Odorigen and Jiva

Professor Yaeger of Stuttgart has made a very interesting study of the

sense of smell. He starts from the fact well known in medical

jurisprudence, that the blood of an animal when treated by sulphuric, or

indeed by any other decomposing acid, smells like the animal itself to

which it belongs. This holds good even after the blood has been long

dried.

Let us state before all what is to be understood by the smell of a

certain animal. There is the pure, specific smell of the animal,

inherent in its flesh, or, as we shall see hereafter, in certain

portions of its flesh. This smell is best perceived when the flesh is

gently boiling in water. The broth thereby obtained contains the

specific taste and smell of the animal--I call it specific, because

every species, nay every variety of species, has its own peculiar taste

and smell. Think of mutton broth, chicken broth, fish broth, &c. &c. I

shall call this smell, the specific scent of the animal. I need not say

that the scent of an animal is quite different from all such odours as

are generated within its organism, along with its various secretions and

excretions: bile, gastric juice, sweat, &c. These odours are again

different in the different species and varieties of animals. The

cutaneous exhalation of the goat, the sheep, the donkey, widely differ

from each other; and a similar difference prevails with regard to all

the other effluvia of these animals. In fact, as far as olfactory

experience goes, we may say that the odour of each secretion and

excretion of a certain species of animals is peculiar to itself, and

characteristically different in the similar products of another species.

By altering the food of an animal we may considerably alter all the

above-mentioned odours, scents, as well as smells; yet essentially they

will always retain their specific odoriferous type. All this is matter

of strict experience.

Strongly diffusive as all these odorous substances are, they permeate

the whole organism, and each of them contributes its share to what in

the aggregate constitutes the smell of the living animal. It is

altogether an excrementitious smell tempered by the scent of the animal.

That excrementitious smell we shall henceforth simply call the smell, in

contradistinction to the scent of the animal.

To return after this not very pleasant, but nevertheless necessary

digression, to our subject. Professor Yaeger found that blood, treated

by an acid, may emit the scent or the smell of the animal, according as

the acid is weak or strong. A strong acid, rapidly disintegrating the

blood, brings out the animal's smell; a weak acid, the animal's scent.

We see, then, that in every drop of blood of a certain species of

animal, and we may as well say, in each of its blood corpuscles, and in

the last instance, in each of its molecules, the respective animal

species is fully represented, as to its odorant speciality, under both

aspects of scent and smell.

We have, then, on the one side, the fact before us that wherever we meet

in the animal kingdom with difference of shape, form, and construction,

so different as to constitute a class, a genus, or a family of its own,

there we meet at the same time with a distinct and specific scent and

smell. On the other hand, we know that these specific odours are

invariably interblended with the very life-blood of the animal. And

lastly, we know that these specific odours cannot be accounted for by

any agents taken up in the shape of food from the outer world. We are,

then, driven to the conclusion that they are properties of the inner

animal; that they, in other words, pertain to the specific protoplasm

of the animal concerned.

And thus our conclusion attains almost certainty, when we remember that

it stands the crucial test of experiment--that we need only decompose

the blood in order to find there what we contend to be an essential

ingredient of it.

I must now say a few words in explanation of the term protoplasm.

Protoplasm is a soft, gelatinous substance, transparent and homogeneous,

easily seen in large plant-cells; it may be compared to the white of an

egg. When at rest all sorts of vibratory, quivering and trembling

movements can be observed within its mass. It forms the living material

in all vegetable and animal cells; in fact, it is that component of the

body which really does the vital work. It is the formative agent of all

living tissues. Vital activity, in the broadest sense of the term,

manifests itself in the development of the germ into the complete

organism, repeating the type of its parents, and in the subsequent

maintenance of that organism in its integrity and both these functions

are exclusively carried on by the protoplasm. Of course, there is a

good deal of chemical and mechanical work done in the organism, but

protoplasm is the formative agent of all the tissues and structures.

Of tissues and structures already formed, we may fairly say that they

have passed out of the realms of vitality, as they are destined to

gradual disintegration and decay in the course of life; it is they that

are on the way of being cast out of the organism, when they have once

run through the scale of retrograde metamorphosis; and it is they that

give rise to what we have called the smell of the animal. What lives in

them is the protoplasm.

In the shape of food the outer world supplies the organism with all the

materials necessary for the building up of the constantly wasting

organic structures; and, in the shape of heat, there comes from the

outer world that other element necessary for structural changes,

development and growth--the element of force. But the task of directing

all the outward materials to the development and maintenance of the

organism--in other words, the task of the director-general of the

organic economy falls to the protoplasm.

Now this wonderful substance, chemically and physically the same in the

highest animal and in the lowest plant, has been all along the puzzle of

the biologist. How is it that in man protoplasm works out human

structure; in fowl, fowl structure, &c. &c., while the protoplasm

itself appears to be everywhere the same? To Professor Yaeger belongs

the great merit of having shown us that the protoplasms of the various

species of plants and animals are not the same; that each of them

contains, moreover, imbedded in its molecules, odorant substances

peculiar to the one species and not to the other.

That, on the other hand, those odorous substances are by no means

inactive bodies, may be inferred from their great volatility, known as

it is in physical science that volatility is owing to a state of atomic

activity. Prevost has described two phenomena that are presented by

odorous substances. One is that, when placed on water, they begin to

move; and the other is, that a thin layer of water, extended on a

perfectly clean glass plate, retracts when such an odorous substance as

camphor is placed upon it. Monsieur Ligeois has further shown that the

particles of an odorous body, placed on water, undergo a rapid division,

and that the movements of camphor, or of benzoic acid, are inhibited, or

altogether arrested, if an odorous substance be brought into contact

with the water in which they are moving.

Seeing, then, that odorous substances, when coming in contact with

liquid bodies, assume a peculiar motion, and impart at the same time

motion to the liquid body, we may fairly conclude that the specific

formative capacity of the protoplasm is owing, not to the protoplasm

itself, since it is everywhere alike, but to the inherent, specific,

odoriferous substances.

I shall only add that Professor Yaeger's theory may be carried farther

yet. Each metal has also a certain taste and odour peculiar to itself;

in other words, they are also endowed with odoriferous substances. And

this may help us to explain the fact that each metal, when crystallizing

out of a liquid solution, invariably assumes a distinct geometrical

form, by which it may be distinguished from any other. Common salt, for

instance, invariably crystallizes in cubes, alum in octohedra, and so

on.

Professor Yaeger's theory explains further to us that other great

mystery of Nature--the transmission from parent to offspring of the

morphological speciality. This is another puzzle of the biologist.

What is there in the embryonal germ that evolves out of the materials

stored up therein a frame similar to the parents? In other words, what

is there that presides over the preservation of the species, working out

the miniature duplicate of the parents' configuration and character? It

is the protoplasm, no doubt; and the female ovum contains protoplasm in

abundance. But neither the physicist nor the chemist can detect any

difference between the primordial germ, say of the fowl, and that of a

female of the human race.

In answer to this question--a question before which science stands

perplexed--we need only remember what has been said before about the

protoplasmic scent. We have spoken before of the specific scent of the

animal as a whole. We know, however, that every organ and tissue in a

given animal has again its peculiar scent and taste. The scent and

taste of the liver, spleen, brain, &c., are quite different in the same

animal.

And if our theory is correct, then it could not be otherwise. Each of

these organs is differently constructed, and as variety of organic

structure is supposed to be dependent upon variety of scent, there must

necessarily be a specific cerebral scent, a specific splenetic scent, a

specific hepatic scent, &c. &c. What we call, then, the specific scent

of the living animal must, therefore, be considered as the aggregate of

all the different scents of its organs.

When we see that a weak solution of sulphuric acid is capable of

disengaging from the blood the scent of the animal, we shall then bear

in mind that this odorous emanation contains particles of all the scents

peculiar to each tissue and organ of the animal. When we further say

that each organ in a living animal draws by selective affinity from the

blood those materials which are necessary for its sustenance, we must

not forget that each organ draws at the same time by a similar selective

affinity the specific odorous substances requisite for its constructive

requirements.

We have now only to suppose that the embryonal germ contains, like the

blood itself, all the odorous substances pertaining to the various

tissues and organs of the parent, and we shall understand which is the

moving principle in the germ that evolves an offspring, shaped in the

image and after the likeness of the parents.

In plants it is the blossom which is entrusted with the function of

reproduction, and the odorous emanations accompanying that process are

well known. There is strong reason to believe that something similar

prevails in the case of animals, as may be seen from an examination of

what embryologists call the aura seminalis.

Let us now inquire what the effects are of odours generated in the outer

world on animals. The odorous impressions produced may be pleasant or

unpleasant, pleasant to one and unpleasant to another animal. What is

it that constitutes this sensation of pleasure or displeasure?

Professor Yaeger answers, It is harmony or disharmony which makes all

the difference. The olfactory organs of each animal are impregnated by

its own specific scent. Whenever the odorous waves of a substance

harmonize in their vibration with the odorous waves emanating from the

animal; in other words, whenever they fall in and agree with each

other, an agreeable sensation is produced; whenever the reverse takes

places, the sensation is disagreeable. In this way it is that the odour

regulates the choice of the food on the part of the animal. In a

similar way the sympathies and antipathies between the various animals

are regulated. For every individual has not only its specific but also

its individual scent. The selection between the sexes, or what, in the

case of the human race, is called love, has its mainspring in the

odorous harmony subsisting in the two individuals concerned.

This individual scent--a variation of the specific odorous type--alters

(within the limits of its speciality) with age, with the particular mode

of occupation, with the sex, with certain physiological conditions and

functions during life, with the state of health, and last, but not

least, with the state of our mind.

It is to be remembered that every time protoplasm undergoes

disintegration, specific odours are set free. We have seen how

sulphuric acid, or heat, when boiling or roasting meat, brings out the

specific animal odour. But it is an established fact in science, that

every physical or mental operation is accompanied by disintegration of

tissue; consequently we are entitled to say that with every emotion

odours are being disengaged. It can be shown that the quality of those

odours differ with the nature of the emotion. The prescribed limits

prevent further pursuit of the subject; I shall, therefore, content

myself by drawing some conclusions from Professor Yaeger's theory in the

light of the Esoteric Doctrine.

The phenomena of mesmeric cures find their full explanation in the

theory just enunciated. For since the construction and preservation of

the organism, and of every organ in particular, is owing to specific

scents, we may fairly look upon disease in general as a disturbance of

the specific scent of the organism, and upon disease of a particular

organ of the body, as a disturbance of the specific scent pertaining to

that particular organ. We have been hitherto in the habit of holding

the protoplasm responsible for all phenomena of disease. We have now

come to learn that what acts in the protoplasm are the scents; we shall,

therefore, have to look to them as the ultimate cause of morbid

phenomena. I have mentioned before the experiment of Mons. Ligeois,

showing that odoriferous substances, when brought in contact with water,

move; and that the motion of one odoriferous substance may be

inhibited, or arrested altogether, by the presence of another

odoriferous substance. Epidemic diseases, and the zymotic diseases in

particular, have, then, most likely their origin in some local odours

which inhibit the action of our specific organic odours. In the case of

hereditary diseases, it is most likely the transmission of morbid

specific odours from parent to offspring that is the cause of the evil,

knowing, as we do, that in disease the natural specific odour is

altered, and must, therefore, have been altered in the diseased parent.

Now comes the mesmeriser. He approaches the sick with the strong

determination to cure him. This determination, or effort of the will,

is absolutely necessary, according to the agreement of all mesmerisers,

for his curative success. Now an effort of the will is a mental

operation, and is, therefore, accompanied by tissue disintegration. The

effort being purely mental, we may say it is accompanied by

disintegration of cerebral and nervous tissue. But disintegration of

organic tissue means, as we have seen before, disengagement of specific

scents; the mesmeriser emits, then, during his operation, scents from

his own body. And as the patient's sufferings are supposed to originate

from a deficiency or alteration of his own specific scent, we can well

see how the mesmeriser, by his mesmeric or odoriferous emanations, may

effect a cure. He may supply the want of certain odoriferous substances

in the patient, or he may correct others by his own emanations, knowing,

as we do, from the experiment of Mons. Ligeois, that odorant matter does

act on odorant matter.

One remark more and I have done. By the Esoteric Doctrine we are told

that the living body is divided into two parts:

1. The physical body, composed wholly of matter in its grossest and most

tangible form.

2. The vital principle (or Jiva), a form of force indestructible, and,

when disconnected with one set of atoms, becoming attracted immediately

by others.

Now this division, generally speaking, fully agrees with the teachings

of science. I need only remind you of what I have said before with

regard to the formed tissues and structures of the body and its

formative agent the protoplasm. Formed structure is considered as

material which has already passed out of the realms of life; what lives

in it is the protoplasm. So far the esoteric conception fully agrees

with the result of the latest investigations of modern science.

But when we are told by the Esoteric Doctrine that the vital principle

is indestructible, we feel we move on occult, incomprehensible ground,

for we know that protoplasm is, after all, as destructible as the body

itself. It lives as long as life lasts, and, it may be said, it is the

only material in the body that does live as long as life lasts. But it

dies with the cessation of life. It is true it is capable of a sort of

resuscitation. For that very dead protoplasm, be it animal or

vegetable, serves again as our food, and as the food of all the animal

world, and thus helps to repair our constantly wasting economy. But for

all that it could hardly be said to be indestructible; it is

assimilable--that is to say, capable of re-entering the domain of life,

through its being taken up by a living body. But such an eventual

chance does by no means confer upon it the attribute of

indestructibility; for we need only leave the dead animal or plant

containing the protoplasm alone, and it will rot and decay--organs,

tissues, and protoplasm altogether.

To our further perplexity the Esoteric Doctrine tells us that the vital

principle is not only indestructible, but it is a form of force, which,

when disconnected with one set of atoms, becomes attracted immediately

by others. The vital principle to the Esoteric Doctrine would then

appear to be a sort of abstract force, not a force inherent in the

living protoplasm--this is the scientific conception--but a force per

se, independent altogether of the material with which it is connected.

Now I must confess this is a doctrine which puzzles one greatly,

although one may have no difficulty in accepting the spirit of man as an

entity, for the phenomena of ratiocination are altogether so widely

different from all physical phenomena that they can hardly be explained

by any of the physical forces known to us. The materialist, who tells

us that consciousness, sensation, thought, and the spontaneous power of

the will, so peculiar to man and to the higher animals, are altogether

so many outcomes of certain conditions of matter and nothing else, makes

at best merely a subjective statement. He cannot help acknowledging

that spontaneity is not a quality of matter. He is then driven to the

contention that what we believe to be spontaneous in us, is, after all,

an unconscious result of external impulses only. His contention rests

then on the basis of his own inner experience, or what he believes to be

such. This contention of his is, however, disputed by many, who no less

appeal to their own inner experience, or what they believe to be their

experience. It is then a question of inner experience of the one party

versus inner experience of the other. And such being the case, the

scientific materialist is driven to admit that his theory, however

correct it may be, rests, after all, on subjective experience, and can,

as such, not claim the rank of positive knowledge. There is then no

difficulty in accepting the entity of the spirit in man, the

materialistic assertion to the contrary notwithstanding. But the vital

force is exclusively concerned with the construction of matter. Here we

have a right to expect that physical and chemical forces should hold the

whole ground of an explanation, if an explanation is possible at all.

Now, physical and chemical forces are no entities; they are invariably

connected with matter. In fact, they are so intimately connected with

matter that they can never be dissevered from it altogether. The energy

of matter may be latent or patent, and, when patent, it may manifest

itself in one form or the other, according to the condition of its

surroundings; it may manifest itself in the shape of light, heat,

electricity, magnetism, or vitality; but in one form or the other

energy constantly inheres in matter. The correlation of forces is now a

well-established, scientific fact, and it is more than plausible that

what is called the vital principle, or the vital force, forms a link in

the chain of the other known physical forces, and is, therefore,

transmutable into any of them; granted even that there is such a thing

as a distinct vital force. The tendency of modern Biology is then to

discard the notion of a vital entity altogether. If vital force is to

be indestructible, then so are also indestructible heat, light,

electricity, &c.; they are indestructible in this sense, that whenever

their respective manifestation is suspended or arrested, they make their

appearance in some other form of force; and in this very same sense

vital force may be looked upon as indestructible: whenever vital

manifestation is arrested, what had been acting as vital force is

transformed into chemical, electrical forces, &c., taking its place.

But the Esoteric Doctrine appears to teach something quite different

from what I have just explained, and what is, as far as I understand, a

fair representation of the scientific conception of the subject. The

Esoteric Doctrine tells us that the vital principle is indestructible,

and, when disconnected with one set of atoms, becomes attracted by

others. He then evidently holds that, what constitutes the vital

principle is a principle or form of force per se, a form of force which

can leave one set of atoms and go over as such to another set, without

leaving any substitute force behind. This, it must be said, is simply

irreconcileable with the scientific view on the subject as hitherto

understood.

By the and of Professor Yaeger's theory this difficulty can be

explained, I am happy to say, in a most satisfactory way.

The seat of the vital principle, according to Professor Yaeger's theory,

is not the protoplasm, but the odorant matter imbedded in it. And such

being the case, the vital principle, as far as it can be reached by the

breaking up of its animated protoplasm, is really indestructible. You

destroy the protoplasm by burning it, by treating it with sulphuric

acid, or any other decomposing agent--the odoriferous substances, far

from being destroyed, become only so much the more manifest; they

escape the moment protoplasmic destruction or decomposition begins,

carrying along with them the vital principle, or what has been acting as

such in the protoplasm. And as they are volatile, they must soon meet

with other protoplasms congenial to their nature, and set up there the

same kind of vital activity as they have done in their former habitat.

They are, as the Esoteric Doctrine rightly teaches, indestructible, and

when disconnected with one set of atoms, they immediately become

attracted by others.

--L. Salzer, M.D.

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