After the intermission one of Toker’s famous guests, the German physicist, delivered a brief address. He also produced a variation on the theme of the evening. He proved, even more clearly than the animated pictures could do, the manifold and hidden beauties of nature. He revealed the wonder-pictures that are discovered by the microscope to our astonished senses; the splendor of form of the Radiolaria, the symmetry of the thousand-faceted eyes of insects; the delicate traceries of mould and mosses invisible to the naked eye; the rich life in a drop of stagnant water—beauty everywhere.
But in order that the visible world may resolve into beauty, we must learn two things: to see and to enjoy. Could there possibly be splendor of color and grace of contour if all living beings were blind? And could what we see ever be felt as “beautiful” if the spectator remained without enjoyment? The evolution of organisms required a long time until the eye was formed; and a second long period stretched between the use of an organ of sense and the enjoyment that grew out of the use of it. How long it took for man to learn to enjoy the beauties of nature! In all ancient literatures no description of nature is to be found in tones of admiration. The ancient Greeks found delight in the grace of human bodies, in the noble lines of artistic buildings; but in their songs there is no trace of enthusiasm over a mountain landscape, or a seashore. Among our peasantry, living in the midst of the most magnificent nature, the majority are unmoved by beauty of scenery. The formation of the organs of sense must be followed by the exercise and the refining of the corresponding organs of the soul. Then only the soul may be raised to the inspiring mood which is called the enjoyment of beauty.
After the conclusion of the physicist’s address, Toker entered Franka’s box. “To-night, Miss Garlett, you must once more come into our circle, and you also, Mr. Helmer. This period of talk between ten o’clock and midnight is certainly the best and most productive recreation after the labors of the day. And you, Gwen, have you been happy in spending the whole evening in the company of your idol?—For you must know, Miss Garlett, that my daughter has conceived the most violent admiration for you—which I can perfectly understand.”
A little later the Rose-Knighthood had gathered in Toker’s salons. In spite of the brevity of their acquaintance, many warm friendships had sprung up among the famous guests of the house. And, indeed, there was no lack of interesting material for intercourse. The atmosphere was alive with ideas suggested by the preceding addresses and performances. “This is the week of wide perspectives,” one of the visitors pertinently remarked on one occasion.
Frequently distinguished personages invited by Toker from outside joined the house-company. This evening he had invited Prince Victor Adolph, among others, to spend the rest of the evening in the Rose-Palace, an invitation which the young man had accepted with alacrity in spite of Orell’s comment that it was a very mixed society: “Eccentric people. A revolutionary flavor. No milieu for Your Royal Highness.”
The night was very warm. When Prince Victor Adolph entered the suite of salons, many of the guests had taken refuge on the terrace to seek its refreshing coolness. Franka, for whom the prince was looking, had also disappeared from the salon. Toker stopped him as he was about to follow her.
“Fine, that you came, Your Highness. I should like to tell you something important.”
“Me?” His eyes wandered searchingly.
“Yes, you. There are things which will interest you and which you might be willing to take hold of and help. I regard you as a young man of high thoughts and ideals,”—the prince made a gesture of surprise,—“perhaps I am speaking too unceremoniously?”
“Not that—but what can you know about my mode of thought, Mr. Toker?”