“Psychology, up to very recent times, has been held so rigidly under the dominance both of traditional religion and of philosophy--the two great bulwarks of medievalism--that it has never been able to free itself and become a science.... In the late sixties an attempt was made” to make it such. “The boast was voiced that psychology ... had become a science without a soul--that is, a natural science.” But “notwithstanding the many laboratories here and abroad, it has never been able to substantiate this claim.... The psychology begun by Wundt has failed to become a science,”--apparently because some remnants of soul still cling to it. And Dr. Watson concludes, “Before progress could be made in astronomy, it had to bury astrology; neurology had to bury phrenology; and chemistry had to bury alchemy. But the social sciences, psychology, sociology, political science and economics, will not bury their medicine men.” He is speaking, of course, of psychology prior to Dr. Watson, of the psychology of Wundt, which resulted in the Binet intelligence tests. This in its day was considered a very materialistic psychology indeed, superseding the psychology of the William James or the Herbert Spencer type, which also in its day voiced the boast that it was a science, tough, and without bowels of compassion. How rapidly we progress. James lived until 1910, Spencer until 1903. It was not until 1912, when, according to Dr. Watson, “behaviorism first showed its head,” that the burying of the medicine men began. And two years later came the War! The boast can now be voiced without fear of contradiction that psychology has no soul. Still if it be true science, and if science be but another name for reality, I for one am going to get at the burying of my own medicine men without further delay. I notice a considerable amount of such burying going on about me. Men are hurrying with the work as if afraid of being caught with a corpse or two on their hands and undisposed of. A sort of terror is stalking through the land, afflicting especially the writers of books and magazine articles--the terror of not being able to keep up with the Joneses in their employment of the undertaker. The famous Experimental Method, but late a fugitive, hounded from hole to corner and from corner to hole, has found influence and capital. It wields a big stick, or at least a big stick is being wielded in its name. It was once said, “Wisdom crieth in the streets, How long ye simple ones will ye love simplicity?” And now a voice, still purporting to be Wisdom’s, fairly yells: “Bring us your dead!” One would think that a pestilence was abroad. Possibly there is. Formerly men bowed down to the image which Nebuchadnezzar the king had set up, or cast their babes before the car of Juggernaut. Today they would rather die, some of them, than be found obstructing the wheels of progress. Science, grown rich, has acquired such prestige as was once accorded only to Cæsar.