for
its standard. Mind, thus, is neither simple, nor immutable, nor stable;
it is a thing to be "changed," "confused," "cleared," "made-up,"
"trained." One body, I have written elsewhere,[89] "in the course of its
lifetime, has many minds, only partially united. Men are all too often
"of two minds." The unity of a mind depends on its consistent pursuit of
_one_ interest, although we then call it narrow; or on the cooeperation
and harmony of its many interests. Frequently, two or more minds may
struggle for the possession of the same body; that is, the body may be
divided by two elaborately systematized tendencies to act. The beginning
of such division occurs wherever there is a difficulty in deciding
between alternative modes of behavior; the end is to be observed in
those cases of dual or multiple personality in which the body has
ordered a great collection of objects and systematized so large a
collection of interests in such typically distinct ways as to have set
up for itself different and opposed "minds." On the other hand, two or
fifty or a million bodies may be "of the same mind."

Unhappily, difference of mind, diversity and conflict of interests is
quite as fundamental, if not more so, as sameness of mind, cooeperation
and unity of interests. This the philosophical tradition sufficiently
attests. To Plato man is at once a protean beast, a lion, and an
intellect; the last having for its proper task to rule the first and
to regulate the second, which is always rebellious and irruptive.[90]
According to the Christian tradition man is at once flesh and spirit,
eternally in conflict with one another, and the former is to be
mortified that the latter may have eternal life. Common sense divides us
into head and heart, never quite at peace with one another. There is no
need of piling up citations. Add to the inward disharmonies of mind its
incompatibilities with the environment, and you perceive at once how
completely it is, from moment to moment, a theater and its life a drama
of which the interests that compose it are at once protagonists and
directors. The catastrophe of this unceasing drama is always that one or
more of the players is driven from the stage of conscious existence. It
may be that the environment--social conditions, commercial necessity,
intellectual urgency, allies of other interests--will drive it off; it
may be that its own intrinsic unpleasantness will banish it, will put it
out of mind; whatever