proven, so far as regards the transmission of talent, though genius can no more be made to order than the diamond can be manufactured. higher life which is the emanation of the spiritual among ourselves. For just as surely as we can trace the lineaments of past generations in our infant's face, so In Mr. Edward Bellamy's book, Look- also we can not infrequently discern physing Backward, occur these words: "Our iological or mental inheritances, the legwomen have risen to the full height of acies of some forgotten ancestor that rise their responsibilities as the wardens of the up to remind us of their past sins or sufferworld to come, to whose keeping the keys ings. This is a truth we are too apt to of the future are confided. Their feeling overlook or put aside as one of the mysof duty in this respect amounts to a sense teries of creation far beyond our finite in'of religious consecration. It is a cult in telligence. But women must learn to which they educate their daughters from think differently about the function of ma'childhood." And again: "Over the un- ternity. Instead of regarding it, as too 'born our power is that of God, and our re- many do, as a burden and a trouble to be 'sponsibilities like His toward us. As we avoided by every possible means, legitiacquit ourselves toward them, so let Him mate or otherwise, it should be considered deal with us. "" In these days, when the as one of the most ennobling powers beinstitution of marriage bids fair to be stowed upon the sex. But just as no shaken to its very foundations, it is, per- author can turn out good work consecuhaps, well to call attention to the fact that, tively and continuously, so no mother if its responsibilities were undertaken in a ought to be expected to bring a large famdifferent spirit, the results might also be ily into the world. Quality should be redifferent. It is because these words of garded before quantity. Of course, in Mr. Bellamy's so entirely coincide with these matters, communities must be a law my own views, and because, if I may ven- unto themselves, which is very difficult in ture to say so, my own experiences and the slow growth of public opinion-the observations have to a large extent con- only possible standard. Consider for one firmed these views, that I have dared, moment how differently women would view though not, I hope, without the diffidence motherhood if they knew they would not which a woman must feel, to write a few be expected to go on bearing children all lines on this subject. The enormous value their lives. Then they would not be cross to future generations of our practice and and weary, and irritable at a time when precept in these matters may, perhaps, be such states of feeling are likely to produce accepted as a sufficient excuse for ventur- saddening results, because their nerves and ing upon delicate ground. The question physical powers would not be overwrought is one of far greater importance than many or unstrung. They would rightly regard which now engage the attention of think- their function as one of almost regal iming women, and though I entirely sympa- portance, of such high value to the race thize with every movement made toward that they would not dare to imperil its futheir emancipation, which I regard as the ture well-being by an impure thought, an most onward movement of the century, I angry word, a passionate impulse. desire to interest the mothers, and espe"Happy he with such a mother! cially the young mothers, of the race in a question of mental evolution, where they may assist Nature almost as much perhaps as does the gardener in the development of his vegetable creations. It has lately been said that one of the features of the future may be an enormously improved morality, that our present views on morals are only as the stem to the full flower. One way of reaching so desirable a consummation would be by realizing the sense of a new relationship toward the children we bring into the world. They owe us life, but they ought to owe us in a far higher degree than they often do that Faith in womankind beats with his blood, Have any of my readers ever studied those registered vibrations of sound exhibited by the Royal Society* at some of their conversaziones, and of which Mrs. Ward's voice-figures are further illustrations? If so, they will remember the gracefully curved convolutions of delicate thread-like lines which, while tracing out apparently endless labyrinths of form, final * Of N. S. Wales, where this article was written. ly result in the presentation of a perfectly beautiful figure. Unknown, because unseen, these graceful shapes (more beautiful as the results of harmony than of discord) have floated through space for untold ages, but have now taken upon them selves form and outline, and been made palpable to the grossness of our understanding. Science acts the part of the magic ring of Gyges, and opens our eyes to revelations of whose existence we were ignorant. Again, by means of the phonograph we obtain a registration of sounds long passed away, but which may be reproduced at any future time. Our careless utterances, equally with our most solemn words, broken by deepest emotion, may rise up to confront us, or be reawakened in the ears of future generations. These marvels of science seem to indicate that things heretofore deemed too impalpable or too trivial for record may nevertheless preserve their identity through a series of ages. Can we doubt that the same sort of record is going on within ourselves, in the telegraphy that exists between our brains and all other parts of us, and which, impressed upon our being, makes us what we are. What is the brain of the mother but a camera or phonograph, imprinting, as upon a sensitive plate, the vibrations that may help to form the intelligence yet unborn. But whereas the scientific apparatus can only reflect what is presented to it, the human mechanism has the power of transmuting into fresher loveliness or degrading to lower depths the visions of the seer. The organism which is quick to suffer, or slow to feel, registers its impressions, be they few or be they many, the result harmony or discord, according to the nature of the original impressions. The vibrations of the soul that quickens into new emotion at every aspect of the human experience must surely differ enormously from those of the stolid nature which suffers dumbly, or enjoys grossly, and knows not the inarticulate longings of the -soul that struggles for expression in some outward form-it knows not why. The thoughts, the pleasures, the delights, that stir the mortal frame of the young mother, what are they but ministers in the sacred work of inspiring the uncreated mind? Who knows how her subtle fancy, brooding over the intellect of some master mind, or revelling in the wealth of imagination 66 which is the legacy of another, may not thus kindle the spark which shall leap to light in the career of some future Darwin, Faraday, Byron, or Goethe? Or when, with the sense of gladness that comes from the appreciation of all that is beautiful, she drinks in the loveliness of created Nature in some wild woodland scene, or stands before the canvas which the hand of a master has endowed with life, or in the thoughts that breathe and words that burn' recognizes the hero of a bygone or a present age, with whose spirit she is conscious of intellectual kinship-who can say that in hours of exaltation such as these something of the heroic or the ideal is not again born into the world? Those who believe in the immortality of beauty and of goodness will have no difficulty in adding this seeming miracle to their creed. The ancients, quicker than ourselves to recognize something of this truth, furnished the rooms of their women with beautiful statues and pictures; but this is only an outward and visible sign of the higher doctrine that I would here inculcate. For beauty of form may result from the harmony of an entire and perfect human love, but the beauty of the soul is in the woman's gift far more than she can imagine. And although none can predicate results, since sudden and unexpected reversions will sometimes develop themselves from finest issues, and across the bluest heaven of love and tenderness spread wide its clouds of doubt and fear, yet since Nature, always beneficent, shows clearly in the progress of the race her tendency to throw off deformities and disease, be it ours to become fellow helpers with her in her great work. If women would, at a time when physical exertion is more or less distasteful to them, make a rule of cultivating their mental powers to their fullest capacity, they would attain results beyond their wildest hopes. Besides this the development of any special gift should be attended to with increased care. Music, reading, writing, drawing, and painting will not do half the damage to health that is caused by dancing, or excitement, or temper. The former, too, can be pursued without fatigue, and can be attended to better when there are fewer social distractions to be enjoyed. Why should not these periods be made seasons of retreat in the seclusion of our own homes, where, instead of cultivating, as our religious sis 6 to ters do, one form of emotion, we might regard the highest possible development of our powers as a sacred duty, the neglect or fulfilment of which involved the most tremendous issues. For, after all, what greater boon can we desire than to know that we have, in some measure, contributed toward the happiness or success of those who come after us, and who may be able to make the world brighter or better for those with whom they live. To help grow a soul" is surely as great a work as to save it but for the thousands who regard the one as the highest form of duty, who thinks for a moment of the other? It is recorded that on the tomb of Martha Washington are only inscribed these few words: Here lies the mother of George Washington." It was her title to fame, and worth more in her eyes than a patent of nobility. Few women are without ambition, and that of the most sacred kind, the ambition which is content to merge itself in another's gain or greatness. "Who rocks the cradle rules the world" is an old saying, but we would read it in a new light, and not only rule the future generations by ties of love and respect, but by the stronger link that binds together those whose ideals are the same and who strive together to the same ends. There have been writers who deem this form of immortality the only one in consonance with known possibilities, a saddening creed, no doubt, yet at least such immortality is within the reach of all. And while cultivating the mental faculties, we must not forget that those of the moral nature must be equally regarded. Be sure that the abnegation of self will meet its due reward, as well as will purity, loyalty, and truth. "Whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, any praise, think on these things." It is a law of Nature, never to be forgotten, that nowhere in her domains can we receive without giving. The most fertile soil will refuse its yield without a corresponding return of water or manure. Equally true is the converse that we cannot give without receiving, often far more than our due. Can we conceive of a richer reward for self-denial or study, than to watch the unfolding of a young life which turns toward morality, and virtue, and culture, as the flowers do toward the sun-a life which is not handicapped, as too many are, by the inheritance of the accumulated vices of past ancestors? In these days of crumbling creeds and partial truths, we may have to give up many of those props which have helped to sustain the faith and hope of past generations, because we dare not retain that which we cannot believe to be true. But that some are born into the world oppressed with the sins of their forefathers is theology as well as common sense, and the sins of the fathers are no less surely visited upon their children now than in those days when, "in the darkness and the clouds" of Mount Sinai, this truth was first revealed. The remedy lies in our own hands, and it rests with the mothers of the race to terminate, or at least to turn aside, some of the issues involved. It is a grander privilege than we know, to be able thus to contribute something toward the progress of mankind, by the evolution of the higher forms of humanity, and a severe repression of all that is lowest in the type.-Westminster Review. HYPNOTISM IN RELATION TO CRIME AND THE MEDICAL FACULTY. BY A. TAYLOR INNES. THE scientific discussion of Hypnotism or Mesmerism, which has for some years passed in a full wave over the Continent, has at last broken on our shores. Among the many resulting suggestions, I observe one constantly put forward. It is said that hypnotism is full of risks, not only in the region of health, but in that of crime; that its practice should not be allowed to remain in the hands of persons who are ig norant and unauthorized; and that it should be at once placed under legal restrictions and confided to the medical profession alone. It is, perhaps, time that this proposal should be looked at critically; and rather from the side of another profession, though, as I hope, equally in the public interest. That hynotism opens of crime is undoubted. many possibilities It does so, in the first place, as a mere state of passivity. If the human race had never known what it was to fall asleep, one could easily imagine (following the suggestion of Blanco White's sonnet on Night) with what wellfounded alarm we should regard the first approach even of ordinary slumber of sleep, with all its death-like helplessness and exposure to assault. Well, hypnotism presents us with a form of sleep, or of lethargy, or, at least, of passivity; and in all these forms it leaves the subject with out defence against personal outrage. But the hypnotic sleep is characteristically the sleep, not of lethargy, but of somnambulism. It is active rather than passive; and though the activity is of the imaginative rather than of the reasoning faculties, it often reaches a high degree of exaltation. But the peculiarity of this form of somnambulism is that it is absolutely under the control of suggestion from without. The hypnotizer, or any other who puts himself into relation with the subject, can make him believe, or feel, or do, anything that is suggested to him. Everything presented to the subject's fancy becomes more or less a hallucination; and it is all inspired and guided from the outside. Here is a new danger, to which ordinary sleep, or even somnambulism, is not exposed; for I do not suppose that it would be easy to procure from a somnambulist a check for ten thousand francs, as a hypnotist, who was sentenced the other day to penal servitude in Paris, easily did from his patient. But a man in a completely hypnotic state at once obeys the suggestion to what thus injures himself, or even to what, if the actor was under his own control, we should all call a crime. And these risks are more alarming, because the patient does not usually remember on awakening what happened during the sleep. At all events, he forgets it when he is ordered to do so. The representatives of the best known foreign school of hypnotism, the Salpêtrière of Paris, tell us :*"The oblivion of what has occurred is complete when the experimenter has taken care to tell the subject that he will remember absolutely nothing. A suggestion will destroy the subject's recollection of all that has happened to her during hypnosis." And not only does he or she forget what *"Animal Magnetism." By Binet and Féré. London. 1887. Pp. 366, 367. has happened; they frequently remember, when ordered to do so, what has never happened at all. The hallucination impressed upon them while being hypnotized may thus be made permanent. The danger of this, even to third parties, is obvious, and is pointed out by the same authors. "If an unlawful or criminal act should be committed on the subject, or in her presence, an accusation might be made against an innocent person, and it would be maintained with the deepest conviction." The criminal possibilities of hypnotism, therefore, affect not only the accuser and the accused, the person upon whom or by whom the criminal act is alleged, but they attack the witness-box too. And all this has come more to the front in consequence of the universal acceptance in recent years of what is called post-hypnotism. Not only is it possible to make a man feel or do, while in the hypnotic sleep, whatever is suggested to him; it is possible to suggest or order him, while he is in that condition, to feel or do something after he has come out of it, and is in his ordinary state. "It is possible to suggest to a subject in a state of somnambulism, fixed ideas, irresistible impulses, which he will obey on awaking with mathematical precision. The danger of criminal suggestions is increased by the fact that, at the will of the experimenter, the act may be accomplished several hours, and even several days, after the date of suggestion." Dr. Albert Moll, of Berlin, in his very careful book recently translated,* says that "the longest post-hypnotic suggestion I have seen was executed at the end of four months; no hint had been given to the subject in the meantime." But he mentions another case, given on excellent medical authority, which was after exactly a year. Some of these were no doubt startling cases, like one recently reported in our newspapers. Dr. Charcot is said to have enjoined upon a gendarme to go to a certain corner of the garden and assassinate the President of the Republic. The man glided away to the spot indicated, made his stab in the bosom of an old tree growing there, and coming back, pale and trembling, confessed the crime. And Dr. Charcot's pupils tell also how they suggested to a subject when asleep that she "Hypnotism." By Albert Moll. London. 1890. should poison X. with a glass of pure water, which was said to contain poison. The patient woke, and without delay offered the glass to X., and invited him to drink by saying, "Is it not a hot day?" "We ordered another subject to steal a pocket-handkerchief from one of the persons present. The subject was hardly awake when she feigned dizziness, and staggering toward X., she fell against him, and hastily snatched his handkerchief." Some day M. X– will be found dead in earnest, and it will be pleaded for the hand which carried the poison or the knife that the act was done under hypnotic influence, and that the unknown inspirer of the deed and not the actor is responsible. When that defence is made, or when one of the many other accusations which hypnotism renders possible is made, a number of difficult questions will arise. But they will arise on a broad basis of well-ascertained facts, common to theorists of half a dozen different schools in Europe, and with which by this time we are or ought to be familiar. We ought to have been so very long ago. I remember the occasion when this was first made plain to me. I was in a little town in the North of Scotland during the college vacation of 1851. The ball was filled with some two hundred people of both sexes and of every age, but all known to each other from childhood. The only stranger was the mesmerist, H. E. Lewis, a graduate of Edinburgh and a pupil of Professor Gregory there. Before he had been in the hall an hour he brought out all the ordinary phenomena. That is, he showed that a large proportion of those present were quite easily put into a state between sleeping and waking, in which every suggestion made to them was accept ed as real by the imagination and senses, so as for the time absolutely to control the will. But on this Saturday night he went farther. Among the sensitive part of the audience was a young lad, named J. M. He was not only in perfect health, but, with his brilliant complexion and golden hair, a model of the Apollo type of youth. All the more astonishing was the contrast when Lewis, after making other suggestions which were instantly obeyed, put a staff into the young fellow's hand and whispered to him that he was an old man. He turned from Apollo into Tithonus before our eyes, the very muscles of his cheeks falling in, and the hue of age overspreading his face as he tottered amid the wondering crowd. But this, too, was in the familiar order of experiment. What followed was new. Just before J. M. wakened, Lewis repeated to him twice over: "At twelve o'clock on Mondayon Monday at midday-wherever you happen to be, you shall go with my compliments to Mr. Kenneth Murray at the bank." The other murmured an assent, but when awakened the next moment he started away in bashful surprise to find himself the centre of so many gazers. As usual in such cases, he had not the least recollection of what had happened before he woke; and when told of his promise he made it very plain that he did not intend to make a fool of himself again on Monday at twelve. I had determined to see out the play, and at that hour I found myself behind some windows which commanded the shop where J. M. was doing his daily work. Several men were in it, but with no serious expectation of seeing the result, as to which some of them were chaffing him. Twelve struck, and before the strokes ended the young fellow seemed to get confused and abstracted. As the last: sound ceased he vaulted over his counter and came out into the street, bareheaded and blushing, and evidently exquisitely uncomfortable. Yet in this state of bashful torture (and not in the least asleep, as he had been on the Saturday night) he walked in the required direction through the assembled gazers of his native town; and when some of them, failing to turn him: back by strong words, went in front and formed a chain with their arms linked to-: gether, he suddenly burst through them, broke into a run, and never slackened his pace till he had delivered the message entrusted to him at the place prescribed. Incidents of this kind have recently come to be accepted as among the regular phenomena. But at that time they were new, and only to be received where there were exceptional opportunities for scrutiny. And the opportunities for scrutiny into this kind of thing are perhaps greater in a quiet rural district, where every one is known to every one, than in the crowded: meetings and platforms of a great city.. Another such opportunity happened about the same time to fried of mine, who is now Principal Miller, of Madras, a C. I. E., and well known as the centre of great ed |