the subsequent twenty years or so may be summarized.
alone in the world, of a loving, passionate nature, he deliberately set all thought of marriage on one side as an impossibility, and directed his entire energy into the acquirement of knowledge; reading, studying, experimenting far outside the circle of the ordinary medical man. the attitude of detachment he had adopted became a habit. he believed it was now his nature.
the more he learned of human frailty and human faculties, the greater became the charity he felt towards his fellow-kind. in his own being, it seemed, lay something big, sweet, simple, a generosity that longed to share with others, a tolerance more ready to acquit than to condemn, above all, a great gift of understanding sympathy that, doubtless, was the explanation of his singular insight. rarely he found it in him to blame; forgiveness, based upon the increasing extent of his experience, seemed his natural view of human mistakes and human infirmities. his one desire, his one hope, was to serve the race.
yet he himself remained aloof. he watched the play but took no part in it. this forgiveness, too, began at home. his grievance had not soured or dejected him, his father’s error presenting itself as a problem to be pondered over, rather than a sin to blame. some day, he promised himself, he would go and see with his own eyes the khaketian tribe whence his blood was partially derived, whence his unenglish yearnings for a wilder scale of personal freedom amid an unstained, majestic nature were first stolen. the inherited picture of a caucasian vale of loveliness and liberty lay, indeed, very deep in his nature, emerging always like a symbol when he was profoundly moved. at any crisis in his life it rose beckoning, seductive, haunting beyond words... curious, ill-defined emotions with it, that drove him towards another standard, another state, to something, at any rate, he could neither name nor visualize, yet that seemed to dwarf the only life he knew. about it was a touch of strange unearthly radiance that dimmed existence as he knew it. the shine went out of it. there was involved in this symbolic “valley” something wholly new both in colour, sound and outline, yet that remained obstinately outside definition.
first, however, he must work, develop himself, and broaden, deepen, extend in every possible way the knowledge of his kind that seemed his only love.
he began in a very practical way, setting up his plate in a mean quarter of the great metropolis, healing, helping, learning with his heart as well as with his brain, observing life at closest quarters from its beginning to its close, his sympathies becoming enriched the more he saw, and his mind groping its way towards clearer insight the more he read, thought, studied. his wealth made him independent; his tastes were simple; his wants few. he observed the great play from the pit and gallery, from the wings, from behind the scenes as well.
moving then, into the stalls, into a wealthier neighbour-hood, that is, he repeated the experience among another class, finding, however, little difference except in the greater artificiality of his types, the larger proportion of mental and nervous ailments, of hysteria, delusion, imaginary troubles, and the like. the infirmities due to idleness, enflamed vanity and luxury offered a new field, though to him a less attractive one. the farther from simplicity, from the raw facts of living, the more complicated, yet the more trivial, the resulting disabilities. these, however, were quite as real as those, and harder, indeed, to cure. idle imagination, fostered by opportunity and means, yet forced by conventionality to wear infinite disguises, brought a strange, if far from a noble, crop of disorders into his ken. yet he accepted them for serious treatment, whatever his private opinion may have been, while his patience, tact and sympathy, backed by his insight and great knowledge, brought him quick success. he was soon in a fair way to become a fashionable doctor.
but the field, he found, was restricted somewhat. his quest was knowledge, not fame or money. he chose his cases where he could, though actually refusing nothing. he specialized more and more with afflictions of a mental kind. he was immensely successful in restoring proportion out of disorder. he revealed people to themselves. he taught them to recover lost hope and confidence. he used little medicine, but stimulated the will towards a revival of fading vitality. auto-suggestion, rather than suggestion or hypnotism, was his method. he healed. he began to be talked about.
then, suddenly, his house was sold, his plate was taken down, he vanished.
human beings object to sudden changes whose secret they have not been told and cannot easily guess; his abrupt disappearance caused talk and rumours, led, of course, by those, chiefly disappointed women, who had most reason to be grateful for past services. but, if the words charlatan and quack were whispered, he did not hear them; he had taken the post of assistant in a lunatic asylum in a northern town, because the work promised him increase of knowledge and experience in his own particular field. the talk he left behind him mattered as little as the small pay attached to the humble duties he had accepted.
london forgot him, but he did not forget what london had taught him.
a new field opened, and in less than two years, opportunity, combined with his undoubted qualifications, saw him head of an establishment where he could observe at first hand the facts and phenomena that interested him most. humane treatment, backed by profound insight into the derangements of the poor human creatures under his charge, brought the place into a fame it had never known before. he spent five years there in profound study and experiment; he achieved new results and published them. his experimental psychology caused a sensation. his name was known. he was an authority.
at this time he was well past thirty, a tall, dark, distinguished-looking man, of appearance grave and even sombre; imposing, too, with his quiet, piercing eyes, but sombre only until the smile lit up his somewhat rugged face. it was a face that nobody could lie to, but to that smile the suffering heart might tell its inmost secrets with confidence, hope, trust, and without reserve.
there followed several years abroad, in paris, rome, st. petersburg, moscow; vienna and zurich he also visited to test there certain lines of research and to meet personally their originators.
this period was partly a holiday, partly an opportunity to know at first hand the leaders in mental therapeutics, psychology and the rest, and also that he might find time to digest and arrange his own accumulation of knowledge with a view, later, to undertaking the life-work to which his previous experience was but preliminary. fame had come to him unsought; his published works alone ensured his going down to posterity as a careful but daring and original judge of the human species and its possibilities. it was the supernormal rather than the merely abnormal powers that attracted him. in the subconscious, as, equally, in the superconscious, his deep experience taught him, lay amazing powers of both moral and physical healing, powers as yet but little understood, powers as limitless as they seemed incredible, as mysterious in their operation as they were simple in their accessibility. and auto-suggestion was the means of using them. the great men whom he visited welcomed him with open arms, added to his data, widened yet further his mental outlook. sought by high and low in many countries and in strangest cases, his experience grew and multiplied, his assortment of unusual knowledge was far-reaching; till he stood finally in wonder and amazement before the human being and its unrealized powers, and his optimism concerning the future progress of the race became more justified with every added fact.
yet, perhaps, his greatest achievement was the study of himself; it was probably to this deep, intimate and honest research into his own being that his success in helping others was primarily due. for in himself, though mastered and coordinated by his steady will, rendered harmless by his saving sense of humour and (as he believed) by the absence of any harboured grievance against others in his very own being lay all those potential elements of disorder, those loose unravelled threads of alien impulse and suppressed desire, which can make for dangerous disintegration, and thus produce the disturbing results classed generally under alienation and neurosis.
the incongruous elements in him were the gift of nature; γνωθι σεαυτον was the saving attitude he brought to that gift, redeeming it. this phrase, borrowed, he remembered with a smile, for the portal of the ancient mysteries, remained his watchword. he was able to thank the fierce illicit love that furnished his body and his mental make-up for a richer field of first-hand study than years of practice among others could have supplied. he belonged by temperament to the unstable. but he was aware of it. he realized the two beings in him: the reasoning, scientific man, and the speculative dreamer, visionary, poet.. the latter wondered, dreamed among a totally different set of values far below and out of sight. this deeper portion of himself was forever beating up for recognition, clamouring to be used, yet with the strange shyness that reminded him of a loving woman who cannot be certain her passion is returned. it hinted, threatened, wept and even sulked. it rose like a flame, bringing its own light and wind, blessed his whole being with some divine assurance, and then, because not instantly accepted, it retired, leaving him empty, his mind coloured with unearthly yearnings, with poignant regrets, yet perfumed as though the fairness of spring herself had lit upon his heart and kissed it into blossom on her passage north. it presented its amazing pictures, and withdrew. elusive, as the half memory of some radiant dream, whose wonder and sweetness have been intense to the point of almost pain, it hovered, floating just out of reach. it lay waiting for that sincere belief which would convince that its passion was returned. and a fleeting picture of a wild caucasian valley, steeped in sunshine and flowers, was always the first sign of its awakening.
though not afraid of reason, it seemed somehow independent of the latter’s processes. it was his reason, however, he well knew that dimmed the light in its grand, terrible eyes, causing it to withdraw the instant he began to question. precise, formal thinking shut the engines off and damped the furnaces. his love, his passion, none the less, were there, hiding with belief, until some bright messenger, bringing glad tidings, should reveal the method of harmonious union between reason and vision, between man’s trivial normal faculties and his astounding super-normal possibilities.
“this element of feeling in our outlook on nature is a satisfaction in itself, but our plea for allowing it to operate in our interpretation of nature is that we get closer to some things through feeling than we do through science. the tendency of feeling is always to see things whole. we cannot, for our life’s sake, and for the sake of our philosophical reconstruction, afford to lose in scientific analysis what the poets and artists and the lovers of nature all see. it is intuitively felt, rather than intellectually perceived, the vision of things as totalities, root and all, all in all; neither fancifully, nor mystically, but sympathetically in their wholeness”.
to these words of professor t. arthur thomson’s, he heartily subscribed, applying their principle to his own particular field.
