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Updated: May 23, 2025
The brain's activity lapsed proportionately. He began to think less, and feel more. In that rugged composition, confused, dark, harsh, a furrow had been driven deep, a little seed planted, a little seed at first weak, forgotten, lost in the lower dark places of his character. But as the intellect moved slower, its functions growing numb, the idea of self dwindled.
In the midst of the shock and uproar there came to him a pulse of the brain's double action; he seemed long ago to have loved, to have admired, to have gloried in this splendid valor. But with the hint, and the humanity of it, back poured the ardor of his sacred devotion, all the impulsions of his passionate purpose: here was God's work!
Jemmy!!" exclaimed his brothers and sisters. "Asy, childhre," said the father "asy; let the mother to him let her to him. Who has the right that she has? Vara, asthore Vara, think of yourself. God of heaven! what is comin' over her? Her brain's turned!" "Father, don't remove her," said the son. "Leave her arms where they are: it's long since they encircled my neck before.
Between his misfortunes and his sorrow, the good man is a little cracked. . . . The lady found him troublesome for she sees a great deal of company. So she sent him out here. He's very gentle no worry at all. He doesn't speak three words the whole day long. In fact, his brain's quite gone. The doctor comes to see him every week. He says he won't live long."
Yet this new emphasis on the motor side of the psychical process seems to influence modern psychology more and more. Nobody can deny that first of all this is the necessary outcome of a biological view of the brain. What else can be the brain's function in the midst of nature than the transforming of impressions into expressions, stimuli into actions?
"Does she care for him, you mean? I don't think so, Hosy. For a spell I thought she did, but now I doubt it. I think Well, never mind what I think. I think a lot of foolish things. My brain's softenin' up, I shouldn't wonder.
Dickson Sahib came out on his way back to the offices and stopped to finish their tiffin conversation: "I'm glad you're interested in young Horace; you're going to be no end good for him, I can see that. You'll find him far too mature for his years. His brain's too active; but he's not abnormal. His tutors call him insatiable; but from his babyhood the breath of his life has been elephants.
In the second place, its disappearance will not make the slightest difference, for in the few cubic inches of the human brain nature has stored up treasures greater than all those hidden in the depths of the earth. The creation of the human brain took more years than the creation of the coal fields, but the brain's resources are inexhaustible.
Wolfe laughed, too, in a senseless way. "I think I'll get out," he said. "I believe his brain's touched," said Haley, when he came out. The puddler scraped away with the tin for half an hour. Still Deborah did not speak. At last she ventured nearer, and touched his arm. "Blood?" she said, looking at some spots on his coat with a shudder. He looked up at her.
"Did 'e note Jan Grimbal theer?" "I seed un, an' I catched un wi' his eye on you more 'n wance. He 's grawed to look nowadays as if his mouth allus had a sour plum in it." "His brain's got sour stuff hid in it if his mouth haven't. Be you ever feared of un?" "Not me. Why for should I be? He'll be wan of the fam'ly like, now. He caan't keep his passion alive for ever.
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