"I seem to myself to be playing a rather ridiculous part in this
scene," he said; "it is a parody of the Gospel story of the Temptation.
Unfortunately, I have not the smallest particle of ambition, and have
no desire to be either famous or mighty, or to make triumphal
progresses. If I could really do anything for you, believe me, I would
do it gladly. But I assure you I possess neither the philosopher's
stone, nor a prescription for a universal panacea. I do not believe
either that the remedies they recommend so highly to you are very
effectual, so I am much obliged to you for your confidence in me, and
beg you to leave me in my obscurity."
Hessel gave him a dark look, stood up, turned slowly away, and left him
without one word, or even offering him his hand.
Wilhelm had sent to Berlin for a box of books, and tried to go on with
his work, but found no real pleasure in it. A deep despondency had come
upon him, and the idea that his life was wholly purposeless took more
and more hold upon him. Often, after studying earnestly for a day or
two, and making extracts for his book, he would ask himself, "Why take
all this trouble? Who is going to be made wiser or happier by this
rigmarole?" and his pleasure in the work was gone again for days. The
consciousness of exile, instead of being blunted by time, weighed ever
more heavily upon him. He never realized till now what an absolute
necessity it was to his nature to lean upon a kindred spirit, for he
had never before been without one. Since the death of his father he had
first had Paul, and then Dr. Schrotter, whom he had seen daily, and
thus had always had some one to share his mental life. Now he was
separated from Schrotter by distance, and from Paul by the great change
in their views, and found no sufficient support when left to himself.
If at times the sight of Paul's perfect self-content and happiness
roused in him the wish to follow his example, it was quickly overruled
by the conviction that neither Paul's commonplace, practical
occupations, nor his worldly success, would afford him, Wilhelm, the
smallest satisfaction.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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