After a few remarks had been exchanged on the probable result of the evening’s events Herr Trübner turned to the subject of Johann’s address.
“What did you think of Johann Mark?” he asked. “Do you believe there is any good to be got out of King Maximilian?”
“Why not?” was the answer. “Why should not the King be as sincere as we are?”
“Because his interests are totally opposed to ours. We are republicans, aiming to overthrow royalty, and deprive him of his crown.”
“That does not make it impossible to sympathise with you. Kings have laid down their crowns before now of their own accord. Look at Charles the Fifth, and again at the Emperor Diocletian.”
“But they were men of mature years, worn out with labours, who sought for repose in their declining years,” objected Herr Trübner.
“Then what do you say to the example of Çakya-Muni, the Buddha, who forsook his palace and his wife and newly born son, to devote himself to the task of finding a cure for the misery of his fellow-men?”
“True, but he was animated by a religious impulse.”
“And is not Socialism also a religion?” returned Maximilian, his voice taking a more and more earnest tone, as though he perceived a grave importance underlying this strange debate. “Is every one who departs from the narrow line of selfish interest, under the influence of this new spirit of our times, to be branded as a hypocrite—or a madman?”
Herr Trübner darted a questioning glance at his companion, as he replied—