the
practices which had such a fascination for me, the more intensely I
was secretly drawn toward them. The tug at my soul was at last almost
unbearable. It was then I looked toward Chichester, and resolved to take
him into my confidence--to a certain extent.

"I approached the matter craftily. I dwelt first upon the great spread
of infidelity in our days, and the necessity of combating it by every
legitimate means. I spoke of the efforts being made by earnest men of
science--such men as Professor Stepton, for instance--to get at the truth
Christians are expected to take on trust, as it were. I said I respected
such men. Chichester agreed,--when did he not agree with me at that
time?--but remarked that he could not help pitying them for ignoring
revelation and striving to obtain by difficult means what all Christians
already possessed by a glorious and final deed of gift.

"I saw that though Chichester was such a devoted worshiper of mine, if I
wanted to persuade him to my secret purpose,--no other than the effort,
to be made with him, to communicate with the spirit world,--I must be
deceptive, I must mask my purpose with another.

"I did so. I turned his attention to the subject of the human will. Now,
at that time Chichester knew that his will was weak. He considered that
fact one of his serious faults. I hinted that I agreed with him. I
proposed to join with him in striving to strengthen it. He envied my
strength of will. He looked up to me, worshiped me almost, because of it.
I drew his mind to the close consideration of influence. I gave him two
or three curious works that I possessed on this subject. In one of them,
a pamphlet written by a Hindu who had been partly educated at Oxford,
and whom I had personally known when I was an undergraduate, there was a
course of will-exercises, much as in certain books on body-building there
are courses of physical exercises. I related to Chichester some of the
extraordinary and deeply interesting conversations I had had with this
Hindu on the subject of the education of the will, and finally I told a
lie. I told Chichester that I had gained my powerful will while at Oxford
by drawing it from my Hindu friend in a series of sittings that we two
had secretly undertaken together. This was false, because I had been born
with a strong, even a tyrannical, will, and I had never sat with the
Hindu.

"Chichester, though at first startled, was fascinated by this untruth,
and, to cut