SOUND, A WEAKNESS. 65 



on a still evening, though the vibration of the bell 

 does not, at that distance, produce a motion of the 

 air that will bend the spider's most slender thread ; 

 and yet the same ear gives no notice of the ap- 

 proach of a bullet, by which it may be the next 

 instant dashed to pieces ; and the first notice 

 given, whether the bullet strikes, or passes near, 

 is a muscular impression, and " the wind of a 

 bullet" is a wind that blows, not a wind that sings. 

 It is much the same with noisy things as with 

 noisy people : they are always less effective in pro- 

 portion as the noise is louder. A deeply honey- 

 combed ball, which whistles as it flies, goes less 

 fleetly and directly to its mark, and does less exe- 

 cution, than one which speeds on in silence ; and, 

 in blasting rocks with gunpowder, it is the stifled 

 smouldering shots that do the execution. Thus 

 it would seem, even in inanimate things, that 

 sound is the wail of weakness, the crying, the 

 childishness of the creation, as it were. 



And it is worthy of remark, that our hearing 

 partakes more of the nature of a child, and must 

 be schooled more nearly like a child, than any of 

 our other faculties. In itself, it is indeed a child ; 

 an infant at the very commencement of life : it has 

 sensation, but it has neither knowledge nor the 

 means of getting any ; and unless it is first taught 

 out of the mouths of others, or schooled -by the co- 

 operation of the other senses, it never can reveal to 

 us the simplest fact. 



When, however, it is once educated, it can take 

 the lead of all the senses, and be foremost in the 

 career of knowledge. That is a very beautiful con- 

 firmation of the superiority of man to the other 

 animals, and of his reason, which is nothing 



