Other thinkers suppose that there is no such division; that the mind is not made up of a variety of organs at all, that it is simple and indivisible. The mouth is so formed that it can perform two very different functions-it can eat and it can speak. There are not two organs, one an eating and the other a speaking organ, but one organ which now eats, now speaks. So some scholars suppose that there is one mind or soul which is absolutely indivisible, but which exerts itself in different ways at different times: it sometimes remembers, sometimes imagines, sometimes loves, sometimes hates, sometimes reasons, sometimes chooses; but it is always the same power which remembers, imagines, hates, loves, reasons, and chooses.

Now, this is a question on which no absolute conclusion can be reached. We cannot analyze the mind as we can analyze a substance in a laboratory, and see what are its constituent parts, and determine whether it has any parts, or is a simple substance. We have only two methods of judging about the mind, and neither of these methods gives us any conclusive answer to the question whether the mind is simple or complex. We can observe the operation of other men's minds by studying its results in action, or in speech which is a kind of action; and we can study the action of our own minds by looking within and seeing what our own thoughts and feelings are. But, in both these cases, we study only the operations, not the mind itself; and neither a study of the results of mental operations in the actions of men and women about us, nor a study of our own mental operations by looking within and trying to ascertain of our self-con、 sciousness how we think and feel, throw any important light on the question whether the mind itself is simple or complex. All that e know about the mind is its operation; all else is theory.

There are some metaphysical and abstract arguments for the opinion that the mind, the I within, that controls the body, what

the Germans call the ego-which is Latin for I—is simple, not complex; that is, one power operating in different ways and doing different things. I am myself inclined to think that the better opinion; but it is not necessary here to go into this question at all, for what we are going to study is not the mind itself, but human nature, that is, the operations of the mind. And there is no doubt that the operations of the mind are complex. There may be, I am inclined to think there is, but one power, which perceives and thinks and feels and wills; but perceiving and thinking and feeling and willing are very different actions, and it is only with the actions that we have to do.

In this book, then, I speak habitually of the different faculties or powers of the mind. The reader must understand that I do not mean by this phraseology to imply that the mind itself is divided into different powers, each with its own peculiar function. But in order to study mental phenomena we must form some classification of them, and must analyze them under different divisions and subdivisions. When, for example, we speak of the faculty of comparison, we do not mean that the mind has one power which compares and observes the relation of things, and can do this and nothing else; but we mean that the mind has a power of observing the relations of things, and this power we call the faculty of comparison. In the same way we might say that the mouth has a faculty of eating and a faculty of speaking and a faculty of singing, without meaning that there are in the mouth three sets of organs, of which one eats, another speaks, and a third sings.

I do not wish to leave the impression that the question whether the mind is simple or complex is one of no special consequence; only that it is not necessary for us o determine it in order to our present plan of study. 1 has an important, though perhaps rather indirect, moral bearing. That bearing may be briefly mentioned here. If a man has

a good ear, but poor eye-sight, we cannot say that his faculties are either good or bad; one faculty is good, the other is bad. Now, if man is made up of a bundle of faculties, some of which are good and the others bad; if, for example, his conscience is strong, but his love and sympathy are weak, we cannot say of him that he is either good or bad; part of him is good and part of him is bad. If, on the other hand, he is a unit, and conscience is simply the man acting in one direction and love is the man acting in another, then we cannot truly say of him that he is good until all his actions are conformed to the divine standard. If, for example, a carpenter has a box of tools containing a chisel of soft iron and very dull, and a plane of finely tempered steel, very sharp, and we ask him what sort of a set of tools he has, he would reply, some of the tools are good and some are poor. But if an apprentice has learned to drive a nail without splitting the wood, but he cannot yet saw a straight line, there is no sense in which we can say he is a good carpenter. He is not a good carpenter until he has learned to do all carpentering operations at least reasonably well. This illustration will give a hint of the argument for the simplicity of the mind, of which I spoke above. When I yield to my anger and speak a bitter word, I am conscious that I have done wrong: not that some thing in me has done wrong, but that the whole I has sinned; and this, perhaps, is what James means when he says that he who has kept the whole law and yet offends in one point is guilty of all. It is the soul that sins, not a faculty in the soul. Thus there is a reason in our consciousness of sin for believing that the soul or mind-the ego, the I-is a unit, not complex or composite. In this book, however, in speaking of mental and moral action, I shall, for convenience' sake, speak of mental faculties, meaning thereby not separate powers, but separate activities of the same power working in different ways.

CHAPTER III.

TRUE AND FALSE MATERIALISM.

It is common, even in the pulpit, to hear the phrase, “Man has a soul;" and it is scarcely possible to avoid embodying this same thought sometimes in the phrase "man's soul," which is only an abbreviation. This phrase, however, expresses a falsehood. It is not true that man has a soul. Man is a soul. It would be more accurate to say that man has a body. We may say that the body has a soul, or that the soul has a body; as we may say that the ship has a captain, or the captain has a ship; but we ought never to forget that the true man is the mental and spiritual; the body is only the instrument which the mental and the spiritual uses.

Still more accurately, however, man, as we see him and have to do with him in this life, is composed, in Paul's language, of body, soul, and spirit. The distinction between these three we must consider hereafter. Here it must be enough to say: 1. That the body is purely physical, as much so as a tree; that it is composed of certain well-known physical elements, and subject to physical laws. 2. That the mind or soul (in Latin the anima, in Greek the pseuche) is that which sees, feels, thinks, and that it is analogous to that which controls the body in the animals, though in man possessing powers vastly superior to those observed in any mere animal. 3. That the spirit (in Latin spiritus, in Greek pneuma) is that which deals with the invisible, believes, reverences, distinguishes between right and wrong, and that there is nothing analogous to it in the animal creation. The body links us to the earth, the mind to the animal creation, the spirit to God.

To understand human nature we must understand the relation which the mind and spirit, that is, the invisible part of man, has to the body, that is, to the physical or material part.

I. It is now well established as a scientific fact that every mental and moral act employs some physical agency and makes a draft upon the physical organization. In fact, every mental action is also partly a material and physical action. We know, for instance, that we see by means of a physical organ, the eye; we hear by means of a physical organ, the ear. The eye does not, however, see; for if the nerve which connects the eye with the brain be cut, though the picture is perfectly painted on the retina of the eye, the person sees nothing. So the ear does not hear; for if the nerve which connects the drum of the ear with the brain be cut, the person hears nothing. The seeing and the hearing take place within us, and the eye and the ear are only the physical instruments by which they are facilitated. The eye no more sees than the telescope; the ear no more hears than the ear trumpet. But both are necessary instruments to seeing and hearing. For aught we know, however, both eye and ear may be destroyed as they are at death, and the power of seeing and hearing possessed by the soul may be improved, not impaired, by the loss of the instruments.

Now as the eye is the instrument of seeing, and the ear of hearing, so the brain is the instrument of thinking and feeling and imagining. Every mental and moral action employs some portion of the brain, as every act of seeing employs the eye, and every act of hearing employs the ear. Not only that, but every such action destroys a part of the brain, and a new brain tissue must be formed to take its place. Every action of the man, physical, mental, or moral, wastes some tissue. The principal physical function of life appears to be carrying off this wasted and exhausted and now useless tissue by various methods of drainage, and sup