The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-10-18
By
A
CLUB
WOMAN
G A 5 u AL
CO NJ NJ Z n 7

men seem to be less in evidence than else
where. AS for the remark about only nifty
thousand handsome men, 1t must have been
a blind man who took that census.
Mr. Matthews names a few persons who
have been successful writer's and also in
valids, viz Pope, Samuel Johnson, Cowper,
De Quincy, Gibbon. Any
Genius and of us could extend the list
Disease. on the spur of the moment
Rousseau. Parkman, Stev-
enson, Henley, for instance, and one greater
than any of them, Mrs. Browning.
But what does any such list prove? Ger
tainly not in the least the inference that
Mr.. Matthews draws: that there is some
necessary connection between genius and
disease. 1t only shows that some persons
possess a splendid power of making the
soul control the body. Old Genera! Clark,
when he heard the doctors saying he could
not live till morning, and promptly sat up
and called for cigar and glass of whisky
and grimly announced that he had not
fought through twenty-seven great battles
to be killed at last by drunken cab-driver,
gave a striking illustration of this power.
The people who cured Of real, not imag-
mary, diseases by mind cure, faith cure,
Christian Science. or miraculous fountains,
must be people who are capable of being
reused to the exercise of the same power.
Let a person who possesses this power be
also endowed with genius, and he may be a
great writer. although an invalid. never be-
cause he is one. However fine the pr0duc-
tions of the invalid may be, doubt not that
they would have been finer if he had been
well. Mems sana in corpore sano' Is still
the condition of the highest achievement
If Shakespeare had been an invalid and a
recluse. instead of strong man among
men, he would still have been a great genius,
but his writings might have shown the
same touch of morbid emotional strain that
Mrs. Browning's have, instead of breathing
sunshine and free winds and all outdoors,
as they do.
when I went to college," began the
Botanical One "it was so long ago that the
textbook in philosophers psychology, as
they call it nowadays-was
Time-Sense Hamilton's Metaphysics
and Ions. One chapter-a refreshing
bit of lighter matter sand
wiched in between the discussions of the
problem of External Perception and the de-
velopment of the Philosophy of the Condi-
tioned-was Does the Mind Ever SleepY
and one of the instances given was that
many persons can wake UP at any given
hour of night or morning on which they de-
termine before going to sleep. This proved,
the old philosopher said, that the mind must
keep awake to hear the clock strike.'
You know they relegate that gift to the
subconsciousness, now,' said the Critical
One. THE subconsciousness is so convenient
las nobody knows anything about it, nor,
| from the nature of things, ever can know.
it is such good explanation of everything
that is MISUNDERSTANDING the piano, for
| instance. Somebody was marveling at the
memory of pianist, who played classic
music a whole evening, without a note be-
| fore him. Now, the memory doesn't seem so
| strange to me; can remember things my
| self, or could, when L was younger-but that
| anybody can do it at all is the mystery.
Whether the notes were before him or not,
: that each of his ten fingers could strike the
right note at the right moment, playing the
four parts of the harmony in perfect time
and paying no attention to il, having the
mind fixed on the expression and tempo,
etc.-that is what 1 can't understand. But
| It's the subc0nsciOusness that does il. AS
| long the conscious brain is working at
| learning to play, the playing is mere sense
| less drumming; 1T is only when the knowl-
edge gets out of the brain into the finger
tips, so that they can do it of themselves
| without thinking. that the performance be-
| comes music
II was about to say resumed the Botan-
ical One, patiently, that 1 can always
wake myself In that way, but not because
my mind lies awake to hear the clock strike
for l never wind the striking side of my
clocks. and there isn't any clock striking
Moreover, 1 always wrap my watch in a
| towel. and shut 1t into a drawer or a trunk
so that 1 can't hear it tick. But 1 can wake
myself exactly on time at 3, or AGO. or g. or
any hour L choose
Suppose the watch is wrong" inquired
the Critical One. do you wake when it says
8, or when it is really 3?''
I'm not sure, but think 1 wake UP by
standard time-the generally accepted time
| of the town where l am"
Il asked because I've sometimes noticed
| that ones mind seems to have a vague per-
ception of material things in its neighbor-
hood which does not come through the
senses. For instance, I'm sewing, making or
4 II,
1 find L need a bit of lining or binding or
trimming, can't think of thing have that
will do, and conclude / must lay 1t aside
until buy the required finishing. But if my
mind says to me, There is something up
| stairs that is what you want and | go to
piece-bag or trunk wherever the instinct
| i've feeling leads me, why there is the very
| thing / need
! i know a curious instance of that per-
ception in sleep of something outside the
| mind" said the Young Mother. Il had q
| friend who had lover-call him H. Being
somewhat below ner in social station, he
| chose to assume the posture of a distant
worshiper. One night, in the public library.
her sister found a typewritten stanza laid
! IN magazine, beside quatrain of Mark
hams. Perceiving, by various crcum-
stances. that il was written by H. and
meant for her sister, she carried it home
Finding her sister asleep. she laid it on the
dressing table till morning. When the girl
woke in the morning she said, i had such a
| singular and vivid dream about H. last