{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66869/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66869","id":"gutenberg_66869","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66869","summary":null,"tags":["Aesthetics","Art -- Philosophy","Art, Primitive","Category: Art","Category: Psychiatry/Psychology","Category: Sociology"],"text":"Transcriber\u2019s Notes\n\nObvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations\nin hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and\npunctuation remains unchanged.\n\nItalics are represented thus _italic_.\n\n\n\n\n                          THE ORIGINS OF ART\n\n\n                 [Illustration: Publisher\u2019s monogram]\n\n\n\n\n                                  THE\n\n                            ORIGINS OF ART\n\n                    A PSYCHOLOGICAL & SOCIOLOGICAL\n                                INQUIRY\n\n\n                                  BY\n                               YRJ\u00d6 HIRN\n\n           LECTURER ON \u00c6STHETIC AND MODERN LITERATURE AT THE\n                  UNIVERSITY OF FINLAND, HELSINGFORS\n\n\n                                London\n                      MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED\n                    NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n                                 1900\n\n                         _All rights reserved_\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThe aim and scope of this book is sufficiently indicated by its title.\nI have endeavoured throughout to restrict my attention to questions\nconnected with the origins of art. Points of history and criticism have\nbeen touched upon only in so far as they appeared to contribute towards\nthe elucidation of this purely psychological and sociological problem.\nIn order to save space as well as to spare the reader\u2019s attention,\nthe descriptive parts have been concentrated as much as possible. As\na rule, only one ethnological example, which has been selected as\ntypical, is described in the text, while the corroborating examples\nare represented by references in the footnotes. And even of these\nreferences only such are adduced as have been considered especially\nsignificant. Only in one matter have I aimed at completeness, viz.\nthat of reference to authors from whom I have borrowed facts or\nobservations. And whenever in earlier literature I have found theories\nwhich have appeared similar to the views advanced in this book, these\nsimilarities have been pointed out in the footnotes.\n\nThere is one point, however, to which the reader\u2019s attention should\nbe called in this Preface. When treating of the art-impulse I\nhave\u2014especially in the tenth chapter\u2014mentioned in the footnotes some\nmodern writers on \u00e6sthetic, who, although starting from different\nassumptions, have arrived at a conception of art which in many points\nmay be compared to the one advanced in this book. This comparison,\nhowever, has not been carried out in the text. Considerations of\nspace account for this omission; but it has a further ground in the\ncircumstances under which the present work has originated. A part of\nit, containing the examination of feeling and its expression, and the\nchapter on \u201cAnimal Display,\u201d was published in Swedish as early as\n1896[1]\u2014that is, before the above-mentioned authors had made their\ntheories known. This is not mentioned in order to raise any futile\nquestions of priority, but only as a justification of the way in which\nmy conclusions have been presented.\n\nIt has appeared to me that the continuity of the argument could not\nbut have been broken if, instead of proceeding from my original\nstarting-point, I had based my conclusions upon a critical examination\nof modern \u00e6sthetic doctrines. And I trust that the differences between\nthe thesis of this book and other emotionalistic explanations will\nappear with sufficient clearness to the attentive reader even if they\nhave not been expressly pointed out in the text.\n\nThere are, no doubt, many points, a fuller treatment of which might\nhave been to the advantage of the book. The force of circumstances\nhas compelled me to aim at brevity before anything. But even if it\nhad been possible to give this study a far greater comprehensiveness,\nthe difficulties of expressing myself in a foreign tongue would have\nwithheld me from any avoidable amplification. I have constantly been\nconscious of my audacity in appearing before the English public without\nsufficiently mastering the English language, and I have been anxious\nnot to make my offence greater by any number of pages than it already\nis.\n\nThat it has been possible at all to publish this research in English\nis only a result of the kind assistance which I have received from my\nEnglish friends. I am indebted to Mr. G. G. Berry in Oxford, and Mr.\nLeonard Pomeroy in London, who have revised parts of the manuscript.\nAnd I am further indebted to my publishers for procuring me the\nassistance of Mr. Stephen Gwynn in preparing the book for the press.\nHe has helped me to avoid needlessly technical expressions, and in\nother ways has given the work a more readable style. But he has not\nrestricted himself to these emendations. He has assisted me with\nvaluable suggestions as well as with information. The improvement\nwhich the work has derived from his collaboration can be sufficiently\nappreciated only by its author.\n\nIn purely scientific matters I have benefited much from discussions\nwith students of psychology and sociology in my own country as well as\nin England. My thanks are due to all of them, but especially to my old\nfriends, Dr. Edward Westermarck and Dr. Richard Wallaschek.\n\nThe \u201cList of Authorities quoted\u201d and the Indexes have been compiled\nby my wife. This is, however, only the least important part of the\nassistance which throughout the book has been rendered to me by the\nconstant collaborator in all my researches.\n\n                                                                  Y. H.\n\n HELSINGFORS, _August 1900_.\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS\n\n\n  CHAPTER I\n                                                                   PAGE\n  THE PROBLEM STATED                                                   1\n\n\n  CHAPTER II\n\n  THE ART-IMPULSE                                                     18\n\n\n  CHAPTER III\n\n  THE FEELING-TONE OF SENSATION                                       30\n\n\n  CHAPTER IV\n\n  THE EMOTIONS                                                        43\n\n\n  CHAPTER V\n\n  THE ENJOYMENT OF PAIN                                               56\n\n\n  CHAPTER VI\n\n  SOCIAL EXPRESSION                                                   72\n\n\n  CHAPTER VII\n\n  DEDUCTION OF ART-FORMS                                              86\n\n\n  CHAPTER VIII\n\n  ART THE RELIEVER                                                   102\n\n\n  CHAPTER IX\n\n  THE WORK OF ART                                                    111\n\n\n  CHAPTER X\n\n  OBJECTIONS AND ANSWERS                                             134\n\n\n  CHAPTER XI\n\n  THE CONCRETE ORIGINS OF ART                                        143\n\n\n  CHAPTER XII\n\n  ART AND INFORMATION                                                149\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIII\n\n  HISTORICAL ART                                                     164\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIV\n\n  ANIMAL DISPLAY                                                     186\n\n\n  CHAPTER XV\n\n  ART AND SEXUAL SELECTION                                           203\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVI\n\n  THE ORIGINS OF SELF-DECORATION                                     214\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVII\n\n  EROTIC ART                                                         228\n\n\n  CHAPTER XVIII\n\n  ART AND WORK                                                       249\n\n\n  CHAPTER XIX\n\n  ART AND WAR                                                        261\n\n\n  CHAPTER XX\n\n  ART AND MAGIC                                                      278\n\n\n  CHAPTER XXI\n\n  CONCLUSIONS                                                        298\n\n  LIST OF AUTHORITIES QUOTED                                         307\n\n  INDEX OF AUTHORS                                                   323\n\n  INDEX OF SUBJECTS                                                  328\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER I\n\n                          THE PROBLEM STATED\n\n\nWhen, one hundred and fifty years ago, Baumgarten wrote the treatise\nto which he gave the name _Aesthetica_, and which he described as a\n\u201ctheory of liberal arts and beautiful thinking,\u201d it seemed to him\nneedful to apologise for attracting attention to a field of inquiry\nso low and sensuous as that province of philosophy to which he then\naffixed a name. Many, he thought, might regard art and beauty, which\nappeal primarily to the senses, as subjects beneath the dignity of\nphilosophers.[2] Yet the theories and the ideas which were first\nbrought together as an organised body of thought in Baumgarten\u2019s short\nmanual had so deeply influenced the speculations of his age that, a\ngeneration later, the most important questions of life came to be\ntreated as \u00e6sthetic problems. The philosophy of art, far from needing\nto justify its existence, dominated all philosophy\u2014ethics, metaphysics,\nand even cosmogony. Imagination was treated as the ruling faculty in\nall creation, and beauty was referred to as the criterion, not only\nin art, but in morality. Yet the importance thus given to \u00e6sthetic\nspeculation was transitory, and the period during which philosophers\nwere concerned, not only to find a general criterion of beauty for\nthe arts, but also to apply that criterion far beyond the sphere of\nart, has been succeeded by an age which neglects speculation on art and\nbeauty for other tasks which are regarded as far more important. Such\nrapid changes within a few generations appear almost incomprehensible.\nBut they can easily be explained if we take into account the intimate\nconnection which always exists between \u00e6sthetic speculation and\nprevailing currents of thought.\n\nIn Mr. Bosanquet\u2019s _History of \u00c6sthetic_ it has been pointed out with\ngreat clearness to what extent the earlier prosperity of \u00e6sthetic\nstudies was caused by the general philosophical situation. The theory\nof \u00e6sthetic, as set forth in Baumgarten\u2019s chapter on _cognitio\nsensitiva_, and further developed in Kant\u2019s _Kritik der Urtheilskraft_,\ndealt, as is well known, with a form of judgment which is neither\npurely rational nor purely sensual.[3] In metaphysics, for philosophers\nwho had to struggle with what seemed to them an irreconcilable\nopposition between reason and the senses, this conception of a\nmediative faculty must have satisfied a most urgent need. Similarly we\nmay suppose that the ethical observer felt himself emancipated from the\nnarrow antagonism between body and spirit by looking at our actions in\nthe \u00e6sthetic way. In proportion, however, as general science has been\nable to do away with the old dualism of higher and lower faculties, the\njudgment of taste has necessarily lost importance. In the development\nof monistic philosophy and monistic morals we may thus see one\nimportant factor, by the influence of which \u00e6sthetic has been ousted\nfrom its central position.\n\nThe evolution of modern art has been still more injurious to \u00e6sthetic\nspeculation than the progress of science. In the palmy days of\nart-philosophy conditions were eminently favourable to universal\ngeneralisations. The great periods of art, classical antiquity and the\nRenaissance, were so remote that only their simplest and most salient\nfeatures were discerned. Nor did the art of the period exhibit the\nbewildering multiplicity of a fertile age,\u2014least of all in Germany,\nthe home and centre of \u00e6sthetic inquiry. The formative arts were\nless important than ever before; music, which was so soon to eclipse\nall other arts, had not yet awakened the interest of philosophers.\nThe crafts were at a low ebb; landscape-gardening is indeed the only\nkind of applied art that we hear about at this time. Beauty, art, the\nideal\u2014these and all other general notions must have been suggested\nwith unsurpassable simplicity by this uniform and monotonous artistic\noutput. It is easy to understand the eagerness and the delight with\nwhich the earlier writers on \u00e6sthetic, once the impulse given, drew\nconclusions, made comparisons, and laid down laws. But it is equally\nevident that speculative zeal was bound to fall off as soon as the\nprovince of art was enlarged and its products differentiated.\n\nEven the more intimate knowledge of classical culture which was\nsubsequently gained, necessitated important corrections in \u00e6sthetic\ndogmas. The artistic activities of savage tribes, which have been\npractically unknown to \u00e6sthetic writers until recent years, display\nmany features that cannot be harmonised with the general laws. And in\na yet higher degree contemporary art defies the generalisations of a\nuniform theory. With greater mastery over materials and technique, the\ndifferent arts have been able to produce more and more specialised\nforms of beauty. The painter\u2019s ideal can no longer be confused with\nthat of the poet or the story-teller, nor the sculptor\u2019s with that\nof the actor. Pure music, pure poetry, pure painting, thus develop\ninto isolated, independent arts, of which each one establishes its\nown laws and conditions for itself. The critic who, in spite of this\nevolution, tries to apply a narrow \u00e6sthetic standard of beauty to\nall the various arts may indeed\u2014according to his influence\u2014delay\nthe public appreciation of modern works, and thus indirectly impede\nartistic development. But no amount of theorising will enable him to\narrest the growth of artistic forms whose very existence contradicts\nthe generalisations of the old systems. And he is equally powerless to\nstop such violations of the supposed frontiers of the different arts\nas continually occur, for instance, in descriptive music, or in poetry\nlike that of Gautier, which aims at producing a pictorial impression by\nmeans of words.\n\nIt is only natural that, in times so inopportune, general speculations\non art and beauty have been more and more abandoned in favour of\ndetailed studies in the technicalities of art, historical researches\nin which works of art are considered chiefly as documents bearing on\nculture, and experiments on the physiology and psychology of \u00e6sthetic\nperception. For art itself and its development it would perhaps be\nunimportant if a science which has never exercised any great positive\nand direct influence on artistic production should completely\ndisappear. But from the theoretical point of view it would be matter\nfor regret if artistic activities ceased to be considered as a whole.\nAnd so also would it be if \u00e6sthetic feelings, judgments of taste,\nand ideals of beauty came to be treated only in appendices to works\non psychology. It is true that all these notions have irremediably\nlost their former metaphysical and philosophical importance. But in\ncompensation, art and beauty have for modern thinking acquired a\nsocial and psychological significance. To determine the part which the\nproduction and the enjoyment of works of art play in their relation to\nthe other factors of individual and social life\u2014that is indeed a task\nwhich is momentous enough to be treated in a science of its own. Modern\n\u00e6sthetic, therefore, has still its own ends, which, if not so ambitious\nas those of the former speculative science of beauty, are nevertheless\nof no small importance. These ends, however, can no longer be attained\nby the procedure of the old \u00e6sthetic systems. As the problems have\nchanged with changing conditions, so too the methods must be brought\ninto line with the general scientific development. Historical and\npsychological investigation must replace the dialectic treatment of the\nsubject. Art can no longer be deduced from general, philosophical, and\nmetaphysical principles; it must be studied\u2014by the methods of inductive\npsychology\u2014as a human activity. Beauty cannot be considered as a\nsemi-transcendental reality; it must be interpreted as an object of\nhuman longing and a source of human enjoyment. In \u00e6sthetic proper, as\nwell as in the philosophy of art, every research must start, not from\ntheoretical assumptions, but from the psychological and sociological\ndata of the \u00e6sthetic life.\n\nSuch a procedure, however, is encumbered with difficulties, of which\nthe writers on speculative \u00e6sthetic were scarcely aware. When theories\nof art and beauty were based on general _a priori_ principles, there\ncould not possibly be any doubt as to the point of departure in the\nseveral researches. But when we have no assumptions to start from, the\nvery demarcation of the subject may become a matter of uncertainty.\nIn the philosophy of art, to which department of \u00e6sthetic I wish\nto restrict my researches in the present work, this difficulty of\nformulating the data and _qu\u00e6sita_\u2014the facts which we have to go upon,\nand the facts which we wish to find out\u2014constitutes the first, and by\nno means the least important, problem.\n\nIf we are to embark upon a scientific treatment of art without any\npreconceived definitions, the aim and conditions of such treatment\ncan only be determined by examining the prevailing notions on the\nsubject, as they are expressed in language and in literature. As an\ninterpretation for general use and of general applicability, a theory\nof art can claim attention only if it conforms to the recognised\nusage of the principal \u00e6sthetic terms. In the various definitions of\nart which are contained in the different \u00e6sthetic systems, we must\ntherefore try to find some point of unity from which to approach our\nsubject. The difficulties of such a task are evident to any one who\nhas gone through the discouraging experience of reading a history of\n\u00e6sthetic. The investigator who seeks an accurate demarcation of the\nwhole area of art, as distinguished from other departments of life,\nmeets with partial definitions which can be applied only to certain\nfixed forms of art. We need mention but a few of the most typical\ninstances. Even an ardent admirer of Taine is compelled to admit that\nhis generalisations are too exclusively derived from the study of\npoetry and the formative arts. In the same way it is only by laborious\nadjustments that the theory of Vischer can be applied to music and\nlyric poetry; the aphorisms of Ruskin do not even pretend to apply to\nany but the formative arts; and Mr. Marshall\u2019s _\u00c6sthetic Principles_\u2014to\nadduce one of the most recent attempts in general art-theory\u2014are too\nobviously those of an expert in architecture. In none of the modern\nsystems has sufficient room been made for certain forms of art which,\nfrom the evolutionist\u2019s standpoint, are of the highest importance: such\nas acting, dancing, and decoration. All the one-sided definitions are,\nmoreover, so inconsistent with each other that it seems impossible to\nmake up for their individual deficiencies by an eclectic combination.\nIt is not to be wondered at, therefore, if some writers on art,\nconfused by the bewildering contradictions of \u00e6sthetic theories, have\ncalled in question the very existence of any universal art-criterion.[4]\n\nThose who adopt this attitude\u2014which seems the more justified now that\nthe arts have become widely differentiated\u2014deny the possibility, not\nonly of all general art-philosophy, but also of any sociological and\npsychological treatment of artistic activities as a whole. But even if\nall other hypotheses are banished, \u00e6sthetic research cannot possibly\ndispense with the fundamental assumption of the unity of art. And in\npoint of fact there can be found in most systems, if we do not insist\non too minute and positive demarcations, at least one common quality\nwhich is ascribed to all its different forms. Notwithstanding the\nmutual contradictions of art-theories, the believers in a general\n\u00e6sthetic can always appeal to the consent with which the majority of\nauthors have upheld the negative criterion of art. Metaphysicians as\nwell as psychologists, Hegelians as well as Darwinians, all agree in\ndeclaring that a work, or performance, which can be proved to serve any\nutilitarian, non-\u00e6sthetic object must not be considered as a genuine\nwork of art. True art has its one end in itself, and rejects every\nextraneous purpose: that is the doctrine which, with more or less\nexplicitness, has been stated by Kant,[5] Schiller,[6] Spencer,[7]\nHennequin,[8] Grosse,[9] Grant Allen,[10] and others. And popular\nopinion agrees in this respect with the conclusions of science. This\ndistinctive quality of independence seems therefore to afford us a\nconvenient starting-point for the treatment of art in general.\n\nOwing to its negative character, this criterion does not give us much\ninformation as to the real qualities of art. But even the poorest\ndefinition is enough to begin with, if it only holds good with regard\nto all particular cases. Unfortunately, however, we need only apply\nthe test of independence in the concrete instance to find that even\nthe applicability of this single accepted criterion may be seriously\ndisputed. There is scarcely any author, however he may formulate his\ngeneral definitions of art, who would assess the relative value of\nart-works according to their degrees of disinterestedness. No candid\nman would, for instance, nowadays contend that an arabesque composition\nis _per se_ more \u00e6sthetically pure than a statue or a poem.[11] But\nwe may even go farther. We must question whether every work of art\nought to be degraded from its \u00e6sthetic rank, if it can be convicted of\nhaving served any external utilitarian purpose. This strict conception\nof the \u00e6sthetic boundaries has been eloquently attacked by Guyau in\nhis celebrated treatise, _Le principe de l\u2019art et de la po\u00e9sie_.[12]\nThough the ultimate conclusions of this work are perhaps not so clear\nas might be desired, yet we do not see how his attitude in estimating\nconcrete manifestations of art can be assailed. It would, to take an\nexample, be absurd to contend that the singing of Taillefer lost in\n\u00e6sthetic value by contributing to the victory of Hastings. And however\nstrictly we may insist upon the requirement that every genuine work\nof art should have been created purely for its own sake, we cannot\npossibly conceal the fact that some of the world\u2019s finest love lyrics\nwere originally composed, not in \u00e6sthetic freedom, which is independent\nof all by-purposes, but with the express end of gaining the ear and\nthe favour of a beloved woman. The influence which such foreign,\nnon-\u00e6sthetic motives have exercised on art will also become more and\nmore apparent with increased knowledge of the conditions of \u00e6sthetic\nproduction. The further the psychological biographer pushes his\nindiscreet researches into the private life of individual artists, the\nmore often will he find that some form of interest\u2014personal, political,\nethical, religious\u2014enters into the so-called disinterested \u00e6sthetic\nactivity. Such instances must induce undogmatic authors to relax to\nsome extent the strict application of this criterion. And even those\nphilosophers who, in spite of the historical evidence, insist upon\napplying it will be compelled to admit that they have taken for works\nof genuine art productions which, from their philosophic standpoint,\nhave no claim to the title.\n\nThe danger of such mistakes is all the greater when one has to deal\nwith the lower stages of artistic development. In point of fact recent\nethnological researches have conclusively proved that it is not only\ndifficult, but quite impossible, to apply the criterion of \u00e6sthetic\nindependence to the productions of savage and barbarous tribes. It is\ntrue that the large province of primitive art has not as yet in its\nentirety been made the subject of systematic study. But, on the other\nhand, the results which have been arrived at with regard to decoration,\nits most typical form, amply bear out our view. In almost every case\nwhere the ornaments of a tribe have been closely examined, it has\nappeared that what to us seems a mere embellishment is for the natives\nin question full of practical, non-\u00e6sthetic significance. Carvings on\nweapons and implements, tattooings, woven and plaited patterns, all\nof which the uncritical observer is apt to take for purely artistic\ncompositions, are now explained as religious symbols, owners\u2019 marks,\nor ideograms. There is still room for discussion as to whether in\ncertain individual interpretations the tendency to look for concealed\nmeanings has not been carried too far. But there can be no doubt that\nthe general principles which to many students seemed so fantastic\nwhen first formulated by Stolpe, Read,[13] and others, have derived\nadditional support from every fresh inquiry into primitive systems of\ndecoration.\n\nThe isolated researches which have been carried on within the\ndepartment of primitive literature and drama all point in the same\ndirection. Wherever ethnologists have the opportunity of gaining some\ninsight into the inner life of a savage tribe, they are surprised at\nthe religious or magical significance which lies concealed behind\nthe most apparently trivial of amusements. And it is to be remarked\nthat they have learned to appreciate this esoteric meaning, not by a\ncloser study of the manifestations themselves, but through information\nacquired by intercourse with the natives. There is often not a single\nfeature in a savage dance which would give the uninitiated any reason\nto suspect the non-\u00e6sthetic purpose. When North American Indians,\nKaffirs, or Negroes perform a dance in which all the movements of the\nanimals they hunt are imitated, we unavoidably see in their antics an\ninstance of primitive but still purely artistic drama. It is only from\nthe descriptions of Catlin, Lichtenstein, and Reade[14] that we learn\nthat these pantomimes have in reality quite as practical a purpose\nas those imitations and representations of animals by which hunters\nall over the world try to entice their game within shooting distance.\nAccording to the doctrine of sympathetic magic, it is simply an\naxiomatic truth that the copy of a thing may at any distance influence\nthe thing itself, and that thus a buffalo dance, even when it is\nperformed in the camp, may compel the buffaloes to come within range of\nthe hunters. But the deceptive appearance of disinterestedness, which\nin these cases might have led one to mistake a mere piece of hunting\nmagic for a specimen of pure dramatic art, is apt to make us cautious\nabout accepting as independently \u00e6sthetic any performance of primitive\nman.\n\nIn the songs and dances by which savages exhort themselves to work and\nregulate their exertions we find an aspect of utilitarian advantage\nwhich is real and not imaginary. Evidently also this advantage,\nand not any independent \u00e6sthetic pleasure, is\u2014intentionally or\nunintentionally\u2014aimed at in the war-pantomimes, the boating songs,\ndances, etc. And it is no doubt for this reason that music and dance\nhave attained so surprising a development in the lower stages of\nculture. In trying, therefore, to explain the historical development of\nart, we are compelled to take into account that foreign purpose which\nis repudiated in art-theory.\n\nIf every work of art were really an end in itself\u2014a\n_Selbstzweck_\u2014standing quite isolated from all the practical utilities\nof life, it would be nothing less than a miracle that art should be\nmet with in tribes which have not yet learnt to satisfy, nor even to\nfeel, the most elementary necessities of life. In such a case it is\nnot music only which would, as Wallace thinks, have to be explained\nby supernatural causes:[15] primitive art in all its departments\nwould baffle our attempts at rational interpretation. By studying,\nhowever, the artistic activities of savage and barbarous man in their\nconnection with his non-\u00e6sthetic life, writers on evolutionary \u00e6sthetic\nhave succeeded in solving this great crux of art-history. The dances,\npoems, and even the formative arts of the lower tribes possess indeed,\nas every ethnologist will admit, unquestionable \u00e6sthetic value.\nBut this art is seldom free and disinterested; it has generally a\nusefulness\u2014real or supposed\u2014and is often even a necessity of life.[16]\n\nA historical conception of art is thus, it appears, incompatible with\na strict maintenance of the \u00e6sthetic criterion. But it may still be\nasked whether we are therefore compelled to join Guyau in abolishing\nall distinctions between art and other manifestations of human\nenergy.[17] By doing away with the only definition which is common\nto the majority of \u00e6sthetic systems, we should dissociate ourselves\nfrom all previous views on art. And it seems hard to believe that all\ndogmatic writers on \u00e6sthetic, one-sided as they may often seem, have\nfounded their theories on a pure fiction. The independent \u00e6sthetic\nactivity, which simply aims at its own satisfaction, cannot have been\ninvented for the sake of the systems. The mere fact that so many\ntheories have been proposed for its explanation furnishes, it seems to\nus, a sufficient proof that the conception of this activity corresponds\nto some psychological reality. Certainly the \u201cend in itself\u201d has not\nplayed so important a part in the practice of artists as writers on\n\u00e6sthetic would have us believe; and it is impossible to distinguish\nits effects in concrete individual instances. But from all we know\nof the life and work of artists, there appears to be a tendency\u2014more\nor less consciously followed, it is true, in different cases\u2014to make\nthe work its own end. And in the public we can in the same way notice\nan inclination\u2014which grows with increasing culture\u2014to regard art\nas something which exists for its own sake, and to contemplate its\nmanifestations with independent \u00e6sthetic attention. Whatever we may\nthink about the genesis of particular pictures and poems, we know that\nat least they need no utilitarian, non-\u00e6sthetic justification in order\nto be appreciated by us. And with as much assurance as we can ever\nfeel in comparative psychology we may take it for granted that the\nsame way of looking at art has prevailed in other stages of culture\nas well. However cautious one may be in drawing conclusions from\nanalogies between higher and lower forms, a closer study of primitive\nart must needs compel every one to admit that these dances, poems, and\nornaments, even if they originally served practical, religious, or\npolitical aims, may at least have come by degrees to be enjoyed in the\nsame way as we enjoy our art. By denying such subjective independence\nin the creation and enjoyment of art, we should be no less guilty\nof one-sidedness than those authors who deny that genuine art has\never been influenced by \u201cforeign purposes.\u201d If it is presumptuous to\nadduce any particular works or manifestations in proof of free and\nindependent production, it may be no less audacious to contend that\neven the most primitive form of art has flourished in tribes destitute\nof all \u00e6sthetic cravings. There is room for discussion on the degree\nof influence which \u201cautotelic\u201d[18] artistic activity has exercised in\nparticular works and manifestations. It may also be made an object of\nresearch to determine at which precise stage of development \u00e6sthetic\nattention becomes so emancipated as to entitle us to speak of a pure\nand free art-life. But it does not seem that such inquiries can ever\nlead to any positive result. The more one studies art, especially\nprimitive art, from a comparative and historical point of view, the\nmore one is compelled to admit the impossibility of deciding where\nthe non-\u00e6sthetic motives end and the \u00e6sthetic motives begin. The only\nresult we can reach is the somewhat indefinite one that it is as\nimpossible to explain away the artistic purpose as it is to detect its\npresence in a pure state in any concrete work of art.\n\nFor art-philosophy as a distinct science even this non-committal\nconclusion is of vital importance. It gives us a right to regard all\nthe forms and developments of art as witnesses to an activity which\ntends to become more and more independent of the immediate utilities of\nlife. This tendency, on the other hand, not only affords us a point of\nunity from which to start upon a research into the general philosophy\nof art; it also presents to us one of the greatest problems of the same\nscience. How it is that mankind has come to devote energy and zeal\nto an activity which may be almost entirely devoid of a utilitarian\npurpose is indeed the riddle, sociological as well as psychological,\nwhich would seem in the first place to claim the attention of the\nphilosopher. To the writer of this book, at any rate, it appeared that\na discussion, and an attempt at solution, of this seeming paradox was\na task sufficiently important and interesting to form of itself the\nsubject of a special investigation.\n\nBut although the aspects of autotelic artistic activity give us at once\na datum and a problem on which we may confidently base our research,\nwe must not overlook the peculiar difficulties that will necessarily\narise from the exclusively psychological, non-historical character of\nthis basis. A historic study of art shows us that the artistic activity\nproper can never be explained by examining concrete works as we meet\nthem in reality. Whenever we have to deal with art as autotelic, the\nneed of theoretical abstraction forces itself upon us with irresistible\ncogency. It is of no avail to argue from the data of art-history,\nbecause we can never fully know the mental origin of the works.\nThe problem presented to us by the tendency to engage in artistic\nproduction and artistic enjoyment for their own sake can only be\nsolved by studying the psychology both of artists and of their public.\nThe \u201cart-impulse\u201d and the \u201cart-sense,\u201d as referring to subjective\ntendencies in creators and spectators, are the chief notions with which\nwe have to operate in such an investigation. And when we are obliged to\nintroduce the notion of the \u201cwork of art\u201d we have to remember that this\nterm, strictly speaking, refers to an abstract and ideal datum. Only\nby thus restricting our attention to the psychical facts can we attain\nany clear conception of that autotelic aspect of art on which so much\nstress has been laid in all \u00e6sthetic philosophy.\n\nIt is needless to say, however, that even a purely philosophic\ninterpretation of art would be impossible without a knowledge of its\nworks and manifestations as they appear in real life, with all their\nextraneous, non-\u00e6sthetic elements. The psychological examination must\ntherefore necessarily be supplemented by an historical one. The methods\nof the latter research cannot be the same as those used in a strictly\n\u00e6sthetic inquiry. And the words will naturally be employed in a\ndifferent sense. We do not at that stage demand of a poem, a painting,\nor a drama, that it should fulfil more than the technical requirements\nof the several arts. The ornamentation of a vase, _e.g._ is in this\nsense a work of art even if it serves a magical, _i.e._ a supposed\npractical purpose. Indeed it is most advantageous, if we wish to bring\nout the influence of sociological factors with the greatest possible\nclearness, to concentrate our attention upon the very qualities which\nwe have to disregard in the treatment of purely artistic activity. The\nproductions of primitive tribes, in which art is so closely connected\nwith life, supply the most profitable material for such a study. After\nhaving examined, in these simple forms, all the sociological aspects\nof art, it will be possible to place the two art-factors in the most\nillustrative antithesis and to study their mutual influence. From this\nit should be possible to suggest\u2014although in this work no detailed\nattempt will be made to follow out the reasoning\u2014why it is that the\nconcrete work of art, although its historical origin may be entirely\nnon-\u00e6sthetic, has always proved so eminently adapted to serve the needs\nof the purely aesthetic craving. And by starting from the conception of\n\u00e6sthetic activities which has been arrived at on psychological grounds,\nit should also be possible to determine the particular qualities in\nindividual works of art which make them more or less able to satisfy\nthis craving. Thus a theory of the psychological and sociological\norigins of art may furnish suggestions for those which have been\nconsidered as distinctive of \u00e6sthetic proper, such as the critical\nestimation of works of art, or the derivation of laws which govern\nartistic production.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER II\n\n                            THE ART-IMPULSE\n\n\nThere are two things which have to be investigated\u2014the reason why\nworks of art are created, and the reason why works of art are enjoyed.\nBy choosing at the outset to approach art in its active aspect\u2014to\nexamine into the impulse of the artist\u2014we do not desert the central\nfield of \u00e6sthetic inquiry. On the contrary, it seems that a study of\nart-production affords the most convenient starting-point for any\ncomprehensive treatment of art; all the more because every \u00e6sthetic\npleasure, even when apparently most passive, always involves an element\nof unconscious artistic creation.[19] When absorbed in the beauty of\nnature we do in fact appear to ourselves to be entirely receptive;\nbut in truth our enjoyment, if the enjoyment has any \u00e6sthetic value\nat all, is always more or less derived from the activity of our own\nmind. It does not matter much, from the psychological point of view,\nwhether we make an abortive but original effort to select and arrange\nthe impressions which we receive, as is the case when a new aspect\nof nature delights us, or whether we merely reproduce at second hand\nthe impression originally arranged by an artist, as happens when we\nadmire a statue, or recognise in a landscape some effect that Turner\nhas recorded.[20] In either case the passive attitude can never be\nexplained without reference to the active one.\n\nIn the historic interpretation of art it is of no less importance\nto study its productive side. It is only by considering art as an\nactivity that we can explain the great influence which it has exercised\non social as well as on individual life. These are, however, views\nwhich can only be properly established in the later chapters. Here\nwe have merely to dwell on the aspects which present themselves to\nthe psychological observer; and there is no doubt that from his point\nof view the impulse to produce works of pure art constitutes the\nchief \u00e6sthetic problem. If once the creation has been satisfactorily\naccounted for, it is relatively easy to explain the subsequent\nenjoyment of art. Accordingly, by concentrating our attention on the\nart-impulse we approach the art-problem at its very core.\n\nIt has, however, been contended by some authors that the independence\nof external motives is nothing peculiar to art-production. There is,\nundoubtedly, a certain kind of scientific study\u2014for instance, some\ndepartments of higher mathematics\u2014which may be carried on entirely\nfor its own sake without any regard to practical application, or even\nto increased knowledge of nature. And it is even more impossible to\nfind any immediate utilitarian purpose for all the intense activity,\nmental and physical, which is devoted to sports and games. Every one\nknows that the \u201cend in itself\u201d which any of these affords may in many\ncases exercise as great an attraction as any of the utilitarian aims\nin life. Chess is said to have a demoniac power over its devotees,\nand the attachment of a golfer to his game can only be described in\nthe language of the most intense passion. The same sacrifice of energy\nand interests to a one-sided and apparently useless purpose, which\nin art seems so mysterious, may thus, as Professor Groos remarks, be\nfound in activities of far less repute.[21] It is evident that if\nartistic creation were in no wise different from these other examples\nof autotelic manifestations, there would be no ground for considering\nthe art-impulse as a separate or distinctive problem.\n\nWe can scarcely believe, however, that even Professor Groos himself\nwould seriously maintain the parallel between art-production and the\nlast-mentioned activities. There are indeed cases in which a man of\nscience devotes his whole energy to a task which is so abstract that\nit seems to give no satisfaction to the craving for positive truth.\nBut it is always an open question whether the attractiveness of such\nresearches is not, strictly speaking, more \u00e6sthetic than scientific.\nHigher mathematics is perhaps, for those that live in the world of\nabstract quantities, only an abstract form of art, a soundless music or\na wordless poetry. In other cases the eagerness with which pure science\nis pursued as an autotelic end may be explained as a result of acquired\nhabits. Like the miser, the passionate researcher may often gradually\nlose sight of the ultimate aim of his activity and concentrate all\nhis attention on the means. There can be no question of denying the\nemotional value and the great attractive force which thus comes to be\nattached to these secondary purposes. But in comparing such autotelic\nactivities to those of art we have to remember that the passion,\nhowever intense it may be, is probably not primary but derived;\nand it is in any case self-evident that it can be developed only in\nexceptional cases and in peculiarly predisposed individuals.\n\nBy the same criterion we can also separate the art-desire from the love\nof games and sports. However passionate the sporting mania may be in\nindividuals or nations, it can never be compared as a universal and\nprimary impulse with the craving for \u00e6sthetic creation. Philosophers\nwho bestow their whole attention only on the mature works which can\nbe studied in the history of art, may indeed contend that even the\nart-impulse is given to some favoured few. But this view, which would\nreduce all art-life to the status of a great and marvellous exception,\ncannot possibly be upheld in a psychological \u00e6sthetic.\n\nIt is, no doubt, the fact that the percentage of executive artists in\nmodern nations is an almost negligible quantity. It is also probable\nthat\u2014contrary to a common notion\u2014the poets, the painters, and the\ndramatists form a distinct class even among the lower tribes.[22]\nBut in treating the art-impulse as a psychological phenomenon the\ninquiry cannot be restricted to the few individuals who publicly\npractise a certain art. As far as the artistic _powers_ are concerned,\nthese undoubtedly stand apart from the rest of mankind. But we are\nnot entitled to maintain that they are also distinguished by some\npeculiar psychical _impulse_. From the point of view of artistic\nperfection, there is all the world between the youthful verses of\nGoethe and the doggerel of a common schoolboy. But, psychologically,\nthe schoolboy\u2019s doggerel may be the result of as strong a craving for\npoetic expression as any of the world\u2019s greatest poems.[23] Bad or\ngood, known or unknown, every manifestation of artistic activity is\nequally illustrative for our purpose. We have to count with the immense\nnumber of dilettanti who produce in privacy and in secret, as well\nas with recognised artists. And even those unfortunate persons who\nhave never been able to find for themselves any satisfactory mode of\n\u00e6sthetic expression may still be adduced in proof of the universality\nof the artistic desire. If the notion of art is conceived in its most\ngeneral sense, every normal man, at some time of his life at least, is\nan artist\u2014in aspiration, if not in capacity.\n\nIf, moreover, we take into consideration the eagerness and devotion\nwhich is lavished upon artistic activity\u2014not least, perhaps, by those\nwho have never appeared as artists\u2014we shall be compelled to admit that\nthe art-impulse is not only commoner, but also stronger and deeper,\nthan any of the above-mentioned non-utilitarian impulses. If it can\nbe explained at all, it is only by deriving it from some great and\nfundamental tendency of the human mind. This fact has, naturally\nenough, not been realised by those writers on \u00e6sthetic who only study\nthe ideal work of art as it appears among civilised nations. In\nshort, the great systems of \u00e6sthetic philosophy have never expressly\nstated the problem of finding an origin for the art-impulse; and any\ninterpretation of that impulse which may be derived constructively\nfrom their speculations upon the work of acknowledged artists is\nirreconcilable with the wider notion of art as a universal human\nactivity. If the aim of every artist really were, as Vischer must\nhave thought, to reinstate by the creation of a semblance the Idea in\nthe position from which it is in Reality always thrust by material\naccidents; if he desired, for instance, to show a human character as it\nwould be but for the accidents of life;[24] or if, to use the language\nof Taine, the artist\u2019s main object were to produce a representation of\nnature in which the essential characters enjoy an absolute sovereignty;\nif he strove to depict a lion in such a way to emphasise specially\nthese leonine traits which distinguish the lion from any other great\ncat,[25]\u2014then it would be hard to understand the attraction which\nart has exercised on people who are almost devoid of intellectual\ncravings. We could not possibly find any connection between modern\nand primitive art. Nor could we explain why, for instance, poetry and\nmusic are so often cultivated by persons who do not otherwise show\nthe slightest eagerness to understand the hidden nature of things,\nwho do not meddle with ideas or \u201cdominating faculties.\u201d Even in the\ncase of philosophically-minded artists such motives are probably\nsomewhat feeble. The intellectualistic definitions may perhaps explain\nthe \u00e6sthetic qualities of the work of art itself. But they can never\naccount for the constraining force by which every genuine work of art\nis called into existence.\n\nThere are some authors, however, who have felt the need of a dynamic\nexplanation of the art-impulse, which should trace the motive force\nto its origin. It was so with Aristotle when he interpreted artistic\nproduction as a manifestation of the desire to imitate. By this theory\nart is indeed brought into connection with a general animal impulse,\nthe \u00e6sthetic importance of which can scarcely be overestimated. It\nis only by reference to the psychology of imitative movements that\nwe shall be able to explain the enjoyment of art. But it seems,\nnevertheless, somewhat strained to make imitation the basis and purpose\nof artistic activity, seeing that there are various forms of art, as,\nfor instance, architecture and purely lyrical music or poetry, in which\nwe can scarcely detect any imitative element at all. The theories of\nAristotle, of Seneca, and all their modern followers, can only be\nupheld if the word \u201cimitation\u201d is used in a much wider sense than\nthat which it generally bears. But even those who, with Engel, would\nconsider the bodily movements as \u201cimitating the thoughts,\u201d[26] or those\nwho in \u00e6sthetic would speak of \u201ccirculary reaction\u201d[27] as a phenomenon\nof imitation, would find it hard to discover in any of these relatively\nautomatic manifestations such a mental compulsion as that which impels\nto artistic activity. Moreover, as we need scarcely point out, art in\nall its forms always strives after something more than a mere likeness.\n\nIt seems equally superfluous to emphasise the fact that no genuine\nartist has made it his sole object to please. The fatal confusion\nbetween art-theory and the science of beauty has indeed led some\nwriters on \u00e6sthetic to derive artistic activities from an impulse\nto \u201cproduce objects or objective conditions which should attract by\npleasing.\u201d[28] Such views will especially recommend themselves to\nthose who believe in an animal art called forth by sexual selection.\nNor can it be denied that the means of attraction employed in the\ncompetition for the favour of the opposite sex supply a part of the\nmaterial which is used in the various arts.[29] With the artistic\nimpulse itself, which, according to its very definition, is independent\nof external motives, the various means of attraction have no connection\nwhatever.[30]\n\nFrom the theoretical point of view it is undoubtedly easier to\ndefend Professor Baldwin\u2019s way of stating the case, in which the\n\u201cself-exhibiting impulse\u201d takes the place of the \u201cinstinct to attract\nby pleasing.\u201d[31] Figuratively speaking, an element of self-exhibition\nis involved in every artistic creation which addresses itself to a\npublic. And without a public\u2014in the largest sense of the word\u2014no art\nwould ever have appeared. But it seems somewhat difficult to make this\nself-exhibiting\u2014in a sense which implies an actual audience\u2014the aim and\npurpose of, for instance, the most intimate and personal examples of\nlyrical poetry.\n\nIt may of course be contended, by those who advocate the importance\nof the last-mentioned interpretations, that the variety of art-forms\ncompels us to assume, not one, but several art-impulses. At this stage\nof our research we cannot enter upon a discussion of such views; but it\nwill at least be admitted that explanations which can be applied in the\nwhole field of art must be preferable to partial definitions.\n\nThis merit of universality, at least, cannot be denied to the theories\nwhich derive art from the playing impulse. The notion of a sportive\nactivity involves precisely that freedom from external, consciously\nutilitarian motives which, according to the consensus of almost all\nwriters on \u00e6sthetic, is required in every genuine manifestation of\nart. It is not surprising, therefore, that it was by reference to the\nplay-impulse that Schiller tried to distinguish artistic production\nfrom all \u201cunfree\u201d forms of activity.[32] It is true that the notion\nof \u201cplay\u201d as used by Schiller and Spencer\u2014who has given the theory\na physiological foundation\u2014is chiefly important as a negative\ndemarcation. But even Schiller brings in a positive factor when he\nspeaks of the force by which \u201coverflowing life itself urges the animal\nto action\u201d (\u201cwenn das \u00fcberfl\u00fcssige Leben sich selbst zur Th\u00e4tigkeit\nstachelt\u201d).[33] In Spencer\u2019s theory, on the other hand, the \u201cexcessive\nreadiness\u201d to nervous discharge which accompanies every surplus of\nvigour, and which, in his view, accounts for play, represents a motor\nelement, the impelling force of which must be considered as very\nstrong.[34] As is well known, Spencer, Wallace, and Hudson have applied\nthis principle of surplus energy to explain so-called animal art,\nrejecting the theory which ascribes \u00e6sthetic judgment to the female.[35]\n\nAs formulated by the last-mentioned authors, the play-theory is,\nhowever, open to objection from a physiological point of view. It has\nbeen remarked by Dr. Wallaschek that, in speaking of animals, the\nphrase \u201csurplus of vigour\u201d ought to be superseded by \u201cinapplicability\nof energy\u201d or \u201cunemployed energy.\u201d[36] And still more explicitly\nProfessor Groos has shown that a stored-up supply of energy is by no\nmeans a necessary condition for play.[37] But these criticisms have\nby no means deprived the play-instinct of its importance as a dynamic\nfactor. Since Groos by his epoch-making researches has been able to\nprove that the majority of games\u2014especially the games of youth\u2014are\nbased upon instincts, we can adduce as an impelling force \u201cthe demon\ninstinct that urges and even compels to activity not only if and so\nlong as the vessel overflows (to use a figure of speech), but even\nwhen there is but a last drop left in it.\u201d[38] By considering artistic\nactivity as a kind of play, one is therefore able to account for its\ngreat attractiveness, even when no \u201csurplus of vigour\u201d can be shown to\nexist.\n\nIn the beginning of this chapter we did indeed contend that the\n\u201ccompulsion\u201d which prompts to artistic activity is too strong to\nbe even compared with the passion for sports and games. But this\nsuperiority may of course be explained as a result of some peculiarity\nof this special kind of play. As a matter of fact art is, in a far\nhigher degree than any of the sports and games, able to satisfy the\n_greatest_ and most _fundamental_ instincts of man. Groos has tried\nto prove that the artistic motives which in all times have been\nmost popular, offer to the spectator as well as to the producer an\nopportunity for warlike and erotic stimulation;[39] and Guyau had\nalready remarked how important a part the moods of war, or rather of\nstruggle, play in all enjoyment of art.[40] It is easy to understand\nthe eager prosecution of an activity which thus affords free, if\nimaginary, exercise for instincts and tendencies which would otherwise\nbe thwarted by the narrow restrictions of social life. We are all\nanimals in captivity, and we eagerly seize every kind of vicarious\nfunction which can give at least a memory of the life from which we are\nexcluded.\n\nAt lower stages of social evolution, where instincts are more in\nharmony with life, the play-element in art must evidently be of\nstill greater importance. Artistic production and artistic enjoyment\nprovide exercise for those very functions which are most important in\nreal life. Art fulfils a great social mission, and is developed in\nsubservience to the struggle for life. The play-theory, as formulated\nby Professor Groos, affords, therefore, in many cases an explanation of\nthe high artistic level reached by the lower tribes. In our historical\ntreatment of primitive dances and dramas we shall be continually\nobliged to have recourse to this theory. And it will thus appear that\nit is no deficient appreciation of its importance which compels us to\nlook elsewhere for an explanation for the artistic impulse.\n\nPlay and art have indeed many important characteristics in common.\nNeither of them has any immediate practical utility, and both of them\ndo nevertheless serve some of the fundamental needs of life. All\nart, therefore, can in a certain sense be called play. But art is\nsomething more than this. The aim of play is attained when the surplus\nof vigour is discharged or the instinct has had its momentary exercise.\nBut the function of art is not confined to the act of production; in\nevery manifestation of art, properly so called, something is made and\nsomething survives. It is true that in certain manifestations\u2014for\ninstance in the dance or in acting\u2014the effect is destroyed as soon as\ncreated; it survives only in the rhythm devised by the dancer, or in\nthe spectator\u2019s memory of the part played. But this is accidental, not\nessential to the nature of the arts as arts. On the other hand, there\nis nothing in the nature of the play-impulse to call for a stereotyping\nof the state of mind and feelings to which it gives rise. Still less\ncan the artistic qualities, such as beauty and rhythm, which, however\ndifficult to define scientifically, always characterise works of\nart, be interpreted as a result of the play-impulse. The theories of\nSchiller, Spencer, and Groos may indeed explain the negative criterion\nof art, but they cannot, any more than the imitation theories or the\nDarwinian interpretation, give us any positive information as to the\nnature of art.\n\nIn order to understand the art-impulse as a tendency to \u00e6sthetic\nproduction, we must bring it into connection with some function, from\nthe nature of which the specifically artistic qualities may be derived.\nSuch a function is to be found, we believe, in the activities of\nemotional expression.\n\nIt is therefore to the psychology of feeling and expression that we\nshall turn for the solution of the problem of the art-impulse.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER III\n\n                     THE FEELING-TONE OF SENSATION\n\n\nBefore attempting to prove that the impelling force in art-creation\nis to be explained by the psychology of feeling, we must first pay\nsome attention to the general theory of emotional states. It would be\nimpossible to assert anything about the \u00e6sthetic importance of such\nactivities as have their origin in emotional conditions without first\nhaving made out the relation between feeling and movement.\n\nIn this purely psychological investigation it is advantageous to\npostpone all \u00e6sthetic considerations. The important thing is to get\nhold of the mental factors in their simplest possible form. Even\nthe lowest feelings, therefore, the feeling-tones of mere physical\nsensation or the vaguest emotional states, such as comfort or\ndiscomfort, which are overlooked in all works on \u00e6sthetic proper, may\nbe of great value in this preliminary discussion.\n\nIt is preferable to begin with the feeling-tones of definitely physical\norigin, because these hedonic elements have been subjected to an\nexperimental investigation which could never be undertaken with regard\nto the complex emotions and sentiments. As early as 1887 F\u00e9r\u00e9 published\nsome important researches on the relation between sensation and\nmovement. By submitting persons to various external stimuli, he showed\nthat every such stimulus calls forth a modification of the activities\nof the body, which modification, according to the intensity and the\nduration of the stimulus, takes the character either of enhancement\nor of arrest. In all cases when the apparatus used in the experiments\nindicated a shortened reaction-time and an increased development of\nenergy, the subject of the experiment had experienced a feeling of\npleasure. Every painful stimulus, on the other hand, was connected with\na diminution of energy.[41]\n\nThese results have been corroborated in the main by the later\nresearches of Lehmann. He has not, however, restricted his attention\nto the development of energy, but has also measured the changes in\npulsation and respiration which occur under the influence of various\nstimuli. His conclusions are these:\u2014\n\n\u201cSimple pleasurable sensations are accompanied by dilatation of the\nblood-vessels, and perhaps also by an increase in the amplitude of\nheart-contraction, together with an increase in the innervation of the\nvoluntary muscles, at least of those connected with respiration. In\nsensations of pain one has to distinguish the first shock of irritation\nfrom the subsequent state. At the moment of irritation there ensues a\ndeeper inhalation, and, if the irritation is strong, also an increase\nin the innervation of voluntary muscles. Then there generally follows a\nrelaxation.\u201d[42]\n\nThe physiological theory of pleasure and pain which can be deduced\nfrom these experiments is, however, neither new nor original. F\u00e9r\u00e9\nhas himself pointed out that his researches only serve to prove the\nviews which have been advanced with more or less explicitness by Kant,\nBain, Darwin, and Dumont.[43] All authors who have closely studied the\nmovements of expression have also remarked that pleasurable feelings\nare accompanied by a tendency towards increased activity (Gratiolet,\nDarwin, Bain, Bouillier, Mantegazza).[44] And the popular views on\npleasure and pain, as we find them expressed in literature, all agree\non this point: \u201cLa joie est l\u2019air vital de notre \u00e2me. La tristesse\nest un asthme compliqu\u00e9 d\u2019atonie.\u201d[45] Every one knows that movement\nand unchecked increased activity generally create pleasure. And, on\nthe other hand, functional inhibition is in our experience closely\nconnected with feelings of pain.\n\nAlthough these broad facts are universally recognised, there is\nnevertheless no unanimity with regard to their interpretation. It\nmay be held, on the one hand, that the perception of those objective\nconditions which call forth pleasure is accompanied by a tendency\nto movement. That, conversely, movement creates pleasure would thus\nbe the result of an association. But it may also be contended that\nthe functional enhancement, the stimulation itself, when present to\nconsciousness, is perceived as pleasure, and that the feeling-tone\ncreated by movement is thus not indirect and secondary, but, on the\ncontrary, is a typical pleasure.\n\nWe do not by any means deny the influence which associative processes\nexercise on all our feelings and on the activities connected with\nthem. As has been shown by Darwin, animals as well as primitive man\nhave earned their chief enjoyment, outside their delight of warmth\nand repose, by violent actions, such as hunting, war, and pairing\nfights.[46] And if it be objected that memories from those distant\ntimes cannot now influence our feelings, it must at least be admitted\nthat within the life of the individual a firm foundation is laid for\nassociation between pleasure and activity.[47] Independently of all\ngeneral theories, we must therefore reckon with association as a\nfactor by which the motor element of pleasure is greatly increased.\nBut it seems to us impossible to make the remembrance\u2014conscious or\nunconscious\u2014of earlier similar states the only ground of the activity\nwhich is connected with pleasurable feelings.\n\nIt is at least far more simple and consistent to explain, with\nHamilton and Bain, the activity itself as the physiological condition\nof pleasure. If any increase of function\u2014whether brought about by\nchemical, mechanical, or psychical (that is, indirectly mechanical)\ninfluences\u2014be considered as a physiological condition of pleasure, and\nany arrest of function in the same way be considered as a counterpart\nof pain, then all states of pleasure or pain may be included in one\ncommon interpretation. Only it must be remembered that the increase\nof function can never be measured by any absolute standard. The same\nstimulus which in one individual calls forth pleasure may in another\nindividual cause pain, and the same bodily activity which we enjoy\nwhen in a vigorous state of health may occasion suffering when we\nare weak or ill. Such variations are evidently conditioned by the\nvarying functional powers of the organs involved. When these powers are\nreduced, a stimulus, or a movement which usually produces a stimulating\neffect, may instead call forth depression and pain.\n\nIn every explanation of pleasure-pain, attention must therefore be paid\nnot only to the claims which are made on the several organs by the\nobjective causes (stimuli or movements), but also to the capacity of\nthe organs to meet these claims. This capacity, on the other hand, is\nevidently dependent upon the supply of energy afforded by the nutritive\nprocesses. In the endeavour to pay due attention to both these factors\nLehmann has been led to this conclusion: \u201cPleasure and pain may in all\ncases be assumed to be the psychical outcome of the relation between\nthe consumption of energy which at a given moment is demanded from the\norgans, and the supply of energy which is afforded by nutrition.\u201d[48]\nIn the course of a lengthy and laborious investigation Marshall has\narrived at a very similar result: \u201cPleasure and pain are determined by\nthe relation between the energy given out and the energy received at\nany given moment by the physical organs which determine the content\nof that moment.\u201d Pleasure is experienced, according to Marshall\u2019s\ndefinition, whenever a surplus of stored energy is discharged in the\nreaction to the stimulus; pain is experienced whenever a stimulus\nclaims a greater development of energy in the reaction than the organ\nis capable of affording.[49]\n\nIn this mode of treatment due attention is paid to those theories\naccording to which the conditions of pleasure are to be sought, not in\nexpenditure of force, but in the receiving of force or in the recovery\nof balance.[50] But though this point has its own importance, it cannot\nby any means be put on a level with the dynamic aspect. Pleasure _can\nnever arise_ when the organs are not well-nourished, strong, and\ncapable of function; but it arises only _on the condition_ that they\nactually do perform a function. As Marshall has rightly remarked,\nthere is no reason to believe that surplus of vigour and receipt of\nnourishment in themselves could ever be objects of consciousness.[51]\nAs long as we can speak of mental states, these must be accompanied\nby corresponding activities. The chief merit of Marshall\u2019s thesis is\nprecisely this, that every emotional state, independently of its tone\nand of its perceptible manifestations, can be interpreted in terms\nof activity. Pleasure, acute or massive, appears as the result of a\nstimulus, which, owing to a happy proportion between its intensity and\nthe functional capacity of the organ, has modified the bodily functions\nin such a way as to produce manifestations of energy. Pain, acute or\nmassive, appears as the result of a stimulus, possibly of the same\nkind, which, owing to a disproportion arising from its own greater\nintensity or the smaller functional capacity in the organ, has called\nforth a functional inhibition\u2014that is to say, that kind of activity\nwhich is manifested to us as an arrest of energy.\n\nIt would be too sanguine to expect the real nature of pleasure and\npain to be exhaustively defined in any formula such as the above.\nFrom a theoretical point of view grave objections may undoubtedly be\nraised against Marshall\u2019s theory as well as against every general\ninterpretation of emotional states. It may even be admitted, and we\ndesire to admit it as soon as possible, that in several cases it seems\nextremely difficult to derive the feeling-tone of even the simplest\nsensations from the proportion between \u201cenergy given out and energy\nreceived.\u201d[52] But since, as far as we can see, similar difficulties\nmeet us in the application of every existing emotional theory, for\nthe present we must consider the constructions of Mr. Marshall,\nnotwithstanding their speculative and necessarily unsafe character, as\naffording us the most consistent explanation of the hedonic phenomena.\nIn an earlier work, _F\u00f6rstudier till en konstfilosofi_ (A Preliminary\nStudy for a Philosophy of Art), I have tried to discuss and refute\nsome of the arguments which can be adduced against this theory. In\nthe present work such a theoretic digression would lead us too far\naway from the main subject. For a right understanding of the relation\nbetween feeling and \u201cexpressional\u201d movements it is not necessary,\nwe believe, to adopt exclusively any one of the emotional theories.\nWe shall be quite content if it is admitted that Mr. Marshall\u2019s\ninterpretation affords us a scheme or formula by the aid of which\nwe can account, if not for the nature, at least for the external\nmanifestations of our feelings.\n\nIn applying his definitions to the various kinds of pleasure and pain,\nMr. Marshall has recourse to three important principles, viz. the\nlimited amount of energy which our system is capable of developing at\nany given moment, the storage of surplus supplies of nourishment, and\nthe transference of energy from one organ to another. By referring\nto these principles he has been able to bring under his explanation\nthose feelings which seem to correspond not to \u201cactivities,\u201d but to\n\u201cstates.\u201d[53]\n\nAs is well known, Hamilton had already pointed out the important,\nthough unsuspected, element of activity which is involved in our\nenjoyment of _dolce far niente_.[54] But with the physiology at his\ncommand he could scarcely have explained why rest after heavy work is\nalways accompanied by eminently pleasurable feelings. If it be assumed,\nhowever, that in the case of psychical effort, _e.g._, the call upon\nour limited fund of energy has reduced the vegetative functions to\ninactivity, and that this inactivity has caused a storage of nutritive\nsupply, then it is self-evident that the vegetative functions, as soon\nas the one-sided effort has ceased, must discharge their surplus in\nmovements of a pleasurable character.\n\nThe pain arising from restricted activity can equally be explained in\nterms of movement. If we believe that our system has a limited amount\nof energy which\u2014as long as life is maintained\u2014must necessarily be\nactive in some direction or other, then we shall also understand that\nanything which closes the natural and usual outlet of this energy will\ngive rise to activities in related organs, the nutritive state of which\ndoes not present the conditions of pleasurable function. Mr. Marshall\nhas tried to indicate the details of the transition by which inactivity\nin one organ causes excessive activity in other organs. His description\nof the \u201cgorging of the nutritive channels,\u201d \u201cthe calling for aid of the\ndisabled elements,\u201d etc., is, however, too figurative and poetical to\nbe of any importance in a psychological argument.[55] Taken as a vague\nand necessarily coarse metaphor, this physiological image may, however,\nillustrate a process which perhaps can never be exactly analysed, but\nwhich is nevertheless familiar to everybody. No one who has experienced\nin any higher degree the diffused sensation of gnawing inactivity can\ndoubt the active element in this corroding feeling. One seems to feel\nhow the checked and thwarted impulses devouringly turn themselves\ninward. Poetical literature is full of passionate outcries against the\ntortures which imposed inaction inflicts on active spirits; and modern\nautobiographies give us pathetic examples of the sufferings of those\nwhose intellectual activity has been diverted from outward aims to\ninternal analysis. The candid confessions of Amiel and Kierkegaard show\nthe inevitable necessity with which mental energy, if arrested in its\nnatural course, finds itself an outlet in destructive activity. This\ntruth had already been expressed in simple and drastic form in Logau\u2019s\nold epigram:\u2014\n\n    Ein M\u00fchlstein und ein Menschenherz wird stets herumgetrieben.\n    Wenn beides nicht zu reiben hat, wird beides selbst zerrieben.\n\nThe displacement of mental attention corresponding to the transference\nof energy from one organ to another in the inevitable search for a\nchannel of outlet causes arrested activity to be felt as an unbearable\nmassive pain; but this process implies at the same time a possibility\nof relief. If the sufferings of restriction can be considered as\nbrought about by arrested impulses which have turned inwards, then it\nis evident that any outward activity may overcome the obstruction.\nPleasure can perhaps not be achieved before the checked organ resumes\nits functions; but even a vicarious activity in some related organ may\nrelieve the pain. Hence the diffused, undirected movements by which\nwe instinctively try to get rid of a feeling of restriction. Every\nhigh-strung emotional state which has not yet found its appropriate\nexpression affords an instance of this sensation. Exalted delight\ntherefore often manifests itself in ecstatic dances and songs, which,\nproperly speaking, rather relieve an incipient pain than express a\npleasure. Violent movements act as unconscious expedients by which the\norganism restores itself to its normal balance.\n\nA similar instinct ought, one would expect, to operate in sensations\nof acute pain. In point of fact, an obscure consciousness of the\nlimitation of functional energy, or, to put it in psychological\nterms, of attentive power, leads us to seek and find relief from pain\nin violent movement. Some of the frantic dances of savage tribes\nundoubtedly serve to deaden the sufferings inflicted by ritual\ntortures. But it is, of course, only in exceptional cases that these\nan\u00e6sthetic expedients are intentionally resorted to. As a rule they are\nto be considered as a radiation of nervous tension, and are so little\nconscious that we can scarcely even call them instinctive. Besides all\nthe motor manifestations which thus follow upon a sensation of severe\npain in almost direct physiological sequence, some pantomimic activity\nof defence or avoidance will generally be called forth by the notion of\nan objective source of pain. Owing to associations derived from earlier\nsimilar states, this reaction may often appear even when there is no\ndefinite object which can be assigned as the cause of the feeling.\nAmong primitive people the pantomime of pain undoubtedly has its ground\nin a mythological conception of the nature of feeling. Pain is regarded\nas a concrete thing which the body may be capable of shaking off or\navoiding. Crude as it may seem, this illusion is so closely bound up\nwith our instinctive reactions that even the most enlightened man\ncan never completely emancipate himself from its influence. There is\nthus nearly always an intellectual factor which co-operates with the\nphysical tendency towards energetic reaction to pain.\n\nThus pain, notwithstanding its inhibitive character, may act,\nespecially when it is acute, as a motor incitement. Hence the curious\ncases of favourable medical effects produced by severe physical\nsuffering, which may serve not only as a distraction of the attention,\nbut also as a positive stimulation of sinking vitality. Hence also the\nenhanced intellectual activity which often follows upon pain.[56] There\nwas perhaps more malignity than truth in the remark of Michelet that\nFlaubert might imperil his talent by curing his boils;[57] but there\nare unquestionable instances to prove that wounds and acute diseases\nhave exercised a powerful exciting influence on certain artistic\ntemperaments.\n\nAll these stimulating effects of pain must naturally be taken into\naccount in every emotional theory. But they can by no means be\nadduced, as Fechner thinks, as an argument against the definition\nwhich we have already given.[58] Reactions to pain follow, indeed,\nso immediately upon the sensation, that they cannot be separated in\ntime from its proper expression. But it must always be remembered\nthat the activities, whether of writhing under the influence of\npain or of combating it, are secondary manifestations by which the\nfeeling-tone is gradually weakened. Whether the stimulating effects\nappear at the very moment of impression or only when the sensation has\nbecome fully conscious, pain is always, we believe, at its keenest\nwhen the outward development of energy is lowest. If the notion\n\u201cexpression\u201d is conceived in its strictest sense, _i.e._ as the\nphysiological counterpart of the emotional state, then pain has only\none expression\u2014inhibition.\n\nWith regard to states of pleasure it is more difficult to make any\ndistinction between primary and secondary manifestations. Every new\nmovement is a new expression of the same feeling which\u2014as long as\nfatigue does not set up its peculiar pain\u2014is only enhanced by these\nrepeated \u201csomatic resonances.\u201d If pleasure is originated by the\nincreased function of one individual organ, then this stimulation\nmust, owing to the solidarity of the functions, gradually extend\nover wider areas in the system. The more numerous the organs which\ntake part in the activity, the more numerous also are our sensations\nof function, and the greater the gain of our pleasure in richness\nand variety. An undefined feeling of vigour, assurance, or power\ncan only acquire distinctness and intensity by expressing itself in\nsome mode of physical or mental activity. But while stimulation is\nthus directly connected with the feeling-tone of pleasurable states,\nit must be admitted, on the other hand, that\u2014as has been remarked\nabove\u2014associative influences also contribute towards enhancing their\nactive manifestations. By these secondary motor-impulses, however,\nthe original feeling is only increased. It can therefore be said\nthat pleasure feeds and nurtures itself by expression. Pain, on the\ncontrary, increases in strength in the same degree as the inhibition\nextends over the organism. But it can only be weakened by active\nmanifestations. Movements, as we have shown, deliver us from the\nmassive, indistinct pains of restriction as well as mitigate our acute\nsufferings.\n\nThe life-preserving tendency which, under the feeling of pleasure,\nleads us to movements which intensify the sensation and make it more\ndistinct for consciousness, compels us in pain to seek for relief and\ndeliverance in violent motor discharge. In either case the activity is\ncalled expressional, and it seems difficult to avoid this equivocal\nusage. But it is indispensable to make a strict distinction between\nthe expression which operates in the direction of the initial feeling\nitself, and the expression by which this feeling is weakened.\n\nThis distinction will appear with greater clearness in the following\nchapter, where we shall apply the laws of expression to the complex\nemotional states. Then it will also be possible for us to point out\nsome \u00e6sthetic result of the psychological survey which perhaps may seem\nfor the moment a departure from our proper subject.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER IV\n\n                             THE EMOTIONS\n\n\nThe discussion of complex emotional states on which we enter in the\npresent chapter will be subject to the same reservation as was our\nprevious discussion of simple sensation-feeling. It is not proposed\nto attempt a definitive explanation of the _nature_ of emotion,\nnor even to criticise the various emotion-theories which have been\nadvanced in psychological literature. For the purposes of an \u00e6sthetic\ninvestigation we are only concerned with the external aspects, the\noutward manifestations, of mental states. We need not therefore dilate\nupon the controversies as to the exact relation between simple feeling\nand emotion. It is enough for us that all authors\u2014those who consider\npain and pleasure as elements _sui generis_ as well as those who count\nthem among sensations or emotions\u2014agree in emphasising the prominent\nhedonic element which enters into all our emotions. Starting from this\nuniversally recognised fact, we shall try to explain the impulse to\nexpression, as it appears in complex emotions, by the same laws which\nwe deduced from an examination of simple hedonic states.\n\nThe legitimacy of such a course will scarcely be contested by any one\nwho admits the vital and necessary connection between emotional states\nand movement-sensations. And in point of fact, this connection does\nnot seem to be denied by many modern psychologists. There is indeed\nmuch controversy as to the best mode of formulating the well-known\ntheory due to James and Lange, and there is also much to discuss in\nits general theoretic aspect. But the observation on which this theory\nwas based by James, viz. that it is impossible for us to imagine any\nemotion which is not connected with feelings of bodily symptoms, seems\nnowadays to be pretty safe against attack. Before and after James,\nthe fundamental importance of bodily changes has been acknowledged by\nalmost all authors who have specially studied the emotional states. We\nneed only refer to Bain, Ribot, F\u00e9r\u00e9, Paulhan, and Godfernaux.[59] Even\nProfessor Stout, who on general grounds takes exception to the views\nof James, leaves unassailed the thesis from which the latter starts in\nhis chapter on the emotions.[60] And it is even somewhat superfluous to\nadduce all these authorities in support of a fact which must have been\nnoted by every one who pays any attention to his own mental states. We\nnever experience any intense emotion, such as fear, anger, or sorrow,\nwithout at the same time experiencing some distinct sensation of\nchange in our functions of respiration and circulation, as well as in\nthe activities of our voluntary muscles. In the case of emotions of\nslight intensity, where no changes of this character are perceptible,\nwe are justified in assuming that they do nevertheless occur, only on\na much smaller scale, and possibly in different organs. The clinical\nand experimental researches of medical science, as well as experiments\nundertaken in psychological laboratories, tend to prove that all ideas,\neven of the most abstract kind, are accompanied by modifications of\norganic activity, similar to, but weaker than, those which accompany\nthe simple sensations. It is only natural, therefore, to conclude that\nthe feeling-element in emotions and sentiments, as well as in simple\npain and pleasure, is correlated with the quality\u2014stimulating or\ninhibitive\u2014and intensity of these modifications. All hedonic states,\nwhether called forth directly by a simple physiological stimulus, or\nindirectly by the mediation of perceptions, memories, and ideas, can\nthus, in so far as they are feelings, be considered as essentially\nalike. The complete emotion, such as joy or anger, with all its\nelements of thought and conscious or unconscious volition, is of course\nsomething quite different from the simple feeling-tone of mere pleasure\nor pain. Physiological psychology does not, as its opponents maintain,\nassimilate gratifications of the sense of taste to \u00e6sthetic enjoyment\nor religious exaltation. We allow _rank_ to a sentiment in virtue\nof the mental conceptions by which it is justified in the breast of\nthe person who feels it. But the _strength_ of such a sentiment, _as\nfeeling_, we deem to be proportioned to the organic changes by which\nenthusiasm and devotion, just as much as sensual pleasure, are always\naccompanied. We do not assert that these organic changes are always\nidentical in kind. In the simplest forms of hedonic sensation\u2014sensation\nproper\u2014they have their main equivalent in changes of the vegetative\nfunctions; in the emotions they are accompanied by movements of our\nvoluntary muscles; and in the sentiments they may correspond to an\nactivity which takes place chiefly in the organ of thought. And from\nthese differences arise other important differences in duration as well\nas in intensity of the pleasure-pain. But all these various limitations\ncannot modify the essential fact, which is, that pleasure is always\nconnected with an enhancement, and pain with a depression, of the vital\nfunctions.\n\nFor a satisfactory explanation of our emotions it would no doubt be\ndesirable to have all the complicated physiological concomitants\nreduced to simple terms of functional enhancement and functional\narrest. Such a reduction can, however, be undertaken only in a few\nfavourable cases. We can easily see, for instance, that in pride and\nhumiliation a series of perceptions and ideas have brought about\nconditions of facilitated and checked activity similar to those which,\nin sensational pleasure-pain, are created by simple physiological\nstimuli.[61] We may also agree with Lehmann when he endeavours to\nprove that the pain a child experiences when its mother leaves its\nbedside can be reduced to a sensation of arrested activity.[62] And\nwe may in the same way explain our own feelings after losses which,\nfrom our point of view, are more serious, as largely due to the fact\nthat an occasion of activity for our senses, thoughts, or bodily\npowers has been suddenly withdrawn. But it would be too laborious to\nenter upon such an analysis of all our compound emotions, and it is\nalso superfluous. Even when the organic conditions of pleasure and\npain cannot be detected among the intricate mass of intellectual and\nvolitional elements which make up what we can observe of an emotion,\nwe must still, from analogy, conclude that some kind of functional\nenhancement or arrest corresponds to the feeling-tone.\n\nSeeing, then, that what we may call \u201cpure feeling\u201d remains the same\nin all possible combinations, we must expect to meet with the same\nphenomena in connection with the manifestations of the higher emotions\nand sentiments, as those already described in case of simple pain or\npleasure. It is true that in fully formed anger, joy, contempt, and\nso on, the tendency to expression for expression\u2019s sake\u2014as when a\nchild laughs or dances for mere joy\u2014is seldom found pure and unmixed.\nBut even in such complex states we may in the abstract distinguish\nthe impulse directly and inherently connected with the physiological\nchange\u2014the impulse which tends _automatically_ to bring out the tone of\npleasure with more prominence or to relieve the tone of pain\u2014from all\nthe conscious and volitional activities by which the external cause of\nthe feeling is either approached or avoided. We have only to remember\nthat, as was the case with sensation-feelings, those intentional\nmovements which are directly or by virtue of association connected\nwith an emotion will always work in the same direction as the purely\nautomatic expression.\n\nWith regard to anger, for instance, we can in theory, at all events,\ndistinguish the activity which follows as a purely physiological\nreaction upon the initial inhibition, and which therefore is quite\nundirected by any idea of attacking an enemy, from the conscious\nreaction by which we strive with all our powers to overcome and\nannihilate a real or imaginary foe. But we know that both these\nkinds of expression produce similar mental effects. Whether we\nconcentrate our attention on the element of pure feeling and its\naccompanying activities, or on the intermixture of intellectual\nand volitional elements by which the emotion is distinguished from\nsimple pleasure-pain, we shall thus find that active manifestations\nalways enhance the positive tone of feeling, which is in itself the\ncounterpart of a functional enhancement, and relieve the negative tone,\nwhich is the counterpart of functional arrest.\n\nTo prove this assertion with regard to all the different emotions\nwould mean an unnecessary repetition of the arguments adduced in the\npreceding chapter. We need therefore only dwell on a few individual\ncases in which the effects of expression, owing to the complex nature\nof all fully developed emotions, are subject to misinterpretation. It\nhas, for instance, often been contended in psychological literature\nthat pleasurable emotions lose in strength in the same degree as\nthey are expressed. Mr. Spencer, who finds the physiological basis\nof all emotion in nervous tension, has tried to prove that joy is\nalways strongest when most restrained. But the argument he adduces is\nby no means unimpeachable. He says that people who show the finest\nappreciation of humour are often capable of saying and doing the most\nlaughable things with the utmost gravity.[63] In this instance joy\nhas, however, been confounded with the sense of the comic, which is of\ncourse a purely intellectual gift, and which does not even presuppose\na cheerful disposition. The less the expenditure of nervous force on\noutward activity, the greater is the efficiency with which the work of\nthought can be carried on.[64] There is thus a physiological reason\nwhy he who laughs least utters the best jokes. But all the fools whose\nmouths overflow with laughter (_risus abundat in ore stultorum_) may\nno doubt often be happier than the most talented humourist. No sane man\nwould say that Swift was happy.\n\nIt is, however, undeniable that even joy gradually decreases if it\nis allowed an unimpeded outlet. But that is often a result of bodily\nfatigue, which makes thought as well as feeling impossible. Pleasure\nmay also increase _qua_ feeling, if its most outward manifestations\nare controlled. But hereby the activity has only, as Spencer himself\nremarks, been directed into new channels.[65] The motor impulses\nreflect themselves inwards and accumulate when their outlet is stopped.\nFrom bodily movements, which are its simplest and most natural\nexpression, joy may thus be diverted into the region of thought. When\na savage has attained so high a state of development as to be able to\ncontrol the impulse to dance and yell for joy, the first dithyramb has\nbeen composed.\n\nIt is impossible for us to estimate the relative importance of internal\nand external activity. All we can say is that a joy, the outward\nexpressions of which are controlled, probably gains in durability. But\non the other hand it is possible that a joy which has been allowed a\nfree discharge, in the very moment of expression is stronger _qua_\nfeeling. If the motor impulses find no outlet in any direction, the\nemotional state will, as has already been pointed out, become more and\nmore affected with elements of pain.\n\nWhen the physiological counterpart of an emotion takes the form of\nan inhibition, the feeling-tone will of course gain in intensity in\nthe same degree as wider and wider areas of activity come under the\ninfluence of the arrest. This law can also be observed in the course\nof development of all pain-emotions. Sorrow, despair, humiliation, and\nso on, are relatively mild as long as the inhibition is restricted to\nthe voluntary muscles. They acquire their full and proper strength\nas feeling only when the involuntary activities take part in the\nfunctional disturbance. And we can often notice in ourselves how, in\nthe same degree as a painful emotion increases, the inhibition cuts\nits way deeper and deeper into the organism.[66] Humiliation, which of\nall emotions is the most hopelessly and irredeemably painful, is in\nits higher degrees always accompanied by functional changes which make\nthemselves felt even in our digestive organs. Literature, to which in\nquestions of emotional psychology we must apply for the information\nwhich no experiment can supply, proves that it is hard to swallow. It\nhas a bitter taste, and is sickening even in purely physical sense.[67]\nThe greatest grief, on the other hand, that man has been able to\nimagine manifests itself physiologically as a complete internal as well\nas external paralysis, such as is suggested by the Greek myth of the\nsorrowing mother turned into stone.\n\nThe progress of functional inhibition from organ to organ and the\naccompanying increase of the pain-emotion does of course generally\ntake place without the co-operation of volition. But the increase\nof an incipient pain-sentiment can also be facilitated by voluntary\nefforts. As Professor James remarks, we may effectively strengthen a\nmood of sadness if we only consistently arrest the activity of all\nthe organs which are under the control of our will.[68] And it is\nwell known that much is possible in the way of working up feelings\nof melancholy. It may seem somewhat strange that the cultivation of\nsuch painful states has attained so high a development in man. But\nthe apparent paradox is solved if we direct our attention to the\nsecondary tones of pleasure which can always be derived from artificial\nmoods of suffering. Sentimental reflection is able to extract from\nthem a peculiar satisfaction which is highly appreciated by certain\ntemperaments. We need only refer to the literature of romanticism,\nwhich gives us most instructive instances of pride in sensibility.\nAnother kind of enjoyment is attained when persons who consider\nthemselves unfairly treated by cruel fortune deliberately feed upon\ntheir own sufferings. As Spencer has shrewdly pointed out, they will\ninfallibly derive a pleasurable sensation of their own value when\ncontrasting their fate with the happiness which they consider their\ndue.[69] Melancholy people, on the other hand, may perhaps be inclined\nto make themselves as helpless and unfortunate as possible for the\nsake of experiencing both sides of that \u201clove of the helpless\u201d[70]\nwhich, according to Spencer, is the most primordial form of altruistic\nfeeling. The expressions and pantomimes of sadness often strike us as\na kind of self-caressing in which the sufferer, by division of his own\npersonality, enjoys the double pleasure of giving and receiving.\n\nAccording to the most consistent terminology, this tendency to\nenhance feeling by voluntary co-operation with functional inhibition\nought perhaps to be considered as the characteristic expression of\npainful emotion. It is, however, as has already been pointed out in\nour treatment of sensation-feeling, more in conformity with ordinary\nusage\u2014and also with etymology\u2014to apply the word expression to those\nactive, outward manifestations by which the inhibition is relieved.\nThere can be no inconvenience in doing so if we only keep constantly\nin mind the distinction between the expression which enhances and the\nexpression which relieves. As long as these two notions are confounded,\na consistent explanation of emotional states is quite impossible. The\ncontradictions in Professor James\u2019 brilliant chapter on the emotions\nfurnish us with a ready proof of this impossibility. If he had based\nhis theory upon a close discrimination of either class of expression,\nas they can be distinguished in simple sensational feeling, he would\nprobably not have contended that sorrow is increased by sobbing,[71]\nwhile admitting in another passage that \u201cdry and shrunken sorrow\u201d is\nmore painful than any \u201ccrying fit.\u201d[72]\n\nIt is, however, impossible to deny that sighing, sobbing, twisting\nthe hands, and other active manifestations are often effectively\nused, by actors, for example, as means for working up despair or\nsorrows.[73] But it seems to us indubitable that these movements when\nthey succeed in creating the real feeling do so by help of association.\nA pain-emotion which has been called into existence by such dramatic\nmechanism is therefore seldom quite genuine. Real sorrow, hate, or\nanger, as pain-feelings, are on their physiological side much more\ndeeply seated than these surface expressions, which, properly speaking,\nare merely a reproduction of the usual reactions upon the primary\nfeeling. They are therefore not to be easily stirred up by aid of\nmimetic action.\n\nIt may perhaps be contended that these remarks apply only to\nthe artificial creation of pain-emotion. When under the sway of\nveritable sorrow we undoubtedly feel as if the mental state were\nreally intensified during its expression by the direct influence of\nthe muscular activities, which constitute the sighing, sobbing, or\ncrying. As far as the compound emotion is concerned, this observation\nis unquestionably correct. Sorrow, with all its intellectual and\nvolitional elements, may become more distinct for consciousness the\nmore it is actively expressed. But the pain itself, which constitutes\nthe primary and initial state of this emotion, has by no means been\nincreased. On the contrary, a crying fit, for instance, as even\nProfessor James admits, may be accompanied by a kind of excitement\nwhich has a peculiar tone of pungent pleasure.[74]\n\nThe same process can be observed in the course of all the so-called\npain-emotions. During active expression, while the general mental state\nincreases in definiteness, the purely \u201calgedonic\u201d element of pain is\ngradually weakened or changed. Anger, which begins with an inhibition\nand a vascular contraction, to which,[75] on the mental side,\ncorresponds a feeling of intense pain, is thus in its active stage a\ndecidedly pleasurable emotion.[76] Fear, which in its initial stage is\nparalysing and depressing, often changes in tone when the first shock\nhas been relieved by motor reaction.[77] And to some extent the same\nmay be said even of despair. In every pain-emotion where there is a\ndevelopment of active energy involved in the reaction upon the initial\nfeeling, the tone of this feeling is apt to undergo some change owing\nto the influence of this activity.\n\nThis circumstance explains why expression for expression\u2019s sake as a\nlife-preserving principle occupies so important a place in the life\nof man. But it also accounts for another phenomenon which, although\nnot directly connected with the expressional impulse, is \u00e6sthetically\nso important that it cannot properly be passed over in this work. We\nrefer to the apparent paradox that anger, fear, sorrow, notwithstanding\ntheir distinctly painful initial stage, are often not only not avoided,\nbut even deliberately sought. Taken in connection with those perhaps\neven more curious cases, in which sensation-feelings of pain are\nintentionally provoked, this apparent inversion of the normal course\nconstitutes one of the most important problems in emotional psychology.\nThe question of such \u201cluxuries of grief,\u201d or, to use a more appropriate\nGerman phrase, \u201cDie Wonne des Leids,\u201d is, however, so complicated that\nits treatment will require a chapter to itself.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER V\n\n                         THE ENJOYMENT OF PAIN\n\n\nWe have pointed out that enjoyment can be derived by sentimental\nreflection on moods of sadness. Such refined forms of the \u201cluxury of\ngrief\u201d presuppose a certain intellectual development and a tendency\nto introspection, which cannot possibly be assumed in primitive man.\nBut as the active forms of the so-called pain-emotions are highly\nappreciated\u2014we may even say indulged in as enjoyments\u2014by the lower\ntribes of man, there must evidently be some more immediate cause of\nthis delight. And we are the more tempted to look for this cause in the\nemotional process itself, by the fact that even bodily pains, which\ndo not admit of any sentimental interpretation, may be deliberately\nexcited.\n\nWe remarked in our treatment of the simple emotional elements, that\npleasure and pain can in no case be estimated by any absolute measure.\nNow that we have to find some explanation of the delight in pain, which\napplies to purely physical as well as to mental pain, we begin by\nadmitting that the relative character of feeling probably accounts for\nmany instances in which the pain is merely apparent. The same external\nstimulus which acts on one individual with hypernormal strength, and\ntherefore evokes pain, may in the case of another individual who\nhas duller senses, produce a weaker impression, and thus call forth\na pleasurable reaction. The taste and smell anomalies of hysterical\npatients afford us good examples of such abnormal pleasure. And, on\nthe other hand, there are plenty of instances, too familiar to be\nenumerated, in which an impression which a sick person would call\npainful brings pleasure to a healthy one.\n\nAgain, the power of receiving pleasurable sensations from strong\nstimuli may often be increased by exercise. Mr. Marshall has applied\nhis psycho-physiological principles to the interpretation of\nthese \u201cacquired pleasure-gettings\u201d and though he perhaps does not\nexhaustively and convincingly explain the process, he at least gives\na graphic and clear account of its most probable course. He thinks\nthat a hypernormal stimulus indirectly increases the blood-supply to\nthe stimulated organ. This organ will therefore, if the operation of\nthe stimulus is not too prolonged, store up some portion of unused\nnutritive force during the subsequent repose. And thus, if the same\nstimulus is shortly afterwards repeated, the organ will be able to\nrespond with greater facility and intensity, _i.e._ react under the\nconditions of pleasurable reaction. In this way Marshall accounts for\nthe classic instances of acquired liking for olives and tobacco.[78]\n\nIt is probable that a similar influence of repeated exercise may\nalso operate in the department of compound emotions. Lehmann, who\nexplains the transformation of originally painful impressions into\npleasurable ones in a somewhat different way, viz. by his law of\n\u201cthe indispensability of accustomed things\u201d refers to this law\nthose instances in which persons who have had many troubles grow so\naccustomed to them, that in a moment of ease they feel a kind of\nloss.[79] The validity of this law will be recognised by every one who\nhas any opportunity of observing the vaguely and weakly unpleasant\nfeeling which sometimes appears when we are suddenly liberated\nfrom some pursuing anxiety. And the indispensability of accustomed\nsensations may impel persons to create new mental pains or worries to\nreplace the old ones.\n\nYet the mere craving for customary sensations cannot explain those\ncases of genuine luxury in grief in which pain-sensations and\npain-emotions are sought precisely because they are painful. But if we\ntake into account the powerful stimulating effect which is produced by\nacute pain, we may easily understand why people submit to momentary\nunpleasantness for the sake of enjoying the subsequent excitement. This\nmotive leads to the deliberate creation not only of pain-sensations,\nbut also of emotions in which pain enters as an element. The violent\nactivity which is involved in the reaction against fear, and still\nmore in that against anger, affords us a sensation of pleasurable\nexcitement which is well worth the cost of the passing unpleasantness.\nIt is, moreover, notorious that some persons have developed a peculiar\nart of making the initial pain of anger so transient that they can\nenjoy the active elements in it with almost undivided delight. Such\nan accomplishment is far more difficult in the case of sorrow. The\nreactions are here seldom allowed so free a course as to be able to\nchange the feeling-tone of the state. Moreover, the remembrance of the\nobjective cause will always tend to reawaken the original feeling with\nits accompanying inhibition. Besides, a man of culture and refinement\nis generally deterred by a kind of respect for his own emotional life\nfrom artificially stirring up states of sorrow for his own enjoyment.\nThis reluctance, however, does not seem to exist in lower stages of\ndevelopment. The crying feasts of the Maoris and the Todas\u2014which afford\na striking parallel to the ceremonial wailings of ancient Greece\u2014are\nno doubt, whatever their ritual significance may be, attended with\na kind of pleasure.[80] By seizing on some real or fictitious cause\nfor grief\u2014the death of a Linos or an Adonis\u2014the participants succeed,\nwe imagine, in creating a state of sorrow in which the active and\nstimulating elements outweigh the pain.\n\nHowever barbarous this kind of amusement may seem to us, it is by no\nmeans certain that we have completely outgrown such pleasures. The\ndelight in witnessing the performance of a tragedy undoubtedly involves\nthe enjoyment of a borrowed pain, which, by unconscious sympathetic\nimitation, we make partially our own.[81] And the same phenomenon\nappears in a yet cruder form in the custom, so general among the lower\nclasses of most countries, of visiting funerals and similar ceremonies\nwhere sorrow can be contemplated and shared. Even civilised man is thus\nable to enjoy the pleasure which may be connected with emotions of\nsorrow and despair, at least in second-hand reproduction.\n\nIt is scarcely necessary to go through all the various emotional\nstates in order to prove that every one of them, if it can _per se_ be\nenjoyed (in nature or art), is either primarily or by its reactions\nconnected with an increase of outward activity. But we must point\nout that the pleasure derived from this motor excitement is often\nstill further enhanced by the agency of an intellectual element which\nis simpler than sentimental reflection, and does not presuppose any\ntendency towards introspection. In pain as in pleasure, in suffering\nas in voluptuousness, we attain a heightened and enriched sensation\nof life. The more we love life, the more must we also enjoy this\nsensation, even if it be called into existence by pain. Lessing,\nwho cannot possibly be called morbid, confesses to this taste in an\ninteresting letter written to Mendelssohn: \u201cDarinn sind wir doch wohl\neinig, l.F., dass alle Leidenschaften entweder heftige Begierden oder\nheftige Verabscheuengen sind? Auch darinn: dass wir uns bei jeder\nheftigen Begierde oder Verabscheuung, eines gr\u00f6sser Grads unserer\nRealit\u00e4t bewusst sind und dass dieses Bewusstsein nicht anders als\nangenehm sein kann? Folglich sind alle Leidenschaften, auch die\nallerunangenehmsten, als Leidenschaften angenehm.\u201d[82] (\u201cWe are agreed\nin this, my dear friend, that all passions are either vehement cravings\nor vehement loathings, and also that in every vehement craving or\nloathing we acquire an increased consciousness of our reality, and\nthat this consciousness cannot but be pleasurable. Consequently, all\nour passions, even the most painful, are, as passions, pleasurable.\u201d)\nAnd Helvetius has expressed almost the same idea: \u201cNous souhaiterons\ndonc, par des impressions toujours nouvelles, \u00eatre \u00e0 chaque instant\navertis de notre existence, parceque chacun de ces avertissements est\npour nous un plaisir.\u201d[83] (\u201cAccordingly, we shall desire, by means of\nconstantly renewed impressions, to be at every moment reminded of our\nexistence, because each of these reminders is for us a pleasure.\u201d) For\nthe sake of this \u201cavertissement\u201d of existence, individuals of intense\nvital temperament, like Richard Jefferies and Maryia Bashkirtseff, have\npositively loved their very sufferings.[84]\n\nIt is evident that pain as a sign of life and function may be\nespecially welcome when the vital sensation has for any reason become\nweakened. The self-woundings of the heathen and Christian saints,\nalthough no doubt fully justified to the sufferers themselves by\nreligious motives, may thus have had their innermost unconscious\nmotive in an endeavour to overcome that an\u00e6sthesia which is so\nusual an accompaniment of hysterical disturbances.[85] It is hard\nto believe that the tortures which they inflict upon themselves are\nreally felt as neutral or pleasurable. But we can easily understand\nthat such torture, although more or less painful, may afford a kind\nof satisfaction by compelling the slow and dull senses to function.\nProfessor Lange has in his work on the emotions laid special stress\nupon this point. \u201cIt is a condition of our well-being,\u201d he says,\n\u201cthat our sensorial centres should be in a certain degree of activity\ncalled forth by the impressions which reach them through the sensorial\nnerves from the outside. If from some cause or other\u2014for instance,\nfrom a decrease in the functional powers of these centres\u2014there\narises an insensibility, an\u00e6sthesia, then we feel a longing to force\nthem to their usual activity by addressing to them an abnormally\nstrong appeal, or, in other words, by intensifying the external\nimpressions and thereby neutralising the insensibility.\u201d[86] This\nprinciple has, indeed, as applied by Lange to the expressions of\nanger, been mercilessly ridiculed by Wundt.[87] But it seems to us\nthat the observation itself can scarcely be contested. Whether we\nexplain it as a case of the indispensability of the accustomed or as\nthe result of some peculiar yearning for life\u2014a soul-desire, as Mr.\nJefferies would have called it\u2014a deficient consciousness of function\nis in most cases distinctly unpleasant. And, on the other hand, it\nseems as if an increased consciousness of function were _per se_\npleasurable. It is of course difficult to prove by exact argument the\nexistence of a feeling which can be observed only as the innermost\nconcealed motive of our life. But on as strong evidence as can ever\nbe adduced on matters of emotional life, we may believe that in every\nconscious life there operates a dim instinctive craving for fuller\nand greater consciousness, or, if the expression be preferred, for\nthe most complete self-realisation. Happiness itself has been defined\nby a philosopher so little inclined to mysticism as Mr. Brinton, as\n\u201cthe increasing consciousness of self.\u201d[88] It is therefore easy to\nunderstand why, when this consciousness has been blunted by some\ncause or other, we may even long for suffering and pain as a means\nof escaping the dulness, emptiness, and darkness of insensibility.\nIt may seem to be a disturbance of all normal instincts that pain\u2014an\nelement hostile to vital activity\u2014can thus be preferred to a state the\nunpleasantness of which is only diffuse. But we have to remember that\nthe absence of sensation and function frightens us by its similarity to\nwhat we fear more than pain.\n\nThe sufferings of insensibility, this highest possible form of tedium,\nwhich\u2014if we are to judge from the descriptions in literature and\npoetry\u2014may in themselves be unbearable enough, must needs be unusually\nkeen in individuals who are given up to philosophic reflection. The\nfeeling of inanity which is caused by a suspense of vital sensations\nis apt to spread itself over the whole field of sense-experience.[89]\nIn default of strong impressions, with their subsequent reactions, we\nmay lose the sense not only of our own existence, but also of that of\nthe external world.[90] The relatively neutral evidence of our higher\nsenses does not afford us the same assurance of reality as is given\nby grosser impressions, which affect us more directly in the way of\npleasure or pain. On purely physiological grounds there may thus be\nproduced a morbid conception of the universe which, having neither ego\nnor non-ego to rely on, lacks the conviction either of subjective or\nobjective existence. From this vertiginous inanity, which must bring\nevery philosophic temperament into despair, life delivers us by the\nsame means which Moli\u00e8re uses to confute the Pyrrhonists. Pain is the\nmost convincing reality we can imagine. It may therefore, even when it\nis not deliberately sought for, afford a welcome support to thought.\n\n                            \u201cSuffice it thee\n    Thy pain is a reality.\u201d\n                  (TENNYSON, \u201cThe Two Voices\u201d).\n\nIn this connection, however, we have not to dwell on the philosophical\nimportance of pain. We are here only concerned with its significance\nfor the immediate sense of life. And in this respect we believe that an\nartificial creation of pain may play some part not only in anger, but\nin the expression of all high-strung emotions. It is well known that\nthe orgiastic state of mind, whether originally caused by religious\nexaltation or by erotic delirium, may often, when it has reached its\nhighest stage, express itself in self-laceration. These facts are no\ndoubt difficult to interpret. But it seems justifiable to assume that a\ntendency towards the creating of pain-sensations may have been derived\nfrom the emotional process itself. Explained in this way, orgiastic\nself-tortures may be adduced as the most remarkable proofs of this\ndesire for an enhanced sense of life which lies at the bottom of all\nour appetence.\n\nHowever energetically strong emotions may accentuate our existence, and\nhowever deeply we may enjoy the \u201crealisation of ourselves\u201d which we\nfind in the violent excitement accompanying them, high-strung states\nare naturally bound to be followed by exhaustion and stupor. And thus\neven the intoxication of life, this most powerful of sensations, sooner\nor later passes its climax and sinks into dull insensibility. The lower\nthe function by the incitement of which the exaltation is produced,\nthe greater probably is its orgiastic power. But its duration is also\nso much the shorter. A wild dance, for instance, invariably ends in\nimpotent prostration, during which the power of function and sensation\nis completely exhausted. As long as the mental desire for increased\nexcitement is unsatisfied, this state must be distinctly disagreeable.\nHence all the frenetic manifestations by which man, when raging in\ninsatiable exaltation, strives to awake and rouse his failing powers of\nenjoyment.\n\nIn the whole domain of comparative psychology there can scarcely\nbe adduced an example which throws so much light on the orgiastic\nstate of mind as the Bacchanal frenzy. And the descriptions of this\n\u201cDionysischer Zustand\u201d which are to be found in classic literature\ngive us the most complete idea of the various expedients by which the\ndevotee tries to maintain and increase his state of exaltation in spite\nof the growing tendency to relaxation. By noise, roaring, and loud\ncries, by frenetic dance and wild actions, the \u201cMaenads\u201d strive to\npreserve and recover the fading sense of life, which ever baffles their\nexertions. And as the last, infallible means of excitement, resorted\nto when all other stimulations have proved unable to stir up the\ndulled senses, we may explain the tortures which the partly insensible\nBacchante inflicts upon herself. \u201cSuum Bacchis non sentit saucia\nvulnus.\u201d[91]\n\nThere are various kinds of orgiastic exaltation connected with\nself-torture\u2014as that of the tarantella dancers, of the dervishes, of\nthe shamans, and others\u2014in which the creation of pain-sensations may\nbe explained as a desperate device for enhancing the intensity of\nthe emotional state. Acute pain often makes it possible to overcome\nmomentarily the exhaustion or the dulness which unfits us for work.\nAnd it is evident that pain may produce a similar excitement when\nwe require an increase of energy, not for the sake of obtaining the\ngreatest possible result from a working activity, but for the sake of\nextracting the greatest possible enjoyment out of an emotional state.\n\nBut if this interpretation be admitted as possible, there will be\nample room for discussion as to its application to individual cases.\nFor it is to be remembered that even pain may fulfil the task of\nrelieving a nervous tension. In cases of bodily suffering counter\nirritation may thus bring about a wholesome diversion of the attention\nfrom an otherwise unbearable pain.[92] And it is unquestionable that\nself-inflicted lacerations during violent emotion often subserve the\nsame purpose. When a savage scarifies himself on receiving bad news,\nor at a funeral feast, his action is an instinctive effort to procure\nrelief from the overpowering feelings.[93] That he is not simply\nperforming a sacrificial rite,[94] but is merely seeking the relief\nwhich experience has taught him may be afforded by pain as well as by\nthe subsequent exhaustion (especially from loss of blood), is proved\nby the fact that the same expedient is employed in order to overcome\nhumiliation or bodily pain.[95] It is not stimulation, but a lulling of\nthe senses, which is here aimed at.\n\nIt must also be admitted that even the other orgiastic manifestations\nmay serve as purely cathartic means of relieving emotional pressure. It\nis, as has already been remarked, impossible to decide in individual\ncases whether an activity of expression\u2014a dance, for instance\u2014serves to\nenhance a pleasurable feeling or to relieve a pain. Suffering, sorrow,\nand despair may often, in their outward reactions, borrow the forms of\nexpression which are usually connected with joy. Thus frenetic games\nand dances are often met with on occasions when we should least of all\nexpect them, as, for instance, in time of famine, epidemic, or war.[96]\nSuch paradoxical manifestations, in which an overstrained despair\nattempts to obtain some kind of relief, are externally not to be\ndistinguished from the genuine expression of joy. On the other hand, an\nabnormally strong emotion, which is primarily caused by the objective\nconditions of pleasure, may in its excess be perceived as a pain. Joy\nitself can thus be felt as an oppressive burden, which we try with all\nour power to get rid of. The motor discharges, by which we seek relief\nfrom such a \u201cNoth der F\u00fclle und der \u00dcberf\u00fclle,\u201d can, however, only\nindirectly offer us any real deliverance. A wild dance, for instance,\nwill inevitably accentuate the original feeling as a conscious state,\nand thereby increase its intensity. But with this increase the craving\nfor relief will also become stronger. As long as expression is unable\nto satisfy the ever-growing nervous tension, there must remain an\nelement of \u201cnever enough\u201d in the orgiastic exaltation. It is only when\nrepeated solicitation has brought on bodily exhaustion that a real\nrelease is attained.\n\nThere is no doubt that such a relief-bringing exhaustion was the\nultimate aim of all those exalted manifestations to which the poor\ntarantuli and the Vitus dancers abandoned themselves. But the problem\npresented by the similarity between the pathological despair which\nconstitutes the initial stage of such epidemic mental disorders, and\nthe oppressive feeling of joy whose expression has been thwarted, is\nso difficult that we can hardly expect to obtain a decisive answer to\nsuch questions as whether, for example, the m\u00e6nadic exaltation is to be\nconsidered as a melancholic or a cheerful state of mind. And in most\ncases it would probably be equally impossible to ascertain whether in a\ngiven manifestation we have to do with pleasure that seeks enhancement,\nor with pain that seeks relief in exhaustion.\n\nWhile every one is thus free to interpret the facts according to his\noptimistic or pessimistic bias, it must nevertheless be considered as\na confusion of ideas to make the quest of unconsciousness a universal\nand fundamental impulse in man. It is impossible for us to assign any\npsychological importance to commonplaces on the enviable state of the\ninsensible and the happiness to be found in unconsciousness. It is only\nwhen it delivers us from pain that a state of partial insensibility\nand cessation of function may be perceived as relatively agreeable.\nThat an absolute absence of feeling could afford us any pleasure is a\npsychological contradiction in terms.\n\nThis illusion of unconsciousness can, however, be easily explained by\nthe fact that intense emotional states are generally dominated by a\nsingle preoccupation. A strong feeling, by reason of the limitations\nof our consciousness, annihilates external sensations and ideas.\nEcstasy, that \u201cover-conscious\u201d state of highly concentrated activity,\nrises above space and time to a state in which we feel liberated from\nall forms of perception. But the highest pleasure which we may thus\nexperience is not, as Wagner in his pessimistic period would have it, a\nsinking and drowning of ourselves in unconsciousness; it is far rather\u2014\n\n    \u201cendlos ewig\n    einbewuszt.\u201d\n\nTo enjoy so rich and complete a sensation of life has, we believe,\nbeen the object for which, each in his own manner, all men of strong\nvitality have striven. Even if there are individuals so unfortunate\nthat for them a cessation of life and function appears as the highest\nend of desire, such negative instances need hardly be taken into\naccount in a survey of universal human impulses. The longing for\nunconsciousness is moreover so passive a condition of mind, that by\nitself it could never explain expressional activities of the more\nviolent or elaborate sort. And it is even more insufficient as an\nexplanation of all those secondary expressions which are to occupy\nus in the sequel. Art production would never have reached so high a\ndevelopment if it had served only as a sedative for human feelings. But\nneither does art, any more than the direct activities of expression,\ninvolve mere excitement; it too fulfils, and with even greater\nefficacy, a relieving and cathartic mission. While supplying man with\na means of intensifying the feelings connected with all the varied\nactivities of the soul, art at the same time bestows upon him that\ninward calm in which all strong emotions find their relief.\n\nEvery interpretation of art which does not pay due attention to both of\nthese aspects must needs be one-sided and incomplete.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER VI\n\n                           SOCIAL EXPRESSION\n\n\nIn order to find an explanation of the nature and origin of the\nart-impulse we were compelled to enter upon a digression on the general\npsychology of feeling. It appeared from this hasty examination that\nin the motor concomitants of physical as well as of mental feeling\nwe have to do with a form of activity which, taken by itself, is\nindependent of all external motives. It was shown that the diffusion\nof a feeling-tone always corresponds to some active manifestation,\ngenerally outward, which increases in the same degree as the state\nof consciousness gains in intensity and distinctness. Besides these\nimmediate transformations of energy which, owing to the law of inertia,\nfollow the primary enhancement or inhibition of function, we met with\nreactions of a more conscious kind, by which the organism strives to\novercome the inhibition of pain, and to keep up the excitement of\npleasure. And it was also found that the universal animal desire to\nincrease every pleasure and to relieve every pain has given rise to\na multitude of secondary manifestations, by which we try to sustain\nevery pleasure, to make it more distinct for consciousness, and thus\nenhance it by expression, while, during states of pain, we strive for\nrelief in diversion or in violent motor discharge. Finally it was\nremarked that by the side of this expressional impulse we must take\naccount of a yearning after increased consciousness, which leads us\nto pursue, even at the risk of some passing pain, all feelings and\nemotions by which our sensation of life is reinforced and intensified.\nAll these impulses, accompanied by higher or lower degrees of conscious\nendeavour, are psychical phenomena of fundamental importance. They are\nnot restricted to any particular stage of culture. And their coercive\nforce is equal\u2014nay, even superior to that of the imitative impulse, the\nplay-impulse, and the impulse \u201cto attract by pleasing.\u201d If we could\ndeduce the desire for artistic creation from the activities connected\nwith feeling, we should here find the explanation of its universality\nas well as of its force.\n\nBut among the manifestations described in the foregoing chapters\nthere is none which directly leads us to the artistic activity. As\nagainst the _Spieltrieb_ theories it was objected that play never\ndevelops of itself into art, so it may now be objected, with as much\nreason, that all immediate or secondary emotional manifestations,\nhowever interesting they may be, give us no information on artistic\nmanifestations. The instinctive tendency to express overmastering\nfeeling, to enhance pleasure, and to seek relief from pain, forms the\nmost deep-seated motive of all human activity. We can therefore derive\nthe distinctive qualities of artistic production from this impulse only\nwhen it has been proved that art is better able than any other kind of\nmental function to serve and satisfy the requirements which arise from\nthis impulse when it occurs in its purest form.\n\nThat this is the case, is the fundamental hypothesis upon which this\nwork is based. It was impossible to prove its validity as long as\nemotional manifestations were treated as phenomena in the psychical\nlife of the individual. For art is in its innermost nature a social\nactivity. In order to elucidate the connection between art-impulse\nand emotional activities, we must therefore examine the latter as\nthey appear in the social relations of mankind. We do not believe\nthat any new principles are necessary for this purpose. We need only\napply to social phenomena the same laws which were found to be valid\nfor the emotional life of the individual. As, however, the legitimacy\nof such a course may be questioned, we must first devote some pages\nto a treatment of what we may call\u2014if the expression is allowed\u2014the\ninterindividual life.\n\nThis digression brings us into a field of inquiry\u2014that of the psychical\nconditions of social life\u2014which during recent years has been the object\nof certain most important scientific researches. The investigations\ninto the psychology of masses, as well as the experiments on suggestive\ntherapeutics, have proved to how great an extent mental states may be\ntransmitted from individual to individual by unconscious imitation\nof the accompanying movements. The doctrine of universal sympathy, a\nclear statement of which was given long ago in the ethical theory of\nAdam Smith,[97] has thus acquired a psychological justification in\nthe modern theories of imitative movement. Contemporary science has\nat last learned to appreciate the fundamental importance of imitation\nfor the development of human culture.[98] And some authors have even\ngone so far as to endeavour to deduce all sociological laws from this\none principle. At the same time natural history has begun to pay more\nand more attention to the indispensability of imitation for the full\ndevelopment of instincts, as well as for training in those activities\nwhich are the most necessary in life.[99]\n\nIt is fortunate for the theory of art that the importance of the\nimitative functions has thus been simultaneously acknowledged in\nvarious departments of science. Whatever one may think of the\nsomewhat audacious generalisations which have been made in the recent\napplication of this new principle, it is incontestable that the\n\u00e6sthetic activities can be understood and explained only by reference\nto universal tendency to imitate. It is also significant that writers\non \u00e6sthetic had felt themselves compelled to set up a theory of\nimitation long before experimental psychologists had begun to turn\ntheir attention in this direction. In Germany the enjoyment of form and\nform-relations has since Vischer\u2019s time been interpreted as the result\nof the movements by which not only our eye, but also our whole body,\nfollows the outlines of external things.[100] In France Jouffroy stated\nthe condition for the receiving of \u00e6sthetic impressions to be a \u201cpower\nof internally imitating the states which are externally manifested in\nliving nature.\u201d[101] In England, finally, Vernon Lee and Anstruther\nThompson have founded a theory of beauty and ugliness upon this same\npsychical impulse to copy in our own unconscious movements the forms\nof objects.[102] And in the writings of, for instance, Home,[103]\nHogarth,[104] Dugald Stewart,[105] and Spencer,[106] there can be found\na multitude of isolated remarks on the influence which is in a direct\nway exercised on our mental life by the perception of lines and forms.\n\nIn most of these theories and observations, however, the imitative\nactivity has been noticed only in so far as it contributes to the\n\u00e6sthetic delight which may be derived from sensual impressions. But its\nimportance is by no means so restricted as this; on the contrary, we\nbelieve it to be a fundamental condition for the existence of intuition\nitself. Without all these imperceptible tracing movements with which\nour body accompanies the adaptation of the eye-muscles to the outlines\nof external objects, our notions of depth, height, and distance, and\nso on, would certainly be far less distinct than they are.[107] On\nthe other hand, the habit of executing such movements has, so to say,\nbrought the external world within the sphere of the internal. The\nworld has been measured with man as a standard, and objects have been\ntranslated into the language of mental experience. The impressions have\nhereby gained not only in emotional tone, but also in intellectual\ncomprehensibility.[108]\n\nGreater still is the importance of imitation for our intuition of\nmoving objects. And a difficult movement itself is fully understood\nonly when it has been imitated, either internally or in actual outward\nactivity. The idea of a movement, therefore, is generally associated\nwith an arrested impulse to perform it.[109] Closer introspection will\nshow every one to how great a part our knowledge, even of persons,\nis built up of motor elements. By unconsciously and imperceptibly\ncopying in our own body the external behaviour of a man, we may learn\nto understand him with benevolent or malevolent sympathy.[110] And it\nwill no doubt be admitted by most readers that the reason why they know\ntheir friends and foes better than they know any one else is that they\ncarry the remembrance of them not only in their eyes, but in their\nwhole body. When in idle moments we find the memory of an absent friend\nsurging up in our mind with no apparent reason, we may often note, to\nour astonishment, that we have just been unconsciously adopting one of\nhis characteristic attitudes, or imitating his peculiar gestures or\ngait.\n\nIt may, however, be objected that the above-mentioned instances refer\nonly to a particular class of individuals. In other minds, it will be\nsaid, the world-picture is entirely built up of visual and acoustic\nelements. It is also impossible to deny that the classification of\nminds in different types, which modern psychology has introduced, is\nas legitimate as it is advantageous for the purposes of research. But\nwe can hardly believe that such divisions have in view anything more\nthan a relative predominance of the several psychical elements.[111]\nIt is easily understood that a man in whose store of memory visual or\nacoustic images occupy the foremost place may be inclined to deny that\nmotor sensations of unconscious copying enter to any extent into his\npsychical experience. But an exclusively visual world-image, if such a\nthing is possible, must evidently be not only emotionally poorer, but\nalso intellectually less distinct and less complete, than an intuition,\nin which such motor elements are included.\n\nThe importance of motor sensations in the psychology of knowledge is\nby itself of no \u00e6sthetic interest. The question has been touched upon\nin this connection only because of the illustration which it gives\nto the imitation theory. If, as we believe is the case, it is really\nnecessary, for the purpose of acquiring a complete comprehension of\nthings and events, to \u201cexperience\u201d them\u2014that is to say, to pursue\nand seize upon them, not only with the particular organ of sense to\nwhich they appeal, but also by tracing movements of the whole body,\nthen there is no need to wonder at the universality of the imitative\nimpulse. Imitation does not only, according to this view, facilitate\nour training in useful activities, and aid us in deriving an \u00e6sthetic\ndelight from our sensations: it serves also, and perhaps primarily,\nas an expedient for the accommodating of ourselves to the external\nworld, and for the explaining of things by reference to ourselves. It\nis therefore natural that imitative movements should occupy so great\na place among the activities of children and primitive men. And we\ncan also understand why this fundamental impulse, which has played so\nimportant a part in racial as well as in individual education, may\nbecome so great as to be a disease and dominate the whole of conscious\nlife.[112] As children we all imitated before we comprehended, and we\nhave learned to comprehend by imitating.[113] It is only when we have\ngrown familiar by imitation with the most important data of perception\nthat we become capable of appropriating knowledge in a more rational\nway. Although no adult has any need to resort to external imitation in\norder to comprehend new impressions, it is still only natural that in a\npathological condition he should relapse into the primitive imitative\nreaction. And it is equally natural that an internal, _i.e._ arrested,\nimitation should take place in all our perceptions. After this\nexplanation of the universality of this phenomenon we have no further\nneed to occupy ourselves with the general psychology of imitation. We\nhave here only to take notice of its importance for the communication\nof feeling.\n\nAs is well known, it is only in cases of abnormally increased\nsensibility\u2014for instance, in some of the stages of hypnotism and\nthought transmission\u2014that the motor counterpart of a mental state can\nbe imitated with such faithfulness and completeness that the imitator\nis thereby enabled to partake of all the _intellectual_ elements of\nthe state existing in another. The hedonic qualities, on the other\nhand, which are physiologically conditioned by much simpler motor\ncounterparts, may of course be transmitted with far greater perfection:\nit is easier to suggest a pleasure than a thought. It is also evident\nthat it is the most general hedonic and volitional elements which have\nbeen considered by the German authors on \u00e6sthetic in their theories\non internal imitation (\u201cDie innere Nachahmung\u201d). They seem to have\nthought that the adoption of the attitudes and the performance of the\nmovements which usually accompany a given emotional state will also\nsucceed to some extent in producing a similar emotional state. This\nassumption is perfectly legitimate, even if the connection between\nfeeling and movement be interpreted in the associative way. And it\nneeds no justification when the motor changes are considered as the\nphysiological correlate of the feeling itself.\n\nEveryday experience affords many examples of the way in which feelings\nare called into existence by the imitation of their expressive\nmovements. A child repeats the smiles and the laughter of its\nparents, and can thus partake of their joy long before it is able\nto understand its cause.[114] Adult life naturally does not give us\nmany opportunities of observing this pure form of direct and almost\nautomatic transmission. But even in adult life we may often meet\nwith an exchange of feeling which seems almost independent of any\nintellectual communication. Lovers know it, and intimate friends like\nthe brothers Goncourt,[115] to say nothing of people who stand in so\nclose a rapport with each other as a hypnotiser and his subject.[116]\nAnd even where there is no previous sympathetic relation, a state of\njoy or sadness may often, if it is only distinctly expressed, pass\nover, so to say, from the individual who has been under the influence\nof its objective cause, to another who, as it were, borrows the\nfeeling, but remains unconscious of its cause. We experience this\nphenomenon almost daily in the influence exerted upon us by social\nintercourse, and even by those aspects of nature\u2014for instance, blue\nopen sky or overhanging mountains\u2014which naturally call up in us the\nphysical manifestation of emotional states. The coercive force with\nwhich our surroundings\u2014animate or inanimate\u2014compel us to adopt the\nfeelings which are suggested by their attitudes, forms, or movements,\nis perhaps as a rule too weak to be noticed by a self-controlled,\nunemotional man. But if we want an example of this influence at its\nstrongest, we need but remember how difficult it is for an individual\nto resist the contagion of collective feeling.[117] On public occasions\nthe common mood, whether of joy or sorrow, is often communicated even\nto those who were originally possessed by the opposite feeling. So\npowerful is the infection of great excitement that\u2014according to M.\nF\u00e9r\u00e9\u2014even a perfectly sober man who takes part in a drinking bout may\noften be tempted to join in the antics of his drunken comrades in a\nsort of second-hand intoxication, \u201cdrunkenness by induction.\u201d[118] In\nthe great mental epidemics of the Middle Ages this kind of contagion\noperated with more fatal results than ever before or afterwards. But\neven in modern times a popular street riot may often show us something\nof the same phenomenon. The great tumult in London in 1886 afforded, it\nis said, a good opportunity of observing how people who had originally\nmaintained an indifferent attitude were gradually carried away by the\ngeneral excitement, even to the extent of joining in the outrages.[119]\nIn this instance the contagious effect of expressional movements\nwas undoubtedly facilitated by their connection with so primary an\nimpulse as that of rapine and destruction. But the case is the same\nwith all the activities which appear as the outward manifestations of\nour strongest feeling-states. They all consist of instinctive actions\nwith which every one is well familiar from his own experience. It\nis therefore natural that anger, hate, or love may be communicated\nalmost automatically from an individual to masses, and from masses to\nindividuals.\n\nNow that the principle of the interindividual diffusion of feeling has\nbeen stated and explained, we may return to our main line of research\nand examine its bearings on the expressional impulse. We have seen that\nin the social surroundings of the individual there is enacted a process\nresembling that which takes place within his own organism. Just as\nfunctional modifications spread from organ to organ, just as wider and\nwider zones of the system are brought into participation in the primary\nenhancement or inhibition, so a feeling is diffused from an individual\nto a circle of sympathisers who repeat its expressional movements.\nAnd just as all the widened \u201csomatic resonances\u201d contribute to the\nprimary feeling-tone increased strength and increased definiteness, so\nmust the emotional state of an individual be enhanced by retroactive\nstimulation from the expressions by which the state has, so to say,\nbeen continued in others. By the reciprocal action of primary movements\nand borrowed movements, which mutually imitate each other, the social\nexpression operates in the same way as the individual expression. And\nwe are entitled to consider it as a secondary result of the general\nexpressional impulse, that when mastered by an overpowering feeling\nwe seek enhancement or relief by retroaction from sympathisers, who\nreproduce and in their expression represent the mental state by which\nwe are dominated.\n\nIn point of fact we can observe in the manifestations of all strong\nfeelings which have not found a satisfactory relief in individual\nexpression, a pursuit of social resonance. A happy man wants to see\nglad faces around him, in order that from their expression he may\nderive further nourishment and increase for his own feeling. Hence the\nbenevolent attitude of mind which as a rule accompanies all strong and\npure joy. Hence also the widespread tendency to express joy by gifts\nor hospitality. In moods of depression we similarly desire a response\nto our feeling from our surroundings. In the depth of despair we may\nlong for a universal cataclysm to extend, as it were, our own pain.\nAs joy naturally makes men good, so pain often makes them hard and\ncruel. That this is not always the case is a result of the increased\npower of sympathy which we gain by every experienced pain. Moreover,\nwe have need of sympathetic rapport for our motor reactions against\npain. All the active manifestations of sorrow, despair, or anger which\nare not wholly painful in themselves are facilitated by the reciprocal\ninfluence of collective excitement. Thus all strong feelings,\nwhether pleasurable or painful, act as socialising factors.[120] This\nsocialising action may be observed at all stages of development. Even\nthe animals seek their fellows in order to stimulate themselves and\neach other by the common expression of an overpowering feeling. As\nhas been remarked by Espinas, the flocking together of the male birds\nduring the pairing season is perhaps as much due to this craving for\nmutual stimulation as to the desire to compete for the favour of the\nhen.[121] The howling choirs of the macaws[122] and the drum concerts\nof the chimpanzees[123] are still better and unmistakable instances\nof collective emotional expression. In man we find the results of the\nsame craving for social expression in the gatherings for rejoicing or\nmourning which are to be met with in all tribes, of all degrees of\ndevelopment. And as a still higher development of the same fundamental\nimpulse, there appears in man the artistic activity.\n\nThe more conscious our craving for retroaction from sympathisers,\nthe more there must also be developed in us a conscious endeavour to\ncause the feeling to be appropriated by as many as possible and as\ncompletely as possible. The expressional impulse is not satisfied by\nthe resonance which an occasional public, however sympathetic, is able\nto afford. Its natural aim is to bring more and more sentient beings\nunder the influence of the same emotional state. It seeks to vanquish\nthe refractory and arouse the indifferent. An echo, a true and powerful\necho\u2014that is what it desires with all the energy of an unsatisfied\nlonging. As a result of this craving the expressional activities lead\nto artistic production. The work of art presents itself as the most\neffective means by which the individual is enabled to convey to wider\nand wider circles of sympathisers an emotional state similar to that by\nwhich he is himself dominated.\n\nWe propose in the next chapter to indicate the way in which art in its\nvarious forms has served the expressional craving.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER VII\n\n                        DEDUCTION OF ART-FORMS\n\n\nIn the science of art many hypotheses have been advanced as to the\norder in which the different art-forms have made their appearance. We\ndo not intend to bring forward any new arguments on this much-debated\nquestion. Even if our knowledge of prehistoric man were so complete\nand trustworthy as to entitle us to draw any conclusions as to the\nearliest stages in art-development, such an appeal to history would in\nthe present connection constitute a grave confusion of standpoints.\nAs long as we are occupied with that abstract datum, the purely\nartistic activity, we cannot possibly find any support for our\nreasoning in existing works of art, concerning which the question\nmay always be raised whether the motive was or was not a purely\nautotelic art-impulse. We shall therefore in the following pages\nentirely ignore the question of historical sequence and restrict our\nattention to the various degrees of theoretical priority. Starting\nfrom the interpretation of artistic activity which was postulated,\nbut not yet proved, in the preceding chapter, we shall consider those\nart-forms as most primordial which stand in the closest connection\nwith the expression of feeling. By comparing those manifestations\nof art-activity which are from our standpoint elementary, with the\nnon-\u00e6sthetic expression of emotional states, we shall try to isolate\nthe peculiarly artistic qualities in their simplest possible form. If\nthe result of such a treatment prove consistent with general \u00e6sthetic\nideals, as exhibited in the literature of art, this fact will naturally\ngo to the credit of our explanation.\n\nThe purest and most typical expression of simple feeling is that which\nconsists of mere random movements. Those activities, whether of the\nwhole body or of special parts,\u2014the larynx, for instance,\u2014which follow\nimmediately upon, or rather accompany, a state of pleasure or pain,\nare in themselves entirely non-\u00e6sthetic. Thus it is impossible to see\nanything artistic in the spectacle of a man leaping or shouting for\njoy. Yet the lowest kind of lyrical music and lyrical \u201cgymnastic\u201d dance\nmay be almost as directly connected with the original state of feeling\nas these purely expressional activities. The only difference is that in\nmusic and dance the movements have been limited and restrained by the\nadoption of a fixed sequence in time. This fixed sequence in time\u2014the\nrhythm\u2014must therefore, from our point of view, be considered as the\nsimplest of all art-forms.\n\nIf we were to give a complete account of the psychology of rhythm, it\nwould be impossible not to resort to a sociological and historical\nmode of treatment. By Dr. Wallaschek\u2019s researches on primitive music\nit has been conclusively shown how important a part rhythm, as a\nmeans of facilitating co-operation, has played in the struggle for\nexistence.[124] And this utilitarian explanation has recently been\ncarried even farther by Professor B\u00fccher, who points out the invaluable\nsaving of effort which the individual obtains by regulating his\nmovements in a fixed sequence of time.[125] We may think that Professor\nB\u00fccher has stretched his point too far in endeavouring to derive almost\nall music and poetry from the economical exigencies of labour;[126]\nbut there can be no doubt that in whichever way the ultimate origin\nof musical arts be explained, their development is largely due to the\npractical advantages of rhythm. These considerations, however, which\nwill be developed in the following chapters, need not detain us here,\nwhere we have to do with the presumably non-utilitarian and purely\n\u00e6sthetic work of art. If the practical advantages of economy and\nco-operation can be eliminated,\u2014if we can imagine a dance and a song\nwhich has not for its aim the facilitation or regulation of some form\nof work or the stimulation of some effort, which, in short, has its\nsole aim and purpose in itself,\u2014then the art-element in this dance or\nsong must be explicable without reference to \u201cforeign\u201d purposes.\n\nThe only explanation we have been able to find is one which brings us\nback to the standpoint of the last chapter. Looking upon art as an\nessentially social activity, we naturally bestow our main attention\nupon rhythm as a factor of unification. But as we are not allowed to\ntake into account its importance for _practical_ co-operation, we can\nonly interpret it as a means of bringing about _emotional_ community.\nAnd it is evident that the fixed sequence in time, when used for the\npurpose of communicating a state of feeling, must produce the same\neffect as when it serves the purpose of diffusing and regulating the\nimpulses to work.\n\nThis fact can also be observed in all cases of social expression. The\nmost general and simple states of emotional excitement, such as a\nfestive mood or a warlike intoxication, may indeed be diffused with\nsufficient efficacy by simple contagious imitation. But even with\nregard to such eminently infectious feelings, if a great mass of\nmen is to be collectively and simultaneously stimulated by a common\nexecution of the appropriate expressive movements, these movements must\nbe regulated by the adoption of a rhythm. On the other hand, as soon\nas the expression is fixed in rhythmical form its contagious power is\nincalculably increased. By its incessant and regular recurrence, the\nrhythm takes a ruthless hold of the attention, and thereby compels\neven the most recalcitrant to yield to the power of the transmitted\nfeeling.[127]\n\nAs evidence of the irresistibility with which a rhythmical expression\nmay rouse an audience to an almost unvoluntary imitation, one may refer\nto the familiar effects of the southern dances. The tarantella, as is\nwell known, often entices the unwilling as well as the willing to join\nin its wild movements. And the same is said of several other Spanish\nand Italian dances. We need only refer to the apologue of the Fandango,\nso often used as a motive of ballets, in which the dance, brought into\ncourt for causing disturbance, compels judge and jury to yield to\nits temptations and dissolve the sitting for a fierce gambade.[128]\nSuch stories give an exaggerated yet typical example of the great\ninfluence which the sight of dancing exercises on the lively Latin\nnations. An impassive Northerner can indeed always master the impulse\nto join actively in a wild dance. But even he cannot avoid sharing the\nexcitement by internal imitation.\n\nIt is, however, impossible to decide with any exactitude whether the\neffects which a dance-performance exercises on the spectators are\nmainly due to the movements themselves or to the rhythm by which they\nare regulated. In order, therefore, to estimate at its proper value the\nimportance of time, it is necessary to examine it as it appears when\nisolated from bodily movement. The lowest types of music, in which the\nelement of melody is of no importance, show us rhythm in its simplest\nand purest form. Such instruments as drums, tom-toms, and castanets\nmay serve as a most effective means of emotional excitation. The same\nexaltation or depression, which in a dance is conveyed by a series\nof varied expressive movements, may be transmitted with almost equal\neffectiveness by a simple sequence of sounds. Any group of acoustic\nimpressions following each other in a fixed rhythm may, independently\nof their character, arouse in the listener the same modifications of\nfunctions and activities, and hence also the same emotional state,\nas was originally expressed by this particular time-sequence. Thus\npure feeling, as it appears when abstraction has been made of all\nintellectual elements, can be as it were exteriorised in rhythmical\nform. And, which is of still greater importance, a pure feeling can in\nthis exteriorisation be fixed down for future repetition. Even in its\nsimplest manifestations art is thus capable of raising an emotional\nstate beyond the limitations of space and time.\n\nIt is most natural, when speaking of the connection between feeling\nand rhythm, to refer to dance and the simplest vocal and instrumental\nmusic. But it goes without saying that the effects are the same in\nkind, although less in degree, when the time-sequence is impressed upon\nour mind in some more indirect way. Thus, by appropriating the element\nof rhythm, which enters into all poetry, we may in reciting or reading\na verse partake of an emotional state in the same way as we do when\njoining, actively or \u201cinternally,\u201d the movements of a dance. Similarly,\nthe formative and decorative arts may, by compelling our eye to follow\na regular arrangement of lines and figures, transmit to us an emotional\nexcitement by the mediation of rhythm. Ornament, that purely popular\nart, may therefore be compared as to its psychological effects with\nsimple popular dances and melodies.[129]\n\nIn these three logically most primordial arts, viz. gymnastic dance,\ngeometric ornament, and unmelodic, simply rhythmical music or singing,\nthe unmotived \u201cobjectless\u201d feeling is expressed in a medium which\ndirectly conveys to us its accompanying modifications of activity.\nNotwithstanding the meagreness of their intellectual content, these\npurely lyrical forms, if we may so call them, are therefore emotionally\nsuggestive to a high degree. General and indistinct moods, such as a\nfeeling of ease, of liberation from restraint, of assurance and power,\netc., may by them be transmitted with unsurpassable fidelity. But\ntheir expressive power is also confined to such purely hedonic states.\nWhenever, therefore, the feeling forms a part of a differentiated\nand fully formed emotion, the impulse to social expression must avail\nitself of some more adequate means of transmission.\n\nIn point of fact there will nearly always, even in the most impulsive\noutburst of pleasure or pain, enter an element of simple dramatic\nrepresentation, by which some of the mental qualities distinctive of\nthe various emotions are communicated. With regard to dancing, for\ninstance, we can only speak in the abstract of any simply \u201cgymnastic\u201d\nforms.[130] Even if the movements originally aim at nothing but\nenhancement or relief for an indistinct emotional state, they will\nunavoidably take the character of such movements as have been\nconnected with some emotion, and thereby, in spectators as well as\nin performers, awaken some faint revival of this complex state of\nfeeling. This process can be very clearly observed in the case of\nthe pseudo-pantomimes which are so general among lower tribes. When\na savage is in a high-strung state of feeling, he generally resorts\nto the same movements which have served him to express the greatest\nand most frequent excitements of his life. Among warlike tribes the\ndances of joy, as well as their developments, salutation dances,\nand complimentary dances,[131] generally have a distinct military\ncharacter.[132] No doubt it may be contended that the particular\ncharacter of these pantomimes was originally a result of political\nconsiderations. In a military state of society it is perhaps simply\na measure of safety to receive strangers with threats. But however\nimportant this utilitarian aspect may be, it seems more probable that\na great part of these apparently unmotived pantomimes, which are\nexecuted when we should expect only a simple outburst of joy, are best\ninterpreted as real instances of borrowed expression, necessitated by\nthe limitations of our means of expression and furthered by associative\nprocesses.\n\nIn the life of self-contained educated men we do not generally\nmeet with this phenomenon in so distinct a form. But even here the\nfragmentary pantomimes into which a man often falls when mastered by\na quite indistinct feeling\u2014we need only refer to the erotic character\nof embraces and other gestures of joy\u2014show us that expression always\nadds an element of definiteness to the psychical state expressed.\nWhen treating of the reactions consequent upon bodily pain, we\nhave already had to take into account the species of imaginative\nmaterialisation, as though pain were a concrete thing, a shirt of\nNessus, by which a sufferer is generally induced to explain his\nautomatic movements. Here we need only point out that a similar, so to\nspeak, mythogenic influence, a natural tendency to personification,\nresults not only from reactions to pain, but also from all expressive\nactivities. An indistinct mood of pleasure thus generally passes\nover into a joy\u2014that is, a feeling which is referred to some cause,\nimaginary or real\u2014when the functional enhancement has reached our\nvoluntary muscles. An oppression, which in its origin may be purely\nphysiological, is transformed, when the bodily modifications become\nmore differentiated,[133] into fear of something unknown\u2014for instance,\nsome impending danger.\n\nSince it is so difficult for the individual himself to perceive a\nmental state as one of pure sensation with no element of thought, we\nneed not wonder that his expression always transmits to the spectator\nsomething more than the mere excitement or depression of simple\nfeeling. However strictly we try to isolate the pure rhythm of a\nlyrical performance, there will always slip into it an element of\nmimetic expression\u2014we do not know of a better adjective\u2014which suggests\na mental state, distincter and better defined than that of pure\nfeeling. In reality, therefore, the dramatic forms of dancing are no\nless primordial than those purely rhythmical manifestations which the\nnecessities of treatment have compelled us to consider as a separate\ngroup.[134] It is also evident that the dramatic or mimetic element\nwill increase in importance as the endeavour to represent mental states\nand transmit them to outsiders becomes more conscious and deliberate.\n\nWe have dealt at sufficient length with the transmission of emotion\nby mimetic expression. A striking instance of this process has\nalready been found outside the domain of art in the contagiousness of\ncollective states of mind. When art adopts emotional transmission as\nan end in itself, this contagiousness is naturally increased. On the\nside of the executant we have to suppose a conscious endeavour to make\nthe mimic expression as easily appropriated as possible; on the side\nof the spectator an increased readiness to partake of the expressed\nfeeling. A theatrical audience, indeed, unlike a riotous mob, does not\ngenerally go so far as to imitate its leader, the actor, by actual\nmovement. Conscious of the fictitious character of the performance, the\nspectators are able to resist the sub-conscious volitional impulses\nwhich they receive. But while thus controlling their outward activity,\nthose who attentively follow the acting may nevertheless appropriate in\nan almost direct manner the feelings represented. Although they remain\npassive spectators and preserve an appearance of immobility, they are\napt to follow, in a kind of abridgment, the attitudes and facial play\nof the performers. At the most critical stages of a popular melodrama\nthe audience always falls into an unconscious pantomime, which, as\nEngel remarked, to the psychological observer is of far greater\ninterest than that enacted on the stage.[135] In the higher forms of\ndramatic art this direct transmission of feeling no doubt loses a great\ndeal of its importance. But we believe that every attentive playgoer\nhas occasional opportunities of observing, in himself if not in his\nneighbours, faint traces of an unconscious and involuntary imitation\nwhich follows all the movements of the performers. Such imitation will,\nof course, become more and more pronounced the more the dialogue gives\nplace to pantomimic action, and the more vividly and convincingly this\naction is represented. As an example of the power with which a good\nmimic may compel even the most critical spectator to participate in\nemotional moods, we cannot quote anything better than the description\nof Garrick in Lichtenberg\u2019s _Briefe aus England_. \u201cHis facial\nexpression is so powerful as to invite imitation. When he is grave his\naudience is grave. When he frowns the house frowns, and it smiles when\nhe smiles. In his hidden pleasure, and in his intimate manner, when, in\nan aside, he gives the audience his confidence, there is something so\nwinning that one\u2019s whole soul goes out to this fascinating man.\u201d[136]\n\nIt may be thought that the above described processes occur only in\nthose arts which can be called dramatic in the proper sense of the\nword. If this were the case, the principle of emotional transmission\nby direct imitation would of course be of very restricted \u00e6sthetic\nimportance. We think, however, that a histrionic element can be\nnoticed, with greater or less distinctness, no doubt, in all the\nvarious forms of artistic production. It certainly enters into\nliterature, where popular authors, especially of the sentimental class,\nalways possessed the secret of suggesting feelings by representing\ntheir manifestations in \u201ccontagious\u201d description. And it plays an\nimportant part in all the arts of design, formative as well as\ndecorative.\n\nWe may often catch ourselves faintly imitating movements or attitudes\nrepresented in sculpture. And this influence of suggestion is felt\nnot only, as Professor Lange thinks, in the case of melodramatic\nsculpture\u2014expressive of the most violent passions\u2014it contributes also,\nin no slight degree, to our enjoyment of the forms which represent the\ngentler moods.[137] However calm and impassive the facial expression\nof a statue may be, the attitude of the body will always communicate\nto us a feeling of some kind, of strength and assurance, or perhaps of\nsettled melancholy.\n\nIn the art of painting this mimetic principle tends to be lost among\nthe descriptive elements. The direct transmission of feeling is\nreplaced by an indirect and associative one. Still, there are few\nworks, if any, in which the histrionic factor is entirely lacking.\nIt may be detected with especial clearness in sentimental or comic\nfigure-painting, which often literally infects us with the emotions it\nrepresents. When looking at a Japanese caricature, for instance, of the\ngods of happiness, we often laugh with the laughter of the picture long\nbefore we have realised the cause of it, or formulated any judgment as\nto the artistic merits of the representation.\n\nIt is true that pictorial art has many branches in which the human\nfigure does not appear at all. But this absence does not by any means\nentail a complete loss of mimetic suggestiveness. As our perceptions,\nwhether of animate or inanimate objects, are always accompanied by a\ncomplete or abortive imitation, any kind of form or movement may call\nforth in us activities distinctive of some emotional mood. Just as a\nrhythmic series of simple acoustic or visual impressions may occasion\nin us the functional modifications accompanying simple feeling, and\nthereby arouse in us the mental state of which this rhythm is an\nexteriorisation, so the mimic movements which are the physiological\ncounterparts of distinct emotion may be, so to speak, translated into\nlines and forms, by which the emotion is reproduced in other minds.\nThus even an object of handicraft\u2014a vase, for instance\u2014may, by the\nsuggestiveness of its shape, affect our emotional life in an almost\nimmediate way. And geometric ornament has an equal, if not even\ngreater, power of conjuring up in us emotional states, which we read\ninto the angles and volutes. Finally, the concrete objects of nature\nare full of \u201cexpressive qualities\u201d which make them available as a means\nof conveying our feelings. The whole world of visual reality can thus\nbe used in a kind of indirect mimetism,\u2014a dramatic expression, so to\nspeak, in which natural and abstract forms replace the human body.\n\nThe course of our argument has led us to emphasise the lyrical and\ndramatic elements in artistic activity. But we do not by any means\nwish to underrate the fact that it is only a very small minority of\nworks the nature of which can be exhaustively described by these two\nqualities. With increased importance of the intellectual elements\naccompanying the emotional states, direct emotional suggestion must\nunavoidably appear an inadequate means of communication. A joy or a\nsorrow, together with a notion of some objective cause of it, rapture\nor admiration, anger, hate, or despair,\u2014all these and similar states\ncan be completely conveyed to an outsider only in so far as they have\nbeen accounted for to his intellect. As the theoretically latest\nmanifestation of the craving for social expression there will thus\nappear an impulse to represent or describe objective events or things,\nby which a feeling similar to that of the producing artist may be\ncalled forth in his audience. And thus in almost all art-forms, in\nornament and music as well as in painting and novels, there will be\nfound an imitation of nature which serves what in the widest use of the\nterm we may call an epic purpose.\n\nThe intellectual justification of a feeling by representation of a\ncause and the orderly form of its direct or secondary expression are,\nhowever, in themselves insufficient to secure a response; the attention\nand goodwill of the audience must first be conciliated. A sympathetic\nrapport always presupposes a state of compliance in at least one of\nthe parties involved. When seeking by means of a work of art to obtain\na response to an overmastering feeling the artist is thus constrained\nto exercise persuasion upon his real or fictitious public. As M.\nSully-Prudhomme has finely remarked, it is only by first caressing our\nsenses that art rouses our feelings and awakens our thoughts.[138]\nBesides that element of beauty which can be immediately derived from\nthe expressed content, and that element of gracefulness which follows\nas result of the psychical freedom attained by expression, there are\nin nearly all works of art qualities whose aim is exclusively to\nplease. If we may risk a somewhat audacious parallel, we may say that\nthe work of art, in the same way as a living organism, an animal or\na plant, entices the attention and charms the senses with the beauty\nof its \u201cmeans of attraction,\u201d not for the sake of these attractions\nthemselves, but for the secret they at the same time conceal and\ndisclose. All these allurements might easily cause a superficial\nobserver to lose sight of the simple fact which lies at the bottom of\nthe artistic work, viz. the feeling-state which demands expression and\nresponse. We thus see why the impulse to attract by pleasing has been\nconsidered as synonymous with the art-impulse.\n\nAs has already been remarked, such an interpretation cannot account\nfor the coercive force of the artistic impulse. And equally with the\ntheories based upon the epic or descriptive elements in art, it is\nincompatible with the principle of the unity of art. If the logical\nevolution of the art-forms is conceived in the way we have described,\nall the various manifestations of artistic activity can be derived\nfrom one common principle. And by the aid of this one principle we are\nable to explain the force of that impulse which, with similar coercive\nforce, urges to creation within the various art-forms.\n\nHowever much the artistic impulse may become differentiated with the\nprogress of culture, its innermost nature will always remain the same.\nHowever complex its manifestations, their aim is always to secure a\nfaithful response to an overmastering feeling. The more accomplished\nthe work of art, the more its creator will become independent of the\nchance audience, which by its sympathetic expression produces an\nenhancing retroaction on his feeling. He learns to give his mental\nstates an embodiment which facilitates their reproduction in wider\nsurroundings. Thus the expressional impulse directs him to place\nhimself in sympathetic rapport with a fictitious public. He creates,\nthat is to say, expresses himself, for an ideal spectator,\u2014for\nposterity or for himself. With a proud indifference to his most\nimmediate social environment, he may thus consider his own production\nas perfectly exempt of any social motivation. The aphorism of Mill,\n\u201cAll poetry is a soliloquy,\u201d would no doubt be accepted by many of\nthe most eminent poets. But the psychological observer cannot help\nremarking that in such soliloquies the ego serves as a substitute for\nan external public. The artist has in a sense a double capacity; and\nartistic creation in solitude may be always explained by the fact that\nthe creator exists also as his own spectator.\n\nThe production of even the most individualistic and most isolated\nartists can therefore be explained only by sociological considerations.\nAnd the same is the case with those artists who work only for\nposterity. It would be wrong to say that art in any one of its higher\nmanifestations aims at transmitting a feeling. Its purpose is far\nrather an immortalisation. But this very desire to perpetuate a mental\nstate, this desire which constrains the artist to strive indefatigably\nfor the attainment of a form, capable of imparting to all men of\nevery country and every age the same enhancement and the same rapture\nwhich he has himself experienced\u2014this highest manifestation of the\nexpressional impulse\u2014can be fully explained only by reference to\nthe enhancing and relieving power of social expression. In whatever\nlight the art-impulse may appear to the reflecting consciousness of\nthe producing artist, this is the only consistent interpretation at\nwhich we can arrive by an examination of the artistic activity on\npsychological grounds.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER VIII\n\n                           ART THE RELIEVER\n\n\nIn the endeavour to secure the transmission and perpetuation of a\nfeeling, the expressional activity gradually loses its purely impulsive\ncharacter. From an almost reflex outlet for abnormal nervous pressure,\nit is more and more transformed into deliberate artistic production,\nwhich is conscious of its aim as well as of the means for attaining\nit. The elaboration of a work of art, in which the expression of\na feeling-state is to be concentrated, and concentrated in a way\nwhich not only facilitates but even enforces in the spectator the\nassimilation of this state, is a complicated operation which cannot of\ncourse take place without the effectual co-operation of intellectual\nand volitional activities. And their co-operation, on the other hand,\nmust evidently exercise some influence on the primordial feeling.\n\nIt is a familiar observation, duly emphasised in all psychological\nhandbooks, that strong feelings make clear thought impossible. Everyday\nexperience, as well as scientific experiment, gives unmistakable\nevidence of the influence which abnormal excitement or depression\nexercises, not only on our ideas and their associations, but even on\nthe perceptions. The converse has perhaps not been stated so often.\nStill, it does not admit of doubt that intensified intellectual\nactivity may, in some cases, even more effectually than motor reaction,\novercome the tyranny of a hypernormal feeling. It is true that every\nmental state becomes more distinct as a phenomenon of consciousness\nwhen our thoughts are directed towards it. Feelings of low and moderate\nintensity may even be enhanced in their purely emotional aspect if we\nlet our intellect play on them. But as soon as a greater intensity of\nfeeling is reached, this relation is reversed. Joy which is so great as\nto be a burden, \u201cDie Noth der F\u00fclle,\u201d[139] and numbing despair, must\ninevitably decrease when there is an increase of distinctness in their\nintellectual elements. The more we can compel ourselves to contemplate\nwith cool and clear attention the causes and manifestations of such\nhigh-strung states, the more we are also able to master them. It is a\nfamiliar experience to everyone that strong fear can be vanquished, if\nonly we can succeed in diverting all our attention to its objective\nsource, and \u201cstare the danger in the face.\u201d When the attention is\nconcentrated and intensified to the utmost degree, it may even, as in\nthe case of fascination, entirely prevent, to our own danger, the very\nrise of this self-preserving emotion.\n\nIn artistic creation we are not concerned with an intentional or\nunintentional effort to overcome feeling. On the contrary the aim is\nhere to keep the strongest possible hold of it in order to give it\nthe most effective embodiment. So irreconcilable, however, is the\nconflict between emotional excitement and intellectual activity, that\nthe latter, even when it expressly serves the purposes of emotional\nenhancement, must neutralise the excess of feeling. A state of strong\npleasure or pain can never be rendered intelligible to outsiders,\nunless its expression is bridled and disciplined by thought. By being\nthus embodied in a fixed form the feeling gains in conceivability as\nwell as in infectious power. But while the effect on spectators and\nlisteners is in this way increased, the artistic form influences the\nfeeling subject himself in a quite different way. Its very clearness\nand distinctness necessarily brings something of that calm which all\nexcitement seeks as relief.\n\nThe immediate reaction which the work of art exercises on its own\ncreator is of course most easily seen and understood in the \u201chigher\u201d\nart-forms with their pronounced intellectual elements. Literary\ninstances of the \u201cpoetic cure\u201d for harassing or oppressing emotion are\ntoo numerous to be mentioned. The only point we need dwell on is the\nquestion how these instances are to be interpreted. When a poet seeks\nto give shape and form to his own sufferings by means of fiction,\nthe relief he obtains is no doubt in part an effect of the diversion\nof activity into the channels of expression. But to a still greater\ndegree it may be a result of the healthful influence exercised by the\ncontemplation of objective reality in the finished work of art. Such an\ninfluence is unmistakable in the most illustrious instance of artistic\nproduction as a life-preserving expedient: Goethe\u2019s _Leiden des\njungen Werther_. In his memoirs the old poet frankly and unreservedly\ndescribes how, when lacerated by the conflict between hypochondriac,\nsuicidal thoughts and an ineradicable love of life and cheerfulness,\nhe resorted to the old homely remedy of writing down his sufferings.\nHe lays especial stress on his desire to give definite form and body\nto his vague feelings of distress. And as we read that afterwards,\nwhen the work lay finished before him, \u201cbound in boards, as a picture\nin its frame, so as to prove the more convincingly its individual and\nconcrete existence,\u201d he could feel \u201cfree and joyful, and entitled to\na new life,\u201d we cannot but explain this renewed courage to live as a\nresult of the sensation of security and support which the beholding of\nexternal form affords.[140]\n\nThus, to begin with, by its character as a palpable, objective reality,\nthe work of art may diminish the subjective disturbance in which it\noriginates. This influence is supplemented by the retroaction of the\n\u00e6sthetic qualities, in the narrowest sense of the term, such as beauty,\nsymmetry, and the like, by which an artist always seeks, intentionally\nor unintentionally, to arrest the attention of his public. The more\ntherefore the work grows in definiteness in the thought and under the\nhand of the artist, the more it will repress and subdue the chaotic\ntumult of emotional excitement. The Dionysiac rapture, as the ancients\nwould have said, gives place to Apolline serenity. In language pruned\nof mythological symbolism, this only means that art is better able\nthan any of the immediate expressional activities to give complete and\neffective relief from emotional pressure. And it further implies that\nhowever earnestly an artist may strive to communicate to his public\nthe exact feeling he has himself experienced, the emotional content\nexpressed in his work will always be of another and more harmonious\ncharacter than the mental state by which his production was originally\ncalled into existence. To the extent that artistic form appears in a\ngiven work or manifestation there will also be present, independently\nof the subject,\u2014cheerful or sad, passionate or calm,\u2014a sense of mental\nliberation, which atones for the excesses of emotional excitement.\n\nIn a final and exhaustive treatment of \u00e6sthetic problems this influence\nof artistic form would need to be traced through all the departments of\nart-activity. And it would be one of the most interesting parts of such\na research to estimate the relative power with which art in its various\nbranches is able to assuage at the same time as it excites. We need not\nhere undertake such a thorough comparative examination of the different\narts. What has been said about literary creation may be applied in\nsubstance to formative production as well. And it even remains true\nwith regard to those most lyrical and immediately expressive arts which\nseem to be altogether destitute of objective form and intellectual\ncontent. Although it has often been said that the lowest kinds of\nmusic are purely emotional manifestations, we may still discern an\nelement of form in the rhythm which regulates even the simplest songs\nand dances.[141] And the creation of this form undoubtedly requires a\ncertain amount of conscious intention and intellectual activity. It\nis therefore natural that the intensest and most abnormally enhanced\nfeeling should exclude the possibility of rhythmical movement.\nExalted joy and violent despair are in their external manifestations\nnot only inharmonious and ungraceful, but also unrhythmic.[142] But\nby subjecting the expression to the yoke of a fixed time order we\nmay succeed in harmonising it. And while the regular recurrence of\nintervals facilitates our movements\u2014which thereby gain in ease and\ngracefulness\u2014the vehemence of our feeling will be abated. Thus it is\npossible that although rhythm powerfully reinforces musical or dramatic\nexcitement, it may at the same time exercise a restraining influence\non hypernormal feeling. And its effects in music and dance show us, in\nthe simplest and most comprehensive of all examples, the importance\nof artistic form. The musical katharsis or relief to sensation always\ninvolves stimulation, but it may nevertheless affect us as a sedative.\nThe more the form-element and attention to form gain in prominence,\nthe more effectual also is the relieving influence of art. Where the\nstimulative element is predominant in a work of art, there the relief\nis less complete.\n\nThis contrast, which can be observed at all stages of artistic\ndevelopment, is eminently conspicuous in ancient art, where high and\nlow forms are often to be found in close juxtaposition. The superiority\nof Greek music over Phrygian music was a favourite topic of the old\nwriters on art, and the legend of the contest between Apollo and\nMarsyas served as a mythological variation on the same theme. Lyre and\nflute stood as symbols for two different classes of art, of which one\nwas violent, orgiastic, and barbarous, while the other was calm in its\nOlympian serenity.[143]\n\nBut the contrast expressed in these parables by the ancient authors\nand some of their modern followers is not so sharp in reality. Even\nthe lively notes of a flute may, to use the old metaphor, by their\nbound time exercise a kind of restraining influence on the passions.\nAnd on the other hand the sedative power of soft music is by no means\nso great as has often been contended. While acting hygienically as\na cure for excess of passion or sorrow it cannot produce any moral\nresult properly so called. As M. Combarieu has pointed out in his\nacute criticism of Cardinal Perraud\u2019s _Eurythmie et Harmonie_, it is\nan incontestable fact, which has only too often been overlooked by\nPlatonising philosophers, that even the most immoral feelings may be\nexpressed in perfect melody.[144] The musical, and still more the\nmerely rhythmical, form cannot change the quality of these feelings; it\ncan only deprive them of their dangerous intensity. The mental state\nthereby gains in pure and unmingled pleasure; it becomes ennobled as\nenjoyment, but it is by no means moralised, at least not according to\nmodern views. It is only from the standpoint of a purely hedonic system\nof ethics that music, or any other art, can be said to exercise an\nimmediate moral influence.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen trying to summarise our researches on the differences between\nartistic and non-artistic expression of emotional states in a\ncomprehensive conclusion, we are again led to that eminently\nillustrative instance\u2014the Bacchantic condition of the ancient Maenads.\nWe have seen that in their description of Dionysiac mania the classical\nauthors enumerate almost all the various orgiastic manifestations which\ncan be found in all periods in different parts of the world. And if\nancient literature affords us an epitome of the various expedients to\nwhich the expressional impulse resorts in its endeavour to enhance and\nrelieve an emotional state, the force of this craving for expression,\non the other hand, nowhere appears with such convincing clearness as in\nthe Dionysiac monuments of classical art.\n\nThe frieze around the Bacchic candelabra in the Louvre proves\nbetter than any psychological analysis to how great a degree the\nDionysiac state is alloyed with pain and the longing for relief. If\nthese Maenads be compared with the figures on the great vases in the\nBritish Museum and with the various Agave reliefs, it will still more\nconclusively appear that it is real distress which compels the dancers\nto seek in ever-increasing excitement deliverance from the burden\nof their feelings. No movement could be more eloquently expressive\nof the corresponding psychical state than the peculiar toss on the\nhead and the backward curve of the upper trunk which can always be\nrecognised in the most violent of the dancers. An approach to this\nattitude (\u201copisthotonos\u201d) sometimes appears, as Spencer remarks in\nhis essay on the Physiology of Laughter, in movements of great joy,\nwhich has not been able to find expression by the usual channels of\ndischarge.[145] But there is no doubt that, however pleasurable the\nquality of the original state may have been, its tone must have been\nradically transformed before it could produce these strained postures.\nA feeling which distorts the body by its efforts to find relief, which\nis not satisfied with the wild cries, the dances, and all the madness\nof the Bacchic intoxication, must in its abnormal exaggeration be\nperceived as a pain. The pathological character of this feeling appears\nfurther from the fact that the very same movement may be observed in\nPierre Breughel\u2019s paintings of hysteric patients and in M. Charcot\u2019s\nphotographs from La Salp\u00e9tri\u00e8re.[146] And this same backward toss of\nthe head may be seen in sculptures of witches, the medi\u00e6val Bacchantes,\nwhere it sometimes gives an impression of proud and insolent defiance,\nsometimes one of profound melancholy.[147] But in the reliefs\nrepresenting Bacchic orgies, side by side with the dancers whose\ndistorted attitude and violent movements betray the pain underlying the\nappearance of revel and riot, there may always be seen the figures of\nwomen moving with easy and graceful step. The freedom of their motion\nshows that they at least have found deliverance from the oppression\nof overstrung feeling. The nervous tension which in their companions\nmanifests itself in unrhythmic, inharmonious leapings and withings, has\nin their case found relief and given place to a feeling of rest and\ncalm. This expression of peace in their faces, attitudes, and draperies\naffords an instructive comment on the Greek notion of Dionysos, the god\nof music, who, with all his wildness is none the less able to still the\ntempests of overpowering feelings.\n\nThis god of music, as conceived by those who gave him a place among the\nOlympians, was not a symbol of dissolute pleasure. On the contrary,\nthe myths tell us how those who oppose his ritual themselves fall\nvictims to a mania even more violent than the Bacchic frenzy itself.\nHis devotees, on the other hand, receive from the stirring notes of\nhis flute and cymbals a determinate form and mould for their otherwise\nvehement and irregular expression-movements. Their joy loses its\ndefiant and barbaric character, their black despair is dissolved into\ngentle sadness. Rightly, therefore, was Dionysos saluted as a deliverer\nwhen, with his merry crew, he marched from village to village. Like him\nart moves among men, ennobling their joy and blunting the edge of their\nsufferings.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER IX\n\n                            THE WORK OF ART\n\n\nAccording to an old theory the classical drama originated in the\nDionysiac cultus.[148] The artistic development of savage and barbarous\ntribes supplies many analogies which strongly support this view. The\nsimplest drama and the most primitive poetry have in most nations\nbeen connected with orgiastic rites which, from the psychological\npoint of view, closely resemble the Bacchic ceremonies. But we may go\nstill further. It has been contended on good grounds that even the\nformative arts made their earliest appearance on the occasion of great\npublic festivals.[149] It might seem that if this view could only be\ncorroborated by a sufficient body of ethnological evidence, there would\nbe no need of any further argument in favour of the emotionalistic\ninterpretation of art. Granted that the simplest manifestations of\nall the different arts served primarily as means of heightening a\nfestive mood, then the psychological origin of the artistic activity\nought to be ascertained by an analysis of high-pitch feeling. The same\nmental causes and conditions which called forth the most primitive\nmanifestations of art, and determined their character, may naturally\nbe assumed to have influenced in greater or less degree the higher\nforms as well. And thus in further support of our view we might simply\nrefer to the study of a typical exaltation with which the preceding\nchapter was concluded.\n\nWe have here an apparently easy solution of the problem before us.\nBut by resorting to it we should expose ourselves to the risk of\nmistakes which is inherent in every historical method. Not only is\nit impossible, as has already been remarked, to make any positive\nassertion as to the purely \u00e6sthetic and autotelic character of a given\nmanifestation: it is almost equally difficult to quote a rite or\npractice the interpretation of which, from the emotional standpoint,\nis clear and undisputed. Even the wild antics of the Maenads, in spite\nof the numerous analogies to them presented by the diseased mental\nstates of modern man, have been explained by some arch\u00e6ologists as a\nstereotyped ritual. The self-wounding and the tearing up of living\nanimals have been interpreted as different forms of a sacrificial cult;\nthe frantic gestures and songs as dramatic representations of ancient\nmyths.[150] It would require too cumbrous an apparatus merely to state\nand criticise existing theories on this point. And even if we could\nprove that the Bacchantic manifestations may be explained without\nreference to religious or commemorative intentions in the dancers, as\npurely emotional activities, grave objections would still remain to be\nanswered. From the medical point of view it might be maintained that\nthe Dionysiac state, as well as all analogous conditions among savage\nand civilised nations, is a purely pathological phenomenon.[151] By\nconnecting artistic production with these states we should therefore\nexpose ourselves to the accusation of treating art as an abnormality.\nAnd it would be of no use to appeal to Nietzsche\u2019s brilliant but\nunconvincing defence of the position that the ancient Dionysiac orgies\nought really to be considered as splendid disorders of health and\noverflowing vigour.[152]\n\nIt is therefore necessary to state explicitly that what we have said\nabout the Dionysiac state must by no means be taken as referring to\nactual historic facts known about the bacchanals. The descriptions of\nEuripides and other classical authors are valuable as expressions of\nthe predominant notions of art quite independently of the reality which\nmay or may not have corresponded to them. The corybantic mania afforded\nto the Greek mind a typical simile by which to illustrate that state\nof formless excitement which precedes the artistic creation. In the\nmythical descriptions of the melancholia of the Thyiads, and in the\nsculptural representations of their dances and extravagances, it was\neasy to recognise\u2014more by instinct, perhaps, than by reflection\u2014the\nsame dissatisfaction and the same longing for fuller and deeper\nexpression which compels the artist to seek in \u00e6sthetic production\ncompensation for the deficiencies of life. And the feeling of\nliberation, which in the artist, upon the attainment of artistic form,\nsupersedes overmastering and inharmonious excitement, seemed explicable\nby the analogy of the relief which the mythical Dionysus bestowed upon\nhis devotees. At a time, therefore, when dancing occupied a prominent\nplace among the arts, it must have been quite natural to consider the\ngod of dance and music as an embodiment of the feelings and impulses\nof artistic creation. For modern times, however, this poetic parable\nhas scarcely even an illustrative value. It would be too far-fetched\nto treat the simple, lyrical dance and song as a general type of art,\nseeing that in real life dancing has long ago been almost entirely\nsuperseded by more complicated forms of artistic activity.\n\nIt is, however, only in such direct manifestations as the simplest\nsong, dance, and poetry that the artistic activity itself is accessible\nto our analysis. With regard to those higher forms of art in which\nthe dramatic and epic elements play an important part, it may indeed\nbe contended that even they originate in an emotional craving for\nexpression. And it can be proved, as we have tried to show in the\npreceding chapters, that such a theory gives us the best explanation of\nthe life-preserving influence of artistic creation. But it is not to be\nconcealed that, as far as painting, sculpture, and the higher forms of\npoetry are concerned, this view is exclusively based upon hypothesis.\nIt cannot be considered as established so long as we have no authentic\ninformation on the feelings and impulses which direct a sculptor or\na painter in his work. The only competent witnesses who can give us\nthis information\u2014namely, the artists themselves\u2014have generally paid\ntoo little attention to theoretic problems to make any observations on\ntheir own mental states during the task of creation; and even when they\ndo so they are deterred by a natural sense of propriety from making\nany public revelations on a matter which affects their most intimate\nemotional life. All the more impertinent would it be for an outsider\nto make _a priori_ assertions on the psychical motives for their work.\nWhile entitled to speak with some confidence on the simple, universal\narts, the theoretical observer cannot, with regard to the specialised\ncrafts, rely upon either experience or sympathetic understanding.\nThe only safe point of departure is here the objective work. Our\ninterpretation can be considered as conclusively established only if\nwe are able to show that the distinctive qualities of the work of\nart, as met with in the highest manifestations of art, are such as to\nprovide some emotional state with the most adequate and most convincing\nexpression.\n\nThe work of art has been the subject of theoretical investigation to\na far greater extent than the artistic impulse. When examining its\ndistinctive qualities we can therefore constantly avail ourselves\nof the researches of earlier writers on \u00e6sthetic. There is no need\nto search for the problems to be solved nor to justify the scheme\nof inquiry. We have to show that our interpretation of the artistic\nactivity is consistent with the general principles according to which\nthe value of art-works is estimated. These principles, on the other\nhand, can evidently be discovered only by studying the judgments on art\nwhich have been embodied in \u00e6sthetical literature. Owing to the mutual\ncontradictions between the several \u00e6sthetic systems, such a study\nis indeed not an easy one. But if minor differences are disregarded\nit is not impossible to find a common standard on which almost all\nwriters agree. For while the theories on art, as different from other\ndepartments of life, have been based upon varying philosophical\nassumptions, the ideal of excellence in art has, at least in the case\nof all real \u00e6stheticians, been developed under the influence of a close\nfamiliarity with the best manifestations of living art. Notwithstanding\nthe ever-varying currents of taste and the individual predilections\nwhich affect even the most impartial judgment, it is thus possible to\npoint to a common fund of simple and catholic principles of criticism.\n\nAs far as the lyrical forms of art are concerned we need not dwell\nat any length on the \u00e6sthetic requirements which they are generally\nexpected to fulfil. It is easy to understand that, however one may\nexplain the purpose of artistic activity and the impulse which leads\nto it, the accomplished work of art must always possess some element\nof sensual beauty which may attract and hold the attention. If we were\nattempting a complete treatment of all \u00e6sthetic problems we might\nattempt to prove that such qualities appear to a very great extent\nas unintentional by-products of artistic expression. The perfect\ngracefulness, for example, which forms the distinguishing merit of all\ngenuine art, is seldom a result of conscious endeavour. As, according\nto its nature, pleasure is necessarily accompanied by facilitated\nconditions of life, an artistic manifestation will generally be\ngraceful in the same degree as it expresses pure and unmingled joy.\nAnd even if the feeling which originally called forth a dance, a song,\nor a drama is one of pain, its expression will unavoidably acquire\nunder the influence of artistic form an element of ease. The freedom,\nand, still more, the unconsciousness, that characterise the \u201cinspired\u201d\ncreation may thus clothe with a peculiar grace even the representation\nof such mental states as in real life manifest themselves in the\nmost inharmonious forms.[153] In the same way dignity, the quality\ncomplementary to grace, may be deduced directly from the emotional\nconditions of artistic activity.\n\nThis explanation does not apply, however, to such special qualities as,\nfor instance, symmetry and proportion. Neither can it be denied that\nthese qualities may be of incalculable importance in art as means of\nheightening the effectiveness of the work. But we hold that a problem\nlike that of symmetry belongs to the science of beauty rather than to\nthe theory of art. By a symmetrical arrangement of its parts, or by a\nright proportion between them, an object may indeed become a thing of\nbeauty; but it acquires an artistic character only in so far as this\nsymmetry and proportion perform or assist the function of expression.\nEven among the most authors who lay most stress on the paramount\nimportance of form there are few who contend that these abstract\nqualities can by themselves bestow the title of art upon a work or a\nmanifestation.\n\nQuite different is the case of those \u00e6sthetic laws which have been\ndeduced from the arts of description. As the majority of writers on\n\u00e6sthetic have restricted their attention to works of art in which\nnature has been imitated or represented, it is only natural that\nartistic merit should be thought to depend on the relation of the copy\nto the original. The most simple explanation is undoubtedly that which\nis adopted by a large section of the public, viz., that an artistic\nmanifestation is perfect in proportion as it gives a faithful rendering\nof objective nature. For all that has been contended by the opponents\nof the realistic movements which predominated in the eighties, we do\nnot think that many producing authors have been guided in their work\nby such narrow notions. In \u00e6sthetic literature at least so radical a\nrealism has been upheld only by a few isolated authors.[154] Ever since\nAristotle\u2019s time it has been laid down that a work of art must be\nsomething other and better than a mere copy. And \u00e6sthetic science from\nits first beginning has in the main agreed upon the general principles\nby which artistic imitation attains perfection. These principles,\nformulated with varying clearness in the earlier systems, have found\ntheir most philosophical elaboration in the works of Vischer and Taine.\nIn his Hegelian terminology the German author puts it that the work\nof art must show us, in an \u00e6sthetic semblance, the full and whole\npresence of an idea which is underlying the things represented. In the\nphilosophy of Taine, which, by making science its point of departure,\ndiffers so greatly from Hegelianism and yet resembles it so strikingly\nin general character, the same thought has been expressed in the\ndoctrine of dominant qualities.[155] If these criteria are divested of\nthe technical garb which makes them so inconvenient to handle, they\nappear to rest ultimately on a simple observation which may be repeated\nin all \u00e6sthetic experience. We find in all descriptive art-works a\nsubordination of qualities supposed to be of inferior importance to\nwhat philosophers of Taine\u2019s school term \u201cla facult\u00e9 ma\u00eetresse.\u201d In\nmost works too there may be found a relation of the represented thing\nto the rest of nature, which in a Hegelian mind may awaken the notion\nof a general idea behind the individual phenomenon. But, as we have\nalready observed, it is a mark of excessive intellectualism to assume\nthat the desire to discover predominant qualities or hidden ideas is\nthe impelling force in art-creation. And we shall now endeavour to\nshow that it is equally one-sided to consider the enjoyment of art\nas conditioned by increased intellectual knowledge of individual or\nuniversal phenomena and ideas.\n\nThe defects of intellectualistic art-theories are perhaps most manifest\nin the system of Taine. Taine himself seems to believe that the\n\u201cfacult\u00e9 m\u00e8re\u201d really exists, and that it can be not only represented\nby an artistical treatment of nature, but also discovered by scientific\nstudy; he is consequently unable to make any proper distinction between\nthe departments of science and art.[156] And, on the other hand, his\nown critical studies show us how incompatible is the principle of\ndominant faculties with a purely scientific conception of reality.\nToo often, in the attempt to deduce every manifestation and every\npersonality from a determinate, all-explaining and all-conditioning\nquality, he loses sight of the rich variety of life, and gains instead\nmerely a brilliant formula. Thus, however suggestive his criticisms\nmay be, they are seldom scientifically exact. There is none, however,\nof all his admirers who would wish to have anything changed in his\nwritings on art; for we know that by this very one-sidedness, which\nis the source of his scientific shortcomings, he has at the same time\nattained his greatest, though perhaps unintentional, triumphs as an\nartist.\n\nIn illustration of this we need only refer to one instance: his\ncelebrated description of the lion.[157] Objections may be raised\nfrom the zoological point of view to his selecting the lion as a\nrepresentative of animal strength, and from the anatomical point of\nview to his deducing its whole configuration from the structure of its\njaws. But it is impossible to deny that precisely by such a one-sided\nand exaggerated portrait Taine has succeeded in giving an expression\nto his admiration for elementary force better than would have been\npossible by a scientifically faithful description. Accordingly Taine\u2019s\nlion, in spite of its faults from the point of view of science, remains\na classical illustration of the \u00e6sthetic importance of dominant\nqualities.\n\nIf we try to explain why it is that the subordination of all characters\nunder one \u201cfacult\u00e9 ma\u00eetresse,\u201d although unfavourable to scientific\ncomprehension, is nevertheless so useful for artistic representation,\nwe shall be unavoidably led to that distinction between scientific and\nartistic purposes which has been overlooked in the intellectualistic\nsystems of \u00e6sthetic. The work of art does not claim to give us, nor\ndo we expect to receive from it, increased knowledge as to the real\nnature or predominant characters of things and events. We only wish to\nget the clearest and strongest impression of the feelings with which\nan object has been contemplated by the artist. It is therefore to the\npsychological conditions for conveying a feeling-state by help of\nintellectual mediation that we should look for the explanation of those\nlaws of artistic composition which Vischer and Taine have interpreted\nin a manner exclusively intellectualistic, and therefore un\u00e6sthetic.\n\nThe desire to fix a passing emotional state\u2014in order to facilitate\neither the revival of the same state or its transmission to\noutsiders\u2014by help of intellectual elements with which the feelings\nhave been associated, is not restricted to the purely artistic mental\nprocesses. In religion and in love this endeavour to evade the\ntransience of feeling is especially evident. And here we may observe\na selection of the intellectual elements and a mode of treating them,\nwhich, although it cannot be called artistic, is nevertheless somewhat\nanalogous to the selective treatment of nature which takes place in\nartistic representation. The institutors of religion have all been\nwell aware of the fact that it is not immaterial what kind of ideas\nand sensations are chosen to embody a feeling. They have understood\nhow impossible it is to impress an emotional state on the mind by the\nmediation of complex conceptions, which, to be fully apperceived,\nnecessitate a particular activity of the intellectual functions. When\nseeking a means of conveying and perpetuating their deepest teaching,\nthey have always, more instinctively perhaps than by any process of\nconscious search, been led to intellectual notions of the simplest\npossible kind. A single impression of sight, touch, or even of taste,\nmay thus, by artificial association, be made the bearer of an emotional\ncontent which could not possibly be conveyed with anything like the\nsame fulness by a less concentrated medium. In virtue, therefore, of\ntheir very simplicity, the vehicles and symbols of religious ritualism\nare the most powerful of all means of emotional suggestion. They offer\nus a simple impression which we can easily embrace with our senses,\nand by the aid of which we can infuse into our mind a rich complex of\nall the moods, such as reverence, ecstasy, and awe, which enter in the\nreligious state.\n\nIn its most abnormally exalted developments love may give rise to a\nfetichistic adoration of objects connected with the beloved which\nis psychologically analogous to the cults of religion. And the same\ntendency to select some single representation or object as vehicle\nof a psychical state, which is so manifest in the case of these\nhigh-strung emotions, may also be noticed in connection with feelings\nof lower intensity. In all departments of psychical life we may thus\nfind a corroboration of the assertion, which was already expressed\nby Hemsterhuis in his speculations on our desires, which always\naim at \u201cun grand nombre d\u2019id\u00e9es dans le plus petit espace de temps\npossible.\u201d[158] We need only consult our memories\u2014for example, of\nlandscapes we have seen\u2014to find that the emotional element of the\nrecollection, our admiration, is always closely bound up with some\nsingle feature of the impression. We may indeed be able to revive the\nvisual image itself by allowing the mind\u2019s eye gradually to pass along\nall its details. But the subjective feelings in which we appropriated\nthe impression and made it our own will not be resuscitated until we\narrive at one particular detail\u2014a single tree, or perhaps a figure\u2014and\nconcentrate our attention upon that. The experience of this law of\nemotional mechanics teaches us to look with a selective attention on\neverything of which we wish to preserve a vivid remembrance. The more\nemotional our intuition of a given whole, the greater is always our\ndesire to concentrate it upon a single impression which supports and\nreconstitutes the original vision. The art of arranging great complexes\nof intellectual and emotional elements around single focal points, so\nto speak, may undoubtedly be greatly developed by exercise. But the\nprocedure itself does not presuppose any conscious intention. It occurs\nalmost as an instinctive expedient for escaping the incompatibility\nbetween diffused intellectual attention and strong feeling. On purely\npsychological grounds, therefore, we may adopt the aphorism of\nTeufelsdr\u00f6ckh: \u201cFor the soul, of its own unity, always gives unity to\nwhatever it looks on with love.\u201d[159]\n\nAs the artistic representation of nature, according to our view,\nexpressly serves the purpose of perpetuating an emotional state, we\nshould expect to meet with such a unity in every work of descriptive\nart. And this assumption may be amply corroborated by reference to\nart-history. We need not go for examples to such extreme schools as\nthat of those modern French painters who endeavour to make every line\nin their pictures converge towards a point or a sharp angle. Within\nthe domain of universally recognised art we may observe how the artist\nalways tries to create a centre of gravity by accentuating some single\nfeature in the event, the landscape, or the figure which serves as his\nmodel. The principle is the same as that of which we avail ourselves\nwhen endeavouring to preserve an emotional state in our memory for\nfuture enjoyment. But the procedure must necessarily be somewhat\nchanged when the task is added of enabling outsiders to partake of the\nmoods we have experienced. It is not then a matter of indifference\nwhich particular detail of a complex impression we single out as\nfocal, and in which way we arrange the bulk of the impression around\nthis focus. Indeed, any random quality, if it is given prominence and\nemphasis, may serve as a means of attracting attention to the work.\nBut if one wishes to impart to spectators the exact emotional mood, of\nwhich a given fragment of nature acts as a representative, it is not\nsufficient to attract the attention of the spectators. We must also\ninduce the spectators to look upon the whole of our model from our\npoint of view. Instead of the casual connection by which in our own\nmind emotional memories may be bound up with some single sensation\nmemory, we must try to introduce a causal connection which persuades\nthe outsider to agree with our choice of the focal quality. The\nfeatures selected for accentuation are to be made central, not only in\nthe technical, but also in the logical sense. Figuratively speaking,\nit is not enough that the lines in a picture should converge towards a\ncertain part; this part must also appear to the spectator as the one\nin which all other parts have their cause and their explanation. Thus\nthe artistic imitation of nature will necessarily be connected with a\nsearch for a predominant quality, and an endeavour to represent this\nquality as a \u201cfacult\u00e9 m\u00e8re.\u201d The things and events which are selected\nfor the embodiment of a given emotional state become displayed in such\na way that their whole being appears to be derived from the one quality\nwhich is most suited to represent this emotional state. The imitation\nis transformed into a construction, or rather reconstruction, by which\nobjective nature is adjusted so as to harmonise with the subjective\npoint of view.\n\nSuch a process of adjusting nature to the requirements of emotional\ntransmission need not always lead to any definite and concrete work of\nart. It may also, as an unrealised tendency, accompany our intuition.\nAnd it is only by virtue of this creative element that the feeling for\nnature may be placed on a level with artistic production. If we are to\nexplain, with Richard Wagner, the \u00e6sthetic attention of the layman as\nthe result of a natural poetic gift (\u201cNat\u00fcrliche Dichtungsgabe\u201d), we\ncannot possibly\u2014as he does\u2014base the artistic value of this attention\non the fact that it is \u201cconcentrating\u201d and \u201cisolating.\u201d[160] For so\nis necessarily every emotional way of looking at things. Artistic\ntreatment of nature, on the other hand, whether abortive or carried to\ncompletion, always involves an endeavour to make the concentrated and\nisolated view acceptable to others. As we cannot explain the creation\nof concrete works of art without reference to a craving for social\nexpression, so we cannot distinguish the artistic from the non-artistic\nintuition without assuming a tendency\u2014unconscious and unintentional\nit may be, but none the less powerful\u2014to socialise the emotional\ncontent, which is connected with a given intuition. The potential poet\nor painter, whose embryo work is bound to remain for ever a fact only\nof his own experience, is seldom apt to realise the purpose of his\nendeavour; he is not aware that he is composing a poem or a picture\nfor himself as spectator or audience. Instinctively, however, he\npursues in the adjusting of his intuition an end which is essentially\nsimilar to that of the actually creating artist. In both these cases\nof creation the impelling motive is, we believe, an emotional one. And\nin both cases the creative activity aims at making an emotional mood\nindependent of the accidental and individual conditions under which it\noriginally appeared. Instead of an intuition, the emotional content of\nwhich is concentrated in a conventional symbol, comprehensible only to\nthe initiated, or in arbitrary centres of association, significant only\nfor those by whom they have been selected, the artistic imagination\ntries to construct an intuition which, if embodied in external form,\nwould by its own force impress itself, with all its accompanying\nemotional elements, upon any spectator. It tends, in short, whether\nconsciously or unconsciously, to perpetuate and to transmit a complex\nof feeling.\n\nWe may now understand why it is that the artistic activity has so\noften been interpreted in an intellectualistic spirit. The search\nfor an all-conditioning and all-explaining \u201cfacult\u00e9 m\u00e8re\u201d by the\nhelp of which to convey in the most forcible way a representation of\nthings and events, may, of course, easily be taken for an endeavour\nto discover the real nature of these things and events. And, in point\nof fact, every artist who has a true and keen eye for nature and life\nwill necessarily light upon qualities which, while affording the most\nappropriate centre of gravity for his representation, are, also in\nthe intellectualistic sense, explanatory of the subjects represented.\nBy making every feature of his model converge towards this selected\nquality, he may thus produce an imitation which, even if it deviates\nfrom the visible reality, may appear truer than this reality itself. In\nproportion as his representation thus convinces us of its conformity\nwith the actual or essential nature of things, it will, other things\nbeing equal, elicit a readier response from the spectator. It is only\nnatural, therefore, that the very works which have exercised the most\npowerful influence on mankind should afford apparent support to the\nviews of intellectualistic philosophers. Nor can it be wondered at\nthat critics, in apportioning censure and praise, have attached so\ngreat an importance to the degree of exactness with which a work of art\nrepresents things or ideas.\n\nSuch an attitude on the part of art-judges becomes the more explicable\nwhen one takes into account the historical conditions under which the\nseveral forms of descriptive art have developed. Poetic and pictorial\nrepresentation have both been extensively used for intellectual\npurposes. And it cannot be expected that the essential aims of artistic\nactivity\u2014as they appear to us when we theoretically distinguish this\nactivity from other forms of life\u2014should be clearly comprehended as\nlong as the concrete works serve a non-\u00e6sthetic purpose. In proportion,\nhowever, as more exact and convenient methods replace the poetic and\npictorial means of thought-conveyance, art will become freer to realise\nits own ends and consequently be judged more and more on its intrinsic\nmerits. As rhythmic form and rhyme gained in distinctly artistic\ncharacter from the time when the invention of systems of writing\nrelieved them from the mnemonic task of preserving a record of events,\nso an \u00e6sthetic emancipation of the formative arts will necessarily\nfollow as a result of increased efficiency in the mechanical means of\nrecording sights. And in point of fact recent movements in art have\nalready shown us how painting has grown more conscious of its essential\naims, from being compelled to give up competition with instantaneous\nphotography.\n\nIt is only the most narrow forms, however, of naturalistically\nimitative art that are thus made superfluous by scientific inventions.\nThose artists whose aim is, not to attain the level of nature by\nservile imitation, but to rival it by idealisation, will always be\nable to point to their task of representing _essential_ qualities as\none which remains for ever a prerogative of artistic production. But\nthere are other signs which make us believe that even this form of\nintellectualistic purpose will gradually lose importance for creators\nas well as for spectators. The currents of thought which now prevail\nare scarcely such as to favour the continuance of professedly or\ncovertly metaphysical doctrines of art. And even if philosophical\nopinion, which, after all, only has to do with the secondary\njustification of feelings and impulses, had remained unchanged ever\nsince Hegel\u2019s time, the changes which have taken place in the very\npersonality of modern man could not but exercise an important influence\non the production and estimation of art.\n\nThe intellectualistic illusion that every artistic representation\nhas something to teach us about the essential nature of the things\nrepresented, can only arise on condition of there being a certain\nagreement between the world-view of the artist and that of his\npublic. It presupposes a certain uniformity in the intellectual make\nof the individual creators and spectators. This condition, however,\nis fulfilled less than ever in modern life. By the influence of\nthe increasing division of labour, characters become more and more\ndifferentiated; and these different characters naturally develop\ndifferent ways of looking at things. The deviations from actual\nnature which are to be met with in the work of an individual artist\nhave therefore a poor chance of convincing each individual spectator\nthat they are in conformity with essential reality, as he is apt to\nconceive it from his individual point of view. Instead of the \u201ceternal\ntruths\u201d so often spoken of in earlier \u00e6sthetic literature, we now\nread about the \u201cillusions particuli\u00e8res\u201d of the several artists. This\nsceptical attitude would of course exclude all vivid \u00e6sthetic life\nif the motives of artistic production and enjoyment were such as\nintellectualistic authors declare them to be. It cannot be observed,\nhowever, that the changed conceptions of art-activity have exercised\nany influence on the practice of artists. The same eagerness with which\nworks were created when they were thought to represent the essential\nnature of things is now displayed by those who are endeavouring to\nproduce works which often do not even pretend to give more than their\npersonal impressions. And the critical public has shown itself\nready to adopt a corresponding attitude in estimating the value of\nartistic manifestations. It no longer lays the chief stress on the\nintellectualistic requirement that artistic representation should be\ntrue to nature. It demands before all that the work of art should\ngive a faithful rendering of the feelings with which the represented\nfragment of nature has been comprehended by the artist. Sincerity, as\ninvolving poetical truthfulness, thus becomes the chief claim which is\nset up for a work of modern art.\n\nIt may be objected that the principles of art-criticism which now\nprevail are too closely bound up with a transient movement to\nbe adduced as proof in a discussion of art in general. When the\ncontemporary current of subjectivism has been succeeded by new schools\nof art, the claim for objective veracity may again acquire greater\nimportance. We have no desire to contend that such an evolution\nwould be wholly regrettable. It is impossible in estimating works\nof art to put aside all logical and ethical considerations; and\nattachment to truth is too ineradicable an ethical instinct not to\ninfluence\u2014consciously or unconsciously\u2014our \u00e6sthetic judgments. But\nalthough it is neither possible nor desirable to exclude regard for\nintellectualistic elements, it may be theoretically advantageous to\nemphasise the distinct character of the \u00e6sthetic judgment. Modern\ncriticism, as it has developed under the influence of modern subjective\nart, exhibits, we believe, the essentially artistic way of enjoying and\nestimating art. Although this attitude, owing to different influences,\nhas been now more, now less, strictly maintained in various periods of\nart history, it has always been adhered to by all who enjoy art for\nits own sake. Whenever we regard a work of art without any secondary\nmotive, we are not concerned with the objective realities which it\ndepicts. We are not interested in the historic Laura whose praises we\nread in a poem. For all we care she may in reality have been lame, and\nred-haired, and hump-backed. We are quite contented if we receive a\nfaithful impression of the beauty with which she charmed her poet.\n\nWhen it has been proved that the rules governing the artistic\nadjustment of reality, which have been stated and vindicated on the\nbasis of intellectualistic theories, may be equally well deduced from\nan emotionalistic interpretation, the argument can easily be extended\nso as to cover the principles governing the selection of subjects and\nmotives for artistic representation. It is required in the Hegelian\n\u00e6sthetic that every single phenomenon which is represented in a work\nof art should suggest the presence of a greater and more universal\nidea.[161] In Goethe\u2019s theory of style in art we meet with the same\nclaim\u2014which is closely connected with his general philosophy of\nnature\u2014that every individual form or movement should have something to\ntell us about the world-process.[162] And when Taine tries to lay down\na scale of gradation for the relative value of works of art, he assigns\nthe highest place to those works in which the qualities exhibited\nare, firstly, as remarkable and essential as possible, and in which,\nsecondly, these remarkable and essential qualities have been made as\npredominant as possible.[163] It can easily be seen that the reasoning\nwhich is here applied to the choice between different things is exactly\nthe same which was used with regard to the different features of\nthe same thing; and the psychological interpretation is, therefore,\nalso the same in both cases. As the craving for the fullest and most\nadequate expression of an emotional state influences the artist in his\nrepresentation of a given fragment of nature or life, so this craving\nmust also influence his selection of the model to be represented. Owing\nto variations in temperament and \u00e6sthetic predilections the relative\nsignificance of these two aspects may be differently estimated in\ndifferent art-schools. But the main principle cannot be invalidated\nby the fact that, for example, in French art and French \u00e6sthetic the\ndefiniteness is emphasised at the cost, perhaps, of richness, while\nin English art suggestiveness is often allowed to make up for lack of\nconcentration.[164] A catholic theory must necessarily account for all\nthe varying \u00e6sthetic ideals which have influenced artistic production.\nAlthough it must be considered as essentially non-\u00e6sthetic to contend,\nas Mr. Ruskin did at one time, that \u201cthat art is greatest which conveys\nto the mind of the spectator by any means whatsoever the greatest\nnumber of the greatest ideas,\u201d[165] it must, on the other hand, be\nadmitted that an individual thing is adequate as a means of conveying\nthe fulness of feeling only if through this individual thing there can\nbe suggested a multitude of other things recalled and represented.\n\nWithout assuming the philosophical principles from which Taine has\nderived his theory of the ideal in art, we may therefore understand\nand accept his scale of gradation of the relative value of works of\nart. And similarly we may interpret in an emotionalistic way all\nthe rules of artistic composition and of conventionalising treatment\nof nature which have been proposed by intellectualistic authors on\n\u00e6sthetic. The nude figure in painting and sculpture, as well as the\nsimple mythological themes in poetry and literature, will thus for\never retain their pre-eminence as subjects of artistic treatment. But\nthis pre-eminence does not depend for its justification upon the fact\nthat they give us an incarnation of the philosophical notion of the\nideal man. It is sufficiently accounted for by their power of conveying\na fuller and richer emotional content than any individually defined\nmotive. Thus it can be explained why even spectators who have almost\ncompletely outgrown\u2014or, if the expression is preferred, have fallen\naway from\u2014idealistic ways of _thought_ are nevertheless ready to\nappreciate the idealistic _feeling_ in the art of Puvis de Chavannes.\n\nIt cannot be denied, however, that those motives which in the Hegelian\n\u00e6sthetic are considered as beautiful _par excellence_ have been\nrelatively neglected in modern art. To some extent this circumstance\nmay be explained by the notion which is gaining more and more ground\nin the public mind\u2014to wit, that in every single phenomenon we may\nsee a _r\u00e9sum\u00e9_ of the whole process of evolution. For it is evident\nthat a spectator who has once adopted this philosophical way of\nlooking at things may find even a well-represented piece of still-life\nquite as rich and \u00e6sthetically saturated as a painting of the most\nuniversal motive. A more important cause, however, is to be found in\nthe fact that modern art, when endeavouring to convey large and full\ncontents by single vehicle-impressions, has learned to avail itself of\nvehicles which cannot, properly speaking, be called either typical or\nrepresentative. In literature especially we may observe that authors\ndwell with instinctive predilection on the description of scenes and\nevents which open our eyes to large views behind them. It would be\nimpossible to characterise all such favourite motives as beautiful; it\nis also often difficult to show that there is any general idea embodied\nin them. But they have invariably the quality of being emotional\ncentres, in which a multiplicity of feelings and sensations has been\nunited. By this quality they become apt to serve the purposes which are\nessential to the artistic craving; and by the same quality they satisfy\nthe requirement of fullest possible enjoyment which is made by the\nspectator. What we demand of the perfect work of art is\u2014to resort to an\noften-used image\u2014that it shall be as a shell, which we may lift in our\nhand and bring to our ear, but in which, notwithstanding its smallness,\nwe may hear the roaring and singing of the sea.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER X\n\n                        OBJECTIONS AND ANSWERS\n\n\nIf the preceding discussion has been to any degree convincing, the\nreader may perhaps have put to himself a question which has often\npresented itself to the author\u2014why no complete \u00e6sthetic system has been\nbased on the psychology of feeling. In recent times some attempts have\nindeed been made to deduce the \u00e6sthetic value of art-works from their\nemotional content.[166] But we do not know of any comprehensive theory\nin which all the distinctive features of art had been consistently\nexplained by reference to an emotionalistic principle. This fact is\nso much the more remarkable as the importance of feeling has been at\nleast accidentally acknowledged by some of the greatest writers on\n\u00e6sthetic, such as, for instance, Taine and Ruskin.[167] It cannot have\nbeen without some reason that these authors have refrained from basing\ntheir art-theories on the notion of a craving for expression,\u2014which\nwould have provided a clear line of demarcation between \u00e6sthetic\nand non-\u00e6sthetic activities,\u2014and have instead explained art as an\nintellectual function, which appears confused alternately with\nscientific, philosophic, and ethical activity. An attempt to trace the\ncauses of this attitude will contribute to a further elucidation of the\nemotionalistic theory of art.\n\nIt may be contended with some appearance of truth that as soon as\nauthors, who are themselves artists, have pronounced their opinion on\nthe purposes of their own art, those who are not artists have no call\nto continue the discussion. But this would be to overlook the fact\nthat the pure artist, as well as the purely artistic activity, must be\nconsidered as an abstraction. The bent of Goethe\u2019s genius, for example,\nwas perhaps by nature quite as much towards science, particularly\nphilosophy, as towards art. Thus, although an artist may himself\nlay the chief stress on the intellectual or ethical elements in his\nwork, his opinion should not induce us to give up the purely \u00e6sthetic\ncriteria which we need for the theoretical definition of art-production\nas an activity to itself.\n\nIt is again only natural that intellectualistic elements should\noccupy the foremost place in the practical art-ideals which artists\nplace before themselves and each other. Technical perfection is the\nonly quality which can be consciously and intentionally aimed at. In\nworks, therefore, which, like Herr Hirth\u2019s _Physiologie der Kunst_,\nare written from the point of view of the executive artist, this\nquality has received special attention.[168] For those who teach it or\nlearn it, art must unavoidably appear as being chiefly a power and a\nskill. But for the theoretical observer it is evident that no kind of\ntechnical accomplishment, however wonderful it may be in itself, can\nimpart to a work that purely \u00e6sthetic merit, art-value. The differences\nin the opinions of artists and theorists may therefore to a great\nextent have their ground in the different aspects of art, differently\nemphasised by either side to suit its own purposes.\n\nIt may, however, be objected that in the case of many artists and\n\u00e6stheticians it has been more than a negative cause which has deterred\nthem from the emotionalistic interpretation. Goethe\u2019s zealous\nchampionship of the intellectualistic elements in art was no doubt\npart of his crusade against prevailing sentimentalism.[169] There\nare many expressions in the \u00e6sthetic writings of Schiller which in\ntheir exaggeration would appear quite incomprehensible if we did not\ntake into account the polemic position which he maintained towards\nthe romantic currents in art.[170] In more recent times the reaction\nagainst the sentimental ideals has given rise to theories which are\nstill more intellectualistic than the maxims of German classicism. By\ntheir dislike of that art which exhibits all the personal and most\nintimate emotions of the artist, the French Parnassians have been led\nto deny completely the part of feeling in all genuine art; and the\nmere existence of such a poetic school may be thought to prove the\ninadequacy of the interpretation of art which has been put forward in\nthe preceding chapters.\n\nThe noblest expression of the personal pride that compels the artist to\nconceive his production as a purely intellectual function may be found\nin Leconte de Lisle\u2019s sonnet \u201cLes Montreurs,\u201d where the poet refuses\nto be a beggar for the gross pity or laughter of the crowd.\n\n    Dans mon orgueil muet, dans ma tombe sans gloire,\n    Duss\u00e9-je m\u2019engloutir pour l\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9 noire,\n    Je ne te vendrai pas mon ivresse ou mon mal,\n    Je ne livrerai pas ma vie \u00e0 tes hu\u00e9es,\n    Je ne danserai pas sur ton tr\u00e9teau banal\n    Avec tes histrions et tes prostitu\u00e9es.[171]\n\nNothing could indeed be further from our intentions than to enter the\nlists against the so-called Parnassian ideas. At a time when intimate\nconfessions seem to be the most sought-for things in literature, we\nhave reason to value every appeal to the dignity of the artist. But\nit is only a confusion of ideas which can lead any one to think that\nthis dignity would be in any way infringed by the adoption of an\nemotionalistic art-theory. We have been especially anxious not to be\nmisunderstood on this point, and this is the only reason why in the\npreceding chapters we have taken so much pains to disentangle the\npsychology of feeling, especially the relation between simple feeling\nand emotions. The word feeling, as it is used colloquially, generally\ninvolves only the fully formed emotions, especially those which are\npainful. Owing to this narrow and inadequate usage, every one who\nspeaks of the importance of feeling for art exposes himself to the\naccusation of sentimentalism. But it is sufficient to point out, with\nregard to such misconceptions, that even pride, joy, elation, and\nall the other pleasurable states, may be quite as emotional as any\nsorrow or melancholy. The poem of Leconte de Lisle, quoted above, may\ntherefore, in spite of all that the author himself may have objected\nagainst such an interpretation, be considered as an expression of\nfeeling. And we can in the same way point out that in every one of the\nmost orthodox Parnassian poems some emotional state has been expressed\nby the poet and conveyed to the reader. It is only by virtue of this\nelement that the poems of this school have attained to their high\npoetical quality.\n\nWithin the department of the pictorial arts want of precision\nin the use of terms has given rise to a confusion which is even\ngreater than that which prevails with regard to poetry. It has been\na natural result of intellectualistic views that in every painting\nthe subject, the situation represented, has been considered as the\nmost important element. As the endeavour to give an explanatory\nrepresentation of external things and events has been assumed as\nessential to the artistic craving, so the essence of the artistic\nwork, its real content, has been looked for in the things and events\ndepicted. Especially when paintings are designated by a descriptive\ntitle, spectators will be apt to turn their attention solely to those\nsituations or impressions which can be subsumed under the title. If\nthey cannot find any emotional element in the subject, they declare\nthe whole painting to be devoid of feeling. And for this misconception\nthey may even find support in the utterances of the artists; for\nthere are many painters who, fearing lest they might be confused with\nthe melodramatic sensation-mongers, have emphatically pronounced\ntheir abhorrence of all emotional suggestion. For the unbiassed\nobserver, however, it is evident that the painter\u2019s joy over a colour\nor a nuance, or the melancholy which can be expressed, without\nany anthropomorphic element, by a mere relation between light and\nshadow, may be as emotional states as those which are embodied in the\nhumorous or sentimental subjects of genre-painting. Every artistic\nrepresentation, whether landscape, figure, or still-life, always\nconveys to us some emotional mood of the painter. If this feeling\nelement has been conveyed in some pictures with greater distinctness\nthan in others, this fact must not prevent us from acknowledging that\nit enters into every kind of art. We do not say, therefore, with\nProfessor van Dyke, \u201cArt to Phidias was a matter of form; to Titian\na matter of colour; to Corot a matter of feeling;\u201d[172] but we say,\nArt to Phidias was a matter of feeling expressed by form; to Titian a\nmatter of feeling expressed by colour; and to Corot a matter of feeling\nexpressed by lights.\n\nIn the essential unity of all feeling we may thus find the point in\nwhich all forms of art, notwithstanding their different subjects\nand materials, have their unity. By laying the chief stress on the\nemotional mood which in every work is conveyed from creator to\nspectator, we save the trouble of dividing the works into different\nclasses. We need not then assume any peculiar principle of admiration\nfor technical skill to explain the enjoyment of Dutch painting or of\nGreek sculpture. Nor need we put ourselves to the pains of deciding\nwhether the subject or the execution is to be considered more\nimportant. The problem of content and form, so much debated throughout\nintellectualistic \u00e6sthetic, does not exist for the emotionalistic\ninterpretation, which sees the essence of art in the feeling embodied,\nsometimes in a great and important subject, sometimes in some\ninsignificant feature of nature or life. And the element of technical\nperfection becomes acknowledged in its proper light when interpreted\nas the indispensable condition for effectually achieving such an\nembodiment.\n\nIt would be impossible, however, to explain as merely a confusion\nof standpoints the fact that certain schools of art have been\nconsidered entirely unemotional. To some extent, no doubt, the\ndeficient appreciation of purely pictorial art is the result of the\ndisastrous influence which has, especially in England, been exercised\nby prevailing currents of criticism. By systematically diverting the\nattention of the public from the essential element in painting, the\nleaders of taste may, no doubt, accomplish great things in deadening\nthe art-sense of nations. But it is scarcely probable that, even if\nhe knew better than to look for a \u201cstory\u201d and literary interest in a\nwork of pure painting, the general spectator would be able to enjoy\nthe _\u00e9tat d\u2019\u00e2me_ which is expressed in an _int\u00e9rieur_ of Ver Meer\nor a landscape of Whistler. To him a painting the whole subject of\nwhich is sunshine, and the figures of which have no mission but that\nof absorbing or reflecting the light, would appear inane and cold.\n\u201cPictorial ideas,\u201d which may represent such a wealth of feeling for\nthe initiated, are thus to the artistically uneducated devoid of any\nemotional content.\n\nThough emphasising as much as possible the unity of art, we are\ncompelled to admit that the feelings which are conveyed in its higher\nand lower forms may be essentially different. While meeting in the\n\u201clower\u201d art of our own and earlier times with an expression of the most\ngeneral emotions and instincts which, by the very vehemence of their\npathos, may awaken the aversion of the refined critic, we partake,\nin the higher art-forms, of feelings that can be derived only from a\ndispassionate contemplation of nature. This difference between higher\nand lower manifestations, though especially marked in painting, can be\nobserved in all forms of art. We have no wish to deny the necessity\nof discriminating between these \u201c\u00e6sthetic feelings\u201d of the higher\nart-forms and the elementary affections, which form the content of the\nsentimental, or, as the German philosophers would say, pathological\nart. The moods of \u00e6sthetic contemplation are, on the contrary, of so\ngreat significance that we can easily understand why they have been\nmade the basis of so many systems of art-philosophy. From the point of\nview of the present work, which does not pretend to lay down a detailed\ncriterion of perfection in art, but which only aims at explaining the\nmost general social and psychological aspects of art-activity, it is\nnecessary to adhere to the element which is common to all art, higher\nas well as lower, primitive or barbaric as well as civilised. And we\ncan only, in passing, indicate the direction in which we believe an\nexplanation is to be sought for the development of \u00e6sthetic attention\nand refined art-sense\u2014those great problems which could be properly\ntreated only in a separate work.\n\nIt has been pointed out by several authors on \u00e6sthetic, and even\nemphasised to excess, that a certain independence of the struggle for\nlife is a condition for the appearance of a higher art. It is indeed a\ncurrent fallacy that art must be the growth of culture and prosperity.\nBut it is nevertheless incontestable, that the peculiar art-sense, the\nartistic intuition _par excellence_, can be developed only in nations\nand individuals who\u2014be it by success in the struggle for life, by\nadvantageous circumstances, or simply by a natural lightheartedness\nof their own\u2014have grown superior to care for life\u2019s necessities.\nThis factor, however, is only a negative condition. By itself mere\nindependence of wants could never have taught any one to derive an\never deeper and stronger pleasure from a thing which stands in no\nimmediate relation to the primary emotions or the primary desires of\nthe beholder or the artist. The \u00e6sthetic education of mankind, its\ngrowth in artistic refinement, could not have been accomplished without\nthe influence of more positive factors.\n\nIn looking for such factors we unavoidably come to that datum which\nhas been carefully excluded from the present part of our research,\nnamely, the concrete work of art. Whatever may have been the conditions\nof their origin,\u2014whether utilitarian or not,\u2014poems, paintings, and\nsculptures must all have occasioned exercise of that interest and\nattention which is independent of the most immediate utilitarian\ninterests. Even if poems, for instance, were written with a purpose\nprimarily historical, they must have afforded both to the poet and\nto his audience the opportunity to consider them as pure works of\nart. Just as moral feelings have been gradually developed under the\ninfluence of actions which may originally have been quite non-ethical,\nso the refinement of \u00e6sthetic sense has been promoted by works of art,\nwhich may themselves have served entirely non-\u00e6sthetic purposes.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XI\n\n                      THE CONCRETE ORIGINS OF ART\n\n\nBy explaining the art-impulse as a form of social expression we have\naccounted for art-creation and art-enjoyment as activities which have\ntheir end in themselves. The emotionalistic interpretation supplied\nus with a principle, which we were able to apply to all stages, the\nlower as well as the higher, of art-development. Without committing\nourselves to any definite statements as to the purely \u00e6sthetic and\nautotelic character of the individual works of art, we felt ourselves\nto be right in assuming that a desire of \u201cexpression for its own sake,\u201d\nor rather for the sake of its immediately enhancing or relieving\neffects on feeling, may have operated as an art-factor on all stages\nof culture, and thus have given an autotelic value even to the lowest\nmanifestations of art. The driving force in art-creation became\ncomprehensible by this assumption; and the most distinctive features of\nthe creation itself could be deduced from this psychological principle.\nIn attempting, however, to explain the refinement of artistic\nattention, we could no longer proceed with purely psychical factors.\nWe were compelled to appeal to the influence exercised by the concrete\nwork of art. The psychological demonstration proving inadequate, it was\nnecessary to supplement it by an historical argument.\n\nIt may be thought, however, that in referring to the educative effects\nof the work of art we need not desert the domain of a strictly\n\u00e6sthetic and psychological inquiry. There is nothing improbable in the\nsupposition that the products of an activity of themselves influence\nthis activity, so as to bring about gradually a thorough change of its\ncharacter. From the expressional impulse, which in the lower stages\nof culture gives rise to crude and simple manifestations, there might\nthus be derived, by the retroactive effects of these manifestations\nthemselves, an increasingly refined form of expression. But such a\nsequence of tendency, however clear and consistent it may appear at\nthe outset, cannot possibly be thought of as unsupported by outside\ninfluences. The more we examine it, the more we shall find that the\nseries of causes is insufficient to explain the series of effects. This\nview, to which we are necessarily led by investigating any period of\nart-history, forces itself upon us with particular cogency when we turn\nour attention to the earliest stages of art-development.\n\nBefore the first work of art had been created, the art-impulse as well\nas the art-sense must necessarily have been in a very undeveloped\nstate. The \u00e6sthetic cravings cannot possibly have gained any\nconsciousness of their purposes ere they had realised themselves in\nsome objective works. Of these objective works, on the other hand, it\nis only the simplest forms that can be derived solely from the pure\nart-impulse. We may consider a lyrical dance, or even a lyrical song,\nas direct outbursts of an emotional pressure, which, if unrelieved,\nwould prove dangerous to the system. But we can scarcely imagine that\nany human being should be able to invent, say, a fully formed drama\nsimply in order to convey in the most efficacious manner the feeling\nby which he is dominated. And it is yet more difficult to understand\nhow the craving after social expression could have created, merely for\nits own satisfaction, such highly developed art-forms as painting and\nsculpture. While we are able to derive the mental compulsion which\nforces the artist to production, and the \u00e6sthetic qualities which give\ntheir distinctive character to his productions from the psychological\nnotion of the art-impulse, we are compelled to look elsewhere for the\norigin and development of the concrete technical medium of which he\navails himself in fulfilling his purpose.\n\nAs in this investigation we are no longer concerned with the abstract\nand ideal work of art, it seems that we may now reasonably appeal\nto those theories which we before found inadequate only because\nthey did not account for the purely \u00e6sthetic qualities of artistic\nactivity. The play-impulse, the impulse to attract by pleasing, the\nimitative impulse, etc., although they give us no information as to\nthe essentially artistic criterion, may nevertheless have called into\nexistence works and manifestations which fulfil the requirements of\nthe several art-forms. Man may have composed dramas, may have painted\npictures, may have made poems, in play, or out of the desire to please,\nor out of the inborn taste for mimicry. In particular the play-impulse\nmust, as we have already admitted in the first part of this work, be\ndealt with as a factor of incalculable importance in the history of\nart. In his conclusive researches on animal and human play Professor\nGroos has succeeded in showing that the chief classes of art-forms\nare already foreshadowed in the various forms of experimentation\u2014that\nmost general and most important kind of play which can be observed\nnot only among children, but even among the higher animals.[173] In\nthe outcome of this simple and common activity we have, it may be\nsaid, a sufficient bulk of raw material of which the art-impulse, when\nonce fully developed, can avail itself in order to fulfil its own\nessentially artistic purposes. And it would therefore seem as if there\nwere no further problem to be solved with regard to the evolution of\nart.\n\nAdherents of this view may, moreover, point to the fact that, apart\nfrom all the motive factors represented by the various non-\u00e6sthetic\nimpulses, the development of art has been favoured by influences of\na more passive or static character. It has evidently been of vital\nimportance to the evolution of architecture and decoration that things\nof useful nature have provided these arts with a kind of concrete\nframe within which to display their manifestations. The effects of\nthis material condition are so much the greater because with his\nconstitutional conservatism man\u2014whether civilised or primitive\u2014always\nallows himself to be bound by old forms long after he has relinquished\nthe technical procedures which have originally called these forms into\nexistence. By the scientific \u201cbiological\u201d researches on decorative art\nit has been conclusively shown how great a portion of the ornamental\n\u201cstore\u201d consists of lines and combinations of lines which have quite\nautomatically been borrowed from an earlier technique. Decorative\nmotives, which to the uninitiated observer appear as products\nof spontaneous artistic activity, thus reveal themselves to the\nhistorical student as unintentional by-products of work. Where earlier\ninvestigators assumed an \u00e6sthetic composition, modern researches\nrefer to the force of mental inertia and the cravings of expectant\nattention.[174]\n\nThere is no intention here to undervalue the methods which are nowadays\nemployed in the study of decorative art, and which, indeed, the writer\nhimself has endeavoured to apply in some earlier studies on art-theory.\nIn the present research, however, it would be inappropriate to trace\nin detail the evolution by which forms originating in mere utility\u2014as\nin basket-work\u2014are gradually transformed into patterns or other\nartistic decorations; for this process, however fertile in effects it\nmay be considered, cannot account for that phenomenon which, above\nall, constitutes the main object of our investigation. Although the\npsychical causes adduced above undeniably have called into existence\nsome of the most familiar ideas in decoration, they cannot possibly\nexplain the importance which decoration itself has attained in the\nvarious human societies. And the same remark evidently applies to all\nthe other psychological sources from which art may be derived. The\nplay-impulse, for example, no doubt suggests a concrete source, but it\ncan in no way explain the important position which art occupies as a\nleading factor in social life. In order to understand why even in the\nlowest stages of development art has been acknowledged as a purpose\nworthy of being seriously pursued, we must investigate this activity\nin its connection with the most important biological and sociological\npurposes of life.\n\nWe propose in the following chapters to examine the most powerful\nnon-\u00e6sthetic factors that have favoured the origin and development of\nthe several art-forms. And while we are keeping in view especially\nsuch utilitarian requirements as those of intellectual information,\nof stimulation for work or war, of sexual propitiation or of magic\nefficiency, we shall be compelled to leave out of consideration all\ndistinctively \u00e6sthetic factors and conditions. Accordingly we shall\nnot be able to maintain in this historical and ethnological inquiry\nthe strictest \u00e6sthetic distinctions. But we hope that the unavoidable\nvagueness in our terminology will not obscure those limitations and\ndemarcations which have\u2014perhaps even too laboriously\u2014been laid down\nin the first part of this work. To preserve consistency between our\ninquiries into the abstract and the concrete origins of art, it\nneed only be stated, once and for all, that the several works and\nmanifestations, as they are to be treated hereafter, are, strictly\nspeaking, only the raw material of art, if art is to be considered in\nthe purest sense as an autotelic activity.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XII\n\n                          ART AND INFORMATION\n\n\nIt is well known that, in the earlier classical times, philosophy,\nhistory, and science were inseparably connected with poetry. And it\nis as familiar a truth that pictographs and ideograms were used for\nwriting before phonetic signs had been invented. But it is not enough\nto recall that poetry and the arts of design have in this way been\nserving the requirements of intellectual information; it can also be\nshown that among primitive tribes every one of the lower art-forms\u2014the\ndance, the pantomime, and even the ornament\u2014has been of great\nimportance as a means of interchanging thoughts.\n\nWhen attempting in this chapter to take a cursory survey of the\nvarious art-forms as used for purely intellectual purposes, we find\nit most advantageous to start with the dramatic examples. It is true\nthat the art of the theatre, in the modern sense of the word, must\nbe considered as a late, perhaps even as the very latest, result of\nartistic evolution. A literary drama, which fulfils all the claims of\na work of art, is possible only on a highly advanced level of culture,\nand it has consequently by most authors on \u00e6sthetic been considered\nas the latest of all art-forms.[175] When dealing, however, with the\nproductions of primitive tribes, we have to adopt a lower \u00e6sthetic\nstandard. Although we do not meet with any tragedies, nor even with\nany real comedies, at this stage of evolution, we can at least point\nto the fact that simple farces, pantomimes, and pantomimic dances\nare to be found among tribes which have so far been unable to create\nany kind of epics, and whose lyrical poetry is restricted to a few\nrhythmical phrases with no intrinsic meaning. And if we use the word\nin its widest sense, so as to include every representation by action,\ndrama can be spoken of as the very earliest of all the imitative arts.\nIt was certainly in use long before the invention of writing, either\nby pictures or letters; perhaps it is even older than language itself.\nAs an outward sign of thought, action is more immediate than words.\nDramatic communication does not even presuppose any conscious intention\nnor any common consent. It may appear on the side of the \u201cspeaker\u201d as\nthe unchecked result of the \u201cEinhaltsstreben,\u201d the universal impulse to\nput into gesture any idea of action which is distinctly conceived\u2014for\ninstance to clench the fist at the thought of striking\u2014and it may be\ncomprehended without any effort by the audience, which by unconscious\nimitation partakes of the communicated thoughts.[176] Such pantomimic\nforms of intellectual exchange seldom indeed occur in civilised life.\nThe \u201cEinhaltsstreben\u201d in a civilised man is generally lost during the\ntransfer from thought to word. Pantomimic display, which involves\nan unnecessary waste of force and time, was doomed to disappearance\nwith the growing development of conventional language. Moreover, the\nrules of propriety tend to confine, at least in educated society, the\nlanguage of the body within as narrow limits as possible. But as soon\nas, by pathological influences, these conditions are annulled, even\ncivilised man necessarily falls back upon pantomimic language. In the\nextreme forms of aphasia we may thus observe how strong the mimetic\nimpulse is when unchecked. There is the more reason to consider these\npathological instances as in some degree typical of the primeval\nmethods of communication, as it is only by assuming an earlier\nsystem of impulsive, self-interpreting signs that we can explain the\nsubsequent development of conventional word or gesture-language.[177]\n\nWe cannot, however, argue from cases of mental disturbance as to the\noriginal language of primitive man. For example, even if aphasia could\nbe considered as a case of atavism,[178] we could scarcely compare the\nmimic capabilities of modern man with those of the unknown, wordless\nbeing whose system of expressive signs, although he were compelled to\nrely exclusively upon it, cannot possibly have been brought to any\ngreat degree of perfection. Illustrations from deaf-mutes and from the\nisolated specimens of \u201chomo sapiens ferus\u201d\u2014Mr. Kipling\u2019s Mowgli\u2014are for\nthe same reason inadequate.[179] As long as ethnology is ignorant of\nany wordless tribes, our notions as to the assumed dramatic language\nrest entirely upon psychological deductions.[180] But the probability\nof these deductions is, more or less, supported by what we know about\nthe lowest tribes now existing. It is true that the information on\nthis point is even more inconsistent than is usual in ethnological\nevidence. But although due allowance must be made for the errors into\nwhich a deficient knowledge of the primitive custom and languages has\nled the various authors, there will nevertheless remain a sufficient\nbody of facts proving the important part which pantomimic communication\nplays in the lower stages of mental evolution. Bushmen, Australians,\nand Eskimos show us a highly developed dramatic language.[181] In some\nparts of Australia it has been noticed that the store of gestures\nis richest among tribes which have enjoyed the least contact with\nEuropeans.[182] And a further ground for considering this mode of\nthought-conveyance as old and primitive is afforded by the fact that,\naccording to Mr. W. E. Roth, its \u201cuse is strictly enforced on certain\nspecial occasions, such as some of the initiation ceremonies.\u201d[183]\nMr. Fraser also believes that gesture-language is taught at the Bora\nceremonies.[184]\n\nIt would, however, be presumption to see in every instance of dramatic\nthought-communication a rudiment of an old and primitive language.\nThere are many causes which favour the adaptation and elaboration\nof mimic language even after a system of phonetic signs has been\nestablished. In a passage which has already been quoted Mr. Roth\nobserves that pantomimic ideograms must be very advantageous \u201con the\nwar-path or the chase, where silence is so essential an adjunct to\nsuccess.\u201d[185] Another reason still more important is the fact that\npantomimic action can be understood by people who speak different\nlanguages. Among civilised nations we may find many instances of\nthe high state of development which gesture-language has attained\nin border countries where different peoples must necessarily often\nmeet.[186] And it is significant that among primitive tribes gestures\nand motions are nowhere so full of significance and intellectual\nexpressiveness as on the plains of Australia,[187] among the savages\nin the interior parts of Brazil,[188] and on the great prairies of\nNorth America,[189]\u2014in a word, in countries where the breaking up of\na nation into small vagrant tribes has been the cause of an extreme\ndialectical disseverance. Under these conditions, however, the\nimpulsive, self-interpreting pantomime is apt to develop gradually\ninto an elaborate system of conventional signs. The gesture-language\nof the North American Indians, for example, which consists almost\nentirely of abbreviated \u201cmoves\u201d of indication and delineation, is\nno doubt eminently adapted to fulfil the practical requirements of\ncomprehensibility and explicitness. But it has not much to do with\ndramatic art in any sense of the word.\n\nOf a more immediate importance for art-history are the pantomimics\nwhich accompany public speaking. In a state of society where every\nmember is entitled to take part in the common deliberations, oral\nlanguage will often prove an inadequate vehicle of thought. Only\nthrough displaying his speech in action is the chief or the priest\ncapable of making its purport comprehensible to the large audiences at\na popular meeting. Rhetoric, therefore, is still among many primitive\ntribes what it used to be in classical antiquity\u2014a dramatic as well as\na literary art.[190]\n\nA pantomime will, of course, by virtue of its greater vividness, convey\nits content of thoughts and feelings with a far greater efficiency than\na merely spoken oration. It may, when especially infectious, induce\nthe audience to join in it as a dramatic chorus. And even when the\nimitation which it calls forth remains purely internal, this imitation,\nnevertheless, enables the spectators to appropriate the text of the\nacted oration in a way which is deeper and far more complete than\ncould ever be possible with regard to an oral speech. As a natural\nsign of emotion pantomimic language opens, as Home would say in his\nquaint way, \u201ca direct avenue to our heart.\u201d[191] It is no wonder,\ntherefore, that dramatic performances on all but the highest stages of\nculture have been used for political agitation as well as for religious\nedification.[192]\n\nWe shall in the following pages, when treating of the religious and\npolitical aspects of art, obtain a fitting opportunity of examining\nthese forms of drama. In the present connection we need only refer\nto them as means of further emphasising the utilitarian aspect of\nmimic representation in the intercourse between savages. After having\nrealised how on the lower stages of culture practical advantages as\nwell as social and religious considerations concur in favouring the\ndevelopment of this early language, we may understand the surprisingly\nhigh dramatic ability of primitive peoples. But while psychological as\nwell as sociological reasons thus confirm us in considering dramatic\naction as the earliest means of conveying intellectual information,\nwe are nevertheless compelled to admit that even in primitive stages\nthe other art-forms also may have served this purpose. In reality\nit is impossible to draw any sharp distinction between dumb-drama\nand primitive poetry. The pantomimic performance will in most cases\nspontaneously supplement itself with a recital, spoken or sung. In the\nsimple representations therefore of real occurrences which characterise\nthe lowest forms of narrative art these two means of intellectual\nexpression generally appear together.\n\nAnd in this connection one will also meet with an early manifestation\nof pictorial art in the form of an extempore design, which serves\nto bring out more fully and clearly the content of the recital. The\ntransition from a delineative gesture to a contour-design is indeed\nso direct and easy that it must have taken place even among tribes on\na very low plane of culture. In some instances we can distinctly see\nhow the one art grows out of the other. Mr. Mallery has described a\ndialogue between some Alaskan Indians, in which the left hand is used\nas an imaginary drawing board upon which lines are drawn with the index\nfinger of the right hand.[193] Herr von Steinen has observed that the\nnatives in Central Brazil, as soon as the gestures prove insufficient\nfor conveying an idea, fashion an explanatory design in the sand.[194]\nThese designs are only a projection on a different surface of the\nhand-movements with which in their pantomimic language they describe\nthe outlines of the objects in the air. One is tempted, therefore,\nto find in these transferred gestures the origin of pictorial\nart. And such an hypothesis seems the more probable as in some\ntribes\u2014particularly among the North American Indians\u2014the picture-signs\nfor denoting things and phenomena have evidently been derived from\nthe corresponding gesture-signs.[195] But it is, as Professor Groos\ncautiously remarks, difficult to know whether any primitive man could\never have thought of delineating the contours of an object had he not\nbeforehand possessed some idea of drawing.[196] Without endeavouring\nto solve this question of origins, it is sufficient for our purpose\nto state that a kind of extempore design, almost as spontaneous and\nfugitive as the dramatic art, appears together with the mimic and\npoetic representations. And we have now only to devote our attention to\nthese various means of information in so far as they may give rise to a\nmanifestation of art, while serving the purely intellectual purpose of\nconveying or elucidating a thought-content.\n\nIt is only natural that the requirements of practical life should\ncall into existence various kinds of mimic, pictorial, or literary\ninformation which have little whatever to do with art, even if this\nnotion is conceived in its widest sense. There is no reason for us to\ndelay our argument by enumerating pantomimics, gestures, or paintings\nwhich aim at communicating notices of trivial importance, such as\ndirections about the way to be taken by travellers, warnings with\nregard to dangerous passages, etc.[197] Even as a purely technical\nproduct a work is of little interest as long as its subject is so poor\nand insignificant. We feel justified, therefore, in restricting our\nattention to such manifestations as present in their contents some\ndegree of coherence and continuity.\n\nThe simplest examples of purely narrative art which fulfil the\ntechnical claims of a complete work will of course appear when the\ntext of the narration consists of some real occurrence which is\nrepresented with all its episodes and incidents. Primitive life\naffords many inducements to such relation. The men who have returned\nfrom war, or from a hunting or a fishing expedition, will thus often\nrepeat their experiences in a dramatic dance performed before the\nwomen and children at home. Although in many cases there is reason\nto suppose that even these performances may be executed to satisfy\nsome superstitious or religious motive, they have undoubtedly, to a\ncertain extent, been prompted by the desire to revive and communicate\nthe memories of eventful days. Other incidents that have made a strong\nimpression upon the minds of the people are in the same way displayed\nin pantomimic action. It is sufficient here to refer to the elaborate\ndramas \u201cComing from Town\u201d performed by Macusi children, in which all\nthe episodes of a journey are reproduced with the utmost possible\nexactness,[198] to the Corrobberrees in Queensland, in which incidents\nof individual or tribal interests, such as hunting or war adventures,\nbut only those of recent occurrence, are enacted,[199] and to the\nperformance in a Wanyoro village, where M. de Bellefond\u2019s behaviour\nduring a recent battle was closely imitated.[200] At the dramatic\nentertainment held before some members of Captain Cook\u2019s expedition an\nelopement scene which had in reality taken place some time previously\nwas performed in the presence of the runaway girl herself. The play\nis said to have made a very strong impression upon the poor girl, who\ncould hardly refrain from tears when she saw her own escapade thus\nreproduced.[201] The imitation of the real action was in this case\nevidently designed as punishment for the guilty spectator; and as\nthe piece concluded with a scene representing the girl\u2019s return to\nher friends and the unfavourable reception she met with from them, it\ntended no doubt to exercise a salutary influence.\n\nThis na\u00efve little interlude, with its satirical and moralising vein,\nnaturally reminds us of those old farces which candidly defined\nthemselves as adaptations of some \u201cscandale du quartier.\u201d\n\n    L\u00e0 elle fut ex\u00e9cut\u00e9e\n    Icy vous est represent\u00e9e.[202]\n\nThe wordless pantomimes and dramatic dances of the modern savages give\nus no information of this kind. But there is no doubt that a closer\ninvestigation would reveal that a great number of the comical and\nheroical episodes which, are described in ethnological literature have\nhad their prototypes in some incidents of recent occurrence.\n\nThis opinion can only be corroborated by extending our investigation\nto the other departments of narrative art. Whatever other merits one\nmight discover in primitive poetry, its strength does certainly not lie\nin invention. When the songs contain any narrative element at all, it\nrefers to some simple experience of the day. Travel, hunting, and war\nafford the themes for the simplest epical poems as well as for the most\nprimitive dramatic recitals.[203] And any event of unusual occurrence\nwill of course be made use of by the poets. Travellers who have learned\nto understand the languages of the natives they sojourn with have\noften observed that their own persons have been described in impromptu\nsongs.[204] Sometimes these songs have a satirical tendency;[205]\nsometimes they are composed as glorifications of the white man.[206]\nBut there is no need to assume either of these tendencies in every\ncase. The mere fact of his being a strange and new thing qualifies\nthe European as a fitting subject for the primitive drama and poetry.\nAnd on the same grounds all the marvels of civilisation\u2014the rifles,\nsteamers and so on\u2014will often be described in poetry.[207] In the\nsavage mind these unknown facts will easily give rise to the most\nmarvellous interpretations. For an instance of such apparently\nfantastic products of poetic imagination, which in reality have their\norigin in an unavoidable misconstruction of an unknown reality, we\nneed only refer to the description of Captain Cook\u2019s ships in the\nHawaii song, which has been taken down by M. de Varigny. The ships\nthemselves are spoken of as great islands, their masts are trees, the\nsailors are gods, who drink blood (_i.e._ claret), and eat fire and\nsmoke through long tubes (_i.e._ pipes), and carry about things which\nthey keep in holes in their flanks.[208] It is but natural to assume\nthat\u2014if researches on the origins of the subjects were possible\u2014the\nseeming richness of invention in many similar poems could be accounted\nfor by the deficient observation and the faults of memory in uneducated\nman. And by such researches the importance of actual experience would\nbe substantiated even with regard to the art of barbaric nations. As\nto the songs of the lower savages, to which we have to restrict our\nattention at present, it is, as shown by the above adduced examples,\nunnecessary to appeal to this explanation.\n\nNot less ephemeral than the literary subjects are the motives of\nprimitive pictorial art. In Herr von den Steinen\u2019s account of the Xingu\ntribes we can find some most typical examples of such explanatory\ndesigns by which the poetic and dramatic recitals of battles, travels,\netc., are supplemented.[209] Owing to their fugitive character these\nsimple manifestations can never be reduced to a scientific account. But\nthere is reason to believe that in all parts of the world pictures have\nbeen drawn in the air or in the sand, of which there remain no more\ntrace than of the gesture that is over or of the unwritten poem that is\nforgotten.\n\nIt is evident, however, that in some instances at least there have\nremained traces of these ephemeral narrations. The picture might have\nbeen drawn on some piece of bark or cloth instead of on the sand,\nthe pantomime might have been repeated even after its subject had\nlost its actuality, or the text remembered after it had served its\nimmediate purpose in the narration. The fugitive recital, whether\npictorial, mimic, or oral, which lives only for the moment might in\nthis way have become a permanent work, conveying the contents of the\nnarrative to future times. One would think that as soon as such a\nmeans of preserving a record of past events had been, intentionally\nor accidentally, discovered, it would have immediately been turned to\naccount. There is, after all, but one step between the impromptu dance\nor poem, which tells of a recent occurrence, and the work of art, which\nforwards the memory of the same occurrence to consecutive generations.\n\nEthnological science shows, however, that this distinction is by no\nmeans a theoretical one only. There are tribes amongst the lower\nsavages in which the pantomimes and dances refer only to the most\nrecent events. And if amongst these tribes some pictures or some dances\nhave been preserved from older times, they appear to be quite isolated\nexceptions, the presence of which one is tempted to attribute to\naccident rather than design. It is only when we look to a higher degree\nof culture that we find a commemorative art, in the true sense of the\nword, appearing.\n\nFrom the point of view of comparative psychology this fact is easily\nexplained. The distance between an impromptu recital of a recent\noccurrence and historical art and literature, as we understand them\nto-day, however short it may appear, covers perhaps the most momentous\nprogress that man has made in his advancement towards culture. Whether\ncommemorative art is to be considered as retrospective with regard to\nsomething that is past, the memory of which it endeavours to revive,\nor as directed towards future generations whom the artist would wish to\nmake participators of the present, it presupposes a power of conferring\nattention upon matters the interest in which is not confined to the\nimmediate present. No psychologist would include this faculty among\nthe attributes of those in the lowest stage of mental development.\nEthnological science, on the other hand, shows that it is as yet\nlacking in some of the existing tribes of the lower savages. In an\n\u00e6sthetic research it is of the highest importance to know exactly when\nand where this attribute appears. In the general history of art no date\ncan be more significant than that which marks the commencement of a\nlarger conception in the mind of the artist of the public for whom he\nworks, bringing in its train, as it does, wider aims concerning his\nwork.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XIII\n\n                            HISTORICAL ART\n\n\nIt is exceedingly difficult to decide at what precise stage in\nthe evolution of mankind we can first distinguish signs of a true\ncommemorative art. It seems pretty evident that the lowest of the known\ntribes\u2014such as the Veddas, the Bubis, the Kubus\u2014live exclusively in\nand for the present, without any memories or traditions as to their\npast. When we turn our attention, however, to tribes in the somewhat\nhigher condition of culture we find that the statements of travellers\nare not at one with regard to this. The Fuegians are said by M. Hyades\nto lack any kind of history and tradition.[210] But, on the other\nhand, one of their pantomimical dances (or rather dramas) has been\nexplained by M. Martial, another member of the Cape Horn expedition, as\ncommemorating the revolt of the men against the women, \u201cwho formerly\nhad the authority and possessed the secrets of sorcery.\u201d[211] The\ninconsistency between these two assertions can, however, be explained\nby the fact that Hyades evidently had in view only the oral tradition.\nThe interpretation of M. Martial again seems to be merely hypothetical.\nMr. Bridges, who is more competent than any one else to speak about\nthis tribe, does not allude to any commemorative element in the \u201cKina,\u201d\nalthough even he thinks that these plays, in which the parts were\nformerly acted by women, are old and traditional in their form.[212]\n\nA similar inconsistency in the use of terms has no doubt been the\ncause of the conflicting reports on the traditional poetry of the\nGreenlanders. In his account of their \u201cWissenschaften\u201d Cranz says that\nthey have no heroic songs describing the doings of their ancestors.\nBut the very wording of this negation\u2014\u201cThey know nothing about them\nexcept that they were brave hunters, and slew the old Norsemen\u201d\u2014shows\nthat it can by no means be adduced to prove complete default of oral\ntradition.[213] And in another passage Cranz expressly says that the\nEskimos, at their sunfeasts, praise the feats of their ancestors.[214]\n\nIt is more difficult to bring into accord the various statements\nconcerning the Melanesians. Mr. Codrington sees a distinguishing\nfeature of this ethnological group in the fact that they, in contrast\nto the Polynesians, are conspicuously devoid of native history and oral\ntradition.[215] But this rule is evidently subject to at least one\nimportant exception, as the Fijians are known to celebrate subjects\nfrom their legendary history in their choral dance-songs.[216] One\nis led to believe, therefore, that in some other island, also of the\nMelanesian group, traditional poetry and traditional dramas may have\nexisted, but escaped the attention of the ethnologists. Negative\nstatements are never to be unreservedly relied upon, least of all\nperhaps in accounts of uncivilised men. The case of the Navajo affords\nan instructive and warning example, which falls exactly within the\nlimits of the present investigation. In spite of the statement by Dr.\nLetherman, who is acknowledged to have been a \u201cman of unusual ability,\u201d\nthat the Navajos had \u201cno knowledge of their origin or of the history of\ntheir tribe,\u201d[217] Dr. Washington Matthews has been able to gather his\nimposing collection of historical songs and traditional commemorative\ncustoms.[218]\n\nAn incident of this kind is apt to make us sceptical with regard to the\nassertion of Captain Cook, which has, however, been unreservedly quoted\nby Lubbock and Spencer, that the Maoris, a race noted for old legends\nand ancient lore, in 1770 had no recollection of Tasman\u2019s visit to\ntheir island.[219] And one is inclined to doubt the trustworthiness of\nSchoolcraft\u2019s informant when he says that the Appalachian Indians had\nlost all recollection of De Soto\u2019s expedition.[220] Compared with the\nstatements concerning the Lenape and the Mohicans, who still remember\nHudson, and the Iroquois and the Algonquins, who preserve traditions\nof the first white immigrants,[221] this assertion will, in any case,\nlose its force as a judgment upon the whole North American race, in\nwhich sense it has, however, been used by Lubbock.[222] On a closer\ninvestigation the Chinooks will perhaps be also discharged from the\nunfavourable verdict passed upon them by Kane, who could never hear any\ntraditions as to their former origin.[223]\n\nIt is safest, therefore, merely to state generally and approximately\nthat among the lower savages the commemorative element is lost sight\nof amid the prevailing _impromptu_ productions. With higher culture\nthe commemorative inclination appears to become intensified. But its\ngrowth cannot be considered as closely accompanying the general mental\nevolution. Whatever great treasures of epical poetry and literature may\nsome day be found amongst the Melanesians, their relative inferiority\nin this respect can never be contested. When a group like this,\nnotwithstanding its unsurpassed ability in formative art,\u2014which,\nhowever, seems to suggest a commemorative purpose,[224]\u2014can be outdone\nin matters of oral history and tradition, not only by the Polynesians\nbut even, it would seem, by the Australians,[225] there is of course\nno possibility of applying the general scheme of evolution to fix the\ndefinite beginnings of commemorative art. _A priori_ assertions do\nnot count in a question in which the reality defeats the assumptions\nof probability in such a surprising manner. Before the ethnological\nknowledge becomes more complete no statement as to traditional art can\nbe accepted as definite.\n\nThe scantiness of reliable information does not, however, constitute\nthe greatest difficulty. The facts themselves, even if their\nauthenticity is granted, are often liable to the most inconsistent\ninterpretations. For an exact appreciation of the influence which\nthe commemorative impulse has exercised on the history of art it is\ninsufficient to enumerate examples, however many might be found, of\ntraditionally preserved works of art. The really important thing is\nto distinguish works which can be considered as genuine specimens of\nhistorical art, _i.e._ as the outcome of a commemorative intention,\nfrom the mere survivals which resemble these in so confusing a manner.\nIn almost every artistic manifestation we can read a story of the past.\nThe tenacity with which the old forms and the old technical procedures\nare retained lends a documentary value to every ornament, picture, or\npoem. By authors with a predilection for historic interpretations this\nrecord element is apt to be considered as intentionally aimed at. The\neuhemeristic view will in this way be applied to the history of art,\nwith results that are often as extravagant as the mythological theories\nthemselves. For every detail in a dance or dramatic performance a\nreason has been looked for in some event of real occurrence. This\nmethod has its strong and sensible side\u2014and a very sensible one\nindeed\u2014in that it does away with the idea of a rich and creative\nimagination in primitive man. It can also be applied to with great\nadvantage for the explanation of artistic manifestation, which would\notherwise be quite incomprehensible.[226] But its use is not, any\nmore than that of any other general theory, to be recommended as a\nmaster-key to all the mysteries of ceremonialism and ritual art.\nThe shortcomings of the method are strongly emphasised by the fact\nthat it has failed in cases which have been chosen expressly for its\nillustration.\n\nForemost amongst the advocates of euhemerism in the study of ceremonial\nstands Captain Bourke, who has taken up and extended to the rites and\ndramas of the living savages the theory of Higgins, that all ceremonies\nof antiquity were created with a view of preserving to the memory\nancient learning and ancient traditions.[227] It would be extremely\nunfair to accuse this indefatigable hunter after analogies of a limited\nunderstanding. In questions of ritualistic detail, such, for instance,\nas those of the flour-sprinkling customs, his comparative studies\nare not only unsurpassed as proofs of learning, but are also full of\nvaluable and instructive suggestions.[228] The stately array of facts\nwhich he has collected from all stages of culture does not, however,\nconvince any impartial reader of the correctness of the main assertions\nin his books. A student of comparative psychology, for instance, will\nalways remember the psycho-pathological influences which everywhere and\nalways tend to provoke the same sort of horrid, scatological orgies, in\nwhich Captain Bourke has seen a commemoration of some old, exceptional\nconditions of life.[229] As to the snake-dance at Walpi, which forms\nthe subject of his earliest great work, it cannot be denied that some\ndetails in the rite and some of the ceremonial paraphernalia are\nillustrative of a way of life which presumably predominated amongst the\nprehistoric Pueblo-Indians.[230] From the dance one might therefore\nreconstruct an epitomised history of the tribe, which would supplement\nthe tales that are told by the constructional details of the \u201ckiva\u201d\narchitecture and the decorative adornments of the Pueblo pottery.[231]\nBut it seems unjustifiable to adduce, as Mr. Spencer has done, this\nrite as a typical specimen of commemorative ancestor-worship.[232]\nIn attempting to explain the origin and the purpose of the rite, the\nlater investigators have also on good grounds neglected to appeal\nto the commemorative intention. As has been conclusively shown by\nthe consummate researches of Mr. Fewkes, the snake-ceremonials are\nmainly and chiefly to be considered as dramatic expressions of the\nwater-cult, which permeates every department in the life of the\nPueblo-Indians.[233] Through such an interpretation the drama is\nbrought into close connection with the religious system as well as with\nthe practical necessities of the Pueblo-Indians. Its significance as\nthe most important of all the national ceremonies is easily understood,\nwhen the rite in its entirety is regarded as only an active form of the\nsame prayer for rain, which is pictorially conveyed in the sand-mosaics\nand in the painted ornaments of the tribe.[234] Its various details,\non the other hand, will find their most unsought-for explanation\nwhen considered as contributing to the great propitiatory purpose.\nWhatever value and interest an euhemeristic interpretation might have\nfor a student of the prehistoric Pueblo-life, the psycho-sociological\nconditions of the rite, so to speak, can be fully comprehended only\nwhen they are investigated in connection with the ideas of ritual magic\nand religious propitiation. The same view holds good, we believe, with\nregard to almost all the religious ceremonies of uncivilised man,\nalthough it may be impossible to prove it in every individual case, as\nthe facts themselves generally are entangled in a most exasperating\nmanner. They must be detached not only from the theoretical\nconstructions of the anthropologists, but also from the euhemeristic\ninterpretations of the natives themselves. The native dogmatism will\noften be even more misleading than that of the scientists.\n\nIt is a well-known phenomenon, which often repeats itself, that when\na higher stage of culture is reached the original significance of a\nrite or a custom falls into oblivion. The custom itself, will, however,\nwith the tenacious conservatism that characterises man, be rigorously\nmaintained long after its origin has been forgotten. Amongst the lower\nsavages no other justification of these ceremonies\u2014incomprehensible\nto the participants themselves\u2014is necessary than the oft-quoted \u201cour\nfathers did so before us.\u201d But with increased intellectual development\nthere must arise a craving for some reasonable explanation. The\nsemi-civilised man never cares to admit to how great an extent his\nactions are automatical. Hence the rationalisation of rites and\ncustoms,\u2014familiar to every student of Christian theology,\u2014which has its\nbeginnings even in the higher stages of savagery. The rationalisation\nmost readily adopted by tribes without developed philosophical or\nethical notions is the historical one. The simple and honest argument\n\u201cbecause our fathers did so\u201d is replaced by the fictitious motive of\nkeeping up the memory of the doings of the fathers. When once this\nreasoning obtains full power it will soon cover the whole field of\nritual life. Every incomprehensible feature in ceremonies or customs\nwill be explained through reference to the past. And when knowledge\nof events falls short of affording such an explanation, popular\nimagination will always be prone to substitute itself for the missing\nreality.[235] In this way a commemorative excuse can easily be found\nfor every apparently illogical action in life.\n\nIn fact, the creation of \u201cetiological\u201d or justificatory history and\nmythology is by no means limited to the department of religious\nritualism. Even more trivial actions, such as games and pastimes, will,\namongst tribes with developed historical tendencies, be connected\nwith imaginary occurrences, which latter will be found to account for\nevery detail in such games and pastimes. With the Cherokee Indians,\nfor example, we find a most intricate animal story, in which the\naction of the bat, the eagle, and other creatures closely correspond\nto the movements of the different participators in the national\nball-play.[236] Although much may be said in favour of the ingenious\nhypothesis of Professor Groos, who suggests that military games, such\nas chess and draughts, may have been developed from dramatic narratives\nof real battles, supplemented perhaps with maps drawn in the sand and\nsimple symbols\u2014stones, pebbles, etc.\u2014representing the various armies\nand soldiers;[237] and although it may reasonably be assumed that the\nbeasts in the animal story of the Cherokees represents the _totems_\nof some old Indian chiefs,\u2014a story like this must be considered as\nsecondary, in its details at least, to the play. More artificial\nstill it sounds when the Moondahs in Bengal affirm that their popular\nEaster-game of pushing eggs the one against the other in reality serves\nas a means of commemorating the feats of Sing Bonga, who, with a\nsingle hen\u2019s egg, crushed the iron globes of his rivals.[238]\n\nUnfortunately, it is but seldom that the commemorative motive shows its\nfictitious nature with so much evidence as in this game. In most cases\nthere will always be a doubt as to whether the religious drama, poem,\nor design was originally intended as a means of conveying knowledge of\nsome real or legendary event, or whether the idea of these events was\nderived from a simple game, a propitiative poem, or a magical design.\nWe have quoted some instances in which the historical interpretation\nis secondary only. But there could easily be adduced other instances\nin which the opposite is the case. Ancient poems, whose historical\nand legendary character is quite incontestable, may often be used as\ncharms in magical ceremonies.[239] It seems quite impossible therefore\nto pronounce any definite judgment as to priority between myth and\nceremony without special investigation of every single case. In the\ndepartment of pictorial art it is scarcely less difficult to separate\nthe genuinely commemorative elements from the close interweaving of\ndifferent motives, which call into existence a work of art.\n\nForemost in rank amongst all the works of design and sculpture that\nhave influenced artistic evolution stand the likenesses of a deceased\nperson which are placed by the relatives on his grave or in his home.\nTo civilised man it is most natural to look upon these effigies as\ntokens of loving remembrance by which the survivors endeavour to\nkeep fresh the memory of the departed. It is also easy for us to\nunderstand that the pious feelings extended towards such effigies\nmay acquire an almost religious character. There is something to be\nsaid therefore on behalf of the view that commemorative monuments\nhave been the predecessors of idols proper. Lubbock, who interprets\nErman\u2019s description of the Ostyak religion[240] in this way, quotes\nin further corroboration _The Wisdom of Solomon_, in which work there\nis to be found a detailed account of the evolution of idolatry from\nmemorial images.[241] The probability, however, is that in pictorial\nas well as in dramatic art the purely commemorative intention belongs\nto the latter stages of culture. It seems in most cases to be beyond\ndoubt that among the lowest tribes the images serve as paraphernalia\nin the animistic rites. They are either taken to be embodiments of\nthe ancestors\u2019 soul, or receptacles in which this soul, if properly\ninvoked, might take up its abode for the occasion. And similar\nsuperstitious notions are entertained, not only with regard to the\nmonuments proper erected on the graves of powerful ancestors, but\nalso with regard to such minor works as, _e.g._, the dolls which are\noften prepared by West African mothers when they have lost a favourite\nchild.[242] The vague and indistinct character of these images shows\nus also that no intellectual record of the individual has been aimed\nat. No more than the poetic effusions of regret with which the pious\nsurvivors endeavour to propitiate the names of the deceased, do\nthese formative works of \u201cpietas\u201d give us any information as to the\npersonality of him whom they pretend to represent.\n\nThis general notion, however, must not be allowed to prevent us from\nadmitting that among sundry tribes of mankind the images may be\nhistorical. This is asserted with regard to the Bongos by Schweinfurth,\nand with regard to the Gold Coast negroes by Cruickshank. The wooden\neffigies on the Marquesas Islands are described by Herr Schmeltz as\n\u201cconstructed in memory of celebrated members of the tribe.\u201d[243] The\nMelanesian sculptures also, according to Codrington, are chiefly\ncommemorative. It must be observed, however, that according to his own\ndescription a sort of religious respect is paid at least to some of\nthem.[244] More undeniably commemorative examples are to be found in\nNew Zealand. Although no attempt to reproduce likenesses is made in\nthese colossal wooden statues, they nevertheless more nearly approach\nthe idea of monumental commemorative portraiture than any similar\nworks of primitive art. The patterns of tattooing, that infallible\nmeans of identification amongst the Maoris, render it possible to\npreserve the memories of the individual ancestors through pictorial\nrepresentation.[245]\n\nNot less problematic than ancestral sculptures are the much-debated\nrock-paintings and engravings that can be found in every part of\nthe world. Herr Andree finds a sort of learned bias in the general\ntendency to look for some serious, sacred, or historical meaning\nin every petroglyph. He points, very sensibly as it seems, to the\nprevailing impulse of the idle hand to scratch some figures, however\nmeaningless, on every inviting and empty surface. Especially at much\nfrequented localities\u2014such as meeting-places, common thoroughfares,\nand places of rest for travellers\u2014where the drawings of previous\nvisitors call for imitation, this temptation must be looked upon as a\nvery strong one.[246] There is no reason for regarding the savage and\nthe prehistoric man as devoid of an impulse, which, as we all know,\nshows its strength among the very lowest and most primitive layers\nof civilised society. It is unnecessary, therefore, to find anything\nmore remarkable in the petroglyphs than is to be found in the familiar\npictures on walls, trees, and rocks which have been wantonly decorated\nby the modern vandal. This common-sense explanation is undoubtedly\nsufficient to account for the origin of many much-debated works of\nglyphic art. But however sound within its proper limits it cannot be\nextended so as to give a general solution of the petroglyph problem.\nIt is not likely, as Mr. Im Thurn observes, that pictures such as the\nrock-engravings in Guiana, to produce which must have cost so much time\nand trouble, should have their origin in mere caprice and idleness.[247]\n\nBut even if the serious aspect of the petroglyphs is granted there\nstill remains the difficulty of determining their special purpose. The\nhistorical explanation, although it would appear the most natural for\nus to adopt, is not to be taken unreservedly with regard to tribes on\na low degree of development. What to us seems a sort of picture-writing\nmight possibly serve a purpose anything but communicative. The\nso-called ideograms of the Nicobarese have, for example, according\nto Herr Svoboda, for their object the distraction of the attention\nof the malevolent demons from their houses and implements[248]. When\ninvestigating the ritual, especially the funeral ceremonies, one meets\nwith various specimens of similar ideography, the thought-conveying\npurpose of which is deceptive.\n\nBy the above examples the ambiguous character of primitive art-works\nhas been proved almost _ad nauseam_. It appears that every single\nconclusion based upon isolated ethnological examples only is liable\nto be upset after a closer study of the facts. In order, therefore,\nto make any positive assertions as to the commemorative element in\nart we need some safer and more reliable grounds of argument than\nthe inconsistent stories of travellers. We have, in other words,\nto investigate the social and psychological conditions which, in\nthe respective cases, speak for or against the assumption of a\ncommemorative impulse as a motive for art-production. Owing to our\ndeficient knowledge of primitive life we are not able to rely upon\nthese social and psychological data in every individual case. But\nwe may nevertheless arrive at some broad results which in the main\ntally with, and corroborate the evidence afforded by, the majority of\nethnological facts.\n\nIt is easy to understand why historical art holds no high place among\nthe lower\u2014that is, the hunting and fishing\u2014tribes. Even if, as is the\ncase in Australia, every unusual occurrence is represented in art with\na view of keeping up its memory,[249] these accidental interruptions\nin a monotonous life cannot possibly contribute to the development\nof an historical interest\u2014that is to say, a commemorative attention\nin the people. When, on the other hand, we meet, in barbaric and\nsemi-barbaric tribes, with a flourishing traditional art, we can also,\nin most cases, point to some peculiar features in their life which\nhave called for commemoration. In a general survey of traditional\npoetry one cannot but be struck by the great prevalence of legends\nabout migrations.[250] As travels and incidents of travel were found\nto provide a favourite subject for the pantomimes and poems described\nin the preceding chapter, so these experiences have also exercised\nan important influence on the songs that have been preserved by oral\ntradition. And as we meet with numerous instances of improvised drama\nand poetry called forth by so eminently interesting an occurrence as\nthe visit of some white people, so we can also trace the same theme in\nmanifestations of historical art from dim and distorted narrations up\nto richly detailed descriptions like those of the Hawajian songs or of\nthe Mangaian \u201cDrama of Cook.\u201d[251] The influence which these motives\nhave exercised on the history of art is only in accordance with the\nuniversal laws of psychology. Tribal memory, no less than individual\nmemory, is dependent for its development on some favourable external\ninfluences that stimulate the attention.\n\nIt must not surprise us, therefore, that the varying experiences of\nwar have everywhere acted as a strong incentive on the commemorative\nimpulse. In this case, however, we have to count with a factor of still\ngreater importance in the directly utilitarian advantage which military\nnations derive from historical art. Through recounting or representing\nthe exploits of earlier generations, the descendants acquire that\nhealthy feeling of pride which is the most important factor of success\nin all brutal forms of the struggle for life. So it has come about that\nhistoric art has everywhere reached its highest state of development\namongst nations who have had to hold their own _vi et armis_ against\nneighbouring tribes, or in the midst of which antagonistic families\nhave fought for supremacy. The more the social institutions have been\ninfluenced by the customs of war, the more important is usually the\npart which commemoration plays in public life. It is highly prominent\nin semi-feudal Polynesia,[252] where domestic warfare was at all times\nof regular occurrence; it has developed to some extent in warlike\nFiji,[253] notwithstanding the Melanesian indifference for the past;\nand it has obtained the position of a state function in military\ndespotisms, such as the barbaric kingdoms of Central and South America\nand Western Africa.[254] In isolated tribes, on the other hand, whose\nwhole struggle has been one against nature, historical art is generally\nto be found at a very low ebb.\n\nThat bygone events have been preserved in history and art chiefly for\nthe sake of their effect in enhancing the national pride can also be\nconcluded from the way in which humiliating incidents are treated.\nThere are, it is true, a few isolated and unhappy tribes which keep up\nsome dim traditions of their inglorious past.[255] Generally, however,\ndefeats are totally ignored in the earliest chronicles. If, however, an\nunsuccessful battle should have provoked artistic manifestations, these\naim at masking the humiliation.[256] The ancient history of Greece\naffords the most curious examples of myths and inventions by means\nof which the popular imagination contrived to conceal disagreeable\ntruths. The fate of Phrynichos, who was fined for having revived the\nmemory of the defeat at Miletus, shows that Greece, even at a much\nlater period, preserved the same primitive ideas as to the _raison\nd\u2019\u00eatre_ of historic art. It is needless to point out to how great an\nextent similar conceptions still prevail amongst all warlike nations,\ncivilised and barbarous alike.\n\nWe must not overlook the fact, however, that defeats are often\nrepresented in unmasked form for the purpose of stirring up a\nrevengeful spirit. But this apparent exception only proves the\nrule. By appealing to the wounded dignity of the people, poems\nand dramas of this kind serve the cravings of collective pride as\neffectively\u2014although, no doubt, indirectly\u2014as manifestations of\nthe opposite order. An increased attention to the past, with a\ncorresponding richness of traditional art, can also generally be found\nin nations where revenge is considered as a sacred duty bequeathed to\ndescendants by their ancestors.\n\nWhen historic art is regarded as a means of handing down to posterity a\nknowledge of the present, a connection with the same group of emotions\nis easily discoverable. The great works of commemoration are all\nmonuments of boasting. By the grandiloquent hieroglyphs on palaces and\npyramids and by the extolling hymns that he orders to be sung in his\npraise, the exultant hero endeavours to win from future admirers a meed\nof praise which shall quench his unsatisfied thirst for glorification.\nEven in this case, therefore, history, in its psychological sense\u2014that\nis, the concentration of attention upon times other than the\npresent\u2014has been born of pride.\n\nBy relying on this emotionalistic interpretation we can explain the\notherwise extraordinary development of commemorative art amongst\ntribes on relatively low stages of intellectual development. The same\nexplanation also accounts for the artistic value of the primitive\nrecords. The intensely emotional element of exultation, pride, and\nboasting that pervades so many of the commemorative poems and dramas\nmakes this kind of history an art in the proper sense of the word.\n\nIt is needless to point out expressly that literary and formative arts\nmay be used for conveying thought-contents which cannot, properly\nspeaking, be called historical. We have restricted our attention to\nthe unmistakably commemorative forms, because in these alone can the\npurpose of information be isolated with any degree of certainty. By\ntracing the gradual development of narrative art from those simplest\nmanifestations in which the work is immediately connected with the\nreal occurrence that called it into existence, up to the more complex\nforms of transmitted art, in which distant events are represented, we\nhave endeavoured to keep our argument within the limits of positive\nresearch. This safe ground we should be compelled to abandon if we were\nto engage in the otherwise so fascinating task of unearthing historical\nelements in mythological tradition.\n\nIt seems impossible, moreover, to treat of such art-forms as the\nnature-myths, the tales, and the animal stories without bringing in\nthose factors which should especially be kept outside the present\nresearch\u2014the art-impulse, the play-impulse, or the delight in pure\ninvention for invention\u2019s sake; whereas we are justified in treating\neven the highest purely commemorative art as the development of an\nactivity which was connected with the utilitarian end of information.\n\nIt must not be overlooked, however, that primitive art offers some\nimportant and purely didactic manifestations which have no historical\npurpose. Thus, among savages and barbarians, dramatic performances,\npoetic recitals, and pictorial representations often serve as means of\nexpounding religious or philosophical doctrines. We need only refer\nto the most striking instances, such as the Australian miracle-plays,\nin which the old men enact before the boys a representation of death\nand resurrection.[257] Although less elaborate in dramatic detail and\nstage-management, the fragmentary dramas in which the Indian shaman\nnovitiates are supposed to be killed and recalled to life present to\nus a scarcely less interesting result of the same great thought.[258]\nThere are indeed, especially in this later example, good reasons for\nassuming that the simulated death and resurrection are supposed to\neffect, in a magical way, some kind of spiritual regeneration in the\nnovitiates on whose behalf the drama is performed. But while admitting\nthis, we may nevertheless take it for granted that an endeavour to\nelucidate the doctrines of the shaman priesthood may be combined with\nthe magical rite in question. And similarly, with regard to analogous\nceremonies in other tribes, we feel justified in assuming the presence\nof a didactic purpose. The more the doctrinal system becomes fixed\nand elaborated, the greater need will there ensue of affording these\ndoctrines a clear expression in the objective forms of art.\n\nWhat has been said about religious and philosophical subjects in\ndramatical art refers equally to poems and paintings. We have therefore\nto regard the requirements of religious instruction as a factor which\nhas favoured the development of art in all its departments. But we\nhave no means of ascertaining at what precise stage in the evolution\nthis factor, as distinct from other motives, began to exercise\nits influence. The settlement of this special point, however, is\nnot indispensable to a general comprehension of the principles of\nart-history.\n\nIt is more important, from our point of view, to determine the\ninfluence which the purely intellectual motive of conveying with\nthe greatest possible clearness a thought-content, be it historical,\nreligious, or philosophical, has exercised on the artistic\nrepresentations of life and nature. Although of itself essentially\nnon-\u00e6sthetic, this purpose has nevertheless called into existence some\nmost important \u00e6sthetic qualities. Especially in narrative painting\nwe may often observe how the virtues of exactness, explicitness, and\ncomprehensibility give a character of beauty to representations which\nmay have originated in a purely practical intention. As has been\nclearly pointed out by Mr. Walter Crane, the Egyptian hieroglyphs have\nreached their \u201cwonderful pitch of abstract yet exact characterisation\u201d\nprecisely because they had the character and the purpose of a\n\u201cdecorative record.\u201d The same necessity, viz. that \u201cevery object\nhad to be clearly defined so as to be recognised at once and easily\ndeciphered,\u201d[259] is undoubtedly to a great degree responsible for the\nelement of beauty which is to be found in the pictography of North\nAmerican Indians. Practical utility has in this way subserved the\ndevelopment of an attention to the picturesque side of things. But\none has only to look at the more symbolical systems of ideographic\nwriting, such as the Assyrian, the Mexican, and the Chinese, in order\nto understand that the intellectual requirement by itself never would\nhave created an _artistic_ representation of nature.[260]\n\nThis distinction is especially indispensable for a right conception\nof the intellectual elements in poetry. It is undeniable that some of\nthe most important qualities in literature were developed during the\ntime when it was used chiefly as a means for conveying information.\nThe practical considerations therein have undoubtedly influenced\nthe form of the oral narrative. It is evident, for example, that the\nmetrical and rhythmical recital must have proved the more serviceable\nwhenever a thought-content was to be preserved for futurity. But this\nfact gives no authorisation to those curious theories according to\nwhich poetry was invented and developed, thanks to its merits as a\nmnemonic device. It is, as was long since remarked by Brown,[261]\ndifficult to understand how rhythm, numbers, and verse could have been\ndevised as assistance for the memory, supposing nothing of that kind\nto have been existing before. And even if we admit that they could\nhave been invented by accident, it is plain, when we fix our mind on\nthe _essential_ qualities of poetry, that the use of rhythm and metre\nto aid memory could only have supplied a _mechanical_ condition to\nfacilitate the development of poetic art.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XIV\n\n                            ANIMAL DISPLAY\n\n\nIn a treatment of the relation between art and sexual life the facts\nmust necessarily be classified under two different headings, namely,\nthe influence of artistic activity upon sexual selection and the\nimportance of erotic motives in works of art. These two points of view\nhave indeed often been confounded with each other. But it will soon\nappear from the following how indispensable it is to maintain the\ndistinction between them.\n\nIn modern literature there has scarcely appeared any treatise of the\nsame importance, not only for the theory of art, but also for \u00e6sthetic\nproper, as the chapters on sexual selection in _The Descent of Man_. As\nis well known, Darwin supposes a necessary connection between beauty\nand art. He takes it for granted that music, poetry, drama, and the\nrest chiefly aim at pleasing. When he sees that activities and forms,\nwhich at least technically correspond to the various kinds of art,\nare to be met with not only among the lower tribes of man, but even\namong some of the higher animals, he therefore explains these forms\nand activities as emanating from a conscious or unconscious endeavour\nto please through beauty. And for this endeavour he finds a reason in\nthe necessity of gaining preference in the favour of the female. By\nendowing the female with \u00e6sthetic attention and \u00e6sthetic judgment[262]\nhe has been able not only to explain the appearance of art amongst\nsavages and animals, but also to account for the importance of beauty\nin life.\n\nIn the foregoing arguments we have already with sufficient clearness\npronounced our dissent from Darwin\u2019s primary supposition. In the\nchapter upon the art-impulse we have tried to show that this tendency\nin its essence is something quite different from the tendency to\n\u201cattract by pleasing.\u201d But with all this theoretical argumentation\nit has of course not been proved that the endeavour of the males\nto win the favour of the females by singing, dancing, and other\nsimilar performances has exercised no influence on the _history_ of\nart. However little these activities may have to do with real art,\nthey might, however, have afforded a raw material to be used by the\nart-impulse proper for its own purposes. In this connection it is\nnecessary, therefore, to discuss the question, To what extent has\n\u00e6sthetic choice, exercised by either of the sexes in selecting a mate,\nfavoured the development of artistic activities in the other sex?\n\nThe \u00e6sthetic theory of Darwin has its chief interest in the fact that\nit can be applied to the activities of animals as well as to those of\nmen. Darwin himself has chosen the majority of his examples from bird\nlife, and his critics have generally restricted the discussion to the\nzoological application of his thesis. As the data of animal psychology\nare less complicated than the corresponding facts in the mental life of\nman, it is in every respect advantageous to begin with this supposed\nanimal art. When the illustrations are chosen from bird life the\nargumentation can, moreover, be handled with a freedom which would be\nimpossible in discussing the delicate questions of human erotics and\nsexual life.\n\nThe theory of an appeal to some primordial \u00e6sthetic appreciation\nin the hen birds is one which, however well it may account for the\nbeautiful plumage of some species and for the melodious singing of\nsome others, necessarily must arouse objections from the point of view\nof comparative psychology. \u00c6sthetic judgment presupposes a certain\ndevelopment not only of intellectual qualities, but also of moral\nself-restraint. In other words, it might be said that attention to\nbeauty, whether manifested in forms or colours or sounds, always\nis what Ribot calls an \u201cattention volontaire.\u201d[263] It is hard to\nbelieve that the hen really has reached such a state of spiritual\nfreedom that, when looking at the finery and the antics of her rival\nsuitors, she could be able to bestow her attention upon the \u00e6sthetic\nqualities in the display. One has only to work out into all its details\nand consequences the idea of a bird who approves or disapproves the\nperformance, and who, after balancing the merits of the various\ncompetitors, awards her prize to the one nearest her ideal of beauty,\nin order to realise the improbability, not to say the absurdity, of\nthis avian connoisseurship. M. Espinas, who describes in detail the\ndilemma of the anxiously hesitating arbiter, has added nothing to\nthe theory of \u00e6sthetic selection. But it may safely be said that his\nillustration of the thesis acts as a caricature of it.[264]\n\nThe improbability of an \u00e6sthetic judgment is yet more palpable when\none considers the state of mind in which the hen is likely to be on the\noccasion. It has indeed been contended with regard to some species\u2014as,\nfor instance, the satyr bird\u2014that the hen behaves with a perfect calm\nand indifference during the display of the cock.[265] But it would be\nundoubtedly too rash to form any general conclusion on the ground of\nher outward show in some single instances. Amongst the wood-birds, on\nthe other hand, the hens are known to be so excited during the \u201cBalz\u201d\nthat they can easily be caught with the hands.[266]\n\nTo all these _a priori_ objections there may also be added the remark\nof Geddes and Thomson, that if the females of insects and birds had\nreally called into existence all the detailed patterns on the dresses\nof their respective males by the exercise of \u00e6sthetic selection, they\nwould possess more discrimination than is shown in their predilection\nfor any sort of gaudy-coloured objects, such as pebbles, slips of\npaper, and rags.[267]\n\nHowever great the psychological improbability of the supposed\n\u00e6sthetic selection, there is still more reason to take exception to\nit from an evolutionistic point of view. The female appreciation\nfor gaudy and gorgeous dresses must necessarily, as Darwin himself\nremarks, in many cases give rise to a plumage, as a result of which\nthe males become encumbered in their movements and easily discovered\nby their enemies.[268] \u00c6sthetic judgment, which is in itself so\nincomprehensible, would thus have been developed in a continuous\nconflict with natural selection. This circumstance, more than anything\nelse, makes it indispensable to look for some more utilitarian cause of\nthe secondary sexual characters and activities than the hypothetical\nnecessity of satisfying a sense of beauty in the female sex.\n\nBy the theory that has been advanced by Wallace, and further\ndeveloped by Westermarck, the nuptial dresses of the males have\nindeed been accounted for in a simple way.[269] Reference to the need\nof recognisable marks for every different species can explain the\nmost prominent characteristics in male plumage without any appeal\nto an \u00e6sthetic sense. This need, together with the equally great\nindispensability of protective colouring, must necessarily give rise\nto precisely such brilliant coloured spots on a monotonous or plain\nsurface as are so often found on the bodies of the northern birds. The\ngaudier coloration of the tropical species, on the other hand, appears\nas a result of their more brilliant surroundings. Even here protective\ncolouring often leaves to the colour of recognition only a narrow and\nlimited space, on which this has to develop itself with so much the\ngreater intensity. In this way one can find a reason not only for the\ndecorations, which are beautiful according to our standard, but also\nfor the inharmonious and glaring colour-combinations.\n\nAn adherent of sexual selection can, however, easily object that these\ntheories, however sound and sensible they may be, still leave the main\npoint in Darwin\u2019s thesis quite unaffected. When trying to prove the\nexistence of an \u00e6sthetic judgment in birds, he did not lay so much\nstress upon decorative plumage itself as upon the fact of its being\ndisplayed in the presence of the hen. If secondary sexual characters\nhad their only purpose in facilitating recognition between individuals\nof the same species, then these elaborate performances would be quite\nsuperfluous. And this argument can of course be further strengthened by\nreference to the musical and dancing entertainments given by the males.\nAny theory which leaves these activities unexplained must therefore be\nregarded as incomplete.\n\nIn Mr. Wallace\u2019s _Darwinism_ due attention has indeed been paid\nto pre-nuptial performances. But his explanation, viz. that the\ndancing and singing, etc., are only the effect of an inner impulse to\nmovement and activity which accompanies sexual maturity,[270] can but\nincompletely unriddle the problem. For the purpose of affording an\noutflow to a surplus of vigour or of discharging a nervous tension,\nactivities of a far simpler character would have been sufficient. As,\nhowever, amongst birds with gorgeous plumage every movement in the\ndisplay tends towards exhibiting their splendour with the greatest\npossible _\u00e9clat_, an influence upon the hen cannot be argued away. It\nis, as Darwin remarks, impossible to believe that the Argus pheasant,\nfor instance, should have developed precisely such a curious and\npeculiar sort of dance, through which his beautiful dress is so\neffectively shown forth, if this dance had been of no effect upon\nits spectators.[271] This effect cannot, as has been shown above, be\nconsidered an \u00e6sthetic one. It is also difficult to believe that the\nhen, as it has been suggested, should appreciate the secondary sexual\ncharacters as signs of greater or smaller vital force, and thus prefer\nnot the most beautiful, but the most vigorous and ardent mate.[272]\nWhether it is founded on an \u00e6sthetic judgment or on an estimation\nof the force displayed, her conscious choosing seems to be alike\nimprobable.\n\nBut if it is difficult to believe that the display of the males could\ncall forth an intellectual activity in the hen, such as that of\ncomparing and valuing the merits of the rival suitors,[273] one can\nsafely assume that it might influence her emotional and instinctive\nlife. And for the production of such an effect there is no need to\nsuppose any intervening \u00e6sthetic activity. Considering the close\nparallelism which shows itself in the development of either sex, it\nwould only be natural if a colour and voice alteration in the cock,\nwhich undeniably is dependent upon sexual ripening,[274] should\ndirectly and almost physiologically imply a reaction in the sexual life\nof the hen. The more energetically the male forces himself upon the\nattention of the female by the conspicuous visual and acoustic signs of\nhis sex, the more powerful must necessarily be the emotional response\nin her.\n\nIf secondary sexual characters are interpreted in this way, as signs,\nby which the sex of the male is manifested in an unmistakable manner,\nthen one can easily understand the influence of a prolonged display.\nWhen the cock is exhibiting his plumes or pouring forth his notes, and\nthereby impressing upon his female listener the notion of his malehood,\nhe cannot but produce in her an enhanced inclination for pairing.[275]\nShe needs no \u00e6sthetic appreciation or intellectual judgment in order\nto comprehend the simple text of all his utterances. With all her\ninstincts and impulses she can at once grasp the only thing she wants\nto know\u2014the thing that is brought home to her with a greater and\ngreater clearness during the continuation of his performance, namely,\nthat the passionate actor in front of her is a mature representative\nof the other sex. And besides this, the secondary sexual characters\nand activities tell another tale of no less importance. If the colours\nand the tones of the cock, as Westermarck has shown, are of great\nconsequence for facilitating from a distance recognition between\nmembers of the same species,[276] their biological significance is\nperhaps yet greater when they, during the display before the hen,\naccentuate the community of species. By virtue of her inherited\nconstitution, the instinctive life of the hen will be deeper stirred\nthe more the male is able to show that he \u201cwears the feathers of her\ntribe.\u201d\n\nIt is evident that the effect upon the hen must be greater in\nproportion as the sex marks and species marks of the male are more\nclearly defined, and therefore easier to perceive. Not only as means\nof recognition, but also as instruments for sexual incitement,\ncolour-patterns with lucent points must be more advantageous than any\nother system of decoration. It is easily understood that a design like\nthat on the tails of pheasants and peacocks is eminently capable of\nattracting the female attention to the displaying cock. But it would\nbe stretching the theory too far if the marvellous \u201cballs on sockets\u201d\nwere explained as nothing but conspicuous signals, the meaning of\nwhich the hen is able to decipher by help of her inherited instincts.\nThe influence of the display is amongst these species undoubtedly\nstrengthened by an action which is quite independent of any sexual\nassociations. Besides accentuating the sex and kind of the cock, these\nluminous spheres will, moreover, in virtue of their very smallness\nand brilliancy, provoke a stimulation in the mind of the hen before\nwhom they are vibrated. To understand this effect, it is necessary\nto investigate the more general question of animal appreciation of\nbrilliancy.\n\nThe powerful attraction exercised by lucent things can be sufficiently\nproved by numerous instances from the life of insects and fishes as\nwell as of higher animals. It is needless to dwell upon the various\nmeans by which man has availed himself of this disastrous predilection\nin order to entice animals within reach of his weapons.[277] More\nimportant in this connection is the mania for collecting lustrous\nobjects that has been noticed in the case of ravens, jays, magpies,\njackdaws, goldfinches, chiff-chaffs, sea-pies, etc.[278] It has\nscarcely ever been suggested that the thievish jackdaw is prompted\nby any _\u00e6sthetic_ liking for brilliant plate. But as it shows itself\namongst the atlas birds and the bower birds, this exaggeration of the\nappropriative impulse has been regarded as an indication of artistic\ninclination. It has been contended that these birds not only appreciate\nshining and gorgeous objects, but even understand how to arrange them\naccording to a decorative plan.[279]\n\nNo one will deny that structures, such as, for instance, the gardens\nof the atlas birds, which have been depicted by Beccari, are most\nwonderful specimens of animal industry.[280] But it is undoubtedly\nmisleading to speak of them as artistic. As far as can be judged from\nthe descriptions\u2014which are seldom complete\u2014the arrangement of the\nobjects seems to be quite accidental. Darwin has indeed collected some\nmost eulogistic accounts of the decorative taste of the Australian\nbower bird. But he has also, candidly enough, illustrated them with a\npicture, on which an irregular heap of shells and bones is to be seen\nin front of the bower. And the description he borrows from Mr. Strange\nis yet more significant. To judge from this account, which is further\ncorroborated by the statement of Captain Stokes, the chief interest\nof the birds seems to be not the arranging of their treasures, but\nthe playing with them. It has been noticed that the cock of the great\nbower bird amuses himself by flying to and fro in the bower carrying\na shell in his bill, which he picks up on one side and carries to the\nother.[281] On an anthropomorphic interpretation such a behaviour would\nperhaps indicate a desire of trying some new decorative effect. But it\nseems more natural to assume that brilliant objects, even after they\nhave been stored up in the nest, still exercise their irresistible\nattraction, and thereby tempt the birds to repeated trifling with them.\nIf the supposed redecorations of the gardens be accounted for in this\nmanner, then there is no reason for considering the collecting impulse\nin the Australian birds as anything more than a higher development of\nthe same tendency which shows itself in our common magpies and jackdaws.\n\nBy the Australian instances, however, the general predilection for\nbrilliant objects is brought into connection with the pairing dresses\nof pheasants, peacocks, and humming birds. The small and brilliant\nobjects with which the bower birds play during their pairing season\nremind us irresistibly of the \u201cballs on sockets\u201d and of the ocelli\ndesigns of the colibri.[282] It is true that the pheasants carry on\ntheir tail what the Australian birds keep in their bill. But apart\nfrom this unimportant difference, the display seems to be the same in\nboth cases. In Mr. Strange\u2019s letter it is said that the cock, when\nperforming the exalted antics that precede pairing, \u201cruns to the bower,\npicks up a gaudy feather or a spotted leaf, pours forth some peculiar\nnotes, and runs through the pavilion.\u201d It is not quite clear from this\nwording whether the objects really are exhibited _before_ the hen. But\none may safely assume that she in any case has paid some attention to\nher consort\u2019s performance. She has decidedly not, any more than the\npea-hen, received any sort of \u00e6sthetic impression from the display. But\nthe brilliancy has undoubtedly stimulated her, as it stimulates all\nthe other birds quoted in this connection, in a purely physiological\nway. This action, on the other hand, is sufficiently explained by\nrecent researches on the physiological effects which the contemplation\nof concentrated lustre produces on animal organisms. It is also well\nknown that objects with exactly the same qualities as the ocelli on the\npeacock\u2019s tail play an important part in hypnotic experiments. And the\nprimitive shamans as well as the modern cultivators of \u201ccrystal-gazing\u201d\nare acquainted with the peculiar effects of prolonged gazing on\nglass-balls or the shining surface of water. More familiar still is\nthe fascinating influence exercised by that lustrous little globe, the\nhuman eye.\n\nIn all these various examples the smallness of the object fetters the\nattention, and thereby makes the mind a defenceless prey to the images,\nfeelings, and impulses which for the moment invade it. The lustre, on\nthe other hand, will, to use the language of M. Binet, strengthen the\nintensity of these mental images.[283] There is no reason why these\neffects, which presuppose no sort of intellectual activity, should not\ntake place in animals as well as in man. In the case of the peacock,\ntherefore, the idea \u201cmale\u201d will imprint itself with greater and more\nefficacy upon the mind of the hen when she is exposed on every side to\nthe twinkling eyes on the expanded tail of her mate.\n\nEven in the very cases that have been regarded as the most\nincontestable proofs of a taste for the beautiful, the influence on\nthe hen can thus be explained as one which directly, _i.e._ without\nany \u00e6sthetic mediation, has served the interests of pairing. But it\nmay still be asked, Whence the need of strengthening and intensifying\nthe emotions in the female, which must already have been awakened by\nthe mere presence of the male? This objection, however, is easily met\nby a reference to the psychological aspects of pairing. Throughout\nthe animal kingdom the males have to conquer a resistance from the\nside of the females. This instinctive coyness, the importance of which\nfor the maintenance of the species is incalculable and self-evident,\nconstitutes by itself a sufficient cause for the supposed \u00e6sthetic\ncharacters and activities of the males.[284] It has made it necessary\nfor them to have a stately carriage, which makes them bigger and more\npompous than ever, and to display their bodies in flying tricks, or\ndances and antics,\u2014in a word, to emphasise their sex as energetically\nas possible by colours and tunes and movements. And this necessity has,\nby means of a _natural_ selection, called forth a colouring which is\nnot only easily recognisable from a distance, but which also forces\nitself on the senses when seen at close quarters.\n\nThe \u00e6sthetic judgment of the hen forms the pivot of the whole Darwinian\ntheory. When it has been eliminated, it is therefore quite superfluous\nto controvert the assertion, which Darwin himself would not positively\ndefend, that the performances of the males have originated in an\nartistic endeavour.[285] Once granted an instinctive coyness in the\nhen, which must be overcome by every possible means, one can easily\nunderstand that secondary sexual characters and activities would\ngradually appear in the males. The expressive movements in which\nthey seek to relieve their nervous tension afford a material out of\nwhich natural selection will shape, as the most effective means of\nincitation, the various forms of display, or dance, or song. As is\nwell known, Wallace,[286] Spencer,[287] and Hudson[288] have even\ncontended that emotional pressure, or, as they put it, overflowing\nvitality, by itself constitutes a sufficient explanation of the \u201cBalz.\u201d\nIn the above treatment of the question, which in its main points\naccords with the conclusive researches of Professor Groos, we have\nendeavoured to show that the various sorts of display never could\nhave reached their special and differentiated forms if it had not been\nfor the necessity of overcoming female coyness. But, on the other\nhand, this necessity could never have created out of nothing all these\ncomplicated activities. It is difficult\u2014perhaps even impossible\u2014to\nmake any general assertions about the relative importance of these two\nexplanations.[289] The only point which it is necessary to bring out\nin this connection is that a sort of nuptial performance would have\nappeared amongst the males even independently of its influence upon\nthe hen. The hygienic need of an outburst is one reason, and a very\nstrong one indeed, for such motor manifestations. But it seems also as\nif their purpose ought not to be restricted to this cathartic effect.\nThe \u201clek\u201d of the wood-birds tends no doubt to _increase_ nervous force\nat the same time as it relieves the tension. M. Espinas thinks that the\nmales, when collecting in great numbers during the pairing season, are\nled by an unconscious desire to stimulate their feelings by the view of\nother equally excited fellow-males.[290] Such an unconscious desire of\nenhancing nervous force probably lies also behind the inclination for\nbrilliant objects and the trifling with them in the bowers.[291] That\na sort of artificial stimulation really is necessary may perhaps be\nconcluded from Brehm\u2019s general remark about the sexual life of birds:\n\u201cThe pairing is often repeated, and still more often ineffectually\nattempted.\u201d[292] In a private communication to Groos, Professor\nZiegler, the eminent zoologist, also refers to the increased nervous\nactivity which is necessary for pairing, and the passionate preludes\nwhich precede it in so many animals.[293]\n\nBy these two principles, viz. the necessity of overcoming the\ninstinctive coyness of the hen and that of stimulating the nervous\nsystem of the cock, it is, we believe, possible to account for all the\nsecondary sexual characters and activities which in Darwin\u2019s theory\nnecessitated the hypothesis of an animal \u00e6sthetic. When the directly\nphysiological importance of the nuptial preludes is acknowledged one\ncan also, without appealing to the effects of association, explain\nthe occurrence of a \u201clek\u201d in birds who have already made their choice\nof mate.[294] And, on the other hand, we need not give up any one\nof the general results at which Darwin arrived in his researches.\nAlthough conscious selection on the part of the hen must be denied,\nthe fact that she consents to couple only with the cock who has been\nable to stir her feelings better than any other, constitutes a kind of\nunconscious choice. It may seem unnecessary, therefore, to lay so much\nstress upon the theoretical inappropriateness of Darwin\u2019s language. The\n\u00e6sthetical terms in _The Descent of Man_ could easily be exchanged for\nmore physiological ones without any important alteration in the main\nthesis of the book. And it must even be conceded that, owing to the\nextreme cautiousness which was such a remarkable peculiarity of Darwin,\nthis substitution would not be required in more than a few passages. He\nhimself often speaks of ornamental plumage as a means of \u201cexciting,\u201d or\n\u201ccharming,\u201d or \u201cfascinating\u201d the females;[295] once he even restricts\nhimself to saying that the hens \u201cprefer, or are unconsciously excited\nby, the more beautiful males.\u201d[296] From the biological point of view\nit would therefore be pretentious to claim any importance for this\nreformulation of the Darwinian theory. But, from what must be the\ndominating point of view in this work, it is by no means unnecessary\nto disentangle the confusion between \u00e6sthetic appreciation and\nphysiological stimulation. The \u00e6sthetic corollaries, which are the\nmost important in this connection, will be greatly modified as soon\nas the more physiological interpretation is applied to the various\nmanifestations of animal art.\n\nWhen Darwin chose to endow the hen with an aboriginal \u00e6sthetic judgment\nhe was at once confronted by a difficulty which was perhaps even\ngreater than that of locating the beginnings of art in the animal\nkingdom. The facts compelled him to admit that in some species this\n\u00e6sthetic judgment seemed to be a very bad one indeed.[297] When\nsecondary sexual characters are regarded as signs by which the kind\nand sex of the males are accentuated, this apparent inconsistency is\neasily understood. The harsh cry and the inharmonious colouring of\nthe macaw[298] tell their tale as eloquently and convincingly as any\nof the \u00e6sthetic characters of the other birds. The roaring of the\nbattle bump,[299] the disagreeable miauling of the peacock, and the\nbleating call-note of the greenfinch[300] no doubt cause as great a\npleasure in their respective hens as is ever caused by the song of\nthe nightingale in his mate. That the secondary sexual characters\nof the birds on the whole are so much more beautiful than those of\nthe mammals is not the result of any originally higher standard of\nbeauty with their respective females. The superiority of the birds\nis quite sufficiently accounted for by the peculiar conditions of\ntheir life, which necessitate and call forth graceful shape as well\nas graceful movements. Their gorgeous colouring, on the other hand,\nis undoubtedly\u2014as has been shown above\u2014to some extent at least\nconditioned by the gaudy colouring of the tropical landscape. It must\nbe remarked, moreover, that notwithstanding their undeniable splendour,\nthe dresses of the birds by no means generally fulfil the claims of\ntasteful composition. When appreciating the plumage and the songs of\nthe birds, we usually look upon them as pieces of nature. We admire\nthem as we admire the woods and flowers and every other manifestation\nof nature and life. This attitude must necessarily be given up as soon\nas a conscious tendency is assumed in \u201canimal art.\u201d When we regard the\nsecondary sexual characters in the manner of Darwin\u2014as results of an\n\u00e6sthetic choice\u2014we cannot help missing all the \u00e6sthetic qualities of\nharmony and composition, which are never expected, and therefore never\nmissed, in the objects of nature. If the proper distinction between art\nand nature is maintained, it will be possible to combine an unabated\nadmiration for the marvels of beauty in bird life with a denial of\n\u201canimal art.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XV\n\n                       ART AND SEXUAL SELECTION\n\n\nThe explanation which we have given in the preceding chapter of the\npairing dresses of the birds can of course be equally well applied to\nthe secondary sexual characters of man. And it holds good also, we\nbelieve, with regard to the most primitive _voluntary_ alterations\nin the appearance of either sex. It is true, indeed, that artificial\nembellishments or deformations, the work of the individual himself,\nnever can appeal so strongly to the instincts of the other sex as\nthose alterations which are physiologically connected with sexual\ndevelopment. But when, as is the case with most primitive tribes,\nthe so-called means of attraction have remained almost unchanged\nduring innumerable successive generations, one may safely conclude\nthat the instincts of either sex will gradually grow prompt to react\nwith eminent force upon impressions received from such individuals\nas exhibit these conventional signs of their sex and tribe. Whether\nthe acquired qualities are considered as hereditary, or whether the\nconsistency in the predilections of all the members of the same tribe\nbe explained\u2014in the Weissmannian or the neo-Darwinian way\u2014as a result\nof selection, there will always be found in either sex a sort of\nconstitutional liking for certain fixed qualities in the appearance of\nthe opposite sex. An appearance and a behaviour which, in the ancestors\nof an individual, male or female, have stirred the instinctive life of\nthe opposite sex through generations past by, must needs improve his\nor her chances in courtship. The more a suitor approaches the ideal\nwhich unconsciously, and one may say physiologically, is embodied in\nthe inherited impulses of every female, the more helplessly is she\nexposed to the fascination of his charms. And when, at a certain higher\nstate of development, the males begin to practise a selection between\nrival females, they will undoubtedly be influenced in their choice by\nthe same sort of inherited predilections. And there is no reason why\nthese predilections should be restricted to anatomical qualities\u2014why\nartificial adornments, perhaps even detached gems, which have only\nbeen traditional during some generations, should not influence sexual\npreferences in the same direct way\u2014that is, without any intervention of\nan \u00e6sthetic judgment, as secondary sexual characters proper influence\nthem. This circumstance justifies us in treating the outward physical\nappearance and the conventional means of embellishing it in conjunction\nwith each other. An outward sign, whether natural or artificial, which\nhas often enough been connected with the impression of the other sex\nwill necessarily tend to awaken sexual feelings.\n\nFor such an effect it is of course not indispensable that these signs\nshould have originated in an endeavour to charm the sex. As in the\nforegoing chapter, we have to keep the question of influence upon the\nother sex apart from the question of the positive causes\u2014that is,\nconscious or unconscious motives, which have called forth the various\nsecondary sexual characters and activities. For convenience of\nexposition it is advantageous to begin with the first-mentioned phase\nof the problem.\n\nWithout as yet pronouncing any definite views as to the aims the\npursuit of which has led to the different systems of adornment, we\nmay safely maintain that any conspicuous garments, independently of\ntheir ornamental qualities, which have served to distinguish the adult\nand marriageable individuals from other members of the tribe, have\nbeen of importance as means of attraction. According to the ingenious\nexplanation of Dr. Westermarck, even clothing was originally invented\nnot to conceal nudity, but to set it off.[301] There is room, as will\nbe shown later on, for objecting to any definite statement with regard\nto a question such as this, the answer to which is to be sought for\nin several directions at once. But there can be no doubt about the\nfact that the simplest dresses, and especially those which have been\ninterpreted as indicating a sense of modesty, practically accentuate\nthe things they technically conceal. At a stage of development where\nnudity is the normal state, veiling must necessarily suggest the same\nemotions as unveiling in a civilised society. As Dr. Westermarck\nhas been able to show, dresses are adopted by a majority of tribes\non the attainment of puberty and on the occasions of great feasts;\nit is therefore natural that they should act as powerful sexual\nincitements.[302] And this view receives additional support from the\narguments of its opponents. The large collection of facts that Dr.\nSchurtz has quoted in proof of his assertion that clothing originally\naimed at \u201cthe concealment of sexual differences\u201d may of course be\ninterpreted with equal and, we believe, with greater probability in\nthe inverse sense.[303] One has only to look, for example, at some of\nthe richly-embroidered cinctures of the Guiana natives in order to\nunderstand that these coverings, whatever may have been their original\npurpose, can never have acted as an effective means of diverting the\nattention.\n\nThe differences between the sexes will, however, be emphasised not\nonly by the special garments for which Dr. Schurtz proposes the\nabove-mentioned explanation, but also by every article of dress or\nornament. For the intellectualistically prejudiced observer it is\nundoubtedly most natural to consider the various kinds of fixed or\ndetached ornament, such as paintings and tattooings, ribbons, laces,\ncollars, and so on, as means of influencing an \u00e6sthetic sense in the\nspectator. But it is evidently more in accordance with the principles\nof comparative psychology to assume that all these garnitures\noriginally had their main significance not as beautifying things or\nas things of beauty themselves, but as marks by which the personality\nof the decorated man or woman was distinguished. To illustrate this\nargument it is not necessary to go back to the primitive stages. Even\namong civilised men, gems and jewels, when seen on a member of the\nopposite sex, have chiefly a symbolic value. In the string of pearls\nwhich encircles a woman\u2019s neck, or in the gay feather of a man\u2019s hat,\nthe charm and fascination of a whole human being are concentrated to\na single focus. To the lover\u2019s attention everything that has some\nconnection with the beloved shines with a borrowed light. We all know\nthat handkerchiefs and shoes can be adored with an almost fetichistic\ndevotion. All the more must a gem which is conspicuously carried on\nthe body be able to imbibe and exhale the charms of its wearer. The\nlyrical poetry of all ages is there to prove the emotional value which\ncan thus be attached to lifeless things. And the psychology of the\nemotions in its turn gives a simple explanation of the fact that loving\nimagination always dwells with predilection upon some single part of\nthe attire of the beloved. A small and conspicuous object which can\neasily be embraced by the senses affords a vehicle which can carry into\nthe mind the whole complex of feelings and impulses that are attached\nto the notion of the beloved. Well knowing this law of emotional\nmechanics, an intelligent woman who is anxious to please does not cover\nherself with jewels and ornaments. She prefers some single brilliant\ngem, which does not so much call for admiration itself, as draw\nattention to her charms and heighten the impression which they produce.\n\nIt may seem very far-fetched to explain the primitive means of\nattraction by reference to the art of pleasing among modern men. But\nhowever much the forms of courtship may have been changed by higher\ndevelopment, their psychological basis is still the same at all stages\nof culture. There is no need, as far as purely erotic purposes are\nconcerned, to embellish the appearance; what is wanted is only to\nenable the appearance itself to produce its most effectual impression.\nWhen this point is kept in mind, it is easily understood that ornaments\nsuch as a simple piece of glass in the hair or a band of shells twisted\naround the neck can be as charming in the eyes of primitive man as any\nof the gems that are used among civilised nations. And there is no\nreason to doubt that the savage beaux and belles really have increased\ntheir chances by putting wooden slabs in their lips and ears, or pins\nof bone through their nose.\n\nIn the last-mentioned cases the effect has, moreover, been strengthened\nby the appearance of strangeness that is given to the face by deforming\nadornments. Eyes that might pass by with indifference an accustomed\nimpression, are unavoidably arrested by any extraordinary character.\nAs amongst the birds and mammals, horns, accrescences, and gorgeous\nplumage, independently of their possible \u00e6sthetic qualities, assist\nthe males in courting the females, so also amongst men any means of\ncorrecting the normal appearance, be it through flattening the head,\nfilling, extracting, or blackening the teeth, elongating the ears or\ncompressing the waist, will, in virtue only of its singularity, act\nas an effectual instrument of charming.[304] For the marriageable\nindividual it has evidently been advantageous to be distinguished by\nthese extravagant transformations, which, as is well known, are usually\ninflicted at the very time of puberty. And, on the other hand, among\nindividuals so distinguished, those who extort an interest for their\nperson by the most singular qualities ought to have an increased chance\nof charming the opposite sex. In the discussion of sexual preferences\nthere has been much talk of a supposed constitutional predilection\nfor novelty and variation. But it is undoubtedly more in accordance\nwith the strictly psychological position to doubt whether, in the\nprimitive stages, novelty really has been appreciated for its own\nsake, or whether it is only by facilitating the attention, and thereby\nintensifying the impression, that it has gained the favour of the\nopposite sex for one particular male or female.\n\nWhichever formula may be preferred in the interpretation, it remains\nas an indisputable fact that even in some of the higher animals an\nexceptional appearance gives an advantage in courtship. It is needless\nto point out to how great an extent in civilised communities man is\ninfluenced in sexual preference by a bias for a peculiar appearance\nwhich distinguishes the chosen one from any other man or woman. This\npredilection, however, is always neutralised by a repugnance for\neverything that deviates too much from the common characteristics of\nthe group. The two principles which have regulated the development\nof secondary sexual characters\u2014to wit, the necessity of marks for\naccentuating sex-distinction and that of tribal signs\u2014are thus\nbrought into conflict with each other. This conflict is particularly\nconspicuous in the lower stages of development. Owing to the peculiar\nconditions of life which prevail here, the second principle will\ngenerally be of especial importance among the savage tribes of mankind.\n\nThe observation has often been made that too great uniformity of\nwork impedes the development of individual characters in physical\nappearance. In savage communities, where the division of labour is\nalmost unknown, all men must necessarily be more or less like one\nanother.[305] Especially if the home of the tribe be some closely\ndefined area of uniform climatic conditions, there will be within\nthe tribe almost no material for selection. Where endogamic marriage\nprevails, the conception \u201clover,\u201d which is transmitted from mother to\ndaughter, and which, by \u201cobjective heredity,\u201d becomes imprinted on\nthe mind of every girl that grows up in this narrow _milieu_, must\ntherefore be one with a very restricted content. Alongside of this\nincreasing predilection for a fixed and narrowly circumscribed type\nof the opposite sex there will, as its complementary feeling, develop\na strong antipathy to every feature that diverges from this type. For\nthe evolution of national ideals this negative influence has been of\nperhaps even greater importance than the positive preferences.\n\nIt is evident that strictly endogamous marriage customs could never\nbe upheld in tribes which have any intercourse with their neighbours\nif the social institution were not supported by a real psychological\naversion to outsiders. It has therefore been congruous with the\nadvantages of society to promote in the youth the feeling that any man\nor woman outside the tribe is a being with whom no emotional exchange\nis to be thought of. To make this feeling possible, on the other hand,\nit is necessary that everything which is connected with the foreigner\nshould be held up to contempt. Their dress, their language, their\nmanners, and so on, have thus been considered as something to be kept\nat a distance. It is needless to point out that marriage systems are\nnot alone responsible for the development of this feeling. Religious\ndifferences, so important in primitive communities, have undoubtedly\noften given rise to the common notion that people outside one\u2019s own\ntribe do not, properly speaking, belong to the human species. Continual\nwar induces a feeling of contempt, which in the stronger tribe is\nmingled with pride and in the weaker with bitterness, and which in\nboth cases extends to the smallest details of physical appearance and\nbehaviour. And apart from all regard to these social causes, the\nprimitive man, in civilised as well as in savage nations, is always apt\nto look upon everything unusual with a feeling of scornful disdain. No\ndoubt such a disdain can even be coincident with exogamous marriage\ncustoms. But it seems evident that it must everywhere have strongly\ninfluenced sexual selection during those unknown endogamic periods in\nwhich the racial and tribal differences were developed and fixed.[306]\nAnd it may even now be observed among living tribes of man to how\ngreat a degree antipathy to every detail in the outward appearance of\nforeigners precludes union between members of different tribes. The\nnational and parochial dresses of modern peasants no doubt exercise\na great influence on the love-life of the respective boys and girls.\nThe most telling example that could be quoted in this connection is\nthe case of Savakot and \u00c4yr\u00e4m\u00e4iset in Eastern Finland. When examining\na Savakko youth as to the reason why none of his tribe had ever\nchosen a wife from among their neighbours, Ahlqvist[307] received the\ncharacteristic answer: \u201cSe kuin on heill\u00e4 \u00c4yr\u00e4m\u00e4isill\u00e4 niin hirve\u00e4\nvaatteen manieri niin siihen ei meid\u00e4n pojat uskalla puuttua\u201d\u2014that is,\nAs these \u00c4yr\u00e4m\u00e4 girls have such horrid dresses, our boys do not dare to\napproach them.\n\nThis instance, although it is one of modern times and refers to\nrelatively civilised individuals, can no doubt be considered as\nillustrative with regard to the distinguishing marks and dresses of\nprimitive men. The outward signs of the tribe not only exercise a\nstrong attraction upon all its members; they are also for outsiders\nassociated with a repugnance which is perhaps equally strong. In\nthe same way as it has been advantageous for the young of both\nsexes to have an appearance which appeals as powerfully as possible\nto the instinctive predilections of the opposite sex, it has been\nnecessary for them not to exhibit qualities which could be confounded\nwith those of the alien. The individual who endeavours to attract\nattention for his person by a conspicuous and extravagant appearance\nis, therefore, narrowly restricted within the boundaries prescribed by\ntribal sympathies and antipathies. The safest expedient by which to\ndistinguish himself from others without outraging the national idea is,\ntherefore, that of exaggerating the common characteristics of the tribe.\n\nThese theoretical reasonings can be amply corroborated by ethnological\nfacts. As early as 1814 Humboldt observed and commented upon the\nfact that the deformations which appear most arbitrary generally\nonly tend to carry into excess some natural peculiarity of the\ntribe.[308] And since his time, numerous instances have been adduced\nin the ethnological literature, all pointing in the same direction.\nIn the case of people who blacken their teeth it has been remarked\nthat the dental enamel is naturally darker than usual; where heads\nare artificially deformed, it is found that there exists a general\ndisposition to develop pointed or flat crania; where the hair-growth\nis scanty, baldness is artificially produced; and so forth.[309] By\nexaggerating and accentuating in their own appearance the common\nqualities of the tribe, the individual males or females have thus\ncreated a more and more differentiated tribal type. And the inherited\npredilections and aversions of the opposite sex have, on the other\nhand, by continuously influencing positive and negative choice,\ncontributed to the fixing of these types as tribal ideals, not of\nbeauty, but of sexual attractiveness.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XVI\n\n                    THE ORIGINS OF SELF-DECORATION\n\n\nIt is evident, as might be proved by more numerous and detailed\nreferences than it has been possible to adduce above, that precisely\nsuch bodily deformations, such systems of distinguishing ornament,\nand such conspicuous articles of clothing and decoration as are\nmost generally found among both the primitive and the cultivated\ntribes of mankind have been of especial importance as means of\nsexual attraction. Nothing could be more natural, therefore, than\nto explain the various forms of cosmetics as so many endeavours to\nwork upon the preferences\u2014whether arising from the \u00e6sthetic sense or\nfrom associated ideas of sexual excitement\u2014of the opposite sex. Such\nan explanation, moreover, derives support from the assertion of the\nprimitives themselves, who often positively state that they dress and\narray themselves for the purpose of winning the love of their women.\nAnd it has on its side the merits of simplicity and unity. By bringing\ntogether under one head all the different forms of self-decorative art\nit disentangles the different questions of primitive \u00e6sthetics in a\nmost plausible manner.\n\nHowever alluring this uniform explanation may be for lovers of\nclearness and theoretical consistency, it must nevertheless be\nabandoned upon an impartial examination of the ethnological facts.\nIt is no doubt conceivable that a more or less conscious desire of\nacquiring the favour of the opposite sex should have called forth\nall the various means of attraction. As was shown above, they could\nin such a case have scarcely developed a more effectual conformation\nthan they really have done. But from the effect we are not entitled\nto draw any conclusion as to the intention. When considering all the\nvarious motives, often almost incomprehensible to the civilised mind,\nwhich govern the activities of primitive man, one loses the confidence\nthat is necessary in order to accept any general explanation, however\nprobable it may seem. A careful and impartial examination can only lead\nto the result that scarcely any form of dress or ornament can be quoted\nwhich could be considered with certainty as an outcome of the impulse\nto attract and charm the opposite sex.\n\nTo begin with the class which stands in the closest connection with\nsexual life, we have already shown that all the various coverings by\nwhich primitive man conceals his nakedness, by attracting the attention\nare likely to produce a sort of sexual stimulation in the primitive\nspectator.[310] In some cases,\u2014for instance that of the dancing\ngirdles, which are especially put on for the occasion of erotic dances\nand festivals,\u2014this stimulation is evidently intentional.[311] But it\nseems impossible to assume that a knowledge of this effect can have\nbeen the motive for the use of those phallocrypts which are worn by\nthe Amaxosas in South Africa, by the natives of Central Brazil, by\nthe Melanesians in the Admiralty Islands and on the north-western\nand south-western coasts of New Guinea, by the Australians of\nnorth-western Central Queensland, and by the Polynesians of the\nMarquesas Islands.[312] As far as we know, it is only in Australia\nthat these things are especially employed at corroborees and public\nrejoicings.[313] Nor is there anything that could attract the eye\nin all the simple bamboo sheets that can be seen at the Museum f\u00fcr\nV\u00f6lkerkunde in Berlin. In some cases they have perhaps been worn for\nthe purely practical purpose of protecting a sensitive part against\ninsect bites.[314] But it seems more probable, on an examination of\ntheir shape, that they really are intended as means of concealment in\nthe proper meaning of the word. There is of course no reason why they\nshould not be considered as fulfilling the requirements of modesty.\nBut even if such be their purpose now, it is difficult to assume that\nthey were originally called into existence by a feeling which, from the\nevolutionist point of view, one rather would consider as a product of\nclothes than as their cause.[315]\n\nThis difficulty, however, is easily avoided by reference to another\nfeeling which in psychical evolution has probably preceded the\nappearance of modesty. It is perhaps impossible to decide at what\nstage sexual life began to be surrounded with feelings of shame,\u2014in\nother words, in what instances one is entitled to speak of modesty\nand conscious chastity. But there is no doubt that even among the\nlowest savages the facts of generation are regarded with a wonder\nwhich sometimes approaches awe, and sometimes rises to religious\nrespect.[316] Since at a somewhat higher degree of development phallic\nsymbols occupy so dominant a place in religious systems, it is only\nnatural to suppose that the realities represented by these symbols\nhave been regarded by the primitive with superstitious feelings. It is\nprobable, therefore, that there are many primitive tribes which, in the\nsame way as the aborigines of the New Hebrides, cover themselves in the\nmost scrupulous manner, \u201cnot at all from a sense of decency, but to\navoid Narak, _i.e._ magic influence,\u201d the sight even of another man\u2019s\nnakedness being considered as most dangerous.[317] The large prevalence\nof phallic motives in amulets and magically protecting paintings,[318]\nthe supposed effective sorcery of indecent gestures, so widely used\neven now by the modern Italians,[319] indicate that the organs of\ngeneration have been universally considered as the seat of a powerful\nand dangerous magic. Perhaps this superstitious idea has even been\nthe original source of the notion that exposure involves the gravest\noffence against the honour of the beholder.[320] Sometimes, on the\nother hand, dread of this supposed mysterious power may have prompted\nthe evolution of moral institutions, and thus indirectly furthered\nthe moral feelings. But it is evident that even before any such\ntransformation took place regard for public safety may have induced the\nmales to conceal the seat of so dangerous an influence.\n\nThe reproductive organs, however, are not only, in virtue of\ntheir connection with the mysterious miracle of life, objects of\nsuperstitious awe: they themselves, owing to the same consideration,\nneed more than anything else to be protected against dangerous\ninfluences. Fear of the evil eye has thus, as Ratzel suggests, had\nsomething to do with the origin of male and female dress.[321] And the\nnotion of malignant looks is only one of the superstitions that keep\nthe savage man in a state of constant fear. All the innumerable spirits\nthat populate his atmosphere constitute so many dangers, against which\nhe has to protect himself by every possible means. This necessity is\nprobably even greater for the female sex than for the men.\n\nIn Messrs. Spencer and Gillen\u2019s work on Australia there is one passage\nwhich suggests another possible cause for the origin of female dress.\nWhen speaking about the souls of ancestors, which, for the purpose of\nreincarnation, try to find a way to the bodies of young women, the\nauthors say that \u201cspirit children are also supposed to be especially\nfond of travelling in whirlwinds, and on seeing one of these, which\nare very frequent at certain times of the year, approaching her a\nwoman will at once run away.\u201d[322] Now, this notion that the wind\nis capable of bringing about impregnation is by no means confined\nto the Australian aborigines. Mr. Hartland has been able to adduce\ntestimonies of its occurrence not only in savage tribes, but also among\nthe Romans of Virgil\u2019s time.[323] And the Hottentots have an almost\nsimilar superstition, viz. that a pouring rain, when falling on the\nnaked body, promotes conception.[324] The belief in the fertilising\npowers of sunshine, well known from European folklore and frequently\nillustrated in literature, from the Dana\u00eb legends upwards to the\nmysterious warnings of Hamlet to Ophelia, can of course be quoted as\nindications of the same universal \u201cfolk-belief.\u201d[325] It would only be\nnatural if the women, who so anxiously try to escape from the dangers\nof fecundation that surround them on all sides in the atmosphere, had\nfound out the simple expedient of protecting themselves by clothing.\n\nWe cannot, of course, positively assert that the wearing of clothes was\noriginally due to superstitious reasons. We have only wished to point\nout that such an hypothesis can be proposed and consistently defended.\nIt accounts not only for the especial character of the simplest\ndresses, but also, which is more important, for the fact of their being\nadopted only when sexual maturity is reached.\n\nThere are other reasons, moreover, why this last-mentioned\ncircumstance, which apparently affords so strong support to the\ntheory of Darwin and his followers, cannot be adduced as decisively\nsolving the problem of purely decorative garments. In laying so great a\nstress upon the time of life when the body is decorated for the first\ntime,[326] the advocates of the theory of erotic propitiation seem\nto have overlooked that almost everywhere sexual maturity coincides\nwith civic majority. There is thus something to be said for the view\nthat tattooing, feather-dresses, and so on, are conferred upon young\nmen and women as outward signs of their changed status. And similarly\nall ulterior decorations can be explained as indications of later\nacquired rank. In ethnological literature, especially in German works,\na great body of facts has been produced which speak in favour of such\nan analogy between primitive ornaments and modern signs of rank and\nmerit.[327] By relying on this interpretation too we may often explain,\nwithout any reference to the advantages of courtship, the fact that\nin primitive races men are generally more decorated than women. An\nextreme Darwinist may perhaps object that the proportion between the\nornaments of the sexes has been inverted since the male sex began\nto practise selection. But it is to be remembered that even now in\nthe classes for which rank distinctions are most important, viz. in\nmilitary and diplomatic circles, men generally are more gorgeously\narrayed than women.[328] And it may further be adduced as an exception\nwhich proves the rule that on Pelew and Ponape Islands, where mothers\ngive children their rank, women are richly tattooed.[329]\n\nIt cannot of course be contended that man at the lowest stages of\nculture could have intentionally created a fixed system of signs for\ndenoting rank and merit. Anything of that kind presupposes a social\ndifferentiation which has not yet been arrived at by all savage tribes.\nIn thus substituting distinction-marks for the means of attraction one\nmight therefore apparently be exposed to the reproof of preferring the\ncomplex to the simple. Such a criticism must, however, lose its force\nwhen applied to the theories which try to trace the development of\ndistinctive marks back to their most simple and primitive sources. Von\nden Steinen, in whose work these questions are subjected to a detailed\nstudy, has, with special reference to the Xingu tribes in the interior\nof Brazil, succeeded in amply corroborating the theory of Spencer\nthat the simplest ornaments have been trophies of war and chase. In\nthe feather crowns of the chiefs, for example, we may thus see only\na later development of proudly arranged spoils of chase, by which a\nsuccessful hunter proclaims his achievements.[330] And the incised\nscars so common among savage tribes can, in accordance with the same\ningenious explanation, be considered as imitations of the glorious\nwounds with which eminent warriors have been adorned when returning\nfrom battle.[331]\n\nIn the cases where this interpretation holds true the chief aim of\nthe decoration is, of course, not to make the man more beautiful and\ncharming, but only to show off his skill and courage, and thus to\ninspire respect and fear. It is needless to point out that in times\nof war such decorations must be of eminent advantage by inspiring\ntheir wearer with pride at the same time that they strike his enemies\nwith terror. But boasting adornments are by no means restricted to\nmilitary purposes. Many apparently ornamental scars and tattooings are\nprobably worn as proud traces of heroic feats performed at initiations\nor funeral ceremonies.[332] And, to quote instances of less lofty\npride, there is no end to the cases in which gems are worn chiefly for\nproducing an impression of wealth.[333] It would be absurd to suppose\nthat this show of valour or wealth must always be addressed to women.\nThe impulse to ostentation has thus undeniably, independent of sexual\nselection, aided in the origin of self-decoration.\n\nIt is not necessary for the present purpose to submit to a close\nanalysis all the other theories of bodily embellishment which oppose an\nunrestricted application of the Darwinian interpretation. Suffice it\nto say that facts exist which support almost every one of these views.\nThus it seems quite unquestionable that tattooings often serve as a\nmeans of conveying intellectual information.[334] Not only are exploits\nof valour which provide an occasion for boasting ornament registered by\nincisions on the body, but this primitive record may also be used in\norder to commemorate other events that have made a great impression on\nthe individual in question.\n\nThe most instructive example of such essentially commemorative\nself-decoration that is known in ethnological literature is no doubt\nthe tattooing of Tepane, the native of the Eastern Island whom Dr.\nStolpe met in Tahiti. On his right fore-arm this highly interesting\nindividual wore a pattern which, although insignificant at first\nsight, on closer examination showed itself to be nothing less than\na pictorial description of the memorable event when the great stone\nidols, now outside the British Museum, were hauled down from their\noriginal place to the British ship which was going to take them over\nsea. Among the figures on this little historical picture Tepane himself\nwas able to point out the first and second officer of the _Topaz_,\nwho, standing somewhat apart, watched the work of the sailors.[335] It\nis indeed exceptional to meet with such complete realistic drawings\namong the \u201cmotives\u201d of tattoo. But there is no doubt that by symbolical\nrepresentation sights and events have often been recorded on the body,\nthis most primitive of all commonplace-books.\n\nThere is no default of instances showing that decoration, fixed as well\nas detached, has been largely used as a magical protection against\nillness, bewitching, or evil eye.[336] This superstitious intention\nappears with unmistakable evidence in the decorations of the Xingu\ntribes of the interior Brazil, where children and pregnant women,\n_i.e._ persons who particularly need to be guarded against malignant\ninfluences, are richly decorated with collars of beads, teeth, bones,\nand so on.[337] Among these Indians Professor von den Steinen was also\nable to find some typical examples of the process, which has been\nobserved in several other tribes, by which a cosmetic painting of\nthe body is developed from a purely practical greasing with earth or\nfat, executed in order to preserve the skin against weather or insect\nbites.[338]\n\nPerhaps more important still than any of the above-mentioned motives\nis the one to which Herr Lippert has called attention.[339] In a\nnation where, owing to the undeveloped division of labour, all people\nnecessarily become more or less like each other, the individual must,\nhe thinks, feel a strong desire to develop a fixed ego, a personality\napart, which can be distinguished from all his fellows. This craving\nmay perhaps, as Lippert thinks, have something to do with the growth\nof a philosophical consciousness. But it may also be considered from\na purely practical point of view. In the same way as ornaments on\nweapons and implements often serve as owners\u2019 marks,[340] so the\nornaments on the body may serve as means of identifying, for social\nand political purposes, the man who is decorated with them. The\nMoko patterns of the Maoris, for instance, have in fact been used\nas legally recognised marks, and copies of them applied, instead of\nsignatures, to documents.[341] Whether the utilitarian or the more\nphilosophic explanation be preferred, it is evident that, even if there\nhad been no necessity to attract the attention of the opposite sex,\nthe impulse to create an appearance which is at least to some degree\npersonal would have led to the different systems of embellishment.\nThus among people who wear clothes any details in dresses and gems\nwould be made distinctive; where the naked body is lightly coloured,\nso as to make tattooing conspicuous, distinguishing patterns would\nbe incised; among darker nations, on the other hand, simple scars\nwould be cut; and finally, in the blackest tribes, on whose skin not\neven scars stand out, modes of hair-dressing would afford a last\nexpedient for differentiation. And it is evident that tribes in their\nintercourse with each other would be led by the same considerations as\nindividuals.[342] Even in a fictitious unisexual mankind there might\nthus have appeared precisely the same kind of common and fixed signs\nby which tribes are differentiated from each other, and of individual\nsigns by which members of the same tribe are distinguished by\nvariations from the common type. These signs must necessarily, as was\nshown in the foregoing, exercise a powerful influence on the opposite\nsex, and their development may therefore have been to some extent\nfurthered by sexual selection. But it seems impossible to contend that\nthey have been invented only for the purposes of courtship.[343]\n\nWe have deemed it superfluous to report in this connection all\nthe instances which show that among sundry tribes of mankind\nself-decoration is executed especially with a view of pleasing. For\ncopious collections of such facts it is sufficient to refer to the\nworks of Westermarck and Joest. Other interesting instances have later\nbeen communicated by Finsch, Stirling, Stoke, and others.[344] While\nnecessarily sceptical with regard to theories on sexual preference as\na universal, art-creating influence, we have of course no reason to\ndoubt the accuracy of individual statements. From the point of view of\nthe present research we have only to emphasise the fact that there is\nno possibility of deciding with any certainty in how great a degree\nconsiderations for the favour of the opposite sex have influenced the\ndevelopment of self-decoration.\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XVII\n\n                              EROTIC ART\n\n\nWhen from the discouraging examination of decorative arts as connected\nwith sexual selection we turn our attention to the department of poetry\nand drama, we reasonably expect to attain some less ambiguous results.\nIn every work of literary art one should think that the subject ought\nto afford some indication as to its purpose. The dances, songs, and\npantomimes of the lower tribes are, however, in this respect not very\ninstructive. No doubt there can be quoted a great number of artistic\nmanifestations in which love is represented or described in all its\nphases. But we are not thereby justified in assuming that these dramas,\npantomimes, and poems were called into existence by the preferences of\nthe other sex. It would be absurd to adduce the pornographic art of\nmodern times as proof of sexual selection. And it is equally absurd\nto cite in favour of Darwin\u2019s thesis travellers\u2019 tales of indecent\ndances or ceremonies in which no mention is made of the presence of the\nopposite sex.\n\nOn the other hand, it must be conceded that the influence of sex on the\nevolution of art cannot, as Mr. Spencer seems to think, be completely\ndisproved by an appeal to the mere fact that erotic motives occupy so\ninsignificant a space in the most primitive art.[345] Even if there\nwere any certainty that the existing dearth of information on erotic\ndances and poems corresponds with a real lack of erotic art, it might\nstill be maintained that the favour of the other sex was the aim of all\nthe purely lyrical kinds of music and dance. And the analogy with our\nown stage of culture might be adduced as a witness that activities and\nmanifestations which in their original purpose are anything but erotic\nmay still be used as effective means of courtship. War dances, for\nexample, in which all the qualities of the male body are displayed must\nof course be eminently capable of charming the opposite sex. Although\nundoubtedly called into existence by the need of military exercise and\nwarlike stimulation, this kind of dramatic art may therefore have been\nassisted in its development by the encouraging influence of female\nspectators.[346] In which cases such an influence has operated, and\nhow great have been its effects, can only be determined by a close\nexamination not only of the works of art themselves, but also, and\nchiefly, of the circumstances connected with the performance of them.\nAs poetry and drama on primitive stages generally have reference to a\nparticular occasion, these circumstances ought to appear with greater\nclearness than in the case of pictorial arts.\n\nFor the purposes of this research there is, however, a great deficiency\nof reliable information. In the descriptions of dances and pantomimes\nwhich can be gathered from the literature of travel the most important\npoint is generally omitted\u2014whether the performances in question\nwere executed in the presence of the other sex or not. From the\ngeneral records of savage life one may indeed draw some conclusions\nbearing upon this question. But these conclusions, even when, taken\napart, they seem to be sufficiently reliable, are, when considered\ncollectively, full of contradiction. With regard to a great number\nof tribes the strict separation between the sexes which prevails in\nall phases of social life\u2014in work as well as in amusements\u2014provides a\nnegative argument against the theory of female influence on art. This\ncircumstance has of course been adduced by opponents of the selection\ntheory; and it was Mr. Gurney\u2019s chief objection to Wagner\u2019s assertion\nthat the earliest popular dances were erotic pantomimes.[347] But\nthe adherents of Darwin\u2019s theory are no less able to support their\nassertion by ethnological facts. This is made obvious, for instance,\nby Wallaschek\u2019s _Primitive Music_, which work, as far as we know,\ngives the most complete account existent of primitive dances and\npantomimes. After having enumerated a great variety of tribes in which\nthe sexes are separated when dancing, the author says, \u201cAs a rule,\nhowever, both sexes dance together.\u201d And he then corroborates this\nstatement by a still greater number of instances in which dances, often\nof a decidedly erotic character, are performed either by both sexes\ntogether or by one sex before the other.[348] Thus facts confront\nfacts in a most bewildering contradiction which is indeed trying to\nthe believer in ethnological argumentation. No sound statistician\nwould base any conclusions on majorities made up of such confused\nmasses of contradictory instances. The question of sex influence on art\nwould therefore be for ever undecided if there were no expedient for\nclassifying the units and balancing them against each other in greater\ngroups.\n\nSuch a classification is of course no less possible than it is\nnecessary. But it presupposes a close examination of every single\ninstance quoted. Owing to our insufficient knowledge of some of the\nmost interesting tribes, a satisfactory arrangement is therefore as\nyet involved in great difficulty. In this work, at any rate, it would\nnot be possible to enter into all these detailed researches. We shall\nrestrict ourselves to a few short indications of the mode in which we\nthink that this much-debated question is to be solved.\n\nIn all that has been written against Darwin\u2019s _Descent of Man_ there is\nperhaps nothing that is so relevant to the main issue as Mr. Hudson\u2019s\ncriticism. He observes that Darwin has gathered together from all\nregions of the globe unconnected facts about various species without\nclosely examining the habits and actions of these species.[349] It\ngoes without saying that such an examination would be extremely\ndifficult with regard to animals, the social life of which is as yet\nso insufficiently known. For one not a zoologist, at least, it would\nbe too audacious to present any classification of the instances, and\ntherefore we did not even mention this possibility in the treatment\nof animal art. In this connection, however, one may suggest, without\npositively asserting, that perhaps even the animal manifestations of\ndance and music may be classified in groups which correspond to the\nprevailing social conditions of the respective species. There is at\nleast a striking similarity between the types of song, serene with\nall their passion, with which the males of the monogamous songsters\nentertain their mates\u2014those mates which, if one may believe the\nbrothers M\u00fcller, have been chosen even before the pairing season.[350]\nAnd, on the other hand, these graceful and harmonious utterances stand\nin the strongest contrast to the vehement display of promiscuous\nwood-birds and polygamous fowl.\n\nHowever presumptuous it may be to draw any general conclusions from\nthese coincidences, it is evidently indispensable, when treating of\nsexual selection in man, to look for some connection between the\nvarious forms of courtship and prevailing social institutions. This\nnecessity was fully understood by Darwin himself.[351] But it has\nbeen too much overlooked by his successors, who, when discussing his\nthesis, have defended or attacked it by promiscuous collections of\nfacts in which barbaric Malays and degenerate Polynesians are quoted\nalongside primitives like the Veddas and Fuegians. If this confusion\nis disentangled by a proper arrangement of the instances according\nto stages of culture, the seeming inconsistency of the ethnological\nevidence will be removed.\n\nThere is a _prima facie_ ground for believing that the employment of\nart for gaining the favour of the other sex is characteristic of a\ncertain advance in social development. The tribes in which we have most\nreason to suppose that the practice of self-decoration does not rest\non political or religious grounds, and may thus aim exclusively at\npleasing, are to be found among the Polynesians, the Malays, and some\nof the nations of India. From Polynesia also Berchon derived his chief\nsupport for the curious assertion\u2014which seems to be true of scarcely\nany other ethnological province\u2014that the patterns used in tattooing are\nquite indifferent, provided only that they effectually embellish the\ndecorated part of the body;[352] in short, that tattooing has a purely\ndecorative purpose. With regard to dancing, there also is practised in\nTahiti, by the dramatic society of the Areoi, a dance most typical of\nthe kind which aims at an erotic excitement in the spectators.[353]\n\nAs is well known, the \u201coriental\u201d dancing, such as is performed in the\nbarbaric Negro states and in the Mohammedan communities of Northern\nAfrica, as well as in Persia, Turkey, China, and Japan, is mainly a\ngross pantomime of physical love executed by a woman to the delight of\nher male spectators.[354] In most of these cases, however, the dancers\nare outcast women, who are paid with money for their performance.\n\nSomewhat closer, it seems, is the connection between erotic dance\nand sexual selection in the native population of the East Indian\nIslands.[355] And finally, among the aboriginal tribes of India, the\nMundaris, Rasas, Kolhs, Sonthals, Bhuiyas, Chukmas, and Khyoungthas,\ncourtship is pervaded by art and \u00e6sthetic activities.[356] In some of\nthe villages there still survives the same kind of romantic love-making\nwhich is so well known from the old Indian poems and tales. The\nBhuiya youths pay visits to the camp of the girls, and are received\nby them with dances and songs; and, says Mr. Dalton, \u201cafter such\ndaylong festivals the morning dawns on more than one pair of pledged\nlovers.\u201d[357] In the Bayar tribe one of the \u201cmethods of bringing about\nmarriage\u201d is a dance, performed by both sexes, who face each other in\nrows and exchange impromptu love couplets. Similar festivals are also\nmet with among the Bendkars and Khonds.[358] The Hos and Mundaris, on\nthe other hand, afford an example of sexual selection in its grossest\nform at their yearly festivals, during which excited dionysiac\ndances and obscene and blasphemous speeches are connected with wild\npromiscuous orgies.[359]\n\nIn the improvised ditties that are sung during these dances Darwin\nwould, of course, have found the most convincing proofs of the\napplicability of his theory to poetry. Among love-inspired songs\nfew specimens can be found which are so genuine, and at the same\ntime so full of delicate feeling, as the harvest antiphonies sung by\nthe Khyoungtha boys and girls.[360] How high an opinion of the power\nin poetry to charm is held by these tribes can be judged from the\nfact that the Chukmas never allow any songs but those of a religious\ncharacter to be sung in their villages. Our girls would be demoralised,\nthey say, if boys were allowed to sing freely. When living in the\njungle, however, where the rules of morality are laxer, the Chukmas\nallow their poetry greater license.[361]\n\nIt is needless to say that some kind of erotic poetry is generally to\nbe found in all the tribes where dancing expresses love. There have\nbeen translated some exquisite samples of erotic songs composed by the\nMalay tribes of Java and Sumatra. In some instances it is quite evident\nthat these songs have been used as means of winning the favour of the\nwomen. In other cases, however, it seems safest to draw no conclusions\nas to their purpose. At any rate, love occupies an important place in\nthe poetry which has been collected in Malaysia, not only among the\nMalays proper, but also among the Tagals, Alfuras, Battaks, etc.[362]\n\nIn some of their dancing songs the Australian aboriginal poets are said\nto describe the charms of their sweethearts.[363] But we know of no\npoems in which they appear to be directly addressed. Neither have we\nfound any decisive statement as to the character of the erotic poetry\nin Tahiti and New Zealand.[364]\n\nPurer and more unmistakable examples of singing used as a means of\nerotic propitiation can be adduced from some of the American nations.\nThe Iroquois, for whom dancing festivals are of great importance\nin the intercourse between the sexes, are well aware of the powers\nof a serenade when they wish to entice a girl from her hut to a\nmeeting.[365] In old Mexico and Peru, where erotic poetry had reached\na high degree of refinement, songs and music were undoubtedly used in\ncourtship.[366] But with these barbaric but not savage peoples we have\nalready left primitive man far behind.\n\nIt is undeniable that increased knowledge of the various tribes of\nmankind may necessitate important corrections in the above review\nof erotic art. There might be collected, for instance, specimens of\nlove-inspired poetry from the really primitive tribes, such as the\nVeddas, the Fuegians, etc. Perhaps also it may be proved that dancing\nand singing really serve the purposes of erotic propitiation to a much\ngreater extent than travellers hitherto have been able to discover. But\nthe general conclusions are very unlikely to be changed by any further\nresearches. It is sufficiently obvious that the Darwinian \u00e6sthetic\nhas its chief support in the productions of barbaric nations, whose\nsocial conditions have been eminently favourable for the development of\nerotic art. This view might be in danger if we had no knowledge of any\nartistic activity in the most primitive tribes. But as a relatively\ndeveloped religious drama, and perhaps even some traditional mythical\nsongs have been found among the Fuegians;[367] as the Veddas have at\nleast one dance, possibly religious, and various magic poems;[368]\nas the Bushmen are masters of pictorial art and develop a great\ndramatic power in their pantomimic imitations of animals;[369] as\namong the Australians the surprisingly high development of theatrical\nmanagement and instruction[370] stands in the strongest contrast to\ntheir poor erotic lyric;\u2014in a word, as the religious, superstitious,\nand traditional forms of art among the lower savages have such an\nunmistakable predominance over those of erotic propitiation, there is\nno ethnological support for the assertion that the beginnings of art\nwere due to the impulse \u201cto attract by pleasing.\u201d\n\nIt may, of course, be argued that the Fuegians, the Veddas, the\nBushmen, and the rest, far from representing primitive man, are really\nto be considered as degenerate types. And it may furthermore be\ncontended that before marriage customs and other social institutions\nhad reached those forms which now prevail among the lower tribes, the\npromiscuous intercourse between all males and females during a fixed\npairing season must have produced an erotic art. Whatever value\nsuch reasoning may have, it at any rate implies the admission that\nthe art-creating influence of sexual selection cannot be _proved_\non _historical_ grounds. The question how primitive society is to\nbe reconstructed cannot as yet be considered to be finally solved.\nBut even if the original marriage customs had been such as Darwin\nsupposes, and even if courtship at this unknown stage of evolution had\nbeen carried on by means of art,[371] the fact that several existing\ntribes appear to be quite devoid of poetic and dramatic forms of\nerotic propitiation restricts the validity of Darwin\u2019s principle in a\nconsiderable degree.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe attraction of the Darwinian theory is of course obvious. After\nhaving realised the important part which sexual selection plays\nin the \u201cartistic\u201d activities of animals, one is naturally tempted\nto apply the same principle to all similar activities in men. The\ninfluence of erotic preferences is a biological datum, and, as such,\na principle of a more universal order, so to speak, than any one of\nthe social or religious motives.[372] However advantageous it may\nbe to apply this all-embracing explanation to the whole field of\nart, a descriptive study of the facts must needs compel us to pay\nattention to the sociological influences which assist or impede the\noperation of sexual selection. There is no doubt that there are some\nsecondary sexual characters and activities which are developed under\nall social conditions. And it is no less certain that both sexes\nare everywhere influenced by individual predilections. But these\npredilections cannot, of course, be regarded as factors of importance\nin a society where strictly-fixed marriage customs allow the partners\nno freedom of choice. They will, on the other hand, produce special and\ndifferentiated means of attraction where, either from demoralisation,\nas in Tahiti, or as the result of institutional polygamy, as in the\nMohammedan countries, or owing to free and idyllic conditions of life,\nas among the various tribes of India, competition for the favour of a\nmale or a female is unrestricted.\n\nIt is impossible, without transgressing the limits of the present\nwork, to give a complete account of the influences of society on\nerotic art. An author who should be able to embrace in his treatment\nall stages of evolution, the latest and most highly developed as\nwell as the earliest, would undoubtedly contribute an interesting\nchapter to art-philosophy if he were to explain in detail and with\nexamples how, _e.g._, lyric poetry has changed with changed marriage\ncustoms. Taking the art of historic nations, the contrast between\nthe literature of polygamous Orientals and that of Europeans, whose\nnotions of love are influenced by marriage institutions at least\nofficially monogamous, would afford an opportunity for most suggestive\ncomparisons. And even within the limits of modern art a comparison\nperhaps equally instructive may be made between the different classes\nof society with their varying forms of sexual life. No task could be\nmore interesting than that of finding out to how great an extent the\nmarvellously refined and differentiated expressions of romantic love\nwhich characterise some schools of modern poetry are dependent upon\nthe peculiar forms of sexual life prevailing among the upper classes.\nAs social factors of powerful, though never sufficiently recognised\ninfluence, the veiled polyandry and polygamy which lie at the bottom\nof modern society have undoubtedly influenced \u00e6sthetic notions as well\nas artistic activities. By causing a division of the sexual impulses\nthese conditions have facilitated the development of an ideal and\n\u00e6sthetic love-literature which never would have appeared, and cannot\neven be understood, among nations where this division does not exist.\nOn the other hand, the same causes have, as it is needless to point\nout, produced a literature and an art which, by their deliberate\ngrossness, stand in the strongest contrast not only to the romantic\nutterances of civilised nations, but even to the more na\u00efve products of\nprimitive tribes.\n\nWe cannot in this connection do more than indicate these general views,\nthe validity of which may be easily tested by the reader by application\nto modern art. Within the boundaries of ethnological art\u2014that is,\nbetween the stages of evolution represented by Tierra del Fuego on\none side and ancient Mexico at the other end\u2014there can, however, be\nfound sufficient proofs of the general law which manifests itself more\nfully in the richer and more highly differentiated products of modern\nart. Love, although fundamentally one and uniform as a feeling, is in\nits utterances ever changing with changing conditions of life. If its\nground is biological, its nuances are always determined by sociological\ninfluences. Without taking into due account all these nuances it is\nimpossible to assert anything about the influences of sexual selection\non art.\n\nThe considerations adduced in this chapter have led to results which,\nby their negative character, may seem to be very unsatisfactory. It\nwas shown first of all that artistic activities, in so far as they\nemphasise the qualities of either sex, must necessarily exercise an\nattractive influence on the opposite sex. From a psychological point\nof view we tried to prove that the various forms of self-decoration,\nsuch as are to be met with among primitive tribes, must have been\neminently effectual as means of such attraction. But we were, on the\nother hand, compelled to admit that the primary origin of dress and\nornaments in many cases could be quite as well explained without any\nreference to the relation between the sexes. Thus it became necessary\nto examine closely the dramatic and poetic art for the purpose of\nascertaining in which tribes competition for the favour of the opposite\nsex can be assumed as a cause of the art. The ethnological evidence,\nas quoted in the works on sexual selection, appeared too incomplete\nand inconsistent to admit of any general conclusions being drawn, and\nit seemed indispensable to sift the information as well as to classify\nthe instances. Instead of one all-explaining principle, which could be\napplied in all the various cases, we were confronted by a multitude\nof causes and conditions, all of which needed to be investigated\nseparately and weighed against each other. A reader who thinks every\ndiscussion fruitless which leads to no dogmatic conclusion might\nperhaps object that our re-examination of this much-debated question\nhas utterly failed in its purposes. We may, however, be allowed to\npoint out that although our investigation has not led to any definite\nestimate of the importance of sexual preferences for the development of\nart, it may perhaps have contributed in some degree to the elucidation\nof the connection between art, beauty, and sex.\n\nWe have seen that even in the conditions which are the most favourable\nfor its influence, sexual selection can never by itself create any\nquality of beauty. What kind of ideal the preferences of either sex\nare able to call into existence is sufficiently shown by the hideous\ndeformations of the body which are to be found among primitive tribes\nas well as among the most civilised nations. Wherever, through\nfavourable conditions of life and work, beauty, _i.e._ grace and\nharmony, is developed in the human body and its movements, there these\nqualities will often be enhanced by the selection that is exercised by\neither sex. But this selection can, of course, be of influence only\nwhere the sexes enjoy freedom of choice. This inquiry thus leads to the\ngeneral conclusion, which, we hope, will be confirmed by the reasoning\nof all the following chapters, that the problems of beauty and art can\nnever be separated from the general problems of social life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe have endeavoured to show that sexual selection has only called\nforth artistic activities in uncivilised man when the conditions have\nbeen especially favourable. As a cause of artistic activity, sexual\n_selection_ does not operate everywhere. But even where there is\nno competition between rivals, sexual _emotions_ may still find an\nartistic expression. In short, sexual selection is _a_ cause of erotic\nart, but it is not the only cause. With less freedom of choice for\nthe females, there is, of course, less need for the males to develop\nespecial activities for the purpose of erotic propitiation. But even\nwhere the female is thus deprived of the signal influence which she,\nthrough her favouring or rejecting selection, can exercise on the\nappearance and the activities of the race, her instinctive coyness may\nnecessitate some means of erotic persuasion. This purpose is already\nserved by the various kinds of caressing movements which are to be\nfound not only among men, but also among many species of animals.[373]\nBut it is also probable that primitive man, in the same way as the\nbirds, may have resorted to song and dance as a mode of winning the\nfemale\u2019s consent. These activities, which are preliminary to pairing,\ncannot, of course, be of the same importance to evolution as those\nwhich aim at securing preference in the selection of mates. But they\nmay none the less attain a high degree of development. In degenerate\ntribes especially, erotic dancing is no doubt used as an effectual\naphrodisiac.\n\nIt is not necessary, however, to seek for biological advantages in\nerotic dances, pantomimics, and poems. The strong emotional tension\nwhich accompanies pairing must of itself give rise to some mode of\nseeking relief by sound or movement. These manifestations, on the\nother hand, will by association revive the pleasurable feelings with\nwhich they have been connected. As, moreover, among primitive men\nsexual exaltation is one of the strongest\u2014in peaceful tribes even\n_the_ strongest\u2014feeling which occurs in their life, any other rapture\nwill borrow the form of its expression from this elementary passion.\nIt is well known that even in civilised nations intense delight tends\nto express itself in erotic gestures. In some cases, as, _e.g._,\nthat of abnormal religious exaltation, one might think that a state\nof high-strung emotion, by suspending all intellectual life, does in\nfact leave a man at the mercy of overwhelming animal impulses. The\nexaggerated devotion of all emotional religions sets at liberty the\n_b\u00eate humaine_, which can be kept under control only by the continuous\ncompetition with the higher faculties. In other instances, such as\nthose when people who have received some good news feel an inclination\nto embrace or kiss each other, it is more natural to assume a process\nof association. In either case the psychology of civilised man enables\nus to understand why erotic dances are so generally used by primitive\ntribes, even on occasions when they seem least appropriate.\n\nIt would be superfluous to undertake an ethnological review of erotic\nmotives in art. As we have already remarked in the preceding chapter,\nthere are tribes which, according to the reports of travellers,\nnot only are completely devoid of erotic art in the sense of\nlove-propitiation, but do not even allow love any place as a subject\nof art. It seems, however, safest to draw no conclusions from this\ndeficiency of data. Erotic art, as everything else connected with\nsexual life, has too often been overlooked by ethnological authors.\nSavage, W. Ellis, Wyatt Gill, Romilly, and many others, consider\nthemselves bound by modesty to pass over such pantomimes as are \u201ctoo\nindelicate and obscene to be mentioned.\u201d[374] Even the brothers\nSarasin, who otherwise have aimed at the greatest possible completeness\nin their account of the Veddas, candidly say that they have observed\nno \u201cLustt\u00e4nze,\u201d but also never inquired about them.[375] It would not\nbe surprising, therefore, if some less discreet traveller should at\nsome future time describe hitherto unknown erotic dances and songs\nfrom, say, the Bushmen or the Andamanese. And there is the more reason\nto anticipate that a closer intimacy with primitive man may bring to\nlight illustrations of erotic art, as in many savage tribes sexual\nmatters are hedged in by taboo, and are especially concealed from white\nvisitors.[376]\n\nOn the other hand it is very probable that the erotic element in\nprimitive art has often been overrated. It seems doubtful whether the\nexpressions \u201cimproper\u201d and \u201cindecent,\u201d as used by the travellers in\ndescriptions of dances and dramas, are always intended to signify that\nthe representations in question were of an erotic nature.[377] And\neven when, for the civilised spectator, a pantomime appears to be most\nimmoral, this impression may be due to a misunderstanding of its real\nmeaning. No doubt, ignorance of the language and the customs of the\nvarious tribes has often occasioned false interpretations. Mr. Reeves,\nwho warns us against uncritical belief in travellers\u2019 tales, has been\nable to adduce from his own experience a most telling example of such\na mistake. When witnessing a performance of short dramas, \u201cmekes,\u201d in\nSamoa, he and his party felt extremely shocked by the indecent action\nof one of the interludes. Afterwards, however, he learned from the\nnatives that the objectionable pantomime was only intended to represent\nthe movements of a woman gathering fishes in a basket.[378]\n\nIn a descriptive account of primitive art it would, of course, be\nnecessary to reckon with all these inadequacies of ethnological\nevidence. The general results, such as are wanted for a philosophical\ntreatment, would not be affected by corrections in single instances.\nThe probability is that in every tribe, independently of its social\nstate and of its forms of sexual selection, erotic feelings have always\nexpressed themselves in some way or other. With varying conditions\nof life these modes of expression have, of course, acquired greater\nor less importance for art. Where war occupies the attention of the\ntribe to an exclusive degree, erotic motives can never occupy a\nprominent place in art. Where, as is alleged to be the case among\nsome Australian tribes, notions of decorum forbid any expression of\nthe feelings of affection and love, love songs and dances will hardly\nbe publicly acknowledged in public art.[379] On the other hand, an\nerotic literature will be prominent in such communities as that of\nTahiti.[380] And when, as in Kamschatka, poems generally are composed\nby women, it is only natural that their subjects should be chiefly\n\u201clove, hate, grief, and hope.\u201d[381] These facts are all so self-evident\nthat there is no need to argue upon them.\n\nMore interesting than all these sociological agencies is the influence\nof prevailing religious and superstitious notions. As has been already\npointed out, sexual taboo has in many cases checked the development of\nerotic poetry and dance as a public art. But perhaps more frequent than\nthe cases of such prevention are those where they have been furthered\nby phallic systems of religion. This is of course an additional reason\nfor caution in accusing primitive art of immorality when it shocks our\nfeelings of modesty.[382] Thus the indecency of religious sculptures\nconnected with ancestor-worship has undoubtedly often a serious and\nsymbolical meaning.[383] In some tribes indecent pantomimes, which\notherwise are strictly forbidden, will be performed, evidently for\nsome superstitious reason, at funeral ceremonies.[384] Perhaps, also,\nsome superstitious notion about sympathetic magic lies behind the\nobscene rites and songs which so often accompany wedding ceremonies.\nThis principle appears more unmistakable in the dramatic rites which\nare performed by many people as means of removing sterility. Finally,\nowing to a combination of sympathetic magic and animistic conceptions\nof nature, erotic pantomime has acquired a prominent place among\nagricultural rites.\n\nAll these manifestations of pictorial and literary art, which in aim\nand intention cannot, properly speaking, be called erotic at all,\nwill be treated of in the following chapters. In this connection it\nis only necessary to mention the naturalistic dramas which in Africa\nand Australia are represented at the initiation of boys in manhood.\nWe need not explain that the performances in the male camps, by which\nthe youths are introduced to all the features of men\u2019s life, naturally\nassume an obscene character. But it is interesting that the pantomimes,\nwhich, from our standpoint at least, are so revolting, sometimes seem\nto be meant to serve the interests of morality. Mr. Mathews, in his\ndescription of the Bora ceremony among the Kamilaroi, says that this\npantomimic representation was enacted for the purpose of teaching\nyouths to abstain from homo-sexual vices.[385] Knowing the degree\nof immorality which has been reached by many savage tribes, one may\nreadily understand that the old men in the tribe have resorted to\nthese radical means of dissuading the boys from vice. And one feels\ntempted to apply Mr. Mathews\u2019 explanation to similar rites in other\ntribes than the Kamilaroi. The initiation ceremonies of the Amazulus,\nfor instance, which would in no case be possible in any but extremely\ndegenerate nations, might be explained on the same hypothesis.[386]\n\nIt is significant that the Kamilaroi, in vindication of their obscene\nart, have hit upon the very same apology which was adduced in defence\nof the French literature of the eighteenth century. But in both cases,\namong the primitives as well as in civilised communities, the supposed\nbeneficial effects of erotic art seem to be very questionable. Where\ndances, dramas, and songs speak only of sensual pleasure, they will\nsoon kill intellectual inquisitiveness as well as zeal for work.\nSir Henry Johnston, who has more right than any one else to speak\nabout the populations of Africa, thinks that the sudden arrest in\nthe intellectual development of African boys which can generally be\nnoticed at the time of puberty is a result of the overpowering sexual\nstimulation to which they are at that time exposed.[387] As the same\ncause, _i.e._ an art and a social life which are full of erotic\nsuggestions, operates in many savage tribes, it may perhaps account\nto some extent for the fact, recently commented upon by Kidd, that,\nnotwithstanding the marvellous teachableness of primitive children,\nsavages always prove inferior to white men after the attainment of\nmaturity.[388] And it gives a reason for the tendency\u2014fruitless, no\ndoubt, but none the less sincere\u2014which is to be found among some of\nthe strongest nations, the ancient Maori, for instance, to repress\nand quench by all possible means the development of an art that aims\ndeliberately at erotic stimulation.[389]\n\n\n\n\n                             CHAPTER XVIII\n\n                             ART AND WORK\n\n\nIn our treatment of erotic art we have been led far away from the\nconnection between art and the maintenance of species. Whatever the\ncase may be for animals and those primitive men whose sexual life is\nrestricted within a short and fixed pairing season, an artificial\nstimulation of the erotic feelings is no _biological_ requirement\nfor the existing tribes of man. Where art has mainly served this\npurpose, it has not, as has been shown, by any means exercised a\nbeneficial influence on the race. The most typical illustrations in\nthe last chapter were therefore found in the artistic productions\nof degenerate tribes which no doubt would, if brought into conflict\nwith less licentious neighbours, prove inferior in the struggle for\nexistence. And all these instances afford invaluable arguments to those\nphilosophers who consider art as a checking and weakening factor in\nprogress.\n\nIt is hoped, however, that the present chapter will contribute towards\nthe refutation of such one-sided views. We intend to adduce instances\nfrom various stages of culture which will bring out the importance of\nart as a favouring factor in the struggle for life.\n\nIt is evident that a pantomimic imitation of any activity must, as\nexercise and stimulation, facilitate the subsequent real execution\nof the same activity. Individuals and nations who have grown familiar\nin play with the most important actions in life\u2019s work have thus\nacquired an unquestionable advantage in the struggle for existence.\nAfter the publication of Professor Groos\u2019s great works on animal and\nhuman recreations it is needless to dwell upon this point. This eminent\npsychologist has, with regard to the evolutionary value of sportive\nrepresentations\u2014or, as he prefers to say, \u201cpr\u00e6-presentations\u201d\u2014of life,\nbeen led to consider them as based on inherited instinctive impulses.\nInstead of the play-impulse, which only serves to provide an outflow\nfor the superfluous energy in the organism, he has thus introduced\nthe conception of an activity which exercises an important positive\ninfluence on life. And, on the other hand, his consummate researches\nhave brought out with especial clearness the intimate connection\nbetween play and art. A great many of the instances he has collected\npresent all the technical qualifications of a manifestation of dramatic\nart. As Groos himself remarks, only the addition of a disinterested\n\u00e6sthetic attention in the players is needed in order to transform the\ninstinctive activities into artistic ones. How this transition has\ntaken place is a question which will undoubtedly be treated in the\ngreat system of art-philosophy to which the hitherto published works\nof Professor Groos constitute the introduction. We have therefore\nonly to point out how much support these views derive from the study\nof primitive art. In the various tribes, with their differing types\nof life, there is afforded a singular opportunity of observing the\nconnection between play, or art, and the serious occupations of life.\nThe games of the children, as well as the dances and pantomimes of\nthe full-grown, almost everywhere correspond to the prevailing\nactivities in the various communities. The North American Indians,\nthe Malays, the Maoris, the tribes of Central Asia, and others, all\nfurnish instances of the familiar law that the amusements of warlike\nnations mainly consists in exercises which are preliminary to, or\nreminiscent of, the experiences of battle. A war dance or a mimic\nfight is the traditional type not only of their public entertainments,\nbut also of their state ceremonial. No example could be more telling\nthan that of the Dahomey state dances, which, however they may begin,\nalways seem to end with an imitation of the greatest social action in\nthe country\u2014decapitation.[390] Where the struggle for existence is\na contest with nature and not with fellow-men, a hunting or fishing\npantomime usually takes the place of these military performances. It\nis true that such representations of work often lose their importance\nin national art when the conditions of life grow easier. Mr. Taplin\nthus contrasts the rich and varied entertainments of the Polynesians,\nwho without any exertion obtain their subsistence from their bountiful\nsoil, with the amusements of the poor Narrinyeri, who even in their\ndances and pantomimes have always practised \u201cthose arts which were\nnecessary to get a living.\u201d[391] But it is significant that even the\ninhabitants of these \u201chappy islands\u201d in their dramatic performances\nintroduce imitations of rowing, fighting, and other kinds of common\nwork. And at still higher degrees of development, where the division of\nlabour has given rise to special trades, all these various crafts will\noften, as was the case in Dahomey, in ancient Peru, and in medi\u00e6val\nEurope, be a favourite subject for pantomimic representation.[392]\nIf such representations have been of no especial value as exercise,\nthey may nevertheless, by bringing about an association between work\nand pleasure, have made toil and labour less repugnant. The exertions\ncalled forth by the struggle for existence have thus at all stages\nof culture, except that of modern industrialism, been to some extent\nfacilitated by art.\n\nPerhaps even more important in their influences than the imitation of\nwork in play or drama are the artistic activities which accompany the\nactual performance of work. As these kinds of dance and song have been\nsomewhat overlooked by Professor Groos, there is reason to make them\nthe subject of a closer investigation.\n\nWhen explaining the manifestations of art which can thus, in the\nliteral meaning of the word, be called songs and dances of action,\nwe have to divide our attention between two different points of\nview. First, the need of stimulation and regulation of the work of\nthe individual, and, second, the need of co-operation in the work of\ndifferent individuals. In both these respects art has had an importance\namong primitive tribes which can scarcely be overrated.\n\nIt is well known that at a lower degree of mental development\nthe power of instantaneous muscular exertion is far less than\namong educated men. Broca\u2019s experiments showed that artisans with\nsomewhat trained intelligence generally reached higher figures on a\ndynamometer than working men who were only used to bodily exertions.\nAnd the Negroes, whose forces were tested by F\u00e9r\u00e9, were far below\nthe average of Europeans.[393] As in these experiments the natives\nwere introduced to new and unaccustomed movements, the evidence of\nthe psychometric apparatus must be considered as somewhat extenuated\nby the circumstances. Broadly speaking, these experiments can,\nhowever, be taken as indications of a general psychological law.[394]\nThe experimental evidence is, moreover, corroborated by the common\ncomplaints of Europeans who have had to rely on natives. The slowness\nwith which the primitive man gets into swing with his work has no\ndoubt been referred to times without number by slavekeepers when\nadvocating their methods of treating natives. Strange to say, there are\nsome tribes which themselves candidly admit their own inertness, and\nvoluntarily submit to whipping in order to get \u201ctheir blood a little\nagitated.\u201d[395]\n\nThe slowness and the insensibility of the Guarani are, however,\nas appears from Mr. Rengger\u2019s description, exceptional and\npathological.[396] But it seems as if almost all tribes had invented\nsome means of inciting themselves to work. Only, these means are seldom\nsuch as Europeans would feel inclined to avail themselves of when\nurging on their workers. That they can nevertheless be as effectual as\neven the slavekeepers whip is shown by Signor Salvado. His description\nof his experiences with Australian natives as farm-labourers is\ndelightful: \u201cHow often,\u201d says he, \u201chave I not used their dancing songs\nin order to encourage and urge them on in their work. I have seen them,\nnot once, but a thousand times lying on the ground with minds and\nbodies wearied by their labour; yet as soon as they heard me singing\nthe Machiel\u00f2-Machiel\u00e9, which is one of their commonest and favourite\ndancing songs, they would yield to an irresistible impulse, and rise\nand join me with their voices. They would even begin to dance joyfully\nand contentedly, especially when they saw me singing and dancing among\nthem, like any other savage. After a few minutes of dancing I would\nseize the opportunity to cry out to them in a merry voice, Mingo!\nMingo! a word meaning breast, which is also used in the same way as\nour word courage. After such an exhortation they would gradually set\nto work again. And they would begin afresh with such goodwill and\neagerness, that it seemed as if the dance of Machiel\u00f2 had communicated\nto them new courage and new vigour.\u201d[397]\n\nFrom many parts of the world there may be quoted examples of savages\nwho always raise a chant when compelled to overcome their natural\nlaziness.[398] In many cases they seem, as in Salvado\u2019s anecdote, to\navail themselves of words and melodies which perhaps were originally\nintended only for amusement.[399] But it is also well known that\nworking men everywhere stimulate themselves by special songs of\nexhortation.[400] And when employed in prolonged and monotonous work\nthey everywhere seem to know that toil may be relieved by song.[401]\nThe majority of these work poems may perhaps be of no great poetical\nor musical merit, but that does not affect their great evolutionistic\nimportance. Whether Noir\u00e9 is right or not in his theory that language\nhas developed from the work cries of primitive men,[402] there is no\ndoubt that some of the simplest and perhaps earliest specimens of\npoetry are to be found among the short ditties sung by labourers during\ntheir work. The stimulus which is provided by such songs is easily\nunderstood without any explanation. But their invigorating power will\nbe perceived more clearly when we take into account that emotional\nsusceptibility to musical impressions which has been remarked in so\nmany primitive tribes.[403] Besides these invigorating effects, every\nmusical accompaniment will also, by virtue of its rhythmic elements,\nregulate the movements of work, and thereby produce a saving of force\ndeployed.\n\nWhen the words of the work-songs refer to the action itself, the\neffect will be strengthened by verbal suggestion. It is true that many\nof the songs which are sung during the manufacture of weapons and\nutensils, during boat-building and such-like, are magical in their\nintention.[404] But there is no doubt that the ideas of poetical\nmagic are to a great extent derived from a psychological experience\nof the suggestive power of words. Without committing ourselves to any\nsuperstition, we can easily believe that\u2014in Polynesia as well as in\nancient Finland\u2014canoes were better built when the \u201cboat-building\u201d song\nwas properly recited by the builder. Only we prefer to think that the\nmagic operated on the workman and not on his material.\n\nThe psychological influence of the work dances is still easier to\nunderstand. Preliminary movements, even when undirected, always make\nthe subsequent action more effective; witness a golfer\u2019s flourish\nbefore driving. As Lagrange has pointed out, their effect will be\nto develop that amount of animal heat which is necessary for every\nmuscular contraction.[405] When, moreover, they are fixed and\ndifferentiated in their form, the influence will of course be all the\ngreater. By every attempt to execute a special movement, the idea\nof such movement is made more and more distinct. And as hereby the\nideomotor force of this representation is increased, the final action\nmust be executed with greater ease and greater efficacy. The validity\nof this law may be easily proved by experimental psychology. F\u00e9r\u00e9 has\nin his dynamometrical tests observed that the second pressure always\nattains a higher figure than the first one. \u201cLa premi\u00e8re pression a\npour effet de renforcer la repr\u00e9sentation mentale du mouvement.\u201d[406]\nWithout any theoretical knowledge of these psychological facts, the\ncommon man has always been able to avail himself of the beneficial\neffects which are to be derived from preliminary imitations of any\ndifficult movement. Hence the curious pantomimes of experimentation\nwhich we may always observe in the artisan who has to give a finishing\ntouch to his work, or in the athlete who tries to perform a new and\nunaccustomed exercise.\n\nThe psychology of movement-perception, as we have described it in the\nforegoing, makes it evident that a similar prompting influence may be\nexercised by the actions of others.[407] This is an experience which\nmust have occurred, we should imagine, to every one who has been\ncoached in golf by a professional. When concentrating his attention\nupon each successive movement in the instructor\u2019s model performance,\nthe beginner in sports and gymnastics receives with his whole body,\nso to speak, an impression of the exercise he has to go through. The\nrepresentation thus gains in distinctness as well as in motor force,\nand the subsequent movement is executed in an almost automatic way.\n\nThese familiar facts from the psychology of everyday life will explain\nwhy among the savage tribes we so often meet with the institution of\nthe pr\u00e6sul. When any labour is to be performed which requires the\nco-operation of many hands, such as the harvest or rowing, the pr\u00e6sul\ndemonstrates in dance or pantomime the sequence of movements which\nthe others have to go through.[408] By the suggestive influence of\nhis performance all the individual workers are stimulated in their\nexertions. More important, however, than this stimulation is the\nco-ordination of labour which is effected by the element of rhythm in\nsong and dance.\n\nWe have in a previous chapter spoken at sufficient length of the\nincalculable \u00e6sthetic importance of rhythm as a means of producing\nemotional community between different individuals. In this connection\nwe have still to point out that a fixed time-division must in the same\nway facilitate common activity. From the historical point of view this\npractical aspect is undoubtedly the more important. However fundamental\nand primordial the \u00e6sthetic function of the perception of rhythm may\nseem for the theorist, it is most probable that the development of\nthis faculty has been chiefly furthered by its utilitarian advantages.\nThere is no doubt that even the most primitive man may feel the want of\nassociating his fellow-men in his emotions, and that for this purpose\nhe may be able to give the expression of them a fixed rhythmical form.\nBut the power of perceiving this time-division as a rhythm, and of\nobeying it closely in song and dance, would, as Dr. Wallaschek has\nshown, certainly not have attained so high a degree of development\nif this power had not, by facilitating common activity, been of such\nimmense advantage for the maintenance of species.[409] It goes without\nsaying that any work which necessitates the co-operation of several\nworkers must be executed with greater efficiency the more closely the\nindividuals follow to a common rhythm.\n\nThere is no doubt, therefore, that, as Spencer remarks, the\nincompetence of the Arab and Nubian boatmen on the Nile is chiefly\na result of their inability to act together. As an Arab dragoman\nis reported to have said, a few Europeans would, by virtue only of\ntheir superior powers of co-operation, do in a few minutes what now\noccupies hundreds of men.[410] Such an incapacity for concerted action\nis, however, quite exceptional among the lower tribes of men. Some\ntribes, as _e.g._ the farmer Negroes in West Africa and the Malay and\nPolynesian boatmen, are even famous for the wonderful regularity of\ntheir work.[411] This regularity, on the other hand, has been explained\nby all travellers as a result of the rhythmical songs by which their\nwork is accompanied.\n\nIt is significant that the most typical specimens of working songs and\ndances should be met with in the tribes of Oceania. The insular life,\nwhich even in other respects has been so favourable to the development\nof art, has necessitated a most intimate co-operation between\nindividuals.[412] Hence the development of canoe dances and boating\nsongs, by help of which the movements of the rowers are adjusted\naccording to common and fixed rhythms.[413] The same necessity has of\ncourse produced similar results, in a greater or less degree, in every\ncommunity where the type of life makes collective action needful. It\nhas not given rise to any important manifestations of art among the\npastoral tribes, in which individuals can do well enough without help\nfrom each other. In agricultural societies, on the other hand, it has\ncalled forth those sowing and harvest dances or songs which are so\nfamiliar in the folklore of the civilised nations.[414] And, more than\nany other of life\u2019s occupations, war has required an active coherence\nbetween the individual members of the tribe. The influence of military\ninstitutions on art is, however, in more than one respect so important\nthat its treatment must be reserved for a special chapter.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XIX\n\n                              ART AND WAR\n\n\nIn the _Principles of Sociology_ Mr. Spencer has devoted some of his\nmost forcible paragraphs to a treatment of the social influences of\nwar. By adducing and comparing with each other types of social life\namong different tribes, he has been able to show how military customs\neverywhere tend to reduce the individual liberty and strengthen the\ncentral power.[415] Many other writers on sociology have perceived\nand commented on the truism that the internal coherence of tribes\nhas been chiefly produced by the need of combination for defensive\npurposes.[416] But perhaps sufficient attention has not been paid to\nthe share which art has had in the development of those peculiarities\nwhich are common to all military nations. And yet as a means of\nfacilitating tribal unity of action and feeling, music and dance must\nbe of exceptional sociological importance in warlike communities.[417]\n\nWe shall therefore meet with highly developed choral dances in those\nnations in whose life war is a customary occurrence. The North\nAmerican Indians,[418] as well as the Dahomeyans,[419] are noted for\nthe soldier-like regularity of their dances. But nowhere among the\nlower tribes of mankind is the time-sense so refined as among the\npre-eminently warlike Maori. Notwithstanding the furious movements in\ntheir war dances, the gesticulation of all the participants is always\nuniform and regular.[420] According to Cruise the very slightest\nmotions of their fingers are simultaneous;[421] and, if we are to\nbelieve Mr. Bidwill, even their eyes all move together.[422] Highly\naccomplished dancers as are certain other Polynesian tribes[423] less\nwarlike than the Maori, it will be admitted that such a pitch of more\nthan Prussian precision would never have been attained if it were not\nfor its military advantages. To the same cause one is also tempted\nto ascribe the regularity of the Kaffir dances,[424] which by their\nchoral character stand in so marked a contrast to the amusements of the\nneighbour tribe, the peaceful Hottentots, among whom every dancer acts\n\u201cseparately for himself.\u201d[425]\n\nIt is evident that a regular co-operation in fighting is effectually\npromoted by rhythmical music. And we do in fact find that music,\nespecially instrumental music, at the lower stages of development is\nclosely connected with war.[426] It is, however, more natural to assume\nthat military music, and similarly military poetry and dance, have had\ntheir chief importance not as regulating but as stimulating influences.\nThere are many tribes which seem quite unable to observe any kind of\nmilitary discipline. But even in the undeveloped and unmethodical\nwarfare of the lowest savages, music, songs, and dances have been used\nas means of infusing courage and strength. The psychology of these\nmilitary stimuli is of course the same as that of industrial art. But\nthe general principles appear with far greater clearness when applied\nto this peculiar kind of activity.\n\nFirst of all, the need of stimulation is never so great as when a man\nhas to risk his life in an open battle. If in work he has to overcome\nhis natural inertia, laziness, he has here to overcome the still\nstronger obstacle of fear. Contrary to the romantic notions of popular\nliterature, primitive man seems to be timorous rather than brave\nwhen not encouraged by adventitious excitement.[427] This cowardice\ncan, however, to a great extent be explained by defective military\norganisation. Where the mutual support which the well-drilled soldiers\nof a regular army render each other is lacking, the need of personal\ncourage is of course so much the greater. Civilised warfare tries to\navoid the conflict between the instinct of self-preservation and of a\nsoldier\u2019s duty by the pressure of strict discipline; savage warfare,\nwhich cannot count on the same forces of submission and mental control,\nis compelled to minimise this conflict by deadening the consciousness\nof peril. Hence the indispensability of some means of producing violent\nexcitement by which the necessary forgetfulness of danger and death may\nbe attained.[428]\n\nApart from the influence of fear, the task of slaughter is one which,\nfrom its very nature, cannot be performed in cold blood. Even where\nthe element of danger is absent, as when unarmed foes are killed or\ntortured, the savage executioners do not generally get to work straight\naway. As soon as a beginning has been made, a sort of intoxication\nwill indeed be produced by mental as well as physical agencies, such\nas the sight of blood or the pride of conquest. But this intoxication,\nso eagerly desired by savages in civilised as well as in primitive\ncommunities, cannot be produced even in the lowest tribes of man\nwithout a preliminary working up. The passion of cruelty, like that of\nlove, is, in its higher and more ecstatic forms, too overwhelming in\nits mental effects to be attained without an artificial enhancement of\npsychical capacity. But whereas the erotic feelings tend with growing\ndevelopment to become more and more a private matter, cruelty is among\nwarlike tribes an emotion of national importance. The incitement to\nslaughter is therefore apt to become social\u2014that is, common to several\nindividuals at once. This is one of the reasons why war is of so much\ngreater importance than love as a motive for tribal art.\n\nThere are some tribes in which the soldiers try to acquire courage and\nthirst for blood by magical expedients, such as smearing themselves\nwith some powerful unguent, or eating the raw meat of a newly\nslaughtered ox.[429] Sometimes a joint tattooing of the whole corps\nwith a common pattern is undertaken, most probably for the same magical\npurpose.[430] But however effectually such ceremonies may be supposed\nto operate, savages do not generally put so much trust in them as to\ngive up their favourite means of stimulation\u2014music and dancing. In\npeople who sincerely believe in their own magic any rite will of course\narouse increased confidence and courage. But this suggestive influence\nis only indirect in comparison with the immediate psychological effects\nof inciting dances.\n\nPopular novels have familiarised us all with the weird war dances\nwhich play such an important part in the warfare of the North American\nIndians. In its main features this type of pantomimic incitement is the\nsame everywhere\u2014among the African and Oceanic tribes as well as among\nthe savage nations described in classic literature.[431] By imitating\nthe movements of a real fight, by exulting cries, deafening noise, and\nbrandishing of weapons, the dancers work themselves up to a pitch of\nfrenzy which cannot be compared to anything but a transient madness.\nEspecially among the nations of America war dances often arouse so much\nexcitement, even when performed during times of perfect peace, that\nthey become dangerous to friendly and peaceful onlookers.[432] Here\nalso\u2014just as in the Hungarian \u201cEnlistment\u201d\u2014dancing is used as a means\nof enticing men to join the ranks of the war chief who wants recruits\nfor some war-expedition.[433]\n\nIt is evident that the influence of such pantomimes is not restricted\nto a generalised stimulation and encouragement. These sham fights,\njust as the sportive imitations of work, must facilitate the execution\nof those movements which they imitate. And even those who do not join\nthe dance will profit by watching the evolutions which they themselves\nwill afterwards be called on to perform in reality. Thus there may\noriginally have been a very utilitarian reason for the curious warfare\nof the Headhunters of Ceram, who always have the Jakalele dance\nperformed in front of their fighting line. It is pathetic to read that\neven in their wars with the Dutchmen a few fantastically dressed\ndancers head the advance against the repeating guns of the European\nforce.[434]\n\nThis fact, which is certainly not without its parallels in other savage\ntribes, gives the most convincing proof of the indispensability of\npantomimic stimulation to savage warfare. Although less intimately\nconnected with fighting itself, poetry has had for war an importance\nwhich can scarcely be estimated at a much lower rate. Words, of course,\ncan never provoke such a direct and almost physiological stimulation as\nthe imitation of actions. But words, on the other hand, have a greater\neffect on the mind. The suggestive power of the war songs is also\nattested by the descriptions of travellers among various tribes. In\nAustralia, for instance, four or five mischievously inclined old women\ncan soon stir up forty or fifty men to any deed of blood by means of\ntheir chants, which are accompanied by tears and groans, until the men\nare worked into a perfect state of frenzy.[435] \u201cThe savage blood of\nthe Ahts always boiled when the war songs were recited, their fingers\nworked convulsively on the paddles, and their eyes gleamed ferociously;\naltogether they were two hundred murderous-looking villains.\u201d[436]\nIn Ashanti and in New Zealand\u2014in short, amongst all the most warlike\ntribes\u2014the military singers are able to bring themselves and their\naudience up to a pitch of frenzy which is almost equal to that produced\nby the dances.[437]\n\nIn one of the preceding chapters we have already pointed out how\ninvaluable a support historic art has given to national pride. This\nfeeling, on the other hand, is never so indispensable as in time of\nwar. Wherever a tribe has any traditions of its past history, such\ntraditions are always revived and recited to the soldiers before and\nduring the battles.[438] And if a people has no glorious ancestors\nto boast of, it can none the less gain the necessary confidence by\nglorifying its own valour and reviling its enemies. Even tribes like\nthe Bakairis, for example, are thus able to \u201csing themselves full of\ncourage\u201d in boasting and defiant exultation.[439]\n\nAccording to competent observers, such songs are more particularly\nemployed when the natives are afraid.[440] The expression of bravery,\neven if originally affected, must necessarily awaken some real\nfeeling of pride or confidence. Contempt, on the other hand, however\nlaboriously worked up, is the most effectual means of preserving\nequanimity under the stress of depressing feelings, admiration, envy,\nor fear. Songs and pantomimes, such as, for instance, those with which\nthe Polynesians invariably begin their battles, must therefore have a\ngreat power of emboldening the warriors.[441] And while such outward\nshows of valour enable the performers to reconquer their courage, the\nenemy is intimidated by these manifestations of a feeling which is as\nyet incipient within themselves. In warfare, where the hostile armies\nstand within sight and hearing of each other, this consideration must\nof course be of extreme importance.\n\nIt seems, indeed, as if natural selection had developed in man an\nalmost instinctive tendency to overcome fear by simulating the\nexpressions proper to valour and menace. Just as animals, when\nfrightened, make themselves bigger and more formidable to their\nenemies, whether from fear or anger we know not, so man tries to\nawaken fear in the enemy confronting him at the same time, and by the\nsame means, as he vanquishes his own fear. This appears with especial\nclearness in wars between savage races, where both sides often seem\nto be as timid as they try to appear formidable and courageous. Their\nthreats and boastings are terrifying enough, but the real fights are\nvery bloodless and free from danger. Among the Cammas \u201cthe words really\nseem to do more damage than the blows.\u201d[442] The gallant game of bluff\nis in primitive politics not restricted to diplomatic negotiations;\nit plays an important part in the actual fighting. This remains true\neven with regard to tribes which are capable of real courage, not only\nin stealthy assault, but also in open battle. The Maorian military\npantomimes afford the best example of such a manifestation, which not\nonly stimulates the warriors to fight and regulates their movements\nin the battle, but also, as a European traveller has been compelled\nto admit, \u201cstrikes terror into the heart of any man.\u201d[443] In this\ncase the terrible effect is further strengthened by the hideous\ngrimaces, rolling of the eyes, protruding of the tongue, and so on,\nwith which the warriors accompany their dance.[444] So important is\nthis distortion of the countenance considered by the Maoris, that\ninstruction in the art of grimacing forms a part in their military\neducation.[445] The most warlike of savage tribes thus does not\ndespise the na\u00efve expedient which constitutes almost the sole means\nof self-defence among peaceful Eskimos.[446] And so highly do the\nMaoris appreciate the terrifying effects of the protruded tongue,\nthat they carve the grimace upon their spears, the \u201chanis,\u201d evidently\nin the belief that such representations will\u2014perhaps by some magic\npower\u2014demoralise the enemy.[447]\n\nThis pictorial pantomime brings us to the employment of formative arts\nin war. To some extent even painting, especially in its decorative\nbranches, may be considered as a means of exhortation. The various\ndecorations of the body which are usually adopted for fighting no\ndoubt raise the courage of their wearers. A festival dress, when\nassumed for battle\u2014for example, by the Khonds\u2014must needs bring with\nit a light and festive mood.[448] The red colour, so often used in\nmilitary dress, tends, on the other hand, to arouse increased vigour\nby direct physiological as well as by associative action.[449] Perhaps\nalso, as some old authors suggest, the use of red may have had a\nnegative importance by concealing the wounds and the blood, which else\nmight depress the men and encourage their enemies.[450] Like every\nbeautiful thing, highly ornamented weapons will afford their owners\nan invigorating feeling of pride, which, however,\u2014to judge from the\nunheroic character of many tribes whose weapons are most gorgeously\ndecorated,\u2014does not seem to be of any great military advantage.[451]\n\nMilitary ensigns, such as banners, standards, and the like, will\nnaturally, as outward symbols of the tribe, exercise an exciting\ninfluence on the warriors. Even for barbarous nations, with their\nundeveloped feelings of patriotism, in the modern sense of the word,\na flag may represent _la patrie en marche_. Well knowing the moral\nvalue of these apparently unimportant things, the Aztecs employed in\ntheir army men whose only task was \u201cto remove from the eyes of the\nenemy every object that could heighten their courage and inflame their\npride.\u201d[452]\n\nThe importance of field badges is of course increased when, as\ngenerally is the case, they are adorned with some religious or magical\nrepresentation. Be it a tutelar saint, a heathen god, or simply a totem\nanimal, which is depicted, these images will always be relied upon as\na strong support to the army.[453] The marvellous tales of assistance\nafforded by idols which have been carried in the front of battle may\nof course have some real foundation in the encouraging mental effects\nproduced upon the warriors.\n\nIt thus appears that ornaments, painting, and sculpture have been\nof no small influence in enhancing the fighting powers of warlike\nnations. Among the lower tribes of man these arts are, however, on the\nwhole much more appreciated as means of frightening the enemy. As was\nmentioned in a preceding chapter, some bodily deformations are, if\nwe may believe the natives, undertaken solely for this purpose.[454]\nOther warlike tribes endeavour to make themselves dreaded by their\nenemies by staining their bodies with ghastly colours, blood-red,\nazure, or black. Tattooing may, of course, often aim at the same end.\nAnd among the detached ornaments there is an especial class\u2014for which\nthe German ethnologists have invented the characteristic designation\n\u201cSchreckschmuck\u201d\u2014which are only worn in order to make the appearance\nmore frightful. The war helmets of the Thlinkeets[455] and the curious\ntooth masks of the Papuas are the most typical specimens of this\npre-eminently warlike decoration.[456]\n\nThe highest development of art as a means of terrifying is, however, to\nbe found in the decorated shields of the Dyaks. No form of pictorial\nthreat could be more effectual than the devices which ornament the face\nof these ghastly weapons. A grinning mouth, with sharp tusks in either\njaw, is always to be found in the middle of the shield. Above it stand\na pair of staring, circular eyes, usually surrounded by dark and light\nconcentric rings. Sometimes also there is a highly simplified outline\nof the lower parts of the body. The trunk is completely ignored,\nand arms and legs are quite swamped in a bewilderment of entangled\nlines, which extend over the whole surface of the shield. But in this\nornamentation the warlike motive is repeated over and over again.\nTusks protrude from the scrolls, and big round eyes stare menacingly\nout between them. Thus even the decorative \u201cpadding\u201d (Einf\u00fcllung)\noperates as a multiplied expression of defiant menace. As an eloquent\ncommentary on this text the whole shield is furthermore hung with tufts\nof human hair,\u2014trophies of vanquished enemies,\u2014which partly conceal\nthe brown, red, and black design.[457] The whole composition, which\nin a description may seem merely bizarre and brutal, is, however,\nexecuted with a severe symmetry and a wild grace which afford a most\npeculiar contrast to the weird motive. By these \u00e6sthetic qualities the\nornamentation acquires an art-value which is quite independent of its\nsupposed military advantages. One can indeed easily understand that the\nsavage foes of the Dyaks may be paralysed with terror when confronted\nin battle with those glaring eyes and menacing jaws. But even the\ncivilised observer who examines at his ease the shields which stand in\nthe glass cases of ethnological collections must needs be impressed by\ntheir power. Though they do not frighten us, they are not, as might\nbe expected, mere examples of ridiculous grimace. They still extort\nour admiration for that weird kind of beauty which, in primitive art\nas well as in animal warning colorationn, is so often found in close\nconnection with the feelings of terror.\n\nWe have deemed it profitable to dwell at some length on these\nremarkable products of savage decorative art. The demon shields of\nthe Dyaks, in spite of the fact that their motives have evidently\nbeen borrowed from Chinese and Indian art,[458] are eminently\nrepresentative of the nation and its social _milieu_. These wild men of\nthe woods have been able to express in their ornamental composition,\nbetter than would have been possible in any higher form of art, all\nthe intense feelings of their wild romantic life. The terror and\nintoxication of slaughter, as they are experienced in a tribe for\nwhich furtive murder is the holiest of all religious actions, speak\ntheir violent language in the glaring patterns. But at the same time\nthe elegant design, which is so characteristic a peculiarity of the\nshields, as well as of every other specimen of Dyak art, corresponds\nto the graceful and elegant personal appearance which, according to\nthe unanimous verdict of all travellers, distinguishes these fierce\nsavages.[459] And it seems as if this gracefulness, no less than the\nweird emotional content of the pictures, may be derived from the custom\nof head-hunting. The continuous insecurity which has given its own\ncharacter even to the Dyak architecture[460] has of course not been\nwithout its influence on the physical development of the tribe itself.\nWhere assault from insidious enemies is always to be expected, and\nwhere the type of fighting is single combat, lightness and suppleness\nof movement must be indispensable for the struggle for existence. We\ncan, therefore, easily understand how these people have acquired that\nnatural grace which similar utilitarian causes have developed among\nall mountainous animals, and among most beasts of prey.[461] Nor is\nit difficult to comprehend that this beauty of the human body, once\ncalled into existence by natural selection, must have awakened \u00e6sthetic\nattention to form and grace, and thus indirectly influenced even the\nmanifestations of ornamental art.\n\nIf it be objected that such sociological explanations of decorative\npatterns are too far-fetched, we at once refer to the marvellous Maori\nornaments, in which the temperament of another warlike tribe has found\na most characteristic expression. Like the fantastic convolutions on\nthe Dyak shields, the flaming scrolls of black and red which extend\nover the ceilings and walls of the Maori houses unmistakably attest\ntheir origin from a nation which war has made violent, vigorous, and\nintensely energetic.[462] Generally speaking, it may be futile to seek\nfor any differentiated expressional qualities in such an impersonal\nand unemotional art as that of linear ornament. But in face of these\npowerful designs even the most neutral observer will be struck with\nthe strong emotional exaltation which has here found a vent, not in\nwords, or sounds, or images, but in pure lines and colours. Such mighty\nstrokes, so full of life and agitation, could never have been drawn by\nany peaceful and quiet natives. The velocity and the wild inspiration\nof these patterns are only possible in a nation which has experienced\nin continuous fights an ever-repeated state of high-strung emotional\nexcitement.\n\nThe more official Maori decorative art, the Moko, as well as the Maori\nsculpture, probably because of their close connection with religion,\nare too rigid in their traditional character to admit of any strongly\npronounced emotional content. But the influence of warlike exaltation\nhas instead made itself felt in the poetical productions of the race.\nAnd, as has already been pointed out, but for the military type of life\ndancing could not have reached so marvellous a degree of development.\nOwing to the more organised character of Maori warfare, military\ncustoms do not, as among the Dyaks, aim chiefly at producing suppleness\nand graceful movements in the individual. But one has only to read the\nenthusiastic descriptions of the painter Earle in order to realise\nthe influence which military customs have even here exercised on the\ndevelopment of plastic beauty.[463]\n\nThe Dyaks and Maoris are but two of the most typical among savage\ntribes whose artistic productions have grown up under the auspices\nof war. For a complete account of art in its connection with war it\nwould be necessary to dwell on the war songs of the North American\nIndians,[464] to give some account of the art-style which is found\nin the military despotisms of Western Africa,[465] and to describe\nin detail the poetry which has been called into existence by the\ncontinuous tribal feuds of the North African nomadic hordes.[466] In\nits broad aspects, however, the \u00e6sthetic importance of war will, we\nhope, appear with sufficient clearness from the cursory review which\nhas been given above.\n\nWe have seen that war, as the hardest form of the struggle for life,\nhas needed, more than any other kind of work, the support which\n\u00e6sthetic stimulation affords to practical activities. And the art which\nhas developed under its influence has, to a greater degree than is\nusual in primitive production, fulfilled the conditions of emotional\ncommunity and emotional intensity. Moreover, the requirements of\nfighting have called forth \u00e6sthetic qualities of power and gracefulness\nin the physical type which seem to be reflected even in artistic\ncreation. Thus the art-production of military tribes has everywhere,\nindependently of racial and climatic influences, acquired some common\nqualities; their decorative arts, as well as their poetry and dramatic\ndances, are always characterised by an intense and forcible life, which\nis often combined with dignified power and graceful elegance.\n\nAll these are, of course, only restricted merits, which correspond to\nsome striking deficiencies. It is easily understood that art-life in\na military state of society always tends to be circumscribed within\nthe narrow boundaries of tribal sympathy. It may also be pointed out,\nat least as a curious and significant coincidence, that descriptive\nand figurative art, in the sense of realistic, faithful rendering of\nnature and life, has never attained any high development among the\nmost military tribes. Such a sympathetic interest in the picturesque\nqualities of the human and animal body as that which characterises\nthe art of the prehistoric European cave-dwellers, the Bushmen, and\nthe Eskimo, does not seem compatible with the customs of war. In\nthis connection it is not our business to estimate critically the\ncomparative importance of these merits and deficiencies: we have only\nto point out the undeniable significance which, from an historical\npoint of view, must be accorded to war as a factor in the development\nof art.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER XX\n\n                             ART AND MAGIC\n\n\nSympathetic magic has in recent times become a favourite subject of\nscientific study. We may therefore proceed to trace the influence which\nthis important factor has exercised on the development of art-forms\nwithout going through the labour of presenting and describing the\nevidence of its occurrence at the different stages of evolution. It\nis sufficient to refer to the copious and detailed researches of\nHartland, Frazer, B\u00e9ranger-F\u00e9raud, and others. What we need is only a\npsychological interpretation of all the facts which have been brought\ntogether by these authors.\n\nThe instances of sympathetic magic are naturally divided into two\nmain classes, which, broadly speaking, correspond to the two types of\nassociation. But just as in psychology it is often difficult to decide\nwhether a given associative process has its origin in a relation of\ncontiguity or in one of similarity, so it is often an open question\nto which group a given superstition is to be assigned. It may even be\npossible to deduce both groups from one common and fundamental magical\nprinciple.\n\nHowever the definitive theoretical explanation may turn out, we have\nfor the present to uphold a distinction between the two forms. And in\norder to start from the facts that are simpler and easier to explain,\nwe shall first devote our attention to _sympathetic magic based on a\nmaterial connection between things_.\n\nThe superstitious notions which can be brought together under this\nheading are familiar to every one. There is scarcely a single book on\nethnology or folklore which does not present some illustrations of the\nbelief that by acting upon a part of a given whole we may influence\nthis whole as well as all its other parts. This universal doctrine of\na solidarity between the things that have entered as parts in the same\nmaterial totality has given rise all over the world to beliefs and\npractices which, although varying in details, are essentially similar\nin general character. We need only refer to the well-known folk-beliefs\nas to the necessity of caution in disposing of clippings of hair or\nnails, of saliva, or anything else removed from the human body. Such\nobjects, it is supposed, would give any enemy into whose hands they\nmight fall the power of injuring through them the person from whom\nthey had proceeded.[467] Almost equally universal is the belief that\nclose relatives, as being ingredients in\u2014or perhaps rather partakers\nof\u2014the same whole, the family, are bound together in a quite material\nsolidarity of suffering. From the sociological point of view this group\nof superstitions, owing to the social importance of the last-mentioned\ntotality, is of especial interest; and therefore the curious customs\nconcerning the relation between a father and his unborn child, between\nhusband and wife, ancestors and descendants, etc., which no doubt are\nall based on the idea of a material connection, have been treated of\nwith due completeness in sociological literature.[468] Equally valuable\nfor the psychological interpretation, although less pregnant with\nsocial import, are all the petty tricks of sorcery in connection with\nhunting, fishing, agriculture, and so on, which are practised even now\namong most European nations.[469] From the array of facts inserted by\nMr. Hartland in his monumental commentary on the _Legend of Perseus_,\nwe can form an opinion of the wide and deep-going influences which the\nbelief in magical connection between things materially connected has\nexercised in all departments of life. And besides this ethnological\napparatus, Mr. Hartland gives us in this work a most complete and\ndefinite account of the world-view which lies behind all these\nsuperstitious beliefs and practices.\n\nMore light, however, is thrown on the philosophy of this superstition\nby the researches of M. Rochas d\u2019Aiglun than by any work on scientific\nethnology and folklore. This is not said in order to detract in any\nway from the merits of Messrs. Hartland and Frazer. But although\nnothing could surpass the erudition of these scholars, they could\nnot, in point of sympathetic and intelligent representation, stand\non a level with an author who himself believes in the reality of his\nfacts. For those, therefore, who wish to understand the motives,\nconscious or unconscious, by which the adepts of sympathetic magic\njustify their practices, nothing could be more instructive than a\nperusal of _L\u2019ext\u00e9riorisation de la motricit\u00e9_ and _L\u2019ext\u00e9riorisation\nde la sensibilit\u00e9_. In these works M. Rochas has not only minutely\nsummarised the seventeenth century theories and observations of Digby\nand Papin:[470] he has also supplemented these old \u201cfacts\u201d with his\nown experiments on objects that have been saturated with sensibility\nand motor power by contact with living bodies. The power of relics,\nlove philtres, and charms is thus explained in a way which, however\nfantastic, is nevertheless undeniably consistent and methodical.[471]\nA savage or an uneducated man would indeed be unable to put his case\nin the logical form which M. Rochas gives it. But if he understood\nscientific terminology, he would doubtless ratify, as a true\ninterpretation of his own vague conceptions, the theory of sensitive\nand motor effluvia which emanate from all living beings, and link them\nto all objects to which they may pass. As a _bona fide_ statement\nof magic principles in the language of modern psychology and modern\nphysics, M. Rochas\u2019 works bring the old superstitions home to us with\nunsurpassable force. We learn here to appreciate the powerful influence\nwhich may in all times be exercised by the underlying belief in an\ninvisible magical chain connecting things which appear to be severed.\nWhen we see a man of modern civilisation falling back upon these crude\nnotions, which appeared for a long time to be quite forgotten, we must\nneeds be convinced that the world-view of magic, however erroneous,\nis, so to speak, a constitutional fallacy of the human mind. In every\ndepartment of human ethos, therefore, there is reason to look for the\npossible effects of these conceptions.\n\nFor the present, however, we have to admit that sympathetic magic in\nits simplest form seems to be without any influence on the origin\nof works of art. It is very different with the second kind of\nmagic\u2014namely, that where the occult influence is based upon _a likeness\nbetween things_.\n\nTo judge from the literature of ethnology and folklore, this principle\nseems to be almost as universal as that of magic by virtue of material\nconnection. Its influence can be traced in beliefs and practices, not\nonly of the lowest savages, but also of civilised nations. It has\nreceived elaborate theoretical justification in the old systems of\nGreek philosophy, in the theories of Agrippa and Paracelsus, and in\nthe tenets of modern hom\u0153opaths. And there are even some real facts,\nsuch as the beneficial effects of inoculation and the \u201ckatharsis\u201d\naction of poetry\u2014the curing of sorrow by tragedy\u2014which are sometimes\nquoted in support of the thesis that \u201clike affects like.\u201d[472] Apart\nfrom all regard to such spurious arguments the theory of this form of\nmagic is scarcely less irrational than that underlying the first group\nof facts. From our point of view, however, even the crudest forms of\n\u201chom\u0153opathic\u201d magic are of far greater interest than the examples of\nsorcery by means of material connection. Whereas the adepts of the\nlatter need only procure a nail, a tuft of hair, or a few articles of\nclothing belonging to the man they wish to bewitch, the sorcerer who\nworks by similarities is compelled to create a representation of things\nand beings in order to acquire an influence over them. Thus magical\npurposes call forth imitations of nature and life which, although\nessentially non-\u00e6sthetic in their intention, may nevertheless be of\nimportance for the historical evolution of art.\n\nTo how great an extent works of art derive their material from old\nmagical practices, the real meaning of which has gradually fallen\ninto oblivion, may be shown in all the various departments of art.\nThere is not a single form of imitation which has not been more or\nless influenced by this principle. Pantomimic representation, which\nfor us is of value only in virtue of its intellectual or emotional\nexpressiveness, was in lower stages of culture used as a magical\nexpedient. Even a single gesture may, according to primitive notions,\nbring about effects corresponding to its import,[473] and a complete\ndrama is sincerely believed to cause the actual occurrence of the\naction which it represents. Students of folklore know that there\nis practically no limits to the effects which primitive man claims\nto produce by magical imitation. He draws the rain from heaven by\nrepresenting in dance and drama the appropriate meteorological\nphenomena.[474] He regulates the movements of the sun and encourages\nit in the labour of its wanderings by his dramatic sun-rituals;[475]\nand he may even influence the change of the seasons by dramas in which\nhe drives winter away and brings summer in.[476] By those phallic rites\nto which we have already referred in the chapter on erotic art, he\ntries in the same way to act upon the great biological phenomena of\nhuman life.[477] And again, when sickness is to be cured, he tries to\nsubdue the demons of disease\u2014to neutralise their action or to entice\nthem out of the body of the patient\u2014by imitating in pantomime the\nsymptoms of the particular complaint.[478] Finally, when the assistance\nof a divine power is required, the god himself may be conjured to take\nhis abode in the body of the performer, who imitates what is believed\nto be his appearance, movements, and behaviour.[479] Thus the belief in\nthe effectual power of imitation has all over the world given rise to\ncommon dramatic motives as universal as the belief itself, and uniform\nas the chief requirements of mankind.\n\nThere are, no doubt, many instances of dramatic ritual the purpose\nof which is as yet a matter of discussion. With regard to some of the\nsymbolic dances representing hunting or fishing or the movements of\ngame-animals, much may be said in favour of Mr. Farrer\u2019s view that\nthe object of the pantomime is to make clearer to the deity a prayer\nregarding the things imitated.[480] Similarly it is open to doubt\nwhether the dramatic performances at initiation ceremonies, such as,\nfor instance, the kangaroo dance described by Collins, are meant\nto impart instruction concerning the customs of the animals to the\nnovitiates, or to confer upon them a magic power over the game.[481]\nIn the therapeutic practices of primitive tribes we may find still\nmore puzzling points of controversy. The sucking cure, for instance,\nby which the medicine-man pretends to extract from the patient the\ncause of his illness in the form of some small object\u2014a pebble, a\ntuft of hair, or the like\u2014may be, as Professor Tylor thinks, a mere\n\u201cknavish trick.\u201d[482] But it is also possible, we believe, that, at\nleast originally, it may have been performed as a _bona fide_ magic,\nbased upon the notion of the efficacy of vehicles and symbolic action.\nThe method of restoring sick people and sick cattle to health by\npulling them through a narrow opening, for instance, in a tree, which\nhas been explained by most authors as a case of magical transference\nby contact\u2014_i.e._ transference of the disease from the patient and of\nthe vital power represented by the tree to him[483]\u2014ought, according\nto the brilliant hypothesis of Professor Nyrop, to be considered as a\nmagically symbolic representation of regeneration.[484]\n\nWhile leaving undecided all these subtle questions, each of which would\nrequire a chapter of its own in order to be definitively treated, we\nhave only to maintain the great probability which stands on the side of\nthe dramatic interpretation. However fantastic the belief in a magical\nconnection between similar things may appear at the outset, a continued\nethnological study must needs convince every one of its incalculable\nimportance in the life of primitive man. And such a conviction can\nonly become confirmed by an examination of the influence which this\nsuperstition has exercised on the formative arts.\n\nThe belief in picture magic is evinced by its negative as well as by\nits positive results. All over the world we meet with the fear of\nbeing depicted. In so far as this superstition has given rise to a\nprohibition of painting and sculpture, it has thus seriously arrested\nthe development of art. But, on the other hand, the same notion has\ncommonly called forth pictorial representation, the aim of which is to\ngain a power over the things and beings represented. Most frequent,\nperhaps, of all these specimens of magical art are the volts, _i.e._\nthose dolls and drawings used for bewitching, which are spoken of as\nearly as in the ancient Chaldean incantations, which are used by the\nmajority of savage tribes, and which may incidentally be found even\nnow among the European nations.[485] But owing to their necessarily\nclandestine character these charms have never exercised any important\ninfluence on the pictorial art. More important, from the historical\npoint of view, than these black and cryptic arts is the white magic\nby which social benefits are pursued. Just as the principal forms\nof magical drama correspond to the chief requirements of mankind,\nso the most important magical sculptures and paintings are found in\nconnection with agricultural rites,[486] the observances of hunting\nand fishing,[487] medical practices,[488] and ceremonies for removing\nsterility.[489] And in the same way as dramatic representation, but\nwith far greater efficacy, pictorial representation has been able\nto satisfy the highest material as well as spiritual requirement\nby bringing the deity in concrete relation with man through the\nsympathetic force of the image. The art of conjuring a spirit to take\nits abode in what is believed to be a counterfeit of its corresponding\nbody has thus given rise to the fashioning of idols and the subsequent\nadoring of them. Although essentially the same as in the simple medical\ncures and the practices of sorcery, pictorial magic has in these cases\nof idol-making exercised a more far-reaching and thorough influence on\nmankind than in any of its other manifestations.\n\nWe need not dwell at any length on the superstitions connected with\npoetic or literary descriptions of things. The universal objection\nto the mentioning of proper names is evidently based upon a belief\nin the efficacy of words. And, on the other hand, this same belief\nlies behind the equally universal use of incantations. Songs that are\nsung in order to facilitate the labour of workers and to increase the\nresult of it, poems that aim at conjuring the favour of a hard-hearted\nor indifferent woman, charms for invoking or expelling spirits, and\nmedical spells,\u2014all these forms of poetic magic are too familiar to be\nmore than mentioned.\n\nFrom the point of view of the civilised observer the above-quoted\nexamples of dramatic, pictorial, and poetic magic may seem to have\nan obvious and ready explanation. A work of art always gives to the\nspectator, and no doubt also to the creator, an illusion of reality.\nAs, moreover, primitive man is notoriously unable to distinguish\nbetween subjective and objective reality, it seems natural to assume\nthat it is the mental illusion created by his work which makes\nthe magician believe that he has acquired a power over the things\nrepresented by it. And this assumption is all the more tempting because\neven to civilised, enlightened man there is something magical in\nthe momentary satisfaction which art affords to all our unfulfilled\nlongings by its semblance of reality. Strong desire always creates for\nitself an imaginary gratification which easily leads the uncritical\nmind to a belief in the power of will over the external world. The\nwhole of art-creation may thus be looked upon as an embodiment of the\ngreatest wishes of mankind, which have sought the most convincing\nappearance of their fulfilment in the form and shape of objective\nworks. What is in us a conscious and intentional self-deception, may\nbe in the unsophisticated man a real illusion. The main psychological\naspects of the activity could not be changed by these different\nsubjective attitudes on the part of the producer. The essential point\nis that in both cases the greatest possible resemblance to the original\nwould be sought for in order to increase in the one case the magical\nefficacy of the work, in the other the pleasure to be derived from the\nillusion. The belief in a magical connection between similar things\nwould thus exercise an incalculable influence on the growth of realism\nin art. But, unfortunately, this easy explanation is not corroborated\nby an impartial examination of the lower stages of art-development.\nThe statement of M. Guaita as to the volt, _Plus la ressemblance est\ncompl\u00e8te plus le mal\u00e9fice a chance de r\u00e9ussir_,[490] does not appear\nto be borne out by the evidence. The only instance we know of in which\ngreater or less resemblance to the model is thought of as bearing on\nthe magical efficacy of a painting is that of the East Indian artists.\nWe are told that it was in order to evade the Mohammedan prohibition of\npainting that they resorted to that style of treating nature, bordering\non caricature, which is so characteristic of, say, Javanese art.[491]\nSimilarly it is by an appeal to their virtue of non-resemblance that\nartists among the Laos defend their pictures as being harmless and\ninnocent.[492] But such references to barbaric or semi-barbaric art\ndo not tell us much about the conditions prevailing at the beginning\nof art-development. The primitive man who avails himself of dolls and\ndrawings in order to bewitch is generally quite indifferent to the\nlife-like character of his magical instruments. The typical volt gives\nonly a crude outline of the human body, and, which is most remarkable,\nit does not display any likeness to the man who is to be bewitched.\nAs a rule the same vagueness can also be noticed in the paintings and\nsculptures which serve the aims of medical cure and religious cultus.\nWith due allowance for the deficient technical ability and the na\u00efve\nsuggestibility of primitive man, it seems hard to believe that illusion\ncould have been either intended or effected by the rude works of\npictorial magic. Thus it becomes doubtful whether the belief in the\nmagical power of painting and sculpture can have been based upon a\nconfusion between subjective and objective reality.\n\nThis doubt can only be increased when we see how little confidence\nprimitive men themselves put in the mere likeness as such. When M.\nRochas produced his modern imitations of the volt, he was always\nanxious to have his wax dolls sufficiently saturated by contact with\nthe person over whom they were intended to give him power.[493] And\nin this he closely followed the methods of the native sorcerers, who\ngenerally tried to increase the efficiency of their magical instruments\nby attaching to them such objects as nail-cuttings, locks of hair,\nor pieces of cloth belonging to the man to be bewitched.[494] In the\nmaking of idols we can often observe the same principle. The statue\nitself is not sacred by virtue of its form; it acquires divine power\nonly by being put in _material_ connection with the deity. The most\nobvious example is that of the West African Negroes, who, when they\nwish to transplant the wood deity from his original home to their towns\nand villages, build up a wooden doll of branches taken from the tree in\nwhich he lives.[495] The god is certainly supposed to feel a special\ntemptation to take up his abode in the idol made in his own likeness;\nbut it is evident that the material link established by the choice of\nthe wood is thought of as being of no less, perhaps even of greater,\nimportance than the resemblance. The same close and inseparable\ncombination of magic by connection and magic by similarity meets us\nin the ancestor statues of New Guinea, which contain the skull of the\ndead in hollows inside their head.[496] And although the procedure is\nmore indirect, the underlying thought is nevertheless the same in the\ncurious practices found, _e.g._, on the island of Nias. The spirit of\nthe deceased is here conducted to his statue by means of some small\nanimal which has been found in the neighbourhood of his grave.[497]\nIn none of these examples\u2014which might be supplemented by analogous\ninstances from various tribes\u2014do we see any hint of that manner of\nregarding statues and paintings which prevails among civilised men.\nWhile with us the mental impression on the spectator constitutes, so\nto speak, the object and the essential purport of the work of art, the\nmagicians and the idolaters seem to look chiefly for material power and\ninfluence in their simulacra.\n\nThe way in which pictorial art is used for curative purposes affords\nus\u2014if further proofs are wanted\u2014a still more telling example of the\ndifference between the magical and the aesthetic points of view.\nNothing could be more crude and primitive than the notions held by\nthe Navajo with regard to the salutary influences of their famous\nsand-paintings. The cure is effected, they believe, not by the\npatient\u2019s looking at the represented figures, but by his rolling\nhimself on them, or having the pigments of the mosaic applied to the\ncorresponding parts of his own body. The more of the sacred sand he\ncan thus attach to his body, the more complete is his recovery.[498]\nAmong other tribes at the same stage of development as the Navajos the\nprevailing views are almost equally materialistic.[499] And even among\nthe barbaric and semi-civilised peoples, although we do not meet with\nquite as gross superstitions, the fundamental idea of pictorial magic\nappears often to be the same. The power of a painting or a sculpture\nis thought of as something which is quite independent of its mental\neffects upon the spectator. That interpretation of sympathetic magic,\ntherefore, which to us seemed most natural, cannot possibly be applied\nto its lower forms.\n\nAs the concepts by which primitive man justifies to himself his beliefs\nand practices are naturally vague and hazy, it may seem futile to\nattempt to reconstruct his reasoning. Nothing final or definite can\nbe asserted on so obscure a topic. But we may legitimately discuss\nthe most consistent and most probable way in which to account for the\nvarious forms of sympathetic magic. And with regard to this question\nof probabilities we may rely to some extent upon the illustrative\nand suggestive analogies to primitive thought which can be found\nin scientific philosophies. For it is evident that a philosophical\ndoctrine, if it fits in with the facts of primitive superstition,\nmay be explanatory of those vague and latent notions which, without\nlogical justification or systematical arrangement, lie in the mind of\nthe magician and the idolater. Such a doctrine is presented to us in\nthe familiar emanation-theories, according to which every image of a\nthing constitutes a concrete part of that thing itself. According to\nthe clear and systematic statement of this doctrine given by the old\nEpicurean philosophers, shadows, reflections in a mirror, visions,\nand even mental representations of distant objects, are all caused by\nthin membranes, which continually detach themselves from the surface\nof all bodies and move onward in all directions through space.[500] If\nthere are such things as necessary misconceptions, this is certainly\none. Such general facts of sensuous experience as reflection, shadow,\nand mirage will naturally appear as the result of a purely material\ndecortication\u2014as in a transfer picture.[501] How near at hand this\ntheory may lie even to the modern mind appears from the curious\nfact that such a man as Balzac fell back upon it when attempting to\nexplain the newly-invented daguerreotype, that most marvellous of all\nimage-phenomena.[502]\n\nTo the primitive mind it is only natural to apply this reasoning even\nto artificial images. Whether the likeness of a thing is fashioned\nby nature in water or air, or whether it be made by man, it is in\nboth cases thought of as depriving the thing itself of some part of\nits substance. Such a notion, which cannot surprise us when met with\namong the lower savages, seems to have been at the bottom of even the\nMohammedan prohibition of the formative arts.[503] It is evident that,\nwherever images are explained in this crude manner, magic by similarity\nin reality becomes merely a case of magic by contiguity.\n\nThe materialistic thought which lies behind the belief in a solidarity\nbetween similar things appears nowhere so clearly as within the\ndepartment of pictorial magic. But we believe that its influence can\nalso be traced in all the other superstitions regarding sympathetic\ncausation. In spite of that feeling of superiority so common in nations\nwhich have no leaning towards formative arts, poetical and musical\nmagic in its lower forms is founded on quite as crude a conception as\nany idolatry or pictorial sorcery. It would indeed be unnatural if\nthe theory of corporeal emanations had not been applied to acoustic\nas well as to optical phenomena. To the unscientific mind sounds\nand reverberations are something quite synonymous with sights and\nreflections. The sounds connected with the impression of a being,\nthing, or phenomenon will therefore be conceived as being a part of\nthe being, thing, or phenomenon itself. To these easily-explained\nnotions there are to be added the peculiar superstitions entertained\nwith regard to a class of sounds which are only associated with things,\nviz. their names. To the primitive man a name literally constitutes\na part of the object it denotes. The magician may therefore get the\nmastery over the spirits he invokes and the men he bewitches by merely\nmentioning their names.[504] In many cases a most potent spell consists\nof unintelligible words, which to the conjurer himself has no meaning\nat all. In other cases, although the words really have a sense, we can\neasily observe that they are not used for the purpose of creating an\nillusion of reality. The typical incantation may indeed in a manner be\ncalled descriptive. The singer is anxious not to pass by any detail,\nthe omitting of which may be injurious to the potency of his magic. But\nthe result is only a sort of inventory, which seldom suggests a full\nand vivid mental picture. Many of the Shaman prayers and songs show us\nby their whole character that in their case at least poetical illusion\nhas had nothing to do with the belief in the power of words over\nthings.[505]\n\nThus, according to the magical-world view, a system of material\nconnections links together in close solidarity things and their images,\nsounds, or names. But this network of connections may even, we believe,\nextend further, so as to bring into its chain of causation qualities\nand actions, in short, abstract notions, which cannot be considered\nas material objects possessing material parts. Just as an image which\npresents the figure and shape of a given thing is conceived as a part\nof that thing itself, so all things which have distinctive qualities\nin common may be thought of as being parts of a common whole. As a\nfantastic but still natural product of the primitive mind, there may\nthus appear the idea of an invisible connection, which binds together\nall things similar and draws them to each other. Vaguely and dimly even\nsavages may have been able to anticipate in some measure those imposing\nthoughts which received an organised and consistent statement in the\ndoctrine of universal ideas. But to primitive man these \u201cideas\u201d must\nappear as concrete objects and beings, exercising their influence on\nphenomena in a quite material manner.\n\nTo those who are familiar with that peculiar combination of spiritual\nconceptions of the world and material conceptions of the spirit which\nmakes up the primitive cosmology, this explanation will not appear\nfar-fetched or strained. But it is to be admitted that in many cases\nit may be difficult, or even impossible, to lay one\u2019s finger on the\nelements of magic by contiguity which lie at the root of a given\ninstance of imitative witchcraft. No doubt the mental effects produced\nby the imitation on its creator and spectators will in many cases\ncontribute to the belief in its power. In the more artistic forms of\npoetic magic the suggestive power of the words replaces the brute force\nof their sound. And in dramatic magic an illusion, whether intended or\nunintended, must necessarily affect the performers as well as their\naudience. Therefore, however the psychological basis of magic may be\nexplained, it cannot be denied that in some of its developments magic\nhas become closely connected with art. The self-deceit by which we\nenjoy in art the confusion between real and unreal is indeed, by its\nintentional character, distinct from the illusion to which primitive\nman is led, more perhaps by his deficient powers of observation than by\nany strength of imaginative faculty. But still there exists a kinship,\nand that belief in an overlapping of the tangible and intangible life\nwhich is fostered by magic in the lower art affords, as it were, a\npremonition of the effects produced by imagination in the higher.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nCONCLUSIONS\n\n\nThere are several aspects of the history of art which have had to\nbe ignored in the preceding chapters. A student of ethnology, for\ninstance, will blame us because in our hasty review of primitive art\nno mention has been made of the important influence which political\ninstitutions and religious systems have exercised on the development\nof art. Nor can there be any question of denying that these factors\nought to be properly treated of in every research which aims at a\n_descriptive_ completeness. From the historical point of view indeed\nnothing could be more interesting than to pursue throughout the\ngeneral history of art that line of investigation which Mr. Posnett\nhas applied to the study of literature. Not only in the lower stages\nof culture, but also among civilised nations, one might show how in\nall its forms and branches art has been influenced for good and bad by\nthe progress of political development. Tribal drama, tribal sculpture,\nand tribal poetry might thus be instructively contrasted with the art\nof commonwealths and monarchic states. Still wider results might be\nattained by tracing those differences in types of art which arise from\ndifferences in the religious systems. But such researches, however\nimportant they might be, would not have much bearing upon the subject\nof the present work. Notwithstanding the differentiation of art-forms\nthat has arisen from the varying political and religious conditions, we\ndo not meet in these different forms with any principle of art that has\nnot been treated of already in the preceding chapters. To explain, for\ninstance, the art which serves as a means of political propitiation,\nwe need only refer to our investigation of the \u00e6sthetic forms of\nsexual selection. It is true that songs, dances, and pantomimes will\nnecessarily change in character when addressed to a chief or king\ninstead of to a woman. But the purpose\u2014to gain the favour of the\nspectator\u2014is still the same in both cases. And from this identity of\npurpose there arises a general similarity between all manifestations\nof propitiatory art, which, from our point of view, is more important\nthan the individual differences of these manifestations. As in tribes\nwhere social conditions have favoured the development of sexual\nselection erotic art acquires the distinction of attractiveness and\nsensuous beauty, so these qualities will also be prominent in the songs\nand dances by which people endeavour to conciliate the favour and\nbenevolence of a mighty ruler. And as on the lower stages of culture\nmen attribute to their gods their own likings and aversions, the\nsame qualities will naturally be found to characterise those classes\nof art by which worshippers pay their homage to a divine spectator.\nAnd, finally, as a conspicuous outcome of the motive \u201cto attract by\npleasing\u201d we meet with a similar group of dances, songs, and pantomimes\naddressed to the spirits of the deceased\u2014those spectators whose favour\nor disfavour is of paramount importance to primitive man.\n\nSide by side with this element of propitiation we find in the artistic\nmanifestations connected with funeral ceremonies examples of almost\nall those aspects of art to which attention has been called in the\npreceding chapters. The purpose of information is represented by\npictorial, poetic, or dramatic representations in which the doings\nof the deceased are displayed before the survivors.[506] The dances\nand songs may in many cases be reasonably explained as aiming at a\nstimulation of the spirit, which certainly needs an increase of force\nin order to surmount all the hardships and the weary wanderings of\nits transitional life.[507] In other cases funeral art is evidently\nintended to produce upon invisible enemies the same kind of terrifying\neffects which have already been spoken of in connection with military\npaintings and pantomimes.[508] And, lastly, it is probably in the\nendeavour to exert a sympathetic influence upon the combats which the\ndeceased must undergo before he can attain his peace and rest that the\nsurvivors hold magical sham-fights and tugs of war over his grave.[509]\nThus in this one branch of art we can see how each of the sociological\nart-principles is of much wider applicability than has been possible\nto trace within the limits of this work. But, on the other hand, the\ncrucial instance of funeral art shows us how even in such artistic\nmanifestations as at the outset appear to be quite irreducible we may\nby a closer investigation reveal the influence of those general factors\nwhich have been selected for treatment in the preceding chapters. And\ntherefore, without entering upon a detailed examination of all the\nvarying forms of art, we feel entitled to hold that the utilitarian\nmotives of information, propitiation, stimulation, and magical\nefficiency afford a sufficiently complete list\u2014from a theoretical point\nof view\u2014of the most important non-\u00e6sthetic factors that have favoured\nthe development of art.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe attentive reader will probably have remarked that those very\naspects of art with which we have been engaged in the latter part\nof this work broadly correspond to some of the most important\ninterpretations of the art-impulse offered by \u00e6sthetic theories. To\ngive information\u2014that is, to widen our knowledge of nature and life;\nto propitiate\u2014that is, to flatter our senses by the display of beauty;\nto stimulate\u2014that is, to heighten our vital energy, and thus make life\neasier to live and life\u2019s work easier to perform; to work magic\u2014that\nis, to produce an illusion of reality capable of leading to a confusion\nbetween the subjective and objective world;\u2014these are all purposes\nwhich have been represented as essential to art. From our summary\ninvestigation of primitive art it has, we hope, appeared how fully\nwe admit the close connection of these purposes with the historical\ndevelopment of art. And it might be shown, if our investigation were\npursued into the later stages of development, that art on its highest\nplane still bears the same relation to concrete utilities as it does on\nthe lowest. Art never ceases to inform, never ceases to please, never\nceases to stimulate, never loses something of a magical efficacy. But\nwhile acknowledging the importance of all these purposes, we have,\non the other hand, to maintain the view which was set out in the\npsychological chapters of the opening\u2014that it is only by assuming an\nindependent art-impulse that we can explain the essential character of\nart. To make plain the distinction between these two points of view it\nis advisable to summarise in brief the arguments of either part of our\ninvestigation.\n\nIn the first chapters the writer attempted to show that the art-impulse\nin its broadest sense must be taken as an outcome of the natural\ntendency of every feeling-state to manifest itself externally, the\neffect of such a manifestation being to heighten the pleasure and to\nrelieve the pain. We found in this fact the primary source of art\nas an individual impulse. But art is essentially social; and this\nalso we explained on psychological grounds. The secondary effect of\nthe exteriorisation of a feeling-state is to awaken similar feelings\nin other human beings who perceive the manifestation; and their\nsympathetic feeling acts upon the author of the original manifestation,\nheightening in him the feeling-state which gave rise to it.\n\nNow, all works of art have a common element notwithstanding their\ndiversity. They express, each in their own medium, a mood or moods of\nthe artist; they arise, that is, out of the impulse to expression,\nwhich is as primitive as feeling itself. Every man seeks automatically\nto heighten his feelings of pleasure and to relieve his feelings of\npain. The artist is the man who finds that he can gain such enhancement\nor relief, not only by the direct action of giving expression to his\nfeeling, but also by arousing a kindred feeling in others. Hence\noriginates in him that desire to transmit his moods to an external\naudience which must be regarded as the simplest and most primordial\ninducement to artistic production. And also as a further means of\nrealising the same purpose there arises the endeavour to give the\nartistic product\u2014that is to say, the externalised expression of his\nmood\u2014a form which may facilitate the revival of the original state in\nan ever wider circle of sympathisers. Thus from the reflex outlet for a\nstrong emotional pressure we are led to a deliberate creation, in which\nthe intellectual and volitional elements preponderate increasingly over\nthe automatic, emotional impulse. But from this gain in consciousness\nthere does not result any change in the essential character of the\nartistic activity. However great the difference between the highest\nforms of art, such as, for instance, a drama or a sculpture, and the\nprimitive dance-pantomime, the underlying impulse is still the same in\nboth cases. Perpetuation\u2014that is, expression which is addressed to a\nfictitious audience\u2014can only be explained by reference to the enhancing\nand relieving effects which man has experienced as results of emotional\ntransmission. And all the intentional activities, the artistic\ncomposition, the artistic technique, and so on, by which perpetuation\nis secured can thus be regarded as subservient to the emotionalistic\npurpose. Moreover, these same activities, however unemotional they\nmay be in themselves, will enable the artist to extort an increased\nemotional value from his \u201cmotives\u201d; for instance, the greater a man\u2019s\nskill in suggesting the peculiar thrill of colour, the greater will\nbe his pleasure in colour itself. Technical excellency, which to the\noutsider is a cold and neutral thing, may thus to the artist and to\nthe intelligent critic be full of expressional significance. From\nwhichever point of view we may look at art, we shall have to interpret\nits central and essential characteristics in terms of feeling. In this\nway we can account for it as a self-sufficing, or as we have said,\nautotelic activity. And in this way only can we explain the strength of\nthat compelling force which urges an artist to an exertion from which\nhe derives no external utility.\n\nBut it cannot be contended that primitive human nature furnishes not\nonly the impulse to expression but also the medium. The artist in man\nhad the feeling; he had to discover a way to exteriorise it. Nearest\nperhaps to primitive art lie the immediate manifestations by regulated\ngesture and regulated sounds of the voice, which are also in their\nhighest development the most potent means for transmitting an emotion.\nYet the different utilities of life offered also other means\u2014as it\nwere, words of a language\u2014in which the feeling could express itself\nand transmit itself from mind to mind. The man who used drawing as a\nmeans of communicating thoughts could express in a drawing the terror\nwhich a beast inspired or the delight he had derived from watching its\nmovements. And just as the purpose of imparting information\u2014whether by\nword or image\u2014afforded a natural medium through which the art-impulse\ncould work to its own ends, so also the purpose of propitiation\nafforded in dance or decoration something which might be diverted\nfrom its original object and be used with the single intention of\nexpressing, for instance, the dancer\u2019s mood. Similarly each of the\nother purposes that have been discussed or alluded to afforded, as\nit were, a concrete material for art\u2014a shape in which the primitive\nimpulse to gesture could embody and develop itself. And beyond the\nfact that art has been obliged to avail itself of media which have\noriginally been called into existence by utilitarian, non-\u00e6sthetic\nneeds, there lies another fact. To these external \u201corigins\u201d we can also\ntrace some of the most important qualities which we appreciate in a\nwork of art. In this way it is open to us to explain how several of\nthe virtues of art, as we know it, may be derived from the primitive\nneeds which it subserved; how, for instance, the lucidity of art may\nfind its explanation in art\u2019s use for conveying information; how the\nsensuous and attractive qualities of all art may be traced to the need\nfor propitiating favour; how the power that resides in art to brace and\nstimulate the mind may be transmitted from the days when the artist was\nappointed to nerve his fellows for work or war. And, lastly, it might\nbe argued that a most characteristic quality of art, the imagination,\nwhich is in a sense faith in the reality of the unreal (whether native\nto the human mind or not), may have been immensely heightened by the\nuse of art for purposes of magic, which fuses the visible and the\ninvisible.\n\nThere is thus suggested a further point. We were able to derive those\nqualities of artistic composition, which in all \u00e6sthetic systems\nhave been insisted on as the most primordial, from the distinctive\nqualities of the self-sufficing art-impulse, by showing how the\nunity, the concentration, and the subordination of parts to a whole\ncorrespond to the unity of a feeling-state which it is the object\nof the art-impulse to convey and to perpetuate in its entirety. On\nthe other hand, we are forced to acknowledge that by the side of\nthese primordial qualities there exist certain secondary qualities\nwhich have been of great importance in facilitating and securing the\ntransmission and perpetuation of the original feeling-state; and we\nhave shown how these qualities arise out of the vassalage by which art\nin its historical development has been bound to the necessities and\nutilities of practical life. For those who crave a theoretical basis\nfor the estimation of art there is offered a field of research in the\ncomparison and relative valuation of these two orders of qualities. By\nstudying the alternate influences which the primary and the derived\nfactors have exercised on the character of works of art, it may even be\npossible to lay down a kind of scale by which to rank general qualities\nas well as individual manifestations. But all this train of thought,\nthough cognate to our inquiry, is not a part of it. This book has aimed\nsimply to give an answer to the question, How did art originate? To\nthose minds which see no value in an \u00e6sthetic inquiry that neither\npurposes to offer guidance for the artist in producing works of art,\nnor for the student in appreciating them, the whole discussion may\nprobably appear futile. The author on his part has thought that such\ninvestigation into an important and typical human energy must be of\ninterest at least, if not of value. But upon the practical question it\nis his personal opinion that the loss would be greater than the gain\nif theories and judgments based upon philosophical considerations were\nallowed to influence either the production or the enjoyment of art.\n\n\n\n\n                          AUTHORITIES QUOTED\n\n\n Abbott, Charles C., Primitive Industry: or, Illustrations of the\n Handiwork of the Native Races of the Northern Atlantic Seaboard of\n America. Salem, Mass. 1881.\n\n Abercromby, John, The Pre-and Proto-historic Finns, both Eastern and\n Western, with the Magic Songs of the West Finns. I.-II. London, 1898.\n\n Abhandlungen der K\u00f6niglich. s\u00e4chsischen Gesellschaft der\n Wissenschaften. Leipzig.\n\n Abhandlungen und Berichte des K\u00f6nigl. zoologischen und\n anthropologisch-ethnographischen Museums zu Dresden. Berlin.\n\n Academy, The. London.\n\n Acosta, Joseph de, The Natural and Moral History of the Indies. Trans.\n ed. by C. R. Markham. I.-II. 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Berlin.\n\n Zeitschrift f\u00fcr V\u00f6lkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft. Leipzig.\n\n Ziemssen, H. von, Cyclop\u00e6dia of the Practice of Medicine. Transl.\n I.-XVIII. London, 1875-1881.\n\n Zoysa, Louis de, Note on the Origin of the Veddas, with a few\n Specimens of their Songs and Charms. In Journal of the Ceylon Branch\n of the Royal Asiatic Society, 1881. Vol. VII. Part II.\n\n\n\n\n                           INDEX OF AUTHORS\n\n\n  Abbott, 287\n\n  Abercromby, 173\n\n  Acosta, 252, 266\n\n  Agrippa, 282\n\n  Ahlqvist, 159, 211\n\n  Allen, 8, 194\n\n  Amiel, 32, 38\n\n  Andree, 176, 280, 294\n\n  Angas, 67, 220, 259, 266, 270\n\n  Archer, 53\n\n  Aristotle, 23\n\n  Aubry, 82\n\n\n  Bailey, 237\n\n  Bain, 32, 33, 44\n\n  Baker, 236\n\n  Baldwin, 14, 24, 25, 79\n\n  Balfour, 147\n\n  Bancroft, 270, 272\n\n  Barrington, 198\n\n  Bartels, 67\n\n  Bashkirtseff, 61\n\n  Batchelor, 67, 159\n\n  Baumgarten, 1, 2\n\n  Beccari, 195\n\n  Beecham, 265\n\n  Berchon, 233\n\n  B\u00e9renger-F\u00e9raud, 278, 283, 284, 286\n\n  Bernays, 60\n\n  Bernier, 67\n\n  Bidwill, 262, 264, 269\n\n  Binet, 81, 197\n\n  Binger, 226, 287\n\n  Blumentritt, 234, 235, 266\n\n  Boccaccio, 68\n\n  Bock, 227, 290\n\n  B\u00f6hme, 252\n\n  Bonghi, 283\n\n  Bonwick, 159, 160\n\n  Bosanquet, 2\n\n  Bouillier, 32, 37, 51\n\n  Bourget, 122\n\n  Bourgoing, 89\n\n  Bourke, 67, 169\n\n  Brehm, 84, 189, 199\n\n  Brenner, 234, 235, 259, 291\n\n  Bridges, 165\n\n  Bri\u00e8re, 283\n\n  Brinton, 63, 67, 156, 174, 211, 212, 236, 285\n\n  Broca, 252\n\n  Brown, Baldwin, 111\n\n  Brown, John, 94, 185\n\n  B\u00fccher, 88, 106, 254, 255, 257, 259\n\n  B\u00fcchner, 194, 243\n\n  Buckland, 226\n\n  Buffon, 192\n\n  Burchell, 222\n\n  Burke, 77\n\n  Burton, 152, 179, 224, 233, 251, 252, 254, 259, 266\n\n\n  Cahusac, 94, 266\n\n  Calmeil, 61\n\n  Calvert, 267\n\n  Cameron, 182\n\n  Campanella, 77\n\n  Campbell, 263\n\n  Carlyle, 123\n\n  Carpenter, 134\n\n  Carver, 92, 183, 266\n\n  Casalis, 262, 266, 285, 287\n\n  Castr\u00e9n, 285\n\n  Catlin, 11\n\n  Chamisso, 159\n\n  Champfleury, 68\n\n  Chappuy, 159\n\n  Charcot and Richer, 109\n\n  Chardin, 254\n\n  Clapperton, 158\n\n  Clavigero, 271\n\n  Clercq, de, 291\n\n  Codrington, 165, 175\n\n  Colden, 266\n\n  Collins, 182, 285\n\n  Combarieu, 108\n\n  Cook, 66, 158, 166, 233, 236, 245, 246, 262, 264, 266, 267, 269\n\n  Cornish, 194\n\n  Crane, 184\n\n  Cranz, 66, 152, 165\n\n  Crawley, 218, 244\n\n  Creuzer, 107\n\n  Cruickshank, 160, 175\n\n  Cruise, 262\n\n  Curr, 67, 152, 159, 226, 235, 246, 279\n\n  Czervinski, 266\n\n\n  Dale, 182\n\n  Dall, 66\n\n  Dalton, 234, 262, 283, 300\n\n  Darwin, 32, 33, 48, 187, 189, 191, 194, 195, 198, 201, 232, 238\n\n  Davy, 237\n\n  Day, 67, 160\n\n  Delb\u0153uf, 35\n\n  Deschamps, 237\n\n  Dieffenbach, 225, 236, 254, 279\n\n  Digby, 281\n\n  Dobrizhoffer, 180, 226, 268\n\n  D\u00fcben, 79\n\n  Dumont, 32, 35\n\n  Dupuis, 267\n\n  Dyer, 111\n\n\n  Earle, 154, 262, 276\n\n  Ehrenreich, 160\n\n  Elliot, 224\n\n  Ellis, A. B., 220, 224, 226, 233, 279, 291, 295\n\n  Ellis, Havelock, 19, 218\n\n  Ellis, W., 66, 179, 233, 244, 262, 267, 268\n\n  Elworthy, 217\n\n  Emmanuel, 106, 109\n\n  Engel, 24, 95\n\n  Erman, 160, 174\n\n  Espinas, 84, 188, 192, 199\n\n  Eyre, 160, 233, 268\n\n\n  Faguet, 59\n\n  Farrer, 271, 285\n\n  Fechner, 40\n\n  F\u00e9r\u00e9, 30, 40, 44, 94, 199, 252, 256, 257\n\n  Fewkes, 170\n\n  Figuier, 61\n\n  Finsch, 175, 215, 216, 220, 227, 269, 272\n\n  Fison, 182\n\n  Flaubert, 40\n\n  Forbes, Fr. E., 179, 251, 262\n\n  Forbes, H. O., 180, 235\n\n  Fornander, 161, 178\n\n  Fouill\u00e9e, 76\n\n  Fraser, 153, 225, 262, 284\n\n  Frazer, 182, 219, 226, 278, 279, 280, 283, 284, 287, 293\n\n  Freycinet, 67\n\n  Fritsch, 216, 237, 248, 262, 263\n\n  Fytche, 226\n\n\n  Gaidoz, 286\n\n  Gason, 67, 283\n\n  Gautier, 4\n\n  Geddes and Thomson, 189\n\n  Gill, 160, 178, 179, 233, 244, 255\n\n  Godden, 222, 226\n\n  Godfernaux, 44, 94\n\n  Goethe, 105\n\n  Goncourt, 40, 68, 80\n\n  Gooneratne, 291\n\n  Gratiolet, 32\n\n  Grey, 159, 178, 267\n\n  Grimm, 283, 284\n\n  Groos, 20, 26, 27, 59, 75, 78, 108, 146, 156, 172, 197, 199,\n    200, 232, 261\n\n  Grosse, 8, 87, 92, 225, 270\n\n  Grove, 254, 284\n\n  Guaita, 289\n\n  Gurney, 230\n\n  Guyau, 8, 13, 19, 28\n\n\n  Haddon, 147, 184, 225, 287, 300\n\n  Hall, 220\n\n  Hamilton, Aug., 275\n\n  Hamilton, W., 33, 37, 51, 54\n\n  Hanslick, 7\n\n  Hansson, 122\n\n  Harless, 80\n\n  Harnack, 130, 136\n\n  Hartland, 67, 219, 278, 280, 284\n\n  Hecker, 68\n\n  Heckewelder, 266\n\n  Hein, 271, 273, 274\n\n  Hellwald, 197\n\n  Helvetius, 61\n\n  Hemsterhuis, 122\n\n  Hennequin, 8\n\n  Herckenrath, 59\n\n  Heriot, 225, 268\n\n  Hernsheim, 262\n\n  Hickson, 235\n\n  Higgins, 169\n\n  Hill, 111\n\n  Hill and Thornton, 237\n\n  Hirn, 36, 46, 54, 116, 169, 170, 199, 275\n\n  Hirth, 135\n\n  Hoffman, 176\n\n  Hoffmeister, 237\n\n  Hogarth, 76\n\n  Holmes, Edm., 134\n\n  Holmes, William H., 147\n\n  Holub, 237\n\n  Holz, 117\n\n  Home, 76, 155\n\n  Howitt, 182\n\n  Hudson, 26, 198, 231\n\n  Humboldt, 212\n\n  Hyades, 164, 165, 237\n\n\n  Im Thurn, 158, 176, 226\n\n\n  Jacobowski, 94\n\n  Jagor, 235\n\n  James, 44, 48, 51-53\n\n  Jefferies, 61\n\n  Joest, 66, 212, 220, 222, 233, 234, 267, 272\n\n  Johnston, 226, 244, 246, 248\n\n  Johnstone, 92, 248, 276\n\n  Jouffroy, 75\n\n\n  Kane, 167\n\n  Kant, 2, 8, 32\n\n  Keating, 67\n\n  Kidd, 248\n\n  Kierkegaard, 38, 63\n\n  Kingsley, 152, 159, 174, 224, 226\n\n  Kirby, 220\n\n  Kleinpaul, 217\n\n  Kleinschmidt, 165, 262\n\n  Koeler, 225, 233\n\n  Kolbe, 263\n\n  Kollman, 257\n\n  Kotzebue, 159, 279\n\n  Kreemer, 284\n\n  Kubary, 220, 221, 265\n\n  Kussmaul, 151\n\n\n  Lafitau, 262\n\n  Lagrange, 256\n\n  Laing, 180, 217, 233, 259\n\n  Landa, de, 291\n\n  Lander, 67, 158, 226\n\n  Lang, A., 67, 279, 283\n\n  Lang, G., 237, 266\n\n  Lange, Carl, 44, 54, 62, 97\n\n  Lange, Julius, 105, 134\n\n  Le Bon, 82\n\n  Leconte de Lisle, 137\n\n  Lehmann, 31, 33, 34, 46, 54, 58\n\n  Lenormant, 287\n\n  Lenz, 160, 255\n\n  Lessing, 60\n\n  Lethermann, 166\n\n  Letourneau, 271\n\n  Levertin, 159\n\n  Lewin, 234, 235, 254, 262, 300\n\n  Lichtenberg, 96\n\n  Lichtenstein, 11\n\n  Lindsay, 194\n\n  Lippert, 209, 212, 224\n\n  Lipps, 75, 76\n\n  Lisiansky, 216\n\n  Livingstone, 265\n\n  Lloyd, G. T., 167\n\n  Lloyd, L., 189\n\n  Lobeck, 59, 65\n\n  Logau, 38\n\n  Lombroso, 40\n\n  Lubbock, 166, 174, 220\n\n  Lucretius, 293\n\n  Lukianos, 266\n\n  Lumholtz, 67, 285\n\n  L\u00fctke, 220, 245, 262\n\n\n  Macpherson, 270\n\n  Magitot, 208\n\n  Mallery, 151, 152, 153, 156, 157, 176, 227\n\n  Man, 67, 222, 224\n\n  Maning, 270\n\n  Mann, 265\n\n  Mantegazza, 32, 50, 229, 267\n\n  March, 10, 134, 147\n\n  Markham, 179, 236, 254\n\n  Marques, 233, 262\n\n  Marryat, 274\n\n  Marsden, 219, 234, 235\n\n  Marshall, H. R., 6, 22, 24, 25, 34, 35-37, 40, 54, 57, 66\n\n  Marshall, W. E., 224\n\n  Martial, 164\n\n  Martin, 92, 235\n\n  Mason, 255\n\n  Mathew, 159, 233\n\n  Mathews, 233, 247\n\n  Matthews, 166, 292, 295\n\n  Maupassant, 94\n\n  Metz, 159, 217\n\n  Meyer, 177\n\n  Michelet, 40, 68, 110\n\n  Mill, 100\n\n  Milton, 282\n\n  Mitchell, 261\n\n  Moli\u00e8re, 64\n\n  Mollien, 160\n\n  Mooney, 172\n\n  Morgan, 11, 236, 266\n\n  Moseley, 216\n\n  Motolinia, 287\n\n  Mouat, 67\n\n  M\u00fcller, Fr., 233, 234\n\n  Muller, H., 259\n\n  Mulsant, 196\n\n  Mundy, 262\n\n  Musters, 279\n\n\n  Nachtigal, 233\n\n  Nagele, 271\n\n  Nevill, 237\n\n  Nietzsche, 103, 113\n\n  Nilsson, 189, 194, 201\n\n  Noir\u00e9, 255\n\n  Nyrop, 286\n\n\n  Oldfield, 158\n\n  Oviedo, 179\n\n\n  Papin, 281\n\n  Paracelsus, 282, 285\n\n  Parker, 182\n\n  Paulhan, 44, 51\n\n  P\u00e9ron, 67\n\n  Perraud, 108\n\n  Peschel, 285\n\n  Petherick, 160\n\n  Poe, 122\n\n  Polack, 92, 159, 175, 179, 257, 270, 272\n\n  Posnett, 179, 276, 298\n\n  Poulton, 201\n\n  Powers, 262, 284, 287\n\n  Preller, 65\n\n  Preyer, 80\n\n  Pritchard, 67, 179, 268\n\n\n  Quilter, 131\n\n\n  Raffles, 290\n\n  Rafinesque, 156\n\n  Ralston, 283, 284\n\n  Rapp, 112\n\n  Ratzel, 218, 259\n\n  Read, 10\n\n  Reade, 11, 254\n\n  R\u00e9clus, 59, 173, 217, 293, 300\n\n  Reeves, 245, 262\n\n  Rengger, 253\n\n  Ribot, 40, 44, 63, 188\n\n  Richardson, 270\n\n  Rienzi, 92, 160, 233, 235, 259\n\n  Ritchie, 12\n\n  Robley, 66, 175, 222, 225\n\n  Rochas, 280, 281, 287, 290, 294\n\n  Rohde, 112\n\n  Romanes, 151, 194\n\n  Romilly, 165, 244, 272, 287\n\n  Roth, Ling, 67, 224\n\n  Roth, W. E., 153, 158, 216, 226, 237, 283\n\n  Ruskin, 6, 107, 181, 134\n\n\n  St. John, 160\n\n  Salvado, 254, 267\n\n  Sarasin, 224, 237, 244\n\n  Savage, 244\n\n  Sayce, 151, 153\n\n  Scherer, 60\n\n  Schiller, 8, 26\n\n  Schlegel, 87\n\n  Schmeltz, 175, 217, 220\n\n  Schmidkunz, 74, 79, 257\n\n  Schmidt, 237\n\n  Schneider, G. H., 192, 199\n\n  Schneider, W., 66, 160, 217, 222\n\n  Schomburgk, 265\n\n  Schoolcraft, 66, 166, 183, 265, 266, 276\n\n  Sch\u00fcrmann, 233\n\n  Schurtz, 206, 217, 218, 246, 291\n\n  Schweinfurth, 175, 268\n\n  Scott, 238\n\n  Seckendorff, 95\n\n  Selenka, 235, 274, 284, 287\n\n  Seneca, 24\n\n  Shelley, 59\n\n  Shooter, 179, 268\n\n  Shortland, 154, 225, 259, 262\n\n  Sirr, 217\n\n  Sittl, 59\n\n  Skeat, 283, 287, 290, 291\n\n  Smith, Adam, 74, 84\n\n  Smith, E. R., 255\n\n  Smyth, 66, 224, 259, 262\n\n  Soldi, 284\n\n  Somerville, 217\n\n  Souriau, 89, 256\n\n  Sparrman, 233, 263\n\n  Spencer and Gillen, 152, 167, 173, 219, 226, 233, 237, 280\n\n  Spencer, Herbert, 8, 21, 26, 37, 48, 49, 51, 67, 76, 79, 92, 109,\n    165, 166, 170, 179, 198, 222, 226, 229, 246, 248, 253, 258, 259,\n    261, 263, 267, 268, 279, 287\n\n  Sproat, 267\n\n  Stanley, 77\n\n  Starcke, 226\n\n  Stein, 130, 136\n\n  Steinen, 153, 156, 161, 168, 176, 216, 222, 224, 226, 268\n\n  Stern, 75\n\n  Stevens, 224\n\n  Stevenson, M. C., 283, 284\n\n  Stevenson, T. E., 284\n\n  Stewart, 53, 74, 76, 77, 80, 153\n\n  Stirling, 152, 226, 227\n\n  Stokes, 227\n\n  Stoll, 61, 79, 285, 292\n\n  Stolpe, 10, 223\n\n  Stout, 36, 37, 44\n\n  Strange, 196\n\n  Stricker, 77\n\n  Sturt, 79\n\n  Sully, 54, 57\n\n  Sully-Prudhomme, 95, 99\n\n  Svoboda, A., 217, 300\n\n  Svoboda, W., 177\n\n  Swettenham, 79\n\n  Symons, 122\n\n\n  Taine, 6, 23, 118, 119, 130, 131, 134\n\n  Taplin, 159, 160, 224, 226, 233, 251\n\n  Tarde, 74, 94, 149, 287\n\n  Taylor, 59, 66, 67, 287\n\n  Tennent, 237\n\n  Tennyson, 64\n\n  Tetens, 220, 262\n\n  Thompson, 76, 91, 97\n\n  Thomson, 254, 262, 268\n\n  Tolstoy, 134\n\n  Turner, 233, 254\n\n  Tylor, 151, 152, 153, 155, 172, 219, 285\n\n\n  Vancouver, 233\n\n  Van Dyke, 139\n\n  Van Ende, 84, 198\n\n  Varigny, 161\n\n  Vernon Lee, 76, 91, 97\n\n  Vischer, Fr. Th., 6, 23, 118\n\n  Vischer, Robert, 75\n\n  Vodskov, 259\n\n\n  Wagner, 70, 124\n\n  Waitz, 217\n\n  Walhouse, 291\n\n  Walkley, 59\n\n  Wallace, 12, 26, 189, 190, 191, 192, 198\n\n  Wallaschek, 12, 87, 106, 230, 261, 263\n\n  Ward, 183, 226\n\n  Weddel, 79\n\n  Welcker, 59\n\n  Westermarck, 190, 193, 205, 209, 212, 215, 216, 220, 227\n\n  Weston, 283\n\n  Wilken, 216, 222\n\n  Williams, 165, 262, 283\n\n  Wilson and Felkin, 158\n\n  Winterbottom, 254, 285\n\n  Wissman, 254\n\n  Woldt, 287\n\n  Wood, 152, 265, 268, 269, 270, 271\n\n  Woods, 159, 160, 224, 233, 251, 262, 279, 283\n\n  Wundt, 62, 221\n\n  Wuttke, 222, 223, 224, 226, 271\n\n  Wzn, 291\n\n\n  Zacher, 284\n\n  Ziegler, 200\n\n  Zoysa, de, 237\n\n\n\n\n                           INDEX OF SUBJECTS\n\n\n  Acquired pleasure-gettings, 57\n\n  Acting, psychology of, 52, 53\n\n  Activity and feeling, 32-35;\n    activity involved in _dolce far niente_, 37\n\n  \u00c6sthetic, its position as a science, 1, 2, 4, 5;\n    its development 1-3;\n    its methods, 5, 6\n    feelings, 141\n    judgment, presupposing some degree of intellectual and moral\n      development, 188\n    of the hen, 187;\n    its development in apparent conflict with natural selection, 189\n\n  Agricultural rites, 287\n\n  An\u00e6sthesia and self-woundings, 61-65\n\n  Ancestor worship, 175\n\n  Anger, 47, 48, 54, 62\n\n  Animal display, 186-202\n\n  Animating idols, means of, 291\n\n  Aphasia, 151\n\n  Apolline serenity _versus_ Dionysiac rapture, 105\n\n  Architecture, the, of the Dyaks, 274;\n    of the Maoris, 275\n\n  Art, as explained by supernatural causes, 12;\n    as excitement and sedative, 70, 71;\n    as connected with sexual selection, 203-213;\n    its higher and lower forms, 140\n    the, of animals, 202\n    the reliever, 102-110\n\n  Art-impulse, the, 15, 18-29, 84, 85, 100, 101, 303;\n    a racial possession of mankind, 21, 22;\n    intellectualistic definitions, 23\n\n  Art-sense, the conditions of its development, 141, 142\n\n  Artistic intuition, 125\n\n  Association between pleasure and activity, 33\n\n  Attract by pleasing, impulse to, 24, 25, 186, 187, 214, 215, 233 _sq._\n\n  \u201cAttractive\u201d qualities of the work of art, 99\n\n  Autotelic activities outside the department of art, 19, 20;\n    character of art, 7-15, 88, 304\n\n\n  \u201cBalls on sockets,\u201d 193\n\n  Bird-shaped amulets, 287\n\n  Boasting adornments, 222\n\n  Boating-songs and dances, 259, 260\n\n  Brilliancy, the physiological effects created by, 194-197\n\n\n  Choral dances, 261\n\n  Chorus, the, in the ancient drama, 94\n\n  Classification of instances of erotic art, 231-238\n\n  Clothing, the origin of, 204-206, 215-220\n\n  _Cognitio sensitiva_, 2\n\n  Collective feeling, 81, 82\n    psychology, 74-85\n\n  Consciousness of self, 62-64\n\n  Contempt, expression of, its importance in primitive tactics, 268, 269\n\n  Couvade, 280\n\n  Coyness of the female, 197, 198\n\n  Creation, artistic, involved in artistic enjoyment, 18, 19\n\n  Criterion of art, the, 7 _sq._\n\n  Crying feasts and ceremonial wailings, 59\n\n  Cure, medical, of restoring people by pulling them through a narrow\n    opening, 285, 286\n\n\n  Dance, 87, 89, 92, 230\n\n  Dances, choral, 262;\n    common to both sexes or separate, 230, 231;\n    connected with sexual selection, 233-235;\n    with war, 266, 267;\n    with work, 251, 253, 254\n\n  Dance-pantomimes, obscene, 233, 245\n\n  Dancing girdles, 215\n\n  Deaf-mutes, their language, 151, 155\n\n  Death and resurrection represented in primitive drama, 182-184\n\n  Decoration, bodily, subserving a commemorative purpose, 223;\n    used as a means of frightening, 272;\n    as a means of individual and tribal identification, 225-227;\n    as magical protection, 218, 224;\n    denotes civic majority, 220;\n    executed in order to protect the skin, 224;\n    denoting rank or wealth, 222\n\n  Decorative art, the, of military tribes, 277\n\n  Demon-shields of the Dyaks, 272-274\n\n  Dignity, 116\n\n  Dionysiac state, the, 64, 65, 105, 109, 112, 113\n\n  Dionysos, god of art and music, 110\n\n  Disinterestedness, the, of artistic activity. _See_ Autotelic\n    Character of Art\n\n  Drama, the earliest of imitative arts, 149, 150\n\n  Dramatic element, the, of art, 95-98\n\n\n  \u201cEinhaltsstreben,\u201d 150\n\n  Emanations, magic theory of, 281, 293\n\n  Emotional element, the, in art, 137-139, 303\n\n  Emotions, the psychology of, 42-55;\n    connection between emotions and movement-sensations, 44-47\n\n  Enjoyment of pain, 55, 56-71\n\n  Enlistment, dances of, 266\n\n  Ephemeral character of primitive art, 161\n\n  Epic element, the, in art, 98, 99\n\n  Epidemics, mental, 69, 81\n\n  Erotic art, 238-248;\n    dearth of information on, 229, 244;\n    spurious instances of, 245\n    gestures and pantomimes used as expressions of joy, 243, 244\n    pantomimes and dances performed with a moral intention, 247, 248\n    poems, 235, 236, 246\n    propitiation, 234-236\n\n  Etiological myths, 171, 172\n\n  Euhemerism, 168, 169\n\n  Europeans as subjects of primitive art, 160, 166, 167, 178\n\n  Experimentation, plays of, 145\n\n  Expression of feeling, 41, 42, 47-54;\n    primary and secondary forms of expression, 42, 47, 52, 68, 69, 199;\n    expression as a mythogenic factor, 93, 94\n\n  \u201cExpressive qualities,\u201d the, of nature, 98\n\n  Extempore design, 156, 161\n\n\n  \u201cFacult\u00e9 ma\u00eetresse,\u201d 118-120, 126\n\n  Fandango, apologue concerning the, 89\n\n  Fascination, 103\n\n  Fear, 52, 54, 103\n\n  Feeling-tone of sensation, 30-42;\n    experiments on sensation, feeling and movement, 31;\n    dynamic conditions of feeling, 32-35;\n    static conditions of feeling, 35;\n    association between pleasure and movement, 33;\n    pains of restriction, 38;\n    pain as motor incitement, 40, 66, 253;\n    relative character of pleasure and pain, 56, 57;\n    acquired pleasure-gettings, 57;\n    the philosophical importance of pain, 63, 64\n\n  Festal development of art, 111\n\n  \u201cForeign\u201d purposes, the, in art, 10-12, 15-17, 127, 147, 148, 301,\n    304-306\n\n  Form and content, 139\n\n  French and English art, difference between, 131\n\n  Funeral ceremonies and art, 300\n    dances of obscene character, 217\n\n\n  Garrick, the contagious power of his acting, 96\n\n  Gesture-language, 151-154\n\n  Gracefulness, 116, 275, 276\n\n  Grief, 50\n\n  Grimacing, its importance for primitive tactics, 270\n\n  \u201cGymnastic\u201d dances, 92\n\n\n  \u201cHappiness\u201d of the unconscious, 69, 70\n\n  Higher and lower forms of art, distinction between, 140\n\n  Historical art, 164-182, 223\n    and psychological methods, distinction between, 16, 112, 148, 301\n    poems used in magical ceremonies, 173\n\n  History born of pride, 181\n\n  Histrionic factor in literature, 96;\n    in formative arts, 96, 97\n\n  \u201cHomo sapiens ferus,\u201d 151\n\n  Humiliation, 46, 50\n\n  Hunting and fishing rites, 285, 287\n\n\n  Idea, the, its place in German-\u00e6sthetic systems, 23, 118\n\n  Ideal of beauty, the, and sexual selection, 202, 213, 241, 242\n\n  Idealistic schools of art, 132\n\n  Idols, 174, 288, 291\n\n  \u201cIllusions particuli\u00e8res\u201d _versus_ essential qualities, 128, 129\n\n  Imitation, impulse to, 24;\n    connected with the instincts, 75\n    sympathetic, 59, 74-85, 96\n    _See_ Internal Imitation, Pathologic Imitation\n\n  Impregnation by wind, rain, or sunshine, 219\n\n  Indispensability of accustomed sensations, 58\n\n  _In effigie_ sentences, 287\n\n  Information and art, 149-163, 184, 185\n\n  Instantaneous muscular exertion, power of, 252, 253\n\n  Insular life, its influence on art, 259\n\n  Intellectual elements of the artistic activity;\n    their influence on the mental state of the artist, 102-107\n\n  Invention in primitive art, 160, 161\n\n\n  Jakalele dance in Ceram, 266, 267\n\n  Joy, 48;\n    distinguished from the sense of comic, 48, 49;\n    pantomimic expression of, 92-94, 244\n\n\n  \u201cKina\u201d (Fuegian drama), 165\n\n\n  Limited amount of energy, 36, 37\n\n  Lustre. _See_ Brilliancy\n\n  Luxury of sentimental sorrow, 51.\n    _See also_ Enjoyment of Pain\n\n  Lyre and flute, allegory of, 107\n\n\n  Maenads, 65, 108-110, 112\n\n  Magic and art, 278-297\n    two classes of, 278, 279;\n    by connection, 279-282, 291-294;\n    by likeness, 282-290;\n    expedients for acquiring courage in war, 265;\n    power of the obscene, 217;\n    pantomimes, 11;\n    songs, 288, 295\n\n  Masses, psychology of. _See_ Collective Psychology\n\n  Means of attraction, 203-213\n\n  Medical rites, 284, 287\n\n  Military dances, 265, 266;\n    used as salutation, 92, 93;\n    performed before female spectators, 229\n    dresses and uniforms, 270;\n    ensigns, 271;\n    signals, 263\n\n  Modesty and clothing, 216-218\n\n  Moko tattooing used as a means of identification, 175, 225\n\n  Moods of sadness deliberately enhanced, 51\n\n  Moral influence of art, 108\n\n  Movement-perception, the dynamogenic influence of, 257\n\n  Music, 87\n\n\n  Narrative art, its simplest forms, 157-161\n\n  Novelty, predilection for, 208\n\n\n  \u201cOpisthotonos,\u201d 109\n\n  Ornament, concealed meaning of, 10\n    and mimetic transmission of feeling, 98\n    and rhythm, 91\n\n  Ornaments, the, of the Dyaks, 272-274;\n    of the Maoris, 275, 276\n\n\n  Pain, pantomimic expression of, 39, 40, 93, 94. _See also_ Feeling-tone\n\n  Pantomimics, erotic, 233-235, 245-248;\n    magic, 11, 283, 284;\n    military, 265, 266;\n    narrative, 152-155;\n    representing work, 250-252, 257\n\n  Parnassians, 136, 137\n\n  Pathologic imitation, 79\n\n  Petroglyphs, 175, 176\n\n  Phallic amulets, 217;\n    rites, 284, 287\n\n  Phallocrypts, 215, 216\n\n  Pictographs, 149, 155-157, 161\n\n  Pictorial art, the, of the Bushmen, 237;\n    prayers, 285\n\n  Play, as connected with art, 29;\n    with exercise, 250, 251;\n    with the instincts, 27\n\n  Play-impulse, 26-28, 145, 146, 250\n\n  Please, impulse to, 24, 25\n\n  Pleasure. _See_ Feeling-tone\n\n  Political propitiation and art, 299\n\n  Portraiture, commemorative, 174, 175\n\n  Practical motives for clothing and self-decoration, 216, 224\n\n  Pr\u00e6sul, 257\n\n  Preliminary movements, their dynamogenic influence, 256\n\n  Pride, 46, 137, 181, 222, 268\n\n  Proportion, 117\n\n\n  Rain-making and rain-preventing, 283, 284\n\n  Realism and magic, 289-290\n\n  Realistic movement in literature, 117, 118\n\n  Recognition marks, 190\n\n  Religious doctrines influencing erotic art, 246\n\n  Repugnance for qualities deviating from the tribal type, 209, 210\n\n  Retroaction from sympathisers, craving for, 84\n\n  Rhetoric, primitive, 154\n\n  Rhythm, 87-91, 258-260\n\n\n  Salutation dances, 92\n\n  Sand paintings, the, of the Navajos, 292\n\n  Scarification, 61, 66, 67\n\n  Scars of the Australians explained by Koeler as means of\n    identification, 225\n\n  Science as an end in itself, 19, 20\n\n  Secondary sexual characters, 190-192;\n    activities, 191\n\n  Selbstzweck. _See_ Autotelic Character of Art\n\n  Self-exhibiting impulse, 25\n\n  Self-woundings, 61, 66, 67\n\n  Sentimentalism, 136, 137\n\n  Sex-distinction, marks for accentuating, 192, 209\n\n  Sexual ideal, 204, 213, 242\n\n  Social conditions influencing erotic art, 238-242;\n    expression, 72-85, esp. 83-85\n\n  Solidarity of suffering between members of the same family, 279\n\n  Songs, ephemeral, 159, 160;\n    erotic, 235, 236, 246;\n    exhorting to work, 254, 255, 259;\n    magic, 255, 256, 288, 295;\n    military, 267-269\n\n  Sport as end in itself, 20, 21\n\n  Storage of nutritive supply, 36, 37\n\n  Sucking cure, 285\n\n  Sun-rituals, 284\n\n  Superstitious motives for clothing, 217-219, 224\n\n  Surplus of vigour, 26, 198\n\n  Symmetry, 117\n\n  Sympathetic imitation, 59, 74-85, 154, 155;\n    magic. _See_ Magic\n\n\n  Tangi, 59\n\n  Technical medium, the, of art, 145;\n    perfection in art, 135, 139, 303\n\n  Technique, its influence on decorative art, 146, 147\n\n  Theatrical management and _r\u00e9gie_ among the Australians, 237\n\n  Theurgic rites, 284, 288\n\n  Time-sense, its high development among primitive tribes, 262\n\n  Trade-dances, 252\n\n  Traditions, primitive, preserving the memory of European visitors,\n    166, 167, 178\n\n  Tragedy, enjoyment of, 59\n\n  Transference of energy, 36, 37\n\n  Travels described in primitive art, 158-160, 178\n\n  Trophies, 221\n\n\n  Universal ideas, their importance in \u00e6sthetic systems, 130;\n    their place in primitive philosophy, 296\n\n\n  Vehicles of emotional transmission, 120-124\n\n  Vital sensation and pain, 60-65\n\n  Volts, 286\n\n\n  War, its social influence, 261;\n    its influence on art, 261-277;\n    on plastic beauty, 276;\n    on decorative art, 275-277;\n    a prominent subject in history and narrative art, 178-180;\n    the need of stimulation for, 263\n\n  Werther, 104, 105\n\n  Witches, Bacchantes, and hysteric patients, 109\n\n  Wordless tribes, stories about, 152\n\n  Work, stimulation to, 252-257;\n    regulation of, 88, 257-260;\n    and art, 12, 88, 249-260\n\n\n                                THE END\n\n\n           _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] _F\u00f6rstudier till en konstfilosofi_, Helsingfors, 1896. A summary\nin German of this book can be read in _Zeitschrift f\u00fcr Psychologie und\nPhysiologie der Sinnesorgane_, Bd. xvi. pp. 233-235.\n\n[2] Baumgarten, _Aesthetica_, pp. 1, 3, 6 _sq._\n\n[3] Bosanquet, _History of \u00c6sthetic_, pp. 173, 187.\n\n[4] Cf. _e.g._ Hanslick, _Vom musikalisch Sch\u00f6nen_, p. 3.\n\n[5] Kant, _Kritik der Urtheilskraft_, p. 147, to be compared with\nKant\u2019s chapters on beauty.\n\n[6] Schiller, _\u00dcber die \u00e4sthetische Erziehung des Menschen_, _passim_.\n\n[7] Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. pp. 628, 632. Cf. also the\nextracts from a letter written by Mr. Spencer to M. Guyau, quoted in\n_Les probl\u00e8mes de l\u2019esth\u00e9tique contemporaine_, p. 18.\n\n[8] Hennequin, _La critique scientifique_, pp. 26-28.\n\n[9] Grosse, _Die Anf\u00e4nge der Kunst_, pp. 46, 47.\n\n[10] Grant Allen, _Physiological \u00c6sthetics_, pp. 32, 33.\n\n[11] Cf. Kant, _l.c._ p. 66.\n\n[12] Guyau, _Les probl\u00e8mes de l\u2019esth\u00e9tique contemporaine_, livre i.\n\n[13] Cf. Stolpe, _Utvecklingsf\u00f6reteelser i naturfolkens ornamentik_,\ni.-ii. in Ymer, 1890-1891. An English translation by Mrs. H. C. March\nis published in _Transactions of the Rochdale Literary and Scientific\nSociety_, 1891. Read, \u201cOn the Origin, etc., of Certain Ornaments of\nthe S. E. Pacific,\u201d in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxi. Cf. also March,\n\u201cPolynesian Ornament, a Mythography,\u201d in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxii.\n\n[14] Catlin, _Illustrations_, etc., i. pp. 127, 128, Mandan buffalo\ndance. A similar dance among the Iroquois has been described by Morgan\n(_Iroquois_, p. 287), who does not, however, speak of any magical\npurpose. Although somewhat differently explained by Catlin, the Sioux\nbear dance (_l.c._ i. p. 245) is no doubt as magical in its intention\nas the buffalo dance. The same interpretation holds good also, we\nbelieve, with regard to the gorilla dance of the Negroes (Reade,\n_Savage Africa_, pp. 195, 196) and the hunting pantomimics of the\nKoossa Kaffirs (Lichtenstein, _Travels_, i. p. 269).\n\n[15] Wallace, _Darwinism_, pp. 467, 468.\n\n[16] For a direct opposition to Mr. Wallace\u2019s views on this point\nsee Wallaschek, _Primitive Music_, pp. 278, 279. Cf. also Ritchie,\n_Darwinism and Politics_, pp. 110-114.\n\n[17] Cf. Guyau, _Les probl\u00e8mes de l\u2019esth\u00e9tique contemporaine_, pp. 15,\n24.\n\n[18] For this characteristic term I am indebted to Professor J. M.\nBaldwin.\n\n[19] Cf. chap. ix. in the sequel.\n\n[20] Some brilliant and suggestive remarks on this point may be found\nin Guyau, _Les probl\u00e8mes de l\u2019esth\u00e9tique contemporaine_, p. 12; and in\nHavelock Ellis, _The New Spirit_, pp. 234-236.\n\n[21] Groos, _Die Spiele der Menschen_, pp. 508, 509.\n\n[22] Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, vol. iii. pp. 201-231.\n\n[23] This view, viz. that the \u00e6sthetic cravings are a \u201cracial\u201d\npossession of mankind, has been clearly and consistently maintained\nby Marshall, cf. _\u00c6sthetic Principles_, p. 70; _Pain, Pleasure and\n\u00c6sthetics_, pp. 100, 101.\n\n[24] Vischer, _\u00c4sthetik_, vol. i. p. 53; vol. iii. pp. 3-10.\n\n[25] Taine, _Philosophie de l\u2019art_, pp. 57-70.\n\n[26] Engel, _Ideen zu einer Mimik_, i. p. 97.\n\n[27] Cf. as to the significance of this process, and its connection\nwith the imitative process, Baldwin, _Mental Development_, p. 264.\n\n[28] Marshall, _\u00c6sthetic Principles_, p. 62; cf. _Pain, Pleasure, and\n\u00c6sthetics_, p. 104.\n\n[29] Cf. chapters xiv.-xvi. in the sequel.\n\n[30] Cf. Marshall, _Pain, Pleasure, and \u00c6sthetics_, p. 104. (\u201cNor can\nwe with Kant and Schiller hold that the \u2018art-impulse\u2019 is especially\nconnected with the \u2018play-impulse\u2019 through lack of end, if I am right\nthat an end for art-work is discernible in _attraction through the\npleasing of others_.\u201d)\n\n[31] Baldwin, _Social and Ethical Interpretations_, p. 151; cf. pp.\n150, 152.\n\n[32] Schiller, _\u00dcber die \u00e4sthetische Erziehung des Menschen_, esp.\nBrief 15.\n\n[33] _Ibid._ Brief 27, quoted in Groos, _The Play of Animals_, p. 2.\n\n[34] Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, vol. ii. pp. 629, 630.\n\n[35] Spencer, \u201cThe Origin of Music,\u201d in _Mind_, xv. 452, 453;\nreprinted in the last edition of _Essays_, ii. pp. 430, 431; Wallace,\n_Darwinism_, pp. 281, 284, 287, 292; Hudson, _The Naturalist in La\nPlata_, pp. 280-286.\n\n[36] Wallaschek, \u201cNatural Selection and Music\u201d in _International\nCongress of Experimental Psychology_, second session, 1892, p. 74;\n_Primitive Music_, pp. 271, 272. These utterances of Wallaschek ought\nto be quoted as expressing his views, and not the earlier passage in\nMind, 1891, p. 376, from which Groos concludes that Wallaschek agrees\nwith Spencer. Cf. Groos, _The Play of Animals_, p. 6. As early as\n1891, Wallaschek pointed out the importance of music and dances as\npreparations and not only representations of the most important actions\nin life. Cf. _l.c._ p. 74.\n\n[37] Groos, _The Play of Animals_, pp. 18-24.\n\n[38] Groos, _l.c._ p. 21.\n\n[39] Groos, _Die Spiele der Menschen_, pp. 216-356.\n\n[40] Guyau, _Les probl\u00e8mes de l\u2019esth\u00e9tique contemporaine_, p. 9: \u201cOn\npourrait donc, en continuant la pens\u00e9e de M. Spencer, aller jusqu\u2019\u00e0\ndire que l\u2019art, cette esp\u00e8ce de jeu raffin\u00e9 a son origine ou du moins\nsa premi\u00e8re manifestation dans l\u2019instinct de la lutte, soit contre la\nnature, soit contre les hommes.\u201d Cf. also Guyau, _L\u2019art au point de\nvue sociologique_, p. 14, where Guyau in a brilliant passage shows\nhow an element of passionate struggle and conquest enters even in the\nmost abstract reasoning. To be compared with the chapters of Groos on\n_Kampfspiele_.\n\n[41] F\u00e9r\u00e9, _Sensation et mouvement_, pp. 34, 64; cf. _The Pathology of\nEmotions_, p. 206.\n\n[42] Lehmann, _Hauptgesetze des menschlichen Gef\u00fchlslebens_, pp. 89, 95.\n\n[43] F\u00e9r\u00e9, _Sensation et mouvement_, p. 64.\n\n[44] Gratiolet, _De la physionomie_, pp. 47, 53; Darwin, _The\nExpression of the Emotions_, pp. 80, 207; Bain, _The Emotions and the\nWill_, pp. 11, 12; Bouillier, _Du plaisir et de la douleur_, pp. 50,\n51; Mantegazza, _Physiognomy and Expression_, pp. 114, 115.\n\n[45] Amiel, _Journal_, i. p. 208.\n\n[46] Darwin, _The Expression of the Emotions_, p. 81.\n\n[47] Lehmann, _Hauptgesetze_, pp. 298-301.\n\n[48] Lehmann, _Hauptgesetze_, p. 214.\n\n[49] Marshall, _Pain, Pleasure, and \u00c6sthetics_, pp. 222, 223.\n\n[50] Dumont, _Th\u00e9orie scientifique de la sensibilit\u00e9_, pp. 67, 68;\nDelb\u0153uf, _\u00c9l\u00e9ments de psychophysique_, pp. 182, 191.\n\n[51] Marshall, _l.c._ p. 174.\n\n[52] Cf. Stout, _Manual of Psychology_, pp. 236-239.\n\n[53] Cf. Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, i. p. 273.\n\n[54] Hamilton, _Lectures_, ii. p. 478; cf. also Bouillier, _Du plaisir\net de la douleur_, pp. 52-62.\n\n[55] Marshall, _Pain, Pleasure, and \u00c6sthetics_, p. 213; cf. Dr. Stout\u2019s\nkeen criticism of this explanation, _Analytic Psychology_, ii. pp. 294,\n295.\n\n[56] F\u00e9r\u00e9, _The Pathology of Emotions_, pp. 275, 276; Lombroso, _The\nMan of Genius_, pp. 151, 152; Ribot, _The Psychology of the Emotions_,\np. 46 (\u201cObservations on the beneficial effects created on melancholic\npatients by physical pain\u201d).\n\n[57] _Goncourt, Journal des_, ii. p. 250.\n\n[58] Cf. Fechner, _Vorschule der Aesthetik_, ii. p. 265; cf. also\nMarshall, _Pain, Pleasure, and \u00c6sthetics_, p. 187.\n\n[59] Bain, _The Emotions and the Will_, pp. 5, 6; cf. also _The Senses\nand the Intellect_, p. 290; Ribot, _The Psychology of the Emotions_,\npp. 97, 112; F\u00e9r\u00e9, _The Pathology of Emotions_, p. 44; Paulhan, _Les\nph\u00e9nom\u00e8nes affectifs_, p. 37; Godfernaux, _Le sentiment et la pens\u00e9e_,\np. 66.\n\n[60] Stout, _Manual of Psychology_, p. 296.\n\n[61] A treatment in detail of this point has been given in my\n_F\u00f6rstudier till en konstfilosofi_, pp. 57-59.\n\n[62] Lehmann, _Hauptgesetze_, pp. 308, 309.\n\n[63] Spencer, _Essays_, ii. p. 457.\n\n[64] Cf. James, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. p. 466; Darwin, _The\nExpression of the Emotions_, p. 76.\n\n[65] Spencer, _l.c._ ii. pp. 456, 457.\n\n[66] For the convenience of treatment we here restrict our attention to\nthose emotional processes the initial stages of which are accompanied\nby changes of activity in the voluntary muscles.\n\n[67] These linguistic facts might have afforded Professor Mantegazza\na further argument in favour of his physiognomical thesis that the\nexpression of injured self-esteem is similar to that of gustatory pain.\nCf. Mantegazza, _Physiognomy and Expression_, p. 130.\n\n[68] James, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. p. 463: \u201cSit all day in a\nmoping posture, sigh, and reply to everything in a dismal voice, and\nyour melancholy lingers.\u201d\n\n[69] Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. pp. 590, 591. Cf. also\nwith regard to the enjoyment which can by reflection be derived from\nsorrow, fear, and other pain-emotions, Paulhan, _Les ph\u00e9nom\u00e8nes\naffectifs_, pp. 119, 120; Hamilton, _Lectures_, ii. pp. 481-484;\nBouillier, _Du plaisir et de la douleur_, pp. 62-72.\n\n[70] Spencer, _l.c._ ii. pp. 623-626.\n\n[71] James, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. pp. 462, 463.\n\n[72] James, _l.c._ pp. 444, 445. It is to be remarked, however, that in\nthe more elaborate statement of his theory, which Professor James has\ngiven in _The Psychological Review_, 1894, he pays due attention to the\ninfluence by which \u201cexpression\u201d may change the tone of an emotion. Cf.\nespecially p. 519 about fear: \u201cwhen the running has actually commenced,\nit gives rise to _exhilaration_ by its effects on breathing and pulse,\netc., in this case, and not to fear.\u201d\n\n[73] The interesting contributions to the psychology of acting, which\nhave been brought together by Mr. William Archer in his _Masks or\nFaces_, do not give us much reliable information as to the part which\nthe \u201cexpressional movements\u201d play in a deliberate stirring up of an\nemotion. Even if we were to accept all the testimonies of actors and\nactresses as a testable evidence, we could scarcely decide whether the\nemotional state of an actor who plays his part in perfect sincerity is\nchiefly a result of his losing himself in the fictitious situation, or\nwhether this state follows as a retroaction exercised by the artificial\nperformance of weeping, laughing, sobbing, etc. Cf. Archer, _Masks or\nFaces_, pp. 133-136. Some interesting remarks on this point can also\nbe found in Dugald Stewart\u2019s _Elements of the Philosophy of the Human\nMind_, iii. pp. 168, 185.\n\n[74] James, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. p. 444.\n\n[75] Cf. Lehmann, _Hauptgesetze_, pp. 107-111, where the pain-element\nof anger is emphasised in opposition to Professor Lange\u2019s description\nof this emotion.\n\n[76] A detailed account of the various stages of anger has been\ngiven by me in _F\u00f6rstudier till en konstfilosofi_, pp. 73-77. Cf.\nalso Lange, _Nydelsernes fysiologi_, pp. 16-19, and Lange, _Ueber\nGemuethsbewegungen_, pp. 28-35.\n\n[77] Cf. Marshall, _Pain, Pleasure, and \u00c6sthetics_, p. 246; Sully, _The\nHuman Mind_, ii. p. 91; Hamilton, _Lectures_, ii. p. 483. It cannot be\ndenied, however, that terror often becomes intensified as a painful\nfeeling in proportion as the heart-beatings, the quiverings, and all\nthe other active manifestations increase.\n\n[78] Marshall, _Pain, Pleasure, and \u00c6sthetics_, p. 226; cf. Sully, _The\nHuman Mind_, ii. p. 34.\n\n[79] Lehmann, _Hauptgesetze_, pp. 195, 196.\n\n[80] Taylor, _Te Ika A Maui_, p. 175, on the Tangi feasts in New\nZealand; Welcker, _Kleine Schriften_, i. pp. 26-31; Sittl, _Gesch. d.\ngriech. Literatur_, i. p. 24. For a sympathetic interpretation of such\nfeasts of sorrow see R\u00e9clus, _Les primitifs_, pp. 239, 240. Cf. also\nthe remarks of Lobeck, _Aglaophamus_, i. pp. 688-690, and Groos, _Die\nSpiele der Menschen_, p. 38.\n\nThe above adduced instances show us that even the art of primitive\nman does not bear out the views recently brought into prominence by\nHerckenrath and Faguet (Faguet, _Drame ancien, drame moderne_, pp.\n2, 7, 12), and so ably stated by Mr. Walkley (_Frames of Mind_, pp.\n1-7), according to which the enjoyment of tragedy as well as that of\ncomedy can be reduced to a malevolently pleasurable consciousness of\nour own security in contrast to the sufferings of others. Comparative\npsychology tends far more to support those authors who contend that\nin tragedy we enjoy that pleasure which inherently exists in sorrow\nitself. Cf. Shelley, _A Defence of Poetry_, p. 35.\n\n[81] Lobeck, _Aglaophamus_, i. p. 688. \u201cDe hoc universo genere\ndicere licet id quod res habet, hominis naturae quodam instinctu ut\nlaetandi ita lugendi causas sibi fingere; unde est, quod aliena funera\nsequuntur, quod ignotis sepulchris adsident, quod praeteritorum malorum\nmemoriam refricant.\u201d\n\n[82] Lessing, _Gelehrter Briefwechsel_, pp. 145, 146, quoted in\nBernays\u2019 _Zwei Abhandlungen_, p. 144. Cf. also Scherer, _Poetik_, p.\n112. Scherer, who thinks that the phrase \u201cBewusstsein unserer Realit\u00e4t\u201d\nis too abstract in its wording, proposes in its place \u201cFreude an uns\nselbst\u201d (delight in ourselves).\n\n[83] Helvetius, _De l\u2019esprit_, discours iii. ch. v.\n\n[84] Jefferies, _The Story of My Heart_, especially p. 128;\nBashkirtseff, _Journal_, ii. pp. 126, 531, 532; cf. also i. pp. 66, 67;\nii. pp. 115, 290.\n\n[85] The purely pathological motives of the self-woundings of Christian\nfanatics appear with unmistakable clearness from the instances that\nhave been collected in medical literature, cf. especially Calmeil, _De\nla folie_, ii. pp. 327, 328, 375-380, 384, 404, 405; Figuier, _Hist.\ndu merveilleux_, i. pp. 372, 373, 376, 379; Stoll, _Suggestion und\nHypnotismus_, pp. 362-365. We need not dwell in this connection upon\nthe sexually exciting effects which may be created by flagellation.\nThis point has been sufficiently elucidated by the above-mentioned\nauthors.\n\n[86] Lange, _Gem\u00fcthsbewegungen_, pp. 33, 34.\n\n[87] Wundt, _Philosophische Studien_, vi. pp. 351, 352 (Zur Lehre von\nGem\u00fcthsbewegungen).\n\n[88] Brinton, _The Pursuit of Happiness_, p. 18.\n\n[89] Kierkegaard, _Enten Eller_, i. pp. 23, 24.\n\n[90] Ribot, _The Psychology of the Emotions_, p. 376.\n\n[91] On the self-woundings of the Maenads cf. Preller, _Griechische\nMythologie_, i. 2. p. 656; Lobeck, _Aglaophamus_, i. p. 672.\n\n[92] Cf. Marshall, _Pain, Pleasure, and \u00c6sthetics_, p. 259.\n\n[93] For a copious collection of instances see Joest, _T\u00e4towiren_, pp.\n34, 35; Schneider, _Die Naturv\u00f6lker_, i. pp. 111-113; cf. also Smyth,\n_Victoria_, i. p. 112 (The Narrinyeri); Cranz, _Historie von Gr\u00f6nland_,\nii. p. 331; Dall, _Alaska_, p. 417 (The Kygani); Schoolcraft,\n_Information_, iv. p. 66 (Dacotas); v. p. 168 (Kenistenos); Ellis,\n_Polynesian Researches_, i. p. 410 (Tahiti); Cook. (1st) _Voyage_, p.\n104 (Tahiti); Taylor, _Te Ika A Maui_, p. 102 (Maoris).\n\n[94] It cannot be denied, however, that in many cases the self-wounding\nis executed as a traditional, superstitious, or sacrificial rite. The\nMaori funeral ceremonies, in which the apparently impulsive and exalted\ncutting is \u201cdone with considerable method and regularity, so as to\nmake the scars ornamental rather than otherwise,\u201d can thus scarcely\nbe adduced as a genuine instance of emotional expression. Cf. Robley,\n_Moko_, p. 46. Still less are we entitled to speak in this connection\nof those Polynesian funeral ceremonies in which the survivors lacerate\nthemselves and allow the blood to drop on the face of the corpse or\nunder its bier. Cf. the instances of such superstitious self-woundings\ncollected in Hartland, _The Legend of Perseus_, ii. pp. 241, 321-325.\n\n[95] On woundings in medical cures, cf. esp. Bartels, _Medicin der\nNaturv\u00f6lker_, pp. 267-271; Curr, _The Australian Race_, ii. pp.\n69, 70 (The Dieyerie Tribe, by Gason); Ling Roth, _Tasmania_, pp.\n75, 76; Man, _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xii. p. 85 (Andamanese); Mouat,\n_Andaman Islands_, p. 307; Bourke, _Rep. Bur. Ethn._, 1887-88, p. 471\n(Medicine-men of the Apache. Scarification resorted to in order to\nrelieve exhaustion); Keating, _Narrative of an Expedition_, i. p. 226,\nquotes the interesting conceptions entertained by the Sauks and Foxes\nas to the result of lacerations. The wounds are inflicted at funerals,\n\u201cnot for the purpose of mortification, or to create a pain, which\nshall, by dividing their attention, efface the recollection of their\nloss, but entirely from a belief that their grief is internal, and that\nthe only way of dispelling it is to give it a vent through which to\nescape.\u201d There seems to be no doubt that similar notions have led to\nthe curing of bodily pain by bleeding.\n\nAs to laceration as a means of overcoming humiliation see Curr, _l.c._\nii. p. 70 (Dieyerie). Even joy, when abnormally strong, seems often\nto express itself in this way. Ellis, _Pol. Res._ i. p. 410 (Tahiti);\nPritchard, _Pol. Rem._ p. 138 (Samoa); P\u00e9ron, _Voyage_, i. p. 227\n(Tasmanians, who scratch themselves in the face and tear the hair in\ntheir enthusiasm, when hearing the Marseillaise performed); Bernier,\n_L\u2019art du com\u00e9dien_, p. 310.\n\nAs connected with the emotion of joy we may also explain the\noccurrences of self-woundings at meetings between friends. Cf. esp.\nLumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, pp. 224, 225. It is not to be overlooked\nthat in many tribes friends express their delight at meetings by\na ceremonial weeping and wailing. Cf. Man, _Journ. Anthr. Inst._\nxii. p. 147; Day, _Proc. As. Soc. Bengal_, 1870, p. 157, both on\nthe Andamanese; Batchelor, _The Ainu_, p. 105; Taylor, _Te Ika A\nMaui_, p. 103; Angas, _Savage Life_, ii. pp. 32, 73, 109, all on New\nZealand; Freycinet, _Voyage_, ii. p. 589 (The Sandwich Islands);\nLander, _Journal_, i. pp. 148, 149 (Yoruba Country); and the instances\nquoted in Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. pp. 20, 70, 71.\nAs this apparently paradoxical expression can be explained in many\ncases as a conventional ceremony, which is not accompanied by any\ngenuine feeling, so the self-wounding may often be a purely ritual\nobservance. But although some of the above adduced instances can thus\nbe considered as spurious, we nevertheless feel right in assuming that\nan impulsive creation of pain is generally to be derived from the\npsychical conditions accompanying high-strung emotion. This is also the\nconclusion at which Mr. Brinton and Mr. Andrew Lang have arrived. Cf.\nBrinton, _Religion of Primitive Peoples_, p. 213; Lang, _The Making of\nReligion_, p. 310.\n\n[96] We need only refer to such periods as the fifteenth century and\nthe time of the great revolution. As to the abnormally exaggerated\ncraving for amusement during these unhappy times, cf. especially\nthe remarks of Michelet, _Histoire de France_, iv. pp. 406, 407;\nChampfleury, _Hist. de la caricature sous la r\u00e9publique_, pp. 275, 279;\nHecker, _Volkskrankheiten_, pp. 152, 153; _Goncourt, Journal des_, ii.\npp. 180, 181; and the Introduction to Boccaccio\u2019s _Decamerone_.\n\n[97] Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, pp. 4, 5. Cf. the important\nelaboration of this theory in Dugald Stewart, _Philosophy of the Human\nMind_, iii. pp. 171, 174.\n\n[98] Cf. especially the works of Tarde, Schmidkunz, Baldwin.\n\n[99] Cf. Groos, _The Play of Animals_, pp. 72, 76 _sq._ 182.\n\n[100] There can be no question, in this connection, of entering\nupon the debate between the adherents of Robert Vischer, Groos, and\nothers, and the associationists, Lipps and Stern, who wish to put\nother notions, such as recognition or \u201cVerschmelzung\u201d instead of\nthe imitation. Whatever reason Dr. Stern may have to criticise the\n_formulation_ of the German \u00e6sthetic theories of visual intuition, we\ndo not see that he has been able to refute them in their _fundamental_\npoints. Cf. Stern, _Einf\u00fchlung und Association_, passim.\n\n[101] Jouffroy, _Cours d\u2019esth\u00e9tique_, pp. 29, 256, 259, 261.\n\n[102] Vernon Lee and Anstruther Thompson, \u201cBeauty and Ugliness,\u201d in the\n_Contemporary Review_, vol. xxii. 1897; cf. especially pp. 357, 544,\n548, 550, 554.\n\n[103] Home, _Elements of Criticism_, i. pp. 178-181.\n\n[104] Cf. Hogarth, _Analysis of Beauty_, pp. 26-28.\n\n[105] Dugald Stewart, _Philosophical Essays_, pp. 402-404, 408 (\u201cOn the\nSublime\u201d).\n\n[106] Spencer, _Essays_, ii. p. 386 (\u201cGracefulness\u201d).\n\n[107] Cf. Vernon Lee and Anstruther Thompson, _l.c._ pp. 550, 686, 687;\ncf. also Fouill\u00e9e, _Psychologie des id\u00e9es-forces_, ii. pp. 59-64.\n\n[108] Prof. Lipps, who does not believe in an \u201cinternal imitation,\u201d\nsays that the anthropomorphic interpretation of outward reality \u201cr\u00fcckt\nuns die Dinge n\u00e4her, macht sie uns vertrauter und damit zugleich\nvermeintlich verst\u00e4ndlicher\u201d (\u201cbrings the things nearer to us, makes\nthem more familiar, and thereby produces an illusion that they are more\ncomprehensible\u201d). According to the view which we have adopted above,\nthe gain in comprehensibility is real, and not only illusory. Cf.\nLipps, _Raumaesthetik_, p. 6.\n\n[109] Cf. with regard to the above argument the chapter on\nmovement-perception in Stricker\u2019s _Die Bewegungsvorstellungen_,\nespecially pp. 20, 21. Cf. also the remarks in Dugald Stewart,\n_Philosophy of the Human Mind_, iii. pp. 10, 11, 157.\n\n[110] Cf. the often-quoted story of Campanella\u2019s device to divine\nthe thoughts of people by imitating their behaviour, as told, for\nexample, in Burke\u2019s _The Sublime and the Beautiful_, pp. 98, 99. Mr.\nStanley quotes one of Poe\u2019s tales, in which the same trick is used by a\ndetective (_Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling_, p. 364).\n\n[111] Cf. Groos, _Die Spiele der Menschen_, p. 430.\n\n[112] An almost simian tendency to imitation has been noticed among\nseveral primitive races, such as the Australians (Spencer, _Descr.\nSoc._ Div. i. No. 3, p. 5, quoting Sturt) and the Fuegians (Spencer,\n_ibid._ quoting Weddel).\n\nAs is well known, imitation is in tribes of a hysterical disposition,\nsuch as the Malays and the Lapps, apt to become an endemic disease. Cf.\nwith regard to the Malays, Swettenham, _Malay Sketches_, pp. 70-82;\nStoll, _Suggestion und Hypnotismus_, p. 74; with regard to the Lapps,\nD\u00fcben, _Lappland_, p. 192; Schmidkunz, _Psychologie der Suggestion_, p.\n199. Instances of contagious mental diseases and pathological imitation\namong civilised nations are too familiar to be enumerated.\n\n[113] Cf. Baldwin, _Mental Development_, p. 403.\n\n[114] Preyer, _Die Seele des Kindes_, p. 228; cf. Harless, _Lehrb. d.\nplast. Anatomie_, p. 125, and Dugald Stewart, _Philosophy of the Human\nMind_, iii. pp. 6, 7, 193, 194.\n\n[115] _Goncourt, Journal des_, i. p. 281:\u2014Hier j\u2019\u00e9tais \u00e0 un bout de la\ngrande table du ch\u00e2teau. Edmond \u00e0 l\u2019autre bout causait avec Th\u00e9r\u00e8se. Je\nn\u2019entendais rien, mais quand il souriait, je souriais involontairement\net dans la m\u00eame pose de t\u00eate.... Jamais \u00e2me pareille n\u2019a \u00e9t\u00e9 mise en\ndeux corps.\n\n[116] Cf. especially Binet, _Le f\u00e9tichisme dans l\u2019amour_, p. 248.\n\n[117] For a treatment of the interindividual transmission of feeling,\nin which the chief points of modern theories on mob-mind are\nanticipated, see Dugald Stewart, _Philosophy of the Human Mind_, iii.\npp. 208-211.\n\n[118] F\u00e9r\u00e9, _The Pathology of Emotions_, p. 212.\n\n[119] _Lancet_, 1886, i. pp. 312, 313, quoted in Aubry, _La contagion\ndu meurtre_, pp. 220-223; Le Bon, _Psychologie des foules_, p. 46.\n\n[120] We need scarcely remark, in this connection, that every unhappy\nexperience awakens the craving for assistance and consolation, and\ntherefore indirectly gives rise to an effort to create sympathy.\nThis point must, however, be passed over when treating of impulsive,\npurely emotional manifestations. As to the pleasures and consolations\nof mutual sympathy, compare, moreover, Smith, _Theory of Moral\nSentiments_, pp. 10-13, especially p. 12.\n\n[121] Espinas, _Des soci\u00e9ti\u00e9s animales_, p. 328.\n\n[122] Brehm, _Thierleben_, i. pp. 204, 205, 208.\n\n[123] Van Ende, _Hist. nat. de la croyance_, I. L\u2019animal, p. 218;\nBrehm, _l.c._ p. 87.\n\n[124] Wallaschek, _Primitive Music_, pp. 230, 231; Grosse, _Die Anf\u00e4nge\nder Kunst_, p. 219. Cf. also Schlegel, A. W., _S\u00e4mmtl. Werke_, vii.\npp. 149, 150 (_Briefe \u00fcber Poesie, Silbenmasz und Sprache_), where a\nsimilar theory is advanced.\n\n[125] B\u00fccher, _Arbeit und Rhythmus_, passim.\n\n[126] B\u00fccher, _l.c. passim_. Compare, however, p. 306 as to the\ndifference between labour in the modern sense and the working activity\nof primitive man.\n\n[127] Cf. Souriau, _L\u2019esth\u00e9tique du mouvement_, p. 70.\n\n[128] Bourgoing, _Modern State of Spain_, ii. pp. 299, 300.\n\n[129] Vernon Lee and Anstrather Thompson, \u201cBeauty and Ugliness,\u201d in the\n_Contemporary Review_, vol. lxxii. 1897, p. 559: \u201cTo this quality of\nmere complexity of surface, pattern adds by its regularity the power\nof compelling the eye and breath to move at an even and unbroken pace.\nEven the simplest, therefore, of the patterns ever used have a power\nakin to that of march music, for they compel our organism to a regular\nrhythmical mode of being.\u201d\n\n[130] The expression \u201cgymnastic,\u201d as distinguished from pantomimic\ndance, is borrowed from Grosse, _Die Anf\u00e4nge der Kunst_.\n\n[131] That the dances of salutation and homage in most cases really are\nto be derived from the expression of joy has been shown by Spencer,\n_Principles of Sociology_, iii. p. 201, and might be corroborated by\ninstances referring to all the details of complimentary ceremonialism.\n\n[132] Carver, _Travels_, pp. 180-182 (Lake Pepin); Martin, _Molukken_,\np. 57 (Lectimor); Polack, _The New Zealanders_, i. p. 88 (Maoris). Cf.\nalso Rienzi, _Oc\u00e9anie_, iii. p. 170, on the frequent quarrels between\nEuropeans and Maoris that have arisen from a misunderstanding of these\nkinds of salutation. Johnstone, _Maoria_, p. 49: \u201cThe war dance was\npractised both as a martial exercise and as an amusement, and was\nconsidered equally adapted to give honourable reception to friendly\nvisitors or to intimidate an enemy on the field of battle.\u201d\n\n[133] Cf. the instances collected by F\u00e9r\u00e9, _Pathology of Emotions_, pp.\n360-390; and Godfernaux, _Le sentiment et la pens\u00e9e_, pp. 65 _sq._ A\npowerful description of the mythogenic justifications by which anxiety\ncreates to itself a reason is given in Maupassant\u2019s poem \u201cTerreur\u201d in\n_Des Vers_, pp. 19, 20.\n\n[134] Cf. on the infectious influence of dramatic performances,\nCahusac, _La danse_, i. pp. 166, 167; ii. pp. 61, 62; Jacobowski,\n_Anf\u00e4nge der Poesie_, pp. 127-129; Tarde, \u201cFoules et sectes,\u201d in _Revue\ndes deux Mondes_, vol. cxx. (1893), especially p. 368. It is scarcely\nnecessary to point out to how great an extent the emotional conveyance\nby means of dramatic action must have been strengthened by the chorus,\nwhich, by its laughter or wailing, affords a kind of model expression\nto the spectator. Possibly, indeed, the Greek chorus developed from\na ceremonial in which chorus and audience were not distinct but\nidentical\u2014a ritual of wailings or rejoicings provoked by the recital of\na traditional story. This view, curiously in advance of his times, is\nsuggested by Brown, an eighteenth century philosopher (_History of the\nRise of Poetry_, pp. 126-128): \u201cHow came it to pass that in the more\nbarbarous periods the number [of the chorus] should be so much greater?\nManifestly because that rude age bordered on the savage times, when\nthe _whole audience_ had _sympathised_ with the _narrative actor_, and\nbecame as one general choir.\u201d\n\n[135] Engel, _Ideen zu einer Mimic_, i. pp. 86-88; cf. also\nSeckendorff, _Vorlesungen \u00fcber Declamation und Mimik_, ii. p. 5;\nSully-Prudhomme, _L\u2019expression dans les-beaux arts_, pp. 96, 97.\n\n[136] Lichtenberg, _Briefe aus England, Vermischte Schriften_, iii. p.\n262.\n\n[137] Lange, _Nydelsernes fysiologi_, pp. 168, 169. As to the\nimportance of imitative reaction for our enjoyment of sculpture, cf.\nVernon Lee and Anstruther Thompson, _The Contemporary Review_, vol.\nlxxii., pp. 677-679.\n\n[138] Sully-Prudhomme, _L\u2019expression dans les beaux-arts_, pp. 4, 5.\n\n[139] Nietzsche, _Die Geburt der Trag\u00f6die_, p. 8.\n\n[140] Goethe, _Dichtung und Wahrheit_, iii. p. 132. This instance has\nbeen adduced by Professor Julius Lange in support of his emotionalistic\nart-theory; _Om Kunstv\u0153rdi_, pp. 72-84.\n\n[141] Wallaschek, _Mind_, N.S. iv. p. 34, \u201cOn the Difference of Time\nand Rhythm in Music;\u201d B\u00fccher, _Arbeit und Rhythmus_, p. 306.\n\n[142] Cf. Emmanuel, _La danse grecque antique_, p. 127.\n\n[143] Cf. Creuzer, _Symbolik und Mythologie_, iii. p. 155; Ruskin\navails himself of the same allegory in _The Queen of the Air_, pp.\n66-70.\n\n[144] _Revue Critique_, 1896, ii. pp. 386, 387; cf. also Groos, _Die\nSpiele der Menschen_, pp. 110, 476.\n\n[145] Spencer, _Essays_, ii. 460.\n\n[146] Cf. Charcot and Richer, _Les d\u00e9moniaques dans l\u2019art_, p. 37;\nEmmanuel, _La danse grecque antique_, pp. 102, 196-198, 302, 303.\n\n[147] Michelet, _La Sorci\u00e8re_, p. 80.\n\n[148] Cf. for example, Dyer, _Gods in Greece_, pp. 114-117.\n\n[149] Cf. Brown, _The Fine Arts_, pp. 22-35, 41-70; and Hill in _Pop.\nSc. Monthly_, vol. xlii. pp. 734-749.\n\n[150] Rapp, _Rheinisches Museum_, xxvii. p. 2 (\u201cDie M\u00e4nade im\ngriechischen Cultus\u201d).\n\n[151] Rohde, _Psyche_, pp. 331, 343.\n\n[152] Nietzsche, _Die Geburt der Trag\u00f6die_, pp. 6, 7.\n\n[153] A detailed treatment of gracefulness in art and life has been\ngiven by the author in _F\u00f6rstudier till en konstfilosofi_, pp. 132-147.\n\n[154] Cf. Holz, _Die Kunst_, p. 117. It is only fair to add that in\ntheir own novels the authors of this school have involuntarily failed\nto support their theoretical principles.\n\n[155] Cf. chap. i.\n\n[156] Cf. Taine, _Philosophie de l\u2019art_, pp. 72, 73.\n\n[157] _Ibid._ pp. 52, 53.\n\n[158] Hemsterhuis, _\u0152uvres_, i. pp. 14-18, 24, 66 (Lettre sur la\nsculpture, Lettre sur les d\u00e9sirs). A similar thought was applied by Poe\nto the fundamental principles in poetic composition and has exercised a\ngreat influence on recent literary movements. Cf. Poe, _Works_, vi. pp.\n3-6 (The poetic principle). For a further elaboration of this notion\ncf. Bourget, _\u00c9tudes et portraits_, i. pp. 225, 226; Hansson, _K\u00e5serier\ni mystik_, pp. 140, 141; Symons, _The Symbolist Movement_, p. 137\n(St\u00e9phane Mallarm\u00e9).\n\n[159] Carlyle, _Sartor Resartus_, p. 180.\n\n[160] Wagner, _Ges. Schriften_, iv. p. 39 (Oper und Drama).\n\n[161] Cf. chap. ii. in the preceding.\n\n[162] Cf. the quotations adduced by Harnack, _Die klassische \u00c4sthetik_,\npp. 124, 143, 161, 164, 165. Cf. also von Stein, _Goethe und Schiller,\n\u00c4sthetik der deutschen Klassiker_, pp. 25, 27.\n\n[163] Taine, _De l\u2019id\u00e9al dans l\u2019art_, pp. 19, 50, 130, 175.\n\n[164] For an interesting comparison between French and English ideals\nof art, compare the aphorisms of Mr. Quilter in _Sententi\u00e6 Artis_, pp.\n7, 121, with the views of Taine, as expressed, for example, in _L\u2019id\u00e9al\ndans l\u2019art_, p. 148.\n\n[165] Cf. Ruskin, _Modern Painters_, 1, i. ii. \u00a7 8; iii. iv. 3, \u00a7\u00a7 21,\n24, 28.\n\n[166] Tolstoy, _What is Art?_ Julius Lange, _Om Kunstv\u00e6rdi_. Cf.\nalso the remarks in Carpenter, _Angels\u2019 Wings_, the poetic theory of\nHolmes, as set forth in _What is Poetry?_ and the definition of March,\n\u201cEvolution and Psychology in Art,\u201d _Mind_, N.S. v. p. 442.\n\n[167] Taine, _Philosophie de l\u2019art_, p. 50. For a just appreciation of\nthe part of feeling in art see also _De l\u2019id\u00e9al dans l\u2019art_, p. 152;\nRuskin, _The Laws of F\u00e9sole_, chap. i. pp. 1-7; _Modern Painters_, iii.\niv. i. \u00a7\u00a7 13, 14; _Lectures on Art_, pp. 80, 81.\n\n[168] Hirth, _Aufgaben der Kunstphysiologie_, pp. 14-16.\n\n[169] Cf. von Stein, _Goethe und Schiller, \u00c4sthetik der deutschen\nKlassiker_, p. 32.\n\n[170] Cf. the quotations from Schiller\u2019s letters to Goethe, adduced by\nHarnack in _Die klassische \u00c4sthetik der Deutschen_, pp. 89-92.\n\n[171] Leconte de Lisle, _Po\u00e8mes barbares_, p. 221.\n\n[172] Van Dyke, _Principles of Art_, p. 281.\n\n[173] Groos, _The Play of Animals_, pp. 327, 328.\n\n[174] Cf. especially March, \u201cEvolution and Psychology in Art,\u201d in\n_Mind_, N.S. v. (1896); Balfour, _The Evolution of Decorative Art_;\nHaddon, _Evolution in Art_, and the papers of Holmes in _Rep. Bur.\nEthn._ iii. iv. vi., and in _The American Anthropologist_, iii.\n\n[175] For a recent defence of this theory see Tarde, _La logique\nsociale_, pp. 445, 446.\n\n[176] Cf. chap. vi. in the preceding.\n\n[177] Cf. Mallery in _Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. pp. 283, 284, 347; Sayce,\n_Introd. to the Science of Language_, i. pp. 92-94, 105-107; ii. pp.\n306-308. It is to be remarked that in maintaining the priority of\npantomimic language Mr. Mallery always emphasises the \u201cinstinctive\u201d\ncharacter of this means of communication. Cp. _Rep. Bur._ i. pp. 340,\n347. Professor Sayce seems to conceive gesture-language as consisting\nonly of dramatically imitating \u201cmoves\u201d or sounds, (_l.c._ i. p. 107).\nProfessor Tylor, on the other hand, who takes up a critical position\nwith regard to the theory of gesture-language as an intermediate stage\nof evolution, speaks of gesture-language as made up by delineations and\nindications (_Early Hist. of Mankind_, pp. 15, 16). In a theoretical\ndiscussion it is evidently necessary to maintain a strict distinction\nbetween these different kinds of pantomimic thought-conveyance, which\nare no doubt accompanied by different degrees of intention. Cp.\nRomanes, _Mental Evol. in Man_, pp. 86, 103.\n\n[178] Cf. Kussmaul in Ziemssen\u2019s _Cyclop\u00e6dia_, p. 14, esp. p. 587\n(Disturbances of Speech.)\n\n[179] Cf. Romanes, _l.c._ pp. 113, 148, 149, on the influence exercised\nby the constructions of spoken language on the gesture-language of\ndeaf-mutes.\n\n[180] Cf. Tylor, _l.c._ pp. 74-79, on the improbability of the stories\nabout tribes who cannot make themselves understood by each other\nwithout the help of gestures. Dr. Tylor\u2019s criticism of Captain Burton\u2019s\nstatement that the Aropahos \u201ccan hardly converse with one another in\nthe dark\u201d has been amply confirmed by the subsequent researches of\nMallery. Cf. _Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. pp. 314, 315. Naturally, therefore,\none feels inclined to adopt a sceptical attitude with regard to Miss\nKingsley\u2019s assertion that the language of the Bubis \u201cdepends so much\non gesture that they cannot talk in it to each other in the dark\u201d\n(_Travels in West Africa_, p. 439). Cf., however, with regard to the\nelement of gesture in West African languages, Kingsley, _West African\nStudies_, p. 237.\n\n[181] Wood, _Nat. Hist. of Man_, i. p. 266 (Bushmen); Cranz, _Historie\nvon Gr\u00f6nland_, i. p. 279. As to the Australians the statements are\nsomewhat contradictory. Mr. Curr (_The Australian Race_, i. p. 93)\nsays that \u201csome tribes express a few things by signs made with their\nhands; but, on the whole, the Australian is very little given to\ngesticulation.\u201d This statement, however, has been expressly encountered\nby Mr. Stirling, who describes a very extensive system of signs. _Rep.\nHorn Exped._ iv. Anthropology, pp. 111-125. Cf. also Spencer and\nGillen, _Native Tribes_, p. 500.\n\n[182] Stirling, _l.c._ p. 112.\n\n[183] Roth, W. E., _N.W.C. Queensland Aborigines_, pp. 71 _sq._\n\n[184] Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 25.\n\n[185] Roth, W. E., _N.W.C. Queensland_, p. 71. Cf. a remark in the same\ndirection by Mallery, _Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. p. 312.\n\n[186] See Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 187; Mallery, _l.c._ pp.\n295, 307; Sayce, _Introd. Science of Lang._ i. p. 93. Compare also the\nclassic instance of Sicily, meeting-ground of so many peoples.\n\n[187] Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 25; Roth, _l.c._ p.\n71.\n\n[188] Steinen, _Unter den Naturv\u00f6lkern Central-Brasiliens_, p. 72;\nMallery, _l.c._ p. 307.\n\n[189] Mallery, _l.c._ pp. 311, 312. That the gesture-language of the\nNorth American Indians is to be explained as a result of peculiar\ngeographical conditions was remarked already by Dugald Stewart,\n_Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind_, iii. pp. 19-22.\n\n[190] Cf. the interesting descriptions of Maori political meetings\nin Earle, _New Zealand_, p. 91; Shortland, _Traditions of the New\nZealanders_, p. 171.\n\n[191] Home, _Elements of Criticism_, i. p. 435.\n\n[192] For an appreciation of pantomimic action as means of conveying\nreligious feelings see Mr. Tylor\u2019s description of the service in the\ndeaf-dumb institution of Berlin, _Early History of Mankind_, p. 33.\n\n[193] Mallery in _Rep. Bur. Ethnol._ i. p. 370.\n\n[194] Von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturv\u00f6lkern Central-Brasiliens_, p.\n244.\n\n[195] Mallery in _Rep. Bur. Ethnol._ i. p. 370. Cf. also Mallery,\n_l.c._ x. (1888-89), (Picture-writing of the N.A. Indians). That the\npictographic elements to a large extent have been influenced by the\nmanual signs was remarked already in 1836 by Rafinesque. Cf. Brinton,\n_The Lenape_, p. 152, where the merits and the priority of this\npeculiar author are vindicated.\n\n[196] Groos, _Die Spiele der Menschen_, p. 406.\n\n[197] For examples of pictorial art subservient to such purely\npractical purposes see Mallery, _l.c._ x. pp. 329-375.\n\n[198] Im Thurn, _Primitive Games_, pp. 273, 275.\n\n[199] Roth, _N.W.C. Queensland Aborigines_, pp. 117, 118. Oldfield\n(\u201cThe Aborigines of Australia,\u201d in _Trans. Ethnol. Soc._ N.S. iii. p.\n257) describes a Watchandie pantomime, imitating the proceedings of the\nwhite man in hunting whales, and composed by an old native who had some\ntime before visited the coast.\n\n[200] Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda_, ii. p. 45. For imitations of the\nwhite man in dramatic dances see also Lander, _Clapperton\u2019s Last\nExpedition_, i. pp. 120, 121; Cook, _Voyage Towards the South Pole_ (2\nVoy.), i. p. 368.\n\n[201] Cook, _Voyage Towards the South Pole_ (2 Voy.), i. p. 356\n(Huaheine).\n\n[202] Levertin, _Fars och fars\u00f6rer_, p. 78, especially the quotation\nfrom Chappuy\u2019s \u201cL\u2019avare cornu\u201d (1580).\n\n[203] For songs describing the incidents in a travel see Batchelor,\n_The Ainu_, pp. 123, 124; Chamisso, in Kotzebue\u2019s _Reisen_, iii.\np. 67 (Radack); Woods, _Native Tribes_, pp. 38, 39 (Taplin, \u201cThe\nNarrinyeri\u201d); Grey, _Journals_, ii. p. 253; Polack, _New Zealanders_,\nii. pp. 167, 168. On current events as subjects of primitive poetry\ncf. Bonwick, _Tasmanians_, p. 29; Kingsley, _Travels_, p. 66, (Bubis);\nCurr, _Australian Race_, iii. p. 169 (Mathew, _Mary River Natives_);\nMetz, _Neilgherry Hills_, p. 30 (Todas); Ahlqvist, _Acta Soc. Scient.\nFenn._ xiv. (\u201cWogulen und Ostjaken\u201d); Day, _Proceedings of the\nAs. Soc._ 1870, p. 157 (Observ. on the Andamanese); Ehrenreich in\n_Zeitschrift f\u00fcr Ethnologie_, xix. p. 32 (Botokudos); Erman, _Travels\nin Siberia_, ii. pp. 42, 43 (Ostyak songs and pantomimes).\n\n[204] Cf. Bonwick, _Daily Life and Origin of the Tasmanians_, p. 29;\nLenz, _Skizzen aus West Afrika_, pp. 110, 111 (Abongos); Schneider,\n_Die Naturv\u00f6lker_, ii. p. 235, 236 (Interior Africa).\n\n[205] Cf. Eyre, _Expeditions into Central Australia_, ii. p. 240;\nCruickshank, _Eighteen Years on the Gold Coast_, ii. p. 266.\n\n[206] St. John, _Far East_, i. p. 114 (Kayans of Baram); Petherick,\n_Egypt_, p. 130 (Hassanyeh Arabs); Mollien, _Travels_, p. 74 (Joloffs).\n\n[207] Woods, _l.c._ pp. 38, 39 (Taplin, \u201cThe Narrinyeri\u201d). Cf. the\nsolos in the Atiu canoe-song, describing the guns of Captain Cook.\nGill, _From Darkness to Light_, p. 263. On the song of the Marshall\nIslanders describing the ships of the Russian expedition, the dresses\nof the sailors, etc., see Rienzi, _Oc\u00e9anie_, ii. p. 196.\n\n[208] Varigny, _Quatorze ans aux Iles Sandwich_, pp. 18-23,\nparticularly p. 19. A short reference to the same song can be found in\nFornander, _The Polynesian Race_, ii. p. 171.\n\n[209] Steinen, _Unter den Naturv\u00f6lkern_, pp. 244 _sq._, 248, 249.\n\n[210] Hyades, in _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. p. 253.\n\n[211] Martial, _ibid._ i. p. 214.\n\n[212] Mr. Bridges\u2019 unpublished work, quoted by Hyades, _l.c._ vii. p.\n377.\n\n[213] Cranz, _Historie von Gr\u00f6nland_, i. p. 292.\n\n[214] Cranz, _l.c._ p. 229.\n\n[215] Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 47, 48; cf. Romilly, _My\nVerandah in New Guinea_, p. 87.\n\n[216] Kleinschmidt, in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, xiv. 1879, p.\n268. (\u201cReisen auf den Viti Inseln. Insel Vatu Lele\u201d). Williams, _Fiji_,\npp. 99, 142; Spencer, _Descriptive Sociology_, Division I. Nr. iii. p.\n60.\n\n[217] Letherman, in _Smithsonian Report_, 1855, pp. 295, 296 (The\nNavajo tribe).\n\n[218] Cf. Matthews, _Navaho Legends_, pp. 22-26, where the assertions\nof Dr. Letherman are quoted and opposed.\n\n[219] Cook. (1st) _Voyage_, p. 388; Lubbock, _Prehistoric Times_, p.\n426; Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, iii. p. 78.\n\n[220] Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes_, ii. p. xii.\n\n[221] Schoolcraft, _l.c._ i. p. 18.\n\n[222] Lubbock, _l.c._ p. 426.\n\n[223] Kane, _Wanderings_, p. 179.\n\n[224] See _infra_, p. 175.\n\n[225] With regard to the traditional art of the Australian natives\ncompare Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, pp. 220 _sq._ 473, 485;\nLloyd, _Tasmania and Victoria_, p. 466.\n\n[226] Cf. _e.g._ Steinen, _Durch Central Brasilien_, pp. 266, 267, on a\nYuruna dance.\n\n[227] Cf. Bourke, _Scatologic Rites_, p. 25.\n\n[228] Bourke, \u201cThe Medicine-men of the Apache,\u201d in _Rep. Bur. Ethnol._\nix. 1887-88.\n\n[229] Cf. Bourke, _Scatologic Rites_, pp. 6, 7, 64, and the author\u2019s\n_F\u00f6rstudier till en konstfilosofi_, pp. 114, 119.\n\n[230] Bourke, _The Snake-Dance of the Moquis_, pp. 178, 179.\n\n[231] Cf. the author\u2019s _Skildringar ur Pueblo folkens konstlif_ (The\nArt-life of the Pueblo-Indians), _passim_.\n\n[232] Cf. Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. p. 797.\n\n[233] Cf. especially Fewkes, \u201cThe Snake Ceremonials at Walpi,\u201d in\n_Journ. American Ethnology and Arch\u00e6ology_, vol. iv., especially pp.\n119, 124.\n\n[234] A detailed account of these prayers has been given in _Pueblo\nfolkens konstlif_, passim.\n\n[235] Cf. Tylor, _Prim. Culture_, i. pp. 392 _sq._\n\n[236] Mooney, in _The American Anthropologist_, iii. pp. 108, 109 (\u201cThe\nCherokee Ball-Play\u201d).\n\n[237] Groos, _Die Spiele der Menschen_, pp. 246, 247.\n\n[238] R\u00e9clus, _Les Primitifs_, p. 356. For some unmistakable examples\nof myths secondary to the corresponding rites see Spencer and Gillen,\n_Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 443.\n\n[239] Cf. Abercromby, _Pre-and Proto-historic Finns_, i. pp. 358, 359,\nii. p. 41.\n\n[240] Erman, _Travels_, ii. pp. 50, 51.\n\n[241] Lubbock, _Origin of Civilisation_, pp. 356 _sq._\n\n[242] Cf. Kingsley, _Travels_, p. 473. On the difficulty of deciding\nwhether a given piece of sculpture is to be interpreted as an idol\nor as a merely memorial portrait, see Brinton, _Report upon the\nCollections_, etc., p. 33.\n\n[243] Schweinfurth, _Artes African\u00e6_, pl. viii. f. 5; Cruickshank,\n_Eighteen Years on the Gold Coast_, ii. pp. 270, 271; Schmeltz,\n_Ethnol. Abtheil. des Mus. Godeffroy_, p. 241.\n\n[244] Codrington, _The Melanesians_, pp. 173, 174. The same views have\nbeen expressed by Finsch, _Ethnologische Erfahrungen_, pp. 255-257;\n_Samoafahrten_, pp. 47-49, 75, 175.\n\n[245] Polack, _New Zealand_, i. pp. 115, 116, 236, 237; Robley, _Moko_,\npp. 88 _sq._ Cf. about \u201cMoko\u201d-tattooing as a means of recognising\nindividuals, living or dead, Robley, _l.c._ pp. 131, 146, 147, 159.\n\n[246] Andree, _Ethnographische Parallelen_, i. pp. 258-261. The remarks\nof Herr Andree have been emphatically supported by von den Steinen,\n_Unter den Naturv\u00f6lkern Central Brasiliens_, p. 244; cf. also Hoffman,\n_Ethnographic Observations_, in U.S. Geol. and Geogr. Survey, 1876,\nespecially p. 475.\n\n[247] Im Thurn, _Indians of Guiana_, pp. 403-410. On similar grounds\nthe application of Herr Andree\u2019s theory to the North American\nPetroglyphs has been opposed by Mallery, in _Rep. Bur. Ethnol._ x. pp.\n28, 29 (\u201cPicture-writing of the American Indians\u201d).\n\n[248] Svoboda, in _Archiv f\u00fcr Ethnographie_, v. pp. 162, 163. Cf. also\nMeyer, _Bilderschriften des Ostindischen Archipels_, p. 1.\n\n[249] Cf. Grey, _Journals_, ii. p. 310.\n\n[250] As typical illustrations of this class of legends we may instance\nthe Polynesian poems quoted by Fornander, _The Polynesian Race_, ii.\n12-19, 284-286.\n\n[251] Cf. pp. 160, 161, in the preceding, and Gill, _From Darkness to\nLight_, pp. 248-264.\n\n[252] See Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. p. 286; iv. pp. 79, 101,\n105; Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p. 125; Polack, _New\nZealanders_, ii. p. 167; and, above all, the collection of traditional\nwar-poetry from the Hervey Group, published by Gill in _From Darkness\nto Light_.\n\n[253] Cf. above, p. 165.\n\n[254] Oviedo, _Histoire des Indes_, pp. 69, 70; Markham, in the\nIntroduction to his translation of _Ollanta_, pp. 1, 2; Spencer,\n_Descr. Soc._ ii. pp. 13, 68, 70, 71; Forbes, _Dahomey_, ii. p. 13. On\nhistorical songs among the military tribes of Africa cf. also Shooter,\n_The Kafirs_, p. 268; Burton, _Lake Regions_, i. p. 263 (Wagogos).\nAs regards the influence of war on early Arab poetry see Posnett,\n_Comparative Literature_, p. 133.\n\n[255] Cf. _e.g._ the humble traditions of the Kubus, as quoted by\nForbes, _Wanderings_, p. 243.\n\n[256] Laing, _Travels_, p. 186 (Village Kamia); Dobrizhoffer, _The\nAbipones_, ii. pp. 430, 431.\n\n[257] Parker, _Aborigines of Australia_, pp. 25, 26; Howitt in _Journ.\nAnthr. Inst._ xiii. pp. 453, 454 (Australian ceremonies of initiation),\nand Cameron in the same journal, xiv. p. 358 (Tribes of N.S. Wales);\nthe last two instances quoted in Frazer, _Totemism_, p. 47. See also\nFison, \u201cThe Nanga,\u201d in _J. A. I._ xiv., esp. p. 22, on an initiation\nceremony in Fiji, representing the ancestors lying dead and coming\nto life again, which curiously resembles Collins\u2019s description and\npictures of an Australian initiation (Collins, _N.S. Wales_, i. p.\n575). For a somewhat analogous drama in East Africa see Dale, _Journ.\nAnthr. Inst._ xxv. p. 189 (Bondi country). For interpretation of all\nthese rites see Frazer, _Totemism_, p. 47; and _The Golden Bough_, ii.\npp. 343-359.\n\n[258] Carver, _Travels_, pp. 175-180; Schoolcraft, _Information_, v.\npp. 428 _sq._ Both quoted by Frazer. To be compared with the initiation\ninto the Secret Society of Nkimba\u2014Ward in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxiv.\npp. 288, 289 (Congo tribes).\n\n[259] Crane, _Bases of Design_, p. 189.\n\n[260] Cf. Haddon, _Evolution in Art_, pp. 220, 221.\n\n[261] Brown, _Hist. of the Origin and Rise of Poetry_, pp. 49, 50.\n\n[262] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 103, 124, 125; cf. also ii.\npp. 436, 437, and _The Origin of Species_, i. p. 109.\n\n[263] Ribot, _Psychologie de l\u2019attention_, pp. 44, 45.\n\n[264] Espinas, _Des soci\u00e9t\u00e9s animales_, p. 284.\n\n[265] Brehm, _Thierleben_, v. pp. 601, 602; cf. also Wallace, _Tropical\nNature_, p. 199.\n\n[266] Nilsson, _Foglarna_, ii. p. 56; Lloyd, _Game Birds and Wild\nFowl_, p. 81.\n\n[267] Geddes and Thomson, _The Evolution of Sex_, p. 28.\n\n[268] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 107-109, 252.\n\n[269] Cf. Wallace, _Tropical Nature_, pp. 196-198, _Darwinism_, p. 284;\nWestermarck, _Human Marriage_, pp. 244, 250.\n\n[270] Wallace, _Tropical Nature_, pp. 193, 209, 210, 213; _Darwinism_,\npp. 284, 287, 292, 294.\n\n[271] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. p. 103.\n\n[272] Cf. Wallace, _Darwinism_, p. 293; _Tropical Nature_, p. 199.\n\n[273] Cf. Schneider, _Der Thierische Wille_, p. 367.\n\n[274] Cf. about the relation between sexual ripening and the\ndevelopment of the vocal organs, Buffon, _Hist. nat. des oiseaux_, i.\npp. 21, 22.\n\n[275] For some suggestive remarks in this direction see Espinas, _Des\nsoci\u00e9t\u00e9s animales_, p. 313; and the anonymous paper on \u201cThe Descent of\nMan\u201d in _The Quarterly Review_, 1871, vol. cxiii. p. 62.\n\n[276] Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, pp. 245, 249.\n\n[277] Lindsay, _Mind in the Lower Animals_, i. p. 252, 253; ii. pp.\n126, 219, 220; Grant Allen, _The Colour Sense_, pp. 119, 157, 167;\nRomanes, _Animal Intelligence_, p. 247.\n\n[278] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 123-125; Nilsson,\n_Foglarna_, i. pp. 202, 206; Lindsay, _Mind in the Lower Animals_, ii.\np. 152; Cornish, _Life at the Zoo_, pp. 101-103, 105, 106.\n\n[279] Romanes, _Darwin_, i. p. 381; B\u00fcchner, _Liebe und Liebes-Leben_,\np. 52.\n\n[280] Beccari, \u201cLe capanne dell\u2019 Amblyornis inornata,\u201d in _Annali del\nmuseo civico di storia naturale di Genova_, ix. pp. 382-391.\n\n[281] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. p. 77.\n\n[282] Cf. especially the dresses of _Homophania insectivora_,\n_Petasophora cyanotis_, and _Steganura underwoodi_, as depicted in\nMulsant, _Hist. nat. des oiseaux-mouches_, Pl. 62, 91a, 110.\n\n[283] Binet, _Le f\u00e9tichisme dans l\u2019amour_, etc., pp. 257 _sq._\n(_L\u2019intensit\u00e9 des images mentales_).\n\n[284] Groos, _The Play of Animals_, pp. 243, 283; cf. also Hellwald,\n_Die menschliche Familie_, pp. 14-16; Van Ende, _Hist. nat. de la\ncroyance_, I. _L\u2019animal_, p. 238.\n\n[285] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 106, 107.\n\n[286] Wallace, _Darwinism_, pp. 284, 287, 292, 294.\n\n[287] Spencer, _Essays_, ii. pp. 427, 430, 431. Some of the arguments\nof Spencer had been adduced by Barrington in his polemic against\nBuffon. Cf. _Philosophical Transactions_, 1773, pp. 262, 263\n(Experiments on the singing of birds).\n\n[288] Hudson, _The Naturalist in La Plata_, pp. 280 _sq._\n\n[289] A more detailed account of this question has been given in the\nauthor\u2019s _F\u00f6rstudier till en konstfilosofi_, pp. 29, 30.\n\n[290] Espinas, _Des soci\u00e9t\u00e9s animales_, p. 328.\n\n[291] For experiments proving the invigorating effects of\ncolour-impression upon the animal organism, particularly upon insects,\nsee F\u00e9r\u00e9, _Pathology of Emotions_, p. 23.\n\n[292] Brehm, _Thierleben_, iv. p. 20; cf. also Schneider, _Der\nthierische Wille_, p. 172; Espinas, _l.c._ p. 286; Groos, _The Play of\nAnimals_, pp. 242-244.\n\n[293] Groos, _l.c._ p. 242.\n\n[294] Groos, _The Play of Animals_, pp. 244, 245; _Die Spiele der\nMenschen_, pp. 329-340.\n\n[295] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 18, 94, 110, 137.\n\n[296] _Ibid._ ii. p. 251. When advocating the Darwinian theory of\nsexual selection, Professor Poulton seems to use the notion \u201c\u00e6sthetic\nappreciation\u201d in this wide sense. Cf. _Colours of Animals_, p. 286.\n\n[297] Cf. Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 67, 74.\n\n[298] _Ibid._ ii. p. 67.\n\n[299] Nilsson, _Foglarna_, ii. p. 185.\n\n[300] _Ibid._ ii. p. 8; i. p. 509.\n\n[301] Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, pp. 200, 201, 212.\n\n[302] _Ibid._ pp. 196, 198.\n\n[303] Schurtz, _Grundz\u00fcge einer Philosophie der Tracht_, pp. 21, 57,\n77, 80.\n\n[304] As regards these various means of \u201cembellishment\u201d see the\ncollection of instances in Magitot, \u201cLes mutilations ethniques,\u201d in\n_Congr\u00e8s d\u2019anthropologie_, 1880.\n\n[305] Cf. Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, pp. 265, 266; Lippert,\n_Kulturgeschichte_, i. pp. 368, 369.\n\n[306] Cf. Brinton, _Races and Peoples_, p. 43.\n\n[307] Ahlqvist, _Muistelmia_, p. 11.\n\n[308] Humboldt, _Travels_, iii. p. 236; cf. Joest, _T\u00e4towiren_, pp. 14,\n15; Brinton, _Races and Peoples_, p. 42.\n\n[309] Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, p. 263; Lippert,\n_Kulturgeschichte_, i. pp. 402-405.\n\n[310] Cf. Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, pp. 195, 200, 201.\n\n[311] Westermarck, _l.c._ pp. 196-198; cf. also Finsch, _Ethnologische\nErfahrungen_, p. 44 (New Zealand).\n\n[312] Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen S\u00fcd-Afrikas_, pp. 58, 59; Steinen,\n_Under den Naturv\u00f6lkern_, pp. 191, 192; Lisiansky, _Voyage_, p. 86;\nMoseley in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ vi. p. 398; Finsch, _l.c._ pp. 64,\n85, 225; Roth, W. E., _N.W.C. Queensland Aborigines_, p. 113; Wilken,\n_Nederlandsch-Indi\u00eb_, pp. 37, 38; _F\u00fchrer durch das Museum f\u00fcr\nV\u00f6lkerkunde_, p. 87.\n\n[313] Roth, _l.c._ p. 114.\n\n[314] Wilken, _l.c._ p. 38; cf. also Steinen, _l.c._ pp. 195, 196.\n\n[315] Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, p. 209.\n\n[316] For some curious superstitions of this kind see Schneider, _Die\nNaturv\u00f6lker_, i. p. 269.\n\n[317] Somerville, in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxiii. p. 368 (Notes on the\nNew Hebrides).\n\n[318] Elworthy, _The Evil Eye_, pp. 16, 148-154; Schurtz, in _Archiv\nf\u00fcr Anthropologie_, xxii. p. 60 (Amulette und Zaubermittel); Svoboda,\n_Geschichte der Ideale_, i. pp. 294-296, on obscene amulets in\nclassical art. It may be remarked that ithyphallic talismans are\nespecially numerous in and about New Guinea. Cf. Schmeltz in De Clercq,\n_Nederlandsch Nieuw-Guinea_, p. 244.\n\n[319] Kleinpaul, _Sprache ohne Worte_, p. 275. Cf. also the obscene and\nindecent character of the devil dances on Ceylon\u2014Sirr, _Ceylon_, ii.\np. 52. To the same superstitious motives we may perhaps also ascribe\nthe occurrence of improper dances and pantomimes at funerals, _i.e._\nat an occasion when there is especial reason to fear the influence\nof malignant spirits. For instances of such funeral ceremonies see\nLaing, _Travels_, p. 368 (Soolimas); Metz, _Neilgherry Hills_, pp.\n77, 78 (Badagas); Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturv\u00f6lker_, vi. p. 407\n(Polynesia). The interpretation of these peculiar rites must, however,\nnecessarily be only hypothetical. For other explanations of them see\nR\u00e9clus, _Les Primitifs_, p. 242, and Svoboda, _l.c._ i. p. 557.\n\n[320] On exposure as an offence cf. the instructive instances quoted in\nEllis, _Man and Woman_, p. 61.\n\n[321] Ratzel, _V\u00f6lkerkunde_, i. p. 64. On superstitious motives for\ncovering the organs of generation cf. also Crawley in _Journ. Anthr.\nInst._ xxiv., especially pp. 441, 442 (Sexual Taboo). The Bible\ntext (Genesis ix. 21-25), which has been interpreted by Schurtz\n(_Philosophie der Tracht_, p. 56) as a case of modesty, is undoubtedly\nto be explained by reference to phallic superstitions.\n\n[322] Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, p. 125. On somewhat similar\nnotions entertained by the North American Indians, cf. the instances\nquoted in Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. p. 24.\n\n[323] Hartland, _Legend of Perseus_, i. pp. 179, 180; cf. also Marsden,\n_Sumatra_, p. 297 (Lampongs).\n\n[324] Hartland, _l.c._ i. p. 170.\n\n[325] _Ibid._ i. p. 170; Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, ii. p. 237.\n\n[326] Cf. Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, pp. 173 sq.; Joest,\n_T\u00e4towiren_, p. 56.\n\n[327] Cf. Tetens and Kubary in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, ii.\np. 16 (Yap); Kubary, _l.c._ viii. p. 133 (Pelew Islands: Gems and\nbracelets as badges and class distinctions); Angas, _Polynesia_,\npp. 293, 297 (Tahiti: different ranks among the Areoi distinguished\nby different tattooings); Schmeltz, _Ethnol. Abtheilung des Museum\nGodeffroy_, pp. 182 _sq._, 259-261, 478 _sq._ (Fiji; Marquesas Islands;\nSamoa: tattooings as connected with distinctions of rank). These facts\nare, as Schmeltz remarks, in direct opposition to the statements of\nFinsch in _Verhandlungen d. Berlin Anthropol. Gesellschaft_, 1879, p.\n414.\u2014L\u00fctke does not himself think that the richness of tattoo patterns\non the Caroline Islands stands in any relation to the rank of the\ntattooed individual; but he admits that some members of his expedition\nhad got such an impression, _Voyage_, i. pp. 359, 360. The belief of\nthe Fijians, to which so curious an analogy has been found among the\nEskimos (Lubbock, _Prehist. Times_, p. 565; Hall, _Arctic Researches_,\np. 570), that only tattooed people are entitled to happiness after\ndeath may perhaps be connected with notions of an Elysium reserved for\nindividuals of a certain rank. Cf. also _Ymer_, iv. p. 317, on the\nviews of the Pelew islanders as to nose ornaments as a condition for\nentering the realm of spirits, and Finsch, _Ethnol. Erfahrungen_, p.\n316, quoting, with reservation, Kirby on a Gilbert\u2019s Island paradise,\nopen only to the spirits of tattooed people. With regard to the African\ntribes we are unable to adduce any unambiguous instances of scars as\ndenoting rank and status. See, however, Ellis, _E\u1e83e-speaking Peoples_,\np. 146.\n\n[328] Wundt, _Ethik._ p. 152.\n\n[329] Kubary, _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, viii. p. 133 (Pelew and\nPonape Islanders).\n\n[330] Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. pp. 75, 174 _sq._, 184\n_sq._; Steinen, _Unter den Naturv\u00f6lkern_, p. 179.\n\n[331] With regard to the later developments of such triumphal signs\ncompare _e.g._ Wuttke, _Geschichte d. Schrift_, i. pp. 108 _sq._;\nWilken, _Nederlandsch-Indi\u00eb_, pp. 36, 37; Joest, _Welt-Fahrten_, ii. p.\n301 (Formosa); Burchell, _Travels_, ii. p. 535 (Bachapins).\n\n[332] Schneider, _Die Naturv\u00f6lker_, i. pp. 109, 110; Robley, _Moko_,\np. 46; Godden in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. p. 185 (Nagas); Man,\n_Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xii. p. 35, thinks that the Andamanese tattooing\nis executed \u201cprimarily as ornamental, and secondarily as proving the\ncourage of the individual and his (or her) power of enduring pain.\u201d\n\n[333] Schneider, _l.c._ i. p. 107.\n\n[334] On tattooing as a pictography compare Wuttke, _Geschichte der\nSchrift_, i. pp. 97-99, 102.\n\n[335] Stolpe, _T\u00e4towirung der Oster-Insulaner_, p. 8.\n\n[336] Cf. Sarasin, _Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. p. 511 (Magical\ncords worn by the Veddas: the custom considered to be of Singhalese\norigin); Man, _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xii. p. 86 (Bone necklaces worn by\nthe Andamanese as a cure for sickness); _Ibid._ p. 170 (Superstitious\nnotions of the Andamanese with regard to tattooing); Stevens, \u201cWilde\nSt\u00e4mme Mal\u00e2kas,\u201d in _Ver\u00f6ff. d. Mus. V\u00f6lkerkunde_, ii. p. 145 (Amulet\ncollars); Marshall, _Todas_, p. 49 (Rings and bracelets as charms);\nElliot, _Memoirs on the Races of the N. W. Provinces of India_, i.\np. 240 (Black \u201cmouches\u201d worn on the face for averting evil eye);\nBock, _Temples and Elephants_, p. 170 (Superstitious tattooings\namong Burmese and Ngious); Smyth, _Victoria_, i. p. 112; and Taplin,\n\u201cThe Narrinyeri,\u201d in Woods, _Native Tribes_, p. 21 (Hair of deceased\nworn around the head in order to make \u201cthe eyes large and the sight\nkeen\u201d); Roth, _Tasmania_, p. 76 (Bones of deceased worn as amulets);\nKingsley, _Travels_, p. 448 (Charm-gems in W. Africa); Ellis, _W.\nAfrican Sketches_, p. 9 (Bodily painting as medical cure among Fantis),\npp. 191, 192 (Tattooing supposed to strengthen a child). For further\ninteresting instances see Wuttke, _Geschichte der Schrift_, i. p. 77;\ncf. also the facts about laceration as medical cure collected on p. 67\nin the preceding.\n\n[337] Steinen, _Unter den Naturv\u00f6lkern_, p. 184.\n\n[338] _Ibid._ _l.c._ pp. 173, 186; cf. the assertions of Burton, _Lake\nRegions_, ii. p. 63 (Wajiji Tribe: Tattooing explained as a protection\nagainst the humid atmosphere); Roth, _Tasmania_, pp. 139-141.\n\n[339] Lippert, _Kulturgeschichte_, i. pp. 18, 365, 366.\n\n[340] Cf. Haddon, _Evolution in Art_, p. 203; Grosse, _Anf\u00e4nge der\nKunst_, pp. 130-133.\n\n[341] Robley, _Moko_, pp. 10-16. Cf., however, Shortland (_New\nZealand_, pp. 16, 17), who explains Moko as being only a \u201cfashionable\nmode of adornment,\u201d and Dieffenbach (_New Zealand_, ii. p. 34), who\nthinks that the use of Moko for signatures is a modern invention.\nTattooings which serve as individual marks of recognition are\nmentioned by Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 293; Fraser,\n_Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 45; Herr Koeler (_Monatsberichte\nder Gesellschaft f\u00fcr Erdkunde_, iii. p. 51) thinks that the scars of\nthe Australians\u2014\u201cthese genealogical indices\u201d\u2014may to some extent make up\nfor the want of proper names.\n\n[342] With regard to marks of tribal distinction compare the facts\ncollected by Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. pp. 72-75; Frazer,\n_Totemism_, pp. 26-30. Even those who do not believe in Mr. Frazer\u2019s\nassertion that the paintings, coiffures, tattooings, etc., aim at an\nimitation of the totem animal, will be compelled to admit that they\noften serve as means of distinguishing members of the same totem group.\nBuckland, _Anthropological Studies_, pp. 224, 225, 231 (On tattooing);\nStarcke, _The Primitive Family_, pp. 42, 62; Wuttke, _Geschichte der\nSchrift_, i. pp. 80 _sq._\n\nFurther instances, unmentioned by these authors, are to be found in\nGodden, _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. pp. 184, 185 (Nagas and other\nFrontier Tribes of North-East India); Fytche, _Burma_, i. pp. 351, 352\n(Khyengs said to tattoo their women in order to prevent their being\ncarried off by neighbouring tribes); Im Thurn, _Indians of Guiana_,\npp. 196, 305; Dobrizhoffer, _The Abipones_, ii. p. 19; Steinen, _Unter\nden Naturv\u00f6lkern Central Brasiliens_, pp. 179, 180, 190; Kingsley,\n_Travels in West Africa_, pp. 530, 531; Ellis, _West African Sketches_,\np. 191; _E\u1e83e-speaking Peoples_, p. 146; Lander, _Journal_, iii. p.\n61 (Kacundas); Johnston, _British Central Africa_, pp. 422-424; Ward\nin _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxiv. p. 294 (Congo Tribes); Wissman, _Im\nInneren Afrikas_, p. 246 (Bacubas). In his account of the Niger tribes\nM. Binger has succeeded in minutely classifying the tattoo patterns\naccording to tribes and families (Binger, _Du Niger_, etc., ii. pp.\n408-411). It is evidently impossible to decide to how great a degree\nthe uniformity in the decorative systems of the several tribes has\nits origin in an intentional endeavour to develop a distinct tribal\nappearance. It may in many cases be merely a result of limited powers\nof invention.\n\nAs to the scarification of the Australian natives the evidence seems\nto be contradictory. If we are to believe Mr. Taplin\u2019s informer,\nincisions on the body would have been used by the Noocoonas in order\nto distinguish tribes \u201cbefore whites came\u201d (Taplin, _Folklore of S.\nAustralia_, p. 65). These assertions have, however, been called in\nquestion by the informers of Curr (_Australian Race_, ii. pp. 468,\n475), by Spencer and Gillen (_Native Tribes_, pp. 42-44), and by\nStirling (_Rep. Horn Exp. IV. Anthropology_, p. 24); cf. also Roth, _N.\nW. C. Queensland_, pp. 110, 115.\n\n[343] For some further instances illustrating the use of \u201cdecoration\u201d\nfor purely practical purposes see Mallery, in _Rep. Bur. Ethnol._ x. p.\n418; Westermarck, _Human Marriage_, p. 176.\n\n[344] Finsch, _Ethnologische Erfahrungen_, pp. 283, 284 (Mikronesia);\nin _Verhandlungen d. Berlin Anthropol. Gesellschaft_, 1879, p. 414\n(Markesas Islands); and in _Zeitschrift f\u00fcr Ethnologie_, xii. p. 308\n(Ponape); Stirling in _Rep. Horn Exp._ iv. p. 31 (Central Australia);\nStokes, _Discoveries_, i. pp. 58, 59 (South-Western Australia); Bock,\n_Temples and Elephants_, pp. 170-172 (Laos).\n\n[345] Spencer, _Essays_, ii. pp. 433-435 (The Origin of Music).\n\n[346] On the stimulating influence which women may exercise on\nwarriors, and on the sensitiveness of warriors to female appreciation\nor criticism, see for example Spencer, _Descr. Soc._ Div. I. Nr. iii.\np. 60 (Tasmanians); Nr. v. p. 3 (Bedouins); Mantegazza, _Physiologie\ndes Hasses_, pp. 143-145.\n\n[347] Gurney, _Power of Sound_, p. 159, quoted by Wallaschek,\n_Primitive Music_, p. 211.\n\n[348] Wallaschek, _l.c._ pp. 210-213.\n\n[349] Hudson, _The Naturalist in La Plata_, p. 279.\n\n[350] Groos, _The Play of Animals_, pp. 244, 245.\n\n[351] Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 387-409.\n\n[352] Berchon, \u201cLe tatouage,\u201d in _Actes de l\u2019Acad\u00e9mie de Bordeaux_,\n1885, pp. 806, 807. Cf. also Joest, _T\u00e4towiren_, pp. 29, 53-55, 60-65.\nAlthough Berchon himself remarks (p. 811) that in Polynesia the\nreverence for tattooing is dying out, he has not happened to think\nthat this circumstance may have been the cause of the laxity in tattoo\ncomposition.\n\n[353] Cf. Cook, (1st) _Voyage_, pp. 206-208; cf. p. 265 (Tahiti). For\nother Polynesian erotic dances see Marques in _Boletim da Sociedade de\nGeographia de Lisboa_, viii. p. 60 (Samoa); Turner, _Samoa_, p. 125;\nGill, _South. Pacific_, p. 20 (Hervey Islands); Rienzi, _Oc\u00e9anie_,\niii. p. 160 (Maori Slave Girls). On Polynesian dance parties, arranged\nin order to bring into notice the daughters of the chiefs and nobles,\ncf. Gill, _From Darkness to Light_, pp. 29, 253 (Mangaia); Ellis,\n_Pol. Res._ i. pp. 215-217 (Tahiti); Vancouver, _Voyage_, i. p. 119.\n(Tahiti). Examples of similar dances and pantomimes, often in plain\nconnection with sexual orgies, can be found among Australians and\nMelanesians. Cf. especially Eyre, _Expeditions into Central Australia_,\nii. p. 235; Mathew in Curr, _Australian Race_, iii. pp. 168, 169 (Mary\nRiver Natives). Koeler in his list of Australian words describes\n\u201cKorrobbora\u201d as an obscene dance-pantomime performed by men before the\nwomen; _Monatsber. d. Ges. f\u00fcr Erdkunde zu Berlin_, iii. p. 53; Mathews\nin _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. pp. 226-228 (Kamilaroi); Woods, _Native\nTribes_, p. 38 (Taplin, \u201cThe Narrinyeri\u201d), p. 243 (Sch\u00fcrmann, \u201cPort\nLincoln Tribe,\u201d men and women dancing some rounds together); Spencer\nand Gillen, _Native Tribes_, p. 381. Few of these facts, however,\nentitle us to assume a simple purpose of _pleasing_ the opposite sex.\n\n[354] Burton, _Zanzibar_, i. pp. 430, 431; Ellis, _West African\nSketches_, p. 226 (Country Dance in Mankessin); Laing, _Travels_, pp.\n104, 105 (Timannees); Nachtigal, _Sah\u0103r\u00e2 und S\u00fbd\u00e2n_, i. pp. 101, 102\n(Murzuk, Fezz\u00e2n); Sparrman, _Resa_, i. p. 421 (Hottentots). For general\ndescriptions of this kind of dancing see Fr. M\u00fcller, _Allgemeine\nEthnographie_, p. 172.\n\n[355] Marsden, _Sumatra_, p. 298 (Lampong Country); Brenner, _Besuch\nbei den Kannibalen_, p. 331 (Sumatra); Joest, _Weltfahrten_, ii. pp.\n159, 160 (Seram); Blumentritt, _Filippinen_, p. 17 (Tagals), p. 41\n(Catalangaus).\n\n[356] Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, pp. 196-198 (Hos and Mundaris);\nLewin, _Wild Races_, pp. 123-125 (Khyoungtha Love Songs), p. 188\n(Chukma Songs); M\u00fcller, _l.c._ p. 471 (Kolh Dances).\n\n[357] Dalton, _l.c._ pp. 142-144 (Bhuiyas).\n\n[358] _Ibid._ pp. 135, 149, 300.\n\n[359] _Ibid._ p. 196.\n\n[360] Lewin, _Wild Races_, pp. 123-125.\n\n[361] _Ibid._ p. 188.\n\n[362] Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, pp. 349-352; Brenner, _Besuch bei den\nKannibalen_, pp. 328 _sq._ (Bataks); Forbes, _Wanderings_, p. 149;\nMarsden, _Sumatra_, pp. 197, 198, 267; Rienzi, _Oc\u00e9anie_, i. pp. 134,\n135, all on poetry from Sumatra; Blumentritt, _Filippinen_, p. 17;\nJagor, _Filippinen_, p. 236 (Bisayas); Martin, _Mollukken_, pp. 292,\n293; Hickson, _Celebes_, pp. 272-274, 301-304.\n\n[363] Curr, _Australian Race_, iii. pp. 168, 169.\n\n[364] Cf. on the erotic poetry in Tahiti, Cook, (3rd) _Voyage_, ii. p.\n149; on Maori erotic poetry, Dieffenbach, _New Zealand_, ii. p. 57.\n\n[365] Morgan, _Iroquois_, pp. 260, 284-287; Baker, _Musik der\nNordamerikanischen Wilden_, p. 56.\n\n[366] Cf. Brinton, _Essays_, pp. 293-297; Markham, _Ollanta_, pp. 1, 2.\n\n[367] Hyades, _Mission Scientifique_, vii. p. 377; cf. p. 239.\n\n[368] Bailey, _Trans. Ethnol. Soc._ N. S. ii. p. 301; Davy, _Ceylon_,\np. 118; Deschamps, _Au pays des Veddas_, pp. 386-389; Emerson Tennent,\n_Ceylon_, ii. p. 450; Hoffmeister, _Travels_, p. 164; Sarasin,\n_Ergebnisse_, iii. pp. 512-518, 546; Schmidt, _Ceylon_, pp. 73, 74; De\nZoysa, _Journ. Ceylon Br. R. A. S._ 1881, p. 114,\u2014all on Vedda dancing.\n\nSarasin, _l.c._ pp. 510, 519-523; Bailey, _l.c._ p. 289; Deschamps,\n_l.c._ pp. 386 _sq._; Nevill in _The Taprobanian_, ii. pp. 121-127; De\nZoysa, _l.c._ pp. 98-115,\u2014all on Vedda poetry.\n\n[369] See Fritsch, _Eingeborenen S\u00fcd-Afrikas_, pp. 425, 426; Holub,\n_S\u00fcd-Afrika_, ii. pp. 465, 469, 470; and the interesting communication\nin _The Academy_, 1878, p. 463.\n\n[370] Roth, W. E., _N. W. C. Queensland Aborigines_, pp. 119, 120,\n131; Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes_, passim (On the elaborate\ndecorations and paraphernalia used in the dramatic rites of\ninitiation); Hill and Thornton, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, pp. 7,\n8; Lang, _Australia_, pp. 28, 29.\n\n[371] Cf. Darwin, _The Descent of Man_, ii. pp. 400, 401, 418.\n\n[372] Scott, \u201cSex and Art,\u201d in _American Journal of Psychology_, vii.,\nespecially p. 183.\n\n[373] Cf. B\u00fcchner, _Liebe und Liebes-Leben_, p. 53.\n\n[374] Savage, _New Zealand_, pp. 84, 85; Ellis, _Polynesian Res._ i. p.\n217 (Tahiti); Gill, _The South. Pacific_, p. 20; Romilly, _My Verandah\nin New Guinea_, p. 88.\n\n[375] Sarasin, _Ergebnisse_, iii. p. 518.\n\n[376] Cf. _e.g._ Johnston, _British Central Africa_, p. 408; Crawley,\n\u201cSexual Taboo,\u201d _passim_, in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxiv.\n\n[377] Cf. _e.g._ L\u00fctke, _Voyage_, ii. pp. 276, 277, on Tschuktschi\ndance; Cook, (3rd) _Voyage_, i. p. 251, on the dance of the Hapaee\nwomen, some of the motions in which would, by a European, be thought\nrather indecent, though perhaps they meant only to display the\nastonishing variety of their movements.\n\n[378] Reeves, _Brown Men and Women_, p. 160.\n\n[379] Curr, _Austr. Race_, iii. p. 169 (Mathew, Mary River), on songs\ndescribing the charms of a sweetheart. \u201cSuch songs are only known to a\nfew individuals, and are sung in private.\u201d\n\n[380] Cook. (3rd) _Voyage_, ii. p. 149.\n\n[381] Spencer, _Descr. Soc._ Division I. Nr. v. p. 30.\n\n[382] Cf. Johnston, _British Central Africa_, p. 408.\n\n[383] Schurtz, _Das Augenornament_, pp. 49, 54.\n\n[384] Cf. p. 217 in the preceding.\n\n[385] Mathews in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxiv. p. 424.\n\n[386] Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen S\u00fcd-Afrikas_, p. 140.\n\n[387] Johnston, _British Central Africa_, p. 408.\n\n[388] Kidd, _Social Evolution_, p. 279; cf. Spencer, _Principles of\nSociology_, i. pp. 88, 89.\n\n[389] Johnstone, _Maoria_, p. 43.\n\n[390] Cf. Burton, _Mission to Gelele_, i. pp. 46, 51, 210, 267, 382;\nii. p. 10; Forbes, _Dahomey_, i. p. 24.\n\n[391] Woods, _Native Tribes_, p. 37 (Taplin, \u201cThe Narrinyeri\u201d).\n\n[392] Burton, _Mission to Gelele_, i. pp. 149, 150; Acosta, _History of\nthe Indies_, ii. p. 444. For European trade dances see, _e.g._, B\u00f6hme,\n_Tanz in Deutschland_, i. pp. 63 _sq._, 209.\n\n[393] F\u00e9r\u00e9, _Sensation et mouvement_, p. 4.\n\n[394] Cf. Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. p. 48.\n\n[395] Rengger, _Saeugethiere von Paraguay_, p. 12.\n\n[396] Cf. the facts adduced by Rengger, _l.c._ p. 11.\n\n[397] Salvado, _Voyage en Australie_, pp. 182, 183.\n\n[398] As regards the general psychology of musical and poetical\nexhortation to work cf. Chardin, _Voyages_, i. p. 160, quoted in\nB\u00fccher\u2019s _Arbeit und Rhythmus_, pp. 48, 367. For typical instances\nsee Reade, _The African Sketch Book_, ii. p. 313 (Krumen); Wissman,\n_Unter deutschen Flagge_, p. 43 (West African Carriers); Burton,\n_Lake Regions_, ii. p. 291 (East Africa); Grove, _Dancing_, p. 16\n(Egypt); Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, pp. 317, 345; Lewin,\n_Wild Races_, p. 271 (Lhoosai); Thomson, _New Zealand_, i. p. 167;\nDieffenbach, _New Zealand_, ii. p. 57.\n\n[399] Cf. The satirical and erotic boat songs of the Gold Coast\nNegroes\u2014Winterbottom, _Africans of Sierra Leone_, i. p. 112, and the\nhistorical and erotic ploughing songs of the ancient Peruvians\u2014Markham,\n_Ollanta_, pp. 1, 2.\n\n[400] A collection of such working songs from among various civilised\nnations has been brought together by Professor B\u00fccher in his _Arbeit\nund Rhythmus_.\n\n[401] Cf. _e.g._ the interesting chapter on mill songs in B\u00fccher\u2019s\nabove-mentioned work. As an addendum to this collection we may adduce\nthe corn-grinding song of the Mapuch\u00e9 women\u2014Smith, _The Araucanians_,\np. 306.\n\n[402] Noir\u00e9, _Der Ursprung der Sprache_, pp. 331 _sq._\n\n[403] Cf. _e.g._ Lenz, _Skizzen aus Westafrica_, pp. 198, 199, on the\nexciting effects exercised by tam-tam music on the Okandes.\n\n[404] See the boat-building songs of the Hervey Islanders (Gill, _South\nPacific_, p. 22), which form so striking an analogy to the magical\n\u201cRunos\u201d of the old Finns. Cf. also Mason, _Origins of Invention_, p.\n150 (Maoris).\n\n[405] Lagrange, _Physiologie des exercises du corps_, pp. 32-35;\nSouriau, _L\u2019esth\u00e9tique du movement_, pp. 58, 59.\n\n[406] F\u00e9r\u00e9, _Sensation et mouvement_, p. 12.\n\n[407] Cf. the dynamogenic experiments of F\u00e9r\u00e9, _Sensation et\nmouvement_, pp. 13, 14, and the remarks of Schmidkunz, _Psychologie der\nSuggestion_, p. 222.\n\n[408] B\u00fccher, _Arbeit und Rhythmus_, p. 261; Polack, _New Zealanders_,\ni. p. 222; ii. pp. 31-32 (on the chiefs who, standing up in the canoes,\ndirect the rowing with help of their spear-truncheons); Kollman, _The\nVictoria Nyanza_, p. 164 (Ussukuma).\n\n[409] Cf. pp. 87-91 in the preceding.\n\n[410] Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. pp. 271, 272.\n\n[411] Laing, _Travels_, pp. 252, 253; Brenner, _Kannibalen Sumatras_,\np. 258; Shortland, _Traditions and Superstitions of the New\nZealanders_, pp. 140, 144, 145, 150.\n\n[412] Vodskov, _Sj\u00e6ledyrkelse og Naturdyrkelse_, pp. lxxix.-lxxxi.;\nRatzel, _V\u00f6lkerkunde, I. Einleitung_, p. 89.\n\n[413] On songs and dances connected with boating see Muller, _Industrie\ndes Cafres_, p. 47; Burton, _Gorilla Land_, i. pp. 166, 167; Spencer,\n_Descr. Soc._ Div. i. Nr. 3, p. 62 (Javanese); Angas, _Savage Life_, i.\np. 102 (Australia, canoe dance of the Rufus); Smyth, _Victoria_, i. pp.\n174, 175 (Australian canoe dance); Rienzi, _Oc\u00e9anie_, iii. p. 159 (New\nZealand), and the facts collected by B\u00fccher, _Arbeit und Rhythmus_, pp.\n180-191.\n\n[414] B\u00fccher, _l.c._ pp. 200-202.\n\n[415] Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. pp. 553-555, 567-574.\n\n[416] Mitchell, _The Past in the Present_, p. 192; Groos, _Die Spiele\nder Menschen_, pp. 435, 437.\n\n[417] Cf. Wallaschek in _International Congress of Psychology_, 2nd\nSession, p. 75.\n\n[418] Cf. _e.g._ Lafitau, _M\u0153urs des sauvages_, i. p. 522 (\u201cLes\nIroquois, et les autres sauvages leurs voisins\u201d); Powers, _Tribes of\nCalifornia_, p. 29 (Karok).\n\n[419] Cf. Forbes, _Dahomey_, ii. p. 61. Mr. Forbes\u2019s admiration for\nthe discipline and order displayed in the mass movements will be well\nunderstood by all who witnessed the Dahomeyan dances performed at the\nCrystal Palace in the summer season 1893.\n\n[420] Thomson, _New Zealand_, i. pp. 126, 127; Earle, _New Zealand_,\np. 70; Mundy, _Our Antipodes_, pp. 129, 183; Shortland, _Trad. and\nSuperst. of the New Zealanders_, pp. 150-152.\n\n[421] Cruise, _New Zealand_, pp. 30, 31.\n\n[422] Bidwill, _Rambles in New Zealand_, pp. 81, 82.\n\n[423] On ensemble and exact time in dancing cf. Cook, (1st) _Voyage_,\npp. 206-208 (Tahiti); (3rd) _Voyage_, i. p. 188 (Wateoo), pp. 247, 248,\n255 (Hapaee); Ellis, _Pol. Res._ i. p. 215; Marques in _Boletim_, etc.,\nviii. p. 59 (Samoa); Reeves, _Brown Men and Women_, p. 158 (Samoa);\nWilliams, _Fiji_, p. 142; Kleinschmidt in _Journ. d. Mus. Godeffroy_,\nxiv. p. 268 (Fiji); L\u00fctke, _Voyage_, i. p. 383 (Ualan. Caroline\nIslands); Tetens and Kubary in _Journ. d. Mus. Godeffroy_, ii. p. 23\n(Yap, Caroline Islands); Hernsheim, _Sudsee-Erinnerungen_, p. 34 (Yap).\n\nThe same virtues have also been admired in Australian dancing. See\n_e.g._ Fraser, _Aborigines of N.S. Wales_, p. 66; Smyth, _Victoria_, i.\np. 168; ii. p. 294; Woods, _Native Tribes_, pp. xxxii., xxxiii., 272.\nCf. also Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, pp. 254, 255 (Or\u00e1ons); Lewin,\n_Wild Races_, p. 227 (Kumis); p. 313 (Shendoos).\n\n[424] Fritsch, _Eingeborenen S\u00fcd-Afrikas_, p. 91 (Ama Xosa); Casalis,\n_The Basutos_, p. 147 (Kaffir and Basuto dance).\n\n[425] Fritsch, _l.c._ p. 328. The authority of Herr Fritsch gives\nsufficient credit to this assertion, although it is in direct\nopposition to the statement of Kolbe, _Reise_, pp. 530, 531. Herr\nFritsch\u2019s account of Hottentot dancing is, moreover, in substantial\nagreement with Sparrman\u2019s description, _Resa_, i. pp. 375, 376.\n\n[426] Cf. with regard to the employment of horns, drums, pipes, etc.,\nas military signals, Wallaschek, _Primitive Music_, pp. 88, 99, 100,\n104, 111-113.\n\n[427] See, for instance, the descriptions of Khond warfare in Spencer,\n_Descriptive Sociology_, Division I. Nr. 5, p. 17 (quoting Campbell,\n_Khondistan_, p. 42), and the reflections of Mr. Bidwill on Maori\ncourage as dependent upon musical and saltatory stimulation, _Rambles\nin New Zealand_, pp. 82, 83. As these instances refer to tribes which\nhave been noted for the personal bravery which they develop when\nexcited, the need of artificial excitement must be far stronger among\ntimid tribes.\n\n[428] Cf. the acute reflections of Cook, (1st) _Voyage_, p. 344.\n\n[429] Beecham, _Ashanti_, p. 211; Schoolcraft, _Information_, i. pp.\n79, 80 (Dacotas); Wood, _Nat. Hist. of Man_, i. p. 116 (Kaffir war\nmedicine).\n\n[430] Kubary on Micronesian war tattooings in Joest, _T\u00e4towiren_, p. 80.\n\n[431] Mann in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N. S. v. p. 295 (Kaffirs);\nLivingstone, _Miss. Travels_, pp. 198, 199 (Makololo dance\ndemonstration as a preparation to an intended fight); Schoolcraft,\n_Information_, iv. p. 62 (Dacotas dance when they come in the\nneighbourhood of the enemy\u2019s country); Schomburgk, _Guiana_, ii.\n(Macusis); Cook, (1st) _Voyage_, pp. 467, 468, and Angas, _Savage\nLife_, i. pp. 328, 329 (Maoris); Cahusac, _La danse_, i. p. 108, on the\nancient Ethiopians, quoting Lukianos.\n\nEthnological literature affords numberless descriptions of dances\nperformed as an exercise to battle. As in the present connection we\nhave only to deal with means of stimulation, which immediately precede\nthe real action, all these instances are not to the point.\n\n[432] Carver, _Travels_, pp. 174, 175; Schoolcraft, _Information_, iii.\np. 187, quoting Colden (of 1747) on the Iroquois; Acosta, _History\nof the Indies_, ii. p. 444 (Peru); cf. also Lang, _Australia_, p.\n29; Blumentritt, _Filippinen_, p. 16 (Tagal excitement during the\nperformance of war-pantomimes).\n\n[433] Heckewelder, _Hist. of the Indian Nations_, p. 209; Schoolcraft,\n_Information_ ii. p. 59 (N.A. Indians in general); v. pp. 526, 684\n(Chippewas and Comanches); Morgan, _Iroquois_, pp. 268, 339; Burton,\n_City of the Saints_, p. 177 (Prairie Indians); Casalis, _The Basutos_,\npp. 334, 335; Czervinski, _Geschichte des Tanzes_, pp. 251, 252\n(Hungary).\n\n[434] Joest, _Weltfahrten_, ii. pp. 160, 161. On a similar institution\namong the Negroes see Mantegazza, _Physiologie des Hasses_, p. 318.\n\n[435] Grey, _Journals_, ii. p. 303; cf. also Calvert, _Western\nAustralia_, p. 32; Salvado, _Voyage_, p. 182.\n\n[436] Sproat, _Scenes and Studies_, p. 190.\n\n[437] Cf. especially the quotations from Dupuis in Spencer, _Descr.\nSoc._ Division I. Nr. 4, p. 47 (Ashantis); Ellis, _Pol. Res._ i. p. 287\n(Tahiti); Cook, (1st) _Voyage_, p. 344 (New Zealand).\n\n[438] Dobrizhoffer, _The Abipones_, ii. pp. 366, 367, 422-424, 427;\nThomson, _New Zealand_, i. pp. 126, 169.\n\n[439] Dobrizhoffer, _l.c._ pages adduced above; Steinen, _Durch\nCentral-Brazilien_, p. 175, cf. also p. 165.\n\n[440] Cf. Dobrizhoffer, _l.c._ ii. pp. 376, 385 _sq._\n\n[441] Cf. Ellis, _Pol. Res._ i. p. 286 (Tahiti); Spencer, _Descr. Soc._\nDivision I. Nr. 3, p. 15 (Fiji); Thomson, _New Zealand_, i. p. 128;\nPritchard, _Pol. Rem._ p. 56; Wood, _Nat. Hist. of Man_, ii. pp. 58,\n59, 280, 356 (Australia, Fiji, Samoa).\n\nHow great a part of the boastful expressions of contempt for the enemy\nplays in the warfare of the American tribes can be seen from Heriot,\n_Travels_, p. 449 (Iroquois). Cf. also Eyre, _Expeditions into Central\nAustralia_, ii. p. 224; Schweinfurth, _Im Herzen von Afrika_, ii. p. 25\n(Niam Niam); Shooter, _The Kafirs_, pp. 197-199; Wood, _Nat. Hist. of\nMan_, i. p. 581 (Cammas).\n\n[442] Wood, _Nat. Hist. of Man_, i. p. 581. A typical and instructive\nexample of undangerous warfare on the Marshall Islands is described by\nFinsch in _Ethnologische Erfahrungen_, p. 392.\n\n[443] Bidwill, _Rambles in New Zealand_, p. 81; cf. Cook, (3rd)\n_Voyage_, pp. 161, 162.\n\n[444] (Maning), _Old New Zealand_, p. 49; Polack, _New Zealanders_, i.\np. 88; ii. pp, 166, 167.\n\n[445] Polack, _l.c._ i. p. 28.\n\n[446] Richardson, _Arctic Expedition_, i. p. 356; Bancroft, _Native\nRaces_, i. p. 68.\n\n[447] Angas, _Savage Life_, ii. pp. 149, 150; Wood, _Nat. Hist. of\nMan_, ii. pp. 161, 162.\n\n[448] Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 79.\n\n[449] Cf. Grosse, _Anf\u00e4nge der Kunst_, pp. 58-60.\n\n[450] Wuttke, _Geschichte der Schrift_, p. 74, quoting Silius Italicus,\nAelianus, and Valerius Maximus. Further quotations adduced in Farrer,\n_Military Manners and Customs_, pp. 222-224. Cf. also Letourneau, _La\nguerre_, p. 153.\n\n[451] Cf. the remarks of Wood in _Nat. Hist. of Man_, ii. p. 599.\n\n[452] Clavigero, _The History of Mexico_, i. p. 371.\n\n[453] As to magical paintings on banners, standards, and shields, see\nHein, _Die bildenden K\u00fcnste bei den Dayaks auf Borneo_, pp. 71, 72. Cf.\nalso the old Slavonic traditions related by Nagele in _Zeitschrift f\u00fcr\nV\u00f6lkerpsychologie_, xvii. p. 278 (Der Schlangen-Cultus).\n\n[454] Joest, _T\u00e4towiren_, p. 20; Polack, _New Zealanders_, i. p. 28\n(Tahiti deformations of the skull).\n\n[455] Bancroft, _Native Races_, i. pp. 101, 105 (Thlinkeets).\n\n[456] Romilly, _My Verandah_, p. 42; Finsch, _Samoafahrten_, p.\n91, Atlas, Tafel xxii.; _Ethnologische Erfahrungen_, p. 99 (Motu,\nNew Guinea), p. 243 (Kaiser Wilhelms Land, New Guinea), p. 630\n(Bismarck-Archipel). Some fine specimens to be seen in the British\nMuseum.\n\n[457] In later times, however, the Dyaks have begun to avail themselves\nfor this purpose of the hair of their deceased. Cf. Hein, _Die\nBildenden K\u00fcnste bei den Dayaks_, p. 74.\n\n[458] Hein, _Die Bildenden K\u00fcnste bei den Dayaks auf Borneo_, p. 85.\n\n[459] Marryat, _Borneo_, pp. 14, 15, 74-76; Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_,\npp. 80, 81.\n\n[460] Hein, _l.c._ p. 19.\n\n[461] For detailed arguments on this point see the author\u2019s _F\u00f6rstudier\ntill en konstfilosofi_, chap, iv., \u201cOn Gracefulness.\u201d\n\n[462] Cf. the illustrations in Hamilton\u2019s _The Art Workmanship of the\nMaori Race_.\n\n[463] Earle, _New Zealand_, pp. 160, 161; cf. also Johnstone, _Maoria_,\np. 50.\n\n[464] Cf. especially the specimens translated in Schoolcraft,\n_Information_, ii. pp. 59 _sq._\n\n[465] See the specimens of leather, bone, and textile works preserved\nin ethnological collections, especially in Mus\u00e9e de Trocad\u00e9ro, Paris.\n\n[466] Cf. Posnett, _Comparative Literature_, p. 133.\n\n[467] Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, vol. i. p. 102; Lang, _Myth,\nRitual, and Religion_, i. pp. 94-100; Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, i.\npp. 9-12, 193-206. For further instructive instances see Ellis, _E\u1e83e\nPeoples_, pp. 98, 99; _Tshi Peoples_, pp. 108, 109; Curr, _Australian\nRace_, i. pp. 45-48; Woods, _Native Tribes_, pp. 23-26 (Facts referring\nto Polynesia and Australia); Kotzebue, _Entdeckungsreise_, ii. p. 20\n(Hawaji); Dieffenbach, _New Zealand_, ii. p. 59; Musters, _Patagonia_,\np. 12 (Tehuelches).\n\n[468] See literature on the Couvade, and on the precautions to be\nobserved by men who expect to become fathers. We cannot here dwell on\nthe interesting theories, according to which totemistic doctrines and\nregulations ought to be interpreted as based upon the conception of\na quite material substratum, connecting for eternity with each other\nall individuals and generations of the same family. However fantastic\nthey may have appeared, the probability of these views has undeniably\nbeen increased by the publication of those hitherto unknown details of\nAustralian ceremonialism that have been brought to light by Messrs.\nSpencer and Gillen. But in questions like these it seems almost\nimpossible to discriminate between symbolical ideas and actions on the\none hand, and magical practices based on a real belief on the other.\n\n[469] Cf. Andree, _Ethnographische Parallelen_, Neue Folge, p. 46;\nHartland, _The Legend of Perseus_, ii. p. 267.\n\n[470] Cf. Rochas, _L\u2019ext\u00e9riorisation de la sensibilit\u00e9_, pp. 117-139.\n\n[471] _Ibid._ p. 72.\n\n[472] For the most illustrious and at the same time most lucid\nstatement of this analogy see the remarks of Milton in the preface to\n_Samson Agonistes_.\n\n[473] Cf. the curious instances and interpretations in Bri\u00e8re, _Essai\nsur le symbolisme_, pp. 38-41.\n\n[474] For dramatic elements in the ceremonies of rain-making, see\nFrazer, _The Golden Bough_, i. pp. 13-18, 20; B\u00e9renger-F\u00e9raud,\n_Superstitions et survivances_, i. chap. viii.; iii. pp. 177-207;\nGrimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, pp. 593-595 (vol. ii.); Lang, _Myth,\nRitual, and Religion_, i. pp. 97, 98; ii. p. 78. Further instances in\nRoth, _N. W. C. Queensland_, pp. 167, 168; Woods, _Native Tribes_, pp.\n276-278 (Gason, \u201cDieyerie Tribe\u201d); Williams, _Fiji_, p. 194; Dalton,\n_Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 261 (Oraons); Skeat, _Malay Magic_, p. 108;\nWeston in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. p. 30 (Highlands of Central\nJapan); Stevenson in _Rep. Bur. Ethn._ 1889-90, pp. 80, 94, 110, 111,\n115, 116 (The Sia); Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_, pp. 227,\n228; Bonghi, _R\u00f6mische Feste_, p. 181. Equally interesting is the\ncurious kind of negative magic that is practised by the Javanese \u201crain\npreventers.\u201d See _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, pp. 68-70 (J.\nKreemer, \u201cRain Preventers\u201d).\n\n[475] Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, i. pp. 22, 23; Grove, _Dancing_, p.\n85; Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_, pp. 186-188, 243 _sq._\n\n[476] Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, pp. 764-772 (vol. ii.); Ralston,\n_l.c._ pp. 210, 244-246; Zacher, \u201cKampf des Sommers und Winters,\u201d in\n_Globus_, xxxi. pp. 266-269, 284-286.\n\n[477] B\u00e9renger-F\u00e9raud, _l.c._ v. pp. 177-266; Hartland, _The Legend of\nPerseus_, i. pp. 173, 174; Soldi, _La langue sacr\u00e9e_, p. 317 (France);\nPowers, _Tribes of California_, p. 169 (The Senel).\n\n[478] Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, pp. 429-431 (Sinhalese); Fraser,\n_Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 65.\n\n[479] That the priests who in dance and drama impersonate a god are\nconsidered\u2014and perhaps also consider themselves\u2014as embodiments of this\ngod is a view the probability of which is borne out by many details\nof religious ritualism. If definite proofs are wanted we need only\nrefer to the express statements of the Zu\u00f1i Indians as related by Mrs.\nStevenson, _Rep. Bur. Ethn._ 1889-90, p. 116 (Stevenson, \u201cThe Sia\u201d);\n1883-84, p. 549 (Stevenson, \u201cReligious Life of the Zu\u00f1i Child\u201d).\n\n[480] Fairer, _Primitive Manners and Customs_, pp. 65, 66. This view\nmay of course also be applied to the interpretation of \u201cpictorial\nprayers,\u201d such as _e.g._ the wonderful sand-mosaics of the Pueblo\nIndians.\n\n[481] Collins, _The English Colony of N.S. Wales_, i. p. 367.\n\n[482] As regards this almost universal practice see the collection\nof instances in Tylor, _Early History_, pp. 277-279; and _Primitive\nCulture_, ii. p. 146; Peschel, _V\u00f6lkerkunde_, p. 274; Stoll,\n_Suggestion und Hypnotismus_, pp. 166, 167. Further instructive\ninstances in Brinton, _Nagualism_, p. 11 (Modern Mexico); Castr\u00e9u,\n_Nordiska Resor._ i. p. 137 (Russian Lapps); Casalis, _The Basutos_,\np. 280; Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 281 (Australia). Winterbottom,\n_Native Africans of Sierra Leone_, i. pp. 252, 253, adduces some\nethnological examples, and refers for comparison to Paracelsus.\n\n[483] B\u00e9renger-F\u00e9raud, _Superst. et surviv._ i. pp. 523-540; cf. also\nGaidoz, _Un vieux rite medical_, pp. 73-84.\n\n[484] Nyrop, \u201cKludetraedet\u201d in _Dania_, i., particularly pp. 21-23; cf.\nalso _Dania_, i. p. 310; iii. pp. 139-141.\n\n[485] Lenormant, _Magie und Wahrsagekunst der Chald\u00e4er_, p. 73; Rochas,\n_L\u2019ext\u00e9riorisation de la sensibilit\u00e9_, pp. 74-113 (rich collection of\ninstances referring to savage tribes, to medi\u00e6val Europe, and to modern\nfolklore); further instances in Skeat, _Malay Magic_, pp. 569-574;\nRomilly, _Western Pacific_, p. 35 (New Britain); Selenka, _Sonnige\nWelten_, p. 215 (Japan). That this crude superstition has been at\nthe bottom of many ceremonies which, from our point of view, appear\npurely symbolical is shown by the curious death-sentences on absent\ncriminals\u2014to be executed in effigy, \u201cjusqu\u2019\u00e0 mort s\u2019en suive\u201d\u2014which M.\nTarde has unearthed from among the old law-proceeds of P\u00e9rigord. Tarde,\n_\u00c9tudes p\u00e9nales et sociales_, p. 241.\n\n[486] Cf. as to dolls representing the corn spirits, Frazer, _The\nGolden Bough_, i. pp. 332-346.\n\n[487] Haddon in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ xix. p. 427 (Tribe of Torres\nStrait; Models of Dugong used as charms to attract the fishes); Woldt\nin _Arch, f\u00fcr Ethnographie_, i. p. 106 (Kultusgegenst\u00e4nde der Golden\nund Giljaken; sculptures of fishes used for the same purpose by the\nGolds); Spencer, quoting Motolinia, _Descr. Soc._ Div. ii. Nr. 2, p. 39\n(similar customs among the old Azteks).\n\n[488] Cf. especially the Sinhalese masks representing the symptoms of\nvarious diseases as exhibited in the Museum f\u00fcr V\u00f6lkerkunde in Berlin.\n\n[489] On images of children worn by barren women in order to remove\nsterility see Binger, _Du Niger_, ii. p. 230 (Agnis, Wolofs); Casalis,\n_The Basutos_, p. 251; Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 213; Powers, _Tribes\nof California_, p. 318 (Nishinam). In this connection we may also refer\nto the bird-shaped amulets of the North American Indians, which by some\nauthors have been explained as emblematic of maternity. Cf. Abbott,\n_Primitive Industry_, p. 370. Whether they also have been thought of as\npossessing a magical efficacy is, however, impossible to decide.\n\n[490] Guaita, _Sciences maudites_, ii., i. p. 185.\n\n[491] Raffles, _History of Java_, i. pp. 375, 376. For a similar\nreasoning cf. Skeat, _Malay Magic_, pp. 23, 24.\n\n[492] Bock, _Temples and Elephants_, p. 245.\n\n[493] Rochas, _L\u2019ext\u00e9riorisation de la sensibilit\u00e9_, p, 101.\n\n[494] Cf. _e.g._ Gooneratne in _Journ. Ceylon Branch R. Asiatic Soc._\n1865, 1866, p. 71 (Demonology in Ceylon); Skeat, _Malay Magic_, pp. 45,\n571. The same combination of the two classes of magic, as applied to a\nmedical cure, is instanced by Walhouse in _Journ. Anthr. Inst._ iv. p.\n372 (Account of a leaf-wearing tribe).\n\n[495] Cf. Ellis, _Yoruba Peoples_, pp. 99, 278; _Tshi Peoples_, pp. 98,\n101, 176, 195.\n\n[496] Schurtz in _Abhandlungen d. S\u00e4chs. Ges. d. Wissensch._ Ph. Cl.\nxv. p. 52, quoting De Clercq en Schmeltz, _Nieuw Guinea_, p. 185. For\nan interesting analogy see De Landa, _Relation des causes de Yucatan_,\np. 199.\n\n[497] Schurtz, _l.c._ p. 47. Cf. with regard to other means of\nanimating idols by contact, Brenner, _Kannibalen Sumatras_, pp. 225,\n226; Pleyte Wzn in _Globus_, lx. p. 289 (Religi\u00f6se Anschaungen der\nBataks).\n\n[498] Matthews, The Mountain Chant, in _Rep. Bur. Ethn._ 1883, 1884,\nespecially pp. 426, 427.\n\n[499] Cf. the Kalmuck tales quoted in Stoll, _Suggestion und\nHypnotismus_, p. 31.\n\n[500] Cf. Lucretius, _De rerum natura_, iv. vv. 1-1035.\n\n[501] Cf. the facts collected by R\u00e9clus in his pamphlet, _L\u2019\u00e2me comme\nsouffle, ombre et reflet_, and by Frazer in _The Golden Bough_, i. pp.\n143-149.\n\n[502] Rochas, _L\u2019ext\u00e9riorisation de la sensibilit\u00e9_, p. 103.\n\n[503] Andree, _Ethnographische Parallelen_, Neue Folge, p. 19.\n\n[504] Cf. Ellis, _E\u1e83e-speaking Peoples_, p. 98.\n\n[505] Cf. as the perhaps most typical example, Matthews, \u201cThe Prayer of\na Navajo Shaman,\u201d in _The American Anthropologist_, i. (1888).\n\n[506] Cf. _e.g._ Svoboda, _Gesch. d. Ideale_, i. pp. 495, 496.\n\n[507] Cf. the theories of R\u00e9clus and Svoboda referred to in p. 217,\nnote 4, of the preceding.\n\n[508] Cf. _e.g._ the typical instances of Naga funeral ceremonies\ndescribed by Dalton in _Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 40.\n\n[509] This interpretation seems to be indicated _e.g._ in the case of\nthe rope-pulling at Chukma funerals (Lewin, _Wild Races_, p. 185).\nAs to the use of tugs of war for purposes of agricultural magic cf.\nHaddon, _The Study of Man_, pp. 270-276.","title":"The origins of art; a psychological & sociological inquiry","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":101889}