always try to generalize matters, and for that reason science attracts
me more than philosophy. In my father's time philosophy embraced no
more nor less than the whole universe and all being; consequently
it had a ready answer for all questions. In our times it has become
rational in so far as to confess that it has ceased to exist in the
old meaning of the word and remains only as a philosophy of special
scientific branches. Truly, when I come to think of it it seems that
the human mind too has its tragedies, and it began by confessing its
own powerlessness. As I write a personal diary I will treat these
matters from a personal point of view. I am not a professed
philosopher, because I am nothing by profession; but as a thinking
being I am interested in the new philosophic movement; I have been
and am under its influence, and have a full right to speak about what
entered the composition, and contributed to the creation, of my moral
and intellectual being.

To begin with, I note down that my religious belief I carried still
intact with me from Metz did not withstand the study of natural
philosophy. It does not follow that I am an atheist. Oh, no! This was
good enough in former times, when he who did not believe in spirit,
said to himself, "Matter," and that settled for him the question.
Nowadays only provincial philosophers cling to that worn-out creed.
Philosophy of our times does not pronounce upon the matter; to all
such questions it says, "I do not know!" and that "I do not know"
sinks into and permeates the mind. Nowadays psychology occupies itself
with close analysis and researches of spiritual manifestations; but
when questioned upon the immortality of the soul it says the same,--"I
do not know;" and truly it does not know, and it cannot know. And now
it will be easier to describe the state of my mind. It all lies in
these words: I do not know. In this--in the acknowledged impotence