In summary of what we have thus far learned with regard to the art of drawing among primitive men, it may be said that this art is throughout one of magic and adornment. These are the two motives from which it springs, and which, apparently, co-operate from the outset. The mere drawing of lines in regular and symmetrical repetition is due to that regularity of movement which also finds expression in the dance and, even prior to this, in ordinary walking and running. But the artist himself then attributes a hidden meaning to that which he has created. Astonishment at his creation fuses with his pleasure in it, and his wonder at the picture that he has produced makes of it, when animated and retransformed by the imagination, a magical object. The pictures carried about on the person, or wrought on an object of daily use, assist in guarding against diseases and other injuries, or they assure the success of the weapon and the implement.
In view of these characteristics of a purely magical and decorative art, it may perhaps at first glance cause surprise that there should be a people which, although primitive in other essential respects, has far transcended this stage in artistic attainment, and has, apparently, followed an entirely different direction in its pathway to art. Such are the Bushmen. The primitive tribes mentioned above show no traces of an art of drawing; beyond suggestions of a single object, it is absolutely impossible to find representations of objects and their groupings such as are common in the pictures of the Bushmen, which portray particularly animals and, to a less extent, men. This is all the more significant in view of the fact that, while the Bushmen also decorate their weapons and utensils with magical and ornamental designs, these are of far less importance than in the case of the primitive tribes referred to above. The painting of the Bushmen, however, is obviously neither magical nor decorative in character. Originally these pictures seem to have been drawn in caves; at any rate, it is here that many of them have been found. We have already indicated the importance of this primitive dwelling for the beginnings of a memorial art. When external impressions are absent, as in the cave, the imagination is all the more impelled to preserve memories in self-created pictures. The simpler of these resemble, in their characteristics, the drawings and paintings of present-day children. But we can plainly distinguish the more primitive work from that which is more advanced; the latter frequently reproduces its objects with accuracy, particularly animals, such, for example, as the elk and also the giraffe, which is a favourite object, probably because of its long neck. Occasionally, indeed, a quadruped is still represented in profile with only two legs, but most of the pictures are certainly far beyond this childish mode of drawing. In general, mineral pigments were used from the very outset, particularly red iron ore, blue vitriol, etc. We also find mixtures of pigments, so that almost all colours occur. Now it might, of course, be supposed that such a picture of an animal has the same significance as attaches to the drawing occasionally executed on the bow of a primitive man for the purpose of magically insuring the weapon of its mark. But the very places where these paintings occur, far removed as they are from chase and battle, militate against such a supposition. An even greater objection is the fact that the more perfect pictures represent scenes from life. One of them, for example, portrays the meeting of Bushmen with white men, as is evident partly from the colour and partly from the difference in the size of the figures. Another well-known picture represents the way in which the Bushmen steal cattle from a Bantu tribe. The Bantus are represented by large figures, the Bushmen by small ones; in a lively scene, the latter drive the animals away, while the far-striding Bantus remain far in the rear. The picture reveals the joy of the primitive artist over the successful escapade. This is not magical art, but plainly exemplifies the first products of a memorial art. The one who painted these pictures desired first of all to bring before his memory that which he had experienced, and he doubtless also wished to preserve these scenes to the memory of his kinsmen. This is memorial art in a twofold sense. Memory renews the experiences of the past, and it is for memory that the past is to be retained. But this art also must still be classed as primitive, for it has not as yet attained to the level of imitative art. It is not an art that reproduces an object by a direct comparison of picture with copy. This is the sense in which the present-day portrait or landscape painter practises imitation. Even where the primitive era transcended a merely magical or decorative art, it did not advance beyond memorial art. The Bushman did not have the objects themselves before him, but created his pictures in accordance with his memory of them. Moreover, suited as the cave is to the development of a memorial art, it of itself makes imitative art impossible. But how can we account for the fact that the primitive tribe of Bushmen attained to a level of art whose exclusion of magical motives ranks it as relatively advanced, and which must be estimated all the more highly because it is not shared by the neighbouring African tribes? The Hottentots, for example, no less than the Bechuanas and the Bantus, are inferior in artistic accomplishments to the Bushmen, although the culture of the latter is in other respects far below the level of that of the former. May we say of this memorial art what seems probable as regards the magical and decorative art of the inland tribes of Malacca and of Ceylon, namely, that it arose independently from the same original motives as the dance? The answer to this question depends primarily upon the antiquity of these art productions. Do they date back to an immemorial past, as we may suppose to be the case with the decorations of the Veddahs and the Malaccan tribes? There are two considerations, principally, that prove the contrary, namely, that they are relatively recent creations. In the first place, the paintings present the pictures of animals, in particular of the horse and the sheep, with which the Bushman has been acquainted at farthest since the latter part of the eighteenth century. True, these animals were brought into Cape Colony as early as the seventeenth century; it was clearly not until later, however, that the Bushmen became familiar with them. A second consideration is the remarkable circumstance that these primitive painters employ essentially the same tools as the Europeans. This art has now, indeed, almost disappeared, the race having been crowded back and depleted. But the remains show that the painters possessed a stone plate on which they mixed their paints and also a stone pounder with which the mixing was done—that is, a palette and a pestle. Indeed, for applying the colours they occasionally utilized a paint-brush made of fine splinters of bone, though some, no doubt, were content to do this with the fingers.
These are all signs which certainly suggest a not very distant past. Moreover, art products cannot resemble each other in so many respects without having some connection in origin. Added to this is the fact that the very character of such pictures as are still in existence scarcely allows us to regard them as more than sixty to seventy years old. From all of this we must conclude that this art is not primitive at all, but was imported, resembling in this many other things that gain entrance into the life of a primitive tribe. If the essential elements of the Biblical account of the Creation reached the Andamanese, who in other respects are primitive, why may we not also suppose that a wandering European artist at one time came to the Bushmen, even before any other elements of European culture had become accessible to them? Nevertheless, the fact that this painting exists indicates the presence of a remarkable talent. This brings us to our last problem in the psychology of primitive man, to the question concerning his mental equipment in general.
[9. THE INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL CHARACTERISTICS OF PRIMITIVE MAN.]
For a general estimate of the mental characteristics of a race or a tribe, the observation of a single individual or of several individuals is not adequate. Judgment can be based only on the totality of the various mental phases of culture—language, custom, myth, and art. But, if we would also obtain a conception of the mental capacities of a people or a tribe, we must take into further consideration the mental endowment of the individual. For, in the case of mental capacity, we must consider not merely that which has actually been achieved but also everything within the possibility of attainment. Here, again, the standpoint differs according as we are concerned (to limit ourselves to the two most important and typical aspects) with an intellectual or a moral estimate. These two aspects, the intellectual, taken in its widest sense, and the moral, are not only of supreme importance, but, as experience shows, they in no wise run parallel courses. For an understanding of mental development in general, therefore, and of the relation of these its aspects, the early conditions of human culture are particularly significant.
If, now, we consider the general cultural conditions of primitive man, and recall the very meagre character of his external cultural possessions as well as his lack of any impulse to perfect these, we may readily be led to suppose that his intellectual capacities also have remained on a very low plane of development. How, some have asked, could the Bushman have dispensed for decades with firearms—just as accessible to him as to the surrounding tribes—unless he possessed a low degree of intelligence? Even more true is this of the Negritos of the Philippines or the Veddahs of Ceylon. How, unless their mental capacities were essentially more limited than those of their neighbours, could they have lived in the midst of highly cultivated tribes and have remained for decades on an unchanged mental level? But we need to bear in mind two considerations that are here decisive. The first of these is the limited nature of the wants of primitive man, a condition fostered, no doubt, by his relatively small intercourse with neighbouring peoples. Added to this is the fact that up to very recent times—for here also many changes have arisen—the primitive man of the tropics has found plenty of game and plant food in his forests, as well as an abundance of material for the clothing and adornment to which he is accustomed. Hence he lacks the incentive to strive for anything beyond these simple means of satisfying his wants. It is agreed, particularly by the investigators who have studied those tribes of Malacca and Ceylon that have remained primitive, that the most outstanding characteristic of primitive man is contentment. He seeks for nothing further, since he either finds all that he desires in his environment, or, by methods handed down from the ancient past, knows how he may produce it out of the material available to him. For this reason the Semangs and Senoi, no less than the Veddahs, despise as renegades those mixed tribes that have arisen through union, in the one case, with the Malays, and, in the other, with the Singhalese and Tamils. All the more firmly, therefore, do they hold to that which was transmitted to them by their fathers. Together with this limited character of their wants, we find a fixity of conditions, due to their long isolation. The longer a set of customs and habits has prevailed among a people, the more difficult it is to overturn. Prior to any change we must, in such cases, first have mighty upheavals, battles, and migrations. To what extent all deeper-going changes of culture are due to racial fusions, migrations, and battles we shall presently see. The tribes that have remained relatively primitive to this day have led a peaceful existence since immemorial times. Of course, the individual occasionally slays the man who disturbs his marriage relations or trespasses upon his hunting-grounds. Otherwise, however, so long as he is not obliged to protect himself against peoples that crowd in upon him, primitive man is familiar with the weapon only as an implement of the chase. The old picture of a war of all with all, as Thomas Hobbes once sketched the natural state of man, is the very reverse of what obtained. The natural condition is one of peace, unless this is disturbed by external circumstances, one of the most important of which is contact with a higher culture. The man of nature, however, suffers less from an advanced culture than he does from the barbarism of semi-culture. But whenever a struggle arises for the possession of the soil and of the means of subsistence which it furnishes, semi-culture may come to include more peoples than are usually counted as belonging to it. The war of extermination against the red race was carried on by the pious New England Puritans with somewhat different, though with scarcely better, weapons than the Hottentots and Herero to-day turn against the Bushmen, or the Monbuttus against the Negritos of Central Africa.
It is characteristic of primitive culture that it has failed to advance since immemorial times, and this accounts for the uniformity prevalent in widely separated regions of the earth. This, however, does not at all imply that, within the narrow sphere that constitutes his world, the intelligence of primitive man is inferior to that of cultural man. If we call to mind the means which the former employs to seek out, to overtake, and to entrap his game, we have testimony both of reflection and, equally so, of powers of observation. In order to capture the larger game, for example, the Bushman digs large holes in the ground, in the middle of which he constructs partitions which he covers with brush. An animal that falls into such a hole cannot possibly work its way out, since two of its legs will be on one side of the partitional division and two on the other. Smaller animals are captured by traps and snares similar to those familiar to us. The Negritos of the Philippines, furthermore, employ a very clever method for securing wild honey from trees without exposing themselves to injury from the bees. They kindle a fire at the foot of the tree, causing a dense smoke. Enveloped by this, an individual climbs the tree and removes the object of his desire, the smoke rendering the robber invisible to the scattering swarm. It is thus that the Negritos secure honey, their most precious article of food. How great, moreover, is the inventive ability required by the bow and arrow, undoubtedly fashioned even by primitive men! We have seen, of course, that these inventions were not snatched from the blue, but that they were influenced by all sorts of empirical elements and probably also by magical ideas, as in the case of the feathering of the arrow. Nevertheless, the assembling and combining of these elements in the production of a weapon best suited to the conditions of primitive life is a marvellous achievement, scarcely inferior, from an intellectual point of view, to the invention of modern firearms. Supplementing this, we have the testimony of observers concerning the general ability of these races. A missionary teacher in Malacca, whose school included Chinese, Senoi, and Malays, gave first rank to the Chinese as regards capacity, and second place to the Senoi, while the Malays were graded last, though they, as we know, are held to be a relatively talented race. Now, this grading, of course, may have been more or less accidental, yet it allows us to conclude that the intellectual endowment of primitive man is in itself approximately equal to that of civilized man. Primitive man merely exercises his ability in a more restricted field; his horizon is essentially narrower because of his contentment under these limitations. This, of course, does not deny that there may have been a time, and, indeed, doubtless was one, when man occupied a lower intellectual plane and approximated more nearly to the animal state which preceded that of human beings. This earliest and lowest level of human development, however, is not accessible to us.
But what, now, may be said concerning the moral characteristics of primitive man? It is clear that we must here distinguish sharply between those tribes that have hitherto remained essentially unaffected by external influences and those that have for some time past eked out a meagre existence in their struggle with surrounding peoples of a higher culture. The primitive man who still lives uninfluenced by surrounding peoples—typical examples are, in general, the natural Veddahs of Ceylon and the inland tribes of the Malay Peninsula—presents an entirely different picture from that of the man who seeks in the face of difficulties to protect himself against his environment. In the case of the tribes of Ceylon and Malacca, the somewhat civilized mixed peoples constitute a sort of protective zone, in the former case against the Singhalese and Tamils, in the latter, against the Malays. These mixed peoples are despised, and therefore they themselves hesitate to enter into intercourse with the primitive tribes. Thus they offer an outer buttress against inpressing culture. The result is that these primitive peoples continue to live their old life essentially undisturbed. Now, the testimony of unprejudiced observers is unanimous in maintaining that primitive man is frank and honest, that lying is unknown to him, and that theft does not exist. He may, of course, be strongly moved by emotion, so that the man who disturbs the Veddah's marriage relation may be sure of a poisoned arrow, as may also the strange huntsman who encroaches unbidden upon his hunting-grounds. This reprisal is not based upon legal enactments—of such there are none; it is custom that allows this summary procedure. Many investigators have believed that these various characteristics exhibited by unmixed primitive culture indicate a high state of morality. In this they agree with Wilhelm Schmidt, for whom primitive men are the infant peoples of the world, in that they possess the innocence of childhood. It is not only man's moral outlook, however, but also his moral character, as this very illustration shows, that depends upon the environment in which he lives. Since the primitive man who lives undisturbed by external conditions has no occasion to conceal anything, his honesty and frankness ought scarcely to be counted to his particular credit; so far as theft is concerned, how can there be a thief where there is no property? It may, of course, happen that an individual takes the weapon of his companion for a short time and uses it. This action, however, is all the more permissible since each man makes his own bow and arrow. The same is true of clothing and articles of adornment. Thus, the rather negative morality of primitive man also has its origin in his limited wants, in the lack of any incentives to such action as we would call immoral. Such a positive situation, however, is, no doubt, afforded by the strict monogamy, which probably originated in the prehuman natural state and was thenceforth maintained.
Quite different is the moral picture of primitive man wherever he is at strife with surrounding peoples. Here, as was noted particularly by Emin Pasha and Stuhlmann in the case of the Negritos of the Upper Nile, the outstanding characteristics are, in the first place, fear, and then deception and malice. But can we wonder at this when we learn that the flesh of the Pygmies is especially prized by the anthropophagic Monbuttus of that region, and that the pursuit of this human game on the part of the latter is absolutely unrestrained, except by the fear of the arrows which the Pygmies shoot from behind ambush? Here, of course, innocence, frankness, and honesty are not to be expected; under these circumstances, theft also comes to be a justifiable act. Wherever the Negrito finds something to take, he takes it. The same is true of the South African Bushmen, who occupy a similarly precarious position with respect to the Bantus and Hottentots. The Bushmen are the most notorious thieves of South Africa. Of this we have striking evidence in the above-mentioned picture of the Bushman who glorifies and preserves to memory the theft of cattle. The Bushman is crafty and treacherous, and steals whenever there is opportunity. But what else could be expected, when we consider that, by killing off the game with their firearms, the Hottentots and Bantus deprive the Bushman of that which was once his source of food, and that they shoot the Bushman himself if he resists?