over the teacups- 第2部分

arguments；　illustrations；　and　catchwords！　　Think　of　the　editor；　as

Carlyle　has　pictured　him；　threshing　the　same　straw　every　morning；

until　we　know　what　is　coming　when　we　see　the　first　line；　as　we　do

when　we　read　the　large　capitals　at　the　head　of　a　thrilling　story；

which　ends　in　an　advertisement　of　an　all…cleansing　soap　or　an　all…

curing　remedy！



The　latch…key　which　opens　into　the　inner　chambers　of　my　consciousness

fits；　as　I　have　sufficient　reason　to　believe；　the　private　apartments

of　a　good　many　other　people's　thoughts。　　The　longer　we　live；　the　more

we　find　we　are　like　other　persons。　　When　I　meet　with　any　facts　in　my

own　mental　experience；　I　feel　almost　sure　that　I　shall　find　them

repeated　or　anticipated　in　the　writings　or　the　conversation　of

others。　　This　feeling　gives　one　a　freedom　in　telling　his　own　personal

history　he　could　not　have　enjoyed　without　it。　　My　story　belongs　to

you　as　much　as　to　me。　　De　te　fabula　narratur。　　Change　the　personal

pronoun；that　is　all。　　It　gives　many　readers　a　singular　pleasure　to

find　a　writer　telling　them　something　they　have　long　known　or　felt；

but　which　they　have　never　before　found　any　one　to　put　in　words　for

them。　　An　author　does　not　always　know　when　he　is　doing　the　service　of

the　angel　who　stirred　the　waters　of　the　pool　of　Bethesda。　　Many　a

reader　is　delighted　to　find　his　solitary　thought　has　a　companion；　and

is　grateful　to　the　benefactor　who　has　strengthened　him。　　This　is　the

advantage　of　the　humble　reader　over　the　ambitious　and　self…

worshipping　writer。　　It　is　not　with　him　pereant　illi；　but　beati　sunt

illi　qui　pro　nobis　nostra　dixerunt；　　…Blessed　are　those　who　have　said

our　good　things　for　us。



What　I　have　been　saying　of　repetitions　leads　me　into　a　train　of

reflections　like　which　I　think　many　readers　will　find　something　in

their　own　mental　history。　　The　area　of　consciousness　is　covered　by

layers　of　habitual　thoughts；　as　a　sea…beach　is　covered　with　wave…

worn；　rounded　pebbles；　shaped；　smoothed；　and　polished　by　long

attrition　against　each　other。　　These　thoughts　remain　very　much　the

same　from　day　to　day；　from　week　to　week；　and　as　we　grow　older；　from

month　to　month；　and　from　year　to　year。　　The　tides　of　wakening

consciousness　roll　in　upon　them　daily　as　we　unclose　our　eyelids；　and

keep　up　the　gentle　movement　and　murmur　of　ordinary　mental　respiration

until　we　close　them　again　in　slumber。　　When　we　think　we　are　thinking；

we　are　for　the　most　part　only　listening　to　sound　of　attrition　between

these　inert　elements　of　intelligence。　　They　shift　their　places　a

little；　they　change　their　relations　to　each　other；　they　roll　over　and

turn　up　new　surfaces。　　Now　and　then　a　new　fragment　is　cast　in　among

them；　to　be　worn　and　rounded　and　takes　its　place　with　the　others；　but

the　pebbled　floor　of　consciousness　is　almost　as　stationary　as　the

pavement　of　a　city　thoroughfare。



It　so　happens　that　at　this　particular　tine　I　have　something　to　tell

which　I　am　quite　sure　is　not　one　of　rolled　pebbles　which　my　reader

has　seen　before　in　any　of　my　pages；　or；　as　I　feel　confident；　in　those

of　any　other　writer。



If　my　reader　asks　why　I　do　not　send　the　statement　I　am　going　to　make

to　some　one　of　the　special　periodicals　that　deal　with　such　subjects；

my　answer　is；　that　I　like　to　tell　my　own　stories　at　my　own　time；　in

own　chosen　columns；　where　they　will　be　read　by　a　class　of　readers

with　whom　I　like　to　talk。



All　men　of　letters　or　of　science；　all　writers　well　known　to　the

public；　are　constantly　tampered　with；　in　these　days；　by　a　class　of

predaceous　and　hungry　fellow…laborers　who　may　be　collectively　spoken

of　as　the　brain…tappers。　　They　want　an　author's　ideas　on　the　subjects

which　interest　them；　the　inquirers；　from　the　gravest　religious　and

moral　questions　to　the　most　trivial　matters　of　his　habits　and　his

whims　and　fancies。　　Some　of　their　questions　he　cannot　answer；　some　he

does　not　choose　to　answer；　some　he　is　not　yet　ready　to　answer；　and

when　he　is　ready　he　prefers　to　select　his　own　organ　of　publication。

I　do　not　find　fault　with　all　the　brain…tappers。　　Some　of　them　are

doing　excellent　service　by　accumulating　facts　which　could　not

otherwise　be　attained。　　Rut　one　gets　tired　of　the　strings　of

questions　sent　him；　to　which　he　is　expected　to　return　an　answer；

plucked；　ripe　or　unripe；　from　his　private　tree　of　knowledge。　　The

braintappers　are　like　the　owner　of　the　goose　that　laid　the　golden

eggs。　　They　would　have　the　embryos　and　germs　of　one's　thoughts　out　of

the　mental　oviducts；　and　cannot　wait　for　their　spontaneous　evolution

and　extrusion。



The　story　I　have　promised　is；　on　the　whole；　the　most　remarkable　of　a

series　which　I　may　have　told　in　part　at　some　previous　date；　but

which；　if　I　have　not　told；　may　be　worth　recalling　at　a　future　time。



Some　few　of　my　readers　may　remember　that　in　a　former　paper　I

suggested　the　possibility　of　the　existence　of　an　idiotic　area　in　the

human　mind；　corresponding　to　the　blind　spot　in　the　human　retina。　　I

trust　that　I　shall　not　be　thought　to　have　let　my　wits　go　wandering　in

that　region　of　my　own　intellectual　domain；　when　I　relate　a　singular

coincidence　which　very　lately　occurred　in　my　experience；　and　add　a

few　remarks　made　by　one　of　our　company　on　the　delicate　and　difficult

but　fascinating　subject　which　it　forces　upon　our　attention。　　I　will

first　copy　the　memorandum　made　at　the　time：



〃Remarkable　coincidence。　　On　Monday；　April　18th；　being　at　table　from

6。30　P。　　M。　　to　7。30；　with　________and　________　the　two　ladies　of　my

household；　I　told　them　of　the　case　of　'trial　by　battel'　offered　by

Abraham　Thornton　in　1817。　　I　mentioned　his　throwing　down　his　glove；

which　was　not　taken　up　by　the　brother　of　his　victim；　and　so　he　had　to

be　let　off；　for　the　old　law　was　still　in　force。　　I　mentioned　that

Abraham　Thornton　was　said　to　have　come　to　this　country；　'and　＇I　added

he　may　be　living　near　us；　for　aught　that　I　know。'　I　rose　from　the

table；　and　found　an　English　letter　waiting　for　me；　left　while　I　sat

at　dinner。　　d　copy　the　first　portion　of　this　letter：





'20　ALFRED　PLACE；　West　（near　Museum）

South　Kensington；　LONDON；　S。　　W。

April　7；　1887。



DR。　O。　W　。　HOLMES：



DEAR　SIR；In　travelling；　the　other　day；　I　met　with　a　reprint　of　the

very　interesting　case　of　Thornton　for　murder；　1817。　　The　prisoner

pleaded　successfully　the　old　Wager　of　Battel。　　I　thought　you　would

like　to　read　the　account；　and　send　it　with　this。。。。



Yours　faithfully；



FRED。　　RATHBONE。'〃



Mr。　　Rathbone　is　a　well…known　dealer　in　old　Wedgwood　and　eighteenth…

century　art。　　As　a　friend　of　my　hospitable　entertainer；　Mr。　Willett；

he　had　shown　me　many　attentions　in　England；　but　I　was　not　expecting

any　communication　from　him；　and　when；　fresh　from　my　conversation；　I

found　this　letter　just　arrived　by　mail；　and　left　while　I　was　at

table；　and　on　breaking　the　seal　read　what　I　had　a　few　moments　before

been；　telling；　I　was　greatly　surprised；　and　immediately　made　a　note

of　the　occurrence；　as　given　above。



I　had　long　been　familiar　with　all　the　details　of　this　celebrated

case；；　but　had　not　referred　to　it；　so　far　as　I　can　remember；　for

months　or　years。　　I　know　of　no　train　of　thought　which　led　me　to　speak

of　it　on　that　particular　day。　　I　had　never　alluded　to　it　before　in

that　company；　nor　had　I　ever　spoken　of　it　with　Mr。　Rathbone。



I　told　this　story　over　our　teacups。　　Among　the　company　at　the　table

is　a　young　English　girl。　　She　seemed　to　be　amused　by　the　story。

〃Fancy！〃　she　said；〃how　very　very　odd！〃　　〃It　was　a　striking　and

curious　coincidence；〃　said　the　professor　who　was　with　us　at　the

table。　　〃As　remarkable　as　two　teaspoons　in　one　saucer；〃　was　the

comment　of　a　college　youth　who　happened　to　be　one　of　the　company。

But　the　member　of　our　circle　whom　the　reader　will　hereafter　know　as

Number　Seven；　began　stirring　his　tea　in　a　nervous　sort　of　way；　and　I

knew　that　he　was　getting　ready　to　say　something　about　the　case。　　An

ingenious　man　he　is；　with　a　brain　like　a　tinder…box；　its　contents

catching　at　any　spark　that　is　flying　about。　　I　always　like　to　hear

what　he　says　when　his　tinder　brain　has　a　spark　fall　into　it。　　It　does

not　follow　that　because　he　is　often　wrong　he　may　not　sometimes　be

right；　for　he　is　no　fool。　　He　treated　my　narrative　very　seriously。



The　reader　need　not　be　startled　at　the　new　terms　he　introduces。

Indeed；　I　am　not　quite　sure　that　some　thinking　people　will　not　adopt

his　view　of　the　matter；　which　seems　to　have　a　degree　of　plausibility

as　he　states　and　illustrates　it。



〃The　impulse　which　led　you　to　tell　that　story　passed　directly　from

the　letter；　which　came　charged　from　the　cells　of　the　cerebral　battery

of　your　correspondent。　　The　distance　at　which　the　action　took　place

＇the　letter　was　left　on　a　shelf　twenty…four　feet　from　the　place　where

I　was　sitting＇　shows　this　charge　to　have　been　of　notable　intensity。



〃Brain　action　through　space　without　material　symbolism；　such　as

speech；　expression；　etc。；　is　analogous　to　electrical　induction。

Charge　the　prime　conductor　of　an　electrical　machine；　and　a　gold…leaf

electrometer；　far　off　from　it；　will　at　once　be　disturbed。

Electricity；　as　we　all　know；　can　be　stored　and　transported　as　if　it

were　a　measurable　fluid。



〃Your　incident　is　a　typical　example　of　cerebral　induction　from　a

source　containing　stored　cerebricity。　　I　use　this　word；　not　to　be

found　in　my　dictionaries；　as　expressing　the　brain…cell　power

corresponding　to　electricity。　　Think　how　long　it　was　before　we　had

attained　any　real　conception　of　the　laws　that　govern　the　wonderful

agent；　which　now　works　in　harness　with　the　other　trained　and　subdued

forces！　　It　is　natural　that　cerebricity　should　be　the　last　of　the

unweighable　agencies　to　be　understood。　　The　human　eye　had　seen　heaven

and　earth　and　all　that　in　them　is　before　it　saw　itself　as　our

instruments　enable　us　to　see　it。　　This　fact　of　yours；　which　seems　so

strange　to　you；　belongs　to　a　great　series　of　similar　facts　familiarly

known　now　to　m