.^^Jtkji^kl., 08- REESE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Received. , C^^^,„, iSf" / Accessions No.^^A^st^.^^ Shelf No OS* M-JQ LETTERS LAWS OF MAN'S NATURE DEVELOP M E N T. LETTERS LAWS OF MAN'S NATURE DEVELOPMENT. HENRY GEORGE ATKINSON, F.G.S., HARRIET MARTINEAU. " But the commandment of knowledge is yet higher than the command- ment over the Will : for it is a commandment over the reason, belief, and understanding of Man, which is the highest part of the mind, and giveth law to the will itself. For there is no power on earth which setteth up a throne, or chair of state, in the spirits and souls of men, and in their cogitations, imaginations, opinions, and beliefs, but knowledge and learning." — Bacon. LONDON: JOHN CHAPMAN, 142, STRAND. MDCCCLT. T EDUC, PSYCH. LIBRARY ^^ U'tf& LONDON : PRINTED BY RICHARD KINDER, GREEN ARBOUR COURT OLD BAILEY. PREFACE. This book is in reality what it appears to be, — a correspondence between two friends. The responsi- bility for its publication is mine. For some years, I had been taking a stronger and stronger interest in Mr. Atkinson^ s views on a group of subjects which I had been contemplating from my youth up, with incessant curiosity, and, till of late, slight satisfac- tion. Last year, I asked him to permit me to inquire of him, in some sort of sequence, about his researches into the nature and position of the Human Being ; and the replies I have received seemed to me to require of us both the discharge of that great social duty, — to impart what we believe, and what we think we have learned. I therefore suggested the publication of our letters. Among the few things of which we can pronounce oui'selves certain, is the obligation of inquirers after truth to commu- nicate what they obtain : and there is nothing in the surprise, reluctance, levity, or disapprobation of any person, or any number of persons, which can affect a3 VI PREFACE. that certainty. It may be^ or it may not be, that there are some who already hold our views_, and many who are prepared for them, and needing them. It is no part of our business to calculate or conjecture the reception that our correspondence is likely to meet with. The one of us has earned, and the ether has received, some knowledge, and both of us have thence come to entertain views which we value ; and the first duty belonging to the privilege is to impart what we believe to be true. It will at once occur to every considerate reader, that to establish by evidence and argument the facts and conclusions contained in these Letters would require many volumes. If we put out only one, its contents must be merely expository ; and such, and nothing more, is the character of this volume. It has neither the compass, nor the order, nor the rela- tive proportion, of a treatise. I believe that it has substance and connection enough to make it of value in its actual shape. Such as it is, we send it forth in the hope that we shall be corrected where we are wrong, enhghtened where we are dim or blind, and sympathized with by those who estimate truth and freedom as we do. HARRIET MARTINEAU. Ambleside, November, 1850, MOTTOES. "To generate and superinduce a new nature, or new na- tures, upon a given body, is the labour and aim of human power: whilst to discover the form or true difference of a given nature, or the nature to which such nature is owing, or source from which it emanates (for these terms approach nearest to an explanation of our meaning), is the labour and discovery of human knowledge." — Bacon: Novuin Organon, A. 1, Book 2nd. " It is our office, as faithful secretaries, to receive and note down such (laws) as have been enacted by the voice of Nature herself: and our trustiness must stand acquitted, whether they are accepted, or by the suffrage of general opinion re- jected. Still, we do not abandon the hope that in times yet to come, individuals may arise who will both be able to com- prehend and digest the choicest of those things ; and solici- tous also to carry them to perfection." — Bacon : Anticipations of the Second Philosophy. " The true end, scope, or office of knowledge, I have set down to consist not in any plausible, delectable, reverend, or admired discourse, or any satisfactory arguments, but in effecting and working, and in discovery of particulars not re- Vm MOTTOES. vealed before, for the better endowment and help of Man's life." — Bacon : Interpretation of Nature. " Concerning the publication of novel facts, there can be but one judgment ; for facts are independent of fashion, taste and caprice, and are subject to no code of criticism. Tliey are more useful, perhaps, even when they contradict, than when they support, received doctrines ; for our theories are only imperfect approximations to the real knowledge of things." — Sir H. Davy. "The state of the speculative faculties, the character of the propositions assented to, essentially determines the moral and political state of the community, as we have already seen that it determines the physical. Every considerable change historically known to us in the condition of any portion of mankind, has been preceded by a change of proportional ex- ^ tent in the state of their knowledge, or in their prevalent be- liefs." — Mill: System of Logic. "The deep philosopher sees chains of causes and effects so wonderfully and strangely linked together, that he is usually the last person to decide upon the impossibility of any two series of events being independent of each other ; and in Science, so many natural miracles, as it were, have been brought to light, .... that the physical inquirer is seldom disposed to assert, confidently, on any abstruse subjects be- longing to the order of natural things ; and still less so, on those relating to the more mysterious relations of moral events and intellectual natures." — Sir H. Davy : On Omens. " The Ancients, whose genius was less limited, and whose philosophy was more extended, wondered less than we do at facts which they could not explain. They had a better view of Nature, such as she is : a sympathy, a singular correspond- ence, was to them only a phenomenon, while to us it is a paradox, when we cannot refer it to our pretended laws of motion. ' ' — Biifjon. MOTTOES. IX " It does not become the spirit which characterises the pre- sent age, distrustfully to reject every generalization of views, and every attempt to examine into the nature of things, by the process of reason and induction." — Humboldt : Introduc- tion to Cosmos. " With regard to authority, it is the greatest weakness to attribute infinite credit to particular authors, and to refuse his own prerogative to Time, the author of all authors, and, therefore, of all authority. It is not wonderful, therefore, if the bonds of antiquity, authority, and unanimity have so en- chained the power of Man, that he is unable (as if bewitched) to become familiar with things themselves." — Bacon: iS'oy. Org., Aph. 84. " Moreover, in these mixtures of divinity and philosophy, the received doctrines only of the latter are included; and any novelty, even though it be an improvement, scarcely escapes banishment and extermination." — Bacon : Nov. Org., Aph. 89. " For if they mean that the ignorance of a second cause doth make men more devoutly to depend upon the Provi- dence of God, as supposing the effect to come immediately from his hand, I demand of them, as Job demanded of his friends, * Will you lie for God, as man will for man, to gratify him?' " — Bacon: Interpretation of Nature. " It is to Philo Judaeus that we owe the doctrine that no- thing can subsist without certain properties. It is only the metaphysical theologians that have embraced the error that all activity and all action is owing to a spiritual being, and that inertia is the essence of matter." — Gall. In regard to Astronomy, " Almost all its conclusions stand in open and striking contradiction with those of superficial X MOTTOES. and vulgar observation, and with what appears to every one, till he has understood and weighed the proofs to the contrary, the most positive evidence of his senses." — Sir John Herschel. " The opinions of men are received according to the an- cient belief, and upon trust, as if it were religion and law." .... " Another religion, other witnesses, and like promises and threats, might by the same way imprint a quite contrary belief." — Moritaigne. " Is our faith on the sand or on a rock? Is it too brittle to bear touching ? " — Archbishop of Dublin. 1850. "Hobbes mentions the true revelation; but clearly shows he does not believe it. Hallam considers him an Atheist. I have equal right to consider Bacon so. Descartes, Hallam says, professed a belief in the motion of the sun, to save him- self with the priests. And Hobbes thinks Aristotle did not speak as he really thought. It is surely time all this lying and counterlying should be put a stop to, or a help be ren- dered to so worthy an end, — that men's minds may expand as freely as any other growth of nature. But in our time, — no. The honey is not for us, but to work the cell ; — to work in faith and hope, in the love of truth, and for justice' sake. Tliis is enough ; — enough for the strong. And for the weak, they should not leave their mother's side." — Private Letter. " Add to the power of discovering truth, the desire of using it for the promotion of human happiness, and you have the great end and object of our existence. This is the immacu- late model of excellence that every human being should fix in the chambers of his heart; which he should place before his mind's eye from the rising to the setting of the sun, — to strengthen his understanding that he may direct his benevo- lence, and to exhibit to the world the most beautiful spectacle the world can behold, — of consummate virtue guided by con- summate talents." — Sydney Smith : Moral Philosophy, p. 94. CONTENTS. Letter. Page Preface ........ v Mottoes ........ vii 1. — Inquiry for a Basis 1 2. — Proposal of a Basis ...... 5 3. — Preparation of the Ground . . . .11 4.— What is the Brain ? 16 5. — Inquiry about its Structure . . . . 2o 6. — Early days of Phrenology , ... 2D 7. — Inquir}' for New Discoveries .... 41 S. — iVIethods of New Discovery. Organic Arrange- ment of the Brain 47 9. — Illustrative Cases 65 10. — Organic Arrangement of the Cerebrum . . 72 11. — Dr. Howe's Report on Idiocy .... 89 12.' — The Senses and Nervous System . . . 96 13. — Illustrative Comment 118 Xll CONTENTS. Letter Page 14. — Facts about the Senses under various conditions 127 15. — Raising questions ...... 157 16. — Bacon, on Matter and Causation. Inferences and Dreams. Association of Ideas . .165 17.— Nothing -201 18. — Knowledge and Notions. Results of each . 201 19. — Release from Notions. Entrance upon Know- ledge 216 20. — Natural History of Superstition . . . 223 %^ 21. — Theology and Science ..... 244 22. — Central Law and Pervasive Unity. Light. Sense of Identity. Ghost-seeing. Unre- vealed Human Relations .251 23.— Position and Privilege of Truth-seekers . . 282 21. — Position and Privilege of Truth-speakers . . 286 Appendix . . . , , . . 293 i LETTERS ON THE LAWS OF :\IAN'S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. I. II. M. TO II. G. A. My dear Friend, T rather think the reason why we have so much pleasure in talking over, and writing about, the powers and action of men, and the characters of indi- viduals, is, that/your observations proceed upon some basis of real science, and that I know that they do ; and that thus we are talking to some purpose on those most interesting subjects, instead of theorizing without taking stock of our facts on the one hand, or merely amusing ourselves with desultoiy observa- tions on the other. I want, however, to look closer into the matter. - I want to know precisely what your scientific basis is, instead of merely profiting by your ha\'ing one, and having a general notion how you came by it. I want you to tell me, with great parti- cularity, (if you will,) how you would have one set about the study of the powers of Man, in order to 2 man's nature and development. understand his nature^, and his place^ business and pleasure in the universe.^ For thirty years past I have been disposed to this kind of study ; and it is strange to think how many books I have read, and how often over_, and what an amount of hours I have spent in thinking, and how many hundi-eds of human beings I have watched and speculated upon, without being ever, for one moment, satisfied that I knew what I was about,-^-for want, I suppose, of some scientific basis for the inquiryT? and of some laws manifesting themselves in its course; — laws on which one might rest, and to which one might recur, when in perplexity how to proceed. I am sure I do not wonder at scientific men sneering at metaphysics, if the case be at all as I suppose it : — that Natural Philosophy and Mental Philosophy are arbitrarily separated ;— that the one is in a regenerate state (thanks to Bacon), and the other in an unregenerate state ; — and that we can no more get on in Mental Philosophy without an ascer- tainment of the true method of inquiry, than the men of the middle ages could get on with Natural Philo- sophy (except in departments of detail), till a man rose up to give us a Novum Organon Scientiar^um. And ^fwhy Mental Philosophy is not yet included among the sciences which are benefiting by the Novum Organon of Bacon is a thing that I am quite unsatis- fied about. I do not mean that I at all wonder that the greater number of students have recourse to unsound methods ; because we see that the fact is so with the greater number of physical inquirers, — INQUIRY FOR A BASIS. 3 the tiTie followers of Bacon being few indeed among Natural philosophers^ as they are called. My wonder is^ — not that there are few so-called Mental philoso- phers who use or even advocate any experimental method of inquiiy into the science of mind; but that there seem to me to be none. If I am wrong as to the fact^ tell me ; and pray point out where I may find such^ if you know them to exist. I am well aware what the answer of metaphysi- cians to this difficulty of mine would be. They would plead the totally different and incompatible nature of the two regions of inquiry, and therefore of the method of penetrating those regions. But this is exactly what I am not satisfied about. When I look at the course of metaphysical inquiiy from the beginning to this day, I see something very much like the com'se of physical inquiry from the beginning to Bacon^s day : and I am not sure that Bacon may not yet throw down the barrier between the two regions, and make them one. Allien I look back upon the two paths, it seems to me that I see the same Idols set up for worship on the way-side; and I hear the same excuses for wild theorizing in both departments, — that spiritual agencies are at work, w^hich can be recognized only by each man for himself, by means of a special spiritual sense of which no one can give an account. Now, Science has disabused us of our blinding and perplexing notions of spiritual anti-types of material things, and of spiritual interference in material operations ; and we have arrived at the notion of chance-excluding b2 4 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. Law in the physical operations of the universe. I want to know why it is not possible for us to pursue the same process in regard to Mental Philosophy; — why we are to take for granted that the two regions of science are so unlike^ that the same principle of inquii-y is not applicable to both ; — and if so, what we are to do next ; for we cannot remain for ever as hopelessly adrift on the sea of conjecture about the truths of Mental Science as we are now. I do not ask you, however, to make an express reply to every thing I may put in the form of a question, — as above. If you will tell me how you would set to work to ascertain the powers of Man, in order to understand his position and destiny in the Universe, that will include an answer to my speculations on past methods of inquiry. Your ideas mil descend upon this locality in cu- rious contrast with some which are to be found here. I like to talk with the gardener, and the cowherd^s- wife, and any workman who may relish a bit of talk on Sundays, on their notions of how body and mind should be treated, and what they are living for, and what is wrong and right in morals. There is much amusement and instruction in hearing them lay down the law about health and duty. And then, when I meet a poet here, and a scholar there, and a Quaker or Swedenborgian religionist somewhere else, it seems to me that I have been carried back some thousands of years, to the time when science was composed of dreaming, and when men^s instincts constituted the mjlhology under which they lived. PROPOSAL OF A BASIS. 5 It is all very interesting^ liowever_, and all worthy of respect. To us, who are in search of facts, there is no dream of any intellect, no dogmatic assm-ance, no stirring of any instinct, which is not full of interest and instruction. But I shall be glad of your answer to my question, as guidance in using the material furnished by my neighbours. II. H.G.Ato H.M. ^ly dear Friend, By all means let us go into this inquiiy and ex- planation. Nothing will give me gi-eater pleasure ; for certainly it is most important that we should form a true estimate of man^s nature, and ascertain the real basis of a science of Mind. Men have been wandering amidst poesies, theologies, and metaphy- sics, and have been caught in the web of ideal crea- tions, and have to be brought back again to particu- lars and material conditions ; to investigate the real world, and those laws of being and action which are the form and nature of things, and the pheno- mena which they present, as they are here, within us and about us in reality and in truth, and not as we would fancy them to be. There are not two philo- sophies, one for Mind and another for ^Matter. Na- '6 man's nature and development. ture is one_, and to be studied as a whole. ^^ There is nothing in nature/' says Bacon, " but individual bodies, exhibiting clear individual effects,, according to particular laws.'' Instinct, passion, thought, &c., are effects of organised substances : but men have sought to make out a philosophy of mind, by study- ing these effects apart from causes, and have even asserted that mind was entirely independent of body, and having some unintelligible nature of its owii, called free will, — not subject to law, or de- pendent on material conditions ; though a man has no more power to determine his own will than he has wings to fly. Of course, I need not say to you that these popular notions are mere delu- sion. I cannot tell you how odd it seems to me to have to assert such a self-e^ddent fact. All the conditions of man and mental peculiarities are now traced to physical causes and conditions, exhibiting clear determining laws. The instinct of animals and the mental condition of men are all phenomena exhibited as a consequence of the bodily condition, and the influences which have been acting upon it. This is now as clearly understood as the jihvsical conditions and cause of the rainbow and of the thunder storm. What men are for the most part believing now is a kind of insanity ; but, as Bacon says truly, '' those who resolve not to conjecture and divine, but to discover and know ; not to invent buffooneries and fables about worlds, but * Novum Organ on, II. Apli. 2. PROPOSAL OF A BASIS. 7 to inspect^ and, as it were, dissect the nature of this real world, must derive all from things them- selves." We know nothing fundamental of nature, nor can we conceive any thing of the nature of the primary cause. We know not, nor can we know, what things really are, but only what they appear to us ; and the relations of their appearances. The form of these relations we term Law. Whatever is must have a form of being and action. It cannot be what it is not ; but must be subject to the form or law of its constitution. Even supposing the mind was an entity separable from the body, and acting independently of body, it must still have a nature of its own, and be determined by the form of that nature ; and this form of being and action we term Law. Nothing can be of itself, or change its con- dition, unless it be acted upon by something else. A man cannot of himself, or by his ^\all, become a tree, any more than a triangle can by any means become a circle : nor are more causes to be admitted than are sufficient to produce any particular change or effect. Hence we require no supernatural causes when we can recognise adequate natural causes inherent in the constitution of nature. The phenomena of instinct and reason are no exception or anomaly in nature. The different characters of men arise from the differences in the substance and form of their being ; just as it is with other animals, and with plants and stones. For every effect, there is a sufficient cause ; and all causes are material causes, influenced by surround- 8 man's NATL" re AND DEVELOPMENT. ing circumstances ; which is nothing more than matter being influenced by matter. I observe that di'unkenness and madness^ idiotcy, genius^ sleep, dreams, murder, charity, are effects, the conse- quence of material conditions; absolutely and wholly so. If I pour a bottle of wine down a man's throat, he becomes drunk. If I press a splinter of bone into the brain, madness ensues. I want no devil to account for these effects. Again, if I place a naturally good disposition imder favour- able circumstances, goodness is invariably the result. If I place a naturally ill-disposed person under un- favourable circumstances, evil is necessarily the result. I want no good spirit in the one case, nor evil spirit in the other, to account for these facts, any more than to account for geese being geese, and green gooseberries being acid, and those which have ripened by exposure to the sun being of a delicious flavour. We now can perceive precisely why men think as they do ; how they are deceived by their own thoughts and feelings : otherwise, their seeming total apathy, — their inability to compre- hend the natm'e of science, and the necessity of uni- versal law, would make us despair of progress. The reason why you are interested in my thoughts and opinions is, not that I have more ability than others, but that I have endeavoured, under favour- able circumstances, to renounce all idols and supersti- tions, and have drawn close to nature, to examine into causes. In material conditions I find the origin of all religions, all philosophies, all opinions, all virtues, and PROPOSAL OF A BASIS. 9 " spiritual conditions and influences/^ in tlie same manner that I find the origin of all diseases and of all insanities, in material conditions and causes. I have followed Bacon^s method, because there is no other that can lead to any discovery and prac- tical results, or represent nature. I have but one earnest desire in life, which is to acquire knowledge ; and a knowledge of human nature in particular, — that being the most important and the most needed. And I would freely utter, on all occasions, what I know and believe, honestly and without reserve, or regard for the opinion of a world which is full of superstition and hypocrisy on the one side, while on the other we see the mental powers of men crushed by excessive labour, or excessive indolence and in- dulgence. Man is everywhere against his fellow-man, and every nation is ruled by the sword, or other symbol of force, and none by knowledge and virtue. No mo- ral principle or religious system or belief will elevate men and set them free, except such as is based on a knowledge of causes, and the result of a true science of human nature. This position I think we may stand on, as upon a rock, ^^ and thence observe the wanderings up and down of other men.^^ But I do not wish to dispute with any men, about their belief or theii* morals, or their laws of expediency ; for I say that all the systems of the whole world are wrong ; — they being all founded on error in the ignorance of natural causes and material con- ditions. I have nothing to say to any, but that B 5 10 man's nature and development. we must turn aside and begin afresh^ from tlie beginning. What use is there in disputing with the Mohammedan about his prophet or his hareem ? or with the Roman Catholic about his saints and his transubstantiation ? or with the English Pro- testant about his dull formalism, his ser\dces, and his worldly pride, and vulgar regard for wealth ? We must begin at the beginning, and exhibit the inherent causes of all the various beliefs and pas- sions which have so long triumphed over truth and ]\Ian's better nature. We must exhibit the real, , fundamental and material causes of men's thoughts : and out of a knowledge of human natm-e will grow a wisdom and revelation of principles which will revolutionize the world, and become the guide of man in legislation and education. Let us not assume anything, but intei-pret the book of na- ture. Thus may we lay hold of the Science of Human Nature : and till we recognise this science, we live in a barbarous and dark age, and have no health in us. PREPARATION OE THE GROUND. 11 III. H. M. TO H. G. A. Yesj — the reason why I want to understand your views is that which you assign ; — that you have abjured idols, and come with a free mind to the study of a subject which is rarely entered upon from the beginning. It appears to me that men come to the subject wdth antecedent notions of " dignity of origin^^ for man ; with words upon their lips about man being made in the image of God ; and then, in the fear of impiety, if this notion is invaded, they lose their freedom, and desire to find the truth lying in one direction, rather than another. Now, from the moment that a man desires to find the truth on one side rather than another, it is all over with him as a philosopher. I doubt whether I have ever met with any one but yourself who was perfectly free from such leaning. I have sometimes supposed that I had met mth a truly impartial inquirer, — judging him by the sacrifices he had made for his comactions. Bat, sooner or later, out it comes ! He lets out, in one connection or another, that he should be sorry to believe this or that, which he has not yet the means of fully comprehending. He may have gone further in free inquiry than his neighbours, and he rejoices in what he has attained ; yet, not the less does he pity those who have out- 12 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. stripped him_, as the brethren and friends whom he has outstripped are pitying him. He says that his brethren and ancient friends cannot judge for him, because they have never been in his state of mind^ — have never looked from his point of view ; and he straightway forgets that this is precisely his own position with regard to those by whom he is out- stripped. This pitying, this mutual judging, is so wholly incompatible with an effectual pursuit of truth, that I am concerned to hear it going forward on every hand, — concerned to see that you are perhaps the only person of all my acquaintance that is altogether above it. I dare not say that I am. I can only say that I ought to be ashamed if I am not, for I have had some blessed lessons on this matter. Feeling, as I do, daily comfort in the knowledge of some things which I should once have shrunk from supposing, it would be weak, — as foolish as cowardly, — ever again to shrink from knowing anything that is true, or to have any pre- ferences whatever among unascertained matters of speculation or fact. As to the notion about dignity of origin that inquirers bring with them as their first misleading partiality, — it seems to me premature, in the first place. What we want to know is what our powers are, and how they work : and it would be vitiating the research at once to conclude, on moral grounds, against admitting evidence of physical fact. Such a kind of objection appears also to be worse than pre- mature ; evLii foolish. Surely it is the quality of the PREPARATION OP THE GROUND 13 powers alone whicli can determine the quality of their origin : and if we set about objecting to the ■universal law, or to any of its applications,, whereby great things invariably issue from small beginnings, we .may safely conclude that it is our notion of dignity that is wrong, and not any one application of that universal law. For me it is enough that I am what I am ; — some- thing far beyond my own power of analysis and comprehension. By what combination of elements, or action of forces, I came to be what I am, docs not at all touch my personal complacency, or interfere with my awe of the universe. If, because I can at this moment think abstractedly and feel keenly, I abjure an origin in matter which cannot think, and forces w^hich cannot feel, I cannot reasonably stop short of despising myself for having once been a babe, '^ mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.'^ But it is enough to say that we are satisfied with the truism, — '^ Here we are ! We are what we are, however we came to be so." A-S to the great point of controversy between you and the holders of popular views and language, — the question whether there are two methods of access to knowledge of man's nature open to us, or one, — I think the onus rests with the holders that there are two, to prove then- point against him who declares that one suffices. ' You are satisfied with observation of phenomena manifesting themselves through matter. Others insist that there is also an interior conscious- ness which teaches us things not only unattainable 14 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. by otlier means, but bearing no relation to know- ledge wbich comes by any other channel. We deny, for our part, having any interior consciousness which informs us of any spiritual existence antagonistic to, or apart from, matter. If we once fancied we had, we have learned that it was through an ignorant and irreverent misapprehension of the powers and func- tions of matter. We have a right to require evi- dence of theii' assertion from those who say that man is endowed with such a means of knowledge of his origin and constitution. Such evidence, however, can never be had. All declare it to be impossible ; we, because we are confident that it does not exist ; and its advocates because facts of consciousness are not provable. They pity us, as Mr. Newman does, in his book on " the Soul :" and we are happy in having open before us (and in being free to follow it) a single path which will surely lead us to what we want : — ^happy and satisfied to agree with Bacon that '^ all things are delivered in matter,^^ and that " we must bring men to particulars." We agree that we know only conditions. We agree that we will not go a step beyond what we know. We abjure dreams, whether inbred or caught by infection. We must be sure of the assent of our understanding at every step of the inquiry. Thus is our ground agreed upon. You must now, if you please, do as Bacon bids you, and " bring me to particulars." You must exhibit to me some of those conditions which are all we know. We must tiy to put away that shadow of ourselves which we PREPARATION OF THE GROUND. 15 once took for a spirit^ and whicli we now know we had no riglit so to pronounce upon. If we cannot set ourselves back to the beginning of our reflective exist- ence, and trace the whole course of our ideas and experience, you can teach me much of that particular department of matter through which Mind is mani- fested. At which end will you begin ? Will you indicate to me what you conceive to be the powers of living beings, and trace them to their origin in the brain ? Or will you lay open the brain before me first, and follow abroad the resulting mental actions, till we are stopped by the limitations of our knowledge, — however well aware that there is the infinite field of the unknown lying beyond ? I am not a whit alarmed at that declaration of yours, " that all the systems of the whole world are wrong.^^ Sweeping as it appears, and presumptuous as many might pronounce it, it only shows you to to have gone one step further than other people. Evei*ybody thinks that all the systems but one of the whole world are wrong ; that one being the system that he upholds. At the same time, I believe you are more modest than they, in as far as you have no system to propound, but only an inquiry to propose. 16 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. IV. H. G. A. TO H. M. I am glad to find that we agree so far. I will not make any comment on your last note, because I see you msli to proceed, at once, into the heart of the subject. Nor will I now detain you with ob- servations on the nature of knowledge, — or the facts of organic chemistry, and some other matters which appear to me to be fundamental to the subject. Exactness of method does not greatly signify, in a matter so interlaced ; where it is impossible to speak on any one point without, in some measure, as- suming an acquaintance with some other department of the subject, or with some general notions only to be abstracted from the whole. What I wish to indicate in the first place, then, is this : — that Man has his place in natural history : that his nature does not essentially differ from that of the lower animals : that he is but a fuller develop- ment and varied condition of the same fundamental nature or cause; of that which we contemplate as Matter, and its changes, relations, and properties. Mind is the consequence or product of the material man, its existence depending on the action of the brain. Mental Philosophy is, therefore, the phy- siology of the hrain, as Gall termed it. Spurzheim called it Phrenology. Perhaps I might suggest WHAT IS THE BRAIN? 17 Phreno-physiology, as a more compreliensive term. The proof that mind holds the same relation to the body^ that all other phenomena do to material conditions (light, for instance^ or instinct in ani- mals), and that it is not some soi-t of brilliant exist- ence lodged in the body to be clogged and trammelled by earthly conditions, is to be found by all who will exert their senses and understanding, released from nurseiy prepossessions. It may be found in the whole cii'cumstances of man^s existence, his origin and growth: the faculties following the development of the body in man, and in other animals ; the direction of the faculties being influenced by surrounding circum- stances j the desires, the will, the hopes, the fears, the habits and the opinions being effects traceable to causes — to natural causes — and becoming the facts of History and Statistics. "We obsene the influence of climate, — of sunshine and damp, — of wine, and opium, and poisons, of health and disease — the cir- cumstances of idiotcy and madness ; — the differ- ences between individuals and their likeness to the lower animals, and the different condition of the same individual at different times. But it is unne- cessary to insist more to you on the evidence which is now generally admitted, of the relation between the body and mind. It is not so generally admitted, however, that mind is the consequence and phe- nomenon only of the brain. ^lind is the product of the brain. It is not a thing ha\ing a seat or home in the brain ; but it is the manifestation or expression of the brain in action j as heat and light are of fire, 18 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. and fragrance of the flower. The brain is not, as even some phrenologists have asserted, " the instru- ment of the mind.^^ When a glass of wine turns a wise man into a fool, is it not clear that the result is the consequence of a change in the material con- ditions ? The thoughts and will are changed. An- other glass, and even consciousness is laid at rest — no longer exists ; — and hence, such existence is clearly but a temporary and dependent condition ; — as much so, as light or heat, fragrance, beauty, or any electric or magnetic phenomena. The same reasoning which induces the conclusion that the brain is the instrument of the mind, must force a consistent man to conclude that the steam-engine is not the machine producing, but the instrument of that which is produced by its action ; or that the galvanic apparatus is the instrument of a galvanic will or power. Men turn nature topsy-turvy, — take effects for causes, to suit their fancies; — in defiance of reason, and of all clear and true analogy. Shall we suppose that the music plays itself, and " uses the instrument to show forth its powers ?" — not the powers of the instrument, but its own powers ? Shall we suppose a spirit not the growth of the body, but got there we know not how, — all manifest imperfections being only the imperfections of the instrument ? — that all spirit or mind is, in reality, pure and equal ? and, by the same reason- ing (or conclusion without reasoning), are we to imagine the ^'^ great spirit of the universe^^ all per- fection ? and that all evil, pain, blight, death, &c., WHAT IS THE BRAIN? 19 are the defects of the instnimentj Nature ? It does not appear to me that such assumptions would sup- port those notions about free will, and some other matters, notions absurd in our eyes, which they are adduced to uphold. When men desert nature, and neglect fact and reason for the imagination, they are sure to entangle themselves in their own web. How far a man does resemble an instrument will, I think, be better seen in contemplating the facts of phreno- mesmerism. There, any doubt which might remain in regard to the mind's independent action must, I think, be swept away, and the law of dependence be exhibited as clearly as in regard to all other physical fact. Of course, men do not, at first, receive willingly the intelligence of this inestimable truth, of man being wholly subject to law and material conditions. Objections arise, in opposition to new truths, at every step of the world's progress ; for error is the first growth of the infant life of the world; but those who study the laws of mind, and trace the history of objections and errors back to their pa- rentage, find interest and instruction in all con- ditions of mind ; — in investigating the nature of the blight of prejudice, as well as in enjo\dng the flowers of truth. The bigot loathes eveiy newly-developed truth which interferes with his assumptions and self- endeared views ; but the morrow comes, and statues are raised to' those who were persecuted in their time. The new philosophy which looks so dark and cheerless, at fii'st, as to make the youthful poet ex- 20 man's nature and development. claim^ "Philosophy would clip an angePs wings," becomes, ere long, the guide and charm of his life. We must keep in mind what is the scope of ob- servation of the metaphysician in studying his con- sciousness, which, irrespective of the errors to which he is necessarily subject, is the reflexion of what are but effects, and the mutual relations of such effects. It is a kind of phantasmagoria, varpng according to the nature and opinions of each observer, and not a philosophy at all. Philosophy is the observation of effects in relation to causes, in order to the discovery of the laws concerned. The results of the imperfect method are such as were our perceptions of light and colours, before there was a science of optics ; that is, previous to the tracing of the phenomena to their material causes ; when the rainbow was thought to be a mystic sign in the heavens. The observation of mind is now at this stage of progress. It appears to thousands what the rainbow was supposed to be a few years back ; a thing out of the ordinaiy course of nature, — having a supernat^jral cause and a special end. But we are now aware that the rain- bow phenomenon is a necessary consequence of the laws of light, which operate universally. I feel almost ashamed to offer illustrations of what seems to be such simple and clear matter of fact : but it is necessary to my subject, though not perhaps for you. I will not now, however, detain you longer, but invite you to the consideration of the brain and its parts, in relation to mind, and its several faculties. WHAT IS THE BRAIN? 21 AVe perceive that the bod}^ is an independent whole^ a unity made up of dissimilar parts^ each part having its distinct office and relation to other parts, and to the whole. So, likewise, is mind a unity, divided in like manner. The brain is the organ of the mind; and each part has its special function, and its relation to the rest, and to the wants and conditions of the body at large, or to ex- ternal nature. Even Dr. Sharpey, in his lectures at the London University, admits that the brain has special functions; but while he is so particular in explaining to his pupils the nature of the facts on which the different ^-iews (whether he approves them or not) have been founded, in relation to every other portion of the nervous system, on coming to the brain he actually omits to explain the facts from which GalFs views are derived; — a cui-ious instance of the operation of prejudice on a mind which may be otherwise working well ! — Plato, Aristotle, De- mocritus, Montaigne, Bacon, and a host of others, have considered that the different faculties of the mind occupy different parts of the body : but they have generally erred from making causes out of mere sympathetic effects, in the heart, stomach, liver, &c. ; and, again, from not having discovered the means and right method of investigating the subject with success. Gall was the first to discover a clue to the difficulty ; to that which Socrates thought important ; but so difficult and profound as to require '^ a Delian divei*^^ to find it out. Gall discovered the relation between the development of 22 mak's nature and development. the brain and the several faculties of the mind_, and demonstrated the true method of dissecting the brain by tracing out the origin and course of the nerves and fibrous structure ; the common method being to slice it through_, as if you were cutting up a turnip. Sir Charles Bell, by careful investigation, was enabled to exhibit the fact of there being distinct nen^es for the offices of motion and of sensation ; thus demonstrating a general truth already inferred by Gall and Spurzheim, and confirming the funda- mental principle of their philosophy. Gall proved that each faculty of the mind was a consequence of the action of a particular portion of the brain, and thus laid the foundation of a true science of Mind : but though the principle be correct, that, other things being equal, size is a measure of power, his method of obsening had its limits, owing to the difficulty of observing the size of parts with accuracy ; and more particularly with regard to those portions of the brain not in contact with out- ward portions of the skull, or with the surface exhi- bited in the living head. Some help was sought in obsernng brains after death : but this presented other difficulties, and did not avail much. The study of abnormal conditions of brain in relation to abnormal conditions of mind was also resorted to ; and experiments were made by injuring, irritating, or destropng certain portions of the brains of living animals : and comparative anatomy was put to the test. But very httle has been ascertained by these last methods, beyond establishing the general prin- WHAT IS THE BRAIN? 23 ciples of the science. However^ the several means must be resorted to as helps, just as we require the various senses to coiTect and confinn the impressions of each. The more we extend our knowledge, the more shall we be able to avail ourselves of the dif- ferent means of confinnation : for it is essential to have established certain fixed points as landmarks, or our experiments will present to us nothing but uncertainty and confusion. Yeiy little had been ascertained by these various means, even after nearly half a century, beyond the original discoveries of Gall, with a few additions by his pupil and fellow- labourer, Spurzheim. On first looking into Phrenology, I felt the want of some additional means of observation, and the unsatisfactoiy and imperfect condition of the science. I found phrenologists to be, for the most part, ignorant of anatomy, and of the labours of philoso- phers, and resting with the same confidence and pre- sumption on their thirty or forty organs as some others do upon their thirty-nine articles of faith. I am not at all surprised, therefore, at the reception Phrenology has met with from the scientific world ; for it was easy to reject the whole where there was really so much error. Phrenologists were dogma- tizing and fortune-telling with strange incaution, and disgusting people by their presumption and blundering, while the subject was yet in its infancy, and all were professors and few were students at the very commencement of the inquiry. But there are difficulties and imperfections and errors in all sci- 24 man's nature and development. ences ; and over-confidence^ and hasty theorizing, and system-making : but when, as Bacon wisely says, men dogmatize and lay down the principles of a science in its infancy Tvdth a show of completeness, it may add to the glory of the professor, but will not leave the science in a state of growth. Phrenology has been a glaring instance of the evil of making too great a show of exactness and method. I will next explain to you what has occurred to me in my investigation, and what appears to me to be the principle of the general arrangement and division, &c., of the faculties. In the brain is cast in stereot}^e, as it were, the whole nature and phi- losophy of man ; and in a language which exists for all nations and for all times. It is the most wondrous structure, and the most beautiful in ar- rangement, that men can contemplate. May we approach the subject with reverence, and with a due sense of its importance and of our own inability ! and be guarded that in seeking truth, we assume not something which is false; always being regardless of the opinions of men, and however vehemently they may say " No,'' so long as Nature whispers " Yes." INQUIRY ABOUT THE STRUCTURE. 25 V. H. M. TO H. G. A. We are coming to the pith of the matter now. When people speak of the brain as '^ the instrument of the mind/' I want them to tell me whether they think the dog, and the bee, and the ape, have each a mind which puts the brain in operation : and if so, whence it came, and whither it goes. You remember Scott's dog, which somehow attacked or alarmed a certain baker; and how this dog slunk into a corner whenever his master spoke of the adventure, whatever might be the tone of voice or the ai-tifice with which the story was introduced; and how, when the upshot was told, — '' and the baker was not hurt after all,'^ — the dog came out of his corner, frisking and joyful, and barking merrily. Now, this creature evidently felt shame and fear, and consciousness of self, relief andjoy. And, again, when the monkey puts the wig into the boiler, and hides the plum-pudding, and then gets out of reach of punishment, as soon as any one goes near the boiler, — here is an exercise of several faculties, besides the most prominent ones of imitation and consciousness of self. Will any one say that these creatures have a separate mind, which uses the brain as a manifesting instrument ? If so, what is the evidence ? and how do we know that these animals are not of a nature equal to man, but c / 26 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. furnished with a smaller apparatus of brain ? If not, why suppose man to be of an essentially different make from them_, while their powers are, as far as they can be traced, absolutely analogous ? In these instances, the point of most importance appears to me to be the consciousness of self indi- cated by the dog and the monkey. I am constantly told that this consciousness is an attribute of the human being alone ; whereas I cannot see how the jealousies, the \dndictiveness, the moral fear, the love of approbation, and the forecast of brute ani- mals, can be exercised without a sense of the Ego. AVe know but little of the powers and experience of brutes, even as the dog knows little of the experience of the cat, or the bird of that of the frog: but what we do know indicates consciousness as clearly as sentience. As for how any faculties exist at all, we are so absolutely ignorant, that we may fairly pass over any objections to Thought and Feeling being residts of brain, from the impossibility of explaining the How. AVhen we know how anything else is produced, it will be time enough to require explanations of this. In the old ages of Geology, before there was animal existence, there were electric lights, and aroma from vegetation, and solemn music from winds sounding through vast cane brakes, and among clattering or swinging palm and plantain leaves : but there was then no sentience to grasp and appropriate these pro- ducts. When the sentience was provided, it pro- bably only enjoyed. After more ages, consciousness followed upon the sentience; or, if consciousness i INQUIRY ABOUT THE STRUCTURE. 27 came with the sentience, reflection followed, and the results of material action were naturally, but igno- rantly, attributed to preternatural agency ; as you observe of the rainbow. Is there more ground (in these days of our physiological ignorance) for our supposing mental results to be of a spiritual origin than there was for the first half-dozen men to suppose lightning to be a spirit, and the harp-music of the pine forest the voice of a spirit, and, in shoi-t, all intangible matter and material effects to be manifes- tations of spirit ? I cannot see how we can be justified in falling into such assumptions, with so many ancient warnings, and such vast modern scientific discoveries before our eyes. Show me, therefore, how we are to set about the study of the structure and functions of the brain, and what we really know of them. I have seen for myself, by the actual examination of the brains of the dead, how great was the folly of slicing them through, instead of tracing out their convolutions and compartments ; a folly even greater than that of slicing through the muscles, if the view was to ascertain their whole structure and use. I have a distinct idea of the appearance and general form of the human brain. I now look to you for an account of — not what one may find arrogantly mapped out in every manual of phrenology, — but what you con- ceive to be clearly est^lished, what conjsctui-ed, and what merely hinted, up to the present time. I hope to obtain much more satisfaction from you than I have ever got from all the metaphysicians I have c2 28 man's nature and development. read. As you say, they have regarded only effects, and the relation of those effects to each other, while the effects themselves can hardly appear alike to any two observers : and that the true philosophy that we want is the relation of these effects to their causes : an investigation which can never be made while men take for granted that the real agent is, in each of us, an intangible Mind or Spirit, whose nature and qualities are not knowable. It is really wearisome to read theories by the score, all unsup- ported by any thing that can be called evidence, and descriptions and so-called analyses of faculties whose nature and origin are not even looked for, and whose management and control cannot therefore be pro- vided for. You will teach me better. You will open the matter to me as if you were going to treat of the eye, — showing me the structure of the ball and the nerve, and what share of the brain it appro- ])riates ; and then how the laws of optics bear upon it ; and then, the mental facts of vision, — with some curious secrets that I know you hold thereupon. Now then, — what is our brain ? Yes, indeed, we feel reverently in regard to this research. The true ground of awe is in finding our- selves what we are ; not in dreams of how we came to be what we are. I suppose all we know is, that every thing occurs and proceeds by immutable laws ; and the more this fact strengthens our reliance, the more it must enhance our reverence. We are what we are, however we came to be : and what we are is too great for our present selves to know. EARLY DAYS OP PHRENOLOGY. 29 VI. H. G. A. TO H. M. '^ What is the brain?'' \ The brain is the organ from whose action arises all that class of phenomena which we term Mind : in which I include all our sensations, perceptions,, emo- tions, judgments and intuitions ; consciousness, will, and certain forces which tend to regulate, stimulate and control the other functions of the body.^ This, you perceive, is giving to the brain a larger sphere of action than is assigned to it in the works on phrenology. I differ also from phrenologists in this ; that I consider consciousness, will, pleasing or painful sensations, &c., to be distinct faculties, and the functions of special organs. You know the brain ; I need therefore only remind you that there are, in fact, two brains : the cerebrum occupying the larger portion of the skidl, and the cerebellum in a separate compartment, beneath the posterior lobe of the cerebrum, occupying the space behind the ears. It has happened to me to be able to demonstrate that this lesser brain is not what Gall supposed it to be ; that is, the organ of the amative propensity : but the organ of that class of powers which might perhaps, for distinction's sake, be termed the physico-func- tional powers ; or those powers having a more imme- diate relation to the bodily conditions — the muscular 30 man's nature and development. power, and other purely bodily relations, secretions, &c. But, whatever importance I may attach to the knowledge of the functions of this and of some other parts, I trust you will not consider it presumption in me, or that I wish in any way to force these views upon others, or to take from the value of their labours. "What I have done I attribute to the light thrown upon the subject by the new means I have discovered and made use of, rather than to any superior ability or acuteness in myself. I am what I am ; a creature of necessity ; I claim neither merit nor demerit. I wish only to interest others in this inquiry, that they may prove, or, if they can, disprove, what I announce. The proofs are open to all ; the means in every one^s hands ; and it is much better to test novel matters by experiment and observation, than to try to reason away alleged truths, in ignorance of what nature may have to say upon the question. You know that most of the parts of man are double ; that he is very nearly a double being ; and that the cerebrum is divided into halves, with corre- sponding organs on each half. It is a fact, also^ that some organs are often more developed on one side than on the other, and that generally only one side is in action at a time. This is one reason for the variations which occur in the same character. It seems certain that mind (or the conditions essen- tial to mind) is evolved from the grey vesicular matter which forms the external layer over the convolu- tions, and exists in certain other parts where a supply of power may be requisite. There is no perceptible EAKLY DAYS OF PHRENOLOGY. 31 separation, or distinction in the condition, of the or2:ans ; nor, considering the nature of mind, work- ing together, or evoMng results in combinations, could we in reason expect that such would be the case ; but there may, nevertheless, be distinctions, — material distinctions, as real as those of colours, which yet are blended together in the spectrum. You know that there is a division between the halves of the cerebrum to a certain depth ; and that there are convolutions on the sides of these dividing surfaces, and beneath those which appear on the surface ; and that under these, again, is the arch of nerve fibre joining the halves ; beneath which, again, are other parts which unite the different portions — not very unlike the reservoirs, machinery, and cross lines at a great railway terminus, where all seems confusion to any but an engineer, but where the whole is acting with the nicest precision and adaptation. You know, also, that there are certain convolutions on the under surface of the cerebrum, particularly of the posterior lobe, immediately over the cerebellum, and of the anterior lobe, lying on the plate of bone, w^hich forms a covering over the eyes. In the deep fissure called the Silvian fissure, on the side, there are also convo- lutions which do not manifest themselves on the sur- face. It is veiy evident, then, that the functions of all these convolutions are not to be ascertained from observations made on the exposed developments of the surface, which give the internal shape to the skull, and may be observed on during life. The cerebellum is sufficiently exposed at the surface to 3.2 man's nature and develop:ment. allow observations of measurement to be made dming life to a certain extent ; and had observations been made after GalFs method, or by Gall with a freer sug- gestive faculty, the whole cerebellum would never have been appropriated to the single function of manifesting amative feeling. But you see what matter there is before us, and how impossible it is for me, even if desirable, to go into any full particulars. Tlie organs of the cerebellum are double, though the brain is not divided in the centre as the cerebrum is. There are convolutions of a smaller and some- what different character from those of the cerebrum ; and these convolutions are separated into several masses ; and there is also a separation between the upper and the under half of the convoluted surface of the cerebellum. We could hardly suppose such separations to exist were the whole mass of this lesser brain the organ of one faculty ; and, in con- sequence, different physiologists have suggested what they supposed might be the function, but without agreeing, or being able to confirm their theories, or to arrive at what appears now to be the fact. You must remember that the two brains are united by cords of nervous matter, and that both brains com- municate down the spinal cord, and so to the whole nervous system. You know what Sir Charles Bell dis- covered of each nerve having its special function; that is, that no nerve has two functions ; that there Avere distinct nerves, for instance, for motion and sensa- tion ; and how, being ignorant of all that Gall had done, he opposed phrenology; which science does but EARLY DAYS OF PHRENOLOGY. 33 extend the principle of his own disco v'eries into the brain ; its principle being, that each faculty of the mind is the function of a special portion or organ of the gi-eat nervous centre. Anatomists had toiled in vain to make out the uses of the brain : and then, in the study of Com- parative Anatomy, there were obvious difficulties in the way. Such comparisons could only be vmder- stood and found available in an advanced stage of our knowledge, when we had arrived at certain esta- blished principles to guide us, and certain ascer- tained points to start from ; except merely for ob- servation on general progressive development in relation to functional display. Sir Charles Bell thought the only way was to ascertain the functions of the nerves, and trace them to their origin in the brain ; and thus infer the office of the parts of the brain : and this had some show of reason in it. But alas ! what appears most reasonable before hand is not always found to be either available or true, while that which is supposed to be most unreason- able or even impossible, often turns out to be the more appropriate, simple, and useful truth. But — not to detain you, — it will be sufficient to say that Sir Charles BelFs method failed altogether ; and he retreated from the citadel, once more to devote him- self to the outworks ; and, with the exception of some confused results, relating to motion and com- mon sensation, obtained by irritations and vivisec- tion, the physiology of the brain remained at a stand-still, while metaphysics, rising upon this igno- re 5 34 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. ranee, were, and still are, perplexing the world with endless and contradictory theories; and many of those who have accepted phrenology as a fact have endeavoured to explain away its simple reading, to favour some preconceived opinion. Science was advancing in the departments of Chemistry, Geo- logy, Electricity, and ]\Iagnetism ; and with good and useful results; while Physiology and Mental Philosophy stood still. That which was united in nature was separated by human reason ; and how could either advance ? But we find in Mesmerism, which is, as it were, the mind of phrenology, re- newed light and hope, and another means of inves- tigation; and apparently the only one adapted to the requirements of the case. Under Mesmerism, you know, we are enabled to observe at leisure all those abnormal states which in their spontaneous conditions have astonished and perplexed, and, I might add, have deluded or guided the world in all ages. However, the nature of Mesmerism, and the relations of its effects to these phenomena, are not to our present purpose. I observed that under the influence of Mesmerism some patients would spontaneously place their hand, or rather the ends of the fingers, on the part of the brain in action ; and these were persons Avholly ignorant of phrenology. In some cases, the hand would pass very rapidly from part to part, as the orsrans became excited. If the habit of action was encouraged, they would follow every combination with precision : and if one hand would not do, they EARLY DAYS OF PHRENOLOGY. 35 would use both, to cover distant parts in action at the same time. I was delighted with these effects ; but did not consider them very extraordinary, be- cause I had been accustomed to observe the same phenomena in a lesser degree, in the ordinary or nomial condition. I know some who, on any ex- citement of their Love of Approbation, will rub their hand over the organ immediately. Others I have observed when irritated pass the hand over Desti-uctiveness. I have obseiTcd others hold their hand over the region of the attachments, as they gazed on the object of their affection. I have watched the poet inspired to write, with the fingers pressing on the region of Ideality; and those listening to music leaning upon the elbow, with the finger pressing on the organ of Music; and I catch myself performing these actions, continually, as if I were a puppet moved by strings. You vdW observe, besides, how the head follows the excited organ. The proud man throws his head back : the firm man can-ies his head erect : vanity draws the head on one side, with the hat on the opposite side : the intellect presses the head forward : the affec- tions throw it back upon the shoulders : and so with the rest. You see what my aim is ; — not to magnify plain things into marvels; but to reduce marvels into plain things. There should be no marvels in philo- sophy. To a philosopher, all things are equally wonderful. It is simply the rareness, or our igno- rance, that makes the difference. Now, all these 36 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. actions of the natural language will occur without our being conscious of any action or sensation whatever in the part. It is clear^ therefore^ that there must be some original directing force or sentience^ inde- pendent of consciousness or will. But I found that some of these sleepers wei^e conscious of the action going on in the brain ; and that when any feeling or sense was in existence^ they could tell you the part of the brain that was in action. It was not pain; nor exactly pulsation; but a clear and pe- culiar sensation in the part in action. Here I found a second important channel of investigation tinder Mesmerism. But still_, this was not a new phenomenon to me : for in certain conditions of ill healthy I had been distinctly conscious of similar sensations. There is another more positive condition to be remarked, when, after over-excitement or confused action, &c., absolute pain is experienced ; in the same way that it occurs from similar causes in other parts of the body. In pain, Nature, as it were, speaks out her wants, to arrest our attention ; — to draw force to the part ; — to instruct the physician. But the physician has not yet learned the lan- guage of pain; so that, in this respect, for the most part Nature cries out in vain. How little is studied the nature of pains, and their sympathetic connections, and their relations especially to the head ! A headache is a headache ; and little regard is paid to the parts affected. There is hardly one of GalVs organs, the proof of which has not been EARLY DAYS OP PHRENOLOGY. 37 as clear to me from the notice of pains in tlie parts affected^ as from obser\ing the external development. There is hardly one organ that I have not at some time obsers^ed to pain me when in unusual action ; occm*- ring mostly when I was in an unusually sensitive condition : and there has been a time when I have kept myself unwell for days^ solely to observe these phenomena. But we have other means now ; and this is not necessary. Here I must state another remarkable circum- stance. You know that some mesmerized persons are able to describe the condition of others by sym- pathetic sensations, occurring in themselves. They sometimes go beyond this : but this is one stage. This is a sympathetic condition which I know to exist in some persons in their natural state ; and it often occurs to those ^vho mesmerize. \Yhile mes- merizing, they will feel pain in the part affected in the patient ; and, in some instances, imbibe the dis- ease. I have seldom experienced these pains when mesmerizing ; but I have felt, when very sensitive from mesmerizing much, immediately on coming into the presence of my patients where they were in pain at the time, and what was their condition of health. I have sometimes doubted my correctness when I felt the pains to have changed in a way that I could not suppose was the case : but on inquiry, I always found that the mesmerometer was right. I must relate another condition which was more peculiar to myself. In passing my hand over a patient without touching, or knowing where he had 38 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. pain_, I could feel the pain in my hancl^ as distinctly as tlie patient felt it in the part affected. I felt the sensations as distinctly as I feel heat in passing my hand over a candle : and I could tell the character and precise extent of the pain. I felt in my hand what the patient felt in the ailing part. The hand would_, as it were, absorb the pain ; and I was aware of the instant it was removed from the sufferer. ]\Iy hand removed other conditions of disease in the same way. The account published of my curing Miss ^s eye was an instance of this. My hand was always soothing and healing, even to the most inflamed part, when the hands of others irritated and did harm. Beyond this, I could instantly tell when the patient passed into sleep, with my eyes shut; simply from the sensation I experienced in my hand : and the same with each distinct change of condition during the sleep. Thus we may perceive that in all changes, certain forces or indications are evolved. And you see what admirable proofs we have of the action of one living body upon another. You may suppose what I thought of the objection that the effects of mesmerism were only imagination in the patient, while I was in possession of this test, and was easing people of their pains, and even putting them into the mesmeric sleep, for the first time, and wholly without their knowledge. Another mode of inquiry with sleepers is to cause them, on any striking mental effects having occurred to them in dreams or otherwise, to point out to you, one after the other, the parts of the brain which EARLY DAYS OF PHRENOLOGY. 39 have been aiFected^ or in wliich pain has occurred, in relation to the passion or feeling of the time ; and also in regard to the effects of mind upon the body, and of the body on the mind and brain. The ex- traordinary memory and sense of these influences and relations with some sleepers are very remark- able, and would hardly be credited by those who have not observed or investigated them. I could relate to you numerous stiiking instances of this. Beyond all this, you know how I found that I could excite into action any portion of the brain, or arrest any portion already in action, by touching the part, and in some instances by only pointing to it ; and by other means : so that in numerous instances, I could play upon the head, and produce what actions I pleased, just as distinctly as you play upon the keys of the piano. The clearness of the response of course depended on the condition of the patient. In some cases, only a few parts are susceptible : in others, the whole brain : or the brain is susceptible during one condition of the sleep and not another, or at one time and not at another. Tn some cases patients are subject to the action of metals and other substances ; and one substance will destroy the effect of another, or unite and cause a third result. In some cases, the mere pressure of inanimate substances will excite the action of the part ; or the mere pressure of where the head is resting. The different parts of the brain can be thus excited, just as we excite any other portion of the nervous system : — a limb, or one finger, or two fingers at a 40 man's nature and development. time ; or a nerve of the face, so as to cause a twitch- ing or other action of the part. The organs of the cerebellum are generally more susceptible than those of the cerebrum : but there are cases where the result is confused^ or the excitement brings in a combination in its habit of action with other parts. In such cases, you can hardly draw any positive conclusions, any more than from the confused results of Majendie^s vivisections. In a few instances, some parts being more susceptible than others, touching in the neighbourhood of those parts will call them into action, and not the less susceptible part which is actually touched. This is oftener the case with the organs of the cerebellum than with those of the cerebrum. But these are not cases on which I rely; and they are unfit for experiment. Failures in such cases are not to be considered as affording any objection to the clear and decided results from fit subjects, any more than a pain in the special organ after fatigue or distraction, — of music, for instance, — is to be negatived because some men have confused headache from a similar cause ; they being in a different condition : or the single ache of one finger is to be denied, because in some instances the whole hand, and in others the whole arm, becomes influenced more or less on touching any part. Every case must be taken on its own merits, and the cause of failure or confusion ascertained. Thus, failures and modified results often become the clearest proof of the truth already established from positive and clear evidences. I have excited the separate organs INQUIRY rOR NEW DISCOTERIES. 41 of people in a natural sleep ; even of veiy young children ; and by the acting on the muscular power, have caused them to rise up and throw their anns about, without waking. Now, in this last class of experiments, what a startling and undeniable proof have we of the truth of phrenology, as well as of mesmerism ! Those ill-disposed towards the subject might dispute the size of organs on the skull, or talk of coincidences, &c., but we have here as clear a result from the action of the brain, and from each part of the brain, as in touching the piano, or in the rubbing of a lucifer match, or by adjusting a voltaic pile. And can any experiment in nature be so interesting, or more important ? In the next letter, I can, I think, complete this part of the subject, and tell you all I presume you wish to hear from me about the brain and its functions. VII. H. M. TO H. G. A. This last letter of yours is extremely interesting. Let me say, in the first place, that there is no danger of my thinking that you exaggerate the value of the discoveries you have made as to the functions of 42 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. some portions of the brain. I do not see how it is possible to overrate them^ — supposing them proved^ of which I have no doubt. Let us just look at the course of the affair. — First, I suppose, all movement, all operation of one thing upon another, was concluded, before science existed, to imply spirit. The winds, the waters, the waving and sprouting trees, the flickering fire, were all animated by spirits ; and so were the movements of man, — the rolling eye and jerking limbs of the new-born infant, as well as the far-reaching thought of the philosopher. How very lately were still-born children supposed to be damned because they had not been baptized ! Then, almost eveiy organ seems to have been honoured and glorified before the brain ; and especially the heart. How long will the word Heart stand in our parlance for soul, affections, sensibility, conscience ? Then, by slow degrees, the brain seems to have risen into a sort of vague con- sideration as an indispensable, noble, but most mys- terious part of our frame. CAUSATION. 165 XVI. H. G. A. TO H. M. I will endeavour to reply to this last letter of yours^ and the difficult questions you propose, as well as my poor thoughts mil aid me. With regard to the blind lady^s case, I wdll try to obtain for you more precise details. The matter has opened an in- teresting train of reflections as to the possibility of such an experience,, and to the nature of sight. It will lead us to consider the distinction between the first — the immediate sense impression of objects, and the after or image impression, — the paintings or shadowed drawings in the mind when the sense is closed. We shall consider, likewise, the circum- stances under which these images are projected, as it were, to appear like the real or first impressions, and shall also have to consider whether there be any dis- tinction between our ordinaiy sense impressions and the clairvoyant impressions, and the difi"erent cha- racters of those clairvoyant recognitions ; and, again, between the mere dream and true \dsion, and what is the distinction between the sense the clairvoyant has, in its clearest state, of appearances existing at the time, and its picture of what has not yet occurred (that which we term pre-vision), and whether these clairvoyant recognitions, in either case, occur inde- pendently of the perceptive organs which we consider necessary to ordinary sight. I have not advanced far 166 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. enough at present to give you these requisite defini- tions ; but it is something attained^ perhaps^ to be aware of the distinctions fundamental to the in- quiry. The foresight of what has not yet occurred is at present a matter quite incomprehensible : and many will say impossible^ who are in the habit of measuring truth by their own ignorance and limited reason. We who know* that such things are, are content to receive the fact as it is, and wait for the explanation. I fully agi'ee with you as to the necessity of defining terms. I have remarked upon this, I think, in a former letter. In my opinion, there are too many terms signifying the same thing, and too many distinct conditions included under one term. For instance, force, \drtue, power, principle, property, spirit, soul, &c., are used to signify the active character or quality of a body; and yet what distinct matters are in- cluded under the term virtue, spirit, soul, force ! The difficulty of the matter has caused a confu- sion of terms ; and some of these are, of course, absurd enough ; such as immaterial substance, in corporeal body, or free will : and the confusion of terms again enslaves the understanding, ^'^ and throws eveiything into confusion, and leads mankind into vain and innumerable controversies and fallacies.^' I see no method of clearing the way but by closer observation of nature, and by more precise defini- tions of all true characteristics and distinctions. Bacon says, the motions corporeal in bodies, — that * Appendix I. BACON ON MATTER AND CAUSATION. 167 is, the effects which pass between the spirit and the tangible parts, — are not handled, " but they are put off by the names of virtues, and natures, and ac- tions, and passions, and such other logical words /^ Bacon speaks very positively with regard to a spiri- tual nature in things, and says, "It is not a question of words, but infinitely material in nature/^ ^' For spirits are nothing else but a natural body, rarefied to a proportion, and included in the tangible parts of bodies, as in an integument/^* It is in this sense that I have used the term Spirit, to express a rare and subtle condition of matter. Hobbes uses the term Spirit as the contraiy distinction to phantasm. I have just seen the translation of Reichenbach's " Physico-physiological Researches, in relation to Vital Force,^^ with notes by Dr. Ashbumer. Reichenbach speaks of the immaterial essence of light, for which speech Dr. Ashburner calls him to account, and declares for matter only. " It is the atheist,^-' he says, " who believes in nothing.^' [1 confess that I can as little understand Dr. A.^s meaning about the atheist believing in nothing as Baron^eichenbacVs, about an immaterial essence of light. ) But Reichenbach is a clear-headed man, and I dare say he is right enough in his meaning ; but, as you ask about the nature of Light, I wish that his term had been defined. Let us consider what Bacon thought about Matter, which he declares "the Cause of causes,t itself without * Natural History, Cent. I. sec. 98. t Appendix K. 168 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. a cause/' He says,* — " For a true philosopher will dissect, not sever Nature, (for they who will not dis- sect must pull her asunder,) and the prime matter is to be laid down, joined with the primitive form, as also with the first principle of motion, as it is found. For the abstraction of motion has also given rise to innumerable devicesf concerning spirits — -life and the like, — as if there were not laid a sufficient gi'ound for them through Matter and Form, but they depended on their owti peculiar elements. But these three are not to be separated, but only distinguished j and matter is to be treated (whatever it be) in regard of its adornment, appendages, and form, as that all kind of influence, essence, action, and natural motion may appear to be its emanation and consequence. Nor need we fear that, from this, inquiry should stagnate, or that variety which we perceive, should become incapable of explanation. "'' How earnestly Bacon admonishes us at every turn to cast away all theological notions whatsoever from our philosophical inquiries ! — that it must be constantly in the philo- sopher's thoughts that Cupid (who represents the elements of things, or fundamental nature) is with- out parents, lest, perchance, his understanding turn aside to empty questions ; because, in universal per- ceptions of this kind, the human mind becomes diffusive, and departs from the right use of itself, and of its objects ; and, whilst it tends towards things more distant, falls back upon those that are nearer to final causes and its own natui'C, which is but a result * De Cupidine. f Appendix L. BACOX OX MATTER AXD CAL'SATIOX. 169 in universal nature. Again^ he says^* — " Almost all the ancients — Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Anaximenes, Heraclitus, Democritus, — though disagreeing in other respects upon the prime matter^ joined in this, — that they held an active matter with a form, both arrang- ing its own form, and having within itself the principle of motion. Nor can any one think otherwise, with- out leaving experience altogether. All these, then, submitted their minds to nature.^' And again, he says, — " But whilst the dicta of Aristotle and Plato are celebrated with applause and professional osten- tation in the schools, the philosophy of Democritus was in great repute among the wiser sort, and those who more closely gave themselves to the depth and silence of contemplation.^^ T have quoted these passages, because I think the best way towards mending our terms, or agreeing on their signification, is to endeavour to clear our understandings from the beginning ; and this trinity in unity described by Bacon, seems to be a sound commencement ; Matter, Fonii, and the principle of IMotion, or the power or mind of Nature, if such ex- pressions be preferred, as more nearly indicating the varied form and laws of Nature. As a man sees himself reflected in a stream, so Nature, it may be said, sees herself in man^s mind ; but only as a form of her external condition : and by glimpses theolo- gians have supposed man to be superior and inde- pendent of the laws of Nature; whereas, he is but the minister and interpreter of the law, to which he * De Cupidine. I 170 is himself subject. He is but a part and parcel of tlie whole. A flint stone might become a mirror^ in which a philosopher could see himself : but under new circumstances^ this Proteus matter^ — this veiy mirror which had been a flint stone^ — might dissolve away^ and re-form into a philosopher : and, in place of the reflecting mirror^ we should have^ gradually evolved from the principle of motion^ the phenomena of mind. All is change^ — change eternal. Motion is fundamental to the constitution of nature ; and the forms of Matter,, and the condition of ]Mind (which is one form of the properties of matter), are all passing phenomena, fleeting and var^ang as the wind ; equally determined by law, — bound down by the adamantine chain of Necessity. For it is the ex- tremest folly to imagine absolute freedom, or that there is any inertness in matter, or chance-work in nature, or in mind, which is the reflection or inter- action of nature. There is nothing stable but what we conceive to be fundamental to all these forms and changes, but which is beyond sense impressions. We assume a something and a principle, because the form of mind requires it, as a thing essential, though unknown : and it is this which I wi'ongly enough perhaps termed God. It is that which the ancients so prettily fabled as Cupid ; meaning the cause of things, itself without a cause. " It is sui genei^is, and admits of no deflnition drawn from the percep- tion, and is to be taken just as it is found, and not to be judged of from any pre-conceived idea.^^ But men are not satisfied with a mystery, or content to sus- BACON OX MATTER AND CAUSATION. 171 pend their judgment. In the conceit of their igno- rance, they anticipate nature, and pre-judge every novelty. Even the noblest work of Man, the No-^ vum Organon, was ndiculed when it appeared, not- withstanding the great repute and high position of the Chancellor. — Hence^he history of Man is a history* of the persecutions of the world's benefactors — of the bravest, the best, and the wisest men. All this is caused by absurd creeds, and the ignorant clamour of the interested, crying, " Great is Diana of the Ephesians.''' Not being content to suppose eternal and inherent principles and laws of nature, evolving the sequence of events, and all the changes and forms of being, they jump the mystery, and sup- pose a beginning in time, and a creation ; — a some- thing from nothing, and confounding sequence with cause, and manufacture with creation, suppose a Creator after the likeness of Man : in fact, ease themselves of a difficidt}^, by imagining an impossi- bility.^ Surely, if the inhabitants of some of the myriad worlds, which shine in space around us, coidd look upon us (and perhaps some of them can), they must wonder at our follies and presumption. It is thought fine logic, to suppose an extra cause of fun- damental nature ; and yet the same logic does not lead men to the necessity of a cause for this cause, ad infnitum. If you imagine an extra cause, and stop there, what are you but an Atheist at one I'e- move ? And believing that three separate persons are one person, and that the Son is the Eathei*, and * Appendix M. I 2 172 UMAX'S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. that the cause reconciled itself to itsolf^ to the doings of that child it had itself created and found perfect^ by destroying itself certainly does not make the logic more perfect,, or deter & reasonable man from con- sidering the origin of opinions^ and of the various theologies and creeds by which men are possessed. It is very certain that theologians* have failed to reform the world. All our hopes now lie in a true under- standing and philosophy of man^s nature^ when(all theologies will be found to be the offspring principally of abnormal conditions or disease.") Men once be- lievedj and I suppose savages do now believe^ that the earth was a flat plane, and the sun and stars were lights placed on the blue arch of heaven, for this workVs use : but would they have supposed the God of the universe to be taking so much special care of Man as of a few chosen people, on this little speck of earth, if they had conceived the infinite, and the infinite worlds in space, or known that Herschel would see light from worlds by his glass, that had taken two millions of years in reaching this earth ? Let us write dowTi million upon million, and for a whole long lifetime, and strain imagination to its extremest limit, and we shall not have nibbled away a noticeable bit out of the immeasui'eable, inconceiv- able, infinite. The sense of our arrogance might well cause us to fall down in shame before the con- templation of the solemn, I had almost said the terrible infinite. Our theologies partake necessarily of the presumption and contracted notions of a village * Appendix N. BACON ON MATTER AND CAUSATION. 173 gossip, or of the man who thinks himself specially elected for ^-race and heaven. Philosophy finds no God in nature ; no personal being or creator, nor sees the want of any : nor has a God revealed himself miraculously; for the idea is in the mind of most savage nations, because under like influences like effects mil occur. The human mind, wherever placed under similar circumstances of ignorance, will form similar conceptions, and have similar longings and superstitions. But that men in a thousand opposing creeds* should be enslaved by the dreams of the savage, and the ignorant superstitions of an infant state of the world, only shows that the philosophy of Man is but just beginning, and has jet to struggle through an entangled jungle of prejudices into life. Men still worship idols of one shape or another ; an insect, or bird, or quadi'uped, or an ideal image of themselves, a fiend, a warrior, or a thing to be flat- tered and persuaded, like a poor, vain, human creature. '' It were better,^' says Bacon, " to have no opinion of God at all, than such an opinion as is unvvorthy of him ; for the one is unbelief, the other is con- tumely : and certainly superstition is the reproach of the deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose : ' Surely I had rather a great deal men should say there was no such man^ at all as Plutarch, than that they should say that there was one Plutarch that would eat his children as soon as they were born/^^t Now, to create a being to fall, and all other genera- * Appendix O. t Essays, XVIL, of Superstition. 174 tions to suffer as on account of this error (for sin it could not be), and to predestine what need not have been created, to eternal damnation, does not show very unlike a creature that would devour its own childi'en as soon as they w^ere bom. If men will make a fable for that which is beyond our compre- hension, let the poetry be sublime, and worthy of the subject. Let the God be an ideal abstract of all that is unimpassioned, noble, and elevating : and above all, let it be a mystery ; not a thing carved in stone, or shaped out in blood and bone ; a thing of human passions and imperfections, fabricating that which it afterwards finds imperfect, and repenting of having made it. But why go on with all the details of this amazing belief; a belief, not of a few miserable savages, but the belief of civilized Europe ? Then, be deferential and humble as you may, what can you conclude, but, with Bacon, that an universal insanity reigns in men^s minds ? It is quite impos- sible that a mind like Bacon^s, having any belief in, or respect for, the Christian dogmas, could have placed the matter in such a ridiculous light as he has done in the Christian Paradoxes ; and it seems equally vain to argue that they were not his writings, or done only as an exercise of his wit. The Confession of Faith seems only a showing of w4iat the faith of a believing Christian should be, and in the least ob- jectionable form. There is yet very little daylight of intelligence in the world. Man^s mind is twisted into a thousand fantastic shapes, and paralyzed by system and authority. Bacon well knew that he must BACON ON MATTER AND CAUSATION. 175 first tr}" with a new broom to sweep a passage way for reason to act in. He also knew the peril he was in, and was forced to degrade himself and the truth beneath a mask. What has been thought to be di\ine, and prophecy, and miracle,* and inspii-ation, &c,, and upon which phenomena all the various pro- minent faiths have been founded, we now know to be doings of Nature, — effects of abnormal conditions of Man. Prophecy, clairvoyance, healing by touch,t visions, dreams, revelations, and the delusion of be- ne\dng themselves divinely inspired, are now known to be simple matters in nature, which may be induced at will, and experimented upon at our firesides, here in London, — (climate and other circumstances per- mitting) — as well as in the " holy land.^^ In nature there can be no favouritism or predestination, though all things be fated as being according to law ; law which rules impartially, though individuals suffer cruel extremities from necessity; ail evil, however, hav- ing some tendency towards universal good, as manure • " How many things do we call miracle and contrary to Nature ! This is done by every nation, and by every man, according to the proportion of his ignorance. How many occult properties and quintessences do we daily discover! For, for us to go ' according to nature ' is no more but to go ' ac- cording to oiu- understanding/ as far as that is able to follow, and as far as we are able to see into it. All beyond that is, forsooth, monstrous and irregular." — Montaigyie. " Miracles appear to be so, according to our ignorance of nature, and not according to the essence of matter." — Mon- taigne. t Appendix P. 176 :\rAN's nature axd development. and decaying matter are the substance essential to regeneration and the golden harvest. But men fancy that they recognize the doings of a mind like their own in nature^ instead of perceiving that they are of a form cast from nature^ and a response to the sur- face^ or phenomenal form of things without. Thus deluding themselves, they wander after final causes, and by an inverted reason see their own image in nature, and imagine design and a designer, — creation and a creator ; as if the laws of matter were not fundamental, and sufficient in themselves, and design were not human, and simply an imitation; or, as Bacon designates it, " a memoi-y with an applica- tion." To call Nature^s doings, and the fitness and form of things, design, is absurd. Man designs : Nature is. But how little the real spirit of Bacon^s philosophy, and the aim of his labours, has yet influenced the world ! Men are still wi-iting Chris- tian Geology, and Christian Phrenology ; and, I sup- pose, Mohammedan Phrenology, and Jewish Phre- nology : and the facts of Mesmerism are perverted to suit every one's theological opinions ; — to support a belief in ghosts, or in miracles, or in the Thirty- nine Articles. Some are running after new revela- tions ; others denouncing all new revelations, and clinging to old ones. The Rev. G. Sandby's in- terestmg work on " Mesmerism and its Opponents," in which he endeavours to support miracles* by limit- ing Christ's natural powers and insight, is an in- stance. Men do not perceive that the arguments * Appendix Q. BACOX ON MATTER AND CAUSATION. 177 which tell against a new revelation tell with eq-aal force against the old. Sir Charles Bell set about proving design and a designer from the hand. Another gentleman would infer a God from an organ in the brain. Lord Brougham holds out Paley, and the logic of the watch story, and declares that mind does not age with the body, but is independent of it ; all which is most fanciful, and w^holly fallacious. You remem- ber that De ^laistre, a Roman Catholic w^riter of celebrity, has attacked Bacon^s philosophy in two goodly volumes, as Materialism and Atheism. Bacon has told us how" necessary it was to use disguise ; and I fear this masking was carried further than was absolutely necessary for his own security, and for engaging a hearing* for his own philosophy. Be this as it may, De Maistre has torn off the disguise ; and while endeavouring to injure Bacon^s reputation, and do a service to the Church, has done the best thing he could have done for philosophy : and only what, doubtless. Bacon anticipated when he said that he had held up a light in the obscurity of philosophy which would be seen centuries after he w^as dead. He laments that he cannot " dismiss all art and cir- cumstance, and exhibit the matter naked to us, that we might be enabled to use our judgment. Thinkest thou,'' he says, '' that when all the accesses and motions of all minds are besieged and obstructed by the obscurest Idols, deeply rooted and branded in, the sincere and polished areas present themselves in * Appendix R. i5 178 man's nature and development. the true and native rays of things : but as the deli- rium of phrenetics is subdued by art and ingenuity, but by force and contention raised to fury : so, in this universal insanity, we must use moderation/' When a boy at college, he was impressed with what he repeats when he was Chancellor. " In the Uni- versities,'' he says, " they learn nothing but to be- lieve : first, to believe that others know that which they know not : and after, themselves know that which they know not. They are like a becalmed ship : they never move but by the wind of other men's breath, and have no oars of their own to steer withal.'' He speaks of the fictions of those who have not feared to deduce and confirm the truth of the Christian religion by the principle and authority of philosophers. " In short," he says, " you may find all access to any species of philosophy, however ])urc, intercepted by the ignorance of divines." Bacon seems to mean by atheism, the mere dwell- ing on " second causes scattered," — the sequence of events, as if brought about by a chance; and hardly believes in the existence of atheism; — that any one can be so stupid as not to perceive the necessity of a fundamental matter, form, and law ; and says therefore that even that school which is most accused of atheism doth most demonstrate religion : that is, the school of Leucippus, Democri- tus, and Epicurus. The forms and laws of nature Bacon sometimes calls the Mind of Nature ; and thus he is excused for exclaiming, what would otherwise from him be ridiculous and inconsistent, that he BACON ON MATTER AND CAUSATION. 179 *' had ratlier believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that this uni- versal frame is without a mind,^' or an affair of chance j which would be nonsense, and clearly im- possible. But in his Essay on Superstition, he speaks approvingly of atheism, meaning the not believing the dogmas of the Church, as leaving a man to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to reputa- tion. "And we sce,^^ he says, "the times inclined to atheism (as the time of Augustus Ca3sar) were civil times ; but superstition hath been the confusion of many states, and bringcth in a new primum mobile that ra\dshcth all the spheres of government. The master of superstition is the people ; and in all su- perstition, wise men follow fools; and arguments are fitted to practice in a reversed ordcr.^^ If this be true in these times, it would seem that all statesmen should encourage atheism, as a means of preserving order and good conduct. Bacon protests against retributive judgments, and against any interference with the laws of nature, which he considers fixed and eternal ; and the ])ropcrties of matter to be "self-sustained,^^ "as an adamantine necessity of nature,'^ and the primitive matter to be " the cause of causes, itself without a cause. ^^ " For there is a certain limit of causes in nature ; and it would ai-gue levity and inexperience in a philosopher to require or imagine a cause for the last and positive power and law of nature, as much as it would not to demand a cause in those that arc subordinate.'^* "Wliat can be inferred from this but * De Cupidine. 180 man's nature and development. that to require a cause beyond nature, and out of nature (which includes both second causes and the first cause ; but_, in fact, there is but one, the first cause ; and vrhat is called second cause is but the form and sequence), argues levity and inexperience ? but, nevertheless, he added to the cause and causes {" God excepted '■') . That was to save his position and chancellorship ; and he left the inconsistency to be unravelled in futui'e time, when the age was ripe for the whole truth being clearly understood : in which times we now live. Bacon takes care, again and again, to show you that you cannot perceive in nature anything but phenomena. You cannot per- ceive the workman in the work ; that is, the cause in the phenomena — the fundamental cause of causes — which is beyond the power of the senses and the understanding. Speaking of the idols of the mind, he declares against the idea of the first cause being of human shape, or of human mind, and says, " For if that great Morkmaster had been of a human dis- position,-*' &c. In another place, he considers the idea (maintained by the author of "The Vestiges'^) of the formation of matter on mind, or " archetypal ideas,'' as one of the phantasms, or spectral illu- sions floating about, and playing on the surface of things. It is fine to hear the thunder of Bacon's eloquence against the arrogance and ignorance and persecuting spirit of the theologians. Only a few years before, the aged Galileo W8s taken before the Inquisition, and forced to " declare truth to be what the Church pleased, not what was declared in nature. BACON ON MATTER AND CArSATION. 181 but what was in ' the Holy Scriptures/ '' And think you those times are passed, and men are now pure and tolerant ? Have we no living instances ? ^Vas not Lawrence forced to retract his opinion ? And are not those noblest experiments of the age by Mr. Crosse* regarded with religious horror, and ridiculed by many ? Bacon denounces all introduc- tion of abstracted forms, fantastical essences, final causes, or first causes, to interfere vA\h. the simple laws of nature, and of matter as we find it. For when " Folly is worshipped/^ he says, " it is, as it were, a plague-spot upon the understanding/' ^' Yet some modern st have indulged this folly with consum- mate inconsiderateness, that they have endeavoured to build a system of natural philosophy on the first chapter of Genesis, the Book of Job, and other parts of Scripture, seeking thus the dead among the living/' "The absurdities of some among them having proceeded so far, as to seek to derive the sciences from spirits and genii/' It is only lately that we have ceased to believe that mad people are possessed by demons ; and many now believe, as our friend Mrs. Crowe, that the world is full of ghosts ; and others dislike Mesmerism and Phrenology on ac- count of religion, and consider that the cures by Mesmerism are the casting out of devils by the prince of devils. Time, Space and Causation are ultimate facts recognised by appropriate faculties of mind. Creation is a distinct idea from Causation, * Appendix S. I Novum Organum, Lib. I., Aph. 65. 182 man's nature and development. or the doings of innate and existent powers and tendencies of matter; and, like immateriality of being, is a fancy wholly unrealizable ; an absm*dity arising out of the confusion of ideas from false analogy. A man models or re-constructs what is, but does not create ; his mind and will are wholly a result and consequent, and not a primitive determin- ing cause. His mind recognizes the phenomenal world, as that world is to it ; but of the fundamental, the infinite, the universal, it knows nothing : and to imagine a cause like itself is to confound effects with causes, and to lose the little sense which we have, and to shut our eyes to that truth and nature which we might have, and that good which is the fruit of the tree of knowledge. No one can read the Novum Organon, the Advancement of Learning, the Fable of Cupid, or the Christian Paradoxes, without perceiving clearly the true nature of Bacon^s mind, and that his religious professions were mere shams to shield him- self from his enemies. Bacon seems to have been ever practising the craft of his wit ; and he declared that it was impossible to speak the truth openly : that he must nurse men^s minds, and prepare them for the light, and graft upon the least objectionable of the old stock to obtain a hearing. He acted like a waiy politician and a lawyer : and I think, even for the dangerous and troubled times in which he lived, he sometimes overacted. He admonished you to be wise as a serpent ; and this he was himself; but not always, I fear, as harmless as a dove. How- INFERENCES ANT) DREAMS. 183 ever, it may be difficult to weigh the conduct and motives justly of such an original and vast intellect as Bacon's. But I need not wonder at Bacon when I know men in these present times facing the world with a greater hj^ocrisy even than Bacon used. It is time all this masquerading was at an end ; and when it is good for others to hear, let us never think whether or not it is wise for us to speak. Men who think of expediency in questions of fact will soon learn to be false and dishonest, and find for their conscience plausible pretexts for their misdemeanom's. Better to be plain spoken (tempering courage with modesty) : and if the tide shoidd sink us, what matter ? Better so, than to live in corruption. Or, as the Scriptui'e has it in a selfish view, what will it jirofit 3'ou to gain the whole world, and lose your o^\Ti soul ? Or, in other words, for what shall you exchange your love of truth, your sense of right, your impulse towards candour, and the desire of progi'ess and universal happiness, and the fruits of knowledge, — of knowledge generally, — but the know- ledge of Man, and the natui'al history of his mind, in particular ? Shall you know of water in the desert, and be silent, and see men perish of thirst ? It is certainly a startling fact to those who believe the resurrection of the body, that the substance of the body should be constantly renewed; and, at first, this fact seems to favour the idea of a soul, or spirit, or mind, entirely separate from, and indepen- dent of, the bodv. But, on re-consideration, we find, 184. MAN^S NATURE AND DE^TiLOPMENT. as I have explained in my last, that the matter is simple enough, and has its place in the general order and doings of Natm-e. New matter becomes gra- dually substituted for the old, and takes its form : is immediately leavened or possessed with the natm'e of its position, and the condition of the being of whom it composes a part. Each part of the frame gives its condition to the new comer : and thus, not only the brain, but the lungs, stomach, liver, hair, bones, &c., continue the individuality and peculiarities of the person, even to the latent qualities which may pass through one generation, and come out into relief in a third or fourth. In the same way, the memory of the past and personality are continued, and inces- santly transferred from matter to matter, and from body to body, and we retain the sense of personality, and thememoiy or sense of the sequence of om' lives. One thing we must not forget ; that whether we be considered the result of the body, or of the body used as an instrument by a mind -being, we must be equally the result of inherent law — be the result or sequence of nature : for, if the mind be a separate and independent being, it must, to be at all, have a nature or law of some kind : and, if minds were all equal, they would all act precisely alike, under like circumstances. If not originally or fundamentally alike, then the result must be in precise accordance with that difference. I mean, that it is not the fact of our being the result of matter, or the working from and in matter, that causes the non-responsibility ; but the necessity that whatever is, must have a nature of INFERENCES AND DREAMS. 185 some kind^ and must be subject to, and be its own form and law. I mention tbis simply because many persons believe tbat it is only tbe material and Ba- conian pbilosopby w^bicb subjects ]\Ian to tbe rule of necessity : and tbat wben free from substance, be vfould be free in nature : wbicb is an absurdity, and a mere delusion of tbe fancy. I quite agree witb w^bat you say about tbe idea of anotber life. Tbe desire of a future existence is merely a pampered babit of mind, founded upon tbe instinct of preservation. It is a longing ; and tbose who bave it, are like drinkers or cbildi'en. Tbe drunkard looks upon tbe water drinker as a lower species of animal, and cannot understand bis doing witbout tbe desire of drinking. Tbe child fancies its own little enjoyment and promised holiday to be all in all, and tbe whole world of pleasure. The young man is iuAdted to No. 7, in the TeiTace, sees a young lady, goes home and dreams of her, and thinks that on the possession of that one woman depends his happiness ; and he pities all besides for their ill luck or indifference. But, had he gone to No. 8, instead of No. 7, he might have seen another young lady of whom he would bave thought in precisely the same manner. " Such tricks bath strong imagination," and such are the reasonings of desire. — It is, of course, in tbe same way with a religious faith, which is acquired from parents, or from the community in which we live. The Jew remains a Jew, the Chris- tian a Christian, and the Mohammedan a Moham- medan. Each remains fixed and immoveable, as if 186 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. they were casts from a mould, — which indeed they are. Each is ready to die for his behef; for all his hopes become centred in that belief : and yet this belief — what is it but the mere accident of his birth ? — the conventionalism and hereditary insanity of his class ? Every one can see the extreme folly of his neighboui-^s belief : but his own is a divine mystery,— a thing too high for human reason. The lover worships Helenas beauty in a brow of Egypt. The theologian will worship bad logic, bad morality and impotency, as the highest excellence : and, just as the lover was caught by Miss Smith at No. 7, instead of by Miss Brown at No. 8, so, from such a house you may safely predict will come forth a race of Jews, and out of the next a race of Jumpers : just as certainly as a cat will have kittens and a dog puppies. A French- man speaks French, an Englishman, English : but Man is entranced, — dead asleep, — and there is no power in words to cause him to wake, and see these things, so full of amazement and humiliation to his spiritual pride. When men awake, they will not be- lieve that they have been doing and thinking what they have. It mil appear all as a dream. But it is no dream. It is a paralysis of one side of the under- standing ; a lost sense ; a hereditaiy or induced blindness ; but the lights which are already glim- mering about the new philosophy will soon grow brighter, and begin to arouse men from their slumber. As regards belief in a future existence, the greater number who receive this as a most pleasing doctrine of faith, consider that we transfer our affections and INFERENCES AND DREAMS. 187 desires to the other worlds and shall there again meet what has been dear to ns in this life. The wife ex- pects to meet her husband and her child ; the plough- boy to sit on a gate-post, and eat fat bacon all day- long. Swedenborg^s notions tally wdth these worldly ideas and fireside doctrines. Few would care for heaven, if they were to leave all their associates in this life, and become something else. I see no great harm in the fancy of another life, so long as it does not interfere with our good conduct in this, nor in- clude the horrors of Hell, and di-ive men mad, or destroy their courage and true magnanimity. So long as we recognize no spiritual influences interfer- ing with natural law, the day dream of another life may be harmless enough. In considering the nature of this continued iden- tity, which is no more wonder than the continued form of anything else, or the continued reproduction of the same type, — an oak from an oak, a man from a man, — we find the power chiefly to consist in habit or memory, and the ability to reproduce impressions, in the sequence in which they have occmi-ed, and in relation to time and place. Identity is a matter of memory, or an individualizing of the sequence. When this does not exist, as in cases of double conscious- ness, there is no identity. Many cases have occurred in my experiments, when sleep -wakers have not known themselves ; and some have every thing to learn afresh in these states. Identity is memory occurring with the sense of personality. I seem to be the same that I was yesterday ; but I have no 188 man's nature and development. notion of identity ^dth what I was_, where memory does not hold — when a child^ or when a baby, for instance ; nor can I say when I first became a being, or had the sense of personality. What becomes of identity when a man believes himself a piece of glass? In Bethlem Hospital there are two madmen, who disputed which of them was the Christ ; each iden- tifying himself with Christ. At last, some one suggested that one might be Christ and the other the Saviour. They were quite satisfied; and they address each other now as Christ and the Saviour. It is true, these are madmen, and exceptions : but to a law of nature there are no exceptions. We may argue that soap bubbles that we see floating in the air are solid bodies : but if one comes against the wall and bursts, our fancy is destroyed at the same moment. One false case of identity takes away all reliance or argimient, as to the continuity or unity of being from the ordinary sense of identity. With regard to the future, we experience conscious- ness at rest in sleep, — annihilation for a period ; and we contemplate all nature changing, and every form falling away. Stones, plants, animals, all passing away; and we see that Man forms no exception. Sleep is ever suggesting to us the idea of rest, and using us to the idea : and my aged friend is pleased to contemplate the image of a sleeping child, and ready to welcome eternal rest when the change comes. Such is all the hope and the peaceful contemplation of a Baconian philosopher in his 80th year. " All that which is past,'' says Bacon, '^ is as a dream ; ! IXFEREXCES AND DREAMS. 189 and he that hopes or depends upon time coming, dreams waking/^ And again, " I make not love to the continuance of days ; but to the goodness of them ; nor wish to die, but refer myself to my hour/^ — But many seem to think there is something noble in the belief of a future, and of a retribution ; and of a Father in heaven, or a personal deity ; and can- not conceive of the unselfish sublimity of a more philosophical view of things. But what can be more impressive than the idea of the infinite and the eternal omnipresent Law, and principle of Nature ? — that Man is of the dust ; and that consequently every grain of dust contains the latent principle of human nature^ and of instincts and powers perhaps higher than mind has j^et conceived of; and infinite to our conceptions ? What more noble and glorious than a calm and joyful indifference about self and the future, in merging the individual in the general good, — the general good in universal nature ? And what are all these creeds and conventionalities but empty vanities, — a false show, — the swaddling clothes of children, — the crutches on which decaying age, broken down by false stimulants, supports itself ? They are the false props and stays that have cramped and spoiled the natural body, and hindered its deve- lopment in a vigorous growth, and its being able to sustain itself in true simplicity and dignity. But when men have become accustomed to false stimulus, it is hard to persuade them to taste water from the pure spring : and it is only the knowledge of the true philosophy of human beings, and the origin of 190 man's nature and de^t:lopment. all opinions and habits of thinking and feelings that will change men's thoughts^ and temper their pas- sions. We may preach these things^ and men will think us madj or something worse. Truth and the pro- gress of humanity have at eveiy step of advance been thought a desecration ; as Eldon thought it a desecration of the law to propose doing away with capital punishment for stealing a handkerchief. But when we once fairly pass the next corner in progress^ and men acknowledge the laws of mind^ persecution will cease, and be regarded as the extremest folly: as much so as when the child or its nurse beats the stool over which the little one has fallen. Man, who has seen himself only under a mask, will at length see himself as he really is. This will be the greatest, and the only wholly true and lasting revelation in regard to Man, the world has received. We do not war against anything that is true in any one's thought or belief; nor against the rights of men and of property in any sense ; but only against lies, hypocrisy, and delusions of every sort. We desire real freedom, — the freedom of the mind to perceive clearly what is true, and to reason justly on all ques- tions. This only can be the beginning of the reign of love, when men shall no more be irritated, by notions of free-will and responsibility, to revenge and pride, or be pampered in any foolish longings what- soever. Ts^ature and the mind shall then be no longer cabined and cribbed by ignorance of the human constitution, and by the quaint follies of INFERENCES AND DREAMS. 191 conventional fashions of tliought. Art must not trim and deform^ but only imitate. Nature. Reason must not anticipate and prejudge, but from tbe beginning learn what is true. Nor need we fear too much light ; or that Nature, and the nature of ^lan, will err from any amount of real freedom and real know- ledge we may acquire. We cannot go far enough, or dive too deep, or spread our thoughts too wide, so long as we hold close to the true method of in- duction j for Man, the intei-preter of Nature, is himself enclosed by the laws of Nature ; and Nature cannot err : but the way has been devious ; and men^s wildest fancies and greatest imperfections are but the necessary steps in progress. And what a hopeful and calming influence has such a contemplation of Nature ! At this moment it is not I, but the nature within me, that dictates my speech, and guides my pen. I am what I am. I cannot alter my will, or be other than what I am, and cannot deserve either reward or punishment. And why should I require another life, or form of the same consciousness, or the same individuality and identity? Why not every grain of sand that spreads over the wilderness possess a living con- dition ? Why should I live on in the future rather than have existed through the infinite past, — as some imagine they have done ? And what a chance (if I may use the term) is my existing at all ! A minute later, — nay, a second later, or the slightest change of circumstance in my conception, and it would not have been I that was born, but some one 192 MAX'S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. else. The slightest con\ailsion in the world would change the whole generation to come_, and the race of beings consequently for ever. Wondrous thought! But it is truths and who can doubt it? But enough on this topic. Let us to another. The great fact of the Association of Ideas may be said, in the first place, to be founded on the arrange- ment of the organs of the brain, in harmony with the relations of the faculties. Thus the great fact and principle of the Association of our Ideas and feelings may be read upon the plan and associated arrangements of the parts of the brain which I have explained. We observe how the senses are asso- ciated, and how one fact is conveyed by different channels to the same organ, giving the same idea. The touch, for instance, gives form ; and so does the eye ; and so, in a measure, does the ear. The senses help and correct each other; while, at the same time, each has its particular province. The Perceptive faculties are associated together, first in recognizing an object; then its form, space, posi- tion, colour, weight ; and then we consider its pro- perties ; its use, its origin, its likeness or unlikeness to other things ; its beauty, its construction, &c. : and then we give it a name. In all this there is a natural growth or evolution of one perception or idea from and with another. One relation suggests or evolves another; just as from the top of one hill we view the next, or several others : and the whole of these ideas, as relating to one object, group, or ! ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 193 classj may be said to form one idea^ or one con- ception of such ; almost as much so as a number of sheep are associated together in the idea of a flock. The brain is one great organ_, or congeries of organs, evolved together in certain relations, and with certain capacities. It is a world within itself, and yet relating to, and depending on, all that is without. The mind evolved from the material of the brain is an impress of Nature, and corresponds with the nature and principles of the world without, rising from the mere outward perception of things to the workings of principles and laws. The mind depends on the condition of the brain : the brain on the condition of the rest of the body; food, stomach, digestion, air, exercise, &c. ; and again, on all the external circumstances with which it is impressed. Of all these the mind is an exact result ; as much so as any music is the result of the natui'e of the instrument and the powers of the musician. The mind, set in action, passes into its natural and ac- quired harmonies or sympathies, just as the iEolian harp does. The laws are as determined in the one case as in the other, and the results present an exact correspondence ; for it is the same Nature, acting in different spheres or forms. You have the bird^s mind in its song; and you have the Man's mind in his songs. Were it not so, there would be an end of music and the opera. The faculties of the mind play among themselves, and exhibit the peculiarities of the instrument, and whether it be in tune or not, K 194 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. and what strings liave been tightened or loosened. The language of music, when it is a true utterance, is the most perfect development of all languages. Would that the mind was always in tune, and all was sweetest melody, and radiant harmony ! But alas ! for the discord of passions, and the discord of untruth, and the scraping on the instrument in self- considerations, — and the sounding brass and tink- ling cymbal in our pride and vanities ! We talk of freewill. From the instrument not recognizing its own harmonies, transitions and motions, we feel that we can will, but not what determines the can and the will. We do not see that the mind is a true republic, or that the Will, the President, the Executive power, is chosen by the people : that the Will which deter- mines is itself determined. Will is the echo and act of the majority and strongest power : as clearly so as the weathercock points to the wind, and the ship follows the impress of the rudder and the sails, and is carried along by wind and tide. If it could think, it would imagine that it slid away by its own im- pulse and will, or undetermined force. The world would think itself free in its motion round the sun, until it discovered the laws of its motion, which determine its course to be precisely what it is, — a speck of dust whirling about and about, and filling its little place in the harmony of the universe. Free will ! the veiy idea is enough to make a Democritus fall on his back and roar with laughter, and a more serious thinker almost despair of bringing men to reason, — to experience the advantages of knowledge. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 195 and the calming influence of a recognition of uni- versal law and necessity. It is the varying associations of ideas and feelings which constitute mind, and by which mind is in it- self displayed and controlled. In the similitude of things, truth is associated with light, ignorance with darkness, brightness with gaiety, the quavering on a stop of music with the sparkling of Hght upon the water, gloom with grief. Beauty in a landscape may recal any other form of beauty, — as that of woman, or of man : and such similes and correspondences in our associations become elements of art and poetry. Eveiy simple colour or tone or form has its influence and correspondence and associations in the mind, as the instrument of instruments, the mirror and prin- ciple of the whole. Thus music, like all external nature, acts upon the mind, and finds its corre- spondence : and were the brain fully developed and exercised, the correspondence and response would be full and complete. There is music of war; "spirit-stirring drum, and ear-piercing fife,^^ and martial strains. We have love music, and sa- cred music, and songs of humour and conviviality. And a mind in such full harmony and tune as Shakspere^s would appreciate every characteristic by a responding influence on his brain. Thus the cha- racter of music has a conformity with the dispositions and nature of the mind ; and will soothe or dispose the mind in particular ways, in accordance with this correspondence. Nevertheless, if the mind be pre- possessed by any passion or habit, whatever stirs the K 2 196 man's nature and development. spirit may only help to fan the flame of such dispo- sition : and the spirit- stin-ing music which would impel to war, may also incite ambition or love, &c., according to the condition of the mind impressed. Different sounds may become associated with parti- cular ideas or feelings ; and some may not recognize the distinctions between the expression of music and the mere sense of sound or harmonies. Nevertheless there is a true correspondence between the forms of music and the forms of mind ; but the mind must be capable and free to distinguish and receive true impressions, or will be at fault : just as a prejudiced mind finds in evidence and argument only confirma- tion of its errors, and reason for that which it desires. The first principle of Association is from the har- mony and dependence of the faculties among them- selves, and their relations to external nature : and these relations are fundamental, or more or less ac- quired through habit and circumstance. The mind becomes crippled and warped and prejudiced and diseased, after a strange fashion of mis-education and error, and it is no longer sane. Whatever has come together, and been presented, and appeared in com- pany, becomes associated as one together : to the Christian, the bible and religion ; to the Mohamme- dan, the Alcoran and religion. Some have associated fear with a mouse. Others I know go into fits at the sight of a spider. Others shudder at the sight of a pack of cards on a Sunday. We associate evil with a bad man, and make it a person and black, and call it the devil. The African, on the other hand, as- sociates evil with a pale aspect, and makes it a per- ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. i97 son and white, and calls it the devil. "We associate motion with wings_, and so paint those feathered ap- pendages on those impersonated virtues we call angels, whom we surround with light and halos, and give them light golden hair and blue eyes. The heathen gods and goddesses were impersonations of qualities, an association of qualities with ideal forms, personifying or representing the abstract ideas. In visions, when people fancy they see spirits or ghosts, impressions unconsciously evolve embodpngs, projected on the \ision. Such is our tendency to associate everything with persons or objects, accord- ing to our familiar conception. Those who have an impression of the death of friends (as several whom I know have) sometimes, as it were, see the form of the dying person ; at other times only have an intima- tion of the circumstance. And some have a form which they always associate with evil in the clairvoy- ant state, if not in their ordinary condition. Others in dreams have simple associations; of which last. Bacon's dream on the death of his father is a good instance. Bacon says,* '' There be many reports in History that upon the death of persons in near rela- tionship, men have had an inward feeling of it. 1 myself remember that, being in Paris, and my father dying in London, two or three days before my fathei-'s death I had a dream, which I told to divers English gentlemen, that my father's house in the country was plastered all over with black mortar.'' — I myself, * Natural History, Cent. X. sec. 986. 198 man's nature and development. while sitting up with a lady who_, from extreme ill health_, could be held alive only by being kept con- tinually in a mesmeric state, on two occasions, in the quiet of the night, have knowTi her recognize the death, at the moment of its occurring, of persons at a distance, whose immediate danger was unknown. On one occasion, it was a clear sight of the fact and circumstances, though occurring a hundred miles away. This was when the dying person was a rela- tion. But in the other instance there was no rela- tionship. The person was very ill, like herself, and it was a case with which she had great sympathy. r The intimation of the death appeared in the form of \ a black cat coming over her bed ; which to her was the associated form of evil and death. Association arises out of similitudes, — of likeness in the same sphere, or resemblance and correspond- ence in some other sphere : and again, in contrasts. Associations arise from habit, and from re-action and exhaustion, from sympathy and antipathy. We fall upon re-action, contrast, &c., just as after looking at a red spot, the sense falls for relief upon the oppo- site condition, and presents a green image. How many silly persons you see scold and coax by turns ; and ridiculously short turns they often are ! Light to truth, truth to beauty, beauty to good- ness, are similitudes or correspondences in different spheres : and we see these associations in different media by the terms we use : — '^ a beautiful charac- ter :" ^' sweet music :'' '^ a bitter feeling :'' '^ a tone of mind :'' " a bright conception -.'^ " flashes of \dt" ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 199 The sympathies and relations in mind and body are natural associations : and so again is the expres- sion of these in the language of actions, motions, or sounds; and this again developed into artificial signs ; all which matter you doubtless understand as well as I. Habit is a great principle of xlssocia- tion, and likewise of Memory. Habit induces repe- tition. Associated ideas present themselves toge- ther, or follow in regular sequence. If I would recal a passage from a book, I see the page, and the place on the page where I saw it first. If I would recal an event, I place myself as nearly as possible in the position in which '^t occurreu; ^^ h^Lve a pre-notion that in memory we l-^^rrr a fii pg, and look for it, as it were, in a circle, and direct the attention as if there were places in memoiy. Phrenologists have denied a separate faculty of attention : and yet there is no faculty which acts more alone, and appears to be more distinct. The dog associates sport wdth the sight of the gun ; — as much so as his master. How pretty to see the flocks of pigeons at Venice, all fluttering about in the Piazza, at the sound of the bell of St. Mark^s striking twelve ! Most of our muscular movements are unconscious, associated movements ; and results not interrupting but often essential to the abstraction and continuance of thought. The associations in time are more in- teresting, and perhaps least understood. We know what strange, but quite natural associations occur in our dreams ; and often when we are awake. And when we would think well, the more freelv we let 200 man's nature and development. tlie mind act by its own power and laws of associa- tion, the better. Some minds do not sustain these associations in sequence well. They want the faculty of order, and they fly off to something grotesque, or away from the matter. We generally spoil the results by forcing attention ; and in trying too hard to remember, often forget the more. Newton said, that he let his mind rest upon a subject, and waited for the ideas to come. I have often tried the effects . of indirect association in the mind by speaking out my thoughts as they occurred, and suggested each other, wholly without guidance; and I have been astonished ^^ ^^q happy scl^iiences that would occur, and the e: i jgQf>e and originality of the matter, and the mod ^e. expression, — s-wLh as I cannot effect when I sit dow^n to direct my attention and write. One of our most eloquent writers and speakers tells me that he can wTite only by first walking about the room, and uttering his sentiments as in a speech. Again, (and now I must end,) we know how asso- ciating words with music, and sense with rhymes, assists the memory. We should never recal the num- ber of days in each month, but for the lines " Thirty days hath September, &c.'' Of course, the strength and peculiarity of our associations depend on the natural strength of particular faculties, and the exercise of these. One associates things or ideas better vdth forms ; others with colours or sounds. Some are for ever associating persons in resemblance. It is quite a propensity with some to see how like one person is to another ; — the new comer to some I KNOWLEDGE AND NOTIONS. 201 familiar. Some attribute their own evil ways and thoughts to the whole world. Others more happily dwell on the good and the beautiful, and associating qualities of hfe with inanimate things, find "... tongues in the trees, books in the running brooks ; Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." XVII. H. M. TO H. G. A.'- Thank you for the reply you have sent ^o some of my questions. I do not see how you can help making your letters so long, if I ask so many ques- tions as in my last. Will you now please to dispose of more of them ? Others are rising in my mind, while I wait for your solution of these : but I will keep them back till I have heard from you again. XVIII. H.G.A. ToH.M. It appears to me that men for the most part have no clear notion of the nature of science, or of the k5 202 man's nature and development. laws of action and thouglit ; but nature in general, and the nature of man in particular, seems to tliem to be a species of conjuring. But the true physiologist studies the laws of matter, and the whole process of development, disentangling himself from all spiritual and metaphysical dogma, and will take into conside- ration all the circumstances which influence the man from childhood to the grave. He will observe the conditions of the parents before the child is born, or even conceived ; and back through many generations, noting those conditions and tendencies which more particularly descend, and are impressed on the con- stitution, even to the third and fourth generation. He will observe the condition of the mother during the period of gestation, and the influences by which she has been suiTOunded; and after the child is bom, he will watch the treatment of the infant, and the gradual development of its instincts and powers, and the acquiring of names to things, which Hobbes considers to be the basis of the understanding. He will note how the child is trained to good or to evil how its passions are stimulated and directed j and will observe how it is excited to anger and vengeance, often at a veiy early period, and even against inanimate objects; and whether it be pampered and trained to vanity and pride, concealment, terror, superstition, selfishness, and falsehood ; what it acquires by the force of example, and what is owing its peculiar constitution ; how evil circumstances will subdue a good tendency, and how a good natural disposition will triumph over evil influences. He KNOWLEDGE AND NOTIONS. 203 will not lose sight of his object when the child has become a young man at college, where we might expect to find the best education the knowledge of the age can afford. But here he will lament to observe inducements to idleness and dissipation, and vanity exhibited in an imitation of the lowest \ices of society, which the youth is induced to think a fine thing, and to be a kind of wild manliness of his nature. Seldom do we find* the youth animated to solemn aspiration, and made earnest and hopeful in the pursuit of real knowledge. More frequently our future legislator will be found strutting abroad, with an immense Joinville tie, driving a stage coach, horse racing and betting, or 23erhaps doing what is far worse ; acknowledging no higher object in life than pleasure and ambition — pleasure in low pursuits, and ambition towards wealth and position. His studies are not of much account. The ability to make a few quotations from the classics, and a smattering of mathematics, are the chief results of a college educa- tion. The sciences and modern languages are neglected, and he learns but little of general litere- ture and history. Above all, he remains ignorant of himself — of physiology and the laws of Man^s nature, which, of all knowledge, is most conducive to a moral and useful life. He will imbibe a confused notion of unintelligible dogmas, — which are called religion, it is true, and which are vainly supposed to be all- sufficient to guide him through life, and to attain for him a place in a heaven after he is dead. He is * Appendix T. 204 man's nature and DEYELOP:NrENT. taught tliat the first man was created perfect by a being who is all-powerful and all goodness ; that this man nevertheless erred_, and brought death into the world; and that, though he made not himself, he was punished for being what he was : and that all others inherit condemnation on this man's account ; that satisfaction is required by the designer and creator of this abortion for his own doing, and what he had predestined from the beginning : that he makes himself a son — who is himself — and is nailed upon a cross to be his own satisfaction* for what he has done ; and that, in believing this, men shall be saved, and forgiven the sin which is in their nature, and inherited from another. At the same time, man cannot believe unless he be made to believe. He is taught to respect the morality of vengeance, and of partiality ; that man can do no good of himself, and yet has free will ; and that the soul or life can be separated as an entity, and be in- dependent of the living thing. He is taught that few are chosen to heaven, but the greater number to * " It was a strange fancy to think to gratify the divine bounty with our afflictions, like the Lacedaemonians, who regaled their Diana with the tormenting of young boys, whom they caused to be whipped for her sake, very often to death. It was a savage humour to imagine to gratify the architect by the subversion of his building, and to think to take away the punishment due to the guilty, by punishing the innocent. And that poor Iphigenia, at the port of Aulis, should by her death and immolation acquit towards God the whole army of the Greeks from all crimes they had committed." — Mon- taigne. KXO^YLEDGE AND NOTIONS. 205 damnation ; and this is to be considered a most con- soling doctrine. And while men may be born to hell- fire^ they are instructed to love God with all their hearts,, and to forgive one another to the seventy times seven. Stimulated to selfishness by the idea of reward and punishment, they are required to be un- selfish, and urged to set their hearts on high things. They are taught to believe that they could not have existed as a consequence of nature, and as nature ; but that they were created by a being resembling themselves, who is at the same time incomprehensi- ble ; that all nature is a fabric made out of nothing; but that this wondrous Being — the first cause — is himself without a cause or beginning. They are to consider it necessary that man should have a maker, but that the demand of causality is to rest there. When each was a child, he was told that he came in the doctor^ s pocket, and that he must ask no more questions. He is now told that he was brought out of nothing by the great physician, and that it is wicked to inquire further. A lesser difficulty is thus solved only by a greater difficulty of the same natm'e ; or rather, it is thus that a difficulty which does not exist is invented and solved. This restless and craving absurdity of human wisdom may truly be called vain philosophy. Men are taught logic ; but it would seem to be the most useless invention, seeing that they afterwards believe in the most illogical conclusions. They are taught, in fact, to beheve in what is intellectually most absurd and monstrous, and morally vicious and most bar- 206 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. barous. But why proceed j for the extent and folly of all this you know as well as I^ and the horrors upon horrors which have been the consequences of these dogmas, the philosophy and origin of which may now be understood. There are thousands of noble minds now free from the dogmas of Christianity, which they see to be neither reasonable nor moral, nor logically deduced from the scripture records ; and that these records are contradictory, and fail in historical evidence. But there are other minds still in the transition state, not wholly released from supernaturalism and the habit of thoughts which they have acquired; and these, desiring sympathy and a continued exist- ence, please themselves in the belief of a God and a future. To some persons so situated it seems most sad and terrible to be left alone mthout a god upon this dreary earth. The stars and the sunlight, and all the loveliness of nature, but deepen their solitude, and se^m a fearful mockery. They find no solace in the uncertain and transient nature of human affec- tions. What is all the world to them if to-morrow they die and are no more ? They have found that Christianity is not historically true ; and they shrink from finding their remnants of supernaturalism un- philosophical : and argument will start up from this feverish fancy, and mislead them for a time. The horror of lonehness in life, and annihilation at death, leads men to build upon '' their pleasing hopes and fond desires," and create an ideal object and belief to satisfy this longing; and the result is, that their KNOWLEDGE AND NOTIONS. 207 affections are perverted from their proper sphere of action ; which is in the love and companionship of their fellow-creatures. Men must learn to forget themselves in their Icve of nature^ and the love of their fellow-men ; and we must live on our thoughts towards others^ and not on theirs towards us. All else is ^^vanity and vexation of spirit." We must learn to submit to the rule of nature, and remember that unhappiness and discontent are selfishness — impos- sible to a truly heroic and loving nature. Such men as Bacon, Hobbes, Locke, Milton, Gibbon, have remarked on the unsatisfactory nature of the education afforded at our colleges. '\^Tiile knowledge advances with rapid strides, our colleges remain entranced, or hardly move at a snaiPs pace ; so that wise young men have to educate themselves, after they leave the University, and are fortunate if they but gradually unlearn the dogmas they have been taught. Philosophy has always been engaged in unteaching the world ; and it has still a mighty task to perform in this respect. Chemistiy, Geolog}^, Astronomy, Optics, &c., are now freed from super- stition, and have become true sciences. It remains for philosophers to place Physiology and Mental and Moral Philosophy in the same position as positive science reached by induction.* The delusions of ignorance and superstition are doubtless inveterate, and will not yield without a struggle and a spasm : but progress is a law of nature ; and to remain where we are, were it possible, would be convulsion and • Appendix U. 208 man's nature and development. ruin. Democracy is advancing upon society. Neither priest nor soldier can restrain its natural course. Henceforth^ the philosophy of INIan^ rightly under- stood, must restrain and guide man 'oisely and gradually into his true position — the position which his knowledge and his nature demand. But to form institutions in advance of society is a great mistake : and a still greater mistake is to keep our institutions behind the advance of intelligence. It is a conmion remark_, that so long as human nature remains the same, things will remain pretty much as they are. But, on the contrary, I say that with a better philosophy we must advance : and that one day society will enjoy, to a great extent, liberty, equality and fraternity. The time will come when these will not be mere idle words upon a banner, but sentiments deeply engraven on men's hearts, and ex- hibited in their conduct. We may prophesy this with the same certainty with which Bacon prophesied the advance and influence of general science : and it is right that we should do so ; for it is the end that gives value to the means, and life and interest to the labour. Men and nations get on much in the same way under all religious persuasions. It is not there- fore the particular faith that is so essential, but the moral law which their faith binds them to whilst they are yet ignorant of the true philosophy of Man, — of the laws of his nature, the right mode of expanding his intellectual and moral being, and the conse- quences of misconduct. — Pure spirituality is exhibited and understood only through high intelligence. It RESULTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 209 is only by knowledge of Man that the principles of morals can be applied in all their force and useful- ness to practice. There is a certain negative perfec- tion and simplicity in ignorance^ no doubt : but this becomes lost in superstition^ and can only be regained and brought to its highest state by real knowledge. The innocence of the child will re-appear in the wis- dom of the philosopher ; and the lesser minds will be led by the stronger ones, as the sheep w^hich in the East follow the shepherd. From the recognition of universal law, we shall de- velope a universal love ; the disposition and ability to love without offence or ill-feeling towards any. (We shall see that no one can be a true friend to us who is not a friend to all. "VVe shall learn that dirt is beauty unformed ; that evil is undeveloped good ; or rather, that we judge the universal in reference to ourselves, not ourself in reference to the universal.^ Men, for the most part, know not that which they believe they know, nor perceive the depth and breadth of their ignorance ; but each is wise in his ov\Ti conceit, and secure in his own folly : and " the fool hath no delight in understanding, but that his heart may discover itself." He is wise in his genera- tion who preaches to the world what the w^orld al- ready knows, and flatters the conceits of men. A Christ for these times will be persecuted by these times ; for a true prophet must ever be an offence to the world, until the philosophy of Man has become recognized as a true science, based wholly upon natural causes. Men have no faith in truth ; but 210 will uphold eiTor^ believing it necessary as a kind of police force. They exaggerate the danger of a new truthj and do not recognize the good. In what is old they exaggerate the good^ and do not recognize the evil. They do not perceive what is essential to the development of the time, and must be ; but wait the deluge. Men run after every new fashion in trap- pings ; stare at the stupid diamonds which are stuck on an Indian prince, and hurry to see a new beast at the Zoological Gardens. All the while, their ideas " round about in darkness.^' They are ridden down by puritanical priestcraft. The press dares not speak out; and, "for fear of the folk," wise men are silent. ^' Punch" is the wisest and merriest fellow among us. He attacks the British lion without hesitation; but is no snake-charmer, and recoils before the venom of British bigotry. Government, the press, scientific men, and all, are prostrate slaves; not before nature, who is only won by obedience ; not before Baconian wisdom, or Christ's morality : — these are pushed aside, that men may lie prostrate before old wives' fables, far too silly for a nursery tale. And then we hear of miracles, as if it were not true, as Montaigne has well said, that belief in miracles is a measure of our ignorance. And, as for the ful- filment of prophecy, what can that prove but that the power of foreseeing events is a power in nature ? In ignorant times it is supposed to be Divine inspi- ration : and that the supposed miracles should have been reported correctly, and without exaggeration, would have been a greater miracle than that which I RESULTS OF KNOWLEDGE. 211 is reported. Most of that which is reported, and is supposed to be miraculous, is now easily accounted for. Errors and contradictions in the narratives are apparent. Make but a necessary and reasonable deduction for exaggeration, and the whole is under- stood. If no alteration is to be allowed, though error be proved, and supposed miracles are shown to be natural consequences, why then, to be consistent, we must believe in the miracles of other religions, and all equally well-authenticated tales. If men will not be reasonable, we must insist upon their being consistent in their folly. Carry out the prin- ciple on which any folly rests to the end, and it will destroy itself, and become its own condemnation ; whereas, the farther you extend a truth, the more clear and consistent it appears. Those who think their religion true vdW not fear the approach of light, but will be heartily glad to welcome every new truth ; being satisfied that truth cannot oppose truth, but that eveiy addition of fact must help to confirm or illustrate what was known before. Those who are uncertain of their position, or of their ability to prove what they profess and desire to retain, are the first to oppose the advance of science. But we must disregard Man^s thoughts, and think only of Nature^ s truth. Mr. Sandby, in his interesting work on " Mes- merism and its Opponents,^''* has confidently asserted that no comparison can be made between the facts of * " Mesmerism and its Opponents," by Rev. George Sandby. Longman. 212 man's nature and DEVELOPMExNT. Mesmerism and tlie supposed miracles of Christ. Mr. Sandby wholly overlooks the fact that Christ (taking the narrative as it stands) was constitutionally a clair- voyant ; that he had "the gift of prophecy," and the ability to read men's thoughts, and to know the nature of their diseases, and their cure. He list- ened to the voice within him as somnambulists do. He had his attendant spirit, as Socrates had : and this voice of the intuitive faculty, he, like Sweden- borg and others, believed to be the voice of God. He believed that he was divinely inspired, — a mis- sionary^, a prophet, the child of God : and out of this other delusions arose, as in all similar cases ; and the carpentei'^s son, like the boy Davis in Ame- rica, astonishes men with his learning. He prays and fasts, and is subject to ecstatic fits, which are termed transfiguration. He possesses an extraor- dinary power to influence others, and to heal diseases, on account of his ])eculiar abnormal condition ; and he has a belief in an almost invincible force of faith ; that is, if you will but have faith in your ability, you may move mountains. Such being the case, Mr. Sandby's arguments fall to the ground : Christ would necessarily have an intuitive knowledge of diseases, and whether he could cure them or not ; and therefore would never fail. In the same way, he would know whether a person were dead or only in a trance, from which he might arouse him, and even at a great distance. He would also, in choosing his disciples, know those who possessed the neces- sary qualifications, both as regards the mental and RESrLTS OF NOTIONS. 213 physical power. He was subject to the ideas of his sect, as somuambules are to the religious atmosphere in which they exist : and like them, too, he was possessed with the notion of a mission : that he was divinely inspired, and destined to reform the world. Had he lived a little longer, this feature of the state would doubtless have grown into extravagance ; and the world would have lost its Christianity. If we were to receive all we find in the account as fact, what can we say to the sick persons being actually inhabited by devils; which devils spoke to Christ, and on one occasion besought him to let them go into a herd of swine; and that the herd of swine, to the number of two thousand, rushed into the sea, and were destroyed ? That he had not always ^^clear sight'"* is shown in the instance of his going to the tig- tree, and being disappointed that there were no tigs : and are we to approve of his declaring therefore that the tree shall henceforth bear no fruit ? Surely these are not the doings of pure intelligence and high morality. Mr. Sandby adduces the account of the fig-tree instantly withering away, as a matter alto- gether out of the pale of ^lesmerism : but Bacon did not think thus, though he was not acquainted with the wonders of mesmeric power ; but gives it as an experiment to be tried, — whether, by the force of imagination, you cannot cause a tree suddenly to fade. — But Mr. Sandby quotes only one version of the story. He forgets that in Mark it is stated that it was only noticed that the tree had withered the following day. This is very important to note ; be- 314 man's nature and development. cause sucli discrepancy shows that the accounts can- not be relied on for accuracy; and it reheves us of the idea of the instant aneousness of the effect; which is the point jNIr. Sandby rehes on. There are many most distressing cases of purely nervous condition which I have cured almost in- stantaneously. Nor is touching always requisite, as Mr. Sandby supposes. In the case of the man who was dumb and had an impediment in his speech, it is described that Christ took him aside from the multitude, and put his fingers into his ears; and he spat, and touched his tongue, &c. This is clearly a mesmeric process ; and we know not how long the process occupied. The patient was taken aside for the purpose. — In another instance, Christ spat on the ground, and made clay of the spittle; and he anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay, and then bade him go and w^ash in the Pool of Siloam. — Again, in the case of the man with the dumb spirit, after his fit, he becomes " as one dead/' or in a mesmeric sleep ; and Christ took him by the hand, and he arose. — Again, in the case of blindness, the influence is clearly not in- stantaneous ; for, first, there is a partial recovery, — the seeing persons like moving trees. The opera- tion is renewed before the complete sight is restored. — But I need not continue these instances, which nothing but professional blindness in one aware of the nature of Mesmerism could overlook. — Again, Mr. Sandby is not aware that the peculiar condition of one person can be conveyed to another. He is RESULTS or NOTIONS. 215 not aware of the influence of faith_, and of mind on mind ; and that Christ might choose his disciples as fitting material to act upon. Mr. Sandby considers it miraculous that the apostles were able to do what Christ did, and had his powers conveyed to them. It is one of the remarkable facts of Mesmerism, that the nervous condition of one person may influence another in a similar way, and enable him in mesme- rizing to produce similar efi*ects. One person may influence another as the loadstone influences a piece of iron, and makes a magnet. — On one occasion Christ felt the virtue going out of him. At the time when I was worn with mesmerizing night and day, and very sensitive, I experienced this repeatedly, and that patients under certain circumstances have the power to help themselves to the sanitary influ- ence, just as they might attract a contagious disease.* As for the appearance of Christ after death, there are thousands of ghost stories of a similar character. In all cases, these appearances are subjective pheno- mena. AVhen we think of the power manifested by such men as Greatrakes, Swedenborg and Zschokke, * Goethe describes instances of his grandfather's insight or clairvoyance, and says that " it is worthy to note also, that persons who showed no signs of prophetic insight at other times, acquired for the moment, wliile in his presence, and that by means of some sensible evidence, presentiments of diseases or death, which were then occurring in distant places ; but no such gift has been transmitted to any of his children, or grandchildren, who for the most part have been hearty people enjoying life, and never going beyond the diCiwdiV— Goethe. Autohiographi/. 216 man's nature and development. we need not marvel at the prophets of the East ; nor, once admitting the existence of a faculty, can we well limit its development. Christ, the prophets, the oracles, all exhibit features of the same great fact, — the existence of faculties in Man beyond sense, experience, and reason; which faculties are chiefly called forth under abnormal conditions, but are seldom exhibited in a wholly pure state. — In this state, men listen to the voice of intuition, — fancy themselves inspired, — are carried away by the delusion, — and delude the world with their wander- ings. Christ's case seems to me as clear as daylight. — But I will end now, and reply to your questions in another letter. XIX. H. M. TO H. G. A. I am glad I asked you in what sense you used the words " God," " Origin," &c., for your reply comes to me like a piece of refreshing sympathy, — as rare as it is refreshing. I cannot tell you how the pain grows upon me of seeing how httle notion men have of the modesty and largeness of conception necessary in approaching the study of themselves or any other part of nature; and in the conduct of their mere RELEASE FROM XOTIOXS. 217 daily business. Of all the people I have ever known, how few there are who can suspend their opinion on so vast a subject as the origin and progression of the universe ! How few there are who have ever thought of suspending their opinion ! How few who would not think it a sin so to suspend their opinion ! To me^ however, it seems absolutely necessary^ as well as the greatest possible relief, to come to a plain un- derstanding with myself about it : and deep and sweet is the repose of having done so. There is no theory of a God,* of an author of Nature^ of an origin of the miiverse, which is not utterly repugnant to my faculties ; which is not (to my feelings) so irre- verent as to make me blush; so misleading as to make me mourn. I can now hardly beUeve that it was I who once read ^lilton with scarcely any recoil from the theology' ; or Paley^s Natural Theology with pleasure at the ingenuity of the mechanic-god he thought he was recommending to the admiration of his readers. To think what the God of the mid- titude is, — morally, as well as physically ! To think what the God of the spiritualist is ! and to remember the admission of the best of that class, that God is a projection of their own ideal faculty, recognizable only through that class of faculties, and by no means through any external evidence ! to see that they give the same account of the origin of Idols ; and simply pronounce that the first is an external reality, * Bacon says of Epicurus (Essay XVI.), "His words are noble and divine : ' non deos vulgi negare profanum ; sed vulgi opiniones diis applicare profanum.' L 218 man's nature and development. and the last an internal illusion ! To think that they begin with the superstition of supposing a God of essentially their own nature,, who is their friend and in sympathy with them, and the director of all the events of their lives, and the thoughts of their minds ; and how, when driven from this grosser super- stition by the evidences of Law which are all around them, they remove their God a stage from them, and talk of a general instead of a particular Pro- vidence, and a Necessity which modifies the character of prayer; and how, next, when the absolute domi- nion of Law opens more and more to their percep- tion, excluding all notions of revelation and personal intercourse between a God and man, and of same- ness of nature in God and man ; — to think that, when men have reached this point under the guidance of science, they should yet cling to the baseless notion of a single, conscious Being, outside of Nature, — himself unaccounted for, and not himself accounting for Nature ! — How far happier it is to see — how much wiser to admit — that we know nothing what- ever about the matter ! And, from the moment when we begin to discover the superstition of our childhood to be melting away, — to discover how ab- surd and shocking it is to be talking eveiy day about our o-^^i passing moods and paltiy interests to a sup- posed author and guide of the universe, — how well it would be for us to set our minds free altogether, — to open them wide to evidence of what is true and what is not ! Till this is done, there is every danger of confusion in our faculties of reverence, of con- ENTRANCE UPON KNOWLEDGE. 219 science^ of moral perception, and of the pursuit and practice of truth. When it is done, what repose be- gins to penade the mind ! ^^llat clearness of moral purpose naturally ensues ! and what healthful ac- tivity of the moral faculties ! When we have finally dismissed all notion of subjection to a supreme law- less Will, — all the perplexing notions about sin and responsibility, and arbitrary reward and punishment, — and stand free to see where we are, and to study our own nature, and recognize our own conditions, — the relief is like that of comins: out of a cave full of painted shadows under the free sky, ^nth the earth open around us to the horizon. What a new percep- tion we obtain of ^''the beauty of holiness,^'' — the loveliness of a healthful moral condition, — accordant with the laws of nature, and not with the requisitions of theology ! VHu'dt a new sense of reverence awakens in us when, dismissing the image of a creator bringing the universe out of nothing, we clearly perceive that the very conception of origin is too great for us, and that deeper and deeper down in the abysses of time, further and further away in the vistas of the ages, all was still what we see it now, — a system of ever-working forces, producing forms^ uniform in certain lines and largely various in the whole, and all under the operation of immutable Law ! But I need not enlarge to you on the privi- leges of a state of freedom and reality. You know what it is to have no longer cause to blush for the moral character of your faith, and to tremble when a passing breeze finds its way into the old cavern, and L 2 220 man's nature and development. shakes the painted vapours^ and threatens to dissolve them. I will only just ask whether you know the passages in Sir James Mackintosh's Diary^ on Im- mortality and the Theists' and philosophical Atheists' conceptions of God and Virtue.* They interested me deeply, many years ago, not only on account of the solemnity of their subject and the majestic composure of their tone, but because they first (as far as I re- member) opened to me a full conception of the wis- dom and beauty of a suspensive state of mind on the subjects of origin and destination or issue. Oh ! if we could have Bacon back again, now, when science is daily chastening our views, and he might speak what he knew and thought, and find response in the midst of reprobation ! What you quote from him is extremely interesting, and ought to set us studying him from end to end, — separating the real from the pretended, — tracking the vessel in which he stretched out over the broad ocean of Truth, rather than the tubs he threw out to the whales. In reading over again your account of the training of a youth of our own time, I can but rejoice that natui'e is, on the whole, too strong for our perverse- ness : that the brain of every human creature will work, in some sort of balance of its parts, through all the mischief we do it by our ignorance and faulty aims. A^Tiat beautiful conscientiousness and earnest- ness we meet with here and there, amidst the Vanity Fair of such a college life as you describe ! — and what a hail to truth makes itself heard now and then * Appendix V. ENTRANCE UPON KNOWLEDGE. 221 amidst the hubbub of dogmatism and denunciation ! I see^ however^ more and more, from year to year, the moral mischief that is arising from the. loose and uncertain way in which Christianity is regarded, here and there throughout society in England, and espe- cially in the Universities. I shall be glad of any in- crease of Science, chemical, physiological, logical, or moral, — which may put an end to the state of pre- tence in which we are going on from day to day. It would interest you to see a letter I am going to answer from a clergyman far in the interior of the United States, who declares that his people, as well as himself, want only truth — sure that it can never be hostile to holiness. They are not satisfied of the Christian religion being a revelation attested by miracles, and do not see (being Theists)why its value depends on the establishment of such a claim. The phenomena of Mesmerism, — the healing of diseases, thought-reading, clairvoyance^ and pre-\dsion, — have awakened this clergyman, as you might suppose, leaving him with a very different impression of the scripture miracles from that which he brought from college. \If I c^oiild admit the narratives of Jesus and his mii'acles to be historically true, I should adopt your \dew of the powers by which he wrought them. I am disposed, rather, to regard Strauss^s exposition of the case to be the true one, and to admit that the tales are mainly legendary, and a perpetuation of the \ ideas, and repetition of the narratives, of old Jewish traditionSj> In that case, however, the explanation answers alike well : for the endowment of orientals 222 man's X ATI" re and development. with gi'eater mesmeric powers than the western races would ahke be at the bottom of the case. No one w^io has travelled in the East^ aware of the facts of mesmerism^ can wonder at any amount of belief and statement of " miracles/' which there abound on every hand. A^Tioever and whatever Jesus might be (of w^hich I think we know little or nothing-)^ the tra- ditions which settled on his head are easily derivable from the physiological and theological peculiarities of the vace, its locality and period of time. I agree, from my heart, with you about the sup- posed need of reciprocity of religious affections with a divine being arising from a deficiency of moral de- velopment. I am confident that a man who cannot find full exercise for his moral nature in our actual life is below profiting by ^^ divine " intercourses. I am confident that the true moral life is found in going out of ourselves, — that " it is more blessed to give than to receive " of the treasures of the affections ; and it is refreshing to read your strong assertion of this. I look back with a kind of horror, as well as deep pity, on myself, in the days when I thought it my duty to cultivate (against nature) an anxious solici- tude about my own "salvation,'' — my o^ti future spiritual welfare. I should now think this as bad as engrossing myself with storing up means of prospe- rity while my brother had need. How sweet it is to be loose from all such solicitude, and to let one^s best nature have its free play from hour to hour ! NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 223 XX. H. G. A. to H. M. I will look at those passages you refer to in Sir J. Mackintoshes Diary the first opportunity. Atheism and Materialism are terms used by vulgar minds to frighten the ignorant. '' We fool ourselves* with our own fopperies and inventions, like childi*en who are frightened with the same face of their playfellow, that they themselves have smeared and smutted." Vulgar men strive to raise themselves by degrading others ; and when they are foiled by reason, they swear and use bad names. To say that a man is an Atheist is to ^' smear and smut " his reputation, and to cause him to be avoided with fear and disgust, as if he were possessed of the plague, or were a mur- derer, and devourer of human flesh. Every theolo- gian, though difi'eringfrom other theologians, assumes that he is in the true faith, and worships the true God j and that his faith is a revelation proved by miracles ; and he conceives, with a strange appear- ance of presumption, that he is called upon to abuse all the rest of the world, and to strive to convert them to his particular faith, that they may partake of its advantages. But we must judge of the tree by its fruits, and not by its promises. Men have * Montaigne. 224 man's nature and development. faith euough ; but not in the best things. It is not faith that is wanted, but knowledge. Faith will not give knowledge,, but knowledge wall give faith, and elevate its character. Blind faith is a stumbling block : enlightened faith is a clear path, and a heaven on earth. How many significations are there to the term Materialism ! And yet men who ought to know better, use this word as a term of reproach, T\'ithout defining what they mean by it. Words have as many significations as the chamelion has colours. One un- derstands by the term God, precisely what another understands by xltheism. What we imderstand by Christianity, another considers utter infidelity. What one sees as a terrible fatalism, another recognizes as beautiful harmony, eternal and universal law. It is astonishing how much ill-feeling is avoided by bring- ing men to the definition of terms ; by bringing men out of their feelings and imaginations down to the matter of fact ; — to discuss the nature and evidence of their opinions as we should a problem in Euclid. We may express a dislike to hypocrisy, to gluttony, to irreligion, to indecency and worldliness; but a good mind will not dislike the men, but only their immoral condition. Much less will he slander any one for his honest intellectual comdctions. Chris- tians have hunted down and destroyed theii' victims in their turn, as Christ was hunted do^Yll and destroyed. Under every religious faith men perse- cute and are persecuted. Christianity has not christianized the world. It NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 225 is those who are guilty of the like offence who are the first accusers. The immoral woman hunts her sister into the street. The proud man is for ever trampling upon his brother^s pride. The cunning and the vain see nothing but hypocrisy and vanity in the world. The savage destructive priest condemns men to hell fire,— dwelling upon those qualities of their God which predominate in themselves. The worldly mind misconstrues motives, and cannot com- prehend a generous nature. The "unchristian^^ mind calls the Jew " dog.-''' It is not the pure and intellectual that persecute men for their opinions, but the ignorant and the bigoted. The selfish cried out " Great is Diana of the Ephesians : '' the blind and ignorant called for Barabbas. Democritus might well laugh at the foolishness of men. He would sometimes hardly know whether it were more right to laugh or to weep, or become indifferent. Men try to paint a flattering likeness of themselves, and call it Godj and they usually exhibit a monster. It is said that Man is a god to the dog : but this is a mis- take. Dogs fear and follow men, and bite men ; but they do not worship them. We might learn from the lower animals many of the errors which strugghng reason falls into. They reprove us for our fears and our hopes, and are free from the follies of philosophers and divines. But we must mend through knowledge, and cultivate men^s -virtues, rather than reprove them for their failings. Xenophanes pleasantly said, as Montaigne tells us, " that if beasts frame any gods to themselves, as L 5 226 MAN^S NATrUE AND DEVELOPMENT. it is likely they do, they make them certainly such as themselves are, and glorify themselves in it, as we do. For why may not a goose say thus : All the parts of the universe I have an interest in. The earth serves me to walk upon ; the sun to light me ; the stars have their influence upon me ; I have such an advantage by the winds, and such by the waters. There is nothing that yon heavenly roof looks upon so favourably as me. I am the darling of Nature. Is it not man that keeps, lodges, and serves me ? It is for me that he both saws and grinds. If he eats me, he does the same by his fellow-men ; and so do I the worms that kill and devour him." And Montaigne says, " As much might be said by a crane, and with greater confidence, upon the account of the liberty of his flight, and the possessing of that high and beautiful region. Tam blanda con- ciliatrix, et tam sui est lena ipsa Natura. So flatter- ing and wheedling a bawd is Nature to herself." We judge according to our impressions, and the con- ditions of our minds. A child believes that its parent knows all things, and can do all things : and when it awakes from this dream, it is only to transfer its notion to an ideal object, — to an universal parent. How natural the growth of the idea, and the transfer^ Great men have been thought gods all-powerful; and gods have been thought of as great men. " Au- gustus had more temples than Jupiter ; served with as much religion and belief in miracles." "We only know phenomena : and phenomena are no repre- sentation of the cause of the eternal and inherent NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 227 force of nature. — The dreams and promises of theo- logians do not exhibit what men know, but what they wish ; and their wishes are follies. — The sailor wished that the earth was all tobacco, and the rivers brandy. The psalm-singer^s highest notion of heaven is to be singing God^s praises conti- nually. Men " sing to the praise and gloiy of God/^ seeing in him a jealous man, — a wretched image of their own miserable selves. A man can but image what he knows, and what he feels. The im- pressions he has received are the materials from which the picture is composed : and though he cannot make a smallest w^orm or particle of dust, imagines a creator or cause to be the same vain, in- competent animal as himself. The first aphorism of the Novum Organon is, " I\lan, as the minister and interpreter of Nature, does and understands as much as his observations on the order of Nature, either with regard to things or the mind, permit him ; and neither knows nor is capable of more.^-* But in vain does !Man endeavour to search the secrets of heaven by the " waxen wings of the senses.^^ ^How strange is the phenomenon of a mind like that of Mr. F. W. Newman, which, in leaving revela- tion, does not yet advance, but floats over from one form of error to another, and " loses itself in a mix- ture of its own inventions V^ Mr. Newman forgets that many among those whom he calls Atheists have gone through the experience of those religious sen- sations by which he is now influenced. They deny that Nature, which exhibits forms and ends as de- 228 man's nature and development. termined and necessaiy consequences of what is, is designed, or could have been designed; since we must, after all, go back to a fundamental cause which is not designed, but the cause of the designer^ but they do not deny this from inexperience of reli- gious emotions. Ha^dng had his experience, they are fully capable of meeting him in argument. Fit- ness in nature is no evidence of design. That the lungs are fitted for breathing, and the eye for seeing, is no more evidence of design than that the seal is fitted to the impression, or that the two halves make the whole. Mr. Newman would say that we are " deficient in the religious faculty,^' and yet I be- lieve that a predominance of the religious faculty has been manifested in a marked way by both of us, from our youth upwards, and has borne us past all the forms of fiction which are the ofi'spring of igno- rance and a false philosophy, to seek out and respect the real substance of faith as found in Man's nature, in relation to universal nature ; — the substance, in fact, of all the shadows which men, seeing cast before them, have fallen in love with. Mr. Newman says,* very properly, " A God un- caused, and existing from eternity, is to the full as incomprehensible as a v/orld uncaused, and existing from eternity." His w^hole argument rests on the belief in the impossible thing free-will, and in the illogical conclusion that fitness shows design, — an equally impossible thing. As I have said before, * " The Soul," p. 3G. NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 229 fitness in art argues design; but in nature only- points to a law; to the form and nature of that which is_, and of which design is an inter-reflexion. Absolute free-will and creative power are a down- right impossibility. We must be content wdth the solemn^ incomprehensible fact of nature^ — all at- tempts to comprehend which are " vain philosophy and human Tvdsdom/^ But those who cannot main- tain an abstract idea, and from the constant con- templation of material forms, and by the obtruding self, and false analogy with self, lose themselves in generalization, personify and limit the powers of nature. He who does not suppose a personal God, or look for a future, may, nevertheless, be most unselfish and deeply religious : so religious, that he shrinks from all the forms of worship, because he sees in them all but forms of worship, and forms of fancy, and not the spirit and the image of truth. There are thousands upon thousands who have no clear knowledge on any one question relating to their religion, and yet are most proud in declaring themselves Christian, although it be not certain that they possess any one Christian self-denying virtue. Were Christ to appear among such persons, he would not be recognised; nor would he recognise them as Christian. Saying, ^^ I am a Christian,^^ and crying, '' Lord, Lord !" will not open the gate of heaven to any man ; and those who would jostle in before their neighbours, shall be the last to enter. 230 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. and tlie least in heaven ; — in the heaven of a truly virtuous and loving heart. I think a man may be so religious as to be quite shocked with all notions of prayer, and all familiar intercourse with ^^ deity^^ whatsoever. We must pause in wonder before the great mystery of natui'e_, — the hidden truth and the cause, and learn that knowledge is power, and knowledge is wisdom, and wisdom and power are in obedience : for, by yielding to the law, the law^ is fulfilled, and works are accomplished. Christ lived and died for the good of mankind. Socrates lived and died for the good of mankind : and so ought we all to live and die for the good of mankind : and only by forgetting self shall we elevate and ennoble life. I would not accept of " heaven if I thought that others were to go to hell.^^ The idea of a God and ruler is essential in rude and barbarous times, just as the idea of loyalty may be essential, though the king be never seen : and the fear of hell may be useful as the fear of the gallows is useful, — in barbarous times like the present. Creeds stagnate, and prevent development and progress. Christian morals are considered per- fect ; but they will require much weeding and de- veloping before they can be accepted by high and philosophic minds, — by the best and most en- lightened minds of the present day. And is therc no place for man's faith when he has ceased the worship of Idols ? It is the idlest folly to suppose that the idea of Necessity would set men loose among their evil passions. But, that we require NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 231 something to reverence,, and elevate our thoughts towards^ is true. Knowledge gives us a more elevated poetry, gives us the chart and laws of mind to guide us^ and will exhibit to us higher objects for reverence. Is it nothing to have faith in na- ture ; to have faith in knowledge, and in goodness, which is the fruit of knowledge ? Is it nothing to have faith in love ? Is it nothing to regard Nature in all her forms with profound reverence ? to love truth, and worship goodness, and find no place for contempt of any living thing or condition of matter ? Trained in the knowledge of the laws of mind, to find it impossible to take ofi'ence : — what a soothing infiuence ! AYhat a blessing, this one circumstance ! what a foundation for virtue and generosity ! and for peace of mind ! Is it nothing to cast away ambition ? to desire excellence rather than to excel ? to feel a noble contentment in reflecting that you are a part of nature — a form of the eternal ? Is there nothing in that faith which seeks for happiness out of self in the happiness of others, and the glories of nature, — -content that in death the sense of personality shall pass away, and that you shall be as you were before you were — in a sleep for evermore ? — to know that self-derived individual and human power is a fiction, a form, and nothing more ? If the Mohammedan or the Chris- tian would preach to me, let his doctrine be wholly unselfish, or I should not attend to him. — Bishops, the representatives of Christ, live in palaces. How odd it sounds ! Christ's representative in a 232 man's nature and development. palace; and in 1850 years^ cannot settle what the effect is of a few drops of water sprinkled on a child's face ! How wonderful the phenomena of credulity and priesthood ! We have watched the influence and working of men's faith^ and learned to estimate their prejudices and habits of mind, and the force of the different weights which balance and move their thoughts : and when men disparage one another, and bluster about as champions of a faith, we may know what is going on ; " by what string the puppet has been moved;" and he ceases to have power to move us. We cannot be moved, except by the force of reason, and the example of a disinterested life. It is the light of truth which must guide our steps : it is the wannth of goodness which must develop the latent good that is in us. How little those who are pleased to represent human nature as selfish — that even good- ness is a selfishness — ^how little they understand the laws of mind, and how, for instance, the impulse of benevolence, the love of truth, or the sense of beauty, is wholly independent of selfishness ! Of course, as a part of Nature, as a creature of necessity, as governed by law, Man is neither selfish nor un- selfish, — neither good nor evil, — worthy nor unwor- thy ; but simply nature, and what is possible to natui'e, and could not be otherwise. Plato says that " Nature is nothing but an enig- matic poesy :" Montaigne says that philosophy is " only sophistical poetry :" and with some truth in regard to the philosophy then existing, and before NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 233 Bacon's time. However this be, it seems to me that our nature is essentially romantic ; that from child- hood to old age, we are exhibiting the spirit of romance, in one form or other; but the highest truth exhibiting the highest poetry and the noblest romance. We are all heroes and worshippers of heroes. Eveiy period of life has its poetry, its hopes and fears, — its castle buildings in the air, — its ideal and its idols. We are all lovers and poets. The world too is full of insane doctrines and customs, fashioned in om- ignorance ; and each thinks he can see the insanity of his neighbour, but does not see his own. Men strive beyond the power and very nature of the understanding, and repose upon the incongruities of a disturbed dream : but " the sub- tilty of Natm*e is far beyond that of the sense, or of the understanding." Even the finer sense of the clairvoyant cannot reach beyond phenomena ; and if he could perceive the whole process of his prophecies, it would not dip one line's breadth beyond this. Men are for ever running after some will-o'-the-wisp or other, — seeking after gold or power, — luxury or pure spirituality ; — fame over the wide world, or that strange phantom, posthumous fame. When I was a child, and I wandered into the woods after butter- flies and birds' eggs, what a romance it was ! My heart beats now to think of the wonder, the ecstacy and romance of those days ; and when I believed in spirits and hobgoblins, — in Jack the Giant Killer ; and afterwards in Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, and in Don Quixote. ! what delightful 234.. romance it all was ! — the impression of those books ! and then came the greatest romance of all; — the romance of the Bible and a religion. A strange tale that to relate ; — how the impressions came and grew ; how they influenced me, and how they passed away. And then the strange feehng, — to seem to be walking wide awake through the world while in a dream, — men pressing after one wild delusion or another, as if drawn by enchantment ; — and each opposed to each, and nation opposed to nation, — all wandering away, as in " a mighty maze without a plan.^^ It is only when we begin to interpret these dreams by a know- ledge of causes, and of the laws and conditions of Mind, that we seem to be again at ease, and in sym- pathy with our fellows, and perceive our true posi- tion and relations, and the necessity of all that exists in its time and in its place. When people say that there is no longer any romance in the world, it is because they love romance, and their heart is full of it. The lover, the mother, the grandmother, how romantic they all are ! The speculations of trade, even the mind of the poor man who gathers water- cresses, and carries them from door to door along the street, has its romance. The warrior, the sportsman, is carried away by enthusiasm into danger, and delights in adventure. Look into the libraries, and theatres, and ball-rooms, and you find romance the iniling passion. And what is religion but another feature of romance, with its wonders upon wonders, — ^its hopes, its terrors, its fictions ! Baron Mun- chausen is a tame affair to it. And then to become NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITIOxV. 235 one of the elect, to win salvation, and an enchanted life beyond tlie grave ; — to convert others, and win salvation for them ; to be caiTicd into the seventh heaven, — is it not the very ecstacy of romance? And to believe that it is all true ; that the prophecies, the miracles, the morals, all prove it to be true ; the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost, the Virgin Mother, — what personages these are ! Sweep away these ideas, and clear the ground ; — how sad it seems ! how blank the space where they were ! It is hard for reason and for history to struggle against such romance as this ; to throw off the glorious promises, and awake to common life. But every change has its immediate evil. We live, not for the past, but for the future : and wake men must, however painful it be. We must speak out the truth that is within us, even though we shall grievously offend our mother or our sister, or our dearest friend : and Truth shall be to us as a mother, a sister, and a friend. A man is loved for his virtue so long as his virtue gives no offence to the prejudices, vanities, or vices of others. The reformer must disturb the opinions of many ; and he is as a robber, and breaks into men^s habits, and robs them of the opinions which may have been their stay, their character, their w^ealth, child and idol. How pitiful to observe the miser when he is losing his hoard; the proud when they fall; the lover who has just lost his mistress 1 It were almost better that such men had never been born. And how terrible for a man to lose his God, and all his hope of heaven ! But fortunately the waking is 236 MAN'S NATURE AXD DEVELOPMENT. generally very gradual, and from stage to stage. Those who are in the delightful condition of mes- meric sleep pray you to let them sleep on, and for ever. There are many who have a half knowledge that their religion is but a waking dream, yet beg you will not disturb them. The miser would not have you wake him to a true sense of the value of his gold. To throw dow^n his glittering idol would appear to him a worse evil than to take his life ; for it would seem as if it would deprive him at once of all hope and joy, and leave him utterly desolate. How ten'ible is the account Charles Lamb gives of himself, 'J^ — how he had become a drunkard, and was forced to return to his liquor ! I believe few men are aware of what abject slaves they are to custom and to prejudice, so that " be it the Obi or the worship of images, or any other absurdity, when it is once in- troduced, an artful or an enlightened statesman may prolong it for centuries." A beneficed clergyman of the Church of England is no more able to judge fairly of arguments opposed to those thirty-nine articles of faith he has sworn to maintain, than is a jMohammedan able to judge correctly of the argu- ments of a Christian. Men are much the same in all professions. When I speak of the clergyman or the physician, I speak not of any individual or class of men, but of human nature under particular influences. " The wisdom of the law-maker is one,'"' says Bacon, ^^and of a la^v}^er another." * Essays of Elia. "Confessionsof a Drunkard." NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 237 Few men are whollj^ honest : and but few again of these honest men are capable of suspending theii* judgment^ but, when their prejudices are concerned, "have ears more deaf than adders to the voice of any time decision/^ Those who have cut themselves free from all inveterate habits and the world^s ties, may still have their prejudices : but they are bound only by threads instead of by cables. Their circle is widened, their liberty the greater, and their judgment free. Men cannot help themselves. How can a man suspend his judgment on the wayside, when he is already thrust into a prison, and is taught to believe this prison to be a beautiful palace ? He no more desires freedom, or can conceive a better state of things, or a higher truth, than the poor women you describe in a hareem. Rattling their ovra chains the while, it is odd to see how men compassionate others* whom they see to be in bondage. A madman, who thinks himself made of glass, sees clearly enough the folly of one who declares himself Jesus Christ. But the folly which exists about freedom of will prevents men from ac- knowledging the entireness of this bondage, or from being startled at their o^n position. Allien we re- cognise the helplessness and dependence of men under various conditions of life, and habits of mind, we shall learn to sympathize with all, to bear with all, and deeply commiserate those who are disturbed, and awaking from a dream. If happiness be the end and aim of life, as some think, it seems to me * Appendix W. that ecstacy is tlie highest state of enjoyment we are capable of ; and had we been designed, and our hap- piness considered, I think we should have been left to the joys of ecstacy for ever, and each individual multiplied fifty million times, and to infinity. This is not nonsense. Either the possibility or the bene- volence must be limited, if happiness be not com- plete, continuous, and infinite. But these are speculations for poets and the divines. The philosopher has only to do ^nth things as they are, — with second causes. He knows no final cause, nor the natui'e of that cause-condi- tion fundamental to phenomena. Men take up knowledge by fragments. There are few whose circle is complete; so that it seems as if society was composed of fragments of men. A man does some noble thing in one direction, and delights us ; but we are painfully impressed with his shortcoming in some other department. It is the entireness, the compass of the circle, the universality, that is the greatness of Bacon. His greatness is more in the matter even than in the method. He urged the importance of phrenology, or a physiological account of the mind. He fully recognised the importance of those matters which come under the term Mesme- rism. He suggested the homoeopathic character of medicine. He recognised the principle urged by the author of " Vestiges of Creation,^^ &c. The highest object of a philosopher should be universality, and to attain to that state in which we may appreciate and enjoy all things ; recognising the true value and NATURAL HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 239 relations of every character^ condition^ and circnm- stance ; our knowledge being so full^ and our enjoy- ments so high, that we regret nothing. A truly enlightened and noble mind would not be subject to gi'ief. But our religious systems have done their part, for good and for evil. They are now lumber, blocking up the path of knowledge ; that knowledge which must push them all out of the way. A selfish theo- logian is not for this age. His theology prevents the admission of higher truths, and the development of man^s nobler nature. Strange as it may appear, and impossible as it may seem to so many, pie Christian religion is, in fact, and will soon be generally, re- cognised as no better than an old wife^s fable.] Those who make the Bible an oracle tell us that the earth was created 4,000 years before Christ. Science declares that the piece of rock over which the waters of Niagara fall has taken at least 30,000 years to wear away. I should think Lyell a better authority than Moses on such a subject. That man is of the dust, and to the dust returns, is time ; and the dust itself may return to what it was before it was dust ; but that the earth is cursed, and that labour is an evil, is not true. And what has become of Eden, and the tree of life preseiTcd by the Cherubim at the eastern gate, and by the flaming sword which turned every way ? And it will one day be asked, what has become of Christianity and Mohammedanism, and Judaism, and Buddhism, and Fohism. The Bible will be a curious and charmins: book for those days. ,.L' 240 man's nature and deahelopment. ^1 when men will be burning all rubbish of theologies L ,-) ■ which fills our libraries But here I am ranning on like a n old go ssip^ when I simply wished to saj^, that to believe in a cause of the phenomena which we call Nature^ and which constitutes the thinking man^ seems essential to all reasoning beings. I am far from being an Atheist, as resting on second causes. As well might we, resting on the earth, deny that there is any depth beneath, or, living in time, deny eternity. I do not say, therefore, that there is no God : but that it is extravagant and irreverent to imagine that cause a Person. All we know is phenomena : and that the fundamental cause is wholly beyond our conception. In this I do not suspend my judgment : but rather assert plainly that of the motive power or principle of things we know absolutely nothing, and can know nothing : and that no form of words could convey any knowledge of it : and that no form of thought could imagine that which is wholly aside of Nature, (as Natm-e is to us,) and of the nature of the mind, and, as it were, behind the understanding. A " cause of causes " is an unfathomable mystery. Phenomena necessarily have a certain form and order which we term Law. The most fundamental and general law is what Bacon terms Forms. I cannot believe in a manufacturing God as implied in the idea of a Creator, and a creation ; nor can I believe in any beginning or end to the operations of Nature. The cause in nature or of nature is eternal and immutable. The earth and stars may pass away NATURAX HISTORY OF SUPERSTITION. 241 into otlier forms; but the law is eternal. Man, animals, plants, stones, are consequently in nature. The mind of j\Ian, the instincts of animals, the sym- pathies (so to speak) of plants, and the properties of stones, are results of material dev^elopment ; that development itself being a result of the properties of matter, and the inherent cause or principle which is the basis of matter. If to have this conception of things is to be an Atheist, then am I an Atheist. If to renounce all idolatiy, and to repose upon the deep and solemn conviction of an eternal and neces- sary cause, — such a Cause as that, with our faculties, we could not know, or, as it is expressed, ^^ could not see and live ;" — if this be atheism or materialism, — be it so. I care not about terms. I hold that there never has been, or can be, any miracle, or interruption of the laws of nature : " for certain it is,^^ says Bacon,* " that God worketh nothing in nature but by second causes : and if they would have it otherwise believed, it is mere imposture, as it were in favour towards God, and nothing else but to offer to the author of truth the unclean sacrifice of a lie.^^ Spinoza was not an Atheist, but rather what he has been called, — "a god-intoxicated man." There is a vast number of superior minds which clearly see that all religions founded upon supposed revelations exhibit a low morality, and are unsup- ported by fact or history, but have not yet cleared * Advancement of Learning, Book I. M 242 man's nature and development. themselves of self-delusion. They want more support and companionship than they find in society, owing to this undeveloped nature and ignorance ; and they imagine an ideal, and take the want for a proof of this ideal being real. Again, they have an instinct of life, and consider this a proof of a future existence, and say, " Plato, thou reasonest well ; else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, — this longing after immortality.'' And thirdly, they feel them- selves in a measure free, and have been accustomed to the untrue and immoral doctrine of moral respon- sibility; and consider this sense of freedom and responsibility proof against mind being subject to law. In the same way they might say, being accus- tomed to wars, therefore war is right; that their great ancestors painted their skins and ate one another ; and therefore to paint our skins and eat one another is right : that we have a sense that the sun goes round the earth, and therefore Galileo was wrong. When our feelings guide reason, instead of reason searching into the cause of our feelings, thus it has been. — There is a rivalry going on now between the insanity doctors and the judges. The doctor says, by the laws of mind, this man is not respon- sible ; but the judge insists on opposing the laws of the land to the laws of nature, and declares the man a criminal. The newspapers take up the mat- ter, and write about the shocking doctrine of a man not being able to resist an impulse ; for newspapers but echo the opinions, prejudices, and ignorance of the world, or of a party. So the confusion goes on ; NATURAL HISTORY OY SUPERSTITION. 243 and the most absurd contradictions and shifts occur in the courts of law ; and the question remains a difficulty, and as unsettled as ever. The question still is urged, what is the limit of Man's responsi- bility ? You may as well try to ascertain the limits of time, and where eternity begins. The folly of all this is, that men judge by their feelings, and not by their reason and the fact : and again, from their want of faith in truth ; for they will say, '' suppose this thing to be true, it is not wise to say so :'' which is the presumption of human wisdom. A wise churchman hath said, "Whenever I perceive any glimmering of truth before me, I readily pursue, and endeavour to trace it to its source, without any reserve or caution of pushing the discovery too far, or opening too fresh a glare of it to the public/' Until the philosophy of human nature be admitted among the sciences, and laws and material conditions of mind understood, it seems to me that we are little removed from savages, and are still living in the dark ages, — romancing rather than using our " gift of reason .'' All that a judge and juiy have to ascertain is how a man has behaved : but it remains for wiser men than judges and jurias at present are to say what treatment the moral patient requires ; the undergoing which treatment will be the best check upon other inferior natures. We must remove the gallows, and no more use the rod; for these are not instruments of reform and civilization, but the instruments of barbarism* and the cause of brutality. * Appendix X. M 2 244 man's NATI3EE AND DEVELOPMENT. Hell drives men to despair and to madness : the gallows ripens crime, and brutalizes and degrades a nation. How men can repeat tlie Lord's Prayer, and hang a man in the same breath, is astonishing, and exhibits the utter depravity of a Christian Legislation. XXI. H. M. TO H. G. A. Ah ! how true it is that Christianity has not, as you say. Christianized the world ! There is some- thing curious in the spectacle of the embaiTassment of eveiy sect of Christians in accounting for this fact. I know no subject on which there is more miserable floundering among incompatible views and untenable assertions. From those who, with a foregone conclusion, set about estimating how much Christianity has done for the world, to those who give the matter up, and declare the delay to be a mysteiy of Providence, I find none with whom I can for a moment agree. To me, the wonder would be if it had Christianized the world. Its unfitness for sa\ing the race, — for an universal reception by mankind, — seems to be shown clearly enough by the rise of Mohammedanism, and by the spread of that faith so far beyond the extent that Christianity ever THEOLOGY AND SCIENCE. 245 attained as to include, in our day, a fifth part of the whole human race. That religion, imperfect as we see it to be, met needs and gratified faculties, among certain races of men, which Christianity wholly neglected. We are not of the races whose needs could be met by Mohammedanism: nor are we supplied, even on the most supei-ficial view, by what Christianity ofi'ers us. As the omission of a provision for the antagonistic at once with the fatalistic faculties of men made Mohammedanism necessary, so the neglect, amounting to discoun- tenance, by Christ, of the domestic passions and affections, nullifies its operation with us. After all the straining of divines to make the most of the Can a marriage, and of all incidental mention of any of the family relations of the disciples, there remains an unquestionable vacancy in regard to the passions and affections which are of the most importance in our life. It is not necessary that there should have been either teaching or sentiment in regard to the domestic institutions which are still of high import- ance among ns : such as the conjugal and parental, as at present existing ; because these, and all group- ings into households by the rule of marriage and blood-relationship, may be easily conceived to be a matter of rule and arrangement, and therefore of limited duration ; but the passions and affections of which these arrangements are the temporary form, seem not to be recognized by Christianity, — or, if at all, not in any proportion to their place among our 246 man's nature and development. faculties. — Yet more striking, perhaps, is the ignoring of the faculties, and their action, which are concerned in the pursuit of science and speculative truth. But there is no need to dwell on the particular omissions, while the fact is before us that Christianity has not Christianized the world, nor has the slightest pros- pect at present of doing so, — failing even to produce the remotest likeness of itself where it is most loved and honoured. From some once Christian nations it has avowedly died out : and among us, and in America, where it is supposed to be held in its highest purity, it fails to make men less worldly, more sincere, more courageous, or more kindly, than they are elsewhere. At home, we have bishops living in palaces, while hundreds and thousands of the people are neither taught nor duly fed : and in America, we see the clergy, and prayerful merchants and professional men, taking the aristocratic and oppressive side on the slavery question, — rushing to conquest, grasping at wealth, and indulging in a conceit and boasting as little compatible with the spirit of the Gospel as the march of a caravan to Mecca, or the fetish rites of the savage on the Niger or the Ganges. — And we have quite as much, hap- pily, of the breaking out of the higher as of the lower impulses of men, in opposition to Christianity, or independence of it. We have ^' nature bm-sting through theology" in an upward, as well as a do\^Ti- ward direction. What an insult it is to our best moral faculties to hold over us the promises and I THEOLOGY AND SCIENCE. 247 threats of heaven and hell, as if there were nothing in us higher* than selfish hope and fear ! Did you ever meet with those anecdotes of Wilberforce and Clarkson, which, put together, make one of the most instructive stories I know ? They give us the cha- racters of the two friends, and ofi'er us very much more. — Some one was one day praising Wilberforce to his face for his toils and sacrifices on behalf of the slave. " Oh ! you know I must," said the good man, w^ho w^as quite unconscious how much better he was than the doctrine he professed. " You know I must do this work, for the sake of my salvation. I must save my immortal soul." At another time and place, a pious friend admonished Clarkson to attend to his religious duties, inquiring w^hether he had not been neglecting the safety of his immortal soul. " ^ly soul !" said the simple old man, as he sat rubbing his knees, wdth his earnest, business-like look; '^why, I don't know. I have been so busy about these poor negroes, that I don't think I have thought at all about my own soul." "VYho would not have been the Clarkson here ? though we all know that Wilberforce was far above being benevolent from selfishness, however he thought it his duty to persuade himself that such were his reasons. If it is argued that such views of Christianity as he held were corrupt, — that the primitive Christianity did not promise and threaten the popular heaven and * Appendix Y. 248 man's nature and development. hell^ I agree to tlie statement : but then the fact comes out clearer than ever^ that, instead of saving men_, Christianity has become corrupt_, and tends to degrade them : — a liability which could not occur to a saving revelation. If it is now wanting in purity, and was always wanting in universality, it seems perverse to claim for it the dignity of a revelation sent to save the human race. And then comes the obvious question which must always recur in regard to any revelation. Is that which is said to be revealed within the compass of the human faculties, or is it not ? If not, we have a mere jingle of words. If the matter cannot be received and comprehended, it is no revelation. If, on the other hand, it can be compassed by the human faculties, it could, of course, be attained by them through their natural action. The common escape from this question is by the assertion that revelation anticipates Man's natural knowledge. To say nothing of the bareness of the assumption here, it is clear that when the knowledge is arrived at in natural course, the revelation expires. It is proved an in- strument of temporary use, and falls to pieces when done with ; an end far different from that which is supposed to await Christianity. But how veiy different from this is in truth the direction of our faculties ! How very far is the knowledge they give us from confirming the essential doctrines of any religion declared to be revealed ! The history of the rainbow, as instanced in one of your letters, is a good epitome of the history of the THEOLOGY AND SCIENCE. 249 connection of the universe with the mind of Man from the beginning. Everything that moved^ — everything that was not pei-manent and stationary, — was at first a sign and a revelation_, in the absence of science. From the moment when science was con- ceived of, the exorcism began ; and it has been going on ever since. Spirits have been driven out wherever she has turned her hght, wherever she has fixed her gazCj wherever her firm and gentle voice has bidden them come forth, and trouble the timid no more. There is much yet to do ; but enough is done to show what must be the fate of all remaining dreams and delusions. The fresh dawn of science has for some time been brightening upon the nightmare period of theology ; and the full and perfect day is the surest prophecy afloat in the universe. The great step of all is achieved, — the learning what knowledge is. Even theologians have got so far as to struggle to show that science and revelation can be made to agree. In this, we know, they will not succeed ; but it is a testimony to the strength and consideration which science has attained. 'WTiile to those who are outside of the theological haze, the prospect of the issue appears as clear as the horizon at noonday, it is a strange spectacle to them to witness the tumult caused by Popish aggression, and other quarrels within the theological enclosure, at the same time that a power greater than that of Pope or Prerogative, of Councils or Chui'ches, is steadily advancing to the overthrow of them all. It should, M 5 250 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. however^ be called rather a renovation than an over- throw : for Science can abolish nothing but what is unreal ; and then^ only in order to substantiate what is real. Her office is to take out the vital principle from forms, once beautiful, when they begin to grow hideous with age, and to transfuse it into new forms of beauty which we may love without fear and without disgust. She comes to relieve us from our liag-ridden state, and to bring about us forms as fresh as the morning, and as beautiful as the spring. When we see the Pope and the Church about to fly ofi", — ^two old witches on broomsticks,, — it is an odd sight to see their wrangling before they start ; and but for the genuine affections and serious moral associations of so many persons that are involved in the struggle, it would be purely ludicrous. I have run on till I may have reminded you, to my own disadvantage, of Bacon^s warning not to think about theology when pursuing science, or science when pursuing theology. But I believe it has been natural to us both, and even inevitable, to contem- plate theology to the extent that we have done, because it is at present an impediment in the way of science. We do not turn aside after it, I think; but finding it in our way, we discuss it, and pass on. Will you now pass on to the questions I asked you ? — about the connection between light and sight ; and about how you conceive our consciousness of identity to run through all our life, while the material of life is incessantly changing ; and also about how CENTRAL LAW AND PERVASIVE UNITY. 251 you conceive we may set to work to imagine tlie manner of tlie fact that we know to be fact, — that djing people impress others at a distance with a knowledge,, by sensation, that the process of death is taking place ? XXIL H. G. A. TO H. M. How natural it was for men to use false similes ! for instance, to liken to the making of a loaf of bread the material existence and growth of the corn out of which the bread was made. We are so apt to forget that man creates nothing ; that to invent or make, is but to place materials in juxtaposition j and that Nature does all the rest ! All the effects of Nature, and all the doings of Man, who is part of Nature, are the consequents of the interaction of matter, of the influence of body on body. Science has brought us to this ; and we must not let the truth escape us. '^ The mind of Man,'^ says Bacon, " is like an enchanted glass ; full of superstition and imposture, if it be not delivered and reduced.^^ — " Nay,* it is not credible, till it be opened, what a * Advancement of Learning. Idols of the Mind. 252 man's nature and development. number of fictions and fancies the similitude of human action and arts, together with making of Man com- unis mensura, have brought into natural philosophy, not much better than the heresy of the anthropomor- phites, bred in the cells of gross and solitary monks; and the opinions of Epicurus, answerable to the same in heathenism, who supposed the gods to be in human shape. And therefore, Velleius, the Epicurean, needed not to have asked why God should have adorned the heaven with stars, as if he had been an iEdihs ; one that should have set forth some magni- ficent shows or plays. For if that great Work- master had been of a human disposition, he would have cast the stars into some pleasant and beau- tiful works and orders, like the frets in roofs of houses j whereas one can scarce find a posture in square, or triangle, or straight line, among such an infinite number j so differing an harmony there is between the spirit of Man, and the spirit of Nature.-'^ In the infancy of knowledge, men look upon the growth of a tree and the birth of an animal as mira- culous. The bursting forth of the foliage in Spring is as if the earth had been toufched by the wand of a magician : as if a great magician had said, " Let there be new growth and beauty over the earth ; '^ and growth and beauty were. The sunset was the showing forth of gloiy, and the stimulus to praise and worship. The rainbow and the eclipse are as signs in the heavens. The sun is made to shine for man : the moon and the myriad stars are lights set up to shine for man, — the lamp-lighting for the CENTRAL LAW AND PERVASIVE UNITY. 253 night's use. It was yet to be known that the sun which was to rule the day^ was the cause of the day. Day and nighty it was said, were created on the first day, and the sun, moon, and stars on the fourth day. It was not knowTi that the sun, and the earth, and moon, are but atoms in the universe. The thunder was the voice of the Great Spirit ; the hghtniug, the thunderbolt, was the instrument of his vengeance. The Great Spirit was busy in the battle field, and the plague was the effect of his wTath. Misfortunes and good fortune were all the doings of the Great Spirit. — Under such ideas, men blindly submitted to an in- sci-utable destiny, and believed in the most fatal of fatalisms. Or, if they exerted themselves, it w^as in prayer and beseechings ; in offerings, to propitiate their offended God. Science is gradually leading through these notions of the cave into open daylight, by showing the undeviating laws of nature : and thus men are gradually drawn out of the church into the lecture-room. The divine will become the philoso- pher ; and the philosopher the divine. Knowledge is power, and rules the mind, as well as enables the mind to rule. In a transition state, men may reject innovation, and storm, and feel deeply shocked, and most indignant at the new doctrine ; while Science, like the needle, guides them through the darkness, and shows the cause of the storm, and how the storm of the mind is related to the storm in the clouds ; how they are the same foot-prints of Nature on dif- ferent surfaces or spheres. From a knowledge of particular laws, we gain a 254 man's nature and development. notion of universal Law : and from this occurs the idea of a Unity in Nature, just as from the finite we suppose the infinite, and universality. I remem- ber when a youth, sitting on the marble rocks of Devonshire, to rest, after investigating the natui'e of the marbles and the plants of the district. I had observed that certain dark veins in the marble must have been cracks, filled up by vegetable deposits, which afterwards became stone : and then I thought of the diamond which I had been told was convert- ible into charcoal : and I picked up a blade of grass and asked myself, " What was this a month ago ? And those sheep, — what were they a few months ago ? And myself, — what was I a few years back ? And will not the grass grow fresh upon my grave when I am dead ? And what was the substance of the globe before it took the form of chalk and clay and silex, — vegetables and thinking substances V And I became impressed with the fact that Nature is one, and that all things are but varieties of the same material : and I was elated with the idea, which seemed to me to be of vast consequence ; and I determined to collect specimens and facts to illustrate the notion. I was not then awai-e that the notion was as old as the hills ; that the ancients, with less fact to support them, had thought the same ; and that the alchemists, in the same belief, were seeking how to convert one sub- stance into another. Science is now afi'ording proof of what was before only conjecture ; though a conjecture ha^dng the ap- pearance of a necessary consequence or fact, Liebig CENTRAL LAW AND PERVASIVE UNITY. 255 says,* " Isomorpliism, or the quality of form of many chemical compounds having a different composition, tends to prove that matter consists of atoms, the mere arrangement of which produces all the proper- ties of bodies. But when we find that a different ar- rangement of the same elements gives rise to various physical and chemical properties, and a similar ar- rangement of different elements produces properties very much the same, may we not inquire whether some of those bodies which we regard as elements, may not be merely modifications of the same sub- stance, whether they are not the same matter in dif- ferent states of arrangement ? &c." Thus we draw the circle of facts closer and closerf to the centre, which is Unity. In this centre the Mind holds its position, and is enabled to take in the whole range of facts. Not as before, to be whirling round and round in a little eddy of fact : but floating down the wide stream of knowledge. Bacon was very near the centre of the circle : and consequently, how few have understood him ! But, while we dilate the sight in the sense of the unity of Nature, and the relations of the sciences, we must not forget to contract the sight to every particular and circumstance ; that nothing may be omitted, and Natm*e may be searched for the truth which is said to lie at the very bottom of the well : for that which is most potent, and has most the character of universality, is most hid, and least palpable to the ordinary sense, indolently applied. — + Appendix Z. 256 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT, Bacon compared knowledge to a pyramid : physical facts nearest the ba?e^ and gradually narrowing and rising to metaphysics : and again^ to a tree, in which there is no division ; but all the branches form a whole, and unite in one stem. And this is the true cosmical view of Nature : the sense of variety in unity, and unity in variety : the whole in the parts, and the parts in the whole ; all of one growth and origin, and consequently presenting those true correspondences, exhibiting the same law under various aspects, and all evolved, and fitting together as closely as the seal to the print, each symbolical of all, and all of each. As it is with the conditions of matter, so it is with the properties of matter. It is now recognised by Faraday and others, that all the properties of matter are but various conditions of the same : that light, heat, electricity, magnetism, chemical affinity, &c., are convertible, or evolved one by the other. This wondrous fact is now exhibited, daily, at the Polytechnic Institution. Decompose one grain of water, and the power which held the particles of gas together in the form of water evolves into as much electricity as we have exhibited in an ordinary thun- der-storm. Electricity is evolved in a most brilliant light which lives under water, the decomposing or consuming substance being at a distance ; and the influence or power passes unobserved along the wire, and is manifested at the end. Thus flame is not, as was supposed, a heated substance in the ordinary sense. Instead of light, intense heat may be made to occur or magnetism. The lecturer suggests the CENTRAL LAW AND PERYASm: UNITY. 257 question,, — What is electricity, liglit, heat, &c. ? The cause, he says, is not yet discovered : but he would more properly have said that the cause never could be discovered ; that we know only the form of matter, and not its cause. So, likewise, we know only the foi-m or character of the phenomena of matter, and the order of its development. The cause is material, that is, inherent in what we call substance. We know no more ; nor can we know more. All that we can know is the fonn of the con- ditions, and the form of the effects — the laws. More we neither know nor can know. It is the real and fundamental law and conditions of the fact that we want to know : and this we may know. Electricity, light, heat, are not fluids, but forms of action, — the same as common motion or force. By friction, new chemical powers are given to the ho- moeopathic medicines. Squeeze a pear, and it becomes sweet. By friction, light, heat, electricity, or magnetism, is evolved. And what are the instinct of animals and the mind of man but a result of chemical action or material process ? What is mind but an evolved condition or form of the powers of nature, like light, heat, magnetism ? — a form of the phenomena of the fundamental power which is acting throughout nature, and may, perhaps, be said to constitute nature. Mind, that is, thought, and sen- sation, which we term mind, pass away like light, and influence things without. Mind is but a transient condition : and memory but acquired forms. Light evolves thought; and thought again evolves light. 258 man's nature and development. Mind evolves motion in tlie limbs; and motion again evolves thought. Mind acts on the body as light and heat act on the material from which they are evolved^ (a lamp or candle^ for instance,) and help the evolution of fresh heat and light. Disturb the chemical action of the body through the stomach or lungs, or by electricity, and j^ou disturb or paralyse the mind's action ; or the disturbed mental action will derange the action of the body. In the one case, you may have idiocy or insanity ; in the other, a liver complaint. When I say the mind is a function of brain, I mean no more than when I say that the briUiant electric light I see under water is a result or pro- perty of certain materials under particular conditions. The light and the mind are equally phenomena, and the cause or nature of both is equally obscure : and both are phenomena evolved or existing during the consumption or change going on in matter. But light, magnetism, mind, &c., though evolved by the action of matter, are conveyed by solid bodies, and through space, to other bodies at a distance. Thoughts pass from one brain, and become con- sciousness in another brain. This we call sympathy of minds, or thought-reading. Now .the question occurs, what is the medium through or by which power of any form is conveyed from one body to another. We say, that electricity is conveyed by a wire, and sound by the air : but these are very shallow notions. We have yet to learn whether there be a universal medium, or different media interfused for CENTRAL LAW AND PERYASKE UNITY. 259 eacli distinct character of power, or cardinal motion : and if these phenomena of light, electricity, mind, &c., are actions from solid matter to this medium, or if there be a spirit contained and close about all bodies ; and particularly from animals, and man^s brain, and the action first taking place in this ; or if all effects are from an agitation, as it were, of the universal medium or media pervading all things, and all space; — if bodies, animate or inanimate, have a particular evolved or eliminated spirit con- dition, which is acted upon by the body on one side, and by impressions through the universal medium condition on the other. •^ But body does not act directly on body, we know^ because bodies do not touch : and, therefore, it is clear, that whatever the spiritual condition or con- ditions be, all actions are by and through such spirit conditions. Therefore, in fact, solid body does not act on body in any case, nor spirit on body : but spirit acts on or in spirit, and through spirit. Perhaps, in the end, it may be seen that some of those that are called INIaterialists are the most spiritual in their notions ; and those that pride themselves on their spiritualism, are, in reality, the Materialists }) who talk of gross materialism, and, at the same time, evoke their God material, as he sits on his throne ; who talk disparagingly of human affections, and human wisdom, and poor human nature, and, at the same time, fashion their God in their own likeness. They scoff at those who may be too spiritual to bend to their idolatry, or yield to 260 MAN^S NATURE AND DEA^LOPMENT. the ruinous influence of custom and formalism. To see how men are dead while they yet live, and how they are wise in their own conceit, and pure in their own wisdom, — is it not enough to make one mourn, and almost despair of progress ? and of that . . . . " Philosophy which is Not harsh and crahbed as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute " ? And thousands have despaired, and been content to listen to the sweet strains of an indolent philosophy, because they have overlooked causes, or mistaken the plan of Natm-e, and the universal application of inductive science. I wish that I could give you a satisfactoiy reply to your questions respecting the nature of Light. I believe that the different theories of undulations and vibrations, and darting corpuscules, &c., must all dissolve away before the simple facts of the case; just as ghosts and demons, and spiritual influences, and retributive judgments, &c., vanish before the light which we now bring upon mental science. It seems certain that two things cannot occupy the same space at the same time, unless we suppose with Kant, that Space is a mere fiction. It seems, also, that two similar actions or conditions, — two similar diseases, for instance, cannot exist in action in the same body at the same time, and that we must have different organs for the different mental powers, and LIGHT. 261 for conveying sensation and motion ; and, indeed^ for each distinct function of our nature. The in- tellect is working in one part^ and the affections in another ; the consciousness and will in a third ; benevolence in a fourth ; and so on ; while a train of impressions to the brain cannot run along the same rail which is^ at the same time_, conveying a baggage-train of muscular force outwards from the brain. These seem to be recognised facts ; and yet^ with regard to impressions from object to object in those influences which have been called " immaterial vir- tues/^ we come to a fact which seems to be wholly at variance with the rule. For instance, I hold up a pin's point ; and the influence from this point fills the whole space of the room, bearing upon every point of matter on the objects and walls around which face it ; — and beyond this : — but so much is palpable. Yet, at the same time, and in the same space, and in direct lines, come impressions from all this surface around to the pin point. And if the pin point was multiplied by millions, and the surface around extended, every point of the space would contain a direct impression from every point of sur- face. In fact, the whole surface and the whole space would contain impressions from every point, and each point the impression of the whole : and these impressions (for the most part, at least) have to pass in opposite directions in the same lines in space. And this would be the case, not only in 262 man's nature and development. regard to light, but to heat, sound, magnetism, and evei-y shade of colour : indeed, of all the characters of all the influences present, — to say nothing of the secondary or diffused effects. To every point that the sun shines upon comes a direct ray or line of impression from every point of the surface of the sun which is presented towards us. How" impressions coming in direct lines from point to point widen as the space extends is another difficulty, which I do not think has yet been solved. All seem to consider it necessary that there should be an ether, or medium of some sort, pervading space, and communicating impressions from body to body : and certainly a material medium between bodies does seem essential, unless you assume imma- teriality. But not matter and nothing are terms for the same nonentity. When we are in want of a something, we cannot fall back upon nothing. Can we for a moment suppose, for instance, light to be an action without body moving through empty space ? No, we require a substance to convey a motion or energy from one body to another. But what kind of substance can this ether be ? for, if the particles touch, it would seem it must be a solid : and if they do not touch, what conveys the action from particle to particle ? or, are there no particles ? is there no embodiment at all ? Thus we shall have to come to the fact, humbling to some, that that which is beyond the senses is beyond the understanding. — Ask the wisest man " what is LIGHT. 263 mind V^ or " instinct V or *^ tlie principle of the form of tilings V '' What is light ? What is matter ? "V^Tiat is power, or space,, or time V And he will teU you that his wisdom in this is the wisdom of Socrates, in perceiving that he knows nothing. Or he will reply that mind is mind, light is light, time is time, &c. : that knowledge consists in the percep- tion of things as they are to us, and in recognising the relations of things in the order of nature : and that all inquiries as to what things really are, are fruit- less. The higher laws, those more fundamental, universal, and operative, will be discovered only by acute inductive reasoning upon accumulated expe- rience of the obscurer workings of Nature. No one can grasp the infinite, — in space, in time, or in cau- sation. — Of the fundamental principle of things we know nothing. We are just like one startled from sleep in the midst of the night, glancing round by the light of a taper : — the beginning and the end, the past and the future, are all wonder and dark- ness :^or can we know any thing of the subtle actions of Nature beyond what our senses give us, of which our reason is able to judge as by a second sight. Many, upon such considerations, have left experience altogether, and i*ushed into icetaphysics and scepticism, or think themselves wdser and more secure under some religious faith : because men wull not be content to rest on w^hat they know, and what it is possible for them to know : but they will follow after any phantom that is presented to them, and 264 MAN^S NATUEE AND DEVELOPMENT. leave Nature, which will disclose to them far more wonderful things than they can imagine^ I think that much confusion is caused by endea- vouring to understand remote things by those that are near, — the cause by the result, — the imponder- able by the ponderable, &c. : that which is insen- sible by that which is sensible ; the whole by a part ; the universal by a particular mode or form; the future by the present, &c, ; instead of observing the order of things, and judging accordingly. That which is too subtle for the sense must be judged of by the circumstances, or by experiment. How could we infer the laws of the atmosphere or the winds from a heap of pebble-stones ; or the laws of fluids from a rock of granite ? How absurd then to liken the action of a supposed subtle ether, of inconceivable nature and rarity, to waves and vibrations ! — No waves or vibrations can explain the actions which result in mind ; nor the action which is the cause of vibrations and waves ; nor the infinite action going on in the universal medium. — We must begin our inquiries afresh : free from all scientific or theolo- gical hypotheses whatever, or be sure that our hypo- thesis does not wai'p the judgment on the facts as we find theui. "ili^onsidering the question of media, and how that which we require to be in closer contact, if not absolute union, can be imperceptible to our senses, we may note that gold is more porous than less dense substances ; that ice contains less matter in the same LIGHT. 265 bulk tlian cold water : — musk seems to fill the space around continuously without losing weight : and the smallest portion of colouring matter will perv^ade a whole butt of water. Considering these instances^ we shall not be oppressed by notions of infinite division^ and the existence of subtle media : or that each distinct action, or cardinal motion, may have a distinct medium to itself, that there may be as many media as there are characters of action, each per- vading each, and all existing together in a way too subtle for our sense and understanding. We must acknowledge that the nature of such media, and their action, are wholly incomprehensible. We might sup- pose particles mo\dng, as in a row of billiard-balls, — as when you strike the ball at one end, and the furthest one flies ofi*, the intermediate balls remain- ing unmoved : or we may imagine elasticity, as in a fluid confined in a vessel, when a pressui^e on any part is communicated viith equal force through the whole mass. But these observations only approach the subject, and leave us still ^^-ith the puzzle of a thousand influences, crossing from all directions, ex- isting in the same point at the same time, and passing in opposite directions without interfering ; with the puzzle, again, of a body capable of re flexion and refraction, passing clear through ciystal without apparent diminution; as electricity passes through a we a thousand miles long or thick. Common air seems a veiy subtle and incomprehen- sible form of substance ; but it is blocks of granite N 266 man's nature and development. compared to the subtlety of this medium, which seems to be a totally distinct_, but unknown, condition of matter. This medium, too, must be requisite even to convey action through air. You see how little I can reply to your question, except by raising difficulties, and showing our igno- rance : but, happily, the strangeness or the difficulty of one matter often throws light upon another. The principle of a whole being influenced or leavened by each part, and each part by the whole, will aid us in the explanation of matters otherwise incomprehen- sible : such as that a portion of the seed of a plant or animal under appropriate circumstances is deve- loped into a similar plant or animal; and, where individual peculiarities are repeated, the peculiarity often continuing in a latent form, to be reproduced only in a third or fourth generation. — Eor the spon- taneous generation of the higher animals and plants, the fitting conditions do not seem now to exist on this globe. — Again, the fact that the various influ- ences or appearances of a landscape, or of an object, become evolved in the mind at once, in the form of an individual or general idea, comes under the same class : and again, that somnambules should read the whole influence from a person, and even his entire history, from a touch, or from a bit of hair, or even from such an object as a piece of leather touched by the person ; or from the influence hanging about another individual, who has been in company with, or otherwise influenced by, the person in question. — LIGHT. 267 Here we find the principle of memory, and how it is that in such cases as that of the Swiss historian Zschokke* the histoiy of a stranger is brought under review, just as if the memoiy of one person was transferred to another. — Here again we recognize a basis for palmistiy and future-seeing; — facts, of course, like all other facts, — medicine, for instance, — affording wide opportunity for imposition, assumption, and folly. — How marvellous is the influence of a homoeopathic infinitesimal substance as an infection through the whole nenous system ! and how complete is the in- fluence of the system on the new matter which we take in to compensate for waste ! How marvellous that the habits and memories which age effects are continually transferred to fresh matter ! Men marvel at the contagious, subduing, infusing, or leavening power of mesmerism ; as if we were not continually emitting the force and condition of ourselves! The very throwing of a stone is the transmitting the power from the arm to the stone, for the hand does not absolutely touch the stone. All your thoughts and your whole condition, and those of thousands of others, may be lying latent in my constitution at this moment, if I had ability to recognize them, as the contagion of disease is earned about by one person, without his being conscious of it, and com- municated to another, whom it destroys. And how wondi'ous those storms of ^^tal force, or other (so to term it) electric condition, which produce cholera, scarlet fever, or the potato disease ! And what are * Appendix A. n2 268 man's nature and development. these diseases ? "V\Tience come they, and what are their laws ? And why does not the influence afi*ect all equally ? And why is one particular species of plant or animal carried off" at one time, and other species at another? Those who will not believe unless they have reason, and who object to mes- merism because it does not influence all equally, let them answer this. Men^s minds are so beset with ^^ gross materialism/' with their concrete and mecha- nical notions, that they shrink from the obscure, imponderable agents, and the study of vital action, and the real powers of Nature, as if it were ^^the night side of Nature,'' and the sphere of ghosts. Nor will they stoop to consider the kind of evidence required, and the method adapted to a new inquiry. Matteucci, Reichenbach, and others, are now doing for us some good work in the right direction. — Reichenbach's experiments are most usefully made, and most important ; but I do not agree with our friend Professor Gregory in supposing that they give any explanation of mesmeric action, beyond what the facts of mesmerism had shown before. We were familiar with the fact that sensitive patients could see flames and other light, and feel influence from people, and magnets, crystals, and other materials, not appreciable by the ordinary sense powers, be- fore these German experiments. We knew that their influence did not exhibit the form of magnetism or electricity. Do not suppose that I am under- valuing the beautiful and varied experiments of Reichenbach. — Possibly objections may be raised in LIGHT. 269 regard to some of the effects, on account of a mes- meric influence or contagion imparted to the objects used, or of an influence on the mind of the patient. I do not say it is so : but it seems to be likely. The value of such experiments will be greatly enhanced by a full recognition of such objections. The great point is, as Reichenbach strenuously insists, to have the experiments repeated under various circumstances, and by individuals of different temperaments. — I am sony that Reichenbach has not appreciated the facts of Phrenology. It is to be remarked that rays of light, emanating from one and the same source, but with a different length of path, destroy each other, — produce dark- ness. Light has the character of being diffused; and yet it passes in straight lines. How it is that we perceive the luminous object in the direction that light comes to the eye, even when bent, as in re- flexion ; and at the distance the light has travelled that we see an object in the place in which it is, is not understood ; and whether we see into space when there is no object before us, — whether we do really see into space when looking at the sky, for instance, any more than we do when we seem to see into dark- aess on closing our eyes, is to me a question. Sound is heard as in the place from which it comes ; and, as happens with light, it indicates direction, as well as distance. Vfhj does it not sound all along the passage from the object to the brain ? The con- dition of action in the object must be different from the influence sent forth ; and it evolves in the spirit 270 man's nature and development. of the brain an action we term sound, wliicli cor- responds to the original action in the sounding body, somewhat in the same way as when a sounding body influences another body, with a corresponding action or sound. In the same way, light seems to put in action the light-condition of other bodies, and enables us to see them, as we hear the responding sounding body. Touch, pain in the muscular sense, &c., convey a knowledge of locality and space also. Sound influences the air and solid bodies ; but it seems to me most absurd to suppose that sound is caused by the motion of air. It is no more so than electricity passing through a wire is caused by the moving wire, though air, as a solid body, may be as essential to the conveyance of sound, as the wire to the conveyance of the electricity. 'When a gun goes off, I feel no motion of air against my face ; and yet the mere sound has broken the window, and caused the frame-work to rattle. Is it not by the subtle spii'it pervading all bodies and space that all power and action occur ? — sound, electricity, heat, light, mind, &c. Is it not all the energy of nature acting by this spirit ? Bacon thought that the spirit evolved from the body is the body of the mind ; that, as the body is to this spirit, so is this spirit to mind. Newton could not get on without supposing an universal interstellar medium. Our senses do not perceive it ; but the facts require it, and reason infers it. The brain does not think; nor does the bell ring ; but the spirit does all. The ball does not move ; but is moved by the energy let loose LIGHT. 271 by the decomposing of the gunpowder. Such being the case,, you will understand that the sense of sound would be a true impression and correspondence wdth the action of the body, or spirit-condition of the body without. That the mind sometimes hears sourds from an internal activity or stimulus, only shows a capacity to be impressed in a certain way, as it has been acted upon before. The impression of hearing corresponds with the action or condition heard. Seeing precisely corresponds ^nth what w^e see. It is as the seal to the impression. As sounds correspond with colours, so much more does the subjective correspond with the objective. The chair is one thing, and what I see as the chair is another, no doubt : but the proportions and relations in the object and the subject are the same : — as much so, and infinitely more so, than the likeness we take by the sun resembles the object. Seeing is an inter- action of the subtle conditions of nature, an exact corresponding of the object and the subject. Electro- magnetism, acting on the direction of the polarized ray of light, produces modifications like chemical mixtures. By scratching the surface of a piece of metal, so as to have a given number of lines in a given space, we can cause the same substance to appear of any colour we please. Heat will produce all the colours from the same substance. Colour therefore seems only to represent a particular con- dition or texture. Light and sound, out of the sense, of course are 272 man's nature and development. but forces^ or motions : and the whole universe is^ in reaUty, absolute darkness and solemn universal silence. The subjective corresponds with what light indicates, rather than with light, which is but a medium or form of communication. If I am lold that I have no right to infer the objective from the subjective, I reply, ^' Very well : then, you who otject must believe only in your own mind, and that only in the impression that is then passing.^' Idealism forces itself to this position, where I am content to leave it, to meditate how the thought that is past may be a delusion of the present, and how the future may not come. The important thing for us is to ascertain relations and laws ; not what things are, or how mind differs from matter. We must con- sider things as we find them. Light, sound, colour, taste, smell, touch, indicate condition : and those conditions, differences or relations indicated are true. This is what we call knowledge ; and it is equally important and efficient, whatever may be our opinions in regard to the subject and the object. There is an electric character in Light ; and in- fluences are constantly existing from all bodies irre- spective of the light condition; or the sense to receive a certain amount of force we term ordinary light or seeing. As all influences are but different conditions of the same, and may evolve each, it is no wonder that an electric condition may evolve the mental condition of sight, and produce seeing in the dark. By considering what I have said before in LIGHT. 273 connection with this, clairvoyance does not seem qnite so unintelligible, to the extent that ordinaiy sight is intelligible. ^Moser's experiment of the influence of objects on metal plates in the dark is very instructive. However, I must not venture on the subject of the different characters of Light. The subject is too wide : but, in reply to your question, I may say here that the effect of the electric light being different from common light is shown by a wheel revolving with celerity sufficient to render its spokes invisible. When illuminated by a flash of lightning, it is seen for an instant w4th all its spokes distinct, as if it were in a state of absolute repose. Your not seeing the comet and the sea is a very interesting fact. I have experienced the same inability on some occasions myself, when the mind seemed to lose its power and concentration, somewhat in the way that it loses a word and cannot recal it. I remember a lady whose mind is not very collected under excitements, at Ascot Races, looking anxiously to see the Emperor of Russia driven past. He drove past, a few yards from us. We had a capital sight of him ; but this lady saw nothing. She might as well have been at home. If emotions so blind the sense, how much more do they obscure the understanding ! When any interest or prejudice is stronger than the love of truth, truth will suffer. The blindness, both as regards the sense and the mind, often arises from our looking for something different from the fact. And again, we often invest an object with a form it has not, or N 5 274 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. evidence with conclusions foregone. How careful we should be to keep the mind steady and clear ! You wish to know how our consciousness of con- tinned Identity is to be accounted for, whilst our whole frame (and every organ of the brain among the rest) is incessantly undergoing waste and renewal, ^e sense of ^Jdjeatity seems to follaiuas^a conse- quence from -the sense of Personality or Individuality. -It is a fact of the j\Iemory_, presenting similitude, or sameness of impression. Memory is a recurrence of impressions. Habit is a form of memory. Fits are a form of habit, and often have relation to time. To identify myself as an Englishman is a habit of thought. In certain states of the nerves a man may know or believe as a fact that which he no longer has a sense of, or can identify in feeling. The I which represents the individualism seems to arise from a faculty whose organ is situated near to the Con- scious sense and the Will, and close beneath Self- esteem and Firmness. " I think ; therefore I am,^^ is a conclusion from the Conscious sense and the sense of Personality. The organ of Personality is a central organ. And its function a collective sense like the perceptive indi\d duality. Love is this sense of being and personality blending with another exist- ence ; two in one. In cases of doubt or divided consciousness, this sense of identity loses its single form, and is usually accompanied by the loss of memory, — the memory of one of the lives or states. Mesmerised persons often speak of themselves as of SENSE OF IDENTITY. 275 another indmdual, and regard, again, this intuitive character as another person, and speak of it as '' the voice/^ &c., telling them so and so. In some cases, the patient may be thrown into several conditions ; and in each assume a new and separate identity. As there are different states of magnetism and of light, and as chemical affinity may become electricity, and electricity magnetism, so these brain states, or, as it were, spheres of action, have their changes, each state having an individuality, like a separate existence. It would be difficult to identify one^s self in another bodily form, as in a new mental form, even with the help of Memory. I can hardly identify myself with my condition of childhood; nor in a calm mo- ment feel myself to be the same as when under the influence of any passion. It is the same power which, in one state, is love or hate ; in another, obstinacy ; in another, generosity, or the sense of colour, &c. I think we shall, in time, trace forms of mind, cor- responding with those of light and sound, and material forms, &c. Cosmical inquiries must lead to this, and exhibit the true cardinal fonns of nature, with general and fundamental laws, on which the whole depends. We must examine Nature as a whole, if we would discover the fundamental prin- ciples of Nature, and comprehend the analogical bearings of the whole, and why apparently remote things resemble each other. Then, indeed, shall we find that knowledge is power, and poetry, and de- light ; and be elevated into the noble position of manhood, passing out of all conventionalities into 276 man's nature and development. the solemn and glorious path of intelligence and pure reason. The intuitive faculty will then become as an instrument of light to the understanding. You have heard of this new calculating man. I wonder what those who find it hard to admit any power beyond ordinary sense im23ressions and rea- son, make of such undeniable facts as these. I think I have explained before_, that the renewal of the matter of the brain is a gradual process, and that the new material takes the character of that to which it joins company ; — in the same manner in the brain, of course, as in the liver or the lungs. If I can influence another person to think as I think, or to imagine himself a candle, or a wild beast, or to acquire my condition of memory, it is easy to understand that new particles become immediately leavened by the old, and that no change would be perceptible. The new material would evolve wisdom or imbecility, or disease or age, as the case may be. Each organ seems to evolve or induce that spirit-condition which is the basis of its particular faculty : and thus, faculties blend as colours blend, and change with the conditions ; or as sounds blend in a general harmony. Each sense faculty is adapted to receive the peculiar influence or impression to which it relates : but the instrumentality or inter- vention of the external sense does not seem always requisite. The internal faculties appear to be loosened from the sense, and to receive impressions direct from without; to be open to conditions to which the senses were not fitted. It does not seem to be any strain upon reason to suppose this. Few GHOST SEEING. 277 can give an account of the process by whicli they come at many of their conclusions ; any more than the calculating boy Bidder could of the process by which he ari'ived at his conclusions. Clairvoyance or prophecy is no greater step from our ordinaiy condition than seeing would be to a blind person^ who would say^ ^' I could only take up Nature bit by bit before, and put these bits together, and then forai but a very imperfect conception : but now I recognise all at once ; the distant, as well as that which is near." You set free the inner faculties, and open '^the eye of the mind" to the outward in- fluences of the grosser sense ; and knowledge flows in unobstructed. You are as one who was blind, but can now see. The new sense and the old are equally intelligible, and both inexplicable. You cannot ex- plain a process where there is none. The imperfect sense, the blind have a process to explain : but in clear-seeing there is no process but the fact. I must now reply to your inquiries relating to dying persons. Your question about the influence of dying per- sons on those at a distance opens the whole subject of mesmeric action, and the influence of body over body, of the mind on body, and of the body on mind ; of the nature of sleep, somnambulism, trance, and clairvoyance. — I must confine myself to a few obser- vations. The influence is usually received by those who have in some way been brought into relation or 278 man's nature and development. rapport witli tlie dying person : and the influence is generally received during sleep^ when the internal senses are freed from the ordinary senses^ and quali- fied to receive direct influences from without. Any change occurring in the condition of those with whom they were held more immediately in relation^ (^^lag- netic relation I will call it^) would be felt^ and awake attention, just as any change upon our ordinary senses, either when awake or sleeping, arouses atten- tion, — such as a candle going out when one is asleep, or a strange noise occurring, or a familiar one ceasing. Again, a person dying is often more or less falling into the trance condition — the bodily condition weakening ; and the senses either become more acute, or the spirit-condition of the brain has a freer com- munication, or inter-relation with the universal me- dium vdthout the dying person. Thinking of the indi\ddual impressed may be sometimes a condition of the effect j but this is far from being an universal cause. Persons are held in relation, as it were, by threads, the slightest alteration or loosening of which arrests attention and gives the impression. A som- nambule or mesmerized person has much more in- fluence in mesmerizing than a person in the normal state ; and many a dying person partakes of this con- dition. I have known a d\dng child mesmerize a strong man by a few waves of the hand, the man having previously resisted the influence of powerful mesmerism. Any change in the nervous condition affects others. I have told you how distinctly I felt k UNREVEALED HUMAN RELATIONS. 279 the commencement of tlie mesmeric condition in my patient^ as of a slight electric shock ; and I have been sensible of each change during the sleep^ and of the flowing away of disease. When diseases are dying out they influence others. It is even so with a com- mon cold^ which passes away to another. And so, likewise, the state of the dying person influences : — flies ofi", as it w^ere ; disturbs or influences the universal medium, and thus reaches those in whom there was rapport, if they be in a fit condition to receive. Generally, the time most fitted to receive impres- sions of this nature is in a second sleep. Some per- sons die in an insensible heavy sleep. I should not think that such a death would be felt like those in which a more trance-like state occurs, or where there is a blazing up and going out at once. In such a case as this last I have no doubt that a sensitive per- son would see light emitted. Experiments might be made with the sensitive upon dying animals. A trance or fainting fit sometimes impresses persons at a distance in the same way as a death, and it is be- lieved that death has occurred. The presentiment of death is the intuitive faculty influenced by the changing condition, and by the intuitive condition, perhaps, of the dying person. The intuitive sense seems to act often unconsciously : but the same state may become consciousness to another. The foreseeing events, or prophecy, seems to be the least comprehensible form of these singu- larly interesting phenomena. To estimate properly the efi'ects of persons dying, 280 man's nature and development. we require more correct data as to time and circum- stance ; and it is difficult to attain this. But of the existence of the fact I have e\idence in the form of many good instances; and so have you: and most persons have some case of the kind to relate. When the dying person appears to another in a form, such as of a black cat, or a shadow, or as a person, it is merely an induced condition, or subjective embodi- ment of an impression made. How any one can conclude otherwise seems marvellous. When a man is dead, he is dead — as a magnet is dead when the magnetic force is removed. A diamond is dead when it becomes charcoal. A certain constrained force, so to speak, is released, and this it is which influences. In every change force is released, and a disturbance caused. We have yet to learn the relations we bear to each other : how we may influence each other by our good or ill condition. We have yet to learn that we may not do as we will with our own ; for our own is othei's\ The knowledge which mesmerism gives of the influence of body on body,* and consequently of mind on mind, will bring about a morality we have not 3^et dreamed of. And who shall disguise his nature and his acts when we cannot be sure at any moment that we are free from the clairvoyant eye of some one who is observing our actions and most secret thoughts, and our whole character and history may be read off at any moment ! Few have the faintest idea of the influence these great truths will have upon * Appendix AA. UNREVEALED HUMAN RELATIONS. 281 the morals of men^ and upon our notions generally. Yes, there are indeed '^ more tiniths in heaven and earth than are^^ told ^^of injour philosophy/^ Men may smile no doubt. But so they did at the railway and the electric telegraph, and gas-lights, and phrenology, and the cumulation of the blood ; and at the news that there were men standing with their feet towards ours ; that the stars are worlds ; that the earth moves round the sun. Men have smiled, and ridiculed, and blasphemed against every truth as it has been revealed. When will the world learn wisdom by the past, and hope for the future, and be ashamed and humble when it wants knowledge ? Only, I think, when the philosophy of Man and Mind, raised from its true basis of material fact, is developed, and ad- mitted as a Science by the world. That men cannot imagine beyond their knowledge, is clear from every new truth being at first considered impossible and unnatural. Of one thing I am sure, — that we are as yet but on the very threshold of knowledge, and that our social condition is depravity through and through, and from end to end. But the true philosopher will be all patience for the present, and confidence for the future, and never in haste to form institutions in ad- vance of knowledge and the condition of society. 282 MAN^S NATURE AND DEVELOPMENT. XXIII. H. M. TO H. G. A. I do not like to say anything after your last letter. I do not like to toucli it, or the state of mind it pro- duces in me. Yet it is right to tell you that it does so work upon any one mind as it does upon mine. — AVhat an emancipation it is, — to have escaped from the little enclosure of dogma, and to stand, — far in- deed from being wise, — but free to learn ! How I wonder at myself now for having held (and very con- fidently held forth upon it, I am ashamed to say) that at all events it was safe to believe dogma : that for instance, whether there was a future state or not, it was safe and comfortable to believe it : — that if, even, there was no God, serving as a model to ^lan, — the original of the image, — it was safe and tran- quillizing to take for granted that there was. The enormity of this mistake was not fully apparenttome till last year, when a young man destined for the church, but not satisfied about aU its doctrines, and in a state of fluctuation about his duty altogether, laid down as the one certain thing in his own and every other case, that at all events it was safe to take for granted what the Church prescribed. The very first step he took from this position was to conclude that his diffi- culties about a leading doctrine arose from personal sinfulness, and must be resolutely put down. I POSITION AND PRIVILEGE OP TRUTH-SEEKERS. 283 found then how clear and strong had become my vision and grasp of the truth that the holding of error is an incapacitating condition : — an evil infi- nitely worse than the merely being occupied with what is untrue, — bad as that is. I saw clearly how enervating and depraving is the practice of harbour- ing, through timidity or indolence, what is suspected to be untrue. The mere exclusion of the truth, by presence of the eiTor, is a prodigious e^il : but far greater is the misfortune of the deterioration of all the powers, — from the lowest faculties of perception up to the highest of conscientiousness, reverence and benevolence, — which ensues upon all tampering with our own best nature. — And what a feeling it is, — that which grows up and pervades us when we have fairly returned to our obedience to Nature ! What a healthful glow animates the faculties ! what a serenity settles down upon the temper ! One seems to have even a new set of nerves, when one has planted one^s foot on the broad common of Nature, and clear daylight and bracing breezes are about one, and there are no more pit-falls and rolling vapours, — no more raptures and agonies of selfish hope and fear, — but sober certainty of reliance on the immu- tability of Nature's laws ; and the lofty liberty that is found in obedience to them. — We are still, and our kind must long continue to be, injured in power and in peace by the operation of past ignorance, which has mournfully impaired the conditions of human life ; but the emancipation which may be obtained, is abeady precious beyond all estimate. Ignorant as 284 MAN^S NATURE AND DE\T:L0PMENT. we yet are, — hardly able yet (even the wisest of men) to snatch a glimpse of the workings of Nature, or to form a conception of the existence of Law, — obvious as it is that our condition is merely that of infant- waking upon the world of existence, the privilege of freedom, as far as we are able to go, is quite inesti- mable : — perhaps indeed as great as it can ever be. It is hard to conceive that it can do more for indivi- duals at any time than animate their intellects, reno- vate their consciences, elevate and refine their moral conceptions and conduct, and lift them out of the condition of passionate children into one of serene maturity of faculty, though not of knowledge. I thank you for the indications you give in this last letter of yours of the immediate nature and im- measurable extent of our ignorance. What a field it opens ! what a prospect of ever-growing enjoyment to succeeding generations, in the development of the universe under their contemplation ! ^If we, — you with your habit of study, and I with my growing con- ception of what study is, — are daily sensible of the enjoyment of that " perpetual spring of fresh ideas " which ]\Irs. Barbauld so well holds out, what must be thej)rivilege of_ future— gener ations who sh alLat the same time be more naturally free tolearn, and find themselves in a bright noon-day re^ion' ^and s easonToT Tiiquiiy !^It is truly cheering to think of. If we feel a contentment in our own lot which must be sound because it is derived from no special ad- ministration of our afi'airs, but from the impartial and necessary operations of Nature, we cannot but feel. POSITION AND PRIVILEGE OF TRUTH-SEEKERS. 285 for the same reasons^ a new exhilaration on account of the unborn multitudes who will^ ages hence^ enter upon existence on better terms than those on which we hold it, — contented as we are with our share of the good and the evil of human life. — It is a pleasant thing to have a daily purpose of raising and disci- plining ourselves for no end of selfish purchase or ransom, but from the instinctive tendency to mental and moral health. It is a pleasant thing to be free from all arbitrary restraint in ministering to the good — great or small, — of any who are about us. But what a thing it is to have, over and above all this, the conception of a future time, when all discipline will consist in a sweet and joyful surrender to Nature, and all the forces of the universe will combine to lift Man above his sorrows, to expand his old faculties, and elicit new, and to endow him at once with all the good obtained by former generations, together with newaccessions far beyond the compassof our thought ! — Nothing short of this seems to be the prospect of our race : and does it not shed back a light to our very feet, — not only on high occasions of intercourse or meditation, but every day ? 286 man's nature and development. XXIV. H. G. A. TO H. M. It seems to me there are three principal funda- mental forms of the moral life ; namely — active hu- manity, industry in acquiring knowledge^ and ho- nesty in imparting what we know. — It is one of the highest duties of Man to learn to know himself; and, secondly, to allow himself to be known — but the contending and false systems of the world are a great hindi*ance to simplicity of character and moral growth. — The mathematician, the linguist, the geo- logistj the chemist^ may be very wise in those mat- ters which they have studied, but very bad moralists, and wholly incompetent to govern and educate men. The power to govern is in the knowledge of the nature of the thing governed. The mathematician may be a very bad reasoner on physiological matters, and the linguist no wiser for the ability to utter the same idea in several languages. If you would regu- late your clock, you apply to the clockmaker ; if you would regulate a steam-engine, you apply to the engineer : if you would cure a disease, you send for the physician : but^f you would develope Man's natm-e, and learn how to regulate his conduct, both as an individual and as a member of society, would you send to Cambridge for a mathematician, or to Oxford for a linguist, or apply to the clockmaker or the village doctor ? — ^' Man knows no more than he I POSITION AND PEIVILEGE 01 TRUTH-SPEAKERS. 287 has observed \'^ .^but^ wliose profe ssi on is it to ^observe the laws of Man^s nature and development ? Phy- sicians follow sj^stemSj take up their subject only in part ; and to this day are disputing about the most ordinaiy diseases^ and the right method of cure ; both as regards the physical conditions and the required phenomena. The homoeopathic law — that " like cures like" — is doubtless a great truth, but certainly not the only principle of cure — nor of uni- versal application. It is painful to see how every fresh application of a principle is twisted into a sys- tem — becomes a dogma, and hangs like a log about men^s heels. Physicians, again^ remain ignorant of the most important facts in physiology, not clearly recognizing the principle that every part of a subject must be studied by itself, — and also in relation to the whole, and the whole again in relation to a class of truths, and to universal nature. The body cannot be understood when studied as a matter separate from its phenomenon jMind j nor Mind irrespective of physical conditions, causes and laws. ^ The me- taphysician again meditates upon his sensations and their sequence : and sees but in part, and veiy imper- fectly, strangely unaware of the delusions to which he is subject : but could he even perceive coiTCctly the whole phenomena of his thoughts and their order of development, it would only be like studying his bodily constitution by looking at himself in a glass : and he could tell you no more about the mind''s action,, the difference of men and the laws and causes of development, than the old woman in the village 288 man's nature and development. can tell you in regard to medicine and the true nature and cause of diseases ; and the metaphy- sician's mind is prejudiced and stuffed up by learning and abstract thought, and requires as much free air and ventilation as the old woman's cottage, and, cleared of the cobwebs, will have to commence study afresh after another method.-^ Man is the result of organization — the external circumstances acting upon this, and the force of knowledge. Plato was fully impressed with this ; and his only hope for man was in producing good organizations, which were to be trained and developed under the most favourable circumstances ; the whole to be regulated by pure morality and correct reasoning, after the inductive method. He would force the best men to govern, and would not allow the legislator to accumulate wealth or to marry : but would have his mind left as free as possible from all selfish considerations and temptations, from all influ- ences likely to damage his love of truth, his honesty, or desire for the general good. The cause of the theo- logical errors of Plato and Socrates we can now clearly understand ; and is it not the duty of every man to endeavour to know himself, and the origin of his opinions ? " Know thyself," was the wise saying of Thales. " Bear and forbear," the constant admonition of Epictetus. In the confusion of opinions which now exists, and which seems likely to increase, I see no hope but in a thorough investigation and reconsideration (so to speak) of Man^s nature, the laws of his development, and the cause and origin of POSITION AXD PRIVILEGE OE TRUTH-SPEAKERS. 289 the opinions which he holds^ and which men quarrel about^ not seeing that their opinions are involuntary, and that, consequently, it is as great folly to quarrel about our opinions, as about the shape of our different noses. But I hear, on every hand, that men want courage to speak the truth : that those who do declare their honest and full convictions often suffer in their worldly affairs, and find them- selves stigmatized by the clergy. This, I fear, is but too true ; and it exhibits the demoralizing in- fluence of articles of faith, and creeds, and dogmas ; but surely to utter the truth that is within you dispassionately, and in pure affection, and for the general good — is most worthy of a good nature ; and as natural as the desire of freedom, and the growth of beauty. To an honest mind, the courage would seem to be in the daring to secrete the truth, and to oppose the dictates of conscience, and the free action of the mind. Shall we be content to receive all the benefits of life, delighting in the free developing and beauty of nature whilst we remain ourselves under a mask, standing there a conscious criminal in the midst ? for to disguise or deny what is true is to live in a lie, brave towards right, and a coward towards men : but there are many persons, and most respectable, good, and pious persons, too, who have no faith in know- ledge ; in that faith of faiths, that rest for hope, that solace of grief ; in that which so surely contri- butes to peace and peace of mind ; to true wusdom and good works. And these persons talk of dan- 290 man's nature and development. gerous truths^ as if all the danger did not come from the side of ignorance and error ; or as if any one truth could be opposed to any other truth — or to any system or faith founded on that which is true. To appear respectable in the eyes of the worlds how many there are who attend churchy say grace^ and stickle for the sabbath ; and who^ if necessary^ w^ould change their religion ! and yet, if all would be truthful and sincere, we should be saved from much of this fearfully demoralizing hypocrisy and cant ; and there would soon be an end to persecution and the reign of terror. Men, again, desire a continuance of existence, and a renewed life : yet it is not the future they want, but a continuance of the present, for they shrink from every change, and struggle against every new truth, and with a bitterness and alarm that shows like insanity : but no wise man will desu'e that any one thing be true in preference to another ; nor that nature should stand still for his special gratification ; and when he is in error, he will be most thankful for correction, and receive the news as gladly as if he had discovered a new truth. Nor must we forget that all conditions of things and opinions are right, and the best they can be in the time in which they exist — ^ha^g their place in the plan of nature's progressive development. Again, that evil to indi\dduals is universal good, and the calamities of life the occasion for magnanimity and the highest virtues — Pain or pleasure — good or evil report, will follow as a consequence of our acts ; but must never be the reason or motive of action : POSITION AND PRIVILEGE OF TRUTH- SPEAKERS. 291 and men must be admonished that the recognition of philosophical Necessity, or the sense of universal LaWj will not^ as some suppose^ set men loose from restraint to indulge their passions and evil desires. These good people seem strangely possessed with no- tions of Man^s innate wickedness. On the other hand, it will not induce people " to lie down in a ditch and die/^ because they cannot help themselves. The reverse will be the fact : for a knowledge of the cause wdll give a reason for exertion, and a confidence they did not possess before. The knowledge of the *cause will present a means to an end, and induce the application : and those who believe in freedom, (that is, in a cause uncaused in the will, and which, after all, w^ould not be freedom,) are those who are most indolent and doubting, believing, as they do, in a kind of chance, (which is the most fatal of all fatal- isms,) though, at the same time, inconsistently enough by their prayers, teachings, and preaching, rewards and punishments, &c., acknowledging, in practice, a belief in moral results from sufficing causes. In a strange confusion of ideas, they neglect true fundamental causes, and the study of the Laws of Man^s Nature and Development, and even deny the existence of such laws. But none are to blame, though so many are in error : — in error from w ant of knowledge, and a clear untarnished mind, and a Right Method of Inquiry. o 2 APPENDIX. A.— (Page 52.) " Divination hath been anciently and fitly divided into artificial and natural : whereof artificial is, when the mind maketh a prediction by argument, concluding upon signs and tokens : natural is, when the mind hath a presentation by an internal power, without che inducement of a sign. Artificial is of two norts : either when the argument is coupled with a derivation of causes, which is rational ; or when it is only grounded upon a coincidence of the effect, which is experimental ; whereof the latter, for the most part, is superstitious ; such as were the heathen observa- tions upon the inspection of sacrifices, the flights of birds, the swarming of bees, and such as was the Chaldean astrology, and the like. For artificial divination, the several kinds thereof are distributed amongst particular knowledges. The astronomer hath his predictions, as of conjunctions, aspects, eclipses, and the like. The physician hath his pre- dictions, of death, of recovery, of the accidents and issues of diseases. The politician hath his predictions, ' urbem venalem, et cito perituram, si emptorem invenerit ! ' which stayed not long to be performed in Sylla first, and after in Csesar ; so as these predictions are now impertinent and 294 APPENDIX. to be refeiTed over. But the divination which springeth from the internal nature of the soul, is that which we now speak of; which hath been made to be of two sorts, primi- tive, and by influxion. Primitive is grounded upon the supposition, that the mind, when it is withdrawn and col- lected into itself, and not diffused into the organs of the body, hath some extent and latitude of pre-notion, which therefore appeareth most in sleep, in ecstacies, and near death, and more rarely in waking apprehensions ; and is induced and furthered by those abstinences and obser- vancies which make the mind most to consist in itself : by influxion, is grounded upon the conceit that the mind, as a mirror or glass, should take illumination from the fore- knowledge of God and spirits ; unto which the same regi- men doth likewise conduce. Tor the retiring of the mind within itself, is the state which is most susceptible of divine influxions, save that it is accompanied in this case with a fervency and elevation, which the ancients noted by fury, and not with a repose and quiet, as it is in the other." — Bacon : The Advancement of Learning. " Tf there be any force in the imagination and affections of singular persons, it is probable the force is much more in the joint imaginations and affections of multitudes : as if a victory should be won or lost in remote parts, whether is there not some sense thereof in the people whom it con- cerneth ; because of the great joy or grief that many men are possessed with at once ? Pius Quaintus at the very time when that memorable victory was won by the Christians against the Turks, at the naval battle of Lepanto, being then hearing of causes in consistory, brake oft' suddenly, and said to those about him, ' It is now more time we should give thanks to God for the great victory he hath granted us against the Turks :' it's true, that victory had APPENDIX. 295 a sympathy with his spirit : for it was merely his work to conclude that league. It may be that revelation was divine ; but what shall we say then to a number of examples amongst the Grecians and Romans ? where the people being in Theatres at plays, have had news of victories and over- throws, some few days before any messenger could come." — Bacon: Natural Hidory, \Wi Century. '' But if Plutarch, besides several examples that he pro- duces out of antiquity, tells us of his certain knowledge, that in the time of Domitian the news of the battle lost by Anthony, in Germany, w^as published at Rome many days' journey thence, and dispersed throughout the whole world the same day it was fought : and if Csesar was of opinion that it has often happened that the report has preceded the event, shall we say that, forsooth, these simple people have suffered themselves to be deceived with the vulgar, not having been so clear-sighted as we ? " — Montaigne^ ch.xxvi. " Our souls, then, having this inbred power, though weak, obscure, and hardly able to express theii' appre- hensions ; yet sometimes they spread forth and recover themselves, either in dreams or in the time of sacrifice or religious worship, when the body is well purified, and is indued with a certain temperature proper to this effort ; or when the rational or speculative part being released and freed from the solicitude after present things, joins with the irrational and imaginative part, to think of, and represent what is to come; for it is not, as Euripides saith, that he is the best prophet who guesses well ; but he is the wisest man, not whose guess succeeds well in the event, but who, whatever the event be, takes reason and probability for his guide. Now the faculty of divining, 296 APPENDIX. like blank paper, is void of any reason or determination of itself, but is susceptible of fantasies and pretensions, and without any ratiocination or discourse of reason, touches on that which is to come, when it is farthest off from the present, out of which it departs, by means of a certain disposition of body, which we call inspiration or enthu- siasm. Now the body is sometimes indued naturally with this disposition ; but most times the earth casts forth to men the sources and causes of several other powers and faculties, some of which carry men beside themselves into ecstasy and phrenzy, and produce maladies and mortali- ties ; others again are sometimes good, gentle, and profita- ble, as appears by those who have had the experience of them. But this spring, or wind, or spirit of divination, is most holy and divine, whether it be raised by itself through the air, or be compounded and mixt with a watery or liquid substance. For being infused and mixed with the body it produces an odd temperature and strange disposition in the soul, which a man cannot exactly express, though he may resemble or compare it to several things ; for by heat and dilation it openeth certain pores that make a disco- very of future things ; like wine, which causing fumes to ascend up into the head, puts the spirits into many un- usual motions, and reveals things that were laid up in secret." — '"Tis no wonder then, if the earth, sending up many exhalations, only those of this sort transport the soul with a divine fury, and give them a faculty of foretelling future things. And without doubt, what is related touching the oracle of this place, does herewith agree. For it is here that this faculty of divining first showed itself, by means of a certain shepherd, who chanced to fall down and began to utter enthusiastic speeches con- cerning future events ; of which, at first, the neighbours took no notice ; but when they saw what he foretold come APPENDIX. 297 to pass, they had him in admiration, and the most learned among the Delphians, speaking of this man, are used to call him by the name of Coretas." — " And as to the oracle of Mopsus, I can, from my own knowledge, tell you a strange story about it. The Governor of Cilicia was a man inclining to scepticism, and doubtful whether there be gods ; and had about him several Epi- cureans, who are wont to mock at the belief of such things as seem contrary to reason. He sent a freed ser- vant of his in the nature of a spy, with a letter sealed, wherein was the question he was to ask the Oracle, no- body knowing the contents thereof. This man, then, as the custom of the place is, remaining all night in the temple-porch asleep, related the next morning the dream which he had ; for he thought he saw a very handsome man stand before him, who said only this word, ' Black,' to him, and nothing else, for he vanished away immediately. This seemed to us very impertinent, though we could not tell what to make of it ; but the Governor marvelled at it, and was so nettled with it, that he had the Oracle in great veneration ever since ; for, opening the letter, he showed this question which was therein : Shall I sacrifice to thee a white bull or a black ? which dashed his Epi- cureans quite out of countenance ; and he offered the sacrifice required, and to the day of his death continued a devout admirer of Mopsus." — " But to what purpose, if it be true, that souls are naturally indued with the faculty of prediction, and that the chief cause that excites this faculty and virtue, is a certain temperature of air or wind ? and what signifies then the sacred institutions and setting apart these religious prophetesses, for the giving of answers ? And why do they return no answer at all, un- less the sacrifice tremble all over, even from the very feet, 5 298 APPENDIX. while the wine is poured ou its head ? " — Plutarch^ 07'acles. Extract from Mr. Wesley's Journal, under the head ''July, 1761." " About one, I preached at Bramley, where Jonas Eush- ford, about fourteen years old, gave me the following rela- tion: — ' About this time last j^ear I was desired by two of our neighbours, to go with them to Mr. Crowther's at Skipton, who would not speak to them, about a man that had been missing twenty weeks, but bid them bring a boy twelve or thirteen years old. When we came in he stood reading a book. He put me into a bed with a looking-glass in my hand, and covered me all over. Then he asked me, whom I had a mind to see ; and I said " My mother." I presently saw her with a lock of wool in her hand, stand- ing just in the place and the clothes she was in, as she told me afterwards. Then he bid me look again for the man that was missing, who was one of our neighbours : and I looked and saw him riding towards Idle ; but he was very drunk : and he stopped at the ale-house and drank two pints more ; and he pulled out a guinea to change. Two men stood by, a big man and a little man ; and they went on before him and got two hedge-stakes. And when he came up, on Windhill common, at the top of the hill, they pulled him off his horse and killed him and threw him into a coal- pit. And I saw it all as plainly as if I were close to them : and if I saw the men I should know them again. We went back to Bradford that night, and the next day I went with our neighbours, and shewed them the spot where he was killed, and the pit into which he was thrown. And a man went down and brought him up: and it was as I told them : his handkerchief was tied about his mouth, and fastened behind his neck.' APPENDIX. 299 " On which Mr. Wesley makes this remark : — " ' Is it improbable only, or flatly impossible, when all the circumstances are considered, that this should all be pure fiction ? They that can believe this, may believe a man's getting into a bottle.' " Another extract from Mr. Wedeys Works, vol. x. p. 163. "A little before the conclusion of the late war in Flanders, one who came from thence gave us a very strange relation. I knew not what judgment to form of this ; but waited till John Hairae should come over, of whose veracity I could no more doubt, than of his uuder,- standing. The account he gave was this : — ' Jonathan Pyrah was a member of our society, in Flanders. I knew him some years, and knew him to be a man of unblameable character. One day he was summoned to appear before the board of general officers. One of them said, " What is this which we hear of you ? We hear you are turned prophet, and that you foretell the dow^ifall of the bloody house of Boui'bon, and the haughty house of Austria. We should be glad if you were a real prophet, and if your prophecies came true. But what sign do you give to convince us you are so; aud that your predictions will come to pass?" He readily answered: — "Gentle- men, I give you a sign. To-morrow at twelve o'clock, you shall have such a storm of thunder and lightning, as you never had before since you came into Flanders. I give you a second sign : — As little as any of you expect any such thing, as little appearance of it as there is now, you shall have a general engagement with the French within three days. I give you a third sign : I shall be ordered to advance in the fii-st line. If I am a false prophet T shall be shot dead at the first discharge. But if I am a true prophet I shall only receive a musket-ball in 300 APPENDIX. the calf of my left leg." A twelve the next clay there was such thunder and lightning as they never had before in Flanders. On the thu'd day, contrary to all expectation, was the general battle of Fontenoy. He was ordei-ed to advance in the first line, and at the very first discharge he received a musket-ball in the calf of his left les.' " Swedenhorg* 8 Clairvoyance independent of Mesmerism. Kant gives a relation concerning a Madame Von Marse- ville, and continues thus : — " But the following occurrence appears to me to have the greatest weight of proof, and to set the assertion re- specting Swedenborg's extraordinary gift out of all possi- bility of doubt. In the j^ear 1759, when M. de Sweden- borg, towards the end of February, on Saturday, at 4 o'clock, p.m., arrived at Gottenburg from England, Mr. William Cost el invited him to his house, together with a party of fifteen persons. About 6 o'clock M. de Sweden- borg went out, and after a short interval returned to the company quite pale and alarmed. He said that a dan- gerous fii-e had just broken out in Stockholm, at the Suderraalm, (Gottenburg is about three hundred miles from Stockholm,) and that it was spreading very fast. He was restless and went out often : he said that the house of one of his friends, whom he named, was already in ashes, and that his own was in danger. At 8 o'clock, after he had been out again, he joyfully exclaimed, ' Thank God ! the fire is extinguished the third door from my house.' This news occasioned great commotion through the whole city, and particularly amongst the company in which he was. It was announced to the Governor the same even- ing. On the Sunday morning, Swedenborg was sent for by the Governor, who questioned him concerning the disaster. Swedenborg described the fire precisely, how it APPENDIX. 301 had begun, in wliat manner it had ceased, and how long it had continued. On the same day the news was spread through the city, and, as the Governor had thought it worthy of attention, the consternation was considerably increased ; because many were in trouble on account of their friends and property, which might have been involved in the disaster. " On the Monday evening a messenger arrived at Got- tenburg, who was despatched during the time of the fire. In the letters brought by him, the fire was described pre- cisely in the manner stated by Swedenborg. On the Tuesday morning the royal courier arrived at the Go- vernor's with the melancholy intelligence of the fire, of the loss which it had occasioned, and of the houses it had damaged and ruined, not in the least diff'ering from that which Swedenborg had given immediately after it had ceased, for the fire was extinguished at 8 o'clock. " What can be brought forward against the authenticity of this occurrence? My friend, who wrote this to me, has not only examined the circumstances of this extra- ordinary case at Stockholm, but also about two months ago, at Gottenburg, where he is acquainted with the most respectable houses, and where he could obtain the most authentic and complete information ; as the greatest part of tlie inhabitants who are still alive were witnesses to the memorable occurrence. " I am, with profound reverence, &c., "Emanuel Kant." " Koenigsburg, Aug. 10, 1768." ZSCHOKKE S DIVINATION.'*' " There was, however, no want of agreeable society in * He is well known as an author, statesman, philosopher, and reformer. 3 02 APPENDIX. my new retirement, either that of some select families and individuals in the city, or old friends and acquaint- ances of the Union, who never forgot me when they passed, or in visits from travellers allured by the love of wandering into Switzerland, or blown hither by the wind of destiny. I never failed to receive such visitors with all due honour, having learned from experience how gladly in travelling, we make use of such opportunities to till up vacant moments, in order to acquii*e information, to enrich the haiwest of remembrance. I, therefore, submitted to my fate with resignation. If this kind of virtue became burdensome at times, it was rewarded at others by making the acquaintance of remarkable persons, or by the op- portunities it yielded for the exercise of a singular kind of prophetic gift which I called my * inward sight,' but which has ever been enigmatical to me. I am almost afraid to speak of this, not because I am afraid to be thought superstitious, but that I may thereby strengthen such feelings in others. And yet it may be an addition to our stock of soul-experiences, and, therefore, I will confess ! " It is well known that the judgment we not seldom form at the first glance of persons hitherto unknown, is more correct than that which is the result of longer ac- quaintance. The first impression that through some instinct of the soul attracts or repels us with strangers, is afterwards weakened or destroyed by custom, or by dif- ferent appearances. We speak in such cases of sympa- thies or antipathies, and perceive these efi"ects frequently among children to Avhom experience in human character is wholly wanting. Others are incredulous on this point, and have recourse rather to the art of physiognomy. Now for my own case. It has happened to me, sometimes, on my first meeting APPENDIX. 303 with strangers, as I listened silently to tbeir discourse, that their former life, with many trifling circumstances therewith connected, or frequently some particular scene in that life, has passed quite involuntarily, and, as it were, dream-like, yet perfectly distinct, before me. During this time I usually feel so entii'ely absorbed in the contem- plation of the stranger life, that, at last, I no longer see clearly the face of the unknown wherein I undesignedly read, nor distinctly hear, the voices of the speakers, which before served, in some measiu'e, as a commentary to the text of their features. For a long time I held such visions as delusions of the fancy, and the more so as they showed me even the dress and motions of the actors, rooms, furniture, and other accessories. By way of jest, I once, in a family circle at Kirchberg, related the secret history of a seamstress w^ho had just left the room and the house. I had never seen her before in my life ; people were astonished and laughed, but were not to be per- suaded that I did not previously know the relations of which I spoke, for what I had uttered was the literal truth ; I, on my part, was no less astonished that my dream-pictures were confirmed by the reality. T became more attentive to the subject, and when propriety ad- mitted it, I would relate to those whose life thus passed before me, the subject of my vision, that I might thereby obtain confirmation or refutation of it. It was invariably ratified, not without consternation on their part.* I myself had less confidence than any one in this mental * " ' What demon inspires you ? Must I again believe in pos- session?' exclaimed the spirt^we/ Johann von Riga, when, in the first hour of our acquaintance, I related his past life to him, with the avowed object of learning whether or no I deceived myself. We speculated long on the enigma, but even his penetration could not solve it." 304 APPENDIX. jugglery. So, often as I revealed my visionary gifts to any new person, I regularly expected to hear the answer : * It was not so.* I felt a secret shudder when my auditors replied that it was true, or when their astonishment be- trayed my accuracy before they spoke. Instead of many, I wDl mention one example, which pre-eminently as- tounded me. One fair day, in the city of Waldshut, I entered an inn (the Vine), in company with two young student-foresters : we were tired with rambling through the woods. We supped with a numerous society at the table d'Jidte, where the guests were making very merry ■with the peculiarities and eccentricities of the Swiss, with Mesmer's magnetism, Lavater's physiognomy, &c., &c. One of my companions, whose national pride was wounded by their mockery, begged me to make some reply, particularly to a handsome young man who sat opposite us, and who had allowed himself extraordinary licence. This man's former life was at that moment presented to my mind. I turned to him and asked whether he would answer me candidly if I related to him some of the most secret passages of his life, I know- ing as little of him personally as he did of me. That would be going a little further, I thought, than Lavater did with his physiognomy. He promised, if I were correct in my information, to admit it frankly. I then related what my vision had shown me, and the whole company were made acquainted with the private history of the young merchant ; his school years, his youthful errors, and lastly, with a fault committed in reference to the strong box of his principal. I described to him the uninhabited room with whitened walls, where, to the right of the brown door, on a table, stood a black money-box, &c., &c. A dead silence prevailed during the whole narration, which I alone occasionally interrupted by inquiring whether I spoke the APPENDIX. 305 truth. The startled young man confirmed every particu- lar, and even, what I had scarcely expected, the last men- tioned. Touched by his candour, I shook hands with him over the table, and said no more. He asked my name, which I gave him, and we remained together talking till past midnight. He is probably still living ! " I can well explain to myself how a person of lively imagination may form, as in a romance, a correct picture of the actions and passions of another person, of a certain character, under certain circumstances. But whence came those trifling accessories which 7ioicise concerned me, and in relation to people for the most part indifferent to me, with whom I neither had, nor desired to have, any con- nexion ? Or, was the whole matter a constantly recurring accident ? Or, had my auditor, perhaps, W'hen I related the particulars of liis former life, very different views to give of the whole, although in his first surprise, and misled by some resemblances, he had mistaken them for the same? And yet impelled by this very doubt, I had several times given myself trouble to speak of the most insignificant things which my waking dream had revealed to me. I shall not say another word on this singular gift of vision, of which T cannot say it was ever of the sKghtest ser\dce ; it manifested itself rarely, quite independently of my will, and several times in reference to persons whom I cared little to look through. Neither am I the only person in possession of this power. On an excursion I once made with two of my sons, I met with an old Tyrolese who car- ried oranges and lemons about the country, in a house of public entertainment, in Lower Hanenstein, one of the passes of the Jura. He fixed his eyes on me for some time, then mingled in the conversation, and said that he knew me, although he knew me not, and went to relate what I had done and striven to do in former times, to the 306 APPENDIX. consternation of the country people present, and the great admiration of my children, who were diverted to find another person gifted like their father. How the old lemon merchant came by his knowledge he could explain neither to me nor to himself; he seemed, nevertheless, to value himself somewhat upon his mysterious wisdom." — Autobiography of ZscJiokke, pp. 169-172. " The path is difficult, secret, and beset with terror. The ancients called it ecstacy or absence, a getting out of their bodies to think. All religious history contains traces of the trance of saints : a beatitude, but without any sign of joy ; earnest, solitary, even sad ; ' the flight,' Plotinus calls it, ' of the alone to the alone.' Mwea-is, the closing of the eyes, whence our word mystic. The trances of Socrates, Plotinus, Porphyry, Behmen, Bunyan, Fox, Pascal, Guion, Swedenborg, will readily come to mind. But what as readily comes to mind is the accompaniment of disease." — Emerson, on Swedenborg. " I was never so willing to believe philosophy in any- thing as this : it is a pure enthusiasm wherewith sacred truth has inspired the spirit of philosophy, which makes, I confess, contrary to its own proposition, that the most calm, composed, and healthful estate of the soul that philosophy can seat it in, is not its best condition ; our waking is more a sleep than sleep itself ; our wisdom less wise than folly ; our dreams are worth more than our meditations — and the worst place we can take is in our- selves." — Montaigne. " We better ourselves by the privation of our reason and by drilling it. The two natural ways to enter into APPENDIX. 307 the cabinet of the Gods, and there to foresee the course of destiny, are Fury and Sleep." — Montaigne. B.— (Page 78.) " When we make a general assertion, unless it be a true one, the possibility of it is unconceivable; and words whereby we conceive nothing but the sound, are those we call absurd, insignijicant, and non-sense. And therefore, if a man should talk to me of a round Quadrangle or accidents of bread in cheese ; or immaterial substance ; or of a free subject ; a free will ; or any free, but free from being hindered by opposition ; I should not say he was in an error ; but that his words were without meaning ; that is to saj absurd." — Hobbes : LeviatJian. " And indeed it may almost be asserted that all intem- perance in any kind of pleasure, and all disgraceful conduct, is not properly blamed as the consequence of voluntary guilt ; for no one is voluntarily bad ; but he who is de- praved becomes so through a certain bad habit of body, and an ill-governed education." " All the vicious are vicious through two most involuntary causes, which we should always ascribe rather to the planters than the things planted, and to the trainers rather than those trained ; but still it should be our anxious endeavour as far as we can, by education, studies and learning, to fly from vice and acquire its contrary virtue." — Flato : Timcetis. "Others cut off particular provinces of nature as ex- ceptions from the plan of constant order. "VMiatever part 308 APPENDIX. is dubious or obscure, to mankind generally, or to tbem- selves in particular, there they rear the torn standard of the arbitrary system of divine rule. Human volitions form such a region to many who know not that Quetelet has reduced these to mathematical formulae ; and that one of our most popular divines has written a Bridgewater Trea- tise to show the predominance of natural law over mind, as a proof of the existence and wisdom of God." — Sequel to the Vestiges of Creation, p. 125. "Moreover, what foundation of this justice can the Gods take notice of, or reward man after his death for his good and virtuous actions, since it was themselves that put them in the way and mind to do them ? And why should they be offended at, or punish, him for wicked ones, since themselves have created in him so frail a con- dition, and when, with one glance of their will, they might prevent him from falling." — Montaigne. " Neither is it possible for any power to burst the chain of causes ; nor is nature to be overcome, except by sub- mission." — Bacon. " The necessary connexion of natural causes with their effects, is the reason for employing the former as the means for the attainment of the latter. But when the only useful change is ascribed to agents, of which the very essence is, that their agency is influenced by no laws ascer- tainable or comprehensible by Man, I am at a loss to dis- cover how we can justify, in argument, the attempt to use means, of which we begin by denying the efficacy." — Si)' J. Mackintosh. APPENDIX. 309 C— (Page 79.) " And in these four things, opinions of ghosts, igno- rance of second causes, devotion towards what men fear, and taking of things casual for prognostics, consisteth the natural seeds of religion ; which, by reason of the different fancies, judgments, and passions of several men, hath grown up into ceremonies so different, that those w^hich are used by one man, are, for the most part, ridiculous to another." — Hohbes : Leviathan.'^ *' But men foolishly think that Gods are born like as men are ; and have, too, a dress like their own, and their voice, and their figure ; but if oxen and lions had hands like our own, and fingers, then would horses like unto horses, and oxen to oxen, paint and fashion their god- forms ; and give to them bodies of like shape to their own, as they themselves, too, are fashioned." — Xenophanes. " The uneducated man regards the whole system of the world as resulting from, and depending upon, the imme- diate working and guidance of an Almighty Being, who acts, in each case, as may seem to him most meet, exactly as human creatures do." — Sequel to the Vestiges of Creation. " You are fit," (says the supreme Krishna to a sage) " to apprehend that you are not distinct from me. That which I am, thou art, and that also is the world, with its Gods, and heroes, and mankind. Men contemplate dis- * Hobbes' disbelief and ignorance of the adventitious and inner range of the mind's action, forced him into a ^arJ scepti- cism, and spoiled his usefulness. — H. G. A. 310 APPENDIX. tinctions because they are stupified witli ignorance, "- Emerson, on Plata . D.— (Page 92.) " But Deceearchus, in three books, gives us an account of the disputings of several learned men at Corinth, and introduces Pherecrates, an old man of Phthios (reported to be of the family of Deucalion), arguing that there is no such thing as the soul, but that it is merely an empty name, and that the using the words animantia^ and ani- malia, is ridiculous, inasmuch, as neither man nor beast has any soul, in Latin, anima ; and that the power by which we do and suffer is equally spread in all living crea- tures alike, and inseparable from the body, as being nothing but the body so figured as by force of nature to have life and sense." — Cicero, on Contempt of Death. " Again, let the required nature be the discursive power of the mind : the classification of human reason, and animal instinct appears to be perfectly correct, yet there are some instances in the actions of brutes, which seem to show that they too can syllogize." — Bacon : Nov. Org., Aph. 35. " Many philosophers even furnished the brutes with a soul. The pious and benevolent Bonnet promised them immortahty." — Call. " The mind of man, of the dog, and of all other ani- mind, is part of the vital actions : it is the result of the APPENDIX. 311 elaborate mecLanism perfected by nature." — Smee, on In- stinct and Reason. " It is not prudence that distinguishes men from beasts. There be beasts, that at a year old observe more, and pur- sue that which is for their good, more prudently than a child can do at ten." — Hohhes. E.— (Page 100.) " Tor although nothing exists in nature except indi- vidual bodies, exhibiting clear individual effects, according to particular laws ; yet, in each branch of learning, that very law, its investigation, discovery and development, are the foundation both of theory and practice." — Bacon : Nov. Org., ApTi. 2, Book 2nd. " I do not believe that there is now one object or event in all our experience of nature, within the bounds of the solar system, at least, which has not either been ascer- tained by direct observation to follow laws of its own, or been proved to be exactly similar to objects and events, which, in more familiar manifestations, or on a more limited scale, follow strict laws : our inability to trace the same laws on a larger scale, and in the more recondite instances, being accounted for by the number and com- plication of the modifying causes, or by their inaccessibility to observation." — MilVs System of Logic, ii. 116. "No more causes, or any other causes of natural effects, ought to be admitted but such as are both tru 312 APPENDIX. and are sufficient for explaining their appearances. "- Newton. " Every branch of human knowledge hath its proper principles, its proper foundation, and method of reason- ing : and if we endeavour to build it upon any other foundation, it will never stand firm and stable. Thus, the historian builds upon testimony, and rarely indulges conjecture. The antiquarian mixes conjecture with testi- mony ; and the former often makes the larger ingredient. The mathematician pays not the least regard either to testimony or conjecture, but deduces everything by de- monstrative reasoning, from his definitions and axioms. Indeed, whatever is built upon conjecture is improperly called science : for conjecture may beget opinion, but cannot produce knowledge. Natural philosophy must be built upon the phenomena of the material system dis- covered by observation and experiment." — Heid. " Sir Isaac Newton has the merit of giving the form of a science to this branch of (Natural) Philosophy ; and it need not appear surprising, if the philosophy of the Human Mind should be a century or two later in being brought to maturity." — Beid. F.— (Page 124.) " Having expressed my desire to j^ou, gentlemen, to avail myself of Dr. Strong's liberal oifer to try the effect of mesmerism upon the inmates of the Insane Hospital here. APPENDIX. 313 you were kind enough to sanction a monthly expenditure of 20 rupees for this purpose, which has been spent in paying ten of the guards 2 rupees a-month each to act as mesmerisers. Being familiarwith the soothingand strength- ening effects of mesmerism upon the debilitated and irri- table nervous systems of the sane, and believing that insanity, in general, originates in debility or functional derangement of the brain, I expected to find mesmerism of service in the treatment of madness, like every thing else that restores tone and regularity to the system. But functional derangement of the brain, if long neglected, becomes as inveterate as other chronic diseases of func- tion, and success under any treatment will mainly depend upon early attention being paid to the case. The iVsylum here only contains the most unfavourable and dishearten- ing subjects to work upon ; the inmates being generally poor, friendless wretches, picked up by the police in high- ways, or confined by order of the magistrate for offences committed in paroxysms of madness. T\'e have seldom any previous history of the individual to enable us to guess whether the disease is one of organic lesion or func- tional derangement only of the brain, and possibly the persons may never have been sane in their lives ; under these circumstances, any success whatever from a new mode of treatment would surely be very satisfactory and encou- raging. By habitually expecting little, and being thankful for the smallest favour from nature, I have generally had my expectations more than realized. " The patients were taken in the order of their names in the register, and none were rejected, except for old age or self-evident idiotcy; care being also taken that the persons were then perfectly mad, lest a lucid interval might be the commencement of a permanent cure. During the P 314 APPENDIX. last six months, thirty-seven persons have been mes- merised, and the results are : — 8 cured. 1 cured, and relapsed. 18 no change. 1 died. 9 under treatment — 5 much improved. 37 " As I mentioned, we found tlie insane as readily af- fected as tJie sane ; many of the patients being thrown into the trance, although it was not desired to do so, it not being thought necessary. One morning I found a new man being mesmerised, without orders ; the native doctor said, that he had come to the hospital that morning, and, as his throat was cut, he had desired him to be entranced, if possible, to have it sewn up. On examining the man 1 found him intensely entranced (after half an hour), and fk. to bear any operation; but, I not having the necessary instiTiments at hand, it was put off. Next day, he was again found entranced, and, the edges of the wound having become callous, they were pared raw with a knife, and the wound was then brought together with stitches and plaster. He was in no way disturbed by this, and, on waking, was sm-prised to find himself no longer breath- ing through the whole in his neck. Several of the men dated their recovery from a certain day, saying, that after awaking on such a day they had felt their ' heads ligJd- ened' or their ^hearts opened;' and their conduct and ap- pearance agreed with this statement. The rapid change effected in one man, named Beekoram, was very striking. ^Vhen brought before us, he was the very picture of a moping madman, his mind and body being equally listless APPENDIX. 315 and apathetic; liis countenance was void of expression, and no rational answers to questions could be got from liim. This was one of the men who passed into the trance, and at the end of ten days he was absolutely a new being, and had become as active and intelligent as he had formerly been torpid and stupid. " Dr. Strong, one da}'', asked me in conversation, if there was any reason to suppose that the natives of this country knew mesmerism before we introduced it among them. I replied that it could not be reasonably doubted, and that their medical conjurors are often genuine mesme- risers, as I have described in my Mesmerism in India. This has been confirmed from different quarters, and especially by Dr. Davidson, late resident at Jeyepore. This gentle- man, visiting our hospital, and seeing the mesmerisers stroking and breathing upon the patients, said, ' I now understand what the jar-phoonk of Upper India means ; it is nothing but mesmerism.' Being requested to explain himself, he continued : — ' Many of my people, after T had tried in vain to cure them of different severe complaints, used to ask leave for several weeks to be treated by the Jadoo-wallah, or conjuror ; and, to my great surprise, they often returned quite well, and, in reply to my inquiries, they always said that they had undergone a process called jar-phoonJc. I could never understand what this was, but I now see it before me; it is the combination of stroking and breathing; jama, being to stroke, and phoonka, to breathe; which very correctly describes the mesmeric process.' " This conversation with Dr. Strong took place in the presence of the mesmerisers and patients ; and, turning to the former, I asked if any of them knew what the/ar- phoonk was in Upper India ; but they were chiefly Benga- lese, and had not heard of it. Beekoram, who had been p 2 316 APPENDIX. listening, said, * Jar-plioonk ? yes, I know it, — I am an up-country man, and will tell you all about it ; this is the way the Jadoo-wallahs do ;' and he went through the process with great precision, pretty much as I have described it as practised in Bengal. TJiis man, and three other recovered patients, were taught to mesmerise, and in a few trials subdued their subjects as well as could be desired, and, as a moral discipline, they were required to report upon the conduct of their patients during the day, which they did very satisfactorily every morning. These men, being criminals, have not been discharged, and may be conversed with in the hospital now. " Dr. Kean, of Berhampore, writes to me that he has had much more striking success in his Lunatic Asylum, probably owing to more regular superintendence, which is indispensable ; for if not done with a ivill, it need not be done at all. •' Dr. Kean says : — ' Taking a hasty glance over the years 1847 and 1848, I see that about 74 patients were mesmerised ; and that of these, 64 were discharged cured to all appearance, and I think it has been successful in every case of epilepsy.' " It thus appears, that mesmerism is likely to be as ser- viceable in the treatment of insanity, as it is in general medicine and the practice of surgery, and I should like extremely to prosecute the subject to the extent it deserves, both for its physical and metaphysical interest; for the physical effects of mesmerism comprise only one-half of the subject, and we must be familiar with both the bodily and mental phenomena before we can attempt to reason with any success upon the nature and laws which govern this wonderful vital agent." — Second HaJf-Yearly Report of the Calcutta Mesmeric Hospital, 1849. APPENDIX. 317 G.— (Page 125.) *' If we bear in mind that as no occurrence in the world, so also no phenomena of nature, either in the animal or vegetable kingdom, can appear without standing in relation to, or as the immediate result of, another that has preceded it ; (as the present condition of a plant or animal is de- pendent upon certain pre-existing conditions ; ) it is clear, that if all the causes that affect one condition, and that influence upon time and space, with their properties, are known to us, we shall be able to declare what other condi- tions will succeed the former one. The extreme of these conditions or relations, is what we term a natural law." — On Investigatmi pursued according to Physiological laws, by Justus Liehig. " It seems to me that a like degree of empiricism at- taches to descriptions of the universe and to civil history ; but in reflecting upon physical phenomena and events, and tracing their courses by the processes of reason, we become more and more convinced of the ancient doctrine, that the forces inherent in matter and those which govern the moral world, exercise their action under the control of pre-mor- dial necessity, and in accordance with movements occurring periodically, after longer or shorteriutervals." — Humboldt : Cosmos i vol. i. p. 30. H.— (Page 128.) " Contrary to the wishes and counsels of those profound and powerful thinkers, who have given new life to specula- 318 APPEXDIX. tions whicTi were already familiar to the ancients, systems of natural philosophy have in our own country for some time past turned aside the minds of men from the graver study of mathematical and physical sciences. The abuse of better powers, which has led many of our noble but ill- judging youth into the saturnalia of a purely ideal science of nature, has been signalized by the intoxication of pre- tended conquests, by a novel and fantastically symbolical phraseology, and by a predilection for the formulae of a scholastic rationalism, more contracted in its views than any known to the middle ages. I use the expression * abuse of better powers,' because superior intellects de- voted to philosophical pursuits and experimental science have remained strangers to these saturnalia. The results yielded by an earnest investigation in the path of experi- ment, cannot be at variance with a true philosophy of nature." — Humholdt : Cosmos, end of Litroduction . " He who hath not first, and before all, intimately ex- plored the movements of the human mind, and therein most accurately distinguished the course of knowledge and the seats of error, shall find all things masked, and as it were enchanted, and, till he undo the charm, shall be un- able to interpret." — Bacon : Impediments of Interpretation. " But men are more disposed to give themselves to speculation than to the painful study of nature. At each step the metaphysicians come in to retard the progress of the naturalists : and in general it is to the metaphysicians that we must attribute the ignorance in which we are still involved respecting the true nature of Man: and this shameful slavery will continue so long as we refuse to ac- quire the details of an organization capable of explaining all the phenomena of sensibility, all the various instincts, APPENDIX. 319 propensities and intellectual faculties." — Gall, vol. ii. p. 15. " The understanding, like the eye, whilst it makes us see and perceive all other things, takes no notice of itself : it requires art and pains to set it at a distance, and make it its own object." — Locke. " So that it is not the insufficiency or incapacity of man's mind, but it is the remote standing or placing thereof, that breedeth these mazes and incomprehensions : for as the sense afar off is full of mistaking, but is exact at hand, so is it of the understanding ; the remedy whereof is not to quicken or strengthen the organ, but to go nearer to the object." — Bacon : Advancement of Learning. " Por however men may be satisfied with themselves, and rush into a blind admiration and almost adoration of the human mind, one thing is most certain, namely, that as an uneven mirror changes the rays proceeding from objects according to its own figure and position, so the mind, when affected by things through the senses, does not act in the most trustworthy manner, but inserts and mixes her own nature into that of things, whilst clearing and recollecting her notions." — Bacon : Distribution of the work. "As far as relates to the first notions of the under- standing, not any of the materials which tlie understanding, when left to itself, has collected, are unsuspected by us ; nor will we confirm them unless they themselves be put upon their trial and be judged accordingly." — Lbid. We have at length arrived at the important truth 320 APPENDIX. which now seems so very obvious a one, that the mind is to be known best by observation of the series of changes which it presents, and of all the circumstances which pre- cede and follow these ; that in attempting to explain its phenomena, therefore, we should know what these pheno- mena are, and that we might as well attempt to discover, by logic, unaided by observation or experiment, the various coloured rays that enter into the composition of a sun- beam, as to discover by dialectic subtilties, d prio7% the various feelings that enter into the composition of a single thought or passion," — Dr. Thomas Broion. But when a thing lies still, unless something else stii* it, it will lie still for ever, is a truth no one doubts of. But that when a thing is in motion, it will eternally be in motion unless somewhat else stay it, though the reason be the same, (namely, that nothing can change itself,) is not so easily assented to : for men measure not only other men, but all other things, by themselves." — Hobbes, on Imagination. "No one has yet been found possessed of sufficient firmness and severity to resolve upon and undertake the task of entirely abolishing common theories and notions, and applying the mind afresh, when thus cleared and levelled to particular researches. Hence our human reason is a mere farrago and crude mass, made up of a great deal of credulity and accident ; and the peurile notions it ori- ginally contracted." — Bacon: Novum Organon, A. 97. "It may happen in science, as in building, that an error in the foundation shall weaken the whole, and the further the building is carried on, the weakness shall be- come more apparent and the more threatening. Some- APPENDIX. 321 thing of this kind seems to have happened in cur systems concerning the mind." — Reid. I._(Page 166.) " It appears but as yesterday ; yet, nevertheless, it was at the beginning of the year 1788. We were dining with one of our brethren at the Academy, — a man of conside- rable wealth and genius. The company was numerous and diversified — courtiers, lawyers, academicians, &c. ; and, according to custom, there had been a magnificent dinner. At dessert, the wines of Malvoisin and Constantia added to the gaiety of the guests that sort of liberty which is sometimes forgetful of bon ton : — we had arrived in the world, just at that time when anything was permitted that would raise a laugh. Chamfort had read to us some of his impious and libertine tales, and even the great ladies had listened without having recourse to theu' fans. From this arose a deluge of jests against religion. One quoted a tirade from the Pucelle; another recalled the philosophic lines of Diderot, — * Et des boyaux du dernier pretre, Serrez le cou du dernier roi,' for the sake of applauding them. A third rose, and holding his glass in his hand, exclaimed, ' Yes, gentlemen, I am as sure that there is no God, as I am sure that Homer is a fool ;' and, in truth, he was as sure of the one as of the other. The conversation became more serious ; much admiration was expressed on the revolution, which Voltaire had effected, and it was agreed that it was his first claim p 5 322 APPENDIX. to the reputation he enjoyed : — he had given the prevailing tone to his age, and had been read in the ante-chamber, as well as in the drawing-room. One of the guests told us, while bm-sting with laughter, that his hairdresser, while powdering his hair, had said to him — * Bo you observe , sir, that altliougli I am hut a poor miserable barber, I have no more religion than any other' We concluded that the revolution must soon be consummated, — that it was in- dispensable that superstition and fanaticism should give place to philosophy, and we began to calculate the pro- babihty of the period when this should be, and which of the present company should live to see the reign of reason. The oldest complained that they could scarcely flatter themselves with the hope ; the younger rejoiced, that they might entertain this very probable expectation ; — and they congratulated the Academy especially for having prepared this great loorh, and for having been the great rallying point, the centre, and the prime mover of the liberty of thought. " One only of the guests had not taken part in all the joyousness of this conversation, and had even gently and cheerfully checked our splendid enthusiasm. This was Cazotte, an amiable and original man, but unhappily in- fatuated with the reveries of the illuminati. He spoke, and with the most serious tone. ' Gentlemen,' said he, ' be satisfied ; you will all see this great and sublime revolu- tion, which you so much desire. You know that I am a little inclined to prophesy : I repeat, j^ou will see it.' He was answered by the common rejoinder, ' One need not be a conjuror to see that^ ' Be it so ; but perhaps one must be a little more than conjm-or, for what remains for me to tell you. Do you know what will be the consequence of this revolution, — what will be the consequence to all of you, and what will be the immediate result, — the well- APPENDIX. 323 established effect, — the thoroughly recognisecl consequence to all of you who are here present?' ' A.h !' said Con- dorcet, with his insolent, and half-suppressed smile, ' let us hear, — a philosopher is not sorry to encounter a pro- phet.' ' You, Monsieur de Condorcet, you will yield up your last breath on the floor of a dungeon ; — you will die from poison, which you will have taken, in order to escape from execution, — from poison which Hie Jiappiness of that time will oblige you to carry about your person.' " At first astonishment was most marked ; but it was soon recollected, that the good Cazotte is liable to dream- ing, though apparently wide awake, and a hearty laugh is the consequence. ' Monsieur Cazotte, the relation which you give us is not so agreeable as your Diable Amoureux' — (a novel of Cazotte' s). " ' But what diable has put into your head this prison, and this poison, and these executioners ? What can all these have in common with philosophy and the reign of reason ?' * This is exactly what I say to you ; it is in the name of philosophy, — of humanity, — of liberty ; — it is under the reign of reason, that it will happen to you thus, to end your career ; — and it will indeed be the reign of reason ; for then she will have her temples, and indeed, at that time, there will be no other temples in France than the temples of reason.' ' By my truth,' said Chamfort, with a sarcastic smile, 'you will not be one of the priests of those temples.' * I do not hope it ; but you. Monsieur de Chamfort, who will be one, and most worthy to be so, you will open your veins with twenty-two cuts of a razor, and yet you will not die till some months afterwards.' They looked at each other, and laughed again. ' You, Monsieur Vicq d'Azir, you will not open your own veins, but you will cause yourself to be bled, six times in one day, during a paroxysm of the gout, in order to make more sure of your end, and you will die in the night. You, Monsieur 324 APPENDIX. de Nicolai, you will die upon the scaffold ; — you, M. Bailly, on the scaffold ; — you, Monsieur de Malesherbes, on the scaffold.' — ' Ah ! God be thanked,' exclaimed Boucher, ' it seems that Monsieur has no eye, but for the Academy ; — of it he has just made a terrible execution, and I, thank heaven ' ' You ! you also will die upon the scaffold.' ' Oh, what an admirable guesser,' was uttered on all sides ; ' he has sworn to exterminate us all.' ' No, it is not I who have sworn it.' — ' But shall we then be conquered by the Turks or the Tartars ? Yet again . . .' * Not at all ; I have already told you, you will then be governed only by philosophy, — only by reason. They who will thus treat you, will be all philosophers, — will always have upon their lips the self-same phrases which you have been putting forth for the last hom% — will repeat aU your maxims, — and will quote, as you have done, the verses of Diderot, and from La Pucelle.' They then whispered among themselves ; — ' You see that he is gone mad;' — for he preserved all this time the most serious and solemn manner. ' Do you not see that he is joking ? and you know that, in the character of his jokes, there is always much of the marvellous.' ' Yes,' replied Chamfort, ' but his marvellousness is not cheerful ; — it savours too much of the gibbet, — and when will all this happen ?' ' Six years will not pass over before all that I have said to you shall be accomplished.' " ' Here are some astonishing miracles,' (and this time, it was I myself who spoke,) ' but you have not included me in your list.' ' But you will be there, as an equally extraordinary miracle ; you will then be a Christian.' " Vehement exclamations on all sides. ' Ah,' re- plied Chamfort, ' I am comforted, if loe shall perish only when La Harpe shall be a Christian, we are immortal.' " ' As for that,' then observed Madame la Duchess de Graramont, ' we women, we are happy to be counted for APPENDIX. 325 nothing in these revolutions : — when I say for nothing, it is not that we do not always mix ourselves up with them a little, but it is a received maxim, that they take no no- tice of us, and of our sex.* * Your sex, ladies, will not protect you this time; and you had far better meddle with nothing, for you will be treated entirely as men, without any difference whatever.' ' But what, then, are you really telling us of, Monsieur Cazotte? — You are preaching to us the end of the world.' ' I know nothing on this subject : but what I do know is, that you, Madame la Duchesse, will be conducted to the scaffold, you and many other ladies with you, in the cart of the executioner, and with your hands tied behind your backs.' ' Ah ! I hope that, in that case, I shall have a carriage hung in black.' ' No, madame ; higher ladies than yourself will go like you in the common car, with their hands tied behind them.' * Higher ladies ! what ! the princesses of the blood ?' * Still more exalted personages.' — Here a sensible emo- tion pervaded the whole company, and the countenance of the host was dark and lowering : — they began to feel that the joke was become too serious. Madame de Gram- mont, in order to dissipate the cloud, took no notice of the reply, and contented herself with saying, in a careless tone, — ' You see that he will not leave me even a confessor.^ * No, madame, you will not have one, neither you, nor any one besides. The last victim to whom this favour will be aft'orded, will be ' He stopped for a moment. * Well 1 who then will be the happy mortal, to whom this prerogative will be given ? ' ' 'Tis the only one which he will have then retained — and that will be the king of France.' " The master of the house rose hastily, and every one with him. He walked up to M. Cazotte, and addressed him with a tone of deep emotion ;-=* My dear Monsieur 326 APPENDIX. Cazotte, this mournful joke has lasted long enough. You carry it too far, — even so far as to derogate from the so- ciety in which you are, and from your own character.' Cazotte answered not a word, and was preparing to leave, when Madame de Grammont, who always sought to dis- sipate serious thought, and to restore the lost gaiety of the party, approached him, saying, ' Monsieur the pro- phet, who has foretold us of our good fortune, you have told us nothing of your own.' He remained silent for some time, with downcast eyes. ' Madame, have you ever read the siege of Jerusalem, in Josephus ? ' ' Yes ! who has not read that ! But answer as if I had never read it.' * Well then, madame, during the siege, a man for seven days in succession, went round the ramparts of the city, in sight of the besiegers and besieged, crying un- ceasingly, with an ominous and thundering voice. Woe to Jerusalem ; and the seventh time he cried, JFoe to Jerma- lein, woe to myself — and at that moment an enormous stone, projected from one of the machines of the besieging army, struck him, and destroyed him.' " And, after this reply, M. Cazotte made his bow and retired. " "VYhen, for the first time, I read this astonishing pre- diction, I thought that it was only a fiction of La Harpe's, and that that celebrated critic wished to depict the asto- nishment which would have seized persons distinguished for their rank, their talents, and their fortune, if, several years before the revolution, one could have brought before them the causes which were preparing, and the frightful consequences which would follow. The inquiries which I have since made, and the information I have gained, have induced me to change my opinion. M. le Comte A. de Montesquieu, having assured me that Madame de Genlis had repeatedly told him that she had often heard APPENDIX. 327 this prediction related by M. de La Hai'pe, I begged of him to have the goodness to solicit from that lady more ample details. This is her reply : — " ' November, 1825. " ' I think I have somewhere placed, among my souvenirs, the anecdote of M. Cazotte, but I am not sure. I have heard it related a hundred times by M. de La Harpe, be- fore the revolution, and always in the same form as I have met with it in print, and as he himself has caused it to be printed. This is all that I can say, or certify, or au- thenticate by my signature. — Comtesse de Genlis.' " * I have also seen the son of M. Cazotte, who assured me that his father was gifted in a most remarkable man- ner, with a faculty of pre-vision, of which he had num- berless proofs ; one of the most remarkable of which was, that on returning home on the day on which his daughter had succeeded in delivering him from the hands of the wretches who were conducting him to the scaffold, instead of partaking the joy of his surrounding family, he declared that in three days he should be again arrested, and that he should then undergo his fate ; and in truth he perished on the 25th of Sept. 1792, at the age of 72.' *' In reference to the above narrative, M. Cazotte, jun., would not undertake to affirm that the relation of La Harpe was exact in all its expressions, but had not the smallest doubt as to the reality of i\\e facts. " I ought to add, that a friend of Vicq d'Azir, an in- habitant of Reimes, told me, that that celebrated physician, ha\dng travelled into Brittany some years before the revo- lution, had related to him, before his family, the prophecy of Cazotte. It seemed that notwithstanding his scepti- cism, Yicq d'Azir was uneasy about this prediction. " Letter on this subject addressed to M. Mialle by M. le Baron Delamothe Lanson : — 328 APPENDIX. " ' You inquire of me, my dear friend, what I know concerning the famous prediction of Cazotte mentioned by La Harpe. I have only on this subject to assui-e you upon my honour that I have heard Madame le Comtesse de Beauharnais many times assert that she was present at this very singular historical fact. She related it always in the same way, and with the accent of truth ; — her evi- dence fully corroborated by that of La Harpe. She spoke thus, before all the persons of the society in which she moved, many of whom still live, and could equally attest this assertion. " ' You may make what use you please of this communi- cation. " ' Adieu, my good old friend. I remain with inviolable attachment, yours, "'Baron Delamothe Langon.'" " ' Paris, Dec. 18th, 1833.' " — La Harpe: Posthumous Memoirs, Paris, 1 806, vol.i. p. 62 A FEW PASSAGES FROM THE LIFE OF JOAN OF ARC. " On the 12th of February, 1428, on which the disas- trous battle of Rouvray- Saint-Denis was fought, Joan said to M. Robert de Badricourt, Governor of Vaucouleurs, that the king had suffered great losses before Orleans, and would experience further losses unless she were sent to him. The exactitude of this announcement determined Baudricourt to send her. " The next day, on her departure, many persons asked Joan how she could possibly undertake^this journey, since the whole country was overrun with soldiers : she an- swered that she should find the way clear. No accident happened to her, nor to those who accompanied her, and" even very few difficulties during the whole journey, which lasted eleven days, through an enemy's country, at the APPENDIX. 329 close of winter, over a distance of one hundred and fifty- leagues, and intersected by several deep rivers. " On the 27th of February, when she was about to be presented to the king, a man on horseback who saw her passing, employed some blasphemous expressions. Joan heard him, and turning her head, said, ' Ha, dost thou blaspheme the n me of God, and yet so near to death ?' In about an hour afterwards, this man fell into the water, and was drowned. " The following month Joan informed the doctors, who were commissioned to examine her at Poictiers : — "1. That the English would be beaten ; that they would raise the siege of Orleans ; and that this city would be delivered from the said English ; " 2. That the king would be consecrated at Eeims; "3. That the city of Paris would be restored to its loyalty ; " 4. That the Duke of Orleans would return from Eng- land. " The king, in council, having determined to send Joan to Orleans, they commissioned her to conduct a convoy of provisions of which the place stood in the greatest need. It was observed to her, that it would be a difficult enter- prise, considering its fortifications, and the English be- siegers, who were strong and powerfid. ' By the help of my God,' answered she, ' we will put them into Orleans easily and wdthout any attempt to prevent us on the part of the English.' " The generals of Cliarles VII. not daring to take the route which Joan had pointed out to them, the convoy was obliged to halt at some leagues from Orleans, from the want of water, and from adverse winds. Everybody was confounded and in grief; but Joan announced that the wind would soon change, and that the provisions would 330 APPENDIX. be easily thrown into the town, in spite of the English : all which was completely verified. " The English retained one of the heralds whom Joan had sent to summon them to surrender ; — they even wished to burn him alive ; — and they wrote to the uni- versity of Paris to consult upon the subject : Joan assured them, that they would do him no harm. "When Joan appeared on the redoubt, called the boulevard de la Belle-Croix, to summon them to raise the siege, these loaded her with abuse, especially one of the officers, to whom Joan replied, * that he spoke falsely, and in spite of them all they would soon depart but that he would never see it, and that many of his people would be killed. In fact, when the fort of Tournelles was taken, this officer wished to make his escape by the bridge which separated the fort from the suburbs ; but an arch gave way beneath his feet, and he, with all his men, were drowned. " Having introduced the convoy of provisions and am- munition into Orleans, Joan foretold to the inhabitants, that in five days not an Englishman would remain before their walls. " On the 6th of May, Joan informed her confessor, that on the next day she should be wounded above the bosom, while before the fort at the end of the bridge. And in fact she received a lance between the neck and the shoulder, which passed out nearly half a foot behind the neck. " On the morning of the 7th, her host having invited her to partake of some fish which had been brought him, she desired him to keep it till night, because she would then bring him a stranger who would do his part in eating it. She added, that after having taken the Tournelles, she would re-pass the bridge, — a promise which seemed APPENDIX. 331 impossible to any body — but which nevertheless was ful- filled, like all the other impossibilities. " The iiTesolution of the king was the greatest punish- ment to Joan : ' I shall only continue for a year, and a very httle more,' said she ; ' I must try to employ that year well.' " The Duchesse d'Alengon was greatly alarmed, on see- ing her husband at the head of the army, which was about to enforce the coronation of the king at Eeims. Joan told her to fear nothing, — that she would bring him back safe and sound, and in a better condition than he was at that moment. "At the attack of Jargean, the Due d'Alencon was attentively reconnoitring the outworks of the toA^Ti, when Joan told him to remove from the spot on which he was standing, or that he would be killed by some warlike missile. The duke removed, and almost immediately after- wards, a gentleman of Anjou, by the name of M. de Lade, was struck in the very place which the duke had just left. " The English generals, Talbot, Searles, and Falstafi", having arrived with four thousand men to the relief of the Castle of Beaugenie, in order to raise the siege of that place, Joan predicted that the English would not defend themselves — would be conquered — and that this triumph would be almost bloodless on the part of the royal army — and that there would be very fete — not quite to say no one — killed of the Prench combatants. In truth, they lost but one man^ and almost all the English were killed or taken. " Joan had told the king not to fear any want of troops for the expedition to Reims, — for that there would be plenty of persons, and many would follow him ; in truth. 332 APPENDIX. the army increased visibly from day to day, and numbered twelve thousand men by the end of June 1429. " When the army had arrived before Troyes, that city shut its gates, and refused to yield. Mter five days' wait- ing, and useless efforts of capitulation, the majority of the council advised to return to Gien ; but Joan declared that in less than three days she would introduce the king into the city by favour or by force. The chancellor said that they would even wait six days if they could be sure of the truth of her promises. ' Doubt nothing,' said she — * you will be master of the city to-morrow^ Immediately preparations w^ere made for the projected assault, which so alarmed the inhabitants and their garrison, that they capitulated next day. " Charles feared that the city of Reims would oppose a long resistance to his arms, and that it would be difficult to make himself master of it, because he was deficient in artillery. ' Plave no doubt,' said Joan, ' for the citizens of the town of Reims will anticipate you. Before you are close to the city, the inhabitants will surrender.' On the 16th of July the principal inhabitants of the city laid its keys at the feet of the king. " During her captivity, Joan made the following predic- tions on the 1st of March, 1430, in the presence of fifty- nine witnesses, whose names are given faithfully by M. le Brun de Charmettes : ' Before seven years are past, the English will abandon a larger prize than they have done before Orleans, and will lose everything in France. " ' They will experience the severest loss they have ever felt in France ; — and this will be by a great victory which God will bestow upon the French.' " Paris was actually re-taken by the French under the command of the Marshal de Richemont and the Count de Dunois on the 14th of April, 1436. APPENDIX. 333 " As to the great victory which should prove so fatal to the English, M. le Brun thinks may be understood, either the battle of Tormigny, gained by the French in 1450, and which resulted in the conquest of Normandy, — or the battle of Castillon, fought in 1452, in which the renowned general Talbot perished, and which completed the submis- sion of la Guinne to Erance. " In order to explain the expression, will lose everything in France, the same author recals the fact, that the people in general restricted the term Erance to what had origi- nally composed the immediate dominion of Hugo Capet and his successors, as I'lsle de Erance, I'Orleannais, le Berri, la Touraine, &c. Thus Joan of Arc, born at Domreny, at the extremity of la Champagne, said that Saint Michel had ordered her to go into Erance." K.— (Page 167.) " The process of condensation, which formed a part of the doctrine of Anaximenes, and of the Ionian School, ap- pears to be going on before our eyes. This subject of in- vestigation and conjecture is especially attractive to the imagination, for in the study of the animated circles of Nature, and of the action of all the moving forces of the universe, the charm that exercises the most powerful in- fluence on the mind is derived less from a knowledge of that which is, than from a perception of that which will be, even though the latter be nothing more than a new condition of a known material existence ; for of actual creation, of origin, the beginning of existence from non- existence, we have no experience, and can therefore form 334 APPENDIX. no conception." — Cosmos : Humholdt^ on Celestial PJieno- tnena. " Wrongly do the Greeks suppose that aught begins or ceases to be ; for nothing comes into being or is destroyed : but all is an aggregation or secretion of pre-existent things; so that ' all becoming ' might more correctly be called 'becoming-mixed/ and all corruption 'becoming separate,'" — Anaxagoras. " Fools ! who think aught can begin to be, which for- merly was not. Or that aught which is, can perish and utterly decay. Another truth I can unfold ; no natural birth is there of mortal things ; nor death, destruction final ; nothing is there but a mingling, and then a separa- tion of the mingled, which are called a birth and death by ignorant mortals." — Emjpeclocles. " The world was made neither by god or man ; and it was, and is, and ever shall be, an ever living fire in due measure self-enkindled, and in due measure self-extin- ffuish e d . " — HeracUtus . L.— (Page 168.) " Where then shall we find proofs of the mind's in- fluence on the bodily structure ? of that mind which, like the corporal frame, is infantile in the child, manly in the adult, sick and debilitated in disease, frenzied or melan- choly in the madman, enfeebled in the decline of life, doting in decrepitude, and annihilated by death." — Lawrence. APPENDIX. 335 " Suet as to eactmau is the nature of his many-jointed limbs, Such also is the intelligence of each man ; for it is The nature of limbs (organization) which thinketh in men, Both in one, and in all ; for the highest degree of orga- nization gives The highest degree of thought." — Farmeiiides . Thought is the same thing as the cause of thought : For without the thing in which it is announced You cannot find the thought ; For there is nothing, nor shall be Except the existing." -Farmenides. " But in proportion as certain observers arrived at tlie knowledge of the properties of bodies, they abandoned these external agents. Already Empedoclis, Leucippus, Democritus, the school of Hippocrates, the Stoics, Hera- clides, Epicurus, Asclepiades, Archigenes, Lucretius, Are- taeus, regarded life and all its operations as an effect of or- ganization." — Gaily vol. ii. p. 14. " The natural philosophy of Democritus and some others, (who did not suppose a mind or reason in the frame of things, but attributed the form thereof able to maintain itself, to infinite assays or proofs of nature which they term fortune,) seemeth to me, as far as I can judge by the recital and fragments which remain unto us, in particula- rities of physical causes, more real and better inquired than that of Aristotle and Plato; whereof both intermingled Pinal Causes ; the one as a part of theology, the other as a part of logic, which were the favourite studies respec- 336 APPENDIX. tively of both tliose persons." — Bacon : Advancement of Learning, " For altliougli the greatest generalities in nature must be positive, just as they are found, and, in fact, not camable, yet the human understanding, incapable of rest- ing, seeks for something more intelligible. This, how- ever, whilst aiming at further progress, it falls back to what is actually less advanced, namely, Final Causes ; for they are clearly more allied to man's own nature than the system of the universe ; and from this source they have wonderfully corrupted philosophy." — Bacon : Nov. Org., ^.48. M.— (Page 171.) Hobbes says of Harvey, " He is the only man I know, that, conquering envy, hath established a new doctrine in his lifetime," — and yet twenty-five years elapsed before this was accomplished. And at Harvey's death, no phy- sician in Europe, above the age of forty, believed in his discovery. " The persecution of Harvey appears to have been prompted only by the mean passions of his contemporaries. No other motive is obvious ; for it is difficult to see in what way ' the craft' was endangered. In this case, how- ever, as in many others, it almost appeared as if men had some strong personal interest in keeping back the truth, so eagerly did they exert themselves to resist it." — Chambers's Journal^ vol. vi. p. 41. APPENDIX. 337 " Facts," says Sir C. Bell, *' have been denied with a heat and pertinacity which I can never understand. " Whatever may be thought of the reasoning pursued in this volume, the facts admit of no contradiction : and, perhaps hereafter, curiosity may be excited, to know in what manner they were first received. The gratification in the enquiry has been very great ; the reception by the profession has been the reverse of what I expected. The early announcement of my occupation failed to draw one encouraging sentence from medical men. When the pub- lication of these papers by the Eoyal Society made it im- possible to overlook them altogether, the interest they excited di-ew countenance on those who opposed them, or who pretended to have anticipated them. To myself this has ceased to be of any consequence ; but I con- fess, I regret to leave those young men who have honourably and zealously assisted me in these enquiries, in the delusive hope of labouring to the gratification of their own profession. The pleasure arising from the pursuit of natural knowledge, and the society of men of science, must be their sufficient reward." — Si?- C. BeJVs Preface to " The Nervous System'' 1830. " Democritus, the father of experimental philosophy, declared that he would prefer a discovery of one great cause of the works of nature to the diadem of Persia. He was accused of insanity; and Hippocrates was ordered to enquire into the nature of his disorder. The physician had a conference with the philosopher, and declared that not Democritus, but bis enemies, were insane." — Bacon: Holy War. " Not the feeblest grandam, not the mowing idiot, but uses what spark of perception and faculty is left to chuckle 338 APPENDIX. and triumph in his or her opinion over the absurdities of all the rest. Difference from me is the measure of absur- dity : but one has a misgiving of being wrong." — Einersoti. " But if any one be influenced by an inveterate uni- formity of opinion, as though it were the decision of time — let him learn that he is relying on a most fallacious and weak argument." — Bacon : Preface to Inatauration. "Touching the operation upon the spirits, that they remain youthful, and renew their vigour, — thus much : which we have done more accurately, for that there is, for the most part, among the physicians, and other authors, touching these operations, a deep silence." — Bacon : His- tory of Life and Death. "And even should the odium I have alluded to be avoided, yet it is sufficient to repress the increase of science that such attempts and industry pass unrewarded. For the cultivation of science and its rewards belong not to the same individual. The advancement of science is the work of a powerful genius ; the prize and reward be- long to the vulgar, or to princes who (with a few ex- ceptions) are scarcely moderately well-informed. Nay, — such progress is not only deprived of the rewards and beneficence of individuals, but even of popular praise : for it is above the reach of the generality, and easily over- whelmed and extinguished by the winds of common opinion. It is not wonderful, therefore, that little success has attended that which has been little honoured." — Bacon: Nov, Org.y Apli. 91, Part I. APPENDIX. 339 N.— (Page 172.) " In the progress of time I was declared old enough to be initiated into the mysteries of the Christian faith, and sanctified by my first participation in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Whether I was fit for the holy ceremony was never asked at all. The Christianity of our en- lightened Europe is for the most part mere matter of ceremony and habit, and the present representatives of the Apostles among our Christian congregations, trouble them- selves often about little else than their own emoluments and dignities, while professing to be called to their holy office by a divine spirit." — Life of Zscliokke, p. 13. " (At Havre) I found it no easy matter to procure a pas- sage for my Mulatto charge on board an American ship : nearer intercourse with him was thought offensive. When I took the boy with me to the table dli6te in the evening, an American captain was about to quit the table in disgust, if his own wife had not prevented the commission of this folly ! The arrogant contempt of these Eepublicans for their coloured fellow-creatuxes is know^n to all the world. Europeans justly think this prejudice ridiculous or revolt- ing; yet, with all their supposed freedom from similar prejudices, they find the difference between noble and ig- noble blood, and belief in degradation through unequal marriages, as they are called, neither one nor the other. Do they stand one inch higher above the slough of middle- age prejudice than the Americans? In sad and sober earnest, our Europeans and Americans, so proud of their mental culture, their art, their science, and their Chris- tianity, seem to me, with their smooth moral pretences, a2 340 APPENDIX. without morality; their systematised human slaughter, their justice-defying state maxims, not much wiser or more Christian than the world of heathen Athens and Eome 2,000 or 3,000 years ago V'—Life of ZschokJce, p. 191. 0.— (Page 173.) What a satire upon 'theology is the history of all faiths, and the ill-feeling and confusion arising from the conflicts of opinion going on at this moment ! such dis- agreements among the professors being proof sufficient of fundamental error and delusion — the badge of false science, as Bacon has it. There are as many shepherds as sheep ; and where every one is tinkling his little bell, in what direction should a poor fellow turn, who would wil- lingly give up his conscience and his reason to be saved by the true specific ? Truly, in this age, a man may well be puzzled to know where to go to get either his body or his soul healed ; and if in this dilemma you venture to think for yourselves, the whole host — sheep, shepherds, and all — come at you like a pack of wolves. And there is no peace for a thinking man or a suffering one, but in silence, or the common resource- — hypocrisy. And, after a trial of thousands of years, where is the evidence of those fmits which the world has been promised, as the sure and only evidence of the true doctrine and inspired faith? Where are we to look for purity, and peace, and good fellowship ? Have not the praiseworthy efforts of the Peace advocates been ridiculed on all sides ? " More Bibles," and "more churches," is the constant and ineffec- APPENDIX. 341 tual cry of the clmrchmen ; — whilst the legislator, seeing- no chance of improvement by these or any other means he can devise, looks to his armies, and his ships, and his police force, and Acts of Parliament, as the only means of securing quiet and protection for society. Barbarians all ! for how shall we rule nature, except by obedience to the laws of nature ? And who, of our legislators or bishops, pretend to know these laws, or ever appeal to them, or even acknowledge their existence ? Yet, except by the knowledge of nature's laws in the constitution of Man, how can we exhibit any certain means of ameliorating his condition ? What use the sumptuous ceremonies of the church and court, the gabbling of creeds and the bow- ing of heads, and bending of knees — the standing up for one prayer, the sitting down for another ; first in one pul- pit, then in another a little lower — then at the altar ; now in one dress, now another — with all the hubbub about inessentials, stupid paraphernalia, and lifeless ceremonies, taking much more heed of what clothes shall be put on than of the truth which should be naked and without covering at all ; — in the name of common sense, what is it all worth if we do not accomplish the well-being of man- kind ? The little that is known of Man's nature is not acted upon, or is used against him. We boast of our breeds of cattle and our dogs — of our tulips and our fine geraniums — of the gas-lightings and the steam-engine, and pass ourselves by, " and the passions which govern all the rest are themselves ungoverued," and the under- standing without law. The only way to clear the mind of doubt or from con- fusion, is by drawing closer to the object, and to the material conditions. Men have deserted the substance for the shadow — we must draw them back again from the shadow to the substance. Theologians can hardly tolerate 342 APPENDIX. one another, except in the supposition that they may all be wrong. But let no one suppose, for a moment, that I wish to uproot the faculty of reverence and love, and true humility, or that I desire to cast a blight upon the pure and even prayerful aspirations towards infinite excellence and wisdom^ acknowledging those higher truths beyond our understanding, and the reach of our senses ; for there is a holy temple in the heart and understanding where each may worship according as his feelings, his understanding, and his conscience dictates ; and in lonely hours, from the promptings of that still small voice, acknowledging cheer- fully the divine rule of the God of nature, shall we seek to attain to holier thought and purer aspirations. All that I desire is from the temple of the true God to cast out a trading theology, selfish and false theories, hypocrisy and the worship of images and idols of all descriptions — whether in the form of man or beast, or other thing ex- isting upon the face of the earth or in the water under the earth. I would destroy the worship of gold, of power, of life, nor acknowledge any capricious, lawless rule in the " web of fate." No, the hard atheistical philosophy of mere sense reason and " human wisdom" is not my phi- losophy — that " philosophy which is not harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose, but musical as is Apollo's lute." All nature is miraculous — man is a miracle to himself, and his mind a perpetual revelation, on, and on, and on, in the march of time. If Christ could now view the systems which have arisen from his life, he would wish that he had never been born, so strange has the perversion been, and so strange the contradictory interpretations. We must become again as little children, and learn — not from the Bible of man, erroneously supposed divine, but from the Bible of God, which is nature— a language and revelation unchangeable and universal; but whilst men speak irre- APPENDIX. 343 verently of matter and slightingly of nature, are they not degraded by falsehood, and to be born again ere they can appreciate high things ? It is true, that I see no evidence of a future life, and I desu'e to see men raised above the want, believing with the pious and excellent Zschokke that it is a higher moral condition to live without such a hope ; but I would not diminish one happy and good im- pulse when consistent with truth, but let the whole man and all his powers be freely and fully developed. Like the little moth at the candle, the child man is ever flutter- ing in his hope that he may touch the light of infinity, and fearing lest he be cast back into darkness. Under the influence of damp and darkness, a man desires life and continued existence, a j massing from infinite night to in- finite day. When under the influence of high and elevating joy, and a bright atmosphere — when in our true normal and best condition — we are ready to die and melt away into the form and nature of the light and beauty with which we are surrounded ; but the understanding and "spiritual" being is clouded by a depressing theology and vulgar notions. What Englishman will believe you, that the close stove of Uussia is more agreeable and healthful than our bright blazing open fires ? but such is the fact. Nor will men easily loosen from theu' errors, and enter the temple of nature, and of the God of nature, which is, that infinite cause in nature, eternal, omnipresent, and without change — the principle of matter and of the properties of matter, motion, and the mind of matter, but neither matter, nor property, nor mind. W^hat it is, is beyond our compre- hension, and folly to suppose. The finite cannot grasp the infinite, nor phenomena a cause. 344 APPENDIX. P.— (Page 175.) CURATIVE POWER OF GREATRAKES. " The seventeenth and early part of the eighteenth cen- turies present us with several examples of private persons, who were supposed to have a miraculous power of curing by touch. The most celebrated was a Mr. Valentine Greatrakes, a Protestant gentleman of the county of Wa- terford, born in 1628 — a thoroughly sound Christian and good man, and occupying a highly respectable place in society. It was some time after the Restoration, while acting as clerk of the peace to the county of Cork, that Mr. Greatrakes first arrived at a conviction of his posses- sion of healing powers. In an account of himself, which he wrote in 1666, he says, 'About four years since, I had an impulse which frequently suggested to me that there was bestowed on me the gift of curing the king's evil, which, for the extraordinariness thereof, I thought fit to conceal for some time ; but at length I told my wdfe ; for, whether sleeping or waking, I had this impulse ; but her reply was, that it was an idle imagination. But to prove the contraiy, one William Maher, of the parish of Lismore, brought his son to my wife, who used to distribute medi- cines in charity to the neighbours ; and my wife came and told me, that I had now an opportunity of trying my impulse, for there was one at hand that had the evil grievously in the eyes, throat, and cheeks ; whereupon I laid my hands on the places afl"ected, and prayed to God, for Jesus' sake, to heal him. In a few days afterwards, the father brought his son with the eye so changed, that the eye was almost quite whole ; and to be brief (to God's glory I speak it), within a month he was perfectly healed, and so continues.' APPENDIX. 345 "Another person, still more afflicted, was soon aftercured by Mr. Greatrakes in the same manner ; and he then began to receive an 'impulse,' suggesting that he could cure other diseases. This he soon had an opportunity of proving, for ' there came unto me a poor man, with a violent pain in his loins, that he went almost double, and having also a grievous ulcer in his leg, very black, who desired me, for God's sake, to lay my hands on bim ; whereupon I put my hands on his loins and flank, and immediately went the pains out of him, so that he was relieved, and could stand upright without trouble ; the ulcer also in his leg was healed ; so that, in a few days, he returned to his labour as a mason.' " He now became extensively known for his gift of heal- ing, and was resorted to by people from greater distances, with the most of whom he was equally successful. Wounds, ulcers, convulsions, and dropsy, were among the maladies which he cured. In an epidemic fever he was also eminently successful, healing aU who came to him. So great was the resort to his house, that all the outhouses connected with it were usually filled vnih. patients, and he became so much engaged in the duty of healing them, as to have no time to attend to his own afl'airs, or to enjoy the society of his family. The clergy of the diocese at length took alarm at his proceedings, and he was cited by the Dean of Lismore before the Bishop's Court, by which he was forbidden to exercise his gift for the future — an order which reminds us of the decree of Louis XIV., commanding that no more miracles should be performed at the tomb of the Abbe Paris. Ml*. Greatrakes, nevertheless, continued to heal as formerly, until his fame reached England. In August, 1665, he received a visit from Mr. Plamstead, the astro- nomer, who was afflicted with a constitutional weakness; ' ut he failed in this case. Early in the ensuing year, he a5 346 APPENDIX. went to England for tlie purpose of curing the Viscountess Conway of an inveterate headaclie, in which also he failed. But, while residing at Ragley, with the Conway family, he cured many hundreds afflicted with various diseases. Lord Conway himself, in a letter to his brother, thus speaks of the healer : — ' I must confess, that, before his arrival, I did not beheve the tenth part of those things which I have been an eye-witness of; and several others, of as accurate judgment as any in the kingdom, who are come hither out of curiosity, do acknowledge the truth of his operations. This morning, the Bishop of Gloucester recommended to me a prebend's son in his diocese, to be brought to him for a leprosy from head to foot, which hath been judged ncurable above ten years, and in my chamber he cured him perfectly ; that is, from a moist humour, it was imme- diately dried up, and began to fall off; the itching was quite gone, and the heat of it taken away. The youth was transported to admiration After all, I am far from thinking that his cures are at all miraculous. I believe it is by a sanative virtue and a natural efficiency , which extends not to all diseases, but is much more pro- per and effectual to some than to others, as he doth also dispatch some with a great deal of ease, and others not without a great deal of pains.' " He was now invited by the king to come to London, whither he accordingly proceeded ; and as he went along through the country, we are told that the magistrates of cities and towns begged of him that he would come and cure theii' sick. The king, though not fully persuaded of his wonderful gift, recommended him to the notice of his physicians, and permitted him to do all the good he pleased in London. He went every day to a particular part of the city, where a prodigious number of people, of all ranks, and of both sexes, assembled. The only visible means he took APPENDIX. 347 to cure them, was to stroke the parts affected. The gout, rheumatism, and other painful affections, were diiven by his touch from one part to another, until lie got them ex- pelled at the very extremities of the body, after which the patient was considered as cm'ed. Such phenomena could not fail, in the most superstitious era of our history, to ex- cite great wonder, and attract universal attention. The cavalier wits and courtiers ridiculed them, as they ridiculed every thing else that appeared serious. St. Evremond, then at court, wrote a sarcastic novel on the subject, under the title of the Irish Prophet. Others, including several of the faculty, defended him. It even appears that the Koyal Society, unable to refute the facts, were compelled to account for them as produced by ' a sanative contagion in Mr. Greatrakes's body, which had an antipathy to some particular diseases, and not to others.' They also pub- lished some of his cures in their Transactions. A severe pamphlet by Dr. Lloyd, chaplain of the Charter-House, caused Mr. Greatrakes at this time to publish the account of himself which has been already quoted. In it, he says, ' Many demand of me why some are cured, and not all. To which question I answer, that God may please to make use of such means, by me, as shall operate according to the dispositions of the patient, and therefore cannot be ex- pected to be alike efficacious in all. They also demand of me why some are cured at once and not all ? and why the pains should fly immediately out of some, and take such ambages in others ? and why it should go out of some at their eyes, and some at their fingers, some at their ears or mouths ? To which I say, if all these things could have a j9^^/^accountgivenof them, there would be no cause to count them strange. Let them tell me what substance that is which removes and goes out with such expedition, and it will be more easy to resolve their questions. Some will know of 348 APPENDIX. me why or how I do pursue some pains from place to place till I have chased them out of the body, by laying my hands on the outsideof the clothes only (as is usual), and not all pains? To which I answer, that — and others have been abundantly satisfied that it is so — though I am not able to give a reason, yet I am apt to believe there are some pains which afflict men after the manner of evil spirits, which kind of pains cannot endure my hand, nay, not my gloves, but fly immediately, though six or eight coats or cloaks be put between the person and my hand, as at the Lady Kanelagh's at York House in London, as well as in Ire- land, has been manifested. Now, another question will arise, whether the operation of my hand proceeds from the tem- perature of my body, or from a divine gift, or from both. To which I say, that I have reason to believe that there is some extraordinary gift of God.' At the end of his nar- rative are appended a number of certificates as to his cures, signed by the most respectable, pious, and learned persons of the day, amongst whom are the Honourable Robert Boyle, Bishop Rust, Dr. Cudworth, Dr. Patrick, Dr. Whichcot, and Dr. Wilkins. Li 1667, he returned to Ireland, where he lived for many years, but without sus- taining his reputation for curing. It appears, however, that, upon the strictest inquiry, no blemish could ever be found to attach to the chamcter of this extraordinary man. All he did w^as done in a spirit of pure piety and bene- volence. The truth of the impressive words with which he concludes his own narrative was never challenged — ^ Whether I have done my duty as a Christian, in em- ploying that talent which God had entrusted me withal, to the good of people distressed and afflicted, or no, judge you and every good man. Thus far I appeal to the world whether I have taken rewards, deluded or deceived any man. AU further I will say is, that I pray I may never APPENDIX. 349 be weary of well-doing, and that I may be found a faithful servant when I come to give up my last account.' "* — Charnbers'' s Journal^ No. 314. Besides Greatrakes, there was De Loutherbourg, the well-known painter: Gassner, a Koman Catholic priest in Swabia : and an English gardener, named Levret, w^ho used to say that so much virtue went out of him that he was more exhausted by touching thirty or forty people than by digging eight roods of ground. — H. G. A. " In almost every canton of Switzerland are found per- sons endowed with the mysterious natural gift of discover- ing, by a peculiar sensation, the existence of subterranean waters, metals, or fossils. I have known many of them, and often put their marvellous talents to the proof. One of these was the Abbot of the Convent of St. Urban, in the Canton of Lucerne, a man of learning and science; and another, a young woman, who excelled all I have ever known. I car- ried her and her companion with me through several dis- tricts entirely unknown to her, but with the geological formation of which, and the position of its salt and sweet * " Mr. Southey, in his ' Omniana,' quotes some curious passages respecting Greatrakes, from a contemporary writer, Henry More. It seems to have been More's opinion that there maybe a sanative and healing contagion, as well as a morbid and venomous. He states that Greatrakes's hand had ' a sort of herbous aromatic scent,' and that he could also cure by his spittle. More was not surprised by the cures of Greatrakes, having, ten years before, seen 'one Coker,' who, 'by a very gentle chafing or rubbing of his hand,' cured diseases, but not so many as Great- rakes, who was successful, he says, in 'cancers, scrofulas, deafness, king's evil, headache, epilepsy, fevers, (though quartan ones,) leprosy, palsy, tympany, lameness, numbness of limbs, stone, convulsions, ptysick, sciatica, ulcers, pains of the body, nay, blind and dumb in some measure, and I know not but he cured the gout' More, at the same time, states, that ' he did not succeed in all his applications, nor were his cures always lasting.' " 350 APPENDIX. waters, I was quite familiar, and I never once found her deceived. The results of the most careful observation have compelled me at length to renounce the obstinate suspicion and incredulity I at first felt on this subject, and have presented me with a new phase of nature, although one still involved in enigmatical obscurity. To detail cir- cumstantially every experiment I made to satisfy myself on the point, would take up too much space at present ; but I think it right to mention some of the causes which have led me occasionally to vary from others in my views of nature and of God." — Life of ZscJiokke, p. 143. La Physique Occulte^ ou Trade de la Baguette Bivinatoire, par M. L. L. de Vallemont^ M.B., ^c. " On the 5th of July, 1692, a dealer in wine and his wife residing at Lyons were murdered in a cellar, for the sake of robbing them of a sum of money kept in a shop hard by, which was at the same time their chamber. All this was executed with such promptitude and secresy that no one had witnessed the crime, and the assassins escaped, " A neighbour, struck with horror at the enormity of the crime, having remembered that he knew a man named Jacques Aymar, a wealthy peasant, who could follow the track of thieves and murderers, induced him to come to Lyons, and introduced him to the king's attorney- general. This peasant assured the functionary that if they would lead him to the place where the murder was committed, in order that he might receive from it a certain influence, he would assuredly trace the steps of the guilty parties, and would point them out wherever they were. He added, that for his purpose he should make use of a rod of wood, such as he was in the habit of using to find springs of APPENDIX. 351 water, metals, and hidden treasure. The man was con- ducted to the cellar where the murders were committed. There he was seized with emotion ; his pulse rose as if he were suffering from a violent fever, and the forked rod which he held in his hands turned rapidly over the two places where the murdered bodies had lain. " Having received the impression, Aymar, guided by his rod, passed through the streets through which the assassins had fled. He entered the court yard of the archbishop's palace. Arriving at the gate of the Khone, w^hich was shut, it being night, he could then proceed no further. The next day he went out of the town by the bridge of the Ehone, and, always guided by the rod, he went to the right along the bank of the river. Three persons, who accompanied him, were witnesses that he sometimes recognised the tracks of three accomplices, and that sometimes he found only two. In this uncertainty he was led by the rod to the house of a gardener, where he was enlightened as to the number of the criminals. For, on his arrival, he main- tained that they had touched a table, and that of three bottles which were in the room, they had touched one, over which the rod visibly rotated. In short, two boys of nine and ten years of age, who, fearing their father's anger, had at fii'st denied the fact, at last acknowledged that three men, whom they described, had entered the house, and had drunk the wine which was contained in the bot- tles indicated by the peasant. As they were assured by the declaration of the children, they did not hesitate to go forward with Aymar, half a league lower than the bridge on the bank of the Rhone. All along the bank for this distance the footsteps of the criminals were traced. Then they must have entered a boat. Aymar followed in an- other on their track as clearly by water as by land ; and his boat was made to go through an arch of the bridge of 853 APPENDIX. Vienne, which is never used, upon which it was concluded that these wretches had no boatman, since they wandered out of their way. ** On the voyage, Aymar went ashore at all the places where the fugitives had landed, went straight to their coverts, and recognised, to the great surprise of the hosts and spectators, the beds on which they had slept, the tables on which they had eaten, and the pots and glasses they had touched. " He an-ived at the camp of Sablon, where he was con- siderably agitated. He believed that in the crowd of soldiers he should find the murderers. Lest the soldiers should ill-treat him, he feared to operate with his rod. He returned to Lyons, whence they made him go back to the camp of Sablon by water, having furnished him with letters of recommendation. The criminals were no longer to be found there. He followed them to the fair of Beau- caire, in Languedoc, and always remarked, in his course, the beds, the tables, the seats, where they had been. " At Beaucaire, the rod conducted him to the gate of a prison, where he was positive one of the wretches would be found. Fourteen of the prisoners were paraded before him, and the rod turned on a man with a humped back, who had been sent to the prison about one hour before for a petty larceny. The peasant did not hesitate to declare his conviction that the hump-backed man was one of the assassins ; but he continued to search for the others, and found that they had gone towards Nismes. No more was done at that time. They transferred the hump-backed man to Lyons. On the journey he asseverated his inno- cence ; but finding that all the hosts, at whose inns he had lodged, recognised him, he avowed that he had been the servant of two men of Provence who had engaged him to join them in this foul deed : that these men had com- APPENDIX. 353 mitted the murder, and had taken the money, giving him but six crowns and a half from their booty of one hundred and thirty crowns. He corroborated the accuracy of the indications of the peasant as to the gardener's house, the camp of the Sablon, the fair of Beaucaire, and the other places through which the three had passed, extending over forty-five French leagues. All these things, of course, excited immense interest. At Lyons, many repetitions of the observations respecting the turning of the rod in the cellar were made in presence of many persons. Monsieur I'Abbe Bignon gives his testimony to the truth of the statement of facts, in a letter inserted by Vallemont in his work. There can be no doubt that such statements require very strong corroboration, and here they apparently obtain it. Yallemont, quoting the authority of the Royal Society of London, in the second part of the history, seventeenth section, one hundred and twenty-fifth page, says, that in all countries where men are governed by laws, the testimony in a matter of life and death, of only two or three wit- nesses, is required : but is it, then, treating an affair of physics equitably, when the concurrence of sixty or a hundred persons is insufficient ? It is difl&cult to define the just boundaries of credulity ; but in all these recitals of histories of events, there is this general consent, that in those who can make use of the rod, there is always an agitation, a fever, or some sensation which indicates a nervous commotion ; and the best evidence of the closest investigation goes to the point that most frequently the rod is of hazel wood. How far these stories tend to the conclusion that organic tests appear to require the re- agencies of organic force is, at present, a matter of specu- lation ; but it is to be hoped, that the effort to attract -serious attention to this class of facts is not uninteresting or unimportant." 354 APPENDIX. Q.— (Page 176.) Mr. Sandby, in supporting his belief that the reputed scripture miracles are matters wholly beyond the powers of nature, and, consequently, that a faith in them need not be shaken by a full recognition of the facts of mesmerism, says, *' Thus was it with astronomy, with chemistry, with geology. The Bible speaks of the rising of the sun, but Copernicus and Galileo were charged with upsetting the Bible, for they proved that the sun was the centre of its system, and, consequently, did not rise to gladden the earth. The theory of another hemisphere was heretical for a season, and Columbus was, in turn, taxed with weakening the validity of scripture. Cuvier, in like man- ner, was treated as the antagonist of Moses ; and Gall w^as accused of leading his followers to a belief in the coarsest materialism. And thus it went on for a" season, then trembled at the truth ; and the truth itself lay hid behind the mists of a partial knowledge and discovery. Soon, however, a brighter state of things came on. Pro- founder researches dispelled the anxiety of the timid, faith and science were not found incompatible." This is a somewhat startling assertion ; and one would be glad to learn what those " profound researches" are which have charmed away the materialism of Gall, and reconciled the facts of geology, and astronomy, and chemistry, to the scripture accounts. Mr. Sandby 's report is, however, sufficient proof of the evil to science resulting from an ignorant belief in supernatural causes, and of interruptions to the eternal rule and laws of nature. Is not the very fact of his writing a book to show that the blessings of mesmerism are the " gift of God," and not of the devil. APPENDIX. 355 sufficient proof of the still existing and inveterate oppo- sition of religious fancies to the facts of nature — and that, " in short," as Bacon says, " you may find all access to any species of philosophy, however pure, intercepted by the ignorance of divines ?" But what is true in the matter is this : that fact always, in time, triumphs over fancy ; and the religious world become reconciled to new incon- sistencies in the faith of their childhood or adoption. When a certain priest was asked how he could reconcile his belief in transubstantiation, he replied, that he had swallowed the apple of Eve in his youth, and had found no difficulty in digesting anything else since. The savage who was told by the missionary that after his death he would have to meet his father in heaven, re- plied — " Meet my father in heaven ! why, we ate him last week." I do not state this in ridicule, but in most solemn sadness. Men must either set up reason in the judgment seat, or be content to receive all things as from the authority of a Pope. Men strain at a gnat and swallow a camel — Let them swallow the camel or reject the whole : for reason only ad- mits authorities, says Bacon, as " counsels to advise, not as dictators to command." The scriptures cannot be recon- ciled with themselves ; much less with nature. It seems to me, the errors of scripture consist in historical error, in scientific error, in moral error. — The accounts are full of false or exaggerated statements by enthusiasts and de- ceivers ; facts became distorted by repetition, and by the colouring of existing superstitions, and men were deceived by words and myths — each of the Idols described by Bacon was in full operation. Supernatural causes were assigned for the commonest facts — and it was thought to be abso- lutely necessary to govei'n the multitude by imposing on them. Even Plato talks of administerins: untruth as a 356 APPENDIX. drug. There has always been a rule of terror : and terrors always produce phantoms before which the poor faculty of reason, developed in ignorance, become prostrate. Eulers encouraged the folly; and the folly became orthodox belief: and it then became the policy, as with Solon and many of the most worthy authorities, not to give the people what was most true and consequently best, but the best they were likely to receive ; for established error is the worst of all tyrants : but to a certain extent of course this policy was wise, and essential in its place in progress. It was supposed, as it is still supposed, that foretelling events was a matter beyond nature. The prophets believed them- selves inspired, as they do now. They dreamed dreams, and saw visions ; and they were not then able to interpret their true nature, or separate the true insight or fore- sight from the false appearances, or recognize the true cause in their own abnormal or peculiar condition. It was so with the greatest minds. It was so with Christ. It was so with Socrates. It was so with Swedenborg. It was so lately with Davis in America : and so it is with a hundred others in our own country, and at this day, and in all parts of the world : but the crow^ning error was to suppose the fundamental principle — the inherent inter-de- termining character — or the " nature of natm-e " as Bacon terms it — to be of the nature of man, who is a result in nature : that the root was the same as the flower. Thus man, looking into the depths of the well for the truth that was at the bottom, was deceived by his own image on the surface. Then there grew up the fictions of abstract "forms'* and of intelligence in nature : and not content with con- sidering mind and motion as phenomena of matter and nonentities, as much so as time and space, they embodied these phenomena, calling them spiiits or souls, and, in reality, came back to matter. The very life and principle of I APPENDIX. 357 matter they could only conceive as matter, and named it spirit or breath of life. The same philosophers would at onetime designate mind as a phenomenon or action of a soul, the body or cause of it, and liken it to music : at another time, thought or the conscious phenomenon itself to be the soul and its own cause. The theories are contradictory and endless. Here is an example of a modern authority, the pious Schlegel, from his Philosophy of Life : " The ex- istence of the brutes is simple, because in them the soul is completely mixed up and merged in the organic body, and is one with it ; on the destruction of the latter it reverts to the elements, or is absorbed in the general soul of nature." And again, " Triple is the nature of man, but fourfold is the human consciousness ; for spirit or mind, like the soul, divides and falls asunder, or rather is split and divided into two powers or halves — the mind, namely, into understand- ing and will, the soul into reason and fancy." Thus com- plexing the question strangely enough, and making his soul and mind separate portions of the conscious phenomenon, just as if in the rainbow we should call violet and blue soul, and green and yellow, mind. Was there ever such con- fusion of ideas ? Spirit or soul — the substance, entity and body of thought, could not explain thought — or be thought, any more than brain is thought. It seems to me that spiritualists and materialists — so called — have fallen, with- out knowing it, into similar views and the same error. Nor have any of the supposed revelations at all cleared the question, or done anything but confuse men the more, Re- tarding the progress of real science and clear notions. Nor can we marvel at such delusion and confusion, when we find even among divines, in this " enlightened age," one asserting a fact to be miraculous, and a divine favour, and another asserting that it is the doings of the devil : whilst a third, without inquiry, refuses evidence of 358 APPENDIX. most ample and unquestionable testimony, and declares, in the conceit of his own wisdom, that such attested facts are mere delusions. Now we have Mr. Sandby remonstrating with the world against the supposition that certain pheno- mena of mesmerism and of somnambulism are miraculous, whilst in his own turn — not recognizing the broad fact, that all belief in supematuralism is but a measure of igno- rance — he rests wholly satisfied with his advance, and ability to give a final judgment, and declare the limit of the possible in nature, and to proclaim the supernatural character, at least, of some of the " mii'acles." But I deny Mr. Sandby's consistency in giving any such judg- ment, even granting the authenticity of the narratives : for the matters referred to are no more seeming impossible to his mind, than are other facts which he recognizes as truths in nature so to other minds. This inconsistency is not from any want of good common sense, but only exhibits the blinding influence of his imbibed opinions and clerical position : nor can my intelligent friend object to this argument against finality or limitation — for it is precisely what he has so ably urged against M'Neile ; and .it is what every discoverer in mesmerism has had to urge against the "human reason" so nicely defined by Bacon, — of churchmen and others. " Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers ;" nor does the history of the world's errors seem to help us much : yet how shallow all our knowledge ! what depth in our ignorance ! How little we know, and there- fore can conceive, of the possible in natm-e, or what is the power of true faith ! or rather of that power which, being developed, induces faith — for faith, of course, like will, is not a power, but only the final result and evidence of power — the evidence of a power or truth within us and within the nature of things. It is the conscious form of the intuitive sense. All mind phenomena are but the result I APPENDIX. 359 and concomitant of power or action, an expression, so to speak — the fleeting form and evidence of existence and of the forces of nature ; but a passage in time, and flowing away never to return, any more than the same beauty or form of the same rose can ever be again. The new spring brings a new birth of similar and beautiful roses out of the old materials. Mind is the last result — like the form of beauty. " Last, the bright consummate flower-spirit's odorous breath," is Milton's beautiful simile. But let us be patient, and wait with reverence upon nature — for it is the doing — the progress rather than any ultimate or full result, that is to be obtained. The world is ^ but in its baby life, and we shall not live to see its manhood, when universal law and a true philosophy shall be recognized, and become the basis of men's actions ; and all the false systems now existing will have passed away. In the mean- time, I would say with Democritus, that " I would prefer the discovery of one of the causes of the works of nature to the diadem of Persia ;" and with Meric Casaubon, that " I meddle not with policy, but nature : nor with evil men so much, as the evil consequences of the ignorance of natm-al causes My business shall be, as by example of all professions in all ages, to show how men have been prone upon some grounds of nature, producing some extraordinary, though not supernatural effects, really, not hypocritically, yet falsely and erroneously ' to deem themselves or their co-religionists inspired :' and my wish is, * to dive into the dark mysteries of nature, for probable confirmation of natural operations falsely deemed super- natural.' " — Treatise on Enthusiasm^ 1655, c. i. p. 4. See Mr. Sandby's Account of Miracles and Mesmerism, Devo- tional testacies, ^c. — H, G. A. 360 APPENDIX. R.— (Page 177.) " Spinoza in this," (his political treatise), " as in his other writings, is more fearless than Hobbes ; and though he sometimes may throw a light veil over his abjuration of moral and religious principle, it is frequently placed in a more prominent view than his English precursor in the same system had deemed it secure to advance. Yet, so slio-ht is often the connection between theoretical tenets and human practice, that Spinoza bore the character of a virtuous and benevolent man. We do not know, indeed, how far he was placed in circumstances to put his fidelity to the test. In this treatise of Politics, especially in the broad assertion that good faith is only to be preserved so long as it is advantageous, he leaves Machiavel and Hobbes at some distance, and may be reckoned the most phlegmatically impudent of the whole school." — Hallam : Literature, vol. iv. p. 362. When Hallam speaks of the light veil which Spinoza and Hobbes, and others used, to conceal their real opinions, and save themselves from the ignorant fury of the religious world, he should remember that they, in sober honesty and the love of truth, took care that the veil was transpa- rent enough to be seen through : while many who have called themselves philosophers have spent their lives in nursing their own reputation by flattering the prejudices of the world ; not caring what becomes of the ship of the state so long as they save themselves in the cockboat of their own fortunes. Thus, many who are in high favour and esteem, are, in truth, but lying hypocrites, walking through life under a mask, put on according to the APPENDIX. 361 fashion of men's prejudices and superstitions in their time. Thus, instead of helping the world on, they only help to obstruct the way. Thus it is with many of our saintly philosophers, — wise in their own generation. What the next will think of them, time will show. — H, G. A. S.— (Page 181.) THE ACAEUS CRCESSII. Letter from, Mr. Crosse to H. Martineau. " Madam, — Your communication of August the 3rd is now before me. I shall endeavom- to reply to your ques- tions in such a manner as they deserve. " Allow me, in the first place, to state, that I have not the slightest objection to your dealing as you please with this answer of mine. You are welcome to publish it, if you think proper ; or thrust it into the fire, where many of those kind commentators on some of my experiments would gladly have thrust me. It is the bounden duty of philosophical men not to reject or admit as fact any asser- tion without close and fair investigation. This would save a world of trouble, and be of the highest importance tq the science concerned. " Ever since I have enjoyed the faculty of thinking, two feelings, apparently somewhat opposed to each other, have been predominant in my mind; — the first exciting within me an ardent wish of knowing more ; and the last causing a conviction, that the utmost extent of human knowledge is but comparative ignorance. "Feeling as I have done, the whole of my life, — it is not likely that I should R 362 APPENDIX. plume myself upon any imaginary successful result of a course of experiments, or that I should presume to lay down a theory upon so mystical, and pei'haps unap- proachable, a subject as the origin of animal life. "As to the appearance of the acari, under long-continued electrical action, I have never, in thought, word or deed, given any one a right to suppose that I considered them as a creation, or even as a formation from inorganic mat- ter. To create, is to form a something out of a nothing. To annihilate, is to reduce that something to a nothing. Both of these, of course, can only be the attributes of the Almighty. In fact, I can assure you, most sacredly, that I have never dreamed of any theory sufficient to ac- count for their appearance. I confess that I was not a little surprised, and am so still, and quite as much as I was, when the acari made their first appearance. Again, I have never claimed any merit as attached to these expe- riments. It was a matter of chance. I w^as looking for siliceous formations, and animal matter appeared instead. The first publication of my original experiment took place entirely without my knowledge. Since that time, and surrounded by death and disease, I have fought my way in the different branches of the science which I so dearly love, and have endeavoured to be somewhat better ac- quainted with a few of its mysteries. Now, suppose that a future son of science were to discover that certain novel arrangements should produce an effect quite contrary to all pre-conceived opinion, would this discovery, however vast it might be, humanly speaking, be such as to stir up iu a mind properly constituted, an inferior sense of the omniscience of the Creator? It is really laughable to anticipate such a result, which could only be engendered in the brains of the enemies of all knowledge. " In a great number of my experiments made by passing a APPENDIX. 363 long-continued current of electricity through various fluids, (and some of them were considered to be destructive to animal life,) acari have made their appearance ; but never excepting on an electrified surface, kept constantly moist- ened; or beneath the surface of an electrified fluid. In some cases, these little animals have been produced two inches below the surface of a poisonous liquid. In one instance, they made their appearance upon the lower part of a small piece of quartz, plunged two inches deep into a glass vessel of fluo-silicic acid, or, in other words, into fluoric acid holding silica in solution. A current of elec- tricity was passed through this fluid for a twelvemonth or more ; and at the end of some months, three of these acari were visible on the piece of quartz which was kept negatively electrified. I have closely examined the pro- gi-ess of these insects. Their first appearance consists in a very minute whitish hemisphere formed upon the sur- face of the electrified body ; — sometimes at the positive end, and sometimes at the negative ; sometimes between the two, or in the middle of the electrical current ; and sometimes upon all. In a few days, this speck enlarges and elongates vertically, and shoots out filaments of a whitish, wavy appearance, and easily seen through a lens of very low power. Then commences the first appearance of animal life. If a fine point be made to approach these filaments, they immediately shrink up and collapse, like zoophytes upon moss : but expand again some time after the removal of the point. Some days afterwards, these filaments become legs and bristles, and a perfect acarus is the result, which finally detaches itself from its birth- place, and, if under a fluid, climbs up the electrified wire, and escapes from the vessel, and afterwards feeds either on the moisture on the outside of the vessel, or on paper, or card, or other substance in its vicinity. If one of them r2 364 APPENDIX. be afterwards thrown into the fluid in which he was produced, he is immediately drowned. They are much annoyed by exposure to light, and require to be kept on a moist surface in a rather warm and dark place. They live for some months, but are destroyed by the first frost. I have noticed their formation in concentrated solutions of nitrate and sulphate of copper, and in various other fluids, but generally in silicate of potash, or other siliceous solu- tions, but never in arsenious solutions. In one experi- ment, (which was conducted with every possible caution,) the following result took place : I took black gun-flints, made them red hot, threw them into water, dried and reduced them to powder. Of this powder I took one ounce, and mixed it wdth three ounces of carbonate of potash — fused the mixture in a crucible for five hours — poured the melted mass, which was a soluble transparent glass, into a heated iron mortar — reduced it to a coarse powder, and, while hot, threw it into boiling distilled water, in which it was speedily and wholly dissolved. "Whilst still hot, I poured it into a glass retort, the bulb of which was half filled with the solution : — this retort had just been w^ashed out with hot alcohol, and was placed in a frame made for the purpose ; and its neck was closely stopped with a glass stopper, ground to fit perfectly air- tight. — The long end of the retort was dipped into a glass basin of fresh distilled mercury; and two wires of pla- tinum, hermetically sealed, passed through the two oppo- site sides of the retort, and were immediately connected with the opposite poles of a weak volcanic battery, in constant action. The electric current acted directly on the solution of silicate of potash, and oxygen and hy- drogen gases were evolved, which passed in a succession of bubbles out of the long end of the retort, and through the mercurv iu the aiass basin. APPENDIX. 365 " The apparatus was deposited on a shelf in a cupboard, in a dark subterranean cellar. Now, observe, first, — that the solution was considerably caustic : — next, that the portion of atmospheric air above the solution, and con- tained in the upper part of the glass retort, was speedily driven out by the evolution of the gases, so that the atmosphere of the retort was a compound of oxygen and hydrogen, and consequently an explosive compound : — thirdly, that all contact with atmospheric air was com- pletely cut off; — yet at the expiration of 140 days, I plainly discovered by the light of a lamp, one fat acarus, actively crawling on the surface of the upper part of the bulb of the retort. A.t first I thought that it miist be on the outside, and I passed my finger over the spot ; bat no, — it was on the inside, and visible for a considerable time. I kept this apparatus in action for upwards of a twelvemonth, but did not detect any other acarus. I think it highly probable that others existed, but that they fell down, and were lost in the solution. The experiment I have not yet published; but it was most accurately made. My friend, Mr. Weekes of Sandwich, has obtained similar results with myself. "As to what the opinion of scientific men may be on this matter, I know not. I have merely described the results T have met with; and I heartily wish that those who possess time and patience would institute a series of ex- periments on this interesting branch of science. Con- flicting opinions have existed, as to whether the acarus developed under the above circumstances be of a new description or not. I know not whether this may be of any consequence, as it is very easy for so minute an animal to have escaped particular observation ; and besides, I have observed a variety amongst the acari so produced: but this I leave to entomologists. I have 366 APPENDIX. never before heard of acnri having been produced under a fluid ; or of their ova throwing out filaments ; nor have I ever observed any ova previous to, or during, electriza- tion, except that the speck which throws out filaments be an ovum : but when a number of these insects, in a per- fect state, congregate, ova are the result. I may now remark, that in several of these experiments, fungi have made their appearance ; and, in some cases, have been followed by the birth of acari. In one instance, a crop of fungi was produced upon the upper end of a stick of oak charcoal, plunged into a solution of silicate of potash, kept negatively electrified for a considerable time ; and covered by a bell glass inverted over it in a glass dish of mercury. The charcoal, before being used, was taken red hot from a fire. There is, evidently, a close connection between animal and vegetable life ; but one thing is necessary to be observed : that such experiments as those I have just touched on must be varied in every possible form, and repeated over and over again, with unflinching perse- verance, and with the most sharp-sighted caution, in order to attain satisfactory results. " In conclusion, I must remark, that in the course of these and other experiments, there is a considerable similitude between the first stages of the birth of acari, and of certain mineral crystallizations electrically pro- duced. In many of them, more especially in the forma- tion of sulphate of lime, or sulphate of strontia, its com- mencement is denoted by a whitish speck, — so it is in the birth of the acarus. This mineral speck enlarges and elongates vertically, — so it does with the acarus. Then the mineral throws out w^hitish filaments, — so does the acarus speck. So far it is difficult to detect the difference between the incipient mineral and the animal ; but as these filaments become more definite in each — in the mineral APPENDIX. 367 they become rigid, shining, transparent, six-sided prisms ; — in the animal, they are soft and waving filaments, and finally endowed with motion and life. " I might add much more to the above sketch, but it would be then more fit for a pamphlet than for a letter. "Andrew Crosse." " However rigid were the conditions in any case adopted, th is much is certain ; that the acari have invariably ap- peared in the several solutions under electrical influences, while their absence has been as invariably remarked, in spite of the nicest scrutiny, in all negative tests, provided to accompany the respective primary experiments." — W, H, Weekes : Letter to the Author of Vestiges of Creation. T.— (Page 203.) Speaking in his noble tract upon education of young men when they quit the University, Hobbes says, " They now, when poverty or youthful years call them impor- tunely their several ways, and hasten them with the sway of friends either to an ambitious and mercenary, or igno- rantly zealous divinity ; some allured to the trade of the law, grounding their purposes not on the prudent and heavenly contemplation of justice and equity which was never taught them, but on the promising and pleasing thoughts of litigious terms, fat contentions, and flowing fees; others betake them to state affairs, with souls so unprincipled in virtue and true generous breeding, that flattery and court shifts, and tyrannous aphorisms, appear 368 APPENDIX. to them the highest points of wisdom. Others, Lastly, of a more delicious and airy spirit, retire themselves, know- ing no better, to the enjoyment of ease and luxury, living out their days in feast and jollity." — Hobbes. " Nature, as it is, hath given us but a few sparks of understanding, which, by our vicious manners and opinions, we so effectually quench, that scarce the least glimpse of the light of nature appears ; for there are in our minds innate principles of virtue, which, if they were suffered to grow, would themselves lead us to a happy life. But now, as soon as ever we come into the world, we are engaged in all manner of depravity and perverseness of opinions, so that we seem, together with our nurse's milk, to have sucked in errors : and, afterwards, when we are brought to our parents, we are delivered over to tutors, from whom we imbibe so many mistaken notions, that truth is found to give way to vanity, and nature herself to yield to opinion." — Cicero, on Grief of Mind. " Government should never found academies, for they serve more to oppress than to encourage genius. The unique method of making the arts and sciences flourish, is to allow every individual to teach what he thiuks at his own risk and peril." — Spinoza. Dr. Arnold taught a doctrine precisely similar to that taught by the reviled and persecuted Spinoza. Compare Arnold's introductory lectures on Modern History : Ap- pendix to first lecture. APPENDIX. 369 U.— (Page 207.) " Authorities, I admit, are of little weight in matters of science, in the face of positive facts : but it is necessary that these facts exist, that they have been subjected to severe examination, that they have been skilfully grouped with a view to extract from them the truth they conceal. He who ventures to treat, cl priori, a fact as absurd, wants prudence. He has not reflected on the numerous errors he would have committed in regard to many modern discoveries. T ask for example if there can be anything in the world more bizarre, more incredible, more inadmis- sible, than the discovery of Dr. Jenner ? Well ! the bizarre, the incredible, the inadmissible, is found to be true ; and the preservative against the small-pox is by unanimous consent to be sought for in the little pustule that appears in the udder of the cow." — Arayo. "And like as the West Indies had never been dis- covered, if the use of the mariner's needle had not been fii'st discovered, though the one be vast regions and the other a small motion ; so it cannot be found strange if sciences be no further discovered, if the art itself of in- vention and discovery hath been passed over." — Bacon : Advancement of Learning. " Whilst men regard the property inherent in matter of being self-sustained, and not dropping into annihilation or dissolution, as an adamantine necessity in nature, they ought to permit no method to escape them of torturing and agitating matter if they would detect and draw to light its ultimate workings and obstinately preserved secrets." — Bacon : Thoughts on the Nature of Things. r5 370 APPENDIX. " But if any require at least particular promises, let him know that by that knowledge which is now in use, men are not skilled enough even for wishing. But what is of less moment, should any of the politicians, whose custom it is from personal calculations to estimate everything, or from examples of like endeavours to form conjecture, presume to interfere his judgment in a matter of this sort, I would have told that ancient saying, ' Claudus in via, cursorem extra viam antevertet' and not to think about examples, since the matter is without example." — Bacon : Interpretation of Nature. " Men see clearly, like owls in the night of their own notions, but in experience, as in day-light, they wink and are but half-sighted." — Bacon : History of Life and Death. " Some impose upon the world that they believe that which they do not ; others, more in number, make them- selves believe that they believe, not being able to penetrate into what it is to believe." — Montaigne. v.— (Page 220.) " Those who frequently contemplate the entire subjec- tion of every part of the animal frame to the laws of che- mistry, and the numerous processes through which all the organs of the human body must pass after death, acquire habits of imagination unfavourable to a hope of an inde- pendent existence of the thinking principle, or of a re- APPENDIX. 371 newed existence of the whole man. These facts have a more certain influence than any reasonings on the habi- tual convictions of men. Hence arises, in part, the preva- lent incredulity of physicians. The doctrine of the resur- rection could scarcely have arisen among a people who buried their dead. " 18th — Sunday. — I went to the funeral sermon. The principal part consisted of some arguments of the immorta- lity of the soul. In the eloquence of Cicero, of Fenelon, and Addison, the reasons in behalf of this venerable and consolatory opinion had appeared strong and sound ; but, in the preacher's statement, they shrunk into a mortifying state of meagreness, and contemplations passed in my mind which I should be almost afraid to communicate to any creature. " 19th. — In the necessary ascending progress of the understanding to divert the infinite perfect-Being of all resemblance to imperfection, he at length approaches a very faint and imperfect personality. I acknowledge, indeed, that the heart has an equally inevitable descending progress ; in which the divinity is more and more indi- vidualised, brought nearer, and made liker to ourselves, that he may be more the object of affection. But to con- fine myself to speculation ; a person, commonly called an Atheist, might certainly feel the most ardent moral enthu- siasm, or the warmest love of perfect virtue ; he, conse- quently, has the feeling, of which devotion is a modifica- tion, or another name. This perfect virtue he must often personify. How small is the difference, in pure specula- tion, between the evanescent individuality to which the reasonings of the philosophical Theist reduce or exalt the divinity, and the temporary mental reality into which the imagination of him who is called an Atheist brightens his personification of virtue ! 372 APPENDK. " Let me apply the same mode of examination to the other elements of religion, the doctrine of a future state. The foundation of that doctrine is the desire that beings, capable of an indefinite progress in virtue and happiness, may accomplish the destiny which seems open to them, and the belief that the interruption of that noble progress by death is only apparent. The fear of hell, or the desire of reward for ourselves, may, like the fear of the gallows, prevent crimes ; but, at most, it can only lead to virtue ; it never can produce it. I leave below me those coarse rude notions of religion which degrade it into a supplement to police and criminal law. All such representations are more practically atheistical, more derogatory from the grandeur of religious sentiment, than any speculative system called Atheism. When the mind is purified from these gross notions, it is evident that the belief of a future state can no longer rest on the merely selfish idea of pre- serving its own individuality. When we make a further progi-ess, it becomes indifferent whether the same indivi- duals who now inhabit the universe, or others who do not yet exist, are to reach that superior degree of vu'tue and happiness of which human nature seems to be capable ; the object of desire is the quantity of virtue and happi- ness — not the identical beings who are to act and enjoy. Even those who distinctly believe in the continued exist- ence of their fellow men, are unable to pursue their opinions through any considerable part of its consequences : the dissimilarity between Socrates at his death, and So- crates in a future state, ten thousand years after death, and ten thousand times wiser and better, is so very great, that to call these two beings by the same name, is rather a consequence of the imperfection of language, than of exact views in philosophy. There is no practical identity. The Socrates of Elysium can feel no interest in recollecting APPENDIX. 373 what befel the Socrates at Athens. He is infinitely more removed from his former state than Newton was in this world from his infancy. " Now the philosopher, who for his doubts is called an Atheist, may desire and believe the future progress of intelligent beings, though he may doubt whether the pro- gress being made by the same individuals be either proved or very important. His feelings will scarcely differ at all, and his opinion very little, from him who is called a Theist. When I speak of a coincidence of feeling, I confine myself to those primary feelings which are the root of the opinion ; for there are derivative feelings which arise out of these differences, rather in modes of thinking than in opinion, of the utmost importance in their operation on human life. That importance aiises from the greater or less difficulty of maintaining the love of perfect virtue, and the desire of future progress, according to two different habits of thought. In this practical point, Theism has a great superiority. The ideas are more definite. They more re- semble the common objects of pursuit ; they more easily enter the imagination and affect the feelings ; and they mingle more naturally, as well as blend more completely, with all the active principles. The other manner of think- ing, which presents qualities, rather than individuals, to the mind, is not adapted to excite any feelings in the immense majority of men. It will produce ardent feelings in very few, and stable sentiments, perhaps, scarcely in any in- dividual educated in the present circumstances of the world. The difference is great, but it is almost entirely practical. Morality is usually said to depend upon religion ; but this is said in that low sense in which outward conduct is considered morality. In that higher sense in which morality denotes sentiment, it is more exactly true to say, that religion depends on morality, and springs from it — 374 APPENDIX. virtue is not the conformity of outward actions to a rule ; nor is religion the fear of punishment or the hope of re- ward. Virtue is the state of a just, prudent, benevolent, firm, and temperate mind. Eeligion is the whole of those sentiments wliich such a mind feels towards an infinitely perfect being. " I am pleased with contemplations which trace piety to so pure and noble a source — which show that good men have not been able to differ so much from each other as they imagined ; that, amidst all the deviations of the un- derstanding, the beneficent necessity of their nature keeps alive the same sacred feelings; and that Turgot and Malesherbes, so full of love for the good and fair, had not apostatised from the true God of Socrates and Jesus." — Life of Mackintosh, ii. 1 2 0—1 2 3 . W.— (Page 237.) " A certain Uueen, in some South Sea Island, I have read in Missionary books, had been converted to Chris- tianity, did not any longer believe in the old gods. She assembled her people, said to them, ' My faithful people, the gods do not dwell in that burning-mountain in the centre of our isle. That is not God, no, that is a common burning-mountain ; mere culinary fire bui-ning under pe- culiar circumstances. See, I will walk before you to that burning-mountain ; will empty my wash-bowl into it, cast my slipper over it, defy it to the uttermost, and stand the consequences !' She walked accordingly, this South Sea heroine, nerved to the sticking-place ; her people follow- ing in pale horror and expectancy : she did her experi- APPENDIX. 375 ment ; — and, I am told, they have truer notions of the gods in that island ever since ! Experiment which it is now very easy to repeat, and very needless. Honour to the brave, who deliver us from phantom-dynasties in South Sea islands, and in North !" — CarlyWs Cromwell, i. 444. X.— (Page 243.) We shall soon be exhibiting our fine fabrics to all the world ; but of the fabric of the mind we know nothing : and, stranger still to say, we don't seem to care to know. We follow our crude notions and blind instincts, like a very worm that crawls, rather than walk erect in true manhood and the light of knowledge. We neglect the true pre- rogative of man, to know himself, and to guide himself by that knowledge. We try to frighten men to good be- haviour, and endeavour to patch up grievances, and the last thing we appeal to is the law and authority of Nature herself. As knowledge advances, step by step, the world falls back upon precedents and parchments, endea- vouring to shut out the light, and ruin the philosophy, and the noblest benefactors of their race have been scoffed at in the streets, and hunted out of their country like poor Windsor, for his gas-lighting ; who, escaping with his life, died in poverty abroad. It will be long, I fear, before there is any efficient and general system of training and education, and men fully recognise the fact that the interest of each is in the advance of the whole ; and that the many are not to be sacrificed for the selfish aggran- dizement of the few. I cannot tell you with what dehght I read the following announcement in the Times^ which 376 APPENDIX. should be printed in gold. " There appears, we rejoice to say, but little doubt that the recent reforms in the military economy have stood the test of experience. So far has discipline been unaffected by the practical abolition of corporal punishment, that it has reached a higher pitch than ever ; and it has been observed, by careful compari- son, that whereas a soldier once Hogged was perpetually exposing himself to a repetition of the penalty, those sub- jected to the operation of less brutahzing discipline are rarely found offending again. The readiness to receive instruction is quite remarkable." After this, I trust the T'mies will cease to advocate, not only that " brutalizing" but devilish custom of capital punishments. I believe my old school, the Charter House, still disgraces itself by a brutal use of the rod. I am sorry to say, that I have ever found clergymen advocate harsh measures — in not sparing the rod — and by upholding capital punishment on the authority of the Scriptures ; and military men declaring the " brutalizing" discipline indispensable in the army. Oh ! how sick I have felt to hear them declare opinions which I knew to be as false as they were brutal. Y.— (Page 247.) "This then, is the office of the real priests of God, whether found on thrones, or in council chambers, in pulpits or professors' chairs, or merely at writing tables ; to render more truly humane the human race around them. Whether for their reward thorns shall grow for them on earth, or palms in heaven, need concern them little. I, at least, no longer felt myself troubled with APPENDIX. 377 thoughts of what might be my ftite after death. I had a living certainty of the providence of God, and that tran- quilized me concerning all the rest. " It was at this time I wrote the ' Yearning after the Invisible/ which expressed the joyful state of my feelings. I often smiled at the strange proofs of the immortality of the soul, which philosophers had discovered, and thought that pure, disinterested virtue would be an impossibility to us, if we possessed any absolutely irrefragible proof, any indubitable certainty on this point. I thought, like Petrous Pomponatus, an independent thinker of the six- teenth century, who, I may say, en passant, w-as one of my old favourites, ' a virtue which should depend on the fear of punishment, or the hope of reward in eternity, could be, at best, but a holy virtue, or, perhaps, only a kind of mercantile speculation.' " — Life of ZscJiokke, p. 134. Z.— (Page 255.) In recording some of those singular instances of per- sons living for weeks and months, and even for years, without food, cases similar to the one I had under my charge, and to that which is now existing near to Bath, and to the still more extraordinary instance of the Fakeer, in India, witnessed by Sir Claude Wade, Dr. Mason Good remarks, in his Book of Nature (Pub. 1820), that " Air or water, or either separately, may contain the rudimental materials of all the rest. We behold metallic stones, and of large magnitude, fall from the air; and we suppose them to be formed there ; we behold plants suspended in 378 APPENDIX. the atmosphere, and still, year after year, thriving and blooming, and diffusing odours : we behold insects appa- rently sustained from the same source : and worms, fishes, and, occasionally, man himself, supported from the one or the other, or from both. These are facts : and as facts alone we must receive them : for we have, at present, no means of reasoning upon them. There are innumerable mysteries in matter, as well as in mind ; and we are not yet acquainted with the nature of those elementary prin- ciples from which every compound proceeds, and to which everything is reducible. We are equally ignorant of their shapes, their weight, or their measure." And again, in reference to certain uncommon states of sleep and trance, both in the cases of man and other animals, he says, " these are extraordinary facts, and may be difficult to be comprehended : but they are facts nevertheless ; and may be proved at any time, by any person." But all things are easily comprehended, when the conditions are ascer- tained ; and Liebig thus gives us " HOPES," " the time will come, although, perhaps, the present generation wiU barely live to see it, when a numerical expression for chemical formulae shall have been obtained for the measurement of all the normal energies of the organism, and of the deviations in the functions of indi- vidual parts, by means of the corresponding deviations in the composition of the matter of which these parts consist, or of the products to which they give rise." — Chemutry and Physics m relation to Physiology and Pathology. APPENDIX. 379 AA.— (Page 280.) THE PREACHING EPIDEMIC OF SWEDEN. By Mary Howitt. " One of the most singular psychological phenomena of the present day has occurred in Sweden ; and as but little, if anything, is known of it by the British public at large, I think it will be interesting to the readers of this Journal to lay before them such information as I have been able to obtain on the subject. "That portion of southern Sweden formerly called Smaland, and which now comprises the provinces of Kal- mar, Wexio, and Jonkopping, though one of the poorest parts of the kingdom, is inhabited by a laborious and contented people. Their lot, which is one of extreme suffering and privation, is rendered endurable to them by their natural simplicity of character and deep religious feeling. About sixty years ago, a very strong religious movement took place among them, which, for political reasons, or otherwise, government thought fit to put a violent stop to, and with great difficulty it was done. Whether there be a predisposition among these simple but earnest people for religious excitement, we cannot tell ; but certain it is, that at the commencement of 1842 the singular phenomenon of which we are about to speak made its appearance among them ; and from its rapid spread, and apparently contagious character, and from the peculiar nature of its manifestations, it was popularly called the Preaching Epidemic. "Dr. J. A. Butsch, Bishop of Skara, in Westgothland, 380 APPENDIX. wrote a long letter on this subject to Dr. C. F. Wingard, Archbishop of Upsala, and Primate of all Sweden, which letter is considered so perfectly authority on the matter, that it is published in an appendix to Archbishop Win- gard's 'Eeview of the Church of Christ,' an excellent little work, which has been translated into English by G. W. Carlson, Chaplain to the Swedish Embassy in London, a gentleman of great erudition and accomplishments. To this letter we shall have frequent occasion to refer. " The reader will naturally ask, as the bishop himself does, what is the Preaching Epidemic ? What it really was, nobody as yet has been able to say. Among the peasantry the most general belief was, that it was an im- mediate Divine miracle, in order to bestow grace on such as were afflicted with the disease ; and as a means of warning and exhortation to those who saw and heard the patients. Among others, somewhat above the class of peasants, many denied altogether the existence of the disease, declaring the whole to be either intentional de- ception in the desire of gain and notoriety ; or else self- delusion, produced partly by an overstrained religious feeling, or by that passion of imitation which is common to the human mind. The bishop himself was of opinion that it was a disease, originally physical, but affecting the mind in a peculiar manner. He arrived at this conclusion by attentively studying the phenomenon itself. At all events, bodily sickness was an ingredient in it, as was proved from the fact that, although every one affected by it, in describing the commencement of their state, men- tioned a spiritual excitement as its original cause, close examination proved that an internal bodily disorder, at- tended by pain, had preceded or accompanied this excite- ment. Besides, there were persons who, against their own will, were affected by the quaking fits, which were one of APPENDIX. 381 its most striking eariy outward symptoms, without any previous religious excitement ; and these, when subjected to medical treatment, soon recovered. *' The bishop must be a bold man, and not afraid of ridicule; for, though writing to an archbishop, he says that though he will not give the disease a name, still he will venture to express an opinion ; which opinion is, that the disease corresponds very much with what he has heard and read respecting the effects of animal magnetism. He says that he carefully studied the eflPect of sulphur and the magnet upon several sick persons, and found the symptoms of the Preaching Epidemic to correspond with the effect of animal magnetism, as given in Kluge's * Vermeil einer Barstellung des AnimaliscJien Magnethmus ah Heilmittel.' In both cases there was an increase of activity of the nervous and muscular system ; and, further, frequent heaviness in the head, heat at the pit of the stomach, prickling sensation in the extremities, convulsions and quakings ; and, finally, the falling, frequently with a deep groan, into a profound fainting fit or trance. In this trance, the patient was in so perfect a state of insensibility to outward impressions, that the loudest noise or sound would not awaken him, nor would he feel a needle thrust deeply into his body. Mostly, however, during this trance, he would hear questions addressed to him, and reply to them ; and, which was extraordinary, invariably in these replies applied to every one the pronoun tJiou. The power of speech, too, in this state, was that of great elo- quence, lively declamation, and the command of much purer language than was usual, or apparently possible, for him in his natural state. The invariable assertions of all the patients, when in this state, were, that they were exceedingly well, and that they had never been so happy before; they declared that the words they spoke were 382 APPENDIX. given to them by some oue else, who spoke by them. Their disposition of mind was pious and cahn ; they seemed pre-disposed for visions and predilections. Like the early Quakers, they had an aversion to certain words and phrases, and testified in their preaching against ' places of amusement, gaming, excess in drinking,' may-pole festivi- ties, gay clothing, and the crooked combs which the peasant women wear in their hair, and which, no doubt, were objects of vanity and display. " There was in some families a greater liability to this strange influence than in others ; it was greater also in children and females than in grown-up people and men ; and amongst men, those of a sanguine choleric tempe- rament are most susceptible. The patients invariably showed a strong desire to be together, and seemed to feel a sort of attraction, or spiritual afiinity, to each other. In places of worship, they would all sit together ; and it was remarked that when a person afflicted with the Preach- ing Epidemic was questioned about the disease in him- self individually, he always gave his answer on behalf of them all, and thus said ' we^ where the inquirer naturally expected '/.' "From these facts the learned bishop infers that the Preaching Epidemic belonged to that class of operations which have been refen-ed to animal magnetism. He says that, whatever may be the cause of this singular agency or influence, no doubt exists of its always producing a re- ligious state of mind, which was strengthened by the apparently miraculous operations from within. He goes then into the question, whether the religious impres- sion produced be in accordance with the established notions of the operations of ' grace on the heart,' and decides this not to be the case, because * the excited person, imme- diately after he begins to quake, experiences an unspeak- APPENDIX. 383 able peace, joy, and blessedness, not on account of new-born faith through atoning grace, but by a certain immediate and miraculous influence from God.' These are the bishop's own words. But with the polemical question we have nothing to do. However, the bishop goes on to say, that, ' whatever the origin of the disease may be, it characterises itself by Christian language, and makes its appearance with many truly Christian thoughts and feelings ;' and that, ' probably, the disease has uni- versaDy met with something Christian, previously im- planted in the heart, to which it has, in an exciting way, allied itself.' " With respect to the conduct and conversation of the patients, during the time of their seizure, he says he never saw anything which was improper, although many strange rumours to the contrary were circulated and believed, to the great disadvantage of the poor people themselves. In the province of Elfsborg, where the disease prevailed to a great extent, bands of cliildren and young people under its influence went about singing what are called Zion's hymns, the effect of which was singularly striking, and even afl"ecting. He says that to give a complete and detailed description of the nature of the disease would be difficult, * because, like animal magnetism,*— we use his own words — * it seems to be infinite in its modification and form.' In the above-mentioned province of Elfsborg, it was often said, * Such and such a person has begun to quake, but he has not as yet dropped down, nor has seen visions, nor has preached.' " This quaking, of which so much is said, appears to have been the first outward sign of the influence; the inward vision and the preaching being its consummation; though when this consummation was reached, the fit mostly commenced by the same sign. Nevertheless, in 384 APPENDIX. some patients the quaking decreased in proportion to the strength which the disease gained. These quakings also seem to have come on at the mention of certain words, the introduction of certain ideas, or the proximity of certain per- sons or things, which in some mysterious manner appeared inimical or unholy to the patient. Sometimes, also, those very words and things which at first affected the patient ceased to do so as he advanced to the higher stages of the disease ; and other words or things, which hitherto had produced no effect, began to agitate bim in the same way. One of the patients explained this circumstance thus — that according as his spiritual being advanced upward, ' he found that there existed in himself, and in the world, many things which were worse than that which previously he had considered as the worst.' In some cases the patients were violently affected by the simple words, ' yes,' and * no ;' the latter word in particular was most painful and repulsive to them, and has frequently been described by them as ' one of the worst demons, tied with the chains of darkness in the deepest abyss.' It was remarked also that they frequently acted as if they had a strong temp- tation to speak falsehood, or to say more than they were ' at liberty to say.' They would therefore exhort each other to speak the truth ; and so frequently answered dubiously, and even said they did not know, when a con- trary answer might have been confidently expected, that an unpleasant impression was frequently produced on the mind of the hearer ; and some persons imbibed from this very circumstance unfavourable ideas of their truthfulness ; when, in fact, this very caution and hesitation was a peculiarity of the disease. " In the province of Skaraborg, the bishop says he has seen several persons fall at once into the trance, without any preparatory symptom. In the province of Elfsborg, APPENDIX. 385 the patients preached with their eyes open, and standing ; whilst in his own province of Skaraborg, he himself saw and heard them preaching in a recumbent posture, and with closed eyes, and altogether, as far as he could dis- cover, in a state of perfect insensibility to outward impres- sions. He gives an account of three preaching-girls in the parish of Warnham, of ages varying from eight to twelve. This account, but principally as relates to one of them, we will lay before the reader. " It was shortly before the Christmas of 1842, when he went, together with a respectable farmer of the neighbour- hood, the Rev. Mr. Linqvist, and the Eev. Mr. Smed- mark, to the cottage where a child lived, who, by all ac- counts, had advanced to the highest stage of the disease. Many persons, besides himself and his friends, were pre- sent. As regards all the three children, he says that, for their age, as is generally the case in Sweden, they were tolerably well-informed on religious matters, and could read well. They were naturally of good disposition, and now, since they had been subject to the disease, were re- markable for their gentleness and quiet demeanour. Their manners were simple, as those of peasant children ; but, being bashful and timid, were not inclined to give much description of their feelings and experience ; still, from the few words they spoke, it was evident that, like the rest of the peasantry and their own relatives, they considered it a divine influence, but still asserted that they knew not exactly what to think either of themselves or their situations. When in the trance, they declared that they were exceedingly well ; that they never had been so cheerful, or felt so much pleasure, before. On being awoke, however, they complained, sometimes even with tears, of weakness in the limbs, pain in the chest, head- ache, &c. s 386 APPENDIX. "In the particular case of the one child to which we have referred, the symptoms were precisely the same: there came on, in the first place, a violent trembling or quaking of the limbs, and she fell backwards with so much vio- lence as to give the spectator a most painful sensation — but no apparent injury ensued. The patient was now in the trance, or state of total unconsciousness, and this trance, which lasted several hours, divided itself into two stages, acts, or scenes, totally different in character. In the first place, she rose up violently, and all her actions were of a rapid and violent character. She caught at the hands of the people round her ; some she instantly flung aside, as if the effect produced by them was repugnant to her ; others she held gently, patted, and rubbed softly : and these the people called ' good hands.' Sometimes she made signs, as if she were pouring out something, which she appeared to drink ; and it was said by her father and another man present, that she could detect any one in the company who had been dram-drinking ; and she would in this w^ay represent every glass he had taken. She went through — for what purpose it seems impossible to say— the operation of loading, presenting, and firing a gun, and performed most dramatically a pugilistic combat, in which she alone sustained and represented the action of both parties ; she likewise acted the part of a person dressing ; and what rendered all this most extraordinary was, that, though she was but a simple, bashful peasant child, clad in her peasant's dress — a sheep-skin jacket — yet all her ac- tions and movements were free, and full of the most dramatic effect : powerful and vigorous when representing manly action, and so indescribably graceful, and easy, and full of sentiment, when personating female occupations, as to amaze the more cultivated spectators; and, as the bishop says, to be ' far more like the motions of an image in a ( APPENDIX. 387 dream than a creature of flesh and blood.' Another cir- cumstance is peculiar : although these children differed from each other in their natural state, yet, while under the influence of the disease, their countenances became so similar as greatly to resemble each other. "To return now to the child who had advanced into the second stage of the trance ; this was characterised by a beautiful calmness and quietness of demeanour and coun- tenance ; and with her arms folded meekly on her breast, she began to preach. Her manner in speaking was that of the purest oratory ; her tones were earnest and solemn, and the language of that high spiiitual character which, when awake, it would have been impossible for her to use. " The little discourse ran somew^hat as follows, for the bishop noted it dowm on his return home : — " * My friends, let us turn fi-om the evil of our ways ; let us, my friends ! The Saviour \\ashes it. Think how pleasant it would be to come to him ; and if we woidd we might. He does not desire that any one should perish : from the lowest depths of hell all may be saved, and come to Him. How pleasant it will be to come to Him ; to receive our wedding garments, and sit down with Him. Oh, how pleasant that will be ! " ' But if we will not turn to Him, we commit a great sin, and grieve him. Think, if he meet us with angry looks ; think, if he bid us go to the left side ! to the place of darkness, where we are separated from him ! Knock gently, knock gently, my friends, and he will certainly open to you. " * Then let us now, my dear friends, raise a sigh — a good sigh — which shall penetrate through the clouds to the Saviour ! Let us go in the narrow way ; let us go in the thorny path ! Will you not go there ? Then I will go there by myself alone ; but go you also, and do not think s 2 388 APPENDIX. that it is painful ! It is not painful, if we only go to the Saviour ! And though I am young, and my words are those of a child, yet you must believe them. Although they are the words of a child, they are meant for your well-being ! 'For God's sake, believe them, dear friends !* " Such were some of the words of the child, who, in this extraordinary state, had something saint-like in her appear- ance. Her utterance was soft and clear ; not a word was retracted or repeated ; and her voice, which in her waking state had a peculiar hoarseness, had now a wonderful brilliancy and clearness of tone, which produced great effect. The whole assembly observed the deepest silence, and many wept. " These children, during all the time they were subject to tliis influence, had, as the parents stated, tolerably good appetites, although they were particular as to the food they ate, taking, by preference, milk and fruit, especially dried apples and chen'ies, of which it was necessary for the parents to keep a good stock. " The bishop teUs us that these children were cured by medicines which he himself procm-ed for them. The dis- ease, according to his account, was frequently cured thus, though generally in its earlier stages. He does not any where state that death was the consequence of it ; though he says that the patient sometimes foretold his own death. He tells us that many of the 'quaking people' were taken to the hospitals, and on their arrival there were found to be free from any symptom of the disease what- ever ; but scarcely had they returned home, when it again appeared in its full force. Many individuals also, by means of a firm wiU and a faithful endeavour to counter- act it, succeeded in doing so. Others, on the contrary, from their belief of the disease being of a divine character, became predisposed for the contagion, both bodily and APPENDIX. 389 mentally; and thus, being attacked, helped to make it worse by their own superstition and submission to it. " He concludes by saying, that as the phenomenon in question lay out of the sphere of human knowledge and experience, its extraordinary and miraculous character struck the mind with awe, which produced a veiy general religious movement among the perfectly healthy portion of the community. The consequence of this has been to send multitudes of persons to the churches and meeting-houses, who otherwise would never have gone there ; and in many instances it has effected the most vital change in life and sentiments. Many a one has thus become a diligent reader of the Scriptures, and has been weaned from drunkenness and other vices ; and showy dresses, crooked combs, dancing, and the much abhorred May-pole meni- ment, in many parts, have fallen into disuse. The bishop himself saw by the roadside a May-pole which had been cut down from this cause ; and he also knew a poor man who gained his livelihood by fiddling, who burned his violin, that it might not be a cause of sin to himself or others. How Kke is this to many a passage in the books of the early Quakers ! " In the province of Skaraborg alone, where the disease did not prevail so generally as in other parts, the num- ber of persons affected by it amounted, in 1843, to from two to three thousand ; and in this province many healthy people, particularly boys, gave themselves out as belonging to this class, and rambled from place to place, making reKgious harangues, and thus gaining a good livelihood. These impostors were often mistaken for the preaching- diseased, and through their means honest afflicted persons were brought into discredit, and often made to suffer. "As in the case of the Bishop of Skara, the clergy, throughout the districts where the disease prevailed, used 390 APPENDIX. all the means in their power to put a stop to it, but in vain; the governors of the pro\dnces then interfered. Medical men were sent out ; many of the patients placed in hospitals, and others were attended at home ; and by the end of 1843, the disease had almost ceased to exist. Nothing of the kind seems to prevail at present : but as I am informed by a Swedish clergyman, the good effect pro- duced by it on the minds of many an otherwise hardened sinner, remains to testify of its truth and reality, although no one, whether learned in the science of phvsical or spiritual life, can yet explain the cause and natm-e of this extraordinaiy mental phenomenon." — HowiWs Journal, A dancing mania extended throughout the whole of Germany in 1374. The "sufferers" neither saw nor heard, being insensible to external impressions through the senses, but were haunted by visions, their fancies con- juring up spirits, whose names they shrieked out ; and some of them afterwards asserted that they felt as if they had been immersed in a stream of blood, which obliged them to leap so high : others, dming the paroxysm, saw the heavens open and the Saviour enthroned with the Virgin Mary, according as the religious notions of the age were strangely and variously reflected in their imagina- tions, ^x*^"'^ -"■""**•»*»*». UNIVEESITY Printed by Richard Kinder, «reen Arbour Court, Old Bailey, Londou. 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 7 mrmt wmi DUR(N6 Wo SESSIONS MAY 6 m\ **'^^'^i'fON-PSyCHoiOG mMT Jei'SUM AY !3R£CJ Q P l \ «« 95t ie'b/-4PM APR 25 Ki^Uu -1 ^^ / / MTFR! i BRA RY LOAN m l7tD67 tAt^ ^M^ iUoaa N!V. OF CAUF., BERK. ^ _ ^ ^ -^^ ^ •" u: or tm ^ 4 1991 QQ -- o i^ LD 21-50m-8,'57 (.C8481sl0)476 General LiSfary University of California Berkeley