§ 12 The Vowel-flame
A flame of astonishing sensitiveness now burns before you. It issues from the single orifice of a steatite burner, and reaches a height of 24 inches. The slightest tap on a distant anvil reduces its height to 7 inches. When a bunch of keys is shaken the flame is violently agitated, and emits a loud roar. The dropping of a sixpence into a hand already containing coin, at a distance of 20 yards, knocks the flame down. It is not possible to walk across the floor without agitating the flame. The creaking of boots sets it in violent commotion. The crumpling, or tearing of paper, or the rustle of a silk dress, does the same. It is startled by the patter of a rain-drop. I hold a watch near the flame: nobody hears its ticks; but you all see their effect upon the flame. At every tick it falls and roars. The winding up of the watch also produces tumult. The twitter of a distant sparrow shakes the flame; the note of a cricket would do the same. A chirrup from a distance of 30 yards causes it to fall and roar. I repeat a passage from Spenser:
“Her ivory forehead full of bounty brave,
Like a broad table did itself dispread;
For love his lofty triumphs to engrave,
And write the battles of his great godhead.
All truth and goodness might therein be read,
For there their dwelling was, and when she spake,
Sweet words, like dropping honey she did shed;
And through the pearls and rubies softly brake
A silver sound, which heavenly music seemed to make.”
The flame selects from the sounds those to which it can respond. It notices some by the slightest nod, to others it bows more distinctly, to some its obeisance is very profound, while to many sounds it turns an entirely deaf ear.
In Fig. 136, this wonderful flame is represented. On chirruping to it, or on shaking a bunch of keys within a few yards of it, it falls to the size shown in Fig. 137, the whole length, a b, of the flame being suddenly abolished. The light at the same time is practically destroyed, a pale and almost non-luminous residue of it alone remaining. These figures are taken from photographs of the flame.
To distinguish it from the others I have called this the “vowel-flame,” because the different vowel-sounds affect it differently. A loud and sonorous U does not move the flame; on changing the sound to O, the flame quivers; when E is sounded, the flame is strongly affected. I utter the words boot, boat, and beat, in succession. To the first there is no response; to the second, the flame starts; by the third, is thrown into greater commotion; the sound Ah! is still more powerful. Did we not know the constitution of vowel-sounds this deportment would be an insoluble enigma. As it is, however, the flame illustrates the theory of vowel-sounds. It is most sensitive to sounds of high pitch; hence we should infer that the sound Ah! contains higher notes than the sound E; that E contains higher notes than O; and O higher notes than U. I need not say that this agrees perfectly with the analysis of Helmholtz.
This flame is peculiarly sensitive to the utterance of the letter S. A hiss contains the elements that most forcibly affect the flame. The gas issues from its burner with a hiss, and an external sound of this character is therefore exceedingly effective. From a metal box containing compressed air I allow a puff to escape; the flame instantly ducks down not by any transfer of air from the box to the flame, for the distance between both utterly excludes this idea—it is the sound that affects the flame. From the most distant part of the gallery my assistant permits the compressed air to issue in puffs from the box; at every puff the flame suddenly falls. The hiss of the issuing air at the one orifice precipitates the tumult of the flame at the other.
When a musical-box is placed on the table, and permitted to play, the flame behaves like a sentient and motor creature—bowing slightly to some tones, and courtesying deeply to others.