"Theodore's illness," said Lothair, "which nearly sent him to his grave, was not a matter, either, calculated to put me into a happy state of mind." "No," said Ottmar, "but Theodore is well again; and as to the Serapion Club, I cannot see why it should not be considered to be in full working order, now that three of the Brethren are met together." "Ottmar is perfectly right," said Theodore; "it is a matter of indisputable necessity that we should have a meeting, in true Serapiontic fashion, as early as possible. The germ which we form will sprout into a tree full of fresh life and vigour, bearing flowers and fruit--I mean that that bird of passage, Cyprian, will come back: Sylvester will soon be unhappy, there where he is, away; and when the nightingales cease singing, he will long for music of another kind; and Vincent will emerge from the billows again, no doubt, and chirp his little song." "Have it your own way," said Lothair, rather more gently than before; "only don't expect _me_ to have anything to do with it. However, I promise that I will be present when you assemble Serapiontically; and, as Theodore ought to be in the open air as much as possible, I suggest that we hold our meeting out of doors." So they fixed upon the last day of May--which was only a few days off--for the time; and on a pretty public-garden in the neighbourhood, not too much frequented, for the place, of their next Serapiontic meeting. A thunderstorm, passing quickly over, and merely sprinkling the trees and bushes with a few drops of Heaven's balsam, had relieved the sultry oppressiveness of the day. The beautiful garden was lying all still, in the most exquisite brightness. The delicious perfume of leaves and flowers streamed through it, while the birds, twittering and trilling in happiness, went rustling amongst the branches, and bathed themselves in the bedewed leafage. "How refreshed I feel, through and through!" Theodore cried, when the friends had sate themselves down in the shade of some thickly-foliaged lime-trees; "every trace of illness, down to the most infinitesimal, has left me. I feel as if a redoubled life had dawned on me, in my active consciousness of reciprocity of action between me and the external. A man must have been as ill as I have been to be capable of this sensation, which, strengthening mind and body, must surely be (as I feel it to be) the true life-elixir which the Eternal Power, the ruling World-spirit, administers to us, directly and without intermediation. The vivifying breath of Nature is breathing out of my own breast. I seem to be floating in that glorious blue Heaven which is vaulted over us, with every burden lifted away from me!"