The Press.
London, England, 1856-09-20 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

new wires arose, one for every station further on, a corn
plete and perfectly Ldependetit connectimi could be kept
up between any two stations along the line.
Of the two distinct sets of nerves Mr. Bain
gives au intelligible description :

We have remarked of the nerves that they convey
influence for the two distinct ends of causing action and
causing feeling. For action, the influence must proceed
outwards from the centres to the active organs ; a stimulus
from the brain or spinal cord has to be transmitted to the
limbs, trunk, head, eyes, mouth, voice, or other parts that
are to be set in motion. For feeling, the influence must
pass inwards. In a sensation of hearing, for example, an
impression male on the sensitive surface of the ear is
conveyed by the nerve of hearing towards the cerebral
centres. Now, it is found that different sets of nerves are
employed for those two purposes; one class being exelu•
sively devoted to the outward transmission of stimulants
to action or movement, while the other class is equally
confined to the office of conveying influence centrewar ls,
for the ends of sensation or feeling. The first of these
two classes is that named efferent (out-carrying) nerves,
the second comprises the qfferent (in-carrying) nerves. In
every individual fibre it would appear that the influence
always follows one direction. No single nerve can combine
both functions.

It is further known, since the discovery of Sir Charles
Bell, that one of the two roots of the spinal nerves is
entirely composed of nerves conveying the outward
stimulus; these are, therefore, purely nerves of motion,
" motor nerves." The other root c'insists of fibres trans-
mitting influence from the various parts of the body in•
wards to the centres; these are called the sentient nerves.
(They are not all sentient in the full sense of the word, as
will be afterwards explained.) The anterior roots are the
motor nerves ; the posterior roots are the in•carrying or
afferent nerves.

This division of sentient and of motor power,
so deafly established in the nervous system,
should, in our opinion, form the basis of
mental philosophy. From the intimate con-
nection of these systems of nerves, it would
seem highly probable that the sentient class
cannot be acted on without communicating
some impulse to the motor class. This seems
to be the view of Mr. Bain :
Oar present insight enables us to say with great proba-
bility, no currents, no mind. The transmission of influence
along the nerve fibres rim place to place, seems the very
essence of cerebral action. 'l'h's transmission, moceover,
must not be confined within the limits of the brain ; not
only could no action he kept up and no sensation received
by the brain alone, but it is &HMO if even thou.tht, re•
miniacence, or the emotions of the past and absent, could
he sustained without the more distant communications
between the brain and the rest of the body—the organs of
sense and of movement. It is trite that between the
separate oon volutions of the brain, between one hemisphere
and another, between the convoluted hemispheres and the
corpora striate, thalami optici, corpora gnadrigemina,
cerebellum, medulla oblongata, and spinal cord, influence
might be imagined to pass and repass without flowing into
the active extremities or to the five senses, and might thus
constitute an isolated cerebral life : but it is in the highest
degree improbable that such isolation does or can exist.
Nervous influence, rising in great part in sensation, comes
at last to action ; short of this nothing is done, no end
served. However feeble the currents may be, their natural
course is towards the organs accustomed to their sway.
The reader will notice the opposition between
the conclusion here arrived at, and the posi-
tion assumed by Mr. Bain at the commence-
ment of his book, that intellect may exist in-
dependently of either sensation (the result of
sentient nerves) or volition (the result of
motor nerves.)

Following the chapter on the nervous sys-
tem (one of the most valuable in the book,
perhaps because not the most original) are
chapters on sensation, which appear to us
much less satisfactory. Mr. Bain commences
this part of his subject by recognising a class
of sensations proceeding from the action of
the muscles. He says:—

They have been regarded by some metaphysicians as
proceeding from a sense apart. a sixth, or mu-cular sense,
and have accordingly been enrolled under the general
head of sensations. That they are to be dealt with as a
class by themselves, as mach so as sounds or sights, the
feelings of affection, or the emotion of the ludicrous, is
now pretty well admitted on all bands.

The author, however, thinks that this class
of sensations, as he terms them, are different
from the iinpressionii of the other senses, in-
asmuch as they precede them :
In my judgment they ought not to be classed with the
sensations of the five senses, and I believe further that the
consideration of them should precede the exposition of
the senses. The grounds of this belief are such as the
following—namely, that movement precedes sensation,
and is at the outset independent of any stimulus from
without; and that action is a more intimate and in-
separable properly of our constitution than any of our
sensations, and in fact enters as a component part into
every one of the senses, giving them the character of
compounds while itself is a simple and elementary
petailroperty. These assertions require to be proved in
d.

SATURDAY,

This is sad nonsense. It shows the pen of
Mr. Bain to be often more tl,►eut than discri-
minative ; and this whole notion of a sixth
sense shows also that mental philosophy is
Waite in modern times to aberrations which
must not only retard its progress, but must
positively throw it back.

Sir Charles Bell, departing from anatomy,
the observation of facts (which was his pro-
vince). to philosophy, the reasoning from
facts (which was beyond the scope of his fine
but limited powers), supposed that there
might not only be a sixth sense (the muscu-
lar sense), but other senses also, of so fine a
quality as almost to escape our cognisance.
He thus helped, in degree, to countenance all
those fortes of mysticism and delusion which
are disgraceful to the intelligence of our day.
He instanced, if we recollect rightly, the case of
a person who in the dark might be conscious of
the presence of another person in the same
room through the impressions of some sense
not yet recognised He did not perceive that
under such conditions as he supposes the
senses of hearing and even of smelling are
almost preternaturally sharpened, and that
these organs of intelligence may receive im-
pressions so delicate and evanescent as to
convey an idea to the ►mind, without being
the objects of distinct and recognisable per-
ception. Many presentiments (as they aro
called) consist of impressions left on the
mind when the exciting cause of those he.
pressions are forgotten, or when they were so
slight and transient as never to have been
objects of distinct cognisance.

Mr. Bain conceives that the muscles are so
constituted as to be a source of activity in
themselves. His arguments are ingenious, but
they are not convincing. In insisting on the
spontaneous activity of the muscles, he
appears to us to get out of his depth. The
curse of metaphysicians (Locke himself was
not free from it) is a fluent style. Mr. Bain ,
in adopting the theory of spontaneous mus-
cular activity, confounds, we think, sponta-
neity with extreme susceptibility of organi-
sation. The often repeated question, " What
" is life ?" Mr. Bain answers by " spontaneous
" muscular activity." The fault of this, as of
previous definitions, is that it may be altogether
disputed. The question is one for physiolo-
gists rather than for mental philosophers.
There is no fact adduced by Mr. Bain to
establish spontaneity which may not be fully
accounted for on the supposition of the muscles
being so exquisitely organised, so finely
strung. as to be acted on by almost impercep-
tible influences. Some of his conclusions are
certainty erroneous.
He supposes, for example, that sleep is
broken by spontaneous inuseular action :
In wakening from sleep movement precedes sensation.
If light were essential to the movements concerned in
vision, it would be impossible to open the eyes. The act
of wakening from sleep can hardly be considered in an
other view Man as the reviving of the activity by a rush
ofnervous power to the muscles, followed by the exposure
of the senses to the influences of the outer world. I
know of no circumstance that would go to show that
sensation ii the antecedent fact, in the case when the indi-
vidual awakes of his own accord. The first symptom of
awakening that presents itself is a general commotion of
the frame, a number of spontaneous movements—the
stretching of the limbs, the opening of the eyes, the ex-
pansion of the features—to all which succeeds the revival
of the sensibility to outward things. Mysterious as the
nature of sleep is in the present state of our knowledge, we
are not preclodel from remarking so notable a circum•
stance, as the prior.ty of action to sensibility, at the
moment of wakening.

We conceive that Mr. Bain is here totally
wrong in facts and reasoning. We believe, in
direct opposition to his theory, that sensibility
precedes action on awakening from sleep.
This is notoriously the case when persons are
roused from sound slumber, for then the
mind commonly weaves an instantaneous
vision connected with the disturbing cause.
But even though it should be admitted that
the muscles are endowed with inherent ac-
tivity, this would not establish a " muscular
sense." The muscles are acted on by influ-
ences external to themselves. The sensations
of pain and pleasu►e which belong to them
can clearly be traced to physical effects, inde-
pendent of their organisation alone ; and
hence their sensations may properly be re-
ferred to the sense of touch. Without being
in soma way or other acted on, they are in a

Stn. 20, 1856.

state of equilibrium. In a healthy state of
body. their normal action produces pleasur-
able effects.
Instead of endeavouring to establish more
organs of sense than those generally received,
it should be the object of philosophical teach-
ing to show that all sensations, through what-
ever organs received, are primarily referable
to touch The eye is touched by light, the ear
by air, the nose by odours, and so on. No
sense acts without external influence—without,
in fact, being positively touched by some sub-
stance foreign to itself. This truth ought
never to be lost sight of, as it is a refutation of
all those silly superstitions,—as second Eight
a id mesmerism,—which have at different times
imposed on the credulity of mankind.
In treating of the ordinary five senses
Mr. Bain seems to have no idea of a distinction
necessary to philosophical accuracy. He con-
stantly speaks of odours, flavours, sounds, and
colours as resident in objects, and not in the
organs of sense which perceive them The
distinction is not immaterial. It is, on the
contrary, of fundamental importance, if only
as showing the immeasurable superiority of
the organs of the living body to the dead matter
of which it_takes cognisance

Philosophers do not think of saying of a
needle that a pricking pain resides in it, yet it
would be as reasonable for them so to speak
as to say that grass is green or that sugar is
sweet. The objects of which the senses take
cognisance have something in their properties.
which we imagine always to be properties of
form or substance, that excites peculiar sensa-
tions in the organs of sense they touch, and
hence our experience of colours, sounds, odours,
and the rest._ _

It is to the exquisite constitution of the
organs of sense that we must look as the main
cause of 1411 the various sensations we expe-
rience. This will be readily acknowledged as
regards the skin. Different sensations aro
experienced as it touches different objects.
The sensibility h in the exquisitely consti-
shoed skin, orrather in the nervous tissues pet -
wading it and not in the objects with which it
comes in contact.

So with the taste. Sweetness doen not reside
in sugar, nor saltness in salt. more than pain
resides in a knife. But all the objects of
which taste takes cognisance are so consti-
stuted as to affect the papilla) of the tongue in
a peculiar manner, and so to produce various
impressions of taste. Salt produces an im-
pression of saltness and sugar of sweetness,
because a difference in the form of their crystals
produces a different effect on the palate. And
this organ is so wonderfully constituted as to
receive pleasure from the forms of substances
which are good for the body, and pain from
the forms of those substances which are bad
for it.

To show the exquisite delicacy of these
organs might woi thily employ the pen of a
philosopher, and we had hoped that this was
the task Mr. Hill had proposed to himself in
the lengthened enumeration of objects which
occupies his volume. We wero disappointed
He is one of those persons whose minds do
not penetrate beyond the surface. He mainly
confines himself to such assertions as that
sugar is sweet, vinegar is sour; that bees
hum, cannon roar; that the sky is blue, and
grass green I To judge by this volume he has
merely reached the " great A little a" of the
philosophical alphabet.
- - - -

The taste is not the most susceptible of the
organs of sense, yet how fine is its perception
It can detect the bitter of strychnine, though
but one grain of the drug be mixed in a pail of
water. And what is it that it detects? Why,
the peculiar form or substance of the strychnine
thus diffused, which, acting on the fine papilla,
of the tongue, produces that sensation which
we call bitterness.

The nose is more susceptible still. A small
piece of musk has been exposed to the air for
a great number of years without any percepti-
ble diminution of its weight. Yet, during all
those years the musk has been throwing off
the fine particles which constitute its odour,
and the nose can at any time, without the
slightest doubt, detect the presence of those
particles in the air. Those particles arc sub-
stances; they act on and irritate the :nem-

THE PRESS.

brane of the nose, and produce the impression
of a musky smell. Endeavour to detect the
presence of musk in the air by any other test--
try to collect those particles—to ascertain their
presence by any finely constructed instrument—
and the immeasurable inferiority of the most
delicate works of man to the organ of smell
is at once apparent.
Of all the organs of sense the ear has ever
been our favorite object of study. There are
mysteries in the light which acts on the eye
that baffle all our researches. But air which
acts on the ear can be better understood. We
can show by actual experiment that all which
we call sound is merely pulsation of air act-
ing on the ear. We see in the ear itself, the
external shell exactly adapted to collect air,
the tympanum or drum to reflect the faintest
pulsations of the atmosphere ; and within, such
marvellous mechanism of parts, with such
contrivance to economise space, and to give
in a narrow compass amazing development to
the nervous tissue, as continually excite new
marvel and admiration. And how wonderful
the result. Each pulsation of the air, effected,
whether by the softest musical instrument, by
the human voice, or by -' Heaven's artillery,"
is faithfully caught by the ear, carried to the
brain, and there produces the impression of
sound we experience. In the Arctic regions,
where air is condensed by the cold, it is not
rare for the ear to catch words spoken at a
distance of three or four miles or more. What
is the mode of operation here? The apparatus
of the larynx effects a movement in the air ;
that movement is spread through the whole
atmosphere for miles around; aril is caught
at last by the ear with unfailing accuracy.
A cannon fired at a moderate distance
produces so violent a concussion of the
air as to make the tremulousness of the win-
dow-glass visible to the eye. Instruments
might be constructed to make such aerial con-
cussion more perceptible ; but what instru-
ment, save the ear, can be imagined which
could detect that movement in the air caused
by a musical instrument at a considerable
distance, and not only so, but could dis-
tinguish that particular form of pulsation
from thousands of others effected by different
means?

It is not philosophical to speak of colours
as resident in objects, or even to speak of light
as composed of differentooloured rays. When
light is decomposed into its component parts,
each separate part in touching the eye—
for here also there is positive contact—affects
it in a different manner, so as to give the
impression of a different colour. We forbear
even to touch on a subject so full of rich
matter for speculation. The undulating
theory of light appears to us by far the most
philosophical. Different impressions of colour
are, according to that theory, produced by the
different rapidity with which different rays of
light strike the eye. Hence brilliant scarlet
may by the rapidity with which the substance
throws light on the eye produce an impres-
sion as painful in degree as that caused by
an endeavour to look upon the summer's sun
at noon.

Mr. Bain does not always appear to appre-
ciate the significance of the facts he relates.
He gives some curious experiments which
have been made on the nervous system.
If the optic nerve be touched, a sense of
brilliant colour is produced ; if the olfac-
tory nerve, a vivid sense of smells; if the
auditory nerve, a sense of varied sounds
This alone would be sufficient to show
what no philosopher need doubt or hesi-
tate to express, and what every philosopher
should accept as the basis of his speculation
on the senses, that their peculiar impressions
reside in them, and are only exoited by phy-
sical contact with the forms of those various
substances which act upon them.
In our view, Mr. Bain's volume is valuable
for the information, systematically arranged,
which it contains. The original speculation
seems to us wanting in depth and penetration.
The volume of Mr. Hill is the first part of
what we presume is intended to be a length
ened work. We do not know what philoso-
phical purpose can be answered by the facts
he has collected.

005

Eveleen. By E. L. A. Berwick, Author of

"The Dwarf," Iso. &o. Three Vole. Loudon:
Smith, Elder, and Co.
AMOUOR there are etceteras after the name
of this clever writer, we must plead our
ignorance of the literary antecedents of the
author of " Eveleen." There is proof in the
three volumes of previous literary practise.
The pen of the authoress moves with fluent
ease, and we should think more highly of
" Eveleen" if it came before us as the work of
a mere novice. It is spiritedly written,
though it fails to interest the feelings. Our
readers, like ourselves, may have often
listened to some platform speaker who rises
with unabashed front toaddress his audience.
His presence is comely, his gesture is correct,
his sentences are smooth and sonorous, and
the speech is without any other faults than
those of not rivetting the hearers or exciting
them powerfully. " Eveleen" reminds us of
such performances. Its writer in Menai
talent is considerably above the average of
candidates for the laurels of the circulating
library ; but in novel-writing, as in singing, it
often happens that a certain indefinable charm
will give more popular effect than is achieved
by the best trained talents wanting the sponta-
neity of genius. The Piccolomini, or a Vestris,
will delight in spite of defects, or want of labo-
rious study of their parts, where better tutored
artists fail.
" Eveleen" tells her own tale In three
volinnes, and in doing so of course runs the
risk of being tedious. Autobiographic novels
are rarely successful, as they are too egotistical.
" Rob Roy " is professedly told in the first
person singular; but Francis Osbaldistnne, in
point of fact, is only a showman, exhibiting a
charming and connected series of dioramio
sketches of Scottish character. in which the
chief figures are the brilliant Die Vernon, the
bold Rob Roy, aid the unctuous Bailie Nicol
J'rvie, with magnificent Highland landscapes
in the background. Now and again we are re-
minded by the phrase, " my dear Tresham,"
that the story is related ; but from the first we
care little for the fortunes of the decorous
walking gentleman who acts as usher to the
rest of the characters in that admirable novel.
" Jane Eyre," a work of great genius, is also
a case in point to show that autebiographie
novels from female pens must be executed at
great risk of monotony. The latter portion of
that remarkable work is impel-added, and
mars the unity of the performance, while the
first portion of the story would be gladly
omitted by any reader. Women can rarely
describe with effect Wealth dio, and Miss Austen
would not have succeeded well if she had in-
troduced a character with a standing "1"
through three volumes. Some of Miss
Edgeworth's tales were told in the first
person, but they were brief; and the same
may be said of the novelettes in the Misses
Lee's " Canterbury Tales."

Another cause detracts from the effect of
" Eveleen." The scene is laid in Ireland, and
yet there is an absence of the peculiarities of
Irish life. " Eveleen " herself has none of
the qualities of an Irishwoman as we find
them traced by Miss Edgeworth, Lady
Morgan, or Mrs Hall. Mr. Cabhell °llea is
introduced as " the bad character" of the
book ; but we have long had a distant ac-
quaintance with him at the Adelphi Theatre,
where the unworthy gentleman has appeared
under every variety o► eyebrows and accents.
There is also an unpleasant stepmother, who
stalks here and there through the volumes,
with some minor characters. The sustained
smoothness of the cotikposition, and the
evidence of care in "Eveleen," are commend•
able, and the writer may at another time be
more successful in realising her own wishes.
In justice to her talents we shall select some
passages. Eveleen resides with her uncle,
who marries a second time, and Eveleen
Redgreave has consequently to deliver up the
keys to the new mistress of her uncle's house.
The second wife is thus described

In about a month after this first intimation, my uncle
was married, and Brabszon-hall gained a new mistress.
The children were not at the wedding,: our absence was
at Ilia. Patrickson's particular request, as I afterwards
heard; for she had been a belle and a beauty, and although
now, "at the turn of her life" (a delicate phrase), she had