urses of Gilford Lectures. He would
be a sort of set-off against the rationalism of Max Muller and the
scepticism of Tylor. What other reason, indeed, could have inspired
his selection? He has not the slightest reputation as a theologian or
philosopher, and one of the leading reviews, in noticing his Clifford
Lectures, expresses a mild but decided wonder at his appearing in such a
character.

Let the Gifford Lectures, however, pass--for the present. We propose to
deal with an earlier effort of Sir G. G. Stokes. Nearly two years ago
he delivered a lecture at the Finsbury Polytechnic on the Immortality of
the Soul. It was reported in the _Family Churchman_, and reprinted after
revision as a twopenny pamphlet, with the first title of "I." This is
the only pointed thing about it. The lecture is about "I," or, as Sir G.
G. Stokes, might say, "All my I."

Sir G. G. Stokes begins by promising to confine himself to the question,
"What is it that personal identity depends upon and consists in?" But
he does not fulfil the promise. After some jejune remarks upon this
question he drops into theology and winds up with a little sermon.

"I cannot pretend that I am able to answer that question myself," says
Sir G. G. Stokes. Why, then, did he not leave it alone? "But I will
endeavor," he says, "to place before you some thoughts bearing in that
direction which I have found helpful to myself, and which possibly may
be of some help to some of you."

Sir G. G. Stokes does not mention David Hume, but that great thinker
pointed out, with his habitual force and clearness, that personal
identity depends upon memory. Our scientific lecturer, with the
theological twist, says it "involves memory," which implies a certain
reservation. Yet he abstains from elucidating the point; and as it is
the most important one in the discussion, he must be held guilty of
short-sightedness or timidity.

Memory involves thought, says Sir G. G. Stokes. This is true; in fact,
it is a truism. And what, he asks, does thought depend on? "To a certain
extent" he allows that it "depends upon the condition of the brain." But
during the present life, at any rate, it depends _absolutely_ on the
condition of the brain Look at the head of an idiot, and then at the
head of Shakespeare; is not the brain difference the obvious cause of
the mental difference? Are there not diseases of the brain that affect
thought in a definite manner? Is not thought excited by stimulants,