For the
way upon which he had now entered was destined to develop more and
more all the greatness, but also all the narrow features, of his
nature, up to the limit of human possibility. The higher he rose above
others, the smaller their natures inevitably appeared to him. Almost
all whom in later years he measured by his own standard were far from
able to endure the test, and the dissatisfaction and disappointment
which he then experienced became again keener and more relentless
until he himself, from a solitary height, looked down with stony eyes
upon the doings of the men at his feet; but always, even to his last
hours, the piercing chill of his searching glance was broken by the
bright splendor of soft human feelings, and the fact that these were
left to him is what makes his great tragic figure so affecting.
During the first war, to be sure, he still looked back with longing to
the calm peace of his "Remusberg," and felt deeply the exaction of the
tremendous fate which had already involved him. "It is hard to bear
with equanimity this good and bad fortune," he writes; "one may appear
indifferent in success and unmoved in adversity, the features of the
face can be controlled; but the man, the inward man, the depths of the
heart, are affected none the less." And he concludes hopefully, "All
that I wish for myself is that success may not destroy in me the human
feelings and virtues, to which I have always clung. May my friends
find me as I have always been.
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