Page:Weird Tales Volume 2 Number 2 (1923-09).djvu/25

24  him. I am quite confident that it had interested him for many years. Personally, I must confess, the existence or non-existence of the soul in man never appealed to me as a subject for scientific discussion or research.

As to animals having souls; it never entered my mind. I recall our first conversation on the subject—these words especially:

"Those who do not believe the soul exists are not in a position to explain the phenomena of life. ''—'I think, therefore I am.' The Frenchman was right, I am what I am, no matter in what corporate or incorporate existence my ego may be. The spirit is as indestructible as energy."

It was shortly after this that I believe he began his strange experiments; although he did not take me into his confidence in these. I cannot, therefore, state anything as to their nature, although I am quite sure that they were not along the lines usually taken by psychic researchers. From my knowledge of his way of thinking, I am confident that his approach was from the physiologic or biologic point of view.

It was about the middle of June, or thereabouts, in 1916 that he called me on the telephone and asked me to spend the week-end at his country home on the North Shore.

"I want you to help me in an experiment that will open your eyes," was the reason he gave for the invitation.

It is needless to state that I accepted with alacrity. I was "fed up" with work, and a three days rest at his delightful home on the Sound was very appealing to me. As those who knew him are aware, Dr. Johnstone had no office in the city. His private practice was entirely as a consultant, and such cases as were referred to him by other physicians he saw in a room set aside for that purpose at the hospital. Not infrequently he was called in consultation out of the city. From June to October he spent his week-ends at his country home.

I found him waiting for me at the station, and as we went spinning along the pleasant country road in his high-powered roadster, which he had just purchased, our conversation was on the merits of his new car rather than on physiologic experiments. It was not until after an excellent dinner and we had lit our pipes on the porch that he told me of the nature of the experiment he intended to perform.

"As you perhaps know," he began, "I have been engaged for some time in research to prove the existence of the soul or personal identity. You are the only one who is acquainted with my efforts in that direction. It is needless for me to say, as you very well know, that if I had made my experiments public, my scientific friends, with hardly an exception, would have made of me a laughing stock.

"For that reason, except to you, who I know do not doubt my sanity, I have kept my work a secret. Hitherto, as in all research having to do with life and its functions, in health or disease, I have experimented with animals. I have now reached that stage where a human subject is necessary. I therefore propose to experiment on myself, or, rather, it is necessary for myself to form part of the experiment. That is why I have sent. for you. Not only that you, who in a sense I look upon as my pupil, may witness the physical demonstration of the existence of the ego outside of its original habitat, but also because I will require your assistance in what I propose to prove. It will mean that you will also participate in the fame which the proof will bring."

The technicalities of his proposed experiment he did not reveal; and as he did not seem to care to discuss them I turned the subject. The fact of the matter was that neither of us cared to talk "shop," and as the coming experiment was certainly included in that category we talked of other things.

I have often thought of that evening since. How little did either of us realize what was going to happen.

"Sleep as late as you please," were the parting words of my host before we went to bed.

If I were writing fiction it would now be in order, I suppose, to digress and tell how I was filled with vague fears of the morrow; how strange, weird noises or other happenings were heard or seen in the watches of the night, that would help to build the structure of the culminating horror. But nothing like that occurred.

There was no reason for it. A wonderful, far-reaching, perhaps out of the ordinary, scientific experiment was to be performed. Such are being done every day. To the scientist they are no more than a part of the day's work. The scientific demonstration of the soul or personal identity by means of a carefully reasoned and rationally worked out experiment, while fraught with intense interest, need not necessarily be uncanny. The investigations of Lodge, of Crookes, of Rochas, and—most recent of all—Richet, when subjected to scientific analysis are not ghostly or uncanny.

Science has no place for phenomena that reason cannot fathom. Such do not exist except in the imagination of those who feel, but do not think. But I have often thought of why Dr. Johnstone's great experiment had the outcome that it did. I can hardly bring myself to believe that the most important part of all should have been overlooked or provided against. For I never knew whether this was an oversight or just plain accident.

Perhaps they are right who say that there are some things which we cannot or rather, ought not to know, and that there is some Power, call it what you will, that says, "So far shalt thou go and no farther."

I do not know. In a way, the experiment failed; failed horribly; yet, Dr. Johnstone proved that the soul exists, that there is spirit as well as matter, proved it in a way that I, at least, could not possibly deny. Therefore, instead of saying that he failed, I shall say that he perished, for a man may perish and yet not fail.

I was awakened in the morning by the birds chirping in the trees. After breakfast, which, I remember, was a very cheerful meal, we went out on the porch and had a smoke.

"I think we had better go upstairs now," said Johnstone, when we had finished our pipes. "I want to be through by twelve, so that I can beat you on the links this afternoon."

"We'll see about that," I replied, laughing.

The laboratory was on the top floor and ran the whole length of the house. I had never been in it before, but I could see at a glance that it was very completely equipped. In the center of the room were two glass operating tables, and on one of them, covered by a sheet was what appeared to be a human form, either of a child or a rather short man or woman. The rhythmic rise and fall of the sheet showed that it was alive.

I raised the sheet and saw a full grown orang asleep, evidently under the influence of some narcotic.

"He's one part of the experiment," said Johnstone smiling, "and I'm the other."

I did not reply, and I did not return the smile. For some reason, I do not know why, I experienced a feeling of revulsion. To experiment with animals is to me very commonplace; so too, within certain limits, are experiments on human beings. I am not squeamish and I am not sentimental, but this—

"Do you intend to transfer your intelligence into the body of this ape and have his—whatever it is—pass into yours?" I asked.

"That is just what I intend to do," he replied. "If I can do that by physical means I will have proved not only that