CHAPTER III

_PHYSIOLOGICAL VARIATION IN THE ETHNIC MIND_

Thus furnished, as we have seen in the last chapter, with a common stock of faculties and desires, the primitive men set out from their unknown birthplace, to conquer the world. They journeyed east, north, south, and west, into foreign fields and under alien skies. Seized in the iron grasp of novel environment, each band must adapt itself to the new conditions or perish; for in their ignorance they knew not to wrest the power from Nature and make her their slave. They must bow and yield to her commands under penalty of death.

Compelled by external forces, they changed the hue of their skin and the shade of their hair; they grew tall of stature or sunk to pygmies; their skulls altered in shape, and their long bones rounded, or else flattened like those of apes.

Not less surprising were the alterations in their minds. Some felt no desire for fixed abodes, and ever wandered, while others sowed fields and built cities; some remained in small, ungoverned bands, while others founded great empires and enacted iron codes; some were satisfied to compel the Unknown by magical rites, while others sought the wisdom of God and the secrets of Nature.

These variations, however, meant Progress; for repetition is not progress, and it is only by ceaseless change and endless experiment that one can find out the best. The separation of man into families and tribes and peoples was, in fact, a necessary condition to his improvement as a species. From the seeming chaos of changing forms the highest type emerged, as, in Greek myth, from the surging seas rose the perfect form of Aphrodite Anadyomene.

The chaos is indeed but seeming. The differences among men are the results of physiological processes, proceeding in definite directions under fixed laws, and adjusted so that they bring about calculable results. Let us turn to the examination of these processes, in their universal expressions operative everywhere, as well in the psychical as the physical world.

Psychical as well as physical; for the new conditions which transformed the bodies of the primitive horde left their impress also on the minds of its members, not erasing any trait which made them Man, but bringing them into closer likeness between themselves, and by that act into sharper contrast to their neighbours. The varied practical needs of life fostered their peculiarities, and created a similarity of feelings and purposes, and a community of knowledge in each band. This acted as a sort of intellectual mother-water in which each individual mind of the band crystallised into the same shape, readily accepted the beliefs, imbibed the same prejudices, looked at the world through the same spectacles.

We may well believe that it was not long before contests arose between the primitive hordes. We are told, indeed, by a venerable authority that they began between the first two brothers. Then these diversities of body and mind decided the conflict. The stronger slew the weaker or drove them from the field; unless, indeed, by craft or superior skill the weaker foiled the stronger, as, so endowed, in the long run they surely would. Thus the great law of Natural Selection, of the destruction of the less fit, exercised its sway to preserve that horde which, on the whole, was better adapted for preservation and gave it power over the land.

In the species Man the exemplification of this great law is, as I have intimated, essentially psychical, and its application is upon masses, upon ethnic groups. History, the story of man’s progress, deals only with these, not with individuals.

Progressive ethnic mental variation is therefore the theme for our immediate consideration, and especially as it is displayed in the processes of natural selection and adaptation. This is the physiology of ethnic psychology, the history of its normal progress to more specialised powers and higher types.

I cannot go amiss if I present it with a rather close adherence to the recognised method of natural science; for the impression is constantly gaining ground that the psychical life of Man follows the same laws as does his physical; or, to express the thought more accurately, that the one is the reflex of the other, for we can read both with equal correctness in terms of thought or terms of extension.

Such changes may take place in several directions: as in abolishing organs no longer useful; in reducing others which are diminishing in value; in strengthening those which are of immediate utility; and, by correlation, maintaining those relations of parts on which the “type” depends.

These changes are not “purposive”; they do not aim toward a future type, though they may result in one. Such a type may be more decadent than its antecedent, and be the prelude to extinction, under this adamantine law of destruction; but if its variations have been physiological and adaptive, they will confer upon it the blessing of life, the gift of length of days.

Those changes which strengthen an organ or structure, or tend to develop and preserve new and useful variations are called “progressive”; those which tend to draw individual variation back to the current type or to reduce certain structures or functions are called “regressive” variations.

It would seem at first sight that such processes must tend in opposite directions—the one beneficial, the other injurious. In fact, both are preservative; but by contrasted physiological processes.

Progressive changes begin in the individual and pass by inheritance into the stock, when they have proved beneficial to it. They continue in action so long as they are useful. When their utility ceases, the energy of the economy is expended elsewhere, on other structures or faculties. The degeneration thus produced is “compensatory.” It does not detract from but adds to the general viability of the organism.

What is most marvellous in this process is that the part or power rarely wholly disappears, no matter how long it has been useless. The pineal gland in the human brain is the remains of a third eye with which our ancestors looked out from the top of their heads when they were Silurian fishes; and the appendix vermiformis was an annex to their stomachs when they were herbaceous ruminants!

So it is in psychical anthropology. A department of it, Folklore, is taken up with such survivals, and strange are its revelations! Our Christmas dinner is a reminiscence of a cannibal feast at the winter solstice. The dyed Easter egg is a relic of a myth of the dawn older than the Pyramids.

In strictly scientific language evolution is not always synonymous with progress. It means simply change or transformation within the limits of physiological laws—that is, that such changes tend, on the whole, to the preservation of the individual or do not conflict with it.

Life is the criterion of evolution. But the application of this standard is not always easy. The most salient variation is not necessarily the most important. Again, a variation admirably suited to a given mode of existence may be unfriendly to development by unfitting the stock for later and inevitable changes of environment.

In the psychical ethnic life there are, however, a limited number of characteristics, the symmetrical development of which cannot fail to bring out all the latent powers of the group in the struggle for its independent existence; and, conversely, their neglect or faulty cultivation will surely pave the way to debility and disappearance. They are the primary factors of progressive variation in ethnic psychology.

The list of them is as follows:

1—Remembrance. 2—Industry. 3—Inventiveness. 4—Adaptability. 5—Receptiveness. 6—Forethought.

They are all essential to ethnic progress; though the special cultivation of one or the other must be dictated by the circumstances. The development must be in relation to the inner (mental) and outer (physical) demands upon the group, if it is to make the best of its life. They are the physiological elements of collective mental growth, standing in relation to it as do proper food, exercise, cleanliness, and the other hygienic methods to bodily health and strength.

1. _Remembrance._—Knowledge is of no avail unless it is remembered. Experience may become prophetic, but if its words are forgotten, of what use is its wisdom? Hence the rudest savages seek means to strengthen their recollection of events and ideas. The Australian has his message stick, the Peruvian his knotted string (_quipu_), the Chippeway his _meday_ club,—all to help preserve tradition, ritual, knowledge, in some form.

Whatever technical process was devised to shape a war club, or to minister to the sense of beauty by adornment, whatever laws were framed to regulate the clan, whatever secrets were learned from nature, became of value to the group only in so far as the faculty of memory and the means of remembrance were cultivated.

I need not refer to the supreme treasure of written records, the national literatures of the world; but it is worth noting that just to the extent that a nation cherishes its own history, lives in its past deeds, drinks from its own fonts of thought, does it develop its vitality and independence.

Tradition and instruction in what the group has already gained is the first condition of further advance. If the future is to rest on a secure foundation, it must be built on the experience of the past. Plato estimated the alphabet none too highly when he called it a gift of the gods. The dream of immortality in name is a mighty stimulus to effort. What were that fame worth that perished with our flesh?

Under this head also comes what we broadly call Education, that which distributes to the new generation the garnered grain and treasured pearls of hundreds of older generations; which places in the hands of the young the tools of thought, the training in vocations, the pride in the noble achievements of the past, the acquaintance with their own powers and the means of increasing them, the precepts of justice, of love, and of truth, and the inspiration of grand ideals of life and work.

No past is too remote to be destitute of practical value to the present. No truth is too trivial to be regarded. Knowledge has long and wisely been esteemed the synonym of power. Art, science, the whole fabric of culture, are accumulations, memories, of millenniums of labour, of whose results all has been lost except that which has been recollected.

2. _Industry._—The secret of all improvement in human life is the conscious effort to improve. Idleness is the chief obstacle to advancement. Disuse of brain-function degenerates the tissues faster than misuse. Labour, work, activity, exercise,—these are the only means to strengthen the powers we have and insure their survival.

Not all effort is equally beneficial. It may be honestly intended, but misdirected, and lead to perdition; it may be the tread-mill labour which reduces the man to a machine, and blunts and dulls his soul; it may be, as with those who “work hard at play,” consumed in frivolous pastimes and trivial objects.

The true aim of all effort, that aim which most contributes to progress, is the conquest of the environment, the subjection of it to the enlightened reason and the individual will. “The one process of human evolution,” says a thoughtful writer, “is the passage from a merely mechanical to a rational life.”

“Adaptation to environment” belongs to plant life and brute life. Man at his best aims at the nobler task of moulding the environment to his own will and wishes. He is not its slave, but its master. Does arctic cold threaten to freeze the blood in his veins? He builds a hut and lights a lamp; and the summer zephyr is not milder than the air he breathes. Does the equatorial sun dart its fatal rays from the zenith? He spreads an umbrella and dons a helmet, and is as cool as if under orchard shades of temperate zones.

Reason-directed, unflagging activity,—this is the one indispensable and all-sufficient security for the indefinite progress of individual or group. The definition of “genius,” said Goethe, “is the willingness to labour unremittingly.” The willingness presupposes the will, and he of the indomitable will soon becomes master of his purpose.

This trait has long been familiar as a criterion in ethnic psychology. Professor Klemm in his history of human culture, written half a century ago, divided the tribes and nations of humanity into those who have been “passive” and those who have been “active.” He maintained that the love of labour is the simple and sufficient measure for the capacities of any race.

Many later writers have followed him in this discrimination, although they phrase it in various forms. The latest, Professor Vierkandt, repeats it in a more psychological guise when he states that the real source and centre of all differences between the cultures of human groups is the one difference between their voluntary and involuntary activities. The latter are instinctive, the former reflective; the latter are mechanical, the former are rational; the latter are of bondage, the former of freedom.

The sum of average brain-industry in an ethnic mind is the measure of its comparative value. Not single brilliant examples of genius, cases here and there of exceptional ability, but a prevailing love of labour is what guarantees success. A true genius, a Camoens or a Cervantes, belongs more to the world than to the nation. Both these illustrious names have stimulated thought more in foreign lands than in their own homes.

3. _Inventiveness._—When the neolithic man invented a sword of bronze to replace his dagger of stone, he invested his tribe with the kingship of the known world. The less-inventive hordes became their slaves.

The victory of man over nature has been won by his inventions; and the tribe, group, or nation which leads in the control of natural forces will also lead in the struggle for existence, and supremacy. Others may sing sweeter songs or dream diviner visions, but the potency of life will not be won thereby.

Inventiveness is another word for that knowledge which is really power, force, strength—brutal, if you will, but present, actual.

Man is distinctively a tool-using animal, and those with the most efficient tools will bring the others to terms; for when it is a tool of war, a weapon, victory is to him who has the best.

Inventiveness is the foe of habit, and habit is the foe to advancement. As the sickle gave way to the scythe, and the scythe to the mowing-machine, the food-supply was insured against failure, famines disappeared, and aggregations of millions in cities became possible.

An invention is something concrete, objective. It substitutes reality for a dream, and in the end surpasses, in the elements of the marvellous, all dreams. The Arabian Nights tell of no magic spell so potent as to enable persons to speak to each other a thousand miles apart. But invention has made that the most commonplace of incidents.

As there is no calculable limit to the natural forces, so there is none to our possible control of them. Reason has this in itself, that qualitatively it is of higher order than force and can control it to any extent. The nation which constantly encourages this application of reason must be the most forcible, the most powerful. Would you forecast the fate of the present “great powers” in the twentieth century? The books of prophecy are open. They are the records of the patent offices.

4. _Adaptability._—The fundamental law of life in organic forms is their relative ability to adapt themselves to environments.

This is just as true of ethnic units, physically and mentally. When I come to speak of acclimatisation, I shall dwell on the former phase; now, I emphasise the necessity of mental adaptation, as shown in laws, religions, customs, and thoughts.

There must be nothing “hide-bound” in the tribe or nation which migrates or which expands into new conditions of life. Home-sickness must be unknown to it. It must cherish no ancient local prejudices, carry with it no baggage which it is not ready to exchange for something more suitable. More than that, it must be on the alert to discover what alterations in home habits should be made, and hasten to make them.

Adaptability is not the loss of national character. We may change our sky with profit, but keep our minds. To lose ourselves in travelling would be a loss irreparable. The human group which succumbs to new environment does not adapt itself to it, but is drowned in it. The changes required by adaptability are chiefly external and of will. They are such as the recognition of new experiences suggests as advisable for survival.

Adaptability is an active trait. To be most effective it must be conscious and purposive. The knowledge gained from others must be utilised intentionally to the special advantage of the group. In this form it is a product of the higher culture. Primitive peoples, when they migrated, submitted themselves without reflection to the new influences around them; enlightened groups are on their guard and sedulously retain what they bring with them if they see it is better than what they find, or accept the latter if it is superior. True adaptability, therefore, is the result of conscious reasoning.

5. _Receptiveness._—Not only should the ethnic mind be ready to adapt itself to changed conditions, but it should be ever ready to give admittance to new knowledge; not only passively, but should actively seek it from others. Only thus can it progress surely and rapidly. Anything in the nature of “Chauvinism” is destructive to breadth of conception. The national egotism which scorns to learn of neighbours prepares the pathway to national ruin.

Primitive tribes borrowed extensively one from the other. The traditions, games, arts, and inventions were appropriated by the most mentally energetic, and by them such secured dominion and prosperity.

Civilisation alters not this process. That nation to-day which is most eager to learn from others, which is furthest from the fatal delusion that all wisdom flows from its own springs, will surely be in the van of progress.

Receptiveness in national life is gauged by the knowledge the nation has of others. This can be gained by intelligent travel or by study. Where the citizens of a country travel little or for amusement only, and are but slightly conversant with other languages than their own, we may be sure that the national mind is lacking in this quality. The number of foreign students in a great university is a test of this element of progress in the character of their respective nationalities.

Hence the practical deduction of the importance of a knowledge of modern languages. Without them, the minds of other nations are closed books to us. They may be surpassing us in wisdom and we be ignorant of it. In that case, some day we or our children will weep for our negligence.

6. _Forethought._—In one of his works Professor Letourneau remarks that forethought is _par excellence_ the ripe fruit of intellectual development. The ancient Greeks embodied this truth in the pregnant myth of Prometheus (Forethought), who stole fire from the gods and gave it unto men and his brother Epimetheus (Afterthought).

He who is willing to sacrifice the present for the future must possess self-control, fixity of purpose, faith in what governs the future, decision of character. His actions must be conscious, purposive, directed by intelligence. His will must be trained in the choice of motive, and his passions curbed into obedience to his reason. Self-restraint, self-sacrifice, even self-immolation, are the virtues he must be ready to practise.

The distant aim for which he is thus denying himself may be within the confines of his own expectation of life, and thus be after all centred in personal ambitions; or it may be directed toward some hoped-for life hereafter, in the next world, the spirit-land; or, noblest of all, it may be in the interest of unborn generations and humanity at large. Perhaps in his zeal he misses present joys for the illusions of a fancied future; but better this than to sacrifice the future to the present.

In such deliberate and conscious planning for remote aims he is not like the squirrel who lays up a store of nuts for the winter; for the man exercises his will and decides between motives, and his actions are not controlled by external events but by inner, psychical reflections. There is even something not despicable in that avarice which heaps up riches and knows not who shall enjoy them. In it is revealed that anxiety to labour for a remote future, at present sacrifice, which, in nobler expressions, is a fine, essentially human, trait.

This characteristic differs widely in mankind, and in individuals. So significant is it of the progress of the group that in various forms it has been chosen by several writers as the main distinction between savagery and civilisation. The efforts of the barbarian aim at the satisfaction of his immediate wants only. His means of livelihood—hunting, fishing, and the collection of natural products—do not admit of saving for a far-off future. As the soul rises in culture, its horizon expands. Not merely against winter’s want, but against the inevitable periods of sickness and decrepitude which lie in wait for all, must we be prepared. Then there are the feeble and the helpless, and farther still the unborn, our descendants, for whom we feel responsible. Finally, the horizon falls co-equal with the limits of the world, and the future of all humanity appeals to the loftiest souls as demanding their strenuous labours.

The best-directed efforts of humanitarians to-day are aimed at the cultivation of forethought in the minds and habits of the lower, so called, improvident classes of society. Wise governments are engaged in providing secure depositories for small savings, in devising methods of insurance against want in old age and poverty, and in urging upon all the wisdom of guarding property against attacks, thus aiding in the survival of the nations.

These are the primary factors of progress in the ethnic mind. Everywhere and at all times their assiduous cultivation makes for national strength and life. Where they are all active, success is assured. Where even one is neglected danger is incurred.

But, it will be objected, are there not other mental traits just as necessary,—for instance, courage, enthusiasm, loyalty, patriotism? Yes, they are sometimes advantageous, sometimes necessary; but these and similar emotions are secondary; in themselves, they do not insure progress; in frequent instances, they oppose it, and lead their possessors to ruin. Blind courage, for example, like misdirected energy, is mischievous and destructive.

Emotions and sentiments are necessary stimulants to action. They are indefinitely valuable in national character, but only to the extent that they are governed and directed by intelligence. In themselves they are blind and unreasoning impulses, and dangerous guides. In culture history, they belong to primitive or half-civilised people, incapable of holding rational conduct. By means of them, astute and unscrupulous rulers sway the masses, exciting them to actions detrimental to themselves.

The real factors in ethnic evolution must ever be those which are rational, conscious, voluntary. As voluntary, they require freedom, liberty of choice and of action. Freedom is an external condition, and unless it is enjoyed without other restraint than the limitation of the same privilege in others, the group can never reach its complete development. In the theory of progress, therefore, it should be always given as the primary condition of growth.

The physiological processes by which regressive variation affects the ethnic mind are chiefly three:

1. Absorption through concentration elsewhere.

2. Disuse or neglect of faculties.

3. Reaction from natural limitations.

Such changes as these are not merely consistent with ethnic advancement but essential to it. They indicate simply a re-distribution of the vital forces in accordance with the demands of new conditions. This is a phenomenon constantly seen in the individual life of organic beings of every grade, and that it extends to the species and to the mental powers proves that it is an universal law.

Many have maintained that regressive variation proceeds in an inverse direction from progressive evolution, eliminating the most recently acquired characteristics first. Not a few have sought to apply this supposed law to ethnic conditions and sociological factors. But recent authorities of weight, who have examined this question with care, regard the instances supposed to confirm such a theory as coincidences only, or explicable on other grounds.

The term “regressive,” therefore, is to be understood as applying to a physiological and healthy process, by which the sum of nutrition in an organism is expended more upon one or several elements of that organism at the expense of other elements. The latter, therefore, reduced in sustenance, undergo “regressive” changes, atrophy, or diminish.

In mental life this is paralleled by the cultivation of some faculties to the neglect of others. Those to which we “pay attention,” as the phrase is, improve, while those which we neglect are weakened.

What is here noted of the individual is true of the group. Indeed, it is a leading fact in the psychical history of the species. Man has paid heavily for all his winnings in the intellectual field by losses of many a power which would serve him well had he retained it. He has forfeited the instincts which once were his guides, the acuteness of his senses has gone, the happy carelessness of his youth has deserted him. We may all join in the lament of Mrs. Browning:

“I have lost, ah, many a pleasure, Many a hope and many a power.”

In applying these general facts to the variations of the ethnic mind, the principal distinction to observe is between _relative_ regressive and _actual_ regressive changes.

The former are not only consistent with general progress, but in some sense a condition of it. In following the steep ascent of advancement, we must cast aside some of our baggage. We must husband our resources and spend them where the return will be most bountiful. Where we strike the balance of our mental losses and gains and find it in favour of general improvement, we may rest content.

_1. Absorption through Concentration Elsewhere._—The concentration of the ethnic mind on the cultivation of one group-trait infallibly leads to a diminution of other faculties. The group has a fixed amount of time, activity, and mental force, and if this is concentrated chiefly on one purpose, others must suffer.

History offers numberless examples of this. A few will suffice. The Vikings of Norseland had but one vocation—war; and though they repeatedly founded kingdoms in the south, not one survived. The capacities for peaceful life were lost in them, but for generations they were the terror of the more numerous and highly cultured nations of the south.

Exclusive devotion to the religious sentiment has reduced many peoples to practical imbecility, especially where the State has used its powers to force a particular church upon the community. Nothing, indeed, has brought about more complete intellectual atrophy.

These are examples where the process under consideration has been misdirected or carried too far. When it is properly guided, the compensation for the loss or diminution of one faculty is vastly greater than the value of that faculty. Thus, it was through the cultivation of his intelligence that early man lost his instincts. Through an earnest desire for peace which sprang up in the cities of the Middle Ages, the constant strife between the feudal nobles was measurably checked, to the signal advantage of the nation.

Where the stress of mental attention is directed to the cultivation of secondary traits or of those which make against the general welfare, the process is still physiological; it may, indeed, for the time be advantageous, concentrating the group-feeling and fitting the nation for its immediate conditions. Thus, in the present age, industrialism attracts to its sphere most of the ability of several leading nations. It offers not in itself a high ideal of life, but appears to be one peculiarly suited to the prevailing conditions of humanity. It stores reserve national force which will, doubtless, in time be expended on nobler aims.

2. _Disuse or Neglect of Faculties._—The impairment of mental powers through disuse is one of the most common phenomena of psychology. Men are much more colour-blind than women, because they exert less the faculty of distinguishing hues. Persons who do not practise memorising soon lose the power.

In the history of nations this has been most conspicuous in the neglect of the military spirit; Carthage yielded to Rome, and Rome to the barbarian, chiefly because a distaste for personal exposure in combat led each nation in time to depend on mercenaries for defence. For centuries in China the vocation of the soldier has been looked upon as inferior to that of the scholar or the statesman; and, however just this might be in the abstract, it so weakened the national integrity that the vast Sinitic empire is now tottering to ruin.

Disuse may arise from two conditions: the one, from neglect and overattention to other faculties; the other, from absence of opportunity.

Both are abundantly represented in ethnic psychology. Of the former, I have just given instances; while of the latter the deliberate avoidance by large groups of certain areas of mental life are examples in point. Thus, the Society of Friends (Quakers) have for two hundred and fifty years expelled the cultivation of the fine arts from their education. The result is a loss of the æsthetic faculties, but a remarkable gain in other directions—such as sobriety, longevity, business success. Whether the compensation is sufficient seems, however, to be decided in the negative by the Friends themselves.

Other examples present themselves. The aristocracy of Siam regard all forms of work as so degrading that they allow their finger-nails to grow five or six inches in length to prove that their hands have never been soiled with labour. Needless to say that this disuse of their muscles is followed by atrophy of their brain-cells, so that they are an emasculate and enfeebled group. The theory of concentration and disuse of faculties in the group led to the system of castes, the most striking example of which is in India, where they are divided upon race lines. The white Brahmans are the priests, legislators, scholars, and diplomats; the red Rajpoots are the warriors and chieftains; the yellow Mongols are the commercial and agricultural class; while the black Dravidians are the mechanics and herdsmen. Each caste adopts its special branch of activity and avoids that traditionally belonging to another caste.

Although a similar theory has been widely popular in many states, such a division of labour and responsibility has in it elements of debility which in the long run must bring about social disintegration. It conflicts with the unity of the ethnic mind.

3. _Reaction from Natural Limitations._—As there is a difference in the mental aptitudes of individuals which no training can equalise, so there is in those of human groups. Its causes do not concern us here. The fact remains and must be faced.

There are natural limitations to each mind and to each group of minds. Compared with the most highly gifted, the less so stand in the physiological relation of “rudimentary organs.” When brought into contact, the latter will either succumb or accept a subordinate position.

The American Indians, as a race, were comparatively highly gifted. They created an order of architecture and even devised a system of phonetic writing; but none of their states was of long duration, and none of their so-called “empires” rose above the level of a temporary confederacy.

The limitations of the racial mind were such that a complex social organisation was impossible for them. In the forms of their highest governments, those of the Aztecs, Mayas, and Peruvians, we see repeated on a large scale the simple and insufficient models of the rude hunting tribes of the plains.

This is also true of the black race of Africa. The powerful monarchies which at times have been erected in that continent over the dead bodies of myriads of victims have lasted but a generation or two. The natural limitations of the racial mind prevented it.

Many other examples could be cited. Indeed, the law of “thus far shalt thou go and no farther” tells the story of most of the failures of races and peoples. They fell through mental inability to succeed. They had reached the natural limit of their activities.

But there is in this no occasion to deduce a conclusion of fatalism. These limitations have been operative in great measure because they have been unrecognised, and no effort has been made to escape them. Though they may not be remedied, their evil effects may be avoided by enlightened prevision. They act like other natural laws, and all such laws can be turned to man’s advantage, if he sets about it wisely.

MODES AND RATES OF ETHNIC VARIATION.—Both progressive and regressive mental variations are formed of constructive, synthetic evolution; both are necessary to general advancement; both have their place in the scheme of national health and growth. They belong among what the physiologist calls “anabolic” processes—those whose tendency is to preserve and develop the species.

There has, however, been frequent misunderstanding of the modes of action of these processes and the rate of their movement. This misconception exists widely to-day. Many writers have mistaken actual advance for degeneration, or claimed that some nation or stage of culture was superior to another from some single real or imagined feature. Thus Rousseau and his school, enamoured of the supposed personal freedom of the savage, lauded the existence of man “in a state of nature”; and their followers still assail modern civilisation as a failure.

It becomes important, therefore, to examine the modes of healthy progress so that we may understand its sometimes strange aspects.

These modes are three in number:

1. In lines, either parallel (homoplastic) or divergent (heteroplastic).

2. In circles, or curved forms (spirals).

3. In waves, rhythmic undulatory forms.

1. _Parallel and Divergent Variation._—Evolutionists are familiar with these two forms of progressive variation in the organic world. They are equally evident in human progress.

No fact in ethnology is more striking than the parallelisms of primitive culture. Go where we will among the savage tribes of the globe, we find them developing the same arts along the same lines, framing their tribal organisations on the same models, calling in similar words on the same gods. Not only in this but in what seem matters of caprice, fancy, and local colour, the same similarity, almost identity, prevails. They tell stories of like plots, decorate their weapons in like patterns, dance and sing in like forms.

Yet, though so much alike, so “tarred with the same stick,” each tribe and group is different. Each has its own imprint and character. Each has its points of individuality.

This is “divergent” variation, just as universal, just as inevitable as the parallelism we have been considering. This extends into minute and seemingly unimportant details. We may, for example, compare the stone axes of neighbouring American tribes. In a casual survey, they look alike; a close inspection reveals slight but constant differences. The trained eye can distinguish their place of origin without difficulty.

This inherent divergence is so profound that two well-marked groups become incapable of mental unity. They may be separated by an imaginary line, and have been for generations under like climatic and cultural conditions, but the imprint of the divergence is ineradicable. If they have the same religion, they will understand it differently; the same events will impress them differently; their feeling and their hopes will be asunder.

While this is true, it is also true that a new stimulus to progress is created by the union of divergent lines of thought. The resultant is a fresh element in mental life, a new birth independent of either parent.

Such unions are brought about either by similarity or contrast. There is a species of elective affinity between certain lines of psychical development which at once unites them as they approach each other.

There is also a similar union induced by contrasted psychical states. We say familiarly that “opposites attract each other,” and it is a maxim drawn from frequent experience. The rapid changes from social freedom to military tyranny in the mercurial population of some states seem more gratifying to the ethnic spirit than a continued stable government.

Parallel variations lead to similarity in products. They are “homoplastic,” to use the term of the evolutionist. Primitive tribes, developing under the same general conditions of environment, are strikingly alike in culture.

Divergent variations are “heteroplastic,” that is, they lead to new products, and hence are the higher activities in all that makes for advancement. Whatever multiplies them stimulates the growth of culture.

2. _Variation in Circles or Curves._—Both parallel and divergent evolution are expressions of continuity of progress in lines, extending from point to point, intersecting to produce other lines of new directions.

Such a rectilinear scheme is the simplest that we can sketch of human advancement; and for many purposes it is sufficiently correct. It does not, however, fully express the geometrical representation of such agencies as we are considering. Professor Baldwin has justly remarked that there is a “circular activity” in all progress. Its influence is not aimed solely at a point ahead, but extends itself in all directions. The reception of a new and true idea in the human mind may be likened to the introduction of a ray of sunlight into a darkened room. Its chief force is seen in the linear shaft of light, but the illumination extends in some degree to the whole space.

Johannes Schmidt has shown that the distribution of the early Aryan dialects and religions was not from the point of common origin by right lines of migration in different directions, but should be represented diagrammatically by a series of irregular circles and ellipses, overlapping each other. The tendency to variation arises in some centre and spreads from it in a series of curves. These meeting others lead to an “interlinking” of cultural areas.

This is true of the other elements of ethnic culture. The localities where many such overlappings occurred became secondary centres from which in turn the circular activity of culture was propagated.

A mart where many visitors from different nations congregated would receive some new learning from all and through its concentration would impart this higher potency in some measure to all. For example, the city of Nippur, on the Babylonian plain, attracted twenty-five hundred years ago to its markets not only Assyrians and Edomites, but Medes and Persians from the East, Syrians and Hittites from the West, and probably Greeks and Egyptians and Arabians from remoter lands.

Human progress has been likened by some to a spiral figure where each advance is a repetition of a former stage but with improvements to it. This is a combination of the right line and the curve; but the notion that repetition or recapitulation exists in evolution in any other form than that of renewed effort finds little support in natural science.

3. _Variation in Waves, or Rhythmic Undulations._—Some of the most recent speculations on the ultimate forces of the universe lead to the belief that they are maintained in activity by an eternal rhythmic pulsation or undulation, generating its energy from its periods of repose.

This doctrine has been applied by Professor Gerland to the progress of the human race. His teaching is that after a period of rapid advance there follows one of depression, which in turn is succeeded by another of advance, reaching a higher development than any which preceded it.

Other writers have expressed this notion in the form that after a period of activity and invention follows one of repose and reflection, giving way in turn to another of activity.

THE RATE OF PROGRESS.—Professor de Mortillet calculates from a wide range of data, geologic and archæologic, that man has lived on the earth about 240,000 years. The most conservative student of prehistoric records would not estimate the life of our species at less than fifty thousand years, and it is much more likely to be double that duration.

The date of anything like civilisation is much more recent. Even in its oldest centres, as Egypt or Babylonia, to place its beginning ten thousand years ago is to exceed the demands of the boldest antiquary; while over most of the now civilised areas of the globe a condition of barbarism prevailed until less than two thousand years ago.

These facts prove wide variations in the rate of progress, very slow movements in earlier times and lower conditions, singularly rapid advances in later high conditions.

We are led to the conclusion, therefore, that the rate is not by one mode of progression but by several.

1. By arithmetical progression (addition).

2. By geometrical progression (multiplication).

3. By saltatory progression (permutation).

These are not to be applied too strictly, but it is safe to make the general statement about them that they correspond to the three stages of culture,—savagery, half-culture, and full-culture.

The simplest rate is by adding one invention or art to another, as does the savage in his lowest stage to-day and as did primitive man for myriads of years. Each such addition is so much gained, but reflects little improvement on the general life. Thus the Australian began with a stone fastened to a wooden handle, and with which he could strike a blow, scratch the earth, or tear flesh. To this he added in time a spear or javelin, a club, and finally that curious weapon, the boomerang. Each of these inventions helped him just to the extent he used it and not more. His general condition was not bettered beyond that amount. It was as if he had added a hundred dollars to his capital and enjoyed the interest of the investment. His was arithmetical progression.

This merely arithmetical progression by simple addition, 2 + 2 + 2 + 2=8, explains why the introduction or invention of very important technical procedures have frequently been of no influence on the general culture of a people. Thus, the smelting and forging of iron has been known from time immemorial among the African blacks, and many of them are skilful blacksmiths; but beyond its immediate convenience for weapons, the art did them no benefit. The Chinese knew the compass and gunpowder many centuries before the Europeans, but their methods of war and navigation received no impulse from these potent allies.

French physiologists have defined the human brain as “an organ of repetition and multiplication.” So long as its activities are confined to mere imitation, following a set example, it employs the former function only, and the progress of the group must be very slow.

This was not Mr. Lewis H. Morgan’s opinion. That thoughtful ethnologist maintained that “from first to last human progress has been in a ratio not rigorously but essentially geometrical.” But the arguments on which he chiefly based this maxim, so far as it applies to primitive conditions were the development of articulate speech and the social, “gentile” organisation; and neither of these resulted from a conscious effort of mind.

Progress does proceed in a geometrical ratio—that is, by multiplication, when an invention reacts on the sum of the ethnic possessions to increase their general value—when, as we say, it has an indefinite number of “applications.” This is seen in the recognition of the mechanical powers,—the lever, the pulley, the screw, the weighing-beam, and so on. In ship-building, the oar, the rudder, and the sail improved the whole system of water transportation.

Geometrical ratio increases rapidly. It is represented by a series 2 × 2 × 2 × 2=16. But the augment by permutation is still greater. This is shown in the series 2 × 3 × 4 × 5=120. Mr. George Iles claims that this is the true rate of modern progress as represented by the effect on the world of printing, steam, electricity, and photography. This is progress “saltatory,” or by leaps. It explains, he believes, the sudden and rapid advance of some periods, and also the losses of continuity sometimes observed. His maxim is: “The newest of the factors of culture multiplies all the factors which went before it.”