hree
volumes of my large manuscript were received by him in a way that
warranted the worst fears. He even asked how I, whom he had believed to
be a serious worker, had been tempted into such "side issues."

This was easy to explain, and when he had heard me to the end he said: "I
might have thought of that. You sometimes need a cup of Lethe water. But
now let such things alone, and don't compromise your reputation as a
scientist by such extravagances."

Yet he kept the manuscript and promised to look at the curiosity.

He did more. He read it through to the last letter, and when, a fortnight
later; he asked me at his house to remain after the others had left, he
looked pleased, and confessed that he had found something entirely
different from what he expected. The book was a scholarly work, and also
a fascinating romance.

Then he expressed some doubts concerning the space I had devoted to the
Egyptians in my first arrangement. Their nature was too reserved and
typical to hold the interest of the unscientific reader. According to his
view, I should do well to limit to Egyptian soil what I had gained by
investigation, and to make Grecian life, which was familiar to us moderns
as the foundation of our aesthetic perceptions, more prominent. The
advice was good, and, keeping it in view, I began to subject the whole
romance to a thorough revision.

Before going to Wildbad in the summer of 1863 I had a serious
conversation with my teacher and friend. Hitherto, he said, he had
avoided any discussion of my future; but now that I was so decidedly
convalescing, he must tell me that even the most industrious work as a
"private scholar," as people termed it, would not satisfy me. I was
fitted for an academic career, and he advised me to keep it in view. As I
had already thought of this myself, I eagerly assented, and my mother was
delighted with my resolution.

How we met in Wildbad my never-to-be-forgotten friend the Stuttgart
publisher, Eduard von Hallberger; how he laid hands upon my Egyptian
Princess; and how the fate of this book and its author led through joy
and sorrow, pleasure and pain, I hope, ere my last hour strikes, to
communicate to my family and the friends my life and writings have
gained.

When I left Berlin, so far recovered that I could again move freely, I
was a mature man. The period of development lay behind me. Though the
education of an aspiring man ends only with his last breath, the
commencement o