Methods and Aims in Archaeology

In few kinds of work are the results so directly dependent on the personality of the worker as they are in excavating. The old saying that a man finds what he looks for in a subject, is too true; or if he has not enough insight to ensure finding what he looks for, it is at least sadly true that he does not find anything that he does not look for. Whether it be inscriptions, carvings, papyri, or mummies that excavators have been seeking, they have seldom preserved or cared for anything but their own limited object.
Of late years the notion of digging merely for profitable spoil, or to yield a new excitement to the jaded, has spread unpleasantly—at least in Egypt. A concession to dig is sought much like a grant of a monastery at the Dissolution: the man who has influence or push, a title or a trade connection, claims to try his luck at the spoils of the land. Gold digging has at least no moral responsibility, beyond the ruin of the speculator; but spoiling the past has an acute moral wrong in it, which those who do it may be charitably supposed to be too ignorant or unintelligent to see or realise.
And some systematic outline of archaeological methods and aims is needed, not only for those whose moral sense is so untrained that they may ruin a site, and say “I have done no wrong”; but it may even profit those who take up the name of archaeology when they mean solely art, or inscriptions, or some single branch of the subject. The most familiar teaching entitled archaeological is that of Classical Archaeology, which in the ways of most teachers means Greek sculpture and vase paintings. In spite of all the professorships and schools of that subject, we are still so profoundly ignorant of the archaeology of Greece and Italy that there is scarcely a single class of common objects of which any one knows the history and transformations. Certainly we know far less of the archaeology of classical lands than we do of that of Egypt.