Or in case of change of structure of the brain substance, as in softening of the brain; or in case of tumors, blood clots (thrombosis), or syphilitic disease, and paralysis either local or general resulting—depending on the seat of the disease—what has the soul to do with it? Or in disease of the meninges (coverings); or in case of insanity, whatever morbid cause might have produced that condition, where is the soul?
Or when, in consequence of morbid changes, the mental and physical expressions, the actions, change, often extravagantly, is the soul affected thereby?
When the body is afflicted with disease, does the soul suffer?
At what period of fetal development is it that the soul enters the body? Or does it enter at birth?
The breath of life is Oxygen. Without that element one could not live. Without it the newly born babe is more helpless than a lower animal. Not a single special sense is fully developed. The brain substance is not fully developed. The babe has no power to will anything. It has no volition—except the act of nursing, and that is not a voluntary act. The organs over which will has no control are the first to act—an infant soils its linen involuntarily. It imbibes nourishment, as a mass of protoplasm imbibes moisture. It has neither will power nor desire. It cannot select. It has neither knowledge nor conscience. Since none of the special senses is able to act, it has no perception of any kind whatsoever. It experiences only two sensations, pain and hunger. Young birds and other young animals do the same.
Is there anything in this newly born babe of a supernatural character, such as a soul, spirit; the knowledge of God, or of good and evil? Does there exist in this mass of organized protoplasm anything that may be called divine? Is there aught innate? No! Certainly not!
There are what may be termed latent powers—not unlike latent heat—capable of being evolved. You may fashion anything out of it—in the religious line, brutal or uncivilized, etc. It will acquire any kind of speech, from the howling of a dog to the most refined language. It will contract any habit, from that of the lowest animal type to that of the most refined lady or gentleman. You may make either a cannibal out of it or the most fantastic gustatorian. It will either crawl, climb, or walk. It will live anywhere and anyhow. It will either parade nude, be painted, or wear a breechcloth, or wear a swell dress coat, or, if it be a female, a long trailing skirt with all sorts of gewgaws. In religion you may make anything out of this babe. You may make it believe the greatest nonsense. It will believe three gods in one or twenty-five gods in one. It will be a Jew, a Christian, a Mohammedan, or the lowest brute on the face of the earth.
This mass of vitalized matter is susceptible to training. The physical part, the muscular part, always develops and is readily trained. In a primitive state it requires but little discipline to acquire muscular strength. The muscular powers are the first to assert themselves. This master tissue, whenever and wherever it excels, receives honor and homage, and prevails among its companions. In barbaric ages this was the controlling force, the ruling spirit, the governing power.
The nervous tissues require teaching. The senses must be trained, educated, cultured, refined. The impressions received through the nerve-centers by the senses are stored up in the cerebrum. Though they are at first simple, crude, and incomprehensible, habit, use, or repetition enables them to familiarize us with the surrounding objects.
If the brain is fully formed, the infantile education begins. By constant repetition of the same acts, the sense of satisfaction from feeding, and the sense of comfort from cleanliness, are slowly established in the experience of the child.