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Vienna, October 2, 1910
IX., Berggasse 19
Dear friend,
Your letter has reminded me of the fact that I am the same person who picked papyrus in Syracuse, fought with the railway personnel in Naples, and bought antiquities in Rome. My identity has been restored. It is strange how easily one succumbs to an inclination to isolate the formations of personality.
You will believe me when I say that I think back about your company on the trip only with warm and pleasant feelings, although I often felt sorry for you because of your disappointment, and I would like to have had you different in some respects. Disappointment because you certainly expected to wallow in constant intellectual stimulation, whereas nothing is more repugnant to me than posing, and I then often let myself go in the opposite direction. So I was probably mostly quite an ordinary old gentleman, and you, in astonishment, realized the distance from your fantasy ideal. On the other hand, I would have wished for you to tear yourself away from the infantile role and take your place next to me as a companion with equal rights, which you did not succeed in doing; and further, in practical perspective, I would have wished that you had carried out more reliably your part of the task, the orientation in space and temporality. But you were inhibited and dreamy. So much for my educational efforts.
The following has happened here: everything well at home. Martin, since yesterday, a trim soldier.1 After putting my letters, books, mailings, etc. in order, I came across a lecture by Putnam of July 21 in the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal which seemed to me so excellent and well suited to be an apology for ΨA that I wrote him that I wanted to translate it for the Zentralblatt, with his permission. The translation has been completed in the meantime and took up my vacation days.2 My reading of Schreber3 was interrupted in so doing but will resume today.
Hitschmann is out,4 Pfister done.5 A manuscript by Graf, Richard Wagner