acquainted myself with the current tone of the social gatherings in the field of books—I mean the literary papers and other journals—and I do not know whether they may be expected to take me in joke or in earnest. However this may be, it has at any rate not been my intention to joke, or to set in motion once more the wit which this age of ours is known to possess.
185. A custom that took deeper root among us and became almost second nature—so much so that not to observe it was almost unheard-of—was that the Germans regarded the introduction of any topic as an invitation to everyone who had a mouth to have his own say about it, quickly and on the spot, and to inform us whether he was of the same opinion or not; and when the vote had been taken in this way the whole thing was over, and public conversation felt bound to proceed with haste to another subject. In this way all literary discussion among the Germans transformed itself, like Echo in the ancient fable, into nothing but pure sound, without any body or bodily substance. We know how it is in the personal intercourse of third-rate society, and so it was in this literary fellowship; the only thing that mattered was that the human voice should go on sounding, and that each one should take up the ball of conversation and without a pause throw it to his neighbour; but what was said did not matter in the least. Now, if that is not being without character and un-German, what is? Nor has it been my intention to do homage to this custom and merely keep alive public discussion. I have long ago sufficiently performed my own share in this public conversation—though only incidentally, my purpose having been different—and I think I might at last be absolved from any further contribution. I do not want to know on the spot what A or B thinks about the questions
