it in the midst of the
crowd, and am happier and more consistent, when away from the world.

"And now I am here leading a solitary life."

"Isn't it sad to be so lonely?" asked Irma.

"If I felt lonely, it would be very hard," replied Eberhard; "but man
should not feel lonely, though he be alone. _Ennui_ and loneliness have
no resting-place here. Men who are nothing to themselves are lonely
wherever they be; but let me continue my story.

"Gunther's defection caused me the greatest sorrow, but I was unjust
toward him. He always was a friend of court life and regarded it as the
culmination of culture. He was always too aesthetic and would often say:
'I, too, have a claim on the luxuries, the comforts, the pleasures of
life and am determined to have my share of them.' That led him to
court and caused him to desert free science and, at the same time, to
lose both himself and me.

"You have probably been told, and have perhaps even yourself thought,
that I am a misanthrope. He who hates mankind is a vain fool. In what
respect is he better than the rest, or different from them? I don't
hate mankind. I only know that most of them, either by their own
efforts or through those of others, appear in false colors. They affect
an interest in things that do not concern them and, in most instances,
do not even know that it is affectation. I have often been deceived and
cheated, but, I frankly confess, it was because I deceived myself. I
gave forth what was best in me, and imagined that others were with me,
but it was mere politeness that induced them to assent. They were not
hypocrites; it was I who deceived myself. I imagined myself in a world
in which all was peace and harmony, while, in fact, I was alone,
completely alone. Every one who has a character of his own, is alone.
There is no such thing as perfect accord; to live out one's self is all
that remains. But most men do not care to do this, and they are best
off. They live as custom and morals require, and do not greatly concern
themselves about the present or the past. They jump or dawdle as the
case may be from mood to mood, from enjoyment to enjoyment, and as long
as they can always see the same face when they look in the glass, are
perfectly content. Such faces never change. If the human countenance
always expressed the thoughts that fill the soul, you would not be able
to recognize any one from day to day, or even from hour to hour. I do
not know, my child, where I a