THE SOUL OF MAN 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
THE BASE OF THE HUMAN BRAIN. 
 
THE SOUL OF MAN 
 
 INVESTIGATION OF THE FACTS 
 
 PHYSIOLOGICAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY 
 
 DR. PAUL 
 
 WITH 152 ILLUSTRATIONS AND DIAGRAMS 
 
 CHICAGO, ILL.: 
 
 THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING CO. 
 1891 
 
 I 6 
 
\-v\o 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 "\ JL 7"E all know the legend of the Sphinx, who on the mountain 
 path stops the wanderer on his way and proposes her 
 riddle. And the riddle which she proposes to you and to me and 
 to all mortal beings, is the same old world-problem, What is man ? 
 Whence does he come and whither does he go ? 
 
 What is more interesting to man than his own soul ! And what, 
 at the same time, is so mysterious, so wonderful, so marvellous ! 
 Our pleasures and pains, our loves and hatreds, our hopes and 
 fears, our longings, our aspirations and ideals, what is their mean- 
 ing and whither do they tend ? 
 
 For us the centre of the universe lies in our own mind. 
 Here, if anywhere, must be sought the key to the mysteries of the 
 cosmos. And the problem of the human soul is of most vital im- 
 portance ; for every practical work, every success in human life, 
 is a part of its solution. All progress, all evolution, all growth 
 means a development, an expanse, and an elevation of the human 
 mind. We cannot think of any improvement of economical, polit- 
 ical, social, scientific, or religious conditions that is not at the 
 same time an advance in the psychical life of man. 
 
 The psychological problem is the centre of philosophy. No 
 philosophy can evade it ; and vice versa, every presentation of the 
 psychological problem must contain at least in nuce a philosophy. 
 We cannot have a conception of the soul which is not, or does not 
 at least suggest, at the same time, a conception of the world. The 
 world-problem means to man the problem of the human soul. 
 
vi THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 But the importance of the problem of the soul is greater still. 
 It supplies the basis of ethics. The prosperity, the salvation, and 
 the health of the soul are the purpose of life ; they are the goal of 
 all our efforts ; they are the contents of ethics and religion. 
 * * * 
 
 In delivering this book to the public I feel urged to express 
 my deep indebtedness to Mr. Edward C. Hegeler, of La Salle, 
 Illinois. All the work I have been doing has become possible in 
 the way it has been done, solely through his assistance. It is 
 not so much that he has furnished the means by which The 
 Open Court and The Monist are supported, it is mainly the en- 
 thusiasm for a great cause, the discriminating intelligence and the 
 strength of conviction that have created the opportunity, the aim, 
 and the purpose for which I have been permitted to work. 
 
 Among all the ideas which have inspired Mr. Hegeler to un- 
 dertake a missionary work which is best characterized as a propa- 
 ganda for the Religion of Science, the most important one has 
 been his recognition of the soul as form. This idea found a sym- 
 pathetic echo in my mind ; it well agreed with my conception of 
 form and formal thought. Formal thought furnishes the key to 
 the comprehension of the world, because the forms of things are 
 that element which makes the things what they are ; and the laws 
 of form being the same in the forms of the objective world as well 
 as in the forms of subjective thought, are the bridge which over- 
 arches the apparent chasm that opens up between the cognizing 
 subject and the cognized object, between the soul and the universe. 
 The idea of form is not a mere speculative theory. Like all 
 theories that are correct, it is of eminently practical importance. 
 The practical importance of the conception of the soul as form 
 throws light upon all religious and ethical truths, and most so 
 upon the problem of life after death ; * indeed it yields a scientific 
 
 * The term "lifeairer death" being a positive expression seems to be 
 preferable to the negative term " immortality." The latter has the advantage 
 of being commonly accepted, but this advantage is intimately interwoven 
 with the disadvantage that the errors of the old view are attached to it. 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 explanation of the truth contained in the religious idea of immor- 
 tality which is the most powerful factor in the aspirations of our 
 
 race. 
 
 * * * 
 
 It is apparent that the ideal of a Religion of Science cannot 
 be realized before the problem of the human soul in its main 
 features at least has been solved by scientific inquiry on the 
 ground of the exact data of verified and verifiable facts. Many 
 diligent workers have labored and are still laboring in the field of 
 psychology, but the results of their labors have not as yet been 
 compared, critically sifted, and collected in one work. 
 
 If a work of this kind had. existed, the author would perhaps 
 never have ventured to write the present book. There are innumer- 
 able Psychologies, innumerable Physiologies, innumerable Anato- 
 mies, and floods of pamphlets discussing the many problems and 
 incidents of experimental psychology. But there is not one book 
 in any language as far as I know, in which all the facts of these 
 various branches of science are gathered and presented in their 
 connection. There is not one book in which the problem of the 
 human soul is treated scientifically in its philosophical, ethical, and 
 religious importance. A book of this kind is a want, which the 
 author has tried to fill. 
 
 Although the present book is in a certain sense a review of 
 the present state of investigation, it is not a mere compilation of 
 the labors of others. Not only is the method new in which the 
 subject-matter in its connection with philosophy and ethics is 
 presented, but also several important ideas and interpretations of 
 facts have been added by the author. Some of them will per- 
 haps readily find recognition. Others appear to be in conflict 
 with the most prominent living authorities ; thus, for instance, the 
 explanation of the nature of pleasure and pain (pp. 338-345). 
 Others still are hypotheses the value of which will depend mainly 
 upon the light that may be gained through future investigations. 
 Such are the theory concerning the seat of consciousness (pp. 194- 
 
viii THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 208) and the problem of sex-formation (pp. 234-237). As not the 
 least important feature of the book I consider its philosophical 
 foundation, which (if the author's views are sound) corroborate s 
 the unitary conception of the world, commonly called Monism, or, 
 more exactly expressed, Monistic Positivism. 
 
 The field of psychological problems is large, and the diffi- 
 culties of the subject are great. Yet the author has tried to pre- 
 sent the different topics with conciseness and with clearness. No 
 trouble has been spared in collecting and critically sifting the latest 
 results of anatomical and physiological investigations from the 
 highest authorities in this field of inquiry ; and pains have been 
 taken to reproduce from the best sources the most instructive illus- 
 trations of the various nervous tissues and cerebral organs for 
 the explanation of their action. 
 
 It is to be expected that this bock will not satisfy the expec- 
 tations of many, for two reasons. First because if a man possesses 
 prejudices, his prejudices will certainly be strongest with refer- 
 ence to the problem of the human soul. Differences of opinion 
 must be anticipated. Nevertheless, if this book does not present 
 the favorite ideas of some among my readers, they are kindly re- 
 minded that it is not my purpose to propound transcendental or 
 metaphysical speculations, but to arrange and systematize facts. 
 Whatever speculations a man may hold he must be aware that 
 speculations must never collide with facts ; and so the book will 
 perhaps after all be found to be useful. The second reason why the 
 book will not satisfy the expectations of many might be the insuffi- 
 ciency of the author to do full justice to so great an undertaking, 
 which demands not only extensive reading but also great accuracy 
 and precision of judgment. Wherever I have failed either in the 
 former or in the latter, either by not taking notice of important in- 
 vestigations of others or in judging wrongly concerning the im- 
 portance of the facts offered, I can only say in excuse that I have 
 endeavored to do my best. In magnis voluisse sat est. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 I. THE PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEM OF MIND. 
 
 1. Feeling and Motion i 
 
 2. Is the Soul a Mechanism ? 16 
 
 3. The Origin of Mind 23 
 
 i. What is Mind ? 23 
 
 ii. Subjective and Objective Exis.ence. ... 25 
 
 iii. How Feelings Acquire Meaning ? .... 27 
 
 iv. Subjectivity and Objectivity 29 
 
 v. The Projection of Objective Facts .... 30 
 
 vi. The Subject-Superstition and Agnosticism . 31 
 
 vii. The Objective Element in Subjective States . 35 
 
 viii. Hallucinations and Errors 37 
 
 ix. Facts and Reality. Truth and Mind ... 40 
 
 x. Telepathy 43 
 
 xi. Mind and Eternity 45 
 
 II. THE RISE OF ORGANIZED LIFE. 
 
 i . Vitalism and the Conservation of Energy 47 
 
 2 Organized and Non-organized Life 54 
 
 3. Memory and Organized Substance 60 
 
 4. Soul-Life of Animals and Plants 66 
 
 5. Feeling as a Physiological Prccess 76 
 
 III. PHYSIOLOGICAL FACTS OF BRAIN-ACTIVITY. 
 
 1. The Nervous System of Worms, Radiates, and Articu- 
 
 lates 85 
 
 2. Connecting Link between the Invertebrates and the 
 
 Vertebrates 94 
 
 3. Nervous System of Vertebrates 99 
 
 4. Development of the Brain 107 
 
 5. Spinal Cord 114 
 
 6. Medulla Oblongata 123 
 
THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 7. Cerebellum and Pons 130 
 
 8. The Thalamic Region of the Brain 137 
 
 9. The Hemispheric Region 148 
 
 10. The Cortex and its Relations 157 
 
 11. Localization of Brain- Activity 163 
 
 i. Fissures and Convolutions 163 
 
 ii. Motory and Sensory Centres ...... 169 
 
 iii. Loss of Brain-Substance 172 
 
 iv. The Centre of Language 173 
 
 v. Experiments upon Animals 186 
 
 vi. Meynert's three Systems of Projection and 
 
 Psychical Activity i8 
 
 vii. The Seat of Consciousness 194 
 
 viii. Consciousness and Intelligence 204 
 
 12. Comparative Physiology of the Brain 209 
 
 IV. THE IMMORTALITY OF THE RACE AND THE DATA 
 
 OF PROPAGATION. 
 Fecundation and the Problem of Sex-Formation . . . 2ir 
 
 V. THE INVESTIGATIONS OF EXPERIMENT L PSYCHOL- 
 
 OGY. 
 
 1. The Nature of Soul-Life 238 
 
 2. Central and Peripheral Soul-Life 249 
 
 3. Double Personality 258 
 
 4. What is Hypnotism ? 268 
 
 5. Lethargy, Catalepsy, and Somnambulism .... 279 
 
 6. The Reality of Dreams . . 281 
 
 7. Dreams and Hallucinations 292 
 
 8. Suggestion and Suggestibility . . . 300 
 
 9. The Co-ordination of Mental Activity 308 
 
 10. The Suggestibility of Crowds 314 
 
 Sentimental Arguments 319 
 
 Insinuation and Suggestion 321 
 
 11. Significance of Hypnotism 324 
 
 12. The Dangers of Hypnotism 332 
 
 VI. THE ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS ASPECTS OF SOUL- 
 
 "LIFE. 
 
 1. Pleasure and Pain 33$ 
 
 2. The Three Phases of Reflex-Motions 346 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. xi 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 3. The Nature of Thought 354 
 
 The Mechanism of Thought 358 
 
 4. The Rise of Consciousness 363 
 
 5. The Limitations of the Senses 370 
 
 6. The Basis of a Positive Philosophy 374 
 
 7. The Reaction Against Materialism 380 
 
 8. .Freedom of Will and Responsibility 389 
 
 9. Is Death a Finality ? 398 
 
 Death and Birth ' 398 
 
 Whence Came Death ? 404 
 
 The Ethics of Immortality 407 
 
 10. The Communism of Soul-Life 412 
 
 11. Soul Life and the Preservation of Form 418 
 
 12. The Old and the New Psychology ....... 425 
 
 13. The Psychological Problem and Religion ..... 429 
 
 14. The Soul of the Universe 437 
 
 VII. INDEX 447 
 
LIST OF CUTS AND DIAGRAMS. 
 
 NO. PAGE- 
 
 1 Frontispiece. The Base of the Human Brain. (Leuret 
 
 and Gratiolet). 
 
 2 An Amoeba. (Haeckel) 67 
 
 3 A Cell. (Haeckel) 68 
 
 4 Gastrula. (Haeckel) 69 
 
 5 Four Forms of a Hydra. (Haeckel) 69 
 
 6 Turbellaria. (Haeckel) 74 
 
 7 Nervous System of Man 75 
 
 8 Diagram Illustrating a Primitive Reflex Motion ... 85 
 
 9 The Primitive Brain of a Whirlworm. (Haeckel) . . 85 
 
 10 Nervous System of a Star- fish. (Leuret and Gratiolet) . 86 
 
 11 Nervous System of a Common Sandhopper. (Grant) . 87 
 
 12 Nervous System of a Fish-Louse. (Grant) 87 
 
 13 Nervous System of a Crab, (Milne Edwards) 87 
 
 14 Nervous System of a White Ant. (Gegenbauer, after 
 
 Lespes) 88 
 
 15 Nervous System of a Water Beetle. (Gegenbauer) . . 88 
 
 16 Nervous System of a Fly. (Gegenbauer, after Blanchard) 88 
 
 17 Nervous System of a Caterpillar. (Solly, after Newport) 89 
 
 18 Nervous System of a Chrysalis. (Solly, after Newport) 89 
 
 19 Nervous System of an Insect. (Solly, after Newport) . 89 
 
 20 Nervous System of a Great Green Grasshopper. (New- 
 
 port) . . " . 90 
 
 21 Nervous System of a Medical Leech. (Owen) .... 90 
 
 22 Nervous System of a Common Garden Snail. (Owen) . 91 
 
 23 Nervous System of an Oyster. (Todd, after Garner) . 91 
 
 24 Nervous System of a Common Slug. (Solly, after Baly) 91 
 
 25 ^Pearly Nautilus. (Leuret and Gratiolet, after Owen) . 92 
 
 26 Amphioxus Lanceolatus 94 
 
 27 Development of the Ascidian. (Haeckel) 96 
 
LIST OF CUTS AND DIAGRAMS. xiii 
 
 NO. PAGE. 
 
 28 Development of the Lanceolate. (Haeckel) .... 97 
 
 29 Brain of a Perch. (Gegenbauer, after Cuvier). . . . 101 
 
 30 Brain of a Pike. (Leuret and Gratiolet). .... .102 
 
 31 Brain of a Shark. (Leuret and Gratiolet) 102 
 
 32 Nervous System of a Frog. (Wiedersheim, after Ecker) 103 
 
 33 Brain of a Boa-constrictor. (Bastian, after Swan) . . ioj 
 
 34 Brain of a Cuckoo. (Leuret and Gratiolet) 104 
 
 35 Brain of an Owl. (Leuret and Gratiolet) 104 
 
 36 Brains of eocene Mammals. (Wiedersheim, after Marsh) 105 
 
 37 Brain of a Parrot. (Leuret and Gratiolet) 105 
 
 Brain of a Raven. (Leuret and Gratiolet) 105 
 
 38 Brain of a Bear. (Ranke) 106 
 
 39 Brain of a Gorilla. (Ranke) 106 
 
 40 Brain of a Man. (Ranke) 106 
 
 41 Early Stage of the Nervous System in the Differentiation 
 
 of the Embryo. (Wiedersheim) 107 
 
 42 Sagittal Sections Representing Five Stages of Cerebral 
 
 Development. (After Mivart) 108 
 
 43 Frontal Sections, Representing Three Stages of the 
 
 Fore-brain. (Wernicke) 108 
 
 44 Embryo of Mammal or Bird. (Haeckel) 109 
 
 45 Foetal Brain of a Chick. . (Mihalcovics) no 
 
 46 Coronal Section of the Foetal brain of a Mammal. (After 
 
 McAllister) no 
 
 47 Sagittal Median Section of Vertebrate brains, general 
 
 plan. (Edinger) in 
 
 48 Sagittal Median Brain Section of Gymnote. (Edinger) . in 
 
 49 Sagittal Median Brain Section of Teleost. (Edinger) . in 
 
 50 Sagittal Median Brain Section of Amphibia. (Edinger) . in 
 
 51 Sagittal Median Brain Section of Reptile. (Edinger) . 112 
 
 52 Sagittal Median Brain Section of Bird. (Edinger) . . 112 
 
 53 Sagittal Median Brain Section of Mammal. (Edinger) . 112 
 
 54 The Human Brain fully developed. Upper view. (Leuret 
 
 and Gratiolet) 113 
 
 55 The Human Brain, side view. (Leuret and Gratiolet) . 113 
 
 56 Nerve cells from spinal cord. (After Ramier) . . . .114 
 
 57 Spinal Cord, Cross Section. (After Deiters) . . . .115 
 
 58 Spinal Cord, Cross Section. (Reproduced from Charcot) 116 
 
 59 Spinal Cord -with anterior and posterior roots. (After 
 
 Edinger) 117 
 
xiv THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 NO. PAGE 
 
 60 The Mechanism of Pyramidal fibres. (Edinger after 
 
 Striimpell) 118 
 
 6 1 Severance of Spinal Cord. (Edinger after Striimpell) . 118 
 
 62 Pyramidal Bundles. (Edinger) 119 
 
 63 Cross sections of Spinal Cord. (After Erb) .... 120 
 
 64 Diagram of Pyramidal Bundles. (After Edinger) . . 120 
 
 65 Diagrams Representing Flechsig's Investigations . . .121 
 
 66 Spinal Cord, Transverse Section, After Lissauer. (Re- 
 
 produced from Edinger) 122 
 
 67 Nuclei of the Third and Fourth Nerves. (Edinger) . . 124 
 
 68 Diagram Representing the Reflex Mechanism of the Me- 
 
 dulla Oblongata 125 
 
 69 Medulla Oblongata. (Reproduced from Landois) . .126 
 
 70 Pigeon whose Cerebellum is removed. (Reproduced 
 
 from Encyclopaedia Britannica 131 
 
 71 Pigeon whose Hemispheres are removed. (Reproduced 
 
 from Encyclopaedia Britannica 131 
 
 72 Cerebellum. (After Sappey) . 132 
 
 73 Gray Matter of Cerebellum. (Sharpy after Sankey) . 133 
 
 74 Pons and its Relations 134 
 
 75 Cerebellum Superficial view ; dorsal side. (Edinger) . 135 
 
 76 Cerebellum Superficial view ; ventral side. (Edinger) . 136 
 
 77 Cerebellum Representing Stilling's investigations. (Edin- 
 
 ger) 136 
 
 78 Diagram showing the Relation of Cerebellum and Pons 
 
 to the thalamic Region 138 
 
 79 Section of Brain through Thalamus and Corpus Stria- 
 
 turn. (After Edinger) 140 
 
 80 The Thalamus and its Relations. (Edinger) .... 146 
 
 81 Sagittal Section of Third and Fourth Ventricles. (After 
 
 Reichert) 147 
 
 82 Corona Radiata and its Relations 149 
 
 83 Thalamus and its cortical connections. (Edinger) . . 150 
 
 84 Nucleus Caudatus. (Edinger) 150 
 
 85 Coronal Section. (Edinger) 151 
 
 86 Sagittal Median Section of Brain. (Reproduced from 
 
 McAllister) 152 
 
 87 First Horizontal Section. (After Henly) 153 
 
 88 Second Horizontal Section. (Edinger) 154 
 
 89 Third Horizontal Section 155 
 
LIST OF CUTS AND DIAGRAMS. xv 
 
 NO. PAGE. 
 
 go Cross- Section through Gyrus Hippocampi. (Edinger) . 156 
 
 91 Commissural Fibres of the Hemispheres. (Edinger) . 158 
 
 92 Sagittal Median Section of Brain. (Edinger) .... 159 
 
 93 Coronal Section through the Brain. (Edinger) . . .159 
 
 94 Fibrae Propriae. (Edinger) 159 
 
 95 Fibres of the Hemispheres. (After Huguenin) . . . 160 
 
 96 Section of Cortical Substance. (Edinger) 161 
 
 97 Phrenology. (After Gall) 165 
 
 98 The Left Hemisphere. (After Henle) 167 
 
 99 Side View of the Brain. (After Ecker) 167 
 
 100 Base of the Brain. (Reproduced from Edinger) . . . 168 
 
 101 Longitudinal Section of the Brain. (Reproduced from 
 
 Edinger) 168 
 
 102 Moior Regions of a Monkey's Brain. (After Ferrier) . 170 
 
 103 Dog's Brain. (After Munk) 171 
 
 104 Monkey's Brain. (After Munk) 171 
 
 105 Meynert's Representation of the Nervous System. (Re- 
 
 produced from Hermann) 190 
 
 106 Sagittal Section through the Brain of a Dog. (After 
 
 Wernicke) 199 
 
 107 Frontal Section of the Brain of a Monkey. (After Wer- 
 
 nicke) 200 
 
 108 Interior of the Hemisphere- Ventricle. (After Wernicke) 200 
 
 109 Diagrammatic View of the Frontal Section of a Brain. 
 
 After Huguenin. (Reproduced from Charcot) . . . 201 
 [io Diagrammatic Representation of the Fibres in the Cau- 
 date and Lenticular Bodies. (After Wernicke). . . 202 
 in Sagittal Section through the Brain of a Pig. (After 
 
 Wernicke) 203 
 
 112 Brain of a Sheep after Leuret. (Reproduced from Mey- 
 
 nert) 211 
 
 113 Brain of a Fox. (Reproduced from Meynert) . . . . 211 
 
 114 Brain of a Monkey. (Reproduced from Meynert) . . 212 
 
 115 Brain of Man. (Reproduced from Meynert) . . . .213 
 
 116 Brain of an Elephant. (Leuret and Gratiolet). . . . 214 
 
 117 Diagram showing the Growth of the Hemispheric Region 
 
 in Proportion to an Increase of Intelligence. (Repro- 
 duced from Landois) 216 
 
 118 Formation of Cells in S^igeoclonium Insigne. (Sachs) . 221 
 
 1 19 Conjugation of Spirogyra Longata. (Sachs) .... 222 
 
xvi THE SOUL OF MAN, 
 
 NO. PAGE. 
 
 120 Sexual reproduction of Fucus Vesiculosus. (Sachs) . . 224 
 ivji Fecundation of Egg of Holothurium. (Reproduced from 
 
 Ranke) 225 
 
 122 Graafian Follicle. (Reproduced from Ranke) .... 226 
 
 123 Egg of Star-fish. (Reproduced from Ranke) .... 227 
 
 124 Fecundation of the egg of a sea-urchin. (Reproduced 
 
 from Ranke) 231 
 
 125 Gastrula Formation of the Pond Snail. (Haeckel) . . 232 
 
 126 Gastrula Formation of the Arrow Worm. (Haeckel) . 232 
 
 127 Colonial Sea-nettle, Stem. (Haeckel) 240 
 
 128 Colonial Sea-nettle, Air bladder. (Haeckel) .... 240 
 
 129 Colonial Sea-nettle, Feeder. (Haeckel) 240 
 
 130 Colonial Sea-nettle, Prehensile Filament. (Haeckel) . 240 
 
 131 Colonial Sea-nettle, Shield. (Haeckel) .... . 241 
 
 132 Colonial Sea-nettle, Feeler. (Haeckel) 241 
 
 133 Colonial Sea-nettle, Propeller. (Haeckel) 241 
 
 134 Colonial Sea-nettle, Male Polyp. (Haeckel) .... 241 
 
 135 Colonial Sea-nettle, Female Polyp. (Haeckel) . . .241 
 
 136 Localization of certain functions to show their distribu- 
 
 tion. (After Exner) 245 
 
 137 Diagram Illustrating the grades of Hypnotism. (Author) 276 
 
 138 Diagram Illustrating the Mechanism of Vision. (Author) 282 
 
 139 Brain of a Dog. (Munk) 283 
 
 140 Brain of a Monkey. (Munk) ....... . 285 
 
 141 Diagram Illustrating the Nervous Mechanism of Speech. 
 
 (After Wernicke) 287 
 
 142 Diagram Showing the Mechanism of Somnambulism. 
 
 (Author) 305 
 
 143 D.'agram Illustrating the Normal and Abnormal Stages of 
 
 Consciousness in their Parallelism. (Author) . . . 306 
 
 144 Coronal Section Through Striped Body (foetal stage). 
 
 (Edinger) 311 
 
 145 Coronal Section Through the Human Brain. (Edinger) 312 
 
 146 Diagram of Simple Reflex Motion. (Author) .... 347 
 
 147 Diagram of Simple Reflex Action. (Author) .... 349 
 
 148 Diagram Showing an Act of Deliberation. (Author) . 349 
 
 149 Propagation of a Moner. (Haeckel) 399 
 
 150 Propagation of Amoeba Sphsero Coccus. (Haeckel) . . 400 
 
 151 Conjugation of Chilodon Cucullulus. (Haeckel) . . 402 
 
 152 Artificial Division of Stentor Coeruleus. (After Balbiani) 405 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. 
 
 IN physiological text-books there often occurs the 
 misleading expression "change of consciousness into 
 will" or of "feeling into motion." This appears to 
 suggest the interconvertibility of motion and feeling 
 and has prompted philosophers to propound mechan- 
 ical explanations of the origin of feeling. All these 
 explanations were failures, for the foundation upon 
 which they rested, namely, the interconvertibility of 
 motion and feeling is an error. Motion and feeling 
 are radically different in their nature. Motion can 
 never be transformed into feeling, nor can feeling 
 be transformed into motion. 
 
 Before we proceed let us note that feeling and mo- 
 tion, although quite different in their nature, are not 
 separate realms of existence. There are no feelings 
 that exist by themselves ; feelings are states that ac- 
 company certain motions. Says Ribot in his " Psy- 
 chology of Attention " : * 
 
 " . . . . The intermission in an apparent continuity alone 
 renders possible any long attention. If we keep one of our 
 eyes fixed upon any single point, after a while our vision becomes 
 confused ; a cloud is formed between the object and ourselves, 
 and finally we see nothing at all. If we lay our hand flat 
 upon a table, motionless, and without pressure (for pressure itself 
 is a movement), by slow degrees the sensation wears off, and finally 
 
 * English translation published by the Open Court Publishing Company, 
 P.i7- 
 
2 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 disappears. The reason is, that there is no perception without move- 
 ment t be it ever so "weak. Every sensorial organ is at the same 
 time both sensitive and motory. As soon as absolute immo- 
 bility eliminates one of the two elements (motility), the function of 
 the other after a while is rendered null. In a word, movement is 
 the condition of the change, which is one of the conditions of con- 
 sciousness. " 
 
 For the sake of clearness we shall distinguish be- 
 tween feeling and sensation. By sensation we under- 
 stand a process of nervous irritation which is perceived. 
 By feeling we understand the state of awareness only, 
 that accompanies the nervous commotion of a sensa- 
 tion. Sensation is a certain motion accompanied with 
 feeling. Feeling is that part of the sensation which is 
 no motion ; the word feeling signifies that intangible 
 something which, we trust, every animal being knows 
 from experience. Feeling is entirely different from 
 motion and can be expressed in terms of neither mat- 
 ter nor motion. Feeling is not material and it is not 
 mechanical, i. e., it is not motion. It constitutes 
 something sui generis. 
 
 By saying that feeling is neither material nor me- 
 chanical, we do not maintain that it exists by itself. 
 Feeling is real as much as are matter and motion. In 
 contradistinction to the objective reality of material 
 things, we may call it subjective reality. Its existence 
 is not proved by external activity but by the internal 
 state of awareness. Its reality accordingly is most 
 immediate and direct, so that it would be ridiculous to 
 doubt it. Indeed there have been philosophers who 
 doubted the existence of the material universe and its 
 mechanical action, yet these skeptics did not deny the 
 existence of feeling. 
 
 Professor Clifford in his excellent essay on the <Na- 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. 3 
 
 ture of Things ' in themselves, distinguishes between 
 object and eject. He says : 
 
 81 There is the external or objective order in which the sensa- 
 tion of letting go is followed by the sight of a falling object and the 
 sound of its fall. The objective order, qua order, is treated by 
 physical science which investigates the uniform relations of objects 
 in time and space. 
 
 " However remote the inference of physical science, the thing 
 inferred is always a part of me, a possible set of changes in any 
 consciousness bound up in the objective order with other known 
 changes." 
 
 The objective order is represented by physical 
 science as a system of motions that follow one another 
 according to strict laws. What now is an eject ? 
 Professor Clifford says : 
 
 ' ' There are, however, some inferences which are profoundly 
 different from those of physical science. When I come to the con- 
 clusion that you are conscious and that there are objects in your 
 consciousness similar to those in mine, I- am not inferring any 
 actual or possible feelings of my own, but your feelings, which are 
 not, and cannot, by any possibility become objects in my conscious- 
 ness. 
 
 " . . . . These inferred existences are in the very act of infer- 
 ence thrown otttoi my consciousness, recognized as outside of it as 
 not being apart of me. I propose, accordingly, to call these inferred 
 existences ejects, things thrown out of my consciousness to dis- 
 tinguish them from objects, things presented in my consciousness, 
 phenomena." 
 
 Let us represent the processes observable in the 
 objective world by Italic letters. What we call things 
 or occurrences are either simultaneous or success- 
 ive groups of A B C, R S T, etc. Among these 
 groups there is one I K L which is called our body \ 
 and some motions oil K L are accompanied with feel- 
 ings. Now for the sa^e of distinction let us represent 
 feelings with Greek letters. We find that certain I K L 
 
4 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 are accompanied by i n A.* A certain motion is ac- 
 companied by a corresponding feeling, so that as far 
 as certain activities of our body are concerned, there 
 appears a perfect parallelism. If we consider our 
 body as a mechanism, we find only motions and noth- 
 ing but motions. The chain I K L is uninterrupted. 
 If we consider ourselves as pure mind and nothing 
 but feeling, we find only states of consciousness and 
 nothing else. We find no motion. 
 
 Our fellow- men, and also animals, being endowed, 
 as we believe, with feeling, are, so far as we can ob- 
 serve, other bodies, and their lives represent such 
 chains as /' K 1 L 1 , I" K" L", etc., which, as we sup- 
 pose, are accompanied by z' H' A', i" H" A", etc. 
 These series of z' H' A', i" K" A", etc., are not di- 
 rectly observable. They are what Clifford calls "ejects." 
 
 If physiologists say that a change of motion into 
 feeling takes place, they can mean only that a certain 
 motion is transferred, which now is and now is not 
 accompanied with feeling. It is, however, a loose way 
 of speaking. Instead of saying : 
 
 HI K L M N 
 
 i H A 
 
 where H is the motion producing a sensory irritation 
 and M muscular motion, ^Vthe movement of an object 
 effected by muscular motion, IK L being accom- 
 panied by i H A, they say : 
 
 H i H A M N. 
 
 Thus they jump from one series into the other. 
 
 * The method of employing a series of Italic letters to express objective 
 realities, ajid a series of Greek letters to express subjective realities or feel- 
 ings, (AB C, R S T, representing objects, I K L our own bodies, t K /I states 
 of consciousness) was suggested to me by reading an article of Professor 
 Mach on the Analysis of Sensations. However, Professor Mach's application 
 is different. 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. 5 
 
 The method is incorrect and can be considered par- 
 donable only in so far as i H A appear to us for certain 
 purposes of much greater consequence than / K L. 
 The group I K L is called soul or mind only in so far 
 as it is accompanied with z % A. 
 
 The question now arises : How can we account for 
 the sudden appearance of feeling. It cannot be ex- 
 plained as a transformation of motion. The inter- 
 convertibility of motion and feeling must be rejected, 
 and Clifford, in contradistinction to all philosophers 
 who try to explain everything from matter and motion, 
 most emphatically declares : 
 
 "To say: 'Up to this point science can explain, here the 
 soul* steps in,' is not to say what is untrue, but to talk nonsense." 
 
 Clifford adds : 
 
 The question, " Is the mind * a force? " is to be condemned by 
 
 similar considerations Force is an abstraction relating to 
 
 objective facts .... and cannot possibly be the same thing as an 
 eject, another man's consciousness. 
 
 But the question, " Do the changes in a man's consciousness 
 run parallel with the changes of motion, and therefore with the 
 forces of his brain ? " is a real question and not prima facie non- 
 sense. 
 
 Clifford affirms this question. He maintains that 
 there is a correspondence between body and mind,* 
 as there is between a written and a spoken sentence. 
 There is a correspondence of element to element, 
 each written letter although quite a different thing 
 from a sound, corresponds to a certain sound. The 
 
 * Soul and mind are used here as a synonym of the sum total of feel- 
 ing or of consciousness, i. e., concentrated feeling. They represent the series 
 i K /I, i' K.' /I', i" a" A", etc. 
 
 Some understand by such words as soul, mind, etc., mere states of con- 
 sciousness i K "X, some the objective nerve structures and their functions I K L, 
 others still groups of facts consisting of both series IL K K L"X. It is apparent 
 that a difference in the usage of terms without further indication as to their 
 meaning, must be productive of great confusion. 
 
6 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 written sentence as well as the spoken sentence " are 
 
 built up together, in nearly the same way 
 
 The two complex products are as wholly unlike as 
 the elements are, but the manner of their complica- 
 tion is the same." 
 
 Now we know that certain motions are accompa- 
 nied by consciousness, and that others, so far as we 
 can see, are not. How can we account for the appear- 
 ance and disappearance of consciousness ? 
 
 We know that certain dim feelings become con- 
 scious by concentration. The mechanical process of 
 nerve activity gives us the key to this explanation, for 
 we have different degrees of feeling corresponding to 
 different degrees of intensity produced through a con- 
 centration of nerve activity. Consciousness rises from 
 simple feelings. But whence does feeling come? 
 
 Feelings must be considered as a complex of cer- 
 tain elements, which we call " the elements of feeling. " 
 The single letters i and n and A, and JA also p, 6, t are 
 elements of feeling. We have no right to assume that 
 they exist by themselves, but must suppose that they 
 accompany the elements of motion /, K, L, M, R, S, T, 
 etc. Certain combinations of the elements of feeling 
 produce actual feelings, just as certain combina- 
 tions of feelings produce consciousness. If the con- 
 centration of consciousness is destroyed or for the time 
 abolished, feelings may and under special conditions 
 (as, for instance, in sleep or in hypnotic states) will 
 continue. If a frog is decapitated the ganglions of 
 the medulla will for a considerable time continue to 
 feel. In like manner, if that combination which pro- 
 duces actual feeling is disturbed or destroyed, feel- 
 ing will disappear, but the elements of feeling will 
 continue. 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. 7 
 
 Unless we consider every act of feeling a special 
 creation of supernatural powers, a break in the conti- 
 nuity of nature, we are inevitably driven to the conclu- 
 sion that all series A B C, I K L, R S T, etc., etc., are 
 accompanied by a ft y, i K A, p ff r, etc, etc. All ele 
 ments of objective reality are inseparably united with 
 the corresponding elements of subjective reality, and 
 the latter are those facts which under special condi- 
 tions and in special combinations unite into feelings. 
 
 From the monistic standpoint we must look upon 
 nature as being endowed with the potentialities of 
 feelings. Every natural process we suppose to be 
 animated with the elementary germs of psychic life, 
 with that something of which our very simplest feel- 
 ings are exceedingly complex combinations. 
 
 Nature cannot be considered as a dead machinery; 
 it is alive throughout and every process of objective 
 activity must be supposed to be animated by the ele- 
 ments of that subjective phase of life which in the 
 human brain appears as consciousness. 
 
 Feeling, accordingly, is a special form of the ele- 
 ments of feeling, and the problem of the origin of feel- 
 ing from this standpoint is to be stated as follows : 
 
 What is the molecular combination, and what is 
 its mode of action that is accompanied by feeling ? 
 
 This question has not as yet been answered, and 
 physiology is very far still from solving the problem 
 satisfactorily in all its details. The most important 
 features only of the process are known, at least in 
 
 coarse outlines. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 The process taking place in the nervous system 
 may briefly be described thus : An impression of the 
 surrounding world affects the skin or one of the sense- 
 
8 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 organs of an animal organism, and produces a shock 
 upon the sensory nerve-fibres. This shock is trans- 
 mitted to the ganglion where it causes an action in 
 the gray nerve-cells ; this action of the ganglion is 
 further transmitted to the motor nerve and when it 
 reaches the end of the motor nerve a discharge takes 
 place which causes the muscle to contract, thus pro- 
 ducing muscular motion. Along the whole line from 
 the impression received to the muscular contractions 
 there is an uninterrupted chain of motions. 
 
 Physiological psychology, inaugurated by Fechner 
 and elaborated by many great scientists of all nation- 
 alities, is busy at work to measure the subtilest move- 
 ments of nerve-activity. Says George J. Romanes in 
 his Lecture, "Mind and Body" : 
 
 " If, by means of a suitable apparatus, a muscle is made to 
 record its own contraction, we find that during all the time it is in 
 contraction, it is undergoing a vibratory movement at the rate of 
 about nine pulsations per second. What is the meaning of this 
 movement ? The meaning is that the act of will in the brain, which 
 serves as a stimulus to the contraction of the muscle and is accom- 
 panied by a vibratory movement in the muscle, is accompanied by 
 a vibratory movement in the gray matter of the brain ; that this 
 movement is going on at the rate of nine pulsations per second ; 
 and that the muscle is giving a separate and distinct contraction in 
 response to every one of these nervous pulsations. . . . 
 
 A sensory nerve which at the surface of its expansion is able 
 to respond differently to differences of musical pitch, of tempera- 
 ture and even of color, is probably able to vibrate very much 
 more rapidly even than this [viz., one thousand beats per second]. 
 We are not, indeed, entitled to conclude that the nerves of special 
 sense vibrate in actual unison, or synchronize, with these external 
 sources of stimulation ; but we are, I think, bound to conclude that 
 they must vibrate in some numerical proportion to them (else we 
 should not perceive objective differences in sound, temperature, or 
 color) .... there is a constant ratio between the amount of agita- 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. 9 
 
 tion produced in a sensory nerve and the intensity of the corre- 
 sponding sensation . . . ." 
 
 So far as we can observe a process of nerve-activity, 
 there is no change of motion into feeling and of feeling 
 back into motion. There is no such break in the chain 
 of mechanical causes and effects. Yet in a certain part 
 of the chain of mechanical causation, the motions are 
 accompanied by feelings ; and we have sufficient rea- 
 sons to believe that the place where motions are ac- 
 companied by feelings is the ganglion. 
 
 We return once more to Prof. Clifford. We fol- 
 lowed his arguments and adopted his conclusions ex- 
 cept the very last inference he makes. Prof. Clifford 
 concludes his essay with the following consideration. 
 He says : 
 
 "That element of which, as we have seen, even the simplest 
 feeling is a complex, I shall call mind stuff" 
 
 Clifford solves the question in the following manner : 
 
 " As ihe physical configuration of my cerebral image of the 
 object 
 
 " Is to the physical configuration of the object, 
 
 "So is my perception of the object (the object regarded as 
 complex of my feelings) 
 
 " To the thing in itself." 
 
 Clifford sums up his doctrine : 
 
 " The universe, then, consists entirely of mind-stuff. . . 
 
 " Matter is a mental picture in which mind-stuff is the thing 
 represented. 
 
 "Reason, intelligence, and volition, are properties of a com- 
 plex which is made up of elements themselves not rational, not 
 intelligent, not conscious." 
 
 Clifford in speaking of similar views propounded 
 by Kant, Wundt, and Tyndall, says in an adjoined 
 note : 
 
 "The question is one in which it is peculiarly difficult to 
 make out precisely what another man means, and even what one 
 means oneself." 
 
io THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The conclusion of Clifford's arguments that the 
 universe consists entirely of mind-stuff, I must con- 
 fess, appears to me very abrupt and I cannot admit it. 
 Although in accord with all the rest, I cannot follow 
 Clifford to the end. It may be that I fail "to make 
 out precisely " what he means, but if allowed to make 
 a conclusion of my own in close connection with his 
 reasoning as above described, I would say : 
 
 The thing in itself is the inner, i. e., subjective 
 reality, which appears (so as to become perceptible) 
 as motions or outer, i. e. objective, reality. * 
 
 The following may be added by way of explanation : 
 The world is as it is, one indivisible whole. All its ob- 
 jective reality is throughout combined with subjective 
 reality. The objective reality we call matter, and its ac- 
 tivity motions. The subjective reality we call elements 
 of feeling; and the compounds resulting therefrom are 
 actual feelings and consciousness. It is this subjec- 
 tive reality alone which Clifford denned as "mind- 
 stuff,'! and when speaking of the universe as it really 
 exists, he improperly limits its reality to mind-stuff, 
 as if the objective reality, which is represented in our 
 brains by what we call motions, were a mere illusion. 
 It is true, as Clifford says, that "matter is a mental 
 picture"; but it is not true that it represents "mind- 
 stuff." Matter is no mere mental picture ; it repre- 
 sents a certain feature of reality, viz., all that can af- 
 fect sensibility. The term 'matter' is the most gen- 
 eral abstract of its kind and cannot be expressed in 
 terms of "mind-stuff," for it represents a certain set 
 of experiences which Clifford has purposely excluded 
 from his conception "mind-stuff." 
 
 . * Clifford uses " thing in itself" in a peculiar yet quite legitimate sense, 
 and here we follow Clifford. 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. n 
 
 Man's method of understanding the processes of 
 nature is that of abstraction. We confine our atten- 
 tion to that feature alone which is to be investigated 
 and we eliminate in our thought the others. Thus, when 
 enquiring into the laws of mathematics, we confine our 
 attention to the mere form of space, and deal with 
 non- material points, lines, planes, and solids. These 
 non-material points, lines, planes, and solids are not 
 untrue (as Mill imagined), but they represent one ab- 
 stract feature only which can never be found by itself. 
 The same is true of all our concepts. Every concept 
 is formed for some purpose, and every concept by 
 serving one purpose necessarily becomes one-sided. 
 It leaves out of sight those features of the object 
 represented which do not range within the scope of 
 its purpose. We may invent names intended to cover 
 the whole reality, subjective as well as objective, but 
 these names will become inappropriate as soon as em- 
 ployed for some other purpose. 
 
 If I consider an object, I may inquire into the ma- 
 terial of which it consists, or into the body's form, or 
 its motions. For instance, a chemist making a spec- 
 trum analysis of the sun, leaves out of sight the size of 
 the sun, its shape and motion. He confines his at- 
 tention to the rays, the undulations of which appear 
 in the spectrum as colors and lines. The Frauenhofer 
 lines indicate the material of the incandescent body 
 which emits the rays. An astronomer, however, in- 
 vestigating, its shape, say, he wants to know whether 
 it is a perfect sphere or flattened at the poles 
 does not care about the substances of which the sun 
 consists. And supposing he investigates the sun's 
 motion in its relation to the milky way, he disregards 
 entirely substance and form, he treats the sun as if it 
 
12 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 were a mathematical point All these treatments have 
 in common the method of abstraction. The astron- 
 omer in his calculation of the motion of the sun must 
 not, and certainly he does not, think that the sun is a 
 mathematical point, although this conception fits into 
 his calculation and remains correct so far as the pur- 
 pose of his abstraction is concerned. Accordingly, 
 for every abstraction we have made, we must bear in 
 mind two things : i) the purpose it has to serve ; and 
 2) that the totality of things from which abstractions 
 can be made, is one indivisible whole. In short we 
 must not forget that abstractions are only one-sided 
 views of things. 
 
 Not only abstractions but every single word is made 
 for a certain purpose. In reality objects have no 
 separate existence ; they exist in a constant flux, and 
 the full and exhaustive comprehension of one object 
 would include a comprehension of the whole universe. 
 If this be true at all, it is most true of ourselves. The 
 human soul is nothing more nor less than a certain ac- 
 tion of the universe upon one part of the universe and 
 the reaction following thereupon.* 
 
 There are philosophers who are greatly disappointed 
 about what they consider a deficiency of our intellect ; 
 viz., that we cannot view the whole at once in all its de- 
 tails. The relativity of knowledge has unnecessarily 
 been lamented. There is as little occasion for disap- 
 pointment in this feature of cognition as in the fact 
 that our vision must always depend upon the stand- 
 
 * See "Fundamental Problems," p. 147: "Knowledge becomes possible 
 only when we fix certain percepts and give their relative stability. ..... It is 
 
 as if we sat in an express train and were looking at the landscape flitting by 
 us. The picture taken as a whole swims indistinctly before our eyes. If we 
 wish to get a clear idea of the situation, we must allow the eye to rest on some 
 one object, neglecting the others," etc.; and p. 149: "In reality the whole 
 world is a part of our being," etc. 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. 13 
 
 point from which we view things, and that if we look at 
 a thing from one side, we cannot at the same time look 
 at it from the other. Why, let us be patient and look 
 at things first from this and then from the other side. 
 But we must not imagine that the one side only is 
 true reality, the noumenal part of nature, the Ding an. 
 sitfi, and the other is a mere illusion. Nor must we 
 declare that both are illusions, and that true reality is 
 something unknowable between both. Reality is every- 
 thing that is or can become object of experience ; both 
 abstracts accordingly represent something that is real. 
 Reality is not in the one, if considered alone and by 
 itself, nor in the other if considered alone and by it- 
 self, but in the entire whole. The one as well as the 
 other is a part of reality. 
 
 We can under no circumstances suppress or elimi- 
 nate either mind (elements of feeling) or matter. Nor 
 can we express the one in the terms of the other, 
 for the simple reason, that each concept is an entirely 
 different abstract containing nothing of the other. 
 Nevertheless both are parts of, and are abstracted 
 from, reality. What we call motion represents cer- 
 tain features of our experience. Whatever motions 
 may be in the conception of beings organized other- 
 wise than we are, our motion experiences remain 
 marks representative of real processes of some kind; 
 and feelings are certainly no less actual than motions. 
 
 We may represent motion or we may represent 
 mind as the basis of the world or we may conceive 
 them as being on equal terms. 
 
 (1) On the one hand, motion may be conceived as 
 the objective realization (a kind of revelation) in 
 which the activity of the elements of feeling appears. 
 
 (2) On the other hand, motion may be conceived 
 
I 4 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 as the substratum which carries the more ethereal ele- 
 ments of feeling. 
 
 (3) If neither matter nor motion is to be consid- 
 ered the one as the basis of the other, reality, as it 
 exists in itself, may be conceived as a great interacting 
 something, in which the effects of all the surrounding 
 parts upon one special part, an atom or a monad, in 
 so far as this part is concerned, appear as what 
 we have defined as an element of feeling ; while the 
 effects of this special part, of every atom or monad 
 upon the rest, in so far as the totality is concerned, 
 appear as motion. 
 
 It is indifferent which view we take. All three 
 conceptions are fundamentally the same, although if 
 worked out they would show a difference in terminology 
 that must let them appear as contradictory systems. 
 Upon the whole I should give preference to the third 
 conception as being least one-sided and most une- 
 quivocal in representing the Oneness of all reality. 
 
 Matter and mind (the elements of feeling) are to 
 be considered as one not the same, but one. They 
 are as inseparable as are the two sides of a sheet of 
 paper. If we look at it from the mind side, its activity 
 represents itself as elements of feeling and all kinds 
 and degrees of actual feelings. If we look at it from 
 the matter side, its activity represents itself as mo- 
 tions, or as all kinds of potential and kinetic energy. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 There is one point which needs further elucidation 
 at least in a few words. Clifford says : 
 
 " Reason, intelligence, and volition are properties of a complex 
 which is made up of elements themselves not rational, not intel- 
 ligent, not conscious." 
 
 This is true ; for we arrive at the conclusion that 
 
FEELING AND MOTION. 15 
 
 the not-feeling elements of feeling develop into feeling 
 and the not-rational monad develops into rational man. 
 Yet we must at the same time emphasize that the for- 
 mal laws according to which these not-feeling, not- 
 rational elements combine into higher structures en- 
 dowed with feeling and reason, are also a part of real- 
 ity. The formal laws which are the raison d'etre of 
 all cosmic order, are omnipresent in every particle 
 that exists ; and we can learn to understand that noth- 
 ing will stir, or change, or be, unless it be in conform- 
 ity to the law of causation which is the law of change, 
 and to the laws of form in general.* 
 
 The world it is true is not rational in its elements ; 
 but the laws of the world are the prototype of ration- 
 ality itself. Human reason and all wisdom of any 
 possible rational being develops from these conditions 
 and remains in accordance with the formal laws of 
 the cosmos. Human reason is conformity to, it is an 
 expression of the order of, the All. The order of the 
 All contains the possibility of developing reason. We 
 have perhaps a right to call the elements of reality 
 not-rational, but we commit a grave mistake when 
 calling the All irrational. For the elements of being 
 contain the origin and condition of all reason. Rea- 
 son ceases to be reason as soon as it does not agree 
 with reality. 
 
 * See the chapter " Form and Formal Thought " in Fundamental Prob 
 terns, p. 26. 
 
IS THE SOUL A MECHANISM? 
 
 THE question has often been proposed, Is Man a 
 Machine, and more especially is the Human Soul a 
 Mechanism ? If we understand by soul not the feel- 
 ing that accompanies certain physiological processes 
 of the brain, but the physiological activity of the brain 
 itself, there can be no doubt that every thought repre- 
 sented by the motion of this cur that cerebral structure, 
 every wish that irritates these or those ganglionic mo- 
 tor cells, whether the wish be suppressed or not, every 
 act of will which not being suppressed by stronger in- 
 hibitory impulses passes into motion in short all the 
 innumerable motions of brain-activity take place 
 strictly in agreement with mechanical principles. Cer- 
 tain motions are accompanied with feelings, while 
 others are not accompanied with feelings (only with 
 elements of feelings). Feeling, however, is not the 
 product of a force ; it is not manufactured out of energy ; 
 its appearance does not depend upon the disappear- 
 ance of a portion of motion ; it does not rise in ex- 
 change for motion. 
 
 Leibnitz says : 
 
 " We are constrained to confess that perception and whatever 
 depends upon it, are inexplainable upon mechanical principles ; 
 that is by reference to forms and movements. If we could imagine 
 a machine the operations of which would manufacture thoughts, 
 feelings, and perceptions, and could think of it as enlarged in all 
 
SS THE SOUL A MECHANISM. 17 
 
 its proportions, so that we could go into it as into a mill, even then 
 we would find in it nothing but particles jostling each other, and 
 never anything by which perception could be explained." 
 
 Locke expresses a similar idea : 
 
 " Body, as far as we can conceive, being able only to strike 
 and affect body ; and motion, according to the utmost reach of our 
 ideas, being able to produce nothing but motion, so that when we 
 allow it to produce pleasure or pain, or the idea of color or sound, 
 we are fain to quit our reason, go beyond our ideas, and attribute 
 it wholly to the good pleasure of our maker." 
 
 Accordingly, if by soul we understand feelings, 
 perceptions, and states of consciousness, we cannot 
 say that man's soul is a mechanism. But feelings, 
 perceptions, and states of consciousness do not exist 
 of themselves. They represent one certain side of a 
 process only, the other side being a certain physiolog- 
 ical activity ; and although there is no sense in speak- 
 ing of the mechanism of a feeling, there is sense in 
 speaking of the mechanism of the physiological process 
 which subjectively considered appears as a feeling. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 The soul has often been compared to a piano, but 
 the simile is inappropriate because it does not explain 
 the most important thing, viz., the mechanism of its 
 functions. Mr. Spencer, accordingly, welcomes the 
 comparison of the soul to a piano as an evidence of 
 the inscrutability of psychical processes. He says : 
 
 ' ' Ideas are like the successive chords and cadences brought 
 out from a piano, which successively die away as other ones are 
 sounded. And it would be as proper to say that these passing 
 chords and cadences thereafter exist in the piano, as it is proper 
 to say that passing ideas thereafter exist in the brain. In the one 
 case as in the other, the actual existence is the structure which 
 
 under like conditions again evolves like combinations The 
 
 existence in the subject of any other ideas than those which are 
 passing, is pure hypothesis Absolutely without evidence whatever." 
 
1 8 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Dr. Henry Maudsley who quotes this passage in 
 his " Physiology of Mind," p. 70, adds : 
 
 " This analogy, when we look into it, seems more captivating, 
 than it is complete. What about the performer in the case of the 
 piano and in case of the brain respectively ? Is not the performer 
 a not undmportant element, and necessary to the completeness of 
 the analogy ? The passing chords and cadences would have small 
 chance of being brought out by the piano if they were not pre- 
 viously in his mind. Where, then, in the brain is the equivalent 
 of the harmonic conceptions in the performer's mind ? If Mr. 
 Spencer supposes that the individual's mind, his spiritual entity, 
 is detached from the brain, and plays upon its nervous plexuses, 
 as the performer plays upon the piano, his analogy is complete ; 
 but if not, then he has furnished an analogy which those who do 
 take that view may well thank him for. There is this difference 
 between the passing chords and cadences of the piano and the 
 passing chords and cadences in the brain and it is of the essence 
 of the matter that, in the former case, the chords and cadences 
 do pass and leave no trace of themselves behind in the structure of 
 the piano ; while, in the latter case, they do not pass or die away 
 without leaving most important after-effects in the structure of the 
 brain ; whence does arise in due time a considerable difference 
 between a cultivated piano and a cultivated human brain, and 
 whence probably have arisen, in the progress of development 
 through the ages, the differences between the brain of a primeval 
 savage and the brain of Mr. Spencer .... With the brain, func- 
 tion makes faculty ; not so with the piano. " 
 
 If you put to me, the question for instance: How 
 much is five times five ? I shall answer Twenty-five. 
 The physiological process which represents in my 
 brain the act of perceiving the question and answering 
 it, is perfectly mechanical. There is a memory struc- 
 ture which when innervated says, "Five times five is 
 twenty-five." If any one asks, " How much is five 
 times five ? " it is this question which as soon as it is 
 perceived, innervates the memory structure "five 
 times five is twenty-five " ; and possibly it awakens 
 many other memories associated therewith. I may 
 
SS THE SOUL A MECHANISM. 19 
 
 think of the teacher who first taught me arithmetic ; 
 or the picture of my multiplication table may appear 
 before my eyes. The answer "five times five is twenty- 
 five" is under ordinary circumstances accompanied 
 with feeling or consciousness. 
 
 Not every instance is so simple. There are of 
 course mental processes that are much more compli- 
 cated, but there is not one in which the motions that 
 take place in the brain can be thought of as being not 
 strictly in accordance with mechanical laws either mole- 
 cular or molar. The poet's fictions, no less than the 
 schemes of the inventor, are strictly regulated by the 
 
 mechanics and statics of mind-activity. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 There is a peculiar feature in soul-life which con- 
 sists in the limitation of consciousness. Similarly as 
 in vision only one object at a time can be in the cen- 
 tral field of vision, viz., in the yellow spot where vision 
 is most intense, so in consciousness one idea only, 
 one combination of ideas, one perception, or a thought 
 concerning a perception, one aim, or one activity can 
 at one time fill this centre of mental life. When 
 several ideas are awakened, that which at the time is 
 strongest will attain a state of consciousness. As soon 
 as it has been attended to, it naturally loses its in- 
 terest, and another idea, that in the mean time has 
 become the strongest will follow. A combination of 
 both may take place and thus new thoughts, discover- 
 ies, inventions, ideals, may grow from such beginnings. 
 
 Dr. Montgomery in a criticism of the work done 
 by The Open Court,* introduces the term "hyperme- 
 chanical" in order to explain the selective faculty 
 represented by the piano player. The term is not ad- 
 
 * See Nos. 156 and 157 of The V)pen Court. 
 
20 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 missible because that "selective faculty" so-called is 
 perfectly mechanical. The chief progress modern psy- 
 chology has made, is, that it is no more in need of what 
 Dr. Montgomery calls "the selective faculty of hyper- 
 mechanical impulses." 
 
 * 
 * # 
 
 The view that motions produce nothing but motion 
 while feelings sometimes accompany certain motions, 
 should not be conceived in any dual sense. Feelings 
 and motions run parallel to each other, and where we 
 do not meet with actual feelings we suppose the pres- 
 ence of the elements of feeling. But this parallelism 
 would be most wonderful indeed if it were a true paral- 
 lelism consisting of two different and distinct lines. 
 The simplest conception of the case is the monistic 
 view, which considers the parallelism as an identity. 
 Both motion and feeling are abstract conceptions. A 
 motion exists of itself no more than a feeling. The 
 reality from which the ideas motion and feeling have 
 been abstracted is one inseparable whole, which if 
 viewed as an objective process appears as motion, and 
 if viewed from the subjective side appears as feeling. 
 Feelings can only be felt, not seen ; but if we could 
 see them, we might observe the elements of feeling 
 wherever motion takes place. 
 
 Fechner seems to have hit the mark, when he com- 
 pared feeling and motion to the inside and the outside 
 curves of a circle ; they are entirely different and yet 
 the same. The inside curve is concave, the outside 
 curve is convex. If we construct rules relating first 
 to the concave inside and then to the convex outside, 
 we shall notice a parallelism in the formulas ; yet this 
 parallelism will appear only in the abstractions which 
 have been made of one and the same thing from a dif- 
 
SS THE SOUL A MECHANISM. 21 
 
 ferent aspect. It results from making two different 
 abstractions. The abstract conceptions form two par- 
 allel systems, but the real thing can be represented as 
 parallel only in the sense that it is parallel to itself ; 
 it is the parallelism of identity. There is but one line, 
 and this one line is concave if viewed from the inside, 
 if viewed from the outside convex. 
 
 The elements of feeling do not by simple addition 
 make up actual feelings, but by appearing in certain 
 relations. But the intensities as well as the qualities 
 of feelings depend upon special conditions, and the 
 proportions between perceptions and their respective 
 irritations have within certain limits been measured 
 with great exactness. 
 
 Weber found that in most cases the quantity of 
 sensation is proportional to the logarithm of the quan- 
 tity of irritation. Thus an irritation expressed by 10 
 corresponds to a sensation expressed by i. The ir- 
 ritation 100 would not give 10 x i, but only 2 ; viz., the 
 logarithm of 100. The increase in the quantity of sen- 
 sation can be represented by a curve, the abscissas of 
 which are the gradually increasing irritations, while 
 the values of the sensations are found in the ordinates. 
 The perceptible increment of sensation depends also 
 upon the relative quantity of the increase of the irrita- 
 tion; and the measurement of this "perceptible incre- 
 ment, " asWeber calls it, has been a most fruitful method 
 for the formulation of the laws of psycho-physics. 
 
 The value of sensations under certain conditions 
 reaches zero. If the value of the irritation becomes 
 equal to i, the sensation reaches what Weber calls the 
 threshold of perception. On and below the thresh- 
 old of perception, sensation ceases, i. e., it is no more 
 noticeable, its value is zero. 
 
22 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Psychophysics was founded by Weber, to whom 
 the idea had been suggested by Herbart's proposition 
 to treat psychological phenomena according to mathe- 
 matical methods, so that we should acquire the data 
 for comprehending the statics and mechanics of men- 
 tal operations. Weber's method has been perfected 
 by Fechner, Volkmann, Appel, and many other inves- 
 tigators. While Weber's law that the perceptible in- 
 crement of sensation is proportional to the quantity of 
 irritation had to be restricted to certain limits, from 
 which the greatest and the smallest intensities are ex- 
 cluded, and while many conclusions derived from psy- 
 chophysical experiments may have been erroneous, or 
 at least mixed up with errors ; the whole science of 
 psychophysics was fully justified in many respects. 
 The very exceptions that offered themselves were in 
 the end found to be the strongest corroborations of 
 the soundness of Weber's law as well as his methods.* 
 
 * See Vortrcige tiler Psychophysik von Dr. E. Mach. Oesterreichische Zeit- 
 schrift filr praktische Heilkunde. 1863. 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 
 
 I. WHAT IS MIND ? 
 
 WE must distinguish between two kinds of facts ; 
 viz., given facts or data, and deduced facts or infer- 
 ences. With regard to the facts of soul-life we recog- 
 nise that the former class, that of given facts, neces- 
 sarily consists of states of consciousness only ; they 
 are feelings of any description, varying greatly in their 
 nature. They are different in the rhythmical forms of 
 their vibrations, in their intensity, and in their distinct- 
 ness. The latter class, that of inferences, is deduced 
 from the former, and serves no other purpose than 
 that of explanation. This class is mostly representa- 
 tive of external facts, and knowledge of external facts 
 exists only in so far as external facts are represented 
 in deduced facts. What a thinking being would call 
 external facts is nothing but the contents of certain 
 deduced facts. 
 
 Deduced facts, and among them the conception of 
 external facts (wherever they exist), have been pro- 
 duced by the effort of accounting for given facts viz., 
 the elementary data of consciousness and their rela- 
 tions. Deduced facts are the interpretation of given 
 facts. They are, so to say, conjectures concerning 
 their causes as well as their interconnections. 
 
 The organised totality of deduced facts, as it is 
 developed in feeling substance, is called mind. Feel- 
 
24 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ings are the condition of mind. From feelings alone 
 mind can grow. But there is a difference between feel- 
 ings and mind. Feelings develop into mind, they grow 
 to be mind by being interpreted, by becoming repre- 
 sentative. Representative feelings are mind. Ac- 
 cordingly, we characterise mind as the representative- 
 ness of feelings. 
 
 Although deduced facts are an interpretation of 
 given facts, this "interpretation" is not expressly 
 designed. These inferences from given facts are not 
 invented with a premeditated purpose ; they are not 
 constructed with foresight or intention. Deduced facts 
 grow naturally and spontaneously from given facts, 
 which are the elements of sense-activity. There is 
 not an agent that oversees their fabrication ; there is 
 not a devising "subject" that surmises the existence 
 of external facts and thus matures their conception 
 into deduced facts. Deduced facts are rather the nat- 
 ural product of a certain, group of given facts. De- 
 duced facts issue from a co-operation of a number of 
 feelings. They are the result of an organisation of 
 certain repeated sense-impressions which produce a 
 disposition not only to receive sense-impressions of 
 the same kind, but also to react upon them in a certain 
 way. Mind is not the factor that organised the given 
 facts of mere sense-impressions so that they became 
 representations. There was no rriind as long as feel- 
 ings remained unorganised. Feelings acquire mean- 
 ing ; and as soon as they have acquired meaning they 
 are what we call "deduced facts," representations 
 especially representations of external facts. Deduced 
 facts are the elements of mind ; and mind is not their 
 root, but their fruit. 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 25 
 
 II. SUBJECTIVE AND OBJECTIVE EXISTENCE. 
 
 The whole domain of mind-activity (i. e., of the rep- 
 resentativeness of feelings) is called subjective ; while 
 the totality of all facts that are represented in the 
 mind is called objective. Subjective existence consists 
 of feelings and of states of consciousness; objective 
 existence is represented as things that are in motion. 
 Motion and feeling are quite different things, yet in 
 spite of their radical difference experience teaches us 
 that both spheres are intimately interwoven. Subjec- 
 tive existence constantly draws upon objective exist- 
 ence. Not only do states of consciousness exist as 
 they are by virtue merely of the objects represented, 
 but also that group of facts called our body, the ac- 
 tion of which appears in a constant connection with 
 and as a condition of our consciousness, is kept in 
 running order only through a constant renewal of its 
 waste products out of the resources of objective ex- 
 istence. 
 
 We distinguish between our body and external 
 facts ; but the boundary between both provinces is 
 not distinct. There is constantly an exchange of sub- 
 stance taking place, proving that our body is in kind 
 not different from the substance of which external facts 
 consist. It must be regarded as a group of the same 
 kind as external facts, existing in a constant interac- 
 tion with and among the external facts. In other 
 words, the body of the thinking subject is an object 
 in the objective world. 
 
 Concerning the subjective sphere of existence we 
 recognise that consciousness does not act uninterrupt- 
 edly; there are moments when consciousness is lost. If 
 
26 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 they are normal, we call them sleep ; if they are abnor- 
 mal, swoons or trances. Former conscious states can 
 be revived ; they form a chain of memories which is 
 very limited in comparison with the extension of the 
 objective world. There is a time in the past beyond 
 which our memory does not reach. Moreover we 
 have reason to believe, that there will be a time when 
 the chain of conscious states will be broken forever. 
 This consummation is called death. In short the sub- 
 jective world is transient ; it grows by degrees ; its 
 existence is very precarious ; it flickers like a candle 
 in the wind and will disappear again. The objective 
 world however is eternal, it is indestructible. Ex- 
 perience teaches that it constantly undergoes changes, 
 but that in its totality it is imperishable. 
 
 The objective world is in a certain sense a part of 
 the subject. In another sense, we must say that the 
 subject is a part of the objective world. Indeed these 
 two sentences represent the same truth, only viewed 
 from two standpoints. The subjective world being 
 transient and the objective world being eternal, the 
 question presents itself, "How does the subject orig- 
 inate in or among the objects of the objective world ? " 
 
 The problem is complicated and we must approach 
 it step by step. First, we are inevitably driven to 
 the conclusion, that the subjective world of feelings 
 forms an inseparable whole together with a special 
 combination of certain facts of the objective world, 
 namely our body. It originates with this combination, 
 and disappears as soon as that combination breaks to 
 pieces. And, secondly, we must assume that the con- 
 ditions for building up such material dispositions as 
 have the power of developing the subjectivity of con- 
 sciousness are an intrinsic quality of the objective 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 27 
 
 world. Subjectivity cannot originate out of nothing ; 
 it must be conceived as the product of a co-operation 
 of certain elements which are present in the objective 
 world. In other words, the elements of the subjective 
 world are features that we must suppose to be insepar- 
 ably united with the elements of the objective world, 
 which are represented in our mind as motions. This 
 leads to the conclusion that feeling has to be considered 
 not as a simple but as a complex phenomenon. Feel- 
 ings as explained in the first chapter, originate through 
 a combination of elements of feeling ; and the presence 
 of the elements of feeling must be supposed to be an 
 intrinsic property of the objective world. The ob- 
 jective elements, the action of which is accompanied 
 with the elements of feeling, arrange themselves, we 
 suppose, into such combinations as display actual feel- 
 ings, in exact agreement with the laws of molar and 
 molecular mechanics. This, we must assume, takes 
 place with the same spontaneity as, for instance, an 
 acid and a base combine into a salt. To use another 
 example, it takes place with the same necessity as, 
 under special conditions, a certain amount of molar 
 motion is transformed into the molecular motion of 
 ether-waves, called electricity. Motions are not trans- 
 formed into feelings, but certain motions (all being 
 separately accompanied with elements of feeling), 
 when co-operating in a special form, are accompanied 
 in that form with actual feelings. 
 
 III. HOW FEELINGS ACQUIRE MEANING. 
 
 There is a certain class of philosophers who look 
 upon feeling as an incidental effect, as a fortuitous by- 
 play of the interacting elements of matter. This con- 
 
28 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ception has little if anything in its favor. On the con- 
 trary, if the elements of feeling are throughout in- 
 separably connected with the elements of objective ex- 
 istence, it must appear natural that wherever the con- 
 ditions fitted for organised life appear, irritable sub- 
 stance will originate. We may fairly assume that feel- 
 ing will arise on the cooled surface of a planet with 
 the same necessity as, for instance, a collision between 
 non-luminous celestial bodies will cause them to blaze 
 forth in the brilliant light of a nebula containing all 
 the elements for the production in the course of ages 
 of a planetary system. 
 
 Wherever a combination of substances originates 
 that displays the quality of feeling, it will form a basis 
 for given facts of soul-life. Feeling substance having 
 been exposed to a special stimulus, or having per- 
 formed a certain function, has thereby undergone a 
 rearrangement in its molecular parts. The structure 
 has suffered a change in its configuration, the form 
 of which is preserved in the general flux of matter, 
 and there is thus produced in the feeling substance 
 a disposition to respond more quickly to impressions 
 of the same kind. The feeling accompanying a subse- 
 quent impression of the same nature is coincidently felt 
 to be a revival of a former feeling, similar or the same 
 in kind. In other words, feeling substance, preserving 
 the forms of its functions, is possessed with memory.* 
 The preservation of form in a function which is ac- 
 companied with feeling makes it possible that the feel- 
 ing accompanying a special form of function will be- 
 come a mark of signification. By being felt to be the 
 
 * Memory is no mysterious power ; it is the preservation of form in feeling 
 organisms. See Ewald Hering's treatise on Memory, English translation in 
 Nos. 6 and 7 of The Open Court. Compare also the author's article Soul-life 
 and the Preservation of Form, in this book, 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 29 
 
 same in kind as a former feeling it will come to denote 
 a certain condition of feeling tissues. A feeling that is 
 felt to be the same as or similar in kind to a former 
 feeling, the revival or memory of which it causes, is 
 in this way endowed with meaning ; by which we un- 
 derstand the awareness of the congruence or similarity 
 of two or several feelings. Thus in the lapse of time, 
 by constantly renewed experience, one special feeling, 
 whenever repeated, will naturally become the indica- 
 tor showing the presence of certain external facts that 
 cause it. An isolated feeling is naturally meaningless ; 
 yet through a preservation of form, viz., through 
 memory, it is by repetition necessarily changed into a 
 symbol of representative value. 
 
 Feelings, accordingly, in the course of time, neces- 
 sarily acquire meaning ; they naturally and spontane- 
 ously develop mind. They can as little avoid co- 
 ordinating into a mental organism, as water at a low 
 temperature can escape congealing into ice ; or as a 
 seed can keep from sprouting when it is exposed, with 
 sufficient moisture, to the light. Mind, accordingly, 
 is the necessary outcome of a combination of feelings. 
 It is as necessary an effect of special causes, as, for 
 example, a triangle is the product of a combination 
 of three lines. The first step in the organisation of 
 feeling, which will throughout remain the determining 
 feature of its development, is the fact that with the 
 help of memory the different sets of feeling acquire 
 meaning, and in this way the mere feelings are trans- 
 formed from given facts into deduced facts. 
 
 IV. SUBJECTIVITY AND OBJECTIVITY. 
 
 The nature of given facts is subjectivity, while the 
 character of inferred facts is objectivity. The latter 
 
3 o THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 having grown out of the former will nevertheless, so 
 far as they are states of consciousness, always remain 
 subjective ; yet they contain representations of that 
 which is delineated by certain given facts. Thus they 
 contain an element which stamps upon them the nature 
 of objectivity. They represent objects, the existence 
 of which the feeling subject cannot help assuming, 
 because this is the simplest way of indicating certain 
 changes that are not caused within the realm of its 
 own subjectivity. 
 
 Objectivity, accordingly, does not mean absolute 
 objectivity. Objectivity means subjective states, i. e, 
 given facts or feelings representative of outside facts, 
 i. e., of facts that are not subjective, but objective. 
 
 9 
 
 V. THE PROJECTION OF OBJECTIVE FACTS. 
 
 The sense-impression of a white rectangle covered 
 with little black characters is a given fact ; yet the 
 aspect of a sheet of paper is an inferred fact. The 
 former is a subjective state within ; the latter is the 
 representation of an objective thing without. The 
 process of representing is a function of the subject, but 
 the fact represented is projected as it were into the 
 objective world, where experience has taught us to ex- 
 pect it. And the practice of projection grows so natur- 
 ally by inherited adaptation and repeated experience 
 that the thing represented appears to us to be external. 
 We no longer feel a sensation as a state of conscious- 
 ness but conceive it as an independent reality. 
 
 The practice of projecting subjective sensations into 
 the outside world is not an act of careless inference, 
 but the inevitable result of a natural law. This natural 
 law is that of the "economy of labor." When a blind 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 31 
 
 man has undergone a successful operation, he will first 
 have the consciousness of vague color-sensations taking 
 place in his eye. Experience will teach him the 
 meaning of these color-sensations and his motions will 
 inform him where to find the corresponding outside 
 facts. His consciousness will more and more be con- 
 centrated upon the meaning of the sensations. The 
 less difficulty he has in arriving at their proper inter- 
 pretation, the more unconscious his sense-activity will 
 become and at length consciousness will be habitually 
 attached to the result of the sensation alone, i. e., to 
 its interpretation. 
 
 In the same way, every one who learns to play an 
 instrument will first feel that part only which his hand 
 touches. By and by, however, he will acquire a con- 
 sciousness of the effects produced by the slightest 
 touch. Constant practice forms in the brain of an ex- 
 pert certain living structures which are correspondent 
 to the action of the instrument and represent it with 
 great accuracy. Whenever these structures are stimu- 
 lated, the action of the instrument is felt to take place. 
 In this way consciousness is projected into the work 
 performed by the instrument. The touch of the hand 
 has become purely automatic, and the operator now 
 feels the full effects of his manipulation although he 
 is not in direct contact with all the parts of his instru- 
 ment. The instrument becomes as if alive under his 
 treatment, he feels it as a part of himself ; for its action 
 stands en rapport with his brain-activity. 
 
 VI. THE SUBJECT-SUPERSTITION AND AGNOSTICISM. 
 
 States of consciousness, collectively considered, 
 have been termed "subject," and we have also em- 
 
32 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ployed the phrase "subjective world." But we must 
 not forget the fact, that the adoption of the name 
 "subject" is based upon a misconception. Subject 
 means " that which underlies," and the subject was 
 supposed to be that something which formed the basis 
 of all the states of consciousness present in any one spe- 
 cial case in you or in me, or in any person like you 
 and me. The subject was considered as a being that 
 was in possession of sense-impressions, of feelings, of 
 thoughts, of intentions, etc. ; and the existence of this 
 subject was proved by Descartes's famous syllogism 
 Co git o ergo sum. The subject was supposed to produce 
 the states of consciousness, while in fact (as we have 
 explained above) it is exactly the opposite. Feelings 
 change into mind, they produce the subject which 
 thinks. The subject is nothing underlying but rather 
 overlying. It is the growth out of and upon feelings. 
 It is the sum of many feelings in a state of organisation. 
 
 The fallacy of Descartes's dictum has been pointed 
 out by Kant. The existence of states of consciousness, 
 or the fact cogito, does not prove the existence of some- 
 thing that underlies the states of consciousness. It 
 simply proves the existence of feelings and thoughts. 
 There are certain sense-impressions, there are percep- 
 tions, there are ideas. Ideas develop from percep- 
 tions, and perceptions develop from sense-impressions. 
 States of consciousness are nothing but the awareness 
 or the feeling that is connected with certain percep- 
 tions and ideas. 
 
 Descartes's subjectivism is a transitory phase lead- 
 ing from the authoritative objectivism of the middle 
 ages to the critical objectivism of modern times. The 
 authoritative philosophy of the Schoolmen yielded to 
 the arbitrary philosophy of metaphysical subjectivity, 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 33 
 
 commencing as a matter of principle with doubt, in- 
 stead of commencing with positive data, and establish- 
 ing anarchy through lack of any objective method of 
 arriving at truth. The reaction against the arbitrary 
 authority of scholasticism was indispensable to fur- 
 ther progress. But we must not rest satisfied with its 
 negative result. We cannot commence a business 
 without capital and without making a start. So we 
 cannot begin philosophy with nothing. Knowledge is 
 not possible without positive facts to serve as a basis 
 to stand upon. 
 
 The negative features of Descartes's philosophy 
 naturally found their ultimate completion in agnosti- 
 cism. The assumption of the existence of a subject 
 led to the doctrine, that this subject is unknowable. 
 Moreover, the assumption of something that underlies 
 the acts of thought leads to the assumption of some- 
 thing that underlies objective existence, and thus it be- 
 gets the theory of things in themselves. This theory 
 involves us in innumerable contradictions and thus it 
 ends ultimately in the proposition that things in them- 
 selves are unknowable. 
 
 There are few who know the historical meaning of 
 agnosticism ; but those who can survey philosophical 
 thought in its evolution, its growth, and decay, know 
 that agnosticism means failure in philosophy. The 
 word is a foreign-sounding name for "knownothing- 
 ism," denoting a half-concealed confession of bank- 
 ruptcy. The philosophy of the future, in order to es- 
 cape from the fatal consequences of agnosticism, has 
 to discard the subject-superstition inherited from Des- 
 cartes. Descartes was a great thinker, a star of first 
 magnitude in the realm of thought, but it is time that, 
 without returning to the authoritative philosophy of 
 
34 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the Schoolmen, we should free ourselves from the 
 errors of his one-sided subjectivism. 
 
 Let us not forget, that all subjective states contain 
 an objective element. Objectivity is no chimera, and 
 we are very well enabled to establish the truth or un- 
 truth of objective facts. The philosophy of the future, 
 accordingly, will be a philosophy of facts, it will be 
 positivism ; and in so far as a unitary systematisation 
 of facts is the aim and ideal of all science, it will be 
 MONISM. 
 
 From the standpoint of positivism, the subject, in 
 the old sense, does not exist, and things in themselves 
 do not exist either. Their existence is an unwar- 
 ranted assumption, a superstition of philosophy, and 
 we can retain the word subject only on the condition 
 of a complete change of its meaning. The word sub- 
 ject, accordingly, (which has acquired a place in phil- 
 osophical language and is for several purposes quite 
 an appropriate expression,) must be corrected so as 
 to mean, not an underlying substratum, nor an agent 
 which does the thinking, but simply a collective term 
 designating a certain group of sense-impressions, per- 
 ceptions, ideas, and volitions. These sense-impres- 
 sions, perceptions, ideas, and volitions, which form, 
 simultaneously as well as successively, the elements of 
 soul-life, carrying consciousness upon the waves of 
 many subconscious states, make up the reality of the 
 subject ; they are the facts of its existence, and it is 
 the states of consciousness only, not an underlying 
 something, the existence of which is beyond all doubt. 
 They form the basis of all knowledge. 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 35 
 
 VII. THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT IN SUBJECTIVE STATES. 
 
 We must bear in mind that states of feeling are 
 not empty feelings, but always feelings of a certain 
 kind. There is no consciousness pure and simple, but 
 only consciousness of a certain state. Let us suppose, 
 for instance, the consciousness of a certain pressure. 
 What is it but a feeling of being pressed in a cer- 
 tain direction and with a certain intensity ? If a cer- 
 tain pressure is resisted, the feeling indicates a state 
 of active reaction against pressure, and experience 
 teaches by comparison with other pressures how much 
 counterpressure is necessary to resist or overcome it. 
 
 Among the states of consciousness there are ac- 
 cordingly some that represent an awareness of receiving 
 impressions, and there are others of making impres- 
 sions. There are some feelings of a passive nature, 
 which are felt to be produced by impacts from a some- 
 thing that is not the subject, and there are other feel- 
 ings of an active nature, which are felt to produce 
 effects on something that is not the subject. This 
 something that is not the subject is called "object." 
 It is represented as lying outside the subject, although 
 the latter stands in a close and inseparable relation to 
 the object, which, so far as this relation is considered, 
 forms a part of the subject. A given subjective state 
 possesses a definite form ; it exists as it is on account 
 of the object only ; for its form has been produced by 
 its relation to the object, and it represents this relation. 
 The object, therefore, is no unimportant part of, and 
 indeed is an essential element in, the constitution of 
 the subjective state. 
 
 Idealist philosophers are apt to say that the sub- 
 
36 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ject alone is known to us, while the existence of the 
 object must forever remain a vague hypothesis. This, 
 however, is incorrect. It involves an unjustifiable dep- 
 recation of the objective element in the given facts 
 of conscious states, and is based on a misconception 
 of the entire state of things. The data of knowledge 
 are not mere subjective states, they are relations be- 
 tween subject and object. Neither the subject is given, 
 nor the object ; but an interaction between subject and 
 object. From this interaction we derive by a very 
 complicated process of abstraction both concepts, the 
 subject as well as the object. It is true that the sub- 
 jective world of feelings and of representative feeling 
 is very different from the objective world of things. 
 Nevertheless they are one. The subject together with 
 all objects forms one inseparable whole of subject- 
 object-ness. 
 
 Every special object, accordingly, must be con- 
 ceived as a part of this inseparable whole of the All ; 
 it is a certain set of facts, represented in a certain 
 group of experiences, and is to be described as that 
 something which in a special way affects the subject 
 and can again in a special way be reacted upon by the 
 subject. 
 
 Here we have the clue for the proper meaning 
 of objectivity. What is a piece of lead but something 
 that at a definite distance from the centre of the earth 
 exerts a certain pressure proportionate to its mass ; 
 that is seen to become liquid at a certain tempera- 
 ture; etc., etc.? If it is treated in a particular way, 
 it will be observed to suffer certain changes. What 
 lead is has been established by experience ; i. e., by 
 systematic observation through sense-impressions. 
 
 From this standpoint the differences between the 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 37 
 
 schools of idealism and realism appear as antiquated. 
 The questions whether matter is real, whether objects 
 exist, and whether there is any reality at all, have lost 
 their meaning. That which produces effects upon the 
 subject and against which the subject does or can re- 
 act, is called object. The sense-effects produced by 
 the object upon the subject, and also the reactions of 
 the subject upon the object, are realities ; and every 
 name of a special object signifies a certain group of 
 such effects and their respective reactions. Thus, for 
 instance, the word lead comprises a certain set of ex- 
 periences that have always been found combined with 
 certain whitish objects. 
 
 Some philosophers have denied not only the ex- 
 istence of objects, but also the reality of space. What 
 is space but a certain group of experiences ? The con- 
 ception of space originates by moving and by being 
 moved about. The conception of space is the con- 
 sciousness that by moving, or by being moved, a change 
 is effected ; that is, a certain object serving as a point 
 of reference is either approached or left at a greater 
 distance. The acts of approach or withdrawal are as 
 much realities as are any other acts of the subject. Dis- 
 cussions concerning the reality of space accordingly 
 become mere verbal quibbles as soon as we under- 
 stand by space the condition common to all motion- 
 experiences. 
 
 VIII. HALLUCINATIONS AND ERRORS. 
 
 The mental state in which through contact with 
 external facts one or several of the senses are affected 
 so as to produce a direct awareness of their pres- 
 ence, is called perception. .The effects of external 
 
38 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 facts upon the sense of touch appear as different forms 
 of resistance. To the other senses they appear as 
 odors, tastes, sounds, and images. All these sensa- 
 tions are so many subjective methods of representing 
 certain objective processes. Perceptions represent im- 
 mediate reality because the objects perceived, i. e., the 
 objects represented by an image in the eye, a taste on 
 the tongue, etc., are in an immediate contact with 
 our senses. The feeling subject is directly conscious 
 of their existence by their present effects. They are 
 our Anschauung, i. e., the living presence of objective 
 reality. 
 
 Besides this living presence of objective reality, of 
 which our immediate surroundings consist, besides 
 our Anschauung , man is in possession of more gen- 
 eral representations, which comprise all the memories 
 of a certain class of percepts. We call them con- 
 cepts. Man alone through the mechanism of word- 
 symbols has been able to form concepts. Abstract 
 reasoning as well as scientific thought will grow with 
 the assistance of concepts in the course of a higher 
 development. 
 
 The higher we rise in the evolution of representa- 
 tive feelings, i. e., in the development of mind, the 
 more numerous are ike opportunities for going astray. 
 A scientific hypothesis, if erroneous, is more sweeping 
 in its fallacies than a single hallucination, which is a 
 misinterpretation merely of certain feelings. The sub- 
 jective part of an hallucination, namely the feeling 
 itself, is real ; but the objective part, the representa- 
 tive element of the feeling, is not real ; that which it 
 is supposed to mean, does not exist. The interpreta- 
 tion of the feeling is erroneous in an hallucination. 
 
 Hallucinations are possible, and in the more ab- 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 39 
 
 stract domains of mental activity errors are possible 
 also ; and will be ever more frequent. Nevertheless 
 the reality of outside facts in the sense stated above 
 can as little be doubted as the reality of immediate 
 perception ; and all the facts established by science, if 
 they are but true, are as much realities as is the re- 
 sistance of the table to the pressure of my hand or 
 the perception of the sheet of paper by my eye. 
 
 Facts established by science are those observations 
 which are made with all the necessary exactness as 
 well as completeness from certain groups of expe- 
 riences, and formulated with precision. The theory 
 of atoms, for instance, is true in so far as all elements 
 combine in certain proportions, which shows that the 
 ultimate particles of which the elements consist are 
 of a definite mass. Atoms, if the word is understood 
 in this sense, are realities. The theory of atoms, how- 
 ever, is not proved in the sense that atoms are aro- 
 )JLOI ; or single, isolated, minute bodies of a peculiar 
 individuality separate, indivisible, and eternal enti- 
 ties. Whether they are concrete things or certain 
 forms of motion in a continuous substance, whether 
 they are vortices or whirls of a certain density and 
 velocity in an ether ocean, or whatever else be their 
 character, is not yet known. If we exclude from the 
 concept "atoms "all hypothetical views and confine 
 their meaning strictly to the formulation of certain ex- 
 periences, we have to deal with facts that are real. 
 Theories are true in so far as they comprehend in a 
 formula a certain group of facts, and a hypothesis be- 
 comes reliable to the extent that it agrees with facts. 
 The slightest actual disagreement with facts is suf- 
 ficient to overthrow the most ingenious hypothesis. 
 
4.0 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 This leads us to the question, What is meant by 
 true ? What is truth ? 
 
 IX. FACTS AND REALITY. TRUTH AND MIND. 
 
 The epitheton "true" has reference to represen- 
 tative states only. A representation is true, if it con- 
 forms to, or agrees with, experience ; in other words, 
 if it is an interpretation of given facts, is free from 
 contradiction, and nowhere collides with any one of 
 the given facts and their consistent interpretation. 
 There is no sense in speaking of mere feelings as 
 being true. W T e can never meet, in our own expe- 
 rience, with given facts that are nothing but meaning- 
 less feelings ; for we (as thinking beings) are incapable 
 of bringing meaningless feelings into the scope of con- 
 sciousness, since in the very act of thinking we com- 
 ment upon the given facts of our feelings. But suppos- 
 ing there are mere given facts, mere meaningless 
 feelings void of any representative element, the appli- 
 cation of the word true to such non-representative 
 feelings would be improper. States of consciousness 
 become true or untrue only by being representative of 
 objective conditions or things. There is no trace of 
 truth in mere feelings, but only in representative feel- 
 ings. Truth and error are the privilege of mind. A 
 representation is true, if all the various experiences 
 concerning a certain thing or state of things agree 
 with the representation ; it is untrue if they do not 
 agree. 
 
 We observe that certain classes of facts, in spite 
 of all variety, exhibit in one or another respect a 
 sameness, and science attempts to express the same^ 
 ness in exact formulas. These formulas we call natural 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 41 
 
 laws. If a natural law covers all cases of a class that 
 have come or even that possibly can come within the 
 range of our experience, if it agrees with every one of 
 them, we call it a truth. 
 
 " Truth " accordingly is not at all identical with 
 "fact. " These two words are often used as synonyms, 
 but properly employed they are quite distinct. Truth 
 is the agreement of a representation with the facts 
 represented. The fall of a stone is a fact ; it is an in- 
 ferred fact deduced from certain sense-impressions. 
 In so far as the inference is made with necessity as 
 the only proper and simplest explanation of a certain 
 given fact or sense-impression, it must be considered 
 as a fact or as real. The law of gravitation, however, 
 is not a fact, but a truth. 
 
 Facts are real. There is no sense in speaking of 
 facts as being true. Representations of facts are true 
 or untrue. Reality is the characteristic feature of all 
 facts, but truth is a quality that can reside in mind 
 alone. 
 
 Facts are always single, concrete, and individual. 
 Every fact is a hie and num. It is in a special place, 
 and it is as it is, at a certain time. It is definite and 
 of a particular kind. Yet a truth, although represen- 
 ting certain objects or their relations, is never a con- 
 crete object, nor is it a hie and a nunc. It possesses 
 a generality applicable to all instances wherever and 
 whenever the objects in their particular relation ap- 
 pear represented in that truth. Truth accordingly 
 possesses as it were an ubiquity ; it is omnipresent 
 and eternal. 
 
 Truth in one sense is objective ; it represents ob- 
 jects or their relations conceived in their objectivity, 
 in their independence of the subject. This means 
 
42 THE SOUL OF MAN'. 
 
 that the representation of certain objective states will 
 under like conditions agree with the experiences of all 
 subjects i. e., of all feeling beings having the same 
 channels of information. 
 
 Truth in another sense is subjective. Truth exists 
 in thinking subjects only. Truth affirms that certain 
 subjective representations of the objective world can 
 be relied upon, that they are deduced from facts and 
 agree with facts. Based upon past experience, they 
 can be used as guides for future experience. If there 
 were no subjective beings, no feeling and compre- 
 hending minds, there would be no truth. Facts in 
 themselves, whether they are or are not represented 
 in the mind of a feeling and thinking subject, are real, 
 yet representations alone, supposing they agree with 
 
 facts, are true. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Mind, or the representation of facts in feeling sub- 
 stance, is the creation of a new and a spiritual realm 
 above the facts of material existence. By spiritual 
 we understand feelings that are representative ; and 
 we say that it is a new creation because it does not 
 exist in the isolated facts of the world. It is formed 
 under special conditions. It rises from certain com- 
 binations of facts ; being built upon those facts which 
 produce in their co-operation the subjective state of 
 feeling. The activity of mind if methodically dis- 
 ciplined is called science. Science attempts to make 
 the mental representations correct : it is the search for 
 truth. The object of all the sciences and of phi- 
 losophy is to systematise knowledge, i. e., all the in- 
 numerable data of experience, so that we can under- 
 stand and survey the facts of reality in their harmo- 
 nious interconnection. The most important problem 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 43 
 
 of philosophy has always been the problem of the 
 origin of mind ; for we are anxious to comprehend how 
 it is possible that feeling can spring up in a universe 
 of not-feeling objects, and that thinking beings can 
 originate in a world of not-thinking elements. 
 
 Dualism assumes that the gulf between the two 
 empires, the thinking and feeling on one side and the 
 not-thinking and not-feeling on the other side, is in- 
 surmountable ; Monism however maintains that there 
 is no gulf, for there is no reason for such an assump- 
 tion. Both realms, the feeling and thinking on the 
 one hand, and the unfeeling and unthinking on the 
 other hand, are not at all distinct and separate prov- 
 inces. The transition from the one to the other takes 
 place by degrees, and there is no boundary line be- 
 tween them. The atoms of oxygen which we inhale at 
 present are not engaged in any action that is accom 1 
 panied with feeling, but some of them will be very 
 soon active in the generation of our best thought ac- 
 companied with most intense consciousness. After 
 that they are thrown aside in the organism and pass 
 out as waste products in the shape of carbonic acid. 
 
 X. TELEPATHY. 
 
 The spiritual originates from and disappears into 
 the non-spiritual not otherwise than light originates 
 out of, and dissolves again into, darkness. Light is 
 usually considered as the emblem of mind, for light 
 also discloses to our eye those objects which are so 
 far away that we can never expect to touch them with 
 our hands. So mind, the representation of the objec- 
 tive world in feeling substance, unveils the riddles of 
 the universe and shows the secret connections of most 
 distant things and events. 
 
44 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Spiritualists discuss with great enthusiasm the 
 problem of telepathy. Telepathy means "far-feeling." 
 Mental activity exhibits in all its elements instances 
 of telepathy in the literal sense of the word. We do 
 not feel our sense-organs; but in and through our 
 sense-organs objects outside of us are felt. In and 
 through our eyes most distant stars are seen. If tel- 
 epathy has no other but its natural and proper mean- 
 ing we must confess that the whole activity of the mind 
 rests upon telepathy. 
 
 However, we cannot recognise telepathy in the 
 sense in which the word is often employed by spirit- 
 ualists. With many it denotes a process of such far- 
 feeling as is not caused in the natural way and as 
 stands in contradiction to the mechanical intercon- 
 nection of causes and effects in the universe. It is 
 supposed to supersede the order of nature. We rec- 
 ognise telepathy fully in the sense that feelings rep- 
 resent distant events and that mind can thus pene- 
 trate into the remotest regions of time and space, but 
 not in any other sense that stands in contradiction 
 with the universal order of mechanical causation. 
 
 What is the soul but a telepathic machine ! It is 
 an organised totality of representations in feeling sub- 
 stance employed for the purpose of reacting appro- 
 priately upon the stimuli of external things. Man is a 
 part of the cosmos, he consists of a certain group of 
 facts, belonging to and being in intimate connection 
 with the whole universe. Man's mind is the cosmos 
 represented in this special group of facts. A correct 
 representation of the cosmos includes a proper adap- 
 tation. Accordingly the human soul is a microcosm 
 and its function is the endeavoring to conform to the 
 macrocosm. 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MIND. 45 
 
 XI. MIND AND ETERNITY. 
 
 Light is a most wonderful phenomenon ; and yet 
 we know that the objective process taking place in 
 luminous bodies and thence transmitted through ether 
 vibrations to our eye where it causes the sensation of 
 light, is a mode of motion that can be produced me- 
 chanically by changing simple or mechanical motion 
 (i. e., change of place) through friction into molecular 
 motion. As light originates out of darkness, being a 
 special mode of motion, so feeling originates out of 
 the not-feeling. The not-feeling accordingly contains 
 the conditions of feeling in a similar way as potential 
 energy contains the potentiality of kinetic energy, or 
 as molar motion contains potentially the molecular 
 motion of heat, light, and electricity. 
 
 Mind sheds light upon the interconnection of all 
 things and gives meaning to the world. If the world 
 consisted of purely objective facts only, it would re- 
 main a meaningless play of forces. Mind and the 
 whole realm of spiritual existence rises from most in- 
 significant beginnings ; yet is it so grand and divine 
 because it represents the world in its wonderful har- 
 mony and cosmic order. 
 
 The function of spiritual activity appears to us as 
 transient ; but mind is not as transient as it seems. 
 The continuous light of a flame depends in every in- 
 stance upon the conditions of the moment. But the 
 continuity of mind shows a preservation of mind- 
 forms, the corresponding spiritual activity of which 
 is called memory. Memory or the mind-form of former 
 states is the most important factor in the determina- 
 tion of the representative value of present states of 
 mind. The continuity trlus effected makes it possible 
 
46 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 for mind to represent not only things and processes 
 distant in space, but also those distant in time. 
 
 The continuation of form in feeling substance, not 
 merely in the life of single individuals, but also in the 
 life of the race, produces the growth, the develop- 
 ment, and evolution of mind. Thus facts can be rep- 
 resented in their connections, and the necessity of 
 their connection can be understood. To use Spinoza's 
 phrase : The world can be viewed sub specie (zterni- 
 tatis. 
 
 The fulfilment of mind is truth, or a correct rep- 
 resentation of facts, not as they are now and here, 
 but as, according to conditions which constitute a 
 given state of things, they must be here and every- 
 where. Mind expands in the measure that it contains 
 and reflects the eternity of truth. 
 
 The activity of mind is in one respect as transient 
 a process as is the phenomenon of light. Yet in other 
 respects mind is able to grasp eternity within the nar- 
 row span of the moment. 
 
VITALISM AND THE CONSERVATION OF 
 ENERGY. 
 
 A GREAT difference appears to exist between an 
 animal that moves about and a stone that remains on 
 the spot where it has been placed. It seems as if 
 every child might easily explain it. And yet it re- 
 quired the lapse of centuries before scientists could 
 tell us what were the characteristic features of animal 
 life. 
 
 In former centuries people' were satisfied to state 
 that the animal was alive, while a stone was not alive. 
 And we may perhaps, even in the present day, accept 
 this explanation. But we refuse to be paid with empty 
 words. We now ask : What is life ? 
 
 In past ages it was assumed, that certain things 
 were alive, because they contained vitality or a vital 
 principle. This simple explanation was called Vitalism. 
 The vital principle, it was held, manifested itself 
 through spontaneous motion. Things that contained 
 no vital principle were not alive ; and could therefore 
 be moved by push only, by a vis a tergo, as they said ; 
 that is, through a mechanical pressure from without. 
 
 The striking feature of living things, of both plants 
 as well as animals, is their organic growth of which 
 inanimate objects are destitute. Thus it became cus- 
 tomary to distinguish an organic and an inorganic 
 kingdom ; and when chemistry, the youngest science, 
 
48 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 was born, a new flood of light was expected to be shed 
 upon the obscure problem of vitality. 
 
 Chemists, indeed, discovered, that all living sub- 
 stance of the animal and the vegetable kingdoms con- 
 sisted chiefly of four elementary substances ; viz., of 
 oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen. There were 
 very slight admixtures only of a few other ingredients, 
 such as phosphorus, sulphur, iron, chloride of sodium 
 (salt), etc. Life, it appeared, must depend upon the 
 interaction of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen. 
 Accordingly, these four elements were called organic 
 substances. They were supposed to be the substances 
 of life. 
 
 But the hope that from a difference of matter the 
 problem of vitality could be solved, was preposterous. 
 In many respects the so-called organic substances do 
 not differ at all from the inorganic substances, and there 
 exist many combinations of the organic substances 
 that are neither of an animal nor of a vegetable nature. 
 We cannot therefore look upon living things as com- 
 binations of the organic substances ; they are more 
 than combinations of organic substances ; they are 
 organic substances in a special form which admit of a 
 constant interaction. Substances of such a form are 
 called organized substances well to be distinguished 
 from organic substances. The idea of a life-substance 
 had to be abandoned, and scientists now tried to ex- 
 plain the problem of vitality from the supposition 
 of a vital energy. This vital energy was considered 
 as different from any other kind of energy, and many 
 very prominent scientists looked upon it as a super- 
 natural quality which lay beyond explanation. 
 
 The theory that a vital energy animates living 
 bodies was maintained until half a century ago by our 
 
VITALISM. 49 
 
 most prominent physiologists. But it received its 
 death-blow, when the law of the conservation of en- 
 ergy was recognized to the full extent of its importance. 
 We now know that all forces in nature are motions of 
 some kind : light and electricity are undulations of 
 ether ; heat is a molecular vibration ; and mechanical 
 motion, change of place or visible movement, can be 
 transformed into any other energy, electricity, light, 
 or heat. Vice versa, motion can be reproduced from 
 the other energies. 
 
 Energy* certainly of ten seems to disappear and can 
 apparently be created again. But it can be shown 
 that energy, when it disappears, reappears in another 
 form, and that the energy thus created did exist before, 
 it was only transformed. Energy may be latent ; and 
 latent energy can be set free again. Because latent 
 energy can be set free again, it is called potential en- 
 ergy (Z. Z. potentialis, horn possum, Lean). 
 
 Suppose my hand exercises a force represented by 
 A B upon your hand, and your hand resists the pres- 
 sure by exercising an equal force in the opposite direc- 
 tion B A, there will be no motion. Let the stress 
 between the two hands represent the force of A B-\-B A, 
 This stress is latent energy; it .is potential and can be 
 converted into an energy of motion, or, as it is termed, 
 into kinetic energy. 
 
 If it takes a pressure of A B to set the spring of 
 a toy gun, the spring will exercise the same amount of 
 force {B A] upon the catch that keeps it compressed. 
 
 * Leibnitz called a force that acts as motion of some form " vis viva,'" or 
 " living force." He defined vis viva as the product of the mass by the square 
 of the velocity, M V 2 . But now the term kinetic energy (from Kive~i>, to move), 
 energy of motion, has become customary, and we understand by kinetic energy 
 half the mass times the square of velocity (% M V 2 "}. See Maxwell, Theory 
 of Heat, page 90. 
 
50 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 There will be no motion, so long as the catch is strong 
 enough to endure the pressure B A. But the force 
 A B is not annihilated ; it still exists as potential 
 energy and can be set free at any moment by the re- 
 moval of the catch, which is done by pulling the trig- 
 ger. The pressure B A, that the spring exerts, was 
 created through the expenditure of the force A B dur- 
 ing the act of setting the gun. The spring is, so to 
 say, loaded, it is freighted with a certain amount of 
 energy ; and if the trigger is pulled, a kind of explo- 
 sion takes place i. e., kinetic energy is suddenly set 
 free, which is available for doing work. In a toy gun 
 it is used for throwing pebbles or peas. 
 
 A house of cards in the same way represents poten- 
 tial energy. One card keeps the other standing by 
 pressure and counterpressure. If through the inter- 
 ference of some change the pressure of one card ceases 
 to be quite equal to that of the other, the house breaks 
 down, thus changing stress into motion or, in other 
 terms, thus changing potential energy into kinetic 
 energy. 
 
 The building up and breaking down of a house of 
 cards is a process visible in all its details. But there 
 are chemical compositions that are similar to such 
 houses of cards, yet do not show the details of the 
 building up and breaking down. It takes a certain 
 amount of energy to build them, and they thus contain 
 potential energy. Whenever a very small change, a 
 slight concussion, an increase of temperature, or a 
 spark, can cause their breakdown, they are called 
 "unstable." Gunpowder and all other explosives are 
 of this character. 
 
 Although kinetic energy may disappear when it is 
 changed into potential energy, yet energy itself can- 
 
VITALISM. 51 
 
 not be destroyed. Neither can it be produced. Like 
 matter, energy is indestructible. 
 
 The question now arises : Is vital force different 
 from both these energies ? And the unequivocal an- 
 swer is, No ! The energy which living beings expend 
 in their activity, in their motions, their passions, and 
 in their thought, is the same energy that we meet with 
 everywhere, and which is produced in animal bodies 
 in a' more complicated way, yet in a similar manner 
 as work is done by machines.* As machines are fed 
 by coal and heated by the combustion of coal, so the 
 animal receives food, which through the organs of 
 digestion is assimilated and transformed into highly 
 complicated, unstable combinations. Like gunpowder, 
 or like a drawn spring, these unstable combinations 
 contain potential energy. An unstable combination 
 of high complexity, when breaking down into a more 
 stable combination of less complexity, sets free that 
 quantity of kinetic energy that was necessary to 
 build it up and to keep it in a state of tension. In the 
 animal body, as in the fire-box of a steam-engine, a 
 process of combustion takes place : the exceedingly 
 unstable oxygen of the air combines with carbon and 
 nitrogen compounds, which are also unstable and to 
 which oxygen bears a great affinity, i. e., it easily com- 
 bines with them into more stable compositions. All the 
 details of this process are not yet fully known and cal- 
 culated ; but the theory itself can no longer be doubted. 
 
 Combustion means oxidation ; and oxidation, con- 
 verting substances into more stable combinations, sets 
 energy free, which appears either as heat or as work 
 performed. The process of oxidation in the fire-box 
 of a steam-engine is a luminous process, while in the 
 
 * See Gavarret, De la chaleur produite par les $tres vivants. 
 
52 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 body it is not strong enough for developing visible 
 flames. Oxygen, in the process of combustion, unites 
 with carbon into carbonic acid and leaves behind 
 water and other incombustible parts. 
 
 Oxygen is conveyed into the body by respiration ; 
 in the lungs the blood is oxidized, which carries the 
 oxygen to the different organs. Through the oxida- 
 tion of the tissues in the nerves, in the muscles, and in 
 other living substances, potential energy is set free 
 which partly appears as heat, partly as work per- 
 formed. The heat is called animal heat, the work 
 performed is the movements of the body. The pro- 
 ducts of the oxidations are carbonic acid, water, and 
 certain nitrogen compounds, which are given off in 
 the secretion of urine, in the air expelled from the 
 lungs in breathing, and through perspiration. 
 
 Professor Bunge in Basel has again recently adopted 
 the expression vital energy. Bunge justly maintains, 
 that the forces that appear in a living animal organ- 
 ism are entirely different from all other forces in nature. 
 In this manner he re-admitted the obsolete term 
 vitalism. In Professor Bunge's writings, however, 
 the term vitalism is in so far modified and modernized, 
 that the Professor does not at all contest that this vital 
 energy is just as much energy as any mechanical 
 movement, heat or electricity, and that it originates 
 by way of transformation from other forms of energy. 
 Vital energy is nevertheless entirely different from 
 other forces, even as electricity differs from heat or 
 from visible motion, from friction, or from light. 
 
 In the old electric machine friction is transformed 
 into electricity, and we know that electricity as well as 
 friction is a certain mode of motion : still electricity is 
 not friction. Thus, vital energy is likewise quite a 
 
VITALISM. 53 
 
 special form of energy, which form is different from all 
 the other forms of energy from which it can be pro- 
 duced. 
 
 Vitality is an energy just as well as all other 
 energies, but its form is peculiar ; it is neither elec- 
 tricity, nor light, nor heat alone, nor any other energy 
 we know of, although it may be more or less similar 
 to the one and to the other. Vitality originates from 
 the same great reservoir of energy as all the other 
 forms of energy, and it stands with them in a constant 
 interaction. Yet the only engine by which, to our 
 knowledge, vital energy can be created, is the animal 
 organism. According to the present state of knowl- 
 edge, we can, to say the least, hardly expect to be able 
 to produce vital energy in any other manner. - This 
 truth is most concisely formulated in the statement 
 that life comes from life only. 
 
ORGANIZED AND NON-ORGANIZED LIFE. 
 
 IF by life is to be understood spontaneous motion, 
 we must acknowledge that the whole universe is ani- 
 mated, and that the animal world owes its life, its 
 growth, and its whole existence to the universal life 
 of nature. For a long while, under the influence of 
 materialistic philosophy, it was believed, that we 
 should be able to explain the psychological and phys- 
 iological action of the animal world from the chemical 
 and purely mechanical processes of nature. The 
 world was considered as a dead machine moved by 
 push from the outside. As a matter of fact, the in- 
 verse is true ; science has been compelled to explain 
 even the jnechanical processes through the facts of 
 physiology and psychology. For there is life and spon- 
 taneity everywhere in nature ; in the falling stone no 
 less than in the blowing of buds and in the decisions 
 of the human will. 
 
 The simplest mechanical movements appeared so 
 self-evident, that scientists believed they might pro- 
 perly be regarded as the most general facts, to which 
 for the sake of explanation all other natural pheno- 
 mena would have to be reduced. Mechanics, after 
 all, only explains the form of visible motion ; it only 
 shows how one form of motion necessarily proceeds 
 from another or how it is transformed from potential 
 energy. The fact of the motion itself remained un- 
 
ORGANIZED LIFE. 55 
 
 explained. How a stone falls can be correctly calcu- 
 lated ; the cause that occasions its fall in each single 
 instance can be stated, but the reason why it falls, 
 why it is attracted toward the earth, remained an 
 open question. Repeated attempts were made to 
 explain gravitation from the pressure of a surrounding 
 ether, simply because scientists had been accustomed 
 to regard organic nature as dead. In this, however, 
 they entirely overlooked the fact, that even if in such 
 case the descent of a stone could be sufficiently ex- 
 plained through mechanical pressure (we need not 
 mention here the many contradictions arising from this 
 hypothesis), the pressure itself, which the ether exerts, 
 would remain unexplained. By virtue of this .explana- 
 tion the presence of ether must cause all movement, 
 and ether would be the source of all life, the agency 
 that produces the spontaneity of nature. But, if 
 ether itself is not alive, through what push or pressure 
 could it have attained its energy ? In this manner the 
 problem is only delayed, and can be delayed ad infi- 
 nitum without the approach of anything that looks 
 like an explanation. We therefore regard these ether- 
 theories as a failure, and rather adopt the simpler 
 conception, according to which nature as a whole is en- 
 dowed with spontaneity, i. e. , self-motion. A stone is not 
 pushed toward the earth by a pressure, by a vis a tergo, 
 but it spontaneously moves. The stone (like all bodies) 
 has a quality, called gravity, which is manifested in 
 gravitation. One body attracts another body inversely 
 as the square of their distance. Gravity is not out- 
 side of the stone pulling or pushing it ; it is in the 
 stone itself, it is an inseparable part of it, a quality 
 being identical with its mass. Accordingly, the fall- 
 ing stone is not acted uf>on, it is self-acting. 
 
56 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 This same principle applies to all more complica- 
 ted processes, and even to human action itself. A 
 chemical combination is not affected through the 
 pressure of some unknown or unknowable agent out- 
 side the substances that pushes them together; but 
 through their own inherent energy, through qualities 
 that are inseparably connected with their very exist- 
 ence qualities that in their totality constitute their 
 whole being. 
 
 The spontaneity of living creatures, which in the 
 form of organized life is called vitality, is accord- 
 ingly derived from other forms of energy, just as the 
 materials that are constantly building up the body 
 are substances that are found everywhere about us in 
 nature. We drink the water that falls from the clouds 
 or is drawn from a spring. The carbonic acid of the 
 air is transformed in plants into hydrates of carbon, and 
 we consume them in our daily bread. We breathe 
 the oxygen of the air, and through all the complex 
 and peculiar processes which these substances undergo 
 within our body through constant combinations and 
 decompositions, we derive in every second of our life 
 fresh strength from the great store-house of living 
 nature to live, and move, and have our being. 
 
 Spontaneous motion is the universal feature of all 
 natural processes. But if spontaneity is not the charac- 
 teristic feature of animal life, if the self-motion of liv- 
 ing men and animals is only a special instance of the 
 universal spontaneity of nature, if they are but a pecu- 
 liar form, a particular, grand, and wonderful revela- 
 tion of the same what then is to be regarded as the 
 essential difference between both these kingdoms? A 
 difference which, despite the intimate connection of 
 both, is so very striking and manifest 
 
ORGANIZED LIFE. 57 
 
 That which particularly distinguishes so called liv- 
 ing beings in their contrast to the so-called not-living 
 beings of inorganic nature is their organization. We, 
 therefore, must carefully distinguish between organic 
 substances and organized substance. 
 
 Organized substance, or rather organizing sub- 
 stance, is that which displays all the special functions, 
 which exhibits the properties of life in the narrower and 
 in the ordinary sense of the word. Organized sub- 
 stance not only possesses that spontaneity of movement 
 which is common to all substances, and which it shows 
 in a striking manner especially by the transformation 
 of potential into kinetic energy; it also possesses the 
 faculty of continuing without interruption the process 
 of self-organization. It takes from its environment 
 fresh substances, which it assimilates into the higher 
 (that is, unstable) combinations of its own ; where- 
 upon in animal beings these higher and unstable com- 
 positions again are decomposed through a process 
 of oxidation. 
 
 The process of organization, accordingly, consists 
 in what we usually understand by assimilation of food, 
 resulting in nutrition and growth, accompanied by dis- 
 assimilation, i. e., a constant expulsion of the used ele- 
 ments. In animals, moreover, the setting free of 
 energy in the form of motion is a further characteristic 
 trait of the most important peculiarities of the higher 
 forms of organizing substance. 
 
 We learn from this that every trifling act of vitality, 
 be it ever so insignificant or little, the slightest move- 
 ment, even the blinking of an eye, and also every 
 thought and every emotion of our soul, is a decay of 
 built-up living substance. How closely, then, are 
 death and life akin ! Nay, they are in this sense iden- 
 
58 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 tical, for each act of life is an act of death and the old 
 hymn is true, 
 
 In the midst of life by death we are surrounded. 
 Media vita nos in morte suinus. 
 
 And this idea contains even a deeper truth than 
 was dreamed of by the poet of those lines, or by the 
 millions of human souls of past ages, who in their 
 anxieties and in danger of death repeated the words of 
 that grand hymn. 
 
 Decay is the condition of activity. Thus the char- 
 acteristic feature of death is the very nature of life. 
 Death constantly hovers about us, and out of his hand 
 We receive through the decay of the forms which 
 hoard potential energy, that vitality which warms our 
 hearts and glows through all our being, which we ex- 
 pend for our own necessities as well as for the weal of 
 future humanity. 
 
 The truth, that every vital act is at the same time 
 an act of death, would find a wrong application if its 
 influence would drive us to melancholy, if it would 
 make our lives gloomy and our souls despondent. 
 On the contrary, it must make us brave and coura- 
 geous, for indeed it does not show life in a terrible and 
 death-like shape, but death himself with all his terrors 
 appears in a milder and nobler aspect. Death, the 
 giver of life, will bestow the richer gifts, the better we 
 learn to appreciate their value. To both the spend- 
 thrift who wastes, as well as to the miser who leaves 
 his powers of life unused, the fountain of life will cease 
 to flow. But through wise use we may do both, pre- 
 serve and even increase its bounties. 
 
 Who wishes to preserve his life loses the same ; 
 but he who loses his life in the service of a higher and 
 of a more lasting cause than is that of self-hood, will 
 
ORGANIZED LIFE. 59 
 
 
 
 truly preserve his life. Activity of work not only keeps 
 the fountain of life flowing, but the work performed 
 will live even in the generations to come, and the 
 greater, the purer, and the nobler, the more moral our 
 work is the more lasting will it be, the more will it 
 partake of the grandeur of eternity. 
 
MEMORY AND ORGANIZED SUBSTANCE. 
 
 THROUGH the monistic conception the yawning 
 chasm that seems to separate living nature from dead 
 nature, is bridged over. Dead nature only appears 
 to be dead in comparison with the higher manifesta- 
 tions of organized life. Nevertheless, the latter springs 
 from, and is constantly drawing upon the resources of, 
 the former. It is true, it has not hitherto been possi- 
 ble to create organized substance from non-organized 
 substance. So far as we can judge this cannot be 
 done otherwise than by the natural process, with the help 
 of previously extant organisms. All attempts to the end 
 of making the organic elements (O, C, H, N) organize, 
 have utterly failed. This, however, does not disprove, 
 that under certain definite circumstances (which, per- 
 haps, are no longer realizable on this planet of ours) 
 the organic elements do actually organize with the 
 same necessity as under certain given circumstances 
 electric tensions spontaneously arise, which afterwards 
 discharge in thunder-storms. 
 
 The spontaneous rise of organized life from the 
 "all-life" of nature cannot be contested, unless indeed 
 we wish to lose ourselves in interminable contradic- 
 tions or in incomprehensible wonder-theories concern- 
 ing supernatural powers. 
 
 In view of the fact that we must grant even to in- 
 organic nature a certain kind of life, manifested in 
 spontaneous self -motion, the question has been mooted, 
 
MEMORY. 6 1 
 
 whether a piece of coal that burns away, and a stone 
 that falls to the earth, are not endowed with a kind of 
 feeling, that is, whether in such substances actually 
 there does not take place something that, on a minia- 
 ture scale, might correspond to that which in our- 
 selves we perceive as feeling. 
 
 The question is perfectly legitimate, and, perhaps, 
 ought to be answered in the affirmative. The non- 
 organized substances must, in fact, possess all the 
 conditions of organized life, and consequently those 
 of feeling also. Still, in admitting this, we ought to 
 bear in mind that the mere conditions of feeling are 
 not as yet feeling itself, even as mere friction does not 
 as yet constitute electricity. 
 
 The processes of inorganic nature, as compared with 
 those of organized life, are isolated and instantaneous 
 proceedings. They are not organically linked to pre- 
 vious processes by a chain of memories. An atom 
 of oxygen goes through a thousand different conditions 
 which leave, so far as we are able to judge, no mark, 
 no impression upon it. With equal indifference it 
 will now sustain life and now cause iron to rust. That 
 it did pass through the former process has no influence 
 upon its action in the latter, and although all processes 
 of nature, even those of inorganic nature, are intercon- 
 nected, the connection is meaningless in such cases. 
 Every process of inorganic nature is an isolated act, 
 limited to the instant at which it takes place. This 
 is one and perhaps the most important reason why 
 inorganic processes can not exhibit feeling certainly 
 not that which in the life of animal existences we are 
 wont to designate as feeling. 
 
 Coal and stones and atoms of oxygen in the air are 
 not sentient beings in the*same sense as animals, and 
 
62 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 not even in the sense in which mimosas are sentient, 
 simply because they are not organized, and according 
 to all appearances are destitute of memory. Only 
 memory can create feeling that which we commonly 
 understand by feeling, which is a discriminative faculty. 
 The retentive power of memory preserves former im- 
 pressions, and thus renders a comparison of the present 
 state of things with past experiences possible. 
 
 Professor Hering most ably demonstrates in his 
 famous monograph on Memory, that memory is a uni- 
 versal property of organized substance. Memory, in- 
 deed, is the result of organization and all the supe- 
 riority of organized substance over inorganic matter, 
 is first of all due to its memory. 
 
 Every organized substance that we know, is but 
 the summation of its history from the beginning. Every 
 impression, and every mode in which the organism 
 ever reacted against impressions, are faithfully pre- 
 served, in the most delicate and recondite features of 
 the living substance. By the aid of its memories an 
 organism creates a unity with its own past as well as 
 future, which enables it to turn the fruits of former 
 experiences to advantage for experiences to come, and 
 in this manner renders possible a progression to ever 
 higher stages of development, to more varied forms, 
 and to more powerful and nobler types of being. 
 
 The rise of organized substance from non-organized 
 elements constitutes the triumph of nature over the 
 blindness of a purely material reality. The elements 
 previously isolated combine and their very union builds 
 up in their forms a higher kind of life. Substance, in 
 becoming organized, peculiarly connects the existence 
 of materiality from molecule to molecule. It produces 
 above or among the molecules a new kind of existence, 
 
MEMORY. 63 
 
 manifested in ceaselessly interacting structures which, 
 not unlike living fountains, preserve their forms in the 
 constant flux of matter. Material existence has the 
 advantage of being indestructible and eternal, but the 
 life of forms has the greater advantage of being plas- 
 tic, and while preserving the treasures of its former 
 days, it can, in every moment of its activity, gain new 
 ones. This higher life of nature, deriving its super- 
 iority and grandeur not from its material resources, 
 but from its form, may very well be characterized as 
 spiritual. 
 
 It is said that the human body every seven years 
 completely renews all its constitutive elements. But 
 the connection with the work done by the lost and dis- 
 integrated parts is therefore not broken, after their 
 having performed their respective functions. We still 
 very well remember what we did and thought seven 
 or fourteen years ago, nay even twenty-one, twenty- 
 eight years, and more. The reason of this wonderful 
 fact is, that the forms of organized substance as 
 created under the influences of events and actions 
 amidst all the elementary changes of growth, still re- 
 main faithfully preserved. 
 
 The preservation of form in living substance is 
 the principle that explains memory. Indeed, both are 
 equivalent terms. By memory we understand noth- 
 ing more or less than the psychical aspect of the pre- 
 servation of form in living substance. The skin of my 
 hand, which once, some twenty years ago, was slightly 
 wounded, has been renovated again and again, through 
 the expulsion of all disintegrated parts, but the form 
 of the wound has nevertheless been preserved in the 
 white line of a scar. The brain similarly preserves 
 certain impressions, the forms of which remain, though 
 
64 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the nervous substance may change. And if these forms 
 happen to be stimulated or irritated, we experience 
 the same feelings over again, as when we received the 
 impression only much weaker in its resuscitation than 
 in the moment when they were first experienced. And 
 yet not a single particle is preserved of the matter 
 that, at the time of the impression, performed the 
 function of feeling. 
 
 The higher life of nature begins with memory 
 through the preservation of living forms, and in the 
 course of the ever-ascending higher development of 
 the organizing substances, it will reach the conscious- 
 ness of animal life and ultimately rise to the stage of 
 human intelligence. 
 
 This same higher nature, that created spiritual 
 existence, still continues active, and in the depths 
 of human hearts incessantly creates new ideals, which 
 in organic growth sprout forth from past experiences. 
 The memories of both successes and failures live 
 in our brain, and shape themselves into new images of 
 better conditions, under which disappointments can 
 be avoided. Thus they lead humanity onward on the 
 highway of an endless and boundless progress. 
 
 The spiritual life of higher existence, which to 
 organized substance imparts its superiority and proper 
 character, we commonly call soul. Accordingly, we 
 define soul as the form of an organism. This definition 
 may seem exceedingly simple, but like all simple truths 
 it possesses a far-reaching significance. 
 
 The development of our soul is the highest task of 
 humanity; to attend to this task constitutes our most 
 sacred religious duty. But the indispensable condition 
 for this is self-knowledge. 
 
 The pursuit of self knowledge being the basis of re- 
 
MEMORY. 65 
 
 ligion, the words /Vc5#z Gsavrov., "know thyself," 
 were inscribed above the portals of the most venerable 
 sanctuary of ancient Greece. Self-knowledge is de- 
 manded from those who wish to cross the threshold of 
 the sanctuary of Apollo, of the divinity of light, and 
 spirit. 
 
 To investigate the nature of the soul, to study the laws 
 in accordance with which the soul is developed, and pre- 
 served in a condition of health, is of greatest import- 
 ance to every human creature ; for even in our own day, 
 to the most advanced and radical adept of free thought, 
 *s to all, the grand words of the Gospel apply : "What 
 shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world 
 and lose his own soul ?" (MARK vin. 36.) 
 
SOUL-LIFE OF ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 
 
 THE soul of man is the result of the total develop- 
 ment of organized substance from its first beginning 
 and through all its phases of transformation. Man is 
 the sum of all the memories of his ancestors. In the 
 man of to-day all the memories of the past continue 
 to live, as naturally as the child continues to live in 
 the youth and the youth in the developed man. 
 
 Death vanishes, when we thus conceive mankind 
 as one grand totality, as a huge wave sweeping on- 
 ward across the ocean of life. The wave in its progress 
 incessantly lifts other particles of water and leaves 
 the old ones behind ; yet it remains the same, and ever 
 must remain the same in its onward career. The wave 
 is not the water, although it consists of water ; it is a 
 special form of motion in water. Humanity is not the 
 matter of which men's bones and muscles consist. 
 Humanity is a certain form of life a form of motion 
 that sweeps over the ocean of matter. The material par- 
 ticles of which humanity now consists, are left behind, 
 they sink back into the ocean, but humanity continues 
 to progress ; it continues to live, and remains the same 
 through all the changes which the material parts of 
 living substance have to undergo. By humanity we 
 do not understand the clay of which man is made, 
 nor even the life which moves the clay, but the form 
 
ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 67 
 
 of life in the clay his soul ; and the soul lives even 
 though the body may die. 
 
 From this point of view the life of the individual 
 man is enlarged beyond the narrow limits of the 
 ego. He feels himself a part of a great whole, for 
 which, even in the most modest sphere, he can work 
 and exert himself. And in so far as he represents the 
 soul of humanity, he breathes the atmosphere of im- 
 mortality. The tidal wave of life, that now bears him 
 along, even after his earthly part has returned to the 
 dust whence it originated, will sweep resistlessly on- 
 ward toward grand and glorious goals, that now in our 
 ideal aspirations we dimly can presage. 
 
 Let us throw a glance upon the beginning of or- 
 ganized life where it separates into two distinctively 
 different kingdoms, viz., into plants and animals. 
 
 Living substance, animal as well as vegetable, which 
 has not as yet assumed a perceptibly specialized form, 
 is called protoplasm. Mi- 
 nute lumps of animal pro- 
 toplasm can frequently be 
 found in stagnant water. 
 They are called change-an - 
 imals, or amo3bas. Amce- 
 bas do not yet possess a 
 distinct mouth ; they take 
 nourishment by absorbing 
 and assimilating all kinds 
 of animal and vegetable particles, which they draw into 
 their interior through any point of their surface. They 
 have no distinct members; they move by sending out 
 protuberances and dragging the rest of their mass be- 
 hind. They multiply by division. Their constant 
 changes of form gave them their name. 
 
 AN AMCEBA. 
 
68 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Amoebas cannot as yet be characterized as organ- 
 isms. The simplest organism into which living sub- 
 stance develops, is the 
 cell. 
 
 Simple as the cell real- 
 ly is in comparison with ^ 
 any higher organism, it still , 
 
 appears extremely com- a. ! 
 
 plex, when submitted to a . 
 careful investigation. Un- 
 der ordinary conditions it 
 consists : 
 
 , The granulated appearance, accord- 
 
 1. Ol a membrane or ing to F i eming) is cause d by coaguia- 
 
 Skin, a, formed Under the tion due to chemical reaction. In the 
 . . . living cells which he examined, minute 
 
 influence Ot its environ- part icles of fat vibrated in the intern- 
 ment. bral matter - 
 
 2. Of the kernel or nucleus, c, and 
 
 3. The plasma or cell-substance, b. 
 
 According to Prof. Walther Flemming,* the cell- 
 substance, as well as the nucleus, is made up of spe- 
 cial fibral structures and an interfibral matter, which 
 in living cells, we have good reason to infer, is of the 
 nature of a fluid. 
 
 The kernel contains a smaller kernel, d, called the 
 nucleolus. 
 
 In the activity of the cell there subsists a division 
 of labor : the skin acts as the agency of communication 
 with the outside world, the cell-substance assimilates 
 and disassimilates food, the kernel serves for propaga- 
 tion. When the kernel has split, the cell begins to 
 branch off into several filial cells. 
 
 The principle of division of labor is carried farther 
 
 * Zells^bstanz, Kern, und Zelltheihmg. By Walther Flemming, Professor 
 of Anatomy at Kiel. Leipzig, 1882. F. C. W. Vogel. 
 
ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 
 
 69 
 
 still, when, as in the Hydra or Gastrula, several cells 
 form one greater whole. Each cell retains its individ- 
 uality, but it is differentiated through its service upon 
 the organism, to which it belongs. 
 
 SAGITTA. URASTER. NAUPLIUS. LINNAEUS. 
 
 FOUR DIAGRAMS OF DIFFERENT HYDRAS, ACCORDING TO H^CKEL : 
 
 /", Inner skin, or entoderm. d, Stomach. 
 
 e, Outer (exterior) skin or entoderm, s, Reservoir of assimilated food. 
 
 o, Orifice or mouth. 
 
 The law of specialization which makes the parts 
 of an organism work with and for each other, is the 
 
70 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 fundamental condition of all higher evolution of life. 
 Organized life, therefore, with all the varied spiritual 
 treasures that it has created, ultimately depends upon 
 a moral condition ; it depends upon the condition that 
 the individual earnestly devotes all its life and efforts 
 to the service of the greater whole to which it belongs. 
 Or shall we not rather state the fact in its inverted 
 and more natural order ? Because the devotion of 
 the work of every part to the life of the whole is the 
 condition of all evolution and of all progress, there- 
 fore it is ethical. Ethics is no creation of our mind. 
 Being the code of rules for our conduct, it must stand 
 on facts. The facts that have produced man, are the 
 data from which the rules of our conduct must be de- 
 rived. If ethics were a human invention, it would be 
 a mere fancy of our imagination. It might then be 
 called poetry, or romance, or subjective opinion, but 
 it would never be a science. Ethics, as we conceive it, 
 can be derived from and applied to facts. It is a 
 science and among the sciences it is the science of 
 sciences. It is applied philosophy. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 The Hydra, or fresh water polyp, being the next 
 step in the progressive development beyond a cell, has 
 the shape of a double-skinned bag. (See Figs, on p. 69.) 
 
 The outer skin, or ecto- 
 derm, e, performs the functions 
 of sensation and motion; if ir- 
 ritated, its cells contract. The 
 inner skin, or entoderm, /, per- 
 forms the function of food-assim- 
 ilation. The Cells Of the ectO- NEURO-MUSCULAR CELLS. 
 derm being connected among themselves by long 
 fibres, are called neuro muscular cells, because they 
 
ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 71 
 
 perform in the simplest manner possible at the same 
 time both the functions of nerves as well as those of 
 the muscles in more highly organized animals. 
 
 Man, considered from the standpoint of the theory 
 of evolution, must be regarded as a most highly de- 
 veloped Hydra. In man the inner skin, or entoderm, 
 through constant specialization of work, through the 
 perfectionment and increase of the functions, has been 
 developed into lungs, stomach, intestines, heart, liver, 
 and kidneys. The ectoderm, or outer skin, has been 
 transformed into the epithelium, muscles, nerves, 
 bones, and brain. The activity of the soul proper 
 i. e., of that part of the soul, or the whole form of the 
 organism, which discharges the most important func- 
 tions, has been concentrated in the brain. 
 
 Professor Hseckel, in one of his lectures, beautifully 
 explains, how each cell, even the plant-cell, is endowed 
 with a peculiar soul of its own ; but in higher animals 
 there are formed through a division of work special 
 soul-cells in the shape of nerve-substance. 
 
 The vegetable world could not raise its humble and 
 modest existence to such a height, as to differentiate 
 its soul-life in special soul- cells or nerves. And the 
 reason why plants remain on a much lower level than 
 animals, is mainly due to the fact, that the plant chiefly 
 lives upon inorganic elements, deriving nourishment 
 from its immediate environment, from the earth, the 
 air, and the water. Under the influence of the sun, 
 the plant decomposes water and carbonic acid, setting 
 free their oxygen. It retains the carbon of the car- 
 bonic acid, and the hydrogen of the water. At the 
 same time it absorbs nitrogen compounds from its sur- 
 roundings. The products of these decompositions are 
 then united into those combinations of carbon, nitro- 
 
72 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 gen, and hydrogen, which serve animals as food. The 
 plant, accordingly, (or more correctly expressed, the 
 solar-heat in the plant,) performs the work of decom- 
 posing the surrounding elements and building up out 
 of the simple products of decomposition higher com- 
 binations that are more complicated and contain po- 
 tential energy. The functions of the animal body are 
 performed exactly in an inverse order. The plant-cell 
 decomposes in order to build up, the animal-cell builds 
 up in order to decompose. 
 
 The higher a combination is, the less stable it is. 
 Like a house of cards, it easily breaks down and sets 
 free the energy stored up in its structure. Animal 
 bodies decompose vegetable combinations in order to 
 transform them into much higher combinations which 
 are extremely unstable, and thus they gather a store 
 of potential energy that, whenever wanted, can be con- 
 verted into the kinetic energy of living movements. 
 
 Animal life is conditioned by plant-life ; plant-life 
 must perform the preparatory work ; it collects by the 
 aid of sun-beams a treasure of potential energy, whence 
 animal life can derive the strength of its existence. 
 
 Since plant-life disengages comparatively little en- 
 ergy and that which it disengages, seems solely de- 
 voted to decomposition, plants naturally lack volun- 
 tary motion, and therewith all the higher soul-life of 
 the animal world. Exceptions to this rule are mostly 
 illusions. Such motions as those of the sun-flower, 
 turning its head toward the light, and the closing ot 
 the morning-glory after sunrise, cannot be considered 
 as voluntary. And such instances as the movements 
 of the Mimosae and the Venus fly-trap are at best slight 
 indications only of the higher possibilities which are 
 realized in animal life. 
 
ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 73 
 
 Darwin's interesting and well-known researches 
 upon this subject seem to confirm, that the movements 
 which take place in these plants in consequence of an 
 irritation, can partly, at least, be referred to the con- 
 traction of certain cells. As soon as the hair-like fibres 
 on the upper edge of the fly trap are irritated, they 
 transmit the irritation to the cells of the middle-ribs of 
 the side-leaves, whereby such a change is effected in 
 the cells that both halves of the leaf approach each 
 other. The nature of this change in the fly-trap has 
 not as yet been sufficiently established. But, it is 
 highly probable, that the movement in question is 
 caused by some kind of purely mechanical pressure, 
 and not through any disengagement of energy in the 
 plasma of the cell. Yet, even if this were the case, 
 it still differs immensely from the voluntary movement 
 of animal substance, even in so low an organism as is 
 the amoeba ; and we can look upon the motions of the 
 Venus fly-traps as upon a faint analogy only to the 
 activity of the animal world, and very rare, indeed, 
 are instances of such motions in the world of plants. 
 
 The work of the nerves or soul-cells consists in the 
 transmission of an irritation, caused through an out- 
 ward impression. The irritation provokes a movement 
 which is called the reflex-motion of the irritation. It 
 is considered as a reaction, and physiologists speak of 
 "a change of irritation into reflex-motion." 
 
 Nerves, accordingly, perform two functions : 
 
 1. An irritation is received at the periphery (the 
 outer skin) of an organism ; and 
 
 2. A reaction takes place in the interior of the nerv- 
 ous substance. It is conducted on another path back 
 to the periphery, causing the contraction of certain 
 fibres beneath the skin, thus resulting in motion. 
 
74 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 In this manner two kinds of nerve-fibers are formed, 
 in-going and out-going lines, centripetal or afferent, 
 and centrifugal or efferent nerves, which meet in a 
 knot, the so-called ganglion. The centripetal nerves 
 are called sensory, the centrifugal motory. 
 
 As an in- 
 stance of an ex- 
 tremely simple 
 nervous system 
 consisting sole- 
 ly of a ganglion 
 with aff e r e n t 
 and erf e r e n t 
 nerves, we 
 mention the 
 whirl-worm or 
 S Turb ellaria. 
 -Jl The skin of this 
 rorm is differ- 
 
 w 
 
 entiated in two 
 m places on each 
 side, in the one 
 as eye in adap- 
 tation to the 
 rays of light, 
 and in the other 
 as ear, under 
 the influence 
 of the waves of 
 sound. 
 
 What an enormous distance from a worm like this 
 unto man, who in his complicated nervous system con- 
 tains hundreds and thousands of such minute gang- 
 
 TURBELLARIA, ACCORDING TO H/ECKEL. 
 
 g, Ganglion. 
 
 s, Sensory fibres. 
 m, Motory fibres. 
 
 t, Tentacles (feelers). 
 a, Eye. 
 
 o, Ear. 
 h, Skin. 
 
 f, A layer of muscles. 
 w, Cilias covering the 
 skin. 
 
ANIMALS AND PLANTS. 
 
 75 
 
 lion-systems, partly coordinated and partly subor- 
 dinated in a rich and systematic arrangement ! 
 
 If comparative 
 physiology hasnot as 
 yet succeeded in dis- 
 covering all the 
 many millions of 
 links from the 
 amoeba up to man, 
 what does it matter? 
 The evolution of man 
 from a lowly origin 
 can no longer be re- 
 jected if we consider 
 that cont-inuity is 
 throughout the char- 
 acteristic feature of 
 life. Man represents 
 life from the very be- 
 ginning of life and 
 what he is he is 
 through the history 
 of his race. 
 
 That man has risen 
 from a low beginning 
 to that height, is not 
 humiliating to h i m 
 but elevating; it 
 proves that he may 
 
 THE NERVOUS SYSTEM OF MAN. 
 
 a, Brain. 
 
 b, Cerebellum. 
 
 c, Spinal cord. 
 
 d, Facial nerve. 
 
 e, Brachial plexus. 
 
 f, Internal cutaneous nerve of the arm. 
 
 f, Mesial nerve of the arm. 
 , Cubital or ulnar nerve. 
 
 i, Sciatic plexus, giving rise to the prin- ,,,-_ .:, f~ rUwol, 
 ciple nerves of the lower extremities. Continue tO develop 
 /, Intercostal nerves. i _ i &-. + ~ ~ 
 k, Femural plexus. nis soul GVCn t O a 
 /, Radial nerve of the arm. ^ and nobler 
 
 External peroneal nerve. 
 , /, Tibial nerve. 
 
 o, External sapheneous nerve. 
 
 greater 
 future. 
 
FEELING AS A PHYSIOLOGICAL PROCESS. 
 
 In the first chapter of this book "Feeling and 
 Motion," the question was proposed : " What is the 
 molecular combination that is accompanied with feel- 
 ing, and what is its mode of action ? " 
 
 This question is not as yet answered by physiology. 
 It is a problem still, and we are far from a solution 
 that would be satisfactory in all its details. We know 
 something. about the subject, but that something is 
 very little in comparison to what our physiologists 
 would like to know. 
 
 The ganglions are for good reasons supposed to 
 be the seat of feeling ; yet it must not be understood 
 that feeling is created there alone. It is there alone 
 that feeling is centralized. It appears that the sen- 
 sory organs with their natural covering, the skin, also 
 belong to the whole feeling apparatus. Every one 
 of them is an indispensable part for the production of 
 normal feelings. If anyone of these parts is injured, 
 feeling will either cease altogether or at least be dis- 
 turbed. If, for instance, the tactile bodies (the Pa- 
 cinian corpuscles) are not covered with skin, irrita- 
 tions will no longer be felt as tactile impressions, but 
 as pain. 
 
 The process of a nervous transmission is extremely 
 complicated, and our observation is limited to its 
 crudest outlines only. We know, however, that the 
 transmission through the ganglions must be even more 
 
THE PROCESS OF FEELING. 77 
 
 complicated than the transmission through the fibres, 
 for according to minute measurements by Helmholtz, 
 a nervous shock travels through the human nerve 
 fibre at an average rate of 30-40 metres in a sec- 
 ond, but it is much retarded on its passage through 
 
 the ganglions. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Du Bois Reymond has proved that every trans- 
 mission of nervous irritations is accompanied with 
 electrical phenomena. The apparatus connected with 
 the nerve for measuring the electric tension shows a 
 decrease of the strength of the current during a state 
 of nervous activity. This was called by Du Bois Rey- 
 mond negative Schwankung, "negative fluctuation." 
 
 The negative fluctuation of the electric tension, it 
 may be incidentally mentioned, is not at all a phe- 
 nomenon of nervous activity alone. Du Bois Rey- 
 mond's law holds good for muscular fibres also. In 
 a state of rest, the living muscle, like the nerve, shows 
 in the galvanometer the presence of a low and con- 
 stant current, which in a state of activity noticeably 
 decreases, proving that that much electricity is being 
 used in other directions. 
 
 The nervous system is often, and not without good 
 and obvious reasons, represented as a telegraphic ap- 
 paratus. The method of transmission also has re- 
 peatedly been compared to our modern system of 
 telegraphing through electric currents. The won- 
 derful achievements which man accomplished with 
 the help of electricity, seemed to suggest that ner- 
 vous transmission might be of an electrical nature. 
 Since the discovery, however, made by Du Bois Rey- 
 mond, we know for certain that this is an error. Ner- 
 vous transmissions are accompanied by electrical phe- 
 
78 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 nomena, yet they cannot be explained as such. This 
 is evident even from the different rate of transmission ; 
 electricity travels, according to Wheatstone, 464,000, 
 ooo metres in one second, while the velocity of ner- 
 vous irritations, in spite of all the fabulous swiftness 
 of thought,is more than ten million times slower ; and if 
 nerve-activity is to be regarded as electrical action, how 
 can it differ from muscular activity which exhibits the 
 very same electrical phenomena ? Neither can the 
 nerve-fibres be compared to the wires of a telegraph, 
 which are transmitters simply of the electric current ; 
 for every single nerve-cell in a nervous fibre, and also 
 every cell in the muscular fibre, is in itself a small 
 electric battery. The whole process of nervous trans- 
 mission may rather be compared to a number of 
 small explosions transmitted over a line of grains of 
 powder. An irritation, i. e., an impression received 
 by some contact with the outer world in a sensory 
 organ, being transmitted through the sensory fibre to 
 the ganglion, and from the ganglion through the 
 motor fibre to a muscle, causes along the whole tract 
 of its transmission a continuous discharge of potential 
 energy stored up in the nervous substance. The 
 transmission being accompanied with many other 
 phenomena, ends in an innervation of the muscle which 
 forms the terminus of the motor nerve. This inner- 
 vation is the nervous discharge that causes the muscle 
 
 to contract and thus produces mechanical motion. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Let us for the sake of illustration represent the 
 nerves as a series of compressed springs, so arranged 
 that if one is released it will at the same time release 
 the next following ; thus any disturbance will travel 
 from^ne to the other along the whole series. The 
 
THE PROCESS OF FEELING. 79 
 
 organism is constantly at work to repair the losses in- 
 curred. As soon as potential energy is set free, new 
 structures are built by the circulating fluids freighted 
 with vitalized substances. Thus by the activity of 
 the blood, to return again to our simile, the dis- 
 charged springs of the nervous system are again and 
 again compressed, and thus they are, unless the ex- 
 haustion be carried too far, always ready for action. 
 
 If a shock is transmitted, the effects produced de- 
 pend first upon the shock itself. The more violent a 
 shock is the more sudden will the disturbance be. 
 And if a shock covers a larger field of the skin, it 
 must necessarily irritate a larger number of nerve- 
 fibres, thus producing a greater excitement than if 
 two or three nerve-fibres were disturbed only. Yet the 
 main determining factor of the effect, it appears, is 
 the specific energy (as Johannes Miiller called it) of 
 the nervous substance in the nerve as well as in the 
 ganglion. Similarly, if a shock is transmitted through 
 a series of springs, the effect will depend upon the 
 springs chiefly upon their form and their tension ; 
 form and tension are the " specific energy "of the 
 springs. The different nerves became adapted to 
 special irritations. The optic nerve became adapted 
 to the ether waves ; their irritations are transferred to 
 the optic ganglions, and there possibly the disturbance 
 is accompanied with a feeling called light. The auditory 
 nerve became adapted to air waves ; this irritation 
 is transmitted to the auditory ganglion, and there 
 possibly it is accompanied with a feeling called sound ; 
 etc. By a constant and exclusive use for their special- 
 ized purposes through many thousands of genera- 
 tions, the tissues became so adapted to their special 
 work, that now they cannot otherwise react against 
 
8o THE, SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 any kind of irritation than as sensations, the one of 
 light and the other of sound. Any disturbance, a ray 
 of light as well as an electric current, or a mechanical 
 concussion, will produce sensations of light on the 
 optic nerve, and sensations of sound in the auditory 
 nerve. The same causes will produce sensations of 
 smell in the olfactory nerve, and sensations of touch 
 or of temperature in the sensory nerves that terminate 
 in the skin.* 
 
 The feeling which originates in the ganglion, dur- 
 ing the transmission of a nervous perturbation, can 
 depend upon the forms only of the different cells. A 
 certain shock is received which sets free a series of 
 tensions ; the liberation of some of these tensions in 
 the ganglion is a commotion of sensory cells, accom- 
 panied by feeling. It is called a sensation. The 
 course of motions nowhere ceases to consist of mo- 
 tions. We have a continuous transference of motions, 
 yet some of these motions are accompanied with feel- 
 ing. These feelings are different among themselves, 
 and we have sufficient evidence to believe that their 
 difference exactly corresponds to the different forms 
 of nervous action which they accompany. We may, 
 accordingly, without impropriety, speak in this sense 
 of the different forms of feelings. 
 
 Suppose we had before us a line of cards arranged 
 in pairs leaning one against the other, in such a 
 manner that a slight shock will upset the whole 
 series ; a simile often employed to explain the trans- 
 ference of nervous shocks. At a certain point, in 
 about the middle of the line, let us suppose that a 
 bell is fixed, the tongue of which strikes the bell upon 
 
 * Compare E. Hering, "The Specific Energies of the Nervous System," 
 Nos. 22 and 23 of The Open Court. 
 
THE PROCESS OF FEELING. 81 
 
 the overthrow of the two adjoining cards. At the 
 end of the line, upon the two last pairs of cards, 
 stands a small vessel filled with water. Upon the over- 
 throw of the cards the water is spilt. The striking of 
 the bell represents sensation,* the spilling of the water 
 muscle-innervation. The striking of the bell is not 
 changed into a spilling of water : the former only pre- 
 cedes the latter in time. If a nerve is irritated below 
 the ganglion, a muscle-innervation takes place with- 
 out sensation, with the same necessity as the water is 
 spilt without any previous sounding of the bell, when 
 the cards below the bell only have been upset. But 
 when the motor nerve is cut, and the sensory nerve 
 is irritated alone, then sensation only occurs, without 
 any reflex muscular motion, just as a perturbation of 
 the upper line of cards will make the bell sound, but if 
 the line below the bell is interrupted, it will not cause 
 the spilling of the water. 
 
 The mechanical connection of causes and effects 
 need not be interrupted, if that part of the transmit- 
 tance of nervous irritations which takes place in the 
 ganglion is so disturbed as to produce no actual feeling. 
 
 * The simile is in so far inadequate as the striking of the bell and the 
 air vibrations of sound are motions also. Feeling, however, is no motion, 
 and does not originate from a transformation of either potential or kinetic 
 energy. 
 
 Some psychologists compare the phenomenon of feeling to the shadow 
 which accompanies the motions of a body. But a shadow is the absence 
 of light and light again is a mode of motion. Feeling is no motion, nor is it the 
 disappearance of motions. Other psychologists have compared conscious- 
 ness to the sparks that an engine emits with the smoke. Sparks also, being 
 little particles of fire, are modes of motion. Thus these similes are also 
 inadequate. 
 
 It will be difficult, if at all possible, to find an appropriate simile, and 
 why? Because, whatever allegory we take from the processes of the objec- 
 tive world, we constantly remain in the province of objectivity. Whatever un- 
 speakable difference there may be between two processes of objective phenom- 
 ena, they belong to the same domain ; while the domain of subjective reality 
 or feeling, in spite of the parallelism between both, is so heterogeneous that it 
 suffers no comparison. 
 
82 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Suppose the bell be covered with a woolen cloth, 
 will not then the phenomenon of sound that accom- 
 panies the process cease altogether, although other- 
 wise there is nothing changed in the mechanism of the 
 transmission ? And when, through alcoholic poison- 
 ing, through medical drugs (anaesthetics), or through 
 any nervous disturbance, consciousness is for a time 
 obliterated, may not a man under certain circum- 
 stances act exactly as if he were in full possession of 
 consciousness? Does not often an intoxicated man 
 or a hypnotized subject move about and talk like other 
 people, and yet he knows nothing and afterwards he 
 will remember nothing of all that happened ? 
 
 The concatenation of circumstances is such that 
 we are easily misled to suppose that when the cards 
 are overthrown the striking of the bell causes the spill- 
 ing of the water, and that consciousness sets the 
 muscles in motion. On this supposition only, which 
 takes a post hoc as a propter hoc, i. e., a mere se- 
 quence as a causal connection, is based the assump- 
 tion that consciousness is the motor power, the pri- 
 mum movens, of the soul ; the cause, the principium, 
 and beginning of man's muscular movements, the ori- 
 gin and source of his activity. However, conscious- 
 ness does not produce the activity of our body. Con- 
 sciousness, as M. Ribot says, does not constitute the 
 situation ; on the contrary, it is constituted by the situ- 
 ation. Consciousness is an indicator only of a certain 
 condition of our nerve-activity. It is not the cause of 
 a man's will, but it is the expression of a certain state 
 of mind, which, under normal conditions, will be fol- 
 lowed by an act of will, be it a real muscular motion, 
 a spoken word, which of course is muscular motion 
 also, or the inhibition of a motion. 
 
THE PROCESS OF FEELING. 83 
 
 Every idea considered not as a mere feeling but as 
 a brain-structure fit to serve as an irritation to ac- 
 tion (we call such ideas impulses), will, if not in- 
 hibited, pass into an act, whether it be connected with 
 consciousness or not. Consciousness itself is not the 
 motion that causes the transmission of nervous irrita- 
 tions, it is not the agency that discharges the inner- 
 vation for contracting the muscles. It is a phenome- 
 non that merely accompanies the physiological pro- 
 cess of a nervous transmission through the ganglion. 
 
 It is not the shadow that makes our body move ; 
 it is the body that moves ; and the shadow accom- 
 panies the movement. It is not the ticking of the 
 pendulum that sets the wheels of the clock in mo- 
 tion, but the swinging. The motion of the clock is 
 produced by the pressure of the weight which is trans- 
 ferred to the pendulum in the form of vibrations. 
 The motion of our limbs is caused through the trans- 
 mission of a nervous perturbation, setting free a 
 part of the potential energy stored up in our motor 
 nerves and in our muscles ; but there is, properly 
 speaking, no change of ' ' consciousness " into "will," 
 no change of "feeling" into "motion." 
 
 When we compare consciousness to the ticking of 
 a pendulum, we do not wish to maintain that con- 
 sciousness is as superfluous and indifferent as the tick- 
 ing of a pendulum. We merely express in this simile 
 that it is destitute of motor power. Although con- 
 sciousness is destitute of motor power, it is neverthe- 
 less of paramount importance. There is nothing re- 
 dundant in nature ; how can consciousness be a su- 
 perfluous factor in the constitution of man's mind ? 
 
 Consciousness may be compared to a light. It af- 
 fords in novel and difficult situations the possibility of 
 
84 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 circumspection. The light in a machine room will en- 
 able the attendant engineer properly to regulate the 
 motions of the engine ; but the rays of the lantern 
 have no locomotive power upon the wheels and piston, 
 so as to set the engine into action. If the engineer 
 is a novice, he cannot do his work without light, but 
 the expert knows how to direct the lever even in the 
 dark. The consciousness of mental states is an indis- 
 pensable condition of the proper direction of will, but 
 it does not possess motor power. 
 
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM OF WORMS, RADIATES, 
 AND ARTICULATES. 
 
 THE simplest nervous system consists of a single 
 ganglion with afferent and efferent fibres. Its action 
 is represented in the adjoined diagram. The sensory 
 irritation is transmitted as a primitive reflex motion 
 from the skin, or the sensory organs in the 
 skin ($!/), through the ganglion (G) to the 
 muscles {MM}, thus starting from and re- 
 turning to the periphery ; and we have rea- 
 son to suppose that the transmission of this 
 nervous irritation is accompanied in the ganglion by 
 an extremely vague kind of feeling. 
 
 A ganglion constituting the centre of so simple a 
 nervous system as is for instance that of the whirl- 
 worm, is called a primitive brain. 
 
86 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Not much more complicated are the nervous sys- 
 tems of Radiates, whose organs are arranged in a circle 
 like the parts of a flower. The starfishes belong to 
 this class ; they may be regarded as five worms having 
 
 a mouth and a digestive 
 organ in common. Each 
 arm possesses a small 
 ganglion (i) near the 
 mouth. The five gang- 
 lions are interconnected 
 by a ring (2) around the 
 mouth ; and a nervous 
 fibre passes along on the 
 lower or ven t r a 1 side 
 from each gang lion to 
 the end of each of the 
 several arms. 
 
 Mollusk life is char- 
 acterized by a strong de- 
 velopment of the vege- 
 tative functions. Mol- 
 lusks are mere bags 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF A STARFISH. 
 
 (The rays are cutoff.) 
 
 1. Ganglions. 
 
 2. Connecting fibres, encircling 
 the mouth and establishing a com- 
 munication among the five gang- 
 lions. 
 
 3. Nervous fibres running along 
 lower surface to the ends of the rays 
 
 containing organs of digestion, respiration, circu- 
 lation, and generation. Ascidians (or pouch-creatures) 
 and Conchs (or shells) have no head whatever ; they 
 lead a mere vegetative life. Conchs are now regarded 
 as degenerated snails. Snails are in possession of a 
 feebly developed head with eyes, tentacles, mouth, 
 jaws, and a tongue. The ventral part of the body, 
 the foot of the snail, is its sole organ of locomotion ; 
 it consists of a contractile layer of muscular fibres. 
 The highest developed mollusks are the Cephalopods, 
 or head-footed creatures, possessing a circle of organs 
 of locomotion (we may call them arms or feet) about 
 
WORMS, RADIA TES, ARTICULA TES. 87 
 
 their mouth. Such creatures are the cuttle-fish, or 
 Sepia, and the Nautilus. 
 
 The most characteristic feature of the nervous sys- 
 tem of Mollusks (as represented in the snail) is the 
 cesophagean ring, surrounding the gullet. There are 
 ganglionic knots at the upper and at the lower part of 
 the ring. The upper part is a primitive brain, receiv- 
 ing sensory fibres from the tentacles, etc., while the 
 lower part acts as the centre of the respiratory and lo- 
 comotive functions. The lower ganglion is often dif- 
 ferentiated into two distinct parts, and in that case the 
 cesophagean ring appears double ; the anterior ring 
 connecting the brain with the pedal ganglion for loco- 
 motion, the posterior with the branchial ganglion for 
 respiration. 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEMS OF 
 
 A. Common Sandhopper. (Talitrus locusta.} Showing (on the right side) 
 two separate cerebral ganglia, each about the same size as the other ganglia 
 situated below it on the separate ventral chords. (After Grant.) 
 
 B. Cymothoa. (Fish-louse.) Cerebral ganglia (on the right side) almost 
 wholly absent from cesophagean ring. 
 
 C. Crab. (Palinurus vulgaris.} The cerebral ganglia (on the right side) 
 receiving the optic, tactile, and other nerves, are fused into one. The oesoph- 
 agean ring elongated ; the ventral ganglion strongly developed. 
 
 The nervous system of Articulates consists of a 
 series of ganglions, situated below the intestinal canal 
 
88 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 and interconnected by a nervous fibre. In addition to 
 this series of ganglions the front segment or head pos- 
 sesses an resophagean ring, similar to that of Mollusks, 
 bearing at its upper part the head- ganglion or primi- 
 tive brain. 
 
 The single ganglions of Articulates, being situated 
 in the various separate segments, are endowed with an 
 extraordinary independence. They act not so much 
 in subordination to as in co-operation with the front 
 ganglion. For instance. If the head of a centipede 
 
 WHITE ANT (Termes), WATERBEETLE (Dytiscus}, FLY (Musca). 
 
 (From Gegenbauer. After Blanchard.) 
 gs. Supra-cesophagean ganglion (brain). 
 gi. Infra-cesophagean ganglion. 
 gr-i S 2 > S3- Thoracic ganglions (partly fused). 
 o. Optic nerves. 
 
 be quickly cut off while the creature is in motion, the 
 legs will mechanically continue to run on until they are 
 brought to a stop by some interposed obstacle. The 
 
WORMS, RA DIA TES, A R TICULA TES. 89 
 
 CATERPILLAR, CHRYSALIS, AND PERFECT INSECT OF HAWK-MOTH (Sphin 
 
 The first figure shows the full grown caterpillar .about two days before 
 changing to a chrysalis. It resembles much the nervous system of the Centipede. 
 The two cerebral ganglions are small, and the ganglions in the ventral cord 
 (i-io) are almost uniform. The nerves of the head (ab) are weakly, those of 
 the other fibres (c-n) fairly, developed. 
 
 The middle figure represents the chrysalis of the same creature 30 days 
 after the change from a caterpillar. The abdominal chords are much short- 
 ened, some of its ganglia fuse. 
 
 The third figure shows the perfected insect. 
 
 A, Cerebral ganglion. 
 
 B. Optic ganglion. 
 
 Note the increased size of the cerebral ganglion and of some parts of the 
 ventral cord; while some parts are concentrated or even suppressed. 
 O. Respiratory nerves. 
 
THE SGUL OF MAN. 
 
 i 
 g 
 
 
 g 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF THE GREAT GREEN GRAS- 
 
 HOPPER. (After Newport.) 
 
 A. Cerebral ganglion. 
 
 B. Optic nerves. 
 
 D. Antennal nerves. 
 
 d. Motor nerves of mandible, from sub-ceso- 
 phagean ganglion. 
 
 e. Fibres connecting the sub-oasophsgean 
 with the first thoracic ganglion. 
 
 g. First thoracic ganglion. 
 
 h. Commissures connecting thoracic ganglia. 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEM OFMEDICAL 
 
 LEECH. (After Owen.) 
 
 a Double supr a-ceso- 
 phagean ganglion con- 
 nected with : 
 
 bb nerves ending in rudi- 
 mentary ocelli ; 
 
 c infra - cesophagean 
 ganglion, continuous with a 
 double ventral chord bear- 
 ing at intervals distinct com- 
 pound ganglia. 
 
WORMS, RAD I A TS, AR TICULA TES. 91 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF AN OYSTER. 
 
 (Todd. After Garner.) 
 
 aa. Anterior ganglia ; being 
 situated on each side of the 
 mouth, interconnected by a fibre 
 over-arching the mouth. 
 
 II. Labial fibres. 
 
 /. Posterior or branchial 
 ganglion (double, for respira- 
 tion). 
 
 bb. Branchial nerves going to 
 the gills (ff.) 
 
 cc. Commissures between lab- 
 ial and branchial ganglia. 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF THE* COMMON 
 
 GARDEN SNAIL. (After Owen.) 
 /. Cerebral ganglion, situated 
 above the oesophagus, receiving 
 nerves from the tentacles. 
 . Small tentacle withdrawn. 
 
 b. Large tentacle with eyes (ocelli). 
 
 c. Large tentacle withdrawn. 
 
 d. Small tentacle. 
 
 f. Nerve fibre of large tentacle. 
 
 k. Nerve fibre of small tentacle. 
 
 /. Cerebral ganglion situated 
 above the oesophagus, receiving 
 nerves from tentacles. 
 
 M. Sub-cesophagean ganglion, a 
 double mass, representing a pair of 
 pedal and a pair of branchial 
 ganglia. 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF THE COM- 
 MON SLUG. 
 
 (The naked common garden 
 
 snail ; one of the nudi- 
 
 branch mollusks.) 
 
 A, A. Cerebral ganglia. 
 
 B, B. Branchial ganglia. 
 D. Pharyngeal ganglia. 
 
THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Nautile 
 
 PEARLY NA 
 
 (After Owen. Reproduced from 
 
 1. Cerebral ganglion. 
 
 2. Optic nerve. 
 
 3. Anterior sub-cesophagean gang- 
 lion. 
 
 4. Posterior sub-cesophagean gang- 
 lion. 
 
 5. Digital tentacles. 
 
 6. Nerves of external labial ten- 
 tacles. 
 
 7. Commissural fibres between 8 
 and 3. 
 
 UTILUS. 
 Fr. Leuret and P. Gratiolet.) 
 
 8. Labial ganglion. 
 
 9. Nerves of internal labial ten- 
 tacles. 
 
 10. Olfactive nerves. 
 
 11. Infundibular nerves. 
 
 12 Lingual and maxillary nerve. 
 
 13. Motor nerves. 
 
 14. Visceral nerves. 
 
 15. Branchial nerves. 
 
 16. Visceral ganglions. 
 
WORMS, RAD I A TES, AR TICULA TES. 93 
 
 ganglions of the various segments, it appears, have 
 not as yet received information respecting the loss of 
 their leader. Similarly, flies, after decapitation, will 
 fly about and execute all kinds of motions, like their 
 uninjured companions. 
 
 The Articulates (according to Haeckel) consist of 
 three classes : (i) Annellata, or ringed worms for 
 instance, earth worms and leeches \ (2) Crustacea, or 
 crust-animals for instance, crabs and lobsters ; and 
 (3) Tracheata, or wind-pipe animals, so called by 
 Haeckel because they breathe through small tubes. 
 The most important Tracheates are the myriapods, or 
 thousand-legs, the spiders, and the insects. The ner- 
 vous systems of the best known specimens of these 
 three classes may be studied in the prefixed diagrams. 
 
THE CONNECTING LINK BETWEEN THE IN- 
 VERTEBRATES AND THE VERTEBRATES. 
 
 PROFESSOR ERNST H^CKEL* in explaining the evolu- 
 tion of Vertebrates calls our attention to the import- 
 ance of Amphioxus lanceolatus, a little fish about 
 two inches long, shaped like a lancet, and living, 
 mostly hidden in the sand, in shallow places of the 
 Mediterranean, the Baltic, and the North Sea. It has 
 no head, no cranium, no brain. The front part is dis- 
 tinguishable from the hind part almost solely by the 
 presence of the mouth surrounded by a number of 
 cilia ; and yet the Lanceolate belongs to the aristocratic 
 class of Vertebrates : it possesses a spinal cord. The 
 Lanceolate, accordingly, is the last surviving represen- 
 tative of the lowliest family among the Vertebrates. 
 
 AMPHIOXUS LANCEOLATUS. 
 
 Pallas, the first discoverer of the Lanceolate, did 
 not at once recognize the importance of his find. He 
 considered it as a kind of imperfect snail. Yet the pre- 
 sence of a chorda dorsalis, i. e. of a cartilaginous string 
 forming the axis of the skeleton, and the medulla spwalis 
 
 *NatUrliche Schopfungsgeschichte, Chap. 24. 
 
VER TEBRA TE-INVER TEBRA TE LINK. 95 
 
 (spinal cord), fix the relation of this little fish beyond 
 all doubt. Kowalewsky and Kupffer, moreover, have 
 proved, that to a certain degree the ontogeny of the 
 Lanceolate corresponds in all particulars on the one 
 hand with that of the lower Vertebrates and on the 
 other with that of the Ascidians. Thus we can con- 
 sider it as an established truth that the Lanceolate is 
 the connecting link between the Invertebrates and the 
 
 Vertebrates. 
 
 Leuckart and Pagenstecher discovered in the front 
 part of the spinal cord of the Amphioxus (see Miiller's 
 Archiv, 1858, p. 561) a small vesicle, which represents 
 a primitive brain if brain it can be called. However, 
 whether this vesicle represents the initial state of 
 all three bulbs that appear in a higher development 
 (as W. Miiller says), or whether it represents the 
 third bulb only (as Mihalkovics says), or whether it 
 corresponds (as Huxley says) to the thalamencephalon, 
 i. e., the second bulb, is still an unsettled question. 
 It is not improbable that the Amphioxus which we are 
 acquainted with, is a degenerated form of that creature 
 from which the higher vertebrates have developed. 
 
 In the adjoined plates Professor Haeckel com- 
 pares the development of a mollusk, like the Ascidian 
 (A), with Amphioxus lane eolatus (B). How small are the 
 differences in the beginning ! And yet they were destined 
 to keep the one creature in its humble condition of a 
 mere vegetative existence, while the other in the course 
 of further evolution was enabled to gain dominion 
 over the whole creation of the earth. 
 
96 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
VER TRBRA TE-1NVER TRBRA TE LINK. 97 
 
THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 EXPLANATION OF THE PRECEDING PLATES. 
 
 The skin of both creatures being transparent, their inner organization is 
 plainly visible. 
 
 The Dot in the front part of the Amphioxus is a rudimentary eye. 
 
 The Ascidian A 6 is firmly attached to the soil by root-like processes (w), 
 as if it were a plant. The adult Amphioxus however moves about like a fish 
 
 a. Mouth. 
 
 b. Porus abdominalis. 
 
 c. Chorda dorsalis (appears only in the Lanceolate.) 
 
 d. Intestinal canal. 
 
 e. Ovary \ 
 
 , r appears only in the Ascidian. 
 
 f. Ovarean duct ' 
 
 g. Spinal cord (medulla dorsalis.) 
 h. Heart. 
 
 i. Vermiform appendix, 
 k. Gills. 
 
 1. Cavity of the body, 
 m. Muscles, 
 
 n. Testicles (the Ascidian being hermaphroditic, the testicles combined 
 with the ovary), 
 o. Anus. 
 
 p. Sexual aperture, 
 q. Mature embryos of the Ascidian. 
 r. Dorsal fins, 
 s. Tail of the Lanceolate, 
 w. Roots of the Ascidian. 
 
 A. The egg of the Ascidian. 
 
 B. The egg of the Lanceolate. 
 Z. Protoplasma of the egg. 
 
 Y. Nucleus. 
 X. Nucleolus. 
 
 Aa, 62, AS, BS, etc., the successive stages in the development of the eggs 
 After a repeated division, the germ forms a globule of many cells (called 
 Morula) the surface of which in one part sinks down so as to present almost 
 the shape of an india-rubber ball from which the air is removed. Thus a 
 gastrula is formed (A4, 64). 
 di ' . Primitive abdomen. 
 d.4. Primitive mouth. 
 
 d2. Entoderm, inner membrane or abdominal wall. 
 /. Cavity of the germ. 
 t. ectoderm, outside skin. 
 A^. The Larva of the Ascidian. 
 BS. The Larva of the Amphioxus. 
 di. The abdomen is closed. 
 d2. The dorsal part is concave. 
 d$. The ventral part is convex. 
 
 gi. The medullar cavity (in the Amphioxus the primitive spinal cord). 
 g2. The orifice of the medullar cavity, not as yet closed. 
 d. Chorda dorsalis, in the Amphioxus the axis of the primitive back- 
 boned In the Larva of the Ascidian the chorda dorsalis forms a tail which is 
 thrown off during its metamorphosis. Those Ascidians which do not become 
 stationary, retain their tails. 
 
NERVOUS SYSTEM OF THE VERTEBRATES. 
 
 THERE are several differences of radical importance 
 between Amphioxus lanceolatus and the higher Ver- 
 tebrates ; yet besides that of the absence of brain 
 and cranium in the former, there is no greater disparity 
 than in the arterial system of blood-circulation. The 
 Acrania (the Vertebrates without cranium, represented 
 by the Lanceolate) have no proper hearts ; their hearts 
 are mere arterial tubes, while the Craniata (the Ver- 
 tebrates with a cranium) are throughout endowed with 
 a regular heart, which, engine-like, drives the arterial 
 blood through the whole system. 
 
 The nervous systems of all the Vertebrates are 
 greatly different from those of the Invertebrates. There 
 is no resophagean ring encircling the gullet ; and in- 
 stead of isolated ganglia, we have one continuous 
 column which is no longer below but far above the in- 
 testinal canal. This column is protected by bony 
 covers (the vertebrae) which constitute a flexible yet 
 strong backbone. The foremost ganglia together with 
 their vertebral cases are transformed into brain and 
 cranium ; but the hemispheres and their bony cover, 
 the top of the head, are an additional growth, which 
 has developed out of the first vertebra.* 
 
 *Gegenbauer, Untersuchungen zur Vergleichenden Anatomic der Wir- 
 belthiere. Part. Ill, das Kopfskelett der Selachier als Grundlage zur Beu rthei 
 lung der Genese des Kopfskeletts der Wirbelthiere. Leipzig : 1872. 
 
ioo THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The most prominent divisions of the nervous sys- 
 tem in the Vertebrates, i. e., in Fishes, Reptiles, Birds, 
 and Mammals, are : 
 
 1. The Spinal Cord; 
 
 2. The Bulb (Medulla Oblongata]\ 
 
 3. The Small Brain (Cerebellum}; 
 
 4. The Bridge (pons Varolii)', 
 
 5. The Optic Lobes ; and 
 
 6. The Thalami Optici. 
 
 (The Optic Lobes are of greater importance in the 
 lower Vertebrates ; they are called in the physiology 
 of man the Four Hills (corpora quadrigemina). The 
 Thalamus remains entirely undeveloped in the lower 
 vertebrates. The Optic Lobes not showing in lower 
 vertebrates, as in man, Four Hills, but only two, are 
 sometimes called Corpora bigemina, or the Two Hills.) 
 
 7. The Striped Body (Corpus Striatum). 
 
 8. The Hemispheres, or brain proper (Cerebrum). 
 The following chapters will be devoted to the phy- 
 siology of these divisions in the brain of man. 
 
 As the most representative examples of the various 
 Vertebrates we select a number of diagrams of the 
 brains of fishes, amphibians, birds, and mammals. 
 
NERVE-SYSTEM OF VERTEBRATA. 101 
 
 BRAIN OF A PERCH. (Gegenbauer, after Cuvier.) 
 
 A. Cranial lobe with olfactory ganglion (/). 
 
 B. Optic lobe. 
 
 C. Cerebellum. 
 
 D. Medulla oblongata. 
 
 /. Olfactory nerve. 
 a. Nasal sac. 
 //. Optic nerve, severed. 
 ///. Oculo-motor nerve. 
 IV. Trochlear nerve. 
 
 V. Trigeminal. 
 VII. Auditory. 
 
 VIII. Vagus with its ganglion g. 
 kl. Branches of vagus. 
 
 m. Dorsal branch of trigeminus in connection with n. 
 11. Dorsal branch of vagus. 
 afiy. The three branches of the trigeminus V. 
 de. Facial nerve. 
 % Branches of the vagus. 
 
102 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 BRAIN OF A PIKE AND OF A SHARK. (After Leuret and Gratiolet.) 
 tc. Cerebral tubercles (lobes). 
 to. Optic tubercles (lobes). 
 te. Ethmoid or olfactory tubercle. 
 tv. Vagus tubercle. The ganglion of the vagus nerve. 
 
 c. Cerebellum. 
 
 e. Olfactory nerves. 
 
 o. Optic nerves. 
 /. Pathetic nerve. 
 m. Oculo-motor nerve. 
 a. Abducent nerve. 
 
 /. Trifacial nerve. 
 f. Facial nerve. 
 
 /. Labyrinthic nerve. 
 
 v. Vagus or branchial nerve. 
 
NERVE-SYSTEM OF VERTEBRATA. 103 
 
 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF FROG, VENTRAL SIDE. (After Ecker.) 
 
 H. Hemispheres. 
 Lop. Optic Lobes. 
 M. Medulla. 
 Mi.-Mio. Spinal 
 
 nerves. 
 S. Sympathetic 
 
 nerve. 
 Sf.-Sfo. Ganglia of 
 
 the Sympathetic.' 
 MS. Branches c o n- 
 
 necting spinal cord 
 
 and sympathetic. 
 No. Femoral nerve. 
 Ni. Sciatic nerve. 
 I-X. Cranial nerves. 
 /. Olfactory. 
 //. Optic nerve with 
 
 (o) eye. 
 ///. Oculo-motor. 
 
 IV. Trochlear. 
 
 V. Trigeminal. 
 
 VI. Abducent. 
 
 VII. and F. Facial. 
 VIIL Auditory. 
 
 IX. Glossopharyn- 
 geal. 
 
 X. Vagus. 
 
 Vg. Gasserian Gang- 
 lion (of fifth nerve). 
 
 V^. Connect ion of 
 Gasserian ganglion 
 with the S y m p a- 
 thetic. 
 
 F. Facial nerve. 
 
 G. Ganglion of the 
 Vagus. 
 
 Xi-X4. Branches of 
 the Vagus. 
 
104 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 BRAIN OF THE BOA CONSTRICTOR. (After Swan, reproduced from Bastian.) 
 
 Cerebral lobes. 
 
 Optic lobes. 
 
 Cerebellum. 
 
 Membrane of the nose. 
 
 Olfactory nerve. 
 
 Optic nerve.' 
 
 Third nerve, i. e. main 
 
 oculo-motor. 
 Fourth nerve or troch- 
 
 lear to the superior 
 
 oblique muscle of the 
 
 eye. 
 
 Fifth nerve. 
 Sixth nerve. 
 Seventh nerve. 
 Eighth nerve. 
 Auditory nerve. 
 Glosso - p h a r y n g e a 1 
 
 nerve. 
 
 Trunk of vagus nerve. 
 Twelfth nerve. 
 A sympathetic g a n g- 
 
 lion. 
 
 CUCKOO. OWL. 
 
 (After Leuret and Gratiolet.) 
 
NERVE-SYSTEM OF VERTEBRATA. 105 
 
 BRAINS OF EOCENE MAMMALS. (From Wiedersheim, after Marsh.) 
 
 A. Tillotherium fodiens. 
 
 B. Brontotherium ingens. 
 
 C. Coryphodon hamatus. 
 D. Dinoceras mirabile. 
 
 ' . \ view of the brain of Dinoceras mirabile (from a cast). 
 
 H. Hemispheres. 
 
 Note the enormous size of the skull in comparison with a relatively small 
 brain. The olfactory lobes are strongly developed. 
 
 (After Leuret and Gratiolet.) 
 
io6 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 BRAIN OF A MAN. 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE BRAIN. 
 
 The nervous system originates as a hollow tube 
 formed by a very thin film. At an early stage of its 
 development, the upper end (as seen in the adjoined 
 figure) bulges out into three continuous bulbs. The 
 first is to be the fore brain, the second the mid brain, 
 and the third the hind brain. 
 
 EARLY STAGE OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM IN THE DIFFERENTIATION OF THE 
 
 EMBRYO. (From Wiedersheim.) 
 
 (BD.} Blastoderm. 
 (KS.) Germinal 
 
 Disc. 
 KA.} Wall of the 
 
 body. 
 (/?.) Medullary 
 
 cord. 
 (G.) Brain. 
 
 In the further evolution of the embryo we observe 
 excrescences on each side of the fore brain. The pas- 
 
io8 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 JT. 
 
 o. 
 
 SAGITTAL SECTIONS REPRESENTING FIVE STAGES OF CEREBRAL DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 F. Fore brain. 
 /. Intermediate brain. 
 M. Mid brain. 
 H. Hind brain. 
 A. After brain. 
 h. Hemispheres. 
 hp. Hypophysis. 
 p.gl. Pineal gland or epiphysis. 
 inf. Infundibulum. 
 cs. Corpus striatum. 
 th. Thalamus (represented by a dotted line, because growing oat from 
 
 the side walls it does not appear in a sagittal section). 
 In a further development m sinks down to #2.2, as indicated by the dotted 
 line m, mz. Thus the corpus striatum is placed alongside the thalamus and 
 the latter (th) is overarched by the Fornix (F). 
 
 mo. Medulla oblongata. 
 
 P. Pons. Cb. Cerebellum. 
 CQ. Corpora Quadrigemina. 
 Cr. Crus Cerebri. 
 
 F. (in No. V) Fornix. 
 
 m. Foramen Mpnro. 
 
 3. Third ventricle. 
 
 4. Fourth ventricle. 
 /. Lateral ventricle. 
 s. Aquaductus Sylvii. 
 
 FRONTAL SECTIONS REPRESENTING THREE STAGES OF THE FORE BRAIN. 
 
 (After Wernicke.) 
 
 #i. Cavity of primitive fore brain; (representing the third ventricle). 
 aa. Lateral ventricles. inf. Infundibulum. 
 
 fM. Foramen Monro. cst. Corpus striatum. 
 
 th. Thalamus. 
 
BRAIN DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 109 
 
 sage to the mid brain is elongated and we call it the 
 intermediate brain. The hind brain shows a new di- 
 vision which makes it slope by degrees into the spinal 
 cord. This part is called the after brain. 
 
 The excrescences of the fore brain are to become 
 the hemispheres ; they constitute the cerebral region 
 of the brain. The fore-brain will shrink so as to dis- 
 appear almost entirely. The intermediate brain will 
 develop the Thalami. The mid brain the Four Hills. 
 The hind brain the Cerebellum and pons, while the 
 after brain will change into the Medulla Oblongata. 
 
 The cavities of the tube will 
 remain also, although much mo- 
 dified. The cavities in the hemi- 
 spheres are called the lateral ven- 
 tricles. Through the growth of 
 the walls they become straight- 
 ened into three narrow caves 
 called the anterior, posterior, and 
 lateral horns. The cavity of the 
 original fore brain fuses with the 
 cavity of the intermediate brain 
 into the so-called " third ven- 
 tricle." The passage from the 
 two lateral ventricles into the 
 third ventricle is very much re- 
 duced ; it has the shape of a Y, 
 and is called Foramen Monro. 
 
 The adjoined figures and dia- 
 grams show the growth of the 
 different parts of the brain from 
 its simplest beginnings. 
 
 THE EMBRYO OF A MAMMAL OR 
 
 BIRD. (After Haeckel.) 
 
 f. Primitive fore brain. 
 
 o. Primitive eye. 
 
 /. Intermediate brain. 
 m. Mid brain. 
 
 h. Hind brain. 
 
 a. After brain. 
 vv. Vertebrae. 
 
 md ' 
 
 f medu " a 
 
no 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 CORONAL SECTIONS. 
 
 ;-- / 
 
 -ear 
 
 Early stage, representing the 
 foetal brain of a chick. 
 (After Mihalkovics.) 
 psci. Primitive fore brain. 
 opt. Primitive eye. 
 msc. Mid brain. 
 epci. Hind brain. 
 epc2. After brain. 
 spn. Spinal cord. 
 cor. Heart. 
 
 t. Lamina terminalis. 
 
 Later stage, representing in a diagram the 
 fcetal brain of a mammal. (McAllister.) 
 
 H. Hemispheres (secondary forebrain), 
 representing the excrescences of the prim- 
 itive fore brain. 
 
 FB. Primitive forebrain. 
 
 Th. Thalamic region or intermediate 
 brain. 
 
 MB^cq. Mid brain = Corpora quadri- 
 gemina. 
 
 HB=cb. Hind brain= Cerebellum. 
 
 AB. After brain=Medulla oblongata. 
 
 cs. Corpus striatum. 
 
 //. Lateral ventricles. 
 
 mm. Foramen Monro. 
 
 3 3. Third ventricle. 
 
 j. Aquaductus silvii. 
 
 4. Fourth Ventricle. 
 
 t. Lamina terminalis. 
 
 The similarity of arrangement and the difference 
 of development in the various parts of the brain among 
 fishes, birds, reptiles, and mammals may be studied in 
 the following diagrams, reproduced from Edinger. 
 
BRAIN DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 SAGITTAL MEDIAN SECTIONS (After Edinger). 
 
 in 
 
 GENERAL PLAN OF VERTEBRATE BRAINS. 
 
112 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
BRAIN DE VEL OPMENT. 1 1 3 
 
 THE HUMAN BRAIN, FULLY DEVELOPED. 
 
SPINAL CORD. 
 
 THE nervous system is built up of (i) nervous sub- 
 stance and (2) neuroglia. Nervous substance consists 
 either of ganglionic cells or of nerve-fibres, the latter 
 
 NERVE CELLS FROM SPINAL CORD. (Afer Ranvier.) 
 A. and B. Ganglionic cells. 
 C. Neuroglia cells. 
 D. Axis cylinder. 
 p. Protoplasmic process. 
 
SPINAL CORD. 115 
 
 being processes rising out of ganglionic cells. Neu- 
 roglia, the nervous bindweb, is as it were the framework 
 which supports the nervous substance. The mem- 
 branes which envelop the ganglionic cells and the 
 
 Posterior Part. 
 
 Anterior Part. 
 
 SPINAL CORD. (Cross-section after Deiters.) 
 Ra. Radix anterior. 
 Rp. Radix posterior. 
 Rip. Inner part of Radix posterior. 
 
 Cp. Commissura posterior (gray substance). 
 Caa. Commissura anterior. 
 Cc. Central canal. 
 
u6 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 sheaths which encase the nerve-fibres and nerve-bun- 
 dles are neuroglia ; and besides these comparatively 
 strong ligaments there are most delicate neuroglia-cells 
 which in outward appearance resemble heaps of burs 
 thickly crowded about the ganglionic cells and nerves, 
 and filling the spaces between them. 
 
 The spinal cord is a long tube of nervous substance 
 supported by neuroglia, having comparatively thick 
 
 Anterior Part. 
 
 Posterior part. 
 
 TRANSVERSE SECTION OF SPINAL CORD. (Reproduced from Charcot. 
 A'. Columns of Turck (direct pyramidal). 
 
 A. A. Crossed pyramidal tracts. 
 
 B. B. Posterior root zone (Burdach's column). 
 
 C. C. Posterior horns. 
 
 D. D. Anterior horns. 
 E. Column of Goll. 
 
 F. F. Anterior root zone. 
 
 walls. Its cavity has almost disappeared. The gray 
 matter of the spinal cord appears when viewed in a 
 horizontal section to be arranged in the shape of two 
 
SPINAL CORD. 
 
 117 
 
 crescents the anterior and posterior horns. These parts 
 contain the ganglionic nerve-cells. The white matter 
 consists of fibres which stand in connection with the 
 gray matter of the horns. These fibres lead up to, and 
 arrive from, the different parts of the brain. The 
 nerve bundles coming out of the spinal cord are called 
 radices or roots. 
 
 SPINAL CORD. 
 
 With anterior and posterior roots. (After Edinger.j 
 
 The nutrition of nervous substance takes place in 
 the direction of its functional activity. Accordingly, 
 if we cut a nerve, it will degenerate, in case it be mo- 
 tory, below, in case it be sensory, above the cut. With 
 the aid of this law, named after the English physiol- 
 ogist Waller, experiments have been made (especially 
 on dogs) with a view to tracing .the directions of the 
 different nerves. The results of the experiments were 
 then compared with and corroborated by pathological 
 observations. 
 
u8 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The posterior roots have by this method been proved 
 to be sensory. Peripherally they originate in the Pa- 
 cinian corpuscles which are embedded in the mucous 
 membrane of the skin. Shortly before entering the 
 spinal cord they pass through a ganglion, while the 
 anterior roots, or motory fibres, terminate directly in 
 their respective muscles. 
 
 'uscle 
 
 THE MECHANISM OF THE PYRAMIDAL FIBRES 
 
 SEVERANCE OF SPINAL 
 
 CORD (After Strumpell). 
 The spinal cord was 
 cut in C. In co n se- 
 quence thereof we find 
 after the lapse of a few 
 weeks an ascending de- 
 generation of sensory 
 nerves (as seen in A and 
 B), and a descending 
 degeneration of motor 
 nerves (as seen in D and 
 E.) 
 
 All further details are best studied by an inspection 
 of the adjoined diagrams. 
 
SPINAL CORD. 
 
 119 
 
 PYRAMIDAL BUNDLES AND FACIAL NERVE (Reproduced from Edinger). 
 
 The diagram shows how different situations of diseased portions will pro- 
 duce different effects. 
 
 A tumor in the left capsule (A) will produce paralysis in the muscles of the 
 right portion of the body. A tumor in B will affect the facial nerve of the left 
 side and some of the muscles in the right extremities. A tumor in Cwill affect 
 part of the right facial nerve of the right pyramidal bundles. 
 
120 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 CROSS-SECTION OF 
 SPINAL CORD. 
 
 (After Erb.) 
 
 DIAGRAM OF THE PYRAMIDAL BUNDLE. 
 
 (Reproduced from Edinger.) 
 Showing the degeneration of the direct fibres 
 on the left, and of the indirect on the right 
 side, in consequence of a tumor in the left 
 capsula internet. 
 
 The adjoined sections (After Erb) of the 
 spinal cord show the same process viewed 
 transversely in cervical, dorsal, and lumbar 
 parts. The topmost lies above the place of 
 decussation. 
 
SPINAL CORD. 
 
 121 
 
 DIAGRAMS REPRESENTING FLECHSIG S INVESTIGATIONS. 
 
 Showing the different bundles of nervous fibres in two cervical sections, 
 a pectoral, and a lumbar section of the spinal cord. 
 
 1. Anterior bundle of mixed nerves, paths to and from reflex centres in the 
 medulla oblongata. 
 
 2. Burdach's bundles receive fibres from the posterior horns and lead 
 them through the corpus restiforme to the vermis of the cerebellum. 
 
 3 and 4. Lateral bundles of mixed nerves being (like i) paths for centres 
 of reflex motions in the medulla oblongata. 3 and 4 contain soma sensory 
 fibres, originating in the posterior horns. 
 
 5. Coil's bundle, ascending nerves, which can be traced to the gray nuclei 
 in the funiculus gracilis of the medulla oblongata. 
 
 6. Cerebellar fibres, pass through the corpus restiforme and connect the 
 posterior horns with the cerebellum. 
 
 7. Pyramidal bundles. Indirect or decussated tract. 
 7. i. Direct pyramidal bundles. 
 
 2'. Anterior roots. 
 
122 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Posterior Part. 
 
 Anterior Part. 
 
 TRANSVERSE SECTION OF THE SPINAL CORD. (Reproduced from Edinger). 
 
 The diagram represents the course of various fibres : sensory nerves 
 (i, 2, 3, 4) entering the posterior horns ; motory nerves passing out from the 
 anterior horns ; andcommissural fibres, bringing certain gray centres into rela- 
 tion with one another. 
 
 The sensory cells are of globular, the motory cells of pyramidal form. 
 Imbedded in the posterior horns is Clark's Column (columna, vescicularis) 
 which can be traced from the lumbar region up to the cervical region and 
 reaches most probably into the medulla oblongata. 
 
 The mechanism of the sensory or posterior horns is apparently much more 
 complicated than that of the anterior or motory horns. Between the gray cells 
 and the marginal layer, (called by Lissauer zona terminalis^ there is a gelat- 
 inous substance (substantia gelatinosa Roland f). Moreover all the nervous 
 irritations transmitted through sensory fibres, have to pass through a net-work 
 (zona spongiosa) in which the connection between the processes of the gray 
 cells and their respective fibres ceases to be visible. The continuation of 
 fibres to their cells is solely inferred from processes of degeneration. 
 
MEDULLA OBLONGATA. 
 
 THE bulb or medulla oblongata, the continuation of 
 the spinal cord, is, as the seat of the most vital reflex 
 centres, of extraordinary importance. It is here that, 
 with two exceptions, the most important higher nerves 
 originate. These two exceptions are the First and 
 Second nerves. The First Nerve (the olfactory) stands 
 in close connection with the cerebrum or hemispheric 
 part of the brain; the Second or Optic Nerve with the 
 thalamus opticus and the optic lobes (corpora quadri- 
 gemina). All other nerves that are higher developed 
 and more differentiated than the spinal nerves, have 
 their roots in the medulla. 
 
 The following reflex centres are situated in the 
 medulla, viz. : those that effect 
 
 (1) The closing of the eye-lids; 
 
 (2) Sneezing; 
 
 (3) Coughing; 
 
 (4) Sucking and chewing; 
 
 (5) Secretion of saliva; 
 
 (6) Swallowing; 
 
 (7) Vomiting ; and 
 
 (8) Contraction of the iris. 
 
 There is in addition to these reflex centres asuper- 
 ordinated centre, which combines the different centres 
 among themselves so as to make complicated reflex 
 motions possible without interference of cerebral ac- 
 
I2 4 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN, 
 
 tivity. This superordinated centre is situated in the 
 rabbit about 6 mm above the calamus scriptorius. Its 
 presence is proved by experiments on decapitated 
 frogs, lizards, eels, and also on mammals in which the 
 medulla has been severed by dissection from the up- 
 per parts of the nervous system. (Proved by the ex- 
 periments of Sig. Mayer, Luchsinger andOwsjanikow.) 
 The reflex, centres of breathing seem to be of a 
 complex nature. There are two centres in the medulla, 
 one for inspiration, the other for expiration, and both 
 are automatic. They continue to work even after the 
 section of all sensory nerves, and depend upon the blood 
 circulation ; venous blood operating as an irritation for 
 breathing. 
 
 \ 
 
 THE NUCLEI OF THE THIRD AND FOt-RTH OR OCULOMOTOR AND TROCHLEAR 
 
 NERVES. (Half diagrammatic, after Edinger.) 
 
 Showing the complexity of the mechanism in the origin of nerves. 
 a and b are two gray hook-shaped nuclei, the connection of which with the 
 oculo-motor is as yet uncertain. 
 
 Flourens has localized the noeud vital or centre of 
 breathing, on both sides between the nuclei of the acces- 
 sorius and the vagus nerves. But further researches 
 have proved that the mechanism of breathing is more 
 complex still, for there are some subordinated spinal 
 centres which even after the section of the medulla 
 
MEDULLA OBLONGATA. 125 
 
 keep up certain motions in the thorax. (Proved by Bra- 
 chet, Lautenbach, Langendorff, and Landois.) Be : 
 sides, some superordinated centres have been dis- 
 covered in the posterior hill of the corpora quadrige- 
 mina (by Martin and Booker) and in the thalamus on 
 the bottom of the third ventricle (by Christiani). 
 
 The action of the heart is regulated chiefly through 
 the nervus vagus and nervus sympathicus. There are 
 inhibitory as well as accelerating fibres. An irritation 
 of the vagus produces a decrease of the activity of the 
 heart, while an irritation of the first pectoral sympa- 
 thetic ganglion produces an acceleration. This part of 
 the nerve was accordingly called Nervus accelerans 
 cordis. 
 
 The reflex motions of the medulla ob- 
 longata may, but need not be connected 
 with consciousness ; they are of a higher 
 and more complex order than the direct ISN < 
 reflex motions of a simple ganglionic me- 
 chanism and are represented in the -ad- 
 joined diagram. Sensory impressions (S7) sn 
 are received in the Pacinian corpuscles at the periph- 
 eral terminus of the sensory nerve. They are trans- 
 mitted through the spinal ganglion to the gray matter 
 of the posterior horns (/67V) and thence in the as- 
 cending spinal fibres to their respective centres in the 
 medulla oblongata (6 1 ). The motory reflex action starts 
 in the medullary reflex centre (in W\ is transmitted 
 through descending nerves to the anterior horns 
 (IMN) and thence through the anterior roots to their 
 respective muscles (MM). 
 
 The medulla oblongata may be considered as the 
 seat of the vegetative soul ; since a destruction of its 
 
126 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 BULB OR MEDULLA OBLONGATA. (Reproduced from Landois). 
 c. Conarium or pineal gland. 
 
 pv. Pulvinaror cushion, i. e., lower part of thalamus opticus. 
 a and/. Four hills (Corpora Quadrigemina). a. Anterior hill. /. Posterior 
 hill. 
 
 ba. Brachium conjunctivum anticum, i. e., tracts of nerve-fibres leading 
 to the" anterior hill. 
 
MEDULLA OBLONGATA. 127 
 
 b p. Brachium conjunctivum posticum, i. e., tracts of nerve-fibres lead- 
 ing to the posterior hill. 
 
 pc. Pedunculus Cerebri, nerve-tracts to the hemispheres. 
 There are three pairs of Peduncles on which the small brain hangs : 
 ad p. Ad pontem. Connection with the bridge. 
 
 ad m. Ad medullam oblongatam. Connection with the Medulla oblongata, 
 and further down with the spinal cord. 
 
 adq. Ad corpora quadrigemina. Connection with the posterior hill. 
 I c. Locus coaruleus, bluish spot. 
 cl. Clava, a club-shaped bundle. 
 
 f. c. Funiculus cuneiformis, being a part of a nerve-bundle called " the 
 Rope " or corpus restiforme. 
 
 f. g. Funiculus gracilis, the continuation of the clava. 
 e t. Eminentia teres. A tubercle covering the nuclei 5, 6, 7. 
 
 t. Funiculus teres. 
 n a. Nucleus accessorius. 
 
 ob. Obex. The bolt, crescent-shaped oblique fibres. 
 a c. Ala cinerea, a layer of gray substance of triangular shape. This 
 portion of the fourth ventricle is called calamus scriptorius from its fancied 
 resemblance to a pen. 
 
 The Roman numbers represent the nerves and the Arabian numbers their 
 respective nuclei in the deeper layers of the medulla, where the nerves 
 originate. 
 
 The first nerve is the olfactory. It enters the hemispheric part of the 
 brain through several roots. 
 
 The second nerve is the Optic nerve which stands in connection with the 
 thalamus opticus and the Four hills. 
 
 These two nerves do not appear in the adjoined figure. 
 
 3. Nucleus of the oculo-motor or third nerve is the main source of motor 
 innervation in the most important muscles of the eye. The nerve passes to 
 the front between the two crura ; accordingly the nerve (///) is not visible in 
 the adjoined cut. Other ocular nerves are the fourth and the sixth. 
 
 4. IV. Trochlear nucleus and nerve. A motory nerve going to the trochlea, 
 the hollow of the eye innervating the muscle which makes the eye roll. 
 
 5. V. Trigeminus nuclei and nerve. A nerve rising from two nuclei and 
 dividing into three branches, going to the face. It serves motory impulses as 
 well as for the reception of sensory impressions. 
 
 6. Abducens nucleus. The nerve, because passing out in front, like the 
 third nerve, is not visible in the cut. It is a motory nerve and innervates the 
 muscle that moves the eye toward the side. 
 
 7. VII. Facial nerve. A motor nerve for the muscles of the face. 
 
 8. VIII. Acusticus nucleus and nerve, the sensory nerve of hearing. 
 
 9. IX. Glossopharyngeal nucleus and nerve, a sensory nerve, receiving 
 mainly the impressions of taste. 
 
 10. X. Vagus nucleus and nerve, a mixed nerve of motor and sensory 
 fibres innervating the heart and the lungs. 
 
 11. XI. Accessory nucleus and nerve. A nerve, communicating with other 
 nerves, having mainly a motory character. 
 
 12. XII. "Hypoglossus nucleus and nerve. The motor nerve for the tongue, 
 being of special importance in man because it regulates the mechanism of 
 speech. 
 
128 THE SOUL OF MAtf. 
 
 most important centres will always cause instantaneous 
 death. 
 
 The medulla oblongata possesses to some degree the 
 faculty of adaptation to circumstances as has been 
 proved by the famous frog-experiment. A decapitated 
 frog in which the spinal cord and medulla oblongata are 
 preserved, all higher centres being severed, will scratch 
 itself with its right leg, if irritated on the right side of 
 its back. When the right leg is amputated, it will 
 after a few vain attempts with the stump, try to remove 
 the irritant by means of its left leg. 
 
 This experiment proves that the soul does not dwell 
 in one part of the nervous system alone ; but that every 
 part is endowed with soul-life. Every ganglion is a 
 seat of soul-life. The activity of every reflex centre 
 is no mere physiological phenomenon. The lowest 
 reflex centres of irritable substance possess the power 
 of adaptation to circumstances ; the medulla oblongata 
 being a higher, a superordinated and more complex 
 centre, possesses this in a greater degree than simple 
 ganglions. Yet there is one further step needed for 
 changing irritability into distinct and definite feeling. 
 This is created through the possibility of comparing 
 the present irritation with the memories of former irri- 
 tations not only of the same kind, but of all kinds. 
 Such a possibility is established in the brain, which is 
 the coordinative organ of soul-activity. 
 
 The brain is a storehouse of all kinds of memories. 
 All irritations received in the peripheral sense-organs 
 are, as it were (to use Meynert's expression) projected 
 into the hemispheres. There they leave traces or ves- 
 tiges : every different impression leaves a vestige of its 
 own ; and these vestiges are living memories, pictures 
 of impressions, i. e., structures of a special form pro- 
 
MEDULLA OBLONGATA. 129 
 
 duced through irritations of a special form. These 
 memories are so to say deposited in the brain and 
 represent the outside objects through contact with 
 which they have been produced. Being representative 
 of things or of natural phenomena they are symbols of 
 the surrounding world and make cognition possible. 
 The mechanism of the brain is so arranged that all 
 the different memories are properly interconnected 
 thus making a comparison among ,them easily pos- 
 sible. 
 
CEREBELLUM AND PONS. 
 
 THE Small Brain (or Cerebellum) together with the 
 Bridge {Pons Varolit} encircles the medulla oblongata 
 like a thick ring, being thickest at the posterior part. 
 The Pons overarches, bridge-like (hence its name), 
 the medulla in front. It receives in the nuclei of gray 
 substance embedded in its fibres, many nerves from 
 the pyramidal tracts and thus forms an intermediate 
 station between the cerebrum and the lower motory 
 mechanism. 
 
 Some of the nerves that originate here stand in 
 relation to the Pons. Thus, the fifth nerve (trigemi- 
 nus) breaks with its motory as well as sensory fibres 
 through the Pons ; and a disease in either arch of the 
 Pons always affects to a greater or less extent the sen- 
 sibility and motility of the opposite part of the body. 
 
 Between the two lobes of the Cerebellum there is a 
 narrow central portion which, because of its worm-like 
 appearance, is called vermis or worm. The upper 
 worm culminates in the monticulus (mountain), the 
 lower worm in the uvula (or grape). 
 
 The names as well as structures of the different 
 parts of the Small Brain and the relations of the Pons 
 may be studied in the adjoined diagrams. 
 
 The functions of the different parts of the Cere- 
 bellum are little explored. We know however that 
 
CEREBELLUM AND PONS. 131 
 
 irritations produce vertigo and rolling motions. Ani- 
 mals in which the Cerebellum is injured, show an un- 
 certainty in their movements similar to that observable 
 in a drunkard. The adjoined pictures (reproduced 
 from the Encyclopedia Britannica) show two pigeons; 
 
 PIGEON WHOSE CEREBELLUM IS REMOVED. 
 
 PIGEON WHOSE HEMISPHERES ARE REMOVED. 
 
 from the one the Small Brain and from the other the 
 Hemispheres have been removed. The former shows 
 all signs of intelligence : its motor apparatus are in all 
 their details uninjured ; yet the power of properly co- 
 ordinating the various motions is entirely gone. Thus 
 the pigeon lies helplessly sprawled on the ground. 
 The other pigeon stands firmly on its feet \ it flies if 
 thrown into the air ; it walks steadily if through some 
 
132 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 CEREBELLUM. DORSAL VIEW. (After Sappey.) 
 
 1. Bottom of Fourth Ventricle, the roof of which is formed by the cere- 
 bellum. 
 
 2. Striae acusticae, the roots of the auditory nerve. 
 
 3. Left lower Peduncle, rising from the medulla, and overlapping in 
 its further progress the upper peduncle, as seen on the right side. 
 
 4. Clavae funiculi gracilis, the Clubs ; the swellings of the clavae are 
 caused through nuclei imbedded in their fibres. 
 
 5. Upper Peduncles, connecting the cerebellum through the red nucleus 
 with the posterior hill, the thalamus, and most likely also with the hemis- 
 pheres. 
 
 6. Laqueus or fillet, a tract of nervous fibres, originating on the dorsal side 
 below the Four Hills. It passes slantingly to a lower part of the ventral side. 
 The fillet consists of fibres from the auditory nerve, the trigeminus and the 
 spinal cord, the latter part being motory. The others connect the activity of 
 their respective nerves with the thalamic region. 
 
 7. Brachia ad pontem, the thickest among the three pairs of bands which 
 pass into the cerebellum. It connects the Small Brain with the Bridge. 
 
 The dotted line at the top represents the corpora quadrigemina or Four 
 Hills. 
 
 The left and middle part of the cerebellum is cut off. The gray and white 
 substance in the interior of the cerebellum is so arranged as to produce the 
 figure of a tree, called arbor vitae, the tree of life. 
 
CEREBELLUM A.VD PONS. 
 
 133 
 
 irritation it is made to move ; in a word the power of 
 co-ordinating the most complex motions is preserved. 
 Yet all movements are executed apparently without 
 consciousness and without the faintest sign of intelli- 
 gence. 
 
134 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 VIII 
 
 PONS AND ITS RELATIONS. 
 
 The Roman numbers indicate the nerves in their order. 
 The fifth nerve (trigeminus) divides in the Gasserian ganglion (marked x) 
 into three sensory branches : 
 
 1. The ophthalmic branch ; 
 
 2. The supra-maxillary branch ; 
 - 1 3. The infra-maxillary branch ; 
 
 V m. Motory branch of the fifth nerve. 
 
CEREBELLUM AND PONS. 135 
 
 C Lobes of the cerebrum. Hemispheric region. 
 
 The gray layer between the roots into which the first (olfactory) nerve 
 divides is called substantia perforata (marked x x). 
 
 Th. Thalamus opticus. 
 
 h. Hypophysis. Here the optic nerve decussates. Its decussaticui is called 
 chiasma, having the shape of a Greek Chi, %. 
 
 a. Corpora candicantia or mammillaria. 
 
 /. Corpus geniculatum interius. 
 
 e. Corpus geniculatum exterius, being the ganglions of the second, or optic 
 nerve. The optic nerve divides into two parts, the exterior stands in close 
 connection through the corpus geniculatum exterius with the thalamus and 
 passes into the anterior Hill of the corpora quadrigemina. The interior passes 
 into the posterior Hill. 
 
 t c. Tuber cinereum. 
 
 P. Peduncles of the brain or crura cerebri. 
 
 P. V. Pons Varolii. 
 
 pa. Anterior pyramid of medulla. The decussation of the pyramidal 
 tracts below the pyramids is plainly visible. 
 
 o. Olivary body. 
 
 C. ff. First cervical nerve. 
 
 c. I. Lateral column of spinal cord. 
 
 c. a. Anterior column. 
 
 C. e. Lobus lunatus anterior of cerebellum. 
 
 C. e'. Digastric lobe of cerebellum. 
 Jl. Flocculus or tuft, a small lobe of cerebellum. 
 
 CEREBELLUM. Superficial view from the dorsal side. (Edinger.; 
 
"36 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 CEREBELLUM. Superficial view from the ventral side. (Edinger.) 
 
 DIAGRAMMATIC SECTION THROUGH BRIDGE AND SMALL BRAIN. 
 
 (Reproduced from "Edinger.) 
 
 It represents the most important results obtained by Benedict Stilling 
 with regard to the paths of the various fibres in the cerebellum. The me- 
 dulla has been severed and pulled out of place in order to show the Bridge and 
 Small Brain at once. Thus the upper peduncles (brachia cerebelli anteriora) 
 appear in the wrong place. They must be conceived as belonging much lower. 
 They enter the cerebellum at the hole in the middle. (Compare for a cor- 
 rection of this displacement the other drawings of the cerebellum.) Little 
 additional knowledge upon this subject has been gained since Stilling. . 
 
THE THALAMIC REGION OF THE BRAIN. 
 
 THE upward continuations of the medulla are 
 called the Crura (singular crus\ the legs of the 
 brain. They are the stems on which the Brain 
 stands. These Crura consist on each side of two 
 parts : the front part shows coarse longitudinal fibres 
 emerging from the upper margin of the Bridge, called 
 crusta (the crust) ; the hind part, covering the crusta, 
 is called tegmentum, (German Haube, cover). Between 
 both, on the upper surface of the crusta, where the 
 tegmentum covers it, is seen a dark portion, called 
 locus niger (the black spot). 
 
 The dorsal part of the tegmentum shows a narrow 
 tunnel called aquaductus Sylvii, which connects the 
 third and fourth ventricles. The upper roof of the 
 aquaduct is overarched by the two fillets, which here 
 decussate, and upon which the Four Hills rise. 
 
 Out of the tegmentum on each side a thick gang- 
 lion grows, called thalamus opticus, the lower part of 
 which is the cushion or pulvinar. The Thalamus re- 
 ceives ascending fibres not only from the tegmentum 
 but also from other sources. Through the external 
 optic ganglion (corpus geniculatum exterius), it stands 
 in connection with the optic nerve ; through the 
 taenia semicircularis with the olfactory j and through 
 the fillet (laqueus}, with the auditory nerve. 
 
i 3 8 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The anterior two of the Four Hills are in some 
 way related with vision as a sensory process ; while 
 the posterior hills exercise a decided influence upon 
 the motory actions of the eyes. Animals in whom all 
 the parts down as far as the apparatus of the Four 
 Hills have been removed, exhibit not only all the usual 
 reflex motions against light (e. g., contraction of the 
 iris), but are also able to regulate other motions by 
 what they see. When trying to escape they avoid ob- 
 
 DIAGRAM SHOWING THE RELATIONS OF CEREBELLUM AND PONS TO THE 
 THALAMIC REGION. 
 
 The stem of the brain (or crus cerebri} consists of the crusta which lies in 
 front, and the tegmentum which covers the crusta. 
 
 The optic nerve divides into two branches. The superior branch passes 
 into the corpus geniculatum exterius (the external optic ganglion) which stands 
 in connection with the thalamus this part of the thalamus is called pulvinar 
 (cushion) and passes into the Anterior Hill (A) of the corpora quadrigemina. 
 The lower branch passes through the corpus geniculatitin inter ius into the 
 Posterior Hill (P). 
 
 The fillet (laqueus) consists of three nerve bundles that connect the Four 
 Hills and perhaps also the thalamus with (i) motory fibres of the spinal cord, 
 (2) Jhe trigeminus, and (3) the auditory nuclei. Adecussation of the fibres of 
 the fillet takes place under the Four Hills. 
 
THALAMIC REGION. 139 
 
 stacles placed in their way, they follow with their head 
 the motions of a light, etc. Thus it appears that the 
 Four Hills, independently of the higher brain-organs 
 (especially the Striped Body and the Hemispheres), 
 exercise some regulative influence upon ocular and 
 other muscular motions. 
 
 According to Dr. Luys's hypothesis, the Thalamus 
 ought to be considered as a condenser of sensory im- 
 pressions, and the Striped Body (corpus striatum], a 
 condenser of motory impulses. This, however, agrees 
 neither with anatomical facts nor with pathological 
 and experimental observations. It is irreconcilable with 
 the results of Meynert's investigations. ' ' Neither can, " 
 says Wundt, " the connection of all sensory tracts 
 with the Thalamus be proved, nor, on the other hand, 
 is its connection with motor tracts to be doubted." 
 The fillet (laqueus, Germ. Schleife) consists of several 
 tracts among which there are motor nerves entering 
 in their peripheral course the spinal cord. 
 
 Prof. Schiff proved by experiment that if in an 
 animal one Thalamus is cut through, a disturbance 
 will be observed in the direction of the animal's walk 
 and in the position of its legs. Instead of walking on 
 in a straight line, it moves in a circle. If the section is 
 made through the posterior third of the Thalamus, the 
 animal will turn towards the side of the non- injured half 
 of the brain ; if it be further in front, it will turn in the 
 opposite direction. The French call these strange dis- 
 turbances " mouvements de manege," because they are 
 like the epicyclical maneuvers of horses in circuses. 
 
 These motions are determined by an abnormal 
 position of the body, as can be observed even when 
 the animal is at rest. If the section is made through 
 the hind part of one Thalamus, the animal turns its fore- 
 
140 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 feet round towards the side in which the injury has 
 been made, while neck and vertebral column are 
 turned in the opposite direction. "An animal" (says 
 
 HORIZONTAL SECTION OF THE BRAIN, THROUGH THALAMUS AND CORPUS STRIATUM, 
 SLANTING DOWN ON BOTH SIDES FROM THE MEDIAN LINE. (After Edinger.) 
 
 The nucleus caudatus is on both sides cut in two places. The thicker 
 section, joining the two parts seen in the cut, is its head, the smal'er its tail. 
 The head borders in front on the descending part of the corpus callosum 
 (Balkeri). Its tapering body stretches along the thalamus, so as to separate 
 the concave surface of the thalamus from the corona radiata. 
 
 The lenticular body consists of three stripes, the outer one being the shell 
 or putamen, the two inner ones the globus pallidus. 
 
 The lenticular body and nucleus caudatus constitute the Striped Body. 
 
 A bundle of radiating fibres, passing to the occipital lobe, are the paths of 
 the optic centre. The claustrum or Wall is a gray layer of unknown functions 
 situated underneath the insula. 
 
THALAMIC REGION. 141 
 
 Wuhdt, from whom this account is taken) "will nat- 
 urally move in the indicated abnormal direction, if it 
 gives the same quantity of innervation to the intended 
 movements as before, in a similar way as a ship will 
 be thrown out of a straight course by a turn of the 
 rudder." If the anterior part of the Thalamus be in- 
 jured, the neck and feet take a position just in the 
 inverse direction ; hence the inverse movement. 
 
 The Thalamus, accordingly, is a reflex centre that 
 controls or influences certain motor nerves ; and we con- 
 sider it as the organ of co-ordination for the nervous 
 tracts of the tegmentum. An animal whose Hemispheres 
 and Striped Body are removed, is able to execute all 
 motions however complex; a fact which ought to be 
 impossible according to Dr. Luys's theory. 
 
 Dr. Luys, it seems, was induced to propound this 
 hypothesis because lesions of the Thalamus, although 
 they cause disturbances, do not produce any paralysis. 
 This, however, will find a sufficient explanation, if we 
 consider that, in the extremely complex brain mechan- 
 ism, there are other channels which will send sensory 
 impressions to the hemispheres even if the co-ordinative 
 centre of the tegmentum and other sensory nerves be 
 excluded. An injury to the Thalamus may produce 
 disturbances, as in the experiments above described. 
 Yet these disturbances can and indeed they will be 
 corrected after some time if but the other tracts that 
 connect the hemispheres with the sensory organs re- 
 main uninjured ; and thus the symptoms will eventually 
 disappear. The rotatory motions (nwuvements de ma- 
 ncge} will cease to be noticeable within six weeks, 
 and this fact, it seems to me, corroborates our suppo- 
 sition that the Thalamus is an organ of co-ordination 
 inserted between the tracts of the tegmentum and 
 
I 4 2 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the optic nerve on the one side and the hemispheres 
 on the other. Its function, however, can be per- 
 formed by the Hemispheres as well perhaps with a 
 greater effort of conscious attention and a patient, 
 suffering from a lesion in the Thalamus may become 
 accustomed to it. 
 
 This would explain why the pathological reports of 
 post mortem examinations in which a degeneration of 
 the Thalamus has been proved, throw little, if any, 
 light, upon the subject. 
 
 For special students of physiology, the following 
 passage, quoted from Dr. C. Wernicke (Lehrbuch der 
 Gehirnkrankheiten /, p. 191), may be of interest : 
 
 " In the case of a girl of fourteen years, a tuberculous subject, 
 Meynert observed a pathological condition of the head, spinal 
 column, and upper extremities, lasting seven weeks, which he 
 thought analogous to the condition produced by Schiff's section of 
 the posterior part of the left thalamus in animals. His diagnosis 
 was accordingly, degeneration of the left thalamus. The head and 
 spinal column were turned to the right, the head having also a 
 downward inclination, and there was a slight curvature of the 
 spine pointing to the right side ; the right arm was flexed and the 
 left kept extended. If by manipulation the opposite movement 
 was executed, considerable resistance was experienced. After- 
 wards the left arm was also flexed but now offered little resistance 
 to extension. 
 
 ' ' The posture of this girl, whose mind was previously affected, 
 seemed to rest on fixed ideas ; but it could be voluntarily given up, 
 upon the occasion of rare exercises of will power to which she 
 could be brought. Consequently there was no paralysis. 
 
 " The state of affairs experimentally produced by Schiff and 
 which he has attributed to paralysis, Meynert did not conceive as 
 such. For a rabbit prepared in this way was, as Schiff reports, 
 still able to wipe mustard from its nose, with the paw supposed to 
 be paralyzed. Moreover the same change of position took place 
 in animals also, the hemispheres of which Schiff had previously 
 removed. According to Schiff's own view such animals are not 
 capable of voluntary motion but only of reflex motions. Under 
 
THALAMIC REGION. 143 
 
 these circumstances, the paralysis of flexors or extensors could not 
 possibly make the antagonistic groups predominant. Consequently 
 some other explanation of this change of position was necessary, 
 and Meynert finds it in the supposition of an interruption of cer- 
 tain paths of muscular sensation. That such paths must be con- 
 tained in the thalamus, respectively in the Four Hills, is proved 
 by the experiments of Goltz. Frogs whose hemispheres are re- 
 moved, and in whom the mentioned ganglia are preserved show a 
 wonderful adaptation for restoring the disturbed equipoise, if the 
 place on which they sit is put out of its equilibrium. In frogs 
 whose hemispheres are intact, the thalamus must accordingly be a 
 centre of the muscular sensation in which this disturbance takes 
 p!ace. 
 
 "A lesion of the thalamus as produced in the experiments of 
 Schiff, according to this conception, leads consciousness astray 
 concerning the position of the body. This girl had no muscular 
 sensation in certain muscular regions, and she tried to attain it, 
 through forced contraction of these very same muscles, the flexors 
 of the right, and the extensors of the left arm. In the left thala- 
 mus accordingly, the flexors must decussate, whilst the extensors 
 do not. The former would correspond to the roots of the tegmen- 
 tum, decussating in the thalamus through the posterior commis- 
 sure, the latter to the lamina medullares, which do not decussate. 
 If the degeneration extends to the left side, the flexors of the left 
 arm are attacked also ; in that case the muscular sensation of both 
 extensors and flexors was missing. Hence the rigidity of the arm 
 was changed during the progress of the disease to a loose con- 
 dition of flexion easily overcome. 
 
 The Four Hills and the Thalami are the most im- 
 portant parts of the thalamic region, yet there are a 
 few more structures which deserve at least a passing 
 mention. 
 
 Between the Thalami and the Four Hills on the dor- 
 sal side appears a small body shaped like a pine-cone, 
 which is called epiphysis or pineal (i. e. pine-cone- 
 shaped) gland. This pineal gland (conarium, Germ. 
 Ztrbef) is interesting not only because, being the only 
 part of the brain that appeared single, the philoso- 
 
i 4 4 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 pher Descartes considered it as the seat of the soul, but 
 also because later researches have proved it to be 
 a rudimentary eye. 
 
 The pineal gland is the larger, the lower an an- 
 imal ranks in the scale of evolution ; it corresponds in 
 certain amphibia to an aperture in the skull, and a 
 kind of lizard has been discovered in which under the 
 skin the rudimentary eye is still preserved. 
 
 This eye in the back part of the head must have 
 been very useful when our ancestors still lived in the 
 depths of the sea. Enemies who approached from 
 behind could be discovered before it was too late. 
 But when our ancestors changed their element and 
 lived on the shore, they had to expose their third eye 
 so much to the burning rays of the sun, that they kept 
 it shut for ever. And it became gradually a rudi- 
 mentary organ. 
 
 There is another body hanging on the ventral part 
 of the brain, called hypophysis or pituitary body. It 
 is a slimy mass of unknown functions. One thing 
 about it is certain, namely, that it does not belong to 
 the brain ; it does not consist of nervous substance. 
 In some of the lower animals (viz., in the vertebrates 
 that are not mammals) it lies much lower and stands 
 in no connection with the brain whatever. According 
 to the investigations lately made byFleschand Dosto- 
 jewsky, this body is similar in structure to some ex- 
 tremely active glands and thus it appears probable 
 that it is not a rudimentary organ like the pineal gland, 
 but still serves some physiological function. 
 
 The hollow space between the Thalami is called the 
 third ventricle, the walls of which are formed by 
 layers of gray substance. The ventricle at the bottom 
 assumes the shape of a small funnel, called infundi- 
 
THALAM1C REGION. 145 
 
 bulum. The surrounding gray mass of the Infundi- 
 bulum is called from its ash-gray color tuber cinereum. 
 
 The infundibulum, according toGaskell, most likely 
 represents the primitive terminal mouth of the ar- 
 chaic intestinal tube. In mammals the hypophysis is 
 coalesced with the tuber cinereum. 
 
 Behind the hypophysis on the ventral side, at the 
 base of the brain, exactly where the Crura of the brain 
 pass upwards, we find two white little elevations, one 
 on each side, called corpora candicantia, the shining 
 bodies, or corpora mammillaria, the breast-like bodies. 
 These white little mountains are ganglionic masses 
 covered with white layers. They contain several 
 ganglionic centres, receiving nerve bundles from dif- 
 ferent directions. These bundles are : 
 
 1. The bundle of Vic d'Azyr, connecting the in- 
 terior of the thalamus with the corpora candicantia. 
 
 2. The fibres of the tegmentum, coming from the 
 corpora quadrigemina and passing through the red 
 nucleus (nucleus ruber} in the subthalamic region. 
 
 3. Pedunculus corporis mammillaris, connecting 
 the medulla oblongata with the corpus mammillare. 
 
 The fibres of the fornix here rise upwards and 
 then turn backwards and extend behind the thala- 
 mus so as to form an overarching vault ; they connect 
 the thalamus with the hippocampus, i. e. , the mar- 
 ginal convolution of the hemispheres at the base of 
 the brain. 
 
 Another connection of the Thalamus with the sub- 
 thalamic region is the fasciculus retroflexus, also called 
 Meynert's bundle, which connects a small ganglion, 
 the ganglion habenulae in the Thalamus with the gang- 
 lion interpedunculare. A decussation of this fascicle 
 
146 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 takes place shortly above the ganglion interpeduncu- 
 lare. 
 
 THE THALAMUS AND ITS RELATIONS. (After Edinger.) 
 
 The prefixed diagram explains the situation better 
 than words. Formerly it was believed that the bun- 
 dle of Vic d'Azyr was the beginning of the fornix de- 
 scending from the thalamus and rising again into the 
 corpus mammillare. Gudden's experiments have dis- 
 proved this view and show that the bundle of Vic 
 d'Azyr does not descend but rises into the thalamus. 
 
 The region around the red nucleus being situated 
 underneath the thalamus is called the subthalamic 
 region. It is a province of the brain, which being the 
 meeting place of many intersecting tracts exhibits very 
 complicated conditions. It is a labyrinth of interla- 
 cing fibres, some rising out of the nucleus restiformis, 
 some out of the capsula interna, and some out of the 
 thalamus. They here and there gather into small 
 centres of gray substance, the import of which is but 
 little known. 
 
THALAMIC REGION. 
 
 PCI 
 
 SAGITTAL SECTION OF THIRD AND FOURTH VENTRICLES. (After Reichert) 
 
 Th. Thalamus opticus. 
 
 P. Pineal gland (conarium.) 
 
 Q. Corpora quadrigemina, or Four Hills. 
 
 sp. Habenae denarii, the reins of the pineal gland. Thin nerve-fibres 
 originating in the thalamus and entering the pineal gland. 
 
 cm. Commissura media; the middle or gray commissure, being the place 
 where the gray substance of the two thalami is connected. 
 
 c. a. Comissura anterior. The anterior commissure (seen here in a cross 
 section) consists of white fibres. Its anterior part is formed by crossing fibres 
 of the olfactory nerve. Its posterior part connects both temporal lobes of the 
 hemispheres. 
 
 cp. Posterior commissure. Three distinct little bundles of white fibrer , 
 connecting both thalami. 
 
 /. c. Lamina cinerea, a band of grayish fibres. 
 
 //. Cross section of the optic nerve in the chiasma. 
 
 A. Corpus mammillare or corpus candicans. Its ganglionic nature is better 
 seen in Edinger's diagram, "The Thalamus'and its Relations." (/. T 46) 
 
 a s. Aquaductus Sylvii, the tunnel between Vj and V4. 
 
 n. Inferior medullary velum, covering the lower part of the Fourth Ven- 
 tricle. 
 
 av. Arbor vitae, or the tree of life in the small brain. 
 
 sc. Folium cacuminis. 
 
 sv. Superior vermis ; upper part of the worm. 
 
 /, 2, j, 4, 5. 6. Lobes of cerebellum. 
 
 ///. Third nerve. 
 VI. Sixth nerve. 
 f. Root of fornix. 
 //. Hypophysis or pituitary body. 
 t c. Tuber cinereum. 
 Vs. Third ventricle. 
 V4. Fourth Ventricle. 
 i. Infundibulum. 
 
 Pv. Pons Varolii. 
 
 Cr. Crus cerebri. 
 
 m. Medulla oblongata. 
 
 pp. Clava. 
 
 e. Medullary canal. 
 
 Pa. Pyramid. 
 
 p. d. Pyramidal decussation*^ 
 
THE HEMISPHERIC REGION. 
 
 IN ascending above the Thalamus we rise into the 
 highest and most important province of the brain, 
 into the hemispheric region, consisting of the cortex 
 and the striped bodies or corpora striata. 
 
 If we pursue the course of the fibres of the crusta 
 upwards, we notice that on each side they break 
 through a thick oval body (the corpus striatum] and 
 then, above the corpus striatum they radiate fanlike, 
 and disperse in all directions. The narrow passage 
 through the striped body, filled with these thick 
 bundles of white fibres, is called the Capsula tnterna, 
 and their fanlike dispersion above the striped body is 
 called the corona radiata or crown. One smaller bun- 
 dle of nerve fibres passes round the striped body to 
 the frontal lobe of the brain, and this tract is called 
 capsula externa. 
 
 The corpus striatum is thus divided by the capsula 
 tnterna into two parts, which after their shape are 
 called the lenticular and the tailed body nucleus 
 lentiformis and nucleus caudatus. The lenticular body 
 appears in a lateral view, if looked at from the island 
 of Reil, like a slightly oval lense. It is situated out- 
 side the internal capsule. The tailed body shaped 
 like a big comma whose head lies in front and whose 
 tapering tail stretches backward and downward, lies 
 inside the internal capsule. The nucleus caudatus is 
 in its thicker frontal part continuous with the gray 
 matter of the hemispheres ; it is also intimately con- 
 necteM with the shell (or putamen) of the lenticular 
 
THE HEMISPHERIC REGION. 
 
 149 
 
 CORONA RADIATA AND ITS RELATIONS. 
 
 C. R. Corona Radiata consisting of ascend- 
 ing and descending fibres. 
 n, c. Nucleus Caudatus. 
 n. ci. Head of nucleus caudatus, invisible 
 in the drawing because covered with fibres. 
 
 n. cs. Middle part, and 
 n. 3. Tail of nucleus caudatus. 
 
 x. Represents the place where the lentiform body lies buried under- 
 neath the protruding fibres. 
 
 C. C. Corpus Callosum, connecting the two hemispheres with each 
 other. 
 
 F. F2, Fj. Fornix, or the Vault ; thick bundles of white fibres, rising in 
 the marginal circumvolution of the temporal lobe (gyrus hippocampi), over- 
 arching the thalamus and descending to the corpora candicantia, underneath 
 the front part of the thalamus. 
 
 The lateral ventricle lies between the fornix, the tailed body which 
 forms its floor, and the corpus callosum which forms its roof. The right 
 lateral ventricle is separated from the left through a double-walled mem- 
 brane, called septum lucidum. Each lateral ventricle possesses three cavities 
 which are called its anterior, lateral, and posterior horns. 
 V. Lateral ventricle, posterior horn. 
 
 vi. The anterior horn of the lateral ventricle, between the corpus callo- 
 sum above and the front part of the fornix below. 
 
 v2. The lateral or middle horn of the lateral ventricle, its floor being 
 the lower part of the fornix. 
 
 i, Insula Reil, being the deepest portion of the Fissure of Silvius. 
 
THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 body, and it engirds in its tail-like elongation the 
 thalamus opticus from which it is distinctly separated 
 by a sharp groove (stria terminalis) in which runs a 
 small bundle of white fibres, tenia semicircularis which 
 is the continuation of the olfactory nerve rising from 
 
 THE CORONAL CONNECTIONS OF THE THALAMUS WITH THE CORTEX, 
 
 (Diagrammatic. After Edinger.) 
 
 There are four groups of nerve-fibers: the anterior, posterior, superior, 
 and inferior stems. The last one is marked U. S. All these bundles pass 
 through the internal capsule. 
 
 NUCLEUS CAUDATUS. (After Edinger.) 
 
THE HEMISPHERIC REGION. 151 
 
 the olfactory ganglion. The nucleus caudatus forms 
 the floor of the posterior horn of the lateral ventricle, 
 and its tail ends in an eminence, called the amygdaloid 
 tubercle. 
 
 A great part of the coronal nerve fibres rise from 
 the thalamus. These nerves connect the thalamus 
 with almost all regions of the hemispheres ; near the 
 thalamus they are gathered in bundles called the stems 
 of the thalamus. 
 
 For further information we refer to the adjoined 
 illustrations and diagrams, representing the brain, in 
 coronal, sagital, and horizontal sections. 
 
 Coronal sections are such as run parallel to the 
 
 A 
 
 CORONAL SECTION OF BRAIN. (After Edinger.) 
 AA, BB, CC Indicate the three horizontal sections on pp. 153, 154, 155. 
 
152 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Cr, 
 
 SAGITAI. MEDIAN SECTION OF BRAIN. 
 
 F. M. Foramen Monro, the entrance from the third ventricle into the 
 lateral ventricle. 
 
 S. M. Sulcus Monro, a groove of the third ventricle in the thalamus. 
 
 St. Septum pellucidum, a membrane forming the inner wall of the 
 lateral ventricle. Each ventricle having its own septum pellucidum, there 
 are two septa directly facing each other. The space between them is 
 wrongly called the ventricle of the septum pellucidum. This space is, in 
 fact, no ventricle, but must be conceived as the continuation of the fissure 
 between both frontal lobes. The continuity of this fissure with the ventricle 
 of the septum pellucidum has been interrupted by the growth of the corpus 
 callosum. The corpus callosum (the commissural fibres joining both hemis- 
 pheres) is little developed in lower mammals, it is strongly developed in the 
 monkey and is still more prominent in man. 
 
 Ccl. i. Rostrum or Beak, lowest part of the corpus callosum. 
 
 Ccl. 2. Genu or Knee of corpus callosum. 
 
 Ccl. j. Upper surface of corpus callosum. 
 
 Ccl. 4. Splenium or Wedge ; posterior part of corpus callosum. 
 
 Cba. Peduncles of corpus callosum. 
 
 Com, Commissura Media, connecting the two thalami. (Gray substance). 
 
 Coo.. Commissura anterior, inter-connecting the temporal lobes. 
 
 Cop. Commissura posterior ; white fibres connecting both thalami. 
 
 Let. Lamina cinerea terminalis ; part of tuber cinereum, originally the 
 top and terminus of the primitive brain (as explained in the development of 
 the brain). 
 
 //. Optic nerve. 
 
 Hi, Chiasma of optic nerve. 
 
 H. Hypophysis or pituitary body. 
 
 TV.. Tuber cinereum. 
 
 Cca. Corpus candicans. 
 
 P. Pons. 
 
 Jfe. Medulla oblongata. 
 
 Vq. Fourth ventricle. 
 
 A. Aquaductus Sylvii. 
 
 Fta. Incisura pallii, sup. vale. 
 
 Ftp. Vallecula, posterior vale. 
 
 Lq. Four Hills. 
 
 Cn. Conarium or pineal gland, 
 
 Cbl. Cerebellum. 
 
THE HEMISPHERIC REGION. 
 
 coronal suture of the cranium. For instance a ver- 
 tical section through both ears is a coronal section. 
 Sagital sections are such as run parallel to the sagital 
 suture of the cranium. The sagital suture stands like 
 an arrow on the string of a bow at right angles upon 
 the coronal suture. 
 
 t 
 
 FIRST HORIZONTAL SECTION OF BRAIN. (After Henly.) 
 Indicated in the coronal section by an imaginary line to be drawn through 
 
 AA, and laying bare the corpus callosum (Germ. Balkeri). 
 Lt. Ligamentum tectum, Striae longitudinalis Lancisi. 
 Sim. Striae longitudinalis mediates; white longitudinal fibres, interlacing 
 
 in several places, running along in the middle of the corpus callosum. The 
 
 mass of white substance between the cortex and corpus callosum is called 
 
 Centrum Semiovale. Ccl, Corpus callosum, 
 
THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 SECOND HORIZONTAL SECTION OF BRAIN. (After Edinger.) 
 Indicated in the coronal section by an imaginary line to be drawn through 
 BB, laying bare the thalamus and nucleus caudatus. 
 
 The occipital lobes in reality appear as close together as the frontal lobes, 
 so as to cover the cerebellum. 
 
 The Fornix rising in front from both thalami shows a cross-section in 
 F.II. The fornix overarches the tbalamus and descends to the marginal 
 convolution on the base of the brain, which is visible in F.I only. This con- 
 volution is called the Gyrus Hippocampi. The gyrus hippocampi passes 
 from the occipital lobe into the front lower part of the temporal lobe, where 
 it is cailed Gyrus Uncinatus or hooked circumvolution. 
 
THE HEMISPHERIC REGION. 155 
 
 Ph 
 
 THIRD HORIZONTAL SECTION OF BRAIN. (After Flechsig.) 
 
 Indicated in the coronal section by an imaginary line to be drawn 
 through CC. 
 
 Th. Thalamus. /. K. Internal capsule posterior 
 
 Me. Middle commissure. limb. 
 
 f. Fornix. K. Knee of internal capsule. 
 
 si. Septum lucidum. E. K. External capsule between 
 
 sp. Splenium. lenticular body and claustrum. 
 
 N. C. Nucleus caudatus. Cls. Claustrum. 
 
 ah. Anterior horn of lateral In. Insula. 
 
 ventricle. o. Operculum. 
 
156 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 FOR CUT SEE PRECEDING PAGE. 
 
 ph. Posterior horn of lateral ven- F. Frontal lobe, 
 
 tricle. ////. Third frontal circumvolu- 
 
 C'. Tail of nucleus caudatus. 
 
 L. N. Lenticular body. 
 
 /. K' . Internal capsule anterior 
 limb. 
 
 tion. 
 
 O. Occipital lobe. 
 
 T. S. Temporo-sphenoidal lobe. 
 
 , 
 
 CROSS-SECTION THROUGH CYRUS HIPPOCAMPI. (After Edinger.) 
 The gyrus hippocampi is accompanied by a smaller circumvolution, the 
 gyrus dentatus, (or fascia dentata) which is almost bare of all gray substance. 
 It produces by protrusion inside a ridge in the lateral ventricle, called Horn 
 of Ammon, or pes hippocampi major. The fornix rises from fibres origin- 
 ating in the gyrus dentatus, where it is called Fimbria. 
 
 All the marginal circumvolutions of the hemispheres ; viz., the gyrus 
 fornicatus, which surrounds the corpus callosum, its continuation, the gyrus 
 hippocampi with the fascia dentata, and the cornu Ammonis, and also the 
 nerve-fibres of the striae Lancisi are strongly developed in animals in whom 
 the function of smell is prominent. In the foetal stage and in infants they 
 are comparatively large ; in the adult man they are almost atrophied. In the 
 dolphin" who has no olfactory bulb, they are found in a state of retrogression. 
 
THE CORTEX AND ITS RELATIONS. 
 
 THE end-stations of the innumerable fibres of the 
 corona radiata are the gray cells of the Cortex. These 
 gray cells form the ganglionic element of the hemi- 
 spheres. In the human brain they are associated among 
 themselves by many systems of commissural fibres, 
 which although extremely complex and numerous, are 
 yet very economically arranged. Almost every prov- 
 ince of the brain stands in direct relation with other 
 provinces. 
 
 The white fibres of the brain accordingly consist first 
 of ascending, and secondly of descending nerves, all of 
 which are gathered together in the capsules. A dissec- 
 tion of these bundles would therefore destroy the con- 
 nections of the Cortex with all the lower centres of the 
 nervous system. Through these narrow passages all 
 sensory impressions rise into, and all voluntary motor 
 impulses descend from, the hemispheric region. But 
 besides the ascending and descending fibres, there is 
 a third class which we call commissural fibres, serving 
 the purpose of inter-communication among the cor- 
 tical cells, and establishing relations also between the 
 cortex and the hemispheric ganglions (nucleus cauda- 
 tus and nucleus lentiformis). 
 
 There are commissural fibres which interconnect 
 the two hemispheres. The most important tract of 
 these nerves forms a thick and broad body of a tough 
 structure, called corpus callosum (German Balkeri). A 
 
158 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 smaller tract of this kind is the anterior commissure. 
 Fibres of the anterior commissure inter- connect both 
 temporal lobes, while the corpus callosum appears to 
 bring all other parts of the one hemisphere into rela- 
 tion with the corresponding parts of the other. 
 
 The most important bundles that associate the dif- 
 ferent provinces of the same hemisphere are $&& fasci- 
 culus arcuatus (arching bundle), the fasciculus unci- 
 natus (the hooked bundle), the fasciculus longitudina- 
 lis inferior (the lower longitudinal bundle) and the cin- 
 gulum or girdle. 
 
 COMMISSURAL FIBRES OF THE HEMISPHERES. (After Edinger.) 
 
 According to experiments made by Charcot, a dis- 
 section of two- thirds of the front part of the internal 
 capsule produces paralysis, while a dissection of the 
 posterior limb, the third and hindmost part of the 
 capsula interna, is accompanied with anaesthesia. 
 This proves that the anterior fibres of the capsule are 
 mainly motor, and the posterior fibres sensory nerves. 
 
CORTEX AND ITS RELATIONS. 159 
 
 SAGITTAL MEDIAN SECTION. 
 
 (After Edinger.) 
 
 Showing the course of some tracts of 
 the corona radiata. The strongest 
 bundle in the middle is the pyramidal 
 tract. The decussation of the pyram- 
 idal tract is visible below the medulla 
 oblongata. 
 
 The rays of the tegmentum (Haubenstrahlung) rise from the tegmen- 
 tum (Haube], 
 
 There are two connections with the Pons (Brilcke}. 
 
 CORONAL SECTION THROUGH THE BRAIN, 
 
 Showing the connections between both He- 
 mispheres by the corpus callosum and the 
 commissura anterior. (After Edinger.) 
 
 FIERCE 
 
 (After Edinger.) 
 Nerve fibres connecting ad- 
 jacent circumvolutions. 
 
i6o 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 FIBRES OF THE HEMISPHERES. 
 
 Diagram of the connections between the Striped Body and the Cortex. 
 (After Huguenin, reproduced from Charcot.) 
 
 NC. Nucleus caudatus. 
 
 CO. Tbalamus opticus (French, 
 couche optique}. 
 
 NL. Nucleus lentiformis, having 
 three segments. 
 
 AM. Claustrum (French, avant 
 mur). 
 
 Cf. Capsula interna. 
 
 CE. Capsula externa. 
 
 PP. ^Crus cerebri 
 
 CA. Cornu Ammonis. 
 
 NI. Insula. 
 
 FL, Fibres of crus in connection 
 with nucleus lentiformis. 
 
 F2f. Fibres of nucleus lentifor- 
 mis in connection with cortex. 
 
 FK. Fibres of nucleus caudatus in 
 connection with cortex. 
 
 FD. Direct fibres, establishing a 
 direct connection between cortex and 
 crus. 
 
 CC, Corpus callosum. 
 
CORTEX AND ITS RELATIONS. 
 
 161 
 
 STRONGLY MAGNIFIED SECTION 
 OF CORTICAL SUBSTANCE. 
 
 (After Edinger.) 
 
 (Taken from the frontal lobe 
 
 of a human brain.) 
 
 The most superficial layer 
 of gray cells (i) is covered 
 with a net-work of extremely 
 fine white fibres (tangential 
 fibres) ; the cells of the lower 
 strata are the larger, the 
 deeper they are situated. 
 The second layer passes grad- 
 ually into the third, contain- 
 ing large pyramidal cells. 
 The fourth layer contains 
 smaller cells. 
 
 These four layers are inter- 
 sected by white fibres which, * 
 enumerating them from be- 
 low, Edinger calls, a) radii 
 or medullar rays; b) inter- 
 radiary net-work ; c) Grenna- 
 ry's layer (called after Gren- 
 nary who described these 
 fibres); d) superradiary net- 
 work; and e] tangential fibres. 
 
 The right part is prepared 
 with Weigert's Haemotoxy- 
 line, the left part with Gol- 
 gi's sublimate, showing on 
 the left side the fibres and on 
 the right side the gray cells 
 only. There are many more 
 gray cells than appear in the 
 diagram. Their number is 
 reduced in order to s h o w 
 their relations more clearly. 
 The gray cells appear some- 
 what larger than they ought 
 to, because the sublimate 
 employed, according to Gol- 
 gi's method, not only colors 
 the gray substance, but fills 
 the holl iw spaces round the 
 cells and their processes 
 also. 
 
1 62 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The Cortex, or gray substance of the hemispheres, 
 is a very complex substance, which shows a great va- 
 riety in the different parts of the brain. It consists of 
 several layers of gray cells of different size embedded 
 into white fibres. The adjoined diagram represents a 
 strongly magnified section of the Cortex, taken from 
 the frontal lobe, and prepared with two different chemi- 
 cals. The left side makes the gray cells come out 
 strongly, while the white fibres disappear. In the 
 left side, on the contrary, the gray matter disappears, 
 while the white fibres come out so as to be plainly 
 visible. 
 
LOCALIZATION OF BRAIN ACTIVITY. 
 
 FISSURES AND CONVOLUTIONS. 
 
 IT is commonly acknowledged that the hemispheres 
 are the seat of all psychic activity. This, however, is 
 true in a limited sense only. Properly speaking man 
 does not think with his brain alone ; he thinks with 
 his entire body. Yet in the brain, especially in the 
 hemispheres and the hemispheric ganglions (nucleus 
 caudatus and nucleus lentiformis}, his psychic activity 
 is concentrated. The co-operation of every part of the 
 organism is necessary to produce thought as the final 
 result at the centre of the organism's activity. 
 
 Flourens proposed the theory, that the hemispheres 
 performed their functions in a way such that the entire 
 cortex is always engaged in any kind of mental work 
 performed. If part of the cortical substance be lost, 
 Flourens maintains that all the functions will be pro- 
 portionately affected. 
 
 Goltz adopted Flourens's view to the extent of hold- 
 ing, that in case of a loss of cortical matter some homol- 
 ogous substance would perform the functions of the por- 
 tion lost. The vicarious activity of brain-substance ap- 
 pears to be a well-established fact, although it does not 
 take place to such an extent and in such a way as Flou- 
 
1 64 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 rens supposed. "The different parts of the hemispheres 
 are," as Prof. Hering says, "like a great toolbox with 
 innumerable kinds of tools. Each single cerebral 
 element is a particular tool. Consciousness may be 
 likened to a workingman whose tools gradually become 
 so numerous, so various, and so specialized that he 
 has for every detail of his work a tool which is spe- 
 cially adapted to perform just this kind of work very 
 easily and accurately. If he loses one of his tools, 
 he still possesses a thousand other tools to do the 
 same work although with more difficulty and loss of 
 time. Should he lose these thousand also, he might 
 retain hundreds, with which he can possibly do his 
 work still, but the difficulty increases. He must have 
 lost a very large number of his tools if certain actions 
 become absolutely impossible." 
 
 Gall was the first to propound a localization of the 
 different psychic functions. He started from the sup- 
 position that the skull being the case of the brain ought 
 to show its formation, and he founded upon this sup- 
 position his phrenology. The skull shows indeed the 
 formation of the brain, but it shows its outward shape 
 only ; and even that imperfectly, because different 
 craniums vary very materially in thickness. Yet in 
 judging about the formation of the brain, the internal 
 structures are of much greater importance. Gall's 
 phrenology, being in fact a kind of cranioscopy, is now 
 entirely abandoned. 
 
 It is strange that most of the meritorious discov- 
 eries of this great scientist are little known outside of a 
 narrow circle of specialists, while the error of his 
 phrenology has become a favorite idea among half- 
 
LOCALIZATION. 
 
 scientific people and has made his name extremely 
 popular. 
 
 Gall's idea of a localization of the different func- 
 tions of the hemispheres has been revived in later 
 years, yet upon another basis and in an entirely new 
 shape. The modern conception of localized brain- 
 functions is based upon experiments and affords at the 
 same time a more precise and definite idea of the 
 modus operandi of the brain. 
 
 KHRENOLOGY. 
 
 II. 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 VII 
 
 Sexual instinct. 
 
 Love of children. 
 
 Friendship. 
 
 Self-preservation. 
 
 Homicidal impulses. 
 
 Smartness. 
 
 Acquisitiveness. 
 
 VIII. Ambition. 
 
 IX. Vanity. 
 
 X. Circumspection. 
 
 XI. Memory for objects. 
 
 XII. Sense of locality. 
 
 XIII. Memory for persons.* 
 
 XIV. Memory for words.* 
 
 (After Gall.) 
 
 XV. Language.* 
 
 XVI. Painting (sense of colors). 
 
 XVII. Music. 
 
 XVIII. Numbers and arithmetic* 
 
 XIX. Mechanical abilities. 
 
 XX. Comparison. 
 
 XXI. Profoundness. 
 
 XXII. Wit. 
 
 XXIII. Poetry. 
 
 XXIV. Goodnaturedness. 
 
 XXV. Imitation.* 
 
 XXVI. Religion. 
 XXVII Enthusiasm 
 
 * Do not appear in the cut. 
 
 The outward surface of the cortex looks like a 
 a tract of land in which many rivers and brooks have 
 produced furrows. The furrows are called sulci or 
 
1 66 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 fissures, and the ridges between them are called 
 convolutions. The fissures are produced to effect an 
 economy of space ; in so far as by their presence the 
 area of cortical substance is greatly increased without 
 any considerable increase of the size of the head ; and 
 it has been observed that the higher the intelligence 
 of an animal is, the richer is its brain in convolu- 
 tions. 
 
 The immediate cause of the fissures are the arteries. 
 The cortical substance is in greater need of arterial 
 blood than any other part of the body. The more 
 work an animal has to do with its brain, the more 
 blood is needed in the cortex. Thus the arteries sur- 
 rounding the superficial structures of the hemispheres 
 become stronger and sink deeper, and the fissures are 
 produced as if to form a natural system of irriga- 
 tions. The fissures are, as Seitz calls them, nutrimen- 
 tral channels,* Nahrschlitze. 
 
 The names of the different parts of the hemi- 
 spheres, their lobes, convolutions, and fissures may 
 be studied in the adjoined diagrams. The most im- 
 portant fissures are the fissure of Rolando or sulcus 
 centralis^ which is the province of the motor centres, 
 and the fissure of Sylvius, which, together with the 
 adjoining part of the third frontal convolution in the 
 left hemisphere, is the centre of speech. 
 
 The attempts at localizing the different functions of 
 the cortex have been but partly successful. The most 
 prominent workers in this line of investigation are 
 Fritsch and Hitzig, Ferrier, Exner, Goltz, Munck, 
 and others. The results are shown in the diagrams 
 of the following chapter on pp. 170 and 171. 
 
 * Johannes Seitz : Ueber die Bedeutung der Hirnfurchung. Leipzig and 
 f 1887. 
 
LOCALIZATION. 
 
 Gca 
 
 i6 7 
 
 THE LEFT HEMISPHERE. (After Henle.) 
 
 The fissure of Silvius is drawn aside so as to show the extent of the In- 
 sula. The insula contains one long and two short convolutions, called 
 gyrus longus and gyri breves. The cortical substance which covers the insula 
 in a. is called operculum. 
 
 In. Insula. 
 
 Sc. Sulcus centralis, or fissure of Rolando. 
 
 Gca. Gyrus centralis anterior. 
 
 Gcp. Gyrus centralis posterior. 
 
 SIDE VIEW OF THE BRAIN. (After Ecker.) 
 The convolutions and lobes are in Roman letters, the fissures in Italics. 
 
1 68 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 LONGITUDINAL SECTION OF THE BRAIN. 
 
LOCALIZATION. 169 
 
 1 1. 
 MOTORY AND SENSORY CENTRES. 
 
 THE most important motory regions of the human 
 brain are, according to all authorities on the subject, situ- 
 ated around the fissure of Rolando. There is less agree- 
 ment concerning the sensory centres. The optic cen- 
 tre is situated, according to Meynert, Munk, and Hu- 
 guenin, in the first, second, and third occipital lobes ; 
 according to Exner, in the first and second only, and 
 in the upper part of the cuneus. 
 
 The acoustic centre lies in the temporal lobes. Ir- 
 ritations of these centres cause hallucinations of hear- 
 ing. In post mortem examinations Huguenin found 
 the temporal lobes of deaf patients in an atrophied 
 condition. 
 
 The centres of taste and smell are, according to 
 Ferrier, supposed to be situated in the uncus gyri for- 
 nicati. 
 
 The tactile centres, according to Trippier, Exner, 
 Petrina and others, must be sought for in the regions 
 of their respective motory centres. 
 
 The frontal lobe does not contain either motory or 
 sensory centres. It seems to be in the service of more 
 abstract kinds of mental activity, and is most likely 
 also the seat of affectionate and emotional centres. 
 Defects of this part, be they acquired or inherited, are 
 as a rule accompanied with idiocy or lack of intelli- 
 gence. Monkeys in whom the frontal lobes were re- 
 moved, showed no irregularities in the exercise of 
 their motory and sensory functions ; yet they appeared 
 more whimsical and less affectionate than before. 
 
170 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 (After Ferrier.) 
 
 A. Side view of left hemisphere. 
 
 B, Upper surface of left hemisphere. 
 
 1. Putting forward of opposite leg, as in walk- 
 ing. 
 
 2. Complex movements of thigh, leg, and 
 foot, with adapted movements of trunk. 
 
 3. Movements of tail. 
 
 4. Retraction and adduction of opposite fore-limb. 
 
 5. Extension forward of opposite arm and hand, as if to reach or touch 
 something in front. 
 
 a, b, c, d. Successive complex movements of fingers and wrist, ending in 
 clinching of fist. 
 
 6. Supination and flexion of forearm, by which the hand is raised toward 
 the mouth. 
 
 7. Action of the zygomatic muscle by which the angle of the mouth is re- 
 tracted and elevated. 
 
 8. Elevation of the ala of nose and the upper lip, with depression of lower 
 lip so as to expose the canine teeth on the opposite side. 
 
 9. Opening of mouth with protrusion of tongue. 
 
 10. Opening of mouth with retraction of tongue. 
 
 11. Retraction of angle of mouth. 
 
 12. Eyes opening widely, pupils dilating, head and eyes turning toward 
 opposite side. 
 
 13. 13'. Eyeballs moving to opposite side, pupils generally contracting. 
 
 14. Sudden retraction of opposite ear. 
 
 15. Torsion of lip and nostril on the same side. This place is situated in 
 (he subiculum of Cornu Ammonis. 
 
LOCALIZATION. 
 
 171 
 
 DOG S BRAIN. 
 
 A-J. Indicates Sensory Centres. 
 
 A. Vision. 
 
 B. Hearing. 
 C-J. Touch of. 
 
 a-f. Indicate motory centres. 
 
 a. Neck. 
 
 a '. Back. [Foreleg. 
 
 b. Extensors and Adductors of 
 
 c. Flexors and Bronators of Foreleg. 
 
 (After Munk.) 
 
 C. Hindlegs. G. Ears. 
 
 D. Forelegs. H. Neck. 
 
 E. Head. J. Trunk. 
 
 F. Eyes. 
 
 d. Muscles of Hindleg. 
 
 e. Focialis. 
 
 e'. Upper region of Facialis. 
 
 f. Muscles of the eye. 
 
 g. Muscles of chewing. 
 
 MONKEY'S BRAIN. (After Munk.) 
 Explanation the same as in the preceding cut 
 
172 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 in. 
 LOSS OF BRAIN SUBSTANCE. 
 
 IT is strange that a man may lose large portions of 
 the cortical substance of his brain, without showing 
 any apparent loss of faculty. If the motor centres are 
 injured, the effect will always be an impairment 
 of the voluntary motions of the opposite side ; yet 
 the loss of sensory or other centres in one hemisphere 
 will not be noticeable so long as the other hemisphere 
 remains sound except that such half brained persons 
 will tire more quickly than normal people. We may 
 explain this strange fact by comparing it to the condi- 
 tion of a man who has lost one eye. If the loss of the 
 eye were not noticeable (perhaps because the man 
 wears an excellently imitated artificial eye), it would 
 by our ordinary methods of observation be very diffi- 
 cult to detect the loss. 
 
 The following facts from which this rule is de- 
 duced, are collected in Hermann's " Physiologie," 
 Vol II, 2. p. 333 : 
 
 " Berenger de Carpi tells of a young man into whose brain a 
 body four finger-breadths in width and as many in length had 
 been driven so deep that it lay concealed by the matter of the 
 brain. When it was removed a certain amount of cerebral sub- 
 stance was lost, and thirteen days afterwards a second discharge 
 occurred spontaneously. The man recovered, showed no diseased 
 symptoms, lived for a long time afterwards, and attained high dis- 
 tinction in the Church. 
 
 " Longet knew a general who through a wound in the skull 
 near the crown of the head had suffered a considerable loss of 
 brain-substance. This defect permanently manifested itself by a 
 
LOCALIZATION. 173 
 
 depression in the part of the skull affected. The general preserved 
 his activity of mind ; his correct judgment in professional matters 
 exhibited no traces of disease ; only he was wont to tire quickly 
 when engaged in intellectual work. 
 
 " Quesnay tells of an old servant whose right parietal bone 
 was crushed. Every day cerebral matter oozed from the wound, 
 and was removed. On the eighteenth day the patient fell out of 
 bed, which resulted in further considerable losses of brain-sub- 
 stance. On the thirty-fifth day he got drunk ; a fresh emission of 
 cerebral matter occurred, which was caused by the patient's tearing 
 away in his intoxication the bandage about the wcund. On the 
 day following it could be seen that the defect reached almost to 
 the corpus callosum. The patient got well ; his psychical functions 
 were restored to their complete activity ; but he remained para- 
 lyzed on his left side. 
 
 "During the blasting of a rock, a crow-bar three feet and 
 seven inches long and one and a quarter inches thick struck a 
 young man, and penetrating the head in the neighborhood of the 
 joint of the left jaw, passed through the skull and came out on the 
 same side in the region of the forehead, having thus run through 
 the hemisphere of the brain. The man got well, lived twelve and 
 a half years afterwards, and apart from the blindness caused by 
 the injury to the eye he showed no indications of abnormality, ex- 
 cept certain fits of peevishness, caprice, and obstinacy. 
 
 " A whole hemisphere may be removed, without injury to the 
 psychical functions. But in that case disturbances of the motory 
 functions on the opposite side appear regularly to set in. 
 
 " A psychically normal individual that as it happened was 
 paralyzed since his birth on the right side, died of phthisis. Upon 
 dissection the place of the right hemisphere was found to be filled 
 with some kind of serous fluid." 
 
 IV. 
 THE CENTRE OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 There is a region in the cortex, a lesion of which 
 produces almost without any exception disturbances 
 and even loss of speech. It is accordingly called the 
 
-174 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Centre of Language. This region is situated in the 
 island of Reil at the bottom of the fissure of Sylvius 
 and extends over the parts adjacent to the island, es- 
 pecially the third frontal convolution. 
 
 The centre of language is unilateral and must be 
 sought as a rule in the left hemisphere. However 
 there are some exceptions. We have reason to believe 
 that left-handed people are right-brained speakers. 
 Left-handed people who had lost the power of speech 
 were found to have suffered injuries in the right hem- 
 isphere, but whenever their left hemisphere hap- 
 pened to be affected they had not lost the power of 
 speech. 
 
 Loss of language, or aphasia, may have various 
 causes, and will accordingly present different symptoms. 
 It need not at all be due to a derangement of mental 
 powers but maybe a loss merely of the motor capacity 
 of speech. In that case it is more properly called 
 paralysis of speech. The patient may still be able to 
 write what he means. Yet the ability to write may 
 be lost also ; this disease is called agraphia. Agraphia 
 is not a paralysis of the hand ; it is a paralysis of the 
 memories of penmanship. The hand may be able 
 to perform all the single motions necessary for 
 writing, but the patient has lost the power of co- 
 ordinating these movements so as to write words ; 
 he is like an uneducated man who has not learned 
 how to write. In that case the patient may be able 
 to communicate through gestures or pantomime. 
 Should the power of making gestures be lost also, the 
 patient may nevertheless know everything he wants 
 and may possess full clearness of his mind ; he may 
 think of the words even which he intends to use (as 
 we know from patients who have recovered from such 
 
LOCALIZATION. 175 
 
 diseases), yet he is not able to communicate his 
 thoughts. 
 
 Quite different from these forms of a paralysis of 
 speech is the amnestic aphasia which is caused by an 
 obliteration of the word-memories themselves. In that 
 case, the patient can perhaps read and repeat, he can 
 pronounce every word correctly, he can also write 
 from dictation. The different motor centres are un- 
 impaired, yet the words, or certain categories, are no 
 longer at the patient's disposal. They are* as if for- 
 gotten, blotted out of his memory, and wrapped in ob- 
 livion. Amnestic aphasia usually shows in post mortem 
 examinations a destruction of the first frontal con- 
 volution on the left side where it is in relation with 
 the island of Reil. 
 
 As a special form of amnestic aphasia we may con- 
 sider the state in which ideas are not associated with 
 their words. The ideas as well as the words are still 
 extant, yet their connection is destroyed, the fibres of 
 association are interrupted. 
 
 We quote from Hermann's " Physiologic " Profes- 
 sor Exner's report of the present state of investigation 
 concerning the cortical centre of speech. Professor 
 Exner says : 
 
 "If a man gives an appropriate answer to a ques- 
 tion, the following things must, it is evident, take 
 place within him : 
 
 (1) He must hear the words spoken ; 
 
 (2) These words must awaken in him the ideas that 
 belong to them ; 
 
 (3) From the mental operation conducted with the 
 help of these ideas, a resultant product must issue ; 
 
 (4) This product must be clothed in words ; 
 
176 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 (5) The central innervations necessary to the utter- 
 ance of these words must be brought about ; and finally 
 
 (6) These innervations must arrive at the proper 
 muscles in their proper order and intensity. 
 
 " If the first requisite is not fulfilled, we are dealing 
 with a deaf person ; if the last is not fulfilled, most 
 probably with a patient suffering from some affection 
 in the cms ; if the mental operation mentioned under 
 (3) is not accomplished, it is a case of dementia ; all 
 other interruptions or disturbances of the above-men- 
 tioned processes, viz. (2), (4), and (5), lead to aphasia. 
 
 "Cases of diseases occur that are only to be inter- 
 preted upon the supposition that the power of com- 
 prehension of words mentioned under (2) has been 
 lost. We have here to do with patients that are very 
 well able to speak words but do not understand them, 
 though their hearing be good. An example will illus- 
 trate this : * 
 
 " ' A woman 25 years of age, ten days after parturition, while 
 violently straining to relieve her bowels, suddenly became uncon- 
 scious. When consciousness returned she exhibited no symptoms 
 of paralysis, but was suffering from aphasia and paraphasia.f 
 
 " ' It was with difficulty, or not at all, that she found words to 
 speak with ; she confounded or mutilated them, said " Butter " in- 
 stead of ' 'Doctor, " omitted words and syllables, supplied others, used 
 the infinitive for the determinate moods, and conjugated irregular 
 verbs regularly. Not understanding a single word at first, she was 
 taken to be deaf. It soon turned out however that she heard a 
 knock at the door and even the ticking of a watch as distinctly as 
 ever before ; she distinguished the bells of two different apart- 
 ments of the house by their sound, etc., etc.' 
 
 *This case is from Schmidt (Allgemeine Zeitschrift fiir Psychiatric, 
 XXVII, p. 304, 1871); cited from Kussmaul's Storungen der Spruc/ie , p. 176, 
 Leipzig, 1877 a work to be recommended to all who are interested in the 
 present state of knowledge upon this subject. 
 
 t This word denotes a disturbance of speech in which, instead of the 
 words that fit the sense, other, improper words, or wholly meaningless com- 
 binations of words, are employed. 
 
LOCALIZA TION. 1 77 
 
 " In cases of aphasia like this, the patient stands 
 in a relation somewhat like that in which we would 
 conceive an intelligent animal to stand that hears well 
 enough the language of the people about him, but 
 does not understand it. The patient cannot properly 
 be compared to a well person that hears a foreign 
 language, since the latter when the name of an object 
 is told him retains the same ; but not so a person suf- 
 fering from aphasia. As Kussmaul pointed out, these 
 forms of aphasia prove that the locality of the brain 
 with which the sensation of the sounds of single 
 vowels and consonants is connected, is a different one 
 from that in which an acoustical word-image is appre- 
 hended as the symbol of a concept." 
 
 " No case has come to my knowledge," Professor 
 Exner continues, "in which this ' word-deafness ' 
 has not also been combined with ' word-blindness ' ; 
 that is to say, if a patient has lost the power to 
 associate the words he has heard with their proper 
 ideas, he is also unable to do this with written words, 
 although he may be able to see as well as a person in 
 the normal condition.* In this, and in many another 
 connection, the case of Lordat has acquired much 
 interest and celebrity. Lordat, who was himself pro- 
 fessor of medicine, suffered several months from apha- 
 sia, and afterwards explained in detail the condition 
 in which he found himself during this period of ill- 
 ness. 
 
 " In the same way that the understanding for spoken 
 and written words can be lost, so can the power of 
 comprehension of figures. An accountant was able 
 
 * Yet cases are known, as mentioned above, in which a paralysis of speech 
 is not connected with a paralysis of writing or making oneself understood by 
 signs. For an instance of aphasia not accompanied by agraphia see infra 
 the case of the young clerk, (p. 179). 
 
178 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 to read the number 766 figure for figure, but did not 
 know what it meant that the figure 7 stood before the 
 two 6's. So the understanding of written musical 
 notes can be lost, although the patient be still able to 
 
 play well by ear. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 " In a second form of aphasia it is impossible for 
 the patient to clothe the results of his thoughts in words 
 [mentioned above under (4)], whether it be to utter 
 the same or to put them in writing. In most cases 
 of this kind the word is simply forgotten. If it 
 be told the patient, he can repeat it and even write it, 
 but immediately forgets it again. By reason of the 
 last circumstance this form of aphasia is easily dis- 
 tinguishable from that first mentioned. 
 
 "It is striking that at times only single words or only 
 nouns, very frequently names, disappear from the 
 memory and are not again to be acquired. It also 
 comes to pass that only parts of words are forgotten. 
 
 " Thus, Graves tells of a case, where a man, six- 
 ty-five years of age, after an apoplectic fit forgot all the 
 proper names and substantives he knew but still re- 
 collected their initial letters. He accordingly compiled 
 an alphabetically arranged dictionary of the substan- 
 tives necessary for purposes of ordinary intercourse, 
 and whenever in conversation an object occurred to 
 him that he wanted to speak about he looked it up in his 
 dictionary. If he wanted to say Cow for instance, he 
 looked up his word under C. So long as he saw the 
 printed name with his eye he could speak it, a moment 
 afterwards he would be unable to do so. 
 
 " The extent to which the impairment may be modi- 
 fied and limited in the field of language, appears from 
 a case of Lasegue, who came across a musician who was 
 
LOCALIZATION'. 179 
 
 totally aphasic and agraphic, but could take down in 
 notes a tune that he had heard. 
 
 "A third form of aphasia is characterized by the 
 circumstance that the patient is able to clothe his 
 thoughts in words but is not able to bring about the 
 central innervations necessary to the utterance of the 
 same [referred to above as process (5)]. That the pa- 
 tients execute mental operations and also clothe the 
 results of the same in words, appears with certainty 
 from the fact that they are able to write them down. 
 On the other hand they are also unable to repeat words 
 spoken to them, and in their efforts to do this they 
 show that the different parts of the mouth are able to 
 execute voluntary movements they distort their 
 mouth and twist the tongue about, but produce only 
 inarticulate sounds. 
 
 " ' A vigorous young clerk in an attack of unconsciousness had 
 lost completely the power of speech ; no other pathological symp- 
 toms appearing. He executed with facility all movements of 
 tongue and lips. As his duties were such that they could be at- 
 tended to with the pen, he kept his position. He gave his phy- 
 sician a carefully prepared account of his affliction.' 
 
 " With these patients it is not a question of inabil- 
 ity to find the innervations for certain letters as such, 
 but the difficulty is with the words, which they are 
 powerless to form. That this is true will appear from 
 the fact that many patients with whom a remnant of 
 speech has stillremained (and who, therefore, are still 
 able to utter single words, or it may be mutilated 
 words), although they have the power to speak a word 
 yet cannot speak that word when a syllable has been 
 left out or the order of the syllables changed, nor enun- 
 ciate a syllable when the order of the letters has been 
 changed ; for instance, if a patient can pronounce only 
 
i8o THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the syllable tan, he is in that case unable to say 
 nat. Secondly, this will appear from the fact, that a 
 patient who has command of a few words will be able 
 to pronounce a certain letter in one word and not in 
 another. 
 
 " The following case of a patient Le Long taken 
 from Broca will serve as an illustration of the con- 
 dition last described as well as of cases of incomplete 
 aphasia. ' Le Long had command of only fi-, T e words, 
 which he would add by way of supplement to the ex- 
 pressive gestures he usually employed ; they were out, 
 non, tots (for trots^, toujours, and Le Lo (for Le Long) 
 three complete words, accordingly, and two muti- 
 lated ones. With his auihe expressed affirmation, with 
 non negation ; with tois he expressed numerical con- 
 cepts of all degrees, being able to indicate by a dex- 
 terous employment of his fingers the number he had 
 in mind j with Le Lo he denoted himself ; toujours he 
 used when he was unable to express his thoughts by 
 the aid of the other words he commanded. Le Long 
 pronounced the r in toujours correctly, but omitted it 
 in trois, as children do that have not yet overcome the 
 difficulty of uniting the r with the preceding / ; he 
 had lost beyond recall this knack of articulation. The 
 nasal sound that he articulated in non he could not 
 give to the last letters of his own name.' 
 
 "It is also a remarkable phenomenon, that patients 
 who ordinarily have command of only a few words, 
 in moments of excitement bring out and perfectly 
 articulate more, and sometimes even ejaculate a very 
 long oath. Jackson reports, that aphasic patients who 
 are unable to answer No ' to ordinary questions, 
 suddenly find the power of utterance of this negation 
 
LOCALIZATION. 181 
 
 when aroused to it by ridiculous questions as < if they 
 are a hundred years old.' 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 "The processes that we have spoken of up to this 
 point, the disturbances of which lead to aphasia proper, 
 take place in the cortex. If the conduction towards 
 the muscles of the innervations properly induced in 
 the cortex is impaired, the power of speech is also 
 naturally affected ; the language of the patient be- 
 comes forced, letters are omitted, the patient stut- 
 ters, lisps, and at last becomes completely unintellig- 
 ible ; yet this is not a case of aphasia. [This is 
 paralysis of speech.] These disturbances of the paths 
 of conduction may be effected in the medullary matter 
 of the cerebral hemispheres ; most frequently, how- 
 ever, they must be sought in the nerve-nuclei of the 
 medulla oblongata, especially in the nucleus of the 
 hypoglossus as well as in that of the facialis accessorius 
 and of the vago-accessorius. 
 
 "As regards now the localization, of the functions 
 of speech in the cortex, this is a question that has 
 been so frequently discussed during the past few 
 decades, that it is impossible in this place to give a 
 complete presentation of the views and arguments 
 that have been held and propounded for and against 
 the same. We must confine ourselves to a review of 
 the results that may be derived with certainty from the 
 experiments of pathologists. 
 
 "The view at present held with regard to the posi- 
 tion and extent of the cortical province of speech, is 
 based upon innumerable data derived from dissections 
 of the brains of aphasic patients. It has gradually 
 arisen through the comparison and co-operative com- 
 pletion of the experiments of various investigators. 
 
1 82 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 "The first after Gall to assign to language a prov- 
 ince in the brain was Bouillaud, whose theories were 
 based upon observations and the data of dissection : 
 Bouillaud fixed the seat of articulation of words in the 
 frontal lobes. He did not succeed however, despite 
 a struggle continued through many years, in establish- 
 ing this idea, manifestly in consequence of the mis- 
 credit that it awakened by reason of its similarity to 
 Gall's views. This was also the fortune of M. Dax 
 and of his son G. Dax, who endeavored to prove by 
 the help of a rich collection of pathological cases, that 
 disturbances of speech regularly occur upon lesions of 
 the left hemisphere but not upon lesions of the right. 
 A reversion of the general opinion set in when, in the 
 year 1861, Broca, originally an opponent of Bouillaud, 
 adopted the doctrines of the latter in all their principal 
 points, and more accurately fixed them by affirming 
 that it was the gyrus frontalis inferior sinister which 
 must remain unimpaired if the power of speech is to 
 be retained. The circumstance that it is the left hemi- 
 sphere in whose province the special function of lan- 
 guage belongs, he later brought into connection with 
 the fact, that people as a rule employ this hemisphere 
 more, as well for mechanical operations as in writing, 
 all of which is done by preference with the right hand. 
 
 " From that time on, the doctrine of the localiza- 
 tion of the function of speech became almost generally 
 accepted, and the only question then before scientists 
 was, to determine with greater precision, by means of 
 new and thoroughly examined cases, the territorial 
 limits of this function, its individual deviations, and 
 the conditions of preference of the left hemisphere. 
 
 " The posterior part of the gyrus frontalis inferior 
 sinister and the island of Reil of the left side, must be 
 
LOCALIZATION. 183 
 
 regarded as the actual cortical province of speech : it 
 is exceptional that lesions of these parts do not pro- 
 duce disturbances of speech. On the other hand, 
 disturbances of speech sometimes occur even when 
 the lesion does not affect either of these two cortical 
 regions. But in these cases the lesions are almost 
 always in the adjacent portions of the cortex. It is 
 manifest that, in such exceptional cases, we have to 
 do with important individual deviations, and that the 
 cortical province, as it must be inferred for other rea- 
 sons, is not the same in all persons. 
 
 ' 'There is a very great number of cases which 
 sufficiently demonstrate the part played by the left in- 
 ferior convolution ; I shall cite here but a very strik- 
 ing one, reported by Simon. By a fall from a horse, 
 as was found out from a section afterwards made, a 
 man had driven a splinter of bone from the roof of the 
 skull into the convolution in question. No other in- 
 jury to the skull was discoverable. The man had 
 arisen immediately after his fall, and was about to 
 mount his horse again, when a physician who accom- 
 panied him asked that he submit to an examination. 
 No symptoms of disease whatsoever, except speech- 
 lessness, were noticeable. He was able to communi- 
 cate, however, by signs. He died later in consequence 
 of inflammatory affections which followed the injury 
 to the brain. 
 
 "According to statistics compiled by Lohmeyer, 
 in every fifty-three cases of aphasia there are about 
 thirty-four in which the left inferior frontal convolu- 
 tion is either alone the actual seat of disease or some- 
 how stands in connection with it. 
 
1 84 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 "The remarkable fact that in the production of 
 speech the left hemisphere is so much more directly 
 engaged than the right, is firmly established : Seguin 
 calculated, from a collection of two hundred and sixty 
 reports of cases of this type, that the number of in- 
 stances in which aphasia arises from lesion on the 
 left side, stands in proportion to the number of those 
 in which impairments occur on the right side, as 
 14-3 :i ; with reference to which it must be remarked 
 that as has been shown by other calculations no 
 deception is here caused by the possible circumstance 
 that in general more 1 injuries occur on the left side 
 than on the right. 
 
 "This fact, which does not wholly agree with the 
 ideas that we are accustomed to entertain of the cor- 
 tical functions in general, we must accept as such, 
 and seek only an incomplete analogy in the circum- 
 stance referred to by Broca, that our left hemisphere 
 must be more skillful and more practiced in the ex- 
 ecution of mechanical operations than the right. An 
 incomplete analogy, we say, by reason of the fact that 
 the direct innervations of the right hand are effected 
 unilaterally by the left hemisphere, the innervations 
 of the muscles of speech, on the other hand, take 
 place bilaterally. 
 
 " But to a certain extent the analogy holds. If as 
 the result of early lesions, or from birth, the motory 
 cortical province of the right arm is lacking, the indi- 
 viduals thus affected train the left arm that is the 
 right hemisphere to perform mechanical tasks. Cases 
 to this effect have been reported by Moneau, Kuss- 
 maul, and others. The same, we must presume, holds 
 good of language. Also in two cases on record, the dis- 
 turbance of the cortical province of speech dated from 
 
LOCALIZATION. 185 
 
 childhood ; and the fact that notwithstanding this 
 these people could speak well, is undoubtedly only to 
 be interpreted in the following way, that the island, 
 the lowest frontal convolution, etc. of the right hemi- 
 sphere had taken charge of the functions of language. 
 
 "In this connection a case reported by Schwarz 
 is of interest. In a well-developed three-year old girl, 
 during convalescence from measles, speechlessness 
 with partial paralysis of the right arm suddenly set in. 
 The lesion accordingly lay in the left hemisphere. 
 The condition of the patient improved, yet the girl 
 had to learn to talk again from the very beginning,, 
 and in so doing acted like the normal child that is 
 learning to speak. 
 
 "The left side, accordingly, does not exercise the 
 exclusive prerogative of the superintendence of speech. 
 
 "The analogy is still further applicable. It ap- 
 pears that so-called left-handed individuals, who as 
 contrasted with the majority of men have trained their 
 right and not their left hemisphere to perform mechan- 
 ical work, also employ their right hemisphere in 
 speech. Pye Smith, Jackson, and John Ogle, Mongie, 
 Russel, and Wm. Ogle have observed cases that ap- 
 pear to substantiate this. Left-handed people, namely, 
 had become aphasic through lesions on the right side 
 of the brain, and a fact which proves more where in 
 a collection which Wm. Ogle made of one hundred 
 cases of aphasia there were three left-handed men, in 
 the case of each the lesion affected the right hemi- 
 sphere." 
 
1 86 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 v. 
 EXPERIMENTS UPON ANIMALS. 
 
 IT is a strange fact that the hemispheres as well as 
 the corpus striatum exhibit no sensitiveness to pain 
 whatever. They can be cut, irritated, or maltreated in 
 any way without causing direct suffering. 
 
 Experiments have been made to deprive animals 
 (mostly pigeons, hens, and frogs, but also dogs) of 
 their entire hemispheres. A pigeon without its hemi- 
 spheres stands firmly on its feet if only the cerebellum 
 remains unimpaired, but has lost all signs of intelli- 
 gence. It behaves as if it were asleep. It will stand 
 quietly in one place for hours and hours. 
 
 A brainless pigeon is without clear consciousness 
 because it has lost all the memories to which sensory 
 irritations may be referred. Yet it is not entirely void 
 of feeling. The sensory and motory nerves perform 
 their functions as usual, and with perfect harmony. 
 The pigeon "quivers if a pistol is shot off near by ; 
 its eye winks at the approach of a flame, and the pu- 
 pils contract. It turns away from ammonia vapor" 
 (Landois). Its consciousness however, if conscious- 
 ness it can be called, is limited to the moment and to 
 that one sense-impression which takes place at the 
 moment. This sense-impression remains isolated, it 
 cannot be compared with former memories. Thus it 
 remains ununderstood, and is quickly forgotten. 
 
 Hens endure the operation better than other birds. 
 For a few hours, they lie exhausted ; then they rise 
 and remain in a sitting posture. Again, after hours, 
 they walk about, scratch the floor of the room, and af- 
 ter a few days they begin pecking for food, although 
 
LOCALIZATION. 187 
 
 there may be nothing on the ground. Some hens 
 learn again to eat and drink, if water and food is put 
 into their bills, arid thus can be kept alive as living 
 automatons for several months. (See Exner in Her- 
 mann's "Physiologic," Vol. II, Part II, p. 199.) 
 
 Frogs preserve perfectly their equilibrium after re- 
 moval of their hemispheres. If turned on their back, 
 they will rise to their feet If irritated, they will make 
 two or three jumps, with a view to escaping. If 
 thrown into water, they will swim until they touch the 
 wall of the basin ; then they will creep up on the 
 edge, where they remain. In all motions producible 
 as direct reflexes upon their proper irritations, they 
 show a perfect mastery of their limbs and harmony of 
 movement. Yet without irritation there is no motion; 
 there is no spontaneous voluntary action whatever. A 
 brainless frog, if left to itself, will remain quietly on 
 the spot where it has been placed, as if asleep ; it 
 will take no food, betrays no consciousness of hunger 
 or thirst, shows no sign of fear, and unless artificially 
 fed, will in time dry up like a mummy. 
 
 That which in animals and in man appears to us as 
 spontaneous and voluntary motion, is the result of 
 cerebration among the memory-pictures of the cortex, 
 acting, as we suppose, in co-operation with the cor- 
 pora striata. When the memory-pictures have been 
 removed, an animal is unable to act except in response 
 to sensory impressions, that is by direct reflex-mo- 
 tions. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Goltz invented a new method to remove the hemi- 
 spheres of animals, which has the advantage of caus- 
 ing less irritation than the scraping them out with a 
 knife or a sharpened spoon. He injected through 
 
1 88 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 small apertures in the skull a jet of cold water, and 
 thus succeeded in washing out the cortex without in- 
 juring other parts. Goltz distinguishes two kinds of 
 effects : those which after some time pass away and 
 those which remain for good. The former are mere 
 temporary disturbances, while the latter alone can be 
 considered as a loss of functions which have their seat 
 in the removed parts. 
 
 A dog that has been deprived of the greatest part 
 of his cortex is, as Goltz expresses it, an extremely 
 complex reflex-mechanism that eats {fressende Rcftcx- 
 maschine). He behaves like a perfect idiot, walks 
 slowly and awkwardly, with the head downwards. His 
 sense of touch all over the skin is obtuse. He shows 
 a lack of information concerning the surrounding world 
 and his own body which is mainly noticeable when he 
 is fed. He sees, but like a sleep-walker who avoids 
 obstacles without being aware of what they are. He 
 hears, for he can be roused from his sleep by loud 
 calls, but he hears like a man who is but half-awak- 
 ened from a profound sleep and has not as yet recov- 
 ered his full consciousness. The disturbances of all 
 the other senses are analogous. He howls when hungry, 
 but does not search for food. If fed, he eats until his 
 stomach is full. He shows no indications of sexual 
 instinct, and is generally without any interest or sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 VI. 
 
 MEYNERT'S THREE SYSTEMS OF PROJECTION 
 AND PSYCHICAL ACTIVITY. 
 
 THE motory as well as sensory centres of the hemi- 
 spheres must be considered as psychical regions; that 
 
LOCALIZATION. 189 
 
 is, they are the places in which the action of the nerv- 
 ous mechanism may be and often is accompanied with 
 consciousness. This is corroborated by the fact that 
 an irritation of these regions does not produce the 
 usual result in new-born animals ; their psychic activity 
 is not as yet developed and a few fibres only are dif- 
 ferentiated in the white nerve-substance of their hemi- 
 spheric region. In further support of this the circum- 
 stance can be adduced (according to Schiff), that these 
 cortical centres cease to work if the animal manipu- 
 lated upon is kept under the influence of chloroform 
 or other narcotics. 
 
 Consciousness is the most complex and concen- 
 trated form of feeling. Feelings, we can fairly assume, 
 may take place in all the innumerable cells of our body 
 so long as they are alive. But these feelings are ex- 
 tremely weak and by far the greater part remains iso- 
 lated. Feelings, we assume, depend upon a special 
 form of activity in animal substance. The sensory 
 fibres of the nervous system are a mechanism con- 
 structed to co-ordinate and concentrate the various 
 feelings; while the motor fibres co-ordinate the r^eflex- 
 activity in such a way that it may be subservient to, 
 that is, it may act upon irritations received from cer- 
 tain co-ordinated centres of feeling. The final con- 
 centration of both activities, sensory as well as motory, 
 takes place in the hemispheric region and it is in this 
 final concentration that consciousness is produced. 
 
 Meynert considers the whole nervous mechanism of 
 man as " three superordinated systems of projection." 
 The first or highest system of projection is the corona 
 radiata, comprising all those tracts which connect 
 the hemispheric ganglions, the thalamus, and the Four 
 Hills. As the second system of projection Meynert 
 
 
 
LOCALIZATION'. 191 
 
 MEYNERT'S REPRESENTATION OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 
 
 (After Meynert's investigations ; reproduced from Hermann's Physiology, 
 Vol. II, part II, p. 303,) 
 
 C. Cortex of hemispheres. 
 
 L, Lenticular body. 
 
 S. Tailed body (nucleus caudatus). 
 
 L. and S are the hemispheric ganglions, called Striped Body. 
 
 T. Thalamus. 
 
 V. Four Hills. 
 
 JR. Olfactory nerve (RiecJi-Kotteri). 
 
 A. Eye. 
 
 K. Small Brain or Cerebellum. 
 
 B. Brachium ad Cerebellum. (Bindearnt.) Tracts connecting the Small 
 Brain with the hemispheres. 
 
 hW. Posterior (sensory) roots of spinal cord, 
 
 vW. Anterior (motory) roots of spinal cord. 
 
 MM. Two sections of the Medulla in the spinal cord. 
 
 /. /. Voluntary motor tracts, passing into the lenticular L and tailed bod- 
 ies S, whence they issue downwards. They form part of the crus cerebri cross- 
 ing over to the other side in the inferior pyramidal decussation (. P.), and 
 descend to their respective anterior roots in the spinal cord. 
 
 2. 2. Involuntary motor tracts. They pass from the cortex into the Thala- 
 mus 7"and the Four Hills V, whence they issue downward to their anterior 
 roots forming part of the tegmentum. If there is any decussation in these in- 
 voluntary tracts, it can take place in the spinal cord only as indicated in the 
 dotted lines near /. 
 
 3. 3. Sensory tracts, crossing to the other side and forming the superior 
 pyramidal decussation, in oP. 
 
 4. 4. Optic tracts. 
 
 5. j. Olfactory tracts. 
 
 6. 6. Cerebellar tracts of B. 
 
 7. 7. Commissural fibres, connecting both hemispheres. 
 
 8. 8. Commissural fibres interconnecting the different provinces of one 
 hemisphere. 
 
1 92 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 describes the course of fibres from the great ganglions 
 (viz., thalamus, Four Hills, and corpus striatum) to 
 the central gray substance which forms the walls of 
 the aquaductus Sylvii and the bottom of the fourth 
 ventricle. 
 
 In the accompanying diagram representing Mey- 
 nert's view of the nervous system, the lines connecting 
 T (thalamus) with v W (anterior root of spinal cord) 
 are paths of reflex motions descending from the thala- 
 mus. Their presence is proved by the fact that after 
 the destruction of the voluntary motor tracts an in- 
 voluntary mobility is preserved which can be produced 
 through simple reflex- action so long as the thalamus 
 remains unimpaired. 
 
 The third system of projection are the fibres below 
 the central gray substance, namely the motor and sen- 
 sory nerves which connect this part of the nervous 
 system with the periphery. 
 
 The cerebellum forms a central organ of its own, 
 being in connection with the hemispheres, the pons, 
 and the medulla. 
 
 Every system of projection from the most periph- 
 eral to the most central, from the third to the first, is 
 a further concentration of feelings and of their corres- 
 ponding motor reflexes. The first system, which is the 
 highest and most centralized, is alone the seat of con- 
 sciousness. Accordingly no feeling, no sensation, nor 
 any motion, can become conscious unless it be pro- 
 jected into the hemispheric region. All sensory irrita- 
 tions which do not rise into, and all motory reflexes 
 which do not originate from this highest region re- 
 main unconscious. 
 
 We say that no nerve-activity except that which is 
 projected into, or takes place in, the hemispheres can 
 
LOCALIZATION. 193 
 
 become conscious ; but we do not say that all the 
 nervous activity of the hemispheres does become con- 
 scious. Many most complex actions, motions as well 
 as sensations, and even long chains of logical reason- 
 ing, which can have their seat in the cortical substance 
 only, are performed unconsciously. Accordingly, it 
 is but a small part of the cerebral activity that enters 
 into consciousness. Only the mountain peaks of cere- 
 bral nerve-activity, if they rise through a process of 
 further co-ordination above the great mass of sub- 
 conscious states, are illumined by a glow of concen- 
 trated feeling or consciousness. 
 
 Meynert's investigations have been modified of late 
 by Wernicke,* in so far as Wernicke demonstrates 
 that the Shell (putamen) of the lenticular body and 
 the nucleus caudatus do not receive fibres from the 
 corona radiata. They form no intermediate stations 
 between the hemispheres and the periphery. This 
 function has to be limited to the inner stripes of the 
 nucleus lentiformis (which are called the globus pal- 
 lidus). The Shell forms a terminus of its own quite 
 analogous to the cortical region. 
 
 We have some reasons to believe that the Striped 
 Body, in its terminal structures in the Shell and Cau- 
 date Body, performs a special and most important 
 function of cerebral activity. This, it appears, can 
 only be the function of consciousness. Whether our 
 hypothesis is justified or not, we must leave to those 
 who are competent to judge. We shall in the follow- 
 ing chapter explain the reasons that have suggested 
 the proposition of our theory, and shall be glad if 
 specialists will take the matter in hand and give their 
 opinion as to its tenability. 
 
 * Wernicke. Lehrbuck der Gehirnkrankheiten, Cassel, 1881. 
 
194 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE SEAT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 WHEN unable to go to sleep, we try to force our- 
 selves to do so by inhibiting all thoughts; we attempt, as 
 it were, to empty consciousness of all its contents. Yet 
 this is very difficult, for as soon as one thought has been 
 suppressed, another makes its appearance ; and if this 
 second thought is refused admittance a third one 
 succeeds in forcing its entrance. A constant battle 
 has to be waged to keep down all mental activity. 
 Thoughts, pictures or abstract concepts, and memo- 
 ries of all kinds rise again and again. We can never 
 attain a state of pure consciousness which is void of all 
 contents. When we succeed in suppressing all mental 
 activity, we fall asleep. Every attempt to think of 
 nothing, no less than every attempt to confine thought 
 for any length of time strictly to one monotonous im- 
 age or idea, is a kind of self-hypnotization. 
 
 When we walk along on a road which exhibits no 
 noteworthy variety to the traveler, we may proceed 
 without observing anything. We walk almost uncon- 
 scious of our movement. Yet, if the roa'd divides before 
 us, doubt arises in our mind as to which way we shall 
 take. Doubt is a problem that requires settlement, and 
 if it is not settled it causes, so long as the doubt lasts, a 
 state of tension which makes us conscious of the situ- 
 ation. Consciousness is an intensified state of feeling 
 caused through tension. It lies between a want and 
 its satisfaction. Satisfaction not being immediately 
 attainable, feelings are no longer in a state of equilib- 
 rium, and it is this tension which concentrates and in- 
 tensifies feeling into consciousness. 
 
LOCALIZATION. 195 
 
 It appears that consciousness never arises without 
 a certain tension. Days spent in an idyllic life flow 
 away almost unconsciously ; there is little friction, 
 there are no problems to be solved ; there are no unsat- 
 isfied wants, or if there are any, they are quickly and 
 easily attended to. There is no need of conscious- 
 ness, there is not much tension to call it into play, so 
 life passes dreamlike as a tale that is told. The more 
 life is burdened with problems that demand a man's 
 full care and deliberation, and the stronger are his at- 
 tempts to solve the problems of his situation, the more 
 intense will his consciousness be. 
 
 It appears to me very doubtful whether conscious 
 beings could exist in a world if such a world were 
 possible at all where the struggle for existence was 
 unknown ; for it is the struggle for existence that pre- 
 sents the first and most imperative problems to living 
 and feeling beings. 
 
 Man is a creature full of needs, and while attending 
 to these needs he has developed and constantly does 
 develop a not inconsiderable amount of consciousness. 
 If he had no needs he might degenerate into a half- 
 vegetative state of existence like that into which cer- 
 tain parasitic infusoria have fallen, which, their sole 
 wants being fulfilled, cease to exhibit even the most 
 general symptoms of animal life, i. e., free motion.* 
 
 We may compare the tension of consciousness 
 
 * " There is, for instance, the female of the bark louse (Coccus) which, 
 when fully developed appears as an entirely immovable body, not unlike a 
 shield, as though it were an excrescence on the leaves of the plants upon which 
 it sits. Its feet are degenerated. The proboscis of this creature is imbedded 
 into the tissues of the leaf, the sap of which it sucks. The whole psychical 
 activity of this parasite consists in the pleasure of sucking the sap and in 
 coition with the males, who move about. The same is true of the grublike 
 females of Strepsiptera, who, without wings and feet, pass their parasitic lives 
 immovable in the bodies of wasps." Translated from Hackel, "Anthropoge- 
 nic," p. 702. 
 
196 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 originating from an unsatisfied want, to a vacuum. 
 The vacuum of such a want in man's mind causes 
 memories and combinations of memories, old and new 
 ideas, to rush in in order to fill the vacuum. The more 
 difficult the satisfaction of a .want is, the more con- 
 sciousness and intelligence must be developed. For 
 long chains of representative feelings, observations of 
 present facts, the revival of memories and new combi- 
 nations of memories require much attention. Every 
 thought which has been attended to loses its interest, 
 and the mental equilibrium is restored, unless (as 
 happens usually) the settlement of one problem gives 
 rise to another, thus producing a new tension. If the 
 vacuum were once definitely filled, the tension would 
 cease to draw new thoughts into its sphere. All change 
 would be stopped and a state of unconsciousness super- 
 vene. 
 
 Consciousness and intelligence work together under 
 normal conditions, but both are quite distinct func- 
 tions. Consciousness is a concentrated or intensified 
 feeling which often, but not always, accompanies cer- 
 tain motions, sense-impressions, and also intellectual 
 work. We have no states of consciousness tha are 
 without any contents. There are, however, sense-im- 
 pressions, motions, and intellectual functions, which 
 are not accompanied with consciousness. Conscious- 
 ness, accordingly, is an additional element that some- 
 times is and sometimes is not attached to certain mental 
 operations. 
 
 Considering anatomical, physiological, and psy- 
 chological facts, it appears as the easiest explanation 
 to regard the Striped Body as the organ in which the 
 additional element of consciousness is produced. 
 
 The experiments of physiological psychology by 
 
LOCALIZATION. 197 
 
 Wundt, Miinsterberg,* and others, prove that the paths 
 of unconscious cerebration are shorter than those of 
 conscious cerebration. Mental activity, if its action, 
 like a simple reflex motion, takes place automatic- 
 ally, passes down through certain nerve-fibres, which 
 in their passage through the internal capsule do not 
 enter into the Striped Body.f It is certain that some 
 of these fibres enter the Thalamus, whence they de- 
 scend to the anterior roots of the Medulla oblongata. 
 Mental activity, however, which is accompanied with 
 consciousness, must take a roundabout way. It needs 
 more time, and we can fairly conclude that the mech- 
 anism of its action is more complicated. The ques- 
 tion thus offers itself, whether there is a special organ, 
 the function of which produces consciousness, and, if 
 we have to look for an organ of consciousness, where 
 must it be located? 
 
 We believe that in the Striped Body, (mainly those 
 parts that exhibit an analogous structure to the cortical 
 substance,) is to be found that place which in situ- 
 ation and anatomical conditions answers best to all the 
 requirements that can be made in regard to an organ 
 of consciousness. We suppose that a motor centre in 
 the brain, if irritated, all conditions being normal, 
 will produce motions (as has been experimentally 
 proved); but there are two possibilities offered : i) the 
 reflex 'action can descend directly through the internal 
 capsule without becoming conscious, (the path desig- 
 nated in Meynert's diagram as 2. 2.); or, 2) it may first 
 enter into the Striped Body, where the additional ele- 
 ment of consciousness is acquired. The different states 
 
 * See Miinsterberg. Beitrage zur Exprijnentellen Psychologic, Freiburg 
 Mohr. 
 
 t See Meynert's Diagram, 2, 2, in the preceding chapter. 
 
i 9 8 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 of consciousness will, in that case, originate in the 
 Striped Body. Yet their nature will depend upon the 
 various nerve-structures from which the irritation of 
 the Striped Body proceeds. 
 
 For a consideration of the merits of this hypothe- 
 sis we adduce the latest investigations of Wernicke, a 
 specialist in brain diseases. He says in his Lehrbuch 
 der Gehirn-Krankheiten: 
 
 " The caudate body and the third stripe of the lenticular body 
 consist mainly of the same finely granulated glia substance as the 
 cortex. As in the cortex, so here between the ganglionic cells are 
 found large masses of pure gray substance. The fibres rising 
 therefrom are, although medullary, of extremely fine tissue. It is 
 for this reason that the fibres of the caudate body in their passage 
 through the white substance of the internal capsule are marked as 
 reddish tracts, a circumstance that makes it easy to discover their 
 course. 
 
 ' ' The interior stripes of the lenticular body possess only 
 slight, if any, trace of these tissues. They consist, as Meynert 
 noticed, almost entirely of purely nervous elements, (1. c., p. 41). 
 
 "We must distinguish rigorously between the third stripe con- 
 taining the main mass and the other two interior stripes. The latter 
 alone can be considered, as Meynert suggests, as an intermediate 
 station. The third stripe and also the caudate body are in no direct 
 
 relation with the corona radiata Some fibres of the second 
 
 stripe can be traced into the corona radiata, but there are com- 
 paratively few. By far the greater part of the two interior stripes 
 has no relation to the corona, but remains an internodium of the 
 fibres descending from the third stripe and the caudate body. These 
 two ganglions are the main sources of the radiary fibres in the 
 
 lenticular body Thus they form a terminus ( Ursprungsge- 
 
 bict] of their own, analogous to the cortex for descending coronal 
 fibres ; and these coronal fibres rising in the caudate body and [in 
 the putamen of] the lenticular body find an intermediate station in 
 the two internal stripes of the lenticular body," (1. c., p. 40). 
 
 The Striped Body is, as Wernicke shows, in no 
 direct connection with the corona radiata. Yet the 
 corona radiata is not the sole path of communication 
 
LOG A LIZA TION. 
 
 199 
 
 possible between the Striped Body and the cortex. 
 There are other and more direct connections of a more 
 intimate nature than can be afforded by a system of 
 descending fibres. The Striped Bodyontogenetically 
 considered is continuous with the gray matter of the 
 hemispheres and the connections established in this 
 way are preserved also in the stages of a further dif- 
 ferentiation. 
 
 A clear conception of the Striped Body and its 
 relations to the corona radiata as well as the cortex, 
 can be more easily obtained by a study of the adjoined 
 diagrams. 
 
 SAGITTAL SECTION THROUGH THE BRAIN OF A DOG. (After Wemicke.) 
 
 The corona radiata descending into the internal capsule ('.), sends no fibres 
 
 into the third stripe. Some fibres appear to enter the third stripe ; but they 
 
 do not. Yet there are fibres that enter the first and especially the second 
 
 stripe. 
 
 aR. Outer olfactory convolution. 
 
 fi. Fornix, identical with Fimbria, to the edge of the hooked convolution. 
 
 nl. Lenticular body with three stripes. /. //. ///. 
 
 nc. Caudate body. th. Thalamus. ci. Internal capsule./] Foot of the 
 corona radiata.^. Pes cerebri. o. Optic nerve. sn. Substantia nigra. 
 l*qp. Upper fillet connecting the thalamus with Posterior Four Hills. cge. 
 Corpus geniculatum, exterior external ganglion of the optic nerve. 
 
2OO 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 FRONTAL SECTION OF THE BRAIN" OF A MONKEY. (After Wemicke.) 
 
 Showing the connection between the nucleus caudatus and the second stripe 
 , of nucleus lentiformis. 
 
 /. Insula. 
 
 cl. Claustrum. 
 
 ce. External capsule. 
 
 t. Corpus callosum. 
 
 nc. Head of caudate body. 
 
 nci. Tail of caudate body, continuous with the temporal process of the 
 lenticular body. 
 
 /, II, III. The three stripes of lenticular body. 
 
 o. Optic nerve. 
 
 ci. Internal capsule. 
 
 /. Pes cerebri. 
 
 sn. Substantia nigra. 
 
 INTERIOR OF THE HEMISPHERE- 
 VENTRICLE. 
 
 (After Wernicke.) 
 
 Showing the close connection of the 
 Striped Body w:th the Hemispheres. 
 The head and the tail of the Striped 
 body appear as continuations of the 
 cortex. 
 
 a. The primitive ventricle. 
 h. The definitive ventricle. 
 nc. Caudate body. 
 
LOCALIZATION. 
 
 201 
 
 DIAGRAMMATIC VIEW OF THE FRONTAL SECTION OF A BRAIN. 
 
 Showing the connections of the cortex with the Striped Body. 
 FS. FN. Connections with third stripe of lenticular body. 
 FK. Connection with caudate body. 
 
 (For further explanations of this cut see the chapter "The cortex and its 
 Relations.") 
 
 The connections between the Striped Body (especially the third stripe) 
 and Hemispheres seem to bear the character of commissural assooiations. 
 It is not a connection through coronal fibres, which would denote that the 
 Striped Body is to be considered as a mere internodium, an intermediate sta- 
 tion between the highest system of projection and lower stages. It is rather an 
 independent mechanism attached to the field of cerebral activity. Not only 
 the anatomical structure of certain parts of the Striped Body is similar to 
 cortical regions, but also its connections bear the character of the connections 
 between one cortical region and other cortical regions. 
 
202 7"HE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The Striped Body must be the organ of some brain 
 activity that in its kind forms the highest terminus in 
 a hierarchical system ; judging from its size and struc- 
 ture the Striped Body must perform an important 
 work of a very specialised kind. 
 
 DIAGRAMMATIC REPRESENTATION OF THE FIBRES IN THE CAUDATE AND THE 
 
 LENTICULAR BODIES. ( After Wernicke.) 
 
 /. II. III. The three stripes of the lenticular body nc. Caudate body. 
 ci. Internal capsule. /..Pes cerebri.^. Thalamus.z. Island. 
 
 The connections between the Striped Body and the 
 Hemispheres, it seems, bear more the character of 
 commissural associations, which interconnect the dif- 
 ferent provinces of the cortex. They are quite distinct 
 from the coronal fibres. If the nature of these con- 
 nections were similar to those established by the co- 
 rona, it would indicate that the Striped Body had to 
 be considered as a mere internodium or intermediate 
 station. Wernicke's investigations indicate that its 
 office must be higher ; they must rather be of a co- 
 operative than a subordinate nature. 
 
 Since certain tracts of voluntary motions originate 
 in the Striped Body (see Meynert's Diagram in the 
 
LOCALIZATION. 
 
 203 
 
 SAGITTAL SECTION THROUGH THE BRAIN OF A PIG. (After 
 
 (Natural Size.) 
 Showing the course of fibres in the internal capsule. The greatest mass is a 
 
 continuation of the corona radiata, originating in the cortex. Part of 
 
 these fibres enter the Thalamus, while the rest pass directly down into 
 
 the pes cerebri (/). A great number of fibres are plainly seen to orig- 
 inate in the Striped Body. 
 
 nl. Nucleus lentiformis Lenticular body. 
 
 //, ///. Two stripes of lenticular body. The first stripe does not plainly 
 appear. 
 
 p. Pes cerebri. 
 
 cr. Corona radiata. 
 
 cnc. Cauda nuclei caudati, tail of caudate body. 
 
 f, Fornix. 
 
 th. Thalamus. 
 
 qa. Anterior of the four hills. 
 
 cge. Corpus geniculatum, exterior external ganglion of optic nerve. 
 
 preceding chapter), while the memories of these mo- 
 tions must have their seats in the motor region round 
 the fissure Rolandi, (see Ferrier's Diagram in the 
 chapter " Motory and Sensory Centres") we assume 
 that the additional element which changes unconscious 
 motions into voluntary acts of conscious motions, is a 
 function taking place in the Striped Body. 
 
204 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 VIII. 
 CONSCIOUSNESS AND INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 The cortical activity is generally supposed to rep- 
 resent the terminus of Meynert's three systems of 
 projection ; and it is at the same time said to be the 
 place in which the activity of soul-life becomes con- 
 scious. Yet this great and wide area of gray matter 
 cannot properly constitute the central seat or organ of 
 consciousness; it represents rather the store-house of 
 old experiences ; it is the seat of intelligence. 
 
 Intelligence, physiologically expressed, is a great 
 wealth of well-associated, i. e. well-interconnected 
 and systematized, memory-structures. Consciousness 
 and intelligence are not identical. We know for cer- 
 tain that intelligence and consciousness are radically 
 different. Long chains of logical reasoning may take 
 place without any consciousness. We may also, and 
 often we do, unconsciously execute most complex 
 movements that are expressive of intelligence in so 
 far as they adapt themselves to special circumstances. 
 In jumping, if we have any practice, we measure 
 with our eyes correctly any given distance, and the 
 motions of our limbs will be exactly adapted to the oc- 
 casion ; and yet does this process of judgment only in 
 rare cases enter into consciousness. Word-memories 
 have unquestionably their seat in the cortex, and yet 
 there are many instances where fervid oratory flows 
 from the lips of a speaker with unconscious ease. 
 Similar acts of unconscious mental activity are per- 
 formed in all kinds of gymnastic exercises, by piano 
 player.s, and in innumerable other ways. While writ- 
 
LOG A LIZA TION. 205 
 
 ing an author spells correctly without being in the 
 least aware of it ; and indeed all conscious thought is 
 everywhere permeated by, interlaced with, and, as it 
 were, carried on the pinions of, the activity of uncon- 
 scious intelligence. 
 
 The function of consciousness consists in a certain 
 strong stimulation of the different ideas registered in the 
 hemispheres. The nervous battery which discharges 
 these irritations, causing thereby now in this now in 
 that part of the cortex an increase of blood circulation, 
 we have called the seat of consciousness. Accordingly 
 consciousness, physiologically considered, would be the 
 effect of this nervous battery upon those nervous 
 structures with which at the time it stands in connec- 
 tion. 
 
 The seat of consciousness must be situated in some 
 ganglionic organ of co-ordination. And we believe 
 this organ can be sought for only in the Striped Body, 
 perhaps in the shell of the nucleus lentiformis. The 
 Striped Body being a part of the hemispheric region 
 must, for ontogenetic and other reasons, stand in some 
 such relation to the hemispheres. The corpus stria- 
 turn develops in the same ratio as the hemispheres, 
 and if it is irritated by an electric current the result 
 appears to be the same as when the motor centres of 
 the cortex are all excited at once (Landois). De- 
 struction causes hemiplegia (paralysis on the opposite 
 half of the body), which often is accompanied with 
 hemianaesthesia. Further verification of this hypoth- 
 esis, that the organ of consciousness is to be sought 
 for in some part of the Striped Body, must be ex- 
 pected from pathological and experimental observa- 
 tions. 
 
 Consciousness, if extraordinarily intense and con- 
 
206 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 centrated, is called attention. Attention is nothing 
 but a concentration of feeling in order to prepare for 
 and execute an act of motion. Attention is not motion. It 
 is rather a temporary suppression of motion, but its 
 final end and purpose is always the execution of some 
 motion or a series of motions adapted to given condi- 
 tions.* Reading, studying, observing in order to un- 
 derstand something, are as much motions upon which 
 conscious mind-activity can be concentrated, as is the 
 catching of prey by animals. In a state of attention 
 all feeling is focused upon one aim, in order to pre- 
 pare in an act of deliberation a specially adapted mo- 
 tion. After due preparation this state of mind serves 
 as an irritant for the execution of the intended motion. 
 
 The unity of consciousness, accordingly, must be 
 conceived as the product of concentration. Many 
 feelings converge upon one point, aimed at by the ir- 
 ritant for action. The effect of their co-operation is an 
 attitude of which concentrated action or desire for 
 action directed upon one common aim is the charac- 
 teristic feature. Consciousness, therefore, is neither 
 a material nor mental essence, but it is a special 
 state of mind. The unity of consciousness is not 
 an original and innate quality which makes atten- 
 tion possible ; its unity is a unification. The unity of 
 consciousness is no intrinsic quality of mind ; it is im- 
 posed upon the mind by the object of attention, which 
 like a magnet attracts all its tendencies to motion, and 
 thus produces in them and among them a systematic 
 arrangement so that they all are subservient to one 
 plan of action. 
 
 The physiological mechanism of consciousness is 
 
 * See Th. Ribot's "Psychology of Attention." English translation pub- 
 lished by^The Open Court Publishing Company. 1890. 
 
LOCALIZATION. 207 
 
 an unsolved problem still. If our hypothesis, that the 
 Striped Bodies must be considered as the organ of 
 consciousness, should be confirmed and proved, the 
 question might be raised, Why can we not concentrate 
 our attention upon two different objects at the same 
 time? Why cannot one corpus striatum concentrate 
 the consciousness of one hemisphere upon one kind 
 of work, while the other concentrates that of the other 
 hemisphere upon some other subject ? 
 
 A satisfactory answer to this question cannot be 
 given until we know more of the construction and 
 mechanical action of the brain and especially of the 
 cortical ganglions. Until then we must be satisfied 
 with a preliminary answer. If consciousness is the 
 common direction of mind-activity, its unity need not 
 be constituted by, or rest upon, one unique organ. 
 Thus a carriage may be drawn by two horses, hitched 
 side by side and directed towards one common goal. 
 If consciousness or attention (i. e., the concentration 
 of consciousness) is not a unity but a unification, we 
 need not search for one single and unique organ of 
 consciousness, as did Descartes, who for this reason 
 assumed the seat of the soul to be the pineal gland. 
 Being simply a state of mind produced through a cer- 
 tain attitude of concentration, consciousness may have 
 its seat in two or even in several organs. It will ob- 
 tain so long as a common direction governs the single 
 parts of an organism ; and it need not depend upon 
 the uniqueness of its organs. 
 
 We can illustrate the state of attention by the phe- 
 nomenon of vision. If our attention is concentrated 
 upon one object which we see before us, we need not, 
 like the marksman, shut one eye ; but we may let the 
 axes of both eyes so converge that the object of our at- 
 
2o8 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 tention is placed at the centre of vision of both eyes. 
 The unity of vision and also of consciousness consists 
 in this convergence ; and although there are two pict- 
 ures, one on each retina, and two cortical images, one 
 in each hemisphere, the object is nevertheless per- 
 ceived as one only. . The concentration of mental ac- 
 tivity may take place in both Striped Bodies at the 
 same time. So long as it converges upon one ob- 
 ject, so long as it is concentrated upon one and the 
 same idea, it will be felt as a unitary state of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 It is more than probable that the mechanism which 
 produces this mental convergence of consciousness 
 works as automatically in normal brains, as does the 
 co-operative adjustment of the motions of our eyes. 
 And in spite of the wonderful result produced, it may 
 be, and I am firmly convinced that it is, not much 
 more complicated than the unification in the activity 
 of our two organs of vision. 
 
COMPARATIVE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE BRAIN. 
 
 THE question has often been discussed which part 
 of the brain contains the physiological conditions 
 which distinguish man from his lower fellow-beings. 
 The idea that these conditions reside in the forehead 
 is a most popular belief ; yet the great physiologist 
 Meynert concludes, that, all abstract reasoning being 
 impossible without language, the reasoning capacities 
 of man must have their central seat in the region of 
 speech which is situated round the fossa Sylvii, con- 
 sisting mainly of the insula, the operculuni, and the 
 first frontal convolution. 
 
 The frontal lobe, accordingly, -contains some func- 
 tions which are not at all the exclusive prerogative of 
 man. It is true that the human head alone is dis- 
 tinguished by a strongly marked frontal development. 
 Yet there are several reasons which make man's fore- 
 head rise so proudly. Among them the development 
 of the frontal convolutions is one, but by no means 
 the most prominent reason. The frontal lobe of man 
 is 42, of a monkey 35, of a bear 30, of a dog 32 per 
 cent, of the whole brain. The rise of the human fore- 
 head is chiefly conditioned by the strong develop- 
 ment of the insula and the whole region around the 
 fissure of Sylvius as well as of the lenticular body, 
 upon which the insula rests. The growth of these 
 parts raises the cortex which covers them and thus 
 
210 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 makes the forehead rise. In addition to these facts 
 we notice that the temporal lobe, like a thick wedge, 
 is pushed forward so as to lift the whole brain still 
 higher. 
 
 The region of the fissure of Sylvius appears very 
 low in a sheep, and the temporal lobe (In the diagram 
 of a sheep's brain S par.) lies behind it in a longi- 
 tudinal direction. Let us imagine that we could turn 
 the hindpart of the Sulcus parallelis in the brain of a 
 sheep downward and forward so as to approach the 
 olfactory bulb. By this process we should change the 
 brain of a sheep so as to resemble the brain of a dog 
 or a fox. In the brain of a monkey the end of the 
 temporal lobe (7>;/) is turned forward, so as to be 
 directly behind the fissure of Sylvius. In man it pro- 
 trudes so much that it lies below and a little in front 
 of the fissure of Sylvius. 
 
 The brains of carnivorous mammals, (for instance, 
 the brain of a fox,) show a very regular arrangement. 
 The fissure of Sylvius (R p) is surrounded by four 
 horseshoe-shaped convolutions. In man their ar- 
 rangement is much modified but still traceable. The 
 first horseshoe alone is fully preserved in its lower, 
 temporal course, ($"/') ; it still reaches (in arc I) 
 round the fissure of Sylvius, but the greatest part of 
 its upper or parietal portion has disappeared. The 
 second arch (arc II) corresponds to the Sulcus inter- 
 parietalis {Sip) and Sulcus occipitalis exterior (S. occ. e). 
 Its horseshoe form is still well preserved in the mon- 
 key's brain, while it is scarcely recognizable in man. 
 The frontal part of the next arch, situated between 
 the second and fourth horseshoe-shaped furrow, corre- 
 sponds to the posterior central convolution in the 
 monkey and in man, (limited in front by the Central 
 
COMPARATIVE PHYSIOLOGY. 211 
 
 Fissure (7.). Man possesses here another well discern- 
 ible central convolution (called the anterior central 
 convolution C. a). 
 
 There is scarcely any frontal lobe in the fox's 
 brain, except the convolution which surrounds the 
 anterior branch of the fissure of Sylvius {Ra). It 
 is crossed in its upper part by a horizontal fissure 
 (cm). These changes in the arrangement alter the 
 
 BRAIN OF A SHEEP. 
 
 ins. Insula. Above the insula is found the posterior branch of the fissure 
 of Sylvius. 
 
 S. i. occ. Sulcus interoccipitalis. 
 
 S. par. Sulcus Parallelis. 
 
 Fr. Forehead. Tm. Temporal lobe. 
 
 Off.; arc H, arc III; C; cm- have the same signification as the following 
 diagram, " Brain of a Fox." 
 
 BRAIN OF A FOX. 
 
 Olf. Olfactory bulb. arc. I. Arcus parietalis primus. arc.H. Arcus parie- 
 talis secundus, arc.IH. Arcus occipitalis. C. Sulcus Rolando. cm. Sulcus 
 Calloso-marginalis. A. Gyrus uncinatus (hooked convolution)./?/. Ramus 
 posterior fissurae Sylvii. 
 
212 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 direction of the fissure of Sylvius, which is almost 
 vertical in the sheep. In carnivorous mammals and 
 in the monkey it forms with the base of the brain an 
 angle of about 45 degrees while in man it is almost 
 parallel to the base of the brain. 
 
 This comparison shows that man's brain is distin- 
 guished by a special development of the frontal ; the 
 monkey's brain by a special development of the oc- 
 
 BRAIN OF MONKEY. {Cercocebus griseoviridis.) 
 
 Fr. Forehead. 
 
 Occ. Occiput. 
 
 Tin, Temporal lobe. 
 
 S. ~cr. Sulcus cruciatus. 
 
 Sir. (In the frontal lobe) first frontal fissure. 
 
 Sis. Incipient second frontal fissure. 
 
 The same letters are used in the temporal lobe for the first and second 
 temporal fissure. 
 
 p.C. Sulcus praecentralis, appearing in connection with the incipient 
 second sulcusfrontalis. 
 
 C. Sulcus centralis. 
 
 F. S. Fissura Sylvii. 
 
 Rp. Ramus ascendens of Fissura Sylvii. 
 
 arc. /. Anterior parietal arc. 
 
 arc. II. Posterior parietal arc. 
 
 lob. occ. Lobus occipitalis. 
 
 'rC. Sulcus interparietalis. 
 
 S. occ. e. Sulcus occipitalis exterior. 
 
 S.po. Sulcus prasoccipitalis. 
 
 Li, L2, Lj. First, second, and third temporal convolutions. 
 
 Cbl.^ Cerebellum. 
 
 Obi. Medulla oblongata. 
 
COMPARATIVE PHYSIOLOGY. 
 
 213 
 
 cipital ; and the fox's by a development of the parietal 
 
 lobes. 
 
 "Had these proportions no meaning," says Meynert, 
 
 "comparative anatomy would be a loss of time and 
 
 serious men should leave it alone." 
 
 One of the most important modifications in the 
 arrangement of the different parts remains still to be 
 noted. This is the change from the horizontal ar- 
 rangement where (as in the sheep) the cerebellum and 
 
 Off. 
 
 BRAIN OF MAN. 
 
 Fr. Tm. Occ.Scr. Sulc., F.S., Rp.,Sli, Sl2 ; in frontal lobe and Sir, 
 St2,in parietal lobe; Lr, L2, Lj, in parietal lobe pC ; C; arc. I, arc. II ; 
 S. occ. e; the same as in the preceding diagram, " Brain of Monkey." 
 
 C. trs. Gyrus transitorius. Transitory convolution surrounding R.ci 
 Ramus anterior, the anterior branch of Fissura Sylvii. 
 
 Ca. Cp. Anterior and posterior Central convolution, separated by C. 
 
 Sip. (In the preceding diagram rC.) Sulcus interparietalis. 
 
 Ps. (Qu.) Lobus parietalis superior, commonly called Quadratus. 
 
 S. occ. Sulcus occipitalis interior. 
 
 Occ. (Cu.) Gyrus occipitalis superior, commonly called Cuneus. 
 
 Occ. z. Gyrus occipitalis interior. 
 
 S. z. o. Sulcus interoccipitalis. 
 
 arc, oc'-. Arcus occipitalis. 
 
2I 4 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 BRAIN OF AN ELEPHANT. (After Leuret and Gratiolet.) 
 S.S. Fissure of Sylvius. S.S. S'S'. S"S". First, second, and third superior 
 convolutions. fA, II A, III A. First, second, and third anterior convolutions. 
 IP, II P, Ifl P. First, second, and third posterior convolutions. O. O. Sub- 
 orbital convolutions. The first superior convolution (5". 5.) corresponds to the 
 Fissure of Rolando in the brain of man and monkey. The second and 'third 
 superior convolutions interrupt the continuity between the corresponding an- 
 terior and posterior convolutions. M. Leuret says on the subject: " If we 
 suppress in our mind the superior convolutions up to the place where the 
 cross appears in the diagram, and if we imagine that the anterior convolu- 
 tions are continuous with the posterior convolutions, we have an arrangement 
 as it appears in the ruminants and solipeds." The same author says : " No 
 animal, not even the whale has a brain so large as the elephant. Even man 
 himself is inferior to this animal, not only with regard to the whole volume of 
 brain, but also with regard to the number, extent, and undulations of the 
 cerebral convolutions." 
 
COMPARATIVE PHYSIOLOGY. 215 
 
 Medulla Oblongata lie in one line with the elongated 
 brain, to the erect position which brings the medulla 
 directly underneath the hemispheres and places the 
 cerebellum below the occipital lobe. This mechanical 
 change of so momentous consequences, must evolu- 
 tionally have begun long before it could have been 
 acquired by exercise, since the incurvation of the pons 
 in the human embryo which thrusts both pons and 
 cerebellum forward, thus producing the conditions that 
 determine the further development of the brain in a 
 supra- and not in a juxta-position, takes place at a 
 very early period. 
 
 The importance of this change will be appreciated 
 when we consider that the rise of the head causes a 
 creature to rely more on its eyes and less on its nose. 
 The animal of scent becomes an animal of vision, ul- 
 timately liberating its anterior extremities for work. 
 The jaws recede and the different parts of the brain 
 are piled upon one another so as to shape the hemi- 
 spheres into a dome-like cupola. The senses also 
 cease to be arranged one behind the other. Eye, ear, 
 and nose form a triangle, the eye being situated at 
 the top. 
 
 The nose being removed from the gro-und naturally 
 turns downward toward the earth which for the animal 
 of scent has been the main source of information ; for 
 there is nothing to be scented in the air. 
 
 The conclusion of Meynert, whose authority we 
 have closely followed in this article, is that the human 
 organisation can be explained neither through exercise 
 of functions alone nor through natural selection, but, 
 according to Weismann's theory, through the develop- 
 ment of special virtual faculties of the germ. 
 
2l6 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 IV 
 
 F ' 
 
 DIAGRAMS SHOWING THE GROWTH OF THE HEMISPHERIC REGION IN PROPORTION 
 
 TO AN INCREASE OF INTELLIGENCE. (Reproduced from Landois.) 
 
 I. Brain of a dog dorsal view. 
 II. The same lateral view. 
 
 III. Brain of a rabbit. 
 
 IV. Brain of a pigeon. 
 V. Brain of a frog. 
 
 VI. Brain of a carp. 
 
 In III-VI. 
 
 o. Bulbus olfactorius. 
 I i. Cerebrum. 
 
 2. Lobus Opticus. 
 
 3. Cerebellum. 
 
 4. Medulla Oblongata. 
 
COMPARATIVE PHYSIOLOGY. 217 
 
 The diagrams I and II show the motor centres of the dog's brain. 
 I, II, III, IV, are the four horseshoe-convolutions. 
 S. Sulcus cruciatus. 
 F. Fossa Sylvii. 
 p. Optic nerve. 
 
 MOTORY CENTRES. (After Fritsch and Hitzig.) 
 
 1. Muscles of the neck. 
 
 2. Extensors and flexors of forepaw. 
 
 3. Flexors and rotators of forepaw. 
 
 4. Muscles of hind leg. (Luciani and Tamburini.) 
 
 5. Facial nerve. 
 
 6. Wagging the tail side ways. 
 
 7. Retraction and abduction of foreleg. (Ferrier.) 
 
 8. Lifting of the shoulder and extension of foreleg. (The motion of walk- 
 ing.) (Ferrier.) 
 
 9.9. Orbicular muscle of the eyebrows. (Ferrier.) 
 
 ZYGOMATICUS AND CLOSING THE LIDS. 
 
 a. Retraction and elevation of the corners of the mouth. 
 
 b. Centre for the mouth and tongue. It opens and closes the mouth, ex- 
 tending at the same time the tcngue. 
 
 cc. Retraction of the corners of the mouth. 
 c'. Lifting of the corners of the mouth. 
 
 d. Opening of the eye. 
 
 e. Opening of the eye and turning the head aside. 
 
 f. Centres of hearing.* (Ferrier.) 
 
 g. Centres of smell.* (Ferrier.) 
 
 t. Thermal Centre (in i after Landoit. and Eulenburg) shows increase of 
 temperature. 
 
 Landois says : "The degree of intelligence in the animal kingdom is ac- 
 cording to the size of the hemispheres of the Cerebrum in proportion to the 
 mass of the other parts of the central nervous system. If we take only into 
 consideration the brain, it shows that those animals possess the higher degree 
 of intelligence, in which the hemispheres of the cerebrum have the greater 
 preponderance over the mid-brain. The latter represents with the lower 
 vertebrata the optic lobes, with the higher the four hills. (Joh. Miiller). 
 
 "In the above diagram, figure VI represents the brain of the carp, figure 
 V that of the frog, and figure IV that of the pigeon. In all these figures the 
 hemispheres are numbered i, the optic lobes 2, the cerebellum 3, and the me- 
 dulla oblongata 4. 
 
 " In the carp the cerebral hemispheres are smaller than the thalami, with 
 the frog the latter are superior in size. With the pigeon the cerebrum extends 
 behind as far as the cerebellum. Analogous to these proportions is the de- 
 gree of intelligence of the above named animals. In the brain of the dog 
 (fig II) the hemispheres cover the four hills, but the cerebellum lies behind 
 
 * The centre for smell and hearing are situated in other regions according 
 
 to Munk. 
 
2i 8 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the cerebrum. In man the occipital lobe of the cerebrum overlaps the cere- 
 bellum. 
 
 " Meynert happily represented these proportions in another manner. From 
 the cerebral hemispheres fibres, as is known, pass downwards through the 
 Pedunculus cerebri, namely through the ventral part of the Pedunculus, 
 called the Pes. This is separated by the Substantia nigra from the dorsal 
 part of the same, called tegmentum, which stands in connection with the four 
 hills and the thalami. The greater the cerebral hemispheres, the more 
 numerous are the fibres running through the pes." 
 
 The tegmentum in the guinea pig is about ten times larger than the pes, 
 that of the dog and the monkey, five or six times. In man the pes is about 
 the same size as the tegmentum, which proves that the reflexes coming down 
 from the cerebrum are that much more numerous. 
 
 " Finally the degree of intelligence depends on the number of convolutions 
 in the hemispheres. While with the lower animals, as the fish, the frog, the 
 bird, the convolutions are wanting (Fig. IV, V, VI), we see in the rabbit two 
 shallow convolutions in each hemisphere (Fig. III.) The dog shows a richly 
 marked cerebrum. Remarkable is the wealth of convolution in the elephant, 
 the cleverest and noblest of animals. Even in the invertebrata, as in some in- 
 sects with high instincts, convolusions have been observed in the cerebrum. 
 Yet it must not be forgotten that even many stupid animals, as cattle, possess 
 richly convoluted hemispheres." (Cattle in the wild state, we may add, were 
 most likely in possession of a higher intelligence. This perhaps accounts 
 for their having inherited their convolutions.) 
 
 "This observation concerning convolutions holds good also of men of 
 high intelligence, but brains rich in convolutions are also found in stupid 
 persons. 
 
 " The absolute weight of the brain cannot be used for the estimation of the 
 degree of intelligence. The elephant has the absolutely heaviest, man has the 
 relatively heaviest brain." 
 
 There is a startling agreement between Professor 
 Weismann's biological views and Ludwig Noire's 
 theory concerning the origin of reason. Noire says 
 that language, i. e., the mechanism of thought has 
 produced reason ; man thinks because he speaks. And 
 according to Weismann's theory, Meynert 'says that 
 man became a sight-animal because the mechanism 
 of his brain arrangement forced him into an erect walk, 
 thus developing the higher senses of his organization, 
 
FECUNDATION AND THE PROBLEM OF SEX- 
 FORMATION. 
 
 HUMAN soul-life may be compared to an ellipse. 
 It is determined and regulated from two centres \ the 
 one of which is consciousness, the other the sexual in- 
 stinct. The sun of man's individual existence stands 
 in the former, the physical immortality of the race is 
 to be found in the latter, and it would be difficult to 
 decide which of the two is of greater importance. 
 
 It does not lie within the plan of this book to enter 
 into the difficult field of sexual problems, which owing 
 to the subconscious character of its phenomena, is in 
 most of its phases still a terra incognita. Yet we do 
 not intend to leave this great field entirely out of sight, 
 and shall in the following pages briefly indicate the 
 dominant physiological facts in the domain of propa- 
 gation. 
 
 Every organism has developed from a single primi- 
 tive cell. This primitive cell is called the ovum, or egg. 
 There are some organisms that consist so to speak of 
 an ovum only ; and these unicellular beings are, ac- 
 cording to Weismann, endowed with potential immor- 
 tality. When in the course of a further evolution organ- 
 isms grow more complicated, a division of labor takes 
 place, and we must distinguish in that case between 
 those cells that serve the function of reproduction, or 
 
220 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the sexual cells, and those that build up the body of 
 the individual, or the somatic cells. The potential im- 
 mortality with which life in its lowest phases is en- 
 dowed, continues in the sexual cells, and Naegeli has 
 therefore compared humanity to a creeping plant, 
 which at given intervals sends out buds and shoots. 
 The creeping plant is represented in the sexual cells ; 
 the shoots that grow therefrom are the individuals. 
 The shoots die off, but the creeping plant continues 
 to exist and to send out new shoots thus preserving 
 the life of the race. 
 
 The formation of new cells in plants has been 
 carefully studied by botanists, and is in its main 
 features well known. New cells may develop by a 
 simple division of the mother cell, or by a complex 
 division after a conjugation of two cells. The former 
 is agamic reproduction ; the latter, sexual reproduc- 
 tion. But whether the division of a cell does or does 
 not take place after sexual conjugation, the mother 
 cell must have previously gone through a process 
 which J. Sachs calls " cellular rejuvenescence." A 
 certain portion of the watery elements (cell-sap) is 
 expelled, and if the cell contains a nucleus, this nu- 
 cleus is dissolved in the protoplasm ; and thus the cell 
 returns into a youthful state, where its elements can 
 be recombined into new formations. Examples of this 
 process will be found in the development of the spores 
 of many kinds of Algae and in similar plants of the 
 lowest orders. The adjoined diagram represents Stigeo- 
 clonium insigne (A}, containing in its cylindrical cells 
 green colored protoplasm, which is called chloro- 
 phyll. The chlorophyll is arranged in stripes of 
 very definite outlines (A cl). The rejuvenescence 
 begins (in B) with a contraction of the cells. The 
 
FECUNDATION'. 
 
 221 
 
 protoplasm loses its definite form and gathers into a 
 solid ball from which the cell-sap is pressed out. (B y 
 a and #'.) The protoplasm is then rearranged and 
 the new formation protrudes through an aperture in 
 
 FORMATION OF CELLS IN STIGEOCLONIUM INSIGNE. 
 
 A. Several cells of the Alga. cl. green protoplasm (chlorophyll} embedded 
 in colorless protoplasm. 
 
 B. Showing the contraction of the protoplasm (a and a'). Some proto- 
 plasm protrudes through the cell wall (b and b'). 
 
 C. Free spores without the membrane. 
 
 D. Full-grown spore. 
 
 E. Encysted spore. 
 
 G. Two cells of a filament ready for segmentation. 
 H. Young Alga. 
 
 the cell (B, b and <5'.) Thus far this new formation 
 remains passive, its form is determined by outward 
 conditions. But as soon as it is released from its 
 mother cell, (as seen in C,) it roams about; its mo- 
 tions in this case being caused by inner conditions. 
 
222 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The young spore soon becomes encompassed in a 
 membrane (E) and for a few hours keeps growing, its 
 growth being mainly in length (D). Then it settles 
 into a condition of rest. Its further growth by a divi- 
 sion of cells is represented in H. 
 
 The simplest process of conjugation is found in 
 another alga, Spirogyra longata, which is very common 
 in stagnant water. Its filaments consist of rows of 
 
 I. H. 
 
 SPIROGYRA LONGATA. 
 
 I. Cells of two filaments in an early stage of conjugation, showing the spir- 
 ally coiled chlorophyll-bands, in the chlorophyll-granules of which lie rings of 
 starch-grains ; they contain also small drops of oil. This is the condition of 
 the chlorophyll after the action of strong sunlight ; the nuclei are also to be 
 seen in the cells, each surrounded by protoplasm, threads of which reach the 
 cell-wall in different places ; a and b are the protuberances in the different 
 stages. 
 
 II. A. Cells in the act of conjugation ; at a the protoplasm of one cell is 
 passing over in the other; at this has already taken place. 
 
 B. The young zygospores surrounded by a cell-wall ; the protoplasm 
 contains numerous drops of oil. 
 
FE CUNDA TION. 223 
 
 cylindrical cells, each of which contains a protoplasm- 
 sac. This sac encloses a relatively large quantity of 
 cell-sap, in the midst of which is suspended a nucleus 
 enveloped in a small mass of protoplasm and at- 
 tached to the sac by threads of the same substance. In 
 the sac lies a spirally coiled chlorophyll-band at inter- 
 vals showing, thicker portions (chlorophyll-granules) 
 which contain starch-grains. The conjugation always 
 takes place between opposite cells of two more or less 
 parallel filaments. The first stage is the formation of 
 lateral protuberances (/, a), which continue to grow 
 until they meet (/, ). The protoplasm of each of 
 the two cells in contact then contracts. The proto- 
 plasm of the one which contracts first will as a rule 
 pass over into the other.* The protoplasm of the 
 two cells thus being combined, rounds itself into an 
 ellipsoidal form, and contracts still more by expelling 
 the water of the cell-sap. This may occur simultane- 
 ously in the two conjugating cells. Next, the cell-wall 
 opens between the two protuberances, and one of the 
 two ellipsoidal protoplasm-masses forces itself into 
 the connecting channel thus formed, gliding slowly 
 through it into the other cell-cavity. As soon as it 
 touches the protoplasm-mass of the other cell, they 
 coalesce. (A a). After a complete union the united 
 body is again ellipsoidal and scarcely larger than either 
 protoplasm-ball from the union of which it was 
 formed. During the union a further contraction has 
 evidently taken place with a renewed expulsion of 
 water. The coalescence gives the impression of a 
 union of two drops of water, although the protoplasm 
 is never fluid in the physical sense of the word. The 
 conjugated protoplasm-mass covers itself with a cell- 
 
 * Strassburger. Ueber Befruchtung und Zelltheilung, 1878. 
 
224 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 wall and forms a zygospore, which germinates after a 
 repose of several months and then develops a new 
 filament of cells.* 
 
 Sometimes it happens that several cells combine. 
 Conjugations of three or more cells have been ob- 
 served in Myxomycetes and some Fungi. In the case 
 of Spirogyra longata both combining elements are ap- 
 parently equal. The higher we rise in the development 
 of plant life, the more unequal the two elements be- 
 come, and the more apparent is the distinction between 
 a male and a female germ the antherozoid and the 
 
 SEXUAL REPRODUCTION OF FUCUS VES1CULOSUS. 
 
 A. Branched hair-bearing antheridia. 
 
 B. Antherozoids. 
 
 /. An oogonium O^-with paraphyses/. 
 
 //. The exterior membrane a of the oogonium is split, the inner mem- 
 brane /protrudes containing the oospheres. 
 
 ///. An oosphere escaped, with antherozoids swarming round it. 
 
 V. First division of the oospore or fertilised oosphere. 
 
 II 7 . A young plant resulting from the growth of the oospore (after Thuret, 
 Ann. des Sci. Nat. 1854, Vol. ii). 
 
 * Compare Julius Sachs's, Textbook of Botany, English translation, pp. 9 
 
 and 
 
FECUNDATION. 225 
 
 oosphere. The former is also called a spermatozoon, 
 the latter an ovum ; terms which are applied in the 
 same sense to the animal world. 
 
 The lowest animal organisms, such as the amoeba, 
 propagate by division ; but here also an antecedent 
 rejuvenescence of the protoplasm has been observed. 
 The process of sexual propagation is here very similar 
 to that in higher plants, as exhibited in the diagram 
 of Fucus vesiculosus (///) 
 
 FECUNDATION OF EGG OF HOLOTHURIUM. 
 
 a. The egg. b. Spermatozoa. 
 
 In the internal generative organs of higher animals 
 one among the many cells of a Graafian follicle. de- 
 velops into a female germinal cell, called the germinal 
 vesicle. The germinal vesicle can easily be distin- 
 guished among the other cells by its unusual size. 
 It is surrounded by a greater number of cells which 
 form an elevation called the cell-hill. 
 
 The eggs of vertebrates (of fishes, reptiles, am- 
 phibia, and birds), which develop outside of the 
 mother organism, are wrapped in different kinds of 
 envelopes which afford a protection to them during the 
 
226 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 first stages of their growth. The germinative cell alone 
 is the ovum, or egg-cell proper. The mature egg of 
 birds consists of a yellow mass, called the yolk, which 
 is enveloped in the yolk-membrane and surrounded 
 by a whitish mass, called the white of the egg. Both 
 have a mere nutritive value. In one spot the white 
 
 I. GRAAFIAN FOLLICLE. 
 
 a. blastoderm (membrane of the follicle). b. Ovum (egg-cell). c. Seg- 
 mentation-cavity. d. Cell-hill. 
 
 II. CRLL-HILL. (Strongly magnified.) 
 The ovum (a) is embedded in transparent cells. 
 
 substance appears to sink deep down into the yellow 
 yolk. This part is popularly called treadle, because 
 it was formerly believed to be produced by the tread 
 of the cock. It contains the germinative disc, having 
 the shape of a lense or flattened globe, and this disc 
 is the egg-cell proper, having a yolk of its own, a ger- 
 minal vesicle and germinal spot. 
 
 Before impregnation can take place, the ovum must 
 be prepared for it by a process of rejuvenescence. In 
 some animals (especially in certain insects, but not in 
 higher mammals) parthenogenesis takes place; that 
 is, the ovum develops a new individual without the 
 assistance of the male sperma. The preparation for 
 impregnation has been best observed in the ova of 
 
FECUNDATION. 
 
 227 
 
 sea-urchins and star-fishes. The rejuvenescence sets 
 in without the interference of the male element. The 
 process, as described by Selenka, begins with lively 
 motions in the yolk of the ovum ; processes protrude 
 from the outer transparent layer of the yolk into the 
 gelatinous zone, forming very delicate rays. After 
 
 EGG OF A STAR-FISH. (Aster ias glacialis.} 
 
 1. Full grown egg. 
 
 2. The same. The nucleus in a state of dissolution and about to form 
 the polar spindle. 
 
 3. Segment of the egg, showing the polar spindle after having thrown out 
 the polar body. 
 
 4. The same, after having thrown out the second polar body. 
 
 some time the rays recede and leave minute pores 
 which may serve partly to effect increased respiration, 
 partly to facilitate the entrance of the spermatozoa. 
 
 The state of maturity being attained, most impor- 
 tant changes are observed in the germinal vesicle. 
 The germinal vesicle' of a mature egg exhibits all the 
 
228 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 essential qualities of a nucleus. (See the diagram of 
 the egg of the star-fish, Asterias glacialis, i.) The 
 protoplasm of this nucleus, which is wrapped in a mem- 
 brane, develops a system of cavities in the shape of 
 meshes, called vacuoles. The germinal spot rests in 
 the middle of this net-work, attached to the membrane 
 by many delicately intertwined threads ; and thus the 
 nucleolar plasma is reduced to a state much resem- 
 bling that of vegetable cells. 
 
 According to the observations of Fol and others, 
 the nucleolar membrane soon wrinkles, most likely in 
 consequence of some such process of contraction and 
 expulsion of watery elements out of the vacuoles as 
 has been distinctly observed in plant-cells. The con- 
 tours of the germinal vesicle grow paler and more ir- 
 regular ; soon the vesicle disappears and most of its 
 elements those of the germinal spot not excluded 
 are intermingled with the surrounding yolk. The place 
 at which the germinal vesicle has been dissolved, 
 however, remains visible as a transparent spot com- 
 posed of a finely granulated diaphanous substance, 
 irregular in shape and without definite delimitation. 
 This transparent spot forms the centre of a process 
 which eventually ends in the reconstruction, of a new 
 nucleus. The process begins with a movement of this 
 transparent spot towards the surface of the egg, form- 
 ing a spindle-shaped figure, the polar spindle (Rich- 
 tungsspindel} and excreting two little bodies called the 
 polar bodies (Richtungskorpef}. 
 
 The two poles of the spindle-shaped figure produce 
 a differentiation of the protoplasm ; they attract small 
 transparent masses, so that, for some time, the ap- 
 pearance of dumb-bells is presented. The two knobs 
 
FECUNDATION. 229 
 
 soon assume the shape of suns connected with the 
 long fibres of the spindle. 
 
 Auerbach, the first observer of this phenomenon, 
 called it the "caryolytic figure"; Fol calls it "the 
 double star," or " amphiaster. " In these double stars 
 the polar bodies are formed. When the double star 
 approaches the surface of the yolk, its membrane 
 protrudes forming a small elevation. And now out of 
 that pole of the spindle which is in contact with the 
 surface, one polar body is excreted under vigorous 
 contractions of the outer layers of the yolk. A second 
 polar body is formed at the same pole where the star 
 has disappeared and is expelled in the same way, leav- 
 ing one star only in the ovum at the other end of the 
 spindle. 
 
 The two most important views as to the meaning 
 of the polar cells are those (i) of Balfour and Van Bene- 
 den, and (2) of Weismann. The first-named authors 
 suppose that the egg, being a product of both sexes, 
 is primitively hermaphrodite. By the extrusion of the 
 polar bodies, the male portion of the egg is thrown 
 out, and the remainder thus becomes unisexual (fe- 
 male), and ready for the entrance of the spermato- 
 zoon. This process would thus be a contrivance for 
 the prevention of parthenogenesis. 
 
 Weismann distinguishes in every animal body two 
 kinds of cells, somatic and generative (or sexual} cells. 
 As all the cells arise as products of the segmentation 
 of the ovum, they are originally quite similar mor- 
 phologically, and each would thus consist of a "so- 
 matic" and of a "generative" portion. In order that 
 certain of them should give rise to definite generative 
 cells, it is necessary that the formative element, which 
 would give rise to the somatic portion, should be got 
 
230 . THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 rid of, and this is effected by the extrusion of the polar 
 bodies. 
 
 The first hypothesis presupposes that in partheno- 
 genesis no polar bodies are formed. Weismann has 
 lately, however, proved their existence in the partheno- 
 genetic summer eggs of Daphnidae, and this view is 
 consequently rendered improbable. In the develop- 
 ment of the male generative cells, a certain portion of 
 each primitive seminal cell also remains passive, not 
 giving rise to spermatozoa. 
 
 The significance of the polar bodies is apparent 
 from the role which the remaining part of the polar 
 spindle has to play. It is no indifferent material 
 that has been thrown out, but elements of the greatest 
 formative faculty ; for the remaining star constitutes 
 that part around which the new nucleus is to be 
 formed. The substance of the star gathers into two 
 light grains, around which other similar grains are 
 formed. They coalesce and thus form the new nu- 
 cleus of the ovum. The new nucleus slowly recedes 
 from the periphery toward the centre or near the 
 centre of the ovum, and when it settles into a state 
 of rest the ovum is ready for impregnation. 
 
 The process of rejuvenescence is in itself sufficient 
 to produce segmentation, and in many of the lower 
 animals parthenogenesis takes place. Parthenogene- 
 sis, however, is confined to the invertebrates. In all 
 the vertebrates, an admixture of the generative pro- 
 ducts of the male is an indispensable condition to the 
 development of the ovum. 
 
 As an example of the process of conjugation we 
 select Selenka's observation of the impregnation of the 
 egg of a sea-urchin {Taxopneustes variegatus}, which 
 he removed fresh from the mother organism and 
 
FECUND A TION. 
 
 231 
 
 placed in water, so that male germs could approach it. 
 A spermatozoon succeeds in forcing its entrance, as 
 a rule, at the very same place of the elevation which 
 originated through the expulsion ,of the polar bodies. 
 The tail of the spermatozoon remains outside. A star 
 is formed by the transparent mass of the protoplasm 
 
 FECUNDATION OF THE EGG OF A SEA-URCHIN. (ToXOpmUStes VariegCttUS.) 
 
 (Strongly magnified.) 
 
 1. Full grown egg after the removal of the polar bodies j. a spermatozoon 
 is approaching the protrusion formed by the expulsion of the polar bodies. 
 
 2. The spermatozoSn penetrates into the interior; a sun of transparent 
 protoplasm gathers around its head ; the whole cell is in a state of violent 
 perturbation. 
 
 3. The spermatozoon's head is dissolved into the substance of the cell; 
 the neck is enlarged forming the sperma nucleus. The sperma nucleus and 
 the nucleus of the ovum approach each other and will soon be united into 
 one. 
 
232 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
FECUNDATION. 233 
 
 which gathers round the head of the spermatozoon, 
 and at the same time a contraction of the yolk sets in. 
 The head of the spermatozoon and the nucleus are 
 attracted to each other. The pointed top of the 
 spermatozoon is dissolved and absorbed by the yolk. 
 The round neck increases in size and forms a second 
 nucleus, called sperma-nucleus in distinction from the 
 nucleus of the ovum. The nucleus of the ovum forms 
 a hollow cavity, shaped like a diminutive crater which 
 receives the sperma-nucleus. The sperma-nucleus 
 sends out several finger- shaped processes toward the 
 nucleus of the ovum, and amid a constant change of 
 form coalesces with it into one" nucleus, called the 
 segmentation- nucleus. The first segmentation-nucleus 
 divides into two equal parts, each of which forms a 
 new centre for the division of the ovum into two halves. 
 The process of segmentation continues until the mo- 
 rula stage is reached, whereupon the gastrula is 
 
 GASTRULA-FORMATION OF THE POND SNAIL (Lymnaeus) AND THE ARROW WORM 
 
 (Sagitta). 
 
 Gastrulation, which comprises the first five stages of germination of the 
 Metazoa, is represented in this plate in its simplest and most primitive form, 
 as the development o?.the archigastrula (Fig. 8 and /<?); all the remaining 
 stages of germination are to be regarded as secondary modifications of this 
 primary form. Figures i-ro show the gastrula-formation of a mollusk, the 
 common pond snail (Lymnceus} , after the researches of Carl Rabl ; Fig. 11-20 
 of a worm, the arrow worm (Sagittj,}, after the observations of Gegenbauer 
 and Hertwig. The letters have the same signification in all the figures. 
 
 a.. Progaster. /. Entoderm. c. Coeloma. 
 
 o. Prostoma. g. Gonocyta. p. Parietal membrane. 
 
 e. Ectoderm. k. Blastoderm. v. Visceral membrane. 
 
 b, Blastocoeloma. 
 
 Fig. rand//, primitive cell (Cytula) cr "fecundated egg-cell," (also 
 called "first stage of segmentation ".). J^ig. 2 and 12, bipartition of the Cy- 
 tula. Fig. 3 and 13, quadripartition of the same. Fig. 4 and 14, division of 
 the same into eight segmentations or bl istomeres. Fig. 3 and /j", mulberry- 
 germ (Morula). Fig. 6 and /6, bladder-germ (Blastula} hollow ball in sec- 
 tion. Fig. 7 and //, hooded-germ (Depula}, invagination of the blastula. 
 Fig. 8 and 18, cup-germ (Gastmla) in section. Fig. q and 19, Coelom-larva 
 (Coelom-ula) in section. Fig. 10 and 2Q, Larva with aperture and hindpart. 
 
234 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 formed which in its further development, will soon ex- 
 hibit the rough outlines of the animal that is to grow 
 
 from it. 
 
 * 
 
 * * 
 
 With regard to the formation of sex by the two 
 elements of fecundation it would seem as if the female 
 egg tended to produce male, and the male spermato- 
 zoon to produce female individuals. According to this 
 hypothesis a predominating influence on the part of 
 the egg would produce male offspring, and a pre- 
 dominating influence on the part of the spermatozoon 
 would produce female offspring. A man in that case 
 is not exclusively a male individual, he is potentially 
 a woman ; and, vice versa,, a woman is potentially a 
 man. If a man could have children without the co- 
 operation of woman, they would be female, and if a 
 woman could have children without any intercourse 
 with man, they would be males. A boy in that case 
 would be more the son of his mother than of his father, 
 and a girl more the daughter of her father than of her 
 mother. 
 
 The fact which 'most obviously suggested this 
 theory of a reciprocal production of the sexes is the 
 strange phenomenon that the queen-bee of a hive lays 
 eggs without impregnation. All these eggs develop 
 into drones. The queen lays eggs that produce fe- 
 male bees, queens or workers, only after fecunda- 
 tion. Thus it is apparent, at least in the sexual life 
 of the bee, that the male element alone can serve for 
 the reproduction of the female, while the female (even 
 without any male intercourse) contains all the condi- 
 tions to reproduce the male. 
 
 The embryo appears in the first stages of its de- 
 velopment as neutral ; it possesses a kind of sexual 
 
FECUNDATION. 235 
 
 indifference, so that it appears impossible to foretell 
 its eventual character. Yet this is no evidence that 
 later circumstances during pregnancy are alone de- 
 cisive. It may be that later circumstances will favor 
 the male or the female, (as is actually the case with 
 certain plants,) so as to effect the formation of sex in- 
 directly in the one or the other way. 
 
 Experiments have been made by Knight * with 
 melons and cucumbers ; and he produced male blos- 
 soms through warmth, light, and drought, and female 
 blossoms by means of shade, humidity, and manure. 
 Mauz succeeded by the same means in changing the 
 sex in dioecious specimens. 
 
 Ploss has proposed the theory that as a rule by 
 poor nutrition more boys are produced, and by opu- 
 lent food more girls. It is not impossible and almost 
 probable that hunger or at least a scarcity of food ex- 
 ercises a stimulating influence upon the sexual life, 
 and increases the vigor of the reproductive functions, 
 so that the female mother will bring forth male off- 
 spring. 
 
 Thury maintains, that the egg if fecundated at an 
 early period of its existence will produce females, and 
 if fecundated at a later period, it will produce males. 
 He proved his view by having cows fecundated in 
 the first days of rut. They gave birth only to cows, 
 while those fecundated in the latter days of their rut 
 gave birth to bulls. 
 
 Baust, in perfect agreement with Thury's theory, 
 states on the basis of private observations, which are 
 naturally very limited, that the conceptions effected 
 during the first three days after the menses produce 
 
 * This observation and the facts following ate reported in the Natur-wis- 
 senschaftliche IVochenschrift, III, 133. 
 
236 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 only girls, those effected after the eighth day only 
 boys, while those between vary. 
 
 It is not impossible that the young egg is compara- 
 tively weak and plastic, that it constantly keeps gain- 
 ing in strength, or rather in stability, so that there is 
 a chance for the spermatozoon to supplant more of its 
 elements in the beginning than later on. 
 
 - Hofacker has called attention to the relative ages 
 of the parents. The more a father is advanced in 
 years in comparison with the mother, the more the 
 number of boys predominates. If a father is younger 
 than the mother, the girls are more numerous. 
 
 Sadler has proved that this rule holds good upon 
 the average for the English peerage, and Kisch has 
 come to a similar conclusion on the basis of statistics 
 attainable in calenders and reports of royal and aris- 
 tocratic families. 
 
 Kisch's statement is summed up as follows : "If 
 the man is at least ten years older than the woman, 
 the latter being at the height of her reproductive vigor 
 (viz., at an age of 20-25 years) there are more boys 
 than girls. This proportion remains although not 
 quite so pronounced if the woman is older than twenty- 
 six years. However there are more girls than boys 
 even if the man is older, if he has not yet reached the 
 height of his reproductive vigor. The excess of girls 
 is most decided if the man and the woman are of the 
 same age. If the woman is older, there is a small 
 excess of boys." 
 
 Kisch's rule may hold good upon the average. 
 Nevertheless there are flagrant exceptions. The pres- 
 ent German Emperor, for instance, although equal in 
 years to the Empress, has five boys and no girls. 
 
 These facts again seem to prove that upon the 
 
FECUNDATION. 237 
 
 whole the greater strength of the female element fa- 
 vors the production of male children, and vice versa. 
 
 In spite of all the fluctuations that take place in the 
 relative numbers of the sexes in limited circles, the 
 average numbers in whole societies remain about 
 equal. This fact induced Diising to seek the origin of 
 the sex in the relations of the single individuals to the 
 whole community. He maintained that if male indi- 
 viduals predominate, female births will exceed male 
 births and vice versa. 
 
 Diising founded his theory upon the observations 
 of Mr. Fiquet, a Texas breeder at Houston. Piquet 
 says : " It is a common occurrence that happens daily 
 in the numerous herds which live in our American prai- 
 ries that a strongly used bull will produce steer calves, 
 while in the herds where many bulls are kept cow- 
 calves predominate," In thirty cases, on ground of 
 this observation,, Fiquet has succeeded in producing a 
 certain sex without fail. 
 
 The theory of Fiquet and Diising does not explain 
 the origin of sex, it sums up certain observations. But 
 if the theory is correct it finds its best explanation in 
 the hypothesis that the stronger of the two elements 
 in fecundation always reproduces, not its own, but the 
 other sex. 
 
THE NATURE OF SOUL-LIFE. 
 
 INTO psychological discussions, of late, have been 
 introduced the terms < double personality,' 'double 
 soul,' and 'double ego.' They serve for explanations 
 of certain problems, but give rise, in their turn, to 
 other problems ; and to many minds the difficulties 
 seem rather increased than diminished by the intro- 
 duction of these strange combinations of words that 
 tend rather to mystify than to clear our ideas. Indeed, 
 authors are not lacking who deal with psychological 
 topics as if there were a psychic fluid floating about 
 us, or as if beside the conscious, subconscious, and un- 
 conscious activity of the soul, there existed a super- 
 conscious sphere of psychical manifestation. On the 
 basis of these hypotheses of course everything becomes 
 possible, and the human body may easily be consid- 
 ered as the haunting-place of two or several ghosts. 
 
 We shall abstain here from controversial discus- 
 sions and limit our explanation to a statement of the 
 most important facts of soul-life. 
 
 In a certain sense each one of us every higher or- 
 ganized creature possesses a double soul. Organi- 
 zation produces a union of many organs, the interac- 
 tion of which constitutes the unity of the organism. 
 But the parts that constitute the organism are not at 
 all annihilated by their coalition. Every single cell 
 
THE NATURE OF SOUL- LIFE. 239 
 
 continues to exist as an individual in itself. All to- 
 gether form a community and the work of every cell 
 is divided between caring for its own growth and 
 health, and contributing to the common weal of the 
 whole organism. In return for its work, it is bene- 
 fited by advantages that it would not possess if it 
 lived a solitary life. 
 
 Thus in every organism there exist two spheres of 
 soul-life. The one consists of the activity of the con- 
 stituent parts ; the other is that produced by their co- 
 operation. We call the former the sphere of the periph- 
 eral, the latter that of the central soul-life ; and in this 
 sense adopt the term ' double soul.' 
 
 The peripheral soul is the separate psychical ac- 
 tivities of the constituents of an organism ; the central 
 soul is the product of their common activity. The 
 peripheral soul is the foundation upon which the cen- 
 tral soul stands, or rather it is the ground from which 
 it grows. The central soul did not come from fairy- 
 land, a stranger, to inhabit for a time the human body 
 in company with the peripheral soul. The central 
 soul was born in its present abode ; the body in which 
 it lives is its home, and the duality of soul-life, thus, 
 is not that of a composition, but that of a disintegra- 
 tion. It does not designate a descent of some unknown 
 power that comes from above ; it is the rising of aspi- 
 rations that are lifted from below to higher spheres. 
 
 Some time before the terms double ego and double 
 soul were employed by modern psychologists, Pro- 
 fessor Hseckel had spoken of the double soul of the 
 Siphonophore, a Medusa of the Mediterranean sea. 
 The Siphonophore, consisting of many single indi- 
 viduals and yet exhibiting unitary perception and will, 
 is popularly called a colonial sea-nettle. 
 
240 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 FIG. 3- 
 
 FIG. 4, 
 
THE NATURE OF SOUL-LIFE. 241 
 
 FIG. g. 
 
 FIG. 10. 
 
 FIGS. 7 AND 8. 
 
 A COLONIAL SEA-NETTLE OR SIPHONOPHORE CONSISTS OF: 
 
 A STEM (fig. i a). It is an elongated hollow polyp, closed at the lower end 
 and having an air-bladder (fig. i a' and fig. 2) at its upper end. 
 
 THE AIR-BLADDER (fig. 2) consists of an outer skin e, and an air-bag/", with a 
 villous appendix (f'z}. 
 
 LOCOMOTORS OR PROPELLORS. Fig. i z, (fig. j seen from below, fig. 8 from the 
 side.) Motion is caused when from the orifice (fig. 7 a) the water is ex- 
 pelled, fig. 7 and fig. 8 the web, c and d contracting fibres. 
 
 FEEDERS OR NUTRITIVE POLYPS (fig. in, fig. 3 a to f}. Connection with the 
 stem a ; skin of the feeder l> ; intestines c; liver glands d ; throat e \ mouth 
 f . The assimilated food flows through a into the cavity of the stem, 
 whence it is distributed through the different orifices (fig. 2 a, $a, 4 a, 5 a, 
 ga, zoa) to the other polyps. 
 
 PREHENSILE FILAMENTS (fig. i/, fig. 3 g to m, and fig. 4). Skin ; hollow in- 
 terior h ; arms / ; bell-shaped envelope of the arm k ; nettle-battery / ; net- 
 tle-filament ;. 
 
 SHIELD, OR PROTECTING POLYP (fig. i o, fig. 5 k) . It covers the feeders , and 
 the feelers h. 
 
 FEELERS OR SENTIENT POLYPS (fig. I t, and fig. 6). 
 
 MALE AND FEMALE POLYPS (fi. i g, fig. g and fig. 10). Their bells b, theii stom- 
 ach d, sperma c is formed in the walls of the polyp The stomach of the 
 female is filled with eggs. 
 
242 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Professor Haeckel says : 
 
 " The Siphonophores or colonial sea-nettles are found floating 
 on the smooth surface of the tropical seas, yet only at certain sea- 
 sons and not in great numbers. They belong to the most gorgeous 
 formations of nature's inexhaustible wealth, and whoever has been 
 fortunate enough to witness the sight of living siphonophores, will 
 never forget the glorious spectacle of their wonderful forms and 
 motions. These siphonophores are best compared to a floating 
 flower-bush, the leaves, blossoms, and fruits of which look like 
 polished crystal-glass of the most graceful forms and delicate colors. 
 
 " Each single appendage of the floating bush is a separate Me- 
 dusa, an individual in itself. But all the different Medusae of the 
 community through division of labor have assumed different spe- 
 cialized forms. One part of the Medusa-community controls simply 
 the natatory function (m), another the reception of food and 
 digestion (), a third sense-perception (/), a fourth defense and ag- 
 gression, a fifth the production of eggs, etc. All the different func- 
 tions which a single Medusa performs, are in the present case 
 thus distributed among the different citizens of the sea-nettle 
 colony ; and all the individuals have transformed their bodies to 
 accord with their respective duties. 
 
 "As in a community of ants, so in the Siphonophore-republic, 
 a number of differently formed animals have combined into a kind 
 of higher social organization. But, while in the republic of ants, 
 which is of a much higher order, the ideal bond of social interests 
 and that of a political sense of duty unites all the individuals as 
 free and independent citizens, in .the Siphonophore-republic the 
 members of the community are by bodily connection riveted like 
 slaves directly to the yoke of their communal unity. Still, even 
 in this close coherence each person is endowed with an individual 
 soul of its own. If severed from the common stem, it can move 
 about and live and have an independent being. The entire sea- 
 nettle, as a whole, also possesses a will of its own a central will, 
 on which the single individual depends. It possesses a common 
 sensation which at once communicates the perceptions of the single 
 individuals to all the others. Thus, each of the Medusa-citizens 
 might well exclaim with Faust : 
 
 ' Two souls, alas ! do dwell within my breast.' 
 
 w "The egoistic soul of the individual lives in compromise with 
 the social soul of the community. 
 
THE NATURE OF SOUL- LIFE. 243 
 
 " Woe to any Medusa, that in the infatuation of egotism would 
 break away from the communal stock, in order to lead an indepen- 
 dent life ! Unable to perform all the particular functions that are 
 indispensable to its self-preservation, most of which were per- 
 formed by its several fellow-citizens, it needs must soon perish, 
 if it be detached from its old companions. For one Medusa of the 
 Siphonophore can only float, another only feel, a third only feed, 
 a fourth only catch prey and repel enemies, etc. Only the har- 
 monious cooperation and the reciprocal support of all its members, 
 only the communal consciousness, only the central soul, linking all 
 together in bonds of faithful love, can impart a lasting stability to 
 the existence of both the individuals and their totality. In the 
 same manner also in human affairs, only the faithful fulfillment 
 of political and social duties by the citizens of a country ensures 
 the permanent existence of civilized states." 
 
 Man no less than the colonial sea-nettle possesses 
 a double soul. The peripheral soul of man consists 
 of the many different activities of such cells as do not 
 stand in a direct relation to the central soul-life of his 
 organism. And by central soul we understand that 
 part of our mind, which makes up the sphere of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 The spheres of the peripheral and the central soul 
 are not distinctly separated by a definite boundary. 
 The transition from the one to the other is almost im- 
 perceptible, and although there is an enormous amount 
 of peripheral soul-activity that is never illuminated by, 
 and apparently can never be accompanied with, con- 
 sciousness (let me only mention the nervous activity 
 of all the details of digestion, the work done by the 
 kidneys, the liver, etc.,), there is also a vast neutral 
 territory which is now conscious, now unconscious. 
 The main tracts of this neutral territory, which, accord- 
 ing to our wants, may not be or may be connected 
 with consciousness, might fairly be included in the 
 term central soul. 
 
244 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 There are innumerable nerve-ganglions in our body, 
 whose work is steadily performed without our being 
 conscious of it. Indeed, it is the smallest part of the 
 psychical processes going on within us, of which 
 we become conscious. This fact by no means proves 
 that unconscious activity proceeds without any feeling. 
 It proves only that the feeling of these peripheral 
 ganglions stands in no direct connection with the con- 
 scious life of our central soul. The feeling of periph- 
 eral ganglions must be of a lower kind, it is ex- 
 tremely vague and dim in comparison with that of 
 central soul-life, where, by a specialization, it has be- 
 come extraordinarily strong. Sometimes, however, 
 in abnormal conditions of things, caused by disease, 
 the feeling of the peripheral ganglions may be so in- 
 tensified that we do become conscious of it in the form 
 of pains and the various kinds of aches. 
 
 The peripheral and central soul-life continually 
 intertwine. The labors of conscious activity that 
 may have been performed with the intensest attention, 
 will sink down into the night of unconsciousness, and 
 vice versa, unconscious memories of the past, that 
 seem irredeemably lost to our recollection, continue to 
 live ; they sometimes combine with other, kindred or 
 antagonistic, ideas, and then their logical results only, 
 the product of their combination, unexpectedly and 
 suddenly flash up on the surface of our conscious be- 
 ing. And we /. <?., in this case, our central soul do 
 not know whence they come. They haunt us like 
 voices of spirits from a distant beyond. 
 
 Our conscious ego covers a very narrow space. 
 Only one or two and certainly no more than a few 
 ideas can at one and the same time be accompanied 
 with consciousness. How poor would we be, if our 
 
THE NATURE OF SOUL-LIFE. 
 
 2 45 
 
 mental existence were limited to that. Happily, we 
 can constantly derive new vigor and recreation from 
 the spheres of our unconscious soul-life. 
 
 Could we look into the interior of a human brain, 
 and did we understand all the many vibrations and 
 motions of the nerve-substance, we would undoubtedly 
 be struck with the quantity of unconscious work that 
 is being carried on there all the time. We should 
 observe how many millions of memories (every one of 
 them having a special structure of its own) are con- 
 stantly nourished by the oxygen-freighted corpuscles 
 of the blood which surround them in the delicate capil- 
 laries. 
 
 LOCALIZATION OF CERTAIN FUNCTIONS ACCORDING TO EXNER, 
 IN ORDER TO SHOW THEIR DISTRIBUTION. 
 
 The places where the different kinds of mem- 
 ories are located do not form, as has been supposed, 
 distinct provinces separated by definite boundaries. 
 
246 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 They are promiscuously distributed, yet there are cor- 
 ners where memories of the same kind are thickly 
 crowded. In the parietal circumvolutions of the cor- 
 tex, round about the fissure Rolando,* we see the move- 
 ments of our limbs in their most complicated combi- 
 nations. Below the fissure of Silvius are images of 
 sound. There are all the old nursery rhymes, college 
 songs, sonatas, and operas, that have delighted us. 
 Near by are the words of our mother tongue. They 
 live deep in the folds of the fissure Silvius, in the 
 third frontal circumvolution and are largely dispersed 
 over the sphenoidal lobe. All the verses of our child- 
 hood, of which we have not thought for years and 
 years, are there still preserved. The front corner of 
 the sphenoidal lobe is the seat of smell, f perfumes, and 
 odors disagreeable and pleasant. The hind part of 
 the cortex in the occipital lobej is full of images, it 
 glows with colored pictures of all kinds. There are 
 the dear old faces of our friends, there are landscapes 
 and all manner of instantaneous photographs of former 
 sights and experiences. In the three frontal circum- 
 volutions those, thoughts are throbbing that are of a 
 more abstract order. There are philosophical reflec- 
 tions and mathematical problems. Now and then one 
 or the other idea looms out like a memorial of a na- 
 tional victory more powerfully than the rest. They 
 are the memories of successful thoughts, of happy 
 solutions of difficult problems. What an astounding 
 throng of different structures, and all alive and con- 
 sisting of feeling nerve-substance ! 
 
 * Gyrus centralis, lobulus pr&centralis, and the regions about theflr&cu- 
 neus, according to Fritsch-Hitzig and Ferrier. 
 
 t Gyrus hypocampi, according to Munk ; gyrus uncinatus, according to 
 Ferrer. 
 
 $ According to Munk and Ferrier. 
 
THE NATURE OF SOUL- LIFE. 247 
 
 This is the physiological aspect of the brain. Psy- 
 chologically considered our mind is an immense em- 
 pire of innumerable spirits that here live together in 
 the narrow space of about a quarter of a cubic foot. 
 Spirits they are, because they are psychical existences, 
 they are framed by the memories of organized sub- 
 stance. Yet at the same time they are material re- 
 alities ; they are living forms of bodily presence, sus- 
 tained by the nourishing currents of the blood. 
 
 This vast spiritual empire in the human brain is 
 excellently provided for with highways and by-ways for 
 intercommunication. The communications are called 
 by physiologists commissural fibers, by psychologists 
 associations. If it so happens that in the state of un- 
 conscious activity a certain number of ideas associate, 
 and then if they have formed a new unity (the solution 
 of a problem, a discovery, an invention or a poem), 
 their life becomes more excited so that they make 
 themselves felt. They are ushered into our conscious- 
 ness like an inspiration from heaven. Is it to be 
 wondered at that the poet, the artist^ the prophet are 
 under the impression that they are instruments merely 
 in the hands of a Greater One than themselves? They 
 feel influenced by a foreign and a supernatural power, 
 over which they have no control. And this is true in 
 a certain sense. As the limbs and the whole body of 
 a child grow without the assistance of his conscious- 
 ness, or as plants germinate and blow and bring seed, 
 so the thoughts of a man in the shape of delicate brain- 
 structures which are the organs of his feeling and 
 thinking, grow and develop even in spite of him, even 
 if he should attempt to oppose their development. It is 
 not we who make our thoughts thirik, but our thoughts 
 are thinking, and their thinking is sometimes accom- 
 
248 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 parried' with consciousness. Therefore, we should say, 
 as Lichtenberg proposes, "it thinks," just as we say: 
 " it lightens," or "it rains." 
 
 Experimental psychology has furnished us with 
 many new data of abnormal soul-life through patho- 
 logical observations and hypnotic experiments. How 
 odd and incredible, indeed, at first sight, almost im- 
 possible, do these recent acquisitions of psychological 
 research appear. And yet they find their parallels in 
 well known and common facts of mental activity in 
 facts that every one can verify by his own experience. 
 If the facts are but clearly stated in their parallelism, 
 what a flood of light do they shed upon all the prob- 
 lems of abnormal soul-life ! 
 
CENTRAL AND PERIPHERAL SOUL-LIFE. 
 
 THE experiments of M. Alfred Binet* prove that 
 in the limbs and sense-organs of hysterical persons we 
 can provoke "various complex movements of adapta- 
 tion which are performed without consciousness. 
 There are certain details of vision that escape con- 
 sciousness, yet are perceived by the eye. Similarly 
 the anaesthetic hand, a hand that from a nervous dis- 
 ease is deprived of sensibility, jots down in automatic 
 writing impressions which it receives. The hand is 
 called anaesthetic because the patient knows nothing 
 about it ; it is not in connection with his conscious- 
 ness. M. Binet proves that feeling is not extinct in 
 it ; for it has a feeling of its own and its psychic acts 
 show a certain intelligence or adaptability. 
 
 The experiments of M. Binet are instances of 
 peripheral nerve-activity not entering into the sphere 
 of central soul-life. 
 
 Experiments of a similar kind were made by the 
 late Mr. Gurney, one of the founders of the Society 
 for Psychical Research of London. From an accountf 
 of his experiments on " Intelligent Automatism," re- 
 ported, in the main, in Mr. Gurney's own words, we 
 quote the following : 
 
 * Published in THE OPEN COURT : No. 100, " Proof of Double Conscious- 
 ness in Hysterical Individuals " ; No. 101, "The Relations Between the Two 
 Consciousnesses of Hysterical Individuals " ; No. 102, " The Hysterical Eye " ; 
 and No. 112, " Mechanism or Subconsciousness ? " 
 
 t Spectator, June 30, 1888. 
 
250 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 " Mr. G. A. Smith, the ' hypnotiser,' sent off one of the pa- 
 tients into a mesmeric sleep, and in this sleep the patient was told 
 that he was to write some particular word, or to count the number 
 of ^'s in a particular verse, or to do a particular multiplication 
 sum when he awoke Then he was wakened and at once en- 
 gaged in reading aloud, or counting backwards, or doing something 
 that engrossed his full attention ; but his right hand was placed on 
 the planchette (an instrument on wheels containing a pencil), the 
 paper and planchette being always concealed from the subject's 
 eyes, so that he could not know, unless he were able to guess from 
 the blind movements of the instrument under his hand (which 
 guessing was made very difficult by the occupation found for him), 
 what letters or figures (if any) the instrument was tracing. ' As 
 a rule, he was always offered a sovereign to say what the writing 
 was, but the reward was never gained.' On being sent back into 
 the mesmeric sleep, he recalled the whole process, though in the 
 waking state he could never tell what the movements of the 
 planchette under his hand were engaged in producing. Here is 
 Mr. Gurney's account of the results as regards the arithmetical 
 sums worked by what he calls the ' secondary intelligence ' : 
 
 " The sums given were simple, as most of the ' subjects ' were 
 inexpert at mental arithmetic. There were 131 sums in which 
 three figures had to be multiplied by a single one ; of these 52 were 
 quite right, 28 had three figures in the answer right, 18 had two 
 figures right, and 14 had one figure right only, whilst 12 were quite 
 wrong, and 7 were either so illegible and muddled as to be unde- 
 cipherable, or only a small stroke or curve was made at all 
 
 In some cases the sum itself was correctly written, but no attempt 
 
 was made to put the answer A few sums of other kinds 
 
 were also given : of 14 simple additions (of about the following dif- 
 ficulty : 4 -{- 7 + 9 -r ii + 13), six were done correctly, two were 
 quite wrong, and the remaining six were either not done at all, or 
 
 the answers were illegible scribbles Another case illustrates 
 
 the very distinct memory, on re-hypnotisation, of what had been 
 written. Wells was told to work out the sum, ' 13 loaves at 5d. 
 each,' and instantly woke as usual. He wrote, ' 13 loaf at 5d. is 
 53. 5d.' When hypnotized again, and asked to say what he had 
 written, he replied, ' 13 loaf oh, I've put loaf instead of loaves 
 at 5d. is 53. 5d. I've written the 13 twice see but I crossed it 
 out.' He then proceeded, by a long roundabout process, to work 
 the problem out, arriving at the correct answer again. 
 
CENTRAL AND PERIPHERAL SOUL. 251 
 
 ' ' Another form of experiment was to tell the ' subject ' to count 
 the number of times a certain letter occurred in a given verse. 
 Thus, Wells was told to write down the number of times the letter 
 e occurred in the verse " Mary had a little lamb, etc.," and then, 
 after saying-the verse once quickly through to show that he knew 
 it, he was instantly awakened and given Tit-Bits to read. Whilst 
 thus engaged he wrote, The letter E comes n times which is right. 
 The* same experiment was tried with Parsons, who also was kept 
 occupied by being set to read immediately upon waking ; but he 
 was not so accurate, and wrote down '12.' He was completely 
 successful, however, when told to write the number of e's in 
 
 ' God save our gracious Queen, 
 Long live our noble Queen, 
 God save the Queen,' 
 
 and wrote n, having read excellently the whole time." 
 
 Concerning Mr. Gurney's explanation of these 
 facts, the same account adds : 
 
 " His inference is that these trances induced by mesmerism, 
 or whatever we like to call the peculiar influence which special 
 persons seem to possess of rendering others unconscious, sepa- 
 rates the mind of the patient into two separate planes of conscious- 
 ness, each of which is capable of accomplishing such simple intel- 
 lectual tasks as the subject's education has fitted him to perform, 
 but nevertheless without the privity of the other, so that the man 
 is apparently subdivided into two men, one of whom is reading 
 aloud, and the other working a sum or counting the number of 
 <?'s in a stanza, though the man who is doing the sum has little 
 or no knowledge of what his alter ego is reading aloud ; while the 
 man who is reading aloud has no knowledge at all of the opera- 
 tions of the alter ego who is doing the sum." 
 
 According to our view these two souls are not two 
 different beings, but they are psychic activities per- 
 formed in two different spheres the spheres of cen- 
 tral and peripheral soul-life. If the activity of periph- 
 eral soul-life is not connected with that of the central 
 soul-life, the central soul can know nothing about the 
 processes that take place in the peripheral regions of 
 our mind. Accordingly we call them unconscious. If 
 
252 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the peripheral nerve-activity is indirectly, yet not too 
 distantly, connected with the central soul, we may 
 have a dim idea of its proceedings. Thus, we do not 
 know whether the nerves of our intestines are now 
 secreting particles of fat or albuminoids or any other 
 substance, yet we can know upon the whole whether 
 or not they are in a state of health. Such conditions 
 we call subconscious. 
 
 The experiments of Mr. Gurney as well as those of 
 M. Binet corroborate the fact that every nervous gang- 
 lion is a brain in miniature, as vice versa the whole 
 brain is but a centralization of many ganglions. All 
 nervous substance exhibits, in the performance of 
 the psychic functions of irritation and reflex motion 
 throughout, a marvelous adaptability to circumstances. 
 Thus, the decapitated frog, when his back is irritated 
 on the right side by a feather saturated in a solution 
 of hydrochloric acid, scratches the spot and removes 
 the irritant. 
 
 This might be called a simple reflex motion and 
 can perhaps be explained as purely mechanical. Form- 
 erly it was believed to take place without any con- 
 sciousness. But now it is known, that if the frog's 
 right leg be amputated and his back be again irritated, 
 after several unsuccessful trials to remove the irritant 
 by his right leg, he will use his left leg. 
 
 This is plainly a process of adaptation to circum- 
 stances. The central soul of the decapitated frog, as 
 can be proven by other experiments, has been removed ; 
 but parts of the peripheral soul still continue their 
 activity in the spinal cord so long as the nervous sub- 
 stance remains in a condition of comparative health. 
 And the activity of the peripheral nerve-substance 
 cannot be merelv mechanical as are the movements of 
 
CENTRAL AND PERIPHERAL SO UL. 253 
 
 a machine; judging from the experiment of the frog, 
 they must be psychical at the same time. The mech- 
 anism of nervous reflex- motions lives and feels. Even 
 the peripheral ganglions possess a kind of conscious- 
 ness of their own, dim though it may be. 
 
 There is no difference of kind between the periph- 
 eral and central soul, there is a difference of degree 
 only. And the difference that obtains is undoubtedly 
 produced by a division of labor. This will at the same 
 time explain the fact that the lower a nervous system is, 
 the more independent are its peripheral ganglia. The 
 central soul-life is less differentiated in a frog than in 
 man, and still less in a colonial sea-nettle. 
 
 The decapitated-frog experiment is in so far to the 
 same purpose as Mr. Gurney's and M. Binet's experi- 
 ments, for it proves the independent action of periph- 
 eral soul-life without any interference of, or connec- 
 tion with, central soul-life. 
 
 The phenomena of peripheral and central soul-life 
 are not a coordinated duality ; they form a hierarchical, 
 i. e., a super- ordinated system. The central soul rises 
 from the peripheral soul. The former being taken 
 away, the latter may continue to exist ; but we see no 
 possibility for the central soul to exist, if its foundation, 
 the peripheral soul, is withdrawn. We can remove 
 the spire of a church-steeple, and let the base stand, 
 but we can not remove the base and have the spire 
 remain in its place. Thus the central soul of con- 
 sciousness, being the combined product of a certain part 
 of the activity of the peripheral soul, can not lead an 
 absolute life of abstract existence. It subsists and can 
 subsist only upon condition of the peripheral activity 
 of the nervous system. 
 
 How closely the central and the peripheral activities 
 
254 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 are interwoven, can be learned from the facts of post- 
 hypnotic suggestions. Mr. Gurney's experiments were 
 purposely so arranged as to make the execution of a 
 post-hypnotic suggestion an act of automatic and un- 
 conscious intelligence. This, however, is a special 
 case only and indeed an exception. 
 
 Post-hypnotic suggestions, as a rule, rise from the 
 peripheral sphere of unconscious life into the region 
 of consciousness. There they appear as if created out 
 of nothing in no other manner than inspirations may 
 come to a poet. The central soul is in possession of 
 certain data ; but it can, out of itself merely, give no 
 account of their origin. A number of conscious ideas 
 are a living presence in the mind, and that is all that 
 from consciousness alone can be learned. Their factors 
 may be, and usually are, hidden in the depth of uncon- 
 sciousness. The result only of nervous activity be- 
 comes conscious, but not the details of its conditions. 
 Consciousness knows least of all about the nervous 
 fibers, the brain-cells, and their distribution. 
 
 The subjects who have received post-hypnotic sug- 
 gestions deal with them very differently. They either 
 execute them without heeding what they do, almost 
 unconsciously ; or, especially if the suggestions are 
 absurd, they try to suppress them. Some succeed in 
 doing so, some yield to their impulse after a vain 
 struggle. Some execute them, and if asked why they 
 act thus, they either invent a plausible motive or an- 
 swer that the idea just struck them to do it. 
 
 We quote an example from Forel's latest publica- 
 tion on Hypnotism : 
 
 " I said to a hypnotized patient : ' After awaking the idea will 
 occur to you to place a chair upon the table, and then to tap me 
 on the left shoulder with your right hand. ' I then ordered him to do 
 
CRN TRA L AND PRRIPHERA L SOUL. 255 
 
 several other things, adding : ' Count as far as six, and awake. 
 The patient counted and when he reached six, opened his eyes 
 drowsily, saw a chair and stared at it. Often there arises a con- 
 flict between reason and the powerful impulse of suggestion. Either 
 the former or the latter will gain the upper hand according as the 
 suggestion is natural or unnatural and as the hynotized subject is 
 suggestible. Our hypnotized subject after having stared at the 
 chair for awhile, suddenly rose, took the chair and placed it on the 
 table. I said : ' Why do you do this ? ' The reply always varies ac- 
 cording to the culture, temperament, and quality of the hypnotized 
 subject and of the hypnosis. One will say : ' I followed my im- 
 pulse.' Another : ' The idea occurred to me.' A third alleges an 
 a posteriori motive saying, the chair had been in his way, it had 
 bothered him. A fourth after the performance of the action, loses 
 every recollection and appears to awaken at that very moment. 
 Particularly in the last instance the subject has the staring glance 
 of a somnambulist , it is more or less rigid, his movements are au- 
 tomatic, and do not cease to be so until after the performance of 
 the act." 
 
 Another curious instance mentioned by Dr. Forel 
 is the following : 
 
 ' ' To a hypnotized woman I said on a Monday : ' Next Sunday 
 morning precisely at quarter past seven you will call on me. You 
 will see me in a sky-blue coat, with two long horns on my head, 
 and you will then ask me, when I was born.' Next Sunday I was 
 sitting in my study, and had forgotten the whole affair. My pa- 
 tient at thirty-five minutes past seven knocked at my door, entered, 
 and burst into laughter. I at once recollected my suggestion, which 
 now was actually realized, exactly in the manner it was given." 
 
 In the waking state the central soul plays a domi- 
 nant part. This is accomplished positively as well as 
 negatively ; positively by concentration and negatively 
 by inhibition. The consciousness of the central soul 
 can be and usually is concentrated upon one object, 
 viz., the object of attention. But all the many sen- 
 sory impressions that are received in all quarters of 
 the periphery would greatly detract from the clearness 
 of attention, if they were constantly permitted to enter 
 
256 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the sphere of the central soul and to interfere with its 
 activity. The central soul, if concentrated upon a sub- 
 ject of interest, sees fit not to heed other things, it 
 suppresses their observation. 
 
 For instance, I am writing now and do not notice 
 certain noises about me. I look up from my paper 
 to collect my thoughts, but I do not observe the scenes 
 outside of the window upon which I look. They are 
 indifferent to me, and if afterwards asked what I had 
 heard or what I had seen, most likely I should not be 
 able to tell. I heard the noises the word "I" here 
 signifies my ears; I heard certain words but I did not 
 listen the word " I " here signifies my consciousness. 
 I saw certain things, but I did not look ; so I can- 
 not tell what I heard or what I saw. My conscious- 
 ness on the one hand, and my eyes or ears on the 
 other, are two different things. 
 
 It may happen, however, that the sound of a word 
 that I did not heed lingers in my memory still. I re- 
 call the sound, and now ! perceive its meaning too. 
 A certain scene that I glanced at in an absent-minded 
 state, may have impressed itself strongly enough as 
 afterwards to come up in my recollection. Some per- 
 sons passed by ; my eye had seen them, but 1 had 
 taken no notice of them. Being asked whether a cer- 
 tain acquaintance of mine had been among them, I 
 might then positively know that he was. 
 
 If we could ask the eye, it would certainly always 
 be able to tell what it had seen. If we could look into 
 the memories registered in some of the sensory gang- 
 lions, we could know what scenes were photographed 
 by the eye ; for every scene upon which the eye looked 
 is registered in nerve-substance. We can, however, 
 not expect to recollect a sensation that was prohibited 
 
CENTRAL AND PERIPHERAL SOUL. 257 
 
 to enter, and thus never entered, our consciousness. 
 The following account from Max Dessoir,*is of special 
 interest. 
 
 " Several friends were at my house, and one of them, Mr. 
 
 W , sat apart reading, while we others were talking together. 
 
 Suddenly the conversation turned upon a name X , which 
 
 particularly interested Mr. W . He abruptly turned round, 
 
 and asked what had happened to Mr. X He declared, that 
 he knew nothing of our previous conversation ; and that he only 
 had heard the name mentioned. Then, with his consent, I hyp- 
 notized him, and in the state of deep hypnosis I asked him again, 
 and to our great astonishment he coherently related the whole 
 trend of the conversation that had taken place while he was 
 reading." 
 
 In another passage Dessoir says : 
 
 "The idea of the husband when his wife scolded him for 
 having mislaid the house-key at the inn, was after all not bad. 
 "Wait said he until I get drunk again, and I shall certainly 
 find out where I left it." 
 
 It is noteworthy, that in dreams as well as in states 
 of intoxication, certain people seem upon the whole to 
 reveal always a similar character which ? however, may 
 greatly differ from their normal condition. The con- 
 scious life of the central soul being extinguished, and 
 the inhibition that in the waking state is constantly ex- 
 ercised being abolished, the peripheral soul-life oozes 
 out in its originality, and however it may differ from 
 the waking state it shows again and again, under sim- 
 ilar circumstances, naturally similar traits of character. 
 There is accordingly a truth in the Latin proverb :" In 
 vino veritas" 
 
 The same may be said about dreams. Dreams re- 
 veal to us characteristic features of our peripheral soul- 
 life. 
 
 * Das Doppel-ich) p. 19. 
 
DOUBLE PERSONALITY. 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS, or the centralized and intensified 
 feeling of the central soul, does not remain equally the 
 same throughout our life. It is sometimes more, 
 sometimes less, intense. Its highest state of concen- 
 tration, when it is most intense, we call attention, and 
 a mental condition in which concentration is lacking, we 
 call a distracted or absent-minded state. The Ger- 
 mans in this sense speak of a person as being " dis- 
 persed," zerstreut, when his attention is not focused 
 upon one central idea, but is dimly distributed over a 
 larger field. 
 
 The object of attention is that idea in which and to 
 which at a given moment our entire psychical activity 
 converges. It may be called the centre of the central 
 soul. It is that part of our soul which, being the con- 
 tent of the present state of consciousness, represents 
 at the time our ego. 
 
 The object of attention can and usually does change 
 rapidly. Indeed a certain power of self-control is nec- 
 essary to fix attention upon one object for any length of 
 time. The importance of the power of attention can 
 scarcely be overrated, and M. Ribot quotes with ap- 
 proval Helvetius, who says : "All intellectual differ- 
 ences between one man and another spring only from 
 attention." 
 
DOUBLE PERSONALITY. 259 
 
 The central soul, the ego proper of man, his con- 
 scious personality, is not limited to the present state 
 of consciousness. It possesses the peculiar quality, 
 that the present state of consciousness is connected 
 with the most important memories of former states of 
 consciousness. In other words, central soul-life is a 
 continuous process, and its continuity is felt, it is con- 
 scious. The continuity of the central-soul is its history 
 in shape of living memories, that stand in connection 
 with its present. 
 
 The facts of our life are thus represented in our 
 mind in the shape of a series of memories, and it is 
 this series of memories that constitutes our person- 
 ality. 
 
 It is but natural that under normal conditions every 
 man should have a personality of his own. A man's 
 personality is the history of his life and the sum total 
 of his experiences. The memories of former expe- 
 riences influence our actions even now. They guide 
 us in our decisions and are constituent parts of our 
 present state of consciousness. 
 
 If a certain sensory impression is perceived, for 
 instance we read a certain sentence in a book, the 
 impression is recognized as something we had heard 
 or seen before. Most likely every word is familiar 
 to us, the combination of words in this sentence alone 
 is new. All the memories of these words are awak- 
 ened, not only the memories of the letters, the written 
 words, but also of the sounds ; then the memories of 
 the conceptions are revived, the thought-images of 
 which these words are symbols, and with them all those 
 mental activities that are therewith associated. Thus 
 the state of our present consciousness is in a constant 
 contact with the past, it grows upon and it adds to it. 
 
260 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The memories of old experiences and the reactions 
 upon certain conditions in former situations are the 
 foundation from which our wishes and desires, our 
 hopes and longings, rise ; they are the elements of 
 that which as one whole is called character in a word 
 they constitute our conscious personality. 
 
 * 
 * # 
 
 Consciousness does not act continually. The ac- 
 tivity of the central soul sinks at regular intervals be- 
 low the level of consciousness. It goes to sleep every 
 night, and the existence of the central soul, it thus ap- 
 pears, is for a short time periodically wiped out. 
 
 We know that sleep is by no means a state of in- 
 activity ; but while in a waking state the life of the 
 central soul is predominant, in sleep the peripheral 
 soul develops an unusual activity. It performs the 
 work of restoration. The peripheral organs clean the 
 brain of its waste materials and restore the loss of its 
 consumption, by building up those living nerve-struc- 
 tures that contain the energy which during the waking 
 state is drawn upon. 
 
 In the deepest sleep all consciousness disappears, 
 but in lighter slumbers part of the borderland between 
 peripheral and central soul-life remains active, and then 
 forms in the subumbra of dreams a new centre of its 
 own, which may be called the dream-ego. The dream- 
 ego need not be, and, indeed, as a rule, it is not con- 
 nected with the normal ego of the waking state, so 
 that usually we have a vague recollection only that 
 during sleep we were dreaming of something but can- 
 not tell what it was. 
 
 The ego of the dream possesses a chain of memories 
 of its own, which perhaps has never been connected 
 with the memory-chain of the conscious ego in the 
 
DOUBLE PERSONALITY. 261 
 
 waking state. In that case, if we do not know of what 
 we dreamed, we cannot properly speak of our having 
 forgotten the dream. We never knew it, for it was 
 never in connection with our consciousness. Yet 
 should we, on the day after the dream, happen to see 
 one of the objects that appeared in the visions of our 
 slumber, we might be enabled by this observation to 
 recollect the whole dream. 
 
 We can easily understand this fact, for the sight of 
 the object that we dreamed of brings the waking con- 
 sciousness into contact at one point with the memory 
 chain of the dream-ego. Thus an association is pro- 
 duced between both, and the whole chain of the dream- 
 memories or a great part of them can be hauled up, as 
 
 it were, to the surface of conscious recollection. 
 
 * 
 # * 
 
 There exist certain cerebral diseases, in which, 
 the continuity of the present state with past memories 
 is interrupted through an impairment of the brain. 
 In such cases a new chain of memories is usually 
 formed, and the unconnected states of consciousness 
 combine among themselves into a new ego, which 
 (not unlike the dream-ego) on its own part is not 
 connected with the original, normal ego. Certain im- 
 portant memories that constitute the normal person- 
 ality being wiped away, the new ego may in all its 
 main characteristics be vastly different from the normal 
 ego. When the normal ego reappears, it knows nothing 
 of the second ego. It will continue its existence from 
 the moment it had ceased, and takes as little notice of 
 the other ego as a man in the waking state bothers 
 about the dreams of the previous night, of which he 
 knows nothing. Both states, the normal and the ab- 
 normal ego, may alternately appear, just as the waking- 
 
262 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ego and the dream-ego may come and go. It is as if a 
 dream-ego of a sleep-walker had acquired a continuity 
 of its own. In such a case besides the normal person- 
 ality another personality is formed in one and the same 
 body. 
 
 Certain activities and habits, namely, those that 
 are usually performed unconsciously, remain common 
 to the normal and abnormal personality, but the two 
 egos constitute separate spheres. Physicians who 
 have observed and described such states, most forcibly 
 and correctly designate this phenomenon as cases 
 of "double personality," and we explain them as a 
 doubling of "the central soul within one common 
 peripheral soul." 
 
 Ribot quotes the following remarkable instance * 
 of a young American woman from the "Philosophy of 
 Sleep," by Macnish : 
 
 " Her memory was capacious and well stored with a copious 
 stock of ideas. Unexpectedly and without any forewarning, she 
 fell into a profound sleep, which continued several hours beyond 
 the ordinary term. On waking she was discovered to have lost 
 every trace of acquired knowledge. Her memory was tabula rasa; 
 all vestiges, both of words and things, were obliterated and gone. 
 It was found necessary for her to learn everything again. She 
 even acquired, by new efforts, the art of spelling, reading, writing 
 and calculating, and gradually became acquainted with the persons 
 and objects around, like a being for the first time brought into the 
 world. In these exercises she evinced considerable proficiency. 
 
 * We do not cite here the famous case of Dr. Azam's Felida X . The 
 
 statement of the case does not appear well denned and seems to be self-con- 
 tradictory in important points. It seems strange that, according to the account, 
 the patient's memory in the abnormal condition covered also that of the 
 normal, while the reverse did not take place. And yet Dr. Azarn states that a 
 radical change of character took place; while the patient appeared modest and 
 decent in the one, she was coquettish and frivolous in the other. Such a 
 change is not possible without the obliteration or at least impairment of cor- 
 tical brain structures which after all arememories, if not of actual experience 
 yet construction and education. 
 
DOUBLE PERSONALITY. 263 
 
 " After a few months another fit of somnolency came upon her. 
 On rousing from it, she found herself restored to the state she was 
 in before the first paroxysm ; but was wholly ignorant of every 
 event and occurrence that had befallen her afterward. She is as 
 unconscious of her double character as two distinct persons of 
 their respective natures. For example, in her old state she pos- 
 sesses all the original knowledge, in her new state only what she 
 
 acquired since In the old state she possesses fine powers 
 
 of penmanship, while in the new she writes a poor, awkward hand, 
 having had neither time nor means to become an expert." 
 
 In this manner there are formed two entirely differ- 
 ent and independent chains of recollections. When 
 the one appears, the other disappears. This dupli- 
 cation can be due only to a temporary interruption of 
 consciousness with its chain of memories, thus causing 
 the obliteration of the conscious personality. Periph- 
 eral soul-life continuing its activity, forms a new con- 
 centration and produces another central soul which in 
 the course of its development has to create its own 
 material. The patient thus appears to lead a double 
 life, by possessing two central souls, which are encom- 
 passed by one and the same peripheral soul. 
 
 How much the cases of double personality, rising 
 from the obliteration of normal personality, are similar 
 to the formation of a dream-ego, may be learned from 
 an instance quoted by M. Ribot in his "Diseases of Per- 
 sonality, " where a constant change of personality is 
 effected. He says : 
 
 "An insane woman of Charenton, possessing very remarkable 
 power and originality of mind, from day to day would change in 
 personality, in condition, in life, and even in sex. Now she would 
 be a young lady of blood royal, betrothed to an emperor ; anon a 
 plebeian woman and a democrat : to-day a wife and in the family- 
 way ; to-morrow still a maid. It would happen also that she would 
 think herself a man, and one day she imagined herself to be a 
 political prisoner of importance, and composed verses upon the 
 subject." 
 
264 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The cases of double personality are similar to the 
 cases of a double soul, in so far as both show two or 
 more distinct consciousnesses. Yet, while the case of 
 a double soul may exhibit the normal symptoms of the 
 peripheral and the central activities of the soul in their 
 isolation, a case of double personality shows an un- 
 usual and a continuous rise of a second central soul 
 with a new and distinct chain of memories rising 
 from the subconscious spheres of peripheral activity. 
 This being possible only if the normal central soul is 
 temporarily extinct, its appearance must be considered 
 as the symptom of a severe and most probably fatal 
 disease of the brain. 
 
 The phenomenon of double personality is a special 
 and an abnormal case of double soul-life, it is a case 
 in which by the weakness of central soul-life part of 
 the peripheral activities usurp the centre for a certain 
 period. It is like a change of party in the government 
 of the mind ; other elements representing new ideas 
 and principles with traditions of their own, assume the 
 executive power. The symptoms of independent per- 
 ipheral activities are like the individual exertions of 
 private citizens. A duplication of personality accord- 
 ingly can be effected only by ousting the original per- 
 sonality that is in possession of the central executive 
 powers in our body, represented in the motor regions 
 of the hemispheres and controling the muscles of our 
 limbs, especially the organ of speech. 
 
 The inference that can be drawn from the fact of 
 double personality seems to be, that the peripheral 
 soul-life of an organism has the intrinsic tendency to 
 build a central soul out of its own materials. Could we 
 amputate the central soul of a man, /'. <?., his conscious 
 personality, the subconscious and unconscious activities 
 
DOUBLE PERSONALITY. 265 
 
 of his nerves would again grow together or at least show 
 the tendency to grow together and become focused in 
 a new centre. Similarly a tree, the top of which is 
 cut down, will send forth new branches to replace the 
 
 loss. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 The result of our investigations confirms the pro- 
 position that all nervous activity is in a certain way 
 psychical. Even its so-called unconscious functions 
 are processes accompanied with a kind of feeling. Ac- 
 cordingly, they are (considered by themselves) to a 
 certain extent conscious. They can not properly be 
 called conscious, because by "conscious" we mean 
 the strongest and most concentrated kind of feeling, 
 and not mere irritability. Yet the irritability of or- 
 ganized substance is the germ from which conscious- 
 ness is developed. 
 
 If the work performed by the many different minor 
 ganglions of the peripheral parts is called unconscious, 
 this should only mean that the feeling remains isolated 
 in the peripheral sphere, and that it is not known to, 
 i. e. y it stands in no connection with, the larger cen- 
 tral ganglions. The activity of the central ganglions 
 and the activity of such parts as are at the time in con- 
 nection with them, are the constituent elements of our 
 consciousness. 
 
 The central consciousness being stronger than the 
 rest eclipses all the others. So the stars disappear be- 
 fore the rays of the sun, although they continue to re- 
 main in their places. If we speak of our ego, or of 
 our personality, we think first and almost exclusively 
 of that part of our mind which we have defined as our 
 central soul. 
 
 There is no doubt that the different parts of living 
 
266 2W SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 substance have by division of labor lost certain prop- 
 erties to such an extent that they scarcely retain the 
 rudimentary features thereof. Feeling is one feature 
 only of organized life. While the dim feeling of irri- 
 tability has been concentrated in a central conscious- 
 ness ; it is more than probable that in certain and per- 
 haps in most parts of the peripheral activity of the soul 
 it has simultaneously been reduced to a minimum. 
 
 In our great cities we have often occasion to ob- 
 serve in the evenings pictures of magic lanterns used 
 as advertisements in the streets or on public squares. 
 We may often be puzzled whence the picture comes ; 
 whether the lantern stands in front in a hidden place 
 on the opposite side of the street, or whether it stands 
 behind the picture. The effect only appears and all 
 the many rays of light which are intercepted by the 
 white screen, are imperceptible. No wonder that the 
 lantern in former centuries was considered as a magic 
 instrument. 
 
 The Psyche with its glowing, its brilliant, and ever 
 changing life similarly appears as a wonder that can- 
 not be accounted for. Not knowing whence it came, 
 we are almost driven to the conclusion, that here is 
 the inscrutable interference of an extra-natural power. 
 Nevertheless, patient inquiry will after all convince us, 
 that there is no exception to, no annihilation of, natural 
 law. The same natural powers are at work in our 
 soul as in the surrounding universe. 
 
 Our central soul appears to us like the white Alpine 
 summit when seen from afar. It can scarcely be dis- 
 tinguished from a roseate cirrus-cloud that hovers free 
 in the air. Nevertheless, the Alpine summit rests on 
 solid rock and stands firmly upon the ground from 
 which it has risen. We see only the snow-covered top 
 
DOUBLE PERSONALITY. 267 
 
 and are not aware of its granite base. Yet the base is 
 there, and though it appears dark to us, it consists, in 
 the main, of the same material as its top in its majestic 
 grandeur. 
 
 Certainly, nature manifests herself in our soul in a 
 peculiar and extraordinary way. Nature seems to be 
 concentrated here in all her glory and, if anywhere, 
 here she demonstrates that she is no chaotic agglome- 
 ration of dead matter, but a living power, everywhere 
 conforming to law. 
 
 Law is not imposed upon nature, but is immanent 
 in nature. It is, fundamentally, nothing but the fact 
 that nature is consistent ; nature remains faithful to her- 
 self. Thus being a law unto herself and being a living 
 power, she naturally makes life grow according to law 
 /. e., she organizes in living organisms. Living organ- 
 isms therefore can truly be said to be created in the 
 image of the living cosmos. They are microcosms 
 and can be looked upon as revelations of the macro- 
 cosm, of the immeasurable All. 
 
 This is the more true, the higher an organism is, 
 and most of all it is true of man. We cannot doubt 
 that there is a scientific truth in the words of Moses, 
 when he says : " So God created man in His own 
 image, in the image of God created He him." 
 
WHAT IS HYPNOriSM? 
 
 IN recent times a number of quite unexpected dis- 
 closures have been brought to light by the aid of hyp- 
 notism. The wonderful reports about hypnotic ex- 
 periments at first seemed so highly incredible, that, 
 perhaps justly, they were received with distrust. They 
 seemed to merit general disbelief. But, the experi- 
 ments were repeated and again and again proved suc- 
 cessful. At the present time we have at our disposal 
 an abundance of well-accredited facts. England, Ger- 
 many, Switzerland, Italy, and particularly France, 
 have been the theatre of eager researches. Nor has 
 America remained altogether unconcerned in the mat- 
 ter. In recent years the literature relating to this sub- 
 ject has reached fabulous proportions. 
 
 The more conversant we have become with hyp- 
 notic phenomena, which at first appeared quite ab- 
 normal, the more occasion have we had to convince 
 ourselves that, after all, they are not more wonderful 
 than other^ phenomena of life. The phenomena, at 
 all events, which after strict, critical investigation 
 and experimental treatment have been confirmed and 
 retained as facts, are easily arranged under the head 
 of biological and psychical laws, with which we are 
 familiar in our daily experience. 
 
 At the very threshold of the new science we are 
 embarrassed by the different answers which are given 
 
WHA T IS HYP NO TISM ? 269 
 
 to the question, " What is hypnotism ?" I have sought 
 in vain after a simple and precise definition among the 
 most prominent authors of the department. The psy- 
 chologists of France and Switzerland are divided into 
 two hostile camps, from both of which the ingenious 
 founder of scientific hypnotism, M. Charcot. seems to 
 keep equally aloof. 
 
 M. Charcot considers the hypnotic state as a psy- 
 chosis, i. e., a diseased state of the soul, and has be- 
 come more and more convinced (according to accounts 
 that have appeared in French and German journals) 
 that the therapeutic employment of hypnotism leads 
 to injurious results, or, to say the least, its efficacy is 
 very doubtful. 
 
 The two hostile schools, one at Nancy, the other at 
 Paris, unite in their opposition to Charcot's view, that 
 the hypnotic state is a psychosis. The Nancy school 
 is headed by Prof. Bernheim, the Parisian by Dr. Luys. 
 Prof. Bernheim looks upon hypnotism as throughout 
 psychical ; he resolves all its facts into products of 
 suggestion; while Dr. Luys believes to have produced 
 physiological and even extra-physiological changes in 
 his hypnotic subjects. Both schools devote their en- 
 tire powers to establish hypnotism as a panacea for in- 
 numerable ailments that visit humanity. Hence their 
 opposition to Charcot. 
 
 The question, "What is Hypnotism ? " is answered 
 by Bernheim as follows : 
 
 " The hypnotic state is a peculiar, psychical condition, which 
 can be provoked artificially, and which to a varying degree aug- 
 ments suggestibility ; i. e., it has the power of influencing any 
 single idea received by the brain in such a manner that under all 
 circumstances the subject strives to realize the same."* 
 
 * We quote this definition from a report of the Psychological Congress of 
 Paris in the " Internationale Klinische Rundschau" Vienna, August 25, 1889; 
 
270 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 He adds : 
 
 " All the different processes can be reduced to one ; viz., sug- 
 gestion There are hypnoses without sleep." 
 
 Dr. Forel is a follower of the school of Nancy. 
 He also declares that : 
 
 "The vague conception of hypnotism must ultimately be 
 recognized as the idea of suggestion." 
 
 But suggestibility can also be observed in persons 
 that are not hypnotic. Have the masses in France 
 been hypnotized perhaps by Boulanger, because by 
 augmenting their suggestibility, he has prompted them 
 to all kinds of whimsicalities ? Surely not. Sugges- 
 tibility is a general phenomenon of soul-life, which can 
 be observed everywhere, but which appears in a spe- 
 cial, and indeed in a morbid, condition in the hypnotic 
 state. 
 
 The idea of suggestion, it seems to me, is much 
 vaguer than that of hypnotism. If suggestion were 
 the core of hypnotism, if it were its characteristic 
 feature, every teacher who imparts knowledge, and 
 plants ideas in the minds of children, would be a hyp- 
 notizer. 
 
 Dr. Luys embraces in his definition all the details, 
 that he actually has, or believes he has, observed in 
 the hypnotic subject. Hence his definition is over- 
 loaded, and that which is essential is not carefully dis- 
 tinguished from that which is unessential. That which 
 is perfectly accredited is introduced together with 
 observations of doubtful character. Dr. Luys says : 
 
 " Hypnotism is an experimental extra-physiological state of the 
 nervous system. It is an artificial neurosis which is developed in 
 a predisposed subject, a pseudo-sleep which is imposed, and dur- 
 
 Dr. Bernheim's book on suggestions not containing a proper definition 
 although he maintains repeatedly that "hypnosis must be reduced to its real 
 foundation, which is suggestion." 
 
WHA T IS HYP NO TISM ? 271 
 
 ing which the subject that is experimented upon, loses the notion of 
 his own existence and the external world." 
 
 The last part of the definition applies to sleep no 
 less than to hypnotism ; and in the first part the ex- 
 pression "extra-physiological state of the nervous 
 system" appears to have the greatest weight. 
 
 This is not the place for subjecting the expression 
 "extra-physiological" to analysis and criticism. We 
 cannot adopt an expression that is of a negative kind. 
 Instead of elucidating it perplexes, and, in addition, 
 we cannot admit experiments exhibiting extra-physio- 
 logical states to that class of facts which have been 
 and can be verified by repetition. 
 
 Here is the difference between the Nancy school 
 and the Paris school. The Paris school maintains that 
 the phenomena of hypnotism depend upon physiolog- 
 ical changes ; they represent extra-physiological states : 
 effects are produced such as anaesthesia, hyperassthe- 
 sia, contractures, hemilateral or bilateral transfers, 
 rigidity by the use of magnets, or by the touch of 
 medicines contained in glass tubes. The Nancy school 
 denies all these propositions, and Dr. Bernheim de- 
 clares, that "all the pretended physical phenomena of 
 hypnosis are of a psychical nature. Catalepsy, trans- 
 fers, contractures are effects of suggestion only." 
 
 The simplest definition, which at the same time 
 completely covers the matter at issue, is the following : 
 Hypnosis is sleep produced at will from artificial 
 fatigue.' And hypnotism is the scientific treat- 
 ment and investigation of hypnotic states. 
 
 * 
 
 * * 
 
 In many respects we agree with both the Nancy 
 and the Paris school ; even where it seems that they 
 are irreconcilable. There are, no doubt, physiological 
 
272 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 changes taking place in the nervous system in natural 
 sleep as well as in artificial sleep ; but at the same 
 time we recognize that all nervous activity is psychical, 
 although it may not be in connection with the central 
 soul of consciousness. Yet the term " suggestion," in 
 one respect too wide, is in other respects too narrow, 
 too special. It does not cover the characteristic feat- 
 ures of soul-life in the state of dreams and of sleep. 
 Dr. Bernheim overlooks this difference. In the pref- 
 ace to the second edition, he goes so far as to identify 
 sleep and suggestion. He says : "Sleep itself [mean- 
 ing thereby natural sleep] is only the effect of sug- 
 gestion." 
 
 This is a palpable error. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 What then is sleep ? 
 
 9 Sleep is a reduction or total obliteration of con- 
 sciousness. Natural sleep regularly follows in normal 
 conditions upon fatigue. A person becomes tired after 
 having exhausted a certain part of the potential energy 
 stored up in his body, and especially his brain. Sleep, 
 accordingly, is the state of restoration of lost energy 
 during an apparent inactivity of our mind, accompanied 
 with the more or less marked disappearance of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 We can artificially produce sleep by alcoholic drinks 
 or by different kinds of drugs, such as morphine and 
 opium. This is called narcosis. The narcotic state, 
 especially if produced through alcoholic blood poison- 
 ing, seems to be the result of a fatigue, produced 
 through an abnormal combustion that takes place in 
 the brain after the introduction of such materials as 
 possess a strong affinity for oxygen. 
 
 The extinction of consciousness can also be ac- 
 
WHA T IS HYPNO TISM ? 273 
 
 complished through a disturbance of the conditions of 
 nervous activity. A deprivation of oxygen, or an in- 
 hibition of the blood circulation at once renders per- 
 sons unconscious. 
 
 Hypnosis is distinguished from normal sleep by 
 being provoked artificially and at the discretion of 
 the hypnotizer. Further it differs from narcosis so far 
 as the means employed are not of a material but of a 
 psychic nature. Thus, terror can hypnotize. As ex- 
 perience teaches, men and animals can be rendered 
 motionless through fright. Monotony likewise lulls 
 asleep those who allow themselves to be swayed by 
 its impression \ gentle swinging or rocking, the aspect 
 of uniform views, prairies, deserts, large corn-fields, 
 and continuous sounds, as the ceaseless murmuring 
 of waves, cause sleep in persons who yield to their 
 monotony. In the same manner unexpected, except- 
 ionally violent emotions (sudden, startling sounds, 
 glaring, dazzling light), or intense concentration upon 
 a single idea may also cause unconsciousness. 
 
 When one all-absorbing idea that happens to be of 
 a religious nature engrosses consciousness, the state 
 of mind is, by ascetics and penitents, called ecstasy. 
 
 The concentration of ecstasy upon a single idea is 
 akin to and yet, as a rule, vastly different from the 
 concentration of attention: as can be observed for in- 
 stance in a cfose student. The former is monotony 
 or uniformity in general, the latter "monotely,"* or 
 uniformity of aim. The former is an enforced inac- 
 tivity, the latter an exceedingly strained activity. The 
 worker in a state of attention considers systematically 
 one and the same object in all its different relations, 
 and does not tire in his absorption in the matter at 
 
 *From rf/lof, end, purpose, aim. 
 
274 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 hand ; the ecstatic penitent absolutely drops all rela- 
 tions and distinctions, he loses himself in a passive 
 contemplation or intuition enforcing through monoto- 
 ny absolute cessation of all activity, be it in thought 
 or in deed. But the consequence of both is in several 
 points similar. Both are forgetful of all other things 
 and both will in time succumb to fatigue. 
 
 Besides these means of producing sleep, the Nancy 
 school added that of suggestion. People are made to 
 believe that they will fall asleep, and lo ! they actually 
 do fall asleep. 
 
 There is much truth in Prof. Bernheim's theory of 
 suggestion, but we must beware of its one-sidedness. 
 The suggestion of sleep will undoubtedly often make 
 people sleep if it produces the feeling of fatigue. With- 
 out producing real fatigue, the effect of suggestion ap- 
 pears to me very doubtful. 
 
 The animal and the human soul are hierarchical 
 organizations of living substance. Innumerable or- 
 ganisms, performing physiological and psychical func- 
 tions, are coordinated and super-ordinated, so as to 
 form one system that finds its centralization in the 
 summit of the hierarchy which we call the central soul. 
 
 Living substance is, as we know, extremely un- 
 stable and the function of life consists of two processes 
 which are closely interwoven ; the one is building up 
 structures containing potential energy, the other breaks 
 them down and spends their energy. The former is. 
 the alimentary or trophic, the latter the vital, or the 
 active, process of organized life. Fatigue is expend- 
 iture of energy, involving a want of rest for restoration. 
 
 Sleep is the break-down of the top of our soul- or- 
 ganism ; it is a temporary abolition of the central soul. 
 The hypnotizer causes this break-down, either by the 
 
WHA T IS HYPNO TISM ? 275 
 
 shock of sudden fatigue, applied to the very centre of 
 consciousness or by leveling the central soul by cutting 
 away the summit of the psychic hierarchy through 
 monotony. He fills it with an idea or sensation so 
 vast, so vague, so broad, that there is no mark of dis- 
 tinction for a centre, there is no occasion for a rise 
 of the soul's activity in one spot. The hierarchy is 
 destroyed at its top, the central soul disappears and all 
 psychic life is dissolved in peripheral activities. 
 
 Hypnosis, that is, sleep induced through psychic 
 agencies, betrays symptoms similar to those of natural 
 sleep and of narcosis. 
 
 Charcot distinguishes three phases of hypnosis : 
 
 1. Somnambulism; 
 
 2. Catalepsy ; and 
 
 3. Lethargy. 
 
 All three phases of hypnotism display striking re- 
 semblances to corresponding states of sleep. Lethargy 
 corresponds to the deep, dreamless sleep, while som- 
 nambulism represents the light slumber of the dream, 
 in which the normal consciousness is obliterated and 
 makes room for the rise of a dream-consciousness. 
 Between both states catalepsy represents an inter- 
 mediate condition. 
 
 In the cataleptic state consciousness has become 
 extinct as in lethargy, but certain functions of the 
 nerves remain active. The limbs are pliant and plas- 
 tic like wax ; they easily assume any position and per- 
 sist in any motion imparted to them. 
 
 The acts of falling asleep and of awaking take place 
 in a regular succession of a series of transitional states, 
 which sometimes may be passed through swiftly, al- 
 
276 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 NORMAL 
 
 Attention 
 CONCENTRATION 
 
 ABNORMAL 
 
 Ecstasy 
 
 OF MIND 
 
 Suggestibility 
 
 SELF-CONSCIOUS- 
 NESS 
 
 Hallucinations 
 
 WAKING CON- 
 SCIOUSNESS 
 
 Somnambulic State. 
 PSYCHIC ACTIVITY * 
 Cataleptic State 
 
 NERVOUS RE- 
 ACTIONS t 
 
 Lethargic State 
 
 NERVOUS ACTIVITY^ 
 
 Hypolethargic 
 State 
 
 of Death 
 
 * Here insensibility overcomes the subject. "Psychic" is used in its 
 usual and narrower sense. Psychic denotes that which is feeling. The highest 
 kind of psychic activity is consciousness and self-consciousness ; the lowest 
 kind of feeling that we can reproduce in our recollection is the dim shadow 
 of a dream. Any feeling that we suppose to exist below this point can be 
 called " psychic " only if the word is used in its broader and original mean- 
 ing of " pertaining to the activity of the soul." The feelings manifested be- 
 neath this point, are better called irritability of organized substance. 
 
 t Here torpor sets in ; the greatest number of reflex motions cease to 
 respond to their proper stimuli ; only such as breathing and the beating of 
 the heart continue. 
 
 $ Here not only the beating of the heart and breath become low, but the 
 trophic activity of the nerves appears arrested. Hence danger of death. 
 
WHA T IS HYP NO TISM ? 277 
 
 most suddenly indeed, but which cannot be skipped by 
 leaps. 
 
 The state of consciousness is like the surface of the 
 quicksilver column in a barometer or thermometer. 
 May it ever so suddenly fall or rise, it has to pass 
 through all the intermediate degrees. 
 
 Fatigue causes the diminution of our power of con- 
 centration. We no longer prohibit the rise of ideas 
 that distract our mind and so we commence to dream 
 awake. Our muscles cease to obey and our head sinks 
 down, we commence napping. Light slumber with 
 dreams yields to deep and ever deeper sleep until all 
 consciousness vanishes. Our central soul has appar- 
 ently disappeared. But the nervous activity of the 
 peripheral spheres has not yet ceased entirely. Its 
 psychical manifestations become lower ; but the more 
 pronounced the sleeper's inactivity appears, the stronger 
 seems to grow the trophic or nutritive faculty in sleep. 
 There is no expenditure of energy and the time of rest 
 is employed in building up the broken-down nerve 
 structures, and in restoring the energy that was spent 
 during the state of activity. 
 
 Thus the natural result of sleep is the gradual disap- 
 pearance of fatigue. The more the loss of expended 
 energy is restored, the readier will a sleeper be to 
 awake. By and by some of his memories will be re- 
 vived ; he will dream again, and at last, when the 
 greatest part or all of the broken-down nerve-substance 
 is rebuilt, the faintest noise or a weak ray of light 
 will be liable to resuscitate him from his sleep into 
 full consciousness. 
 
 The activity of the soul having remained for a cer- 
 tain time below the zero of consciousness seems to be 
 pressed upward again through the restoration of its 
 
278 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 vitality from the basic periphery to the higher summit 
 of central soul-life. This applies to normal sleep as 
 well as to the hypnotic and even to narcotic states. 
 
 The parallelism between hypnotic and natural states 
 can be explained most easily and quickly by the an- 
 nexed diagram which is symbolically arranged as a 
 psychometer an indicator of the stages of soul-life. 
 The scale shows the order of the phases of psychical 
 activity as they rise from and above one another. 
 
LETHARGY, CATALEPSY, SOMNAMBULISM. 
 
 THE LETHARGIC and cataleptic states are of less in- 
 terest in a psychological treatise than somnambulism. 
 We shall only mention, that in lethargy, along with the 
 disappearance of sensibility, there can be produced 
 a peculiar muscular rigidity. The skin can be com- 
 pressed into a fold, and perforated by a pin, without 
 causing pain, and the subject may become stiff as a 
 board. The cataleptic state is characterized by a 
 plasticity combined with a certain rigidity. The sub- 
 ject is like a painter's manikin. He remains even in 
 the most awkward positions in which he is placed, and 
 continues mechanically to perform- motions imparted 
 to his limbs. 
 
 The difference between the cataleptic and the le- 
 thargic state is one of degree, not of kind. 
 
 The rigidity of the limbs seems to increase with the 
 loss of sensibility. In the lethargic state the mus- 
 cular contracture is more than double* that of the 
 normal state. Dr. Luys designates this as a transforma- 
 tion of nerve-forces t, as if the nerve-energy, which is 
 
 * Dr. Luys says : " In a series of experiments practiced upon this subject 
 (Esther), I found that one can produce a deflexion of the bent forearm in the 
 normal state with a weight of 10 to 12 Kilogrammes. In the state of lethargic 
 contracture, 20 to 25 Kilogrammes are necessary, and on this point the muscle 
 is not deflected, but the whole body is bent." 
 
 f " On est amene a constater qu'il y a la veritablement un phenomene de 
 transformation des forces nerveuses qui se manifeste dans des etats nouveaux. " 
 
280 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 distributed according to the economy of the organism, 
 as a rule, in an equal manner, were exclusively utilized 
 to contract the muscles. The explanation of Luys be- 
 comes probable, in consideration of the fact, witnessed 
 by other experimenters also, that, the deeper the sleep 
 the more nerve-force will be at disposal. Thus sen- 
 sibility may increase also. For instance, in the optic 
 nerves, anaesthesia or insensibility can in lethargy be 
 replaced by hyper-aesthesia, /'. <?. , an unusual and ex- 
 traordinary sensibility. Dr. Luys calls it une sorte tie 
 hyperesthesie compensatrice. 
 
 Persons, who are left to themselves in a lethargic 
 state, seem to awaken spontaneously, and complain of 
 an intense sensation of cold. Some subjects have slept 
 longer than twenty-four hours, and it may be as- 
 sumed that there is danger in the experiment. 
 
 The state of ultra-lethargy shows symptoms of the 
 most ominous kind. A total exhaustion prevails, res- 
 piration ceases, and the pulse becomes extremely low. 
 All nervous activity, even the nutritive functions of re- 
 generation, are more and more suspended. 
 
 The somnambulic state is by far the most interest- 
 ing, because it displays psychical peculiarities that 
 afford abundant parallels, not only to normal dreams 
 and sleep-walking, but also to the narcosis of intoxi- 
 cation, and to insanity. Accordingly, the theoretical 
 psychologist, not less than the practical philosopher, 
 the moralist, the educator and the physician of the 
 insane, will here find the clue to many obscure prob- 
 lems of soul-life, and at the same time valuable hints 
 that can be turned to use in their professions. 
 
THE REALITY OF DREAMS. 
 
 WE constantly observe the fact, that in dreams we 
 see, hear, smell, taste, and feel as if we had to deal 
 with substantial objects. Our visions are as real to 
 us in a dream as the things we perceive in the waking 
 state. 
 
 How does this happen? 
 
 Physiology teaches, that a sensory impression upon 
 the skin irritates the nerve. Let us suppose, that a 
 few rays of light have fallen through the cornea upon 
 the retina. The irritation is thence transferred to a 
 ganglion, and from the ganglion into the central gang- 
 lions of visual irritations, viz., the anterior lobes of 
 the Four Hills, or corpora quadragemina (C. (?.), and 
 in the optic thalamus (///).. Here, we suppose, is the 
 place where the irritation is felt as a visual image ; we 
 now call it a sensation. 
 
 Accordingly a sensation is the sensed effect of some 
 phenomenon upon a sentient being ; it is an image, a 
 sound, a touch, a smell, or a taste that has become 
 conscious. If a visual sensation is called an image, we 
 must bear in mind that it is not a passive or inactive 
 imprint, but it is the sum of all the movements and of 
 their memorial residua, made by the organ of sight 
 in order to map out the outline, the form, and other 
 qualities of an object. 
 
282 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 It would be incorrect to say that the elements of a 
 sensation are motions of the sensory nerves, for be- 
 sides the motions there is another element in sensation 
 which we call feeling. We call the whole process sen- 
 sation and by feeling we understand that passive ele- 
 ment which accompanies sensory movement, and which 
 is known by experience to every sentient creature. 
 
 EXPLANATION OF THE DIAGRAM. 
 
 Visual impressions received 
 on the retina travel along the op- 
 tic nerves through a ganglion to 
 the thalamus (th) as well as to 
 the anterior lobes of the Four 
 Hills (the corpora quadragcjni- 
 na) (C. Q.). The intermediate 
 ganglion is called " the external 
 corpus geniculatum." (It appears 
 in the adjoined diagram as the 
 internal. In reality the external 
 optic ganglions (corpora genicu- 
 lata exteriora) lie outside of and 
 almost directly above the inter- 
 nal. If they had been thus repre- 
 sented, the diagram could not 
 with any distinctness show the 
 connections of the nerves.) In 
 the anterior lobes of the Four 
 Hills or in the thalamus, perhaps 
 in both, sensations of sight must 
 be supposed to take place. De- 
 tails as to the latter point are 
 not yet known. That part of the thalamus, in which the fibres from the ex- 
 ternal optic ganglion immerge, is called "pulvinar." 
 
 The posterior lobes and the internal optic ganglions, which are connected 
 with them, act, according to Wundt, as motory agents of the organ of sight. 
 Gudden has pointed out that they have no connection with sensory functions. 
 According to Wernicke (Lehrbucli der Gehirn-Krankheiten I, p. 70, et seqq.), 
 the band of white fibres which connects the Four Hills as well as the pulvinar 
 of the thalamus with the cortical centre of vision must be considered as a 
 continuation of the optic nerves. It is the path for the transmission of visual 
 sensations to the cortical centre of vision, v. 
 
 x indicates the sensory, and.? the motory centre of speech. 
 
 Although a sensation may be fully accompanied with 
 consciousness, it is without value to us so long as it 
 remains an isolated sensation. We do not know and 
 
 DIAGRAM SHOWING THE MECHANISM OF 
 VISION. 
 
THE REALITY OF DREAMS. 283 
 
 cannot know what it means. It is without significance. 
 In order to give significance to a sensation, it must 
 become a perception. 
 
 Sensations are dispatched from the central ganglions 
 to special localities of the brain. The visual sensation 
 goes to the centre of vision in the cortex (?;). Here exist 
 a multitude of old visual memories, that have been re- 
 gistered there. The sensation that just arrived travels 
 on the path of least resistance to the place where the 
 cerebral cells through similar impressions are predis- 
 posed to receive it. The new sensation stimulates the 
 old memories of a similar kind. Its form fits into the 
 forms of certain old memories and thus it revives them, 
 it excites them into new life. When the sensation has 
 been received among the memories of former sensa- 
 tions, and when it is felt to be the same as a special 
 kind of these former sensations, we call it a perception. 
 
 The distinction which we make between sensation 
 and perception will be elucidated by an experiment 
 made by Prof. Munk. A dog whose centre of vision 
 was extirpated had lost all visual memories of the past. 
 He had not, however, lost the power of sight ; his vis- 
 ual sensations were apparently uninjured, but they are 
 new to him as though all his former experiences, 
 gained through sight, had been wiped out. 
 
 Prof. Munk says : 
 
 .... " After extirpating the cerebral cortex of a dog on both 
 sides at the place A' (Fig. p. 285) and when, on the third or fifth 
 day after the lesion, the inflammatory reaction is past, the hearing, 
 smell, taste, motion, sensation, etc., of the animal do not present 
 any abnormity whatever ; only in the domain of the visual sense 
 are we struck by a peculiar kind of perturbation. The dog will 
 move about freely and easily whether in the house or in the gar- 
 den, without ever running against an object, and if we heap up 
 obstacles in his path, he will regularly avoid them, or if they can- 
 
284 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 not be avoided, he skillfully overcomes them, by creeping through, 
 for example, beneath a foot-stool, by carefully leaping across the 
 foot of his master^or over the body of any animal obstructing his 
 way. But the sight of human beings, which formerly he used to 
 greet with joy, now leaves him indifferent, and likewise indifferent 
 the sight of the dogs with whom he was wont to play. The rest- 
 less and rapid movements he executes, are prompted by hunger 
 and thirst, and yet howsoever keenly the latter are felt, he no 
 longer as of old hunts about the corners of the room, where he 
 used to find his food, and if we place a plate of food and a dish of 
 water in the middle of his path, he again and again turns away 
 and takes no notice of them. Food, when held up before his eyes, 
 leaves him unmoved; so long he does not smell it. A finger or lighted 
 match, when brought near to his eyes, no longer causes him to blink. 
 The sight of the whip, which formerly would regularly send him 
 into a corner, does not frighten him in the least. He had been 
 trained to give his paw, whenever a hand was moved past one of 
 his eyes ; but now one may move one's hand in whatever way one 
 will, but the paw does not stir until we call aloud " Paw ! " And 
 there are many more observations of the same kind. 
 
 There can be no doubt as regards their meaning. By the 
 extirpation of a part of the brain, the dog has become ' ' soul-blind, " 
 seelenblind ; that is, he has lost the old visual representations he 
 possessed, the memory-images of his former visual perceptions, so 
 that he no longer knows or recognizes what he sees. Yet the dog 
 sees, the visual perceptions reach his consciousness, attain the state 
 of sensation, and cause the rise of representations concerning the 
 existence, form, and position of external objects, so that there are 
 acquired anew other visual representations and still other memory- 
 images of the visual perceptions. 
 
 One might maintain, that, as regards his visual sense, our act of 
 intrusion has transported the dog back to the condition of earliest 
 youth, to the condition of a puppy, whose eyes have just been 
 opened. As the puppy must learn to see, that is learn to know 
 what he sees, so also our dog again must learn to see, except that 
 its ripe capacity of motion, the advanced development of the 
 other senses, etc., may shorten the time of his apprenticeship. And 
 an apprentice he appears in fact. Our restless, goggle-eyed dog, with 
 neck stretched forward, and moving incessantly to and fro, when 
 the fever is past, will stare at every object around him cautiously 
 testing and prying into every nook ; and thus he acts both in lying 
 
THE REALITY OF DREAMS. 
 
 285 
 
 BRAIN OF A DOG, ACCORDING TO MUNK. 
 
 A, Centre of vision. 
 
 B, Centre of hearing. 
 C-f, Sensory Regions. 
 
 C, Hind legs. 
 
 D, Fore legs. 
 
 E, Head. 
 G, Ears. 
 
 F, Eye. 
 //, Neck. 
 /, Trunk. 
 
 BRAIN OF A MONKEY, ACCORDING TO MUNK. 
 
 Description as in the preceding cut. 
 
286 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 down and in moving, the latter of which he seems to prefer. 
 And first of all he will have set himself right concerning the things 
 that are most important to his existence. We need to duck his 
 head only once or twice into the pail till his nose touches the 
 water, and thereafter, when thirsty, he will always find the pail 
 of his own accord. The same is true of the plate from which 
 he feeds. And thereafter by slow degrees he learns to know human 
 beings and surrounding objects, first large, later smaller objects. 
 The more he has learned anew to see, the less his unrest becomes, 
 and the more moderate his curiosity. Things, concerning which 
 he does not anew gather fresh experiences, remain unknown to 
 him : He remains startled by the sight of a staircase when he is 
 confronted for the first time by such an object, after the lapse of 
 weeks just as after the lapse of a few days. He will shun the whip 
 after a few days' acquaintance, or only after weeks, all according 
 as sooner or later he has felt its effects upon his back. If nothing 
 that is subject to experimental test has been withheld from his 
 knowledge, our dog in some three or five weeks after the operation 
 mentioned will have been restored in the region of the visual 
 senses, and can no longer be distinguished from other healthy ani- 
 mals of his species." 
 
 The registration of many perceptions of the same 
 or a similar kind cannot be better explained than by 
 a comparison to composite photographs, although the 
 simile must not be regarded as a sameness. One mem- 
 ory is laid upon the other as one photograph covers 
 the other, on one and the same sensitive plate. The 
 common features in all pictures appear stronger, while 
 the particular and individual traits either disappear 
 from weakness, or being contradictory to one another 
 become blurred and are lost sight of. 
 
 This is the origin of generalizations that takes place 
 in animal brains. All perceptions grow together into 
 one general idea and if we speak not of a single, but 
 of a whole, class of perceptions of the same kind, we 
 call it a conception. 
 
 Conceptions attain their compactness and unity by 
 
THE REALITY OF DREAMS. 
 
 287 
 
 being named. The whole group of many perceptions 
 is united into one idea by being comprehended under 
 a common word symbol. Thus language becomes the 
 mechanism of abstract thought and the speaking 
 animal will be a rational being. 
 
 DIAGRAM SHOWING THE CORTICAL MECHANISM OF SPEECH ACCORDING 
 TO WERNICKE. 
 
 x, Sensory centre of speech ; ax, Line of acoustic transmissions ; 
 
 y, Motory centre of speech; y m, Line of motor impulses to the 
 
 fs, F.'ssure of Sylvius ; muscles of speech. 
 
 We add that x is associated with other centres- of the cortex, for instance 
 with v, the centre of vision. With the sound of the word dog, all the visual 
 memories of dogs which we have seen are awakened. 
 
 Physiology has taught us that our perceptions do 
 not take place in our sense-organs but in the hemi- 
 spheres of the cortex ; they are the combined result of 
 the present state of conscious sensations and of old 
 memories with which they can be associated. This 
 explains easily why hallucinations and dreams must 
 naturally appear no less real than the sensations in the 
 normal state of waking consciousness. 
 
 It is but in agreement with all the other facts of 
 nervous activity that, if a sensory fibre is irritated in 
 sleep (be it by an internal or an external cause), and if 
 the irritation is transmitted to its cortical centre, it 
 
288 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 will produce there a re-awakening of former memories 
 in the same way as a sensation does. This re-awaken- 
 ing is perceived as a present sensation, and not being 
 contradicted by the testimony of any of the senses, it 
 appears as real. Indeed it is (considered as a per- 
 cept) as real as a sensed perception can be. It is pro- 
 duced by the same organs in 'the very same place. 
 
 We have been taught by experience to find the 
 corresponding objects of our sense-percepts outside of 
 ourselves. Thus they are projected to the place of 
 their supposed origin. Is it not quite as natural that 
 dream-visions should be treated in the same manner? 
 They are projected to a place where their origin under 
 normal circumstances must be supposed to be. 
 
 An irritation at any place along the whole line of a 
 sensory nerve-fibre produces a sensation which is im- 
 agined to take place at the origin of the nerve. To 
 that point the irritation is always projected even if 
 that part of the nerve no longer exists. If a special 
 nerve in the stump of a limb or along the line of the 
 nerve up to its cortical centre as hurt, the pain ap- 
 pears as real and at the same time is as distinctly spe- 
 cified or localized in the missing limb as if the latter 
 still existed. An irritation in the nerve of the big toe 
 is felt in the big toe even after the amputation of the 
 whole leg, as if foot and toe were still in connection 
 with the body. In fact, the pain is real and so is the 
 vision of a dream. But the cause of the pain is wrongly 
 interpreted, and so is the cause of a vision. 
 
 Let us suppose, that the enemy of a certain country 
 had been able to bribe the telegraph-operators, and 
 the latter had sent to the capital a spurious dispatch 
 about some great victory. Would not in this case the 
 report of the victory, the joyous celebration and meas- 
 
THE REALITY OF DREAMS. 289 
 
 ures taken in consequence thereof, be just as real and 
 positive, as if the victory were true ? When the sen- 
 sory organs in their totality or in part remain inactive, 
 and the central organs are set into motion through in- 
 ternal incitements, the result will be precisely the 
 same as if the incitement had come from the sense- 
 organs. 
 
 Every recollection that a man has, is an image of 
 former sensory impressions. Certainly, it is weak in 
 comparison with the present sensation, it is faded and 
 dim. Nevertheless it is a real image. And when the 
 image of a memory is revived not by mere association 
 through commissural fibres, but through the same 
 sensory fibres, which in the waking state transmit sen- 
 sations, it is but natural that the image will appear as 
 vivid and as present as a real object. 
 
 Maury has sought by experiment to produce dreams 
 of a certain kind.* He begged a friend to remain be- 
 side him in the evening, and as soon as he fell asleep to 
 excite certain sensations in him, without telling what 
 they were to be, and to wake him after giving him 
 time to dream. On one occasion eau-de-cologne was 
 given to him to smell ; he dreamed that he was in a 
 perfumer's shop, then the idea of the perfume aroused 
 that of the East, and he dreamed that he was in Jean 
 Farina's shop at Cairo. The nape of his neck was gently 
 pinched, and he dreamed that a blister was applied to 
 it, which recalled to mind the physician who had at- 
 tended him in childhood. When a hot iron was brought 
 near his face he dreamed of stokers. When he was 
 asleep on another occasion, a person present ordered 
 him in a loud voice to take a match, and he dreamed 
 that of his own accord he went to find one. 
 
 * Maury, Sommeil et Rfcves, p. 127. 
 
290 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 It appears as a natural consequence of this view that 
 we can dream such things only as we have experienced. 
 Our dreams are confined to the materials stored up in 
 our memory ; yet this material can be so rearranged, it 
 can so appear in new combinations, that we may some- 
 times be astonished at the originality of our dreams. 
 
 The wealth of intellectual life also depends upon the 
 store of memories hoarded up in the hemispheres. The 
 sensations which we receive at present and which be- 
 come conscious in our mind, derive all their signifi- 
 cance from their associations with former sensations. 
 
 When we see an old friend of ours and hear his 
 words, it is not the present sensation alone that excites 
 us. His appearance and the timbre of his voice are 
 recognized as identical with old memories, and may 
 thus arouse a storm of awakening recollections in all 
 the corners of our brain. How many memories of olden 
 times have been, as it were, asleep in our mind, but 
 in a moment, when by some association they are con- 
 nected with the present state of consciousness, they 
 rise like spirits from the depths of unconscious exist- 
 ence, like spirits and yet in such a vivid manner 
 that the past seems to become present and the imagin- 
 ary appears as real. 
 
 Goethe describes the awakening of old memories 
 most beautifully in his dedication of Faust. In his 
 old age thinking of the beloved ones of his youth, 
 Goethe says : 
 
 Again ye come, ye hovering Forms ! I find ye 
 As early to my clouded sight ye shone 1 
 
 Shall I attempt this once to seize and bind ye ? 
 Still o'er my heart is that illusion thrown ? 
 
 Ye crowd more near ! Then be the reign assigned ye, 
 
 And sway me from your misty shadowy zone ! 
 My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, 
 From magic airs that round your march awaken. 
 
THE REALITY OF DREAMS. 291 
 
 Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision ; 
 
 The dear, familiar phantoms rise again, 
 And, like an old and half-extinct tradition, 
 
 First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. 
 Renewed is Pain : With mournful repetition 
 
 Life tracks his devious labyrinthine chain, 
 And names the Good whose cheating fortune tore them 
 From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. 
 
 The present surroundings of the poet disappear, 
 while the memories of the past rise in his mind and 
 become reality again. Grethe concludes the poem with 
 these lines : 
 
 What I possess I see far distant lying, 
 And what I lost, grows real and undying. 
 
 These stanzas are not mere figures of speech. They 
 depict the awakening of old memories as they rise in 
 the mind of the poet gradually filling the actual present 
 with their reality. 
 
DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. 
 
 IN the artificial sleep of hypnosis the dream-images 
 are as perfectly real as in natural sleep, and in post- 
 hypnotic suggestions the images likewise appear equally 
 real, to such a degree, that a subject is very seldom 
 able to distinguish them from reality. It seems as if 
 even a fever-patient could more easily discern between 
 truth and delirium than the hypnotic subject. 
 
 Concerning the reality of suggested hallucinations 
 Professor Forel says : 
 
 I have frequently made the following experiment. During 
 the hypnosis I told Miss L., that on awaking she would find two 
 violets in her lap, both of them natural and beautiful, and that she 
 would give me the prettier flower ; but I laid a real violet on her 
 lap. On awaking she beheld two violets ; one was brighter, more 
 beautiful, she said, and therewith she gave me the corner of her 
 white pocket-handkerchief, but kept for herself the real violet. I 
 now asked, whether she believed that both violets were real or, 
 whether one of my supposed presents, known to her from previous 
 experience, were among them. She said, that the brighter violet 
 was not real, because on the pocket-handkerchief it looked so 
 flattened. 
 
 In this case the subject could distinguish to some 
 extent the hallucination from reality. Forel con- 
 tinues : 
 
 I repeated the experiment with the suggestion of three real, 
 equally dark violets, not at all flattened, but fragrant, with stem 
 and palpable lea/es; but I only gave her one genuine violet. 
 
 This time Miss L was completely deceived, and was utterly 
 
 unable to tell me, whether one of the violets or two, or indeed all 
 
DREAMS AND HALL UCINA TIONS. 293 
 
 three, were real or suggested ; all three, as she thought, were this 
 time genuine ; at the same time she grasped with one hand the air, 
 and held the genuine violet in the other. 
 
 Hence we learn, that when we suggest sensations for all the 
 senses, the illusion is complete. 
 
 For example, I hand to another hypnotized lady a real knife, 
 and tell her, that there are three. Though fully awake she is ab- 
 solutely unable to distinguish the supposed three knives one from 
 another, not even if she employs them for cutting, if she touches 
 them, or drums on the window-pane. When other persons later 
 derided her on the score of her illusion, she grew angry, and firmly 
 maintained, that there had been three knives, that I only later 
 had hidden two of them ; she had seen all three knives, felt, heard 
 them, and would not yield on this point." 
 
 Bernheim once gave to a patient of his hospital in 
 an hypnotic state the following suggestion : 
 
 " In six days, during the night between Thursday and Friday, 
 you will see the nurse come to your bed and pour cold water over 
 your feet." On the following Friday, she loudly complained that 
 the nurse had poured cold water on her feet during the night. The 
 nurse was called, but naturally denied it. He then said to the 
 patient : " It was a dream, for you know how I can make you 
 dream ; the nurse has done nothing." She "emphatically declared, 
 that it was no dream ; for she had clearly seen it, felt the water, 
 and become wet." 
 
 Beaunis relates the following suggestion, which 
 may at the same time serve as a natural explanation of 
 second sight : 
 
 " On the afternoon of the i4th of July, 1884, I hypnotized 
 Miss E., and gave her the following suggestion : " On the first of 
 January, 1885, at 10 A. M., you will see me ; I shall come to wish 
 you a Happy New Year; after that is done I shall immediately dis- 
 appear." I did not mention this suggestion to anybody. Miss E. 
 lives in Nancy. I was myself in Paris on the first of January, 1885. 
 That day, Miss E. told a friend, a physician and several other per- 
 sons, that on the same day, at 10 A. M., when she was in her 
 room, she heard somebody knocking at the door. She said : ' Come 
 in ! ' and to her astonishment saw me enter, and heard me with a 
 
294 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 cheerful voice wish her a Happy New Year. I immediately went 
 out ; she at once hastened to the window to see me leave the house, 
 but did not see any further trace of me. To her surprise, she also 
 noticed that I, at that season, had come to her in a summer dress. 
 (The same clothes that I wore at the time of the suggestion.) Her 
 attention was in vain called to the fact that I was in Paris on the 
 first of January, and could not have come to her on that day. 
 Nevertheless she maintained that she had seen and heard me, and 
 she is still convinced of that, in spite of my declarations that it was 
 impossible." 
 
 One of the strangest facts as to the reality of hallu- 
 cinations is the observation of Messrs. Fere and Binet, 
 that the laws of optics hold good for suggested images 
 as well as for real ones. Thus they suggested to a 
 hypnotized subject that she would see a portrait on a 
 table. The subject when awakened saw the portrait, 
 and when Dr. Fer6 placed a prism before her eye, she 
 was greatly astonished to see the portrait double. Dr. 
 Fere informs us that the subject had no education and 
 could not possibly have any idea of the qualities of a 
 prism. Other instruments had in the same way their 
 natural effect. The mirror reflected the suggested im- 
 age, while an opera glass brought it nearer, and if in- 
 verted, projected it to a greater distance. Yet upon 
 close examination, it was found that the magnified 
 picture only showed larger proportions, but revealed 
 no finer details than could be seen with the naked eye. 
 
 There is, accordingly, a difference between dreams 
 and hallucinations. Dreams are, as a rule, products 
 of inward incitements solely. Suggestions, however, 
 are associated with certain external sensations. If the 
 suggestion is given that a subject will see a bird on her 
 hand, she will see, before a mirror, the reflection of her 
 hand and with the hand also the bird reflected. What- 
 ever change the object suffers with which the sugges- 
 
DREAMS AND HALL UCINA TIONS. 295 
 
 tion is associated, the same will be observed in the 
 suggestion. 
 
 There is a story about a man who when going to 
 bed put slippers on his feet and armed his eyes with 
 spectacles, because he used to dream that he stepped 
 into glass-splinters which caused him much pain. He 
 did not notice the glass in his dreams, because of his 
 shortsightedness. 
 
 We are not informed of the success attending 
 his remedy, but if the frequent occurrence of the odd 
 dreams had to be attributed to an itching in his soles, 
 if, as we suppose it did, the pain existed first and the 
 dream consisted in an interpretation of the pain, the 
 ingenuous method of protecting his feet with slippers, 
 it is most probable, was of no avail. 
 
 It would be different if a hypnotic subject had been 
 told that the surface of the lawn was strewn with glass. 
 In that case he would feel innumerable wounds in his 
 feet, if he walked over the lawn bare-footed, but he 
 would be protected against the paki if he saw that a 
 thick leather sole remained between himself and the 
 grass. 
 
 The reality of dreams, which subjectively considered 
 cannot be distinguished from the reality of sensations, 
 is the source of many errors in philosophy, as well as 
 religion. Schopenhauer * derives from this fact his 
 idealism. The subjectivity of the world, (/. e., the 
 world in so far as it is my conception, the world as it 
 appears to me) is mere appearance (Erscheinung) ; it 
 "is in this respect akin to dream"; Schopenhauer 
 says, "it belongs to the same class. The same cere- 
 bral function which in sleep produces an objective, vis- 
 
 * Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, Vol. II, p. 4. 
 
296 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ible, and palpable world must be no less active in the 
 production of the objective world in the waking state." 
 
 Schopenhauer claims, and undoubtedly he is right, 
 that there is a remarkable difference between dreams 
 and the play of our imagination. Yet it is a difference 
 of degree not of kind. The imagination of the savage 
 is real and objective like the images of dreams, while 
 the imagination of the philosopher and the inventor 
 is more abstract. The poet at least the modern poet 
 may often stand between both. Even such a man 
 as Goethe, critical though his mind'was, could not en- 
 tirely free himself from visions. Yet we must remember 
 that the account of his vision is reported in a book 
 which he entitled Wahrheit und ' Dichtung. ' It seems 
 probable that memory-pictures appear real only when 
 innervated by the nerve - fibres that rise from the 
 central ganglions of the brain. These nerve-fibres 
 being the usual channels for the transmission of sen- 
 sory impressions, it seems natural that the effect of 
 their innervation is the same whatever the cause of 
 their irritation may be. The commissural fibres, how- 
 ever, that serve the purpose of association, cannot 
 have a stronger effect in dream than in the waking 
 state. The innervation by commissural fibres awakens 
 conceptions and images only in such a way as they 
 appear in our imagination. 
 
 The savage who is almost incapable of abstract 
 thought, will naturally be limited to an imagination of 
 palpable visions, while the thinker or the inventor, 
 whose brain is filled with commissural fibres, can 
 better dispense with the dreams of the waking con- 
 sciousness and exercises his imagination chiefly in 
 abstract thought. 
 
 The life-like corporeality of dreams appears natural 
 
DREAMS AND HALL UCINA TIONS. 297 
 
 
 
 when we consider the physiology of sensations and the 
 kinship that obtains between sensations and dreams. 
 There is no evidence, as Schopenhauer imagines, for 
 our possessing a special organ of dream which he sup- 
 poses to have its seat in the great sympathetic plexus ; 
 and still less can it prove that the soul is endowed 
 with the power of producing an extended world out of 
 itself. Schopenhauer says, " As the stomach and the 
 bowels change everything which they digest into chyle, 
 thus the brain reacts upon all irritations by produc- 
 ing tridimensional images, subject to the law of cau- 
 sality." We see no possibility that a being whose 
 sensations were always tridimensional, should have 
 four-dimensional visions in his dreams. 
 
 The different nerves, it is true, possess special 
 energies, which make them react always in the same 
 way as sensations of light in the optic nerve, or as 
 sensations of sound in the auditory. Yet this special 
 energy is not purely subjective; it is the inherited 
 product of objective impression upon the subject. It 
 is an acquisition of the experiences of former genera- 
 tions. The objective reality of sound waves cannot be 
 doubted merely because the subjective sensation of 
 sound is an inherited "special energy " of the nerve 
 apparatus of hearing. If it were indeed merely sub- 
 jective, we would be obliged to accept the conse- 
 quences of the extremest Idealism, that the whole 
 world is a dream and that there is no difference be- 
 tween dream and reality. 
 
 From our standpoint dreams find their natural ex- 
 planation; and the arguments brought forth by Ideal- 
 ism fall to the ground. 
 
 In concluding this chapter we call attention to the 
 fact that the life-like reality of dreams must be consid- 
 
298 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ered as the origin of man's belief. in ghosts. In Homer 
 we find the following passage : 
 
 - " Hush'd by the murmurs of the rolling deep, 
 Achilles sinks in the soft arms of sleep. 
 When lo ! the shade, before his closing eyes, 
 Of sad Patroclus rose. He saw him rise 
 In the same robe he living wore. He came 
 In stature, voice, and pleasing look the same. 
 The form familiar hover'd o'er his head, 
 " And sleeps Achilles (thus the phantom said:) 
 Sleeps my Achilles, his Patroclus dead ? 
 Living, I seem'd his dearest, tenderest care, 
 But now forgot, I wander in the air, 
 Let my pale corse the rites of burial know, 
 And give me entrance in the realms below." 
 
 "And is it thou? (he answers) To my sight 
 Once more return'st thou from the realms of night? 
 O more than brother ! Think each office paid, 
 Whate'er can rest a discontented shade ; 
 But grant one last embrace, unhappy boy ! 
 Afford at. least that melancholy joy." 
 
 He said, and with his longing armsessay'd 
 In vain to grasp the visionary shade ! 
 Like a thin smoke he sees the spirit fly, 
 And hears a feeble, lamentable cry. 
 Confused he wakes ; amazement breaks the bands 
 . Of golden sleep, and starting from the sands, 
 Pensive he muses with uplifted hands : 
 
 " 'Tis true, 'tis certain ; man, though dead, retains 
 Part of himself ; the immortal mind remains ; 
 The form subsists without the body's aid, 
 Aerial semblance, and an empty shade ! 
 This night my friend, so late in battle lost, 
 Stood at my side, a pensive, plaintive ghost : 
 Even now familiar, as in life, he came ; 
 Alas ! how different 1 yet how like the same ! " 
 
 Dreams were considered as caused by the hovering 
 phantoms of the departed spirit. This we know is an 
 error. Yet let us not forget, that there is a truth even 
 in this superstition. The vision of our dream is a 
 reality, although there is no ghost standing at our 
 bedside. The images of the deceased continue to live 
 in our brains, they continue to influence our actions and 
 prove themselves in many cases most powerful pres- 
 ences. Shakespeare depicts in several of his dramas, 
 
DREAMS AND HALL UCINA TIONS. 299 
 
 how real are the ghastly shadows of innocent victims 
 in the imagination of the murderer. And how often 
 is the memory of a mother a veritable blessing to her 
 child, better and more valuable than the inheritance 
 of wealth and worldly goods. 
 
SUGGESTION- AND SUGGESTIBILITY. 
 
 Two means can be employed for provoking hallu- 
 cinations in a hypnotized subject ; first, the panto- 
 mimic attitude, and second, the verbal suggestion. 
 We can impart to the subject a certain position that is 
 closely associated with the memories of the state of 
 mind to be provoked : a clenched fist, for example, is 
 associated with the notion of anger. But it is much 
 more convenient to produce hallucinations through the 
 words that are connected with this or that mental 
 state. A verbal suggestion attacks at its very centre 
 the idea that is to be aroused. Thus the alarm of 
 "Fire" suddenly raised in a crowded theatre, will 
 create the wildest confusion, and the most dangerous 
 excitement. The unexpected but impressive and 
 natural shout " a mouse" will cause terror among a 
 company of ladies. Some will at once jump upon 
 chairs, before the truth or untruth of the terrible an- 
 nouncement can be ascertained ; and if, perchance, a 
 slight rustling in the paper basket is heard, witnesses 
 will probably come forward who have seen a mouse in 
 bodily form, and who in perfect good faith would 
 maintain upon oath the truth of their statement. Such 
 witnesses, it cannot be doubted, have seen a mouse, 
 the real image of a mouse, but it was only a halluci- 
 nation. 
 
 The suggestion given to hypnotic subjects, works 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY. 301 
 
 in a manner that is not much different. It is the 
 awakening into a vivid reality of certain images in their 
 mind. The suggestion, therefore, is upon the whole 
 limited to the material found in the brain of the sub- 
 ject, and consists mainly in combinations of extant 
 ideas. It may, accordingly, be perfectly possible to 
 suggest to an untutored individual the conceit, that 
 he or she is a great mathematician; but, by virtue of 
 this, the subject will by no means really become such. 
 To make this possible, one should indispensably have 
 to suggest to him all the single propositions and les- 
 sons that are laboriously learned at school. Sugges- 
 tion can only occasionally add something entirely new 
 and even then it is a mere trifle in comparison to the 
 memory-material which it employs. 
 
 A most remarkable phenomenon is the post-hyp- 
 notic suggestion, which, like an alarm clock, is set 
 to take place at a definitely fixed point of time. The 
 French call it suggestion a echeance. The suggested 
 idea remains unconscious, and at the time determined 
 spontaneously appears with astonishing accuracy. 
 
 Dr. Frederick Bjornstrom relates the following 
 episode of an experiment performed by Drs. Liegeois 
 and Liebault: 
 
 Liegeois has succeeded with a suggestion of one year's dura- 
 tion. On October 12, 1885, he hypnotized in Nancy a young man, 
 Paul M., already before subjected to hypnotic experiments. At 
 10. 10 A. M., he told him during the hypnosis that the following 
 would happen to him on the same day one year later. "You will 
 go to Monsieur Liebault in the morning. You will say, that your 
 eyes have been well for a whole year, and that for that you are 
 indebted to him and to M. Liegeois. You will express your grati- 
 tude to both, and you will ask permission to embrace both of 
 them, which they will gladly allow you to do. After that, you 
 will see a dog and a trained monkey enter the doctor's room, one 
 
302 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 carrying the other. They will play various pranks and make 
 grimaces, and it will greatly amuse you. Five minutes later, you 
 will behold the trainer with a tame bear. This man will be re- 
 joiced to find his dog and his monkey, which he thought he had 
 lost ; in order to please the company, he will let his bear dance 
 also an American grizzly bear, of large frame but very gentle 
 and you will not be afraid of him. Just as the man is about to 
 leave, you will ask M. Liegeois to let you have ten centimes to 
 give to the dog, who will beg, and you will give them to him 
 yourself." 
 
 Liegeois and Liebault, at whose clinic the experiment was 
 made, naturally kept the suggestion a secret, so that the somnam- 
 bulist might not get any knowledge of it. 
 
 One year later on the twelfth of October, 1 386 Liegeois was 
 at Liebault's before 9 A. M. At 9.39, as nobody had arrived, the 
 former considered the experiment a failure and returned to his 
 rooms. But at ten minutes past ten, the youth, Paul, who had 
 better remembered the hour, came to Liebault and thanked him, 
 but also asked for Liegeois. The latter arrived immediately, called 
 by a messenger. Paul arose, rushed to meet him, and thanked 
 him also. In the presence of fifteen or twenty reliable witnesses, 
 the hallucinations now clearly developed themselves in Paul as 
 they had been predicted one year before. Paul saw a monkey and 
 a dog enter ; he was amused by their antics and grimaces. Then 
 he saw the dog approach him, holding a box in his mouth. Paul 
 borrowed ten centimes from Liegeois and made a gesture as if to 
 give them to the dog. Then the trainer came and took away the 
 monkey and the dog. But no bear appeared. Nor did Paul think 
 of embracing any one. With the exception of these two details, 
 the suggestion had thus been fulfilled. The experiment was ended. 
 Paul complained of slight nervous weakness. In order to restore 
 him, L. hypnotized him ; but took the opportunity during the hyp- 
 nosis, to ask for information about what had just happened. 
 "Why did you just now see that monkey and that dog ? " " Be- 
 cause you gave me suggestion of it on the twelfth of October, 
 1885." "Have you not mistaken the hour ? I thought I said at 
 9 A. M." "No, it is you who remember wrong. You did not 
 hypnotize me on the sofa I am now occupying, but on the one op- 
 posite. Then you let me follow you out into the garden, and 
 asked me to return in one year ; just then it was ten minutes past 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY. 303 
 
 ten, and it was at that hour that I returned." " But why did you 
 not see any bear, and why did you not embrace Liebault and 
 me?" "Because you told me that only once, whereas you re- 
 peated the rest twice." 
 
 All those present were struck with the precision of his an- 
 swers, and Liegeois had to acknowledge that Paul's memory was 
 better than his own. Awakened after ten or fifteen minutes, Paul 
 was entirely calm and had no remembrance of what he had just 
 said during the hypnosis, nor did he remember what happened 
 before the hypnosis in consequence of the suggestion of October 
 12, 1885. 
 
 Post-hypnotic suggestions can be given not only 
 so as to produce harmless hallucinations, but also 
 to prompt the subject to the execution of crimes. 
 In Dr. Charcot's clinic a patient was ordered to kill 
 an assistant physician and a slip of cardboard was 
 suggested to her as a dagger. The woman promptly 
 obeyed the command and after the performance of the 
 deed gave a fictitious reason for committing the crime, 
 never doubting that she had acted on her own account. 
 
 Suggestibility is an attitude which can be observed 
 in normal soul-life, not only now and then, as an ex- 
 ception but as an everyday occurrence. It is man's dis- 
 position to receive and accept ideas. The best ' ' drum- 
 mer " for a business-house is he that most surrepti- 
 tiously insinuates to his customers the belief that they 
 stand in need of his goods. The best teacher is he, 
 that, in the simplest manner possible, imparts to his 
 pupils the knowledge which he possesses. The best 
 preacher or orator is he who most strongly impresses 
 His moral injunctions upon his hearers. In short, 
 suggestion is met with wherever ideas are transplanted 
 from brain to brain. 
 
 Suggestibility in its highest stage of normal soul- 
 
304 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 life is called docility. It constitutes the receptiveness 
 of the soul, the faculty of receiving, assimilating, and 
 appropriating ideas. When this receptivity is joined 
 to clear consciousness, the new ideas will not be 
 received simply, they will be compared with the old 
 ones, and either arranged among them in proper order 
 or rejected as conflicting ideas. In such case they are 
 relegated to the lumber-room of the brain among those 
 concepts which we class as absurdities and errors. 
 But when, in sleep or in hypnosis, the activity of con- 
 sciousness has been reduced, and when the memorial 
 chain of past experiences has been broken, receptivity 
 also is lowered to an indiscriminate and uncritical re- 
 ception of anything that offers itself; thus we see, that 
 both in the dreamer and in the hypnotized subject any 
 absurdity may find ready entrance. All control, all 
 critique is lost, when a comparison with old experi- 
 ences has been rendered impossible. 
 
 The three phases of hypnotism, in their variety and 
 with their numerous transitional states, can be char- 
 acterized in the following manner: 
 
 The suppression of consciousness (/. <?., the con- 
 sciousness of the central soul) is common to all three 
 states. In the hypnotic state we encounter an auto- 
 matic-mechanical working of intelligence. If we say 
 to an hypnotized subject, "you have murdered a man; 
 look, there is blood still clinging to your hand," he 
 proves unable to coordinate this idea with other 
 notions. Therefore he accepts it without criticism as 
 a fact. He not only believes the suggestion, but he even 
 acts accordingly. He washes his hands, and devises 
 plans with logically correct arguments, often showing 
 great intelligence in the effort to escape the consequen- 
 ces of his imaginary transgression. With individuals, 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY. 305 
 
 in whom religious feelings and ideas are strongly de- 
 veloped, there is evinced a readiness to take upon them- 
 selves the consequences, and to expiate the deed by 
 submission to punishment. But in every case the 
 somnambulic process of reflection is effected with the 
 same regularity and with the same intelligence. as if 
 the individual were in full possession of his conscious- 
 ness. Nay, the process is accomplished more swiftly, 
 because the inhibition which in various ways occurs 
 through the presence of consciousness falls out entirely. 
 The ideas that once have been stimulated, be it fear 
 or hope, or conceptions liable to rouse fear or hope, 
 will work with mechanical exactness, according to the 
 dynamical power which the brain-structures that repre- 
 sent these ideas in the subject, possess. 
 
 The somnambulic state is a process of intelligent 
 automatism; it is a phenomenon of mental deliberation 
 with the exclusion of a centralized consciousness. 
 
 DIAGRAM SHOWING THE MECHANISM OF SOMNAMBULISM. 
 
 EXPLANATION. 
 
 Centralized consciousness, which manifests 
 itself in conscious sensation as well as conscious 
 will, is excluded. A suggestion is given by 
 certain sensory impressions (S I) which produce 
 an /rritation of their sensory ganglion, taking 
 place in the ascending line, i. <?., the .Sensory 
 vVerve, at / S A T . It is thence transmitted to the 
 memories of the hemispheres. There it takes 
 effect as a suggestion. (Sugg.} Not being pro- ISNQ/ \QIMN 
 perly coordinated with other ideas, it is readily 
 accepted without any critique. The wary guard- 
 ian, consciousness, being asleep, there is no in- 
 hibition to check the progress of innervation. SI( 
 As in the case of sleep-walking, the ideas awakened innervate di- 
 rectly and unhesitatingly the motor ganglions (the /nnervation 
 taking place in the descending line, representing the Motory ./Verve, 
 at / M N), which at once produce muscular motion (MM). 
 
306 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 EXPLANATION OF THE DIAGRAM. 
 
 NORMAL 
 
 ABNORMAL 
 
 Attention 
 
 CONCENTRATION 
 
 Docility 
 
 THE HEIGHT OF 
 
 Wake-Dream- 
 ing 
 
 Visions 
 MINIMUM OF 
 
 Dreams 
 Sleep-walking 
 
 MINIMUM OF 
 Dreamless Sleep 
 
 MINIMUM OF 
 Profound Sleep 
 
 Ecstasy 
 
 OFjMlND 
 
 Suggestibility 
 
 SELF CONSCIOUS- 
 NESS 
 
 Hallucinations 
 
 WAKING CON- 
 SCIOUSNESS 
 
 PSYCHIC ACTIVITY 
 Cataleptic State 
 
 NERVOUS RE- 
 ACTIONS 
 
 Lethargic State 
 
 In the highest state of con- 
 sciousness, attention is concen- 
 trated upon one object or idea ; 
 all thought that is not subser- 
 vient to, or may interfere with 
 this purpose, is checked. In 
 the corresponding abnormal 
 state this concentration is so 
 absolute that it produces a kind 
 of intellectual trance, called 
 "ecstasy." Ecstasy is a fixed- 
 ness or torpor of consciousness, 
 which, as we learned in a former 
 discussion on the subject, will 
 
 Somnambulic State lead to a real trance, it will 
 hypnotize. 
 
 A very high state of conscious- 
 ness, which however need not 
 be so high as that of attention, 
 is the attitude of mind called 
 "docility " in which sensations 
 or ideas are perceived and 
 correctly recognized. It is a 
 NERVOUS ACTIVITY state of receptivity. In the cor- 
 Hypolethargic responding abnormal state, the 
 
 State ideas received are not com- 
 
 of Death pared with the memories of 
 
 former experiences ; they are 
 accepted in good faith without 
 discrimination. 
 
 The senses of a man in a state 
 of fatigue become gradually 
 dulled, They cease to perform 
 their work with accuracy. At 
 the same time thoughts become 
 visionary ; they turn up promis- 
 cuously, often without any logical connection, but following a very loose asso- 
 ciation which gives to their appearance the shape of fortuitous incidents. 
 Single ideas or memory-images may still remain awake. They can under 
 circumstances afterwards be remembered as dreams. In profound sleep all 
 thoughts and dreams cease, while through the increase of the trophic [nutri- 
 tive] functions in the nervous substance, the expenditure of energy is restored 
 and anew rise of consciousness is prepared. 
 
 In the cataleptic state, besides consciousness, the 
 activity of intelligent mentality is also suppressed. 
 The nerve-process is, in this case, limited to simple re- 
 flex-motions. Man becomes a living muscular manikin, 
 
SUG GES TIBIL fTY. 307 
 
 which submits to being placed, at the hypnotizer's dis- 
 cretion, in any position. 
 
 In the lethargic state a great part of the mechanism 
 of the nervous reflex-motions is, in addition, rendered 
 inactive; the reflex centres of breathing, the beating of 
 the heart, and the trophic functions alone remain at 
 work. In a hypo-lethargic state even these last signs 
 of nervous vitality become low and the similarity of 
 the state to swoons and trances warns the experi- 
 menter of the danger to which the subject here is ex- 
 posed a danger which naturally forbids further ex- 
 periments. 
 
THE CO-ORDINATION OF MENTAL ACTIVITY. 
 
 WE may compare the hemispheres of the brain to a 
 globe upon the walls of which all the many memories 
 of former experiences are inscribed. There are images 
 of concrete objects and symbols of abstract thoughts, 
 but all of them are alive; and every one of them is di- 
 rectly or indirectly in a two-fold telegraphic connection 
 with the outside world: every one of them receives and 
 sends out dispatches ; there are afferent and efferent 
 nerve-fibers. The globe is irregularly illuminated, 
 and often quite dark; for the living memories may per- 
 form their work unconsciously ; every one of them is 
 living and feeling ; but the feeling remains compara- 
 tively low, so long as it is isolated. It is in such 
 case not communicated to the central soul. In order 
 to be conscious, it must be centralized, it must be con- 
 nected with the organ of concentration which co- 
 ordinates all ideas and thus locates the one that at 
 the moment comes to the front. 
 
 A special idea (a sensation, or the memory of a 
 sensation, or an abstract thought) being for a moment 
 centralized among all the other ideas of a brain, attains 
 a prominence and a strength in feeling which is called 
 consciousness. Consciousness is nothing but exalted 
 feeling ; it is, so to say, condensed and centralized 
 feeling. In its highest state which it attains through 
 coordination we may call it self-consciousness. 
 
MENTAL CO-ORDINATION. 309 
 
 The idea that at the time flashes up in con- 
 sciousness may be compared to the centre of vision. 
 The object which we look at is clear and distinct ; yet 
 it is not the only image present in the field of vision. 
 The other objects grow more and more indistinct the 
 farther they are from the centre and many things will 
 remain unnoticed, although they are pictured upon 
 the retina of the eye. Similarly the ideas in our 
 mind that are grouped around the present centre of 
 consciousness grow dimmer and dimmer and disap- 
 pear at last in the gloomy twilight of unconscious 
 vagueness. The intermediate states we call subcon- 
 scious. Yet even those nervous structures which at 
 the time are unconscious, must not be considered as 
 utterly void of feeling. So long as they are alive they 
 can in an instant be centralized, and thus come to the 
 front in consciousness. 
 
 The mechanism of concentration, it seems, is 
 located in a special organ. The operation of this 
 mechanism may be compared to ,an electric battery 
 which provides the interior of the globe with light. 
 
 Then the process of conscious thought would be like 
 the illumination now of this and now of that spot in the 
 structures of the hemispheres. That spot which at a 
 given moment receives the full effect of the incandes- 
 cence forms, as it were, a centre of brightness. But 
 the vicinity about it also appears luminous, indeed the 
 whole globe is, although dimly in its distant parts, lit 
 from that one spot ; and the subumbra increases with 
 the distance from the centre. Yet it may be that here 
 and there, where direct associations obtain, spots that 
 are relatively brighter, will appear amid the dusk of 
 the remoter regions. It is not always the same spot 
 which forms the centre of brightness. The centre is 
 
310 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 changing and may rapidly change. As a rule it is all 
 but impossible for it to remain the same for any length 
 of time, because the energy of that one idea would 
 soon be exhausted. Every concentration upon one 
 idea is tiresome, and we know that concentration is 
 one of the means employed by hypnotizers to produce 
 artificially that state of sleep which is called hypnosis. 
 
 We have reason to believe that this function, which 
 we have compared to the operation of an electric bat- 
 tery, is performed by a special organ of the brain. All 
 the facts hitherto ascertained by observation and ex- 
 periment seem to establish the theory that the large 
 ganglions of the nervous system, the Cerebellum, the 
 Thalamus, and Corpus Striatum, are, each in its way, 
 organs of coordination. The Corpus Striatum we 
 suppose to be the organ of coordination for the hemi- 
 spheres. It is a ganglion, the structure of which is 
 analogous to the structure of the hemispheres, not only 
 in so far as it has grown out from the walls of the hemi- 
 spheres but also because its gray substance (especially 
 in the put 'amen} forms a terminus similar to the cerebral 
 cells in the cortex, with which latter, furthermore, it 
 is in various directions, intimately connected. 
 
 Some psychologists suppose that in the somnam- 
 bulic state the hemispheres are completely asleep. Yet 
 this is apparently inconsistent with the theory that 
 somnambulism is an intelligent automatism unless 
 we give up all our present notions about the opera- 
 tions of the hemispheres as the organ of intelligence. 
 It is true that some physiologists consider the hemis- 
 pheres as the seat of consciousness, and thus it seems 
 that, if consciousness is asleep, the hemispheres should 
 remain inactive. But the experiments of somnabulism, 
 no less than other and kindred facts of unconscious 
 
MENTAL CO-ORDINATION. 
 
 Diagram showing the growth of the Striped Body (corpus 
 striatuni) from the hemispheres. The drawing represents a human 
 brain in a foetus of two and a half months, according to Dr. Ludwig 
 Edinger.* 
 
 soul-life, prove that acts of automatic intelligence are 
 possible, and thus point to another solution. The 
 piano virtuoso has the complex motions of his fingers 
 not in his hand alone, but in his brain, in the store- 
 house of his memories. If he executes these move- 
 ments unconsciously, the hemispheres of his brain do 
 
 *Zwolf Vorlesungen ilber den Bau der nervosen Centralorgane. By Dr 
 Ludwig Edinger. Leipzig : F. C. Vogel. 
 
312 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 A VERTICAL SECTION OF THE HU^AN BRAIN : 
 Showing the situation and shape of the Striped Body in a full- 
 grown individual. It consists of two parts, the caudate body* 
 (nucleus caudatus] and the lentiform body (nucleus lentiformis), 
 divided by the internal capsule (capsula internet}. The lentiform 
 body consists of three, sometimes of four, stripes, the outermost 
 one of which is called the shell (put amen}. 
 
 not remain inactive. Yet the activity of the hemis- 
 pheric structures is not always connected with the 
 consciousness of the central soul. After a longer pro- 
 cess of conscious exercise, they have become suffi- 
 ciently fixed as to work automatically. Automatic 
 means "self-moving," "self-acting," or "indepen- 
 
 *The caudate body has the appearance of a large comma, the biggest 
 part of which lies in front, with the tail turned backwards. The lentiform 
 body, in that part which lies opposite the claustrum appears as a lense. 
 
MENTAL CO-ORDINATION. 313 
 
 dent." Acts of automatic intelligence are such as 
 are performed independently of the centralization of 
 consciousness. 
 
 Unconscious cerebration can no longer be consid- 
 ered as extraordinary. On the contrary, it is a distinct- 
 ively normal feature of soul-life. All cerebration, it ap- 
 pears, remains unconscious, so long as it is not con- 
 centrated and properly coordinated, so long as it 
 remains unconnected with the centre of soul-life. 
 
THE SUGGESTIBILITY OF CROWDS. 
 
 THE intelligence of an aggregate of people repre- 
 sents by no means the sum of their intellectual ability, 
 but only their average capacity ; and if we could get 
 the exact measure of the understanding of crowds, we 
 would find that in most cases, it does not even reach 
 the average. One reason for this deficit in the intel- 
 ligence of masses of people will be found in the fact 
 that nobody, if seriously taken to task, cares to identify 
 himself with the whole crowd. Thus many help to give 
 expression to an opinion for which they do not feel a 
 personal responsibility. 
 
 Great masses of people are for several reasons ex- 
 tremely suggestible. First, great masses are likely to 
 be composed of many men below the average of educa- 
 tion, and people who are in possession of little knowl- 
 edge are easily influenced by any opinion that is 
 offered with great self-assertion. A lack of knowledge 
 is always accompanied with a lack of critical power. 
 Thus, secondly, great masses are not likely to show 
 much opposition to new ideas, unless a new idea directly 
 and unequivocally threatens some one of their firmly 
 established prejudices. Thirdly, even where great 
 masses consist of learned men, of professors, doctors, 
 or other people who are generally accustomed to think 
 independently, it is not likely that the majority is thor- 
 oughly familiar with that line of thought in which the 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY OF CROWDS. 315 
 
 speaker's argument moves. They may have been 
 partly indifferent to the subject before he commences 
 to speak ; or if they chanced to be interested in the sub- 
 ject, they had not as yet formed an opinion of their 
 own. An opinion is nowpresented to them ready made, 
 and the simplest thing in the world is to accept that 
 opinion just as it is offered. 
 
 Schiller in one of his Xenions expresses a similar 
 idea ; he says of some board of trustworthy men : 
 
 " Every one of them, singly considered, is sensible, doubtless, 
 But in a body they all act and behave like an ass." 
 
 Large bodies are always more likely to make mis- 
 takes than single individuals. Many cooks spoil the 
 broth ; not only because there are too many opinions, 
 but also because if they form one mass, all their 
 knowledge together does not make up the sum but the 
 mere average of their wisdom. 
 
 As a means of bringing the combined intelligence 
 of a number of persons to bear on a special point, 
 rules of discussion have been invented which make 
 it possible for every opinion to be heard before the 
 association as a whole decides upon the acceptance of 
 a special idea or plan of action. And this is the only 
 way any meeting can be conducted in which the crit- 
 ical power of the individual members is not to be 
 suppressed, but the minds of all are allowed to co- 
 operate. 
 
 There is a special art of suggesting ideas to large 
 masses and we call it oratory. The art is very valu- 
 able ; and most valuable is it in a republic. It can be 
 used for good and for evil purposes. An orator may 
 suggest base ideas perhaps, with the same cleverness 
 as noble aspirations. 
 
 We shall explain the different methods employed, 
 
316 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 for two reasons : first, to shed light upon the art of 
 oratory as a method of suggestion for its practical use 
 in serving honest and legitimate purposes ; and, sec- 
 ondly, to guard against the tricks of impostors, who 
 know how to gain the ears of an audience and lead 
 their hearers astray. 
 
 A suggester of ideas, i. e., an orator (be he teacher, 
 attorney at law, preacher, or drummer the latter has 
 generally to be an orator to two ears only) must always 
 speak in the language of his audience ; viz., his pupils, 
 his clients or the jury, his congregation, his customer. 
 He has to use the expression of Experimental Psy- 
 chology to adapt himself to his "subject." It is 
 useless to talk Greek to an audience of farmers and it 
 would be absurd to speak in stilted phrases to a crowd 
 of sailors. The orator must place himself on the same 
 level with the intellect ot his subject ; he must find a 
 common ground from which he may start; therefore it 
 is advisable to introduce first ideas that are familiar. 
 These first ideas being admitted as old friends, he can 
 gradually introduce others. Stump orators who flourish 
 and operate among the vulgar classes find it most con- 
 venient to gain entrance by flattery. An honest man 
 whose ideas will speak for themselves need not stoop 
 to such means. A drummer whose goods are worth- 
 less, commences to praise the taste of his subject and 
 adds that everybody of good taste gives the preference 
 to his merchandise. A wirepuller in a political cam- 
 paign extols the intelligence of the American nation 
 until everyone of his audience feels elated and proud 
 of being so intelligent. Then he ventures one step 
 further, declaring that no one but a fool can believe in 
 principles such as those of the other party. 
 
 The communication of ideas is an art. Yet the sub- 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY OF CROWDS. 317 
 
 jects to whom ideas are communicated should under- 
 stand the mechanical laws of that art. Knowledge is 
 a preservative, a protection against evil suggestions, 
 because it affords a means to discriminate between 
 good and evil. 
 
 An excellent example of the method how under most 
 difficult circumstances certain ideas can be suggested 
 to a mass of people that are not willing to accept them, 
 is the famous scene on the Roman forum in Shake- 
 speare's Julius Ctzsar. Brutus is demanded to give 
 an account of the murder of Caesar, and he justifies 
 himself to the general satisfaction of his audience. 
 "Who is here so base," he asks, "that would be a 
 bondman?" Of course, every one wants to be a free 
 man, a Roman citizen. To the question "Why Brutus 
 rose against Caesar?" he answers : "Not that I loved 
 Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. ... As Caesar 
 loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I re- 
 joice at it ; as he was valiant, I honor him ; but as he 
 was ambitious, I slew him." 
 
 Brutus's oratory is natural and it is grand in its 
 simplicity. Its fallacies are believed in by himself. 
 He committed a noble crime when he stabbed his 
 fatherly friend ; and his speech is convincing because 
 it shows the nobility of his motive. 
 
 Mark Antony has a more difficult position ; he is 
 looked upon as the defendant of an ambitious tyrant, 
 and it appears as specially objectionable to say any- 
 thing derogatory of such honest men as Brutus, Cas- 
 sius, and the other conspirators. He therefore, de- 
 clares it his intention only to perform the burial, which 
 none of the proud and free Roman citizens would deny 
 the meanest man in Italy. He praises the honesty of 
 Brutus and the conspirators, by whose kind permis- 
 
3i 8 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 sion he is 'allowed to speak. Here is the trick of his 
 oratory, and Mark Antony is fully conscious of it. 
 He does not start from a common ground ; but he 
 starts from an idea strongly supported by his hearers, 
 which is the very same idea that he is about to give 
 battle to, and to destroy. Mark Antony is open to the 
 charge of equivocation. He is not honest and square 
 like Brutus. He deliberately and cautiously instills 
 one drop of venom after another into the souls of 
 his " subjects " until they are full to the brim and cry 
 for vengeance on the murderers of Caesar. It is true 
 he prosecutes criminals, and the criminals ought to be 
 punished. But his prosecution is not dictated by the 
 love of justice but by the desires of a robber to de- 
 prive his successful brother-robbers of their spoil. 
 After having stirred the free citizens, the proud Ro- 
 mans and masters of the world into a furious excite- 
 ment, he says : 
 
 " Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot, 
 Take thou what course thou wilt. 
 
 This masterpiece of Shakespeare's dramatic genius 
 faithfully depicts the type of crowds. The conquerors 
 of the world had in Caesar's time ceased to be free men, 
 they lacked the backbone of the contemporaries of 
 the Scipios, of a Cincinnatus, and of a Fabricius. They 
 allowed their sympathies and their votes to be turned 
 by any demagogue in whatever direction he pleased, 
 all the while imagining that they were free men, and 
 that they acted of their own accord. If the citizens 
 of a republic cease to be independent, if they are of a 
 suggestible nature, they are not worth their freedom, 
 and they will become the prey of unscrupulous wire- 
 pullers, or their government will soon cease to be a 
 republic. 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY OF CROWDS. 319 
 
 There is a lesson for America ! Our politicians 
 even to-day use the basest flattery. They tell us that 
 we are the greatest and most intelligent nation ; we 
 are wise and independent. Having hypnotized their 
 audience with such cheap and vile phrases, they instill 
 their suggestions into the souls of the brave and the 
 free with impunity. 
 
 Let every American citizen be wary. Whenever 
 a stump- speaker begins to flatter, be on your guard, 
 for it is almost certain that he is about to deceive you. 
 Our people should do less shouting and more thinking 
 in election campaigns, and every single individual who 
 attends a meeting should feel himself responsible 
 for the expressions of indignation or enthusiasm of 
 the whole assembly. 
 
 A republic needs independent citizens, quick in 
 comprehension, but slow in judgment, and tenacious 
 in that which they have recognized as right. Every 
 honest thinker must endeavor to counteract the sug- 
 gestibility of the masses by the proper education of 
 our people. 
 
 SENTIMENTAL ARGUMENTS. 
 
 One of the most effective methods of suggesting 
 ideas, or plans, or propositions, is the employment of 
 sentimental arguments. The results of a certain ac- 
 tion is described, and the suggester (be he orator, or 
 author, or politician, or demagogue, or preacher, or 
 teacher, or a fantastic dreamer) dwells at length upon 
 the details of his description, taking for granted that 
 these must be the natural consequences of his scheme. 
 He excites the sentiment, the sympathy, the hopes 
 and fears of his "subject." And his subject whose 
 critical powers are lulled asleep under the influence of 
 
320 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 some delightful dream, becomes an enthusiast for his 
 scheme. Being anxious about the result, he forgets to 
 examine whether the proposed scheme really leads to 
 that result; and if he really makes an attempt to ex- 
 amine the validity and soundness of the plan, he 
 has, in the meantime, become so infatuated and intox- 
 icated with the beautiful vision depicted to him, that 
 he has ceased to be impartial ; he is no longer unbiased, 
 and has become unable to examine the issue without a 
 prejudice. 
 
 Sentimental arguments are dangerous, because 
 they come to us like friends : they appear most inno- 
 cent and harmless in sheep's clothes. The fleece of a 
 sheep may hide a wolf or a real sheep, and which 
 of the two would be the worse is sometimes difficult to 
 tell. Ideas comparable to wolves make the man in 
 whose brain they dwell, appear most dangerous, but 
 those ideas that resemble the ovine species, I am in- 
 clined to regard as the greatest of all evils, for the 
 heads in which they live and for society also. 
 
 A man whose opinion is founded upon sentimental 
 arguments usually considers those fellow-mortals of his 
 who are of a different opinion as rascals, for men who 
 oppose this or that pet scheme must have, so it ap- 
 pears, a different sentiment. They seem to stand in 
 opposition to the result of the scheme, and thus they 
 must be, and are often declared to be, villainous rogues. 
 
 The fallacy of a sentimental logic is apparent to 
 every clear-minded person, and we must ' accordingly 
 be on our guard against it. Every man should make 
 it a rule for his thinking, never to form an opinion 
 on mere sentimental grounds. 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY OF CROWDS. 321 
 
 INSINUATION AND SUGGESTION. 
 
 The most insidious method of hypnotizers is what 
 we may call "suggestion by insinuation." For in- 
 stance : The hypnotizer introduces his ideas by hints 
 rather than by a direct communication. He puts a 
 question which implies the supposition of a certain fact. 
 And the unwary 'subject,' while bothering about an 
 answer, gets accustomed to the fictitious fact ; his 
 imagination is set at work to depict certain details of 
 the occurrence. Amid these details, worked out in his 
 imagination, he forgets the main thing : namely, to in- 
 vestigate whether the fact is true itself. His account 
 of the event is now based upon a fact. This fact is the 
 memory of his imagination. The idea of such an event 
 has become by insinuation a reality in his brain, he re- 
 members it plainly, and being unable to discriminate 
 between the memory of a real experience and a com- 
 mon report of an occurrence, he will, in best faith, 
 take an oath upon the truth of his statement. 
 
 How dangerous suggestibility by insinuation is, 
 our lawyers have ample opportunity to ascertain. 
 From my own experience I know of a case where, in 
 a trial for alleged murder, a Polish woman presented, 
 upon the questions proposed, her evidence against the 
 defendant in such a way that her whole testimony be- 
 came a tangle of improbable and impossible state- 
 ments. It was a dream, incidentally suggested in pre- 
 liminary examinations by questions which intimated 
 to her how it might ha.ve been. Her vivid imagination 
 made her suppositions appear to her as real happenings, 
 and in court she gave her evidence on oath. 
 
 There were questions like these. 
 
 "What time was it?" 
 
 " It was half past four in the morning." 
 
322 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 "Did you not yesterday say it was a quarter to 
 seven ?" 
 
 "No, I did not. I said it was exactly half past 
 four." 
 
 In a preliminary examination she had said it was 
 a quarter to seven, but in the meantime it had become 
 manifest, that if it had been a quarter to seven all her 
 testimony would be irrelevant. 
 
 "How do you know that it was exactly half past 
 four?" 
 
 "When I saw this man, I looked at the clock to 
 see what time it was, and the clock was exactly half 
 past four." 
 
 It was not difficult to prove that from the window 
 at which she was, it was impossible to see the spot where 
 she fancied to have seen the man against whom she 
 gave evidence. So it must have been a case of self- 
 suggestion. 
 
 The worst insinuations are those devised from per- 
 sonal malice. Some villain, for instance, writes a letter 
 to a man with the intention to throw suspicion upon 
 his character. The tone of the letter is friendly ; he 
 writes with a pretense of kindness and frankness, yet 
 among the sentences there are phrases like this : " You 
 showed some anxiety about the matter and I am glad 
 that I can be of service to you." Thus a statement 
 is introduced together with an insinuation that the per- 
 son addressed had some reason to be anxious about it. 
 Whether this is true or not, .the letter if read by 
 others, or if perhaps later on presented in court, will 
 throw suspicion upon the person addressed. 
 
 The method of insinuation is the more surreptitious, 
 the more trivial the details are that are introduced in 
 connection therewith. The details may be true, while 
 
SUGGESTIBILITY OF CROWDS. 323 
 
 the fact insinuated is perhaps absolutely false. If the 
 truth of the details can be proved, the insinuation is 
 most likely to find credit. 
 
 Villains who employ such means are liable to do 
 great harm. There is one antidote only against the 
 refined venom of such knaves, and that is independ- 
 ence of judgment. A man who is able to discriminate 
 between true facts that are proved, and fictitious facts 
 that are insinuated, will be able to see through the 
 schemes of a trickster, and take his statements for 
 exactly what they are insinuations. They are not 
 proved simply by being suggested, but require to be 
 proved ; and if they can be proved to be false they are 
 evidences of villany. 
 
 The lesson of this is that Psychology is a study too 
 much neglected ; it is indispensable for every one who 
 has to deal with people ; and who has not ? the physi- 
 cian, the clergyman, the employer of labor, the officer 
 in the army, the professor, the merchant, the banker, 
 almost every one has to deal with people, and, above 
 all, the lawyer. Self-knowledge is not sufficient to 
 make us free, it must be self-knowledge and the 
 knowledge of other people ; it must be self-knowledge 
 in the broadest sense, knowledge of the soul, of the 
 motives that work upon, and can be employed to af- 
 fect, man's sentiments. It is only knowledge that can 
 make us free ; and knowledge will make us free. And 
 because it makes us free, knowledge, and chiefly so 
 psychological knowledge, is power. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF HYPNOTISM. 
 
 THE entire mass of psychological data furnished 
 by modern researches, and especially by hypnotic in- 
 vestigations, may be divided into three groups : 
 
 (1) The normal phenomena of soul-life, which can 
 be observed in every-day life ; 
 
 (2) Abnormal phenomena of soul-life, which can be 
 reproduced under special conditions and thus admit 
 of verification by experiment; and 
 
 (3) Abnormal phenomena of soul-life observed by 
 certain individuals who are supposed, or claim, to be 
 in possession of special gifts (such as second sight and 
 telepathy). 
 
 The data of the first two classes alone can be con- 
 sidered as indubitable facts ; those of the third class 
 rest on a very weak authority, considering the in- 
 numerable illusions that can take place in individuals 
 given to the belief in the miraculous. 
 
 The psychological data of indubitable character, 
 i. e., the phenomena of every one's normal soul-life, 
 and those experiments of psychic research which ad- 
 mit of verification by experiment, we have learned, 
 exhibit a strong tendency to corroborate the monistic 
 view of psychological phenomena. Dualism indeed 
 is limited to the third class as a store-house for its 
 weapons of attack, and psychologists of a dualistic 
 bias have therefore taken pains to gather all attainable 
 
SIGNIFICANCE OF HYPNOTISM. 325 
 
 reports about telepathy and second sight as experienced 
 by certain individuals of a specially spiritual nature. 
 If dualists wish to convince the world of the truth of 
 dualism, they must derive their proofs from the data 
 of the two first classes, which are generally acknowl- 
 edged as facts by science. These, however, seem to 
 exclude a dualistic interpretation ; so strong is their 
 evidence in favor of the inseparable unity of psycho- 
 logical and physiological phenomena ! 
 
 Ideas are no disembodied ghosts created from 
 supersensible or supernatural elements, they are real 
 structures that live in our brain, possessed of a definite 
 form and produced in the nervous substance through 
 sensory impressions. In calling them ideas, we do 
 not, however, as a rule refer to their physiological 
 objectivity, which forms their bodily reality, but to 
 their spiritual subjectivity : we refer to that indescrib- 
 able phenomenon which every living being experiences 
 when he feels and thinks. The whole empire of sub- 
 jective experiences is called the ideal, while the pro- 
 cesses of motion that take place in the world of objec- 
 tive existences, are called the real.* 
 
 Dualism looks upon the real and the ideal as two 
 distinct worlds which exist independently of each 
 other. In the human body, it is conceded, they are 
 united into a wonderful harmony. The ideal inhabits 
 the real as a house ; the spirit animates the body for 
 some time, but it may leave the body, as a prisoner 
 leaves his prison, thenceforth to live as a pure spirit. 
 
 Monism looks upon the ideal and the real as two 
 
 * The word real may be used in a limited and in a more extended sense. 
 In the former sense, when strictly confined to bodily objectivity, it excludes 
 the ideal ; in the latter sense, when signifying all facts that can become objects 
 of experience, it includes the ideal also. Thoughts and feelings are ideal; 
 and yet they are realities. 
 
3 26 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 inseparable aspects of one and the same fact, they 
 are two abstractions made for different purposes and 
 abstracted from one and the same indivisible object. 
 Monism considers the world as a living actuality, 
 which naturally in an evolution from lower to higher 
 forms evolves ever higher souls, thus raising the sub- 
 jectivity of atomic life to the intellectuality of a human 
 being. 
 
 When we speak of the ideal in man, (ideal is here 
 used in the philosophical sense of the purely subjective,) 
 we must bear in mind that the ideal and the real do 
 not in actual life exclude one another. Feelings pure 
 and simple without their proper physiological conditions 
 do not exist ;. thoughts without the thinking brain-struc- 
 tures in which they take place, are impossible. We 
 might just as well speak of movement without a 
 moving body. Therefore the ideal by itself, the 
 thinking subject, abstract and absolute, is an absur- 
 dity. It does not exist. The thinking subject is al- 
 ways at the same time a bodily object of actual and 
 material reality. Not only the thinking subject upon 
 the whole, but every detail of the thinking subject's 
 feelings, his sensations and thoughts, every irritation 
 felt, every idea thought, every emotion taking place 
 in the empire of the ideal, mean at the same time a 
 special modification of nervous substance in the empire 
 of the real. The parallelism between the real and the 
 ideal is, so far as science has investigated, uncontra- 
 dicted and perfect. 
 
 The ideal therefore is a special kind of reality ; 
 and indeed it is the most important part, the most 
 real and most actual element of reality. The ideal 
 in its highest development, being the empire of feeling 
 and thinking subjectivity, is the product of organized 
 
SIGNIFICANCE OF HYPNOTISM. 327 
 
 life. The non- organized elements can be said to con- 
 tain the germs only, the mere potentiality to bring forth 
 the empire of the ideal. In the sensations and thoughts 
 of sentient creatures the different objects of reality are 
 depicted ; they are mirrored therein as images, as ideas. 
 The literal translation of the Greek word idea (eidos*) is 
 image. The ideal is the realm of representations ; and 
 the objects represented in the subjectivity of a sentient 
 being, are the objective realities of its own body and 
 of the things of the surrounding world. 
 
 The existence of the ideal gives meaning and pur- 
 pose to the world of bodily realities. Sentient beings 
 can make the objects around them subservient to their 
 needs and comforts; and man, the firstborn son of 
 nature, will have dominion over the earth in propor- 
 tion as his ideas are correct images of things and of 
 the relations among things. 
 
 The monistic view is thus corroborated through 
 those results of psychology which can be considered 
 as indubitable facts. An idea, being a bodily struc- 
 ture of nervous substance and being situated in the 
 centre of the organism, viz., the brain, must be of par- 
 amount importance, even if we consider its activity 
 as a mere physiological process. The brain is the 
 capital of the body ; it is the seat of the government, 
 whence orders are issued to, and obeyed in, all the 
 various provinces of the different organs and limbs. 
 
 Facts being as they are, can we wonder that ideas 
 of fear, of worry and anxiety produce pathological 
 conditions in the body ? 
 
 It is well known that sudden or extraordinary 
 terror may kill a person. Goethe describes in his 
 Erlking how a child dies from fright in the arms 
 of his father riding on horseback through a stormy 
 
328 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 night. The boy imagines that the Erlking is attempt- 
 ing to snatch him away and thus he becomes a prey 
 of the phantoms of his own imagination. 
 
 Similarly Gottfried Burger describes the death of 
 Leonore with masterly accuracy, as if he had studied 
 in hospitals the deliriums of fever-patients. Leonore 
 expects her betrothed home from the war, but she does 
 not find him among those who return. In despair she 
 beats her bosom and tears her hair, but in the hush 
 of night she hears him knock at the door, she sees 
 him enter, his horse is waiting and he takes her along 
 over dale and hill, over rivers and mountains far away 
 to be married in the grave. 
 
 There is an old story about a court-fool (which 
 may briefly be told without vouching for its truth). He 
 was condemned to death by the sword. The duke, 
 however, had pardoned him, but had given the order 
 not to let him know. The fool's punishment should 
 be, to go through all the terrors of execution. The 
 executioner, then, should strike the blow not with a 
 sword but with a sausage. When the fool, so the 
 story goes, received the harmless stroke, he fell, dead, 
 to the ground. He died from the fear of death.* 
 
 The physiological reality of ideas renders it neces- 
 sary that the ideas of the central soul influence the 
 unconscious activity of the peripheral soul. This is 
 especially noticeable in certain functions, for instance 
 in the movements of the digestive organs, which are 
 not under the control of the will, yet are strongly and 
 almost immediately influenced by certain states of mind 
 in one or another way. Unusual wrath poisons the 
 milk of a mother ; and great excitement so alters the 
 
 *The story is told in many different versions. 
 
SIGNIFICANCE OF HYPNOTISM. 329 
 
 secretion of saliva that the bites of infuriated dogs or 
 of other animals become extremely dangerous. 
 
 Almost all hypnotists report cases in which burns 
 and blisters have been produced by means of suggestion. 
 A certain part of the skin is touched with a harmless 
 instrument or with the finger, and after a while an in- 
 flammation appears at the very same spot, reprodu- 
 cing the exact form of the contact. This proves that 
 the trophic functions of the muscles and the skin, 
 those functions that build the wasted tissues up again, 
 and nourish them, stand in close connection with the 
 nerves and depend upon their activity. We do not 
 believe that the burn produced through suggestion is 
 a real burn ; it is the perturbation of the trophic func- 
 tion of the nerves, caused through the idea that a re- 
 action is necessary against an imaginary wound. 
 Thereby redness is produced which has the appear- 
 ance of inflammation. 
 
 The blood perspiration attributed to certain saints 
 and the appearance of the holy stigmata on their bodies 
 must likewise be explained as the results of sugges- 
 tion : they are produced through the auto-suggestion 
 of prayer and a strong concentration of the mind. 
 
 While terror, cares, and worry will have injurious 
 effects, joyous and gay ideas may in the same way act 
 as a medicine for good. The firm confidence of a pa- 
 tient in his physician, the strong hope of convalescence 
 will under otherwise favorable conditions do a great 
 deal in curing, and healing, and soothing. The men- 
 tal disposition of a patient is of great and incalcul- 
 able importance in the cure. 
 
 Man's imagination is no empty nothing ; nor is it a 
 mere psychical and purely subjective illusion. Every 
 single act of imagination is a real physiological process 
 
330 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 which can be made available to do a certain amount of 
 work. There is some truth in the methods of faith- 
 cure, yet we should be wary not to overrate the power 
 of imagination. Ideas as physiological processes and 
 in their physiological effects have a special and limited 
 province ; and we cannot expect that they should cure 
 a cancer or set aright a broken leg. 
 
 Considering the great effects often produced under 
 the spell of a properly directed imagination, several 
 physicians in France, Switzerland, and in other coun- 
 tries have proposed to use hypnotism and suggestion 
 as curative methods for all kinds of diseases. They 
 have been successful to some extent, although the ex- 
 travagant hopes that hypnotism might be a panacea 
 were by no means fulfilled. On the contrary, all the 
 results hitherto obtained, it seems, are such as might 
 also have been produced through the bringing on of 
 natural sleep. 
 
 Extravagant reports about cures effected by such 
 hypnotizers are not beyond the suspicion of self-de- 
 lusion, and cannot be accepted without reserve. Most 
 of our hypnotizers among them even some of great 
 name suffer from the same disease as their patients; 
 namely, from illusions. Many cures are effected on 
 individuals who have an imaginary disease, which dis- 
 appears under the influence of a counter-imagination. 
 In such a- case the disease as well as the cure is an hal- 
 lucination of the patient in which his physician kindly 
 shares. 
 
 There are other cases in which the patient suffers 
 from a real disease, which seems to be overcome under 
 the influence of hopeful and elevating hallucinations. 
 The cure appears to be perfect for a time ; yet there 
 
SIGNIFICANCE OF HYPNOTISM. 331 
 
 comes a relapse after a while against which no faith- 
 cure or hypnotism will avail. 
 
 Natural sleep is undoubtedly one of the strongest 
 and best curatives. Perhaps it is the very best med- 
 icine that can be employed. Hypnotism, it seems to me, 
 should be resorted to by the physician only under such 
 circumstances where natural sleep cannot be had. 
 
 The wonderful effects of natural sleep will find their 
 explanation, if we bear in mind that in the state of 
 rest together with the obliteration of consciousness 
 the trophic functions of the nerves seem to increase in 
 proportion as other activities cease. Sleep, therefore, 
 is the state of re-generation, it is the restoration of the 
 vitality expended during the period of activity. It is a 
 process of hoarding up again in the tissues of the or- 
 ganism that potential energy which affords new life 
 and fresh vigor to think and to act. 
 
THE DANGERS OF HYPNOTISM. 
 
 IN spite of the many astonishing results that have 
 been obtained through hypnotic treatment, we never- 
 theless must beware of anticipating more than it re- 
 ally can be expected to achieve. It is perhaps natu- 
 ral that the idea of rest should act soothingly upon 
 the nerves, but, still, we must not imagine that the 
 illusion that we hear well will cure deafness, or the 
 illusion that we possess excellent eyesight will remove 
 the blindness of a cataract. A correct view of the 
 nature of ideas will guard us from erroneous expecta- 
 tions of this kind, and physicians therefore will have 
 to limit the application of psychical means (and es- 
 pecially of hypnotism and suggestion) to such phys- 
 iological conditions that can directly or at least in- 
 directly be reached and influenced by psychical meth- 
 ods. Psychical cures, accordingly, must be restricted 
 in the main to nervous diseases. 
 
 We consider it as our duty on this occasion to 
 caution against the abuse of hypnotism that is fre- 
 quently practiced by half-scientific people and some- 
 times even by prominent physicians. Hypnotism, as 
 a means of cure, should be employed as little as 
 possible, and in such cases only where natural sleep 
 cannot be produced ; and even then it must be em- 
 ployed with discretion. 
 
 Dr. Luys reports several cases in which patients 
 hopelessly ill have been restored to health by the ap- 
 
THE DANGERS OF HYPNOTISM. 333 
 
 plication of hypnotism. He speaks, for example, of a 
 man who had been debilitated by insomnia. His di- 
 gestion was impaired, his walk tottering, the nervous 
 system prostrated, and his entire constitution was un- 
 dermined. He had been given up by several physi- 
 cians. Dr. Luys treated him several times in vain, 
 but finally with success. The patient improved per- 
 ceptibly, and soon was perfectly cured. To cure 
 nervous diseases that are caused by insomnia, in 
 fact, seems to me the main purpose to which hypnosis 
 can profitably be applied. 
 
 There are also reported cases of inveterate vices 
 and evil habits, (for instance dipsomania,) that are 
 said to have been completely cured by means of hyp- 
 notic suggestion. And the applicability of hypnosis 
 in certain desperate cases, when all other expedients 
 have failed, may under exceptional conditions likewise 
 be justified. 
 
 The rotating mirror invented by Dr. Luys seems 
 to be the best and least injurious means of producing 
 artificial sleep. It is an instrument with two wings 
 not unlike the automatic fly- fan, only much smaller 
 and studded with small glittering pieces of glass. The 
 wings are fixed upon a pin, which when wound up 
 sets them into a rapid revolving motion. The patient 
 being comfortably seated in an arm-chair, is requested 
 to stare at the mirror. The giddily rapid, monotonous 
 rotation by and by tires the eyes and produces a feel- 
 ing of fatigue, so that the patient is soon very likely 
 to fall asleep. 
 
 It is more than doubtful whether the anaesthesia 
 of the cataleptic condition should be employed in ope- 
 rations. Narcotics have hitherto proved by far more 
 reliable and less injurious. 
 
334 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 It does not seem advisable to employ the cataleptic 
 state in cases of childbirth, as Dr. Luys and other 
 French physicians have done. To be prepared for 
 the occasion, it is necessary that many weeks pre- 
 vious to her confinement, the woman be hypnotized 
 daily. If this were not done, the hypnosis would 
 most likely not succeed at the critical moment. But 
 this exemption from the throes of a few painful hours 
 are bought at an exorbitant price ! We have to con- 
 sider that henceforth throughout the whole life the 
 woman will remain predisposed to hypnotic states. 
 And still worse : a fatal germ of the same predisposi- 
 tion is most probably implanted in the infant born. 
 
 A predisposition to hypnotism, at all events, must 
 be regarded as one of the most dangerous kinds of 
 disease. It is an extremely serious misfortune. A pre- 
 disposition to hypnosis is a diseased, abnormal state of 
 the nerves. Individuals who either by nature or through 
 artificial methods possess a predisposition of this kind, 
 are but to a limited degree their own masters. Not 
 only the hypnotizer himself has an absolute control 
 over them, but every stranger, by skillful manipulation, 
 may influence their soul-life, and can render them ser- 
 viceable to his private ends. 
 
 It is maintained by some hypnotizers that en- 
 croachments of this sort can be prevented, by impart- 
 ing to the subject the suggestion, that he should not 
 submit to be hypnotized by any one but his own hyp- 
 notizer or physician. But, as a matter of fact, every 
 suggestion can be counteracted or modified by another 
 suggestion. An impostor might easily introduce him- 
 self as the physician's deputy, and there are a hundred 
 other means at his disposal. Once having been 
 admitted into the confidence of the subject, he 
 
THE DANGERS OF HYPNOTISM. 335 
 
 will quickly usurp the entire control over his or her 
 soul. 
 
 We certainly should regard it as a national calamity 
 if the majority of a people had acquired a predisposi- 
 tion to hypnotism. The independence of individuals 
 would be destroyed, for that trait consists in the ca- 
 pacity to resist obnoxious suggestions. It is generally 
 admitted by all psychologists that hypnotism affords an 
 easy means for criminals safely to commit their crimes 
 through unconscious middle-men as instruments of the 
 deed. The danger of hypnotism is increased by the 
 possibility of "timing" the execution of a post-hyp- 
 notic suggestion. Forel says upon the subject : 
 
 "The enormous importance of suggestion at appointed time 
 or ' a echeance ' is manifest. We are able for a definite period of 
 time to predetermine the thoughts and resolutions of hypnotized 
 subjects when the hypnotizer himself is no longer present ; in ad- 
 dition one can give to the suggestion the appearance of a free de- 
 cision of the will. One is further able to suggest to the hypnotized 
 subject the belief that the impulse did not come from the hypno- 
 tizer. Nay, with highly suggestible people we are even able suc- 
 cessfully to suggest the total amnesia of the hypnotization : ' You 
 have never been hypnotized, ' we may say ; ' if you are asked, swear 
 before God, that in all your life you have never once bsen hypno- 
 tiz.ed ; I myself have never hypnotized you. ' 
 
 " I am perfectly aware, that in this consists, perhaps, the most 
 appalling danger of hypnotism in the administration of criminal 
 justice." 
 
 The dangers to which hypnotic subjects are ex- 
 posed in the respect that they may become instruments 
 of crime in the hands of unscrupulous criminals, great 
 though they may be, are trifles compared to the 
 dangers rising from their own auto-suggestions. Hyp- 
 notic subjects cease to be able to control their own 
 ideas. Hallucinations may come to them at any 
 
336 THE SGUL OF MAN. 
 
 moment and lead them to crimes or to follies of all 
 kinds. 
 
 Dr. Luys, who, if he is partial, is rather prejudiced 
 in favor of hypnotism, says : 
 
 " Hypnotized subjects, by the very fact that they are undor 
 the influence of a quite special mental state, or even subjects that 
 are neuropathic by nature, are apt to present this strange phenom- 
 enon, that through the automatic action of the cells of their brains 
 they will produce truly autogenetic suggestions, just as insane 
 persons are seen to create fixed and spontaneous ideas. At one time 
 they will tell you, that they have met with some extraordinary ex- 
 perience, have received certain strange proposals, are acquainted 
 with persons of high social standing ; or else, they will accuse some 
 acquaintance of their circle of having spread abroad slander, of 
 robbing, or of seeking to wrong them. Still, all these denuncia- 
 tions are made with a mien of absolute sincerity, and if one did not 
 know such subjects from their peculiar psychological point of view, 
 one might really be tempted to lend faith to their statements. It is 
 precisely mental habits of this kind that frequently cause the 
 society of hypnotic subjects to prove so irksome and well-nigh 
 unendurable in the wards of public hospitals. 
 
 " This likewise constitutes a point of contact of hypnotism 
 with insanity, because these cases of suggestions very frequently 
 are produced either by sensorial illusions or by persistent halluci- 
 nations, and from this point of view hypnotic subjects present 
 the exact state of mind of persons laboring under the hallucina- 
 tion of persecution." 
 
 The dangers arising from auto-suggestion and self- 
 hypnotization are confirmed almost by every one who 
 is familiar with the subject. Professor Lombroso,* 
 of Turin, reports among many other instances the 
 following case. 
 
 "An artillery officer, who was hypnotized at a public seance, 
 afterwards became almost insane. From time to time he had 
 attacks of spontaneous hypnotism at the sight of any shining ob- 
 ject. He would follow a carriage lamp in the street, as though 
 
 * -See Frederik Bjornstrom, Hypnotism, Humboldt Library, No. 113, p. 123. 
 
THE DANGERS OE HYPNOTISM. 337 
 
 spell-bound. One evening, if his fellow-officer had not saved hirr, 
 he would have been crushed to death by going directly towards an 
 approaching carriage. A violent hysterical crisis followed this 
 and the man had to take to his bed." 
 
 The whole purpose of a liberal education consists 
 in the freedom, independence, and self-reliance of the 
 individual. Accordingly, we can observe that in coun- 
 tries where men and women are raised with a love of 
 liberty and independence there are comparatively few 
 symptoms of hypnotism. In countries in which children 
 are brought up to become mere instruments in the 
 hands of priests, the inclination to hypnosis is com- 
 paratively strong. Let us not increase the natural 
 tendency of weak characters to allow themselves to be 
 guided blindly ; and therefore let us be careful to avoid 
 the dangers of hypnotism. 
 
 The growing generation should learn, neither to 
 shut out new ideas nor indiscriminately to accept 
 them, but to receive them with critique and to arrange 
 them in proper order in the storehouse of general 
 knowledge. This is necessary above all in a repub- 
 lic in which every citizen is called upon to take part 
 in the government of the state, in the election of the 
 authorities, and in the framing of the laws. 
 
PLEASURE AND PAIN. 
 
 KANT says somewhere, " Pleasure is the feeling of 
 the furtherance, pain of the hinderance of life," and 
 expresses in this sentence an opinion that has been in 
 vogue among philosophers since time immemorial. 
 But it is strange that neither Kant nor any other thinker 
 has greatly troubled himself with a careful investiga- 
 tion of facts. The statement seemed so obvious, so 
 direct and convincing, that it received almost universal 
 admittance in philosophy ; and was even employed as 
 a corner-stone for ethics by Epicurus, Bentham, Spen- 
 cer, Hceffding, and others. 
 
 Alexander Bain in his excellent work "Mind and 
 Body," quotes Kant's definition and develops his own 
 as follows (p. 59): 
 
 " States of Pleasure are connected with an increase, states of 
 Pain with an abatement, of some or all of the vital functions." 
 
 Bain adds : 
 
 "There are, however, a few startling exceptions. For ex- 
 ample: Cold may be painful and yet wholesome, as in the cold 
 bath, and under the keen bracing air. But this exception, on 
 closer view, confirms the general rule, while rendering its applica- 
 tion more definite. Cold undoubtedly depresses, for a time, one 
 very sensitive organ, the skin, perhaps also the digestive organs ; 
 while, in moderate degree (that is, the degree constituting whole- 
 someness) it exalts, through the capillary circulation, the lungs, the 
 keart, the muscles, and the nerves ; and the contrast teaches us 
 that as far as immediate pleasure is concerned, we lose more by de- 
 
PLEASURE AND PAIN. 339 
 
 pressing the functions of the skin and the stomach, than we gain 
 by increasing the power of the heart, the lungs, the muscles, or 
 even the nerves themselves. 
 
 "Another very remarkable exception is the painlessness of 
 many diseases, together with the occasional absence of all pain, and 
 even the presence of great comfort, in the sick bed and in the final 
 decay of life 
 
 "The connexion of pleasure with vitality, and of pain with 
 feebleness or loss of function, does not apply to all organs alike ; 
 some are comparatively insensitive, their degeneracy and decay 
 seem unaccompanied with feeling ; while in others the smallest 
 functional derangement is productive of pain. Muscular weakness 
 does not give pain, unless we are compelled to efforts beyond our 
 strength ; also the nervous system may be enfeebled as regards 
 thinking power without producing discomfort, provided we are 
 allowed perfect repose 
 
 " Intellectual feebleness, decay of memory, and incapability 
 of thought, are not painful in themselves 
 
 " We often see patients in the last stage of consumption, still 
 entertaining the most sanguine prospects of recovery ; a proof that, 
 instead of being mentally depressed, they are in the opposite or 
 joyous condition " 
 
 There is no sufficient explanation for all these ex- 
 ceptions to Bain's law identifying pleasure with a 
 growth and pain with a decay of the vital functions. 
 Bain says that sometimes an acute smart will tempo- 
 rarily raise the energies ; it will have the effect of a 
 stimulus. But this explains only a few instances, such 
 as a cold bath or the influence, of keen, bracing air, 
 and these instances may be used as examples to show 
 that the cold bath in itself can by repeated indul- 
 gence and through its wholesome effects become a 
 pleasure. First it becomes a want and then the satis- 
 faction of this want itself, even without taking into 
 consideration the wholesome after-effect, is felt as 
 pleasurable. 
 
 Mr. Bain does not, and I think he cannot, from his 
 
340 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 standpoint, remove the innumerable difficulties aris- 
 ing from exceptions irreconcilable with his law. The 
 degeneration of several functions, the decrease of mus- 
 cular and nervous activity, and even the dissolution 
 by consumption are by no means always painful pro- 
 cesses, and yet if anything they are decay, they are 
 abatement. Certainly, the law is wrong, it is not de- 
 rived from facts. It is an a-priori statement to which 
 facts have to be fashioned in order to agree. 
 
 Pain is apparently due to a disturbance. We have 
 for instance a hollow tooth ; the nerve is exposed and 
 the slightest irritation causes most violent pain. There 
 is neither growth nor decay in the nerve, yet there is 
 suffering. The decay of the osseous parts took place 
 without pain. Now we go to the dentist and, supposing 
 that he is unable to save the nerve, he at once removes 
 all pain by the aid of a drop of cocaine, or carbolic 
 acid, or any other drug which causes the nerve to die. 
 Here is decay without pain. When infants are teeth- 
 ing, there is growth combined with pain. Whatever 
 the tooth may feel we do not know ; yet its growth 
 causes disturbances in the surrounding parts which 
 are perceived as pains. It is a well-known fact that 
 in children growth is often accompanied with pain 
 which is felt in arms, legs, or other limbs.* 
 
 * Copulation, which is supposed to be a pleasure, is not growth, but a com- 
 bination merely. Modern researches by Weismann and others have shown 
 that it is a natural want rising from the insufficiency of an individual to pro- 
 pagate itself. Its physiological condition seems to be the divided existence 
 of the reproductive germ, so that each sex posesses but one part. The con- 
 tinuance and regeneration of life depend upon the activity of the germ. Thus 
 the restoration of the germ becomes a necessity and want of self-preservation. 
 The natural desire for fecundation (not the other sexual instincts, which 
 through heredity became strongly connected therewith) is an expression of 
 the yearning for immortal life. 
 
 If. growth were a pleasure, then child-bearing in itself, apart from its 
 results should be the height of earthly enjoyment which perhaps should be 
 
PLEASURE AND PAIN. 341 
 
 In a state of decay the vital functions are abating. 
 The lower the vital functions become, the less pleasur- 
 able excitement, but at the same time the less pain 
 will be possible. Decay far from being identical with 
 pain is the annihilation of the possibility of pain. 
 
 Pain is caused through perturbation. The more 
 violent perturbations are, the stronger the pain will 
 be. There are wholesome and disastrous disturb- 
 ances. Among the wholesome disturbances we count 
 not only those which arise from growth, but also 
 such as arouse our energies and indirectly promote 
 our general welfare, disastrous are such as lead direct- 
 ly or indirectly to destruction. 
 
 Decay is often accompanied with great suffering, 
 but the suffering is apparently not due to the decay it- 
 self, but to the struggle of the animal vitality in order 
 to overcome the decay. The agonies of death are not 
 caused by death but by life's resistance to death. 
 The agony is stronger in youths exuberant with vigor- 
 ous health, than in old men whose vitality is low. 
 
 Pleasure and pain are generally conceived like 
 heat and cold,* as correlatives; and in some respects 
 they are counterparts ; they are the two extreme poles 
 of our scul-life. But they are unlike heat and cold in 
 so far as the one is not the same as the other differing 
 only in degree. 
 
 Pleasure is wrongly considered as active, pain as 
 passive. Prof. Bain attempts to show that pleasurable 
 emotions display "the general erection of the body," 
 while pain "leads to the relaxation of all the extensor 
 
 eclipsed by birth only birth being growth beyond the limits of an individual. 
 Child-bearing in itself, the growth of a new being, is neither pleasurable nor 
 painful. It often becomes painful by the many disturbances which it is but too 
 liable to cause. 
 
 * Bain says: Yet pleasure and pain are as opposite as heat and cold. 
 
342 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 muscles" which, he says, are by far the largest. Yet, 
 the flexors of the hand which contract in a fit of 
 anguish, so as to ball the fist, are much stronger mus- 
 cles than the extensors, and even if that were not the 
 case, Prof. Bain must and does concede, that there is 
 " still an active prompting under pain." He cannot, 
 as he suggests, confine this active prompting to a 
 relaxation of the flexor- muscles alone, for the cry of in- 
 tense pain is to a great extent executed by the same 
 muscles as the shouts of gay hilarity. Pain as well 
 as pleasure are states of consciousness that accompany 
 the reactions of the nervous system to certain irrita- 
 tions. Pain, it appears, is always caused through a 
 disturbance, (whether this disturbance is good or bad 
 is here a secondary consideration,) while pleasure is 
 the gratification of a want. 
 
 There is much confusion shown concerning the 
 nature of pleasure and pain, if the one is called an 
 "accession of vital force," the other " a loss or depri- 
 vation of energy."* The different pleasures may be 
 classed partly as the accessions, partly as a spending 
 of vital force. Digestion is an accession, bodily ex- 
 ertion a deprivation of energy. Both are classed to- 
 gether as the most common pleasures of life. They 
 are pleasures in so far as both are satisfactions of 
 wants. A youth, who is glowing with vitality, has a 
 natural want of bodily exertion, and a hungry stomach 
 has a want of food. Take away the want and all that 
 can be called pleasure in the acts disappears. It 
 ceases to be a gratification. 
 
 It is generally acknowledged that there are pains 
 which are wholesome, and pleasures which are disas- 
 trous. This does not prove that decay may sometimes 
 
 * Sir Charles Bell uses these expressions. 
 
PLEASURE AND PAIN. 343 
 
 be wholesome and growth fatal; yet it proves that 
 some disturbances are good and conductive to our 
 prosperity, while, on the other hand, some gratifica- 
 tions of certain wants will be found to be injurious. 
 
 The gratification of natural wants cannot, upon 
 the whole, be considered as injurious; although an 
 occasional lack of their gratification will often under 
 favorable circumstances lead to progress. Wants 
 that are not at all or insufficiently satisfied, prompt the 
 inventor to invent, and the courageous to discover 
 new paths that will in the end make possible their 
 gratification. In the evolution of mankind and in the 
 history of civilization this factor, perhaps, has been 
 too little recognized. Ungratified wants are always 
 disturbances in human life, and the more natural a 
 want is, the more disagreeably will the disturbance 
 make itself felt. Every living being has the natural 
 tendency to gratify its wants, and pleasure may be de- 
 fined as the feeling that naturally accompanies the 
 gratification of wants. 
 
 Now we must bear in mind that among the many 
 wants of living beings there are not only lower and 
 higher kinds of natural, but also unnatural, wants. The 
 intensity of a pleasure does not depend upon its being 
 of a higher or lower kind, but exclusively upon the 
 intensity of the want. 
 
 The lower natural wants are called necessities of 
 life, and it is noticeable that they cease to be intense 
 pleasures, the more their satisfaction becomes ensured. 
 The energy necessary for their gratification can thus be 
 employed for the higher emotional and intellectual 
 wants. Unnatural wants are the result of unnatural 
 habits, but we can" observe that their gratification is 
 
344 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 just in the same measure as in other cases pleasurable 
 to the degree of intensity of the want. 
 
 It would be impossible to draw an exact line be- 
 tween natural and unnatural wants, although there 
 are some about which there can be no doubt where to 
 classify them. The truth is that there is a large 
 group of indifferent habits which are not injurious. 
 They may be considered by one who is accustomed to 
 them, as natural, by another, who has never practiced 
 them, as ridiculously unnatural. Thus the smoking of 
 a cigar, the drinking of a glass of wine, may be to one 
 an intense pleasure, while to the other it appears as 
 an abomination. The performance of certain actions 
 may be an enjoyment for one and a veritable torture 
 to another. There are men who love their trades or 
 their professions, others who abhor them. There are 
 women who delight in attending to their household- 
 affairs, while others loathe the work. 
 
 Pleasure and pain are unavoidable so long as life 
 means growth. Every progress causes disturbances 
 which must be readjusted. A state of perfect adap- 
 tation, of which Mr. Spencer speaks, is a dream which 
 is not realizable, unless we dam life's great stream in 
 order to convert it into a stagnant lake. But if we 
 succeeded in that, we would be sure to produce worse 
 evils and more disagreeable pains than all the happi- 
 ness would be worth, which could possibly result from 
 such a state of perfect adaptation. 
 
 Professor Bain says: " Inasmuch as we follow 
 pleasure and avoid pain, if pleasure were injurious 
 and pain wholesome, we should soon incur entire 
 shipwreck of our vitality," but he finds it necessary to 
 add, "as we often partially do, through certain tend- 
 encies that are exceptional to the general law." Do 
 
PLEASURE AND PAIN. 345 
 
 not, indeed, most shipwrecks in life occur because 
 people indeliberately follow pleasure and avoid pain? 
 And is it not for that reason that we have to preach 
 morals ? Some ethical philosophers attempt to base 
 their morals upon the pursuit of pleasure and the 
 avoidance of pain; but they start from the wrong 
 supposition that pleasure is a furtherance, and pain 
 an abatement of life. If pleasure and pain cannot be 
 considered as a furtherance and an abatement of life, 
 they can still less be identified with morality and im- 
 morality. It is true that the performance of moral 
 acts should become a want of our nature, and in that 
 case they would naturally become pleasures to us. 
 But, so long as they are not yet natural wants, we 
 must, nevertheless, follow the commands of right con- 
 duct. We certainly shall have a very questionable 
 guide, should we follow our feeling of pleasure and pain 
 in determining what is right conduct. Yet we should 
 unhesitatingly obey the behests of our conscience,* 
 without regard to pleasure and pain. 
 
 * I here hesitated whether to use the word " conscience " or " reason." I 
 preferred the more popular expression " conscience," although it is so often 
 employed by modern theologians in a mystical sense. The Apostle Paul cer- 
 tainly uses the word in the sense of " a reasoning upon right or wrong con- 
 duct." Speaking of the conscience of the heathen he characterises it as 
 "their thoughts, 2,oyiOfJ.ot, accusing and excusing one another." 
 
THE THREE PHASES OF REFLEX-MOTIONS. 
 
 THE entire field of the activity of psychic life, which 
 under normal circumstances can be connected with, or, 
 as it were, illuminated by, consciousness, shows three 
 different phases or stages, which like the steps of a 
 ladder rise one above the other. 
 
 The first and lowest stage is that of simple reflex- 
 motions, which are executed without necessarily enter- 
 ing into consciousness. Such reflex-motions are many 
 kinds of muscular movements, the unconscious facial 
 expression of emotions, winking, sneezing, coughing, 
 sucking, chewing, swallowing, and vomiting. These re- 
 flex-motions may, or may not, be accompanied with 
 consciousness. If we do not direct our attention to them, 
 they, or at least some of them, may take place uncon- 
 sciously upon the occurrence of the irritation by which 
 they are provoked, and against which they must be 
 considered as reactions. Most of these reflex- motions, 
 also, we can bring about at will. In that case the mere 
 thought of them may serve as an irritation to provoke 
 the reflex-motion. The mere idea of the act becomes, 
 as it were, an inner irritant that produces the reflex- 
 motion. 
 
 The simple reflex-motions constitute what we com- 
 monly call 'reflex- motions in the strictest sense of the 
 word.' Agreeably to their nature, they stand, as a 
 rule, below the threshold of consciousness. Without 
 
REFLEX MOTIONS. 347 
 
 thinking of it, without being constantly aware or con- 
 scious of it, our heart beats, we breathe and wink, and 
 execute most complicated movements. In the adjoined 
 diagram we represent a simple reflex-motion, thus : 
 
 DIAGRAM OF SIMPLE REFLEX-MOTION. 
 
 G. Ganglion. e 
 
 IMN. Innervation of the 
 
 SL Sensory Impression. / motor nerve - 
 
 7SA r . Irritation of the I \ MM Muscular motion, 
 
 sensory nerve. 
 
 The centres of the simple reflex-motions, physiol- 
 ogy teaches, are situated in the bulb (niedulla ob- 
 l on gat a}. 
 
 We shall now speak of the second phase. 
 
 Everybody, perhaps, is from his own experience 
 acquainted with some phenomenon in human soul-life 
 that might be designated as ' a direct and simple 
 reflex-motion of conscious will.' This occurs in those 
 unusual or extraordinary situations in which prompt 
 action is demanded, no time being leftior deliberation ; 
 for example, in the emergency of a sudden danger. 
 We assume, for instance, a father comes home from 
 work and finds the tenement-house in which he lives, 
 on fire. From a window he hears his child crying for 
 help. Without stopping to think whether he can, or 
 whether he cannot, save the life of his boy, whether 
 the staircase might be wrapped in flames, or whether 
 he can reach the place whence the cry proceeds, he 
 rushes into the house at the risk of his own life. 
 
 This is a reflex-action that passes through con- 
 sciousness, but the impulse to action is. so overwhelm- 
 ingly strong that it gives no time or opportunity for 
 any deliberation. 
 
348 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Irritations coming from sensory impressions, if 
 connected with consciousness, in so far as they give 
 information through some of the senses, are called 
 sensations. An innervation of motory nerves or the 
 initiative process of motions by muscular contraction, 
 if connected with consciousness, is called will. That 
 which causes a motor innervation accompanied with 
 consciousness (an act of will), is called motive. A 
 motive may be a sensation, it may be also the memory 
 of, or a thought abstracted from, former sensations. 
 The word "motive " conveys the proper idea of being 
 that which sets in motion. The process of reflex- 
 motion, if connected with consciousness, is called re- 
 flex-action, or simply action. 
 
 An act that is a simple reflex- motion of conscious 
 will may be a direct action without deliberation, be- 
 cause of the strength and urgency of the motive which 
 allows no time for reflection ; such is the case above de 
 scribed. But it may arise from a lack of intelligence 
 also. Observers of animals know many instances 
 where even higher-organized beings, such as apes 
 and dogs, can speedily be provoked to actions, if only 
 the proper motives are applied. 
 
 ./Esop tells in one of his fables of a monkey- show 
 in which a spectator spoiled the performance by throw- 
 ing nuts among the actors. The sight of the nuts so 
 strongly engaged the monkeys' attention as to exclude 
 for the moment all other motives; they forgot their 
 training and even their master's whip, and fell into a 
 scramble over the nuts. Similarly Reynard the Fox, 
 in the animal fable, entices Bruin the Bear with a pro- 
 spect of honey, and Puss the Cat with the suggestion 
 of mousing, to inconsiderate actions. 
 
REFLEX MOTIONS. 
 
 349 
 
 DIAGRAM OF SIMPLE REFLEX ACTION, BEING A REFLEX-MOTION, 
 CONNECTED WITH CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 SI. Sensory impression. 
 
 ISN. Irritation of the sensory nerve. 
 
 S. Sensation. 
 
 ISN. 
 
 IMN. Innervation of the motor nerve. 
 s/d OMM MM. Muscular motion. 
 
 In the life of human society simple reflex-actions 
 are rare, though they may frequently be observed 
 among children, savages, idiots, and the so-called 
 quick-tempered people. In the mind of an educated 
 man every psychical irritation that acts as a motive 
 upon the will, before passing into act, has to run 
 through a shorter or longer process of deliberation. 
 
 DIAGRAM SHOWING AN ACT OF DELIBERATION. 
 
 SI. Sensory impression. 
 
 ISN. Irritation of sensory nerve. 
 
 S. Sensation. 
 
 P. Perception starting a chain of deliberation by 
 
 passing through the memories M f, M*, 
 
 M3, and ending in 
 PE. The plan of execution. 
 
 ISN" ----- 
 
 IMN. Innervation of the motor nerve. 
 MM. Muscular motion. 
 
 The memories of former sensations are, as it were, 
 stored up in the mind ; they make up the stock of that 
 which goes by the name of experience. In so far as 
 they are arranged in a systematic order, they are called 
 intelligence. The richer the storehouse of memories 
 is, and the better they are arranged, or associated. 
 
350 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the quicker will the old experiences be at hand to in- 
 terfere with, and perhaps to modify, reflex-actions. 
 The higher the intelligence of a creature is, the less 
 prone will it be to simple reflex-actions, and the 
 stronger will be the power of inhibition, so as to make 
 a process of deliberation possible, before the motive 
 passes into act. A reflex-action of this kind may be 
 called an " act of deliberation." 
 
 These three phases of reflex-motions represent three 
 stages of a more and more complicated activity of the 
 soul. The first considered by itself has its place below 
 the threshold of consciousness, although it may be 
 brought within its sphere : it may become conscious. 
 The second reaches to and stands upon the threshold 
 of consciousness; the third fills out the whole sphere 
 of consciousness and appears in orderly connection 
 with all the memories of experience. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Nature in all things proceeds with great economy. 
 This is particularly manifest in the function of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 We may compare consciousness to a light, which 
 illuminates certain activities of the human soul, but 
 leaves others to be performed in the gloom of uncon- 
 sciousness. Consciousness itself has not the power to 
 accomplish a single one of all the activities which it 
 illuminates. It only accompanies them and sheds 
 light upon them, bearing now upon the one and now 
 upon the other object of attention, as they severally 
 appear at the focal point of our central soul-life. If 
 but the innervation of the respective fibres be accom- 
 plished, the motions of our bodies and even the 
 thoughts of our brains will take place just as well 
 without consciousness as with consciousness ; not 
 
REFLEX MOTIONS. 351 
 
 otherwise than a machine, that is set a-going, will work 
 in darkness as well as in light. 
 
 If all the activities that are performed within our 
 body, or at least all those that take place in the highest 
 and most unstable living substance the nerves and the 
 brain were without exception connected with con- 
 sciousness, what a prodigious chaos would our soul in 
 that case exhibit ! In the general turmoil we should not 
 find a moment for deliberation. In the midst of so much 
 excitement and work, no leisure would be afforded for 
 the selection of that which at the time is most im- 
 portant and most needed. The new and extraordinary 
 could not be discriminated from the mass of ordinary 
 events that follow the settled course of routine. The 
 restriction of consciousness to a narrow field is, there- 
 fore, a most excellent arrangement. And this arrange- 
 ment has not the slightest disadvantage, because the 
 limitation is not at all stable ; on the contrary, con- 
 sciousness can be quickly shifted about, it can at a 
 moment's notice be attached to any kind of psychic 
 activity, as occasion may demand. 
 
 When a child is learning to play on the piano, how 
 laboriously must he learn to distinguish every note and 
 every key, and to associate the notes with the keys 
 that belong to them ! His consciousness must again 
 and again be concentrated upon the task with the most 
 intense atten-tion, and in spite of all his attention, how 
 awkwardly do his hands blunder over the key-board ! 
 Compare his play to that of an accomplished player. 
 How swiftly and with what unconscious ease the vir- 
 tuoso's fingers glide across the piano ! The same 
 difference of conscious awkwardness and unconscious 
 adroitness is noticeable in all arts and in all sciences. 
 What enormous exertions of conscious thought the 
 
352 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 schoolboy makes in his calculations, while the- mathe- 
 matician operates with his formulas with unconscious 
 certainty, like a machinist whose hand even in the dark 
 is able to find and to use every screw and every lever 
 of his engine. 
 
 When the mental activity of our present conscious- 
 ness sinks down into unconsciousness, all the attention 
 of the mind that is available can be directed upon 
 new difficulties, and thus our thoughts gain sufficient 
 freedom for better and higher, or more needed, work. 
 When mental processes in the sphere of intelligence 
 have become automatic, we call them acts of uncon- 
 scious intelligence. 
 
 Unconscious intelligence works more rapidly than 
 conscious intelligence, because its mechanism is sim- 
 pler than where the same mental acts are accompanied 
 with consciousness. And unconscious intelligence often 
 works with more exactness than conscious intelligence, 
 because, machine like, it works with mechanical accu- 
 racy. In former times, so long as thinking was identified 
 with consciousness, unconscious thought was the 
 greatest stumbling-block of psychology. Since psy- 
 chologists have learned to distinguish between the ac- 
 tivity of intelligence and that of consciousness, they 
 find no difficulty in the fact that unconscious thought is 
 possible. 
 
 Lest the ideas ' unconscious thought ' and ' uncon- 
 scious ' feeling be misunderstood, a few words may be 
 added on the meaning of the word "consciousness." 
 Consciousness is that intensified and concentrated feel- 
 ing which constitutes the character of the central soul. 
 Its condition is a coordination of all the feelings into 
 a system grouping them, as it were, all together within 
 the circumference of a circle, in the centre of which is 
 
REFLEX MOTIONS. 353 
 
 located the present object of attention. There are 
 many feelings that are too far from the centre to be singly 
 discriminated ; they form one indistinct mass of feeling 
 concerning the general state of the whole organism. 
 The German physiologists most appropriately call this 
 indistinct mass of innumerable feelings " Gemein-ge- 
 fuhl"; the English language, wanting a good Saxon ex- 
 pression, had to resort to the Greek word cosncesthesis. 
 We shall as an equivalent term introduce the expression 
 "general feeling" which appears to be more congenial 
 to the spirit of the English language and less heavy 
 than the foreign- sounding ' ' ccenasthesis. " * 
 
 Unconscious thought and unconscious feeling are 
 by no means altogether bare of feeling ; yet they are 
 called unconscious, because, and in so far as these 
 thoughts and feelings are not discriminated in their 
 individuality, they disappear among the whole mass of 
 the general feeling and cannot therefore be remem- 
 bered in their individuality. The concentrated feeling 
 of the central soul naturally can recall only those 
 thoughts and feelings in their clearness and distinct- 
 ness which appeared with clearness and distinctness, 
 or in other words those which appeared in the centre 
 of its system of coordination. 
 
 * The proper English translation for "cosnaesthesis," (K.CIVO, common, and 
 Ola&rjGlf, feeling,) the German " Gemein-gefuhl," would perhaps have been 
 "common sense," or common feeling. The word "common," however, has 
 acquired a specified meaning through the Scotch school of so-called " common- 
 sense philosophers." 
 
THE NATURE OF THOUGHT. 
 
 BY thought is generally understood mind-activity ; 
 it comprehends all kinds of operations that take place 
 among representative feelings. The prime condition 
 of thought, accordingly, is a certain stock of repre- 
 sentative feelings. In the adult man these represen- 
 tative feelings are either concrete sense-images or ab- 
 stract symbols, ideas, and generalizations.* 
 
 Philologists usually confine the term thought to 
 operations with abstract symbols exclusively ; and they 
 are (or at least may be) fully justified in so doing 
 with reference to their special object of investigation. 
 The most important symbols of abstract representa- 
 tions are word-symbols or names. Thus it is obvious 
 that the evolution of thought in the narrower sense of 
 the term is inseparable from the development of lan- 
 guage. Thought in the narrow sense of the word is 
 identical with abstract thought ; as such it is the ex- 
 clusive property of man. Thought as we understand 
 the term here, is not limited to the reasoning of 
 speaking beings. It is the common property of all 
 feeling beings, whose feelings have acquired repre- 
 sentative value. Accordingly, thought is not possible 
 without feeling. We think in that we are aware of 
 certain states of ourselves, in short because we feel. 
 
 * Compare the second chapter of this work, in which "The Origin of 
 Mind " is discussed. 
 
THE NATURE OF THOUGHT. 355 
 
 The interaction among feelings, the comparisons, com- 
 binations, separations, anticipations, and the calling 
 into play of representative feelings, the function of 
 exciting them into activity from a state of rest, con- 
 stitute the nature of thought. 
 
 Thought is not feeling, and feeling is not thought. 
 But there is no thought without feeling. Any sense- 
 impression can stimulate thought into action; and the 
 action that takes place among feelings is that which we 
 understand by thought. For instance, I hear an indis- 
 tinct ring of the bell, and at once a series of thoughts 
 is evoked. The sensation just received is compared 
 with the memories of other rings ; an awakened mem r 
 ory is a feeling also. The sound is plainly distin- 
 guished from the ring of the dinner bell ; it is recog- 
 nized as that of the door bell, and at once other repre- 
 sentative memories are called forth. With the ring 
 of the door bell is closely associated the idea that 
 somebody must be at the door ; and this idea elicits 
 several long strings of anticipations : It may be the 
 postman with letters \ from whom? How many possi- 
 bilities crowd in ! It may be a welcome friend or it 
 may be an agent who will intrusively offer his goods. 
 
 All these operations are called thinking.* It is a 
 matter of course that man's thought is to a great 
 extent an operation with names ; but it need not be, 
 and indeed it is not always. Very often it is a pro- 
 
 * The limitation of the term thought to abstract thought, was made by 
 Ludwig Noire, with the avowed purpose of elucidating the origin of reason 
 viz: the ability of man to form concepts. The animal brain is in possession 
 of images only, and man forms concepts (this was Noire's answer) solely 
 with the help of language. Human reason, he said, is language. Without 
 language man would have no reason. Reason and language are inseparable, 
 like the soul of an organism and the organized body of a soul. Having an- 
 other purpose in view, we do not use the term thought in the limited sense, 
 but understand by it all mind-operation. 
 
356 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 cess that calls into play sense-images only. Yet it is 
 characteristic of man that he can put his thought into 
 language, and not until he has done so can he be said 
 to have attained to a full clearness of his thoughts. 
 
 The ultimate purpose of thought is a proper reac- 
 tion upon irritations, and this is attained, i) by render- 
 ing distinct all the sense-materials offered, and 2) by 
 calling to assistance all the memories pertinent to the 
 present situation. Thus thought is a process of clarify- 
 ing or articulating dim feelings in order to adjust reflex 
 motions to special circumstances, in other words in order 
 to change subsequently reflex motions into actions. 
 
 The process of thought as an interaction among 
 feelings takes place in the very lowest animals. Uni- 
 cellular micro-organisms which hunt for food have 
 certain dim feelings that represent, be it ever so 
 vaguely, the means of satisfying their hunger. Re- 
 peated experience makes these feelings more distinct 
 and changes them in a further evolution, first into 
 clear sensations, and then, in man, into abstract con- 
 cepts, generalizations, and other abstractions.* 
 
 Under the term feeling we comprehend all states 
 of awareness, not only sensations, but also abstract 
 ideas. Sensations are one kind and abstract ideas 
 another kind of feeling. 
 
 Sensation is the product of two factors : the feeling 
 subject and the sensed object. Thus every sensation 
 of a feeling being has a foreign element in it. Abstract 
 ideas seem to be free of this foreign element, and ab- 
 stract thought appears as a purely internal act. Yet 
 
 * Generalizations are, as a rule, not distinguished from other abstrac- 
 tions. Yet there are very important abstractions which are by no means 
 generalizations. There are abstract conceptions which are quite special and 
 concrete ; for instance, the path of a comet represents an individual case. It 
 is an abstract idea, but not a generalization. 
 
THE NATURE OF THOUGHT. 557 
 
 it only seems to be free from this foreign element, for 
 in truth, it is not free. It is free in so far only as the 
 foreign element has in the meantime become our own. 
 Abstract ideas have been derived from the memories 
 of sensations, and these memories are part of our- 
 selves. Yet they were imported into the thinking 
 subject by former sensations. That internal kind of 
 feeling which we call abstract ideas, would be impos- 
 sible without former sensations and their memories. 
 
 Sensation possesses a distinctness that is lacking in 
 dim feelings and still more so in mere sense-impres- 
 sions which have not as yet acquired meaning. The 
 distinctness of sensations is due to their being a repeti- 
 tion of a feeling perceived before. The oftener a feel- 
 ing of the same kind is repeated, the greater will be 
 its distinctness. Its form will appear more-and more 
 regular. Thus distinctness is the recognition of regu- 
 larity, i. e., of conformity to law. Similarly the articu- 
 lation of speech and song are due to the regularity, 
 and the recognition of regularity in the production of 
 sound-waves. We may, accordingly, consider sensa- 
 tion as the articulated feeling of specific sense-impres- 
 sions. 
 
 Those physiological acts which are perceived sub- 
 jectively as states of consciousness, or feelings (viz., 
 sensations and abstract thoughts), we shall now con- 
 sider in their mechanical connection with other phys- 
 iological processes, especially their irritations and the 
 reflex-motions that ensue. We shall in this connection 
 when treating of feelings, i. e., of sensations and ideas, 
 leave out of sight the subjective state of awareness, 
 and consider them as objective processes, that take 
 place while a feeling is perceived or an idea is thought. 
 
358 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 THE MECHANISM OF THOUGHT. 
 
 Concerning the process of feeling in general and 
 of articulate feeling in particular, we may state the 
 following facts : 
 
 1. Feeling (i. e., that physiological process which 
 subjectively is perceived as feeling), is caused by irri- 
 tation. 
 
 2. Feeling tends to motion. 
 
 Feeling is a process that takes place between irri- 
 tation and its reaction. Irritations may be either inter- 
 nal or external. External irritations are impressions 
 produced by contact with the surrounding world ; by 
 the rays of light upon the eye, by waves of sound 
 upon the ear, etc. Internal irritations are such as 
 hunger and thirst. 
 
 Living substance, being irritable and endowed with 
 memory, adapts itself to such conditions of contact 
 with surrounding objects as are often repeated, and 
 thus a regularity is produced, which by and by leads 
 to distinctness. Living matter in its lowest forms is 
 irritable throughout. Very soon, however, irritability 
 is specialized as feeling in the sensory nerve-cells and 
 eventually mounts to a clearness which is called con- 
 sciousness. The highest form of feeling is attained 
 when it appears in distinctly articulated speech. The 
 operations of these articulated feelings are rational or 
 human thought. 
 
 What is stated for feeling in general holds good 
 for thought also : 
 
 1. The process of thinking is directly or indirectly 
 caused by irritations; and 
 
 2. It ultimately results in motion. 
 
 The tendency of thought to pass into motion is called 
 
THE NATURE OP THOUGHT. 359 
 
 will. Will, as all tendency to motion, must have a 
 direction or an aim. The aim of will is called purpose. 
 The motion produced by will is called action. 
 
 Thought need not directly originate from irrita- 
 tions, it may proceed from the memories of former irri- 
 tations. Irritations certainly remain its ultimate foun- 
 dation, and the substance of all thought throughout 
 exists only because irritations have been previously 
 received. The most abstract thought, our conception 
 of form, and with it all purely formal sciences, even 
 erroneous thought, the shadowy chimeras of the mind, 
 have all ultimately originated from feeling of some 
 kind. We arrived there through some process of ab- 
 straction. In this respect the old dictum of the 
 schoolmen remains true forever : Nihil est in intel- 
 lectu quod non antea fuerit in sensu. Nothing is in 
 our mind which has not been before in our senses. 
 Certain feelings correspond to certain contacts. They 
 thus become representatives first of the contacts, then 
 of the objects themselves which cause the contact. 
 Thus living creatures acquire a possibility of depict- 
 ing their surroundings in their own substance. They 
 can in their feelings map out the world in which they 
 live. The different feelings become so many images 
 of the objects to which they correspond. Not only 
 the things of the outside world, in their effects upon 
 ourselves, but also the movements of our members in 
 their actions upon things external are portrayed in the 
 feeling nerve-substance. Both together furnish all 
 the data for our knowledge of the world. 
 
 Cognition, accordingly, may be characterized as a 
 process of orientation in the world. The macrocosm 
 outside is depicted in the microcosm within, and the 
 
360 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 more correctly the latter represents the former, the 
 nearer it is to truth. 
 
 Our next statement derived from these considera- 
 tions we formulate as follows : Feeling, and more so 
 
 3. Thinking is a representative process. 
 
 The process of orientation is of greatest importance 
 to living beings, because it facilitates adaptation to 
 their surroundings. They can pre-arrange certain adap- 
 tations in their thoughts ; they can make plans of their 
 movements before the execution of the movements 
 takes place. 
 
 4. The mechanism of thinking consists in combining, 
 in separating, and re-combining the representative im- 
 ages or symbols. 
 
 Thinking is an inner experimentation with images 
 and symbols of things, to the end of deciding, how 
 an intended action (the reaction against the irritation) 
 shall take place. Thus it becomes a great saving in 
 the economy of animal activity. Instead of trying all 
 possibilities in reality, until one is found that is best 
 suited to the occasion, the images of things, obtained 
 through the feelings of previous experiences, are as- 
 sociated and disassociated within the brain, until there 
 results the desired combination, which thereupon is 
 executed. Then the purpose of thinking is attained ; 
 it ends in a reflex action against irritations. 
 
 Students, as a rule, are confined to their study. 
 They represent the brain of a community and may be 
 considered as the specialized organ of thought in man- 
 kind. It is natural, perhaps, that students and thinkers 
 should often imagine that thinking exists for its own 
 sake. Their opinion is repeated by those who may be 
 called the dilettanti in the art of thought, and thus it 
 
THE NATURE OF THOUGHT. 361 
 
 happens to be a fashionable dogma of the time. Never- 
 theless it is an error. 
 
 5 . The purpose of thinking is adaptation to surround- 
 ing conditions. 
 
 Thought, you may object, sometimes does not end 
 in action, but in the suppression of action. Inhibition, 
 however, is an action also. Thought should always end 
 in the regulation or adjustment of our behavior toward 
 our surroundings. If it does not, it is not the right kind 
 of thought. Thought for its own sake is a disease. If 
 muscles contract neither for a special purpose nor 
 for the general purpose of exercise, we call the con- 
 traction a cramp. Thought for its own sake is a 
 spasm of the brain. 
 
 Abstract thought is a still greater economy than 
 thinking in concrete images, because it introduces 
 the principle of economy into thought itself.* Images 
 of single objects are substituted by more comprehen- 
 sive symbols which find their best expressions in 
 words, and one word-symbol represents many images. 
 In this manner the representative process is enhanced. 
 Words become representations of representations, and 
 each further advance of human intelligence, as Ernst 
 Mach has pointed out, will be characterized in some 
 way as an "Economy of Thought." 
 
 Higher thinking, (thinking, na^ <*;oj7/F,) as we find 
 it in the human brain, is called abstract thought, be- 
 cause it is conditioned by abstraction. Particular 
 qualities that are common to several things, are men- 
 tally severed from the images of these things, and then 
 combined into a new unity by a special symbol. The 
 most natural symbols being words (in so far as they 
 
 * Economy of thought does not mean that we should think less but that 
 thought should become more effective. By economy we are enabled with the 
 same amount of thought to accomplish more work. 
 
362 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 are most easily communicated), language is the means 
 by which abstract thought becomes possible. Noire 
 said: "Man thinks because he speaks,"/. <?., man 
 thinks "in abstracts," because within his mind notions 
 of abstract qualities by means of word-symbols have 
 been combined into unities. 
 
 Still, in a different sense the inverse is also true : 
 "Man speaks because he thinks." In this case think- 
 ing is employed in its broader sense. Man has learned 
 to speak because his mind was filled with images, of 
 which a great many similar ones naturally tended to 
 combine. In the broader sense of the word all animals 
 may be said to think ; in the strict sense of the term, 
 man alone thinks. 
 
THE RISE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 WE CALL consciousness intensified feeling. Con- 
 sciousness can only have arisen from feeling through 
 an inhibition of reflex motion. It is, undoubtedly, the 
 failure of the purpose of reflex motion to which living 
 substance owes its higher development. If all reflex 
 motions that react against irritations, had always an- 
 swered their purpose, there never would have been a 
 need of consciousness and the animal world would lead 
 an unconscious, purely instinctive life not very much 
 different from that of plants. Animal life would only 
 consist in the performance of simple reflex motions. 
 
 Let us suppose that the reflex motion of coughing 
 in a patient were attended with pain, by which the ir- 
 ritation in the throat would rather be aggravated than 
 relieved, would not, as a rule, the patient seek to re- 
 strain the cough, and would he not, by and by, attain 
 a point where the reflex-ganglion would resist the irri- 
 tation and suppress the reflex-motion even in sleep ? 
 
 Dr. Mcebius,* professor of zoology at the university 
 of Kiel, relates an interesting experiment performed by 
 Mr. Amtsberg, of Stralsund. 
 
 ' ' A pike, who swallowed all small fishes which were put into 
 his aquarium, was separated from them by a pane of glass, so that, 
 whenever he tried to pounce on them, he struck his gills against 
 
 * Schriften des Naturwissenshaftlichen Vereins von Schleswig-Holstein ; 
 quoted from Prof. Max Muller: "The Science of Thought," Vol. I, p. 10. 
 
364 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 the glass, and sometimes so violently that he remained lying on 
 his back, like dead. He recovered, however, and repeated his on- 
 slaughts, till they became rarer and rarer, and at last, after three 
 months, ceased altogether. After having been in solitary con- 
 finement for six months, the pane of glass was removed from the 
 aquarium, so that the pike could again roam about freely among 
 the other fishes. He at once swam towards them, but he never 
 touched any one of them, but always halted at a respectful dis- 
 tance of about an inch, and was satisfied to share with the rest the 
 meat that was thrown into the aquarium. He had therefore been 
 trained so as not to attack the other fishes which he knew as in- 
 habitants of the same tank. As soon, however, as a strange fish 
 was thrown into the aquarium, the pike in nowise respected him, 
 but swallowed him at once. After he had done this forty times, 
 all the time respecting the old companions of his imprisonment, he 
 had to be removed from the aquarium on account of his large size. 
 " The training of this pike was not, therefore, based on judg- 
 ment ; it consisted only in the establishment of a certain direction 
 of will, in consequence of uniformly recurrent sensuous impres- 
 sions. The merciful treatment of the fishes which were familiar 
 to him, or, as some would say, which he knew, shows only that 
 the pike acted without reflection. Their view provoked in him, 
 no doubt, the natural desire to swallow them, but it evoked at the 
 same time the recollection of the pain he had suffered on their ac- 
 count, and the sad impression that it was impossible to reach the 
 prey which he so much desired. These impressions acquired a 
 greater power than his voracious instinct, and repressed it, at least 
 for a time. The same sensuous impression, proceeding from the 
 same fishes, was always in his soul the beginning of the same 
 series of psychic acts. He could not help repeating this series, 
 like a machine, but like a machine with a soul, which has this ad- 
 vantage over mechanical machines, that it can adapt its work to 
 unforeseen circumstances, while a mechanical machine cannot. 
 The pane of glass was to the organism of the pike one of these un- 
 foreseen circumstances." 
 
 Deliberation before action and with it all higher 
 kind of thought becomes possible only through an 
 inhibition of reflex action. The tendency to act still 
 continues, even if action itself is inhibited. The desire 
 
THE RISE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 365 
 
 to do a certain thing and the memory of pain or dis- 
 appointment that inhibits it, come into conflict and a 
 struggle between them results, that will either lead to 
 the entire suppression of the intended act or it will 
 bring about an adaptation to circumstances. If the 
 latter takes place, the tendency to act has gained the 
 upper hand over inhibition, nevertheless the resultant 
 is different from what it would have been as a simple 
 reflex motion without having passed through the pro- 
 cess of deliberation. It is modified and most likely 
 better suited to the circumstances. 
 
 One of the most important tasks of education is that 
 of accustoming youth to self-discipline. The will need 
 not and must not be suppressed or even weakened, 
 but there must be developed a still stronger power of 
 control which, if it be necessary, will inhibit impulses 
 of the will or, at least, prevent them from passing into 
 action before they have been submitted to a thorough 
 critical examination. This scrutiny consists in com- 
 paring all the resultant consequences of the intended 
 act with the memories of similar' cases, be they of one's 
 own experience or implanted in the mind through in- 
 formation from other sources. 
 
 Men, in whom this process takes place, are not so 
 easily decoyed into actions, which later on they must 
 repent. Such a self-control makes it possible, that not 
 only the desire which at the time excites us will be 
 decisive, but all the other ideas, the memories and im- 
 ages that live in our mind, will also have an influence 
 upon the final decision. If impulses are thus controlled, 
 we behold, as it were, an orderly meeting, called to 
 order by a presiding officer, who by turns grants the 
 word to each and all present, who might have anything 
 to say concerning the matter under discussion. The 
 
366 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 meeting consists of our own ideas, our hopes, our 
 wishes, our longings, and aspirations, while the presid- 
 ing officer is represented by our power of self-control. 
 The mind of a man who is exclusively swayed by the 
 influence of the moment, who easily yields to the pres- 
 ent impulse, resembles the gathering of a mob where 
 the most impetuous talker is always the leader. The 
 sudden impulses of the will are then executed before 
 the other side of the question can be heard. Such a 
 man is limited to the situation of the moment ; he be- 
 comes a sport of circumstances and a slave to his own 
 passions. Moral freedom, that higher condition in 
 which all ideas of our mind enjoy equal rights and 
 perfect liberty, is possible only by an inhibition of 
 action through self -control.* 
 
 The inhibition of a reflex motion does not annihilate 
 the suppressed irritation ; it makes it even more in- 
 tense. A suppressed sneeze thus can provoke a very 
 disagreeable sensation. In certain circles, where eti- 
 quette banishes sneezing as a breach of manners, people 
 have discovered a means of suppressing the irritation 
 by the aid of a counter-irritation. They press the 
 bridge of the nose between the eyes, and by this sim- 
 ple method they free themselves from the tickling ir- 
 ritation that causes sneezing. 
 
 This will do for the suppression of a sneeze, but 
 it is a different matter when the irritation appears in 
 the form of hunger, which, if not satisfied, will keep 
 increasing. It will again and again start a pro- 
 cess of deliberation and consider every circumstance 
 that may be turned to advantage. Hence the proverb 
 says, that hunger sharpens the wit. 
 
 * For the treatment of the problem of Free will, see "Fundamental Prob- 
 lems, 'Mp. 191, et seqq. and pp. 389-397 of this book. 
 
THE RISE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 367 
 
 If the necessities of life cannot directly be satisfied, 
 they must be indirectly. If their end is not im- 
 mediately attainable, means must be invented, which 
 on a longer, yet on a better and safer, way will after all 
 accomplish the end. And the means that had to be 
 inserted between a will and its end cu: purpose, made 
 thinking necessary. Deliberation was wanted in order 
 to introduce the means to the end, and thus it is want 
 that produced in living creatures the development 
 and further perfectionment of thought. 
 
 The strong impulse of self-preservation, and the 
 impossibility of directly satisfying this craving, com- 
 pel organized substance to rise from the lower state of 
 a dim feeling to that of clear consciousness. Want is 
 an inner irritation that can produce the most terrible 
 pain and bring man to the verge of despair. Like the 
 Sphinx of CEdippus, it cruelly sacrifices innumerable 
 beings and thus sternly demands the solution of prob- 
 lems that will and must be solved under penalty of 
 painful perdition. Thus guides the fear of death to a 
 higher stage of life. But it guides only the courageous 
 thinker, the CEdippus who by the power of thought is 
 the victor in the struggle for existence. The faculty 
 of thinking, and with it the clearness of conscious 
 thought, has been forced upon us. 
 
 We learn from these facts that the philosophy of 
 Deism which prevailed among liberals of the eight- 
 eenth century and is still in vogue to-day is an erron- 
 eous notion of God. The divinity that shapes our 
 ends, the all-life that manifests itself in nature, is of a 
 different kind than the deists imagined* The deists 
 regarded God as an all loving, benevolent father, 
 whose purpose was the happiness of his creatures; 
 God's good intentions, however, were too often frus- 
 
368 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 trated through the malevolence and ignorance of men. 
 In contrast to this view, it must be admitted, that 
 the old orthodox conception of God is far more correct. 
 The God of the Bible is free from the philanthropic 
 sentimentality of the eighteenth century, and agrees 
 better with positive facts. The God of the Old Testa- 
 ment is a stern master, who through servitude guides to 
 freedom, and after visitations dispenses his blessings. 
 
 It must strongly be doubted, whether men amidst 
 mere enjoyments, living in a state of constant happi- 
 ness, would ever advance. Man received into his 
 household certain animals, as sheep and oxen, and 
 took good care of them. Their lot must now appear as 
 more desirable than that of their previous state of free- 
 dom ; they are unacquainted with the hard struggle for 
 existence, and upon their verdant pastures they have 
 no evil foreboding of their imminent death. And even 
 death itself, if they are destined for meat, is inflicted 
 in the least painful manner. 
 
 If anywhere among living creatures there has been 
 realized the ideal picture of undisturbed happiness; 
 and of a pure enjoyment of life, it certainly is to be 
 found among the herds on our cattle-farms. Yet, at 
 what a price ! While the wild sheep and the wild bull 
 are eminently distinguished from other animals by 
 their intelligence, domestic sheep and oxen under the 
 care of man have to such an extent become obtuse, 
 that their very names have strikingly become the sym- 
 bols of irredeemable stupidity. 
 
 The real God, who rules supreme in the evolution 
 of cosmic life, is free from all sentimentality. He may 
 certainly appear cruel in comparison with the ideal 
 of a fatherly and philanthropic grandsire. He rather 
 resembles a stern father, who does not, in a weak 
 
THE RISE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 369 
 
 good-naturedness spoil his children, but educates them 
 now with severity, now with kindness, in order to 
 develop their powers. The history of evolution proves 
 that he does not intend to bring up faint-hearted, sen- 
 timental children of happiness ; he wants his sons to be 
 intellectually and physically self-reliant, reared in the 
 bracing atmosphere of freedom. 
 
THE LIMITATIONS OF THE SENSES. 
 
 ONE of the strongest arguments in favor of agnosti- 
 cism is based upon the same principle as that upon 
 which positivism stands. We recognize that the ulti- 
 mate data of experience and the basis of all knowl- 
 edge are sensations. Sensations naturally depend 
 upon the character of the senses ; and the senses of 
 man indeed those of every possible living being are 
 adapted according to circumstances to special sensa- 
 tions only. "Now it is evident," the agnostic de- 
 clares, "that our knowledge is limited to those natu- 
 ral processes which can affect our senses ; yet it 
 is precluded from all the rest. That which cannot af- 
 fect our senses will forever remain unknown to us. 
 It is unknowable. " 
 
 The fallacy of this syllogism is apparent and can 
 be pointed out by the mere statement of innumerable 
 discoveries concerning such natural processes as do 
 not affect our senses. The truth is that man's knowl- 
 edge is not at all limited to his own direct sensations. 
 By the power of his mind through reflection he can, 
 and he constantly does, transcend that narrow sphere, 
 and he gathers new material for his experience through 
 indirect observations. 
 
 The senses are affected indirectly, if a thing is per- 
 ceived by its effects upon other things. We lack for 
 instance an organ to perceive the chemical rays of 
 
LIMITATIONS OF THE SENSES. 371 
 
 light. They have no perceptible effect upon our eye. 
 Nevertheless we can indirectly be affected by them 
 when we observe their effects upon the photographer's 
 sensitive plate. Thus we bring" a process that does 
 not affect our senses within their range through 
 indirect observation. 
 
 There are innumerable examples of a similar kind, 
 and the assertion that a certain thing, this or that nat- 
 ural phenomenon, is unknowable has by the progress 
 of science again and again been refuted. 
 
 Let me cite one instance only from the later his- 
 tory of science. Auguste Comte who, under the 
 inappropriate name of positivism, some time before 
 the invention of the word agnosticism, propounded 
 and defended the agnostic idea of the Unknowable, 
 declared that certain things must necessarily remain 
 forever hidden from the knowledge of man, and he 
 selected as an illustration that we could never know the 
 chemical composition of the stars. Comte's assertion 
 appeared very plausible ; the limitation of our knowl- 
 edge in that line seemed to be beyond the shadow of 
 a doubt. For there is no possibility of a chemist's 
 ever_getting a piece of, or taking a trip to, Sirius or to 
 any other one of the stars. And yet such is the 
 interconnection of all processes in the universe, that 
 means were discovered to state most positively of 
 what materials the stars consist. It was a strange 
 irony of fate that while Comte was publishing his as- 
 sertion of the agnostic view, two German scholars 
 were analyzing the rays of the sun and the stars by a 
 new method called spectrum analysis, which in ex- 
 actitude rather surpasses the cruder method of an 
 analysis in the crucible. It is true that our chemists 
 cannot journey to the stars, but the light of the stars 
 
372 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 travels to us and gives us information concerning the 
 substances of which they consist. 
 
 There is nothing in the world which does not pro- 
 duce some effect upon something. Imagine that a 
 certain something existed that did not in any way 
 whatever make its existence manifest could it be 
 said to exist ? I think not. The existence of a thing 
 and its manifestations are identical. The existence of 
 a thing, be it ever so insignificant, is real only by 
 manifesting its existence through certain effects. The 
 quality of producing effects is its reality. 
 
 We may fairly suppose that there are many things 
 in the world which have never as yet either directly 
 or indirectly affected us in a manner to make their 
 reality known to us. Yet all things in the world be- 
 ing interconnected, there is always the possibility that 
 their effects can somehow be brought to bear upon 
 our faculty of observation. Whatever exists is in so 
 far as it is real, knowable. There are certain things 
 which from a certain standpoint are unknowable, as 
 objects may from a certain point of view become in- 
 visible. A tree behind a house may be invisible to 
 to me but it is not invisible in itself. The Copernican 
 conception of the solar system may be incomprehensi- 
 ble to a savage, yet it is not incomprehensible per se. 
 Incomprehensibility is not a quality of things, not a 
 peculiar feature of all or of certain natural processes, 
 it does not attach to, it is not a quality of, the reality 
 of objects. 
 
 If things or natural processes appear to us as in- 
 comprehensible, the fault is not theirs but ours. If 
 the whole world is incomprehensible to us, it is no 
 proof that the world possesses the quality of being un- 
 knowable, but because we lack the quality of compre- 
 
LIMITATIONS OF THE SENSES. 373 
 
 bending it; we ourselves in that case, are wanting in 
 strength to formulate a unitary conception of all the 
 natural phenomena which come within the reach 
 of our observation. 
 
 Sensations are the effects of surrounding objects 
 upon a sentient being. Sensations are the ultimate 
 basis of all knowledge ; they are the data of expe- 
 rience. 
 
 The duty of the scientist is to describe the facts of 
 natural processes in such a way as to show their reg- 
 ularity ; and the duty of the philosopher is to arrange 
 all knowledge into one harmonious system which shall 
 be a unitary conception of the world. Man must 
 have a conception of the world not only because it be- 
 hooves him as a thinking being to have such a con- 
 ception, and because the demands of his mind have to 
 be satisfied, but also because he is in want of a foun- 
 dation for his conduct in life. Brutes follow their im- 
 pulses, but man is or ought to be a moral being ; 
 he can regulate his actions according to certain max- 
 ims ; and the maxims of individuals as well as of 
 nations depend upon, they are derived from, their re- 
 spective conceptions of the world. The various phi- 
 losophies of al-1 times and peoples find a practical ex- 
 pression in their ethics. 
 
THE BASIS OF A POSITIVE PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 THE main error of metaphysicism is the vicious 
 habit of metaphysical philosophers to start with postu- 
 lates. They take a very broad abstract idea, such as 
 the "Absolute," or "Being," or "Deity," or "God," 
 or "the Infinite," and consider it an actual reality. 
 Upon this abstract idea they build with more or less 
 ability and boldness a complete system of other ab- 
 stract ideas, and when it is finished they call it a phi- 
 losophy. As a matter of course every philosopher 
 builds a philosophy of his own. Why should he not ? 
 The building-material of castles-of-air is inexpensive 
 extremely inexpensive ! 
 
 Many sensible people have turned their backs upon 
 philosophy because they have discovered the hollow- 
 ness of purely abstract reasoning, which is to no prac- 
 tical purpose in real life. Yet there is another view of 
 philosophy, which in contradistinction, to metaphysi- 
 cism we call positivism. 
 
 Positive philosophy* rejects all kinds of postulates 
 and starts from the positive data of experience. The 
 data of experience are the several states of our con- 
 sciousness. The elements of our states of conscious- 
 ness are sensory impressions. A sensory impression 
 fully realized in consciousness is a sensation. Sensa- 
 tions become percepts; many percepts of the same 
 
 *For the difference between Comte's positivism and that here proposed 
 see the author's "Fundamental Problems," p. 173 and p. 75, note. 
 
POSITIVE PHILOSOPHY. 375 
 
 kind become concepts. Thus all the objects of our 
 surroundings are mirrored in their relation toward us, 
 and among themselves in the living substance of our 
 brain. From the concepts of things abstractions are 
 made; and by the help of our abstract thoughts we can 
 recognize the finer relations that interconnect the phe- 
 nomena of nature ; we can trace the laws that govern 
 the changes of their forms. 
 
 Abstract thought is the instrument of science which 
 opens our eye to a deeper comprehension of the facts 
 of nature. The relations that interconnect the phe- 
 nomena of nature, and the laws that govern the changes 
 of their forms, are not material things ; they are not 
 concrete objects like tables and chairs, yet they are 
 nevertheless realities, they are facts and as such they 
 are of great moment. The form of a thing is the most 
 important part of it. The form of a watch is that which 
 makes it a watch. The metal of which it is wrought 
 is another and, truly, an indispensable, part, yet the 
 metal is only the material of which the watch con- 
 sists. * Similarly justice is an abstract idea. It desig- 
 nates certain relations among men that are of highest 
 importance. Thus justice is a reality in life, and if 
 there were np justice in our law courts, it would still 
 be a most powerful reality, though it existed merely 
 as an ideal in our hearts. And so the relations among 
 things, as well as persons, as in the instance given of 
 justice, are realities, although we know that they are 
 not materialities. 
 
 * There is no mystery in the changes and in the new creations of form. 
 We may say that the watch existed potentially even before it was invented ; 
 thus the organized life of organisms existed potentially in the non-organized 
 substances before their combination. Yet there is no necessity, as Mr. Wake 
 suggests in the essay, "God in Evolution," (Open Court p. 1997) for resorting to 
 the supposition of a divine personality who created and preconceived the 
 origin of organized life upon earth. 
 
376 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 The meaning of positive philosophy is, that it re- 
 quires every idea, every concept, every abstract thought 
 to be legitimatized. If ideas have not originated from 
 the data of experience, if there is no reality correspond- 
 ing to them, they have no right to exist ; and we are 
 consequently entitled to treat them as mere illusions. 
 
 One great advantage of the positive method is that 
 we can never forget, while adhering to it, the origin of 
 abstract ideas. Existence, Cosmical Being, the Infin- 
 itude, Gravitation, Natural Laws, Virtue, God, etc., 
 are abstracts ; they are symbols for certain generaliza- 
 tions and qualities of, or relations among, concrete 
 things. Considered as abstracts, they are invaluable 
 possessions of our mind ; considered as concrete things, 
 they lead to self-contradictions. 
 
 Metaphysical philosophers are often awe- stricken 
 at their inability to explain their possession of ab- 
 stract ideas, and think they have come by them 
 through divine inspiration. There are not a few who 
 expect to find in reality some concrete thing that is 
 infinite* ; they enquire for the gravitating force behind 
 the falling stone ; and when, in their search, they get 
 beyond their depth, the problem is declared insolv- 
 able. Facts may be as clear as a mountain-brook ; they 
 step into the brook, make its waters muddy, and then 
 declare that it can never be clarified. It is painful to 
 read, for instance, Mr. Spencer's expositions on mo- 
 tion, time, and space. He confounds the issues of his 
 disquisition, and when he* arrives at the conclusion 
 "all is unknowable," "all is inscrutable," he seems 
 not to be aware of the fact, that this result is the re- 
 flection of his own confusion. 
 
 * The Problem of Infinitude is discussed in "Fundamental Problems," 
 p. 169, et seqq. 
 
POSITIVE PHILOSOPHY. 377 
 
 We can not consider as data of experience every 
 assertion made by a visionary dreamer. We must sus- 
 pect all assertions of so-called facts that stand in con- 
 tradiction to other facts. The data of experience are 
 such facts only that under the same conditions can be 
 ascertained by every one, and can be re-ascertained 
 and verified by experiment. 
 
 Positive philosophy seems to start with a poor 
 capital ; yet its foundation is solid, and in former pub- 
 lications* the author of this book has endeavored to 
 develop some of the spiritual treasures which it yields. 
 We found that neither religion, nor art, nor science, 
 lost aught of their dignity by being deprived of their 
 metaphysical tinsel crowns, which were wrongly deemed 
 their most valuable ornaments. 
 
 It is commonly supposed that from the positive 
 view all ideals disappear, that all higher and spiritual 
 life vanishes. This is not so, and it has been our 
 earnest endeavor to show that such concepts as God 
 and Soul, Morality, Freedom, Responsibility, and Im- 
 mortality, are deepened in their meaning. In so far as 
 they are recognized as realities, they grow immensely 
 in importance. In positive philosophy ethics finds for 
 the first time a scientific basis. 
 
 Positivism is that view which is to supersede the 
 idealism as well as the materialism of former ages ; for 
 it contains that which is true in both, avoiding their 
 common errors. Positivism is the boldest and most 
 radical philosophy that has ever been propounded, yet 
 at the same time it is the only practical philosophy. 
 From the cloud-land of metaphysics it turns our minds 
 
 * " Fundamental Problems, the Method of Philosophy as a Systematic 
 Arrangement of Knowledge." Chicago, 1889. The Open Court Pub. Co. 
 
 "The Idea of God." (A Pamphlet.) Second Edition. Chicago, 1889. 
 The Open Court Pub. Co. 
 
378 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 toward the duties of real life. It is based on facts ; 
 and it is a systematic arrangement of facts. The pur- 
 pose of philosophy will be found in its being a guide 
 for man's conduct in life ; it becomes the basis of ethics 
 and is thus again applied to facts. 
 
 Positive philosophy recognizes no revelation, no 
 intuition, no mysticism, no agnosticism ; it deals with 
 facts and with facts only. On facts it builds its ideals ; 
 and its religion rests upon a scientific basis. 
 
 Metaphysicism is a disease of philosophy, and it is 
 indeed a fatal disease, for it leads straightway into the 
 realm of the mystic Unknowable where all philosophy 
 is at an end. 
 
 When a metaphysical philosopher descends from 
 the cloud-land of metaphysics toward earth in order to 
 apply his postulates to the realities of life, he becomes 
 entangled into innumerable contradictions wherever 
 he appears with his metaphysical principles. But a 
 metaphysical philosopher is never dismayed. As soon 
 as the public gets accustomed to the strange names 
 of his metaphysical principles, he calls them philo- 
 sophical truths and declares them to be absolute. 
 From their disagreement with the facts of reality he 
 concludes that they are unknowable. They are like 
 God whom no one can see and live. People then bow 
 down in silent reverence and our philosopher returns 
 to the aerial heights, where he disappears glorified in 
 the celestial fog of mysticism. 
 
 Metaphysicism is often decked out with many facts 
 of the natural sciences. We must, however, be severe 
 in drawing the color-line sharply. The various meta- 
 physical systems may be different in style and gran- 
 deur, they may be different in name, and the borrowed 
 plumage of natural science may be more or less brill- 
 
POSITIVE PHILOSOPHY. 379 
 
 iant, but in their principle one is exactly like the other ; 
 they are built upon the foundation of mere abstrac- 
 tions to which no reality corresponds and they end as 
 a natural consequence in contradictions which are not 
 so much concealed as masked under the pretense of 
 profundity. The credulous multitude is told that they 
 have got into problems so deep, that they are insolv- 
 able. The contradictions of such systems, then, are 
 openly paraded as the Unknowable, the Incomprehen- 
 sible, the Inscrutable, the Inexplicable, or even the 
 Mysterious and the Occult. 
 
 It is the rock of positive facts on which the proud 
 galleys of metaphysicism strike before they sink into 
 the realm of the Unfathomable. The ship that there 
 founders, is irredeemably wrecked. 
 
THE REACTION AGAINST MATERIALISM. 
 
 How DOES it happen that in our days, among large 
 classes, not only in America but all over the world, 
 there has set in a tendency to Spiritualism which man- 
 ifests itself in many ways? A crude belief in spirits 
 and spiritual manifestations exists ; mediums infest the 
 country, -who communicate with the departed and im- 
 pose upon the credulous in many ways. New creeds 
 are preached, such as Christian Science and so-called 
 Metaphysics. Faith-cure is practiced, and among the 
 societies for psychical research scattered throughout 
 the world there are some that vie with each other in 
 the publication of incredible statements about telepathy 
 and wonderful tales of second sight. 
 
 This movement may be called a reaction against 
 materialism. Mankind, it seems, is growing tired of 
 the crude materialistic philosophy that came to them 
 in the name of science, and a reaction is taking place 
 which, according to the education of the different peo- 
 ple concerned, assumes the shape of a more or less crude 
 superstition. It is noticeable that the reaction is 
 strongest among the unchurched, among liberals and 
 so-called freethinkers ; it is less marked among the 
 adherents of the old creeds, the members of churches 
 and religious congregations. 
 
 Science is not, as is so often claimed, materialistic ; 
 yet to the unscientific, to the laymen, who are not 
 
RE A CTION A GST MA TERIALISM. 38 1 
 
 thoroughly versed in its elementary truths, science 
 naturally enough appears materialistic. The science 
 that is transplanted from the laboratory or the study 
 into the streets, rapidly ceases to be science. There 
 are very few savants who take the trouble to be pop- 
 ular. Most of them confine their publications to men of 
 their own class, and it is an exception that now and 
 then a scientist addresses the whole of civilized man- 
 kind, and speaks or writes in a style that can be un- 
 derstood by business people and workingmen. The 
 duty of popularizing, to a great extent, thus devolves 
 upon men who have not grasped the whole truth of 
 scientific discoveries, and who look at them from the 
 outside only. They inform themselves about the 
 rigid formulas, the exact statements of laws by which 
 we can predict the slightest details of the movements 
 of molecules and atoms. Perhaps they are also able to 
 explain these formulas, and point out the mechanisms 
 of action discovered through scientific investigation. 
 Yet the spirit of science escapes them, they overlook 
 the spiritual that pervades the mechanism. This it is 
 that evoked the just sarcasm of Goethe, who says in 
 Faust : 
 
 " He who would study organic existence 
 First drives out the soul with rigid persistence, 
 Then the parts in his hands he may hold and class, 
 But the spiritual link is lost, alas ! 
 Encheiresin naturee this chemistry names, 
 Nor knows how herself she banters and blames." 
 
 By materialism I understand that view of the world 
 which explains everything from matter, and takes for 
 granted that material existence is the only reality. 
 Materialism overlooks the importance of the spiritual 
 and does not consider it as a reality worth while troub- 
 ling about. Spirit is, so materialists claim, an occa- 
 
382 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 sional function of matter only, the origin of which is 
 not yet explained, yet it is certain that its existence is 
 very fleeting. 
 
 Aprcs nous le deluge ! was the motto of the French 
 materialists of the eighteenth century. "We need not 
 trouble," they thought, " about our fate after death, 
 for death is a finality ; death ends all. Therefore, let 
 us enjoy the present, let us eat and drink, for to-mor- 
 row we shall be no more. And if a deluge is to sweep 
 over our graves, let the deluge come." We need not 
 here repeat historical facts ; they are too well known. 
 This view of things induced the classes in power to give 
 themselves up exclusively to the enjoyment of life, 
 and to oppress their fellow-citizens in order to attain 
 the means for their wasteful pleasures. The deluge 
 came indeed as a natural consequence and swept away 
 with merciless justice the guilty, the frivolous, and the 
 foolish, and together with the guilty the innocent also. 
 
 We shall not dwell here on the mistakes that prac- 
 tical materialism makes when as an ethical theory its 
 doctrines are applied to real life. We shall limit our- 
 selves to a consideration of its theoretical mistakes 
 only. There are plenty honest materialists who do 
 not see at all the consequences to which their doctrines 
 naturally lead, and it would be unfair to make them per- 
 sonally answerable for results, and to charge them with 
 having wilfully poisoned the public mind. There are 
 very few materialistic philosophers who are to be stigma- 
 tized as frivolous or immoral ; on the contrary, most of 
 them are indubitably honest men, whohave devoted their 
 lives to the search for truth and who speak out boldly 
 that which they regard as truth. They should not be 
 blamed for that ; in that they should be encouraged, 
 for it is only by boldly speaking out that which we be- 
 
RE A CTION A &ST MA TERIALISM. 383 
 
 lieve to be the truth, that truth can be discovered. Nor 
 should other thinkers who are of a contrary opinion 
 doubt their honesty or ever make insinuations respect- 
 ing their personal character, simply on the ground that 
 their doctrines might in their application lead in the 
 end to immoral practices and thus undermine public 
 welfare. The only remedy against errors is to point 
 out errors without personal malice or imputation, and 
 it is this that we shall try to do in the case of mate- 
 rialism. 
 
 Matter is an abstract, made in the same way as all 
 other abstracts. Abstraction is a mental process. We 
 abstract (we take away) in our thoughts from a num- 
 ber of things certain properties which perhaps in reality 
 are inseparably connected with other properties ; but 
 in our thoughts we exclude all the other properties. 
 We need not explain here the advantage of this method, 
 which is undeniable, for abstract thought is the con- 
 dition of all exact discriminations, and science would 
 be impossible without it. Matter is generally defined 
 as "anything which can affect one or more of our five 
 senses." 
 
 It is understood that all other properties, such as 
 spirit, are excluded from the term matter. There are 
 two properties which in reality are always inseparably 
 connected with material things, yet in the term " mat- 
 ter" they are not included ; viz., (i) motion, and (2) 
 form. If I speak of the matter of an object, I limit my 
 attention to the bodily particles of which it consists 
 and take no notice of their forms or of the relations that 
 obtain among the particles, or of their motions. It 
 is their quantity in mass, without reference to any one 
 of their many other qualities. I cannot in reality sep- 
 arate matter from all form or from all motion. I can 
 
384 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 perhaps impart to a piece of matter more or less mo- 
 tion, I can destroy its present form. But it is impos- 
 sible to take away every motion and every form. There 
 is no such a thing in reality that would be matter alone : 
 abstract matter, matter void of all motion and 
 without any shape or form. A stone may be in a 
 state of relative rest ; for instance, it lies quietly on the 
 ground. Yet it moves with the earth through the space 
 of the solar system with an average speed of nineteen 
 miles per second. There is relative rest, yet there is 
 no absolute rest, and there is matter without regular 
 form, yet there is no matter without any form what- 
 ever. 
 
 Materialism contains one great truth ; and it is this 
 truth that gave materialism its strength and its 
 prominence. Materialism rose in opposition to su- 
 pernaturalism. Certainty, materialism went too far 
 when it tried to explain everything from matter, when 
 it identified matter with reality ; yet it stands on solid 
 ground when it maintains that every reality is mate- 
 rial. There are no pure forms : the forms of reality are 
 forms of matter. There are no mere motions : real 
 motions are changes of place among material particles. 
 Yet matter is only one aspect of reality; matter does not 
 cover all and the whole of reality. Besides the mate- 
 rial there is the formal, and there is the life displayed 
 in the spontaneous motion of all things. Materialism is 
 right as opposed to idealism, when idealism claims 
 that abstract forms are entities by themselves. Plato 
 proposed the theory that ideas, or abstract forms, are 
 the only true realities, and that the things from which 
 we have abstracted these forms are mere shams, mere 
 transient appearances. Materialism is right also as 
 opposed to spiritualism, when spiritualism claims 
 
RE A CTION A CST MA TERIA L ISM. 385 
 
 that spirits exist or can exist apart from material bod- 
 ies, that the spiritual has an empire of its own in ab- 
 stract independence, and that ghosts can walk about 
 in bodiless nudity. 
 
 The reaction which, as we can everywhere observe, 
 is taking place against the errors of materialism is 
 based upon a great truth, and it is this truth that 
 will survive the crudities of the movement. There can 
 be no doubt about the fact that this world is spiritual 
 in its inmost nature. The spiritual animates every 
 particle of matter and appears in its most beautiful 
 and grandest development in the human soul. The 
 spiritual is no incidental feature of reality, but an 
 intrinsic quality of its existence, which will surely 
 blaze out in the course of the evolution of worlds. It 
 is, as it were, the revelation of the secret concealed in 
 the potentialities of the elementary conditions of the 
 universe. 
 
 We do not maintain that a spirit resides in every 
 atom, but we maintain that the elements of feeling are 
 a property that is inseparably connected with matter. 
 Feeling originates when a certain configuration of mol- 
 ecules produces a definite interaction among the par- 
 ticles of organized substance. The motions of every par- 
 ticle take place according to the laws of mechanics, 
 and are accompanied not with feeling but with ele- 
 ments of feeling. The feeling that takes place in or- 
 ganized substance during its activity is not a product 
 of its mechanical motion (i. e., motion is not changed 
 into feeling), but it is a phenomenon that accom- 
 panies its mechanical motions. Mechanical motions 
 and the elements of feeling are not interchange- 
 able, but run parallel to each other ; and special com- 
 binations of these elements form the phenomena we 
 
3 86 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 call feelings. Thus together with the evolution of the 
 mechanism progresses the development of feeling 
 which reaches in man the height of conscious thought. 
 
 The elements of the spiritual we consider accord- 
 ingly, as a universal property of matter. Nature is not 
 dead, it is alive ; it bears in its bosom the germs of 
 life and will develop them in the course of the nat- 
 ural process of evolution. Spirit is a special com- 
 bination, a certain form, the mechanical parallelism 
 of which is found in the activity of living sub- 
 stance ; and the growth of the spiritual depends upon 
 and accompanies the perfectionment of organism. 
 
 Materialism overlooks the importance .of form. 
 Materialists by identifying the material with the 
 real, imagine that they have exhausted the reality of ob- 
 jects when they consider their material existence alone. 
 Without the material, of which it consists, a thing 
 would disappear ; the material element in it, it is true, 
 makes the thing real, in so far as it gives substantiality 
 to it. Yet the form is no mere nothing, as material- 
 ists are too apt to say. The form is exactly that which 
 makes the thing such as it is. Without its present 
 form a watch might be anything ; it might be a lump 
 of metal, or any other thing, but it would be no watch. 
 The form of things, therefore, is the most important 
 part of reality. It is the form only, be it in motion or 
 in matter, that excites the interest of the scientist; 
 form arouses the imagination of the artist and the 
 industry of the inventor. 
 
 Spiritualists, in a certain sense, ought to be called 
 materialists, for they have one error in common with 
 materialists. They cannot see that the formal and the 
 relational, although real,are non-material. But while ma- 
 terialists consider forms as mere nothings, spiritualists 
 
RE A CTION A G'ST MA TERIALISM. 387 
 
 are prone to look upon forms as if they were substances, 
 and thus materialize spirit. They conceive spirit as a 
 substance like matter, only much more subtile, and not 
 perceptible by our senses. Thus they lack in the 
 properly spiritual conception of form, and become 
 blind to the irrefragibility of the mechanical law. 
 They dream of a realm of life in which a different and 
 a higher kind of mechanics, a hypermechanics, will 
 supersede the usual mechanical laws that prevail in 
 the realm of material existences. 
 
 Science traces the laws of form everywhere. The 
 laws of form are our guides and the instruments of 
 research. No scientific problem, whether it concerns 
 matter or motion, is fully solved until it is shown to 
 be a problem of form. Thus the motions of the ce- 
 lestial bodies are reduced to simple arithmetical for- 
 mulas, being mere applications of purely formal laws, 
 and in this astronomy has reached a certain stage of 
 perfection. Similarly, the problem of the chemical 
 elements would be solved, if chemistry could demon- 
 strate that the different kinds of matter, as oxygen, 
 carbon, iron, etc., are special forms of one and the 
 same substance only, and that their different prop- 
 erties are natural consequences of their difference in 
 configuration as well as density. 
 
 There is no absolutely dead matter. But every 
 atom is freighted with the potentialities of life. 
 The living spontaneity of the world is the condition 
 of the spiritual; but it is not as yet the spiritual in its 
 development, and in its full importance. The spirit- 
 ual grows in and with the forms of life ; it would be 
 nothing without the forms of organization. The spir- 
 itual, therefore, appears in its glory in organized life, 
 and has reached upon earth the highest stage of its 
 evolution in the intelligence of the spirit of man. 
 
REAL AND REALITY. 
 
 [EXPLANATORY NOTE.] 
 
 THE following sentence of the preceding article, " The Re- 
 action against Materialism," seemed to some of my readers to con- 
 tain a contradiction : 
 
 " Materialism went too far when it tried to explain everything 
 from matter, when it identified matter with reality. Yet it stands 
 on solid ground when it maintains that every reality is material." 
 
 The contradiction is only apparent, as will be learned from 
 the following consideration : 
 
 Every reality has three elements. First, it consists of matter ; 
 secondly, its material particles have a special form ; and thirdly, 
 they are endowed with a certain motion. Matter, form, and mo- 
 tion are abstracts representing certain qualities that are real ; we 
 call them " real " because they are qualities of reality. Matter is 
 real, form is real, motion is real. Yet matter is not all of reality, 
 nor is form, nor is motion ; for every reality, besides being mate- 
 rial, possesses at the same time a special form, and is also en- 
 dowed with some kind of motion. 
 
 It is apparent that adjectives have often a wider application 
 than their nouns. The adjective " real " covers a larger field than 
 the noun "reality." Thus every fool is foolish, but every thing 
 that is foolish need not exactly be a fool. I may say, without fall- 
 ing into a contradiction, this : Space is real ; yet space is not a re- 
 ality. This, in other words, means : Space is a certain quality of 
 reality ; the relations among things, the qualities of things, are ob- 
 jective properties and not mere subjective illusions ; yet is space 
 no thingish entity, no tangible object, as concrete bodies are, e. g. , 
 stones, plants, and animals. Space is non-material, and yet space 
 is real. If I have the following two premises : 
 
 Every reality is material. 
 Space is real. 
 
 I cannot conclude the syllogism with the statement : 
 
 Therefore space is material. 
 And there is no contradiction involved if I add the sentence : 
 
 And yet space is non-material. 
 
FREEDOM OF WILL AND RESPONSIBILITY. 
 
 THE question has often been asked : " Is a man re- 
 sponsible for his actions, or is he the slave of condi- 
 tions?" The standpoint of science and that of ethics 
 does not appear to agree. Science rests upon, it pre- 
 supposes, and, indeed, it proves by its very existence 
 the rigidity of law. All natural processes are pervaded 
 by an irrefragable necessity, and psychical acts are 
 no exception to the universal order of things. But 
 the clergyman, the teacher, the ethical instructor 
 step in, proclaiming the moral law : Thou shalt and 
 thou shalt not. What is the use of moral behests, if 
 the formation of future events is unalterably fixed, if 
 we are unable to make or to mar? If this be the case, 
 does not the must of science collide with the ought of 
 morals ? 
 
 It does not collide, unless the one or the other or 
 both are misunderstood. The must and the ought do 
 not contradict each other ; on the contrary, they con- 
 dition and they explain one another. The ought of 
 morality has sense only on the supposition of the must 
 of science. 
 
 Theologians made the mistake of defining freedom 
 of will as something that breaks through all natural 
 laws ; and they were thus obliged to look upon it as a 
 mystery beyond the grasp of the philosopher. On 
 the other hand, the philosopher was obliged to deny 
 
390 THE SGUL OF MAN. 
 
 the possibility of a freedom of will that infringes 
 upon natural laws. Freedom of will was defined 
 as a contradiction of scientific necessity, as an annihi- 
 lation of physical laws, and as an exception to the 
 natural order of things. 
 
 What is freedom of will? Freedom of will means 
 that a man is free to do that which he wills. A pris- 
 oner is not free ; his liberty is curtailed : he cannot do 
 what he wills. A vanquished man who lies at the feet 
 of his conqueror, is not free in his action ; he depends 
 upon the mercy of his adversary. Yet in a certain 
 sense even the fettered man, the slave and bondsman 
 remain, or at least can remain, free. Their actions 
 do not, and need not, entirely depend upon circum- 
 stances outside of them. 
 
 Hagen in the Teutonic Saga stands locked in iron 
 chains before Chriemhild ; he is asked where he had 
 hidden the treasure of the Nibelungs. Yet he answers 
 proudly : 
 
 Den schaz weiz nu nieman wan got unde mtn, 
 Der sol dich valantinne immer gar verholn sin. 
 
 [The treasure is known to no one except to God and me, 
 Forever, fiendish woman, be it concealed from thee.} 
 
 Hagen proves to the Queen of the Huns his free- 
 dom of will ; and his will is stronger than the fear of 
 death, which thereupon he suffers at the hand of the 
 revengeful woman. 
 
 If the decision of a man is determined by sur- 
 rounding conditions solely, he feels himself to be, and 
 indeed he is, a slave of the situation. But if his de- 
 cision is determined solely by his character, by the 
 thoughts and principles that move his mind ; if he re- 
 mains unbiased by surrounding conditions ; if on the 
 one- hand dangers, calamities, and the prospect of 
 
FREEDOM OF WILL. 391 
 
 death cannot frighten, and on the other hand allure- 
 ments and pleasures cannot decoy : then does his de- 
 cision depend in all situations upon himself, then is 
 he independent of the influences of surrounding con- 
 ditions ; he is a free man, even if he were laden with 
 chains, even if he were a slave as was Epiktetus. 
 
 The motives that set the psychical mechanism of 
 a human soul in motion have two phases an object- 
 ive and a subjective phase. They represent, (i) cer- 
 tain facts of the outside world, and, (2) certain prin- 
 ciples or maxims in the mind indicating how to deal 
 with the facts of one's surroundings. The objective 
 fact is the one phase and the subjective attitude is the 
 other phase. A man, in whom the objective fact con- 
 stitutes the overwhelming part of a motive, cannot be 
 said to be free ; but if the subjective attitude remains 
 the decisive element in a motive, he is free, and his 
 actions will be the true expression of his character. 
 He will preserve his freedom even under conditions 
 where weaker souls would yield to a compulsion of 
 circumstances. 
 
 The consciousness of man's moral freedom and of 
 the dignity that rises from this freedom should never 
 be lost by any one of us. For the idea that we can 
 be free, if we dare to, that we are free if we do not 
 allow ourselves to be enthralled, will afford us an in- 
 calculable power of self-possession. It will give us 
 stability and quietude in the turmoil of exciting events 
 which threaten to carry us away ; whatever be our fate, 
 we can be, and can remain, faithful to ourselves and 
 to our principles. 
 
 Freedom of will is man's mark of dignity over brute 
 creation, and Schiller, the poet of liberty, proudly sings: 
 
 Man is free, e'en were he born in chains t 
 
392 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 In answer to this view, some theologians of a 
 mystical cast of mind declare, that freedom of will does 
 not denote the freedom of man's will to do a thing, 
 but it means the freedom of a man's will to will an- 
 other thing than he wills. It is plain that the free- 
 dom of a man to do what he wills as explained above, 
 does not stand in contradiction to natural laws, it 
 forms no exception to the universal and necessary 
 course of nature. For whatever a man wills, he must 
 will of necessity. The decision of a scoundrel if 
 his freedom of will is not curtailed, if he can act as 
 he pleases, will of necessity be that of a scoundrel ; 
 his actions cannot but show his character. That is his 
 prerogative, flowing from the freedom of will that na- 
 ture allotted to man. The decisions of an honest man 
 will of necessity be honest and will prove the honesty 
 of his character. If freedom of will means that the 
 decision of the one or the other granted their char- 
 acters are as they are might be different from what 
 it is, this would indeed be a reversion of the order 
 of nature, it would be an annihilation of the law of 
 cause and effect, and it would make ethics impossible, 
 not only science in general, but among the sciences 
 the science of the moral ought also. 
 
 We reject any conception of the freedom of will 
 which implies the nonsensical statement that a man 
 could will one thing and the contrary of that thing at the 
 same time. Certainly a man can wish two things of 
 which the one excludes the other : but he can will the 
 one only. So long as he wishes to do at the same time 
 two contradictory things, he will do neither the one 
 nor the other, and unless the motive of the one is 
 stronger than the other, he will be like Buridan's don- 
 key, who starves between the two bundles of hay. 
 
FREEDOM OF WILL. 393 
 
 Will is the decision to let some of our wishes pass 
 into act. The decision of a fully conscious and 
 responsible man is the end and outcome of a delibera- 
 tion. It is the plan of action sanctioned by the ver- 
 dict of a consensus of the principles, the wishes, and 
 the hopes in one word, of all the ideas of a man. The 
 decision is arrived at by a struggle of the conflicting 
 wishes and it is natural that the strongest wish will of 
 necessity gain the upper hand. 
 
 Let us for instance imagine, that a young man is 
 led into temptation. An occasion offers itself to com- 
 mit a defalcation. The hope of gain is the motive to 
 commit a wrong ; there is the chance of not being dis- 
 covered ; the stronger that chance is, the more will it 
 strengthen the motive of the deed. On the other hand, 
 there is the remembrance of the eighth commandment 
 " Thou shalt not steal." There is the shame of be- 
 coming a thief, and then perhaps the exhortations of 
 mother and father are remembered. Their shadows 
 may be too dim and their voices may be too faint. 
 Perhaps they grow clearer and stronger, the more the 
 unhappy youth hesitates ; they at last eclipse all other 
 motives and he exclaims " Never ! I shall never dis- 
 grace the name of my family ; I shall keep holy the 
 remembrance of father and mother, and remain as 
 honest as were my parents." 
 
 The decision of a deliberation will always turn out 
 as it does, with necessity. The decision, however, does 
 not depend on the circumstances of the surrounding 
 world alone, not solely on conditions outside of us, 
 but also arid chiefly on our character, on the condi- 
 tions inside of us. If our moral principles, if the re- 
 membrances of dear parents and instructors are strong 
 in a man, if he is clear-minded and far-sighted enough 
 
394 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 to see the evil consequences that, perhaps not at once 
 but after a while, will be sure to fall upon him, he will 
 not be in danger of falling an easy prey to every 
 temptation. And it is for this reason that an ethical 
 instruction of the young is necessary, that we build 
 churches and have preachers to tell us again and 
 again, how necessary is the moral ought. Noble ideals 
 and virtuous principles must be implanted into the 
 minds of men. They must become parts of their 
 souls and truly the dominant parts, so that they will 
 never be overruled in temptation by evil motives and 
 low desires. 
 
 Could we preach morals, if after all an honest man 
 might will the contrary of what he wills, if his deci- 
 sion did not result from his character with necessity, 
 but might perchance be different from what it is? Or 
 again, would it be worth while to trouble about preach- 
 ing morals, if a bad character, into whose soul never 
 entered any idea of obeying another command than 
 the impulses of egotism, might after all act right as if 
 he were a good and honest and well conducted man ? 
 
 The ought of ethics would have no sense, if there 
 were no must in the course of nature, such as science 
 can prove. The must in natural events and in history 
 is not such as is taught by Fatalism, that man is unable 
 to change its course. The fates of individuals and of 
 nations do not depend upon the circumstances of envi- 
 ronment only. The most important factor of our per- 
 sonal development and of the future of a nation lies 
 within within the minds and the hearts of people. 
 Jeder ist .seines Gliickes Schmied, (" Every one forges 
 his own fate,") says a German proverb, almost too trite 
 to be quoted. And yet it is so very true ! The result of 
 pur development depends not only upon the circum- 
 
FREEDOM OF WILL. 395 
 
 stances under which we are born and live, but neces- 
 sarily and naturally also, and chiefly, upon the manner 
 in which we use these circumstances. 
 
 Therefore it is not true although it is often con- 
 tended that science when recognizing the necessity 
 with which decisions of the will take place, destroys the 
 responsibility of man. What is responsibility but the 
 consciousness that a man has to bear the consequences 
 of his actions, be it for good or for evil ? The expe- 
 rience of common sense teaches and science proves that 
 every action always has definite consequences, which 
 upon the whole can be calculated and ascertained be- 
 fore the execution of the action ; and the person who 
 does an action must accordingly be looked upon as 
 the author not only of the action, but also of the con- 
 sequences contingent upon that action. 
 
 A man in whose mind this idea is always present, 
 i. e. , a man who feels himself responsible for his 
 actions, has a great advantage over persons in whom 
 it is lacking. Those in whom it is lacking are, properly 
 speaking, not men ; they are children. They are 
 liable to commit indeliberate actions which must in the 
 end lead them into trouble ; and if their own misfor- 
 tunes do not educate them to become responsible men, 
 they will ultimately go to the wall. 
 
 A man in whose soul the idea that he is responsible 
 for his actions is a controlling power, is called a char- 
 acter. In whatever he does he will prove a consistency 
 with himself and will never have occasion for regret. 
 This idea so long as it is present in his mind, will 
 exercise in difficulties a decisive, and in temptations a 
 wholesome, influence upon all his decisions. 
 
396 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 A criticism by Mr. John Maddock on this article, 
 " Freedom of Will and Responsibility," appeared in 
 No. 142 of The Open Court, in reply to which the fol- 
 lowing remarks were made : 
 
 MR. JOHN MADDOCK apparently misunderstands the position 
 taken in the article " Freedom of Will and Responsibility." Free- 
 dom of will is denned, not in a theological or metaphysical sense, 
 but in the physical or natural sense, as the power to do that which 
 one wills. A slave who works because he is compelled to work is 
 not free : he acts under compulsion ; but a man who works because 
 he is eager to perform a certain work, is free : he acts of his own 
 free will. 
 
 The old theological or metaphysical conception defines Free- 
 dom of Will as the freedom of a man to will whatever he wills. 
 This definition is widely different from our definition "to do that 
 which one wills." According to this wrong view of the Freedom 
 of Will, generally called indeterminism, the decision of a man is 
 not bound, not determined by any law ; he may will as he does, but 
 he might under the very same circumstances will differently. 
 
 Indeterminism is based upon error ; it attributes to man an 
 exceptional place in the universe ; he is supposed to be exempt 
 from natural laws, and the rigid law of cause and effect, it is 
 maintained, does not apply to his will. 
 
 Mr. Haddock's objections are all valid and sound against 
 Freedom of Will in the metaphysical sense, viz., against indeter- 
 minism, that a man can will whatever he wills. Indeterminism 
 admits law in the environment in nature, but denies it in the organ- 
 ism, in the will of man. Indeterminism declares that there is a 
 cause for every natural phenomenon, but there is no cause for 
 human action ; man is supposed to act without a cause. This view 
 is the very basis of dualism, and v/e have repeatedly called atten- 
 tion to the untenableness of its position. 
 
 Matters are very different, if our definition of Freewill is 
 accepted. The decision of a free man depends upon his character. 
 He will not yield to compulsion, but act as he sees fit. And a free 
 man must of necessity will and act as he does. This theory of free 
 will is not indeterminism ; on the contrary, it is in accord with de- 
 terminism. 
 
FREEDOM OF WILL. 397 
 
 We are wont to call a man who is easily carried away to in- 
 considerate actions, a slave of his passion. The action of a rash 
 man may be called free, because he acts without compulsion ; yet 
 he is not free in so far as his decision is made without proper delib- 
 eration. One part of his soul alone decides his will, and this part, 
 at the time unduly strong, suppresses all other thoughts, all 
 nobler ideals, and worthier considerations. His better self is not 
 allowed to be heard on this occasion and does not speak until it is 
 too late. The result of such action is called regret, or if it be very 
 strong, remorse. 
 
 A man who either from ignorance or malevolence does not care 
 to have his decisions governed by justice and rectitude, will com- 
 mit actions which he would have to regret if he were a moral man. 
 Such a man society forces by its judicial and police institutions to 
 do right. Such a man is not free ; society makes him a slave of the 
 laws of society ; " he needs a policeman," as Mr. Haddock says. 
 And I believe every one of us possesses a tendency to overstep the 
 limits of our rights and infringe upon our neighbors'. Yet at the 
 same time, every one of us is animated (if it were not from natural 
 kindliness it would be from mere egotism) by a spirit of be- 
 nevolence toward our fellow-beings and the good intention to be a 
 useful and worthy member of society. In that case, however, the 
 law would become part of our soul ; " the policeman," to use Mr. 
 Maddock's expression, would be within us ; and in that case our 
 decisions, being regulated by ourselves, would be the expression 
 of our own character. We would not be slaves of the policeman ; 
 we would be policeman and subject in one person ; and accord- 
 ingly would be our own commanders : we would be free.". 
 
IS DEATH A FINALITY? 
 
 IT is a well-known fact to which scientists and 
 thinkers have more than once called our attention, 
 that there is no natural death among the lowly organ- 
 ized animals that stand at the bottom of the ladder of 
 evolution. Moners and amcebas grow and divide ; and 
 if they are not starved or crushed to death, they will 
 live and multiply into eternity. The moner which we 
 fish out of a pond of stagnant water for observation 
 to-day, is the same individual or part of the same in- 
 dividual that lived aeons ago, long long before man ap- 
 peared upon earth. 
 
 Is not man a part of animal life, and indeed the 
 highest part? How is it that he must die? If immor- 
 tality is the natural state of those creatures of which 
 all higher animate beings are but complex and dif- 
 ferentiated forms, how did it happen that death came 
 into this world of life ? 
 
 DEATH AND BIRTH. 
 
 Death is the twin of birth. It seems natural to say 
 that all that lives must die. This, however, is a wrong 
 statement of facts. It is more correct to say that every 
 creature that is born will die. Birth is the beginning 
 of a new being and death is its end. Yet we shall 
 easily recognize the truth that neither birth is an ab- 
 
SS DEATH A FINALITY? 399 
 
 solutely new beginning nor death an absolute finality. 
 Beginning and end of individual life are relative. 
 
 When we investigate the problem of the origin of 
 death, we must at the same time answer the ques- 
 tion, " How did birth come into the world? " 
 
 The moner knows of no birth ; it grows and di- 
 vides, thus passing beyond the limits of its individual 
 existence. There is not a mother-moner, and its child ; 
 there are only the results of a division. The same 
 moner is before us, not in one coherent lump, but 
 in two parts. 
 
 PROPAGATION OF A MONER. 
 
 The propagation of moners, the lowliest organized of beings, occurs by 
 spontaneous division. A. The complete moner a Protamceba. B. Splitting 
 up of the same by a median contraction, into two halves. C. Each of the two 
 halves has separated from its companion and makes up an independent in- 
 dividual. (After Haeckel.) 
 
 The process is a little more complicated in such 
 unicellular organisms as the amczba sphaerococcus 
 for instance. This amoeba contains a nucleus (A, ), 
 with a nucleolus (A, a] ; and its plasma (A, c) is 
 encased in a membrane (A, d). When the amoeba 
 grows the nucleolus doubles, and the plasma bursts 
 its membrane (as seen in B). Each nucleolus forms 
 its own nucleus, and the plasma gathering round each 
 
400 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 nucleus begins to separate into two parts, until the 
 division is perfect. 
 
 PROPAGATION OF AMCEBA SPHAEROCOCCUS. 
 
 The propagation of this unicellular organism takes place by spontaneous 
 division. A. Encased amoeba, a simple spherical cell, consisting of a lump of 
 protoplasm (c), which contains a nucleus (b) and a nucleolus (a), and is en- 
 closed in a membrane. B. The released amoeba that has burst its cyst or 
 membranous pouch and left it. Its nucleus contains two nucleoli. C. The 
 amoeba begins to divide, its nucleus splitting up into two nuclei and the plasma 
 between the two contracting. D. The division is completed, the plasma also 
 having been completely divided into two parts (Da and Db). (After Haeckel, 
 Natilrliche Schopfungsgeschichte. ) 
 
 The next step in the evolution of a ' growth be- 
 yond the limits of individual existence ' is gemmation. 
 Gemmation is a process that can be observed in spring 
 in all trees and flowers. A bud appears, and grows 
 rapidly to maturity. Many worms, some medusas, 
 and some corals multiply by gemmation. In gemma- 
 tion the parts are not equal at the start. There is a 
 mother, and a child; for the division is only partial, 
 and the child begins as a germ. 
 
 Sporogony is not much different from gemmation; 
 it is the secretion of germinal cells, called spores. 
 The spores possess the faculty of developing the same 
 structures of which its mother organism consists. 
 
 Sporogony is the connecting link leading to sex- 
 ual generation, which for all higher stages of life is 
 destined to become the sole method of procreation. 
 Among that order of beings whose nature is not yet 
 
AS" DEATH A FINALITY? 401 
 
 so defined that they can be classed either with animals 
 or with plants, and which Professor Haeckel calls 
 protists, many instances are to be found where the 
 procreation of spores results from a union of two in- 
 dividual cells. These cells may, in many cases, yet 
 not always, be of a homogeneous nature. And in the 
 course of further advancement the two cells become 
 distinct ; they commence to disintegrate into two dif- 
 ferent and complementary elements, which show an 
 affinity for one another, similar to that between chem- 
 ical alkalis and bases which tend to unite into salts. 
 As soon as this differentiation takes place we have ex- 
 amples of sexual generation. 
 
 Multiplication by division is not entirely limited 
 to the very lowest creatures ; we find it also among 
 animals that stand comparatively high in the scale 
 of evolution, much higher at least than the moner. 
 Some polyps, and among them corals, multiply by di- 
 vision. Their mouths, having the appearance of a 
 flower, grow broader in size ; the opposite edges ap- 
 proach each other at the median line, until they unite. 
 Thus the two corners of the mouth are separated for 
 good and form two corals upon one stalk. 
 
 There is, for the individual animals that come into 
 existence, a great advantage in the process of multi- 
 plication by division. Every moner, every polyp thus 
 produced starts in life as a full-fledged creature. 
 There is no state of infancy with all its troubles and 
 dangers to be passed through, for these creatures make 
 their first appearance in a state of maturity. It is 
 natural that the form and soul of the original organism 
 should thus be preserved in all the details of their 
 parts. The heredity of these animals is no similarity, 
 but absolute identity. 
 
402 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 A 
 
 CONJUGATION OF CHILODON CUCULLULUS. 
 
 A shows the two individuals in immediate contact ; b, mouth ; z>. c., con- 
 tractile vesicle ; n, nucleus ; nu, nucleolus or attendant nucleus, i. e., new for- 
 mation of a smaller nucleus. 
 
 B. The attendant nucleus divides into two segments, nu' and nu\ The 
 old nucleus n shows signs of regression. 
 
 C. After the division of the segments has been completely effected, one 
 segment of each individual is exchanged for one of the other individual, when 
 a union of both as thus exchanged takes place. 
 
 D shows an unequal breaking up of the newly formed mixed nucleus into 
 a larger () and a smaller (nun) segment. 
 
 E. The old nucleus dries up, and the larger segment of the new-formed 
 nucleus assumes its function in the individual ; the smaller segment forms the 
 new attendant nucleus. 
 
 Many details of this process, the investigations regarding which have been 
 carried on particularly by Butschli, Maupas, and Balbiani, have not as yet 
 been satisfactorily established. Whether the exchange of the differentiated 
 parts takes place through the mouth or through a special orifice, could not, 
 owing to the small size of the creatures, be determined. Still, whatever ob- 
 scurity may prevail in matters of particular process, it is firmly settled that 
 we have to deal in such cases with a fertilization constituting the beginning 
 of sexual generation. 
 
SS DEA TH A FINALITY? 403 
 
 These advantages are lost in the measure that the 
 procreation of new individuals approaches the system 
 of sexual generation. Buds are at first very tender 
 and may easily be injured before they are as strong as 
 their mother organism. Spores are helpless and may 
 be devoured as food by the many hungry animals that 
 swarm about them. And the higher we rise in the 
 scale of evolution the greater become the difficulties 
 of a germ to reach maturity. These disadvantages to 
 the individual, however, are richly overbalanced by 
 the higher advantages afforded through greater possi- 
 bilities of development and progress. The struggle 
 for life grows fiercer, yet in and through the struggle 
 the organisms grow stronger ; they adapt themselves 
 to conditions, first unconsciously, then consciously, and 
 in man they acquire that foresight and circumspec- 
 tion which make him the lord of creation. 
 
 Those animals that survive can upon the whole sur- 
 vive only by great efforts ; they were not strong at the 
 start, so they had to learn to be strong ; they were un- 
 mindful in the presence of dangers, so they had to 
 learn to be on their guard in perilous situations. In 
 every respect they had to pass through a severe school 
 and every single virtue that can lead them onwards, 
 they had to acquire themselves. 
 
 Innumerable individuals, it is true, are sacrificed 
 in the struggle for existence ; yet their lives are not 
 mere waste in the household of nature : they are the 
 martyrs of progress; and the generation of to-day lives 
 upon the fruits of their sacrifice. 
 
 In sexual generation there is a blending of two in- 
 dividuals which affords greater possibilities for im- 
 provement. The conditions under which the com- 
 plementary germs unite, and the proportions of their 
 
404 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 mixture may be different. Thus a variety is produced 
 which admits of a selection of the best, the strongest, 
 and the most adapted for survival. The original con- 
 servatism of life that tended to reproduce itself ex- 
 actly, down to the minutest details, is in this way not 
 abolished, but modified or checked by the possibility 
 of changes. Life becomes more plastic ; and the se- 
 vere teacher of life, nature, takes care that bad qual- 
 ities unfit for preservation will soon discontinue. 
 
 WHENCE CAME DEATH ? 
 
 There is a moral in the victory of sexual genera- 
 tion over the multiplication by division. Sexual or 
 amphigonous generation is less egotistical than non- 
 sexual or monogonous generation. It is no mere re- 
 production of self, but the reproduction of a unison of 
 two selves. Sexual generation, propagation by birth, 
 and the helplessness of offspring in infancy impose 
 heavy duties, as of nursing and education, upon parent- 
 individuals; yet the performance of these duties is 
 richly rewarded in the progress of the race. These 
 duties teach even creatures of lower rank to care 
 for the preservation of their kind more in their chil- 
 dren than in their individual selves. The rise to 
 higher planes in evolution is conditioned by the de- 
 velopment of moral faculties. 
 
 The sacrifice that creatures have to bring for the 
 amelioration of their offspring is greater still : they 
 have to sacrifice their individual immortality. It ap- 
 pears that the regenerative faculty of an amoeba de- 
 pends upon the function of its nucleus, perhaps even 
 of the nucleolus. The ingenious experiments of Gruber, 
 Nussbaum, and Ehrenberg, prove, that if we cut out 
 the nucleus from one of the lowly organisms the 
 
IS DEA TH A FINALITY? 
 
 45 
 
 animal will continue to live, but that it has lost the 
 power of renewing its form.* Balbiani, who repeated 
 the experiments of Gruber upon Stentor cceruleus, 
 shows in the adjoined diagram the renewal of the 
 whole individual from any part if but one nucleus be 
 preserved. 
 
 ARTIFICIAL DIVISION OF STENTOR CGERULEUS. 
 
 The nucleus of Stentor coeruleus consists of a chain of nuclear beads. 
 The prefixed figure shows the restoration of the middle section which con- 
 tains only a single nucleus. After M. Balbiani. t 
 
 It is the nucleus that in lower animals represents 
 the inner organs of reproduction, which, as we have 
 seen, in the two sexes are differentiated into two com- 
 plementary parts. In a child the differentiation of 
 the nucleus into either a male or a female germ has 
 begun but is not yet perfect. The child, still pos- 
 sessing a re-formative nucleus, thus grows ; and in 
 many respects its tender system possesses more vital- 
 ity than an adult person. But as soon as the child 
 has reached the state of maturity, when the differen- 
 tiation of the nucleus has become perfect, its growth 
 ceases. The nucleus in each individual of the two 
 sexes no longer being complete loses its re-form- 
 
 * Biologisches Centralblatt, 1885, p. 73; Encyclopedia Britannica, Pro- 
 tozoa. 
 
 t From Alfred Binet's monograph, The Psychic Life of Micro-Organisms. 
 Open Court Pub. Co., Chicago, 111. 
 
406 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ative power with regard to the individual and can 
 temporarily regain it only through fecundation. Prop- 
 erly speaking neither man nor woman is a perfect and 
 independent being. Separately they are mortals, they 
 are doomed to die. They will live for a while like a 
 micro-organism whose nucleus is imperfect. Yet in 
 their unison, man and woman together, are as im- 
 mortal as the moner. 
 
 Upon this fact is based the holiness of matrimony. 
 Matrimony is a union not for this life only, but for our 
 life after death in the coming generations. This makes 
 of wedlock an act of religious sanctity ; and it is ap- 
 parent that it should not be entered upon merely from 
 personal considerations, for the benefit, the pleasure, 
 or happiness of either or both parties. The future 
 of humanity depends upon the sacredness of matri- 
 mony. 
 
 Birth, we have learned, is a special kind of multi- 
 plication ; and, as such, it is a growth beyond the limits 
 of individual existence. Before the life of a child 
 commenced, it was a part of its parents ; and its ex- 
 istence is nothing but an outgrowth and a continua- 
 tion of their lives. Thus the immortality of the 
 moner is not lost in the higher stages of organized 
 life, it only becomes more spiritual. It ceases more 
 and more to be an identity of the body, and becomes 
 a preservation of the soul. The soul of an animal, 
 however, is not its mere shape, not its present form 
 alone, but its formative principle also : the form of 
 special motions, and the form to which these motions 
 in a further evolution will lead. The soul of an as- 
 piring man is not only the faculties he possesses at 
 present, but the ideals also which he aspires to ; it is 
 the direction of his energy and the goal of his en- 
 
IS DEATH A FINALITY? 407 
 
 deavors. This preservation of human souls, admit- 
 ting of development, is therefore greatly superior to 
 the conservatism of the soul-life in moners ; it is the 
 preservation, not of the present form, but of an up- 
 ward movement, of the soul of soul, and this leads 
 to a realization of ever higher possibilities. 
 
 Is the immortality of soul-life not more valuable 
 than individual existence? If the death of ourselves, 
 as individuals, is the price thereof, let Death have 
 his prey, and let him teach us the earnestness of life, 
 so that we may regulate our conduct, not from the 
 standpoint of narrow egotism, not according to the 
 view that death is a finality, but from the ethical stand- 
 point of immortality. 
 
 THE ETHICS OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 Death is no finality, and we must not form our rules 
 of conduct to accord with the idea that the exit of 
 our individual life is the end of all. People who have 
 no interests, no hopes or fears, no cares or ideals that 
 reach beyond the grave, may enjoy themselves better 
 than others who live their lives with a constant pros- 
 pect of immortality ; yet, in the long run of many 
 generations they will go to the wall. Nature does 
 not preserve the individual that cares for itself alone. 
 But nature preserves those individual features of 
 great men who conquer egotism, and lead moral lives 
 of self-discipline and ideal aspirations. 
 
 The immortality of the soul was instinctively felt 
 even before man could have a distinct and clear idea 
 about its possibility. The moral teachers of mankind 
 found it necessary to build their ethics upon this 
 truth, and it is not at all to be wondered at that the 
 opinions of the churches survived in the struggle for 
 
408 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 existence against those people who lopked upon death 
 as an absolute finality. The belief in the immor- 
 tality of soul life is a marvelous preservative among 
 the many dangers and temptations of the world, and 
 the ethics that are derived therefrom are innervating 
 and refreshing and strengthening. 
 
 The immortality of the soul was taught to be 
 the migration of a disembodied ghost, who was sup- 
 posed to wander through unknown haunts, or to soar 
 upward to some distant star. We now know that this 
 view is, upon scientific grounds, untenable. But this 
 erroneous conception was, after all, truer than the 
 flat denial of any immortality. The truth that lives 
 in the error keeps it alive, to the great astonishment 
 of those who look upon the immortality of the soul as 
 a mere superstition. 
 
 The ethics that Sophocles taught in his time was a 
 rule of conduct dictated by a regard for our state after 
 death. There was nothing higher, nothing greater 
 to a Greek citizen than obedience to the laws of his 
 country. Yet the regard for our state after death, 
 the poet declared, is holier still ; it is an unwritten 
 law graven in our hearts, and it rules supreme over 
 all the written laws of states. The ruler of a city 
 may impiously deny the rite of burial to his enemy ; 
 he may, by the written law of state authority, inflict 
 capital punishment upon the transgressor. But a 
 woman like Antigone will disobey the royal authority, 
 because of the higher authority of the unwritten law 
 in her heart. An offence like that is a righteous of- 
 fence. 
 
 Sophocles makes her declare to Creon the motive 
 of her deed in the following lines : 
 
IS DEATH A FINALITY? 409 
 
 " Thus have I righteously offended here. 
 For longer time, methinks, have I to please 
 The dwellers in that world than those in this ; 
 For I shall rest forever there ; butthou 
 Dishonor, if thou wilt, the laws divine." 
 
 The whole gist of ethics if it be real ethics, and 
 not mere worldly prudence is the regulation of life 
 from the standpoint of eternity. The attempt has 
 been made by philosophers who look upon death as 
 a finality, to construct a new kind of ethics which 
 should have nothing to do with any aspirations that 
 reach beyond the grave. They succeeded to a cer- 
 tain extent ; they succeeded in so far as they showed 
 that all egotism will necessarily fail to accomplish its 
 ends, and that those who yearn for happiness will be 
 sure never to gain it. Therefore, they said, if you want 
 happiness, do not seek it, do not long for it, for if 
 you do, you will miss it. * This is the negative result 
 of an attempt to base ethics on man's yearning for 
 happiness ; and this result is most valuable, in so far 
 as it proves that our yearning for happiness is just 
 that instinct which must be checked by the behests 
 of ethics. 
 
 Ethics must be based on facts, and must be applied 
 to facts. The facts of soul life and its relations to 
 the surrounding world, do not make it likely that liv- 
 ing creatures exist for the mere enjoyment of life. 
 Happiness is one important component of life. But 
 so is work, so is recreation, so is the endeavor to 
 progress, and so is the satisfaction of having accom- 
 plished something useful for humanity. Happiness is 
 
 * Mr. Herbert Spencer in the Popular Science Monthly for August, 1888, 
 compares happiness to the bull's eye of a target which must not be directly 
 aimed at. " If you do," the instructor in archery says, "you will inevitably 
 miss it.' Happiness, we agree with Mr. Spencer, is generally desired; but 
 says Mr. Spencer, " happiness will not be found if it is directly sought." 
 
410 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 not the end and purpose of life, if it were, the great 
 pessimist, Schopenhauer, would be right, that life is 
 not worth its own troubles. Life is the denouement, 
 the development, the evolution of the cosmos. If 
 life can be said, at all, to have a purpose, it is its own 
 evolution. And the evolution of life is no mere blind 
 struggle for existence, but a race in an arena for ethi- 
 cal aspirations. 
 
 There are dreamers who think that competition is 
 the root of all evil ; they picture a state of society in 
 which happiness will rule because competition has 
 disappeared. It is the dream of a Schlaraffia, of an 
 Utopian country, where dolce far niente makes a par- 
 adise in which men live without backbones, because 
 no backbone is needed in a heaven where the struggle 
 for existence is abolished. Let them beware lest their 
 dreams make them unfit for real life. 
 
 There is another class of men who like such dream- 
 ers hanker after a state of peaceful enjoyment. Being 
 in possession of some worldly goods, they wish to 
 preserve them without being exposed to the constant 
 struggle for life, which forces them to be always alert 
 to keep abreast with competitors, and to progress with 
 the spirit of the time. These -men clamor for protec- 
 tion of national industry, they favor combinations, 
 trusts, and pools. A high tariff and strong trusts may 
 certainly for a time make business life easy in our 
 manufacturing-world, but in the long run it will weaken 
 it. Indeed, high tariffs and "combines" are (so I am 
 told, the greatest iron manufacturer of America said) 
 certain signs of weakness. I do not intend to discuss 
 politics here. A tariff may or may not be justified in 
 special cases for some reason or another. We might 
 indeed be obliged to wage a commercial war against 
 
fS DEATH A FINALITY? 411 
 
 England, or against Europe generally. Yet we must 
 bear in mind that if a country introduces tariffs for 
 protection, it must be considered as a time of educa- 
 tion ; it is the raising a child and bringing it up to 
 maturity. The purpose of each war is an honorable 
 peace, the purpose of school is practical life. The 
 purpose of a tariff for protection must be its abolition 
 in not too distant a time. 
 
 Let us not look for ease in this world unless it be 
 on the eve of a life that has been full of aspirations 
 and labor. There is no ease for those who wish to pro- 
 gress. And let us find satisfaction not in the pleasures 
 of life, but in the noble struggle for advancement and 
 amelioration. 
 
 Facts being as they are, we must adapt ourselves 
 to facts. If we do, we shall master them and govern 
 the course of nature. But our adaptation to facts must 
 not be from to-day to to-morrow, but so far as we can 
 see. It must be made from the standpoint of immor-. 
 tality, and with due regard for the unity of all life upon 
 earth and in consideration of the grand possibilities 
 and noble ideals of mankind. Here lies the basis of 
 ethical aspirations. 
 
THE COMMUNISM OF SOUL-LIFE. 
 
 THE nature of all soul-life, intellectual as well as 
 emotional, is founded upon communism. No growth of 
 ideas for any length of time is possible without com- 
 munication. It is the exchange of thought and mutual 
 criticism that produces intellectual progress. And it 
 is the warmth of a sympathetic heart which kindles 
 similar feelings in others. 
 
 With every sentence that you speak to others, a 
 part of your soul is transferred to them. And in their 
 souls your words may fall like seeds. Some may fall 
 by the wayside where the fowls come and devour them 
 up. Others may fall upon a rock where they have 
 not much earth. Some may fall among thorns which 
 will choke them. Yet some of them will fall upon 
 good ground : and the words will take root and grow 
 and bring forth fruit, some a hundred-fold, some sixty- 
 fold, some thirty-fold. 
 
 We may compare humanity to a coral plant. The 
 single corals are connected among themselves through 
 the canals in the branches from which they grow. No 
 one of them can prosper without supplying its neigh- 
 bors with the superabundance of its prosperity. The 
 main difference is that the communism of soul life is 
 much closer and more intimate, and the thinker who 
 freely gives away his spiritual treasures, unlike the 
 giver of material gifts, does not lose : he is rather 
 
COMMUNISM OF SOUL- LIFE. 413 
 
 the gainer, for spiritual possessions grow in importance 
 the more profusely they are imparted. The commoner 
 they are, the more powerful they become. 
 
 Every spiritual giving is a gaining ; it is a taking 
 possession of other peoples' minds. It is an expan- 
 sion, a transplantation of our thoughts, a psychic 
 growth beyond the narrow limits of our individual ex- 
 istence into other souls ; it is a rebuilding, a reconstruc- 
 tion of our own souls or of parts of our own souls, in 
 other souls. It is a transference of mind. Every con- 
 versation is an exchange of souls. Those whose souls 
 are 'flat, stale, and unprofitable,' cannot be expected 
 to overflow with deep thought. But those who are 
 rich in spiritual treasures will not, as misers, keep them 
 for themselves. For out of the abundance of the heart 
 the mouth speaketh, and spiritual treasures are not 
 wasted when imparted ; they are not lost, but put out 
 on usury, and will multiply and thus bring great re- 
 ward, although the reward be not personal profit to 
 ourselves. 
 
 Good and noble ideas, instructive truths, warm 
 words of good-will and sympathy will accomplish great 
 things. But evil words possess a similar power. 
 Strong characters will hear and reject evil words, but 
 weak minds will be poisoned by them. It is the great 
 consequence that speech draws with it, which de- 
 mands that before uttering it we should weigh every 
 word. Every idle word that men speak, says Christ, 
 they shall give account thereof in the day of judg- 
 ment. And the day of judgment takes place now and 
 here. The day of judgment is the time when every 
 action produces its natural results. Schiller says : 
 
 " Die Weltgeschichte, 
 1st das Weltgerichte." 
 
4 i4 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 " History is the judgment of nations," and the his- 
 tory of every person is his life and future fate. And 
 in addition to this fate during life-time, the day of 
 judgment is the blessing that later on will attend 
 every good deed and the curses that will inevitably 
 follow upon every bad action. 
 
 Who is so vile as to be indifferent to the effects of 
 his life after he has passed away ? Who is so base as 
 not to care whether the effects of his actions shall or 
 shall not prove a curse to humanity? We ought to 
 consider how posterity will judge of our actions after 
 we are gone and what we would think of ourselves 
 when, in the peaceful rest of the grave, we hope for 
 neither personal advantages nor disadvantages. 
 
 We ought to reason from the standpoint of the pro- 
 gressive spirit in a future humanity. These consider- 
 ations should be among the strongest of the motives 
 that determine our actions. 
 
 The communism of soul-life is not limited to the 
 present generation ; it extends to the past as well as to 
 the future. The present generation of humanity is 
 like the present generation of live corals who have 
 grown from, and rest upon, the work of former genera- 
 tions. The ancestors of the corals now on the surface 
 lived in the shallow places of the ocean, where the sun 
 made the waters warm and the surf afforded them suf- 
 ficient food ; and when in the lapse of time through 
 terrestrial changes the bottom on which they had set- 
 tled, sank slowly deeper and deeper, they built higher 
 and higher, and in this way they managed to keep 
 near the surface. The branches in the cold deep wa- 
 ters are now dead ; yet they furnish a solid basis to 
 the coral life above, where the sun shines and the 
 currents of the surf pass to and fro. 
 
COMMUNISM OF SOUL- LIFE. 415 
 
 If the corals could think and speak, I wonder 
 whether the living generation on the surface would 
 not rail at the corals in the cold deep below ! At least 
 the present human generation very often does. Those 
 who feel the necessity of progress, who wish humanity 
 to remain uppermost and to rise higher, are apt to 
 overlook the merits of their ancestors ; they observe 
 that the ideas of former generations are antiquated and 
 do no longer fit into the present time. Thus they 
 brand the old views as superstitions and forget that 
 the views of the present generation have developed 
 from the old, and that they stand upon their ancestors' 
 work. It would seem as if the dead corals in the cold 
 dreary deep must have been always unfit for life ; yet 
 there was a time when their coral homes thrilled with 
 life ; and so there was a time when the superstitions of 
 to-day were true science and true religion although 
 they are now dreary and cold. 
 
 Where is the coral life of the past ? Has it disap- 
 peared ? It has not disappeared; but continued, and 
 its continuation is the coral life of to-day. So the 
 humanity of former generations has not disappeared. 
 The life of humanity continued, and lo ! it is present 
 in every one of us. We may reproach our ancestors 
 for mistakes, but whenever we reproach them, we re- 
 proach ourselves. 
 
 We wish to be individuals, and flatter ourselves 
 that we are quite original.- Goethe explains in a little 
 poem that the different features of his character are de- 
 rived from his parents and grandparents. All together 
 make up his character. He concludes : 
 
 " Since from the complex you cannot 
 The elements extract. 
 
416 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 What is in man, that will remain 
 Original in fact."* 
 
 It is vanity to think that we are something by our- 
 selves. By vanity we understand a conceit which at- 
 taches a special value to Self. It is an inflation of the 
 ego, of a something which is erroneously supposed to 
 be quite individual and original. This pride is always 
 ridiculous, because Self by itself is a mere nothing : it 
 is a hollow bubble ; and pride of Self is therefore cor- 
 rectly called vanity, which means emptiness: Our 
 spiritual existence is an inheritance. We are a " tra- 
 dition," as Goethe says in another little poem, in 
 which he depicts the vanity of the boast to rid one- 
 self of tradition. He says : 
 
 " Would from tradition free myself, 
 Original I'd be t 
 Yet great the undertaking is 
 And trouble it heaps on me. 
 
 " Were I indigenous, I should 
 Consider the honor high, 
 But strange enough ! it is the truth, 
 Tradition myself am I." 
 
 ["Gernwar ich Ueberliefrung los 
 
 Und ganz original ; 
 Doch ist das Unternehmen gross 
 Und fiihrt zu mancher Qual. 
 
 * Of this poem the beginning is better known than its conclusion. It reads 
 in the original : 
 
 " Vom Vater hab' ich die Statur, 
 Des Lebens ernstes Fuhren, 
 Von Miitterchen die Frohnatur 
 Und Lust zu fabuliren. 
 
 Urahnherr war der Schonsten hold, 
 
 Das spukt so hin und wieder, 
 Urahnfrau liebte Schmuck und Gold, 
 
 Das zuckt wohl durch die Glieder. 
 
 Sind nun die Elemente nicht 
 
 Aus dem Complex zu trennen, 
 Was ist denn an dem ganzen Wicht 
 
 Original zu nennen ? 
 
COMMUNISM OF SOUL- LIFE. 417 
 
 Als Autochthone rechnet' ich 
 
 Es mir zur hochsten Ehre, 
 Wenn ich nicht gar zu wunderlich 
 
 Selbst Ueberliefrung ware."] 
 
 There is nothing in us, but we owe it to humanity ; 
 for all soul-life is based upon communism. We can- 
 not entirely escape its evil consequences, but neither 
 can we entirely forfeit its blessings, and the blessings 
 are greater than its curses. 
 
SOUL-LIFE AND THE PRESERVATION OF FORM. 
 
 MAN is not the sum of the material particles of 
 which at any given moment he consists. Every man is 
 a special form that has taken shape in matter ; and 
 the material particles are not the really essential 
 elements that make him what he is. A man might 
 have eaten the meat intended for his dog, and the 
 dog might have gotten the piece that his master 
 ate. And so, too, the dog might have breathed the 
 air that the man breathed, and vice versa. But that 
 would have made no difference in the assimilation by 
 each of the material particles in question. In man's 
 stomach they go through the process of being changed 
 into human flesh and blood, while that nutriment on 
 which an animal has fed will become part of the 
 animal. 
 
 This appears wonderful , and yet the principle 
 obviously accords with the simple law of mechanics. 
 Materials can be shaped, mechanically, into certain 
 forms. The shape of a bronze figure depends upon 
 the mould into which the metal is poured, and the 
 products of a machine, be they nails, or pins, or 
 needles, or books, or newspapers, or hardware, de- 
 pend upon the mechanism of the machine. The form 
 of the machine produces a special form of movement, 
 for the movement of the cogs and wheels will follow 
 the grooves and other mechanical contrivances ; and 
 
PRESER VA TION OF FORM. 4 1 9 
 
 upon the form of the movements necessarily the form 
 of the product depends. 
 
 The process of changing food into flesh and blood 
 is immeasurably more complicated than the work of a 
 machine, yet the basis of mechanical law is the same 
 in both. The difference of form in the product can 
 depend solely upon the difference of the mechanisms. 
 In the living mechanisms of organized substances, in 
 plants, in animals and in man, we can, with the 
 microscopical methods at our disposal, recognize the 
 rudest and roughest features only of the mechanical 
 differences in the innumerable parts which contribute 
 to shape the sap of trees and the blood of animals. 
 And these differences of form are the problems of 
 scientific investigation. We can appreciate the differ- 
 ences in the result, (say for instance between an animal 
 brain and a human brain,) we know also much about 
 the conditions which produced these different results, 
 yet we know little about the mechanical details of or- 
 ganisms, i. e., how the living machines of animals and 
 plants assimilate food. But we have sufficient evi- 
 dence to believe, that the process is in full agreement 
 with mechanical laws, and that the problem is merely 
 a problem of form. 
 
 Man's soul does not consist of matter ; nor can it 
 be a substance like matter, such as are fluids or gaseous 
 and ether-like substances. Conceptions, that mate- 
 rialize the soul, are the materialistic views of spirit- 
 ists. It is not matter which makes of us that which 
 we are, it is not substance, but form ; and the forma- 
 tion of a man's life does not commence with his birth, 
 nor does it end with his death. 
 
 Our material existence is constantly changing, and 
 yet we remain the same persons to-day that we were 
 
4.20 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 yesterday. How is this? It is because man's life 
 consists not of his material presence alone, but of his 
 formal being, and his formal being shows relatively 
 more continuity than his material existence. There is 
 a law of the conservation of matter and energy, but 
 there is another law of no less importance, which I 
 will call the law of the preservation of form. 
 
 We call it preservation and not conservation, in 
 order to mark the difference between the two laws. 
 Matter and energy are indestructible, but all special 
 forms are destructible, they are not conserved in their 
 kind or amount. Yet they are preserved; they remain 
 as they are according to the law of inertia until changes 
 take place which do not destroy the present forms, 
 but which alter them in the measure that special causes 
 affect them. The old form is in a certain sense fully 
 preserved even in a most radical change, for the old 
 form is one of the elements in the change. It maybe 
 destroyed in all that gives value to it ; its trace can be- 
 come infinitesimal; yet being one of the factors in 
 causation it can never be blotted out entirely. 
 
 The changeability of form constitutes what we call 
 evolution. Evolution indeed means ' change of form 
 according to certain laws.' Laws of form are geomet- 
 rically demonstrable, and laws of the changes of form 
 can be ultimately accounted for with mathematical 
 precision. 
 
 In Dr. Johannes Ranke's most excellent work on 
 anthropology* man and mankind are compared to a 
 wave. A wave appears to the eye as a material unit. 
 Its form travels along on the surface of the water, ever 
 one and the same ; but its substance is constantly 
 changing. It is the mere expression of a number of 
 
 * Dr. Johannes Ranke: Der Mensch, p. i. 
 
PRESER VA TION OF FORM. 42 1 
 
 rhythmical motions, and there are not two consecutive 
 moments in which the constituent particles are the 
 same. The drops which one moment are seized by the 
 approaching wave, rise in the next to its crest and 
 then glide gently back on the other side of the billow 
 to the quiet surface of the ocean. 
 
 The body of the wave is formed by the particles of 
 water which enter into and pass through the wave. 
 Similarly the human body, like a wave of water, is a 
 certain form of rhythmical motions. Material elements, 
 the air we breathe, the food we take, are seized upon, 
 only to pass through and leave the body, whose form 
 continues and appears to the uninitiated as the same 
 material unit. 
 
 The same simile is true of mankind as a whole. 
 The activity of the human race, as we observe it in 
 history, rolls onward like a huge wave over the surface 
 of the habitable globe. It incorporates and transforms 
 the organic materials in its way only to give them 
 back to the ocean of unorganized material existence 
 from which they were taken. In the onward course 
 of human evolution, the generations of which it con- 
 sists rise into existence and sink back as the wave of 
 humanity rolls on. The generation of to-day is differ- 
 ent from the generations of former centuries, but 
 humanity is one continuous whole throughout all of 
 them. It began with the origin of life on our planet, 
 and its onward movement will continue as long as the 
 organic substance of the earth can afford sufficient 
 material to renew its form. 
 
 In all the material changes that organized bodies 
 undergo, there is a preservation of their forms. An 
 impression once made will remain, as a wound once 
 received will preserve the scar. The new formation 
 
422 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 of the ever changing tissues will be made in the shape 
 which they possess. Scars will in time become in- 
 visible, but they will never be effaced entirely. A sen- 
 sation that has been once perceived will leave some 
 trace in the tissues of the living brain, and the form 
 of this trace will not be effaced amid the change of 
 matter that the nervous substance constantly under- 
 goes. It will be preserved ; and as soon as, through 
 the stimulus of nervous action, it is again excited, the 
 sensation will be revived, although it will be weaker 
 than it was when it first impressed itself. If the sen- 
 sation be strong enough it will be felt again, and may 
 be accompanied more or less intensely with conscious- 
 ness. Thus the preservation of form accounts for 
 the continuity of memory. 
 
 The identity of memory-structures does not de- 
 pend upon an identity of the very same material par- 
 ticles, but upon an identity of form in tissues of the 
 same kind. Nervous substance is the most unstable, 
 and its material changes are the most rapid of all. It 
 is therefore all but impossible that in the constant flux 
 of matter, the continuance of memory should be at- 
 tached to the material particles. It is a continuance 
 of form only, just as a fountain preserves its form du- 
 ring the uninterrupted change of the water. The 
 fountain-jet remains the same and we consider it in 
 different moments as the same not otherwise than 
 ourselves, because in the flux of its material constitu- 
 ents, its form remains constant. 
 
 The solution of the problem of memory, accord- 
 ingly, solves the problem of the personality of man 
 also. The personality of man and the continuity of 
 his soul-life, can find their explanation only in the 
 preservation of all the living forms of his organism. 
 
PRESERVATION OF FORM. 423 
 
 Supposing that all motions of material elements are 
 accompanied by elements of feeling, we then under- 
 stand how feeling, as a special combination of its ele- 
 ments under special circumstances can originate in 
 organized substance. Further, we understand how 
 from simple and dim feelings specialized sensations 
 evolve as a kind of articulated feeling, and these 
 sensations naturally become representatives of the 
 objects which occasion them. When we notice in 
 a number of sensations their common features, and ob- 
 serve their differences, we begin to think, and we learn 
 to classify things around us under abstract terms. 
 Thus we understand how the soul of man with its 
 wonderful structures rises into existence, building one 
 tier above the other, and culminating in an organ of 
 co-ordination which makes a comparison and unifica- 
 tion of all the elements of soul-life possible. 
 
 Man's soul was formed in the course of the evo- 
 lution of the human race, by the reactions upon the 
 external influences of the surrounding world, and the 
 present man is the outcome of the entire activity of his 
 ancestors. Thus every one of us can say with Christ : 
 "Before Abraham was, I am." Every one of us be- 
 gan his life with the beginning of all life upon earth. 
 We are the generation in which the huge billow of 
 human life now culminates. We, ourselves, are that 
 billow, our real self, our spiritual existence will con- 
 tinue to progress in that great wave. 
 
 Our existence after death will not merely be a 
 dissolution into the All, where all individual features 
 of our spiritual existence are destroyed. Our exist- 
 ence after death will be a continuance of our individ- 
 ual spirituality, a continuance of our thoughts and 
 ideals. As sure as the law of cause and effect is true, 
 
424 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 so sure is the continuance of soul-life even after the 
 death of the individual according to the law of the 
 preservation of form. 
 
THE OLD AND NEW PSYCHOLOGY. 
 
 WHEN the wonderful workings of electricity were 
 first discovered, electricity was considered as a sub- 
 stance, as a kind of an ethereal fluid that permeated 
 bodies. And the very terms used by our scientists 
 to-day still show traces of this error. We now con- 
 ceive electricity to be a certain mode of motion rap- 
 idly transmitted from atom to atom, we no 'longer be- 
 lieve in a special electrical substance that flows through 
 bodies ; and yet we retain the expression "electrical 
 current." 
 
 The scientists of former ages were wrong with 
 regard to the scientific understanding of the na- 
 ture of electricity ; but in spite of their errors they 
 formulated various laws that held good even after 
 the error was corrected. The idea that electricity is 
 a current served as a simile, which in many respects 
 is so appropriate that even now our professors have 
 to fall back on it in their explanations and probably 
 always will, although they have to add the special 
 warning not to take the simile for more than it is 
 worth. 
 
 Suppose that in former centuries you had come 
 upon two opposed views, the one of a scientist who 
 declared that electricity existed as a substance, and 
 the other of a man who maintained that electricity 
 could not possibly be a substance, and that it did not 
 
426 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 exist at all. On which side would there have been 
 more truth ? Unquestionably on the former. 
 
 Now the old psychology of former centuries con- 
 sidered the soul as consisting of a special substance, 
 a kind of ethereal fluid endowed with several mys- 
 tical qualities. Modern psychology, not unlike mod- 
 ern science in other fields, now comes to the conclu- 
 sion that there is no special soul-substance ; the soul 
 is but a special form of life. The old psychologists, 
 however, were not entirely wrong, for they committed 
 an error that was natural in the evolution of psycho- 
 logical truths. Their views were after all more cor- 
 rect than the views of their adversaries, who, objecting 
 to the existence of a soul substance, denied the ex- 
 istence of the soul altogether. The old psychologists 
 discovered some of the laws of soul-life, and also de- 
 rived from them certain principles which they laid 
 down as rules of moral conduct and which will remain 
 true forever. 
 
 There is a strange objection made to the new view 
 of modern psychology. " If the soul," it is said, " is 
 no entity, but the form of living and feeling substance, 
 how can you speak of the importance of soul-life ? 
 The declaration that the soul is not a substance is 
 equivalent to the statement that the soul does not 
 exist." 
 
 Are we to say of a flame that it does not exist be- 
 cause we have ceased to believe in a special fire-stuff, 
 the phlogiston, which some time ago was supposed 
 to be a substance endowed with certain mysterious 
 qualities that manifested themselves in the phenome- 
 non of a flame? Is a flame not a reality also to us 
 who know that fire is a special form of motion. 
 
 The old psychologists who to-day still form the 
 
THE OLD AND NEW PSYCHOLOGY. 427 
 
 majority and of whom many will survive for a long 
 time to come, look upon the new view with suspicion 
 and say that it is a psychologyrwithout a soul, that is 
 to say, without a soul consisting of soul-stuff. So the 
 old physicists with the same plausibility might have ob- 
 jected to modern physicists that according to their 
 conception, flames are fire without fire-stuff. And is 
 it not strange that the old psychologists arraign the 
 modern view as materialistic ? Is not rather the old 
 view materialistic, which conceives the spiritual as a 
 substance a kind of ethereal and purified matter? 
 We however regard the new view as a redemption 
 from the cruder and materialistic conception of soul- 
 life. 
 
 The physicians of the soul are the ethical teachers 
 of mankind. The task of a Confucius, of a Buddha, 
 of a Christ, was the practical psychology of soul-pre- 
 servation, and it is natural that experience should 
 have taught them many important truths, which, as 
 represented by every one of the great moral teachers, 
 agree among themselves almost as much as arithmetic 
 in English agrees with arithmetic in French and Ger- 
 man. There can be no doubt that in many respects 
 these ethical teachers, and more so their disciples, 
 were greatly mistaken as to the nature of the soul. 
 Nevertheless we inherited from them spiritual treas- 
 ures more valuable than material wealth. By these 
 spiritual treasures we mean chiefly the ethical truths 
 which in the change of position caused by a progress 
 of the science of the soul, remain intact and will find 
 corrections in unessential points only. 
 
 The progress of psychology however is marked by 
 the fact, that while the moral truths had to be looked 
 upon in former times as unexplainable, and thus were 
 
428 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 supposed to be of supernatural origin, we now can 
 show their natural growth and base them upon a 
 strictly scientific foundation. 
 
 Modern psychology must recognize the truth that 
 it is developed from the old psychology. Although 
 the new view stands in one essential point in vivid 
 contrast with the old view, the new is the legitimate 
 outcome from the old, not otherwise than modern 
 chemistry is from the old phlogistum chemistry; and 
 modern psychology has accordingly the right and the 
 duty to enter upon the inheritance of the spiritual treas- 
 ures gathered by its ancestors. 
 
THE PSYCHOLOGICAL PROBLEM AND 
 RELIGION. 
 
 BY religion must be understood a conception of the 
 universe that shall serve as a guide through life, as a 
 regulative principle of conduct, as a basis of ethics. 
 There are, accordingly, two elements in religion : tne 
 one of knowledge, the other of action. It is necessary 
 that we have a knowledge of what the world is in 
 which we live, and of what the laws are that consti- 
 tute its cosmic order. This knowledge must find a 
 practical application. It must encourage us to submit 
 willingly to that which is necessary, however hard it 
 may be, and to comply cheerfully with the demands 
 that are founded in the nature of things. 
 
 Our view of the world for religious purposes need 
 not be the accurate science of the naturalist; a concep- 
 tion of the universe in most general outlines is suffi- 
 cient. Yet we must not forget that a clear and definite 
 idea of the sociological law that regulates the relations 
 between man and man and thus produces human 
 society, is the most important and indispensable part 
 of it. The laws of nature, in this sense, include the 
 laws of spiritual, emotional, and intellectual soul life. 
 
 Since natural laws remain the same, from eternity 
 to eternity, it is thus apparent that religion has in it 
 an element of immutability which makes it impossible 
 that there can be more than one true religion. Yet 
 
430 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 since man's knowledge of natural laws has to undergo 
 a constant evolution, his religious ideals, consequently, 
 also grow and expand step by step with his scientific 
 progress. And religious progress has always lagged 
 and still lags a little behind scientific progress ; for 
 moral instructors are necessarily of a conservative turn 
 of mind and slow to accept new truths which have not 
 as yet passed through all the crucial tests of a critical 
 examination. 
 
 Luther certainly was a progressive spirit, a bold 
 and courageous man, who for the sake of truth feared 
 neither the fagot of the inquisition nor the ban of the 
 Pope. And yet how narrow-minded was Luther's 
 opinion of his great countryman and contemporary, 
 Copernicus. We read in Luther's Table Talk: 
 
 " Mention was made of a contemporary astrologus who wanted 
 to prove that the earth moved and turned about, but not the 
 Heavens, nor the Firmament, nor Sun, nor Moon ; just as when 
 a person is seated in a wagon or on a boat and is in motion, and 
 fancies he is sitting still and at rest while the earth and trees do 
 seem to pass along and be in motion. But the whole matter is just 
 this : whensoever a person means to be clever, he must perforce 
 make up something of his own, which has to be the best that is, 
 just as he makes it. This fool will upset the whole Science 
 Astronomic. But the holy Scriptures tell us, Joshua bade the Sun 
 stand still and not the Earth." 
 
 It is perhaps natural that every new discovery in 
 science should apparently threaten to destroy the very 
 basis of religion. But it turns out quite different as 
 soon as men's minds get accustomed to the new con- 
 ception of things. What has been destroyed by sci- 
 ence, it then appears, was after all a childish error 
 only. The world becomes greater and grander through 
 an expansion of our conception of the world, and re- 
 
PSYCHOLOGY AND RELIGION. 431 
 
 ligion reaps the fruit of the scientist's work ; religion 
 is purified, spiritualized, and meliorated. 
 
 At the present time a new problem is again pre- 
 sented to religion a problem which ought not and 
 cannot be blinked by the clergy. This problem shakes 
 our religious conceptions to their foundation, for it 
 concerns the object and purpose of all religious work 
 the human soul. Religion being a guide through life 
 and a regulative principle of conduct, what is it but a 
 means devised for the salvation of souls? 
 
 Modern psychology throws a new light upon the 
 nature of the soul. The soul was in former times and 
 is still by many people conceived to be a mysterious 
 being that is in possession of a certain stock of ideas. 
 This mysterious being, the centre of man's spiritual ex- 
 istence, is called the Ego or the Me ; it- is the subject in 
 the "I think," the agent that does the thinking ; and the 
 assumption of this ego has constituted the corner-stone 
 of the most prominent philosophies since Descartes. 
 Descartes pronounced the famous dictum Cogito ergo 
 sum "I think, therefore I am" ; and this sentence has 
 for two centuries been considered as the axiom of 
 philosophy. Yet Kant objected to its so-called self- 
 evidence. He denounced it as a fallacy. The existence 
 cf the I or Ego, which is to be proved in the conclusion 
 ergo ego sum, says Kant, has been assumed in the 
 premise ego cogito. 
 
 Kant who owes so much to David Hume most 
 likely followed a hint of the great Scottish thinker who 
 said : 
 
 ' ' As for me, whenever I contemplate what is- inmost in what I 
 call my own self, I always come in contact with such or such spe- 
 cial perception as of cold, heat, light or shadow, love or hate, 
 pleasure or pain. I never come unawares upon my mind existing 
 
432 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 in a state void of perceptions : I never observe aught save percep- 
 tion If any one, after serious reflection and without preju- 
 dices, thinks he has any other idea of himself, I confess that I can 
 reason no longer with him. The best I can say for him is that per- 
 haps he is right no less than I, and that on this point our natures 
 are essentially different. It is possible that he may perceive some- 
 thing simple and permanent which he calls himself, but as for me 
 I am quite sure I possess no such principle." 
 
 Hume's view is a negation of the ego as a constant 
 and immutable centre of the soul. The soul is recog- 
 nized as a combination of many ideas, and the ultimate 
 elements of soul-life are the simple feelings of nervous 
 irritations with the reflex-actions resulting therefrom. 
 The centre of our soul-life, the present state of con- 
 sciousness or the subject of the act of thinking, is not at 
 all a mysterious agent distinct from the different ideas 
 that are thought, but it is the very idea itself that is 
 thought. The ego is not a constant and immutable cen- 
 tre, but it shifts about and brings into active play, 
 now this and now that concept or wish ; so that now 
 this and now another feeling, or thought, or desire is 
 awakened and stirred into prominence. 
 
 We distinguish between the ego, or the present 
 state of consciousness, in its continuity with former as 
 well as future states of consciousness, and the con- 
 cept of our own personality. The idea of our own 
 personality is a complex conception of our bodily form, 
 of our past experiences, and of all our future inten- 
 tions. It is comprised under the little pronoun " I ". 
 The idea of one's own personality is among all the 
 ideas of a man perhaps the most important one, 
 because of its constant recurrence. Yet we must 
 bear in mind that as an idea it is not different from 
 any other idea, representing other personalities or 
 objects in the surrounding universe. If this con- 
 
PSYCHOLOGY AND RELIGION. 433 
 
 cept of one's own personality is stirred in a man in 
 combination with the idea of a certain work which is 
 carried out by his hands, the thought rises in his brain, 
 "I am doing this," or "I am thinking this," "I am 
 planning this." In such a case, accordingly, the ego 
 of a man happens to coincide at the moment with the 
 idea of his personality. At the next moment, how- 
 ever, he may have forgotten all about himself, i. e., 
 about his personality; and his ego, i. e., the present 
 state of his consciousness, may be wholly absorbed in 
 his work. For instance, he is felling a tree and 
 thinks, Will it fall to the right or to the left ? His ego, 
 in that case, resides in the contemplation of the tree 
 before him which is combined with the consideration 
 as to where it is likely to break down. There is not 
 an ego which thinks of the tree in its special predica- 
 ment, but the idea of the tree is the ego at that mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Lichtenberg very wittily remarked : "We should 
 say, 'It thinks,' just as well as we say 'It lightens,' 
 or 'It rains.' In saying cogito the philosopher goes 
 too far if he translates it ' I think. ' " 
 
 This conception of the nature of man's ego has 
 been generally accepted by psychologists. The recent 
 investigations of experimental psychology carried on in 
 France by Charcot, Th, Ribot, Alfred Binet, and 
 others, and of physiological psychology in Germany, in- 
 augurated by Fechner, and perfected by Wundt and 
 his school, have only served to corroborate the funda- 
 mental truth of the fact that there is no independent 
 ego aside from the various thoughts of a man. Man's 
 mind is a society of ideas, of which now 'the one and 
 now the other constitutes his ego. 
 
 This discovery appears at first sight appalling. It 
 
434 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 destroys, it would seem, the human soul itself, and it 
 is not at all astonishing that the clergy are shocked, 
 that they abhor the outcome of psychical researches 
 and speak of the new psychology as "a psychology 
 without a soul." 
 
 .It is not at all astonishing that people and espe- 
 cially the clergy are shocked ; for the situation in our 
 scientific conception of the soul is as thoroughly al- 
 tered as our conception of the universe was in the 
 times of Copernicus when the geocentric standpoint 
 had to be abandoned. It took some time ere people 
 could accustom themselves to the idea that they whirled 
 through space with a rotatory motion of nineteen miles 
 a secpnd. When trying to think of it they became 
 dizzy ; Nature appeared to be deprived of her dignity, 
 for if matters were as Copernicus said, all fixedness, 
 all solidity and stability seemed lost forever in the 
 material as well as in the moral world. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Modern psychology will influence the religious de- 
 velopment of humanity in no less a degree than did 
 modern astronomy. At first sight the new truth seems 
 to destroy the soul itself ; but it does not. It destroys 
 a false view only of the ego. 
 
 To those who have not as yet fully grasped the 
 new conception it appears difficult to renounce the 
 ego-centric standpoint. However, a closer acquaint- 
 ance with the modern solution of the problems of soul- 
 life shows that instead of destroying religion they 
 place it upon a firmer foundation than it ever before 
 possessed. 
 
 The new psychology destroys the dualistic view 
 of the soul. The soul has ceased to be something in- 
 dependent of and distinct from psychical activity. 
 
PSYCHOLOGY AND RELIGION. 435 
 
 The new view is monistic : it regards the soul as iden- 
 tical with its activity ; the human soul consists of man's 
 feelings and thoughts, his fears and hopes, his wishes 
 and ideals. 
 
 With the psychology of dualism an individualistic 
 error is destroyed. The soul ceases to be identical with 
 the ego, and the individual can no longer be considered 
 as ' the little God upon earth ' for whom all things are 
 created, who from the moment of birth will remain 
 unchanged into eternity. He is no longer the myste- 
 rious agent behind the many different phenomena of 
 psychic growth and soul-life. But while destroying 
 this metaphysical superstition, modern psychology 
 does not at all deprive the human soul of its worth, 
 its dignity, and its nobility. The human soul remains 
 as great and noble, as precious and holy, as it ever was. 
 This wonderful organism of innumerable ideas, of sen- 
 timents, longings, hopes and fears, wishes, desires, 
 aspirations, and ideals that reside within man's brain, 
 is the highest and grandest phenomenon of nature 
 upon earth ; and the moral aim of constant!)' improv- 
 ing and elevating the soul of man is rather helped 
 than hindered by the new insight gained through psy- 
 chological investigation. 
 
 Science never comes to destroy. On the contrary, 
 it comes to purify. Thus the new psychology frees 
 our conception of the human soul from an error which 
 was the root of the belief in witchcraft and of many 
 other evils. We must expect that a better under- 
 standing of the facts of psychology will be beneficial 
 in all other fields of human activity and thought. The 
 solution of the most important psychological problem 
 will help us to solve other problems of a properly re- 
 ligious, social and socialistic, philosophical and scien- 
 
436 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 tific nature. It will advance humanity along the 
 whole line of its brave army of progressive aspirers. 
 
 Truth seems to injure morality so long only as we 
 have not as yet fully grasped the truth. Half truths 
 may be dangerous, but the whole truth will ever serve 
 to purify and to ameliorate. The psychical problem 
 is a new crisis through which religion has to pass, and 
 it is to be hoped that in the struggle between the old 
 view and the modern view, between the popular and 
 dualistic conception on the one side, and the scientific 
 and monistic conception on the other side, religion will 
 come out not only unbruised and unimpaired, but even 
 greater and nobler and truer than it ever has been 
 before. Religion, in so far as it will progress with the 
 general progress of science, must lose all sectarian- 
 ism, all anti-scientific narrowmindedness, and broaden 
 into a cosmic religion. This cosmic religion will be a 
 natural religion, because it is founded upon the laws 
 of nature. It will be the Religion of Science, because 
 its truth rests upon scientific evidence. It will be 
 the only orthodox religion destined to become catho- 
 lic among all thinking mankind orthodox and catho- 
 lic in the etymological and proper meaning of those 
 words. 
 
 The time of this religion is not as yet come ; but 
 come it must. At present we can only give encour- 
 agement not to shrink from investigation, but to in- 
 quire boldly into the basic problem of human exist- 
 ence, of moral ideals, and of religious aspirations. 
 
 Never fear truth, be it at first sight ever so alarm- 
 ing ; truth will always lead to higher planes, to 
 grander views, to nobler deeds. 
 
THE SOUL OF THE UNIVERSE. 
 
 IF we understand by the "soul of a thing" the 
 formative principle which gave and still gives shape 
 to it so as to make it the thing it is, we use the word 
 soul in quite a legitimate yet in a broader sense than 
 is usual. * The laws that rule the changes and forma- 
 tions in the world, are not material things, yet they 
 are realities nevertheless. When we call them reali- 
 ties, we do not mean that they are entities which exist 
 of themselves, nor are they mysterious powers outside 
 of or behind things. They are in the things and are 
 part of the things ; and it is through the mental pro- 
 cess of abstraction that we acquire an insight into them. 
 
 The universe does not consist of matter alone, but 
 of the relations among things, the forms of things, and 
 their changes, also. The so-called laws are formulas 
 only, abstracted from many instances and summing up 
 their common features, so as to enable us to recognize 
 in a general survey the regularity that prevails in the 
 innumerable variations of all the particular and special 
 cases. Although the relations among things and their 
 forms are not palpable concrete objects, they are of 
 greatest concern, for it is the form that makes a thing 
 what it is. The form is the soul of the thing, and the 
 possibility of all higher life, all intellectual existence, 
 and all ethical aspirations depends upon the evolutions 
 of forms. The practicability of ideals rests upon the 
 
 * As a rule we understand by " Soul " the form of action in feeling sub- 
 stance. 
 
438 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 feasibility of a new arrangement of things, upon the 
 possibility of a re-formation of ourselves as well as the 
 world around us. 
 
 Taking this view of the importance of form and 
 using the word soul to signify the formative factors of 
 the various forms and their relations that have been 
 evolved and constantly are evolving and re-evolving ; 
 we are naturally led to the conception of a soul of the 
 universe. The soul of the universe we call God. 
 
 God, accordingly, is to be conceived as the law 
 that shaped and is still shaping the world, that is 
 forming and ever re-forming, evolving and ever re- 
 evolving the universe. God is the factor that produced 
 the solar system out of the concourse and whirl of the 
 nebula. God is the factor that created vegetable and 
 animal life upon earth. He is the light of mentality 
 that flashes up in consciousness and finds its divinest 
 expression in the clear thought of articulate speech. 
 God is the moral law that binds human society and 
 leads it to ever grander ideals, to always higher goals 
 and aspirations. God in one word is the sursum that 
 everywhere animates nature, the upward and forward 
 tendency that manifests itself in the natural growth 
 of things and in the progress of evolution. 
 
 If after millions of millenniums long after the time 
 when humanity, tired of life, has disappeared from 
 the earth the solar-system should break to pieces 
 and be scattered as cosmic dust among the other solar 
 systems of the universe, our present world would be 
 destroyed, but its life would not be extinct. The 
 scattered parts would roam about through cosmic space 
 as comets. Some of such comets, rushing, the one 
 upon the other, according to the law of gravitation, 
 wottld blaze out in a gorgeous conflagration and produce 
 
THE SOUL OF THE UNIVERSE. 439 
 
 a new centre of attraction for the cosmic dust that is 
 to be gathered in the new-forming nebula. God does 
 not die with the break-up of a solar system. The 
 formative power of the universe will prove itself active 
 again and again. It is a living presence indestruct- 
 ible and eternal. The formative law of the world is 
 as eternal as are matter and energy. 
 
 In approaching the idea of God from this side we 
 gain more than one advantage over all the methods 
 employed by other philosophers and theologians. The 
 greatest advantage I deem to be, that we need not 
 give up the principle of Positivism (as explained in 
 a former article of this book) ; we need not leave 
 the secure and firm ground of positive facts. God as 
 defined by us is no mere fancy of our mind, no crea- 
 ture of our imagination. He is a reality of actual life, 
 a reality whose presence in the universe is as unde- 
 niable as the quality of gravity in matter, and whose 
 manifestation is as demonstrable as the correctness of 
 the rule (a + ) 2 = a 2 + 2 ab -f b* in mathematics. \ 
 
 We may mention points of secondary advantage 
 also. By conceiving God as we do, we enter the 
 domain of science and can state, according to scien- 
 tific methods, what God is like, and what he is not 
 like. We propose positive issues which can be in- 
 vestigated and discussed impartially sine ira ac studio. 
 We can arrive at results based upon scientific inquiry, 
 results that are beyond the trivial impositions of private 
 opinions and personal authorities. Private opinions, 
 suggestive thoughts, sermons full of sentiment, be 
 they ever so ingenious and beautiful, are after all 
 empty talk and vain repetitions. 
 
 Thus we get rid of the useless controversies with 
 atheists as well as with dogmatists ; the latter stating 
 
440 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 a-priori that by an act of special revelation they are in 
 possession of the only true idea of God, and the former 
 stating a-priori that there is no God, because they do 
 not believe in the God of the dogmatists. 
 
 The objection may be made that God as here de- 
 fined is no God, but a natural law ; that he is a principle 
 of all-importance, but not necessarily a deity, as -are 
 the gods worshiped by Heathens and Mohammedans 
 and Christians. To this objection we answer, that 
 whether we name the creative, i. e., the formative, 
 factor of the world God or not, whether we call it the 
 soul of the universe or anything else, it remains as 
 it is, and indeed it remains of equal all- importance. 
 For it is that formative power, that creative principle, 
 that life-giving law, in which, as St. Paul beautifully 
 says, we live and move and have our being. 
 
 The words "God" and "Nature," as I use the 
 terms, are not identical, yet I would say that God and 
 Nature are inseparable, they are one indivisible whole. 
 
 When we speak of "Nature," we think of the 
 world with reference to its physical laws chiefly. We 
 see before our mental eye mountains and forests, min- 
 erals and plants, animals and men, and human insti- 
 tutions, from which the word Nature has been ab- 
 stracted and which embraces them all. But if we 
 speak of "God," we think chiefly of those facts of 
 nature's life that are at the bottom of its evolution, of 
 those facts that have produced all that is great and 
 noble and good, for they are the conditions still of our 
 ideal aspirations and make their realization possible. 
 
 God and Nature were formerly considered as two 
 separate beings. We now look upon them as being 
 one. God, accordingly, means Nature, or the Cos- 
 mos, or the All, or the Universe considered in its 
 
THE SOUL OF THE UNIVERSE. 441 
 
 ethical importance, considered as that power which 
 works out our future and as a matter of fact, con- 
 stantly elevates, enhances, and ennobles life. This 
 power is no unknown or unknowable thing ; the laws 
 of its manifestation are perfectly ascertainable, and a 
 society in which these laws are not obeyed, will hope- 
 lessly rot away and perish. 
 
 Nature and God, as we conceive them, are ideas 
 equal in their circumscription. They cover the same 
 field of facts ; yet they are different in so far as each 
 of the two expressions makes different features more 
 prominent. 
 
 The words "my house," "my residence," "my 
 home," are three expressions, it may be, for the very 
 same thing to a man who owns the building in which 
 he lives. Yet each of these words makes a different 
 feature more prominent without positively excluding 
 the others. He says "My house" when thinking 
 of it as the building he owns ; he says " My residence " 
 when thinking of it as the rooms in which he resides, 
 and he says " My home " when thinking of the seat of 
 his family-relations and all the pleasant remembrances 
 connected therewith. For different purposes we would 
 employ different expressions, and yet in reality they 
 may signify one and the same thing. 
 
 Thus also, God and Nature are one, and yet they 
 are different. God is nature, and nature is God. Yet 
 by nature we understand God's life and manifestations 
 in their roughest outline only, in so far as they are 
 palpable to every living being. By God, however, we 
 mean more than the word Nature conveys ; we mean 
 chiefly the still and grand and powerful workings of 
 nature, almost invisible to mortal eye, yet plainly per- 
 
442 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ceptible to the knowing, in their awful majesty and 
 holiness. 
 
 * * 
 
 We have after a long consideration adopted, or 
 rather re-adopted, the word God as a signification of 
 this highest reality in the world, for there is no con- 
 ception of God, be it ever so pagan and anthropomor- 
 phic, that does not contain a noticeable endeavor to 
 express this our idea of the world-soul, of the creative 
 principle of the cosmos and the life of the cosmos. 
 The idea of God signifies at the same time in every 
 religion the standard of morality and the highest au- 
 thority, which must be obeyed. God is that law in life 
 which visits the iniquity of the evil-doer unto the third 
 and fourth generation, and which blesses the righteous 
 unto the thousandth generation. And in this respect our 
 conception of God is not at all different from that of 
 former times. Those among freethinkers who are 
 pleased to call themselves atheists, lack a proper word 
 and often they do not even feel the need of one for 
 expressing the authority or norm according to which 
 they regulate their rules of conduct. If there is a 
 difference of importance between our view and that 
 of dogmatic orthodoxy, it is this, that the conception 
 of God as proposed by us from the standpoint of a 
 positive philosophy, is free from all anthropomorphism. 
 
 Theologians claim that this highest reality of the 
 world, the soul of the universe, its formative law, must 
 be supposed to have been fashioned by a great per- 
 sonal being, by an omnipotent God. But in this they 
 show their misapprehension of the independence and 
 inherent necessity of natural and of formal laws. They 
 are like children that look upon their teacher as the 
 author of the multiplication-table. Some one, they 
 
THE SOUL OF THE UNIVERSE. 443 
 
 think, must have arranged and fixed these tables, that 
 such order and harmony and proportion could be in 
 them. Theologians think there is a God above the 
 God of the Universe who created the divinity of the 
 Cosmos. But the divinity of the Cosmos, its order 
 and harmony, is a God so divine that he cannot have 
 been created or produced. 
 
 We are in no need of such an hypothesis. We 
 can better do without the assumption of a supernatural 
 arithmetician, who so arranged the formal laws and 
 dictated them to the atoms that they would obey them. 
 For we know that the formal laws are necessary in 
 themselves. They could not be otherwise than they 
 are. Their harmony is intrinsic and immanent. The 
 order which they naturally produce cannot have been 
 imposed upon them by the ukase of a personal master, 
 be he ever so great. There is no way out of this, and 
 therefore the idea of a personal God, of an extramun- 
 dane author of the immanent God as the soul of the 
 universe, is untenable. 
 
 * 
 * 
 
 What is a person but a human individual ? And 
 what is an individual but a thing which, if broken or 
 divided, ceases to be that which it is ? A quartz-crystal 
 is an individual ; if you crush it, it ceases to be a crystal, 
 and is mere grains of sand. A plant may, but 
 need not, be an individual. There are plants that 
 you can cut in twain, and each part represents all the 
 characteristic features of that plant. Some plants are 
 individuals, and if divided, will grow into individuals 
 again ; each part will continue to grow and perfect 
 itself. Most animals are individuals, but there are 
 some that are not individuals, some that can be divided 
 and will continue to live. Amcebas, properly speak- 
 
444 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 ing, are not individuals ; they are lumps of living 
 matter mere specimens of animal life. 
 
 A person is the highest type of an individual ; it is 
 an individual that in its activity does not depend upon 
 simple reflex-motions only, but can regulate its 
 actions with the assistance of former experiences and 
 under consideration of probable results. Thus a per- 
 son is an individual that should not and need not 
 follow the impulse of the moment, but can look freely 
 around into the past as well as the future. We can, 
 accordingly, make a person responsible for his actions, 
 we can expect him to use the advantages which he 
 enjoys. In short, a person is an individual endowed 
 with freedom of action and moral responsibility. 
 
 Every individual, and more so every person, pos- 
 sesses a special idiosyncrasy ; an individual is of a 
 particular form and limited in space and time. Every 
 individual at the same time possesses a soul of its 
 own ; its formative principle makes a unit of it, it 
 organizes it into a microcosm. The microcosm of 
 individual existence, it is true, represents the order of 
 the macrocosm upon a smaller scale. And it could not 
 be different, for every individual has grown out of the 
 cosmic universe. How can it be otherwise than created 
 in the image of the whole cosmos? Man, being a 
 microcosm, has a right to shape his idea of God, of 
 the soul of the macrocosm, after his own likeness, for 
 the human soul cannot but be a part, an exponent, a 
 revelation of the soul that pervades the All. Yet in 
 fashioning our idea of God after the pattern of our 
 own soul, we must be careful not to select those 
 characteristic features which are individual and belong 
 to the limitedness of our existence. We must select 
 those which are not limited, those which show the 
 
THE SOUL OF THE UNIVERSE. 445 
 
 universality of God; we must not select the properly 
 human, but the divine, not the transient, but the eter- 
 nal, not the fleeting and unstable, but the immutable, 
 the permanent and the everlasting. The blossom is a 
 revelation of the whole tree, so is every leaf ; but the 
 blossom is a more perfect revelation. Says the blos- 
 som : "I am made in the image of the tree. Accord- 
 ingly the tree is one huge blossom. He is just like 
 me and not like the leaves." Let us beware of such 
 narrowness. 
 
 God, as I conceive him to be, is not less than a 
 person, but more than a person. The frailty of per- 
 sonality does not apply to him ; there is no limitation, 
 no individuality, no distinct idiosyncrasy about him. 
 
 He is not (as according to my conception every 
 person is) one special form and combination, yet he is 
 the universality of law, inflexible, immutable, eternal. 
 You can adapt yourself to him, but you can never 
 adapt him to yourself. The heathenish custom to 
 attempt an adaptation of God to ourselves is not yet 
 extinct in Christianity. 
 
 Certainly, the Universe is not mere force, but is 
 force ruled by law. I find that "Law " and " Force " 
 are often called blind by naturalists. Natural laws are 
 called blind, I suppose, because they allow of no ex- 
 ception whatever ; because they do not adapt them- 
 selves to circumstances, as persons might do. But is 
 not the expression "the blind laws of nature " never- 
 theless a contradiction, or at least an inadequateness 
 of simile ? If natural laws do not adapt themselves to 
 us, we must in our turn adapt ourselves to them. But 
 is that any reasonable pretence for calling them blind ? 
 Certainly not ; for they make it possible that we need 
 not grope blindly about ; being irrefragable, they throw 
 
446 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 light upon natural phenomena and thus become our 
 guides and teach us, how we can adapt ourselves to 
 nature. 
 
 We welcome the idea that God is no person, but a 
 law ; not a being adaptable to circumstances, but an 
 irrefragable authority ; no deified egotism but the om- 
 nipotent power of All-existence ! This idea is the 
 republican conception of theology which can conceive 
 of order and of law without a Prince, and of religion 
 without the fetish of anthropomorphism. 
 
 We have no objection to representing the moral 
 law of the Universe to which we have to conform, as 
 a person. We may compare it to a father, and with 
 Christ call it "Our Father," just as we like to speak 
 of Mother Nature. But we wish to have it understood 
 that this expression is a simile only a simile which, 
 if carried out, will lead to serious misconceptions. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Absent-mindedness, 258. 
 
 Abstract ideas, 356. 
 
 Abstract thought, 361, 375 et seq. 
 
 Abstraction, 383. 
 
 Abstraction, the method of under- 
 standing nature, u. 
 
 Achilles, 298. 
 
 Acrania, 99. 
 
 Active feelings, 35. 
 
 Acts of Vitality, a decay, 57 et seq. 
 
 Adaptability, 249. 
 
 Adaptation, 252, 411. 
 
 Adroitness, 351. 
 
 .flisop, 348. 
 
 Afferent and efferent nerves, 74. 
 
 Agnosticism, 370. 
 
 Agnosticism and subject-superstition, 
 31, et seq. 
 
 Agraphia, 174. 
 
 Alter ego, 251. 
 
 Amnesic aphasia, 175. 
 
 Amcebas, 67. 
 
 Amphioxus, 94, 99. 
 
 Anaesthesia, 333. 
 
 Anaesthetic hand, 249. 
 
 Animal brains, differences between, 
 210. 
 
 Animal-cell and plant-cell, 72. 
 
 Animal heat, 52. 
 
 Animal life, 363. 
 
 Anschauung, 38. 
 
 Ant (white), 88. 
 
 Antigone, 408. 
 
 Antony, 317. 
 
 Aphasia, 174, 181. 
 
 Appearance of consciousness, 6. 
 
 Appel, 22. 
 
 Arrow worm, 233, et seq. 
 
 Articulates, nervous system of, 87 
 et seq. 
 
 Ascidians, 86, 95. 
 
 Asterias glacialis, 227. 
 
 Asterias (star-fish), 86. 
 
 Atheists, 439. 
 
 Attention, 206, 258. 
 
 Attention and consciousness, 306. 
 
 Attention, object of, 255, 353. 
 
 Attention, Ribot on, i. 
 
 Auerbach, 229. 
 
 Automatic, meaning of, 312. 
 
 Automatism (intelligent), 249. 305. 
 
 Auto-suggestion, 329, 335. 
 
 Azam, 262. 
 
 Bain, 338, 344. 
 
 Balfour, 229. 
 
 Bankruptcy confession of, in Agnos 
 ticism, 33. 
 
 Bark-louse, psychical activity of the, 
 195- 
 
 Bear, 106. 
 
 Beaunis, 293. 
 
 Beneden (Van), 229. 
 
 Bentham, 338. 
 
 Berenger de Carpi, 172. 
 
 Bernheim, 269, 271, 293. 
 
 Binet, 249, 294. 
 
 Birth, 406. 
 
 Birth and death, 398. 
 
 Bjornstrom, Dr. Frederick, 301. 
 
 Blisters produced by suggestion, 329. 
 
 Boa-constrictor, 104. 
 
 Body and mind, correspondence be- 
 tween, 5. 
 
 Body, nature of the, 25. 
 
 Bouilland, 182. 
 
 Boulanger, 270. 
 
 Brain, a storehouse of memories, 128. 
 
 Brain, development of the, 107 et seq. 
 
448 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Brain functions, localizations of, 165, 
 
 245- 
 Brain in miniature a ganglion is a, 
 
 252. 
 
 Brain (primitive), 85. 
 Brain-substance, vicarious activity 
 
 of, 163. 
 
 Brainless dog, 188. 
 Brainless frogs, 187. 
 Brainless pigeon, 186. 
 Breathing, reflex centres of, 124. 
 Broca, igo, 182. 
 Brutus, 317. 
 
 Bunge on vital energy, 52. 
 Burger, Gottfried, 328. 
 Buridan's donkey, 392. 
 Burns produced by suggestion, 329. 
 
 Capsula interna, 148. 
 
 Catalepsy, 275, 279. 
 
 Cataleptic state, 306. 
 
 Caterpillar, 90. 
 
 Caudate body, 198, 202. 
 
 Cell-organism (the), 68. 
 
 Cell-souls and soul-cells, 71. 
 
 Cells, development of, 220. 
 
 Cellular rejuvenescence, 220. 
 
 Central consciousness, 265. 
 
 Central soul, 239, 251, 255, 258, 259, 
 264. 
 
 Central-soul and church-steeple, 253. 
 
 Central soul-life, 249 et seq. 
 
 Central soul, the sphere of conscious- 
 ness, 243. 
 
 Centre of the central soul, 258. 
 
 Centre of language, 173 et seq. 
 
 Centrifugal and centripetal nerves, 
 74- 
 
 Cephalopodes, 86. 
 
 Cerebellum, 100, 130 et seq., 192. 
 
 Cerebellum, gray matter of, 133. 
 
 Cerebrum, 100. 
 
 Changes of motion and conscious- 
 ness, parallelism of, 5. 
 
 Character, 390, 391, 394. 
 
 Character, elements of, 260. 
 
 Charcot, 158, 269, 275, 303. 
 
 Chilodon cucullulus, 402. 
 
 Chlorophyll, 220, 223. 
 
 Chriemhild, 390. 
 
 Christian science, 380. 
 
 Chrysalis, 90. 
 
 Clifford, Prof., 2, 3, 4, 5, 9, ip, 14. 
 
 Ccenassthesis, 353. 
 
 Combustion, 51. 
 
 Commissural fibres, 158. 
 
 Communism of soul-life, 412 et seq. 
 
 Complex of elements in feeling, 6. 
 
 Comte, 371. 
 
 Concepts, 38. 
 
 Conchs, 86. 
 
 Concentration, 309. 
 
 Concentration and hypnosis, 310. 
 
 Conception, 286. 
 
 Confinements, use of hypnosis in, 334. 
 
 Conjugation, process of, 222. 
 
 Conscience, 345. 
 
 Conscious soul-activity, 238. 
 
 Conscious thought, 309. 
 
 Consciousness, 192, 219, 258, 308, 350 
 et seq. 
 
 Consciousness and attention, 306. 
 
 Consciousness and feeling, 189. 
 
 Consciousness and intelligence, 196, 
 204 et seq. 
 
 Consciousness and struggle for exist- 
 ence, 195. 
 
 Consciousness, appearance and dis- 
 appearance of, 6. 
 
 Consciousness caused through ten- 
 sion, 194. 
 
 Consciousness compared to a light, 
 83 et seq. 
 
 Consciousness, importance of, 83. 
 
 Consciousness, intensified feeling, 
 363- 
 
 Consciousness, interruptions of, 25. 
 
 Consciousness, limitation of, 19. 
 
 Consciousness, nature of, 82. 
 
 Consciousness (organ of), 197. 
 
 Consciousness, physiological me- 
 chanism of, 206. 
 
 Consciousness possesses no motor 
 power, 82. 
 
 Consciousness, projection of, 31. 
 
 Consciousness, seat of, 194 et seq., 
 205. 
 
 Consciousness, states of, 4, 5, 35. 
 
 Consciousness, unity of, the products 
 of concentration, 206. 
 
 Conservation of energy, 49. 
 
 Continuity of the central-soul, 259. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 449 
 
 Continuity, the characteristic feature 
 
 of life, 75. 
 
 Convolutions, 163, 167 et seq. 
 Co-ordination, organs of, 310. 
 Coral plant, humanity compared to a, 
 
 412. 
 
 Corona radiata, 143. 
 Coronal, 150, 151, 153. 
 Corpora candicantia or corpora mam- 
 
 millaria, 145. 
 Corpus callosum, 157. 
 Corpus Striatum, 310. 
 Correspondence between body and 
 
 mind, 5. 
 
 Cortex, 148, 157, 162. 
 Cortical substance, 161. 
 Crab, 87. 
 Craniata, 99. 
 Creon, 408. 
 
 Crowds, suggestibility of, 314 et seq. 
 Crus, 137. 
 Crusta, 137. 
 Cuckoo, 104. 
 Cymothoa, 87. 
 
 Darwin, 73. 
 
 Data, 23. 
 
 Dax, father and son, on localization 
 of speech, 182. 
 
 Death, 26, 66, 398 et seq., 407. 
 
 Death and birth, 398. 
 
 Death and life, 57 et seq. 
 
 Death the giver of life, 58. 
 
 Death no finality, 382, 407. 
 
 Decapitated frog, experiment upon, 
 128, 252. 
 
 Decay and activity, 58. 
 
 Deduced facts, 23. 
 
 Deism, 367. 
 
 Deliberation, 349, 364 et seq. 
 
 Demagogue, 318. 
 
 Descartes, 33, 144, 207, 431. 
 
 Descartes's syllogism, 32. 
 
 Dessoir (Max), 257. 
 
 Difference between animate and in- 
 animate nature, 56. 
 
 Disappearance of Consciousness, 6. 
 
 Division, multiplication by, 401. 
 
 Division of labor, 242. 
 
 Docility, 304. 
 
 Dog (brainless), 188. 
 
 l)og, brain of, 171, 199, 285. 
 
 Dogmatists, 439. 
 
 Dostojewsky, 144. 
 
 Double personality, 258 et seq., 262, 
 
 264. 
 
 Double soul, 238, 243. 
 Doubt, a mental tension, 194. 
 Dream-ego, 260. 
 Dreaming and idealism, 295. 
 Dreams, 287^.289, 292^ et seq., 294. 
 Dreams and imagination, 296. 
 Dreams and peripheral soul life, 257. 
 Dreams, reality of, 281. 
 " Drummer," 303. 
 Dualism, 324. 
 Duality of soul-life, 239. 
 Du Bois Reymond, 77. 
 Diising ; 237. 
 
 Economy of labor. 30. 
 
 Ecstasy, 273. 
 
 Edinger, no. 
 
 Education, 365. 
 
 Effects of sleep, 331. 
 
 Efferent or afferent nerves, 74. 
 
 Ego (the), 265, 431 et seq. 
 
 Egotism does not accomplish its end, 
 409. 
 
 Ehrenberg, 404. 
 
 Eject and Object, 3. 
 
 Electricity, 425. 
 
 Electricity and nervous activity, 77 
 et seq. 
 
 Electricity, rate of transmission of, 
 78. 
 
 Elements of feeling, 6, 14, 27, 385, 423. 
 
 Elements of motion, 6. 
 
 Elephant (brain of), 214. 
 
 Embryo, early stage of nervous sys- 
 tem in the, 107. 
 
 Energy, 49. 
 
 Energy and vital force, 51. 
 
 Energy indestructible, 51. 
 
 Eocene Mammals, 105. 
 
 Epicurus, 338. 
 
 Epiktetus, 391. 
 
 Epiphysis, or pineal gland, 143 et seq. 
 
 Equivocation, 318. 
 
 Erl-king, 327. 
 
 Error, 39 et seq. 
 
 Eternity and mind, 45 et seq. 
 
450 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Ether-theories, 55. 
 Ethics of Immortality, 407. 
 Ethics, scientific basis of, 377. 
 Ethical teachers of mankind, 427. 
 Ethical, what is, 70. 
 Excitement, influence of, 328. 
 Exner, 169, 175 et seq., 245. 
 Experience, the data of, 374. 
 Experiments on the brain of animals, 
 
 186. 
 
 External, 30. 
 External facts, contents of deduced 
 
 facts, 23. 
 
 Fact not identical with truth, 41. 
 Facts, given and inferred, 29 et seq. 
 Failure in philosophy, agnosticism is, 
 
 33- 
 
 Faith-cure, 330, 380. 
 Fallacy of a sentimental logic, 320. 
 Far-feeling, 44. 
 Fatigue, 272, 274. 
 Fechner, 8, 20, 22. 
 Fecundation, 406. 
 Fecundation and immortal life, 340. 
 Feeling, 282. 
 
 Feeling a complex of elements, 6. 
 Feeling a complex phenomenon, 27. 
 Feeling and consciousness, 189. 
 Feelings and mind, 24. 
 Feeling and motion, i et seq., 358. 
 Feeling and motion, parallelism of, 
 
 4,20. 
 
 Feeling and sensation, 2. 
 Feeling as a physiological process, 76. 
 Feeling created by memory, 62. 
 Feeling, elements of, 6, 14, 385, 423. 
 Feeling, elements of, in the objective 
 
 world, 27. 
 
 Feeling, forms of, 80. 
 Feeling, ganglions the seat of, 76. 
 Feeling, nervous process in, 7. 
 Feeling, no change of, into motion, 
 
 83. 
 
 Feeling not motion, 81. 
 Feeling, origination of, 45, 385. 
 Feeling, origin of, not incidental, 27 
 
 et seq. 
 
 Feeling substance, 28. 
 Feelings produce the subject, 32. 
 Felida, X., 262. 
 
 Fere, 294. 
 
 Fillet, 137. 
 
 Finality, none, 407. 
 
 Fiquet, 237. 
 
 Fissures, 163, 166, 167 et seq. 
 
 Flame, 426. 
 
 Flesch, 144. 
 
 Flourens, 163. 
 
 Fly, 88. 
 
 Fol, 228. 
 
 Foramen Monro, 109. 
 
 Force, 445. 
 
 Forel, 254 et seq., 270, 292, 335. 
 
 Form L 383, 386, 437. 
 
 Form, differences of, 419. 
 
 Form in scientific problems, 387. 
 
 Form, laws of, 15. 
 
 Form, preservation of and soul-life 
 
 418. 
 
 Form, preservation of in memory, 63 
 Formation of sex, 234. 
 Forms of feelings, 80. 
 Fornix, 145. 
 Four Hills, 143. 
 Fox, brain of, 211. 
 Freedom of will, 389 et seq. 
 Frog, 103. 
 
 Frog (brainless), 187. 
 Frontal lobe, 169, 209. 
 Frontal section of brain, 201. 
 Fticus vesiculosus, 224. 
 Fungi, 224. 
 
 Gall, 164, 165, 182. 
 
 Ganglion, 74. 
 
 Ganglion, a brain in miniature, 252. 
 
 Ganglion, a primitive brain, 85. 
 
 Ganglions, the seat of feeling, 76. 
 
 Gaskell, 145. 
 
 Gastrula, 69. 
 
 Gastrulation, 233. 
 
 Gegenbauer, 99. 
 
 Gemmation, 400. 
 
 Generalizations, 286, 356. 
 
 Generative cells, 229 et seq. 
 
 Germinal vesicle, 227. 
 
 Ghosts, 325, 385. 
 
 Ghosts, belief in, 298. 
 
 Given Facts, 23. 
 
 God, 367, 436 et seq. 
 
 God and Nature, 440 et seq. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Goethe, 290, 296, 327. 
 
 Goltz, 143, 163, 187. 
 
 Gorilla, 106. 
 
 Graafian follicle, 226. 
 
 Grasshopper, 91. 
 
 Graves's case of aphasia, 178. 
 
 Gray matter, 204, 
 
 Gruber, 404. 
 
 Gudden, 146. 
 
 Gurney, 249, et seq. 
 
 Gyrus Hippocampi, 156. 
 
 Haeckel, 69, 71, 94, 239, 242, 401. 
 
 Hagen, 390. 
 
 Hallucination, 38, 300. 
 
 Hallucination and dreams, 294. 
 
 Happiness, 409. 
 
 Hawkmoth, 90. 
 
 Heart, action of the, 125. 
 
 Helmholz, 77. 
 
 Helvetius, 258. 
 
 HemianaBSthesia, 205. 
 
 Hemiplegia, 205. 
 
 Hemispheric region, 148 et seq., 192. 
 
 Hens (brainless), 186. 
 
 Herbart, 22. 
 
 Hering, 62, 80, 164. 
 
 Hierarchical system in soul-life, 253. 
 
 Higher life of nature and memory, 64. 
 
 Hoeffding, 338. 
 
 Hofacker, 236. 
 
 Holothurium, 225. 
 
 Homer, 298. 
 
 Huguenin, 169. 
 
 Human brain, 312. 
 
 Human brain, physiological condi- 
 tions of, 209. 
 
 Human organization, Meynert's ex- 
 planation of the, 215. 
 
 Humanity compared to a coral plant, 
 412. 
 
 Humanity compared to a creeping 
 plant, 220. 
 
 Humanity compared to a wave, 66. 
 
 Humanity, life of, 415. 
 
 Hume, 431. 
 
 Huxley, 95. 
 
 Hydra, 69, 70. 
 
 Hyper-aesthesia, 280. 
 
 Hypermechanics, 387. 
 
 Hypnosis, 275, 292. 
 
 Hypnosis and sleep, 271. 
 Hypnosis, use of, in confinements, 334. 
 Hypnotic state, 304. 
 Hypnotism, 254, 268 et seq. 
 Hypnotism as a pseudo-sleep, 270, 
 
 275- 
 
 Hypnotism, dangers of, 332 et seq. 
 Hypnotism no panac3a, 330. 
 Hypophysis, 144. 
 
 Ideal (the), 325 et seq. 
 
 Ideal, the realm of representations, 
 
 327- 
 
 Idealism, 297, 384. 
 
 Idealism and dreaming, 295. 
 
 Idealist philosophers, error of, 36. 
 
 Ideals, 437. 
 
 Ideas as impulses, 83. 
 
 Ideas, nervous structure of, 327. 
 
 Identity of feeling and motion, 21. 
 
 Imagination and dreams, 296, 
 
 Imagination, influence of, 328, et seq. 
 
 Immediate reality, 38. 
 
 Immortality, ethics of, 407. 
 
 Immortality of soul-life, 406. 
 
 Immortality (potential), 219. 
 
 Immortality, sacrifice of individual, 
 404. 
 
 Importance of consciousness, 83. 
 
 Impulses, 83. 
 
 Indeterminism, 396. 
 
 Indispensability of Psychology, 323. 
 
 Individual germs, struggle for exist- 
 ence of, 403. 
 
 Individual (the), 443. 
 
 Individual (the) part of a great whole, 
 67. 
 
 Inferences, 23. 
 
 Infundibulum, 144, 
 
 Inhibition, 366 et seq. 
 
 Inorganic nature, life of, 60 et seq. 
 
 Inorganic processes destitute of mem- 
 ory, 61. 
 
 Insinuation, 321 et seq. 
 
 Inspiration, 247, 254. 
 
 Intelligence and consciousness, 204 
 et seq., 352. 
 
 Intelligence, relation of, to growth of 
 hemispheric region, 216 et seq. 
 
 Intelligent automatism, 249, 305, 310. 
 
 Intensity of want, 343. 
 
452 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Interaction between subject and ob- 
 ject, 36. 
 
 Interchangeability, 385. 
 
 Interconvertibility of motion and 
 feeling, i, 5. 
 
 Invertebrates and vertebrates, con- 
 necting link between, 95, 
 
 Irritations, 358 et seq. 
 
 Island of Reil, 174, 182. 
 
 "It thinks," 248. 
 
 Jackson, 180. 
 
 Kant, 32, 431. 
 
 Kinetic energy and unstable combina- 
 tion, 51. 
 
 Kinetic energy and vis -viva, 49. 
 Kisch, 236. 
 
 Knowledge, basis of, 373. 
 Knowledge, relativity of, 12. 
 Kowalewsky, 95. 
 Kupffer, 95. 
 
 Lanceolate, 94. 
 
 Landois, 186, 205, 217. 
 
 Language, 362. 
 
 Language, centre of, 173 et seq 
 
 Language, importance of, 209, 218. 
 
 Lasegue, 178. 
 
 Law, 445. 
 
 Law and consistency, 267. 
 
 Laws of nature, 429. 
 
 Leech, 91. 
 
 Left-handed and right-brained, 174. 
 
 Left-handed people, 185. 
 
 Leibnitz, 16. 
 
 Le Long's case, 180. 
 
 Lenticular body, 148, 198. 
 
 Leonore, 328. 
 
 Lethargic state, 307. 
 
 Lethargy, 275, 279. 
 
 Leuckart, 95. 
 
 Lichtenberg, 248, 433. 
 
 Liebault, 301. 
 
 Liegeois, 301. 
 
 Life and death, 57. 
 
 Life as spontaneous motion, 54. 
 
 Life, continuity the characteristic 
 
 feature of, 75. 
 Life from life only, 53. 
 Life of inorganic nature, 60 et seq. 
 
 Life, what is, 47. 
 
 L'ght and mind, 43, 45. 
 
 Light, comparison of consciousness 
 
 to a, 83 et seq. 
 
 Limitation of consciousness, 19. 
 Linnaeus, 69. 
 Living substance, 358. 
 Localization of brain functions, 163 
 
 et seq., 245. 
 Locke, 17. 
 Locus niger, 137. 
 Lohmeyer, 183. 
 Lombrcso, 336. 
 Longet, 172. 
 Lordat on aphasia, 177. 
 Loss of brain substance, 172. 
 Luther, 430. 
 Luys, Dr., 269 et seq., 279, 332, etseq. 
 
 336. 
 Luys's hypothesis, 139 et seq. 
 
 Mach, Professor, 4. 
 
 Machine, man as a, 16. 
 
 Macnish, 262. 
 
 Macrocosm, 444. 
 
 Magic lanterns and soul-life, 266. 
 
 Man a most highly developed Hydra 
 
 7 1 - 
 
 Man, brain of, 106, 213. 
 
 Man, is he a machine ? 16. 
 
 Man, nervous system of, 75. 
 
 Mankind as a wave, 421. 
 
 Materialism, 380 et seq., 384, 386. 
 
 Matrimony, 406. 
 
 Matter an abstract, 383. 
 
 Matter and mind-stuff, 10. 
 
 Maudsley, Dr. Henry, 18. 
 
 Maury on dreams, 289. 
 
 Meaning, how feelings acquire, 27 et 
 seq. 
 
 Meaning of projected sensations, 31 
 
 Medulla oblongata, 100, 123 et seq. 
 
 Mechanics and visible motion, 54. 
 
 Memory, 26, 29, 45. 
 
 Memory and organized substance, 60 
 et seq. 
 
 Memory and the higher life of na- 
 ture, 64. 
 
 Memory creates feeling, 62. 
 
 Memory, na ure of, 28, 63. 
 
 Memory, problem of, 422. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 453 
 
 Memories, series of, 259. 
 
 Memories, the brain a storehouse of, 
 128. . 
 
 Memory-images, 246. 
 
 Memory-structures, 422. 
 
 Mental activity, co-ordination of, 308. 
 
 Metaphysicism, 378. 
 
 Metaphysics, 380. 
 
 Meynert, 128, 139, 142, 143, 145, 169, 
 188 etseq. 209, 213, 215, 218. 
 
 Microcosm, the soul a, 44, 444. 
 
 Microcosms, organisms are, 267. 
 
 Mihalkovics, 95. 
 
 Milk of a mother, 328. 
 
 Mind, 5. 
 
 Mind-activity and telepathy, 37. 
 
 Mind and body, correspondence be- 
 tween, 5. 
 
 Mind and eternity, 45, 46. 
 
 Mind and light, 43, 45. 
 
 Mind and motion, 13. 
 
 Mind, orig n of, 29. 
 
 Mind, the organized totality of de- 
 duced facts, 23. 
 
 Mind the representativeness of feel- 
 ings, 24. 
 
 Mind-forms, preservation of, 45. 
 
 Mind-stuff, 9. 
 
 Mind-stuff and matter, 10, 
 
 Mollusks, 87. 
 
 Moner, 394. 
 
 Monism, 34, 43, 325 et seq. 
 
 Monistic view, the, 324, 327. 
 
 Monkey (brain of), 200, 212, 285. 
 
 Monkey's brain, motor regions of, 
 170. 
 
 Monotely, 273. 
 
 Montgomery, Dr., 19. 
 
 Moral condition of higher evolution 
 of life, 70. 
 
 Motion, 383. 
 
 Motion and feeling, i et seq., 358. 
 
 Motion and feeling, parallelism be- 
 tween, 4, 20. 
 
 Motion and mind, 13. 
 
 Motion, elements of, 6. 
 
 Motion, no change of feeling, 83. 
 
 Motio.1 (spontaneous), 187. 
 
 Motions, uninterrupted chain of, 8. 
 
 Motory centres, 169, 172. 
 
 Motory fibres, 118, 
 
 Motory nerves, 74. 
 
 Miiller (Johannes), 79. 
 
 Multiplication by division, 401. 
 
 Munk, 169, 283. 
 
 Miinsterberg, 197. 
 
 Muscular contraction in response to 
 
 act of will, 8. 
 Myxomycetes, 224. 
 
 Naegeli, 220. 
 
 Nancy school of hypnotists, 269, 271. 
 
 Narcosis, 272. 
 
 Narcotics, 333. 
 
 Nature alive, 7, 386. 
 
 Nature and God, 440. 
 
 Nature, death of, only comparative, 
 
 60. 
 
 Nauplius, 69. 
 Nautilus, 87, 93. 
 Nerve-activity, 6. 
 Nerve-bundles, 121, 145. 
 Nerve-fibres, 74. 
 Nervous activity not electricity, 77 
 
 et seq. 
 Nervous irritations, rate of tran^mis- 
 
 sion of, 78, 
 
 Nervous process in feeling, 7. 
 Nervous shock, average rate of, 77. 
 Nervous system and telegraphing, 
 
 77 et seq. 
 Nervous system, beginning of the, 
 
 107 
 
 Nervous system of man, 75. 
 Nervous system, simplest form of, 
 
 85- 
 
 Nerves and soul-cells, 73. 
 Nerves compared to a line of cards, 
 
 80. 
 Nerves compared to compressed 
 
 springs, 78. 
 Neuroglia, 114 et seq. 
 Neuro-muscular cells, 70. 
 Neutral territory, 243. 
 New-born animals, 189. 
 Noire, Ludwig, 218. 
 Not-feeling (the), 45. 
 Nucleus, 228, 230, 232, 405. 
 Nucleus caudatus, 148, 150. 
 Nucleus ruber, 145. 
 Nussbaum, 404. 
 
454 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Object, 35. 
 
 Object and eject, 3. 
 
 Objective and subjective existence, 25 
 
 et seq. 
 Objective element in subjective states 
 
 34, 35 et seq. 
 Objective reality, 7. 
 Objective world, permanence of, 26. 
 Objectivity, 325. 
 
 Objectivity and subjectivity, 29. 
 Objectivity, meaning of, 36. 
 Objectivity of truth, 41. 
 CEsophagean ring, 87 et seq. 
 Olynthus, 69. 
 Oneness of all reality, 14. 
 Operations, 333. 
 Optic lobes, 100. 
 Oratory, 315 et seq. 
 Organic elements, 41, 60. 
 Organic growth of living things, 47. 
 Organic substances, 57. 
 Organisms, microcosms, 267. 
 Organization, 57, 238. 
 Organized and non-organized life, 54 
 
 et seq. 
 Organized and organic substances, 
 
 48. 
 Organized life, spontaneous rise of, 
 
 60. 
 Organized substance and memory, 60 
 
 et seq. 
 
 Organized substances, 57. 
 Origin of feeling not incidental, 27 et 
 
 seq. 
 
 Outside facts, 30 et seq. 
 Ovum, 225. 
 Owl, 104. 
 Oyster, 92. 
 
 Pain and pleasure, 341, 344. 
 
 Pagenstecher, 95. 
 
 Pain due to disturbance, 340. 
 
 Painlessness of diseases, 339. 
 
 Pallas, 94. 
 
 Panacea, hypnotism not a, 330. 
 
 Parallelism of changes of motion and 
 
 consciousness, 5. 
 Parallelism of feeling and motion, 4, 
 
 20 et seq. 
 Parallelism between the real and the 
 
 ideal, 326. 
 
 Paralysis of speech, 174, 181 
 
 Paraphasia, 176. 
 
 Paris school of hypnotists, 269, 271. 
 
 Parrot, 105. 
 
 Parthenogenesis, 226, 230. 
 
 Passive feelings, 35. 
 
 Patroclus, 298. 
 
 Perception, 283. 
 
 Perception not explainable on me- 
 chanical principles, 16. 
 
 Perception, threshold of, 21. 
 
 Perceptions, 38. 
 
 Perch, loi. 
 
 Peripheral soul, 239. 
 
 Peripheral soul-life, 249 et seq., 251. 
 
 Permanence of the objective world, 
 26. 
 
 Person, 444. 
 
 Personality, 259, 432. 
 
 Personality of man, 422. 
 
 Petrina, 169. 
 
 Philosophy, chief problem of, 43. 
 
 Philosophy of sleep, 262. 
 
 Phrenology, 164. 
 
 Physiological conditions of the hu- 
 man brain, 209. 
 
 Physiological hypnotism, 269. 
 
 Physiological mechanism of con- 
 sciousness, 206. 
 
 Piano, comparison of the soul to, 17. 
 
 Pig, brain of. 203. 
 
 Pigeon (brainless), 186. 
 
 Pike, 102, 363. 
 
 Pineal gland, 143 etseq., 207. 
 
 Pituitary body, 144. 
 
 Plant-cell and animal-cell, 72. 
 
 Planchette experiment, 250 et seq. 
 
 Pleasure and pain, 341. 344. 
 
 Polar bodies, 228. 
 
 Polar spindle, 228. 
 
 Pond-snail, 233. 
 
 Pons, 100, 130 et seq , 134. 
 
 Positive philosophy, basis of a, 374, 
 
 377. 
 
 Positivism, 34, 371, 439. 
 Post-hypnotic suggestion,-3or, 254, 335. 
 Potential energy, 49. 
 Potential existence, 375. 
 Preacher, 303. 
 Preservation of form, 420. 
 Preservation of form in memory, 63. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 455 
 
 Preservation of mind-forms, 45. 
 Pressure and counter-pressure, 50. 
 Progress, 64, 343. 
 Projection, Meynert's three systems 
 
 of, 189. 
 
 Projection of consciousness, 31. 
 Projection of objective facts, 30. 
 Projection of sensations, 30. 
 Projection of sense-percepts, 288. 
 Propagation of moners, 394. 
 Protists, 401. 
 Protoplasm, 67. 
 Pseudo-sleep, 270. 
 Psychic, 276. 
 
 Psychic life, elementary germs of, 7. 
 Psychical activity of the bark-louse, 
 
 195- 
 
 Psychical cures, 332. 
 Psychical regions of the brain, 188. 
 Psychological knowledge is power, 
 
 323 
 
 Psychology indispensable, 323. 
 Psychology, the old and new, 425. 
 Psychometer, 278. 
 Psycho-physics, 21. 
 Pulvinar, 137. 
 Putamen, 148 
 Pyramidal bundles, 119, 120. 
 
 Quesnay, 173. 
 
 Radiates, 86. 
 
 Ranke, Dr. Johannes, 420. 
 Rationality of the world, 15. 
 Raven, 105. 
 Real (the), 325. 
 Real and reality, 388. 
 Real and true, 41. 
 Reality, 384. 
 Reality, immediate, 38. 
 Reality, objective, 7. 
 Reality of dreams, 281. 
 Reality of feeling, 2. 
 Reality, oneness of all, 13. 
 Reality, subjective, 7. 
 Reality, subjective and objective, 10. 
 Reason (human), development of, 15. 
 Receptivity, 304. 
 Red nucleus, 146. 
 
 Reflex centres of the medulla oblon- 
 gata, 123. 
 
 Reflex-motions, 346 et seq. 
 Rejuvenescence, 226, 230. 
 Relativity of knowledge, 12. 
 Religion and science, 430. 
 Religion, elements in, 429. 
 Representations and th^ ideal, 327. 
 Representative images, 360. 
 Reproduction, sexual, 405. 
 Responsibility, 389 et seq., 395. 
 Reymond (Du Bois'), 77. 
 Ribot, i, 82, 258, 263. 
 Romanes, George J., on " Mind and 
 
 Body," 8. 
 Rotating mirror, 333. 
 
 Sachs, J., 220. 
 
 Sadler, 236. 
 
 Sagittal sections, 153. 
 
 Sagitta, 69, 233 et seq. 
 
 Sandhopper, 87. 
 
 Schiff, 139, 142, 189. 
 
 Schiller, 315, 391. 
 
 Schlarama, 410. 
 
 Scholasticism, 33. 
 
 Schoolmen, 34. 
 
 Schoolmen, philosophy of the, 32. 
 
 Schopenhauer, 295 et seq., 410. 
 
 Schwarz's case of a three-year old 
 
 girl, 185. 
 
 Science and religion, 430. 
 Science flot materialistic, 380. 
 Science, object of, 42. 
 Scientific problem, one of form, 387. 
 Sea-nettle, 239 et seq. 
 Sea-urchin, 230 et seq. 
 Seat of consciousness, 194 et seq. 
 Second ego, 261. 
 Second sight, 324, 380. 
 Secondary intelligence, 250. 
 Seguin, 184. 
 
 Selective faculty, mechanical, 20. 
 Selenka, 227, 230. 
 Self-consciousness, 308. 
 Self-discipline, 365. 
 Self-hypnotization, 336. 
 Self-knowledge, 64 et seq., 323. 
 Self-motion and spontaneity, 55. 
 Self-preservation, 367. 
 Sensation, 282. 
 Sensation and feeling, 2. 
 Sensations, conditions of, i. 
 
456 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Sensations, 348, 356. 
 
 Sensations, the projection of, 30. 
 
 Sense percepts projected, 288. 
 
 Senses, limitations of the, 370 et seq. 
 
 Sensory centres, 169, 172. 
 
 Senscry fibres, 118. 
 
 Sensory nerves, 74. 
 
 Sensory nerves, vibration of, 8. 
 
 Sensory organs, 76. 
 
 Sentimental arguments, 319 et seq. 
 
 Sepia, 87. 
 
 Series of memories, 259. 
 
 Sex, formation of, 234. 
 
 Sexual cells, 220. 
 
 Sexual generation, 401, 404. 
 
 Sexual instinct, 219. 
 
 Sexual reproduction, 405. 
 
 Shakespeare, 317, 298. 
 
 Shark, 102. 
 
 Sheep (brain of), 211. 
 
 Shell, 148. 
 
 Simon, 183. 
 
 Siphonophore, 239, et seq. 
 
 Sleep, 272, 274, 
 
 Sleep, effects of, 331. 
 
 Sleep, philosophy of, 262. 
 
 Slug, 92. 
 
 Snail, 86, 92. 
 
 Sneezing, 366. 
 
 Somatic cells, 220, 229. 
 
 Somnambulism, 275, 279, 305, 310. 
 
 Sophocles, 408. 
 
 Soul, 5, 406. 
 
 Soul (human) a microcosm, 44. 
 
 Soul (human) formation of the, 423. 
 
 Soul (human) function of the, 44. 
 
 Soul, nature of the, 431, 435. 
 
 Soul of the thing, 437. 
 
 Soul (the) a special form of life, 426. 
 
 Soul t'the) a telepathic machine, 44. 
 
 Soul (the) compared to a piano, 17. 
 
 Soul, the form of an organism, 64. 
 
 Soul-cells and cell-souls, 71. 
 
 Soul-cells and nerves, 73. 
 
 Soul-life a hierarchical system, 253. 
 
 Soul-life, communism of, 412. 
 
 Soul-life, seat of, 128. 
 
 Soul-life of animal and plants, 66 et 
 
 seq. 
 
 Souls, exchange of, 413. 
 Space, conception of, 37. 
 
 Specific energy, 79. 
 
 Speech, cortical centre of, 175. 
 
 Speech, cortical mechanism of, 287. 
 
 Speech, region of, 209. 
 
 Spencer, 17, 338, 344, 377. 
 
 Spermatozoon, 225. 
 
 Sphere of consciousness, the central 
 soul, 243. 
 
 Sphinx igustri, 89. 
 
 Spinal cord, 100, 114 et seq., 122. 
 
 Spirogyra longata, 222, 224. 
 
 Spirit, 298, 386. 
 
 Spirits, 244, 247, 380. 
 
 Spiritual, 42 et seq., 381. 
 
 Spiritual life of nature, 63, 64. 
 
 Spiritual, the world is, 385. 
 
 Spiritual treasures of positive phi- 
 losophy, 377. 
 
 Spiritualism, 380, 384. 
 
 Spiritualists, 386. 
 
 Spontaneity and self-motion, 55. 
 
 Spontaneous motion throughout na- 
 ture, 54. 
 
 Spontaneous rise of organized life, 60. 
 
 Sporogony, 400. 
 
 Star-fish, egg of, 227. 
 
 Star fish, nervous system of, 86. 
 
 Stentor coeruleus, 405. 
 
 Stigmata produced by auto-sugges- 
 tion, 329. 
 
 Stigeoclonium insigne, 220. 
 
 Strassburger, 223. 
 
 Striped Body, TOO, 148, 193, 196 et seq., 
 205. 
 
 Striped Body and the Hemispheres, 
 
 202. 
 
 Struggle for existence, 196, 368, 410. 
 
 Subconscious conditions, 252. 
 
 Subconscious soul-activity, 252. 
 
 Subconsciousness, 309. 
 
 Subject, 24. 
 
 Subject, meaning of, 34. 
 
 Subject, non-existence of the, 34. 
 
 Subject, origin of the, 31. 
 
 Subject-object-ness, 36. 
 
 Subject, part of the objective world, 
 26. 
 
 Subject-superstition and Agnosti- 
 cism, 31 et seq. 
 
 Subjective and objective existence, 
 25- 
 
INDEX. 
 
 457 
 
 Subjective reality, 2, 7. 
 
 Subjective states, objective element 
 
 in, 34, 35 et seq. 
 
 Subjective world, transiency of, 26. 
 Subjectivity, 325. 
 Subjectivity and objectivity, 29. 
 Subjectivity of truth, 42. 
 Subthalamic region, 145. 
 Suggestibility, 270, 303. 
 Suggestibility of masses, 319. 
 Suggestion, 269, 274, 300 et seq. 
 Suggestion limited to the material cf 
 
 the brain, 301. 
 Superconscious, 238. 
 Supernaturalism, 384. 
 Sursum, 438. 
 Sympathetic plexus, 297. 
 Systems of projection, Meynert's 
 
 three, 189. 
 
 Tailed bcdy, 148. 
 
 Teacher, 303. 
 
 Tegmentum, 137. 
 
 Telegraphing and nervous system, 7;. 
 
 Telepathic machine, the soul as a, 44. 
 
 Telepathy, 43 et seq , 324. 
 
 Temporal lobe, 210. 
 
 Tension of the mind and conscious- 
 ness, 194. 
 
 Thalami, 143. 
 
 Thalamic region, 137 et seq. 
 
 Thalamus, 142 et seq. 
 
 Thalamus and its relations, 146. 
 
 Thalamus opticus, 100, 137. 
 
 Theories, 39. 
 
 Therapeutic employment of hypno- 
 tism, 269. 
 
 Thing in itself (subjective reality ),io. 
 
 Things in themselves, 3, 33. 
 
 Things in themselves do not exist, 34. 
 
 Things in themselves (the unknow- 
 able behind things), 33. 
 
 Thinking, 360. 
 
 Thinking, purpose of, 361. 
 
 Third ventricle, 144. 
 
 Thought, mechanism of, 358. 
 
 Thought, nature of, 354 et seq. 
 
 Threshold of perception, 21. 
 
 Toxopneustes variegatus, 230. et seq. 
 
 Transiency of the subjective world, 
 
 Treadle, 226. 
 
 Trippier, 169. 
 
 True, meaning of, 39 et seq. 
 
 Truth, 436. 
 
 Truth is objective, 41. 
 
 Truth is subjective, 42. 
 
 Truth, ubiquity of, 41. 
 
 Truth, what it is, 40 et seq. 
 
 Tuber cinereum, 145. 
 
 Turbellaria (whirl-worm), 74. 
 
 Two souls, 251. 
 
 Two spheres of soul-life, 239. 
 
 Ubiquity of truth, 41. 
 Ultra-lethargy, 280. 
 Unconscious cerebration, 313. 
 Unconscious growth, 247. 
 Unconscious intelligence, 204, 352. 
 Unconscious, meaning of, 265. 
 Unconscious mental processes, 251. 
 Unconscious reasoning, 193. 
 Unconscious soul-activity, 238, 244 et 
 
 seq. 
 
 Unconsciousness, 351. 
 Unicellular beings, 219. 
 Uninterrupted chain of motions, 8. 
 Unity of consciousness the product 
 
 of concentration, 206. 
 Universe, soul of the, 437. 
 Unknowable, 371. 
 Unknowable, the subject as, 33. 
 Unstable combination and kinetic 
 
 energy, 51. 
 Uraster, 69. 
 Utopia, 410. 
 
 Vegetative soul, 125. 
 
 Venus fly-traps, 73. 
 
 Vertebrate brains, general plan of, 
 in et seq. 
 
 Vertebrates, 94 et seq. 
 
 Vertebrates and invertebrates, con- 
 necting link between, 95. 
 
 Vertebrates, nervous system of the,. 
 99 et seq. 
 
 Vibration of muscles and sensory 
 nerves, 8. 
 
 Vicarious activity of brain-substance, 
 163. 
 
 Vic d'Azyr, 146. 
 
 Visible motion, 54. 
 
458 
 
 THE SOUL OF MAN. 
 
 Vision and unity of consciousness, 
 207. 
 
 Vision, mechanism of, 282. 
 
 Vis viva and kinetic energy, 49. 
 
 Vital force and energy, 51. 
 
 Vital functions, connection of pleas- 
 ure and pain with, 339. 
 
 Vitalism, 47 et seq. 
 
 Vitality, 56. 
 
 Volkmann, 22. 
 
 Waller, 117. 
 
 Wants, 343. 
 
 Wants, natural and unnatural, 344. 
 
 Waterbeetle, 88. 
 Weber's law, 21 et seq. 
 Weismann, 215, 218, 219, 229, 340. 
 Wernicke, 193, 198, 202. 
 Whirl-worm, (Turbellaria), 74. 
 Will, 359, 393- 
 
 Will, muscular movement in act of, 
 Word-blindness, 177. 
 Word-deafness, 177. 
 World, rationality of the, 15. 
 World (the spiritual), 385. 
 Wundt, 139, 197. 
 
 Xenions, 315. 
 
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