this? We have the man of theory and believer in supernaturalism
quarrelling with the man of fact and supporter of Materialism. We have
two parties; the one asserting that man possesses a _spirit_ superadded
to, but not inherent in, the brain--added to it, yet having no necessary
connection with it--producing material changes, yet
immaterial--destitute of any of the known properties of matter--in fact
an _immaterial something_ which in one word means _nothing_, producing
all the cerebral functions of man, yet not localised-not susceptible of
proof; the other party contending that the belief in spiritualism
fetters and ties down physiological investigation--that man's intellect
is prostrated by the domination of metaphysical speculation--that we
have no evidence of the existence of an _essence_, and that organised
mutter is all that is requisite to produce the multitudinous
manifestations of human and brute cerebration.

We rank ourselves with the second party, and conceive that we must cease
speaking of 'the mind,' and discontinue enlisting in our investigations
a spiritual essence, the existence of which cannot be proved, but which
tends to mystify and perplex a question sufficiently clear if we confine
ourselves to the consideration of organised matter--its forms--its
changes--and its aberrations from normal structure. [31:1]

The eccentric Count de Caylus, when on his death-bed, was visited by
some near relation and a pious Bishop, who hoped that under such trying
circumstance he would manifest some concern respecting those 'spiritual'
blessings which, while in health, he had uniformly treated with
contempt. After a long pause he broke silence by saying, _'Ah, my
friends, I see you are anxious about my soul;'_ whereupon they pricked
up their ears with delight; before, however, any reply could be made the
Count added, _'but the fact is I have not got one, and really my good