Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

SONS AND FATHERS.

By Harry Stixxwjsll Edwards,

CHAPTER XXVII.—The Face That Came in Dreams. Virdow was in his youth a follower of Hegel, and thoroughly impregnated with the speculative philosophy oi the age. He believed in the triadic formula of Fichte — thai, a positive and negative, where the positive was sound, would produce a result blending the original positive through differentiation as surely as would the seed, through dissolution and differentiation into i-Dot, stalk, leaf, and flower, reassert itself. Out Of the contention of philosophy, which centred in Germany during tbte early t.att of this century, the positive idealism of mind and religion by Hegel and the negative materialism of his opponents, would arise a beautiful synthesis, and with this his name would be for ever associated. He had watched the advance and development of free thought, political and religious liberty; and speculative philosophy with patience and intelligence. It seemed to him that root, stalk, and leaf had developed, a d that the hour was at hand for the bloom itself. ** Eagerly he waited upon the first sign of this coming, as eagerly, it may be thought, as the wise men of old who- foretold the coming of the Redeemer, possibly on the same scientific basis. That synthesis he dreamed would be, in its completeness, a discovery of mind-memory as distinguished from brain-memory, and a way to command it.

The close of the nineteenth century is not remarkable for its progress along the lines of psychic research, but memory and consciousness, Siamese twins since men began to study the processes of the mind and of memory, have been divorced. It has been shown that they are- separate and independent; thai 1 -the nerve cells .may act from a memory of former impression without the possibility of consciousness. Stamped upon it is a habit; this habit may be awakened by experiments, even after the consciousness of the braid above is destroyed. This is so trim it no longer seems wonderful. Had ViruW's theory been that by the aid ot the same or a like stimulus applied to certain nerve cells he could repeat some demonstration which it had forgotten by disuse ; if the hand of (>erald had been trained to the violin in youth, and he could restore to it for the moment its wonted skill, he would have -been formulating Upon scientific grounds ; the fact that no one had deliberately accomplished this in advance of him need not have deterred him ; the basis of his idea was sound and established. If lie proposed merely by his experiments to stir to action again soma closed cell in the higher region of the hraiu, its the seat of consciousness itself, he would have been attempting what disease or sudden fear of death had done before him iv tho history of every ob.serv.-int age. What ho was attempting, however, was far above and beyond either ; it was based upon the assumption of a mind able to exist apart from consciousness and brain memory, an active solf-propollant separate entity, having its own sphere, its own experiences, and a memory never developed by man. He could not conceive of a mind without a memory of its own ; a mind independent of its brain home, and the myriad channels that connect it with, and make it conscious of this life. All this beautiful array of nerve and blood, ho argued, is the mind's system of contact with tho world. Through them it is informod and acts upon matter. Through them it. has made the world of today, from the simple elements of creation. \yiiere was its other home—that world in which he was obliged to believe it wandered froth the sleeping cells at night, the paralysed colls in aickness and the ruined cells at death ?

He went further ; this mind had advanced tho boundaries of the physical powers it in%'oked, until men were nob far from tho limits of the sun-seen world. Some day, by its marvellous power, it would dovelop its system until its hidden tneimry, the stun of its experience abroad, would be linked to human consciousness, and tho two systems merge; when through some wonderful sense developed/would read the memories of the mind, and read its history b.ick to its youth. It was a' gigantic dream, based upon an ambition as bounttlesa as Lucifer's, since from infancy almost.he had been taught that mind wa9 a part of God Himself.

Virdow Mas not a scientist in the strict sense of the term. He had been a fairly good nuwician in youth, and had advanced somewhat in art. He was one of those modern scientists, who are nob waded in by pasb conclusions, but who like Morse, loan forward from a vantage point, and build back to connect with old results" Early in life he had studied the laws of vibrabion, until ib seemod revcalad to ..hi in that all forms, all fancies, were born of it. Gradually, as his beautiful denrinstrations were made, and all arb co-ordinated upon bhis law, ho saw in dreams « fulfilment of his hopes that in Lis age, in his life, might bloom the fairest flower of science, a mind memory opeucd to mortal consciousness.

Dreaming further along the lines of Wagner, it had come la i'liiirifchat.tholteyto this hidden, dumb, and sleeping record.of the nu'utl was vibration ;. tliat the strains of music which summon beautiful, dreams. to the minds of'men were magic, wands lifting; the vision-of this past; nob its immediate; pi3b, but the past of ages; for in the brain of the subtle Gentian was firmly fixed the belief, that, the minds of men '-were; in their la3t analysis one and indivisible, and older than the molecules of physic.il creation. He held-triumphantly that "then sh_.lL you see clearly," was but Otis' way of saying " then shall you remember." /

To this man the mind picture which fifccald" had drawn, the -church, with lis tra'gii: figures, came as a reward of a generation of labonr.'r He had followed lmiiiy a false trail and failed in hospital and asylum. Thovgmintasma.q.ma of the disordered brain wore but as the flashing lights from prison windows, where hurrying guards wrestled with desperate men. In Gerald he hoped for a sound, active brain, combined with the faculty of expression in many languages and the finer power of^art; an organism sufficiently delicite to into that viewless vinculum between body and soul ; vibration, rhythm?, and co-ordinations delicate enough, to touch a new consciousness and return its reply through organised form. He had found theso conditions perfect, and he felb that if failure was the result, while still firmly fixed in his belief, never again would an opportunity of merit present itself. If in Gerald his theory failed of demon-tration, the mind's past would be, in his lifetime, locked to his mortal consciousness. In 'brief, he had found the conditions lie had sought so long, and upon these his life hope Was staked.

Mnch of this he stated as they sat in the wing-room. Gerald lay upon the divan when he began talking, lost in abstraction, but as the theory of the German was gradually unfolded Edward fix his bright eye upon the speaker, that lie' became restless and excibed. When the explanation ended he was walking the floor.

" Experiment with frogs," he said, abruptly ; " accidents to the human brain and vivisection have proved*the separateness of memory and eoneiousness ; and Mr Cox, in his eulogy on Morse, gave to literature the phrase "viewless vinculum between body andvsoiil.? But I shall do better; I shall give to the world a complete picture descended from parent to child —an inherited brain picture of. which the mind is thoroughly conscious."-jtis listeners waited, in breathless suspense ; both to what he referred. "But," he added, shaking his head, " that does not carry us out of the material world." \

His ready knowledge of .subject, his quick grasp of. the proposition, and his memory of the quotation, astonished Virdow beyond" expression. " Go on," he said, simply. " When that fusion of mind and matter occurs," said Gerald, positively; "when the consciousness is put in touch with the mind's unconscious memory, there will be no pictares seen, no records read ;, we shall simply broaden out, comprehend, understand, grasp, know. That is all!. It will not come to this world, but to individuals, and, lastly, it has already come? Every original thought that dawns upon a hum#, every intuitive conception of the truth, every discovery ofa law, marks the point where a mind yielded something of -imemory to human consciods- . nes3." ._*'■ Mi .- J ■<*;' ' . ' The professor moved uneasily in his seat; * Copyright. —This story—out of 816 competing— was awarded the FIRSX PRIZE—ICOOOdoU (SaWO)— in the Ohicaqo"Ktcords "30,Q0OJolsto Authors" Competition, for the best " stories of mystery."

both he and Edward were overwhelmed with the surprise of the demonstration that behind the sad environment of this being dwelt a keen, logical mind. The speaker paused and smiled ; his attention was not upon his company. "So,* he said, softly, "come the songs into the mind of the poet, so the harmonios to the singer and sO the combination of colours'to the artist-; so the rouuded periods of oratory and so tho conception that makes invention possible. No facts appear, because facts are the results of laws, the proofs of truths. The mind memory carries none of these; it carries laws and the truth which interprets it all; and when men can hold their consciousness to the touch of mind without falling apart, they'will'stand upou the plane of their Creator because they will then be fully conscious of* the eternal laws and in harmony with them." "And you," said Virdow, greatly affected, " have you over felt the union of consciousness and mind memory ?" " Yes," he replied ; " what I have said is the truth ; for it rarrie from an inner consciousness without previous determination and intention, without even previous formulation. lam right, and you know lam right." Virdow shook his head.

" I had hoped," he said, gently, " that in this mind memory dw»*lt pictures. We shall see, we shall see." Gerald turned away impatiently and threw himself upon his couch. Presently in the silence which ensued rose the solemn measure of Mendelssohn's heartbeat march. The strange, sad, depressing harmony filled the room ; even Virdow felt its wonderful power and sat mute and disturbed. Suddenly'he happened to gaze toward Gerald. He lay with ashen face and rigid eyes fixed upon the ceiling, to all appearances a corpse. Virdow bounded forward and snatched the bow from Edward's hand.

" Stop !" he cried ; " for his sake stop, or you will kill him." They dragged the inanimate form to the window and bathed the face. A low moan escaped the young man and then a gleam of intelligence came to hia eyes. He tried to speak, but without success ; an expression of surprise and distress came upon his face as he rose to his feet. For n» moment he stood gasping, but presently his oreath camo normally. "Temporal')' aphasia," he said, in alow tone. Going to the easel he drew rapidly the picture of a woman kneeling nbovo the prostrate form of another, and stood contemplating it in silence. Edward and Virdow came to hia side, the latter pale with excitement. Gerald did not notice them. The back of the kueeling woman was shown, but the face of tho other was d stinct, calm, and beautiful. It was the girl in the small picture. "That face—that face!" he whispered. " Alas ! I see it only as my ancestor saw it." Hc'resumod his lounge dejectedly. "You have seen it before, then!" said Virdow, earnestly. ' " Before ! In my ilroams from childhood ! It is a face associated with mc always. In the night, when the wind blows. I hear a voted calling Gerald, and this vision comes, comes. Once when a boy I lay in the grass gazing into the lake where the clouds were passing and it rained, and as the drops beat upon the surface there rose a rhythm and tho voice of" the rain said: ' I was oncp a little stream and a waterfall, and the warm sun changed mc. This was long, long ago and I knew her then, Gerald, whose face dwells by you.' Shall I tell yottji secret " Hi. voice had become lower and lower and now was inaudible. Placing his hand upon the wrist Virdow said :

'•' He sleeps ; it ia well. Come away, my young friend ; I have learned much, bub the experience might have been dearly bought. Some time I will explain." Noiselessly they withdrew from Edward's room. Edward was depressed. "You have gained, but nob I," he said. The back of the kneeling womau was toward him.

" Wait," said Virdow; "all things oannot ho learned in a night. We do not know who witnessed that scene" CHArri_R XXVltL—The Thuke Pictures. Virdow had arisen and been to town when Edwai'd made -his appearance late in the morning. After tossing on his jnllow all night, at daylight he had fallen into a long, dreamless sleep. Gerald was looking on, and the professor was arranging an ex_»eri mental apparatus of some kind. He had suspended a metal drum from thr* arch of the glass-room by steel wires, and over the upper end of the drum had drawn tightly a sheetf of rubber obtained from a toy balloon manufacturer, lv the base of this drum he inserted a hollow stein of tin, one arid of which like a trumpet.. Toe whole machine when complete pres-nlcl the appearance of a gigantic pipe; the. enlarged. When Edward oame t in he HvasJ spreading upou, the rubber surface of the' drum an almost impalpable powder, taken from one of the irou nodules which lay about on the surrounding hills and slightly moistened. "I have been oxplainiug to Gerald," said Virdou', cheerily, "some of my bases for hopes that vibration is the medium through which to affect that ether wheroin floats what nion call tho mind, and am getting ready to show the co-ordinations of forms with certain measures of vibration. Edward, you have a trained, voice; I want you-to sing now a note into the mouth 6f tin's -edoohone, beginning with medium force and increasing.steadily and evenly. /Try what you Americans call 'A' in: tho middle register and remember that youhave before you a detective that will oaten your -lightest error." He was cl-.ing d prs aud openings -as he spoke. ':, Edward obeyed. Placing his mouth near; the trumpet opening he-began. The simple note, pisoloaged, ritng out hi the silent room, increasing in strength to a certain point and o.'iding übrupfty. Then was seen i> marvellous thin j ; aaimated,. the coinpositiou upon the disk rushed to the exact ceufcre and then' tremulously began to ta_e definite skapo. • A little medallion appeared, surrounded by; minitto dots, ond from these li tje tongues rau outward. Tlio note died away and only thebt'et&htns; of Use eager wabuhera was heard. Beforo them in bas-relief was a red daisy, as perfect, ay, more nearly perfect than, arr, could supply. Gerald after a moment turned his head and seemed lost in thought. " From that we might infer, 1 ' said "Vjrdow, "that the daisy is the 'A'/ note of, the world; that of it is boyu all the daisy class of flowers, irom the sunflower down—all vibrations of a standard." . - ■ . / Agnin and ag.iin was repeated, with the same rosuilt. . "_How try ' C,'" said the German, and Edward obeyed. Again the mass rushed togetherAbub this time it spread into the form of a'pansy. Aud "then with other notes -came fern shapes, trees and figures that resembled the scale armour of fish. And finally; from a softly sounded and prolonged note, a- perfect serpent in coils appeared, with every ring distinctly marked. This form was varied by repetition to shells and •cornucopias. ■"■.-,_. So through the musical "scale went the experiments, each* yielding a new and distinct form where the notes differed. Virdow enjoyed the wonder of Edward and the calm concentration of Gerald."* He continued :

" Thus runs the scale in colours ; each of the seven—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, ' indigo, and violet is a note and, and as there are notes in music that harmonise*, so in colours there are the same notes, the hues of Saich blend harmoniously. What are they do with the mind memory? This : A*a" certain number of vibrations called to life in i music the shell, in light the colour, and in music the note, so o}nce0 } nee found will certain notes', or more likely their co-ordinations, , awaken the memories of the mind, since in- ' fallibly by vibrations .were they first born. '* This is the border |a>ad of speculation, yon think, and you are partly correct. What | vibration cfnld have fixed the form oi the daisy and the shape we have found in nature is uncertain, but remember that the earth swings in a.hollow drum qf air as resonant and infinitely more sensitive than the rubber ; and remember also that no man knows what ia under his feet. We may walk above a vacuum or tremendous mass of vibrant heat whose sounding board is the earth's crust. And the brain—there is a philosophic necessity for the shape of a man's head." "If,"said Gerald, "you had said these vibrations awakened the memories of the brain instead of mind, I could have agreed with yon. Yours are on the order of the 'London I am familiar with them, but only through reading." Again Virdow wondered, but he continued :

." The powers of tibration are not undo'/, stood—in fact, only dreamed of. Oalv one

man in the world, your Keelyy has appreciated its possibilities, and he is involved in the herculean effort to harness it to modern machinery. It was vibration simply that affected Gerald so deeply last night; a rhythm co-ordinating with his heart. I have seen vast audiences—and you have too, Edward—painfully depressed by lhat dangerous experiment of Mendelssohn's, for the heart, like a clock, will seek to adjust itself to rhythms. Your- tempo was less thiu seventy-two to the minute ; Gerald's delicate heart caught time and the brain lacked blood. A quick march would have sent the blood faster and brought exhilarations. Under the influences of march time men cheer and do deeds of valour that they would not otherwise attempt, though the measure is sounded only upon a drum ; but when to this time is added a\econd, a third, and a fourth rhythm, and the harmonies of tone against tone, colour against colour, in perfect co-ordination, they are no longer creatures of reason, but heroos or victims of the subtlest inllucnces'of creations. The whole matter is subject to scientific demonstration.

" Poe went to the limits of knowledge ono way on the subject, and Lanier to its limits the other, but since that time mon have gone beyond Lanier, whoso explanation of the 5-4 and 5-8 rhythm in all your English poetry is based upon your heart-beats, and wondered if the respiration itself is not the scientific basis of all rhythm into which human sound has been co-ordinated.

-"But back to' this 'heart-beat march.' The whole nerve system of man since the infttnej* of the race has been subject to the rhythm of the heart, every atom of the human body is attuned to it; for while length of life, breadth of shoulders, chest measure and stature have changed since the days of Adam, we have no evidence that the solemn measure of the heart, sending its seventy-two waves against all the minute divisions of the human machine, has ever varied in the normal man. Lessen it, as on last night, and the result iB distressing. And as you increase it, or substitute for it vibratiom more rapid against those myriad nerves, you exhilarate or intoxicate. " But has anyone ever sent the vibration into that ' viewless vinculum' and awakened the hidden mind? As oiii' young friend testifies, yes ! There have been times when these lower co-ordinations of song and melodies have made, by a momentary link, mind and matter and of these times are born the world's greatest treasures—jewels wrested from the bills of eternity ! What has been done by chance, science should do by rule." Gerald had listened, with an attention not hoped foiv-but the conclusion was anticipated in his quick mind. Busy with his portfolio, he did not attend, but upon the professor's conclusion he turned with a picture in hand. It was the drawing of the previous night. " What is it ?" he asked.

"A mind picture, possibly," said Virdow. " You mean by that a.picture never impressed upon the brain, ' but living within the past experience of the mind ?" "Exactly." "And I say ib is simply a brain picture transmitted to mc by heredity." " I deny nothing ; all things are possible. Bub by whom ? One of those women ?" Gerald started violently and looked suspiciously upon his questioner. Virdow's face betrayed nothing. " I do nob know," sftid Gerald; " you have gaps in your bheory and this is the gap in mine. Neither of these women could have seen this picture ; there must have been a third person." Virdow smiled and nodded his head.

"And if there was a third personihe is my missing witness. From him comes your vision—a true mind picture." " Aud this ?" Gerald drew from the folio a woman's face—the face that Edward had "shown, but idealised and etlierealined. " From whom comes this ?" cried the ypung man with growing excitement, "For I swear to you that I have never, except in dreams, beheld it, no tongue has- described ib : lb is mine by memory alone, not plucked from subtle ether mind, but from the walls of rrffSsg?alone. Tell mc." Virdow shook lit-* heacrf'he was silent for fear of the excitement. .]iub Gerald came and stood by him with the tljspi pictures ; his voice was strained and and his tones judt audible. 7%S^ " The face in this and the sleeper s face in this are the, same ; if.ypu were on the stand' to answer for a friend's life would you say of mc, this man'descends from ; the Itneelirig woman?" i Virdow.looked upon Wm nn-. flincliingly. "I would answer, as by niy belief in God's creation, that by this tesbimony you descend from neither, for the brain that held those pictures could belong to neither woman. One could not hold an ethereahzed picture of her own face, nor one a true likeness of her own back." Gerald replaced the sheets.: r. '

"You have told mc what I knew," he said; "and yet—from one of them I am descended and the pictures are true." He took his hat and boat paddle and left them abruptly., The portfolio stood open. Virdow wont to close it, bub there was a third drawing dimly visible. Idly lie drew it forth. Ib was the picture of a white seagull and above it was an: arch ; beyond were the bending trees of the first picture. Both men studied ib curiously, bub with varying emotions. ; .{TOfbe Continued.)

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP18980319.2.6

Bibliographic details

Press, Volume LV, Issue 9989, 19 March 1898, Page 2

Word Count
3,824

SONS AND FATHERS. Press, Volume LV, Issue 9989, 19 March 1898, Page 2

SONS AND FATHERS. Press, Volume LV, Issue 9989, 19 March 1898, Page 2