Dr. Jonathan.  The fact that in his own home, in the shops which bore his name, no attempt had been made to meet the new issues for which he was going into battle, weighed upon him.  Then came the shell that shattered his body.  But the probabilities are that he was struck down, unconscious, at the very moment when the conflict in his mind was most acute.  He was thinking of you, of the difference you and he had had, he was lonely, he was afraid for the bravest men feel fear.  To him the bursting of the shell was the bursting of the conflict within him.  I won’t go into the professional side of the matter, the influence of the mental state on the physical—­but after the wound healed, whenever anything occurred to remind him of the conflict,—­a letter from you, the sight of the strikers this afternoon at the shops, meeting you once more, a repetition came of what happened when the shell struck him.  Certain glands fail in their functions, the heart threatens to stop and put an end to life.  If my theory is correct, what I have given him may tide over that danger, but only on one condition can he continue to live and become a useful member of society.

Asher.  What condition?

Dr. Jonathan.  That the mental conflict, the real cause of the trouble, he resolved.  The time has come, Asher, when you must make your choice between your convictions and your son.

Asher.  Speak out.

Dr. Jonathan.  I mean that you must be prepared to tell George, if he recovers, that you have abandoned your attitude toward the workmen, that you are willing to recognize their union, settle the strike, and go even further than in their ignorance they ask.  You must try the experiment in the democratization of industry on which George’s heart is set.  Otherwise I will not answer for his sanity, I cannot even give you the hope that he will live.

Asher.  I never heard of a mental conflict producing such a state!

Dr. Jonathan.  Remember, you have said that you will make any sacrifice to save George’s life.

Asher (turning on Dr. Jonathan).  You’re not trying to play on my—­my superstition,—­at a time like this!

Dr. Jonathan.  I’m not dealing with superstition, Asher, but with science.  If George revives, he will wish to talk with you.

Asher.  When?

Dr. Jonathan.  Probably this evening—­or never.  I ask you the question —­will you yield your convictions?

   (Asher bows his head.  Dr. Jonathan gazes at him for a moment,
   compassionately.)

I’ll go back to him now.  I think he’d better be moved to his room, and put to bed.