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j^cj^i: 



. ^i-. i.^/i/c/i/^.^ '&/• 




■ Cojlc 



PRESENTED TO THE LIBRARY 



PROFESSOR H. G. FIEDLER 






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jkCoo^jIc 



SORROWS 



W E R r E R. 



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^<^ 



T H S 

SORROWS 

O F 

W E R T E R: 

A 

GERMAN STORY. 

^—^Tadtt carii cmsexa tturr. 
V O L. I. 



LONDON: 

7XINTED FOR J. DODSLEY, 

PALL-MALL, 



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PREFACE. 

CT^B OS E who expeSi a Novel 
-^ will he difappointed in this work^ 
which contains few chartUfers 
and few events ; and the defign of 
which is to exhibit a piSiure of that 
difordered Jlate of tnindy too common 
in our own country. It is drawn hy the 
mafierly hand of Mr. Goethe *, and 
is perhaps little more than the relation 
«f a faSi which happened within his 

" DoAor of Civil Law, and author of 
fome dramatic pieces which are nadi 
«fteeraed. 



^.r^-flB.Gougk 



vi PREFACE. 

editions in German, and foon made its 
V)a$ inh France, ^ofit tjpo years 
fince the "EngUfi tranjlator met with it ; 
.and being jiruck .with the unoaffSKt 
genius and originality of the thougi^/, 
and the energy with which . thty are 
expreffed, tranjlated fame cf the lesters 
from the French; and led on py the 
beauty of the, work, which encreafedin 
proportion as it was attended to, the 
whole was infet^bly fiaijbed ; and as 
no translation from the German has 
.hitherto appeared, it is now offiered to 
the Public. 

Among tbenHtmber of pamphlets which 

this little work gave occajionto, ,tk<re 

were 



PREFACE. vit 
were not vaatitwgfomrwUcb cenfttratiti 
and Mr. Goethe h-as htm c<died the ir- 
pologifi of Suicide^ h^thojt-wbo^notiif- 
tingttifiiing thi Author^«» the Woric, 
very ahfurd^ afcribed to Urn the erro- 
neous fentiments which he has given to 
hit principMl Chara3er,~'a method of 
eriticijm which would equally affeB 
all the epic and tragic wriieri that 
ever exited. 

V/ ZK-Tzk appears to have beenjirong- 
fy impreffed with fentiments of religion ; 
and it is not te be wondered at, that 
in his Jtate of mind thty fiiiuld take 
an irre^dar formy and fometimes ior- 
der upon extravagance, ji few expref 
fiom which bad this appearante, have 

9 ken 



vUi PREFACE. 
been omitted ly the French^ and a few . 
mere ly the Englijh tranjlator^ as they 
might poffthly give offence in a wsrk of 
this nature. 



V O t. 1 

p. g. U 7. /or Mcliafidi, r, Mclufim. 

P, 19. 1. II. fir Winhtlmann, r. WinkelmanB. 

P. »o. 1. til. fir confoit, r. wife. 

P. Si. 1. s./n-fcurch, r. feaftn. 

P. 133. 1- 6. Ml <bt Jimiulm afar mifcij; «i 

flan ii afttr her. 
P. 150. 1. S'/wWdftcin, r.WMflein. 

VOL. ir. 

P. It, 1. %. befirtVOt&t, plan Ani. 

P. %^. I. 5. far ieti, r. down. 

P. 39. I.ij./.rme«, r. m«. 

P. 52. I. 8. fir reafon, r. tettoou 

P. 116. 1. I4./ii-no, r. >. 

P. 171. L 6. fir Oalotb, r. Galotli. 



W E R T E R, 



W E R T E R, ^c. 



LETTER r. 

M«jr4. 

T A M glad thac I went away.-* 
^ Could I leave you, my com- 
paojco, my Ariend, that I might be 
more at eafe ? The heart of man U 
inexplicable. But you forgive me, I 
knowyou do. The comieiftions I had 
formed, were they notibfflcjemto tbr- 
mentfuchadifpofuionasmiiw? Poor 
Vot. .1. B Elconora ! 



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[ » ] 

Eleonora ! But am I to be bUmed 
for the tendernefs which took pof- 
fcflion of her heart, whiift I was ad- 
mking the beauty of her. filler? 
No ! furcly I am innocent : yet per- 
haps not entirely fo i I might en- 
courage her affedtion, and you have 
feen me pleafed, amufed, with the 
fimple expreflion of her tendernefs*. 
Many caufes might I find of re- 
proach; but I promifeyou todefin;, 
my dear friend. I will not always 
be looking back and dwelling on 
the painful remembrance of the fuf- 

* Tbit6rftofajeaofliitaffeaion»fap- 
poTed to be dead, andhnnotliingtodowitfa 
the following ftorjr. 

9 ferings 



t 3 ] 

fcrings I have endured. I will en- 
joy the prefcnt and forget the paft. 
You are certainly in the right j that 
fatal difpofition which makes us re- 
eal paft fcenes ^and . paft forrows, 
greatly adds to the number of the 
wretched. 

Be fo good to tell my mother that 
I am employed about her affairs, 
and that I ftiall foon write to give 
her an account of them. I have 
fcen my aunt : inftead qf being ill- 
tempered and makvolcnt, as Hie was 

.reprefented to me, Ihe is., the moft 
chearful agreeable woman you ever 

.faw, and has the bell heart in the 

world. I explained taher my mo- 

B 2 ther's 



{ 4 ] 

thef*s wrongs, with regard to that 
part of her portion which has been 
kept back. She toM me the motives 
for her own conduft, and the terms 
upon which Ihe is very willing to 
give up the whole, and do more than 
we have alked. But I will fay no 
more on the fubjeft at prefent j only 
alTure my mother, that every thing 
will go on weil, I find On this oc- 
cafion, as on many others, that neg- 
left and mffunderftandings create 
more trouble and uneafinefs, than 
dilhonefty and malice ; and they arc 
indeed much more frequent alfo. 

lam very well pieafedwithmyiitu- 

ation here. Solitude in this terreftrial 

paradiie 



i » 3 

para^ \% a medicine t9 my miod. 
The d^ligljt of fpring louches my 
he»rt* and gives frefli T^our to my 
fi>ul. Every tree, every buft, ia. 
fiiH (^ flowers, and a delicious p^r- 
fame ffllsthe air. The tovo itfelf 
iydiUgit^^i bMtthejiiK& kt^ 

of country, and the g^E(4 RSfMrnt 
beauties, are in its environs. Upon 
one of the neighbouring hiHs, which 
form a |Chais, and -diverfify our 
landfcape, the late Marquis . of M. 
made a gardeh : it is Ample, ^nd at 
firft fight it is eafy to perceive that 
it was not. laid out by .a gardeiter, 
but by a njaij of tafte and feeling for 
his own enjoyment.' J have already 
B 3 given 

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[ 6 ] 
given fome tears to the memory of 
its departed mailer, in an arbour 
that is rlo'w almotl in ruins, which 
vras his/avourkelpot, and is at prc- 
fent mine. I fliall foon have entire 
poflellion of this garden ; the gar- 
dener is in Illy iniereft, and he won't 
be a lofer by it. 



LETTER II. 

Miy 10. 

MY mind is calm and ferene, like 
the firft fine mornings of 
i]pring. Solitude and tranquillity, in 
a country lb fuitcd to a difpofition 
like mine, give me an enjoyment of 
life 



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i 7 1 

life. Life itfelf is happinels, and 
the pleafure of nserc exiftencc fo 
entirely abforbs mi, that I negleftmy 
talents ; I don't draw, I can't make 
a ftroke with the pencil, and yet I 
am a greater painter than' ever. 
Thin undulating vapours are fpre^ 
over the plain -, thick tufted trees 
defend me from the meridian fun, 
which only checkers my Ihade with 
a few rays. Here, extended on the 
long grafs near the fall of a brook, 
I admire the inGnite variety of plants, 
and grow familiar with all the litde 
infefts that furround me, as they 
hum amongfl: the flowers, or creep 
in the graft. Then I feel the divine 
B 4 breath 



t « 3 , 

breath of Uiat all-powerful Bdng 
which created UE ■, whofe bteraial 
love fuppDrts and comforts qs. A 
. 4«Jinefs fpreads over iny eyeij 
heawn and earth fcem » dweU in 
my foul andabrorl} HI its powdrs, 
like the idea of ft beldvitfd miftreft. 
Oh ! that I could «xprefs, thar I 
«>o1d defcribe, thefc great <:oncep-' 
dons, with the {zme warmth, wJtii 
^e fame energy, that they are im- 
preffed on my foul ! but the fiibli* 
tnity of chem aftonifhes and over* 
{towers ofie. 



let: 



[93 
LETTER III. 

Miiy IS. 

FAIRIBS and Genii hover over 
:my fteps, or the moll lively 
unagination jnliuencesaiyr^nfes and 
fiUs^ my heart. All ParadUe is be- 
fore me. Here is a fountain, to 
which I am attached 1^ a fort of 
cnchanttnont, like Mellafjna and her 
fiftcfS. It is a fpring of pure and 
clear water, which guflies from the 
rock, ia a cave at thebouom-of one 
pf th^ ki}Sifi i about twenty rough 
it^ kftd lo it I the high trees which 
hftBgo^^jf, the cooi refreihing air 
of the place, every (hing is agreea- 
- . . ble, 

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C 10 3 

ble, interefting, ftriking. I ne- 
ver fail to go to it every day, and 
generally pafs an hour there. The 
young girls come from the town td 
fetch water from it— innocent and 
necefiary employment, and formerly 
the occupation of kings daughters. 
The time of the patriarchs prefents 
irfelf to my imagination. I fee our 
anceftors concluding' treaties and 
making alliances by the fide of 
fountains, propitious angels bearing 
witncfs. Whoever does not enter 
into thcfe fenfations, my dear friend, 
has never really enjoyed cool repofe 
by the fide of a fpring, after a long 
fiimmer's walk. 

LET- 

unr^-flB, Google 



I li 3 
LETTER IV. 

Miy ij. 

YO U offer me books i I will 
have nothing to do with them : 
for heaven's fake don't fend me' any; 
I don't wi(h to be again guided, 
heated, agitated. Alas ! my heart 
is of itfeif but too much agi- 
tated already. I want ftrains thac 
may lull me j and Homer furniOies 
than in abundance. Often have I 
ftrove to calm the blood that feemed 
boiling in my veins-, often have I 
endeavoured to flop the keen and 
fudden paflions of my heart— But 
^tis not to you thac I need explain its 
feelings ; 



feelings ; you haVe often feen with 
concerp ttiy quick ^3i|fitipns^ from 
, forrow to immoderate joy, and from 
fpft melancholy to yiglent ^nd.daat. 
gerous paflions. My he^rt is like 
a Tick child ; and like a fick child 
I let it hav€ its way ;— But riiat be- 
tween ourfelves ; for I know I fliould, 
be blamed for it, _ 



LETTER V. 

Miy 15. 

T A M already very Riwch known- 
•*■ and beloved by all the common 
people here, particularly the. chil- 
dren.- Atfirft whcoi took notice of 

them 



;,,:-flr„G0Ugk 



[ .3 1 

them and fpoke to them, they anfwer- 
ed me rather roughly, and thought I 
meant to infult them. However, I 
was not difcouraged ; but I found 
the truth of an obfervation I had 
often made before — that people of 
condition keep their inferiors ac a 
great diftancc, as if they could lofe 
their dignity by coming near them, 
ft is only a fchool-boy's wantonnefs, 
or very poor pretence to wit, which 
could poffibly make any bodyaf- 
fe£l to defcend to the fame level 
with their inferiors, in order after- 
wards to treat them with contempt 
and ridicule. I know that we are 
jio^ nor cannot be aU^qual^ but 

2 who- 



' £ 14 ] 
whoever keeps aloof from the people, 
in order to gain refpeft, I look upon 
as a coward, who hides himfelf lealt 
he fliould not be able to ftand be- 
fore his adverfary. 

The laft time I was at the fouiv- 
tain, I found a young woman on the 
fteps, with her pail Handing by her, 
waiting till fomebody came who 
might help to put it on her head. 
** Shall I help you, my dear ?" I faid. 
*' Oh ! no ! Sir," ftie anfwered, co- 
louring. " Make no ceremony^" 
faid I, and helped her to lift the 
pail ; Ihe thanked me, and went up 
the fteps. 

LET- 



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[ 15 ] 
"LETTER Vr. 

May 17^ 
T HAVE made many acquaint- 
■•■ arice here 1 but I have as yet 
no fociety. . I don't know what it is 
in me chat can attract the inhabitants 
of this city i but they feck me, at- 
tach themfelves to me» and then I 
am forry that I can go no further 
with them. You afk me, what fort 
of people they are here ? Juft fuch, 
my dear friend, as are to be met 
with . every where elfc. Men ai-e 
much the fame. The generality are 
forced to labour the grf;ateft part of 
their time, merdy to procure nou- 
riftiment j 



[ r« 3 
rilhment ; and the fmall portion that 
remains is fo irkfome to them, that 
they are contriving every method in . 
their power to get rid of it. Such 
is the lot of man ! 

However, there is a Ibrt of people^ 
very good, and very amiaM*, with 
whom I often forget myfelf, and am 
diffipated enough to enjoy a great 
deal of that pleafure which is natu- 
ral to. us. A chearful meal, a neat 
table, gaiety with franknels and 
opennefs of hearr, a walk, a dance; 
and other little amufemetits in Uieir 
company, have a good effefl: on my 
difpolitioii : but then it is nece£- 
iary that I fliodd forget tht^ o*her' 
qualities 



I 17 1 

qualities in mc whkh lie di»niumt; 
ufelefs ; and which I am even obli- 
ged carefully to conceal from them. 
Alas I this idea finks my fpirits ! 
and yeti my dear friend, *iis the 
fate of all that are like me, not to 
iw underftood. 

"Why have I no longer the friend 
of my youth? or why did I ever 
know her ? I might lay to myfelf, 
*' Werter, it is avain purfuit} thou 
art feeking what is not to be found !" 
But I bad found it : I did find 
and know an cxahed mind, which 
raifcd me beyond myfelf, and made 
me all that I am capable of being. 
All the powers of my foul were ex- 

ToL. I. C tended,. 



■[ >18 -} 

Tten'de'd, and the deep fenumettt 
which nature engraved on my heart;, 
was unfolded. WhatanJatercourfel 
Our ideas, our expreSlons, were 

. thofe of nature ; and the pureft 
aflTeAion .warmed our hearts: and 
novf— but flic was before me in the 
career; flie is. gone, and has Irf't me 
alone ia the .world. Her memory' 
will be ever dear to my heart. Oh I 
I can never .forget the ftrength of 
her min^, and the indulgence of her 
ftemper. 

Afew days fmce I met with Mr.Y. 

Aa agreeable young man, with a very 

pleafing countenance. He is lately 

■come from the univerllty i and does 

not 



f 19 ] 
not think btmfiilf a prod^, though 
he may perhaps fee his fuperiority 
to moof (hat he meets with. In- 
deed he appears to have applied a 
good deal, and -has acquired much 
knowledge. Having heard that I 
tindo'ftood Greek, and could draw 
(two very ^ctraordinary things in 
this country) he came immediately 
to Jce me, and difplayed Ills whole 
ftock of literature, from Batteux to 
Wood, and ftxim De Piles toWin- 
helmann j ^ured me be had read 
'Oll the fifft part c£ Sultzer's Theory, 
and was in poflefBon of a maau- 
fcript of De Heyne's on the Study 
C a of 



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t so 1 
of the Antique. I foigave him aH 
this. 

I am become acquainted too with 
a very worthy man, who is Reward 
To the prince : he is free and open 
in his manner, and loves fociety. I 
am told that nc>thing is more pleaf- 
ing than to fee him furrounded by 
his family. He has nine children i 
and the eldeft daughter is much 
Talked of and admired. He gave 
me an invitation to his houfe, and 
I intend going the firft opportunity. 
He is about a league and a half 
from hence, at a hunting-lodge 
which the prince gave him leave to 
jnhabic, after the li^s of his confort : 
Ik 



[ 21 ] 

he loved her extremely ; anid couM 
not bear to continue in the Reward's 
houfe, where (he died. 

I have betides fallen in with fome 
ridiculous people^ or rather they 
have put themfclves in my way. 
Every thing in them is infupportable : 
but worft of all are their profefllons 
of friendlhip. Adieu. I think this 
letter muft pleafe you ) it is all hif- 
torical. 

— — — '■^ 

LETTER VIi: '■ 

Hv »■ 

'Tp HAT life is but a dream, is 
■*■ the opinion of many j and it is 
alfomtne. When 1 fee the narrow li-^ 
C 3 micjj. 



I ai 3 
mits winch confine the prsecratin^ 
active genius of man -, when I 4ee, 
that all his powers are wafted co 
iatisfjr mere oeceflHtieE, the only end 
of wtuch is to prolong a miferable 
exiftence ; that our feeraitig care^ 
rwith ■regard to certain enquiries, is 
tmt a blind rerignation ; and that we 
only amufe ourfelves with painting- 
brilliant Sgures and fmiling iand- 
fcapes on the walls of our prifon, 
whilft we lire on all fides of us the 
. boundary which confines us : when 
I conftder thefe things, my dear 
friend, I am filent : i cx3imn»say~ 
felfi and what do I find? Alas! 
more vague defires, prefages, and 
vifions. 



YiGons, tJiin i' find of ' cWrifiST-'- 
on, tnith, andredity: then aH' 
is chaos and cpnfulion before my' 
eyes; and dreaming like others, I' 
■let myfelf be carried away by the 
ftream. 

Afl wife inftituton and learned' 
tsachers agree, that children are ig- 
iiorant of the caufe which excites' 
their will. Butthat the great chil- 
dren, as well as the little ones, (hould 
wander upon this ■ earth, ■ without 
knowing whence they came, or whi- 
ther they go } without any certainr"- 
motivesforthcircondudjbutguided, . 
like them,.by btfcuitijfugar plumbs, 
and reds ; this is what nobody is ■■ 
C 4i willing^ 



[Hi 

willing to acknowledge, and ytt 
nothing I think, can be more evi- 
dent. 

I ibrefee what you will lay in an-' 
fwer to this; and I will allow, that 
the happieft amongft us are thofCi 
who, like children, think not of the 
niorrow,amufethenifelves with play- 
things, drels and undrefs their dolls, 
watch with great Kfpc£k before the 
cupboard where mama keeps the 
Xweetmeats, and when they get any, 
eat them direftly, and cry for morej 
Thcfe are certainly happy beings. 
Many alfo arc to be envied, who 
dignify their paltry employments^ 
ibmetimes even their pafiions, with 
pom- 



t 25 ] 
pompous titles i and who reprefent 
themfelves to mankind as beings of a 
fuperior order, wbofe occupation ic a 
to promote their welfare and glory. 
But the man who in all humility 
acknowledges the vanity of all thelie 
things ; oblerres with what pleafure 
the wealthy citizen transforms his 
little garden into paradife; with 
what patience the poor man bears his 
burthen i and that all wilh equally 
to behold the fun yet a little longer -, 
he too may be at peace ^ he creates 
a world of his own, and is happy 
alfo becaufe he is a man : but how- 
ever limited his fphere, he prefervcs 
In his bofom the idea of liberty, and 
feeU 



ftels that lie lias it in his poner ta~ 
^uk bis pnfon. 



LETTER VIII. 

M«y 26. 

^Vr O U know my way of choofing 
"■• a little favorite fppt ; how I 
make my arrangements, and fettle 
myfelf in it. I have found one here 
which entirely fuits me. 

About a league from the town is 
a place called Walheim. It is very.- 
agreeably fiiuated on the lide of a 
hill i from one of the paths which 
lead out of the village, you have a ■■ 
view of the whole country ; and there 
is a good old woman who fells wine, 
7 coffee,. 



£ *7 ] 
coSee^-and te^ there : but better than 
all this are two lime-trees before the 
ch\zrch, which ^Tpread their branches 
over a liule green, furrouBded by ' 
bsras and cottJ^Ds. I have feen 
few places more tetired and pea«- 
fol. I iend for t chair and table 
from the old woman's, and there I 
idrink my coSee, and xead Homer. 
It was by accident that J difcovered 
this ,place, fine fine afternoon : .all 
was perfed Aillnels ; every body was 
in the fieldst except a little boy a- 
bout four years old, who was luting 
on the ground, and holding between 
his kneci a child of about fix 
nmnths ; he prefled, it to his bofom 
with 



[ 28 3 

with his little arms, which made a 
fort of great chair for it, and noo- 
withftanding the vivacity which 
fparkled iit his black eyes, he fat 
perfectly ftill. Quite delighted with 
the fcene, I fat down on a plough 
oppofite, and had great picafure in 
drawing this little pidhire of bn>< 
therly tendenieis. I added a bit of 
the hedge, the barn-door, and Tome 
broken cart-wheels, without any or- 
der, juft as diey happened to lie ; 
and in about an hour I found I had 
made a drawing of great expreflion, 
and very corredt deGgn, without 
having put in any thing of my own. 
This confirmed me in the refolution 
I bad 

unr^-flB, Google 



( >9 1 

I had before made, only to cc^ 
Nature for the future. Nature is 
inexhauftiblcj and alone forms the 
greateft mailers. What is alledged 
in favour of rules, is nearly the fame 
■as what is faid in favour of the laws 
of fociety : An artift formed upon 
them, will never produce any thing 
abfcdutely bad or difgufting.; as a 
mac, who obeys the laws, and ob- 
ferves decorum, can never be a de- 
cided villain, or a very intolerable 
neighbour. But yet, lay what you 
will of rules, they alter the true 
features, and the natural expreOion. 
You will tell me, that they only lop 
'off fuperfiuous branches, and prevent 
the 



t 30 ] 

t}vt extraT^;»it. Let us compare 
talonta to love, mydear frknd. Let, 
vs foppoTe a man actached to a 
young woman, dedicaoi^ to her 
CTcry hour of the day, wearing hit 
health, lavifliing his fortune, to 
convince her each mcHnenttbat he is 
entirely devoted to her. Then comes 
a man of cold and corred under- 
standing ) a man who a^b perhaps 
in a public charader i and this very 
refpeflable perfon fays to him, 
•* My yodng friend, love is a na- 
tural paOion, but it fhould be kept 
withm due bounds : Make a proper 
divifion of your time ; give fome to 
your miftrefs, refervc the «ft for 
bufuKfs % 



I 3' 1 

Ibulkielss calcuhte your income^ 
and out ol the Aiperfluity make 
prefents to her, buc that only from 
. time to time, on her birth-day, or 
fuch like occaTions." If the yoatig 
man takes this advice, he may be 
.a very ufcful member of fociety, 
extremely ferviceaUe to his prince j 
but as to his lore it is annihilated } 
and if he is an anill, his genius is 
-fled. Oh t my friend, the torrent 
of genius would not be fo confined 
in its courfe -> its impetuous waves 
would rife and a&onilh us, but that 
cold and narrow-minded men have 
taken polTcirion of the two Ihoresj 
jhey have built houfes and planted 
gardens 



t 32 1 

gardens (Hi its banks ; they tremi- 
-ble for their little habitations, and 
dig trenches, and raife damsy to pre- 
vent the danger which threatens 
them. 



L E T T E R IX. 

May 27r 

I Fell into declamation and Gmilies* 
I End*-, and my enthufiafm made 
me forget to finifli my narrative. 
Quite loft in my ideas of paindng, 
which I unfolded to you at large 
in my laft letter, I fat for two hours 
upon the plough, and towards eve- 
nmg a young woman with a bafket 



;,,:-flr„G0Ugk 



[ 33 3 
on her arm came running to the 
children, who had not moved in all 
that time. " You are a very good 
boy, Philip," (he called out. I got 
up and went towards her, and aflced 
if fbe was the mother of thofe pret- 
ty children : (he anfwered, that Ihe 
was, gave the eldeft a cake, took the 
little one in her arms, and kiflcd it 
withamother'stendernefc. "llcftlhe 
young child with Philip*" laid Ihe, 
*' while I went to the town with his 
brother tobuyfomewhitebreadjfome 
fugar, and an earthen pot to make 
broth for Jenny to-night: the boys 
broke our earthen pot ycfterday as 
they were quarrelling for the meat." 
Vol. I. D I en- 



t 34 } 
I enquired wficre her other foh was; 
and whHft fte was tdKng nfie ifiat 
he was driving home two gecfc, he 
came' fkipping up to us, and gave 
Ph3^ a fittic ozier twig. I. conti- 
nued talking with the mothei-, and 
found ftic was the fchool-maftcr's 
daughter, and that her hiilband was 
gone to Holiand upon the death of 
an uncle he- had there. ** My huf- 
band found he (hould be cheated 
of the inheritance," laid flic; "for 
Be wrote and received no anfwer to 
his letters, and fo he went Bimfelf. 
1 have not heard of him lince he fat 
but.- God grant that no harm may 
have hajrpened to him J" 1 left 
this 



I 35 ] 

tUfi gQod.WKna« wwh r^gr«^ g(tyf 
her a creouer ;»buy wMte twtdlfef 
little Jcnoy wh«i> &« v<m nrxt to 
the towDi and a crcii^n- apiece t* 
the boys, and ft> wc p«ted. 

Tes» my d«ar friend, when I va 
no longer maftep of myifiif, nothing 
13 mor« caUubuvd Kt ^ipeafij the 
tuoiuk of my feni^s, tjtan the fight 
of fuch a tranquil beiti^ She 
moves, with a hsppjr thotightlsTanefs 
in che con&wd circle 9f twr ^ciftf 
eace ; d»^ aftv day ftufes vithtHit 
di%uieciuie v and the filing Icwm 
calfe no idea, biA thaf: gf approach)- 
ing winter. 

Since th^ firft ereaing I have 
D 2 gone 

unr^-flB, Google 



[ 36 ] 

gone very often to the lame place : the 
children are become familiar with 
me ; they have a bit of fogar when 
I- drink cofiee* and at lught they 
partake of my whey and bread and 
butter. On Sunday they regularly 
receive their creulzer ; for if I am 
not there after evening lervice, the 
old woman has orders to make the 
diftribution; 

They are quite at their eafe with 
me ; tell me all they hear, and thdr 
fimplicity pleafes me much. Their 
mother ufed perpetually to be call- 
ing out, CO tell them they would be 
troublefome to the gentleman ; and 
it is with great difficulty I have at 
X length 



t 37 3 

length prevaikd upon her to let 
them alone. 



LETTER X. 

June iG. 

WH Y don't I write to you ?— 
Do you pretend to penetra- 
tion, and alk fuch a qucftion ? You 
fhould have gucffed that I was well, 
but that— in a word, I had found a 
perfon that is ftill. nearer to my 
heart^hat I had found— I know 
not what I hare found. 

Regularly to give you an account 

how I learnt to diftinguiih the moft, 

-amiable of women, would be diffi- 

D 3 cult. 



[ 38 ] 

cult. I am contented, happy, and 
confcqucntly a bad hiftorian, 

I muft nqt.call^her ao aogel ; that, 
you will tell me, every body fays of 
the woman he lover: andyttlcan- 
not^defcribe to you how perfedt fhc 
is, nor why (he is fo pcrfeibi -Ihe 
has captivated all my fenfts. 

So much fitnpliciry, with fuch an 
nnderftanding ; fo mild, and yet fo 
animated -, a tninld'fo placid, and a 
life fo aftive. But'all ihefe are only 
the contmon -place phrafes of abftrad 
ideas, and don't exprefs a fingle cha- 
raftcror feature. Some othcc time 
-^but it muft be now or'tievcr. 
Fbr,l)etwccn ourfclves, I have, fince 
I be- 



X ?9 ] 
1 b^an my ktter, .been .fcireral 
times going to throw ^ovm any pen 
and fly to her : I tciade a vow not to 
go thither this morning; and.I run 
every moment tQ the windov^ ,to fee 
if the fua is.ftiil high. ■. . 

I was not able to hold out -, I weht 
there; I am now petiUFncd ; .and 
whilft J am eating my bfcdd and 
butter, wiil write to you, ifty dear 
■friend. Nothing can be more 
touching than to fee her in the 
midft of her little family. But! if 
I go on in this manner, you will 
know no more at the end of my 
lettcr,than you do at the b^inning. 
Be all attention then : for I Ihall 
D 4 en. 

unr^-flB, Google 



[ 40 J 

cndcsvouf to give Ibm'e method and 
order to my relation, snd enter into 
a great many details. 

I wrote you word fame time ago, 
that I had made an acquaintance with 
Mr. J. the prince's ftcward i and 
that he had invited me to go and fee 
him in his redrement, or rather in 
his little kingdoiti. I negleded 
going however -, and perhaps ftiould 
never have gone, if chance had not 
difcovered to me the hidden treafure 
which it contained. 

Some of our young men propofed 

a little dance in the country, in 

which I very readily joined, I choie 

a good pretty girl for my partner, 

and 

unr^-flB, Google 



t 4. 1 

and rather agreeable too, but oo^ 
thing very linking ; and ic was 
.agreed that I Ihould take a coach, 
and with my partner and her aunt^ 
Ihould call upon Charlotte, and carry 
her to the ball. " You will fee a very 
charming girl," faid the young lady, 
■yrhen we came into the avenue 
which leads to the hunting-lodge. 
** And take care you don't fall in love 
with her," added her aunt. "Why?"* 
faid I. " Becaufe (he is already en- 
gaged to a very worthy man," flie 
replied, *' who is now gone to fettle 
his affairs upon the death of his 
father, and folicit a very lucrative 
employment." This intelligence ap- 
peared a matter of great indifference 
to 



I 42 3 

tome. When we arrived at the gate, 
xhc fun vas.fuplc near the tops of thp 
inDurU4ins,the airwas hcav/,3ndlow 
black clouds feemed to be gather- 
ing in the horiapp. The woipen 
began tp be ^pprehenGre, apd i 
fprefaw myfclf a. great probability 
of our. party being interrup,i;edi'b\u 
in order to give th^ comfort, J 
put on a very fagacious look, and 
aflured thgn the wi^athcr woi^d be 
fine. 

I got out of the coach. A maid 
came down, and defu'ed us to wait 
one minute for her miftrefs. I croflcd 
the court, went up ftairs, and as I 
entered the apartment I faw fix 
children, the cldeft of which was 
but 



[ 4! 1 

but 'eleven -years tild» all jumping 
rounda^youngwiMnan, vciyel^nt- 
ly 'fh^ped, -and drefled m a plaiii 
white gown with-pmk ribands. She 
had a brown krff in htfr'hand, and 
wascutting 11 ices *£• bread and buf- 
tcr,-whk:h'flie (Jtfttibaeed in a ^ace- 
ful and -affeftionatc manner to the 
thihJren, according-totbwr'age and 
appetite. Each held up hi Httle 
hands -all the time the fiice -was ct«- 
ting, thanked Charlotte when here- 
ccivcdn,'and then ran totheiioor 
to fee thc-company, and look atthe 
coach -which was come to fetch her. 
■* I beg pardon,*' ihefaid, " for having 
given you the trouble- to come up, 
Q and 

„„.„», Gouylc 



t U ] 

and am forry to make the ladks 
w^t ; but drefllng, and foaie fatniljf 
bufinefs, made me forget to give my 
children their little meal, and they 
don*c like to receive it from any bo- 
dy elfe." I muttered fomethiag, I 
don't know what^my whole foul 
was taken up with her air, her voice, 
her manner} and before I could re- 
cover my&lf, ihe ran into her room 
for her gloves and^. Whilftlhewas 
gone, the little ones eyed me alkance. 
I went up to the youngeft, who has 
a moft pleafing countenance : he 
drew back, and Charlotte, juft then 
toming in, faid, " Lewis, ihake- 
bands with your t^ufin." The little 
fellow 

unr^-flB, Google 



t 45 1 
fellow held out his hand very readi- 
ly, and I gave him a kifs, " My 
coulin," faid I to the amiable 
Charlotte as I . handed her down, 
** do you think I deferve the hap- 
pinels of being related to you ?'* 
She archly replied, '* Oh t I have 
fuch a number <^ coulins, I Ihould 
be forry you were the moft unde- 
ferving of the whole fct." When 
Charlotte took leave of them, (he 
defired Sophy, who was the eldeft oi 
^thofe left at home, to take great care 
of the children, and to go to her pa- 
pa when he returned from walking. 
She told the little ones to mind their- 
filter Sophy as much as if it was 
herfelfi 



t 4« 5 

herfeif ; apd ibme promi&d fahb- 

fatly th^t they wduld : bnt a litde 
fair girl, b£ &t years cdd, lobked 
rathciF difeoUdnted, and faid^ |*' but 
ihe ftn'ECharlottE though for all that, 
afl4 Cb^rlvue, we love you beft." 
Puiimg t^b time the twoeldeft boys 
had gpt vp behind the coach, and 
at my requeft (he gjure them, leave to 
gp R» the; Old 6f the WDod« iipoa 
conditkift that they would, fiE very 
ftilt Mid hold faft. 

We had biitjuft letted ourlelves 
is the carriage, calked about the 
new faihJons and the . Uttle hats> 
■and the ceo^iwiy we were to tneec at 
the ball} wheaChvlfAte ftQ];^>ed the, 
coach, 

unr^-flB, Google 



I 47 ] 

co^b, and made her brothers get 
db^n. They would kHs |ier hand 
again before they went : the eldeft 
ihewed all the tender attcndoa of a 
bo^ of fifteen, .and the youngdt a 
gteat deal of wardth and zffeAitHi. 
She defired them again to give her 
love to the children ; and we drove 
on. 

The old ladjr aftcd her if jflw had 
rMd the book flie laft lent co her. 
, ** I eahnOi fay I ha*e," faid Char- 
krttfe, " and I will renim it yoa. 
I'confei^ I was nbcpleaifed with that. 
any mc*e thin With the firft which 
yoti fern me.** Imagine my fnrprife, 
*h^ haviog afted die tick» flte cold 
me 



[ 48 J 

me it was . Penetratioq and 

judgement appeared in every thing, 
flie faid ; each expreOIon feemed to 
light' . up her features with new 
charms and new rays o£ genius, 
which- were unfolded by degrees as 
fhe found herfelf underlbx>d. 

** "When I was very yoiing," flie 
added,"I loved romances betterthan. 
any thing in the world. Nothing 
could equal my delight, when I got 
into a' corner on a holiday, and cn- 
tered with my whole heart and foul 
into all the joy or forrow of a Mifa 
Jenny. I confels that fort of read- 
ing has .llill fome charms for me ■, 
but as I don't read much, the books 
Ida 



t 49 3 

I do read ihould be fuited to my 
tafte. I prefer the authors who 
don't carry me to fccnes too far re- 
moved from my own fituation in 
life, but where 1 may fuppofe my- 
ielf and thofe that are about me ; 
and whofe ftories are interefting, 
touching, like the life I lead in the 
bofom of my family ; which, with- 
out being abfolutely paradife, is a 
continual fource of fatisfaftion and 
delight." I endeavoured to conceal 
the emotion which thefe laft words 
occafioned ; and it did not laft long, 
for after Ibe had given her opinion 
of the Vicar of Wakefield, 6ft. ^c. 
with equal juftnefs and difcernment. 
Vol. I. EI could 



i could hold no longer; and I b^an 
■with great eagcrrtefs to tell her what 
were my own thoughts on the fuh^ 
Jc£b. After Ibme time, when Char- 
lotte at length addrtHed herfelf te 
thebthertwekdits, Ijiitlj^rtsived 
that they were ftUI Ih the coachw 
The old lady looked at nie feveral 
■time's with an air of raillery, which 
however I dtd not at all mind.' 

We then talked of dancing, " If. 
it is a iHah. to love 'dancing," faid 
ihe, " 1 will freely o*n that I am 
exti'eniely guilty ; no amufttnent ji 
motz igreisble to me. If any thin|; 
•iJifttAfe me, I go to my harpficord» 
jlay fome of Ac lively airs I havt . 



I S' ) 
danced to, and all is forgotten." 
You know mc, and will figure to 
yourfelf my coontcnaDce whilft Ihe 
was fpcaking— My looks ftcdfaftly 
fixed upon her fine black eyes ; tny 
very foul attached to hcr's, and 
fcizing her ideas fo ftrongly, that I 
hardly heard the words which ex- 
prefled them. At length I got out 
of the coach like one that dreams i 
and I found myfelf in the aflembly- 
room, without knowing how I came 
there. 

They began with minuets. I took 

out -one lady after another, and ex- 

aftly thofc who were the moft difa- 

■greestde could ^lot bring tbcmiclvex 

E 2, to 



i 52 ] 

to leave off. Charlotte and her 
partner' began an Englilh country 
dance. Imagine my delight when 
they came to do thetiigure with us. 
You (bould fee Charlotte: fhefeems 
to dance with all her heart and foul, 
and as if Ihe was born for nothing 
clfe -, her figure is all elegance, 
]ightnefs, and grace. I a&ed her to 
dance the fecond country dance with 
me ; Ihe was engaged, but promifcd 
herfelf to me for the third % telling 
me at the fame time, with the moll 
agreeable freedom, chat flic was very 
fond of allemandes. "It isthecuflom 
here," faidfhe, "forevery couple to 
dance the allemandes together } but 
my 



[ 53 ] 

my partner will be delighted if I 
fave him the trouble, for he docs 
the walfc very ill ; I obfervc the lady 
you dance with is in the fame Htua- 
tion. I am fure by your Engtifli 
country dances that you muft do the 
walfe very well yourfelf, fo that if 
it is agreeable to you to dance the 
allemandes with me, do you propofe 
it to my partner i I will propofc it to 
your's." We went to fettle this 
affair ; and it was agreed that during 
the allemandes, Charlotte's partner 
fhould attend upon mine. 

Wc began ; and at firft amufed 

ourfelves with making every poffiblc 

turn with our arins. How graceful 

£ 3 and 



t 54 3 

and animated all her mocioas ! 
When the walfe commenced, all the 
couples, which were whirling round, 
atfirftjoftledagainfteachothpr. We 
very judicioufly kept aloof till the 
awkward and clumfy had withdrawn ; 
when we joined in there were but 
two couples left. I never in mylife 
was fo aiftive i I was' more than mor< 
tal. To hold in my arms the moft 
loTcly c£ women, to fly with her 
like the wind, and lofe fight of 
every (Mher objeft ! — But i own to 
you, I then determined, that the 
woman I loved, and to whom I had 
preteiUiQDs, Giould never do the 
vaUe 



;,,:-flr„ Google 



t S5 3 
w»ife vith «ny other man^-Trycw 
will UDdfii^snd tbia. 

We i»o|[: a fev turns in the room 
to recqvff our breath « and che[f 
Charlotte fat down, and I brought 
tier a fe9r Qioes of lemon, all indeed 
{hat were left, which I ftole from 
thofe wha were making the negus r 
(he eat fomc with fugar, and feemed 
to be refrelhed by them ; hut I was 
obliged in pplitencfs to ofFpr thetn xa 
ihe lady who lat next Charlotte, and 
ihe very injudicicKifly took Ibme. 

We vere the lecond couple in the 

third country dance. As we were 

:goiogdown (and heaven knows with 

what extacy I looked a& her arms^ 

^4 and 



i; 5« ] 

and her eyes which bore the impreP 
fion of a naturaland lively pleafure) 
« lady of a certain age, whofe a- 
greeable countenance had Aruclc me 
at firft (ight, looked at Charlotte, 
.and fmiled ; then held up hec finger 
in a threatning attitude, and in a 
very %nificant tone of voice, faid 
"Albert! Albert!" 

" Who is this Albert," fard I to 
Charlotte, " if it is not imperti- 
nent ?" She was going to anfwer, 
when we were obliged to feparatc 
for hands fix round at bottom--, and 
in crofliBg over I thought I per- 
ceived that fhe looked penfive-. 
" \Vhy fliould I conceal itfrom you ?" 
laid 

unr^-flB, Google 



[ 57 ] 
faid (he, when (he gave me her hand 
to lead out of fides ; " Albeit is a 
worthy man to whom I am engaged.** 
I had been told this before by the 
ladies in the coach, but I had not 
then feen Charlotte ; I did not know 
her value. I feemcd to hear it for 
the fir(t time. I was diftrcffed, con- 
fufed, wrong in the figure, and put 
every body out ■, and Charlotte, by 
puihing one and pulling another, 
with great difficulty fet us right 
again. 

Whillt we were dancing, the 

lightning, which had for fome 

time been fcen in the horizon, and 

which J had declved to be only 

fum- 



fumm?r lightning, and pppceoling 
entirely from heat, becune wciwh 
tnore violent, and the thunder W49 
heard through all the noiftt of the 
fiddles. Three ladies rqn out of 
the fet i their partnerjs followed j th« 
confyfion became gen^ral^ and thf 
mufic ftopped. When any diftreft 
or terror comes upon us in a fcepc 
of amufcfpCRt, it ha? 4 ftronger ef, 
fe& on our mjnds, either bccauft 
the contract makes us feel it in.oiv 
keenly ; or rather, perhaps, b^aufe 
our fejifes being ppen to impK^ns 
of all kindf, thff fliock is mort 
forcibly and quickly perceived, 
Thi« circiwlUo;!;^; guy «c$0)ilDt in 
fome 



{ 69 1 

fotne meafurc for tbe exttiordiTary 
contordona^nd Ihrieks of the ladies. 
One- of the moft courageous iac 
down with her back to the window 
and flopped her can ; another knelt 
down before her and hid her face ii\ 
her lap i a third fhoved herfelf be- 
tween them, and embraced her little 
{iitcT, (hedding at the fame time a 
torrent of tears : fome inlllted upon 
going hofne } others flilt more dif^ 
trelTed did not attend to their indif- 
creet partners, who were ftealing 
from their lips tbofe fighs thjit werQ 
■addre0ed to heaven. Some <^ &he 
^□ckmen weitt down ftairs to drink 
4 boctle quietly } Aod tlw fcA «f th«. 
com- 



[ 6o ] 

company very willingly folfowcd tBe 
miftrefs of the houfe, who had the 
good fenfe, to conduft os to a room 
darkened by clofe window-ihutters; 
As foon as we came into it, Charlotte 
drew the chairs round, made us fit 
down in a ring, and was eager to 
begin fome little play. 

More than one of our belles drew 
up and looked prim, in hopes of 
fome agreeable confequences from 
the forfeit-s. ** Let us play at 
■ counting," faid Charlotte. "Obferve, 
I am to go from right to left ■, yoa 
are to count one after die other as 
you fit, and count faft : whoever 
ftops or mifiakes is co havt a box on 
the 

unr^-flB, Google 



t 6« 3 

the ear, and fo on till we have 
counted to a thoufand." It was 
pleafant to lee her go round with her 
hand up. " One," fays the firft, 
*' two," the fccond, " three," the 
third, and To on, till Charlotte 
went fafter and faHer. One theo 
'iniftook ; inftantly a box on the ear : 
the next laughed inftead of faying 
the following number — another box 
an the ear ; and Hill fafter and faAer. 
I had two for my (hare ; I fancied 
<hey were harder than the reft, and 
was much delighted. A general 
iconfufion and laughter put an end 
ito the play, long before we got to a 
jthoufand. The ftorm cealedi the 
com- 



t 62 ] 

tompany formed into little parties?. 
Charlotte returned to the a^mbljr- 
toom, and I followed her. As we 
were going, Ihcfaid, '* The blows 
I itiflided made them forget their 
appreheRfions -, I- myfdf was as 
much afraid as any body, but by 
affeifting courage to keep up the 
fpirits of the company, I really loft 
my fears," Wc went to the win- 
dow ; and ftill heard the thunder at 
a dillance ; a foft rain warered the 
fieMs, and filled the air with the maSk 
delightful and refrdhiog fmdls. 
X>eaning upon her arm, Charlotte 
lixed ber eyes on the country before 
w, then radlcd than to heaven, 
and 



[ 63 ] 
and then turned them upon me; thejr 
were Wet: Ihe put her hand upon 
mine and faid, * " Klopftock !" 
I ifas opprefled with the fenfations 
I then felt ; I funk under the weight 
of them ; I bent down upon her 
hand, and Wetted it with my tears-, 
as I raifed myfelf, I looked ftedfaft- 
ly in her face. Divine Klopftock ! 
why didft thou not fee thy apotheo- 
fis in chofe eyes ? And thy name, fo 
often profaned, why is it ever pro- 
nounced by any voice but Char- 
lotte's ? 



* A celebrated CermaD poet> uthor of 
the hltfDiih. 



LET- 



t 64 3 

LETTER XII. 

June 19. 
T Forget where I broke oiF my 



1 



narration ; I recoiled nothing 



about it ; all I know is, that it was 
two in the morning when I went to 
bed, and if I could have talked to 
you inftead of writing to you, I 
ihould certainly have kept you till 
day-light. 

I believe I did not tell you what 
paired in our return from the ball, 
and to-day I have not time neither. 
There was a beautiful fun-rifing i 
the whole country was refrefhed, and 
die 

unr^-flB, Google 



[ «5i 3, 
■t^t rain fell drop by drop from the. 
trees in the foreft. .-■'■.■ 

Our companions were ade^p.:. 
Charlotte alked me if I did.not wiibr 
to deep too? and defired I would not 
'make anf ceremony' on "Her account. 
Looking ftedfaftly at her, I aijfwf red, 
"As long as thdfe eyes continue open, 
"I, cannot clofe anine." We both re- 
mained awake till we camp to her 
dpor : the maid opened it fofdy, 
and anfwered to Charlotte's enqui- 
rits, that every body was well, and 
ftillinljed. I left her, promifing. 
■to fee her again in the courfe of th?;.- 
d&y. Ikeptmywordi andfincethat- 
time, fun, mooi^ ftars, may [?ifti 

Vot. I. F and 



[ M 3 

and fet as they wiB i 1 know not 
whether it is day or whether it is 
night i the whole world is now no- 



LETTER XIII. 

MY days are as happy as thofc 
which are itferved for rire 
EleA; and whatever majr be my 
fate hereafter, I will never lay that 
I have not called hapfKnefs, and the 
pureft happineHf of Bfc. You ktiov 
Walheim j I am now entirely fctded 
tRere : there I am but half a league 
ihuB Chtrlotte; theie I ogoymy- 

fci4 



[ 67 3 
fclf, and all the pleafurc that a monat 
is capable of. When I chofe Wal- 
heim for the end t^ my walks, I 
little thoaght that all heaven Was 
(o near it. How many times, in my 
long rambles, have I feen this hunt- 
ing-lodge, which now contains the 
rfjjefk of all my vows, fometimes 
from the top of the hiU, ibmcrimes 
from the meadow on the oppofite 
fide of the river. 

I have often relle&ed on the de- 
fire men have to extend themfclves, 
and to make new difcoveries ; and 
€pon that fccrtt impulfc, which af- 
terwards inclmes them to return to 
dieir circle, to conform to the laws 
Fa of 



t 63 3, 
©f cuftoqi, ■ and to embarrafs them-, 
felves flO: longer with what paflca 
either to the right or to the left. , 

When I firft came hither, and 
from the top of the hill contem- 
plated the beauties of this vale, you 
fannot imagine how I was attraded 
by every thing I faw raund me. 
The little wood oppofite, how de- 
lightfulto fit under its ihade I how 
fine theview from that point of rock.! 
How -agreeably might one. wander 
in thpfe clofe valleys, and amongft 
ihofe. brpken hills ! I went and 
came without having found what I 
willied. Diftance, my dear friend, 
is like futurity; adarknefsisplacei^ 
J bcfoue 



i «9 I 

Before usj and the perceptions' of 
our mind are is obfcure a» dtftan» 
ebjeifts are to our fight; We ardent- 
ly wi(h for a warm and noble energy 
which might take poQeffion of oup 
fouls ;we would facrificcourwhole be- 
ingtobefinedwithfuchafentimeni. - 

• So the moft determined travellcF 
returns at length to his country, antt 
finds in his own cottage, in the arm^ 
of his wife, in the fociety of hi» 
children, and-in the labour neceiTary 
to maintain them, all the happinefs- 
which he fought in vain in thd vaft' 
^eferls of the world.. 

• When I go to Walheim at= funs 
ijfe,. gather my own peafe, and fie 
- • E 3, in. 

unr^-flB, Google 



I 70 3 
in a cmwr to Ihell thenii and read 
Homer t when I go into the liale 
kitchen and nuke a Coup of them, 
I figure CO myfelf the iUuftrious 
lovers of IVttdope killing and dreflV 
ing thor own meac All defcrip- 
tions' of the patriarchal life g^ve me 
the moft calm and agtce^le ideas ; 
and now, thank Heaven, i can com- 
pare to it the life I lead oiyiclf. 
Happjr it is for mc thai mjr heait is 
•capable of feelit^ the iame lioqife 
and innocent pleaTure, as the peaiaot 
who fees on his uble thecabb;^ Iw 
has raifed with his owa band i and, 
wbo aac only enjoys Jus meal, ^t 
fcmenbcrs 4tfo^ with del^M^ tte 
. fine 

unr^-flB, Google 



i n 3 

£n.e morning in whicb ht planted it, 
the fofc cvemqgs ia which he nrMKO^ 
it, Aod the pleafure hcJwdjn&ei^ 
it gcew «nd Bouciib. 



LETTER Kir. 

ITpHE day befone ycfterday thf 
* phyGcian came from the tpwo 
to make a vi0t at the fteward's. He 
found me vpon the floor, playii^ 
with Charlotte's children j we were 
tickling pne another, and nunping^ 
andnukii^jigrcat noi&. Xhedoc- 
cpr is very fonofd and ray Jolepm^ 
adjufts JEhe plaits of k^ ruStea mhUft 

unr^-flB, Google 



t 1^ -r 

iiz is difcourfing with you, anal 
'drjffs his chifterKng up to his chiif. 
^e' thought this conduft bf ftiirifc 
very much beneath the dignity ot 
man: I gerceivcd it by his counte-- 
nance ; but I neverthelefs continued . 
to refvjld ihg^opfef of cardsSfhich. 
tlie children had blown down. He 
told every body when he went back, 
that the fteward*s children were.: 
Tpoilt enough before, but that now 
-Werter entirely ruifted' them. 
' Kothing touches me^ore than chip, 
tiren, my dear friend, when 1 confider 
'ttiem, and obferve in the little beings 
the feeds of ill thofe virtues ahd'qua- 
JiticsVhich wilt one day be fo'neceP 
'^ ■ ' fary 



t 73 T 
ISry to them ; when I fee in the oB- 
ftinate, all the future Brmncfs and 
eonftancy of a great andnoble cha- 
rafter ^ in the capricious, that Ic^ 
vity and" gaiety of temper which 
will make them lightly pals" over the 
dangers and fbrrows of life ; and 
when r fee them alt opennefs and 
fimplicity, then I call to mind the 
divine words of our teacher, *' If you 
'do not become like one of thefe— '* 
And thele children who are ouf 
equaTs, and whom we ought to look 
upon as our models, we treat theni 
like fubjeds -, they ire- to have no- 
will of their own — Have wc then 
none ourfelves i and whence comes 



tbis excluHve right? Is it becaufi; 
we are older and more ciqpcrienced? 
Great God I from the height of thf 
glory thou bcholdeft great children 
and little children (there are no 
other) and thou had: long iince de- 
clared to which thou gjveft the pre- 
ference 1 But it has alfo jbeen long 
fince declared, that th^ believe in 
him, and do not hear him; and their 
diildrea are after their own image. 

Adieu, my dear friend : I will 
not bewilder myi^ upon tjiii fub- 
jeftany loQgcr. 



LET- 



t « 1 

LETTER XV. 

JOfu 

CHarlotte will fpcad Home time 
ia the tosrn : ihe is with a 
vaydderrittg woman, who has beta 
f^ven over by ber phjrGciaiis, and 
who wilhed CO iiave Charlotte witii 
ber in her laft momentSL What 
coolblatioD ihe is capable of giving 
to the Bck, I have tnyielf expc- 
neoced, for my heart k much dif* 
cafed. I went with her laft week to 
fee the ricar of S^i a fmall village 
in the mouacainii, about a league 
ffom heace^ We ^t theie about 
fiNtro'clock^ Cb«rl9t^4lialefifter 



;,,:-flr„G0Ugk 



C -75 1 

went with us* When-we canje inta- 
ke court,' which is' Aadcd by two 
fine iKOnuc-trees, the good old man 
was^ fitting upon his bench. J^ 
fight of CharFottCj he forgot "his 
old age and hts oaken fttck, and ven- 
tured to walk towards her. She ran 
to him, and made him fit down again, 
■fat down by him, prcfented a thou; 
land compliments to him from her 
fether, and played with the youngeft 
of his children, the amufement of 
his old age, though it was rather 
dirty and difagrttablc. I wifli you 
ieould have feen her attention to chn 
good OM man; I wiih- you could 
have heard ier- raifing- -her -voice 
' bccaufe: 



1 » 3 

'^ocau& he is a licde^eaf^ ztiA tell^ 
ic^him of youDgand'hcaithy people 
v/hjo^bzd died when ic leaft. could, 
'^ve -been, exped^d'; comr^iviifiQ 
the virtues -of tJjf Carelftadjvryers, 
and approv^ his intention o^^eing 
thither the nextfummerj and-^lTur-^ 
ing him'lkejhq^ghthe looked Jbet- 
te;r than hedid.che lafttime ihc-law 
|iim. , .During this, time I paid, n^ 
compliments and taUced to his v/i£si 
!rhe fld.ma^, feemed quite in fpirits^ 
and as I could n<)t help admiring 
the beauty of his walnut- trees, whici^ 
ibrm^ fuch an agreeable Ihade ovec 
our heads, he began to give us the 
Jiiftoryof them.: 'f As to the ol^elt," 



t 78 f 

6ad hCf "we don*t tnow wfio 
planted it; fome fay one ckrgymMT^ 
and fome fajr another: a^ to the 
yonngeft, h ii exaaiy the age of 
■ly wife i it will be fifty yeare old 
aexeOftoberj Iter fatfaer ptantcd it 
in ihe mormngi and towards ere- 
nit^ fhe cane into i!hc worid. My 
wift'j father was my predecellbr 
here, and I cannot eipreft to you 
how fond he was of this tree j it i« 
Certainly not Icfs dear to me. Upon 
* log of wood, under thb fame tree, 
my wife was fitting and knitting 
wfiot I came into Ars comt the firft 
time, five and twenty years ago."* 
Charkrtleenquiredaftcribisdaughteft 
lie 

unr^-flB, Google 



[ 79 J 

he faid Ihc was gone with Mr. Smith 
into the meadows to fee the hay-mak- 
ing. He then refumed his hiftory, 
and told Us how he got into the good 
^aces of his pfcdeceflbr, and of his 
daughter i how he became firft his 
curate and then his fuccefTor ■, and 
he had fcarcely fihifhed his ftory, 
when his daughter returned with 
Mr. S. and affectionately laluted 
Charlotte. She has a clear brown 
complexion, is well made, tivcly, 
and a lenOble worthy man might 
pafs his time very happily with her 
in the country. Her lover, for fuch 
Mr. Smith immediately appeared to 
be, has an agreeable perfon, but 
9 wa» 



{ .80 3 
'W9S wry Teferved} and would aat 
joinjn th? convFriation , nptwith- 
ftanding all ti\e epd^v ^yrs of Char- 
lotte for that ,purpofe. I, was uo- 
ealy at it, becaiife I perceived bjr 
hiscountenance.that it was.n.ot for 
want of ^talents, ■ but from .caprice 
and ill-humouc It was .bp^,. too 
evident afterwards,- when we went 
to take a \yalk ; for whilll J was 
talking and laughing with the vicar's 
daughter, the countenance, of this 
gentleman, which before was none 
of the.pleafanteft;, became fo dark 
andangr/j that Charlotte pulled me 
by the fleevc to make me dffift. 
Nothing concerns me more than to 
^ • • ' - ie' 



;,,:-flr„G0Ugk 



t 8.- 1 

fee men torment one anotlierj par3 
licularl/ when in the Bower of their 
age, in the very feartih of pleafure, 
they wafte their few ihor: "days of 
fun-fliine in quarrels and difputes, 
and only feel their error wlien it is 
too late to repair it. This dwdt 
upon my mind ; and during eur 
coHation, the converfation turning 
upon the hafipinefs and nijfery of 
this life, 1 could not help tdking 
that opportunity to inveigh bittefly 
againft ill-humour. " We are apt," 
faid I, " to complain that we have 
Ijut few happy days 1 anditappears 
■ to me that we have very little right 
Jo complain. If our hearts were 
Vol. I. G al- 



always in a proper difpofition to 
receive the good things which Hei- 
vcn fends us, we ftiould acquire 
{trcngth to fupport the evil when 
they came upon us." *' But," fays 
the vicar's wife, " we cannot always 
conimand our tempers ; fo much 
depends on the conftitution ; when 
the body is ill at eafe, the mind is 
fo likcwife." " Well, let us look 
upon this difpofition as a difeafc," 
I anfwered, ** and fee if there is no 
remedy for it." ** That is more to 
the purpofe," faid Charlotte j " and ■ 
I think, indeed, a great deal might 
be done in this refpeft. I know, for 
example^ tha; when any thing dif- 
turbs 



t 83 ] 

turbs my temper, I go into the gar^ 
den, I- fing a lively air, and it ra- 
niflies." *' That is what I meant,'* 
I replied ; *' ill-humour may b* 
compared to floth. It is natural td 
man to be indolent ; but if once wc 
get the better of our indolence, we 
then go on with alacrity, and 6nd a 
real pleafore in being aftive." The 
daughter liftened to me with atten- 
tion. The young man objefted that 
we were not matters of ourfelves, 
and ftill lefs of oui" feelings. I told 
him- that it was a difagreeable fcn- 
fation which was in queftion, and 
one that every body wifhed to get 
rid of i (Jiat we don't know how faf 
G a our 



■purftrengthwill go.till we have trieil 
it ; that the fick confuk phyficians. 
And fubmit to the tnoftfcrnpulous re- 
gimen, and the mod naufeous medi- 
cines, to recover their health. Ithen 
perceived that the good okl man in- 
clined his head. to liften -to our dit 
courfe. I therefore raifed ^my voice, 
and addrefling myfelf to him, faid--, 
*' There has been a great deal of 
preaching againft alt crimes. Sir; but 
I don'tJcnow that anybody has hitner- 
to preached againft the fplwn." " k 
is forthofe who preach in towns," 
faid he, '* to difcourfe on that fub- 
je£t, for peafants don't .know what 
the ipleen is ^ though indeed it 
3 woul4 

unr^-flB, Google 



[ 85 1 
would not be amils to do it here 
from time to time, if it was ont/ 
for my wife and the ftcward." We 
all laughed,, and fo did he very 
heartily ; but. it gave him a fit of 
coughing,, which interrupted us for 
fome tim^ Mr. Smith refumed the 
fiibjeft. " You have made this in- 
difpofition of temper a crime," fait} 
he } " that appears to me to be car^ 
lying the matter too far." *' It is 
Dot, though," I anfwered, '* if what 
js> pernicious to ourfelves, and to 
others, deferves the name of crime. 
Is it not enough that we are without 
the power to make one another hap' 
{jy,. but muft we depriveeach other 
G.3. o£ 

u,-,;.r]KG00glc 



t 86 ] 

of that fatisfaftion, which, left to our- 
fclves, we might often be capable of 
tnjoying. Shew me the man who has 
ill-humour, and who hides it j who 
bears the whole burthen of it him- 
fclf without interrupting the plear 
fures of thofe about him ! No i ill- 
humour arifes from a confcioufnefs 
of our own want of merit j "from a 
difcontenC which always accompanies 
that envy which foolifc vanity en- 
genders. We diflike to fee people 
happy, unlefs their happinefs is the 
work of our own hands." Char- 
lotte looked at me, and fiiiiled at the 
heat with which I fpoke j and fome 
tears which I perceived in the eyes 
I of 



t 87 1 

of the yoang woman, inclined me 
to continue. " Woe unto thofc," 
1 faid, " who make ufe of their 
power over a human heart, to de- 
prive it of the fimple pleafure it 
■would naturally enjoy. All the 
favours, all the attention in the 
■world, cannot for a moment make 
amends for the lofs of that hstppinefs 
■which a cruel tyranny deftroys." 

My heart was foil -, fotne rccol- 
leftions preffed upon my mind, and 
my eyes were filled with tears. 

** We ihouki fay to ourfelves 

every day," I exclaimed, " what 

good can I do to my friends ? I (»n 

only endeavour not to interrupt 

G 4 them 



t- 8S: J- 
then* in. their pleafurcs, and try id;- 
augmenc the.happineTs which I my- 
fetf partake of. When their foul» 
are tormented by a violent paSion^ 
when their hearts arerentwith grief,!, 
cannot give them.relie£for a momcDt.. 
" And.when.at length.a fatal ma< 
lady feizesthe^^ unhappy being, whofe 
untimely grave was prepared by thy 
hand— when Wretched ouL and ex- 
haufted, he raifes his dim eyes to 
heaven^ and the damps of death ars 
on his brow— then thou fiandeft be- 
fore him like a.condenined ciiminal 
thou feeft thy fault, but 'tis too latcj 
thou deleft thy want of power, 
thou feeleft^ with bitcernefs^ that all 
thou 



;,,:-flr„G00^;[c 



i «9 1 

thou canft give, all thou canft do» 
wiii.not rrflore. the ftrength of thy. 
unfortunate vi£tini^ nor procure for 
him 3 monient of confolation I" 

In pronouncing thele words, the' 
remcmbruice ef a like fcene, ar 
which I had been prefent, came 
with all its weight upon, my hearc 
I put my haiulkerchief to my cyj^ 
1 got up and left the company. The 
voice of Charlotte, who called-me tQ 
go home, made me recoiled royfclfi 
and ip our way back,, with what 
tendernefs ihe chid me ! how kjndijt 
{he reprefented to. me, that the too 
eager intereft,, -and the heat with 
which I entered into every thing, 
would 



t 90 3 

vould wear me OUT, and Ihorten mjr 
days !— Yes, my angel, I will take 
care of myfcif j I will live for you. 



LETTER XVI. 

July 6. 
^^ Harlottc (3 ftill with her dying 
^^ friend \ and is ftill the fame, 
ftilT the fame kind attentive creature, 
who foftens pain, and gives happi- 
nefs whichever way (he turns. She 
went out yefterday with her little 
fifters ; I knew it, and went to meet 
her, and we Walked together. In 
coming back towards the town, we 
flopped at the Ipring I am fo fond 
of, 



I 9' 3 

of, and which is become a thoufand 
times dearer to me now that Char- 
lone l»s fac by the lide of it. I 
looked around me, and recalled the 
time I had pafled there, when m]r 
heart was unoccupied anii alone. 
**' Dear fpring," faid I, ** I have 
hot fince that time enjoyed cool 
repofe by your freSi ftream ; stnd 
often paffing haftily by, I have not 
■even feen you." 1 fixed my eyes 
"Upon Charlocte, and was ftruckwlth 
■a lively feofe of all that I poflels ja 
iicr. 



LET- 



E 9» > 

LETTER XVIi: 

July* 
T T O W can I be fo childifti ?■ 
•*■■*■ I depend on every, turn and 
change of countenance. How can 
I be fo childilh ?— We have been at 
Walheim : the ladles went in a car* 
riage, but got out to walk. Whilft 
we were walking, I thought the eyes 
of Charlotte— but I was miftaken— 
However I will tell you in two 
words, for I am. now dying with 
fleep. When the ladies got into 
their coach ^ain, young W. Self- 
tadt, Andran, and myfclf,,wcre talk- 
ing 10 them at the window; the 
young: 



t 93 5 
"young men were gay and full of 
rpirlis. 1 watched Charlotte's eyes ■, 
they wandered from one to the other, 
but did not light on me ; upon mc, 
who ftood there motionlefs, and who 
few nothing but her. My heart was 
bidding her adieu a thoufand and a 
ihoufand times, and (he did not even 
io6k at mc. The coach drove off^ 
and a tear was ready to ftart. 1 
"followed her with my eyes ; I faw 
her put her head out of the window. 
'Alas ! was it for me that ftie looked 
out? I know not; and uncertainty- 
Is my comfort perhaps. — Good 
iiiightr-rl fee my own weakncfs. 

. -^ . LET- 



f 94 I 

LETTER XVIII. 

XT O U fliould fee how foolilh I 
■■■ look in company when her 
name is mentioned, when any body 
talks of her, particularly when they 
aflc me how I like her ?— How I 
Uke her ! I deteft the phrafe. What 
muft the man be who Hied Char- 
lotte, whofc heart and lenfes were 
not totally captivated by herP-^How 
I like her !— A little while ago, I w« 
alked how I Hkfd Offian ? 



X-ET- 

;,,:-flr„ Google 



C 95 ] 



LETTER; XIX. 



N 



O, I am not miftaken — I read 
in her eyes that flie is intereft- 
cd for me j I feci it. And I may 
believe my own heart, which tells me 
that Ihe— dare I fay it ?r— Can I pro- 
nounce the divine words ? — She 
loves me. 

Thatfi*eloT»inel CHr! how the 
idea exalts me in my own. eyes I 
How— I may tell you, for you are 
capable of underftanding it — How 
I honour myfelf lince I have been 
beloved by her ! Is it prefumpiion, 
cr is it a confcitJufnefs of the truth ? 
I do 



■f 96 ] 

1 do not know a man who is enable 
of fupplanting tnc in the heart of 
Charlotte :— Andyetwhenllie fpeaks 
of Albert with warmth, with .ten- 
dernefs, I feel lilce an ambitious 
courtier, who is deprived of Kis 
Tionours and his titles j or the foldier 
whofe fword is taTten from him by 
liis prince. 



LETTER XX. 

T T 0*W my heartbeats, and my 
■*■ "^ blood boils in my veins, when , 
l)y accident I touch herfinger !— when 
my feet meet her's under the table, 
J draw 



;,,:-flr„ Google 



[ 97 1 

I draw them back with precipitation 
as from a furnace j but a lecrec 
power again preffes me forward, and 
diforders all my fenfes. 
. Her innocent and eafy heart does 
not know, that all thefe little marks . 
of confidence and friendlhlp make 
my torment. When Ihc puts her 
hand upon my mine, when in the 
eagernefs of converfatiod ihc comes 
clofe to me, and her balmy breath 
reaches my lips, the fudden effeft 
of lightning is not ftronger. Ah I 
this celeftial confidence, if fiver I 
Jhould dare — you underftand me, 
. my, dear friend -, my heart is not fo 
corrupt ; it is weak, very weak ; 
Vol. I. H and 



[ 98 ] 

and is not that a Aegne of corrup* 
tion ? 

I look upon her as facrcd> and in 
her prefence I defire nothing : when 
I am near her I am all foul. There 
is a favorite air of hers, which (he 
plays on ^ the harpfichord with the 
energy of an angel : it is ftrikin^, 
touching, and yet fimple. As loon 
as flie begins it, care, (brrow, pain, 
all is forgotten. I believe I per- 
fcAly comprehend all that is related 
of the ma^c of ancient mufic. Ac 
timcB when I am ready to flioot my^ 
felf, fhe plays thac a!r, and the 
darknefs which hung over me is dif- 
perfed, and I breathe freely again. 
LET- 



[ 99 1 



LETTER XXI. 



w 



jQly it. 
H A T is the whole world 
to our hearts without love? 
it is the optic machine of the Sa- 
voyards without light. As Toon as 
the little lamp appears, the figures 
ihine QT\ the whitened wall ; and if 
love only ihews us fhadows which 
pals away, yet flill ws are happy 
when, like children, we ant tranf- 
ported with the Iplendid phantoms. 
I fhall not fee Charlotte to-day } 
company^ which I -could not avoid, 
iii^ders me. What do you think I 
Jiavedone ? I f«it the little boy who 
U 2 wait 

unr^-flB, Google 



[ i(jo 3 

waits upon me, chat I might at leaft 
fee fomebody that had been near 
her. With what impatience I 
waited for his return, and with what 
pleafiire I faw him ! I fliould cer- 
tainly have taken him in my arms 
if I had not been alhamed. 

The Bologna Hone, when placed 
■ in the fun, attraffts the rays, and 
retains them fo as to give light a 
confiderabletime after it is removed 
into the dark. The boy was juft 
this to. me. The idea that Char- 
lotte's eyes had dwelt on his features, 
the buttons of his coat, the cape, 
made all of them fo interefting, fo 
dear tO.iiie— I would not at that 
momenc 



[ lol ] 

moment have taken a thoufand 
crowns for him, I was fo happy to 
fee him !— Beware of laughing at 
me, my good friend : nothingwhich 
makes us happy is an iUufion. 



LETTER XXII. 

Jolyig. 

AS foon as I opened my window 
this morning, I faid, " To- 
day I ftiall fee her," and 1 calmly 
looked at the fun. I ihall fee her, 
and I have no other wifti to fbrni 
for the whole day : all, all is includ- 
ed in that thought. 

H 3 LET- 



[ 103 } 

LETTER XXIII. 

July 20. 
T Cannot yet approve the fcbemc 
■^ you have of fending me to the 
amba0ador of—— at——. I don't 
love fubordination, and we all know 
too that he is a hard difagreeable ftian 
to have any connexion with. Yoii' 
fay my mother wifhes to have me 
employed. I could not hcJp laugh- 
ing at that.— Am I not employed 
enough ? and if it is in IhcHing 
peafe and beans^ it is in fa£t the 
fame. In this world, all is mifery ; 
and thofe who in compliance with 
others are endeavouring to acquire 
riches 



[ I03 3 
riches or honours, arc id my ofH- 

nion madmen. 



LETTER XXrV. 

July 84, 
O I N C E you are fo much io- 
^ terefted about my progreG in 
draving, I mn forry to tdQ 790, 
that I have hitherto done Tery ia- 
lie in that way. I never was in a 
happier (£fpofition i I never under- 
Aood Nature better; I never wu 
more fenfible of the fublimc parts 
of it, nor entered more minutely into 
its details -, and yet I don't know 
how to exprefs the ftate in which I 
H 4 am. 



[104] 

am : my executive powers fail me; 
every thing fwims and dances be- 
fore me, and T cannot make an out- 
line. I think I ftiouldfucceed better 
in relief, if' I was to ul'e clay or 
wax : I ftiall try, if this lafts any 
longer. Three times I have begun 
Charlotte's pifture, and three times 
have dilbonoured my pencil. I don't 
-know how it is ; not long ago I 
was very happy in taking likenefles : 
J liave made a fhadow of her, and I 
matt content myfelf with that. 



LET- 



C 105 ] 

LETTER XXV. 

Jaly (7. 
T HAVE very often refolved not 
■^ to fee her fo oftai. It is more 
cafy to talk than to aft. Every day 
i yield to the temptation; and when 
I return at night, I fay I won't go 
on the morrow ; but on the morrow 
I find myfelf with her again, and 
don't know how it has happened. 
Don't imagine, however, that gaod 
rcafons are always wanting. One 
■ evening Ihe faid, *' You'll come 
again to-morrow :" I could not then 
avoid going. Another day, the 
weather is fo fine I muft walk. — I 
walk 



t io6 } 

walk to Walheim ; when I am there, 
it it but half a league farther. My 
grandmother ufed to tell us a ftory 
fjS a nwuntain of load-ftone : When 
any velfels came near it, the nails 
flew to the mountain, and the un- 
happy crew perilhed amidfl the dif- 
joinied planks. 



LETTER XXVI. 

ALBERT is arrived. Were 
he the beft and the moft ppr- 
feft of men, were I in every refpeft 
his inferior, it would not be leTa in* 
fupportable to me to fee him in 
poHcffion of fo many charms, fb 
many 



t 107 ] 

many perfeftions. I have feen him, 
my dear friend ; I have feen this 
haf^y huiband: "he is a well-bred 
worthy man, whom one cannot help 
liking. Happily for me I was not 
at the firft meeting ; my heart would 
have been torn to pieces ; and he has 
been fo kind as not to give Charlotte 
a fmgle kifs before me. Heaven 
reward him for it 1 The efteem he 
has for this charming girl mult make 
me love him. He fhews a regard 
for me ; I am certainly indebted to 
Charlotte for it. Women always, 
endeavour to keep up a good under- 
ftanding between their friends : it 
don't often fuccced^ when it does, 
they 



[ 108 3 
they only are the gainers by it, 
Serioufly I cannot help efteeming 
Albert. The coolnefs and calmnefs 
of his temper form a ftriking con* 
traft with the impetuofity of mine ; 
and yet he has a great deal of feeling, 
and knows the value of that hap- 
pinefs ivhich he poffefles. He feems 
very little fubje<fl to ill-humour ; 
which, you know, of all faults is 
the one I zm leafl: inclined to excufe. 
He looks upon me as a man of 
underftanding and tafte. My at- , 
tachment to Charlotte, the lively 
intereft 1 (hew for every thing that 
relates to her, augment his triumph 
and his love. -1 will not enquire 
-whether 



[ 109 ] 
whether he may not in private fome- 
ttmes tcaze her with little jealoufiesr 
in his place, at leaft, I know I 
ihould not be quite eafy. Be that 
-as it will, the pleafure I enjoyed 
with* Charlotte is at ■. an end. Shall 
I call it folly or blindncfs ? — But it 
wants no name — the thing fpeaks 
icfclf. Before Albert came, I knew 
all that I now know i I knew I 
could have no pretenfions to her, 
and 1 did not claim any ; and now 
here I am, like an idiot, flaring 
with al^oniflimeni, becaufe another 
comes and takes -her from me. I 
gnafh my teeth, I bite my lips, i 
hate.anddcfpifemyfelf; but Ifhould 
defpife 



C "0 ] 
defpife the man RiM more, who 
could tell me coldly, that I mull 
reconcile myfelf to it, for it could 
not be otberwife. Let me efcape 
from all fuch filly perfonages.— 
Yefterday, after having rambled a 
long time in the woods, 1 returned 
to Charlotte's houfe. I found her 
fitting vith Albert under an arbour. 
Not knowing what to do, I played 
the fool, and was guilty of a thou- 
fand extravagancies. *' For hea- 
ven's fake," faid Charlotte to-day, 
** let me beg of you that we may 
have no more fcenes like that of 
laft night i you are quite alarming 
in your violent fpirits.*! Between 
9 our- 



I III } 

ourfelves, 1 have taken to watch 
Albert i and when he is engaged I 
run there, and am always pleafed 
when I find her alone. 



LETTER XXVII. 

Angoft S. 

T>ELIEVE me, my dear friend, 
*-' when I talked of the people 
who might advife me to reconcile 
myfelf to this event, and faid **Away 
with fuch advifers !" I was very far 
from thinking you could pc^ibly be 
one of them: bur, in faft, you are 
in the right. I will only make one 
objection* Of two oppofite methods 
which 



^.r^-flB.Gougk 



[ n^ ] 

whicli are propofed, one fddotn 
takes either. There are as many 
various lines of conduft and opi- 
nion, as there , are turns of feature 
between an aquiline nofe and a flat 
one. 

Give me leave then to grant all 
your conclufions, and contrive a 
middle way for myfelf, to flip be- 
tween them. 

You fay to me, that I either have 
hopes of obtaining Charlotte, or 
that I have not. In the firft cafe, I 
ought to follow my point, and prels 
forward to the accompliflimcnt of 
my wiflies: In the fecond cafe, you 
telt me to a£t as a man, and throw 
afide 



;,,:-flr„G00^;[c 



C 113 1, 

sifidethe ufffortunate affie^ion whidi 
will coirfiHnc all my ftrength. This 
is very juftly faid, my dear friend, 
and very eaiy too w fay. 

WouM you require of a feeble 
man, oppreffcd by a low and lan- 
guid difeafe, which is wearing out 
his conftitution by degrees, that he 
Ihauld put an end to his miferies by 
a piftol ac a dagger ? Does not the 
fame difeafe, which is confuming his 
life, at the fame time deprive him of 
the refolution to put an end to it ? 

Tou might, in return, fend mc a 
fimilc of the fame kind. — Who 
would not have an arm cut off*, 
rather than rifle his life hy dc&rring 

Vol. I. t the 



t "4 .1 

the Operation ? Perhaps many would. 
— But let us leave' thefe comparU 
,fbns. 

There are times in which I have . 
rcfoluttoh, and fliould perhaps go 
away, if I knew where to go. 



LETTER XXVIII. 

Angnfl to. 
TF I were not deprived of all un- 
^ derltanding, I might lead the hap^ 
pieft life in the worM here ; fo many 
agreeable circumftances,'-and of a 
kind to make a worthy man happy, 
are fetdom united. Alas ! I feel it 
but coo fenfibly ! happinefs depends 
folely 



[ "5 1 

lelely on the mind ! To be confiderft) 
as making part of the molt amiablo 
family in the world, to be beloved by 
the father a& a fon, by the children a^ 
afathcr, and by Charlotte— and this 
worthy- Albert, who does not inter- 
rupt my happinefs by any flroko 
of ill-humour, who falutcs me cor- 
dially, and prefers me to every 
thing but Charlotte ! My dear 
friend, you would like to hear us, 
.when we walk together and talk of 
Charlotte, In fa^, nothing can be 
more ridiculous than our connect 
tion, and yet I am frequently fof-> 
tened even to tears. When he talks 
to me of Charlotte's -moil rcfi>eAa. 
I a ble 



t »s ] 

blc mother i when he defcribes to 
me her Uft moments, and the af- 
feeing fcene in which ihe gave up 
to her daughter the care of her 
children and family ; when he tells 
me how Charlotte immediately af» 
fumed another charafter i what a 
jkilful ceconomift, and an active 
houfewife Ihe became, and what 
a tender mother -, every day dil^ 
playing alt thefe qualities, and 
yet preferving her agreeable chear- 
fulnefs and vivacity ; I walk by 
the fide of him, pick up flowers 
by the way, with great attention 
make a nofegay, and— throw it into 
the firft brook t come to, and watch 



;,,:-flr„ Google 



t UJ ] 

it «s it glides gently down. I don't 
rtcolleft whether I told you that 
Albert is to fettle here. He is much 
cfteemed at court, and has obtained 
A place which brings him in a good 
income. I have feen few men fo 
pun^ual and methodical in bufinefs. 



LETTER XXIX. 

AagnA la. 

ALBERT is certainly one of 
the beft men in the world. 
I had a very fingular converfation 
with him yefterday, which I muft 
relate to you. I went to take leave of 
him > for I took it into my head to 
I 3 fpend 



E xi8 1 
Ifend a few days in the mountaias, 
from whence I now write to you. 
A& I was walking up and down his 
room> I obferved his piftols. -I 
afked him to lend them to me for 
tny journey. " They are at your 
fervice," laid he, *' if you will cake 
the trouble of loading them, for I 
only keep them there for form." I 
took one up, and he continued : 
*' Ever fince I had like to have fuf- 
fered for my precaution I have left 
off keeping loaded fire-arms." -l 
defired him to tell me what the ac- 
cident was, ^' I was with a friend 
in the country," he faid j '*. my pif- 
tols were not loaded, and I fl?pt 
7 with 



t 119 ] 
with pcrfeft tranquility,: but on* 
rainy afternoon, when I was Htting 
and doing nothing, 'it came into my 
head, I don't know how, that the 
houfe might be attacked, and that 
ihefe piftols might be <^ ufe, and 
•that we might— in Ihort, you know 
how one goes on- when one has no- 
■thing better to do. I gave my plf- 
-tols to my fervanc to -olean and 
'toad. He was playing with the maid 
"and trying to frighten hcr^ and, God 
•knows how, the piftol went off:: 
-the rammer was in i it went i^inft 
the g^l's hand, and tore off her 
thumb. Tou nuy imagine the la- 
mentations and noife we hadj and 
I 4 more- 



morcovfr a furgeoa's bill to pay. 
Since thAt accicknt my piftoU hav^ 
remained as you fee them." WJiat^ 
indwd, is the ufc of precaution ? 
we canoot» my dear friend, forefee 
the dangers which threaten us. Do 
you know, I like every thing in this 
smn, ex«pt his iti^e^ i and every 
rule has an exception. Bu(he isfb 
correft in his behaviour, of foch 
pcrfcft veracity, chat if. he thinks 
he has «fkcd any thing, er be^n too 
geoeral, or not ftri£tly true,, he ne- 
ver ceafcs to mpd^rate^ an^ (^wlifyy 
and extenoatq, till at . leogtii it ap- 
pears, that he -bas ftud nothing at aU. 
. Albert *QW, accordwg » cuftom. 



;,,:-flr„ Google 



[ 111 } 

was' immerfcd in his text : I ceafcd 
Vf hear him, and was loft'm reveries. 
In thefe reveries, I put the mouth 
of the piftol to my forehead. '* What 
do you mean?" cried Albert, turning 
back the piftol. *'It is not charged," 
fiud I. " And if it is not," he an- 
fwered with impatience, *' what do 
you raean by it ? . .1 canoot compre- 
bead bov a man ffaould be fo mad 
as. Co blow out his brains i and the 
bare idea of it (hocks me." "What 
right has any man," {aid I^ " in 
fpeakipg of ;an adion, immediately 
to pronounce that it is mad, or 
wifci or goodi or bad ? What is 
meant by all this ? Have you care- 
fully 



I «« ] 

fully examined the interior motiva 
for the aftion ? Haveyoufurly un- 
folded all the reafons -which gave 
rife to it, and which made it necef- 
lary i If'yon did all thisyou would 
not be fo quick with your decifion.** 
'* However," faid Albert, ** you 
will allow that fome actions are cri- 
minal, whatever were the motives 
for conmiitting them.'^— I granted 
it, and- Ihnigged up my Ihoulders. 

** But ftill, -my good friend;" I 
faid,' ** there are more exceptions to 
make. Theft is a crime : but the 
man who is driven'K) it by extreme 
poverty, with no deGgn but to favc 
himfelf And his family from perifli- 
ing 



t "3 3 

"itig'for want, muft he too be- f>u- 
nilhed ? and is he not rather an ob- 
ject of our compalHon ? Who Iball 
throw the Hrft flone at a hulband 
that, in the firft heat of juft refent- 
ment, facriBces a-faithlels wife, and 
her perfidious feducer.? or at a 
young girl whom love only has led 
aftray? Even our laws, ourpedantic 
laws, our cold cruel laws, relent 
and withdraw their punilhmcnt." 

*' Thefe examples are very dif- 
ferent," faid Albert -, " becaufe a 
man, under the inSuence of ^violent 
paflion, is incapable of refiection, 
and is looked upon as drunk, or out 
jq£ his fenfes." ".Oh ! you people 
of 



t "+ ] 

of found undo^andings,"- 1 replied, 
fmiling, " arc verf ready to pro- 
nounce fentence, and talk of extra-. 
vagance, and madnefs, and intoxica- 
tion ; you are quiet, and care for 
nodiing { you avoid the drunken 
oian^ and deteft the extravagant) 
you pafs on the other fide like the 
Prieft, and like the Pharifee you 
thank God that you are not like 
one of them, I have more than 
once experienced the eSt&s of 
drinking ; my paflions have always 
bordered upon extravagance, and I 
am not alhamed to own it. Do I 
not find that thofe fupeiKH- men, 
who have done any great or extraor- 
dinary 



t -25 ] 

dinary aAion, have in all times been 
treated as if they were intoxicated 
or mad ? 

" And irt private life too, is it noc 
infufferable, that if a young man 
does any thing uncommonly noble 
or generous, the world immediately 
fays he is out of his fenfcs ? Take 
Jhame to yourfclvcs, ye pet^le of 
difcrction; take (hamc to yourfelves, 
ye fages of the earth." — " This now 
is one of your extravagant flights," 
faid Albert-, "you always go be- 
yond the mark : and here you are 
moft undoubtedly wrong, to com- 
pare fuicide, which is in queftion, 
with great x^ions i for it can only 
b« 

^nr^-flB, Google 



be looked upon as a weaknefs. It 
it much eafier Co die than to bear a 
life of mifery with fortitude." 

I. was upon the point of breaking 
olF the coDveriation immediately.; 
for nothing puts me out of all pa< 
tience, like a common-place opinion, 
which mcAia nothing^., whilft I am 
■talking, from my inmoft heart. 
However 1 got the better of myfelf j 
for having often . heard this pitiful 
argument, I now b^in to be ufed 
to it. But I anfwered with feme 
warmth, *' You call this a weaknefe 5 
beware of being carried away by 
founds ! Suppofe a people groaning 
under the yoke of tyranny > do 
you 



[ 127 ] 

-you call them weak, when at length- 
they throw it off and break their 
chains ? The man who, to refcue 
his houfc from the Barnes, exerts all 
his powers, lifts burthens with eafe 
that he could fcarcely move when 
his mind was at peace ; he who at- 
tacks and puts to flight half a fcore 
of his enemies j are thefe weak 
people ? My good friend, if rcfift- 
ance is a mark of llrength, can the 
higheft degree of refiftance be called 
a weaknefs i" Albert looked iled- 
faftly at me, and faid, " Begging 
your pardon, I don't think the 
examples you have brought have 
any relation to the fubjeft in quef- 



jKGau^It: 



[ 128 ] 

tion." " That may very likely be," 
I anfwered, ** for I have been often 
told that my way of combining 
things appeared extravagant. But 
let us try to fet the matter in another 
light; let us examine what is the 
fituation of a man who refolves to 
free himfelf from the burthen of 
life— a burthen that is in general fo 
much defired — and kt us enter into 
his feelings v for we cannot otherwife 
reafon fairly on the fubjeft. 

** Human nature," I continued, 
has ceruin limits j there is a de- 
gree of joy, grief, pain, which it is 
able to endure, and beyond that 
degree it is annihilated. 

6 "We 



C 129 J 

"We are not, therefore, to enquire- 
wheiher a man is weak or itrong, 
but whether he can pafs the bounds 
of nature, and the meafure of his 
fufferings, either of mind or body j 
and I think it is as abfurd to 
fay that a man who deflroys him^ 
felf'is a coward, as to call a maa 
a coward who dies of a maTig- 
nant fever." •* Paradox, all pa- 
radox !'* exclaimed Albert. " Not 
fb paradoxical as you imagine," T 
replied j " you will allow that we 
call a difeafe mortal, in which na- 
ture is fo feverely attacked, and her 
ftrength fo far exhaufted, that what 
remains is not fulficient to ralfe her. 
up and fet her going again. 

.Vol. 1, K. ** Let 



■[ -1-30 1 
*'Let us apply this to the niir^-^ 
let us fee how ideas work, and how 
imprelTions fix upon it, tilt at length 
a violent pafllon takes entire pofTef- 
lion, deftroys all the powers it pof- 
feflcd when at cafe, and entirely 
fubducs it. 

** It is in vain that a man of found 
underfUnding and xool temper fees 
the mifcrable fituation of a wretch, 
in fuch circumllances } it is in vain 
'^hac he counfels him : 'tis like the 
>man in health, who {its by the bed 
of his dying friend, but is unable ca 
comoiunicatc to him the fmaUeft 
.portion of his ftrength." 

Albert thought this ^too gene- 

ral. I quoted the ^irl who lately 

i -drowned 

unr^-flB, Google 



C i3» T 

^lewtied berfelf, and made him k- 
•colleft her flsry— " A gbsd young 
•eteatiire, fo acouftomed to the nar- 
row rphere of doih^ic hbou^ and 
Che bufinefs of the week, that ft6 
^new of no ple2fiU« but taking A 
■walk in the fields on a Sunday, 
dancing oncfi perh^ tn the holt^ 
^ays, aird the reft of her time only 
talking with her neift neighbour of 
the news and little quairels of thd 
Tillage. At length her hevc feels 
«ew and unknown wilhes ; all that 
«fed to pleafe her, now by d^rees 
becomes caSete^, till flie meets frith 
A man to whom a new affeftion in- 
Vifjbly attaches hei^j from (hat time* 
K a her- 



C »34 ] 
Jier hopes iare all centered in htm v 
the whole furrounding world is for- 
gotten'by hcrj Ihe fees, bears, de- 
fires nothing but him ■, he alone oc- 
cupies all her thoughts. Her heart 
having never felt the baneful plea- 
fure arifiDg from light vanity,, her 
wifhes tend immediately to the ob~ 
jeft of them ; flic hopes: to belong 
to htm, and in eternal bonds experts 
to enjoy all the defites of her heart, 
and to realize the ideas of happinefs 
which Ihe has formed. His repeued 
promifes con6rm her hopes ; his 
fondnefs encreafe& her- paiGon >, hes 
whole foul is loft and drowned in 
pleafurc s her heart is all rapture : 
At 



t 133 ] 

At length Ihe ftretches out her arms 
TO embrace the objeft of her vows 
—All is vanilhcd away ; her lover . 
forfakes her.— Amazed ! petrified ! 
ihe ftands fcnfelcfs before the abyfs 
of mifcry -, flic fees before her all 
around is darknefs-, for her there is 
no profpeft, nor hope, nor confola- 
tion ; 'flie is forfaken by him in 
whom her life was bound up ; and 
in the wide univerfe which is before 
her, and amongft fo many who 
might repair her lofs, Jheftels alone 
and abandoned by the whole world. 
Thus blinded, thus impelled, by 
the piercing grief which wrings her 
heart, (he plunges into the deep to 
K 3 put 



•C -134 1 
put an end to ber tormsDCs. Siicii;!, 
Albert, is the hiftory of many men z- 
And is. it not a parallel cafe with ill- 
jiels? Natore has noway toefcapc:: 
her powers exhaufted, and contend- 
ing powers t9 ^rugg^le vith». deatb^ 
muft be the confeciuence. Wo«. 
vinta the nutt who cquld hear thU- 
£tuation defcribed, and who could: 
fay, ** A fooliOi'girl I why did not flieu- 
yait till time had worn off the inn* 
pr^ion i hfa defpair would havf 
been fofcencc^, aodi llw would havi;- 
fouod another Iqvcc ta c<un£»t her."' 
Olie might as well fay, ** A fool I ha 
died of a fever : why did not hq 
Vait oil h^ hvl Hoovered hi^ 
ftrcngth. 



r 135- r 

ftrength, till his blood was calm ?" 
ihen all woold have be«n well, and 
he would have been alive now," 

Albert, who did not allow the 
comparifon CO be jiift, made many 
objeftions : amongft the reft, that I. 
had only brought the example of a- 
limple and ignorant girl ;— but he 
could not comprehend how a man 
of fenfe, whofc views are more en- 
larged, and' who fees fuch' various 
confo|ations, Ihould everfufFerhim- 
ftlf to fall into fuch a ftate of def- 
pair. "My good friend," faid I,. 
" whatever is the education of a 
man, whatever is his undcrftanding, 
ftill he h- a man, and the little rea- 
K 4 fon 



[ ijs 3 

ion that he poflclTcs, either docsnot 
aft at all, or afts very feebly when 
the palBons are let loof^, or gather 
when the boundaries of human 
Tiatiire clofe an ypon him— But 
we will talk of this another time,** 
I faid, and took up my ha^-A!as-l 
my heart was full — and wc parted 
without convidion on either fide,' 
—How rarely do men underftand 
one another I 



LET T-EX 



;,,:-flr„G0U^L' 



I 



T m 1 

:L E T T E R XXX. 

Augnlt 15. 

T is (noft certain that what ren- 
ders one man necefliiry to ano- 
ther, is' a fimilarity of tafle and 
fentiment. I feethat Charlotte would 
not Lote me without regret-; and as 
to the children, they every day alk 
me to come again on the morrow. 
I went this afternoon to tune Char- 
lotte's barpficord : but I could not 
-contrive to do it ■, all the children 
came about me, -and alked me to teU 
them a ftory. Charlotte was defirous 
that I fhould pleafe them^ and X 
■told oiy vei7 beft.tale of the .prince- 
■that 

unr^-flB, Google 



C 'sr r 

tfiatwas fervcd by dwarfs, rim- 
prove by this exercife myfelT, I af' 
fure youi and am quite furprifed at. 
the impreflion tbefe ftories make 
upon the children. If I invent 3ft 
incident at any time^ and afterwards 
' •out iCt the liule arch rogues never 
£ul: to tell me, it waa noc fa die 
firft time ; fo that I now eodeavoar 
to relate with great exaSlnefs, and 
without any paufes, and in a tone 
of voice that is atmoft recitative. 
I fee by this how much an author, 
hurts his works by altering them 
even for the better The firft im- 
preffion is readily received, A man 
will brlicv« the inci«dible> ic will 
be 

unr^-flB, Google 



r 139 i- 

Ur engraved-, on his memory i and' 
woe unto tbofe who would after- 
wards endeavour to efi^ce it ! 



LETTER XXXI. 

■fTTHAT conftitutes the hap- 
" * pinefs of man, muft it then 
change and become the fource of 
his mifery ? That ardent fentiment. 
which animated my heart with the 
love o£ qature, which poured in- 
upon me a torrent of delight, which^ 
brought all paradife before me, is 
now become an infupportable tor- 
psaty a demon which purfues and 
har- 



T HO 1 

'^arrafles me incelTantly. In times 
paft I contemplated from the top 
of high rocks, the broad river 
'vrhich, far as eye can.reach, waters 
this fertile plain. Every thing put 
forth and grew, and was expanded. 
Around me all was in motion. I 
fawthefe mountains covered tocheir 
fummits with high and tufted trees, 
and the vallies in their various wind- 
ings fiieltered by fmiling woods ; 
the peaceful ftream gently glided 
through the tremMing reeds, and 
"in its calm furface refleiaed die light 
•clouds, which a foft zephyr Icept 
iufpended in the air. I heard the 
lairds animating the voods with 
their 



fi 141 1 

their fong. .Millions of inle^si 
danced in the purple rays of the 
fon. The arid rock afforded iiou~ 
riihment tathe mofs -, and the fands- 
below were covered with broomi 
The vivifying heat which animates^ 
all nature, was.every where difplayed 
before my ey£s ;.it filled and warmed. 
ray heart. I was loft. in the idea of, 
iofinicy. Stupendous mountains en-, 
compafled. me ; precipices were be- 
fore my. feet -^ torrents fell by th& 
fide o£ me; impetuous- rivers ran 
through the plain ; rocks Jtnd moun-. 
tains, refounded, from afar ; and in. 
the depths of the e^rth I faw innu- 
merable poners. in: motioii, and 
mul- 



T .■*» ] 

►multiplying to infinity. All the'bfr- 
'4ngs of the <:reation, of a thoufsnd 
tribes and a thoufand forms, movft 
upon fhe-earth and in the air t and 
«ian hides himfelf in his little hut» 
and fafs, ** I am lord over this rail 
univerie.** Weak mortal! all things 
■appear little to you, for you are 
little yourfelf. Craggy mountains, 
deferts nntrodden by the fodt (^ 
man; even the ^unknown confines 
■of the immcnfe ocean^ are animated 
by the breath «f the Eternal, ^id 
■erery atom to which he has given 
•exiftence and liie^ finds favour in 
his fight. Ah1 how dften at that 
«ime hn -the Jlight of a ^bird 
which 



I 143 1 
^hkti palled over my head, iiv^ 
fpired me with the define of being 
tranfported to the fliore of the kn- 
meafurable waters, there to drink 
'the pleafurcs of life as in a river» 
■4Uid to partake, if but for a mo- 
•jnent, and with the confined powers 
of my foul, of the beatitude of 
the Creatoi;j in whom we live, and 
move, and have our being. 

My dear friend, the bare recol- 
leftion of thcfe times fl:ill gives me 
-pleafure : the vehemence of mind 
with which I recall the fenlations,. 
Tvhich gives, me faculties to exprefs 
-them, raifes me above myfelf, an^ 
makes 



;,,:-flr„ Google 



r44- T 
makes- me doubly feel my prefenr 
,angui{h. 

The curtain drops, the fcenc ii 
changed ; inftead of profpcfts of" 
eternal life, a bottomlefs pit is for 
ever opened before me. Can we fay 
of any thing, that it exift^, when all ' 
palTes away, when time in its r^pid' 
prc^refs carries every thing with it, 
and our tranfitory exiftence, hurried' 
along by the torrent, is either fwal- 
lowed up by the waves or daflbed' 
^ainfl the rocks ? There is not a< 
moment which does not prey upon* 
me, and all around me j and every- 
moment I am rayfelf a^ deftroycr.* 
The molt innocent walk deprives 
o£. 



[ MS T 
of Itfe thoufands of poor inlcAs j 
one ftep deftroys ihe fabric of the 
indudrious ant, and turns a little 
world into a chaos ! No, 'tis not 
the gre^t and uncommon calamities 
of the world, the floods which fvvcep 
away whole villages, the earthquakes, 
that fwallow up our towns, whic^ 
touch and affeft me. What faps 
my heart, is that deftroyirig, hidden 
power, which exifts in every thingj 
Nature has formed nothing which 
does not confume itfclf, an every 
thing that is near it : fo that fur- 
rounded by earth and air, and by 
all theaitive powers, I wander with 
an aching heart j and the univerfc 
Vol. I. L i:> 



r i4« ] 

to me is as a fearful mohller, rthich 

devours and regorges its food. 



LETTER XXXII. 

T T is in vain that I ftretch out 
* my arms towards her, wHeo I 
wake in the morning after the ill- 
omened vifions of the oight i 'tis in 
vain that I fedc her, when an in- 
nocent dream ha^ happily deceived 
me, and placed me by her fide in the 
fields ; I held her hand, I covered 
it with kifles : Alas ! when . half 
aOeep, I Hill think I touch her, and 
then I wake entirely— torrents o£ 
fican 

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t 147 ] 

tears Bow from my oppreflfed heart t 
and bereaved of all comfort, I weep 
oyer the woes to come. 



LETTER XXXIII. 

Aaguft 2S. 
"% ^ Y aftive fpirits have degene-j 
•••X rated into uneafy indolence r 
—I cannot employ myfelfi I cannot 
be idle. I cannot think ; I am no 
k)nger fenfible of the beauties of na- 
ture, and books are diftafleful to mc. 
—When we give ourfclves up, every 
thing fails us.^I with fometimes I 
was a mechanic i when I w^ed 
in the morning I fhould have fome 
purfuit, fome hope, a tafk^c leaft 
L 2 for 



[ 148 ] 

fjr the day. 1 often envy Albert 

when I fee him buried in a heap of 

papers and parchiyieats up to bis, 

■eyes i and I fay to myfelf. In his 

-place I fhould be happy. — I have 

more than once iat*nded to write lo 

you, a^id to the minifter, for the 

employment which you think I 

might obtain. I believe myfclf I 

might have it i the minifter has 

kuig fliewn a regard for me, and has 

often told 'me that 1 ought to fcek 

ibme employment. It is the bufi> 

nefs of an hour only : But when the. 

fable recurs to me of the horfe, 

who being weary of his liberty, 

fuffcred himfelf to be faddled and 

bridled, and then found reafoo to 

repent i 



t U9 ] 

repent ; I fay, whc:n this fable re- 
curs to me, I don't know' what to 
determine upon.— Befides, my dear 
friend, this defire to change my fi- 
tuation, is it not the confequence 
of that refticfe pcrturbid fpirit which 
^uld equally porfue me in every 
Iituation in life t 



•' LETTER XXXIV. 

Angafi 38. 

IF my ills could admit of any 
cure, they would certainly be 
cured here. — This is my birth-day— 
Very early in the morning I received 
a little parcel from Albert : Upoii 
opening it, I found one of the knots 
L 3 ■ which 



I «50 J 

which Charlotte had on her fleevc 
the firft time I (aw her, and which 
I had fevCgM^es afked her to give 
me. Albert had added two volumes 
in lamo. of Wolftein's Homer, 
which I had wanted for fomc time, 
the Ernefti edition being inconve- 
nient to carry with me when I walked 
out. You fee how they prevent my 
wilhes, how well they underftand all 
thofe little attentions of friendlhip, 
fo fiiperior-to the magnificent pre- 
fents of the great, which are humi- 
liating, I kilTed the fieeve-knot a 
thoufand times, and every time I 
breathed delight from the memory 
of happy days — days which will 
never return. Such, my friend, 



t '5' 1 
is our fMe—l db not murmur at it— 
The flowers of life do but juft Ibow 
tbemfctves.— How many pafs away, 
and leave no trace behind I how £cw 
arc fucce«ded by fruit, and the fruic 
koir rarely docs it ripen !— Alas 1 
is it not ftrangc, my dear friend, 
that we fltouM fu%r to perifli and 
to decay, the little which remains and 
ripens ? Adieu ! 

It is the fineft weather in the^ 
world. — In Charlotte's orchard I 
often climb into a tree and choofe 
pears for her ; fhe ftands under it, 
and takes them from me as I gather 
them. 



. L 4 LET- 



C 162 1 
, L E XT E R XXXV. 

AugHll 30. 
YTTRETCH that I am, do I 
* ^ not take picafure in de- 
ceiving myfelf, and am I not with- 
out underftanding ? — What will 
become of this ardent and unbound- 
ed paflion ?— I addrefs no prayers 
but to Charlotte j my imagination 
fees nothing hue her j all that fur- 
rounds me is of no account, but as 
it relates to her.— And in this ftate 
I enjoy fome nappy honrs, till I 
am obliged to tear myfelf from her: 
^nd to that, alas ! my heart often 
forces me. When I have been fit- 
ting by her for two or three hours, 
quite 



C 151 1 

ofu'ite abforbed by her figure, tier 
attitudes, her divine expreflions, the 
fentiment by degrees takes pofleflion 
of me, and is worked up to the 
higheft excefs : my fight is confuted ; 
my breathing is opprefTed ; I hear 
MOthing i my veins fwe]l ; a palpi- 
tation feizes my heart, and I fcarce- 
ly know where I am, or whether I 
cxift. Then, if foft fenfations do 
not prevail, as ic fometimes hap- 
pens,-— if Charlotte does not at leaft 
allow me the melancholy confola- 
tion to bathe h« hand with my 
tears, I am obliged to leave her, 
and run and wander about the 
country. I climb fte^ rocks; I 
break my way through copfes, 
amongft 



( '54 J 
unongft thomi and brian wfaicb 
tear me to pieces, and I feel a little 
lelicf. Sometimes I he ftretched. 
on the ground, overcome with fa^ 
t)gue» and dying with thirft :- jbme- 
tinies, late io the ni^t, when the 
moon lliinea ufton ray head, I lean 
agaioft a beoding tree in fbme fe- 
queftcred forel^, to eafe my wrung 
feet ; and quite worn out and exr 
haufted, I fleep till break of day. 
Oh, my &icnd ! the di&nal c^, the 
lackcloth, the girdle with fliarp 
points of iron, wouM be indu^oce 
and luxury in compariTon of what I 
now fuffer.— Adieu.— I fee no cod 
to thefe tQimcnts but the gravct 

LETTER 



L E T,T E R XXXVI. 

September 3. ' 

IWillgo.— Mydearfriend,! thank 
y-oa ; I was in doubt and you de- 
Krmine me. I have refolved to leave 
her this fortnight •,— it muft be fa- 
She is returned to the town, and is' 
atthehoufeof afriend; and Albert 
—and— I will go from hence. 



, L E T 7 E R XXXVII. 

Scpumber 3. 
TTTHAT anight! Icanhence- 
* ' forth bear any thing. My 
friend, I ftiall fee her no more. Ah1. 
why cannot I fall on your neck, and 
with Soods of tears ocprefs all the 
I paQions 



[ 156 ] , 
palfimis which tear my heart t I am 
fitting down, and trying to breathe 
freely, aod doing all that ts in. my 
power to compofe my mind j— I am 
waiting for day-light and the poft' 
bodes. Charlotte is ac reft} the 
does not know that Ihe will fee me 
no more. I tore myfelf away i and 
had the afolution not to betray my 
intention, during a converfation 
which lafted two hours.— Great God! 
fuch a converfation 1 

Albert promifed me to come with 
Charlotte into die garden imtpedi- 
atcly after fupper. I was upon the 
terrace,undcrthethickchefnut-trees, 
and faw the fetting fun ; my eyes for 
the lall time faW him fmk beneath 
this 



t W ]; 

this delightful valley and filentftrcam. 
1 had often been upon the fame fpot 
with Charlotte, and feen the fame 
glorious fight, and now — I walked 
up and down this walk, fo dear to 
me : a fecret fympathy had often de- 
tained me there before I knew Char- 
lotte i and we were pleafcd when, 
early in our acquaintance, we foupd 
we had both had the fame predilec- 
tion for this place. Under the chef- 
nut-trees there is. an extcnITve view 
—But I remember that I mention- 
ed this to you before in a letter, 
and defcribed how high copfes in- 
clofe the end of it ; how the walk 
through the wood becomes darker 
and darker, till it ends in a recefs, 
formed 

unr^-flB, Google 



t 158 ] 

formed by the thickcft trees, and 
which has all the charms "of gloomy 
folitude. I ftllj remember the tender 
melancholy which came over my 
heart the firft time I entered this 
filent deep retreat. I had certainly 
a fecret foreboding, that it would 
one day be the fcene of my happi- 
nefs and of my torment. 

After I had fpent half an hour 
in the oppoGte ideas of going away 
and returning again, I heard them 
come up the terrace, I ficw to meet 
them, and fhuddering, I took Char- 
lotte's hand and kifTed it, Juft. as 
we reached the top of the terrace, 
the moon appeared behind a hill 
covered with wood. Converting on 
various 



t 159 ] 

various fubje<fts we came to the dark 
xecefs : Charlotte went in and fat 
dowAt Albert fat down b^ her fide; 
Jtdidthefame.-^-But my agitation did 
not foiFer me to remain long feaied : 
' I got up and ftood before her, walked 
backwards and forw^'ds* fat down 
^ain i^it was 4 ftatc of violent 
emotions. 

Charlotte made us obferre a line 
<&'«& d moon.light at the end of 
the wood, which appeared the more 
Arikingand brtUiantfrom thedark- 
nefs which Surrounded the fpotwhere 
-we were. We remained for ibmc 
time fdent \ and then Charlotte faid, 
** Whenever X walk by moon-light, it 
brings to my leaiembrance all tho& 
who 



C 160 ] 

who were dear to me, and who are no 
more ; and I think of death and a fu- 
ture ftate,— Yes, continues ftie, with 
a 6rm but touching voice, ** we Ihalt 
ftillexift; butWerter, fliall wefind 
one aoother out ? Shall we know one- 
anothcr again ? What prelages have 
you ? What is-yoiur opinion ?" 

" Charlotte," I faid, holding out 
my hand to her, and my eyes full of 
tears, " we fhall again fee one ano>- 
ther here and hereafter." ,1 could 
fay no more.— Mydearfrieiid,(hould 
fhe have put this qucAion to me, 
juft when the thoughts of a cruel 
feparation filled my heart ? 

" And thofc perfons who have 
been dear to us»" faid Hie, "and who- 



;,,:-flr„G0Ugk 



t -61 ] 

are now no more, do thfy know that 
when we are happy, we recall them 
to our memory with tendernefs ?— 
The fhade of my mother hovers 
round me, when in a ftill evening 
I fit in the midft of her children— 
when I fee them alTemblcd about me, 
as they ufed to be aitembled about 
her ! 1 then raife my fwimming eyes 
to Heaven, and wifli flie could look 
down upon us, and fee that I fulfil 
the promife which I- made to her in 
her laft- moments, to be a mother to 
her children ! A hundred times I 
have exclaimed. Pardon, deareft of. 
mothers ! pardon me^ if I am not to 
them all that you were !— Alas ! I do 
atl that I can -, they are properly 
Vol. I, M cloathed 



t 162 ] 

' cloathed and fed, and ftill mor^ tbey 
are well educated and beloved ! if 
you could behold our mutual attac}>- 
ment, the harmony that fubfifts a- 
mongft us, you would g^w thanks 
to that Being to whonv dying, you 
addrefled fuch fervens prayers, for . 
our happineis." This flw fajd^ qi,y 
dear friend i but who coulii' repeat 
all her words ? how Ihould eold un- 
feeling charaders catch the expreC- 
fioos, of fcntiment and genius ? Al- 
bert gently interrupted her — " My 
charming Charlotte, yoo aw too 
much affeded : I know thefc recol- 
leftions are dear to you, buB I beg—" 
" Oh ! Albert," faid ftie, " you do 
not forget, I know you do noc, obc 
even-. 



[ i63 ] 
evenings when we three, during the 
abfcnce of my father, ufed to fit at 
our little round table, after the chil- 
dren were gone to bed. You often 
had a book in your hand, but you 
feldom read any of it — and who 
would not have preferred the con- 
verfation of that delightftil woman 
to every thifig in the world ? She 
was beautiful, mild, chearfiil, and 
always ailive. God knows how 
often I have knelt before him, and 
prayed that I might be like her." 

I threw myfelf at her feet ■, I took 
her hands, and wetting them with 
my tears, faid, " Charlotte ! Char- 
lotte ! the benediiftion of Heaven is' 
upon you, and the fpirit of your 
M 2 mother." 



[ i64 ] 
mother."—" If you had but knowa 
kcr," Ihefaid, and prelTed my hand"^ 
" flje was worthy of being known to 
you." — I-wasmotionlelsi never had 
I received praife fo flattering. *'And 
this woman was to die in the flower 
of her ^e j the youngeft of her 
children was but fix months old. 
Her illnels was Ihort ; flie was re- 
figned and calm ; nothing gave her 
any anxiety but her children, and 
more particularly the .youngeft. 
"When flic found her end approach- 
ing, fliebade me go and fetch them •, 
and when they were all around her 
bed, the little ones who did not know 
their misfortune, and the great ones 
who were quite overcome .with Ibr- 
row. 



[ >-65 ] 
row, {he raifed her feeble hands to 
Heaven, hung over them, and prayed 
for them, then kifled them one after 
the other, fent them back, and faid to 
me, ** Be you their, mother." I held 
out my hand to her. *' You promife 
much,my child ;,a mother's fondnefs 
and a mother's care. Your tears of 
afiedtion and gratitude have often 
fliewn me that you felt what was a 
mother's tendemefs— rfliew fuch ten- 
dernefs to your brothers and fifters : 
and to your father be dutiful and 
faithful as a wife ; you will be his 
comfort." She aJked for him. He 
. was gone .out to hide the -bitternefs 
of his grief i he felt all that he was to 
lofc, and his heart was in agonies. 

7 "You, 



[ i66 ] 

*' You, Albert, were in the room. 
She heard fomebody move ; alked who 
it was, and dcfircd you to come to 
her. She looked at us both with great 
compofure and fatisfaftion in her 
countenance, and faid, *' They will 
be happy, they will be happy with 
one another !" Albert taking her in 
his arms, cried out, " Yes, Char- 
lotte, we are and ftiall be happy." 
Even the calm Albert was moved i— 
I was quite out of my fcnfcs. 

'* And Tuch a woman," Ihe con- 
tinued, " was to leave us, Werter!— 
Great God ! muft we thus part with 
every thing we hold dear in the 
world? Nobodyfcels this more keenly 
thanchildreii} they cried and lament- 
ed 



[ iS; ] 
ed for i long time afterwards, that 
black men had carried away their 
dear mama I" 

Charlotte got up ■,— it rouzed me 
—but I remained fitting and held her 
hand. " Let us go," faid flic j '* it is 
quite time." , She drew away her 
hand i 1 grafped it ftill clofer. " We 
fliall fee one another again," I faid j 
" we fliall find one another out ; 
uodicr whatever form it is, we fiiall 
know one another. I am going ; ye?, 
I am going of my own accord j but 
if it was for ever, it would be mor^ 
than I could bear. Adieu, Charlotte ! 
adieu, Albert? weftall fee o(fc-ano- 
ther again."—" Yes, to-morrow, 1 
fancy," Ihe added, fmiling. I felt 
the 



I 168 ] 

the word to-tnorrow. Alas! ihe 
Scarcely knev when flie withdrew 
her hand from me.— She went down 
the walk : I ftoo^ and followed her 
with my eye*, then threw myfelf on 
the ground in a pafHbn of tears ; I 
got up again, and ran up to the ter- 
race, and' there I ftill faw» under th<e 
Ihade of the lime-trees, her white 
gown waving near the garden-gate. 
I ftretched out my arms, and Jh'e 
difappcai-ed ! ■ ' 



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