Letters on Natural Magic; Addressed to Sir Walter Scott, Bart. David Sir Brewster
or accidental colour, just as when a musical string is vibrating, the ear hears at the same time its fundamental and its harmonic sounds.
If the prevailing light is white and very strong, the spectra which it produces are no longer black, but of various colours in succession. If we look at the sun, for example, when near the horizon, or when reflected from glass or water so as to moderate its brilliancy, and keep the eye upon it steadily for a few seconds, we shall see, even for hours afterwards, and whether the eyes are open or shut, a spectrum of the sun varying in its colours. At first, with the eye open, it is brownish-red with a sky-blue border, and when the eye is shut, it is green with a red border. The red becomes more brilliant, and the blue more vivid, till the impression is gradually worn off; but even when they become very faint, they may be revived by a gentle pressure on the eyeball.
Some eyes are more susceptible than others of these spectral impressions, and Mr. Boyle mentions an individual who continued for years to see the spectre of the sun when he looked upon bright objects. This fact appeared to Locke so interesting and inexplicable, that he consulted Sir Isaac Newton respecting its cause, and drew from him the following interesting account of a similar effect upon himself:—“The observation you mention in Mr. Boyle’s book of colours, I once made upon myself with the hazard of my eyes. The manner was this: I looked a very little while upon the sun in the looking-glass with my right eye, and then turned my eyes into a dark corner of my chamber, and winked, to observe the impression made, and the circles of colours which encompassed it, and how they decayed by degrees, and at last vanished. This I repeated a second and a third time. At the third time, when the phantasm of light and colours about it were almost vanished, intending my fancy upon them to see their last appearance, I found, to my amazement, that they began to return, and by little and little to become as lively and vivid as when I had newly looked upon the sun. But when I ceased to intend my face upon them, they vanished again. After this I found that as often as I went into the dark, and intended my mind upon them, as when a man looks earnestly to see anything which is difficult to be seen, I could make the phantasm return without looking any more upon the sun; and the oftener I made it return, the more easily I could make it return again. And at length, by repeating this without looking any more upon the sun, I made such an impression on my eye, that, if I looked upon the clouds, or a book, or any bright object, I saw upon it a round bright spot of light like the sun, and, which is still stranger, though I looked upon the sun with my right eye only, and not with my left, yet my fancy began to make an impression upon my left eye as well as upon my right. For if I shut my right eye, and looked upon a book or the clouds with my left eye, I could see the spectrum of the sun almost as plain as with my right eye, if I did but intend my fancy a little while upon it: for at first, if I shut my right eye, and looked with my left, the spectrum of the sun did not appear till I intended my fancy upon it; but by repeating, this appeared every time more easily. And now in a few hours’ time I had brought my eyes to such a pass, that I could look upon no bright object with either eye but I saw the sun before me, so that I durst neither write nor read; but to recover the use of my eyes, shut myself up in my chamber, made dark, for three days together, and used all means in my power to direct my imagination from the sun. For if I thought upon him, I presently saw his picture, though I was in the dark. But by keeping in the dark; and employing my mind about other things, I began, in three or four days, to have more use of my eyes again; and by forbearing to look upon bright objects, recovered them pretty well; though not so well but that, for some months after, the spectrums of the sun began to return as often as I began to meditate upon the phenomena, even though I lay in bed at midnight with my curtains drawn. But now I have been well for many years, though I am apt to think, if I durst venture my eyes, I could still make the phantasm return by the power of my fancy. This story I tell you, to let you understand, that in the observation related by Mr. Boyle, the man’s fancy probably concurred with the impression made by the sun’s light to produce that phantasm of the sun which he constantly saw in bright objects.”4
I am not aware of any effects that had the character of supernatural having been actually produced by the causes above described; but it is obvious, that if a living figure had been projected against the strong light which imprinted these durable spectra of the sun, which might really happen when the solar rays are reflected from water, and diffused by its ruffled surface, this figure would have necessarily accompanied all the luminous spectres which the fancy created. Even in ordinary lights, strange appearances may be produced by even transient impressions; and if I am not greatly mistaken, the case which I am about to mention is not only one which may occur, but which actually happened. A figure dressed in black, and mounted upon a white horse, was riding along, exposed to the bright rays of the sun, which, through a small opening in the clouds, was throwing its light only upon that part of the landscape. The black figure was projected against a white cloud, and the white horse shone with particular brilliancy by its contrast with the dark soil against which it was seen. A person interested in the arrival of such a stranger had been for some time following his movements with intense anxiety, but, upon his disappearance behind a wood, was surprised to observe the spectre of the mounted stranger in the form of a white rider upon a black steed, and this spectre was seen for some time in the sky, or upon any pale ground to which the eye was directed. Such an occurrence, especially if accompanied with a suitable combination of events, might, even in modern times, have formed a chapter in the history of the marvellous.
It is a curious circumstance, that when the image of an object is impressed upon the retina only for a few moments, the picture which is left is exactly of the same colour with the object. If we look, for example, at a window at some distance from the eye, and then transfer the eye quickly to the wall, we shall see it distinctly, but momentarily, with light panes and dark bars; but in a space of time incalculably short, this picture is succeeded by the spectral impression of the window, which will consist of black panes and white bars. The similar spectrum, or that of the same colour as the object, is finely seen in the experiment of forming luminous circles by whirling round a burning stick, in which case the circles are always red.
In virtue of this property of the eye, an object may be seen in many places at once; and we may even exhibit at the same instant the two opposite sides of the same object, or two pictures painted on the opposite sides of a piece of card. It was found by a French philosopher, M. D’Arcet, that the impression of light continued on the retina about the eighth part of a second after the luminous body was withdrawn, and upon this principle Dr. Paris has constructed the pretty little instrument called the Thaumatrope, or the Wonder-turner. It consists of a number of circular pieces of card, about two or three inches broad, which may be twirled round with great velocity by the application of the fore-finger and thumb of each hand to pieces of silk string attached to opposite points of their circumference. On each side of the circular piece of card is painted part of a picture, or a part of a figure, in such a manner that the two parts would form a group or a whole figure, if we could see both sides at once. Harlequin, for example, is painted on one side, and Columbine on the other, so that by twirling round the card the two are seen at the same time in their usual mode of combination. The body of a Turk is drawn on one side, and his head on the reverse, and by the rotation of the card the head is replaced upon his shoulders. The principle of this illusion may be extended to many other contrivances. Part of a sentence may be written on one side of a card, and the rest on the reverse. Particular letters may be given on one side, and others upon the other, or even halves or parts of each letter may be put upon each side, or all these contrivances may be combined, so that the sentiment which they express can be understood only when all the scattered parts are united by the revolution of the card.
As the revolving card is virtually transparent, so that bodies beyond it can be seen through it, the power of the illusion might be greatly extended by introducing into the picture other figures, either animate or inanimate. The setting sun, for example, might be introduced into a landscape; part of the flame of a fire might be seen to issue from the crater of a volcano, and cattle grazing in a field might make part of the revolutionary landscape. For such purposes, however, the form of the instrument would require to be completely changed, and the rotation should be effected round a standing axis by wheels and pinions, and a screen placed in front of the revolving plane with open compartments or apertures, through which the principal figures would appear. Had