Again—what if the dog-tribe were possessed of the practice of certain human arts, and if these varied with the variety? If they buried their dead? and their tombs varied with the variety? if those of one generation lasted for years, decenniums, or centuries? The ethnology would again increase in complexity, and the data would again be increased. The graves of an earlier generation would serve as unwritten records of the habits of sepulture with an earlier one. This is written to foreshadow the importance of the study of antiquities as an instrument of the same kind with philology.
With dogs there are impossibilities. True; but they serve as illustrations. With man they are realities—realities which make philology and archæology important adjuncts to his natural history.
We have now ascertained the character of the study in question; and seen how far it differs from history properly so-called—at least we have done so sufficiently for the purpose of definition. A little reflection will show its relations to certain branches of science, e.g. to physiology, and mental science—a relation upon which there is no time to enlarge. It is enough to understand the existence of such a separate substantive branch of knowledge and inquiry.
What is the amount of this knowledge? This is proportionate to that of the inquiry. What has this been? Less than we are prepared to expect.
“The proper study of mankind is Man.”
This is a stock quotation on the subject.
“Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto.”
This is another. Like many apophthegms of the same kind, they have more currency than influence, and are better known than acted on. We know the zoology of nine species out of ten amongst the lower animals better than that of our own genus. So little have the importance and the investigation of a really interesting subject been commensurate.
It is a new science—so new as scarcely to have reached the period of adolescence. Let us ask what the ancients cared about it.