nk, and was cautioned as to the sin
of having ideas. The penalties were pointed out to Jean Paul, and in all
kindness he was asked to make choice between immediate punishment and
future silence.

Thus was the wee philosopher raised at once to the dignity of a martyr;
and the sweet satisfaction of being persecuted for what he believed, was
his.

The city of Edinburgh was not far away, and thither by night the victim
of persecution made his way. There is a serio-comic touch to this
incident that Marat was never quite able to appreciate--the man was not
a humorist. In fact, men headed for the noose, the block, or destined
for immortality by the assassin's dagger, very seldom are jokers--John
Brown and his like do not jest. Of all the emancipators of men, Lincoln
alone stands out as one who was perfectly sane. An ability to see the
ridiculous side of things marks the man of perfect balance.

The martyr type, whose blood is not only the seed of the church, but
also of heresy, is touched with madness. To get the thing done, Nature
sacrifices the man.

Arriving in Edinburgh, Marat thought it necessary for a time to live in
hiding, but finally he came out and was duly installed as barkeep at a
tavern, and a student in the medical department of the University of
Saint Andrews--a rather peculiar combination.

Marat's sister and biographer, Albertine, tells us that Jean Paul was
never given to the use of stimulants, and in fact, for the greater part
of his career, was a total abstainer. And the man who knows somewhat of
the eternal paradox of things can readily understand how this little
tapster, proud and defiant, had a supreme contempt for the patrons who
gulped down the stuff that he handed out over the bar. He dealt in that
for which he had no use; and the American bartender today who wears his
kohinoor and draws the pay of a bank cashier is one who "never touches a
drop of anything." The security with which he holds his position is on
that very account.

Marat was hungry for knowledge and thirsty for truth, and in his daily
life he was as abstemious as was Benjamin Franklin, whom he was to meet,
know, and reverence shortly afterward.

Jean Paul was studying medicine at the same place where Oliver
Goldsmith, another exile, studied some years before. Each got his
doctor's degree--just how we do not know. No one ever saw Goldsmith's
diploma--Doctor Johnson once hinted that it was an astral one--but
Marat's is still with