To evade the charge of Materialism, said Dr. Engledue, we (Phrenologists) content ourselves with stating that the immaterial makes use of the material to show forth its powers. What is the result of 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 connexion 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 matter 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. [46:1]
The eccentric Count de Caylus, when on his death-bed, was visited by some near relations and a pious Bishop, who hoped that under such trying circumstances 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, 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 friends, you must allow me to know best.’
If people in general had one tenth the good sense of this impious Count, the fooleries of spiritualism would at once give place to the philosophy of Materialism; and none would waste time in talking or writing about nonentities. All would know that what theologians call sometimes spirit, sometimes soul, and sometimes mind, is an imaginary existence. All would know that the terms immaterial something, do in very truth mean nothing. Count de Caylus died as became a man convinced that soul is not an entity, and that upon the dissolution of our ‘earthly tabernacle,’ the particles composing it cease to perform vital functions, and return to the shoreless ocean of Eternal Being. Pietists may be shocked by such nonchalance in the face of their ’grim monster,’ but philosophers will admire an indifference