"Oh, if you were beheaded," cried Rangely, "you'd turn into a capital beer fountain, so your friends would find some consolation, even in your loss." A diversion was caused here by the production of a splendid Japanese punch-bowl, supported upon a teakwood stand. In it the host proceeded to brew a potent and steaming mixture, whose fragrance must have delighted the jocund gods of jollity and laughter. Tom was notorious for being chronically in pecuniary difficulties, but he was always adding to his collection of _bibelots_, and he never was known to lack the means of concocting a glorious punch. "Ye gods!" exclaimed Ainsworth, "how good that smells. It almost overcomes the general mustiness of Tom's den here, which usually has all the odors of the Ghetto from which his things are dragged." "Casper is intoxicated already with the mere fumes," retorted Bently good humoredly. "He's bound to fill a drunkard's grave sooner or later." "No; I never shall," chuckled the other. "I'm altogether too good natured to crowd the drunkard out." This sally was received with applause, and the glasses being filled, the usual toasts to the goddess Pasht and to art were drank. "And to our seven," went on Herman, holding up his glass, and going on with the formula they had, half unconsciously, fallen into the habit of using, although they made no pretense of having a ritual. But he set his glass down untasted, suddenly remembering that their ranks were broken, and the others followed his example. "The difference between religion and art," broke out Rangely, hurriedly, to cover the awkward silence which followed, "is that religion is a matter of tradition, of convention; it rests upon authority, while art springs from inner conviction." "Sophistry," retorted the German, picking up the gauntlet; "there have been a good many things said here to-night which sound well but won't stand fire. It is precisely for following conventions in art that we blame Fenton." "And that proves my point." "No, it doesn't; there's as much art that depends upon tradition as there is religion." "No," replied Rangely. "In so far as art gets its inspiration from fossil tradition it is lifeless and indeed ceases to be art. Religion presupposes something exterior; while art is the outgrowth of the individual's own mind, the best expression of his inner strength." "Religion," Herman threw in, "demands the existence of the unknown; art only the existence of the inexpressible." "Yet art devotes itself to expression." "Yes, but more to suggesting. It phrases the possible so as to suggest that which is above and beyond expression, yet toward which it helps the emotions and the imagination. I think a man's soul a matter of very little moment as compared to his imagination, and it is because art ministers to the latter that I place it above religion."