A moment later he turned about and with a smile
said: 'I beg your pardon; I had no thought of eva-
sion. I considered the dictionary man's unconscious
testimony suggestive and worth something in the
discussion. I can give your question a direct answer
easily enough: I do believe that a machine thinks
about the work that it is doing.'
That was direct enough, certainly. It was not al-
together pleasing, for it tended to confirm a sad
suspicion that Moxon's devotion to study and work
in his machine-shop had not been good for him. I
knew, for one thing, that he suffered from insomnia,
and that is no light affliction. Had it affected his
mind? His reply to my question seemed to me then
evidence that it had; perhaps I should think dif-
ferently about it now. I was younger then, and
among the blessings that are not denied to youth
is ignorance. Incited by that great stimulant to con-
troversy, I said:
'And what, pray, does it think with--in the ab-
sence of a brain?'
The reply, coming with less than his customary
delay, took his favourite form of counter-interroga-
tion:
'With what does a plant think--in the absence of
a brain?'
'Ah, plants also belong to the philosopher class!
I should be pleased to know some of their conclu-
sions; you may omit the premises.'
'Perhaps,' he replied, apparently unaffected by
my foolish irony, 'you may be able to infer their
convictions from their acts.
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