The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals

ILLUSTRATIONS

Muscles of the Human Face. Fig 1-2

Muscles of the Human Face. Fig 3

Small Dog Watching a Cat on A Table. Figure 4

Dog in a Hostile Frame of Mind. Fig. 5

Dog in a humble and Affectionate Frame of Mind. Fig. 6

Dog in a Hostile Frame of Mind. Fig. 7

Dog Carressing his Master. Fig. 8

Cat, Savage, and Prepared to Fight. Fig. 9

Cat in an Affectionate Frame of Mind. Fig. 10

Sound Producing Quills from Tail of a Porcupine. Fig. 11

Hen Driving Away a Dog from Her Chickens. Fig. 12

Swan Driving Away an Intruder. Fig 13

Head of Snarling Dog. Fig 14

Cat Terrified at a Dog. Fig.15

Cynopithecus Niger, Pleased by Being Caressed. Fig.17

Chimpanzee Disappointed and Sulky. Fig. 18

Screaming Infants. Plate I.

Obliquity of the Eyebrows. Plate II

Moderate Laughter and Smiling. Plate III

Ill-temper. Plate IV

Anger and Indignation. Plate VI

Scorn and Disdain. Plate V

Gestures of the Body. Plate VII

Photograph of an Insane Woman. Fig. 19

Terror. Fig. 20

Horror and Agony. Fig. 21

_N.B_.—Several of the figures in these seven Heliotype Plates have been

reproduced from photographs, instead of from the original negatives;

and they are in consequence somewhat indistinct. Nevertheless they are

faithful copies, and are much superior for my purpose to any drawing,

however carefully executed.

DETAILED CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION

CHAP. I—GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EXPRESSION.

The three chief principles stated—The first principle—Serviceable

actions become habitual in association with certain states of the mind,

and are performed whether or not of service in each particular case—The

force of habit—Inheritance—Associated habitual movements in man—Reflex

actions—Passage of habits into reflex actions—Associated habitual

movements in the lower animals—Concluding remarks

CHAP. II—GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EXPRESSION.—_continued_.

The Principle of Antithesis—Instances in the dog and cat—Origin of the

principle—Conventional signs—The principle of antithesis has not arisen

from opposite actions being consciously performed under opposite

impulses

CHAP. III—GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EXPRESSION.—_concluded_.

The principle of the direct action of the excited nervous system on the

body, independently of the will and in part of habit—Change of colour

in the hair—Trembling of the muscles—Modified

secretions—Perspiration—Expression of extreme pain—Of rage, great joy,

and terror—Contrast between the emotions which cause and do not cause

expressive movements—Exciting and depressing states of the mind—Summary

CHAP. IV—MEANS OF EXPRESSION. IN ANIMALS.

The emission of sounds—Vocal sounds—Sounds otherwise produced—Erection

of the dermal appendages, hairs, feathers, &c., under the emotions of

anger and terror—The drawing back of the ears as a preparation for

fighting, and as an expression of anger—Erection of the ears and

raising the head, a sign of attention

CHAP. V.—SPECIAL EXPRESSIONS OF ANIMALS.

The Dog, various expressive movements of—Cats—Horses—Ruminants—Monkeys,

their expression of joy and affection—Of pain—Anger Astonishment and

Terror

CHAP. VI.—SPECIAL EXPRESSIONS OF MAN: SUFFERING AND WEEPING.

The screaming and weeping of infants—Form of features—Age at which

weeping commences—The effects of habitual restraint on

weeping—Sobbing—Cause of the contraction of the muscles round the eyes

during screaming—Cause of the secretion of tears

CHAP. VII.—LOW SPIRITS, ANXIETY, GRIEF, DEJECTION, DESPAIR.

General effect of grief on the system—Obliquity of the eyebrows under

suffering—On the cause of the obliquity of the eyebrows—On the

depression of the corners of the mouth

CHAP. VIII.—JOY, HIGH SPIRITS, LOVE, TENDER FEELINGS, DEVOTION.

Laughter primarily the expression of joy—Ludicrous ideas—Movements of

the features during laughter—Nature of the sound produced—The secretion

of tears during loud laughter—Gradation from loud laughter to gentle

smiling—High spirits—The expression of love—Tender feelings—Devotion

CHAP. IX.—REFLECTION—MEDITATION—ILL—TEMPER—SULKINESS DETERMINATION.

The act of frowning—Reflection with an effort or with the perception of

something difficult or disagreeable—Abstracted

meditation—Ill-temper—Moroseness—Obstinacy—Sulkiness and

pouting—Decision or determination—The firm closure of the mouth

CHAP. X.—HATRED AND ANGER.

Hatred—Rage, effects of on the system—Uncovering of the teeth—Rage in

the insane—Anger and indignation—As expressed by the various races of

man—Sneering and defiance—The uncovering of the canine teeth on one

side of the face

CHAP. XI.—DISDAIN—CONTEMPT—DISGUST—GUILT—PRIDE,

ETC.—HELPLESSNESS—PATIENCE—AFFIRMATION AND NEGATION.

Contempt, scorn and disdain, variously expressed—Derisive

Smile—Gestures expressive of contempt—Disgust—Guilt, deceit, pride,

etc.—Helplessness or impotence—Patience—Obstinacy—Shrugging the

shoulders common to most of the races of man—Signs of affirmation and

negation

CHAP. XII.—SURPRISE—ASTONISHMENT—FEAR—HORROR.

Surprise, astonishment—Elevation of the eyebrows—Opening the

mouth—Protrusion of the lips—Gestures accompanying surprise—Admiration

Fear—Terror—Erection of the hair—Contraction of the platysma

muscle—Dilatation of the pupils—horror—Conclusion.

CHAP. XIII.—SELF-ATTENTION—SHAME—SHYNESS—MODESTY: BLUSHING.

Nature of a blush—Inheritance—The parts of the body most

affected—Blushing in the various races of man—Accompanying

gestures—Confusion of mind—Causes of blushing—Self-attention, the

fundamental element—Shyness—Shame, from broken moral laws and

conventional rules—Modesty—Theory of blushing—Recapitulation

CHAP. XIV.—CONCLUDING REMARKS AND SUMMARY.

The three leading principles which have determined the chief movements

of expression—Their inheritance—On the part which the will and

intention have played in the acquirement of various expressions—The

instinctive recognition of expression—The bearing of our subject on the

specific unity of the races of man—On the successive acquirement of

various expressions by the progenitors of man—The importance of

expression—Conclusion

ON THE EXPRESSION OF THE EMOTIONS IN MAN AND ANIMALS.

INTRODUCTION.

Many works have been written on Expression, but a greater number on

Physiognomy,—that is, on the recognition of character through the study

of the permanent form of the features. With this latter subject I am

not here concerned. The older treatises,[1] which I have consulted,

have been of little or no service to me. The famous ‘Conférences’[2] of

the painter Le Brun, published in 1667, is the best known ancient work,

and contains some good remarks. Another somewhat old essay, namely, the

‘Discours,’ delivered 1774-1782, by the well-known Dutch anatomist

Camper,[3] can hardly be considered as having made any marked advance

in the subject. The following works, on the contrary, deserve the

fullest consideration.

Sir Charles Bell, so illustrious for his discoveries in physiology,

published in 1806 the first edition, and in the third edition of his

‘Anatomy and Philosophy of Expression.’[4] He may with justice be said,

not only to have laid the foundations of the subject as a branch of

science, but to have built up a noble structure. His work is in every

way deeply interesting; it includes graphic descriptions of the various

emotions, and is admirably illustrated. It is generally admitted that

his service consists chiefly in having shown the intimate relation

which exists between the movements of expression and those of

respiration. One of the most important points, small as it may at first

appear, is that the muscles round the eyes are involuntarily contracted

during violent expiratory efforts, in order to protect these delicate

organs from the pressure of the blood. This fact, which has been fully

investigated for me with the greatest kindness by Professors Donders of

Utrecht, throws, as we shall hereafter see, a flood of light on several

of the most important expressions of the human countenance. The merits

of Sir C. Bell’s work have been undervalued or quite ignored by several

foreign writers, but have been fully admitted by some, for instance by

M. Lemoine,[5] who with great justice says:—“Le livre de Ch. Bell

devrait être médité par quiconque essaye de faire parler le visage de

l’homme, par les philosophes aussi bien que par les artistes, car, sous

une apparence plus légère et sous le prétexte de l’esthétique, c’est un

des plus beaux monuments de la science des rapports du physique et du

moral.”

From reasons which will presently be assigned, Sir C. Bell did not

attempt to follow out his views as far as they might have been carried.

He does not try to explain why different muscles are brought into

action under different emotions; why, for instance, the inner ends of

the eyebrows are raised, and the corners of the mouth depressed, by a

person suffering from grief or anxiety.

In 1807 M. Moreau edited an edition of Lavater on Physiognomy,[6] in

which he incorporated several of his own essays, containing excellent

descriptions of the movements of the facial muscles, together with many

valuable remarks. He throws, however, very little light on the

philosophy of the subject. For instance, M. Moreau, in speaking of the

act of frowning, that is, of the contraction of the muscle called by

French writers the _soucilier_ (_corrigator supercilii_), remarks with

truth:—“Cette action des sourciliers est un des symptômes les plus

tranchés de l’expression des affections pénibles ou concentrées.” He

then adds that these muscles, from their attachment and position, are

fitted “à resserrer, à concentrer les principaux traits de la _face_,

comme il convient dans toutes ces passions vraiment oppressives ou

profondes, dans ces affections dont le sentiment semble porter

l’organisation à revenir sur elle-même, à se contracter et à

_s’amoindrir_, comme pour offrir moins de prise et de surface à des

impressions redoutables ou importunes.” He who thinks that remarks of

this kind throw any light on the meaning or origin of the different

expressions, takes a very different view of the subject to what I do.

In the above passage there is but a slight, if any, advance in the

philosophy of the subject, beyond that reached by the painter Le Brun,

who, in 1667, in describing the expression of fright, says:—“Le sourcil

qui est abaissé d’un côté et élevé de l’autre, fait voir que la partie

élevée semble le vouloir joindre au cerveau pour le garantir du mal que

l’âme aperçoit, et le côté qui est abaissé et qui paraît enflé,—nous

fait trouver dans cet état par les esprits qui viennent du cerveau en

abondance, comme polir couvrir l’âme et la défendre du mal qu’elle

craint; la bouche fort ouverte fait voir le saisissement du cœur, par

le sang qui se retire vers lui, ce qui l’oblige, voulant respirer, à

faire un effort qui est cause que la bouche s’ouvre extrêmement, et

qui, lorsqu’il passe par les organes de la voix, forme un son qui n’est

point articulé; que si les muscles et les veines paraissent enflés, ce

n’est que par les esprits que le cerveau envoie en ces parties-là.” I

have thought the foregoing sentences worth quoting, as specimens of the

surprising nonsense which has been written on the subject.

‘The Physiology or Mechanism of Blushing,’ by Dr. Burgess, appeared in

1839, and to this work I shall frequently refer in my thirteenth

Chapter.

In 1862 Dr. Duchenne published two editions, in folio and octavo, of

his ‘Mécanisme de la Physionomie Humaine,’ in which he analyses by

means of electricity, and illustrates by magnificent photographs, the

movements of the facial muscles. He has generously permitted me to copy

as many of his photographs as I desired. His works have been spoken

lightly of, or quite passed over, by some of his countrymen. It is

possible that Dr. Duchenne may have exaggerated the importance of the

contraction of single muscles in giving expression; for, owing to the

intimate manner in which the muscles are connected, as may be seen in

Henle’s anatomical drawings[7]—the best I believe ever published it is

difficult to believe in their separate action. Nevertheless, it is

manifest that Dr. Duchenne clearly apprehended this and other sources

of error, and as it is known that he was eminently successful in

elucidating the physiology of the muscles of the hand by the aid of

electricity, it is probable that he is generally in the right about the

muscles of the face. In my opinion, Dr. Duchenne has greatly advanced

the subject by his treatment of it. No one has more carefully studied

the contraction of each separate muscle, and the consequent furrows

produced on the skin. He has also, and this is a very important

service, shown which muscles are least under the separate control of

the will. He enters very little into theoretical considerations, and

seldom attempts to explain why certain muscles and not others contract

under the influence of certain emotions.

A distinguished French anatomist, Pierre Gratiolet, gave a course of

lectures on Expression at the Sorbonne, and his notes were published

(1865) after his death, under the title of ‘De la Physionomie et des

Mouvements d’Expression.’ This is a very interesting work, full of

valuable observations. His theory is rather complex, and, as far as it

can be given in a single sentence (p. 65), is as follows:—“Il résulte,

de tous les faits que j’ai rappelés, que les sens, l’imagination et la

pensée elle-même, si élevée, si abstraite qu’on la suppose, ne peuvent

s’exercer sans éveiller un sentiment corrélatif, et que ce sentiment se

traduit directement, sympathiquement, symboliquement ou

métaphoriquement, dans toutes les sphères des organs extérieurs, qui la

racontent tous, suivant leur mode d’action propre, comme si chacun

d’eux avait été directement affecté.”

Gratiolet appears to overlook inherited habit, and even to some extent

habit in the individual; and therefore he fails, as it seems to me, to

give the right explanation, or any explanation at all, of many gestures

and expressions. As an illustration of what he calls symbolic

movements, I will quote his remarks (p. 37), taken from M. Chevreul, on

a man playing at billiards. “Si une bille dévie légèrement de la

direction que le joueur prétend lui imprimer, ne l’avez-vous pas vu

cent fois la pousser du regard, de la tête et même des épaules, comme

si ces mouvements, purement symboliques, pouvaient rectifier son

trajet? Des mouvements non moins significatifs se produisent quand la

bille manque d’une impulsion suffisante. Et cliez les joueurs novices,

ils sont quelquefois accusés au point d’éveiller le sourire sur les

lèvres des spectateurs.” Such movements, as it appeirs to me, may be

attributed simply to habit. As often as a man has wished to move an

object to one side, he has always pushed it to that side when forwards,

he has pushed it forwards; and if he has wished to arrest it, he has

pulled backwards. Therefore, when a man sees his ball travelling in a

wrong direction, and he intensely wishes it to go in another direction,

he cannot avoid, from long habit, unconsciously performing movements

which in other cases he has found effectual.

As an instance of sympathetic movements Gratiolet gives (p. 212) the

following case:—“un jeune chien à oreilles droites, auquel son maître

présente de loin quelque viande appétissante, fixe avec ardeur ses yeux

sur cet objet dont il suit tous les mouvements, et pendant que les yeux

regardent, les deux oreilles se portent en avant comme si cet objet

pouvait être entendu.” Here, instead of speaking of sympathy between

the ears and eyes, it appears to me more simple to believe, that as

dogs during many generations have, whilst intently looking at any

object, pricked their ears in order to perceive any sound; and

conversely have looked intently in the direction of a sound to which

they may have listened, the movements of these organs have become

firmly associated together through long-continued habit.

Dr. Piderit published in 1859 an essay on Expression, which I have not

seen, but in which, as he states, he forestalled Gratiolet in many of

his views. In 1867 he published his ‘Wissenschaftliches System der

Mimik und Physiognomik.’ It is hardly possible to give in a few

sentences a fair notion of his views; perhaps the two following

sentences will tell as much as can be briefly told: “the muscular

movements of expression are in part related to imaginary objects, and

in part to imaginary sensorial impressions. In this proposition lies

the key to the comprehension of all expressive muscular movements.” (s.

25) Again, “Expressive movements manifest themselves chiefly in the

numerous and mobile muscles of the face, partly because the nerves by

which they are set into motion originate in the most immediate vicinity

of the mind-organ, but partly also because these muscles serve to

support the organs of sense.” (s. 26.) If Dr. Piderit had studied Sir

C. Bell’s work, he would probably not have said (s. 101) that violent

laughter causes a frown from partaking of the nature of pain; or that

with infants (s. 103) the tears irritate the eyes, and thus excite the

contraction of the surrounding in muscles. Many good remarks are

scattered throughout this volume, to which I shall hereafter refer.

Short discussions on Expression may be found in various works, which

need not here be particularised. Mr. Bain, however, in two of his works

has treated the subject at some length. He says,[8] “I look upon the

expression so-called as part and parcel of the feeling. I believe it to

be a general law of the mind that along with the fact of inward feeling

or consciousness, there is a diffusive action or excitement over the

bodily members.” In another place he adds, “A very considerable number

of the facts may be brought under the following principle: namely, that

states of pleasure are connected with an increase, and states of pain

with an abatement, of some, or all, of the vital functions.” But the

above law of the diffusive action of feelings seems too general to

throw much light on special expressions.

Mr. Herbert Spencer, in treating of the Feelings in his ‘Principles of

Psychology’ (1855), makes the following remarks:—“Fear, when strong,

expresses itself in cries, in efforts to hide or escape, in

palpitations and tremblings; and these are just the manifestations that

would accompany an actual experience of the evil feared. The

destructive passions are shown in a general tension of the muscular

system, in gnashing of the teeth and protrusion of the claws, in

dilated eyes and nostrils in growls; and these are weaker forms of the

actions that accompany the killing of prey.” Here we have, as I

believe, the true theory of a large number of expressions; but the

chief interest and difficulty of the subject lies in following out the

wonderfully complex results. I infer that some one (but who he is I

have not been able to ascertain) formerly advanced a nearly similar

view, for Sir C. Bell says,[9] “It has been maintained that what are

called the external signs of passion, are only the concomitants of

those voluntary movements which the structure renders necessary.” Mr.

Spencer has also published[10] a valuable essay on the physiology of

Laughter, in which he insists on “the general law that feeling passing

a certain pitch, habitually vents itself in bodily action,” and that

“an overflow of nerve-force undirected by any motive, will manifestly

take first the most habitual routes; and if these do not suffice, will

next overflow into the less habitual ones.” This law I believe to be of

the highest importance in throwing light on our subject.’[11]

All the authors who have written on Expression, with the exception of

Mr. Spencer—the great expounder of the principle of Evolution—appear to

have been firmly convinced that species, man of course included, came

into existence in their present condition. Sir C. Bell, being thus

convinced, maintains that many of our facial muscles are “purely

instrumental in expression;” or are “a special provision” for this sole

object.[12] But the simple fact that the anthropoid apes possess the

same facial muscles as we do,[13] renders it very improbable that these

muscles in our case serve exclusively for expression; for no one, I

presume, would be inclined to admit that monkeys have been endowed with

special muscles solely for exhibiting their hideous grimaces. Distinct

uses, independently of expression, can indeed be assigned with much

probability for almost all the facial muscles.

Sir C. Bell evidently wished to draw as broad a distinction as possible

between man and the lower animals; and he consequently asserts that

with “the lower creatures there is no expression but what may be

referred, more or less plainly, to their acts of volition or necessary

instincts.” He further maintains that their faces “seem chiefly capable

of expressing rage and fear.”[14] But man himself cannot express love

and humility by external signs, so plainly as does a dog, when with

drooping ears, hanging lips, flexuous body, and wagging tail, he meets

his beloved master. Nor can these movements in the dog be explained by

acts of volition or necessary instincts, any more than the beaming eyes

and smiling cheeks of a man when he meets an old friend. If Sir C. Bell

had been questioned about the expression of affection in the dog, he

would no doubt have answered that this animal had been created with

special instincts, adapting him for association with man, and that all

further enquiry on the subject was superfluous.

Although Gratiolet emphatically denies[15] that any muscle has been

developed solely for the sake of expression, he seems never to have

reflected on the principle of evolution. He apparently looks at each

species as a separate creation. So it is with the other writers on

Expression. For instance, Dr. Duchenne, after speaking of the movements

of the limbs, refers to those which give expression to the face, and

remarks:[16] “Le créateur n’a donc pas eu à se préoccuper ici des

besoins de la mécanique; il a pu, selon sa sagesse, ou—que l’on me

pardonne cette manière de parler—par une divine fantaisie, mettre en

action tel ou tel muscle, un seul ou plusieurs muscles à la fois,

lorsqu’il a voulu que les signes caractéristiques des passions, même

les plus fugaces, fussent écrits passagèrement sur la face de l’homme.

Ce langage de la physionomie une fois créé, il lui a suffi, pour le

rendre universel et immuable, de donner à tout être humain la faculté

instinctive d’exprimer toujours ses sendments par la contraction des

mêmes muscles.”

Many writers consider the whole subject of Expression as inexplicable.

Thus the illustrious physiologist Müller, says,[17] “The completely

different expression of the features in different passions shows that,

according to the kind of feeling excited, entirely different groups of

the fibres of the facial nerve are acted on. Of the cause of this we

are quite ignorant.”

No doubt as long as man and all other animals are viewed as independent

creations, an effectual stop is put to our natural desire to

investigate as far as possible the causes of Expression. By this

doctrine, anything and everything can be equally well explained; and it

has proved as pernicious with respect to Expression as to every other

branch of natural history. With mankind some expressions, such as the

bristling of the hair under the influence of extreme terror, or the

uncovering of the teeth under that of furious rage, can hardly be

understood, except on the belief that man once existed in a much lower

and animal-like condition. The community of certain expressions in

distinct though allied species, as in the movements of the same facial

muscles during laughter by man and by various monkeys, is rendered

somewhat more intelligible, if we believe in their descent from a

common progenitor. He who admits on general grounds that the structure

and habits of all animals have been gradually evolved, will look at the

whole subject of Expression in a new and interesting light.

The study of Expression is difficult, owing to the movements being

often extremely slight, and of a fleeting nature. A difference may be

clearly perceived, and yet it may be impossible, at least I have found

it so, to state in what the difference consists. When we witness any

deep emotion, our sympathy is so strongly excited, that close

observation is forgotten or rendered almost impossible; of which fact I

have had many curious proofs. Our imagination is another and still more

serious source of error; for if from the nature of the circumstances we

expect to see any expression, we readily imagine its presence.

Notwithstanding Dr. Duchenne’s great experience, he for a long time

fancied, as he states, that several muscles contracted under certain

emotions, whereas he ultimately convinced himself that the movement was

confined to a single muscle.

In order to acquire as good a foundation as possible, and to ascertain,

independently of common opinion, how far particular movements of the

features and gestures are really expressive of certain states of the

mind, I have found the following means the most serviceable. In the

first place, to observe infants; for they exhibit many emotions, as Sir

C. Bell remarks, “with extraordinary force;” whereas, in after life,

some of our expressions “cease to have the pure and simple source from

which they spring in infancy.”[18]

In the second place, it occurred to me that the insane ought to be

studied, as they are liable to the strongest passions, and give

uncontrolled vent to them. I had, myself, no opportunity of doing this,

so I applied to Dr. Maudsley and received from him an introduction to

Dr. J. Crichton Browne, who has charge of an immense asylum near

Wakefield, and who, as I found, had already attended to the subject.

This excellent observer has with unwearied kindness sent me copious

notes and descriptions, with valuable suggestions on many points; and I

can hardly over-estimate the value of his assistance. I owe also, to

the kindness of Mr. Patrick Nicol, of the Sussex Lunatic Asylum,

interesting statements on two or three points.

Thirdly Dr. Duchenne galvanized, as we have already seen, certain

muscles in the face of an old man, whose skin was little sensitive, and

thus produced various expressions which were photographed on a large

scale. It fortunately occurred to me to show several of the best

plates, without a word of explanation, to above twenty educated persons

of various ages and both sexes, asking them, in each case, by what

emotion or feeling the old man was supposed to be agitated; and I

recorded their answers in the words which they used. Several of the

expressions were instantly recognised by almost everyone, though

described in not exactly the same terms; and these may, I think, be

relied on as truthful, and will hereafter be specified. On the other

hand, the most widely different judgments were pronounced in regard to

some of them. This exhibition was of use in another way, by convincing

me how easily we may be misguided by our imagination; for when I first

looked through Dr. Duchenne’s photographs, reading at the same time the

text, and thus learning what was intended, I was struck with admiration

at the truthfulness of all, with only a few exceptions. Nevertheless,

if I had examined them without any explanation, no doubt I should have

been as much perplexed, in some cases, as other persons have been.

Fourthly, I had hoped to derive much aid from the great masters in

painting and sculpture, who are such close observers. Accordingly, I

have looked at photographs and engravings of many well-known works;

but, with a few exceptions, have not thus profited. The reason no doubt

is, that in works of art, beauty is the chief object; and strongly

contracted facial muscles destroy beauty.[19] The story of the

composition is generally told with wonderful force and truth by

skilfully given accessories.

Fifthly, it seemed to me highly important to ascertain whether the same

expressions and gestures prevail, as has often been asserted without

much evidence, with all the races of mankind, especially with those who

have associated but little with Europeans. Whenever the same movements

of the features or body express the same emotions in several distinct

races of man, we may infer with much probability, that such expressions

are true ones,—that is, are innate or instinctive. Conventional

expressions or gestures, acquired by the individual during early life,

would probably have differed in the different races, in the same manner

as do their languages. Accordingly I circulated, early in the year

1867, the following printed queries with a request, which has been

fully responded to, that actual observations, and not memory, might be

trusted. These queries were written after a considerable interval of

time, during which my attention had been otherwise directed, and I can

now see that they might have been greatly improved. To some of the

later copies, I appended, in manuscript, a few additional remarks:—

(1.) Is astonishment expressed by the eyes and mouth being opened wide,

and by the eyebrows being raised?

(2.) Does shame excite a blush when the colour of the skin allows it to

be visible? and especially how low down the body does the blush extend?

(3.) When a man is indignant or defiant does he frown, hold his body

and head erect, square his shoulders and clench his fists?

(4) When considering deeply on any subject, or trying to understand any

puzzle, does he frown, or wrinkle the skin beneath the lower eyelids?

(5.) When in low spirits, are the corners of the mouth depressed, and

the inner corner of the eyebrows raised by that muscle which the French

call the “Grief muscle”? The eyebrow in this state becomes slightly

oblique, with a little swelling at the Inner end; and the forehead is

transversely wrinkled in the middle part, but not across the whole

breadth, as when the eyebrows are raised in surprise.

(6.) When in good spirits do the eyes sparkle, with the skin a little

wrinkled round and under them, and with the mouth a little drawn back

at the corners?

(7.) When a man sneers or snarls at another, is the corner of the upper

lip over the canine or eye tooth raised on the side facing the man whom

he addresses?

(8) Can a dogged or obstinate expression be recognized, which is

chiefly shown by the mouth being firmly closed, a lowering brow and a

slight frown?

(9.) Is contempt expressed by a slight protrusion of the lips and by

turning up the nose, and with a slight expiration?

(10) Is disgust shown by the lower lip being turned down, the upper lip

slightly raised, with a sudden expiration, something like incipient

vomiting, or like something spit out of the mouth?

(11.) Is extreme fear expressed in the same general manner as with

Europeans?

(12.) Is laughter ever carried to such an extreme as to bring tears

into the eyes?

(13.) When a man wishes to show that he cannot prevent something being

done, or cannot himself do something, does he shrug his shoulders, turn

inwards his elbows, extend outwards his hands and open the palms; with

the eyebrows raised?

(14) Do the children when sulky, pout or greatly protrude the lips?

(15.) Can guilty, or sly, or jealous expressions be recognized? though

I know not how these can be defined.

(16.) Is the head nodded vertically in affirmation, and shaken

laterally in negation?

Observations on natives who have had little communication with

Europeans would be of course the most valuable, though those made on

any natives would be of much interest to me. General remarks on

expression are of comparatively little value; and memory is so

deceptive that I earnestly beg it may not be trusted. A definite

description of the countenance under any emotion or frame of mind, with

a statement of the circumstances under which it occurred, would possess

much value.

To these queries I have received thirty-six answers from different

observers, several of them missionaries or protectors of the

aborigines, to all of whom I am deeply indebted for the great trouble

which they have taken, and for the valuable aid thus received. I will

specify their names, &c., towards the close of this chapter, so as not

to interrupt my present remarks. The answers relate to several of the

most distinct and savage races of man. In many instances, the

circumstances have been recorded under which each expression was

observed, and the expression itself described. In such cases, much

confidence may be placed in the answers. When the answers have been

simply yes or no, I have always received them with caution. It follows,

from the information thus acquired, that the same state of mind is

expressed throughout the world with remarkable uniformity; and this

fact is in itself interesting as evidence of the close similarity in

bodily structure and mental disposition of all the races, of mankind.

Sixthly, and lastly, I have attended as closely as I could, to the

expression of the several passions in some of the commoner animals; and

this I believe to be of paramount importance, not of course for

deciding how far in man certain expressions are characteristic of

certain states of mind, but as affording the safest basis for

generalisation on the causes, or origin, of the various movements of

Expression. In observing animals, we are not so likely to be biassed by

our imagination; and we may feel safe that their expressions are not

conventional.

From the reasons above assigned, namely, the fleeting nature of some

expressions (the changes in the features being often extremely slight);

our sympathy being easily aroused when we behold any strong emotion,

and our attention thus distracted; our imagination deceiving us, from

knowing in a vague manner what to expect, though certainly few of us

know what the exact changes in the countenance are; and lastly, even

our long familiarity with the subject,—from all these causes combined,

the observation of Expression is by no means easy, as many persons,

whom I have asked to observe certain points, have soon discovered.

Hence it is difficult to determine, with certainty, what are the

movements of the features and of the body, which commonly characterize

certain states of the mind. Nevertheless, some of the doubts and

difficulties have, as I hope, been cleared away by the observation of

infants,—of the insane,—of the different races of man,—of works of

art,—and lastly, of the facial muscles under the action of galvanism,

as effected by Dr. Duchenne.

But there remains the much greater difficulty of understanding the

cause or origin of the several expressions, and of judging whether any

theoretical explanation is trustworthy. Besides, judging as well as we

can by our reason, without the aid of any rules, which of two or more

explanations is the most satisfactory, or are quite unsatisfactory, I

see only one way of testing our conclusions. This is to observe whether

the same principle by which one expression can, as it appears, be

explained, is applicable in other allied cases; and especially, whether

the same general principles can be applied with satisfactory results,

both to man and the lower animals. This latter method, I am inclined to

think, is the most serviceable of all. The difficulty of judging of the

truth of any theoretical explanation, and of testing it by some

distinct line of investigation, is the great drawback to that interest

which the study seems well fitted to excite.

Finally, with respect to my own observations, I may state that they

were commenced in the year 1838; and from that time to the present day,

I have occasionally attended to the subject. At the above date, I was

already inclined to believe in the principle of evolution, or of the

derivation of species from other and lower forms. Consequently, when I

read Sir C. Bell’s great work, his view, that man had been created with

certain muscles specially adapted for the expression of his feelings,

struck me as unsatisfactory. It seemed probable that the habit of

expressing our feelings by certain movements, though now rendered

innate, had been in some manner gradually acquired. But to discover how

such habits had been acquired was perplexing in no small degree. The

whole subject had to be viewed under a new aspect, and each expression

demanded a rational explanation. This belief led me to attempt the

present work, however imperfectly it may have been executed.

I will now give the names of the gentlemen to whom, as I have said, I

am deeply indebted for information in regard to the expressions

exhibited by various races of man, and I will specify some of the

circumstances under which the observations were in each case made.

Owing to the great kindness and powerful influence of Mr. Wilson, of

Hayes Place, Kent, I have received from Australia no less than thirteen

sets of answers to my queries. This has been particularly fortunate, as

the Australian aborigines rank amongst the most distinct of all the

races of man. It will be seen that the observations have been chiefly

made in the south, in the outlying parts of the colony of Victoria; but

some excellent answers have been received from the north.

Mr. Dyson Lacy has given me in detail some valuable observations, made

several hundred miles in the interior of Queensland. To Mr. R. Brough

Smyth, of Melbourne, I am much indebted for observations made by

himself, and for sending me several of the following letters,

namely:—From the Rev. Mr. Hagenauer, of Lake Wellington, a missionary

in Gippsland, Victoria, who has had much experience with the natives.

From Mr. Samuel Wilson, a landowner, residing at Langerenong, Wimmera,

Victoria. From the Rev. George Taplin, superintendent of the native

Industrial Settlement at Port Macleay. From Mr. Archibald G. Lang, of

Coranderik, Victoria, a teacher at a school where aborigines, old and

young, are collected from all parts of the colony. From Mr. H. B. Lane,

of Belfast, Victoria, a police magistrate and warden, whose

observations, as I am assured, are highly trustworthy. From Mr.

Templeton Bunnett, of Echuca, whose station is on the borders of the

colony of Victoria, and who has thus been able to observe many

aborigines who have had little intercourse with white men. He compared

his observations with those made by two other gentlemen long resident

in the neighbourhood. Also from Mr. J. Bulmer, a missionary in a remote

part of Gippsland, Victoria.

I am also indebted to the distinguished botanist, Dr. Ferdinand Müller,

of Victoria, for some observations made by himself, and for sending me

others made by Mrs. Green, as well as for some of the foregoing

letters.

In regard to the Maoris of New Zealand, the Rev. J. W. Stack has

answered only a few of my queries; but the answers have been remarkably

full, clear, and distinct, with the circumstances recorded under which

the observations were made.

The Rajah Brooke has given me some information with respect to the

Dyaks of Borneo.

Respecting the Malays, I have been highly successful; for Mr. F. Geach

(to whom I was introduced by Mr. Wallace), during his residence as a

mining engineer in the interior of Malacca, observed many natives, who

had never before associated with white men. He wrote me two long

letters with admirable and detailed observations on their expression.

He likewise observed the Chinese immigrants in the Malay archipelago.

The well-known naturalist, H. M. Consul, Mr. Swinhoe, also observed for

me the Chinese in their native country; and he made inquiries from

others whom he could trust.

In India Mr. H. Erskine, whilst residing in his official capacity in

the Admednugur District in the Bombay Presidency, attended to the

expression of the inhabitants, but found much difficulty in arriving at

any safe conclusions, owing to their habitual concealment of all

emotions in the presence of Europeans. He also obtained information for

me from Mr. West, the Judge in Canara, and he consulted some

intelligent native gentlemen on certain points. In Calcutta Mr. J.

Scott, curator of the Botanic Gardens, carefully observed the various

tribes of men therein employed during a considerable period, and no one

has sent me such full and valuable details. The habit of accurate

observation, gained by his botanical studies, has been brought to bear

on our present subject. For Ceylon I am much indebted to the Rev. S. O.

Glenie for answers to some of my queries.

Turning to Africa, I have been unfortunate with respect to the negroes,

though Mr. Winwood Reade aided me as far as lay in his power. It would

have been comparatively easy to have obtained information in regard to

the negro slaves in America; but as they have long associated with

white men, such observations would have possessed little value. In the

southern parts of the continent Mrs. Barber observed the Kafirs and

Fingoes, and sent me many distinct answers. Mr. J. P. Mansel Weale also

made some observations on the natives, and procured for me a curious

document, namely, the opinion, written in English, of Christian Gaika,

brother of the Chief Sandilli, on the expressions of his

fellow-countrymen. In the northern regions of Africa Captain Speedy,

who long resided with the Abyssinians, answered my queries partly from

memory and partly from observations made on the son of King Theodore,

who was then under his charge. Professor and Mrs. Asa Gray attended to

some points in the expressions of the natives, as observed by them

whilst ascending the Nile.

On the great American continent Mr. Bridges, a catechist residing with

the Fuegians, answered some few questions about their expression,

addressed to him many years ago. In the northern half of the continent

Dr. Rothrock attended to the expressions of the wild Atnah and Espyox

tribes on the Nasse River, in North-Western America. Mr. Washington

Matthews Assistant-Surgeon in the United States Army, also observed

with special care (after having seen my queries, as printed in the

‘Smithsonian Report’) some of the wildest tribes in the Western parts

of the United States, namely, the Tetons, Grosventres, Mandans, and

Assinaboines; and his answers have proved of the highest value.

Lastly, besides these special sources of information, I have collected

some few facts incidentally given in books of travels.——

Muscles of the Human Face. Fig 1-2

Muscles of the Human Face. Fig 3

As I shall often have to refer, more especially in the latter part of

this volume, to the muscles of the human face, I have had a diagram

(fig. 1) copied and reduced from Sir C. Bell’s work, and two others,

with more accurate details (figs. 2 and 3), from Herde’s well-known

‘Handbuch der Systematischen Anatomie des Menschen.’ The same letters

refer to the same muscles in all three figures, but the names are given

of only the more important ones to which I shall have to allude. The

facial muscles blend much together, and, as I am informed, hardly

appear on a dissected face so distinct as they are here represented.

Some writers consider that these muscles consist of nineteen pairs,

with one unpaired;[20] but others make the number much larger,

amounting even to fifty-five, according to Moreau. They are, as is

admitted by everyone who has written on the subject, very variable in

structure; and Moreau remarks that they are hardly alike in

half-a-dozen subjects.[21] They are also variable in function. Thus the

power of uncovering the canine tooth on one side differs much in

different persons. The power of raising the wings of the nostrils is

also, according to Dr. Piderit,[22] variable in a remarkable degree;

and other such cases could be given.

Finally, I must have the pleasure of expressing my obligations to Mr.

Rejlander for the trouble which he has taken in photographing for me

various expressions and gestures. I am also indebted to Herr

Kindermann, of Hamburg, for the loan of some excellent negatives of

crying infants; and to Dr. Wallich for a charming one of a smiling

girl. I have already expressed my obligations to Dr. Duchenne for

generously permitting me to have some of his large photographs copied

and reduced. All these photographs have been printed by the Heliotype

process, and the accuracy of the copy is thus guaranteed. These plates

are referred to by Roman numerals.

I am also greatly indebted to Mr. T. W. Wood for the extreme pains

which he has taken in drawing from life the expressions of various

animals. A distinguished artist, Mr. Riviere, has had the kindness to

give me two drawings of dogs—one in a hostile and the other in a humble

and caressing frame of mind. Mr. A. May has also given me two similar

sketches of dogs. Mr. Cooper has taken much care in cutting the blocks.

Some of the photographs and drawings, namely, those by Mr. May, and

those by Mr. Wolf of the Cynopithecus, were first reproduced by Mr.

Cooper on wood by means of photography, and then engraved: by this

means almost complete fidelity is ensured.

CHAPTER I. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EXPRESSION.

The three chief principles stated—The first principle—Serviceable

actions become habitual in association with certain states of the mind,

and are performed whether or not of service in each particular case—The

force of habit—Inheritance—Associated habitual movements in man—Reflex

actions—Passage of habits into reflex actions—Associated habitual

movements in the lower animals—Concluding remarks.

I will begin by giving the three Principles, which appear to me to

account for most of the expressions and gestures involuntarily used by

man and the lower animals, under the influence of various emotions and

sensations.[101] I arrived, however, at these three Principles only at

the close of my observations. They will be discussed in the present and

two following chapters in a general manner. Facts observed both with

man and the lower animals will here be made use of; but the latter

facts are preferable, as less likely to deceive us. In the fourth and

fifth chapters, I will describe the special expressions of some of the

lower animals; and in the succeeding chapters those of man. Everyone

will thus be able to judge for himself, how far my three principles

throw light on the theory of the subject. It appears to me that so many

expressions are thus explained in a fairly satisfactory manner, that

probably all will hereafter be found to come under the same or closely

analogous heads. I need hardly premise that movements or changes in any

part of the body,—as the wagging of a dog’s tail, the drawing back of a

horse’s ears, the shrugging of a man’s shoulders, or the dilatation of

the capillary vessels of the skin,—may all equally well serve for

expression. The three Principles are as follows.

I. _The principle of serviceable associated Habits_.—Certain complex

actions are of direct or indirect service under certain states of the

mind, in order to relieve or gratify certain sensations, desires, &c.;

and whenever the same state of mind is induced, however feebly, there

is a tendency through the force of habit and association for the same

movements to be performed, though they may not then be of the least

use. Some actions ordinarily associated through habit with certain

states of the mind may be partially repressed through the will, and in

such cases the muscles which are least under the separate control of

the will are the most liable still to act, causing movements which we

recognize as expressive. In certain other cases the checking of one

habitual movement requires other slight movements; and these are

likewise expressive.

II. _The principle of Antithesis_.—Certain states of the mind lead to

certain habitual actions, which are of service, as under our first

principle. Now when a directly opposite state of mind is induced, there

is a strong and involuntary tendency to the performance of movements of

a directly opposite nature, though these are of no use; and such

movements are in some cases highly expressive.

III. _The principle of actions due to the constitution of the Nervous

System, independently from the first of the Will, and independently to

a certain extent of Habit_.—When the sensorium is strongly excited,

nerve-force is generated in excess, and is transmitted in certain

definite directions, depending on the connection of the nerve-cells,

and partly on habit: or the supply of nerve-force may, as it appears,

be interrupted. Effects are thus produced which we recognize as

expressive. This third principle may, for the sake of brevity, be

called that of the direct action of the nervous system.

With respect to our _first Principle_, it is notorious how powerful is

the force of habit. The most complex and difficult movements can in

time be performed without the least effort or consciousness. It is not

positively known how it comes that habit is so efficient in

facilitating complex movements; but physiologists admit[102] “that the

conducting power of the nervous fibres increases with the frequency of

their excitement.” This applies to the nerves of motion and sensation,

as well as to those connected with the act of thinking. That some

physical change is produced in the nerve-cells or nerves which are

habitually used can hardly be doubted, for otherwise it is impossible

to understand how the tendency to certain acquired movements is

inherited. That they are inherited we see with horses in certain

transmitted paces, such as cantering and ambling, which are not natural

to them,—in the pointing of young pointers and the setting of young

setters—in the peculiar manner of flight of certain breeds of the

pigeon, &c. We have analogous cases with mankind in the inheritance of

tricks or unusual gestures, to which we shall presently recur. To those

who admit the gradual evolution of species, a most striking instance of

the perfection with which the most difficult consensual movements can

be transmitted, is afforded by the humming-bird Sphinx-moth

(_Macroglossa_); for this moth, shortly after its emergence from the

cocoon, as shown by the bloom on its unruffled scales, may be seen

poised stationary in the air, with its long hair-like proboscis

uncurled and inserted into the minute orifices of flowers; and no one,

I believe, has ever seen this moth learning to perform its difficult

task, which requires such unerring aim.

When there exists an inherited or instinctive tendency to the

performance of an action, or an inherited taste for certain kinds of

food, some degree of habit in the individual is often or generally

requisite. We find this in the paces of the horse, and to a certain

extent in the pointing of dogs; although some young dogs point

excellently the first time they are taken out, yet they often associate

the proper inherited attitude with a wrong odour, and even with

eyesight. I have heard it asserted that if a calf be allowed to suck

its mother only once, it is much more difficult afterwards to rear it

by hand.[103] Caterpillars which have been fed on the leaves of one

kind of tree, have been known to perish from hunger rather than to eat

the leaves of another tree, although this afforded them their proper

food, under a state of nature;[104] and so it is in many other cases.

The power of Association is admitted by everyone. Mr. Bain remarks,

that “actions, sensations and states of feeling, occurring together or

in close succession, tend to grow together, or cohere, in such a way

that when any one of them is afterwards presented to the mind, the

others are apt to be brought up in idea.”[105] It is so important for

our purpose fully to recognize that actions readily become associated

with other actions and with various states of the mind, that I will

give a good many instances, in the first place relating to man, and

afterwards to the lower animals. Some of the instances are of a very

trifling nature, but they are as good for our purpose as more important

habits. It is known to everyone how difficult, or even impossible it

is, without repeated trials, to move the limbs in certain opposed

directions which have never been practised. Analogous cases occur with

sensations, as in the common experiment of rolling a marble beneath the

tips of two crossed fingers, when it feels exactly like two marbles.

Everyone protects himself when falling to the ground by extending his

arms, and as Professor Alison has remarked, few can resist acting thus,

when voluntarily falling on a soft bed. A man when going out of doors

puts on his gloves quite unconsciously; and this may seem an extremely

simple operation, but he who has taught a child to put on gloves, knows

that this is by no means the case.

When our minds are much affected, so are the movements of our bodies;

but here another principle besides habit, namely the undirected

overflow of nerve-force, partially comes into play. Norfolk, in

speaking of Cardinal Wolsey, says—

“Some strange commotion

Is in his brain; he bites his lip and starts;

Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,

Then, lays his finger on his temple: straight,

Springs out into fast gait; then, stops again,

Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts

His eye against the moon: in most strange postures

We have seen him set himself.”—_Hen. VIII_., act iii, sc. 2.

A vulgar man often scratches his head when perplexed in mind; and I

believe that he acts thus from habit, as if he experienced a slightly

uncomfortable bodily sensation, namely, the itching of his head, to

which he is particularly liable, and which he thus relieves. Another

man rubs his eyes when perplexed, or gives a little cough when

embarrassed, acting in either case as if he felt a slightly

uncomfortable sensation in his eyes or windpipe.[106]

From the continued use of the eyes, these organs are especially liable

to be acted on through association under various states of the mind,

although there is manifestly nothing to be seen. A man, as Gratiolet

remarks, who vehemently rejects a proposition, will almost certainly

shut his eyes or turn away his face; but if he accepts the proposition,

he will nod his head in affirmation and open his eyes widely. The man

acts in this latter case as if he clearly saw the thing, and in the

former case as if he did not or would not see it. I have noticed that

persons in describing a horrid sight often shut their eyes momentarily

and firmly, or shake their heads, as if not to see or to drive away

something disagreeable; and I have caught myself, when thinking in the

dark of a horrid spectacle, closing my eyes firmly. In looking suddenly

at any object, or in looking all around, everyone raises his eyebrows,

so that the eyes may be quickly and widely opened; and Duchenne remarks

that[107] a person in trying to remember something often raises his

eyebrows, as if to see it. A Hindoo gentleman made exactly the same

remark to Mr. Erskine in regard to his countrymen. I noticed a young

lady earnestly trying to recollect a painter’s name, and she first

looked to one corner of the ceiling and then to the opposite corner,

arching the one eyebrow on that side; although, of course, there was

nothing to be seen there.

In most of the foregoing cases, we can understand how the associated

movements were acquired through habit; but with some individuals,

certain strange gestures or tricks have arisen in association with

certain states of the mind, owing to wholly inexplicable causes, and

are undoubtedly inherited. I have elsewhere given one instance from my

own observation of an extraordinary and complex gesture, associated

with pleasurable feelings, which was transmitted from a father to his

daughter, as well as some other analogous facts.[108] Another curious

instance of an odd inherited movement, associated with the wish to

obtain an object, will be given in the course of this volume.

There are other actions which are commonly performed under certain

circumstances, independently of habit, and which seem to be due to

imitation or some sort of sympathy. Thus persons cutting anything with

a pair of scissors may be seen to move their jaws simultaneously with

the blades of the scissors. Children learning to write often twist

about their tongues as their fingers move, in a ridiculous fashion.

When a public singer suddenly becomes a little hoarse, many of those

present may be heard, as I have been assured by a gentleman on whom I

can rely, to clear their throats; but here habit probably comes into

play, as we clear our own throats under similar circumstances. I have

also been told that at leaping matches, as the performer makes his

spring, many of the spectators, generally men and boys, move their

feet; but here again habit probably comes into play, for it is very

doubtful whether women would thus act.

_Reflex actions_—Reflex actions, in the strict sense of the term, are

due to the excitement of a peripheral nerve, which transmits its

influence to certain nerve-cells, and these in their turn excite

certain muscles or glands into action; and all this may take place

without any sensation or consciousness on our part, though often thus

accompanied. As many reflex actions are highly expressive, the subject

must here be noticed at some little length. We shall also see that some

of them graduate into, and can hardly be distinguished from actions

which have arisen through habit?[109] Coughing and sneezing are

familiar instances of reflex actions. With infants the first act of

respiration is often a sneeze, although this requires the co-ordinated

movement of numerous muscles. Respiration is partly voluntary, but

mainly reflex, and is performed in the most natural and best manner

without the interference of the will. A vast number of complex

movements are reflex. As good an instance as can be given is the

often-quoted one of a decapitated frog, which cannot of course feel,

and cannot consciously perform, any movement. Yet if a drop of acid be

placed on the lower surface of the thigh of a frog in this state, it

will rub off the drop with the upper surface of the foot of the same

leg. If this foot be cut off, it cannot thus act. “After some fruitless

efforts, therefore, it gives up trying in that way, seems restless, as

though, says Pflüger, it was seeking some other way, and at last it

makes use of the foot of the other leg and succeeds in rubbing off the

acid. Notably we have here not merely contractions of muscles, but

combined and harmonized contractions in due sequence for a special

purpose. These are actions that have all the appearance of being guided

by intelligence and instigated by will in an animal, the recognized

organ of whose intelligence and will has been removed.”[110]

We see the difference between reflex and voluntary movements in very

young children not being able to perform, as I am informed by Sir Henry

Holland, certain acts somewhat analogous to those of sneezing and

coughing, namely, in their not being able to blow their noses (_i.e._

to compress the nose and blow violently through the passage), and in

their not being able to clear their throats of phlegm. They have to

learn to perform these acts, yet they are performed by us, when a

little older, almost as easily as reflex actions. Sneezing and

coughing, however, can be controlled by the will only partially or not

at all; whilst the clearing the throat and blowing the nose are

completely under our command.

When we are conscious of the presence of an irritating particle in our

nostrils or windpipe—that is, when the same sensory nerve-cells are

excited, as in the case of sneezing and coughing—we can voluntarily

expel the particle by forcibly driving air through these passages; but

we cannot do this with nearly the same force, rapidity, and precision,

as by a reflex action. In this latter case the sensory nerve-cells

apparently excite the motor nerve-cells without any waste of power by

first communicating with the cerebral hemispheres—the seat of our

consciousness and volition. In all cases there seems to exist a

profound antagonism between the same movements, as directed by the will

and by a reflex stimulant, in the force with which they are performed

and in the facility with which they are excited. As Claude Bernard

asserts, “L’influence du cerveau tend donc à entraver les mouvements

réflexes, à limiter leur force et leur étendue.”[111]

The conscious wish to perform a reflex action sometimes stops or

interrupts its performance, though the proper sensory nerves may be

stimulated. For instance, many years ago I laid a small wager with a

dozen young men that they would not sneeze if they took snuff, although

they all declared that they invariably did so; accordingly they all

took a pinch, but from wishing much to succeed, not one sneezed, though

their eyes watered, and all, without exception, had to pay me the

wager. Sir H. Holland remarks[112] that attention paid to the act of

swallowing interferes with the proper movements; from which it probably

follows, at least in part, that some persons find it so difficult to

swallow a pill.

Another familiar instance of a reflex action is the involuntary closing

of the eyelids when the surface of the eye is touched. A similar

winking movement is caused when a blow is directed towards the face;

but this is an habitual and not a strictly reflex action, as the

stimulus is conveyed through the mind and not by the excitement of a

peripheral nerve. The whole body and head are generally at the same

time drawn suddenly backwards. These latter movements, however, can be

prevented, if the danger does not appear to the imagination imminent;

but our reason telling us that there is no danger does not suffice. I

may mention a trifling fact, illustrating this point, and which at the

time amused me. I put my face close to the thick glass-plate in front

of a puff-adder in the Zoological Gardens, with the firm determination

of not starting back if the snake struck at me; but, as soon as the

blow was struck, my resolution went for nothing, and I jumped a yard or

two backwards with astonishing rapidity. My will and reason were

powerless against the imagination of a danger which had never been

experienced.

The violence of a start seems to depend partly on the vividness of the

imagination, and partly on the condition, either habitual or temporary,

of the nervous system. He who will attend to the starting of his horse,

when tired and fresh, will perceive how perfect is the gradation from a

mere glance at some unexpected object, with a momentary doubt whether

it is dangerous, to a jump so rapid and violent, that the animal

probably could not voluntarily whirl round in so rapid a manner. The

nervous system of a fresh and highly-fed horse sends its order to the

motory system so quickly, that no time is allowed for him to consider

whether or not the danger is real. After one violent start, when he is

excited and the blood flows freely through his brain, he is very apt to

start again; and so it is, as I have noticed, with young infants.

A start from a sudden noise, when the stimulus is conveyed through the

auditory nerves, is always accompanied in grown-up persons by the

winking of the eyelids.[113] I observed, however, that though my

infants started at sudden sounds, when under a fortnight old, they

certainly did not always wink their eyes, and I believe never did so.

The start of an older infant apparently represents a vague catching

hold of something to prevent falling. I shook a pasteboard box close

before the eyes of one of my infants, when 114 days old, and it did not

in the least wink; but when I put a few comfits into the box, holding

it in the same position as before, and rattled them, the child blinked

its eyes violently every time, and started a little. It was obviously

impossible that a carefully-guarded infant could have learnt by

experience that a rattling sound near its eyes indicated danger to

them. But such experience will have been slowly gained at a later age

during a long series of generations; and from what we know of

inheritance, there is nothing improbable in the transmission of a habit

to the offspring at an earlier age than that at which it was first

acquired by the parents.

From the foregoing remarks it seems probable that some actions, which

were at first performed consciously, have become through habit and

association converted into reflex actions, and are now so firmly fixed

and inherited, that they are performed, even when not of the least

use,[114] as often as the same causes arise, which originally excited

them in us through the volition. In such cases the sensory nerve-cells

excite the motor cells, without first communicating with those cells on

which our consciousness and volition depend. It is probable that

sneezing and coughing were originally acquired by the habit of

expelling, as violently as possible, any irritating particle from the

sensitive air-passages. As far as time is concerned, there has been

more than enough for these habits to have become innate or converted

into reflex actions; for they are common to most or all of the higher

quadrupeds, and must therefore have been first acquired at a very

remote period. Why the act of clearing the throat is not a reflex

action, and has to be learnt by our children, I cannot pretend to say;

but we can see why blowing the nose on a handkerchief has to be learnt.

It is scarcely credible that the movements of a headless frog, when it

wipes off a drop of acid or other object from its thigh, and which

movements are so well coordinated for a special purpose, were not at

first performed voluntarily, being afterwards rendered easy through

long-continued habit so as at last to be performed unconsciously, or

independently of the cerebral hemispheres.

So again it appears probable that starting was originally acquired by

the habit of jumping away as quickly as possible from danger, whenever

any of our senses gave us warning. Starting, as we have seen, is

accompanied by the blinking of the eyelids so as to protect the eyes,

the most tender and sensitive organs of the body; and it is, I believe,

always accompanied by a sudden and forcible inspiration, which is the

natural preparation for any violent effort. But when a man or horse

starts, his heart beats wildly against his ribs, and here it may be

truly said we have an organ which has never been under the control of

the will, partaking in the general reflex movements of the body. To

this point, however, I shall return in a future chapter.

The contraction of the iris, when the retina is stimulated by a bright

light, is another instance of a movement, which it appears cannot

possibly have been at first voluntarily performed and then fixed by

habit; for the iris is not known to be under the conscious control of

the will in any animal. In such cases some explanation, quite distinct

from habit, will have to be discovered. The radiation of nerve-force

from strongly-excited nerve-cells to other connected cells, as in the

case of a bright light on the retina causing a sneeze, may perhaps aid

us in understanding how some reflex actions originated. A radiation of

nerve-force of this kind, if it caused a movement tending to lessen the

primary irritation, as in the case of the contraction of the iris

preventing too much light from falling on the retina, might afterwards

have been taken advantage of and modified for this special purpose.

It further deserves notice that reflex actions are in all probability

liable to slight variations, as are all corporeal structures and

instincts; and any variations which were beneficial and of sufficient

importance, would tend to be preserved and inherited. Thus reflex

actions, when once gained for one purpose, might afterwards be modified

independently of the will or habit, so as to serve for some distinct

purpose. Such cases would be parallel with those which, as we have

every reason to believe, have occurred with many instincts; for

although some instincts have been developed simply through

long-continued and inherited habit, other highly complex ones have been

developed through the preservation of variations of pre-existing

instincts—that is, through natural selection.

I have discussed at some little length, though as I am well aware, in a

very imperfect manner, the acquirement of reflex actions, because they

are often brought into play in connection with movements expressive of

our emotions; and it was necessary to show that at least some of them

might have been first acquired through the will in order to satisfy a

desire, or to relieve a disagreeable sensation.

_Associated habitual movements in the lower animals_.—I have already

given in the case of Man several instances of movements associated with

various states of the mind or body, which are now purposeless, but

which were originally of use, and are still of use under certain

circumstances. As this subject is very important for us, I will here

give a considerable number of analogous facts, with reference to

animals; although many of them are of a very trifling nature. My object

is to show that certain movements were originally performed for a

definite end, and that, under nearly the same circumstances, they are

still pertinaciously performed through habit when not of the least use.

That the tendency in most of the following cases is inherited, we may

infer from such actions being performed in the same manner by all the

individuals, young and old, of the same species. We shall also see that

they are excited by the most diversified, often circuitous, and

sometimes mistaken associations.

Dogs, when they wish to go to sleep on a carpet or other hard surface,

generally turn round and round and scratch the ground with their

fore-paws in a senseless manner, as if they intended to trample down

the grass and scoop out a hollow, as no doubt their wild parents did,

when they lived on open grassy plains or in the woods. Jackals,

fennecs, and other allied animals in the Zoological Gardens, treat

their straw in this manner; but it is a rather odd circumstance that

the keepers, after observing for some months, have never seen the

wolves thus behave. A semi-idiotic dog—and an animal in this condition

would be particularly liable to follow a senseless habit—was observed

by a friend to turn completely round on a carpet thirteen times before

going to sleep.

Many carnivorous animals, as they crawl towards their prey and prepare

to rush or spring on it, lower their heads and crouch, partly, as it

would appear, to hide themselves, and partly to get ready for their

rush; and this habit in an exaggerated form has become hereditary in

our pointers and setters. Now I have noticed scores of times that when

two strange dogs meet on an open road, the one which first sees the

other, though at the distance of one or two hundred yards, after the

first glance always lowers its bead, generally crouches a little, or

even lies down; that is, he takes the proper attitude for concealing

himself and for making a rush or spring although the road is quite open

and the distance great. Again, dogs of all kinds when intently watching

and slowly approaching their prey, frequently keep one of their

fore-legs doubled up for a long time, ready for the next cautious step;

and this is eminently characteristic of the pointer. But from habit

they behave in exactly the same manner whenever their attention is

aroused (fig. 4). I have seen a dog at the foot of a high wall,

listening attentively to a sound on the opposite side, with one leg

doubled up; and in this case there could have been no intention of

making a cautious approach.

Small Dog Watching a Cat on A Table. Figure 4

{illust. caption = for making a rush or FIG. 4.—Small dog watching a

cat on a table. From a photograph taken by Mr. Rejlander.}

Dogs after voiding their excrement often make with all four feet a few

scratches backwards, even on a bare stone pavement, as if for the

purpose of covering up their excrement with earth, in nearly the same

manner as do cats. Wolves and jackals behave in the Zoological Gardens

in exactly the same manner, yet, as I am assured by the keepers,

neither wolves, jackals, nor foxes, when they have the means of doing

so, ever cover up their excrement, any more than do dogs. All these

animals, however, bury superfluous food. Hence, if we rightly

understand the meaning of the above cat-like habit, of which there can

be little doubt, we have a purposeless remnant of an habitual movement,

which was originally followed by some remote progenitor of the

dog-genus for a definite purpose, and which has been retained for a

prodigious length of time.

Dogs and jackals[115] take much pleasure in rolling and rubbing their

necks and backs on carrion. The odour seems delightful to them, though

dogs at least do not eat carrion. Mr. Bartlett has observed wolves for

me, and has given them carrion, but has never seen them roll on it. I

have heard it remarked, and I believe it to be true, that the larger

dogs, which are probably descended from wolves, do not so often roll in

carrion as do smaller dogs, which are probably descended from jackals.

When a piece of brown biscuit is offered to a terrier of mine and she

is not hungry (and I have heard of similar instances), she first tosses

it about and worries it, as if it were a rat or other prey; she then

repeatedly rolls on it precisely as if it were a piece of carrion, and

at last eats it. It would appear that an imaginary relish has to be

given to the distasteful morsel; and to effect this the dog acts in his

habitual manner, as if the biscuit was a live animal or smelt like

carrion, though he knows better than we do that this is not the case. I

have seen this same terrier act in the same manner after killing a

little bird or mouse.

Dogs scratch themselves by a rapid movement of one of their hind-feet;

and when their backs are rubbed with a stick, so strong is the habit,

that they cannot help rapidly scratching the air or the ground in a

useless and ludicrous manner. The terrier just alluded to, when thus

scratched with a stick, will sometimes show her delight by another

habitual movement, namely, by licking the air as if it were my hand.

Horses scratch themselves by nibbling those parts of their bodies which

they can reach with their teeth; but more commonly one horse shows

another where he wants to be scratched, and they then nibble each

other. A friend whose attention I had called to the subject, observed

that when he rubbed his horse’s neck, the animal protruded his head,

uncovered his teeth, and moved his jaws, exactly as if nibbling another

horse’s neck, for he could never have nibbled his own neck. If a horse

is much tickled, as when curry-combed, his wish to bite something

becomes so intolerably strong, that he will clatter his teeth together,

and though not vicious, bite his groom. At the same time from habit he

closely depresses his ears, so as to protect them from being bitten, as

if he were fighting with another horse.

A horse when eager to start on a journey makes the nearest approach

which he can to the habitual movement of progression by pawing the

ground. Now when horses in their stalls are about to be fed and are

eager for their corn, they paw the pavement or the straw. Two of my

horses thus behave when they see or hear the corn given to their

neighbours. But here we have what may almost be called a true

expression, as pawing the ground is universally recognized as a sign of

eagerness.

Cats cover up their excrements of both kinds with earth; and my

grandfather[116] saw a kitten scraping ashes over a spoonful of pure

water spilt on the hearth; so that here an habitual or instinctive

action was falsely excited, not by a previous act or by odour, but by

eyesight. It is well known that cats dislike wetting their feet, owing,

it is probable, to their having aboriginally inhabited the dry country

of Egypt; and when they wet their feet they shake them violently. My

daughter poured some water into a glass close to the head of a kitten;

and it immediately shook its feet in the usual manner; so that here we

have an habitual movement falsely excited by an associated sound

instead of by the sense of touch.

Kittens, puppies, young pigs and probably many other young animals,

alternately push with their forefeet against the mammary glands of

their mothers, to excite a freer secretion of milk, or to make it flow.

Now it is very common with young cats, and not at all rare with old

cats of the common and Persian breeds (believed by some naturalists to

be specifically extinct), when comfortably lying on a warm shawl or

other soft substance, to pound it quietly and alternately with their

fore-feet; their toes being spread out and claws slightly protruded,

precisely as when sucking their mother. That it is the same movement is

clearly shown by their often at the same time taking a bit of the shawl

into their mouths and sucking it; generally closing their eyes and

purring from delight. This curious movement is commonly excited only in

association with the sensation of a warm soft surface; but I have seen

an old cat, when pleased by having its back scratched, pounding the air

with its feet in the same manner; so that this action has almost become

the expression of a pleasurable sensation.

Having referred to the act of sucking, I may add that this complex

movement, as well as the alternate protrusion of the fore-feet, are

reflex actions; for they are performed if a finger moistened with milk

is placed in the mouth of a puppy, the front part of whose brain has

been removed.[117] It has recently been stated in France, that the

action of sucking is excited solely through the sense of smell, so that

if the olfactory nerves of a puppy are destroyed, it never sucks. In

like manner the wonderful power which a chicken possesses only a few

hours after being hatched, of picking up small particles of food, seems

to be started into action through the sense of hearing; for with

chickens hatched by artificial heat, a good observer found that “making

a noise with the finger-nail against a board, in imitation of the

hen-mother, first taught them to peck at their meat.”[118]

I will give only one other instance of an habitual and purposeless

movement. The Sheldrake (_Tadorna_) feeds on the sands left uncovered

by the tide, and when a worm-cast is discovered, “it begins patting the

ground with its feet, dancing as it were, over the hole;” and this

makes the worm come to the surface. Now Mr. St. John says, that when

his tame Sheldrakes “came to ask for food, they patted the ground in an

impatient and rapid manner.”[119] This therefore may almost be

considered as their expression of hunger. Mr. Bartlett informs me that

the Flamingo and the Kagu (_Rhinochetus jubatus_) when anxious to be

fed, beat the ground with their feet in the same odd manner. So again

Kingfishers, when they catch a fish, always beat it until it is killed;

and in the Zoological Gardens they always beat the raw meat, with which

they are sometimes fed, before devouring it.

We have now, I think, sufficiently shown the truth of our first

Principle, namely, that when any sensation, desire, dislike, &c., has

led during a long series of generations to some voluntary movement,

then a tendency to the performance of a similar movement will almost

certainly be excited, whenever the same, or any analogous or associated

sensation &c., although very weak, is experienced; notwithstanding that

the movement in this case may not be of the least use. Such habitual

movements are often, or generally inherited; and they then differ but

little from reflex actions. When we treat of the special expressions of

man, the latter part of our first Principle, as given at the

commencement of this chapter, will be seen to hold good; namely, that

when movements, associated through habit with certain states of the

mind, are partially repressed by the will, the strictly involuntary

muscles, as well as those which are least under the separate control of

the will, are liable still to act; and their action is often highly

expressive. Conversely, when the will is temporarily or permanently

weakened, the voluntary muscles fail before the involuntary. It is a

fact familiar to pathologists, as Sir C. Bell remarks,[120] “that when

debility arises from affection of the brain, the influence is greatest

on those muscles which are, in their natural condition, most under the

command of the will.” We shall, also, in our future chapters, consider

another proposition included in our first Principle; namely, that the

checking of one habitual movement sometimes requires other slight

movements; these latter serving as a means of expression.

CHAPTER II. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EXPRESSION—_continued_.

The Principle of Antithesis—Instances in the dog and cat—Origin of the

principle—Conventional signs—The principle of antithesis has not arisen

from opposite actions being consciously performed under opposite

impulses.

We will now consider our second Principle, that of Antithesis. Certain

states of the mind lead, as we have seen in the last chapter, to

certain habitual movements which were primarily, or may still be, of

service; and we shall find that when a directly opposite state of mind

is induced, there is a strong and involuntary tendency to the

performance of movements of a directly opposite nature, though these

have never been of any service. A few striking instances of antithesis

will be given, when we treat of the special expressions of man; but as,

in these cases, we are particularly liable to confound conventional or

artificial gestures and expressions with those which are innate or

universal, and which alone deserve to rank as true expressions, I will

in the present chapter almost confine myself to the lower animals.

Dog in a Hostile Frame of Mind. Fig. 5

Fig. 6

Dog in a Hostile Frame of Mind. Fig. 7

When a dog approaches a strange dog or man in a savage or hostile frame

of mind be walks upright and very stiffly; his head is slightly raised,

or not much lowered; the tail is held erect, and quite rigid; the hairs

bristle, especially along the neck and back; the pricked ears are

directed forwards, and the eyes have a fixed stare: (see figs. 5 and

7). These actions, as will hereafter be explained, follow from the

dog’s intention to attack his enemy, and are thus to a large extent

intelligible. As he prepares to spring with a savage growl on his

enemy, the canine teeth are uncovered, and the ears are pressed close

backwards on the head; but with these latter actions, we are not here

concerned. Let us now suppose that the dog suddenly discovers that the

man he is approaching, is not a stranger, but his master; and let it be

observed how completely and instantaneously his whole bearing is

reversed. Instead of walking upright, the body sinks downwards or even

crouches, and is thrown into flexuous movements; his tail, instead of

being held stiff and upright, is lowered and wagged from side to side;

his hair instantly becomes smooth; his ears are depressed and drawn

backwards, but not closely to the head; and his lips hang loosely. From

the drawing back of the ears, the eyelids become elongated, and the

eyes no longer appear round and staring. It should be added that the

animal is at such times in an excited condition from joy; and

nerve-force will be generated in excess, which naturally leads to

action of some kind. Not one of the above movements, so clearly

expressive of affection, are of the least direct service to the animal.

They are explicable, as far as I can see, solely from being in complete

opposition or antithesis to the attitude and movements which, from

intelligible causes, are assumed when a dog intends to fight, and which

consequently are expressive of anger. I request the reader to look at

the four accompanying sketches, which have been given in order to

recall vividly the appearance of a dog under these two states of mind.

It is, however, not a little difficult to represent affection in a dog,

whilst caressing his master and wagging his tail, as the essence of the

expression lies in the continuous flexuous movements.

Dog Carressing his Master. Fig. 8

We will now turn to the cat. When this animal is threatened by a dog,

it arches its back in a surprising manner, erects its hair, opens its

mouth and spits. But we are not here concerned with this well-known

attitude, expressive of terror combined with anger; we are concerned

only with that of rage or anger. This is not often seen, but may be

observed when two cats are fighting together; and I have seen it well

exhibited by a savage cat whilst plagued by a boy. The attitude is

almost exactly the same as that of a tiger disturbed and growling over

its food, which every one must have beheld in menageries. The animal

assumes a crouching position, with the body extended; and the whole

tail, or the tip alone, is lashed or curled from side to side. The hair

is not in the least erect. Thus far, the attitude and movements are

nearly the same as when the animal is prepared to spring on its prey,

and when, no doubt, it feels savage. But when preparing to fight, there

is this difference, that the ears are closely pressed backwards; the

mouth is partially opened, showing the teeth; the fore feet are

occasionally struck out with protruded claws; and the animal

occasionally utters a fierce growl. (See figs. 9 and 10.) All, or

almost all these actions naturally follow (as hereafter to be

explained), from the cat’s manner and intention of attacking its enemy.

Cat, Savage, and Prepared to Fight. Fig. 9

Cat in an Affectionate Frame of Mind. Fig. 10

Let us now look at a cat in a directly opposite frame of mind, whilst

feeling affectionate and caressing her master; and mark how opposite is

her attitude in every respect. She now stands upright with her back

slightly arched, which makes the hair appear rather rough, but it does

not bristle; her tail, instead of being extended and lashed from side

to side, is held quite still and perpendicularly upwards; her ears are

erect and pointed; her mouth is closed; and she rubs against her master

with a purr instead of a growl. Let it further be observed how widely

different is the whole bearing of an affectionate cat from that of a

dog, when with his body crouching and flexuous, his tail lowered and

wagging, and ears depressed, he caresses his master. This contrast in

the attitudes and movements of these two carnivorous animals, under the

same pleased and affectionate frame of mind, can be explained, as it

appears to me, solely by their movements standing in complete

antithesis to those which are naturally assumed, when these animals

feel savage and are prepared either to fight or to seize their prey.

In these cases of the dog and cat, there is every reason to believe

that the gestures both of hostility and affection are innate or

inherited; for they are almost identically the same in the different

races of the species, and in all the individuals of the same race, both

young and old.

I will here give one other instance of antithesis in expression. I

formerly possessed a large dog, who, like every other dog, was much

pleased to go out walking. He showed his pleasure by trotting gravely

before me with high steps, head much raised, moderately erected ears,

and tail carried aloft but not stiffly. Not far from my house a path

branches off to the right, leading to the hot-house, which I used often

to visit for a few moments, to look at my experimental plants. This was

always a great disappointment to the dog, as he did not know whether I

should continue my walk; and the instantaneous and complete change of

expression which came over him as soon as my body swerved in the least

towards the path (and I sometimes tried this as an experiment) was

laughable. His look of dejection was known to every member of the

family, and was called his _hot-house face_. This consisted in the head

drooping much, the whole body sinking a little and remaining

motionless; the ears and tail falling suddenly down, but the tail was

by no means wagged. With the falling of the ears and of his great

chaps, the eyes became much changed in appearance, and I fancied that

they looked less bright. His aspect was that of piteous, hopeless

dejection; and it was, as I have said, laughable, as the cause was so

slight. Every detail in his attitude was in complete opposition to his

former joyful yet dignified bearing; and can be explained, as it

appears to me, in no other way, except through the principle of

antithesis. Had not the change been so instantaneous, I should have

attributed it to his lowered spirits affecting, as in the case of man,

the nervous system and circulation, and consequently the tone of his

whole muscular frame; and this may have been in part the cause.

We will now consider how the principle of antithesis in expression has

arisen. With social animals, the power of intercommunication between

the members of the same community,—and with other species, between the

opposite sexes, as well as between the young and the old,—is of the

highest importance to them. This is generally effected by means of the

voice, but it is certain that gestures and expressions are to a certain

extent mutually intelligible. Man not only uses inarticulate cries,

gestures, and expressions, but has invented articulate language; if,

indeed, the word INVENTED can be applied to a process, completed by

innumerable steps, half-consciously made. Any one who has watched

monkeys will not doubt that they perfectly understand each other’s

gestures and expression, and to a large extent, as Rengger

asserts,[201] those of man. An animal when going to attack another, or

when afraid of another, often makes itself appear terrible, by erecting

its hair, thus increasing the apparent bulk of its body, by showing its

teeth, or brandishing its horns, or by uttering fierce sounds.

As the power of intercommunication is certainly of high service to many

animals, there is no _à priori_ improbability in the supposition, that

gestures manifestly of an opposite nature to those by which certain

feelings are already expressed, should at first have been voluntarily

employed under the influence of an opposite state of feeling. The fact

of the gestures being now innate, would be no valid objection to the

belief that they were at first intentional; for if practised during

many generations, they would probably at last be inherited.

Nevertheless it is more than doubtful, as we shall immediately see,

whether any of the cases which come under our present head of

antithesis, have thus originated.

With conventional signs which are not innate, such as those used by the

deaf and dumb and by savages, the principle of opposition or antithesis

has been partially brought into play. The Cistercian monks thought it

sinful to speak, and as they could not avoid holding some

communication, they invented a gesture language, in which the principle

of opposition seems to have been employed.[202] Dr. Scott, of the

Exeter Deaf and Dumb Institution, writes to me that “opposites are

greatly used in teaching the deaf and dumb, who have a lively sense of

them.” Nevertheless I have been surprised how few unequivocal instances

can be adduced. This depends partly on all the signs having commonly

had some natural origin; and partly on the practice of the deaf and

dumb and of savages to contract their signs as much as possible for the

sake of rapidity.[203] Hence their natural source or origin often

becomes doubtful or is completely lost; as is likewise the case with

articulate language.

Many signs, moreover, which plainly stand in opposition to each other,

appear to have had on both sides a significant origin. This seems to

hold good with the signs used by the deal and dumb for light and

darkness, for strength and weakness, &c. In a future chapter I shall

endeavour to show that the opposite gestures of affirmation and

negation, namely, vertically nodding and laterally shaking the head,

have both probably had a natural beginning. The waving of the hand from

right to left, which is used as a negative by some savages, may have

been invented in imitation of shaking the head; but whether the

opposite movement of waving the hand in a straight line from the face,

which is used in affirmation, has arisen through antithesis or in some

quite distinct manner, is doubtful.

If we now turn to the gestures which are innate or common to all the

individuals of the same species, and which come under the present head

of antithesis, it is extremely doubtful, whether any of them were at

first deliberately invented and consciously performed. With mankind the

best instance of a gesture standing in direct opposition to other

movements, naturally assumed under an opposite frame of mind, is that

of shrugging the shoulders. This expresses impotence or an

apology,—something which cannot be done, or cannot be avoided. The

gesture is sometimes used consciously and voluntarily, but it is

extremely improbable that it was at first deliberately invented, and

afterwards fixed by habit; for not only do young children sometimes

shrug their shoulders under the above states of mind, but the movement

is accompanied, as will be shown in a future chapter, by various

subordinate movements, which not one man in a thousand is aware of,

unless he has specially attended to the subject.

Dogs when approaching a strange dog, may find it useful to show by

their movements that they are friendly, and do not wish to fight. When

two young dogs in play are growling and biting each other’s faces and

legs, it is obvious that they mutually understand each other’s gestures

and manners. There seems, indeed, some degree of instinctive knowledge

in puppies and kittens, that they must not use their sharp little teeth

or claws too freely in their play, though this sometimes happens and a

squeal is the result; otherwise they would often injure each other’s

eyes. When my terrier bites my hand in play, often snarling at the same

time, if he bites too hard and I say GENTLY, GENTLY, he goes on biting,

but answers me by a few wags of the tail, which seems to say “Never

mind, it is all fun.” Although dogs do thus express, and may wish to

express, to other dogs and to man, that they are in a friendly state of

mind, it is incredible that they could ever have deliberately thought

of drawing back and depressing their ears, instead of holding them

erect,—of lowering and wagging their tails, instead of keeping them

stiff and upright, &c., because they knew that these movements stood in

direct opposition to those assumed under an opposite and savage frame

of mind.

Again, when a cat, or rather when some early progenitor of the species,

from feeling affectionate first slightly arched its back, held its tail

perpendicularly upwards and pricked its ears, can it be believed that

the animal consciously wished thus to show that its frame of mind was

directly the reverse of that, when from being ready to fight or to

spring on its prey, it assumed a crouching attitude, curled its tail

from side to side and depressed its ears? Even still less can I believe

that my dog voluntarily put on his dejected attitude and “_hot-house

face_,” which formed so complete a contrast to his previous cheerful

attitude and whole bearing. It cannot be supposed that he knew that I

should understand his expression, and that he could thus soften my

heart and make me give up visiting the hot-house.

Hence for the development of the movements which come under the present

head, some other principle, distinct from the will and consciousness,

must have intervened. This principle appears to be that every movement

which we have voluntarily performed throughout our lives has required

the action of certain muscles; and when we have performed a directly

opposite movement, an opposite set of muscles has been habitually

brought into play,—as in turning to the right or to the left, in

pushing away or pulling an object towards us, and in lifting or

lowering a weight. So strongly are our intentions and movements

associated together, that if we eagerly wish an object to move in any

direction, we can hardly avoid moving our bodies in the same direction,

although we may be perfectly aware that this can have no influence. A

good illustration of this fact has already been given in the

Introduction, namely, in the grotesque movements of a young and eager

billiard-player, whilst watching the course of his ball. A man or child

in a passion, if he tells any one in a loud voice to begone, generally

moves his arm as if to push him away, although the offender may not be

standing near, and although there may be not the least need to explain

by a gesture what is meant. On the other hand, if we eagerly desire

some one to approach us closely, we act as if pulling him towards us;

and so in innumerable other instances.

As the performance of ordinary movements of an opposite kind, under

opposite impulses of the will, has become habitual in us and in the

lower animals, so when actions of one kind have become firmly

associated with any sensation or emotion, it appears natural that

actions of a directly opposite kind, though of no use, should be

unconsciously performed through habit and association, under the

influence of a directly opposite sensation or emotion. On this

principle alone can I understand how the gestures and expressions which

come under the present head of antithesis have originated. If indeed

they are serviceable to man or to any other animal, in aid of

inarticulate cries or language, they will likewise be voluntarily

employed, and the habit will thus be strengthened. But whether or not

of service as a means of communication, the tendency to perform

opposite movements under opposite sensations or emotions would, if we

may judge by analogy, become hereditary through long practice; and

there cannot be a doubt that several expressive movements due to the

principle of antithesis are inherited.

CHAPTER III. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF EXPRESSION—_concluded_.

The principle of direct action of the excited nervous system on the

body, independently of the will and in part of habit—Change of colour

in the hair—Trembling of the muscles—Modified

secretions—Perspiration—Expression of extreme pain—Of rage, great joy,

and terror—Contrast between the emotions which cause and do not cause

expressive movements—Exciting and depressing states of the

mind—Summary.

We now come to our third Principle, namely, that certain actions which

we recognize as expressive of certain states of the mind, are the

direct result of the constitution of the nervous system, and have been

from the first independent of the will, and, to a large extent, of

habit. When the sensorium is strongly excited nerve-force is generated

in excess, and is transmitted in certain directions, dependent on the

connection of the nerve-cells, and, as far as the muscular system is

concerned, on the nature of the movements which have been habitually

practised. Or the supply of nerve-force may, as it appears, be

interrupted. Of course every movement which we make is determined by

the constitution of the nervous system; but actions performed in

obedience to the will, or through habit, or through the principle of

antithesis, are here as far as possible excluded. Our present subject

is very obscure, but, from its importance, must be discussed at some

little length; and it is always advisable to perceive clearly our

ignorance.

The most striking case, though a rare and abnormal one, which can be

adduced of the direct influence of the nervous system, when strongly

affected, on the body, is the loss of colour in the hair, which has

occasionally been observed after extreme terror or grief. One authentic

instance has been recorded, in the case of a man brought out for

execution in India, in which the change of colour was so rapid that it

was perceptible to the eye.[301]

Another good case is that of the trembling of the muscles, which is

common to man and to many, or most, of the lower animals. Trembling is

of no service, often of much disservice, and cannot have been at first

acquired through the will, and then rendered habitual in association

with any emotion. I am assured by an eminent authority that young

children do not tremble, but go into convulsions under the

circumstances which would induce excessive trembling in adults.

Trembling is excited in different individuals in very different degrees

and by the most diversified causes,—by cold to the surface, before

fever-fits, although the temperature of the body is then above the

normal standard; in blood-poisoning, delirium tremens, and other

diseases; by general failure of power in old age; by exhaustion after

excessive fatigue; locally from severe injuries, such as burns; and, in

an especial manner, by the passage of a catheter. Of all emotions, fear

notoriously is the most apt to induce trembling; but so do occasionally

great anger and joy. I remember once seeing a boy who had just shot his

first snipe on the wing, and his hands trembled to such a degree from

delight, that he could not for some time reload his gun; and I have

heard of an exactly similar case with an Australian savage, to whom a

gun had been lent. Fine music, from the vague emotions thus excited,

causes a shiver to run down the backs of some persons. There seems to

be very little in common in the above several physical causes and

emotions to account for trembling; and Sir J. Paget, to whom I am

indebted for several of the above statements, informs me that the

subject is a very obscure one. As trembling is sometimes caused by

rage, long before exhaustion can have set in, and as it sometimes

accompanies great joy, it would appear that any strong excitement of

the nervous system interrupts the steady flow of nerve-force to the

muscles.[302]

The manner in which the secretions of the alimentary canal and of

certain glands—as the liver, kidneys, or mammæ are affected by strong

emotions, is another excellent instance of the direct action of the

sensorium on these organs, independently of the will or of any

serviceable associated habit. There is the greatest difference in

different persons in the parts which are thus affected, and in the

degree of their affection.

The heart, which goes on uninterruptedly beating night and day in so

wonderful a manner, is extremely sensitive to external stimulants. The

great physiologist, Claude Bernard,[303] has shown how the least

excitement of a sensitive nerve reacts on the heart; even when a nerve

is touched so slightly that no pain can possibly be felt by the animal

under experiment. Hence when the mind is strongly excited, we might

expect that it would instantly affect in a direct manner the heart; and

this is universally acknowledged and felt to be the case. Claude

Bernard also repeatedly insists, and this deserves especial notice,

that when the heart is affected it reacts on the brain; and the state

of the brain again reacts through the pneumo-gastric nerve on the

heart; so that under any excitement there will be much mutual action

and reaction between these, the two most important organs of the body.

The vaso-motor system, which regulates the diameter of the small

arteries, is directly acted on by the sensorium, as we see when a man

blushes from shame; but in this latter case the checked transmission of

nerve-force to the vessels of the face can, I think, be partly

explained in a curious manner through habit. We shall also be able to

throw some light, though very little, on the involuntary erection of

the hair under the emotions of terror and rage. The secretion of tears

depends, no doubt, on the connection of certain nerve-cells; but here

again we can trace some few of the steps by which the flow of

nerve-force through the requisite channels has become habitual under

certain emotions.

A brief consideration of the outward signs of some of the stronger

sensations and emotions will best serve to show us, although vaguely,

in how complex a manner the principle under consideration of the direct

action of the excited nervous system of the body, is combined with the

principle of habitually associated, serviceable movements.

When animals suffer from an agony of pain, they generally writhe about

with frightful contortions; and those which habitually use their voices

utter piercing cries or groans. Almost every muscle of the body is

brought into strong action. With man the mouth may be closely

compressed, or more commonly the lips are retracted, with the teeth

clenched or ground together. There is said to be “gnashing of teeth” in

hell; and I have plainly heard the grinding of the molar teeth of a cow

which was suffering acutely from inflammation of the bowels. The female

hippopotamus in the Zoological Gardens, when she produced her young,

suffered greatly; she incessantly walked about, or rolled on her sides,

opening and closing her jaws, and clattering her teeth together.[304]

With man the eyes stare wildly as in horrified astonishment, or the

brows are heavily contracted. Perspiration bathes the body, and drops

trickle down the face. The circulation and respiration are much

affected. Hence the nostrils are generally dilated and often quiver; or

the breath may be held until the blood stagnates in the purple face. If

the agony be severe and prolonged, these signs all change; utter

prostration follows, with fainting or convulsions.

A sensitive nerve when irritated transmits some influence to the

nerve-cell, whence it proceeds; and this transmits its influence, first

to the corresponding nerve-cell on the opposite side of the body, and

then upwards and downwards along the cerebro-spinal column to other

nerve-cells, to a greater or less extent, according to the strength of

the excitement; so that, ultimately, the whole nervous system maybe

affected.[305] This involuntary transmission of nerve-force may or may

not be accompanied by consciousness. Why the irritation of a nerve-cell

should generate or liberate nerve-force is not known; but that this is

the case seems to be the conclusion arrived at by all the greatest

physiologists, such as Müller, Virchow, Bernard, &c.[306] As Mr.

Herbert Spencer remarks, it may be received as an “unquestionable truth

that, at any moment, the existing quantity of liberated nerve-force,

which in an inscrutable way produces in us the state we call feeling,

MUST expend itself in some direction—MUST generate an equivalent

manifestation of force somewhere;” so that, when the cerebro-spinal

system is highly excited and nerve-force is liberated in excess, it may

be expended in intense sensations, active thought, violent movements,

or increased activity of the glands.[307] Mr. Spencer further maintains

that an “overflow of nerve-force, undirected by any motive, will

manifestly take the most habitual routes; and, if these do not suffice,

will next overflow into the less habitual ones.” Consequently the

facial and respiratory muscles, which are the most used, will be apt to

be first brought into action; then those of the upper extremities, next

those of the lower, and finally those of the whole body.[308]

An emotion may be very strong, but it will have little tendency to

induce movements of any kind, if it has not commonly led to voluntary

action for its relief or gratification; and when movements are excited,

their nature is, to a large extent, determined by those which have

often and voluntarily been performed for some definite end under the

same emotion. Great pain urges all animals, and has urged them during

endless generations, to make the most violent and diversified efforts

to escape from the cause of suffering. Even when a limb or other

separate part of the body is hurt, we often see a tendency to shake it,

as if to shake off the cause, though this may obviously be impossible.

Thus a habit of exerting with the utmost force all the muscles will

have been established, whenever great suffering is experienced. As the

muscles of the chest and vocal organs are habitually used, these will

be particularly liable to be acted on, and loud, harsh screams or cries

will be uttered. But the advantage derived from outcries has here

probably come into play in an important manner; for the young of most

animals, when in distress or danger, call loudly to their parents for

aid, as do the members of the same community for mutual aid.

Another principle, namely, the internal consciousness that the power or

capacity of the nervous system is limited, will have strengthened,

though in a subordinate degree, the tendency to violent action under

extreme suffering. A man cannot think deeply and exert his utmost

muscular force. As Hippocrates long ago observed, if two pains are felt

at the same time, the severer one dulls the other. Martyrs, in the

ecstasy of their religious fervour have often, as it would appear, been

insensible to the most horrid tortures. Sailors who are going to be

flogged sometimes take a piece of lead into their mouths, in order to

bite it with their utmost force, and thus to bear the pain. Parturient

women prepare to exert their muscles to the utmost in order to relieve

their sufferings.

We thus see that the undirected radiation of nerve-force from the

nerve-cells which are first affected—the long-continued habit of

attempting by struggling to escape from the cause of suffering—and the

consciousness that voluntary muscular exertion relieves pain, have all

probably concurred in giving a tendency to the most violent, almost

convulsive, movements under extreme suffering; and such movements,

including those of the vocal organs, are universally recognized as

highly expressive of this condition.

As the mere touching of a sensitive nerve reacts in a direct manner on

the heart, severe pain will obviously react on it in like manner, but

far more energetically. Nevertheless, even in this case, we must not

overlook the indirect effects of habit on the heart, as we shall see

when we consider the signs of rage.

When a man suffers from an agony of pain, the perspiration often

trickles down his face; and I have been assured by a veterinary surgeon

that he has frequently seen drops falling from the belly and running

down the inside of the thighs of horses, and from the bodies of cattle,

when thus suffering. He has observed this, when there has been no

struggling which would account for the perspiration. The whole body of

the female hippopotamus, before alluded to, was covered with

red-coloured perspiration whilst giving birth to her young. So it is

with extreme fear; the same veterinary has often seen horses sweating

from this cause; as has Mr. Bartlett with the rhinoceros; and with man

it is a well-known symptom. The cause of perspiration bursting forth in

these cases is quite obscure; but it is thought by some physiologists

to be connected with the failing power of the capillary circulation;

and we know that the vasomotor system, which regulates the capillary

circulation, is much influenced by the mind. With respect to the

movements of certain muscles of the face under great suffering, as well

as from other emotions, these will be best considered when we treat of

the special expressions of man and of the lower animals.

We will now turn to the characteristic symptoms of Rage. Under this

powerful emotion the action of the heart is much accelerated,[309] or

it may be much disturbed. The face reddens, or it becomes purple from

the impeded return of the blood, or may turn deadly pale. The

respiration is laboured, the chest heaves, and the dilated nostrils

quiver. The whole body often trembles. The voice is affected. The teeth

are clenched or ground together, and the muscular system is commonly

stimulated to violent, almost frantic action. But the gestures of a man

in this state usually differ from the purposeless writhings and

struggles of one suffering from an agony of pain; for they represent

more or less plainly the act of striking or fighting with an enemy.

All these signs of rage are probably in large part, and some of them

appear to be wholly, due to the direct action of the excited sensorium.

But animals of all kinds, and their progenitors before them, when

attacked or threatened by an enemy, have exerted their utmost powers in

fighting and in defending themselves. Unless an animal does thus act,

or has the intention, or at least the desire, to attack its enemy, it

cannot properly be said to be enraged. An inherited habit of muscular

exertion will thus have been gained in association with rage; and this

will directly or indirectly affect various organs, in nearly the same

manner as does great bodily suffering.

The heart no doubt will likewise be affected in a direct manner; but it

will also in all probability be affected through habit; and all the

more so from not being under the control of the will. We know that any

great exertion which we voluntarily make, affects the heart, through

mechanical and other principles which need not here be considered; and

it was shown in the first chapter that nerve-force flows readily

through habitually used channels,—through the nerves of voluntary or

involuntary movement, and through those of sensation. Thus even a

moderate amount of exertion will tend to act on the heart; and on the

principle of association, of which so many instances have been given,

we may feel nearly sure that any sensation or emotion, as great pain or

rage, which has habitually led to much muscular action, will

immediately influence the flow of nerve-force to the heart, although

there may not be at the time any muscular exertion.

The heart, as I have said, will be all the more readily affected

through habitual associations, as it is not under the control of the

will. A man when moderately angry, or even when enraged, may command

the movements of his body, but he cannot prevent his heart from beating

rapidly. His chest will perhaps give a few heaves, and his nostrils

just quiver, for the movements of respiration are only in part

voluntary. In like manner those muscles of the face which are least

obedient to the will, will sometimes alone betray a slight and passing

emotion. The glands again are wholly independent of the will, and a man

suffering from grief may command his features, but cannot always

prevent the tears from coming into his eyes. A hungry man, if tempting

food is placed before him, may not show his hunger by any outward

gesture, but he cannot check the secretion of saliva.

Under a transport of Joy or of vivid Pleasure, there is a strong

tendency to various purposeless movements, and to the utterance of

various sounds. We see this in our young children, in their loud

laughter, clapping of hands, and jumping for joy; in the bounding and

barking of a dog when going out to walk with his master; and in the

frisking of a horse when turned out into an open field. Joy quickens

the circulation, and this stimulates the brain, which again reacts on

the whole body. The above purposeless movements and increased

heart-action may be attributed in chief part to the excited state of

the sensorium,[310] and to the consequent undirected overflow, as Mr.

Herbert Spencer insists, of nerve-force. It deserves notice, that it is

chiefly the anticipation of a pleasure, and not its actual enjoyment,

which leads to purposeless and extravagant movements of the body, and

to the utterance of various sounds. We see this in our children when

they expect any great pleasure or treat; and dogs, which have been

bounding about at the sight of a plate of food, when they get it do not

show their delight by any outward sign, not even by wagging their

tails. Now with animals of all kinds, the acquirement of almost all

their pleasures, with the exception of those of warmth and rest, are

associated, and have long been associated with active movements, as in

the hunting or search for food, and in their courtship. Moreover, the

mere exertion of the muscles after long rest or confinement is in

itself a pleasure, as we ourselves feel, and as we see in the play of

young animals. Therefore on this latter principle alone we might

perhaps expect, that vivid pleasure would be apt to show itself

conversely in muscular movements.

With all or almost all animals, even with birds, Terror causes the body

to tremble. The skin becomes pale, sweat breaks out, and the hair

bristles. The secretions of the alimentary canal and of the kidneys are

increased, and they are involuntarily voided, owing to the relaxation

of the sphincter muscles, as is known to be the case with man, and as I

have seen with cattle, dogs, cats, and monkeys. The breathing is

hurried. The heart beats quickly, wildly, and violently; but whether it

pumps the blood more efficiently through the body may be doubted, for

the surface seems bloodless and the strength of the muscles soon fails.

In a frightened horse I have felt through the saddle the beating of the

heart so plainly that I could have counted the beats. The mental

faculties are much disturbed. Utter prostration soon follows, and even

fainting. A terrified canary-bird has been seen not only to tremble and

to turn white about the base of the bill, but to faint;[311] and I once

caught a robin in a room, which fainted so completely, that for a time

I thought it dead.

Most of these symptoms are probably the direct result, independently of

habit, of the disturbed state of the sensorium; but it is doubtful

whether they ought to be wholly thus accounted for. When an animal is

alarmed it almost always stands motionless for a moment, in order to

collect its senses and to ascertain the source of danger, and sometimes

for the sake of escaping detection. But headlong flight soon follows,

with no husbanding of the strength as in fighting, and the animal

continues to fly as long as the danger lasts, until utter prostration,

with failing respiration and circulation, with all the muscles

quivering and profuse sweating, renders further flight impossible.

Hence it does not seem improbable that the principle of associated

habit may in part account for, or at least augment, some of the

above-named characteristic symptoms of extreme terror.

That the principle of associated habit has played an important part in

causing the movements expressive of the foregoing several strong

emotions and sensations, we may, I think, conclude from considering

firstly, some other strong emotions which do not ordinarily require for

their relief or gratification any voluntary movement; and secondly the

contrast in nature between the so-called exciting and depressing states

of the mind. No emotion is stronger than maternal love; but a mother

may feel the deepest love for her helpless infant, and yet not show it

by any outward sign; or only by slight caressing movements, with a

gentle smile and tender eyes. But let any one intentionally injure her

infant, and see what a change! how she starts up with threatening

aspect, how her eyes sparkle and her face reddens, how her bosom

heaves, nostrils dilate, and heart beats; for anger, and not maternal

love, has habitually led to action. The love between the opposite sexes

is widely different from maternal love; and when lovers meet, we know

that their hearts beat quickly, their breathing is hurried, and their

faces flush; for this love is not inactive like that of a mother for

her infant.

A man may have his mind filled with the blackest hatred or suspicion,

or be corroded with envy or jealousy, but as these feelings do not at

once lead to action, and as they commonly last for some time, they are

not shown by any outward sign, excepting that a man in this state

assuredly does not appear cheerful or good-tempered. If indeed these

feelings break out into overt acts, rage takes their place, and will be

plainly exhibited. Painters can hardly portray suspicion, jealousy,

envy, &c., except by the aid of accessories which tell the tale; and

poets use such vague and fanciful expressions as “green-eyed jealousy.”

Spenser describes suspicion as “Foul, ill-favoured, and grim, under his

eyebrows looking still askance,” &c.; Shakespeare speaks of envy “as

lean-faced in her loathsome case;” and in another place he says, “no

black envy shall make my grave;” and again as “above pale envy’s

threatening reach.”

Emotions and sensations have often been classed as exciting or

depressing. When all the organs of the body and mind,—those of

voluntary and involuntary movement, of perception, sensation, thought,

&c.,—perform their functions more energetically and rapidly than usual,

a man or animal may be said to be excited, and, under an opposite

state, to be depressed. Anger and joy are from the first exciting

emotions, and they naturally lead, more especially the former, to

energetic movements, which react on the heart and this again on the

brain. A physician once remarked to me as a proof of the exciting

nature of anger, that a man when excessively jaded will sometimes

invent imaginary offences and put himself into a passion, unconsciously

for the sake of reinvigorating himself; and since hearing this remark,

I have occasionally recognized its full truth.

Several other states of mind appear to be at first exciting, but soon

become depressing to an extreme degree. When a mother suddenly loses

her child, sometimes she is frantic with grief, and must be considered

to be in an excited state; she walks wildly about, tears her hair or

clothes, and wrings her hands. This latter action is perhaps due to the

principle of antithesis, betraying an inward sense of helplessness and

that nothing can be done. The other wild and violent movements may be

in part explained by the relief experienced through muscular exertion,

and in part by the undirected overflow of nerve-force from the excited

sensorium. But under the sudden loss of a beloved person, one of the

first and commonest thoughts which occurs, is that something more might

have been done to save the lost one. An excellent observer,[312] in

describing the behaviour of a girl at the sudden death of her father,

says she “went about the house wringing her hands like a creature

demented, saying ‘It was her fault;’ ‘I should never have left him;’

‘If I had only sat up with him,’” &c. With such ideas vividly present

before the mind, there would arise, through the principle of associated

habit, the strongest tendency to energetic action of some kind.

As soon as the sufferer is fully conscious that nothing can be done,

despair or deep sorrow takes the place of frantic grief. The sufferer

sits motionless, or gently rocks to and fro; the circulation becomes

languid; respiration is almost forgotten, and deep sighs are drawn. All

this reacts on the brain, and prostration soon follows with collapsed

muscles and dulled eyes. As associated habit no longer prompts the

sufferer to action, he is urged by his friends to voluntary exertion,

and not to give way to silent, motionless grief. Exertion stimulates

the hear, and this reacts on the brain, and aids the mind to bear its

heavy load.

Pain, if severe, soon induces extreme depression or prostration; but it

is at first a stimulant and excites to action, as we see when we whip a

horse, and as is shown by the horrid tortures inflicted in foreign

lands on exhausted dray-bullocks, to rouse them to renewed exertion.

Fear again is the most depressing of all the emotions; and it soon

induces utter, helpless prostration, as if in consequence of, or in

association with, the most violent and prolonged attempts to escape

from the danger, though no such attempts have actually been made.

Nevertheless, even extreme fear often acts at first as a powerful

stimulant. A man or animal driven through terror to desperation, is

endowed with wonderful strength, and is notoriously dangerous in the

highest degree.

On the whole we may conclude that the principle of the direct action of

the sensorium on the body, due to the constitution of the nervous

system, and from the first independent of the will, has been highly

influential in determining many expressions. Good instances are

afforded by the trembling of the muscles, the sweating of the skin, the

modified secretions of the alimentary canal and glands, under various

emotions and sensations. But actions of this kind are often combined

with others, which follow from our first principle, namely, that

actions which have often been of direct or indirect service, under

certain states of the mind, in order to gratify or relieve certain

sensations, desires, &c., are still performed under analogous

circumstances through mere habit although of no service. We have

combinations of this kind, at least in part, in the frantic gestures of

rage and in the writhings of extreme pain; and, perhaps, in the

increased action of the heart and of the respiratory organs. Even when

these and other emotions or sensations are aroused in a very feeble

manner, there will still be a tendency to similar actions, owing to the

force of long-associated habit; and those actions which are least under

voluntary control will generally be longest retained. Our second

principle of antithesis has likewise occasionally come into play.

Finally, so many expressive movements can be explained, as I trust will

be seen in the course of this volume, through the three principles

which have now been discussed, that we may hope hereafter to see all

thus explained, or by closely analogous principles. It is, however,

often impossible to decide how much weight ought to be attributed, in

each particular case, to one of our principles, and how much to

another; and very many points in the theory of Expression remain

inexplicable.

CHAPTER IV. MEANS OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

The emission of Sounds—Vocal sounds—Sounds otherwise produced—Erection

of the dermal appendages, hairs, feathers, &c., under the emotions of

anger and terror—The drawing back of the ears as a preparation for

fighting, and as an expression of anger—Erection of the ears and

raising the head, a sign of attention.

In this and the following chapter I will describe, but only in

sufficient detail to illustrate my subject, the expressive movements,

under different states of the mind, of some few well-known animals. But

before considering them in due succession, it will save much useless

repetition to discuss certain means of expression common to most of

them.

_The emission of Sounds_.—With many kinds of animals, man included, the

vocal organs are efficient in the highest degree as a means of

expression. We have seen, in the last chapter, that when the sensorium

is strongly excited, the muscles of the body are generally thrown into

violent action; and as a consequence, loud sounds are uttered, however

silent the animal may generally be, and although the sounds may be of

no use. Hares and rabbits for instance, never, I believe, use their

vocal organs except in the extremity of suffering; as, when a wounded

hare is killed by the sportsman, or when a young rabbit is caught by a

stoat. Cattle and horses suffer great pain in silence; but when this is

excessive, and especially when associated with terror, they utter

fearful sounds. I have often recognized, from a distance on the Pampas,

the agonized death-bellow of the cattle, when caught by the lasso and

hamstrung. It is said that horses, when attacked by wolves, utter loud

and peculiar screams of distress.

Involuntary and purposeless contractions of the muscles of the chest

and glottis, excited in the above manner, may have first given rise to

the emission of vocal sounds. But the voice is now largely used by many

animals for various purposes; and habit seems to have played an

important part in its employment under other circumstances. Naturalists

have remarked, I believe with truth, that social animals, from

habitually using their vocal organs as a means of intercommunication,

use them on other occasions much more freely than other animals. But

there are marked exceptions to this rule, for instance, with the

rabbit. The principle, also, of association, which is so widely

extended in its power, has likewise played its part. Hence it follows

that the voice, from having been habitually employed as a serviceable

aid under certain conditions, inducing pleasure, pain, rage, &c., is

commonly used whenever the same sensations or emotions are excited,

under quite different conditions, or in a lesser degree.

The sexes of many animals incessantly call for each other during the

breeding-season; and in not a few cases, the male endeavours thus to

charm or excite the female. This, indeed, seems to have been the

primeval use and means of development of the voice, as I have attempted

to show in my ‘Descent of Man.’ Thus the use of the vocal organs will

have become associated with the anticipation of the strongest pleasure

which animals are capable of feeling. Animals which live in society

often call to each other when separated, and evidently feel much joy at

meeting; as we see with a horse, on the return of his companion, for

whom he has been neighing. The mother calls incessantly for her lost

young ones; for instance, a cow for her calf; and the young of many

animals call for their mothers. When a flock of sheep is scattered, the

ewes bleat incessantly for their lambs, and their mutual pleasure at

coming together is manifest. Woe betide the man who meddles with the

young of the larger and fiercer quadrupeds, if they hear the cry of

distress from their young. Rage leads to the violent exertion of all

the muscles, including those of the voice; and some animals, when

enraged, endeavour to strike terror into their enemies by its power and

harshness, as the lion does by roaring, and the dog by growling. I

infer that their object is to strike terror, because the lion at the

same time erects the hair of its mane, and the dog the hair along its

back, and thus they make themselves appear as large and terrible as

possible. Rival males try to excel and challenge each other by their

voices, and this leads to deadly contests. Thus the use of the voice

will have become associated with the emotion of anger, however it may

be aroused. We have also seen that intense pain, like rage, leads to

violent outcries, and the exertion of screaming by itself gives some

relief; and thus the use of the voice will have become associated with

suffering of any kind.

The cause of widely different sounds being uttered under different

emotions and sensations is a very obscure subject. Nor does the rule

always hold good that there is any marked difference. For instance with

the dog, the bark of anger and that of joy do not differ much, though

they can be distinguished. It is not probable that any precise

explanation of the cause or source of each particular sound, under

different states of the mind, will ever be given. We know that some

animals, after being domesticated, have acquired the habit of uttering

sounds which were not natural to them.[401] Thus domestic dogs, and

even tamed jackals, have learnt to bark, which is a noise not proper to

any species of the genus, with the exception of the _Canis latrans_ of

North America, which is said to bark. Some breeds, also, of the

domestic pigeon have learnt to coo in a new and quite peculiar manner.

The character of the human voice, under the influence of various

emotions, has been discussed by Mr. Herbert Spencer[402] in his

interesting essay on Music. He clearly shows that the voice alters much

under different conditions, in loudness and in quality, that is, in

resonance and _timbre_, in pitch and intervals. No one can listen to an

eloquent orator or preacher, or to a man calling angrily to another, or

to one expressing astonishment, without being struck with the truth of

Mr. Spencer’s remarks. It is curious how early in life the modulation

of the voice becomes expressive. With one of my children, under the age

of two years, I clearly perceived that his humph of assent was rendered

by a slight modulation strongly emphatic; and that by a peculiar whine

his negative expressed obstinate determination. Mr. Spencer further

shows that emotional speech, in all the above respects is intimately

related to vocal music, and consequently to instrumental music; and he

attempts to explain the characteristic qualities of both on

physiological grounds—namely, on “the general law that a feeling is a

stimulus to muscular action.” It may be admitted that the voice is

affected through this law; but the explanation appears to me too

general and vague to throw much light on the various differences, with

the exception of that of loudness, between ordinary speech and

emotional speech, or singing.

This remark holds good, whether we believe that the various qualities

of the voice originated in speaking under the excitement of strong

feelings, and that these qualities have subsequently been transferred

to vocal music; or whether we believe, as I maintain, that the habit of

uttering musical sounds was first developed, as a means of courtship,

in the early progenitors of man, and thus became associated with the

strongest emotions of which they were capable,—namely, ardent love,

rivalry and triumph. That animals utter musical notes is familiar to

every one, as we may daily hear in the singing of birds. It is a more

remarkable fact that an ape, one of the Gibbons, produces an exact

octave of musical sounds, ascending and descending the scale by

halftones; so that this monkey “alone of brute mammals may be said to

sing.”[403] From this fact, and from the analogy of other animals, I

have been led to infer that the progenitors of man probably uttered

musical tones, before they had acquired the power of articulate speech;

and that consequently, when the voice is used under any strong emotion,

it tends to assume, through the principle of association, a musical

character. We can plainly perceive, with some of the lower animals,

that the males employ their voices to please the females, and that they

themselves take pleasure in their own vocal utterances; but why

particular sounds are uttered, and why these give pleasure cannot at

present be explained.

That the pitch of the voice bears some relation to certain states of

feeling is tolerably clear. A person gently complaining of

ill-treatment, or slightly suffering, almost always speaks in a

high-pitched voice. Dogs, when a little impatient, often make a high

piping note through their noses, which at once strikes us as

plaintive;[404] but how difficult it is to know whether the sound is

essentially plaintive, or only appears so in this particular case, from

our having learnt by experience what it means! Rengger, states[405]

that the monkeys (_Cebus azaræ_), which he kept in Paraguay, expressed

astonishment by a half-piping, half-snarling noise; anger or

impatience, by repeating the sound _hu hu_ in a deeper, grunting voice;

and fright or pain, by shrill screams. On the other hand, with mankind,

deep groans and high piercing screams equally express an agony of pain.

Laughter maybe either high or low; so that, with adult men, as Haller

long ago remarked,[406] the sound partakes of the character of the

vowels (as pronounced in German) _O_ and _A_; whilst with children and

women, it has more of the character of _E_ and _I_; and these latter

vowel-sounds naturally have, as Helmholtz has shown, a higher pitch

than the former; yet both tones of laughter equally express enjoyment

or amusement.

In considering the mode in which vocal utterances express emotion, we

are naturally led to inquire into the cause of what is called

“expression” in music. Upon this point Mr. Litchfield, who has long

attended to the subject of music, has been so kind as to give me the

following remarks:—“The question, what is the essence of musical

‘expression’ involves a number of obscure points, which, so far as I am

aware, are as yet unsolved enigmas. Up to a certain point, however, any

law which is found to hold as to the expression of the emotions by

simple sounds must apply to the more developed mode of expression in

song, which may be taken as the primary type of all music. A great part

of the emotional effect of a song depends on the character of the

action by which the sounds are produced. In songs, for instance, which

express great vehemence of passion, the effect often chiefly depends on

the forcible utterance of some one or two characteristic passages which

demand great exertion of vocal force; and it will be frequently noticed

that a song of this character fails of its proper effect when sung by a

voice of sufficient power and range to give the characteristic passages

without much exertion. This is, no doubt, the secret of the loss of

effect so often produced by the transposition of a song from one key to

another. The effect is thus seen to depend not merely on the actual

sounds, but also in part on the nature of the action which produces the

sounds. Indeed it is obvious that whenever we feel the ‘expression’ of

a song to be due to its quickness or slowness of movement—to smoothness

of flow, loudness of utterance, and so on—we are, in fact, interpreting

the muscular actions which produce sound, in the same way in which we

interpret muscular action generally. But this leaves unexplained the

more subtle and more specific effect which we call the _musical_

expression of the song—the delight given by its melody, or even by the

separate sounds which make up the melody. This is an effect indefinable

in language—one which, so far as I am aware, no one has been able to

analyse, and which the ingenious speculation of Mr. Herbert Spencer as

to the origin of music leaves quite unexplained. For it is certain that

the _melodic_ effect of a series of sounds does not depend in the least

on their loudness or softness, or on their _absolute_ pitch. A tune is

always the same tune, whether it is sung loudly or softly, by a child

or a man; whether it is played on a flute or on a trombone. The purely

musical effect of any sound depends on its place in what is technically

called a ‘scale;’ the same sound producing absolutely different effects

on the ear, according as it is heard in connection with one or another

series of sounds.

“It is on this _relative_ association of the sounds that all the

essentially characteristic effects which are summed up in the phrase

‘musical expression,’ depend. But why certain associations of sounds

have such-and-such effects, is a problem which yet remains to be

solved. These effects must indeed, in some way or other, be connected

with the well-known arithmetical relations between the rates of

vibration of the sounds which form a musical scale. And it is

possible—but this is merely a suggestion—that the greater or less

mechanical facility with which the vibrating apparatus of the human

larynx passes from one state of vibration to another, may have been a

primary cause of the greater or less pleasure produced by various

sequences of sounds.”

But leaving aside these complex questions and confining ourselves to

the simpler sounds, we can, at least, see some reasons for the

association of certain kinds of sounds with certain states of mind. A

scream, for instance, uttered by a young animal, or by one of the

members of a community, as a call for assistance, will naturally be

loud, prolonged, and high, so as to penetrate to a distance. For

Helmholtz has shown[407] that, owing to the shape of the internal

cavity of the human ear and its consequent power of resonance, high

notes produce a particularly strong impression. When male animals utter

sounds in order to please the females, they would naturally employ

those which are sweet to the ears of the species; and it appears that

the same sounds are often pleasing to widely different animals, owing

to the similarity of their nervous systems, as we ourselves perceive in

the singing of birds and even in the chirping of certain tree-frogs

giving us pleasure. On the other hand, sounds produced in order to

strike terror into an enemy, would naturally be harsh or displeasing.

Whether the principle of antithesis has come into play with sounds, as

might perhaps have been expected, is doubtful. The interrupted,

laughing or tittering sounds made by man and by various kinds of

monkeys when pleased, are as different as possible from the prolonged

screams of these animals when distressed. The deep grunt of

satisfaction uttered by a pig, when pleased with its food, is widely

different from its harsh scream of pain or terror. But with the dog, as

lately remarked, the bark of anger and that of joy are sounds which by

no means stand in opposition to each other; and so it is in some other

cases.

There is another obscure point, namely, whether the sounds which are

produced under various states of the mind determine the shape of the

mouth, or whether its shape is not determined by independent causes,

and the sound thus modified. When young infants cry they open their

mouths widely, and this, no doubt, is necessary for pouring forth a

full volume of sound; but the mouth then assumes, from a quite distinct

cause, an almost quadrangular shape, depending, as will hereafter be

explained, on the firm closing of the eyelids, and consequent drawing

up of the upper lip. How far this square shape of the mouth modifies

the wailing or crying sound, I am not prepared to say; but we know from

the researches of Helmholtz and others that the form of the cavity of

the mouth and lips determines the nature and pitch of the vowel sounds

which are produced.

It will also be shown in a future chapter that, under the feeling of

contempt or disgust, there is a tendency, from intelligible causes, to

blow out of the mouth or nostrils, and this produces sounds like pooh

or pish. When any one is startled or suddenly astonished, there is an

instantaneous tendency, likewise from an intelligible cause, namely, to

be ready for prolonged exertion, to open the mouth widely, so as to

draw a deep and rapid inspiration. When the next full expiration

follows, the mouth is slightly closed, and the lips, from causes

hereafter to be discussed, are somewhat protruded; and this form of the

mouth, if the voice be at all exerted, produces, according to

Helmholtz, the sound of the vowel _O_. Certainly a deep sound of a

prolonged _Oh!_ may be heard from a whole crowd of people immediately

after witnessing any astonishing spectacle. If, together with surprise,

pain be felt, there is a tendency to contract all the muscles of the

body, including those of the face, and the lips will then be drawn

back; and this will perhaps account for the sound becoming higher and

assuming the character of _Ah!_ or _Ach!_ As fear causes all the

muscles of the body to tremble, the voice naturally becomes tremulous,

and at the same time husky from the dryness of the mouth, owing to the

salivary glands failing to act. Why the laughter of man and the

tittering of monkeys should be a rapidly reiterated sound, cannot be

explained. During the utterance of these sounds, the mouth is

transversely elongated by the corners being drawn backwards and

upwards; and of this fact an explanation will be attempted in a future

chapter. But the whole subject of the differences of the sounds

produced under different states of the mind is so obscure, that I have

succeeded in throwing hardly any light on it; and the remarks which I

have made, have but little significance.

Sound Producing Quills from Tail of a Porcupine. Fig. 11

All the sounds hitherto noticed depend on the respiratory organs; but

sounds produced by wholly different means are likewise expressive.

Rabbits stamp loudly on the ground as a signal to their comrades; and

if a man knows how to do so properly, he may on a quiet evening hear

the rabbits answering him all around. These animals, as well as some

others, also stamp on the ground when made angry. Porcupines rattle

their quills and vibrate their tails when angered; and one behaved in

this manner when a live snake was placed in its compartment. The quills

on the tail are very different from those on the body: they are short,

hollow, thin like a goose-quill, with their ends transversely

truncated, so that they are open; they are supported on long, thin,

elastic foot-stalks. Now, when the tail is rapidly shaken, these hollow

quills strike against each other and produce, as I heard in the

presence of Mr. Bartlett, a peculiar continuous sound. We can, I think,

understand why porcupines have been provided, through the modification

of their protective spines, with this special sound-producing

instrument. They are nocturnal animals, and if they scented or heard a

prowling beast of prey, it would be a great advantage to them in the

dark to give warning to their enemy what they were, and that they were

furnished with dangerous spines. They would thus escape being attacked.

They are, as I may add, so fully conscious of the power of their

weapons, that when enraged they will charge backwards with their spines

erected, yet still inclined backwards.

Many birds during their courtship produce diversified sounds by means

of specially adapted feathers. Storks, when excited, make a loud

clattering noise with their beaks. Some snakes produce a grating or

rattling noise. Many insects stridulate by rubbing together specially

modified parts of their hard integuments. This stridulation generally

serves as a sexual charm or call; but it is likewise used to express

different emotions.[408] Every one who has attended to bees knows that

their humming changes when they are angry; and this serves as a warning

that there is danger of being stung. I have made these few remarks

because some writers have laid so much stress on the vocal and

respiratory organs as having been specially adapted for expression,

that it was advisable to show that sounds otherwise produced serve

equally well for the same purpose.

_Erection of the dermal appendages_.—Hardly any expressive movement is

so general as the involuntary erection of the hairs, feathers and other

dermal appendages; for it is common throughout three of the great

vertebrate classes. These appendages are erected under the excitement

of anger or terror; more especially when these emotions are combined,

or quickly succeed each other. The action serves to make the animal

appear larger and more frightful to its enemies or rivals, and is

generally accompanied by various voluntary movements adapted for the

same purpose, and by the utterance of savage sounds. Mr. Bartlett, who

has had such wide experience with animals of all kinds, does not doubt

that this is the case; but it is a different question whether the power

of erection was primarily acquired for this special purpose.

I will first give a considerable body of facts showing how general this

action is with mammals, birds and reptiles; retaining what I have to

say in regard to man for a future chapter. Mr. Sutton, the intelligent

keeper in the Zoological Gardens, carefully observed for me the

Chimpanzee and Orang; and he states that when they are suddenly

frightened, as by a thunderstorm, or when they are made angry, as by

being teased, their hair becomes erect. I saw a chimpanzee who was

alarmed at the sight of a black coalheaver, and the hair rose all over

his body; he made little starts forward as if to attack the man,

without any real intention of doing so, but with the hope, as the

keeper remarked, of frightening him. The Gorilla, when enraged, is

described by Mr. Ford[409] as having his crest of hair “erect and

projecting forward, his nostrils dilated, and his under lip thrown

down; at the same time uttering his characteristic yell, designed, it

would seem, to terrify his antagonists.” I saw the hair on the Anubis

baboon, when angered bristling along the back, from the neck to the

loins, but not on the rump or other parts of the body. I took a stuffed

snake into the monkey-house, and the hair on several of the species

instantly became erect; especially on their tails, as I particularly

noticed with the _Cereopithecus nictitans_. Brehm states[410] that the

_Midas œdipus_ (belonging to the American division) when excited erects

its mane, in order, as he adds, to make itself as frightful as

possible.

With the Carnivora the erection of the hair seems to be almost

universal, often accompanied by threatening movements, the uncovering

of the teeth and the utterance of savage growls. In the Herpestes, I

have seen the hair on end over nearly the whole body, including the

tail; and the dorsal crest is erected in a conspicuous manner by the

Hyaena and Proteles. The enraged lion erects his mane. The bristling of

the hair along the neck and back of the dog, and over the whole body of

the cat, especially on the tail, is familiar to every one. With the cat

it apparently occurs only under fear; with the dog, under anger and

fear; but not, as far as I have observed, under abject fear, as when a

dog is going to be flogged by a severe gamekeeper. If, however, the dog

shows fight, as sometimes happens, up goes his hair. I have often

noticed that the hair of a dog is particularly liable to rise, if he is

half angry and half afraid, as on beholding some object only

indistinctly seen in the dusk.

I have been assured by a veterinary surgeon that he has often seen the

hair erected on horses and cattle, on which he had operated and was

again going to operate. When I showed a stuffed snake to a Peccary, the

hair rose in a wonderful manner along its back; and so it does with the

boar when enraged. An Elk which gored a man to death in the United

States, is described as first brandishing his antlers, squealing with

rage and stamping on the ground; “at length his hair was seen to rise

and stand on end,” and then he plunged forward to the attack.[411] The

hair likewise becomes erect on goats, and, as I hear from Mr. Blyth, on

some Indian antelopes. I have seen it erected on the hairy Ant-eater;

and on the Agouti, one of the Rodents. A female Bat,[412] which reared

her young under confinement, when any one looked into the cage “erected

the fur on her back, and bit viciously at intruding fingers.”

Birds belonging to all the chief Orders ruffle their feathers when

angry or frightened. Every one must have seen two cocks, even quite

young birds, preparing to fight with erected neck-hackles; nor can

these feathers when erected serve as a means of defence, for

cock-fighters have found by experience that it is advantageous to trim

them. The male Ruff (_Machetes pugnæ_) likewise erects its collar of

feathers when fighting. When a dog approaches a common hen with her

chickens, she spreads out her wings, raises her tail, ruffles all her

feathers, and looking as ferocious as possible, dashes at the intruder.

The tail is not always held in exactly the same position; it is

sometimes so much erected, that the central feathers, as in the

accompanying drawing, almost touch the back. Swans, when angered,

likewise raise their wings and tail, and erect their feathers. They

open their beaks, and make by paddling little rapid starts forwards,

against any one who approaches the water’s edge too closely. Tropic

birds[413] when disturbed on their nests are said not to fly away, but

“merely to stick out their feathers and scream.” The Barn-owl, when

approached “instantly swells out its plumage, extends its wings and

tail, hisses and clacks its mandibles with force and rapidity.”[414] So

do other kinds of owls. Hawks, as I am informed by Mr. Jenner Weir,

likewise ruffle their feathers, and spread out their wings and tail

under similar circumstances. Some kinds of parrots erect their

feathers; and I have seen this action in the Cassowary, when angered at

the sight of an Ant-eater. Young cuckoos in the nest, raise their

feathers, open their mouths widely, and make themselves as frightful as

possible.

Hen Driving Away a Dog from Her Chickens. Fig. 12

{illust. caption = FIG. 12—Hen driving away a dog from her chickens.

Drawn from life by Mr. Wood.}

Swan Driving Away an Intruder. Fig 13

{illust. caption = FIG. 13.—Swan driving away an intruder. Drawn from

life by Mr. Wood.}

Small birds, also, as I hear from Mr. Weir, such as various finches,

buntings and warblers, when angry, ruffle all their feathers, or only

those round the neck; or they spread out their wings and tail-feathers.

With their plumage in this state, they rush at each other with open

beaks and threatening gestures. Mr. Weir concludes from his large

experience that the erection of the feathers is caused much more by

anger than by fear. He gives as an instance a hybrid goldfinch of a

most irascible disposition, which when approached too closely by a

servant, instantly assumes the appearance of a ball of ruffled

feathers. He believes that birds when frightened, as a general rule,

closely adpress all their feathers, and their consequently diminished

size is often astonishing. As soon as they recover from their fear or

surprise, the first thing which they do is to shake out their feathers.

The best instances of this adpression of the feathers and apparent

shrinking of the body from fear, which Mr. Weir has noticed, has been

in the quail and grass-parrakeet.[415] The habit is intelligible in

these birds from their being accustomed, when in danger, either to

squat on the ground or to sit motionless on a branch, so as to escape

detection. Though, with birds, anger may be the chief and commonest

cause of the erection of the feathers, it is probable that young

cuckoos when looked at in the nest, and a hen with her chickens when

approached by a dog, feel at least some terror. Mr. Tegetmeier informs

me that with game-cocks, the erection of the feathers on the head has

long been recognized in the cock-pit as a sign of cowardice.

The males of some lizards, when fighting together during their

courtship, expand their throat pouches or frills, and erect their

dorsal crests.[416] But Dr. Günther does not believe that they can

erect their separate spines or scales.

We thus see how generally throughout the two higher vertebrate classes,

and with some reptiles, the dermal appendages are erected under the

influence of anger and fear. The movement is effected, as we know from

Kolliker’s interesting discovery, by the contraction of minute,

unstriped, involuntary muscles,[417] often called _arrectores pili_,

which are attached to the capsules of the separate hairs, feathers, &c.

By the contraction of these muscles the hairs can be instantly erected,

as we see in a dog, being at the same time drawn a little out of their

sockets; they are afterwards quickly depressed. The vast number of

these minute muscles over the whole body of a hairy quadruped is

astonishing. The erection of the hair is, however, aided in some cases,

as with that on the head of a man, by the striped and voluntary muscles

of the underlying _panniculus carnosus_. It is by the action of these

latter muscles, that the hedgehog erects its spines. It appears, also,

from the researches of Leydig[418] and others, that striped fibres

extend from the panniculus to some of the larger hairs, such as the

vibrissae of certain quadrupeds. The _arrectores pili_ contract not

only under the above emotions, but from the application of cold to the

surface. I remember that my mules and dogs, brought from a lower and

warmer country, after spending a night on the bleak Cordillera, had the

hair all over their bodies as erect as under the greatest terror. We

see the same action in our own _goose-skin_ during the chill before a

fever-fit. Mr. Lister has also found,[419] that tickling a neighbouring

part of the skin causes the erection and protrusion of the hairs.

From these facts it is manifest that the erection of the dermal

appendages is a reflex action, independent of the will; and this action

must be looked at, when, occurring under the influence of anger or

fear, not as a power acquired for the sake of some advantage, but as an

incidental result, at least to a large extent, of the sensorium being

affected. The result, in as far as it is incidental, may be compared

with the profuse sweating from an agony of pain or terror.

Nevertheless, it is remarkable how slight an excitement often suffices

to cause the hair to become erect; as when two dogs pretend to fight

together in play. We have, also, seen in a large number of animals,

belonging to widely distinct classes, that the erection of the hair or

feathers is almost always accompanied by various voluntary movements—by

threatening gestures, opening the mouth, uncovering the teeth,

spreading out of the wings and tail by birds, and by the utterance of

harsh sounds; and the purpose of these voluntary movements is

unmistakable. Therefore it seems hardly credible that the co-ordinated

erection of the dermal appendages, by which the animal is made to

appear larger and more terrible to its enemies or rivals, should be

altogether an incidental and purposeless result of the disturbance of

the sensorium. This seems almost as incredible as that the erection by

the hedgehog of its spines, or of the quills by the porcupine, or of

the ornamental plumes by many birds during their courtship, should all

be purposeless actions.

We here encounter a great difficulty. How can the contraction of the

unstriped and involuntary _arrectores pili_ have been co-ordinated with

that of various voluntary muscles for the same special purpose? If we

could believe that the arrectores primordially had been voluntary

muscles, and had since lost their stripes and become involuntary, the

case would be comparatively simple. I am not, however, aware that there

is any evidence in favour of this view; although the reversed

transition would not have presented any great difficulty, as the

voluntary muscles are in an unstriped condition in the embryos of the

higher animals, and in the larvae of some crustaceans. Moreover in the

deeper layers of the skin of adult birds, the muscular network is,

according to Leydig,[420] in a transitional condition; the fibres

exhibiting only indications of transverse striation.

Another explanation seems possible. We may admit that originally the

_arrectores pili_ were slightly acted on in a direct manner, under the

influence of rage and terror, by the disturbance of the nervous system;

as is undoubtedly the case with our so-called _goose-skin_ before a

fever-fit. Animals have been repeatedly excited by rage and terror

during many generations; and consequently the direct effects of the

disturbed nervous system on the dermal appendages will almost certainly

have been increased through habit and through the tendency of

nerve-force to pass readily along accustomed channels. We shall find

this view of the force of habit strikingly confirmed in a future

chapter, where it will be shown that the hair of the insane is affected

in an extraordinary manner, owing to their repeated accesses of fury

and terror. As soon as with animals the power of erection had thus been

strengthened or increased, they must often have seen the hairs or

feathers erected in rival and enraged males, and the bulk of their

bodies thus increased. In this case it appears possible that they might

have wished to make themselves appear larger and more terrible to their

enemies, by voluntarily assuming a threatening attitude and uttering

harsh cries; such attitudes and utterances after a time becoming

through habit instinctive. In this manner actions performed by the

contraction of voluntary muscles might have been combined for the same

special purpose with those effected by involuntary muscles. It is even

possible that animals, when excited and dimly conscious of some change

in the state of their hair, might act on it by repeated exertions of

their attention and will; for we have reason to believe that the will

is able to influence in an obscure manner the action of some unstriped

or involuntary muscles, as in the period of the peristaltic movements

of the intestines, and in the contraction of the bladder. Nor must we

overlook the part which variation and natural selection may have

played; for the males which succeeded in making themselves appear the

most terrible to their rivals, or to their other enemies, if not of

overwhelming power, will on an average have left more offspring to

inherit their characteristic qualities, whatever these may be and

however first acquired, than have other males.

_The inflation of the body, and other means of exciting fear in an

enemy_.—Certain Amphibians and Reptiles, which either have no spines to

erect, or no muscles by which they can be erected, enlarge themselves

when alarmed or angry by inhaling air. This is well known to be the

case with toads and frogs. The latter animal is made, in AEsop’s fable

of the ‘Ox and the Frog,’ to blow itself up from vanity and envy until

it burst. This action must have been observed during the most ancient

times, as, according to Mr. Hensleigh Wedgwood,[421] the word _toad_

expresses in all the languages of Europe the habit of swelling. It has

been observed with some of the exotic species in the Zoological

Gardens; and Dr. Günther believes that it is general throughout the

group. Judging from analogy, the primary purpose probably was to make

the body appear as large and frightful as possible to an enemy; but

another, and perhaps more important secondary advantage is thus gained.

When frogs are seized by snakes, which are their chief enemies, they

enlarge themselves wonderfully; so that if the snake be of small size,

as Dr. Günther informs me, it cannot swallow the frog, which thus

escapes being devoured.

Chameleons and some other lizards inflate themselves when angry. Thus a

species inhabiting Oregon, the _Tapaya Douglasii_, is slow in its

movements and does not bite, but has a ferocious aspect; “when

irritated it springs in a most threatening manner at anything pointed

at it, at the same time opening its mouth wide and hissing audibly,

after which it inflates its body, and shows other marks of anger.”[422]

Several kinds of snakes likewise inflate themselves when irritated. The

puff-adder (_Clotho arietans_) is remarkable in this respect; but I

believe, after carefully watching these animals, that they do not act

thus for the sake of increasing their apparent bulk, but simply for

inhaling a large supply of air, so as to produce their surprisingly

loud, harsh, and prolonged hissing sound. The Cobras-de-capello, when

irritated, enlarge themselves a little, and hiss moderately; but, at

the same time they lift their heads aloft, and dilate by means of their

elongated anterior ribs, the skin on each side of the neck into a large

flat disk,—the so-called hood. With their widely opened mouths, they

then assume a terrific aspect. The benefit thus derived ought to be

considerable, in order to compensate for the somewhat lessened rapidity

(though this is still great) with which, when dilated, they can strike

at their enemies or prey; on the same principle that a broad, thin

piece of wood cannot be moved through the air so quickly as a small

round stick. An innocuous snake, the _Trovidonotus macrophthalmus_, an

inhabitant of India, likewise dilates its neck when irritated; and

consequently is often mistaken for its compatriot, the deadly

Cobra.[423] This resemblance perhaps serves as some protection to the

Tropidonotus. Another innocuous species, the Dasypeltis of South

Africa, blows itself out, distends its neck, hisses and darts at an

intruder.[424] Many other snakes hiss under similar circumstances. They

also rapidly vibrate their protruded tongues; and this may aid in

increasing their terrific appearance.

Snakes possess other means of producing sounds besides hissing. Many

years ago I observed in South America that a venomous Trigonocephalus,

when disturbed, rapidly vibrated the end of its tail, which striking

against the dry grass and twigs produced a rattling noise that could be

distinctly heard at the distance of six feet.[425] The deadly and

fierce _Echis carinata_ of India produces “a curious prolonged, almost

hissing sound in a very different manner, namely by rubbing the sides

of the folds of its body against each other,” whilst the head remains

in almost the same position. The scales on the sides, and not on other

parts of the body, are strongly keeled, with the keels toothed like a

saw; and as the coiled-up animal rubs its sides together, these grate

against each other.[426] Lastly, we have the well-known case of the

Rattle-snake. He who has merely shaken the rattle of a dead snake, can

form no just idea of the sound produced by the living animal. Professor

Shaler states that it is indistinguishable from that made by the male

of a large Cicada (an Homopterous insect), which inhabits the same

district.[427] In the Zoological Gardens, when the rattle-snakes and

puff-adders were greatly excited at the same time, I was much struck at

the similarity of the sound produced by them; and although that made by

the rattle-snake is louder and shriller than the hissing of the

puff-adder, yet when standing at some yards distance I could scarcely

distinguish the two. For whatever purpose the sound is produced by the

one species, I can hardly doubt that it serves for the same purpose in

the other species; and I conclude from the threatening gestures made at

the same time by many snakes, that their hissing,—the rattling of the

rattle-snake and of the tail of the Trigonocephalus,—the grating of the

scales of the Echis,—and the dilatation of the hood of the Cobra,—all

subserve the same end, namely, to make them appear terrible to their

enemies.[428]

It seems at first a probable conclusion that venomous snakes, such as

the foregoing, from being already so well defended by their

poison-fangs, would never be attacked by any enemy; and consequently

would have no need to excite additional terror. But this is far from

being the case, for they are largely preyed on in all quarters of the

world by many animals. It is well known that pigs are employed in the

United States to clear districts infested with rattle-snakes, which

they do most effectually.[429] In England the hedgehog attacks and

devours the viper. In India, as I hear from Dr. Jerdon, several kinds

of hawks, and at least one mammal, the Herpestes, kill cobras and other

venomous species;[430] and so it is in South Africa. Therefore it is by

no means improbable that any sounds or signs by which the venomous

species could instantly make themselves recognized as dangerous, would

be of more service to them than to the innocuous species which would

not be able, if attacked, to inflict any real injury.

Having said thus much about snakes, I am tempted to add a few remarks

on the means by which the rattle of the rattle-snake was probably

developed. Various animals, including some lizards, either curl or

vibrate their tails when excited. This is the case with many kinds of

snakes.[431] In the Zoological Gardens, an innocuous species, the

_Coronella Sayi_, vibrates its tail so rapidly that it becomes almost

invisible. The Trigonocephalus, before alluded to, has the same habit;

and the extremity of its tail is a little enlarged, or ends in a bead.

In the Lachesis, which is so closely allied to the rattle-snake that it

was placed by Linnaeus in the same genus, the tail ends in a single,

large, lancet-shaped point or scale. With some snakes the skin, as

Professor Shaler remarks, “is more imperfectly detached from the region

about the tail than at other parts of the body.” Now if we suppose that

the end of the tail of some ancient American species was enlarged, and

was covered by a single large scale, this could hardly have been cast

off at the successive moults. In this case it would have been

permanently retained, and at each period of growth, as the snake grew

larger, a new scale, larger than the last, would have been formed above

it, and would likewise have been retained. The foundation for the

development of a rattle would thus have been laid; and it would have

been habitually used, if the species, like so many others, vibrated its

tail whenever it was irritated. That the rattle has since been

specially developed to serve as an efficient sound-producing

instrument, there can hardly be a doubt; for even the vertebrae

included within the extremity of the tail have been altered in shape

and cohere. But there is no greater improbability in various

structures, such as the rattle of the rattle-snake,—the lateral scales

of the Echis,—the neck with the included ribs of the Cobra,—and the

whole body of the puff-adder,—having been modified for the sake of

warning and frightening away their enemies, than in a bird, namely, the

wonderful Secretary-hawk (_Gypogeranus_) having had its whole frame

modified for the sake of killing snakes with impunity. It is highly

probable, judging from what we have before seen, that this bird would

ruffle its feathers whenever it attacked a snake; and it is certain

that the Herpestes, when it eagerly rushes to attack a snake, erects

the hair all over its body, and especially that on its tail.[432] We

have also seen that some porcupines, when angered or alarmed at the

sight of a snake, rapidly vibrate their tails, thus producing a

peculiar sound by the striking together of the hollow quills. So that

here both the attackers and the attacked endeavour to make themselves

as dreadful as possible to each other; and both possess for this

purpose specialised means, which, oddly enough, are nearly the same in

some of these cases. Finally we can see that if, on the one hand, those

individual snakes, which were best able to frighten away their enemies,

escaped best from being devoured; and if, on the other hand, those

individuals of the attacking enemy survived in larger numbers which

were the best fitted for the dangerous task of killing and devouring

venomous snakes;—then in the one case as in the other, beneficial

variations, supposing the characters in question to vary, would

commonly have been preserved through the survival of the fittest.

_The Drawing back and pressure of the Ears to the Head_.—The ears

through their movements are highly expressive in many animals; but in

some, such as man, the higher apes, and many ruminants, they fail in

this respect. A slight difference in position serves to express in the

plainest manner a different state of mind, as we may daily see in the

dog; but we are here concerned only with the ears being drawn closely

backwards and pressed to the head. A savage frame of mind is thus

shown, but only in the case of those animals which fight with their

teeth; and the care which they take to prevent their ears being seized

by their antagonists, accounts for this position. Consequently, through

habit and association, whenever they feel slightly savage, or pretend

in their play to be savage, their ears are drawn back. That this is the

true explanation may be inferred from the relation which exists in very

many animals between their manner of fighting and the retraction of

their ears.

All the Carnivora fight with their canine teeth, and all, as far as I

have observed, draw their ears back when feeling savage. This may be

continually seen with dogs when fighting in earnest, and with puppies

fighting in play. The movement is different from the falling down and

slight drawing back of the ears, when a dog feels pleased and is

caressed by his master. The retraction of the ears may likewise be seen

in kittens fighting together in their play, and in full-grown cats when

really savage, as before illustrated in fig. 9 (p. 58). Although their

ears are thus to a large extent protected, yet they often get much torn

in old male cats during their mutual battles. The same movement is very

striking in tigers, leopards, &c., whilst growling over their food in

menageries. The lynx has remarkably long ears; and their retraction,

when one of these animals is approached in its cage, is very

conspicuous, and is eminently expressive of its savage disposition.

Even one of the Eared Seals, the _Otariapusilla_, which has very small

ears, draws them backwards, when it makes a savage rush at the legs of

its keeper.

When horses fight together they use their incisors for biting, and

their fore-legs for striking, much more than they do their hind-legs

for kicking backwards. This has been observed when stallions have

broken loose and have fought together, and may likewise be inferred

from the kind of wounds which they inflict on each other. Every one

recognizes the vicious appearance which the drawing back of the ears

gives to a horse. This movement is very different from that of

listening to a sound behind. If an ill-tempered horse in a stall is

inclined to kick backwards, his ears are retracted from habit, though

he has no intention or power to bite. But when a horse throws up both

hind-legs in play, as when entering an open field, or when just touched

by the whip, he does not generally depress his ears, for he does not

then feel vicious. Guanacoes fight savagely with their teeth; and they

must do so frequently, for I found the hides of several which I shot in

Patagonia deeply scored. So do camels; and both these animals, when

savage, draw their ears closely backwards. Guanacoes, as I have

noticed, when not intending to bite, but merely to spit their offensive

saliva from a distance at an intruder, retract their ears. Even the

hippopotamus, when threatening with its widely-open enormous mouth a

comrade, draws back its small ears, just like a horse.

Now what a contrast is presented between the foregoing animals and

cattle, sheep, or goats, which never use their teeth in fighting, and

never draw back their ears when enraged! Although sheep and goats

appear such placid animals, the males often join in furious contests.

As deer form a closely related family, and as I did not know that they

ever fought with their teeth, I was much surprised at the account given

by Major Ross King of the Moose-deer in Canada. He says, when“two males

chance to meet, laying back their ears and gnashing their teeth

together, they rush at each other with appalling fury.”[433] But Mr.

Bartlett informs me that some species of deer fight savagely with their

teeth, so that the drawing back of the ears by the moose accords with

our rule. Several kinds of kangaroos, kept in the Zoological Gardens,

fight by scratching with their fore-feet and by kicking with their

hind-legs; but they never bite each other, and the keepers have never

seen them draw back their ears when angered. Rabbits fight chiefly by

kicking and scratching, but they likewise bite each other; and I have

known one to bite off half the tail of its antagonist. At the

commencement of their battles they lay back their ears, but afterwards,

as they bound over and kick each other, they keep their ears erect, or

move them much about.

Mr. Bartlett watched a wild boar quarrelling rather savagely with his

sow; and both had their mouths open and their ears drawn backwards. But

this does not appear to be a common action with domestic pigs when

quarrelling. Boars fight together by striking upwards with their tusks;

and Mr. Bartlett doubts whether they then draw back their ears.

Elephants, which in like manner fight with their tusks, do not retract

their ears, but, on the contrary, erect them when rushing at each other

or at an enemy.

The rhinoceroses in the Zoological Gardens fight with their nasal

horns, and have never been seen to attempt biting each other except in

play; and the keepers are convinced that they do not draw back their

ears, like horses and dogs, when feeling savage. The following

statement, therefore, by Sir S. Baker[434] is inexplicable, namely,

that a rhinoceros, which he shot in North Africa, “had no ears; they

had been bitten off close to the head by another of the same species

while fighting; and this mutilation is by no means uncommon.”

Lastly, with respect to monkeys. Some kinds, which have moveable ears,

and which fight with their teeth—for instance the _Cereopithecus

ruber_—draw back their ears when irritated just like dogs; and they

then have a very spiteful appearance. Other kinds, as the _Inuus

ecaudatus_, apparently do not thus act. Again, other kinds—and this is

a great anomaly in comparison with most other animals—retract their

ears, show their teeth, and jabber, when they are pleased by being

caressed. I observed this in two or three species of Macacus, and in

the _Cynopithecus niger_. This expression, owing to our familiarity

with dogs, would never be recognized as one of joy or pleasure by those

unacquainted with monkeys.

_Erection of the Ears_.—This movement requires hardly any notice. All

animals which have the power of freely moving their ears, when they are

startled, or when they closely observe any object, direct their ears to

the point towards which they are looking, in order to hear any sound

from this quarter. At the same time they generally raise their heads,

as all their organs of sense are there situated, and some of the

smaller animals rise on their hind-legs. Even those kinds which squat

on the ground or instantly flee away to avoid danger, generally act

momentarily in this manner, in order to ascertain the source and nature

of the danger. The head being raised, with erected ears and eyes

directed forwards, gives an unmistakable expression of close attention

to any animal.

CHAPTER V. SPECIAL EXPRESSIONS OF ANIMALS.

The Dog, various expressive movements of—Cats—Horses—Ruminants—Monkeys,

their expression of joy and affection—Of pain—Anger—Astonishment and

Terror.

_The Dog_.—I have already described (figs. 5 and 7) the appearance of a

dog approaching another dog with hostile intentions, namely, with

erected ears, eyes intently directed forwards, hair on the neck and

back bristling, gait remarkably stiff, with the tail upright and rigid.

So familiar is this appearance to us, that an angry man is sometimes

said “to have his back up.” Of the above points, the stiff gait and

upright tail alone require further discussion. Sir C. Bell remarks[501]

that, when a tiger or wolf is struck by its keeper and is suddenly

roused to ferocity, every muscle is in tension, and the limbs are in an

attitude of strained exertion, prepared to spring. This tension of the

muscles and consequent stiff gait may be accounted for on the principle

of associated habit, for anger has continually led to fierce struggles,

and consequently to all the muscles of the body having been violently

exerted. There is also reason to suspect that the muscular system

requires some short preparation, or some degree of innervation, before

being brought into strong action. My own sensations lead me to this

inference; but I cannot discover that it is a conclusion admitted by

physiologists. Sir J. Paget, however, informs me that when muscles are

suddenly contracted with the greatest force, without any preparation,

they are liable to be ruptured, as when a man slips unexpectedly; but

that this rarely occurs when an action, however violent, is

deliberately performed.

With respect to the upright position of the tail, it seems to depend

(but whether this is really the case I know not) on the elevator

muscles being more powerful than the depressors, so that when all the

muscles of the hinder part of the body are in a state of tension, the

tail is raised. A dog in cheerful spirits, and trotting before his

master with high, elastic steps, generally carries his tail aloft,

though it is not held nearly so stiffly as when he is angered. A horse

when first turned out into an open field, may be seen to trot with long

elastic strides, the head and tail being held high aloft. Even cows

when they frisk about from pleasure, throw up their tails in a

ridiculous fashion. So it is with various animals in the Zoological

Gardens. The position of the tail, however, in certain cases, is

determined by special circumstances; thus as soon as a horse breaks

into a gallop, at full speed, he always lowers his tail, so that as

little resistance as possible may be offered to the air.

When a dog is on the point of springing on his antagonist, he utters a

savage growl; the ears are pressed closely backwards, and the upper lip

(fig. 14) is retracted out of the way of his teeth, especially of his

canines. These movements may be observed with dogs and puppies in their

play. But if a dog gets really savage in his play, his expression

immediately changes. This, however, is simply due to the lips and ears

being drawn back with much greater energy. If a dog only snarls at

another, the lip is generally retracted on one side alone, namely

towards his enemy.

Head of Snarling Dog. Fig 14

{illust. caption = FIG. 14.—Head of snarling Dog. From life, by Mr.

Wood.

The movements of a dog whilst exhibiting affection towards his master

were described (figs. 6 and 8) in our second chapter. These consist in

the head and whole body being lowered and thrown into flexuous

movements, with the tail extended and wagged from side to side. The

ears fall down and are drawn somewhat backwards, which causes the

eyelids to be elongated, and alters the whole appearance of the face.

The lips hang loosely, and the hair remains smooth. All these movements

or gestures are explicable, as I believe, from their standing in

complete antithesis to those naturally assumed by a savage dog under a

directly opposite state of mind. When a man merely speaks to, or just

notices, his dog, we see the last vestige of these movements in a

slight wag of the tail, without any other movement of the body, and

without even the ears being lowered. Dogs also exhibit their affection

by desiring to rub against their masters, and to be rubbed or patted by

them.

Gratiolet explains the above gestures of affection in the following

manner: and the reader can judge whether the explanation appears

satisfactory. Speaking of animals in general, including the dog, he

says,[502] “C’est toujours la partie la plus sensible de leurs corps

qui recherche les caresses ou les donne. Lorsque toute la longueur des

flancs et du corps est sensible, l’animal serpente et rampe sous les

caresses; et ces ondulations se propageant le long des muscles

analogues des segments jusqu’aux extrémités de la colonne vertébrale,

la queue se ploie et s’agite.” Further on, he adds, that dogs, when

feeling affectionate, lower their ears in order to exclude all sounds,

so that their whole attention may be concentrated on the caresses of

their master!

Dogs have another and striking way of exhibiting their affection,

namely, by licking the hands or faces of their masters. They sometimes

lick other dogs, and then it is always their chops. I have also seen

dogs licking cats with whom they were friends. This habit probably

originated in the females carefully licking their puppies—the dearest

object of their love—for the sake of cleansing them. They also often

give their puppies, after a short absence, a few cursory licks,

apparently from affection. Thus the habit will have become associated

with the emotion of love, however it may afterwards be aroused. It is

now so firmly inherited or innate, that it is transmitted equally to

both sexes. A female terrier of mine lately had her puppies destroyed,

and though at all times a very affectionate creature, I was much struck

with the manner in which she then tried to satisfy her instinctive

maternal love by expending it on me; and her desire to lick my hands

rose to an insatiable passion.

The same principle probably explains why dogs, when feeling

affectionate, like rubbing against their masters and being rubbed or

patted by them, for from the nursing of their puppies, contact with a

beloved object has become firmly associated in their minds with the

emotion of love.

The feeling of affection of a dog towards his master is combined with a

strong sense of submission, which is akin to fear. Hence dogs not only

lower their bodies and crouch a little as they approach their masters,

but sometimes throw themselves on the ground with their bellies

upwards. This is a movement as completely opposite as is possible to

any show of resistance. I formerly possessed a large dog who was not at

all afraid to fight with other dogs; but a wolf-like shepherd-dog in

the neighbourhood, though not ferocious and not so powerful as my dog,

had a strange influence over him. When they met on the road, my dog

used to run to meet him, with his tail partly tucked in between his

legs and hair not erected; and then he would throw himself on the

ground, belly upwards. By this action he seemed to say more plainly

than by words, “Behold, I am your slave.”

A pleasurable and excited state of mind, associated with affection, is

exhibited by some dogs in a very peculiar manner, namely, by grinning.

This was noticed long ago by Somerville, who says,

“And with a courtly grin, the fawning hound

Salutes thee cow’ring, his wide op’ning nose

Upward he curls, and his large sloe-back eyes

Melt in soft blandishments, and humble joy.”

_The Chase_, book i.

Sir W. Scott’s famous Scotch greyhound, Maida, had this habit, and it

is common with terriers. I have also seen it in a Spitz and in a

sheep-dog. Mr. Riviere, who has particularly attended to this

expression, informs me that it is rarely displayed in a perfect manner,

but is quite common in a lesser degree. The upper lip during the act of

grinning is retracted, as in snarling, so that the canines are exposed,

and the ears are drawn backwards; but the general appearance of the

animal clearly shows that anger is not felt. Sir C. Bell[503] remarks

“Dogs, in their expression of fondness, have a slight eversion of the

lips, and grin and sniff amidst their gambols, in a way that resembles

laughter.” Some persons speak of the grin as a smile, but if it had

been really a smile, we should see a similar, though more pronounced,

movement of the lips and ears, when dogs utter their bark of joy; but

this is not the case, although a bark of joy often follows a grin. On

the other hand, dogs, when playing with their comrades or masters,

almost always pretend to bite each other; and they then retract, though

not energetically, their lips and ears. Hence I suspect that there is a

tendency in some dogs, whenever they feel lively pleasure combined with

affection, to act through habit and association on the same muscles, as

in playfully biting each other, or their masters’ hands.

I have described, in the second chapter, the gait and appearance of a

dog when cheerful, and the marked antithesis presented by the same

animal when dejected and disappointed, with his head, ears, body, tail,

and chops drooping, and eyes dull. Under the expectation of any great

pleasure, dogs bound and jump about in an extravagant manner, and bark

for joy. The tendency to bark under this state of mind is inherited, or

runs in the breed: greyhounds rarely bark, whilst the Spitz-dog barks

so incessantly on starting for a walk with his master that he becomes a

nuisance.

An agony of pain is expressed by dogs in nearly the same way as by many

other animals, namely, by howling writhing, and contortions of the

whole body.

Attention is shown by the head being raised, with the ears erected, and

eyes intently directed towards the object or quarter under observation.

If it be a sound and the source is not known, the head is often turned

obliquely from side to side in a most significant manner, apparently in

order to judge with more exactness from what point the sound proceeds.

But I have seen a dog greatly surprised at a new noise, turning, his

head to one side through habit, though he clearly perceived the source

of the noise. Dogs, as formerly remarked, when their attention is in

any way aroused, whilst watching some object, or attending to some

sound, often lift up one paw (fig. 4) and keep it doubled up, as if to

make a slow and stealthy approach.

A dog under extreme terror will throw himself down, howl, and void his

excretions; but the hair, I believe, does not become erect unless some

anger is felt. I have seen a dog much terrified at a band of musicians

who were playing loudly outside the house, with every muscle of his

body trembling, with his heart palpitating so quickly that the beats

could hardly be counted, and panting for breath with widely open mouth,

in the same manner as a terrified man does. Yet this dog had not

exerted himself; he had only wandered slowly and restlessly about the

room, and the day was cold.

Even a very slight degree of fear is invariably shown by the tail being

tucked in between the legs. This tucking in of the fail is accompanied

by the ears being drawn backwards; but they are not pressed closely to

the head, as in snarling, and they are not lowered, as when a dog is

pleased or affectionate. When two young dogs chase each other in play,

the one that runs away always keeps his tail tucked inwards. So it is

when a dog, in the highest spirits, careers like a mad creature round

and round his master in circles, or in figures of eight. He then acts

as if another dog were chasing him. This curious kind of play, which

must be familiar to every one who has attended to dogs, is particularly

apt to be excited, after the animal has been a little startled or

frightened, as by his master suddenly jumping out on him in the dusk.

In this case, as well as when two young dogs are chasing each other in

play, it appears as if the one that runs away was afraid of the other

catching him by the tail; but as far as I can find out, dogs very

rarely catch each other in this manner. I asked a gentleman, who had

kept foxhounds all his life, and he applied to other experienced

sportsmen, whether they had ever seen hounds thus seize a fox; but they

never had. It appears that when a dog is chased, or when in danger of

being struck behind, or of anything falling on him, in all these cases

he wishes to withdraw as quickly as possible his whole hind-quarters,

and that from some sympathy or connection between the muscles, the tail

is then drawn closely inwards.

A similarly connected movement between the hind-quarters and the tail

may be observed in the hyaena. Mr. Bartlett informs me that when two of

these animals fight together, they are mutually conscious of the

wonderful power of each other’s jaws, and are extremely cautious. They

well know that if one of their legs were seized, the bone would

instantly be crushed into atoms; hence they approach each other

kneeling, with their legs turned as much as possible inwards, and with

their whole bodies bowed, so as not to present any salient point; the

tail at the same time being closely tucked in between the legs. In this

attitude they approach each other sideways, or even partly backwards.

So again with deer, several of the species, when savage and fighting,

tuck in their tails. When one horse in a field tries to bite the

hind-quarters of another in play, or when a rough boy strikes a donkey

from behind, the hind-quarters and the tail are drawn in, though it

does not appear as if this were done merely to save the tail from being

injured. We have also seen the reverse of these movements; for when an

animal trots with high elastic steps, the tail is almost always carried

aloft.

As I have said, when a dog is chased and runs away, he keeps his ears

directed backwards but still open; and this is clearly done for the

sake of hearing the footsteps of his pursuer. From habit the ears are

often held in this same position, and the tail tucked in, when the

danger is obviously in front. I have repeatedly noticed, with a timid

terrier of mine, that when she is afraid of some object in front, the

nature of which she perfectly knows and does not need to reconnoitre,

yet she will for a long time hold her ears and tail in this position,

looking the image of discomfort. Discomfort, without any fear, is

similarly expressed: thus, one day I went out of doors, just at the

time when this same dog knew that her dinner would be brought. I did

not call her, but she wished much to accompany me, and at the same time

she wished much for her dinner; and there she stood, first looking one

way and then the other, with her tail tucked in and ears drawn back,

presenting an unmistakable appearance of perplexed discomfort.

Almost all the expressive movements now described, with the exception

of the grinning from joy, are innate or instinctive, for they are

common to all the individuals, young and old, of all the breeds. Most

of them are likewise common to the aboriginal parents of the dog,

namely the wolf and jackal; and some of them to other species of the

same group. Tamed wolves and jackals, when caressed by their masters,

jump about for joy, wag their tails, lower their ears, lick their

master’s hands, crouch down, and even throw themselves on the ground

belly upwards.[504] I have seen a rather fox-like African jackal, from

the Gaboon, depress its ears when caressed. Wolves and jackals, when

frightened, certainly tuck in their tails; and a tamed jackal has been

described as careering round his master in circles and figures of

eight, like a dog, with his tail between his legs.

It has been stated[505] that foxes, however tame, never display any of

the above expressive movements; but this is not strictly accurate. Many

years ago I observed in the Zoological Gardens, and recorded the fact

at the time, that a very tame English fox, When caressed by the keeper,

wagged its tail, depressed its ears, and then threw itself on the

ground, belly upwards. The black fox of North America likewise

depressed its ears in a slight degree. But I believe that foxes never

lick the hands of their masters, and I have been assured that when

frightened they never tuck in their tails. If the explanation which I

have given of the expression of affection in dogs be admitted, then it

would appear that animals which have never been domesticated—namely

wolves, jackals, and even foxes—have nevertheless acquired, through the

principle of antithesis, certain expressive gestures; for it is not

probable that these animals, confined in cages, should have learnt them

by imitating dogs.

_Cats_.—I have already described the actions of a cat (fig. 9), when

feeling savage and not terrified. She assumes a crouching attitude and

occasionally protrudes her fore-feet, with the claws exserted ready for

striking. The tail is extended, being curled or lashed from side to

side. The hair is not erected—at least it was not so in the few cases

observed by me. The ears are drawn closely backwards and the teeth are

shown. Low savage growls are uttered. We can understand why the

attitude assumed by a cat when preparing to fight with another cat, or

in any way greatly irritated, is so widely different from that of a dog

approaching another dog with hostile intentions; for the cat uses her

fore-feet for striking, and this renders a crouching position

convenient or necessary. She is also much more accustomed than a dog to

lie concealed and suddenly spring on her prey. No cause can be assigned

with certainty for the tail being lashed or curled from side to side.

This habit is common to many other animals—for instance, to the puma,

when prepared to spring;[506] but it is not common to dogs, or to

foxes, as I infer from Mr. St. John’s account of a fox lying in wait

and seizing a hare. We have already seen that some kinds of lizards and

various snakes, when excited, rapidly vibrate the tips of their tails.

It would appear as if, under strong excitement, there existed an

uncontrollable desire for movement of some kind, owing to nerve-force

being freely liberated from the excited sensorium; and that as the tail

is left free, and as its movement does not disturb the general position

of the body, it is curled or lashed about.

All the movements of a cat, when feeling affectionate, are in complete

antithesis to those just described. She now stands upright, with

slightly arched back, tail perpendicularly raised, and ears erected;

and she rubs her cheeks and flanks against her master or mistress. The

desire to rub something is so strong in cats under this state of mind,

that they may often be seen rubbing themselves against the legs of

chairs or tables, or against door-posts. This manner of expressing

affection probably originated through association, as in the case of

dogs, from the mother nursing and fondling her young; and perhaps from

the young themselves loving each other and playing together. Another

and very different gesture, expressive of pleasure, has already been

described, namely, the curious manner in which young and even old cats,

when pleased, alternately protrude their fore-feet, with separated

toes, as if pushing against and sucking their mother’s teats. This

habit is so far analogous to that of rubbing against something, that

both apparently are derived from actions performed during the nursing

period. Why cats should show affection by rubbing so much more than do

dogs, though the latter delight in contact with their masters, and why

cats only occasionally lick the hands of their friends, whilst dogs

always do so, I cannot say. Cats cleanse themselves by licking their

own coats more regularly than do dogs. On the other hand, their tongues

seem less well fitted for the work than the longer and more flexible

tongues of dogs.

Cat Terrified at a Dog. Fig.15

Cats, when terrified, stand at full height, and arch their backs in a

well-known and ridiculous fashion. They spit, hiss, or growl. The hair

over the whole body, and especially on the tail, becomes erect. In the

instances observed by me the basal part of the tail was held upright,

the terminal part being thrown on one side; but sometimes the tail (see

fig. 15) is only a little raised, and is bent almost from the base to

one side. The ears are drawn back, and the teeth exposed. When two

kittens are playing together, the one often thus tries to frighten the

other. From what we have seen in former chapters, all the above points

of expression are intelligible, except the extreme arching of the back.

I am inclined to believe that, in the same manner as many birds, whilst

they ruffle their feathers, spread out their wings and tail, to make

themselves look as big as possible, so cats stand upright at their full

height, arch their backs, often raise the basal part of the tail, and

erect their hair, for the same purpose. The lynx, when attacked, is

said to arch its back, and is thus figured by Brehm. But the keepers in

the Zoological Gardens have never seen any tendency to this action in

the larger feline animals, such as tigers, lions, &c.; and these have

little cause to be afraid of any other animal.

Cats use their voices much as a means of expression, and they utter,

under various emotions and desires, at least six or seven different

sounds. The purr of satisfaction, which is made during both inspiration

and expiration, is one of the most curious. The puma, cheetah, and

ocelot likewise purr; but the tiger, when pleased, “emits a peculiar

short snuffle, accompanied by the closure of the eyelids.”[507] It is

said that the lion, jaguar, and leopard, do not purr.

_Horses_.—Horses when savage draw their ears closely back, protrude

their heads, and partially uncover their incisor teeth, ready for

biting. When inclined to kick behind, they generally, through habit,

draw back their ears; and their eyes are turned backwards in a peculiar

manner.[508] When pleased, as when some coveted food is brought to them

in the stable, they raise and draw in their heads, prick their ears,

and looking intently towards their friend, often whinny. Impatience is

expressed by pawing the ground.

The actions of a horse when much startled are highly expressive. One

day my horse was much frightened at a drilling machine, covered by a

tarpaulin, and lying on an open field. He raised his head so high, that

his neck became almost perpendicular; and this he did from habit, for

the machine lay on a slope below, and could not have been seen with

more distinctness through the raising of the head; nor if any sound had

proceeded from it, could the sound have been more distinctly heard. His

eyes and ears were directed intently forwards; and I could feel through

the saddle the palpitations of his heart. With red dilated nostrils he

snorted violently, and whirling round, would have dashed off at full

speed, had I not prevented him. The distension of the nostrils is not

for the sake of scenting the source of danger, for when a horse smells

carefully at any object and is not alarmed, he does not dilate his

nostrils. Owing to the presence of a valve in the throat, a horse when

panting does not breathe through his open mouth, but through his

nostrils; and these consequently have become endowed with great powers

of expansion. This expansion of the nostrils, as well as the snorting,

and the palpitations of the heart, are actions which have become firmly

associated during a long series of generations with the emotion of

terror; for terror has habitually led the horse to the most violent

exertion in dashing away at full speed from the cause of danger.

_Ruminants_.—Cattle and sheep are remarkable from displaying in so

slight a degree their emotions or sensations, excepting that of extreme

pain. A bull when enraged exhibits his rage only by the manner in which

he holds his lowered head, with distended nostrils, and by bellowing.

He also often paws the ground; but this pawing seems quite different

from that of an impatient horse, for when the soil is loose, he throws

up clouds of dust. I believe that bulls act in this manner when

irritated by flies, for the sake of driving them away. The wilder

breeds of sheep and the chamois when startled stamp on the ground, and

whistle through their noses; and this serves as a danger-signal to

their comrades. The musk-ox of the Arctic regions, when encountered,

likewise stamps on the ground.[509] How this stamping action arose I

cannot conjecture; for from inquiries which I have made it does not

appear that any of these animals fight with their fore-legs.

Some species of deer, when savage, display far more expression than do

cattle, sheep, or goats, for, as has already been stated, they draw

back their ears, grind their teeth, erect their hair, squeal, stamp on

the ground, and brandish their horns. One day in the Zoological

Gardens, the Formosan deer (_Cervus pseudaxis_) approached me in a

curious attitude, with his muzzle raised high up, so that the horns

were pressed back on his neck; the head being held rather obliquely.

From the expression of his eye I felt sure that he was savage; he

approached slowly, and as soon as he came close to the iron bars, he

did not lower his head to butt at me, but suddenly bent it inwards, and

struck his horns with great force against the railings. Mr. Bartlett

informs me that some other species of deer place themselves in the same

attitude when enraged.

_Monkeys_.—The various species and genera of monkeys express their

feelings in many different ways; and this fact is interesting, as in

some degree bearing on the question, whether the so-called races of man

should be ranked as distinct species or varieties; for, as we shall see

in the following chapters, the different races of man express their

emotions and sensations with remarkable uniformity throughout the

world. Some of the expressive actions of monkeys are interesting in

another way, namely from being closely analogous to those of man. As I

have had no opportunity of observing any one species of the group under

all circumstances, my miscellaneous remarks will be best arranged under

different states of the mind.

_Pleasure, joy, affection_—It is not possible to distinguish in

monkeys, at least without more experience than I have had, the

expression of pleasure or joy from that of affection. Young chimpanzees

make a kind of barking noise, when pleased by the return of any one to

whom they are attached. When this noise, which the keepers call a

laugh, is uttered, the lips are protruded; but so they are under

various other emotions. Nevertheless I could perceive that when they

were pleased the form of the lips differed a little from that assumed

when they were angered. If a young chimpanzee be tickled—and the

armpits are particularly sensitive to tickling, as in the case of our

children,—a more decided chuckling or laughing sound is uttered; though

the laughter is sometimes noiseless. The corners of the mouth are then

drawn backwards; and this sometimes causes the lower eyelids to be

slightly wrinkled. But this wrinkling, which is so characteristic of

our own laughter, is more plainly seen in some other monkeys. The teeth

in the upper jaw in the chimpanzee are not exposed when they utter

their laughing noise, in which respect they differ from us. But their

eyes sparkle and grow brighter, as Mr. W. L. Martin,[510] who has

particularly attended to their expression, states.

Young Orangs, when tickled, likewise grin and make a chuckling sound;

and Mr. Martin says that their eyes grow brighter. As soon as their

laughter ceases, an expression may be detected passing over their

faces, which, as Mr. Wallace remarked to me, may be called a smile. I

have also noticed something of the same kind with the chimpanzee. Dr.

Duchenne—and I cannot quote a better authority—informs me that he kept

a very tame monkey in his house for a year; and when he gave it during

meal-times some choice delicacy, he observed that the corners of its

mouth were slightly raised; thus an expression of satisfaction,

partaking of the nature of an incipient smile, and resembling that

often seen on the face of main, could be plainly perceived in this

animal.

The _Cebus azaræ_,[511] when rejoiced at again seeing a beloved person,

utters a peculiar tittering (_kichernden_) sound. It also expresses

agreeable sensations, by drawing back the corners of its mouth, without

producing any sound. Rengger calls this movement laughter, but it would

be more appropriately called a smile. The form of the mouth is

different when either pain or terror is expressed, and high shrieks are

uttered. Another species of _Cebus_ in the Zoological Gardens (_C.

hypoleucus_) when pleased, makes a reiterated shrill note, and likewise

draws back the corners of its mouth, apparently through the contraction

of the same muscles as with us. So does the Barbary ape (_Inuus

ecaudatus_) to an extraordinary degree; and I observed in this monkey

that the skin of the lower eyelids then became much wrinkled. At the

same time it rapidly moved its lower jaw or lips in a spasmodic manner,

the teeth being exposed; but the noise produced was hardly more

distinct than that which we sometimes call silent laughter. Two of the

keepers affirmed that this slight sound was the animal’s laughter, and

when I expressed some doubt on this head (being at the time quite

inexperienced), they made it attack or rather threaten a hated Entellus

monkey, living in the same compartment. Instantly the whole expression

of the face of the Inuus changed; the mouth was opened much more

widely, the canine teeth were more fully exposed, and a hoarse barking

noise was uttered.

The Anubis baboon (_Cynocephalus anubis_) was first insulted and put

into a furious rage, as was easily done, by his keeper, who then made

friends with him and shook hands. As the reconciliation was effected

the baboon rapidly moved up and down his jaws and lips, and looked

pleased. When we laugh heartily, a similar movement, or quiver, may be

observed more or less distinctly in our jaws; but with man the muscles

of the chest are more particularly acted on, whilst with this baboon,

and with some other monkeys, it is the muscles of the jaws and lips

which are spasmodically affected.

Cynopithecus Niger, in a Placid Condition. Fig.16-17

I have already had occasion to remark on the curious manner in which

two or three species of Alacacus and the _Cynopithecus niger_ draw back

their ears and utter a slight jabbering noise, when they are pleased by

being caressed. With the Cynopithecus (fig. 17), the corners of the

mouth are at the same time drawn backwards and upwards, so that the

teeth are exposed. Hence this expression would never be recognized by a

stranger as one of pleasure. The crest of long hairs on the forehead is

depressed, and apparently the whole skin of the head drawn backwards.

The eyebrows are thus raised a little, and the eyes assume a staring

appearance. The lower eyelids also become slightly wrinkled; but this

wrinkling is not conspicuous, owing to the permanent transverse furrows

on the face.

_Painful emotions and sensations_.—With monkeys the expression of

slight pain, or of any painful emotion, such as grief, vexation,

jealousy, &c., is not easily distinguished from that of moderate anger;

and these states of mind readily and quickly pass into each other.

Grief, however, with some species is certainly exhibited by weeping. A

woman, who sold a monkey to the Zoological Society, believed to have

come from Borneo (_Macacus maurus_ or _M. inornatus_ of Gray), said

that it often cried; and Mr. Bartlett, as well as the keeper Mr.

Sutton, have repeatedly seen it, when grieved, or even when much

pitied, weeping so copiously that the tears rolled down its cheeks.

There is, however, something strange about this case, for two specimens

subsequently kept in the Gardens, and believed to be the same species,

have never been seen to weep, though they were carefully observed by

the keeper and myself when much distressed and loudly screaming.

Rengger states[512] that the eyes of the _Cebus azaræ_ fill with tears,

but not sufficiently to overflow, when it is prevented getting some

much desired object, or is much frightened. Humboldt also asserts that

the eyes of the _Callithrix sciureus_ “instantly fill with tears when

it is seized with fear;” but when this pretty little monkey in the

Zoological Gardens was teased, so as to cry out loudly, this did not

occur. I do not, however, wish to throw the least doubt on the accuracy

of Humboldt’s statement.

The appearance of dejection in young orangs and chimpanzees, when out

of health, is as plain and almost as pathetic as in the case of our

children. This state of mind and body is shown by their listless

movements, fallen countenances, dull eyes, and changed complexion.

_Anger_.—This emotion is often exhibited by many kinds of monkeys, and

is expressed, as Mr. Martin remarks,[513] in many different ways. “Some

species, when irritated, pout the lips, gaze with a fixed and savage

glare on their foe, and make repeated short starts as if about to

spring forward, uttering at the same time inward guttural sounds. Many

display their anger by suddenly advancing, making abrupt starts, at the

same time opening the mouth and pursing up the lips, so as to conceal

the teeth, while the eyes are daringly fixed on the enemy, as if in

savage defiance. Some again, and principally the long-tailed monkeys,

or Guenons, display their teeth, and accompany their malicious grins

with a sharp, abrupt, reiterated cry.” Mr. Sutton confirms the

statement that some species uncover their teeth when enraged, whilst

others conceal them by the protrusion of their lips; and some kinds

draw back their ears. The _Cynopithecus niger_, lately referred to,

acts in this manner, at the same time depressing the crest of hair on

its forehead, and showing its teeth; so that the movements of the

features from anger are nearly the same as those from pleasure; and the

two expressions can be distinguished only by those familiar with the

animal.

Baboons often show their passion and threaten their enemies in a very

odd manner, namely, by opening their mouths widely as in the act of

yawning. Mr. Bartlett has often seen two baboons, when first placed in

the same compartment, sitting opposite to each other and thus

alternately opening their mouths; and this action seems frequently to

end in a real yawn. Mr. Bartlett believes that both animals wish to

show to each other that they are provided with a formidable set of

teeth, as is undoubtedly the case. As I could hardly credit the reality

of this yawning gesture, Mr. Bartlett insulted an old baboon and put

him into a violent passion; and he almost immediately thus acted. Some

species of Macacus and of Cereopithecus[514] behave in the same manner.

Baboons likewise show their anger, as was observed by Brehin with those

which he kept alive in Abyssinia, in another manner, namely, by

striking the ground with one hand, “like an angry man striking the

table with his fist.” I have seen this movement with the baboons in the

Zoological Gardens; but sometimes the action seems rather to represent

the searching for a stone or other object in their beds of straw.

Mr. Sutton has often observed the face of the _Macacus rhesus_, when

much enraged, growing red. As he was mentioning this to me, another

monkey attacked a _rhesus_, and I saw its face redden as plainly as

that of a man in a violent passion. In the course of a few minutes,

after the battle, the face of this monkey recovered its natural tint.

At the same time that the face reddened, the naked posterior part of

the body, which is always red, seemed to grow still redder; but I

cannot positively assert that this was the case. When the Mandrill is

in any way excited, the brilliantly coloured, naked parts of the skin

are said to become still more vividly coloured.

With several species of baboons the ridge of the forehead projects much

over the eyes, and is studded with a few long hairs, representing our

eyebrows. These animals are always looking about them, and in order to

look upwards they raise their eyebrows. They have thus, as it would

appear, acquired the habit of frequently moving their eyebrows. However

this may be, many kinds of monkeys, especially the baboons, when

angered or in any way excited, rapidly and incessantly move their

eyebrows up and down, as well as the hairy skin of their

foreheads.[515] As we associate in the case of man the raising and

lowering of the eyebrows with definite states of the mind, the almost

incessant movement of the eyebrows by monkeys gives them a senseless

expression. I once observed a man who had a trick of continually

raising his eyebrows without any corresponding emotion, and this gave

to him a foolish appearance; so it is with some persons who keep the

corners of their mouths a little drawn backwards and upwards, as if by

an incipient smile, though at the time they are not amused or pleased.

A young orang, made jealous by her keeper attending to another monkey,

slightly uncovered her teeth, and, uttering a peevish noise like

_tish-shist_, turned her back on him. Both orangs and chimpanzees, when

a little more angered, protrude their lips greatly, and make a harsh

barking noise. A young female chimpanzee, in a violent passion,

presented a curious resemblance to a child in the same state. She

screamed loudly with widely open mouth, the lips being retracted so

that the teeth were fully exposed. She threw her arms wildly about,

sometimes clasping them over her head. She rolled on the ground,

sometimes on her back, sometimes on her belly, and bit everything

within reach. A young gibbon (_Hylobates syndactylus_) in a passion has

been described[516] as behaving in almost exactly the same manner.

The lips of young orangs and chimpanzees are protruded, sometimes to a

wonderful degree, under various circumstances. They act thus, not only

when slightly angered, sulky, or disappointed, but when alarmed at

anything—in one instance, at the sight of a turtle,[517]—and likewise

when pleased. But neither the degree of protrusion nor the shape of the

mouth is exactly the same, as I believe, in all cases; and the sounds

which are then uttered are different. The accompanying drawing

represents a chimpanzee made sulky by an orange having been offered

him, and then taken away. A similar protrusion or pouting of the lips,

though to a much slighter degree, may be seen in sulky children.

Chimpanzee Disappointed and Sulky. Fig. 18

Many years ago, in the Zoological Gardens, I placed a looking-glass on

the floor before two young orangs, who, as far as it was known, had

never before seen one. At first they gazed at their own images with the

most steady surprise, and often changed their point of view. They then

approached close and protruded their lips towards the image, as if to

kiss it, in exactly the same manner as they had previously done towards

each other, when first placed, a few days before, in the same room.

They next made all sorts of grimaces, and put themselves in various

attitudes before the mirror; they pressed and rubbed the surface; they

placed their hands at different distances behind it; looked behind it;

and finally seemed almost frightened, started a little, became cross,

and refused to look any longer.

When we try to perform some little action which is difficult and

requires precision, for instance, to thread a needle, we generally

close our lips firmly, for the sake, I presume, of not disturbing our

movements by breathing; and I noticed the same action in a young Orang.

The poor little creature was sick, and was amusing itself by trying to

kill the flies on the window-panes with its knuckles; this was

difficult as the flies buzzed about, and at each attempt the lips were

firmly compressed, and at the same time slightly protruded.

Although the countenances, and more especially the gestures, of orangs

and chimpanzees are in some respects highly expressive, I doubt whether

on the whole they are so expressive as those of some other kinds of

monkeys. This may be attributed in part to their ears being immovable,

and in part to the nakedness of their eyebrows, of which the movements

are thus rendered less conspicuous. When, however, they raise their

eyebrows their foreheads become, as with us, transversely wrinkled. In

comparison with man, their faces are inexpressive, chiefly owing to

their not frowning under any emotion of the mind—that is, as far as I

have been able to observe, and I carefully attended to this point.

Frowning, which is one of the most important of all the expressions in

man, is due to the contraction of the corrugators by which the eyebrows

are lowered and brought together, so that vertical furrows are formed

on the forehead. Both the orang and chimpanzee are said[518] to possess

this muscle, but it seems rarely brought into action, at least in a

conspicuous manner. I made my hands into a sort of cage, and placing

some tempting fruit within, allowed both a young orang and chimpanzee

to try their utmost to get it out; but although they grew rather cross,

they showed not a trace of a frown. Nor was there any frown when they

were enraged. Twice I took two chimpanzees from their rather dark room

suddenly into bright sunshine, which would certainly have caused us to

frown; they blinked and winked their eyes, but only once did I see a

very slight frown. On another occasion, I tickled the nose of a

chimpanzee with a straw, and as it crumpled up its face, slight

vertical furrows appeared between the eyebrows. I have never seen a

frown on the forehead of the orang.

The gorilla, when enraged, is described as erecting its crest of hair,

throwing down its under lip, dilating its nostrils, and uttering

terrific yells. Messrs. Savage and Wyman[519] state that the scalp can

be freely moved backwards and forwards, and that when the animal is

excited it is strongly contracted; but I presume that they mean by this

latter expression that the scalp is lowered; for they likewise speak of

the young chimpanzee, when crying out, as having the eyebrows strongly

contracted. The great power of movement in the scalp of the gorilla, of

many baboons and other monkeys, deserves notice in relation to the

power possessed by some few men, either through reversion or

persistence, of voluntarily moving their scalps.[520]

_Astonishment, Terror_—A living fresh-water turtle was placed at my

request in the same compartment in the Zoological Gardens with many

monkeys; and they showed unbounded astonishment, as well as some fear.

This was displayed by their remaining motionless, staring intently with

widely opened eyes, their eyebrows being often moved up and down. Their

faces seemed somewhat lengthened. They occasionally raised themselves

on their hind-legs to get abetter view. They often retreated a few

feet, and then turning their heads over one shoulder, again stared

intently. It was curious to observe how much less afraid they were of

the turtle than of a living snake which I had formerly placed in their

compartment;[521] for in the course of a few minutes some of the

monkeys ventured to approach and touch the turtle. On the other hand,

some of the larger baboons were greatly terrified, and grinned as if on

the point of screaming out. When I showed a little dressed-up doll to

the _Cynopithecus niger_, it stood motionless, stared intently with

widely opened eyes, and advanced its ears a little forwards. But when

the turtle was placed in its compartment, this monkey also moved its

lips in an odd, rapid, jabbering manner, which the keeper declared was

meant to conciliate or please the turtle.

I was never able clearly to perceive that the eyebrows of astonished

monkeys were kept permanently raised, though they were frequently moved

up and down. Attention, which precedes astonishment, is expressed by

man by a slight raising of the eyebrows; and Dr. Duchenne informs me

that when he gave to the monkey formerly mentioned some quite new

article of food, it elevated its eyebrows a little, thus assuming an

appearance of close attention. It then took the food in its fingers,

and, with lowered or rectilinear eyebrows, scratched, smelt, and

examined it,—an expression of reflection being thus exhibited.

Sometimes it would throw back its head a little, and again with

suddenly raised eyebrows re-examine and finally taste the food.

In no case did any monkey keep its mouth open when it was astonished.

Mr. Sutton observed for me a young orang and chimpanzee during a

considerable length of time; and however much they were astonished, or

whilst listening intently to some strange sound, they did not keep

their mouths open. This fact is surprising, as with mankind hardly any

expression is more general than a widely open mouth under the sense of

astonishment. As far as I have been able to observe, monkeys breathe

more freely through their nostrils than men do; and this may account

for their not opening their mouths when they are astonished; for, as we

shall see in a future chapter, man apparently acts in this manner when

startled, at first for the sake of quickly drawing a full inspiration,

and afterwards for the sake of breathing as quietly as possible.

Terror is expressed by many kinds of monkeys by the utterance of shrill

screams; the lips being drawn back, so that the teeth are exposed. The

hair becomes erect, especially when some anger is likewise felt. Mr.

Sutton has distinctly seen the face of the _Macacus rhesus_ grow pale

from fear. Monkeys also tremble from fear; and sometimes they void

their excretions. I have seen one which, when caught, almost fainted

from an excess of terror.

Sufficient facts have now been given with respect to the expressions of

various animals. It is impossible to agree with Sir C. Bell when he

says[522] that “the faces of animals seem chiefly capable of expressing

rage and fear;” and again, when he says that all their expressions “may

be referred, more or less plainly, to their acts of volition or

necessary instincts.” He who will look at a dog preparing to attack

another dog or a man, and at the same animal when caressing his master,

or will watch the countenance of a monkey when insulted, and when

fondled by his keeper, will be forced to admit that the movements of

their features and their gestures are almost as expressive as those of

man. Although no explanation can be given of some of the expressions in

the lower animals, the greater number are explicable in accordance with

the three principles given at the commencement of the first chapter.

CHAPTER VI. SPECIAL EXPRESSIONS OF MAN: SUFFERING AND WEEPING.

The screaming and weeping of infants—Forms of features—Age at which

weeping commences—The effects of habitual restraint on

weeping—Sobbing—Cause of the contraction of the muscles round the eyes

during screaming—Cause of the secretion of tears.

In this and the following chapters the expressions exhibited by Man

under various states of the mind will be described and explained, as

far as lies in my power. My observations will be arranged according to

the order which I have found the most convenient; and this will

generally lead to opposite emotions and sensations succeeding each

other.

_Suffering of the body and mind: weeping_.—I have already described in

sufficient detail, in the third chapter, the signs of extreme pain, as

shown by screams or groans, with the writhing of the whole body and the

teeth clenched or ground together. These signs are often accompanied or

followed by profuse sweating, pallor, trembling, utter prostration, or

faintness. No suffering is greater than that from extreme fear or

horror, but here a distinct emotion comes into play, and will be

elsewhere considered. Prolonged suffering, especially of the mind,

passes into low spirits, grief, dejection, and despair, and these

states will be the subject of the following chapter. Here I shall

almost confine myself to weeping or crying, more especially in

children.

Infants, when suffering even slight pain, moderate hunger, or

discomfort, utter violent and prolonged screams. Whilst thus screaming

their eyes are firmly closed, so that the skin round them is wrinkled,

and the forehead contracted into a frown. The mouth is widely opened

with the lips retracted in a peculiar manner, which causes it to assume

a squarish form; the gums or teeth being more or less exposed. The

breath is inhaled almost spasmodically. It is easy to observe infants

whilst screaming; but I have found photographs made by the

instantaneous process the best means for observation, as allowing more

deliberation. I have collected twelve, most of them made purposely for

me; and they all exhibit the same general characteristics. I have,

therefore, had six of them[601] (Plate I.) reproduced by the heliotype

process.

Screaming Infants. Plate I.

The firm closing of the eyelids and consequent compression of the

eyeball,—and this is a most important element in various

expressions,—serves to protect the eyes from becoming too much gorged

with blood, as will presently be explained in detail. With respect to

the order in which the several muscles contract in firmly compressing

the eyes, I am indebted to Dr. Langstaff, of Southampton, for some

observations, which I have since repeated. The best plan for observing

the order is to make a person first raise his eyebrows, and this

produces transverse wrinkles across the forehead; and then very

gradually to contract all the muscles round the elves with as much

force as possible. The reader who is unacquainted with the anatomy of

the face, ought to refer to p. 24, and look at the woodcuts 1 to 3. The

corrugators of the brow (_corrugator supercilii_) seem to be the first

muscles to contract; and these draw the eyebrows downwards and inwards

towards the base of the nose, causing vertical furrows, that is a

frown, to appear between the eyebrows; at the same time they cause the

disappearance of the transverse wrinkles across the forehead. The

orbicular muscles contract almost simultaneously with the corrugators,

and produce wrinkles all round the eyes; they appear, however, to be

enabled to contract with greater force, as soon as the contraction of

the corrugators has given them some support. Lastly, the pyramidal

muscles of the nose contract; and these draw the eyebrows and the skin

of the forehead still lower down, producing short transverse wrinkles

across the base of the nose.[602] For the sake of brevity these muscles

will generally be spoken of as the orbiculars, or as those surrounding

the eyes.

When these muscles are strongly contracted, those running to the upper

lip[603] likewise contract and raise the upper lip. This might have

been expected from the manner in which at least one of them, the

_malaris_, is connected with the orbiculars. Any one who will gradually

contract the muscles round his eyes, will feel, as he increases the

force, that his upper lip and the wings of his nose (which are partly

acted on by one of the same muscles) are almost always a little drawn

up. If he keeps his mouth firmly shut whilst contracting the muscles

round the eyes, and then suddenly relaxes his lips, he will feel that

the pressure on his eyes immediately increases. So again when a person

on a bright, glaring day wishes to look at a distant object, but is

compelled partially to close his eyelids, the upper lip may almost

always be observed to be somewhat raised. The mouths of some very

short-sighted persons, who are forced habitually to reduce the aperture

of their eyes, wear from this same reason a grinning expression.

The raising of the upper lip draws upwards the flesh of the upper parts

of the cheeks, and produces a strongly marked fold on each cheek,—the

naso-labial fold,—which runs from near the wings of the nostrils to the

corners of the mouth and below them. This fold or furrow may be seen in

all the photographs, and is very characteristic of the expression of a

crying child; though a nearly similar fold is produced in the act of

laughing or smiling.[604]

As the upper lip is much drawn up during the act of screaming, in the

manner just explained, the depressor muscles of the angles of the mouth

(see K in woodcuts 1 and 2) are strongly contracted in order to keep

the mouth widely open, so that a full volume of sound may be poured

forth. The action of these opposed muscles, above and below, tends to

give to the mouth an oblong, almost squarish outline, as may be seen in

the accompanying photographs. An excellent observer,[605] in describing

a baby crying whilst being fed, says, “it made its mouth like a square,

and let the porridge run out at all four corners.” I believe, but we

shall return to this point in a future chapter, that the depressor

muscles of the angles of the mouth are less under the separate control

of the will than the adjoining muscles; so that if a young child is

only doubtfully inclined to cry, this muscle is generally the first to

contract, and is the last to cease contracting. When older children

commence crying, the muscles which run to the upper lip are often the

first to contract; and this may perhaps be due to older children not

having so strong a tendency to scream loudly, and consequently to keep

their mouths widely open; so that the above-named depressor muscles are

not brought into such strong action.

With one of my own infants, from his eighth day and for some time

afterwards, I often observed that the first sign of a screaming-fit,

when it could be observed coming on gradually, was a little frown,

owing to the contraction of the corrugators of the brows; the

capillaries of the naked head and face becoming at the same time

reddened with blood. As soon as the screaming-fit actually began, all

the muscles round the eyes were strongly contracted, and the mouth

widely opened in the manner above described; so that at this early

period the features assumed the same form as at a more advanced age.

Dr. Piderit[606] lays great stress on the contraction of certain

muscles which draw down the nose and narrow the nostrils, as eminently

characteristic of a crying expression. The _depressores anguli oris_,

as we have just seen, are usually contracted at the same time, and they

indirectly tend, according to Dr. Duchenne, to act in this same manner

on the nose. With children having bad colds a similar pinched

appearance of the nose may be noticed, which is at least partly due, as

remarked to me by Dr. Langstaff, to their constant snuffling, and the

consequent pressure of the atmosphere on the two sides. The purpose of

this contraction of the nostrils by children having bad colds, or

whilst crying, seems to be to check the downward flow of the mucus and

tears, and to prevent these fluids spreading over the upper lip.

After a prolonged and severe screaming-fit, the scalp, face, and eyes

are reddened, owing to the return of the blood from the head having

been impeded by the violent expiratory efforts; but the redness of the

stimulated eyes is chiefly due to the copious effusion of tears. The

various muscles of the face which have been strongly contracted, still

twitch a little, and the upper lip is still slightly drawn up or

everted,[607] with the corners of the mouth still a little drawn

downwards. I have myself felt, and have observed in other grown-up

persons, that when tears are restrained with difficulty, as in reading

a pathetic story, it is almost impossible to prevent the various

muscles. which with young children are brought into strong action

during their screaming-fits, from slightly twitching or trembling.

Infants whilst young do not shed tears or weep, as is well known to

nurses and medical men. This circumstance is not exclusively due to the

lacrymal glands being as yet incapable of secreting tears. I first

noticed this fact from having accidentally brushed with the cuff of my

coat the open eye of one of my infants, when seventy-seven days old,

causing this eye to water freely; and though the child screamed

violently, the other eye remained dry, or was only slightly suffused

with tears. A similar slight effusion occurred ten days previously in

both eyes during a screaming-fit. The tears did not run over the

eyelids and roll down the cheeks of this child, whilst screaming badly,

when 122 days old. This first happened 17 days later, at the age of 139

days. A few other children have been observed for me, and the period of

free weeping appears to be very variable. In one case, the eyes became

slightly suffused at the age of only 20 days; in another, at 62 days.

With two other children, the tears did NOT run down the face at the

ages of 84 and 110 days; but in a third child they did run down at the

age of 104 days. In one instance, as I was positively assured, tears

ran down at the unusually early age of 42 days. It would appear as if

the lacrymal glands required some practice in the individual before

they are easily excited into action, in somewhat the same manner as

various inherited consensual movements and tastes require some exercise

before they are fixed and perfected. This is all the more likely with a

habit like weeping, which must have been acquired since the period when

man branched off from the common progenitor of the genus Homo and of

the non-weeping anthropomorphous apes.

The fact of tears not being shed at a very early age from pain or any

mental emotion is remarkable, as, later in life, no expression is more

general or more strongly marked than weeping. When the habit has once

been acquired by an infant, it expresses in the clearest manner

suffering of all kinds, both bodily pain and mental distress, even

though accompanied by other emotions, such as fear or rage. The

character of the crying, however, changes at a very early age, as I

noticed in my own infants,—the passionate cry differing from that of

grief. A lady informs me that her child, nine months old, when in a

passion screams loudly, but does not weep; tears, however, are shed

when she is punished by her chair being turned with its back to the

table. This difference may perhaps be attributed to weeping being

restrained, as we shall immediately see, at a more advanced age, under

most circumstances excepting grief; and to the influence of such

restraint being transmitted to an earlier period of life, than that at

which it was first practised.

With adults, especially of the male sex, weeping soon ceases to be

caused by, or to express, bodily pain. This may be accounted for by its

being thought weak and unmanly by men, both of civilized and barbarous

races, to exhibit bodily pain by any outward sign. With this exception,

savages weep copiously from very slight causes, of which fact Sir J.

Lubbock[608] has collected instances. A New Zealand chief “cried like a

child because the sailors spoilt his favourite cloak by powdering it

with flour.” I saw in Tierra del Fuego a native who had lately lost a

brother, and who alternately cried with hysterical violence, and

laughed heartily at anything which amused him. With the civilized

nations of Europe there is also much difference in the frequency of

weeping. Englishmen rarely cry, except under the pressure of the

acutest grief; whereas in some parts of the Continent the men shed

tears much more readily and freely.

The insane notoriously give way to all their emotions with little or no

restraint; and I am informed by Dr. J. Crichton Browne, that nothing is

more characteristic of simple melancholia, even in the male sex, than a

tendency to weep on the slightest occasions, or from no cause. They

also weep disproportionately on the occurrence of any real cause of

grief. The length of time during which some patients weep is

astonishing, as well as the amount of tears which they shed. One

melancholic girl wept for a whole day, and afterwards confessed to Dr.

Browne, that it was because she remembered that she had once shaved off

her eyebrows to promote their growth. Many patients in the asylum sit

for a long time rocking themselves backwards and forwards; “and if

spoken to, they stop their movements, purse up their eyes, depress the

corners of the mouth, and burst out crying.” In some of these cases,

the being spoken to or kindly greeted appears to suggest some fanciful

and sorrowful notion; but in other cases an effort of any kind excites

weeping, independently of any sorrowful idea. Patients suffering from

acute mania likewise have paroxysms of violent crying or blubbering, in

the midst of their incoherent ravings. We must not, however, lay too

much stress on the copious shedding of tears by the insane, as being

due to the lack of all restraint; for certain brain-diseases, as

hemiplegia, brain-wasting, and senile decay, have a special tendency to

induce weeping. Weeping is common in the insane, even after a complete

state of fatuity has been reached and the power of speech lost. Persons

born idiotic likewise weep;[609] but it is said that this is not the

case with cretins.

Weeping seems to be the primary and natural expression, as we see in

children, of suffering of any kind, whether bodily pain short of

extreme agony, or mental distress. But the foregoing facts and common

experience show us that a frequently repeated effort to restrain

weeping, in association with certain states of the mind, does much in

checking the habit. On the other hand, it appears that the power of

weeping can be increased through habit; thus the Rev. R. Taylor,[610]

who long resided in New Zealand, asserts that the women can voluntarily

shed tears in abundance; they meet for this purpose to mourn for the

dead, and they take pride in crying “in the most affecting manner.”

A single effort of repression brought to bear on the lacrymal glands

does little, and indeed seems often to lead to an opposite result. An

old and experienced physician told me that he had always found that the

only means to check the occasional bitter weeping of ladies who

consulted him, and who themselves wished to desist, was earnestly to

beg them not to try, and to assure them that nothing would relieve them

so much as prolonged and copious crying.

The screaming of infants consists of prolonged expirations, with short

and rapid, almost spasmodic inspirations, followed at a somewhat more

advanced age by sobbing. According to Gratiolet,[611] the glottis is

chiefly affected during the act of sobbing. This sound is heard “at the

moment when the inspiration conquers the resistance of the glottis, and

the air rushes into the chest.” But the whole act of respiration is

likewise spasmodic and violent. The shoulders are at the same time

generally raised, as by this movement respiration is rendered easier.

With one of my infants, when seventy-seven days old, the inspirations

were so rapid and strong that they approached in character to sobbing;

when 138 days old I first noticed distinct sobbing, which subsequently

followed every bad crying-fit. The respiratory movements are partly

voluntary and partly involuntary, and I apprehend that sobbing is at

least in part due to children having some power to command after early

infancy their vocal organs and to stop their screams, but from having

less power over their respiratory muscles, these continue for a time to

act in an involuntary or spasmodic manner, after having been brought

into violent action. Sobbing seems to be peculiar to the human species;

for the keepers in the Zoological Gardens assure me that they have

never heard a sob from any kind of monkey; though monkeys often scream

loudly whilst being chased and caught, and then pant for a long time.

We thus see that there is a close analogy between sobbing and the free

shedding of tears; for with children, sobbing does not commence during

early infancy, but afterwards comes on rather suddenly and then follows

every bad crying-fit, until the habit is checked with advancing years.

_On the cause of the contraction of the muscles round the eyes during

screaming_.—We have seen that infants and young children, whilst

screaming, invariably close their eyes firmly, by the contraction of

the surrounding muscles, so that the skin becomes wrinkled all around.

With older children, and even with adults, whenever there is violent

and unrestrained crying, a tendency to the contraction of these same

muscles may be observed; though this is often checked in order not to

interfere with vision.

Sir C. Bell explains[612] this action in the following manner:—“During

every violent act of expiration, whether in hearty laughter, weeping,

coughing, or sneezing, the eyeball is firmly compressed by the fibres

of the orbicularis; and this is a provision for supporting and

defending the vascular system of the interior of the eye from a

retrograde impulse communicated to the blood in the veins at that time.

When we contract the chest and expel the air, there is a retardation of

the blood in the veins of the neck and head; and in the more powerful

acts of expulsion, the blood not only distends the vessels, but is even

regurgitated into the minute branches. Were the eye not properly

compressed at that time, and a resistance given to the shock,

irreparable injury might be inflicted on the delicate textures of the

interior of the eye.” He further adds, “If we separate the eyelids of a

child to examine the eye, while it cries and struggles with passion, by

taking off the natural support to the vascular system of the eye, and

means of guarding it against the rush of blood then occurring, the

conjunctiva becomes suddenly filled with blood, and the eyelids

everted.”

Not only are the muscles round the eyes strongly contracted, as Sir C.

Bell states and as I have often observed, during screaming, loud

laughter, coughing, and sneezing, but during several other analogous

actions. A man contracts these muscles when he violently blows his

nose. I asked one of my boys to shout as loudly as he possibly could,

and as soon as he began, he firmly contracted his orbicular muscles; I

observed this repeatedly, and on asking him why he had every time so

firmly closed his eyes, I found that he was quite unaware of the fact:

he had acted instinctively or unconsciously.

It is not necessary, in order to lead to the contraction of these

muscles, that air should actually be expelled from the chest; it

suffices that the muscles of the chest and abdomen should contract with

great force, whilst by the closure of the glottis no air escapes. In

violent vomiting or retching the diaphragm is made to descend by the

chest being filled with air; it is then held in this position by the

closure of the glottis, “as well as by the contraction of its own

fibres.”[613] The abdominal muscles now contract strongly upon the

stomach, its proper muscles likewise contracting, and the contents are

thus ejected. During each effort of vomiting “the head becomes greatly

congested, so that the features are red and swollen, and the large

veins of the face and temples visibly dilated.” At the same time, as I

know from observation, the muscles round the eyes are strongly

contracted. This is likewise the case when the abdominal muscles act

downwards with unusual force in expelling the contents of the

intestinal canal.

The greatest exertion of the muscles of the body, if those of the chest

are not brought into strong action in expelling or compressing the air

within the lungs, does not lead to the contraction of the muscles round

the eyes. I have observed my sons using great force in gymnastic

exercises, as in repeatedly raising their suspended bodies by their

arms alone, and in lifting heavy weights from the ground, but there was

hardly any trace of contraction in the muscles round the eyes.

As the contraction of these muscles for the protection of the eyes

during violent expiration is indirectly, as we shall hereafter see, a

fundamental element in several of our most important expressions, I was

extremely anxious to ascertain how far Sir C. Bell’s view could be

substantiated. Professor Donders, of Utrecht,[614] well known as one of

the highest authorities in Europe on vision and on the structure of the

eye, has most kindly undertaken for me this investigation with the aid

of the many ingenious mechanisms of modern science, and has published

the results.[615] He shows that during violent expiration the external,

the intra-ocular, and the retro-ocular vessels of the eye are all

affected in two ways, namely by the increased pressure of the blood in

the arteries, and by the return of the blood in the veins being

impeded. It is, therefore, certain that both the arteries and the veins

of the eye are more or less distended during violent expiration. The

evidence in detail may be found in Professor Donders’ valuable memoir.

We see the effects on the veins of the head, in their prominence, and

in the purple colour of the face of a man who coughs violently from

being half choked. I may mention, on the same authority, that the whole

eye certainly advances a little during each violent expiration. This is

due to the dilatation of the retro-ocular vessels, and might have been

expected from the intimate connection of the eye and brain; the brain

being known to rise and fall with each respiration, when a portion of

the skull has been removed; and as may be seen along the unclosed

sutures of infants’ heads. This also, I presume, is the reason that the

eyes of a strangled man appear as if they were starting from their

sockets.

With respect to the protection of the eye during violent expiratory

efforts by the pressure of the eyelids, Professor Donders concludes

from his various observations that this action certainly limits or

entirely removes the dilatation of the vessels.[616] At such times, he

adds, we not unfrequently see the hand involuntarily laid upon the

eyelids, as if the better to support and defend the eyeball.

Nevertheless much evidence cannot at present be advanced to prove that

the eye actually suffers injury from the want of support during violent

expiration; but there is some. It is “a fact that forcible expiratory

efforts in violent coughing or vomiting, and especially in sneezing,

sometimes give rise to ruptures of the little (external) vessels” of

the eye.[617] With respect to the internal vessels, Dr. Gunning has

lately recorded a case of exophthalmos in consequence of

whooping-cough, which in his opinion depended on the rupture of the

deeper vessels; and another analogous case has been recorded. But a

mere sense of discomfort would probably suffice to lead to the

associated habit of protecting the eyeball by the contraction of the

surrounding muscles. Even the expectation or chance of injury would

probably be sufficient, in the same manner as an object moving too near

the eye induces involuntary winking of the eyelids. We may, therefore,

safely conclude from Sir C. Bell’s observations, and more especially

from the more careful investigations by Professor Donders, that the

firm closure of the eyelids during the screaming of children is an

action full of meaning and of real service.

We have already seen that the contraction of the orbicular muscles

leads to the drawing up of the upper lip, and consequently, if the

mouth is kept widely open, to the drawing down of the corners by the

contraction of the depressor muscles. The formation of the naso-labial

fold on the cheeks likewise follows from the drawing up of the upper

lip. Thus all the chief expressive movements of the face during crying

apparently result from the contraction of the muscles round the eyes.

We shall also find that the shedding of tears depends on, or at least

stands in some connection with, the contraction of these same muscles.

In some of the foregoing cases, especially in those of sneezing and

coughing, it is possible that the contraction of the orbicular muscles

may serve in addition to protect the eyes from too severe a jar or

vibration. I think so, because dogs and cats, in crunching hard bones,

always close their eyelids, and at least sometimes in sneezing; though

dogs do not do so whilst barking loudly. Mr. Sutton carefully observed

for me a young orang and chimpanzee, and he found that both always

closed their eyes in sneezing and coughing, but not whilst screaming

violently. I gave a small pinch of snuff to a monkey of the American

division, namely, a Cebus, and it closed its eyelids whilst sneezing;

but not on a subsequent occasion whilst uttering loud cries.

_Cause of the secretion of tears_.—It is an important fact which must

be considered in any theory of the secretion of tears from the mind

being affected, that whenever the muscles round the eyes are strongly

and involuntarily contracted in order to compress the blood-vessels and

thus to protect the eyes, tears are secreted, often in sufficient

abundance to roll down the cheeks. This occurs under the most opposite

emotions, and under no emotion at all. The sole exception, and this is

only a partial one, to the existence of a relation between the

involuntary and strong contraction of these muscles and the secretion

of tears is that of young infants, who, whilst screaming violently with

their eyelids firmly closed, do not commonly weep until they have

attained the age of from two to three or four months. Their eyes,

however, become suffused with tears at a much earlier age. It would

appear, as already remarked, that the lacrymal glands do not, from the

want of practice or some other cause, come to full functional activity

at a very early period of life. With children at a somewhat later age,

crying out or wailing from any distress is so regularly accompanied by

the shedding of tears, that weeping and crying are synonymous

terms.[618]

Under the opposite emotion of great joy or amusement, as long as

laughter is moderate there is hardly any contraction of the muscles

round the eyes, so that there is no frowning; but when peals of loud

laughter are uttered, with rapid and violent spasmodic expirations,

tears stream down the face. I have more than once noticed the face of a

person, after a paroxysm of violent laughter, and I could see that the

orbicular muscles and those running to the upper lip were still

partially contracted, which together with the tear-stained cheeks gave

to the upper half of the face an expression not to be distinguished

from that of a child still blubbering from grief. The fact of tears

streaming down the face during violent laughter is common to all the

races of mankind, as we shall see in a future chapter.

In violent coughing especially when a person is half-choked, the face

becomes purple, the veins distended, the orbicular muscles strongly

contracted, and tears run down the cheeks. Even after a fit of ordinary

coughing, almost every one has to wipe his eyes. In violent vomiting or

retching, as I have myself experienced and seen in others, the

orbicular muscles are strongly contracted, and tears sometimes flow

freely down the cheeks. It has been suggested to me that this may be

due to irritating matter being injected into the nostrils, and causing

by reflex action the secretion of tears. Accordingly I asked one of my

informants, a surgeon, to attend to the effects of retching when

nothing was thrown up from the stomach; and, by an odd coincidence, he

himself suffered the next morning from an attack of retching, and three

days subsequently observed a lady under a similar attack; and he is

certain that in neither case an atom of matter was ejected from the

stomach; yet the orbicular muscles were strongly contracted, and tears

freely secreted. I can also speak positively to the energetic

contraction of these same muscles round the eyes, and to the coincident

free secretion of tears, when the abdominal muscles act with unusual

force in a downward direction on the intestinal canal.

Yawning commences with a deep inspiration, followed by a long and

forcible expiration; and at the same time almost all the muscles of the

body are strongly contracted, including those round the eyes. During

this act tears are often secreted, and I have seen them even rolling

down the cheeks.

I have frequently observed that when persons scratch some point which

itches intolerably, they forcibly close their eyelids; but they do not,

as I believe, first draw a deep breath and then expel it with force;

and I have never noticed that the eyes then become filled with tears;

but I am not prepared to assert that this does not occur. The forcible

closure of the eyelids is, perhaps, merely a part of that general

action by which almost all the muscles of the body are at the same time

rendered rigid. It is quite different from the gentle closure of the

eyes which often accompanies, as Gratiolet remarks,[619] the smelling a

delicious odour, or the tasting a delicious morsel, and which probably

originates in the desire to shut out any disturbing impression through

the eyes.

Professor Donders writes to me to the following effect: “I have

observed some cases of a very curious affection when, after a slight

rub (_attouchement_), for example, from the friction of a coat, which

caused neither a wound nor a contusion, spasms of the orbicular muscles

occurred, with a very profuse flow of tears, lasting about one hour.

Subsequently, sometimes after an interval of several weeks, violent

spasms of the same muscles re-occurred, accompanied by the secretion of

tears, together with primary or secondary redness of the eye.” Mr.

Bowman informs me that he has occasionally observed closely analogous

cases, and that, in some of these, there was no redness or inflammation

of the eyes.

I was anxious to ascertain whether there existed in any of the lower

animals a similar relation between the contraction of the orbicular

muscles during violent expiration and the secretion of tears; but there

are very few animals which contract these muscles in a prolonged

manner, or which shed tears. _The Macacus maurus_, which formerly wept

so copiously in the Zoological Gardens, would have been a fine case for

observation; but the two monkeys now there, and which are believed to

belong to the same species, do not weep. Nevertheless they were

carefully observed by Mr. Bartlett and myself, whilst screaming loudly,

and they seemed to contract these muscles; but they moved about their

cages so rapidly, that it was difficult to observe with certainty. No

other monkey, as far as I have been able to ascertain, contracts its

orbicular muscles whilst screaming.

The Indian elephant is known sometimes to weep. Sir E. Tennent, in

describing these which he saw captured and bound in Ceylon, says, some

“lay motionless on the ground, with no other indication of suffering

than the tears which suffused their eyes and flowed incessantly.”

Speaking of another elephant he says, “When overpowered and made fast,

his grief was most affecting; his violence sank to utter prostration,

and he lay on the ground, uttering choking cries, with tears trickling

down his cheeks.”[620] In the Zoological Gardens the keeper of the

Indian elephants positively asserts that he has several times seen

tears rolling down the face of the old female, when distressed by the

removal of the young one. Hence I was extremely anxious to ascertain,

as an extension of the relation between the contraction of the

orbicular muscles and the shedding of tears in man, whether elephants

when screaming or trumpeting loudly contract these muscles. At Mr.

Bartlett’s desire the keeper ordered the old and the young elephant to

trumpet; and we repeatedly saw in both animals that, just as the

trumpeting began, the orbicular muscles, especially the lower ones,

were distinctly contracted. On a subsequent occasion the keeper made

the old elephant trumpet much more loudly, and invariably both the

upper and lower orbicular muscles were strongly contracted, and now in

an equal degree. It is a singular fact that the African elephant,

which, however, is so different from the Indian species that it is

placed by some naturalists in a distinct sub-genus, when made on two

occasions to trumpet loudly, exhibited no trace of the contraction of

the orbicular muscles.

From the several foregoing cases with respect to Man, there can, I

think, be no doubt that the contraction of the muscles round the eyes,

during violent expiration or when the expanded chest is forcibly

compressed, is, in some manner, intimately connected with the secretion

of tears. This holds good under widely different emotions, and

independently of any emotion. It is not, of course, meant that tears

cannot be secreted without the contraction of these muscles; for it is

notorious that they are often freely shed with the eyelids not closed,

and with the brows unwrinkled. The contraction must be both involuntary

and prolonged, as during a choking fit, or energetic, as during a

sneeze. The mere involuntary winking of the eyelids, though often

repeated, does not bring tears into the eyes. Nor does the voluntary

and prolonged contraction of the several surrounding muscles suffice.

As the lacrymal glands of children are easily excited, I persuaded my

own and several other children of different ages to contract these

muscles repeatedly with their utmost force, and to continue doing so as

long as they possibly could; but this produced hardly any effect. There

was sometimes a little moisture in the eyes, but not more than

apparently could be accounted for by the squeezing out of the already

secreted tears within the glands.

The nature of the relation between the involuntary and energetic

contraction of the muscles round the eyes, and the secretion of tears,

cannot be positively ascertained, but a probable view may be suggested.

The primary function of the secretion of tears, together with some

mucus, is to lubricate the surface of the eye; and a secondary one, as

some believe, is to keep the nostrils damp, so that the inhaled air may

be moist,[621] and likewise to favour the power of smelling. But

another, and at least equally important function of tears, is to wash

out particles of dust or other minute objects which may get into the

eyes. That this is of great importance is clear from the cases in which

the cornea has been rendered opaque through inflammation, caused by

particles of dust not being removed, in consequence of the eye and

eyelid becoming immovable.[622] The secretion of tears from the

irritation of any foreign body in the eye is a reflex action;—that is,

the body irritates a peripheral nerve which sends an impression to

certain sensory nerve-cells; these transmit an influence to other

cells, and these again to the lacrymal glands. The influence

transmitted to these glands causes, as there is good reason to believe,

the relaxation of the muscular coats of the smaller arteries; this

allows more blood to permeate the glandular tissue, and this induces a

free secretion of tears. When the small arteries of the face, including

those of the retina, are relaxed under very different circumstances,

namely, during an intense blush, the lacrymal glands are sometimes

affected in a like manner, for the eyes become suffused with tears.

It is difficult to conjecture how many reflex actions have originated,

but, in relation to the present case of the affection of the lacrymal

glands through irritation of the surface of the eye, it may be worth

remarking that, as soon as some primordial form became semi-terrestrial

in its habits, and was liable to get particles of dust into its eyes,

if these were not washed out they would cause much irritation; and on

the principle of the radiation of nerve-force to adjoining nerve-cells,

the lacrymal glands would be stimulated to secretion. As this would

often recur, and as nerve-force readily passes along accustomed

channels, a slight irritation would ultimately suffice to cause a free

secretion of tears.

As soon as by this, or by some other means, a reflex action of this

nature had been established and rendered easy, other stimulants applied

to the surface of the eye—such as a cold wind, slow inflammatory

action, or a blow on the eyelids—would cause a copious secretion of

tears, as we know to be the case. The glands are also excited into

action through the irritation of adjoining parts. Thus when the

nostrils are irritated by pungent vapours, though the eyelids may be

kept firmly closed, tears are copiously secreted; and this likewise

follows from a blow on the nose, for instance from a boxing-glove. A

stinging switch on the face produces, as I have seen, the same effect.

In these latter cases the secretion of tears is an incidental result,

and of no direct service. As all these parts of the face, including the

lacrymal glands, are supplied with branches of the same nerve, namely,

the fifth, it is in some degree intelligible that the effects of the

excitement of any one branch should spread to the nerve-cells or roots

of the other branches.

The internal parts of the eye likewise act, under certain conditions,

in a reflex manner on the lacrymal glands. The following statements

have been kindly communicated to me by Mr. Bowman; but the subject is a

very intricate one, as all the parts of the eye are so intimately

related together, and are so sensitive to various stimulants. A strong

light acting on the retina, when in a normal condition, has very little

tendency to cause lacrymation; but with unhealthy children having

small, old-standing ulcers on the cornea, the retina becomes

excessively sensitive to light, and exposure even to common daylight

causes forcible and sustained closure of the lids, and a profuse flow

of tears. When persons who ought to begin the use of convex glasses

habitually strain the waning power of accommodation, an undue secretion

of tears very often follows, and the retina is liable to become unduly

sensitive to light. In general, morbid affections of the surface of the

eye, and of the ciliary structures concerned in the accommodative act,

are prone to be accompanied with excessive secretion of tears. Hardness

of the eyeball, not rising to inflammation, but implying a want of

balance between the fluids poured out and again taken up by the

intra-ocular vessels, is not usually attended with any lacrymation.

When the balance is on the other side, and the eye becomes too soft,

there is a greater tendency to lacrymation. Finally, there are numerous

morbid states and structural alterations of the eyes, and even terrible

inflammations, which may be attended with little or no secretion of

tears.

It also deserves notice, as indirectly bearing on our subject, that the

eye and adjoining parts are subject to an extraordinary number of

reflex and associated movements, sensations, and actions, besides those

relating to the lacrymal glands. When a bright light strikes the retina

of one eye alone, the iris contracts, but the iris of the other eye

moves after a measurable interval of time. The iris likewise moves in

accommodation to near or distant vision, and when the two eyes are made

to converge.[623] Every one knows how irresistibly the eyebrows are

drawn down under an intensely bright light. The eyelids also

involuntarily wink when an object is moved near the eyes, or a sound is

suddenly heard. The well-known case of a bright light causing some

persons to sneeze is even more curious; for nerve-force here radiates

from certain nerve-cells in connection with the retina, to the sensory

nerve-cells of the nose, causing it to tickle; and from these, to the

cells which command the various respiratory muscles (the orbiculars

included) which expel the air in so peculiar a manner that it rushes

through the nostrils alone.

To return to our point: why are tears secreted during a screaming-fit

or other violent expiratory efforts? As a slight blow on the eyelids

causes a copious secretion of tears, it is at least possible that the

spasmodic contraction of the eyelids, by pressing strongly on the

eyeball, should in a similar manner cause some secretion. This seems

possible, although the voluntary contraction of the same muscles does

not produce any such effect. We know that a man cannot voluntarily

sneeze or cough with nearly the same force as he does automatically;

and so it is with the contraction of the orbicular muscles: Sir C. Bell

experimented on them, and found that by suddenly and forcibly closing

the eyelids in the dark, sparks of light are seen, like those caused by

tapping the eyelids with the fingers; “but in sneezing the compression

is both more rapid and more forcible, and the sparks are more

brilliant.” That these sparks are due to the contraction of the eyelids

is clear, because if they “are held open during the act of sneezing, no

sensation of light will be experienced.” In the peculiar cases referred

to by Professor Donders and Mr. Bowman, we have seen that some weeks

after the eye has been very slightly injured, spasmodic contractions of

the eyelids ensue, and these are accompanied by a profuse flow of

tears. In the act of yawning, the tears are apparently due solely to

the spasmodic contraction of the muscles round the eyes.

Notwithstanding these latter cases, it seems hardly credible that the

pressure of the eyelids on the surface of the eye, although effected

spasmodically and therefore with much greater force than can be done

voluntarily, should be sufficient to cause by reflex action the

secretion of tears in the many cases in which this occurs during

violent expiratory efforts.

Another cause may come conjointly into play. We have seen that the

internal parts of the eye, under certain conditions act in a reflex

manner on the lacrymal glands. We know that during violent expiratory

efforts the pressure of the arterial blood within the vessels of the

eye is increased, and that the return of the venous blood is impeded.

It seems, therefore, not improbable that the distension of the ocular

vessels, thus induced, might act by reflection on the lacrymal

glands—the effects due to the spasmodic pressure of the eyelids on the

surface of the eye being thus increased.

In considering how far this view is probable, we should bear in mind

that the eyes of infants have been acted on in this double manner

during numberless generations, whenever they have screamed; and on the

principle of nerve-force readily passing along accustomed channels,

even a moderate compression of the eyeballs and a moderate distension

of the ocular vessels would ultimately come, through habit, to act on

the glands. We have an analogous case in the orbicular muscles being

almost always contracted in some slight degree, even during a gentle

crying-fit, when there can be no distension of the vessels and no

uncomfortable sensation excited within the eyes.

Moreover, when complex actions or movements have long been performed in

strict association together, and these are from any cause at first

voluntarily and afterwards habitually checked, then if the proper

exciting conditions occur, any part of the action or movement which is

least under the control of the will, will often still be involuntarily

performed. The secretion by a gland is remarkably free from the

influence of the will; therefore, when with the advancing age of the

individual, or with the advancing culture of the race, the habit of

crying out or screaming is restrained, and there is consequently no

distension of the blood-vessels of the eye, it may nevertheless well

happen that tears should still be secreted. We may see, as lately

remarked, the muscles round the eyes of a person who reads a pathetic

story, twitching or trembling in so slight a degree as hardly to be

detected. In this case there has been no screaming and no distension of

the blood-vessels, yet through habit certain nerve-cells send a small

amount of nerve-force to the cells commanding the muscles round the

eyes; and they likewise send some to the cells commanding the lacrymal

glands, for the eyes often become at the same time just moistened with

tears. If the twitching of the muscles round the eyes and the secretion

of tears had been completely prevented, nevertheless it is almost

certain that there would have been some tendency to transmit

nerve-force in these same directions; and as the lacrymal glands are

remarkably free from the control of the will, they would be eminently

liable still to act, thus betraying, though there were no other outward

signs, the pathetic thoughts which were passing through the person’s

mind.

As a further illustration of the view here advanced, I may remark that

if, during an early period of life, when habits of all kinds are

readily established, our infants, when pleased, had been accustomed to

utter loud peals of laughter (during which the vessels of their eyes

are distended) as often and as continuously as they have yielded when

distressed to screaming-fits, then it is probable that in after life

tears would have been as copiously and as regularly secreted under the

one state of mind as under the other. Gentle laughter, or a smile, or

even a pleasing thought, would have sufficed to cause a moderate

secretion of tears. There does indeed exist an evident tendency in this

direction, as will be seen in a future chapter, when we treat of the

tender feelings. With the Sandwich Islanders, according to

Freycinet,[624] tears are actually recognized as a sign of happiness;

but we should require better evidence on this head than that of a

passing voyager. So again if our infants, during many generations, and

each of them during several years, had almost daily suffered from

prolonged choking-fits, during which the vessels of the eye are

distended and tears copiously secreted, then it is probable, such is

the force of associated habit, that during after life the mere thought

of a choke, without any distress of mind, would have sufficed to bring

tears into our eyes.

To sum up this chapter, weeping is probably the result of some such

chain of events as follows. Children, when wanting food or suffering in

any way, cry out loudly, like the young of most other animals, partly

as a call to their parents for aid, and partly from any great exertion

serving relief. Prolonged screaming inevitably leads to the gorging of

the blood-vessels of the eye; and this will have led, at first

consciously and at last habitually, to the contraction of the muscles

round the eyes in order to protect them. At the same time the spasmodic

pressure on the surface of the eye, and the distension of the vessels

within the eye, without necessarily entailing any conscious sensation,

will have affected, through reflex action, the lacrymal glands.

Finally, through the three principles of nerve-force readily passing

along accustomed channels—of association, which is so widely extended

in its power—and of certain actions, being more under the control of

the will than others—it has come to pass that suffering readily causes

the secretion of tears, without being necessarily accompanied by any

other action.

Although in accordance with this view we must look at weeping as an

incidental result, as purposeless as the secretion of tears from a blow

outside the eye, or as a sneeze from the retina being affected by a

bright light, yet this does not present any difficulty in our

understanding how the secretion of tears serves as a relief to

suffering. And by as much as the weeping is more violent or hysterical,

by so much will the relief be greater,—on the same principle that the

writhing of the whole body, the grinding of the teeth, and the uttering

of piercing shrieks, all give relief under an agony of pain.

CHAPTER VII. LOW SPIRITS, ANXIETY, GRIEF, DEJECTION, DESPAIR.

General effect of grief on the system—Obliquity of the eyebrows under

suffering—On the cause of the obliquity of the eyebrows—On the

depression of the corners of the mouth.

After the mind has suffered from an acute paroxysm of grief, and the

cause still continues, we fall into a state of low spirits; or we may

be utterly cast down and dejected. Prolonged bodily pain, if not

amounting to an agony, generally leads to the same state of mind. If we

expect to suffer, we are anxious; if we have no hope of relief, we

despair.

Persons suffering from excessive grief often seek relief by violent and

almost frantic movements, as described in a former chapter; but when

their suffering is somewhat mitigated, yet prolonged, they no longer

wish for action, but remain motionless and passive, or may occasionally

rock themselves to and fro. The circulation becomes languid; the face

pale; the muscles flaccid; the eyelids droop; the head hangs on the

contracted chest; the lips, cheeks, and lower jaw all sink downwards

from their own weight. Hence all the features are lengthened; and the

face of a person who hears bad news is said to fall. A party of natives

in Tierra del Fuego endeavoured to explain to us that their friend, the

captain of a sealing vessel, was out of spirits, by pulling down their

cheeks with both hands, so as to make their faces as long as possible.

Mr. Bunnet informs me that the Australian aborigines when out of

spirits have a chop-fallen appearance. After prolonged suffering the

eyes become dull and lack expression, and are often slightly suffused

with tears. The eyebrows not rarely are rendered oblique, which is due

to their inner ends being raised. This produces peculiarly-formed

wrinkles on the forehead, which are very different from those of a

simple frown; though in some cases a frown alone may be present. The

comers of the mouth are drawn downwards, which is so universally

recognized as a sign of being out of spirits, that it is almost

proverbial.

The breathing becomes slow and feeble, and is often interrupted by deep

sighs. As Gratiolet remarks, whenever our attention is long

concentrated on any subject, we forget to breathe, and then relieve

ourselves by a deep inspiration; but the sighs of a sorrowful person,

owing to his slow respiration and languid circulation, are eminently

characteristic.[701] As the grief of a person in this state

occasionally recurs and increases into a paroxysm, spasms affect the

respiratory muscles, and he feels as if something, the so-called

_globus hystericus_, was rising in his throat. These spasmodic

movements are clearly allied to the sobbing of children, and are

remnants of those severer spasms which occur when a person is said to

choke from excessive grief.[702]

_Obliquity of the eyebrows_.—Two points alone in the above description

require further elucidation, and these are very curious ones; namely,

the raising of the inner ends of the eyebrows, and the drawing down of

the corners of the mouth. With respect to the eyebrows, they may

occasionally be seen to assume an oblique position in persons suffering

from deep dejection or anxiety; for instance, I have observed this

movement in a mother whilst speaking about her sick son; and it is

sometimes excited by quite trifling or momentary causes of real or

pretended distress. The eyebrows assume this position owing to the

contraction of certain muscles (namely, the orbiculars, corrugators,

and pyramidals of the nose, which together tend to lower and contract

the eyebrows) being partially cheeked by the more powerful action of

the central fasciæ of the frontal muscle. These latter fasciæ by their

contraction raise the inner ends alone of the eyebrows; and as the

corrugators at the same time draw the eyebrows together, their inner

ends become puckered into a fold or lump. This fold is a highly

characteristic point in the appearance of the eyebrows when rendered

oblique, as may be seen in figs. 2 and 5, Plate II. The eyebrows are at

the same time somewhat roughened, owing to the hairs being made to

project. Dr. J. Crichton Browne has also often noticed in melancholic

patients who keep their eyebrows persistently oblique, “a peculiar

acute arching of the upper eyelid.” A trace of this may be observed by

comparing the right and left eyelids of the young man in the photograph

(fig. 2, Plate II.); for he was not able to act equally on both

eyebrows. This is also shown by the unequal furrows on the two sides of

his forehead. The acute arching of the eyelids depends, I believe, on

the inner end alone of the eyebrows being raised; for when the whole

eyebrow is elevated and arched, the upper eyelid follows in a slight

degree the same movement.

Obliquity of the Eyebrows. Plate II

But the most conspicuous result of the opposed contraction of the

above-named muscles, is exhibited by the peculiar furrows formed on the

forehead. These muscles, when thus in conjoint yet opposed action, may

be called, for the sake of brevity, the grief-muscles. When a person

elevates his eyebrows by the contraction of the whole frontal muscle,

transverse wrinkles extend across the whole breadth of the forehead;

but in the present case the middle fasciae alone are contracted;

consequently, transverse furrows are formed across the middle part

alone of the forehead. The skin over the exterior parts of both

eyebrows is at the same time drawn downwards and smooth, by the

contraction of the outer portions of the orbicular muscles. The

eyebrows are likewise brought together through the simultaneous

contraction of the corrugators;[703] and this latter action generates

vertical furrows, separating the exterior and lowered part of the skin

of the forehead from the central and raised part. The union of these

vertical furrows with the central and transverse furrows (see figs. 2

and 3) produces a mark on the forehead which has been compared to a

horse-shoe; but the furrows more strictly form three sides of a

quadrangle. They are often conspicuous on the foreheads of adult or

nearly adult persons, when their eyebrows are made oblique; but with

young children, owing to their skin not easily wrinkling, they are

rarely seen, or mere traces of them can be detected.

These peculiar furrows are best represented in fig. 3, Plate II., on

the forehead of a young lady who has the power in an unusual degree of

voluntarily acting on the requisite muscles. As she was absorbed in the

attempt, whilst being photographed, her expression was not at all one

of grief; I have therefore given the forehead alone. Fig. 1 on the same

plate, copied from Dr. Duchenne’s work,[704] represents, on a reduced

scale, the face, in its natural state, of a young man who was a good

actor. In fig. 2 he is shown simulating grief, but the two eyebrows, as

before remarked, are not equally acted on. That the expression is true,

may be inferred from the fact that out of fifteen persons, to whom the

original photograph was shown, without any clue to what was intended

being given them, fourteen immediately answered, “despairing sorrow,”

“suffering endurance,” “melancholy,” and so forth. The history of fig.

5 is rather curious: I saw the photograph in a shop-window, and took it

to Mr. Rejlander for the sake of finding out by whom it had been made;

remarking to him how pathetic the expression was. He answered, “I made

it, and it was likely to be pathetic, for the boy in a few minutes

burst out crying.” He then showed me a photograph of the same boy in a

placid state, which I have had (fig. 4) reproduced. In fig. 6, a trace

of obliquity in the eyebrows may be detected; but this figure, as well

as fig. 7, is given to show the depression of the corners of the mouth,

to which subject I shall presently refer.

Few persons, without some practice, can voluntarily act on their

grief-muscles; but after repeated trials a considerable number succeed,

whilst others never can. The degree of obliquity in the eyebrows,

whether assumed voluntarily or unconsciously, differs much in different

persons. With some who apparently have unusually strong pyramidal

muscles, the contraction of the central fasciae of the frontal muscle,

although it may be energetic, as shown by the quadrangular furrows on

the forehead, does not raise the inner ends of the eyebrows, but only

prevents their being so much lowered as they otherwise would have been.

As far as I have been able to observe, the grief-muscles are brought

into action much more frequently by children and women than by men.

They are rarely acted on, at least with grown-up persons, from bodily

pain, but almost exclusively from mental distress. Two persons who,

after some practice, succeeded in acting on their grief-muscles, found

by looking at a mirror that when they made their eyebrows oblique, they

unintentionally at the same time depressed the corners of their mouths;

and this is often the case when the expression is naturally assumed.

The power to bring the grief-muscles freely into play appears to be

hereditary, like almost every other human faculty. A lady belonging to

a family famous for having produced an extraordinary number of great

actors and actresses, and who can herself give this expression “with

singular precision,” told Dr. Crichton Browne that all her family had

possessed the power in a remarkable degree. The same hereditary

tendency is said to have extended, as I likewise hear from Dr. Browne,

to the last descendant of the family, which gave rise to Sir Walter

Scott’s novel of ‘Red Gauntlet;’ but the hero is described as

contracting his forehead into a horseshoe mark from any strong emotion.

I have also seen a young woman whose forehead seemed almost habitually

thus contracted, independently of any emotion being at the time felt.

The grief-muscles are not very frequently brought into play; and as the

action is often momentary, it easily escapes observation. Although the

expression, when observed, is universally and instantly recognized as

that of grief or anxiety, yet not one person out of a thousand who has

never studied the subject, is able to say precisely what change passes

over the sufferer’s face. Hence probably it is that this expression is

not even alluded to, as far as I have noticed, in any work of fiction,

with the exception of ‘Red Gauntlet’ and of one other novel; and the

authoress of the latter, as I am informed, belongs to the famous family

of actors just alluded to; so that her attention may have been

specially called to the subject.

The ancient Greek sculptors were familiar with the expression, as shown

in the statues of the Laocoon and Arretino; but, as Duchenne remarks,

they carried the transverse furrows across the whole breadth of the

forehead, and thus committed a great anatomical mistake: this is

likewise the case in some modern statues. It is, however, more probable

that these wonderfully accurate observers intentionally sacrificed

truth for the sake of beauty, than that they made a mistake; for

rectangular furrows on the forehead would not have had a grand

appearance on the marble. The expression, in its fully developed

condition, is, as far as I can discover, not often represented in

pictures by the old masters, no doubt owing to the same cause; but a

lady who is perfectly familiar with this expression, informs me that in

Fra Angelico’s ‘Descent from the Cross’ in Florence, it is clearly

exhibited in one of the figures on the right-hand; and I could add a

few other instances.

Dr. Crichton Browne, at my request, closely attended to this expression

in the numerous insane patients under his care in the West Riding

Asylum; and he is familiar with Duchenne’s photographs of the action of

the grief-muscles. He informs me that they may constantly be seen in

energetic action in cases of melancholia, and especially of

hypochondria; and that the persistent lines or furrows, due to their

habitual contraction, are characteristic of the physiognomy of the

insane belonging to these two classes. Dr. Browne carefully observed

for me during a considerable period three cases of hypochondria, in

which the grief-muscles were persistently contracted. In one of these,

a widow, aged 51, fancied that she had lost all her viscera, and that

her whole body was empty. She wore an expression of great distress, and

beat her semi-closed hands rhythmically together for hours. The

grief-muscles were permanently contracted, and the upper eyelids

arched. This condition lasted for months; she then recovered, and her

countenance resumed its natural expression. A second case presented

nearly the same peculiarities, with the addition that the comers of the

mouth were depressed.

Mr. Patrick Nicol has also kindly observed for me several cases in the

Sussex Lunatic Asylum, and has communicated to me full details with

respect to three of them; but they need not here be given. From his

observations on melancholic patients, Mr. Nicol concludes that the

inner ends of the eyebrows are almost always more or less raised, with

the wrinkles on the forehead more or less plainly marked. In the case

of one young woman, these wrinkles were observed to be in constant

slight play or movement. In some cases the comers of the mouth are

depressed, but often only in a slight degree. Some amount of difference

in the expression of the several melancholic patients could almost

always be observed. The eyelids generally droop; and the skin near

their outer comers and beneath them is wrinkled. The naso-labial fold,

which runs from the wings of the nostrils to the comers of the mouth,

and which is so conspicuous in blubbering children, is often plainly

marked in these patients.

Although with the insane the grief-muscles often act persistently; yet

in ordinary cases they are sometimes brought unconsciously into

momentary action by ludicrously slight causes. A gentleman rewarded a

young lady by an absurdly small present; she pretended to be offended,

and as she upbraided him, her eyebrows became extremely oblique, with

the forehead properly wrinkled. Another young lady and a youth, both in

the highest spirits, were eagerly talking together with extraordinary

rapidity; and I noticed that, as often as the young lady was beaten,

and could not get out her words fast enough, her eyebrows went

obliquely upwards, and rectangular furrows were formed on her forehead.

She thus each time hoisted a flag of distress; and this she did

half-a-dozen times in the course of a few minutes. I made no remark on

the subject, but on a subsequent occasion I asked her to act on her

grief-muscles; another girl who was present, and who could do so

voluntarily, showing her what was intended. She tried repeatedly, but

utterly failed; yet so slight a cause of distress as not being able to

talk quickly enough, sufficed to bring these muscles over and over

again into energetic action.

The expression of grief, due to the contraction of the grief-muscles,

is by no means confined to Europeans, but appears to be common to all

the races of mankind. I have, at least, received trustworthy accounts

in regard to Hindoos, Dhangars (one of the aboriginal hill-tribes of

India, and therefore belonging to a quite distinct race from the

Hindoos), Malays, Negroes and Australians. With respect to the latter,

two observers answer my query in the affirmative, but enter into no

details. Mr. Taplin, however, appends to my descriptive remarks the

words “this is exact.” With respect to negroes, the lady who told me of

Fra Angelico’s picture, saw a negro towing a boat on the Nile, and as

he encountered an obstruction, she observed his grief-muscles in strong

action, with the middle of the forehead well wrinkled. Mr. Geach

watched a Malay man in Malacca, with the comers of his mouth much

depressed, the eyebrows oblique, with deep short grooves on the

forehead. This expression lasted for a very short time; and Mr. Geach

remarks it “was a strange one, very much like a person about to cry at

some great loss.”

In India Mr. H. Erskine found that the natives were familiar with this

expression; and Mr. J. Scott, of the Botanic Gardens, Calcutta, has

obligingly sent me a full description of two cases. He observed during

some time, himself unseen, a very young Dhangar woman from Nagpore, the

wife of one of the gardeners, nursing her baby who was at the point of

death; and he distinctly saw the eyebrows raised at the inner comers,

the eyelids drooping, the forehead wrinkled in the middle, the mouth

slightly open, with the comers much depressed. He then came from behind

a screen of plants and spoke to the poor woman, who started, burst into

a bitter flood of tears, and besought him to cure her baby. The second

case was that of a Hindustani man, who from illness and poverty was

compelled to sell his favourite goat. After receiving the money, he

repeatedly looked at the money in his hand and then at the goat, as if

doubting whether he would not return it. He went to the goat, which was

tied up ready to be led away, and the animal reared up and licked his

hands. His eyes then wavered from side to side; his “mouth was

partially closed, with the corners very decidedly depressed.” At last

the poor man seemed to make up his mind that he must part with his

goat, and then, as Mr. Scott saw, the eyebrows became slightly oblique,

with the characteristic puckering or swelling at the inner ends, but

the wrinkles on the forehead were not present. The man stood thus for a

minute, then heaving a deep sigh, burst into tears, raised up his two

hands, blessed the goat, turned round, and without looking again, went

away.

_On the cause of the obliquity of the eyebrows under suffering_.—During

several years no expression seemed to me so utterly perplexing as this

which we are here considering. Why should grief or anxiety cause the

central fasciae alone of the frontal muscle together with those round

the eyes, to contract? Here we seem to have a complex movement for the

sole purpose of expressing grief; and yet it is a comparatively rare

expression, and often overlooked. I believe the explanation is not so

difficult as it at first appears. Dr. Duchenne gives a photograph of

the young man before referred to, who, when looking upwards at a

strongly illuminated surface, involuntarily contracted his

grief-muscles in an exaggerated manner. I had entirely forgotten this

photograph, when on a very bright day with the sun behind me, I met,

whilst on horseback, a girl whose eyebrows, as she looked up at me,

became extremely oblique, with the proper furrows on her forehead. I

have observed the same movement under similar circumstances on several

subsequent occasions. On my return home I made three of my children,

without giving them any clue to my object, look as long and as

attentively as they could, at the summit of a tall tree standing

against an extremely bright sky. With all three, the orbicular,

corrugator, and pyramidal muscles were energetically contracted,

through reflex action, from the excitement of the retina, so that their

eyes might be protected from the bright light. But they tried their

utmost to look upwards; and now a curious struggle, with spasmodic

twitchings, could be observed between the whole or only the central

portion of the frontal muscle, and the several muscles which serve to

lower the eyebrows and close the eyelids. The involuntary contraction

of the pyramidal caused the basal part of their noses to be

transversely and deeply wrinkled. In one of the three children, the

whole eyebrows were momentarily raised and lowered by the alternate

contraction of the whole frontal muscle and of the muscles surrounding

the eyes, so that the whole breadth of the forehead was alternately

wrinkled and smoothed. In the other two children the forehead became

wrinkled in the middle part alone, rectangular furrows being thus

produced; and the eyebrows were rendered oblique, with their inner

extremities puckered and swollen,—in the one child in a slight degree,

in the other in a strongly marked manner. This difference in the

obliquity of the eyebrows apparently depended on a difference in their

general mobility, and in the strength of the pyramidal muscles. In both

these cases the eyebrows and forehead were acted on under the influence

of a strong light, in precisely the same manner, in every

characteristic detail, as under the influence of grief or anxiety.

Duchenne states that the pyramidal muscle of the nose is less under the

control of the will than are the other muscles round the eyes. He

remarks that the young man who could so well act on his grief-muscles,

as well as on most of his other facial muscles, could not contract the

pyramidals.[705] This power, however, no doubt differs in different

persons. The pyramidal muscle serves to draw down the skin of the

forehead between the eyebrows, together with their inner extremities.

The central fasciae of the frontal are the antagonists of the

pyramidal; and if the action of the latter is to be specially checked,

these central fasciae must be contracted. So that with persons having

powerful pyramidal muscles, if there is under the influence of a bright

light an unconscious desire to prevent the lowering of the eyebrows,

the central fasciae of the frontal muscle must be brought into play;

and their contraction, if sufficiently strong to overmaster the

pyramidals, together with the contraction of the corrugator and

orbicular muscles, will act in the manner just described on the

eyebrows and forehead.

When children scream or cry out, they contract, as we know, the

orbicular, corrugator, and pyramidal muscles, primarily for the sake of

compressing their eyes, and thus protecting them from being gorged with

blood, and secondarily through habit. I therefore expected to find with

children, that when they endeavoured either to prevent a crying-fit

from coming on, or to stop crying, they would cheek the contraction of

the above-named muscles, in the same manner as when looking upwards at

a bright light; and consequently that the central fasciae of the

frontal muscle would often be brought into play. Accordingly, I began

myself to observe children at such times, and asked others, including

some medical men, to do the same. It is necessary to observe carefully,

as the peculiar opposed action of these muscles is not nearly so plain

in children, owing to their foreheads not easily wrinkling, as in

adults. But I soon found that the grief-muscles were very frequently

brought into distinct action on these occasions. It would be

superfluous to give all the cases which have been observed; and I will

specify only a few. A little girl, a year and a half old, was teased by

some other children, and before bursting into tears her eyebrows became

decidedly oblique. With an older girl the same obliquity was observed,

with the inner ends of the eyebrows plainly puckered; and at the same

time the corners of the mouth were drawn downwards. As soon as she

burst into tears, the features all changed and this peculiar expression

vanished. Again, after a little boy had been vaccinated, which made him

scream and cry violently, the surgeon gave him an orange brought for

the purpose, and this pleased the child much; as he stopped crying all

the characteristic movements were observed, including the formation of

rectangular wrinkles in the middle of the forehead. Lastly, I met on

the road a little girl three or four years old, who had been frightened

by a dog, and when I asked her what was the matter, she stopped

whimpering, and her eyebrows instantly became oblique to an

extraordinary degree.

Here then, as I cannot doubt, we have the key to the problem why the

central fasciae of the frontal muscle and the muscles round the eyes

contract in opposition to each other under the influence of

grief;—whether their contraction be prolonged, as with the melancholic

insane, or momentary, from some trifling cause of distress. We have all

of us, as infants, repeatedly contracted our orbicular, corrugator, and

pyramidal muscles, in order to protect our eyes whilst screaming; our

progenitors before us have done the same during many generations; and

though with advancing years we easily prevent, when feeling distressed,

the utterance of screams, we cannot from long habit always prevent a

slight contraction of the above-named muscles; nor indeed do we observe

their contraction in ourselves, or attempt to stop it, if slight. But

the pyramidal muscles seem to be less under the command of the will

than the other related muscles; and if they be well developed, their

contraction can be checked only by the antagonistic contraction of the

central fasciae of the frontal muscle. The result which necessarily

follows, if these fasciae contract energetically, is the oblique

drawing up of the eyebrows, the puckering of their inner ends, and the

formation of rectangular furrows on the middle of the forehead. As

children and women cry much more freely than men, and as grown-up

persons of both sexes rarely weep except from mental distress, we can

understand why the grief-muscles are more frequently seen in action, as

I believe to be the case, with children and women than with men; and

with adults of both sexes from mental distress alone. In some of the

cases before recorded, as in that of the poor Dhangar woman and of the

Hindustani man, the action of the grief-muscles was quickly followed by

bitter weeping. In all cases of distress, whether great or small, our

brains tend through long habit to send an order to certain muscles to

contract, as if we were still infants on the point of screaming out;

but this order we, by the wondrous power of the will, and through

habit, are able partially to counteract; although this is effected

unconsciously, as far as the means of counteraction are concerned.

_On the depression of the corners of the mouth_.—This action is

effected by the _depressores anguili oris_ (see letter K in figs. 1 and

2). The fibres of this muscle diverge downwards, with the upper

convergent ends attached round the angles of the mouth, and to the

lower lip a little way within the angles.[706] Some of the fibres

appear to be antagonistic to the great zygomatic muscle, and others to

the several muscles running to the outer part of the upper lip. The

contraction of this muscle draws downwards and outwards the corners of

the mouth, including the outer part of the upper lip, and even in a

slight degree the wings of the nostrils. When the mouth is closed and

this muscle acts, the commissure or line of junction of the two lips

forms a curved line with the concavity downwards,[707] and the lips

themselves are generally somewhat protruded, especially the lower one.

The mouth in this state is well represented in the two photographs

(Plate II., figs. 6 and 7) by Mr. Rejlander. The upper boy (fig. 6) had

just stopped crying, after receiving a slap on the face from another

boy; and the right moment was seized for photographing him.

The expression of low spirits, grief or dejection, due to the

contraction of this muscle has been noticed by every one who has

written on the subject. To say that a person “is down in the mouth,” is

synonymous with saying that he is out of spirits. The depression of the

corners may often be seen, as already stated on the authority of Dr.

Crichton Browne and Mr. Nicol, with the melancholic insane, and was

well exhibited in some photographs sent to me by the former gentleman,

of patients with a strong tendency to suicide. It has been observed

with men belonging to various races, namely with Hindoos, the dark

hill-tribes of India, Malays, and, as the Rev. Mr. Hagenauer informs

me, with the aborigines of Australia.

When infants scream they firmly contract the muscles round their eyes,

and this draws up the upper lip; and as they have to keep their mouths

widely open, the depressor muscles running to the corners are likewise

brought into strong action. This generally, but not invariably, causes

a slight angular bend in the lower lip on both sides, near the corners

of the mouth. The result of the upper and lower lip being thus acted on

is that the mouth assumes a squarish outline. The contraction of the

depressor muscle is best seen in infants when not screaming violently,

and especially just before they begin, or when they cease to scream.

Their little faces then acquire an extremely piteous expression, as I

continually observed with my own infants between the ages of about six

weeks and two or three months. Sometimes, when they are struggling

against a crying-fit, the outline of the mouth is curved in so

exaggerated a manner as to be like a horseshoe; and the expression of

misery then becomes a ludicrous caricature.

The explanation of the contraction of this muscle, under the influence

of low spirits or dejection, apparently follows from the same general

principles as in the case of the obliquity of the eyebrows. Dr.

Duchenne informs me that he concludes from his observations, now

prolonged during many years, that this is one of the facial muscles

which is least under the control of the will. This fact may indeed be

inferred from what has just been stated with respect to infants when

doubtfully beginning to cry, or endeavouring to stop crying; for they

then generally command all the other facial muscles more effectually

than they do the depressors of the corners of the mouth. Two excellent

observers who had no theory on the subject, one of them a surgeon,

carefully watched for me some older children and women as with some

opposed struggling they very gradually approached the point of bursting

out into tears; and both observers felt sure that the depressors began

to act before any of the other muscles. Now as the depressors have been

repeatedly brought into strong action during infancy in many

generations, nerve-force will tend to flow, on the principle of long

associated habit, to these muscles as well as to various other facial

muscles, whenever in after life even a slight feeling of distress is

experienced. But as the depressors are somewhat less under the control

of the will than most of the other muscles, we might expect that they

would often slightly contract, whilst the others remained passive. It

is remarkable how small a depression of the corners of the mouth gives

to the countenance an expression of low spirits or dejection, so that

an extremely slight contraction of these muscles would be sufficient to

betray this state of mind.

I may here mention a trifling observation, as it will serve to sum up

our present subject. An old lady with a comfortable but absorbed

expression sat nearly opposite to me in a railway carriage. Whilst I

was looking at her, I saw that her _depressores anguli oris_ became

very slightly, yet decidedly, contracted; but as her countenance

remained as placid as ever, I reflected how meaningless was this

contraction, and how easily one might be deceived. The thought had

hardly occurred to me when I saw that her eyes suddenly became suffused

with tears almost to overflowing, and her whole countenance fell. There

could now be no doubt that some painful recollection, perhaps that of a

long-lost child, was passing through her mind. As soon as her sensorium

was thus affected, certain nerve-cells from long habit instantly

transmitted an order to all the respiratory muscles, and to those round

the mouth, to prepare for a fit of crying. But the order was

countermanded by the will, or rather by a later acquired habit, and all

the muscles were obedient, excepting in a slight degree the

_depressores anguli oris_. The mouth was not even opened; the

respiration was not hurried; and no muscle was affected except those

which draw down the corners of the mouth.

As soon as the mouth of this lady began, involuntarily and

unconsciously on her part, to assume the proper form for a crying-fit,

we may feel almost sure that some nerve-influence would have been

transmitted through the long accustomed channels to the various

respiratory muscles, as well as to those round the eyes, and to the

vaso-motor centre which governs the supply of blood sent to the

lacrymal glands. Of this latter fact we have indeed clear evidence in

her eyes becoming slightly suffused with tears; and we can understand

this, as the lacrymal glands are less under the control of the will

than the facial muscles. No doubt there existed at the same time some

tendency in the muscles round the eyes at contract, as if for the sake

of protecting them from being gorged with blood, but this contraction

was completely overmastered, and her brow remained unruffled. Had the

pyramidal, corrugator, and orbicular muscles been as little obedient to

the will, as they are in many persons, they would have been slightly

acted on; and then the central fasciae of the frontal muscle would have

contracted in antagonism, and her eyebrows would have become oblique,

with rectangular furrows on her forehead. Her countenance would then

have expressed still more plainly than it did a state of dejection, or

rather one of grief.

Through steps such as these we can understand how it is, that as soon

as some melancholy thought passes through the brain, there occurs a

just perceptible drawing down of the corners of the mouth, or a slight

raising up of the inner ends of the eyebrows, or both movements

combined, and immediately afterwards a slight suffusion of tears. A

thrill of nerve-force is transmitted along several habitual channels,

and produces an effect on any point where the will has not acquired

through long habit much power of interference. The above actions may be

considered as rudimental vestiges of the screaming-fits, which are so

frequent and prolonged during infancy. In this case, as well as in many

others, the links are indeed wonderful which connect cause and effect

in giving rise to various expressions on the human countenance; and

they explain to us the meaning of certain movements, which we

involuntarily and unconsciously perform, whenever certain transitory

emotions pass through our minds.

CHAPTER VIII. JOY, HIGH SPIRITS, LOVE, TENDER FEELINGS, DEVOTION.

Laughter primarily the expression of joy—Ludicrous ideas—Movements of

the features during laughter—Nature of the sound produced—The secretion

of tears during loud laughter—Gradation from loud laughter to gentle

smiling—High spirits—The expression of love—Tender feelings—Devotion.

Joy, when intense, leads to various purposeless movements—to dancing

about, clapping the hands, stamping, &c., and to loud laughter.

Laughter seems primarily to be the expression of mere joy or happiness.

We clearly see this in children at play, who are almost incessantly

laughing. With young persons past childhood, when they are in high

spirits, there is always much meaningless laughter. The laughter of the

gods is described by Homer as “the exuberance of their celestial joy

after their daily banquet.” A man smiles—and smiling, as we shall see,

graduates into laughter—at meeting an old friend in the street, as he

does at any trifling pleasure, such as smelling a sweet perfume.[801]

Laura Bridgman, from her blindness and deafness, could not have

acquired any expression through imitation, yet when a letter from a

beloved friend was communicated to her by gesture-language, she

“laughed and clapped her hands, and the colour mounted to her cheeks.”

On other occasions she has been seen to stamp for joy.[802]

Idiots and imbecile persons likewise afford good evidence that laughter

or smiling primarily expresses mere happiness or joy. Dr. Crichton

Browne, to whom, as on so many other occasions, I am indebted for the

results of his wide experience, informs me that with idiots laughter is

the most prevalent and frequent of all the emotional expressions. Many

idiots are morose, passionate, restless, in a painful state of mind, or

utterly stolid, and these never laugh. Others frequently laugh in a

quite senseless manner. Thus an idiot boy, incapable of speech,

complained to Dr. Browne, by the aid of signs, that another boy in the

asylum had given him a black eye; and this was accompanied by

“explosions of laughter and with his face covered with the broadest

smiles.” There is another large class of idiots who are persistently

joyous and benign, and who are constantly laughing or smiling.[803]

Their countenances often exhibit a stereotyped smile; their joyousness

is increased, and they grin, chuckle, or giggle, whenever food is

placed before them, or when they are caressed, are shown bright

colours, or hear music. Some of them laugh more than usual when they

walk about, or attempt any muscular exertion. The joyousness of most of

these idiots cannot possibly be associated, as Dr. Browne remarks, with

any distinct ideas: they simply feel pleasure, and express it by

laughter or smiles. With imbeciles rather higher in the scale, personal

vanity seems to be the commonest cause of laughter, and next to this,

pleasure arising from the approbation of their conduct.

With grown-up persons laughter is excited by causes considerably

different from those which suffice during childhood; but this remark

hardly applies to smiling. Laughter in this respect is analogous with

weeping, which with adults is almost confined to mental distress,

whilst with children it is excited by bodily pain or any suffering, as

well as by fear or rage. Many curious discussions have been written on

the causes of laughter with grown-up persons. The subject is extremely

complex. Something incongruous or unaccountable, exciting surprise and

some sense of superiority in the laugher, who must be in a happy frame

of mind, seems to be the commonest cause.[804] The circumstances must

not be of a momentous nature: no poor man would laugh or smile on

suddenly hearing that a large fortune had been bequeathed to him. If

the mind is strongly excited by pleasurable feelings, and any little

unexpected event or thought occurs, then, as Mr. Herbert Spencer

remarks,[805] “a large amount of nervous energy, instead of being

allowed to expend itself in producing an equivalent amount of the new

thoughts and emotion which were nascent, is suddenly checked in its

flow.”... “The excess must discharge itself in some other direction,

and there results an efflux through the motor nerves to various classes

of the muscles, producing the half-convulsive actions we term

laughter.” An observation, bearing on this point, was made by a

correspondent during the recent siege of Paris, namely, that the German

soldiers, after strong excitement from exposure to extreme danger, were

particularly apt to burst out into loud laughter at the smallest joke.

So again when young children are just beginning to cry, an unexpected

event will sometimes suddenly turn their crying into laughter, which

apparently serves equally well to expend their superfluous nervous

energy.

The imagination is sometimes said to be tickled by a ludicrous idea;

and this so-called tickling of the mind is curiously analogous with

that of the body. Every one knows how immoderately children laugh, and

how their whole bodies are convulsed when they are tickled. The

anthropoid apes, as we have seen, likewise utter a reiterated sound,

corresponding with our laughter, when they are tickled, especially

under the armpits. I touched with a bit of paper the sole of the foot

of one of my infants, when only seven days old, and it was suddenly

jerked away and the toes curled about, as in an older child. Such

movements, as well as laughter from being tickled, are manifestly

reflex actions; and this is likewise shown by the minute unstriped

muscles, which serve to erect the separate hairs on the body,

contracting near a tickled surface.[806] Yet laughter from a ludicrous

idea, though involuntary, cannot be called a strictly reflex action. In

this case, and in that of laughter from being tickled, the mind must be

in a pleasurable condition; a young child, if tickled by a strange man,

would scream from fear. The touch must be light, and an idea or event,

to be ludicrous, must not be of grave import. The parts of the body

which are most easily tickled are those which are not commonly touched,

such as the armpits or between the toes, or parts such as the soles of

the feet, which are habitually touched by a broad surface; but the

surface on which we sit offers a marked exception to this rule.

According to Gratiolet,[807] certain nerves are much more sensitive to

tickling than others. From the fact that a child can hardly tickle

itself, or in a much less degree than when tickled by another person,

it seems that the precise point to be touched must not be known; so

with the mind, something unexpected—a novel or incongruous idea which

breaks through an habitual train of thought—appears to be a strong

element in the ludicrous.

The sound of laughter is produced by a deep inspiration followed by

short, interrupted, spasmodic contractions of the chest, and especially

of the diaphragm.[808] Hence we hear of “laughter holding both his

sides.” From the shaking of the body, the head nods to and fro. The

lower jaw often quivers up and down, as is likewise the case with some

species of baboons, when they are much pleased.

Moderate Laughter and Smiling. Plate III

During laughter the mouth is opened more or less widely, with the

corners drawn much backwards, as well as a little upwards; and the

upper lip is somewhat raised. The drawing back of the corners is best

seen in moderate laughter, and especially in a broad smile—the latter

epithet showing how the mouth is widened. In the accompanying figs.

1-3, Plate III., different degrees of moderate laughter and smiling

have been photographed. The figure of the little girl, with the hat is

by Dr. Wallich, and the expression was a genuine one; the other two are

by Mr. Rejlander. Dr. Duchenne repeatedly insists[809] that, under the

emotion of joy, the mouth is acted on exclusively by the great

zygomatic muscles, which serve to draw the corners backwards and

upwards; but judging from the manner in which the upper teeth are

always exposed during laughter and broad smiling, as well as from my

own sensations, I cannot doubt that some of the muscles running to the

upper lip are likewise brought into moderate action. The upper and

lower orbicular muscles of the eyes are at the same time more or less

contracted; and there is an intimate connection, as explained in the

chapter on weeping, between the orbiculars, especially the lower ones

and some of the muscles running to the upper lip. Henle remarks[810] on

this head, that when a man closely shuts one eye he cannot avoid

retracting the upper lip on the same side; conversely, if any one will

place his finger on his lower eyelid, and then uncover his upper

incisors as much as possible, he will feel, as his upper lip is drawn

strongly upwards, that the muscles of the lower eyelid contract. In

Henle’s drawing, given in woodcut, fig. 2, the _musculus malaris_ (H)

which runs to the upper lip may be seen to form an almost integral part

of the lower orbicular muscle.

Dr. Duchenne has given a large photograph of an old man (reduced on

Plate III. fig 4), in his usual passive condition, and another of the

same man (fig. 5), naturally smiling. The latter was instantly

recognized by every one to whom it was shown as true to nature. He has

also given, as an example of an unnatural or false smile, another

photograph (fig. 6) of the same old man, with the corners of his mouth

strongly retracted by the galvanization of the great zygomatic muscles.

That the expression is not natural is clear, for I showed this

photograph to twenty-four persons, of whom three could not in the least

tell what was meant, whilst the others, though they perceived that the

expression was of the nature of a smile, answered in such words as “a

wicked joke,” “trying to laugh,” “grinning laughter.... half-amazed

laughter,” &c. Dr. Duchenne attributes the falseness of the expression

altogether to the orbicular muscles of the lower eyelids not being

sufficiently contracted; for he justly lays great stress on their

contraction in the expression of joy. No doubt there is much truth in

this view, but not, as it appears to me, the whole truth. The

contraction of the lower orbiculars is always accompanied, as we have

seen, by the drawing up of the upper lip. Had the upper lip, in fig. 6,

been thus acted on to a slight extent, its curvature would have been

less rigid, the naso-labial farrow would have been slightly different,

and the whole expression would, as I believe, have been more natural,

independently of the more conspicuous effect from the stronger

contraction of the lower eyelids. The corrugator muscle, moreover, in

fig. 6, is too much contracted, causing a frown; and this muscle never

acts under the influence of joy except during strongly pronounced or

violent laughter.

By the drawing backwards and upwards of the corners of the mouth,

through the contraction of the great zygomatic muscles, and by the

raising of the upper lip, the cheeks are drawn upwards. Wrinkles are

thus formed under the eyes, and, with old people, at their outer ends;

and these are highly characteristic of laughter or smiling. As a gentle

smile increases into a strong one, or into a laugh, every one may feel

and see, if he will attend to his own sensations and look at himself in

a mirror, that as the upper lip is drawn up and the lower orbiculars

contract, the wrinkles in the lower eyelids and those beneath the eyes

are much strengthened or increased. At the same time, as I have

repeatedly observed, the eyebrows are slightly lowered, which shows

that the upper as well as the lower orbiculars contract at least to

some degree, though this passes unperecived, as far as our sensations

are concerned. If the original photograph of the old man, with his

countenance in its usual placid state (fig. 4), be compared with that

(fig. 5) in which he is naturally smiling, it may be seen that the

eyebrows in the latter are a little lowered. I presume that this is

owing to the upper orbiculars being impelled, through the force of

long-associated habit, to act to a certain extent in concert with the

lower orbiculars, which themselves contract in connection with the

drawing up of the upper lip.

The tendency in the zygomatic muscles to contract under pleasurable

emotions is shown by a curious fact, communicated to me by Dr. Browne,

with respect to patients suffering from GENERAL PARALYSIS OF THE

INSANE.[811] “In this malady there is almost invariably

optimism—delusions as to wealth, rank, grandeur—insane joyousness,

benevolence, and profusion, while its very earliest physical symptom is

trembling at the corners of the mouth and at the outer corners of the

eyes. This is a well-recognized fact. Constant tremulous agitation of

the inferior palpebral and great zygomatic muscles is pathognomic of

the earlier stages of general paralysis. The countenance has a pleased

and benevolent expression. As the disease advances other muscles become

involved, but until complete fatuity is reached, the prevailing

expression is that of feeble benevolence.”

As in laughing and broadly smiling the cheeks and upper lip are much

raised, the nose appears to be shortened, and the skin on the bridge

becomes finely wrinkled in transverse lines, with other oblique

longitudinal lines on the sides. The upper front teeth are commonly

exposed. A well-marked naso-labial fold is formed, which runs from the

wing of each nostril to the corner of the mouth; and this fold is often

double in old persons.

A bright and sparkling eye is as characteristic of a pleased or amused

state of mind, as is the retraction of the corners of the mouth and

upper lip with the wrinkles thus produced. Even the eyes of

microcephalous idiots, who are so degraded that they never learn to

speak, brighten slightly when they are pleased.[812] Under extreme

laughter the eyes are too much suffused with tears to sparkle; but the

moisture squeezed out of the glands during moderate laughter or smiling

may aid in giving them lustre; though this must be of altogether

subordinate importance, as they become dull from grief, though they are

then often moist. Their brightness seems to be chiefly due to their

tenseness,[813] owing to the contraction of the orbicular muscles and

to the pressure of the raised cheeks. But, according to Dr. Piderit,

who has discussed this point more fully than any other writer,[814] the

tenseness may be largely attributed to the eyeballs becoming filled

with blood and other fluids, from the acceleration of the circulation,

consequent on the excitement of pleasure. He remarks on the contrast in

the appearance of the eyes of a hectic patient with a rapid

circulation, and of a man suffering from cholera with almost all the

fluids of his body drained from him. Any cause which lowers the

circulation deadens the eye. I remember seeing a man utterly prostrated

by prolonged and severe exertion during a very hot day, and a bystander

compared his eyes to those of a boiled codfish.

To return to the sounds produced during laughter. We can see in a vague

manner how the utterance of sounds of some kind would naturally become

associated with a pleasurable state of mind; for throughout a large

part of the animal kingdom vocal or instrumental sounds are employed

either as a call or as a charm by one sex for the other. They are also

employed as the means for a joyful meeting between the parents and

their offspring, and between the attached members of the same social

community. But why the sounds which man utters when he is pleased have

the peculiar reiterated character of laughter we do not know.

Nevertheless we can see that they would naturally be as different as

possible from the screams or cries of distress; and as in the

production of the latter, the expirations are prolonged and continuous,

with the inspirations short and interrupted, so it might perhaps have

been expected with the sounds uttered from joy, that the expirations

would have been short and broken with the inspirations prolonged; and

this is the case.

It is an equally obscure point why the corners of the mouth are

retracted and the upper lip raised during ordinary laughter. The mouth

must not be opened to its utmost extent, for when this occurs during a

paroxysm of excessive laughter hardly any sound is emitted; or it

changes its tone and seems to come from deep down in the throat. The

respiratory muscles, and even those of the limbs, are at the same time

thrown into rapid vibratory movements. The lower jaw often partakes of

this movement, and this would tend to prevent the mouth from being

widely opened. But as a full volume of sound has to be poured forth,

the orifice of the mouth must be large; and it is perhaps to gain this

end that the corners are retracted and the upper lip raised. Although

we can hardly account for the shape of the mouth during laughter, which

leads to wrinkles being formed beneath the eyes, nor for the peculiar

reiterated sound of laughter, nor for the quivering of the jaws,

nevertheless we may infer that all these effects are due to some common

cause. For they are all characteristic and expressive of a pleased

state of mind in various kinds of monkeys.

A graduated series can be followed from violent to moderate laughter,

to a broad smile, to a gentle smile, and to the expression of mere

cheerfulness. During excessive laughter the whole body is often thrown

backward and shakes, or is almost convulsed; the respiration is much

disturbed; the head and face become gorged with blood, with the veins

distended; and the orbicular muscles are spasmodically contracted in

order to protect the eyes. Tears are freely shed. Hence, as formerly

remarked, it is scarcely possible to point out any difference between

the tear-stained face of a person after a paroxysm of excessive

laughter and after a bitter crying-fit.[815] It is probably due to the

close similarity of the spasmodic movements caused by these widely

different emotions that hysteric patients alternately cry and laugh

with violence, and that young children sometimes pass suddenly from the

one to the other state. Mr. Swinhoe informs me that he has often seen

the Chinese, when suffering from deep grief, burst out into hysterical

fits of laughter.

I was anxious to know whether tears are freely shed during excessive

laughter by most of the races of men, and I hear from my correspondents

that this is the case. One instance was observed with the Hindoos, and

they themselves said that it often occurred. So it is with the Chinese.

The women of a wild tribe of Malays in the Malacca peninsula, sometimes

shed tears when they laugh heartily, though this seldom occurs. With

the Dyaks of Borneo it must frequently be the case, at least with the

women, for I hear from the Rajah C. Brooke that it is a common

expression with them to say “we nearly made tears from laughter.” The

aborigines of Australia express their emotions freely, and they are

described by my correspondents as jumping about and clapping their

hands for joy, and as often roaring with laughter. No less than four

observers have seen their eyes freely watering on such occasions; and

in one instance the tears rolled down their cheeks. Mr. Bulmer, a

missionary in a remote part of Victoria, remarks, “that they have a

keen sense of the ridiculous; they are excellent mimics, and when one

of them is able to imitate the peculiarities of some absent member of

the tribe, it is very common to hear all in the camp convulsed with

laughter.” With Europeans hardly anything excites laughter so easily as

mimicry; and it is rather curious to find the same fact with the

savages of Australia, who constitute one of the most distinct races in

the world.

In Southern Africa with two tribes of Kafirs, especially with the

women, their eyes often fill with tears during laughter. Gaika, the

brother of the chief Sandilli, answers my query on this head, with the

words, “Yes, that is their common practice.” Sir Andrew Smith has seen

the painted face of a Hottentot woman all furrowed with tears after a

fit of laughter. In Northern Africa, with the Abyssinians, tears are

secreted under the same circumstances. Lastly, in North America, the

same fact has been observed in a remarkably savage and isolated tribe,

but chiefly with the women; in another tribe it was observed only on a

single occasion.

Excessive laughter, as before remarked, graduates into moderate

laughter. In this latter case the muscles round the eyes are much less

contracted, and there is little or no frowning. Between a gentle laugh

and a broad smile there is hardly any difference, excepting that in

smiling no reiterated sound is uttered, though a single rather strong

expiration, or slight noise—a rudiment of a laugh—may often be heard at

the commencement of a smile. On a moderately smiling countenance the

contraction of the upper orbicular muscles can still just be traced by

a slight lowering of the eyebrows. The contraction of the lower

orbicular and palpebral muscles is much plainer, and is shown by the

wrinkling of the lower eyelids and of the skin beneath them, together

with a slight drawing up of the upper lip. From the broadest smile we

pass by the finest steps into the gentlest one. In this latter case the

features are moved in a much less degree, and much more slowly, and the

mouth is kept closed. The curvature of the naso-labial furrow is also

slightly different in the two cases. We thus see that no abrupt line of

demarcation can be drawn between the movement of the features during

the most violent laughter and a very faint smile.[816]

A smile, therefore, may be said to be the first stage in the

development of a laugh. But a different and more probable view may be

suggested; namely, that the habit of uttering load reiterated sounds

from a sense of pleasure, first led to the retraction of the corners of

the mouth and of the upper lip, and to the contraction of the orbicular

muscles; and that now, through association and long-continued habit,

the same muscles are brought into slight play whenever any cause

excites in us a feeling which, if stronger, would have led to laughter;

and the result is a smile.

Whether we look at laughter as the full development of a smile, or, as

is more probable, at a gentle smile as the last trace of a habit,

firmly fixed during many generations, of laughing whenever we are

joyful, we can follow in our infants the gradual passage of the one

into the other. It is well known to those who have the charge of young

infants, that it is difficult to feel sure when certain movements about

their mouths are really expressive; that is, when they really smile.

Hence I carefully watched my own infants. One of them at the age of

forty-five days, and being at the time in a happy frame of mind,

smiled; that is, the corners of the mouth were retracted, and

simultaneously the eyes became decidedly bright. I observed the same

thing on the following day; but on the third day the child was not

quite well and there was no trace of a smile, and this renders it

probable that the previous smiles were real. Eight days subsequently

and during the next succeeding week, it was remarkable how his eyes

brightened whenever he smiled, and his nose became at the same time

transversely wrinkled. This was now accompanied by a little bleating

noise, which perhaps represented a laugh. At the age of 113 days these

little noises, which were always made during expiration, assumed a

slightly different character, and were more broken or interrupted, as

in sobbing; and this was certainly incipient laughter. The change in

tone seemed to me at the time to be connected with the greater lateral

extension of the mouth as the smiles became broader.

In a second infant the first real smile was observed at about the same

age, viz. forty-five days; and in a third, at a somewhat earlier age.

The second infant, when sixty-five days old, smiled much more broadly

and plainly than did the one first mentioned at the same age; and even

at this early age uttered noises very like laughter. In this gradual

acquirement, by infants, of the habit of laughing, we have a case in

some degree analogous to that of weeping. As practice is requisite with

the ordinary movements of the body, such as walking, so it seems to be

with laughing and weeping. The art of screaming, on the other hand,

from being of service to infants, has become finely developed from the

earliest days.

_High spirits, cheerfulness_.—A man in high spirits, though he may not

actually smile, commonly exhibits some tendency to the retraction of

the corners of his mouth. From the excitement of pleasure, the

circulation becomes more rapid; the eyes are bright, and the colour of

the face rises. The brain, being stimulated by the increased flow of

blood, reacts on the mental powers; lively ideas pass still more

rapidly through the mind, and the affections are warmed. I heard a

child, a little under four years old, when asked what was meant by

being in good spirits, answer, “It is laughing, talking, and kissing.”

It would be difficult to give a truer and more practical definition. A

man in this state holds his body erect, his head upright, and his eyes

open. There is no drooping of the features, and no contraction of the

eyebrows. On the contrary, the frontal muscle, as Moreau observes,[817]

tends to contract slightly; and this smooths the brow, removes every

trace of a frown, arches the eyebrows a little, and raises the eyelids.

Hence the Latin phrase, _exporrigere frontem_—to unwrinkle the

brow—means, to be cheerful or merry. The whole expression of a man in

good spirits is exactly the opposite of that of one suffering from

sorrow. According to Sir C. Bell, “In all the exhilarating emotions the

eyebrows, eyelids, the nostrils, and the angles of the mouth are

raised. In the depressing passions it is the reverse.” Under the

influence of the latter the brow is heavy, the eyelids, cheeks, mouth,

and whole head droop; the eyes are dull; the countenance pallid, and

the respiration slow. In joy the face expands, in grief it lengthens.

Whether the principle of antithesis has here come into play in

producing these opposite expressions, in aid of the direct causes which

have been specified and which are sufficiently plain, I will not

pretend to say.

With all the races of man the expression of good spirit appears to be

the same, and is easily recognized. My informants, from various parts

of the Old and New Worlds, answer in the affirmative to my queries on

this head, and they give some particulars with respect to Hindoos,

Malays, and New Zealanders. The brightness of the eyes of the

Australians has struck four observers, and the same fact has been

noticed with Hindoos, New Zealanders, and the Dyaks of Borneo.

Savages sometimes express their satisfaction not only by smiling, but

by gestures derived from the pleasure of eating. Thus Mr. Wedgwood[818]

quotes Petherick that the negroes on the Upper Nile began a general

rubbing of their bellies when he displayed his beads; and Leichhardt

says that the Australians smacked and clacked their mouths at the sight

of his horses and bullocks, and more especially of his kangaroo dogs.

The Greenlanders, “when they affirm anything with pleasure, suck down

air with a certain sound;”[819] and this may be an imitation of the act

of swallowing savoury food.

Laughter is suppressed by the firm contraction of the orbicular muscles

of the mouth, which prevents the great zygomatic and other muscles from

drawing the lips backwards and upwards. The lower lip is also sometimes

held by the teeth, and this gives a roguish expression to the face, as

was observed with the blind and deaf Laura Bridgman.[820] The great

zygomatic muscle is sometimes variable in its course, and I have seen a

young woman in whom the _depressores anguli oris_ were brought into

strong action in suppressing a smile; but this by no means gave to her

countenance a melancholy expression, owing to the brightness of her

eyes.

Laughter is frequently employed in a forced manner to conceal or mask

some other state of mind, even anger. We often see persons laughing in

order to conceal their shame or shyness. When a person purses up his

mouth, as if to prevent the possibility of a smile, though there is

nothing to excite one, or nothing to prevent its free indulgence, an

affected, solemn, or pedantic expression is given; but of such hybrid

expressions nothing more need here be said. In the case of derision, a

real or pretended smile or laugh is often blended with the expression

proper to contempt, and this may pass into angry contempt or scorn. In

such cases the meaning of the laugh or smile is to show the offending

person that he excites only amusement.

_Love, tender feelings, &c_.—Although the emotion of love, for instance

that of a mother for her infant, is one of the strongest of which the

mind is capable, it can hardly be said to have any proper or peculiar

means of expression; and this is intelligible, as it has not habitually

led to any special line of action. No doubt, as affection is a

pleasurable sensation, it generally causes a gentle smile and some

brightening of the eyes. A strong desire to touch the beloved person is

commonly felt; and love is expressed by this means more plainly than by

any other.[821] Hence we long to clasp in our arms those whom we

tenderly love. We probably owe this desire to inherited habit, in

association with the nursing and tending of our children, and with the

mutual caresses of lovers.

With the lower animals we see the same principle of pleasure derived

from contact in association with love. Dogs and cats manifestly take

pleasure in rubbing against their masters and mistresses, and in being

rubbed or patted by them. Many kinds of monkeys, as I am assured by the

keepers in the Zoological Gardens, delight in fondling and being

fondled by each other, and by persons to whom they are attached. Mr.

Bartlett has described to me the behaviour of two chimpanzees, rather

older animals than those generally imported into this country, when

they were first brought together. They sat opposite, touching each

other with their much protruded lips; and the one put his hand on the

shoulder of the other. They then mutually folded each other in their

arms. Afterwards they stood up, each with one arm on the shoulder of

the other, lifted up their heads, opened their mouths, and yelled with

delight.[822]

We Europeans are so accustomed to kissing as a mark of affection, that

it might be thought to be innate in mankind; but this is not the case.

Steele was mistaken when he said “Nature was its author, and it began

with the first courtship.” Jemmy Button, the Fuegian, told me that this

practice was unknown in his land. It is equally unknown with the New

Zealanders, Tahitians, Papuans, Australians, Somals of Africa, and the

Esquimaux. But it is so far innate or natural that it apparently

depends on pleasure from close contact with a beloved person; and it is

replaced in various parts of the world, by the rubbing of noses, as

with the New Zealanders and Laplanders, by the rubbing or patting of

the arms, breasts, or stomachs, or by one man striking his own face

with the hands or feet of another. Perhaps the practice of blowing, as

a mark of affection, on various parts of the body may depend on the

same principle.[823]

The feelings which are called tender are difficult to analyse; they

seem to be compounded of affection, joy, and especially of sympathy.

These feelings are in themselves of a pleasurable nature, excepting

when pity is too deep, or horror is aroused, as in hearing of a

tortured man or animal. They are remarkable under our present point of

view from so readily exciting the secretion of tears. Many a father and

son have wept on meeting after a long separation, especially if the

meeting has been unexpected. No doubt extreme joy by itself tends to

act on the lacrymal glands; but on such occasions as the foregoing

vague thoughts of the grief which would have been felt had the father

and son never met, will probably have passed through their minds; and

grief naturally leads to the secretion of tears. Thus on the return of

Ulysses:—

“Telemachus Rose, and clung weeping round his father’s breast.

There the pent grief rained o’er them, yearning thus.

* * * * * *

Thus piteously they wailed in sore unrest,

And on their weepings had gone down the day,

But that at last Telemachus found words to say.”

_Worsley’s Translation of the Odyssey_, Book xvi. st. 27.

So again when Penelope at last recognized her husband:—

“Then from her eyelids the quick tears did start

And she ran to him from her place, and threw

Her arms about his neck, and a warm dew

Of kisses poured upon him, and thus spake:”

—Book xxiii. st. 27.

The vivid recollection of our former home, or of long-past happy days,

readily causes the eyes to be suffused with tears; but here, again, the

thought naturally occurs that these days will never return. In such

cases we may be said to sympathize with ourselves in our present, in

comparison with our former, state. Sympathy with the distresses of

others, even with the imaginary distresses of a heroine in a pathetic

story, for whom we feel no affection, readily excites tears. So does

sympathy with the happiness of others, as with that of a lover, at last

successful after many hard trials in a well-told tale.

Sympathy appears to constitute a separate or distinct emotion; and it

is especially apt to excite the lacrymal glands. This holds good

whether we give or receive sympathy. Every one must have noticed how

readily children burst out crying if we pity them for some small hurt.

With the melancholic insane, as Dr. Crichton Browne informs me, a kind

word will often plunge them into unrestrained weeping. As soon as we

express our pity for the grief of a friend, tears often come into our

own eyes. The feeling of sympathy is commonly explained by assuming

that, when we see or hear of suffering in another, the idea of

suffering is called up so vividly in our own minds that we ourselves

suffer. But this explanation is hardly sufficient, for it does not

account for the intimate alliance between sympathy and affection. We

undoubtedly sympathize far more deeply with a beloved than with an

indifferent person; and the sympathy of the one gives us far more

relief than that of the other. Yet assuredly we can sympathize with

those for whom we feel no affection.

Why suffering, when actually experienced by ourselves, excites weeping,

has been discussed in a former chapter. With respect to joy, its

natural and universal expression is laughter; and with all the races of

man loud laughter leads to the secretion of tears more freely than does

any other cause excepting distress. The suffusion of the eyes with

tears, which undoubtedly occurs under great joy, though there is no

laughter, can, as it seems to me, be explained through habit and

association on the same principles as the effusion of tears from grief,

although there is no screaming. Nevertheless it is not a little

remarkable that sympathy with the distresses of others should excite

tears more freely than our own distress; and this certainly is the

case. Many a man, from whose eyes no suffering of his own could wring a

tear, has shed tears at the sufferings of a beloved friend. It is still

more remarkable that sympathy with the happiness or good fortune of

those whom we tenderly love should lead to the same result, whilst a

similar happiness felt by ourselves would leave our eyes dry. We

should, however, bear in mind that the long-continued habit of

restraint which is so powerful in checking the free flow of tears from

bodily pain, has not been brought into play in preventing a moderate

effusion of tears in sympathy with the sufferings or happiness of

others.

Music has a wonderful power, as I have elsewhere attempted to

show,[824] of recalling in a vague and indefinite manner, those strong

emotions which were felt during long-past ages, when, as is probable,

our early progenitors courted each other by the aid of vocal tones. And

as several of our strongest emotions—grief, great joy, love, and

sympathy—lead to the free secretion of tears, it is not surprising that

music should be apt to cause our eyes to become suffused with tears,

especially when we are already softened by any of the tenderer

feelings. Music often produces another peculiar effect. We know that

every strong sensation, emotion, or excitement—extreme pain, rage,

terror, joy, or the passion of love—all have a special tendency to

cause the muscles to tremble; and the thrill or slight shiver which

runs down the backbone and limbs of many persons when they are

powerfully affected by music, seems to bear the same relation to the

above trembling of the body, as a slight suffusion of tears from the

power of music does to weeping from any strong and real emotion.

_Devotion_.—As devotion is, in some degree, related to affection,

though mainly consisting of reverence, often combined with fear, the

expression of this state of mind may here be briefly noticed. With some

sects, both past and present, religion and love have been strangely

combined; and it has even been maintained, lamentable as the fact may

be, that the holy kiss of love differs but little from that which a man

bestows on a woman, or a woman on a man.[825] Devotion is chiefly

expressed by the face being directed towards the heavens, with the

eyeballs upturned. Sir C. Bell remarks that, at the approach of sleep,

or of a fainting-fit, or of death, the pupils are drawn upwards and

inwards; and he believes that “when we are wrapt in devotional

feelings, and outward impressions are unheeded, the eyes are raised by

an action neither taught nor acquired.” and that this is due to the

same cause as in the above cases.[826] That the eyes are upturned

during sleep is, as I hear from Professor Donders, certain. With

babies, whilst sucking their mother’s breast, this movement of the

eyeballs often gives to them an absurd appearance of ecstatic delight;

and here it may be clearly perceived that a struggle is going on

against the position naturally assumed during sleep. But Sir C. Bell’s

explanation of the fact, which rests on the assumption that certain

muscles are more under the control of the will than others is, as I

hear from Professor Donders, incorrect. As the eyes are often turned up

in prayer, without the mind being so much absorbed in thought as to

approach to the unconsciousness of sleep, the movement is probably a

conventional one—the result of the common belief that Heaven, the

source of Divine power to which we pray, is seated above us.

A humble kneeling posture, with the hands upturned and palms joined,

appears to us, from long habit, a gesture so appropriate to devotion,

that it might be thought to be innate; but I have not met with any

evidence to this effect with the various extra-European races of

mankind. During the classical period of Roman history it does not

appear, as I hear from an excellent classic, that the hands were thus

joined during prayer. Mr. Rensleigh Wedgwood has apparently given[827]

the true explanation, though this implies that the attitude is one of

slavish subjection. “When the suppliant kneels and holds up his hands

with the palms joined, he represents a captive who proves the

completeness of his submission by offering up his hands to be bound by

the victor. It is the pictorial representation of the Latin _dare

manus_, to signify submission.” Hence it is not probable that either

the uplifting of the eyes or the joining of the open hands, under the

influence of devotional feelings, are innate or truly expressive

actions; and this could hardly have been expected, for it is very

doubtful whether feelings, such as we should now rank as devotional,

affected the hearts of men, whilst they remained during past ages in an

uncivilized condition.

CHAPTER IX. REFLECTION—MEDITATION-ILL-TEMPER—SULKINESS—DETERMINATION.

The act of frowning—Reflection with an effort, or with the perception

of something difficult or disagreeable—Abstracted

meditation—Ill-temper—Moroseness—Obstinacy Sulkiness and

pouting—Decision or determination—The firm closure of the mouth.

The corrugators, by their contraction, lower the eyebrows and bring

them together, producing vertical furrows on the forehead—that is, a

frown. Sir C. Bell, who erroneously thought that the corrugator was

peculiar to man, ranks it as “the most remarkable muscle of the human

face. It knits the eyebrows with an energetic effort, which

unaccountably, but irresistibly, conveys the idea of mind.” Or, as he

elsewhere says, “when the eyebrows are knit, energy of mind is

apparent, and there is the mingling of thought and emotion with the

savage and brutal rage of the mere animal.”[901] There is much truth in

these remarks, but hardly the whole truth. Dr. Duchenne has called the

corrugator the muscle of reflection;[902] but this name, without some

limitation, cannot be considered as quite correct.

A man may be absorbed in the deepest thought, and his brow will remain

smooth until he encounters some obstacle in his train of reasoning, or

is interrupted by some disturbance, and then a frown passes like a

shadow over his brow. A half-starved man may think intently how to

obtain food, but he probably will not frown unless he encounters either

in thought or action some difficulty, or finds the food when obtained

nauseous. I have noticed that almost everyone instantly frowns if he

perceives a strange or bad taste in what he is eating. I asked several

persons, without explaining my object, to listen intently to a very

gentle tapping sound, the nature and source of which they all perfectly

knew, and not one frowned; but a man who joined us, and who could not

conceive what we were all doing in profound silence, when asked to

listen, frowned much, though not in an ill-temper, and said he could

not in the least understand what we all wanted. Dr. Piderit[903] who

has published remarks to the same effect, adds that stammerers

generally frown in speaking, and that a man in doing even so trifling a

thing as pulling on a boot, frowns if he finds it too tight. Some

persons are such habitual frowners, that the mere effort of speaking

almost always causes their brows to contract.

Men of all races frown when they are in any way perplexed in thought,

as I infer from the answers which I have received to my queries; but I

framed them badly, confounding absorbed meditation with perplexed

reflection. Nevertheless, it is clear that the Australians, Malays,

Hindoos, and Kafirs of South Africa frown, when they are puzzled.

Dobritzhoffer remarks that the Guaranies of South America on like

occasions knit their brows.[904]

From these considerations, we may conclude that frowning is not the

expression of simple reflection, however profound, or of attention,

however close, but of something difficult or displeasing encountered in

a train of thought or in action. Deep reflection can, however, seldom

be long carried on without some difficulty, so that it will generally

be accompanied by a frown. Hence it is that frowning commonly gives to

the countenance, as Sir C. Bell remarks, an aspect of intellectual

energy. But in order that this effect may be produced, the eyes must be

clear and steady, or they may be cast downwards, as often occurs in

deep thought. The countenance must not be otherwise disturbed, as in

the case of an ill-tempered or peevish man, or of one who shows the

effects of prolonged suffering, with dulled eyes and drooping jaw, or

who perceives a bad taste in his food, or who finds it difficult to

perform some trifling act, such as threading a needle. In these cases a

frown may often be seen, but it will be accompanied by some other

expression, which will entirely prevent the countenance having an

appearance of intellectual energy or of profound thought.

We may now inquire how it is that a frown should express the perception

of something difficult or disagreeable, either in thought or action. In

the same way as naturalists find it advisable to trace the

embryological development of an organ in order fully to understand its

structure, so with the movements of expression it is advisable to

follow as nearly as possible the same plan. The earliest and almost

sole expression seen during the first days of infancy, and then often

exhibited is that displayed during the act of screaming; and screaming

is excited, both at first and for some time afterwards, by every

distressing or displeasing sensation and emotion,—by hunger, pain,

anger, jealousy, fear, &c. At such times the muscles round the eyes are

strongly contracted; and this, as I believe, explains to a large extent

the act of frowning during the remainder of our lives. I repeatedly

observed my own infants, from under the age of one week to that of two

or three months, and found that when a screaming-fit came on gradually,

the first sign was the contraction of the corrugators, which produced a

slight frown, quickly followed by the contraction of the other muscles

round the eyes. When an infant is uncomfortable or unwell, little

frowns—as I record in my notes—may be seen incessantly passing like

shadows over its face; these being generally, but not always, followed

sooner or later by a crying-fit. For instance, I watched for some time

a baby, between seven and eight weeks old, sucking some milk which was

cold, and therefore displeasing to him; and a steady little frown was

maintained all the time. This was never developed into an actual

crying-fit, though occasionally every stage of close approach could be

observed.

As the habit of contracting the brows has been followed by infants

during innumerable generations, at the commencement of every crying or

screaming fit, it has become firmly associated with the incipient sense

of something distressing or disagreeable. Hence under similar

circumstances it would be apt to be continued during maturity, although

never then developed into a crying-fit. Screaming or weeping begins to

be voluntarily restrained at an early period of life, whereas frowning

is hardly ever restrained at any age. It is perhaps worth notice that

with children much given to weeping, anything which perplexes their

minds, and which would cause most other children merely to frown,

readily makes them weep. So with certain classes of the insane, any

effort of mind, however slight, which with an habitual frowner would

cause a slight frown, leads to their weeping in an unrestrained manner.

It is not more surprising that the habit of contracting the brows at

the first perception of something distressing, although gained during

infancy, should be retained during the rest of our lives, than that

many other associated habits acquired at an early age should be

permanently retained both by man and the lower animals. For instance,

full-grown cats, when feeling warm and comfortable, often retain the

habit of alternately protruding their fore-feet with extended toes,

which habit they practised for a definite purpose whilst sucking their

mothers.

Another and distinct cause has probably strengthened the habit of

frowning, whenever the mind is intent on any subject and encounters

some difficulty. Vision is the most important of all the senses, and

during primeval times the closest attention must have been incessantly:

directed towards distant objects for the sake of obtaining prey and

avoiding danger. I remember being struck, whilst travelling in parts of

South America, which were dangerous from the presence of Indians, how

incessantly, yet as it appeared unconsciously, the half-wild Gauchos

closely scanned the whole horizon. Now, when any one with no covering

on his head (as must have been aboriginally the case with mankind),

strives to the utmost to distinguish in broad daylight, and especially

if the sky is bright, a distant object, he almost invariably contracts

his brows to prevent the entrance of too much light; the lower eyelids,

cheeks, and upper lip being at the same time raised, so as to lessen

the orifice of the eyes. I have purposely asked several persons, young

and old, to look, under the above circumstances, at distant objects,

making them believe that I only wished to test the power of their

vision; and they all behaved in the manner just described. Some of

them, also, put their open, flat hands over their eyes to keep out the

excess of light. Gratiolet, after making some remarks to nearly the

same effect,[905] says, “Ce sont là des attitudes de vision difficile.”

He concludes that the muscles round the eyes contract partly for the

sake of excluding too much light (which appears to me the more

important end), and partly to prevent all rays striking the retina,

except those which come direct from the object that is scrutinized. Mr.

Bowman, whom I consulted on this point, thinks that the contraction of

the surrounding muscles may, in addition, “partly sustain the

consensual movements of the two eyes, by giving a firmer support while

the globes are brought to binocular vision by their own proper

muscles.”

As the effort of viewing with care under a bright light a distant

object is both difficult and irksome, and as this effort has been

habitually accompanied, during numberless generations, by the

contraction of the eyebrows, the habit of frowning will thus have been

much strengthened; although it was originally practised during infancy

from a quite independent cause, namely as the first step in the

protection of the eyes during screaming. There is, indeed, much

analogy, as far as the state of the mind is concerned, between intently

scrutinizing a distant object, and following out an obscure train of

thought, or performing some little and troublesome mechanical work. The

belief that the habit of contracting the brows is continued when there

is no need whatever to exclude too much light, receives support from

the cases formerly alluded to, in which the eyebrows or eyelids are

acted on under certain circumstances in a useless manner, from having

been similarly used, under analogous circumstances, for a serviceable

purpose. For instance, we voluntarily close our eyes when we do not

wish to see any object, and we are apt to close them, when we reject a

proposition, as if we could not or would not see it; or when we think

about something horrible. We raise our eyebrows when we wish to see

quickly all round us, and we often do the same, when we earnestly

desire to remember something; acting as if we endeavoured to see it.

_Abstraction. Meditation_.—When a person is lost in thought with his

mind absent, or, as it is sometimes said, “when he is in a brown

study,” he does not frown, but his eyes appear vacant. The lower

eyelids are generally raised and wrinkled, in the same manner as when a

short-sighted person tries to distinguish a distant object; and the

upper orbicular muscles are at the same time slightly contracted. The

wrinkling of the lower eyelids under these circumstances has been

observed with some savages, as by Mr. Dyson Lacy with the Australians

of Queensland, and several times by Mr. Geach with the Malays of the

interior of Malacca. What the meaning or cause of this action may be,

cannot at present be explained; but here we have another instance of

movement round the eyes in relation to the state of the mind.

The vacant expression of the eyes is very peculiar, and at once shows

when a man is completely lost in thought. Professor Donders has, with

his usual kindness, investigated this subject for me. He has observed

others in this condition, and has been himself observed by Professor

Engelmann. The eyes are not then fixed on any object, and therefore

not, as I had imagined, on some distant object. The lines of vision of

the two eyes even often become slightly divergent; the divergence, if

the head be held vertically, with the plane of vision horizontal,

amounting to an angle of 2° as a maximum. This was ascertained by

observing the crossed double image of a distant object. When the head

droops forward, as often occurs with a man absorbed in thought, owing

to the general relaxation of his muscles, if the plane of vision be

still horizontal, the eyes are necessarily a little turned upwards, and

then the divergence is as much as 3°, or 3° 5’: if the eyes are turned

still more upwards, it amounts to between 6° and 7°. Professor Donders

attributes this divergence to the almost complete relaxation of certain

muscles of the eyes, which would be apt to follow from the mind being

wholly absorbed.[906] The active condition of the muscles of the eyes

is that of convergence; and Professor Donders remarks, as bearing on

their divergence during a period of complete abstraction, that when one

eye becomes blind, it almost always, after a short lapse of time,

deviates outwards; for its muscles are no longer used in moving the

eyeball inwards for the sake of binocular vision.

Perplexed reflection is often accompanied by certain movements or

gestures. At such times we commonly raise our hands to our foreheads,

mouths, or chins; but we do not act thus, as far as I have seen, when

we are quite lost in meditation, and no difficulty is encountered.

Plautus, describing in one of his plays[907] a puzzled man, says, “Now

look, he has pillared his chin upon his hand.” Even so trifling and

apparently unmeaning a gesture as the raising of the hand to the face

has been observed with some savages. Mr. J. Mansel Weale has seen it

with the Kafirs of South Africa; and the native chief Gaika adds, that

men then “sometimes pull their beards.” Mr. Washington Matthews, who

attended to some of the wildest tribes of Indians in the western

regions of the United States, remarks that he has seen them when

concentrating their thoughts, bring their “hands, usually the thumb and

index finger, in contact with some part of the face, commonly the upper

lip.” We can understand why the forehead should be pressed or rubbed,

as deep thought tries the brain; but why the hand should be raised to

the mouth or face is far from clear.

_Ill-temper_.—We have seen that frowning is the natural expression of

some difficulty encountered, or of something disagreeable experienced

either in thought or action, and he whose mind is often and readily

affected in this way, will be apt to be ill-tempered, or slightly

angry, or peevish, and will commonly show it by frowning. But a cross

expression, due to a frown, may be counteracted, if the mouth appears

sweet, from being habitually drawn into a smile, and the eyes are

bright and cheerful. So it will be if the eye is clear and steady, and

there is the appearance of earnest reflection. Frowning, with some

depression of the corners of the mouth, which is a sign of grief, gives

an air of peevishness. If a child (see Plate IV., fig. 2)[908] frowns

much whilst crying, but does not strongly contract in the usual manner

the orbicular muscles, a well-marked expression of anger or even of

rage, together with misery, is displayed.

Ill-temper. Plate IV

If the whole frowning brow be drawn much downward by the contraction of

the pyramidal muscles of the nose, which produces transverse wrinkles

or folds across the base of the nose, the expression becomes one of

moroseness. Duchenne believes that the contraction of this muscle,

without any frowning, gives the appearance of extreme and aggressive

hardness.[909] But I much doubt whether this is a true or natural

expression. I have shown Duchenne’s photograph of a young man, with

this muscle strongly contracted by means of galvanism, to eleven

persons, including some artists, and none of them could form an idea

what was intended, except one, a girl, who answered correctly, “surely

reserve.” When I first looked at this photograph, knowing what was

intended, my imagination added, as I believe, what was necessary,

namely, a frowning brow; and consequently the expression appeared to me

true and extremely morose.

A firmly closed mouth, in addition to a lowered and frowning brow,

gives determination to the expression, or may make it obstinate and

sullen. How it comes that the firm closure of the mouth gives the

appearance of determination will presently be discussed. An expression

of sullen obstinacy has been clearly recognized by my informants, in

the natives of six different regions of Australia. It is well marked,

according to Mr. Scott, with the Hindoos. It has been recognized with

the Malays, Chinese, Kafirs, Abyssinians, and in a conspicuous degree,

according to Dr. Rothrock, with the wild Indians of North America, and

according to Mr. D. Forbes, with the Aymaras of Bolivia. I have also

observed it with the Araucanos of southern Chili. Mr. Dyson Lacy

remarks that the natives of Australia, when in this frame of mind,

sometimes fold their arms across their breasts, an attitude which may

be seen with us. A firm determination, amounting to obstinacy, is,

also, sometimes expressed by both shoulders being kept raised, the

meaning of which gesture will be explained in the following chapter.

With young children sulkiness is shown by pouting, or, as it is

sometimes called, “making a snout.”[910] When the corners of the mouth

are much depressed, the lower lip is a little everted and protruded;

and this is likewise called a pout. But the pouting here referred to,

consists of the protrusion of both lips into a tubular form, sometimes

to such an extent as to project as far as the end of the nose, if this

be short. Pouting is generally accompanied by frowning, and sometimes

by the utterance of a booing or whooing noise. This expression is

remarkable, as almost the sole one, as far as I know, which is

exhibited much more plainly during childhood, at least with Europeans,

than during maturity. There is, however, some tendency to the

protrusion of the lips with the adults of all races under the influence

of great rage. Some children pout when they are shy, and they can then

hardly be called sulky.

From inquiries which I have made in several large families, pouting

does not seem very common with European children; but it prevails

throughout the world, and must be both common and strongly marked with

most savage races, as it has caught the attention of many observers. It

has been noticed in eight different districts of Australia; and one of

my informants remarks how greatly the lips of the children are then

protruded. Two observers have seen pouting with the children of

Hindoos; three, with those of the Kafirs and Fingoes of South Africa,

and with the Hottentots; and two, with the children of the wild Indians

of North America. Pouting has also been observed with the Chinese,

Abyssinians, Malays of Malacca, Dyaks of Borneo, and often with the New

Zealanders. Mr. Mansel Weale informs me that he has seen the lips much

protruded, not only with the children of the Kafirs, but with the

adults of both sexes when sulky; and Mr. Stack has sometimes observed

the same thing with the men, and very frequently with the women of New

Zealand. A trace of the same expression may occasionally be detected

even with adult Europeans.

We thus see that the protrusion of the lips, especially with young

children, is characteristic of sulkiness throughout the greater part of

the world. This movement apparently results from the retention, chiefly

during youth, of a primordial habit, or from an occasional reversion to

it. Young orangs and chimpanzees protrude their lips to an

extraordinary degree, as described in a former chapter, when they are

discontented, somewhat angry, or sulky; also when they are surprised, a

little frightened, and even when slightly pleased. Their mouths are

protruded apparently for the sake of making the various noises proper

to these several states of mind; and its shape, as I observed with the

chimpanzee, differed slightly when the cry of pleasure and that of

anger were uttered. As soon as these animals become enraged, the shape

of the month wholly changes, and the teeth are exposed. The adult orang

when wounded is said to emit “a singular cry, consisting at first of

high notes, which at length deepen into a low roar. While giving out

the high notes he thrusts out his lips into a funnel shape, but in

uttering the low notes he holds his mouth wide open.”[911] With the

gorilla, the lower lip is said to be capable of great elongation. If

then our semi-human progenitors protruded their lips when sulky or a

little angered, in the same manner as do the existing anthropoid apes,

it is not an anomalous, though a curious fact, that our children should

exhibit, when similarly affected, a trace of the same expression,

together with some tendency to utter a noise. For it is not at all

unusual for animals to retain, more or less perfectly, during early

youth, and subsequently to lose, characters which were aboriginally

possessed by their adult progenitors, and which are still retained by

distinct species, their near relations.

Nor is it an anomalous fact that the children of savages should exhibit

a stronger tendency to protrude their lips, when sulky, than the

children of civilized Europeans; for the essence of savagery seems to

consist in the retention of a primordial condition, and this

occasionally holds good even with bodily peculiarities.[912] It may be

objected to this view of the origin of pouting, that the anthropoid

apes likewise protrude their lips when astonished and even when a

little pleased; whilst with us this expression is generally confined to

a sulky frame of mind. But we shall see in a future chapter that with

men of various races surprise does sometimes lead to a slight

protrusion of the lips, though great surprise or astonishment is more

commonly shown by the mouth being widely opened. As when we smile or

laugh we draw back the corners of the mouth, we have lost any tendency

to protrude the lips, when pleased, if indeed our early progenitors

thus expressed pleasure.

A little gesture made by sulky children may here be noticed, namely,

their “showing a cold shoulder.” This has a different meaning, as, I

believe, from the keeping both shoulders raised. A cross child, sitting

on its parent’s knee, will lift up the near shoulder, then jerk it

away, as if from a caress, and afterwards give a backward push with it,

as if to push away the offender. I have seen a child, standing at some

distance from any one, clearly express its feelings by raising one

shoulder, giving it a little backward movement, and then turning away

its whole body.

_Decision or determination_.—The firm closure of the mouth tends to

give an expression of determination or decision to the countenance. No

determined man probably ever had an habitually gaping mouth. Hence,

also, a small and weak lower jaw, which seems to indicate that the

mouth is not habitually and firmly closed, is commonly thought to be

characteristic of feebleness of character. A prolonged effort of any

kind, whether of body or mind, implies previous determination; and if

it can be shown that the mouth is generally closed with firmness before

and during a great and continued exertion of the muscular system, then,

through the principle of association, the mouth would almost certainly

be closed as soon as any determined resolution was taken. Now several

observers have noticed that a man, in commencing any violent muscular

effort, invariably first distends his lungs with air, and then

compresses it by the strong contraction of the muscles of the chest;

and to effect this the mouth must be firmly closed. Moreover, as soon

as the man is compelled to draw breath, he still keeps his chest as

much distended as possible.

Various causes have been assigned for this manner of acting. Sir C.

Bell maintains[913] that the chest is distended with air, and is kept

distended at such times, in order to give a fixed support to the

muscles which are thereto attached. Hence, as he remarks, when two men

are engaged in a deadly contest, a terrible silence prevails, broken

only by hard stifled breathing. There is silence, because to expel the

air in the utterance of any sound would be to relax the support for the

muscles of the arms. If an outcry is heard, supposing the struggle to

take place in the dark, we at once know that one of the two has given

up in despair.

Gratiolet admits[914] that when a man has to struggle with another to

his utmost, or has to support a great weight, or to keep for a long

time the same forced attitude, it is necessary for him first to make a

deep inspiration, and then to cease breathing; but he thinks that Sir

C. Bell’s explanation is erroneous. He maintains that arrested

respiration retards the circulation of the blood, of which I believe

there is no doubt, and he adduces some curious evidence from the

structure of the lower animals, showing, on the one hand, that a

retarded circulation is necessary for prolonged muscular exertion, and,

on the other hand, that a rapid circulation is necessary for rapid

movements. According to this view, when we commence any great exertion,

we close our mouths and stop breathing, in order to retard the

circulation of the blood. Gratiolet sums up the subject by saying,

“C’est là la vraie théorie de l’effort continu;” but how far this

theory is admitted by other physiologists I do not know.

Dr. Piderit accounts[915] for the firm closure of the mouth during

strong muscular exertion, on the principle that the influence of the

will spreads to other muscles besides those necessarily brought into

action in making any particular exertion; and it is natural that the

muscles of respiration and of the mouth, from being so habitually used,

should be especially liable to be thus acted on. It appears to me that

there probably is some truth in this view, for we are apt to press the

teeth hard together during violent exertion, and this is not requisite

to prevent expiration, whilst the muscles of the chest are strongly

contracted.

Lastly, when a man has to perform some delicate and difficult

operation, not requiring the exertion of any strength, he nevertheless

generally closes his mouth and ceases for a time to breathe; but he

acts thus in order that the movements of his chest may not disturb,

those of his arms. A person, for instance, whilst threading a needle,

may be seen to compress his lips and either to stop breathing, or to

breathe as quietly as possible. So it was, as formerly stated, with a

young and sick chimpanzee, whilst it amused itself by killing flies

with its knuckles, as they buzzed about on the window-panes. To perform

an action, however trifling, if difficult, implies some amount of

previous determination.

There appears nothing improbable in all the above assigned causes

having come into play in different degrees, either conjointly or

separately, on various occasions. The result would be a

well-established habit, now perhaps inherited, of firmly closing the

mouth at the commencement of and during any violent and prolonged

exertion, or any delicate operation. Through the principle of

association there would also be a strong tendency towards this same

habit, as soon as the mind had resolved on any particular action or

line of conduct, even before there was any bodily exertion, or if none

were requisite. The habitual and firm closure of the mouth would thus

come to show decision of character; and decision readily passes into

obstinacy.

CHAPTER X. HATRED AND ANGER.

Hatred—Rage, effects of on the system—Uncovering of the teeth—Rage in

the insane—Anger and indignation—As expressed by the various races of

man—Sneering and defiance—The uncovering of the canine tooth on one

side of the face.

If we have suffered or expect to suffer some wilful injury from a man,

or if he is in any way offensive to us, we dislike him; and dislike

easily rises into hatred. Such feelings, if experienced in a moderate

degree, are not clearly expressed by any movement of the body or

features, excepting perhaps by a certain gravity of behaviour, or by

some ill-temper. Few individuals, however, can long reflect about a

hated person, without feeling and exhibiting signs of indignation or

rage. But if the offending person be quite insignificant, we experience

merely disdain or contempt. If, on the other hand, he is all-powerful,

then hatred passes into terror, as when a slave thinks about a cruel

master, or a savage about a bloodthirsty malignant deity.[1001] Most of

our emotions are so closely connected with their expression, that they

hardly exist if the body remains passive—the nature of the expression

depending in chief part on the nature of the actions which have been

habitually performed under this particular state of the mind. A man,

for instance, may know that his life is in the extremest peril, and may

strongly desire to save if; yet, as Louis XVI. said, when surrounded by

a fierce mob, “Am I afraid? feel my pulse.” So a man may intensely hate

another, but until his bodily frame is affected, he cannot be said to

be enraged.

_Rage_.—I have already had occasion to treat of this emotion in the

third chapter, when discussing the direct influence of the excited

sensorium on the body, in combination with the effects of habitually

associated actions. Rage exhibits itself in the most diversified

manner. The heart and circulation are always affected; the face reddens

or becomes purple, with the veins on the forehead and neck distended.

The reddening of the skin has been observed with the copper-coloured

Indians of South America,[1002] and even, as it is said, on the white

cicatrices left by old wounds on negroes.[1003] Monkeys also redden

from passion. With one of my own infants, under four months old, I

repeatedly observed that the first symptom of an approaching passion

was the rushing of the blood into his bare scalp. On the other hand,

the action of the heart is sometimes so much impeded by great rage,

that the countenance becomes pallid or livid,[1004] and not a few men

with heart-disease have dropped down dead under this powerful emotion.

The respiration is likewise affected; the chest heaves, and the dilated

nostrils quiver.[1005] As Tennyson writes, “sharp breaths of anger

puffed her fairy nostrils out.” Hence we have such expressions as

“breathing out vengeance,” and “fuming with anger.”[1006]

The excited brain gives strength to the muscles, and at the same time

energy to the will. The body is commonly held erect ready for instant

action, but sometimes it is bent forward towards the offending person,

with the limbs more or less rigid. The mouth is generally closed with

firmness, showing fixed determination, and the teeth are clenched or

ground together. Such gestures as the raising of the arms, with the

fists clenched, as if to strike the offender, are common. Few men in a

great passion, and telling some one to begone, can resist acting as if

they intended to strike or push the man violently away. The desire,

indeed, to strike often becomes so intolerably strong, that inanimate

objects are struck or dashed to the ground; but the gestures frequently

become altogether purposeless or frantic. Young children, when in a

violent rage roll on the ground on their backs or bellies, screaming,

kicking, scratching, or biting everything within reach. So it is, as I

hear from Mr. Scott, with Hindoo children; and, as we have seen, with

the young of the anthropomorphous apes.

But the muscular system is often affected in a wholly different way;

for trembling is a frequent consequence of extreme rage. The paralysed

lips then refuse to obey the will, “and the voice sticks in the

throat;”[1007] or it is rendered loud, harsh, and discordant. If there

be much and rapid speaking, the mouth froths. The hair sometimes

bristles; but I shall return to this subject in another chapter, when I

treat of the mingled emotions of rage and terror. There is in most

cases a strongly-marked frown on the forehead; for this follows from

the sense of anything displeasing or difficult, together with

concentration of mind. But sometimes the brow, instead of being much

contracted and lowered, remains smooth, with the glaring eyes kept

widely open. The eyes are always bright, or may, as Homer expresses it,

glisten with fire. They are sometimes bloodshot, and are said to

protrude from their sockets—the result, no doubt, of the head being

gorged with blood, as shown by the veins being distended. According to

Gratiolet, “the pupils are always contracted in rage,” and I hear from

Dr. Crichton Browne that this is the case in the fierce delirium of

meningitis; but the movements of the iris under the influence of the

different emotions is a very obscure subject.[1008]

Shakspeare sums up the chief characteristics of rage as follows:—

“In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man,

As modest stillness and humility;

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,

Then imitate the action of the tiger:

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide,

Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit

To his full height! On, on, you noblest English.”

_Henry V_., act iii. sc. 1.

The lips are sometimes protruded during rage in a manner, the meaning

of which I do not understand, unless it depends on our descent from

some ape-like animal. Instances have been observed, not only with

Europeans, but with the Australians and Hindoos. The lips, however, are

much more commonly retracted, the grinning or clenched teeth being thus

exposed. This has been noticed by almost every one who has written on

expression.[1009] The appearance is as if the teeth were uncovered,

ready for seizing or tearing an enemy, though there may be no intention

of acting in this manner. Mr. Dyson Lacy has seen this grinning

expression with the Australians, when quarrelling, and so has Gaika

with the Kafirs of South America. Dickens,[1010] in speaking of an

atrocious murderer who had just been caught, and was surrounded by a

furious mob, describes “the people as jumping up one behind another,

snarling with their teeth, and making at him like wild beasts.” Every

one who has had much to do with young children must have seen how

naturally they take to biting, when in a passion. It seems as

instinctive in them as in young crocodiles, who snap their little jaws

as soon as they emerge from the egg.

A grinning expression and the protrusion of the lips appear sometimes

to go together. A close observer says that he has seen many instances

of intense hatred (which can hardly be distinguished from rage, more or

less suppressed) in Orientals, and once in an elderly English woman. In

all these cases there “was a grin, not a scowl—the lips lengthening,

the cheeks settling downwards, the eyes half-closed, whilst the brow

remained perfectly calm.”[1011]

This retraction of the lips and uncovering of the teeth during

paroxysms of rage, as if to bite the offender, is so remarkable,

considering how seldom the teeth are used by men in fighting, that I

inquired from Dr. J. Crichton Browne whether the habit was common in

the insane whose passions are unbridled. He informs me that he has

repeatedly observed it both with the insane and idiotic, and has given

me the following illustrations:—

Shortly before receiving my letter, he witnessed an uncontrollable

outbreak of anger and delusive jealousy in an insane lady. At first she

vituperated her husband, and whilst doing so foamed at the mouth. Next

she approached close to him with compressed lips, and a virulent set

frown. Then she drew back her lips, especially the corners of the upper

lip, and showed her teeth, at the same time aiming a vicious blow at

him. A second case is that of an old soldier, who, when he is requested

to conform to the rules of the establishment, gives way to discontent,

terminating in fury. He commonly begins by asking Dr. Browne whether he

is not ashamed to treat him in such a manner. He then swears and

blasphemes, paces tip and down, tosses his arms wildly about, and

menaces any one near him. At last, as his exasperation culminates, he

rushes up towards Dr. Browne with a peculiar sidelong movement, shaking

his doubled fist, and threatening destruction. Then his upper lip may

be seen to be raised, especially at the corners, so that his huge

canine teeth are exhibited. He hisses forth his curses through his set

teeth, and his whole expression assumes the character of extreme

ferocity. A similar description is applicable to another man, excepting

that he generally foams at the mouth and spits, dancing and jumping

about in a strange rapid manner, shrieking out his maledictions in a

shrill falsetto voice.

Dr. Browne also informs me of the case of an epileptic idiot, incapable

of independent movements, and who spends the whole day in playing with

some toys; but his temper is morose and easily roused into fierceness.

When any one touches his toys, he slowly raises his head from its

habitual downward position, and fixes his eyes on the offender, with a

tardy yet angry scowl. If the annoyance be repeated, he draws back his

thick lips and reveals a prominent row of hideous fangs (large canines

being especially noticeable), and then makes a quick and cruel clutch

with his open hand at the offending person. The rapidity of this

clutch, as Dr. Browne remarks, is marvellous in a being ordinarily so

torpid that he takes about fifteen seconds, when attracted by any

noise, to turn his head from one side to the other. If, when thus

incensed, a handkerchief, book, or other article, be placed into his

hands, he drags it to his mouth and bites it. Mr. Nicol has likewise

described to me two cases of insane patients, whose lips are retracted

during paroxysms of rage.

Dr. Maudsley, after detailing various strange animal-like traits in

idiots, asks whether these are not due to the reappearance of primitive

instincts—“a faint echo from a far-distant past, testifying to a

kinship which man has almost outgrown.” He adds, that as every human

brain passes, in the course of its development, through the same stages

as those occurring in the lower vertebrate animals, and as the brain of

an idiot is in an arrested condition, we may presume that it “will

manifest its most primitive functions, and no higher functions.” Dr.

Maudsley thinks that the same view may be extended to the brain in its

degenerated condition in some insane patients; and asks, whence come

“the savage snarl, the destructive disposition, the obscene language,

the wild howl, the offensive habits, displayed by some of the insane?

Why should a human being, deprived of his reason, ever become so brutal

in character, as some do, unless he has the brute nature within

him?”[1012] This question must, as it would appear, he answered in the

affirmative.

_Anger, Indignation_.—These states of the mind differ from rage only in

degree, and there is no marked distinction in their characteristic

signs. Under moderate anger the action of the heart is a little

increased, the colour heightened, and the eyes become bright. The

respiration is likewise a little hurried; and as all the muscles

serving for this function act in association, the wings of the nostrils

are somewhat raised to allow of a free indraught of air; and this is a

highly characteristic sign of indignation. The mouth is commonly

compressed, and there is almost always a frown on the brow. Instead of

the frantic gestures of extreme rage, an indignant man unconsciously

throws himself into an attitude ready for attacking or striking his

enemy, whom he will perhaps scan from head to foot in defiance. He

carries his head erect, with his chest well expanded, and the feet

planted firmly on the ground. He holds his arms in various positions,

with one or both elbows squared, or with the arms rigidly suspended by

his sides. With Europeans the fists are commonly clenched.[1013] The

figures 1 and 2 in Plate VI. are fairly good representations of men

simulating indignation. Any one may see in a mirror, if he will vividly

imagine that he has been insulted and demands an explanation in an

angry tone of voice, that he suddenly and unconsciously throws himself

into some such attitude.

Anger and Indignation. Plate VI

Rage, anger, and indignation are exhibited in nearly the same manner

throughout the world; and the following descriptions may be worth

giving as evidence of this, and as illustrations of some of the

foregoing remarks. There is, however, an exception with respect to

clenching the fists, which seems confined chiefly to the men who fight

with their fists. With the Australians only one of my informants has

seen the fists clenched. All agree about the body being held erect; and

all, with two exceptions, state that the brows are heavily contracted.

Some of them allude to the firmly-compressed mouth, the distended

nostrils, and flashing eyes. According to the Rev. Mr. Taplin, rage,

with the Australians, is expressed by the lips being protruded, the

eyes being widely open; and in the case of the women by their dancing

about and casting dust into the air. Another observer speaks of the

native men, when enraged, throwing their arms wildly about.

I have received similar accounts, except as to the clenching of the

fists, in regard to the Malays of the Malacca peninsula, the

Abyssinians, and the natives of South Africa. So it is with the Dakota

Indians of North America; and, according to Mr. Matthews, they then

hold their heads erect, frown, and often stalk away with long strides.

Mr. Bridges states that the Fuegians, when enraged, frequently stamp on

the ground, walk distractedly about, sometimes cry and grow pale. The

Rev. Mr. Stack watched a New Zealand man and woman quarrelling, and

made the following entry in his note-book: “Eyes dilated, body swayed

violently backwards and forwards, head inclined forwards, fists

clenched, now thrown behind the body, now directed towards each other’s

faces.” Mr. Swinhoe says that my description agrees with what he has

seen of the Chinese, excepting that an angry man generally inclines his

body towards his antagonist, and pointing at him, pours forth a volley

of abuse.

Lastly, with respect to the natives of India, Mr. J. Scott has sent me

a full description of their gestures and expression when enraged. Two

low-caste Bengalees disputed about a loan. At first they were calm, but

soon grew furious and poured forth the grossest abuse on each other’s

relations and progenitors for many generations past. Their gestures

were very different from those of Europeans; for though their chests

were expanded and shoulders squared, their arms remained rigidly

suspended, with the elbows turned inwards and the hands alternately

clenched and opened. Their shoulders were often raised high, and then

again lowered. They looked fiercely at each other from under their

lowered and strongly wrinkled brows, and their protruded lips were

firmly closed. They approached each other, with heads and necks

stretched forwards, and pushed, scratched, and grasped at each other.

This protrusion of the head and body seems a common gesture with the

enraged; and I have noticed it with degraded English women whilst

quarrelling violently in the streets. In such cases it may be presumed

that neither party expects to receive a blow from the other.

A Bengalee employed in the Botanic Gardens was accused, in the presence

of Mr. Scott, by the native overseer of having stolen a valuable plant.

He listened silently and scornfully to the accusation; his attitude

erect, chest expanded, mouth closed, lips protruding, eyes firmly set

and penetrating. He then defiantly maintained his innocence, with

upraised and clenched hands, his head being now pushed forwards, with

the eyes widely open and eyebrows raised. Mr. Scott also watched two

Mechis, in Sikhim, quarrelling about their share of payment. They soon

got into a furious passion, and then their bodies became less erect,

with their heads pushed forwards; they made grimaces at each other;

their shoulders were raised; their arms rigidly bent inwards at the

elbows, and their hands spasmodically closed, but not properly

clenched. They continually approached and retreated from each other,

and often raised their arms as if to strike, but their hands were open,

and no blow was given. Mr. Scott made similar observations on the

Lepchas whom he often saw quarrelling, and he noticed that they kept

their arms rigid and almost parallel to their bodies, with the hands

pushed somewhat backwards and partially closed, but not clenched.

_Sneering, Defiance: Uncovering the canine tooth on one side_.—The

expression which I wish here to consider differs but little from that

already described, when the lips are retracted and the grinning teeth

exposed. The difference consists solely in the upper lip being

retracted in such a manner that the canine tooth on one side of the

face alone is shown; the face itself being generally a little upturned

and half averted from the person causing offence. The other signs of

rage are not necessarily present. This expression may occasionally be

observed in a person who sneers at or defies another, though there may

be no real anger; as when any one is playfully accused of some fault,

and answers, “I scorn the imputation.” The expression is not a common

one, but I have seen it exhibited with perfect distinctness by a lady

who was being quizzed by another person. It was described by Parsons as

long ago as 1746, with an engraving, showing the uncovered canine on

one side.[1014] Mr. Rejlander, without my having made any allusion to

the subject, asked me whether I had ever noticed this expression, as he

had been much struck by it. He has photographed for me (Plate IV. fig

1) a lady, who sometimes unintentionally displays the canine on one

side, and who can do so voluntarily with unusual distinctness.

The expression of a half-playful sneer graduates into one of great

ferocity when, together with a heavily frowning brow and fierce eye,

the canine tooth is exposed. A Bengalee boy was accused before Mr.

Scott of some misdeed. The delinquent did not dare to give vent to his

wrath in words, but it was plainly shown on his countenance, sometimes

by a defiant frown, and sometimes “by a thoroughly canine snarl.” When

this was exhibited, “the corner of the lip over the eye-tooth, which

happened in this case to be large and projecting, was raised on the

side of his accuser, a strong frown being still retained on the brow.”

Sir C. Bell states[1015] that the actor Cooke could express the most

determined hate “when with the oblique cast of his eyes he drew up the

outer part of the upper lip, and discovered a sharp angular tooth.”

The uncovering of the canine tooth is the result of a double movement.

The angle or corner of the mouth is drawn a little backwards, and at

the same time a muscle which runs parallel to and near the nose draws

up the outer part of the upper lip, and exposes the canine on this side

of the face. The contraction of this muscle makes a distinct furrow on

the cheek, and produces strong wrinkles under the eye, especially at

its inner corner. The action is the same as that of a snarling dog; and

a dog when pretending to fight often draws up the lip on one side

alone, namely that facing his antagonist. Our word _sneer_ is in fact

the same as _snarl_, which was originally _snar_, the _l_ “being merely

an element implying continuance of action.”[1016]

I suspect that we see a trace of this same expression in what is called

a derisive or sardonic smile. The lips are then kept joined or almost

joined, but one corner of the mouth is retracted on the side towards

the derided person; and this drawing back of the corner is part of a

true sneer. Although some persons smile more on one side of their face

than on the other, it is not easy to understand why in cases of

derision the smile, if a real one, should so commonly be confined to

one side. I have also on these occasions noticed a slight twitching of

the muscle which draws up the outer part of the upper lip; and this

movement, if fully carried out, would have uncovered the canine, and

would have produced a true sneer.

Mr. Bulmer, an Australian missionary in a remote part of Gipps’ Land,

says, in answer to my query about the uncovering of the canine on one

side, “I find that the natives in snarling at each other speak with the

teeth closed, the upper lip drawn to one side, and a general angry

expression of face; but they look direct at the person addressed.”

Three other observers in Australia, one in Abyssinia, and one in China,

answer my query on this head in the affirmative; but as the expression

is rare, and as they enter into no details, I am afraid of implicitly

trusting them. It is, however, by no means improbable that this

animal-like expression may be more common with savages than with

civilized races. Mr. Geach is an observer who may be fully trusted, and

he has observed it on one occasion in a Malay in the interior of

Malacca. The Rev. S. O. Glenie answers, “We have observed this

expression with the natives of Ceylon, but not often.” Lastly, in North

America, Dr. Rothrock has seen it with some wild Indians, and often in

a tribe adjoining the Atnahs.

Although the upper lip is certainly sometimes raised on one side alone

in sneering at or defying any one, I do not know that this is always

the case, for the face is commonly half averted, and the expression is

often momentary. The movement being confined to one side may not be an

essential part of the expression, but may depend on the proper muscles

being incapable of movement excepting on one side. I asked four persons

to endeavour to act voluntarily in this manner; two could expose the

canine only on the left side, one only on the right side, and the

fourth on neither side. Nevertheless it is by no means certain that

these same persons, if defying any one in earnest, would not

unconsciously have uncovered their canine tooth on the side, whichever

it might be, towards the offender. For we have seen that some persons

cannot voluntarily make their eyebrows oblique, yet instantly act in

this manner when affected by any real, although most trifling, cause of

distress. The power of voluntarily uncovering the canine on one side of

the face being thus often wholly lost, indicates that it is a rarely

used and almost abortive action. It is indeed a surprising fact that

man should possess the power, or should exhibit any tendency to its

use; for Mr. Sutton has never noticed a snarling action in our nearest

allies, namely, the monkeys in the Zoological Gardens, and he is

positive that the baboons, though furnished with great canines, never

act thus, but uncover all their teeth when feeling savage and ready for

an attack. Whether the adult anthropomorphous apes, in the males of

whom the canines are much larger than in the females, uncover them when

prepared to fight, is not known.

The expression here considered, whether that of a playful sneer or

ferocious snarl, is one of the most curious which occurs in man. It

reveals his animal descent; for no one, even if rolling on the ground

in a deadly grapple with an enemy, and attempting to bite him, would

try to use his canine teeth more than his other teeth. We may readily

believe from our affinity to the anthropomorphous apes that our male

semi-human progenitors possessed great canine teeth, and men are now

occasionally born having them of unusually large size, with interspaces

in the opposite jaw for their reception.[1017] We may further suspect,

notwithstanding that we have no support from analogy, that our

semi-human progenitors uncovered their canine teeth when prepared for

battle, as we still do when feeling ferocious, or when merely sneering

at or defying some one, without any intention of making a real attack

with our teeth.

CHAPTER XI. DISDAIN—CONTEMPT—DISGUST-GUILT—PRIDE,

ETC.—HELPLESSNESS—PATIENCE—AFFIRMATION AND NEGATION.

Contempt, scorn and disdain, variously expressed—Derisive

smile—Gestures expressive of contempt—Disgust—Guilt, deceit, pride,

&c.—Helplessness or impotence—Patience—Obstinacy—Shrugging the

shoulders common to most of the races of man—Signs of affirmation and

negation.

Scorn and disdain can hardly be distinguished from contempt, excepting

that they imply a rather more angry frame of mind. Nor can they be

clearly distinguished from the feelings discussed in the last chapter

under the terms of sneering and defiance. Disgust is a sensation rather

more distinct in its nature and refers to something revolting,

primarily in relation to the sense of taste, as actually perceived or

vividly imagined; and secondarily to anything which causes a similar

feeling, through the sense of smell, touch, and even of eyesight.

Nevertheless, extreme contempt, or as it is often called loathing

contempt, hardly differs from disgust. These several conditions of the

mind are, therefore, nearly related; and each of them may be exhibited

in many different ways. Some writers have insisted chiefly on one mode

of expression, and others on a different mode. From this circumstance

M. Lemoine has argued[1101] that their descriptions are not

trustworthy. But we shall immediately see that it is natural that the

feelings which we have here to consider should be expressed in many

different ways, inasmuch as various habitual actions serve equally

well, through the principle of association, for their expression.

Scorn and disdain, as well as sneering and defiance, may be displayed

by a slight uncovering of the canine tooth on one side of the face; and

this movement appears to graduate into one closely like a smile. Or the

smile or laugh may be real, although one of derision; and this implies

that the offender is so insignificant that he excites only amusement;

but the amusement is generally a pretence. Gaika in his answers to my

queries remarks, that contempt is commonly shown by his countrymen, the

Kafirs, by smiling; and the Rajah Brooke makes the same observation

with respect to the Dyaks of Borneo. As laughter is primarily the

expression of simple joy, very young children do not, I believe, ever

laugh in derision.

The partial closure of the eyelids, as Duchenne[1102] insists, or the

turning away of the eyes or of the whole body, are likewise highly

expressive of disdain. These actions seem to declare that the despised

person is not worth looking at or is disagreeable to behold. The

accompanying photograph (Plate V. fig. 1) by Mr. Rejlander, shows this

form of disdain. It represents a young lady, who is supposed to be

tearing up the photograph of a despised lover.

Scorn and Disdain. Plate V

The most common method of expressing contempt is by movements about the

nose, or round the mouth; but the latter movements, when strongly

pronounced, indicate disgust. The nose may be slightly turned up, which

apparently follows from the turning up of the upper lip; or the

movement may be abbreviated into the mere wrinkling of the nose. The

nose is often slightly contracted, so as partly to close the

passage;[1103] and this is commonly accompanied by a slight snort or

expiration. All these actions are the same with those which we employ

when we perceive an offensive odour, and wish to exclude or expel it.

In extreme cases, as Dr. Piderit remarks,[1104] we protrude and raise

both lips, or the upper lip alone, so as to close the nostrils as by a

valve, the nose being thus turned up. We seem thus to say to the

despised person that he smells offensively,[1105] in nearly the same

manner as we express to him by half-closing our eyelids, or turning

away our faces, that he is not worth looking at. It must not, however,

be supposed that such ideas actually pass through the mind when we

exhibit our contempt; but as whenever we have perceived a disagreeable

odour or seen a disagreeable sight, actions of this kind have been

performed, they have become habitual or fixed, and are now employed

under any analogous state of mind.

Various odd little gestures likewise indicate contempt; for instance,

_snapping one’s fingers_. This, as Mr. Taylor remarks,[1106] “is not

very intelligible as we generally see it; but when we notice that the

same sign made quite gently, as if rolling some tiny object away

between the finger and thumb, or the sign of flipping it away with the

thumb-nail and forefinger, are usual and well-understood deaf-and-dumb

gestures, denoting anything tiny, insignificant, contemptible, it seems

as though we had exaggerated and conventionalized a perfectly natural

action, so as to lose sight of its original meaning. There is a curious

mention of this gesture by Strabo.” Mr. Washington Matthews informs me

that, with the Dakota Indians of North America, contempt is shown not

only by movements of the face, such as those above described, but

“conventionally, by the hand being closed and held near the breast,

then, as the forearm is suddenly extended, the hand is opened and the

fingers separated from each other. If the person at whose expense the

sign is made is present, the hand is moved towards him, and the head

sometimes averted from him.” This sudden extension and opening of the

hand perhaps indicates the dropping or throwing away a valueless

object.

The term ‘disgust,’ in its simplest sense, means something offensive to

the taste. It is curious how readily this feeling is excited by

anything unusual in the appearance, odour, or nature of our food. In

Tierra del Fuego a native touched with his finger some cold preserved

meat which I was eating at our bivouac, and plainly showed utter

disgust at its softness; whilst I felt utter disgust at my food being

touched by a naked savage, though his hands did not appear dirty. A

smear of soup on a man’s beard looks disgusting, though there is of

course nothing disgusting in the soup itself. I presume that this

follows from the strong association in our minds between the sight of

food, however circumstanced, and the idea of eating it.

As the sensation of disgust primarily arises in connection with the act

of eating or tasting, it is natural that its expression should consist

chiefly in movements round the mouth. But as disgust also causes

annoyance, it is generally accompanied by a frown, and often by

gestures as if to push away or to guard oneself against the offensive

object. In the two photographs (figs. 2 and 3, on Plate V.) Mr.

Rejlander has simulated this expression with some success. With respect

to the face, moderate disgust is exhibited in various ways; by the

mouth being widely opened, as if to let an offensive morsel drop out;

by spitting; by blowing out of the protruded lips; or by a sound as of

clearing the throat. Such guttural sounds are written _ach_ or _ugh_;

and their utterance is sometimes accompanied by a shudder, the arms

being pressed close to the sides and the shoulders raised in the same

manner as when horror is experienced.[1107] Extreme disgust is

expressed by movements round the month identical with those preparatory

to the act of vomiting. The mouth is opened widely, with the upper lip

strongly retracted, which wrinkles the sides of the nose, and with the

lower lip protruded and everted as much as possible. This latter

movement requires the contraction of the muscles which draw downwards

the corners of the mouth.[1108]

It is remarkable how readily and instantly retching or actual vomiting

is induced in some persons by the mere idea of having partaken of any

unusual food, as of an animal which is not commonly eaten; although

there is nothing in such food to cause the stomach to reject it. When

vomiting results, as a reflex action, from some real cause—as from too

rich food, or tainted meat, or from an emetic—it does not ensue

immediately, but generally after a considerable interval of time.

Therefore, to account for retching or vomiting being so quickly and

easily excited by a mere idea, the suspicion arises that our

progenitors must formerly have had the power (like that possessed by

ruminants and some other animals) of voluntarily rejecting food which

disagreed with them, or which they thought would disagree with them;

and now, though this power has been lost, as far as the will is

concerned, it is called into involuntary action, through the force of a

formerly well-established habit, whenever the mind revolts at the idea

of having partaken of any kind of food, or at anything disgusting. This

suspicion receives support from the fact, of which I am assured by Mr.

Sutton, that the monkeys in the Zoological Gardens often vomit whilst

in perfect health, which looks as if the act were voluntary. We can see

that as man is able to communicate by language to his children and

others, the knowledge of the kinds of food to be avoided, he would have

little occasion to use the faculty of voluntary rejection; so that this

power would tend to be lost through disuse.

As the sense of smell is so intimately connected with that of taste, it

is not surprising that an excessively bad odour should excite retching

or vomiting in some persons, quite as readily as the thought of

revolting food does; and that, as a further consequence, a moderately

offensive odour should cause the various expressive movements of

disgust. The tendency to retch from a fetid odour is immediately

strengthened in a curious manner by some degree of habit, though soon

lost by longer familiarity with the cause of offence and by voluntary

restraint. For instance, I wished to clean the skeleton of a bird,

which had not been sufficiently macerated, and the smell made my

servant and myself (we not having had much experience in such work)

retch so violently, that we were compelled to desist. During the

previous days I had examined some other skeletons, which smelt

slightly; yet the odour did not in the least affect me, but,

subsequently for several days, whenever I handled these same skeletons,

they made me retch.

From the answers received from my correspondents it appears that the

various movements, which have now been described as expressing contempt

and disgust, prevail throughout a large part of the world. Dr.

Rothrock, for instance, answers with a decided affirmative with respect

to certain wild Indian tribes of North America. Crantz says that when a

Greenlander denies anything with contempt or horror he turns up his

nose, and gives a slight sound through it.[1109] Mr. Scott has sent me

a graphic description of the face of a young Hindoo at the sight of

castor-oil, which he was compelled occasionally to take. Mr. Scott has

also seen the same expression on the faces of high-caste natives who

have approached close to some defiling object. Mr. Bridges says that

the Fuegians “express contempt by shooting out the lips and hissing

through them, and by turning up the nose.” The tendency either to snort

through the nose, or to make a noise expressed by _ugh_ or _ach_, is

noticed by several of my correspondents.

Spitting seems an almost universal sign of contempt or disgust; and

spitting obviously represents the rejection of anything offensive from

the mouth. Shakspeare makes the Duke of Norfolk say, “I spit at

him—call him a slanderous coward and a villain.” So, again, Falstaff

says, “Tell thee what, Hal,—if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face.”

Leichhardt remarks that the Australians “interrupted their speeches by

spitting, and uttering a noise like pooh! pooh! apparently expressive

of their disgust.” And Captain Burton speaks of certain negroes

“spitting with disgust upon the ground.” Captain Speedy informs me that

this is likewise the case with the Abyssinians. Mr. Geach says that

with the Malays of Malacca the expression of disgust “answers to

spitting from the mouth;” and with the Fuegians, according to Mr.

Bridges “to spit at one is the highest mark of contempt.”[1110]

I never saw disgust more plainly expressed than on the face of one of

my infants at the age of five months, when, for the first time, some

cold water, and again a month afterwards, when a piece of ripe cherry

was put into his mouth. This was shown by the lips and whole mouth

assuming a shape which allowed the contents to run or fall quickly out;

the tongue being likewise protruded. These movements were accompanied

by a little shudder. It was all the more comical, as I doubt whether

the child felt real disgust—the eyes and forehead expressing much

surprise and consideration. The protrusion of the tongue in letting a

nasty object fall out of the mouth, may explain how it is that lolling

out the tongue universally serves as a sign of contempt and

hatred.[1111]

We have now seen that scorn, disdain, contempt, and disgust are

expressed in many different ways, by movements of the features, and by

various gestures; and that these are the same throughout the world.

They all consist of actions representing the rejection or exclusion of

some real object which we dislike or abhor, but which does not excite

in us certain other strong emotions, such as rage or terror; and

through the force of habit and association similar actions are

performed, whenever any analogous sensation arises in our minds.

_Jealousy, Envy, Avarice, Revenge, Suspicion, Deceit, Slyness, Guilt,

Vanity, Conceit, Ambition, Pride, Humility, &c_.—It is doubtful whether

the greater number of the above complex states of mind are revealed by

any fixed expression, sufficiently distinct to be described or

delineated. When Shakspeare speaks of Envy as _lean-faced_, or _black_,

or _pale_, and Jealousy as “_the green-eyed monster_;” and when Spenser

describes Suspicion as “_foul, ill-favoured, and grim_,” they must have

felt this difficulty. Nevertheless, the above feelings—at least many of

them—can be detected by the eye; for instance, conceit; but we are

often guided in a much greater degree than we suppose by our previous

knowledge of the persons or circumstances.

My correspondents almost unanimously answer in the affirmative to my

query, whether the expression of guilt and deceit can be recognized

amongst the various races of man; and I have confidence in their

answers, as they generally deny that jealousy can thus be recognized.

In the cases in which details are given, the eyes are almost always

referred to. The guilty man is said to avoid looking at his accuser, or

to give him stolen looks. The eyes are said “to be turned askant,” or

“to waver from side to side,” or “the eyelids to be lowered and partly

closed.” This latter remark is made by Mr. Hagenauer with respect to

the Australians, and by Gaika with respect to the Kafirs. The restless

movements of the eyes apparently follow, as will be explained when we

treat of blushing, from the guilty man not enduring to meet the gaze of

his accuser. I may add, that I have observed a guilty expression,

without a shade of fear, in some of my own children at a very early

age. In one instance the expression was unmistakably clear in a child

two years and seven months old, and led to the detection of his little

crime. It was shown, as I record in my notes made at the time, by an

unnatural brightness in the eyes, and by an odd, affected manner,

impossible to describe.

Slyness is also, I believe, exhibited chiefly by movements about the

eyes; for these are less under the control of the will, owing to the

force of long-continued habit, than are the movements of the body. Mr.

Herbert Spencer remarks,[1112] “When there is a desire to see something

on one side of the visual field without being supposed to see it, the

tendency is to check the conspicuous movement of the head, and to make

the required adjustment entirely with the eyes; which are, therefore,

drawn very much to one side. Hence, when the eyes are turned to one

side, while the face is not turned to the same side, we get the natural

language of what is called slyness.”

Of all the above-named complex emotions, Pride, perhaps, is the most

plainly expressed. A proud man exhibits his sense of superiority over

others by holding his head and body erect. He is haughty (_haut_), or

high, and makes himself appear as large as possible; so that

metaphorically he is said to be swollen or puffed up with pride. A

peacock or a turkey-cock strutting about with puffed-up feathers, is

sometimes said to be an emblem of pride.[1113] The arrogant man looks

down on others, and with lowered eyelids hardly condescends to see

them; or he may show his contempt by slight movements, such as those

before described, about the nostrils or lips. Hence the muscle which

everts the lower lip has been called the _musculus superbus_. In some

photographs of patients affected by a monomania of pride, sent me by

Dr. Crichton Browne, the head and body were held erect, and the mouth

firmly closed. This latter action, expressive of decision, follows, I

presume, from the proud man feeling perfect self-confidence in himself.

The whole expression of pride stands in direct antithesis to that of

humility; so that nothing need here be said of the latter state of

mind.

_Helplessness, Impotence: Shrugging the shoulders_.—When a man wishes

to show that he cannot do something, or prevent something being done,

he often raises with a quick movement both shoulders. At the same time,

if the whole gesture is completed, he bends his elbows closely inwards,

raises his open hands, turning them outwards, with the fingers

separated. The head is often thrown a little on one side; the eyebrows

are elevated, and this causes wrinkles across the forehead. The mouth

is generally opened. I may mention, in order to show how unconsciously

the features are thus acted on, that though I had often intentionally

shrugged my shoulders to observe how my arms were placed, I was not at

all aware that my eyebrows were raised and mouth opened, until I looked

at myself in a glass; and since then I have noticed the same movements

in the faces of others. In the accompanying Plate VI., figs. 3 and 4,

Mr. Rejlander has successfully acted the gesture of shrugging the

shoulders.

Englishmen are much less demonstrative than the men of most other

European nations, and they shrug their shoulders far less frequently

and energetically than Frenchmen or Italians do. The gesture varies in

all degrees from the complex movement, just described, to only a

momentary and scarcely perceptible raising of both shoulders; or, as I

have noticed in a lady sitting in an arm-chair, to the mere turning

slightly outwards of the open hands with separated fingers. I have

never seen very young English children shrug their shoulders, but the

following case was observed with care by a medical professor and

excellent observer, and has been communicated to me by him. The father

of this gentleman was a Parisian, and his mother a Scotch lady. His

wife is of British extraction on both sides, and my informant does not

believe that she ever shrugged her shoulders in her life. His children

have been reared in England, and the nursemaid is a thorough

Englishwoman, who has never been seen to shrug her shoulders. Now, his

eldest daughter was observed to shrug her shoulders at the age of

between sixteen and eighteen months; her mother exclaiming at the time,

“Look at the little French girl shrugging her shoulders!” At first she

often acted thus, sometimes throwing her head a little backwards and on

one side, but she did not, as far as was observed, move her elbows and

hands in the usual manner. The habit gradually wore away, and now, when

she is a little over four years old, she is never seen to act thus. The

father is told that he sometimes shrugs his shoulders, especially when

arguing with any one; but it is extremely improbable that his daughter

should have imitated him at so early an age; for, as he remarks, she

could not possibly have often seen this gesture in him. Moreover, if

the habit had been acquired through imitation, it is not probable that

it would so soon have been spontaneously discontinued by this child,

and, as we shall immediately see, by a second child, though the father

still lived with his family. This little girl, it may be added,

resembles her Parisian grandfather in countenance to an almost absurd

degree. She also presents another and very curious resemblance to him,

namely, by practising a singular trick. When she impatiently wants

something, she holds out her little hand, and rapidly rubs the thumb

against the index and middle finger: now this same trick was frequently

performed under the same circumstances by her grandfather.

This gentleman’s second daughter also shrugged her shoulders before the

age of eighteen months, and afterwards discontinued the habit. It is of

course possible that she may have imitated her elder sister; but she

continued it after her sister had lost the habit. She at first

resembled her Parisian grandfather in a less degree than did her sister

at the same age, but now in a greater degree. She likewise practises to

the present time the peculiar habit of rubbing together, when

impatient, her thumb and two of her fore-fingers.

In this latter case we have a good instance, like those given in a

former chapter, of the inheritance of a trick or gesture; for no one, I

presume, will attribute to mere coincidence so peculiar a habit as

this, which was common to the grandfather and his two grandchildren who

had never seen him.

Considering all the circumstances with reference to these children

shrugging their shoulders, it can hardly be doubted that they have

inherited the habit from their French progenitors, although they have

only one quarter French blood in their veins, and although their

grandfather did not often shrug his shoulders. There is nothing very

unusual, though the fact is interesting, in these children having

gained by inheritance a habit during early youth, and then

discontinuing it; for it is of frequent occurrence with many kinds of

animals that certain characters are retained for a period by the young,

and are then lost.

As it appeared to me at one time improbable in a high degree that so

complex a gesture as shrugging the shoulders, together with the

accompanying movements, should be innate, I was anxious to ascertain

whether the blind and deaf Laura Bridgman, who could not have learnt

the habit by imitation, practised it. And I have heard, through Dr.

Innes, from a lady who has lately had charge of her, that she does

shrug her shoulders, turn in her elbows, and raise her eyebrows in the

same manner as other people, and under the same circumstances. I was

also anxious to learn whether this gesture was practised by the various

races of man, especially by those who never have had much intercourse

with Europeans. We shall see that they act in this manner; but it

appears that the gesture is sometimes confined to merely raising or

shrugging the shoulders, without the other movements.

Mr. Scott has frequently seen this gesture in the Bengalees and

Dhangars (the latter constituting a distinct race) who are employed in

the Botanic Garden at Calcutta; when, for instance, they have declared

that they could not do some work, such as lifting a heavy weight. He

ordered a Bengalee to climb a lofty tree; but the man, with a shrug of

his shoulders and a lateral shake of his head, said he could not. Mr.

Scott knowing that the man was lazy, thought he could, and insisted on

his trying. His face now became pale, his arms dropped to his sides,

his mouth and eyes were widely opened, and again surveying the tree, he

looked askant at Mr. Scott, shrugged his shoulders, inverted his

elbows, extended his open hands, and with a few quick lateral shakes of

the head declared his inability. Mr. H. Erskine has likewise seen the

natives of India shrugging their shoulders; but he has never seen the

elbows turned so much inwards as with us; and whilst shrugging their

shoulders they sometimes lay their uncrossed hands on their breasts.

With the wild Malays of the interior of Malacca, and with the Bugis

(true Malays, though speaking a different language), Mr. Geach has

often seen this gesture. I presume that it is complete, as, in answer

to my query descriptive of the movements of the shoulders, arms, hands,

and face, Mr. Geach remarks, “it is performed in a beautiful style.” I

have lost an extract from a scientific voyage, in which shrugging the

shoulders by some natives (Micronesians) of the Caroline Archipelago in

the Pacific Ocean, was well described. Capt. Speedy informs me that the

Abyssinians shrug their shoulders but enters into no details. Mrs. Asa

Gray saw an Arab dragoman in Alexandria acting exactly as described in

my query, when an old gentleman, on whom he attended, would not go in

the proper direction which had been pointed out to him.

Mr. Washington Matthews says, in reference to the wild Indian tribes of

the western parts of the United States, “I have on a few occasions

detected men using a slight apologetic shrug, but the rest of the

demonstration which you describe I have not witnessed.” Fritz Müller

informs me that he has seen the negroes in Brazil shrugging their

shoulders; but it is of course possible that they may have learnt to do

so by imitating the Portuguese. Mrs. Barber has never seen this gesture

with the Kafirs of South Africa; and Gaika, judging from his answer,

did not even understand what was meant by my description. Mr. Swinhoe

is also doubtful about the Chinese; but he has seen them, under the

circumstances which would make us shrug our shoulders, press their

right elbow against their side, raise their eyebrows, lift up their

hand with the palm directed towards the person addressed, and shake it

from right to left. Lastly, with respect to the Australians, four of my

informants answer by a simple negative, and one by a simple

affirmative. Mr. Bunnett, who has had excellent opportunities for

observation on the borders of the Colony of Victory, also answers by a

“yes,” adding that the gesture is performed “in a more subdued and less

demonstrative manner than is the case with civilized nations.” This

circumstance may account for its not having been noticed by four of my

informants.

These statements, relating to Europeans, Hindoos, the hill-tribes of

India, Malays, Micronesians, Abyssinians, Arabs, Negroes, Indians of

North America, and apparently to the Australians—many of these natives

having had scarcely any intercourse with Europeans—are sufficient to

show that shrugging the shoulders, accompanied in some cases by the

other proper movements, is a gesture natural to mankind.

This gesture implies an unintentional or unavoidable action on our own

part, or one that we cannot perform; or an action performed by another

person which we cannot prevent. It accompanies such speeches as, “It

was not my fault;” “It is impossible for me to grant this favour;” “He

must follow his own course, I cannot stop him.” Shrugging the shoulders

likewise expresses patience, or the absence of any intention to resist.

Hence the muscles which raise the shoulders are sometimes called, as I

have been informed by an artist, the patience muscles. Shylock the Jew,

says,

“Signor Antonio, many a time and oft

In the Rialto have you rated me

About my monies and usances;

Still have I borne it with a patient shrug.”

_Merchant of Venice_, act i. sc. 3.

Sir C. Bell has given[1114] a life-like figure of a man, who is

shrinking back from some terrible danger, and is on the point of

screaming out in abject terror. He is represented with his shoulders

lifted up almost to his ears; and this at once declares that there is

no thought of resistance.

As shrugging the shoulders generally implies “I cannot do this or

that,” so by a slight change, it sometimes implies “I won’t do it.” The

movement then expresses a dogged determination not to act. Olmsted

describes[1115] an Indian in Texas as giving a great shrug to his

shoulders, when he was informed that a party of men were Germans and

not Americans, thus expressing that he would have nothing to do with

them. Sulky and obstinate children may be seen with both their

shoulders raised high up; but this movement is not associated with the

others which generally accompany a true shrug. An excellent

observer[1116] in describing a young man who was determined not to

yield to his father’s desire, says, “He thrust his hands deep down into

his pockets, and set up his shoulders to his ears, which was a good

warning that, come right or wrong, this rock should fly from its firm

base as soon as Jack would; and that any remonstrance on the subject

was purely futile.” As soon as the son got his own way, he “put his

shoulders into their natural position.”

Resignation is sometimes shown by the open hands being placed, one over

the other, on the lower part of the body. I should not have thought

this little gesture worth even a passing notice, had not Dr. W. Ogle

remarked to me that he had two or three times observed it in patients

who were preparing for operations under chloroform. They exhibited no

great fear, but seemed to declare by this posture of their hands, that

they had made up their minds, and were resigned to the inevitable.

We may now inquire why men in all parts of the world when they

feel,—whether or not they wish to show this feeling,—that they cannot

or will not do something, or will not resist something if done by

another, shrug their shoulders, at the same time often bending in their

elbows, showing the palms of their hands with extended fingers, often

throwing their heads a little on one side, raising their eyebrows, and

opening their mouths. These states of the mind are either simply

passive, or show a determination not to act. None of the above

movements are of the least service. The explanation lies, I cannot

doubt, in the principle of unconscious antithesis. This principle here

seems to come into play as clearly as in the case of a dog, who, when

feeling savage, puts himself in the proper attitude for attacking and

for making himself appear terrible to his enemy; but as soon as he

feels affectionate, throws his whole body into a directly opposite

attitude, though this is of no direct use to him.

Let it be observed how an indignant man, who resents, and will not

submit to some injury, holds his head erect, squares his shoulders, and

expands his chest. He often clenches his fists, and puts one or both

arms in the proper position for attack or defence, with the muscles of

his limbs rigid. He frowns,—that is, he contracts and lowers his

brows,—and, being determined, closes his mouth. The actions and

attitude of a helpless man are, in every one of these respects, exactly

the reverse. In Plate VI. we may imagine one of the figures on the left

side to have just said, “What do you mean by insulting me?” and one of

the figures on the right side to answer, “I really could not help it.”

The helpless man unconsciously contracts the muscles of his forehead

which are antagonistic to those that cause a frown, and thus raises his

eyebrows; at the same time he relaxes the muscles about the mouth, so

that the lower jaw drops. The antithesis is complete in every detail,

not only in the movements of the features, but in the position of the

limbs and in the attitude of the whole body, as may be seen in the

accompanying plate. As the helpless or apologetic man often wishes to

show his state of mind, he then acts in a conspicuous or demonstrative

manner.

In accordance with the fact that squaring the elbows and clenching the

fists are gestures by no means universal with the men of all races,

when they feel indignant and are prepared to attack their enemy, so it

appears that a helpless or apologetic frame of mind is expressed in

many parts of the world by merely shrugging the shoulders, without

turning inwards the elbows and opening the hands. The man or child who

is obstinate, or one who is resigned to some great misfortune, has in

neither case any idea of resistance by active means; and he expresses

this state of mind, by simply keeping his shoulders raised; or he may

possibly fold his arms across his breast.

_Signs of affirmation or approval, and of negation or disapproval:

nodding and shaking the head_.—I was curious to ascertain how far the

common signs used by us in affirmation and negation were general

throughout the world. These signs are indeed to a certain extent

expressive of our feelings, as we give a vertical nod of approval with

a smile to our children, when we approve of their conduct; and shake

our heads laterally with a frown, when we disapprove. With infants, the

first act of denial consists in refusing food; and I repeatedly noticed

with my own infants, that they did so by withdrawing their heads

laterally from the breast, or from anything offered them in a spoon. In

accepting food and taking it into their mouths, they incline their

heads forwards. Since making these observations I have been informed

that the same idea had occurred to Charma.[1117] It deserves notice

that in accepting or taking food, there is only a single movement

forward, and a single nod implies an affirmation. On the other hand, in

refusing food, especially if it be pressed on them, children frequently

move their heads several times from side to side, as we do in shaking

our heads in negation. Moreover, in the case of refusal, the head is

not rarely thrown backwards, or the mouth is closed, so that these

movements might likewise come to serve as signs of negation. Mr.

Wedgwood remarks on this subject,[1118] that “when the voice is exerted

with closed teeth or lips, it produces the sound of the letter _n_ or

_m_. Hence we may account for the use of the particle _ne_ to signify

negation, and possibly also of the Greek mh in the same sense.”

That these signs are innate or instinctive, at least with Anglo-Saxons,

is rendered highly probable by the blind and deaf Laura Bridgman

“constantly accompanying her _yes_ with the common affirmative nod, and

her _no_ with our negative shake of the head.” Had not Mr. Lieber

stated to the contrary,[1119] I should have imagined that these

gestures might have been acquired or learnt by her, considering her

wonderful sense of touch and appreciation of the movements of others.

With microcephalous idiots, who are so degraded that they never learn

to speak, one of them is described by Vogt,[1120] as answering, when

asked whether he wished for more food or drink, by inclining or shaking

his head. Schmalz, in his remarkable dissertation on the education of

the deaf and dumb, as well as of children raised only one degree above

idiotcy, assumes that they can always both make and understand the

common signs of affirmation and negation.[1121]

Nevertheless if we look to the various races of man, these signs are

not so universally employed as I should have expected; yet they seem

too general to be ranked as altogether conventional or artificial. My

informants assert that both signs are used by the Malays, by the

natives of Ceylon, the Chinese, the negroes of the Guinea coast, and,

according to Gaika, by the Kafirs of South Africa, though with these

latter people Mrs. Barber has never seen a lateral shake used as a

negative. With respect to the Australians, seven observers agree that a

nod is given in affirmation; five agree about a lateral shake in

negation, accompanied or not by some word; but Mr. Dyson Lacy has never

seen this latter sign in Queensland, and Mr. Bulmer says that in Gipps’

Land a negative is expressed by throwing the head a little backwards

and putting out the tongue. At the northern extremity of the continent,

near Torres Straits, the natives when uttering a negative “don’t shake

the head with it, but holding up the right hand, shake it by turning it

half round and back again two or three times.”[1122] The throwing back

of the head with a cluck of the tongue is said to be used as a negative

by the modern Greeks and Turks, the latter people expressing _yes_ by a

movement like that made by us when we shake our heads.[1123] The

Abyssinians, as I am informed by Captain Speedy, express a negative by

jerking the head to the right shoulder, together with a slight cluck,

the mouth being closed; an affirmation is expressed by the head being

thrown backwards and the eyebrows raised for an instant. The Tagals of

Luzon, in the Philippine Archipelago, as I hear from Dr. Adolf Meyer,

when they say “yes,” also throw the head backwards. According to the

Rajah Brooke, the Dyaks of Borneo express an affirmation by raising the

eyebrows, and a negation by slightly contracting them, together with a

peculiar look from the eyes. With the Arabs on the Nile, Professor and

Mrs. Asa Gray concluded that nodding in affirmation was rare, whilst

shaking the head in negation was never used, and was not even

understood by them. With the Esquimaux[1124] a nod means _yes_ and a

wink _no_. The New Zealanders “elevate the head and chin in place of

nodding acquiescence.”[1125]

With the Hindoos Mr. H. Erskine concludes from inquiries made from

experienced Europeans, and from native gentlemen, that the signs of

affirmation and negation vary—a nod and a lateral shake being sometimes

used as we do; but a negative is more commonly expressed by the head

being thrown suddenly backwards and a little to one side, with a cluck

of the tongue. What the meaning may be of this cluck of the tongue,

which has been observed with various people, I cannot imagine. A native

gentleman stated that affirmation is frequently shown by the head being

thrown to the left. I asked Mr. Scott to attend particularly to this

point, and, after repeated observations, he believes that a vertical

nod is not commonly used by the natives in affirmation, but that the

head is first thrown backwards either to the left or right, and then

jerked obliquely forwards only once. This movement would perhaps have

been described by a less careful observer as a lateral shake. He also

states that in negation the head is usually held nearly upright, and

shaken several times.

Mr. Bridges informs me that the Fuegians nod their heads vertically in

affirmation, and shake them laterally in denial. With the wild Indians

of North America, according to Mr. Washington Matthews, nodding and

shaking the head have been learnt from Europeans, and are not naturally

employed. They express affirmation by describing with the hand (all the

fingers except the index being flexed) a curve downwards and outwards

from the body, whilst negation is expressed by moving the open hand

outwards, with the palm facing inwards. Other observers state that the

sign of affirmation with these Indians is the forefinger being raised,

and then lowered and pointed to the ground, or the hand is waved

straight forward from the face; and that the sign of negation is the

finger or whole hand shaken from side to side.[1126] This latter

movement probably represents in all cases the lateral shaking of the

head. The Italians are said in like manner to move the lifted finger

from right to left in negation, as indeed we English sometimes do.

On the whole we find considerable diversity in the signs of affirmation

and negation in the different races of man. With respect to negation,

if we admit that the shaking of the finger or hand from side to side is

symbolic of the lateral movement of the head; and if we admit that the

sudden backward movement of the head represents one of the actions

often practised by young children in refusing food, then there is much

uniformity throughout the world in the signs of negation, and we can

see how they originated. The most marked exceptions are presented by

the Arabs, Esquimaux, some Australian tribes, and Dyaks. With the

latter a frown is the sign of negation, and with us frowning often

accompanies a lateral shake of the head.

With respect to nodding in affirmation, the exceptions are rather more

numerous, namely with some of the Hindoos, with the Turks, Abyssinians,

Dyaks, Tagals, and New Zealanders. The eyebrows are sometimes raised in

affirmation, and as a person in bending his head forwards and downwards

naturally looks up to the person whom he addresses, he will be apt to

raise his eyebrows, and this sign may thus have arisen as an

abbreviation. So again with the New Zealanders, the lifting up the chin

and head in affirmation may perhaps represent in an abbreviated form

the upward movement of the head after it has been nodded forwards and

downwards.

CHAPTER XII. SURPRISE—ASTONISHMENT—FEAR—HORROR.

Surprise, astonishment—Elevation of the eyebrows—Opening the

mouth—Protrusion of the lips—Gestures accompanying

surprise—Admiration—Fear—Terror—Erection of the hair—Contraction of the

platysma muscle—Dilatation of the pupils—Horror—Conclusion.

Attention, if sudden and close, graduates into surprise; and this into

astonishment; and this into stupefied amazement. The latter frame of

mind is closely akin to terror. Attention is shown by the eyebrows

being slightly raised; and as this state increases into surprise, they

are raised to a much greater extent, with the eyes and mouth widely

open. The raising of the eyebrows is necessary in order that the eyes

should be opened quickly and widely; and this movement produces

transverse wrinkles across the forehead. The degree to which the eyes

and mouth are opened corresponds with the degree of surprise felt; but

these movements must be coordinated; for a widely opened mouth with

eyebrows only slightly raised results in a meaningless grimace, as Dr.

Duchenne has shown in one of his photographs.[1201] On the other hand,

a person may often be seen to pretend surprise by merely raising his

eyebrows.

Dr. Duchenne has given a photograph of an old man with his eyebrows

well elevated and arched by the galvanization of the frontal muscle;

and with his mouth voluntarily opened. This figure expresses surprise

with much truth. I showed it to twenty-four persons without a word of

explanation, and one alone did not at all understand what was intended.

A second person answered terror, which is not far wrong; some of the

others, however, added to the words surprise or astonishment, the

epithets horrified, woful, painful, or disgusted.

The eyes and mouth being widely open is an expression universally

recognized as one of surprise or astonishment. Thus Shakespeare says,

“I saw a smith stand with open mouth swallowing a tailor’s news.”

(‘King John,’ act iv. scene ii.) And again, “They seemed almost, with

staring on one another, to tear the cases of their eyes; there was

speech in the dumbness, language in their very gesture; they looked as

they had heard of a world destroyed.” (‘Winter’s Tale,’ act v. scene

ii.)

My informants answer with remarkable uniformity to the same effect,

with respect to the various races of man; the above movements of the

features being often accompanied by certain gestures and sounds,

presently to be described. Twelve observers in different parts of

Australia agree on this head. Mr. Winwood Reade has observed this

expression with the negroes on the Guinea coast. The chief Gaika and

others answer _yes_ to my query with respect to the Kafirs of South

Africa; and so do others emphatically with reference to the

Abyssinians, Ceylonese, Chinese, Fuegians, various tribes of North

America, and New Zealanders. With the latter, Mr. Stack states that the

expression is more plainly shown by certain individuals than by others,

though all endeavour as much as possible to conceal their feelings. The

Dyaks of Borneo are said by the Rajah Brooke to open their eyes widely,

when astonished, often swinging their heads to and fro, and beating

their breasts. Mr. Scott informs me that the workmen in the Botanic

Gardens at Calcutta are strictly ordered not to smoke; but they often

disobey this order, and when suddenly surprised in the act, they first

open their eyes and mouths widely. They then often slightly shrug their

shoulders, as they perceive that discovery is inevitable, or frown and

stamp on the ground from vexation. Soon they recover from their

surprise, and abject fear is exhibited by the relaxation of all their

muscles; their heads seem to sink between their shoulders; their fallen

eyes wander to and fro; and they supplicate forgiveness.

The well-known Australian explorer, Mr. Stuart, has given[1202] a

striking account of stupefied amazement together with terror in a

native who had never before seen a man on horseback. Mr. Stuart

approached unseen and called to him from a little distance. “He turned

round and saw me. What he imagined I was I do not know; but a finer

picture of fear and astonishment I never saw. He stood incapable of

moving a limb, riveted to the spot, mouth open and eyes staring.... He

remained motionless until our black got within a few yards of him, when

suddenly throwing down his waddies, he jumped into a mulga bush as high

as he could get.” He could not speak, and answered not a word to the

inquiries made by the black, but, trembling from head to foot, “waved

with his hand for us to be off.”

That the eyebrows are raised by an innate or instinctive impulse may be

inferred from the fact that Laura Bridgman invariably acts thus when

astonished, as I have been assured by the lady who has lately had

charge of her. As surprise is excited by something unexpected or

unknown, we naturally desire, when startled, to perceive the cause as

quickly as possible; and we consequently open our eyes fully, so that

the field of vision may be increased, and the eyeballs moved easily in

any direction. But this hardly accounts for the eyebrows being so

greatly raised as is the case, and for the wild staring of the open

eyes. The explanation lies, I believe, in the impossibility of opening

the eyes with great rapidity by merely raising the upper lids. To

effect this the eyebrows must be lifted energetically. Any one who will

try to open his eyes as quickly as possible before a mirror will find

that he acts thus; and the energetic lifting up of the eyebrows opens

the eyes so widely that they stare, the white being exposed all round

the iris. Moreover, the elevation of the eyebrows is an advantage in

looking upwards; for as long as they are lowered they impede our vision

in this direction. Sir C. Bell gives[1203] a curious little proof of

the part which the eyebrows play in opening the eyelids. In a stupidly

drunken man all the muscles are relaxed, and the eyelids consequently

droop, in the same manner as when we are falling asleep. To counteract

this tendency the drunkard raises his eyebrows; and this gives to him a

puzzled, foolish look, as is well represented in one of Hogarth’s

drawings. The habit of raising the eyebrows having once been gained in

order to see as quickly as possible all around us, the movement would

follow from the force of association whenever astonishment was felt

from any cause, even from a sudden sound or an idea.

With adult persons, when the eyebrows are raised, the whole forehead

becomes much wrinkled in transverse lines; but with children this

occurs only to a slight degree. The wrinkles run in lines concentric

with each eyebrow, and are partially confluent in the middle. They are

highly characteristic of the expression of surprise or astonishment.

Each eyebrow, when raised, becomes also, as Duchenne remarks,[1204]

more arched than it was before.

The cause of the mouth being opened when astonishment is felt, is a

much more complex affair; and several causes apparently concur in

leading to this movement. It has often been supposed[1205] that the

sense of hearing is thus rendered more acute; but I have watched

persons listening intently to a slight noise, the nature and source of

which they knew perfectly, and they did not open their mouths.

Therefore I at one time imagined that the open mouth might aid in

distinguishing the direction whence a sound proceeded, by giving

another channel for its entrance into the ear through the eustachian

tube, But Dr. W. Ogle[1206] has been so kind as to search the best

recent authorities on the functions of the eustachian tube, and he

informs me that it is almost conclusively proved that it remains closed

except during the act of deglutition; and that in persons in whom the

tube remains abnormally open, the sense of hearing, as far as external

sounds are concerned, is by no means improved; on the contrary, it is

impaired by the respiratory sounds being rendered more distinct. If a

watch be placed within the mouth, but not allowed to touch the sides,

the ticking is heard much less plainly than when held outside. In

persons in whom from disease or a cold the eustachian tube is

permanently or temporarily closed, the sense of hearing is injured; but

this may be accounted for by mucus accumulating within the tube, and

the consequent exclusion of air. We may therefore infer that the mouth

is not kept open under the sense of astonishment for the sake of

hearing sounds more distinctly; notwithstanding that most deaf people

keep their mouths open.

Every sudden emotion, including astonishment, quickens the action of

the heart, and with it the respiration. Now we can breathe, as

Gratiolet remarks[1207] and as appears to me to be the case, much more

quietly through the open mouth than through the nostrils. Therefore,

when we wish to listen intently to any sound, we either stop breathing,

or breathe as quietly as possible, by opening our mouths, at the same

time keeping our bodies motionless. One of my sons was awakened in the

night by a noise under circumstances which naturally led to great care,

and after a few minutes he perceived that his mouth was widely open. He

then became conscious that he had opened it for the sake of breathing

as quietly as possible. This view receives support from the reversed

case which occurs with dogs. A dog when panting after exercise, or on a

hot day, breathes loudly; but if his attention be suddenly aroused, he

instantly pricks his ears to listen, shuts his mouth, and breathes

quietly, as he is enabled to do, through his nostrils.

When the attention is concentrated for a length of time with fixed

earnestness on any object or subject, all the organs of the body are

forgotten and neglected;[1208] and as the nervous energy of each

individual is limited in amount, little is transmitted to any part of

the system, excepting that which is at the time brought into energetic

action. Therefore many of the muscles tend to become relaxed, and the

jaw drops from its own weight. This will account for the dropping of

the jaw and open mouth of a man stupefied with amazement, and perhaps

when less strongly affected. I have noticed this appearance, as I find

recorded in my notes, in very young children when they were only

moderately surprised.

There is still another and highly effective cause, leading to the mouth

being opened, when we are astonished, and more especially when we are

suddenly startled. We can draw a full and deep inspiration much more

easily through the widely open mouth than through the nostrils. Now

when we start at any sudden sound or sight, almost all the muscles of

the body are involuntarily and momentarily thrown into strong action,

for the sake of guarding ourselves against or jumping away from the

danger, which we habitually associate with anything unexpected. But we

always unconsciously prepare ourselves for any great exertion, as

formerly explained, by first taking a deep and full inspiration, and we

consequently open our mouths. If no exertion follows, and we still

remain astonished, we cease for a time to breathe, or breathe as

quietly as possible, in order that every sound may be distinctly heard.

Or again, if our attention continues long and earnestly absorbed, all

our muscles become relaxed, and the jaw, which was at first suddenly

opened, remains dropped. Thus several causes concur towards this same

movement, whenever surprise, astonishment, or amazement is felt.

Although when thus affected, our mouths are generally opened, yet the

lips are often a little protruded. This fact reminds us of the same

movement, though in a much more strongly marked degree, in the

chimpanzee and orang when astonished. As a strong expiration naturally

follows the deep inspiration which accompanies the first sense of

startled surprise, and as the lips are often protruded, the various

sounds which are then commonly uttered can apparently be accounted for.

But sometimes a strong expiration alone is heard; thus Laura Bridgman,

when amazed, rounds and protrudes her lips, opens them, and breathes

strongly.[1209] One of the commonest sounds is a deep _Oh_; and this

would naturally follow, as explained by Helmholtz, from the mouth being

moderately opened and the lips protruded. On a quiet night some rockets

were fired from the ‘Beagle,’ in a little creek at Tahiti, to amuse the

natives; and as each rocket, was let off there was absolute silence,

but this was invariably followed by a deep groaning _Oh_, resounding

all round the bay. Mr. Washington Matthews says that the North American

Indians express astonishment by a groan; and the negroes on the West

Coast of Africa, according to Mr. Winwood Reade, protrude their lips,

and make a sound like _heigh, heigh_. If the mouth is not much opened,

whilst the lips are considerably protruded, a blowing, hissing, or

whistling noise is produced. Mr. R. Brough Smith informs me that an

Australian from the interior was taken to the theatre to see an acrobat

rapidly turning head over heels: “he was greatly astonished, and

protruded his lips, making a noise with his mouth as if blowing out a

match.” According to Mr. Bulmer the Australians, when surprised, utter

the exclamation _korki_, “and to do this the mouth is drawn out as if

going to whistle.” We Europeans often whistle as a sign of surprise;

thus, in a recent novel[1210] it is said, “here the man expressed his

astonishment and disapprobation by a prolonged whistle.” A Kafir girl,

as Mr. J. Mansel Weale informs me, “on hearing of the high price of an

article, raised her eyebrows and whistled just as a European would.”

Mr. Wedgwood remarks that such sounds are written down as _whew_, and

they serve as interjections for surprise.

According to three other observers, the Australians often evince

astonishment by a clucking noise. Europeans also sometimes express

gentle surprise by a little clicking noise of nearly the same kind. We

have seen that when we are startled, the mouth is suddenly opened; and

if the tongue happens to be then pressed closely against the palate,

its sudden withdrawal will produce a sound of this kind, which might

thus come to express surprise.

Gestures of the Body. Plate VII

Turning to gestures of the body. A surprised person often raises his

opened hands high above his head, or by bending his arms only to the

level of his face. The flat palms are directed towards the person who

causes this feeling, and the straightened fingers are separated. This

gesture is represented by Mr. Rejlander in Plate VII. fig. 1. In the

‘Last Supper,’ by Leonardo da Vinci, two of the Apostles have their

hands half uplifted, clearly expressive of their astonishment. A

trustworthy observer told me that he had lately met his wife under most

unexpected circumstances: “She started, opened her mouth and eyes very

widely, and threw up both her arms above her head.” Several years ago I

was surprised by seeing several of my young children earnestly doing

something together on the ground; but the distance was too great for me

to ask what they were about. Therefore I threw up my open hands with

extended fingers above my head; and as soon as I had done this, I

became conscious of the action. I then waited, without saying a word,

to see if my children had understood this gesture; and as they came

running to me they cried out, “We saw that you were astonished at us.”

I do not know whether this gesture is common to the various races of

man, as I neglected to make inquiries on this head. That it is innate

or natural may be inferred from the fact that Laura Bridgman, when

amazed, “spreads her arms and turns her hands with extended fingers

upwards;”[1211] nor is it likely, considering that the feeling of

surprise is generally a brief one, that she should have learnt this

gesture through her keen sense of touch.

Huschke describes[1212] a somewhat different yet allied gesture, which

he says is exhibited by persons when astonished. They hold themselves

erect, with the features as before described, but with the straightened

arms extended backwards—the stretched fingers being separated from each

other. I have never myself seen this gesture; but Huschke is probably

correct; for a friend asked another man how he would express great

astonishment, and he at once threw himself into this attitude.

These gestures are, I believe, explicable on the principle of

antithesis. We have seen that an indignant man holds his head erect,

squares his shoulders, turns out his elbows, often clenches his fist,

frowns, and closes his mouth; whilst the attitude of a helpless man is

in every one of these details the reverse. Now, a man in an ordinary

frame of mind, doing nothing and thinking of nothing in particular,

usually keeps his two arms suspended laxly by his sides, with his hands

somewhat flexed, and the fingers near together. Therefore, to raise the

arms suddenly, either the whole arms or the fore-arms, to open the

palms flat, and to separate the fingers,—or, again, to straighten the

arms, extending them backwards with separated fingers,—are movements in

complete antithesis to those preserved under an indifferent frame of

mind, and they are, in consequence, unconsciously assumed by an

astonished man. There is, also, often a desire to display surprise in a

conspicuous manner, and the above attitudes are well fitted for this

purpose. It may be asked why should surprise, and only a few other

states of the mind, be exhibited by movements in antithesis to others.

But this principle will not be brought into play in the case of those

emotions, such as terror, great joy, suffering, or rage, which

naturally lead to certain lines of action and produce certain effects

on the body, for the whole system is thus preoccupied; and these

emotions are already thus expressed with the greatest plainness.

There is another little gesture, expressive of astonishment of which I

can offer no explanation; namely, the hand being placed over the mouth

or on some part of the head. This has been observed with so many races

of man, that it must have some natural origin. A wild Australian was

taken into a large room full of official papers, which surprised him

greatly, and he cried out, _cluck, cluck, cluck_, putting the back of

his hand towards his lips. Mrs. Barber says that the Kafirs and Fingoes

express astonishment by a serious look and by placing the right hand

upon the mouth, uttering the word _mawo_, which means ‘wonderful.’ The

Bushmen are said[1213] to put their right hands to their necks, bending

their heads backwards. Mr. Winwood Reade has observed that the negroes

on the West Coast of Africa, when surprised, clap their hands to their

mouths, saying at the same time, “My mouth cleaves to me,” i. e. to my

hands; and he has heard that this is their usual gesture on such

occasions. Captain Speedy informs me that the Abyssinians place their

right hand to the forehead, with the palm outside. Lastly, Mr.

Washington Matthews states that the conventional sign of astonishment

with the wild tribes of the western parts of the United States “is made

by placing the half-closed hand over the mouth; in doing this, the head

is often bent forwards, and words or low groans are sometimes uttered.”

Catlin[1214] makes the same remark about the hand being pressed over

the mouth by the Mandans and other Indian tribes.

_Admiration_.—Little need be said on this head. Admiration apparently

consists of surprise associated with some pleasure and a sense of

approval. When vividly felt, the eyes are opened and the eyebrows

raised; the eyes become bright, instead of remaining blank, as under

simple astonishment; and the mouth, instead of gaping open, expands

into a smile.

_Fear, Terror_.—The word ‘fear’ seems to be derived from what is sudden

and dangerous;[1215] and that of terror from the trembling of the vocal

organs and body. I use the word ‘terror’ for extreme fear; but some

writers think it ought to be confined to cases in which the imagination

is more particularly concerned. Fear is often preceded by astonishment,

and is so far akin to it, that both lead to the senses of sight and

hearing being instantly aroused. In both cases the eyes and mouth are

widely opened, and the eyebrows raised. The frightened man at first

stands like a statue motionless and breathless, or crouches down as if

instinctively to escape observation.

The heart beats quickly and violently, so that it palpitates or knocks

against the ribs; but it is very doubtful whether it then works more

efficiently than usual, so as to send a greater supply of blood to all

parts of the body; for the skin instantly becomes pale, as during

incipient faintness. This paleness of the surface, however, is probably

in large part, or exclusively, due to the vasomotor centre being

affected in such a manner as to cause the contraction of the small

arteries of the skin. That the skin is much affected under the sense of

great fear, we see in the marvellous and inexplicable manner in which

perspiration immediately exudes from it. This exudation is all the more

remarkable, as the surface is then cold, and hence the term a cold

sweat; whereas, the sudorific glands are properly excited into action

when the surface is heated. The hairs also on the skin stand erect; and

the superficial muscles shiver. In connection with the disturbed action

of the heart, the breathing is hurried. The salivary glands act

imperfectly; the mouth becomes dry,[1216] and is often opened and shut.

I have also noticed that under slight fear there is a strong tendency

to yawn. One of the best-marked symptoms is the trembling of all the

muscles of the body; and this is often first seen in the lips. From

this cause, and from the dryness of the mouth, the voice becomes husky

or indistinct, or may altogether fail. “Obstupui, steteruntque comae,

et vox faucibus haesit.”

Of vague fear there is a well-known and grand description in Job:—“In

thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men,

fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake.

Then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up. It

stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was

before my eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall

mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his

Maker?” (Job iv. 13)

As fear increases into an agony of terror, we behold, as under all

violent emotions, diversified results. The heart beats wildly, or may

fail to act and faintness ensue; there is a death-like pallor; the

breathing is laboured; the wings of the nostrils are wildly dilated;

“there is a gasping and convulsive motion of the lips, a tremor on the

hollow cheek, a gulping and catching of the throat;”[1217] the

uncovered and protruding eyeballs are fixed on the object of terror; or

they may roll restlessly from side to side, _huc illuc volvens oculos

totumque pererrat_.[1218] The pupils are said to be enormously dilated.

All the muscles of the body may become rigid, or may be thrown into

convulsive movements. The hands are alternately clenched and opened,

often with a twitching movement. The arms may be protruded, as if to

avert some dreadful danger, or may be thrown wildly over the head. The

Rev. Mr. Hagenauer has seen this latter action in a terrified

Australian. In other cases there is a sudden and uncontrollable

tendency to headlong flight; and so strong is this, that the boldest

soldiers may be seized with a sudden panic.

As fear rises to an extreme pitch, the dreadful scream of terror is

heard. Great beads of sweat stand on the skin. All the muscles of the

body are relaxed. Utter prostration soon follows, and the mental powers

fail. The intestines are affected. The sphincter muscles cease to act,

and no longer retain the contents of the body.

Photograph of an Insane Woman. Fig. 19

Dr. J. Crichton Browne has given me so striking an account of intense

fear in an insane woman, aged thirty-five, that the description though

painful ought not to be omitted. When a paroxysm seizes her, she

screams out, “This is hell!” “There is a black woman!” “I can’t get

out!”—and other such exclamations. When thus screaming, her movements

are those of alternate tension and tremor. For one instant she clenches

her hands, holds her arms out before her in a stiff semi-flexed

position; then suddenly bends her body forwards, sways rapidly to and

fro, draws her fingers through her hair, clutches at her neck, and

tries to tear off her clothes. The sterno-cleido-mastoid muscles (which

serve to bend the head on the chest) stand out prominently, as if

swollen, and the skin in front of them is much wrinkled. Her hair,

which is cut short at the back of her head, and is smooth when she is

calm, now stands on end; that in front being dishevelled by the

movements of her hands. The countenance expresses great mental agony.

The skin is flushed over the face and neck, down to the clavicles, and

the veins of the forehead and neck stand out like thick cords. The

lower lip drops, and is somewhat everted. The mouth is kept half open,

with the lower jaw projecting. The cheeks are hollow and deeply

furrowed in curved lines running from the wings of the nostrils to the

corners of the mouth. The nostrils themselves are raised and extended.

The eyes are widely opened, and beneath them the skin appears swollen;

the pupils are large. The forehead is wrinkled transversely in many

folds, and at the inner extremities of the eyebrows it is strongly

furrowed in diverging lines, produced by the powerful and persistent

contraction of the corrugators.

Terror. Fig. 20

Mr. Bell has also described[1219] an agony of terror and of despair,

which he witnessed in a murderer, whilst carried to the place of

execution in Turin. “On each side of the car the officiating priests

were seated; and in the centre sat the criminal himself. It was

impossible to witness the condition of this unhappy wretch without

terror; and yet, as if impelled by some strange infatuation, it was

equally impossible not to gaze upon an object so wild, so full of

horror. He seemed about thirty-five years of age; of large and muscular

form; his countenance marked by strong and savage features; half naked,

pale as death, agonized with terror, every limb strained in anguish,

his hands clenched convulsively, the sweat breaking out on his bent and

contracted brow, he kissed incessantly the figure of our Saviour,

painted on the flag which was suspended before him; but with an agony

of wildness and despair, of which nothing ever exhibited on the stage

can give the slightest conception.”

I will add only one other case, illustrative of a man utterly

prostrated by terror. An atrocious murderer of two persons was brought

into a hospital, under the mistaken impression that he had poisoned

himself; and Dr. W. Ogle carefully watched him the next morning, while

he was being handcuffed and taken away by the police. His pallor was

extreme, and his prostration so great that he was hardly able to dress

himself. His skin perspired; and his eyelids and head drooped so much

that it was impossible to catch even a glimpse of his eyes. His lower

jaw hung down. There was no contraction of any facial muscle, and Dr.

Ogle is almost certain that the hair did not stand on end, for he

observed it narrowly, as it had been dyed for the sake of concealment.

With respect to fear, as exhibited by the various races of man, my

informants agree that the signs are the same as with Europeans. They

are displayed in an exaggerated degree with the Hindoos and natives of

Ceylon. Mr. Geach has seen Malays when terrified turn pale and shake;

and Mr. Brough Smyth states that a native Australian “being on one

occasion much frightened, showed a complexion as nearly approaching to

what we call paleness, as can well be conceived in the case of a very

black man.” Mr. Dyson Lacy has seen extreme fear shown in an

Australian, by a nervous twitching of the hands, feet, and lips; and by

the perspiration standing on the skin. Many savages do not repress the

signs of fear so much as Europeans; and they often tremble greatly.

With the Kafir, Gaika says, in his rather quaint English, the shaking

“of the body is much experienced, and the eyes are widely open.” With

savages, the sphincter muscles are often relaxed, just as may be

observed in much frightened dogs, and as I have seen with monkeys when

terrified by being caught.

_The erection of the hair_.—Some of the signs of fear deserve a little

further consideration. Poets continually speak of the hair standing on

end; Brutus says to the ghost of Caesar, “that mak’st my blood cold,

and my hair to stare.” And Cardinal Beaufort, after the murder of

Gloucester exclaims, “Comb down his hair; look, look, it stands

upright.” As I did not feel sure whether writers of fiction might not

have applied to man what they had often observed in animals, I begged

for information from Dr. Crichton Browne with respect to the insane. He

states in answer that he has repeatedly seen their hair erected under

the influence of sudden and extreme terror. For instance, it is

occasionally necessary to inject morphia, under the skin of an insane

woman, who dreads the operation extremely, though it causes very little

pain; for she believes that poison is being introduced into her system,

and that her bones will be softened, and her flesh turned into dust.

She becomes deadly pale; her limbs are stiffened by a sort of tetanic

spasm, and her hair is partially erected on the front of the head.

Dr. Browne further remarks that the bristling of the hair which is so

common in the insane, is not always associated with terror. It is

perhaps most frequently seen in chronic maniacs, who rave incoherently

and have destructive impulses; but it is during their paroxysms of

violence that the bristling is most observable. The fact of the hair

becoming erect under the influence both of rage and fear agrees

perfectly with what we have seen in the lower animals. Dr. Browne

adduces several cases in evidence. Thus with a man now in the Asylum,

before the recurrence of each maniacal paroxysm, “the hair rises up

from his forehead like the mane of a Shetland pony.” He has sent me

photographs of two women, taken in the intervals between their

paroxysms, and he adds with respect to one of these women, “that the

state of her hair is a sure and convenient criterion of her mental

condition.” I have had one of these photographs copied, and the

engraving gives, if viewed from a little distance, a faithful

representation of the original, with the exception that the hair

appears rather too coarse and too much curled. The extraordinary

condition of the hair in the insane is due, not only to its erection,

but to its dryness and harshness, consequent on the subcutaneous glands

failing to act. Dr. Bucknill has said[1220] that a lunatic “is a

lunatic to his finger’s ends;” he might have added, and often to the

extremity of each particular hair.

Dr. Browne mentions as an empirical confirmation of the relation which

exists in the insane between the state of their hair and minds, that

the wife of a medical man, who has charge of a lady suffering from

acute melancholia, with a strong fear of death, for herself, her

husband and children, reported verbally to him the day before receiving

my letter as follows, “I think Mrs. —— will soon improve, for her hair

is getting smooth; and I always notice that our patients get better

whenever their hair ceases to be rough and unmanageable.”

Dr. Browne attributes the persistently rough condition of the hair in

many insane patients, in part to their minds being always somewhat

disturbed, and in part to the effects of habit,—that is, to the hair

being frequently and strongly erected during their many recurrent

paroxysms. In patients in whom the bristling of the hair is extreme,

the disease is generally permanent and mortal; but in others, in whom

the bristling is moderate, as soon as they recover their health of mind

the hair recovers its smoothness.

In a previous chapter we have seen that with animals the hairs are

erected by the contraction of minute, unstriped, and involuntary

muscles, which run to each separate follicle. In addition to this

action, Mr. J. Wood has clearly ascertained by experiment, as he

informs me, that with man the hairs on the front of the head which

slope forwards, and those on the back which slope backwards, are raised

in opposite directions by the contraction of the occipito-frontalis or

scalp muscle. So that this muscle seems to aid in the erection of the

hairs on the head of man in the same manner as the homologous

_panniculus carnosus_ aids, or takes the greater part, in the erection

of the spines on the backs of some of the lower animals.

_Contraction of the platysma myoides muscle_.—This muscle is spread

over the sides of the neck, extending downwards to a little beneath the

collar-bones, and upwards to the lower part of the cheeks. A portion,

called the risorius, is represented in the woodcut (M) fig. 2. The

contraction of this muscle draws the corners of the mouth and the lower

parts of the checks downwards and backwards. It produces at the same

time divergent, longitudinal, prominent ridges on the sides of the neck

in the young; and, in old thin persons, fine transverse wrinkles. This

muscle is sometimes said not to be under the control of the will; but

almost every one, if told to draw the corners of his mouth backwards

and downwards with great force, brings it into action. I have, however,

heard of a man who can voluntarily act on it only on one side of his

neck.

Sir C. Bell[1221] and others have stated that this muscle is strongly

contracted under the influence of fear; and Duchenne insists so

strongly on its importance in the expression of this emotion, that he

calls it the _muscle of fright_.[1222] He admits, however, that its

contraction is quite inexpressive unless associated with widely open

eyes and mouth. He has given a photograph (copied and reduced in the

accompanying woodcut) of the same old man as on former occasions, with

his eyebrows strongly raised, his mouth opened, and the platysma

contracted, all by means of galvanism. The original photograph was

shown to twenty-four persons, and they were separately asked, without

any explanation being given, what expression was intended: twenty

instantly answered, “intense fright” or “horror”; three said pain, and

one extreme discomfort. Dr. Duchenne has given another photograph of

the same old man, with the platysma contracted, the eyes and mouth

opened, and the eyebrows rendered oblique, by means of galvanism. The

expression thus induced is very striking (see Plate VII. fig. 2); the

obliquity of the eyebrows adding the appearance of great mental

distress. The original was shown to fifteen persons; twelve answered

terror or horror, and three agony or great suffering. From these cases,

and from an examination of the other photographs given by Dr. Duchenne,

together with his remarks thereon, I think there can be little doubt

that the contraction of the platysma does add greatly to the expression

of fear. Nevertheless this muscle ought hardly to be called that of

fright, for its contraction is certainly not a necessary concomitant of

this state of mind.

A man may exhibit extreme terror in the plainest manner by death-like

pallor, by drops of perspiration on his skin, and by utter prostration,

with all the muscles of his body, including the platysma, completely

relaxed. Although Dr. Browne has often seen this muscle quivering and

contracting in the insane, he has not been able to connect its action

with any emotional condition in them, though he carefully attended to

patients suffering from great fear. Mr. Nicol, on the other hand, has

observed three cases in which this muscle appeared to be more or less

permanently contracted under the influence of melancholia, associated

with much dread; but in one of these cases, various other muscles about

the neck and head were subject to spasmodic contractions.

Dr. W. Ogle observed for me in one of the London hospitals about twenty

patients, just before they were put under the influence of chloroform

for operations. They exhibited some trepidation, but no great terror.

In only four of the cases was the platysma visibly contracted; and it

did not begin to contract until the patients began to cry. The muscle

seemed to contract at the moment of each deep-drawn inspiration; so

that it is very doubtful whether the contraction depended at all on the

emotion of fear. In a fifth case, the patient, who was not

chloroformed, was much terrified; and his platysma was more forcibly

and persistently contracted than in the other cases. But even here

there is room for doubt, for the muscle which appeared to be unusually

developed, was seen by Dr. Ogle to contract as the man moved his head

from the pillow, after the operation was over.

As I felt much perplexed why, in any case, a superficial muscle on the

neck should be especially affected by fear, I applied to my many

obliging correspondents for information about the contraction of this

muscle under other circumstances. It would be superfluous to give all

the answers which I have received. They show that this muscle acts,

often in a variable manner and degree, under many different conditions.

It is violently contracted in hydrophobia, and in a somewhat less

degree in lockjaw; sometimes in a marked manner during the

insensibility from chloroform. Dr. W. Ogle observed two male patients,

suffering from such difficulty in breathing, that the trachea had to be

opened, and in both the platysma was strongly contracted. One of these

men overheard the conversation of the surgeons surrounding him, and

when he was able to speak, declared that he had not been frightened. In

some other cases of extreme difficulty of respiration, though not

requiring tracheotomy, observed by Drs. Ogle and Langstaff, the

platysma was not contracted.

Mr. J. Wood, who has studied with such care the muscles of the human

body, as shown by his various publications, has often seen the platysma

contracted in vomiting, nausea, and disgust; also in children and

adults under the influence of rage,—for instance, in Irishwomen,

quarrelling and brawling together with angry gesticulations. This may

possibly have been due to their high and angry tones; for I know a

lady, an excellent musician, who, in singing certain high notes, always

contracts her platysma. So does a young man, as I have observed, in

sounding certain notes on the flute. Mr. J. Wood informs me that he has

found the platysma best developed in persons with thick necks and broad

shoulders; and that in families inheriting these peculiarities, its

development is usually associated with much voluntary power over the

homologous occipito-frontalis muscle, by which the scalp can be moved.

None of the foregoing cases appear to throw any light on the

contraction of the platysma from fear; but it is different, I think,

with the following cases. The gentleman before referred to, who can

voluntarily act on this muscle only on one side of his neck, is

positive that it contracts on both sides whenever he is startled.

Evidence has already been given showing that this muscle sometimes

contracts, perhaps for the sake of opening the mouth widely, when the

breathing is rendered difficult by disease, and during the deep

inspirations of crying-fits before an operation. Now, whenever a person

starts at any sudden sight or sound, he instantaneously draws a deep

breath; and thus the contraction of the platysma may possibly have

become associated with the sense of fear. But there is, I believe, a

more efficient relation. The first sensation of fear, or the

imagination of something dreadful, commonly excites a shudder. I have

caught myself giving a little involuntary shudder at a painful thought,

and I distinctly perceived that my platysma contracted; so it does if I

simulate a shudder. I have asked others to act in this manner; and in

some the muscle contracted, but not in others. One of my sons, whilst

getting out of bed, shuddered from the cold, and, as he happened to

have his hand on his neck, he plainly felt that this muscle strongly

contracted. He then voluntarily shuddered, as he had done on former

occasions, but the platysma was not then affected. Mr. J. Wood has also

several times observed this muscle contracting in patients, when

stripped for examination, and who were not frightened, but shivered

slightly from the cold. Unfortunately I have not been able to ascertain

whether, when the whole body shakes, as in the cold stage of an ague

fit, the platysma contracts. But as it certainly often contracts during

a shudder; and as a shudder or shiver often accompanies the first