eeming. They are as much the outcome of
molecular groupings and movements as the figures in a kaleidoscope are
of the groupings and movements of the colored bits of glass. They are
things entirely by the way; and they can as little be considered links
in any chain of causes as can the figure in a kaleidoscope be called the
cause of the figure that succeeds it.

The conclusion, however, is so distasteful to most men, that but few of
them can be brought even to face it, still less to accept it. There is
not a single physicist of eminence--none at least who has spoken
publicly on the moral aspects of life--who has honestly and fairly
considered it, and said plainly whether he accepts it, rejects it, or is
in doubt about it. On the contrary, instead of meeting this question,
they all do their best to avoid it, and to hide it from themselves and
others in a vague haze of mystery. And there is a peculiarity in the
nature of the subject that has made this task an easy one. But the dust
they have raised is not impenetrable, and can, with a little patience,
be laid altogether.

The phenomenon of consciousness is in one way unique. It is the only
phenomenon with which science comes in contact, of which the scientific
imagination cannot form a coherent picture. It has a side, it is true,
that we can picture well enough--'_the thrilling of the nerves_,' as Dr.
Tyndall says, '_the discharging of the muscles, and all the subsequent
changes of the organism_.' But of how these changes come to have another
side, we can form no picture. This, it is perfectly true, is a complete
mystery. And this mystery it is that our modern physicists seize on, and
try to hide and lose in the shadow of it a conclusion which they admit
that, in any other case, a rigorous logic would force on them.

The following is a typical example of the way in which they do this. It
is taken from Dr. Tyndall. '_The mechanical philosopher, as such_,' he
says, '_will never place a state of consciousness and a group of
molecules in the position of mover and moved. Observation proves them to
interact; but in passing from one to the other, we meet a blank which
the logic of deduction is unable to fill.... I lay bare unsparingly the
initial difficulty of the materialist, and tell him that the facts of
observation which he considers so simple are "almost as difficult to be
seized as the idea of a soul." I go further, and say in effect: "If you
abandon the interpretation of