Vienna IX, Berggasse 19
March 11, 1902

My dear Wilhelm

It just goes to show what an “Excellency” can do! It can even enable me to hear your familiar voice again in a letter. But since you associate the news with such wonderful things as recognition, outstanding achievements, etc., my habitual compulsion to be honest, which has so often done me harm, obliges me to tell you how it all came about.

It was all my own doing. On my return from Rome my zest for life and work had somewhat increased and that for martyrdom somewhat diminished. I found my practice considerably reduced, I withdrew my last publication from the printer because in you I had recently lost my last remaining audience.1 I came to the conclusion that I could easily spend the greater part of my life waiting for recognition and that in the meantime none of my fellow men would lift a finger on my behalf. And I so much wanted to see Rome