On the other hand, this same oval tool of the drift (Plate II), when

used as an axe-blade with the broad end, became the celt of the

neolithic period, chipped only at first and subsequently polished. This

gave rise to the copper celt of the same form having convex surfaces,

which grew into the bronze celt with flat sides. Then the bronze celt

was furnished with a stop to prevent its being pressed too far into

the handle by the blow. Others were furnished with projecting flanges

to prevent them from swerving by the blow when hafted on a bent stick.

Others had both stops and flanges. By degrees the flanges were bent

over the stops and over the handle, and then the central portion above

the stops, being no longer required, became thinner, and ultimately

disappeared, the flanges closed on each other, and by this means the

weapon grew into the socket celt. On this socket celt you will see that

there is sometimes a semicircular ornamentation on each side. This

semicircular ornament, as I pointed out in a paper on primitive warfare

read some time ago, is a vestige of the overlapping flange of the

earlier forms out of which it grew, which, like the rings on our brass

cannon, are survivals of parts formerly serving for special uses (pp.

182-3 below).

In the vertical columns I have given, in the order of their

occurrence, the successive periods of prehistoric time, viz. the early

palaeolithic, late palaeolithic, early neolithic, late neolithic,

early bronze, late bronze and iron periods, beneath which I have placed

lines for two distinct phases of modern savage culture, viz. the

Australian and the American Indian. A cross beneath each form denotes

the periods in which they occur, and a vertical bar denotes that they

are of rare or doubtful occurrence; so that the sequence of development

may be seen at a glance, and it is only a glance that I ask you to take

at these diagrams on the present occasion. I have checked them with Mr.

Evans’ work and also with Sir William Wilde’s Catalogue,[10] and I do

not think that any of the statements made in them will be challenged;

but as these forms were not developed for the purpose of filling in the

spaces in rectangular diagrams, such diagrams only imperfectly convey

an idea of the evolution which has taken place, and must be regarded

only as provisional and liable to be improved.

In tracing the evolution of prehistoric implements, we are of course

limited to such as were constructed of imperishable materials. No doubt

our prehistoric ancestors used also implements of wood, but they have

long since disappeared; and if we wish to form an idea of what they

were, we must turn to those of his nearest congener, the modern savage.

In speaking of savages, the question of progression versus degeneration

is probably familiar to most of those present, through the writings of

Sir John Lubbock and Mr. E. B. Tylor. To the several weighty arguments

in favour of progression given by those writers I will add this one

derived from the sequence of ideas.

If the Australians, for example, were the degenerate descendants of

people in a higher phase of culture, then, as all existing ideas are

made up of previous ideas, we must inevitably find amongst their arts

traces of the forms of earlier and higher arts, as is the case amongst

some of the savages of South America who early came in contact with

Peruvian civilization; but the reverse of this is the case: all the

forms of the Australian weapons are derived from those of nature.

In the same way that we saw that the forms of the palaeolithic flint

implements were suggested by accidental fractures in the workshop, so

the several forms of the Australian wooden implements were suggested

by the various forms of the stems and branches out of which they were

made. These savages, having only flint tools to work with, cannot

saw out their weapons to any form they please; they can only trim

the sticks into a serviceable shape. All their weapons are therefore

constructed on the grain of the wood, and their forms and uses have

arisen from a selection of the natural curves of the sticks.

[Illustration: PLATE III.]

I have arranged, on Plate III, drawings of nearly all the weapons used

by the Australians, placing them together according to their affinities

in such a manner as to show hypothetically their derivation from a

single form. As all the forms given on this diagram are drawings of

weapons in use at the present time, and there are many intermediate

forms not given here, I have not arranged them in horizontal lines,

as in the previous diagrams, to show their place in time, but have

arranged them as radiating from a central point. We know nothing of

the antiquities of savage countries as yet, and therefore cannot trace

their evolution in time. The development has therefore been shown by

means of survivals of early forms existing at the present time.

In the centre I have placed the simple cylindrical stick, as being

the simplest form. By a gradual development of one end I have traced

upwards the formation of a sharp ridge and its transition into a

kind of mushroom form. To the right upwards I have traced the same

development of the mushroom head, the projecting ridge of which

is constantly liable to fractures by blows; and as savages always

systematize accidental fractures so as to produce symmetry, scollops

have been cut out of the ridge in different places for this purpose,

which had the effect of concentrating the force of the blow on the

projections. These were further developed; one of the pilei of the

mushroom head was made larger than the others, and this suggested the

form of a bird’s head, so that it was only necessary to add a line for

the mouth and a couple of eyes to complete the resemblance. To the

right we see that the plain stick held in the centre gave the first

idea of a defensive weapon, and was used to parry off the darts of the

assailant; an aperture was then made in the stick for the hand, and

the face of it became broader, developing into a shield, the narrow

ends, however, being still retained for parrying. Below I have shown

that the long stick simply pointed at one end became a lance; a row

of sharp flints were gummed on to one side to produce a cutting edge,

and these were then imitated in wood, and by pointing them obliquely

they were converted into barbs. To the right another kind of barb was

produced by binding on a piece of sharp-pointed wood. Between this

and the shields we see that the first idea of the throwing-stick,

employed to project these lances, was simply constructed like the

barbed point of the lance itself. The gradual expansion of the stick

arose from its being employed like a battledore, to fence off the

enemy’s lances. To the left below I have shown the gradual development

of a peculiar curved weapon, called the ‘malga’, formed from a stem

and the branch projecting from it at different angles. The part where

the continuation of the stem was cut off was trimmed to a kind of

ridge; this ridge developed, and suggested the crest of a bird’s head;

ultimately the eyes were added, in the same manner as in the club

on the opposite side of the diagram. To the left we see the plain

round stick first flattened, then curved. Savages are in the habit

of throwing all their weapons at their adversaries and at animals.

In throwing a flat curved stick it rotates of its own accord, and as

the axis of rotation continues parallel to itself, the thin edge is

presented to the resistance of the air in front; this increases the

range, and its peculiar flight must have forced itself on the attention

of the savage as the result of experience: but he has never had the

slightest knowledge of the laws of its flight. The different curves

of the boomerang are the natural curves of the sticks, and like all

the Australian weapons, they are made on the grain of the wood. Some

are thicker than others; some will fly in the curves peculiar to that

weapon, and others will not: scarcely two are alike.

To the left above, we see the mushroom-headed ‘waddy’, with its

projecting ridge flattened, then curved; one side becomes more

developed than the other, and this being thrown develops into the waddy

boomerang, the ridge of the earlier forms being still represented by a

mark on the flat head of the weapon; an intermediate link connects it

with the true boomerang.

Many other examples might be given to illustrate the continuity which

exists in the development of all savage weapons; but I only ask you

to glance at the sequence shown in this diagram and the preceding ones

in order to convince you of the truth of the statement which I made

at the commencement of this discourse, that although, owing to the

complexity of modern contrivances and the larger steps by which we

mount the ladder of progress in the material arts, their continuity

may be lost sight of, when we come to classify the arts of savages and

prehistoric men, the term ‘growth’ is fully as applicable to them as to

the development of the forms of speech, and that there are no grounds,

upon the score of continuity, history, or the action of free will, to

separate these studies generically as distinct classes of science.

But in dealing with evolution we have to speak not only of growth,

but, as in all other natural sciences, of the principle of decay. By

decay I do not mean the decay of the materials of the arts, but the

decomposition of the mental ideas which produced them.

As complex ideas are built up of simple ones, so there is also a

further process by which they become disintegrated, and the parts go to

form parts of other ideas.

This decay in the arts corresponds to what is called phonetic decay

in language; and in both cases it arises either from incapacity, the

desire to save trouble, or the necessity of abbreviating when ideas

originally evolved for one purpose come to form parts of other ideas to

which they are merely accessory and subordinate, as in the well-known

dialectic changes of speech. Every sound in language had originally a

distinct meaning of its own; gradually these sounds or roots came to

form parts of words in which the original meanings of the sounds were

lost.

I will now endeavour to draw a parallel to this in the arts, by means

of what may be termed realistic degeneration.

I will not say much as to the place of realism in culture. The

archaeological world has lately been somewhat startled by the

discovery of well-executed designs of elephants and other animals in

the French caves in association with the rude stone implements of the

palaeolithic age, and by the more recent discovery of Mariette Bey,

that the earliest Egyptian sculptures of the third dynasty are the most

truthful representations of the human form that are to be found in

that country. I see nothing surprising in this, when we consider the

power that is developed in many children of eight or nine years old of

making drawings of animals and other objects, which, when allowance is

made for the feeble hand of childhood, are often as truthful as those

of the cave-period men, at a time when their minds have acquired but

little power of reasoning or generalizing, or even of taking care of

themselves; all which goes to prove that this power of imitation, which

is a very different thing from ideal art, is one of the most early

developed faculties of the mind of man.

When the power of imitation had once been developed, it would

naturally be made use of as a means of intercommunication; thus the

drawing of a stag would be made to convey information to people at

a distance that there was a herd of deer in the neighbourhood to be

hunted; and as the object of the drawing was no longer to depict

truthfully the peculiarities of the beast, but merely to convey

information, the amount of labour expended upon it would be the

least that could be employed for the required purpose. All written

characters have originated in this way; and no one now requires to be

told how pictographic representations developed into hieroglyphic and

subsequently into phonetic characters.

But realistic degeneration would equally take place in all cases in

which pictorial representations came to be employed for other purposes

than those for which they were originally designed, as in the case of

ornamental designs.

[Illustration: PLATE XXI.

EVOLUTION OF TYPES ON ANCIENT BRITISH COINS.]

So also a coin receives upon its surface the image of a king or a god

as a stamp of authority. When from any cause the object of the original

design is lost, the object of the stamp being no longer to convey a

likeness, but being merely used as a test of genuineness, or perhaps

amongst an unlettered people to denote its value, the tendency to

realistic degeneration would be proportioned to the difficulties of

execution; no further labour would be expended on it than was necessary

for the object to be attained. Here I must again remind you of the

interesting discourse delivered in this Institution on May 14, 1875,

by Mr. Evans, on the evolution of British coins.[11] His examples are

figured in his _Coins of the Ancient Britons_, pp. 24-32. With his

permission I have introduced some of his diagrams (Plate XXI). You will

remember how the coin of Philip of Macedon having been introduced into

Britain, the head on the obverse gradually disappeared, leaving only

the wreath as a band across the coin, which was ultimately converted

into a cross; and how on the reverse, the chariot and two horses

dwindled into a single horse, the chariot disappeared, leaving only

the wheels, the driver became elevated, not elevated after the manner

unfortunately but too common amongst London drivers, but elevated

after the manner of the Spiritualists, except that you see he had the

precaution to take on a pair of wings, differing also both from the

London driver and the Spiritualists, inasmuch as instead of having lost

his head he has lost his body, and nothing but the head remains; the

body of the horse then gradually disappears, leaving only four lines to

denote the legs.

I will now show you an exact parallel to these transformations in a

collection of designs, supposed to be tribal marks, which are drawn

upon the paddle blades of the New Irelanders, a race of Papuan savages

inhabiting an island on the north-east coast of New Guinea.

Having noticed one or two allied varieties of design in specimens that

came into my possession, I determined to collect all that I could

find as they came to this country. In the course of several years I

succeeded in obtaining the series represented upon Plate IV.

[Illustration: PLATE IV.

ORNAMENTATION OF NEW IRELAND PADDLES, SHOWING THE TRANSITION OF FORM.]

The first figure you will see clearly represents the head of a Papuan:

the hair or wig is stuffed out, and the ears elongated by means of

an ear ornament, after the manner of these people; the eyes are

represented by two black dots, and the red line of the nose spreads

over the forehead. This is the most realistic figure of the series. In

the second figure the face is somewhat conventionalized: the line of

the nose passes in a coil round the eyes; there is a lozenge pattern

on the forehead, representing probably a tattoo mark; the body is

represented sitting in full. In the third figure the man is represented

sitting sideways, simply by lopping off an arm and a leg on one side.

In the fourth figure the legs have disappeared. In the fifth figure

the whole body has disappeared. In the sixth figure the nose has

expanded at the base, and the sides of the face are made to conform

to the line of the nose; the elongated ears are there, but the ear

ornament is gone: the nose in this figure is becoming the principal

feature. In the seventh figure nothing but the nose is left: the sides

of the face and mouth are gone; the ears are drawn along the side of

the nose; the head is gone, but the lozenge pattern on the forehead

still remains; the coil round the eyes has also disappeared, and is

replaced by a kind of leaf form, suggested by the upper lobe of the

ear in the previous figures; the eyes are brought down into the nose.

In the eighth figure the ears are drawn at right angles to the nose.

In the ninth figure the nose has expanded at the base; all the rest is

the same as in the last figure. In the tenth figure the lozenge pattern

and the ears have disappeared, and a vestige of them only remains, in

the form of five points; the base of the nose is still further expanded

into a half moon. In the last figure, nothing but a half moon remains.

No one who compared this figure with the first of the series, without

the explanation afforded by the intermediate links, would believe that

it represented the nose of a human face. Unfortunately we do not know

as yet the exact meaning of these designs, but when further information

is obtained about them it will throw considerable light on similar

transformations in prehistoric times.

My next and last illustration is taken from the relics of Troy,

recently brought to light by Dr. Schliemann.[12] In the valuable

work lately published by him he gives illustrations of a number of

earthenware vases and other objects, called by him idols, having on

them the representation of what he conceives to be the face of an owl,

and which he believes to represent Athena, the tutelary goddess of

Troy, called by Homer ‘Glaukopis Athene’, which signifies, according

to him, ‘with the face of an owl.’ Professor Max Müller has given his

opinion that the word ‘glaukopis’ cannot possibly be taken to mean

owl-faced, but can only mean large- or bright-eyed. On this point

I will venture no opinion, but accepting Professor Müller’s high

authority for the usually received interpretation of it being correct,

I shall in no way weaken the evidence in favour of Dr. Schliemann’s

discovery of the true site of Troy if I succeed in proving that,

according to the true principle of realistic degeneration, this figure

does not represent an owl but a human face.

[Illustration: PLATE V.

REALISTIC DEGENERATION.

ILLUSTRATED BY REPRESENTATIONS OF THE HUMAN FACE, FOUND BY DR.

SCHLIEMANN AT TROY.

[_The numerals in brackets give_--(1) _the number of the figure in

Schliemann’s_ Troy and its Remains, (2) _the depth at which the figure

was found, in metres_.]]

The figures on Plate V are all taken from Dr. Schliemann’s

representations, and as the depth of each is given it will be seen

that the different varieties of face occur in all the different strata

excavated by him except the highest, and therefore no argument as to

antiquity can be based upon the depth at which they were found. The two

first figures, it will be seen, are clearly intended to represent a

human face, all the features being preserved. In the two next figures

(3, 4) the mouth has disappeared, but the fact of the principal feature

being still a nose and not a beak, is shown by the breadth of the base

and also by the representation of the breasts. In the two succeeding

figures (5, 6) the nose is narrowed at the base, which gives it the

appearance of a beak, but the fact of its being still a human form

is still shown by the breasts. Had the idea of an owl been developed

through realistic degeneration in these last figures, it would have

retained this form, but in the two succeeding figures (7, 8) it will be

seen that the nose goes on diminishing.

In the remaining figures, some of which are (12-16) of solid stone,

not earthenware, and are believed by Dr. Schliemann to be gods, it is

clearly shown by the rude scratches representing the eyebrows, and

their want of symmetry, that this degeneration of form is the result of

haste.

What then are these solid stone objects? I cannot for a moment doubt,

from their resemblance to the vases, from the marks denoting the

junction of the cover with the vase, and from the representations of

handles, that they are votive urns of some kind, similar to those

Egyptian stone models of urns represented in the two figures above.

Urns of this kind were used by the Egyptians to contain the viscera of

the mummies; but with the cheaper form of burial, in which the viscera

were retained in the body, stone models of urns, of which these figures

are drawings from originals in the British Museum, were deposited in

the graves as vestiges of the earlier and more expensive process; these

objects therefore cannot be idols, but votive urns. The fact of human

remains having been found in some of the human-headed urns, and the

hasty scratches on the stone models, show that they are merely models

appertaining to the conventionalized survival of some earlier or more

elaborate system of urn burial.

We see from these facts that both growth and decay, the two component

elements of evolution, are represented in the study of the material

arts.

My object in this discourse has been not, as I fear it may have

appeared to you from the brief time at my disposal and my imperfect

treatment of the subject, to extol the material arts as being

intrinsically of more interest or importance than other branches

of culture, but to affirm the principle that it is by studying the

psychology of the material arts alone that we can trace human culture

to its germs.

The theory of degradation is supported only by the study of those

branches of culture of which the early history is lost.

The tree is the type of all evolution: all trees are seedlings,

but they differ in their mode of growth. Some, like the beech and

oak, throw their branches upwards, and these are typical of the

development of the material arts; others, like the straight-stemmed

pine, throw off their branches downwards, and these are typical of the

development of some other branches of culture. It is quite true, as

stated by mythologists, that the history of myths is one of continued

degeneration in so far as they can be traced, and that the element

of decay enters far more into their composition than that of growth.

But the whole accessible history of these myths represents drooping

branches from the upward-growing stem of free thought out of which they

sprang. What is the space of time which separates us from the Vedas, as

compared with the whole upward growth of humanity before and since!

There are huge gaps in our knowledge of the history of the human race,

and it has been the pleasure of mankind in all ages to people these

gaps with jugglers and bogies; but surely, if slowly, science will open

up these desert places, and prove to us that, so far as the finite mind

of man can reach, there is nothing but unbroken continuity to be seen

in the present and in the past.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] A Lecture delivered at the Royal Institution of Great Britain on

Friday, May 28, 1875, and published in _Proc. Roy. Inst._, vol. vii.

pp. 496-520, Pl. i-iv.

[8] _Lectures on the Science of Language_ (London, 1861), i, Lecture 1.

[9] John Evans, _The Ancient Stone Implements, Weapons, and Ornaments

of Great Britain_ (London, 1872^1), 1897^2, p. 641.

[10] Sir W. Wilde, _Catalogue of the Antiquities of the Museum of the

Royal Irish Academy_ (Dublin, 1863).

[11] John Evans, ‘On the Coinage of the Ancient Britons and Natural

Selection,’ _Journal of the Royal Institution_, vii. p. 476 ff.; with a

Plate, which is reproduced, by permission, in Plate XXI.

[12] For illustrations, see _Troy and its Remains_, by Dr. Henry

Schliemann (Murray, 1875). The figures may be taken in the following

order: No. 185, No. 74, No. 132, No. 13, No. 173, No. 207, No. 12, No.

11, No. 133, No. 141, No. 165. [Plate V has been compiled from the

references here given.]

PRIMITIVE WARFARE[13]

I

Although it is more in accordance with the purposes for which this

establishment has been organized, that the Lecture-room should be

devoted chiefly to subjects of practical utility connected with the

improvement of our military system and the progress of the mechanical

appliances, the organization, and general efficiency of our Army and

Navy, than to the efforts of abstract science, yet the fact of your

possessing in the three large apartments that are devoted to your

armoury, one of the best assortments of semi-civilized and savage

weapons that are to be found in this country, or, perhaps, in any

part of the world, is sufficient to prove that it is not foreign to

the objects of the Institution that the science of war should be

ethnographically and archaeologically, as well as practically, treated.

The requirements of our advancing age demand that every vein of

knowledge should be opened out, and, in order to make good our title

to so interesting a collection of objects as that comprised in what

may very properly be called our ethnographical military department, it

should be shown that, whether or not the subject may be considered to

fall within the ordinary functions of the Society, our Museum is made

available for the purposes of science.

The Evolution of Culture, and Other Essays · 第 5 / 24 段