The Child
in
Human Progress

By
George Henry Payne

With a Foreword by
A. Jacobi, M.D., LL.D.

With 40 Illustrations

G. P. Putnam’s Sons
New York and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1916

Copyright, 1916
BY
GEORGE HENRY PAYNE

The Knickerbocker Press, New York

FOREWORD

THIS is a new sort of book, and unique. That is why I look upon the permission to write a brief preface for it as a rare privilege. Writings on children are frequent. When, in 1875, I contributed, for Karl Gerhardt’s immense Handbuch, my Hygiene of the Child, I quoted seven hundred treatises or pamphlets on that subject. There are now at least seven thousand of the kind, and the number of text-books on the diseases of children and infants do no longer lead a pardonable, rarely a laudable, existence. A few monographs on special subjects, or modern publications, as Erich Wulffen’s The Child: His Nature and Degeneration (Berlin, 1913), or the two large anthropological volumes by H. Ploss, The Child in the Customs and Morals of Nations (third edition by B. Renz, 1911), are praiseworthy examples of useful books. But while these are instructive they do not rouse historical interest.

Indeed, the history of the child has been grossly neglected. The epoch-making works of Rosenstein, Charles West, Rilliet and Barthez, and Karl Gerhardt contain no history. The work of Puschmann (Neuberger and Pagel) fills twenty pages with the history of the child in a text of three thousand pages relating to the history of medicine. Altogether our country has been disrespectful to its best possessions, viz., the children. There was until a few decades ago not even a professional teaching of the children’s diseases in our medical schools. A regular chair was established in 1860 (New York Medical College),—it lasted for a few years only. The second was in 1898 (Harvard). There were few child’s hospitals or wards in hospitals until a few years ago, even in the largest cities. Society, law, humanitarianism did not mind children. It is only a few months that an official publication in our democratic country carried the title; “Is There a Need of a Child Labour Law?” and our civilization was humbled by medical discussion of the advisability of killing the deformed or unpromising new-born. It seems to take a long time before this republic of ours begins to work out of the ruts of semi-barbarism. And now, at last, there is a book to supply our wants.

Laymen have advanced ahead of the medical profession. Christ and the Stoics, the clergy and the public opinion of the Crusades and the Christian sentiments of the Mediæval Church, aye, the great slaughterer and revolutionary reformer, Napoleon, have called the children under their protection and benefactions.

A vast amount of study relating to primary populaces and nations in gradual development was required to learn the history of the child. Without the history of the child there cannot be a scientific knowledge of the thousands of years of child life. Nobody has given it until the author of this book afforded us the wealth of his vast studies. This book furnishes what no other work presents to us. I know of none which acquaints us with the position of the child in his social, political, and humanitarian existence in all nations and in all eras. Adults and adult life have long been served by the endeavours of historians, philosophers, and psychologists. We do not believe in completeness of our knowledge unless all that have been perfected. Medical men do not believe in possessing a scientific grasp of any of their subjects without an embryological basis. Statesmen, aye, even politicians, of the better class, insist upon an ample knowledge of the history of their countries, their institutions, and their laws. That is how the last years of our medical and professional life in this country have developed amongst us physicians the taste for history and such books as Fielding Garrison has been able to prepare for us within the last year.

When I said the book before us was unique, I meant to say that it is a special monograph of the life through thousands of years of slow physical, domestic, economic, social existence of the child. No historian, no medical practitioner or teacher, surely no existing pediatrist will be without it.

A. Jacobi.

New York City, December 21, 1915.

PREFACE

THE introduction of Dr. Jacobi has saved the author from the onerous task, ofttimes a graceless one, of writing extended prefatory remarks. It was in the course of some researches into the origin of the Child Protection movement in this country that I discovered how little attention had been paid to the historical aspect of this important question. This book represents really a process of elimination, behind which were many fascinating byways, alluring blind alleys, and seeming countless beckoning theories. Toward the last, for a person with human instinct writing on a humane subject, it was hard not to tilt. In the main, however, the author believes that he has hewed to the line.

The author is indebted for many courtesies to the officials of the New York Public Library, likewise to the Congressional Library at Washington, the British Museum at London, and the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris. His thanks are due also to Dr. C. C. Williamson, formerly Chief of the Economics Division of the New York Public Library, who took a deep and serious interest in the work; to Professor Richard Gottheil of Columbia, for many helpful suggestions in connection with the Semitics studies; to Professor Hiram Bingham of Yale, for some helpful notes on the Incas; to Mr. A. S. Freidus, Chief of the Jewish Division of the New York Public Library; to Professor Adolf Deissmann, of the University of Berlin; to Mr. Elbridge T. Gerry, whose library provided a wealth of material; to the late Thomas D. Walsh, Superintendent of the New York S. P. C. C., a humanitarian of the first water; to Mr. Jesse B. Jackson, Mr. W. J. Yerby, Mr. Charles H. Allbrecht, and Mr. E. A. Wakefield, all of the American Consular Service; to Mr. J. William Davis, for supervision of the Bibliography; to Mr. Gabriel Schlesinger, for assistance in reading the proofs; and, above all, to Mr. Robert E. MacAlarney, of Columbia University, to whose sustaining criticism and deep personal interest the author owes more than can be here set down.

George Henry Payne.

Kingsbridge, New York
    January, 1916

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

History of the Child

CHAPTER I

MATERNAL AFFECTION THE BEGINNING OF HUMAN ALTRUISM—SYMPATHY AND PARENTAL LOVE THE BASIS OF OTHER VIRTUES—THE WEAKEST SACRIFICED IN ALL PRIMITIVE SOCIETY—NEGLECTED CHAPTERS IN THE HISTORY OF THE ATTITUDE OF SOCIETY TOWARD CHILDREN.

IF it were possible to postulate the first definite concept of the first family that crossed the vague and age-consuming frontier between animality and humanity, it would be safe to say that this primitive and almost animal mind would reach for an approximation, on the part of the male, to the maternal affection.

In the gathering of food and the making of protective war, many animals are the rivals in instinct and intelligence of primitive man. Continued development in that regard might have produced a race of men “formidable among animals through sheer force of sharp-wittedness,” but not homo sapiens. In the passage from animality to humanity, there was not only mental evolution, but moral, and the developing mind would naturally exercise itself for days and years, and perhaps for long periods around that one emotion—the love of the female for its young—an emotion he was incapable of understanding, but the outward manifestations of which he would be bound to imitate.

Whether man was led to an understanding of the maternal affections by the “sensuous aspects of the newly-born progeny” appealing to man himself,1 or through pity and sympathy, as Spencer suggests, or still more through imitation of the maternal delight, he undoubtedly would be led to a higher mental plane as he slowly came to understand that the maternal affection was not self-gratifying in the sense that marked the entire gamut of his own emotions up to that time.

Even in recent times tribes have been found so low in the social scale that coition and child-birth have been assumed to have no relation, the latter phenomenon being explained by ascribing to certain trees the power to make women fructile. In a society as low in mentality as this, it would be easy to conceive that the woman’s unselfishness—her lack of the self-gratifying impulse—in protecting, nursing, and rearing a burden superimposed on her with no pleasurable antecedents, would be even more amazing than it would be to the male living in a state sufficiently advanced to understand the reproductive function.

In either state of society, there then begins in the human consciousness a disturbance “which is significant of something having another value than that of mere pleasure, and which is pregnant with the promise of another than the merely sensuous or merely intellectual life.”2 The words quoted are Prof. Ladd’s, discussing the philosophy of conduct of civilized man—but here, even in the primitive man, the rule applies—the moral idea is born, legitimately enough, out of the altruistic maternal affection.

Not infrequently one comes across such expressions as “when man became civilized,” starting always the baffling inquiry—what civilized man? The mystery of life, as Bergson suggests, may be its solution, for in the acquired tendency of looking on the world as containing one emotion at least that was not purely self-gratifying, man was preparing himself for the virtues that followed in the wake of his own first altruistic concept. The loyalty without which there could be no sociality has, on the one hand, a reasoned basis—the selfish and protecting one that may also explain the gregariousness of animals—but it differs from gregariousness by subordinating to the good of another one’s own pleasure, just as the mother subordinates her wishes to the pleasure and good of the infant. It is, in fact, the developed emotion that the male acquires through imitation and sympathy from the female, for, “when a tendency splits up in the course of its development, each of the special tendencies which thus arise, tries to preserve and develop everything in the primitive tendency that is not incompatible with the work for which it is specialized.”3

Back of this sociological “leap” is Nature’s long preparation. “The stability of animal marriage,” says Wundt,4 “seems in general to be proportional to affection for the young,” and yet the primitive instincts are sometimes so powerful that even among those animals in whom the maternal instinct is strongly developed, they will, even after facing great danger for their young, desert them when the time comes to migrate. This Darwin says is true of swallows, house martins, and swifts.5

But even in the lowest animals the “chief source of altrusim” is the family group as it revolves round the care of the young,6 while with the increase in the representative capacity that differentiates man from the brute, and the prolongation of the period of human infancy, there is born real altruism, the germ of morality, through the “knitting together of permanent relations between mother and infant, and the approximation toward steady relations on the part of the male parent.”

How then does it happen that an instinct that has been productive of so much for humanity, an instinct that has given birth to most of those virtues that mark civilized from savage man,7 served apparently so little as a safeguard for the offspring that generated the moral evolution? Studying the cross currents and the ever-present struggle for existence of the various nations that worked out of barbarism to civilization, we see that after all it is by and through the very virtues, tenderness, sympathy, and humanity, that were first aroused by the helpless offspring, that the infant comes in turn to be protected, though the path is frequently a tortuous one.

The society that was able to exist in primitive times was always the one that sacrificed the individual,8 and the infant was naturally low in the scale of value. That very sacrifice of the weakest, stratified into a national characteristic, produced in the greatest civilization of ancient times, a narrow and egoistical morality, with little conception of what we call humanity. “No Greek ever attained the sublimity of such a point of view,” says George Henry Lewes.9

In this, the “century of the child,” there is a great conception of humanity, and even of children’s rights. Little attempt, however, has been made to trace in consecutive and co-ordinate fashion the development among races and nations of the progress of the human race in its attitude toward children. We who are so much interested in the betterment of the race and who are so much moved by humanitarian considerations that almost the first consideration of the state is to provide for the children, have reached this point of view only after a long struggle against blind ignorance and reckless selfishness.

The fact that less than fifty years have passed since we began a definite policy concerning the rights of children shows how rapidly the human race moves. The race may be, let us say, something like 240,000 years old; of that time civilized man—accepting the most generous figures on Egyptian and Mesopotamian civilization—has existed only 10,000 years, or 1/240 of the life of the human species.

Humanized man has existed not more than a few hundred years, and it is within only fifty years that the race has been concerned with the protection of the child. How deeply ingrained are the habits of barbarity and darkness, may be seen from the fact that cannibalism broke out in Japan not more than a hundred years ago.

Unquestionably, this is the century of the child. Undoubtedly, more serious thought is being given in the present generation to the subject than has ever been given before in the entire history of the world. More has been written about the child in the last fifty years than had been written in the world in all civilized times up to the beginning of this half-century. In order to appreciate this statement one must remember that the best friends of the child—Jesus, the Jewish Prophets, and Mohammed—lived centuries before the human theories that they preached had really a living existence.

In this connection, it is germane to state that the theory that philosophy and religion go hand in hand with humanity, is shattered by the fact that Plato, Aristotle, Confucius, and Gautama affected, apparently, not a single jot, the ancient attitude of insufferance toward the undesired children.

There has ever been, on the question of his children, a struggle between man and nature. Endowed with the possibilities of a large offspring man has fought the burdens that nature has thrust upon him. On first view, it seems that parental affection never develops to great degree unless the economic conditions are favourable; yet the various artifices and “laws” used by tribes to get rid of children would show that parental affection kept struggling with the inclinations of men. In other words, if we find, as we do, female children sacrificed in one place because they are useless, and all first-born children sacrificed in another place because the gods must be propitiated, it is evident that parental affection (as represented by the women) was strong enough to force the male sovereigns to invent plausible excuses and taboos in order to have the women give up their offspring.

Considering all that is being done, said, and written on the subject of the child and the relation of the state and citizen toward the child, it would seem safe to assume that there would be some interest in the attitude of our predecessors toward children.

From the regulation of Romulus, as set forth by Dionysius Halicarnassus, to the story of Mary Ellen, as set forth by a settlement worker on the East Side of New York City, is a far cry, but the progress from the first to the second is steady. The Roman General, Agathocles, who made as a part of the terms of peace with the Carthaginians an agreement on the part of that branch of the Semitic race that they would cease to sacrifice children, was a legitimate sociological progenitor of the representative of the arm of the law that stops a drunken father from beating his child and creates a Children’s Court where the child gets gentleness with justice, not contamination and corruption.