Moeller himself was much inclined to
study Bostroemianism and write a criticism of this philosophy, which was
at that time predominant in Sweden.
He ought to have been sent South, or rather to a sanatorium; Orla
Lehmann's Scandinavian sympathies, however, determined his stay in the
North, which proved fatal to his health.
In 1868 he returned to Copenhagen, pale, with hollow cheeks, and a
stern, grave face, that of a marked man, his health thoroughly
undermined. His friends soon learnt, and doubtless he understood
himself, that his condition was hopeless. The quite extraordinary
strength of character with which he submitted, good-temperedly and
without a murmur, to his fate, had for effect that all who knew him vied
with each other in trying to lessen the bitterness of his lot and at any
rate show him how much they cared for him. As he could not go out, and
as he soon grew incapable of connected work, his room became an
afternoon and evening meeting-place for many of his comrades, who went
there to distract him with whatever they could think of to narrate, or
discuss. If you found him alone, it was rarely long before a second and
a third visitor came, and the room filled up.
Orla Lehmann, his patron, was also one of Kristian Moeller's frequent
visitors. But whenever he arrived, generally late and the last, the
result was always the same.
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