CHAPTER VIII. OF DREAMS, ILLUSIONS, NORMAL AND ABNORMAL HALLUCINATIONS,
DELIRIUM, AND MADNESS--CONCLUSION (CONTINUED...)
The entification of images is still more direct and powerful because in
this morbid crisis the necessary corrections made by reason cannot take
place, since the sick man is for the time deprived of it, and he is in
fact a dreamer, whose condition is intensified by abnormal excitement.
Entification is now displayed in its nude and native state, and serves
to explain the constant mental process, and the true nature of the
representations of the intellect. The transition is easy from delirium
to madness, for although an insane person is not always delirious, but
sometimes calm and composed, yet there is a fundamental resemblance to
delirium in the change in his states of consciousness and its relative
organs, which imply a constant hallucination. The most famous and acute
physicians of the insane estimate that eighty out of a hundred insane
persons are subject to hallucinations. The morbid condition which
generates them is also produced by debility, by anemia, and the senile
decay of the cerebral organs, since they occur in dementia, idiocy, and
old age, and the physiological and mental causes are the same; the power
of fixing the attention and governing the thoughts is diminished, owing
to the weakening of the vivid consciousness of the external world,
produced by a torpidity of the afferent organs. In these cases the
recollections which are not altogether lost sometimes reappear as
hallucinations. The hallucinations of madness, in its various forms of
dementia, idiocy, and dotage, are all, apart from their morbid and
organic conditions, derived from the same source which produces myths,
dreams, and normal hallucinations; the objective entification of images
is due to the innate faculty of the perception, which leads to the
immediate personification of any given phenomenon. We have shown that,
given a sensation, there naturally arises the implicit notion of a
subject and a cause, and this natural impulse is further developed by
the influence of heredity; both in man and animals the constant and
powerful sense of individual life is infused into the phenomenon
perceived.
The various forms of madness throw a clearer light on this necessary and
primitive fact of human and animal perception. The act of sensation may
then be said to be under its own direction, and generates itself in the
automatic exercise of the brain, as in dreams, without the explicit,
disturbing, and modifying influence of reflection, and the habit of
rational analysis. The act of sensation is spontaneously completed and
developed in and with its own constituents, and since it is isolated
from other modes and exercises of thought, its real nature appears. The
hallucinations of madness, produced by the mental realization of images,
either detached or in association, prove that all our mental images or
ideas have a tendency in themselves to become real objects of
consciousness; with this difference, that a sane man recognizes these
mental entifications by their mobility and incessant alterations, which
contrast with the fixity and permanence of external and cosmic
phenomena.
The following considerations will confirm the truth of these facts. In
our advanced state of civilization, thought may, after so many ages'
exercise, almost be said to have become part of the organism by the
indisputable effect of heredity; and the phenomenon of the recurrence to
memory of past facts and distant places is obvious and intelligible,
since our judgment of them is never subject to illusion, or only in rare
instances and in abnormal conditions. But this judgment is less obvious
and easy in the case of primitive savages who have advanced little
beyond the innate exercise of the intelligence. The rational analysis of
the states of consciousness has not been made, and hence their special
and general distinctions are seen with difficulty or not seen at all.
Consequently the primitive and natural amazement of man must have been
great, when by day, and still more in the lonely silence of night,
persons, places, and his own past acts recurred to his mind, and he was
able to contemplate them as if they were actually present. He was
incapable of giving an explanation of this marvelous fact in the
rational and reflective manner which is possible to psychologists and to
all civilized men. This revival of the past appeared to him as a fact in
its simple and spontaneous reality; he made no attempt to explain it,
but it was presented to his consciousness like all other natural facts.
The only explanation of the phenomenon appeared to him to be that these
images did not recur to the mind by the necessary action of the brain,
but that by their own spontaneous power they were recalled to take
their part within his breast: he supposed the phenomenon to be
objective, not subjective.
Prophecy, for instance, was often supposed to be a recollection, and
some primitive accounts of the genesis of things, handed down by
tradition, were reputed to be inspired, and objectively dictated to the
mind. The Platonic theory of reminiscence relies on these conceptions.
The power which recalled the images to memory was supposed to be
external, and identical with that which raises up the images of dreams;
primitive man traced a fanciful identity between the phenomena of memory
and of dreams, and the distinction between them was not supposed to
consist in the actual images, but in the modes of their appearance in
the waking or sleeping state. The images assumed in the memory a
relative reality, somewhat resembling those of dreams. In fact, some
savages do not clearly distinguish between the images of these states,
and see little difference between the spontaneous recollection of
things, the fancy, and dreaming. This also occurs in children, who at a
very early age often call by name absent persons and things which recur
to their memory; and on the other hand they do not distinguish the facts
of real life from those of dreams. I have observed this fact in several
children.
Among primitive peoples it often happens that an object with which they
are unfamiliar, but which has some analogy with those with which they
are acquainted, becomes associated with the latter, and is constituted
into a compound being, endowed with life. The Esquimaux believed the
vessels commanded by Ross to be alive, since they moved without oars.
When Cook touched at New Zealand, the inhabitants supposed his ship to
be a whale with sails. The Bosjesmanns ascribed life to a waggon, and
imagined that it required the nourishment of grass. When an Arauco saw a
compass, he believed that it was an animal; and the same belief has been
held by savages of musical instruments, such as grinding organs, which
play tunes mechanically. Herbert Spencer mentions similar behaviour in
some men belonging to one of the hill tribes in India; when they saw Dr.
Hooker pull out a spring measuring tape, which went back into its case
of itself, they were terrified and ran away, convinced that it was a
snake. From these facts, which might be multiplied indefinitely, it not
only appears that everything is spontaneously animated by man, but also
that the images of his memory are fused with those which are actually
present, since their respective factors are esteemed to be equally real.
This primitive objection of the images of the memory also occurs in the
mythical representations of dreams, which, as the images of absent
objects, have much in common with the images of the memory. In fact, all
peoples, as we have seen, have believed in the reality of dreams.
The North American Indians believe in the existence of two souls, one of
which remains in the body while the other wanders at pleasure during
the dream. The New Zealander supposes that the dreamer's soul leaves his
body, and that he meets the things of which he dreams in the course of
his wanderings. The Dyak also believes that the soul is absent during
sleep, and that the things seen in dreams really occur. Garcilasso
asserts that this was likewise the Peruvians' belief. A tribe in Java
abstains from waking a sleeper, since his soul is absent in dreams. The
Karens say that dreams are what the _la_ or soul sees during sleep. This
theory is also found among more civilized peoples, as for instance in
the Vedic philosophy and the Kabbala, and it has come down to our days
among the common people, and even among those of some culture.
One belief connected with dreams, generally diffused among all savage
and civilized peoples, is that of the appearance of dead men, or of
their ghosts. Of this all the traditions and popular myths in the world
are full. Such a belief, first excited by the vision of the dead in
dreams, is easily aroused in the savage or uneducated mind, even when he
recalls to memory while he is alone, and especially at night, the image
of one whom he loved in life. Affection, and the lively emotion of
sorrow and desire give such a life-like appearance to these images that
they become objectively present to the mind, to console the mourner, or,
on the other hand, to threaten the murderer. I have more than once heard
persons of all classes, after the death of children, of a husband or
wife, whom they have injured or imagine that they have injured, either
during life or by not fulfilling their last wishes, declare in all good
faith that the form of the dead is often present to their memory and
visible while they are awake; thus implying that the dead mercifully
appear to comfort their mourning friends, or else to reproach them for
not fulfilling their promises. In a word, these images did not seem to
them to be subjective, and an ordinary phenomenon of the memory, but
objective and personal apparitions within the soul. The cases are not
rare in certain dispositions of mind, in which the projection of these
images on the memory gradually produces madness. We must not forget that
psychical phenomena in general are very differently regarded by the
savage and the civilized man, since the latter is accustomed to
analysis, and to the real distinctions of things. If this canon is
forgotten we shall fall into grave errors in the attempt to interpret
the evolution and primitive history of thought and of humanity.
We shall more readily understand the nature and genesis of all these
hallucinations, and of normal and abnormal illusions, if we study
another phenomenon of frequent occurrence which I myself have often had
occasion to observe. I mean the illusion or hallucination which does not
consist in the absolute projection of an internal image with an external
semblance of reality, but which presents it in the twilight as an
object of uncertain form, either in a room or out of doors. It often
happens, as I and others have experienced from childhood, that a dress
or other object lying by chance on a chair, or on the ground, or hanging
on a piece of furniture or a peg, seen in connection with the other
things near it, is transformed into a person or animal, in a sitting or
standing posture or lying at full length, as if it had been a spectre or
phantasm; somewhat like the figures which we all take pleasure in
tracing in the strange and mobile forms of clouds. The fantastic figure
sometimes appears instantaneously and at the first glance, sometimes it
is only gradually made out; but in both cases, as we shall see, its
genesis is the same. Although in the former case that which in the
latter is gradually developed _appears_ to be developed all at once, yet
in reality it passes through the same stages.
Let us now consider the second mode; and in order to be perfectly
accurate, I will describe one out of many apparitions which I saw so
recently that its gradual formation is retained distinctly in my memory.
On a small three-legged table beside my bed there was a little oval
mirror, on which hung a woman's cap, which fell partly over the glass:
there was also an easy chair, on which I had thrown my shirt before
going to bed, while my shoes were as usual on the floor. I awoke towards
morning, and as I chanced to look round the large room, in the uncertain
light of a night-light which was almost burnt out, my eyes fell upon
the easy chair. Immediately I seemed to see a head above it,
corresponding to the mirror, and a vague and confused image of a person
seated there. As I am accustomed to do in similar cases, I closed my
eyes for a little, and on reopening them I looked at the appearance with
attention and interest; this time the person or phantasm had a less
confused outline, although I did not see the form distinctly, nor the
features, nor its precise position. Yet in this second observation, I
obtained an idea of it as a whole, and in details.
On further examination the face and person stood out more clearly, and
the features became more distinct, the longer I looked. Each accidental
fold or shadow on the cap was transformed into bright eyes, strongly
marked eyebrows, into the nose, mouth, hair, beard, and neck; so that as
I went on I had before me a perfectly chiseled face corresponding to
the type which had first flashed across my mind as the confused
impression of a face conveyed by the cap and mirror. The same process of
evolution was pursued with respect to the limbs, the breast, arms, legs,
and feet; parts of the body which at first appeared to be vague and
indeterminate gradually, and as if by enchantment issued distinctly from
every fold of the shirt, from every shadow, angle, and line, so as to
compose what Dante would call _una persona certa_. Finally I saw before
me a man dressed in white, of an athletic form, sitting in the easy
chair and looking fixedly at me: the whole body was in harmony with the
head, which had first resulted from the rude resemblance to a human
face. The image appeared to me so real and distinct that on rising from
the bed and gradually approaching it, its form did not vanish, even when
I was near enough to touch the object which produced it. An analysis
showed that the features, limbs, and position corresponded in every
point with the folds and relative position of the articles of dress
which had formed it. A similar process, issuing in such apparitions, is
a frequent cause of illusions, which in the case of ingenuous,
superstitious, and primitive peoples, may lead to the firm conviction
that they have seen an apparition. This has certainly been the case in
primitive and even in civilized times, and has given occasion to myths,
legends, and the worship of tutelary deities and saints.
If we consider the causes of such a phenomenon, and analyze its elements
and motives, we shall, I think, discover that it goes far to explain
many normal and abnormal hallucinations.
In the first place, there is in man a deep sense of the analogies of
things, partly developed by the organic tendency to regard any given
object of perception as subjective and causative, and to infuse into it
our own animal life, a tendency confirmed by education and the practice
of daily life. Such analogies, which find their expression in metaphor,
are very vivid and persistent in the vulgar and in those persons who
approximate most closely to the primitive ingenuousness of the
intelligence. The most frequent analogies are between natural phenomena
and objects and animal forms. Analogies are also found between the
various forms of inanimate natural objects, but the former are more
usual, and especially those which refer to the human form. There are
numerous and familiar instances of the names of men or women given to
mountains, rocks, and crags, because they have some remote resemblance
to some human feature or limb. Every day we may be called upon to see a
face in some mountain, stone, or trunk of a tree, in the outline of the
landscape, a wreath of mist or cloud. We are told to observe the eyes,
nose, mouth, the arms and legs, and so on.[35] Every one must remember
to have often heard of such resemblances, even if he has not himself
observed them. All the facts and laws which we have observed explain why
the sudden appearance of some vague form in an uncertain light,
reminding us in a confused way of the human figure, instantly causes us
to trace a resemblance to man rather than to any thing else. It must be
noted, as my experiment has already proved, that in this first sketch
of a phantasm in human form, a general, though indefinite type of the
whole figure has spontaneously arisen, to which it is made to
correspond. This is the key to the ultimate perception of the
phenomenon. What may be called the prophetic type of the figure which
will afterwards appear to us in all its details, although it may seem to
be produced by external resemblance, is in fact the product of the mind,
which has been unconsciously exercised in its construction.
In fact, out of the immense variety in faces, and in the general form of
persons, of gestures, fashions of dress, attitudes in rest and motion,
which are indelibly impressed on the memory, every one constructs
general types for himself; types which are revealed in the allusions
made in our daily conversation to the resemblances which we are
continually observing. These remain in the memory, with all the manifold
resemblances, as well as the ideal of certain types in which the
numerous forms we have seen and compared are formulated. We know that
when the memory has been dormant, which is often the case, it may be
awakened by the stimulus of association, of analogy, or of will, so as
to reproduce the forgotten ideas and sensations which are thus again
presented to the consciousness. When, therefore, one or more objects are
seen in an uncertain light, so as to present a confused appearance of
the human form, its general lineaments are unconsciously made by us to
correspond with the human type already existing in the memory, and this
type presides in the subsequent composition of the reproducing artist
who observes the phantasm. The unconscious mental labor which is
accomplished in the reproducing cellules of past impressions and ideas
by the instantaneous creation of the type, gathers round this type the
form and features corresponding with it, which had its earlier existence
in our own experience. The external pose and indefinite modification of
the objects appear to correspond with the gradual mnemonic revival of
the typal form, and they reciprocally stimulate and react on each other.
For while a fold, shadow, or line of the objects seen appear to
correspond with some feature of the mnemonic type, on the other hand, a
fold, shadow, or outline of the object recalls a feature of the inward
phantasm composed by the memory.
In this process the mnemonic details which are in accordance with the
pre-existing type, and sometimes also in accordance with some remarkable
face or person which was the first to present itself to the mind, serve
as a model for the accidental form of the external object or objects
which correspond to it; this in its turn recalls features which remain
in the memory, and in this way the external form of this particular
phantasm is gradually chiseled into full relief. The more intently we
regard the object which is modified to suit the mental image, the more
perfectly they agree together, and the apparition stands out with more
vivid distinctness. This will be the experience of every one to whom
such a phenomenon appears, and a dispassionate analysis of all the
phases of this fact must fully confirm our theory.
Such a fact, which is implicitly included in the general law we have
laid down for the origin of myth, will also as I think throw further
light on the origin of many hallucinations, both in normal conditions of
mind and in the abnormal state of nervous disorders. The different
appearances of objects, animals, and men, the voices, words, songs, and
conversations seen and heard in these hallucinations, are produced, by
an internal impulse as well as by a stimulus from without; they are
internal in the images and sensation already unconsciously impressed
upon the memory, and they are external in the accidentally modified form
in which they occur in sensible objects, so that they act reciprocally
as an incentive and impulse to each other.
If in normal hallucinations the vividness of the internal image is in
certain physiological conditions projected outwardly, the configuration
and accidental form of the external objects contribute to complete the
composition in accordance with the nature and design of this internal
image. Sometimes the physiological conditions of hallucination are so
powerful that it is at once produced by the appearance of an object
which has some analogy with the mental image. Whatever may be the
genesis and primitive character of the idea of space, and its psychical
and physiological relations to actual space--a question which has been
the theme of so much discussion in our time--it is certain that first
habit and then hereditary influence cause us to have the sensation and
apprehension of a psychical space, which may be termed artificial and
congenital, and upon which the various impressions of the senses are
spontaneously projected. Of this there is an evident proof in the fact
that if we look at the sun or any bright object, such as the windows of
a room in the day time, and then close our eyes, so as to make the
vision of external space impossible, the image of the sun, sometimes of
a different color, or of the window, is projected into the darkness at
some distance from us, and moves about this psychical space. This
phenomenon also occurs in the subjective sensations of hearing, since
the sounds do not appear to be close to the ear, but at a distance. We
are not here called upon to discuss the causes which generate the
appearance of this psychical space, but the fact is indisputable; so
that conversely it becomes intelligible how the internal image may be
projected in the same way, or may at least appear to be externally
projected in hallucinations. This surprising phenomenon is only a
modification of the ordinary exercise of the psychical and physiological
faculties in the projection of images; of which, after the idea of space
has been formed by primitive experience, habit and education are the
chief factors.
Hallucinations, in the cases observed above, are due to an external
impulse; and this is especially the case in madness and other nervous
disorders; since a critical observation and clear discernment of things
is wanting, some object of vision, a voice, phrases, or sounds are much
more apt to act as a stimulus to a vast field of visual hallucinations,
or to a long succession of sentences and speeches. It is not, therefore,
wonderful that in an ecstasy, for instance, in which all the faculties
are concentrated on very few ideas and images, or perhaps on one only,
every external sign, whether obvious to sight or hearing, combined with
the mnemonic effort already explained, is modified to correspond with
these vivid and exalted images; thus constituting the wonderful
phenomenon of ecstasy. In such a case the ecstatic phenomenon in persons
subject to these nervous affections is often invested with fresh wonders
by the additional sensations of light and subjective colors; this is
not uncommon even in persons of a sane mind and body, but undoubtedly it
is more frequently the case in those whose mental and physical
conditions are abnormal. It is not rare to hear an ecstatic person
recount divine visions, suffused with extraordinary light and glory.
In order to contribute to the researches of others into the nature of
this phenomenon, I must be permitted--not from vanity, but from a
desire that my own imperfections may serve the cause of science however
slightly--to relate some facts, personal to myself, which bear upon the
question, facts of very general experience. From my childhood I have
had, both by day and night, various subjective sensations of light which
I was, as a person of perfectly sane mind, able to observe
dispassionately. After reading for a long while, or when fatigued by
sleeplessness, mental excitement, or some temporary gastric derangement,
I see clear flames circling before my eyes. These are in a small, oblong
form, arranged at brief intervals in concentric curves, and composing a
moving garland projected upon space, tinged with a yellowish light,
shading into vivid blue. Sometimes this figure is changed for stars,
twinkling in a vast and remote space, as in a firmament. In addition to
this phenomenon, I have about twenty times in the course of my life
experienced other subjective and more extraordinary sensations of light,
not unknown to others. This phenomenon occurs when I am in a normal
condition of health, and always begins with a confusion of sight, so
that I am unable to see objects and the faces of people distinctly;
after which everything within the range of vision becomes mobile and
tremulous. This state continues for ten minutes, and then clear and
distinct vision returns. Next a lucid circle, zigzagged in acute
angles, appears close to the eyes, now on the right, now on the left.
It moves in a somewhat serpentine course, and is broken in the centre of
the lower half. It withdraws from the eye into subjective space, and the
shining band of which it is composed gradually loses its sharp angles,
and becomes wider and undulated, while still in motion.
Another remarkable sensation follows. The shining band, which has
dilated until it is withdrawn from the eyes, whether closed or open, to
an apparent distance of several yards, becomes tinted with all the
colors of the rainbow, standing out in such vivid splendor on the dark
background that I have never seen them equaled in nature. Indeed the
beauty of this phenomena is amazing. The band, inlaid with various
colors, now occupies the whole space, maintaining an equal distance
from the closed eyes, and moving continually with a rhythmic undulation,
while it constantly becomes more vivid. The moving circle continues to
dilate until it slowly fades, and at last completely disappears. From
its beginning to the end, the vision occupies from twenty to twenty-five
minutes.
Throughout the phenomenon I continue to be perfectly collected and free
in mind, so that I can observe it in all its details with perfect
calmness, and can also impart my observations to the persons with whom I
happen to be. Only when the subjective sensation has ceased, I feel an
obscure pain in the brow of the eye in which the phenomenon occurred.
This is readily explained by the well-known interlacing of the nerves,
and the action of the hemispheres.
Supposing that such phenomena occur, as they more readily do, in persons
predisposed to nervous affections, although not insane, in times and in
a society agitated by religious excitement, or in persons habitually
contemplative and occupied with spiritual images and thoughts; if in
moments of ecstatic emotion they should perceive, in addition to the
images proper to such conditions, these circling flames, which is very
likely to be the case, or the iridescent aureole we have described, they
would certainly accept and glorify the heavenly vision revealed to them.
The revolution of the bright stars or iridescent band, preceded by the
obscurity of vision which accompanies the ordinary ecstatic
hallucination, would certainly be ascribed to the saints or angels, and
would thus become more supernatural and consonant with the believer's
idea of heaven; and these very subjective sensations might often produce
the ecstatic vision, so ready to appear in the morbid conditions which
lead to hallucination.
According to the process previously described, by which the phenomenon
of natural hallucinations is produced by an external stimulus, these
luminous phenomena would revive the memory of angelic and saintly forms,
of which men were so profoundly conscious in times of religious
excitement, and would be regarded as their external signs, while they
would at the same time stimulate the appearance of such angelic
visions. Ultimately this would lead to the vast drama of celestial
hallucinations described for us in the accounts of many ecstatic
visions. They do not only occur in modern religions, but in those of the
old heathen, and in the rude and unformed beliefs of savages. The
ethnography of the most savage peoples of our time teaches us that the
origin of very many myths is to be found in normal and abnormal
hallucinations, and in the luminous visions which conform to their
mental conditions. Persons subject to nervous affections, from simple
epilepsy to madness and idiocy, were and still are supposed to be
inspired, and endowed with the power of prophesying and working
miracles; they are also venerated for relating the strange visions
presented to them in the crisis of their disorder. Africa, barbarous
Asia, America, Oceania, and the ignorant and superstitious people in
Europe itself, abound with such facts; they have occurred and are likely
to recur in civilized peoples of all times, including our own, as we
know only too well.
We have thus reduced the primitive origin of myth, of dreams, of all
illusions, of normal and abnormal hallucinations, to one unique fact and
genesis, to a fundamental principle; that is, to the primitive and
innate entification of the phenomenon, to whatever sensation it may be
referred. This fact is not exclusively human in its simple expression
and genesis, since it occurs in the lower animals; evidently in those
which are nearest to man, and by the necessary logic of induction in
all others, according to their sensations and modes of perception. In
the vast historic drama of opinions, beliefs, religions, mythical and
mytho-scientific theories which are developed in all peoples; and again,
in the infinite variety of dreams, illusions, mystic and nervous
hallucinations, all depend on the primitive and unique fact which is
also common to the animal kingdom, and identical with it; in man this is
also the condition of science and knowledge. I think that this
conclusion is not unworthy of the consideration of wise men and honest
critics, and that it will contribute to establish the definitive unity
of the general science of psychology, considered in the vast animal
kingdom as a whole, and in connection with the great theory of
evolution.
This primitive act of perception, the radical cause and genesis of all
mythical representations, and the physical and intellectual condition of
science itself, is also one of the factors and the aesthetic germ of all
the arts. The constraining power which generates the intentional
subjectivity of the phenomenon, and the entification of images, ideas,
and numerous normal and abnormal appearances, also unconsciously impels
man to project the image into a design, a sculpture, or a monument.
Since an idea or emotion naturally tends, as we have seen, to take an
external form in speech, gesture, or some other outward fact; so also it
tends to manifest itself materially and by means of various arts, and to
take the permanent form of some object. It is embodied in this way, as
it was embodied in fetishes in the way described in the foregoing
chapters. Owing to this innate cause, and by the instinct of imitation
which results from it, children as well as savages always attempt some
rude sketch of natural objects, or of the fanciful images to which they
have given rise. Drawings of animals and some other objects are found
among the lowest savages, such as the Tasmanians and Australians. Nor is
this fact peculiar to the lower historic races, and to those which are
still in existence, but it is also to be found in the dwellings and
remains of prehistoric man; carvings on stone of very ancient date have
been found, coeval with extinct and fossil animals, prior to the age of
our flora and fauna and to the present conformation of land and water.
There are many clear proofs of the extreme antiquity of the primitive
impulse to imitative arts. A stag's meta-tarsal bone, on which there was
a carving of two ruminants, was found in the cave of Savigny: in a cave
at Eyzies there was a fragmentary carving of two animals on two slabs of
schist; at La Madelaine there were found two so-called staves of office,
on which were representations of a horse, of reindeer, cattle, and other
animals; two outlines of men, one of a fore-arm, and one of a naked man
in a stooping position, with a short staff on his shoulder; there is
also the outline of a mammoth on a sheet of ivory; a statuette of a thin
woman without arms, found by M. Vibraye at Laugerie-Basse, and known by
the name of the immodest Venus; a drawing representing a man, or
so-called hunter, armed with a bow, and pursuing a male auroch, going
with its head down and of a fierce aspect; the man is perfectly naked,
and wears a pointed beard. Other designs of the chase and of animals
afford a clear proof of the remote period at which the primitive
instinct towards the imitative arts existed.
It is peculiar to man to portray things and animals, and to erect
monuments out of a superstitious feeling, or to glorify an individual or
the nation; the bower-birds and some cognate species may perhaps be
regarded as an exception, since they show a certain sense of beauty, and
an extrinsic satisfaction in gay colors, which indeed appears in many
animals. But art in the true sense and in its essential principle are
the act and product of man alone, of which I have demonstrated the cause
and comparative reasons in another work, so that it is unnecessary to
repeat them here. Some rare cases indicate an artistic construction
which is not an essential part of animal functions, and the sense of
form and color occurs in some species. But this only shows that there
exist in the animal kingdom the roots of every art and sentiment
peculiar to man, subsequently perfected by him in an exclusive and
reflex manner, and this confirms the general truths of heredity and
evolution.
When primitive man draws or carves objects, he does not merely obey the
innate impulse to give an external form to the image already in his
mind, but while satisfying the aesthetic sentiment which actuates him, he
is conscious of some mysterious power and superstitious influence. This
sentiment is not only apparent in our own children, but among nearly all
savages, of which many instances might be given; some of them are even
afraid to look at a portrait, and shrink from it as from a living
person.
As time went on, a belief in spirits was developed from causes already
mentioned, the rude theory of incarnation followed as its corollary, and
this sentiment was naturally confirmed by incised and sculptured images;
for since they supposed a spirit to be present in every object whatever,
this was much more the case with incised or sculptured figures of men
and animals. In these figures the amulet, talisman, or _gris-gris_ of
savages especially consisted; portraits, however rude, of animals,
monsters, of the human form as a whole or in parts, as in the universal
phallic superstitions. The belief in spirits, resulting from the
personification of shadows, or of the image of a man's own soul which
was supposed to return from the tomb, had a mythical influence on the
mode and ceremonies of sepulture, on the position of corpses, on the
orientation of tombs, and their form. In fact, the mythical ideas of
spirits, and the fanciful place they took in the primitive idea of the
world, produced the custom of burying corpses in an upright, stooping,
or sitting position, and their situation with reference to the four
cardinal points. In America the cross which was placed in very early
times above the tombs is rightly supposed by Brinton to have been a
symbol of the four zones of the earth, relatively to the tomb itself and
to the human remains enclosed in it. One Australian tribe buries its
dead with their faces to the east; the Fijians are buried with the head
and feet to the west, and many of the North American Indians follow the
same custom. Others in South America double up the corpse, turning the
face to the east. The Peruvians place their mummies in a sitting
position, looking to the west; the natives of Jesso also turn the head
to the west. The modern Siamese never sleep with their faces turned to
the west, because this is the attitude in which they place their dead
before burning them on the funeral pile. Finally, the Greeks and all
other peoples, both civilized and barbarous, including ourselves, had
and continue to have special customs in burying their dead. All the
primitive artistic representations of the human form, the
orientation of tombs and temples and their peculiar form, were prompted
by these spiritualist and superstitious ideas; they expressed a
symbolism derived from mythical ideas of the constitution of the world,
of its organism, elements, and cosmic legends. This assertion might be
verified by all funereal, religious, and civil monuments, among all
peoples of the earth, in their most rudimentary form down to those of
our times, and above all in India, China, Central Asia, in Africa, and
particularly in Egypt, in America, in Europe, beginning with the Greeks
and passing through the Latins down to the Christianity of our day; nor
need we exclude the Oceanic races, and those of the two frigid zones. |
