Chapter XV: , does enable us in the main to understand how the physical (7)
Periods of decline are, as we have seen, sometimes associated with unfavourable traditional changes. Tradition may be of such a nature as to sap rather than to encourage vigour. But directly unfavourable turnings of tradition, such as the belief that the world would come to an end at a certain date, are only occasional causes of decline. There is in the course which the development of tradition takes an almost inevitable tendency for periods of advance to be succeeded by periods of repletion and apathy. What appears to happen so often in the history of art after a time of advance may lead to an understanding of the tendency of events in general. If we watch the flowering of any school of art we reach a period, exemplified in the work of the followers of Raphael for instance, and perhaps, as some would say, in the work of Raphael himself, when the artists appear to be lost in the practice of the technical side of artistic production. The ideal, in order to express which the technique has been called into existence, has been lost. The original stimulus has in fact lost its power, and the means to the expression of the ideal have been mistaken for ends in themselves. The technique becomes a plaything, and, there being nothing to express, art takes the form of variations in technique, and becomes, in a word, conventional. This is what would appear to happen as regards progress in general—due allowance being made in the case of skilled processes for the fact that, since they are designed to achieve practical ends, there is less chance of decadence. But in general we see the fading of the power of the stimulus, the coming of a time of repletion, when men are lost in the mass of what has under the influence of the stimulus been accumulated, and in the case of the arts tend to use the skill achieved as an end in itself. We may trace such a course of events in the history of Greek thought. The course of events may be profoundly modified in a multitude of ways by the appearance of a new stimulus and so on. But we may say that such is the inevitable working of the factors upon the formation of tradition, that periods of stagnation, of repletion, and sometimes of decadence tend to occur after periods of sudden advance.
It appears that we should attribute differential fertility, with its possibly serious effect upon the direction of germinal change which marks these periods, rather to the prevalence of apathy than, as Mr. McDougall and others would do, attribute to differential fertility the evidence of decline. For it is the upper classes upon whom the sense of apathy weighs, and it is they who contribute least to future generations. Further, we may remark that decline is not so mysterious a matter as is sometimes suggested. Such complex organizations are vigorous civilizations that, as has been said, ‘the wonderful thing is that they exist at all; what needs explanation is not so much the decay of some, but rather the long persistence of others.’[1698]
In concluding our reference to this matter, we may notice that in recent times, when the working of tradition is known to us in detail, changes can be traced as due to tradition to which the cyclical changes are similar though of greater magnitude. Attention has been drawn to the moulding of tradition in Germany in a particular direction which so powerfully affected the achievement of that race. These events cannot be explained as due in the main to germinal change, though possibly, as observed, the German régime initiated about 1850 may have resulted in the emigration of a certain type of German, and thus in this way germinal change may have played a minor part. So too England during the Boer War was very different to England at the election of 1906, and the difference which was obviously traditional was enough to affect the achievement of the race. In such examples, which could be multiplied indefinitely, we see how the current of tradition may set in one way or another quite apart from germinal changes, and such changes of current may lead, when they hold good over generations, to periods of advance or of decay.
15. There remains to be discussed the importance of tradition in modern differential fertility. It is first necessary to examine rather more closely than has yet been done the manner in which mental characters as manifested are due to tradition, and then to ask how far the particular traditions, to which the upper and lower classes are respectively subject, account for the mental characteristics manifested by them.
As pointed out, it is obvious that the direction in which the intellect works and the degree to which it works are very largely determined by tradition. Thought will be in the primitive or common-sense stage according to the nature of tradition. It is not so obvious that the manifestation of the disposition is equally governed by tradition. The negroes are innately placid, good tempered, and un-self-assertive as compared with white men. Yet Americans constantly complain of the ‘sauciness’ and truculence of the negro. These characters are evidently attributable to the surroundings to which the negroes in America are subject; the manner in which they are looked down upon and the irritating minor restrictions to which they are subject evoke in the negroes a reaction which results in their being called ‘saucy’ and truculent. In other words their disposition is so modified by tradition that, as manifested, it belies their innate characteristics. In an earlier chapter reference was made to the subservience of the Egyptian fellah. In the production of this characteristic a centuries-old tradition of oppression plays a large part, though the elimination of the more self-assertive individuals may have produced a low average level of self-assertiveness. If we compare an English public-school boy with an Egyptian fellah in respect to self-assertiveness and self-reliance, those characters as manifested form no guide to the underlying innate differences. Among the former self-reliance is strongly encouraged, among the latter it is inhibited. But if we compare English public-school boys one with another, and Egyptian fellaheen one with another, then the differences disclosed are to some considerable degree a measure of innate differences, because tradition is more or less equalized. Again, let any one observe the attitude of the British private soldier towards our coloured subjects, or for that matter what he can make of the attitude of the latter towards the English soldier, and he will not be in doubt as to the importance of tradition in producing the attitude of command and its opposite—the tendency to submission.
There is no doubt therefore as to the possibility of tradition affecting profoundly the manifestation of all mental characters. When we compare white with black races in their original home, we have to discount the whole tradition. European races, however, have a considerable amount in common, and when we compare them we have less to discount. When classes within the same race are compared, there is still less to be discounted; they have both European and racial tradition in common; the differences come in at a higher level. Finally, when we compare individuals in the same class, we have only to discount family and individual differences in tradition. It is therefore clear that we have to gain some idea as to the nature of the differences in tradition to which the classes in England at the present day are subject.
16. We have already remarked upon the curious fact that, although the organization of society on organic lines greatly favoured the transmission of tradition, there have come to be large differences in tradition as between the different component elements of society. This we attribute to the fact that in the first place the different component elements specialize in different kinds of skill; the vastness of the mass of tradition makes it impossible for every man to absorb all of it; so far as skill is concerned, each man absorbs that development of it, the specialization in which characterizes his function in society. This may account for differences as between classes with regard to skill, but why, it may be said, should it account for differences in manners, customs, and mode of life? Whatever functions may be performed by the different elements of society, do not the members of all alike now, in any case, enjoy the same privileges, have they not all homes, have they not access to the same interests apart from their professions? Manners and customs differ, and differ so much that a public-school boy finds himself out of his element as a private in a line regiment, and a university man finds it difficult to establish ordinary human relations with the men he meets in a working men’s club such as he establishes without effort when in company of men of his class.
These differences are attributable to the fact that ownership of property has become a function in society. Further, there has come about the reservation to the property-owning class of certain professions—notably the military and the clerical—which, though they do not afford a high rate of remuneration, do afford, as property-owning affords, ample opportunities for leisure. Property owners as a class have had thus both the time and the means to cultivate the art of living. Some of the results are, as all will admit, of value. Some of the results are harmful; but for the most part cultivation of the art of living results in the multiplication of conventions which are neither useful nor harmful, being mere matters of form. The wage-earning class, on the other hand, has neither the time nor the means to elaborate any code of manners. Working long hours for what amounts to little more than a bare subsistence, they could not have evolved such a code of manners nor have they absorbed any considerable part of it. There was no room for it as their lives were lived. Other consequences follow from property-owning. Property-owning is power; in the property-owning class there arises a tradition of self-assertion, a habit of command, whereas in the wage-earning class there arises a tradition of self-abasement and a habit of subservience, traditions and habits so strong as largely to obscure natively given characters. We may note with interest, therefore, that it is on these lines, and not on a theory of germinal differences, that an eminent historian answers the question why military history shows that men of greater age and wider experience will on the field of battle follow to the death a boy of the upper class when they will not follow one of their own class. It may be objected that what has been said scarcely applies to the conditions of the present day and that subservience of the wage-earning class is not very marked at the moment. This is true, but it is a recent change. The reason why the change has come about is surely that the wage-earning class has obtained power and knows it. The change is an illustration of the power of tradition to dominate the outward expression of such important characteristics as assertion or subservience. No one can attribute the difference to germinal change. The wage-earning class has not absorbed the manners and customs of the property-owning class at the same time for a variety of reasons; for one thing they have still little place for such conventions in their lives, and for another thing they tend to regard everything connected with the property-owning class as hostile, while we may also remember that many elements in the upper-class tradition depend for their existence upon the presence of servants.
An insight into the nature of these traditional differences may be gained in rather a different way. Many members of the upper class have attempted to interest themselves in the conditions of life among the less fortunate classes. It is doubtful how far the experience gained in the majority of cases is of value in throwing light upon the problems under consideration. But let any unprejudiced person go and live in the working-class quarter of any large town without any object in view other than to experience the conditions. Under such circumstances the conclusions which grow up in his mind will probably be something of the following nature. To all seeming the innate qualities of the boys and girls, in temperament, disposition, and intellect, are very much what they were in the boys and girls he was at school with or formerly associated with himself. The more intimate his acquaintance becomes with the conditions among which these boys and girls grow up, the more striking seem the peculiarities and limitations of the mental horizon outside of which they have little chance of penetrating compared with that which confronts children of his own class. The dullness and drabness, if there is nothing worse, of a home life in two or three rooms, relieved by what excitement can be found in the smaller streets of a large town, or later by picture palaces or an occasional football match, followed by marriage and the struggle to keep up a home under discouraging circumstances—all these features, which are not appreciated in their full weight until they are, as it were, felt by individual experience, seem adequately to explain the differences between the adults of one class and those of another. Any one who has had such an experience will, on the whole, be rather surprised that more sordidness does not exist, than be inclined to summon the hypothesis of innate inferiority to explain the sordidness that does exist.
17. Profound differences in tradition as between the social classes do therefore exist and, as far as we have gone, they might appear to account for all mental differences manifested; they must in any case account for a considerable part of them. But though we could prolong the discussion on the same lines and produce much evidence tending to the same conclusion, we could reach no precise result. We may go on therefore and ask whether there is any evidence of the existence of innate differences between the classes.
Mere observation of the boys and girls of the different classes does not indicate any differences. But mere observation is not enough. The problem may be approached in two ways. We may notice the results of inquiries made regarding the intelligence of children by modern methods, and we may also ask by what characters those who rise to a higher social status are distinguished, and further what innate differences may be supposed to underlie these apparent differences. The results of inquiries made to test the relative intelligence of children of parents of different social status are fairly uniform. Bridges and Coles, for example, found as the result of such an investigation that ‘there was very considerable dependence of intelligence upon “sociological conditions”’; they go on to say that ‘when children are classified according to the occupations of their fathers, a striking correlation is shown between intelligence quotient and occupation group. Hence if mental age rather than chronological age were used to determine the time for beginning school, the children of the professional group, for example, would begin school two years earlier than the children of the unskilled labour group; for the former mature intellectually much earlier than the latter.’[1699] The interpretation of such observations bristles with difficulties. It is not clear what relation earlier maturity bears to adult intelligence. Though the direct effect of the environment is probably negligible, the possibility that tradition may influence the results is certainly not shut out. Indeed, the fact that the correlation is higher for boys than for girls suggests that tradition does come in. Nevertheless, a consideration of these results suggests that the whole explanation cannot be found in tradition and that we have here a sign of some superiority of intelligence in the children of parents of a higher social status. More than that cannot be said.
18. Let us approach the question in another way. Can we discover any characteristics distinctive of those who succeed in modern society, who rise, as it is called, from the ranks of the wage-earning classes, and, if we can, what these characters are and how far we must assume the existence of innate differences to account for them? We may think of the upper social classes in England to-day as falling roughly into three divisions—the professional and the business classes and those whose fathers, grandfathers, or more remote ancestors came into possession of property by one means or another. In the case of a small proportion of the latter class, the position was won under conditions which differ more or less profoundly from these ruling to-day. This section is a small section, and we need not further consider it here. A large proportion of the so-called upper classes have attained their position under the conditions which now exist, or their forefathers have attained it under conditions which did not greatly differ from them. What characteristics are they, which, when manifested under these conditions, lead to success?
It has often been assumed that intellect is the chief factor in success. This assumption is not only made in ordinary conversation when a reference to the career of a successful man in any line is almost certain to be followed by the comment that ‘he must be a very clever fellow’ but in serious contributions to the problem. This assumption is certainly wrong. There are many elements in character which contribute more largely to success than the intellectual, such as capacity for work, energy, ambition, desire to dominate, tact, and so on. Furthermore, success in a profession is, to an almost as great an extent as success in business, attributable to such characteristics. Few more remarkable things—remarkable in being in conflict with ideas as commonly preconceived—are learnt from observation and experience than the length to which such characteristics in favourable association can carry a man even in the strictly learned professions where it might be supposed that intellect alone would carry off the prizes. There can be no doubt that those elements in character which are most important as regards success are such as we must attribute to differences in disposition and temperament rather than in intellect so far as we can attribute them at all to innate differences.
This is essentially what we want to know—what innate differences do exist. We have, when trying in the first place to fix upon the outwardly existing characteristics, to remember that tradition may give powerful twists and turns—sometimes of a desirable and sometimes of an undesirable nature—to the simpler characteristics mentioned above, such as ambition. In the business world, for example, the successful man is from many points of view the man who gets his head above the heads of other people, who gets more out of other people than they get out of him. But are we to imagine that there is something in him which impels him so to act with regard to his fellow men, or are we to imagine that the simpler characteristics of ambition and love of power lead to such conduct under the guidance of a particular tradition without any definite desire on his part or even perhaps without any clear realization as to what it is precisely that he is doing? The second explanation is that which best fits the facts. It seems clear that, as tradition changes in the course of years, the activities of the energetic ambitious men are led this way and that. At present no doubt to a certain degree they are led in the direction of ‘pushfulness’—by what M. Faguet has called ‘le goût d’arrivisme’. It is always dangerous to read into the activities of men the working of particular innate characteristics. Few things in history perhaps have been as harsh as the conduct of the generation which devised the game laws, and yet these very men did not merely quote the classics with unbounded enthusiasm but were also moved by genuine sympathy and altruism to abolish slavery, the horrors of which were known to them only by report. We should refrain, therefore, from deducing from the activities of the successful men and of the upper classes more than the presence of those simpler characteristics mentioned above as leading to positions of pre-eminence over other men.
These simpler characteristics are in themselves very complex manifestations of many elements, of which tradition is one. But in the case of this particular problem, as we are considering rise from a lower to a higher social status, tradition cannot be held to be the cause of the differences. There are, in fact, unquestionably innate differences in temperament and disposition which underlie the characteristics leading to success, and the temperamental differences which have been curiously neglected are probably the most important and form perhaps half the secret of success. Among the temperamental characteristics leading to success we may note low degree of fatiguability, high power of recuperation, rapidity of response, hopeful nature, vigour, energy, and healthy nervous tone. Among the characteristics of disposition we may note similarly the instincts of self-assertion, of emulation, and of acquisition. The power of forming habits is probably also a considerable aid to success under modern conditions.
What part does intellect play? Judging from the fact that it is certainly an aid to success, though not so powerful a factor as is usually thought, we may conclude that there is some, probably a slight, difference in intellectual capacity between the classes. Intellect, when it accompanies success, is rather more in the nature of an incidentally favourable factor than of a primary cause of success. The powerful instinct of self-assertion will make itself felt; its possessor will probably arrive somewhere; a powerful intellect may, in the absence of, or rather with the inadequate development of, other innate qualities, not advance its possessor’s position in the world.
But though considerations based upon a testing of intelligence on the one hand and upon an analysis of qualities leading to success on the other do without question lead to the conclusion that there are differences in innate qualities as between the successful and the unsuccessful, there are grounds for thinking, for the reasons mentioned above, that the differences between the classes are not large. For we must remember that, so far from the lower classes being drained of men of certain qualities, a very small proportion of the men of these classes is ever enabled to set out on the path leading to success in business or in a profession. Also we must not forget, when considering success, the part played by fortunate accidents under complex modern conditions—mere chance happenings which, altering the whole course of a man’s life, may determine whether he is successful or unsuccessful. Again, there is little or no relapse worth speaking of into the lower classes when once a status is gained. Such is the influence of place and status that for the most part, whatever may be the innate qualities, the descendants of men who won their way upwards maintain their position. Therefore the regression to the mean which is always at work must tend to lessen such innate differences as exist between the classes.
19. Lastly, there is a very difficult problem the existence of which must not be forgotten inasmuch as it affects in the most fundamental manner the judgement to be passed on the meaning of these differences. We have to ask what is the value of the differences which exist. Success alone cannot be taken as an indication of the value of the characters exhibited by the successful. There can indeed be no doubt that, other things being equal, a decrease in the average intellect would be an unfortunate thing. Similarly we may regard those temperamental qualities which were indicated as leading to success as on the whole of value. But it cannot be affirmed without more consideration that all temperamental qualities which distinguish the successful are desirable, and more particularly that a further development of the instincts of self-assertion, acquisition, and emulation would be desirable under present circumstances; it may even be that we might view a diminution in the average strength of some of the qualities which mark the successful at least with equanimity. The instincts of acquisition and self-assertion were of great value in the past, highly indeed as mankind has paid for the careers of men markedly endowed with these qualities. But, with the present stage of social evolution in Europe in mind, should it not be said that the instinct of acquisition when developed above the average is on the whole harmful, and may it not be that self-assertion is likely to be a source of difficulty in any form of co-operative commonwealth, and to some form of co-operation as replacing or modifying competition we seem to be tending.
We may see this whole problem of value in another light if we ask what it is that we value in the men of our race. Latterly we have had reason to dwell upon the qualities which we feel to characterize the men of our race at their best. Are they not self-respect together with modesty, tenacity together with tenderness? Any one who has served in the ranks of the army is not likely to allow that these qualities are on the whole less developed in the classes from which the ranks of the army are usually filled than in the rest of the nation. In this connexion we should perhaps remember that a sense of comradeship in facing the elemental facts of existence without material wealth may provide an impetus to the expression of these qualities, whereas an absorption in the less immediate necessities of life may militate against their expression. To the degree to which this is so, we should, when trying to estimate the innate capacities in the different classes, make the necessary allowances—in the case of the so-called upper classes for the circumstances adverse to the expression of these qualities and in the case of the so-called lower classes for circumstances which on the whole perhaps favour their expression. However this may be, we feel that these qualities are the most valuable which our race has produced and that upon their preservation and upon greater opportunities for their expression depends our best hope for the future. He would be a bold man, however, who suggested that the possession of these qualities in more than average amount was a characteristic of the successful. The same may be said of good taste, good manners, and of other qualities which, to say the least of them, contribute to the amenities of life.
It is at least apparent how difficult a problem is the judgement to be passed on the effects of modern differential fertility. There are grounds for thinking that those who see in differential fertility the cause of the cyclical course of civilization both over-estimate the results and neglect certain aspects of the changes involved. Differential fertility is not a factor to be disregarded; the results which it is now producing demand the most careful investigation. Nevertheless, so far as our knowledge extends, we should view it rather as the result than as the cause of the cyclical course of history—the course which historical changes take being due primarily to changes in tradition. This conclusion is in harmony with all that has been said in this chapter as to the relative importance of change in tradition and of change in the germinal constitution. From the first period in history changes in tradition have come to override changes in the germinal constitution; the latter form of change is far from being negligible, but it is a contributory rather than a fundamental cause of the events of history.
XXII
CONCLUSION
1. An attempt has been made to trace the origin of problems of population from their source and to indicate their nature and interdependence. They have been traced back to man’s place in nature. The ancestors of man must at one time have been subject to the same conditions as those to which all species in a state of nature are subject. These conditions were investigated, and it was shown that fecundity is in the main determined by the sum of all the dangers to which the young of any species are exposed—allowance being made for the fact that a certain proportion of ova will not be fertilized. It was also shown that change or history—if history can be spoken of in this connexion—is due to germinal change alone, and it was further indicated how it may be supposed that germinal change comes about. The early stages in the moving away of the pre-human ancestor from these conditions elude our inquiry, though certain deductions may be made as to the main outline of what happened. For evidence as to the latter stages, until we reach historical times, we are chiefly dependent upon the method of using our knowledge of existing primitive races as throwing light upon prehistoric races.
2. Problems of population fall under two main headings, problems of quantity and problems of quality. But all problems of population are interwoven one with another and the method of solving any quantitative problem bears upon the quality of population. Thus the methods of regulating quantity affect quality by influencing germinal change, and in the later periods of history growth in quantity affects quality by its influence upon tradition. No one problem should be considered without reference to its bearing both upon quantity and quality. At the present day, for instance, differential fertility is almost always considered solely from the point of view of quality; it is forgotten that the reduction in the birth-rate may be that which economic conditions demand and that it may of necessity have to begin among the upper classes. Though, therefore, differential fertility by producing unfavourable germinal changes is to be to that degree deplored, yet we have to remember that, so far as quantity is concerned, failure to meet economic requirements might be a much greater misfortune.
3. As regards quantitative problems we saw that from the first period of history onwards—from the time, that is to say, that it began to be possible for man to reap the benefits of co-operation—it was of the utmost importance for every group to approximate to the optimum number. This is the number which—taking into consideration the nature of the environment, the degree of skill employed, the habits and customs of the people concerned, and all other relevant facts—gives the highest average return per head. This number is not fixed once and for all. On the contrary it is constantly varying as the conditions referred to vary, and, as skill has tended to increase throughout history, so has the number economically desirable tended to increase. The errors underlying the wholly different exposition given by Malthus have been indicated; for him there was no such thing as over-population. In his view population had at any one time increased up to the possible limit and was in process of being checked. In the modern view numbers may approximate to the desirable level, may not reach it, or they may exceed it, and if either of two latter positions arise, the return per head will not be as high as it might be.
The quantitative problem presents itself to all races at all times. There is no escaping it. The common notion that it only presents itself at certain times and in certain places is based upon a failure to grasp the strength of fecundity. Almost without exception those factors, which incidentally restrict increase and produce elimination, are insufficient so to reduce fertility as to keep numbers down to the optimum level. There thus arises the need for factors which directly restrict fertility and cause elimination; among primitive races these factors take the form of abortion, infanticide, and prolonged abstention from intercourse. There is no correlation between these factors and the economic stage reached, and therefore we have no grounds for assuming any one factor to have been prevalent at any one stage in pre-history, though we must assume that one or more of these factors was always at work. This assumption is confirmed by the fact that, whenever we can catch sight of the emergence of prehistoric races into the light of history, we find one or other of these factors to have been present. Further there is every reason to suppose that normally such of these factors as are in use are effective and that therefore in the first and second periods of history some approximation to the optimum number was normally attained.
The third period is in many respects different from those that preceded it. In the first place the number desirable has been constantly increasing, so much so that increasing numbers are taken as being a normal feature of human society whereas, in fact, numbers throughout human history as a whole have been stationary. It may be that we are nearing a time when numbers will be again normally stationary, for though increase may remain economically desirable, it may cease to be so from a wider point of view of human welfare, when, that is to say, facts other than income per head are taken into account. In the second place there have been frequent failures to attain to the optimum number owing to the many disturbing influences at work. Chief among them are the fluctuations in the number desirable, the erratic action of certain causes of elimination, such as war and disease, and migrations.
Regarding the quantitative problem as a whole, it is evident that the necessity of solving it has had the most profound effect upon all societies at all times. It bears directly upon the relation between the sexes—around which so largely centres human welfare—and upon the most intimate and most valued aspects of the life of every adult—those connected with the family. In the past the solution has been unconsciously or semi-consciously achieved; it has now come within the power of mankind after a due consideration of the position deliberately to decide what the best solution may be.
4. Turning now to the problems of quality, we found that change among species in a state of nature, and therefore among our pre-human ancestors, was due to germinal change alone. Just as man has moved away from the position in which all species in a state of nature are situated as regards quantity, so he has moved away from the position in which they are placed as regards quality. Human history, in other words, is not explicable as due to germinal change alone. Tradition becomes a factor of ever-increasing importance; the direct influence of the environment also assumes a greater importance than among species in a state of nature, though it remains relatively insignificant compared with changes in tradition and changes in the germinal constitution. Germinal change, however, retains almost its full importance so far as permanent changes in physical characters are concerned.
We have seen that physical characters as presented to us are the expression of the interaction between certain germinal predispositions and a certain environment, and that, disease apart, such variations as usually occur in the environment do not in any notable manner affect these characters. Tradition does not enter directly into the expression of physical character; it alters the environment, it is true, but that is another matter. Nevertheless when we come to investigate the smaller differences, such as those which are found as between members of different classes in a modern community, the greatest caution is necessary before the differences in the environment are ruled out as contributory factors in producing these differences. Broadly speaking, we may say that differences in stature, eye colour, eyesight, muscular power, and so on, are all, though in varying degrees, because different organs vary in their susceptibility to environmental differences, expressions of germinal differences. It follows that, so far at least as physical characters are concerned, the germinal constitution is of primary importance. Disease due to parasites is a question apart. The parasites might be eliminated, or conceivably preventive medicine might render susceptibility to disease of little account. Disease due to structural defects must be classed with other physical characters and, whether it be that we are considering health (immunity from parasitic disease excepted), stature, eye colour, or any other physical character, it is to the germinal constitution that we must look as the factor of chief importance.
It is not, however, of changes in physical characters but of changes in mental characters of which we think when we ask what it is that has caused those events the recording of which is the province of historians. There are three factors to be considered, germinal change, traditional change, and the direct effect of the environment, which latter factor we may pass over, merely recalling that it can at times—as in the case of chronic disease affecting at one time a large proportion of the inhabitants of a country—appreciably retard progress. It is never in the true sense a cause of progress. In thus relegating the direct effect of the environment to a very subsidiary place among the factors, we are not dismissing the environment as of little account in human history or in the lives of individual men and women. Though the direct effect of the environment on the germinal constitution is seldom clearly distinguished from its effect in moulding tradition, yet it is wholly distinct; and in fact, while attributing to the former little importance, we have found the latter to be of increasing importance until it comes altogether to dominate germinal change.
Nevertheless when this distinction is realized and an unbiased effort made to estimate the relative importance of these factors, it seems that the position is often curiously misunderstood. It is frequently suggested that the achievement of our race in the future and of mankind in general will somehow depend principally upon the course of germinal change, and that it is in the lives of men at the present day or at any given time that environment in its bearing upon tradition is of importance. But this is a misconception of the position. Bearing in mind the discussions in former chapters as to what is inherited and as to the direct influence of the environment, let us ask wherein the importance of germinal differences is to be sought, first as between men at the present day and afterwards in history as a whole. With regard to physical characteristics it is clear that, disease apart, men are what they are owing principally to their native endowment. Whether a man is tall or short, dark or fair, has blue or brown eyes, or what is, apart from the possibility of a correlation between these and more valuable characters, of more importance, whether he is healthy, vigorous, strong, endowed with good eyesight and hearing, in short with a sound constitution—this is a matter principally of native endowment, supposing the differences in the environment not to exceed those which now on the average occur. And the same applies to mental characters with an allowance made for the marked degree of susceptibility which temperament exhibits to changes in the environment. Whether a man has more than the average degree of intellect, is markedly assertive, pugnacious, or inquisitive, is capable of withstanding or recovering from fatigue, depends upon his native endowment. But it is at the same time true that achievement is in very large degree governed by tradition. This is true if the criterion of achievement is an historical criterion, as, for instance, when a man of one race is compared with another man of the same race belonging to a different epoch or when a man of one race is compared with a man of another race. It is not true when the comparison is made between two men of the same class within the same race because within classes in a race tradition is more or less equalized. And where tradition is equalized, there achievement is a measure of innate endowment, and it is within a class usually so equalized that at any given time the outward manifestation of mental characters is nearly as much a measure of native endowment as are those of physical characters. Therefore not what a man achieves as judged by historical standards, not whether his thought will follow primitive or common-sense lines, is dependent upon his endowment, but what he will make of the tradition of his time—his performance, in other words, compared with that of men around him.
Achievement, therefore, as judged historically, is in very large measure to be explained as due to the influence of the environment upon the origin and transmission of tradition. Up to a certain stage, however, and, when the whole of human history is taken into account, up to a late stage, achievement was in the main dependent upon germinal change. But this late stage is anterior by many thousands of years to the beginning of history in the usual meaning of that term. Beginning not later than the last period of the Palaeolithic, the explanation of the course of events is in the main to be sought not in germinal change but in the influence of environment upon tradition. The importance of germinal change in the later stages is by no means negligible. Germinal change, however, was not so much the cause of the course which events followed as a consequence of these events. The effect reacted upon the cause and accelerated the process. Finally when considering the latest phase of history—the latest phase, that is to say, when taking a broad view—we reach the following conclusion. We find that the great acceleration of the rate of progress which characterizes the history of the period is to be explained, not by a change in quality, but by the growth in quantity of the population which, though it does not of necessity lead to, is the indispensable condition precedent to, the breakdown of the segmentary organization of society and to the rise of the organic type of social organization. This is the paradox of the population problem. Change among species in a state of nature is based upon germinal change alone; change among our pre-human ancestors was equally a matter of change in the quality of population; but the explanation of the most outstanding fact in recent history broadly viewed is to be sought in a change in quantity rather than in quality of population.
The explanation of the course of events since late Palaeolithic times as due to tradition on the lines indicated in the last chapter is in general satisfactory, provided that on the one hand allowance is made for the fact that differences in race do imply differences in mental and moral qualities, which arising on the whole together with changes in tradition, reinforce the tendency to change along certain lines, and that on the other hand apparently chance happenings do give turns and twists to the course of events. The reconciliation of this latter phenomenon with the general trend of the argument is not difficult. Under certain conditions the death or even the indisposition of some prominent man or the whim of a powerful minister may appear to divert the course of events. Nevertheless in reality such events have only a passing effect and do not obscure the broad workings of the factors we have indicated.
The relation of the innate qualities to tradition may be illustrated by the use of a metaphor. Tradition may be likened to some vast structure which mankind is building. Each generation adds a few bricks to the structure. The part of the building to which any one man contributes, whether it is to the ground floor or to one of the upper stories, wholly depends upon the race and epoch to which he belongs; so too does for the most part the kind of brick he will lay and the methods he will employ in laying it. His contribution to the structure is governed by the plan of the building as elaborated by previous generations and by the bricks they have prepared and the methods of laying them they have introduced. But in any generation whether a man will lay a brick at all or whether he will do it energetically and intelligently as compared with his fellow-workers will depend upon the innate qualities with which he is endowed.
Our conclusion therefore must be something after this kind. Those who base upon germinal change their hopes for the physical condition of the human race in the future are building upon sound foundations. However much our power to control and regulate vital processes may increase—and it is clearly upon the verge of a very great increase—in the end a satisfactory physical condition can only be the product of a certain germinal constitution. On the other hand, those who think that germinal change in mental characters will effect the evolution of society and mould the course of history are upon the whole mistaken. The course of history is in the main dependent upon changes in tradition which are for the most part independent of germinal change. Just as the outstanding happenings in the last century—the turning of thought and conduct in Germany, for example, along certain lines, which ended in so great a catastrophe—were due to changes in tradition and not to changes in the germinal constitution, so whether the problems now pressing upon European society are to be solved or whether some greater catastrophe, reaching a climax in a long course of years or bursting suddenly upon us, is to be the outcome, will depend upon changes in tradition and not upon germinal change. The reason for this lies in the fact that the vast accumulation of tradition overlays the outward expression of mental character, determines the direction of intellectual activity and moulds the expression of the instinctive faculties. But as far as tradition is equalized, so far do innate mental differences manifest themselves as between man and man, and since tradition is more or less equalized, if not within races, at least within classes in the same race, to that degree is mental endowment of pre-eminent importance to the individual.
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The population problemChapter XV: , does enable us in the main to understand how the physical (7)
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