2. Position.—The sight has this peculiar prerogative, that it apprehends the place of its objects directly and primarily. We see where an object is at the same instant that we see what it is. If we see two objects, we see their relative position. We cannot help [303] perceiving that one is above or below, to the right or to the left of the other, if we perceive them at all.
There is nothing corresponding to this in sound. When we hear a noise, we do not necessarily assign a place to it. It may easily happen that we cannot tell from which side a thunder-clap comes. And though we often can judge in what direction a voice is heard, this is a matter of secondary impression, and of inference from concomitant circumstances, not a primary fact of sensation. The judgments which we form concerning the position of sounding bodies are obtained by the conscious or unconscious comparison of the impressions made on the two ears, and on the bones of the head in general; they are not inseparable conditions of hearing. We may hear sounds, and be uncertain whether they are ‘above, around, or underneath!’ but the moment anything visible appears, however unexpected, we can say, ‘see where it comes!’
Since we can see the relative position of things, we can see figure, which is but the relative position of the different parts of the boundary of the object. And thus the whole visible world exhibits to us a scene of various shapes, coloured and shaded according to their form and position, but each having relations of position to all the rest; and altogether, entirely filling up the whole range which the eye can command.
3. Distance.—The distance of objects from us is no matter of immediate perception, but is a judgment and inference formed from our sensations, in something of the same way as our judgment of position by the ear, though more precise. That this is so, was most distinctly shown by Berkeley, in his New Theory of Vision. The elements on which we form our judgment are, the effort by which we fix both eyes on the same object, the effort by which we adjust each eye to distinct vision, and the known forms, colours, and parts of objects, as compared with their appearance. The right interpretation of the information which these circumstances give us respecting the true distances and forms of things, is gradually learnt by experience, the lesson being begun in our earliest infancy, and inculcated upon us every hour during which we [304] use our eyes. The completeness with which the lesson is learnt is truly admirable; for we forget that our conclusion is obtained indirectly, and mistake a judgment on evidence for an intuitive perception. This, however, is not more surprizing than the rapidity and unconsciousness of effort with which we understand the meaning of the speech that we hear, or the book that we read. In both cases, the habit of interpretation is become as familiar as the act of perception. And this is the case with regard to vision. We see the breadth of the street as clearly and readily as we see the house on the other side of it. We see the house to be square, however obliquely it be presented to us. Indeed the difficulty is, to recover the consciousness of our real and original sensations;—to discover what is the apparent relation of the lines which appear before us. As we have already said, (book ii. [chap. 6]) in the common process of vision we suppose ourselves to see that which cannot be seen; and when we would make a picture of an object, the difficulty is to represent what is visible and no more.
But perfect as is our habit of interpreting what we perceive, we could not interpret if we did not perceive. If the eye did not apprehend visible position, it could not infer actual position, which is collected from visible position as a consequence: if we did not see apparent figure, we could not arrive at any opinion concerning real form. The perception of place, which is the prerogative of the eye, is the basis of all its other superiority.
The precision with which the eye can judge of apparent position is remarkable. If we had before us two stars distant from each other by one-twentieth of the moon’s diameter, we could easily decide the apparent direction of the one from the other, as above or below, to the right or left. Yet eight millions of stars might be placed in the visible hemisphere of the sky at such distances from each other; and thus the eye would recognize the relative position in a portion of its range not greater than one eight-millionth of the whole. Such is the accuracy of the sense of vision in this [305] respect; and, indeed, we might with truth have stated it much higher. Our judgment of the position of distant objects in a landscape depends upon features far more minute than the magnitude we have here described.
As our object is to point out principally the differences of the senses, we do not dwell upon the delicacy with which we distinguish tints and shades, but proceed to another sense.
Sect. II.—Prerogatives of Hearing.
The sense of hearing has two remarkable prerogatives; it can perceive a definite and peculiar relation between certain tones, and it can clearly perceive two tones together; in both these circumstances it is distinguished from vision, and from the other senses.
4. Musical intervals.—We perceive that two tones have, or have not, certain definite relations to each other, which we call Concords: one sound is a Fifth, an Octave, &c., above the other. And when this is the case, our perception of the relation is extremely precise. It is easy to perceive when a fifth is out of tune by one-twentieth of a tone; that is, by one-seventieth of itself. To this there is nothing analogous in vision. Colours have certain vague relations to one another; they look well together, by contrast or by resemblance; but this is an indefinite, and in most cases a casual and variable feeling. The relation of complementary colours to one another, as of red to green, is somewhat more definite; but still, has nothing of the exactness and peculiarity which belongs to a musical concord. In the case of the two sounds, there is an exact point at which the relation obtains; when by altering one note we pass this point, the concord does not gradually fade away, but instantly becomes a discord; and if we go further still, we obtain another concord of quite a different character.