ACCORDING TO PLATO By Frank Frankfort Moore Dodd, Mead & Company 1900 [Illustration: 0002] [Illustration: 0006] CHAPTER I No one who has not been bankrupt at least twice could afford to be so careful about his dress as Mr. Richmond is,” said Josephine. “He admits a solitary bankruptcy,” said Amber. “Bankruptcy is the official recognition of genius.” “It certainly is the shortest way to distinction,” said Josephine. “Bankruptcy’s a sort of English Legion of Honour, isn’t it?--a kind of _bourgeois_ decoration.” “To genius,” said Amber, with the nod of one who completes a quotation that some one else has begun. “Mr. Richmond is really very clever.” “Now you contradict yourself--a moment ago you said he was a genius--and being a genius is just the opposite to being clever,” laughed Josephine. “Is this your syllogism: Geniuses become bankrupt, Mr. Richmond becomes bankrupt, therefore he is a genius?” “Well, that wasn’t quite what was in my mind. I suppose that to have the Homeric attribute of nodding scarcely makes one a Homer?” “If it did there would be no need for people to learn Greek, But you must forgive me for distrusting your Mr. Richmond--no, I shouldn’t make use of so strong a word--I don’t distrust him. What I mean to say is that I am rarely convinced by a man who is so scrupulous about his coats. Genius--in man--is rarely found in association with silk linings where silk linings are not imperative.” “Now you are becoming commonplace, my dear Joe; you give one the idea that you cannot imagine genius without a darn. A darn--maybe a patch--and a soft hat have floated many a mediocrity upon the public under the name of a genius. But brains can work just as actively within the drum of a silk hat as within the bowl of a bowler.” “Just as a true heart may beat beneath a silk lining as fervently as under a moleskin waistcoat. Well, I’ll approach Mr. Richmond with an open mind. After all it’s only a universal genius who is a man that has failed in everything; and no man has yet hinted that Mr. Richmond is a universal genius. By the way, I heard of an adroit Irishman who got a great name as a poet solely by reason of his wearing an old cloak and turning up at awkward hours for dinner.” “Mr. Richmond is--well, perhaps I had better say, a bit of a genius.” “That sounds more companionable. I like the nodding of Homer--it makes him more human.” “If you wish I’ll withdraw the genius altogether and merely say that he is a man of ideas.” “I think I shall like him: a man of ideas is a man of ideals. I am nearly sure that I shall like him. There must be something good about a man who can be praised by his friends in _diminuendo_.” “In _diminuendo?_ Oh, I understand: yes, I began by calling him a man of genius and now I am perfectly satisfied to hear you say that you think you will like him. Well, that’s not a _crescendo_ of praise anyhow. Oh, really, he’s not half a bad sort of man when you come to know him.”