DISEASE OF THE BODY A MENTAL STIMULANT. n 



of some stories bearing on spiritualism, they come from persons who 

 can hardly be trusted even according to their own account of them- 

 selves. Mr. Butterworth's relation described a mental condition which, 

 even if quite correctly pictured as she understood it, may yet be ex- 

 plained without believing that any very marvelous increase had taken 

 place in her mental powers. Among the vivid impressions which she 

 constantly had of what might be happening to her children away from 

 home, it would have been strange if some had not been correct. The 

 power of anticipating what others were about to say is one which many 

 imagine they have, mistaking the occasional coincidence between their 

 guesses and what has been next said for indications of a power which 

 in reality they do not possess. And so also with regard to the motives 

 of others. Many are apt, especially when out of health, to guess at 

 others' motives, sometimes rightly, but oftener very wrongly, yet al- 

 ways rightly in their own belief, no matter what evidence may presently 

 appear to the contrary. 



The case cited by Mr. Butterworth aifords evidence rather of the 

 unhealthy condition of the patient's mind than of abnormal powers, 

 except as regards the power of thinking of two things at the same time, 

 which we may fairly assume was not ordinarily possessed by his rela- 

 tives. It is rather difficult to define such a power, however. Several 

 persons have apparently possessed the power, showing it by doing two 

 things at the same time which both appear to require thought, and 

 even close attention. Julius Caesar, for example, could write on one 

 subject and dictate on another simultaneously. But, in reality, even in 

 cases such as these, the mind does not think of two things at once. It 

 simply takes them in turn, doing enough with each, in a short time, a 

 mere instant, perhaps, to give work to the pen or to the voice, as the 

 case may be, for a longer time. When Cassar was writing a sentence, 

 he was not necessarily thinking of what he was writing. He had done 

 the thinking part of the work before ; and was free, while continuing 

 the mere mechanical process of writing, to think of matter for dictation 

 to his secretary. So also while he was speaking, he was free to think 

 of matter for writing. If, indeed, the thought for each sentence of 

 either kind had occupied an appreciable time, there would have been 

 interruptions of his writing, if not of his dictation (dictation is not 

 commonly a continuous process under any circumstances, even when 

 shorthand writers take down the words). But a practiced writer or 

 speaker can in a moment form a sentence which shall occupy a minute 

 in writing and several seconds in speaking. 



The present writer, who certainly does not claim the power of think- 

 ing of two things at once (nay, believes that no one ever had or could ' 

 have such a power), finds it perfectly easy, when lecturing, to arrange 

 the plan for the next ten minutes' exposition of a scientific subject, and 

 to adopt the words themselves for the next twenty seconds or so, while 

 continuing to speak without the least interruption. He has also worked 



