derate conclusions as he
will.

My thanks for help in writing these lectures are due to Edwin D.
Starbuck, of Stanford University, who made over to me his large
collection of manuscript material; to Henry W. Rankin, of East
Northfield, a friend unseen but proved, to whom I owe precious
information; to Theodore Flournoy, of Geneva, to Canning Schiller of
Oxford, and to my colleague Benjamin Rand, for documents; to my
colleague Dickinson S. Miller, and to my friends, Thomas Wren Ward, of
New York, and Wincenty Lutoslawski, late of Cracow, for important
suggestions and advice. Finally, to conversations with the lamented
Thomas Davidson and to the use of his books, at Glenmore, above Keene
Valley, I owe more obligations than I can well express.

Harvard University,
March, 1902.

THE VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

Lecture I

RELIGION AND NEUROLOGY

It is with no small amount of trepidation that I take my place behind
this desk, and face this learned audience. To us Americans, the
experience of receiving instruction from the living voice, as well as
from the books, of European scholars, is very familiar. At my own
University of Harvard, not a winter passes without its harvest, large
or small, of lectures from Scottish, English, French, or German
representatives of the science or literature of their respective
countries whom we have either induced to cross the ocean to address us,
or captured on the wing as they were visiting our land. It seems the
natural thing for us to listen whilst the Europeans talk. The contrary
habit, of talking whilst the Europeans listen, we have not yet
acquired; and in him who first makes the adventure it begets a certain
sense of apology being due for so presumptuous an act. Particularly
must this be the case on a soil as sacred to the American imagination
as that of Edinburgh. The glories of the philosophic chair of this
university were deeply impressed on my imagination in boyhood.
Professor Fraser's Essays in Philosophy, then just published, was the
first philosophic book I ever looked into, and I well remember the
awestruck feeling I received from the account of Sir William Hamilton's
classroom therein contained. Hamilton's own lectures were the first
philosophic writings I ever forced myself to study, and after that I
was immersed in Dugald Stewart and Thomas Brown. Such juvenile
emotions of reverence never get outgrown; and I confess that to find my
humble s