THE PSYCHOLOGY OF BELIEF. 747 



high potential and low amperage charge of the air to a current 

 of less potential and greater amperage. This can be put to work 

 and the long-delayed realization of Franklin's plan of harnessing 

 the electricity of the air be consummated. It may not be a profit- 

 able investment from the commercial standpoint, but no one 

 can say what this tapping of the aerial reservoir may lead to. 

 Determining the nature and origin of the aurora will be as great 

 a scientific achievement as utilizing the energy of Niagara Falls. 



THE PSYCHOLOGY OF BELIEF. 



BY W. B. PARKER. 



IN considering the psychology of belief we find ourselves face 

 to face at the very outset with the questions : (1) What is the 

 nature of belief ? (2) What are the conditions under which it 

 arises ? and (3) What are the causes for its appearance ? In try- 

 ing to answer these questions we have to say frankly, before cross- 

 ing the threshold of the topic : We have no key to secret cham- 

 bers ; we propose no revelations, but only another look over what 

 may be very familiar premises. 



To the question, What is the nature of belief ? many answers 

 have been given. Hume declared, "Belief is nothing but a 

 more vivid, lively, forcible, firm, steady conception of an object 

 than the imagination alone is ever able to attain." Prof. Bain 

 said, " Belief in its essential character is a phase of our active 

 nature." The answer we shall give to the question shall not 

 necessarily conflict with either of the answers given above. It is 

 best given by defining our point of view. 



We look at man as a physical organism of rare sensitiveness, 

 played upon by the forces of the world. Light and sound, the 

 blowing wind and the solid ground, all make their varying sorts 

 of contact with the delicate, susceptible organism. But not all of 

 the myriad voices are heeded, not all the thousandfold seduc- 

 tions entice, not all the sweet odors or the pleasant touches of the 

 great world call forth response. In fact, this human organism is 

 not unlike that lowlier organism, the sponge, through whose length 

 and breadth streams from the great ocean flow. There is no cur- 

 rent in the Atlantic, no distant sea, however narrow, but may 

 send its contribution of richly laden sea water to the sponge's 

 mouth. But not all the nitrogen, carbon, iron, that the tide bears 

 is taken up by the sponge. It extracts only what it needs, what 

 it can assimilate, and to most that passes remains, perhaps, insen- 

 sible. So with our more complex organism man. He, too, is 

 set in the midst of oceans of sensation. Sounds, sights, odors, 



