ared to have my
own opinion of myself corroborated by a crowd of people whom I don't
know and therefore can't respect. But I'm indebted to the little city
for one thing which I thought superfluous in the capital, but have now
learned to prize because it enriches and strengthens my existence: I've
entered into the midst of a motley throng of human beings, and the
hundred-fold contact with an apparently thoughtless reality has
benefited not only the man, but the philosopher. You smile, you
arrogant metropolitan! You can't imagine, that one's view of the world
may become more comprehensive in the atmosphere of a little town. And
yet man is everywhere the same, and such a little town is a retort in
which I can most easily insulate the experiment that slipped through my
fingers in the great busy city. You would be surprised if I should give
you examples of the psychological results I've obtained from my active
and daily share in the interests of my worthy fellow citizens. What did
I know of the genius _homo sapiens_, when I lived in our tun and only
allowed a few chosen specimens to approach me? Only from the average
can pervading laws be discovered. But you'll find all this some day in
my book, if I ever write it. But I'll say this--that nothing external
more richly rewards the trouble, than, wherever we maybe or whatever
people we may be associated with, to honestly devote ourselves to them
and share with them the best we have. These worthy people who at first
eyed me curiously, because I was wanting in those things which usually
help to win popularity and neither visited their usual places of resort
nor joined in their games of skittles, any more than Leah attended
their coffee parties, now know, that despite all this, they have a very
good friend in me. Now and then, on public occasions, I have asked
permission to address them and found fresh confirmation of my old
opinion, that no one can guide a crowd so easily as one who stands on a
higher plane, if he has but the power of awakening the true manly
spirit which sleeps in the breast of the lowest boor. Afterwards they
have not unfrequently come to me as this spirit moved within them, but
failed to find courage in its own strength. They would have elected me
to the Chamber of Deputies, if I'd not positively forbidden it.
_Basta!_ You may think I imagine it a wonder to be Caesar in a village.
No, indeed, my dear fellow! Nay, I confess that it always costs me a
special effo
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