Now
he no longer reflected and criticised. It seemed as if the doubting
spirit had been driven out of him and he was obeying eagerly,
confidently, and devoutly as a child a command which filled his whole
being with an overwhelming desire to press forward. This man, so proud
of his personality, who had always sought his happiness in the
unrestricted exercise of his individuality, now felt his ego shrivel
until it was imperceptible. He was only a tiny stone in a piece of
mosaic, which formed a noble masterpiece only as a whole. A mighty
power, call it a law of nature or the will, whose manifestation is the
history of the world, had entered into and taken complete possession of
him. It was not he who now directed his fate, it was decided by some
unknown being outside of him. Had he been the most remarkable human
being on earth, a Newton, a Goethe, nay, the Saviour Himself, he would
now have weighed no more in the balance than the nameless Brandenberg
farm-hand by his side, he would now have had in the mechanism of the
world only the value of a dozen screws or rivets.
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