These observations, on our muscular pains and pleasures, in conformity

with that view of them which I endeavoured to give you, in a former

lecture, are not digressive now, nor uselessly repeated. It is of great

importance for the applications which we have to make, that you should

be fully aware that our muscular frame, is not merely a part of the

living machinery of motion, but is also truly an organ of sense. When I

move my arm, without resistance, I am conscious of a certain feeling;

when the motion is impeded, by the presence of an external body, I am

conscious of a different feeling, arising partly, indeed, from the

mere sense of touch, in the moving limb compressed, but not consisting

merely in this compression, since, when the same pressure is made by

a foreign force, without any muscular effort on my part, my general

feeling is very different. It is the feeling of this resistance to our

progressive effort, (combined, perhaps, with the mere tactual feeling)

which forms what we term, our feeling of solidity or hardness; and,

without it, the tactual feeling would be nothing more, than a sensation

indifferent or agreeable, or disagreeable or severely painful,

according to the force of the pressure, in the particular case; in

the same way, as the matter of heat, acting, in different degrees, on

this very organ of touch, and on different portions of its surface, at

different times, produces all the intermediate sensations, agreeable,

disagreeable, or indifferent, from the pain of excessive cold, to the

pain of burning; and produces them in like manner, without suggesting

the presence of any solid body, external to ourselves.

Were the _cube_, therefore, in the case supposed, pressed, for the

first time, on the hand, it would excite a certain sensation, indeed,

but not that of resistance, which always implies a muscular effort

that is resisted, and consequently not that of hardness, which is a

mode of resistance. It would be very different, however, if we fairly

made the attempt to press against it; for, then, our effort would be

impeded, and the consequent feeling of resistance would arise; which,

as co-existing in this case, and in every case of effort, with the

particular sensation of touch, might afterwards be suggested by it, on

the simple recurrence of the same sensation of touch, so as to excite

the notion of hardness, in the body touched, without the renewal of any

muscular effort on our part, in the same manner as the angular surfaces

of the cube, if we chance to turn our eye on it, are suggested by the

mere _plane_ of _colour_, which it presents to our immediate vision,

and which is all that our immediate vision would, of itself, have

made known to us. The feeling of resistance, then, I trust, it will

be admitted, and consequently of hardness, and all the other modes of

resistance, is a muscular, not a tactual feeling.

But though the resistance or hardness of the cube, as implying some

counter effort, may not be immediately sensible to our superficial

organ of touch, are not its dimensions so perceived? Its cubical form,

it will be allowed, cannot be felt, as only one of its surfaces is

supposed to be pressed upon the hand; but, is not at least this square

surface perceived immediately? In short, does not touch, originally and

immediately, convey to us the knowledge of extension?

With our present complete belief of external things, indeed, and

especially of our organs of sense, the most important of these,

the origin of our knowledge of extension, seems to us a matter of

very easy explanation. The square surface presses on our organ of

touch,--it affects not a single physical point merely, but a portion

of the organ, corresponding exactly, in surface with itself; and the

perception of the similar square, it will be said, thus immediately

arises. But, in all this easy explanation, it is very strangely

forgotten, that the _feeling_, whatever it may be, which the impression

of the square surface produces, is not itself the square configuration

of our tactual organ, corresponding with that surface, but the state

of a very different substance, which is as little square, as it

is round or elliptical,--which is, indeed, from its own absolute

simplicity, incapable of resemblance in shape to any thing; and the

resemblance of which, therefore, to the shape of the mere organ, is

as little to be expected in the sensations of touch,--as that other

state of mind, which constitutes the sensation of the fragrance of a

rose, can be expected to resemble the shape of the odorous particles

themselves, or of the organ of smell, which is affected by them. The

very knowledge which touch is supposed to give, is, in this case, most

inconsistently, assumed, as existing in the mind, before the very touch

which is supposed to give it. If, indeed, the mind could know, that a

part of its external corporeal organ is compressed into the form of a

square, or that another square surface is compressing that organ, the

difficulty would be at an end; for it would, then, most undoubtedly,

have that very knowledge of extension, the origin of which we seek. But

it is not explained, _how_ the mind, which alone can have sensation

or knowledge, and which certainly is not square itself, is to be made

acquainted with the squareness of its own corporeal organ, or of the

foreign body; nor, indeed, how the squareness of the mere external

organ should produce this particular affection of the mind, more

than if the organ were compressed into the shape of a polygon of one

thousand sides.

Let it be supposed, that, when a small cube is pressed on the hand,

one hundred physical points of the organ of touch are affected in a

certain manner. We have, it is said, an immediate perception of a

square surface. Let it next be supposed, that, instead of one hundred

of these continuous points of the organ, an equal number of points,

at various distances in the surface of the body, are affected in the

same manner. On this supposition it will scarcely be said, that the

perception of a square would arise, when there is no square, more

than any other imaginable form, in the space comprehended in the

pressure. Yet what difference is there, in these two cases, to a

mind that is, by supposition, absolutely ignorant of every bodily

organ, and consequently alike ignorant of the nearness or distance of

the points of the organ of touch? In both cases, one hundred points,

equally sensible, are affected, and are affected precisely in the same

manner;--and there is truly no difference, unless we tacitly suppose

the mind to be conscious of the bodily frame, and, therefore, of the

continuity of certain points of the organ of touch, with the other

points that are proximate to them,--a sort of knowledge, for which it

would not be easy to account, and which it is impossible to conceive,

without conceding the very point in question. A little attentive

reflection on the circumstances of these two cases, will, perhaps, aid

you in freeing your minds from the illusive belief, of which it may not

be easy for you at first to divest yourselves,--that the continuity and

similarity of shape, which are known to _us_ the inquirers, are known

also to that little sentient being, whose first elements of knowledge

we are endeavouring to trace.

We are too apt to forget, in inquiries of this sort, that it is not

in our organ of touch merely, that a certain extent of the nervous

extremity of our sensorial organ is affected. This occurs, equally,

in every other organ. In the superficial expansion of the nerves of

hearing, smell, taste, for example, it is not a point merely that is

affected, but a number of continuous points, precisely, as in the

superficial organ of touch; and if, therefore, the notion of extension

in general, or of figure, which is limited extension, arose whenever a

part of the nervous expansion was affected in any way, we should derive

these notions as much from a taste, or a smell, or a sound, as from any

of the configurations or affections of our organ of touch.

It is not, therefore, merely because a certain limited part of the

sensorial organ is affected, that we have the notion of the square

surface, in the case supposed by us: for, if this alone were necessary,

we should have square inches, and half inches, and various other forms,

rectilinear or curvilinear, of _fragrance_ and _sound_.

But, it may perhaps be urged, though all our organs must, indeed, exist

equally with our organ of touch of a certain shape when affected,--and

though the sensorial figure of our other organs, is not accompanied

with any of those mental affections, which constitute the perception

of angular or curvilinear figure, there is something, in the nature

of that part of the sensorial organ, which terminates on the general

surface of the body, that impresses the mind, immediately, with a

sensation, corresponding with the exact figure, in which the organ may

itself exist. When the _square_, therefore, in the case imagined by us,

is impressed upon the organ, the mental affection which constitutes our

notion of a square may immediately arise, though it would not arise

from the similar squareness of our organs of smell or hearing.

In answer to this mere supposition, I may remark, that the sensorial

organ of touch exists, at every moment, of a certain shape, and that

we yet have no perception of this shape, so as to be able to delineate

the whole extent of our _tactual_ organ, in the same manner as we could

delineate the impressing square, in the case supposed: or, if it be

said, that the configuration of the organ does not excite this mental

affection, in the quiescent state of the part, but only when it is

itself affected, I may remark, that we are as little able to delineate

its figure, when we are exposed to the action of heat, which yet acts

most powerfully upon this very organ, inducing sensations, at least as

vivid as those of hardness or figure.

It may still, however, be contended, for in a question of this sort

I wish fairly to imagine every possible argument--it may still be

contended, that, though the organ of touch has no effect, in this way

merely as configured, and might, in any other configuration operate,

precisely in the same manner, on the sentient mind,--still the harmony

of the bodily and mental changes is so arranged by nature, that the

organic state in touch, whatever it may be, is immediately followed

by the knowledge of the extension of the impressing body,--in the

same manner as a certain state of the organ of _smell_, whatever that

state may be, is immediately followed by that affection of the mind,

which constitutes our sensation of the fragrance of a rose. Though

this argument, in truth, rather begs the question, than attempts to

meet it, let us give to it all the force which it may claim. The

accurate determination of the point may, indeed, seem, at first almost

impossible; since in whatever manner the seeming perception may arise,

it must be admitted, that we now seem to perceive extension, as it were

immediately, by touch; though not more immediately than in vision we

seem to perceive the positions of objects in different distances before

our eyes.--But there is, fortunately, at least one test, which the

point in question still admits. If the apparent perception of extension

by touch, be truly and originally immediate, and not acquired, like the

apparent perception of distance in vision, so as to involve a sort of

intellectual measurement or suggestion of some sort, after the primary

sensation,--the perception must be constant and universal, not confined

to a few simple and familiar forms, which, if we can distinguish

these alone, we may be supposed to have learned from experience,

but extending to forms of every kind; for it would certainly be a

very strange abuse of the license of supposition, to imagine that we

perceive a square immediately, but not a circle, or a circle but not a

square, or indeed any other figure. Even at present, then--though the

circumstances of the trial,--when the experience of many years must

have exhausted so many varieties of form, associating the notion of

these with the particular tactual feeling whatever that may be--are

surely very unfavourable to the opinion which I maintain,--even at

present, I may safely trust to experiment, the determination of

the question. When a body which we do not see, is pressed on any

part of our tactual organ, do we immediately discover its form,--as

immediately, as we are sensible of fragrance, when our organ of smell

is in a healthy state, and an odoriferous body is presented to it, or

of sound, when a cannon is fired beside us? This we certainly should

do, if figure were as direct an object of the sense of touch, as

fragrance and sound are of the senses of smell and hearing. Even though

it be a form of the simplest kind, square, round, triangular, that is

thus pressed upon our palm, we scarcely distinguish the precise species

of figure for a moment, and are long before we can convince ourselves,

that we have perceived its exact magnitude, in the determination of

which, after all, we shall very probably be mistaken, if we confine

ourselves to the mere intellectual measurement; though we should even

add to the immediate sensation of touch, all the discriminating skill

of our judgment and reflection. But, if the body be irregular in

form,--however slight the irregularity may be, and of a species that

would not perplex in the slightest degree our sense of sight, and which

certainly, therefore, should perplex as little our sense of touch,

which is supposed to be still more immediately perceptive of form,--we

are incapable for some time, and I may even say are incapable

altogether, of fixing, with precision, its magnitude and figure--that

very magnitude and figure which are yet said to be the direct objects

of touch. Of this a single trial may convince any one; it is a trial

which as it seems to me decisive, I must request you to make. Are we

then entitled to say, in the case of the square surface of the cube

pressed upon our hand, that though we cannot discover other forms and

magnitudes, we yet discover its extension, and consequently its figure,

by the immediate sense of touch?--or may we not rather conclude with

confidence, that what is true of other forms is true of this also,

that it is only in consequence of more frequent experience we have

learned as it were to distinguish, with some degree of certainty, the

simpler forms, which, as mere forms, are not more direct objects of

the sense of touch than forms the most irregular, and that without

such experience, therefore, our mere sense of touch is incapable of

informing us of the figure of bodies, immediately and originally.

If then the knowledge of extension be not derived from our immediate

sense of touch, it must be derived from some other source, which

allows it to be associated with the feelings of touch, and afterwards

suggested by these, in the same manner as distant extent, in the case

of vision, is suggested by a few slight varieties of colour. Let us

endeavour, then, since some such source there must be, to discover what

the source is.

FOOTNOTES:

[84] Deserted Village, v. 120.

[85] Principles of Moral and Political Science, Part I. c. i. sect. i.

[86] Cowper's Task, Book IV.

LECTURE XXIII.

ANALYSIS OF THE FEELINGS USUALLY ASCRIBED TO THE SENSE OF TOUCH,

CONTINUED.

My last Lecture, Gentlemen, was employed in considering the information

which we receive from the sense of _touch_, or rather the information

which we are commonly supposed to receive from that sense,--but which,

in a great part at least, I am inclined to ascribe to another source.

The qualities of bodies, supposed to be made known to us by touch, I

reduced to _two_, of which all--whatever be the variety of names that

express them,--are mere varieties, RESISTANCE and EXTENSION:--solidity,

liquidity, viscidity, hardness, softness, roughness, smoothness,

being modes of RESISTANCE, and nothing more;--figure, magnitude,

divisibility, as evidently nothing more than modes of EXTENSION: and I

stated reasons, which induce me to believe, that neither our feeling of

resistance nor that of extension, has its direct origin in the sense of

touch; though the original simple feeling, which this organ affords, is

_now_, from constant association, almost indiscriminately combined with

both, in some one or other of their varieties.

The first of these classes,--that which includes the various

modifications of _resistance_,--I examined at great length, and

showed, I trust, that it is not to our organ of touch we are indebted

for these, but that they are feelings of another sense, of which our

muscular frame is the organ,--the feelings, in short, of which every

one must have been conscious, who has attempted to grasp any body, or

to press against it, when the full contraction of the muscles must,

of course, have been impeded. According as the body is hard or soft,

rough or smooth,--that is to say, according as it resists, in various

degrees, the progress of our effort of contraction,--the muscular

feeling, which arises from the variously impeded effort, will vary

in proportion; and we call hard, soft, rough, smooth, that which

produces one or other of the varieties of these muscular feelings of

resistance,--as we term sweet or bitter, blue or yellow, that which

produces either of these sensations of taste or vision. With the

feeling of resistance, there is, indeed, in every case, combined, a

certain tactual feeling, because we must touch whatever we attempt to

grasp; but it is not of this mere tactual feeling we think, when we

term bodies hard or soft,--it is of the greater or less resistance

which they afford to our muscular contraction.

I next proceeded to consider the other class of supposed tangible

qualities, which includes the various modifications of _extension_,

and urged many arguments to show, in like manner, that,--however

indissolubly these may seem at present to be connected with the simple

feelings of our organ of touch,--it is not to our simple original

feelings of this sense, that we owe our knowledge of them, as qualities

of things without.

Though the notion of _extension_, however, may arise in the manner

which I have supposed, this, it may be said, is not the notion of

external existence. To what, then, are we to ascribe the belief of

external reality, which now accompanies our sensations of touch? It

appears to me to depend on the feeling of resistance,--the organ

of which, as a muscular feeling, I before explained to you, which

breaking in, without any known cause of difference, on an accustomed

series, and combining with the notion of extension, and consequently

of divisibility, previously acquired, furnishes the elements of that

compound notion, which we term the notion of _matter_. _Extension_,

_resistance_;--to combine these simple notions in something which is

not ourselves, and to have the notion of matter, are precisely the

same thing; as it is the same thing to have combined the head and neck

of a man with the body and legs of a horse, and to have the notion of

that fabulous being, which the ancients denominated a _centaur_. It

certainly, at least, would not be easy for any one to define matter

more simply, than as that which has parts, and that which resists our

effort to grasp it; and, in our analysis of the feelings of infancy,

we have been able to discover how both these notions may have arisen

in the mind, and arisen too, in circumstances, which must lead to the

combination of them in one complex notion.

The infant stretches out his arm for the first time, by that volition

without a known object, which is either a mere instinct, or very near

akin to one,--this motion is accompanied with a certain feeling,--he

repeats the volition which moves his arm fifty or one thousand times,

and the same progress of feeling takes place during the muscular

action. In this repeated progress, he feels the truth of that intuitive

proposition, which, in the whole course of the life that awaits him,

is to be the source of all his expectations, and the guide of all

his actions,--the simple proposition, that _what has been_ as an

antecedent, will be followed by what has been as a consequent. At

length he stretches out his arm again, and instead of the accustomed

progression, there arises, in the resistance of some object opposed

to him, a feeling of a very different kind which, if he persevere

in his voluntary effort, increases gradually to severe pain, before

he has half completed the usual progress. There is a difference,

therefore, which we may, without any absurdity, suppose to astonish

the little reasoner; for the expectation of similar consequents, from

similar antecedents, is observable even in his earliest actions, and

is probably the result of an original law of mind, as universal, as

that which renders certain sensations of sight and sound the immediate

result of certain affections of our eye or ear. To any being, who is

thus impressed with belief of similarities of sequence, a different

consequent necessarily implies a difference of the antecedent. In the

case at present supposed, however, the infant, who as yet knows nothing

but himself, is conscious of no previous difference; and the feeling of

resistance seems to him, therefore, something unknown, which has its

cause in something that is not himself.

I am aware, that the application to an infant, of a process of

reasoning expressed in terms of such grave and formal philosophic

nomenclature, has some chance of appearing ridiculous. But the

_reasoning_ itself is very different from the _terms_ employed to

express it, and is truly as simple and natural, as the terms, which

our language obliges us to employ in expressing it, are abstract and

artificial. The infant, however, in his feeling of similarity of

antecedents and consequents, and of the necessity, therefore, of a new

antecedent, where the consequent is difficult, has the _reasoning_,

but not the _terms_. He does not form the proposition as universal, and

applicable to cases that have not yet existed; but he _feels_ it in

every particular case, as it occurs. That he does truly reason, with at

least as much subtility, as is involved in the process now supposed,

cannot be doubted by those who attend to the manifest results of his

little inductions, in those acquisitions of knowledge, which show

themselves in the actions, and, I may say, almost in the very looks of

the little reasoner,--at a period long before that to which his own

remembrance is afterwards to extend, when, in the maturer progress of

his intellectual powers, the darkness of eternity will meet his eye

alike, whether he attempt to gaze on the past, or on the future; and

the wish to know the events, with which he is afterwards to be occupied

and interested, will not be more unavailing, than the wish to retrace

events, that were the occupation and interest of the most important

years of his existence.

Then,

“So--when the mother, bending o'er his charms,

Clasps her fair nurseling in delighted arms;--

With sparkling eye the blameless plunderer owns

Her soft embraces and endearing tones,

Seeks the salubrious fount with opening lips,

Spreads his inquiring hands, and smiles and sips.”[87]

Even then, many a process of ratiocination is going on, which might

have served as an example of _strict logic_ to Aristotle himself, and

which affords results, far more valuable to the individual reasoner,

than all the contents of all the folios of the crowd of that great

logician's scholastic commentators.

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