SOUL AND LIFE
The phrase that the dead still live does not mean the same thing as
when it is said that a human body lives. In the former case the word
“live” merely means “exist”; in the latter the word “lives” connotes,
together with the idea of existence, a particular concrete form of
living which is differentiated markedly from “living” in the abstract.
This distinction is frequently overlooked, and as the oversight
leads to much confusion of thought and lies at the root of much of
the opposition that is here and there offered to the doctrine of
“survival,” it seems well to devote a few pages to its discussion.
The “life” that is found in human bodies and throughout the organic
world is impersonal. It is material, or, rather, physical, in the sense
that it has not any existence apart from the organic matter of which
it constitutes an affection or attribute. The case is analogous to
that of gravitation. According to the accepted Newtonian philosophy
every particle of matter in the universe attracts, and is attracted by,
every other particle: it gravitates: it is ponderable. But there is no
such thing as gravitation _per se_, though there may be an entity that
causes gravitation. It is convenient, for the purposes of language and
the orderly expression of thought, to speak of it separately, just as
colour, temperature, illumination, form, structure and other affections
are referred to; the understanding, however, being always that they are
not in themselves entities and are not characterised by anything in the
nature of self-existence.
Science does not at present hold that life is an attribute of all
matter. Minerals and other forms of what is called inorganic matter are
considered to be devoid of life, and the same destitution is asserted
with respect to “dead,” “inanimate” organic matter. Life is met with
only in “living,” “animate” organic matter; just as crystallisation
is found only in “crystalline” and not in “amorphous” matter; and--to
pursue the simile--it may be pointed out that the same matter which
is crystalline under some conditions becomes amorphous under others,
as in the case of carbon, which is sometimes diamond and sometimes
charcoal. In like manner living matter may change into dead matter--a
change which is called “death”; and dead matter may change into living
matter, as, for example, when food is assimilated by animals and
vegetables.
The true nature of the “life” met with in living organic matter is
not yet understood. Modern science has shown, indisputably, that the
doctrine of the conservation of energy applies without modification
to living beings just as much as to inanimate substances. The
idea of there being any specific “vital force,” “vital material”
or “vital energy” has long ago been abandoned. All the particular
phenomena observed by morphologists, physiologists, embryologists,
palæontologists and ætiologists--_i.e._ by the whole world of
biologists--can be satisfactorily explained in terms of chemistry,
physical force, energy and dynamics. But biology cannot as yet give an
equally clear account of the co-ordinated vitality of anything that
lives. It cannot even state the how and why of the simplest unicellular
organism. “We are forced,” says a leading authority, “to the conclusion
that a living organism is a particular synthesis of matter and energy,
the secret of whose organisation remains hidden.”
We know, however, that life displays the same kind of uniformity
that characterises heat, light, motion and other imponderables. The
something that appears as the temperature of boiling water is similar
in all respects to the something that appears as the equal temperature
of hot oil and can be interchanged therewith. Indeed, the fundamental
Theory of Exchanges upon which a great part of thermodynamics is based
depends for its validity on the absence of any distinction between
the heats of various masses of matter. The only variation of heat
is that of degree: the kind is always the same; heat never becomes
individualised. This is seen by everyday observation to be equally
true of life, and is frequently demonstrated by specific experiment.
Grafting, for example, whether it consist in the union of a scion of
one tree with the stock of another, or whether it take the form of
transferring a piece of John Smith’s skin to a flayed part of Robert
Green’s arm, is the migration of a vitality that remains unchanged in
spite of the change of environment and that intermingles harmoniously
and homogeneously with the vitality of its new abode. Neither the
individualities of the two trees nor the personalities of the two men
appear in, or accompany, their stocks of “life” any more than they are
to be found in their stocks of heat or weight. The various stocks may
be more or less abundant in quantity, but they do not differ in kind.
We know also that life is capable of indefinite increase by
reproduction, provided only that the means of sustenance be available.
A single pair of rabbits, for instance, if allowed to breed unchecked
and not killed off, will, in a comparatively short time, become
represented by two millions of similar animals. This means, of course,
that the quantity of “life” corresponding to two rabbits has been
augmented a million-fold. The increase has not been derived from the
food consumed, the total amount of which is accounted for by the
bodies and excreta of the conies. A similar phenomenon is observable
throughout the whole sum of living beings, whether human, “animal”
or vegetable. It distinguishes “life” very effectually from matter
and energy, both of which are, by the doctrine of conservation, as
incapable of increase as of decrease. The only hypothesis that appears
possible by way of explanation is to hold that “life” is one of the
protean modes of energy in the same way that heat is understood (by
those persons who are content to accept the Baconian, and modern
scientific view) to be a mode of motion. This hypothesis, however, does
not rest on any secure foundation. The only energy that is known to be
practically available for transmutation into life is heat (light and
electricity seem to be negligible); and reproduction, which often takes
place on a very large scale, has never been observed to involve the
absorption and disappearance of heat.
Again, we know by observation and experiment that the function of
“life” is to organise matter; that is to say, to arrange material
particles into differentiated groups and aggregates marked by varying
complexities of composition suitable for certain specific actions.
It is sometimes contended that this systematic co-ordination and
apparent display of purpose is to be found also in the inanimate world.
The phenomenon of crystallisation, for example, is here and there
regarded as an instance of life. It is attended by growth. It exhibits
both differentiation and integration, becoming on the one hand more
complex and on the other more unified. Lost parts are seen to be
regenerated. Some degree of adjustment to surroundings is noticeable;
and reproduction may even be said to occur to some extent. But when
the crystal is formed it does not differ, either in substance or in
function, from the raw material out of which it has been constructed.
It remains inert and destitute of any approach to vitality. It may be
destroyed by crushing, fusion, solution: it never “dies.” To speak of
it as being a living creature is, therefore, inept.
If, however, great importance be still attached to the occasional
regenerations and reproductions observed in the case of inanimate
matter, it should be borne in mind that these differ very greatly
from the corresponding phenomena where life is concerned. The repairs
effected by chemical affinity and other non-vital influences are
limited to restoration and replacement without alteration of structure
or change of adaptation; and where reproduction takes place it is
limited to repetition. Very different results are met with when Life is
in control. Take any “horny-handed son of toil.” The skin of his hands
when he was a child and until he began to work was soft and tender. It
became injured by friction, pressure and the like. It needed repair;
and then Life, instead of renewing the softness, gradually developed
a condition of toughness and callosity which served as a safeguard
against further injury. Such facts as these--and a vast number are
known to Science--conclusively establish the essential difference that
exists between living matter and matter that is not invested with
vitality.
Then, too, we know that Life is not characterised by consciousness.
This is clearly evident in the cases of seeds and eggs which are most
assuredly composed of living matter. But it is also just as obvious
in fully matured human beings if careful consideration be given to
all the facts involved. A man’s bones, for example, are endowed with
life; but no one suggests or contends that they are characterised by
consciousness. The same thing is true of his hair, his nails, his
flesh, his blood. His eyes and ears and other organs of sense are
mere receiving and transmitting apparatus, and are not in themselves
conscious. Hence by far the greater part of the life that enters into
the composition of a living human being is devoid of consciousness. And
when the brain is taken into account the situation is not changed.
Cerebral matter is, like the sensory mechanism, a mere piece of
apparatus, a gramophone, as it were, which, in a certain sense of the
words, may be said to hear and to speak, but which has not any inner
consciousness of what goes on.
This view, which no man of science will contest, and which is a tenet
of modern natural philosophy, is established by the everyday experience
of every man. Not only does he know that his bones, hair, blood, etc.,
are not conscious entities, though they are full of life; he also knows
that he remains as alive as ever during his sleep, which is frequently
dreamless and free from all indications of consciousness. He knows that
chloroform and other anæsthetics are constantly employed on thousands
of occasions with resulting insensibility and unconsciousness, but
with no difference in the life that animates the bodies of the persons
operated upon. He knows that a man may be stunned by a severe blow on
the head and may become, for the time being, bereft of consciousness
while still retaining his full vitality. The truth of the matter, in
fact, is so plain as not to be open to any serious discussion, even
though, as is the case with every doctrine under the sun, it may in
appearance be argued about in words and phrases that are ingeniously
diverted from their normal meanings.
It is furthermore to be borne in mind that Life has not any conscience
and is utterly non-moral From a strictly scientific point of view this
is not a matter of any consequence; for Science is concerned merely
with existence _quâ_ existence and disregards the whole subject of
ethical good and evil. Scientific men, however, have consciences and
the knowledge of right and wrong, and are able, whenever they may
feel so disposed, to judge of Life from the moral point of view. They
see, for example, that the vitality of a living human being is just
as active, efficient and exquisitely adaptative in the development
of a painful disease as in the production of enjoyable health. They
see that the fatal microbe is fostered and sent on its murderous way
rejoicing, just as much as the phagocytes (the “blood scavengers”)
and other defensive organisms are in like manner protected and caused
to multiply. The cow is made to yield milk, while the cobra is
equally aided to prepare a store of deadly poison. The bee is set to
the beneficent work of honey-making; and the mosquito is granted a
letter-of-marque for the dissemination of malaria. Everywhere in nature
the same blindness to moral considerations and the same absence of
ethical purpose are met with in the activities of Life.
The question of how Life originates should also receive attention.
Modern science rejects the idea of its being derived from inanimate
matter or from any combination of matter with physical force or energy.
The experiments of the late Dr. H. Charlton Bastian, F.R.S., and others
with respect to the demonstration of “spontaneous generation” are held
to be invalidated by various sources of error; and the almost unanimous
verdict of the scientific world is that every occurrence of life
proceeds from some antecedent, parent, life. This doctrine involves
naturally the referring back of the entire amount of life now existing
in the world to a long line of ancestry. And as Science teaches
furthermore that a time did once exist when the world was altogether
inorganic and inanimate, there emerges the problem of when and how
Life made its first appearance on this mundane sphere. This problem
is, as yet, insoluble; and, _faute de mieux_, certain scientists as,
for example, Helmholz, Tyndall and Lord Kelvin have found themselves
reduced to the necessity of suggesting that possibly the first specimen
of life on the earth was introduced in the form of some organism
borne hither by a meteorite. But such a suggestion does not solve the
problem of Life; it merely throws back the solution by yet another
stage. And in the meantime the remarks already made in the present
chapter with regard to the capacity of indefinite increase displayed
by Life are emphasised and confirmed in a prodigious degree. It is
surely a most marvellous thing that the whole vast volume of existing
life should be the product of some minute primordial quantity without
there ever having been added any growth-material from the outside. This
difficulty was felt by Dr. Bastian and his fellow-experimenters; and
even the stoutest upholders of Harvey’s doctrine, _omne vivum ex ovo_,
as, for instance, Huxley, Haeckel, Nageli, Pflüger and Ray Lankester
have not hesitated to admit the possibility of protoplasm having been
synthetically derived from inanimate matter at some early period of
the earth’s history, when physical conditions were very different from
those of the present time and when so many things were “in the making.”
Some scientists, indeed, hold that heterogenesis may even now be
taking place in localities or under circumstances that are shielded
from observation; and others, basing their judgment upon the triumphs
of modern chemistry in the synthesis of sugar, indigo, alizarine,
urea and other organic substances, think it probable that men may yet
succeed in putting together a combination of matter that shall exhibit
vitality as one of its attributes. The bearing of all this upon the
problems dealt with in the present volume consists, of course, in the
support given to the essentially physical and non-psychical nature of
Life.
If a comparison be now made between what has here been stated with
regard to Life and what was stated in Chapter I with regard to Soul, we
shall find ourselves in presence of certain marked contrasts as follows:
LIFE SOUL
1. Is impersonal. It has 1. Is personal. Individual
not any individualities or souls exist as separate entities
idiosyncrasies. and each has its own distinguishing
character.
2. Is homogeneous. It is 2. Is heterogeneous. Souls
divisible into separate portions are distinct from each other
only in the same sense and do not coalesce.
that the same is true of heat,
light, electricity, and other
forms of physical energy.
These various parcels coalesce
when brought into contact
with each other and form
a whole that is uniform without
any differentiation.
3. Is the organiser of matter 3. Is the employer of the
and the controlling influence organs formed by Life.
morphology, physiology,
embryology, palæontology and
ætiology of the organisms
produced.
4. Is non-conscious, 4. Is conscious, perceptive,
non-sensory and incapable of sensitive, emotional, intelligent,
thought or memory. thinking, and mnemonic.
5. Is non-moral. It is 5. Is characterised by volition,
conscienceless without any accompanied by a full
knowledge of good and evil. understanding of good and
Its functions are performed evil. It is capable of acting
mechanically without any regard rightly and wrongly and of
to what results may ensue. appreciating the results of
its actions.
6. Is capable of indefinite 6. Is incapable of reproduction.
increase by reproduction. It Each individual soul
may possibly be originated by is a self-contained, self-sufficing,
a particular grouping of self-continuing entity
material atoms in combination that has not originated from
with particular physical any other soul or from any
forces and under particular matter of physical force.
physical conditions.
These contrasts necessitate a duality of signification of the word
“death.” When the death of an organic being is spoken of, the phrase
implies that the matter of which it is composed has lost its attribute
of vitality (an analogous case being the reduction of the temperature
of a body to absolute zero). And where the organic being is a member
of the human race (the question of the souls of animals and vegetables
does not lie within the scope of this book) the phrase also implies
that the soul and body have become separated so completely as to
terminate the employment of the latter by the former.
The very pith of the arguments that are sometimes advanced against
the idea of “survival” is to be found in this double meaning of the
word “death.” When the belief is asserted that “death is the end” and
that there is not any “future life,” the statements are reasonable
and well-founded if regard be had solely to the phenomena of Life and
to the relations of Life with the body. The knight who contended that
the shield was of silver maintained a true enough view; as also did
the knight who advanced from the opposite direction and, having seen
the other side of the suspended buckler, declared it to be of gold.
Death is continued death so far as the question of physical Life is
concerned: it is merely a change of stage in psychical existence.