From the books of his religion Oman extracted much food for thought, on which he dwelt during the hours of meditation. From the very first, these periods of silence had been pregnant. In them, now, he found answers to his infinite, unasked questions. They, first of all, had awakened him to the import of the days. Perhaps, since Gautama’s first conceptions of his great creed, there had been no proselyte so apt for the faith as this poor, bewildered subject of a pitiless judgment. Within Oman’s body two natures, both human, both filled with direst cravings of humanity, had long struggled for supremacy. Now he had been removed from the old life, where he beheld sense worshipped on every side, and found himself in a community which taught, as an inviolable law, the renunciation of all sense gratification as the only road to happiness. A sudden austerity, born of the brain, began to work in Oman’s heart. Self-denial and abnegation became a passion with him. It was with deep delight that he graved upon his mind such verses as these: “That middle path of knowledge which the Tathagata has gained, which leads to wisdom and conduces to calm, is the holy eightfold path: right belief, right aspiration, right speech, right conduct, right means of livelihood, right endeavor, right memory, right meditation. This is the path that conduces to Nirvâna.” “And this is the noble truth of suffering: birth is suffering, decay is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering. Presence of objects we hate, separation from objects we love, not to obtain what we desire—all these are suffering. Briefly, the clinging to existence is suffering.” “Now hear the truth of the cessation of suffering: it will cease with the cessation of thirst—a cessation which consists in the abandonment of every passion. With deliverance from this thirst comes the destruction of desire, the cessation of suffering.” This was the subject on which, in his hours of contemplation, Oman insistently dwelt. In his heart he knew that here lay his help; and he felt it no wrong that he clung to one topic, disregarding many of the others prescribed. The process of enforced and long-continued meditation is a curious thing, and productive of strange results. Thought is hardly governable, as volatile as a gas; and to keep it fixed for any length of time upon a single point, requires a power difficult of attainment. When it is gained, however, and then persistently made use of, the character of the thinker is sure to change in one of several ways; and it is axiomatic that, in a meditative community, the individuals are never quite normal.