XXIX

XXIX

Teawas Brandon’s favorite beverage. And this afternoon it seemed to work a wonder upon him. It caused his veins to thrill and burn with an exhilaration he had never expected to feel again.

“I learn from our amazing friend,” said Dr. Thorp, pointing a finger at the tray, “that one of the most powerful deities of the astral world is in that teapot.”

“He seems,” said Brandon, “to have taken all imagination for his province.”

“He lives upon the theory, nothing is but thinking makes it so. He says if one can only grasp it truly, it covers all the phenomena in the universe.”

“In other words,” said Brandon with a smile, “you are not ashamed to sit at the feet of the prophet who has come into your midst.”

“I confess it. I confess it frankly and fully.” And the doctor laughed.

Brandon felt a thrill of delight. He was like a chemist who learns from a flame in his test tube that he has not deceived himself, and that his great discovery has received the sanction of science.

“Yes, his theories are wonderful,” said the doctor, perhaps in answer to the eager look on Brandon’s face. “Moreover, he has an extraordinary faculty of putting them into practice. Many little changes in the life here are due to him. They all make for greater harmony. Somehow, he oils the wheels of our intercourse. And there is one innovation you shall see for yourself if you care to do so.”

“There is nothing I should like so much.”

“It is one of his devices for keeping our best people amused and interested. He says ideas are the life of the soul, and that creative imagination is its highest function. And he has formed a sort of debating society, which meets every afternoon to discuss the problems of the present and the future.”

“Are your patients able to discuss them reasonably?”

“Not merely reasonably, I venture to say profoundly. We have some intellectuals here, men who have read and thought perhaps too much, whose brains have given out before their time. And then in all institutions of this kind there are queer, freakish intellects, capable of an intermittent brilliancy although unfit for the routine of practical life, while some of the old men whom we take care of in their declining years have been men of attainment in the heyday oftheir powers. I tell you all this, because what you are about to see will most probably astonish you. John Smith wields a marvelous regenerative influence in this institution, and I want you to see it at work.”

“I shall be delighted to do so.”

“Very well. But let us first find out whether the portents are favorable.” Thereupon with a smile Dr. Thorp rose and pressed the button of an electric bell three times.

Presently the summons was answered by no less a person than the head attendant, a tall, deliberate, very dour looking Scotsman.

“Boswell,” said Dr. Thorp, as it seemed to Brandon, with a twinkle in his eye, “is the Court sitting this afternoon?”

“Yes, sir,” said the head attendant with perfect gravity. “The Master took the chair at three o’clock.”

“What are they discussing?”

“Germany, sir.” The head attendant spoke with a slow solemnity which nearly provoked Brandon to a laugh. “Toujours l’Allemagne,” said the doctor. “Still the only question for the Court.”

“And likely to be for some little time yet, sir,” said Boswell impressively. “What they are now trying to arrive at is, can Germany be readmitted on any terms to the comity of nations?”

“But they were dealing with that question a month ago.”

“Well, sir, they are at it still. And I’m afraid they don’t get much forwarder.”

“Any good speeches this afternoon?”

“Two of the best we’ve had yet, sir. They seem to get better and better.”

At the note of enthusiasm in the voice of the head attendant, Dr. Thorp directed a glance, half pride, half amusement at his visitor.

“We had Abraham on his legs again, sir. He gave us a regular rasper.”

“For your information,” said the doctor to Brandon dryly, “Abraham is none other than Abraham Lincoln.”

“He didn’t half let Germany have it, sir.” The tone of the head attendant was curiously grim.

“How did Goethe take it?” asked the doctor with a chuckle.

“Like a lamb, sir. He just sat in the corner crying like a child.”

Dr. Thorp rose and took a pipe from the chimneypiece.

“The proceedings opened this afternoon, sir,” Boswell continued, “with a speech from Tolstoi. And very nice, too, sir; perhaps a little sloppy in places, butvery good in its way. I should like you to have heard it, sir.”

“I should like to have done so.” The doctor’s tone was half pride, half amused indulgence.

“Universal brotherhood was his ticket, sir. Rights of man. Nonresistance to evil and so on. Of course it doesn’t quite work out, but it was a very creditable effort, very creditable indeed—especially for an old man who can’t button his own collar.”

“Quite so,” said the doctor.

“And I think you’ll like to know, sir”—a note of pride entered the head attendant’s voice—“that we also had a speech from the brother who came here the other day from Broad Hill. It was his first attempt, and to my mind one of the best yet.”

“That’s interesting,” said the doctor, smiling at Brandon. “What’s his name, by the way?”

“The Master introduced him as Spinoza.”

“I hope he was well received.”

“He was, sir, and yet not altogether as you might say. Both Plato and Aristotle seemed inclined to criticize him, and they were dead set against his proposal that Germany should be more fully represented. Spinoza seemed to think that she was entitled to more friends than Goethe and himself and Beethoven.”

“I wonder, I wonder,” Brandon interposed in a soft, far-away voice.

“Spinoza thought that Luther, Kant and Leibnitz ought also to be allowed to speak for her.”

“But those names are not on the register.”

“Several of the brethren pointed that out, sir, but the Master said if the Court decided that Germany was entitled to call them, there would be no difficulty in causing them to appear.”

“Then I hope the Court decided in Spinoza’s favor,” said Dr. Thorp. “It will be interesting to see how the Master contrives to make good his promise.”

“When I left them, sir, they were arguing the question. But it will not surprise me if they decide against the proposal.”

“What reason have you for thinking so?” asked Brandon.

“It’s Plato’s opinion, sir,” said Boswell, very impressively, “that Germany, having betrayed her religion, and having perverted her science, neither Luther nor Leibnitz has anylocus standi, and as far as Kant is concerned he agrees with Aristotle that the Court has too many philosophers already.”

“And he carries great weight, I presume?” said Brandon.

“If Plato’s against the proposal, sir,” said the headattendant still very impressively, “they’ll rule it out, unless the Master himself intervenes.”

“Yes, and rightly,” said Dr. Thorp. “Before his mental breakdown, some years ago, he was a man of great parts, a professor of Greek at Cambridge, a beautiful speaker. Now that John Smith has taken him in hand we are delighted to think that his fine powers are being reawakened. When he is in his best form it is well worth anyone’s while to hear him. What is he like this afternoon, Boswell?”

“I’ve never heard him to better advantage, sir,” said the head attendant, with a slow and proud solemnity. “He’s quite a treat, especially to a man like myself, who all my life have made a hobby of philosophy.”

“Then let us go and hear what he has to say.”

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