In some such way language began. But remember that this is quite

another question from the origin of _languages_, or, to use the proper

term, of _linguistic stocks_. They are very numerous, and many of

comparatively late birth. Those convolutions of the brain which preside

over speech once developed, man did not have to repeat his long and

toilsome task of acquiring linguistic facility. Children are always

originating new words and expressions, and if two or three infants are

left much together, they will soon have a tongue of their own, unlike

anything they hear around them. Numerous examples of this character

have been collected by Horatio Hale, and upon them he has based an

entirely satisfactory theory of the source of that multiplicity of

languages which we find in various parts of the globe.[31] In the

unstable life of barbarous epochs, very young children were often left

without parents or protectors, or wandered off and were lost. Most of

them doubtless perished, but those who survived developed a tongue of

their own, nearly all whose radicals would be totally different from

those of the language of their parents. Thus in early times numerous

dialects, numerous independent tongues, came to be spoken within

limited areas by the same ethnic stock.

It is a common error to suppose that there was once but one or a few

languages, from which all others have been derived. The reverse is the

case. Within the historic period, the number of languages has been

steadily diminishing. We know of scores which have become extinct, as

many American tongues; others, like the Celtic, are in plain process

of disappearance. We can almost predict the time when the work and

the thought of the world will be carried on in less than half a dozen

tongues, if indeed that many survive as really active.

If we take a comprehensive survey of the grammatical structure of

all known tongues, we are cheered by the discovery that they can be

divided into a few great classes or groups. The similarities of each

group are not in words or sounds, but in the plan of “expressing the

proposition,” or placing words together in a phrase to convey an idea.

This may be accomplished in one of four ways:

1. By _isolation_. The words representing the parts of the phrase may

be ranged one after another without any change. This is the case in the

Chinese and the languages of Farther India.

2. By _agglutination_. The principal word in the phrase may have

added to it or placed before it a number of syllables expressing the

relations to it of the other ideas. Most African and North Asian

tongues are agglutinative.

3. By _incorporation_. The accessory words are either inserted within

the verbal members of the sentence, or attached to it in abbreviated

forms, so that the phrase has the appearance of one word. Most American

languages belong to this type.

4. By _inflection_. Each word of the sentence indicates by its own form

its relation to the main proposition. All Aryan and Semitic idioms are

more or less inflected.

These distinctions have great ethnographic interest. They almost

deserve to be called racial traits. Thus, the inflected languages

belonged originally solely to the European race; the isolating

languages are still confined wholly to the Sinitic branch of the Asian

race; the incorporative languages are found nowhere of such pure type

and so numerous as in the American race; while the agglutinative type

is that alone which is found in independent examples in every race.

_Scheme of Languages._

1. Isolating { Chinese, Thibetan, Sifan, Tai.

{ Siamese, Annamite, Burmese, Assamese.

{ 1. By reduplication and { Polynesian, Papuan,

prefixes { Bantu.

2. Agglutinative { Sibiric tongues, (Ural-altaic),

{ 2. By suffixes { Basque.

{ Japanese, Korean, Dravidian.

{ 1. With synthetic tendency { Algonkin, Nahuatl.

{ Quichua, Guarani.

3. Incorporative { 2. With analytic tendency. { Otomi, Maya, Sahaptin.

{ 1. By annexing grammatical elements. Egyptian.

4. Inflectional { 2. By inner changes of stem. Libyan, Semitic.

{ 3. By addition of suffixes. Aryac tongues.

The principles on which languages should be compared are frequently

misunderstood, and this is one of the reasons why the value of

linguistics to ethnography has so often been underrated.

The first rule which should be observed is to _rank grammatical

structure far above verbal coincidences_. The neglect of this rule will

condemn any effort at comparison. For example, there have been writers

who have sought to derive the Polynesian, an agglutinative, from the

Sanscrit, an inflected tongue; or an American from a Semitic stock.

Such attempts reveal an ignorance of the nature of language.

A second rule is that in tracing the etymology of words, the _phonetic

laws of the special group to which they belong_ must be followed. This

is an even more frequent source of error than the former. Writers of

high reputation will trace variations in African or American or Semitic

names by the phonetic laws of the Aryac dialects--an absurd error, as

the phonetic changes are not at all the same in different linguistic

stocks.

Yet a third rule is _to appraise correctly the value of verbal

identities_. Generally, it is placed too high. All developed tongues

include many “loan words,” borrowed from a variety of sources. They are

not _prima facie_ evidence of ethnic relation; they have frequently

been transmitted through other nations, as is the case with thousands

of English words.

An absolute verbal identity is always suspicious; or rather it is of

_no_ ethnic value. There must be a series of words in the languages

compared of the same or similar meanings, but whose forms have been

altered by the phonetic laws peculiar to the group, for such lists of

words to merit the attention of a scientific linguist.

The question how far languages can be accepted as indicating the

relationships of peoples has been a bone of contention. One principle

we may lay down, with unimportant exceptions--_No nation has ever

willingly adopted a foreign tongue._ Whenever such a change has taken

place, it has been under stress of sovereignty, _vi coactum_, as the

lawyers say. Hence in the savage state, where prolonged domination of

one tribe by another rarely occurs, language is an excellent ethnic

guide, as in America and ancient Europe.

Another principle is that in a conflict of tongues, as after conquest,

_that tongue prevails which belongs to the more cultured people_,

whether this be conqueror or conquered. This is well illustrated by

the survival of the Romance languages after the inroads of the Teutonic

hordes at the Fall of the Western Empire.

A third maxim in linguistic ethnography is that _mixture of languages,

especially in grammatical structure, indicates mixture of blood_.

When, for instance, we find the Maltese a dialect partly Arabic,

partly Romance, we may correctly infer that the people of the island

are descended from both these stocks. This holds good even of loan

words, when they are numerous; for though such have no influence on

the grammatical structure of a tongue, they testify to some relations

between nations, which we may be sure corresponded to others of a

sexual nature.

The “American citizens of African descent” speak English only; and

though they have been in contact with the white race for but three or

four generations, the majority of those now living are related to it by

blood, that is, are mulattoes.

The _mental aptitude_ of a nation is closely dependent on the type of

its idiom. The mind is profoundly influenced by its current modes of

vocal expression. When the form of the phrase is such that each idea

is kept clear and apart, as it is in nature, and yet its relations

to other ideas in the phrase and the sentence are properly indicated

by the grammatical construction, the intellect is stimulated by

wider variety in images and a nicer precision in their outlines and

relations. This is the case in the highest degree with the languages

of inflection, and it is no mere coincidence that those peoples who

have ever borne the banner in the van of civilization have always

spoken inflected tongues. The world will be better off when all others

are extinguished, and it is only in deep ignorance of linguistic

ethnography that such a language as _Volapük_--agglutinative in

type--could have been offered for adoption as a world-language.

I have said that alone of all animals, man has articulate speech; I now

add that also alone of all animals, he is capable of

_3. Religion._

Not only is he capable of it; he has never been known to be devoid of

it. All statements that tribes have been discovered without any kind

of religion are erroneous. Not one of them has borne the test of close

investigation.[32] The usual mistake has been to suppose that this

or that belief, this or that moral observance, constitutes religion.

In fact, there are plenty of immoral religions, and some which are

atheistic. The notion of a God or gods is not essential to religion;

for that matter, some of the most advanced religious teachers assert

that such a notion is incompatible with the highest religion. Religion

is simply the recognition of the Unknown as a controlling element in

the destiny of man and the world about him. This we shall find in the

cult of every nation, and in the heart of every man.

Some nations identified this unknown controlling power with one real

or supposed existence, some with another. Those in whom the family

sentiment was well developed believed themselves still under the

control of their deceased parents, giving rise to “ancestral worship;”

more frequently the change from light to darkness, day to night,

impressed the children of nature, and led to light and sun worship;

in some localities the terrific force displayed in the cyclone or the

thunder-storm seemed the mightiest revelation of the Unknown, and we

have the Lightning and Storm Myths; elsewhere, any odd or strange

object, any unexplained motion, was attributed to the divine, the

_super_-natural. The last mentioned mental state gave rise to those low

cults called “fetichism” and “animism,” while the former are supposed

to be somewhat higher and are distinguished as “polytheisms.” In all

of them, the prevailing sentiment is fear of the Unknown; the spirit

of worship is propitiatory, the gods being regarded as jealous and

inclined to malevolence; the cult is of the nature of sorcery, certain

formulas, rites and sacrifices being held to placate or neutralize the

ill-will or bad temper of the divinities. In its lowest forms this

is called “shamanism;” in its highest, it is seen in all dogmatic

religions.

In early conditions, each tribe has its own gods, which are not

supposed to be superior, except in force, to the gods of neighboring

tribes. No attempt is made to extend their worship beyond the tribe,

and in their images they are liable to be captured, as are their

votaries. Special prisons for such captive gods were constructed in

ancient Rome and Cuzco.

These “tribal religions” prevailed everywhere in early historic times.

The religion of the ancient Israelites, such as we find it portrayed

in the Pentateuch, was of this character. In later days, profoundly

religious minds of philosophic cast perceived that tribal cults do

not satisfy the loftiest aspirations of the religious sentiment. The

conceptions of the highest truths must be universal conceptions, and in

obedience to this the Universal or World-religions were formed.

The earliest of these was preached by Sakya Muni, Prince of

Kapilavastu, in India, about 500 B. C. It is known as Buddhism, and has

now the largest number of believers of any one faith. The second was

that taught by Christ, and the third is Islam, introduced by Mohammed

in the seventh century. It is noteworthy that all these world-religions

were framed by members of the white race. None has been devised by

members of the other races, for the doctrines advanced by Confutse and

Laotse in China are philosophic systems rather than religions.

The three World-religions named have rapidly extinguished the various

tribal religions, and it is easy to foresee that in a few generations

they will virtually embrace the religious sentiments of all mankind.

They are all three on the increase, Christianity the most rapidly by

the extension of the nations adhering to it, but Mohammedanism can

claim in the present century the greater number of proselytes, its

fields being in Central Asia, India, and Central Africa.

In the ethnographic study of religions for the purpose of estimating

their influence on the life and character of nations, we must take

notice especially of three points: 1. The ethical contents of a faith;

2. The philosophic “theory of things” on which it is based (cosmogony,

theosophy, etc.), and 3. Its power over the emotions, as upon this

rests its practical potency.

As currently taught, no one of the three world-religions named is

fully adequate on all these points. The cosmogony of Christianity is

a series of Assyrian and Hebrew myths contradicted by modern science,

and its ethical purity has been often sullied by efforts to place faith

in dogmas above the law of conscience. Mohammedanism, a more genuine

monotheism than Christianity, in some respects higher in practical

morality (temperance, charity, equality), and certainly superior in

power over the emotions, is weak in its doctrine of fatalism and in its

degradation of woman. Buddhism is tainted by a profound distrust of the

value of the individual life, by a false theory of the universe, and by

its borrowed doctrine of metempsychosis; but rises high in its appeals

to the sense of justice and right within the mind.

A religion tends to elevate its votaries in the proportion that it

withdraws their minds from merely material aims, and sets before them

stimulating ideals. This is the distinction between “material” and

“ideal” cults. Where the rites are directed mainly to conjuration,

where the prayers are for good luck in life, where the myths are mere

stories of exaggerated human shapes, there the faith is material. Such

were all the religions of the African blacks and of the Eastern and

Northern Asiatic tribes. They have never developed any thing higher.

Among the whites, however, and in a less degree among the American

Indians, there were mythical ideal figures, ranked among the gods, who

embodied grand ideal conceptions of the possible perfectibility of man,

and served as examples and models for the religious sentiment.[33]

The associative influence of a religion, whether tribal or universal in

theory, is singularly powerful. The Mohammedan who looks toward Mecca,

the Christian who turns toward Rome, feels a like bond of sympathy

with his fellow worshippers of every race and color, as did the

Israelite who wended his way to Jerusalem, or the Nahuatl who travelled

to the sacred city of Cholula. The pilgrimages, the Crusades, the

ecclesiastical Councils of past ages, have collected nations together

under the control of ideas stronger than any which practical life can

offer.

Other bonds of union are those derived from the practice of

_4. The Arts of Life._

Unquestionably the earliest of these to exert such an influence was

the construction of a shelter, in other words _architecture_. We know

that even glacial man had learned enough to make himself a house,

though it was probably inferior to that of the muskrat. In early

conditions one structure sheltered several families. Such are called

“communal houses,” and some ethnologists have argued that they are well

nigh universal down to a very late day in the evolution of domestic

architecture. The temple, the fortified refuge, the city with its

grouped homes shut in by a common wall of defence--all these illustrate

how architecture has ever tended to bring men together, and strengthen

their instincts of association.

Later in time but wider in its influence in the same direction was

the growth of _agriculture_. This art completely revolutionized the

habits of life, and rendered possible the advent of civilization. The

tribe, dependent on hunting and fishing or on natural products for a

livelihood, is necessarily migratory and separative in its habits. The

tillage of the ground with equal necessity demands a stable residence

and a centralization of individuals. The areas of primitive culture,

the sites of the earliest cities, were always in situations favorable

to agricultural pursuits.

Along with the cultivation of food-plants went hand-in-hand the

domestication of animals. The horse was trained independently in both

Europe and Asia, some species of the dog in all continents, the ox

for draft and the cow for milk principally in Asia, and the camel for

the deserts of Arabia and Africa. These humble aids brought together

distant tribes, and assimilated their characters.

The prosecution of the various special arts, as pottery, metal

work, textile-fabrics, etc., led to the formation of guilds and the

association of workers in particular localities favorable to obtaining

and utilizing the raw products. Each such conquest of the inventive

faculties drew men into closer bonds of harmonious labor, and opened

for them new avenues of joint industry. The pre-historic past of the

race is measured by archæologists by the rise and extension of new

arts, not because of themselves, but because they are indicative of

improved social conditions, greater aggregations of men, more potent

actions in history. The fine arts, in crowning the useful arts with

the iridescent glory of the ideal, impart to the handiwork of men that

universality of motive which unites all into one brotherhood.

The second class of psychic traits are:

II. THE DISPERSIVE ELEMENTS.

These have been of the utmost moment in the history of the species, and

a controlling factor in the records of every people. They are derived

from two quite different impulses in human nature; the one, a natural

propensity to roam, the other, a predisposition to contest.

Both have been favored by the ability of the species to adapt itself

to its surroundings, far surpassing that of any other animal. There is

no zone and no altitude offering the necessary food supplies that man

does not inhabit. The cat, with its traditional “nine lives,” perishes

in the upper Andes, where men live in populous cities. No one breed

of dogs can follow man to all latitudes. His powers of locomotion are

equally surprising. He can walk the swift horse to death, and his

steady and tireless gait will in the long-run leave every competitor

behind. An Indian will track a deer for days and capture it through its

utter fatigue. A Tebu thinks little of passing three days under the sun

of the Sahara without drinking. Such powers as these endow man with the

highest migratory faculties of any animal, and give rise to or have

been developed from

_1. The Migratory Instincts._

Many species of animals, especially birds, change their habitat with

the seasons, the object usually being to obtain a better food supply.

So do most hunting and fishing tribes, and for the same reason. Often

these periodical journeys extend hundred of miles and embrace the whole

tribe.

This must also have been the case with primeval man when he occupied

the world in “palæolithic” time. His home was along the shores of seas

and the banks of streams. Up and down these natural highways he pursued

his wanderings, until he had extended his roamings over most of the

habitable land.

What prompted him and all savage tribes is not always the search for

food. The desire for a more genial climate, the pressure of foes,

and often mere causeless restlessness, act as motive forces in the

movements of an unstable population. Certain peoples, as the Gypsies,

seem endowed with an hereditary instinct for vagabondage. The nomadic

hordes of the Asiatic steppes and the wastes of the Sahara transmit a

restlessness to their descendants which in itself is an obstacle to a

sedentary life.

Such vagrant tribes became the colporteurs and commercial travellers

of early society. They invented means or transportation, and

conveyed the products of one region to another. Only of late have

we learned to appreciate the wide extent of pre-historic commerce.

Long before Abraham settled in Ur of the Chaldees (say 2000 B.

C.), a well-travelled commercial road stretched from the cities of

Mesopotamia, through Egypt to the Pillars of Hercules, and thence into

Europe.[34] When Hendrick Hudson sailed into the bay of New York, the

commercial relations of the tribes who lived on its shores had already

extended to the coast of the Pacific.[35]

These lines of early traffic were also the lines of the migrations of

nations. They were fixed by the physical geography of regions, and have

rightly attracted the careful attention of ethnographers. Along them,

nation has blended into nation, race fused with race. The conviction

that early man was not sedentary, but mobile, by nature a migratory

species, wandering widely over the face of the earth, is one which has

been brought home to the ethnologist by the science of prehistoric

archæology, and it is full of significance.

_2. The Combative Instinct._

The philosopher Hobbes taught that the natural condition of man in

society is one of perpetual warfare with his neighbors. This grim

theory is sadly attested by a study of savage life. The wretched

Fuegians, the miserable Australians, with really nothing worth living

for, let alone dying for, fall to cutting each other’s throats the

moment that tribe encounters tribe. So it has been in all ages, so

it has been in all stages of culture. The warrior, the hero, is the

one who wins the hearts of women by his fame, and the devotion of men

by his prowess. Civilization helps not at all. In no century of the

world’s history have such destructive battles been fought as in the

nineteenth; at no former period have the powers of the earth collected

such gigantic armies and navies as to-day.

This love of combat at once separates and unites nations. To destroy

the common foe, the bonds of national or tribal unity are drawn the

tighter; and the aversion to the enemy tends to the preservation of the

ethnic type.

In spite of the countless miseries which follow in its train, war has

probably been the highest stimulus to racial progress. It is the most

potent excitant known of all the faculties. The intense instinct of

self-preservation will prompt to an intellectual energy which nothing

else can awake. The grandest works of imagination, the immortal

outbursts of the poets, from Homer to Whitman, have been under the

stimulus of the war-cry ringing in their ears.

The world-conquerors and the holy wars, Alexander and Napoleon, the

Crusades and the Mohammedan invasions, have been landmarks in history,

a destruction of the effete, an introduction of the new and the viable.

Guizot’s bold statement that in the decisive battles of the world it

has been, not the strongest battalions, but the truest idea which has

conquered, may be a profound ethnologic truth. Certain it is that in

weighing the psychical elements of man’s nature and their influence

on the past history of the species, we must assign to his combative

instincts a most prominent place as stimulants, and we must recognize,

amid all the miseries which they have brought upon him, the part they

have played in his development. That they have always resulted in

promoting the “survival of the fittest,” it is hard to believe, and

there is much to make us doubt; but that a great deal of the unfit has

thus been destroyed, we may reasonably accept.

What has been true always, is true to-day. It is force, might, which

forever exercises “the right of eminent domain;” and this principle is

as necessary as it is indestructible. Proudhon was logical, when, in

his treatise on _War and Peace_, he placed war and the duty of waging

war at the basis of all society, and defended it as the necessary

condition of civilization, inasmuch as it alone is the highest form of

judicial action, the last appeal of the oppressed. Never, we may be

sure, will the human species be ready or willing to forego this, the

greatest of all their privileges.

LECTURE III.

THE BEGINNINGS AND SUBDIVISIONS OF RACES.

Races and Peoples: Lectures on the Science of Ethnography · 第 3 / 18 段