Problems of Life and Mind. Second series, George Henry Lewes [e book reading free TXT] 📗

the first two frogs the motor mechanism remained intact, and only the cerebral and cerebellar influence was removed; in the third frog the sensory part of the motor mechanism had been divided, and no combination of the limbs was possible.

59. Physiological induction agrees with anatomical induction in assigning to the cerebrum and cerebellum the office of incitation and regulation rather than of innervation; for, as we have seen, no nerve issues directly from them (Problem II. § 7). Consequently the effects of injuries to these centres are losses of spontaneity and of complexity in the manifestations. Inasmuch as in the intact organism all sensory impressions are propagated throughout the nervous centres, the reactions of these highest centres will enter into the complex of every adjusted movement; so the abolition of these centres will be the dropping of a link in the chain, the abolition of a special element in the complex group. The organs which are still intact will react, each in its own way, on being stimulated; but the reaction will be without the modifying influence of the absent centres. For instance, the retinal stimulation from a luminous impression normally calls up a cluster of associated feelings derived originally from other senses, and a perception of the object is associated with emotions of desire, terror, etc., according to the past history of the organism, and its organized reactions, due to hereditary or acquired experiences. It is these which form the complex feeling discharged in the particular movement of prehension, or flight. Remove the brain, and there can be no longer this cluster of associated neural groups excited; there will be therefore no emotion, simply the visual sensation, and such a movement as is directly associated with it. The brainless dog moans when hurt, it does not bark at the cat which it nevertheless sees, and avoids as a mere obstacle in its path; the cat will cry, it will not mew. The present pain moves the vocal organs, but does not revive associated experiences. All those combinations by which a series of dependent actions result from a single stimulation are frustrated when the mechanism is disturbed, so that the mutilated animal can no longer recognize its prey or its enemy, to feed on the one and fly from the other; no longer builds its habitation, or rears its offspring. It can still live, feed, sleep, move, and defend itself against present discomfort; it cannot find its food, or protect itself against prospective discomfort. We must supply the place of its Intelligence. We must give it the food, and protect it from injuries.

There is therefore ample evidence to show that what is specially known as Intelligence is very imperfect after the cerebral influence has been abolished; but this does not prove the Cerebrum to be the exclusive seat of Intelligence, it only proves it to be an indispensable factor in a complex of factors. Still less does it prove the Cerebrum to be the exclusive seat of Sensation, Instinct, Volition; for these may be manifested after its removal, although of course even these will be impaired by the loss of one factor.

60. And here an objection must be anticipated. In spite of the familiar experience that one mode of Sensibility may be destroyed without involving the destruction of other modes, there is a general belief—derived from a mistaken conception of what is really represented by the unity of Consciousness—that Consciousness disappears altogether when it disappears at all; and hence, since Sensation is supposed to imply Consciousness, it also cannot be divisible, but must vanish altogether if it vanish at all. The first answer is that Sensation as an abstraction is neither divisible nor indivisible; but as a generalized expression of concrete sensorial processes it is reducible to these processes, and divisible as they are. No one doubts that we may lose a whole class of special sensations—sight, hearing, pain, temperature, etc.—yet retain all the others. No one doubts that we may lose a whole class of registered experiences—forget a language, or lose memory of places so familiar as the streets of the small town we inhabit, or of faces so familiar as those of friends and relatives, while the names of these streets and friends are still remembered when the sounds are heard. Yet sensation and intelligence are not wholly lost. The mind is still erect amid these ruins.269

61. This premised, let us consider the experimental evidence. Flourens declares that when he removed the whole of the Cerebrum from pigeons and fowls, they lost all sensation, all perception, all instinct, and all volition. They lived perfectly well for months after the operation, if the food were placed in their mouths; but they never sought their food; they never took it, even when their beaks were plunged into it: they could swallow, and digest the grains; but they had no instinct to make them seek, no volition to make them pick up the grains. They saw nothing, although the iris remained irritable; they heard nothing; they could not smell. A state of stupor came on, resembling that of deep sleep. All voluntary action ceased. If they were thrown into the air, they flew; if irritated, they moved away; but if left to themselves, they remained motionless, with the head under the wing, as in sleep. Now, inasmuch as these effects always ensue when the Cerebrum is removed, and never when only the Cerebellum is removed, he concludes that all instincts, volitions, and sensations “belong exclusively to the cerebral lobes.”

But all experimenters do not agree in other points named by Flourens; nor in the conclusions he has drawn. On the contrary, it is very certain, and we find evidence even in Flourens himself, that all instincts and all sensations are not destroyed by the removal of the cerebral lobes.

62. Let us hear Bouillaud on this subject.270 He repeated the experiment of Flourens, removing the whole of the Cerebrum from the Brain of a fowl; and he thus records his observations: “This fowl passes the greater part of her time asleep, but she awakes at intervals, and spontaneously. When she goes to sleep, she turns her head on one side and buries it in the feathers of the wing; when she awakes, she shakes herself, flaps her wings, and opens her eyes. In this respect there is no difference observable between the mutilated and the perfect bird. She does not seem to be moved at all by the noise made round about her, but a very slight irritation of the skin suffices to awaken her instantaneously. When the irritation ceases, she relapses into sleep. When awake, she is often seen to cast stupid glances here and there, to change her place, and walk spontaneously. If put into a cage, she tries to escape; but she comes and goes without any purpose, or rational design. When either foot, wing, or head is pinched, she withdraws it; when she is laid hold of, she struggles to escape, and screams; but no sooner is she liberated than she rests motionless. If severely irritated, she screams loudly; but it is not only to express pain that she uses her voice, for it is by no means rare to hear her cackle and cluck a little spontaneously; that is to say, when no external irritation affects her. Her stupidity is profound; she knows neither objects nor places, nor persons, and is completely divested of memory in this respect: not only does she not know how to seek or take food, she does not even know how to swallow it when placed in her beak—it must be pushed to the throat. Nevertheless her indocility, her movements, her agitation, attest that she feels the presence of a strange body. Inasmuch as external objects excite in her no idea, no desire, she pays no attention to them; but she is not absolutely deprived of the power of attention, for if much irritated her attention is awakened. She knows not how to escape an enemy, nor how to defend herself. All her actions, in a word, are blind, without reflexion, without knowledge.”

In this recital, the evidence both of sensation and instinct is incontestable, to any unprejudiced mind. Bouillaud, in commenting on his observations, remarks, that assuredly all sensation was not destroyed, since the sensibilities of touch and pain were very manifest. Nor is it certain, he says, that the fowl heard nothing, saw nothing. It is true that she stumbled against objects, and knew not how to avoid them. She opened her eyes on awaking, looked about, and showed a sensibility in the pupil to light; which, he thinks, is incompatible with the absence of all sensation of sight

63. The experiments of Longet271 seem decisive on this latter point. Having removed the whole of the Cerebrum from a pigeon, he observed that whenever he approached a light brusquely to its eyes, there was contraction of the pupil, and even winking; but, what was still more remarkable, “when I gave a rotatory motion to the candle, and at such a distance that there could be no sensation of heat, the pigeon made a similar movement with its head. These observations, renewed several times in the presence of persons who were at my lectures, left no doubt of the persistence of sensibility to light after removal of the cerebral lobes.” We have only to think of the baby following with its eyes the light moved before it, to understand the kind of impression produced by the candle on the pigeon. Longet also declares that his experiments prove the existence of sensations of sound, after removal of the whole cerebrum.

64. Dr. Dalton, giving the results of numerous experiments he performed, says that removal of the Cerebrum plunges the animal in “a profound stupor, in which he is almost entirely inattentive to surrounding objects.... Occasionally the bird opens its eyes with a vacant stare, stretches his neck, perhaps shakes his bill once or twice, or smoothes down the feathers upon his shoulders, and then relapses into his former apathetic condition. This state of immobility, however, is not accompanied by the loss of sight, of hearing, or of ordinary sensibility. All these functions remain, as well as that of voluntary motion. If a pistol be discharged behind the back of the animal, he at once opens his eyes, moves his head half round, and gives evident signs of having heard the report; but he immediately becomes quiet again, and pays no further attention to it. Sight is also retained, since the bird will sometimes fix its eye on a particular object, and watch it for several seconds together.”272

While, therefore, Flourens concludes from his experiments that the Cerebrum is the seat of all sensation and all volition; and Bouillaud concludes that it is most probably the seat of none; Dr. Dalton concludes that the functions of the Cerebrum are restricted to those usually classed as intellectual. “The animal,” he says, “is still capable, after removal of the hemispheres, of receiving sensations from external objects. But these sensations appear to make upon him no lasting impression. He is incapable of connecting with his perceptions any distinct succession of ideas. He hears, for example, the report of a pistol, but he is not alarmed by it; for the sound, although distinctly perceived, does not suggest any idea of danger or injury. The memory is altogether destroyed, and the recollection of sensations is not retained from one moment to another. The limbs and muscles are still under the control of the will; but the will itself is inactive, because apparently it lacks its usual mental stimulus and direction.”273

Dr. Dalton reminds us how disturbance of the cerebral functions in human beings recalls these observations on animals.