Let us now call your attention to an illustration which embodies both principles—that of the Inner and the Outer—and the action and reaction between them, as given by that master of subtle ratiocination, Edgar Allan Poe. Poe in his story "The Purloined Letter" tells of a boy at school who attained great proficiency in the game of "even or odd" in which one player strives to guess whether the marbles held in the hand of his opponent are odd or even. The boy's plan was to gauge the intelligence of his opponent regarding the matter of making changes, and as Poe says: "this lay in mere observation and admeasurement of the astuteness of his opponents." Poe describes the process as follows: "For example, an arrant simpleton is his opponent, and, holding up his closed hand, asks, 'are they even or odd?' Our schoolboy replies, 'odd,' and loses; but upon the second trial he wins, for he then says to himself, 'the simpleton had them even upon the first trial, and his amount of cunning is just sufficient to make him have them odd upon the second; I will therefore guess odd;'—he guesses and wins. Now, with a simpleton a degree above the first, he would have reasoned thus: 'This fellow finds that in the first instance I guessed odd, and, in the second, he will propose to himself upon the first impulse, a simple variation from even to odd, as did the first simpleton; but then a second thought will suggest that this is too simple a variation, and finally he will decide upon putting it even as before. I will therefore guess even;' he guesses even and wins."
Poe continues by stating that this "is merely an identification of the reasoner's intellect with that of his opponent. Upon inquiring of the boy by what means he effected the thorough identification in which his success consisted, I received answer as follows: 'When I wish to find out how wise, or how stupid, or how good, or how wicked is any one, or what are his thoughts at the moment, I fashion the expression of my face, as accurately as possible in accordance with the expression of his, and then wait to see what thoughts or sentiments arise in my mind or heart, as if to match or correspond with the expression.' This response of the school boy lies at the bottom of all the spurious profundity which has been attributed to Rochefoucauld, to La Bougive, to Machiavelli, and to Campanella."
In this consideration of Human Nature we shall have much to say about the Outer Form. But we must ask the reader to always remember that the Outer Form is always the expression and manifestation of the Inner State, be that Inner State latent and dormant within the depths of the subconscious mentality, or else active and dynamic in conscious expression. Just as Prof. James so strongly insists, we cannot imagine an inner feeling or emotion without its corresponding outward physical expression, so is it impossible to imagine the outward expressions generally associated with a particular feeling or emotion without its corresponding inner state. Whether or not one of these, the outer or inner, is the cause of the other—and if so, which one is the cause and which the effect—need not concern us here. In fact, it would seem more reasonable to accept the theory that they are correlated and appear simultaneously. Many careful thinkers have held that action and reaction are practically the same thing—merely the opposite phases of the same fact. If this be so, then indeed when we are studying the Outer Form of Human Nature we are studying psychology just as much as when we are studying the Inner States. Prof. Wm. James in his works upon psychology insists upon the relevancy of the consideration of the outward expressions of the inner feeling and emotion, as we have seen. The same authority speaks even more emphatically upon this phase of the subject, as follows:
"The feeling, in the coarser emotions, results from the bodily expression.... My theory is that the bodily changes follow directly the perception of the exciting fact, and that our feeling of the same changes as they occur is the emotion.... Particular perceptions certainly do produce widespread bodily effects by a sort of immediate physical influence, antecedent to the arousal of an emotion or emotional idea.... Every one of the bodily changes, whatsoever it may be, is felt, acutely or obscurely, the moment it occurs.... If we fancy some strong emotion, and then try to abstract from our consciousness of it all the feelings of its bodily symptoms, we have nothing left behind.... A disembodied human emotion is a sheer nonentity. I do not say that it is a contradiction in the nature of things, or that pure spirits are necessarily condemned to cold intellectual lives; but I say that for us emotion disassociated from all bodily feeling is inconceivable. The more closely I scrutinize my states, the more persuaded I become that whatever 'coarse' affections and passions I have are in very truth constituted by, and made up of, those bodily changes which we ordinarily call their expression or consequence.... But our emotions must always be inwardly what they are, whatever may be the physiological ground of their apparition. If they are deep, pure, worthy, spiritual facts on any conceivable theory of their physiological source, they remain no less deep, pure, spiritual, and worthy of regard on this present sensational theory."
Kay says: "Does the mind or spirit of man, whatever it may be, in its actings in and through the body, leave a material impression or trace in its structure of every conscious action it performs, which remains permanently fixed, and forms a material record of all that it has done in the body, to which it can afterward refer as to a book and recall to mind, making it again, as it were, present to it?... We find nature everywhere around us recording its movements and marking the changes it has undergone in material forms,—in the crust of the earth, the composition of the rocks, the structure of the trees, the conformation of our bodies, and those spirits of ours, so closely connected with our material bodies, that so far as we know, they can think no thought, perform no action, without their presence and co-operation, may have been so joined in order to preserve a material and lasting record of all that they think and do."
Marsh says: "Every human movement, every organic act, every volition, passion, or emotion, every intellectual process, is accompanied with atomic disturbance." Picton says: "The soul never does one single action by itself apart from some excitement of bodily tissue." Emerson says: "The rolling rock leaves its scratches on the mountain; the river its channel in the soil; the animal its bones in the stratum; the fern and leaf their modest epitaph in the coal. The falling drop makes its sculpture in the sand or stone.... The ground is all memoranda and signatures, and every object covered over with hints which speak to the intelligent. In nature this self-registration is incessant." Morell says: "The mind depends for the manifestation of all its activities upon a material organism." Bain says: "The organ of the mind is not the brain by itself; it is the brain, nerve, muscles, organs of sense, viscera.... It is uncertain how far even thought, reminiscence, or the emotions of the past and absent could be sustained without the more distant communication between the brain and the rest of the body." And, thus, as we consider the subject carefully we see that psychology is as much concerned with the physical manifestations of the mental impulses and states as with the metaphysical aspect of those states—as much with the Outer Form as with the Inner State—for it is practically impossible to permanently separate them.
As an illustration of the physical accompaniment or Outer Form, of the psychical feeling or Inner State, the following quotation from Darwin's "Origin of the Emotions," will well serve the purpose:
"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 if 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 is exclusively, due to the vaso-motor 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 marvelous 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 and is often opened and shut. I have 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 seen in the lips. From this cause, and from the dryness of the mouth, the voice becomes husky or indistinct or may altogether fail.... As fear increases into an agony of terror, we behold, as under all violent emotions, diversified results. The heart beats wildly or fails to act and faintness ensues; there is a death-like pallor; the breathing is labored; the wings of the nostrils are widely dilated; there is a gasping and convulsive motion of the lips; a tremor of the hollow cheek, a gulping and catching of the throat; the uncovered and protruding eyeballs are fixed on the object of terror; or they may roll restlessly from side to side. 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 uncontrolled tendency to headlong flight; and so strong is this that the boldest soldiers may be seized with a sudden panic."
In conclusion, let us say that just as the above striking description of the master-scientist, Darwin, shows us that the particular emotion has its outer manifestations—the particular Inner State its Outer Form—so has the general character of the person its outer manifestation, and Outer Form. And, just as to the eye of the experienced observer at a distance (even in the case of a photographic representation, particularly in the case of a moving picture) may recognize the Inner State from the Outer Form of the feeling or emotion, so may the experienced character reader interpret the whole character of the person from the Outer Form thereof. The two interpretations are based on exactly the same general principles. The inner thought and feeling manifest in the outer physical form. He who learns the alphabet of Outer Form may read page after page of the book of Human Nature.