The Expression of Emotion in Man and Animals [91]
effort is to draw human beings into mutual embrace."
We Europeans are so accustomed to kissing as a mark of affection, that it might be thought to be innate in mankind; but this is not the case. Steele was mistaken when he said "Nature was its author, and it began with the first courtship." Jemmy Button, the Fuegian, told me that this practice was unknown in his land. It is equally unknown with the New Zealanders, Tahitians, Papuans, Australians, Somals of Africa, and the Esquimaux." But it is so far innate or natural that it apparently depends on pleasure from close contact with a beloved person; and it is replaced in various parts of the world, by the rubbing of noses, as with the New Zealanders and Laplanders, by the rubbing or patting of the arms, breasts, or stomachs, or by one man striking his own face with the hands or feet of another. Perhaps the practice of blowing, as a mark of affection, on various parts of the body may depend on the same principle.[23]
The feelings which are called tender are difficult to analyse; they seem to be compounded of affection, joy, and especially of sympathy. These feelings are in themselves of a pleasurable nature, excepting when pity is too deep, or horror is aroused, as in hearing of a tortured man or animal. They are remarkable under our present point of view from so readily exciting the secretion of tears. Many a father and son have wept on meeting after a long separation, especially if the meeting has been unexpected. No doubt extreme joy by itself tends to act on the lacrymal glands; but on such occasions as the foregoing vague thoughts of the grief which would have been felt had the father and son never met, will probably have passed through their minds; and grief naturally leads to the secretion of tears. Thus on the return of Ulysses:--"Telemachus Rose, and clung weeping round his father's breast. There the pent grief rained o'er them, yearning thus. * * * * * * Thus piteously they wailed in sore unrest, And on their weepings had gone down the day, But that at last Telemachus found words to say." _Worsley's Translation of the Odyssey_, Book xvi. st. 27.
So again when Penelope at last recognized her husband:--
"Then from her eyelids the quick tears did start And she ran to him from her place, and threw Her arms about his neck, and a warm dew Of kisses poured upon him, and thus spake:" Book xxiii. st. 27.
[22] Sir J. Lubbock, `Prehistoric Times,' 2nd edit. 1869, p. 552, gives full authorities for these statements. The quotation from Steele is taken from this work.
[23] See a full acount,{sic} with references, by E. B. Tylor, `Researches into the Early History of Mankind,' 2nd edit. 1870, p. 51.
The vivid recollection of our former home, or of long-past happy days, readily causes the eyes to be suffused with tears; but here, again, the thought naturally occurs that these days will never return. In such cases we may be said to sympathize with ourselves in our present, in comparison with our former, state. Sympathy with the distresses of others, even with the imaginary distresses of a heroine in a pathetic story, for whom we feel no affection, readily excites tears. So does sympathy with the happiness of others, as with that of a lover, at last successful after many hard trials in a well-told tale.
Sympathy appears to constitute a separate or distinct emotion; and it is especially apt to excite the lacrymal glands. This holds good whether we give or receive sympathy. Every one must have noticed how readily children burst out crying if we pity them for some small hurt. With the melancholic insane, as Dr. Crichton Browne informs me, a kind word will often plunge them into unrestrained weeping. As soon as we express our pity for the grief of a friend, tears often come into our own eyes. The feeling of sympathy is commonly explained by assuming that, when we see or hear of suffering in another, the idea of suffering is called up so vividly in our own minds that we ourselves suffer. But this explanation
We Europeans are so accustomed to kissing as a mark of affection, that it might be thought to be innate in mankind; but this is not the case. Steele was mistaken when he said "Nature was its author, and it began with the first courtship." Jemmy Button, the Fuegian, told me that this practice was unknown in his land. It is equally unknown with the New Zealanders, Tahitians, Papuans, Australians, Somals of Africa, and the Esquimaux." But it is so far innate or natural that it apparently depends on pleasure from close contact with a beloved person; and it is replaced in various parts of the world, by the rubbing of noses, as with the New Zealanders and Laplanders, by the rubbing or patting of the arms, breasts, or stomachs, or by one man striking his own face with the hands or feet of another. Perhaps the practice of blowing, as a mark of affection, on various parts of the body may depend on the same principle.[23]
The feelings which are called tender are difficult to analyse; they seem to be compounded of affection, joy, and especially of sympathy. These feelings are in themselves of a pleasurable nature, excepting when pity is too deep, or horror is aroused, as in hearing of a tortured man or animal. They are remarkable under our present point of view from so readily exciting the secretion of tears. Many a father and son have wept on meeting after a long separation, especially if the meeting has been unexpected. No doubt extreme joy by itself tends to act on the lacrymal glands; but on such occasions as the foregoing vague thoughts of the grief which would have been felt had the father and son never met, will probably have passed through their minds; and grief naturally leads to the secretion of tears. Thus on the return of Ulysses:--"Telemachus Rose, and clung weeping round his father's breast. There the pent grief rained o'er them, yearning thus. * * * * * * Thus piteously they wailed in sore unrest, And on their weepings had gone down the day, But that at last Telemachus found words to say." _Worsley's Translation of the Odyssey_, Book xvi. st. 27.
So again when Penelope at last recognized her husband:--
"Then from her eyelids the quick tears did start And she ran to him from her place, and threw Her arms about his neck, and a warm dew Of kisses poured upon him, and thus spake:" Book xxiii. st. 27.
[22] Sir J. Lubbock, `Prehistoric Times,' 2nd edit. 1869, p. 552, gives full authorities for these statements. The quotation from Steele is taken from this work.
[23] See a full acount,{sic} with references, by E. B. Tylor, `Researches into the Early History of Mankind,' 2nd edit. 1870, p. 51.
The vivid recollection of our former home, or of long-past happy days, readily causes the eyes to be suffused with tears; but here, again, the thought naturally occurs that these days will never return. In such cases we may be said to sympathize with ourselves in our present, in comparison with our former, state. Sympathy with the distresses of others, even with the imaginary distresses of a heroine in a pathetic story, for whom we feel no affection, readily excites tears. So does sympathy with the happiness of others, as with that of a lover, at last successful after many hard trials in a well-told tale.
Sympathy appears to constitute a separate or distinct emotion; and it is especially apt to excite the lacrymal glands. This holds good whether we give or receive sympathy. Every one must have noticed how readily children burst out crying if we pity them for some small hurt. With the melancholic insane, as Dr. Crichton Browne informs me, a kind word will often plunge them into unrestrained weeping. As soon as we express our pity for the grief of a friend, tears often come into our own eyes. The feeling of sympathy is commonly explained by assuming that, when we see or hear of suffering in another, the idea of suffering is called up so vividly in our own minds that we ourselves suffer. But this explanation