The Evolution of Culture, and Other Essays

by Augustus Henry Lane-Fox Pitt-Rivers

This is the distinctive difference between my collection and most others which I have seen, in which the primary arrangement has been geographical, that is to say, all the arts of the same tribe or nation have been placed together in one class, and within this there may perhaps have been in some cases a sub-class for special arts or special forms. Both systems have their advantages and disadvantages. By a geographical or racial arrangement the general culture of each distinct race is made the prominent feature of the collection, and it is therefore more strictly ethnological, whereas in the arrangement which I have adopted, the development of specific ideas and their transmission from one people to another, or from one locality to another, is made more apparent, and it is therefore of greater sociological value. Different points of interest are brought to light by each, and, in my judgement, a great National Anthropological Collection, should we ever possess such a desideratum, can never be considered complete until it embraces two series, arranged upon these two distinct systems.

Following the orthodox scientific principle of reasoning from the known to the unknown, I have commenced my descriptive catalogue with the specimens of the arts of existing savages, and have employed them, as far as possible, to illustrate the relics of primaeval men, none of which, except those constructed of the more imperishable materials, such as flint and stone, have survived to our time. All the implements of primaeval man that were of decomposable materials have disappeared, and can be replaced only in imagination by studying those of his nearest congener, the modern savage.

This being the system adopted, one of the first points to which I desire to invite your attention is the question, to what extent the modern savage truly represents primaeval man, or rather to what extent may we take the arts of modern savages to represent those of the first progenitors of our species?

In order to do this it is necessary to view the question in its psychological aspects. This I shall touch upon as lightly as possible, avoiding all technicalities, which in a cursory view of the matter, might tend to confuse, and confining myself to those parts of the subject which appear to have a direct bearing on evolution.

It is a matter of common observation that animals act by instinct, that is to say, that in the construction of their habitations and other arrangements for providing for their wants, they act intuitively, and apparently without the intervention of reason; and that the things which they construct, though often of a more or less complex character, are usually of a fixed type; that they are repeated by nearly all animals of the same kind with but little variety; and that within the limited space of time during which we are able to observe them, they do not appear to be susceptible of progress, although evidence has been adduced to show that animals, even in a wild state, do change their habits to a certain extent with the change of external conditions.

On the other hand, we recognize in many animals the operation of a reasoning mind. In their efforts to escape, or when conditions of a novel character are presented to them, they act in a manner that shows clear evidence of intelligence, although they show this to a very limited extent as compared with man. We also know that habits acquired by animals during domestication, or taught them by the exercise of their reasoning faculties, become instinctive in them, and are inherited in their offspring, as in the familiar case of the pointer dog. We also know that under domestication animals lose the instincts acquired in a wild state.

In the human mind we recognize the presence of all these phenomena, only in a different degree. We are conscious of an intellectual mind capable of reasoning upon unfamiliar occurrences, and of an automaton mind capable of acting intuitively in certain matters without effort of the will or consciousness. And we know that habits acquired by the exercise of conscious reason, by constant habit, become automatic, and then they no longer require the exercise of conscious reason to direct the actions, as they did at first; as, for example, the habit of walking upright, which the child learns with pain and labour, but in time performs without conscious effort of the mind. Or the habit of reading and writing, the learning of which requires a strong and continuous effort of the intellect, but which in time becomes so completely automatic that it becomes possible to read a whole page aloud whilst the intellectual mind is conscious of being engaged in other things.

We perceive clearly that this automatic action of the brain is dependent on frequent repetition by the intellectual brain, as in the familiar case of learning by heart; and also that the transfer of the action from the intellectual to the automaton brain—if indeed there are separate portions of the brain allotted to these separate functions, as appears probable—is a gradual and not a sudden process, and that there are intermediate stages in which an action may be performed partly by direction of the intellect and partly automatically. This is shown in the case of a person who, wishing to make an effective speech at a public meeting, reasons out his address carefully, and then learns it partially by heart. When the time comes to address the assembly, the speech having been partly referred to the automaton brain, the intellect is relieved from action, and, being unoccupied, is apt to wander and engage itself in other matters that are passing at the time; but the automaton brain, being insufficiently prepared to bear the whole responsibility, is unable to continue, and the intellectual brain, having already started on a journey elsewhere, is unable to return quick enough to take up the thread of the discourse. The result is that the would-be orator breaks down pitiably in the middle of his speech, owing to his having learnt his lesson too well for one function of his mind, and not well enough for the other. The same is seen in many business transactions, which, from frequent repetition, become what is called a second nature, and in the conduct of which the conscious intellect is partly freed from the control of the actions.

We see also that both automatic and intellectual activity are inherited in different degrees by different persons. Thus it is a matter of common observation that there are some persons who are able to acquire with great facility the power of conversing upon simple subjects in many different languages, whilst upon more complex subjects, requiring intellectual effort, they never acquire the power of conversing in any language. Thus, also, it is frequently seen that some children show a remarkable aptitude for learning in their youth. It is said to be a pleasure to educate them; everything speedily becomes automatic in them; great hopes are entertained of their future prospects; but they frequently become a grievous disappointment to their parents, who have built castles in the air upon the strength of their apparent precocity, whereas an acute observer might have seen that they had never from the first showed signs of great intellectual capacity. On the other hand, we hear of dunces who are the despair of their tutors, who can with difficulty be taught to read and write and spell, but in after years become philosophers and scientists, all which might have been foretold from the first if the system of education had been such as to call forth the intellectual powers.

It is not merely that some inherit automatic capacity whilst in others the capacity is intellectual. There is, without doubt, in both cases an hereditary capacity for special things. Thus, whilst some acquire a knowledge of music with facility, others can never be made to appreciate a note of music, and so with respect to other arts.