BIOLOGY OF MAN 1165 



mammal family stand alone? Why was society so necessary for 

 man? Part of the answer may be found in the otter's remarkable 

 fitness for an each-for-himself mode of life. It is endowed with great 

 vigour, nimble wits, a mastery of mountain and moorland, river and 

 sea, a roving disposition, pla-tic resourcefulness, and a capacity 

 for thriving on very varied flesh-food. But the ancestors of men were 

 trying a new haunt, they had more brains than brawn, they had at 

 first no chance against lions and tigers except by outwitting them, 

 they inclined to be gentle of heart, and, as we have said, their 

 children were for an unusually long time helpless. Thus the pre-men, 

 no doubt in obedience to their engrained promptings in favour of 

 mutual aid and sociality, found safety in simple societies. 



In face of great difficulties modem man often sits down and 

 reflects on ways and means, arguing to himself that this or that 

 change might save the situation. But we must not read ourselves 

 back into our very distant ancestors, a million years ago, who made 

 the first experiments in society-making. They did not combine their 

 families because they foresaw possible advantages. They obeyed 

 their social promptings and then discovered more or less dimly 

 that there was strength in their weakness. And whenever the simple 

 society began to justify itself in giving man a firmer foothold in the 

 struggle for existence, variations in the direction of increased 

 sociality would tend to survive. As we have noticed in regard to 

 animals, so in man's case, the society would achieve more than the 

 isolated family; precious individuals, like thinkers and artists, would 

 have a chance to survive under the society shield; life would be more 

 secure for the pioneering children and for the aged who treasured 

 the lessons of experience; conversation would become a habit, and 

 men would compare notes around the fire. The early societies were 

 small beginnings, but even in the smallest there was the promise of 

 a future still far beyond our reach, though not beyond our hopes. 



THE NATURE OF HUMAN PROGRESS— In the days when 

 science was young there were geniuses with brains as fine as any since. 

 Personally we do not know as much as we should like to know about 

 Eudoxus {d. 354 B.C.), but we have heard mathematical authorities 

 say that he was a much bigger man than Einstein, who represents 

 for us the present acme of human intelligence. Similarly, Archimedes 

 (d. 212 B.C.) has been described as "perhaps the most perfect type 

 of scientific intellect that has appeared in the world". Two instances 

 will serve as well as twenty in support of the proposition that there 

 were two thousand years ago brains as good as any since. 



Our second proposition is more debatable: that the average of 

 intellectual stature has risen. There has never been a second 

 Aristotle, of such towering intelligence; but there has been an 

 increase in the number of people able to understand what Aristotle 



