The Shadow of Great Britain

Believe that the light of truth behind the clouds and dust will eventually shine through and will smile as it disperses them. Twenty-seven years ago, I once said this to Ohm, and today, I wish to say it again to my friend Mr. Charles Darwin.

——Arthur Hastings

Dear Father:

By the time you read this letter, I will have boarded the carriage to Gottingen. To be honest, I do not know what the outcome of this journey will be, nor do I know whether I will succeed on the academic road of Natural Philosophy. However, after years of darkness, I intend to give it my all.

As a researcher in Natural Philosophy, Martin and I are unlike other researchers who have prestigious backgrounds. Our names do not include the 'Von', nor have we inherited large estates and livestock. But the poverty of our family has not affected your wish to provide Martin and me with the best education possible.

Since Mother passed away early, you had to work during the day to support the family and take care of us kids at night. However, even with such burdens, you never seemed troubled by fate and cheerfully shared the scientific stories you taught yourself with us before bed each night.

You told us stories of Newton, Priestley, Euler, Laplace, and Herschel, and it was through your words that I discovered the wonders of Natural Philosophy. You taught us those troublesome mathematical formulas, those magical physical phenomena. And when we grew older, you felt you could no longer guide us further, so you used your life savings to send Martin and me to university with gritted teeth.

Pray tell, which locksmith's son would attend university in Erlangen?

Only you, only the sons of Locksmith Joan Ohm are university students.

Your virtues and character are the pride of all Erlangen; no one calls you the locksmith from the east of town anymore. Nowadays, everyone introduces you as: "This is the father of Dr. George Ohm and Dr. Martin Ohm—the respected Mr. Joan Ohm."

In fact, I shouldn't be saying these things today. You know that your son is not one for being melodramatic.

I'm writing this letter today to say I'm sorry.

Compared to my brother Martin, as your eldest son, I have let you down. Although both of us attended Erlangen University, Martin went on to obtain a doctorate at Berlin University and successfully stayed to become a math professor, whereas I have not been as worry-free as Martin for you.

When I first entered Erlangen University, I was immediately dazzled by the world of the university, diverting all my energy to dancing, skating, and billiards. Because of this, I even dropped out for a time. I still remember your expression when you took me home; it was the first time in my life I saw you so angry.

All the way home, I kept my head down so as not to meet your gaze. After we arrived home, you bought two bottles of wine, and the two of us sat at the table drinking in silence. Afterwards, you got up and sent me to Switzerland. Before departure, you threw my luggage on the carriage and said, "George, you have disappointed both me and your deceased mother."

I got a job as a math teacher at a small school in Gottstatt, Switzerland. Seeing the eagerness for knowledge in the eyes of the children in my class, it reminded me of the nights from my childhood when you told us stories of Natural Philosophy. Only then did I finally realize what was most important to me.

I longed to return to the university classroom, to that sea of knowledge that was once within easy reach. I contacted Professor Von Langendorff from Erlangen University, hoping he would allow me to follow him to continue my studies at Heidelberg University. But Von Langendorff told me that Heidelberg University might not be willing to admit a student who had dropped out from Erlangen University, so he suggested I teach while continuing to study mathematics on my own.

Despite my discontent, I knew deep down that Professor Von Langendorff was right. Because I made a mistake, I must also bear the consequences. I stayed in Switzerland for five years; during these years, I taught in the daytime and conducted research in Natural Philosophy at night, and only then did I understand the hardships you had endured.

Five years later, I returned to Erlangen University with my dissertation "On Light and Colors" and earned my doctorate degree with it.

Subsequently, I passed the Bavarian national exam, obtained government-recognized professorship qualifications, and was allowed to teach mathematics for three semesters at Erlangen University as a private lecturer.

However, the mistakes I made in my youth continued to affect me. Perhaps due to my previous poor experiences, I have never been able to obtain a formal professorship at Erlangen University, and therefore cannot receive government academic grants and salaries.

When you learned about my poor financial situation back then, you offered to support me. But as you know, you are a stalwart German man, and so is your son. I could not accept your help because you've already worked hard for most of your life, and I cannot allow your later years to become unhappier because of me.

So, I voluntarily left Erlangen and moved through various states in Germany. First in Bamberg, then to Cologne, and finally, like Martin, to Berlin. However, although we were both in Berlin, Martin taught at the university, while I taught in a high school.