Doctor Austin's Guests

Part II

... 202 228 VIII. THE IMPRISONED DEMON. —

PART I. IX.

THE IMPRISONED DEMON. —

PART II.

. . I.— A SCIENTIFIC EVENING. ' I "HE next of Dr. Austin's guests I shall have the honour of introducing to the reader is Mr. Ponsonby. He was tall, thin, and, at the time he joined our circle, had fallen somewhat into the sere and yellow leaf. He was still, however, an active man, and, apart from his infirmity, a most agreeable companion. He had received an excel lent education, having graduated at Cambridge, where he greatly distinguished himself. When he quitted the university, trusting to the honourable testimonials he had received, he endeavoured to obtain a government appointment, but as he had neither patrons nor friends, he was of course un- VOL. II. B successful. He then employed himself in preparing young gentlemen for their examinations ; and by this means he continued to maintain him self till he was considerably past forty, though with no little difficulty, his emoluments being small, and he being deficient in economy.

Indeed, up till this period he sometimes endured considerable privations ; but at length, by the death of a distant relative, he inherited a handsome fortune. So unexpected was his good luck, that it had a most prejudicial effect upon his mind, throwing him into a state of nervous irritability from which he never afterwards completely recovered. On the receipt of his fortune he gave up teach ing, and attempted to lead a quiet, sedentary life, amusing himself by plunging deeply into his favourite study of mathematics ; but the derange ment of his nervous system hardly allowed him the repose necessary for an occupation of the kind. In worldly matters he was as abstracted as one of the philosophers of Laputa, yet the irritability of his system was so great that it would allow him no rest, and not only did his mind become disordered, but he fell off so fearfully in bodily health that it was deemed necessary to put him under restraint, lest his malady should become fatal.

Fortunately he was reasonable enough to listen to the advice of his friends, and allow himself to be placed under medical care. Dr. Austin was applied to accordingly to receive him. It was arranged that he should be allowed greater liberty than the rest of the patients, and no im pediment was put in the way as to spending his money. He had apartments placed at his disposal on the second floor. These consisted of three rooms — a bed-room, a sitting-room, and a study, or, as he called it, laboratory. Mr. Ponsonby was most amiable and gentlemanly in his manners, and soon became a favourite with us all. For some time, however, after his arrival we saw but little of him ; indeed, so little, that had it not been for his great affability when we did meet, it would have given us the impression that he wished to avoid us.

He invariably break fasted in his own room, and we rarely saw him till dinner-time. He would then converse with the guests in so friendly a manner as completely to dispel the idea, either that he was retired in his habits or too proud to mix with us. After dinner he generally remained with us for an hour or two. He then left, and we saw no more of him till he presented himself at the next day's dinner table. His manners did not betray the slightest symptom of hallucination ; even the nervous irritability he was affected with, when we first made his acquaintance, soon vanished under the judicious care of the doctor, and his bodily health rapidly improved. Still there was a certain amount of mystery about him which I was most anxious to unravel ; and this was increased by the arrival at the house of numerous packing cases, which were immediately taken to his room.

What they contained none of us could make out. He never spoke of them, and if I happened to inquire of the servants concerning their contents, I got the invariable answer that they did not know, as Mr. Ponsonby always opened them himself in his laboratory when no one else was present, and that he always kept the door locked. I very much suspect that this was hardly the truth, and that as he had plenty of money, he bribed the servants to silence. With such an impression, of course it would have been an act of indiscretion on my part to have at tempted to obtain a clue to the enigma, and I determined to wait till some accidental circumstance should enable me to clear up the matter. Fortunately I was soon gratified. The packing-cases at last ceased to arrive. After this we enjoyed a good deal more of Mr. Ponsonby 's society in the evening, although he continued to seclude himself during the day in his own apartment.

He continued to be most agreeable with all, but he attached himself principally to Mr. Cochrane and myself. He had found out, it appeared, that we both knew something of mechanics and the collateral sciences ; and as his own tastes lay in the same direction, it is not to be wondered at that he associated more with us than the rest. Mr. Cochrane had informed him of his own particular theory of the possible combustion of sea-water, and very probably from the same source he had been roughly and errone ously instructed as to the tremendous secret I held in my own hands. At any rate I had never men tioned it to him, and yet he was evidently aware of it, from remarks which he from time to time let drop in conversation. Certainly I must admit they were never made in a supercilious manner ; and this circumstance pleased me so much that I determined some day to make him my confi dant, at least so far as I could do it without the fear of any ultimate dangerous results.

But one thing surprised me much, and greatly raised my respect for his habitual courtesy. He would listen with the most perfect gravity to the absurd theories propounded by Mr. Cochrane. In fact, so much was Mr. Cochrane encouraged by his good nature, that I positively overheard him one evening proposing to Mr. Ponsonby that he should advance him some money on his patent, assuring him of the certainty of the success of his scheme, and promising him a fabulous amount of interest for any advance he might make. I need hardly say that although Mr. Ponsonby listened to him with his accustomed gravity and politeness, he skilfully avoided entering into any speculation whatever, saying that he was simply a student, utterly unacquainted with business matters, and that he had made a resolution never to embark ill any schemes, however tempting they might appear.

From that resolution he said he would not swerve, even to profit by the tempting offer then made him, increased as it was by his wish to oblige a friend. Whether Mr. Cochrane ever repeated his request I know not, but if he did, he certainly met with no better success than on his first application. As my intimacy with Mr. Ponsonby increased he became gradually more communicative. One fine summer afternoon, when walking with him round the grounds, our conversation turned on the different inmates of the establishment, and the peculiarities of their characters. " I dare say," he said, after we had passed in review most of the notables among us, " you all consider me a very morose, unsociable sort of person, but I assure you I am naturally nothing of the kind." " I, at least," I replied, " have no reason to come to such a conclusion ; but what can possibly have put such an idea into your head ?"

" Simply the little intercourse I have hitherto had with the doctor's guests in general, and the secluded manner in which I keep myself the whole of the day in my own apartment." " I can very easily imagine," I remarked, " that the majority of us offer but little temptation for your friendship. I always respect a man who chooses his associates with caution." " That, I am afraid," he said, " is hardly my own case, for I am naturally very fond of society ; so much so that it has acted, on more than one occasion, most prejudicially on my pecuniary interests. The real truth is, that the seclusion I have hitherto maintained since I came to Dr. Austin's has not in any way been caused by dis like for my companions, although, candidly, you and Mr. Cochrane are the only individuals among them whom I could make my intimate associates.

I do not mind telling you that I have been occupied for some years in working out a most difficult and complicated problem, and one which I believe to be perfectly original. I have natu rally been exceedingly jealous of allowing strangers to become acquainted with it, lest they should profit by the long and laborious studies I have gone through, appropriating my idea, and bringing it forward to the world as their own. I am now so far advanced that I may say it is almost per fect, though one or two points require a little more consideration before I publish it. In you and Mr. Cochrane I know I can confide, and shall have much pleasure in explaining it to you, it being of course understood between us that neither of you will ever claim it as your own. Publish it as much as you please to the world, but admit at the same time that I am the dis coverer."

" May I inquire," I said, *' what is the nature of your discovery?" " I would rather not tell you at present," he said, " because it would appear to you so im practicable that you might smile at it." "You do me an injustice if you consider it possible that I could be guilty of an incivility of the kind." " Oh, I would willingly forgive you if you did. I admit I should be apt to doubt it myself, perhaps, if I had not gone so far into the matter as I have. How I had the courage to entertain the idea at first I know not ; I am frequently surprised at it myself, when I think of it. But at the same time, putting aside all mock modesty, of this I am convinced, that when I explain it at leisure to you, you will come to the same conclusion as myself, that it is one of the most original problems that ever occupied the brain of man, not excepting Euclid himself.

Come to my rooms to-morrow evening with Mr. Cochrane, and I will then explain it to you both. There we shall not be interrupted, and I shall have ample time to go thoroughly into the sub ject." I accepted his invitation with thanks, and pro mised him that I would bring Mr. Cochrane with me, and we then parted. About two hours after dinner next evening Mr. Cochrane and I paid our promised visit. Mr. Ponsonby quitted the table as soon as the meal was over, to make some little necessary arrangements, as he informed us, for the more easily explaining to us his discovery. He received us in a most friendly manner in his sitting-room, and after conversing together for some little time on indifferent subjects, he proposed that we should visit his laboratory, and then return to the sitting room, where he would go into the description and merits of his discovery at length.

He then led us through his bed-room, and opening a door, conducted us into his sanctum sanctorum. I was struck with surprise, on entering, at the appearance of the room, and it was some moments before I fully recovered myself. It was a large, lofty room, with a skylight. It was square built, but he had run wooden battens round it, riveted neatly together, till it formed a perfect circle. Exactly in the centre, on a thin wooden pede stal, stood a chronometer. Around this, also in a circle, was a common wooden table, covered with files, wheels of clocks, small vices, and the ordinary tools of a clock and watchmaker. Around the room, in four circles, were one hun dred common Dutch clocks, twenty-five in each circle. They were equidistant from each other ; indeed, it was evident that they had been so placed with scrupulous care.

Ten of them only were going, the rest being motionless. I noticed that the former all kept exact time with each other, although the time they marked was not the hour of the day. Thinking I ought to say something, I remarked this fact to him. " You are right," he said, " but it makes no difference in my experiment. You will find, if you look at the chronometer, that the clocks are in exact accordance with it." So saying, he moved the table a little aside to allow us to see the chronometer, and after we had satisfied our selves on that point, he again carefully replaced the table in its original position. " You would hardly believe," he continued, " the amount of trouble I have had in making those clocks keep time with the chronometer." " I had no idea," I said, " that you had ever been in any way of business.

I understood you were a classical and mathematical teacher." " That is the truth," he replied. " I knew no more of clockmaking than you do before I began my experiments, but finding it was absolutely necessary for my success to understand it fully, I set myself to work to acquire it, and I assure you, it was a heavy addition to my labours. At present, I understand the mechanism of clocks so well that, should everything else fail, I could enter into that line of business without any diffi culty." "But why," said Mr. Cochrane, "are ten clocks only going while the others remain motionless ?" " Simply because I have not yet had sufficient time to regulate the others. For the perfect proof of my discovery it is absolutely necessary that the whole hundred clocks should be going, and all keeping exact time with the chronometer.

That, you will readily imagine, is a work of no little labour, but I am convinced that in the end I shall succeed. At present, as I have remarked, ten only are at work, because I have not yet had sufficient leisure to put more in order. To-morrow I shall commence with the eleventh, and so on, till the whole are completed. The great difficulty I have to contend with is the time it takes to regulate each clock. Up to the present time it has ave raged not less than a week each, so that you see it will take nearly two years more before the whole are in order. But with patience and perseverance, I trust I shall be able to accomplish it, and then I shall bring my discovery triumphantly before the world. But now you have seen my laboratory we will, if you please, go back to the sitting-room, and I will there explain all to you."

When we entered the sitting-room, Mr. Pon sonby motioned to us to be seated on one side of a table, and then placing himself in an easy chair on the other, and assuming much of the air and manner of private teachers when about to address their pupils, he proceeded as follows : — "The subject to which I intend calling your attention this evening is one that has occupied not only my leisure hours, but I might almost say my whole mind and time, for several years past. Night and day it has been the object of my constant study ; the last thing that has occupied my brain before sleep came over me, and the first that presented itself to me on awaking. Yet, long as I have been employed on it, and ceaseless as have been the labours I have bestowed upon it, when I reflect on the magnitude of the work and the progress I have made, I am fairly as tonished at the extraordinary result of my labours.

Nor is this description at all exaggerated or in flated, as I trust you will acknowledge when I inform you that at last I am able to prove, to a mathematical certainty, the perfect possibility of the concentration of eternity." Mr. Ponsonby remained silent for some moments to allow our surprise to pass off. This was quite necessary, for both Mr. Cochrane and myself were so astonished at the hugeness of his absurd ity that we had some little difficulty in recovering ourselves. Singularly enough, neither had the slightest disposition to smile, for ridiculous as was his proposition, there was an expression of gravity on our countenances which could not have been surpassed had he brought before us a newly dis covered fact of the most important interest. " I feel," continued Mr. Ponsonby, " greatly flat tered at the manner in which you have received my communication.

I candidly admit, that be fore understanding the proof I shall presently offer you of the truth of my statement, I almost feared you might have received it with doubt, if not ridicule, so extraordinary must it appear ; but the serious expression of your countenances shows me not only that I did you an injustice, but that the magnitude of the conception renders the idea of treating it lightly quite impossible. To make you fully understand the force of my arguments, perhaps the better plan for me will be to narrate to you, as briefly as possible, the history of my discovery. "You may perhaps have heard, that up till within a few years, my life has been one of considerable privation and difficulty. After I left college, and found I had no chance of obtaining a government appointment, I saw before me no better means of earning a livelihood than by preparing young gentlemen for their examinations.

The fatigue was great, the occupation monotonous, and the remuneration small. Nevertheless, I struggled on manfully, and I hope contentedly. But good has come out of evil. I little imagined that when going over and over again with my pupils the first book of Euclid, and other elementary branches of mathematics, that at last it would lead to one of the greatest discoveries of modern times. Yes, as the simple application of the fulcrum and lever may be considered as lying at the origin of the vast amount of mechanical science at present practically applied, so have the axioms and aphorisms of Euclid been the origin of my present system for the concentration of eternity. To begin then. What is a point ? It is that which has position, but neither length nor breadth. What is a straight line ? It is the shortest dis tance from one given point to another.

What are parallel lines ? Two lines which, extended to an unlimited distance either way, will never meet. Assume then that a single line, drawn either from a given point or from a minute length, say an inch, can be extended indefinitely— a proposition which has never been disputed,— -must it not also be ad mitted that a line of indefinite length may again be contracted to an inch or almost to a point ? These are mathematical facts I am sure you will not attempt to dispute. Then what is a circle ? A line drawn at equal distance from a given point in its centre. Is there any limit to the extent that a circle may be drawn from a given point ? None, the circumference of the earth is simply an extension of a finger ring, and that again may be ex tended till it would contain the universe. What is time ?

It is a specified duration. What is eternity? An unlimited extension of time. Eternity, I maintain, bears the same relation to time that an VOL. II. C unlimited circle does to a measured one. I strongly suspect that this unmathematical division of time and eternity in the minds of men is the principal reason that the discovery I am now explaining to you was not made before ; fortunate indeed has the error or omission been for me. Now I maintain, that as a straight line may be extended from any given point to an indefinite and unlimited length, and contracted again not only to a measurable length but to the very point it started from ; and as a circle may be extended from its centre till it shall embrace the universe, and again be contracted to its centre : so can a moment or infinitesimal duration of time be extended till it shall be eternity, and eternity be again contracted till it shall be a moment.

Do you understand my argument ? If so, tell me what reasoning you can urge against it." For some moments both Mr. Cochrane and myself were silent, neither knowing what answer to make him. At last, from the mere necessity of saying something, I inquired in what way the number of clocks and the great quantity of ap paratus we had noticed in his laboratory were applicable to the maintenance of his theory of the concentration of eternity. "They are to prove physically," he replied, "what I have already attempted to prove to you by argument alone. The chronometer you observed in the middle of the room is the centre from which I intend to make eternity radiate. As soon as all the clocks, — which, as you per ceived, are equidistant from it and from each other, — are in perfect agreement with it, eternity will not only radiate abroad through them from a common centre to the universe at large, but the rays will again be contracted or concen trated by them to their starting-point, the chro nometer."

" But,"' I remarked, " you seem to forget that the same space of time, whether moment or hour, that your chronometer may register is felt throughout the universe without all your appa ratus." "Granted," he said ; "but what I want to prove is the expansion of that moment ; and I submit, that when all the clocks are in order, my proof will be perfect." " Still," I said, " you have neither enlarged the moment nor can you expand it. More than that, a moment lost can never be regained, and how can you enlarge or centralize that which is irrevo cably lost?" "Pardon me," he replied, "but I cannot help saying that you annoy me with your want of perception. Tell me, can anything be clearer than the arguments I have submitted to you, even without their collateral mechanical proof?" " But you have not answered my question," I said.

"I maintain that as a circle ." " Excuse me," I said, interrupting him, and noticing that he wanted to shirk my question, " let me have an answer before you proceed." " Certainly," he said, evidently getting very confused and angry ; " I will give you an answer if you insist upon it." He now hesitated, apparently at a loss what answer to make, when Mr. Cochrane broke in clumsily with, — "And if you succeed in concentrating eternity, what possible use will you be able to make of it ?" Mr. Ponsonby immediately profited by Mr. Cochrane's blunder. " What possible use can I make of it ! " he said. " What use did Euclid ever make of any of his problems ? yet his name has lived, honoured and respected, while those of thousands of petti fogging mechanicians and inventors have passed into the obscurity they deserved.

Your remark is an admirable proof of the difference between the mind of a philosopher and that of a mere mer cenary projector." " I trust," said Mr. Cochrane, " you do not in tend to apply that offensive term to me." " I shall also be obliged," I said, " by your making an exception in my favour." " In the case of neither one nor the other," said Mr. Ponsonby, now getting into a passion, "will I make any exception. You," he continued, addressing Mr. Cochrane, "have certainly a scintilla of reason in your invention, although you are yet at an immeasurable distance from its com pletion. That water contains the elements of combustion I admit, and the salts which the ocean contains may certainly assist in its decomposition ; but to what end, may I ask, have you pursued your investigations ? For the welfare of humanity ?

Not in any way. You have been instigated by one motive, and that a selfish one — the accumu lation of money, without the slightest regard to the possible danger which might accrue to the whole human race had you had but the ability to carry out your designs." " On what plea," said Mr. Cochrane, " can you bring such an infamous accusation against me ? From the very commencement of my experiments the powerful motive which has guided me has been the welfare of my fellow-creatures." "Admirable indeed !" said Mr. Ponsonby, with a sneer ; " admirable indeed ! Did it never occur to you that if you possessed the power of making sea-water inflammable, others, acting on your in vention, might do the same ? If you place the power of burning sea-water before the public, might not some miscreant or madman set fire to the ocean, and what then would be the result ?

I have not the slightest belief that you will ever succeed ; but that you ever took the subject of the danger into your serious consideration for one moment, I doubt, as you were totally absorbed in the one idea of making money." " At any rate," I said, " you cannot lay such a charge to my door. I have always kept within my bosom my own dangerous secret. I have thrown aside the power of accumulating an im mensity of wealth rather than run the risk of the terrible mischief that might follow if it were known to the world. Through good report and evil report I have concealed it. I have submitted for years to the imputation of insanity rather than that it should be known, and no tortures could wring it from me." " Of that I am fully persuaded," said Mr. Pon sonby, with a sneer so offensive that it was im possible to mistake his meaning.

My anger at this insult became ungovernable. " I fully understand your unconcealed sarcasm," I said, " and I treat it with unqualified contempt. Because your limited ability is unequal to com pass a thousandth part of the magnitude of my discovery, is that a reason that it does not exist ? I, at any rate, can bring forward broad proofs of the sound principles on which my experiments have been conducted. Judge for yourself, when your mind is sufficiently calm to reason lucidly, whether my invention is purely chimerical. Take an air-gun " Here I was interrupted by both Mr. Ponsonby and Mr. Cochrane bursting out into a most in sulting laugh, which continued so long that I had the greatest difficulty in restraining my rage within moderate bounds, and I totally forgot that I was speaking to two maniacs far more deserving of my sympathy than my anger.

" Laugh," I said, " as much as you please ; the consciousness of the power of my secret, as well as the purely philanthropic motives by which I have hitherto been governed, enable me to treat your rudeness with the contempt it deserves." " I compliment you on your dignified be haviour," said Mr. Ponsonby. " Allow me, out of purely kind feeling, to give you a little sum in arithmetic, and when you have clearly proved it, you may find great assistance in carrying out your future experiments. Show that two added to two make five, that two added to five will make ten, and so on. When you have accomplished that, I will admit there is every pro bability of your really possessing the power you assert to be in your hands. Till that time, permit me to remain in doubt. And now, gentlemen, without wishing to appear inhospitable, allow me to submit to you the advisability of our being hereafter as completely strangers to each other as is possible from the necessity we are under of living together."

Of course it was impossible to remain longer in his room after this very explicit proposition ; so I left him without even formally wishing him good evening, and Mr. Cochrane immediately followed me. For some time after our quarrel no conversation took place between us, although we met regularly day by day at dinner ; in fact, we all three avoided each other as much as possible. After all, I am persuaded the force of my arguments had con siderable weight with Mr. Ponsonby, although he affected to despise them, for instead of remaining secluded in his laboratory all the morning, as had hitherto been his custom, he now left his apartment after breakfast, and passed his time in wandering moodily about the grounds. I must also admit that the same line of conduct was followed both by Mr. Cochrane and myself.

We kept always as far distant from each other as pos sible, and whenever we met by chance, we angrily turned abruptly round and walked in a contrary direction. If the weather was so unfavourable as to preclude our leaving the house, we observed, as far as practicable, the same conduct within doors. In the common sitting-room we remained as distant from each other as possible, each attempt ing to assume an air of being ignorant of the other's presence. At table also we did the same. Formerly our chairs had been placed so that we might be as near each other as possible, but now we separated, Mr. Ponsonby sitting in the centre of the table on one side, while Mr. Cochrane and myself occupied the two extremities on the other. This behaviour continued for at least a fortnight without the slightest attempt at reconciliation on the part of either.