Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 3, 2025
Man's conscious memory comes to an end at death, but the unconscious memory of Nature is true and ineradicable: whoever succeeds in stamping upon her the impress of his work, she will remember him to the end of time. Introduction to a translation of the chapter upon instinct in Von Hartmann's "Philosophy of the Unconscious."
"You are Oscar Seltz, from London?" he asked, bluntly. The man appeared greatly taken back. "Yes," he said, haltingly. "I wish to see Dr. Hartmann." "About the snuff box, of course?" Again the man started. "Who are you?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. "I am Dr. Hartmann's assistant. He has been waiting for you. You have the box with you, of course?"
In particular, I have been told by Kant's old friends, that for the space of more than thirty years, during which he had been in the habit of reading the newspaper published by Hartung, Lampe delivered it with the same identical blunder on every day of publication. 'Mr. Professor, here is Hartmann's journal. Upon which Kant would reply 'Eh! what? What's that you say? Hartmann's journal?
What the purpose of the beam of light was; why it thus focused upon his upturned face, he could not guess. He thought about it for many minutes, his eyes closed, his head straining restlessly toward the soft outer darkness. Presently there flashed into his mind Dr. Hartmann's words at their last meeting: "While I know how to cure mental disorders, I also know how to create them."
It was not until they had reached the railway station that Richard Duvall roused himself from the stupor in which he had sat ever since he and his wife had driven away from Dr. Hartmann's. When their baggage had been deposited on the platform, under the care of a solicitous porter, and the cabman had been paid and gone his way, Grace asked her husband concerning their destination.
Von Hartmann's indignation at this fresh attack upon him was so great that he became speechless for a minute from rage, and could only glare and shake his fists, while he struggled in her embrace. When he at last regained his utterance, he indulged in such a bellow of passion that the young lady dropped back, petrified with fear, into an armchair.
How strange it seemed to realize that she, his wife, lay somewhere under the same roof with him possibly even in the very next room! But thirty-six hours had passed since their wedding and their sudden and unexpected parting. During that time, he had seen Grace but twice, once, at Hartmann's office, in the morning; the second time, at the Minister's that night.
He also possessed an unusually musical voice. Gallait said that he first thought German a language pleasing to the ear when he heard it from Hartmann's lips. These qualities soon won the heart of Frau Puricelli, who had at first been very averse to making his acquaintance. The devout, conservative lady had heard enough of his religious and political views to consider him detestable.
"I would suggest, mademoiselle, that you return at once, and make use of this as I have directed. If anything further occurs, send word by the delivery boy to-night." He bowed, and walked rapidly down the street. Grace sadly ordered the cabman to return to Dr. Hartmann's, and then sat back, her mind torn by conflicting emotions. The whole thing seemed inexplicably mysterious and confusing.
If he made any attempt to recover the box, would his doing so not show his captors at once that they had overlooked the hat a chance, indeed, in a thousand? The first move he might make toward the room under the laboratory, would arouse Hartmann's suspicions, a search would be made and the hat and its precious contents discovered. Certainly he was tied hand and foot.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking