During the summer of the past year a medical friend of mine sent me an
invitation to dine with him and two of his fellow-craftsmen at the
Welcome Club at the Earl's Court Exhibition. One of our party was a
certain Dr. Laurier, a young man of considerable ability, whose special
attention had been directed to mental diseases. He was, indeed, a noted
authority on this subject, and had just completed an appointment at one
of the large London asylums. During dinner he entertained us with a few
of his late experiences--
"I assure you, Mr. Bell," he said, "there is absolutely no limit to the
vagaries of the human mind. At the present moment a most grotesque and
painful form of mental disease has come under my notice. The patient is
not a pauper, but a gentleman of good standing and means. He is
unmarried, and owns a lovely place in the country. He spent the early
years of his life in India, and when there the craze began which now
assumes the magnitude of a monomania."
"Pray let me hear about him, if your professional etiquette allows you
to talk on the subject," I answered.
"I will certainly tell you what I can," he replied. "I have known the
man for years, having met him in town on several occasions. Last week
his nephew came to see me, and spoke seriously with regard to his
uncle's state of mind. His great craze for years has been spiritualism,
theosophy, and mahatmas, with all their attendant hocus-pocus. He firmly
believes in his power to call up spirits from the vasty deep, and holds
many extraordinary seances."
"But surely such a craze is not sufficient to prove insanity!" I said.
"Hundreds of people believe in such manifestations at the present day."
"I know that well, and perfectly harmless such crazes are so long as the
victims confine their beliefs to spirit-rapping, table-turning, and
humbug of that sort; but when their convictions lead them to commit
actions which compromise serious interests, and when, as in this case,
there is a possibility of life itself being in danger, it is time they
should be looked after."
"What is the particular nature of your friend's delusion?" I asked.
"This. He is practically a Brahmin, having been deeply imbued with the
peculiar doctrines of Brahminism when in India. Amongst his friends in
the East was a Brahmin of high degree in whose house were three idols,
representing the Hindu Trinity--Vishnu, Brahma, and Siva. By some means
which have never been explained to me, my friend managed to get
possession of Siva, and brought the idol home. He placed it in a gallery
which he has in his house, believing from the first that it possessed
mystical properties which it was his duty to fathom. The nephew now
tells me that he has brought his craze to such a pass that he firmly
believes that Siva speaks to him in Hindustanee. The unhappy man kneels
nightly at the altar in front of the idol, receiving, as he imagines,
directions from him. The consequence is that he does all sorts of mad
and extraordinary things, spending his large fortune lavishly in the
decoration of this hideous monster, buying pearls, rubies, and even
diamonds for the purpose, and really being, as he imagines, guided by it
in the disposition of his life and property. He has a young niece
residing with him, to whom he has always been very much attached; but of
late he has been cruel to her, banishing her from his presence, refusing
her his sympathy, and has even gone to the length of threatening to take
her life, saying quite openly that Siva informs him night after night of
her treachery towards him. Now the nephew is engaged to this girl, and
is naturally anxious about her; but, say what he will, nothing will
induce her to turn against her uncle, to whom she is deeply attached.
She denies that he threatens her life, although the nephew declares that
he did so in his own presence. Under such circumstances, her friends
are, naturally, most anxious about her, and feel it their duty to get a
medical opinion with regard to the uncle. I am going down to his place
to-morrow, and shall there meet his regular medical attendant in
consultation."
"And then, I suppose, certify as to his insanity?" I answered.
"Doubtless; that is, if we come to the conclusion that the man is really
insane."
"What an awful responsibility is reposed in you doctors!" I said. "Think
what it means to condemn a man to a lunatic asylum. In the hands of the
unscrupulous such a power is terrible."
Dr. Laurier knitted his brows, and looked keenly at me.
"What do you mean?" he said in a curious tone. "Of course mistakes are
made now and then, but not, I believe, often. To act in good faith and
exercise reasonable care are the two requisites of the law."
"Of course," I replied, "there are great difficulties on both sides of
this momentous question; but if I belonged to the profession, I can
frankly say that nothing would induce me to sign a certificate of
lunacy."
A few moments afterwards we all rose and strolled about the grounds. As
we were parting at the exit gates I called Dr. Laurier aside.
"The love of mystery is to me a ruling passion," I said. "Will you
excuse the great liberty I take when I ask you to let me know the result
of your visit of to-morrow? I am immensely interested in your
spiritualist patient."
As I spoke I scribbled my address on a card and handed it to him, half
expecting that he would resent my intrusiveness. A smile flitted across
his clever face, and he stood looking at me for a moment under the
glare of the great arc lights.
"I will certainly give you the result of my visit, as you are so much
interested," he replied. "Good-night."
We got into our respective hansoms, and drove off in different
directions.
I had much to do, and soon forgot both Dr. Laurier and his patient;
therefore, on the following Monday, when he was ushered into my
presence, my surprise was great.
"I have come to fulfil my promise," he began. "I am here not only to
satisfy your curiosity about my patient, but also to ask your advice.
The fact is the matter has, I think, now merged more into your domain
than mine."
"Pray tell me what has happened," I asked.
"That is what I am about to do; but first I must ensure your absolute
confidence and secrecy, for my professional reputation may be seriously
compromised if it is known that I consulted you."