If, for the sake of comparison, we first consider the normal individual

as such, we find that he is a perceiving, remembering, associating,

judging, reflecting, reasoning being; that he is subject to certain

feelings, emotions, desires and impulses, prompting him to action;

that his action is more or less deliberative, and, when it finally

occurs, is the result of a set of motives determined by the man’s

character, which in turn is the outcome of his heredity and education

and his general ability to appreciate and reflect the moral ideals

of the social order to which he belongs. If now we study this man

in respect to his mental development, whether from the savage or

the child, we find that the direction of change has been away from

imitative, impulsive action, towards thought, reflection, deliberation.

He continually makes more use of memory and, anticipating the future,

regulates his action in the light of his past experience. This change

from the imitative and impulsive to the reasoning man accompanies the

development of the higher brain centers, particularly of the cerebral

cortex, upon which depend the all-important functions of memory and

association. As an experiment it is quite possible to reduce this

highly developed reasoning being in a single moment to a condition

resembling his primitive state by means of hypnotism. In hypnosis there

is a temporary paralysis or sleep of the higher brain centers, upon

which depends deliberative, rational action, and, the lower (older)

centers alone being active, the subject becomes a mere ideo-motor

machine acting out every suggestion. In various related states of

automatism, where there is any spontaneity at all, the mentality

and morality of the subject are of a lower type and may be called

reversionary in character, owing, no doubt, to the fact that those

brain centers which represent the most recent acquirements of the race

are temporarily out of the circuit.

If again we study the mind of the child, we find that it presents many

points of likeness to the mind of the hypnotic subject and to the mind

of the primitive man. We learn from biology that the child is to some

extent a recapitulation of the life of the race, passing through in his

individual development the stages of race development. Physiologically

speaking, the higher brain centers and the centers for association,

which are late acquirements of the race, are last developed in

the child. We are therefore not surprised to find that the child,

like the savage and the hypnotic subject, is imitative, impulsive,

non-reflective, incapable of much abstract thought, deliberation or

reasoning, and that he acts with a view to immediate rather than remote

ends.

If now we turn to the behavior of the normal adult man in mental

epidemics and crazes of all kinds, from the Crusades to the Massacre

of St. Bartholomew, from the tulip mania in Holland to the Dewey

welcome in New York City, we observe that his behavior is to some

extent similar to that of the hypnotic subject, and the child, and the

primitive man. The general character of mental action in epidemics

is as follows: Men become imitative beings and their actions are

determined by suggestion from the actions of others. Memory and the

association of ideas are inactive, and there is an inability to reason

and an indisposition towards deliberation and calm reflection. Past

experiences are disregarded, remote consequences are not seen and

behavior is impulsive and spasmodic. Feeling is very strong and every

kind of emotion is apt to be exaggerated. Calm observation is also

lacking and mental images may be mistaken for objective reality, as in

the case of the hallucinations that are frequent in these phenomena.

The moral peculiarities of an epidemic are of a similar kind. Under

the influence of a craze, the moral character of a people suffers a

reversion to a primitive type. In times of epidemic waves the moral

standards of the crowd approach those of the savage. We observe

the exhibition of primitive instincts, such as cruelty, revenge

and blood-thirstiness, together with changeableness, fanaticism,

self-sacrifice and enthusiastic devotion to a leader. All these moral

traits were well illustrated in the Revolution crazes in France

and in the persecution of witches in the sixteenth and seventeenth

centuries. Even in our own times a striking example of the primitive

character of the morality of a people under the influence of social

excitement was seen in the battle-cry of our American sailors in the

recent Spanish war, ‘Remember the Maine,’ the ethical motive being a

precipitate impulse to seek revenge. An instance like this can not be

explained upon the theory that it represented the actual individual

morality of the sailors participating in the battles, for it was echoed

and apparently endorsed by the press throughout the country and upon

the platform and even in the pulpit. It is hardly conceivable that

an Englishman of noble birth should openly boast of his joy in being

revenged upon an enemy; yet collective England is wild with delight

when ‘Majuba Hill is avenged!’

We are thus led apparently to the theory that, for some reason not

yet evident, under the influence of social excitement, something

takes place in the brain of the individual not unlike the action of

hypnotism, by which the higher centers representing the more recent

moral and mental acquirements of the race are temporarily paralyzed,

reducing the subject in a greater or less degree to the condition of

the child and of the primitive man. The observation of certain physical

phenomena which often accompany mental epidemics tends to confirm

this theory and at the same time to suggest a possible explanation.

Epidemics of the more extreme kind are apt to be accompanied by great

muscular excitability, varying all the way from mere extreme mobility,

such as shouting, jumping and throwing the arms, to convulsions like

those of epilepsy. The dancing manias of the fourteenth and fifteenth

centuries furnish the best illustrations of this, although these

phenomena did not equal in intensity the frightful physical convulsions

during the religious revivals in Kentucky at the beginning of this

century. The particular character of these muscular movements is

determined by imitation and suggestion. The movements themselves are

no doubt due to congestion and irritation of the motor centers, or

at least to a rapid overflow of nervous discharges at these centers,

an accompaniment of the excessive emotion which attends all mental

epidemics. In such a condition of the nervous system, thought,

reasoning, memory and association can have little place, or, to

express it physiologically, the unusual excitement in the lower

centers of the brain accompanying excessive emotion may not only find

expression in muscular movements, but may also exercise an inhibitory

or paralyzing effect upon the higher centers, resulting in a kind of

hypnotic condition. Neither is it difficult to understand the presence

of this excessive emotion during mental epidemics or during any purely

social movements, when we remember that war itself is the great

original social movement, which even in this age always takes the form

of a mental epidemic called the war spirit. The emotional effect of

the mere physical congregation of a large number of men, the emotion

increasing with the size of the assemblage, is known to all.

As we glance now at a few of the typical mental epidemics of history,

we shall notice the ever-recurring presence of some or all of the

mental and moral traits that I have pointed out. For illustrations

of these phenomena we may turn indifferently to ancient, medieval or

modern history. They abound at every period.

Very good examples may be found in Hecker’s ‘Epidemics of the Middle

Ages.’ In the Crusades, particularly in the Children’s Crusades, we

may observe all the mental, moral and physical peculiarities that

have been mentioned. In the anti-Semitic mania, we see in its history

of criminal horror the dehumanizing effects of the epidemic and the

moral reversion which takes place under the influence of social

excitement. The peculiar physical phenomena which have been referred

to as characterizing epidemic excitement are best illustrated in

the dancing manias of the Middle Ages and in the religious revival.

Although epidemic ‘revivals’ have occurred in all countries, some of

the best illustrations are seen in America in its early history and

to some extent at the present day. At the time of the elder Edwards,

revivals were accompanied by fainting, falling, tremor and numbness.

In the Kentucky revivals the meetings, called camp meetings, were

held in the open air. The interest in them spread in true epidemic

form. At the height of the excitement, as many as 20,000 people, men,

women and children, were gathered in a single camp at one time. Dr.

Davidson, who writes a history of this revival, says that “the laborer

quitted his task, age snatched his crutch, youth forgot his pastime,

the plough was left in the furrow, business of all kinds was suspended,

bold hunters and sober matrons, young men, maidens and little children

flocked to the common center of attraction.” The emotional tension

was very great. A boy perhaps would spring to his feet and begin to

rave, or some over-excited person would utter a piercing shriek, or a

cry of triumph, and this would be the signal for a general hysterical

outbreak, accompanied by many remarkable physical symptoms. Of these

the most common were falling in convulsive spasms, jerking, dancing,

barking like dogs, fainting, crying, singing, praying and cursing.

Sometimes whole companies were seized with uncontrollable laughing

fits, called the holy laugh. At a meeting in East Tennessee, six

hundred began jerking at one time. In many instances sensibility would

be lost and the extremities would be cold, while the face was flushed.

In some places the sufferers were laid out in rows and squares in the

churchyard until they should recover. From a medical point of view we

should call this epidemic chorea, but its more exact physiology I have

already referred to. When closely examined, the phenomena lose a part

at least of their mysterious character. We must remember that religious

emotions are powerful, deep and ancient. The effect, furthermore, is

increased by the general epidemic excitement, by the element of large

and unwonted gatherings of people, by imitation, by the stimulating

music and by the fearfully exciting power of human shrieks and wild

cries and prayers. Such a nervous condition induced in an individual

must have two results: first, the escape of the unusual nervous

excitement in motor channels, giving rise to the choreic movements; and

second, the paralysis of the higher brain centers, resulting in various

hypnotic phenomena and reversionary morality and mentality.

Many of these scenes were repeated in the great revival that swept

New York and the Middle States, beginning in the year 1832. In these

meetings preachers who kept cool and reasoned logically were not

listened to. There was rather a demand for the wild, impetuous,

vociferous, physically impassioned oratory of the rude man. As an

example of reversionary morals in this epidemic, we may notice the fact

mentioned by Albert Rhodes that in response to visions many men put

away their own wives and took others from their neighbors.

From the psychological point of view perhaps the most instructive of

all epidemics is the demonophobia or witchcraft mania which raged from

the end of the fifteenth to the end of the seventeenth centuries. The

savage’s fear of demons and of unseen supernatural agencies lurking in

every forest and moor now took hold of the modern world and turned the

people, not into brutes and devils as we figuratively say, but simply

into the original savages from which they came, whose basal instincts

they still carried in their lower nervous centers, to be brought out

under the influence of a social craze. The ecclesiastical authorities,

both Roman and Protestant, led in this homicidal frenzy, while sedate

judges, learned jurors and wise legislators lent their zealous aid. It

spread in true epidemic form all over the Continent and into England

and Scotland, even to America. Distinguished jurists declared that

ordinary methods of trial should not be used for this offence, for so

difficult is it to bring proof of the crime of witchcraft, that out of

a million of witches not one could be convicted if the usual course

of justice were followed. One contemporary of undoubted authority

wrote that he saw a list of three thousand witches that had been

put to death during the time of the Long Parliament alone. In this

reign of demonophobia the psychological phenomena of the craze are

well illustrated. The exciting cause was a widespread contagious and

epidemic fear. The result was a recrudescence of the barbaric instincts

of cruelty, torture and homicide, accompanied by a loss not merely of

reasoning power, but apparently of common sense, so that intelligent

men seemed to believe that old women blasted the crops in the fields

and the offspring of animals, and raised storms and whirlwinds. The

cruelty characteristic of the savage is again noticed in this case.

In the witchcraft persecutions, the victims were commonly weak women,

particularly the more helpless old and young, while the character of

the inflictions was such as is peculiar to primitive people, viz.,

torture and burning alive. The perfidy of the savage is also noticed,

as in innumerable instances the victims were led to believe that they

would be spared if they made a confession, and were then put to death.

To elude a legal requirement that torture should not be repeated, the

most horrible tortures were ‘continued’ from day to day.

The psychology of crazes is clearly seen in certain of its aspects

in the homicidal manias that have swept over communities or whole

countries at frequent intervals in the world’s history. The homicidal

impulse itself is one of the most primitive and basal of all impulses.

The reason for this is apparent. The history of man has been a history

of warfare and of struggle for existence. It has been man against man,

tribe against tribe, nation against nation. Habits like these are not

quickly unlearned, and reversion to them in times of social disturbance

is not strange. In the massacre of St. Bartholomew we have a typical

instance of the homicidal mania. The necessary conditions were, first,

great emotional excitement caused by religious fanaticism acting as

an inhibitory agent upon the higher brain centers and allowing the

primitive impulses to act unchecked; second, the removal of external

and customary restraints, effected in this case by the royal decree;

and third, the mental effects of imitation and suggestion. These

conditions being all supplied, the French people resolved themselves

speedily into assassins and cut-throats, and enjoyed a homicidal

debauch. Begun in Paris, the massacre spread in true epidemic form

throughout France, until fifteen or twenty thousand people had perished.

These homicidal manias have, of course, been very frequent in history.

The decivilizing influence of the craze is, however, most perfectly

illustrated in the various scenes of the French Revolution. Here the

overturning of the social and religious order itself acted in part

as the unsettling and emotionally exciting cause. The usual results

followed. The effect of social excitement in paralyzing the intellect

was shown in this case in the wholesale and useless destruction of

women and children. Furthermore, this reversion to the manners of the

savage carries with it its appropriate mood. The slaughterers are not

like demons, as we imagine demons to be, but rather like thoughtless

children. There is merriment and much gayety, and there is dancing and

singing around the corpses, and seats are arranged for the ladies, who

are eager to enjoy the spectacle; and finally the victims are made to

pass through a double row of executioners, who carve them into pieces

gradually, so that all can saturate themselves with the sight of the

bloodshed.

Although in some cases wars may be coolly planned by the people’s

leaders for personal or political reasons or for purposes of national

conquest, still they all depend for their successful issue upon the

homicidal impulse in the masses of people. This is called the war

spirit and is always of an epidemic character. It may have any degree

of ferocity or mildness. It has a tendency to be periodic, so that

if it has slumbered for a considerable period a very slight cause is

sufficient to awaken it. A mere boundary line in Venezuela, in which

this country had but a remote interest, was sufficient a few years ago

to excite this war spirit in a milder form, when a curious craze for a

war with Great Britain flowed like a wave across this country.

Any war will furnish instructive material to the student of social

psychology. In the late Spanish-American war, for instance, we all

felt the war spirit which flowed in epidemic form across the country

and engulfed it. The first motive of the war, the altruistic desire

to free an oppressed people, was of the ideal glittering kind, well

fitted to excite the emotions of the masses. A dramatic event further

fans this emotional flame, and at once the aggregate personality of

the nation is in a condition of automatism, where primitive instincts,

such as revenge and lust for the paraphernalia of war, are no longer

checked by the more lately acquired moral principles. Congressmen,

editors, members of peace societies, ministers of the gospel, forget

their long and patient efforts to establish means for settling national

differences by arbitration and join lustily in the war cry, and the

psychologically curious spectacle is presented of a great nation,

priding itself as a leader in the world’s morals, giving to the appeal

of a weaker nation for the arbitration of a dispute the answer of

shot and shell. Although the motive of blood for blood is a moral

motive belonging to a bygone age and in individual ethics has long

been outgrown, yet collectively, under the influence of the war craze,

we revert to it, and it is shamelessly proclaimed from platform and

editorial room and vigorously applauded by the people. We have seen

that cruelty and the persecution of the weak by the strong were among

the reversionary symptoms of the social epidemic in many instances.

We may notice curiously enough a trace of these qualities here, where

the fact that our enemy was a greatly inferior power does not detract

in our eyes from the brilliancy of our victories, though in the ethics

of the individual such a circumstance would put us to shame. In all

this we proceed strictly in accordance with international law, but

international law itself is only international custom and is the

mere expression of the wonted behavior of the aggregate personality,

particularly in times of war. As such it does not represent the highest

ethical development of man, but that lower stage of development to

which he reverts in times of social excitement. From this point of view

it is possible to understand why international ethics is so far behind

individual ethics. Personal disputes were once settled by brute force

as international disputes are now settled. There is no reason to doubt

that the latter will, somewhat later in the history of civilization, be

settled by courts of arbitration and enforced by a system of police as

the former now are.

The considerations now before us show the futility of peace congresses

in that part of their work which contemplates the enforced substitution

of arbitration for war. Peace congresses are not social movements. They

spring from the efforts of individual men, leaders in social reform.

They belong to the upward ethical movements led by individuals, the

slow, painful climbing towards higher moral and intellectual standards.

These congresses may meet and discuss arbitration and perfect an

international program, but they labor in vain, for they forget that

social man has a double personality and that the personality that meets

and deliberates in the peace congress is not the personality that,

under the influence of the war craze, thrills with emotion and acts

from ancient and deep rooted impulses and motives. When the war spirit

sweeps over a country the social personality passes into a condition

not unlike that of hypnosis and is ruled by a different set of moral

principles. It should not be understood from this that peace congresses

are useless. They are a part of an educative system whose influence

in the end will be strong enough to react upon the secondary social

personality and determine its behavior.

Among crazes of a different kind, we may notice financial crazes as

an interesting type, falling under the same laws as those mentioned.

Both in panics and in speculative manias we observe again a species

of hypnotization. In the case of the latter the ordinary business

shrewdness which characterizes the dealings of the individual in a

normal state and which depends upon the activity of late developed

association tracts in the brain, is to a large extent lost. The memory

is impaired and what in general we may call prudence is lacking.

The psychology of the speculative mania is very simple. There is first,

greed, furnishing the necessary emotional excitement; then imitation;

then precipitate, unreasoning action. In the panic, the psychological

sequence is the same, except that fear takes the place of greed. The

stampede among animals may be taken as the type of all panics. It is a

reflex phenomenon consisting merely of contagious fear and precipitate,

unintelligent flight. Fear and flight constitute a most primitive form

of mental action, equalled in primitive character only by that other

form whose survival we have seen illustrated in wars and homicidal

manias, viz., anger and combat. Although the individual has long

outgrown these simple reflexes, yet in social excitement he reverts to

them. The recrudescence of the first of these two forms is seen in the

case of panics in theatres and burning buildings, where social fear is

followed by unintelligent flight, there being a temporary paralysis

of reason, prudence, the power of choosing means to ends, respect for

women and consideration for the weak and feeble.

The limits of this paper permit me only to refer to other forms of the

craze illustrating the same laws. In fads and fashions of all kinds,

the behavior of the social personality is different only in degree

from that already described in the more serious epidemics. The law

of imitation is the same, but there is less excitement and emotional

disturbance and consequently a lesser paralysis of the higher mental

faculties and a lesser return to barbaric impulses. Whereas the others

may be called forms of social paranoia, these may be called forms of

social monomania. A single idea fills the public mind, and as a result

this idea is unduly exalted as to its importance and worth. The higher

mental powers are paralyzed only so far as that there is a perverted

judgment as to the relative importance of things and consequently

a more or less distorted view of the world and its values. Perhaps

the simplest form of this craze is seen in the epidemic character of

children’s games. At different times of the season different games

completely fill the social consciousness of the child-world, so

that for the moment there is no interest in any other game. New and

interesting sports, such, for instance, as golf, often fill the social

adult consciousness in the same way. Then there are social and literary

fads, crazes in musical airs, fashions in dress, furniture, houses and

carriages, without number. Crazes of all kinds have found a prolific

soil in America. The American mind is highly suggestible. One fad after

another rages over the country and in some cases reduces the aggregate

mind to a condition of idiocy. The Dewey craze in New York City last

year is an illustration of this. Nothing but a sort of hypnotic

distortion of intellectual vision could cause grown men to stand in

line for an hour in order that they might sit for an instant in the

chair in which the hero sat during the review, or to fight for shreds

of the flags and awnings that decorated the platform.

Sporadic social reform movements take the form of crazes and

illustrate the same laws. One recalls the Woman’s Crusade in 1873,

the result not of a rational plan but of imitation, and the Granger

movement and the Farmers’ Alliance and the greenback craze and the

silver craze and many others.

The Popular Science Monthly, July, 1900 Vol. 57, May, 1900 to October, 1900 · 第 6 / 12 段