by Will Durant
The first element of civilization is labor—tillage, industry, transport and trade. In Egypt and Asia we meet with the oldest known cultivation of the soil,* the oldest irrigation systems, and the first† production of those encouraging beverages without which, apparently, modern civilization could hardly exist—beer and wine and tea. Handicrafts and engineering were as highly developed in Egypt before Moses as in Europe before Voltaire; building with bricks has a history at least as old as Sargon I; the potter’s wheel and the wagon wheel appear first in Elam, linen and glass in Egypt, silk and gunpowder in China. The horse rides out of Central Asia into Mesopotamia, Egypt and Europe; Phoenician vessels circumnavigate Africa before the age of Pericles; the compass comes from China and produces a commercial revolution in Europe. Sumeria shows us the first business contracts, the first credit system, the first use of gold and silver as standards of value; and China first accomplishes the miracle of having paper accepted in place of silver or gold.
The second element of civilization is government—the organization and protection of life and society through the clan and the family, law and the state. The village community appears in India, and the city-state in Sumeria and Assyria. Egypt takes a census, levies an income tax, and maintains internal peace through many centuries with a model minimum of force. Ur-Engur and Hammurabi formulate great codes of law, and Darius organizes, with imperial army and post, one of the best administered empires in the annals of government.
The third element of civilization is morality—customs and manners, conscience and charity; a law built into the spirit, and generating at last that sense of right and wrong, that order and discipline of desire, without which a society disintegrates into individuals, and falls forfeit to some coherent state. Courtesy came out of the ancient courts of Egypt, Mesopotamia and Persia; even today the Far East might teach manners and dignity to the brusque and impatient West. Monogamy appeared in Egypt, and began a long struggle to prove itself and survive in competition with the inequitable but eugenic polygamy of Asia. Out of Egypt came the first cry for social justice; out of Judea the first plea for human brotherhood, the first formulation of the moral consciousness of mankind.
The fourth element of civilization is religion—the use of man’s supernatural beliefs for the consolation of suffering, the elevation of character, and the strengthening of social instincts and order. From Sumeria, Babylonia and Judea the most cherished myths and traditions of Europe were derived; in the soil of the Orient grew the stories of the Creation and the Flood, the Fall and Redemption of man; and out of many mother goddesses came at last “the fairest flower of all poesy,” as Heine called Mary, the Mother of God. Out of Palestine came monotheism, and the fairest songs of love and praise in literature, and the loneliest, lowliest, and most impressive figure in history.
The fifth element in civilization is science—clear seeing, exact recording, impartial testing, and the slow accumulation of a knowledge objective enough to generate prediction and control. Egypt develops arithmetic and geometry, and establishes the calendar; Egyptian priests and physicians practise medicine, explore diseases enematically, perform a hundred varieties of surgical operation, and anticipate something of the Hippocratic oath. Babylonia studies the stars, charts the zodiac, and gives us our division of the month into four weeks, of the clock into twelve hours, of the hour into sixty minutes, of the minute into sixty seconds. India transmits through the Arabs her simple numerals and magical decimals, and teaches Europe the subtleties of hypnotism and the technique of vaccination.
The sixth element of civilization is philosophy—the attempt of man to capture something of that total perspective which in his modest intervals he knows that only Infinity can possess; the brave and hopeless inquiry into the first causes of things, and their final significance; the consideration of truth and beauty, of virtue and justice, of ideal men and states. All this appears in the Orient a little sooner than in Europe: the Egyptians and the Babylonians ponder human nature and destiny, and the Jews write immortal comments on life and death, while Europe tarries in barbarism; the Hindus play with logic and epistemology at least as early as Parmenides and Zeno of Elea; the Upanishads delve into metaphysics, and Buddha propounds a very modern psychology some centuries before Socrates is born. And if India drowns philosophy in religion, and fails to emancipate reason from hope, China resolutely secularizes her thought, and produces, again before Socrates, a thinker whose sober wisdom needs hardly any change to be a guide to our contemporary life, and an inspiration to those who would honorably govern states.
The seventh element of civilization is letters—the transmission of language, the education of youth, the development of writing, the creation of poetry and drama, the stimulus of romance, and the written remembrance of things past. The oldest schools known to us are those of Egypt and Mesopotamia; even the oldest schools of government are Egyptian. Out of Asia, apparently, came writing; out of Egypt the alphabet, paper and ink; out of China, print. The Babylonians seem to have compiled the oldest grammars and dictionaries, and to have collected the first libraries; and it may well be that the universities of India preceded Plato’s Academy. The Assyrians polished chronicles into history, the Egyptians puffed up history into the epic, and the Far East gave to the modern world those delicate forms of poetry that rest all their excellence on subtle insights phrased in a moment’s imagery. Nabonidus and Ashurbanipal, whose relics are exhumed by archeologists, were archeologists; and some of the fables that amuse our children go back to ancient India.
The eighth element of civilization is art—the embellishment of life with pleasing color, rhythm and form. In its simplest aspect—the adornment of the body—we find elegant clothing, exquisite jewelry and scandalous cosmetics in the early ages of Egyptian, Sumerian and Indian civilization. Fine furniture, graceful pottery, and excellent carving in ivory and wood fill the Egyptian tombs. Surely the Greeks must have learned something of their skill in sculpture and architecture, in painting and bas-relief, not only from Asia and Crete, but from the masterpieces that in their day still gleamed in the mirror of the Nile. From Egypt and Mesopotamia Greece took the models for her Doric and Ionic columns; from those same lands came to us not merely the column but the arch, the vault, the clerestory and the dome; and the ziggurats of the ancient Near East have had some share in moulding the architecture of America today. Chinese painting and Japanese prints changed the tone and current of nineteenth century European art; and Chinese porcelain raised a new perfection for Europe to emulate. The sombre splendor of the Gregorian chant goes back age by age to the plaintive songs of exiled Jews gathering timidly in scattered synagogues.
These are some of the elements of civilization, and a part of the legacy of the East to the West.
Nevertheless much was left for the classic world to add to this rich inheritance. Crete would build a civilization almost as ancient as Egypt’s, and would serve as a bridge to bind the cultures of Asia, Africa and Greece. Greece would transform art by seeking not size but perfection; it would marry a feminine delicacy of form and finish to the masculine architecture and statuary of Egypt, and would provide the scene for the greatest age in the history of art. It would apply to all the realms of literature the creative exuberance of the free mind; it would contribute meandering epics, profound tragedies, hilarious comedies and fascinating histories to the store of European letters. It would organize universities, and establish for a brilliant interlude the secular independence of thought; it would develop beyond any precedent the mathematics and astronomy, the physics and medicine, bequeathed it by Egypt and the East; it would originate the sciences of life, and the naturalistic view of man; it would bring philosophy to consciousness and order, and would consider with unaided rationality all the problems of our life; it would emancipate the educated classes from ecclesiasticism and superstition, and would attempt a morality independent of supernatural aid. It would conceive man as a citizen rather than as a subject; it would give him political liberty, civil r
ights, and an unparalleled measure of mental and moral freedom; it would create democracy and invent the individual.
Rome would take over this abounding culture, spread it throughout the Mediterranean world, protect it for half a millennium from barbarian assault, and then transmit it, through Roman literature and the Latin languages, to northern Europe; it would lift woman to a power and splendor, and a mental emancipation, which perhaps she had never known before; it would give Europe a new calendar, and teach it the principles of political organization and social security; it would establish the rights of the individual in an orderly system of laws that would help to hold the continent together through centuries of poverty, chaos and superstition.
Meanwhile the Near East and Egypt would blossom again under the stimulus of Greek and Roman trade and thought. Carthage would revive all the wealth and luxury of Sidon and Tyre; the Talmud would accumulate in the hands of dispersed but loyal Jews; science and philosophy would flourish at Alexandria, and out of the mixture of European and Oriental cultures would come a religion destined in part to destroy, in part to preserve and augment, the civilization of Greece and Rome. Everything was ready to produce the culminating epochs of classical antiquity: Athens under Pericles, Rome under Augustus, and Jerusalem in the age of Herod. The stage was set for the three-fold drama of Plato, Caesar, and Christ.
Glossary*
of foreign terms not immediately defined in the text
Ab initio (L)—from the outset.
Ahankara (H)—consciousness of self.
Amor dei intellectualis (L)—intellectual love of God.
Anna (H)—an (Asiatic) Indian coin worth one-sixteenth of a rupee, or about two cents.
Aperçu (F)—a flash of insight.
Arbiter elegantiarum (L)—arbiter of elegance.
Arcana (L)—secret mysteries.
Arhat (H)—one who has earned Nirvana.
Asana (H)—the third stage of Yoga.
Ashram (a) (H)—a hermitage.
Ashvamedha (H)—the horse sacrifice.
A tergo (L)—from behind.
Bas-relief (F)—low relief; the partial carving of figures upon a background.
Bizarrerie (F)—something strange or queer.
Bodhi (H)—knowledge, illumination.
Bonze (F from J)—a Buddhist monk of the Far East.
Bourgeoisie (F)—literally, the townspeople; the middle classes.
Brahmachari (H)—a young student vowed to chastity.
Breccia (I)—a rock of angular fragments joined with cement.
Buddhi (H)—intellect.
Bushido (J)—the code of honor of the Samurai.
Ca. (circa) (L)—about.
Cela vous abêtira (F)—that will dull your mind.
Chandala (H)—a group of Outcastes.
Charka (H)—a spinning wheel.
Chef-d’œuvre (F)—masterpiece.
Chinoiseries (F)—pieces of Chinese art.
Civitas (L)—city-state.
Condottiere (I)—bandit.
Corvée (F)—forced labor for the state.
Coup d’état (F)—a violent but merely political revolution.
Coup d’œil (F)—a glance of the eye.
Credat qui vult (F)—let who will believe it.
Cuisine (F)—kitchen; cooking.
Daibutsu (J)—Great Buddha; usually applied to the colossi of Buddha.
Daimyo (J)—lord.
De fontibus non disputandum (L)—there is no use disputing about origins.
Dénouement (F)—issue; conclusion.
De rigueur (F)—rigorously required by convention.
Devadasi (H)—literally, a servant of the gods; usually, a temple courtesan in India.
Dharana (H)—the sixth stage of Yoga.
Dharma (H)—duty.
Dhyana (H)—the seventh stage of Yoga.
Djinn (A)—spirits.
Dolce far niente (I)—(it is) sweet to do nothing.
Dramatis personae (L)—persons of the drama.
Dreckapothek (G)—treatment by excrementitious drugs.
En masse (F)—in a mass.
Esprit (F)—spirit.
Ex tempore (L)—on the spur of the moment.
Faïence (F)—richly colored glazed earthenware, named from the Italian town of Faënza, formerly famed for such pottery.
Faux pas (F)—a false step.
Fellaheen (A)—peasants.
Fête des Fous (F)—Feast of Fools.
Fiacre (F)—an open cab.
Flagrante delicto (L)—literally, while the crime is blazing; in the very act.
Flambé (F)—blazed.
Geisha (J)—an educated courtesan.
Genre (F)—class, kind.
Ghat (H)—a mountain-pass; a landing-place; steps leading down to water.
Glaucopis Athene (Gr)—owl-eyed Athene.
Gopuram (H)—gateway.
Gotra (H)—group.
Gunas (H)—active qualities.
Guru (H)—teacher.
Hara-kiri (J)—self-disembowelment.
Here boöpis (Gr)—cow-eyed Here (Juno).
Hetairai (Gr)—the educated courtesans of Greece.
Ibid. (L)—in the same place.
Id. (L)—the same person or author.
Inro (J)—boxes worn at the girdle.
Jenseits von Gut und Böse (G)—beyond good and evil.
Jinricksha (J)—a man-drawn open cab.
Ju jitsu (J)—literally, the soft art; a Japanese method of self-defense without weapons, by a variety of skilful physical artifices.
Junshi (J)—following in death; the suicide of a subordinate to serve his dead lord in the other world.
Jus primæ noctis (L)—the right of (possessing the bride on) the first night.
Kadamba (H)—an Indian flower.
Kakemono (J)—a pictorial or calligraphic hanging.
Karma (H)—deed; the law that every deed receives its reward or punishment in this life or in a reincarnation.
Khaddar (H)—Indian homespun.
Kusha (H)—an Indian grass.
Kutaja (H)—an Indian flower.
Labia minora (L)—the smaller folds of the vulva.
Laissez-faire (F)—literally, let it be; the theory or practice of leaving the economic life of a society free from governmental control.
Lapis lazuli (L)—a stone of rich azure blue.
La politique n’a pas d’entrailles (F)—politics has no bowels (of mercy).
La seule morale (F)—the only morality.
Le chanson de Roland (F)—the Song of Roland.
L’École de l’Extrème Orient—School of the Far East.
Legato (I)—smoothly; without breaks.
Les savants ne sont pas curieux (F)—scholars have no curiosity (Anatole France),
Lex talionis (L)—the law of retaliation.
Lingua franca (L)—a common tongue.
Lohan (C)—one who has earned Nirvana.
Mahatma (H)—great soul.
Manas (H)—mind.
Mandapam (H)—porch.
Mardi Gras (F)—literally, fat Tuesday, the last day of carnival before Mercredi Maigre, Lean (fasting) Wednesday and the beginning of Lent.
Mastaba (A)—an oblong sloping tomb.
Mater dolorosa (L)—the sorrowful Mother.
Mina (L from Gr. from He)—a coin of the ancient Near East, worth (in Babylonia) sixty shekels.
Mise-en scène (F)—the scenic situation.
Moksha (H)—deliverance.
Motif (F)—a characteristic feature or theme.
Mullah (A)—a Moslem scholar.
Muni (H)—saint.
Naga (H)—snake.
Nandi (H)—the benediction introducing a Hindu drama.
Nautch (H)—a Hindu temple dancer.
Netsuke (J)—carved knobs for holding a tassel.
Nishka (H)—a coin often used as an ornament.
Nom de plume (F)—a pen-name.
Nyama (H)—the second stage of Yo
ga.
Odium literarium (L)—a mutual dislike occasionally noticeable among authors.
Objets d’art (L)—art objects.
Pace (L)—with peace; with all respect to.
Pankha (H)—a fan.
Parvenu (F)—one recently arrived at wealth or place.
Passim (L)—here and there.
Pâte (F)—the potter’s vessel in its paste form.
Patesi (S)—the priest-magistrate of an early Mesopotamian state.
Penchant (F)—inclination.
Petite marmite (F)—a small pot.
Pièce de résistance (F)—the main item.
Pishachas (H)—ghosts; goblins.
Plein air (F)—full air; a theory and school of painting which emphasized the representation of scenes in the open air, as against studio painting.
Prakriti (H)—producer.
Pranayama (H)—the fourth stage of Yoga.
Pratyabara (H)—the fifth stage of Yoga.
Protégé (F)—a person protected and aided by another.
Pro tempore (L)—for the time.
Purdah (A)—a screen or curtain; the seclusion of women.
Purusha (H)—person, spirit.
Qui vive (F)—who lives; who goes there?; alert.
Raconteurs (F)—story-tellers.
Raga (H)—a musical motif or melody.
Raja (H)—king; Maharaja—great king.
Raksha (H)—a nocturnal demon.
Ramadan (A)—the ninth month of the Moslem year, during which no food must be taken between sunrise and sunset.
Rapport (F)—intimate relation.
Religieux (F)—members of religious orders.
Rig (H)—a hymn.