Conversations on Natural Philosophy, in which the Elements of that Science are Familiarly Explained

by Mrs. Marcet; Thomas P. Jones

Mrs. B. The nerves, are the only part of our frame, capable of sensation: they appear, therefore, to be the instruments, which the mind employs in its perceptions; for a sensation, always conveys an idea, to the mind. Now it is known, that our nerves can be affected only by contact; and for this reason, the organs of sense, cannot act at a distance: for instance, we are capable of smelling only particles which are actually in contact with the nerves of the nose. We have already observed, that the odour of a flower consists in effluvia, composed of very minute particles, which penetrate the nostrils, and strike upon the olfactory nerves, which instantly convey the idea of odour to the mind.

Emily. And sound, though it is said to be heard at a distance, is, in fact, heard only when the vibrations of the air, which convey it to our ears, strike upon the auditory nerve.

Caroline. There is no explanation required, to prove that the senses of feeling and of tasting, are excited only by contact.

Mrs. B. And I hope to convince you, that the sense of sight, is so likewise. The nerves, which constitute the sense of sight, are not different in their nature from those of the other organs; they are merely instruments which convey ideas to the mind, and can be affected only on contact. Now, since real objects cannot be brought to touch the optic nerve, the image of them is conveyed thither by the rays of light, proceeding from real objects, which actually strike upon the optic nerve, and form that image which the mind perceives.

Caroline. While I listen to your reasoning, I feel convinced; but when I look upon the objects around, and think that I do not see them, but merely their image painted in my eyes, my belief is again staggered. I cannot reconcile to myself, the idea, that I do not really see this book which I hold in my hand, nor the words which I read in it.

Mrs. B. Did it ever occur to you as extraordinary, that you never beheld your own face?

Caroline. No; because I so frequently see an exact representation of it in the looking-glass.

Mrs. B. You see a far more exact representation of objects on the retina of your eye: it is a much more perfect mirror, than any made by art.

Emily. But is it possible, that the extensive landscape, which I now behold from the window, should be represented on so small a space, as the retina of the eye?

Mrs. B. It would be impossible for art to paint so small and distinct a miniature; but nature works with a surer hand, and a more delicate pencil. That power alone, which forms the feathers of the butterfly, and the organs of the minutest insect, can pourtray so admirable and perfect a miniature, as that which is represented on the retina of the eye.