As a preliminary experiment in order to find out if the soul is indispensable to the life of the organism, or if the cells possibly might do without the soul, we may appropriately remove the latter from an organism and thus directly observe the importance of the soul for the cells. But how can this be done, or at least, how may we deprive the organism of all influence from the soul? The physiologists have proved the possibility of such an experiment. It is fully established that the soul communicates with the body through the brain proper, or the cerebrum, and experience shows that this important organ may be removed and yet the body continue to live. We will here give briefly the results of such experiments made with animals. If the brain be removed from a dove or a hen, the bird often recovers from the radical operation and may remain alive for months and even years. But the dove has become an entirely different being. Immobile she sits on the same place. If she were not heard to breathe she might be taken for a stuffed bird. She lacks ability to judge her position and resembles a living machine that breathes, and swallows the food brought into her bill. The higher qualities of the dove are entirely lost. She shows no signs of fear and is incapable of initiative. She remains sitting in the same place and will not even fly down from small heights. If thrown into the air, she flies until her wings are tired or until she strikes an obstacle that she makes no effort to avoid. From the first day she must be fed artificially, but she digests her food as usual. The heart, the circulation of the blood, the respiration, in short, all the vegetative functions of life continue regularly. Such a state has been characterized by Flourens as a continuous sleep without dreams. The same observations have been made with regard to dogs that have been deprived of a large part of the brain. With lowered head and dead eyes, such a dog moves about indifferent to everything taking place around him. He shows no signs of fear, envy or joy. Neither threats nor friendly speech impress him. He never partakes in the barking of other dogs and is, as a rule, mute. Only should he be hungry he might set up a howl. Although indifferent to the strongest light or sound, he is not entirely blind or deaf. At the stronger sounds he might move his head slightly. All higher life is lost, but he digests his food and all vegetative functions continue _just as_ regularly as if he were in normal condition.