SOULS AND SPIRITS.

NZ Truth, Issue 104, 15 June 1907, Page 7

SOULS AND SPIRITS.

DIOGENES DOOLEY DISCOURSES.

The " New England Conscience " Considered.

Coffceming the Weighing of a Soul

The Puzzling Personalities of Didactic Dooley.

That amusing literary creation, Dooley, has bad much to say, recently, concerning a statement to the effect that a scientist m Massachusetts has discovered how to weigh What he calls "the soul." In a recent issue .of the San Francisco "Bulletin" Dooley holds forth on this subject, and also on the subject of '•'Spiritualism, with, regard to which he holds what are somewhat peculiar yiews, In the. opinion of Dooley, apparently, people win find> that which wey expect to find, and, although the Spiritualist "medium" be an impostor — as may be the case— yet he fray give informajtion, according to Pootey, of no little value. Here is ifohut Dooley says on souls and spirits :— .<s ■< "Well, sir," said Mr Dooley, "I! wonder where Science is goi>n' to' stop?" "What's it done now ?" asked Mr Hennessy., r . v Th' latest thing," said Mr Dooley, ■*'is weighiai' th' human soul., A fellow up m Matsachoosetts has' dome it. He weighs ye befure ye die and be weighs ye afther ye die," an' th' difference is what ye'er soul weighs. He's discovered that th' av'rage weight rv a soul m New England is six ounces or a little less. Fr'm this he argies that TH' CONSCIENCE ISN'T PART iv th' soul. If it was th' soul wud bo m th' heavy-height class, I'r th' New England conscience is no feath.er. He thinks it don't escape with th' soul, but lies burrid inth' roons iv its old family home, th' liver. ' "It's so simple it must be true, an' if it Ain't true, anyhow it's simple. But it's a terrible thing to think iv. I can't see army money m it as an invintion. Who'll want to have his soul weighed ? Suppose ye'er time has come ? ' The fam'iy 'ar-re busy with their own thoughts, grievin' because they hadn't been as good to ye as they might, because they won't have ye with them army more, because it's too latefr* thim |0 ik|uare $him&*lv&t pftyltf ytf fefcv

cause ye'er not areniainin' to share sorrows with thim, wondhrin' whether tHi' black dhresses that were bought m honor iv what people might say if they didn't wear thim m mimrv iv Aunt Eliza, wud foe -noticed if they were worn again f'r. ye. ,. Th' very youajg! mdmibers iv'th' fam'ty ar-re standin' round, thryin' to look as sod as they ought td look, But they can't keep it up. They nudge each other, their eyes wandher around th' room, and fr'm time to time they glanoe over at coirsin Felix an' . expect him to make a laugb'ble;face. He's a gr-reat frind iv theirs, end they're surprised he isn't gayer. Somethin' must've happened to him. Maybe he's lost this joh. There ar-re a gr-reat many noises m th' sthxeet. TH' IT DERTAK.BR WHISTLES ' as he ©oes .iby, an' two' iv th' inedghbiors ar-re at ■tih'' gate sayin' what a fine man ye were if ye didn't dhrink, an' askdn' did ye leave much. "An' little ye care. Everything is a mmyon miles away fr'm ye. F'r ith'. first time m ye'er Hie ye ar-re yerersilf. F'r Hiven knows how ma&r ny. years ye've 'been somebody else. Ye've been y«'er wife, ye'er fam'iy, ye'er relations, th' polisman on th 1 ' heat, th' doctor, th' newspaper rayporther, th' foreman at th' mills, tb.' laws iv th' lanwi, th' bartinder that gives ye dhrinks, th' tailor, th' barber, an' public opinion. Th' wuTruld has held a lookin' glass m front iv ye fr'm th' day ye were born an" compelled ye to make faces m it. But m this here particular business ye have no wan to. please but ye'ersilf. Good opinyon and bad opinyon ar-re alike. Ye're akellv urithroubled be gratichood an', revenge. No wan can help ye or stay ye. Ye're beyond th' sound of *th' alarm-clock an' th' facthry whistle an' beginnin' th' Big Day Off whin th' man iv Science shakes ye be th' . elbow an' says : 'Ye've got to weigh out.' An' HE WtfTGHS AN' FIGURES: 'Wan hundhred an' forty-sivin fr'm i jkk* fewftd-fepe* W ffiyj j&ivfc* te'm

naught can't bo dono ; borry wan ; sivdn fr'm ten leaves three. I find that the soul iv our late laminted frJnd weighed a light three pounds avirdoopoisc., < "No, sir,' itw^n't do. 'Twill fti vet be popylar. People "won't havetheiß souls weighed. I wudden't for all th' wurruld have th' wurrud go through th' ward : 'Did ye hear a-bou-t Dooley's soul?' 'No, what?' 'Thov had to get an expert accountant to figure its weight, it was that puny.' '•'•D'ye suppose Dorgan, the miUyonaire, wud consint to it ? When he entered th' race iv life he was properly ham^icappexi \Vi<bh a soul to offset his avarice an' feis ability, so that some iv ih' rest iv us wud have a kind iv a show against him. But as soon as 'he thinks no wan can see him he begins to; get rid iv his weigihit an' oomes rompin' home miles ahead. But th' judges say : 'Hold on, there, yell have to weigh out,' an' a little later a notice is posted up that Ddrgan is disqualified 'f'r ridin' undher weight m TH 1 MATTER IV SOUL. On W other bsmd, there's little Miss Mad'diig-an, the seamstress. She' 3 all but left at th' post ; she's jostled all th' way around, an' oomes m lame, a tad last. But she's th' only wan iv th' lot that's kept th' weight She weighs ninety-six pounds— six iv it bein' tea an* toast an' ninety iv it soul. An' amid exclamations of rage fr'm Chianoeltor Day, who has pluDiged heavily on Dorgan m thds Futurity, an' cries iv ijoy from a thousand Fa-' iihev Kellys, who have backed the filly, her numiier is hung out. !"No, sir, whin it comes to goin' up to th' scales to have their souls weighed' people'll be as shy as they are m a Customs House. Th' people that wud make th' invin<tion pay wud be th' last to / want to be tested by it. Th' pa-apers migfrt keep records iv th' results : 'Misther So-an'-So, th' great captain iv finance, died yes-, terday, universally regretted. His estate amounts to NINETEEN IpLLYON DOLLARS. There are two large hequests to charity. Warn is a thrust fund set aside f'r his maiden sister Anny belle, who will receive f'r life th' income on eight hundhred dollars m stock iv th' Hackensack Meadows Comp'ny. Th', other is forty-two dollars to buy a wooden leg f'r his brother Isaac, m Abilene, Kansas, it bein' understood that no charge • is to be made be th' estate against fth' brother f'r a set iv- false teeth bought f'r him m th' year nineteen four. Th' balance iv th' property is left, m trust f'r th' minor childhex untill they ar-re 90 years old. Th' deceased requested that ' his soul be measured by troy weight. It tipped th' beam at wan pennyweight." "D'ye think th' soul can he weighed ?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "I know it's there, hut I think— l kind ar ■ feel— l wondher— l don't hardly i know " I "I see what ye mean," said My. I Dooley. "Scales and clocks ar-re NOT TO, BE THRUSTED to decide anytb-infi that's worth tic cid'ing. Who tells time be a clock? Ivry hour is the same to a clock an' ivrv hour is different to me. Wan lons, wan short. There ar-re hours m th': evemiin' tiiat pa;ss 'between tv. o ticks iv 'tfo' clock ; there ar-re hoin:, m the' early mornin' whin a man can't sleep that Methusalah's age cud stretch m. Clocks are hswichool liars, an' so ar-re scales. As soon as anything gets good, enough to weigh ye can't weigh it. Scales ar-re f'r th' other,, fellow. I'm perfectly willin' to take yer weight -cr ye'er soul's weight fr'm what th' scales say. Little I care. A pound, or two more or less makes no diff'rence. But when it comes to measurin' something that's "recious to me I'll not trust it to a slight improvement . ON A SEE-SAW. ! "But what do I know about it, annyhow ? What do I know about army thing I've been pitchin' information into ye f'r more years thin annywan iver wun-t to colledse, an' I tell you now I don't like to thrust mesilf forward. I'm a modest man. Won't somebody else get up ? Won't ye get up, Tiddy. Rosenfelt, won't ye, Willum Jennings Bryan, ! won't ye President Eliot, wont ye, pro-fissors, preachers, dootors. lawyers, iditors. Won't annybody get up ? Wont annybody say what they don't kaow about annything worth knowin' about ? Thin be Hivens, I wall. All alone I stand, up befure me class— an' how much more humbly befure me ■ tjaaoher ?— an' say •: 'Himn-issy, about .army thing that can't be weighed on a scales or measured with a tape line I'm as ign'rant as ye'er self. I'll have to Day ye back th 1 money I took fr'm ye f'r schoolin'. It was OBTAINED BE FALSE PRETENSES.' i "How can I know anything whin I- haven't puzzled out what I am meself ? I am Dooley, ye say, but ye'er only a casual obsarver. Ye don't care anything about me ilcta/ils. Ye look at me with a g-in'ral eye. Nawthin' that happens to me really hurts ye. V© say, 'I'll go over an' see Dooley,' sometimes, bur, more often ye say, "I'll go over to Dooley 's.' I'm a house to ye, wan iv a thousand that look like a row iv model wurrukin'-men's cottages. I'm a post to hitoh ye'er silenc.-s to. I'm always the same to ye. But to me I'm a millyon Dooley's an' all iv them strangers to ME. I niver know which wan iv thim is comin' m. I'm like a hotel-keener with only one Ibed an' a miillion jrivasts, who come , wan at a time, { t.' tumble each other out. I sit up J.vte at niaht an' pass th 1 bottle w'th a gay and careless Doolev that hasn't a sorrow m the wurruld, an 1 suddenly I look up an' see settin' acrost fr'm me A GLOOMY WRETCH that fires' the drink out of the window an' chases me to bed. I'm just getting used to him whin another Dooley comes m, a cross, cantankerous crazy fellow that insists oh ca ':■.• in' breakfast with me. An' so it goes. I know more about mesilf than annyl:ody knows, an 1 I know nawthin?. Though I'd make a map fr'm mem'ry an' gossip iv army other man. f'r mesilf I'm still uncharted. "So what's the use iv tryin' to know annythin' less important ? Don't thry. All ye've got ( to do is to believe what ye hear, and if ye do that enough afther a while yell hear what ye believe. Ye'vo got to start m believin' befure ye can fn it a reason f'r ye'er belief. Our old ■ friend- Gkti&topher Golumbus hadn't '

army good reason f'r believin' tlidt there was army such place as America. -But he believed it without W* reason, and thin wint o ut an' found it. Th' fellows that discovered the canals on Mars -which other fellows think cud be cured be a Rood oculist hadn't army right to think there were CANALS ON MARS. , But wan iv thim said : 'I wonder if there ar-re canals on Mars ? I believe there ar-re ; I'll look an' see. Be Hivens. there ar-re.' If he'd wondhered an' thin believed abaut clothes noles he'd've found thim, too. Annv kind iv a fact is pr O oi ir a belief. A firm belief attracts facts. They come out iv holes, m tli' ground an' cracks m the wall to support belief, but tlu-y run aaway fr'in doubt. "I'll niver get army medal f'r m*kin' army man Rive up his belief. If I see a fellow with a chute on his eye an' hear him holflrin', 'Hooray; I've discovered a uew planet.' I'll be the last man m fclw wurruld to brush th' fly off th' end iv th' telescope. I've Known neonle that see ghosts. I didn't see thim, but they did. They cud see ghoscs an' I cudden't. There wasn't annythino; else to it. I knew a fellow that was" a Spiritualist wanst. He was m th' chattel morcedKe business on week days, and he was a Spiritualist ori Sunday. He cud understand why th' spirits would always Dick out a stout lady with false hair or a ! £intleman that had j his thumb mark r'e£istbered at Polis Headquarters to talk, through, an' he knew why spirits, liked to play on banjoes ah' mandolins, an' why they convarsed fee RAPPIN 1 ON A TABLE m- tit* dark. Th' only reason I ci<d think iv was that they'd .always lived m boordin' houses an' cuddea't Ejet rid of the customs. "But he had the best iv me. Pc believed an' I doubted. He took do to what he called a see-ance wanst. They gave him a front seat. I. heerd a good deal iv talk among th' spirits behind the curtains. Says wan with German accent : "Who's the fellow iv th' old comeon ?' 'Oh, liie don't amount to annythin. T . ah' annyhow ye cohldn't wake th' old boy up if ye set fire to him.' 'Hurry alon? with them feathers, says another spirit voice. I turned to me frind an' I . see be the look m his eyes that it wudi he a waste iv effort to impose on him. 'They come,' he says. 'It is Ungawana, he says, as the ghost iv a- noble red ■ man iv the forest appe&ce.i through th' curtain, mutterin' : 'Himmel, why didn't ye ret thai, chain out iv th' way ?' He lookedevery inch a warrior fr'm th' war bohnet on his head to th' congress pip'iters on his feet. 'Is Israel Simpson here?' says he. 'Yes,' says me frin.4. 'What can I do ior ye today, great chief ?' 'Do ye know a man be the name of Mullarkey ?', 'I do, 1 says Simpson'. 'I see him car-, ryin' a rockin'-chair down stairs,-' says the haughty Pattywatomje. 'BIG CHIEF' WANTS WAMPUM.' he says. Simpson pressed a roll iv, bills into his swarthy hands an' says to me : 'Come along, tfotick.' '.What f'r ?■' says I r 'Mull&rkey ds moving bis furniture, and I have a morgedge on it,' says he. 'Th' Injun always advises me right on matters iv business;' says he. An' there was a man that wud bite a silver dollar m two befure he'd take it f'r r-ood." "My aunt seen a ghost wanst," said Mr. Hennessy. "Ivery body's aunt has seen a ghost," said Mr. Dooley.