source; and leaning as heavily as unconsciously on a kind of crude lay psychology of the individual. So strong was the impress of the idea of an unfolding sequence inhering in phenomena themselves, in this earlier ethnology or self-styled "science of man," that the actual relations of its phenomena in time and space were rarely looked into systematically. In consequence, its causal factors were determined with equal randomness. The explanations of causality of which the evolutionary anthropology of a generation ago consisted, were hypothetical and plausible.
The element of time, easily recoverable, at least as regards its relative phases, in prehistory and most fields of archeology, can be only indirectly reached in ethnology proper, which deals with living peoples innocent of writing. Ordinarily, all that we have of them is a momentary cross section of the long stream of their customs. Obviously, the course of this channel can be reconstructed factively only through a detailed determination of the data in terms of some other element which may subsequently be converted into factors of time. This other element is that of space; or, as it is usually named in this connection, geography. Experience to date has revealed no other method, except the speculation, mystical or rationalizing, concealed or avowed, of the older workers.
The spatial factors were strongly appreciated by Eatzel and his school, though still partly in terms of formal physical geography. Chance, however, brought it that in this country a body of students less driven through their general social environment to attempt interpretation than their European colleagues, found themselves envisaged at arms' length, as it were, by a mass of first-hand and living ethnological data. Once these were tasted, they proved emotionally palatable to many minds; with the result that materials were gradually accumulated on a really enormous and unprecedented scale.
It is curious how slowly the realization of this opportunity dawned. Ethnology was practised in this country fifty and seventy-five years ago, and if the students were less in number, they were, man for man, probably more illustrious, as the names of Hale, Gallatin, Morgan, Brinton, and Powell attest. These eminent men truly conducted researches, where many a successor has done little more than assemble material. But the personal contact of all of these pioneers with the Indians at their door was limited, and several disdained it wholly. The explorer, the traveler, the missionary, the military leader, sometimes the compiling historian or instituting official of civilization, were their purveyors of substance. Only slowly was it felt that as good and far better information could be got by the inquirer whose business was ethnic knowledge than by the voyager or resident whose purpose was incidental, and that such acquisition, instead of being an arduous preliminary task, was in itself a grateful pleasure. Much of the old native life long resisted the brunt of our civilization; an infinitude more lay immediately below the surface. The Indian, far from impeding serious inquiry, in most cases was only interested in facilitating it. An enormous tribal diversity lent the color of variety to every increasing endeavor. And, as the spread of the frontier and the education of the Indian tended to obliterate the continuance of native custom, they also rendered access to the people, and intelligent communication with them, easier, less expensive, and more profitable. To-day, the generation of American ethnologists is reared in field studies. Its novices take work on an Indian reservation for granted as the first step on the professional ladder. It is true that acquisition for a time so far outstripped utilization that the reproach was sometimes leveled from transatlantic quarters that purpose had been forgotten and direction lost. But it is equally important to realize that no equally extensive and continuous body of detailed ethnic data has ever been accumulated on the primitive people of any other area as on those of the United States, Canada, and Alaska.
In time, the mere mass of material forced its classification; and its arrangement by types
