Part 44 (1/2)

The questions which filled this implacable young investigator's mind were these: Is my love worthy? And again: Dare I, insisting on man's unity with all other organisms and subject to the same laws of extinction, entertain the idea of marriage? If the theories I hold are true--if the soul of a child is no more than the animating principle of the ant or the ape (and this I cannot deny)--then of what avail is human life? By what right do men bring other organisms into being knowing that they will only flutter a little while in the sun like b.u.t.terflies and die as unavailingly as moths?

Up to this time he had accepted with a certain calm pitilessness the most inexorable tenets of the evolutionists, and had defended them with remorseless zeal; but on this fair spring morning, with love for Viola stirring in his heart, he found himself far less disposed to crush and confound. He acknowledged a growing sympathy with those who mourn the tragic fact of death.

All that he had read concerning clairvoyance, telepathy, hypnotism, and their allied subjects began to a.s.sume new significance and a weightier importance. He was annoyed to find himself profoundly concerned as to whether the power of ”suggestion” was anything like as coercive as many eminent men believed it to be, and in this awakened interest he 'phoned Tolman (upon reaching his desk), asking him to lunch with him at the club. ”If there is anything in his philosophy I want to know it,” he said, as he turned to his desk.

He found no word from Lambert, and this troubled him. ”If he does not come to-day I must act alone,” he concluded, and attempted to take up his work, but found his brain preoccupied, his hand heavy.

Weissmann came in late, looking old and worn. He, too, had pa.s.sed a restless night. He nodded curtly to his a.s.sistant and set to work without reference to the sitting or the psychic; and yet Morton was very sure his chief's mind was as profoundly engaged as his own, and a little later in the forenoon he stopped at his desk and said: ”Lunch, with me, doctor; I have asked Tolman, and I want to talk things over with you both.”

Weissmann consented in blunt abstraction, and the work proceeded quite in the regular routine so far as he was concerned.

Tolman was the farthest remove from the traditional mesmerist in appearance, being a brisk, blond man of exceeding neatness and taste in dress. He wore the most fas.h.i.+onable clothing, his hair and beard were in perfect order, and his hands were very beautiful. He was, indeed, vain of his slender fingers and gesticulated overmuch. His voice also was a little over-a.s.sertive, but his eyes were clear, steady, and strong.

As they took seats in the cheerful sunlit dining-room of the Mid-day Club, the three theorists formed a notable group and one that attracted general comment, but their conversation would have astonished the easygoing publishers and professional men who were chatting at neighboring tables, so full of interrogation and a.s.sertion was each specialist.

As Tolman rose to speak to a friend at a table across the room, Weissmann confidentially remarked: ”I did not sleep last night, not a wink. I could not satisfy myself about those performances. Therefore I smoked and studied. Last night's test proved nothing to me except that the girl had nothing to do with the phenomena.”

The young man's heart glowed at these words and he feelingly replied.

”To prove that would mean a great deal to me, doctor.”

Weissmann's tired face lighted up. ”So! Then you are interested in her? You love her? I was right, eh?” he asked, with true German directness.

Serviss protested. ”Oh no! I haven't said that; but it troubled me to think of her as a possible trickster. Please don't hint such a thing in Tolman's hearing.”

As the hypnotist returned to his seat, Serviss opened up the special discussion by asking him his opinion of the claims of spiritualists.

This question threw Tolman into a roar. ”That from you, and in the presence of Weissmann, is a 'facer'! What has come over Morton Serviss that he should invite me to a lunch to talk over a case of hysterico-epilepsy, and start in by asking my opinion of spiritualism?

Come, now, out with the real question.”

Serviss perceived the folly of any subterfuge, and briefly presented Viola's history, without naming her, of course, and ended by describing in detail the sitting of the night before, while Tolman ate imperturbably at his chop and toast with only now and then a word or a keen glance.

When the story was finished, he looked up, like a lawyer a.s.suming charge of a witness. ”Now there's a whole volume to say upon what you've told me, and our time is limited to a chapter. Make your questions specific. What point do you particularly want my opinion on?”

”First of all, has the preacher in this case been controlling the girl?”

”Undoubtedly, but not to the extent you imagine.”

”Has the mother?”

”Yes. She has been a great and constant source of suggestion.”

”You would advise taking the patient out of her present surroundings, would you not?”

”Yes, that would be helpful, but is not absolutely necessary. The essential step is to fill her mind with counter-suggestions.” Here he launched into an exposition of the principles and potentialities of hypnotism, and was in full tide of it when Weissmann interrupted to ask:

”But suppose these phenomena actually and independently exist? Suppose that they are not illusions but objective realities, how then will your suggestion help?”

This put Tolman on his mettle. He entered into a discourse filled with phrases like ”secondary consciousness,” ”collective hallucinations,”

”nerve-force,” wherein, while admitting that great and good men believed in the phenomena of ”spiritism,” he concluded that they were overhasty in a.s.signing causes. For his part, the realm of hallucination was boundless. ”The mind has the power to create a world of its own--it often does so, and--”