manufacturer who had a dispute with his workpeople might find himself coerced to agree, for political reasons, to a bad settlement because of the threats to withdraw financial assistance. Equally, a trade union might be coerced in exactly the same way, because it might be prevented from drawing on its funds for strike pay.

Again, since the provision of financial accommodation would be under the control of a State department, members of Parliament would be constantly bringing pressure to bear upon the Ministry concerned to give accommodation to constituents, and traders would in many cases obtain the financial assistance for which they asked, not primarily because of the economic merits of the scheme for which they wanted the money but because of the influence or the pertinacity of their member of Parliament.

The agitation in support of nationalisation of banking has had considerable impetus given to it by two groups of people, namely, the readers of Major Douglas and Mr. Orage's book Credit Power and Democracy and the members of the League of the British Commonwealth, the President of which was Mr. J. R. Clynes, and the Chairman Mr. Frederick Thoresby, who has stood first as a Liberal and later as a Socialist candidate for Parliament.

The book Credit Power and Democracy apparently sought to prove the same thesis as Professor Soddy, and apparently its argument was that goods were being produced at a rate greater than purchasing power, and in consequence there was always an unabsorbed supply of goods, which was alleged to be the fundamental cause of unemployment. This curious theory appears to be derived from the fact that the amount of wages paid for the production of a commodity is less than its sale price.

The difference of course represents the profits of the manufacturers, wholesalers and retailers, and as these people must spend their profits in one way or another, the fundamental principle of the book is really a fallacy.

The proposal to which this fallacy gave rise was that credit should be created at a rate sufficient to bridge the alleged gap between the value of the goods produced and the purchasing power which came into being as a result of the production of the goods. In short, the proposal was one for unlimited

inflation.

The principle of the League of the British Commonwealth, judging from its literature, is a little more difficult to discover, but probably it is the same as that enunciated in Credit Power and Democracy. The League would apparently give everybody who was reputable the right to borrow money from a bank at a very low rate of interest, and therefore the proposal of the League

would abolish all the tests which a bank to-day very properly applies, except the initial test of honesty.

This brief examination of the problems involved in the banking system, while not suggesting that improvement is impossible, will, it is hoped, be sufficient to show that transfer of banking to the State would involve grave dangers to the community.

HERBERT G. WILLIAMS.

FAITH-HEALING

IN the following remarks I do not wish to introduce any discordant note between the Church and medicine, for each has its assured position. Formerly the two professions were united in the same person, but they have wisely drifted apart, and for definite reasons connected with scientific progress, as when the ecclesiastics affirmed that the earth and all the celestial bodies were created 6000 years ago, and that in six days the order of Nature was all settled, that the earth was not round but an extended plane, that the sky was the firmament and the floor of heaven through which persons had been seen again and again to ascend, that the sun and the stars revolved round the motionless earth; then priestcraft and doctoring became separated, and it is best they should be. For a quarter of a century and more there has been a gradually increasing interest in the curative value of suggestion, often, some say erroneously, known as spiritual healing or faith-healing. In 1908 there was a Church of England Committee to inquire into the matter; in 1910 there was a Committee of the British Medical Association, which did the same thing from the doctors' standpoint, and there is another to-day; in 1920 a committee of forty bishops and others investigated spiritualism, theosophy, and the healing of Christian scientists, and it recommended the licensing of healers. In 1924 another Church of England Committee, appointed by the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1920, reported against the licensing of healers, though it admitted that some of the clergy laid claim to therapeutic powers'; but it considered they would, if licensed, be compelled to abandon their important special calling and would expect to make a living out of healing, although unqualified 'professionally. Further, it was thought that the poor, when ill, might be deprived of proper medical care and be in the hands of quacks, also that the legitimate medical charities would inevitably suffer as a consequence. This last Committee consisted of seven bishops (the Bishop of Oxford was Chairman), eight clergy, and six medical men, and their report is sold by the S.P.C.K. at 6d. Throughout the period of its investigation the Bishop of London continued to preach for the revival of the apostolic gift of healing 'without

the aid of material means'; but the Committee only regarded his views as a protest against materialism.

The first consideration in regard to faith-healing is to realise the interdependence of mind and body. Material impressions acting from outside through the senses can produce conscious modifications; on the other hand, conscious volition, which is a mental process, can cause muscular movements and bodily actions. We, therefore, realise there is interaction between the mind and the body, and particularly do we realise the influence of the emotions upon all the vital functions, especially upon the heart, for we use the adjective cordial' in common speech to signify goodwill; and further, to indicate what we mean, we place our hands over our hearts to express sincerity and affection. 'I love you with all my heart' also explains in popular language the association of mind and body. John Hunter, the great surgeon and anatomist, experienced intense emotion when passionately repudiating adverse criticism, and died from heart failure in the board room of St. George's Hospital. Hume died suddenly of joy on hearing of the restoration of Charles II. The messenger who ran to announce to the chief magistrate at Athens the victory of the Greeks in the battle of Marathon died after shouting: Xaɩpéte' (‘Rejoice '). Sudden death has resulted when a player at the gaming table was collecting his coup, and not long ago in the newspapers we read of a woman dying of laughter in a cinema. Everyone knows the effects of fear; in some cases an attack of jaundice has followed nervous fear, and we are aware of the influence of the emotions upon the digestion. The sudden change in the colour of the hair in a single night from black to white or grey, as the result of a serious emotional experience, is also well known, and the long continuous disappointment or vexation which has ended in the 'decline,' or tuberculosis, is also familiar to most people. A strong emotion either by auto-suggestion or hetero-suggestion-i.e., a suggestion made by others, which is in the end an auto-suggestion— is also known in its physical or bodily effects, so that we can say an emotion may suspend, modify or excite the organic functions of the body and may result in death. If we get a religious emotion, the strongest known 'urge,' definite stigmata may be left upon the body as the result. The blood-vessels are modified to such an extent by a strong emotion that they will allow the blood to transude, and so promote a hæmorrhage.

Our purposive life in following our different occupations is a series of conscious acts: we are conscious when we attend to things; but attention upon any one subject cannot be continued for more than about thirty seconds, and only one thing can remain at the same time in the field of consciousness or in the focus of attention, so the conscious part of the mind is small and

limited, and we are forced to admit that what we are conscious of is constructed out of what we are unconscious of.

If my focus of attention, or in other words my conscious mind, is small, the sub-conscious or fore-conscious area is larger, and both may be plotted in circles, one outside the other. What gets into the inner, smaller circle of the conscious mind has connections and associations with the larger circle round it of the sub-conscious mind. If I think of an illness the small circle of my conscious attention is occupied, yet I link up with it the pain, disability and suffering previously experienced; and the nurse and doctor who afforded me relief together with the place where I was treated all tend to come in, as they are associative links (with their feelings), but they are on the margin of consciousness in my sub-conscious mind. There is yet another part of my mind, which is larger still and outside the other two, but is often denied a place in the mind because it does not reach consciousness. This is the unconscious mind. We are aware of this in the delirium of fever and indeed in dreams, and I may add also in the carrying out of the vital functions. I am not aware of my heart-beats, nor of my respirations, nor of my digestion unless these are obstructed by disease, yet they all rise into consciousness when the regularity of their action is inhibited. They are nevertheless in my unconscious mind, though ordinarily not revealed in consciousness, so that we are constrained to state the mind must not be limited to conscious actions alone. The circulation, the secretion, the contraction of the so-called involuntary muscles are all unconscious, yet they can be influenced, as stated, by abnormal conscious processes such as worry, anxiety, fear, surprise, joy and other emotions; for extremes of these have stopped the vital functions and caused sudden death. It is thus clear that the vital functions are modified, directed, and controlled by the unconscious mind, and suggestions reaching this part of the mind, such as those from the environment, or through the manner and the influence of another person by sympathy or by hypnotism, can and do control the vital functions. We know that in sleep, when the conscious mind is at rest, and when the reason is inhibited, the sub-conscious mind is active in our dreams, and difficult mathematical problems have been solved in this condition which no amount of volitional exertion can accomplish. We can go to bed desirous of waking at a particular hour in the morning, and at the exact minute the sub-conscious mind has remembered to arouse us. During wakefulness we may forget a name or a line of poetry, and no effort of will seems able to recall it, yet when we have ceased consciously to seek for it, it is remembered. This is a very familiar occurrence, and people will often say, 'Never mind; it will recur to me presently,' and it does, even when the mind is