scribes or the opinion he declares in a thoroughly lively way—in fact, so warmly do I embrace it that I am willing to act upon it.
The nature of belief is to be a part of our active nature; it is related to the will. We believe a thing when we accept it and are willing to act upon it.
We set for our second question, What are the conditions under which belief arises? These are of two kinds. There are mental conditions and physiological conditions.
The physiological conditions of belief will of course be primarily those, if there be such, which are indispensable to all mental activity. Now, since of physiological activities in general there is an unfailing register in the circulation of the blood—i. e., innervation of muscle or nerve at any point is accompanied by an increased flow of blood to that point—we may take the flow of blood as one means of registering physiological activity. With this as a test we can affirm that there are physiological conditions for all mental activity. In fact, the investigations of Mosso, the Italian physiologist, enable us to measure the increased flow of blood to the brain which accompanies simple mental operations. A delicately balanced bed scale on which the subject is placed reveals the fact that the simplest mental operations, as answering a question or working out a problem in mental arithmetic, is registered in increased weight of the head—i. e., greater blood supply. Increased rapidity of circulation is then a prime physiological condition of belief. This gives a key to the conditions under which belief arises. In general they may be summed up under one head—heightened vascular and nervous activity.
If we stop and ask ourselves how did we come to believe such and such a thing, we shall find in almost every case that it was under excitement. Did ever a girl sit down calmly and reason to the conclusion that she was in love? Did ever a man or woman reason to the conclusion that he or she was saved? No, belief does not come that way. Every orator learns that. It is not the close-woven, incontestable argument that leads to belief. It may be a good preparation, but often the result can be gained wholly without it, and I doubt if it is ever indispensable. Men and women are moved to believe, not by argument but by aroused feeling. Just as when anger is aroused some outlet must be had, so when the active nature is aroused something must be believed. The person who at a revival meeting happens to be unmoved, finds it hard even to conceive the intensity of conviction which possesses the kneelers at the mourners' bench.
Anything, then, that arouses the physical activities may be expected to stimulate belief. This will be found to be true. Excitement of any sort seems to quicken conviction. Stimulants arouse belief. I hope some one will make a thorough study of