F. Max Müller

What are you to do when you are sent away byyour doctor for three or four weeks of perfect rest?You are made to promise that you will lie perfectlyfallow, take no books and allow no proofsheets toreach you. A very eminent German professor, thelate Dr. Neander, the famous Church historian,solved the difficulty in his own way. He hadfaithfully promised his physician that he wouldtake no books with him to Karlsbad, but had at last,as a great favour, obtained permission to take atleast one work with him on his journey. On themorning of his departure the doctor wished to saygood-bye to his patient, and calling at his door sawa cart laden with heavy folios. “But, dear professor,”he said, with considerable surprise anddispleasure, “you had promised me to take nobooks with you.” “Yes, doctor,” the professor replied,“but you allowed me one work, so I thoughtI might take the Fathers with me to Karlsbad.” Imight have done the same, if I had taken the “RigVeda” only, or the Sacred Books of the East withvime, but my conscience would not allow it, so that Ifound myself in small lodgings at an English wateringplace with nothing to do all day long butto answer a number of accumulated letters and toread The Times, which always follows me. Whatwas I to do? Doctors ought to know that to aman accustomed to work enforced rest is quite asirritating and depressing as travaux forcés. Inself-defence I at last hit on a very simple expedient.I began to write what could be written without asingle book, and taking paper, pen and ink—theseI had never forsworn—I jotted down some recollectionsof former years. The fancy took me, andI said with Goethe:—

and after a day or two I was so absorbed in mywork, if work it could be called, that I said againwith Goethe:—