\' \
THE
ELEMENTS OF SOCIOLOGY
FOR COLLEGES AND SCHOOLS
^S WE LL AS T^£ NAL
9o
■^
BY ^ N^TITUTION^^
PROFESSOR OF SOCIOLOGY IN COLUMBIA UNIVERSltY, NEW YORK<'«^
AUTHOR OF " THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY " ^t***
FRANKLIN HENRY GIDDINGS, M.A., Ph.D
RK'
Vdost .
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON : MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1902
All rights -reserved
r
b
.a^
Copyright, 1898,
By the MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped September, 1898. Reprinted March,
1899 ; August, 1900 ; April, 1901 ; August, 1902.
• •• •
• • • •
• • • •
• i i
Norinooti IPrrss
J. 8. Cuihing & Co. Brrwick ft Smith
Norwood Mms. U.S.A.
I
1.
PREFACE
The present volume is what its title implies, an ele-
mentary text-book of Sociology. It has been written in
response to a persistent and growing demand for an
untechnical but scientific and reasonably complete state-
ment of sociological theory, for the use of college and
school classes.
No other subject calls for such serious attention from
teachers and students of educational philosophy at the
present time as that of the best preparation for an inte l-
l igent and responsible citizenship . Marvellous as the|
development of the United States has been^ during the
century that is now closing, greater destinies are yet to be
realized. ^ Our task in furthering the civilization of the
world is to be a large and responsible one; no other
nation can assume it for us or perform it if we fail.xl
Delicate as our international relations have been during
our attempt to establish a secure republic in a world of
monarchies, they are to be more delicate and more diffi-
cult in the near future when the European powers attempt
to rectify their colonial boundaries. Complicated as our
financial problems have already been, they will hereafter
call for greater wisdom than has been bestowed upon
them hitherto. Difficult as has been the attempt to
i
vi Preface
organize efficient, economical, and honest municipal
government for cities numbering millions of inhabitants,
the difficulties will continue to increase as population
grows and wealth accumulates. Neither good luck nor
any mere intuition of common sense will enable us to
f^aintain the reality of republican ireedom unless we have
other resources to draw upon. Besides common sense
and energy, we must have knowledge, training, and an
unselfish devotion to the cause of human progress.
It is certain, however, that schools and colleges cannot
furnish detailed courses in all branches of economic, legal,
and political science. The field is too vast and the years
of study are too brief. To a majority of teachers the
alternative seems to be to give either a thorough course in
some one subject — Political Economy, for example — or a
superficial course in many subjects, including "Civics" (or
Elementary Constitutional Law), International Law, and
Political Ethics.
•/ In the judgment of the present writer, it would be wise
to devote a large part of the time available for such dis-
ciplines to a careful study of the nature and laws of
human_society. This study would familiarize the pupil
with the principal forms of social organization ; with the
t houghts, the sympathies^ the purposes, and the vi r tues
that make society possible ; with the benefits that society
confers ; and with the conduct that worthy membership of
society requires. These are the facts and principles that
underlie all details of law and politics, all sound political
economy, and all public morality. Well instructed in these
matters, the student is fitted to continue his study of
Preface vii
society and public policy throughout life. Without this
foundation, no acquaintance with legal or historical detail
can give him a comprehensive grasp of s ocial relation s.
That this opinion is shared by many teachers the author
has abundant evidence; and because of it the present text-
book has been written. Sociology, as here set forth, ^^\
nothing more or less than an_ elementary description of \
socjet}r^j n^cl^r_aiLd simple scientific term s. It will notj
be found more difficult as a class subject than Algebra,
Chemistry, or Elementary Psychology.
This volume is not an abridgment of the author's
'* Principles of Sociology," but is a new book. Many
paragraphs, however, and here and there entire pages,
have been adapted from the larger work.
New York, August, 1898.
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2008 with funding from
IVIicrosoft Corporation
http://www.archive.org/details/elementsofsociolOOgiddrich
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PACK
Fopulation and Society i
CHAPTER II
Where Aggregations of People are Formed . • . • '3
CHAPTER III
How Aggregations of People are Formed . • . • • 22
CHAPTER IV
The Composition and the Unity of a Social Population . . 29
CHAPTER V
The Practical Activities of Socii .....•• 34
CHAPTER VI
Socialization 53
CHAPTER VII
Cooperation 76
CHAPTER VIII
Social Pleasure 88
CHAPTER IX
The Social Nature 95
ix
X Table of Contents
CHAPTER X
rAGB
The Classes of Socii 103
CHAPTER XI
The Preeminent Social Class . . . . , , .113
CHAPTER XII
The Social Mind : Modes of Like-mindedness . • • .119
CHAPTER XIII
Sympathetic Like-mindedness and Impulsive Social Action . 129
CHAPTER XIV
Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity . • .141
CHAPTER XV
Rational Like-mindedness : Public Opinion and Social Values . 155
CHAPTER XVI
Social Organization , • . .172
CHAPTER XVII
Component Societies 179
CHAPTER XVIII
Constituent Societies 193
CHAPTER XIX
The Character and Efficiency of Organization . • • .216
CHAPTER XX
The Early History of Society . . * . . • .231
Table of Contents xi
CHAPTER XXI t-
PAGE
Tribal Society 254
CHAPTER XXH
Civilization , . 272
CHAPTER XXHI
Progress 290
CHAPTER XXIV
Democracy 302
CHAPTER XXV
The Theory of Society . 330
THE ELEMENTS OF SOCIOLOGY
3jOic
CHAPTER I
Population and Society
The Groupings of Like Things. — If we wish to under-
stand the world in which we live, we must cultivate the
habit of noticing what things are like_o.n_e_another.
It is true that we must also notice what things are
unlike one another. If we were unaware of differences,
we should not know. If our eyes were not sensitive to
differences of brightness and of colour, if our ears were
deaf to gradations of sound, and if the nerves of the skin
detected no inequalities of pressure, the external world
would remain, for our minds, a blank. Discrimination,
then, is the beginning of knowledge. Nevertheless, it is
only a beginning.
If we knew nothing but the differences of things, we
should soon reach the limit of the detail that our minds
could hold. Endless progress in knowledge is possible^
only because we observe resemblances as well as differ-^
ences. As rapidly as we discover that things are alike,
we put them together in our thought as a group, or class,
or kind. This enables us to think about them collectively
by a single effort of attentk)?!,^ instead of, separately by
B "I
2 The Elements of Sociology
innumerable efforts. We owe all science to this possibility
of economizing our mental energies, by grouping things
lin our thoughts into classes or kinds.
Comparatively few persons make their mental groupings
I in a strictly methodical way. To observe systematically
I and classify with precision — that is, to group like things
j ' together with accuracy — is to be scientific.
. Classification, then, is the foundation of all scientific
knowledge; and classification consists simply in putting
together in our thought those things that are truly and
] essentially alike.
When we have formed the habit of scientific observa-
tion, we presently discover that, in the world of external
things, objects which are so much alike that we group
them in our thought are usually grouped together also
j in space.
If we follow the windings of a stream through the
meadows, and notice the Vc^.ious weeds and wild flowers
that grow on its banks, the insects that wing over its
stagnant pools, and the birds that nest in the thickets
along its borders, we quickly learn that it is unusual to.
find only one object of the same kind in a given place.
We are much more likely to come upon great masses of
cowslips or violets, swarms of gnats, bands of butterflies,
two or three dragon-flies darting about together, and pairs,
or even flocks, of the same species of birds, than to en-
counter individual specimens.
In like manner, if we extend our observations over wide
regions in the same country, and then over the entire
surface of the globe, we find that particular rock forma-
tions, soils, and mineral deposits are found together in
certain areas,' and not' .^sicattered in a haphazard way
Population and Society .3
throughout the continents ; and that species of plants and
animals have their well-known habitats or haunts, or, as
the naturalists say, their areas of characterization.
The same is true of the varieties of Aiankind. The
white, yellow, red, and black races are not indiscriminately
mingled over the face of the earth ; but each has its own
fairly well-defined division. The natural home of the
white races is Europe, northern Africa, and western Asia ;
and from Europe they have spread to America, southern
^ Asia, and Australia. The natural home of the yellow
r races is northern and eastern Asia. The natural home of
the red races is America. The natural home of the black
races is Africa, southern Asia, and the islands of the
Pacific Ocean. Even of the national varieties of the white
races this is true. The Semitic groups dwell together east
of the Mediterranean, the Slavic in the east and north of
Europe, the Scandinavian in northwestern Europe.
Population. — Any group of \uman beings of the same
kind or description — that is, a group composed of persons
who, in a number of important respects, resemble one
another, and dwell together in a geographical area that
I can be fairly well-defined — may be called a population.
Ir The most interesting pecuHarity of populations is one
that is to form the subject of our present study. The
individuals that compose a population are endowed with
intelligence, and therefore have the habit of noticing re-
semblances and differences, of which we have just been
speaking. Among the resemblances and differences that
they observe are those which they discover among them-
selves — and it is in these that they become chiefly inter-
ested. They become keen in noticing likenesses and
unlikenesses of colour, race, and nationality, resemblances
4 The Elements of Sociology
and differences of character and conduct, of tastes and
habits. The individuals composing a population, like most
other objects that are found in groups, are, to a great
extent, alike; but unlike other objects, they also know thai
\ they are alike.
"^ Besides knowing that they are alike, the individuals
that make up a population usually find enjoyment in their
, resemblances, and are likely to quarrel and make them-
selves w^retched over their differences. The white man, as
a general thing, is glad that the men about him also are .
white men ; and white men often entertain feelings not ^
altogether agreeable towards groups of black men with
which they are obliged to have much contact. In like
manner, men who believe or think alike about some ques-
tion or interest that concerns them — for example, a ques-
tion of religion, or of politics, or a question of political
economy, like that of gold or silver money, or of a protec-
tive tariff — find great pleasure in their intellectual sym-
pathy, and habitually quarrel with those who differ from
them.
Finally, men who thus recognize their resemblances and
take pleasure in their agreements find that they can work
s/ together for common ends. It is possible for them to
have similar purposes in life, to agree upon the best means
of achieving them, to understand one another, and there-
fore to cooperate sympathetically and with success.
Of all the resemblances which the individuals of a pop-
ulation thus discover among themselves, and turn to good
account, the most important are those mental and moral
resemblances which thus make cooperation possible. Dif-
ferences of race or of colour, of speech even, may be over-
looked if there are agreements of thought and feeling.
Population and Society 5
But without these, harmony, happiness, and successful
cooperation are not possible.
Society. — The facts that we have here been describing
are called social facts or facts of society. '
The word "society" is derived from the Latin word
sociics, meaning a companion or associate. As soon as any
person associates with another, or has a companion or
friend, he is already aware of important resemblances be-
tween that companion and himself. He knows that they
are interested in the same things or like to do the same
things, or that they have similar tastes, beliefs, or sympa-
thies ; or perhaps even that they are alike in all of these
matters. He finds, however, that in some things they
differ ; but that their acquaintance and conversation often
bring them to agreement or sympathy upon subjects which,
at first, divided them. This process of discovering both
differences and similarities, and of coming to agreement
upon various subjects, yields a large part of the charm of
their friendship.
Just this process goes on in every population, not only
between each person and some one other person or com-
panion, but between each and many associates. That is
to say, wherever many individuals dwell or mingle to-
gether in one place, there goes on an active interchange of
ideas and sympathies, a cultivation of acquaintance and of
like-mindedness. Consequently the word " society," which
originally means companionship or association, has been ex-
tended to mean also this process of pleasurable conversation
and cultivation of both acquaintance and like-mindedness^
Society, the n, as a mode of activity of intelligent iadividu-X ^
als, _is the cultiv ation of acquai ntance and like-mindednesS'.'^
This mode of activity, of course, yields a certain result
6 The Elements of Sociology
or product. It makes those who associate more and more
alike in mental aim moral qualities. Its product, there-
fore, is a group of like-minded persons who enjoy and
keep up this mode of activity. Such a group or prodijct
is called a society.
A society, therefore, is any group or number of indi-
viduals who cultivate acquaintance and mental agreement ;
that is to say, like-mindedness. It is a group of socii.
Such activity, however, as has already been intimated,
is found only if there is a good degree of like-mindedness
to begin with. Consequently, we need to enlarge and
slightly modify our definition of a society as follows : —
♦ A society is a number of like-minded individuals —
\A socii — who know and enjoy their like-mindedness, and
j are therefore able to work together for common ends.
Kinds of Societies. — This is a general definition. Socie-
l ties are of different kinds ; and the word " society," there-
fore, has a number of special meanings, all of which are
consistent with the general definition.
Natural Society. — A population, as has already been
said, is a group or number of individuals who, in many im-
portant ways, are alike, arfd who live within the same fairly
well-defined area. It has also been shown that the habit
of cultivating acquaintance and like-mindedness, making
them more nearly perfect, extends throughout the popu-
PTation. An entire population, therefore, is, or tends to
V become, a single social group or society. The^jDrocess is
a natural one, which goes on just the same whether indi-
viduals give much conscious attention to it or not. A
population maintaining social activities may therefore be
Icalled a social population or natural society.
A natural society is a population that is composed of.
Population and Society 7
like-minded individuals who know and enjoy their like-
mindedness, and are therefore able to work together for '
common ends.
The Integral Society, — A natural society which is large '
enough to carry on every known kind of social activity
and cooperation, including such activities as government,
industry, education, religion, science, and art, and which,
independently of any other society, maintains control over
the territory that it occupies, may be called an integral
society. Thus, each of the great modern nations, the I
United States, England, France, Germany, for example,
is an integral society,.
Component Societies. — Within each integral society are I
to be found social groups that, in many respects, but not
in all, are complete and independent. Each of these
groups if left to itself could maintain its existence and
perfect a complete social life. But in fact it is subordi-
nate in certain matters to the larger society which includes
it. Such social groups are the several commonwealths or
states of the American Union, and the originally indepen-
dent kingdoms of the now United Kingdom of Great
Britain and Ireland. Such also are counties, townships, ^
cities, and villages ; and such, finally, is the smallest social
group that could, if left to itself, grow into an entire pop-
ulation or integral society, namely, the family.
Social groups that could exist as complete and indepen-
dent societies, but which in fact are only component parts
of integral societies to which they are, in certain respects,
subordinate, may be called component societies. |
Constitnent Societies. — Within each integral society,
and within most of the component societies, are formed
social groups of another kind. Their origin is always
8 The Elements of Sociology
f^rtificial. A certain number of individuals come together
and, as they say, form or organize a society for achieving
' some purpose which they have in mind. Such a society,
for example, is a business corporation ; such is a political
^ party, a church, a scientific association, or a club. Socie-
ties of this kind carry on the work of the community by
i/a division of labour. They are not independent of one
'^another. None of them could exist unless others also
existed. Together they make up or constitute the com-
plete social organization of the integral society. They
may, therefore, be called constituent societies.
Sociology. — In modern times every class of objects in
the natural world, and every kind of human activity, has
been made the subject of scientific study. Society and
social activities were among the latest facts to be studied
in a scientific spirit and by scientific methods. This was
because a scientific study of society was possible only after
a great deal of knowledge about other things had been
accumulated. Social relations are more complicated than
relations of any other kind.
y r I'he scientific study of society is called Sociology.
y The object of all scientific study is to arrive at a com-
I plete description of the thing studied. C The word "descrip-
tion " is used in various ways, however, and we must be
careful to distinguish scientific description from a descrip-
tion that is merely pictorial or dramatic. A scientific
description does not stop when the different parts of an
object have been successfully presented to the mental
vision so that we see them in imagination as we might see
a building or a city. In scientific description, we go on
to show how an object behaves or acts, and to show
further how different acts or events are related to one
Population and Society 9
another in a complete system. We show also the propor-
tions, numbers, or other quantitative facts that may be
discovered in the relations which objects and events bear
to one another. Scientific description thds results in the~l
discovery of what are called causes and laws, which are
simply certain uniformities of order, sequence, proportion,
and so on, among the facts that have been described.
Using the word " description" in this sense, we may say
that Sociology is the scientific description of society^ I
The Unit of Investigation. — The scientific description
of any object or group of facts must start from that
imperfect discrimination which common knowledge has
already made of the object itself from all other things.
Thus the sciences of Chemistry, Astronomy, Geology,
Botany, and Zoology start from the familiar distinctions
between one and another of the changing forms of matter,
between the heavenly bodies and the earth, between living
and non-living objects, and between plants and animals.
But just because the scientific mind is dissatisfied with
off-hand knowledge and abhors vagueness, it always be-
gins its systematic classifying of things by trying to make
its preliminary observations as exact as possible. This is '
done by stripping away from the subject of investigation
all irrelevant, accidental, and occasional facts, and looking
for what is simple, elementary, and persistent. The sim-
plest form of the subject-matter of a science is called the
Unit of Investigation.
The chemists have long known that their science is con-
cerned with the elementary forms of matter; namely,
oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, aluminium, chlorine,.,
sodium, and some sixty more, — their number, qualities,
atomic weights, and combinations with one another. The
lO The Elements of Sociology
element, then, is the unit of investigation in Chemistry.
The astronomers have long known that the specific object
of their investigation is not the heavens in general, but
the particular planet or star, — its motion, shape, size, dis-
tance, composition, and history. The geologists have
learned that their subject-matter is rock, — its composition,
density, texture, shape, fracture, cleavage, position, strati-
fication, and history. The biologists, both botanists and
zoologists, have found their unit of investigation in the
organic cell; they observe its structure, development, and
combinations. The psychologists have two units of in-
vestigation, because they study both consciousness and
the activity of a particular form of matter ; namely, that
which is found in nerve and brain. The unit of investiga-
tion in the study of consciousness is sensation, which is
the simplest of all mental facts. The unit of investigation
in the study of nerve and brain activity is the nerve cell
and its reaction to irritation or stimulus.
What, now, is the unit of investigation in Sociology }
The answer has already been partly disclosed. In its
^' j! simplest form, society exists whenever an individual has a
/ ' companion or associate. The socius, then, is the unit_of
any social group or society ; and his conduct is the unit of
social activity. Every human being is at once an animal,
ia^conscious individual mind, and a socius. As an animal
he is studied by the anatomist and physiologist ; as a con-
scious mind he is studied by the psychologist ; as a socius,
loving and seeking acquaintance, forming friendships and
alliances with other socii like himself, imitating them and
setting examples for them, teaching them and learning
from them, and engaging with them in many forms of
common activity, — he is studied by the sociologist.
Popiilatio?i and Society II
The imit_of investigation, then, in Sociology is the socius
— that is to say, the individual who is not only an animal
and a conscious mind, but also a companion, a learner, a
teacher, and co-worker. '
Sociology studies the nature of the socius, his habits u
and his activities. Whether there are different kinds or
classes of socii, how socii influence one another, how they
combine and separate, what groups they form, — all these
questions also are questions of Sociology.
The Problems of Sociology. — When a science has descrip- vx
tively marked out its subject-matter and found its unit of
investigation, it has accomplished the first of four tasks
which every complete science must undertake.
The second task of science is carefully to examine the '
activities or processes that may be observed in the object,
or group of things, or group of interests, under investi-
gation. Thus the chemist, when he has discovered the_j
elementary forms of matter, observes how each element
behaves in all possible combinations with other elements.
The biologist tries to discover all possible modes of cell
formation and cell development.
The third task of science is to show what new products r
or combinations of facts or things are brought into exist-
ence as a result of the activities or processes. Thus the
chemist tries to discover what complex products can be
made by combining the chemical elements in all possible
ways. The biologist observes all the forms of tissue, and
the different kinds of organisms that are produced by the
different combinations of living cells.
The fourth task of science is to discover and formulate "'
the exact relations or laws which prevail amo ng ac tivities
and in the evolution of their products.
12 The Elements of Sociology
In a rough general way, the first scientific task of Soci-
ology has been performed in this chapter. We have shown
what group of facts Sociology studies, and determined the
unit of investigation. We have now to go on and examine
more carefully the processes or activities of society, the
products which result from them, and, finally, the laws
which explain both activities and products.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Spencer's " Study of Sociology."
CHAPTER II
Where Aggregations of People are Formed
Inhabitable Areas. — Natural societies are found only
where the physical features of land and climate are favour-
able to the grouping of living beings in relatively large
aggregations. There can be no social activity without
communication and acquaintance; and these are impossi-
ble if individuals are so widely separated in space that
they must pass most of their time in isolation.
Rather more than half of the land surface of the earth
is unfavourable to any massing of population. Mountain
ranges, deserts, tropical jungles, and the intensely cold
regions of the Arctic zones together make up this forbid-
ding part of the world. Natural societies flourish where
soil is productive and elevation is not too great an obsta-
cle to industry and communication, and where climate is
endurable.
North America. — So far as climate is concerned, nearly
every part of North America could be inhabited by man.
But there are large areas here where subsistence could not
easily be obtained.
The Graiitless North. — The northern limit of grain
production i^|a Hne that extends from southeastern Labra-
dor to near the head of Lake Superior, thence to the
southern end of Lake Athabasca, and thence to the mouth
of the Fraser River. North of this line, the winter cold,
13
14 The Elements of Sociology
though severe and prolonged, is not unendurable. The
summer is warm ; but it is too short for the purposes of a
varied agriculture. The primeval forests of this region
are still the home of moose, musk oxen, and reindeer, and
of many fur-bearing animals. Its rivers and lakes are well
stocked with fish. Hunting tribes of Indians can live
here ; but settlements of civilized white men can hardly be
expected to flourish. So well informed a man as Professor
Shaler predicts that this region will *' remain a wilderness,
unsought as the dwelling-place of civilized man."
. The Western Desert. — Another part of North America
at present unfavourable to population is the so-called great
Western Desert. It is an arid region which lies westward
from the one hundredth meridian to the coast ranges of
the Pacific, and stretches from the Canadian border, where
it is nearly a thousand miles wide, into Mexico, where it is
three or four hundred miles wide. It would be unsafe to
predict that this region will never be occupied by a dense
population, since we know from the success of the Mor-
mon settlements in Utah, that, by means of irrigation, the
arid lands may be made habitable. Indeed, it is possible
that they may yet become the seat of great and prosper-
ous communities. As yet, however, the population of this
fourth great desert of the world is less than two inhabi-
tants to the square mile.
The Region of Fertility. — In wonderful contrast is the
region east of the one hundredth meridian. Here the
rainfall is greater than is necessary for agriculture ; and
the fertility is of a degree almost unknown elsewhere out-
side of the tropics. In no other land of equal extent does
the soil bring forth so great a variety of products fit for
human use. Nowhere else are drought and flood so nar-
WJiere Aggregations of People are Formed 15
rowly localized by topography and by the direction of
atmospheric currents, as to make a general failure of the
harvests so nearly impossible. The population of this
region in 1790 was 3,929,214; in 1890, 59r594>637.
Local Areas. — Within this region, however, is a great
variety of conditions and resources to which the local dis-
tribution of population conforms.
1. The Coast Swamps. — One subdivision is known as
the Coast Swamps. These are found along the South
Atlantic and Gulf coasts, from southeastern Virginia to
the mouth of the Rio Grande in Texas. Their greatest
breadth, occasionally as much as one hundred miles, is in
North Carolina and Louisiana. While nearly level, these
swamps have slope enough for drainage ; and in the Caro-
linas large areas of them are utilized for rice plantations.
In colonial days one of their important products was
indigo. In 1890 the Coast Swamps had a population of
21.5 to the square mile. It was composed mainly of
negroes, who alone can successfully withstand the malarial
climate.
2. The Atlantic Plain. — Another subdivision of the
densely populated region east of the one hundredth
meridian is called the Atlantic Plain. It is a strip of
land lying beyond the Coast Swamps, and extending to a
somewhat abrupt rise of the surface which is known as the
fall line, because from New York down to the Gulf and as
far as the Mississippi River, all the eastward-flowing riv-
ers at this line drop by falls or rapids from a higher level
extending westward. The Atlantic Plain is nearly level,
seldom reaching an elevation of 200 feet above the sea;
and, except where cleared by man, is covered by a growth
of pine forests. Long since, however, most of it was
1 6 The Elements of Sociology
cleared and reduced to cultivation ; and it is now the seat
of the chief commercial and manufacturing towns of the
East. Its surface is covered with a network of great rail-
road and telegraph lines; and wide areas of the rural
spaces between cities and towns are devoted to market
gardens under high cultivation. The population of the
Atlantic Plain in 1890 was 74.4 to the square mile, and
consisted chiefly of whites.
3. The Piedmont Region. — Next in density to the Atlan-
tic Plain is the so-called Piedmont Region, which comprises
a strip of country extending from Maine to Alabama, and
lying between the fall line on the east and the Blue Ridge
Mountains on the west. It is a region of beautiful scenery
and of varied products. Its sweet grasses make it the
choicest dairy region of America. It yields every kind of
fruit native to temperate regions. It is rich also in min-
eral wealth ; and, in a good degree, its water-power is util-
ized in manufacturing. Its population in 1890 was 69.5 to
the square mile.
4. Mountain Regio7ts. — The population of the New Eng-
land Hills — a term applied to the northern part of New
England, including the upper counties of Maine, the
White Mountains of New Hampshire, the Green Moun-
tains of Vermont, and the- Adirondacks of New York, a
broken mountainous country ranging in elevation from
1000 to 6000 feet, and covered with forests — was 40.7 to
the square mile. Agriculture in this region is difficult,
and the returns are meagre ; but timber lands and quar-
ries are sources of wealth. A population of 49.8 to the
square mile was found in the Appalachian Mountain re-
gion, which includes the Blue Ridge and the Appalachian
valley north and west of it, and extends from New Jersey
Where Aggregations of People are Formed ij
to Alabama and Georgia. The maximum elevation of this
region, 6700 feet, is found in North Carolina. The Appa-
lachian valley is drained in New Jersey and Pennsylvania
by the Delaware and Susquehanna rivers, in Virginia by
the Potomac, the James, and Kanawha rivers, and in
Tennessee by the Tennessee River. Its occupations and
sources of wealth are much like those of the New Eng-
land Hills.
5. The Great Plateau. — From the northwestern border
of the Appalachian valley, rises an escarpment which ex-
tends almost continuously from northeastern Pennsylvania
through Maryland, Virginia, and Tennessee into Alabama.
From the summit of this escarpment stretches a plateau
with a general slope to the northwest. It is everywhere
deeply scored by streams flowing in a northwesterly direc-
tion, which have cut the plateau into irregular ridges and
gorges, and made it one of the most intricate mountain re-
gions of the globe. It is densely covered with forests. Its
population in 1890 was 59.3 to the square mile.
6. Timber and Lake Regions. — Southern Ohio, and In-
diana, the western half of Kentucky and Tennessee, the
northeastern part of Mississippi, and parts of adjoining
states are together known as the Interior Timbered Re-
gion. Portions of it have been cleared and converted into
prosperous farming areas. Other portions yield coal and
other mineral products. Its population in 1890 was 44.3
to the square mile. A narrow strip of country bordering
the Great Lakes, and including parts of New York, Penn-
sylvania, Ohio, and most of Michigan, Wisconsin, and
northern Minnesota, is known as the Lake Region, be-
cause it has the characteristics of a coast climate. The
atmosphere is moist, the winters abnormally warm, and
1 8 The Elements of Sociology
the summers abnormally cool. This region is especially
well adapted to grape-growing. Its population in 1890
was 25.1 to the square mile. In northwestern Arkansas,
southwestern Missouri, and the eastern part of the Indian
Territory, lies the Ozark Mountain Region, consisting in
Arkansas of a succession of narrow ranges of 2CXX) to
3000 feet in height, and separated by broad valleys, and
farther to the west of an area of confused hills and valleys
without system. Its population in 1890 was 22.8 to the
square mile.
7. The Southern Alhcvial Regiott. — Southward from
Cairo, where the Ohio joins the Mississippi River, to the
Coast Swamps of Louisiana stretches the Alluvial Region
of the Mississippi. It includes parts of the states of Mis-
souri, Arkansas, Mississippi, Louisiana, and smaller parts
of Kentucky and Tennessee. Most of the land of this re-
gion is marshy and lies below the level of the water in the
rivers. The dry land along the banks of the streams has
been formed by overflows. Much of this region is cov-
ered by forests. The soil is of the highest fertility ; but
the climate is unfavourable to the white race. The popula-
tion in 1890 was 23.6 to the square mile, and consisted
chiefly of negroes.
8. The Prairie Region. — Finally, west of the Mississippi
River, and east of the one hundredth meridian, lies the
granary of the country, known as the Prairie Region. It
comprises a small portion of western Indiana, most of
IlHnois and Iowa, southern Wisconsin and Minnesota,
northern Missouri, and eastern North Dakota, South Da-
kota, Kansas, and Nebraska, and extends into the Indian
Territory and Texas. Its surface is level or undulating,
and in its natural state, before settlement by white men,
Where Aggregations of People are Formed 19
it was covered with luxuriant grasses. Forests do not
thrive here without protection ; but they are increasing
under cultivation. The population of this region in 1890
was 28.3 to the square mile. t.
Pacific Regions. — West of the Rocky Mountains only
two regions have as yet a population approaching or ex-
ceeding ten inhabitants to the square mile. The Pacific
valley, lying west of the Cascade and Sierra Nevada
ranges, and extending from Puget Sound to southern
California, has a population of 9.1 to the square mile.
The lesser valleys of the coast ranges themselves are of
great fertility, and have a population of 14.3 to the square
mile.
Altitude and Temperature ^ as well as resources, have their
effect upon the distribution of population. The average
altitude in the United States is about 2500 feet above sea-
level. More than three-fourths of the population, how-
ever, live below the level of 1000 feet above the sea, and
more than nine-tenths below that of 1500 feet. Three-
fourths live between the isotherms of forty-five and sixty
degrees.
Europe and Asia. — If we look beyond the borders of
the United States, we find still more strikingly exemplified
the truth that population is dense where natural resources
are great and climate is favourable. In Europe the areas
of dense population are the fertile valleys, of the Po
in Italy, of the Rhine in Germany, of the Seine in
France, and of the Thames in England. In Asia the
millions of India and of China are concentrated in the
valleys of the Ganges, the Indus, and the Yellow
rivers.
Agricultural fertility, however, is not always the deter-
20 The Elements of Sociology
mining cause of aggregation. Mineral resources, oppor-
tunities for manufacturing and trade, may support vast
populations in regions which would hardly produce suffi-
cient food supplies from their own soil. Such, for ex-
ample, is Belgium with its population of nearly 550 per
square mile. In the natural course of things, however,
regions which are capable of exporting food become, in
time, centres of dense population if commerce and manu-
' factures are locally developed on the basis of the agricult-
ural resources. Thus, at the present time, the countries
that export wheat in great quantities are the United States,
Russia, India, Australia, and the Argentine Republic ;
and these are the countries which are, on the whole, most
rapidly increasing in population.
Primary and Secondary Sources of Subsistence. — The mass-
ing of population at any given point is itself a condition
favourable to further aggregation, because it affords pro-
tection to individuals, and makes possible the development
of those forms of cooperation which most rapidly increase
\ wealth. Civilized populations in particular are, to a great
extent, distributed with reference to these artificial condi-
tions. The strictly primitive means of subsistence are
edible fruits, grains, roots, fish, and game in their natural
state. Human beings unacquainted with the arts of agri-
culture and manufacture could live only where these
strictly natural food supplies could be obtained. Foods
preserved and stored up are a secondary means of subsist-
ence which enable men to engage in other than extractive
industries. The tendency everywhere observed is to ac-
cumulate the secondary means of subsistence in great
cities, where the secondary occupations of commerce
and manufacture can be carried on to advantage. For
WJiere Aggregations of People are Formed 21
this reason cities are becoming powerful centres of at-
traction.
PARALLEL STUDY
»■
In the volumes of the "American Commonwealths" Series, study the
history of the settlement and development, by a white population, of
the local areas described in this chapter.
CHAPTER III
How Aggregations of People are Formed
Two Ways of Increase. — We have seen where aggrega-
tions of people are formed. Let us now notice how they
are formed.
Everyday observation shows us that there are two ways
in which populations increase. One is by the birth of new
individuals, the other is by immigration from populations
dwelling in other parts of the world. The first way, if birth
rates exceed death" rates, increases the total population of
the world. The second method merely redistributes it,
increasing some populations at the expense of others.
Genetic Aggregation. — At the present time, different
populations are increasing by births in excess of deaths in
very unequal degrees. According to the census of 1890,
the United States has an annual birth rate for the whole
population of 26.68 per thousand. The rate for whites
alone is 26.35 ; for the coloured it is 29.07. The death rate
is given as 19.64 per thousand for the whole population ;
as 17.00 per thousand for native-born whites of native
parents ; as 24.42 per thousand for native-born whites of
foreign parents ; as 19.85 per thousand for foreign-born
whites ; and as 19.57 per thousand for the coloured. These
figures, which probably understate the birth rate and are
not altogether accurate for the death rate, show a rapid
net increase of population by birth. The United Kingdom
22
How Aggregations of People are Formed 23
has a birth rate of 29.9 per thousand, and a death rate of
19. 1, leaving a large annual increase. Germany has a
birth rate of 36.7 and a death rate of 24.6. Austria has
a birth rate of 36.2 and a death rate of 2^.8. Italy has a
birth rate of 36.6 and a death rate of 25.3. Thus it ap-
pears that all these countries are rapidly increasing in
population by births in excess of deaths.
The most remarkable extremes are those of Norway
and France. Norway has a birth rate of 30.7 and a death
rate of only 16.4; France has a birth rate of only 22.1 and
a death rate, in 1892, of 22.6, showing in that year an
actual slight decrease of population.
A population re produc ed by its birth rate irrespective of
immigration may be called a genetic aggregation. More
strictly defined, a gene tic aggregation is a group of kin-
d red individuals that have lived together in one locality
fr om their birth .
The smallest genetic aggregation is merely a natural
family composed of parents and their children of the first
generation. A larger genetic group is an aggregation of
two or three generations of descendants of a single pair.
On a scale yet larger and more complex, the genetic group
is an aggregation of families that may have been related
or not at some former time, but that now are undoubtedly
of one blood through marrying in and in.
In taking the form of genetic aggregations, human
populations reproduce the chief mode of aggregation
among lower forms of animal life, a patient observation of
which richly rewards the student of Sociology. The great
colonies of social insects — ants, bees, and wasps — are
genetic aggregations of a simple sort. Unfortunately, it is
impossible to know how far the schools of fish, the flocks
24 The Elements of Sociology
of birds, the herds or bands of gregarious mammals, are
merely genetic aggregations. It is certain that, to some
extent, they are of mixed origin.
In many respects, the uncivilized tribal societies of mafi-
kind are the most nearly perfect of all examples of genetic
aggregation. Their whole scheme of social organization,
presently to be explained, is based on kinship.
In civilization each nation, and within the nation each
town and hamlet, is, in a great degree, a genetic aggrega-
tion. The population of England so far as it is of English
blood, the population of Ireland so far as it is of Irish
blood, the population of Hungary so far as it is of
Magyar blood, are in a broad sense of the term genetic
aggregations.
No large community, however, is a pure genetic aggre-
gation. To be and to maintain itself as such, it would be
necessary that no individuals should come into the group
from groups dwelling elsewhere, and that, therefore,
all marriages should be contracted between individuals
already belonging to the community. In the United States
and in other countries there are small local communities
which are nearly, though never quite, pure genetic aggre-
gations. Such, for example, are the Acadian settlements
of Louisiana, many of the Pennsylvania Dutch commu-
nities, many of the smaller Quaker hamlets of the same
state, and many of the Canadian- French hamlets of the
province of Quebec.
When individuals continue to live where they were born
and for generations to intermarry, it is usually because the
region is one of abundant resources, or because of mental
inertia. The effective desire to seek fortune elsewhere is
lacking. Sometimes, however, close intermarriage is a
How Aggregations of People are Formed 25
consequence of some peculiarity of religious or political
belief.
Congregation. — The growth of a population by immi-
gration is a process of congregation ; and dt may be called
bylHat name to distinguish it from genetic aggregation.
It is a gathering in one place or area of individuals from
many other places, or even from remote parts of the
world, who are attracted by the resources or other oppor-
tunities of a new home.
Even more unequal than the increase of different popu-
lations by births in excess of deaths, is their increase by
immigration. The so-called new countries where vast
resources are yet unexhausted, and unlimited opportunities
seem to be offered to the adventurous and enterprising,
most strongly attract population from its older centres.
On the one hand, the United States, Australia, Africa, and
the Argentine Republic are to-day the countries which are
most rapidly gaining population by immigration. On the
other hand, the United Kingdom, with an excess of births
over deaths of 452,000 per annum, loses 32.7 per cent of
it by emigration; Germany, with an excess of 537,000 per
annum, loses 20. i per cent of it in like manner ; Sweden,
with 56,000, loses 50 per cent ; Norway, with 28,000,
loses 55.4 per cent; Switzerland, with 22,000, loses 34.1
per cent; Denmark, with 27,000, loses 22.2 per cent;
France, with 92,000, loses 5.1 per cent.
Congregation is a local no less than a national or
general phenomenon. Wherever new opportunities are
opened, men rush to them from every quarter. In i860
families moved from every Eastern state into the oil fields
of Pennsylvania. In 1877 the town of Leadville, in Col-
orado, sprang up with almost incredible rapidity, to dis-
26 The Elements of Sociology
f
appear a few years later as quickly. In 1889, 50,000
** boomers" poured into Oklahoma in a single day; and
in 1893 the scene was repeated by 90,000 like advent-
urers. The cosmopolitan city of Johannesburg, with
50,000 inhabitants, sprang up in seven years on the deso-
late steppe of the Transvaal, in the heart of the gold-
bearing region of Africa.
\ Emigration, immigration, and congregation, like genetic
aggregation, in populations of civilized men reproduce
I the habits of the lower animals, of savages, and of bar-
( barians — all of whom were wanderers on the earth for
B ages before civilized man appeared.
"" Detachment from the parent group results from an in-
crease of animal energy as commonly and as certainly as
does procreation. Flocks and herds in any given habitat
have a normal size which is a phase of the established
. equilibrium of nature, and which is maintained, as num-
bers increase by birth, by throwing off small bands that
seek new feeding grounds. There they meet and com-
mingle with groups from other birthplaces, attracted like
themselves by the food supplies, the nesting places, or
other advantages of the new habitat. The congregating
of the mammalia is governed in part by the distribution
of such necessaries of their lives as water and salt. Prob-
ably the most remarkable of all congregations, however,
is the enormous aggregation of migrating birds and ani-
mals in high northern latitudes during the short Arctic
summer.
In savagery there is a pressure from all directions
towards the best hunting and fishing grounds, which
brings unacquainted or unrelated bands into contact, and
causes chronic hostility. The frightful struggles between
How Aggregations of People are Formed 27
Algonquin and Iroquois tribes before the European settle-
ment of North America were an incident of their conver-
gence upon the valley of the Mohawk. The valleys of
the Delaware, the Ohio, the upper Mississippi, the Colum-
bia, and the Colorado rivers were repeatedly the centres
of similar converging movements and the scenes of exter-
minating wars.
Among more advanced peoples, congregation has usually
been the initial step in their history, as when Semitic,
Hamitic, and Aryan tribes pushed into Palestine, or as
when Germanic tribes pushed into England.
Primary and Seco7idary Congregation. — For the pur-
poses of sociological study it is necessary to distinguish
between a primary and a secondary congregation. By
the first of these terms we designate a coming together
of individuals or families, that, although strangers and
hitherto widely scattered, are yet remotely related, being'
perhaps of the same nationality, or, at least, of the same
race. By secondary congregation we mean a coming to-
gether of different nationalities or races. It is secondary
because the unlike stocks have themselves been produced
by an earlier or preliminary congregation of elements less
unlike. The mingling of immigrants in the United States
shows us both the primary and the secondary forms of
congregation on a great scale.
Causes of Aggregation. — We are now prepared to say, in
somewhat more scientific terms, how aggregations of peo-
ple are formed. The physical surface of the earth, and
the living creatures that dwell on it, are continually acting
and reacting upon one another. Animal life, including
that of human beings, derives its energy from the food
supply and the atmosphere and sunshine of the land where
28 The Elements of Sociology
it dwells. This energy is expended in three ways. The
first is in the search for, and appropriation of, new food
supplies to maintain the life already in existence. The
', second is in reproduction, the birth of new individuals,'^
and a birth rate in excess of death rate may always be
taken as a rough measure of the surplus vitality of any
species, race, or group. The third way is in wandering
and adventure. It is this latter expenditure of energy that
takes the form of emigration and congregation.
Populations are formed, then, by genetic aggregation
and by congregation. The place where a population
dwells is determined by physical conditions, and espe-
cially by food-producing resources. But the cause of the
formation of the population itself is found in the processes
j of genetic and congregate grouping.
PARALLEL STUDY
In Mayo-Smith's "Statistics and Sociology," study Chapters V, VII,
and XIV.
CHAPTER IV
The Composition and the Unity of a Social Popu-
lation
Demotic Composition. — Because genetic aggregation is
practically never the only way in which a population
grows, a population is always a mixture and composition
of elements more or less unlike. This proposition is
not in contradiction of the statement made in the first
chapter, that a population is composed of individuals in
many respects alike. Likeness and unlikeness are facts
of degree. Moreover, individuals may be alike in some
respects and unlike in others. These facts, of degrees
and kinds of resemblance, will receive attention later on.
Usually the unlikeness of the elements of a popula-
tion extends to differences of nationality, and often to
differences of race. This is true of all modern nations,
and especially true of the people of the United States.
The intermingling of elements bred of different parent
stocks and having, therefore, unlike qualities and habits,
may be called the demotic composition. The word
" demotic " means pertaining to the demos ^ the Greek
word for people. The demotic composition, therefore, >
is the admixture of various elements of nationality and
race in a people or population.
It is the ceaseless emigration of individuals that creates
in modern civil communities a demotic composition on
29
30 The Elements of Sociology
the greatest scale. In the United States, in 1890, there
were 9,249,547 foreign-born inhabitants. Since 1820
1 5,427,657 immigrants, drawn by the life opportunities that
are here offered, have come to this country from Eng-
land, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, Norway, Sweden, Italy,
and other lands. Besides all these diverse elements, the
United States has 7,470,040 negroes and 248,253 Indians.
In the distribution of native and foreign born elements,
no peculiarity of situation, industry, government, or faith
prevents the normal intermingling. Thus, in Utah, pre-
vious to 1880, polygamy was still practised and encour-
aged by the dominant Mormon church; and by most of
the Gentile world, polygamy was abhorred. Nevertheless,
the census of 1880 found that while 69.5 per cent of the
population of Utah was born within the United States,
13.7 per cent had come from England, 5.4 per cent
from Denmark, 2.6 per cent from Sweden, 2.2 per cent
from Scotland, 1.7 per cent from Wales, .9 per cent from
Ireland, .8 per cent from Norway, .7 per cent from
Switzerland, .7 per cent from British North America,
.6 per cent from Germany, and 1.2 per cent from other
countries.
Every local community, as well as every country, shows
this heterogeneity of population; and every great city
shows it conspicuously. In each 1000 inhabitants of
London, 630 are natives of that city, 307 are from other
parts of England and Wales, 21 are from Ireland, 21
are from foreign countries, 13 are from Scotland, 7 are
from the Colonies, and i is from the islands in the
British seas. But no demotic composition, modern or
ancient, can be compared with that of New York City.
Within that part of New York City which is included
The Composition and Unity of a Social Population 31
in New York County, which is substantially though not
precisely the borough of Manhattan, the composition of
the 639,943 foreign-born is as follows : natives of Canada
and Newfoundland, 8398; of South America, 471; of
Cuba and the West Indies, 2202; of Ireland, 190,418;
of England, 35,907; of Scotland, 11,242; of Wales, 965 ;
of Germany, 210,723; of Austria, 27,193; of Holland,
1384; of Belgium, 626; of Switzerland, 4953; of Nor-
way, 1575; of Sweden, 7069; of Denmark, 1495; of
Russia, 48,790; of Hungary, 12,222; of Bohemia, 8099;
of Poland, 6759; of France, 10,535; of Italy, 39,951; of
Spain, ZZy ; of China, 2048 ; of Australia, 342 ; of Euro-
pean countries not specified, 3364; born at sea, 135;
natives of all other countries, 1890. Next after New
York, Chicago, perhaps, contains the most interesting
mixture of nationalities. A map of the region bounded
by Polk, State, Twelfth, and Halstead streets, prepared
by the residents of Hull House, shows eighteen nationali-
ties living, in 1894, within that district, one mile long by
one-third of a mile wide.
Autogeny. — We will now return to the assertion that,
notwithstanding this remarkable unlikeness in the ele-
ments of a population, a population is characterized by
the likeness rather than by the unlikeness of its elements.
Colonies and new cities in the first or second generation
of their existence are occasionally exceptions. All other
populations are perpetuated mainly by their birth rate
rather than by immigration. For the purposes of Sociol-
ogy we may designate this fact by a technical term, and
say that a population is normally autogenous, that is,
self-generating, self-perpetuating.
• Notwithstanding the enormous immigration into the
32 The Elements of Sociology
United States, by far the greater proportion of the
63,000,000 inhabitants who were counted in the eleventh
census were born within our territorial limits. Most of
them had in their veins at least some mixture of the
blood of the colonists and of those Europeans who came
to America before 1821. In like manner, while there is
an increasing mobility of population from state to state,
from country to city, and from town to town, each local
community is perpetuated mainly by its birth rate. New
York City had, in 1890, 875,358 native-born inhabitants
to overbalance her 639,943 foreign-born. The popula-
tion of Greater London was increased during the ten
years 1871-80 by 574,385 births in excess of deaths,
and by 306,635 accessions from without, in excess of
emigration. The same relation of natural increase to
immigration is true of other cities, of smaller towns,
and of all countries, though the proportions vary in-
definitely.
Thus every population, while it has a demotic composi-
>/ tion, and presents many species of unlikeness among its
component individuals, is after all a unity. To a great
extent of one blood, its members are always tending by
intermarriage to become more and more homogeneous in
this respect. At the same time, this tendency is being
counteracted by new accessions of heterogeneous elements
from without. The differences, however, are quantitatively
less than the agreements. Likeness overbalances the un-
likeness. The likeness, as we shall see later on, is the
basis and cause of social cohesion or unity. The unlike-
ness is the cause of variation and progress. Only as both
are present in a social population can there develop a
; society at once stable and progressive.
The Composition and Unity of a Social Population 33
PARALLEL STUDY
Using the " Compendium of the Eleventh Census " of the United States
and outline maps, make shaded or coloured maps shpwing the demotic
composition of the United States as a whole, and in greater detail, that
of the several commonwealths.
CHAPTER V
The Practical Activities of Socii
Simple Activities. — Thus far we have observed popula-
tion in its physical aspect only. We have looked at it as
consisting of a number of living objects found together in
certain places, and have examined the origin and the kinds
of these objects, and the proportions in which different
kinds are combined. We have now to recall the fact that
these living objects are conscious individuals, who think
and feel ; who have appetites, desires, passions ; who form
purposes in life and try to achieve them. It is with these
. mental facts, rather than with the physical ones, that we
\are chiefly concerned in the study of Sociology.
The sociologist, however, does not study the mental
facts presented by a population for the purpose of under-
standing the human mind. That is the business of the
psychologist. The sociologist is interested in the prac-
tical activities that spring from thought and desire. What
men do, how they behave toward one another and with
one another, how they form groups and unite in common
action, — these, as has already been explained in the first
^ chapter, are some of the important questions of Sociology.
'^ The social activities of a population arc not by any
means the whole of the practical activities in which the
population engages. There are many kinds of useful
work which are, or might be, carried on by individuals
34
i
The Practical Activities of Socii 35
without social cooperation. There are also modes of con-
duct that are called moral, and that are studied by the
student of Ethics, some of which do not depend for their
existence upon social conditions. Therefor^', that we may
understand just what the social facts of life are, and how
they are related to facts of other kinds, we must glance at
the whole field of man's practical activity.
We have seen that population is increased from two
sources; namely, birth and immigration. There is no bet-
ter way of discovering what are the important practical
activities of mankind than by observing, first, what things
children become interested in, learn to do, and are taught
to do as they grow to manhood; and, secondly, what things
immigrants become interested in and learn to do as they
become adapted to the ways and conditions of their
adopted country.
App7'eciation. — The first years of a child's life are oc-
cupied chiefly in getting acquainted with people and
things, and establishing preferences — that is to say, likes
and dislikes. The child, however, does not get used to
the world into which he has been born by learning about
people and things in an entirely indiscriminate fashion.
It is true that from the first he has experiences of contact
with objects of many different kinds, living and non-living.
But some experiences are repeated so much more fre-
quently than others that he gets really familiar with cer-
tain groups of things in the external world long before he
learns much about others. The group that he has most
frequent experience of and first learns to know well is
made up of those living beings who are nearest to him and
are usually closely related to him as kindred. His mother
and father, brothers and sisters, and his nurse he knows
36 The Elements of Sociology
better than he knows any other class of objects in the
world. But not only does he know them better ; in an even
greater degree does he care more for them. However
fond he may be of his toys and various articles of house-
hold furniture with which he amuses himself, he is usually
ready to leave them to go to his mother for love and
caresses, or to his brothers and sisters for play.
Next to these kindred beings, he learns to know fairly
well other human beings who, from time to time, come
into the household. Among these he discriminates with
liking and disliking, usually showing strong preferences.
To some strangers he goes readily, showing a fearless
willingness to adopt them into his little circle of friends.
With others he will have nothing whatever to do.
It is not until after these gradations of human acquaint-
ance and preference have been well established that the
child learns with any accuracy of detail the inorganic
world which is so different from his own personality.
Indeed, the great majority of human beings never, in all
their lives, do learn the inorganic world with any such
accuracy of knowledge as they learn their fellow-men.
The great truths of human nature were commonplaces of
popular philosophy for ages before mankind had any true
knowledge of the material constitution of the inorganic
world. For many years of his immature life the child
thinks of inanimate objects as if they were in some degree
personal like himself. He talks to them, gets angry with
them, or approves of them, quite as he would do with one
of his living playmates.
How is it with the immigrant.!* His first experiences inj
I the new land of his choice are curiously like the child'i
» first experiences in the world. Like the child, the immi*
The Practical Activities of Socii 37
grant first learns to know well, and shows a strong pref-
erence for those human beings who are of his own kin-
dred. He associates with the men and women of his own
nationality and speech, who have come t(* the new land
before him, and have not yet forgotten their mother
tongue or the ideas and habits of their fatherland. With
these people the immigrant feels at home ; and for a long
time he is loath to break away from their hospitality and
influence.
Little by little, however, he becomes acquainted with
the men and women of another nationality and speech,
the native inhabitants of the country. He feels that they
are much less like himself in ideas and habits than are
his own countrymen. But he gradually gets used to
them, and finds that he is establishing in his own mind
many likes and dislikes towards these new acquaintances
and their ways.
Last of all, he begins to be familiar with the new coun-
try itself, its resources, products, the details of its geogra-
phy, its railways, buildings, machinery. The chances
are, however, that he never learns this latter group of
facts thoroughly well.
Thus both the child and the immigrant find that their
first business in life is to get used to the world in which y
they themselves are living. This process of getting used is
partly intellectual; it consists partly in acquiring know-
ledge ; but it includes also something more. With the
knowledge is mixed a great deal of preference, of liking and
disliking. With every act of learning some degree of pref-
erential feeling is combined. In a rough way, every
person and everything that is brought into the widen-
ing circle of acquaintance is valued, and is assigned a
38 The Elements of Sociology
certain place in a scale of values. This mental process
in which knowledge, preference, and valuation are com-
bined may be called appreciation. It is not that critical
appreciation which we look for in the artist, the poet,
or the scientific man, and of which we shall have more
to say presently. It is a rough, preliminary, practically
useful appreciation which serves every man as a mental
guide for the purposes of everyday life.
^ ^ The first great practical activity of life, then, is appre-
^^ ciation.
Utilization. — The second interest that appears in the
child's life has to do with the uses that he can make of
things and of persons. *
As rapidly as he learns about persons and things, and
finds himself regarding them with different degrees of
pleasure or approval, he begins to try experiments with
them. He tries to see what he can do with each new
object that comes within his reach. These experiments
are attended with different degrees of success. A great
many things he can play with as he wills. Others resist
his attempts, and cause him the disappointment of thwarted
effort. On the whole, he finds that he can exercise his
, own will more successfully over that group of things
which he learns last of all to appreciate — namely, the
inanimate objects that are least like himself; and that his
efforts to control, adapt, and use are least successful
when applied to those objects which he first learns to
appreciate — namely, the persons of his own kindred who
are most like himself.
The immigrant comes to a new country with habits of
controlling and using things in the world about him
already formed. Nevertheless, among his very early ex-
The Practical Activities of Socii 39
periences in his new home are those of being brought
into contact with new objects and circumstances which
he had previously known only in surmise or imagination.
As rapidly as he learns about these new things, and finds
himself regarding them with different degrees of liking
or disliking, he does exactly as the child does in his out-
look upon the world. He tries many experiments with
the new things that surround him, and the new circum-
stances in which he is placed. New kinds of food are
offered to him and he tries them. New kinds of clothing
appeal to him ; and these also he tries. New amusements,
too, are offered, and new forms of occupation, many of
which he experiments with almost as persistently and
unsystematically as the child does with his toys.
Now all of these experiments by both the child and the
immigrant have one common characteristic : they are
attempts to use the external world, to adapt the things ^
which it contains to one's own purposes, to control and
apply them as one likes.
To this process of trying to control, adapt, and use the
things of the external world, we may give the name utiliza-
tion.
Utilization, then, is the second great practical activity of \\2^
life.
Characterization. — It was said a moment ago that the
child's attempts to make use of things and persons are
sometimes unsuccessful. Many disappointments attend
his early experimenting with the objects that make up his
little world. On a larger scale this is true also of the im-
migrant's first efforts to appropriate and enjoy the new
things and the new objects among which he finds himself
placed in the new home. He encounters many rebuffs ;
\
40 The Elements of Sociology
he fails in many undertakings ; and he is often obliged to
abandon cherished plans and to form new ones better
adapted to the circumstances of his position.
These failures and disappointments, whether they affect
the child or the immigrant, have certain important conse-
quences. They act upon the character of the unsuccess-
ful or disappointed person. If he is morally weak and
has but little will power, he may become discouraged and
continue through life to fail in nearly everything that he
undertakes. But if he is strong, and resolute, and quick-
witted, his experiences have a different effect. Failure
only strengthens his resolution to try again. Ill success
leads him to reflect upon the causes of his failure, and
discover how he can do better another time. Mentally
and morally he changes, as a result of his imperfect at-
tempts to change and adapt the things about him. While
trying to adapt the world to himself, he also begins to
adapt himself to the world. He learns to be persistent,
to control his temper, to face disappointment bravely, and
to be ready at all times to abandon an imperfect plan and
adopt another that promises better results. All these are
changes in his own character.
This kind of activity which consists in so shaping one's
own character as to make it more and more nearly adapted
to the kind of world in which one lives, may be called char-
acterization.
The third great practical activity of life, then, is charac-
^terization.
Socialization. — When the child encounters disappoint-
ment, or finds that he has undertaken tasks too great for
his strength, or too complicated for his wisdom, he turns
for comfort, or help, or guidance, to those persons of his
The Practical Activities of Socii 41
own kindred whom, in the process of appreciation, he has
already learned to love and trust before all others. Al-
though, in the attempts to use and control the objects
about him, he has learned that he cannot do as he wills
with these persons who are his kindred, he now discovers
that they are always ready to help and advise him in his
moments of trouble. Acting on this discovery, he begins
to extend and to cultivate his acquaintance with a new
interest and purpose. His motive is no longer a mere
curiosity to know and an instinct to prefer. It is a desire /^
for sympathy and for help. A little later, when he has
passed from the home life into the larger circle of the
school and schoolmates, he continues to carry on the
selective cultivation of acquaintances and friends. It has
now become a large part of his daily interest to develop
these social relations.
Very similar, indeed, are the experiences of the immi-
grant in the land of his adoption. He too, in days of dis-
appointment, turns for sympathy and help to the little
group of his own countrymen who understand him and
whom he trusts. They can help him in his distress, or
advise him in his perplexity. Gradually he learns that his |
circle of helpful friends can be greatly widened. He is
becoming acquainted with men of a different nationality
from his own ; he is obtaining from them opportunities
for employment; and he discovers that among them he
can make strong and trustworthy friends. Little by little, ;
he widens the circle, both making himself acquainted with
the character, habits, and thought of the people about him,
and endeavouring himself to become sufficiently like them
to be acceptable to them as their fellow-citizen. In the
course of time he has thus extended his social relations
X
42 The Elements of Sociology
until they touch all the activities of business, politics, reli-
gion, and education in his adopted country.
The practical activity which we have now described,
consisting in the systematic development of acquaintance
and of helpful social relations, may be called socialization.
Socialization, then, is the fourth of the practical activi-
ties of life.
Complex Activities. — These four practical activities, of
appreciation, utilization, characterization, and socialization
are the simple modes of all the practical activities known
to a population. The remaining modes now to be de-
scribed are more or less complicated combinations of these
four simple processes. The native-born inhabitants of a
country who have lived to adult years, and the immigrants
who have become in a degree adapted to their new sur-
roundings, together carry on these more complex practical
activities.
Economic Activity. — The most fundamental of these is
the economic. It consists in a systematic attempt to sat-
isfy human wants by the production, exchange, and dis-
tribution of material wealth. Economic activity, it is ^
obvious, is a development of utilization. Utilization is the
first and essential part of the economic process. Economic
activity, however, is more than utilization. It is the result
of combining with utilization the two other practical activi-
ties of characterization and socialization. To carry on
economic activity, men must not only have the instinct to
utilize and the habit of trying all. sorts of experiments in
adapting the external world to man's purposes, but they
must have acquired that discipline of character which en-
ables them to work persistently and with intelligent pur-
pose ; and they must have formed the habit of helping
The Practical Activities of Socii 43
one another in their work in all possible ways. Economic
activity, then, is a moralized and socialized process of utili-
zation. It cannot be understood by any one who ignores
either the moral or the social factors. %■
Legal Activity. — Next to economic activity in point of "%)
time, and of essential importance, is legal activity, or the
development and application of rules of law. A rule of
law is one of those principles of right action which ex-
perience in the task of developing human character has
discovered and reduced to the forms of intelligent expres-
sion ; which has been accepted as a sound principle by a
population; and which has been put into the form of a
command, which the population will compel all men to
obey. In a sense, then, law is an expression of the rules
or principles of characterization — that is, of moral con-
duct, as the people composing any given population un-
derstand and are prepared to enforce them. But legal
activity, like economic activity, is a complex process. It
is not characterization simply. It is characterization with
the cooperation of utilization and of socialization. In the
development and application of the rules of law, a popu-
lation keeps in mind the necessity of paying attention to
utility and to material well-being. A great many of the
rules of law have reference to the control of individuals
over material things. This control, when it is permitted
or authorized by the entire population, is called the right
of property. Cooperating with characterization and utili-
zation also is the process of socialization. The rules of
law are not merely the rules of right action as they appear
to any particular individual. They are the rules which
appeal to men generally, and which men generally can
agree to abide by. Legal activity is thus a complex form of
44 The Elements of Sociology
practical endeavour, constituted by the blending of utilization
and of socialization with the moral process of characterization.
Political Activity. — A third complex mode of practical
activity in all large populations is the political. Its basis
is socialization. It is a development on a large scale of
the effort to form a sympathetic, helpful group; to in-
clude among the objects of cooperation a defence against
enemies and an organization of means to preserve order
within the population; and to enforce the rules of right
conduct. It will be seen that utilization and characteriza-
tion are both combined with socialization in creating po-
litical activity. But more than this -^ so very complicated
is political conduct — the complex economic and legal
processes also are combined with socialization in creating
political activity. The industrial interests, the property
rights, and other legal privileges of men are all important
factors of political development.
Political activity, then, is that form of the practical ac-
tivity of a population which results from the combination
of utilization, of characterization, of economic, and of legal
activity with socialization.
Ctiltiiral Activity. — There is a fourth mode of compli-
cated activity of populations, yet to be mentioned. As a
result of all the activities thus far described, the individ-
uals composing a population are continually acquiring a
new interest in the world itself, in themselves as conscious
human beings, and in their own well-being and destiny.
They begin to ask themselves what they work, and organ-
ize, and strive for; and the answer that they make to
themselves is that they work, and strive, and organize, in
order to perfect their own lives, to improve their minds
and characters, and to enjoy the happiness that comes of
The Practical Activities of Socii 45
bodily exercise, intellectual inquiry, the friendship of com-
panions, and the love of kindred. This answer means
that, after all, appreciation, which is the first practical
activity, is also the object of all other endeavours.
Consequently men begin systematically to review, criti-
cise, and develop their appreciations ; namely, their
knowledge, their preferences, their affections. This
final form of the process of appreciation, which appears
after the other practical activities have been developed,
may be called critical appreciation. It finds expression
in all the forms of science, art, religion, and philosophy ;
and it is systematically cultivated by means of education.
This fourth great group of practical activities, which pre-
supposes all the others that have been described, may be
called the cultural activities.
The Motives of Activity. — We have now roughly de-
scribed all the kinds of practical activity that may be
discovered in a population. Before we leave this subject,
however, it is necessary to show how these activities arise,
and by what methods they are carried on.
All the conscious activities of mankind spring from cer-
tain internal motives, such as passions, appetites, desires
of various kinds, and ideas. It is necessary for the stu-
dent of Sociology to become in some degree familiar with
the motives of action because it is in them that the causes
of social change, as of many other things in human life,
are to be found.
The Motives of Appreciation are discovered partly in
the pleasures of sensation, and partly in the pleasures of
thought. Light, colour, musical tones, soft and delicate
surfaces, give us pleasure through the sensory organs of
sight, hearing, and pressure. The child is continually
46 The Elements of Sociology
moved to experiment with external objects because of
these pleasures of sensation which they afford him. As
soon as the mental life is somewhat developed, the more
complicated intellectual pleasures of admiration and curi-
osity begin to play an important part ; and they continue
through adult life to provoke men to search for knowledge.
Q^ The Motive of Utilization is that mode of feeling which
we call appetite. The craving for food is the primary
cause of most of the first efforts put forth by any living
creature. Somewhat later appear those desires which
prompt the efforts of men to find shelter, to make cloth-
ing, to provide themselves with comfortable houses, arti-
cles of convenience, and adornment. The motive back of
all these efforts is appetite in some form.
The Motive of Characterization is a little more difficult
to describe. It is a vague form of desire which springs
y- from the needs of the entire bodily and mental self,
rather than from the need or activity of any particular
organ. If, for example, a man were spending nearly all
of his time and effort in satisfying his hunger, many
organs of his body which did not happen to be called into
play would feel the need of exercise, and grow restive
under restraint. The powers of his mind, too, would
clamor for opportunity. Now this vague desire of the
entire self for opportunity and activity is the primary form
^ of the moral motive, — the motive of characterization. It
is a desire for completeness and expansion of life, a pro-
test against any incompleteness, failure, discouragement,
lack of resolution, or breadth of view. We may call it the
desire for integral — that is, complete — satisfaction.
The Primary Motive of Socialization is the pleasurable-
ness of acquaintance, companionship, and sympathy.
The Practical Activities of Socii 47
When we first begin to associate and to extend our ac-
quaintance, we do so simply because the acquaintance and
companionship give us pleasure. After a while, however,
when companionship and cooperation are found to serve
many useful ends, such as making life more secure, and
enabling us to do many things that no man could do for
himself without the aid of his fellows, we discover a second
motive of socialization ; namely, the usefulness of social '
relations.
The Methods of Activity. — These various motives work
out the processes or practical activities that have been
described, through various methods, which, also, the stu-
dent of Sociology should observe.
Methods of Appreciation. — The motives of appreciation
work out the activities of actual appreciation through two
chief methods.
1. Response to Stimnli. — One of these is known to stu-
dents of Psychology as responsiveness to stimulus. A
stimulus is anything that excites the activity of an organ
of sense. Thus, light is a stimulus to the nerves of the
retina of the eye ; the sound waves that may be produced
by a piano, the human voice, a violin, or any other musi-
cal instrument, are a stimulus to the auditory nerves of
the ear. The responsiveness of the organs of sense ,
to any stimulus is the primary method through which the
processes of appreciation are developed.
2. Imitation. — A secondary method is imitation. Imita-, /
tion, as we shall presently see, is one of the most important
methods of human action, especially in social affairs. To
a very large extent the child's appreciations are arrived at
through the method of imitation. Seeing something that
excites his admiration and curiosity, he tries to copy it;
48 The Elements of Sociology
and in the effort to copy, he becomes familiar with it and
strengthens his admiration of it to a degree that otherwise
would be quite impossible.
Methods of Utilization. — The motives of utilization work
themselves out through methods that are known by the
names attack, impression, imitation, and invention.
1. Attack includes the exertion of muscular force against
any living or non-living object which we desire to take and
use for our own purposes. It includes also the feelings
and the ideas that are associated with such muscular
efforts. These feelings are of all degrees, from the mere
consciousness of strength to an active hatred of the object
seized if it resists or proves to be dangerous.
2. Impression is the mental, as distinguished from the
muscular power, that one person or animal has over an-
other. Fear, and that not easily described mental state
which is often called fascination, enter into impression,
as, for example, they do when a timid bird is paralyzed by
the snake. Impression, however, may exist when fear is
hardly discoverable. The man of ordinary mental abilities
always feels the superior power of a person of great intel-
lectual gifts and executive ability, although that person
may be physically weak. Napoleon Bonaparte was physi-
cally a short, small man ; but he never failed to impress
those who came into his presence with a sense of his men-
tal power and strength of will. Impression is one of the
chief factors in all social affairs.
3. Invention. — Imitation has already been described.
Invention, as the word is used here, means more than the
mechanical invention which the word usually calls to mind.
In the psychological and sociological sense, inventions
include all new combinations of ideas, acts, things, and
The Practical Activities of Socii 49
forces. Thus the plot of a novel is an invention ; a suc-
cessful act of legislation for overcoming some public wrong
or inconvenience is an invention ; a new device in military
or naval strategy is likewise an invention. ''
Methods of Characterization. — The methods through 3
which the motive of characterization manifests itself are
persistence, accommodation, and self-control. Persistence
and self-control do not need to be described.
I. Accommodatioti is that change which takes place in
any living being, whether plant, animal, or man, when new
combinations or circumstances make necessary some modi-
fication of previous habits. When, for example, a shrub is
transplanted to a soil and climate different from those of
its native place, the continued life of the plant depends
upon its ability to adapt itself, that is, to accommodate
itself, to the new conditions. We have shown how the
immigrant coming to a new land has to make many
changes of habit in respect to almost every detail of his
life. All these changes are accommodations.
Method of Socialization. — The method through which
the motives of socialization manifest themselves is called
assimilation.
I. Assimilation is a reciprocal accommodation. Two
or more minds accommodate themselves to one another;
each learns something from the others ; each gives some-
thing to the others ; each nature is changed by the in-
fluence of the others. Assimilation is the method through
which the thousands of foreign-born residents of the
United States who have come from Ireland, Germany,
Scandinavia, Italy, Russia, and other countries are all
becoming Americans. All are learning from native-born
Americans, and native-born Americans are learning from
50 The Elements of Sociology
them. Each is setting examples to all the others; and
each is imitating all the others.
Conflict. — All of these methods, — namely, response
to stimulus, imitation, attack, impression, invention, per-
sistence, accommodation, self-control, and assimilation —
are so many modes of one universal method which is
found in every form of matter and in every state of mind.
That universal method is called conflict.
Every change that takes place in matter is a conflict of
I atoms or of molecules. Life is a continual conflict be-
tween the organic matter of plant or animal and the
forms of matter in surrounding space. So long as the
living matter is able to overcome, appropriate, and make
use of various forms of matter external to itself, life con-
tinues. But when, in the conflict, the external forms of
matter become stronger, and wear away, or, as we say, dis-
organize the matter of the living body, life presently
ceases. All thought and feeling are a conflict of sen-
sations, ideas, or groups of ideas. Even the pleasant
friendship of companions is a conflict; for it must be
remembered that not all conflicts are painful or even
unpleasant. The discussion of differing opinions, the
attempt to reconcile different plans, the struggle between
two opposing wills, — all these are forms of conflict ; but
they yield most of the pleasure as well as much of the
unhappiness of life. All the sports that awaken the in-
terest of boys on the playground, and afford them a chief
part of the pleasures of youth, are keen forms of conflict.
It is necessary to observe what forms of conflict are de-
structive and painful and what are constructive and pleasur-
able. Any student may see for himself that there are two
gradations of conflict. In one there is such unlikeness or
I
The Practical Activities of Socii 51
inequality between the contending objects or persons that
the complete destruction or subordination of the weaker
is the only possible outcome of the encounter. This sort
of conflict, which results in complete destruction or sub-
ordination, may be called primary conflict. All animal
life is maintained by a primary conflict. Animal life
is sustained only by organic matter. Even if mankind
should become strictly vegetarian in its habits, human life
would still be sustained by the primary conflict, because
it would still be necessary to destroy vegetable organisms.
Conflict, however, may be merely the opposition and
struggle of objects, persons, or states of mind that are .
so nearly alike and so nearly equal that the outcome is /
merely a modification of the nature, position, or point of
view of the contestants. This relatively mild kind of con-
flict is secondary, and is more often than not stimulating,
pleasurable, and helpful.
It could be shown that the secondary forms of conflict
all depend upon the continuation of the primary conflict.
It is not necessary, however, for the purposes of our present
study, to go into the more abstract details of the theory of
universal evolution, to which this subject properly belongs.
Toleration. — Primary and secondary conflicts appear in
all the practical activities of life. What we call progress
is a continual change in the proportion of secondary to
primary conflicts. If, with so much of primary conflict as
is essential to maintaining life and defending social organi-
zation against enemies who would invade and destroy, we
can continue to multiply those mild secondary conflicts
that are pleasurable and helpful, we may truthfully say
that we are making progress.
But, as we have seen, secondary conflict is possible only
$2 The Elements of Sociology
where the contending objects are much alike and nearly
equal in power. When it is possible for one contestant
to annihilate, enslave, or suppress the other, the propor-
tion of misery and disorganization may be greater than
the proportion of happiness and organization in the result.
But where the contestants are alike and equal, neither
, having any fear of ruin or of permanent injury, the strug-
gle ends in a better understanding and a more complete
cooperation.
I Happily, the normal tendency of conflict is towards
^ equality and the milder forms of strife. The antagonism
of primary conflict is self-limiting. It necessarily termi-
nates in a kind of equilibrium which we call toleration.
The very strong kill off the very weak. Then the very
strong in turn are overborne by the numerical superiority
of the individuals of average power. The majority then
left are too nearly equal in strength for one to hope to
vanquish the other ; and they are obliged to live on those
terms of toleration which make possible the reassertion
and renewed activity of the socializing motives. The
equilibrium is nevertheless tested from time to time, and
so is maintained, by frequent acts of aggression and re-
venge — occurrences which may be witnessed not only
between animals and savage men, but also, unfortunately,
j in civilized communities.
The relations of similarity and dissimilarity to social
activities and results will be further considered in the
following chapter.
PARALLEL STUDY
In any good elementary work on Psychology, such as James's
" Briefer Course " or Titchener's " Outlines," study or review the sub-
jects, Sensation, Reflex Action, Imitation, and Accommodation.
CHAPTER VI
Socialization
The Modes of Resemblance. — At the end of the preced-
ing chapter it was shown that if the individuals composing
a population are very unlike in kind or very unequal in
power, their relations are antagonistic in the extreme
sense of primary conflict. If, however, there is substan-
tial equality of power and a good degree of resemblance
in nature or kind, association and cooperation are possible.
It is necessary, therefore, to investigate the similarities
that make socialization possible.
In every population of conscious individuals, the simi-
larities of kind that exist and that make society possible
are of three chief modes ; and in each mode there are fur-
ther subdivisions.
Kinship. — The first mode of resemblance to be ob-
served is that which we call kinship. It is the resem-
blance of physical relationship, based upon identity of
blood. Everywhere in the world this mode of resemblance
plays an extremely important part in social affairs. Men
of the same race have common prejudices ; men of the
same nationality, in a still stronger degree, are drawn to-
gether ; and in a degree yet stronger, men of the same
family lineage show sympathies and common prejudices
that play a part in all the affairs of their everyday lives.
There are four important degrees or subdivisions of
53
54 The Elements of Sociology
kinship. These are, namely, family, nationality, race, and
colour.
The family degree of kinship includes those who are
most nearly related, as father, mother, children, brother,
and sister ; and in some instances the slightly more re-
mote degrees of kinship, as grandparents, grandchildren,
uncles, aunts, and cousins. Nationality is the degree of
kinship which includes all those of the same speech and
political associations, as, for example, all Englishmen, all
Frenchmen, all Germans or Italians. Race is the degree
of kinship which includes all those of either one or more
nationalities who are historically descended from some one
stock and speech ; that is, all who are really of one blood
and tradition, but who have been scattered through many
nationalities. Thus, for example, the Saxon race is now
found not only in England, but throughout North Amer-
ica and in Australia. The Celts are found in Ireland,
Scotland, France, Wales, and North America. The Scan-
dinavian blood is found in Sweden, Norway, Denmark,
and in the northwestern commonwealths of the United
States. Colour is that most remote degree of relationship
which includes all nationalities and races of the same gen-
eral external appearance in the matter of colour of the
skin and certain other physical characteristics. Thus,
for example, the white colour includes such races as the
Semitic, which has long lived to the southeast of the Med-
iterranean Sea, the Hamitic of Ancient Egypt and Phoe-
nicia, the Greek, Etruscan, Latin, Germanic, Celtic, and
other races of western Europe.
Another way of distinguishing degrees of kinship is
somewhat less accurate, but still very useful. It is that
which is employed in statistical accounts of population.
I
Socialization 55
Census statistics of population include these distinctions,
namely, native-born-of-native-parents, native-born-of-for-
eign-parents, foreign-born, and coloured.
These distinctions are important as showing to what
extent the demotic composition is a product of genetic
aggregation, and to what extent it is a congregation.
The native-born-of-native-parents are obviously more
closely related through long-continued intermarriage than
are the native-born-of-native-parents plus the native-born-
of -foreign-parents ; and the native-born-of-native-parents
plus the native-born-of-foreign-parents are more closely
related than are these two groups taken together plus
the foreign-born.
Mental and Moral Resemblance. — The second mode ^
of resemblance to be observed in every population is
one that may be called mental and moral similarity. It
may also be called like-mindedness — the name under
which it has been briefly described in the first chapter.
Mental and moral resemblance consists in a close simi-
larity of the thoughts, of the sympathies and affections, of
the purposes, or of all these together, of two or more
individuals.
These similarities do not exist except when there are
similarities in those elementary mental processes of sensa-
tion and in those elementary forms of nervous organiza-
tion which were alluded to in Chapters I and V. That is
to say, mental and moral resemblance is a consequence of ^
similar brain organization in two or more individuals; and^
the mental and moral resemblance itself, in its most ele-
mentary form, is a similar responsiveness of two or more
individuals to the same stimulus or stimuli.
For example, if two or more children prefer a certain
56 The Elements of Sociology
colour, as red, or blue, or yellow, to any other colour that is
shown them, these children, reacting in the same way to
the same stimulus, are, to this extent, mentally alike. If
two or more men, when entering upon their life work,
show a strong preference for a particular occupation, as,
for example, that of the sailor, they are to this extent
mentally alike. If many men, upon hearing that some
great disaster has overtaken the commercial world, are so
filled with fear that they sell their stocks or other invest-
ments, these men are mentally and morally in a high
degree alike. Or, finally, if hundreds or thousands of
men are so affected by some great wrong as to organize
in political parties, to hold public meetings, and carry on
a prolonged agitation to do away with the evil that de-
presses them, these men are so far mentally and morally
alike.
Like responsiveness to the same stimulus is discovered
in three stages of development. The first is a mere
initial responsiveness; it is a mere first interest in any
object. This first interest, even if for the moment very
strong, may not last. It may produce serious social re-
sults, however, as, for example, in a momentary panic.
A second degree is that persistent responsiveness which
becomes a habit or fixed manner. Thus most of our
forms of speech and of courtesy are like ways of respond-
ing to the stimulus of personal meeting which have be-
come habitual.
A third degree is the rational responsiveness which
involves the complex activity of all the powers of mind
and will, and the varied adaptation of means to end.
This degree of similar responsiveness is to be seen when
many individuals, confronted with some common danger
Socialization 57
to be avoided, or looking forward to some common inter-
est to be developed, consult, plan, and organize, and, from
time to time, modify plans and reorganize their forms of
cooperation as changing circumstances make new com-
binations of means necessary for the attainment of the
end in view. It is obvious that complete mental and
moral similarity of this high degree involves not only like
responsiveness to the same stimulus on the part of the
like-minded individuals, but also a substantial equality of
mental and moral power.
Potential Resemblance. — In every population there is
to be seen one more important mode of similarity. This
may be called potential resemblance. As the word ** po-
tential " implies, the resemblance here referred to is not one
already fully established. It is a resemblance that is
possible or in the way of being established. Strictly
speaking, it is that peculiarity of two or more minds which
makes them so act and react upon one another that in ^
course of time they become alike. We all know from
personal experience that there are some minds among
our acquaintances that never become more sympathetic
with our own. The oftener we engage in argument
with them, the further apart do they and we seem to
drift. With other minds the case is wholly different.
The ripening of acquaintance is the ripening of sympathy
and agreement. Our differences disappear or become of
little consequence. We learn to see things in the same
light and to regard them with the same feelings. This
organization of two or more minds which makes their
sympathetic approach or agreement certain is the thing
which is meant by the term " potential resemblance." It
is potential resemblance that makes possible the assimi-
58 The Elements of Sociology
lation of the very different types of mind which come
into a country by immigration, to the common mental
and moral type of the land of their adoption.
The Consciousness of Resemblance. — Such are the modes
of resemblance that make socialization possible. Let us
now look at the mental consequences of resemblance which
enter into and constitute the process of socialization itself.
Sensations of Meeting. — When two persons who have
never before seen one another unexpectedly meet, some-
thing happens in the nervous organization of each which,
when examined, clearly shows that the meeting is as
truly a conflict as would be a collision of two mortal
enemies. J The only difference is that the one conflict
may be almost infinitesimal in magnitude, and involve no
unpleasant feelings whatsoever, while the other would
involve perhaps both terror and pain.
That which takes place, then, in the nervous apparatus
of a person who unexpectedly meets a stranger is either
a shock of unpleasant feeling or a certain thrill of pleas-
urable feeling. Which of these it would be, no human
intelligence could beforehand have predicted.
Now the feeling of shock, surprise, anger, disgust,
which may happen to be the experience in the case, is
beyond doubt due to a very complicated impression of
unlikeness which the stranger makes. This complicated
impression is made up of sensations of many kinds :
sensations of sight, sensations of hearing, perhaps also
sensations of odour and of touch. The man's appearance
as seen with the eye may be repellent or threatening ; his
voice may grate unpleasantly on the ear; the touch of
his hand may create something closely akin to a shudder.
Suppose, however, that the experience is a thrill of
Socialization 59
pleasure. Here the effect is produced by a complex
combination of impressions of unlikeness with impressions
of likeness ; namely, impressions of the difference of the
stranger from the person who encounters him, with impres-
sions of his apparent resemblance. It is instantly clear that
this hitherto unknown individual has his own distinctive
personality ; he is in many respects, perhaps in outward
appearance, perhaps in tone of voice, almost certainly in
mind and character, different from the one who confronts
him. At the same time there is something in his face that
pleases ; something in his voice or hand grasp that awakens
confidence. This means that the activities of his mind,
the peculiarities of his character, expressing themselves
throughout his life in nerve and muscle reactions, have left in
his manner and in the lines of his face a registration which
the person encountering him instantly interprets as signs
of a personality sympathetic with his own. It is a person-
ality which awakens the familiar forms of thought and
feeling of his own consciousness.
It is quite possible for the first impression made by a
stranger to be little more than sensation and emotion.
Thoughts, ideas, perceptions, in the strict meaning of
these words, may hardly enter into the matter at all.
The whole occurrence may be little more than an awaken-
ing of what may be called organic sympathy or organic
repulsion in distinction from certain more highly devel-
oped modes of the consciousness of difference and of
likeness which are further on to be explained.
Organic Sympathy. — The origins of this organic antag-
onism or organic sympathy, as the case may be, must now
be briefly explained. Many social facts would be alto-
gether mysterious if they were not known to have a close
6o The Elements of Sociology
connection with the simple mental processes in which or-
ganic sympathy arises.
Long before the infant begins to think, and while its
mental life is little more than a series of sensations, it has
entered upon a group of experiences which are preparing
it to regard very differently the individuals who, in after
years, will be found to be on the whole like its own self,
and on the whole unlike that self. The infant does not
yet know the difference between persons who are similar
to himself and those who are very dissimilar from him-
self. But he is undergoing experiences which will pres-
ently make such knowledge inevitable.
When he cries or coos, a certain impression is made
upon his own organs of hearing by these explosions of his
own voice. When his nurse or mother sings to him, a cer-
tain impression is again made upon his organs of hearing.
When the dog barks or the bird chirps in the cage, once
more a definite impression is made upon the infantile
nerves of hearing. But something else also is happening.
The sound made by the mother's voice has been like that
made by the child's own voice ; while the sounds made by
the dog and bird have been unlike those made by the
child's own voice. When the infant puts his hands to-
gether or passes them over his face, he receives in his
brain certain sensations of pressure. When he passes his
hands over his mother's face and over her hands, he again
receives sensations of pressure ; and they are very like
the sensations that he has received from his own body.
When he passes his hands over the sides of the crib or of
the blankets or along the fur of the cat, he once more re-
ceives sensations of pressure ; but they are unlike those
received from his own body.
Socialization 6 1
These simple illustrations serve as well as scores of
others that might be offered to bring out a truth of great
importance. This is, that long before a child perceives,
or thinks, in the strict meaning of thesfc words, it has
begun to lay up in its consciousness a multitude of experi-
ences in the form of mere sensations of likeness or of un-
likeness of kind or class. In all these experiences he
himself is one term in the comparison. The external
object is like himself or unlike himself. He does not yet
know this ; but, at one time, he has sensations which are
like the sensations received from himself, and at another
time he has sensations which are unlike the sensations
received from himself.
When, a little older, the child is beginning to imitate
the actions of people about him, if closely watched by an
intelligent observer, he will be found to imitate more easily
and more frequently the persons who are very like himself.
Here again the child does not know that he is making any
such discrimination. It is only the third party, the exter-
nal observer, who can know this fact. None the less, the
fact is one that will have important consequences for the
child in later life. One of the simplest ways in which this
truth can be proved by any student who cares to put it to
the test is by observations of children learning to talk.
Children can understand each other oftentimes when it is
impossible for strangers to understand them, extremely
difficult for the father, but much less difficult for the
mother. That is to say, children imitate the sounds made
by one another more easily than the sounds made by grown
people. And, as a general rule, the child who has brothers
and sisters a little older than itself learns to talk more
readily than the child who associates only with adults.
62 The Elements of Sociology
In the development of resembling individuals, the men-
tal processes that have been described in the last five
paragraphs are combined with a more general process
previously mentioned; namely, the like response of
like minds to like stimuli. Accordingly, there are three
chief factors of organic sympathy ; namely, first, the like
responsiveness of like individuals to the same stimulus ;
second, like sensations received by like individuals from
self and others ; third, the readier imitation of one another
j by like individuals than by those who greatly differ.
Perceptions of Likeness. — When the child begins to
combine sensations of the moment with memories of simi-
lar sensations in the past, and to connect these immediate
and memory sensations with the objects which have pro-
duced them, the process of perception has begun. The
child now not only has like and unlike sensations ; he has
perceptions of likeness and of unlikeness. These are
much more complicated mental states.
It seems probable that perceptions of unlikeness appear
earlier in the experience of every individual than percep-
tions of likeness. Indeed, likeness can be distinguished
from absolute identity only by perceptions of the differ-
ences that exist between things that are, in certain re-
spects, alike.
From this truth it follows that in the process of acquaint-
ance the differences between one individual and another
are first observed ; and that a sense of difference is always
present in the mind to be more or less overcome by any
growing sense of similarity. This is why it happens that
when two strangers meet^ the mental experience in the
first instance is one of surprise or shock, or of some milder
form of conflict.
Socialization 63
From this principle follow also certain other important
sociological facts. In every mixed population, where men
of different nationalities and different customs dwell side
by side, the sense of difference long stande in the way of
complete acquaintance and assimilation. For example, in
any large American city, where are found the native-born
and such groups of foreign-born as the Irish, the German,
the Italian, the Russian Jew, and many others, the strong
impression of difference between these types operates as a
serious barrier to the complete adaptation of all types to a
common American citizenship.
The sense of difference, however, only impedes ; it does
not prevent the appearance in consciousness of percep-
tions of resemblance. If, in the population, there are
in fact as many resemblances as are usually found in in-
dividuals of the same species, much more of the same
nationality, there presently appear in the minds of all
who are sufficiently developed to be able to perceive dif-
ferences (that is, to have perceptions of any kind) per-
ceptions of a new order, namely, perceptions of similarity.
Reflective Sympathy. — When the perception of resem-
blance has arisen in consciousness, it immediately reacts
upon that organic sympathy which has already been de-
scribed. The sympathy between like individuals which
takes the form of imitation and of like response to the
same stimulus, now becomes an intelligent and reflective
sympathy. It is awakened by the knowledge that an-
other person is like one's self. When we perceive that
some one who is organized as we are is doing a certain
thing, we feel the impulse to act as he acts. If he ap-
pears to be in pain, we feel a certain discomfort or even
a certain degree of the pain that he experiences. If he
64 The Elements of Sociology
•
is evidently in a state of great joy, we also feel a certain
degree of gladness.
We have now noticed three important mental conse-
quences of resemblance between one individual and an-
other. Resembling individuals have like sensations and
respond in like ways to the same stimulus. They uncon-
sciously imitate one another. These facts together make
up organic sympathy. In course of time, with further
development of consciousness, resembling individuals per-
ceive that they are alike ; they become aware of their
similarity. And in the third place, the perception of
similarity, in combination with organic sympathy, becomes
reflective, intelligent sympathy. The resembling individ-
uals not only sympathize with one another, but they know
that they sympathize, and to a certain extent they are
aware that their sympathy is affected by the perception of
resemblance.
Two more mental consequences of resemblance must
now be noted.
Affection. — The perception of resemblance and con-
scious sympathy commonly develop into the stronger feel-
ing which is variously named liking, friendliness, and
affection, according to the degree of its strength. Those
individuals who, as we say, have something in common,
that is, those who are so much alike that they are sym-
pathetic and have similar ideas and tastes, on the whole
like one another better than individuals who have little or
nothing in common. We must not make the mistake,
however, of supposing that in all cases the strongest affec-
tion springs up between persons who, at the moment of
their first acquaintance, are actually very much alike in
mental and moral qualities. Perhaps the more frequent
Socialization 65
case is that of a growing affection between,, persons whose
similarity is that which has been called potential resem-
blance. Apparently it is the capacity of two or more per-
sons to become alike in mental and moral nature, under
each other's influence, that gives rise to the strongest
friendship and the highest degree of pleasure in compan-
ionship.
Desire for Recognition. — The remaining mental fact to
be noted as a consequence of resemblance is the desire
which an individual feels for recognition, including a
return of sympathy and affection. When a person per-
ceives that his acquaintance resembles himself in mind
and character, and is conscious of a certain sympathy and
affection for his acquaintance, he looks for some manifes-
tation of interest in himself. He expects the acquaintance
also to recognize the points of similarity and to show feel-
ings of sympathy and liking. This state of mind is the
basis of some of the most important social passions, such
as pride and ambition.
The Consciousness of Kind. — The four modes of con-
sciousness which have now been described must not be
thought of as separate or as independent of one another.
They are so intimately blended that it is only by a process
of scientific analysis that they can be thought of singly.
In actual experience, they are united in a state of mind
that, for the moment, seems perfectly simple and homo-
geneous. The perception of resemblance, the sympathy,
the affection, and the desire for recognition that go with
it, seem, for the time being, to be as perfectly one fact of
consciousness as does the image of a person or of a land-
scape upon the retina of the eye. This state of conscious-
ness is pleasurable, and includes the feeling that we wish
y
66 The Elements of Sociology
to maintain it and to expand it. The feeling that it car-
ries with it is, in fact, like that which one experiences while
engaged in a pleasurable game or witnessing an engross-
ing drama. One does not stop to ask whether it is useful
or worth while, any more than he does when eagerly look-
ing forward to the next successful move on a chess board.
He simply enjoys it while it lasts, and feels that it is
worth while in itself, quite irrespective of any consequences
that may follow.
We are now ready to give a name to this interesting
mode of consciousness which springs from the resemblance
of two or more individuals to one another. We call it the
consciousness of kind.
The consciousness of kindy then^ is that pleasurable state
of mind wJiich includes organic sympathy ^ the perception of
resemblance, conscious or reflective sympathy ^ affection, and
the desire for recognition.
Complex as it is, the consciousness of kind is the sim-
plest of all the states of mind that can be called social.
All other states of the human mind which can be called
social and which enter into social activities are found upon
examination to be composed of the consciousness of kind
in combination with various other ideas, desires, and pas-
sions. The consciousness of kind is the cause of all the
social activities and relations which men enter upon intel-
ligently, knowing what they are about, in distinction from
those acts that are merely automatic or impulsive.
It is important to observe that, because the conscious-
ness of kind is complex, it is necessarily an ever-changing
mental state. It varies as one or another of its elements
is predominant. At one time, it may be chiefly an idea ;
at another time, chiefly sympathy ; at another time, chiefly
Socialization 6/
the desire for recognition ; but never is it one of these
elements alone. All are present in some degree.
It must be observed also that the consciousness of kind
varies with the degree of resemblance upon which it is
based. Sympathy and affection decrease as resemblance
becomes more general and vague. Thus, for example,
there is usually a stronger sympathy among all members
of a family than among all members of a nation ; and a
stronger sympathy among men of a common nationality
than among all men of the same race or colour. In like
manner, there is a greater sympathy among Protestants
than among Protestants and Roman Catholics taken to-
gether; and more sympathy among Protestants and Ro-
man Catholics taken together than among all devotees of
all religions taken together.
TJie Laiv of Sympathy. — The law of sympathy may
therefore be expressed as follows : —
The degree of sympathy decreases as the ge^terality of
resemblance increases. ^
The Objective Process. — The growth of the conscious-
ness of kind is the mental or subjective side of socializa-
tion. Socialization must be examined, however, from what
may be called the objective side ; that is, from the side
of certain activities which spring from the consciousness
of kind and react upon it, making it a broader and deeper
experience, expanding the thought of resemblance, and
enlarging the sympathies.
Cofnmunication. — The first step in this outward or ob-
jective process of socialization is communication — the
systematic exchange of ideas and feelings.
In every aggregation of individuals in which there are
many differences, but also some positive resemblances
68 The Elements of Sociology
and already some consciousness of kind, there is always
some communication.
The first impressions of meeting are usually confused.
Impressions of difference and impressions of resemblance
are so mingled in the mind that one is left in doubt as to
the real degree of resemblance and the possible interest
and pleasure of further acquaintanceship. The desire to
have more definite knowledge on these points is the origi-
nal motive of communication.
Among both animals and men, in the presence of a
fellow-being there is always an expression of feeling by
muscular movements, tones of voice, or articulate lan-
guage. The expression by means of involuntary move-
ments is often quite sufficient to reveal to the onlooker
what he most desires to know about the person in whose
presence he happens to be. Especially is this true of the
involuntary expression of any feeling of aggression or of
shrinking. The quick interpretation of such changes is
a perception, and even a judgment, of kind — a sort of
instantaneous decision of the question, ** Is this fellow my
sort of a man, or is he something else } "
Among the more intelligent creatures, such as the
higher species of animals and human beings, this first
instantaneous judgment of kind is followed by a more
deliberate and varied communication which corrects or
verifies and expands the first impression. We have only
to observe the action of two strange dogs when they en-
counter one another, to get a correct idea of the origins
of communication. Before concluding to fight or to make
friends, they eye and sniff each other, show teeth, growl,
and express a dozen shades of feeling and conviction by
movements of the head and neck, haunches, and tail. All
Socializatio7i 69
this is simply a way of " sizing up " one another and de-
ciding what their immediate relations shall be. Much the
same sort of thing may be observed on any school play-
ground. The new boy is surrounded and subjected to all
sorts of inquiries and tests to determine what sort of a
fellow he is, and whether he is of the right kind to be
accepted as a persona grata by those who already have
the running of the playground in their hands. In col-
leges the " rushing " of men for the fraternities is another
good example of the same process. Among adults in po-
lite society the process is a little more refined and long-
drawn-out ; but it is not really different in character. Be-
fore the basis of association is finally established for two
or more persons, their inquisition of one another extends
to a comparison of genealogies, of personal experiences,
of tastes, beliefs, and ambitions. The motives of all this
communication are the desires to impress and to influence
one another, and to know one another thoroughly well,
and so to define the consciousness of kind. After ac-
quaintance is established, much communication takes place
which seems to have its motive in our interest in the sub-
ject that we talk about. Even then, however, the other
motives that have been mentioned can always be detected ;
and it is probable that they are in all cases the really pre-
dominant ones, although we are not always conscious of
the fact.
Association. — When communication is indefinitely con-
tinued, association, as distinguished from mere aggrega-
tion, exists, and socialization is begun. Communication
has satisfied the meeting individuals that they are too
much alike and too nearly equal for either to attempt in
any sense, physical or mental, to conquer the other. At
70 The Elements of Sociology
this stage of their acquaintance, however, it is by no means
certain that the secondary conflict which must continue
among them will always be sympathetic and pleasurable.
In a population of mixed elements such as congregation
often brings together, contention is likely to be harsh or
even bitter during a long period of assimilation.
Assimilation, it will readily be understood from the
name itself, is the process of growing alike. Two or more
individuals so modify one another's ideas and dispositions
that, in the course of their acquaintance, their differences
become fewer or less serious ; antagonism gives place to
agreement ; and their ideas and purposes grow more and
more alike.
The Socializing Motives and Methods. — It is obvious
that this process .really consists in a modification of indi-
vidualistic (that is, purely self-seeking) motives and activi-
ties. The individualistic motives have been described in
Chapter V. That which modifies them and produces
assimilation and socialization is the consciousness of
kind. Let us, then, observe the modifications of individ-
ualistic motives, and of individualistic modes of activity,
that result from the combination with them of a growing
consciousness of kind.
I . The consciousness of kind modifies appetite and desire.
Few., if any, of our appetites and desires are what they
would have been if each individual had lived by himself
in contact only with the physical world and lower forms
of life. When a strange food is first tasted, it is usually
on the recommendation of one in whom we have confi-
dence, and whose tastes in many other respects we know
to be like our own. To a great extent we cultivate certain
appetites and repress others merely because our associates
Socialization yi
do so. M ost of the consumers of tobaccc^ *' learn " to li ke
it. Our clothing is chosen with as much reference to our
class or set as to our comfort. In general, the standard
of living is largely determined by the consciousness of
kind.
2. T/ie conscioiis7iess of kind modifies the ideas and the
desires that enter into the consciousness of integral self-
satisfaction. Fortitude in bearing pain and disappoint-
ment, courage in facing danger, and persistence of purpose
are greatly strengthened by fellow-feeling and the desire
for esteem and praise. Besides thus fortifying the original
moral motives, the consciousness of kind contributes a
new one, the very names of which are significant of its
origin ; to wit, kindness, affection, love. This motive
manifests itself in a new mode of conduct, namely, self-
sacrifice. Affection and self-sacrifice probably originate
in organic sympathy.
3. The consciousness of kind modifies impression. Im-
pression produces two very different effects. One is fear,
which may become terror, and terminate in paralysis ; the
other is fascination and pleasure. The one mode of
impression is the cause of submission, surrender, and the
abject kind of obedience ; the other mode of impression is
the cause of loyalty, fealty, and the voluntary attachment
to a leader.
The effect of the consciousness of kind upon the fear-
inspiring mode of impression is reflected in the saying that
familiarity breeds contempt. The sense of difference and
its accompanying sense of mystery are a large element in
fear. These disappear with the discovery of resemblance.
Rulers and dignitaries who wish to inspire fear invariably
surround themselves with an air of mystery, and foster the
72 The Elements of Sociology
public delusion that, in some inexplicable way, they are
unlike other men. The effect of the consciousness of kind
upon the fascination-producing mode of impression is to
intensify devotion. The more " in touch " our leader is
with us, that is to say, the more like us he is in every
respect except his superior sagacity and power, the more
blind and unswerving is our allegiance.
4. The consciousness of kind modifies imitation. We do
not imitate one example as readily as we imitate another.
Other things being equal, we imitate the example that is
set by an originative mind in our own class or circle.
All of our motives and methods that are thus modified
by the consciousness of kind become socializing motives
and methods, and play their part in the gradual assimila-
tion of the partially unlike elements of a heterogeneous
population. It is, however, the socially modified imitation
that is chiefly efficient.
Social Imitation. — We imitate one another because our
nervous apparatus is so organized that any sight or sound
or touch is a stimulus which results in muscular move-
ments that, by long habit, have become associated with
such stimuli. If, for example, you see your friend reach
out his hand for a glass of water, the chances are that
unless you stop to think about it and deliberately restrain
yourself, you also will reach out to take the glass of water
that stands near you. We imitate, then, except when we
consciously restrain ourselves; and this we do not do
if the action imitated is pleasurable, and is obviously
conducive to well-being. In this latter case our con-
scious will reinforces the tendency to imitate, and we
deliberately repeat our own and one another's acts in-
definitely. In this way conscious imitations may extend
Socialization 73
to populations numbered by millions, and^ be kept up for
thousands of years. Modern civilization is the continuing
imitation of Greece and Rome. This imitation was estab-
lished in Germanic Europe by Charlemagne. It was
carried to England by William the Conqueror, and to
America by Columbus. It is now being spread by the
nations of Europe and America throughout Asia, Africa,
Australia, and Oceanica.
Not all imitations, however, indefinitely survive. The
imitation of examples in any way remarkable tends to
overcome or to combine lesser imitations. It is for this
reason that in each nation and in each local subdivision
of a national population certain habits, such as customs
in eating, clothing, and amusements, are practically uni-
versal there, but are not found in other parts of the world.
In every population, therefore, there may be ob-
served a general approach to certain persistent types
of action, expression, and character. This is the socializ-
ing process in its most subtle and efficacious mode. It
is this that ultimately blends the diverse elements of the
most heterogeneous populations into a homogeneous type.
It creates a common speech, common modes of thought,
and common standards of living. By destroying or soften-
ing many original differences of speech, belief, and prac-
tice, it promotes intermarriage. It is these influences that
will gradually assimilate all the foreign-born elements in
the population of the United States to a persistent Ameri-
can type.
The Persistence of Conflict. — Imitations, however, are
never perfect. The example or copy is never perfectly
reproduced, and consequently, as any action or custom
spreads from person to person and from group to group.
74 The Elements of Sociology
it in some measure changes its form, just as a story re-
peated by one person after another presently becomes so
different from the original version that the one who first
told it can hardly recognize it. Imitations, therefore, tend
to multiply and subdivide and become differentiated. For
this reason there may arise in any society a conflict among
imitations. When this happens, one of two results must
follow. If the conflicting imitations are irreconcilable,
' one must give way to the other. If, however, they can
be combined, the outcome may be an entirely new thing
or mode of activity; namely, an invention. The most
important of the conflicts between imitations is that be-
tween imitations of things old, venerable, long-standing,
and the imitation of novelty. The one kind of imitation
we call custom ; the other we call fashion. At times
custom-imitation encroaches upon fashion ; at other times
I fashion seems to encroach upon custom.
While, therefore, imitation on the whole softens conflict
and assimilates the unUke elements of a population, it at
times becomes itself a cause of fresh conflict and an
obstacle to assimilation.
Thus, notwithstanding the socializing motives, there re-
main in a population persistent causes of the more serious
modes of conflict.
First, of course, are the instincts of conquest which are
kept alive by the necessity of destroying life to maintain
life, and the instincts of aggression that are kept alive
by the opposition always met with by those individuals
and populations that develop more rapidly than others-
Wherever civilization finds itself face to face with sav-
agery, or a young and growing civilization finds itself
opposed to one old and decaying, the antagonism is too
Socialization 75
serious to expend itself in the lesser fofms of secondary
conflict.
Secondly, there are original differences of nature and
habitjthat have not yet been blended or neutralized by
the process of assimilation.
Thirdly, there are the secondary differences that con-
tinually arise through the conflicts of imitation.
To these must be added occasional causes that at times
operate with terrible effect. These are the failure of or-
dinary food supplies, as in times of famine, and the occa-
sional occurrence of some great calamity, like flood or
pestilence, which demoralizes people with fear and so far
destroys sympathy and self-sacrifice as to leave only the
animal instincts of self-preservation in full activity.
Subjective Toleration. — These lapses from toleration,
however, are not enduring. The causes that establish
toleration in the first instance tend to reestablish it after
every failure. Cooperating with the tendency of primary
conflict to bring about an equilibrium of strength, there is
now, in addition, a conscious desire for the amelioration
of strife. Socialization has moulded thought and charac-
ter. In addition to toleration as a mere objective fact,
there has at length appeared an idea of toleration and
a wish to maintain it. There has come into existence a
subjective toleration.
PARALLEL STUDY
Using the " Compendium of the Eleventh Census," make coloured or
shaded maps showing degrees of kinship in different parts of the
United States. In Psychology, study or review the subject " Percep-
tion." Read Aristotle's " Nicomachean Ethics," Books VIII and IX,
Adam Smith's " Theory of Moral Sentiments," Part I, Chapters I-V,
and Tarde's " Les Lois de I'Imitation."
CHAPTER VII
Cooperation
The Nature of Cooperation. — Of all social facts none
has received so much attention or been so carefully
studied as cooperation.
This word stands for many kinds of mutual aid. We
say that men cooperate when they combine their efforts
to accomplish a particular task ; as, for example, that of
lifting a heavy object which one man could not move.
We say that they cooperate when they work together in
more highly organized ways ; as, for example, in a man-
ufacturing estabhshment. Again, we use the word "co-
operation " for combined efforts in aggression or defence.
The soldiers of a regiment cooperate with one another;
regiments themselves cooperate; infantry and artillery,
army and navy, cooperate. Yet again, we use the word
" cooperation " for political organization. The combination
of various agencies of government and of these with the
obedience to law by all good citizens, is no less a coopera-
tion than is the combination of efforts in industry or in
military operations.
It seems, then, that, from one point of view, nearly
every kind of activity in human society is a form of co-
operation. For this reason there have been writers on
Sociology who have described cooperation as the essential
76
Cooperation yy
and distinctive fact of society, and have thought that
the science of Sociology was concerned chiefly with an
account of the forms and methods of cooperation.
This opinion can very easily be shown to be mistaken.
Already the careful reader of the preceding chapters has
become aware that the agreement, the unity of purpose
and of method on the part of two or more individuals
that cooperation requires, is not possible under any and
all conditions that may be imagined. There can be no
cooperation except among those who are, in a good degree,
like-minded, and who are so far conscious of their
agreement that they can intelligently plan their common
activity.
This is merely another way of saying that cooperation
can be established only in a population which in a
measure has become socialized. There must be a con-
sciousness of kind, communication, habits of imitation;
or, if these fail, where the population contains ele-
ments not yet assimilated and too unlike for harmonious
combination, there must at least be an established tolera-
tion.
Among these requisites for cooperation, the all-essential
ones are the like-mindedness and the consciousness of
kind. Why this is so must now be explained.
Obviously, there can, be no cooperation unless there is
among the individuals who are to combine their efforts
a common interest in some object or end which they
wish to attain. Now this common interest is that men-
tal fact which has already been described as a like
response to the same stimulus. If a score of men
and boys on the street unite in chasing a thief who has
snatched a purse from a pedestrian, it is because they
yS The Elements of Sociology
are all moved in like ways by the same occurrence ; their
conduct is a similar response to the same stimulus.
Moreover, there must be not only this common respon-
siveness to the same stimulus, but also a perception by
each of the cooperating individuals that he and all of
those who are working with him are thus responding.
That is, each must understand that all have the same
interest and that all are endeavouring to accomplish the
same end. If this perception were lacking, cooperation
would be only a momentary occurrence that could not
be continuously maintained.
Besides these mental conditions of cooperation, there
must of course be communication, and there must be con-
fidence in one another.
Already the student will have reflected that these men-
tal conditions together are a consciousness of kind. Like
responsiveness to the same stimulus and the perception by
each that all have the same interest, are respectively a
mode of like-mindedness and a consciousness of like-
mindedness; while communication and confidence both
grow out of the consciousness of kind and contribute to it.
The actual relation of the consciousness of kind to
cooperation can most clearly be seen from an examination
of a few examples.
Let us suppose that it is proposed to organize an expe-
dition to develop the resources of some hitherto unoccu-
pied portion of the world, which is believed to be rich in
mineral deposits and to present fine opportunities for the
development of agriculture and manufactures later on.
The promoters of the enterprise will certainly not accept
all who profess to desire to join the expedition. Only
those will be taken who are thought to have the physical
Cooperation 79
endurance, the ability to lead a life of hardship, the re-
sourcefulness and presence of mind that are necessary
in hours of danger, and, above all, the interest and faith
in the expedition which will make them loyal to the enter-
prise throughout all vicissitudes and disappointments.
Suppose again, to take quite a different example, that
a group of workingmen who are dissatisfied with their
treatment by employers propose a combined resistance.
One of two plans will be chosen : either a trade union will
be organized, including those and only those who are
engaged in the same craft or industry ; or a local organ-
ization will be formed, including all those employed in
many different industries, who have a common grievance.
In either case it is obvious that the test of like-mindedness
is applied. Devotion to a common interest is made a final
condition of the proposed cooperation.
Yet again, suppose that political cooperation is proposed.
It is desired to convert large numbers of voters to a belief
in the wisdom of a certain policy and to organize them
effectively for campaign work. All voters who support
this policy will be eagerly welcomed to the ranks of the
party-following ; but diligence will be exercised in organ-
izing the actual work of electioneering. Only those men
will be accepted as campaign speakers, as officers of the
clubs and committees, as interviewers, and as watchers at
the polls, who are known to be earnestly in sympathy with
the policy that is at stake.
Once again, let it be a mere social organization or club
that is to be brought into existence and, as long as possi-
ble maintained for the pleasure and comfort of its members.
Here also the tests of like-mindedness and the conscious-
ness of kind are strictly applied. The man who is pro-
8o The Elements of Sociology
posed for membership must be, as the saying is, a clubable
man ; he must have the qualities of geniality, good-fellow-
ship, good temper, ability to contribute his share to pleas-
ant conversation, and to whatever form of social enjoyment
happens at the moment to be uppermost.
In all these cases, accordingly, we see that in organizing
any form of cooperation, the men who have the enterprise
in charge are not only aware of the importance of like-
mindedness and of a consciousness of kind, but also actually
make these things the basis of the selection of the cooperat-
ing individuals.
Like-mindedness, then, and the consciousness of kind
are necessary antecedents of cooperation of any sort ; and
cooperation is, therefore, not the fundamental or most
^ I general fact of society.
> The Causes of Cooperation. — We have now further to
observe that not only must like-mindedness precede coop-
eration, but also that if the like-mindedness and the con-
sciousness of kind exist, the cooperation necessarily fol-
lows. When a population is undergoing socialization by
the processes described in the preceding chapter, it en-
gages in cooperative activities as a necessary consequence
of the same causes and conditions that establish the mental
and moral changes of socialization.
This becomes clearly apparent to the student when once
more he recalls the fundamental condition of all social ac-
tivities^namely, the like responsiveness to the same stimuli,
and remembers that like responsiveness is the doing of the
same thing under the same or like circumstances. Like
responsiveness to stimulus shades so gradually into coop-
eration that it is often difficult to discover at what point
the cooperation begins. Where, for instance, does it
Cooperation v^^
begin in the pursuit of the thief on the §treet, mentioned
a moment ago ? The question is obviously one of degrees
or stages of responsiveness. If, for example, all the men
and women and children of a village rush out of their
houses to see a fire that has flamed up upon the horizon
many miles away, the act is merely a like response to the
same stimulus. If, a few hours later, the fire is discovered
to be a prairie or forest conflagration that is sweeping on-
ward with great rapidity towards their own hamlet, these
people begin to take measures to prevent the destruction
of their property. They go out with ploughs and spades to
throw up furrows of earth which they hope the flames will
not cross. We now speak of their activity as cooperation.
The only difference, however, between their conduct at
the first and at the last is that at the last the like respon-
siveness is carried a stage or two further and results in
the accomplishment of a purpose of common interest.
In ways like this, as a matter of fact, all cooperation
arises; and under favourable circumstances, all like respon-
siveness to the same stimulus becomes cooperation. To
the uncritical observer, the beginnings of cooperation such
as may be seen among animals and, on a larger scale,
among uncivilized men, seem to be merely accidental. |
Beetles among insects ; mice, rats, and squirrels among
rodents, often aid each other in moving objects too heavy
for one alone to manage. Various species of hunting
birds frequently drive fish into the corner of a bay or curve
of a river by forming a line across the water. Packs of
hunting animals carry cooperation of this simple sort yet
further. In all these cases it is easy to say that the coop-
eration has originally been purely accidental, and that it
has become habitual through the development of instinct
82 The Elements of Sociology
by natural selection. This explanation, however, does not
go to the root of the matter. Instinct has not been devel-
oped by natural selection without having had material to
work on ; and that material, in all cases, has been the like
responsiveness of the like nervous organizations of the
cooperating animals or men to the same stimulus.
Among like-minded individuals, cooperation thus neces-
_^sarily initiated is necessarily further developed because it
yields to the cooperating individuals the same kind of
pleasure.
The pleasure here referred to is not that which is af-
forded by the remoter utilities, such as an abundance of
food, or security against danger, in which the cooperation
presently results ; it is the immediate pleasure of combined
activity. When a boat crew rows or a football team
plays for practice, it not only enjoys in anticipation the
hoped-for triumph over a rival organization in some future
contest, but it enjoys at the moment the pleasurable reac-
tion of concerted physical and mental activity. In the ex-
citement of play, the football men do not think of the future
victory to be achieved; they are absorbed in the incidents
of the immediate contest. All cooperation, bringing indi-
viduals together in combined effort, yields this stimulating
excitement in a greater or a less degree and therefore more
or less of immediate pleasure, which becomes a motive for
continuing and perfecting the cooperation.
Thus begun and partially developed by like-minded in-
dividuals, cooperation is yet further developed and per-
/ fected because the remoter utilities which it creates are
by its like-minded participants regarded in like ways. If
a particular mode of cooperation produces an unwonted
abundance of food supplies, or establishes a degree of
Cooperation 83
security hitherto unknown, the men who^ have engaged
in cooperative activity because they are Uke-minded neces-
sarily see and interpret the results in substantially the
same way ; they reason in substantially the same way
about the desirability of perpetuating and increasing such
results by a further extension of their cooperation.
For three reasons, then, cooperation, which can arise
only among the like-minded, among them necessarily does
arise as a consequence of their like-mindedness and social- ,
ization. They respond in like ways to the same stimuli, U^
and thus find themselves actually cooperating before they
know why or how. They find the same pleasure in ^
cooperative activity ; and therefore, irrespective of its re-
moter results, desire to continue and to perfect it. In like
ways they perceive, interpret, and reason about the useful jO
results more remotely flowing from cooperative activity,
and therefore decide with a common judgment to continue
and to extend it.
The Forms of Cooperation. — Thus originating in like-
mindedness, cooperation develops into various forms and
through successive stages of complication, step by step
with the development of like-mindedness itself and of the
consciousness of kind.
In its beginnings, cooperation is simple and direct in
its plan or form. Such, for example, is the cooperation
of rural neighbours in a barn-raising or a corn-husking.
Another simple form of cooperation is indirect. In-
stead of being a combination of the efforts of two or more
individuals in doing precisely the same thing, it is a com-
bination of their efforts in achieving the same general
result through a performance of different specific things.
For example, each of two men in a camping party gets an
84 The Elements of Sociology
abundance of fish and meat for his supper, if one of them
has spent the day in taking trout, and the other in shoot-
ing game, and at night they trade portions of their day's
product. The cooperation in this case takes the form
of exchange. All trade is a simple but indirect form of
cooperation.
Cooperation becomes complex when the direct and in-
direct forms are combined, as they are in any undertak-
ing in which different individuals, engaged in creating the
same product or result, produce very different parts of it
or work in different ways. In a manufacturing establish-
ment, the cooperation is direct because all the operatives,
mechanics, foreman, superintendent, and other employes,
are engaged in producing the same sort of goods. It is
also indirect because some are working at one process
with one kind of machinery, others at a different process
with another kind of machinery ; and because some super-
intend or direct, while others are directed and merely fol-
low instructions. Any operation into which the principles
of subordination and of the division of labour enter is a
complex cooperation.
In the modern industrial world, these complex forms of
cooperation enter into further complications through their
relations with one another in the market. Great manu-
facturing businesses, themselves highly complex forms of
cooperation, are so many units in the vast system of com-
mercial exchange. In its entirety, therefore, the indus-
trial and commercial organization of modern society is a
cooperation which has become doubly and trebly complex
to a degree that can be fully understood only by the
advanced student of Political Economy.
And even this marvellously complicated system is itself
Cooperation 85
only a unit in that greater cooperation o{. industrial with
political, religious, educational, and pleasurable enter-
prises, which, together, make up the entire activity of
modern communities.
The extension of cooperation from its simple beginnings
to these complicated higher forms obviously depends upon
an extension of genuine like-mindedness throughout the
population and a corresponding expansion of the con-
sciousness of kind.
In the higher forms of cooperation each individual is
working for and with others who may be widely removed
from him in space and even in time. The merchant who
purchases supplies in Asia, South America, or Europe to
sell in Nebraska or California assumes the risks of his
undertaking only because he knows the wants, the capaci-
ties, the habits of thought, and the reputation for honesty,
of persons separated from one another by thousands of
miles in space and whom he has never personally seen.
Only the civilized man can do this thing, because the sav-
age or the barbarian is incapable of understanding or even
of believing that men beyond his own range of personal
acquaintance are sufficiently like himself in needs, in abili-
ties, and in character, to make cooperation with them a
possible success. In like manner, the capitalist who in-
vests large sums in a new and untried venture builds
upon an assumption that there are thousands of human
beings in the world who are so much alike in their mental
and moral organization that they all will become pur-
chasers of the highly special product which he proposes
to put upon the market, and upon the further assumption
that human nature will continue to be in the future so
nearly what it has been in the past, that he can count
86 The Elements of Sociology
upon the continuing cooperation of those who are to sup-
ply his materials and distribute his product.
The particular elements of like-mindedness that are
most essential to the higher forms of cooperation are
those which enter into what we call good faith ; and a
common belief throughout the community in the general
good faith of the individuals composing society is the par-
ticular form of the consciousness of kind that also is
essential. Although we have laws for the collection of
debts and the enforcement of contracts, a majority of
business transactions are really based upon good faith and
good repute and nothing more. This is strikingly exem-
plified in the enormous volume of transactions constituting
what, in the United States, is known as interstate com-
merce. Although attempts have been made for more
than a generation to secure from Congress a national
bankruptcy law, they have only recently been successful,
and there is not yet any uniform law governing the col-
lection of debts. Notwithstanding the uncertainty and
the costliness therefore attending legal actions for the col-
lection of disputed bills beyond the boundaries of the state
in which the creditor resides, the distribution of goods
from every state into every other state goes on as freely
as if the legal machinery were of the most perfect de-
scription. Every transaction is really based upon the
good faith and reputed credit of the interested parties.
This, in its turn, is only a mode of the consciousness of
kind and of the underlying like-mindedness which is the
basis of cooperation of every sort.
Thus the study of cooperation at every point brings us
back to the great fundamental truths of Sociology. The
like-mindedness which is the essential social fact neces-
Cooperation Sy
sarily tends to establish and to perfect cooperation. All
cooperation depends upon like-mindedness. All the higher
and complicated modes of cooperation depend upon the
extension of like-mindedness and the expansion of the
consciousness of kind.
PARALLEL STUDY
Using the "Compendium of the Eleventh Census," prepare an analyti-
cal table showing the principal forms of cooperation in the United States.
I
CHAPTER VIII
Social Pleasure
Forms of Social Pleasure. — We have seen that coopera-
tion, important as it is in human society, is not the funda-
mental or the most general social fact. Cooperation could
not come into existence unless men were already, to a
great degree, social.
We have now to notice that cooperation falls short of
being completely coextensive with social activity in an-
other way also. When cooperation has been established,
association is not, by any means, complete. The pleas-
ures that companionship and cooperation yield have still
to be perfected. Not until the pleasure of association has
become so great and habitual that the temptation to purely
selfish individual gratification would have to be very strong
to overcome the counter attraction of social excitement, is
socialization far advanced.
Human beings living together in local proximity do not
have to invent social pleasure ; but they soon acquire the
habit of spending much time and thought in inventing
and perfecting pleasurable forms of social intercourse.
In every community a large proportion of time is
spent in the various forms of social pleasure that have
no other foreseen utility than the immediate enjoyment
which they afford. Their object is not to make any-
body richer, or more law-abiding, or more religious, but
88
Social Pleasure 89
solely to make as many persons as possible happy for the
time being ; and those who participate in them have long
since discovered that, of all means of happiness, the social
pleasures are the most tempting and exhilarating.
Already it has been shown that recognized like-minded-
ness or the consciousness of kind is itself a pleasurable
state of mind. Sympathy, affection, agreement in taste
and in opinion, are in themselves so gratifying that no one
thinks of asking of what use they are. They are their
own reward.
The pleasure that they afford, however, is only the be-
ginning of social enjoyment, and the source of other spe-
cialized and developed means of social pleasure.
In the chapter on "How Aggregations of People are
Formed," mention was made of the various modes in which
the energies of a population are expended. One way, it
was shown, is that of getting a living; another way is
reproduction; and a third is wandering and migration.
Whenever a population has become socially organized
and, by means of cooperation, has economized its expendi-
ture of energy in getting a living so that, with a given
effort, a relatively abundant subsistence is obtained, it finds
itself with a surplus of energy to dispose of in new ways.
Much of this surplus is soon devoted to amusement, or
other purely pleasurable activity.
This is only the occurrence on a large scale of what
occurs on a small scale in the life of every individual, and
of the lower animals as well as men. When the imme-
diate needs of the body are abundantly supplied for the
time being, all living creatures use whatever surplus of
energy remains in the exuberant activities of play. This
expenditure, of course, is chiefly found among the young.
90 The Elements of Sociology
There is no more instructive observation than that which
notes the ceaseless and beautiful play of young birds and
animals. One can readily see that the incessant play of
the young in animal societies is a chief means of develop-
ing the social instincts.
In human society the playtime of childhood serves a
similar purpose. It is on the playground that boys and
girls learn most of the lessons of toleration, sympathy,
cooperation, and knowledge of human nature, and have
those experiences of the pleasure of association that, in
after life, make them both appreciative of the value of
society and able to contribute to its defence or perfection.
The simplest forms of social pleasure cultivated by
young persons, as by animals and by savages, are to a
great extent imitations of the more serious activities of
life engaged in by adults. A great part of all play con-
sists in mimic work or mimic war. Work and war have
been the serious business of all animal species and of all
human beings since their life upon this planet began. To
get enough to eat, and to maintain life in the face of ene-
mies, have been at all times the chief concern of intelli-
gent creatures. In every part of the world, the play of
young animals and the play of children consists largely
of mimic combats in which agility, strength, skill, cun-
ning, and daring have been developed and, by their exer-
cise, have afforded keen enjoyment to the contestants and
to spectators.
All this is true also of social pleasures that have become
somewhat more formal in character. Dancing is a good
illustration. The forms of the dance, if they are carefully
studied, are found to be derived from the serious business
of life. The march, for example, describes itself as of
Social Pleasure 9 1
such origin. Some of the less simple forms have been
derived from imitations of the chase, and from imitations
of animal movements of interest to the hunter. Among
savage men dances are usually severe in form as com-
pared with those of civilized people. This is because,
to a certain extent, they are religious in character;
and when the student of Sociology has continued his
studies sufficiently to investigate the origin of the sacred
dances of uncivilized peoples, he will discover that they
are connected with forms of animal worship. They imi-
tate the running, leaping, flying, and other spontaneous
movements of the animal species that are worshipped and
mimicked. From these origins, by a very slow evolution,
have been derived the graceful movements of modern
waltzes, polkas, and other dance forms.
Another form of social pleasure among adult human
beings is the common meal which, in its statelier forms,
becomes the banquet. That the common meal should
develop into a universally appreciated form of social
pleasure is a most natural occurrence. It brings together
those who have become weary in the labour of obtaining
and preparing the food supply, whether by the primitive
mode of hunting and fishing, by the toil of the farmer,
or by the effort and thought of the business man. The
common meal is the satisfaction for which the effort has
been put forth; and. it affords occasion to combine with
the gratification of bodily appetite the pleasures of dis-
cussion, of story-telling, and of wit.
From the primary social pleasures above described have
been derived social pleasures of a secondary order which
I are developed through the cultivation of various forms
L" —
92 The Elements of Sociology
grown our philosophy and our law. From the story-tell-
ing of such occasions have been derived our higher forms
of literature — the epic, the historical narrative, and the
novel. From the primitive dance, with its mimicry and
its choral song, have come our drama, our lyric poetry,
and our music. The pleasures that we derive from all
these creations of the mind are social. Even when we
enjoy them in solitude we are in imagination living with
our fellow-men ; participating with them in conflict, shar-
ing in their loves and their hatreds, sympathizing with
them in suffering, and rejoicing with them in success.
The Function of Social Pleasure. — Social pleasures are
so easily abused that it is not strange that in all ages large
numbers of sincere men and women have called them evil,
and have sought to diminish their power over the people.
In the excitement of social pleasure, work and duty may
be forgotten, and the strength of character which is main-
tained by self-denying struggle may be lost. Nations that
have surrendered themselves unreservedly to pleasure have
become effeminate, cruel, and corrupt. No one can read
of the moral abasement of the Roman people as, year by
year, they gave themselves over to the enjoyment of the
brutal contests of 'the arena and to the luxuries of their
thermae, without feeling that ascetics have had reason
for their hostility to any public recognition or systematic
cultivation of pleasure.
Nevertheless, nothing is more unscientific than to con-
found the effects of excess and abuse with those of normal
use. The anchorite of the Middle Ages, who cut himself
off from association with his fellow-men and deprived him-
self of every enjoyment, was not less a moral monstrosity
than the sybarite of earlier days.
Social Pleasure 93
Therefore, while no community can afford to forget that
the cultivation of social pleasure at the exf^ense of sturdier
social activities is a fatal error, it can no more afford to
forget that social pleasure, under rational control, is the
original motive of social development. We might as well
expect the mechanism of our industrial establishments, of
our railways, and of our steamships to move without steam
and electricity, as to expect society to maintain its normal
activities without social pleasure.
The task of the social reformer is to contribute all that
he can to the further refinement of social pleasure, to the
elimination of modes of pleasure that are too coarse or too
brutal to be longer tolerated among civilized human beings,
and to perfect a rational control of the conditions under
which social pleasures are enjoyed. He should remember,
moreover, that true social pleasure is essentially unselfish.
Those who participate in it should never forget that its
perfect development demands of them solicitude for the
happiness of their companions. Those who look upon
social pleasure from this point of view are in little danger
of carrying their own enjoyment to excess or of cultivating
it by unworthy means.
One of the most imperative duties of philanthropic men
and women at the present time is that of improving the
social pleasures of the neglected poor. Nothing would so
greatly contribute to the moral uplifting and the political
regeneration of our great cities as a development of true
social pleasures among those who now seek relief from
weariness and trouble in indulgences that merely drag
them down to lower depths of misery and degradation.
Perhaps no one subject in Sociology is, from the practical
point of view, deserving of more painstaking study than
94 The Elements of Sociology
this of the kinds and degrees of social pleasure that are
necessary to the well-being of communities.
PARALLEL STUDY
Make an analytical and classificatory table of the prevailing social
pleasures in a familiar local community. From Lecky's " History of
European Morals " prepare a sketch showing the improvement in the
character of social pleasures since the beginning of the Christian Era.
CHAPTER IX
The Social Nature
Origins of the Social Nature. — From time to time, in the
foregoing chapters, allusion has been made to mental and
moral changes that occur in the individual as a conse-
quence of his association with fellow-beings. We must
now examine these changes in somewhat greater detail
and discover how, in course of time, they develop in man
a social nature.
There was a time when the human mind was studied as
if it were an independent thing. The various states of
mind were analyzed and classified. No one thought
of asking whether they had been produced by the inter-
play of the mind with other minds and with physical
nature. In short, the mind was studied as if it had either
existed from all time without change, or had instantly
come into existence complete and fully prepared for the
experiences of life.
Psychologists no longer think of the mind in any such
way, or study it in any such imperfect manner. They
now inquire how the mind develops from those simpler
states of consciousness which are mere sensations until \/
it becomes capable of engaging in long and complicated
reasoning processes, of forming judgments on difficult
questions, and of experiencing such complex emotions as
95
g6 The Elements of Sociology
are awakened by one of Shakespeare's tragedies, or Bee-
thoven's symphonies, or Wagner's operas.
In studying the mind from this evolutionary or genetic
point of view, it is discovered that in almost every experi-
ence and in every stage of growth, the social intercourse
of an individual with his fellow-beings is one of the chief
influences at work upon his own processes of thought,
affection, and will.
Intellectual Development. — In the chapter on " The
Practical Activities of Socii " we have seen how, in the
earliest years of a child's life, he learns to think of himself
in terms of his observations of companions, and to think
of them and of inanimate things also in terms of himself.
In the same chapter and subsequently, we have further
seen how important a fact imitation is, and how important
also are impression, suggestion, sympathy, and affection.
We therefore need not linger here to reconsider the mental
and moral results of association that take the form of these
mental states. We may rather give attention to some of
the more complex and later developed results of associa-
tion, which make the individual more and more fit for his
place in a social group.
Among the higher intellectual powers, without which
there could be no such cooperation as one sees in modern
civilized communities, no such organization of industry, law,
and government, may be named the powers of persistent
attention, generalization, and abstract reasoning. All sci-
ence and philosophy are made possible by these attain-
ments, and all the higher arts of civilization are made
possible by science.
Each of these mental attainments, however, is due
chiefly to the association of the individual thinker with his
The Social Nature 97
fellow-men. Children and savages are n€>toriously lacking
in the power of sustained attention. Their minds easily
wander from one subject to another. This is partly due
to mere immaturity, and partly to a certain lack of vigour of
the brain to sustain hard work. Power of attention is ac-
quired through those experiences of association which fix
attention for long periods together upon the same fact,
such as an interesting event, a common danger, or an
exciting strife. These experiences gradually strengthen
attention until it can be sustained under less stimulating
circumstances also.
One of the chief means by which the attention of chil-
dren is disciplined is that developed kind of play which
we call a game. Any organized game requires for its
successful practice perfect and prolonged attention to all
its rules and details. Baseball, football, and rowing con-
tests are among the best examples from out-of-door sports,
while checkers, chess, and billiards are equally good exam-
ples among indoor games. These, however, represent
rather highly developed products of social amusement. A
much earlier means of strengthening attention, both with
children and among uncivilized men, is story-telling. The
story is, in fact, the earliest means of fixing the attention
of the child for any considerable number of minutes to-
gether.
The power of abstract thought, including generalization
and reasoning, presupposes a perception of uniformity.
This sort of perception grows out of the habit of noticing
■ resemblances. In a certain sense, all uniformities are re-
■ semblances. When, for example, the scientific man says
■ that hundreds of different species of animals may be put
K in one great class together, as vertebrates, and that all
L "
J
98 The Elements of Sociology
vetebrates show certain uniformities in their mode of life,
especially in their locomotion, he is simply putting into
the most general possible expression the results of many
thousands of observations of the resemblances of these
different species to one another.
Such accumulations of the observations of resemblance
and of difference cannot be made by any one man. They
are made by thousands of men who communicate their
observations to one another, and so make them the com-
mon property of all scientific observers. Moreover, they
are continued through successive generations, each of
which inherits the observations made by the preceding
generations and transmits them to the generations that
follow. Generalization, then, and the abstract thought of
science, are possible only in society. They depend upon
the influence of one mind upon another, upon communica-
tion and cooperation.
Not only is this true, but also the scientific habit of
mind itself, the love of scientific occupation, is produced
chiefly by the influence of one mind upon another ; it is
produced by example, by suggestion, by direct teaching,
by sympathy, and by the love of approbation. Probably
every man who has ever become distinguished through his
intellectual attainments has been stimulated to his best
endeavours by his knowledge of what other men before him
have accomplished, and by his desire to equip himself as
well as the best of them have done, and perhaps to discover
new truths that they failed to perceive.
Finally, what we call originality of thought is also a
product of social relations. Original thought is possible
only when one's beliefs admit of modification. If all of
us were satisfied with the theories of the world and of
The Social Nature
99
man that were taught to us by our elders, we should
never give to the world any new truth. How, then, are
the beliefs that we have received, from time to time modi-
fied ? The answer is, by those new and varied experi-
ences which afford us new points of view and discoveries
of fact not before known by mankind. But these varied
experiences, in their turn, we owe chiefly to association
with our fellow-men. The continual movement of popu-
lation in emigration, in travel, in exploration, colonization,
war, and conquest, are the means by which the mental
horizon of humanity is widened, by which old beliefs are
subjected to new criticism, and new beliefs are established
as a result of fuller experience.
The Practical Judgment. — One intellectual product of
social relations must be more particularly noticed. This is
the practical judgment. As a result of their common ex-
periences, men who live together in social groups, and in
continual communication with one another, arrive at like
judgments upon the important practical affairs of every-
day life. How a man should conduct himself with refer-
ence to his probable success in earning a living, what
branches of knowledge he should endeavour to master, how
he should treat his fellow-men in daily intercourse, how he
should think about his country, its laws and government, —
all these things are subjected to a judgment, in the ver-
dicts of which a great majority of men are substantially
agreed. It is a sort of judgment which fits the individual^
for life in society. If, on the whole, his opinions of these
practical affairs are in agreement with those of his fellow-
men, and with the results of the common experience of
those who compose the social group, they say that he is a
man of good or sound judgment. If, on the contrary, his
100 The Elements of Sociology
views are very unlike those of men in general, he at once
becomes an object of curiosity or of suspicion. If, for any
reason, the community suspects that his notions are su-
perior to those of the average man, he is regarded with a
certain degree of respect or even veneration. This, how-
ever, cannot happen unless, from time to time, his novel
opinions turn out to be right, as demonstrated by some
practical test. In the long run, experience is accepted by
communities as the test of good judgment. If the individ-
ual's judgments, differing from those of the average man,
prove in experience to be bad, that is, if they often
bring him and others into needless trouble or ridicule,
he is regarded as a crank or dangerous person, more or
less unfit for cooperation with his fellow-men in any prac-
tical matter.
/ I Association, then, moulds the nature of individuals,
making them more tolerant, sympathetic, and friendly, as
was explained in preceding chapters ; more thoughtful,
intelligent, and judicious, as has been explained in the
foregoing paragraphs. In their totality, these changes
develop a social nature; that is, a nature fit for life in
social relations.
Qualities of the Social Nature. — We will, therefore, in
concluding this chapter, bring together in one view the
qualities which association develops, and which together
constitute the social nature.
The true social nature is susceptible to suggestion and
imitative, and thereby capable of learning from fellow-
beings. This capacity is sufficient to make the social
individual desirous to live at least as well as the fairly suc-
cessful members of his community. He desires to enjoy
what others enjoy, to do what others do, and to act as
The EocicipNdtiir/ \ loi
others act. It is true that the man who ha^ no other capac
ity would be Httle better than a machine. He would be
of little more account than a puppet in a punch-and-judy
show. Nevertheless, unless to a great extent he is like
his fellows, desiring what they desire, and doing what they
do, society and practical cooperation of any kind are alto-
gether impossible.
Yet, since human beings living in society are not mere
punch-and-judy puppets, the social nature is to some ^
extent originative. It not only learns from others ; it-
^^also teaches others. It makes new combinations of imita-
tions7~it-makes inventions in the sphere of thought and
conduct, and sets new examples. This it is.^£na]il£d-to-t!o'
because, by varied contact with many phases of life made
possible by wide association, it enjoys many different
experiences which inevitably combine in peculiar ways and
with peculiar results in the life of each separate individual.
The social nature is tolerant. It has learned through '))
social experience that the primary conflict can successfully
be waged only against those inferior creatures that can
be utilized by man as a food supply, and against those
persistently unlike and antagonistic members of his own
race who choose to remain hostile to the social organiza-
tion to which he belongs. So far as the members of his
own social group are concerned, he realizes their likeness
to himself and their equality with him in many important
respects. He has learned to give them the same opportu-
nities, immunities, and enjoyments that he claims for
himself ; and he has not only decided as a matter of judg-
ment that this is wise, but he has also learned to feel as an
experience of his emotional nature that it is desirable and
agreeable. The social nature, however, is not merely tol-
102 •'•'■'■ lj£eyR'le^ntji^§^\ojo<S,q<:iology
erant in the negative sense of being non-aggressive ; it is
positively sympathetic, companionable, and helpful. It
enjoys comradeship, communication, social pleasure, and
cooperation. It would be unhappy in isolation, and dis-
satisfied if at work in an absolutely individual way without
relation to the industry and patriotism of other men.
Finally, the social nature is judicious. It is satisfied
that, on the whole, the average judgments of mankind
are justified by experience. It cannot, to be sure, be
perfectly satisfied with any judgment, much less with
all judgments. It is at all times ready to criticise, to
direct, or to devise; but this it does in no cranky, captious,
or quixotic way. It assumes that, for the purposes of
social unity and cooperation, men must respect one an-
other's judgments ; and that new beliefs can be made
practically available only as large numbers of men are
converted to them. The individual, protesting alone
against the opinions of his fellow-members of society, may
possibly be right, and they may possibly be wrong ; but
not until they are convinced of error can he wisely and
rightly undertake to put his views into practical operation.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Spencer's "Principles of Psychology," Volume II, Part VIII,
or Baldwin's " Mental Development," " Social and Ethical Interpreta-
tions," Part III.
CHAPTER X
The Classes of Socii
Inequality. — From what has been said about the effect
of associatiofl-mjnodifying the mental and moral natures
of individuals it is not to be inferred that the effect is the
same in all cases, or that the social nature is equally de-
veloped in all members of the community.
There are many reasons for the differences and ine-
qualities noticeable among the effects of association. Not
all men associate habitually with the same individuals, or
associate with any individuals in the same degree. More-
over, as we already know, while associating individuals
at the outset have many points of resemblance, they pre-
sent also many points of difference. They start with
unequal bodily powers, the results of widely different con-
ditions of heredity, and with yet more unequal intellectual
and moral qualities.
Always undergoing changes in its own character and
degree with changing circumstances, association combines
with the original inequalities of men to produce further
differences. By no possibility can it happen that all can
share so equally in the benefits of economic association
that all shall obtain equally good nourishment. Even if
a socialistic communism were established, and a sincere
attempt to distribute wealth equally among all were in
good faith carried out as far as possible, equality of nutri-
103
104 "^^^ Elements of Sociology
tion could not in fact be maintained. It would happen that
some supplies of grain, meat, and fruit would be better
than others; that some would be better preserved than
others ; that the sanitary condition of some houses and
streets, notwithstanding the attempt to make them all
alike, would in fact, on account of greater difficulties to
be overcome, be always inferior to others ; and that these
differences, combined with differences of bodily constitu-
tion at birth, would make great differences of vitality in
adult life, just as they do now.
In like manner, no attempt to distribute equally the
mental benefits of association through free education, free
libraries, museums, and schools of art can perfectly suc-
ceed. Some teachers are better than others, and their
pupils gain an advantage over pupils that are badly in-
structed. Some readers, from their earliest days, fall in
with good books and good advice, and store their minds
with useful knowledge and their imaginations with forms
of beauty ; while others have the ill fortune to acquire
early a taste for reading that only depraves.
Consequently it happens that inequality in physical,
mental, and moral power, and varieties of disposition, are
always to be discovered in a social population.
Even among these differences, however, resewwlances
may be noticed; and they may therefore be grouped in
classes or kinds. This, of course, means that the mei^
bers of a social population, among whom the differences
mentioned are found, may themselves be grouped by the
student into classes or kinds of socii. That is to say, a
social population is always differentiated into classes. We
shall call them population classes, or classes of socii.
There are three fundamental or primary orders of pop-
The Classes of Socii 105
ulation classes. They are, namely : vitality classes, per-
sonality classes, and social classes. Other classes, often
spoken of in economic and political discussion, are :
political classes, industrial classes, and economic classes.
Thus, for example, works on history abound in such dis-
tinctions as ruling classes and subject classes, aristocratic
classes and democratic classes. These are political dis-
tinctions. A^in, in works on Political Economy and in
newspaper and ma^^azine articles, we meet with such dis-
tinctions as the employing classes and the working classes.
These are industrial distinctions. Yet again, we contin-
ually hear of the rich classes and the poor classes. These
are economic distinctions. Now all these classes, namely,
the political, the industrial, and the economic, are sec-
ondary, and not to be confounded with the primary classes
of socii. Secondary population classes are highly special
products of advanced social evolution. There are many
social groups in the world in which there are no political
distinctions, no industrial distinctions, and hardly any eco-
nomic differences. But there is no community, large or
small, in which the vitality, personality, and social classes
are not to be found. This is a truth worthy of serious
consideration because, through ignoring it, much confu-
sion !fc.s been introduced into statistical investigation,
and into a great many economic and sociological dis-
cussions. --^
The Vitality Classes are the simplest and most immedi- CLi^
ate direct results of association. There are three vitality
classes, which may be designated as the high, the me-
dium, and the low.
The High Vitality Class is composed of those individ- '^
uals who have a high birth rate, a low death rate, and
^^
1 06 The Elements of Sociology
I
a high degree of bodily vigour and mental powex. The
birth rate is the number of births yearly in each thou-
sand of the population. The death rate is the number of
deaths yearly in each thousand of the population. It is
obvious that a population which has not only great indi-
vidual vigour of body and mind, but also a high degree of
reproductive power and a low death rate, so that it in-
creases rapidly from generation to generation, has, on the
whole, a high degree of vitality. Consequently, that por-
tion of a population, in which this high vitality is most
conspicuously found, may very properly be called the high
vitality class.
The Medium Vitality Class is composed of those indi-
viduals in the population who have a fair degree of bodily
vigour, an unusually high degree of mental vigour — the
result of an especially fine development of the brain and
nervous system, a rather low death rate, and a low birth
rate. These individuals, while their nervous energy is
great and their death rate low, have, on account of their
low birth rate and only fair bodily vigour, a somewhat lower
total vitality than that of the high vitality class.
The Low Vitality Class is composed of those individuals
in the population who, while they may and usually do have
a high birth rate, have also an extraordinarily high death
rate, a low, degree of bodily vigour, and only a low degree
of mental power. This class, notwithstanding its high
birth rate, is evidently lower in total vitality than either
of the other two classes.
Distribution. — Of course the student will wish to know
where these three classes are found. Do they correspond
to any particular geographical sections of the population,
or to occupation, or to economic condition ?
The Classes of Socii 107
The first vitality class roughly corresponds to the better
sort dLlarmers — that part of the rural population which
is well-to-do, and both owns and tills the land that it oc-
cupies. It is this population that chiefly maintains the
physical vigour and insures the growth of the community.
It is this population that is continually sending vigorous,
energetic, and brainy men to the towns and cities to en-
gage there in business oCctrpatioTis^nd the learned profes-
sions. The high vitality class includes also large numbers
of individuals living in towns and cities, and engaged in
business or professional life, or employed as mechanics or
even as labourers. But all these together make up only a
minority of the high vitality class. The great bulk of the
class is found in the rural and land-owning part of the
population.
The second vitality class corresponds in the same rough
way to the business and professional men of the large
towns and great cities. These men are continually en-
gaged in exhausting brain activity, and, as a rule, their
families increase slowly, notwithstanding their loW death
rate, which is kept down by intelligent attention to sani-
tary conditions and to hygienic living.
The third vitality class roughly corresponds to the igno-
rant and uncleanly part of the slum population of the
cities, and to the equally ignorant and uncleanly, shiftless,
and thriftless part of the rural population. Every one
acquainted with country life knows, within the circle of
his own observation, numerous ne'er-do-well families that
belong to this class and description.
That these three classes are results of association, the
student should have no difficulty in understanding if he
has mastered the earlier chapters of this book. Associa-
O^
&
io8 T/ie Elements of Sociology
tion is the chief condition determining the habits of life
of the individuals composing a population, determining
the marriages they make, and therefore the sort of inheri-
tance that their children start with upon the life struggle,
and determining the circumstances of each individual ca-
reer. Together these influences, in the long run, deter-
mine for each individual his degree of vitality.
The Personality Classes, like the vitality classes, are cre-
ated by those varied combinations of inheritance and of
circumstance that are determined by association.
There are three personality classes; namely, first, the
geniuses and men and women of talent ; second, the indi-
viduals of normal intellectual and moral power ; and, third,
; the defective.
^ 1 The Inventive. — The first class is relatively small in
numbers. Its distinctive characteristic is inventive power.
The great majority of human beings imitate far more than
they invent; but here and there appears the individual
whose whole life is occupied in devising new combinations
of ideas and methods that prove to be of the utmost value
to his fellow-men. We have seen that invention includes
much more than the creation of new mechanical products,
like the steam engine, or the spinning frame, or the elec-
tric dynamo. It includes every new and useful device in
business methods, in social organization, in law, in diplo-
macy, in military strategy, and every new and beautiful
product in art, music, and literature. Consequently, not
only all mechanical inventors, but all business men, pro-
fessional men, and statesmen who have the gift of origi-
nality and can devise new and better ways of doing those
things in which they are interested, belong to this person-
ality class of the men of genius and talent.
The Classes of Socii 109
The Imitative. — The class of the ijormally endowed ^
is by far the largest of the personality classes. It in-
cludes all those men and women who are, on the whole,
imitative rather than inventive, but who are by no means
wholly devoid of the inventive faculty. The important
characteristic of this class, however, is mental and moral
soundness. While its members are in no way remarkable,
they are in no way defective. Their judgment is good;
they have no foolish delusions ; they understand and can
appreciate the enormous advantage of being directed or
guided in the practical affairs of life by the advice of the
men of talent and genius ; but they accept this advice in
an independent, self-respecting way, and always are ca-
pable of making up their own minds upon any question
that directly concerns themselves.
The Defective. — The third personality class includes -'
all who are in any way defective in mind or body. Among
them are not only the insane, the imbecile, and suicidal,
but also the inebriate, the deaf and dumb, the blind and
crippled. These unfortunates require the kindly help of
the other two personality classes. _, ,
The Social Classes. — The vitality and personality classes ■ -^ '
are created by the reactions of society upon its individual
members in their capacity as individuals. Merely as indi-
viduals they become more or less vigorous, more or less
intellectual, under the continuing influence of association.
The social classes now to be described are created by the
reactions of society upon its individual members in their
capacity as socii. Association develops their social nature
more or less. It more or less fits them to be satisfactory
and useful members of the community. Some individuals
it moulds into a perfect adaptation to social life ; others it
no The Elements of Sociology
modifies in a less degree. Again, as we have seen, sol:ial
pressure and that selective process of acquaintanceship,
whereby each socius chooses his companions, affect differ-
ent natures in quite different ways. On the whole, normally
organized individuals react upon social influences in a per-
fectly healthy manner, so that they become more and more
social. Many defectives react morbidly, until they become
wholly unfit for social life, and even antagonistic to it.
Obviously, these different reactions produce in the popula-
tion not only differences of personality, but also differences
of sociality or of social nature.
The social classes that result are four in number;
namely, the social, the non-social, the psuedo-social, and
the anti-social.
(^ \ The Social Class is composed of those in whom the
social nature is highly developed. Their distinguishing
characteristic is a consciousness of kind that is wide in
its scope and strong in its intensity. They are sympa-
thetic, friendly, helpful, and always interested in endeav-
ours to perfect social relations, to develop the methods of
cooperation, to add to the happiness of mankind by im-
proving the forms of social pleasure, to preserve and
defend the great social institutions of the family and the
state. To this class the entire population turns for help,
inspiration, and leadership, for unselfish loyalty, and wise
enterprise. It includes all who in the true sense of the
word are philanthropic, all whose self-sacrifice is directed
by sound judgment, all true reformers whose zeal is
tempered by common sense and sober patience, and ali
those who give expression to the ideals and aspirations of
the community for a larger and better life. It is a gifted
and originative portion of this class that constitutes a
The Classes of Socii in
true natural aristocracy among men, and to which alone
that name can be applied when artificial political distinc-
tions have been abolished.
The^No7i-s octal Class is composed of those in whom the ^^■
social nature is not fully developed. Their disposition is
to cling to a narrow and sometiiite^ selfish individualism.
They are by no means destitute of sympathy, of compre-
hension of others, or of the desire for recognition ; but
their consciousness of kind, while normal and sound as far
as it goes, is not wide or strong. They pride themselves ^
upon their independence and their habit of minding their
own business. They are disinclined to accept favours, and
not much inclined to give them. Their preference is to be
let alone. This is the primordial social class. From it
the other three social classes are directly or indirectly
derived. The non-social class contains in germ all social
virtue, all anti-social vice and crime. It is simply neutral,
waiting to be reached and impelled upwards or downwards
by the resistless currents of social life.
The PseiLdo-social Class is composed of congenital and '-
habitual paupers. Their consciousness of kind is degen- <^
erate. They simulate the qualities of the social and pose
as victims of misfortune. In ««e^ity, they have not even
the virtues of the non-social. They desire only to live as
parasites. Among those whom the law classes as paupers,
however, there are always some true victims of misfortune
who, therefore, do not belong to the pseudo-social class.
The Anti-social Class is composed of i nstin ctive and
habitual crimi^^|||^liv whom the consciousness of kind is
approaching extinctiett, and who detest society and all its
ways. They make no pretence of social virtues and prefer
to live by open aggression upon the social. They do not
112 The Elements of Sociology
desire the cooperation of the social in maintaining their
rights or interests, and prefer to avenge personally any
real or fancied wrongs that they suffer. Among those who
are by law classed as criminals, there are many who have
not become altogether anti-social and who could be saved
from the anti-social class.
Criminal and Pauper Aggregation. — There is an impor-
tant relation between the development of the pauper and
the criminal classes and the growth of wealth in the com-
munity which must be carefully studied by those who wish
to master this subject. It will be remembered that the
original aggregation of population occurs where natural
sources of food supply are most abundant and productive.
Later on, aggregation occurs where the secondary sources
of subsistence are found ; that is, in manufacturing towns
and commercial cities.
Criminal and pauper aggregation occurs where this arti-
ficial food supply, this secondary source of subsistence, is
accumulated. Great cities always have more criminals and
paupers in proportion to their total population than the
poorer parts of the commonwealth. This is because, in
the centres of wealth, there is not only an abundance
of food and clothing upon which the worthless elements
of the community may subsist, but also a large number of
sympathetic people who are willing to give to all who ask,
without taking the trouble to inquire whether they are
deserving. The large towns and great cities thus become
centres of attraction to criminals and paupers.
PARALLEL STUDY
Using the "Compendium of the Eleventh Census," construct tables
showing the distribution of vitality, personality, and social classes in
the United States. Read Warner's " American Charities."
.CHAPTER XI
The Preeminent Social
The True Elite. — Among the classes into which a popu-
lation is distributed as described in the preceding chapter,
there is a great deal of overlapping. This is not true of
the classes belonging together in each order. The three
vitality classes do not overlap. A man who belongs to
one cannot belong to either of the other two. The same
is true of the personality classes and of the social classes.
But vitality classes do, to some extent, overlap with per-
sonality classes and with social classes ; and social classes
overlap, to some extent, with vitality and with personality
classes. The social class, for example, contains individ-
uals of all three vitality classes and of all three personality
classes. _
Try now to imagine that comparatively small part of a
population which is found in the social class and, at the
same time, in that highest personality class which is com-
posed of the men and women who are endowed with
genius or talent, and is found also in the first and second
vitality classes. We should all agree that this group of
individuals is remarkable and of enormous value to the
community. Men and women who have health, originality,
and that unselfish love of mankind which moves them to
devote their efforts to promoting the social welfare, cer-
tainly deserve to be recognized as, in the truest sense of
the word, superior to their fellow-beings.
I 113
114 '^^^ Elements of Sociology
This superior section of the social class is the most
efficient class in the community. Small as it is in num-
bers, it accomplishes the greater part of those undertak-
ings which, in their totality, we call progress. It gives to
society the new inventions, the improvements in law, in-
dustry, art, religion, and morals which make life richer in
its achievements and larger in its possibilities. It is this
class alone that deserves to be called an elite or an
aristocracy.
Of such importance, this superior and especially effi-
cient portion of the social class should receive somewhat
further description than has been devoted to it in the
preceding chapter.
The Distinguished Few. — It would be interesting if we
could know exactly how large is the efficient social class
in any given population. Unfortunately, no complete
statistics are available, though it would be by no means
impossible to obtain them with a sufficient expenditure of
time and money. We have, however, some indications,
and they show that the efficient social class is every-
where a very small one in proportion to the total popu-
lation.
The world agrees to regard as distinguished those men
and women who are of such intellectual ability and of
such developed sr "ial nature that they succeed in making
great contributions to human well-being. But the number
of those who, by general consent, are distinguished, is
surprisingly small. An Englishman of science. Sir Francis
Galton, who investigated this subject with great thorough-
ness by applying careful critical tests, found that in the
year 1868 there were in the British Isles 1250 well-known
men, 850 of whom were over fifty years of age. Of the
The Preeminent Social Class 115
latter, 500 could be called eminent. This*was 250 in each
million of that part of the population which was over fifty
years of age, and this number Galton regards as an ample
estimate of the usual proportion of distinguished men in
Great Britain. \-.^^_^^^_^/^
Didot's " Nouvelle Biographic Generale " contains about
100,000 separate articles, corresponding to as many names
deemed worthy of biographical immortality. The list goes
back to the days of Pericles of Greece. From the time of
Pericles until the publication of the "Biographic" — it
appeared 1850-1870 — about 45,000,000,000 of men had
lived on this planet. Accordingly, the proportion of dis-
tinguished men for the entire twenty-two centuries had
been one in 450,000 of the world's population. This num-
ber, however, as given in the Didot collection, includes
many kings and princes who would never have been dis-
tinguished but for the mere accident of hereditary posi-
tion. It is, therefore, probably no exaggeration to say
that nature and society produce about one genuinely
distinguished man or woman for every half a million who
live and die in obscurity.
In these startling figures there is a practical lesson of
the greatest importance. In nothing whatever can a
nation so ill afford to be wasteful as in her men and
women who combine genius with the- 'highly developed
social nature. What, then, shall we say of those govern-
ments that in times past have deliberately destroyed such
elements of the population by death, imprisonment, and
other forms of persecution, on account of differences in
religious or political belief. No nation in the world has
thus squandered its most precious riches as recklessly and
ruthlessly as Spain, whose long-continued Inquisition re-
Ii6 The Elements of Sociology
duced her to an intellectual poverty and moral degradation
unparalleled in human history.
That the efficient social class should be thus small in
numbers is not remarkable when one stops to consider
how much is necessary in the way of preliminary condi-
tions to its existence.
Not only must the individuals who belong to this class
have a high degree of intellectual power, which culminates
in inventive originality, but they must also have a rela-
tively enormous amount of knowledge; for, the reader
must remember, we are including in this preeminent social
class only those whose abilities are of the socially and
morally useful sort. The man whose genius benefits no
one but himself has no place in this list. But that a man
may do great things for his fellow-beings, he must under-
stand their wants, their joys and sorrows, their minds, their
moral natures. He must understand them, not only in
individual cases, but in so many cases that his knowledge,
like Shakespeare's comprehension of human nature, is
universal in its qualities. He must know the peculiarities
of races and nationalities, and the conditions under which
each has been developed. Moreover, he must know his-
tory at least to the extent of being familiar with all that
has been accomplished in his own particular field of
creative ability. The inventor who spends his time in
reinventing the devices that have long since found their
way into use may, indeed, have the spark of genius; but,
so far as his life is concerned, it has been enkindled to no
purpose.
Services of the Preeminent. — What, in some further de-
tail, are the services that the preeminent social class
renders to the community t Let us briefly recount them.
The Preeminent Social Class 117
The preeminent social class sets most* of the examples
and standards for mankind. As a general thing, human
beings do not imitate those whom they regard as inferior
to themselves. They rather look up to those who, to their
minds, are superior in intellect, moral character, and ex-
ecutive ability. Consequently, it is the preeminent social
class that makes most of the unwritten rules of conduct,
manners, and fashion. There are noteworthy exceptions.
It sometimes happens that a thoroughly bad man or
woman, or a mere freak or crank, starts a manner or a
fashion that for a time is in great vogue. But in the long
run the unwritten laws of society are made by the intellect-
ual, the moral, and the social elements of the population.
The preeminent social class does most of the original
thinking for society. Science and philosophy, political
economy and statesmanship, have thousands of devotees
who are in no way distinguished; and now and then an
important truth is discovered or set forth in clearer light
by some humble student whose intellectual grasp is not
remarkable. But, if we take into consideration the entire
history of the intellectual life of the human race, we
clearly see that most great truths have been discovered
by great men, and that their application to human well-
being, in every sphere of practical activity, has been made
by men of only a lesser degree of intellectual power. The
preeminent social class does most of the leading, directing,
and organizing in human society. The average man has
little or no power to combine the efforts of scores or hun-
dreds of other men so that they shall work together with
the utmost efficiency and success. The gift of ability to
organize and to direct is really a very rare one ; and per-
haps there are actually fewer individuals in the world who
Ii8 The Elenie7tts of Sociology
have this gift in a supreme degree than there are of those
who can combine the forms of matter in new mechanical
inventions. It is harder to put humanity together in new
combinations that have the qualities of a smoothly run-
ning machine, than to put pieces of matter together in
machines of a simpler kind.
Finally, the preeminent social class contributes most of
the higher forms of beauty and the higher forms of happi-
ness to mankind. It is to this class, as has already been
said, that we owe poetry, art, and music. It is to this
class also that we owe those refinements of courtesy and
those gracious forms of social intercourse that make
smooth the rough places of life, and add to the spon-
taneous social pleasures, to which all can contribute, those
touches of grace and beauty that appeal to our higher
natures, and enable us to avoid the infliction of annoy-
ances that spring from awkwardness, inconsiderateness,
and the inability to put one's self in another's place.
PARALLEL STUDY
From the " Politics " prepare an analysis of Aristotle's conception
of aristocracy. Read Galton's " Hereditary Genius," Chapters I and
II, and William James's essay, "The Will to Believe": "Great Men
and their Environment."
CHAPTER XII
The Social Mind : Modes of Like-mindedness
Nature of the Social Mind. — Among the phrases most
commonly met with in discussions of social interests are
the terms "the moral sense of the community," "public
opinion," and "the public will." Such terms seem to
imply the existence of a mind or consciousness in society
which is to be distinguished from the mind of an indi-
vidual. Is there in reality any such social mind, or are
these terms mere figures of speech.? Is society a great
being, larger, more powerful, and more intelligent than
any of its individual members, or do we merely personify
it in a rhetorical sense, as we personify the sun when we
apply to it the pronoun " he," or the ship when we speak
of it as " she " ? ,
There is no reason to suppose that society is a great
being which is conscious of itself through some mysterious
process of thinking, separate and distinct from the thinking
that goes on in the brains of individual men. At any rate,
there is no possible way yet known to man of proving that •
there is any such supreme social consciousness.
Nevertheless, there is a group of facts of great interest
to the sociologist and to the man of affairs for which the
name "the social mind" can, with entire propriety and
with great convenience, be used. In preceding chapters
we have shown that the most essential fact in society is
119
120 The Elements of Sociology
like-mindedness, meaning by this term a close resemblance
between the ideas, emotions, and preferences of any given
individual and those of other individuals who live in the
same social group with him. It has been shown also that
such like-minded individuals usually discover their mental
and moral resemblances, think about them, take pleasure
in them, and turn them to good account in many useful
ways.
When, then, two or more individuals at the same mo-
ment are receiving like sensations, perceiving the same
relations, experiencing the same kind of emotion, thinking
the same thoughts, arriving in their judgments at the same
conclusion, — a state of facts exists in the population which
evidently must be classed among facts of mind, and yet
must be distinguished from the mental activity of an in-
dividual who, absolutely alone, completely cut off from
communication with his fellow-men, thinks solely about
himself and his immediate material surroundings. In the
one case there exists a concert of the emotions and thoughts
of two or more individuals ; in the other case, the thought
of the individual is peculiar to himself and his isolated
condition.
To the group of facts that may be described as the
simultaneous like-mental-activity of two or more individu-
als in communication with one another, or as a concert of
the emotion, thought, and will of two or more communi-
cating individuals, we give the name, the social mind.
This name, accordingly, should be regarded as meaning
just this group of facts and nothing more. It does not
mean that there is any other consciousness than that of
individual minds. It does mean that individual minds act
simultaneously in like ways and continually influence one
The Social Mind: Modes of Like-mindedness 121
another; and that certain mental producte result from such
combined mental action which could not result from the
thinking of an individual who had no communication with
fellow-beings.
Formation of the Social Mind. — The social mind, or the
simultaneous like-action of the minds of like socii, may-
be observed in simple forms, in forms that are somewhat
complex, and yet again in forms that are complex in a high
degree. To make the explanation of these various forms
as clear as possible, we will use the word "integration,"
to denote the combination of the mental activity of two or
more individuals in one common mental activity, or in pro-
ducing a common product of their combined thought. We
shall then speak of the integration of the mental activity
of two or more individuals as of different degrees and
stages.
In its Simplest Form^ the social mind is nothing more
or less than that simultaneous like-responsiveness of like
minds to the same stimulus which was described in Chapter
V. When two or more individuals receive similar sensa-
tions, or perceive the same object or event and react upon
it in like ways, there is an agreement or concert of their
mental processes than which no simpler mode of the social
mind is known. This is the first stage of the integration
of the mental processes of many individuals.
Relatively simple as it is, however, it is often an im-
portant, or indeed a very terrible, thing for the community.
Perhaps the most familiar example that can be called to
mind is the spontaneous applause of an audience when a
speaker unexpectedly touches the emotions of his hearers.
The most familiar example of the terrible form which this
integration of feeling and belief may assume is a panic in
\/
122 The Elements of Sociology
which all individuals, sharing the same terror, in the same
manner lose their senses and act with the same madness,
i/ The Reciprocal Consciousness of Kind. — A second stage
in the integration of the like feelings and beliefs of different
individuals appears with the emergence of a reciprocal con-
sciousness of kind. By a reciprocal consciousness of kind
is meant a consciousness of kind that exists at the same mo-
ment in each of the resembling individuals* Obviously, it
may happen that one of two or more resembling individuals
becomes aware of the resemblance before any other person
does. Such a consciousness of kind, limited to the thought
of a single individual, is not a mode of the social mind. But
when each of the resembling individuals becomes aware of
the resemblance, the consciousness of kind is reciprocal ;
and this is such an agreement or concert of the ideas and
feelings of two or more individuals as can properly be
called a mode of the social mind.
And this mode is obviously a more complicated one than
the mere simultaneous like-responsiveness to the same
stimulus, because, in combination with such responsiveness,
it includes a large number of other elements of perception,
thought, and emotion.
Emblem and Shibboleth. — A third stage of the integra-
tion of the like feelings and beliefs of different individuals
is produced by a combination of the simultaneous like-re-
sponsiveness to the same stimulus, and of the reciprocal
consciousness of kind, with a fixing of the attention of each
individual upon some object, word, phrase, or cry. Such
an object or word must, however, be a symbol or sign,
calling to mind a group of facts in which the mind is in-
terested. The national flag, for example, is a symbol
that calls to mind all the ideas and emotions of patriot-
The Social Mind : Modes of Like-minded^iess 123
ism. When, at the same moment, the attention of many
individuals is arrested by this symbol, as it is when the flag
is unfurled on some noteworthy occasion, it not only serves
as a stimulus to which the ideas, emotions, and conduct of
the men who behold it respond in like ways, and as a
means of awakening their consciousness of kind as they
think of their common country, their common history, and
their common hopes for the future, but it also starts yet
other modes of mental activity which greatly complicate
those already mentioned.
The process is this : the reciprocal consciousness of
kind, acting upon common possessions, interests, and ideas,
converts their images, symbols, and names into social em-
blems and shibboleths. Examples of emblems and shib-
boleths are armorial bearings, the flags and banners of
states, and such words or phrases as "family," "home,"
"class," "altars," "the gods," "the fathers," "country,"
"native land," "the king," "the army," " the party," "our
cause," "the right," "liberty," and "fraternity." Every-
body knows how any one of these words may, in a moment
of general excitement, arouse a crowd to furious enthu-
siasm and even to frenzy. What is the mysterious power
of a mere phrase, or of a mere piece of tinsel or coloured
silk, thus to awaken the passions of thousands of human
beings }
Such objects and names are not converted into emblems
and shibboleths, and do not acquire their power over the
human mind, merely by meaning the same things to many
individuals, or even by being thought of by many individu-
als at the same moment. They become emblems and shib-
boleths only when each individual is conscious that, at a
given moment, they mean to his associates what they mean
124 1*^^ Elements of Sociology
to him, and arouse in them the same emotions that they
arouse in him. They are emblems and shibboleths only
when they are products of a reciprocal consciousness of
kind.
■^ As such products, however, they powerfully react upon
the consciousness of kind itself. The emblem or shibbo-
leth not only calls the attention of an individual who sees
or hears it to the object or fact that it symbolizes, and
awakens in him certain feelings ; it also fixes his attention
upon the feelings that it arouses, and the conduct that
it incites in others. The emotions and conduct of others,
of which he is thus made aware, at once begin to act upon
himself as an influence that merges with the original
effect of the emblem or shibboleth. It intensifies or dimin-
ishes the initial power of the symbol over his mind, and
quickens or restrains his responsive action.
The Social Memory. — A fourth stage in the integration
of the like feelings and beliefs of different individuals is
produced by a combination of the three stages already
described with memories and records of the past. The
whole existing mass of knowledge in civilized communities
is such a mode of the social mind. So great over us is the
power of symbolism that, doubtless, many of us think of
knowledge as contained in books. Actually, nothing is
contained in books but the symbols of knowledge. The
knowledge itself exists only in human minds. The sym-
bols merely enable us to discover what has been in minds
other than our own.
Public Opinion. — The highest forms of the social mind
are those which are produced by the combination of the
rational thinking of one mind with that of another. Where
not only traditional beliefs and active sympathies, but also
The Social Mind : Modes of Like-mindedness 125
critical discrimination and philosophical judgments are
brought together in a common product, the result is the
highest creation of the human mind. No one individual,
by his unaided thinking, could establish, in all its details,
the complete scientific explanation of any process in nat-
ure, or work out a complete scheme of public policy for
the state. These things are achieved only through the
cooperation of many minds.
When critical, rational thought is combined with the im-
pressions and beliefs of the multitude, we call the product
public opinion.
Modes of the Social Mind. — These various stages of the
integration of the social mind fall naturally into three large
groups, which will be made the subject of further explana-
tion in the three following chapters.
The simultaneous responsiveness to like stimuli, the re-
ciprocal consciousness of kind, and the integration of emo-
tion and belief by means of symbols, together make up a
like-mii^dedness that may be called, from its predominant
element, sympathetic like-mindedness. Sympathetic like-'
mindedness, if uncontrolled by the reflective processes,
commonly results in impulsive social action. The next
chapter, therefore, will deal with sympathetic like-minded-
ness and with some of the facts and laws of impulsive
social action.
The effect of memory and habit is to create a like-
mindedness that is formal and conventional. When men
are subjected to the influence of the same belief?, and con-
form, year after year and generation after generation, to
an inherited usage, custom, or discipline, they acquire a
rigid, formal, or conventional likeness of mind and char-
acter. This mode of the social rn^nd may, therefore, be
126 The Elements of Sociology
called formal like-mindedness ; and one of the subjects
treated under this head is the body of traditions that
contain the great mass of human belief and precept
The agreement of thought that is produced by rational
reflection, and through the processes of discussion and the
creation of public opinion, and all those public decisions
that result from reflection and discussion, may together
yy be called rational like-mindedness. Rational like-minded-
ness is the highest mode of the social mind. The supreme
manifestation of rational like-mindedness is in an ethical
consciousness of society which combines critical moral
judgments with sympathetic emotions in a persistent eth-
ical purpose. We shall have more to say on this subject
in the chapter on Democracy.
Social Force and Control. — In each of these modes, the
social mind, like the individual mind, must be regarded by
the scientific investigator from two points of view. Merely
as facts of consciousness, sensation, emotion, and thought,
whether existing at a given moment in one iijdividual
mind or in many minds, cannot be thought of or argued
about in terms of our physical conceptions of energy or
force. Associated with these facts of consciousness, how-
ever, are, as we know, facts of nervous activity and mus-
cular movement. Therefore, it is legitimate to speak of
mental energy or of the force of an individual mind, mean-
ing thereby the transformations of energy and the physi-
cal changes in the external world that are brought about
through those activities of the nervous mechanism that
are associated with sensations, emotions, and thoughts.
In this sense the mind is a force ; and the social mind,
in all its phases or modes, is a social force, by which is
meant a force that originates in society or in social con-
The Social Mind : Modes of Like-rnindedness 127
ditions and reacts upon society or upon its individual
members.
In any stage of its development, the social mind, whether
it be merely the simultaneous like-responsiveness of two
or more individuals to the same stimulus, whether it be a
reciprocal consciousness of kind, or a rational public opin-
ion, if it is more than mere reflection and discharges itself
in action, is a power superior to any individual force. The
social mind in its active or energetic manifestation is often
spoken of as the social or public will.
The active manifestation of the social mind may or may
not be consciously intended. On the one hand, individuals
may, without any plan or intent in the matter, simultane-
ously act in the same ways, and such action may be a com-
pelling social force of tremendous power. On the other
hand, the display of energy may be deliberately planned
or intended. In other words, a social force may be an
intended social force.
An intended social force is always a reciprocal con-
sciousness of kind. An intent or purpose, simultaneously
held by two or more individuals, is a mode of resemblance.
A purpose that many individuals simultaneously form be-
comes a common purpose when each individual becomes
aware of its existence in all of his associates, and not
otherwise. This discovery by each is obviously a recip-
rocal consciousness of kind.
In the three following chapters, the social mind will be
observed from both points of view. It will be described
as a state of consciousness and also as a form of energy
— a social force or control.
Having regard to these two aspects of the social mind,
the aspect of consciousness and the aspect of activity, we
128 The Elements of Sociology
may now conclude this chapter with a definition, as fol-
lows :
The social mind is that sympathy and concurrent intelli-
y/ gence of the like-minded which results in common purposes
; and concerted acts, .
PARALLEL STUDY.
Read Lewes's " Problems of Life and Mind " : " The Study of Psy-
chology," Chapter IX ; or Vincent, " The Social Mind and Education,"
Chapter I ; or Novicow, " Conscience et Volontd Sociale."
CHAPTER XIII
Sympathetic Like-mindedness and Impulsive Social
Action
Origins of Impulsive Action. — We have seen that the
simplest combination of the feelings and ideas of a num-
ber of individuals is that which occurs sympathetically
and imitatively without the intervention of any process
of critical thinking. The panic of a terrified crowd was ,
mentioned as one of the lamentable forms that sympa-
thetic mental activity may assume.
That the like-mindedness which is purely sympathetic,
imitative, or emotional should be impulsive and hasty in
action, is inevitable. The student will understand the
subject clearly if he is acquainted with the simpler pro-
cesses of nerve and brain reaction. A sensation, for ex-
ample, that of a prick at the tip of the finger, is carried to
the spinal cord by afferent nerves. From the spinal cord
comes back along efferent nerves a reflex which contracts
the muscles of arm and hand in a hasty motion to with-
draw from the object that inflicted pain. This action takes
place without any thought process or critical reasoning.
At least, such is usually the fact. However, it may hap-
pen that with the sensation of pain there is also in the
mind a perception of some dangerous object that would be
encountered if the hand were suddenly thrown back. In
K 129
130 The Elements of Sociology
this case, the mind perhaps is able for an instant to con-
trol the impulse to snatch away the hand, and to direct it
in a careful movement which results both in withdrawing
from the object that has caused the hurt and, at the same
time, in avoiding one that might inflict yet greater injury
if the hand were suddenly thrown against it.
The action last described is complicated because a part
of the nervous current that passes through the afferent
nerves towards the spinal cord is switched off into the
thought centres of the brain ; and the efferent nerves,
therefore, do not instantly bring back the impulse to
snatch the hand away. Instead, there is an instant of
hesitation while deliberation is going on in the brain ; and
not until that process is completed does the hand receive
its command to act.
From this elementary account of our nervous reactions
— an account so brief that it is by no means a complete
statement of the matter — we may derive an important
suggestion to take with us into our consideration of the
social mind and social activity. All true thinking, all
careful looking ov:' the ground to be sure that we know
what we are about before we act, involves a certain re-
straint upon our mechanical tendency to respond instantly
to stimulus. It involves the thoughtful delay that is
implied in our word "deliberation."
Another thing, too, is implied. All action that takes
into account the various possibilities of a situation is nec-
essarily deliberate. A good chess player does not move
his piece until he has thought out all the possible moves
that he can make, and has decided which one is, all things
considered, the best. A poor player sees, at the most,
only two or three of the possible moves ; and seeing so
Sympathy and hnpiilsive Social Action 131
little to think about, he moves much sooner than a superior
antagonist.
These conditions are not changed when men act to-
gether in large numbers. On the contrary, if they have
natures that are sensitive to every impression that is made
upon their senses, if they are sympathetic and quick to
imitate, if they have but little power of patient deliber-
ation — they are quick to act, and their action is impul-
sive, emotional, lacking in coolness of judgment, and
perhaps disastrous to themselves and others.
Especially is this true if they are by nature or circum-
stance subject to what psychologists call suggestion. A
person is subject to suggestion if he responds uncon-
sciously to an idea, as we all respond automatically in re-
flex action to a sensation. The normal tendency of an
idea, as of a sensation, is towards motor discharge. To see
the name of an appetizing dish is to have an impulse to
order it. To think of picking up a novel from the table is
to have an impulse to reach forth the hand for the book.
An idea, then, is not only a state of consciousness, it is
also a hint to do something — it is^a^. suggestion. The
tendency to act is held in check only by counteracting
ideas. If no counteracting ideas come into the mind, or
if, when they come, they receive no attention, the idea al-
ready there has everything its own way. The suggestion
is unconsciously followed. Complete inability to resist
suggestion is, however, an abnormal state of the brain.
It is known as the hypnotic trance. The critical faculty
of the hypnotized patient is absolutely suspended ; and he
converts suggestions into acts with the unhesitating pre-
cision of a machine.
To give attention to counteracting ideas is to stop and
132 The Elements of Sociology
think, it is to deliberate, it is to become critical. Conse-
quently, critical minds are not easily carried away by sug-
gestion.
They may be, however, if the suggestion is so unobtru-
sive as not to awaken suspicion or opposition. For ex-
ample, if a sharpened lead pencil is quietly placed on the
desk near a person who is earnestly talking, the chances
are that, without the slightest deliberation, he will pick
up the pencil and begin marking, or drawing, or perhaps
writing fragmentary memoranda, on the pad of paper be-
fore him.
In an even more subtle way are thoughts and courses of
action often suggested to men in crowds. A skilful pub-
lic speaker can work a crowd to a great pitch of excite-
ment by artfully insinuating the truth of that which he
wishes them to believe, or the wisdom of that which he
wishes them to do, while apparently directing his argument
upon some quite different question.
Extent of Impulsive Action. — A large part of all the
social action in which many individuals take a concerted
part is impulsive rather than deliberate ; and therefore
many of the dramatic events of history have been impulsive
social actions.
If the student will take pains to recall some of the most
interesting political, judicial, and industrial events that
have occurred during his lifetime, he will probably be
surprised to discover how often great numbers of men,
carried away ty the excitement and enthusiasm of the
moment, have engaged in proceedings that their reason
might or might not afterwards approve, but in which it
certainly played very little part at the moment. Some-
times these events are violent in character, taking the
Sympathy and Impulsive Social Action 133
form of riots, lynchings, and turbulent ccftiduct in connec-
tion with strikes or lockouts. Sometimes they are entirely
peaceful and lawful, but none the less hasty and incon-
siderate — as when a legislative body, moved by a wave
of popular feeling, enacts a law without deliberation,
simply assuming that the popular belief or demand is to be
accepted at its face value without opposition or criticism.
Sometimes an entire nation is thus wrought up to impul-
sive action which carries it onward to frightful disaster.
One of the most noteworthy examples in all history was
that of the flaming forth of war passion in France in 1870,
when, accepting beliefs that had no foundation in fact, and
feeling a confidence in itself which events proved to have
been entirely without justification, the French army
plunged into a struggle that speedily ended in the over-
throw of the Napoleonic Empire.
Conditions of Impulsive Action. — The rapid development
of sympathetic like-mindedness and resulting impulsive
social action is by no means an accidental thing. Like
everything else in nature and life, it depends upon the
combination of factors that can be analyzed and described ;
and it conforms to laws that, when we have learned more
about them, we shall probably find are quite as absolute as
are those laws of physical phenomena that are studied by
the chemist and the physiologist.
Physical Cofiditions of geography and climate exert an
important effect in predisposing social populations to emo-
tional and impulsive action, or in restraining them from
it. It has long been observed that the southern peoples
of the Northern Hemisphere are more excitable and im-
pulsive in both individual and social activity than are the
people of colder northern climes. To what extent this is
134 T^^^^ Elements of Sociology
due to temperature merely, we do not yet know. It is,
however, certain that excessive temperature is a real factor
in emotional conduct. This is proven in very many ways,
among others by the increasing number of crimes of
violence with the transition from early spring to summer
in countries like the United States, England, France, and
Germany ; by the increase, at the same period of the year,
of nervous disorders ; and by the greater difficulty that
the managers of prisons, jails, insane asylums, and other
places where people are restrained of liberty, have in
maintaining the usual routine of discipline whenever a
sudden rise of temperature occurs.
Many years ago, a profound English thinker, Henry
Thomas Buckle, in his " Introduction to the History of
Civilization in England," called attention to the effect of
certain aspects of nature in producing types of character
and temperament, and moods of feeling which, it is well
known, predispose a population to emotional social conduct.
In lands where earthquakes, famines, and pestilences are
most frequent, the habitual state of fear represses a cool,
critical, intellectual activity, and stimulates imagination
and emotion. These are the states of mind that most
powerfully contribute to sympathetic like-mindedness and
impulsive social action.
' Mental Conditions^ themselves, however, are the im-
mediate causes of the limitation of like-mindedness to its
sympathetic form and of consequent hasty action. Of all
these conditions, fear and ignorance are the most potent.
In the nature of things, an ignorant population can act
deliberately, that is with rational consideration, only to a
very slight extent. Deliberation must have material to
work upon. Reason is as incapable of arriving at sound
Sympathy and Impulsive Social Action 135
conclusions, unless it has stores of accurate knowledge
to think about, as the Israelites in Egypt were to make
their bricks without straw. An ignorant population,
therefore, is at the mercy of its sensations, passions,
superstitions, and fears. It can easily be led to believe
that danger threatens when no danger exists, and that
salvation depends upon some instant course of action that
complete knowledge would show to be cruel and disastrous.
Above all, however, is the power of fear, that state of
mind which puts in the background such reason as a man
may have, and delivers him over to the unrestrained play
of his animal instincts and reflex actions. Thus it is that
in panics and routs, the very delirium of social madness
is reached. The most civilized of nations have not yet
brought themselves completely under the discipline that
masters fear, as was frightfully demonstrated in the
appalling scenes that attended the burning of the Bazar
de Charity in Paris, and the sinking of the transatlantic
steamer La Bourgogne in 1898.
The Crowd. — Neither external physical conditions nor
states of the individual mind, however, would produce the
full effects so often witnessed in impulsive social action if
there were not added to the combination a strictly social
condition also ; namely, the massing of men in crowds.
It is the crowd that reveals possibilities of unreason,
frightful fear, fury, and insatiable cruelty from which
even ignorant and superstitious individuals, in their
calmer moments, would shrink back appalled. Much
valuable study of the psychology of crowds has been
made in recent years by able psychologists and sociolo-
gists. The crowd curiously resembles the undeveloped
mind of the child and of the savage. Naturally, men in
136 The Elements of Sociology
crowds are subject to a swift contagion of feeling that
would be impossible were they dispersed and able to com-
municate only slowly and with difficulty. For the same
reason, they are extremely sensitive to suggestion and to
unnoticed influences. In crowds men are even more
likely to think in terms of symbolic images, catch words,
and shibboleths than when by themselves. This, of
course, is because others are continually calling their
attention to symbols, and with emotional fervour repeating
the fetichistic phrases. With the critical faculty in abey-
ance, men in crowds are in a state of mind to be easily
deceived, to believe any wild rumour that is started, and
even to become subject to hallucination. The crowd is
devoid of the sense of responsibility because, when lost
in the mass, the individual loses his own feeling of re-
sponsibility and acquires a sense of invincible power, and
so gives way to impulses which, if he were alone, he would
control. Like the savage and the child, the crowd is
intolerant of anything interposed between its desires and
their realization ; and it always manifests a tendency to
carry suggested ideas immediately into action. Crowds,
therefore, are mobile, and with changing excitants, they
are generous, heroic, or pusillanimous.
Laws of Impulsive Action. — Such are some of the condi-
tions favourable to sympathetic and impulsive social action.
What, now, are the laws of such action }
There are three of these laws that may be regarded as
demonstrated.
Law of Origin. — The first is the law of origin. Before
impulsive social action begins, there is a certain amount
of preliminary communication whereby sympathetic like-
mindedncss is developed. A certain situation exists
Sympathy and Impulsive Social Action 137
which interests a number of individuals. The sociologi-
cal problem is, Will these individuals become more and
more like-minded with reference to this situation ? Will
it affect them in the same way to such an extent that
they will presently hold the same belief in regard to its
causes, and find themselves disposed to enter upon the
same course of action ?
In this preliminary stage of pomTnunication, talk on the
subject becomes excited, men say irresponsible and foolish
things. They become more terrified, more angry, or more
sentimental, as the case may be, and more and more liable
to give way to an imitative following of the first example
of overt action that may be set. At what point, then, in
this now like-minded population, does the transition from
talk to action begin .'* The answer to this question is the
law of the origin of impulsive action, as follows :
Impulsive social action is commenced by those elements of
the population that are least self-controlled.
This law is demonstrated in two ways ; namely, psycho-
logically and historically. Psychologically, the normal
nervous process is one that results in action, as has been
shown at the beginning of this chapter. Stimulus,
whether it be sensation or idea, if left to itself, produces
reflex action or conscious muscular movement. Action
is inhibited, that is, restrained or prevented, only by the
higher and more complicated brain centres. The power
of inhibition is that which, in common phrase, we call
self-control. In the crowd are gathered individuals who
differ in their inhibitory control of the nervous processes
— of the tendency to carry into action the plan suggested
by the talk that is overheard. Those who have the greater
power of self-control resist this tendency longer. In other
138 The Elements of Sociology
words, those who have least of such power are the first
to put the suggestion into action.
The historical proof of this law is derived from the long
chronicle of crazes, revolutions, riots, and massacres that
have made human history tragic. There is no better
exercise for the student of Sociology than that of work-
ing out for himself the inductive proof of this law of the
origin of impulsive social action. In the suggestions for
Parallel Study, at the end of this chapter, some of the
chief historical examples of impulsive social action are
named. The student should study these examples with
the purpose of discovering just how talk and agitation
gave place to violence. He will discover that in all the
instances mentioned, violence began at the hands of men
of very imperfect mental and moral development, and
usually criminal or qiiasi-Q.\\xi\\\\2\.
Law of Extent and Intensity. — The second law of
impulsive social action is that of its extent and intensity.
This law is deduced from the character of the action
under consideration. It is sympathetic and imitative.
This means that each individual who becomes subject to
the wave of feeling and impulse that is moving through
the crowd or community is himself, in turn, an example
and transmitter of impulse to others. If, then, starting
from one individual, the suggestion or impulse is com-
municated by him to a second, there are immediately two
centres of influence. If each of these again communicates
the impulse to another individual not yet reached, there
are immediately four centres of influence. If each of
these communicates it to another, there are immediately
eight centres of influence. Thus the impulse extends in a
geometrical progression.
Sympathy and Impulsive Social Action 139
In the same progression also it intensifies. The indi-
vidual who started the movement was, at the outset, sub-
ject only to the original stimulus acting upon his own
mind. When, however, he has communicated it, the
emotional excitement of a second mind reacts upon the
first. When they, in turn, have communicated it to
two more, the emotional reaction of three minds has
begun to act upon each of the four. When those four,
in turn, have communicated it to eight, the emotional
excitement of seven has begun to react upon each of
the eight, and so on indefinitely.
Thus the law of the extent and intensity of impulsive
social action is as follows :
Impulsive social action tends to extend and to intensify
in a geometrical progression.
Law of Restraint. — The third law of impulsive social
action is the law of restraint.
The only restraint that can hold in check the tendency
to impulsive social action is deliberation — critical, com-
prehensive thinking. Deliberation, however, must have
become a habit of mind in order to exercise much restrain-
ing influence upon social impulse. It becomes a habirol
mind only in connection with its employment in practical
activity ; and this happens when the practical activities
of life are so complex that it is impossible to achieve
success by those direct, apparently obvious, but really
futile means which suggest themselves to a bright but
child-like mind. To the bird that has flown into a room,
the obvious way to get out seems to be by vainly beat-
ing its wings against the window-pane. Only by accident
does it discover that by the indirect method of flying
down to the space below the raised sash it can gain the
^
140 The Elements of Sociology
desired freedom. This lesson, that many of the most vital
achievements in life depend upon indirect means is, all
things considered, the most important lesson of human
experience. The discovery of indirect means is possible
only through reason and deliberation. Little by little, as
such discoveries are made and added to human experience,
and as the habit of obtaining results by indirect means is
acquired, there is a stimulating reaction upon the develop-
ment of reason itself, and a slow growth of the habit of
deliberation. And this habit, as has been said, is the only
means that can be relied upon to hold impulsive social
tendencies in check. The law, then, of restraint of im-
pulsive social action is :
Impulsive social action varies inversely with the habit of
attaining ends by indirect and complex means.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Sidis's "Psychology of Suggestion." Study the rise and con-
duct of the Crusades, giving special attention to the expeditions led
by Peter the Hermit, Walter the Penniless, and Gottschalk, and to the
Crusade of the Children. Analyze the events of the Reign of Terror
in the French Revolution, and those of the reign of the Commune of
Paris in 1871. Study the character of the Draft Riots in New York in
1863, of the Pittsburg Riot of 1877, and of the Armenian Massacres of
1894-5-6.
CHAPTER XIV
Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity
Belief the Substance of Tradition. — Among the most
obvious modes of concurrent mental activity in human
societies are those which consist in the simultaneous oc-
cupation of the minds of many individuals with certain
beliefs, precepts, maxims, and facts of knowledge or sup-
posed knowledge that have been handed down by preced-
ing generations to the present; and, in connection with
a mere occupation of the 'mind with these things, a simul-
taneous like-responsiveness to them, in the form of a daily
obedience to the inherited precepts or rules.
This great body of inherited ideas and precepts is
called tradition.
Tradition is composed in varying degrees of elements
that must be distinguished from one another if we wish
to have any clear conception of the part that tradition
plays in human affairs.
In the foregoing chapters, the word "belief" has fre-
quently appeared. Belief is the largest element in tradi-
tion. It is, therefore, necessary to inquire just what
belief is, and whether it differs from such other intellect-
ual products as knowledge.
Nature of Belief. — Many individuals who are by no -
means unintelligent fail to make any distinction between
belief and knowledge. There is, however, a difference
that is very real, and which is not infrequently of vital
141
142 The Elements of Sociology
consequence in the practical affairs of human life. To
those who are unfamiliar with the results of modern in-
vestigations in Psychology, it may be a strange discovery
to learn that belief is not, to any important extent, a prod-
uct of critical thinking, or of the process of arriving at
rational judgments, but is rather a form of emotion. Be-
lief is so far separated from knowledge that not infre-
quently the most positive beliefs are affirmations of
alleged truths which, upon investigation, prove to have
absolutely no foundation in fact. For example, a man
may vehemently believe that his political party will tri-
umph in the next election, when, if he were to look over
the field, he might easily discover that the drift of events
is such as to make his belief in reality absurd.
^ Knowledge, on the other hand, is truth that cannot be
overthrown by any process of testing or criticising. If,
for example, an ignorant man should say to the chemist,
" I do not believe your assertion that water can be re-
solved into two gases, or that by putting two gases to-
gether in certain quantities you can produce water ; your
assertion in this matter is no better than that of the man
who believes that his party will win in the next election ; "
the chemist has only to reply, " Experiment for yourself
then. Take a certain quantity of water and deal with it
according to my directions, and see what result you get ; "
and this reply the man who possesses scientific knowledge
can make to any objector. He can always say, " This
proposition is true not merely because I believe it, or be-
cause any other man believes it ; it is true because any
man who disbelieves it can, if he will, subject it to any
sort of test or criticism without being able to overthrow
it."
Formal Like-minded7iess : Tradition and Conformity 143
The Origins of Belief. — Why, then, i^ it that all of us
have minds stocked with beliefs instead of stored with
verified knowledge ? Why is it that the great body of
traditions is, as has been said, composed largely of beliefs
handed down from the past and cherished with reverent
regard ? What, in short, is the cause of belief ?
The simplest answer to this question is found in the
familiar experience that when we have once done a thing,
we feel that we can do it again ; that when we have done
many things, we acquire from our success a feeling of self-
assurance, a sense of power, -which takes the form of a
conviction that we could do many things that we have not
yet attempted.
At first sight, this account of the matter^does not seem
to have a close connection with two large classes of beliefs
that all men indulge in ; namely, first, beliefs that certain
events which must be produced by others or by imper-
sonal nature rather than by ourselves will, as a matter of
fact, occur; and, second, beliefs that events which we
know were not produced by ourselves did in fact occur at
some time in the past. Nevertheless, the connection is a
real one ; and it is because of our own power to do things,
that we believe that events which we are interested in will
happen, or that alleged events in the past which also we
are interested in did happen.
The connection is this : When we attempt or expect to
do anything, we are in a state of emotional excitement.
In most instances we do or expect to do because we de-
sire or ardently wish to accomplish a certain thing. The
desire is the stimulus that sets our motor apparatus in
operation. If, then, we have so often succeeded in achiev-
ing the hoped-for purpose that we have acquired confi-
144 ^'^^ Elements of Sociology
dence in our power to achieve, we have, at the same time,
without being aware that we were doing so, established a
close connection between ardent hope and the expectation
of realizing hope. That is to say, if, in nine cases out of
ten, in the things that we ourselves hope for and strive
for, the hope actually is realized, there grows up in our
nervous organization a close connection between hope, or
desire, and the confident expectation that hope will be
realized. Therefore, in consequence of this habit of mind,
it happens that any future event which we strongly de-
sire we also expect, unless the critical habit of asking
sceptical questions, and trying to find out what actual facts
would justify our expectation, steps in to interrupt the
natural process of belief-formation.
One further stage in this natural process has still to be
mentioned. Some of our beliefs are convictions that our
ideas of events or things are true pictures of them, and
that certain theories or explanations are true accounts of
the facts, although we have not actually subjected them
to any test. Are these beliefs also closely associated with
our confidence in our own powers }
This association also is real, and comes about as follows :
In all our attempts to do things, we are not only actuated
by the strong desire which is easily converted into an ex-
pectation of success, but also we are guided by our mental
picture of the thing to be achieved, and by that theory of
what the thing is, and of the best way to attack it, or to
deal with it, which we provisionally accept as a plan of
operation.
Now, similar to the connection between success and
expectation, is a connection between success and antece-
dent ideas. If we have so often succeeded hitherto in our
Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity 145
attempts to do things that we now confidently expect to
succeed in future undertakings, it is certain that, in a ma-
jority of instances, our ideas of the thing to be achieved
and our theories of the best way of achieving have, on
the whole, been sound. Consequently, there is established
in our minds an intimate association between any idea or
theory that we vividly conceive, and which takes strong
possession of our minds, and the expectation that this idea
or theory will turn out to be true. We acquire the same
self-assured confidence in our own ideas that we have in
our own power to achieve success. In the absence of a
critical, sceptical habit of putting our ideas and theories
to severe tests, we unthinkingly assume or take for granted
that any vivid, clear idea presented in our minds is with-
out doubt a true idea.
This, then, is the nature of belief. It is the confident
expectation that what we desire will come true ; that what
we find to be extremely interesting in accounts of the
past were true ; that ideas and theories which stand forth
clearly in our mind, undoubtedly are true. And this con-
fidence we feel because, in a majority of instances, the
things that we have desired and striven for have been
realized; and the ideas and theories that we have acted
upon in our striving have turned out to be sufficiently
accurate for practical purposes. Consequently, the habit
of our minds is this : in the absence of criticism, whatever
we ardently desire, we confidently expect; whatever we
vividly imagine, we believe to be true.
Belief, accordingly, is analogous to reflex action and
response to suggestion. We have seen that, in the ab-
sence of any intervention of the higher thought centres,
— of any inhibition of action by a critical deliberation, —
146 Xhe Elements of Sociology
stimulation is followed by a nervous discharge and mus-
cular movement. In like manner, in the absence of criti-
cal investigation, desire and imagination pass immediately
and without obstruction into belief.
From the foregoing account of belief, the reader will
easily gather that belief is more closely associated with
the sympathetic, emotional, and imitative modes of mental
activity than with the rational and deliberative modes.
This is true ; and it may be added that belief is just a
further stage in the development of the emotional and
imaginative states of the mind, which has resulted from
subjecting them to a series of practical experiments, in
which success has, all in all, been more frequent than
failure.
1/ Common Beliefs. — Let us now apply these truths to
the further explanation of the social mind.
In the experience of the community, as in that of the
individual, emotional conduct, guided chiefly by imagina-
tion, has more often than not achieved a measure of real
success in practical undertakings. In accordance with
the processes of mental development just explained, these
successes have created prevailing beliefs in the commu-
nity in regard to the objects of practical endeavour, the
conditions of individual and social existence, and the
methods of individual and social activity by which prac-
tical success in life is attained. These beliefs are com-
municated from the old to the young, and, as they become
more and more firm in quality, they are taught with many
strong asseverations of their certain truth and practical
value. Thus, as was said at the beginning of this chap-
ter, they become the chief material clement in that mass
of social memories which we call tradition.
Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity 147
With them, however, is mingled precept — the injunc-
tion to heed and to cherish the beliefs themselves. With
belief and precept are mingled also many shreds and
scraps of actual knowledge. To some extent, in the
course of time, beliefs are subjected to doubt, to critical
investigation, and, if they happen to be true, to verifica-
tion. Under this process, the verifiable elements of be-
lief become scientific knowledge.
We have now to observe next what orders or classes
the whole body of social traditions may be divided into
in accordance with the subject-matter.
The Three Orders of Traditions. — The whole body of
tradition is differentiated into three great orders of tra-
ditions ; and these are differentiated into particular tradi-
tions which correspond to the varied interests of life. ^^
The primary traditions are the economic, the juridical, *-
and the political. When we were analyzing the practical
activities of a social population, we discovered that the
simple and primary activities are those of appreciation,
utilization, characterization, and socialization. We also
discovered that more complicated activities are produced
by the combination of socialization with utilization and
characterization. The elementary processes of apprecia-
tion, utilization, and characterization are individual pro-
cesses. They are activities which the individual may
carry on, irrespective of his association with fellow-beings.
For this reason there are no traditions corresponding to
these beginnings of practical activity. Tradition is a
social fact, and can come into existence only after some
activity of socialization. Consequently, the earliest ac-
tivities to give rise to bodies of traditional belief and
precept are those complicated ones that are formed
148 The Elements of Sociology
by the union of socialization with utilization and character-
t .zation.
Thus the traditions of utility are economic in form ;
they are traditions of the utility that is socially produced
through various forms of mutual aid. The earliest tradi-
tions of morality and characterization are in form traditions
of that socially produced right conduct, the chief factor
of which is toleration. The traditions of socialization
itself, in like manner, are traditions of that union of
economic and juristic activity, in combination with de-
•J
fensive and offensive alliance, which constitutes political
activity.
^ The Primary Traditions. — The economic tradition,
probably the first to grow out of human experience, is a
product of the relations of superiors to inferiors, including
among inferiors not only less powerful human beings, but
also animals, and all vegetable organisms and inorganic
things that can be appropriated by the superiors or pressed
into their service. This tradition is not, to any great
extent, made up of conscious analyses of useful relations,
useful activities, and degrees of utility. The tradition is
concrete ; but in the concrete it includes a scale of com-
parative values. It includes popular beliefs that some
things are more important or useful than others. It
includes the popular ideas in regard to food, shelter, and
objects that afford pleasure; it includes also the popular
beliefs and precepts in regard to implements, clothing,
gifts, trade, labour, and cooperation. All this economic
tradition originally centres in the household ; but in the
civilized world it extends to that elaborate organization
of manufactures and commerce which has been differen-
tiated from household industry.
Formal Like-7nindediiess : Tradition and Confonnity 149
Second in importance among the primary traditions is the ^
juristic tradition, which grows out of the relations of antag-
onistic equals. It has been shown that the effective sanc-
tion of toleration is vengeance. The modes of vengeance
and the phases of toleration that are suitable to different
circumstances are named and described in rules of custom
which formulate those enjoyments and immunities that are
habitually allowed. Collectively, these rules of objective
and sanctioned right form the substance of what is called
the Common Law.
Third in importance among the primary traditions is
the tradition of alliance in its political form. It grows out
of relations to allies and superiors. Political alliance pre-
supposes traditions of utility and of toleration. Its motive,
is the desire to strengthen the traditions of utility and of'\
toleration by an obedience-compelling power, and to extend
their application. The political tradition, therefore, is de-
veloped out of the economic and juridical traditions, and
in its evolution it is closely interwoven with them.
These three primary traditions are the records of human %•
experiences of the tangible world, the world of things and
persons that can be seen, used, contended with, and com-
bined with.
The Secondary Traditions are the animistic or personal, *^
the poetic, and the religious. They are the records of
man's impressions of an intangible world — a world of per-
sonal consciousness, and of the shadows, images, and
echoes of tangible things.
The personal or animistic tradition is the sum of man's t
beliefs about himself and other beings as consisting of
body and soul. Children and savages, and many ignorant
persons in civilized communities, conceive of inanimate
150 The Elements of Sociology
objects as personal. Beliefs about their supposed habits
and pcwers constitute a large part of the animistic tradition.
Animals, in like manner, are conceived of by such persons
as being like men not only in their power of voluntary
motion, but also in powers of thought, imagination, and
purpose.
The poetic tradition consists of beliefs about sounds
and images as means of personal expression. The sav-
age regards the shadow or image as a veritable spiritual
essence ; the echo as the audible voice of an unseen soul.
The civilized man has ceased to regard sounds and forms
as living things in any such crude sense ; but through
them, in music, in poetry, and in the plastic arts, he ex-
presses and he reads the subtlest moods of emotion and
imagination. From the earliest times, poetry and art have
conceived of the world and all things in it as essentially
animate or personal ; and this fact is described in systems
of rhetoric as the habit or art of personification. The
truth of the matter is that personification, as the peculiar
quality of poetry or art, is not a rhetorical or artistic inven-
tion. It is the survival of the primitive man's way and of
the child's way of thinking about the world and describing
it. The poetic way of conceiving the world is that which
accepts the appearance of personality as real, and accepts
all images, words, and sounds, as themselves realities.
The religious tradition is the sum of beliefs about the
continued existence of the soul after the death of the body
and about invisible personal powers, from ghosts to gods,
which are supposed to govern natural phenomena and to
control human destinies. Savages think that the world is
peopled with the spirits of the dead. They are regarded
with fear; and beliefs about them are a confused web
Formal Like-mindedtzess : Tradition and Conformity 151
of superstition. To the barbarian, spirits are of various
ranks, from inferior and contemptible ghosts to powerful
gods who, usually, are the ghosts of great chieftains or the
animating spirits of awe-inspiring natural objects. In
civilized lands, the ignorant still believe in ghosts ; and a
majority of the people believe in the existence of personal
gods, or of one Omnipotent God.
The Tertiary Traditions are found only in civilized lands.
They are traditions of conceptual thought. In other
words, they are the record of human reasoning and specu-
lative thinking rather than of mere impression and belief.
They have been developed by an application of specula-
tive thinking or of scientific investigation to the subject-
matter of popular belief.
The oldest of the tertiary traditions is the theological
tradition, which was created by an elaborate process of rea-
smjing and speculation upon the materials furnished by pop-
ular religious beliefs. It is the sum and record of attempts
to demonstrate by reason the existence of a personal God,
to explain his nature and purposes, and to prove that he
created and providentially governs the world and man.
The second of the tertiary traditions is the metaphysi-
cal. It has been derived from the theological. It refines
the theological explanation of the universe by interpos-
ing " secondary causes," laws, and principles between
phenomena and their ultimate cause — the fiat of God.
The third of the tertiary traditions is the scientific.
The scientific tradition is the sum of our actual knowledge
of the world and of man as distinguished from our con-
jectures about them. It is the sifted record of observa-
tions, experiments, and classifications. Making no attempt
to penetrate the final mystery of existence, the scientific
152 The Elements of Sociology
tradition explains the constitution of the world only to the
extent of showing how one thing is related to other things
in sequence and in coexistence.
Formal Like-mindedness. — The popular acceptance of
tradition — of beliefs that have been handed down from
past generations — and obedience to the rules and pre-
cepts that are embodied in the various traditions, are
modes of like-mindedness. But, unlike those described
in the preceding chapter, they are not spontaneous or
impulsive ; they are rather to be described as formal like-
mindedness. They are analogous to habit in the indi-
vidual mind.
Formal like-mindedness is produced by two chief
means. ^ The tendency of the mind to accept as true what-
ever is vividly imagined or ardently desired, if no critical
activity of the reason intervenes, is enormously strength-
ened when the thing believed, or that the mind tends
to believe, is already believed by other persons in whom
the individual has personal confidence. In the preceding
chapter it was shown that any spontaneous emotion or
impulse awakened in the mind by an emblem or shibbo-
leth is enormously strengthened by knowledge that other
persons also are moved by it. ^ 'In like manner, the ten-
dency of the mind to believe anything is strengthened by
the knowledge that other persons already believe. In
short, the consciousness of kind is a powerful element
in the growth of popular belief.
3 Yet further is the tendency to believe strengthened by
the knowledge that not only one's contemporaries believe,
but that preceding generations for ages past also have
believed. The presumption in favour of the truth of the
belief has become enormous, not only because its antiquity
Formal Like-mindedness : Tradition and Conformity 153
is an impressive fact appealing to imagination, but be-
cause, if the critical intelligence begins to question, it is
likely to be easily satisfied by the reflection that if the
belief were untrue, its falsity must long ago have been
discovered and exposed.
Tradition thus acquires in human society all the tremen-
dous force of authority. Authority is a moral power that
constrains man's will without his knowing or being able
to find out why. It is born of emotion and belief rather
than of reason, which is ever asking the wherefore and
the why. Nevertheless, since reason and rational self-
control are of slow growth, the authority of tradition
serves a useful end in helping to maintain social order.
The second means by which formal like-mindedness is <
developed is found in direct teaching and discipline. Tra- *
dition^Mthposed upon the child by his parents and elder
acquaintances. He is directly taught that the traditional
beliefs are true, and that it is even wrong to doubt their
truth and authority. Disbelief is often punished ; and dis-
obedience of traditional precept is punished usually. Not
only so, but through the intimate association between tra-
dition and the everyday activities of life, the child insen-
sibly associates the practical activity with its traditional
background. In his economic life, in his legal relations
and political activities, he can take no single step without
practically accepting most of the traditional system. Daily
life thus becomes a ceaseless discipline and drill in activi-
ties which openly or tacitly assume the truth and suffi-
ciency of tradition.
In general, it may be said that while occasional events,
and especially the dramatic events of life, produce sympa-
thetic like-mindedness; the routine of habitual activity, the
154 The Elements of Sociology
teaching and the discipline of life, continually tend to
produce formal like-mindedness, including conformity to
established customs.
The Laws of Traditional Control. — The development of
formal like-mindedness by the means above described is
due to the emotional nature of belief. Because it is emo-
tional and imaginative, and in its genesis closely allied to
motor processes, belief compels its adherents to assert it
vehemently, to teach it zealously, to try to make others
accept it, and to compel conformity^ to its precepts.
Knowledge, on the other hand, or verified scientific truth,
never tries to compel allegiance. Essentially intellectual
and contemplative, it waits to be accepted by those who
have the intelligence to discover and appreciate it.
From the foregoing facts, it follows that, when the so-
cial mind assumes the mode of belief, it becomes an active
social force tending to compel acceptance and conformity.
This control by belief is reinforced by the influence of
antiquity, chiefly because mere venerableness is impressive
and has much of the effectiveness of emblem and shibboleth.
Accordingly, the laws of the social force of tradition
y are :
First, tradition is authoritative and coercive in proportion
to its antiquity.
Second, traditioji is authoritative and coercive in propor-
tion as its subject-matter consists of belief rather than of
critically established knowledge.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Blackstone's account of Custom ; Wundt's " Ethics," Volume I,
Chapter III ; Maine's « Early Law and Custom," Chapter II ; and Spen-
cer's " Principles of Sociology," Volume III, Part VI, Chapters IX, XII,
XIII, XIV.
CHAPTER XV
Rational Like-mindedness : Public Opinion and
Social Values
The Rational Origin of Public Opinion. — No error is more
common than one which confounds popular beliefs with
the social judgments that constitute true public opinion.
Public belief, as has been shown, is essentially emotional ;
while judgments are a product of critical thinking, and are
essentially rational in character. Where two or more indi-
viduals, each oT whom is capable of subjecting his ideas
and inherited beliefs to a critical examination, come to the
same conclusion, so that their critically tested judgments
are identical, the result is a rational like-mindedness, and
is properly to be spoken of as public opinion. Another
way of stating the same truth is to say that public opinion
comes into existence only when a sympathetic like-minded-
ness or an agreement in belief is subjected to criticism,
started by some sceptical individual who doubts the truth
of the belief or the wisdom of the agreement ; and an opin-
ion is then thought out to which many communicating
minds can yield their rational assent.
It is obvious that not all members of a community are
equally competent to share in the creation of the critical
judgments that constitute true public opinion. Yet,
nearly every individual of ordinary intelligence may share
in it to some extent. All that is necessary is that his be-
155
156 The Elements of Sociology
liefs should be assailed by doubt, and that, after passing
through the experience of questioning and uncertainty, he
should arrive at judgments for which he can give reasons
rather than at convictions which he merely feels.
The process by which doubt is created, criticism is in-
stituted, and judgments are arrived at in society, is called
discussion. In discussion, conflicting beliefs are compared,
analyzed, and subjected to argument. So long as men
accept as true everything that they hear repeated, or that
they are themselves prone to believe, their talk is not to
be described as discussion. It becomes discussion only
when some one disputes or denies, and thereby compels
those who assert to give reasons, or advance arguments, in
support of what they affirm. It is in this wholesome pro-
cess of intellectual strife, as invigorating to the mind as
athletic exercise is to the body, that false beliefs are ex-
posed, and true views are confirmed by the verdict of an
alert and all-searching reason.
Public opinion, then, develops in any community just
to the extent that free discussion develops, just to the
extent that men are in the habit of asking searching
questions and compelling one another to prove their
assertions.
.y Public opinion, therefore, can exist only where men are
/ in continual communication, and where they are free to
( express their real minds, without fear or restraint. Where-
\ ever men are forbidden by governmental or other authority
<^^ to assemble, to hold meetings, to speak or write freely, or
] wherever they stand in fear of losing social position, or
/ employment, or property, if they freely speak their minds,
j there is no true public opinion ; there is only a mass of
I traditional beliefs or outbursts of popular feeling.
Public Opinion and Social Values 157
Products of Thought and Tradition. — In the preceding
chapter it was shown that men believe that their ideas are
true, and that their desires will be realized because, in
actual experience, their ideas have turned out to be suffi-
ciently near the truth for practical purposes, and most of
their desires have been fulfilled. This amounts to saying
that most of the beliefs of mankind have been true, or have
contained a large measure of truth. Consequently, criti-
cal discussion which, from time to time, modifies popular
belief, seldom succeeds in completely overthrowing or anni-
hilating it. There is continually taking place an amalga-
mation of critical judgments with tradition ; and the result
is a number of important products of the social mind, all of
which may be described as combinations of tradition with
new thought. These products are known as standards,
codes, policies, ideals, tastes, faiths, creeds, and "isms."
The Standard of Living. — The combination of eco-,.
nomic traditions with current economic opinions is the/
general standard of living of the community. This term
has been loosely used by economic writers. The commod-
ities that a labouring class consumes are not its standard
of living ; they are merely an index of its standard. Still
less is mere desire a standard. The labour agitator has not
necessarily a higher standard of living than his followers
have if he fluently discourses of refined wants which they —
do not feel. The real standard of living is a certain con-
ception of economic life which regulates desire and controls] '^
conduct. It is constituted of traditional beliefs and new
ideas in varying proportions, and changes as these factors
change. It is not because the Hungarian is satisfied with
food and lodging that would disgust an American, that the
Hungarian standard of living in the coke-burning districts
158 The Elements of Sociology
of Pennsylvania is lower than the American standard.
The Hungarian is so easily satisfied because his standard
of living is lower.
The Legal Code. — The combination of jural tradition
with new law is the legal code. To what extent the pub-
lic opinion of the hour, not yet enacted into statute, is an
element in new law is a question upon which jurists disa-
gree. It is admitted that public opinion influences the
interpretation of law ; and in a republic public opinion is
the real law-enforcing power back of all nominal powers.
For the purposes of theory and practice, all authoritatively
declared law is held to be law until it is authoritatively
repealed. But as a phenomenon of the social mind, a rule
of conduct that public opinion refuses to enforce is already
undergoing repeal.
Public Policy. — The combination of political tradition
and current political opinion is policy — a plan or pro-
gramme of legislation and administration. In quiet times,
when a party or government has long been intrenched in
power, the element of tradition predominates. Often have
political parties suffered defeat and passed into temporary
or perm'afient obscurity because of inability to vitalize their
policy with fresh issues. In times of disturbance, or when
new interests clamour for attention, the predominant ele-
ment in policy is current opinion.
Ideals and Creeds. — New thought in combination with
the tradition of personality creates an ideal. The product
of the poetic tradition and current criticism is taste. The
product of traditional religious beliefs and current reli-
gious ideas is a faith. The modification of the theological
tradition by current conceptions is a creed. The modifi-
cation of the metaphysical tradition by current speculation
Public Opinion and Social Values 159
is an "ism." The modification of the scientific tradition
by fresh discoveries has and needs no special name; for
Science makes no compromises between the old and the
new. Whatever of the old is verified by later research is
retained ; whatever is disproved is rejected, and the net
result is truth.
These products of tradition and opinion exist only in
individual minds. The argument occasionally met with,
that because they can be committed to writing, they are
independent objective realities, is a fallacy. The written
page is meaningless apart from the knowledge of the living
reader. But at any given moment they exist in a multi-
tude of interacting minds, and^re therefore objective as
well as subjective to each individual. Upon each mind as
it unfolds they are imposed from without, and are sanc-
tioned by penalties for disregard or disobedience that
range from ridicule, disapproval, and boycotting, to collec-
tive force and vengeance. Through the channels of its
standards, codes, and policies ; of its ideals, tastes, and
faiths ; of its creeds, " isms," and investigations, the men-
tal life of society flows in an ever-changing distribution.
One generation is absorbed in political concerns ; another
in business affairs. At one time society is religious ; at
another time creative and artistic ; at yet another time
scientific. Always, however, a tendency towards the es-
tablishment of a normal equilibrium may be observed. At
any given moment, traditional beliefs and current opinions
assume unlike forms in different parts of the popula-
tion. The products of the social mind are mutually
dependent.
Social Values. — Belief and tradition are products of in-
tellectual activity in combination with emotion. Public
i6o The Elements of Sociology
opinion is almost wholly an intellectual product. The
combinations of public opinion with tradition that have
just been described are largely intellectual in character,
though not altogether so. All these products become
further complicated by the combination with them of the
ever-changing moods of desire. In these combinations,
and certain resulting products now to be described, we
have the final and most complex integration of the ele-
ments and products of the social mind.
The immediate products of social desire in combination
with social judgments and traditions are social values.
By this term we mean social estimations of certain satis-
factions, relations, modes of activity, and forms of social
organization, which are analogous to those valuations of
material wealth and of useful activities that are made by
the individual mind and form a part of the subject-matter
of economic science.
The objects of social value, like objects of value in the
economic sense, are of two classes or categories. One
class comprises those objects that are esteemed for the
direct or immediate satisfaction that they yield, as the
goods which, like food and clothing ready for immediate
consumption, are esteemed for the utility that they directly
afford. The other class comprises those objects of social
value that are esteemed because they are means to the
attainment of the objects of the first class, just as tools,
machinery, and other forms of capital goods are esteemed
because they are means to the production of goods for
immediate consumption.
Primary Values. — In the first chapter, it was shown
that companionship, like-mindedness, and the conscious-
ness of kind, are immediately pleasurable. Quite irrespec-
Public Opinion and Social Values i6i
tive of such useful results as safety and the increase of
material wealth through cooperation and the division of
labor, society affords immediate satisfaction to its indi-
vidual members. ,..
From this fact it follows that the first category of
objects of social value, comprises these ; namely, the
companion or socius, companionship or association, like-
mindedness, and that state of mind which has been called
the consciousness of kind. These are the ojbjects for 1
which society exists. They directly yield the supreme
satisfaction of the social relation. All other social
products, all forms of social organization, are secondary
objects of social value, because they are merely means to
the attainment of ulterior ends.
1. The Socius. — The supreme object of social value
is the socius or the group of socii. A man may value his
houses and lands more than he values his neighbours ; but
houses and lands are objects primarily of economic rather
than of social value. In the social category there is noth-
ing else that we cherish as we do our comrades, friends,
and neighbours.
2. The Qualities of the Socius. — While supremely
valuing our associates as concrete personalities, by a pro-
cess of abstraction we learn to value also their peculiar
qualities. Usually we lay stress on qualities that espe-
cially appeal to us through the consciousness of kind. If
we are devoted to athletics, we value that passion in our
companions. If we are artistic, we value good taste and
hate Philistinism. If we are sympathetic, we value kind-
ness, and an unselfish devotion to humanity.
3. The Social Type. — By further abstraction, we learn
to value personal qualities collectively. Having taken
1 62 The Elements of Sociology
aote of the peculiarities of our associates, in course of
time we combine our observations in a complex mental
image like a composite photograph. This image we call
a type. Next to the socii themselves as concrete person-
alities, communities value their own type of manhood and
social nature. This valuation of type is a chief element
in what is called national prejudice. It is humorously
symbohzed in such national nicknames as "John Bull,"
''Brother Jonathan," and "Uncle Sam."
4. TJie Pi'ef erred Mode of Resemblance. — By a yet
further process of abstraction, the individual or the com-
munity, in valuations of socii, and especially of peculiar
and typical qualities, commonly lays stress on some one
of the great modes of resemblance. That which is chiefly
valued in the socius may be the resemblance of blood or
kinship, as happens in family relationships, where attach-
ment to relatives exists in consequence of kinship, irre-
spective of all other reasons ; or it may be mental and
moral resemblance, and the consequent capacity for
cooperation ; or yet again, it may be the potential resem-
blance which is the foundation of so large a proportion of
all friendship and agreeable acquaintance.
5. The Ideal Socius. — Every individual has not only
his actual socii, but also an ideal socius, or perhaps ideal
socii, which, at a very early age, he begins to create in
imagination. Putting together traits of character that
please him in his actual living companions, and leaving
out traits of character that displease him, he creates ideal
personalities as truly as any novelist or dramatist does,
except that he has not the dramatist's power of picturing
them to the imaginations of other persons. Experiments
that have been made with thousands of school children
Public Opinion and Social Values 163
have shown that, with few exceptions, children of gram-
mar and high school grades have well-defined images of
ideal characters or heroes whom they desire in their own
personal development to resemble, 0/ whom they hope
to find in some measure realized in actual companions to
be met with in future years. Communities, as well as
individuals, create their ideal socii, and try by vari-
ous means, such as religious and secular teaching, and
laws forbidding certain kinds of conduct, to mould the
actual members of society into semblance of the ideal
types.
6. Elements of Goodness. — In creating ideals of any
kind, whether of pleasures, things, or persons, the mind
proceeds by means of its idea of a quality which we call
goodness or the good. Goodness is a quality of things,
acts, or experiences, which appeals to the judgment rather
than to sensation or emotion. Among possible pleasures,
there are some of which the judgment may not approve.
Goodness, then, is not coextensive with the pleasing or the
pleasure-giving. The good consists of all that upon which
we have passed a critical judgment of approval, as dis-
tinguished from utilities that we accept and enjoy un-
critically.
In any community the ruling criteria of goodness are
derived from the typical qualities of the population ; and
it is impossible for any community to think that its own
traits and its own conduct do not, in some measure, realize
its conception of the ideal good.
(i) Power and Independence. — In this idealizing pro-
cess, a majority of all human beings especially value power,
both physical, and mental or moral. The hero of the aver-
age man is the person of great physical strength, or skill,
164 The Elements of Sociology
or courage ; and the average man delights in the intimate
acquaintance and companionship of such a hero. He
wishes himself to resemble such men of power; and he
desires that the community to which he belongs shall col-
lectively manifest this quality. In literature, the noblest
expressions of this social valuation of power are the Ho-
meric epics, the later Greek tragedies, the grim Teutonic
legends, and the magnificent sagas of the North.
(2) Love of Pleasure. — The characteristic that is valued
next after power, and by almost as many members of the
community, is the love of pleasure and the capacity for
creating and enjoying it. Most human beings delight in
the companionship of those who love a good time and
know how to have it. The man who can make fun or
provide amusement, and who has the power to arouse an
entire company to mirth, is always in demand, is always
admired, and is always an example widely imitated. This
social valuation also has varied expression in literature —
most beautiful, perhaps, in the romance and poetry of
chivalry, which picture a ceaseless round of tournaments
and bouts, of hunting and hawking, of feasting, love-mak-
ing, and minstrelsy.
(3) Self-conservation. — A smaller proportion of man-
kind, and yet an enormous number in the aggregate,
chiefly value those moral qualities that may collectively be
spoken of as self-restraint or self-conservation. The power
to be temperate in all things, to resist temptation, to ab-
stain with rigid self-denial from modes or degrees of pleas-
ure that often result in injury, is a trait of character vastly
admired by a portion of mankind, and is chiefly sought for
in the selection of companions and in the efforts that are
made to mould the characters of the members of the com-
Public Opinion and Social Values 165
munity. This particular form of social valuation is known
in history as Puritanism. Its highest literary expression is
found in the "Divine Comedy" of Dante and the "Para-
dise Lost " of Milton.
(4) Self-realization. — Yet fewer, a small minority in
fact of all mankind, are those who chiefly value that keen-
visioned and rational personality which, with wide outlook
upon the world, strives for the complete realization of all
the nobler possibilities of life. The mind that appreciates
the worth of all bodily powers, mental capacities, and
moral virtues that belong to the individual human being,
that strives to perfect a well-rounded nature, giving as far
as possible full play to every faculty, realizing that the
supreme object of life is the highest possible development
of personality, the intellectual sympathy that desires this
larger life for all men, and the faith that holds it possible,
— these belong to an ideal personality which, in the nature
of things, appeals only to the thoughtful few. Neverthe-
less, to the few at all times and, in a progressive civili-
zation, to an increasing proportion of all men, it is the
supreme object of social value. In literature, this noblest
valuation finds its loftiest expression in the writings of
Petrarch, Goethe, and Robert Browning.
7. Heroes^ Saints^ and Gods. — In every community the
qualities of the actual or ideal type that most strongly
appeal to a majority of the population are typified in cer-
tain heroes whose characters are sure to approach more
and more closely to the ideal type as the years go by, and
imagination, legend, and poetry do their work, of eliminat-
ing from the mental picture all those elements that are in-
consistent with the ideal, and of heightening those that are
most characteristic of it. The military heroes, the states-
1 66 The Elements of Sociology
men, poets, and even men of science who have won re-
nown invariably become to popular belief the typical
embodiments of the moral qualities chiefly valued in the
community. The same is true of religious saints, and
among savage and barbarian peoples of those gods that
are supposed to be the surviving spirits of tribal chieftains
once formidable in their earthly life.
Secondary Values. — We will more briefly notice those
objects of social value that belong to the second class or
category ; those, namely, that are means to the mainten-
ance and development of the socii, or to the creation of
ideal socii, or to the perfection of those relations of com-
panionship which are the immediate source of social
pleasure.
First in this second category of objects of social value
is always placed that social cohesion which is necessary to
the maintenance of the social system with all the benefits
that it confers. So great is the valuation of social unity
that whenever the natural means of social cohesion in the
form of spontaneous sympathy, agreement in opinion^ or
loyalty are lacking, artificial means, even of the most
questionable character, are invariably resorted to. States
threatened with disruption, and even parties and sects in
similar circumstances, have rarely failed to resort to co-
ercion, bribery, and patronage as means of maintaining
a failing social cohesion.
The social cohesion, by whatever means maintained,
acts upon the type or kind of character prevalent in the
community, in other words, upon the type of socius, through
various yet more remote means, among which are included
possessions, customs, laws, and institutions. All these,
therefore, are objects of social value. They may be
Public Opinion and Social Values 167
divided into two chief groups. One group includes heri.
tages, that is, possessions, customs, and institutions, that
have descended from former generations. The .other
group ipcludes all laws and institutions that are in the
liatiife of innovations or experiments.
Laws of Social Choice. — Social values are the grounds of
rational social choice, and of all action of the social will
that is deliberate rather than impulsive.
There have been writers on Sociology who have denied
that masses of men ever act rationally. They have argued
that as men differ less in feeling than in intelligence, and
as men in crowds are peculiarly susceptible to emotion
and suggestion, the intellectual processes have, under such
circumstances, very little opportunity to manifest them-
selves.
Nevertheless, there is abundant historical proof that
communities do oftentimes arrive at rational decisions,
after many years of persistent discussion of the merits of
the question. Among excellent examples have been most
of the amendments to the Constitution of the United
States, and to the constitutions of the several common-
wealths.
The Essential Condition of deliberate social decision is
the alternation of meeting and discussion with separation.
The crowd must occasionally disperse. Its individual
members must be brought under new influences. This
truth is simply a more complicated case of that psycho-
logical law, already noted, that rational thinking consists
in the interposition of new ideas between stimulation
and the consequent muscular action. The tendency of the
crowd, as we have seen, is to react instantly as a unit upon
any suggestion, just as the tendency of the non-rationa.
1 68 The Ele^nents of Sociology
man is to expend his nervous energy in reflex action. In
the individual, this process is interrupted by any new idea
or suggestion. In the crowd, it is interrupted when dis-
persion and separation bring the individual members under
new influences.
When the conditions favourable to rational social choice
exist, the choice itself is determined by the scale of social
values, just as individual choices are determined by the
scale of ethical and economic values in individual minds.
The Law of Preference. — So long as the majority of
men chiefly value the primitive virtues of power, indepen-
dence, courage, and ability in every form, it is evident that
rational social choice must more often than not turn upon
this particular object of social esteem. In like manner,
the least influential object in determining social choice is
that rational self-realization which appeals only to the few.
Consequently, we have the first law of rational social
choice, the law of preference of ends to be achieved, as
follows :
In all social choice^ the most influential ideal is that of
personal force or of virtue in the original sense ; the second
in ijiflucnce is the hedonistic or utilitarian idealy namely^
the ideal of pleasure ; the third is self-conservation, or the
Puritan ideal ; the least influential is the ideal of self-
realization or self development. But if mental evolution
continues, the higher ideals become increasingly influential.
The Law of Combination and of Means. — A second law
governing social choices is the law of combination and of
the choice of means.
While a population, like an individual, shows marked
preferences in its estimation of the qualities of the ideal
socius or community, and in its estimation of ends to be
Public Opinion and Social Values 169
achieved, in real life it is always necessary to make many
combinations of choices, many modifications, and to decide
upon* the l^st means of realizing the preferred ends. In
these attempts to make combinations and to select means,
certain characteristics of choice appear which we are in
the habit of speaking of as conservative or radical. Some
communities, like individuals, are loath to displace one
object of value by another, to disturb existing relations, or
to resort to any extreme means in order to achieve desired
ends. Other communities, like individuals of a different
type, are eager to sweep away the old, to indulge in radical
experiment, or resort to any means that promises suc-
cess. These tendencies, however, are not fortuitous :
they are strictly governed by law.
To make this clear, it is necessary to begin with an ex-
planation of a simple case.
In choosing our pleasures, we have to modify some
indulgences so that they will combine well with others ;
or, failing to do that, we have to sacrifice some pleasures
altogether. As a rule, many moderate pleasures that
combine well will make up a larger total of satisfaction
than a few pleasures, each of which is intense. Therefore,
it is necessary to correct each subjective value as indi-
vidually considered, by reference to its probable relation to
other values.
Again, in subjective valuations by the individual, imme-
diate good is not necessarily the only element considered.
Further corrections may be made for the future good or ill
that must result from the choice contemplated, including
reactions on the personality, the self-development, and the
self-activity of the chooser.
As soon as the individual has acquired the intellectual
170 The Elements of Sociology
power to make such corrections, he attempts to bring his
subjective values into a consistent whole; but the compo-
sition of the whole, and his success in making it harmoni-
ous throughout, depend very much upon his own experi-
ences. If his experiences have been of few kinds, and
each has often been repeated, his consciousness has be-
come identified with a total of subjective values that is
thoroughly consistent as far as it goes, but that is very
simple in its make-up. His few pleasures are relatively
intense, and he pursues each further than he would if they
were varied.
Suppose, now, that some new element or new mode of
good is introduced into his life — a new pleasure, more
intense than any that he has hitherto enjoyed ; or that
suddenly he sees opened to him possibilities of many new
modes of good which, however, are more or less incompati-
ble with those to which he has been accustomed. His
group of subjective values becomes at once larger and
more complex than it was before, but also less organized.
A long time will elapse before the readjustment is made.
It will involve many sacrifices and self-denials. Mean-
while, the chances are that he will choose crudely and
radically. He will substitute oftener than he will com-
bine. He will destroy when he might conserve. He will
go wholly over to the new way of life, enjoying as before
a few modes of experience intensely, instead of learning
that he might get a greater total of satisfaction from a
large number of less intense experiences harmoniously put
together.
Let these principles now be applied to a population. It
is usual to speak of the elements, modes, and means of
good collectively as interests. A population map of a
Public Opinion and Social Values 171
country may be made, showing the distribution of the
people according to their interests. In one region is dis-
covered a marked predojpinance of those who have lived
for generations in a circumscribed way — the people of
narrow experiences and of few interests. In another
region are discovered large numbers of those who have
suddenly found themselves face to face with possibilities of
which they had not dreamed. Elsewhere are discovered
those who have so long enjoyed varied experiences and
have cultivated manifold interests that their subjective
values make up totals that are highly complex and yet,
at the same time, harmonious.
The people of these different regions in their industry,
their law-making, their educational and religious under-
takings, and their organization of institutions, choose,
select, or decide, strictly in accordance with the mental
characteristics that these different experiences have de-
veloped.
The law of combination and of means which their
choices exemplify is as follows :
A population that has only a feiv interests^ which, how-
ever, are harmoniously combined, is conservative in its
choices. A popidation that has varied interests, which are
as yet inharmonious ly combined, is radical in its choices.
Only the population that has many, varied, and harmoni-
ously combined interests is consistently progressive in its
choices. —
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Bryce's "American Commonwealth," Part IV. From news-
paper almanacs, obtain political party platforms, and analyze them wita
reference to social values.
CHAPTER XVI
Social Organization
Two Causes of Organization. — Many of the activities in
which individuals combine their efforts are continued or
repeated until they have become habitual. The coopera-
tion that is seen in industry, in military operations, and
in government is a series, not of occasional or haphazard
undertakings, but of activities that are both systematic
and continuous.
In carrying on systematic activities of cooperation, dif-
ferent individuals sustain relatively permanent relations
to one another. For example, for years together, two or
more men may conduct business in partnership ; the re-
lation of partnership may become habitual to them. The
same private soldiers for years together obey the same
officers. Certain families for generations live as friendly
neighbours to one another in the same village. Villages,
towns, and counties continue to maintain that combina-
tion of interests which we call a state or commonwealth ;
and the same commonwealths continue to maintain that
union which we call a federal nation. These habitual rela-
tions of the members of a society to one another, and
these persistent forms of cooperative activity, are collec-
tively called the social organization.
The social organization is produced by two distinct sets
of causes acting in combination.
172
Social Organization 173
The relations themselves that men sustain to one an-
other, and the forms of cooperative activity, spring up as
a result of individual suggestion and practical convenience.
Relations that are accidentally formed prove to be interest-
ing, agreeable, and useful, and are therefore permanently
maintained. Forms of cooperation that are invented for a
temporary purpose prove to be so successful that they too
are persisted in. In all this we see nothing but the spon-
taneous action of resembling and sympathetic minds pur-
suing their own immediate practical interests. The social
mind, or concurrent intelligence of the community, has
not been the original creative power.
When, however, these spontaneously formed features of
social organization have become so well established or so
conspicuous that they challenge the attention of every
member of the community, the social mind begins to re-
flect upon them. They become subjects of public discus-
sion and of general approval or disapproval. Subjected
then to analysis and criticism, they are finally pronounced
good, or evil, or doubtful, by the concurrent opinion of the
society. Their further development is then tolerated or
encouraged, or they are stamped out, and the individuals
who attempt to maintain them are punished.
Thus, for example, many different forms of family
organization have, from time to time, appeared in the
world. There have been not only monogamous families,
formed by, the marriage of one man and one woman, but
polyandrous' families, consisting of one wife with two or
more husbands, and polygynous families, consisting of
one husband with two or more wives. In the course of
time, civilized communities have come to disapprove of all
forms of family organization except the monogamic, and
174 The Elements of Sociology
to prohibit both polyandrian and polygynous forms. The
United States, after tolerating for many years the polygy-
nous Mormon communities of Utah, positively forbade
polygamy within the territories of the United States, and
took rigorous measures to stamp it out.
Another excellent example of the action of the social
mind upon the social organization is to be seen in the
organization of the state and of the form of government.
The state, as it slowly develops through military and
legal activity, may assume any one of the great historical
forms of monarchy or republic. In course of time, how-
ever, the forms of government are subjected to a thorough-
going analysis and criticism in public discussion, and the
community arrives at a decision to establish firmly, and to
perpetuate, certain forms to the exclusion of all others.
Once more, the forms of business organization that now
prevail in civilized communities are products of the double
process that has been described. They have sprung up
spontaneously ; but having come into existence, they have
challenged social attention and public opinion, and have
finally been formally authorized, defined, and limited, by
statute law and the decisions of courts.
In both of these processes through which social organi-
zation is created, the essential basis of organization is like-
mindedness, the agreement of the thoughts and feelings of
many individuals which makes practical cooperation possi-
ble. All social organization, accordingly, is an expression
of like-mindedness in the population. As will be ex-
plained presently, peculiarities in the development of social
organization are to be accounted for partly by the passion
of like-minded people to perfect and extend like-mindedness
itself ; that is, to make the community more and more
Social Organization 175
homogeneous in mental and moral qualities ; partly by a
developing appreciation of the value of unlike-mindedness
as a means of variation and progress, and partly by the
combination and reconciliation of these two motives.
Forms of Organization. — Social organization assumes
certain great forms in every society, and these, some of
which were briefly defined in the first chapter, must now
be more fully described.
InstitiUions. — The first distinction to be made among
social forms is one that follows directly from the foregoing
account of the double origin of organization. It is the
distinction between those social arrangements that are
institutions and those that are not. There is no word in
any language that is more carelessly used by writers who
should know better than this word "institutions." An in-
stitution is a social relation that is established by adequate
and rightful authority. The ultimate source of authority
in society is the social mind. Consequently, those forms
of organization, those relations and arrangemeiits which
the social mind has reflected upon, which it has accepted,
allowed, or commanded, — and those only, — are institu-
tions. A band of robbers may be an organization, but it
is not an institution. The social arrangements of a com-
munity of savages are modes of organization, but they are
not institiftions. The historical rise of institutions will be
explained in the chaf)ter on Civilization.
The Social, Composition. — In every community that is
larger than a single family, there is a grouping of indi-
viduals that brings together both sexes and all ages in
those small organizations that we call families, brings
families together in villages, towns, or cities ; brings towns
or cities together in provinces, departments, or common-
1/6 The Elements of Sociology
wealths, and combines the latter in national states. This
plan of organization may be called the social composition
Its chief characteristic is the capacity of each of the com-
ponent groups, whether it be a commonwealth, a city, or
merely a family, to live an independent life and perpetuate
human society if it were cut off from relations with all
other communities in the world. Containing, as each
component group does, both sexes and individuals of more
than one generation, it has all the elements necessary for
the perpetuation of the race, and therefore for the growth
of population and for the evolution of social relations.
The Social Constitution. — A very different form of
grouping and organization, found in each component
society larger than a single family, may be called the
social constitution. This is an organization of the indi-
vidual members of the community into associations, or
groups for carrying on special forms of activity, or main-
taining particular interests. Such associations are busi-
ness partnerships and corporations, political parties,
churches, philanthropic societies, schools, universities,
and scientific associations. Each of these groupings
may be called a constituent society; and it is obvious
that constituent societies — which more often than not
include individuals of one sex only, though not necessarily
so, and are organized only for the special purpose of
carrying on some form of business, political, or intellectual
activity — have in themselves no natural power of self-
perpetuation, and can exist, therefore, only as subdivisions
of component societies.
Public and Private Organization. — Social organization
may be further described as public or private. All compo-
nent societies, except families and unincorporated vil-
^ Social Organization 177
lages, are public organizations. Most constituent societies
are private organizations. Cliief among exceptions is the
state, or supreme political organization.
It is not an easy matter to define tbe exact difference
between public and private organization. The difference
is a legal one, and cannot be perfectly understood without
some knowledge of legal principles. Essentially, however,
it lies in the right to put in motion the coercive power of
the state. The public organization, on the one hand, can
do this directly of its own will. For example, a munici-
pality is a public organization that has received from
the state the authority to organize a police, to make
arrests, and to use force in other ways if necessary to
maintain public order. All this it can do in virtue of the
authority originally conferred upon it, without being
obliged, when the emergency arises, to ask special
permission or seek the special assistance of any higher
power. The private organization, on the other hand, can
put the coercive power of the state in motion only indi-
rectly. If it requires the assistance of legal or military
force, it can obtain it only by applying to a court or to
some public executive authority.
Incorporated and Unincorporated Organizations. — Social
organizations are yet further to be described as incorpo-
rated or unincorporated. The incorporated organization is
one that has been created by the authority of the state.
Its plan of organization has been described by law; its
powers have been fixed by law, and likewise its respon-
sibilities. The incorporated organization may be either
public or private. Municipalities are public organizations;
manufacturing and trading companies are private organi-
zations. A further characteristic of private corporations
178 The Elements of Sociology
»
usually is a limited liability of their individual members.
It is usual, in manufacturing and trading corporations, to
fix an individual liability for indebtedness to the amount
of the individual's stock or ownership, or of some multiple
thereof. When this limit has been fixed by law, it cannot
be exceeded. In a private partnership, on the other hand,
each partner is individually liable for all the debts of the
business.
From what has been said, it will be seen that unincor-
porated organizations are private associations. A village,
if unincorporated, is merely a private body. It has not
received from the state any legal definition or grant of
power, and therefore it has no right, of its own volition,
to put the coercive machinery of the state into operation.
It can do so only through the mediation of courts or other
public authorities. Not all incorporated bodies, however,
are public organizations. Most business corporations are
private organizations. Yet more numerous are the private
organizations that are unincorporated. In civilized com-
munities innumerable societies for all conceivable purposes
have no legal status, and depend entirely upon the volun-
tary support of their individual members. Trade unions
are among the best examples that can be mentioned of
such associations.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Spencer^s "Principles of Sociology," Volume I, Part II, Chap-
ters VI, VII, VIII, and IX. In Lalor's "Cyclopaedia of Political
Science," read Thomas M. Cooley^s article, "Corporations, Law of."
CHAPTER Xyil
Component Societies
Resemblance in Component Societies. — A component society
is wholly or partly a genetic aggregation. The smaller
component groups, including families and sometimes vil-
lages, may be products of genetic aggregation only.
Such larger component societies as cities and common-
wealths are products of genetic aggregation and congre-
gation together.
Therefore, to some extent, the members of a compo-
nent society are of one blood. They share also as much
mental and moral resemblance as is necessary for prac-
tical cooperation. If they are of widely different origins,
their potential resemblance enables them, through assimi-
lation, to approach a common type. Thus, in many par-
ticulars, the members of a component society are alike,
and they have the consciousness of kind. Otherwise,
the group as a social produce could not exist.
In other particulars, however, the members of a com-
ponent society are unlike. In addition to differences of
sex and age,^ and, in the larger groups, of nationality,
there are differences of ability, character, and taste.
By careful observation it is possible to discover what
resemblances are essential in a component society and
what differences are tolerated. Tribal component socie-
ties insist upon kinship. Civil component societies highly
179
i8o The Elements of Sociology
value a common blood, but do not demand it; instead,
they require potential likeness. All component societies
require mental and moral likeness, but, within the limits
of common morality, none insists upon any one point of
mental or moral similarity so long as the aggregate of
resemblances remains large and varied. Subject to these
conditions, the mental and moral differences among the
members of a component society may be of any imagina-
ble kind. So far, then, as mental and moral traits are
concerned, no particular resemblance, but the amount of
resemblance, — the number and variety of points of re-
semblance, — is characteristic of the component society.
Of course, the apparent amount of resemblance that
we find among the members of a component society de-
pends upon the standard of measurement that we adopt.
Likeness and unlikeness, it is not useless to repeat, are
purely relative terms. As compared with the difference
between an Englishman and a Chinaman, the English-
man and the German are alike ; while as compared with
the difference between two Englishmen, the Englishman
and the German are unlike.
For scientific purposes, there are two standards of
comparison that should be referred to in observing the
amount of resemblance among the members of a com-
ponent society. It will be remembered that a component
society is always a part of a larger community which has
been called an integral society. The city is merely one
part of the state or commonweath, and the commonwealth,
merely one part of the nation. If, then, we take the
amount of resemblance existing among all members of
the integral society as a basis of comparison, we discover
that the members of the component society have a greater
Component Societies i8i
amount of resemblance. The members of the smali. group
are on the whole more alike than are all the members of
the group of groups taken together. There is more re-
semblance among the people of Ohiof or of Illinois, or
of Minnesota than there is among all the people of the
United States collectively. From this point of view,
then, the members of a component society have a rela-
tively greater amount of resemblance.
Let us, however, make another comparison. Forming
as well as we can a mental image of the entire people
of a certain town in a particular state, Massachusetts, for
example, let us form another mental image as clear as
possible of all the people of another town in the same
state and of about the same dimensions. These two
mental images we discover are very closely alike. That
is to say, the people of these two towns, when each
group is taken collectively, are seen to be of the same
race and speech, to have each about the same propor-
tion of farmers, tradesmen, mechanics, and professional
men, to have the same religious beliefs, and the same
political preferences. Nevertheless, in each town we find
men of widely different political preferences, widely dif-
ferent religious beliefs, most unlike occupations, and of
different nationalities. We discover, then, that one com-
ponent society, conceived in its entirety, is in type more
like another of similar size and composition, and a part
of the same integral society, than the individual members
of either are like one another in character. As com-
pared, then, with the amount of resemblance manifested
by the population of an integral society, the members of
a component society are alike ; as compared with the
amount of resemblance between one component society
1 82 The El erne Jits of Sociology
and another, the members of a component society are
unlike.
This distinction may seem to be of a merely formal or
theoretical significance, and to have little practical im-
portance. Such, however, is not the truth. The dis-
tinction has played a very great practical part in historical
development. In what way this has happened will appear
presently in the chapter on Civilization.
One practical fact, moreover, must be pointed out
now. Since each component group has the same char-
acteristics as any other group of similar composition and
dimensions, and lives in much the same way, it follows
that component societies mutually aid each other only
in power and mass, and not by a division of labour. The
combination of two or more commonwealths in a federal
union produces a more powerful state, precisely as the
combination of two or more regiments of infantry pro-
duces a more powerful fighting force. The advantage,
moreover, is purely one of power and mass, and not of
the sort that is derived by combining infantry with artil-
lery and cavalry. The advantages due to a division of
labour we owe entirely to the organization of constituent
societies, to be described in the next chapter.
A further and more refined distinction has yet to be
made. While two component societies of the same grade
are more nearly alike in type than the individual members
of either are in character, the individual members of either
are more like one another than they are like the individual
members of any other group. The proof of this is that
so long as perfect freedom to go from place to place and
to choose one's residence exists, families or individuals
that find themselves out of sympathy with the population
Component Societies 183
in which they happen to dwell are in the habit of going
elsewhere and seeking more congenial neighbours. From
this fact follows a sociological truth of great significance.
In the growth of a component society,,.there may always
be discovered a sifting and segregating process which is
tending to bring together the potentially alike, to convert
potential into actual resemblance, and to eliminate those
inharmonious elements that cannot be reconciled with the
prevailing type of character and habit.
Consequently, in the component society, there is always
found a persistent tendency towards homogeneity. With
respect to mental and moral likeness, however, this ten-
dency takes the form of a multiplication of the points of
resemblance rather than of insistence upon any one point
in particular.
Forms of Component Societies. — From these general
characteristics of component societies, we must now pass
on to a more detailed description and analysis. In this
description it will be necessary, for the sake of complete-
ness, to include an account of savage and barbarian
groups, as well as of the component societies of civilized
states.
Families are the simplest component societies. All
human beings, from the lowest savages to civilized men,
live in family groups. But these groups are by no means
always of the kind that we are familiar with in civilized
lands. The simplest form of the human family is a pair-
ing arrangemeht of short duration. Among the Mincopis
of the Andaman Islands, it is customary for the father
to live with the mother until after their child is weaned,
and then to seek another wife. A similar arrangement,
somewhat more stable, but seldom of lifelong duration, is
184 The Elements of Sociology
found among the Blackfellows of Australia, the northern
Eskimo of Greenland, and the Amazonian Indians of
Brazil.
The polyandrian family, in which a woman has several
husbands, is usually found among tribes that have passed
beyond the lowest savagery into the somewhat higher
stage of barbarism. There are two well-marked types
of polyandry, known respectively as Tibetan and Nair.
In Tibetan polyandry, so called because it has been most
carefully studied in Tibet, the husbands are brothers.
This is the commoner form. In Nair polyandry, which
takes its name from a district of southeastern India, the
woman's husbands are not related. Polyandry existed
until recently in Ceylon, in New Zealand, in New Cale-
donia, and elsewhere in the Pacific Islands. It is still
found in the Aleutian Islands, and in many places in
central and northern Asia. It was formerly common
among the Indian tribes on the Orinoco and in the Canary
Islands. Traces of it still remain among the Hottentots
of South Africa, the Damaras, the mountain tribes of the
Bantu, and the Hovas of Madagascar. Polyandry for-
merly prevailed among the Picts and the Irish ; and there
are abundant evidences of its former existence in other
Aryan stocks, and throughout the Semitic and Hamitic
races.
When the Hawaiian Islands were first invaded by
whites, a family organization was discovered which is
called by its Hawaiian name, punaluan. It is constituted
by the marriage of a group of brothers to a group of sis-
ters. Each woman is a wife to all the men, and each man
a husband to all the women. This form still exists among
the Todas of India. .
Component Societies 185
The polygynous family, in which the husband has two
or more wives or concubines, has been, and still is, even
more general than polyandry. This form is often wrongly
called polygamous, a term which mear^ many marriages,
and therefore really includes polyandry, or the plural mar-
riage of one woman to two or more men, as well as polyg-
yny, or the marriage of one man to two or more women.
Polygyny depends upon the ability of the husband to
support a large domestic establishment; and it is there-
fore practically confined to the relatively well-to-do classes
in those communities that tolerate it. It usually happens,
therefore, that in polygynous societies the poorer classes
are either monogamous or polyandrian. Polygyny still
flourishes in China and in Turkey, and only recently
ceased to be a tolerated form of marriage in one of the
territories of the United States.
As societies have advanced in civilization, monogamy,
or the marriage union of one man with one woman, has
everywhere tended to displace polyandry and polygyny.
Theoretically, a monogamous marriage is of lifelong dura-
tion. Actually, however, divorce is nearly everywhere
allowed for various causes ; and the monogamous family
is therefore sometimes unstable.
Ethnical and Demotic Societies. — Component societies
larger than families and composed of aggregations of
families are of two types : the ethnical and the demotic.
Ethnical societies are genetic aggregations. A real or
fictitious blood kinship is their chief social bond. They
are otherwise known as tribal societies, and include all
communities of uncivilized races which maintain a tribal
organization like those, for example, of the North Ameri-
can Indians. Demotic societies, while in some degree
1 86 TJie Elements of Sociology
products of genetic aggregation, are largely congregate
associations. They are groups of people that are bound
together by habitual intercourse, mutual interests, and
cooperation, emphasizing their mental and moral resem-
blance, and giving little heed to origins or genetic relation-
ships. There still survive in various parts of the world
savage and barbarian communiti3s of such varied stages
of social organization that every form of social composi-
tion may still be observed and comparatively studied in
actually existing communities.
Ethnical Societies. — There are three great classes of
ethnical societies now in existence, the classification being
based upon the degree of social composition to which these
societies have attained.
Hordes. — In the lowest class are hordes. This is a
name applied to a small social group composed of a few
families, and comprising not more than from 25 to 100
persons in all. No such horde is anywhere found living
in absolute isolation. It is always in communication with
other similar hordes of the same race, language, and cult-
ure. Under the influence of excitement or fear, or to
share an unusual food supply, or for the purpose of migra-
tion, hordes may temporarily congregate in large numbers ;
but they do not permanently combine with one another under
the leadership of a common chief for military or political
action, and there is no organization of a religious or indus-
trial character that binds them together in a larger whole.
Examples of clusters of hordes not compacted into any
larger organization are the Veddahs of Ceylon, the Min-
copis of the Andaman Islands in the Bay of Bengal, the
Australian Blackfellows, the Bushmen of South Africa,
the Fuegians of Terra del Fuego, the Innuit of the north-
Compofient Societies 187
eastern and northwestern coasts of North America, the
Utes of the Rocky Mountains, and the Indians of the
Amazonian forests.
Tribes. — In the second class of ethnical societies are ^
all communities in which several hordes have become
welded into a larger and more definitely organized society,
occupying a defined territory, speaking one language or
dialect, and conscious of its unity, or in which a single
horde, grown to many times its original size, has become
differentiated and organized. The smallest united and
organized society that is composed of lesser social groups
that are themselves larger than single families, is the tribe.
The word "tribe" is often used inaccurately. It should
never be applied to a single horde, or even to a cluster of
hordes. A tribe is always sufficiently organized to have a
military leader or chief.
Confederations. — In the third class of ethnical societies I
are confederations of tribes united for warlike and some-
times for other purposes, but still maintaining a social
organization on the basis of kinship, and therefore not
developed into civil or true political states. The famous
federation of the Iroquois Indians in the state of New
York, in which five, afterwards six, tribes were bound
together in a powerful military league, was an excellent
example of this grade of social composition among ethni-
cal societies. The confederations of Prankish, Burgun-
dian, and other German tribes that overran the Roman
Empire were likewise good examples of the same grade
of social composition. A coherent aggregation or con-
federation of tribes is properly called a folk or ethnic
nation.
Metronymy and Patronymy. — It is necessary to distin- <i
1 88 The Elements of Sociology
guish between two different types of ethnical organization,
one of which is older than the other.
The older may be named metronymic. In a metro-
nymic group all the relationships are traced through
mothers; relationships on the father's side are ignored.
Every metronymic social group is named from some class
of natural objects, such as a species of plant or animal,
which is thought of as feminine in gender, and from
which the group is supposed to have sprung. A class
of objects so regarded is known among ethnologists as a
totem, which is approximately its American Indian name.
The totem is worshipped as possessing divine powers,
and as maintaining a special protective oversight of the
group; and the group in turn protects the totem from
harm. No animal or plant of the totemic class can be
slain or used for food.
The later type of social organization may be called
the patronymic. Each patronymic group is named from
\ a real or fictitious male ancestor, and relationships are
traced in the male line through fathers. Each of these
types, the metronymic and the patronymic, may be ob-
served in an early and simple form, in which a single
tribe is the largest social organization, and in a later,
compound form, in which several tribes are confederated,
and at length are consolidated into a folk.
Metronymic Tribes. — By far the best organized metro-
nymic tribes that have as yet been studied by ethnologists
are the North American Indians. The typical Indian
tribe is differentiated into exogamous totemic kindreds.
That is to say, it is made up of groups, each of which
traces relationships through mothers, and in each of
which marriage between its own members is forbidden.
^
Component Societies . 189
Any marriage within the tribe must be between a man of
one totemic kindred and a woman of some other kindred.
This obligation to marry out of the kindred is called ex-
ogamy. Each totemic kindred is nevertheless supposed
to be distantly related to all the other totemic kindreds in
the tribe. Each kindred has certain governing arrange-
ments, including a council, a sachem or peace officer, and
a war chief.
Examples of metronymic tribes in other parts of the
world are the two tribes of the Damaras in South Africa,
the Congo tribes of West Africa, the Inland Negroes,
the Kasias of Bengal, the Tahitians and Tongans of
Polynesia, and the Hovas of Madagascar.
Among examples of the metronymic folk or tribal
nation, the Iroquois Confederation has already been men-
tioned. Other examples have been the Tongans and
the Malagasy.
Patronymic Tribes. — There is no doubt that many of
the patronymic tribal organizations were originally metro-
nymic. Kinships were originally reckoned through moth-
ers in Egypt, Arabia, and Palestine ; among the Germans ;
and probably among the Greeks.
Among well-known historical examples of patronymic
organizations were those of the Hebrews, the Greeks, the
Romans, and the Germans. The plan of organization did
not differ from that of such metronymic tribes as the
North American Indians, except in so far as it was affected
by the practice of tracing relationships through fathers
instead of through mothers. Each tribe was divided into
kindred groups originally exogamous, although in course
of time they tended to become endogamous, that is, to per-
mit or require marriage between members of the same
IQO The Elements of Sociology
kindred. In the Greek tribes, the kindred group was
known as the 76^09, in the Roman tribe as the gens. In
this book the word " gens " will be used in speaking of
kindreds of the Roman tribe, the word " totem-kin " in
speaking of metronymic kindred, and the word " clan " as
a general term to include both totemic kindred and gentes.
Among existing patronymic tribes and confederations of
tribes are the Santals of the western mountains of Lower
Bengal, the Ostyaks who inhabit the dreary northern
country of the banks of the Obi, the Kaffirs, Bechuanas,
and Hottentots of South Africa.
Demotic Societies. — The composition of demotic socie-
ties has already been incidentally described. The compo-
nent societies of demotic communities or civilized states
include families, neighbourhoods, hamlets or villages, par-
ishes, towns, communes, cities, counties, provinces or de-
partments, commonwealths, and federal nations.
Origin of the Social Composition. — To a great extent all
degrees of social composition beyond the family and the
horde are products of the deliberative action of the social
jnind. The federation of tribes, or of states, is effected
by the social mind under the pressure of external necessi-
ties, especially those of defence and aggression. When
integration has been accomplished, a certain internal ne-
cessity obliges the social mind to maintain the union after
its original purpose has been achieved. The consciousness
of kind is the compelling power. The social mind puts
its impress on each component group and moulds it into
conformity with a certain type. Thus, in a given commu-
nity, every variety of the family may have existed at the
outset or may, from time to time, appear. But the social
mind gives approval to some one type only, — for example,
Component Societies 191
the monogamic, — and prohibits or discountenances all
others. In like manner, in the commonwealth each com-
ponent town, and in the federal state each component
commonwealth, is compelled to conform to a type or
standard.
Thus the social composition is a psychological rather
than a physical fact. So viewed, it may be described as an
alliance, in each component group, of individuals who in
many points are alike, but who tolerate in one another
particular differences; supplemented by an alliance of
like types and a non-toleration of unlike types among
component groups.
This truth admits of a more fundamental statement in
which the law of social composition is disclosed. While
much actual resemblance of individuals to one another is
necessary in the component group, and a greater actual
resemblance of group types to one another is necessary
throughout the social composition, a yet greater potential
resemblance is necessary among both individuals and
types. The social composition, then, is formed by the
mutual attraction of the like, and non-toleration of the
unlike ; except to the extent that the actually unlike are
so far potentially alike as to admit of continuing assimila-
tion. As the integration of the like proceeds, the social
mind becomes aware of the process, deliberately approves
it, and by all possible means furthers it. The social mind
does this because it develops within itself a passion for
homogeneity of type, and a judgment of the usefulness
of integration or federation, as a defensive and offensive
measure.
We therefore may say that the social composition is
produced by the reciprocal attractiveness of like for like.
192 The Elements of Sociology
and is developed by the passion for homogeneity and in-
tegration, through an effort to combine the potentially
with the actually alike, and to create a common type,
f^ The Law of Development of the social composition is :
The social composition develops in proportion to the in-
tensity and scope of the passion for homogeneity,
PARALLEL STUDY
Make shaded or coloured maps, showing the social composition of
the United States and of the British Empire.
CHAPTER XVIII '
Constituent Societies
Resemblance in Constituent Societies. — Any association
organized for carrying on a particular activity, or for
achieving some special social end, is a constituent society.
This name is descriptive because such associations collec-
tively, when harmoniously correlated so that they supple-
ment one another's functions, are the social constitution
of the community. Collectively, they carry on the greater
part of the diversified social activities. Since the constit-
uent society has a defined object in view, it is purposive
in character. Its members are supposed to be aware of
its object and to put forth effort for its attainment.
Membership in a constituent society is not an incident
of birth. New members are admitted into a purposive
association only by their own consent and by the permis-
sion of members. Where members seem to enter it by
birth, as in a church which claims the children of mem-
bers, it is not kinship, but a claim, consciously made and
allowed, that is the true ground of the membership rela-
tion. Therefore purposive associations have no indepen-
dent existence. They depend on one another, and they
presuppose the social composition. They are found only
within a comprehensive autogenous or integral society.
The facts of resemblance to be observed in the member-
ship of a constituent society are precisely the opposite of
those observed in the membership of a component society.
o 193
194 The Elements of Sociology
Component societies are more alike in type than their
members are in character. The members of a constituent
society are more alike with reference to the purpose that
unites them than are any two associations. The members
of a given trade union, for example, with reference to the
objects of organized labour are more alike than are any
two equally accessible and efficient unions. Were this
not so, the differing members would join other organiza-
tions. No two churches resemble each other so closely
in feeling and belief as do the actually cooperating mem-
bers of any given church. The members of trade unions
collectively, or of churches collectively, resemble each
other more than trade unions in general resemble churches
in general. The members of business corporations collec-
tively or of scientific societies collectively resemble each
other more closely than the scientific societies resemble
the business corporations.
Furthermore, of the three great modes of resemblance ;
namely, kinship, mental and moral similarity, and poten-
tial likeness, it is the first and the third that are chiefly
prominent and most insisted on in the component society.
It is the second, or actual mental and moral resemblance
for the time being, that is most conspicuous and most
insisted on in the constituent society. The component
society, if relatively homogeneous in race and nationality,
and if certain that its differing elements are undergoing
assimilation to a common type, may tolerate much diver-
sity of mental and moral traits, indeed must do so if it is
to have a social constitution and a division of labour. The
passion for homogeneity which it manifests is the desire
to maintain a general homogeneity of blood, or at least
to assimilate the different elements of nationality and
Constituent Societies 1 95
speech to a common kind, and to mould the traditional
beliefs to a common type. It is in matters of detail
that it is willing to tolerate difference. In the constitu-
ent society, it is precisely a matter of detail that is of
chief concern. In constituent societies, therefore, like-
ness of nationality and potential resemblance may, to a
great extent, be ignored ; but actual agreement of mind
and character upon the specific object for which the
association exists is required.
Finally, as each association in the social constitution
does a specific work, it may be said to have a social func-
tion. From this point of view, purposive grouping may
be described as functional association. The combination
of purposive associations is, therefore, a coordination ; and
their mutual aid is not limited by a mere increase of mass
and power. It is effected also through a division of labour.
Distribution and Forms of Constituent Societies. — In the
lowest bands of savage men, there are no constituent
societies. There is much cooperation, but there is no
specialized cooperative group for systematically carrying
on any particular activity. There is no business corpora-
tion, no religious fraternity or church, no political party.
In tribal societies there are slight beginnings of purposive
association and a few simple constituent societies. The
fact of chief significance to be observed in the study of the
social constitution of tribal societies is the relation of the
social constitution to the social composition. The constitu-
ent societies are not quite distinct from the component
societies as they are in civilized communities. On the
contrary, they are often merely the component societies
themselves acting in a particular way, at a particular time,
for a particular purpose ; as if a village in a civilized coun-
r
196 The Elements of Sociology
try should, on a special occasion, forget that it is a village
— a component society — and resolve itself into a hunting
party, or a public meeting, or a "committee of the whole,"
to celebrate a great event or to enjoy a festival. From
the careful study of these facts of tribal society an impor-
tant sociological truth is discovered ; namely, that in social
evolution constituent societies grow out of and are differ-
entiated from component societies through a specializa-
tion of function.
The Household. — The simplest example is found in the
household, which is an organization nearly, but not quite,
identical with the family. The family, a unit in the social
composition, is a genetic aggregation. The household is
a purposive group composed of those individuals who live
together in a dwelling and cooperate in economic activity,
obtaining and preparing food, and manufacturing clothing,
tools, and utensils. Commonly, but not always, the mem-
bers of a family and the members of a household are iden-
tical. Individual members of a family may leave their
own household group to dwell elsewhere ; and the house-
hold may include members who are not of the family kin-
dred. Therefore, while the family is a component society,
the household, strictly speaking, is a constituent society or
purposive association.
The Clan. — Still more complicated in its functions is
the clan, whether it be the totem-kin of a metronymic
tribe or the gens of a patronymic tribe. The clan is in-
cluded in the social composition. It is also an important
part of the social constitution. It is a genetic organization
because all its members, in reality or nominally, are de-
scended from a common ancestor or ancestral group. Yet
it never contains all of such descendants. If the clan is
Constituent Societies 197
metronymic, it includes all sons and daughters of the
women born into the clan, but never the sons and daugh-
ters of the men born into the clan, since descent is reck-
oned through mothers, and marriage is e^pgamous, and the
sons and daughters of the men, therefore, necessarily
belong to the clans of their mothers. If the clan is
patronymic, these conditions are reversed.
It is easier for us to form an accurate idea of the patro-
nymic than of the metronymic clan, because it is our own
practice to trace descent through fathers. Let the student
think of a particular family name, Johnson, for example,
and remember that descendants of all male Johnsons bear
the Johnson name ; but that the descendants of female
Johnsons bear other family names — those of the men
whom the female Johnsons marry. All persons, then,
whether male or female, who bear, or before marriage have
borne, the name of Johnson, may be said to belong to the
Johnson clan.
To form a true mental picture of the metronymic clan
or totem-kin as it has existed in North American Indian
tribes, the student must simply remember that names de-
scend through mothers instead of through fathers ; and
that all persons, male or female, who, by right of birth,
bear the mother name, belong to the mother clan ; while
all descendants in the male line bear the names of the
mother clans into which the men have married.
The clan of the savage tribe is thus an incomplete
genetic association. As a component society, it is imper-
fect because of its exclusion of one-half of a common an-
cestry. This very imperfection as a component society,
however, is the cause of its specialization of function as a
constituent society. The clan is a purposive association
198 The Elements of Sociology
that enforces rights and obligations, and cherishes the
juridical tradition. The organization and functions of
an Iroquois clan revealed the true characteristics of clan
responsibilities and activities with great clearness. Each
Iroquois clan had an elected sachem, whose duties were
essentially those of a petty justice. He interpreted and
administered the juridical traditions of the clan. The
clan had also a council which discussed and determined
all matters of policy. All clansmen and clanswomen had
the right to vote in electing or deposing the officers of
the clan. All were forbidden to marry within the clan.
All were bound by the obligation to help and defend a
fellow-clansman and to avenge his injuries. All shared
in the right to bear the clan's totemic name, to inherit
the property of deceased members, and to adopt strangers
into the clan. All participated in the common religious
observances, and all had rights in the common burial
place.
Other Tribal Associations. — In addition to the house-
hold and the clan, other simple constituent associations
are always to be found in tribal societies. Usually there
are many secret associations which have religious func-
tions. The tribe itself is a military organization, usually
presided over by a council of chieftains who have been
the successful leaders of war parties.
The Constitution of Civil Societies. — In civil societies,
the social constitution is completely developed and, in the
main, is separated from the social composition, although the
separation is never complete at all points. Moreover, in
civil society, composition is subordinated to the social
constitution ; while in tribal society the social constitu-
tion is but incidental to the composition.
Constituent Societies 199
The chief purposive organization of civil society is the
state, through which the social mind dominates the inte-
gral community, prescribes forms and obligations to all
minor purposive associations, and shapes the social com-
position. Coordinating all activities and relations, the
state maintains conditions under which all its subjects
may live, as Aristotle said, "a perfect and self-sufficing
life."
Subordinate to the state, which touches every interest
and action of its members, are private purposive associa
tions of narrower range and with more specialized func
tions. A French sociologist, M. Fouillee, has said
"Imagine a great circle within which are lesser circles
combining in a thousand ways to form the most varied
figures without overstepping the limits that enclose them
this is an image of the great association of the state and
of the particular associations that it embraces."
The private associations are of four classes. Those of
one class are directly concerned with political interests.
Independent of the government, they make governments
and unmake them. The principal associations of this
class are the political parties. In a second class are pri-
vate organizations that assume juristic functions, usually,
but not always, in violation of law. Such are vigilance
committees, the Ku-Klux Klans, and the White Caps.
In the third class are the various organizations of indus-
trial society which provide for the physical needs of life
and adjust the changing relations of want and satisfaction.
In the fourth class are all organizations that occupy them-
selves with matters of emotion, sentiment, imagination,
thought, and conduct. These are the cultural associa-
tions whose object is to foster mental and moral develop-
200 The Elements of Sociology
ment and to promote happiness. They include the church
and its allied organizations, philanthropic societies, scien-
tific and educational associations, and innumerable organi-
zations for social pleasure.
Every purposive association has not only a function but
also a composition and a constitution which are adapted
to the performance of the function.
In the composition of purposive associations, individuals
are combined as persons and by categories ; for example,
the categories of employer and employ^, in the compo-
sition of an industrial group. The composition of associa-
tions must be studied with reference to the common trait
or interest that unites their members.
The constitution of a purposive association is the plan
of organization of its membership. The categories of in-
dividuals which compose it are combined in accordance
with some principle of subordination or codrdination ; and
the entire membership may be divided into sub-societies,
bureaus, or committees.
The organization of a voluntary purposive association
has further to be described as secret or open. Secrecy
and a rigorous exercise of authority over members are
conspicuous features of purposive associations in savage
tribes, and hardly less so in the great Oriental empires of
China, Farther India, and Persia. In mediaeval days, they
marked the social organization of western Europe ; but
they are now exceptional there, and are rare in the United
States if the whole number of organizations is taken into
account. Perhaps no more interesting contrast than this
exists in the social systems of America and China. Amer-
ica is sociologically a vast plexus of free associations, most
of which are perfectly open in their objects and methods.
Constituent Societies 201
China is a social network of oath-bound secret societies,
whose members are under threat of mutilation or death
if they reveal the mysteries of their fraternities. There
is probably some close connection between such a con-
trast and the relative predominance of economic associa-
tion in the West, and of religious, fraternal, and defensive
association in the East.
The State. — The composition of the state includes sub-
jects and members. All who dwell within the territorial
boundaries of an independent state are its subjects, and
must obey its authority and laws. Not all subjects of the
state, however, are in any true sense members of it,
although it is a very common error to assume that they
are. Only those who share in the consciousness of the
state and who, by their loyalty and their willing aid, con-
tribute to its authority and power, are truly members.
The rebel and the traitor and the criminal are in the
state ; but they are not of it.
Therefore, in the composition of the state, individuals
are combined by categories. These categories are : first,
the subjects of authority; second, the makers of moral
authority ; third, the makers of legal authority ; and, fourth,
the agents of legal authority. All who share in the con-
sciousness of the state and freely Contribute their thought
and effort to it are makers of authority in a general sense,
that is, of moral authority. It is this general or moral
authority which is ultimately embodied in law and in the
political organization. But not all who help to create
moral authority actually help to convert it into legal forms
The makers of legal authority are those who legally ex
ercise the franchise, and, by their votes, authorize the
legal acts of the state. The electors of the state are thus
202 The Elements of Sociology
a very definite purposive association within an association
that is larger and less definite ; and, as in all other pur-
posive associations that are definite in form, new members
are admitted to the electorate only by the consent of
members.
The agents of legal authority are those whom the
electors authorize to put their will into final form and
execution. Collectively, the agents of legal authority are
the government.
Constitution of the State. — In the constitution of the
state, the most important subordinate bodies are the public
corporations. The state first incorporates itself, defining
its territory and its membership, describing its organiza-
tion, and laying upon itself the rules of procedure by
which it will systematically conduct its affairs. It next,
in like manner, incorporates the local subdivisions of so-
ciety, such as counties, townships, and cities, and assigns
to each certain rights, duties, and powers. The remaining
subordinate organizations of the state are found within
the public corporations. They consist of parliamentary
and legislative bodies to initiate the formulation of law ;
of courts to complete the formulation of law ; and of execu-
tive bureaus, boards, and commissions.
The Functions of the State are coextensive with human
interests. This, at least, is what they are in fact. From
time to time, political philosophy has attempted to prove
that the functions of the state ought to be limited to
a comparatively narrow sphere, leaving all other things
to individual initiative and voluntary organization. The
sociologist is concerned with the functions of the state,
however, as they actually appear in existing^ communities
and in history.
Constittient Societies 203
The primary purpose of the state is to perfect social
integration. To this end it maintains armies and carries
on diplomacy to protect the nation against aggression,
or to enlarge its territory and population ^ and it maintains
tribunals and police to enforce peace within its own
borders. The first business of legislatures, courts, and
executives is to combine, defend, and harmonize social
groups, classes, individuals, and interests.
Inevitably, however, the performance of this work car-
ries the state into economic activities. All modern states
coin money. To a very great extent, credit and banking
operations are controlled by governments. States inter-
fere with values also by legislation and taxation, sometimes
on a vast scale, as in the complicated protective tariff
systems of the United States, Germany, and France. All
states put the chief means of comm.unication namely, the
postal system, under the management of the government.
As yet, the railroad systems of the world are operated
chiefly by private corporations. In all states, however,
the business of railroads is being more and more closely
regulated by the government ; and in many parts of Eu-
rope railroads have become government property.
Not less inevitable is it that states should assume cult-
ural functions. The members of the state see that social
cohesion is a spiritual union rather than an external com-
pulsion, and that it depends upon the ideas of individuals.
They believe it to be as necessary to guide the minds of
men as it is to suppress crime and insurrection. Rightly
or wrongly, they believe also that the guidance will be
inadequate or pernicious unless the state itself is the su-
preme guide. Every state, therefore, maintains either
institutions of religion, like the Greek church of Russia,
204 The Elements of Sociology
or an elaborate system of education, like that of the United
States or of France. Occasionally a state, like England
or Prussia, succeeds in maintaining side by side a state
religion and a state instruction ; but it is generally recog-
nized that such a policy creates a condition of unstable
equilibrium. Every state in these days recognizes obliga-
tions to literature, science, and art, and undertakes to dis-
charge them by supporting universities, and such insti-
tutions as the French Academy and the numerous scientific
bureaus of the United States, and by maintaining libraries,
museums, and galleries of art.
Voluntary Associations. — The assumption that the state
has only functions of defence and arbitration is not more
erroneous than the common assumption that voluntary
organization has only economic and cultural functions.
Voluntary organization is coextensive with every mode of
human activity.
Political Associations. — The most important of all
voluntary organizations are political associations. The
state, so far from being the only political organization,
could not exist in a free or republican form were there not
voluntary and private political associations.
In the composition of political associations, men of like
views and like interests are allied. It is a great mistake,*
however, to suppose that a purely intellectual agreement
upon specific matters of common interest is the chief bond
of union in a political party. The real bond is the con-
sciousness of kind in its entirety, including sympathies,
instincts, agreement in beliefs, and other forms of emotion
and prejudice that unite men in political action. Most
men adhere to the political party in which they have been
reared, not from conviction, but from liking. A monarch-
Constituent Societies 205
ist knows that another monarchist is in instinct like himself,
and that a republican is not. Their differences are far
more in matters of sympathy than in matters of opinion.
No one fact in American history is so significant as the
persistency with which Federalists, Whigs, and Republi-
cans have contemplated themselves as a different kind of
beings from Democrats. Opinion and interest are never-
theless important factors of political association. No
political party is as homogeneous as it would be if the
sympathetic and sentimental elements of the conscious-
ness of kind were its sole animating power. In every
political association there are men of unlike natures who
are united by identity of opinions or by community of
interests. The heterogeneity of political association is
further increased by the necessary combination of leader-
ship and following.
The constitution of voluntary political associations
assumes the forms of secret societies, non-secret but
exclusive clubs, and open associations. Secret societies
and cabals are characteristic of states in which liberty is
imperfectly developed, and in which, therefore, all criticism
of the government and all private initiative are dangerous.
Political agitation in Russia and in the Danubian states
to-day is carried on largely through secret societies as it
was in France during the Revolution and in England dur-
ing the seventeenth century. In lands where freedom of
discussion is upheld by law, secret association in politics is
resorted to only by criminals, revolutionists, and other men
who fear to fight in the open. The anarchistic agitation
in Europe and in America has naturally' been conducted
through secret societies.
Non-secret but exclusive clubs, combining political with
2o6 The Elements of Sociology
social functions, have long been a form of voluntary polit-
ical organization, and have at times played an important
part in public affairs. The Union League Clubs that were
founded in the large American cities during the Civil War
have been good examples of this kind of political organiza-
tion.
In countries that enjoy freedom under constitutional
guarantee, however, the active work of politics is chiefly
carried on by those open associations, called political
parties, to which all votejs desiring in good faith to join
them are welcomed. The great political parties of Eng-
land and the United States are the largest, they are also
the most mobile and efficient of voluntary organizations.
Each includes among its adherents men of every degree of
mental evolution, of almost every nationality, and of every
pursuit. Each is so perfectly distributed over a vast area
that it counts voters in every hamlet of the national
domain. It is exceptional when either of the leading
parties of the United States fails in a presidential election
to poll one-quarter of the total vote of any commonwealth.
A great political party stands for a general way of look-
ing at public affairs, and of dealing with them, rather than
for any single interest. It is controlled more by class
feeling than by political philosophy ; and inasmuch as the
interests of a class do not remain unchanged throughout a
long term of years, a great political party is never continu-
ously identified with a particular policy, although there is a
widespread popular belief that it is. The natural nucleus
of one great political party in every country is the middle
class of business men engaged in manufactures and com-
merce. The interests of commercialism and capitalism
always dictate the policy of the party to which the busi-
Constituent Societies 207
ness classes belong. The opposing party is quite as
naturally constituted by an alliance of the land-owning,
professional, and wage-earning classes.
These groupings, however, form only the core of each
great political party. Only the members of a political party
that are bound to it by the sympathetic and instinctive
elements of the consciousness of kind, in other words, by
class instinct and prejudice, can be depended upon to vote
its ticket under all vicissitudes. The men who join it from
conviction or from interest leave it from time to time as
their interests change or as the party fails to support the
policy which they regard as right. Therefore, while
parties are relatively enduring, majorities are the most
unstable products of human combination.
Second in importance only to the great political parties,
are the minor parties, that work for the achievement of
particular ends. Since by their very nature the great
parties care less for principles or measures than for class
interests, principles and measures have to be forced upon
them from without. Consequently, two or three parties
with one idea apiece are always in the field. They seldom
win an election ; but they often gain a hearing and con-
cessions. They spring up suddenly, grow with astonish-
ing rapidity, and as quickly melt away. Such were the
Anti-Masonic Party of 183 1, the Liberty Party of 1840,
and the Free-Soil Party of 1848, which were merged into
the Republican Party of i860, the Know-Nothing Party
of 1856, the Prohibition Party of 1872, the Greenback
Party of 1876, and the People's Party of 1892.
The evils of partisanship and of corruption in legislation,
and the spoils system of administration, have called into
existence numerous associations to promote patriotism and
208 The Elements of Sociology
to secure honesty in governmental affairs. Best known
among these are the Civil Service Reform Association
and its branches, and important organizations in most of
the great cities for promoting local municipal reforms.
In addition to all the foregoing there are innumerable
political associations to promote particular interests, to
protect particular classes, or to procure particular legis-
lation. Some of them are permanently organized ; but .
most of them are short lived.
The functions of voluntary political organizations may
be revolutionary or legal. In the nature of things, revo-
lution can be achieved only through voluntary associations.
If not so obvious, it is just as certain that a republican
form of government^ can be maintained only through the
tireless and infinitely varied activity of voluntary political
associations that keep within the bounds of law. They
initiate legislation, they criticise administration, they
achieve reforms. Every one understands that govern-
ments do not criticise and reform themselves. It is,
perhaps, not so generally known that, in modern times,
governments initiate but little legislation. A few impor-
tant measures are proposed by cabinet ministers, govern-
ors, and presidents ; but more are instigated by voluntary
associations whose agents draft bills, procure their intro-
duction in Legislature, Congress, or Parliament, and watch
them through every stage of progress to final enactment
or rejection. Without such associations, there could be
no republic in the true sense of the word. The alternative
is bureaucracy or absolute monarchy.
Juristic Associations. — Private associations that assume
juristic functions are of two clasSbs.
The largest class is composed of lawless organizations
Constituent Societies 209
that spring into existence in the absence of legally con-
stituted courts, or when courts fail to do their duty in
protecting property and life. It is usually the lawless
and violent element in the population that enters into the
composition of illegal or non-legal juristic organizations.
The other class of private juristic associations includes
organizations to arbitrate disputes or to adjust pecuniary
claims. Voluntary boards of arbitration are not infre-
quently established to deal with disputes of an essentially
juristic character between employer and employed. In
this class of organizations, also, must be included legally
incorporated associations whose function is to promote
the enforcement of law in respect to particular classes of
interests. Among such are various organizations for pre-
venting cruelties to children or to animals, for enforcing
temperance legislation, sanitary laws, and municipal ordi-
nances.
Economic Associations. — Private economic associations,
as a rule, are ^^omposed of individuals of like ability and
training. In economic organization less than elsewhere
in society do the sympathetic, instinctive, and emotional
elements of the consciousness of kind determine alliances.
Intellectual agreement in notions of utility is the control-
ling principle. Yet even in economic organization race
and national prejudices have their influence. In the
United States they are the cause of the refusal of white
artisans in both the North and the South to work with
negroes, and the practical exclusion of the negro from
mechanical trades.
The categories of employer and employed do not usually
enter into the composition^f the same association. They
are combined in industrial groups, which unite two or more
p
210 The Elements of Sociology
associations ; as, for example, in a manufacturing group
that includes a partnership or a corporation as the entre-
preneur, and members of several trade unions as em-
ployes.
The constitution of private economic associations takes
the form of partnerships, corporations, and miscellaneous
associations not incorporated. Partnerships, with an un-
limited liability of each partner and a limited capital, are
adapted only to small enterprises. To the evolution of
the corporation with its limited liability of the individual
stockholder, its control of capital by the massing of indi-
vidual accumulations, and its command of the services
of men of superior ability, we owe the gigantic industrial
undertakings of modern times.
Of unincorporated associations with economic functions,
the most important are the trusts and labour organizations.
Practically every industry is controlled or affected by
combinations that attempt to regulate production and
prices. Some of these combinations are mere agreements,
while others are somewhat elaborate organizations, with
power to impose strict conditions upon individual pro-
ducers, and to enforce penalties against disobedience.
Among wage-earners' associations, the American Fed-
eration of Labour is a good example of complex yet flexible
and efficient organization.
The study of the functions of private economic associa-
tion falls within the special social science of Political
Economy. The functions include the production of goods
in agriculture, mining, and manufacturing, by means of
industrial groups that range in complexity from the com-
bination of the individual employer and his workmen to
the association of great corporations and their thousands
Constituent Societies 211
of organized employes acting as a unit. They include
also the transportation and exchange of goods by means
of railways, steamships, and express companies, and by
mercantile partnerships and corporations ; the equilibration
of values through ordinary markets, through such special
markets as produce and stock exchanges, and through
banking organizations ; the accumulation of capital and
the provision against want by means of institutions for
saving, insurance, and mutual aid ; and, finally, economic
aggression and defence, through the mechanism of trusts
and trade unions.
Cultural Associations. — In the composition of private^
cultural associations, there is an alliance of persons of like
beliefs, tastes, and natures. It is usually the professed
purpose of cultural associations to make belief or taste the
condition of membership ; but this ideal is never realized.
The sympathetic elements of the consciousness of kind
are always present to unite some whose beliefs differ and
to sunder some whose beliefs agree. The constitution of
cultural associations requires no special description. It
takes the form either of corporations or of unincorporated
societies, secret or open. The functions of cultural asso-
ciation are religious, philanthropic, scientific and educa-
tional, aesthetic and pleasurable.
The church as a voluntary organization may exist in a
country like England that has an established religion ; but
it can attain its complete development only in a country
where state and church are completely separated, as in
the United States.
The religious population of a country is organized also
in a bewildering number of special associations. These
include the monastic orders and societies of the Roman
/
212 The Elements of Sociology
Catholic church, and the missionary and other societies of
the Protestant denominations.
To a great extent, private philanthropic organizations
have assumed that care of the unfortunate which formerly
was exercised by the church. They are as many and as
varied as human ills ; and no complete enumeration of
them has ever been made. Among those especially worth
studying are Charity Organization Societies, the National
Conference of Charities and Correction, the National
Prison Congress, and the university and other social settle-
ments modelled more or less closely on the Toynbee Hall
experiment which was begun in East London in 1885.
Large as is the field occupied by government scientific
bureaus, state universities, and public schools, fully one-
half of all scientific and educational activity is carried on
through private organizations ; namely, the national and
local learned bodies, the private schools, and the denomi-
national colleges. In the United States, every branch of
research, from physics, chemistry, and astronomy to philol-
ogy and folk-lore, is fostered by an association. A large
majority of the 451 degree-conferring colleges and univer-
sities are private foundations ; and the larger part of their
nearly ;^ 100,000,000 of productive funds has been given to
them by individuals.
Fraternal societies usually combine mutual aid with
social pleasure, as do for example the Free Masons and
the Odd Fellows. Associations for the promotion of art
or music often serve no other end. Social clubs some-
times become active political organizations. But in gen-
eral, the chief objects of all these organizations are
personal culture and social enjoyment.
Generalizations. — Certain generalizations may be d©
Constituent Societies 213
rived from the foregoing account of the social constitu-
tion. The most important of these has been disclosed in
the discovery that governments and private organizations
duplicate each other's functions. In the social constitu-
tion, either public or private associations can, at need,
assume any social function. In times of danger the gov-
ernment can operate fleets and railways, build bridges,
manufacture goods, and transact financial operations on a
vast scale because, in times of security, it often does such
things on a small scale. In times of anarchy or revolu-
tion, private associations can protect life and property,
administer justice, and organize a provisional government ;
because in times of peace they initiate legislation, watch
the enforcement of law, and hold governments to their
work.
This generalization is of practical no less than of scien-
tific value. It is the one adequate principle by which to
judge the pretensions of socialism and of individuahsm.
The socialists are right when they say that, if it were
necessary or desirable, the state could carry on all social
undertakings through public agencies. The individualists
are equally right when they say that society could exist
and, after a fashion, could achieve its ends without authori-
tative government. Socialists and individualists are both
wrong when they suppose that either of these things will
happen under a normal social evolution.
The actual distribution of functions between public and
private agencies is a varying one. It changes with chang-
ing circumstances. So long as conditions are normal,
movements that tend, on the one hand, to increase public
activity or, on the other hand, to enlarge the opportunities
for private initiative, are self-limiting. They are tenden-
214 The Elements of Sociology
cies towards equilibrium. Whatever belittles the state or
destroys belief in its power to perform any kind of social
service, whatever impairs the popular habit of achieving
ends by private initiative and voluntary organization, en-
dangers society and prevents the full realization of its
ends.
Another generalization from the description of the social
constitution is that the various organizations of society
are not only correlated, but are also subordinated, some
to other organizations, and all to a general end. The
supreme end of society in general is the protection and
perfecting of sentient life. The end of human society is
the development of the rational and spiritual personality of
its members. Only the cultural associations are immediately
concerned in this function. Educational institutions, reli-
gious, scientific, ethical, and aesthetic organizations, and
polite society act for good or ill directly upon the individ-
ual. To these the economic, the legal, and the political
organization are, in a functional sense, subordinate. In a
functional sense, they exist for the sake of cultural organi-
zation and activity. The social mind has always perceived
this truth, and by means of its sanctions has endeavoured
to mould the social constitution into accordance with it.
Associations and relationships are fostered or abolished
with a view to cultural no less than to protective ends.
For both ends specialization and a division of labour are
necessary. Therefore, while society maintains the homo-
geneity of its composition, it is obliged to tolerate and to
promote differentiation in its constitution. Psychologi-
cally, therefore, the social constitution is the precise
opposite of the social composition. It is an alliance, in
each simple association, of individuals who, in respect to
Constituent Societies 215
±e purpose of the association, must be mentally and
morally alike, but who in all other respects may be unlike ;
supplemented in the relations of associations to one an-
other and to integral society by toleration and coordina-
tion of the unlike.
Law of Development. — Still further generalizing, we
may state the law of development of the social constitution
as follows :
The development of the social constitution depends upon ^ I
the growth of an appreciation of the value of variety or
unlikeness in society.
The social constitution, therefore, is the result of a
desire to combine variety with homogeneity in a complex
unity.
PARALLEL STUDY
Make an analytical table, showing the social constitution of a famil-
iar local community. Read Bryce's '• American Commonwealth," Part
VI. From Webb's " History of Trade Unionism " prepare a sketch of
labour organizations.
CHAPTER XIX
The Character and Efficiency of Organization
Coercion and Liberty. — The forms of social organization,
whether component or constituent, whether public or pri-
vate, whether incorporated or unincorporated, are either
created by social authority or are permitted by it. Not
only so, but any social organization may be an agency
for the transmission of social control to its individual
members. On the one hand, it may bring to bear upon
them a social pressure to which they must yield, a social
command which they must perforce obey. On the other
hand, it may allow them the utmost freedom of thought
and action, may even be a means of defending their indi-
vidual liberties.
In these features, we discover the general character of
the social organization of a community. Organization is
on the whole coercive, or it is on the whole liberal.
Only one constituent society, namely, the state, em-
bodies and manifests the entire authority and social
control of the community. Lesser constituent societies,
such as ecclesiastical, industrial, and fraternal associations
embody the social control that is created by the social
natures and relations of their own members, or bring to
bear a social control delegated to them by the state. At
most, however, this is very much less than the original
and complete social control of the state itself. Whether
• 216
The Character and Efficiency of Organization 217
complete or partial, however, the social control expressed
through any organization may have the coercive or the
liberal character.
Sovereignity. — Social control, manifesting itself in the
authoritative organization of society as the state, and act-
ing through the organs of government, is sovereignty.
As otherwise defined by writers on political science,
sovereignty is an original and independent power to com-
pel obedience. The word "original," as used in this
definition, means underived from any external power or
authority ; and the word " independent " means indepen-
dent of any other state, nation, or ruler. The sovereignty
of a state may reside in a personal monarch, in a council,
group, or class, or in the people. In a certain sense, it
always resides in the people, inasmuch as a governing
council or a personal sovereign would be helpless but for
those sentiments and habits of obedient loyalty in the
people which oblige them to respect the command of the
monarch or the law made by the council.
The apparent inconsistency here presented is happily
disposed of in the analysis made by an English jurist,
Mr. A. V. Dicey, who distinguishes between legal sover-
eignty and political sovereignty.
Legal sovereignty is the legally rightful power to com-
pel obedience according to the existing governmental
system, which the community has accepted and formed
the habit of obeying. This legal sovereignty may reside
in a personal monarch, in a parliamentary body, or, as in
the United States, in the people acting in a constitution-
amending capacity.
Political sovereignty is the actual power to compel obe-
dience, by either legal or revolutionary means. It is the
2l8 The Elements of Sociology
power to make governments and to unmake them ; to
organize the state or to disorganize it. Sovereignty in
this sense, in other words, the real as distinguished from
any nominal social control, resides in the entire body of
the people. It has always resided there, and under no
circumstances can it reside elsewhere.
The Source of Liberty. — From what has been said in
the chapters on The Social Mind, it is evident that social
control, expressing itself either as sovereignty — the will
of the whole people manifesting itself through forms of
government — or expressing itself in those lesser degrees
felt by the members of non-governmental associations,
may be so coercive that no individual can successfully
oppose it. If, therefore, the individual actually enjoys a
j high degree of liberty, it is because the social mind per-
mits him to do so. It is because the sovereign state cre-
ates for him immunities and protects him in the enjoyment
of them. This is a truth of Sociology and of political
science which the uneducated man always finds much
difficulty in comprehending. It seems to him that his
liberty is born with him ; that it is a matter of inherent
right, and subject wholly to his own will. This is because
he fails to realize how resistless is the power of his fellow-
men over all his activities, and even over his life itself,
if they choose to put that power in operation. If, at any
time, he is so unfortunate as to fall under their suspicion,
to be taken by them when they have resolved themselves
into an angry mob, and to discover that he is utterly
helpless in their hands if they choose to deal with him
by the methods of lynch law, he then realizes that his
liberty is not the creature of his own will, and that the
liberty which any man actually enjoys, he owes to the
The Character and Efficiency of Organization 219
common feeling and common judgment of the community
that individual liberty is, on the whole, a good thing for all.
The Laws of Liberty. — From these considerations it is
obvious that the character of all social organization, in-
cluding the state, and the specific character of any partic-
ular social organization of the lesser sort, is determined by
the nature and development of the social mind.
It is plain to begin with that we might expect to see
far more intolerance of individual liberty, far more co-
ercion in general, in a community whose like-mindedness
is of the sympathetic, passionate, emotional sort, than in
one in which intelligence predominates. We should ex-
pect also to see a much higher development of arbitrary
authority in the community in which belief, formal like-
mindedness, and habits of conformity predominate over
discussion and rational public opinion. These presup-
positions are wholly warranted by observation and histori-
cal induction.
The First Law may be stated as follows : ;
Social organization is coercive in those connnunities ifi
which sympathetic and formal like-mindedness strongly pre-
dominate over rational like-mindedness. Conversely^ social
institutions are liberal^ allowing the utmost freedom of j
thought and actiofz to the individual only in those communi- j
ties in zvhich there is a high development of rational like
mindedness.
A second law is of not less importance. A community
may be extremely heterogeneous as a result either of con-
quest or of a rapid immigration of alien elements. In
this case, like-mindedness of any kind may be very slight.
Under these circumstances, the social organization is co-
ercive.
'J
220 The Elements of Sociology
In analyzing the mental development of the socius,
attention was directed to the power of a strong mind to
influence or fascinate minds of less personal force. It
was pointed out also that the fear-inspiring modes of
impression exist chiefly where the personal elements in
combination are much unlike ; and that familiarity and re-
semblance always tend to diminish fear. In heterogeneous
communities, it is always some form of personal leader-
ship, either that which grows out of fear or that which
grows out of fascination, that is the nucleus of organiza-
tion. Men who are not sympathetic, who do not under-
stand each other, who therefore cannot arrive at intellectual
agreement, obviously cannot cooperate of their own free ini-
tiative. Their cooperation in political, industrial, or religious
matters is possible only if, in their inability to organize
themselves, a leader is forthcoming who can organize them.
The more heterogeneous they are, the more certainly will
their obedience spring from fear, and under such circum-
stances the more certainly will his rule be coercive.
This principle has always been clearly exemplified in
ecclesiastical polity. That most democratic of organiza-
tions, the Congregational polity, has never been successful
in a heterogeneous population, which can be organized
only in an authoritative system. In like manner, political
democracy invariably evolves the tyrant or the boss, if the
population becomes extremely heterogeneous. In Ameri-
can cities, the old forms of deliberative government have
broken down with the influx of foreign immigration ; and
we have adopted the theory that cities are business cor-
porations for which even by-laws and ordinances should
be made by state legislatures, and in which administration
should be the one-man power of an elected dictator.
The Character and Efficiency of Organization 221
Without the highly developed consciousness of kind of a
relatively homogeneous population, there can be no suc-
cessful experiment of democracy.
The Second Law. — Generalizing these facts, it appears
that the forms of social organization, zvfiether political or
othery in their relation to the individual^ are necessarily co-
ercive if in their membership, there is great diversity of
kind and great inequality. Conversely, institutions or other
forms of social organization can be liberal, conceding the,^
utmost freedom to the individual if, in the population, there ''
is fraternity and, back of fraternity, an approximate mental
and moral equality.
The facts which the foregoing laws express are in-1
volved, and they always complicate or modify one another.
Thus, in the heterogeneous community, such like-minded-
ness as exists is for the most part of the sympathetic
kind ; to a less extent of the formal kind ; and least of all
intellectual or rational. This is because, as was pointed
out in the chapters on The Social Mind, men differ less in
feeling than in intelligence ; and this of course is in the
highest degree true of individuals of differing races or
nationalities. Men of every race are alike subjects of
sensation, of physical pain, and of the primary emotions
of fear, hate, and affection ; while comparatively few men
can arrive at perfect intellectual agreement upon compli-
cated problems of either theoretical or practical interest.
Consequently, in the heterogeneous population, not*
only does the unlike-mindedness there existing necessi-
tate coercive forms of organization in the manner that
has been explained, but also such like-mindedness as there
is, taking the sympathetic and conventional form, creates
coercive rather than liberal types of organizatiJaii.
222 The Elements of Sociology
Efficiency of Organization. — In its higher development,
all social organization exists for a purpose or end. The
purpose may not be consciously thought of by its members
at the outset. The cooperating group may at first be a
mere accidental arrangement. But if it proves useful in
any way, and the utility is perceived, the organization is
deliberately cherished and perfected for the sake of the
end to which it ministers. In the highly developed
societies of civilized men, the entire social organization,
including the component societies, has thus been reflected
upon by the social mind, and has been made purposive in
character.
The lesser constituent societies have most varied and
highly special objects in view; the general object of in-
tegral society is the protection and perfection of life, and
especially the development of the rational and spiritual
personality of mankind ; consequently, all social organ-
ization must be studied by the sociologist, not only from
the standpoint of its plan or system, and of its character
as more or less liberal, but also from the standpoint of its
efficiency as a means to the attainment of the special and
general ends to promote which it exists.
Organization must Benefit the Orgatiized. — The general
condition upon which the efficiency of social organization
depends by implication is stated when it is said that any
association exists for the protection and development of
the lives of its individual members. Since an organization
depends upon the loyal and earnest cooperation of its
members, its efficiency depends upon their devotion to it.
Their devotion, in turn, depends upon their conviction
that, in the long run, they actually secure the benefits,
including all possible pleasures and utilities of association.
The Character and Efficiency of Organization 223
Putting it in briefer terms we may say that, to be efficient,
all social organizations must be regarded by the organized ^
as beneficial to themselves.
Simple and obvious as this truth is, no principle in
human affairs is more frequently forgotten, and no prin-
ciple has been more frequently neglected in governmental
policy.
We have seen that nearly every social organization has
a constitution of some kind ; it has either a leader, or a
governing council, or administrative bureaus, which directly
carry on its activities supposedly for the benefit of the
general membership. The individuals who compose these
inner governing circles are prone to forget that they are
the servants of the entire association. Busied with the
detail of governmental work, they easily fall into the habit
of identifying themselves with the interests and ends of
the association ; and then they easily mistake themselves
for the association, and forget the interests of their fellow-
members. Thus there is always within an association a
tendency to make it exist not for the benefit of its entire
membership, but for the benefit of its governing individ-
uals.
Even where this tendency is held in subordination,
there is always danger that the governing circle may mis-
take its own ideas of what is politic, just, or wise in admin-
istration for the ideas of the general membership, and so
create divisions and finally disruption.
Illustrations of these truths may be drawn from every
form of social organization. They have been most con-
spicuously demonstrated in such bodies as trade unions,
business corporations, ecclesiastical societies, and political
parties. The entire history of the Protestant church
224 The Elements of Sociology
could be written from this point of view. It was because
the governing hierarchy of the Roman Catholic church
failed sufficiently to regard the convictions and the well-
being of the entire body of its membership, that the
Protestant schism began. It was in like manner because
the great established churches, namely, the Lutheran in
Germany and the Episcopalian in England, failed to
study the convictions and the interests of their member-
ship that further dissensions arose, and the Non-conform-
ist bodies came into existence.
Of all examples, however, that history affords of the
great truth that organization must be for the benefit of
the organized, the colonial policy of the European nations
has been the most striking. Strange as it may seem, in
the early days of colonial policy not the slightest attention
was ever given to the practical truth that colonies should
be governed for the benefit of the colonial population.
Statesmen had but one thought, which was to make
colonies a source of wealth and power to the mother
country. Spain, England, and France all pursued the
fatuous policy of extorting the utmost from their colonial
possessions in utter disregard of the economic and moral
interests of the colonies; and one after another these
nations lost the loyalty of their colonial peoples, and
ultimately the colonial territories themselves. England
alone learned the lesson of this experience ; and, as a
result of the great awakening of her political intelligence
which followed the loss of her American colonies through
the Revolutionary War, she perceived that henceforward
she must retain her remaining colonies by making them
feel that they were component parts of the great British
Empire, sharing in all its interests, and in full measure
The Character and Efficiency of Organization 225
participating in its benefits. This policy she has faith-
fully and consistently pursued to the present day, with
results of colonial loyalty which all the world knows.
Moral Qualities. — If, then, to be efficient, social or-
ganization must be regarded by the organized as obviously
beneficial to themselves, it further follows that efficiency
depends upon the existence in the community of so much
honesty, unselfishness, and loyalty that enough men can
be found to work faithfully and unselfishly for the gen-
eral good, sincerely endeavouring so to administer the
affairs of the organization that employs them, or of the
government in which they serve, that the general good
rather than their own individual interests shall ever be
kept in view as the supreme end. No community can
hope to have an efficient social organization if the general
moral level of its individuals is so low that they can think
only of their personal ambitions, and strive only to use
their official positions for their personal advancement.
The entire social organization of a community is endan-
gered when public office ceases to be a public trust, when
votes are bought and sold, when legislatures are bribed,
and when administrative business is deranged and cor-
rupted by unworthy means.
Recognition of Expert Knowledge. — Finally, the effi- J
ciency of social organization depends upon a general ,
recognition of the vital importance of expert knowledge.
The entire social constitution is an expression of the grea.
principle of the economic advantage of a division of labour
Each little association has for its special function the per-
formance of some specific kind of social work which could
not be as well done by any other group of men. Obvi-
ously, this plan can be fully and successfully carried out
Q
226 The Elements of Sociology
only if the division of labour is real, and not merely nominal
or a pretence. In like manner, in the constitution of each
larger society and of the government, each particular kind
of work must be performed by those who have a special
aptitude for it, if there is to be any real advantage in
maintaining a highly specialized social constitution at all.
At the head of every branch of affairs must be the men
who are more competent to deal with them than anybody
else is.
This condition of things can be secured only if the
community has some comprehension of what expert know-
ledge is, and is determined to secure it. In order to secure
it, however, it is absolutely necessary that men shall be
appointed to office solely on the ground of their fitness for
the work that they are expected to do. If they are ap-
pointed because they are personal relatives of men in
superior authority, or because, as political workers, they
have helped to elect to office the men who appoint them,
or because, irrespective of any abilities that they possess,
they have long been devoted to some particular clique or
party, it is certain that the efficiency of the social organi-
zation must suffer.
Demoralization reaches its extreme limit when the prac-
tice of appointment to office for other reasons than fitness
for the work to be done becomes an organized system of
distributing offices as the spoils of the victory over oppo-
nents in an election. The movement which is popularly
known as civil service reform, is the protest against all
such plans of corrupting the public service in the interests
of a party or a governing class. It is an organized insist-
ence that fitness, in the sense of expert knowledge, demon-
strated by the successful performance of duty in subordinate
The Character and Efficiency of Organization 22;
positions, shall be the sole ground of advancement to posl
tions of larger responsibility.
Results of Organization. — The final tests of the efficiency
of social organization are to be looked f^r in the results
which organization brings about in the economic, intellect-
ual, and moral life of the community, and especially in
the development of an improving type of human person-
ality.
Wealth. — Perhaps no other one result of a highly per- / ^
fected social organization is so conspicuous as is the in-
crease of wealth. Of all the conditions upon which the
growth of wealth depends, probably no other one is so
important as the capacity of the people to organize them-
selves in innumerable forms of association for carrying on
industrial and commercial activity. Cooperation and a
division of labour can transform the most forbidding ele-
ments into prosperity. Where these are lacking, no
wealth of natural resources, no accumulations of capital,
no possession of ingenious machinery will enable a com-
munity to amass riches, or even to live in material com-
fort. Nothing can be more pitiful than a state which is
able to purchase improved mechanisms — battleships and
artillery, for example — from a more ingenious nation
than itself, and is then unable to handle them to advan-
tage because of a total incapacity for social organization
and discipline. Among the most important practical
studies to be made in Sociology will be one to ascertain
the relations between sociological and economic poverty.
Whenever a commonwealth, whose people are impover-
ished and burdened with mortgages and other debts, is
observed to appeal continually to its government to enact
laws of a socialistic nature, or to undertake industrial and
228 The Elements of Sociology
commercial enterprises for the benefit of a suffering popu-
lation, the first inquiry made should ascertain whether
that commonwealth is not really suffering from sociologi-
cal poverty — from a certain incapacity or lack of enter-
prise to organize those varied forms of voluntary association
by which, in other communities, great economic activities
are succesfully maintained.
The Diminution of Fear. — Next to the increase of
wealth, the most important result of efficient social organ-
ization is the diminution of fear and of superstition, the
decline of emotionalism, and the corresponding increase
of discussion and rationality.
We may seem here to be reasoning in a circle, since
it has already been affirmed that the most efficient social
organization depends for its existence upon a high de-
velopment of rational like-minded'ness. This is quite
true; but it is not less true that if, as a result of a cer-
tain existing degree of rationality, the social organization
is relatively efficient, the efficiency will react upon intelli-
gence, further enlarging and developing it. The process
is analogous to that of physiological life, in which the
ability to use nerves and muscles in obtaining food is
due to the assimilation of food previously obtained, and,
in its turn, insures new supplies of food, which, when
enjoyed and assimilated, restore and increase the ability
to obtain. All that we intend to affirm is that rational
like-mindedness and efficiency of social organization con-
tinually react upon one another, each furthering the
development of the other.
When men live in isolation, cut off from the coopera-
tion of their fellows, they are relatively helpless ; and,
when helpless, they easily become the prey of fear. The
TJie Character and Efficiency of Organization 229
helplessness is not only in their relation to enemies of
their own species, but even more in their relation to the
physical elements. Against fire and flood and tempest,
the individual man has very little power.
When man is helpless and subject to fear, he is also
the victim of ignorance and of superstition. The know-
ledge that the single individual can acquire in his short
lifetime is infinitesimal as measured by the limitless
domain of nature and of history — the totality of things
to be known. Only as his own discoveries can be sup-
plemented by communicated knowledge, obtained by his
fellow-beings, can he have any real command over nature
and life.
As a creature of superstition, of ignorance, and of fear,
man is almost wholly a creature of emotion; rational
deliberation plays but little part in his conduct. Conse-
quently, populations in which there is no systematic com-
munication, no continual exchange of knowledge, and no
discussion of principles, are subject to impulsive social
action. They seldom exhibit a calm and firm restraint
of passion. They know little of that deliberately planned
conduct which is the product of rational like-mindedness.
An efficient social organization transforms these condi-
tions. Disciplined cooperation establishes security ; sys-
tematic communication diffuses knowledge and stimulates
critical inquiry. Knowledge and investigation give com-
mand over natural forces. Those nations in which social
organization is highly developed are emancipated from
superstition and from fear ; they are able to rise supe-
rior to emotion and impulse ; they believe in scientific
investigation ; they have habits of calm and disciplined
action.
//
II
230 The Elements of Sociology
/^ Accordingly we have the law of mental emancipation,
as follows :
Fear^ superstition^ emotionalism, and impulsive action
diminish with the evolution of efficient social organization.
The Supreme Result of efficient social organization, and
the supreme test of efficiency, is the development of the
socius, or the personality of the social man. If the man
himself becomes less social, less rational, less manly; if
he falls from the highest type, which seeks self-realiza-
tion, to one of those lower types that manifest only the
primitive virtues of power; if he becomes non-social or
anti-social — the social organization, whatever its apparent
merits, is failing to achieve its supreme object. If, on
the contrary, the man is becoming ever better as a human
being, more rational, more sympathetic, with an ever-
broadening consciousness of kind — then, whatever its
apparent defects, the social organization is sound and
efficient.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Burke's "Thoughts on the Present Discontents"; Proal's
"Political Crime"; and the annual reports of the American Civil
Service Reform Association.
J*
CHAPTER XX
The Early History of Society
Zoogenic Association. — Here and there in the foregoing
pages, mention has been made of a process of evolution
in human society. It has been assumed that social ideas
and social organizations, as we have known them, have
grown from simpler beginnings. As a result of the la-
bours of biologists, anthropologists, and ethnologists, of
the labours also of the students of language and of folk-
lore, much knowledge has been accumulated about the
beginnings and early history of society. The assumptions
in regard to social evolution that have thus far been made
in our pages have been based upon this knowledge. While
it is impossible in a small text-book to present anything
like a complete account of the historical evolution of so-
ciety, even an elementary work on Sociology would be
incomplete if it did not include a brief summary of what
is known on this subject. Accordingly, we will now glance
at some of the chiefly interesting facts and speculations
touching social development.
The Social Ancestor of Man. — Thus far but little men-
tion has been made in these pages of any other society
than that of human beings. It is well known, however, to all
who are familiar with animal life, that me&t animal species
are social in their instincts, and that they live in such social
groups as swarms, flocks, bands, and herds. This is true
231
232 The Elements of Sociology
of insects, birds, and most of the mammalia, and especially
of such species as the various ruminants, the horses, the
elephants, the monkeys, and the apes.
It is held by evolutionists that from an ape-like creature,
no longer perfectly represented in any surviving species,
the human race itself is descended. The sociologist has
no immediate concern with the vast mass of biological and
palaeontological evidence which establishes the Darwinian
theory of the descent of man from the lower forms of
life. It is, however, a sociological question whether man
is descended from an unsocial species, every individual or
pair of which lived an isolated life, or from a highly social
species that had already formed the habit of living in
bands for the enjoyment of social pleasure and for com-
mon protection and cooperation. In other words, it is a
sociological question whether the human race is descended
from a single pair or from an entire species which lived i
in communities and, as a species, slowly developed into
1 human form and in tellig ence. Did the race become .sor.ial
after becoming human, or did it become human after
becoming social.?
r There is hardly a single fact in the whole range of socio-
' logical knowledge that does not support the conclusion that
s/ the race was social before it was human, and that its social
qualities were the chief means of developing its human
I nature.
\-^'To begin with, we know that, to some extent, all exist-
( 1/ i^g varieties of human beings are social. The lowest
savage hordes are in a measure possessed of sympathetic
instincts and of habits of cooperation. We also know that,
while nearly all animal species are social in instinct and
habits, this is preeminently true of those species that
The Early History of Society 233
most nearly approach man in anatomical and psychologi-
cal characteristics. The social affections of many varie-
ties of apes and monkeys are of almost human intensity.
Therefore, it would be a most strange and unwarranted
assumption to suppose that between the social species
from which man is known to be descended and man him-
self as a social being, there was an ancestral link that
was itself non-social, and lived an isolated life, without
communication with fellow-creatures.
In the second place, there is strong reason to suppose
that social habits have played an exceedingly important
part in those processe ; of animal evolution that are known
as differentiation^ vaiialion, and survival.
The great variety that we see in organic life, both vege-
table and animal, has chiefly been produced by the combi-
nation of differing elements in mating and reproduction.
Whenever variations tnus produced have proved beneficial,
either by enabling their possessors better to withstand
rigours of heat or cold, or other peculiarities of climate, or
more successfully to obtain food, or more skilfully to com-
bat or to evade enemies, they have tended to persist, through
the survival of the individuals in which they were inherent.
When, on the contrary, variations have tended to weakness
or incapacity, they have themselves disappeared through
the disappearance of their unfortunate possessors.
The tendency of all forms of life is to multiply with such
rapidity that extreme difficulty is experienced by the race
or species in obtaining sufficient food supplies. Those in-
dividuals that are best equipped with characteristics of
body and of intelligence that are called for in the life
struggle at their particular time and place, are the fortu-
nate ones that survive. Through their survival, their
234 '^^^^ Elements of Sociology
characteristics and abilities are established in the species.
This is the process called natural selection, or the survival
of the fittest.
It must be remembered that the phrase " the survival of
the fittest " does not always mean the survival of the best,
as is often erroneously supposed. It means merely the
survival of those best fitted or adapted to the conditions of
life in which their lot is cast. For example, the death of
Europeans, and the survival of brutal savages on the fever-
ridden western coast of Africa, is a survival of the fittest,
since it is a survival of those who are, by nature, adapted
to live in that region — though we should hardly call it a
survival of the best. LNatural selection, then, is simply
the weeding out by disease, accident, death, and conquest
of those individuals, varieties, and species that are not
adapted to the conditions of existence in which they find
themselves, and the survival of those that are adapted. )
TJie Survival of the Best. — So far, this is not difficult
to understand. But a further question is. How does it
happen that the survival of the fittest really has been, on
the whole, the survival of the best; in other words, the
survival of the most intelligent, the most sympathetic,
truthful, and helpful t One has only to glance back
over the long succession of species throughout geological
time, as revealed in fossil remains, to see that the succes-
sion was a progression from the unintelligent to the intelli-
gent, and that, speaking generally, the latest species to
appear were the best endowed with brain and nervous
organization.
It is the belief of the present author that the answer to
this question can never be given by the biologist or the
palaeontologist without the aid of the sociologist.
The Early History of Society 235
The reason why in the long run the survival of the
fittest has been the survival of the best, is to be found in
the obvious importance of the social instinct in the strug-
gle for existence. ' \
Association and mutual aid have been ^ chief means of '
establishing new varieties of animal life. This they have
done by creating sympathies and antipathies that have
controlled mating and reproduction. Some individuals
have been unable to unite in the reproduction of their
species simply because of social antipathies. Others have
as inevitably united because of social sympathies.
Further than this, these same antipathies and sympa-
thies have secured the stability of new forms when once
produced, by protecting them from the further variation
that would result from cross breeding.
Yet further, among animals survival has perhaps more
often been due to sympathy and mutual aid than to any
other one cause. Before man appeared on the earth, the
fiercer carnivora were already tending towards extinction,
while the gentle, physically weak, and apparently defence-
less herbiverous and frugiverous species were rapidly in-
creasing. The ability of the latter to survive and multiply
was almost wholly due to the defence that they enjoyed
in their social habit of cooperation.
Admitting, then, that throughout the history of animal
life the social instinct has been one of the chief means of
survival, it becomes easy to say why the survival of the
fittest has been the survival of the best. In the chapter
on The Social Nature it was shown that social life develops
intelligence and the moral virtues. The possession of
intelligence and moral qualities, including sympathy and
affection, is what we mean by "the best." Consequently
236 The Elements of Sociology
if social habit has been an important factor in the struggle
for existence, natural selection has inevitably been sup-
pressing the unintelligent and the unsympathetic, and
preserving their betters.
Thus we have every reason to suppose that society
originated ages before man appeared on the earth; and
that sympathies, affections, social instincts, and habits of
mutual aid were well developed in many species of animals
long before any one of them had begun to assume the
human form. The first chapter, then, in the early history
of society, is one that takes us far back into geological
times.
Maris Social Allies. — Apart from the fact that human-
ity probably started upon its career with an endowment of
social instinct and habit already well formed, mankind
owes another great debt to the social evolution of animal
life. It is more than doubtful whether any progress in
civilization could have been made if man had been unable
to tame and domesticate some of the lower animals.
Before command of the physical forces was achieved
through the invention of machinery, man was dependent
for many forms of service upon such animals as the ele-
phant, the ox, and the horse. Moreover, in many parts of
the world where civilization has attained its highest forms,
a sufficient food supply to maintain a dense population has
been possible only through the systematic rearing of such
domesticated animals as cattle and sheep.
The taming and domestication of animals, however,
would have been quite impossible had they not first acquired
in association a teachable disposition and a high intelli-
gence.
Anthropogenic Association. — The social life of animals
The Early History of Society 237
may be called a zoogenic association, because its chief
result has been the differentiation and development of the
varied forms of animal life and the development of animal
intelligence.
In like manner the beginnings of human society may be
spoken of as anthropogenic association, because the chief
result of it was the development of human characteristics,
and especially of the human, in distinction from the ani-
mal, mind.
Mans Early Home, — Since we do not know just when
and where took place the transformation of a species that
closely resembled the human race into a race that could,
in strictness, be called human, and since there are no
records of the social habits of that species, we are unable
to ascertain very much about the earliest beginnings of
human society. There are, however, a few known facts
which it is worth while to call to mind.
The fossil remains of those highest and now extinct
varieties of apes, whose skeletons most closely approach
that of man, are found along an irregular zone that
stretches from the valley of the Thames in England
through the valleys of the Seine and the Garonne in
France, through northern Africa and southern India to
Java. The earliest undoubtedly human remains are found
scattered throughout the same zone. In Java has been
found the Pithecanthropus erectiis, which the best anatomists
have decided is a true intermediate link between ape and
man. It is, therefore, highly probable that somewhere
within this zone, stretching from Java to southern Eng-
land, the origin of the human species was slowly effected
through minute modifications of brain and form, which
probably occupied thousands of years in their accomplish-
k.
238 The Elements of Sociology
ment; and that it was throughout this zone that the first
bands of human beings lived and wandered, some of them
in the southeast developing into dark races, and others in
the northwest into light races.
It is also highly probable that the earliest human beings
lived in rather large bands or communities, because they
dwelt in regions where such food supplies as they needed
were relatively abundant. It is fallacious to argue from
the hard life and scanty subsistence of the lowest hordes
of human beings now living in such remote regions as
Tierra del Fuego, the Australian forests, and the Arctic
Highlands, that primitive men were as ill fed and neces-
sarily lived in such small groups. It is certain that human
life did not begin in the remote and barren corners of the
globe. Those unfortunate peoples that now dwell there
have been driven into them by powerful enemies who
have dispossessed them of better lands that they once
enjoyed.
The Origin of Speech. — Slight as is our possible know-
ledge of primitive human society, we know one fact about
it with certainty ; and it is the most interesting fact in the
entire history of the human race. It was in the earliest
stages of the social life of that species which was develop-
ing into man, that the calls and cries of animals were
developed into articulate speech, and that the power to
think in terms of concepts or abstract ideas was acquired.
The great difference between the mind of man and
that of lower animals is in man's power of conceptual
thought and of predicative speech. These two terms
must be explained together. We form, a concept when
we succeed in forming the idea of a class of things, or,
as we otherwise say, a general idea. If, for example,
The Early History of Society 239
after we have seen scores or hundreds of pine trees, we
can think of pine trees in general without limiting the
mental picture to the memory of some particular pine
tree, we have formed a concept of that general class of
things, pine trees. In like manner, if t^e word " man "
brings to mind a general notion of the human being rather
than a picture of some particular human being, we are
able to think of man in terms of concepts.
It is certain that the more intelligent animals have
made a near approach to the power of conceptual think-
ing ; but it is equally certain that if, now and then, they
do form true concepts, they are quite unable to combine
them in coherent propositions. When birds from a great
height cautiously alight on ice, with a motion altogether
different from that of diving into water, they show that
they are able to distinguish ice in general from water in
general, since their practice is by no means limited to
any particular piece of ice with which they have become
familiar. But they are not able to put together their
notion of ice with a notion of temperature, or of altitude,
or of latitude, and so to form coherent rational propositions
about ice.
This power, which man has, he owes entirely to the
circumstance that he has discovered a method of fixing
signs to his concepts so that he can recall them and
identify them in whatever combination they happen to
be placed. These signs of concepts we know by the
designation "names." Particular objects, also, we identify
by names. That is to say, we have two distinct classes
of names : the concrete or proper nouns, and the ab-
stract or common nouns. The latter are terms for con-
cepts. The greater part of our verbs also are signs of
\
240 The Elements of Sociology
concepts ; they are names of actions or states that are
general rather than particular.
One who closely observes the mental development of
a child, sees that his power of using words as marks of
concepts and his power of conceptual thought develop to-
gether. Each step in his command over either helps him
in his struggle with the other. The process was un-
doubtedly the same in the early development of spoken
language in primitive human communities, except that the
original process undoubtedly occupied a much longer time.
From the standpoint o.f the sociologist, the most inter-
esting question touching the origin of speech is that of
the means by which articulate sounds became associated
with general ideas, so that they were presently con-
sciously employed as names, and thereby enabled man-
kind to advance in his intellectual development until he
had mastered the processes of conceptual reasoning.
Students of language believe that this means was none
other than the habit of social pleasure-making, in the
forms of feasting, dancing, and a common expression of
emotion in shouts and cries which, under the influence
of excitement, naturally assumed a rhythmical form. The
expression of feeling in vocal sounds, which is common to
animals, was probably first transformed into a choral sing-
ing, and afterwards into articulate speech. In all proba-
bility, the choral sounds thus transformed into a rude
music were, in the beginning, imitations of the cries of
animals and men whose actions were at the same time
being imitated in the gesture and pantomime of the dance.
Sounds thus associated with particular objects or classes
of objects, not once or twice or in any merely accidental
way, but over and over again in repetitions that became
The Early History of Society 241
habitual, presently served, when heard, to call to mind
the objects or classes of objects themselves. Thus, by-
imitation and repetition, they unconsciously became fixed
signs or names of concepts ; and doubtless they had come
into general use before any individual Was aware of the
marvellous transformation that was thus taking place in
his own intelligence.
Therefore, it was probably a purely social fact — that,
namely, of habitual and perhaps almost systematic social
pleasure-making — which enabled man to convert the lan-
guage of animals into articulate speech and develop the
power of conceptual thought.
Human Nature. — One other fact of primitive human
society we also know with certainty. It was in the earli-
est period of human evolution that human nature as dis-
tinguished from animal nature was produced, and that the
social mind entered upon its formal development through
the origin of tradition.
Human nature is not that self-seeking individualism
which has so often been mistaken for it. The more self-
ish and unsocial the individual is, the nearer does he
approach to the prehuman or animal nature. Human
nature is preeminently social. Its chief trait is a con-
sciousness of kind wider and stronger than that found in
animal groups ; a consciousness of kind that is better
developed in the civilized man of to-day than it was in the
civilized man of antiquity ; that was better developed in
him than in the barbarian, and better developed in the
barbarian than in the savage. Next to the better devel-
oped consciousness of kind, the chief trait of human
nature is a volume of desire, strong, expansive, and modi-
fiable to a degree unknown in any other species.
R
242 The Elements of Sociology
Both of these traits of human nature were made possi-
ble by speech. Speech sharply marked off the species
that had discovered it. It enabled that species to become
self-conscious and to comprehend its superiority to all
other creatures. In like manner, the differences of speech
that grew up between separate communities, until it was
impossible for one to understand another, became the
basis of a very marked development of the consciousness
of kind. Speech, moreover, was the chief factor in the
development of curiosity, as it is to this day in the mental
evolution of the child. When the child begins to learn
and to apply names, his curiosity about things, and his
desire to investigate them by every means in his power,
becomes most intense. We cannot doubt that this was
true also of primitive man.
The development of curiosity, in its turn, is the chief
factor in the development of desire. Desire has its origi-
nal source in the physiological processes. But our purely
physiological wants are limited in degree and are easily
satisfied. It is only when the excitement that accom-
panies the activity of our psychological apparatus — of
brain and nerve — is awakened, that desire assumes the
form of cravings which admit of indefinite multiplication.
The desires that contain elements of perception and
thought, especially when they assume the form of intel-
lectual curiosity, admit of combination and recombination
with one another and with the primary cravings of bodily
desire, in endless variatipn of detail.
It was, then, the development of speech that made
possible the development of human nature, whose chief
characteristics are the developed consciousness of kind,
intellectual curiosity, and an expansive desire.
The Early History of Society 243
Inequality and Emulation, — Speech, in combination
with a developing desire, emphasized inequality between
man and man, and gave birth to emulation and the desire
to excel.
Since speech was the most peculiar, ftnd probably the
most prized characteristic of any community of primitive
men, the individual man who excelled in speech, — partic-
ularly in persuasive speech, — and who had unusual pow-
ers of conceptual thought, became the natural leader of
the band. He also had more varied desires and ambitions
than his fellows, and knew better how to realize them.
At the same time, by means of his endowment of concept-
ual thought, he could put his distinction before his own
mind as an object of thought. He could distinctly form
the notions of leadership and of adulation as objects worth
achieving. In the breasts of his fellows, however, the
deepening consciousness of kind could but fortify a belief
that the distinction which one could achieve must be pos-
sible to all. The wish to emulate, born of habits of imita-
tion that extended back through countless generations,
thus became at length in their minds a consciously con-
ceived desire, as clear and as powerful as the exceptional
man's desire to excel. In the birth of these two desires,
the desire to excel and the desire to emulate, the long
course of human progress began.
The First Traditions. — Traditions arose in primitive
human society, and the first steps in the development of
a conventional type of the social mind were taken when,
after the acquisition of articulate speech, primitive com-
munities began to discuss those ideas and experiences
that individuals had been familiar with for untold gen-
erations. Ideas of utility, of toleration, of alliance and
244 ^^^^ Ele^nents of Sociology
conquest became elements of tradition when, and only
when, communicated from one individual mind to another
throughout the social group, they were made objects of
conceptual thought, of discussion, and of common belief.
I. Primitive Economic Ideas. — By communication and
discussion, until they became a common possession, the
primitive ideas of utility and value were combined in a
primitive conception of wealth. Desirable things are not
wealth until they are appreciated by the community as
well as by the individuals that first discover their desira-
ble qualities. Economists imperfectly express this truth
when they say that wealth consists of the useful things
that can be exchanged, or that have value in exchange.
Actual exchange is not necessary to convert the material
means of satisfaction into wealth ; but a general or social
esteem is necessary. Such an esteem arose when men
began consciously to compare their wants, their efforts,
and their satisfactions ; and when, by that common con-
sent which is a product as much of emulation as of dis-
cussion, they began to arrange the means of satisfaction
in a scale of desirableness. In those days of sharp alter-
nations of feasting and starving, mere quantity of any-
thing consumable impressed the imagination ; and crude
abundance was put first in the social esteem. To dis-
cover and conquer abundance was to win distinction.
Next in order were put the things that qualitatively or
quantitatively served as marks of distinction, such as tro-
phies, ornaments, and implements, and finally the things
that appealed to new desires. The primitive idea of
wealth was thus not essentially different from the idea
of wealth to-day. It was the notion of a socially esteemed
abundance of things necessary for life, for social distinc-
The Early History of Society 245
tion, for emulation, and for the imitation of novelty. It
expanded with the growth of inequality, which intensified
the desires to excel and to emulate.
The remaining economic ideas of the primitive social
mind were those that constitute the useful or productive
arts. Discovery and invention were then, as they are now,
the prime factors in economic production. The discoveries
made by primitive man were few and simple ; and his in-
ventions did not get beyond the most elementary tools
and processes. Professor Tylor says that it is not quite
true that man is distinguished from the animals by his
use of tools, since some apes, and perhaps other animals,
use the tools that are ready to hand, in the forms of clubs
and stones ; but that man alone improves these natural
tools, and therefore may be called a tool-making animal.
When all of the simple discoveries of primitive man, all
of his inventions of tools and processes, were communi-
cated, discussed, and imitated, they became a common
possession, and thus a permanent acquisition of the social
mind.
2. Primitive Juristic Ideas. — Through communication
and discussion, habits of toleration that had long been
established became objects of conceptual thought, and
were converted into the juridical tradition. As was ex-
plained in an earlier chapter, the habits of toleration
themselves had originated in those conflicts that resulted
in demonstrating a substantial equilibrium of strength.
Such habits were converted into rules of toleration, and
thereby into juridical facts, when they were named and
described, as a result of being conceptually thought about
and discussed.
From the first, the ideas of toleration in the primitive
246 The Elements of Sociology
social mind must have assorted themselves into the two
classes that are still fundamental categories of legal
thought; namely, notions of immunity of life and notions
of immunity of possession.
The conception of immunity of life was at first limited
by a narrow consciousness of kind. The primitive man
could feel affection for an associate; he could estimate
the probable danger of offending him ; and could appre-
ciate the importance of his life to the band. For the
stranger, the primitive man could have no such feelings;
and no sacredness could attach to a stranger's life. The
man who slew a fellow-member of his band could expect
the wrath of his own associates. The man who was in-
jured by a stranger could count on the aid of all his own
associates in pursuing and avenging.
The idea of possession, which originated in the asser-
tion of ownership that is exhibited by animals, became, in
the primitive social mind, the notion of property or of
property right, which is a product of two factors ; namely,
the assertion of possession on the part of the individual
possessing, and the toleration of his claim or acquiescence
in it on the part of the community. In primitive society,
property extended to simple personal belongings, to arti-
cles of adornment, to trophies of the chase or of war, and
to tools and weapons. Probably gift-giving, in recogni-
tion of bravery or capacity, was an important factor in
the evolution of the conception of property. Nothing
could more clearly have been property than articles given
by the community to its favourite leaders.
3. Primitive Political Ideas. — The notions which, by
means of discussion, were converted into the germs of
political ideas in the primitive social mind were those
The Early History of Society 247
of a common territory, of a common interest and defence,
of a common leadership and allegiance, and of a common
culture.
The lowest savage hordes have notions of rudely-
bounded lands which they may rightfully claim and de-
fend. It is probable that these ideas originated far back
in prehistoric times. They could not fail to arise when
the familiar association of a group with the natural feat-
ures of its dwelling-place was frequently disturbed by
enemies, and the danger became a topic of discussion.
The supreme common interests of primitive men were
those of mutual aggression and mutual defence ; and we
may be sure that the habits of mutual aid which had been
acquired in the animal stage of evolution were well scru-
tinized by the primitive social mind; that they were
named and discussed ; and that the resulting notions of
the conduct that would receive public approval in any
given case were combined into conceptions of loyalty
and solidarity.
Leadership must often have played an important part
in critical situations, and have riveted the primitive man's
attention upon differences of personal power, and upon
the relations of inferior to superior. Simple forms of ad-
miration and ceremony are observed throughout the animal
kingdom. All animals exhibit an uncritical wonder at
unusual displays of power or brilliancy, and express their
deference to those who are admired or feared by attitudes
of supplication, by acts of service, and by a surrender of
possessions. In return for deference, they look for various
benefits from the superior. These habits were inherited
by the human race; and the primitive man uncritically
accepted any difference between himself and another.
248 The Elements of Sociology
especially any difference of magnitude or power. One
was inferior and must admire and obey, follow and ask
favours ; the other was superior, and could command and
guide, demand reverence and service, and bestow benefits.
These notions, converted into common possessions of the
social mind, became ideas of a common property in the
commanding personalities of the community ; ideas of
benefit and obligation in the relations of leader and fol-
lower ; ideas of common forms of ceremony. These ideas
bound men together when they thought of themselves as
inferior and superior, as ideas of their common interest in
defence and aggression bound them together when they
thought of themselves as equal allies. The crude notions
of benefit and obligation were fertile ideas that would later
develop into personal allegiance to a chief or lord. From
the ceremonial ideas were to be evolved those differen-
tiated forms of command and obedience, of bounty and
tribute, of protection and service, of grace and homage,
that are the substance of government of every sort.
In the stock of common ideas on all the relations and
interests of life, in the common forms of ceremonial, and in
the speech which transmitted both ideas and ceremonial the
community had the elements of a common culture. When
the social mind perceived these elements and reflected
upon them, it thereby converted them into a culture in
fact, a supreme interest to be diligently cherished. In
this conception of a common culture appeared the germ of
one of the most important of all political ideas.
A common culture depends upon autogeny and its cen-
tral fact of genetic aggregation. The conception of a
common culture had, as its chief element, the idea of a
community of speech, which, as a rule, could be identified
The Early History of Society 249
with kinship. Therefore, the conception of a common
culture must have been closely associated with the concep-
tion of kinship. From these two conceptions was subse-
quently developed that plan of government which made
kinship its administrative basis^ '
All of these political ideas of the primitive social mind
— ideas, namely, of a common territory, of solidarity and
loyalty, of leadership and allegiance, of kinship and a com-
mon culture — have been factors in every form of political
organization that has been tried ; but the idea of kinship
was the first, the idea of allegiance was the second, and the
idea of territory was the last to be emphasized for admin-
istrative purposes.
Secondary Traditions. — In these various groups of
social ideas were the beginnings of the economic, the
juristic, and the political traditions. They all pertained
to those fundamental relations which a conscious organism
holds to the tangible world of palpable creatures and ma-
terial things.
But in the very process of reflecting upon its own ideas,
the mind of man was beginning to look in upon itself and
to apprehend phenomena of which the animal mind had
never been conscious. It was beginning to have ideas of
ideas : ideas of volition, life, and cause ; ideas of the sources
of those manifestations of power that had awakened won-
der and fear. It was beginning to perceive an intangible
world. These notions of an intangible world, communi-
cated and discussed, became the elements of the secondary
traditions ; namely, the animistic, the poetic, and the
religious.
I. Primitive Animistic Ideas. — The ideas constituting
the animistic tradition man derived from his first crude at-
250 The Elements of Sociology
tempts to analyze himself. Ordinarily, body and thought
seemed inseparable. But when the primitive man ob-
served the bodies of the dead, he discovered that mani-
festations of thought, expressed in a(^tion and speech,
could no longer be expected. His own experiences in
dreaming and in imaginative waking moods, when his own
mind seemed to wander away from his body, led him to
interpret these facts as due to a simple and natural separa-
tion of mind and body under certain circumstances. He
interpreted himself and every other living thing as double
— as consisting of two selves, which might live together or
might wander apart.
From this notion it followed by primitive reasoning that
whatever manifested Hfe was personal and was actuated
by motives like those of human beings. The primitive
man concluded that conscious will was in everything that
moved or changed ; and that it was prompted, like man's
will, by appetite, desire, friendliness, and malevolence.
The world seemed to him to be a bewildering aggregation
of conscious powers. Some of them were contemptible,
and man could abuse or use them ; but others were terri-
ble, swift, subtle, or mysterious in their action, and filled the
wondering human soul with fear, admiration, and dread.
2. Primitive Poetic Ideas. — The notions that were de-
veloped into the poetic tradition sprang chiefly from the
primitive man's interpretation of shadows, reflections in
water, and echoes. He assigned to these intangible
things an independent conscious life quite like his own
personality. He was led to this interpretation because
shadow, reflection, and echo seemed to him to have the
power of accompanying him at certain times, or to sepa-
rate themselves from him independently of his will. It
The Early History of Society 251
was beyond the range of his intelligence to explain the
appearance and disappearance of the shadow as due to
his own position in the sunlight or in the shade ; to ex-
plain the echo which seemed to come back from mountain
or forest, as due to the nature of sound. '• He could think
of the echo only as the voice of his double — that think-
ing, spiritual part of himself which had the power of wan-
dering away from the body in imagination, in dreams, and
in death. The shadow and the reflection, in like manner,
he believed were visions of his conscious self, fleetingly
caught by his eye. Thus conceiving of images and
echoes, he interpreted words and other sounds in like
manner. They were living conscious things, in some
mysterious way associated with himself, and yet having
the power to live apart from his tangible body. Thus it
was that the whole human race, in its earliest days, came
to think of all the modes of expression, both in imagery
and in sound, as consisting of living things ; and thus it
was that the entire early conception of the world and of
history took that poetic form in which all things, including
sounds and images themselves, are personified.
Primitive Religions Ideas. — The religious tradition had
its origin in the primitive man's notion that his intangible
or conscious self survived the death of his body, and con-
tinued to wander about the world as a ghost or spirit
which, at times, might come back to a body from which
apparently it had gone forever, or go from one body to
another, or even from a human into an animal body, or
into a plant, or stream, or mountain, or other natural object.
Nothing could have been more natural than that the
primitive man should so interpret familiar occurrences.
In coma, for example, the body may lie for days in a state
252 The Elements of Sociology
indistinguishable from death, and then revive. In epi-
lepsy and in insanity, as they appeared to the primitive
man, the proper spirit of the victim was evidently not in
him ; or it was enthralled by strange and probably malevo-
lent spirits.
So the belief in ghosts or surviving spirits of the dead
that had come back to their bodies or wandered through
the air, or entered into plants, streams, or other objects,
became a conviction of the entire human race ; and, ac-
cording to primitive modes of thinking, it was necessary
for man to propitiate not only living beings who were
more powerful than himself, but also the ghosts of the
dead which, if not well treated, might become malevolent,
and work all manner of mysterious mischief.
Totemism. — Out of these notions, by a most natural
development, grew those ideas of the primitive social
mind that were destined to play an exceedingly impor-
tant part in the organization of tribal society : the ideas,
namely, which have already been briefly described as
totemism. Primitive naming was largely a matter of imi-
tation. At least, we may so infer from the fact that
among existing savages names are derived almost wholly
from animals, plants, and other natural objects with which
the daily life of the band is most closely associated.
Furthermore, in hunting, fishing, and in festive amuse-
ments, it was doubtless customary then as now to adopt
disguises and imitations of animal forms by clothing one's
self in skins or putting on head-dresses of feathers, beaks,
and horns. To the primitive mind, this association by
adornment, imitation, and naming, with animal forms or
other objects, created a much closer alliance than w^ould
seem credible to the modern mind. Since names and
The Early History of Society 253
images were themselves supposed to be living spiritual
realities with mysterious powers, any alliance with them
was thought to be equivalent to an intimate association
with the objects which they named or pictured. If a boy
were called an eagle or a bear, and espe'cially if he were
also adorned in imitation of eagle or bear, he necessarily
partook thereby of the nature and powers of the eagle or
the bear. He was, in a mysterious way, of the same kin-
dred as they.
Without here tracing further all the steps in the process
by which totemism developed, it is sufficient to say that it
grew out of the notion that men could be related to one
another through their mysterious alliance with animal
forms. Thus, the human community came to be thought
of as including many members besides the human individ-
uals born into it. It was supposed to include the ghosts
of all its dead members; to include all its totemic mem-
bers of other species ; to include all those human beings
who, wandering into it, happened to be named or marked
with the name or image of the totem, since, to the mind
of the primitive man, this would prove that they also were
related to his own totemic kindred.
Such, then, were the chiefly interesting developments of
primitive human society. The origin of speech, the evolu-
tion of human nature, and the beginnings of the great
traditions of the social mind : these were the achieve-
ments of anthropogenic association.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Darwin's "Descent of Man" ; Brinton's "Races and Peoples" ;
and Spencer's "Principles of Sociology," Volume I, Part I, Chapters
V-XIX, inclusive, and Volume II, Part IV.
CHAPTER XXI
Tribal Society
Endogamous Metronjrmic Hordes. — We have no means of
knowing how long ago bands of human beings first de-
veloped into true tribal organizations. Yet, while the
actual time that has elapsed since the forms of social
organization began to appear among mankind will prob-
ably never be measured, we can determine with a close
approach to accuracy the successive stages through which
organization has passed in its evolution. In this respect
the study of the history of society is not unlike the study
of geology, in which the measurement of time periods is
all but impossible, while the order in which the successive
rock formations and the successive living species appeared,
j is known with practical certainty.
This knowledge is obtained from two sources. One
is a study of words and usages which, in existing social
organization, are evidently survivals from an earlier time.
The other is a study of the relations of existing social
forms to one another. It enables us to discover which are
{ the earlier and which the later modes of social cooperation.
To pursue the details of such studies, the student must
acquaint himself with the researches of folk-lore, philology,
archaeology, and ethnology.
Without attempting here to enumerate the detailed
evidences upon which they rest, we will, in this chapter,
254
Tribal Society 255
merely summarize the more important conclusions that
have been drawn by competent investigators from materials
of various kinds in regard to the order in which the chief
steps in the evolution of tribal society probably occurred.
The Earliest Hordes. — Long before *here were any
true clans or tribes in human populations, the prevailing
social organization was probably a mere horde in which-
family relations were irregular and unstable, in which de-
scent was traced through mothers only, and in which the
mating of men and women, seldom the result of any inter-
mingling of the members of one group with those of
another, was practically wholly within the group itself,
which could therefore be described as endogamous. It
must be remembered, however, that strictly speaking there
was no such thing as marriage. Marriage is a juridical
relation. It is a form of sexual mating that is approved
or sanctioned by the community. It is a relation analo-
gous to property which, as was explained, consists not in
a mere assertion of ownership and an actual possession of
the object claimed, but rather in the admission and pro-
tection of the claim by the community itself. Property in
this sense, and marriage in this sense, could hardly have
existed in the earliest days of human society.
With this explanation, we may say that the earliest
human communities were probably endogamous metro-
nymic hordes in which were formed unstable family
groups, not unlike those of the Veddahs of Ceylon, the
Mincopis of the Andaman Islands, and the Eskimo of the
North.
One part only of the evidence for this conclusion is of
such general sociological interest that it must be mentioned
here.
256 The Elements of Sociology
In the systems of consanguinity — blood relationship —
found among the least advanced hordes now existing, there
are no such distinctions as those of cousin, uncle and aunt,
nephew and niece. All men and women of the same
generation call themselves brothers and sisters. All women
of the preceding generation are mothers. All men of the
preceding generation are fathers. All boys of the younger
generation are sons. All girls of the younger generation
are daughters. This, of course, is such a system of re-
lationships as would come into existence if a large num-
ber of men and women lived together as a single family.
Extensive philological .researches have demonstrated that
in every part of the world, including western Europe, the
systems of relationship that now prevail were preceded in
prehistoric times by the one that has just been described.
Contributions to Well-being. — Rude as it was, the
primitive metronymic horde developed certain virtues that
were priceless contributions to the happiness of later gen-
erations. In small endogamous groups there grew an
affection that was all the more intense because of its
limited 'range. There developed also a gentleness, a ge-
niality, a kindliness, in the relations of individual to indi-
vidual, which was in utter contrast to the enmity that
doubtless existed between group and group. Curiously
enough, we have in these very words, kindliness, geniality,
and gentleness, a connecting link with those early human
communities ; for every one of these words originally
meant that which pertains to a kindred or group of kin
related through the mother.
Exogamous Metronymic Tribes. — The next step in the
evolution of the forms of social organization became pos-
sible when multiplying hordes drew together in clusters.
Tribal Society 257
and established friendly relations with one another. The
clan and exogamy then appeared.
Origin of Exogamy. — A tendency towards exogamy
doubtless existed in primitive man as an inherited instinct.
Most of the higher animals avoid close' interbreeding.
Strictly speaking the animal instinct is one against the
mating of nest- or house-mates and does not prevent the
mating of near kin if they happen to have been reared
apart. Wherever primitive human hordes maintained such
communication that men and women passed frequently
from one to another, there was probably a tendency
towards the substitution of exogamous for endogamous
mating.
Origin of the Clan. — The clan grew out of the natural
defensive alliance of a household group of brothers and
sisters. This group began to assume an artificial form
whenever individuals unrelated to it in blood were adopted
into it, and other individuals originally members of it and
related to it in blood were expelled from it, on account of
any wrong-doing on their part or prejudice against them
on the part of their brethren.
Such a group, although already partly artificial, would
not be a true clan until it existed beyond one lifetime. It
would become a true clan as soon as it admitted from
among the descendants of its original members either all
offspring of daughters, but not of sons, or all offspring of
sons, but not of daughters. In the early days that we are
now considering, admissions could be made only from the
descendants of daughters.
Just this curious extension and limitation of the mem-
bership of the brotherhood was brought about by the de-
velopment of totemism. Through those primitive habits
258 The Elements of Sociology
of thought that were explained in the preceding chapter,
the members of a brotherhood recognized as kindred with
themselves any person bearing their own totemic name
and mark ; and there was a process whereby the range of
naming and marking necessarily resulted in those admis-
sions and exclusions which would convert the brotherhood
into an organization consisting of all descendants in one
line, and rigorously excluding all descendants in the other
line.
This was the practice, which survives to the present
time in savage groups in many parts of the world, of giving
to a child at birth a charm name or, as it is called in many
tribes, a "medicine," which should afford him protection
and guidance through life. Partly because some names
were more frequently given than others, partly because
of the intellectual poverty of primitive man, and partly
because some names were supposed to be more lucky than
others, it happened that certain totemic names became
common in particular households, and were handed on from
one generation to another ; so that, in course of time, indi-
viduals had, as now, their individual names and the name
common to their household or group.
As soon as totemic group names were continued from
generation to generation, they were inherited by those
tracing descent through mothers, and not by those tracing
descent through fathers. The brotherhood then became a
semi-natural, semi-artificial band, usually including all of
the same totemic name in the mother line of descent,
usually excluding all in the father line of descent ; exclud-
ing also individuals who by birth belonged to it if their con-
duct was intolerable; including also, as adopted members,
those, wherever born, who happened to bear the same to-
Tribal Society 259
temi name, or who, being deliberately adopted, were
delitrately marked with it.
C'igiti of the Tribe. — Clusters of hordes in which a
totinic clan organization had appeared were consolidated
int tribes under the pressure of attack by common ene-
mis or sometimes, perhaps, during migrations, or possibly
though some other necessity not now obvious. Among
tte Andaman Islanders, it is a common occurrence for
h3rdes to come together for temporary cooperation in war-
ire, and then, when the necessity has passed, to break up
»nce more into small bands. Only as the pressure con-
:inues indefinitely through successive generations can per-
manent consolidation under such circumstances be looked
for ; and probably it was through such long-continued
pressure that tribes were originally formed.
When consolidation had been effected, the permanent
subdivision of the resulting tribe was into clans, since the
same clan organizations were found in all, or nearly all, of
the component hordes that entered into the tribe. The dis-
tinction of horde from horde tended to disappear, while
the clan organization became increasingly definite.
Origin of the Phratry. — When tribes and their constit-
uent clans grew to large dimensions, it frequently happened
that the clan organization, becoming too large for a suc-
cessful performance of all its juristic and fraternal func-
tions, divided into sub-clans. Then, in the course of time,
the sub-clans became clans, and maintained the original
clan organization under a new form as a brotherhood of
clans, or a phratry. In this case, two or three of the
functions of the original clan remained to the phratry.
Among these were the conduct of periodical festivities, in
which the members of the different clans belonging to the
26o The Elements of Sociology \
phratry came together for a renewal of their originagood
fellowship. The phratry also conducted funerals atl all
the more important religious ceremonies. Jurisdictia of
capital crimes remained with the phratry, and to it coul be
taken other serious cases, on appeal, from the clan.
Origm of Federations. — When a tribe, becoming in-
wieldy, subdivided and threw off one or more new trihs,
the division was not made by retaining certain clans in ho.
old tribe, and permitting other clans to go into the nw
tribes. It was made by taking a portion of each clai
into each new tribe. Thus it happened that, after a tims
the same clans were distributed throughout many tribes
which were thereby bound together in fraternal relations
These, with their common language, were the basis of the
subsequent confederation in which many tribes were united
in military leagues, and presently consolidated into a tribal;
nation or folk.
Contributions to Well-being. — Metronymic tribal organi-
zation, through its central social form, the clan, substituted
an exogamous metronymic system for the earlier endogamy.
The chief contribution made to human well-being by
this change was the expansion of the idea of kinship.
The totemic clan relation was the first means of extend-
ing the sympathy and affection of intimate blood relatives
to men and women not strictly of the kindred group, even
now and then to actual strangers who, nevertheless, could
be thought of as kin. Narrow and exclusive the social
organization still remained ; but it was less narrow than
in the beginning. The first step had been taken in that
broadening of the consciousness of kind which was ulti-
mately to become inclusive of humanity.
The Patronymic Tribe. — The change from a metronymic
Tribal Society 261
to a patronymic organization seems to have occurred at any
stage in the evolution of tribal society. There have been
instances of its occurrence in small hordes, in organized
tribes, and again after the organization of a metronymic
folk by confederation. '
Wife Capture. — The practice of obtaining wives by
capture has usually been the first step in the transition.
In metronymic society, it is usual for husbands to follow
the residence of the wives' kindred ; to attach themselves
to the brethren and uncles of the wives. The arrange-
ment is well adapted to the perpetuation of the metro-
nymic system of relationships. When, however, wives are
obtained by capture, they are taken to the clan and domi-
cile of the captors ; and, being there deprived of the pro-
tection of their brethren, they fall under the complete
power of their husbands. Professor Tylor has described
communities in which the transition from the metronymic
to the patronymic system is now taking place under the
influence of wife capture. In some of the Malayan tribes
of the Babar Archipelago, " the men usually follow the
women and live in their houses ; and the children belong
to the wife's family. A man may marry as many as seven
wives, who all remain in the houses of their kindred.
But sometimes wives are obtained by robbery, and are
carried off to their husbands' clans. The children then
follow the father and take the father's name. In the Kisar
and Wetar Islands also, the maternal system prevails ; but
it is passing into the paternal system by capture, which
brings wife and children under the husband's control."
A similar state of things which formerly existed in
Arabia is fully described by Robertson Smith in his work
on " Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia."
262 The Elements of Sociology
Separation of husband and wife from the kindred of
the wife, if brought about in any other way than by wife
capture, may have the same consequences. Major Powell,
writing of actual instances of change from metronymic to
patronymic kinship among American Indians, says : *' It
would seem, from such opportunities as I have had to
collect facts in the field, that hunting and other parties
are frequently organized in such a manner that the male
members of a clan group proceed together in company
with their wives and children. Under such circum-
stances, the control of the family necessarily falls into the
hands of the husbands and fathers. This happens among
Pueblo Indians, a matriarchal people with female descent,
whose clans, in consequence of the scarcity -of water for
irrigation in their desert regions, are obliged to separate
widely for the cultivation of lands at a distance from the
central pueblo. The result is that the control of families
and the training of children are temporarily taken out of
the hands of their own kin on the mother's side ; and
with the acquisition of cattle in these new homes comes
a tendency to settle there permanently."
Pastoral Industry. — That a change of kinship may be
effected, however, it is necessary that the husband shall
not only get possession of his wife and her children, but
also keep possession of them. If he abandons them or
sends them back to the mother clan, no patronymic kin-
ship can be established.
A motive for retaining possession of wife and children
came into existence when the horde desired to strengthen
its fighting force by rearing boys, and still further when
the labour of women in field cultivation had become so far
systematized that captured women as well as boys were
Tribal Society 263
useful to the tribe. The motive to retain possession of
offspring attained its maximum strength, however, only
with the appearance of forms of industry that engaged
the interest and efforts of men, and gave value to the
labour of sons. In most parts of the wofld this happened
as a consequence of the domestication of animals. In the
pastoral life was born the desire to multiply herds and
herdsmen, and to transmit property to sons.
Wife Purchase. — As the value of women and children
increased, and as industry in some measure diverted at-
tention from war, marriage by purchase gradually suc-
ceeded marriage by capture. Purchase gave the husband
even greater authority over the wife than he secured
by capture, since his right to a purchased wife could
not be denied by her kinsmen. They wholly surren-
dered her; and she could cherish no hope of restoration
to them.
The husband's authority was further increased by re-
ligion. It often happened that the totemic beliefs of
metronymic tribal communities presented a serious ob-
stacle to the plan of descent through fathers. Children
belonged by birth to the totem of the mother. The
totems of mother and father might be hostile ; and to
count children as socially of the clan of the father, while
they were religiously of the clan of the mother, was to
create a confusion intolerable to the barbarian mind. By
the expedient of adopting the captured or purchased wife
into the clan and totem of the husband, the difficulty was
overcome. Children were then, in every sense, of the
kindred of the father.
Ancestor Worship. — Paternal authority had important
reactions upon religion. Clansmen had always believed
264 "^he Elements of Sociology
that they were descended from their totemic gods.
When, therefore, descent began to be reckoned through
males, changes in the religious system were inevitable.
The male head of a family group was now the type of
authority and power. So regarded in life, he was so
regarded also in death. While the household might
continue to regard natural objects and forces and
miscellaneous spirits with superstitious feelings, they
entertained for the departed stml. of the founder of the
house the stronger feeling of veneration. They thought
of their ancestral spirit as their protector in the land of
shades. To the ancestral spirit, therefore, they paid
their principal devotions. Thus, without entirely dis-
placing other religious observances, ancestor worship
necessarily became a dominant cult.
Ancestor worship is still the household religion of
China and Japan. Many traces of it remain in the desert
tribes of Arabia. All of the historical Semitic peoples
were ancestor worshippers in their days of tribal organiza-
tion. The Aryans were ancestor worshippers when they
first appeared on the shores of the Mediterranean ; and
among the Romans this religion of the household hearth
disappeared only with the triumph of Christianity.
In its turn, ancestor worship reacted upon domestic life
and upon the structure of clan and tribe. It established
the supreme authority of the father in the household, and
even resulted in that extreme development of authority
known at Rome as the patria potestas. To the clan,
ancestor worship gave a more distinctly religious char-
acter. The gentiles preserved the tradition of the wor-
ship of their eponymous ancestor, they maintained his
tomb, and united there in periodical sacrifices, after the
Tribal Society 265
manner so frequently described by Greek and Roman
writers. Under the influence of male descent and ances-
tor worship, clan headships and tribal chieftainships
tended to become hereditary in certain families. In
metronymic society, the office that could* not descend to
a son often descended to a nephew, whom the electors
preferred to any other candidate on account of his rela-
tionship to one who was successful as a counsellor or
leader. In the ancestor worshipping patronymic group,
there always was a strong belief that the son of a great
man was his most suitable successor in office, because it
was thought that the spirit of the father watched over the
son's doings, and aided him with supernatural guidance.
Advantages of Patronymic KinsJiip. — In numerous
ways, the change from metronymic to patronymic kinship
was of great advantage to society.
It greatly increased the homogeneity and definiteness
of the family group on the disciplinary and moral side.
At first thought, one might suppose that the relations of
children to parents would be practically the same whether
descent were traced through the mother or through the
father. Such, however, has never been practically the
case. Many intelligent readers, and not a few writers
on the early history of institutions, have fallen into the
error of supposing that metronymic society was also matri-
archal ; in other words, that it was governed by women
instead of men. There is not a shred of evidence that
any such state of affairs ever existed. So far as matters
of government were concerned, the difference between
metronymic and patronymic society was solely one of
the relative authority of different men. In the metro-
nymic clan, power and authority resided, not in husbands
\
266 The Elements of Sociology
and fathers, but in brothers and uncles. It was just as
much a masculine authority as has ever existed in patro-
nymic communities.
The effect upon children, however, was by no means
the same. A child was more likely than not to have
numerous uncles on his mother's side ; and in the metro-
nymic clan, each one asserted authority over him. He
was thus subject to an irregular rule and a divided respon-
sibility. But when clans began to trace relationships in
the male line, the child came under the sole and single
authority of one man, his father. All other authority was
subordinate. The same was true of other members of the
household. The household was no longer subject to the
uncertain rule of a group or council, but to the single
authority of one responsible head.
Patronymic relationships, in like manner, gave greater
cohesion and homogeneity to the village community.
In metronymic society, the camp or village was a loose
organization, because a majority of those who belonged to
the same clan were women and children. The men might
belong to many different clans. The unmarried brothers
and male cousins of the women were members of the
women's clan, while the various husbands were from other
clans. This would have been an unimportant matter if
the women had been rulers. The fighting strength and
all the real authority, however, lay with the men, and
therefore the metronymic camp or village had no military
or juristic unity. If a quarrel broke out between two
clans, the men of the same camp or village were arrayed
against each other — an occurrence that has frequently
been observed in Australian tribes.
With the transition to patronymic kinship, the village
Tribal Society 267
became homogeneous in this matter of authority and fight-
ing strength. The men and boys now constituted a major-
ity of the clansmen who lived together in any place. The
wives were of different clans. Consequently, the fighting
strength, the moral authority, and the tlan relationships
were now, for the first time, united in the same group of
individuals.
The transition to patronymic relationship made the reli-
gious community also homogeneous. As was explained,
the religious community includes, besides its living human
members, all the friendly spirits and ghosts, and all the
natural objects that are supposed to be of the kindred.
In metronymic totemic society, the religious community
thus includes human beings, plants, animals, streams, rocks,
mountains, ghosts, and whatever else is worshipped. In
the patronymic community, the principal spirits and gods
are the ghosts of departed human members of the group.
The religious community has thus come to consist chiefly
of living human beings and human spirits, and to be in
a high degree homogeneous. The chief result of this
greater homogeneity is a great strengthening of social
bonds, especially of those that unite one generation to
another and increase the authority of tradition.
Tribal Feudalism. — Patronymic tribes in which chief-
tainship has become hereditary have usually, sooner or
later, undergone changes of organization that have greatly
modified the original tribal character, and have established
a rude kind of feudalism.
Observations of tribal society in every part of the world
have established the conclusion that it is the habit of
tribesmen to bestow large gifts upon their chieftains.
Especially is this true when the tribes are much engaged
268 The Elements of Sociology
in war or in plundering expeditions. The successful
chieftain receives from his followers a large share of the
booty of conquest. The riches thus obtained he, in turn,
is able to bestow upon his personal favourites. By this
means, he binds to himself those followers who most
faithfully minister to his ambitions. These are the primi-
tive forms of comme7idatio and beneficiiim.
When patronymic tribes entered upon pastoral pursuits
and became wealthy in cattle, these relations acquired
a great importance. The chief not only inherited his
father's herds, but on every ceremonial occasion he re-
ceived presents of cattle from the tribe. He levied fines
and confiscations which were paid in kine. At every
opportunity he organized excursions to steal cattle from
neighbouring tribes. Dispensing favours and enriching
favourites, he was soon able to control formidable bands
of retainers.
Through the favouritism of the chief, these retainers
themselves became powerful men, and not infrequently
strong enough to set up their own authority against that
of the tribal organization. The chief had received from
his tribesmen not only cattle but the right to pasture
them on the outlying borders of the tribal domain. This
right he extended to his followers who thus had the oppor-
tunity to become wealthy, powerful, and independent if
they, in their turn, could obtain bands of adventurous
followers. They usually experienced no difficulty in find-
ing such, since, in a disturbed state of society continually
engaged in war and plunder, there were many ruined men,
the survivors of tribes that had been broken up, and crimi-
nals who, for some offence against clan law, had been
driven forth from the communities in which they were
Tribal Society 269
born. Such broken men were glad to attach themselves to
any chieftain or chieftain's favourite who would employ
them. The final step in the development of the indepen-
dent power of the chief or of his ambitious retainer was to
use his lawless bands in committing depre4ations on weaker
tribes and in stealing their cattle. Deprived of posses-
sions, conquered tribes could subsist then only by bor-
rowing stock back from the arrogant cow-noblemen, —
as they are called in the old Brehon law of Ireland, — who
thus became receivers of regular tributes and of rents.
All historical peoples probably passed through the stage
of pastoral feudalism. The best picture of it that re-
mains to us is that disclosed in the pages of the Brehon
law.
Benefits of Tribal Feudalism. — Rude and brutal as it
was, tribal feudalism was a distinct advance in social
evolution.
It gave play to natural selection in the development of
leadership. Any man of sufficient force could break over
the barriers reared by custom and tradition in the tribal
organization, and make himself an independent leader of
men. Under such conditions, the men endowed by nature
with the qualities of leadership were sure to come to the
front.
It introduced in human society what Mr. Mallock calls
the struggle for domination as distinguished from the
struggle for existence. In the struggle for existence men
and animals are engaged in the effort to obtain subsist-
ence, to overcome enemies, to adapt themselves to climate
and other natural conditions of existence. In the struggle
for domination, men of superior powers are engaged in the
effort to lead and organize their less competent fellows
270 The Elements of Sociology
in those activities that grow out of and constitute the
struggle for existence. In the later stages of human evo-
lution, successful leadership has been the most important
single factor in the struggle for existence. It is, therefore,
impossible to overestimate the importance of a stage in
the development of human society which introduced and
once for all established the struggle for domination.
In tribal feudalism, finally, appeared the beginnings of
|ocial organization on the basis of mental and moral
•esemblance, irrespective of kinship. Although clan and
[tribe continued to be organized on the gentile principle,
the retainers of the chieftains, or the followers of retainers,
might themselves be men of any tribe. No question of
relationship was asked ; it was only necessary that they
should be loyal adherents, faithful in their allegiance to
their chosen leader and protector. The development of
tribal feudalism was the first step towards that momentous
change which was finally to break down tribal organization
and substitute for it the civil organization of society on
the basis of industrial and political association, irrespective
of the limitations of blood relationship.
The Ethnic Nation. — Confederations of patronymic tribes
of the same racial stock were formed, as confederations of
metronymic tribes had been formed, under the pressure of
a common danger or the inspiration of a common ambi-
tion. They have always been more coherent, more formi-
dable, and more stable than the strongest of metronymic
confederations. Only patronymic confederations have de-
veloped into great states or nations. The Egyptians, the
Chaldeans, the Hebrews, the Greeks, the Romans, the
Saxons, the Franks, the Germans, and the Slavs were
originally tribally organized peoples which, by growth.
Tribal Society 271
confederation, and consolidation, developed into national
states.
When patronymic tribes confederate and form the
ethnic nation, the agnatic principle and ancestor wor-
ship, combined with political and milftary conditions,
confer great authority upon the chief of the confedera-
tion. He becomes a military leader, a religious leader or
priest, and a supreme judge, all in one. The chief, in a
word, becomes a king.
With the achievement of confederation and the estab-
lishment of kingship, ethnogenic evolution is completed.
A gentile folk or ethnos has come into existence. Its
further development, if evolution is not arrested at this
point, carries it in to the new conditions of civilization.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Morgan^s "Ancient Society," Part II ; Tacitus's " Germania " ;
and Maine's " Early History of Institutions," Lectures I-Vl inclusive.
CHAPTER XXII
Civilization
Migration and Settlement. — The ethnic society that has
become partly feudalized and has reached the stage of
confederation and kingship is facing conditions that will
further transform its organization. It is increasing in
wealth and in population; and it must resort to system-
atic agriculture. But the rapid evolution of energy that
is taking place is followed by expenditures in lawlessness
and restlessness. The semi-feudal chiefs and their retain-
ers are by no means willing to settle down to agricultural
life. To conquer and plunder and to compel a conquered
population to do agricultural labour, is a more attractive
programme.
Accordingly, we find that patronymic tribal confeder-
acies have seldom established themselves in agricultural
industry on the territory where they originated. They
have entered upon a career of migration and conquest.
Such was the history of the nomad tribes that overran
Egypt; of the Assyrian tribes that overran the Akka-
dians; of the Hebrews, the Greeks, the Latins, and the
Germans.
When the enterprise has been successful, and an alien
people has been subjugated, the conquered territory has
become the permanent home of the conquerors.
272
Civilization 273
The first effect of conquest has been a varied demotic
composition. Aggregations of racially related groups
have been brought into close contact with populations of
a different race or sub-race under conditions that have
made social and demotic amalgamation inevitable.
The evidences are inexhaustible that the great historical \
peoples were created by the superposition of races or sub-
races. I
From the earliest times the valleys of the Euphrates
and the Tigris, Palestine and Asia Minor, were meeting
and mingling places of races. Among the peoples that
occupied Palestine before the Hebrew conquest were
Amorites of the Celto-Lybian or blonde European race,
Phoenicians or Canaanites of the Hamitic race, and many
tribes of the Semitic race. Farther to the northwest, in
Asia Minor, a like primitive population of commingled
Celto-Lybian, Hamitic, and Semitic races was overrun at
an early period by conquering warrior tribes of the Medi-
terranean stock, Lycians, Lydians, Phrygians, and Carians,
who came across the Hellespont from Thrace. In Greece,
the Hellenic tribes superposed themselves upon the prim-
itive population of Pelasgians; in Italy the Latin and
Sabine tribes overran the Etruscans and the Umbrians.
In England, within the historic period, Saxons and Danes «>
have been superposed upon Celts, and Normans upon
Saxons and Danes; and back of these conquests and
comminglings there were throughout Europe, in prehis-
toric times, successive overflowings of population by pop-
ulation, of which evidences survive in stone and bronze
implements, burial barrows, and skulls.
Sovereignty and Institutions. — When a tribally organ-
ized people has established itself upon a conquered ter-
I
274 The Elements of Sociology
ritory, and has been obliged to define its relations to a
subject race, an active development of the political phases
of the social mind has always followed.
Sovereignty has then assumed a more definite form and
a more positive character. Embodied in the council of a
metronymic confederacy, sovereignty could hardly appear
to free tribesmen as a power to compel obedience. Em-
bodied in the hereditary king of a patronymic people, it
could be thought of as a right to command. Even then,
however, it could be regarded only as a semi-divine author-
ity over the people, and not as an authority inherent in the
people. But when, by united action, an entire people has
imposed its rule upon a subjugated race, sovereignty has
been revealed in its true character as the supreme expres-
sion of the social will — as a law-making and an obedi-
ence-compelling power to which every member of the state
c/)ntributes his individual authority and his might.
From this time on, therefore, sovereignty reacts vigor-
ously upon the whole organization of society. The social
mind, which has long reflected upon social relations,
has hitherto expressed its approval and its disapproval
through the ancient customs of clan and tribe. Now it
begins to convert its judgments into formal decrees.
Compelled by the contact of a ruling and a subject pop-
ulation to face new problems of organization, it begins
systematically to review the social system as it has
hitherto reviewed the conduct of individuals, and to say
explicitly what relations will be tolerated. Thus the rela-
tions that are expressly authorized and sanctioned are con-
verted into positive institutions.
Sovereignty necessarily acts through the social constitu-
tion, especially through the organs of government. For
Civilization 275
this reason the social constitution presently becomes supe-
rior in power and authority to the social composition/
Accordingly, the first institutions are those of govern-
ment and religion — the kingship and the priesthood. At
this time, however, religious, military, and political func-
tions are all united in the king. Government is theocratic, .
but there is no church.
As yet, however, the social constitution is not separated
from the social or from the demotic composition. There-
fore in converting the organs of government into positive
institutions, the sovereign will of the people necessarily
converts confederacy, tribe, clan, and family also into "^
institutions. For a time, sovereignty accepts and sanc-
tions the forms of these organizations that have been
established by custom. It accepts and sanctions also the
established distinctions in rank. When a confederated
folk that has become feudal and monarchical takes pos-
session of a conquered territory, it is already differentiated
into royal, noble, free, and servile families. These dis--
tinctions of the social composition are now made the basis
of the hierarchy of power, authority, and service in the
social constitution. This identity of the social composition
with the social constitution long persists.
The conquerors, nevertheless, notwithstanding great
differences of rank among themselves, in social functions ^^
remain sharply separated from the conquered. There is
an identity of the social constitution with the composi-
tion of the population that is not soon destroyed. The
conquerors become a religious, military, and political class, ^^
and the conquered an industrial class. As the ruling
class possesses the soil and forces the subject popula-
^ tion to cultivate it, there is no separation of the industrial
u/
276 The Elements of Sociology
from the political organization of the community. The
institutional organization of government, therefore, makes
it necessary to convert industrial relations into a third
group of positive institutions ; namely, those of property,
and of slavery, or of serfdom.
Thus the conquerors reserve to themselves all directive
functions and organize themselves as a governing society.
The conquered are organized as an industrial society, and
are compelled to do directed labour.
Developed Feudalism. — If the conquered territory is rela-
tively wide in extent, so that the conquering tribes make
but a scattered population in their new dominions, the
semi-feudal organization, which arose before the migration,
develops into that territorial feudalism which is familiar
to readers of history.
The conquered domain has been divided among tribes
and subdivided among clans ; but the king, if there is one,
and the great chieftains have received tracts over which
their control is practically absolute, and their authority
over the strictly tribal lands also tends continually to
increase. If, for a long period, the state of society is
unsettled, tribal lands become fiefs — tenures under a
lord — through voluntary surrender. Every reader of
European history knows how great a part voluntary
surrender played in the development of continental feu-
dalism before the eleventh century. Harassed by ma-
rauding bands, the weaker owners gladly made over
their holdings to some powerful chieftain in exchange
for his protection.
In this larger development of feudalism, wealth in
lands plays a more important part than wealth in cattle ;
and for this reason feudalism is often described as a
^
Civilization 277
system of land tenure. Strictly speaking, however, feu-
dalism is a form of social organization, in which land
tenure, or cattle ownership, or any other mode of prop-
erty, is merely an incident. Developed feudalism, however,
is in several important respects different <from the earlier
tribal feudalism out of which it grew. The chief differ-
ence is found in the hereditary character of the fiefs of
territorial feudalism. Great as was the power of maraud-
ing chieftains in later tribal days, the tribes themselves
usually retained the ultimate control over land. The
holdings given by a chieftain to his followers were usually
for a lifetime only. In the later feudalism, after voluntary
surrender in exchange for protection had completely de-
stroyed the earlier authority of tribe or clan, fiefs descended ^
as hereditary possessions. The feudalism of western Eu-
rope was further complicated by forms of Roman law
that had survived the destruction of the Roman Empire.
On account of these complications, the records of Middle
Age European feudalism are not, in all respects, the best
materials for the student who is obtaining his first im-
pressions of the subject. Clear pictures of a rude feudal
organization of society subsequent to territorial conquest
are presented in the book of Judges in the Old Testament
and in the Odyssey of Homer.
Feudalism has always attained its highest development
in sparse populations. This condition and its own charac-
ter have made it a powerful decentralizing influence. It
has always tended to weaken the power of the king and
to disguise the essential unity of the people. Political
sovereignty, therefore, has been for a time less definite
after the complete establishment of territorial feudalism '
than it was at the moment of migration and conquest.
2/8 The Elements of Sociology
Nevertheless, it remains inherent in the people. The
king's word is still its supreme declaration. The con-
version of social relations into definite institutions does
not cease, and the social organization becomes continually
more efficient.
The Rise of Towns. — Even under feudalism, therefore,
life and property are made more secure than they were
in nomadic days. Population and wealth increase.
The differentiation of town from rural life now begins.
The local agricultural group at this time is a village
community; and the social organization of the country
population in general is manorial in form. The soil is
periodically apportioned among its cultivators — a prac-
tice that has survived from the days of their common
possession as clansmen ; but the cultivators now are ser-
vile. They no longer own as clans or tribes (as individ-
uals they never owned) the land that they till. They
render service and pay tribute to a lord. Cities, in the
modern sense of the word, do not yet exist. There are
no centres of dense population ; but there are centres
of worship and defence, sacred places to which men
gather from near and far to make periodical sacrifices
to their tribal deities. These homes of the gods are
fortified. The people flee to them in times of danger.
They are centres of administration and justice ; for here
kings and judges hold their court. In the course of
time, tribal chiefs and elders, priests and military leaders,
establish their permanent homes in these holy places.
Garrisons of soldiers are permanently stationed near
them. Artisans and labourers are brought to them to care
for the temple, to build the fortifications, and to manu-
facture weapons, armour, and clothing for the soldiers.
Civilization 279
Trade. — The currents of trade begin now to flow
steadily towards these centres of religious and social
life. The periodical festivals and sacrifices afford oppor-
tunities for exchange. A brisk barter is carried on by
the assembled clansmen. Cattle, corn ^nd fruits, metal
work and woven fabrics, armour and utensils, salts, spices
and gums, wines and oils, incense and perfumes, pass
from owner to owner. The religious festival becomes a
great fair and market.
Little by little, the intervals between the periodical
fairs are shortened. The population that has gathered
around the religious and military nucleus steadily in-
creases. Local manufactures are multiplied and trade
becomes an everyday affair.
Money. — The division of labour between city and coun-
try, which Adam Smith described as the fundamental
industrial differentiation, is now fully established. Agri-
cultural produce is now regularly brought to town for .
the subsistence of the urban population ; and the wares
that are most often purchased by countrymen are regu-
larly manufactured for sale. Considerable accumulations
of free capital in such concrete forms as cattle, grain,
implements, and stores of manufactured goods have by
this time been made. Some one commodity has been
exchanged more frequently than any other, and men have
discovered that with it they can purchase any commodity
that they may desire. Whatever this specially well-known
and highly valued commodity may be, whether oxen or
grain, salt, iron, copper, beads, shells, or precious metals,
it is a true medium of exchange; and as soon as by a
common or tacit consent it is everywhere accepted in
discharge of debts, it is a true money.
28o The Elemettts of Sociology
The Merchant Class. — The appearance of money is
followed by the development of a merchant class, which
could not sooner have come into existence because the
merchant must have the means to purchase all kinds of
wares, and must be able to hold them in stock. He must,
therefore, be able to offer in payment that which will be
universally acceptable. From this time forth, the artisan
and the husbandman no longer deal directly with one
another : each sells to the merchant and buys from him ;
and the merchant class becomes a principal element in
the town population.
Citizenslilp. — Industry and commerce weaken the tribal
bonds already impaired by feudalism. To the centres
of trade come men of alien tribes in search of economic
gain, as they did in Greece where, as early as the time
of Lycurgus, there was already a steady immigration
from the Mediterranean Islands and from the Ionian
settlements of the eastern coast.
Unattached to the tribes with which they have cast
their fortunes, but acquiring wealth and power, the mis-
cellaneous elements of a town population demand juristic
y/ and political rights. Persons of distinction may get them-
selves adopted into a clan or may secure the admission
of their own clan into a tribe ; but these privileges are not
generally accorded. It is evident that some other than
the gentile basis must be found for the organization of
the state. The institution-making power of sovereignty is
compelled to deal with a wholly novel problem.
\/ Commercial rights are granted with but little hesitation.
The foreign born are allowed, as they were at Rome, the
full protection of the local law in all affairs of trade.
Rights of intermarriage, however, between the newer and
Civilization 281
the older population are withheld as long as possible.
To permit the alien to marry into a local clan is to admit
the wife to the worship of strange gods, and seems likely
to end in intrusting to strangers the solemn sacrifices to
the city's dead. So serious an innovation is not permitted
until revolutionary pressure becomes irresistible.
When, however, the trading class presently outnumbers
the older population, and greatly surpasses it in wealth,
it becomes clear that the unorganized but prosperous
multitude cannot peripanently be exempted from the duty
of supporting and of defending the state ; and that unless
in some manner it is incorporated in the body politic, it can
overthrow the city that has sheltered it. It then becomes
evident to all that the ancestral gods whose worship has
been kept pure by the restrictions of the marriage laws are
now in danger of a violent destruction.
It is not, however, an easy matter to discover the best
means of incorporating in a tribal state a heterogeneous
multitude of unrelated men. The history of Athens and
of Rome records many unsuccessful attempts to deal with
this problem. Among these was one associated with the
name of the legendary hero Theseus, who organized
society by classes ; namely, the well-born, the husband-
men, and the artisans. This was evidently an attempt
to make feudal relationships and the relationship created
by conquest the basis of the social system, in place of
kinship. Next was made an attempt to organize society
on a basis of property and military service. All freemen,
though not connected with any clan, were enrolled in the
army, and were given a certain voice in public affairs.
The successful plan finally hit upon is associated with
the name of Cleisthenes. It was exceedingly simple in
l^
282 The Elements of Sociology
principle; and it has continued to the present time.
Clans and tribes had long been localized. Their names
had become permanently associated with definite territo-
rial limits over which they claimed jurisdiction. Within
each territorial subdivision were both clansmen and stran-
gers. The state simply decreed that all men who lived
within the boundaries of any local subdivision of a tribal
domain should be enrolled as members of the local com-
munity which dwelt there ; that all who dwelt within the
domain of any tribe should be en^^olled as members of
that tribe. Kinship might still be traced by those who
cared about it ; every one could retain his clan name and
his religious rites according to ancestral custom. In other
words, the gentile system might be continued for social and
religious purposes ; but for juristic, political, and military
purposes men were organized by territorial relations, irre-
spective of kinship.
Thus, at length, the gentile was converted into the civil
organization of society. Gradually, tribal lines were more
or less artificially redrawn ; and at length it was forgotten
that local boundaries ever marked tribal domains, and that
village names were once the names of clans or of subdivi-
sions of clans.
This transition took place before or soon after the
beginning of the historical period in every ancient state,
— in Egypt, in Babylonia, in Greece, and in Rome. At a
later time, it took place in every nation founded by the
Germanic tribes that overran the Roman Empire. There,
however, it was furthered and hastened by the contact
with Roman institutions.
The Civic Nation. — It is not to be supposed, however,
that the creation of the territorial state obliterates the
Civilization 283
thought of an ethnic unity. It only subordinates it to a
higher ideal, in which the conception of territorial unity is
given a more important place than it has hitherto held.
The state still consciously strives to secure the ethnic
unity of its population ; but the attempt ^s not now to pre-
serve the purity of an ancient blood. It is rather to per-
fect a new ethnic unity that is to emerge from the blending
of many elements. The consciousness of kind has broad- ^
ened ; the possibilities of assimilation are perceived ; it is
realized that men who have identified their interests with
those of an ancient race, who have learned its language
and adopted its religion, may, by these means, become
identified with it in spirit, and ultimately, through inter-
marriage, may become united with it in blood. Through
the influence of this idea, the fiction of adoption is pre-
served in the law of naturalization.
The Spirit and Policies of Civilization. — Animated by
its enlarged ideas of ethnic and territorial unity, the state
enters upon the realization of a positive policy. It en-
deavours to bring under one sovereignty all related peoples ^
that speak allied languages and that have like interests.
It endeavours to bring under one administration all frag-
ments of territory that together form a natural whole for
purposes of commerce, social intercourse, and military
defence.
At this stage, for the first time, the essential spirit of
civilization is disclosed. That spirit is nothing more or
less than a passion for homogeneity. It is a resistless
desire of the social mind to secure to the utmost possible
degree sympathetic and formal like-mindedness through-
out a population that is believed to have the capacity for
assimilation ; to perfect a social composition that also
284 The Elements of Sociology
shall be homogeneous throughout, and to establish over it
jl a supreme and unified social constitution.
*^ Militarism. — This spirit now begins to work itself out
through various means, the first of which is a career of
aggression and conquest to bring into the enlarging state
all those outlying populations that are believed to be suit-
able components of the larger nation. This necessitates a
perfect internal cohesion. Every interest is sacrificed to
military discipline. To a great extent the organization of
society becomes coercive ; and to a great degree individual
freedom is sacrificed.
All this has its evil side ; but it has also its good side
which must not be overlooked. Military discipline was
/ one of the first and most powerful means by which assimi-
lation was brought about and a certain degree of formal
like-mindedness was established throughout the early civie
nation.
When conquest and military organization have accom-
plished their immediate purpose, and many petty states
and more or less heterogeneous populations have been
consolidated, the passion for homogeneity manifests itself
in further policies, the object of which is to perfect the
general conformity of the entire population to a prevail-
ing type ; that is to say, to increase the formal like-mind-
edness of the entire population of the nation and to perfect
the homogeneity of the social composition.
Religious Unificatio7t. — The first of these is the reli-
J gious policy. Religion, which has long been a medley of
ancestral faiths, is made national and organic. Family,
gentile, and local gods are thoroughly subordinated to the
national god, who is represented by the king and the cen-
tralized priesthood. The national religion is thus made
Civilization 285
by its sanctions to uphold the authority of the central
administration. Divine qualities are imputed to the king,
as they were in Egypt, in Judea, and in the France of
Louis XIV, as they are imputed even to-day to the
Czar of Russia ; and he is encouraged to assert arbitrary
powers.
If much difficulty is experienced in securing homoge-
neity of religious faith and ceremonial, a policy of perse-
cution is commonly adopted. Obstinate adherents to old
faiths are subjected to such penalties as political disabil-
ities, loss of property, imprisonment, or torture ; and, if
these are insufficient, to death. The story of this policy
is a large part of the history of every nation.
Sumptuary Administration. — Another policy, having
in view the same end of conformity and homogeneity, is
a minute regulation of individual right and conduct. The ^
food that shall be eaten, the costumes that shall be worn,
the ceremonials that shall be observed, the professions
and callings that shall be followed, are all minutely de-
scribed, to the end that men shall act alike, feel alike, and
think alike, as members of a compact and closely unified
national community.
All this, like militancy, has its evil side ; but in the days
of nation making, it has also its good side. It undoubtedly
does promote the desired end, and results in the creation
of a homogeneous population.
Isolation. — ^ When national unity and power have fairly
been achieved, and the nation is in no immediate danger
of overthrow by more powerful enemies, a further policy
often carried out is that of isolation. Feeling the supe- ^
riority of its culture and institutions to those of other
peoples, the nation endeavours in a measure to cut itself
286 The Elements of Sociology
off from intercourse with them, lest foreign laws and man-
ners shall corrupt, contaminate, and disintegrate the na-
tional life. This policy may perhaps have its justification
under exceptional circumstances ; but usually it has been
a step towards national decay. It has been a chief factor
in producing what are called "arrested civilizations," like
those of China and Persia.
Unstable and Stable Civilizations. — Conquest has not
always ended when political integration has gone to the
limit of absorbing those weaker states that are territorially
adjacent to the conquering power, and are in their popu-
lation and social forms fit to become component societies
in a larger national state. In history ambition has repeat-
edly overleaped its proper bounds, and visions of universal
empire have arisen before the eyes of powerful monarchs.
Egypt, Babylon, Nineveh, Macedonia, Rome, Carthage,
and again Rome, one after the other, undertook to con-
quer the world. Distant peoples that never could be an
integral part of the conquering nation were subjugated in
mere wantonness of power. While all such conquests
were destined to result in ultimate failure, they had for
the time being certain good consequences for civilization.
The conquered peoples were made to pay tribute to the
conquerors, whose capital cities increased enormously in
wealth. This wealth resulted in marvellous material
splendour, and in a high development of art in its first
rude forms of architecture, sculpture, and painting.
The early civilizations, including that of the Roman
Empire, were essentially unstable because their fabulous
and magnificent wealth was a continual temptation to the
barbarians of the outer world who, after incursions for
thousands of years into the valleys of the Nile and the
Civilization 287
Euphraces, into the Grecian Peninsula, and into Italy,
finally overwhelmed the Roman Empire.
But the Germanic nations, simultaneously prepared
for civilization by their own inherent development and
by their long contact with Rome, entered upon politi-
cal evolution under precisely opposite conditions. They
simultaneously grew into statehood in an environment
of civilization which, for ages, had lain between them and
the more remote barbarism of central Africa and central
Asia; and on the partial ruins of the western extension
of that civilization they built. Protected thus in great
measure from the danger of barbarian invasion, a danger
which only twice in the history of Europe has become
imminent, — once when the Huns swept in from the Asian
plains, and once when the Moors, having conquered Spain,
invaded France, — western or modern civilization has re-
mained essentially stable.
Growing side by side and too nearly equal in power for
any one of them to hope to maintain supremacy over any
other, the modern western nations passed through the
first stage of civilization, that, namely, of political inte-
gration and of a rough, effective organization of a central
governing power, with less suppression of the minor inter-
ests of life than occurred in Egypt and in the East. Mili-
tancy has never been carried to quite the same excess
among them. Isolation and religious uniformity have
never been quite as rigorously enforced, although in Eu-
ropean history there have been fierce religious persecu-
tions, especially in France and in Spain, undertaken for
the purpose of perfecting that formal like-mindedness
which consists in homogeneity of belief.
The Nature and Benefits of Civilization. — What have been
288 The Elements of Sociology
the chief benefits conferred upon mankind, and what new
features have been contributed by civilization ?
V Civilization is the first stage of demogenic association.
As zoogenic association was that earliest social intercourse
which developed the forms of animal life ; as anthropo-
genic association was that more varied intercourse which
created the human mind; as ethnogenic association was
that organized intercourse which created a folk ; so demo-
genic association is that intercourse, both varied and organ-
ized, which develops great civic peoples, ever increasing
in wealth and in population, and ever growing more demo-
£_cratic in mind.
Civilization cannot be defined in a phrase, because it
includes many things, all of which are essential. It con-
sists in the adoption of a permanent territorial home and
of habits of settled life ; in the supremacy of the state and,
therefore, of the social constitution over the entire social
composition; in the substitution of mental and moral re-
semblance for kinship, as a basis of social organization;
in the assimilation of various population elements in a
new and larger ethnic unity; in an integration of the
social composition ; and in an increasing homogeneity in
politics, religion, manners, and habits. Chief among these
elements of civilization, however, is that sympathetic and
formal like-mindedness which is unlimited by ties of kin-
ship and which, manifesting itself in a passion for homo-
geneity in the nation, creates those policies of military
. discipline, religious conformity, and moral requirement
j^ that result in national and social unity.
The homogeneity of the civic nation has had two con-
sequences without which those further developments of
society and of human life to be described under the head
Civiliza Hon 289
of Progress could not have appeared. It will be remem-
bered that in the account of the character and efficiency
of social organization, it was shown that liberty de-
pends upon homogeneity in the population. In its ear-
liest stages, civilization allowed little freedom to the
individual. It permitted no growth of the voluntary
forms of organization in the social constitution. But by
hastening the processes of assimilation, by eliminating
irreconcilable differences from the social population, by
creating homogeneity, sympathetic and formal like-minded-
ness, it did prepare populations for liberty later on. I: ^
made men fit for the self-government and the voluntary
enterprise of a second stage of demogenic association.
By bringing allied populations together in one embra-
cing political organization, by perfecting the machinery of
.government, by eliminating causes of antagonism, civiliza-
tion has also put an end to innumerable forms of conflict,
to innumerable unnoticed wastes of energy, and so has
liberated, for other expenditures, enormous stores of
mental and physical force. The energies thus saved
from waste and set free have been the cause of endless
variation, differentiation, and progress in later times.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Bagehot's " Physics and Politics " ; Spencer's " Principles of Soci-
ology," Volume II, Part V, Chapter XVII ; Brooks Adams's "The Law
of Civilization and Decay " ; and Kidd's " The Control of the Tropics."
In European history, study the rise of the Roman Empire, the rise oi
the empire of Charlemagne, feudalism and chivalry, the reign of Philip
Augustus, the persecution of the Huguenots, and the reign of Louis
XIV ; and read Buckle's sketch of the history of Spain in the " Intro-
duction to the History of Civilization in England."
CHAPTER XXIII
Progress
The Nature and Causes of Progress. — In saying that the
establishment of civilization is the first stage of demogenic,
or civic, evolution, wq do not refer to any particular
ITperiod of time. Stages of social evolution are not chrono-
V LJpgical periods. They are like stages in the growth of a
tree, v\^hose stem and branches must attain size "and
strength before there can be blossom and fruit, or like the
seven ages of man, except that no nation has ever reached
■ a second childhood. Therefore, in the study of demogenic
evolution, whether our example is a nation that lived and
perished ages ago, or one that is only now emerging from
tribal organization, we have, before all else, to observe suc-
; cessive stages of development. The facts set forth in the
preceding chapter, then, whether they appeared in the
\ history of the world before the Christian era, or whether
they appear now, are facts of the first stage only of civic
national life.
A second stage of demogenic evolution begins whenever
the nation learns to appreciate the value of unlike-minded-
ness in the population ; the value of doubt, scepticism, and
denial in the social mind ; the value of individual initiative
and voluntary organization ; the value, in short, of variation
and criticism, as causes of progress. In other words, whi'
civilization is established by sympathetic and formal liki
290
Progress i 291
mindedness, a social organization that is no longer fixed,
unyielding, hardening into a rigid system that must pres-
ently decay, but is becoming ever more variable, flexible,
adaptable, in a word, progressive, is a product of un- /
like-mindedness, discussion, and agreement, and of the
resulting rational like-mindedness.
On the side of the social mind, then, the second stage of )
civic evolution is the gradual subordination of formal to
rational like-mindedness. On the side of social organiza-
tion, it is the growth of the free or voluntary forms of
purposive association, replacing the arbitrary coercive^
forms of a military system ; and in the relation of the
individual to social organization, it is the substitution of
liberty for authority and coercion.
In common use the word ''civilization " is applied to civic
national life in all its phases and in every stage of its de-
velopment. This use is convenient and legitimate. If,
however, we follow it in sociological analysis, we must em-
ploy modifying words to distinguish the successive stages
of civic evolution. So doing, we may speak of that first
stage which was described in the preceding chapter as a
military-religious civilization. The second stage of civic
evolution is a liberal-legal civilization. The forms of con-
stitutional law and of free contract have replaced those of
despotic authority and of "divine right."
Free Energy. — The causes of the variation, criticism,
and liberality of the second stage of civic evolution are
themselves generated in the first stage, as has been indi-
cated. Homogeneity prepares the way for freedom. The
saving of human energy by means of successful political
prganization provides the store of energy for voluntary en-
cerprise in new undertakings of various kinds.
292 The Elements of Sociology
The chief liberation of energy, however, occurs when,
through successful military operations, all formidable ene-
mies have been subjugated, and all outlying territories
have been annexed. The very success of such undertak-
ings brings the occupation of hundreds of thousands of
men to an end. With no more worlds to conquer, they
perforce turn to other than military occupations.
At this point in the evolution of empires, it has always
happened that great internal changes have begun. Liber-
y ated thought and energy have turned themselves upon
domestic affairs. They have scrutinized institutions and
laws. They have rebelled against a further coercion of
the individual. Not infrequently, they have instigated
revolutions. The material for the criticism of institutions
has been abundant, since contact with other nations in
military expeditions, and the annexation of state after
state to the growing empire, have brought into its own sys-
tem peoples, laws, manners, customs hitherto foreign and
more or less strange. So much material for comparison
has inevitably shown many differences as well as many
resemblances in social constitutions and policies, and has
yielded many suggestions for the modification or the reform
of central and local governments.
The Plastic Mind. — Still more important has been the
great admixture of elements in the population in conse-
quence of war, conquest, slavery, and trade. Both physi-
caLand mental plasticity have been among the conse-
quences of the assimilation of so many differing factors
in the demotic composition.
In the plastic consciousness of an alert and versatile
population, the investigating, critical, and philosophical
spirit arises. Discovery is pursued for its own sake ; and
Progress 293
geography, history, and science become serious intellectual
interests. Then, as different communities and different
stages of culture are compared, and as the dissatisfaction
with existing conditions is analyzed, the idea of a possible
improvement is conceived. Protestantispi, in the large
sense of the word, begins to be influential, and the now
fully self-conscious community undertakes its own reorgani-
zation and advancement.
Social Selection. — While the critical phase of mental
evolution characterizes all civil societies at a certain stage,
it does so in unequal degrees. Some societies having made
a measure of progress, become stationary ; others remain
merely modifiable; a few continue to be inherently pro-
gressive. These inequalities are explained by selection.
Survival and selection confirm the variability and the grow-
ing power of some societies, the modifiability of others, and
the rigidity of others. They fix the type of each nation-
ality and of each community. Types of society result.
The United States, England, and Germany are inherently
progressive nations. Ireland and the Slavonic provinces
of Austria and of Turkey are modifiable ; Spain and the
French provinces of Canada are arrested or stationary
societies.
A continual sifting goes on. Energetic young men
hasten from meagre opportunities and social stagnation
to improve their condition where resources are more
abundant and the population is more active. By this
means, as well as by the birth rate, the predominance of
youthful alert minds in progressive communities is
increased.
The community, however, reacts upon the individual.
The influence of social selection in favouring those who
294 ^'^'^ Elements of Sociology
conform to a dominant spirit is quite as important as is
that of natural selection in developing those that are
adapted to a physical environment. Selection may ex-
clude, suppress, or modify those who show too much vari-
ability. A man whose appearance or whose mental or
moral qualities are objectionable to his fellows, finds few
economic opportunities ; and, other things being equal,
he has a relatively small chance of leaving offspring. It
makes a great difference, therefore, whether the prevailing
feeling in a community is favourable to enterprise or to a
hopeless conservatism. One community desires change ;
it admires enterprise. Another cares only to keep things
as they are. Even in the local communities of the same
commonwealth, these differences may be seen. Selection
favours the variable type in one ; the unmodifiable type in
another. The discipline of early life creates progressive
habits in one place ; elsewhere it represses every impulse
to change.
Thus social selection operates not only to favour enter-
prising individuals in the progressive community, and to
sort out the enterprising individuals from communities
that are unprogressive ; but it operates also on the double
personality of each individual. Every man is complex,
containing within himself both progressive and conserva-
tive tendencies. If the spirit of the community in which
he lives is progressive, the progressive tendencies in his
nature are stimulated, and the conservative tendencies are
atrophied.
Furthermore, those individuals are developed whose
talents are in demand and, in the same individual, the
group of talents that is of immediate service, is brought to
a relative perfection. One period favours the soldier, an-
Progress 295
other the business man, another the poet, another the
man of science. If a genius is born in a conservative
community, either he seeks a more congenial social envi-
ronment elsew^here, or his genius is crushed before it is
strong enough to assert itself. If he is^born where men
care nothing for the things in which he might excel, he
never realizes the possibilities of his nature.
When, therefore, a mode of feeling becomes dominant,
selection intensifies it. Selection has produced the Ameri-
can spirit, with its desire for change, its love of experi-
ment, and its respect for enterprise. In the United
States, there is a continual weeding out of unenterprising
elements. In like manner, the cities are more enterpris-
ing and more varying than the rural communities ; and
this difference between city and country has been in-
creasing for many years.
Liberal Organization. — The nation that has become prot-
estant and progressive has to face the task of achieving
a social organization that shall maintain unity and stabil-
ity, and yet shall guarantee liberty.
Constitutional Law. — From comparative studies of re-
ligions, laws, and policies, two guiding ideas have sprung.
One is the notion of a jus gentium — a customary law
that, in its essential rules, is the same in all nations.
In its infancy, each nation has regarded itself as a pecul-
iar people. It has cherished its law as a body of unique
and unequalled wisdom. When, therefore, after it has
subjugated alien peoples, and has annexed their lands, and
has discovered that their systems of law differ only in
form and detail from its own, its conception of the nature
of law necessarily undergoes a profound change. It finds
itself obliged to think of law as consisting more of general
296 The Elements of Sociology
than of peculiar principles. It begins to think of certain
principles as universally true, and to identify them with
society. It observes, moreover, that the universal rules
of customary law are independent of the forms of govern-
ment ; and it begins to regard them, therefore, as of
superior authority, and to believe that governments
should themselves be subject to the universally accepted
rules of right.
The other guiding idea is that of the jus naturce ; and
it is so closely related to the notion of a jus gentium as
often to be identified with it. Both historically and philo-
sophically, however, the jtis natures is distinct. The jus
gentium is objective. It is a body of actually sanctioned
rules, actually operative in many different states. The
jus naturcB is subjective and speculative. It is the result
of a philosophical attempt to find the rational grounds of
moral conduct. It is a set of ideal rules that reason ap-
proves of ; or, as Cicero says, it " is the highest reason im-
planted in nature, which commands those things that ought
to be done, and prohibits those that ought not to be."
From this conception of ideal law to an idealized con-
ception of X.\\Q jus gentium y the transition is easy; and the
two conceptions are often confounded, as they are by
Gains, when he says that "whatever natural reason has
decreed amongst men is cherished equally by all nations,
and is called X,\\QJus gentium^ as if all nations employed it" ;
and as they are many centuries later by Jeremy Taylor,
when he writes that " the law of nature is the universal
law of the world, or the law of mankind, concerning com-
mon necessities to which we are inclined by nature, invited
by consent, prompted by reason, but is bound upon us only
by the command of God."
Progress 297
From such ideas the inference follows that the people
rather than their governments are the creators of sub-
stantive law ; and that the people, as rational moral
beings, ought to hold themselves and their governments
to the obedience of that " highest law " which, once more
to quote Cicero, " was born in all the ages before any law
was written or state was formed," which began to be "at
the same moment with the mind of God."
Prolonged reflection upon these conclusions yields fruit
at length in discussion ; and sooner or later public interest
in them is thoroughly aroused. A legal constitution of
society is seen to be possible. The demand 43ecomes in-
sistent that governments shall cease to exercise arbitrary
powers, and that liberty of thought and action within the
limits prescribed by reason shall be guaranteed to every
individual. It is unnecessary to tell here the story of
the rebellions and the revolutions through which the de-
mand has been enforced. If events take their natural \
course, the normal outcome is everywhere the same. \
Charters and guarantees are wrested from kings whose
divine right has ceased to inspire fear. Little by little,
legislation is interwoven with precedent, and the strong
fabric of constitutional law is wrought. The powers of
governments are limited, and their duties are defined.
Freedom of contract also is established as the legal basis
of the minor relations of life.
Voluntary Association. — From this time forth, volun-
tary organization, under the authority and protection of
law, can assume endless varieties of form and function.
The social constitution differentiates and redifferentiates
until it becomes a structure of exceeding complexity,
delicately adapted to the service of an enterprising and
298 The Elements of Sociology
progressive people. It becomes more and more distinct
from the social composition. The church is separated
from the organization of the state, and is made subject
to the political sovereign. There is a rapid development
of a free decentralized industrial organization. The minor
forms of cooperative association are multiplied ; and the
division of labour is perfected.
The Policies of Liberalism. — When a people has con-
sciously entered upon the progressive stage of civic evolu-
tion, it usually attempts to perfect its liberal-legal civiliza-
tion by a conscious policy, as people in the military-religious
civilization endeavour by definite policies to perfect and
maintain that.
The policies by which the liberal-legal civilization is
perfected are naturally quite the opposite of those by
which a military-religious civilization is established. In
many respects rational like-mindedness is different from
the formal like-mindedness whose chief component is
belief, rather than the opinion that is created by free
discussion.
World Intercourse. — First, then, among the policies by
which the liberal-legal civilization is perfected is the en-
couragement of the widest and freest '\^orld in^t£]::^ourse.
The contact with other peoples, customs, manners, and
thought is recognized as the indispensable condition for
catholicity of view and alertness of mind. Progressive
peoples invariably distrust any policy that tends towards
"Si isolation.
Free Thought. — Secondly, progress is assured by en-
( "W couraging the fullest investigation and the freest discus-
sion of every subject. Instead of trying to compel all
men to accept the same beliefs taught by authority, the
Progress 299
progressive nation encourages every man to think for
himself, to develop his own mental powers, to take an
independent position upon every question and interest,
knowing full well that reason is not a chaotic or lawless
power, but is one that invariably brings rpen to agreement
upon the basis of real knowledge and demonstrated truth.
Legality. — Thirdly, the progressive nation tries to
perfect its liberal-legal civilization by a continued study
of law and development of legality, which it is ever
striving to substitute for arbitrary authority, not only in
government, but in all social relations. Only that nation
which succeeds in perfecting the constitutional, that is to
say the legal and rational, methods of government and
procedure, can preserve both individual liberty and public
order.
The History of Progress. — In the historical development
of civilization, many nations that have entered upon the
second stage of civic evolution have been unable to com-
plete it.
Greece was the first of such nations ; Rome was the
second. Athens splendidly developed the critical and
philosophical features of the second stage of civic evolu-
tion ; but she failed in legal construction. Rome exhibited
great practical talent in legal construction ; but she failed
to maintain a healthy spirit of criticism. Liberty and
spontaneity of life were sacrificed to administrative mecha-
nism. In both Greece and Rome the failure was due
to the never-ending necessity of maintaining a highly
efficient mihtary organization — with its inevitable inci-
dents of arbitrary power — in the face of formidable
enemies.
It was not until after the downfall of the Roman Empire,
300 The Elements of Sociology
and the establishment upon its ruins of the modern Euro-
pean nations founded by the Germanic tribes, that it was
possible to perfect a liberal-legal civilization in any part of
the world. The beginnings of modern progress are to be
studied in the magnificent history of the Italian cities,
of Florence, Venice, Sienna, and Bologna. The develop-
ment of liberalism continued through the Renaissance,
the Protestant Reformation, the English Revolution, the
great eighteenth-century awakening of thought in France,
England, and Germany, the American Revolution, the
French Revolution, the Free Trade and Reform Movements
in England, and the German Liberal Movement of 1848.
All of these awakenings and upheavals were but so many
phases of a thorough-going criticism and reconstruction of
social policies and social constitutions on lines of rationality,
legality, liberty, and free association.
It has not happened that in the life of any modern
nation or family of nations, the first and second stages of
civic evolution have been absolutely distinct. There has
been much overlapping. Italy and Germany attained to
national unity only in recent years, long after they had
been profoundly affected by the general liberal movement,
and after other European states had passed through the
stage of constitutional reconstruction. Even in these in-
stances, however, the true sequence is the one that has
been described. United Germany and united Italy had
only entered on their civil life when their political con-
solidation was accomplished. In both countries, the prac-
tical problems of constitutional organization and of liberty
are yet unsolved.
Contributions to Well-being. — Liberal-legal civilization is
thus a product of variation, of unlike-mindedness, of criti-
Progress 301
cism and discussion, and of rational like-mindedness. The
contributions that it has made to human well-being, and
the modifications that it has introduced in the social
system are : first, appreciation of the value of as much
unlike-mindedness as is consistent witlj social stability ;
second, the growing supremacy of reason over impulse
and formality ; third, the appreciation of criticism ; fourth,
the establishment of individual freedom, of legality, of
voluntary organization, and of freedom of contract ; and
fifth, the introduction of flexibility, not inconsistent with
unity and stability, in the social constitution.
PARALLEL STUDY
Study the periods of the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the
French Revolution. Read MilFs " Liberty " or Rousseau's " Social
Contract." Read Dicey's " The Law of the Constitution."
CHAPTER XXIV
Democracy
Wealth and Population. — There is a third stage of civic
evolution upon which nations enter when they have so far
perfected the liberal-legal civilization that they have a
strong constitutional government to maintain social order
and, at the same time, practically unlimited freedom of
individual enterprise and voluntary organization.
When, in such a nation, the most urgent problems of
constitutional government have been solved, men turn
their attention seriously to the task of improving their
material condition, and give themselves earnestly to indus-
/ trial affairs. Then is witnessed a marvellous development
of invention, of mechanical progress and industrial organi-
zation, and an enormously rapid growth of wealth. Con-
sequent upon this economic progress, there is an astonish-
ing growth of population, which brings with it new and
complicated social problems, especially those that grow
out of the relations of employers and employed and the
aspirations of the working classes. The final outcome is a
development of democracy, and coincident with it a
marked development of ethical interest. This third stage
of civic evolution may, therefore, be called an economic-
ethical civilization, or it may, with equal propriety, be called
a democratic civilization.
Prosperity the Offspring of Liberty. — In studying this
302
Democracy 303
mode of civilization, the student should particularly ob-
serve that it is a consequence of the high development
of a free social constitution in the liberal-legal stage of
evolution. More than a hundred years ago, Adam Smith, *^
in his treatise on "The Wealth of Nation^" clearly showed
that the growth of wealth is a consequence of the divi-
sion of labour and of freedom of individual initiative. His
work was written just at the time when the nations of
America, France, and England were working out the
problems of constitutional government and freedom oi
contract. Subsequent events have verified Adam Smith's *
theory more conclusively than any proposition of similar
importance has been verified in the whole history of social
science.
The growth of wealth and of population in western
Europe and in the United States during this century of
political and industrial liberty has been, as a great English
statistician has called it, "a phenomenon absolutely unique
in history." Moreover, the most rapid growth has occurred
in the freest country, the United States, where a popula-
tion of 3,929,214 in 1790 had increased to 62,622,250 in
1890. In 1850 the great nations of the world in order of
population were Russia, France, Austro-Hungary, Ger-
many, the United Kingdom, Italy, the United States. In
1880 the order had become: Russia, the United States,
Germany, Austro-Hungary, France, the United Kingdom,
Italy.
This rapid increase of population has been due, not so
much to any increase in birth rates, as to a great decrease
in death rates in consequence of more abundant food sup-
plies, of sanitary improvements, and of the advance of
medical science.
304 The Elements of Sociology
The relations of the increase of wealth to the increase
of population are those of a slow rhythm ; and this rhythm is
related also to continuing changes in the ideas of the popu-
lation, and particularly in the standard of living.
The Malthicsian Law. — Early in the present century,
Thomas Robert Malthus, in a famous work on '* Popula-
tion," put forth the theory that population tends to in-
crease more rapidly than the means of subsistence.
Actually it cannot increase more rapidly, because when
subsistence fails, population is held in check by famine,
disease, and war. The only means, according to Malthus,
whereby mankind can prevent this calamity is prudence
in marriage. If men made sure that they could win sub-
sistence for themselves and for their families before they
contracted marriage, all would go well, and population
would keep within the means of subsistence. In the
absence of this prudential check, the positive checks of
famine, disease, and war necessarily come into operation.
Later studies of wealth and population have shown that
Malthus's theory is essentially true, but that his formulas
need restatement. Industrial and commercial progress,
especially those forms of progress that we owe to inven-
tion, m^y for a time insure such an abundant production
of the bare necessaries of life that subsistence in this
narrow sense of the word is put far in advance of popula-
tion. No community, however, is satisfied with subsist-
ence of this merely physiological kind. In a progressive
community, the standard of living is continually rising.
The people are continually feeling new desires, and are
putting forth new efforts and submitting to fresh sacrifices
to realize them. In distinction from the standard of
living as thus understood and as defined on page 157, is
Democracy 305
the plane of living of the community. This is the actual
possession and enjoyment of certain necessaries, comforts,
and luxuries. Or, expressed in other words, the plane of
living is the level of subsistence and comfort to which
a population, at any given time, has actually attained.
The plane of living is an objective fact, while the stand-
ard of living is a subjective fact — a fact of thought,
desire, and purpose. Bearing these distinctions in mind,
the student of Sociology, when investigating this problem
of the relation of wealth to population, should fix his
attention, not on the amount of wealth that is necessary
to keep the population alive, but on the amount that is
necessary to raise the general plane of living, generation
after generation. In a progressive community, the plane
of living should continually approach the rising standard.
That is, both the ideal and the actuality of subsistence
and of comfort should rise.
What actually happens is this : From time to time, new
opportunities are discovered, as they were when the great
western domains of the United States were opened to
settlement and cultivation — new means of communication
are perfected, and new inventions, like the steam-engine,
or the electric dynamo, give mankind a greater command
over natural forces. At such times, wealth rapidly out-
runs population. At other times, however, the pace of
industry slackens. The new developments are less numer-
ous and of less importance. Perhaps the machinery of
commerce and industry itself becomes disorganized, and
the production of wealth is checked. At such times,
population continues to increase until there is a real
pressure upon those means of both comfort and subsist-
ence that constitute the actual plane of living. In other
X
//
3o6 The Elemefits of Sociology
words, it becomes difficult to maintain an increasing popu-
lation at the established plane of living, although there
might be no difficulty whatever in obtaining mere food to
sustain animal life in a population much larger.
Two results follow. One is that preponderating influ-
ence of youth to which the French philosopher and
sociologist Comte rightly attached importance as a true
cause of progress. The other is an intense competition
that sharpens the wits of the successful and eliminates
the unsuccessful. Invention has its day again, and in-
dustrial progress begins anew.
Accordingly, in progressive communities the real strug-
gle is not to provide mere subsistence for an increasing
population. It is not to produce wealth with sufficient
rapidity to prevent a lowering of the plane of living as pop-
ulation increases. It is rather to raise the plane of living
towards a higher standard of life for a multiplying popula-
tion, the growth of which is both contemplated and de-
sired.
This cannot be accomplished without a continued activ-
ity of invention, without a continuing improvement of
industrial organization, and in all the arts of production.
' The corrected Malthusian formula, therefore, is as
follows :
In any given state of industry and the arts, population
tcftds to increase faster than it is possible to raise the gen-
eral pla?te of living.
In other words, when industry is stationary, the full
rigour of the Malthusian law is inevitably felt. Only when
industry is continually progressive can there be a general
elevation of the plane of living coincidently with a growth
of population. Consequently, in modern nations, nothing
Democracy 307
is of more fundamental importance than the maintenance
of those free forms of social organization and of those
opportunities for individual initiative, invention, and enter-
prise, which, together, constitute both the factors of prog-
ress and the elements of a flexible social constitution .
Demotic Complexity. — The growth of wealth and of
numbers and the greater tension of life increase the hete-
rogeneity of civil populations. They establish complex
relations between the different race elements and the dif-
ferent strata of population on the one hand, and the division
of labour in the social constitution on the other hand. The
demotic constitution becomes more varied ; the differences
of vitality and ability become greater ; and there appears
a tendency to identify each race element, each degree of
vitaUty, and each grade of ability with a definite place
in the social organization. Different nations possessing
unequal natural advantages and enjoying unequal degrees
of constitutional liberty are unequally prosperous ; and
their citizens, free to seek their political and economic
well-being in any part of the world, migrate more readily
than in any former age. In fact, so sensitive have they
become to every change in industrial conditions that the
increase and decrease of migration is as regular as the
rise and fall of prices. Moreover, the thousands of mi-
grating men seek not only those parts of the world where
their labour is likely to be best rewarded, but they seek
also those places in the industrial organization in which
the greatest returns are offered for the work that they
know how to perform. Here, however, the economic/
causation is greatly complicated by the influence of that/
primary consciousness of kind which turns upon identity!
of race and language.
308 The Elejnents of Sociology
For example, if in the United States each incoming
nationality were distributed by purely economic motives
throughout all occupations and organizations, its influ-
ence as a disturbing factor in social development v^^ould
be slight. It is because each nationality shows a strong
tendency to mass itself geographically, politically, and
industrially that we have a serious immigration problem.
The history of our foreign immigration down to the pres-
ent time shows that each incoming nationality, instead of
distributing itself among the different political parties,
tends to vote almost solidly with some one preferred party.
Instead of distributing itself among all industries, it tends
to mass itself in one or two preferred employments. Ger-
mans have practically displaced other nationalities in the
United States in the crafts of the baker, the butcher, the
cabinet-maker, the cigar maker, the cooper, the leather
currier, the marble and stone cutter, the mason, and the
tailor. In some of the great cities, however, like New
York, the Bohemians have recently been displacing the
Germans in cigar making, while the Russian and Polish
Jews have taken practical possession of the garment
trades.
The advancing specialization of industrial and social
functions multiplies the inequalities of vitality throughout
all distributions of the population. The foreign born who,
by their change of residence, have generally bettered
their condition, have a relatively high birth rate ; but on
account of an imperfect adaptation to new conditions of
life, the death rate of their children is high. Older ele-
ments in the population have a death rate that by con-
trast is low, and a birth rate that also is low.
In the geographical distribution of population, those
Democracy 309
groups that are participating in the highest civilization,
and that are ambitious to raise their plane of living, but
whose resources are not expanding, and whose industrial
methods are not rapidly improving, have a low birth rate
and a low death rate. Such groups compose, for example,
the populations of the valleys of the Loire and the Ga-
ronne in France, and the populations of the New Eng-
land and Middle States in the United States. Such
groups as the populations of Ille-et-Vilaine and Basses-
Pyrenees in France which still lead a relatively simple
life, and such, groups as the population of the northwest-
ern commonwealths of the United States which are yet
exploiting new resources by improving methods, have the
high vitality that is expressed by the coincidence of a
high birth rate with a low death rate.
Differences of ability, even more than differences of
vitality, are increased by demogenic evolution. From the
three personality classes are developed three psychical
ranks.
The first rank, which is identical with the first person-
ality class, — described in Chapter X, — consists of those
individuals that have more than average intellectual ability.
The second rank, which coincides with the ablest half of
the second personality class, includes all normally endowed
individuals that have enough ability to conduct business
undertakings on a moderate scale, and thereby to maintain
their economic independence. The third rank includes the
less competent half of the second and the entire third
personality class.
These differences of ability closely correspond to dif-
ferences of social function. Roughly, they correspond
also to differences of economic condition. The directive
3IO The Elements of Sociology
work of society in politics, business, the professions,
science, and art is done by the first psychical rank,
which, therefore, because directive work is better paid
than any other, includes most of the very wealthy mem-
bers of the community. It includes, however, also some
of the poor, and many of those who are in merely comfort-
able circumstances. The middle rank, which is mentally
and morally independent, and is critical rather than origi-
native and directive, accepts the advice and leadership of
the first rank, but in its own way, applying or modifying
with self-confident judgment. This rank enjoys the re-
wards of thrift. In the aggregate, it owns a great part
of the property of the commonwealth. The third rank
does the closely directed work of the community; and
without some supervision it would be almost helpless.
Naturally the third rank is poor.
The demographic relations thus far described are yet
further combined.
The vitality classes and the psychical ranks are not
independent of one another. The second psychical rank
coincides with the first vitality class. The first psychical
rank coincides with the second vitality class. The first
psychical rank, however, is in great part descended from
the first vitality class. The third vitality class is in part
descended from the first psychical rank.
These complications are combined also with the dis-
tribution of population between city and country. That
part of the population which constitutes the first vitality
class and second psychical rank is composed largely of
the rural population. The remaining psychical ranks
consist largely of the city population.
These groupings, however, are not fixed or arbitrary.
Democracy 311
There are many exceptions, and individuals from any
vitality class may find their way into any psychical rank ;
while individuals of any vitality class or any psychical
rank may be found in either city or country.
Origin and Nature of Democracy. — Gr^idations and dis-
tributions of population that result in the evolution of a
demotic system result also in a democratic development
of the social mind.
The population rank that earns wages by manual labour
confronts the rank that directs activity and accumulates
wealth. The wage-earners are well acquainted with one
important fact of history. They know that the commer-
cial class once demanded and obtained a share in the
political power that had been monopolized by the well-
born. They have seen how governments have been used
to shape economic conditions and to control the distribu-
tion of wealth ; and they reason that the labourer must
share in the law-making power before he can hope to
share largely in the results of economic progress. They
observe that the suffrage has been associated with prop-
erty-owning and with the payment of direct taxes ; and
accordingly they demand an unrestricted manhood suf-
frage. The demand is effective because it is backed
by the promise of votes to the party that will grant the
franchise, just as the demand of the merchants in the
thirteenth century was effective because it was backed
by the offer of revenue to the king. Now one party and
now another enlarges the electorate by extending the
franchise to a particular section of the working class,
as the English Tories, for example, extended it to the
town artisans, and the English Liberals to the agricult-
ural labourers, and as both of the great American parties
312 The Elements of Sociology
have extended it — the one to immigrant labourers and
the other to emancipated slaves.
Democracy thus established in the electorate is soon
followed by a demand that governments shall be developed
into gigantic agencies for the improvement of the working
masses. The state is called upon to assume educational
and sanitary responsibilities. At the same time, an in-
creasingly insistent demand is heard for systems of taxa-
tion that will throw the cost of public undertakings upon
the well-to-do.
These ideas and purposes are not confined to the wage-
earning classes. Both the ideas and the purposes appeal
to many of the wealthy and the learned, who believe that
essential justice can be realized only in a social democ-
racy. Adopted and defended by men of culture, demo-
cratic ideas gradually transform public opinion and shape
the popular ideals.
From the moment that the conception of democracy
takes possession of the social mind, the entire further
course of social evolution is bound up with the develop-
ment of democracy, and with its success as a system of
social organization and of government.
False Notions of Democracy. — One of the first obstacles
that the democratic system has to overcome is a false
notion of its true nature, which long lingers in the minds
of those members of the community who have belonged
hitherto to privileged classes. In this false conception,
democracy is identified with the absolute rule of the poor
and ignorant portion of the population, or, at the best,
with the rule of that part of the population which is de-
pendent upon opportunities for wage-earning employment.
The government of society was for ages in the hands of
Democracy 313
a privileged class ; and the wage-earning classes were
excluded from any participation in legislation or admin-
istration. Therefore, democracy is often conceived as a
system in which government will be in the hands of the
so-called masses, by whom the aristocrajtic portion of the
community will, in its turn, be excluded from participa-
tion in public affairs.
It is indeed possible that such a turning of the tables
might take place. But the resulting system would not be
democracy : it would be the riile of a class just as aristoc-
racy was the rule of a class: I Democracy is the participa-
tion of the entire people in government, and the employ-
ment of the powers of government for the benefit of the
entire people. A true democracy is that system which
Abraham Lincoln described as a ** government of the
people, by the people, and for the people."
Inasmuch, however, as democratic government is a deci-
sion of public questions by a majority of votes, it may of
course practically happen that the theoretical idea of
democracy is not realized, and that actual rule in the state
is exercised by an igno r ant part of the population, having
l ittle capacity for self-government or for governing the
commonwealth . The historian Lecky, in a work on
"Democracy and Liberty," has argued that in practice
democracy is necessarily the rule of ignorance, and that,
in the long run, it will be subversive of liberty. This he
endeavours to prove by showing that in every modern
country the ignorant and poor are a majority, and that
therefore if every man has one vote, and every vote has
the same value, government is necessarily the rule of igno-
rance ; and by showing that in practice during the present
century democracy has diminished the stability of govern-
//
314 The Elements of Sociology
ments, has enormously increased taxes and public debts,
has confiscated property for alleged public benefits, has
restricted liberty in the alleged interests of the working
classes, and has tended to give the balance of power in
society to the emotional rather than to the rational ele-
ments of the population.
That democracy has not only made many blunders, but
has been guilty of many indefensible policies, its strongest
advocates will not deny. To argue, however, that it must
necessarily and permanently be the rule of ignorance, and
that it must therefore necessarily result in the disintegra-
tion of society, is to betray a very inadequate knowledge of
the subject.
Analysis of Democracy. — Democracy is more than a
form of government ; and those who see in it nothing
else have hardly made a beginning towards understanding
it. Scientifically, democracy is a form of government, or
a form of the state, or a form of society, or a combination
of all three.
As a form of government, democracy is the actual ad-
ministration of political affairs through universal suffrage.
Completely carried out, democracy as a form of govern-
ment would be the actual decision of every question of
legal and executive detail, no less than of every question
of right and policy, by a direct popular vote. Something
closely approaching this has been accomplished in the
New England town meeting and in some of the cantonal
governments of Switzerland. There has never been any
such thing, however, as a strictly democratic form of gov-
ernment on a large scale.
Democracy as a form of the state is popular sovereignty.
It is a popular distribution of formal political power. It is
Democracy 315
the right of the masses of the people to participate in the
creation of the government or machinery of administration.
It may act through representative institutions as well as
directly.
Democracy as a form of society is, in the first place, a *2, )
democratic organization and control of the non-political
forms of association. In a perfectly democratic society,!
not only must the state be democratic, but the church, the\
industrial organization, and the educational organization
likewise must be democratic. Democracy as a form of
society is, in the second place, a distribution among the
entire people of that indefinite, unformed, but actual politi-
cal power which lies back of the formal power that regis-
ters its decisions through the act of voting. In the chapter
on Constituent Societies, a distinction was made between
the makers'^of legal authority and the makers of moral
authority. (The state is democratic when all its people,
without distinction of birth, class, or rank, participate in
the making of legal authority. Society is democratic only
when all people without distinction of rank or class partici-
pate in the making of public opinion and of moral au-
thority.
Character of Democracy. — When these distinctions are
perceived, it is easily understood that the state may be
democratic while society is yet aristocratic or oligarchic.
Universal suffrage may give to every adult male member
of the community the right to vote ; and yet, in all except
political relations, a majority of the voters may be living
under a system of social organization that is essentially
aristocratic or even monarchical. In their industrial re-
lations, and in their schools and churches, voters may have
practically no voice whatever in determining organization
3l6 The Elements of Sociology
or policy. Moreover, although voting in the political
organization, they may be contributing nothing whatever
to public opinion or moral authority, because their intel-
lectual development is too slight to enable them to take an
independent attitude on any question, or to add anything
to the sum total of new thought.
While, therefore, it is conceivable that ignorant masses,
when given the right to vote, may actually attempt in
their voting to give expression to their own ignorant
notions, there is evidently no necessity for thinking
that a general election registers a really popular judg-
ment. It is quite as likely that tradition, custom, imita-
tion, industrial conditions, indefinite modes of economic
and social pressure, may conspire to make a popular
election nothing more than an endorsement of the policy
of a few individuals.
Therefore, whether democracy is the rule of ignorance
or not, is a question that depends upon the sort of leader-
ship to which the majority of all voters in any common-
wealth yield their allegiance. For unless society is no less
democratic than the state, — a condition of things that
can exist only when all socii are educated, thoughtful
men, — the majority do not independently rule at all, but
merely endorse the policy of their leaders. When democ-
racy is the rule of ignorance in fact, as sometimes it cer-
tainly is, the masses do not rule through their ignorance,
but through their deference to great humbugs or great
scoundrels, who know how to manipulate their followers for
the success of personal schemes. When, on the contrary,
the masses are led by patriotic and wise statesmen, as
happens in serious crises when the better instincts of
human nature are appealed to, the rule of the majority
Democracy 317
becomes the rule of the intelligence and morality of the
community.
The Success or Failure of the democratic experiment in
the third stage of civic evolution therefore turns upon this
relation of the many who imitate, accept guidance, and
yield allegiance, to the comparatively few who invent, who
think independently, who have the gift of leadership, and
the ability to organize their fellow-men. This relationship,^
which has always existed in human society, must, unless
humanity in the future becomes totally unlike the humanity
of the past and of to-day, continue to be one of the funda-
mental facts of the social system. In other words, we shall
never get rid of that natural aristocracy which is made up
of the talented, the wise, the unselfish and generous, who
have the ability and the wish to plan, to organize, and to
lead. If we are wise we shall never wish to get rid of it.
The only aristocracy that the people should wish to destroy
is that which is constituted by artificial distinctions, by
inherited titles, and inherited privileges. No conynunity>
can make a more fatal mistake than that of confounding ^
natural with artificial superiority. Democracy is fatal to
the latter. Without the former, democracy itself cannot
hope long to exist.
In short, the success of democracy depends upon the j
existence in society of that preeminent social class which
was described in Chapter XI, and upon its domination or
successful leadership.
Perils of Democracy. — There are, however, grave obsta-
cles to the continuous domination of the wisest elements
of the social class. Some of these we have now to exam-
ine in a further description of the third stage of civic
evolution, and a further analysis of the task of democracy.
3l8 The Elements of Sociology
Costs of Progress. — Material progress is not an unmixed
good. Progress costs not only effort, but also suffering.
Every discovery and every invention destroys some busi-
ness and throws wage-earners out of employment. Every
development of social organization breaks up long-estab-
lished relations. For the most part, these costs of prog-
ress are borne by individuals who receive few of the
benefits purchased by their sufferings, while the benefi-
ciaries of change themselves rarely suffer the distress that
is caused by the destruction of the old order. Some of
those who are displaced by social or industrial progress,
quickly find their way into new positions. Others have no
power of adaptation : they sink to a lower plane of living
and never recover from their misfortunes.
Degeneration. — The cost of progress takes also the
form of a moral and physiological degeneration, which is
caused by excessive activity and the overstimulation of
ambition. The greater the rate of progress, the heavier
does this cost become ; the faster the march, the larger is
the number of the exhausted who fall by the way. Prog-
ress, like any other form of motion in the universe, starts
reactions against itself.
In the population, degeneration manifests itself in the
various forms of suicide, insanity, crime, and vice, which
most abound in the highest civilization, where the tension
of life is extreme, and in those places from which civili-
zation has ebbed and from which population has been
drained, leaving a discouraged remnant to struggle against
deteriorating conditions.
Social Disintegration. — Degeneracy in the population
is inevitably followed by degeneration in both the social
composition and the social constitution.
Democracy 319
In the social composition, the effect is felt chiefly in
the family. There is a lowering of the moral tone of the
community in regard to the obligations of family life, and
a tendency to view marriage as a convenience or a pleas-
ure, which can at pleasure be dissolved. Legal obstacles
to its dissolution are not tolerated by a community of irri-
table, sentimental, and egoistic men and women who have
found life disappointing; and the result is a continuing
increase in the number of divorces.
Degeneration in the social constitution manifests itself
chiefly in a disintegration of cities. In the city are all the
startling contrasts of civilization. The enormous disparity
of wealth, in which a highly organized industry has re-
sulted, is here revealed to every eye. Knowledge and
culture that are the perfect fruit of all human progress
until now are brought face to face with brutish ignorance.
Into this dangerous combination of conditions enters the
demoralizing factor of personal degeneration. Many of
the rich, although happily not a majority, forget their
obligations to their fellow-men, and surrender themselves
to the pursuit of personal enjoyments and ambitions.
Many of the poor, although happily not a majority, give
ear to anarchism or seek comfort in the socialistic dream.
They withdraw themselves as far as possible from contact
with the rich, and cherish the hope of organizing the
working classes or "proletariat" into an irresistible force,
and of taking possession of all the organs of government.
This latter form of social disintegration, if it proceeds far,
is the most serious of all dangers, since it attempts to
establish that illegitimate democracy, which consists in
the absolute rule of the least competent part of the popu-
lation, to the exclusion of all remaining portions of the
320 The Elements of Sociology
people. This has twice happened in modern history for
short intervals of time : once in the closing days of the
French Revolution ; and once in the reign of the Com-
mune of Paris in 187 1.
Emotionalism. — Even if all these dangers are held in
check, there remains another that must continually be
guarded against in a democratic society. It is the danger
of a subordination of rational public action to emotional
impulses. We have seen that in every population men
are more alike in emotion and in impulse than in intellect.
Consequently, it is only when the greatest respect for in-
tellectual activity and for self-control is maintained, and
when an efficient social organization largely destroys fear,
that the danger of impulsive social action in a democracy
is prevented from becoming threatening.
The Safe-guarding of Democracy. — Let us not suppose,
however, that these dangers, inherent in the third stage
of civic evolution and characteristic of democracy, are so
serious as to destroy our faith in the permanence of civili-
zation or of popular government. Intelligent and brave
men are not dismayed by danger. The good citizen sees
in the perils that threaten society only an occasion for
more active effort, more earnest thought, and more unself-
ish devotion to duty. The third stage of civic evolution
brings with it, as a characteristic product, an influence
that counteracts the dangers which have been described,
and offers to the community an assurance of continued
stability and progress. That influence is a growing ethi-
cal spirit, and the formation of the highest mode of like-
mindedness, namely, the ethical.
The Ethical Spirit. — The limitations and reactions of
progress arrest public attention. Sympathy for the un-
Democracy 321
fortunate is quickened by the spectacle of misery in the
midst of splendour ; and the conscience of society begins
to demand that systematic efforts shall be made to miti-
gate suffering and thus to minimize the dangers that
threaten the community. Private philar\thropy vies with
legislation in attempts to diminish poverty and crime, and
ultimately in attempts to improve the general life condi-
tions of the masses. Much of this endeavour is senti-
mental ; and not a little of it is mischievous. Gradually,
however, intelligence is enlisted. In a measure, philan-
thropic passion is brought under the direction of reason
and made more efficient for good. The social mind under-
goes a profound moral experience. It begins to develop
an ethical character. It is this awakening of the moral
reason which prevents any serious undoing of the work of
social evolution. It is the rational-ethical consciousness
that maintains social cohesion in a progressive democracy.
The Stability of Democracy thus depends, first, upon the
acceptance by the many of guidance from those whose
superiority is real because consisting in intellectual abili-
ties and in moral character, not in artificial social distinc-
tions or in pretentious claims ; secondly, upon an unselfish
activity on the part of the superior few. They must not
only have the ability to plan and guide ; but they must
also put forth that ability, if need be at the sacrifice of
their personal comfort and ambition. As the patriot is
willing to lay down his life in defence of his country, the
good citizen must be willing to sacrifice convenience and
business advantage in the effort to maintain an honest
and efficient system of social order. He must freely
give time and strength to the promotion of education,
to the reform of social and industrial abuses, and to the
322 The Elements of Sociology
betterment of the conditions under which the great
majority of his fellow-men are compelled to live. In
fact, this unselfish activity of individuals who by nature
are qualified to plan and to guide, is the controlling ele-
ment in the entire social order of an economic-ethical
civilization. It is the fact upon which the fate of democ-
racy ultimately turns, because, if the natural aristocracy
among men is in fact unselfish, it will not fail to hold the
allegiance and secure the faithful following of the many.
^The instincts of the mass of mankind are now, as they
always have been, thoroughly sound. In all ages, the
true patriot has received the unstinted homage of his
fellow-men ; and they have been wilting to follow him,
to make sacrifices with him, even to lay down their lives
with him, just in the measure that they have believed in
his sincerity. In this way men always will act as they
always have acted. If those who are qualified to lead
by their conduct show that they are actuated not by
personal ambition but by love of country and of mankind,
there will be no failure of the experiment of democracy.
The Duties of Leadership. — This, however, is assum-
ing that true leaders of the people bring their intelligence
as well as their sincerity of motive to bear upon the duties
that they owe to society. The normal function of leader-
ship may well be conceived, as it has been by Mr. Mallock,
in terms of that relation which, in the business world, is
called supply and demand.
In relation to "demand," men are far more alike and
far more nearly equal than in relation to ** supply." For
example, all men need clothing and houses ; they are
alike and equal in this respect. It is only a small pro-
portion of all men, however, that have the skill to design
Democracy 323
and to manufacture clothing; that have the skill to design
and to build houses. So it is with respect to other things.
The preliminary work of supplying satisfactions for human
needs consists of invention, planning, and organizing. In
all its higher developments, it is a kind of work that
can be accomplished only by men of great and special
talent. Of all the millions of men that have lived in the
world, less than a hundred have made important discover-
ies in the adaptation of steam and electric power to the
industrial arts, although many thousands have contributed
lesser inventions in matters of detail. Less than a hundred
thousand have contributed any strictly new thought or
invention to the vast system of railroad, steamship, and
telegraphic communication by which all parts of the world
are now bound together in commercial and intellectual
intercourse. Less than a single million have contributed
any important thought or deed to the perfection of the sys-
tem of constitutional government and law, whereby social
order and individual liberty are combined and reconciled
in a successfully working system. All mankind, then, par-
ticipates in needs which call for satisfaction. All mankind
participates in the work or labour of creating the supply of
those things that serve as means of satisfaction ; but only
a small part of mankind participates in that most difficult
and fundamental work of all — the thinking of how to
supply, the invention of means, and the organization of the
various forms of cooperation by which the invented means
are brought to bear upon the practical problem.
Thus the function of those who have the ability to plan
and to guide in a democratically organized society, is that
of devising means to supply the necessities, to meet the
aspirations, to fulfil the reasonable hopes of mankind.
324 The Elements of Sociology
The masses are dependent upon the guidance and leader-
ship of the few ; but the few can guide and lead only if
they minister to the actual wants and the legitimate
desires of the many. The relation is precisely that which
was so clearly expressed generations ago in the words,
"And whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your
servant."
The Real Demands of Democracyc — What, then, are the
real and legitimate demands of the many ? What are the
satisfactions that must continually be thought about, de-
vised, and secured by the intelligence and unselfish activity
of the few ?
They are demands for the satisfaction of certain funda-
mental needs, in respect of which all men are born equal.
In recent years there has been among the educated a
tendency to scoff at this famous phrase from eighteenth-
century thought and the American Declaration of Inde-
pendence. In many respects men are so obviously unequal
— in physical strength, in intelligence, in moral qualities —
that when all allowances and modifications have been
made, it has seemed that very little meaning has remained
in the assertion that men are born equal.
If, however, we look a little more deeply into the matter,
we discover that, after all, there is still in these words a
meaning which it behooves us to understand and to respect.
Wherein All Men are Equal. — All men are born sub-
stantially equal, and throughout life remain substantially
equal in respect of all the following needs :
I. The need of such material necessaries of existence as
food, clothing, and shelter. The amount needed and even
the quality needed differ with different individuals ; but
the poorest and the weakest, equally with the richest and
Democracy 325
the strongest, experience the fundamental need for all
these things.
2. The need of satisfaction of the family instinct ; the
need of affection, of the love of husband and wife, of parent
and child. There are, of course, individuals who seem
devoid of this need ; but in most cases the appearance is
not the reality, and where it is, it is pathological.
3. The need of opportunity for expansion and develop-
ment of life. The desire to satisfy not merely one appe-
tite of the body or craving of the mind, but by activity to
satisfy every organ, and by free play every faculty, is the
fundamental ethical motive — the source of all that we call
conscience, of all aspiration for enlargement and growth.
This need is common to all mankind.
4. The need of human sympathy and companionship,
especially in suffering. After having shown so fully that
the love of companionship is the fundamental passion of
society, we need not stop here to prove that it is a funda-
mental human need. Perhaps nothing that Abraham
Lincoln ever said so clearly revealed the trait that en-
deared him to the American people, and at the same time
so perfectly demonstrated his wonderful insight into the
nature of popular government, as his remark, in defence of
the doctrine that all men are born equal, that whatever
disparity of fortune or of ability may exist among human
beings, all are substantially equal in their capacity for
suffering, and in the certainty that during the years of
their earthly life they will be obliged to encounter and
endure it. In this equality of capacity for suffering,
Lincoln saw one of the strongest bonds that unite a
democratic people.
5. The need of emancipation from fear. Primitive men
326 The Elements of Sociology
have found alleviation in their crude religious beliefs and
in their rude forms of social organization. Civilized men
have found it in more elaborate and efficient forms of social
organization, in nobler forms of religion, in philosophy,
and in science. Indeed, so effective in our own day have
been these means of relief that many of us now fail to
realize how terribly fear has oppressed mankind in the
past, and how absolutely equal men are in their deep need
of emancipation from its bondage.
In all these needs, men are substantially equal. Through-
out time, men will insist that wants like these shall be
appeased ; and they will not tolerate any form of social
organization or of government that fails to meet this
fundamental demand.
As a matter of historical fact, the popular insistence
upon this truth is, and has ever been, the very essence of
the democratic movement ; for, in truth, democracy has
been far more an insistence that government shall be for
the people who are governed, than that it shall be by the
people. Insistence that it shall be by the people has been
in order that it might more certainly be for the people.
Accordingly, the social system that is thought about,
perfected, maintained, and administered by those who
have the ability to plan and to lead, must be one that
meets these fundamental demands of democracy. Any
system of laws that endangers material subsistence, that
diminishes comfort, that makes the struggle for life an
increasingly hard one for the masses, that attacks the
essential features of family life, that seems to curtail the
opportunity for mental and moral expansion, that weakens
the bonds of sympathy, or that attacks the social organiza-
tion and the knowledge that emancipate men from the
Democracy 327
curse of fear, will be resisted by the masses of the people,
and ultimately will be overthrown.
Equality, Fraternity, and Liberty. — Besides seeing to it
that social policy shall assure the satisfaction of these
fundamental needs of mankind, the leaders of thought
and activity must give careful attention also to those re-
lations between liberty and fraternity, between fraternity
and equality, that were explained in the chapter on the
Efficiency of Social Organization. As was there shown,
liberty in any sense, including that which democracy im-
plies, is possible only if there is in the population a good
degree of mental and moral homogeneity and of sympathy
— a fact which is popularly expressed by the word
*' fraternity." There must be brotherhood in a large and
generous sense, if free institutions are to prevail. But, as
we also know, there can be such brotherhood only if a
certain approach towards equality of condition is secured.
In the historical evolution of human society, nothing has
proved to be more fatal to the spirit of brotherhood and
to the maintenance of liberty than an unchecked growth
of inequality in material conditions, possessions, and
power.
Necessary Modes of Equality. — Some of the modes of
equality upon which fraternity and liberty depend, and
which therefore must be sedulously maintained in a
democratic community are the following :
1. Political equality ; universal and equal suffrage.
2. Equality before the law ; neither wealth, nor privi-
lege, nor vice, nor ignorance, to control legislation or to
receive consideration in the courts.
3. Equality of opportunity to serve the public accord-
ing to the measure of ability ; men of equal ability to
328 The Elements of Sociology
have absolutely equal chances of appointment to office
under impartial civil service rules, irrespective of party
service or allegiance.
4. Equality of rights in public places and in public
conveyances.
5. Equality of sanitary conditions ; all streets to be
equally cleaned and cared for, tenement houses to be
made decent and wholesome.
6. Equality of opportunity to enjoy certain means of
recreation and culture ; in public parks, libraries, mu-
seums, and galleries of art.
7. Equality of elementary educational opportunities
through a well-administered public school system.
8. Equality of fair play ; especially in all bargaining,
between employer and employ^, and in the relations of
workingmen to one another.
9. Equality of courtesy ; rich and poor to be treated
with equal politeness.
10. Equality of good will to all men.
Other modes of equality that, in addition to the above,
are essential to fraternity, are those which assure the
supremacy of rational over impulsive social action. They
are, namely :
1. Equality of regard for certain fundamental social
values, especially {a) respect for law, {b) respect for
expert knowledge.
2. Equality of sobriety and calmness of judgment, and
of common sense.
These modes of equality can be approximately estab-
lished by the perfection of an efficient system of public
school education, but not by any other means.
Finally, there must be maintained also that mode of
Democracy 329
equality on which progress depends ; namely, equality of
opportunity for potential inventiveness, greatness, and
leadership to become actual.
Democracy is Ethical Like-Mindedness. — Appreciation of
these truths by the community and a practical application
of them involve both intellectual agreement and a unity
of purpose which, while containing elements of sympathy,
contain also the judgments born of rational criticism of the
social problem. Such unity is a mode of like-mindedness
in which reason and conscience predominate. "
Democracy, then, in terms of sociological theory, is the
outworking or expression of ethical like-mindedness.
Contributions to Well-being. — We have now in con-
cluding this chapter only to mention the contributions
made to social organization and human welfare by the
third stage of civic evolution. These are, namely :
material wealth, the growth of population, the genesis and
development of the ethical spirit, and the elaboration of
democracy in that large and legitimate sense of the word
which has here been explained.
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Spencer's "Principles of Sociology," Volume II, Part V,
Chapter XVIII, and Volume III, Part VIII; Spyer's '-The Labour
Question " ; Stimson's " Hand Book to the Labour Law of the United
States"; Wells's "Recent Economic Changes"; Brownell's "French
Traits," Chapter I ; Lecky's " Democracy and Liberty," Chapters I and
III; Rose's "The Rise of Democracy"; Matthew Arnold's essay on
"Equality"; and James Russell Lowell's essay on "Democracy."
^CHAPTER XXV
The Theory of Society
n
Physical and Psychical Processes. — The scientific de-
scription of any subject is incomplete until relations are
perceived between laws that have been discovered in the
group of facts studied, and wider laws that prevail through-
fout the universe.
For example, the subject Biology is not completely ex-
plained until the laws of growth and reproduction, of
waste and repair, which characterize the group of facts
called Biology, are studied in relation to the wider laws of
chemical action, of heat, light, electricity, and other mani-
festations of physical energy.
In other words, the complete explanation of any subject
must include an attempt to show that laws inductively dis-
covered are deductively inferable from wider principles of
cosmic phenomena. '
In the study of society, we have all along been obliged
to look at the facts under consideration from two points
of view. The facts have displayed themselves to our
mental vision, sometimes in the guise of physical, and
sometimes in the guise of mental, phenomena. This has
inevitably happened because the individual man is a bun-
dle of physical and mental facts, combined in ways that
we can partly, but not wholly, understand. His bodily
form and activities are as strictly physical facts as are the
forms and activities of inorganic things ; while his thoughts,
330
The Theory of Society 331
emotions, and choices are facts of an entirely different
order. Nevertheless, as we have from time to time ob-
served, it is possible to study some of the relations be-
tween thoughts, emotions, and choices on the one hand,
and physical energy on the other hand, because, through
the mechanism of the nervous system, mental processes
are connected in perfectly definite ways with physical
facts.
Therefore, no study of the individual man would be A
complete which did not include a double interpretation '
of his activity, one in terms of laws of physical energy,
the other in terms of laws of mental processes. In Hke
manner, no account of society is complete which does not
include a similar double interpretation.
This does not mean that the sociologist, or the anthro-
pologist, or the psychologist, is committed to a dualistic
philosophy of the universe. He may be convinced that,
in the last analysis which philosophy is competent to
make, all mental facts can be explained in terms of phys-
ics — and he therefore may be a monistic materialist ;
or he may be convinced that all physical facts must ulti-
mately be explained in terms of thought — and he m^
therefore be an idealist. It is not, however, any part of
the business of science to deal with these ultimate prob-
lems of philosophy. Science stops short at the point
where the possibility of verification ends and knowledge
passes into speculation. Verification is a confirmation by
the senses of conclusions reached by reasoning. \^e%
for example, the astronomer, through the reasoning pro-
cesses of mathematical thought, concludes that an eclipse
of the sun will occur in a certain latitude and longitude
on a particular day, and that it will begin at a second
332 The Elements of Sociology
which also he predicts, his conclusion is verified if the
eclipse is actually seen at that place and time.
Science is unable to carry the processes of verification
into the final problems of philosophy. It cannot, by any
independent process of checking or confirming, prove the
reasoned-out conclusion of the philosopher that the world
is monistic. So far as verification goes, the facts of life
will always appear in the two categories, physical and
mental; and whatever the philosopher may believe, the
scientific man can never prove that the two categories are
reducible to one. Philosophy may be monistic ; science,
in its account of man, will forever be dualistic.
The scientific account then, of any subject in which
man is a factor, must always include two parallel interpre-
tations : one physical, the other psychological.
Physical Causation and Laws. — Accordingly, let us now
look for a moment at the ultimate explanation of facts of
human society in so far as they are physical. All move-
ments of population, such as birth rates, migrations, and
groupings are, of course, physical facts ; and all the labour
performed in society is also, of course, a group of physical
facts. What, then, is- tl^e filial explanation, within the
limits of verifiable science, of the physical phenomena of
human society }
To answer this question, we must call to mind the ele-
mentary physical truth that matter and energy arc inde-
structible, and remember certain important consequences
of it ; namely, that because matter and energy are inde-
structible, there is, throughout the universe, a tendency
towards the establishment of a balance or equilibrium of
forces ; that all motion is in the line of least resistance ;
and that all motion is rhythmical in form.
The Theory of Society 333
Every mass of matter contains more or less energy.
Heat, light, and electricity no less than gravitation and the
motion of a body through space are modes of energy.
When, therefore, there is any degree of heat, of electricity,
or of magnetism, or any possibility of chemical change in
a mass of matter, that matter is energetic — it contains
energy.
All energy is a mode of motion. Heat, for example, is /
the motion of the minute particles or molecules of matter.
Molecular motion can be converted into motion of the
mass; as, for example, when the heat contained in steam
is converted into the motion of the locomotive. Motion of
the mass, in turn, can be converted into molecular motion ;
as, for example, when the application of brakes to the
wheels of a moving train makes both wheels and brakes
hot.
Practically, it never happens that the energy contained
in any given mass of matter is equal in amount or similar
in form to that contained in surrounding objects. Con-
sequently, there is a continual interchange of energy be-
tween object and object, and between groups of objects
and other groups. The tendency is towards a condition
of things in which the energies of adjacent bodies are
equal and in balance.
In this change of energy from body to body and from
mode to mode, motion follows the line of least resistance.
The Source of Social Energy. — M any _ activities of a
social population find their explanation in termsofTEese^
physi cal principles. The" energy of a population is never
more than momentarily equal to the active and latent
energies of the world about it. Consequently, there is a '
continual interchange of matter and energy between a
334 '^^^^ Elements of Sociology
population and its environment. The inorganic forces of
the land and climate are converted into organic and social
energies ; social energies again are reconverted into physi-
\ enforces.
All the energy expended in the growth and activity of
a population is thus derived from the physical world ; and
the activity that any population is capable of manifesting,
the degree of advancement in material and moral well-
being that it is capable of attaining, in the last resort
depends upon the interaction of inherited muscular and
nervous energies of the race with the physical resources
of the region that it occupies.
Density of population depends on the quantity of food
that can be produced either directly by agriculture, or in-
directly through the exchange of manufactured products,
themselves produced from the raw materials of the en-
vironment. Other things being equal, the activity and
progress of society in large measure depend upon the
- density of the population. A sparse population, scattered
over a poor soil, can carry on production only by primitive
methods and on a small scale. It can have only the most
rudimentary division of labour. It cannot have manufact-
uring industries or good roads, or a highly developed
intelligence.
A highly developed political life, too, is found only
where population is compact. Civil liberty, as we have
seen, means discussion ; and discussion is dependent on
the frequent meeting of considerable bodies of men who
have varied interests and who look at life from different
points of view. Education, religion, art, science, and lit-
erature, also, are all dependent upon a certain density of
population. f**
The Theory of Society 335
Population being given, and other things remaining the
same, social activity varies with the harvests. Certain
social phenomena follow good and bad times with aston-
ishing regularity. Among these are the marriage rate,
the birth rate, and the death rate. 'J'he harvests them- .
selves depend on the amount of physical energy utilized
by society in agricultural operations.
Once more, population and harvests remaining the
same, social activity depends upon the amount of physi-
cal energy utilized otherwise than in producing food. No
one can measure, or even estimate, how enormously polit-
ical, religious, and educational activities have been multi-
plied by steam and electricity.
The Line of Least Resistance. — Like all other modes
of motion in the universe, social activity follows the line of
least resistance. Population is relatively dense in warm
climates. Colonization follows coast lines and river val-
leys. Expanding states respect the territory of strong
rivals, and encroach upon the domain of the weak.
Aggregations of men are formed where the economic
opportunities are greatest ; and there they remain until
diminishing returns drive them 'on to yet newer openings.
The concentration of population in cities is but another
exemplification of the same law; for the cities, on the
whole, afford the best opportunities for employment.
It is the line of least resistance that determines also
occupations, the course of exchanges, the lines of com-
munication, the movements of labour and capital, legislative
and administrative policy, and the direction of religious,
scientific, and educational movements.
RhytJim. — Li social as in other activities action and ■
reaction are necessarily equal ; and all motion, therefore, '
33^ The Elements of Sociology
is necessarily rhythmical. Harvests and food supplies
are alternately abundant and meagre. Exchanges in fairs
and markets are periodic. The balance of international
trade is ever changing. Industrial depressions alternate
with periods of industrial prosperity. The tide of immi-
gration rises and falls. War and peace, conservatism and
liberalism, alternate. Religion, morals, philosophy, sci-
ence, literature, art, and fashion are all subject to the|
law of rhythm.
Evolution. — In further explanation of the physical as-
pects of society, it is necessary to explain the meaning of
the word "evolution " in its physical sense.
Whenever the internal or molecular motion of any mass
of matter is diminished through communication to sur-
rounding space or to other bodies, as, for instance, when
a heated mass of iron is left to cool, the particles of the
body draw more closely together. Whenever molecular
motion is absorbed from surrounding space, as when the
iron is heated again, the particles separate more widely.
In the one case, the mass contracts, and in the other it
expands.
From time to time in this book we have used the word
J "integration." In the physical sense, all integration is a
drawing together of masses or particles of matter into a
more compact whole. All drawing together of masses or
particles of matter is integration. Furthermore, integra-
tion never takes place except through a loss of contained
motion ; and contained motion never is lost without caus-
ing integration.
t Now this process of integration is the first step in what
is called "evolution." Whenever an object or mass of
matter is so situated that it parts with some of its energy,
The Theory of Society 337
as happens, for example, when a hot substance is placed in
contact with a cold one, and loses heat, integration and
the process of evolution begin.
Social ^integration. — In the redistributions of matter
and motion between society and its eavironment, either
there is a greater increase of mass than of motion in the
population, and the change is on the whole one of social
integration, or there is a greater loss of matter than of
energy, and the change is on the whole one of social disin-
tegration. Either population encroaches on the environ-
ment, or the environment encroaches on the population.
A tendency towards a dispersion of population exists
when, concurrently with a multiplication of numbers and
an increase of individual energy, industry fails to secure
increasing returns.
Usually this tendency does not become powerful enough
to overcome inertia until the group is large. Until then,
therefore, the group holds together, and is subject to any
influences that tend to establish further integration.
Social Differentiation. — The second step in evolution
is called differentiation. It is a process in which different
parts of the integrating mass become unlike.
Since the units of matter in the integrating mass are in
different positions, they cannot be equally affected by the
escaping motion. For example, in the mass of cooling
iron, the exterior cools more rapidly than the interior;
and if the mass is large, it happens that at some stage in
the process of cooling the exterior becomes a solid crust,
while the interior is still molten. Further changes, due to
unequal contraction, may appear in the form of cracks or
breaks ; and these may be of the most unequal and unlike
character in different parts of the mass. Again, unlike
33^ The Elements of Sociology
exposure to like forces, or like exposure to unlike forces,
must change the character and the arrangements of the
units. If a stream of water is permitted to play upon one
part of the molten iron, and a stream of oil upon another
part, the two parts in cooling assume unlike characteristics
of texture and strength.
These facts of differentiation appear in society concur-
rently with every increase and concentration of population.
This was shown in our account of the beginnings of civili-
zation, where, as a result of the integration by conquest of
different race elements, one portion was made a subject
industrial class. It was further shown in the account of
the rise of cities which, rapidly growing by the influx of
elements from many different quarters, soon became or-
ganized by the appearance of different occupations and
professions, beginning with the rise of an artisan class.
It was yet further shown in an account of the enormous
complication of society in the third stage of demogenic
evolution as a result of the increase of population.
Social Segregation. — A third stage in evolution is
known as segregation.
When different kinds and arrangements of units have
been produced, like units that are exposed to the same
or like forces are affected in like ways. Their similarity
becomes more marked, and they are drawn together.
In the social population, the external conditions of
climate and food group like natures together. Racial
likenesses bring together men of like mental and moral
qualities, and so constitute the basis of nationality ; and
like national types, when they have been separated, tend
to reunite. Men of like qualities are brought together
also by occupations. There is a segregation of politicians,
The Theory of Society 339
priests, professional men, literary men, actors and artists,
mechanics and labourers. Various sub-groupings result in
the formation of political parties, religious sects, and social
cliques.
This law is strikingly exemplified in tjie distribution of
immigrants. Germans spread westward from New York
and Pennsylvania to Illinois and Iowa. Four-fifths of the
whole German immigration is found in the northern cen-
tral division of the United States. The Irish remain in
the East along the coast from New York to Maine. The
Swedes and Norwegians seek homes in Minnesota, Wis-
consin, and Illinois ; while the great stream of Italian immi-
gration sets steadily southward to the Argentine Republic
which apparently is destined to be as distinctly an Ameri-
can Italy as New England has been an American Britain.
Co7npoimd EvohUioii. — A fourth and final stage in the
process of evolution is an increase of definiteness and of
coherence.
It is evident that so long as integration continues, the
internal energy of the mass has not wholly disappeared.
Furthermore, in no aggregation is the dissipation of motion
and the integration of matter wholly unaccompanied by a
counter process. Some matter is lost from time to time,
and some energy is absorbed. This is a conspicuous
phase of evolution in organic bodies. When evolution is
thus complicated by an absorption of energy, it is called
compound evolution.
It is compound inasmuch as the internal motion causes
further complications of the evolutionary process. In con-
sequence of the new arrangements of matter that are
occurring, the internal motion itself undergoes a redistribu-
tion within the mass. Thus, there is a further multiplica-
340 The Elements of Sociology
tion of effects ; there are new differentiations and new
segregations ; and there is an increasing definiteness of
both differentiation and segregation.
I In the social population, more than in any other mass
of matter, is yotion s imultaneously lQSt__and absorbed.
Therefore, a social population is more mobile ancfmore
plastic than any other aggregate ; and secondary redis-
tributions of matter and motion are more frequent and
more complicated in society than elsewhere. Social evo-
\ lution is in the highest degree compound.
A high degree of evolution can be attained by society
only if the motion lost is but slightly in excess of the mo-
tion gained, so that the evolutionary process goes on slowly,
allowing abundant time for those small internal secondary
changes that have just been mentioned. Rapid growth
and quickly accomplished reforms are necessarily unsound,
incomplete, and disappointing.
Psychical Causation and Laws. — The psychological laws
of social activity, no less than the physical laws, are de-
ducible from a general principle.
The ultimate psychological principle is closely analogous
to the physical principle of the indestructibility of matter
and motion. Minor and derivative psychological princi-
ples are closely analogous to the physical principles, that
motion is in the line of least resistance and that the redis-
^^y tributions of matter result in a process of evolution.
The Ultimate Psychological Motive is the persistent
desire of consciousness to be clear and painless and, if
i j)0ssible, pleasurable. Consciousness itself may cease.
We cannot say that, like matter, it is indestructible. It
may even desire to cease. But so long as it exists, and
contemplates existence, its desire to be clear and painless
TJie Theory of Society 341
or positively pleasurable is inextinguishable. Conscious-
ness is intolerant of obscurity, perplexity, obstruction, and
suffering.
The Laiv of Least Ejfort. — It is an immediate corollary
of this fundamental truth that consciousness endeavours to
attain painless clearness or positive pleasure with least
difficulty, v^rhich is a mode of either perplexity or pain.
This principle may be called the law of least effort;
and it is perfectly analogous to the physical law of motion
in the line of least resistance. In whatever processes of
thought or endeavour we may be engaged, we strive to
attain a maximum of clearness or of pleasure in some
form, with a minimum of exertion or of pain. This is
sometimes called the attempt to secure a maximum of
pleasure and a minimum of pain. It is doubtful if such is
the best way to express the general law. In the more
complicated processes of reasoning, our attention is occu-
pied with neither pleasure nor pain. None the less, we
endeavour to avoid all unnecessary complications in the
reasoning process, and to secure our results as simply and
as straightforwardly as possible. Therefore, it is better to
include all the modes of consciousness — sensation, percep-
tion, attention, memory, reasoning, pain, and pleasure — in
our general formula, and to state the law of consciousness
in the proposition that consciousness endeavours to attain
painless clearness, or positive pleasure, with a minimiun of
difficulty.
In terms of this law, we find our ultimate explanation
of that fundamental fact of human society which we have
called the consciousness of kind.
Ejective Interpretation. — All knowledge proceeds through
a comparison of the unknown with the known. This is
342 The Elements of Sociology
simply one form of the method of least effort. If, in the
object hitherto unknown, we can find something that
recalls a state of consciousness heretofore experienced,
we have to that extent diminished the difficulties of our
observation or investigation. In the opening chapter of
this book, it was shown that classification enables us to
extend our knowledge to a degree that would be utterly
impossible if we had no other means of dealing with new
experiences but that of carrying every detail consciously
in mind. Classification, then, is one of the methods that
y follow from the law of least effort.
And this is the procedure that is followed when individ-
uals interpret one another in terms of themselves. They
apply the method of least effort in its form of classification
to the problem of determining their individual relations to
their fellow-men. Discovering that some of their acquaint-
ances in certain particulars are very like themselves ; that
other individuals are much less like themselves ; that yet
others are but little like themselves, save in those human
qualities that mark the entire species of mankind, they
quickly form mental classes that are based upon these
degrees of resemblance. This interpretation of others in
terms of one's self may be called ejective interpretation.
The word "eject" means a mental image of another which
is derived largely from one's experiences of one's self.
When the child, observing an object that walks, talks,
and smiles as he himself does, interprets that object in
terms of himself, and concludes that it is a human being
like himself, the mental process which has resulted in this
conclusion is ejective. The child has mentally thrown him-
self into the perceived object, and he understands it because
he has done so.
The Theory of Society 343
Thus, all interpretation of our fellow-beings is ejective.
It proceeds through a comparison of themselves and our-
selves in which the various points of resemblance and of
difference are observed and classified. Ejective interpre-
tation is the intellectual element in the consciousness of
kind, which, therefore, is so far simply a consequence of
the law that mental activity follows the line of least effort.
The Limits of Sympathy. — But the same is true also of
the sympathetic and emotional elements of the conscious-
ness of kind. Sympathy and affection go out to those who
most resemble ourselves, simply because such is the direc-
tion of least difficulty. This was shown in some detail in
the account of sympathy in Chapter VI. Sympathy and
affection, as there described, result from the habits of
like response to the same stimuli. Therefore, there is
much material for the genesis of sympathy between re-
sembling individuals, and comparatively little between
greatly differing individuals. To perfectly satisfy our-
selves that the interpretation of sympathy in terms of the
law of least effort is the true one, we have only to ask our-
selves what happens when we have the feeling that we
ought to sympathize with some person or class of persons,
as distinguished from a spontaneous outgoing of sympathy
towards them Any student who will carefully think over
this problem, will have no difficulty in convincing himself
that sympathy and affection are simply cases of mental
activity in the direction of least effort.
The Diversifying of Satisfactions. — Once more, it is
equally true that the law of least effort affords us our only
interpretation of the desire for recognition.
The source of all our satisfactions ultimately is to be
found in the external world. We first obtain satisfaction
344 '^^^ Elements of Sociology
of our bodily desires in forms of food and of material com-
fort. Soon, however, we discover a principle known to
economists, and occasionally referred to in this volume,
which may be called the law of incremental utility. Addi-
tional quantities of the same means of satisfaction fail to
afford us proportionately large returns of pleasure ; or, in
other words, beyond a certain point, equal degrees of effort
expended in the same direction fail to yield corresponding
returns of satisfaction. By changing the means of satis-
faction, we for a time obtain increasing returns with dimin-
ished effort. Therefore, it is a deduction from the law of
least effort that we seek to vary our means of satisfaction.
In this search, however, we are still governed by the law
of least effort. We seek our means of satisfaction first
among objects and activities with which we are already
familiar, or that are most like things with which we are
familiar.
Causes and Limits of the Desire for Recognition. — Among
the very earliest pleasures of life are those that we derive
from the ministering attentions of mother and other family
relatives and friends. It is they who provide us with our
first satisfactions of every kind ; and it is their attentions
that, by continued association with bodily comfort and by
direct stimulation of all our senses, give us increasing
pleasure. Therefore, we learn to take delight in recogni-
tion and attention by the fellow-beings that are nearest
to us.
Then, according to the law that we seek to increase
satisfaction by searching for new means or new sources
of pleasure among objects that most closely resemble
those with which we are already 'familiar, we begin to
look for recognition, attention, and sympathy from those
The Theory of Society 345
fellow-beings who most closely resemble our immediate
family friends and ourselves. Little by little the circle
is widened, until we have formed the habit of expecting
recognition and sympathy from all human beings, in a
gradation that corresponds to their degrees of resemblance
to ourselves.
Thus, in its entirety, the consciousness of kind is seen
to be a consequence of the persistence of mental activity
in the lines of least difficulty.
The Precedence of Immediate Pleasure. — In the same
law lies the explanation of the social principle that society
is primarily created by the immediate pleasurableness of
companionship, and that the beneficial reactions of asso-
ciation, in mutual protection and increasing wealth, are
later recognized. It is obvious that immediate pleasure
appeals to the mind more directly than considerations of
remoter utility." In choosing immediate pleasure in pref-
erence to remoter utility, the mind simply follows the law
of activity in the direction of least effort. Only when
immediate pleasure begins to be a diminishing return, does
the mind reach out by a new effort to discover and to
obtain the possible remoter utilities.
Causes of Impulsive and Formal Cofidicct. — We pass now
to a consideration of those laws of sympathetic and im-
pulsive social action, of tradition and authority, and of
rational social choice that were formulated in the chapters
on The Social Mind.
Primary social action is sympathetic and impulsive, and
the social action in which a majority of individuals in the
population are competent pd participate is sympathetic
and impulsive for the perfectly obvious reason that sym-
pathy and impulse are less difficult than rational self-con-
f^
346 The Elements of Sociology
trol. In like manner, conformity to a course of conduct
once entered upon, uncritical obedience of authority, un-
critical acceptance of belief, are all far easier than inde-
pendent judgment. Consequently, formal like-mindedness
and conformity to an established order are more general
than rational social choice.
Causes of Rational Conduct. — How, then, can it possibly
happen that rational social choice can occur at all } The
answer is, because, in accordance with the law of least
effort, we are compelled from time to time to vary our
means of satisfaction. Sympathetic and formal like-
mindedness yield diminishing returns. Impulsive social
action frequently proves to be enormously costly and
destructive. Formal like-mindedness, conformity to tradi-
tional belief and authority, as was shown in the chapters
on Civilization and Progress, carry us a long way towards
the attainment of social and material satisfactions ; but
beyond a certain point they bar further progress. They
stand in the way of the further exploitation of new means
of satisfaction. When this point is reached, further
activity in the line of least effort is necessarily rational.
It is the attempt to secure satisfactions by indirect means,
as was explained in Chapter XIII, after direct means have
failed. This process, however, begins subjectively in
individual minds before it becomes an objective organi-
zation of social cooperation. Here again, in accordance
with the law of least effort, it begins in those most highly
developed minds in which it is least difficult. These are
the comparatively few. For this reason, rational social
choice, the formation of true public opinion, and the
rational leadership of social activity are, and must always
continue to be, the function of the few.
The Theory of Society 347
Specific Laws. — We might here continue to show in
detail that the specific laws of the growth of impulsive
social action by geometrical progression, of the strength
of authority and tradition in proportion to their antiquity,
and in proportion to the predominanpe of belief over
reasoned conclusions are all corollaries of the fundamental
psychological principles ; but these the student will have /^
no trouble in thinking out for himself. The same is true
of the specific laws of rational choice, of preference, of
combination, and of means.
Causes of Civilization and Progress. — Finally, we have^ \
to point out that the laws of social organization, of civiliza-- -^
tion, and of progress are all, in like manner, corollaries
of the fundamental psychological principle. Nothing is
easier than for men who understand one another to live
without coercive government, because they can anticipate
|>f{ one another's conduct, and can depend upon each other's
\^ good faith and kindly intentions. Therefore, to a com-
munity of such men, liberty is possible. To a community
of extremely heterogeneous men, it is impossible because
of the insuperable mental difficulty of sympathy and com-
prehension. Civilization we found to be a product of the \
passion for homogeneity, and its policies to be expressions
of that passion. No passion is more immediately a conse- ^
quence of the persistence of consciousness in the paths of
least difficulty than is the desire to overcome the hinderances
to sympathy, to mutual agreement, and to social organiza-
tion that present themselves in a chaos of mental and
moral qualities. To assimilate these to a common type
is the first step towards achieving the satisfactions of
civilization with least effort.
The toleration of variety, of criticism and discussion,
I
348 The Elements of Sociology
in their turn, are those later consequences of mental
activity in the lines of least difficulty that appear when
the returns of immediate satisfaction through homogeneity
begin to diminish.
A few pages back, it was said that the mental and moral
consequences of activity in the line of least difficulty are
analogous to evolution in physical phenomena. How this
comes about has been partially indicated in a preceding
paragraph.
When immediate satisfactions, obtained by any given
kind and degree of effort, begin to diminish,. the outreach-
ing of the mind for new means of satisfaction is analogous
to the equilibration of energy between a material mass
and its environment. The immediate consequence is an
integration of consciousness. The sum total of experi-
ences, of knowledge, of sensations, is increased. In the
very process of integration, however, differentiation and
segregation begin. New pleasures and a continual in-
crease of satisfaction, in proportion to effort, come only
with variation in the means of satisfaction and through a
putting forth of effort in that new and indirect mode
which we call reason. In the social passion for homo-
geneity, we see the process of integration; in the de-
velopment of discussion and of criticism, we see mental
differentiation and segregation. These higher intellectual
processes, therefore, are differential consequences of mental
activity in the paths of least effort, as truly as physical dif-
ferentiation is a consequence of equilibration in the lines of
least resistance.
Intellectual Strife. — One further analogy discloses a
law of the psychological process in human society that
is of more momentous practical importance than any other.
The Theory of Society 349
Compound evolution and continuing differentiation in*
the physical world were shown to depend upon the com-*
parative slowness with which the contained energy of any*
material mass is dissipated. A too rapid integration re-
sults in a speedy termination of evolution, and prevention
of those more delicate transformations that can occur
only through the slow redistribution of contained motion. '
Thus it appears that, although differentiation depends
upon integration, beyond a certain point the rate of differ-
entiation varies inversely with the rate of integration.
ji In the description of conflict in Chapter IV, it was shown
JW that those secondary conflicts which include the pleasura-
Af ble activities of thought, sympathy, association, and dis-
cussion are dependent upon the ruder forms of primary
conflict. Primary conflict is essentially identical with in-
tegration, and secondary conflict with differentiation.
Now, in the psychical processes of society, homogeneity,
as was set forth in the chapter on Civilization, and in the
chapters on Sympathetic and Formal Like-mindedness, is
not infrequently brought about by an extremely rapid in-
tegration. On the psychological side, primary conflict or
rapid integration is a rapid discharge of motor impulse.
Its external expression is the use of physical force in war-
fare and persecution. These methods, then, are inconsist-
ent with that high degree of evolution which includes the
more delicate adaptations.
In terms of the process itself, this is expressed by saying
that, just as the rates of differentiation and integration
beyond a certain point vary inversely, so, beyond a certain
point, the rates of physical and intellectual strife vary
inversely.
This means, first, that all harsh, passionate attempts to
350 The Elements of Sociology
hasten organization by coercive methods are subversive of
the higher intellectual activities. It means, secondly, that
intellectual strife gradually diminishes physical strife with
all its wastefulness and misery. It means, finally, that only
through the supremacy of intellectual over physical strife can
the higher and finer results of social evolution be attained.
So far, then, from its being a duty for men and women
to suppress their intellectual convictions, to yield tamely
their independently thought-out views of truth and right
and policy, in the mistaken notion that intellectual conten-
tion is disreputable or unmannerly or unkind, as are the
forms of physical strife, the precise opposite is true. In-
tellectual strife makes for rational, and ultimately for ethi-
cal, like-mindedness ; it makes for peace, prosperity, and
happiness. The highest duty of every rational being is to,
engage with sincere and disinterested earnestness in the
glorious contests of intellectual strife.
The Two Processes. — Thus social^^gyolutioa is primarily
a physical process. Physical laws determine the aggre-
gation, the growth,^ the movements, and arrangements of
population ; they determine the amount, the kinds, and the
combinations of social activities.
But within aggregations of men, mental activities are
continually asserting themselves and working themselves
out in conformity to psychological law. In this process
the human mind, aware of itself, deliberately forms and
carries out policies for the organization and perfection of
social life, in order that the great end of society, the per- \
fection of the individual personality, may be completely \
attained. Society is not a purely mechanical product of
physical evolution. To a great extent it is an intended
product of .psychological ev olutio n.
The Theory of Society 351
Social Survival. — Nevertheless, the final forms that
social relations assume, the institutions, laws, and policies
that are ultimately incorporated in social organization and
activity, are determined, not by conscious social choice, but
by a process of survival, which is itsdf conditioned by
cosmic law over which man has no control. In fine, the
ultimate forms of society are determined by a process of
natural selection and survival.
Not all objects of social choice are long-enduring.
Many social rules and forms that were once sanctioned
by the social mind have become only a memory; thou-
sands of laws and institutions have become extinct. Ex-
isting social values and arrangements are survivals.
Social products sometimes disappear through the extinc-
tion of races, communities, or classes. Usually, however,
the relations, forms, laws, and institutions that perish fail
through the indifference and defection of those individuals
who have undertaken to maintain them.
The poUtical, industrial, religious, or other associations
that cease to exist usually fail through a decrease of their
membership ; and laws become a dead letter because the
community ceases to care or think about them. Con-
versely, the social forms, laws, and institutions that sur-
vive, persist through their power to hold the interest and
allegiance of individuals who are able to enforce or to sup-
port them. In the long run, all such power to interest
and to hold allegiance springs from utility. It is when
the law or the institution ceases to benefit that its power
over men fails.
Nattiral Selection. — As thus brought about, the survival
and the extinction of forms, laws, and institutions is a true
natural selection.
352 The Elements of Sociology
Natural selection is commonly thought of as a survival
of individuals through some superiority of organization.
This, however, is an inadequate conception of the actual
process. In the struggle for existence, an organism
perishes if its food-getting, food-assimilating, or other
vital organs fail to perform their functions, or perform
them in maladjustment to environment and conditions.
A race, in like manner, perishes if the reproductive organs
fail in function. Conversely, any superiority of function,
whether due to a beneficial variation in organization or to
any other cause, insures survival.
Natural selection, therefore, is survival through a supe-
rior adaptation and performance of function, in a com-
petition in which non-adaptation or non-performance of
function is fatal. And this is exactly what happens
among social forms, laws, and institutions. The failure
to benefit, to interest, and to hold allegiance is a failure
of function ; and the selection that results among laws
and institutions from successes and failures of function is
therefore a true natural selection.
TJie Law of Survival. — The successful performance of
functions by institutions, as by vital organs, depends upon
an increasing nicety of adaptation to an ever-complicating
environment.
"The environment" is an ever-changing group of rela-
tions. Like the thing or organism environed, it is under-
going ceaseless evolution, and is becoming more and more
diversified through differentiation.
Accordingly, the law of the survival of social interests
and relations — forms, laws, and institutions — is as fol-
lows :
Those social valuations and relations persist which are
TJie Theory of Society
<^
component parts of a total of values and relations that is
becoming ever more complex through the inclusion of new
interests and new relations, and at the same time more thor-
ou.ghly harmonious and coherent.
Thus, social causation is a process of psychical activity I /
conditioned by physical processes and cosmic law. i | ^
PARALLEL STUDY
Read Spencer's "First Principles," Part II; Ward's "Outlines of
Sociology," or "Psychic Factors of Civilization"; Kidd's "Social
Evolution " ; and Mackenzie's " Introduction to Social Philosophy,"
Chapters III, IV, Vj 'S cji»M **>.*nt to ^-o «.v--»a.w.
2A
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