CHAPTER V.
OXFORD.
NEXT morning we started together by an early train for Oxford. On the whole, my singular friend appeared more pleased with the university city than I expected;—the number of public buildings, the grouping of the architecture, the gardens, the museum, the libraries.
"I rather like Oxford," he said, after a few hours' hurried walk about the colleges and "the lions"; "If I had time I should wish to stay a day or two here. It reminds me "
He paused and did not finish the sentence.
"At any rate stay the night," I said. "You are really not doing justice to the city, and I should like to introduce you to some friends."
I had, indeed, asked some of the reading set to which I belonged—all quiet, studious men, going in for honours—to my rooms to coffee after dinner. Posela consented to stay another day with me, and dine with me.
My friends were warm in their reception of me, and full of questions about my adventures in the siege. I soon noticed, however, that my strange companion attracted their attention. Quiet, unassuming, and retiring though he was, there certainly was something so singular in his manner, appearance, and mode of speech, that one could not help observing him. Hilbert, a Merton man, with whom I was very intimate, and who had joined our party, was especially fascinated by him. Hilbert was an eccentric man, who was chaffed a good deal for his credulity in mesmerism and spiritualism. He and Posela were greatly drawn to each other, and were soon on Hilbert's favourite topic—the occult sciences.
"I am convinced," said Hilbert, "that there are two ruling forces in this world at the present day. Money and Psychic force. Of these I am by no means sure that the latter and least accepted is not really the most potent; for the man possessed of psychic force can compel those under his influence to give their money as he wishes by will-power. Many of the great men of history have been so, not so much by reason of their mental endowments, as by reason of this psychic force. See Napoleon I.—how marvellous, almost supernatural, was his career; and a great deal of it was due to his will-power over men. In destroying authority, and in weakening the power of kings and priests, we have given these two forces—money and psychic power—unbounded range. As long as authority existed, the rich man might be restrained in the use of his wealth, and psychic force had also its limits. Now, more and more, man deals with man in the battle of life; thus the richest and strongest gain supremacy."
"True," I said. "I see this most markedly in the religious movements of this world. How marvellous is the devotion of some of the sects, who profess so strongly to believe in private judgment, and the rights of liberty of conscience for their leaders and preachers. I can only account for this by psychic force. All revivalism partakes of it. A revival is a kind of séance, where spirits are invoked who possess the converts. Only the worst is, that the theory is that these mesmerised patients are hereby sanctified. It is only a sort of deification of psychic force."
"What do you think of this matter?" asked Hilbert of Posela.
"Psychic force," he replied, "is indeed a motive agency in the history of mankind. It is useless talking of liberty as long as weak men submit unquestioningly to the commands of other men of stronger wills than their own, even to their own injury. It is one of the marvels of this world, and one of the secrets of the possibility of the wretched government and misrule we see, that men so blindly submit to one another's will, and then talk of liberty."
As we had been just talking of spiritualism, I suggested a séance. I was not much of a believer in it, but I knew Hilbert professed to be a medium; and I thought at least, if there was anything in it, that this might be a way of solving the secret about my mysterious friend, without asking him questions. I rather thought he objected to the séance at first, but at length consented to join the circle. We half turned down the lights, and laid our hands on the table in the approved mode. In a few minutes Hilbert gave symptoms of drowsiness, and then appeared to be slightly convulsed, the usual symptom of what spiritualists call "being under control." A sheet of paper and a pencil had been laid on the table under a cover. "Take off that cover," said Hilbert. I did so, and on the paper was traced these word:—
"We cannot reveal anything to-night. There is one in the room whom we cannot understand, but who looks very different to us from what he does to you. Perhaps he knows more than we do."
Posela did not like this message. He rose from the table and remained nearly silent for most of the evening. Next morning he started for his American tour.