[Preuss, ii.

121 et seq., 292 &c.; Schoning, ii.iii.

PASSIM.] The hope that an INFAME CATIN might die some day (for she is now deep in chaotic ailments, deepish even in brandy) seems never to have struck him; at least there is nowhere any articulate hint of it,--the eagle-flight of one's imagination soaring far above such a pettiness! Hope is very beautiful; and even fallacious hope, in such a Friedrich.
The one hope that did not deceive him, was hope in his own best exertion to the very death; and no fallacy ever for a moment slackened him in that.

Stand to thyself: in the wide domain of Imagination, there is no other certainty of help.

No other certainty;--and yet who knows through what pettinesses Heaven may send help!.