"A few days later I was at a place which they call Oxford, and where dwell and teach many of their Sophists. A young man is there taught to assume that callous look which is very imposing to Hindoos and negroes. Nothing surprises him, as nothing stirs him, except the latest shape of a cuff or a collar. He becomes in due time a curious blend of a monk, a fop, and a pedant.
"I was led to one of the most renowned of their theologians, whose name in our language means a coachman. He received me with a curious smile. Before I could say anything he spoke as follows:
"'I understand, sir, that you pose as the late Socrates. Well, well—come, come! I must tell you in confidence that I, being a higher critic, am a perfect adept in the great science of the vanishing trick. Suppose you bring forward a famous personage of history, and want him to disappear. Nothing is easier to me. I ask the man first of all very simple questions, such as:
"'Who asked him to exist?
"'Why did he choose his mother in preference to many other able women?
"'What made him prefer his father to so many other capable men?
"'For what reason did he fix his particular place of birth, let alone the time of the year, month, week and day where and when he was born?
"'What motive had he in filling the air with his screamings soon after his birth?
"'Could he give any satisfactory explanation of his various illnesses as a child? That is, whether he had measles and whooping-cough out of malice prepense, out of cussedness, or out of any hopes of receiving more attention?