onal recrudescence of these powers
among civilized peoples is really a survival of an earlier state; then
indeed we can understand that the evidence, or apparent evidence, for
the existence of an X-region, or spirit-world, may have been
immeasurably more abundant in the infancy of the human race, than it is
now even among contemporary savages.
Put it how we will, it cannot be denied that belief in divination, in
diabolic possession, and in magic, has largely contributed to belief in
spirits; and that to ignore this contribution by throwing the whole
burden on ordinary dreams is unscientific. During sleep Mr. Tylor
himself is as much a prey to delusion as the most primitive savage; but
the criteria by which on waking we condemn _most_ of our dreams as
illusions, seem really as accessible and obvious to the child or savage
as to the philosopher; though the former through carelessness or poverty
of language will perhaps say: "I saw," instead of: "I dreamt I saw."
Children will speak as it were historically of even their day-dreams
and imaginings, not from any untruthfulness or wish to deceive, but from
that romancing tendency rightly reprehended in their elders, who should
be alive to the conventional value of language. But the first and most
natural use of speech is simply to express and embody the thought that
is in us, not to assert, or affirm, or to instruct others. The child's
romancing is not intended as assertion, although so taken by prosaic
adults. It is from the same instinct which lies at the back of his
eternal monologue, of the "Let's pretend" by which he is for the moment
transformed into a soldier, or a steam-engine, or a horse. Eye-reading
without articulation is impossible for the beginner, and thought that is
not talked and acted is impossible for the child. Yet deeply as the
child is wrapped up in his dreams, there is nothing more certain than
that he is as clear as any adult as to the difference between romance
and fact; and so it is no doubt with the savage, who can hardly be
denied to have at least as much reason as an average child.
Closer study of the savage points to the conclusion that the civilized
man falls into the same error in his regard as many adults do with
respect to children, whom they fail hopelessly to interpret through lack
of imagination, and to whom they are but tedious and ridiculous when
they would fain be instructive and amusing; forgetting that the
difference between the two
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