THE WORLD'S GREATEST PRISONER In an apartment in Cadogan Gardens sits a Persian sage, Abdul Baha, whose recent advent in London marks the latest link between the East and West. (16:3) The teachings of Abdul Baha have already brought about a community of thought between the Orient and the Occident. Upon the basis of mutual help and friendship the people have joined hands with an earnestness and brotherly love contrary to the theories of certain cynical poets and philosophers. (16:4) In his reception room one found a constantly augmented group representing many languages and nationalities. There were turbaned people from the East, a member of the English House of Lords, smartly dressed women from the continent, two tramps, who, having read of Abdul Baha in the papers, sought his presence; an arch-deacon of the Church of England, and several Americans. (16:5) Abdul Baha entered. With one impulse we arose, paying unconscious homage to the majesty of the station of servitude. Surely there can be no greater station than this! Instantly one felt an intangible something that stamped him as one apart. Try as one would it could not be defined. All that was tangible was the dome-like head with its patriarchal beard and eyes that suggested eternity. After greeting us he waved us to our seats and inquired if there were any questions we would like to ask. When informed that my editor had sent me to ascertain if he would speak of his prison life, Abdul Baha began at once to tell his story in a simple, impersonal way:
(16:6)
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