like the school at Paris, the flourishing state of the Berlin
Ethnological Society, which also reports a large increase in the number
of its members, the various other societies and journals, and the
important contributions which are continually being made from the
numerous intellectual centres of that land of learning, all attest the
interest which the study of man excites there. In Italy, in the
Scandinavian kingdoms, in Russia, and even in Spain, there are signs of
similar activity. A glance at the recent periodical literature of
America, especially the publications of the Smithsonian Institution,
will show how strongly the scientific work of that country is setting in
the same direction.
It is true that a very great proportion of the energies of the
societies, institutions, and individuals who cultivate this vast subject
are, in all these lands, as it is indeed to so great an extent in our
own, devoted to that branch which borders upon the old and favourite
studies of archæology and geology. The fascinating power of the pursuit
of the earliest traces of man’s existence upon the earth, with the
possibilities of obtaining some glimpses of his mode of origin, is
attested in the devotion seen everywhere in museums, in separate
publications, and in journals, to prehistoric anthropology.
But, though the study of man’s origin and earliest appearances upon the
earth, and that of the structural modifications to which in course of
time he has arrived, or the study of races, are intimately related, and
will ultimately throw light upon one another, I venture to think that
the latter is the more pressing of the two, as it is certainly the more
practically important; and hence the necessity for greater attention to
physical anthropology. In seeking for a criterion upon which to base our
study of races, in looking for essential proofs of consanguinity of
descent from common ancestors in different groups of men, I have no
hesitation in saying that we must first look to their physical or
anatomical characters, next to their moral and intellectual
characters--for our purpose more difficult of apprehension and
comparison--and, lastly, as affording hints, often valuable in aid of
our researches, but rarely to be depended upon, unless corroborated from
other sources, to language, religion, and social customs.
The study of the physical or anatomical characters of the races of man
is unfortunately a subject beset with innumerable difficulties. It can
only be approached with full advantage by one already acquainted with
the ordinary facts of human anatomy, and with a certain amount of
zoological training. The methods used by the zoologist in discriminating
species and varieties of animals, and the practice acquired in detecting
minute resemblances and differences that an ordinary observer might
overlook, are just what are required in the physical anthropologist.
As the great problem which is at the root of all zoology is to discover
a natural classification of animals, so the aim of zoological
anthropology is to discover a natural classification of man. A natural
classification is an expression of our knowledge of real relationship,
of consanguinity--of “blood,” as the author of _Endymion_ expresses it.
When we can satisfactorily prove that any two of the known groups of
mankind are descended from the same common stock, a point is gained. The
more such points we have acquired, the more nearly shall we be able to
picture to ourselves, not only the present, but the past distribution of
the races of man upon the earth, and the mode and order in which they
have been derived from one another.
The difficulties in the way of applying zoological principles to the
classification of man are vastly greater than in the case of most
animals; the problem being, as we shall see, one of much greater
complexity. When groups of animals become so far differentiated from
each other as to represent separate species they remain isolated; they
may break up into further subdivisions--in fact, it is only by further
subdivision that new species can be formed; but it is of the very
essence of species, as now universally understood by naturalists, that
they cannot recombine, and so give rise to new forms. With the varieties
of man it is otherwise. They have never so far separated as to answer to
the physiological definition of species. All races are fertile one with
another, though perhaps in different degrees. Hence new varieties have
constantly been formed, not only by the segmentation, as it were, of a
portion of one of the old stocks, but also by various combinations of
those already established.
Neither of the old conceptions of the history of man, which pervaded the
thought, and form the foundation of the works of all ethnological
writers up to the last few years, rest on any solid basis, or account
for the phenomena of the present condition and distribution of the
species.
The one view--that of the monogenist--was that all races, as we see them
now, are the descendants of a single pair, who, in a comparatively short
period of time spread over the world from one common centre of origin,
and became modified by degrees in consequence of changes of climate and
other external conditions. The other--that of the polygenist--is that a
certain number of varieties or species (no agreement has been arrived
at as to the number, which is estimated by different authorities at from
three to twenty or more) have been independently created in different
parts of the world, and have perpetuated the distinctive characters as
well as the geographical position with which they were originally
endowed.
The view which appears best to accord with what is now known of the
characters and distribution of the races of man, and with the general
phenomena of nature, may be described as a modification of the former of
these hypotheses.
Without entering into the difficult question of the method of man’s
first appearance upon the world, we must assume for it a vast
antiquity--at all events as measured by any historical standard. Of this
there is now ample proof. During the long time he existed in the savage
state--a time compared to which the dawn of our historical period was as
yesterday--he was influenced by the operation of those natural laws
which have produced the variations seen in other regions of organic
nature. The first men may very probably have been all alike; but, when
spread over the face of the earth, and become subject to very diverse
external conditions--climate, food, competition with members of his own
species or with wild animals--racial differences began slowly to be
developed through the potency of various kinds of selection acting upon
the slight variations which appeared in individuals in obedience to the
tendency implanted in all living things.
Geographical position must have been one of the main elements in
determining the formation and the permanence of races. Groups of men
isolated from their fellows for long periods, such as those living on
small islands, to which their ancestors may have been accidentally
drifted, would naturally, in course of time, develop a new type of
features, of skull, of complexion or hair. A slight set in one
direction, in any of these characters, would constantly tend to
intensify itself, and so new races would be formed. In the same way
different intellectual or moral qualities would be gradually developed
and transmitted in different groups of men. The longer a race thus
formed remained isolated, the more strongly impressed and the more
permanent would its characteristics become, and less liable to be
changed or lost, when the surrounding circumstances were altered, or
under a moderate amount of intermixture from other races--the more
“true,” in fact, would it be. On the other hand, on large continental
tracts, where no “mountains interposed make enemies of nations,” or
other natural barriers form obstacles to free intercourse between tribe
and tribe, there would always be a tendency towards uniformity from the
amalgamation of races brought into close relation by war or by commerce.
Smaller or feebler races have been destroyed or absorbed by others
impelled by superabundant population or other causes to spread beyond
their original limits; or sometimes the conquering race has itself
disappeared by absorption into the conquered.
Thus, for untold ages, the history of man has presented a shifting,
kaleidoscopic scene; new races gradually becoming differentiated out of
the old elements, and, after dwelling awhile upon the earth, either
becoming suddenly annihilated or gradually merged into new combinations;
a constant destruction and reconstruction; a constant tendency to
separation and differentiation, and a tendency to combine again into a
common uniformity--the two tendencies acting against and modifying each
other. The history of these processes in former times, except in so far
as they may be inferred from the present state of things, is a difficult
study, owing to the scarcity of evidence. If we had any approach to a
complete palæontological record, the history of man could be
reconstructed; but nothing of the kind is forthcoming. Evidences of the
anatomical characters of man, as he lived on the earth during the time
when the great racial characteristics were being developed, during the
long ante-historic period in which the Negro, the Mongolian, and the
Caucasian were being gradually fashioned into their respective types, is
entirely wanting, or, if any exists, it is at present safely buried in
the earth, perhaps to be revealed at some unexpected time, and in some
unforeseen manner.
It will be observed, and perhaps observed with perplexity by some, that
no definition has as yet been given of the oft-recurring word “race.”
The sketch just drawn of the past history of man must be sufficient to
show that any theory implying that the different individuals composing
the human species can be parcelled out into certain definite groups,
each with its well-marked and permanent limits separating it from all
others, has no scientific foundation; but that, in reality, these
individuals are aggregated into a number of groups of very different
value in a zoological sense, with characters more or less strongly
marked and permanent, and often passing insensibly into one another. The
great groups are split up into minor subdivisions, and filling up the
gaps between them are intermediate or intercalary forms, derived either
from the survival of individuals retaining the generalised or ancestral
characters of a race from which two branches have separated and taken
opposite lines of modification, or from the reunion of members of such
branches in recent times. If we could follow those authors who can
classify mankind into such divisions as trunks, branches, races, and
sub-races, each having its definite and equivalent meaning, our work
would appear to be greatly simplified, although perhaps we should not be
so near the truth we are seeking. But being not yet in a position to
define what amount of modification is necessary to constitute
distinction of race, I am compelled to use the word vaguely for any
considerable group of men who resemble each other in certain common
characters transmitted from generation to generation.
In approaching the question of the classification of the races of man
from a physical point of view, we must bestow great care upon the
characters upon which we rely in distinguishing one group from another.
It is well known in zoology that the modifications of a single organ or
system may be of great value, or may be quite useless, according as such
modifications are correlated with others in different organs or systems,
or are mere isolated examples of variation in the economy of the animal
without structural changes elsewhere. The older ornithologists
associated in one order all the birds with webbed feet, and the order
thus constituted, _Natatores_ or _Palmipedes_, which received the great
sanction of Cuvier, still stands in many zoological compilations. Recent
investigations into the anatomy of birds have shown that the species
thus associated together show no other sign of natural affinity, and no
evidence of being derived from the same stock. In fact, there is
tolerably good proof that the webbing of the feet is a merely adaptive
character, developed or lost, present or absent, irrespective of other
structural modifications. In the same way, when anthropology was less
advanced than it is now, it was thought that the distinction between
long and short headed, dolichocephalic and brachycephalic people,
pointed out by Retzius, indicated a primary division of the human
species; but it was afterwards discovered that, although the character
was useful otherwise, it was one of only secondary importance, as the
long-headed as well as the short-headed group both included races
otherwise of the strongest dissimilarity.
In all classifications, the point to be first ascertained is the
fundamental plan of construction; but in cases where the fundamental
plan has undergone but little modification, we are obliged to make use
of what appear trivial characters, and compensate for their triviality
by their number. The more numerous the combinations of specialised
characters, by which any species or race differs from its congeners, the
more confidence we have in their importance. The separation of what is
essential from what is incidental or merely superficial in such
characters lies at the root of all the problems of this nature that
zoologists are called upon to solve; and in proportion as the
difficulties involved in this delicate and often perplexing
discrimination are successfully met and overcome will the value of the
conclusions be increased. These difficulties, so familiar in zoology,
are still greater in the case of anthropology. The differences we have
to deal with are often very slight; their significance is at present
very little understood. We go on expending time and trouble in heaping
up elaborate tables of measurements, and minutely recording every point
that is capable of description, with little regard to any conclusions
that may be drawn from them. It is certainly time now to endeavour, if
possible, to discriminate characters which indicate deep-lying affinity
from those that are more transient, variable, or adaptive, and to
adjust, as far as may be, the proper importance to be attached to each.
It is, however, quite to be expected that, in the infancy of all
sciences, a vast amount of labour must be expended in learning the
methods of investigation. In none has this been more conspicuous than in
the subject under consideration. Many have come to despair, for
instance, of any good, commensurate with the time it occupies, coming of
the minute and laborious work involved in craniometry. This is because
nearly all our present methods are tentative. We have not yet learnt, or
are only beginning to learn, what lines of investigation are profitable
and what are barren. The results, even as far as we have gone, are,
however, quite sufficient, in my opinion, to justify perseverance. I am,
however, not so sure whether it be yet time to answer the demand, so
eager and so natural, which is being made in many quarters for the
formulation of a definite plan of examination, measurement, and
description to which all future investigation should rigidly adhere. All
steps to promote agreement upon fundamental points are to be cordially
welcomed, and meetings or congresses convened for such a purpose will be
of use by giving opportunities for the impartial discussion of the
relative value of different methods; but the agreement will finally be
brought about by the general adoption of those measurements and methods
which experience proves to be the most useful, while others will
gradually fall into disuse by a kind of process of natural selection.
The changes and improvements which are being made yearly, almost
monthly, in instruments and in methods, show what we should lose if we
were to stop at any given period, and decree in solemn conclave that
this shall be our final system, this instrument and this method shall be
the only one used throughout the world, that no one shall depart from
it. We scarcely need to ask how long such an agreement would be binding.
The subject is not sufficiently advanced to be reduced to a state of
stagnation such as this would bring it to.
To take an example from what is perhaps the most important of the
anatomical characters by which man is distinguished from the lower
animals, the superior from the inferior races of man; the smaller or
greater projection forwards of the lower part of the face in relation to
the skull proper, or that which contains the brain. From the time when
Camper drew his facial angle, to the present day, the readiest and
truest method of estimating this projection has occupied the attention
of anatomists and anthropologists, and we are still far from any general
agreement. Every country, every school, has its own system, so different
that comparison with one another is well-nigh impossible. This is
undoubtedly an evil; but the question is whether we should all agree to
adopt one of the confessedly defective systems now in vogue, or whether
we should not rather continue to hope for, and endeavour to find, one
which may not be subject to the well-known objections urged against all.
We want, especially in this country, more workers--trained and
experienced men, who will take up the subject seriously, and devote
themselves to it continuously. Of such we may say, without offence to
those few who have done occasional excellent work in physical
anthropology, but whose chief scientific activity lies in other fields,
we have not one. In the last number of the French _Revue
d’Anthropologie_, a reference caught my eye to a craniometrical method
in use by the “English school” of anthropologists. It was a reference
only to a method which I had ventured to suggest, but which, as far as I
know, has not been adopted by any one else. A school is just what we
have not, and what we want--a body of men, not only willing to learn,
but able to discuss, to criticise, to give their approval to, or reduce
to its proper level, the results put forth by our few original
investigators and writers. The rapidity with which any one of the most
slender pretensions who ventures into the field (I speak from painful
experience) is raised to be an oracle among his fellows is one of the
most alarming proofs of the present barrenness of the land.
Another most urgent need is the collection and preservation of the
evidences of the physical structure of the various modifications of man
upon the earth. Especially urgent is this now, as we live in an age in
which, in a far greater degree than any previous one, the destruction of
races, both by annihilation and absorption, is going on. The world has
never witnessed such changes in its ethnology as those now taking place,
owing to the rapid extension of maritime discovery and maritime
commerce, which is especially affecting the island population among
which, more than elsewhere, the solution of the most important
anthropological problems may be looked for. If we have at present
neither the knowledge nor the leisure to examine and describe, we can at
least preserve from destruction the materials for our successors to work
upon. Photographs, models, anatomical specimens, skeletons or parts of
skeletons, with their histories carefully registered, of any of the
so-called aboriginal races, now rapidly undergoing extermination or
degeneration, will be hereafter of inestimable value. Drawings,
descriptions, and measurements are also useful, though in a far less
degree, as allowance must always be made for imperfections in the
methods as well as the capacity of the artist or observer. Such
collections must be made upon a far larger scale than has hitherto been
attempted, as, owing to the difficulties already pointed out in the
classification of man, it is only by large numbers that the errors
arising from individual peculiarities or accidental admixture can be
obviated, and the prevailing characteristics of a race or group truly
ascertained. It is only in an institution commanding the resources of
the nation that such a collection can be formed, and it may therefore be
confidently hoped that the Trustees of the British Museum will
appropriate some portion of the magnificent new building, which has been
provided for the accommodation of their natural history collections, to
this hitherto neglected branch of the subject.
I have mentioned two of the needs of anthropology in this country--more
workers and better collections: there is still a third--that of a
society or institution in which anthropologists can meet and discuss
their respective views, with a journal in which the results of their
investigations can be laid before the public, and a library in which
they can find the books and periodicals necessary for their study. All
this ought to be provided by the Anthropological Institute of Great
Britain and Ireland, which originated in the amalgamation of the old
Ethnological and Anthropological Societies. But, as I intimated some
time ago, the Institute does not at the present time flourish as it
should; its meetings are not so well attended as they might be; the
journal is restricted in its powers of illustration and printing by want
of funds; the library is quite insufficient for the needs of the
student.
This certainly does not arise from any want of good management in the
Society itself. Its affairs have been presided over and administered by
some of the most eminent and able men the country has produced. Huxley,
Lubbock, Busk, Evans, Tylor, and Pitt-Rivers have in succession given
their energies to its service, and yet the number of its members is
falling away, its usefulness is crippled, and its very existence seems
precarious. Some decline to join the Institute, others leave it, upon
the plea that, being unable from distance or other causes to attend the
meetings, they cannot obtain the full return for their subscriptions;
others on the ground that the Journal does not contain the exact
information which they require.
There surely is to be found a sufficient number of persons who are
influenced by different considerations, who feel that anthropological
science is worth cultivating, and that those who are laboriously and
patiently tracing out the complex problems of man’s diversity and man’s
early history are doing a good work, and ought to be encouraged by
having the means afforded them of carrying on their investigations and
of placing the results of their researches before the world--who feel,
moreover, that there ought to be some central body, representing the
subject, which may, on occasion, influence opinion or speak
authoritatively on matters often of great practical importance to the
nation.
There must be many in this great and wealthy country who feel that they
are helping a good cause in joining such a society, even if they are not
individually receiving what they consider a full equivalent for their
small subscription--many who feel satisfaction in helping the cause of
knowledge, in helping to remove the opprobrium that the British
Anthropological Society alone of those of the world is lacking in
vitality, and in helping to prevent this country from falling behind all
the nations in the cultivation of a science in which for the strongest
reasons it might be expected to hold the foremost place. It is a far
more grateful task to maintain, extend, and if need be improve, an
existing organisation than to construct a new one. I feel, therefore, no
hesitation in urging upon all who take interest in the promotion of the
study of Anthropology to rally round the Institute, and to support the
endeavours of the present excellent president to increase its
usefulness.
XVII
PRESIDENTIAL ADDRESS TO THE SECTION OF ANTHROPOLOGY[43]