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New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, June 08, 1910, Image 8

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Literary JVetvs and Criticism
A Sheaf of Books for the Sum
"v- Traveller.
BET ££ SttFJSSVt
raya & Co. ■* v
IN \D OUT OF FLORENCE. A new
IrtroductSon to a Well Known City By
\i mw Vernor With many Illustrations
from drawings by Maud L&nktree, and
trots photographs, Sac. pp. xiii. ST«
Henry Holt & Co.
EICILT. THE r.ARTEN OF THE MEDI
TERRANEAN. The History. People, in
stitutions and Geography of the Island.
Sv WTO -: Monroe. Illustrated, too.
r p. xviiU 403. Boston: 1.. C. Pace & Co.
THE SHIP DWELLERS. A Story of ■
. Happy Cruise. By Albert Bigelow Paine.
With ' Illustrations from Drawings by
Thomas Focarty and from photographs.
Sve. pp. viiT R. Harper & Bros
THE MEDITERRANEAN CRUISE. De
scribing All Mediterranean Points
T tually Visited in a Winter's Cruise in
Europe, Asia and Africa. Compiled by
Bruce MiHard. Illustrated chiefly from
Oiiginal photographs. 12m0..pp. ill. «*.
i». P. Putnam's Pons.
This is. of .course. th«" time of year
when the book of travel comes into Its
own. Man cannot live by Baedeker
alone when he sets nut to cross the
«-*af inexhaustible though the beat of
all guidebooks may be. and he will al
ways welcome the pages which .promise
i,, give him something like an initia
tion into the spirit of a driven country.
Time was when this initiation was wont
to be offered In terms of preciosity.
Nowadays the author of a travel book
i* nothing if not practical. Mr. Mii
toun> "Italian Highways and Byways"
ft- fa pood specimen of the modern popu
lar volume meant to be at once enter
taining and useful.
He knows his history well enough, and
the auto'mobilißt who follows in his trail
will not miss th* things that are worth
?«>»in£-» But this author does not take
his subject too seriously. He finds plenty
■ff time in which to talk to the point
not only about Italy, but about th*>
Italians* their manners, their food, their
inn*, and po on • In other words, he Is
lively and companionable, just the friend
for a traveller who wants to be advised
without HPntimentaiity. Incidentally.
Mr. Miltoun is willing, on occasion, to
bring in an anecdote. Here is one
apropos of the Forum:
♦'emmendator* Bonl, who ha*- charge of
1 ft* wxfavatlons. brought to light recently
■ .urlously inscribed stone tablet, which.
rainc to the archaic Latin it contained, he
♦-••jnd it impossible to read. A number ot
Varr.td LatiniFts; and archarxilociMS soon
£* t.^ered about Mm. This is what they
rea4:
QITE
STAELA VI
A
I'K'tT.T.v SINI.
''t'hile torn*- declared that "que" was an
< n- lit i-~ conjunction, and that therefore th.?
ii f<-ript:on must be incomplete, other* ««-
K>r«e<J that the word was aji abbreviation
*<i "queo."' and that the- inscription might
bt read: -i am ante to gaae upon the star
vi'.hout pain." .
While th* dispute wv on » peasant «r
the Campania passed by. He approached
and aeked the reason of tn~ crowd. He
«-«{. ,M. «nd gazing «♦ the inscription for
fpveral minutes i,- r«>ad slowly:
"Questa *■ 1" via itegii a^ini" ("This ■
■»h»» aay ri f aspes"V •
And tn«= l-atlnist;=. th* ard-i.roingiFti? and
ih* other savans crept quietly away. wnil«»
th«- fVmmfßdatiTo. in good. modern Tus
can, made mum* remarks unprimar.!* and
iiitrans-latab'e.
The hrieM and pwiwnt quality of Mr.
Miltoun's <«"xi donga also to the illur
irationf= Hy Miss UcManus. These, in
Mack and whito. and in colors, are very
«~kverly drawn.
The author of "In ;tnd Out of Flor
ence" describes not only a city but a
persons! experience therein. We arc
not Mir* but that the biographical por
tion cf his book hi the best. He and his
wife appear to have visited Florence in
z» mood of tremendous enthusiasm for its
; rt and beauty, and then to have settled*
fjonn to make their home there for some
rjonths. interesting themselves no less
in housekeeping than in the exploration
of churches and picture pallerk'S. They
round f little villa at Scttignano. It
was not by any means one of the more
r« splendent villas; there was nothing
cbout it even remotely to suggest the
Khow place; but it was comfortable it
liau 0 lovely garden, and unmistakably
these two American occupants lived a
ficlightful life with their flowers and
their kindiy servants. Bo charming is
Hi Veroon's account of their estab
liEhment and its surroundings that it
■•right legitimately have been mad<>
loneer and set to stand by itself. How
«-vrr. v. gather that his plan was to
■n rite a book about Florence, and this he
has don*» very creditably, rapidly nar
v*>y)ng its monuments and giving the
r*-z;d*r a serviceable idea as ♦'• where to
find the salient buildings and the more
important works of painting and sculpt
ure. A chapter toward the close sketches
s !>%• pf tbe profitable excursions to be
ir.xrir In he neighborhood of Florence.
The illustrations are excellent. Some
are from pen drawings, hut there are
more halftones Tram photographs.
Mr. Monroe's "Sicily" is an admirable
rnork of the matter-of-fact sort. It. is
bated on a -winter's travel through the
lrlend and on sony 1 study of the litera
ture of bis subject. It is not in the
suthor's impressions so much as it is in
his etore of facts that we find him worth
while. As a collector of information he
is notably industrious, and the fruits of
his research are pet forth in a clear.
workmanlike manner. Hi recites his
historical passages with no attempt at
fine writing, and in the long run this
makes him. of course* only the more in
teresting. The chapters which bring the
subject down from Sicilian origins to the
exploits «t <sariba!di and the conditions
cf the present <j a y provide, indeed, just'
■what the general reader requires. This
ran of his task once disposed of, he
m rites effectively of educational and eco
r.orrtio topics, of Sicilian literature, music
and art. *Mai portrays with fair vivid
ness the chief points of interest. There
are many good halftones from photo
graphs in the book and there is a useful
TOP p.
in his boyhood Mr. Paine read Mark
Twain's "Innocents Abroad," and it lired
him with an ambition to follow in the
author's footsteps. Years later he came
im rc-aiize something of his childhood's
£xean£ and In "The Ship Dwellers" he
■"'.ls v* all about it. He tells us. per
rr-|TT too much, but the vein in which
he writes presently beguiles ut! into good
humored acceptance of his somewhat
centimental interest in little things, and
;ij, we go on are <nt*r with abundant
f-'j n-.jiathy into his enjoyment of all that
he saw at Geiiva. and at Malta, at Con
stantinople ana in the Holy Land, and
among? the monuments of ancient Egypt.
Mr. Paine is not a professional humorist
'n this book, but he takes all of his ex
periences with a smile, Bad on many of
Ills'- psfres there 'are touches like the fol
!<r»'lnsr: "I am not a gifted person; 1
cannot -write about existing places and
things without aactaa; them, and I am
%fraid to Eteal from the guidebook—un
mtelU^eutly. I mean." * Obviously. Mr L
Paine has caught something of Mark
Twain's way. But there is nothing Imi
tative about him. This is, on the con
trary, an almost artlessly frank narra
tive of the author's own sensations and
delights. It makes very pleasant read-
Ins;. There are halftones In it from
photographs' of some of the scenes and
buildings visited, but the illustrations
also Include some . sprightly sketches
fitted to the more personal side of the
book. '
"The Mediterranean Cruise" is a guide
book pure and simple, Close packed with
Information arranged with careful ref
erence to the practical needs of the trav
eller. For a volume* not at all bulky it
Ik wonderfully comprehensive. It con
tains a number of excellent illustrations
in halftone
MISCELLANY.
An eighth volume of Mr. Justin Mc-
Carthy's "History of Our Own Times"
is now In preparation. This will cover
the who!» of the reign of the late King
Kdward.
The Confederate general, Basil W.
Duke, is just completing a volume of
reminiscences. It will be published by
Doubleday. Page & Co.
' We may expect, some months hence,
much interesting matter from the pen
of Mr. W. D. Howells. It is stated that
for Mi present journey to Europe he hag
fitted up a stateroom as a workshop,
where he can write in peace and seclu
sion during the voyage.
M. Paul Bourget. we are told, has
taken as a part of the plot of his new
no\el. »'La dame gui a perdu son
peintre," the incidents of _ the Rokeby
Velasquez and' of Dr. Bode's "Leonardo"
bust. The story, which Is said to-be
full of humor, is that of two pictures,
one of which meets th«» fate of the
'"Venus." while the other suffers the lot
of tlic "FltJra."
Cormell Price, the headmaster of the
United Services College, to whom Mr.
Kipling dedicated his "Stalky & C 0.."
has died at the age of seventy-four. He
was of the finest type of Englishman—
how wise, how Just, how generous and
how humorous the readers of that book
may guess. He was the constant friend
of his most famous pupil and very
proud of him. "I remember very well
betas present (more than twenty years
ago).*' writes one of his associates, "at
one of the fortnightly debates at the
old 'Coll*— It was affectionately
dabbed — when the 'Head' gave, as his
contribution to the evening's proceed
ings, « reading from a slim paper-cov
ered volume which was. 1 suspect, un
known to any of his audience. He pref
aced that reading by remarking, "I think
you boys will be interested in the story
1 am going to read; it is by one of your
own schoolfellows, whom some of you
here will, ot, course, remember. I vent
ure to prophesy for him a distinguished
place among our beet writers. Perhaps
you guess to whom I refer; it Is young
Kipling.' "
Price was in early days an intimate of
William Morris, and the artist once
modelled his head. It is told in illustra
tion of Morris's furious rages that this
clay head was never finished, because,
whenever he grew impatient, he flew at
it and smashed It up.
The latest edition of the "Arabian
Nights" is a very beautiful one, the first
section of which has just been issued in
Paris. The new translation by Dr. J. c.
Madras is set on each page within bor
ders of arabesques in monochrome, and
the stories are illustrated with repro
ductions of Persian Illuminations from
Dr. Madrus's collection.
King Edward, it is said, much enjoyed
the work of George Meredith, particu
larly "The Egoist." He had certain
convictions as to modern literature. "I
hope you won't read those bonks. No
woman I respect reads them," he said,
putting bis band -upon the hand of a
lady who was pausing in her choice
fr<>ni a heap of modern problem novels
on the table of a private house. S<> says
"Thf Sketch '
The late m Jules Renard, author of
the charming "Poil-de-Carotte," is men
tioned as one of the few French men of
letters who really hated the life of cities.
He buried himself in the country, at
Corbigny. and became the Mayor of the
village. As a boy lie was of more
strenuous tastes. He once wrote:
For a long time 1 wanted to en to Paris
and earn my living. But my mother was
opposed to my departure, and she kept a
strict watch on me, fearing that I would
lea* •■ home without her permission. Every
morning, as I got up before she, did. .she
listened for the sound of my footsteps. If
she heard my sabots she said to herself:
"Hp can't go very far." But if she beard
me walking about iii my boots 'she would
cry anxiously from her bed. "Where arc
you going, with your boots on? It is
neither a holiday nor the day of the fair."
1 replied: "Mother. I am going to the
plough, an<; • put on my boots because it's
raining; and my sabots would stick in the
mud." And I dared not leave home that
day. One. morning, however. I left the
farm with my boots under my arm. at the
same time making a lot of noise with ray
sabots. Pom» distance from the village T
took off my sabots and threw them over
the hedge of a little field belonging to my
mot! Then I put on my boots and con
tinued my way toward Paris. When my
mother, took the cow to the field she found
my sabots. At first she did not understand.
Hut when she called me and 1 did not an
swer she returned to the house and re-
Kan to search for my boots. W|ien she
was tired of looking for them she slat down
In a corner of th*» chimney and cried a
long time.
It was in 1770 that Sheridan began his
career in theatrical management at
Drury I.ane. Not long afterward he
sent this note, with a ' manuscript, to
William Chetwynd, "Examiner of all
Entertainments of the Stage": "Sir — If
the following comedy, called 'The School
for Scandal,' meet the approbation of
the Lord Chamberlain, we shall have it
performed at the Theatre Royal, In
Drury Lane, May 7th, 1777. R. B. Sheri
dan." (m the 17th of this month, at
Sotheby's, in London, this manuscript
will be put up at auction. Of it the
"London Dally Telegraph" says:
This rare relic was once, indeed, nearly
destroyed by. fire, having been sent to the
binders in 1534 by Sir. George Chetwynd.
the examiner's grandson, when the prem
ises of Pairburn, the binder, were burned
down. Some of the 137 pages of manu
script show the marks of scorching, other
uiae. in the rich russla binding tooled with
the Chetwynd arms, the precious document
i- complete. It hap been suggested that
Sheridan was in such a hurry that he act
tally wrote portions of the play during Its
flr>t performance. Tin state of the manu
script disproves tl is. The comedy Is com
plete, with epilogue and prologue as well.
Moreover, it Is certain that it is the Identi
cal copy sent for license, and found with
many other manuscript plays among Will
lam Chetwynd'e papers at bis death In 1778.
Again, it contains Sheridan's alterations,
notably the combining of the character part
Of Ml.*? Verjuice 5 with that of Lady Sneer
well. Sheridan's letter quoted above ac
companies th.- play, along with a certifi
.a'.- of authenticity written by Sir George
«"hetv. on - !>tember 1<», 1&3 I. in which
the quaintly v! >■■( statement Is made: "This
Is the identical copy of 'The School for
Scandal' which was transmitted by a Mr.
Sheridan to my grandfather, William diet-.
jwynd.' - — — — — ~ '
XEW-YOHK DAILY TIUBrXE. WEDNESDAY, JUNE & 1010.
THE WORLD'S '
DEVELOPMENT
Biological Analogies of History Set Forth by
Mr. Roosevelt in Romanes Lecture.
ADVANCE IN ETHICAL STANDARDS
— — — — —
Precepts Laid Down for the Conduct of L Nations — Ex-
President Refers to Abuses in the Body Politic.
The Romanes lecture delivered at Ox
ford University yesterday by ex-Presi
dent Roosevelt follows:
An American who in response to such an
invitation as I have received speaks 5n this
university of ancient renown cannot but feel
with peculiar vividness the interest and
charm of his surroundings, fraught as they
are with a thousand associations. Your
great universities and all the memories
that make them great are living realities
in the minds of scores of thousands of men
who have never seen them and who dwell
across the seas in other lands. Moreover,
these associations are no stronger in the
men of English stock, than in those who
are not. My people have been for eight
generations in America; but in one thing
I am like the Americans of to-morrow
rather than like many of the Americans of
to-day, for I have in my veins the blood of
men who came from many different Euro
pean races The ethnic make-up of our peo
ple is slowly changing. so that constantly
the -race tend? to become more and more
akin to that of those Americans who, like
myself, are of the old stock, but not mainly
of English stock. Yet I think that as time
£, c : by mutual respect, understanding and
sympathy among the English speaking peo
ples grow greater and not less. Any of my
ancestor?, Hollander or Huguenot, Scotcn
man or Irishman, who had come to Oxford
in "the spacious days of great Elizabeth"
would have felt far more alien than I. their
descendant, now feel. Common heirship m
the things of the spirit makes a closer bond
than common heirship in the things of the
body.
! Comparisons of Past and Present.
More than ever before in the world's his
tory ire of to-day seek to penetrate the
j causes of the mysteries that surround not
, only mankind but all life, both in the pres
i ent and the past. We search, we peer. We
see things dimly : here, and there wo get a
ray of clear vision as we look before and
! after. •We study the tremendous proces
• sion of the ages from the immemorial past,
when in "cramp elf and saurian forms" th •
creative forces "swathed their too much
rower," down to the yesterday, a few score
thousand years distant only, when the his
tory of man became the eveiwhelmlng fact
in the history of life on this planet; and,
I studying, we see strange analogies in the
! phenomena of life and death, of birth,
' growth and change, between those physical
groups of animal life which we designate
;as specie?, forms, races, and the highly
I complex and composite entities which rise
before our mliiris when we speak of* nations
I and civilizations.
. The Advance of Science-
It is this study which has given science
■ it? present day prominence. In the world
of intellect doubtless the most marked feat-
I ur< in the history of the past century have
been the extraordinary advances In sden
; tine knowledge and investigation and in the
I position held by the men of science with
I reference to those engaged in other pursuits.
I am not now speaking of applied science
of the science, for instance, which, having
revolutionized transportation 'on the earth
and the water, is now on the brink of car
rying it into the air: of the science that
finds its expression in such extraordinary
achievements as the telephone and the tele
graph; of the sciences which have so ac
celerated the velocity of movement in so
cial and industrial conditions — for the
! changes in the mechanical appliances of
j ordinary life during the last three genera
tions have been greater than In all the pre
ceding generations since history dawned. I
speak of the science which has no more di
rect bearing upon the affairs of our every
day life than' literature or music painting
or sculpture, poetry or history. A hundred
years ago the ordinary man of cultivation
had to know something of these last sub
jects; but the probabilities were rather
against his having any but the most super
ficial scientific knowledge. At present all
this baa changed, thanks to the. interest
! taken in scientific discoveries, the large cir-
Culation of scientific books ;tnd the rapidity
with which idea* originating among stu
dents of the most advanced and abstruse
sciences become, at least partially, domi
; ciled in the popular mind.
The Tendency Toward Exactness.
Another feature of the change^ of the
growth in the position of science in the
eyes of every one and of the greatly in
creased respect naturally resulting for sci
entific methods, has-been a certain tendency
among scientific students to encroach on
other fields. This is particularly true of
the field of historical study. Not only
have scientific men Insisted upon the neces
sity of considering the history of man, es
pecially in Its early stages. In connection
with what biology shows to be the history
of life, but, furthermore, there has arisen
a demand that history shall it.-elf be treated
as a science. Both positions are in their
essence right, but as regards each position
the more arrogant among the Invaders of
the new realm of knowledge take an attU
tude to which it is not necessary to assen*.
As regards the latter of the two positions,
thai which would treat history henceforth
mere!) as one branch of scientific study,
we most of course cordially agree that ac
curacy in recording facts and appreciation
of their relative worth and Interrelationship
are just as necessary in historical study as
in any other kind of study. The fact that
■ book, though Interesting, is untrue of
course removes it at once from the category
of history, however much it may still de
serve to retain a place In the always de
sirable group of volumes which deal with
entertaining action. But the converse also
holds, at least to the extent of permitting
us to Insist upon what would seem to be the
elementary fact, that a book which is writ
ten to be read should be readable. This
rather obvious truth seems to have been
forgotten by some of the more zealous sci
entific historian.*, who apparently bold that
the worth of an historical book la .lirectlv
in proportion to th« Impossibility of reading
it, save as a painful duty.
Literary Side of History. %
Now. I am willing that history shall be
treated as a branch of science, but only on
condition that it also remains a branch of
literature; and, furthermore, I believe that
as the tie:d of science encroaches on the
fir! 1 of literature, there should be a corre
sponding encroachment of literature upon
science ; and I bold that one of the great
needs, which can on!y be mrt by very able
m. whose culture is broad enough to M;
clude literature .:.- well as science, is the
need of books for scientific laymen. We
need a litcrutur« >l si nee which shall be
readable. So far from doing away with the
school of grea4 historians, the school >(
Polyhluf and Tacitus, Gibbon and Macaulay,
we need merely that the future writers of
history, without losing the qualities which
have made those men great, shall also util
ize the new facts and new methods which
science has put at their disposal. Dryneaa
Is not in Itself ■ measure of value. No
"scientific" treatise about -St. Louis will iiis :
place Joinville, for tho very reason that
Jomvllie'a place is in both hlPtory and lit
erature; no minute study of the Napoleonic
wars will teach us nioro than Marbot—
and Marbot* is as "taterestlng as Walter
s...it. Moreover, certain at least of the
branches of science should likewise be treat
• <1 by masters In the art of presentment, jo
that the layman interested in science, no
less than the layman interested in history.
shall have on bis shelves classics which can
be read. Whether this wish be or be ?vt
capable of realization, it assuredly remains
true that the great historian of the future
must essentially represent th" ideal striven
ar't.r by the great historians of the past.
The industrious collector of facts occupies
an honorable but not an exalted position,
ami the scientific historian who produce:
books which are not literature must rest
content with the honor, substantial but not
of th^ highest typo, that belongs to him
who gathers material which some time pome
great master shall arise to us\
Double Method of Treatment.
ret, while freely conceding nil that can
be' said of the masters of literature, we
must insist npon the historian of mankind
working in the scientific spirit and using
the treasure houses of science. Tie who
would fully treat of man must know at
least something of biology, of the science
that treats of living, breathing things: and
especially of that science of evolution which
is inseparably connected with the great
nanr* of Darwin. Of course, thpre is no ex
act parallelism between the birth, growth
and dentil of species In the animal world
anri the birth, growth and death of so
cieties in tho world of mail. Yet there is a
certain parallelism. There are stronge an
alogies: it may be that there are homol
ogies.
How far the resemblances between the
two sets of phenomena are more than ac
cidental, how far biology can be used as
an aid in the interpr?tation of human his
tory, we cannot at present 6ay. The his
torian should never forget, what the high
est type of scientific man is always teach
ing us to remember, that willingness to
admit ignorance is a prime factor in de
veloping wisdom out of knowledge. Wis
dom is advanced by research which enables
us to add to knowledge: and, moreover, the
way for wisdom is made ready when men
who record facts of vast but unknown im
port, when asked to explain their full sig
nificance, are willing frankly to answer
that they do not know. The research
which enables us to add to the sum of
complete knowledge stands first: but sec
ond only stands the research which, while
enabling us clearly to nose th* 3 problem,
also requires us to say that with our pres
ent knowledge we can offer no complete
solution.
Changes in Mammalian Life.
1,-et me illustrate what I nu.an by an
install' e or two taken from one of the
most fascinating branches of world history,
the history of the higher forms of life, of
mammalian life, on this globe.
Geologists and astronomers are not
agreed as to the length of time necessary
for the changes that have taken place.
At any rate, many hundreds of thousands
of years, some millions of years, have
passed by since in the eocene, at the be
ginning of the tertiary period, we find the
traces of an abundant, varied and highly
developed mammalian life on the land
masses out of which have grown the conti
nent.- as we see them to-day. The ages
swept by until, with the advent of man
substantially in the physical shape in which
we now know him. we also find a mam
malian fauna net essentially different in
kind, though widely differing in distribu
tion, from that of the present day.
Throughout this immense period form suc
ceeds form, type succeeds type, in obedi
ence to laws of evolution, of progress and
retrogression, of development and death,
which we -as yet understand only in the
Miost imperfect manner. As knowledge it -
creases our wisdom is often turned into
fi olishneas, and many of the phenomena
if evolution which seemed clearly ex
plicable to tlie learned master of science
who founded thes*» lectures, to us nowadays
seem far le. s satisfactorily explained.
Many Changes Unexplained.
The scientific men of most note now dif
fer widely in their estimates of the relative
parts played in evolution by natural selec
tion, by mutation, by the inheritance of ac
quirc-J characteristics; and we study their
writings wit-i a growing impression thai
tlure are forces at work which our blinded
c. er wholly faM to apprehend; ard wher.?
this is the case the part of wisdom is. to
say that we believe we nave such and such
partial explanations, but that we are not
warranted In saving that we have the whole
explanation In tracing the history of »he
development of faunal life during this
period, the age of mammals, there are
some facts which are clearly established,
some great and sweeping changes for which
we can ascribe with _ certainty a reason.
There are other facts as to which we grope
in the dark, and vast changes, vast catas
trophic?, of which we can give no adequate
c*i>tanation.
The Meaning of "New Species."
Before illustrating these types, let us
settle one or two matters of terminology.
In the changes, the development and ex
tinction, of species we must remember that
such expressions as "a new species." or
as "a species becoming extinct." are each
commonly and indiscriminately used to ex
press totally different &ud opposite mean
ings. Of course, the "new" species is not
new in the sense ibat its ancestors ap
peared later on the globe's surface than
those of any old species tottering to ex
tinction. Phylogenetieally. each animal
now living must necessarily trace Its ances
tral descent back through countless gen
erations, through ;eons of time, to the
early stages of the appearance of life on
the globe. All that we mean by a "new"
species is that, from some cause or set of
causes, one of these ancestral stems slowly
or suddenly develops into a form unlike
any that has preceded it; so that while in
one form of life the ancestral type Is con
tinuously repeated and the old species con
tinues to exist, in another form of life there
is a delation from the ancestral type and
v. new spfdee appears.
Definitions of Extinction.
Similarly, "extinction of species'" i% a
term which has two entirely different mean
ings. The type osa) bseoaae extinct by
dying out and leaving no descendant*. Ol*
It may die out because, as the genera
tions go by. there in change. klow or swift.
until v new form Is produced. Thu.s In one
case the line »f Hft comes to an end. In
the other ctjM M changes into something
different The huße tttanotbers and the
small three-toed hoTM hotb existed at what
may roughly l»e called the same period „f
the worlds history, back In the middle of
the mammalian age. Both arc extinct in
the same sense that each ha« completely
disappeared, and that nothing like either
la to bo found In th» world today. But
whereas all the individual titnnothere*
(maDy died out. leaving no descendant *, a
number of the three-toed horses did leave
descendants, and these descendants, con
stantly changing: as the ages went by,
finally developed into the highly special
ized one-toed horses, asses and zebras of
to-day.
The analogy between the facts thus Indi
cated and certain facts in the development
of human societies is striking. A further
analogy is supplied by a very curious ten
dency, often visible in cases of intense and
extreme specialization. When an animal
form becomes highly specialized, the type
at first, because of its specialization, trl
nmphr over its allied rivals and its ene
mies, and a'tains a great development:
until in many cases the specialization be
comes so extreme that, from some cause
unknown to us, or at which w«> merely
guess, it disappears. The new species which
mark a new era commonly come from the
!e?s specialized types, the less distinctive,
dominant and striking types, of tlie preced
ing era.
Local Causes of Destruction.
When dealing with the changes, cata
clysmic or otherwise, which divide one
period of pahrontologlcal history from an
othef. we can sometimes assign causes,
and again we cannot even guess at them.
In the case of single species or of faunas
of very restricted localities the explanation
is often self-evident. A comparatively slight
change In the amount of moisture in the
climate, with the attendant change in
vegetation, might readily mean the de
struction of a group of huge herbivores
with a bodily size such that they needed a
vast quantity of food and with teeth so
weak or so peculiar that only one or two
kinds of plants could furnish this food.
Again, we now know that the most deadly
foes of the higher forms of life are various
lower forms of life, such as insects or
microscopic creatures conveyed into the
blood by insects. There are districts In
South America where many large animals,
wild and domestic, cannot live because ot
the presence either of certain ticks or of
certain baleful flies. In Africa there Is a
terrible genus of poison fly, each species
acting as the host of microscopic creatures
which are deadly to certain of the higher
vertebrates. One of these species, though
harmless to man, is fatal to all domestic
animals, and this although harmless to the
closely related wild kinsfolk of these ani
mals. Another is 'fatal to man himself,
being the cause of the "sleeping sickness,"
which In many large districts has killed
off tbe entire population. Of course, the
development or the extension of the range
of any such bisects, and any one of many
other causes which we see actually at
work around us. would readily account for
the destruction of some given species or
even for the destruction of several species
in a limited area of country.
Results of the Glacial Period.
When whole faunal groups die out, over
large areas, the question is different, and
may or may not be susceptible of explana
tion with the knowledge we actually pos
sess. In the old arctogeal continent, for
instance, in what is now Europe. Asia and
North America, the glacial period made a
complete but of course explicable change
in the faunal life of the region. At one
time the continent held a rich and varied
fauna. Then a period of great cold super
vened, and a different fauna succeeded the
first. The explanation of the change i.«
obvious.
But In many other cases we cannot so
much as hazard a guess as to why a given
change occurred. One of the most striking
instances of these inexplicable changes is
that afforded by the history of South
America toward the close of the tertiary
period. For ages South America had been
an island by itself, cut off from North
America at the very time that the latter
was at least occasionally in land communi
cation with Asia. During this time a very
peculiar fauna grew up in South America,
some of the types resembling nothing now
existing, while others are recognizable as
ancestral forms of the ant-eaters, sloths and
armadillos of to-day. It was a peculiar
and diversified mammalian fauna of. on
the whole, rather small species, and with
out any representatives of the animals with
which man has been most familiar during
his career on this earth.
The Invasion Through Panama.
Toward the end of the tertiary period there
was an upheaval of land between this old
South American island and North America,
near what is now the Isthmus of Panama,
tnereby making a bridge across which the
teeming animal life of the northern conti
nent bad access to this queer southern
continent. There followed an inrush of
huge or swift or formidable creature*,
which had attained their development in
the fierce competition of the arctogeal
realm. Elephants, camels, horses, tapirs,
swine, sabre-toothed tigers, big cats,
wolves, bears and deer crowded into South
America, warring each against the other
incomers and against the old long existing
forms. A riot of life followed. Not only
was the character of the South American
fauna totally changed by the invasion of
these creatures from the north, which soon
swarmed over the continent, but it was
al?o changed through the development
wrought in the old inhabitants by the
severe competition to which they were ex
posed. Many of the smaller or less capable
types died out. Others developed enormous
bulk or complete armor protection, and
thereby saved themselves from the new
beasts. In consequence. South America
soon became populated with various new
species of mastodons, sabre-toothed tigers,
camels, horses, deer, cats, wolves, hooved
creatures of strange shapes and some of
them of giant size, all of these being de
scended from the immigrant types u ana
side by side with them there grew up large
autochthonous ungulates, giant ground
sloths, wellnigh as large as elephants,
and armored creatures as bulky as an ox,
but structurally of the armadillo or ant
eater type; and some of these latter not
only held their own but actually In their
turn wandered north over the isthmus and
invaded North America. A fauna as varied
as that of Africa. ato-ciay. as abundant in
species and individuals, even more note
worthy because of Its huge size or odd type
and because of the terrific prowess* of the
more formidable flesh eaters, was thus de
deloped in. South America, and flourished
for a period which human history would
call very long indeed, hut which geologi
cally was short.
Destruction in South America.
Then, for no reason that we can assign,
destruction -fell on this fauna. All the
great and terrible creatures died out, the
same fate befalling the Ranged represen
tatives of the old autochthonous fauna ana
the descendants of the migrants that had
come down from the north. Ground sloth
and glyptodon, sabre-tooth, horse and mas
todon, and all the associated animals of
large size, vanished, and South America,
though still retaining Its connection with
North America, once again became a land
with a mammalian life small and weak
compared to that of North America and
the Old World. Its fauna la now marked,
for instance, by the presence of medium
sized deer and cats, foxlike wolves and
small camel-like, creatures, as well as by
the presence of small armadillos, sloths
and ant-eaters. In other words. it includes
diminutive representatives of the giants of
the preceding era, both of the. giants among
the older forms of mammalia and of the
Slants among the new and Intrusive kinds.
The change was widespread and extraor
dinary, and with our present means of In
formation it is wholly Inexplicable. There
was no lea age., and it it« hard to imagine
any cause which would account for the
extinction of bo many species of. huge or
moderate bize, while smaller representa
tive^ and here and there medium elzea
representatives, of many of them were left.
Analogies in Human Societies.
Now. as to all of these phenomena in the
evolution of species, there are, if not ho
mologles, at least ««rtaiu anftloflea. In the
history of societies. In the »***»
o / the rise to prominence, of the d «™«^
m .nt and change. of the temporary domin
ance, and death _or t^orm^^
reefo 00 r UP nati°on; a^e g a^ H£
nec"»ary to keep in that we use each
of the words "birth" and "death, -youth
»d "«e.- often very loosely »* *%£
times as denoting either one. of two totally
different conceptions. Of course on*
sense there Is no such thing as an old
or a "young" nation any more than there
Is an "old" or "young" family. Phyto
genetically, the line of ancestral descent
must be of exactly the same length for
every existing Individual, and for every
croup of individuals, whether forming a
funny or a nation. All that an. properly
be meant by the tertrs "new" and -young-
Is that in a given line of descent there has
suddenly come a period of rapid change.
This change may arise either from a new
development or transformation of the old
elements, or else from a new grouping of
these elements with other and varied ele
ments: so that the words "new" nation^or
-young" nation may have a real d « « r * n^
of significance In one case from what tney
have in another.
Development of Barbarians.
As in biology, so In human history- a
new form may result from the specializa
tion of a long existing and hitherto very
slowly changing generalized or non-special
ized form; as. for Instance, when a barbaric
race from a variety of causes suddenly de
velops a more complex cultivation and
civilization. This is what occurred, for li
stance, in Western Europe during the cen
turies of the Teutonic and later the Scan
dinavian ethnic overflows from the north.
All the modern countries of Western Eu
rope are descended from the states created
by these northern Invaders. When first
created they could be called "new" or
"young" states In the sense that part or
all of the people composing them wre d<
tended from races that hitherto had not
been civilized at all. and that therefore for
the first time entered on the career of civil
ized communities. In the southern part of
Western Europe the new states thus
formed consisted in bulk of the inhabitants
already in the land under the Roman Em
pire; and it was here that the new king
doms first took shape. Through a refiVx ac
tion their influence then extended back into
the cold forests from which the invaders
had come, and Germany and Scandinavia
witnessed the rise of communities with
essentially the same civilization as their
southern neighbors; though In those com
munities, unlike the southern communities,
there was no infusion of new blood, and in
each case the new civilized nation which
gradually developed was composed entirely
of members of the same race which in the
same region had for ages lived the life of
a slowly changing barbarism. T'.ie same
was true of the Slavs and the Slavonized
Finns of Eastern Europe, when an infiltra
tion of Scandinavian leaders from the north
and an infiltration of Byzantine culture
from the south Joined to produce the
changes which have gradually, oat of the
little Slav communities of the forest and
the steppe, formed the mighty Russian Em
pire of to-day. .
Terms to Indicate Development.
Again, the new form may represent mere
ly a splitting off from a long established,
highly developed ard specialized nation. In
this case the nation is usually spoken of
as a "young," and Is correctly spoken of
as a "new." nation; but the term should
always be used with a clear sense of the
difference between what is described in
such case and what Is described by the
same term in speaking of a civilized nation
ju;-t developed from a barbarism. Carthage
and Syracuse were new cities compared
with Tyre and Corinth; but the Greek Of
Phoenician race was in every sense of the
word as old in the new city as in the old
city. So. nowaday?, Victoria or Manitoba
is a new community compared with Eng
land or Scotland; but the ancestral type of
civilization .and culture is as old in one
case as in the other. I, of, course, do not
mean for a moment that great changes are
not produced by the mere fact that the old
civilized race is suddenly placed in sur
roundings where it has again to go through
the work of taming the wilderness, a work
finished many centuries before In the orig
inal home of the race: I merely mean that
the ancestral history is the same In each
case. We can rightly use the phrase "a new
people" in speaking of Canadians or Aus
tralians. Americans or Africanders Bat ■»€
use it In an entirely different sense from
that in which we use It when speaking of
such communities as those founded by Ifca
Northmen and their descendants durinsr
that period of astonishing rrowth which
saw the descendants of the Norse sea
thieves conquer an<l transform Normandy,
Sicily and the British Islands: we u*e it in
an entirely different sense from that in
which we use It when speaking of the new
states that grew up around Warsaw. Kieff.
Novgorod and Moscow, as the wild savages
of the steppes and the marshy forests
struggled haltingly and stumblingly up
ward to become builders of cities and to
form stable governments.
Nations Made by Cleavage.
The kingdoms of Charlemagne and Alfred
were "new" compared with the empire on
the Bosporus: they were also in every
way different: their lines of ancestral de
scent had nothing in common with those
of the polyglot realm which paid tribute
to the Csesars of Byzantine; their social
problems and aftertime history were totally
different. This is not true of those "new"
nations which spring direct from old na
tions. Brazil. the Argentine, the United
States, . are all "new" nations, compared
with the nations of Europe: but, with what
ever changes in detail, their civilization Is
nevertheless of the general European type,
as shown in Portugal. Spain and England.
The differences between these "new"' Amer
ican and these "old" European nations are
not as great as those which separate the
"new"- nations < ne from another and the
"old" nations one from another. There are
in each case very real differences between
the new and the old nation — differences both
for good and for evil, but in each case
there is the same ancestral history to
reckon with, the same type of civilization,
with its attendant benefits and shortcom
ings: and, after the pioneer stages are
BOOKS AND PUBLICATIONS. BOOKS AND PUBLICATION*^
The Silent Call
By EDWIN MUTON ROYLE
The Story of "The Squaw
Man's" Son by the Author
of "The Squaw Man."
The hero— Hal, the Squaw Man's
ton-is a half-breed whose father
w« an Eng hshman of noble family.
Hal vvas educated in the English
school, end trained for the Army.
but when the novel open, he ha,
heard the "silent call" and i, back
near the ranch where he w as bom.
tUuatrated $1 SO
Charles Scribner's Soni
passed, tbe problems to ft* Bolv*t^ rr T s '
of superficial differences. aiwjSH
essence- the -am*?: they ar* thaw M^
front all civilized peoples, ant »>?^
confront peoples struaxlfens; from i£ I
Into civilization. ► *V
Absorption and Extinct,^
80. when we speak of the "4e*a>» ,
tribe, a nation, or a civilisation. ti*"''.*' 1
may be used for either one orfl^^H
different processes. the analogy ■*[&**
occurs In biological history beln?'^^ 5*5 *
Certain tribes of savages, the T«a3js
for Instance, and various lJttfci eii^
American Indians, have within ( * '
century or two completely 31*4 out-*-* 1
the Individuate have perished. 1-ajJ? 1
descendants, and th*» blood has <n3»-'n 3 »- ' * "
Certain other tribes of Indians tj^*
tribe* disappeared or are now 'lisafjy
but their blood remain?, bein;
Into th» veins of the- white lntni.»e»^7J
the black men introduced by \h»%4 ***
Intruders, so that in reality they arj "?**
ly being transformed into soiaet!i< ni £
ferent from what th«>y were. Inthi»rjf
States, In the new State, of OklahoTai"*^
Creeks. Cheroke^s. Chlckasaws. D—J^
and other tribes are in process of"^*
tlon Into the mass of the white pcptgjjT';
when the state was admitted a covj?*i
years ago. one of the two Sensjg^-*'
three of the five Representatives jj'^!
ares* were partly of Indian blood, j.,.
a few years these Indian tribes Vff^H
disappeared as completely as thavß
have actually died out. but the 'Msawj
anre win he by absorption and t'aiuZ?
tlon into the mass of the American |J2
tion. ,
Rome's Effect en the Worfj.
A like wide diversity in fact may*^;
ered In the statement that a cirtlizacc, J
died out. The nationality and cufc-j^;
the wonderful city builders of th# uJ
Mesopotamlan Plain have "'*"%*
appeared, and though doubtless certa^",
fluences da tine therefrom an; still sJm
they are In such changed and hid/Jea lJ
as to be unrecoznizable. But the f^T
pgarance of the Roman Empire wa»ef,
such character. There was complete aW
farreachlnt; transformation, and M _
period a violent dislocation, but it »Jj.
not be correct to speak either cf t>,s t^
or the culture of old Rome 33 extfitcHj
are not yet In a position to rfogmathn
to the permanence or evanescence of&
various strains of blood that go to TMh»
every civilized nationality, tut It is raje
ably certain that the Mood of the old h,
man still flows through tin vefca 9*
modern Italian, and though rh»re tush]
much intermixture, from mm) 4%.
foreign sources— from foreign "nqm.
and from foreign slaves— yet it t» pf«j|
that the Italian type of to-<iay fcjj 3.
dominant ancestral type in the 453-
Latin. As for the culture, the chrj|^|
of Rome, this is even more tree, ft i,
suffered a complete, transformation, M
by natural growth, partly by abeorfajj,
totally alien elements, such a* a ha|
religion, and certain Teutonic sroversajs
and social customs, but the process van
one of extinction, but one of a
transformation, both from within sit -
the accretion of outside element* fc
France and Spain the inheritance- ef Id
blood Is small, but the Roman culture ltd
was forced on these countries hag hi
tenaciously retained by them threiftq
all their subsequent ethnical and pal|
changes as the basis on which their £*■
zatlons have been built.
Extent of Italian Irifluencs..
Moreover, the permanent «preana]i
Roman influence wa? not limited to Ers
It has extended to and over half <?f
new world which was not even fireaaat
during the thousand years of brilliaal'i
between the birth and the death «f pa
Rome. This New World was i.3coT«n#!
on" Italian, and Ma mainland first ma
and named by another, and in if, rrrarafl
ritory many times the <:-.* of Trajaa'jcj
pire, the Spanish, French ar.d P<wtani
i adventurers founded, beside the St. la
rence and the Amazon, a!on» the Ina
the Andes and in the shadow of tlwaf
capped volcanoes of Mexico, from ttel
, Grand? to the Strait of Magellan, cm
: munities. now flourishing and pets
'■■ apace, which. In speech and culture C
; even as regards one strain hi their SSi
■ are the lineal heirs of the ancient Le
civilization. When we speak of the M
pcarance. the passing: away, pf meal
- Babylon or Nineveh, and of ancient !■
Iwe are*'* using the same terms to tad
totally different phenomena.
Looseness of Terminology.
The anthropologist and the historic'
to-day realize much more clearly than »
predecessors of a couple of genes"
back how artificial most great ntiimt
tics are, and how Inaaa is the ternjnt
usually employed to describe them E*
is an element of unconscious and !*J
pathetic humor in tho simplicity otW
century ago which spoke of the Arjai'
the Teuton with reverential -riirt**
if the words denoted not merely «a*S
definite, but something ethnolo5»«& •
crcd. the writers havina: much Use **
pride and faith m the:- own and their*
low countrymen's purity of vent &
these irnagirary Aryan or Teutonic C*
tors that were felt a few KonoratioaSiS^
by the various noble families who I°*
their lineage direct to Odin v .Sna» '
Noah. Nowadays, of course. »lt **"
recognize that there may not *. tsi^
i« not. the slightest connection W»*
kinship in blood and kinship in t)na«-
America we find three races, white, "*
black, and three tongues. Enslisfi. **•
and Spanish, mingled in such a »»f •
the lines of clea\-as» bl race contest
run at right angles to UW \lr.n of d**
of speech; there being communitifi ■"
catly of pure blood of each raw **
speaking each language.
'Doubtful Ethnical M**mnf» |
Aryan and Teutonic are t?nns W«
very definite linguistic ir.eaningi .*
whether they have any such ethnirtls*
ings as were formerly .mributed '-o ta»
so doubtful that we cannot even ** '
whether the ancestors of most of tS3«
call Teutons originally spoke a3 Jfj
t..u>:u.> .it all. The term Celtic. aJ* l^
perfectly clear when used linguistic*!?-
when used to describe a race it B«»^
most nothinc until mt find ' M; ' w! *"j

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