610 FRAGMENTS OF SCIENCE. 



would probably more than suffice for the destruction of the 

 brain by lightning, or even by a rifle-bullet. Before the 

 organ can arrange itself it may, therefore, be destroyed, 

 and in such a case we may safely conclude that death is 

 painless. 



The experiences of common life supply us with copious 

 instances of the liberation of vast stores of muscular power 

 by an infinitesimal "priming" of the muscles by the 

 nerves. We all know the effect produced on a " nervous" 

 organization by a slight sound which causes affright. An 

 aerial wave, the energy of which would not reach a minute 

 fraction of that necessary to raise the thousandth of a grain 

 through the thousandth of an inch, can throw the whole 

 human frame into a powerful mechanical spasm, followed 

 by violent respiration and palpitation. The eye, of course, 

 may be appealed to as well as the ear. Of this the lamented 

 Lunge gives the following vivid illustration: 



A merchant sits complacently in his easy-chair, not 

 knowing whether smoking, sleeping, newspaper reading, 

 or the digestion of food occupies the largest portion of his 

 personality. A servant enters the room with the telegram 

 bearing the words, "Antwerp, etc. . . . Jonas and Co. 

 have failed." " Tell James to harness the horses! " The 

 servant flies. .Up starts the merchant, wide awake; 

 makes a dozen paces through the room, descends to the 

 counting-house, dictates letters, and forwards despatches. 

 He jumps into his carriage, the horses snort, and their 

 driver is immediately at the bank, on the Bourse, and 

 among his commercial friends. Before an hour has elapsed 

 he is again at home, where he throws himself once more 

 into his easy-chair with a deep-drawn sigh, " Thank God 

 I am protected against the worst, and now for further 

 reflection." 



This complex mass of action, emotional, intellectual, 

 and mechanical, is evoked by the impact upon the retina 

 of the infinitesimal waves of light coming from a few 

 pencil marks on a bit of paper. We have, as Lunge 

 says, terror, hope, sensation, calculation, possible ruin, 

 and victory compressed into a moment. What caused 

 the merchant to spring out of his chair? The contrac- 

 tion of his muscles. What made his muscles contract? 

 An impulse of the nerves, which lifted the proper latch, 



