a deep impression on
his character, and many things about him would have appeared strange
and odd in a European. They amounted to sheer contradictions, but their
explanation was to be looked for in the environment of his life.
Physically he was still young, but his mind seemed very old, and had
that appearance of dwelling quietly apart which is the privilege of
wise minds who have done with life, and who look on at the close of the
comedy free from illusions. His eyes often flashed with enthusiasm, but
his speech was always gentle and quiet. In his relations with other men
he had the decided manner of one who was accustomed to command, and at
the same time the kindness of a patriarch for his children. He was a
moderate sceptic, nevertheless he combined with it a mysticism which a
superficial judge might have denounced as superstition. He believed,
for instance, that many persons had power over wild animals; that they
could raise themselves into the air; that they could interrupt the
duration of their lives for months, or even for years, and then resume
it again; that they could read the thoughts of others, and communicate
without help the speech of others over unlimited distances. All these
things he averred he had himself seen, and if people asked him how they
were possible, he answered simply, "I can no more explain these
phenomena than I can explain the law of gravitation, or the
transformation of a caterpillar into a moth. The first principles of
everything are inexplicable. The difference in our surroundings is only
that some things are frequently observed, and others only seldom."

His philosophy, which he had learned from the Brahmins, attracted
Wilhelm greatly; it made many things clear to him which he himself had
vaguely felt possible ever since he had learned to think. "The
phenomenon of things on this earth," said Dr. Schrotter, "is a riddle
which we try to read in vain. We are borne away by a flood, whose
source and whose mouth are equally hidden from us. It is of no avail
when we anxiously cry, 'Whence have we come, and whither are we going?'
The wisest course for us is to lie quietly by the banks and let
ourselves drift--the blue sky above us, and the breaking of the waves
beneath us. From time to time we come to some fragrant lotus-flower,
which we may gather." And when Wilhelm complained that the philosophy
of the world is so egoistic, Dr. Schrotter answered, "Egoism is a word.
It depends on what meanin