What is the cause of the folding of the margin of the human ear, which
distinguishes it from that of all other animals? Darwin remarks that it
“appears to be in some manner connected with the whole external ear
being permanently pressed backwards;” but this does not explain the
mysterious phenomenon. After many hours of profound meditation on this
subject I have come to the conclusion that this slight folding of the
ear’s margin is the beginning of a new phase of human evolution. In
course of time—this cannot be disproved—the fold of the margin will
become larger and larger, until finally the shells of the ear will have
been transformed into mobile lids for shutting out at will disagreeable
noises, even as the eyelids have been developed to shut out glaring
light. This would account for the providential preservation of the
rudimentary ear-muscles referred to above. When this process of
evolution is completed men coming home late will no longer have to
listen to curtain-lectures. The innovation will tend to make them
polite, for instead of telling the lecturer to “shut up,” they will shut
up themselves.
Seriously speaking, such movable ear-lids are very much needed in this
transition stage of civilisation. The present age of steam will by
future historians be classified as the age of noise. It is almost
impossible to find a place within ten miles of a city where one can rest
without having one’s sleep constantly disturbed, or at least _deprived
of its refreshing depth_, by the blowing of railway and factory
whistles. Both are unnecessary, inasmuch as railway signals would be
quite as effective if not so murderously loud and prolonged, while
factory whistles are either blown at the moment when the operatives go
to work, when a simple bell would do as well, or they are blown an hour
earlier to wake up the workmen,—a most outrageous proceeding, as
everybody else sleeping within a radius of a mile or more is thus waked
up at six o’clock.
The fact that these nuisances have so long been tolerated shows how
primitive is as yet the æsthetic development of the average human ear.
Some people even smile at you for being so “nervous,” and boast of their
indifference to such hideous, brain-racking noises. The Esquimaux and
Chinese would doubtless assume a similar attitude regarding their
indifference to noisome stenches. In mediæval times, Europeans in
general were quite as indifferent to the emanations from their gutters
as they still are to the hideous noises in the streets. It has often
been noted with surprise that the death-rate in London and the general
aspect of health should be so much more favourable than that of
continental cities, which are free from the depressing London fogs. The
reason, doubtless, lies chiefly in the facts that there are no vile
sewer odours in London to poison the atmosphere, and that the pavement
of the streets is of such a nature that one can sleep soundly at night,
provided there are no steam whistles near. London, too, does not
tolerate the brutal whip-cracking which transforms French, German, and
Swiss towns and cities into Bedlams of noise. In this respect New York
resembles London; but here the comparison ends. New York pavements are
the noisiest, roughest, and dirtiest in the world. I have known of
invalids who were advised to drive in the Central Park, but could not do
so because they could not bear on their way to drive even up Fifth
Avenue,—a street lined with the houses of millionaires. And to walk on
Broadway for twenty minutes, talking to a friend, makes one as hoarse as
delivering a two-hour lecture.
There can be no doubt that a horror of useless noise grows with the
general refinement of the senses and the mind. Goethe’s aversion to
noise, especially at night, is well known. It led him to poison dogs
that disturbed him. The delicate hearing of Franz, the great song
composer, was ruined by the whistle of a locomotive. And Schopenhauer
has put the whole matter into a nutshell in these admirable words:
“Intellectual persons, and all in general who have much _esprit_, cannot
endure noise. Astounding, on the other hand, is the insensibility of
ordinary people to noise. The quantity of noise which any one can endure
without annoyance is really related inversely to his mental endowments,
and may be regarded as a pretty accurate measure of them.”