A CRACKED HEART 



&quot; I should like to know,&quot; I asked, &quot; if you in 

 clude me in your species.&quot; 



&quot;Well, hardly. You re a good deal of a curi 

 osity. The only patient I ever had who did what 

 I told him. I was so incredulous that I had to 

 come up here and see it with my own eyes. You 

 deserve to live for ever.&quot; 



&quot; There wasn t much merit in it. You scared 

 me into it.&quot; 



He laughed. 



&quot; You were smart enough to rouse my will 

 power,&quot; I said, &quot; to a panicky point of renuncia 

 tion.&quot; 



&quot;Will-power. There you go. I ve heard 

 about will-power till it makes me weary. The 

 whole finite world has gone crazy on will-power. 

 There is a new quackery in the market made to 

 fit it, which prescribes will-power instead of mor 

 phine. Exert your God-given volition, it cries, 

 and rise above physical evil. But not one of 

 its quacks can add or subtract a heart-beat by 

 will-power, or contract an involuntary muscle. 

 Will-power is the sovereign slave-driver of the 

 material world. It removes mountains ; but I ll 

 be hanged for a mountebank if it can remove re 

 morse or set the jig for an overridden heart. Man 

 will go on with his will-power till he has used up 

 all the material forces of this globe, and then, if 

 he cannot get to any other, he will die of ennui. 

 I always say to a patient of mine : ( Don t give 

 me any of that will-power nonsense, if you please. 

 Just take your hand off the machine for a little 



95 



