The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-12-01

philosophy and the blood.

the last and greatest Of the Victorian philos-
ophers. His repute was enormous. Cliff
Lodge, his house on the ~seashore, was a
place Of extraordinary and carefully cher
ished quiet and repose. Tyndall had
spoken Of 1t in one OF his lectures. Il ike
said Tyndall. TO think Of the necessary
isolation OF great minds. Ike to think %
that cliff tower above u Southern sea,
from which the fame OF truth has shed,
amid he darkness Of 80 many years, lie
steady radiance. call that the Light.
house,
For some time the story goes on to illus.
trate the quiet that prevailed In the philos.
opher's homo. Life there was perfectly
methodical. The great man walked al
certain hours. He worked, ate, conversed,
slept with clocklike regularity. Some.
body came In a fly one afternoon. There
was trepidation. 20 Dickonl Let's be brave
said the philosophers adorable young
wife. But how to be brave2 The vissor
might DO some vagrant American biologist
who had corresponded with him for years.
some German professor armed with an
effective letter Of introduction. Where
would the precious afternoon be thenp
Il turned out to be a journalist with a CAM
ara. They could nave sent hin away
had Il not been for their tender hearts.
In pure loving kindness they allowed him
to stay and take pictures OF course.
there wore consequences. For the broken
rule a penalty was exacted: by the mys-
terious but inexorable laws Of life kindness
must be paid for in pain. Work was i'm
possible; the precious afternoon was squau-
dered: all the quiet household knew that
the master had one Of his headaches
And the adorable young wife-what
effect should we think II likely this high
systematic atmosphere would have upon
herr Thereupon turns the idea OF the story.
Sybl adored her husband, who was ~.
She read TO him - he lay with aching
head after the pictorial journalist had gone
She read by the illumination of two candles
which Mr.. Stone had lighted. Rather than
candles they were candle ends. o. OF
them was q mere stump. Mr.. Stone had
deity extricated the stump from the candle
stick socket in which il had been buried,
had put a penny piece across the socket
and had set the stump on the coin. Sybil
had been reading for a quarter of an hour
when the fame from the stump began to
leap and flicker. She was about to blow
it out, but her husband stopped her. ID
would seem cruel-so near the end. Il
would last quite a long time yet-if they
were careful She read on. 1t lasted
nearly an hour. He had been symbolizing
his life-alI of life that was left to him;
the little guarded fame that fights the
darkness" She kissed his forehead and
said tenderly, -Dickonl" and he patted her
hand and said, MY clever Sybil."
We have been at pains to say that it was
Mr.. Stone who lighted the candles. He was
a member of this quiet, carefully orde red
household. He assisted the philosopher in
his work. He reverenced that man of genius.
When he first saw Mr.. B~urgoyne's work.
room he said to Mrs. Burgoyne: so this
is where the Spirit sits brood;ng over Chaos.
1 have seen this place in Dreams One Of
Lord Frodsham's admirable daughters said
on seeing the philosophers assistant: Mr..
Stone has what I call a haunting face. He
looks so good-but is he really2 l believe
IL one sat out a dance with Mr.. Stone he'd
want to kiss one
Mr.. Stone was about Mrs. Burgoyne's
age. He was good, but he once said to Mrs.
Burgoyne when they were out walkingi
Sometimes i know what the old monks
felt. You can't UNDERSTANDING woman
can. You women have learned your lesson.
You con crush out the longings, freeze the
instinct OF the blood with streams OF cold
thought. The nuns never suffered as the
monks did. In mems lives the flesh dies
hard. I tell you there are days when | feel
I shall go Enthusiastically mad-when
I think Of it-not OF noble hopes that are
gone, but Of the base things I am called on
to the pleasures of the senses,
the things the intellect spurns. When I
see some bounder walking with his girl
along the clif-when I see them walking
like avage IL feel a savage myself
and / could leap at him, TAX him by the
throat, strange him, throw him over the
cliff and laugh-and then, then-in thought
Il am alone with his s~queaking, whimper-
ing mate-with his helpless, shrinking
squaw--with his feathSred and iounoed
young lady, This speech seemed to bear
out what Lord Frodsham's daughter had
said about sitting out a dance with Mr..
Stone.
There was Erie, the philosophers grand
niece. She was 10 when the philosopher
formed the opinion that she INC Mr.. Stone
wanted to marry each other. Mr.. Burgoyne
was not mistaken regarding the inclination
Of Etc. She was a good girl, unashamei
OF the generous enthusiasms OF her age.
ho phAAOoOphCi AN ObhiCI WOAO nv -
perimenting in the cause OF science with a
mouse. The idea was to give the mouse
s~trychnine for the purpose of producing
the phenomenon OF unilateral paralysis
unattended by any effect in the higher
centres. Care was to be taken, and tho
mouse was to be no more than slightly
and temporarily distressed or incommoded.
The strychnine was administered and the
mouse was set upon the floor. 1t ran a
couple Of feet, carrying its strychnine well,
then sank back upon its launches. The
experimenter touched it lightly with a
feather, whereupon it gave a display OF
tetanic commissions. At this inauspicious
moment in came Esle. She observed with
horror. She flung herself at length upon
the floor by the side Of the mouse. The
test mouse had another paroxysm. This
time it gave a finer display Of tetanic con-
fractions, rigidity, and 30 forth; and while
the fit lasted, ESie writhed upon the tioori
gasping, wailing in an agony OF sympathy
and horror, convulsively clutching at her
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