These pantomime dances lie, indeed, at the very heart and root of our whole subject, and it is of the first importance that before going further in our analysis of art and ritual, we should have some familiarity with their general character and gist, the more so as they are a class of ceremonies now practically extinct.  We shall find in these dances the meeting-point between art and ritual, or rather we shall find in them the rude, inchoate material out of which both ritual and art, at least in one of its forms, developed.  Moreover, we shall find in pantomimic dancing a ritual bridge, as it were, between actual life and those representations of life which we call art.

In our next chapter, therefore, we shall study the ritual dance in general, and try to understand its psychological origin; in the following chapter (III) we shall take a particular dance of special importance, the Spring Dance as practised among various primitive peoples.  We shall then be prepared to approach the study of the Spring Dance among the Greeks, which developed into their drama, and thereby to, we hope, throw light on the relation between ritual and art.

FOOTNOTES: 

[1] Adonis, Attis, Osiris,^2 p. 324.

[2] Vit.  Nik., 13.

[3] Rep. X, 596-9.

[4] C.H.  Lumholtz, Symbolism of the Huichol Indians, in Mem. of the Am.  Mus. of Nat.  Hist., Vol.  III, “Anthropology.” (1900.)

CHAPTER II

PRIMITIVE RITUAL:  PANTOMIMIC DANCES

In books and hymns of bygone days, which dealt with the religion of “the heathen in his blindness,” he was pictured as a being of strange perversity, apt to bow down to “gods of wood and stone.”  The question why he acted thus foolishly was never raised.  It was just his “blindness”; the light of the gospel had not yet reached him.  Now-a-days the savage has become material not only for conversion and hymn-writing but for scientific observation.  We want to understand his psychology, i.e. how he behaves, not merely for his sake, that we may abruptly and despotically convert or reform him, but for our own sakes; partly, of course, for sheer love of knowing, but also,—­since we realize that our own behaviour is based on instincts kindred to his,—­in order that, by understanding his behaviour, we may understand, and it may be better, our own.

Anthropologists who study the primitive peoples of to-day find that the worship of false gods, bowing “down to wood and stone,” bulks larger in the mind of the hymn-writer than in the mind of the savage.  We look for temples to heathen idols; we find dancing-places and ritual dances.  The savage is a man of action.  Instead of asking a god to do what he wants done, he does it or tries to do it himself; instead of prayers he utters spells.  In a word, he practises magic, and above all he is strenuously and frequently engaged in dancing magical dances.  When a savage wants sun or wind or rain, he does not go to church and prostrate himself before a false god; he summons his tribe and dances a sun dance or a wind dance or a rain dance.  When he would hunt and catch a bear, he does not pray to his god for strength to outwit and outmatch the bear, he rehearses his hunt in a bear dance.