CHAPTER II.

MATERIALISM.

This is the theory which presents great fascination to the student of

physical science. By laborious investigation physiology has established

the fact beyond the reach of rational dispute, that there is a constant

relation of concomitancy between cerebral action and thought. Within

experience mind is found in constant and definite association with that

highly complex and peculiar disposition of matter called a living brain.

The size and elaboration of this peculiar structure throughout the

animal kingdom stand in conspicuous proportion to the degree of

intelligence displayed; while the impairment of this structure, whether

by congenital defect, mutilation, anaemia, decay, or appropriate poison,

entails corresponding impairment of mental processes. Thus much being

established, no reasonable man can hesitate in believing the relation

between neurosis and psychosis to be a constant and concomitant

relation, so that the step between this, and regarding it as a causal

relation, seems indeed a small one. For, in all matters of physical

inquiry, whenever we have proved a constant relation of concomitancy in

a sequence _A B_, we call _A_ the cause of _B_; and, therefore, it has

been frequently said that the evidence of causation between neurosis and

psychosis is recognized causation. Lastly, to fortify this hypothesis,

materialists point to the doctrine of the conservation of energy, which

is supplied by the science of physics as a sort of buttress in this

matter to the teachings of physiology. For, as this doctrine compels us

to believe that the chain of physical causation involved in cerebral

processes can nowhere be broken or deflected _ab extra_, we are

compelled to believe that the mental processes, which are correlatively

associated with these cerebral processes, can nowhere escape from 'the

charmed circle of the forces,' so that whether we look to the detailed

teachings of physiology, or to the more general teachings of physics, we

alike perceive that natural science appears to leave no locus for mind

other than as a something which is in some way a result of motion.

The position of Materialism being thus at first sight so naturally

strong, and having been in recent years so fortified by the labours of

physiology, it is not surprising that in the present generation

Materialism should be in the ascendant. It is the simple truth, as a

learned and temperate author, speaking from the side of theology, has

recently said, that

'Materialism is a danger to which individuals and societies will

always be more or less exposed. The present generation, however,

and especially the generation which is growing up, will obviously

be very especially exposed to it; as much so, perhaps, as any

generation in the history of the world. Within the last thirty

years the great wave of spiritualistic or idealistic thought ...

has been receding and decreasing; and another, which is in the main

driven by materialistic forces, has been gradually rising behind,

vast and threatening. It is but its crest that we at present see;

it is but a certain vague shaking produced by it that we at present

feel; but we shall probably soon enough fail not both to see and

feel it fully and distinctly[4].'

Such being the present importance of Materialism, I shall devote the

present chapter to a consideration of this theory. Each of the points in

the argument for Materialism which I have mentioned above admits, of

course, of elaboration; but I think that their enumeration contains all

that is essential to the theory in question. It now devolves upon us to

inquire whether this theory is adequate to meet the facts.

And here I may as well at once give it as my own opinion that, of

however much service the theory of Materialism may be, up to a certain

point, it can never be accepted by any competent mind as a final

explanation of the facts with which it has to deal. Unquestionable as

its use may be as a fundamental hypothesis in physiology and medicine,

it is wholly inadequate as a hypothesis in philosophy. That is to say,

so long as there is a constant relation of concomitancy found by

experience to obtain between neural processes and mental processes, so

long no harm can accrue to physical science by assuming, for its own

purposes, that this relation is a causal one. But as soon as the

question concerning the validity of this assumption is raised into the

region of philosophy, it receives the answer that the assumption cannot

be allowed to pass. For where the question becomes one not as to the

_fact_ of the association but as to its _nature_, philosophy, which must

have regard to the facts of mind no less than to those of matter, must

pronounce that the hypothesis is untenable; for the hypothesis of this

association being one of causality acting from neurosis to psychosis,

cannot be accepted without doing violence, not merely to our faculty of

reason, but to our very idea of causation itself.

A very small amount of thinking is enough to show that what I call my

knowledge of the external world, is merely a knowledge of my own mental

modifications. A step further and I find that my idea of causation as a

principle in the external world is derived from my knowledge of this

principle in the internal world. For I find that my idea of force and

energy in the external world is a mere projection of the idea which I

have of effort within the region of my own consciousness; and therefore

my only idea of causation is that which is originally derived from the

experience which I have of this principle as obtaining among my own

mental modifications.

If once we see plainly that the idea of causation is derived from

within, and that what we call the evidence of physical causation is

really the evidence of mental modifications following one another in a

definite sequence, we shall then clearly see, not merely that we have no

evidence, but that we _can have_ no evidence of causation as proceeding

from object to subject. However cogent the evidence may appear at first

sight to be, it is found to vanish like a cloud as soon as it is exposed

to the light of adequate contemplation. In the very act of thinking the

evidence, we are virtually denying its possibility as evidence; for as

evidence it appeals only to the mind, and since the mind can only know

its own sequences, the evidence must be presenting to the mind an

account of its own modifications; from the mere fact, therefore, of its

being accepted as thinkable, the evidence is proved to be illusory.

To uneducated men it appears an indisputable fact of 'common sense' that

the colour of a flower exists as perceived in the flower, apart from any

relation to the percipient mind. A physiologist has gone further into

the thicket of things, and finds that the way is not so simple as this.

He regards the quality of colour as necessarily related to the faculty

of visual perception; does not suppose that the colour exists _as such_

in the flower, but thinks of the something there as a certain order of

vibrations which, when brought into relation with consciousness through

the medium of certain nerves, gives rise to the perception experienced;

and in order to account for the translation into visual feeling of an

event so unlike that feeling as is the process taking place in the

flower, physiologists have recourse to an elaborate theory, such as that

of Helmholtz or Hering. In other words, physiologists here fully

recognize that colour, or any other thing perceived, only exists _as

perceived_ in virtue of a subjective element blending with an objective;

the thing _as perceived_ is recognized as having no existence apart from

its relation to a percipient mind. Now, although physiologists are at

one with the philosophers thus far, it is to be feared that very

frequently they are in the same position as the above-mentioned

'uneducated men,' when it becomes needful to press still further into

the thicket. For after having distinguished the necessity of recognizing

a mind-element in any possible theory of perception, they forthwith

proceed to disregard this element when passing from the ground of

perception to that of thought. Although the ideas of matter, motion,

causation, and so on, are themselves as much the offspring of a thinking

mind, with its environment, as the perception of colour is a conceiving

of the percipient mind, with _its_ environment, these ideas are

inconsistently supposed to stand for equivalent realities of the

external world--to truly represent things that are virtually independent

of any necessary relation to mind. Or, as the case has recently been

well put by Principal Caird:

'You cannot get mind as an ultimate product of matter, for in the

very attempt to do so you have already begun with mind. The

easiest step of any such inquiry involves categories of thought,

and it is in terms of thought that the very problem you are

investigating can be so much as stated. You cannot start in your

investigations with a bare, self-identical, objective fact,

stripped of every ideal element or contribution from thought. The

least and lowest part of outward observation is not an independent

entity--fact _minus_ mind, and out of which mind may, somewhere or

other, be seen to emerge; but it is fact or object as it appears to

an observing mind, in the medium of thought, having mind or thought

as an inseparable factor of it. Whether there be such a thing as an

absolute world outside of thought, whether there be such things as

matter and material atoms existing in themselves before any mind

begins to perceive or think about them, is not the question before

us. If it were possible to conceive of such atoms, at any rate you,

before you begin to make anything of them, must think them; and you

can never, by thinking about atoms, prove that there is no such

thing as thought other than as an ultimate product of atoms. Before

you could reach thought or mind as a last result you must needs

eliminate from it the data of the problem with which you start, and

that you can never do, any more than you can stand on your own

shoulders or outstrip your own shadow.... In one word, to

constitute the reality of the outward world--to make possible the

minimum of knowledge, nay, the very existence for us of molecules

and atoms--you must needs presuppose that thought or thinking self,

which some would persuade us is to be educed or evolved from

them.... To make thought a function of matter is thus, simply, to

make thought a function of itself[5].'

From this reasoning there can be no escape; and it is more rational for

a man to believe that colour exists as such in a flower than, after

having plainly seen that such cannot be the case, forthwith to

disregard the teaching of this analogy, and to imagine that any apparent

evidence of mind as a result of matter or motion can possibly be

entertained as real evidence.

Remembering, then, that from the nature of this particular case it is as

impossible for mind to prove its own causation as it is for water to

rise above its source, it may still be well, for the sake of further

argument, to sink this general consideration, and to regard such

spurious evidence of causation as is presented by Materialism, without

prejudice arising from its being _prima facie_ inadmissible.

Materialists, as already observed, are fond of saying that the evidence

of causation from neurosis to psychosis is as good as such evidence can

be proved to be in any other case. Now, quite apart from the general

considerations just adduced to show that from the peculiar nature of

this case there can here be no such evidence at all--quite apart from

this, and treating the problem on the lower ground of the supposed

analogy, it may be clearly shown that the statement is untrue. For a

little thought will show that in point of fact the only resemblance

between this supposed case of causation and all other cases of

recognized causation, consists in the invariability of the correlation

between cerebral processes and mental processes; in all other points the

analogy fails. For in all cases of recognized causation there is a

perceived _connexion_ between the cause and the effect; the antecedents

are physical, and the consequents are physical. But in the case before

us there is no perceived, or even conceivable, connexion between the

cause and the effect; for the causes are supposed to be physical and the

effects mental. And the antithesis thus posited is alone sufficient to

separate _toto coelo_ the case of causation supposed from that of all

cases of causation recognized. From the singularly clear and

well-balanced statement of this subject given by Professor Allman in his

Presidential Address before the British Association, I may here fitly

quote the following:--

'If we could see any analogy between thought and any one of the

admitted phenomena of matter, we should be justified in the first

of these conclusions (i. e. that of Materialism) as the simplest,

and as affording a hypothesis most in accordance with the

comprehensiveness of natural laws; but between thought and the

physical phenomena of matter there is not only no analogy, but no

conceivable analogy; and the obvious and continuous path which we

have hitherto followed up in our reasonings from the phenomena of

lifeless matter through those of living matter here comes suddenly

to an end. The chasm between unconscious life and thought is deep

and impassable, and no transitional phenomena can be found by

which, as by a bridge, we may span it over[6].'

And, not unduly to multiply quotations, I shall only adduce one more

from another of the few eminent men of science who have seen their way

clearly in this matter, and have expressed what they have seen in

language as clear as their vision. Professor Tyndall writes:--

'The passage from the physics of the brain to the corresponding

facts of consciousness is unthinkable. Granted that a definite

thought and a definite molecular action in the brain occur

simultaneously, we do not possess the intellectual organ, nor

apparently any rudiment of the organ, which would enable us to

pass, by a process of reasoning, from the one phenomenon to the

other. They appear together but we do not know why. Were our minds

and senses so expanded, strengthened, and illuminated, as to enable

us to see and feel the very molecules of the brain; were we capable

of following all their motions, all their groupings, all their

electrical discharges, if such there be; and were we intimately

acquainted with the corresponding states of thought and feeling, we

should be as far as ever from the solution of the problem. How are

these physical processes connected with the facts of consciousness?

The chasm between the two classes of phenomena would still remain

intellectually impassable[7].'

Next, in all cases of recognized causation there is a perceived

_equivalency_ between cause and effect, such equivalency belonging to

the very essence of that in which we conceive causation to consist. But

as between matter and motion on the one side, and feeling and thought on

the other, there can be no such equivalency conceivable. That no such

equivalency is conceivable may be rendered apparent on grounds of

Materialism itself. For Materialism is bound to accept the fundamental

doctrine of modern physics--that, viz. as to the conservation of

energy--and therefore it becomes evident that unless we assimilate

thought with energy, there is no possibility of a causal relation, or a

relation of equivalency, as obtaining between the one and the other.

For however little we may know about brain-dynamics, materialists, at

least, must take it for granted that in every process of cerebration the

matter and force concerned are indestructible quantities, and therefore

that all their possible equations are fully satisfied, could we but

follow them out. Howsoever complex we may suppose the flux and reflux of

forces to be within the structure of a living brain, it is no more

possible for any one of the forces concerned to escape from brain to

mind, than it would be for such an escape to occur in a steam-engine or

a watch; the doctrine of the conservation of energy forms an insuperable

bar to the supposition that any equation in the region of physics can be

left unsatisfied, in order to pass over and satisfy some other equation

in the region of psychics.

Of course in saying this I am aware that some of the more clear-sighted

of the materialists have plainly perceived this difficulty in all its

magnitude, and so have felt that unless it can be met, any theory of

Materialism must necessarily contain a radical contradiction of

principles. Some few materialists have therefore sought to meet the

difficulty in the only way it can be met, viz. by boldly asserting the

possibility of thought and energy being transmutable. On this view

thought becomes a mode of motion, and takes its rank among the forces as

identical in nature with heat, light, electricity, and the rest. But

this view is also inherently impossible. For suppose, as a matter of

argument, that physiologists should discover a mechanical equivalent of

thought, so that we might estimate the value of a calculation in thermal

units, or the 'labour of love' in foot-pounds: still we should not be

out of our difficulties; we should only have to cut a twist of flax to

find a lock of iron. For by thus assimilating thought with energy, we

should in no wise have explained the fundamental antithesis between

subject and object. The fact would remain, if possible, more

unaccountable than ever, that mind should present absolutely no point of

real analogy with motion. Involved with the essential idea of motion is

the idea of extension; suppress the latter and the former must

necessarily vanish, for motion only means transition in space of

something itself extended. But thought, as far as we can possibly know

it, is known and distinguished by the very peculiarity of not having

extension. Therefore, even if we were to find a mechanical equivalent of

thought, thought would still not be proved a mode of motion. On the

contrary, what would be proved would be that, in becoming transformed

into thought, energy had ceased to be energy; in passing out of its

relation to space it would cease to exist as energy, and if it again

passed into that relation it would only be by starting _de novo_ on a

new course of history. Therefore the proof that thought has a mechanical

equivalent would simply amount to the proof, not that thought _is_

energy, but that thought _destroys_ energy. And if Materialism were to

prove this, Materialism would commit suicide. For if once it were

proved that the relation of energy to thought is such that thought is

able to absorb or temporarily to annihilate energy, the whole argument

of Materialism would be inverted, and whatever evidence there is of

causation as between mind and matter would become available in all its

force on the side of Spiritualism. This seems plain, for if it even were

conceivable--which most distinctly it is not--that a motor could ever

become a motive, and so pass from the sphere of dynamics into the sphere

of consciousness, the fact would go to prove, not that the motor was the

cause of the motive, but rather that the motive was the cause of

destroying the motor; so that at that point the otherwise unbroken chain

of physical sequences was interrupted by the motive striking in upon it,

and in virtue of the mysterious power supposed to have been proved by

physiology, cancelling the motor, so allowing the nerve-centre to act as

determined by the motive.

Of course I wish it to be understood that I believe we are here dealing

with what I may call, in perhaps suitably contradictory terms,

inconceivable conceptions. But let it be remembered that I am not

responsible for this ambiguity; I am only showing what must be the

necessary outcome of analysis if we begin by endeavouring phenomenally

to unite the most antithetical of elements--mind and motion.

Materialism, at least, will not be the gainer should it ever be proved

that in the complex operations of the brain a unique exception occurs

to the otherwise universal law of the conservation of energy in space.

We may, therefore, quit the suggestion that the difficulty experienced

by Materialism of showing an equivalency between neurosis and psychosis

can ever be met by assuming that some day mental processes may admit of

being expressed in terms of physical. But before leaving this difficulty

with regard to equivalency, I may mention one other point that seems to

me of importance in connexion with it. I have already said that if we

suppose causation to proceed from brain to mind, we must suppose this

essential requirement of equivalency between the cerebral causes and the

mental effects to be satisfied somewhere.

But where are we to say that it is satisfied? Even if we suppose that

thought has a mechanical equivalent, and that causation proceeds in the

direction from energy to thought, still, when we have regard to the

supposed effects, we find that even yet they bear no kind of equivalency

to their supposed causes. The brain of a Shakespeare probably did not,

as a system, exhibit so much energy as does the brain of an elephant;

and the cerebral operations of a Darwin may not have had a very

perceptibly larger mechanical equivalent than those of a banker's clerk.

Yet in the world of thought the difference between our estimate of the

results, or 'work done,' in these cases is such as to drive all ideas of

equivalency to the winds. Doubtless, a materialist will answer that it

is not fair to take our estimate of 'work done' in the world of mind as

the real equivalent of the energy supposed to have passed over from the

world of motion, seeing that our estimate is based, not on the

quantitative amount of thought produced, but rather on its qualitative

character with reference to the social requirements of the race. But to

this it is enough to answer that we have no means of gauging the

quantity of thought produced other than by having regard to _its_

effects in the world of mind, and this we cannot do except by having

regard to its qualitative character. Many a man, for instance, must have

consumed more than a thousand times the brain-substance and brain-energy

that Shelley expended over his 'Ode to a Skylark,' and yet as a result

have produced an utterly worthless poem. Now, in what way are we to

estimate the 'work done' in two such cases, except by looking to the

relative effects produced in the only region where they are produced,

viz. in the region of mind? Yet, when we do so estimate them, what

becomes of the evidence of equivalency between the physical causes and

the psychical effects?

Now if thus, whether or not we try to form an estimate, it is impossible

to show any semblance of equivalency between the supposed causes and the

alleged effects, how can any one be found to say that the evidence of

causation is here as valid as it is in any other case? The truth rather

is that the alleged effects stand out of every relation to the supposed

causes, with the exception only of being associated in time.

There still remains one other enormous difficulty in the way of the

theory of Materialism; it necessarily embodies the theory of _conscious

automatism_, and is therefore called upon to explain why consciousness

and thought have ever appeared upon the scene of things at all. That

this is the necessary position of Materialism is easily proved as

follows. We have already seen that Materialism would commit suicide by

supposing that energy could be transmuted into thought, for this would

amount to nothing short of supposing the destruction of energy as such;

and to suppose energy thus destructible would be to open wide the door

of spiritualism. Materialism, therefore, is logically bound to argue in

this way: We cannot conceive of a conscious idea, or mental change, as

in any way affecting the course of a cerebral reflex, or material

change; while, on the other hand, our knowledge of the conservation of

energy teaches us as an axiom that the cerebral changes must determine

each other in their sequence as in a continuous series. Nowhere can we

suppose the physical process to be interrupted or diverted by the

psychical process; and therefore we must conclude that thought and

volition really play no part whatever in determining action. Thoughts

and feelings are but indices which show in the mirror of the mind

certain changes that are proceeding in the matter of the brain, and are

as inefficient in influencing those changes as the shadow of a cloud is

powerless to direct the movements of that of which it is the shadow.

But when Materialism reaches, in a clear and articulate manner, this

inference as a conclusion necessary from its premises, it becomes

opposed at once to common sense and to the requirements of methodical

reason. It becomes opposed to common sense because we all feel it is

practically impossible to believe that the world would now have been

exactly what it is even if consciousness, thought, and volition had

never appeared upon the scene--that railway trains would have been

running filled with mindless passengers, or that telephones would have

been invented by brains that could not think to speak to ears that could

not hear. And the conclusion is opposed to the requirements of

methodical reason, because reason to be methodical is bound to have an

answer to the question that immediately arises from the conclusion. This

question simply is, Why have consciousness, thought, and volition ever

been called into existence; and why are they related, as they are

related, to cerebral action? Materialism, by here undertaking to prove

that these things stand uselessly isolated from all other things, is

bound to show some reason why they ever came to be, and to be what they

are. For observe, it is not merely that these things exist in a supposed

unnecessary relation to all other things; the fact to be explained is

that they exist in a most intimately woven and invariable connexion with

certain highly complex forms of organic structure and certain highly

peculiar distributions of physical force. Yet these unique and

extraordinary things are supposed by automatism to be always results and

never causes; in the theatre of things they are supposed to be always

spectators and never actors; in the laboratory of life they are supposed

to be always by-products; and therefore in the order of nature they are

supposed to have no _raison d'etre_. Such a state of matters would be

accountable enough if the stream of mental changes were but partly,

occasionally, and imperfectly associated with the stream of material

changes; but as the association is so minute, invariable, and precise,

the hypothesis of the association being merely accidental, or _not

requiring explanation_, becomes, at the bar of methodical reasoning,

self-convicted of absurdity.

The state of the case, then, simply is that two distinct facts stand to

be explained by the theory of conscious automatism--first, why psychosis

should ever have been developed as a mysterious appendage to neurosis;

and, secondly, why the association between these things should be so

intimate and precise. Assuredly, on the principles of evolution, which

materialists at least cannot afford to disregard, it would be a wholly

anomalous fact that so wide and general a class of phenomena as those of

mind should have become developed in constantly ascending degrees

throughout the animal kingdom, if they are entirely without use to

animals. If psychosis is, as supposed, a function of neurosis, the

doctrine of natural selection alone would forbid us to imagine that this

function differs from all other functions in being itself functionless.

If it would be detrimental to the theory of natural selection that any

one isolated structure--such as the tail of a rattlesnake--should be

adapted to perform a function useless to the animal possessing it, how

utterly destructive of that theory would be the fact that all the

phenomena of mind have been elaborated as functions of nerve-tissue

without any one of them ever having been of any use either to the

individual or to the species. And the difficulty that thus arises is

magnified without limit when we remember that the phenomena of mind are

invariable in their association with cerebral structure, grade for

grade, and process for process.

It is of no argumentative use to point to the fact that many adaptive

movements in animals are performed by nerve-centres apart from any

association with consciousness or volition, because all the facts on

this head go to prove that consciousness and volition come in most

suggestively just where adaptive movements begin to grow varied and

complex, and then continue to develop with a proportional reference to

the growing variety and complexity of these movements. The facts,

therefore, irresistibly lead to the conclusion (if we argue here as we

should in the case of any other function) that consciousness and

volition are functions of nerve-tissue super-added to its previous

functions, in order to meet new and more complex demands on its powers

of adaptation.

Neither is it of any argumentative use to point to the fact that

adaptive actions which originally are performed with conscious volition

may by practice come to be performed without conscious volition. For it

is certain that no adaptive action of quite a novel kind is ever

performed from the first without consciousness of its performance, and

therefore, although it is true that by repetition its performance may

become mechanical or unconscious, this does not prove that consciousness

was without use in producing the adaptive action. It only proves that

after a nervous mechanism has been elaborated by the help of

consciousness, consciousness may be withdrawn and leave the finished

mechanism to work alone; the structure having been completed, the

scaffolding necessary to its completion may be removed.

But passing over this difficulty which the theory of conscious

automatism seems bound to encounter in its collision with the theory of

natural selection, the most insuperable of all its difficulties arises

from the bare fact, which it cannot explain, that conscious intelligence

exists, and exists in the most intimate relation with one peculiar kind

of material structure. For automatists must concede that the evidence

of causation in the region of mind is at least as cogent as it is in the

region of matter, seeing that the whole science of psychology is only

rendered possible as a science by the fundamental fact of observation

that mental antecedents determine mental consequents. Therefore, if we

call a physical sequence _A, B, C_, and a mental sequence _a, b, c_

automatists have to explain, not merely why there should be such a thing

as a mental sequence at all, but also why the sequence _a, b, c_ should

always proceed, link for link, with the sequence _A, B, C_. It clearly

is no answer to say that the sequence _A, B, C_ implies the successive

activity of certain definite nerve-centres _A', B', C'_ which have for

their subjective effects the sequence _a, b, c_ so that whenever the

sequence _A, B, C_ occurs the sequence _a, b, c_ must likewise occur.

This is no answer, because it merely restates the hypothesis of

automatism, and begs the whole question to be discussed. What methodical

reason demands as an answer is simply why the sequence _A, B, C_ even

though we freely grant it due to the successive activity of certain

definite nerve-centres, should be attended by the sequence _a, b, c_.

Reason perceives clearly enough that the sequence _a, b, c_ belongs to a

wholly different category from the sequence _A, B, C_ the one being

immediately known as a process taking place in a something which is

without extension or physical properties of any kind, and the other

taking place in a something which when, translated by the previous

something, we recognize as having extension and the other antithetical

properties which we class together as physical. There would of course be

no difficulty if the sequence _A, B, C_ continued through any amount of

complexity in the same conceivable category of being; so that there

would be nothing actually inconceivable in cerebral sequence--changes

running through _D, E, F_, &c., to an extent sufficient to cause

unconscious automatism of any degree of complexity. But that which does

require explanation from automatists is why automatism should have

become associated with consciousness, and this so intimately that every

change in the sequence _A, B, C_, &c., is accompanied by a particular

and corresponding change in the sequence _a, b, c_, &c. Thus, to take a

definite illustration, if on seeing the sun I think of a paper on solar

physics, and from this pass to thinking of Mr. Norman Lockyer, and from

this to speculating on the probability of certain supposed elements

being really compounds, there is here a definite causal connexion in the

sequence of my _thoughts_. But it is the last extravagance of absurdity

to tell me that the accompanying causal sequences going on in my brain

happen to have exactly corresponded to the sequences which were taking

place in the mind, the two trains of sequences being each definite and

coherent in themselves, and yet each proceeding link for link in lines

parallel with the other. Without some theory of pre-established

harmony--which, of course, it is no part of automatism to entertain--it

would, on the doctrine of chances alone, be impossible to suppose that

the causal sequences in the brain always happen to be just those which,

by running link for link with another set of causal sequences taking

place in the mind, enable both the series to be definite and coherent in

themselves. Therefore, before reason can allow the theory of automatism

to pass, it must be told how this wonderful fact of parallelism is to be

explained. There must be _some_ connexion between the intrinsically

coherent series _A, B, C_ and the no less intrinsically coherent

sequence _a, b, c_, which may be taken as an explanation why they

coincide each to each. What is this connexion? We do not know; but we

have now seen that, whatever it is, it cannot be an ordinary causal

connexion--first, because the doctrine of the conservation of energy

makes it incumbent on us to believe that the procession of physical

cause and effect is complete within the region of brain--a closed

circle, as it were, from which no energy can, without argumentative

suicide, be supposed to escape into the region of mind; and next,

because, even were this difficulty disregarded, it is unaccountable that

the causative influence (whatever it is supposed to be), which passes

over from the region of physics into that of psychics, should be such as

to render the psychical series coherent in itself, when on the physical

side the series must be determined by purely physical conditions,

having no reference whatsoever to psychical requirements.

Thus it is argumentatively impossible for Materialism to elude the

necessity of explaining the kind of connexion which it supposes to

subsist between neurosis and psychosis; and forasmuch as the above

considerations clearly show this connexion cannot be accepted as one of

ordinary causality without some answer being given to the questions

which reason has to ask, Materialism must be ruled out of court if she

fails to respond to the demand. But it is no less clearly impossible

that she can respond to the demand, and therefore at the bar of

Philosophy Materialism must be pronounced, for this as well as for the

reasons previously cited, conspicuously inadequate to account for the

facts.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 4: Professor Flint, _Antitheistic Theories_, p. 99.]

[Footnote 5: _Philosophy of Religion_, pp. 95, 99, and 101.]

[Footnote 6: British Association Report, 1879, p. 28.]

[Footnote 7: British Association Report, 1868. Trans. of Sections, p.

5.]

Mind and Motion and Monism · 第 2 / 6 章