ct him, glasses in hand, an honorary
member of our Society; we will drink to our brotherhood, and I will
pour a libation before his picture, and bedew with a few glittering
drops my own varnished Parisian boots into the bargain."

The friends took their filled glasses in hand to carry out Vincenz's
suggestion.

"Stop!" cried Theodore. "Let me say a word or two first. To begin with,
I hope you will by no means apply that psychical problem of mine (which
I perhaps stated somewhat too forcibly) directly to our author here.
Rather take it that my object was to show you very vividly and
convincingly how dangerous it is to form conclusions about phenomena in
a man of which we know nothing as to their deep psychic origin; nay,
how heartless, as well as senseless, it is to persecute, with silly
scorn and childish derision, one who has been the victim of a
depressing influence, such as we ourselves would probably have resisted
less successfully. Who shall cast the first stone at one who has grown
defenceless because his strength has ebbed away with the heart's-blood
flowing from wounds inflicted by his own self-deception? My end is
gained now. Even you--Lothair, Ottmar, Vincenz, severe inflexible
critics and judges, have quite altered your opinions now that you have
seen my poet face to face. His face speaks truth. I must testify that,
in the happy days when he and I were friends, he was the most
delightful and charming of men in every relation of life. All the
oddities, and strange eccentricities of his exterior, and of his whole
being (which he himself, with delicate irony, tried to bring to light,
rather than to conceal) only produced the effect of rendering him, in
the most various surroundings and most diverse circumstances, always in
the most attractive manner, utterly delightful. Moreover, he was full
of a subtle humour which rendered him the worthy _confrere_ of Hamann,
Heppel, and Scheffner. It is impossible that all that blossom of
promise can be withered and dead, blighted by the poison breath of a
miserable infatuation. No! If that picture could come to life--if the
poet were to walk in and sit down actually amongst us here, life and
genius would coruscate out of his discourse as of yore. I fain would
hope that I see the dawn of a new and brilliant day! May the rays of
true wisdom break out more and more brightly; may recovered strength
and renewed power of labour produce work which shall show us the poet
in the pu