Francis Worcester Doughty

Summary

Francis Worcester Doughty Mirrikh, or, A Woman from Mars… (1892)

And yet I solemnly affirm that so far as my own consciousness went, I was precisely the same George Wylde I had been before.
I was a man; a living man, with every atom of my personality perfect; every member of my body, every stitch of my clothing intact; yet when I spoke, no one heard; when I moved about I seemed to pass directly through the forms around me. Already I had forgotten Padma’s injunction. I had not fixed my thoughts upon my body.
Source: Wikisource

Francis Worcester Doughty Mirrikh, or, A Woman from Mars… (1892)

Like Mr. Mirrikh’s face, half yellow, half black; yet inside of that body—and I seemed able to look inside without the slightest difficulty, I could see another man, perfect in every particular. This was Maurice De Veber as I knew him—there was no change.
When I first saw him I shouted his name aloud, but now finding that I could not make my presence known, I contented myself with simply looking at him and surveying his surroundings which were, of course, of the highest interest, for then I had not the slightest doubt that I was actually on the planet Mars.
Source: Wikisource

Francis Worcester Doughty Mirrikh, or, A Woman from Mars… (1892)

You are going too far, your life cord is being strained beyond endurance. Fix your thoughts upon your body without delay!”
It was a bitter disappointment to me, but I could not disobey.
I closed my eyes and thought of that body which I had seen thrown into the shute with as little ceremony as if it had been a meal sack.
Instantly the wondrous scene was obliterated and all consciousness left me.
The next I knew I was experiencing precisely the same sensations one feels when recovering from a fainting fit.
“Wylde! Wylde! Wake up! Wylde! Wylde! Speak to me, for God’s sake!”
Source: Wikisource

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