as, and may
still hold that ideas can cause motions in matter.

There is, however, another objection that predisposes many thoughtful
persons to reject parallelism uncompromisingly. It is this. If we
admit that the chain of physical causes and effects, from a blow given
to the body to the resulting muscular movements made in self-defense,
is an unbroken one, what part can we assign to the mind in the whole
transaction? Has it _done_ anything? Is it not reduced to the
position of a passive spectator? Must we not regard man as "a physical
automaton with parallel psychical states"?

Such an account of man cannot fail to strike one as repugnant; and yet
it is the parallelist himself whom we must thank for introducing us to
it. The account is not a caricature from the pen of an opponent. "An
automaton," writes Professor Clifford,[2] "is a thing that goes by
itself when it is wound up, and we go by ourselves when we have had
food. Excepting the fact that other men are conscious, there is no
reason why we should not regard the human body as merely an exceedingly
complicated machine which is wound up by putting food into the mouth.
But it is not _merely_ a machine, because consciousness goes with it.
The mind, then, is to be regarded as a stream of feelings which runs
parallel to, and simultaneous with, a certain part of the action of the
body, that is to say, that particular part of the action of the brain
in which the cerebrum and the sensory tracts are excited."

The saving statement that the body is not _merely_ a machine, because
consciousness goes with it, does not impress one as being sufficient to
redeem the illustration. Who wants to be an automaton with an
accompanying consciousness? Who cares to regard his mind as an
"epiphenomenon"--a thing that exists, but whose existence or
nonexistence makes no difference to the course of affairs?

The plain man's objection to such an account of himself seems to be
abundantly justified. As I have said earlier in this chapter, neither
interactionist nor parallelist has the intention of repudiating the
experience of world and mind common to us all. We surely have evidence
enough to prove that minds count for something. No house was ever
built, no book was ever written, by a creature without a mind; and the
better the house or book, the better the mind. _That_ there is a fixed
and absolutely dependable relation between the planning mind and the
thing accomplished,