be times when he not only sees red but rejoices in it-and that was the strong impression I formed when I crossed Germany on August 1, 1914-then outbreaks of violence will not cease till troglodyte mentality is bred out of man. That is why the question of troglodyte or hylobatic ancestry is not a pursuit of dead bones. It is a vital problem on which turns much of folk psychology. It is a problem utile to the State, in that it throws light on whether nature or nurture is the more likely to build up man's future-and save him from the recurrence of such another quinquennium.

The critic to whom I have referred was not idle in his criticism. He had not been taught that evolutionary doctrine has its bearings on practical life. The biologist and the anthropologist are at fault; they have too often omitted to show that their problems have a very close relation to those of the statesman and the social reformer, and that the problems of the latter can not be solved without a true insight into man's past, without a knowledge of the laws of heredity, and without a due appreciation of the causes which underlie great folk-movements.

2. INSISTENCE ON INSTITUTES OF ANTHROPOLOGY.

The anthropological problems of the present day are so numerous and so pressing that we can afford to select those of the greatest utility. Indeed, the three university institutes of anthropology I have suggested would have to specialize and then work hard to keep abreast of the problems which will crowd upon them. One might take the European races, another Asia and the Pacific, and a third Africa. America in anthropology can well look after itself. In each case we need something on the scale of the Paris École d'Anthropologie, with its 17 professors and teachers, with its museums and journals. But we want something else—a new conception of the range of problems to be dealt with and a new technique. From such schools would pass out men with academic training fit to become officials, diplomatic agents, teachers, missionaries, and traders in Europe, in Asia, or in Africa, men with intelligent appreciation of and sympathy with the races among whom they proposed to work.

But this extra-State work, important as it is, is hardly comparable in magnitude with the intra-State work which lies ready to hand for the anthropological laboratory that has the will, the staff, and the equipment to take it up efficiently. In the present condition of affairs it is only too likely that much of this work, being psychometric, will fall into the hands of the psychologist, whereas it is essentially the fitting work of the anthropologist, who should come to the task, if fitly trained, with a knowledge of comparative material and of the past history, mental and physical, of mankind, on which his present faculties so largely depend. The danger has arisen because the

anthropometer has forgotten that it is as much his duty to measure the human mind as it is his duty to measure the human body, and that it is as much his duty to measure the functional activities of the human body-its dynamical characters—as its statical characters. By dynamical characters I understand such qualities as resistance to fatigue, facility in physical and mental tasks, immunity to disease, excitability under stimuli, and many kindred properties. If you tell me that we are here trenching on the field of psychology and medicine, I reply: Certainly; you do not suppose that any form of investigation which deals with man-body or mind-is to be omitted from the science of man? If you do you have failed to grasp why anthropology is the queen of the sciences. The university anthropological institute of the future will have attached to it a psychologist, a medical officer, and a biologist. They are essential portions of its requisite staff, but this is a very different matter from lopping off large and important branches of its fitting studies, to lie neglected on the ground, or to be dragged away, as dead wood, to be hewn and shapen for other purposes by scientific colleagues in other institutes. Remember that I am emphasizing that side of anthropology which studies man in the service of the State-anthropology as a utile science and that this is the only ground on which anthropology can appeal for support and sympathy from State, from municipality, and from private donors. You will notice that I lay stress on the association of the anthropological institute with the university, and the reasons for this are manifold. In the first place, every science is stimulated by contact with the workers in allied sciences; in the second place, the institute must be a teaching as well as a researching body, and it can only do this effectively in association with an academic center-a center from which to draw its students and recruit its staff. In the third place, a great university provides a wide field for anthropometric studies in its students and its staff. And the advantages are mutual. It is not of much service to hand a student a card containing his stature, his weight, his eye-color, and his head-length. Most of these he can find out for himself. But it is of importance to him to know something of how his eye, heart, and respiration function; it is of importance to him to know the general character of his mental qualities, and how they are associated with the rapidity and steadiness of muscular responses. Knowledge on these points may lead him to a fit choice of a career, or at any rate save him from a thoroughly bad choice.

In the course of my life I have often received inquiries from schoolmasters of the following kind: We are setting up a school anthropometric laboratory, and we propose to measure stature, weight, heightsitting, &c. Can you suggest anything else we should measure?

My invariable reply is: Don't start measuring anything at all until you have settled the problems you wish to answer, and then just measure the characters in an adequate number of your boys, which will enable you to solve those problems. Use your school as a laboratory, not as a weighhouse.

And I might add, if I were not in dread of giving offense: And most certainly do not measure anything at all if you have no problem to solve, for unless you have you can not have the true spirit of the anthropologist, and you will merely increase that material up and down in the schools of the country which nobody is turning to any real use.

Which of us, who is a parent, has not felt the grave responsibility of advising a child on the choice of a profession? We have before us, perhaps, a few meager examination results, an indefinite knowledge of the self-chosen occupations of the child, and perhaps some regard to the past experience of the family or clan. Possibly we say John is good with his hands and does not care for lessons; therefore he should be an engineer. That may be a correct judgment if we understand by engineer, the engine driver or mechanic. It is not true if we think of the builders of Forth Bridges and Assuan Dams. Such men work with the head and not the hand. One of the functions of the anthropological laboratory of a great university, one of the functions of a school anthropometric laboratory, should be to measure those physical and mental characters and their interrelations upon which a man's success in a given career so much depends. Its function should be to guide youth in the choice of a calling, and in the case of a school to enable the headmaster to know something of the real nature of individual boys, so that that much-tried man does not feel compelled to hide his ignorance by cabalistic utterances when parents question him on what their son is fitted for.

Wide, however, as is the anthropometric material in our universities and public schools, it touches only a section of the population. The modern anthropologist has to go further; he has to enter the doors of the primary schools; he has to study the general population in all its castes, in its craftsmen, and its sedentary workers. Anthropology has to be useful to commerce and to the State, not only in association with foreign races, but still more in the selection of the right men and women for the staff of factory, mine, office, and transport. The selection of workmen to-day by what is too often a rough trial and discharge method is one of the wasteful factors of production. Few employers even ask what trades parents and grandparents have followed, nor consider the relation of a man's physique and mentality to his proposed employment. I admit that progress in this direction will be slow, but if the work undertaken in this sense by

the anthropologist be well devised, accurate, and comprehensive, the anthropometric laboratory will gradually obtain an assured position in commercial appreciation. As a beginning, the anthropologist by an attractive museum, by popular lectures and demonstrations, should endeavour to create, as Sir Francis Galton did at South Kensington, an anthropometric laboratory, frequented by the general population as well as by the academic class. Thus he will obtain a wider range of material. But the anthropologist, if he is to advance his science and emphasize its services to the State, must pass beyond the university, the school, and the factory. He must study what makes for wastage in our present loosely organized society; he must investigate the material provided by reformatory, prison, asylums for the insane and mentally defective; he must carry his researches into the inebriate home, the sanatorium, and the hospital, side by side with his medical collaborator. Here is endless work for the immediate future, and the work in which we are already leagues behind our American colleagues. For them the psychometric and anthropometric laboratory attached to asylum, prison, and reformatory is no startling innovation, to be spoken of with bated breath. It is a recognized institution of the United States to-day, and from such laboratories the "fieldworkers" pass out, finding out and reporting on the share parentage and environment have had in the production of the abnormal and the diseased, of the anti-social of all kinds. Some of this work is excellent, some indifferent, some perhaps worthless, but this will always be the case in the expansion of new branches of applied science. The training of the workers must be largely of an experimental character, the technique has to be devised as the work develops. Instructors and directors have to be appointed, who have not been trained ad hoc. But this is remedying itself, and if, indeed, when we start we also do not at first limp somewhat lamely along these very paths, it will only be because we have the advantage of American experience.

There is little wonder that in America anthropology is no longer the stepchild of the State. It has demanded its heritage and shown that it can use it for the public good.

If I have returned to my first insistence that the problems handled by the anthropologist shall be those useful to the State, it is because I have not seen that point insisted upon in this country, and it is because my first insistence, like my third, involves the second for its effectiveness-the establishment in our chief universities of anthropological institutes. As Gustav Schwalbe said of anthropology in 1907-and he was a man who thought before he spoke, and whose death during the war is a loss to anthropologists the whole world.

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A lasting improvement can only arise if the State recognizes that anthropology is a science preeminently of value to the State, a science which not only deserves but can demand that chairs shall be officially established for it in every university. Only this spread of officially authorized anthropology in all German universities can enable it to fulfil its task-that of training men who, well armed with the weapon of anthropological knowledge, will be able to place their skill at the service of the State, which will ever have need of them in increasing numbers.'

Our universities are not, as in Germany, Government controlled institutions, although such control is yearly increasing. Here we have first to show that we are supporting the State before the State somewhat grudgingly will give its support to us. Hence the immediate aim of the anthropologist should be-not to suggest that the State should a priori assist work not yet undertaken, but to do what he can with the limited resources in his power, and when he has shown that what he has achieved is, notwithstanding his limitations, of value to the State, then he is in a position to claim effective support for his science.

I have left to myself little time to place fairly before you my third insistence.

3. INSISTENCE ON THE ADOPTION OF A NEW TECHNIQUE.

What is it that a young man seeks when he enters the university, if we put aside for a moment any social advantages, such as the formation of lifelong friendships associated therewith? He seeks, or ought to seek, training for the mind. He seeks, or ought to seek, an open doorway to a calling which will be of use to himself, and wherein he will take his part, a useful part, in the social organization of which he finds himself a member. Much as we may all desire it, in the pressure of modern life, it is very difficult for the young man of moderate means to look upon the university training as something apart from his professional training. Men more and more select their academic studies with a view to their professional value. We can no longer combine the senior wranglership with the pursuit of a judgeship; we can not pass out in the classical tripos and aim at settling down in life as a Harley Street consultant; we can not take a D. Sc. in chemistry as a preliminary to a journalistic career. It is the faculties which provide professional training that are crowded, and men study nowadays physics or chemistry because they wish to be physicists or chemists, or seek by their knowledge of these sciences to reach commercial posts. Even the faculty of arts itself runs the danger of becoming a professional school for elementary school teachers. I do not approve this state of affairs; I would merely note its existence. But granted it, what does anthropology

• Correspondenz Blatt, Jahrg. xxxviii., S. 68.