France -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
I recognized the Wood of old times again. We moved on perhaps a hundred
paces along the street chatting on indifferent subjects. Then suddenly
my companion put his hand quietly on my shoulder.
“My dear friend,” he began, “some of the things I said this evening
cannot have failed to surprise you. You would probably like me to
explain them.”
“I was intensely interested, my dear Wood, pray do.”
“I will do so willingly. I have the greatest admiration of your
character. We may not regard life from the same point of view. But you
are not one of those who repel an idea because it is new, and that is a
disposition sufficiently rare, in France especially.”
“I fancy, however, my dear Wood, that for liberty of thought——”
“Oh! no, you are not, like the English, a race of theologians. But
enough of that. I want to tell you in as few words as possible the
history of my convictions. When you knew me fifteen years ago I was the
correspondent of the London _World_. With us journalism is a more
lucrative profession, and is held in higher esteem than with you. My
appointment was a good one, and I fancy I reaped the greatest possible
advantages from it. I am familiar with business transactions, and I
carried through some very profitable ones, and in a few years I achieved
two very desirable things: influence and fortune. You are aware that I
am a practical man.
“I have never worked without a goal in view. And, above all things, I
aimed at attaining the supreme goal of life. Fairly exhaustive
theological studies undertaken in my youth had convinced me that that
goal lay outside the sphere of this terrestrial life. But I was yet in
doubt as to the practical means of attaining it. As a result, I suffered
cruelly. Uncertainty is absolutely insupportable to a man of my
temperament.
“In this state of mind I turned my attention seriously to the psychical
researches of Sir William Crookes, one of the most distinguished members
of our Royal Society. I knew him personally, and needed no assurance
that he was both a man of learning and a gentleman. He was at that time
giving his attention to the case of a young woman endowed with psychic
powers of an altogether uncommon nature, and, like Saul of old, he was
fortunate enough to evoke the presence of an indisputable disembodied
spirit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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