So much is commonplace. Exactly what causes the
racial elements of a nation, with all their varying
properties, to flash suddenly (as it seems) into the
splendid incandescence of an Heroic Age, and thence
to shift again into a comparatively rigid and perhaps
comparatively lustreless civilization—this
difficult matter has been very nicely investigated
of late, and to interesting, though not decided, result.
But I may not concern myself with this; nor even with
the detailed characteristics, alleged or ascertained,
of the Heroic Age of nations. It is enough for
the purpose of this book that the name “Heroic
Age” is a good one for this stage of the business;
it is obviously, and on the whole rightly, descriptive.
For the stage displays the first vigorous expression,
as the natural thing and without conspicuous restraint,
of private individuality. In savagery, thought,
sentiment, religion and social organization may be
exceedingly complicated, full of the most subtle and
strange relationships; but they exist as complete and
determined wholes, each part absolutely bound
up with the rest. Analysis has never come near
them. The savage is blinded to the glaring incongruities
of his tribal ideas not so much by habit or reverence;
it is simply that the mere possibility of such a thing
as analysis has never occurred to him. He thinks,
he feels, he lives, all in a whole. Each person
is the tribe in little. This may make everyone
an astoundingly complex character; but it makes strong
individuality impossible in savagery, since everyone
accepts the same elaborate unanalysed whole of tribal
existence. That existence, indeed, would find
in the assertion of private individuality a serious
danger; and tribal organization guards against this
so efficiently that it is doubtless impossible, so
long as there is no interruption from outside.
In some obscure manner, however, savage existence
has been constantly interrupted; and it seems as if
the long-repressed forces of individuality then burst
out into exaggerated vehemence; for the result (if
it is not slavery) is, that a people passes from its
savage to its heroic age, on its way to some permanence
of civilization. It must always have taken a
good deal to break up the rigidity of savage society.
It might be the shock of enforced mixture with a totally
alien race, the two kinds of blood, full of independent
vigour, compelled to flow together;[1] or it might
be the migration, due to economic stress, from one
tract of country to which the tribal existence was
perfectly adapted to another for which it was quite
unsuited, with the added necessity of conquering the
peoples found in possession. Whatever the cause
may have been, the result is obvious: a sudden
liberation, a delighted expansion, of numerous private
individualities.