instrument in the hands of a person not myself. In view of
having to wait for the results of these unconscious processes, I have
proved the habit of getting together material in advance, and then
leaving the mass to digest itself till I am ready to write about it. I
delayed for a month the writing of my book 'System of Psychology,' but
continued reading the authorities. I would not try to think about the
book. I would watch with interest the people passing the windows. One
evening when reading the paper, the substance of the missing part of the
book flashed upon my mind, and I began to write. This is only a sample of
many such experiences."

Berthelot, the founder of Synthetic Chemistry has said that the
experiments leading to his wonderful discoveries have never been the
result of carefully followed trains of thought--of pure reasoning
processes--but have come of themselves, so to speak, from the clear sky.

Mozart has written: "I cannot really say that I can account for my
compositions. My ideas flow, and I cannot say whence or how they come. I
do not hear in my imagination the parts successively, but I hear them, as
it were, all at once. The rest is merely an attempt to reproduce what I
have heard."

Dr. Thompson, above mentioned, has also said: "In writing this work I
have been unable to arrange my knowledge of a subject for days and weeks,
until I experienced a clearing up of my mind, when I took my pen and
unhesitatingly wrote the result. I have best accomplished this by leading
the (conscious) mind as far away as possible from the subject upon which
I was writing."

Prof. Barrett says: "The mysteriousness of our being is not confined to
subtle physiological processes which we have in common with all animal
life. There are higher and more capacious powers wrapped up in our human
personality than are expressed even by what we know of consciousness,
will, or reason. There are supernormal and transcendental powers of
which, at present, we only catch occasional glimpses; and behind and
beyond the supernormal there are fathomless abysses, the Divine ground of
the soul; the ultimate reality of which our consciousness is but the
reflection or faint perception. Into such lofty themes I do not propose
to enter, they must be forever beyond the scope of human inquiry; nor is
it possible within the limits of this paper to give any adequate
conception of those mysterious regions of our complex personality, which
are open