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11 July.--His spiders are now becoming as great a nuisance as his flies, and to-day I told him that he must get rid of
2them. He looked very sad at this, so I said that he must clear out some of them, at all events. He cheerfully acquiesced
3in this, and I gave him the same time as before for reduction. He disgusted me much while with him, for when a horrid
4blow-fly, bloated with some carrion food, buzzed into the room, he caught it, held it exultantly for a few moments
5between his finger and thumb, and, before I knew what he was going to do, put it in his mouth and ate it. I scolded him
6for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and very wholesome; that it was life, strong life, and gave life to
7him. This gave me an idea, or the rudiment of one. I must watch how he gets rid of his spiders. He has evidently some
8deep problem in his mind, for he keeps a little note-book in which he is always jotting down something. Whole pages of
9it are filled with masses of figures, generally single numbers added up in batches, and then the totals added in batches
10again, as though he were "focussing" some account, as the auditors put it. 8 July.--There is a method in his madness,
11and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, unconscious cerebration! you
12will have to give the wall to your conscious brother. I kept away from my friend for a few days, so that I might notice
13if there were any change. Things remain as they were except that he has parted with some of his pets and got a new one.
14He has managed to get a sparrow, and has already partially tamed it. His means of taming is simple, for already the
15spiders have diminished. Those that do remain, however, are well fed, for he still brings in the flies by tempting them
16with his food. 19 July.--We are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of sparrows, and his flies and spiders are
17almost obliterated. When I came in he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favour--a very, very great favour;
18and as he spoke he fawned on me like a dog. I asked him what it was, and he said, with a sort of rapture in his voice
19and bearing:-- "A kitten, a nice little, sleek playful kitten, that I can play with, and teach, and feed--and feed--and
20feed!" I was not unprepared for this request, for I had noticed how his pets went on increasing in size and vivacity,
21but I did not care that his pretty family of tame sparrows should be wiped out in the same manner as the flies and the
22spiders; so I said I would see about it, and asked him if he would not rather have a cat than a kitten. His eagerness
23betrayed him as he answered:-- "Oh, yes, I would like a cat! I only asked for a kitten lest you should refuse me a cat.
24No one would refuse me a kitten, would they?" I shook my head, and said that at present I feared it would not be
25possible, but that I would see about it. His face fell, and I could see a warning of danger in it, for there was a
26sudden fierce, sidelong look which meant killing. The man is an undeveloped homicidal maniac. I shall test him with his
27present craving and see how it will work out; then I shall know more. 10 p. m.--I have visited him again and found him
28sitting in a corner brooding. When I came in he threw himself on his knees before me and implored me to let him have a
29cat; that his salvation depended upon it. I was firm, however, and told him that he could not have it, whereupon he went
30without a word, and sat down, gnawing his fingers, in the corner where I had found him. I shall see him in the morning
31early. 20 July.--Visited Renfield very early, before the attendant went his rounds. Found him up and humming a tune. He
32was spreading out his sugar, which he had saved, in the window, and was manifestly beginning his fly-catching again; and
33beginning it cheerfully and with a good grace. I looked around for his birds, and not seeing them, asked him where they
34were. He replied, without turning round, that they had all flown away. There were a few feathers about the room and on
35his pillow a drop of blood. I said nothing, but went and told the keeper to report to me if there were anything odd
36about him during the day. 11 a. m.--The attendant has just been to me to say that Renfield has been very sick and has
37disgorged a whole lot of feathers. "My belief is, doctor," he said, "that he has eaten his birds, and that he just took
38and ate them raw!" 11 p. m.--I gave Renfield a strong opiate to-night, enough to make even him sleep, and took away his
39pocket-book to look at it. The thought that has been buzzing about my brain lately is complete, and the theory proved.
40My homicidal maniac is of a peculiar kind. I shall have to invent a new classification for him, and call him a
41zoöphagous (life-eating) maniac; what he desires is to absorb as many lives as he can, and he has laid himself out to
42achieve it in a cumulative way. He gave many flies to one spider and many spiders to one bird, and then wanted a cat to
43eat the many birds. What would have been his later steps? It would almost be worth while to complete the experiment. It
44might be done if there were only a sufficient cause. Men sneered at vivisection, and yet look at its results to-day! Why
45not advance science in its most difficult and vital aspect--the knowledge of the brain? Had I even the secret of one
46such mind--did I hold the key to the fancy of even one lunatic--I might advance my own branch of science to a pitch
47compared with which Burdon-Sanderson's physiology or Ferrier's brain-knowledge would be as nothing. If only there were a
48sufficient cause! I must not think too much of this, or I may be tempted; a good cause might turn the scale with me, for
49may not I too be of an exceptional brain, congenitally? How well the man reasoned; lunatics always do within their own
50scope. I wonder at how many lives he values a man, or if at only one. He has closed the account most accurately, and
51to-day begun a new record. How many of us begin a new record with each day of our lives? To me it seems only yesterday
52that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it will be until the Great Recorder
53sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance to profit or loss. Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you,
54nor can I be angry with my friend whose happiness is yours; but I must only wait on hopeless and work. Work! work! If I
55only could have as strong a cause as my poor mad friend there--a good, unselfish cause to make me work--that would be
56indeed happiness. Mina Murray's Journal.
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