Felix Sayres, aged 69 years, who has been an inmate of the
Eastwood Asylum for the Insane for the past thirty-five years,
was found dead in his cell yesterday morning. At one time
he was a well-known scientist of this city, but at the age
of thirty-four became hopelessly insane, and has since been
confined in the asylum, of which he was, at the time of his
death, the oldest inmate.
Felix Sayres was my college chum, and in later years my closest friend,
and now that he is dead I am at liberty to reveal the remarkable story
concerning him, a part of which not even he has ever known, though a
principal actor in the awful scene which has been indelibly stamped on
my memory, haunting my waking hours and recurring to me in oft-repeated
dreams.
My friend was a man of genius and ability, and had it not been for the
terrible misfortune which came upon him, he would have become famous in
the scientific world. Nearly all of his time, day and night, was given
over to scientific research, in finding and working upon new hypotheses
and bringing to light discoveries in that strange world into which he had
evidently been born.
I was at that time his most intimate friend, and to me a great many of
his hopes and secrets were confided. Many nights have I passed in his
laboratory, listening to his explanation of some new theory, or aiding
him in his experiments.
It was always a source of great pleasure to me thus to pass a portion of
my time, although my mind was not of the same scientific trend as that of
my friend. His theories were always so lucidly elaborated and so strong
fundamentally that the most abstract of them seemed, even in the embryo,
capable of actual demonstration, and so great was my confidence in him
that I always stood ready to assist in any experiment or test.
At one point, however, I drew the line. Sayres, while none the less
engaged with material subjects, was constantly dabbling in various
psychical experiments with which I refused absolutely to have anything
to do. The occult, I argued, should remain occult. Had it been intended
that we should see beyond the things of this world the power would have
been given us ages ago, I maintained, and the less one dealt with such
unsolvable problems as vexed my friend the happier would be his life.
Having no desire for knowledge of the supernatural, I studiously avoided
all dealing with it, and it was tacitly understood, between Sayres and
myself, that beyond the line of ordinary conversation the subject was
forbidden. I knew, however, that for him the thing had great fascination
and that my opinion did nothing to banish it from his mind.
At the time of which I write I had not seen Sayres for several weeks, as
was often the case when he was deepest in his books and experiments. I
had called at his laboratory, but his servant had said that no one was
to be admitted, and I knew that it was useless to attempt to see him.
At length I received a letter from him, saying that he had something of
interest to disclose and urging me to “come tonight!”
When I arrived at my friend’s laboratory I found him in a high state of
nervous excitement, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. He greeted
me effusively, and with his usual directness, plunged at once into the
matter at hand, which was evidently uppermost in his mind. Seating
himself at the opposite side of the table and directly facing me, he
began:
“Thornton, I want you to prepare yourself to hear of something that is
to be entirely different from anything I have heretofore shown you.
It is something that to mankind has always been vague, uncertain,
unfathomable—something, in fact, that has existed only in imagination and
in theory, but never in demonstration. I will show it to you tonight, and
to the world tomorrow, in such a manner as entirely to revolutionize life
and living, death and dying.
“As you very well know, my religious beliefs have always been skeptical;
but my skepticism has arisen rather from insufficiency of faith with
which to overcome the lack of direct evidence which mortals have
concerning spiritual things than from stubborn unbelief. That there is a
Supreme Being I have never doubted. His many works are too manifest, and
it is impossible to conceive of such a creation as this earth and all its
delicate mechanisms, and of the rest of the universe with all its unknown
wonders, without some vast Supernatural oversight.
“Although I have never discussed the subject to any great extent, I
have nursed it as a pet and secret hobby, and have spent many hours in
work along certain lines in connection with it. In the beginning, I put
finiteness aside from the question. The human mind, or soul, with its
unlimited powers, has always been regarded by me as the most wonderful
of all creations. I have been able to find no entirely satisfactory
definition of this ‘mind’ from a purely physical standpoint, and
therefore sought to obtain one. Nobody will say that the soul is
material; it belongs to the body and develops with it, but is no part of
it.
“Life is but a taper, which a slight breath may easily puff out, but
this indeterminable thing called ‘mind,’ I reasoned, must be governed by
different laws. Is it possible that the Creator ruled that the greatest
of all His works should be blotted out with the cessation of life in that
sordid mass of clay, the body? Or did He arrange to reclaim it, together
with its spiritual complement, to a world of its own, as men have for
ages believed?
“Skeptic as I have been, I have always been willing to concede that the
idea of a spiritual existence, while vague, seems no more wonderful than
thousands of other things which we see about us daily, and for the reason
that they are manifest, give them no thought whatever.
“As a basis for the theory which I set myself to formulate, I took what
I shall term ‘mind atoms.’ As I have before said, we cannot regard the
mind force as a material thing; but, as a contradictory fact, we know
that it is _something_, and further than that generality we are ignorant.
Then, as the mind force governs alike every portion of the body, this
indeterminable something of which it is composed, I reasoned, must be in
one portion as in another.
“I then placed these mind atoms as being diffused in the space occupied
by the body and lying even between the atoms of its material composition.
If, at death, this mind is merely withdrawn from the body—all of which I
worked upon as already determined—would it not occupy in the spirit world
the same space and retain the same shape of the human form from which it
had fled?
“Then the idea suggested itself that if some powerful and undiscovered
action could be produced (by the use of drugs, probably), causing an
instantaneous and simultaneous separation of every mind atom from the
physical atoms, the effect would be a spiritual death, while at the same
time physical vitality would not be in the least impaired. I then went
one step further and added the supposition that as the effects of the
action wore away it would be possible for the soul to re-enter the body,
even as it had been driven out, and creation would again be complete.
“I have worked untiringly, and wrought experiment after experiment, until
at last I have succeeded in producing a drug that will accomplish all
that I have explained to you. I have used it on various animals and have
seen them recover from the effects of it, and thus have ascertained that
it is harmless. I ventured to try it on myself, and I know that _I have
certainly solved the mystery of the future_, although during the brief
period in which my soul was in the spirit world I could make but few
observations, and those of minor importance.
“I saw no other spiritual beings, but remained, for the most, close by
my soulless body, waiting for the proper moment to return to my physical
life, if it were indeed to be possible; but I am confident that what I
have accomplished renders the unrevealed capable of being revealed and
robs the hereafter of all its secrets.”
* * * * *
He paused, and for a moment, so bewildered was I by the strangeness of it
all, that I sat speechless, my brain in a whirl.
Thinking to overcome my amazement, I reached for the wine decanter, which
was on the table before me, and into the glass nearest me I poured some
of the strong wine which Sayres always kept at hand. After draining it, I
looked up to see a gleam of satisfaction flit across his countenance.
“Thornton,” said he, “in that glass of wine there was enough of the drug
to render you temporarily dead for two hours, as I can best calculate.
In five minutes you will be unconscious. I want you to undergo the same
experience which I have safely passed through, so that we may later
exchange ideas on the subject.”
In spite of his assurance, a deadly fear took possession of me, and I
swore and expostulated at his unfair treatment. With undisturbed calm, he
again spoke to me, endeavoring to dispel my fears, and assuring me that
he would be conversing with me again at the end of the two hours.
Even as he was speaking his words became indistinct, and an overpowering
dizziness seized me. Then came a moment of which I have no recollection,
after which, by the fact that I stood, or _seemed_ to stand, within a few
feet of the chair in which I had been seated, _gazing at myself_, even
now in the same position, I knew that my body was without a soul, even as
Sayres had said, and that I was the soul standing there!
I looked about me, and in place of the invisible atmosphere which I was
accustomed to, the room seemed filled with a constantly moving, pulsating
vapor, dense, gray and foglike, but through which I could discern objects
with as much ease as ordinarily.
I saw my friend lift my body from the chair, lay it on a bench and place
a cushion under the head. Then he began pacing to and fro, up and down,
back and forth, and I found that I could move about at will and follow
him.
I attempted to speak to him, but now there was no sound; I reached forth
my hand to grasp a chair, but it offered no resistance, and I realized
that I indeed occupied no space, but was nevertheless in space and a
part of space. I saw my friend’s lips move as though he were speaking. I
heard no sound, but was able to understand his words, although he did not
address me.
The glare of the lamps gave me a sensation which, had I been in my
physical form, I should have termed pain, and I much preferred to keep in
a dark corner. By a direct mental communication, of which I was not at
the time aware, I was able to signify this fact to Sayres, and he at once
turned out all the lights, leaving the laboratory lighted only by a low
fire in the grate at the end of the room. I was then astonished to find
that the absence of light had no effect upon my visual powers, and that I
could see in the dark as well as before.
From this I drew the conclusion that in reality I possessed no visuality,
as it seemed. My senses I had left behind with my physical self, and
here they were replaced by a strange comprehension of everything about
me. I still had the abilities which the senses convey, but their actual
presence was lacking.
I could flit through the air with as much ease as I could walk on the
floor, and could even have sunk through that same floor had I desired,
for the most solid substance offered no resistance to my form. I was able
to pass directly through anything.
The success of the experiment, up to this point, served to restore my
confidence in Sayres and I entertained no doubt but that at the end of
the stated time I could return to my body again. I therefore determined
to lose no time in making all the observations possible.
Sayres was still pacing the room, and it was evident from his actions
that in a large degree fear was the cause of his restlessness. He knew
that in all probability I was constantly near him, and he would have
avoided coming in contact with me had he been able to do so. Felix Sayres
possessed courage beyond that of many men, but few mortals can be brought
face to face with the supernatural without experiencing fear.
All of us have at various times—sometimes by day, but more often at
night—undergone the feeling of the proximity of some ghostly presence,
giving rise to a sensation of coldness and choking horror. This was
clearly demonstrated to me now, for whenever myself and Sayres came
within a few feet of each other I could easily see that he felt my
presence. He made no attempt to communicate with me and paid no heed to
the various things I did to attract his attention.
After a little, he seemed to recover himself and calmly walked across
the room to where my soulless body lay, and stood looking down at it.
By the gleam in his eyes, and by my wonderful supernatural power of
comprehension, I knew in an instant that overwork and nervous strain had
at last done their work, that the cord of reason had snapped and that my
friend was a madman!
His lips moved and I heard him, or rather _felt_ him, address my body:
“At last I have you in my power! I have waited long for this moment, and
at last my waiting is to be rewarded. I have driven the soul from the
body, and the body lives; but now I will take away life itself, and you
will be dead!”
The word seemed to please him, and he murmured slowly:
“Dead, _dead_!”
* * * * *