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I hope to be able some day to offer them the kind of hospitality they brought me so generously in both hands; lonely men, serving God and the British Empire, in that apparently God-forsaken outpost of the world. I liked the attitude they took toward my adventure. Their comments on "Henry P. Tobias, Jr." and the paper I had with me, were especially enlightening.
I missed the truly noble Tobias, the wisdom of Solomon and Jesus Sirach, all writings of such deeply spiritual value, that few others equal them. I expressed to Goethe my regret at the narrow exclusiveness thus manifested. He entirely agreed with me. "Still," said he, "there are two points of view from which Biblical subjects may be regarded.
Next, being commissioned by the family of the Martini to paint a chapel in S. Marco in Florence, he wrought in fresco on the walls many stories of the Madonna, and on the panel the Virgin herself in the midst of many saints; and in the same church, over the Chapel of S. Giovanni Evangelista, belonging to the family of the Landi, he painted in fresco an Angel Raphael with Tobias.
When we think of these attributions and then look at No. 154 in the Accademia another Tobias and the Angel, here given to Botticini we have a concrete object lesson in the perilous career that awaits the art expert,
But come a storm out of Stavanger, come a whistling under the eaves and a thumping of wind on the window pane and Tobias was off again. "He is not a good God!" Tobias would cry in his new "repentance." "His religion is too weak. The devil is stronger than Him. I want a stronger religion. Pagh, I want somebody big enough to kill this fanden inside me."
So our meeting broke up for the time being, and taking my candle, I went upstairs, to dream of caves overflowing with gold pieces, and John Tinker, fierce and moustachioed, standing over me, a cutlass between his teeth, and a revolver in each hand. The Narrative of Henry P. Tobias, Ex-Pirate, as Dictated on His Deathbed, in the Year of Our Lord, 1859.
The 20. day they cast vp their reckonings. The 21. they went to haue spoken with the Basha, but were denied audience. Batmans of silke. The 5. Tobias Atkins the gunners boy died of the fluxe, who was buried the 6. day 2. miles to the Southward of the Castle of Derbent, where the Armenian Christians do vsually bury their dead.
If there are any, and if it has to endure the threefold heat of which Father Tobias, of Silesia, related to me, I do not believe that the priests, for a few thalers, can loose the unhappy spirit from the bake-oven.
The butler had looked in several times to see whether he was free to clear away. For the first time Sir Tobias became aware of him pottering in the shadows. "Perhaps we'd better continue in my library." He pushed back his chair, dropped his napkin, groped after it feebly, then led the way solemnly across the hall.
"It don't become me," said Captain Cai, and, speaking under stress of desperation, he found himself of a sudden wondering at his own fluency. "It don't become me to repeat all the sentiments which, er, emanated." "Give me some," growled Captain Tobias, and was heard to add, under stertorous breath "Testimonial? I'd like to ha' seen my lot try it on me!"
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