402; lxxviii.

82, 92; or _OEuvres de Frederic,_ xxiii.

20-24: &c.) alas, this is a very feeble kind of immortality, and Friedrich too well feels it such.

All Winter he dwells internally on the sad matter, though soon falling silent on it to others.
The War is ever more dark and dismal to him; a wearing, harassing, nearly disgusting task; on which, however, depends life or death.

This Year, he "expects to have 300,000 enemies upon him;" and "is, with his utmost effort, getting up 150,000 to set against them." Of business, in its many kinds, there can be no lack! In the intervals he also wrote considerably: one of his Pieces is a SERMON ON THE LAST JUDGMENT; handed to Reader De Catt, one evening:--to De Catt's surprise, and to ours; the Voiceless in a dark Friedrich trying to give itself some voice in this way! [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xv.