"
"You judge too hastily; that is not my opinion."
"Oh,--ah. Yes. Good-bye."
And our ways parted.
I did not like Goldschmidt. He had dared to profane the great Soeren
Kierkegaard, had pilloried him for the benefit of a second-rate public.
I disliked him on Kierkegaard's account. But I disliked him much more
actively on my master, Professor Broechner's account.
Broechner had an intense contempt for Goldschmidt; intellectually he
thought him of no weight, as a man he thought him conceited, and
consequently ridiculous. He had not the slightest perception of the
literary artist in him. The valuable and unusual qualities of his
descriptive talent he overlooked. But the ignorance Goldschmidt had
sometimes shown about philosophy, and the incapacity he had displayed
with regard to art, his change of political opinion, his sentimentality
as a wit, all the weaknesses that one Danish critic had mercilessly
dragged into the light, had inspired Broechner with the strongest
aversion to Goldschmidt. Add to this the personal collisions between the
two men. At some public meeting Broechner had gazed at Goldschmidt with
such an ironic smile that the latter had passionately called him to
account.
"Don't make a scene now!" replied Broechner.
"I am ready to make a scene anywhere," the answer is reported to have
been.
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