Throughout this chapter, great use is made of the function ascribed to "the efferent-activity." For instance, our author, in considering the question which has bulked rather largely in critical literature of late, what bearings morality has on Art, thus speaks:—
"Before Art can effeminate, it must become petty; before it can make us morbid, it must descend to gross realism. So long as Art keeps the sense-impressions on which it relies large and noble, and does not carry them into such grouped detail as to give precise cues to the efferent impulses, the question of morality has no relevancy to it. Its true purpose is then seen clear and full—that of habituating us to larger living by fragmentary exercises of the actualising-process on a scale more magnificent than the previous practical experiences. But, for this, the inflations of the personality must be general: the Art inspirations must be left broad and anonymous, to be allotted definitely hereafter in some way of conduct. The efferent-activity must preserve its own real reminiscences intact; Art, or what passes for it, cannot touch those without killing them. Nor can Art be saved from its own corruption but by timely periodical infusions of the Sublime."
Further on, there is a passage as to the province of the Comic in Art, which may he quoted:—
"Art always stirs the ultimate sense of the human fortune, by either pretending that the world is lighter, gayer, easier than it had before seemed, or by arousingly challenging us ourselves to be nobler, larger, gigantic, in facing its difficulties. In both these cases, though in different ways, what is vitally concerned is the efferent-activity..... The Comic seems to borrow in its own queer manner from both the realms just mentioned. It is true, it must not present the world as really gay and light, having the appearance of being wholly trivial—that—would give no comicality at all. On the other hand, its rough catastrophes must not fully challenge right sympathetic activity in us. This is saying, that while comicality apes seriousness, it must really be without permanent ill consequences. In fact, both the above Art-functions are in Humour essayed together, but are transposed in the fulfilling, and so are alike more-or-less nullified, though not before much gratification has been had. In Humour we have a burlesque appeal to the sense of human fortune, making of it nothing but fun; doing this by means of sheer blunder, stupidity, and miscarriage. The reason of the perennial popular charm of Humour is at once seen when this is remembered—it lies in comicality utterly resting the ordinary efferent-activity and relaxing the Brain of every sensory nervous co-ordination. Comedy, taken in the broad meaning, asks for its full success even moderate ugliness in the persons most concerned in it, with awkwardness of gesture, inexact speech, irrelevancy of doing. But this is exactly the same as the eye, ear, &c., only half-attending; the first rude infantile groupings of the sense-activities again become sufficient, easing all the laboured additions of the later acquired nervous co-ordinations; and further, in spite of a great bustle and pother,—for this there must be the show of,—there is nothing to be done but to sit still and behold. The easily-afforded energy which is stirred by the first cues of this make-believe, bubbles away in laughter; the man finding himself perfectly efficient without an effort, for all obligation of duty is given up. Is it wonderful that most men like it?"
Another quotation will describe what is classified by the author as the realm of the lightly amusing. He says:—
