“Did the sister you lost live with you?”
“She remained five years with me in my present habitation. As unfortunate as I, she participated in my sorrows, and I endeavored to alleviate hers.”
“How do you employ yourself in such utter solitude?”
“The details of my lonely life would only be very monotonous to a man of the world who seeks happiness in the activity of social life.”
“Ah! you little know the world—it has never made me happy. I am often solitary from choice, and there
may be more similarity in our ideas than you suppose. And yet, I acknowledge, perpetual solitude frightens me. I can hardly conceive it endurable.”
“‘The cell continually dwelt in groweth sweet,’ says The Following of Christ. I am beginning to realize the truth of these consoling words. Loneliness is also relieved by labor. A laborious man is never absolutely unhappy, as I know by experience. During the pleasant season, the cultivation of my flowers and vegetables is a sufficient occupation. In the winter I make baskets and mats. I try to make my clothes. I daily prepare my own food from the supplies brought me from the hospital, and prayer fills up the vacant hours. Thus the year passes, and, when gone, it seems short.”
“I should think it would seem a century.”
“Affliction and sorrow make the hours appear long, but the years always fly with the same rapidity. Besides, there is one enjoyment left in the lowest depths of misfortune which but few can understand, and may seem strange to you—that of living and breathing. In warm weather, I pass whole days motionless on the ramparts, enjoying the air and the beauties of nature: my thoughts are vague and fluctuating; sadness dwells in my heart without oppressing it; my eyes wander around the country, and linger on the rocks that surround us; all these objects are so imprinted on my memory that they form, as it were, a part of myself: each site is a friend I greet with pleasure every day.”
“I have often experienced something of this kind. When trouble depresses me, and I do not find in the hearts of others what my own craves, the aspect of nature and inanimate objects consoles me. I become