M. Boirac, it is not because he is the only experimenter of repute in this field, but because he is one whose experiments have been made by an avowed possessor of the bio-magnetic influence, and whose mind seems wholly free from the mystical tendencies which so many inquirers, especially in England. are given to evince.

The inquiry is clearly of great inportance. It is nothing less than the systematic study of a form at least of the extra-corporeal attribute of life which humanity has, from the remotest ages, suspected to exist and as to which it has exercised to the utmost its imaginative powers. What is there in the living body that may be called extraneous to the matter of which it is composed? There may be one or several things.

Early inquirers conceived

a spirit in some way connected with the breath of life. Others have supposed a brain function, and now there is postulated the bio-magnetic influence which either embraces these or is distinct. The term life impulse may include the bio-psychical activity or it may be separated from it. It may be that this activity is an electricity derived from the universal electricity animating matter generally, but only manifesting itself in special conditions. A conclusion in this sense would go far to prove that life itself is electricity, and that a monism which declared it such had reached the truth. The force that can kill may also be the force that can cause to live, according as it is proportioned and conditioned. The final cause of death itself may be the failure of the body to produce this force in the measure and the manner needed for the life process.

It may be that by reason of its comparative scarcity, it can never be of any appreciable physical utility, and up to now, its curative effects (vainly evoked by Mesmer) have not been proved, unless it be in the form of

suggestion, which may or may not be a mode of the same influence; but it should be a sufficient reason that it is known to exist, with some degree of certainty, to induce inquirers to make. in the cause of knowledge, a careful study of its manifestations. Truths might be thus revealed which might greatly aid the solution of the riddle of existence.

By the methods hitherto employed by psychical inquirers, little knowledge may be gained. Observation must be supplemented by experiment conducted with precision and aided by appliances or instruments. We know that psychology existed in a state of nebulous uncertainty, entangled in the web of metaphysics, until it began to be studied in the hospital and in the laboratory. It is the same with this new science, if such it may be called, which waits reliable and accurate investigators and the rigid application of experimental methods.

It is not because we are in general completely unaware that this power dwells in us, that we should necessarily deny that it exists. As M. Boirac says, "All our emotions, all our volitious, all our thoughts themselves are accompanied in our muscles by imperceptible fibril movements which translate them faithfully as they unfold and modify themselves. We have, as a rule, not the least suspicion of them. but experiments such as that of the pendulum of Chevreuil immediately cause them to become manifest."

In recent years, by the discovery of X-rays and radium, matter has been shown to possess properties which were never dreamt of by the physicists of fifty years ago, and there would appear to be no grounds for dogmatically asserting that the matter of which the human body is composed has yielded all its secrets yet. Just as men were once ignorant of the circulation of the blood, so it may be that there are

dormant neuronic forces in us which still await discovery. I should not like to be held to say they do exist; but I think that sufficient reasons have now been offered to legitimize investigation.

There are few men who are not desirous of knowing more about life than we know at present. The desire to ascertain what it is that animates matter is inextinguishable and will continue until it is satisfied. It is not enough to be told that the origin of life is merged in the protoplasmic origin of living things. That is not sufficient to The Nineteenth Century and After.

allay our curiosity. If we cannot learn why life is, we may at least hope to discover to what causes it is due, and to do so we should neglect no clue, however slight it may at first appear. In obedience to what laws does the animation of protoplasm happen? How does it occur that the germ-plasm acquires mind as it develops? May it not be that the X force which appears to dwell in living bodies is one which cooperates to animate the germ, and is, in part at least, the principle of life? F. Carrel.

I.

Godfrey Bulliatt, M. P., was, as all Eastnorshire knew, the owner of Carples Hall and the big estate that surrounded it. He had not made his money in steel or pork or oil; but he was a substantial, prosperous county gentleman, born into a good social position, and possessed of sufficient wealth to maintain it. He was M.P. for the southern division of the county. The family traditions were Liberal; but Godfrey Bulliatt had refused the Home Rule leap, and had retained his seat by the votes of those who until then had been his political opponents. He was on the whole a popular man in the county. He was a sportsman, had been the best boxer at Eton, had rowed in the Cambridge boat, and was a splendid shot. In the matter of the foxhounds he had been more than liberal, and he was a subscribing president or vice-president of innumerable cricket and football clubs. He could hold his own in any society, and more than once he had entertained Royalty itself at Carples. Altogether, a sound, strong, prosperous man.

In every cup, however, there lurks one bitter drop, and the memory of his first marriage still rankled in his

heart. Not that there had been scandal or sensation of any kind. It had been a perfectly decorous but quite unmistakable failure. When he married Louisa Cuxbery every one thought he had done very well indeed, for she was the favorite niece of old Miss Cuxbery, who was not only fabulously rich, but also the possessor of the famous Cuxbery diamonds, worth a fortune in themselves. Louisa was a poor, timid, delicate little thing, with not much to say for herself, and no outstanding accomplishments; but oue can't have everything, and the diamonds and investments would cover a multitude of failings. All his perfectly reasonable and legitimate calculations, however, were speedily upset. Miss Cuxbery, to his great delight, invited herself to Carples within three months of the marriage. He received her almost with his royalty manners, and in return she pronounced him an odious creature, and quarreled violently with her niece, declaring that no one could possibly have married him except for mercenary motives. Within a year the poor little wife had released her husband, as far as she could, from his unfortunate contract, leaving be bind her, however, a singularly small

and unattractive baby, who was duly christened with great pomp Vivian Godfrey Herbert Tankerton Bulliatt.

After a brief, but still decent, interval, the bereaved husband threw his handkerchief again, and this time he left nothing to chance. Lady Nina Beaukirke was a distinguished-looking young lady, with a splendid figure and an adequate settlement. She was magnificently healthy, and had an excellent temper and a more than passable intelligence. Year by year she bore him a series of record babies, as sturdy and well built as their father and as even-tempered as their mother. As they developed into girls and boys the sporting element soon manifested itself, and the proud father often chuckled when he saw Bertie shaping at the wicket like a miniature Jackson, or Elinor galloping fearlessly round the paddock on her pony.

II.

When Vivian was thirteen the headmaster of the preparatory school where he and Bertie were being educated came over to Carples one Sunday afternoon.

"What a fine little chap your Bertie is!" he said. "He's one of the youngest boys in the school, and yet he's made his own place already. His batting is really quite wonderful for bis age."

"What about his Latin?" asked Mr. Bulliatt with a smile.

"Very fair, very fair indeed," replied Mr. Lewthorpe; "quite promising, I should say. Of course, to a boy built as he is, games will always be a great attraction."

The father nodded. "And what about Vivian?" he asked.

Mr. Lewthorpe's expression immediately became diplomatic. He hesltated for a moment. "Well," he began, "it is really about Vivian that I came over to see you, Mr. Bulliatt. He is a

dear boy-a dear boy. Mrs. Lewthorpe thinks there is no one like him, but he causes me a good deal of anxiety."

"Why, what's he been up to?"

"Nothing. That's exactly what makes me anxious. We've been boys ourselves, Mr. Bulliatt, and we know that a healthy normal boy is always up to something. Now, Vivian is too quiet, too restrained, too correct in his behavior. It seems strange for a schoolmaster to complain that a boy gives him no trouble; but I assure you I should be quite relieved to see Vivian get into a good, wholesome scrape."

"So that you could give him a good, wholesome licking, eh?" said Mr. Bulliatt, with a laugh that had, perhaps, just a hint of annoyance in it.

"That's the last thing I can imagine myself doing to Vivian. Why, I'd almost as soon eane my Fanny!" exclaimed the headmaster.

They were walking on the terrace in front of the drawing-room, and they took a couple of turns in silence.

of

Then Mr. Lewthorpe spoke again. "It's against my own interest, course, but I've been wondering whether school-life is the best for such a boy just at this particular stage." "What else would you advise?" "I think perhaps if he were kept at home for another year with a tutor it might tide over a difficult time. I have known such cases before. A year at that age makes a wonderful difference."

"Well," said Mr. Bulliatt after another silent turn, "I dare say you're right. At any rate we'll try. But I'm afraid he'll never make a decent English schoolboy. He's never been like my other boys. Why, a few months ago an old aunt of a sort sent him 2 present of a box of dolls. Fancy! A boy of his age! He simply took them and began playing with the

nursery children, and showing them the dolls. It isn't natural. Still, we'll try what you suggest. As you say, a year may make a lot of difference to him."

III.

A year went by, and others in its train; but the contrast between Vivian and his half-brothers only became more sharply defined. They went to Eton and upheld the family reputation for sportsmanship. He was so obviously unfit for the hurly-burly of public-school life that, instead, he was sent to read with a clergyman in Yorkshire. Bertie at fifteen was taller, heavier, and far stronger than his elder brother, who grew up 21 short, slight, dapper young man, with a high, rather narrow forehead and pale-blue eyes. Even about his best physical features there was nothing characteristically virile. His eyebrows were beautifully arched, his lips were finely modelled, and his hair was soft as silk. He was not stupid; indeed, he was distinctly imaginative,

and he developed a decided talent for drawing. But in the ordinary branches of school education he was backward. He went to Oxford, however, in due course, and with careful coaching managed to pass his examinations just about the time that Bertie covered himself with glory by scoring 80 not out, and saving the match against Harrow.

On his twenty-second birthday Vivian was astonished to receive a cheque for one thousand pounds from Miss Cuxbery. When he was about twelve he had been invited to spend a week with the old lady, and a year later she had sent him the unfortunate dolls that had aroused his father's indignation. From that time till the date of the cheque she had taken no further notice at all of him or of any of the family, and six months after the send

ing of the one thousand pounds she died suddenly. Her will contained no reference to the Bulliatts. She seemed to have hunted out her remotest family connections, and left all her property among them. As for the famous diamonds, they were not even mentioned in the will. Some of the nearer relatives talked of opposing probate on the ground that the old lady must have been of unsound mind, and even Mr. Bulliatt went up to town and consulted his solicitor; but it soon became apparent that they had not a leg to stand upon. Miss Cuxbery was eccentric, had a bitter, cross-grained humor, and was violently prejudiced; but her mind was clear and vigorous to the very last.

So far, Vivian, though certainly a disappointment, had given his father no serious trouble. With his stepmother he had always been a favorite, for to the second family, especially to the little ones, he had shown himself an exemplary elder brother. But in the midst of all those strong, active, energetic people he had appeared a singular, pathetic figure, a negligible factor in the sum that represented the Carples household. And then quite suddenly, in a moment, the negligible factor became significant, and the habitually weak stood revealed as the unexpect edly strong.