The philosopher smiled wryly, a little sheepishly.
"Sages in the mountains, eh? Yes, I'll admit having sought them. But they do not seem to want me to find them, and I am going back to the library to follow some leads that I have thought up for myself.
"I do not care to let my mind abdicate its high position," he concluded, with a slight sneer.
"Goodbye, then. I wish you well."
"And so do I wish you," rejoined the philosopher, with an attempt at mocking irony, as he arose. "Goodbye, my friend."
He began briskly down the path, stopped, and called back, "I hear that there is an island rising, in the Pacific: maybe you can find some wise mermaids out there!"
He laughed maliciously, and strode quickly out of sight.
And so the abused budding mystic was left alone, as he desired it.
"Goethe was right," he thought to himself; "men are all too predominantly wont to scorn what they do not understand. Goethe himself illustrated the tendency very well.