THE INTREPID JOSEPH JASTROW

References

On September 28, 1988, psychologists trained at the University of Wisconsin returned to their alma mater in Madison to launch a three-day celebration of the Wisconsin psychology department's first century. Fifty years earlier, in 1938, a similar jubilation took place in Madison to mark the first half-century of the Wisconsin department. On that evening in 1938, Wisconsin's two most notable psychological pioneers were present to speak at a banquet. One was Joseph Jastrow, the department's founder, then retired and living in the East. It was to be his last visit to Wisconsin. The other speaker was Jastrow's former graduate student, a man of radically different moods, Clark L. Hull, who had resigned his Wisconsin teaching position a few years earlier to accept a position at Yale. The two men had clashed and had written disparagingly of each other's views and styles.

The Wisconsin department has, of course, modeled itself more in the image of the later neobehaviorist Hull than in that of the antibehaviorist Jastrow who remained a man of the nineteenth century in mannerisms, language, and ideas. The life and works of Hull, so well known, are pored over again and again by historians of this field. The Wisconsin centenary of 1988 created an occasion for the rediscovery of the life, times, and prolific works of the earlier pioneer, Jastrow, now largely unknown to writers of texts on the history of psychology.


Locating Jastrow

That process of rediscovery began when WisconsinÕs Professor William Epstein called me in advance of the 1988 meeting. He suggested that I might be interested in investigating and interpreting the unusually long history of the Wisconsin department and then in reporting on it to the centenary celebration in Madison. Indeed I was interested. Such an assignment was bound to involve exciting detective work, and as it turned out, some discoveries of historical treasures and skeletons in closets. It led this detective into snares of historical mysteries, to nagging enigmatic clues, and to trails barely visible beneath the dust of time. Leads and tips stretched from coast to coast, archive to archive, retirement home to retirement home, and attic to attic. Here is an example of the excitement of this kind of research.

After rumors surfaced concerning the existence of missing Jastrow papers, and after some months of frustrated searching, I stumbled on a faded footnote in an old Wisconsin state historical magazine in an article on the lively social life Jastrow had brought to that campus. The footnote cited "The Jastrow papersÓ which were, it claimed, deposited in Duke University's Archives. Jastrow had, as far as I know, never visited Duke. When his closest surviving relative, a nephew named Jastrow Levin, was located in Baltimore, I learned from that 80-year-old gentleman that an aggressive Duke librarian had simply expressed more interest in taking care of Jastrow's papers than had the Wisconsin librarian. Therefore the family decided to give Joseph's things to Duke. Duke probably was alerted to this opportunity because Jastrow's death in 1944 was headlined on the New York Times obituary page. And that was because he had become something of a media celebrity in that city near the end of his life.

An immediate call to the Duke library produced nothing. No Jastrow papers. But one sublibrarian remarked that Duke also maintained a rare manuscripts library. Another call brought the reply that several large boxes with the name "Jastrow" on them were located. Then came a further report: No one had been there to study those papers since they were deposited in 1944. After the time necessary for a short plane ride and long taxi ride, I opened those boxes and for the first time a serious unraveling of Jastrow's life began, barely in time for the centennial meeting in Madison.


The Personal Background

Joseph's father, Marcus Jastrow, was one of the leading Rabbis, Talmudic scholars, and Jewish educators in America at the turn of the century, and he was also distinguished by an heroic past of fighting for human rights in mid-nineteenth century Poland. I doubt that you could find an encyclopedia of Jewish history that lacks a summary of the life of Marcus Jastrow. This charismatic family patriarch had been an effective crusader for social and moral causes both within and outside of the Jewish community. He had groomed his two sons (Joseph and Morris) for the rabbinate, raising them in a literate, articulate, and socially aware environment. Both sons, however, eventually fell into conflict with their distinguished and strong-willed father. Both left the congregation Rodeph Shalom in Philadelphia to devote their lives to the academic world. Morris received a Ph.D. in Semitic languages from Leipzig and went on to a distinguished academic career at Penn. Joseph strayed further and abandoned his father's religion altogether. That religion, however, never left him. Throughout his life he was dogged by antisemitism which, according to some accounts (e.g. Roback, 1964), retarded his career. But those accounts remain largely in the limbo of hearsay. From letters uncovered in the Duke Library it is clear to me that Jastrow was the focus of some antisemitic barbs. These came in retaliation to attacks on people he had initiated. His sometimes abrasive character, especially his pronounced arrogance, is still remembered by a few oldtimers in Madison and must have been partly responsible for the trail of conflict he left in the historical record everywhere.

Beside that negative image, however, I found a counter-image built of flattering reminiscences. For example, here are a few lines from a letter by a patient at the Austen Riggs Foundation in Massachusetts where Jastrow was also a patient at the end of his life, suffering one of his recurring depressions. The conditions leading to this final depressive episode were these: A few month's earlier, Jastrow's only child, an adopted son, was lost to the war in Europe. Jastrow had been a widower since 1926, and he seemed not particularly close to his three sisters one of whom was in a mental hospital. His brother Morris had died early. His passions for one Miss Elsie Junghans, his private secretary in the 1930s who had provoked a gush of romantic poetry from the old professor, were left sadly unfulfilled. Even in that depth of depression, Jastrow inspired the following glowing admiration in a letter sent from one J. H. Preston to a niece of Jastrow's on January 23, 1944.

I was at Stockbridge during the summer and found Dr. Jastrow the most interesting and stimulating person there ... He was such a kind, noble and truly great human being ... In the last note I got from him he said. 'MY downs seem more constant than my ups.'... I was deeply fond of your uncle, though I new him only in the last half-year of his long and distinguished life. He was a prince of men, and I shall remember him always. (Duke Library)

The sentiments of university administrators toward Jastrow over the earlier several decades were, invariably, 180 degrees the opposite of Mr. Preston's reminiscences. And therein lies a bitter story which unfolds in part in what follows here.

But let us first catch a bit more of his earlier happier years before the depressing and nearly suicidal tangle with bankers and university administrators. While in graduate school at Hopkins, Jastrow roomed and boarded in Baltimore in the home of the Rabbi Benjamin Szold who had no less than eight daughters. (It is my sense that these were Jastrow's happiest years.) Some of the Szold girls later wrote of Jastrow because he had constantly entertained them in the 1880s by using them as subjects in psychological experiments which they regarded as greatly amusing. Jastrow maintained a lifelong correspondence with one of the Szold daughters (Henrietta) who sometimes spurned his attention, referring to him as "a godless Darwinian' (Jastrow letters, Wisconsin Historical Archives). Henrietta matured into one of the great women of this century. She was to be the founder of the Hadassah Society and as a courageous Zionist and underground operative in the 1930s and 1940s she became a heroine of Israel honored to this day. The Henrietta Szold archives in Jerusalem contain some of the Jastrow letters. As soon as he was offered his first gainful employment from Wisconsin, at the age of 23, Joseph married Henrietta's sister, Rachel.


Disciplinary Roots

Jastrow's education in psychology began as auspiciously as any centered entirely in the U.S. could have in the late-nineteenth century. He received the first doctorate from the first formally organized Ph.D. program in psychology in this country, G. Stanley Hall's graduate psychology program at Johns Hopkins which survived for only a few years in the mid-1880s. As a graduate student in 1884 Jastrow co-published an important article on psychophysics with C. S. Peirce who was at Hopkins as a lecturer and who was the first to encourage Jastrow to take up the new experimental psychology. Peirce gave Jastrow a lifelong reverence for logic for which Jastrow was later criticized when it dominated his approach as a popular media psychologist and a writer of self-help literature. Mental health was, in that later work, represented as the acquisition of the ability to think logically.

Jastrow's doctoral dissertation on psychophysics was widely cited, and still is cited and described in present day psychophysics literature (for instance the book by psychophysicist Lawrence Marks, 1978). Five years after the dissertation, Jastrow already had 25 publications. In William James' Principles of Psychology (1890) he is cited more than any other American psychologist with the possible exception of Cattell. Soon after arriving at Wisconsin, Jastrow (1890) surveyed and summarized, in a long monograph, the results of experimental psychology's first systematic research program of interlocking progressive studies, namely the early mental chronometry research program that began a generation earlier with Wundt. Soon after arriving at Wisconsin, Jastrow invented the "automatograph"-a scientific-instrument version of the Ouija board. [INSERT FIGURE-THE AUTOMATOGRAPH] It was designed to study distinctions between voluntary and involuntary behavior. For instance, the automatic writing sometimes produced with hypnosis might be assessed for its essential characteristics with this instrument. With piles of squiggly records of unconscious hand movements Jastrow claimed to have found important and revealing patterns.

Jastrow's only apparent academic shortcoming, in those early years, was that he lacked a degree from a European university, perhaps a considerable weakness in the American university of the 1880s. In 1869, however, he accompanied William James to the first International Congress of Psychology (in Paris). They were the only two American academics in attendance, and this was the beginning of Jastrow's relationship with James whom he always praised and whose writing style he emulated. Jastrow apparently refrained, judiciously, from criticizing James' final turn to spiritualism, an interest that Jastrow quickly attacked when it appeared in others. The relationship to James sometimes appeared to me to be that of Jastrow tugging at James coattails, with hat in hand, asking for financial help, advice on dealing with administrators, or opinions on the psychological issues of the day (see letters, The Harvard Archives). Jastrow had also been a reader of the fiction of William James' brother, Henry, and had attempted to write fiction in the Henry Jamesian style, though none of it was published (two short stories, Duke Library). Both Jastrow and William James spent summers vacationing near each other on the coast of Maine. On those occasions both were under the care of the same physician for recurring depression.

In the 1890's, Jastrow introduced hypnosis research at Wisconsin and for years thereafter taught a medical hypnosis course in the University's medical school. He eventually turned that course over to Hull. The institutional context and intellectual atmosphere was thus prepared for Hull's unusually precise and quantitative studies of hypnosis (Hull, 1933) which reflected all the rigor soon to be displayed in Hull's elaborate learning theory after his move to Yale.

Jastrow's hypnosis research is a good place to begin the account of his interests because as well as any other work, it locates him in the modern history of psychological ideas. Hypnosis reflects quite well what was the major theme in his writings and his life. That theme was the distinction between voluntary and involuntary behavior and, connected with it, the problem of self-control and self-deception. It was expressed in the concluding paragraph of his (1886) doctoral dissertation which concerned, in one part, the subject of threshold psychophysics and the finding that subliminal stimuli may influence psychophysical judgments. The idea that subliminal stimuli may subtly shape our mental processes was his theme for years thereafter.

The same theme is the topic of his 1906 book, The subconscious, concerning dissociations of mental processes, slips, lapses, suggestibility daydreams, levels of attention, voluntary-involuntary distinctions, subliminal perception, and multiple personality. Typical of his style, the book is unsystematic and rambling. It contains more literary allusions than systematic data. But today's authority in research on slips and lapses of action, James Reason of Manchester England, informs me that he is an avid fan of Jastrow and reads his books (Reason, 1989). And John Kihlstrom, now at Arizona, well-known for hypnosis research, also writes that he is a reader of Jastrow on that topic (Kihlstrom, 1988).

A few years earlier, Jastrow's (1901) book, Fact and Fable in Psychology, a collection of essays built on the same themes as developed later in The Subconscious, was his first commercial success and is his best remembered book. It was reprinted in 1972.

Jastrow's interest in self-control and its deflections or failures is also the connecting thread that runs through his long obsession to expose the frauds and fakery of mind reading, telepathy, feats of magic, spiritism, and religious cults. As I now see it, he continued to write and rewrite those themes for the rest of his life. They underlie his explanations of mental illness. They underlie his commercially successful popular writings and radio broadcasts on self-help psychology which were his sole occupation in the 1930s near the end of his life.


The Career at Wisconsin

In 1888 two years after receiving the Ph.D. degree and after two years of searching for a position, Jastrow was hired as "professor of experimental and comparative psychology" by the young science and engineering oriented University of Wisconsin. The laboratory he then constructed at Madison soon received international recognition when a French science-journalist, Henri Varigny (1894), described it in an article titled ÒLa laboratoire de Madison," which was published in the prestigious Revue Scientifique. Jastrow, however, seemed always to have regarded himself more as a broad renaissance man rather than a mere laboratory researcher. Though hired to import the new scientific psychology, which he did, he preferred his self-anointed role as bearer of culture-in-general to the crude frontiersmen of Wisconsin. In fact, a few years after his arrival at Wisconsin he was forced into bankruptcy in consequence of building a Òpalace of culture,Ó stocked with fine arts, cultural events, and a lavish office for himself, on the edge of the Wisconsin campus.

Jastrow's financial difficulties at Wisconsin, keeping him in debt as well to friends and relatives for many years (see the Duke papers), stemmed partly from the University's refusal ever to give him a substantial salary increase. It must be noted that the Wisconsin president, Thomas Chamberlain, who hired Jastrow was replaced shortly by Charles Adams, formerly president of Cornell, and the man who had refused to give Jastrow a position at Cornell two years earlier, preferring to hire no one and to delay the founding of the Cornell psychology lab rather than hire Jastrow. It was Adams with his punishing iron-handed autocratic ways, an administrator tangled in numerous faculty conflicts both at Cornell and Wisconsin, who always refused to increase JastrowÕs salary. As the pain of that circumstance grew, Jastrow gradually withdrew to activity outside of his university position.

At the turn of the century, Jastrow became perhaps the most forceful critic of the emerging pattern of the administration of universities in the United States, comparing it unfavorably to university administration in other countries. His studies of Òthe administrative peril in education" were in fact the product of detailed research and historical studies (Jastrow, 1912). He worked closely with James McKeen Cattell on this project when Cattell was embroiled in similar conflicts at Columbia. Jastrow helped found the A.A.U.P. with the hope that it would be a radical reformist organization that would foment faculty strikes and shut down those universities ruled by "despots" representing business interests external to the community of scholars.

One important stylistic change in the face of the new psychology came from Jastrow's influence on the form of journal articles. In the American journal of Psychology in a series of articles during 1890-92, he initiated the printing of "Minor studies from the Wisconsin psychology laboratory.Ó When Harvard, Yale, Cornell, and other American universities formally established psychology programs (several years after Wisconsin's), they adopted that same procedure of Jastrow's of publishing shorter, briefer accounts of laboratory work. In contrast to the longer essays dominating early psychology journals, these short articles first stated a simple problem, described a research method, then findings and data analysis, then a conclusion, all in a few pages. Such "minor studies" usually appeared in fine print in the back pages of journals in the 1890s but then emerged as the standard form of research publishing for articles throughout the psychology journals in the twentieth century.

One especially important contribution to the American public's recognition of psychology came from Jastrow's organization and administration of the psychology pavilion at the World's Fair (the Columbian Exposition) at Chicago in 1893. He arranged for the import and display, to a large American audience for the first time, of the best of the world's "new scientific" psychology. It involved mostly the European artifacts of the new science--representations of the best of early work, laboratories, and instrumentation. He then used the facilities of the Fair to collect a massive amount of psychophysical and reaction time data on thousands of subjects who passed through the pavilion. The whole project was patterned after Galton's slightly earlier and similar work in England. It was at this site that Jastrow met the young Hellen Keller and gave her the first systematic tests of her abilities. Jastrow's effort in all this was enormous. Yet Wisconsin had refused to release him from his classes that year, and he was forced to run back and forth between Madison and Chicago for the duration of the Fair. By 1894 he was ill, exhausted, and broke.

Finally Jastrow buckled and caved in under the weight of these difficulties, which landed him in his first serious depression in 1894-95. That forced a leave from teaching and required extended medical care. In 1894 a Chicago newspaper reported these events under the following heading: "Famous mind doctor loses his own" Duke Library). It can be seen in his writings that at about this time, or near the turn of the century, he lost and never regained his early enthusiasm for experimental psychology. But before that change, he had published experimental work in perception, memory, mental testing, psychophysics, and suggestibility.

There were only six psychological doctoral dissertations during Jastrow's years on the Wisconsin faculty. All were interesting and good studies in their time. Hull's 1918 dissertation on concept formation using Chinese characters is still well-known. (Some of Hull's original materials for that dissertation were, by the way, found with the Jastrow papers at Duke.) Years ago when I was a graduate student, and long before I had heard of Jastrow, I began studying the early history of experimental psycholinguistics. I then stumbled upon the first doctoral dissertation completed under Jastrow's direction: J. F. Quantz's Problems in the psychology of reading (1897) which developed the techniques necessary for studying the eye-voice span that occurs when people read aloud and that appears to reflect a short-term memory or buffer-storage in mental processes (Blumenthal, 1970). The other dissertations were those of Wilmot Lane, The psychology and physiology of fatigue (1899), Isaac Ash, Fatigue effects on control (1914), Elizabeth Seaberg, Recognition of complex visual impressions (1919), and Andrew Weaver, Experimental studies of vocal expression (1923).


Alienation And Survival

After the turn of the century and after travels in Europe and the Middle East, Jastrow grew obsessed with building something best described as an ornate Islamic mosque an the top of his palace of culture in Madison. Still there and still containing elegant materials imported from the middle East, it is located in a very large attic in what remains of his old palace of culture. Jastrow used this exotic sanctuary as a place in which to escape the tensions of his world to remain secluded for periods of meditation, or, as G. Stanley Hall wrote in a letter to him, "whatever you do in that place" (Wisconsin Archives). A scant few of Jastrow's more prestigious acquaintances (including Stanley Hall) were invited to see it. Through some considerable negotiations, I was afforded that opportunity. It still is, even in its dilapidated condition, an electrifying thing to behold. My first discovery there, for instance, was to find that the frayed wiring of the ornate Islamic lamps is still live, and I found myself frightfully close to electrocution. After he abandoned it in the mid-1920s, Jastrow's Palace, named "The Altruia" on the ornamental letterhead of his stationary, was used as a boarding house, a sorority house, and now is in the hands of a tightknit radical religious community. The fact of those present occupants should cause the old professor to roll in the grave because he had waged a personal war against religious cults his entire life. I could not help marveling at the old pictures of the once ornately decorated rooms thinking that the house would have made an exquisite bordello. It is worth noting that a good part of early Wisconsin psychology instruction took place in that exotic setting.

Along with the architectural projects surrounding his palace in Madison, Jastrow's interests in the arts, always strong, began to expand, and he began serious art collecting and the teaching of aesthetic theory. After the turn of the century, his interest in experimental psychology had clearly lapsed. When American academic psychology unfolded in its own unique way in the first quarter of this century, Jastrow was left behind, and was left shaken by what he saw as a disastrous turn in the newer efforts to redefine psychology. He applied himself with acid pen to the popular press. In nearly every popular magazine of the day he publish diatribes against behaviorism and against the imported cultish followers of Freud. Unlike his reaction to Watson, however, he always honored Freud as possessing a great mind though misusing it. He perceived both of those movements as evolving into quasi-religious cults-again his usual theme of attack. By this time, Jastrow had easy access to the popular press, for as a result of the early financial failure, he had become a traveling psychologist-entertainer on the commercial lecture circuits of the day. When examining the artifacts surviving from that activity, it appeared to me that Jastrow had almost assumed life of a vaudevillian. Advertisements for, and reviews of, his popular lectures are found in the newspapers of the day across the country (Duke Library). Ironically, his academic lectures back in Madison were considered dull and Òwindbag." Yet on the lecture circuit he proved himself a popular entertainer. (William James, by the way, had the same problem as a lecturer at Harvard while extremely effective as an after dinner speaker with non-Harvard audiences.) Jastrow the entertainer thus dug himself out of his financial hole.

Jastrow taught his last course at Wisconsin in 1925. Rachel finally died in New York of a long and painful illness in 1926. For over a decade, they had divided their lives between the east coast and Madison, and now he found it too difficult emotionally to return to Wisconsin. His writing during this period, mostly concerning the subjects of "character and temperament," may have been his least successful. He had been less and less involved in things at Wisconsin for at least the prior fifteen years. Clark Hull had literally taken over the department even before he finished his dissertation under Jastrow in 1918.

It is interesting how Hull, this one stellar student of Jastrow's, so disliked Jastrow's writing and speaking style. One can easily see how Hull suffered through the hours of listening to Jastrow's long and windy phrases. Scores for both men on the early Strong Vocational Interest Test were preserved years ago by D. P. Campbell (1965). This comparison helps explain why the two men did not mix; Hull scored high on Chemist, Physicist, Physician, and Mathematician; Jastrow was high on Architect, Musician, Artist, and Author-Journalist.

Anyone writing about Jastrow must address his Victorian style. I've commended some of his writings to colleagues who later came back to me with a bearing of pain and perplexity, making me realize that I should have said more to prepare them for what they were about to read (though others were delighted by what they read). Here is an excerpt from one of the more ornate Jastrowisms. It is from his Presidential Address to the American Psychological Association in 1900. Early in the talk, after an already profuse quantity of prologue, he said that the intention of his remarks would be to....

create a mead for a stroll along the shores of psychological waters, with the stroller's privilege of lingering to note what catches his eye and his interest, to watch the procession of the waves and the deposits which they roll up at one's feet, to follow the retreating rush of the waters, to note the action of the tide and the shifting of the sands, and with it all the building of permanent deposits and the shaping of continents. Or, if we prefer to cruise in the waters themselves, we may sail with interest as our compass, and follow a course not too rigidly set. Yet he who cruises to advantage must neither drift nor go as the wind listeth, but follow the invitations of shore and bay, keeping in mind, yet not too consciously, the headlands and reefs, touch at harbor and port, and be not unmindful to cruise in and out among the currents and the undercurrents of contemporary psychology. (Psychological Review, 1901, p. 4)

Jastrow then continued to splash and slosh through the psychological issues of that day.

But let me point something out before anyone scoffs at that style: Some recent library research has revealed to me that the Harvard English department, in the 1960s, put one of Jastrow's books on library reserve as required reading for Harvard English majors. The book was Wish and wisdom (1938) reprinted by Dover Press in 1962. In the preface, Jastrow states his purpose as follows: "My theme concerns the life of reason, and the emotional encroachments, intrusions, distortions, and perversions that illustrate its course and endanger its sanity."

Fortunately for him, Jastrow's retirement was an emotional, if not intellectual, rebirth. He spent the first year of this new life in 1926 as a professional writer and the guest of an old family friend in Boston. There he hired a young assistant to run back and forth between his study and the Harvard library for books and citations. That assistant was the young Frank Geldard, destined to become the leading name in sensory psychology years later. In Geldard's autobiography you find a very positive description of Jastrow. It is in the same category of positive praise as those comments I quoted earlier from the observer of Jastrow at Austen Riggs. Also in that Boston year, Jastrow was active in organizing the collection of funds for the defense in the infamous Sacco and Vanzetti trial.

From 1927 to 1932, Jastrow was a lecturer at the New School in New York. During the next decade he wrote eight books, the best known being The house that Freud built. In 1935, he published one of his sharpest essays in the American Scholar in which he argues passionately that psychology as a science had recently failed, but he holds on to the faith that there is nothing inherent in the subject that should make it fail. Nevertheless, 1935 appears to him to be the threshold of an advancing dark age for theoretical psychology.

For many years Jastrow wrote a syndicated column titled "Keeping mentally fit" that eventually appeared in 150 different newspapers. From 1935 to 1938, he had an NBC radio program also about keeping mentally fit. Near the end of his life, he became even more of a social and moral critic. He left an unfinished manuscript of a book titled Hitler: Mask and myth (Wisconsin Historical Archives). He was honored with a special plaque commemorating his accomplishments and writings at the New York World's Fair at the end of the decade.

Thus, the Rabbi's wayward son finally found himself in a pulpit as a sermonizing crusader as his father had been yet with a congregation likely much larger than any his father ever dreamed of.

(In press: G. Kimble, C. White, and M. Wertheimer (Eds.) Portraits of pioneers in psychology. Erlbaum Publishers.)


REFERENCES

Blumenthal, A. (1970) Language and psychology: Historical aspects of psycholinguistics. New York: John Wiley.

Campbell, D. P. (1965) The vocational interests of American Psychological Association presidents. American Psychologist, 20, 636-644.

Hull, C. L. (1933) Hypnosis and suggestibility. New York: Appleton-Century.

Jastrow, J. (1884) Letter to Henrietta Szold, Wisconsin Historical Archives, Jastrow papers, Madison, WI.

Jastrow, J. and Peirce, C. S. (1884) On small differences in sensation. Memoirs of the National Academy of Science, 3, 1884.

Jastrow, J. (1886) Perception of space by disparate senses. PhD. dissertation. Johns Hopkins University. (Published in Mind, Vol. 2, 1886.)

Jastrow, J. (1890) Time relations of mental phenomena. New York: Hodges.

Jastrow, J. (1901) Some currents and undercurrents in psychology. The Psychological Review, Vol. 8, 1-26.

Jastrow, J. J. (1901) Fact and fable in psychology. New York: Houghton Mifflin.

Jastrow, J. (1906) The subconscious. New York: Houghton Mifflin.

Jastrow, J. (1912) The administrative peril in education. The popular science monthly, November, 315-348. (Reprinted in J. M. Cattell, Ed., University control, 1913.)

Jastrow, J. (1935) Has psychology failed? American Scholar, 1935, 4, 261-269.

Kihlstrom, J. (1988) Letter to A. Blumenthal, Sarah Lawrence College.

Marks, L. A. (1978) The unity of the senses. New York: Academic Press.

Preston, J. H. (1944) Letter to Mrs. Hutchison, Duke University, Rare Manuscripts Library, Jastrow papers.

Reason, J. (1989) Letter to A. Blumenthal, Sarah Lawrence College.

Roback. A. (1964 2nd ed.) A history of American psychology. New York: Library Publishers.

Varigny, H. (1894) La laboratoire de Madison. Revue Scientifique, 1, 624-629.



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