possible it is still--I should never have been so lonely in all my
dreary, lonely life.

What would Moritz's situation be, compared with that?--for he has a
child, a father, a sister, dear and intimate friends in the
neighborhood. I have no one within forty miles with whom I should be
tempted to talk more than that which politeness demands; only a
sister--but a happily married one with children is really one no
longer, at least for a brother who is single. For the first time I am
looking the possibility straight in the eyes that you might be taken
away from me, that I might be condemned to inhabit these empty rooms
without a prospect of your sharing them with me, with not a soul in
all the surrounding region who would not be as indifferent to me as
though I had never seen him. I should, indeed, not be so devoid to
comfort in myself as of old, but I should also have lost something
that I used not to know--a loving and beloved heart, and at the same
time be separated from all that which used to make life easy in
Pomerania through habit and friendship. A very egotistical line of
thought and way of looking at things this discloses, you will say.
Certainly, but Pain and Fear are egotists, and, in cases like that
referred to, I never think the deceased, but only the survivors, are
to be pitied. But who speaks of dying? All this because you have not
written for a week; and then I have the assurance to lecture you for
gloomy forebodings, etc.! If you had only not spoken of the deadly
fevers in your last letter. In the evening I am always excited, in the
loneliness, when I am not tired. Tomorrow, in bright daylight, in the
railway carriage, I shall perhaps grasp your possible situation with
greater confidence.

Be rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing instant in