n 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 of my labours as a teacher outwardly closed mine, and an
important goal in life lay before me. A cruel period of probation, rich
in suffering and deprivations, had made the once careless youth familiar
with the serious side of existence, and taught him to control himself.

After once recognizing that progress in the department of investigation
in which I intended to guide others demanded the devotion of all
my powers, I succeeded in silencing the ceaseless longing for fresh
creations of romance. The completion of a second long novel would have
imperilled the unity with myself which I was striving to attain, and
which had been represented to me by the noblest of my instructors as
my highest goal in life. So I remained steadfast, although the great
success of my first work rendered it very difficult. Temptations of
every kind, even in the form of brilliant offers from the most prominent
German publishers, assailed me, but I resisted, until at the end of half
a lifetime I could venture to say that I was approaching my goal, and
that it was now time to grant the muse what I had so long denied. Thus,
that portion of my nature which was probably originally the stronger was
permitted to have its life. During long days of suffering romance was
again a kind and powerful comforter.

Severe suffering had