But, I shall be asked, is there any evidence for such a theory? There is much evidence, there are many facts, which I have adduced in full elsewhere.[16] This is not the place to discuss the physiological intricacies involved, and I can only refer those interested to the work in question. At present, I shall assume its accuracy—or at least its validity—and proceed to show in few words why it is that this theory is not contrary to any known facts, but is capable of explaining them just as fully as the generally accepted theory, and other (disputed) facts far more readily.

The facts upon which the current theory is founded are well known, and, apparently, thoroughly established. Briefly, they are these: So much food, oxidised or burned outside the body, can be shown to yield so much heat and energy. The same foods, oxidised within the body, yield approximately the same amount of energy. Further, the energy which the body expends (in conscious and unconscious muscular activity, thought, emotion, and as heat, etc.) is, it is contended, practically equivalent to the energy which is thus supplied. There is, therefore, an equivalence, a balance, between income and outgo of energy: so that the recently conducted experiments in calorimetry are held to prove beyond question the causation of vital energy by food.

I shall not in this place stop to question the accuracy of the figures obtained—to point out that the results do not always tally; that far too little allowance has been made for mental and emotional states, etc. I shall assume that the figures are accurate and prove all that they are held to prove. The question then arises: Do the figures prove the causation of vital energy by food? Apparently they do, no doubt, and they are held to do so by the majority of experimental physiologists; but I do not believe that this is at all the case. Admitting the facts, admitting far greater accuracy than the figures really show, we have to consider the question of their interpretation. And this brings us back to the remarks made at the beginning of this paper—that coincidence does not prove causation; and that the same set of facts may often be interpreted in an entirely different manner—one which would show that life is not directly dependent upon food combustion at all, as is generally supposed. The alternative method of interpreting the facts would be as follows:

Life is a power which acts upon organized matter, under certain conditions, in a variable and fluctuating manner. Whenever energy acts upon substance, substance wastes. Whenever work of any kind is done by the body, therefore, the tissues are broken down, and to supply this waste, this destruction, food material is needed. The more waste, the greater the need for repair, and per contra the less waste, the less the need of repair. So far as the material equivalent (food) is concerned, therefore, it will be seen that this is only what we should expect on either theory; and tells no more in favour of one than the other.

But what of the energy? The greater the expenditure of energy, the more work done, the more tissue destroyed. The more tissue destroyed, the more food needed, and the more ingested. But this does not prove that the extra amount of food has created the extra energy! That would be putting the cart before the horse with a vengeance! And yet this is what is universally done by physiologists in considering these experiments! Perhaps I cannot do better than to quote, just here, a portion of the excellent Introduction which Dr. A. Rabagliati, F.R.C.S., F.F.C.P., etc., wrote to my book, and which really states the case more clearly than I stated it myself. He says in part:

"To take an analogy: It seems to me it would be as pertinent to argue that because the strings of a violin or harp waste in proportion to the quantity of music evolved through or by means of them, therefore the waste of the strings is the cause of the music, while in fact it is the hand of the player, and even the spirit behind the hand, which is the real and efficient cause of the music. So the form of the infinite and universal energy, which we may call erg-dynamic, is the cause of the waste of the body through which it works; and this is at once made good by the increased trophic metabolism which occurs, to replace the waste—this increased trophic metabolism showing itself in increased O2 intake and coincidently or correspondingly with increased CO2 output. If the strings of a musical instrument were self-repairing, we might perhaps be induced to think that the material which fed the strings was the cause of the music, since in that case some measure of the waste would probably be discoverable in the debris emitted; and we might imagine that the debris was the measure of the music, while what it really was, was the measure of the waste of the strings, when they were made the instrument of the music. If a spade is used in digging, the spade wastes in proportion to every spadeful of earth it is made to lift. The more it digs, the more it wastes. If we could arrange that a stream of fine steel particles flowed into the spade, to replace the waste caused by each act of digging, we might perhaps come to think that these fine steel particles were the cause of the digging, especially as the quantity of them required would always be exactly proportioned to the amount of work done. Nevertheless, this would be a very inconsequent assumption. Yet this is the assumption invariably made by modern scientists."

It will thus be seen that another interpretation might easily be placed upon the observed facts, and that, while the latter are accepted without question, it is yet possible to conceive the relationship as quite other than usually imagined; and consequently of life as an energy independent of the food supply,[17] and outside the law of conservation—a force absolutely distinct, separate, per se. M. Bergson has gone so far as to speak of life as a "power," as a "vital impetus"—utilizing matter for the purposes of its manifestation, etc. I have merely extended this conception in what appears to me a logical and necessary direction. It appears to me certain that life is a sentient power—different from any other mode of energy of which we have any knowledge, and as such no longer subject to the objections raised earlier in this paper (to other conceptions of life), which might also be advanced, it seems to me, against M. Bergson's theory. Were the theory of life here defended true, it would not only enable us to account for life in a satisfactory manner, but it would render clear many obscure and sporadic phenomena which the current theories are quite incapable of explaining (and hence often ignore!); and it would also practically assure us continuity of life beyond the grave—after the dissolution of the body—because mind and consciousness are shown to be independent of physical energy, even in this life! This, however, is a subject which requires special and lengthy treatment, and I cannot touch upon it now. All that I can aim to do at present is to show that there may be a spiritual source even for our physical life and energy here. And, were this true, psychic phenomena might readily be accounted for—since there would no longer remain any valid objection to their occurrence.

FOOTNOTES:

[13] The orthodox, scientific theory.

[14] See Mind Energy, chapters 1 and 2. This view has also been adopted by Mr. W. Whately Smith (see his Theory of the Mechanism of Survival) where he says (p. 114): "This latter (the transmissive theory) is the view held by M. Bergson, by Mr. Carrington and by myself."

[15] It might be contended that life is an intelligent force—both a physical energy and intelligence; but if that were the case we should simply have energy plus something, and the "plus something" would constitute the whole mystery. We should be no better off than we were before. All the energies known to us are certainly non-intelligent, and if you superimpose anything else on the energy you at once differentiate it from all other energies—which you are not entitled to do (see below).

[16] See my Vitality, Fasting and Nutrition, pp. 225-350.

[17] The question has been asked, What becomes of the potential energy contained in the food, if it is not converted into bodily energy? I reply, it is given off or imparted to the body as heat (not energy), but this heat is again given off by the body. The more imparted to the body, the more is again given off. We know that the body possesses a self-regulating apparatus which keeps the body, when alive, always at a constant temperature. (When dead, of course, the "corpse" cools to the temperature of the surrounding air.) The equivalence is again maintained, it will be observed, because the more heat we impart to the body the more it in turn gives off.



CHAPTER IV

THE HUMAN WILL IS A PHYSICAL ENERGY

AN INSTRUMENT WHICH PROVES IT

PART I

The Facts

That the human will is a definite physical energy, which can be registered by means of a scale or balance, may appear so incredible that the bare statement of the case would seem to carry with it its own refutation! Yet I firmly believe that this is a fact; that the energy of the will may be registered by means of an instrument I am about to describe; and that any one can prove this,—any one, i.e., who cares to take the time to repeat these experiments, and to try a sufficient number of subjects until the right ones be found—who are capable of affecting the balance in the manner described.

Such a fact—if fact it be—is of the utmost importance to science and to philosophy; even more important and more far-reaching in its implications than may at first sight appear. Not only is the fact itself of extraordinary interest, but the very origin and structure of our universe is called into question—and shown to be capable of an interpretation very different from that usually offered by modern science. And, further, if it be true that the human will is a physical energy, we have here the discovery of a new force—a force just as new to science as magnetism or electricity—and vastly more interesting, since it is intimately associated with all of us, and subject to our direction, guidance, and command—a force for us to wield and manipulate—for weal or woe!

It may be thought, by some, that this is no new discovery; that the human will is a physical energy is a fact of common observation; and that we all feel the liberation of this energy whenever an act of volition is performed. I may reply at once to such critics that (common sense as it may appear) this is not at all the attitude of modern psychology; and that, by savants the will is not considered an energy at all, but rather a choice of actions or an effort of attention. It is a state of consciousness merely, possessing intrinsically no more energy than any other state of the kind. This may, perhaps, be made clear by the following brief quotation from James' Psychology:

"We can now see that attention with effort is all that any case of volition implies. The essential achievement of the will, in short, when it is most "voluntary" is to attend to a difficult object and hold it fast before the mind. The so doing is the fiat; and it is a mere physiological incident that when the object is thus attended to, immediate motor consequences should ensue. Effort of attention is thus the immediate phenomenon of will." (p. 450.)

This, then, is the attitude of psychology. It contends that the will is by no means an energy, in the sense in which physicists use that term; but rather that it is a mere state of mind, or of consciousness. As such it is, of course, helpless; a mere witness of the drama of life, incapable in itself of affecting or changing the external world. So far as the physical world is concerned, it is a mere by-product, a useless adjunct—the feeling of energy-expenditure being delusory. Such is the attitude of modern psychology, and a very hopeless and unattractive belief it is!

As opposed to this view, I propose to show that the human will is a definite physical energy, which forms an essential part of our human personality—and forms, indeed, the very core of our being, so far as its expression into the physical world is concerned. This view of the case, I may say, is not altogether new; several competent neurologists have, of late, defended this conception in no measured terms. Thus, Dr. William Hanna Thomson, in his Brain and Personality, says:

"An important conclusion is led up to by these facts, namely, that we can make our own brains, so far as special mental functions or aptitudes are concerned, if only we have wills strong enough to take the trouble. By practice, practice, practice, as in Miss Keller's case, the Will stimulus will not only organize brain centres to perform new functions, but will project new connections, or, as they are technically called, association fibres, which will make nerve centres work together as they could not without being thus associated.... It is not the power of the brain, it is the masterful personal Will which makes the brain human. It is the Will alone which can make material seats for mind, and, when made, they are the most personal things in a man's body.... Man can always do what he chooses, or, in other words, wills. Therefore this very different thing, his Will, makes man different from every other earthly living thing."

Such a view of the case certainly gives a far greater dignity and power to the will; but is it true? That is the question; it is a mere matter of interpretation, without any means of settling the facts one way or the other. It may be "pleasant" to believe this or many other things; but that does not make them true!

It is obvious that arguments such as this might go on for ever. The nature of the human will would never be settled by such means. We desire a more definite and concise method—one capable of settling the case one way or the other—and settling it, not by argument, but by fact. Arguments convince no one; facts every one! It is only by an appeal to fact, therefore, that this question can be settled one way or the other. The difficulty has been that, until now, no direct method has been devised capable of solving the problem. This has now been rendered possible for the first time, by means of the instrument described in this chapter. The experiments herein narrated settle, to my mind, the question of the nature of the human will; they prove it to be a definite physical energy—as much so as any other energy we know. The majority of these facts have been before the scientific world for some time; and why their philosophic interpretation and implications have not been seen is to me a great mystery. One can only account for it by assuming that most scientists are not at the same time philosophers; they do not see the full meaning of the facts they observe. Only in this manner can one account for the apathy with which the scientific world has, so far, accepted the facts in question—why it has utterly failed to see their tremendous philosophic and even religious value and significance.

My attention was first drawn to the instrument in question by Professor Th. Flournoy, of Geneva, the author of From India to the Planet Mars, Spiritism and Psychology, and other works, well known to English readers. Immediately I learned of the experiments in question, I wrote to Professor Alrutz, and obtained from him one of his instruments, by means of which the experiments described below were performed. Writing of the early results obtained by him, Professor Alrutz says ("Report to the Sixth Congress of Psychology," etc.):

"In spite of the knowledge we have gained of the electrical and chemical phenomena of the central nervous system, we must confess that we know little indeed of the inner nature of the psycho-physical processes. What is happening in the brain—especially in the psycho-motor centres—when we move an arm by means of an act of will? What are the forms of nervous energy which are employed? Are these entirely electrical and chemical forces, the neural impulses being mere electrical currents? Or are there other forms of energy which experimental physiology has not as yet brought to light? Might there not be, perhaps, some form of energy more closely allied to the psychic acts, constituting a sort of bridge or transition between psychic phenomena, on the one hand, and electrical and chemical phenomena, on the other?

"When we wish to study the electrical charge contained in any body, we obtain exactitude only when we succeed in transferring this charge to another body; we may then study the nature of the charge under varying circumstances, and establish the influence of the two charges upon one another. It is only in this way that experimentation becomes truly fertile. Should we not apply the same laws to the phenomena of the nervous system, and institute a similar mode of experiment for the nervous energies? Under what conditions can we conceive this transference?

"The most natural supposition seems to be that it would occur, if at all, in labile organizations; in those subjects which, according to Janet (Les Nevroses, p. 339), possess an excessively unstable personality; and whose psychic life is characterized by great suggestibility, by instability, and a certain peculiar mobility. Such individuals are also characterized by the great facility with which the functions vary and react upon one another. Binswanger has said that the nervous system of these individuals is characterized by the variability of the dynamic cortical functions; that is to say, by the fact that the nervous segments of their cerebral cortex present a melange of greater or lesser irritability...."[18]

Professor Alrutz goes on to say that, guided by this idea, he constructed an instrument designed to test his theory—based in part, but not wholly, upon the earlier instruments employed by Hare, Crookes, etc., to test the same thing. As is well known, these experimenters spent much time in their investigations—both of them coming to the conclusion, after years of patient research, that physical apparatus could be definitely influenced and moved by the will of certain persons, when exercised in the direction of their movement, and without sufficient contact to account for the observed facts. Crookes' experiments, in particular, are very conclusive in this direction—his apparatus being very similar to that designed by Professor Alrutz. He employed a board, one end of which was attached to a spring balance, while the other end of the board rested upon a solid table. The subject placed his hands upon the board, and a definite pressure was registered by the balance—far more than could be obtained in any normal manner. These experiments of Crookes are classical, and have never been "explained away." With the present instrument, there seems every likelihood of confirming these earlier experiments.

The apparatus employed is of the simplest possible construction. A solid board, some 10-1/2 by 13-1/2 inches, and 1 inch thick, forms the base of the apparatus. In this, at a distance of some 6 inches, two holes are drilled, into which are inserted pegs, 3-1/2 inches long, and sharpened at their top edges to a fine knife-edge. This constitutes the fulcrum—the upper board resting on these knife-edges, and being unevenly balanced on them. (See Frontispiece.)

The upper board, resting on these edges, is some 19 inches long by 13 inches broad at the lower end, and 10 inches broad at the upper end. The narrowing takes place about 6 inches from the end of the board (broad end), in the form of a rapid inward curve. It is here that a groove is cut, and, 7-1/2 inches from the broad end of the board, two pointed grooves are also cut, which allow the board to rest nicely upon the knife-edges of the two pegs below it. In this position the board would naturally assume a downward slant, owing to the greater length of the board on one side of the fulcrum than on the other. (See Frontispiece.) When the long end of the board is supported, by means of a piece of string, to a letter scale, however, the board is made to assume a horizontal attitude, parallel to the table top. In this position the board weighs just 5 ounces, and if the balance registers more than 5 ounces, it shows that a weight or pressure or force has been applied to the long end of the board. If force be applied on the short end of the board (where the hands rest), it would have the effect of merely depressing this end of the instrument, and causing a lessening of weight, as registered by the balance. This is noted invariably whenever pressure of the hands is made upon the board near the sitter.

With this little instrument, Professor Alrutz tried a number of experiments, on several occasions, which he divided into groups or series. The history of his initial experiments is, as briefly as possible, as follows:

1st Series.—No results.

2nd Series.—The board, after a short interval, lowered, showing a pressure of 40 grammes. This was at the first trial. It descended slowly, remaining at this point for about 5 seconds. It again descended several times, making at one time a depression of 120 grammes. On another occasion the board was depressed, and showed a pressure of 100 grammes, which lasted for 35 seconds. On other occasions lesser depressions were noted, but for longer periods of time. On several occasions the balance registered a downward pressure for two minutes or more. This was in good light, and was carefully observed by two physicians, as well as by Professor Alrutz. The "subjects" were, in this case, ladies of good Swedish families, who had never seen or heard of the instrument before. They were, however, during the experiments, treated as professional "mediums," and every precaution was taken to prevent fraud. The following were some of the precautions observed:

The light was sufficiently good to enable the observers to see that no threads or hairs were attached to the board or any part of the apparatus or balance. They also ascertained this with their hands. It was also seen that none of the subjects lifted the board by slipping their fingers under the edges of the board and pulling it upwards. (It may be remarked in this connection that even had they done so this would not account for the results noted; since, in several instances, the downward pressure recorded was more than the weight of the entire board.) As the eyes of the observers were close to the board and to the fingers of the subjects, it was clearly seen, however, that nothing of the sort took place. Besides, as before said, the subjects who tried the board were ladies, and not professional "psychics" in any sense of the word.

It was also ascertained that no sticky material was upon the fingers of the subjects; they were carefully examined both before and after each experiment. Further, to test this hypothesis fully, thin strips of wood (shavings) were on several occasions introduced between the subjects' fingers and the board, which was depressed. Had they lifted their fingers, therefore, they could not possibly have lifted the board, which would not have adhered to them under these circumstances.

3rd Series.—Two "functionaries of state" attended this series, the principal subject tried being the wife of one of these dignitaries. He himself was extremely sceptical of his wife's ability to move the board, and remained so until convinced by the facts! The board was lowered, and the balance showed a pressure of from 70 to 100 grammes. The subject was extremely fatigued after these tests, and went to sleep almost immediately. Others who tried the board could obtain a registration of only 2 or 3 grammes.

4th Series.—Several very successful trials were made in this series with two ladies as subjects. Both placed their hands on the board together, and the depressions were of very long duration. In these experiments sooted paper was placed under the hands of the experimenters. It was noted that better results were obtained if one of them cried "Now!" when the board was to be depressed. The desire to sleep was strong after these trials, and in one instance the subject really did fall asleep during the experiment! An odd fact which should be noted in this connection is that no results were obtained unless the subject looked at the long end of the board while the "willing" was in progress.

5th Series.—This series of experiments was attended by a well-known physician and a psychologist. The light was good as before. From 40 to 50 grammes were registered by the balance on several occasions, the downward pressure lasting from 20 to 30 seconds. Clearly, therefore, none of these depressions could be attributed to mere oscillations of the board, but denoted a definite and persistent downward pressure.

Nausea and a strong desire for sleep were experienced by the subjects in this series of experiments, as before.

The above is a very rapid summary of the report drawn up by Dr. Sydney Alrutz, and read to the Sixth Psychological Congress, which met at Geneva in August 1909. Professor Alrutz also attended the Congress in person, and brought with him one of his instruments, which he desired to try upon some of the members in the presence of a number of psychologists. In several instances these attempts were entirely successful; and Professor Flournoy, editor of the Archives de Psychologie, was enabled to say of these experiments:

"Professor Alrutz invited me to assist in two seances, in which we experimented upon some of the feminine members of the Congress who desired to try it. The first, in which the subject was Mme. Glika, yielded nothing conclusive. But at the second, at which Professor Alrutz attempted to increase the force by adding two other members of the Congress (strangers who had appeared to him to possess suitable temperaments), it succeeded fully, and I was able to prove conclusively after three trials, and under conditions precluding all possibility of fraud or illusion, that the will of these ladies, concentrated upon a certain material object with a desire to produce a movement in it, ended by producing this movement as if by means of a fluid or an invisible force obeying their mental command." (Spiritism and Psychology, p. 291.)

So much for the testimony of Professor Flournoy and Professor Alrutz. In view of the facts and the well-known caution of these investigators, we may assuredly take it for granted that there is here no room for doubt, and that the manifestations really took place as recorded.

My own experiments with this board have not, unfortunately, proved nearly so conclusive as those of Professor Alrutz—owing, doubtless, to the rarity of good "physical mediums" or those capable of exercising their will in the desired manner. It must not be thought that any one possessing a "strong will" can manipulate the board—as Professor Alrutz has pointed out. It is only a peculiarly endowed person who can move the board, one capable not only of exercising the necessary will power, but also of externalising it—a very rare power. Hence the small number of successes. Out of all those tried, I have found only two who could (apparently) move the board at all, and even in their cases the results were far less striking than in the cases reported by Professor Alrutz. In one case a number of slight depressions were obtained; but these were so fleeting, and lasted for so short a time, that it was almost impossible to be certain that the results were not due to mere oscillations of the board. In the second case, however, more definite results were obtained. On several occasions, depressions of half an ounce were noted; and, on two occasions, of more than an ounce, lasting for several seconds. I was enabled to assure myself at the time that these depressions were real, and were not the result of fraudulent manipulation of the board. Although these results are few and meagre compared with those of Professor Alrutz, still they tend to confirm his views, and add to the testimony adduced by him and by Professor Flournoy, in favour of the reality of the facts—of the actual physical pressure by the Will upon the board in question.

In view of these results, then—of this apparently mutually confirmatory testimony—it seems impossible to doubt the fact that we have here definite and conclusive proof that the human will has succeeded in depressing the board in question—in being registered upon the balance, and, consequently, that it is a physical energy, capable of affecting the material world just as any other physical energy does.

PART II

Theories

It may be contended, however, that in thus postulating the human will as a physical energy I have not taken into account the alternative explanation of the facts which might be adopted or assumed. This theory contends that it is not the will itself which causes the movement we observe, but the cerebral activity which corresponds to it, and is its physiological counterpart. It has frequently been pointed out before (cf. Ribot, The Diseases of the Will, pp. 5, 6), that when we will to move our arm, e.g., it may not be the will at all, per se, which affects the movement, but the brain-state or neural activity which accompanies the act of will. In other words, mind or will never affects matter (as we feel it does), but it is always one portion of the body which affects another portion—the will or state of consciousness being merely coincidental with this observed action.

This has been one of the classical objections to the doctrine of inter-actionism; and it must not be thought that I have failed to take into account this alternate theory. But opposed to this view of the case we have the facts—(1) that the state of consciousness, and not the brain-state, is surely here the important factor; and (2) that, even were the supposition true, this nervous action or influence must cease at the periphery of the body; for, were this not the case, we should already have exceeded the limits of the orthodox physiological theory, which contends that one portion of the body affects another portion (only), and does not contend or pretend that this action may extend beyond the surface of the body; for, if it did so extend, we should have a nervous current without nerves—an appalling fact, and one totally opposed to accepted physiological teaching!

In order for nervous energy or life force to exist independent of the body (upon the functionings of which it supposedly depends), it would be necessary for us to reconstruct the mechanistic interpretation of life, since it would show that life is not dependent upon the body for its existence, but might exist independently of it, which is the very point in dispute. It cannot logically be contended, therefore, that the energy which we here see in operation lies in the nerves or in the brain-centres, but rather that it is a separate force, which physiology, as taught today, cannot account for. Introspection and experiment seem to unite in telling us that this energy is none other than the human Will.

But if it be granted, on the other hand, that the will is a physical energy, we immediately encounter certain difficulties which must not be ignored. In the first place, if the will be a physical energy, it is subject to the law of Conservation, and, consequently, must be included within the cycle of forces which that law encompasses. Light, heat, chemical affinity, etc., are supposed to be mutually convertible and transmutable; and, according to the present hypothesis, Will must also be included in this series! But every energy we know in the physical universe is a non-intelligent energy, and, as I have pointed out elsewhere, if we make the human will thus subject to the law of Conservation, it seems to form a unique exception to the law. For we know (if our consciousness tells us anything) that willing is an intelligent act, and we should consequently have this conscious act or intent left over in the equation. For we have, in all other cases, purely physical energy, and in this case physical energy plus something (conscious intent). The law of Conservation tells us that one energy is derived from another, and is converted again into another form of physical energy, when it is expended. But if will, ex hypothesi a physical energy, is derived from another physical energy (by a process of combustion, or what you will), we have here a case of the lesser including the greater—of a thing giving rise to something greater and more inclusive than itself—which is contrary to all accepted thinking. The will, therefore, cannot be entirely subject to the law of Conservation, but appears to draw upon an additional fund or source of energy, which is infused into it, as it were, from without. This "thing" which is infused or super-added, this "something" which is the "plus" in our equation, appears to be the directive element, the life element, the sentient element—which is thus shown to lie outside the law of Conservation, as many physicists and philosophers (Lodge, Crookes, Bergson, etc.) have for some time past contended it must or might lie.

One significant fact, in this connection, is that while the law of Conservation is doubtless true, so far as it goes, there is also in operation another law, well known to physicists, called the law of the Degradation of Energy, which asserts that energies of a higher order are constantly being converted into energies of a lower order. This law maintains that energies of a lower order cannot be reconverted into energies of a higher order. All other energies are being slowly but surely converted into heat—the lowest of all forms of energy. And this heat is gradually being dissipated, or radiated away, into space, so that, at some distant day, our universe will be cold and lifeless, like the moon.

Now it is a significant fact that the single exception to this rule consists in, and is constituted by, life, or vital energy, which is constantly building lower forms of energy into higher forms. Life is certainly the highest form of energy which we know in this world, and all energies are below this in rank—as may readily be proved by an appeal to the facts of nutrition and metabolism. And, as life is constantly being added to or infused into the world (as the population increases), it is certainly true that there is here a definite increase of the sum-total of the highest form of energy of which we have any knowledge. Life thus occupies not only an important but a unique position—in that it is constructive instead of destructive; and this fact alone should give us pause, and make us ask whether life is, in its totality, subject to and included within the law of Conservation of Energy.

The establishment of the fact that the human will is a definite physical energy is of importance also, because of its bearing upon the problem of the connection or inter-relation of mind and matter. Theories as to this bond or connection have been propounded since the dawn of philosophy. Aristotle and others wrote and thought deeply upon this subject. As is well known, this question formed one of the central points of debate in the works of Hobbes, Berkeley, Hume, Descartes, Leibnitz, Spinoza, Kant, Hegel, Lotze, and many other philosophical writers—all of whom wrote and speculated at length upon this subject. The theories which have been advanced in the past are briefly as follows:[19]

1st. Crude Materialism.—This doctrine contends that consciousness is merely matter, or energy, or matter in motion. It is not necessary to discuss this theory here, as it is not held today by any scientist of the first rank.

2nd. Epiphenomenalism.—This doctrine found its foremost champion in Huxley. It contends that the important happenings are the brain-changes—which are causally connected—and that our thoughts, or corresponding states of consciousness, merely accompany the brain-changes, just as the shadow of a horse may be said to accompany the horse.

The objections of this doctrine are:—

(a) That it is just as inconceivable to believe or imagine that brain-changes generate consciousness as it is to imagine that consciousness generates brain-changes.

(b) The law of Conservation is preserved at the expense of the law of Causality. For, if no part of the cause passed over into the effect (the state of consciousness), the law of Causality would be violated.

(c) The appearance of consciousness, at some definite point in the course of the evolution of the animal kingdom constitutes a breach of continuity.

For these and other reasons epiphenomenalism is today held by few, if any, philosophers.

3rd. Psycho-Physical Parallelism.—This is the doctrine maintained by Muensterberg and others. It contends that brain-changes and states of consciousness are merely coincidental in point of time, and do not ever influence each other. Their relation is that of mere coincidence or concomitance, and not causation. The two flow along, side by side, without in any way interfering with one another.

As regards this doctrine, it need only be pointed out that, were it true, mind and body could never influence one another, since they are not causally connected. Yet, if there be no connection, how is it that they correspond so exactly?—for, as James said, "It is quite inconceivable that consciousness should have nothing to do with a business which it so faithfully attends."

4th. Phenomenalistic Parallelism.—This is the theory maintained by Kant, Spinoza, and others. It maintains that both brain and consciousness (or mind and body) are but two different expressions of one underlying reality—just as the convex and concave surfaces of a sphere are but two expressions of an underlying reality. As to the nature of this reality, Kant and Herbert Spencer were content to call it X or the unknown, while Spinoza maintained that it was God.

Analogies which are held to support this doctrine are, however, extremely defective; but the subject is too lengthy and technical to elucidate in detail here.

5th. Psychical Monism.—This doctrine contends that consciousness is the only reality—the material world being external appearance only. Thoughts are causally connected, but not physical events. (The doctrine is thus the exact inverse of epiphenomenalism.)

In refutation of this theory, it may be pointed out that, if brain-changes are thus caused by, or are the outer expressions of, thought—why not muscular changes, and in fact all physical phenomena throughout the world everywhere? For we cannot rationally draw the line of distinction here. Such is the logical outcome of the theory—and has, in fact, been accepted in this form by Fechner and others.

While many philosophers are inclined to accept this view, it may be stated that the physical scientists are, naturally, repelled by it, and so is common sense!

6th. Solipsism.—The contention of this theory is that nothing exists save states of consciousness in the individual. Neither the material world nor other minds exist, save in the mind of the individual. This doctrine is so opposed to common sense and daily experience that it is unnecessary to dwell upon it.

7th. Inter-Actionism (Animism).—Here we have the world-old notion of soul and body existing as separate entities, influencing each other. Mind is here supposed to influence matter, and utilize it for the purposes of its manifestation.

That there are many facts difficult to account for on this theory cannot be doubted. Heredity and the origin of life must be taken into account; the "inconceivability" of the process has some weight; and the apparent infringement of the law of Conservation of Energy is a serious objection. Further, it may be urged, what evidence have we that consciousness can exist apart from brain-functioning? And, it may be said, apart from the facts offered by "psychical research," so-called, there is no evidence, strictly speaking. Hence the importance of these phenomena, if true. But the greatest objection to the doctrine of inter-actionism is doubtless that drawn from the law of the Conservation of Energy, which says that, inasmuch as mind is a non-physical energy, inasmuch as matter cannot be affected by a non-physical cause, brain-changes cannot result from will, or the activities of the mind.

But once prove that the human will is a physical energy, and this objection is readily disposed of. A physical energy is doubtless quite capable of causing all the changes within the brain which we know to exist within it—molecular, chemical, whatever they may be. It at once removes this classical objection to the doctrine of inter-actionism; and at the same time virtually proves that theory correct—thus solving this problem once and for all!

It may be pointed out, en passant, that philosophers and metaphysicians have really attacked this problem from the wrong standpoint—in their arguments concerning the relations of mind and brain—for this is a question which might have been (and in my opinion should have been) determined not by argument, but by fact. Instead of arguing, a priori, as to the nature of the connection, the problem might have been solved in the same way that all other problems are solved, viz., by an appeal to evidence and fact. The fundamental point made by practically all philosophers, in discussing this question, is that brain-states and conscious states are always found together, and that consciousness can never exist in the absence of brain. In other words, mind cannot exist as an "independent variable" in the world; it must always accompany a human brain.

I pass over, without comment, the fact that, according to the doctrines of idealistic monism and psycho-physical parallelism, this independence is virtually allowed, by the very nature of the doctrine; and shall point out merely that, if consciousness could be proved to exist independent of brain functioning, philosophic theories would have to be remodelled to conform to the evidence; the a priori problem could be settled at once by an appeal to actual fact. And again this separate existence of consciousness seems to be established by the facts of "psychical research," which apparently show that mind can exist apart from brain structure. This important fact once established, it would at once alter the whole case and render inter-actionism not only a "respectable" theory, but a proved fact.

So much for the importance of this doctrine (that the will is a physical energy) from the point of view of philosophy, and as applied to the question of the inter-relation of brain and mind. Now let us see if it cannot be applied in another direction.

The present interpretation of the character and nature of the will, and its inclusion as a physical energy, has a distinctly important bearing upon one of the most bitterly disputed points in the whole history of philosophy, viz., the question of the Freedom of the Will.

As is well known, there are two opposing views upon this subject—held by opposite schools—the theory of Determinism, on the one hand, and of Free Will on the other. The Libertarians assert that our wills are free—we having power of choice in all our actions. The Determinists, on the other hand, contend that our thoughts and actions are determined by definite, ascertainable causes. They contend that the feeling of freedom we all experience is but illusory, and that, in reality, our every action is inevitable—predetermined by its previous cause of causes, and could have been predicted by an intelligence wide enough and possessing a grasp deep enough of human nature to perceive life in all its tendencies. Indeed, one eminent philosopher went so far as to say that a belief in Free Will showed simple ignorance of science and a clinging to superstition!

A great deal has been written upon this subject of Free Will in the past; the point has been bitterly disputed for years. It may be said, however, that, at the present day, practically all philosophers and scientists, with few exceptions (e.g., James, Schiller, Bergson, etc.), believe in Determinism. The arguments for that doctrine are certainly weighty, and may be summarized, briefly, as follows:

1. The Law of Conservation of Energy tells us that no energy can be added to or abstracted from the total stock of physical energy in the universe. If the will be a non-physical energy (as it is conceived to be, by psychologists), it cannot affect the physical world, for if it did the law of Conservation of Energy would be overthrown. Hence, the will cannot affect the material world: hence, it cannot be a true cause.

2. Biology contends that heredity and environment alone are capable of explaining the actions and movements of the lower organisms, without postulating any "will." Inasmuch as man is connected with these lower organisms by an unbroken line of descent, why should not these factors explain man's actions also?

3. Physiology teaches that in-coming nerve stimuli give rise to certain physical changes in the nerve cells or centres, which, in turn, give rise to out-going (afferent) currents. There is here an arc or loop of unbroken physical causation; and there is no "room" for consciousness, save as an "epiphenomenon," as postulated by Huxley.

4. The Law of Causation tells us that an effect must have a cause, and that the cause must, in a certain sense, resemble the effect—since the effect is, in a sense, the cause translated. But, inasmuch as the effect is a physical event, the cause must also be physical in its nature; hence will (supposedly a non-physical event) cannot possibly play a part, or be a true cause.

5. Philosophical Science contends that Nature is a "closed circle." Mechanical causation holds supreme sway. Everything happens according to law and order. If Free Will were allowed a place in the scheme of things, chance and caprice would immediately be introduced into our world—which could never be tolerated for a moment!

6. Psychology holds that every mental state has its equivalent or counterpart in a corresponding brain-state. But each brain-state is not caused by the state of consciousness, but by the preceding brain-state. Here, again, there is no room for "free will" to play any part.

(Inasmuch as we are approaching this subject from a purely scientific point of view, the arguments drawn from sociology, ethics, and theology need not here be discussed. The interested reader is referred to Professor H. H. Horne's excellent little book, Free Will and Human Responsibility, for an extremely clear summary of this problem.)

The reply of the Libertarian to these problems is usually somewhat as follows:

1. The doctrine of Conservation has not been experimentally proved with regard to the relation of mind and brain; it is only assumed. Still, granting it to exist, all energy may, in its ultimate analysis, be psychical, instead of physical, in its nature—the doctrine of idealism, which is today gaining wider and wider acceptance, seeming to support this view.

2. That man resembles the lower animals does not prove that he is identical with them. On the contrary, the observed differences constitute the very differences about which the argument rages. Further, recent theories of organic evolution are tending to prove that interior (spontaneous) forces play a part, as well as exterior forces.

3. If consciousness were a mere "epiphenomenon," having no "use" to the organism, it would soon perish (if it ever appeared) according to the law which says that all useless functions perish. But we know that, as a matter of fact, consciousness has grown more and more complex, as evolution has progressed.

4. The Law of Causation is doubtless valid and universal; but to assume that this is invariably physical begs the question at issue. May there not be psychical causation? Only thorough-going materialism can say "No" to this question; but materialism is today out of date.

5. The Philosophy of Nature.—This is a strong argument, a priori, but is subject to re-interpretation, in the light of new facts, to which it must conform. Facts might be adduced which proved this particular view of nature wrong. It is, in short, only a working hypothesis, subject to revision, as new facts are adduced, tending to alter it.

6. Psychology.—Our ignorance of the possible relation of brain and mind is no excuse for our dogmatically asserting that no such connection is possible. It may be a fact, though unintelligible to us. Mental states may influence, partially at least, successive brain-states. We cannot say. If one man asserts that they cannot, another may assert that they do. Hence every one is at liberty to believe what he pleases! Nothing is proved.

If, now, we glance at the preceding arguments, we find that they may be summarized somewhat as follows:

Arguments 2, 3, 5, and 6 are practically valueless, one way or the other. Both sides might claim a victory; none of these arguments would settle the question.

Argument 4 is certainly valid, to a certain extent, and can only be surmounted by assuming that a non-physical energy can affect physical energy. But I do not think that any physicist would be inclined to admit this. So that this argument cannot be used in support of the doctrine of Free Will.

There remains the first argument, drawn from the law of the Conservation of Energy. This is certainly the strongest of all (to my mind), and is, as it stands, valid. Though idealism may maintain that all physical energy may be, in its ultimate analysis, only psychical energy, I do not for a moment believe that any physicist really believes this, or that any man accepts it as a common-sense doctrine—one which can be acted upon in daily life. It is mere philosophical sophistry and hairsplitting, and we must believe, as a matter of fact, that physical energy is really physical, and not psychical, in its nature.

As to the first portion of this argument, although the law of Conservation of Energy has never been shown to be invalid, when applied to the connection of brain and mind, still, every one probably believes that it does actually obtain, and that a brain-state cannot result in consequence of non-physical influences any more than any other physical event could so result. It is tacitly admitted, therefore, that the law of Conservation holds good here also, and that will cannot affect brain, because will is not a physical energy.

We are now in a position to see the tremendous importance of the facts contained in the first part of this chapter. Inasmuch as theory must follow fact; inasmuch as it has been proved experimentally that the human will is a physical energy—this whole question of the relation of brain and mind, of the influence of the former by the latter, and the question of Free Will, must be remodelled in accordance with these facts. The whole Free Will controversy is settled at one stroke (and in favour of Free Will!), and all the books which have been written upon this subject, and all the thought and energy which have been expended in the past are thus shown to be so much waste-paper and wasted effort! For, as we have seen that the whole question resolves itself into the central problem of whether or not the law of Conservation of Energy is valid—whether will or mind can affect brain—it will be seen that the proof that will is a definite physical energy settles the case once and for all. Determinism is routed; Free Will wins the day; and here again, as usual, theory follows fact, instead of dictating what those facts should be! At "one fell swoop" we are enabled to solve and to settle for ever one of the most bitterly disputed points in the whole history of philosophy and metaphysics!

This theory (might we not say, this fact?) that the will is a definite physical energy, at least in part, is thus of great philosophic, no less than scientific importance, if true. It even enables us to recast our conception of the origin of the world, and of all forces, and enables us to reconstruct—in a more or less intelligible manner—the story of Creation, contained in the first chapter of Genesis—an account which has been more ridiculed, perhaps, by dogmatic physicists than any other account in the whole Bible.

Much has been written upon this subject in the past; but it must be admitted that, from the point of view of physics, the whole difficulty lay in conceiving the first initial impulse which started our Universe on its endless way. All matter being but an expression of energy, all energy being (in all probability) but the varying modes or forms of expression of one underlying primal energy, the difficulty has been in accounting for the origin of this primal energy—the initial "push," so to say, which sent the Universe on its way.

Many evolutionists have admitted that, once given this initial impulse, all might readily be accounted for. The difficulty lay in conceiving this primal impetus.

But if Will be also a form of energy—though, as we have seen, only partly within the law and partly beyond it—then it is conceivable that this energy, coming from a source external to that presented by physical nature and physical science, should have infused or imparted enough energy (perhaps only an infinitesimal amount, enough to originate the impetus), which, according to Haeckel and others, is all that need be supposed, to enable us to account for the whole of organic and inorganic nature! This fiat, having once gone forth, would originate, or be the source of, the first "cosmic urge"—would, in fact, supply that impetus which modern science has so long sought in vain!

FOOTNOTES:

[18] This explains why "every one" cannot move the board; there must be this peculiar nervous and psychic instability in order to insure the results.

[19] I am indebted to Dr. M'Dougall's excellent work, Body and Mind, for the data from which I have condensed the following summary.



CHAPTER V

MODERN DISSECTION OF THE HUMAN MIND

Dissection of the mind! Can that too be dissected? We hear much nowadays of dissection of the human body; of organs which have been transplanted and which perform their functions in the body of another animal; of marvellous operations, in which tissues and viscera have been removed, repaired, and replaced—seeming none the worse for their remarkable experience; of operations which have been performed even upon the brain, in which whole segments have been cut away, and other delicate experiments undertaken—all of these marvels we have grown more or less accustomed to, by reason of the ease and certainty with which they are performed. But the human mind; that is a different matter. Here is something which, intangible in itself, seems incapable of dissection or of objective experimentation, in the ordinary sense of the word. Yet that is what present-day normal and abnormal psychology has been enabled to do! Shakespeare's adage: "Who can minister to a mind diseased?" can now be answered by saying: "To a certain extent, the specialist in normal and abnormal psychology."

If you shut your eyes, and turn your attention inward, in an attempt to find your real "self," you will probably find a good deal of difficulty in catching it. It will be found as illusory as the proverbial figure of Happiness, which ever flits on before us. The real centre of being, the self, the ego, the person, the individuality, evades us at every turn. Each of us has the feeling, under all ordinary and normal circumstances, that, as James expressed it, "I am the same self that I was yesterday." And one would be most astonished, I fancy, were he to wake up one fine morning and find himself some one else! Like the Arab in the tale, he would be bewildered indeed!

From the solitary desert Up to Bagdad, came a simple Arab; there amid the rout Grew bewildered of the countless People, hither, thither, running, Coming, going, meeting, parting, Clamour, clatter, and confusion, All around him and about.

Travel-wearied, hubbub-dizzy, Would the simple Arab fain Get to sleep,—"But then on waking, How," quoth he, "amid so many Waking, know myself again?"

So, to make the matter certain, Strung a gourd about his ankle, And, into a corner creeping, Bagdad and himself and people Soon were blotted from his brain.

But one that heard him and divined His purpose, slyly crept behind; From the sleeper's ankle clipping, Round his own the pumpkin tied, And laid him down to sleep beside.

By and by the Arab waking Looks directly for his signal— Sees it on another's ankle— Cries aloud, "Oh, good-for-nothing Rascal to perplex me so, That by you I am bewildered, Whether I be I or no! If I—the pumpkin why on you! If You—then where am I, and who?"

One can quite appreciate the tangled state of our Arab's mind on awakening under such peculiar circumstances, and, from the point of view of common sense and common experience, such an awakening would be an utter impossibility—fit only for fairy tales and the traditions of savage tribes. Yet, in our own day, here in civilized New York and London, similar cases have been recorded and studied by experts! Under peculiar circumstances, patients have gone to sleep one person and awakened another; and they have remained another, not only during the first temporary moments of bewilderment, but sometimes for days, weeks, and months at a time; and in some cases even whole years have elapsed before the first "self" returned to tenant the body, to look out of the eyes it had looked out of years before; to take up the self-conscious life it had lain down in sleep. And to this there may be the added horror that, during the intervening period of oblivion (for this Self) the same external body, actuated by another "Self," may have performed actions and lived a course of life utterly at variance with the tastes and desires of the primary "Self." The other Self may even have married the common body in the interval—to a man whom the original self had never known—does not know now! There may even have been children; friends, environment, all, all may have been changed in the interim. Like Rip van Winkle, the setting of life may be found to have altered; but in some of these cases, the awakening must be the greater nightmare. The unfamiliarity, even horror, of the situation can be imagined. Yet many such cases exist; and the two Selves alternately usurp and manipulate a common body; the Real Self and the Stranger. Who and what is this Stranger? Apparently it is an alien spirit—another soul, perchance, entangled miserably in the body of some equally unhappy mortal! Yet modern psychology contends that such cases represent, for the most part, mere splits or dislocations or dissociations of the normal personality; and that the two or more Selves we see before us, at such times, are none of them a real self; but mere fragments of the primary self, dissociated from it, owing to some shock or accident or disease. Let us see if we can penetrate a little deeper into this mystery of being; and lay bare the secrets of this alien Self, as well as the original Self which owned the body from birth.

The older psychology held that the mind was a unit; that it was a separate thing or entity, a sort of sphere, which, if it could ever be caught, would reveal all the secrets of True Being. Accordingly, they tried to catch this sphere-of-being, by inward reflection or "introspection." But it was never caught! There are many reasons why this should be so, the chief reason being that a subject cannot be an object also; it is as impossible for a thought to catch itself as it would be to turn a hollow rubber ball inside out without tearing the cover.[20] But the newer psychology studies the mind objectively, from the outside, by means of recording instruments, and does not depend upon introspection for its results. Further, the very conception of the nature of the "self" is different; it is not now considered an entity, as of old; but rather a compound thing, a product, a complex, composed of a variety of elements. Instead of being considered a single gossamer thread, it is now thought to be rather a rope, composed of innumerable, interwoven elements—and these, in turn, of still finer threads, until the subdivision seems endless. The mind, in other words, is thought to be compounded of innumerable separate elements; but held together, or compounded into one, by the normal action of the will, of attention, and the grip upon the personality of the true Self. When this will is weakened; when the attention is constantly slackened, when the mind wanders, this single strand of rope separates and unravels. The "threads" branch out in various directions, no longer in control of the central, governing will; the Self has become dissociated or split-up into various minor Selves—all but parts of the real, total self; yet separate and distinct, nevertheless. And if enough of these threads become joined together, or interwoven, one with another, it can easily be imagined that this second strand of rope might become a formidable opponent to the original strand; it might become so large and strong, in fact, by the constant addition of new threads, and the dissociation of these from the first, true strand, that it would assume a more important role, and become stronger, and finally even control the whole. What was originally but a single fine, divergent thread has become, in course of time, a successful rival to the original strand of rope.

Now let us apply the analogy. The mind as a whole represents the rope; its elements or component parts are the threads; and, under certain abnormal conditions, these can become torn away from the original Self—like little rivulets, branching off from the main stream of consciousness, forming independent selves. This is an abnormal condition; a splitting of the mind, a dissociation of consciousness. Another fragment of consciousness, distinct in itself, has been formed. Thus we have a case of so-called double consciousness, of alternating personality; or, if there are three or more such splits or cleavages, of multiple personality.[21]

Now we are in a better position to understand the nature of this alien self which has been formed, and which alternately usurps the common body. It is no foreign spirit; it is not a demon or fiend which has entered into the subject; it is merely a portion of the patient's own mind, acting independently a life of its own. It is a portion of the real Self, functioning independently. Let us now see how these splits or dissociations take place.

Often they are the result of some shock to the emotional nature. In one of Dr. Morton Prince's cases, the patient happened to look up and saw in the window the face of a man whom she had known years before, and with whom she had tragic emotional associations. It was storming at the time, and a lightning flash revealed the face in the window. It was a highly dramatic scene, and the shock to the patient's emotional nature caused her consciousness to split-up or become dissociated into various selves; and thenceforward for years these separate "selves" lived independent lives, each ignorant of the life of the other. In this case, there were several such personalities which alternated; and they were only finally unified and the real Self again restored by means of hypnotic suggestion, after a careful analysis of the various selves. This synthesis of the various streams of consciousness, and their ultimate unification into one primary normal self, is one of the most startling, as it is one of the most interesting and suggestive, feats of modern psychological medicine.

The principle upon which many of these cures rest, and the efficacy of suggestion, is thus apparent. By its aid the skilled specialist in abnormal psychology is enabled to gather up the "loose ends" of conscious life, as it were, and unify and consolidate them into one normal, healthy Self. He is enabled to weave them all together, and again restore the "sheath" or "wrapper" of the individual human will, keeping these threads in place henceforth, and restoring the healthy, normal personality; the mens sana in corpore sano.

Exactly how all this can come about I shall now endeavour to show. Before any of the more complex and complicated disorders of the mind can be understood, it will be necessary for us to discuss very briefly the nature of the subconscious mind—since it is upon this that all modern researches have in a great measure rested—upon the improved understanding of its nature that many of these cures rest.

It has long been known that there is a sort of mind in us, capable, at times, of performing complicated and intelligent actions without the co-operation or knowledge of the conscious mind. We see examples of this daily—in the absent-minded actions of certain individuals, in the dream life, in hypnotic trance, and in many of the cases of normal and peculiar mental action, of which numerous examples might be given, but which are so well known that it is hardly necessary at this late date to elaborate in detail. The idea has been so extensively employed by Hudson in his theory of "the subjective mind," and by others, that the general theory has pretty well saturated the public mind. Hudson's theory—otherwise open to many criticisms—is very lax, not to say erroneous, in its construction, and is not accepted today by any competent psychologist. Apart from the mysterious powers with which he endowed the "subjective" mind, he makes it now synonymous with the whole of the subconscious life outside the field of immediate consciousness; now as equivalent merely to the hypnotic stratum; now to a dream-like self, etc., until the term has become so elastic that it means nothing intelligible but everything in general! As understood by the modern psychologist, the term "subconscious mind" must be defined far more accurately before we can proceed to use it as a working hypothesis. What, then, is understood by the subconscious mind? What part of us can perform conscious operations without our being conscious of them? How can we perform intelligent operations without intelligence? It all depends upon the meaning we give to our terms. We must begin by explaining just what is meant by the "subconscious mind"; then, perhaps, we can better understand its operations and aberrations.

There are several theories as to the nature of this subterranean stratum of our being—this hidden self—each of which finds its champion in the modern psychological schools. First, there is the theory that it consists merely in the mechanical workings of the brain—a purely physiological theory, which makes the subconscious mind synonymous with certain brain activities—much the same as a series of complex reactions. It is well known that there is a brain-change corresponding to every thought we think; and the nature of the connection between the two has been one of the most debated points in metaphysics, and is one which, if we thoroughly understood it, would doubtless solve in a great measure the nature of life and of consciousness. Without going into this very complex question, however, there remains the undoubted fact of the connection; the thought, which is known by us in consciousness; and the brain-change, which has been verified by ingenious mechanical and electrical instruments, and the effects of which we behold in the chemical changes in the brain-substance itself after severe thinking. This being so, it has been said, Why not suppose that so-called subconscious actions are merely brain activities which take place, but which have never risen into consciousness? Professor Muensterberg and others hold this view. It has been conclusively shown, however, by Dr. Morton Prince and others, that this theory fails to explain adequately many of the facts—seems indeed contrary to much experimental evidence; and this view is now given up by all but the most materialistic of the modern psychological school. We have to search deeper yet for the mystery of the subconscious mind; and we shall have to grant it a certain amount of consciousness of its own, apart from all purely brain activity.

A very opposite theory is that advanced by Mr. F. W. H. Myers—that of the "subliminal self." This theory says that the conscious mind is but an infinitely small part of our total self—a mere fragment; that portion best adapted to meet the needs of everyday life. To borrow an analogy from physics, "consciousness is only the visible portion of the spectrum; the invisible, ultra portions are our subconscious selves." I shall not venture upon a criticism of this theory beyond saying that the majority of modern psychologists do not hold to it; and hence, whether it be ultimately true or false, we must disregard it for our present purposes.

Thirdly, there is the theory that the subconscious mind is composed entirely of dissociated or split-off ideas—ideas which have been dissociated or split off from the main stream of consciousness, much as a few freight cars might be shunted on to a side track by the switch-engine. This hypothesis is very similar to another theory, which contends that the subconsciousness consists of dissociated experiences—mental happenings which have been forgotten or passed beyond voluntary recall. For these mental states, or rather trains of thought, Prince has suggested the term "co-conscious," because they are conscious processes in operation at the same time as the normal consciousness. This theory is doubtless far nearer an adequate explanation of the facts than that which contends that the subconscious is merely a portion of the field of consciousness which happens to lie outside the field of attention, because that is a theory certainly inadequate to cover the facts. This last hypothesis is one which seems to be favoured by Coriat and others, but it is certainly limited in its application.

Now let us see if we cannot obtain a clearer grasp of the facts, in view of the above discussion as to the nature of the subconscious mind. We may sum-up the facts as follows:—

As the result, either of some sudden shock, or by reason of certain subjective psychological practices carried to an extreme, we have a splitting of the mind into two or more separate streams, which function separately and independently, and generally with no memory connection between the two, so that each is ignorant of what the other stream, or self, is doing. This is already an abnormal condition, a pathological state, and its severity depends upon the degree of cleavage between the streams of thought. If this be deep and lasting, we have a well-marked case of hysteria, or other disorders to be noted immediately; if, on the other hand, the cleavage be slight, we have merely absent-mindedness, wandering of the mind, and many lesser symptoms which indicate this tendency to dissociation, and which should be checked at all costs in their inception, since they are symptomatic of the tendency to disintegration of the mind, and which, if unchecked, would lead to grave disturbances later on. It is because of this fact that too much automatic writing, crystal-gazing, meditation, attendance at spiritistic circles, etc., is harmful; they one and all induce a passive state of the mind which favours dissociation and disintegration. Many of the insanities start in this fashion; and all such practices, instead of being encouraged, should be discouraged; and all experienced and intelligent students of psychical research warn those who "dabble" in the subject against the repeated and promiscuous indulgence in such practices—because of the dangerous, even disastrous, effects upon the mind, in many instances.

But we have not yet reached a distinctly morbid state. This dissociation may be slight, and of little consequence; and may even be completely "healed" without the knowledge of the patient; without his knowledge that anything strange has taken place at all—just as tubercular lesions of the lungs may be healed without the patient ever having known that he had suffered from tuberculosis. The co-conscious stream may again be diverted into the main, healthy channel; the threads of the wounded mind may again be bound up, with only a scar to indicate where the delicate protective covering had been ruptured. If such is the case, all is well thenceforward.

But the termination of the accident may not be so fortunate. If, as before said, the cleavage be deep and lasting; and if, instead of attempting to bind up the wounded mind, those practices which caused the original "split" be persisted in; if shock follow shock—to the mental, moral, emotional, or physical nature; if great exhaustion, lack of sleep, or of proper food, or other causes of a like nature, be present—then it is evident that the cleavage must become deeper and deeper yet; and, in a short time, the few stray, wandering thoughts become grouped and bound together, and begin to form a veritable psychological entity. A secondary, an alien self, has been formed. And just as it is increasingly difficult to dam-up a river which has once found its way to some unaccustomed channel, so this secondary stream of consciousness will soon become a rushing, mighty torrent, incapable of being checked or dammed in its mad course.

So long as this split-off portion remains a mass of sporadic thoughts, not much damage has been done; but when they become abnormally linked or associated together, forming groups, then the abnormal conditions have begun in earnest. These masses of subconscious experiences are called "complexes," and give rise to all sorts of trouble. It must not be thought that this complex formation is always harmful; on the contrary, this very process, when normally conducted, is the basis of our educational processes. But when they are thus conglomerated and consolidated outside the conscious mind, and function automatically, involuntarily, by themselves, then they have become dangerous to the mental stability. Their pressure and influence may be felt in the conscious life—in fantastic imaginations, in fears, phobias, and obsessions—in morbid dreams—in morbid emotional and moral reactions throughout the entire psycho-physical life. It is these automatic, self-acting complexes which originate many of the disorders of the mind.

How, then, are we to diagnose this condition when once it has been reached; and, when once diagnosed, how is it to be treated? These are the all-important questions which modern psychological students have set themselves to solve, with more or less success. As briefly as may be, these are the methods.

In the first place, a careful system of observation, question, and experiment will yield many important results. An analysis of the dream life will prove of great value in this connection also. If the dreams cannot be voluntarily recalled, they are brought to light by means of hypnotism, psycho-analysis, or the employment of what is known as the "hypnoidal" state—as induced by Dr. Boris Sidis. This is an artificially induced condition, half-way between sleeping and waking, in which many half-forgotten experiences again merge into the mind; and even thoughts which had never been in the conscious mind at all—subconscious observations, etc., or the content of the dream life. These dreams are then analysed. It is a very striking fact that differing or alternating selves may have entirely different dreams; or, on the other hand, different and distinct selves may have a common meeting-place in the dream world. By means of dreams, it has thus been possible to come in touch with the thoughts of the other Self, which had been impossible by any other means at our disposal. A study and analysis of the dream life has thus assumed great importance within the past few years, and bids fair to assume greater and greater importance as the study of the subconscious, and abnormal psychology, increases.

Other methods of tapping the subconscious mental life are: planchette, automatic writing and crystal-gazing. In the former cases, a pencil is placed in the hand of the subject, or the hand is placed on a planchette; and, while the conscious mind is occupied in conversation, or reading aloud, etc., the hand is, nevertheless, writing out an account of its experiences—its thoughts and feelings—which prove highly valuable to the investigator. Or the patient may be asked to look into a crystal, and describe what, if any, visions and pictures form within the ball. These pictures are, of course, hallucinatory; but they indicate, none the less, the content of the subconscious mind; since they are the externalized thoughts and feelings of that stratum of the mind. Here, again, we have a valuable means of diagnosis.

Again, we have a purely experimental method of studying the emotions—by means of the galvanometer. An electric current being passed through the body, variations in the current are detected by means of an electric needle, which fluctuates as the current varies. Now, it has been found that these fluctuations vary in accordance with changed emotional states; and that in certain conditions of the mind, such as dementia, the variations are almost entirely absent, because of the lack of emotional reactions. It has thus been found that this form of insanity is largely a disease of the emotional life. On the other hand, when the emotions are strong, the fluctuations of the needle are very marked and prolonged. We have thus another most valuable method of testing the emotional life—always largely subconscious—by means of purely mechanical instruments.

Finally, we have hypnotism, the skilled employment of which has been found of inestimable value in laying bare the secrets of the subconscious life. By its aid it has been found possible to disclose the secrets of being, to tap the subconscious mind at will, to explore the hidden regions of Self, which would otherwise have remained for ever inaccessible to the experimenter. For, by placing the patient in the hypnotic condition, the subconscious mind is exposed to view, as it were, and its secrets made manifest. The wounds and scars are thus rendered visible to the mental eye of the physician, and he is enabled to treat his case accordingly.

Yes, hypnotism has been found one of the chief means of cure as well as of diagnosis. By its aid the tangled skein of the mental life may be unravelled, the mental knots may be untied, and the threads may be woven and plaited together again into one normal, healthy chain of being. This may be accomplished by means of suggestion rightly applied. When once the hidden complex has been brought to the surface, when its story is told, its secrets laid bare, it seems incapable of doing more damage, of again influencing the mental life detrimentally. Its life, its vitality, seems to have gone; its ammunition has been stolen, it has "shot its bolt," it is incapable of doing more injury to the normal self. Many hidden fears, depressions, and obsessions have been removed in this manner, simply by bringing these hidden fears and thoughts to the surface and disposing of them by means of suggestion. Many seemingly miraculous cures have been effected in this manner. The "demons" have been expelled, the brooding thoughts have vanished. This method of dispelling them is technically known as the cathartic method, and consists simply in a frank and full confession. When this has been brought about, when the brooding thoughts have been brought to light—confessed and discharged, as it were, from the mind—then a cure will be found to have been wrought; the man has again been made whole—a very significant fact if taken in connection with religious conversion, communion, confession, and prayer.

We have somewhat diverged, however, from our main theme, to which we must now return. We have seen that the subconscious mind may become, so to speak, diseased—this consisting very largely in the processes of dissociation, complex formation, etc. Further, we have seen that this dissociated, automatically-acting "self" may exist either as a separate stream of thought running alongside of, or rather below the main current; or may alternate with it, by rising to the surface and occupying the whole stage to the exclusion of the normal consciousness—when we have those cases of alternating or multiplex personality which have so puzzled psychologists for many years—and the correct interpretation of which we are only just beginning to realize. When this complete change of "self" has taken place, we have those cases of altered personality referred to at the beginning of this chapter—cases which are tragic in the extreme in many instances, but which represent merely extreme types of those losses of memory from which we all suffer, to a greater or lesser extent, even in our normal life. The restoration of lost memories by means of suggestion—the synthesis of the dissociated states—this is the key to the mystery, the great secret of modern psychotherapy.

And this theory of dissociation of consciousness has enabled us to explain many puzzling facts hitherto inexplicable. Thus hysteria, with its multiform symptoms and its internal contradictions, has long been the stumbling-block of medicine. Now it is no longer thought to be a morbid state (dependent usually upon sexual disturbances), but it is regarded rather as an indication of the splitting of the mind, a dissociation which embraces all the motor, physical, and psychical activities. On this theory, hysteria is easily explained and all its multiplex symptoms understood. In treating it, the self is unified, abnormal suggestibility is removed, and the patient is cured!

Psychaesthenia again, with its obsessions and fears, may be explained in the same manner, and its cure rests upon the same principles. The "attacks" cease so soon as the psychical synthesis is effected and the morbid self-consciousness removed.

Neurasthenia, long regarded as a pathological state, due to auto-intoxication and similar causes, is now thought to be due chiefly to dissociation, caused by excessive fatigue—one of the known contributory causes to this condition. Psycho-epilepsy—a sort of fictitious imitation of the real disease—is due to precisely similar causes, and may be cured in a similar manner.

A word of caution may not be out of place in this connection. Inasmuch as hypnotism is itself a method of inducing a passive psychological state—one peculiarly open to suggestion of all kinds—it can readily be seen that its employment may be exceedingly dangerous, save in the hands of a skilled operator. It may be the very cause of a splitting of the mind—if improperly administered—if the patient is not thoroughly awakened, the effects of suggestion completely removed, etc. In this lies the great danger—of which we hear so much, usually with so little foundation! The real danger in the process is thus apparent; but, properly applied, hypnotism is doubtless of great therapeutic utility and of great practical value to the psychologist.

Just how these dissociations of the mind take place we do not yet know with any degree of certainty. We might suppose that certain areas in the brain-cortex become detached in their functionings, as it were, from the general activities, and set up a little "monarchy" of their own—interactions and associations going on within that area, but never extending beyond its periphery; that each one of these centres or areas corresponds to a "self," a personality; and that a cure consists, physiologically speaking, in bringing about a healthy and normal interaction between this "self" and the rest of the brain area, so that associations go on thenceforward in a complete and uniform manner. But this is pure speculation, for which there is no experimental evidence, though it probably represents something of the truth. At all events, the dissociation of the mind is the chief cause of the trouble, and its synthesis the chief means of cure. That much has been rendered certain by the newer researches in the field of the subconscious, and by the persistent search for that greatest of all secrets—the Mystery of Being.

FOOTNOTES:

[20] It can be shown, theoretically, that this is possible in the "fourth dimension," but not in the third. This illustrates the difference between theory and practice—a point it might be well for Christian Scientists to keep in mind!

[21] Although this theory of the "composite" nature of mind is now generally held, Mr. Myers has contended that the Self must have a fundamental unity—to enable it to withstand the shock of death.



CHAPTER VI

PSYCHIC PHOTOGRAPHY

(New Experiments)

In my Modern Psychical Phenomena (Chap. viii.) I reproduced a number of "spirit" and "thought" photographs, the evidence for which seemed to me to be exceptionally good. Since that time, I have received a number of "psychic" photographs, from various sources,—some of them obviously fraudulent, and some of them extremely puzzling, when the circumstances of their production were fairly taken into account. It will be remembered, for instance, that I published a number of curious photographs obtained by Mr. E. P. Le Flohic, on whose plates curious streaks of light were obtained, in a dark room. Since then, I have discussed the matter at some length with Mr. Le Flohic, and I am more than ever convinced that no conscious trickery was involved in the production of these pictures; I have also examined the negatives (plates), and am prepared to state that no external markings are upon them, and that they have not been tampered with in any way. In other words, the lights were undoubtedly in the room at the time the plates were exposed. Yet no one saw anything unusual! It is a curious and baffling case.

Since then, Mr. Le Flohic has tried other experiments, with almost uniform failure. In a letter dated August 14, 1920, he says:—

"... Since resuming my experiments in psychic photography, I have taken about 25 pictures, and with but two exceptions have had no results whatever. One of these I sent you some time ago, and the last one I am sending you under separate cover. (Reproduced as Figs. 1, 2.) I have not had very favourable conditions for experiments, and discontinued them about three weeks ago. I am going to arrange soon to start a series of experiments, by myself, in my private library, and should I get any results, will gladly inform you."

The curious streak of light noted in Fig. 2 is, on any theory, most remarkable. The central band seems to be dark in the middle, surrounded by a band of light, from which a golden "aura" radiates. The sitters saw nothing unusual—either in the dark, or during the flash-light, with which this picture was taken.[22]

Among the newer methods of experimentation I may mention "thought photography"—in which attempts have been made, by individuals, to obtain photographs of their own thoughts.



This method of obtaining psychic or thought-photographs is entirely different from that employed in obtaining so-called "spirit-photographs." In the latter case, a camera is focused upon the sitter, who "sits" as usual, and the forms appear upon the plate when developed. In obtaining thought-photographs, no camera at all is used; the plates (or films) are carefully wrapped in opaque black paper and sealed up, so as to prevent the slightest ray of light from reaching the plates. These plates (or films) are then placed against the forehead, where they are held for from five minutes to half an hour, or longer, according to the patience of the experimenter and the degree of his psychic power. An intense effort is made to impress upon the plate, by an act of will, a mental picture or image held in the mind. Anything will do—the head of an eagle, the sun, the face of a friend. The plate is then taken into the dark-room, unwrapped and carefully developed. In those cases which have been successful, an image, more or less clear, of the picture held in mind will be found upon the plate.

This will, I have no doubt, appear incredible to the average reader. The facts, nevertheless, remain! Such photographs have been obtained—in America, France, Poland, Japan and other parts of the world. A series of careful, simultaneous experiments have proved to us that such photographs can be taken, under precisely the conditions I have described.

Commandant Darget, of the French army, obtained a number of very striking photographs in this manner. A number of these are to be found in Joire's book, Psychical and Supernormal Phenomena, where we find thought-photographs of bottles, a walking-stick, the head of an eagle and other subjects obtained in this manner. Writing of the impression of the eagle's head, M. Darget says:

"With regard to the eagle, it was produced in this way: Mme. Darget was in my office, lying on my sofa, about ten o'clock in the evening. I said to her: 'I am about to put out the lamp and to try (as I have already done sometimes) to take a fluidic print over my forehead. I will hand you a plate for you to do it as well.'

"I therefore handed her a plate, which she held with both her hands about an inch in front of her forehead. A short time afterwards—it might be about ten minutes—she said to me: 'I think I am going asleep; I am very tired: I am going to lie down.' And feeling her way in the darkness, she handed me the plate.

"I then went to develop it, and was surprised to see this astonishing figure of an eagle. I have called it a 'dream-photograph,' although my wife does not remember having dreamed of a bird or anything else while she held the plate."

Dr. Baraduc, of Paris, likewise asserted that he had obtained psychic photographs of human radiations and of human thought. For instance, calm, peaceful emotions are said to produce pictures of softly homogeneous light, or the appearance of a gentle shower of snowflakes against a black background; whereas sad or violent passions suggest, in the arrangement of the light and shadows, the idea of a whirlpool or revolving storm, somewhat like a meteorological diagram representing a cyclone. If these photographs are really what they are believed to be, they would seem to indicate that, in our ordinary normal condition, we emit radiations which are regulated and flow forth in smooth, even succession; but when violent emotions, such as anger or fear, break through the control of the will and take possession of us, they produce a violent and confused emission.

There is no reason, a priori, why the soul should not be a space-occupying body, save for the tradition of theology. For all that we know, the soul might be a point of force, existing within and animating some sort of ethereal body, which corresponds, in size and shape, to our material body. But at all events, there is an abundance of very good testimony to the effect that the shape of the spiritual body corresponds to that of the material body; and, as such, it certainly occupies space, and possibly has weight also. It might and it might not; it is a question of evidence. It will have to be settled, if at all, not by speculations, but by facts. Are there any facts, then, that would seem to indicate that the soul might be photographed? Have we any evidence that the soul may be photographed—say, at the moment of death? If so, we should have advanced a great step in our knowledge of this subject.