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Essays: Scientific, Political, and Speculative, Volume II
This explanation is in harmony with the fact that when, among several persons who witness the same ludicrous occurrence, there are some who do not laugh, it is because there has arisen in them an emotion not participated in by the rest, and which is sufficiently massive to absorb all the nascent excitement. Among the spectators of an awkward tumble, those who preserve their gravity are those in whom there is excited a degree of sympathy with the sufferer, sufficiently great to serve as an outlet for the feeling which the occurrence had turned out of its previous course. Sometimes anger carries off the arrested current; and so prevents laughter. An instance of this was lately furnished me by a friend who had been witnessing the feats at Franconi’s. A tremendous leap had just been made by an acrobat over a number of horses. The clown, seemingly envious of this success, made ostentatious preparation for doing the like; and then, taking the preliminary run with immense energy, stopped short on reaching the first horse, and pretended to wipe some dust from its haunches. In most of the spectators, merriment was excited; but in my friend, wound up by the expectation of the coming leap to a state of great nervous tension, the effect of the baulk was to produce indignation. Experience thus proves what the theory implies; namely, that the discharge of arrested feelings into the muscular system, takes place only in the absence of other adequate channels – does not take place if there arise other feelings equal in amount to those arrested.
Evidence still more conclusive is at hand. If we contrast the incongruities which produce laughter with those which do not, we see that in the non-ludicrous ones the unexpected feeling aroused, though wholly different in kind, is not less in quantity or intensity. Among incongruities which may excite anything but a laugh, Mr. Bain instances – “A decrepit man under a heavy burden, five loaves and two fishes among a multitude, and all unfitness and gross disproportion; an instrument out of tune, a fly in ointment, snow in May, Archimedes studying geometry in a siege, and all discordant things; a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a breach of bargain, and falsehood in general; the multitude taking the law in their own hands, and everything of the nature of disorder; a corpse at a feast, parental cruelty, filial ingratitude, and whatever is unnatural; the entire catalogue of the vanities given by Solomon, are all incongruous, but they cause feelings of pain, anger, sadness, loathing, rather than mirth.” Now in these cases, where the totally unlike state of consciousness suddenly produced, is not inferior in mass to the preceding one, the conditions to laughter are not fulfilled. As above shown, laughter naturally results only when consciousness is unawares transferred from great things to small – only when there is what we may call a descending incongruity.
And now observe, finally, the fact, alike inferable a priori and illustrated in experience, that an ascending incongruity not only fails to cause laughter, but works on the muscular system an effect of the reverse kind. When after something very insignificant there arises without anticipation something very great, the emotion we call wonder results; and this emotion is accompanied not by contraction of the muscles, but by relaxation of them. In children and country people, that falling of the jaw which occurs on witnessing an imposing and unexpected change, exemplifies this effect. Persons wonder-struck at the production of a striking result by a seemingly-inadequate cause, are frequently described as unconsciously dropping the things they held in their hands. Such are just the effects to be anticipated. After an average state of consciousness, absorbing but a small quantity of nervous energy, is aroused without notice, a strong emotion of awe, terror, or admiration; joined with the astonishment due to an apparent want of adequate causation. This new state of consciousness demands far more nervous energy than that which it has suddenly replaced; and this increased absorption of nervous energy in mental changes, involves a temporary diminution of the outflow in other directions: whence the pendent jaw and the relaxing grasp.
One further observation is worth making. Among the several sets of channels into which surplus feeling might be discharged, was named the nervous system of the viscera. The sudden overflow of an arrested mental excitement, which, as we have seen, results from a descending incongruity, must doubtless stimulate not only the muscular system, as we see it does, but also the internal organs: the heart and stomach must come in for a share of the discharge. And thus there seems to be a good physiological basis for the popular notion that mirth-creating excitement facilitates digestion.
Though, in doing so, I go beyond the boundaries of the immediate topic, I may fitly point out that the method of inquiry here followed, opens the way to interpretation of various phenomena besides those of laughter. To show the importance of pursuing it, I will indicate the explanation it furnishes of another familiar class of facts.
All know how generally a large amount of emotion disturbs the action of the intellect, and interferes with the power of expression. A speech delivered with great facility to tables and chairs, is by no means so easily delivered to an audience. Every schoolboy can testify that his trepidation, when standing before a master, has often disabled him from repeating a lesson which he had duly learnt. In explanation of this we commonly say that the attention is distracted – that the proper train of ideas is broken by the intrusion of ideas that are irrelevant. But the question is, in what manner does unusual emotion produce this effect; and we are here supplied with a tolerably obvious answer. The repetition of a lesson, or set speech previously thought out, implies the flow of a very moderate amount of nervous excitement through a comparatively narrow channel. The thing to be done is simply to call up in succession certain previously-arranged ideas – a process in which no great amount of mental energy is expended. Hence, when there is a large quantity of emotion, which must be discharged in some direction or other; and when, as usually happens, the restricted series of intellectual actions to be gone through, does not suffice to carry it off; there result discharges along other channels besides the one prescribed: there are aroused various ideas foreign to the train of thought to be pursued; and these tend to exclude from consciousness those which should occupy it.
And now observe the meaning of those bodily actions spontaneously set up under these circumstances. The schoolboy saying his lesson, commonly has his fingers actively engaged – perhaps in twisting about a broken pen, or perhaps in squeezing the angle of his jacket; and if told to keep his hands still, he soon again falls into the same or a similar trick. Many anecdotes are current of public speakers having incurable automatic actions of this class: barristers who perpetually wound and unwound pieces of tape; members of parliament ever putting on and taking off their spectacles. So long as such movements are unconscious, they facilitate the mental actions. At least this seems a fair inference from the fact that confusion frequently results from putting a stop to them: witness the case narrated by Sir Walter Scott of his school-fellow, who became unable to say his lesson after the removal of the waistcoat button which he habitually fingered while in class. But why do they facilitate the mental actions? Clearly because they draw off a portion of the surplus nervous excitement. If, as above explained, the quantity of mental energy generated is greater than can find vent along the narrow channel of thought that is open to it; and if, in consequence, it is apt to produce confusion by rushing into other channels of thought; then, by allowing it an exit through the motor nerves into the muscular system, the pressure is diminished, and irrelevant ideas are less likely to intrude on consciousness.
This further illustration will, I think, justify the position that something may be achieved by pursuing in other cases this kind of psychological inquiry. A complete explanation of the phenomena, requires us to trace out all the consequences of any given state of consciousness; and we cannot do this without studying the effects, bodily and mental, as varying in quantity at one another’s expense. We should probably learn much if in every case we asked – Where is all the nervous energy gone?
END OF VOL. II1
It is curious that the author of “The Plurality of Worlds,” with quite other aims, should have persuaded himself into similar conclusions.
2
I have been charged with misrepresenting Kant and misunderstanding him, because I have used the expression “forms of Thought” instead of “forms of Intuition.” Elsewhere I have shown that my argument against him remains equally valid when the phrase “forms of Intuition” is used. Here I may in the first place add that I did but follow some Kantists in saying “forms of Thought,” and I may add in the second place that the objection is superficial and quite irrelevant to the issue. Thought when broadly used as antithetical to Things includes Intuition: it comprehends in this sense all that is subjective as distinguished from all that is objective, and in so doing comprehends Intuition. Nor is this all. There cannot be Intuition without Thought: every act of intuition implies an act of classing without which the thing intuited is not known as such or such; and every act of classing is an act of thought.
3
Some propositions laid down by M. Littré, in his book – Auguste Comte et la Philosophie Positive (published in 1863), may fitly be dealt with here. In the candid and courteous reply he makes to my strictures on the Comtean classification in “The Genesis of Science,” he endeavours to clear up some of the inconsistencies I pointed out; and he does this by drawing a distinction between objective generality and subjective generality. He says – “qu’il existe deux ordres de généralité, l’une objective et dans les choses, l’autre subjective, abstraite et dans l’esprit.” This sentence, in which M. Littré makes subjective generality synonymous with abstractness, led me at first to conclude that he had in view the same distinction as that which I have above explained between generality and abstractness. On re-reading the paragraph, however, I found this was not the case. In a previous sentence he says – “La biologie a passé de la considération des organes à celles des tissus, plus généraux que les organes, et de la considération des tissus à celle des éléments anatomiques, plus généraux que les tissus. Mais cette généralité croissante est subjective non objective, abstraite non concrète.” Here it is manifest that abstract and concrete, are used in senses analogous to those in which they are used by M. Comte; who, as we have seen, regards general physiology as abstract and zoology and botany as concrete. And it is further manifest that the word abstract, as thus used, is not used in its proper sense. For, as above shown, no such facts as those of anatomical structure can be abstract facts; but can only be more or less general facts. Nor do I understand M. Littré’s point of view when he regards these more general facts of anatomical structure, as subjectively general and not objectively general. The structural phenomena presented by any tissue, such as mucous membrane, are more general than the phenomena presented by any of the organs which mucous membrane goes to form, simply in the sense that the phenomena peculiar to the membrane are repeated in a greater number of instances than the phenomena peculiar to any organ into the composition of which the membrane enters. And, similarly, such facts as have been established respecting the anatomical elements of tissues, are more general than the facts established respecting any particular tissue, in the sense that they are facts which the various parts of organized bodies exhibit in a greater number of cases – they are objectively more general; and they can be called subjectively more general only in the sense that the conception corresponds with the phenomena.
Let me endeavour to clear up this point: – There is, as M. Littré truly says, a decreasing generality that is objective. If we omit the phenomena of Dissolution, which are changes from the special to the general, all changes which matter undergoes are from the general to the special – are changes involving a decreasing generality in the united groups of attributes. This is the progress of things. The progress of thought , is not only in the same direction, but also in the opposite direction. The investigation of Nature discloses an increasing number of specialities; but it simultaneously discloses more and more the generalities within which these specialities fall. Take a case. Zoology, while it goes on multiplying the number of its species, and getting a more complete knowledge of each species (decreasing generality); also goes on discovering the common characters by which species are united into larger groups (increasing generality). Both these are subjective processes; and in this case, both orders of truth reached are concrete – formulate the phenomena as actually manifested. The truth that mammals of all kinds have seven cervical vertebræ (I believe there is one exception) is a generalization – a general relation in thought answering to a general relation in things. As the existence of seven cervical vertebræ in each mammal is a concrete fact, the statement of it is a concrete truth, and the statement colligating such truths is not made other than concrete by holding of case after case.
M. Littré, recognizing the necessity for some modification of the hierarchy of the Sciences, as enunciated by M. Comte, still regards it as substantially true; and for proof of its validity, he appeals mainly to the essential constitutions of the Sciences. It is unnecessary for me here to meet, in detail, the arguments by which he supports the proposition, that the essential constitutions of the Sciences, justify the order in which M. Comte places them. It will suffice to refer to the foregoing pages, and to the pages which are to follow, as containing the definitions of those fundamental characteristics which demand the grouping of the Sciences in the way I have pointed out. As already shown, and as will be shown still more clearly by and bye, the radical differences of constitution among the Sciences, necessitate the colligation of them into the three classes – Abstract, Abstract-Concrete, and Concrete. How irreconcilable is M. Comte’s classification with these groups, will be at once apparent on inspection. It stands thus: —
• Mathematics (including rational Mechanics)… partly Abstract, partly Abstract-Concrete.
• Astronomy.. Concrete.
• Physics.. Abstract-Concrete.
• Chemistry.. Abstract-Concrete.
• Biology.. Concrete.
• Sociology.. Concrete.
4
This definition includes the laws of relations called necessary, but not those of relations called contingent. These last, in which the probability of an inferred connexion varies with the number of times such connexion has occurred in experience, are rightly dealt with mathematically.
5
Here, by way of explanation of the term negatively-quantitative, it will suffice to instance the proposition that certain three lines will meet in a point, as a negatively-quantitative proposition; since it asserts the absence of any quantity of space between their intersections. Similarly, the assertion that certain three points will always fall in a straight line, is negatively-quantitative; since the conception of a straight line implies the negation of any lateral quantity, or deviation.
6
Lest the meaning of this division should not be understood, it may be well to name, in illustration, the estimates of the statistician. Calculations respecting population, crime, disease, etc., have results which are correct only numerically, and not in respect of the totalities of being or action represented by the numbers.
7
Perhaps it will be asked – how can there be a Geometry of Motion into which the conception of Force does not enter? The reply is, that the time-relations and space-relations of Motion may be considered apart from those of Force, in the same way that the space-relations of Matter may be considered apart from Matter.
8
I am indebted to Prof. Frankland for reminding me of an objection that may be made to this statement. The production of new compounds by synthesis, has of late become an important branch of chemistry. According to certain known laws of composition, complex substances, which never before existed, are formed, and fulfil anticipations both as to their general properties and as to the proportions of their constituents – as proved by analysis. Here it may be said with truth, that analysis is used to verify synthesis. Nevertheless, the exception to the above statement is apparent only, – not real. In so far as the production of new compounds is carried on merely for the obtainment of such new compounds, it is not Science but Art – the application of pre-established knowledge to the achievement of ends. The proceeding is a part of Science, only in so far as it is a means to the better interpretation of the order of Nature. And how does it aid the interpretation? It does it only by verifying the pre-established conclusions respecting the laws of molecular combination; or by serving further to explain them. That is to say, these syntheses, considered on their scientific side, have simply the purpose of forwarding the analysis of the laws of chemical combination.
9
This must not be supposed to mean chemically-produced forces. The molecular motion here referred to as dissipated in radiations, is the equivalent of that sensible motion lost during the integration of the mass of molecules, consequent on their mutual gravitation.
10
Embracing the interpretation of such phenomena as the solar spots, the faculæ and the coronal flames.
11
Want of space prevents anything beyond the briefest indication of these subdivisions.
12
Perhaps some will say that such incidental phenomena as those of the heat and light evolved during chemical changes, are to be included among chemical phenomena. I think, however, the physicist will hold that all phenomena of re-distributed molecular motion, no matter how arising, come within the range of Physics. But whatever difficulty there may be in drawing the line between Physics and Chemistry (and, as I have incidentally pointed out in The Principles of Psychology , § 55, the two are closely linked by the phenomena of allotropy and isomerism), applies equally to the Comtean classification, or to any other. And I may further point out that no obstacle hence arises to the classification I am defending. Physics and Chemistry being both grouped by me as Abstract-Concrete Sciences, no difficulty in satisfactorily dividing them in the least affects the satisfactoriness of the division of the great group to which they both belong, from the other two great groups.
13
It may be said that the mingling of problems and theorems in Euclid is not quite consistent with this statement; and it is true that we have, in this mingling, a trace of the earlier form of the science. But it is to be remarked that these problems are all purely abstract, and, further, that each of them admits of being expressed as a theorem.
14
M. Comte’s “Exposition” I read in the original in 1852; and in two or three other places have referred to the original to get his exact words. The Inorganic Physics, and the first chapter of the Biology, I read in Miss Martineau’s condensed translation, when it appeared. The rest of M. Comte’s views I know only through Mr. Lewes’s outline, and through incidental references.
15
In his work, Auguste Comte et la Philosophie Positive (1863), M. Littré defending the Comtean classification of the sciences from the criticism I made upon it in the “Genesis of Science,” deals with me wholly as an antagonist. The chapter he devotes to his reply, opens by placing me in direct opposition to the English adherents of Comte, named in the preceding chapter.
16
I believed at the time, and have never doubted until now, that the choice of this title was absolutely independent of its previous use by M. Comte. While writing these pages, I have found reason to think the contrary. On referring to Social Statics , to see what were my views of social evolution in 1850, when M. Comte was to me but a name, I met with the following sentence: – “Social philosophy may be aptly divided (as political economy has been) into statics and dynamics” (ch. xxx. § 1). This I remembered to be a reference to a division which I had seen in the Political Economy of Mr. Mill. But why had I not mentioned Mr. Mill’s name? On referring to the first edition of his work, I found, at the opening of Book iv., this sentence: – “The three preceding parts include as detailed a view as the limits of this treatise permit, of what, by a happy generalization of a mathematical phrase, has been called the Statics of the subject.” Here was the solution of the question. The division had not been made by Mr. Mill, but by some writer (on Political Economy I supposed) who was not named by him; and whom I did not know. It is now manifest, however, that while I supposed I was giving a more extended use to this division, I was but returning to the original use which Mr. Mill had limited to his special topic. Another thing is, I think, tolerably manifest. As I evidently wished to point out my obligation to some unknown political economist, whose division I thought I was extending, I should have named him had I known who he was. And in that case should not have put this extension of the division as though it were new.
17
Let me add that the conception developed in Social Statics , dates back to a series of letters on the “Proper Sphere of Government,” published in the Nonconformist newspaper in the latter half of 1842, and republished as a pamphlet in 1843. In these letters will be found, along with many crude ideas, the same belief in the conformity of social phenomena to unvariable laws; the same belief in human progression as determined by such laws; the same belief in the moral modification of men as caused by social discipline; the same belief in the tendency of social arrangements “of themselves to assume a condition of stable equilibrium;” the same repudiation of state-control over various departments of social life; the same limitation of state-action to the maintenance of equitable relations among citizens. The writing of Social Statics arose from a dissatisfaction with the basis on which the doctrines set forth in those letters were placed: the second half of that work is an elaboration of these doctrines; and the first half a statement of the principles from which they are deducible.
18
Published many years since in America, this statement was republished in England eight years since. See Athenæum for July 22nd, 1882.
19
Though conchoidal fracture may not be conclusive proof of colloidality, yet colloidal substances hard enough for fracture always display it. Respecting roll-sulphur I may say that though in a few days after it is made, it changes from its original state to a state in which it consists of minute crystals of another kind irregularly massed, yet there is reason for suspecting that these have a matrix of amorphous sulphur. I learn from Dr. Frankland that, when sublimed, sulphur aggregates partly into minute crystals and partly into an amorphous powder distinguished by insolubility.
20
Principles of Psychology , Second Edition, § 425, note.
21
Le Sentiment Religieux , par A. Grotz. Paris, J. Cherbuliez, 1870.
22