Chapter III: The Age of Heroes and Gods (2)

The difference between the two fundamental forms of society, the totemic and the political, is most strikingly evident in the case of their most external characteristic--namely, in the _numbers_ according to which society as a whole, as well as in its parts, is organized and divided. These numbers are the expression of inner motives; hence they form a basis from which we may draw conclusions concerning the latter. In the case of totemic tribal organization, these motives are apparently very simple; natural expansion over a broader territory leads to separation into groups, and this of itself gives rise to the customary division into two, four, and eight parts. How different and more complicated from its very beginnings is the organization of political society! Here also the development proceeds according to law, and yet there is not a constant recurrence of the same motive as is in the case of totemic tribal organization. On the contrary, we find a continuous fluctation between contradictory phenomena, and the frequent appearance of new motives. Early, and still partly legendary, tradition tells us of an organization of society on the basis of the number _twelve_. This mode of organization seems to have emanated from the Babylonians. They were the people who first attempted to govern human affairs in accordance with celestial phenomena. These they observed, not in the unsystematic, imaginative, mythological manner of the natural peoples of Polynesia and America, but with the aid of astronomical instruments. True, the science of the Babylonians was also still based on mythological foundations. These mythological features, however, were combined with the idea of an all-embracing, divine rule of law. The endeavour to find this law and order in the starry sky, the greatest and most sublime sight that the human eye may behold, resulted in observations that were scientific and exact. Thus, the union of the two ideas led with a sort of inner necessity to the acceptance of the number twelve as a norm. The application of this norm to human relations was a direct result of the belief that it was of divine origin. The Babylonian calendar, whose fundamental principles, in spite of numerous reforms, have retained their authority even down to the present, was the first to emphasize the principle of bringing the courses of the sun and moon into an ordered numerical relation for the purpose of reckoning time. Taking as their point of departure the position of the sun at the vernal equinox, and following the movements of the moon until the sun returned to the same position, the Babylonians found that twelve revolutions of the moon were equivalent to one of the sun. While this observation is in reality, of course, only approximately true, to the first astronomers it might have appeared sufficiently exact to be regarded as the law of a divine world order. Thus, the year came to be divided into twelve months; and, since the moon presents four phases in each month, first quarter, full moon, last quarter, and new moon--an observation which long antedates astronomical calculation--the month was at once divided into four parts. Since the month has approximately twenty-eight days, the result was a _week_, comprising _seven days_. This number, therefore, was not, as has sometimes been erroneously assumed, derived from the seven planets. Rather is it true, conversely, that the number of the planets was, with a certain arbitrariness, first fixed at seven after this number, as well as twelve, had come to be regarded as _sacred_, because of its relation to the movements of the sun and moon. These numbers were believed to be written by the gods themselves in flaming letters on the sky. To the Babylonian, the sky furnished a revelation of the laws that should govern terrestrial life. The number twelve, especially, was adopted as the basis of the organization of human society. Of this oldest form of division, however, only meagre and occasional survivals have remained. We may refer to the legendary twelve tribes of pre-exilic Israel--later a source of much difficulty to Talmudic scholars, inasmuch as these tribes are not to be found in history--and also to the twelve gods of Greece, the twelve Apostles, etc. But the number twelve has not merely left its traces in legend; it has also inscribed itself in the records of history. Thus, the Athenian population originally comprised twelve divisions, there being four clans (_phyles_), each of which was composed of three _phratries_. Similarly, the colonial territory of the Greeks in Asia Minor is said to have included twelve Ionic cities. Moreover, even in later times, the Amphictyonic League, which undertook the protection of the Delphic oracle, consisted of twelve amphictyons, though this, it is true, was also connected with the division of time, each of the twelve tribal groups being entrusted with the guardianship of the shrine for one month in the year. With few unimportant exceptions, however, the number twelve, which was at one time probably very widely regnant, has lost its influence. Its place in the organization of society as well as in the regulation of other aspects of human life has been taken by a numerical system that still dominates our entire culture--the _decimal_ system. Even prior to the age of Columbus, the decimal system made its appearance in certain more civilized parts of the Western world where the duodecimal system was never known. That the former originated independently in different places, is rendered all the more likely by the fact that even primitive man used his ten fingers as an aid in counting, in spite of the fact that he had not as yet formed words for numbers greater than three or four. But, however natural this method of counting may be, its application to the organization of the group and the division of peoples nevertheless represents a _deliberately adopted_ plan. If possible, this is even more true here than in the case of the duodecimal system. We are now face to face with the wide difference that separates political society from totemic tribal organization. In developing on the principle of dual division, the latter resembles a natural process which runs its own course apart from any operation of conscious intention, even though directly influenced, of course, by the general conditions of human life. The organization of society according to the number ten, on the other hand, can be interpreted only as an intentional act. Hence history not infrequently brings this form of organization into direct association with the names of individual lawgivers, with Clisthenes of Athens or Servius Tullius of Rome. No doubt, a basis for this new order had been prepared by the general conditions of a society which had progressed beyond the totemic stage. Its systematic introduction, however, and the series of decimal subdivisions that ensued, are only conceivable as a legislative act emanating from a personal will. In the formation of social groups, no less than in the classification and enumeration of external objects of nature, there may at times have been some vacillation of choice between the duodecimal and the decimal systems. In its application to human society, however, the decimal system finally prevailed. Indeed, the simple means of counting afforded by our ten fingers supplanted the system suggested by the firmament in every field of use, except in connection with celestial phenomena themselves and with the reckoning of time, which was directly based on the observation of these phenomena. That the victory of the decimal principle was due merely to the practical necessity of choosing the principle that was simplest and most convenient, is shown by the fact that ten was never a sacred number, as was twelve. It has a purely terrestrial and human origin. In the field of the practical necessities of life, man was victorious over the gods. Perhaps, therefore, the organization of society on the decimal principle reflects also the triumph of the secular State over theocracy. The decimal principle likewise exercised a certain influence upon the division of time, and it is surely not accidental that such influence coincides with epochs that are strongly characterized by a secularization of human interests. As early as the sixth century B.C., the great political organizer of Athens, Clisthenes, made an attempt to divide the year into ten months instead of twelve. The attempt miscarried, just as did the analogous one on the part of the first French Republic to introduce a week of ten days. As a matter of fact, objective measurements of time are derived from the heavens and not from man. On the other hand, our measurement of terrestrial spaces and our grouping of populations depend entirely upon ourselves, and therefore naturally conform to human characteristics. In these cases, it is the decimal system that is used. In view of the fact that the number ten was deliberately adopted, this number has been thought to represent an idea that emanated from a single source. Since the organization effected by Clisthenes and that of Servius Tullius in Rome fall approximately within the same century, it has been believed that in these cases, especially, we may assume this fundamental idea of division to have been borrowed. The very extensive distribution of the decimal system, however, militates against the probability of this supposition. Thus, the Book of Exodus no longer speaks of the legendary twelve tribes of Israel but tells of only _ten_ tribes. We likewise hear of groups of one hundred, and of more extensive groups consisting of one thousand. These divisions also recur among the Germanic peoples, and in the far-distant realm of the Peruvian Incas. Among the latter, however, there are also distinct traces of a totemic tribal organization that antedated the invasion of the Incas. This was the foundation upon which the Inca kings and their officials finally reared an organization consisting of groups of ten, one hundred, and one thousand--indeed, the latter were even brought together to form groups of ten thousand. In certain cases, such systems may perhaps have been introduced from without or may, in part, have been acquired through imitation. Nevertheless, the supposition that they all emanated from a single region is doubtless just as improbable as is the view that the decimal system in general had but a single origin. This new grouping of the population is closely bound up with the conditions of political society. It is dependent upon _two_ motives, which, though not universally operative at first, became so the very moment that political society took its rise. The first motive is of a subjective nature. It consists in an increased facility in the use of the decimal mode of counting, as a result of which larger groups, consisting of multiples of ten, are formed: besides the single group of ten, it must have become possible to conceive of groups of one hundred, one thousand, and, in rare cases, even of one hundred thousand. The other motive is objective in character. There are changes in the external conditions of life such as to demand more comprehensive and at the same time more highly organized divisions than prevailed in the natural tribal organization of the preceding age. In two distinct directions does the decimal system prove readily applicable. One is in the distribution of landed property. With the appearance of plough-culture, land gradually came to be largely converted into personal property. It was all the more necessary, therefore, for the individual to unite with others for the sake of protection and aid. Thus arose the mark-community. This naturally centred about that part of the territory which, because it was not put under the plough but was reserved for common use as well as common care, temporarily remained common property--namely, the pasture and woodland. Thus, the _mark-community_ was inevitable: it resulted from the new method of cultivating the soil, which brought with it a combination of personal property with common ownership. The size of the community was, of course, determined by the relation which these two forms of ownership sustained to each other, being dependent upon the fact that the amount of common property had to correspond with the number of individual owners who shared its use. The right proportion of these two sorts of property could be determined only by experience and reflection. Once ascertained, it was but natural to adopt this proportion more generally, in connection with more extensive groups of people. Here the decimal organization into groups of tens and hundreds, to which subjective influences naturally tended, promised to be convenient also from the standpoint of objective conditions.

Independently of other factors the mark-community might have permitted certain diversities in size. The groups were rendered uniform, however, through the influence of another organization, whose divisions, on the one hand, were necessarily identical with the mark-communities but, on the other hand, possessed by their very nature a strong inherent tendency toward regularity of size. I refer to the _military organization_, which was created by the political society in the interest of self-protection. In the early part of the heroic period, the individual champion was doubtless of such pre-eminent importance that the masses formed but a somewhat unorganized background. Homer presents such a picture, though his account is perhaps not so much a faithful representation of actual conditions as the result of the individualizing tendency of poetic narrative. But just as the masses very soon gain greater prominence in political life, so also do they in warfare. This encourages tactical organization. At this stage of political and military development, therefore, companies of one hundred, and soon afterwards groups of one thousand, are formed, and are organized as the chief divisions of the army. That these groups be always of approximately equal size is required by military tactics; that the group of one hundred is the tactical unit of which the other divisions are composed, is due to the circumstance that such a group is not too large to permit of being directed by a single leader; that the number is an even one hundred results solely from the tendency toward decimal enumeration. Since the political society is composed of individuals who are, as a rule, both mark-associates and companions in war, the two groups coalesce. The distribution of property and territorial and military organization are the determining factors in political society.

Political society thus acquires a new basis. The conditions determining its character are very different from those that underlie totemic tribal organization. Quite naturally, therefore, the tribal system disappears with the rise of the State; it is at best but fragments of it that survive in names, cult-alliances, or in bits of custom. On the other hand, the new organization exercises an influence upon all the relations of life. In part, it effects changes in existing institutions; in part, it creates new institutions, which unite to give the political age its characteristic stamp. We have spoken of the peaceful arts of agriculture, which provide for the maintenance of society, and of the military organization, reared upon agriculture to assure safety and protection from without. There are primarily _three_ additional features that characterize political society, especially at its inception. The first of these is a _reorganization of the family_. The other two are genuinely new creations, if we except certain sporadic beginnings that occur in the transitional culture. They consist, on the one hand, in the _differentiation of classes and of occupations_--both of which arise in one and the same course of development--and, on the other, in the _foundation of cities_. Doubtless this order of sequence also approximately indicates the successive steps in the establishment of the new political organization. The reorganization of the family inaugurates this development; it is terminated by the founding of cities, for cities are the centres from which the management of the State is conducted and which mediate intercourse between the separate regions; following upon the former and preceding the latter, is the differentiation of classes and of occupations--a result of property conditions and of military organization.

4. FAMILY ORGANIZATION WITHIN POLITICAL SOCIETY.

Wherever primitive man has been protected against foreign influences, as we have seen, he apparently always lives in monogamy. This mode of marriage is continued in the totemic age, and is the fundamental mode from which all others are deviations. These deviations we found to be the two forms of polygamy--polyandry and polygyny. In the presence of these various marriage practices, firmly established family bonds are impossible. Striking evidence of the recedence of the family as compared with the social bond, is offered by the men's club, that widely prevalent institution of the totemic age. True, the individual member of the men's club may have his own wife who lives in her particular hut, but there is no common life of husband and wife such as is essential for a true family. In certain cases, of course, marriage conditions approximate somewhat more closely to a true family life, yet the development is hindered by the overshadowing polygyny. But the beginning of the political age marks the rise of a new form of monogamy. The _enlarged monogamous family_, the so-called ancient or joint family, makes its appearance. The joint family, which is characteristic of the heroic era, takes the place of the clan. Though the latter also survives for a time, it more and more loses its importance and finally disappears altogether. Now the clan, as well as the joint family, is composed of individuals of the same ancestry--that is, of blood relations, in the wider sense--even though, in exceptional cases, it also includes members of other clans or even tribal strangers. The recedence of the clan in favour of the joint family must therefore be regarded as a process in which a limited number of closer blood relatives separate from the clan and gradually attain the dominant influence within society. Such a development presupposes first of all a sharper demarcation of the individual family. Hence the joint family directly impresses one as being an extension of the individual family. As a rule, for example, a joint family includes _three_ generations: father, son, and grandchild. This series of generations terminates with the third, because the oldest male member retains the authority over the joint family only so long as there is no generation younger than grandchildren. Though a great-grandfather is honoured as the oldest member of the family, the authority over the joint family passes down to the son who has become a grandfather. Moreover, nature allows such cases as this but rarely. The life-span of three generations is approximately a century; and the average life of man is such that it happens but seldom that those who are living at any one time will outspan a century. Thus, the fact that the ancient family comprised three generations may be due to the natural limit of life, which does not seem to have changed essentially since the beginnings of civilization. The family organization under discussion, therefore, is characterized, in the first place, by monogamy; secondly, by the dominance of the man within the single family; and thirdly, by the inclusion of three generations under the authority of the oldest member of the family. This third characteristic has frequently caused the typical joint family to be called the '_patriarchal_ family.' Since it was true even of the clan that the older men exercised the decisive influence, the clan may be regarded as preparing the way for a patriarchal order. Such clan alliances, for example, as the Germanic kinship groups, in which the fact of the blood relationship of the members receives particularly strong emphasis, form a sort of transition between the clan and the joint family. In the joint family, it is no longer the older generation as such that is dominant, but the _oldest individual_. This change, as a result of which authority becomes vested in an individual, is paralleled by that which leads to individual rulership within the State. Thus, totemic tribal organization is doubly exposed to disintegration, from below and from above. On the one hand, the patriarchal joint family undermines the leadership of the clan-elders. On the other hand, the clans, together with the tribes whose divisions they form, are shorn of their power; they become fused into one group which, with the rise of political society, passes under the rulership of a single chieftain. It is particularly important to notice that, when the joint family emerges and clan organization is consequently dissolved, one of the most important functions of the more restricted clan alliances, so far as concerns the inner life of society, passes from the clan to the joint family. I refer to _blood-revenge_. Not until it underwent many changes did retribution come to be an affair of the State. Thus, the patriarchal family brings to completion a twofold series of changes, whose gradual beginnings may be discerned as early as the previous age. These are, in the first place, the displacement of maternal descent by _paternal descent_, and, secondly, the development of _chieftainship_. The latter at once concludes and annuls totemic tribal organization. The motives to the former show how untrue to the real nature of the difference between the two social institutions it is to speak of the contrast between mother_-right_ and father_-right_, or even between maternal _rule_ and paternal _rule_, instead of referring to the transition as one from maternal _descent_ to paternal _descent_. Mother-right is to be found at most in a limited sense, as applying to certain rights of the kinship community and, connected with these, at a later time, to the inheritance of property; mother-_rule_ never occurs, or at most is an abnormal and exceptional phenomenon having scarcely any connection with maternal descent as such. The motives to maternal descent, as we have seen, are totally unrelated to the question of dominance within the family; they are the direct result of a separation of the sexes, which manifests itself likewise in the men's clubs. Paternal descent, on the other hand, is from the very outset based on paternal rule. In the form of father-right, paternal rule prevails even in the case of the primitive monogamous family. Its original source is the natural physical superiority of man; later, it derives its main strength from the fact--reflected also in the origin of chieftainship--that the general affairs of peace, as well as of war with hostile tribes, become subject to the authority of leaders. This latter factor comes to reinforce the former at that stage of development, particularly, which is characterized by the dissolution of totemic institutions and the re-emergence of the monogamous family. It is this change, together with the growing influence of chieftainship, that marks the beginning of the political age. Thus, the restoration of the monogamous family came as a result of political organization. The general course of development was the same everywhere, though the particular steps varied greatly. It was especially in connection with the rise of the patriarchal joint family, which is intermediate between the kinship group and the individual family, that obstructing influences sometimes manifested themselves. In such cases, the course of development was at once deflected directly towards the individual family. A patriarchal family organization of a sharply defined character appeared very early among many of the Semitic tribes, particularly among the Israelites. Of the Indo-Germanic peoples, it was especially the Romans who long preserved the patriarchal system; among the Greeks and the Germanic peoples, it had already disappeared in early times in favour of the single family. That which preserved the joint family was probably the force of tradition, coupled with reverence of age; the single family reflects a sense of freedom on the part of individuals. This brings out clearly the essential difference between the original monogamy, which was due to natural instinct and the simple conditions of primitive life, and the monogamy that was reinstituted as a result of the new tendencies of political society. In the former case, no progress was made beyond the natural starting-point, namely, the single family; in the latter case, the joint family mediated the transition between the dissolution of clans and the establishment of political society. Inasmuch as the acts of primitive man were largely determined by instincts, the original monogamy is not to be interpreted as conformity to a norm. The reason for the almost universal occurrence of monogamous marriage is to be found in the uniformity of the conditions of life and of the social impulses. The monogamy of the political age, on the other hand, is confronted by all those conflicting tendencies which had previously given rise to the various polygamous marriage-unions of totemic society. _One_ of these modes of marriage especially, namely, _polygyny_, finds favourable conditions of development in the new political order. It receives fresh impetus as a result of that very dominance of man which brought about the transition from the maternal descent of earlier times to paternal descent. Polyandry and group-marriage, on the other hand, have by this time disappeared, either entirely or, at least, with rare exceptions. Moreover, the character of polygyny has changed. This is apparent from the distinction between _chief wife_ and _secondary wife_--a distinction which has, indeed, an analogy in certain phenomena of the totemic period, but which, as a result of the conditions of public life, now rests upon an entirely different basis. The chief wife is taken from one's own tribe; the secondary wife belongs to a strange tribe, being, in many cases, a slave captured in war. Thus, these changes in polygyny reflect the warlike character of the age, as well as a growing tendency toward a return to monogamy. On the other hand, however, we also discern certain tendencies of a retrogressive nature. These occur particularly within Islamitic culture, whenever the difference between chief and secondary wives is either annulled or is subordinated to the will of the husband. Such deviations from the general trend of development are usually attributed to the influence of personalities. It is not impossible, however, that they are due in this case to the fact that Islamism spread to peoples of totemic culture. But in other departments of life also, remnants and traces of totemic culture have passed down to the heroic era. A striking example appears in the case of the Spartan State. The fact that the men lived in the city, engaged in military drill and political affairs, while the women, together with the slaves, cultivated the fields outside of the city, clearly betrays the influence of the ancient institution of the men's club.

5. THE DIFFERENTIATION OF CLASSES.

We have seen that the family assumes a new status within political society. It comes to be a compact unit, contrasting markedly with the groups composed of the same sex--in particular, the men's clubs--that dominated the preceding period. The _differentiation of classes_ was a no less potent factor in the development of political society. Its beginnings, no doubt, go back to the declining period of totemic tribal institutions, but only in the political age does it become an important influence in social organization. This is due to _two_ conditions, which are themselves the direct result of the folk migrations that mark the beginning of the political age. The first of these conditions consists in changes affecting property rights; the other, in the subjection of the native populations by the more energetic immigrants. The origin of property, as is well known, is even to-day generally traced, from an abstract juristic point of view, to the occupancy of an ownerless piece of land. This theory, however, is too abstract to be generally true. Above all, it presupposes the existence of ownerless land. But this is seldom to be found. Even when a migrating people occupies new lands, it, as a rule, conquers a territory that was previously in the possession of other tribes. If, therefore, we have in mind the sort of property that was most significant for the development of political culture, we should trace its origin to an _expropriation of earlier owners_ rather than to an occupation of ownerless land. Contradicting the abstract theory, moreover, is the fact that it is not the individual who becomes the owner of property through such occupation, but the _entire tribe_, the people that has immigrated and has dispossessed the original inhabitants. Property, therefore, was originally _common property_. True, even in early times, it was no longer all of the land that was held in common ownership. Nevertheless, the conditions of ownership that have emerged in the course of the development of political society give unmistakable evidence of having originated in common ownership. Even up to fairly recent times, woodland and meadow have remained, either entirely or in part, common property; usually there is also a special temple-property set apart for purposes of cult. Everything goes to show that these cases are to be regarded as remnants of a common property that was at one time more comprehensive, and not as the result of joining pieces of property that were at one time owned by individuals. The latter hypothesis is contradicted by the whole direction of development of private property. Interacting with changes in property rights are racial differences. The conquering immigrant peoples subjugate the native races or crowd them back. All the cultural peoples that possess a political organization are the product of folk mixtures. The subjugation of an original population may lead to varying results, depending on the racial difference between the peoples involved. If this difference is very great and the numerical relation makes the absorption of the one by the other impossible, there develops a distinction of castes, as in India, where the lower castes are clearly distinguishable from the higher, even as to physical characteristics. The situation is radically different where there is less divergence between the two populations. In such cases, racial distinctions do not occur, or at least only to a small extent; in their stead, we find differences with respect to property and power. The conquering race becomes a privileged class; those who are subjugated form a class of dependents who possess fewer rights. There is no impassable barrier between the two classes, however, as there is in the caste system. The more a fairly unitary folk-type emerges from the racial fusions, and the more other factors than descent come into prominence--such as common interest in internal order and external defence, or a remarkable personal ability on the part of individual leaders of the lower classes--the greater the tendency, on the one hand, towards the abolition of traditional differences, and, on the other, towards an increased recognition of personal achievement as the basis of social standing. Such social struggles as occurred in the history of Greece and Rome from their early days on, are particularly illuminating as regards this point, for they exhibit clearly the motives that were originally involved--motives that later everywhere become more complicated.

From the very outset these motives exert a potent influence on property relations. The occupied territory first becomes the common property of the separate divisions of the immigrant tribe. The individual, however, vies with his tribal associates for the possession of the territory, and the new agricultural conditions connected with the introduction of cattle and of the plough favour division of the land. In addition to the superior ability of an immigrant race, it is its superior civilization that assures to it the supremacy over the native races. This superior civilization, however, involves a strong tendency toward individual industry, and thus toward the differentiation of personal property from common property. The success which the individual owner enjoys in his labour develops in him a consciousness of freedom, and this leads him to compete with his tribal associates both in the acquisition of property and in the attainment of power over the native population. Thus, the division of common property is succeeded by an inequality of personal property--an inequality which, from the very beginning, shows an unconquerable tendency to increase. This tendency is fostered by the fact that political organization makes it possible for individuals to exercise a certain control over common affairs. Property considerations become more and more decisive as regards class distinctions. In addition to descent from privileged ancestors, it is property that gives the individual his social position. An individual belonging to a people that at one time formed a class without rights, may rise to the ranks of the privileged classes, or, if the significance attached to birth continues to be maintained, he, together with those like him, may at any rate attain to an independent influence in public life. Property, however, not only affords increased rights; it also entails greater obligations. The wealthy possess a better military equipment, and are therefore enlisted in the more efficient, but also the more dangerous, divisions of the army. They are entrusted with leadership in war as well as with authority in times of peace. Individual initiative makes itself felt, and this, coupled with the opportunity for the exercise of such initiative, causes political development to appear, from an external point of view, as a series of separate voluntary acts on the part of individual personal leaders. This, however, is not the real truth of the situation so far as its inner motives are concerned. The heroic age is the epoch in which the action of the masses, impulsive and under the sway of environmental conditions, is more and more subjected to the direction of individual leaders who have become clearly conscious of the tendencies inherent in the social body. For this reason the heroic age is pre-eminently the _era of personalities_. Just as the personal god is dominant in mythology and religious cult, so the human personality plays the leading rôle in the State, and particular, outstanding individuals determine the conditions that regulate external life.

As personality comes into prominence, however, conflicts inevitably arise between individuals who feel themselves called to be the vehicles of this personal power. Political society was not only created by war, but it also continues to remain a theatre where conflicts are fought with changing fortunes. Together with the effort to abolish class distinctions, moreover, there gradually comes a demand for equality of rights. As a result, the influence of dominating personalities, even though never eliminated, is more and more subject to changing conditions. Thus regarded, the general course of events is indicated by reference to _two_ phenomena: firstly, by the development of the State and of the judicial system, and, secondly, by the transformations which the character of the hero undergoes in the course of history. The first of these phenomena will presently be discussed in some detail; the second, which puts its stamp upon the particular periods of history in question, consists in the gradual displacement of the warrior-hero by the hero of peace. Even legend indicates that this is the sequence of the qualities that are supremely prized in personality. Thus, in the legend of the kings of Rome, the warlike Romulus, founder of the city, is followed by Numa Pompilius, the organizer of religious cult, who is succeeded in due time by the secular lawgiver, Servius Tullius. The warrior-hero appears first; he suggests the origin of political society in warfare. The founder of deity cults is his immediate successor. The lawgiver, or the political hero in the true sense of the word, stands at the zenith of the age. The warrior initiates, whereas the legislator completes the organization of society. Then commences the age of citizenship, which no longer entertains a hero-ideal as such but, instead, prizes civic virtues. On this plane of culture, the general demands of political life and of cult are augmented by the particular duties which grow out of the position which the individual occupies within society. The position itself is conditioned primarily by the rise of _differences of vocation._

6. THE DIFFERENTIATION OF VOCATIONS.

The above discussion will already have indicated the general significance of the differentiation of vocations in the development of political society. While the origin of classes is coincident with the rise of the State, separate vocations appear only at its zenith. At first there were no distinctions of vocation. The pursuits of war and politics were common to all free men; and, while admitting of class distinctions, they allowed no vocational differences. The priesthood alone represented a class which followed a specific vocation, while also engaging in other occupations, particularly in politics. The earliest forms of specialized vocations were foreshadowed even in the totemic age. In the heroic period, they merely adapt themselves to the new social order resulting from the rise of a ruling class and the consequent class distinctions. Under the influence of deity cults, moreover, the social position of the priesthood changes, as do also its vocational practices. The transformations in cult are an important factor in elevating the class and the profession concerned in its administration, securing for them a more or less important, and in some cases a dominant, influence upon political life. In contrast with this, all forms of human labour not connected with politics and warfare are _degraded_. This results in occupational differences, which are henceforth closely bound up with class distinctions. The depreciation of which we speak, however, is not of sudden occurrence, nor does it appear everywhere to the same extent. The conditions that give rise to political society also involve a participation in the pursuits of politics and warfare on the part of the freeman, who, as an agriculturist, breeds his own domestic animals and guides his plough over the fields. Due to these same conditions, moreover, agriculture maintains a respected position even in later times, partly, no doubt, as a result of the fact that the free farmer continues to enjoy the privilege of participating in political and military affairs. Various accessory vocations come to be sundered out from the tasks of the early agriculturist, who, originally, himself manufactured the implements required for his work and was thus the primitive artisan. Political activity and the equally esteemed military vocation come more and more to be given the place of highest honour. The occupation of the farmer and that of the wealth-accumulating merchant, however, are also held in high regard, doubtless because of the growing desire for property. The independent task of the artisan, as well as art--the latter at first scarcely distinguishable from artisanship--are either left to the dependent population and slaves or, after class distinctions are well developed, are given over to the lower class of citizens as occupations of less esteem.

But in the case of vocational distinctions, just as in that of class differentiation, the process of depreciation is succeeded by a tendency toward _equalization_. This is due to a general shift in values. The rhapsodist of Homeric times, though welcomed as a guest by the superior classes, was not himself regarded by them as a companion of equal rank. It is only gradually that the value placed on an art becomes transferred to the artist himself. That this occurs is due in an important measure to the fact that the arts of outstanding significance--gymnastics, poetry, and music--are not practised merely by a specific profession, but are also favourite occupations of the warrior or the statesman in his hours of leisure. The respect accorded the artist is gradually extended to such other arts as already constitute vocational labour; as external culture becomes more refined, even the artisan wins a growing esteem, through his decoration of weapons, implements, and clothing. In the case of the arts that require a particularly high degree of vocational training, it is significant to note that, in spite of the high estimate placed on his product, the artist himself is able to rise but slowly above the plane of the mere artisan. Thus, the measure of esteem accorded to the arts gradually diminishes, according as we pass from those that spring up spontaneously, solely from inner impulse, to those that minister to the satisfaction of needs. The immediate cause for this gradation of values probably lies in the fact that political activity, which here forms the mediating link, is itself of the nature of a free vocation, requiring the exercise particularly of mental capacities. For this reason, however, the regard in which the various occupations are held tends to be equalized according as class distinctions disappear. The latter, however, occurs in proportion as all citizens come to acquire equal privileges in the exercise of political rights. To the majority, indeed, political activity remains but a secondary vocation, being overshadowed by the main occupation, which requires the greater amount of attention. Because of its political character, however, it is the secondary vocation that primarily determines the social position of the individual. The fact that all citizens come to participate in political activity, therefore, even though failing to equalize the esteem in which the various occupations were held, nevertheless caused the disappearance of the distinctions in personal status which occupational differences originally involved.

7. THE ORIGIN OF CITIES.

The differentiation of classes and vocations is conditioned, in a large measure, by a change in the spacial distribution of the population. This change is a result of the rise of political society, and comes to be the outstanding external characteristic of the State as soon as the latter begins to assume definite form. I have in mind the _foundation of cities_. In the totemic age, there were no cities, but at most fair-sized groups of huts or houses, forming villages. These village settlements were all equally independent; they differed at most as regards spacial extent. But the city, in its _original_ form, always exercised control over a smaller or larger stretch of territory, consisting either of separate farms or of villages with the territory belonging to them. As the seat of political power, the city was an infallible indication of the existence of the State. Hence it is that those who discuss the original forms of political society are not infrequently led to regard State and city as identical. Such an identification, however, is not at all justifiable. Even in their beginnings the Greek States and the Roman State were not mere city States; all that may be said is that the political power was centred in the city. This is true, also, of the original city as it existed in the Orient and in the ancient civilizations of Mexico and Peru. The same characteristic distinguishes the early city from the many later sorts of cities that arose in response to the needs of intercourse and trade. The original city was the abode of the political and military leaders of the people who occupied the new territory and thus formed a State. This appears most strikingly in the case of Sparta--the State which preserved most fully the features of an earlier form of social organization. One might almost be inclined to say that the men's club developed by totemic tribal organization was here present in the form of a city of men established within a political order. But even in Athens and in the other Greek States the city was only the seat of the political power, whereas the State embraced the adjacent territory as well. The centre of the city, therefore, was the castle. This constituted the military defence of the State, and was the dwelling of the king or, in republican forms of government, of the highest officials. Connected with the castle was the temple of the guardian deity of the city. The immediate environment of the temple was the meeting-place of those who inhabited the territory protected by the castle and its temple. Here they assembled, partly for trade and partly for deliberative or popular gatherings. The economic and political intercourse which centred about the castle fostered the growth of a larger city, inasmuch as numbers of the rural inhabitants gradually settled down under the close protection of the castle. Directly connected with this development was the separation from agriculture of the occupations of art, handicraft, trade, and eventually of political office. Because of their enormous extent, the great Oriental realms included a number of city centres. Yet even here the original conditions maintained themselves, inasmuch as _one_ of these cities continued to be not only the political seat of the State but also the chief centre of cult. The guardian deity of the leading city was likewise the guardian deity of the State, and, as such, was supreme among the gods. Cult was thus patterned after the political order. This influence of the city upon cult was reflected in temple construction. The totemic age possessed no cities, and it likewise lacked temples. Temples, therefore, are not only indicative of deity cult, whose development is bound up with political society, but they also signalize the existence of cities. The temple itself was characterized by a very rich architecture. In Babylonia it was the mighty tower, in Egypt the pair of obelisks at the entrance, which proclaimed to the surrounding neighbourhood the dwelling-place of the deity and the seat of political power. The two were identical, for it was in the name of the guardian deity of the city that the State was originally governed and that justice was meted out. In Oriental realms, the ruler was the representative of the deity, and the priests were the State officials, as well as the devotees of science and art. Tradition, together with numerous usages preserved in custom and laws, testify to the same original unification of religious and political authority in Greece and Rome. Although the State here became secularized at a comparatively early time, and art and science likewise freed themselves from theocratic dominance, the idea of a guardian deity of the city and State was long maintained. It was this that invested the secularized legal system with a halo of sanctity. If the course of development in Greece and Rome differed from that of the Oriental realms, this may be due, in an important measure, to the fact that they very early broke up into a considerable number of independent city States. Herein, of course, is expressed the character of Indo-Germanic peoples. Even in very ancient times they manifested a disposition to allow free play to the assertion of the individual personality; this differentiates them from the Semitic race, with its strong inclination to hold fast to traditional norms. Hence it is that, while the cult of the various Greek cities remained practically the same, the cities themselves became distinct political communities. The status of the Delphic priesthood, in whom this unity of cult very early found its expression, was therefore naturally reduced to that of an advisory council. In the individual States, the dominance of political interests and the struggle for power, which was heightened by the personal inter-relationships within the narrow circle of the city, deprived the priesthood of all authority except over cult. True, in the case of Rome, the original union of political order and religious cult was firmer and more permanent, due to the fact that _one_ city early gained the supremacy over the other Italian cities and States. And yet, hand in hand with the extension of political dominance, went the adoption of cults that were previously strange. This led to a number of competing priest-associations, none of which could gain the leadership, since all alike were but servants of the political power.

Thus, in spite of considerable diversity as to incidental conditions, city and State were closely bound up with each other in the development of political society. We find no city apart from a State, and it is doubtful whether there was a State without a city as the seat and centre of its political power. But this correlation obtained only during the period of the genesis of States and of the attendant rise of the _original_ city. Once States have come into existence, many other conditions may lead to the establishment of a community which, as regards extent and relative political independence, is of the nature of a city. Such phenomena may be referred to as the _secondary_ foundation of cities; they are possible only on the basis of a previously existing political society. An approximation to original conditions occurs when a victorious State either establishes cities in the conquered provinces, centralizing in them the power over the respective territories, or transforms cities that already exist into political centres. Occurrences of this sort were frequent during the extension of Alexander's world-dominion and at the time of the Roman Empire. The same fact may be observed at a later period, in connection with the occupation of the Italian cities by the Goths and Lombards. The German cities founded during the Middle Ages differ still more widely from the original type. These cities first arose as market centres, and then gradually acquired political privileges. Thus, the process of the original foundation of cities was, as it were, reversed. In the latter case, the castle came first and the market followed; the mediæval city began as a market and reached its completion with the building of a castle. In mediæval times, however, leadership was not originally vested in the city but in rulers who occupied isolated estates scattered here and there throughout the country. Yet these secondary phenomena and their further development do not belong to our present problem of the origin of political society.

8. THE BEGINNINGS OF THE LEGAL SYSTEM.

The social regulations which we have thus far considered find their consummation in the _legal system_. This possesses no content independent of the various social institutions, but merely provides certain norms of action with a social sanction. As a result, these norms are protected against violation or are designated as regulations which, whenever necessary, are defended against violators by the use of external force. Thus, the legal system does not involve the outright creation of a social order. It consists primarily in the singling out, as definite prescriptions, of certain regulations that have already arisen in the course of social life, and that are for the most part already maintained by custom. The enforcement of these regulations is expressly guaranteed by society, and means are established whereby this pledge is to be redeemed. Thus, the most important social institutions--the family, the classes, the vocations, village settlements and cities, and also the relations of property, intercourse, and contract, which these involve--were already in existence before becoming constituent parts of a legal system. Moreover, the advance beyond custom and the settlement of difficulties case by case was not made suddenly or, much less, at the same time in all regions, but came only very gradually. The formulation of laws did not, as a rule, begin in connection with the political community and then pass down to the more restricted groups, ending with the single individual. On the contrary, law began by regulating the intercourse of individuals; later, it acquired authority over family relations, which had remained under the shelter of custom for a relatively long period; last of all, it asserted itself also over the political order. That is to say, the State, which is the social organization from which the legal system took its rise, was the very last institution in connection with which objective legal forms were developed. We may account for this by reference to a factor which played an important rôle from the very outset. After the legal system had once grown up out of custom and had subjected many of the important fields of the latter to its authority, it was able of itself to create regulations, which were thus from the very beginning legal prescriptions. Such primarily legal regulations arose in connection with conditions in which, frequently, the fact that there be some law was of more importance than the precise character of the law. But even in these cases the regulations were always connected with the larger body of law that was rooted in custom. This larger body of law was but supplemented by ordinances that were called into being by temporal and cultural conditions.