be one of the simplest and briefest of standard works.  But if some cows thought it wicked to eat long grass and persecuted all who did so; if the cow with the crumpled horn were worshipped by some cows and gored to death by others; if cows began to have obvious moral preferences over and above a desire for grass, then cows would begin to have a history.  They would also begin to have a highly unpleasant time, which is perhaps the same thing.

The economic motive is not merely not inside all history; it is actually outside all history.  It belongs to Biology or the Science of Life; that is, it concerns things like cows, that are not so very much alive.  Men are far too much alive to get into the science of anything; for them we have made the art of history.  To say that human actions have depended on economic support is like saying that they have depended on having two legs.  It accounts for action, but not for such varied action; it is a condition, but not a motive; it is too universal to be useful.  Certainly a soldier wins the Victoria Cross on two legs; he also runs away on two legs.  But if our object is to discover whether he will become a V.C. or a coward the most careful inspection of his legs will yield us little or no information.  In the same way a man will want food if he is a dreamy romantic tramp, and will want food if he is a toiling and sweating millionaire.  A man must be supported on food as he must be supported on legs.  But cows (who have no history) are not only furnished more generously in the matter of legs, but can see their food on a much grander and more imaginative scale.  A cow can lift up her eyes to the hills and see uplands and peaks of pure food.  Yet we never see the horizon broken by crags of cake or happy hills of cheese.

So far the cow (who has no history) seems to have every other advantage.  But history—­the whole point of history—­precisely is that some two legged soldiers ran away while others, of similar anatomical structure, did not.  The whole point of history precisely is:  some people (like poets and tramps) chance getting money by disregarding it, while others (such as millionaires) will absolutely lose money for the fun of bothering about it.  There would be no history if there were only economic history.  All the historical events have been due to the twists and turns given to the economic instinct by forces that were not economic.  For instance, this theory traces the French war of Edward III to a quarrel about the French wines.  Any one who has even smelt the Middle Ages must feel fifty answers spring to his lips; but in this cause one will suffice.  There would have been no such war, then, if we all drank water like cows.  But when one is a man one enters the world of historic choice.  The act of drinking wine is one that requires explanation.  So is the act of not drinking wine.

But the capitalist can get much more fun out of the doctrine.