THE FEELING-TONE OF SENSATION
Before attempting to prove that the impelling force in art-creation
is to be explained by the psychology of feeling, we must first pay
some attention to the general theory of emotional states. It would be
impossible to assert anything about the æsthetic importance of such
activities as have their origin in emotional conditions without first
having made out the relation between feeling and movement.
In this purely psychological investigation it is advantageous to
postpone all æsthetic considerations. The important thing is to get
hold of the mental factors in their simplest possible form. Even
the lowest feelings, therefore, the feeling-tones of mere physical
sensation or the vaguest emotional states, such as comfort or
discomfort, which are overlooked in all works on æsthetic proper, may
be of great value in this preliminary discussion.
It is preferable to begin with the feeling-tones of definitely physical
origin, because these hedonic elements have been subjected to an
experimental investigation which could never be undertaken with regard
to the complex emotions and sentiments. As early as 1887 Féré published
some important researches on the relation between sensation and
movement. By submitting persons to various external stimuli, he showed
that every such stimulus calls forth a modification of the activities
of the body, which modification, according to the intensity and the
duration of the stimulus, takes the character either of enhancement
or of arrest. In all cases when the apparatus used in the experiments
indicated a shortened reaction-time and an increased development of
energy, the subject of the experiment had experienced a feeling of
pleasure. Every painful stimulus, on the other hand, was connected with
a diminution of energy.[41]
These results have been corroborated in the main by the later
researches of Lehmann. He has not, however, restricted his attention
to the development of energy, but has also measured the changes in
pulsation and respiration which occur under the influence of various
stimuli. His conclusions are these:—
“Simple pleasurable sensations are accompanied by dilatation of the
blood-vessels, and perhaps also by an increase in the amplitude of
heart-contraction, together with an increase in the innervation of the
voluntary muscles, at least of those connected with respiration. In
sensations of pain one has to distinguish the first shock of irritation
from the subsequent state. At the moment of irritation there ensues a
deeper inhalation, and, if the irritation is strong, also an increase
in the innervation of voluntary muscles. Then there generally follows a
relaxation.”[42]
The physiological theory of pleasure and pain which can be deduced
from these experiments is, however, neither new nor original. Féré
has himself pointed out that his researches only serve to prove the
views which have been advanced with more or less explicitness by Kant,
Bain, Darwin, and Dumont.[43] All authors who have closely studied the
movements of expression have also remarked that pleasurable feelings
are accompanied by a tendency towards increased activity (Gratiolet,
Darwin, Bain, Bouillier, Mantegazza).[44] And the popular views on
pleasure and pain, as we find them expressed in literature, all agree
on this point: “La joie est l’air vital de notre âme. La tristesse
est un asthme compliqué d’atonie.”[45] Every one knows that movement
and unchecked increased activity generally create pleasure. And, on
the other hand, functional inhibition is in our experience closely
connected with feelings of pain.
Although these broad facts are universally recognised, there is
nevertheless no unanimity with regard to their interpretation. It
may be held, on the one hand, that the perception of those objective
conditions which call forth pleasure is accompanied by a tendency
to movement. That, conversely, movement creates pleasure would thus
be the result of an association. But it may also be contended that
the functional enhancement, the stimulation itself, when present to
consciousness, is perceived as pleasure, and that the feeling-tone
created by movement is thus not indirect and secondary, but, on the
contrary, is a typical pleasure.
We do not by any means deny the influence which associative processes
exercise on all our feelings and on the activities connected with
them. As has been shown by Darwin, animals as well as primitive man
have earned their chief enjoyment, outside their delight of warmth
and repose, by violent actions, such as hunting, war, and pairing
fights.[46] And if it be objected that memories from those distant
times cannot now influence our feelings, it must at least be admitted
that within the life of the individual a firm foundation is laid for
association between pleasure and activity.[47] Independently of all
general theories, we must therefore reckon with association as a
factor by which the motor element of pleasure is greatly increased.
But it seems to us impossible to make the remembrance—conscious or
unconscious—of earlier similar states the only ground of the activity
which is connected with pleasurable feelings.
It is at least far more simple and consistent to explain, with
Hamilton and Bain, the activity itself as the physiological condition
of pleasure. If any increase of function—whether brought about by
chemical, mechanical, or psychical (that is, indirectly mechanical)
influences—be considered as a physiological condition of pleasure, and
any arrest of function in the same way be considered as a counterpart
of pain, then all states of pleasure or pain may be included in one
common interpretation. Only it must be remembered that the increase
of function can never be measured by any absolute standard. The same
stimulus which in one individual calls forth pleasure may in another
individual cause pain, and the same bodily activity which we enjoy
when in a vigorous state of health may occasion suffering when we
are weak or ill. Such variations are evidently conditioned by the
varying functional powers of the organs involved. When these powers are
reduced, a stimulus, or a movement which usually produces a stimulating
effect, may instead call forth depression and pain.
In every explanation of pleasure-pain, attention must therefore be paid
not only to the claims which are made on the several organs by the
objective causes (stimuli or movements), but also to the capacity of
the organs to meet these claims. This capacity, on the other hand, is
evidently dependent upon the supply of energy afforded by the nutritive
processes. In the endeavour to pay due attention to both these factors
Lehmann has been led to this conclusion: “Pleasure and pain may in all
cases be assumed to be the psychical outcome of the relation between
the consumption of energy which at a given moment is demanded from the
organs, and the supply of energy which is afforded by nutrition.”[48]
In the course of a lengthy and laborious investigation Marshall has
arrived at a very similar result: “Pleasure and pain are determined by
the relation between the energy given out and the energy received at
any given moment by the physical organs which determine the content
of that moment.” Pleasure is experienced, according to Marshall’s
definition, whenever a surplus of stored energy is discharged in the
reaction to the stimulus; pain is experienced whenever a stimulus
claims a greater development of energy in the reaction than the organ
is capable of affording.[49]
In this mode of treatment due attention is paid to those theories
according to which the conditions of pleasure are to be sought, not in
expenditure of force, but in the receiving of force or in the recovery
of balance.[50] But though this point has its own importance, it cannot
by any means be put on a level with the dynamic aspect. Pleasure _can
never arise_ when the organs are not well-nourished, strong, and
capable of function; but it arises only _on the condition_ that they
actually do perform a function. As Marshall has rightly remarked,
there is no reason to believe that surplus of vigour and receipt of
nourishment in themselves could ever be objects of consciousness.[51]
As long as we can speak of mental states, these must be accompanied
by corresponding activities. The chief merit of Marshall’s thesis is
precisely this, that every emotional state, independently of its tone
and of its perceptible manifestations, can be interpreted in terms
of activity. Pleasure, acute or massive, appears as the result of a
stimulus, which, owing to a happy proportion between its intensity and
the functional capacity of the organ, has modified the bodily functions
in such a way as to produce manifestations of energy. Pain, acute or
massive, appears as the result of a stimulus, possibly of the same
kind, which, owing to a disproportion arising from its own greater
intensity or the smaller functional capacity in the organ, has called
forth a functional inhibition—that is to say, that kind of activity
which is manifested to us as an arrest of energy.
It would be too sanguine to expect the real nature of pleasure and
pain to be exhaustively defined in any formula such as the above.
From a theoretical point of view grave objections may undoubtedly be
raised against Marshall’s theory as well as against every general
interpretation of emotional states. It may even be admitted, and we
desire to admit it as soon as possible, that in several cases it seems
extremely difficult to derive the feeling-tone of even the simplest
sensations from the proportion between “energy given out and energy
received.”[52] But since, as far as we can see, similar difficulties
meet us in the application of every existing emotional theory, for
the present we must consider the constructions of Mr. Marshall,
notwithstanding their speculative and necessarily unsafe character, as
affording us the most consistent explanation of the hedonic phenomena.
In an earlier work, _Förstudier till en konstfilosofi_ (A Preliminary
Study for a Philosophy of Art), I have tried to discuss and refute
some of the arguments which can be adduced against this theory. In
the present work such a theoretic digression would lead us too far
away from the main subject. For a right understanding of the relation
between feeling and “expressional” movements it is not necessary,
we believe, to adopt exclusively any one of the emotional theories.
We shall be quite content if it is admitted that Mr. Marshall’s
interpretation affords us a scheme or formula by the aid of which
we can account, if not for the nature, at least for the external
manifestations of our feelings.
In applying his definitions to the various kinds of pleasure and pain,
Mr. Marshall has recourse to three important principles, viz. the
limited amount of energy which our system is capable of developing at
any given moment, the storage of surplus supplies of nourishment, and
the transference of energy from one organ to another. By referring
to these principles he has been able to bring under his explanation
those feelings which seem to correspond not to “activities,” but to
“states.”[53]
As is well known, Hamilton had already pointed out the important,
though unsuspected, element of activity which is involved in our
enjoyment of _dolce far niente_.[54] But with the physiology at his
command he could scarcely have explained why rest after heavy work is
always accompanied by eminently pleasurable feelings. If it be assumed,
however, that in the case of psychical effort, _e.g._, the call upon
our limited fund of energy has reduced the vegetative functions to
inactivity, and that this inactivity has caused a storage of nutritive
supply, then it is self-evident that the vegetative functions, as soon
as the one-sided effort has ceased, must discharge their surplus in
movements of a pleasurable character.
The pain arising from restricted activity can equally be explained in
terms of movement. If we believe that our system has a limited amount
of energy which—as long as life is maintained—must necessarily be
active in some direction or other, then we shall also understand that
anything which closes the natural and usual outlet of this energy will
give rise to activities in related organs, the nutritive state of which
does not present the conditions of pleasurable function. Mr. Marshall
has tried to indicate the details of the transition by which inactivity
in one organ causes excessive activity in other organs. His description
of the “gorging of the nutritive channels,” “the calling for aid of the
disabled elements,” etc., is, however, too figurative and poetical to
be of any importance in a psychological argument.[55] Taken as a vague
and necessarily coarse metaphor, this physiological image may, however,
illustrate a process which perhaps can never be exactly analysed, but
which is nevertheless familiar to everybody. No one who has experienced
in any higher degree the diffused sensation of gnawing inactivity can
doubt the active element in this corroding feeling. One seems to feel
how the checked and thwarted impulses devouringly turn themselves
inward. Poetical literature is full of passionate outcries against the
tortures which imposed inaction inflicts on active spirits; and modern
autobiographies give us pathetic examples of the sufferings of those
whose intellectual activity has been diverted from outward aims to
internal analysis. The candid confessions of Amiel and Kierkegaard show
the inevitable necessity with which mental energy, if arrested in its
natural course, finds itself an outlet in destructive activity. This
truth had already been expressed in simple and drastic form in Logau’s
old epigram:—
Ein Mühlstein und ein Menschenherz wird stets herumgetrieben.
Wenn beides nicht zu reiben hat, wird beides selbst zerrieben.
The displacement of mental attention corresponding to the transference
of energy from one organ to another in the inevitable search for a
channel of outlet causes arrested activity to be felt as an unbearable
massive pain; but this process implies at the same time a possibility
of relief. If the sufferings of restriction can be considered as
brought about by arrested impulses which have turned inwards, then it
is evident that any outward activity may overcome the obstruction.
Pleasure can perhaps not be achieved before the checked organ resumes
its functions; but even a vicarious activity in some related organ may
relieve the pain. Hence the diffused, undirected movements by which
we instinctively try to get rid of a feeling of restriction. Every
high-strung emotional state which has not yet found its appropriate
expression affords an instance of this sensation. Exalted delight
therefore often manifests itself in ecstatic dances and songs, which,
properly speaking, rather relieve an incipient pain than express a
pleasure. Violent movements act as unconscious expedients by which the
organism restores itself to its normal balance.
A similar instinct ought, one would expect, to operate in sensations
of acute pain. In point of fact, an obscure consciousness of the
limitation of functional energy, or, to put it in psychological
terms, of attentive power, leads us to seek and find relief from pain
in violent movement. Some of the frantic dances of savage tribes
undoubtedly serve to deaden the sufferings inflicted by ritual
tortures. But it is, of course, only in exceptional cases that these
anæsthetic expedients are intentionally resorted to. As a rule they are
to be considered as a radiation of nervous tension, and are so little
conscious that we can scarcely even call them instinctive. Besides all
the motor manifestations which thus follow upon a sensation of severe
pain in almost direct physiological sequence, some pantomimic activity
of defence or avoidance will generally be called forth by the notion of
an objective source of pain. Owing to associations derived from earlier
similar states, this reaction may often appear even when there is no
definite object which can be assigned as the cause of the feeling.
Among primitive people the pantomime of pain undoubtedly has its ground
in a mythological conception of the nature of feeling. Pain is regarded
as a concrete thing which the body may be capable of shaking off or
avoiding. Crude as it may seem, this illusion is so closely bound up
with our instinctive reactions that even the most enlightened man
can never completely emancipate himself from its influence. There is
thus nearly always an intellectual factor which co-operates with the
physical tendency towards energetic reaction to pain.
Thus pain, notwithstanding its inhibitive character, may act,
especially when it is acute, as a motor incitement. Hence the curious
cases of favourable medical effects produced by severe physical
suffering, which may serve not only as a distraction of the attention,
but also as a positive stimulation of sinking vitality. Hence also the
enhanced intellectual activity which often follows upon pain.[56] There
was perhaps more malignity than truth in the remark of Michelet that
Flaubert might imperil his talent by curing his boils;[57] but there
are unquestionable instances to prove that wounds and acute diseases
have exercised a powerful exciting influence on certain artistic
temperaments.
All these stimulating effects of pain must naturally be taken into
account in every emotional theory. But they can by no means be
adduced, as Fechner thinks, as an argument against the definition
which we have already given.[58] Reactions to pain follow, indeed,
so immediately upon the sensation, that they cannot be separated in
time from its proper expression. But it must always be remembered
that the activities, whether of writhing under the influence of
pain or of combating it, are secondary manifestations by which the
feeling-tone is gradually weakened. Whether the stimulating effects
appear at the very moment of impression or only when the sensation has
become fully conscious, pain is always, we believe, at its keenest
when the outward development of energy is lowest. If the notion
“expression” is conceived in its strictest sense, _i.e._ as the
physiological counterpart of the emotional state, then pain has only
one expression—inhibition.
With regard to states of pleasure it is more difficult to make any
distinction between primary and secondary manifestations. Every new
movement is a new expression of the same feeling which—as long as
fatigue does not set up its peculiar pain—is only enhanced by these
repeated “somatic resonances.” If pleasure is originated by the
increased function of one individual organ, then this stimulation
must, owing to the solidarity of the functions, gradually extend
over wider areas in the system. The more numerous the organs which
take part in the activity, the more numerous also are our sensations
of function, and the greater the gain of our pleasure in richness
and variety. An undefined feeling of vigour, assurance, or power
can only acquire distinctness and intensity by expressing itself in
some mode of physical or mental activity. But while stimulation is
thus directly connected with the feeling-tone of pleasurable states,
it must be admitted, on the other hand, that—as has been remarked
above—associative influences also contribute towards enhancing their
active manifestations. By these secondary motor-impulses, however,
the original feeling is only increased. It can therefore be said
that pleasure feeds and nurtures itself by expression. Pain, on the
contrary, increases in strength in the same degree as the inhibition
extends over the organism. But it can only be weakened by active
manifestations. Movements, as we have shown, deliver us from the
massive, indistinct pains of restriction as well as mitigate our acute
sufferings.
The life-preserving tendency which, under the feeling of pleasure,
leads us to movements which intensify the sensation and make it more
distinct for consciousness, compels us in pain to seek for relief and
deliverance in violent motor discharge. In either case the activity is
called expressional, and it seems difficult to avoid this equivocal
usage. But it is indispensable to make a strict distinction between
the expression which operates in the direction of the initial feeling
itself, and the expression by which this feeling is weakened.
This distinction will appear with greater clearness in the following
chapter, where we shall apply the laws of expression to the complex
emotional states. Then it will also be possible for us to point out
some æsthetic result of the psychological survey which perhaps may seem
for the moment a departure from our proper subject.