might well be taken for a direct spiritual emanation entirely
independent of ‘brute matter.’ Let us examine this point a little.
Musical instruments, and also the human voice, have a peculiarity as
regards their sounds which differs from mere pitch. A clarionet and
a violin, for example, may be both pitched to the same note, but a
listener who sees neither can at once tell that the _qualities_
of the notes are different. This difference is what the French call
_timbre_, and the Germans, we believe, _Klang_. So, also, we
can distinguish one vowel from another, though all may have the same
pitch. The difference here, according to the recent investigations of
Helmholtz, is due to the fact that certain incidental notes commingle
in each case with the principal one, and produce a composite result.
The ‘harmonics’ of a string are known to be due to minor vibrations
which superpose themselves upon the principal ones, as small ripples
cover parasitically the surfaces of large sea-waves. The notes of the
true simple wave and of its parasites are heard at once, and it is the
variation of the latter which produces differences in the _timbre_
of a musical instrument or of the human voice.
In speculating on those more subtle phases of expression to which we
have above referred, might we not offer the conjecture that they are
not due to those waves alone which make the eyes violet or give the
cheek its rose, but are a result produced by the compounding of these
with incidental waves, which influence the colour as the harmonic
waves of sound influence the pure quality of a note? We have often
watched with deep interest and sympathy the countenances of some of
the praying women in the churches of the Continent. We have seen a
penitent kneeling at a distance from the shrine of the Virgin, as if
afraid to come nearer. Suddenly a glow has overspread her countenance,
strengthening in radiance, till at length her very soul seemed shining
through her features. Sure of her acceptance, she has confidently
advanced, fallen prostrate immediately in front of the image, and
remained therefor a time in silent ecstasy. We have watched the ebbing
of the spiritual tide, and remarked the felicitous repose which it left
behind. At each new phase of emotion the _timbre_ of this woman’s
countenance changed, and
The music breathing from her face
became altered in quality.
The tendency of the above remarks is to show that the most subtle
phases of ‘expression’ have at least a proximate mechanical origin.
The splendours of the ‘imperial Eleänore’--the ‘languors of her love
deep eyes’--are all reducible to the same cause; and not only so, but
they actually exist for a time in space, isolated alike from her and
her worshipper. Every gleam of those eyes, every flush of her brows,
every motion of her lips requires the ether for its transmission, and
a certain calculable time to pass from her to him. During this time,
the expression which is to stir the soul, to kindle love or quench it,
exists in space as a purely mechanical affection of matter; and, for
aught we know, a slight steepness in the front of an ethereal billow, a
slight curl of its crest, or some other accident of form, may determine
whether the recipient of its shock is to be elated with joy or steeped
in misery.
The philosophy of the future will assuredly take more account than
that of the past of the relation of thought and feeling to physical
processes; and it may be that the qualities of the mind will be studied
through the organism as we now study the character of a force through
the affections of ordinary matter. We believe that every thought and
every feeling has its definite mechanical correlative--that it is
accompanied by a certain separation and remarshalling of the atoms
of the brain. This latter process is purely physical; and were the
faculties we now possess sufficiently strengthened, without the
creation of any new faculty, it would doubtless be within the range of
our augmented powers to infer from the molecular state of the brain
the character of the thought acting on it, and conversely to infer
from the thought the exact molecular condition of the brain. We do not
say--and this, as will be seen, is all-important--that the inference
here referred to would be an _à priori_ one. But by observing,
with the faculties we assume, the state of the brain and the associated
mental affections, both might be so tabulated side by side that, if
one were given, a mere reference to the table would declare the other.
Our present powers, it is true, shrivel into nothingness when brought
to bear on such a problem, but it is because of its complexity and our
limits that this is the case. The _quality_ of the problem and the
_quality_ of our powers are, we believe, so related, that a mere
expansion of the latter would enable them to cope with the former. Why,
then, in scientific speculation should we turn our eyes exclusively to
the humble past? May it not be that a time is coming--ages no doubt
distant, but still advancing--when the dwellers upon earth, starting
from the gross human brain of to-day as a rudiment, may be able to
apply to these mighty questions faculties of commensurate extent? Given
the requisite expansibility to the present senses and intelligence of
man--given also the time necessary for their expansion--and this high
goal may be attained. Development is all that is required, and not
a change of quality. There need be no absolute breach of continuity
between us and our loftier brothers yet to come.
We have guarded ourselves against saying that the inferring of thought
from material combinations and arrangements would be an inference _à
priori_. The inference meant would be the same in kind as that
which the observation of the effects of food and drink upon the mind
would enable us to make, differing only from the latter in the degree
of analytical insight which we suppose attained. Given the masses and
distances of the planets, we can infer the perturbations consequent on
their mutual attractions. Given the nature of a disturbance in water,
air, or ether--from the physical qualities of the medium we can infer
how its particles will be affected. Here the mind runs with certainty
along the line of thought which connects the phenomena, and from
beginning to end finds no break in the chain. But when we endeavour to
pass by a similar process from the phenomena of physics to those of
thought, we meet a problem which transcends any conceivable expansion
of the powers which we now possess. We may think over the subject again
and again, but it eludes all intellectual presentation. We stand at
length face to face with the Incomprehensible. The territory of physics
is wide, but it has its limits from which we look with vacant gaze into
the region beyond. Whence come we; whither go we? The question dies
without an answer--without even an echo--upon the infinite shores of
the Unknown. Let us follow matter to its utmost bounds; let us claim
it in all its forms to experiment with and to speculate upon. Casting
the term ‘vital force’ from our vocabulary, let us reduce, if we can,
the visible phenomena of life to mechanical attractions and repulsions.
Having thus exhausted physics, and reached its very rim, the real
mystery still looms beyond us. We have, in fact, made no step towards
its solution. And thus it will ever loom--ever beyond the bourne of
knowledge--compelling the philosophies of successive ages to confess
that
We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: One of my critics remarks, that he does not see the wit
of calling Goethe’s ‘Farbenlehre’ and Bain’s ‘Logic,’ ‘two volumes of
poetry.’ Nor do I.]
[Footnote 2: Induction, page 422.]
[Footnote 3: This glass, by reflected light, had a colour ‘strongly
resembling that of a decoction of horse-chestnut bark.’ Curiously
enough Goethe refers to this very decoction:--‘Man nehme einen Streifen
frischer Rinde von der Rosskastanie, man stecke denselben in ein
Glas Wasser, und in der kürzesten Zeit werden wir das vollkommenste
Himmelblau entstehen sehen.’--Goethe’s _Werke_, b. xxix. p. 24.]
[Footnote 4: A resolute scrutiny of the experiments, recently executed
with reference to this question, is sure to yield instructive results.]
[Footnote 5: Sir William Thomson.]
[Footnote 6: In the ‘Prefatory Letter’ to his ‘Lay Sermons,’ Mr.
Huxley speaks of ‘microscopists, ignorant alike of Philosophy and
Biology.’ With reference to one conspicuous member of this class, a
doctor of medicine, lately professor in a London college famous for its
orthodoxy, both Mr. Huxley and myself have long practised, and shall, I
trust, continue to practise, the tolerance recommended above.]
[Footnote 7: An Address to the Mathematical and Physical Section of the
British Association assembled at Norwich on August 19, 1868.]
[Footnote 8: From an article headed ‘Physics and Metaphysics,’ in the
_Saturday Review_ for August 4, 1860.]
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=TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES=
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they
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