By this alone we are, and still shall be.
O joy! the Phantom of the Uncondition’d
Fades into nothingness before the breath
Of that eternal ever-effluent Life
Whose centre is the shining solar Heart
Of countless throbbing pulses, each a world!
The quotation was delivered with extraordinary rapidity, and in the offhand matter-of-fact manner characteristic of the speaker. Then, after pausing a moment, and fixing his glass again, the Professor demanded eagerly: ‘What do you think of that, sir?’
‘I think,’ answered Bradley, laughing contemptuously, ‘that it is very poor science, and still poorer poetry.’
‘You think so, really?’ cried the Professor, not in the least disconcerted. ‘I think I could convince you by a few ordinary manifestations, that it’s at any rate common sense.’
It was now quite clear to Bradley that the man was a charlatan, and he was in no mood to listen to spiritualistic jargon. What both amused and puzzled him was that two such men as his American correspondents should have franked the Professor to decent society by letters of introduction. He reflected, however, that from time immemorial men of genius, eager for glimpses of a better life and a serener state of things, had been led ‘by the nose,’ like Faust, by charlatans. Now, Bradley, though an amiable man, had a very ominous frown when he was displeased; and just now his brow came down, and his eyes looked out of positive caverns, as he said: