114 



♦ KNOWLEDGE ♦ 



[Feb. G, 1885. 



jnircly spontaneous, is always guided by an intellectual notion, 

 which is expressly before the consciousness, and whose influence 

 guides, and as it were shines through, the work performed from 

 its commencement till its completion. The notion of a bottle of a 

 certain shape and size directs the movements of the glass-blower 

 manufacturing it. But in the case of instinctive actions, on the 

 other hand, the presence and influence of this intellectual elemeut 

 are not so prominent. In every animal movement, however, there 

 must be a guide or pilot, else its course would be erratic and 

 eccentric. 



The grand question, therefore, is, from what faculty or how does 

 this intellectu.al element in instinctive action proceed ? Two 

 answers may here be given — two solutions are possible. One 

 school of thinkers opine that there is some sort of mystery in the 

 matter; that, while instinctive actions come from a dictating 

 energy operating above the sphere of consciousness (i.e., epicto- 

 motor), the intellectual process involved therein is performed for, 

 not by, the animal, and proceeds from an overruling mind or pur- 

 pose outside itself. Another school of psychological zoologists 

 maintain that instinctive actions ai'e really organic. The nerve- 

 ganglia (they say) can retain traces or relics of impressions 

 brought to them by the nerve fibres, and they also delay the 

 impression, so that it inter-acts with other impressions. In this 

 way the nervous system can modify the impressions, and convert 

 them into different results, thus producing those actions wo call 

 instinctive. The nervous mechanism thus forms itself according to 

 the mode in which it is habitually exercised ; and intellectual fox'ces 

 or tendencies to action become, as it were, embodied in the nerve- 

 ganglia or cells. From this point of view, the nervous system (in 

 combination with the mu.scles) may be regarded as a highly sensi- 

 tive and plastic organ of practical energy, which, through long 

 usage and custom, is constrained to move in a certain fixed, unvary- 

 ing groove or channel. And if it be maintained that instinctive 

 actions are inherited exijcrience, it may be observed, in reply, that 

 the design ov fixed intentioii which they exhibit has originated 

 from a low form of mechanical talent, and not from any of the 

 loftier powers of mind which imply thought, ratiocination, and ideal 

 generalisation. P. Q. KEG.ix. 



[Dr. Kegan appears to ignore the fact that many actions, either 

 having their origin in volition or in a slow and painful education, 

 ultimately become what we call " iustinetive." Walking is a 

 familiar one. Note the struggles and falls incident on the incipient 

 attempts of a child to balance itself when first set on its feet, and 

 compare it with the absolutely automatic progression of the grown 

 man. I can, and do continually, walk along an indifferently-made 

 road, reading every foot of the way, without even stumbling; and 

 soldiers have been repeatedly known to sleep on the march. Nor 

 does our correspondent seem to attach sufficient weight to inherited 

 memory as a source of what is called instinct. — Ed.] 



OUR TWO BRAINS. 



[1570] — Mr. Jos. W. AIex,auder's account of an accident to a boy 

 whilst playing cricket on Brighton Downs, reminds me of a similar 

 experience on the football held some years ago. 



Play had proceeded for about ten minutes, when an opponenl; 

 charged me at full speed, as, in the act of kicking the ball, I was 

 standing on one leg. I was thrown heavily, the back part of my 

 head and neck first touching the ground. 



Although I played the whole afternoon so that no one knew 

 anything was the matter, and played with evidently no loss of 

 energy or skill, as my services received special mention on the 

 occasion, I have no recollection whatever of anything that occurred 

 between receiving the fall and coming-to ag.ain a few minutes 

 before the call of time. 



In those days it was customary to change ends at every goal, as 

 well as at half-time. 



When I began to recover I was running at full speed with the 

 ball, and my first sensation was one of dismay to find myself un- 

 accountably running in what appeared to me to be the wrong 

 direction. In my confusion I left the ball and ran aimlessly about 

 for a second or two as though striving to go in both directions at 

 once. 



At first I could not remember where I was, or what club we 

 were playing, and had to ask for information from one of the 

 players. After receiving the answer I remembered everything up 

 to getting the fall. I then asked whether, as we were playing from 

 the o}iposite end, we had gained or lost a goal, and obtained the 

 information that it only wanted a minute or two to time, and that 

 no goal had been obtained by either side during the afternoon, the 

 reason we were playing in the opposite direction being simply owing 

 to the change at half-time. 



Thus was passed some seventy or eighty minutes in movement of 

 the most active and varied as well as arduous kind, and although 



unconscious all the time no one was able to recognise the fact, or 

 ever would have known it, had I not been obliged to ask for infor- 

 mation. C, 



MIND AND BODY. 



[1580] — " An Earnest Thinker," in letter 1,574, enters widely on 

 the field of theology, which I do not, in accordance with your rule, 

 wish to enter. I merely with to correct his statement of what I 

 wrote, viz. : given an " almighty will," free will cannot logically 

 exist; a will that is "free" caunot bo under control of another 

 will; a will that is "almighty" caunot be limited by "a will that 

 is free." 



So must " providence " exclude " accident." Where there is a 

 providence providing for everything, accirlents cannot occur, for 

 the very meaning of accident is something that happens by chance, 

 i.t'., is not provided for. Ifeel almost athamed to jjut such obvious 

 truisms before your readers. 



Sir. Jos. W. Alexander, letter 1575, says, referring to a previous 

 letter of mine, " that consciousness is not a function of the brain — 

 no more than the image in a looking-glass is a function of the 

 object reflected." This is no comparison at all. If " J. W. A." 

 will draw a comparison between brain and a looking-glass, it should 

 read thus : — Functions of the brain : volition, consciousness. 

 Functions (or, as I would prefer to say, properties) of the looking- 

 glass : reflection, smoothness. If the brain is injured or inactive 

 volition and consciousness are affected or cease, if a looking-glass 

 is broken or the quicksilver removed, the reflection becomes imper- 

 fect or ceases ; if roughed, the smoothness is gone. " J. \V. A.'s " 

 queries I will answer when he tells me what his " soul does when 

 unconscious," or what it can do without eyes to see, ears to hear, 

 nose to smell, tongue to taste, nerves to feel, and brain to think ! 



P. W. H. 



THE BEGINNING OF THE MIND AND THE END OF 

 THE MATTER. 



[1581] — Many years ago, a Cambridge graduate wrote to me, 

 asking why I thought it necessary to have a soul in order to think, 

 when I did not consider it necessary to have a soul to enable my 

 liver to produce bile. I replied that I was so ignorant as to the 

 connection of mind and matter that T could not say whether my 

 liver could produce bile without the aid of my soul ; but, for argu- 

 ment's sake, I would grant that the liver did produce bile without 

 any tuch aid ; but 1 said, at any rate, you must allow that the 

 proper fuucliun of a healthy liver is to produce healthy bile, and 

 the proper function of a health}' brain is to produce healthy 

 thought. Wliat, then, concerns us is to discover what is healthy 

 thought. I maintained that healthy thought was the thought of 

 the wisest and best of men throughout all past time, and that the 

 conception of a God, of a soul, and of a future life was the result 

 of such healthy thought, and, therefore, properly represented the 

 actuality of such a Being, of such a soul, and of such a future 

 sta:e. 1 might have gone further. With the exception of one or 

 two very savage tribes, such thoughts have been the outcome of 

 the brain of every race of man. 



The almost universal belief in a Supreme Being, in a soul, and in 

 a future state is, I think, the strongest evidence upon which to 

 build up our belief on those subjects. Again, we cannot increase 

 or decrease matter. We but change its form ; but surely thought, 

 the product of brain, being greater than matter, cannot be dis- 

 sipated. May we not alter Shakespeare's lines thus: — 

 " We arc not stuff as dreams are made on. 

 And our little life's not rounded with a sleep." 



Many j'cars ago, I was disturbed by a remark made by Mr. D. 

 Stewart in his "Outlines of Moral Philosophy." He there states that 

 the decay of the mental faculties before the decay of the body is 

 the strongest argument against the immortality of the soul. I was 

 perplexed ; but my perplexity was removed by hearing a lady 

 playing on n piano. 'There, I said, is the whole subject explained. 

 My body is represented by the wooden part of the instrument. The 

 chords represent my mental faculties ; the musician my soul. Let 

 the chords be in tune, and the musician can produce haruionj'. If 

 out of tunc or broken, though her skill is the same, she is unable to 

 " discourse sweet music." It is true that while the instrument is 

 being tuned, or undergoing repair, the musician is conscious of all 

 that is going on. 



This is not the case with the soul, the spirit, the mind, or by 

 whatever term you may designate the intelligence within us. When 

 the mental faculties are injured by a blow, or suspended, as in the 

 case of partial drowning, the soul is unconscious of what takes 

 place during such injury or suspension ; but when the soul resumes 

 its activity there is the phenomenon of the continuity of existence. 

 It is the same " Ego." The past is, with the exception of the 



