1883, Brno
I keep the papers in rank and sequence because rank and sequence are what remain mine. The abbey bells still sound with their old authority and I permit them that, but my own order is stricter. Accounts to the left, notes to the right, correspondence from Vienna where I can strike it quickly, old tables where my hand may still reach them before fatigue intrudes. The body delays, yes. The chest resists the stair, the fingers tremble after an hour, the breath shortens when it ought to obey. None of that alters the arrangement. Men notice weakness and begin at once inventing conclusions from it. Younger brothers lower their voices. Visitors soften their faces. They think concession in expression becomes truth in substance. It does not. I know what I found. I know what they failed to see. A discovery ignored is not a discovery undone. A man slowed is not a man superseded. If I do not set this down now, then they will take the ratios without the command that made them visible and call the theft modesty.
