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heart ； and， bereft of all fort， I weep over my future woes。
AUGUST 22。 What a misfortune， Wilhelm！ My active spirits have degenerated
into contented indolence。 I cannot be idle， and yet I am unable to set
to work。 I cannot think ： I have no longer any feeling for the beauties
of nature ， and books are distasteful to me。 Once we give ourselves up，
we are totally lost。 Many a time and oft I wish I were a mon labourer
； that ， awakening in the morning ， I might have but one prospect，
one pursuit ， one hope ， for the day which has dawned。 I often envy
Albert when I see him buried in a heap of papers and parchments ， and
I fancy I should be happy were I in his place。 Often impressed with this
feeling I have been on the point of writing to you and to the minister，
for the appointment at the embassy， which you think I might obtain。 I
believe I might procure it。 The minister has long shown a regard for me，
and has frequently urged me to seek employment。 It is the business of
an hour only。 Now and then the fable of the horse recurs to me。 Weary
of liberty， he suffered himself to be saddled and bridled， and was ridden
to death for his pains。 I know not what to determine upon。 For is not
this anxiety for change the consequence of that restless spirit which
would pursue me equally in every situation of life？
AUGUST 28。 If my ills would admit of any cure ， they would certainly
be cured here。 This is my birthday， and early in the morning I received
a packet from Albert。 Upon opening it ， I found one of the pink ribbons
which Charlotte wore in her dress the first time I saw her， and which
I had several times asked her to give me。 With it were two volumes in
duodecimo of Wetstein's 〃Homer，〃 a book I had often wished for ， to
save me the inconvenience of carrying the large Ernestine edition with
me upon my walks。 You see how they anticipate my wishes ， how well they
understand all those little attentions of friendship， so superior to
the costly presents of the great， which are humiliating。 I kissed the
ribbon a thousand times ， and in every breath inhaled the remembrance
of those happy and irrevocable days which filled me with the keenest joy。
Such， Wilhelm， is our fate。 I do not murmur at it ： the flowers of
life are but visionary。 How many pass away， and leave no trace behind
—— how few yield any fruit—— and the fruit itself ， how rarely does
it ripen！ And yet there are flowers enough ！ and is it not strange，
my friend ， that we should suffer the little that does really ripen，
to rot， decay， and perish unenjoyed ？ Farewell ！ This is a glorious
summer。 I often climb into the trees in Charlotte's orchard ， and shake
down the pears that hang on the highest branches。 She stands below， and
catches them as they fall。
AUGUST 3O。 Unhappy being that I am！ Why do I thus deceive myself ？
What is to e of all this wild， aimless， endless passion？ I cannot
pray except to her。 My imagination sees nothing but her ： all surrounding
objects are of no account ， except as they relate to her。 In this dreamy
state I enjoy many happy hours， till at length I feel pelled to tear
myself away from her。 Ah， Wilhelm， to what does not my heart often pel
me！ When I have spent several hours in her pany ， till I feel pletely
absorbed by her figure， her grace， the divine expression of her thoughts，
my mind bees gradually excited to the highest excess ， my sight grows
dim ， my hearing confused， my breathing oppressed as if by the hand
of a murderer ， and my beating heart seeks to obtain relief for my aching
senses。 I am sometimes unconscious whether I really exist。 If in such
moments I find no sympathy， and Charlotte does not allow me to enjoy
the melancholy consolation of bathing her hand with my tears， I feel
pelled to tear myself from her ， when I either wander through the
country ， climb some precipitous cliff ， or force a path through the
trackless thicket ， where I am lacerated and torn by thorns and briers
； and thence I find relief。 Sometimes I lie stretched on the ground，
overe with fatigue and dying with thirst ； sometimes， late in the
night ， when the moon shines above me， I recline against an aged tree
in some sequestered forest， to rest my weary limbs ， when ， exhausted
and worn， I sleep till break of day。 O Wilhelm ！ the hermit's cell，
his sackcloth ， and girdle of thorns would be luxury and indulgence pared
with what I suffer。 Adieu ！ I see no end to this wretchedness except
the grave。
SEPTEMBER 3。 I must away。 Thank you ， Wilhelm， for determining my
wavering purpose。 For a whole fortnight I have thought of leaving her。
I must away。 She has returned to town ， and is at the house of a friend。
And then， Albert —— yes， I must go。
SEPTEMBER 1O。 Oh， what a night ， Wilhelm！ I can henceforth bear
anything。 I shall never see her again。 Oh ， why cannot I fall on your
neck， and， with floods of tears and raptures， give utterance to all
the passions which distract my heart！ Here I sit gasping for breath，
and struggling to pose myself。 I wait for day， and at sunrise the
horses are to be at the door。
And she is sleeping calmly， little suspecting that she has seen me
for the last time。 I am free。 I have had the courage， in an interview
of two hours' duration， not to betray my intention。 And O Wilhelm， what
a conversation it was ！
Albert had promised to e to Charlotte in the garden immediately
after supper。 I was upon the terrace under the tall chestnut trees， and
watched the setting sun。 I saw him sink for the last time beneath this
delightful valley and silent stream。 I had often visited the same spot
with Charlotte， and witnessed that glorious sight； and now—— I was
walking up and down the very avenue which was so dear to me。 A secret
sympathy had frequently drawn me thither before I knew Charlotte； and
we were delighted when， in our early acquaintance， we discovered that
we each loved the same spot ， which is indeed as romantic as any that
ever captivated the fancy of an artist。
From beneath the chestnut trees ， there