Dr. Heidenhoff's Process by Edward Bellamy


Main
- books.jibble.org



My Books
- IRC Hacks

Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare

External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd

books.jibble.org

Previous Page | Next Page

Page 32

"Now," said the doctor to her, "fix your attention on the class of
memories which you wish destroyed; the electric current more readily
follows the fibres which are being excited by the present passage of
nervous force. Touch my arm when you find your thoughts somewhat
concentrated."

In a few moments she pressed the doctor's arm, and instantly the
murmurous, bubbling hum of the battery began. She, clasped Henry's hand a
little firmer, but made no other sign. The noise stopped. The doctor was
removing the clamps. She opened her eyes and closed them again drowsily.

"Oh, I'm so sleepy."

"You shall lie down and take a nap," said the doctor.

There was a little retiring-room connected with the office where there
was a sofa. No sooner had she laid her head on the pillow than she fell
asleep. The doctor and Henry remained in the operating office, the door
into the retiring-room being just ajar, so that they could hear her when
she awoke.




CHAPTER XI.


"How long will she sleep, doctor?" asked Henry, after satisfying himself
by looking through the crack of the door that she was actually asleep.

"Patients do not usually wake under an hour or two," replied the doctor.
"She was very drowsy, and that is a good sign. I think we may have the
best hopes of the result of the operation."

Henry walked restlessly to and fro. After Dr. Heidenhoff had regarded him
a few moments, he said--

"You are nervous, sir. There is quite a time to wait, and it is better to
remain as calm as possible, for, in the event of an unsatisfactory
result, your friend will need soothing, and you will scarcely be equal to
that if you are yourself excited. I have some very fair cigars here. Do
me the honour to try one. I prescribe it medicinally. Your nerves need
quieting;" and he extended his cigar-case to the young man.

As Henry with a nod of acknowledgment took a cigar and lit it, and
resumed his striding to and fro, the doctor, who had seated himself
comfortably, began to talk, apparently with the kindly intent of
diverting the other's mind.

"There are a number of applications of the process I hope to make, which
will be rather amusing experiments. Take, for instance, the case of a
person who has committed a murder, come to me, and forgotten all about
it. Suppose he is subsequently arrested, and the fact ascertained that
while he undoubtedly committed the crime, he cannot possibly recall his
guilt, and so far as his conscience is concerned, is as innocent as a
new-born babe, what then? What do you think the authorities would do?"

"I think," said Henry, "that they would be very much puzzled what to do."

"Exactly," said the doctor; "I think so too. Such a case would bring out
clearly the utter confusion and contradiction in which the current
theories of ethics and moral responsibility are involved. It is time the
world was waked up on that subject. I should hugely enjoy precipitating
such a problem on the community. I'm hoping every day a murderer will
come in and require my services.

"There is another sort of case which I should also like to have," he
continued; shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth, and
uncrossing and recrossing his knees. "Suppose a man has dons another a
great wrong, and, being troubled by remorse, comes to me and has the
sponge of oblivion passed over that item in his memory. Suppose the man
he has wronged, pursuing him with a heart full of vengeance, gets him at
last in his power, but at the same time finds out that he has forgotten,
and can't be made to remember, the act he desires to punish him for."

"It would be very vexatious," said Henry..

"Wouldn't it, though? I can imagine the pursuer, the avenger, if a really
virulent fellow, actually weeping tears of despite as he stands before
his victim and marks the utter unconsciousness of any offence with which
his eyes meet his own. Such a look would blunt the very stiletto of a
Corsican. What sweetness would there be in vengeance if the avenger, as
he plunged the dagger in his victim's bosom, might not hiss in his ear,
'Remember!' As well find satisfaction in torturing an idiot or mutilating
a corpse. I am not talking now of brutish fellows, who would kick a stock
or stone which they stumbled over, but of men intelligent enough to
understand what vengeance is."

Previous Page | Next Page


Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 14th Jan 2026, 12:21