"In every revolution," writes Renan, "the authors of it are absorbed

and suppressed by those who succeed them. The first century of the

Hegira saw the extermination of the relations and friends of Mahomet by

those who pretended to confiscate for their own profit the revolution

he had created. In the Franciscan movement the true friends of Saint

François d'Assisi, were, after a generation, regarded as heretics and

as dangerous men, and were led to the stake by hundreds."

An idea in the first days of creative activity proceeds with giant

steps, and we can say, the movement once begun continues by virtue of

the law of inertia always to increase; its originator falls behind, and

becomes an obstacle to his own idea which persists in moving forward

in spite of him. The Ebionites who gave to Christianity its first

start became after a century a scandal to the church; their doctrine a

blasphemy.[77]

[77] Renan. _L'Eglise chrétienne._

It is this very tendency, caused by the arousing of passion, that makes

all revolutions abortive, that causes them through their own excesses

to be the authors of their own destruction, and which neutralises or

much decreases the progress made by revolutions.

The gravest objection against misoneism constitutes, accordingly, the

strongest proof of it. Like the plant, the animal, and the stone, man

remains motionless, unless a disturbance of his state occurs through

other forces, and through the law of inertia itself, which after having

at first rendered him immovable afterwards drives him to opposite

excess, but to replunge him anew into immobility.

The most potent cause is that of physical environment, change of

climate. Next comes the crossing of one race with another, and it is to

this we owe in great part the marvellous productions of Greek art that

arose in Magna Grecia. Then, often, the influence of climate is active,

to which is owing the transformation of the Jew; so persecutions, and

the great calamities which races experience and which determine the

selection of the strongest. And to this result contribute above all the

impulses impressed by geniuses and by mattoids, who, as I have already

pointed out in my work on "Genius" alone possess an intense love for

the new, for the very reason that their organisation is different from

that of other people. The intensity of individual violence and power

here unbalances the tendency to immobility; but almost always—and I

show it in the work referred to—when that intensity is not favored

by circumstances, when it does not arise as the final synthesis of

a general desire, a latent and universal necessity, but simply as a

pathological phenomenon, it becomes again valueless, for the very

reason that it is individual. It is owing to this that the efforts

of a madman like Cola de Rienzi, and of such geniuses as Alexander,

Napoleon, Pombal, and Peter the Great, result in nothing. To beneficent

geniuses, as Bolivar, the Gracchi, etc., are attributed all the merit

of revolutions which triumph because they were prepared long before

by history and by circumstances, and which were only precipitated by

them and summed up in them. It suffices to note that the genius of

Garibaldi, of Cavour, and of Mazzini, has been able to give us nothing

more than Italy as it now is, in order to comprehend that in spite of

geniuses and, up to a certain point, in spite of circumstances the

work of revolution is durable only when the circumstances that have

commenced it persist, and men are profoundly modified by it.

However, the law of inertia always prevailing, (since primitive

tendencies always concern it,) these changes are but very slow and, as

we have seen, give place to easy relapses; they become fixed and swell

to new movements only when the causes which provoke them continue and

become more intense.

In fine, philoneism, progress, also sometimes triumphs—at least with

the white race and frequently with the yellow races; but it is not the

result of a sudden movement or of a natural human tendency, but the

effect of external physical forces, whether social, historical or the

like, which have caused the law of inertia to change its direction. It

is therefore the slow result, we might say, of the small and sensible

variations peculiar to men according to their condition, added to

grander movements, as well as momentarily barren ones, of geniuses and

forces, and to those more powerful ones of the physical and historical

environment. Of the resulting product we see only the effects, because

without the telescope of history and of sociology we do not perceive

the slowness with which they have reached us, and the smallness of the

efforts which contribute to it. It is thus that we do not imagine that

the great Coral Islands can be the work of billions of small zo-ophytes

accumulated the one on the other during thousands of years. The organic

kingdom, like the social, is made up of the sum total of slow and small

efforts.

The idea of the Christ and that of Buddha, the way for which had been

prepared for several centuries by other geniuses less fortunate than

they, miscarries among the people in which it was conceived, and

becomes fruitful elsewhere. But dating from the epoch in which its

votaries, nihilists of the reverse type, began to multiply and spread,

in the lowest and least intelligent strata of society, employing as

arms not violence but gentleness, more than three centuries elapsed

before it was tolerated and officially recognised. For two hundred and

fifty years the plebeians fought at Rome for their liberty. Yet they

always heard the Senators say, "Your propositions are too novel." And

liberty was granted by the one, and acquired by the others, only soon

to be lost, first, in anarchy, then under the dictatorship, and then

under the empire.

It is in this sense, that revolutions at the start can be the work

of a small number, but they represent, they are the sign of a latent

universal sentiment; this is why they grow in direct proportion to time

(and time is very long) and gain partisans among their own adversaries.

The apostles of Christ numbered only twelve, but a hundred and fifty

years later, at Rome alone, there were in the catacombs 737 tombs of

Christians; and Renan calculates that at the time of Commodus 35,000

Christians existed. We know that Saint Paul himself was one of the

bitterest adversaries of the Christians.

The English revolution, up to the time Charles I. sought to cause the

arrest of the four parliamentarians, was anti-republican, and strictly

royalist even; but ultimately revolutionary ideas spread throughout

all England, and the zealous but not blind partisans of the king were

the first to turn against him after his excesses and his treasons.

In the revolution of Flanders, the chief citizens and a great part

of the nobility, held aloof from the movement for a long period; but

all possessed in embryo the feeling uttered by the first apostles and

pioneers of the movement. Time, in its slow development, gives rise to

the complete expansion of the latent sentiments expressed by misoneism.

For example let us now transfer ourselves to another field; I wish to

speak of the abolition of classical studies. There are perhaps actually

five or six of us in Italy who proclaim without fear its absolute

necessity; as we were only three when we proclaimed the necessity of

changing the penal laws and of bringing them to examine the criminal

rather than the crime.

The first statesman who should attempt to carry out our ideas would

fall amid universal scandal; and yet these very ideas are entertained

by all who are not blinded by archæological and academic misoneism. But

they have not the courage to avow them and still less to realise them.

In a few years these ideas will no longer admit even of discussion.

That is revolution. Let us look, on the other hand, at the ideas of

the anarchists; they are in the heads, and unfortunately in the hands

of certain diseased persons, but they are not in the thought of the

majority; consequently all their agitation will be in vain, and result

only in isolated commotions and frays.

That is revolt, insurrection. And let no one say that philoneism and

progress are found as proportional reaction to misoneic action, an

oscillation of the pendulum excluding the law of inertia. The pendulum

itself does not oscillate, but remains perpetually motionless until

moved; and its oscillations, even the smallest, are produced the most

often by external causes entirely accidental. And the law of inertia is

here also so constant, that if it did not find in the friction of the

atmosphere a cause of impediment the movement once begun would continue

_ad infinitum_. So a ball flies and rebounds, when a force propels

it; and here also if friction did not retard it, it would continue

forever the motion once commenced. Inertia is the rule, and mutations

are produced by special external incidents, which being usually less

persistent, less tenacious, change more the appearance than the

reality. And these modifications which are very slow and proceed from

external causes, are produced not only among men and among animals, but

are met with even in the inorganic world; it is thus that the salts

of copper and of lime, in certain conditions of a warm medium, change

their color but not their nature nor their molecular arrangement, and

always give the same chemical reactions.

CESARE LOMBROSO.

THE QUESTION OF DUALITY OF MIND.

It is certainly conceded by all who come in general estimation within

the category of thinkers, that psychology, as formerly studied, without

basis in physiology, was most unfruitful, as compared with the modern

study of it upon that basis. It is therefore quite remarkable to find

in quarters of repute, where psychological problems are discussed, some

into which enter, even inferentially, either momentary obliviousness,

or temporary disregard of truths that are held indisputable by

modern thinkers within the lines of the subjects indicated. Yet such

contradiction and conflict are found in the constantly recurring

attempted demonstration of the dual nature of the mind or the soul,

call the entity what one will. That man has within his organisation

tendencies which are relatively higher or lower than others within

himself, is not to be disputed; but that such mixture of nature is to

be regarded as constituting him of dual mental nature, is a proposition

untenable coincidently with the maintenance of the proposition that he

is in nature physiologically single. It has been maintained lately,

that he is physiologically double, but this view has not met with

any acceptance worthy of the name. In short, it would seem, from all

that we know, that in every individual, psychical being must bear

the same relation to physiological that the latter does to physical,

and that they are all interdependent. And if this be true, the same

relations must hold good when the physical and physiological nature

degenerate into the pathological, and we find by observation that

they do hold good. So far, therefore, as the lesson inculcated by

Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde presents to the popular mind

the idea of dual mental nature in man, it is false. Viewed from the

scientific standpoint, the case exhibits nothing more or less than a

phase of physical, physiological, and psychical action, terminating in

pathological manifestations. Gradually, the physical, physiological,

and psychical natures suffer, _pari passu_, and the whole being

exhibits profound retrograde metamorphosis, through the continuous

degenerations that have been so often and so ably described by Dr.

Henry Maudsley, in which all will-power passes away, the whole being

becomes involved, and direful death of all higher attributes finally

ensues. That, during the struggle in this decadence between the will

and the instincts it is natural that it should seem to the outside

uninstructed view, and even to the individual sufferer himself, that

the phenomenon witnessed is evidence of a dual nature of mind, is not

surprising; but it is surprising to find any one of the present day who

deems himself scientific, implying that the observed changing mental,

moral, and bodily manifestations are not witnesses to co-ordinated

change; it is surprising that any scientific inquirer should lend the

slightest countenance to the belief that changed psychical phenomena

are possible without changed physical and physiological conditions, and

yet that is what we often see proclaimed through maintenance of the

proposition of the duality of mental nature.

The point mentioned belongs to the most flagrantly unscientific view of

the relations and effects of the forces in play under the conditions

discussed. But there may be in the inclusive subject-matter of the

question minor points as to which erroneous views are sometimes

presented to the public as emanating from sources otherwise scientific.

Such a one it is my intention to make the principal subject of this

paper. In the October number of _The Monist_, in the article "The Magic

Mirror," Max Dessoir, the author, says, pages 111 and 112:

"The theory from which I shall proceed in attempting an

explanation, has already been frequently touched upon in the

course of this article; for certain observations indicated it

so clearly that mention of it was not to be avoided. It is

the doctrine of the double consciousness of the human soul.

Acts are done in the course even of our every-day life, which

presuppose for their origin and execution all the faculties

of the soul, yet nevertheless occur without the knowledge of

the individual; they require a sort of consciousness and a

separate memory beyond the _cognisance_ of the normal person.

One of the most frequent cases in practical experience is

where the thoughts of a person reading aloud wander and become

occupied with an entirely different subject; and where despite

this aberration the person in question reads correctly with

the proper emphasis and expression, turns the leaves, and in

short performs acts which without intelligent control are

hardly conceivable. An English psychologist, Mr. Barkworth,

has acquired such expertness in the practice of this, that

during an animated debate he can rapidly and correctly

add long columns of figures without having his attention

diverted in the least. This points not only to an unconscious

intelligence, but—which is of still greater consequence—to

an unconscious memory. Mr. Barkworth must keep two series of

figures in his mind in order to obtain from them a third;

this latter sum he is again obliged to retain in order to

add to it a newly acquired fourth; and so on. The latter

chain of memories, let it be remarked, performs its office

entirely independently of that upon which the recollection

of the debate is constructed; and it may therefore be

reasonably maintained that there exists beyond the cognisance

of the individual, both consciousness and memory; and if

the essential components of the ego are found in these two

last-mentioned factors, then every person conceals within

himself the germs of a second personality. I designate the

two halves of consciousness that thus operate in greater or

less independence of each other,—in a figurative sense of

course,—as super-and sub-consciousness, and comprehend the

whole as the doctrine of double consciousness or the double

ego."

No one will at this late day, it is to be presumed, dispute

the existence in the same individual of subconsciousness, as

contra-distinguished from superconsciousness; superconsciousness

being that which is more familiarly known as self-consciousness, and

subconsciousness as that latent consciousness of which we are not at

all conscious, and which yet receives impressions which may or may not

rise soon, late, or at all into the sphere of self-consciousness; an

impress which cannot be summed into self-consciousness by an effort

of will, for the obvious reason that the memory has yet taken no

cognisance of them. That this subconscious function of the brain is

simply a phenomenon dependent upon cell-storage of the brain, the

product of which may or may not ever reach self-consciousness, is

proved by many circumstances attested by our memory of collated facts

concerned in our waking and dream life. Sir Walter Scott, in his

story of the "Tapestried Chamber," gives an admirable account of its

working under the lead of a sleeper's unconscious cerebration risen

to self-consciousness, for let it be here parenthetically noted that

it is absurd, as is sometimes attempted, to rule dream-thoughts out of

the realm of self-consciousness, the individuality of the dreamer never

being lost, however modified the mental and moral ideation of that

individuality may be.

But Max Dessoir evidently confounds subconsciousness with unconscious

cerebration. He makes subconsciousness, in the intellection described,

a primary factor in execution. Now subconsciousness is the mere

tablet, as it were, upon which impressions are made, and unconscious

cerebration that faculty of the brain which, without immediate, and

perchance future, cognisance of self-consciousness, may evolve from all

brain-impressions, whether subconsciously or self-consciously received,

thought of which not even the individual himself becomes aware that

he is the possessor until it is presented to him as a free gift. This

proceeds during sleep as well as during waking, sometimes anticipating,

coincidently with waking, the routine subject of thought for the

day. It sometimes in sleep, as well as in waking moments, presents

itself with the startling effect of a revelation. Subconsciousness,

therefore, is a condition of passivity, and unconscious cerebration one

of activity, although, of course, of even unknown existence unless a

product of it reaches self-consciousness. They are not to be crudely

conceived of as different manifestations of the same thing, any more

than an emotion is to be thought of as another aspect of the sensation

which produced it, the emotion being qualitatively an entirely new

departure from the sensation. Both sensation and emotion represent

conditions of activity, whereas, so far as self-consciousness is equal

to differentiating them, subconsciousness and unconscious cerebration

respectively represent passivity and activity.

But the admission of the coexistence in the same individual of

unconscious cerebration with self-consciousness does not involve the

concession of the existence of dual mentality, any more than recognised

possession of striped and unstriped, voluntary and involuntary

muscle, involves the concession that man is physically dual in

mechanical motive power. Yet it is upon the basis of the recognised

coexistence of double consciousness in man that Max Dessoir reaches

the conclusion that, figuratively speaking, as he says, there is a

double ego, by means of whose duplex action different mental processes

are simultaneously carried forward. Now, neither figuratively nor

otherwise, as should be clearly apparent from what has been said,

is there in man a double ego. For although while there is life

subconsciousness must exist, and unconscious cerebration proceed,

nothing is more open to observation than that subconsciousness and

unconscious cerebration, although always present, do not always rise

into the sphere of self-consciousness. That, during self-conscious

activity of thought on a particular subject, if continued for a long

time, subconsciousness may, through unconscious cerebration, in a

measure yield tribute to self-conscious thought is undeniable, for

we see their effect sometimes visible in the sudden inspiration of

the orator and the writer, but that they are factors in ordinary

thought-evolution, for immediate use, within very limited spaces of

time, is impossible, for we by definition limit subconsciousness

and unconscious cerebration to pure unguided automatism, while to

self-consciousness we concede the direction of all automatic processes

that represent conceptions of the mind. Obviously, to imagine that we

direct that which may or may not appear at all in the sensorium, to

be directed, and which from its nature, as known from observation,

is not likely to appear within moderate time-limits of special

thought-evolution, is inadmissible, involving the assertion of two

contradictory propositions, for, as matter of experience, we know that

the product of unconscious cerebration, even when it appears clearly

recognisable as such, seldom manifests itself before the lapse of a few

hours.

The simple and complete explanation of the phenomenon observed, in

what are deemed simultaneous mental processes, is that they are not

absolutely simultaneous. The best illustration that can be given of

the manner in which they take place is afforded by the system known as

synchronous multiple telegraphy, in which, by means of an admirable

apparatus, points on discs, representing makes and breaks of electric

current, are, at stations distant from each other, adjusted to

synchronous relations with each other, by means of electro-magnetic

agency, tuning-forks, and self-adjusting varying resistances to

the currents, so that receiving and transmitting proceeds with a

continuousness just short of perfect continuity. I am not attempting

to liken the rapidity of thought to that of electricity, even

when electricity is embarrassed and slowed by mechanism of man's

construction; but otherwise the analogy between so-called simultaneous

mental processes and the results obtained from so-called synchronous

multiple telegraphy, is as perfect as any analogy can be. Thus the

make and break impulses of the will direct the self-conscious flow

of nerve-force in receiving and transmitting impulses of almost

synchronous time upon various subject-matter successively taken up

and dropped. The thought for each is not simultaneous, nor of equal

duration, but so nearly simultaneous as to appear so, and of duration

sufficient for its task. The individual thought-times are not,

therefore, represented, as in the telegraphic instrument described,

by equal spaces of time, but bear due relations to the respective

difficulties of the subject-matter almost synchronously attacked. It is

self-conscious thought that is here involved, whether in sleeping or

waking, that is, will-directed thought, for even in sleep we observe

the will as imperfectly directing; striving, however, always to direct.

As has been admitted, if the process of self-conscious cerebration

last over a long space of time, it is possible that some fragment

derived from unconscious cerebration may contribute to the grand

total of primary flow. This, however, is not of normal occurrence,

seeing that unconscious cerebration often deals with matter entirely

alien to present self-conscious mental occupation. The fruits of

such cerebration are therefore impossible to be counted upon, and

therefore cannot be insisted upon as proving from the experience cited

by Max Dessoir the existence, even figuratively speaking, of double

consciousness construed as forming with self-consciousness a double

self; while the well-known action of subconsciousness, unconscious

cerebration, and conscious cerebration, as related to one another,

amply explain all the phenomena in waking, sleep, and even in hypnotism

if we include in that hysteric diathesis.

The Monist, Vol. 1, 1890-1891 · 第 35 / 64 段