Amiel's Journal: The Journal Intime of Henri-Frédéric AmielAmiel, Henri Frédéric
Philosophy
Amiel's Journal: The Journal Intime of Henri-Frédéric Amiel
Amiel, Henri Frédéric
Amiel, Henri Frédéric, 1821-1881 -- Diaries; Authors, Swiss -- 19th century -- Diairies
pride has instinctively rebelled. I have never even tried to gain the
good will of a _côterìe_ or a newspaper, nor so much as the vote of
an elector. And yet it would have been a joy to me to be smiled upon,
loved, encouraged, welcomed, and to obtain what I was so ready to
give, kindness and good will. But to hunt down consideration and
reputation--to force the esteem of others--seemed to me an effort
unworthy of myself, almost a degradation. I have never even thought of
it.
Perhaps I have lost consideration by my indifference to it. Probably I
have disappointed public expectation by thus allowing an over-sensitive
and irritable consciousness to lead me into isolation and retreat. I
know that the world, which is only eager to silence you when you do
speak, is angry with your silence as soon as its own action has killed
in you the wish to speak. No doubt, to be silent with a perfectly clear
conscience a man must not hold a public office. I now indeed say to
myself that a professor is morally bound to justify his position by
publication; that students, authorities, and public are placed thereby
in a healthier relation toward him; that it is necessary for his good
repute in the world, and for the proper maintenance of his position. But
this point of view has not been a familiar one to me. I have endeavored
to give conscientious lectures, and I have discharged all the subsidiary
duties of my post to the best of my ability; but I have never been able
to bend myself to a struggle with hostile opinion, for all the while my
heart has been full of sadness and disappointment, and I have known
and felt that I have been systematically and deliberately isolated.
Premature despair and the deepest discouragement have been my constant
portion. Incapable of taking any interest in my talents for my own sake,
I let everything slip as soon as the hope of being loved for them and
by them had forsaken me. A hermit against my will, I have not even found
peace in solitude, because my inmost conscience has not been any better
satisfied than my heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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