We unconsciously carry on the same traditions, preserving
some of their forms, although the meaning of the symbol
is lost. Tombs in the open air which enclosed
a spirit, and round which the shades roamed, were the
first sacred buildings, from which by an easy and
intelligible evolution of ideas, temples, with a similar
orientation, and other works of architecture, both
religious and civil, were derived. If we follow,
step by step, the development of the tomb into the
temple, the palace, and the triumphal arch, we shall
see how the outward form and the human and cosmic myth
were reciprocally enlarged. Ethnography, archaeology,
and the history of all peoples indicate their gradual
evolution, so that it is only necessary to allude
to it; proofs abound for any intelligent reader.
Even in modern architecture the arrangement of parts,
the general form, the ornaments and symbols relating
to mythical ideas, still persist, although we are
no longer conscious of their meaning; just as human
speech now makes use of a simple phonetic sign as if
it were an algebraic notation, in which the philologist
can trace the primitive and concrete image whence
it proceeded. The arts also, like other human
products, follow the general evolution of myth in their
historic course; the primitive fetish is afterwards
perfected by more explicit spiritual beliefs, and
is combined with cosmic myths; these are slowly transformed
into symbolic representations, which dissolve in their
turn, and give place to the expression of the truth
and to forms which more fully satisfy the natural
sense of beauty and its adaptation to special ends.
The arts of singing and of instrumental music have
the same origin and evolution as the others.
Vico, Strabo, and others have asserted that primitive
men spoke in song, and there is great truth in the
remark. Since gesture and pantomime help out
the meaning of imperfect speech, which was at first
poor in the number of words and their relative forms,
and this is still the case among many peoples, so song,
vocal modulation, and the rhythmic expression of speech
seem to stimulate emotion. In truth, the mental
and physiological effort which tends by vocal enunciation
to present the image or emotion in an external form,
is on the one hand not yet fully disintegrated, and
on the other the greater or less intensity of feeling
involved in primitive languages a corresponding vocal
modulation to supplement it, just as it required gesture
and pantomime. Thus speech, gesture, and song,
in the larger sense of the word, had their origin
together. This is also true of many of the languages
of modern savages, and of those of more civilized
peoples, such as the Chinese, which have not quite
attained inflection; in this case the frequent repetition
of the same monosyllable conveys a different meaning,
not only from its relative position, but from the
modulation and tone in which it is uttered. The
same thing may be observed in children who are just
beginning to talk.