Section 2
That dream was but a moment in a man’s
life, whose proper business it seemed was to get food
and kill his fellows and beget after the manner of
all that belongs to the fellowship of the beasts.
About him, hidden from him by the thinnest of veils,
were the untouched sources of Power, whose magnitude
we scarcely do more than suspect even to-day, Power
that could make his every conceivable dream come real.
But the feet of the race were in the way of it, though
he died blindly unknowing.
At last, in the generous levels of
warm river valleys, where food is abundant and life
very easy, the emerging human overcoming his earlier
jealousies, becoming, as necessity persecuted him less
urgently, more social and tolerant and amenable, achieved
a larger community. There began a division of
labour, certain of the older men specialised in knowledge
and direction, a strong man took the fatherly leadership
in war, and priest and king began to develop their
roles in the opening drama of man’s history.
The priest’s solicitude was seed-time and harvest
and fertility, and the king ruled peace and war.
In a hundred river valleys about the warm, temperate
zone of the earth there were already towns and temples,
a score of thousand years ago. They flourished
unrecorded, ignoring the past and unsuspicious of the
future, for as yet writing had still to begin.
Very slowly did man increase his demand
upon the illimitable wealth of Power that offered
itself on every hand to him. He tamed certain
animals, he developed his primordially haphazard agriculture
into a ritual, he added first one metal to his resources
and then another, until he had copper and tin and
iron and lead and gold and silver to supplement his
stone, he hewed and carved wood, made pottery, paddled
down his river until he came to the sea, discovered
the wheel and made the first roads. But his chief
activity for a hundred centuries and more, was the
subjugation of himself and others to larger and larger
societies. The history of man is not simply the
conquest of external power; it is first the conquest
of those distrusts and fiercenesses, that self-concentration
and intensity of animalism, that tie his hands from
taking his inheritance. The ape in us still resents
association. From the dawn of the age of polished
stone to the achievement of the Peace of the World,
man’s dealings were chiefly with himself and
his fellow man, trading, bargaining, law-making, propitiating,
enslaving, conquering, exterminating, and every little
increment in Power, he turned at once and always turns
to the purposes of this confused elaborate struggle
to socialise. To incorporate and comprehend his
fellow men into a community of purpose became the last
and greatest of his instincts. Already before
the last polished phase of the stone age was over
he had become a political animal. He made astonishingly
far-reaching discoveries within himself, first of counting
and then of writing and making records, and with that
his town communities began to stretch out to dominion;
in the valleys of the Nile, the Euphrates, and the
great Chinese rivers, the first empires and the first
written laws had their beginnings. Men specialised
for fighting and rule as soldiers and knights.
Later, as ships grew seaworthy, the Mediterranean which
had been a barrier became a highway, and at last out
of a tangle of pirate polities came the great struggle
of Carthage and Rome. The history of Europe is
the history of the victory and breaking up of the Roman
Empire. Every ascendant monarch in Europe up to
the last, aped Caesar and called himself Kaiser or
Tsar or Imperator or Kasir-i-Hind. Measured by
the duration of human life it is a vast space of time
between that first dynasty in Egypt and the coming
of the aeroplane, but by the scale that looks back
to the makers of the eoliths, it is all of it a story
of yesterday.
Now during this period of two hundred
centuries or more, this period of the warring states,
while men’s minds were chiefly preoccupied by
politics and mutual aggression, their progress in the
acquirement of external Power was slow—rapid
in comparison with the progress of the old stone age,
but slow in comparison with this new age of systematic
discovery in which we live. They did not very
greatly alter the weapons and tactics of warfare,
the methods of agriculture, seamanship, their knowledge
of the habitable globe, or the devices and utensils
of domestic life between the days of the early Egyptians
and the days when Christopher Columbus was a child.
Of course, there were inventions and changes, but
there were also retrogressions; things were found out
and then forgotten again; it was, on the whole, a
progress, but it contained no steps; the peasant life
was the same, there were already priests and lawyers
and town craftsmen and territorial lords and rulers
doctors, wise women, soldiers and sailors in Egypt
and China and Assyria and south-eastern Europe at
the beginning of that period, and they were doing
much the same things and living much the same life
as they were in Europe in A.D. 1500. The English
excavators of the year A.D. 1900 could delve into
the remains of Babylon and Egypt and disinter legal
documents, domestic accounts, and family correspondence
that they could read with the completest sympathy.
There were great religious and moral changes throughout
the period, empires and republics replaced one another,
Italy tried a vast experiment in slavery, and indeed
slavery was tried again and again and failed and failed
and was still to be tested again and rejected again
in the New World; Christianity and Mohammedanism swept
away a thousand more specialised cults, but essentially
these were progressive adaptations of mankind to material
conditions that must have seemed fixed for ever.
The idea of revolutionary changes in the material
conditions of life would have been entirely strange
to human thought through all that time.
Yet the dreamer, the story-teller,
was there still, waiting for his opportunity amidst
the busy preoccupations, the comings and goings, the
wars and processions, the castle building and cathedral
building, the arts and loves, the small diplomacies
and incurable feuds, the crusades and trading journeys
of the middle ages. He no longer speculated with
the untrammelled freedom of the stone-age savage; authoritative
explanations of everything barred his path; but he
speculated with a better brain, sat idle and gazed
at circling stars in the sky and mused upon the coin
and crystal in his hand. Whenever there was a
certain leisure for thought throughout these times,
then men were to be found dissatisfied with the appearances
of things, dissatisfied with the assurances of orthodox
belief, uneasy with a sense of unread symbols in the
world about them, questioning the finality of scholastic
wisdom. Through all the ages of history there
were men to whom this whisper had come of hidden things
about them. They could no longer lead ordinary
lives nor content themselves with the common things
of this world once they had heard this voice.
And mostly they believed not only that all this world
was as it were a painted curtain before things unguessed
at, but that these secrets were Power. Hitherto
Power had come to men by chance, but now there were
these seekers seeking, seeking among rare and curious
and perplexing objects, sometimes finding some odd
utilisable thing, sometimes deceiving themselves with
fancied discovery, sometimes pretending to find.
The world of every day laughed at these eccentric
beings, or found them annoying and ill-treated them,
or was seized with fear and made saints and sorcerers
and warlocks of them, or with covetousness and entertained
them hopefully; but for the greater part heeded them
not at all. Yet they were of the blood of him
who had first dreamt of attacking the mammoth; every
one of them was of his blood and descent; and the
thing they sought, all unwittingly, was the snare that
will some day catch the sun.