wrong in
dreading my own soliloquies. Why, even considering these leaves as a
legacy, should they only contain sorrow? Did I not leave home, where I
was tied down by a hundred fetters with the full determination for
once, to enjoy life and liberty? And shall I now bear witness against
myself that I am unworthy of that freedom?

Certainly it will be but a brief enjoyment, but all the more firmly
will I grasp it and not embitter it by weakness and absorbing
self-pity.

The landlady told me that this morning a burgher of Meran, who had
never suffered from illness in his life, had died suddenly in his
prime. They had all expected that he would attain to a good old age,
and, probably, he had thought so himself. Comparing my fate with his,
is not mine preferable? Probably, like the generality of men, he had
spent his days in toil and labour, looking forward to a time when
having earned a sufficiency, he would be able to rest, and enjoy the
remainder of his life. His end was unexpected, whilst I know mine. And
is not this difference all in my favour? Is not spring yet distant, and
should I so fully enjoy this reprieve, were its short duration
concealed from me? Oh, truly it is a blessing not to be overtaken, and
surprised by death; to watch his slow approach, and only then, face to
face with him, learn to live. I can never sufficiently express my
thanks to our doctor, my dear fatherly friend, for not keeping the
truth from me--thus has he fully redeemed the promise he gave to my
dying mother, always to stand by me as a friend.

The night has now set in. I can hardly see what I write. In my whole
life, I have never felt so thoroughly at peace as here, in this
beautiful forecourt to the grave.--Father! that I could but waft one
breath of it to your depressed and sorrowful soul. Good night! Good
night, my little Ernest. Who has put you to bed to-night? Who shall now
tell you fairy tales to send you to sleep?

The 6th Afternoon.

To-day as Frau Meisterin brought up my dinner, she eagerly tried to
persuade me to take a walk and not to sit so much at home. It was so
fine on the Wassermauer. So many people were to be seen there; she was
sure it would divert me. I could not make her understand that all I
wished was to collect my thoughts, and not to divert them; and that I
did not feel the slightest desire for the company of strangers. At
last, I convinced her by declaring that I