We really know far less about hearing than about sight. The eye is where we can get at it, to look inside, and to see how it works. But the ear, the inner ear that is, where the hearing is done, is set deep inside the head, in the midst of a solid bone, the hardest piece of bone in the whole body except the teeth. Nobody, therefore, really understands how we hear. We do know, however, that the ear is two different things. One part of it is the organ of hearing—I am speaking always of the inner ear—while another part, as I have already explained, is the organ of the sense of equilibrium, the feeling of direction and right-side-up-ness. But just how much of the ear goes for hearing, and how much for right-side-up-ness, and exactly how either part works, and especially just how we tell one sound from another, are things that are still left for somebody to find out. Nor do we know much more about smell. We We do, however, understand taste. At least we understand as much about it as we do about sight; for the two senses are much alike. There are four kinds of taste spots, scattered over the tongue and the inside of the mouth, mostly on the tongue. Each of these gets one kind of taste—salt, bitter, sour, or sweet. Oddly enough, different people have these four sorts bunched in different parts of the tongue, so that not all people taste the same thing in quite the same place. But you will say at once, we taste many things that are neither sweet, sour, salt, nor bitter; there must be many more than four tastes. There are not. What we commonly call tastes are really smells. We smell things that are in the mouth, and think we taste them. If you don’t believe this, simply hold your nose. It is an old trick to get somebody to close his nose tightly, and then while all sense of smell is thus Almost any of the senses can be fooled. Put your finger on you forehead; then move your head slowly from side to side so that the finger, held motionless, slides over the skin. Your muscular sense and your sense of equilibrium both testify that the head is moving and the finger is still. Yet you can’t make yourself believe it. It insists on feeling as if the head were still, and the finger moving. Or try the senses of heat and cold. Take three dishes, one of hot water, one of cold, and one of a mixture of the two that shall feel neither warm nor cold but tepid. Put the fingers of one hand in the hot water, and the fingers of the other hand in the cold water. Keep them there a minute; then put them both in the tepid water. The tepid water will feel hot to one hand and cold to the other. Really it isn’t either. Perhaps, too, you have Even the sense of touch, in general the most reliable of the senses, can be deceived. When you are fishing and get a bite, where do you feel it? Most fisherman feel the bite at the end of the line, as if their nerves actually ran the length of the rod and down the string to the hook! And when a ball player cracks out a long hit, I leave it to all boys, if he doesn’t feel the place in the bat where it hits the ball. Or to take a commoner example, when you touch your hair, where do you feel the touch? In the hair itself where there is no feeling at all, or in the scalp where it really is? Or once more, if you hold the point of your nose between two fingers you feel one nose; but if you cross the fingers, and then touch your nose between the crossed parts, then you feel two noses. Still on the whole, our senses are pretty reliable. The eleven different sorts of feeling spots in eye, tongue, and skin, that tell us about red, green, blue, heat, pressure, cold, pain, sweet, sour, bitter, or salt, and the ears and nose which we don’t know so much about, all these tell us, on the whole, the |