e, all-powerful Unknown."

"Rob them of their freedom? No government can rob me of my spiritual
freedom. Freedom rules continually in my mind, and no tyrant has the
power of subduing my thoughts."

"You make a great mistake there," said Dr. Schrotter gravely. "From
you, Dr. Wilhelm Eyuhardt, no gendarme certainly can take away your
freedom, because you are mature, and your opinions of things are
settled. But a tyrannical government can hinder your children from
succeeding to your freedom of mind. It can teach lies and superstitions
in the schools, and compel you to send your children there. It can set
an example of public morality which can demoralize a whole people. It
can draw up manifest examples of miserable intentions and conduct of
life, through whose imitation a people voluntarily mutilates itself or
commits suicide. No, no; it does not do to limit oneself to oneself,
and to struggle upward for one's individual spiritual freedom. One must
go out of oneself. What does it matter if one makes mistakes? It is
true, as you say, that no single individual knows the whole of truth;
but every individual possesss a fragment of it, and altogether we have
the whole. Look at India, there you have existing what we should become
if we all followed your philosophy, they live in their own spiritual
world, and are indifferent to any other, they endure first the
despotism of their own government, then a foreign conqueror, and
finally lose not only freedom and independence, but civilization, and
become not exactly slaves, but ignorant, superstitious barbarians."

"The German people will not get to that," said Wilhelm, smiling.

"Thank the men for that," cried Schrotter, "the men who think it their
duty to take part in the welfare of their country, and to exert
themselves for the spiritual freedom of others. An energetic sympathy
with public affairs is a form of love for one's neighbor. Say that
constantly to yourself, without letting yourself be deceived by the
hypocrite who handles politics as others do the Stock Exchange, merely
to make profit out of them."

While they talked they had arrived at Schrotter's house door. It was
nearly midnight, and had stopped raining, and all the houses except
Schrotter's were dark. Light shone from the two windows of his Indian
drawing room, and one of the curtains was drawn aside a little, leaving
a face clearly visible. It was Bhani, who was waiting patiently for
Schrotter's return, and gaz