I had not left off my daily work in Paris, but had read industriously
at the Imperial Library. I had also attended many lectures, some
occasionally, others regularly, such as those of Janet, Caro, Lévêque
and Taine.
Of all contemporary French writers, I was fondest of Taine. I had begun
studying this historian and thinker in Copenhagen. The first book of
his that I read was _The French Philosophers of the Nineteenth
Century_, in a copy that had been lent to me by Gabriel Sibbern. The
book entranced me, and I determined to read every word that I could get
hold of by the same author. In the Imperial Library in Paris I read
first of all _The History of English Literature_, of which I had
hitherto only been acquainted with a few fragments, which had appeared
in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_. Taine was to me an antidote to German
abstraction and German pedantry. Through him I found the way to my own
inmost nature, which my Dano-German University education had covered
over.
Shortly after my arrival in Paris, therefore, I had written to Taine
and begged for an interview. By a singular piece of ill-luck his reply
to me was lost, and it was only at the very end of my stay that I
received a second invitation to go to him. Although this one
conversation could not be of any vast importance to me, it was
nevertheless the first personal link between me and the man who was and
remained my greatly loved master and deliverer, even though I
mistrusted his essential teachings. I was afraid that I had created a
bad impression, as I had wasted the time raising objections; but Taine
knew human nature well enough to perceive the personality behind the
clumsy form and the admiration behind the criticism. In reality, I was
filled with passionate gratitude towards Taine, and this feeling
remained unaltered until his latest hour.
During this my first stay in Paris I added the impression of Taine's
personality to the wealth of impressions that I took back with me from
Paris to Copenhagen.