It is because I trust that no one will read what I have written, that I am willing to put into writing the events that have befallen me, even in my own private diary. Other than this, I don't believe I shall tell a soul what I have experienced, not even my cousin, on whose account the events that befell me have come to pass. I daresay he'll notice that I have changed, and wonder why, but it would be a disgrace to tell him what I learned at the lecture of Dr. James Braid.
James Braid...I cannot now write that name without a thrill of excitement running through me. It scares me to know that the hold he took on my mind still has these lingering effects, but the thrill of excitement overpowers the fear. It is as if it is tangible, sitting pleasantly between my legs. I'll say no more now, as I find myself unable to keep hold of the pen...
...I suppose, for the purpose of recording the effects of the new science of hypnotism, I ought to put what has just transpired in this journal as well. As my excitement grew, a feeling almost like hysteria seized me. As I sat there, alone in my bedroom and wearing only a nightgown, I felt a pull from between my legs, beckoning my fingers to it. As the tips of my fingers approached the spot between my legs, the pull grew stronger, and with it, the hysteria and euphoria grew until I had almost reached a paroxysm before my fingers met my sex. I began to rub shamelessly, like a beast in heat, and the pleasure welled up within me like a bubble, growing so large inside me that I worried that my body would not be able to handle the strength of the waves of pleasure when it burst. Within seconds, hysterical paroxysm seized me, traveling through my body in waves of euphoria so strong that I could scarcely manage them. I collapsed, lost track of time. Whether I was unconscious or hypnotized, I do not know, but when I came to myself again, I had to light another candle, as the one I had lit before had burnt out.
But I suppose I must tell you where my tale begins. I am almost ashamed to put the name of my Reverend cousin on the same page as the smut I've been writing, but it all begins with his denouncement of the gentleman scientist , hypnotist and surgeonJames Braid, In an impassioned speech, Reverend Hugh M'Neile denounced the science of hypnotism which Braid had developed from the works of Mesmer and Lafontaine. Hugh was a slight man standing before a sedate church, wearing the most proper of London-style attire, yet his manner was as furious as a savage's. He began by promising, with an air of complete certainty that in the days of reckoning, men like Braid and Lafontaine would meet their downfall. He screamed himself hoarse that Braid was a corrupt conman, until I was certain he could speak no more, but speak more he did, hollering that animal magnetism was but another term for satanic agency. At the time, I knew nothing of hypnotism. Though I had a distaste for anything I thought to be ungodly, the fury and commotion in the speeches of my cousin always reminded me more of the agents of darkness than those of light. I would never wish to speak ill of my cousin, but I wonder sometimes if he would not do better to imitate the mild-mannered preachers of old.
I learned from Hugh only a few days later that Dr. James Braid had extended to him an invitation to a talk, in which, he said, he would dispel whatever misconceptions Hugh had about Neurohypnology, as Braid called the science. Hugh had scoffed and thrown the letter on the ground, but the rage with which he did so sparked a fire of rebellion within me. I told him that I would be willing to attend the talk in his stead, and tell him if anything Satanic had transpired there. To this, Hugh scoffed.
"He purports to be a man of science. Do you think he would run that image by telling his secrets to a woman?"
I thought fast, then said, "Perhaps he would only tell his secrets to a woman. Perhaps he would think no one would believe a woman anyway if she said he were Satanic."
Hugh sighed.
"Do as you wish," he said, "If your father will allow you to attend, I have no power to stop you."
Thankfully, Papa did allow me to take Hugh's ticket and attend the lecture. I left Hugh with a promise that I would keep him informed on what transpired there. His parting words to me were "Like Daniel of old, you will be entering the lion's den. Pray that God will shield you, and you may make it out unharmed."
"Danielle of the lion's den," Papa chuckled as I stepped onto the coach.
And then I was on my own. Dr. Braid had sent only one ticket to the event, and Papa had as little desire to attend as Hugh did, so I was in the carriage alone. When I stepped out, I was made even more aware of my vulnerability, as men of science jostled past me into the lecture hall, accompanied by wives adorned in much more ostentatious fineries than my Sunday best. I was the only unaccompanied woman in attendance, and I felt small and lost. I took a seat in the back of the lecture hall and began to pray, as Hugh had recommended.
Then the lion himself took the stage: Dr. James Braid. I noted the differences between his manner and that of Hugh. Where Hugh was lean, Dr. Braid was burly. His coat hugged the girth of his arms and shoulders. It tapered dramatically to a swallowtail in the back, while in the front it was buttoned just low enough to show the dazzling red of the silk vest that lay underneath. His calves were visible under his kilt; the massive size of them seemed to me almost unbecoming of a scientist. For a moment, I felt a flash of curiosity about the kilt...what did men wear under them? What did the rest of the leg look like? For a moment, I almost wished that he would lift the kilt in front of me I liked Braid's demeanor as well. The lecture hall was small enough that I could tell even from the back row that he simply had none of the nervous air that some men get before speaking, I could see his gaze even and his breathing steady, and I wondered what the secret was to his unshaken demeanor. I imagined what it might be like to have a husband who was so calm and confident, how I could feel safe in the arms of such a man. Then Braid began to speak. He addressed the audience as if they were friends, assuring us that it was quite understandable that we might have some misconceptions, but that the light of truth would put our minds at ease. He was, after all, ultimately in the service of truth.
A man of truth...I felt more at ease hearing him say it, since I know that God is truth, and no man of truth could ever be a man of the Prince of Lies.
He explained to the audience his discovery: that the hypnotic state was not induced by the force of the mesmerist, as Franz Mesmer and Lafontaine asserted, but that the power to enter the state lay dormant in each subject. The state of hypnosis, he explained, was induced by engaging the subject's concentration intensely on a single object. But the strangest thing of all was that Dr. Braid seemed genuinely sorry that Reverend M'Neile had not been in attendance at his talk. He spoke as if he bore no ill will toward my cousin as a person, but merely pitied his misinformed state. It was for this reason that I decided to raise my hand when he took questions. Even from the back row, the only single woman at the lecture was conspicuous.
"And ye are?" he asked in his deep brogue.
"Danielle M'Neile," I answered quietly.
"Just out of curiosity, are you related to Reverend M'Neile?"
"He's my cousin."
The doctor smiled.
"Well, ask away then, ask away."
I searched for some way to encapsulate the many questions that were swarming in my mind, some about his opinion of my cousin, others about the talk he just gave, and still others that were too improper to express...that curiosity about what was under his kilt. I forced the untoward questions out of my consciousness and tried to sum up my many thoughts as best I could.
"Well, I was just wondering, doctor...I do concentrate singularly on many things. When I'm praying in church, for instance. And I was just wondering, why isn't hypnosis happening then?"
I wondered if I had sounded silly as the doctor paused, formulating his response to my question.
"I think there are many questions in the one. You seem to be questioning a bit about whether the theory is scientific, and a bit about my attitude toward religion? Am I right?"
I nodded.
"Let me just assure all of you that I respect religion. I go to church and pray, and I admire a man or woman who does so."
The feeling that he might admire something about me was strangely euphoric.
"As for why prayer doesn't lead to hypnotism, my answer is that sometimes it does. The meditation and mental self-discipline that is the prayer of the Eastern religions especially, as well as the so-called séances and fortune-reading of the occult. Contrary to the claims that these phenomena come from powerful forces beyond our control, there is nothing supernatural about the hypnotic state, no invisible magnetism or force of any angel or demon. It's a completely natural state that any mind can enter."
I thought as he took questions. He certainly seemed to sincerely believe what he said. There was only one way to know for sure. He said that any mind could undergo the process and realize that it was a natural state. I'd have to put my own mind to the test. When Dr. Braid said that time remained for only one more question, I raised my hand. He nodded toward me
"I was wondering," I said, my heart hammering in my throat, "If you had time to give me a demonstration of hypnotism."
"Aye, I think I shall have time," he said.
And that was that. There was no turning back.
My mind was to be put to the test, and I was to experience something that but a few days prior I had been told was Satanic. How could I have known then, what it would be like? Indeed, I was bracing myself for just about anything.
As the crowd filed out, Dr. Braid motioned for me to follow him backstage from where he had given the lecture. I followed, and he opened a door to a room that had two comfortable-looking chairs facing each other. He held the door for me and, slightly comforted by the gesture, I entered the room. I sat in one chair and he in the other.
"May I ask you a question now, lass?"
