Another fundamental difference between the mental life of primitive man and that of civilized man lies in the fact that we have succeeded in developing, by the application of conscious reasoning, better systems from these crude, unconscious classifications of the sum total of our knowledge, while primitive man has not done so. The first impression gained from a study of the beliefs of primitive man is, that while the perceptions of his senses are excellent, his power of logical interpretation of perceptions seems to be deficient. I think it can be shown that the reason for this fact is not founded on any fundamental peculiarity of the mind of primitive man, but lies, rather, in the character of the traditional ideas by means of which each new perception is interpreted; in other words, in the character of the traditional ideas with which each new perception associates itself. In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folk-lore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. On the whole, I do not think that we should try to argue still further, and really try to give a full explanation of the causes of the explosion.
The difference in the mode of thought of primitive man and that of civilized man seems to consist largely in the difference of character of the traditional material with which the new perception associates itself. The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that neither among civilized men nor among primitive men the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material. Herein lies the immense importance of folk-lore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be vain to try to understand the history of mediæval science without a knowledge of mediæval theology; and so it is vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. “Mythology,” “theology,” and “philosophy” are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man,—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings; who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man; to whom the mountains, trees, and stones are endowed with life,—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we should not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena would take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations, and that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly be possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and for most of us purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. In this we commit the same error that is committed, and has been committed, by all the less civilized peoples. They are more easily satisfied than we are at the present time; but they also assume as true the traditional element which enters into their explanations, and therefore accept as absolute truth the conclusions based on it. It is evident that the fewer the number of traditional elements that enter into our reasoning, and the clearer we endeavor to be in regard to the hypothetical part of our reasoning, the more logical will be our conclusions. There is an undoubted tendency in the advance of civilization to eliminate traditional elements, and to gain a clearer and clearer insight into the hypothetical basis of our reasoning. It is therefore not surprising, that, with the advance of civilization, reasoning becomes more and more logical, not because each individual carries out his thought in a more logical manner, but because the traditional material which is handed down to each individual has been thought out and worked out more thoroughly and more carefully. While in primitive civilization the traditional material is doubted and examined by only a very few individuals, the number of thinkers who try to free themselves from the fetters of tradition increases as civilization advances.
An example illustrating this progress and at the same time the slowness of this progress is found in the relations between individuals belonging to different tribes. There are a number of primitive hordes to whom every stranger not a member of the horde is an enemy, and where it is right to damage the enemy to the best of one’s power and ability, and if possible to kill him. This custom is founded largely on the idea of the solidarity of the horde, and of the feeling that it is the duty of every member of the horde to destroy all possible enemies. Therefore every person not a member of the horde must be considered as belonging to a class entirely distinct from the members of the horde, and is treated accordingly. We can trace the gradual broadening of the feeling of fellowship during the advance of civilization. The feeling of fellowship in the horde expands to the feeling of unity of the tribe, to a recognition of bonds established by a neighborhood of habitat, and further on to the feeling of fellowship among members of nations. This seems to be the limit of the ethical concept of fellowship of man which we have reached at the present time. When we analyze the strong feeling of nationality which is so potent at the present time, we recognize that it consists largely in the idea of the pre-eminence of that community whose member we happen to be,—in the pre-eminent value of its language, of its customs, and of its traditions, and in the belief that it is right to preserve its peculiarities and to impose them upon the rest of the world. The feeling of nationality as here expressed, and the feeling of solidarity of the horde, are of the same order, although modified by the gradual expansion of the idea of fellowship; but the ethical point of view which makes it justifiable at the present time to increase the well-being of one nation at the cost of another, the tendency to value one’s own civilization as higher than that of the whole rest of mankind, are the same as those which prompt the actions of primitive man, who considers every stranger as an enemy, and who is not satisfied until the enemy is killed. It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason, which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence. The general theory of valuation of human activities, as developed by anthropological research, teaches us a higher tolerance than the one which we now profess.
After we have thus seen that a large number of traditional elements enter into the reasoning of primitive man and of civilized man as well, we are better prepared to understand some of the more special typical differences in the thought of primitive man and of civilized man.
A trait of primitive life that early attracted the attention of investigators is the occurrence of close associations between mental activities that appear to us as entirely disparate. In primitive life, religion and science; music, poetry, and dance; myth and history; fashion and ethics,—appear inextricably interwoven. We may express this general observation also by saying that primitive man views each action not only as adapted to its main object, each thought related to its main end, as we should perceive them, but that he associates them with other ideas, often of a religious or at least of a symbolic nature. Thus he gives them a higher significance than they seem to us to deserve. Every taboo is an example of such associations of apparently trifling actions with ideas that are so sacred that a deviation from the customary mode of performance creates the strongest emotions of abhorrence. The interpretation of ornaments as charms, the symbolism of decorative art, are other examples of association of ideas that, on the whole, are foreign to our mode of thought.
In order to make clear the point of view from which these phenomena seem to fall into an orderly array, we will investigate whether all vestiges of similar forms of thought have disappeared from our civilization. In our intense life, which is devoted to activities requiring the full application of our reasoning-powers and a repression of the emotional life, we have become accustomed to a cold, matter-of-fact view of our actions, of the incentives that lead to them, and of their consequences. It is not necessary, however, to go far afield to find a state of mind which is open to other aspects of life. If those among us who move in the midst of the current of our quickly pulsing life do not look beyond their rational motives and aims, others who stand by in quiet contemplation recognize in it the reflection of an ideal world that they have built up in their own consciousness. To the artist the outer world is a symbol of the beauty that he feels; to the fervent religious mind it is a symbol of the transcendental truth which gives form to his thought. Instrumental music that one enjoys as a work of purely musical art calls forth in the mind of another a group of definite concepts that are connected with the musical themes and their treatment only by the similarity of the emotional states they evoke. In fact, the different manner in which individuals re-act to the same stimulus, and the variety of associations elicited by the same sense-impression in different individuals, are so self-evident that they hardly call for special remarks.
Most important for the purpose of our investigation is the fact that there are certain stimuli to which all of us who live in the same society re-act in the same way without being able to express the reasons for our actions. A good example of what I refer to are breaches of social etiquette. A mode of behavior that does not conform to the customary manners, but differs from them in a striking way, creates, on the whole, unpleasant emotions; and it requires a determined effort on our part to make it clear to ourselves that such behavior does not conflict with moral standards. Among those who are not trained in courageous and rigid thought, the confusion between traditional etiquette—so-called good manners—and moral conduct is habitual. In certain lines of conduct the association between traditional etiquette and ethical feeling is so close, that even a vigorous thinker can hardly emancipate himself from it. This is true, for instance, of acts that may be considered breaches of modesty. The most cursory review of the history of costume shows that what was considered modest at one time has been immodest at other times. The custom of habitually covering parts of the body has at all times led to the strong feeling that exposure of such parts is immodest. This feeling of propriety is so erratic, that a costume that is appropriate on one occasion may be considered opprobrious on other occasions; as, for instance, a low-cut evening dress in a street-car during business hours. What kind of exposure is felt as immodest depends always upon fashion. It is quite evident that fashion is not dictated by modesty, but that the historical development of costume is determined by a variety of causes. Nevertheless fashions are typically associated with the feeling of modesty, so that an unwonted exposure excites the unpleasant feelings of impropriety. There is no conscious reasoning why the one form is proper, the other improper; but the feeling is aroused directly by the contrast with the customary. Every one will feel instinctively the strong resistance that he would have to overcome, even in a different society, if he were required to perform an action that we are accustomed to consider as immodest, and the feelings that would be excited in his mind if he were thrown into a society in which the standards of modesty differed from our own.
Even setting aside the strong emotions of modesty, we find a variety of reasons which make certain styles of dress appear improper. To appear in the fashion of our forefathers of two centuries ago would be entirely out of the question, and would expose one to ridicule. To see a man wear a hat in company indoors nettles us: it is considered rude. To wear a hat in church or at a funeral would cause more vigorous resentment, on account of the greater emotional value of the feelings concerned. A certain tilt of the hat, although it may be very comfortable to the wearer, would stamp him at once as an uneducated brute. Other novelties in costume may hurt our æsthetic feelings, no matter how bad the taste of the prevailing fashions may be.