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SORROWS OF WERTER
GOETHE .

ASSELI'S
NATIONAL
LIBRARY
D
30 3.
EDITED BY PROFESSOR HENRY MORLEY

000000000000
CASSELL'S NATIONAL LIBRARY.
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‫م‬
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34
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35 North-West Passage RICHARD HAKLUYT
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246.51 /36

THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

80/24196
 CASSELL'S NATIONAL LIBRARY .

THE

SORROWS OF WERTER.

FROM THE GERMAN OF

GOETHE.

CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED :

LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK & MELBOURNE.
1890.
 Bayerische
Staatsbibliothek
München
 INTRODUCTION .

JOHANN WOLFGANG GOETHE was born at Frankfort-

on-the-Main on the 28th of August, 1749. Goethe's
father, the son of a poor tailor who had married twice
and acquired some property, was a dry and formal
man, who had become an imperial councillor, and
steadily increased in wealth. He was thirty-nine years
old at the time of the poet's birth. But Goethe's
mother, then eighteen years old, was a busy, cheerful
woman, with the nature of an artist, and she became the
comrade of her son. " I and my Wolfgang," she said,
" have always held fast to each other, because we were
both young together." There were five other children,
of whom only one survived the years of childhood.
That was Goethe's sister, Cornelia, sixteen months
younger than himself. Of the other four, the longest-
lived did not attain the age of seven. That was a
little brother, Hermann Jacob, third child of the
family, who died when Goethe was in his tenth year.
Goethe shed no tears, because he believed his brother
to be in heaven. When he was asked whether he did
not love his brother, since he was not seen to lament
his loss, he dragged from under a bed a heap of papers,
6 INTRODUCTION .

and said, " I had written all these that I might teach
them to him." The French were at that time in
Frankfort ; the lieutenant of the King of France was
quartered on the Goethes, but young Goethe had
made Frederick the Great his hero. The boy wrote,
studied, was familiar in the studios of artists, and in
the Jews' quarter learnt mysteries of arts in which the
Jews excelled. Before he was fifteen he was deeply
in love with a girl older than himself, who only saw in
him a loving child. He was, in the main, home bred,
with good teaching and ample range for the develop-
ment of native power, before he went, at the age of
sixteen, to learn law in the University of Leipsic.
At Leipsic Goethe, who was singularly handsome,
studied and idled, dreamed, had his ideal raised, and
burnt his boyish poems ; fell in love again, had his
love returned, became fantastic, teased the damsel with
distrust, lost her, and turned his experiences into
verse-Die Laune des Verliebten . Like others in his
day, he took a dark view of the world, planned gloomy
plays, and wrote one, Die Mitschuldigen (The Com-
panions in Guilt). He studied art and made a secret
trip to Dresden to see pictures. He learnt to engrave.
He had been seized with hæmorrhage when he went
home again from Leipsic to Frankfort in September,
1768, the year before the publication, at Leipsic, of
twenty songs of his which had been set to music by a
Leipsic bookseller. At home there were months of
illness ; there was conflict with a dissatisfied father,
against whom he found his sister Cornelia rebelling ;
 INTRODUCTION . 7

therewas sentimental correspondence and erratic study ;

his best help coming from the trustful mother by his
side.

In April, 1770, Goethe went to Strasburg, where he

was to graduate as Doctor of Laws. There he came
into sentimental complication with the two daughters
of his French dancing-master; read the life of Goetz
von Berlichingen ; tried studies of natural science, and
made the acquaintance of Herder, five years older than
himself . From Herder's calmer spirit he learnt much.
Goethe afterwards ascribed great influence upon his
artistic life to Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield, first
published in 1766, with which Herder first made him
acquainted. Then he fell in love with Frederika,
daughter, aged sixteen, of a country pastor at Sesen-
heim, sixteen miles from Strasburg. To him this was
all empty emotion, common in those days throughout
France and Germany, and spreading into England as a
distemper that killed nobody until it blended with
brute forces of the Revolution that sent victims with
exultation to the guillotine, and wept with empty sym-
pathy over the hero of a chance reprieve. Goethe
caught also an enthusiasm for Shakespeare, and began
his play Goetz von Berlichingen .
In August, 1771, he had graduated as Doctor of
Law and went home to begin practical training in law,
but began rather to write literature in a literary
journal of his town, the Frankfurter Gelehrten Anzei-
gen. In 1772 he finished Goetz von Berlichingen, a
play that has for its hero one of the old predatory
8 INTRODUCTION .

chiefs who issued from their castles upon whom they

would, defied the emperor, and knew no law but their
own will. Authority was then fast falling into contempt.
In literature the spirit of Nationalitywas being strongly
opposed to formal Classicism, and Goetz, as a play,
followed rather the free spirit of Shakespeare than the
unities which the French critics upheld. In the days
of tumultuous thought, when the absolute savage was
supposed by many to be a truer man than the best
modern courtier, Goetz, as a hero, was drawn from an
old national life, and glorified a savage independence.
The play is alive with all the eager spirit of youth, and
abounds with vigorous hits at the conventions of its
time.
In the same year, 1772, Goethe went to get ex-
perience in the practice of the law at Wetzlar. He
followed his one bent freely, and there " fell in love "
with another girl of sixteen, Charlotte Ruff, who kept
house for her father and the younger children, since
her mother was dead, and who had been betrothed
two years before to Kastner, the Secretary to the
Hanoverian Legation. This is the beloved who was
sentimentalised into the Charlotte of Werter. The
original Charlotte was as true to her own ties as the
Charlotte of the story; and Goethe broke away, in
September, 1772, from the fascination, with much
real emotion and high undetermined purpose for the
future.

He went home and worked at law, re-wrote part of

his Goetz, wrote in the Frankfurter Gelehrten An-
 INTRODUCTION . 9

zeigen, and published Goetz von Berlichingen in the

summer of 1773. The play had immediate success, and
Goethe then began the Sorrows of Werter. This was
at the time when Charlotte married. When it was
finished, in September, 1774, Goethe sent a copy of this
tale to Charlotte Kastner, née Ruff, with a tender
note, saying, " I wish each to read it alone-thou alone
-Kastner alone and each to write me a little word
about it. Lotte, adieu Lotte ! " Again there was the
tumult of the time, impatience of all formal authority,
wild outbreak of the emotional life so long repressed,
and an expression of it so complete and genuine that

wethe
the publication of Werter, in October, 1774, made

Essay
Goethe widely famous. There was what Carlyle called
" vehement acceptance " of the book. " That nameless

on.
unrest," he says, " the blind struggle of a soul in
bondage, that high and longing discontent which was
agitating every bosom, had driven Goethe almost to
despair. All felt it ; he alone could give it voice.
And here lies the secret of his popularity ; in his deep
susceptive heart he felt a thousand times more keenly
what every one was feeling ; with the creative gift
which belonged to him as a poet, he bodied it forth
into visible shape, gave it a local habitation and a
name ; and so made himself the spokesman of his
generation. Werter is but the cry of that dim, rooted
pain under which all thoughtful men of a certain age
were languishing ; it paints the misery, it passionately
utters the complaint ; and heart and voice all over
Europe loudly and at once respond to it." Kastner's
10 INTRODUCTION .

true prophecy of the author of a book which deeply

vexed him was, " when his great fire has somewhat
burnt itself out we shall all have the greatest joy in him."
Out of the tumults of a youth sensitive to every im-
pression from the world without, came the repose of
the great artist; the calm of a mind that has reached,
through battle, to the crowning peace.
H. M.
THE TRANSLATOR TO THE READER
1802.

Few are unacquainted with the history of Werter :

the celebrity which attended its first publication
naturally excited the curiosity of distant readers,
and consequently produced several translations of
it, both in England and France. In England,
Werter has appeared in a variety of dresses, but
the clothing seldom corresponded with the original.
This may be easily accounted for it was translated
from the French, by some who were unacquainted
with the German language ; and having lost a con-
siderable portion of its spirit by the first change,
we may naturally conclude that it entirely evapo-
rated in the second. Others have literally trans-
lated it from the original ; but in this close ad-
herence we find more puerility than simplicity,
more folly than pathos ! Of the former translators,
it must be observed that, though English scholars,
yet from their ignorance of the German language,
and being consequently obliged to refer to another
translation of the work, they have in many parts
perverted the meaning, and given Werter a dress
12 TO THE READER .

that is not his own ; and of the latter, their being

unacquainted with the English idiom has rendered
them incapable of conveying the original meaning
to the English reader this half-dress makes our
hero appear more the subject of mirth than of pity.
From these preliminary remarks the present
translation may be thought to come from the pen
of one who is well acquainted with both lan-
guages ; but, in truth, it is the production of Two
persons. Frederick Gotzberg is a native of
Germany, had some knowledge of Werter's family,
and ranks foremost among the literati of his
country. How far this admired German history
has been rendered an affecting English tale must
be left to the decision of a candid and impartial
public.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

LETTER I.
May 4, 1770.
I REJOICE at our separation-yet I own it was
surprising how I could bear to leave the man who
was the dear companion of my youth, and is still
my second self-the man whose disposition and
qualifications so correspond with my own ; alas !
the human heart is unaccountable-it seeks repose
where there is none. I am sure you will forgive
me. Fate seems to have destined all the other con-
nections, which I had formed as the basis of
happiness, the very sources of affliction ! Poor
Leonora ! But sure I am innocent of the tender
passion that took possession of her yielding heart,
when I avowed my admiration of her sister's
charms ; and yet-'tis doubtful if indeed I am
innocent. Might I not have increased her flame
when I evinced my superlative delight in all the
little expressions of her affection ? Oh, man, how
industrious thou art to torment thyself with
imaginary evils ! But fear not, my friend ! I
14 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

will endeavour to overcome this moroseness, and

instead of taking a retrospect of past sufferings, and
repining at those griefs which are incident to life,
will consign them all to oblivion, and enjoy the
present moment ! 'Tis my friend's advice, and it
is just for mankind in general render themselves
doubly wretched by the painful recollection of the
wretched scenes they have endured.
You may tell my mother that I will pay every
due attention to her business, of which she shall be
soon informed. My aunt, with whom I have con-
versed, is far from being that unreasonable woman
she has been reported. Her passions are strong,
but her heart is good. Respecting my mother's
estate, which has been so long withheld from her,
she has sufficiently exculpated herself, and, on
certain conditions which she has named, is willing
to give up- even more than was desired. Assure
my mother that I am certain this affair will
be settled to her satisfaction. From this trifling
circumstance, my friend, I am convinced that mis-
understanding and inattention create more uneasi-
ness in the world than deception or artifice, or at
least that their consequences are more universal.
My situation here is truly agreeable. In this
terrestrial paradise I find that healing balm of
troubled minds, sweet solitude, which has ever been
the joy of the wretched ! The delightful spring
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 15

expands my heart, and invigorates my frame. All

nature rejoices in every tree-in every field-the
air is filled with fragrance-the feathered songsters
hail the morning, and in the evening Philomel
tunes a requiem to the retiring day. How different
the town and country. In this city there are no
charms for me, but in its environs there are the
greatest beauties, those of Nature ! On one of the
hills which add to these rural scenes is the simply
elegant garden of the late Marquis of Mobley, which,
at first sight, must convince us that native taste
has superseded professional skill, and that not a
mere gardener, but a man of feeling, has been the
chief cultivator. To the memory of its departed
owner I have shed some tears on a tomb in an
arbour, now almost in ruins, and lately deserted.
This formerly was his favourite retreat, as now it is
mine ; and soon, I trust, I shall be his successor,
having already procured the favour of the gardener,
whose services I shall still be careful to retain.
16 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER II .
May 10.
How great is the tranquillity of my mind, now
calm and serene as the morning spring, which
renders this solitude so sweet ! Here alone, in a
country formed for hearts like mine, I now begin to
live ; so many delightful relaxations this solitude
affords, that life seems at present a greater pleasure
than action ; for I neglect my studies, and renounce
all my former amusements. I have laid aside the
pencil, yet am still a better painter than ever !
While the mist bespangles the branches of my vale
with watery gems ; while defended by surrounding
trees from the mid-day sun, a few of whose pene-
trating rays serve as a glimmer in my favourite
sanctuary, I sometimes take a pensive walk beneath
the shady arches ; then, extending myself on the high
grass, near the border of the murmuring brook, I
admire the great varieties of Nature-the thousand
little plants-the thousand little insects which in-
habit them these, once beneath my notice, now
rivet my attention —now convince me of that divine
power which has created us, and whose eternal
providence supports us ! When darkness closes
the scene, I call to mind all I have beheld-the
wonders of the universe-and the impressions, like
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 17

the picture of a favourite mistress, fills me with

secret joy that frequently breaks forth in pious
ejaculation. Oh, my friend ! I would that expres-
sion was adequate to my conception, that I could
indite all that I feel, but in vain ; words cannot
reach such awful ideas, their sublimity overpowers
and astonishes !

‫جم‬

LETTER III .
May 12.
EITHER some invisible power of enchantment or the
influence of livelysensibility renders every surround-
ing spot as heavenly as Elysium. Some irresistible
charm attaches me here to a spring of clear water,
which gushes from the rock, in a cave at the bottom
of a hill, descending about twenty steps. The rustic
wall which forms the enclosure, the lofty pines
which overshadow it, the refreshing breeze, the
murmuring of the water, the tuneful notes of the
sweet tenants of the branches-all-all combine to
inspire the mind with the most sublime sensations.
Every day I pass an hour in this enchanting place.
Here come the young maidens from the town to
draw water ; innocent and useful occupation ! in
which even kings' daughters formerly took delight.
My imagination now forms all the manners of
}
18 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

remote times. Methinks I witness our ancestors

under the supposed influence of good spirits con-
cluding treaties and making alliances by the foun-
tain side. Methinks I see the poor pilgrim, over-
come with the summer's heat, here resting on the
bank, or bathing and refreshing himself in the
crystal stream. Sure, my friend, that man has
never enjoyed the cooling beverage of a spring,
after a long summer's walk, whose feelings and
thoughts are not congenial with mine.

LETTER IV.
May 13.
SEND me books ! No, my dear friend. I sincerely
thank you for your kind intention, but earnestly
request you to decline it. I have been so long
guided, agitated, inflamed, that I am now desirous
to be free, and enjoy my own ideas. I only wish
for soothing strains, and these I have in Homer.
Oft have I endeavoured to calm my raging blood,
to check the violent passions of my heart ; but
need I inform my friend of these emotions ? You
know you have witnessed many sudden transitions ;
you have seen me now pensively sad, then mad
with joy, now softly dejected, then turbulently
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 19

agitated. This heart is like an indisposed infant,

which I must indulge,but let it not be known ; the
world would censure this weakness, and reproach
the man who could sacrifice reason to his passions.

LETTER V.
May 15.
THE Common people here, particularly the little
children, already know and love me ; yet when I
first began to talk to them, they doubted my sin-
cerity, and behaved rather rudely. I was not,
however, too proud to court their favour, and soon
verified an observation I had often made, that
characters of high rank are too apt to keep their
inferiors at a distance, as if their approaches could
possibly diminish their dignity. But what arro-
gance-what ignorance does that NOBLE gentleman
evince, who can condescend at times to be affable
with a commoner, and at other times neglect and
despise him ! This life will not admit of equality
-but surely that man who thinks he derives con-
sequence and respect from keeping others at a dis-
tance, is as base-minded as the coward, who shuns
the enemy for fear of an attack.
One day that I visited the fountain, I perceived
20 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

a young woman on the lowest step, with her pail

beside her, anxiously waiting for the assistance of
one of her companions to place it on her head.
Immediately I accosted her : " Give me leave, my
dear, to help it on." She blushed, and modestly re-
plied, " Oh, no, sir;" but I waived all ceremony, and
helped her to lift the pail ; she thanked me with a
smile, and I was amply rewarded with the pleasure
I received.

LETTER VI .
May 17.
I HAVE already formed a numerous acquaintance,
but am still destitute of society. I know not why
the inhabitants of the place are so attached to me,
but they are ever anxious to join me in my walks,
and I feel regret when I am obliged to part with
them. You ask what sort of people they are ?
I answer, such as you may find everywhere.
Nature's work is always the same, but fortune
makes the difference. The major part of mankind
is obliged to devote the greatest portion of their
lives to labour, and that for a scanty subsistence,
while the remainder of their time seems so irksome
that they are industrious to get rid of it ; such is
the fate of mortals ! I am, however, much pleased
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 21

with my new acquaintance. What ? though the

proud may say Iforget myself, I can assure them
that I enjoy myself when seated at the cheerful
table, where both hospitality and good humour
preside ; when a walk, a dance, or some other
amusement may be proposed, that happily accords
with my disposition. True, I am sometimes obliged
to conceal myself, lest conscious of their inferiority
they may be shy of me. This indeed is a check
upon my pleasure ; then the remembrance of my
departed friend occurs, the friend of my youth,
whom I have only known but to bewail ; ah !
painful recollection, she is gone ! gone before me
to the grave, and now the world is to me a wilder-
ness-but, no more of this...... A few days
ago I met with the accomplished Mr. B—-—,
a young man with a pleasing countenance. He
has just left the university of Upsala, but makes
no empty parade of his learning, though he must
be conscious of his superiority to many with whom
he associates. His application, however, appears
to have been greater than his genius. He paid me
a visit when informed of my knowledge of Greek
and taste for drawing, which are reckoned prodigies
in this country ; and during conversation displayed
his whole stock of learning, and the authors whom
he had studied ; he said he had read all the first
part of Saltzer's Theory, and had in his possession a
22 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

manuscript of Heynes on the Study of Antiquities ;

his company was entertaining. I have also become
acquainted with another worthy character, who is
steward to the prince, and whose generous dis-
position and noble spirit entitle him to universal
esteem. He has nine children, and, I am told, it
is a delightful scene to behold him when surrounded
with his family. Theeldest daughter is highly spoken
of. He has given me an invitation to his house,
and I shall certainly take the first opportunity of
paying my personal respects. He lives about the
distance of a league and a half, in a hunting lodge,
which the prince gave him on the death of his be-
loved wife, as his former residence was on that
account too melancholy for him. I have also met
with some ridiculous characters, as disgusting as
the others are agreeable ; they have forced them-
selves into my company, have rendered themselves
absolutely rude by over-politeness, and absurd by
unsolicited professions.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 23

LETTER VII.
May 22.
THIS life, they say, is a dream, and I am apt to
think so too, when I contemplate the narrow limits
which confine the active spirit of man, when I con-
sider that all his powers are exercised for mere
sustenance, in order to prolong a wretched existence ;
that his seeming concern with respect to certain
inquiries is but a blind resignation, and that his
great delight is to paint upon the walls of his
prison delusive figures and false landscapes, though
the boundaries of his confinement are still before
his eyes-when these thoughts arise, Oh, my friend !
I am silenced, I begin to meditate deeper, to search
the heart, and what is the result ? More visionary
shadows, more vain superstition and empty imagi-
nation, than conviction, reality, and truth. All
seems confusion, yet the current which hurries
others through this stream of folly drives me along,
and I also add to the number of dreaming fools.
The learned agree, that children act without motive ;
but that the great children, as when little ones,
wander through life, equally ignorant of both their
origin and distinction, and without any plausible
rules for their conduct, except the hope of reward
or dread of punishment (or guided like them by a
24 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

cake or a rod), is a position the learned cannot

agree to, though, in my opinion, a palpable truth.
I anticipate what my friend will say in reply, and
am ready to acknowledge, that they are indeed the
most happy who, like children, never think of to-
morrow, but amuse themselves for the present
moment with playthings and feasts, cry for what
they want, and when that is given by indulgent
mamma, cry for more. Happy beings, whom
trifles can content ; and some indeed are to be
envied, whose gratifications are fully answered by
the possession of paltry dignities and empty titles !
who think themselves gods among men, the LORDS
of the universe ! That man, however, who, con-
scious of his own nothingness, perceives the folly
of all this, with true dignity of mind remarks, that
both the rich, who are proudly endeavouring to
make this world their heaven, and the poor who,
humbly toiling through life, for the sake of living,
are equally anxious for a longer view of that scene,
under whose influence they are so unequally sup-
ported. He may be at peace, he may be happy, in
the title of a man, he knows his sphere is limited,
but his mind is deeply impressed with the con-
solatory idea of liberty, which assures him, that
when confinement is insupportable, he has a key
in his possession that can open his prison door.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER 25

LETTER VIII .
May 26.
You know my attachment to particular places,
my partiality for solitary retreats, and the delight
I take in arranging those scenes, and rendering
them agreeable to my humour. I have found a
cot here, which agrees exactly with my wishes ; it
is about a league's distance from the city, in the
district of Walheim, situate upon the side of a
delightful hill, which commands a view of the
whole adjacent country ; here is likewise a good
old landlady, an original character, to supply me
with wine, beer, coffee, and tea-but what most
delights me here are two lime-trees before the
church, which overshadow, with their extending
branches, the little lawn that is delightfully
surrounded with several rural habitations. You
cannot conceive a situation more sequestered and
pleasant-I send to the good old lady for a table
and chair, and here in sweet seclusion take my
coffee and read Homer. Accident led me to this
place, hitherto deserted, during an afternoon's
ramble. It was a fine day-the peasants were
abroad at their labour, and only a little boy, about
four years of age, was sitting on the ground
nursing a child about six months old ; he clasped
26 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

the infant to his breast, and then with his little

arms made a seat for it, and though his sparkling
black eyes strayed about the green he still retained
his position, unwilling to disturb his little charge.
So delighted with this scene of innocence and
affection, I seated myself upon an opposite plough,
and with the most exquisite satisfaction sketched
with my pencil this interesting picture of fraternal
tenderness. I added the casual situation of an
adjacent hedge, a barn-door, and some irregular
implements of husbandry, and found, in the course
of an hour, that I had produced a drawing of
infinite expression and consummate design, with-
out calling any invention to my assistance. This
confirmed my former resolution of adhering to
nature, for though simple, she is inexhaustible.
She can always furnish the painter and poet with
new subjects, and enhance the value of their pro-
ductions. The arguments for rules are as weak as
those which are urged in favour of the laws of
society. An artist, guided by method, will, I
grant, never produce anything very bad or dis-
gusting, no more than the man who, under the
restriction of the law and the regulation of educa-
tion, can act offensive to the community or to his
neighbour ; but let men say what they will in de-
fence of rules, they tend to destroy and cramp the
true features and genuine expressions of nature.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 27

But you will tell me, perhaps, that they prune the
exuberant branches, and prevent deformities ; I
must still insist that they are restraints to genius,
and that the loss of those beauties which they
destroy is by no means a compensation for the
errors they correct. Compare genius with love ;
let us, my friend, suppose that a youth, sincerely
attached to a young lady, devotes to her every
thought, pays her every attention, exerts every
effort, uses every resource to convince her that she
is the sole object of his affection ; then comes a
philosopher, perhaps one of high repute, and gives
his advice : " My young friend, love is a passion
springs from nature, but must be kept within due
bounds. The best part of your time should be
employed in the pursuits of life, and only your
leisure hours be devoted to your mistress. Let
your presents be according to your income, and
those also at stated periods." Should the youth
be capable of taking this prudent advice, his under-
standing may meet with general approbation, but
his love is a mere shadow. Thus is the painter
circumscribed by rules : he may be correct, but he
can never be animated. Genius is a torrent,
whose impetuous waves would burst forth, to the
astonishment of all, but that some artful men,
who have taken possession of the shores, by their
counteracting influence prevent their course.
28 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

Here they have erected buildings and planted

gardens, but, awed by the superiority of others,
they are obliged to defend their methodical work
with trenches and dams, and shut out merit to
save themselves from ruin !

LETTER IX .
May 21 .
SEDUCED by the fantastic humour I was in for
metaphors and declamation, I totally forgot in
my last to finish the narrative I intended to give
you. Full two hours I sat upon the plough, seized
with those picturesque ideas with which my letter
abounded. A young woman with a basket on her
arm came towards evening to look after the
children, who were still in the same situation.
" Philip," she cried out, from some distance, “ you
are a good boy." Having then perceived me, I
advanced towards her, and inquired if these sweet
children were hers ? she answered in the affirmative.
She then rewarded the elder with a cake, and
taking the younger up in her arms kissed it with
true maternal affection. " Sir," said she, “ I en-
trusted this little one to Philip's care while I went
to town with my other son to purchase some
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 29

bread, sugar, and this earthen pot, to make soup

for the young child's supper, for my eldest rogue
broke the pipkin yesterday as he was quarrelling
with Philip about some pudding that was in it."
I then inquired where the other son was, and
while she was informing me that he was driving
home a few geese across the meadow, he appeared,
skipping along, and bringing his brother a hazel
switch. During our conversation, I understood
that she was the schoolmaster's daughter, of the
village, and that her husband, on the death of his
uncle, was gone to Holland to recover an estate ;
" for," added she, " his letters on the subject
were never answered, and apprehensive of some
foul play he thought his presence necessary, and I
have not heard from him since his departure." I
1 was sorry to leave this good woman, and gave her a
creutzer to buy a cake for the little one, and to
the boys I gave another ; we then parted. Indeed,
my friend, there is nothing that can calm the
ruffled mind so much as the sight of such a happy
T mortal, who, in the contracted circle of her exist-
ence, moves with a sweet serenity, and regardless of
the past and future, is wholly intent upon the
present ; each revolving day passes without any
emotion, and the falling leaves impress her with
no other idea than that of the approaching winter.
I have since frequently visited the same place,
30 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

and am now quite familiar with the children.

When drinking my coffee they have a piece of
sugar, and at night I give them a share of my
whey and bread and butter. Every Sunday I
present them a creutzer, and should I be engaged
at prayers the landlady has my orders to pay it.
I have already engaged their confidence-they
communicate to me all their secrets and wants,
and charm me with their innocence, particularly
when their little playfellows are with them. At
first their mother was fearful they intruded, but I
assured her to the contrary, and with some difficulty
prevailed on her to give them their way, and let
them enjoy themselves.

LETTER X.
May 30.
My former sentiments on painting may be equally
applied to poetry : the chief requisites are a know-
ledge of the beautiful, and a proper mode of ex-
pression. This day has produced a scene which
would make an admirable subject for an eclogue.
But why poetical descriptions and pastorals ?
Must every wonder of nature be told in verse or
measure ?
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 31

Should you from this introduction expect some-

thing very sublime, you will find yourself dis-
appointed : these lively sensations have only been
occasioned by a rustic. As is my custom, I shall
delineate it imperfectly ; notwithstanding, as is my
friend's custom, you will say that the picture is
over-coloured that it is all a romance of Wal-
heim ! It was agreed upon by a party of that
village to come and drink coffee under the lime-
trees. Not approving of the company, I apologised
for my absence. The plough, which lately em-
ployed my pencil, having been damaged, a youth,
who belonged to the neighbourhood, was busy in
repairing it. Pleased with his manners, I entered
into conversation with him, and in a short time.
won his confidence. On inquiring about his
circumstances, he said that his mistress, of whom
he spoke very highly, was a widow. His service I
easily perceived was no slavery. He intimated
that she was advanced in years, and having been
unkindly treated by her husband, was determined
never to marry again. During his narrative, there
were so many fond expressions which evinced his
hopes-his wishes to make her amends for the
matrimonial unhappiness she had experienced-that
a detail would be absolutely necessary, in order to
convey a just picture of his affection ; but I must
be inspired with poetic fire indeed to paint the
32 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

looks which accompanied his words. Description

is in vain ; my friend may conceive what to relate
I find impossible.
On confessing his attachment he betrayed no
small embarrassment for the lady's reputation ;
and fearful that I might doubt the propriety of
her conduct, in strains of genuine affection (of
which the recollection still is delightful) he ex-
patiated on her accomplishments, and declared
that, notwithstanding she had lost her youth, she
still retained all her former beauty. Such real
love I never before witnessed-it was the passion
of an honest heart. Deride me not, my friend,
when I acknowledge I was charmed with such
unexampled tenderness and constancy. I was so
impressed with his innocent declarations, that I
sometimes think myself inspired with the love that
he professed. I will take an early opportunity of
seeing this admired lady ; yet to avoid her may
probably be more prudent. Those charms, so bright
in representation, may vanish when they are seen.
I may not have her lover's eyes, though now I
possess his thoughts, then shall I lose the Beauties of
Imagination ; nor enjoy the satisfaction which I
feel at present.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 33

LETTER XI .
May 30.
" WHY not write to you ? " Are you wise, and
ask such a simple question ? You well might
have supposed that I was happy-that-in short,
that I had met with another, dearer friend that I
had met I cannot tell whom-
To give you a circumstantial account how I be-
came acquainted with the most divine of her sex
would be a difficult task. I am happy, happy
beyond expression, and therefore unfit for a

narrator .

She is an angel-a goddess ; but these are titles,

you will say, which every lover gives his mistress.
Oh, she is all perfection ; but I cannot describe
that perfection, nor can I even tell how much I am
charmed with it.
Such simplicity united with the clearest compre-
hension, such placidness with such animation,
such serenity, such spirits ; but these are poor
phrases to convey a true idea of her character-a
future time-but no, the present time, for I may
never have another opportunity. To tell the truth,
since I began to write I have repeatedly resolved
to lay aside the pen and haste to meet her. This
morning I had determined to stay at home ;
B-36
34 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

nevertheless, I have been continually at the win-

dow to see if the sun be rising.
In vain my resolutions to the contrary. I have
been to visit her-yes, my friend, I have just
returned : and now, while seated at my breakfast,
shall resume my pen. Oh, how delightful it was
to see her with her sweet little brothers and
sisters ; to see her . But if I thus continue,
you will be just as wise when I have finished as
when I begun. I must endeavour to correct these
wanderings, and give the whole account with regu-
larity ; therefore beg your attention.
In a former letter I mentioned my acquaintance
with the prince's steward, and the general invita-
tion he gave me to his little kingdom, as I may
justly term his present retirement. Somehow I
postponed my intended visit so long, that probably
I should never have paid it, had not mere accident
discovered the treasure which this secluded spot
concealed. At the request of some of the young
inhabitants of the town, I had consented to make
one at a fête champêtre, and had engaged a young
lady for my partner, who boasted some share of
beauty, and was agreeable, though nothing extra-
ordinary. It was agreed that I should take my
partner, and a relation of hers, in a coach, and in
our way call for Charlotte, who had also promised her
company at the ball. While driving up the avenue
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 35

which leads to the steward's house, my partner

observed that I should now have an opportunity of
seeing a very fine girl. " I shall introduce you, sir."
"Ah, but," rejoined her relative, " you must beware
of her charms. " " For what reason ? " I asked. " She
is already engaged," answered my partner, " and
to a very deserving youth, who, on the sudden
death of his father, is gone to settle his affairs, and
also to make interest for a situation at Court." I
was indifferent to all this, my friend ; for since the
loss of Leonora, no woman had hitherto met
with my attention. When we had reached the
house, the sun was sunk behind the tops of the
mountains : it became exceedingly sultry, and
heavy clouds, which were gathering on the horizon,
portended a storm. The ladies immediately caught
the alarm, and expressed strong apprehensions that
their promised pleasure would meet with some
interruption. To remove their fears for the present,
I assumed an air of gravity, and declaring a perfect
knowledge of the atmosphere, assured them it
would be nothing of any consequence. I now
alighted, and a servant came to request us to wait
a moment for her mistress. Having crossed the
court which leads to this retired habitation, I
ascended some steps, and entering the hall, beheld
six sweet children (the eldest about eleven, and the
youngest about two years old) all frisking round a
36 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

young lady of middling stature, but most elegant

form, dressed in a plain white gown, with pale pink
ribbons. She had a loaf in her hand, and was cut-
ting bread and butter for the little ones, giving
them all proportional pieces, in the most graceful
and affectionate manner. Each held up its little
hand for the piece while it was cutting, then cried,
" Thank you, thank you," and ran to the door to
see the company and the coach which was to carry
away their Charlotte. On seeing me she politely
apologised for her delay. " I am very sorry, sir,
you should have the trouble to alight, and that I
should thus detain the ladies, but the hurry
of dressinghad made me quite forget some domestic
arrangements, and the children are not content
with their supper but when they receive it from
me. " I made some reply, I forget what it was ; I
was transported with her address, her voice, her
manner ; and had just recovered from my astonish-
ment, when she ran into another apartment for
her fan and gloves. During her absence the little
ones were stealing a look at me, and whispering
together. I immediately approached the youngest,
whose countenance is truly expressive : but the
little fellow was avoiding me, when Charlotte, who
now returned, said to him, " Come, Lewis, don't be
afraid of your cousin." He then gave me his hand
readily, and I gave him a kiss heartily. " Cousin,"
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 37

I repeated, while leading her to the carriage. “ Do

you then consider me worthy the honour of being
related to you ? " " Oh, sir, " she replied, with a
significant smile, " I have several cousins, and
should be sorry if you were the most undeserving
of the group." When she was departing, she bid
Sophia, the eldest girl, to take care of the children ,
and to stay with her father as soon as he came
home. She then bid the little ones to pay as
much attention to Sophia as they would to her,
which they readily promised, except a smart little
girl, about six years old, who poutingly said, " But
sister Sophia is not sister Charlotte ; we must love
sister Charlotte better." In the meantime the
two eldest boys had climbed up behind the coach,
and Charlotte, at my request, permitted them to
accompany us to the end of the forest, on condition
that they would behave quietly, and keep their
places ; but we had scarcely seated ourselves, and
the ladies paid their mutual compliments, when
Charlotte stopped the coach, and mildly entreated
her brothers to descend. They begged leave to
kiss her hand on parting, which the eldest did with
all the affection of a boy of fifteen, and the youngest
with as much tenderness as bespoke his years.
She bid them remember her to the rest, and we
then drove on. The lady who was related to my
partner now inquired of Charlotte, how she liked
38 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

the last book she had sent her ? To which she

replied, " It meets with as little of my approbation
as did the former which you were pleased to lend
me, and therefore shall return it immediately. " I
asked the title of it, and was surprised when she
mentioned " The Castle of Otranto." In every-
thing she said she evinced consummate judgment
and penetration-every word was intelligent, every
look was expressive ; and her countenance seemed
to derive additional lustre from the satisfaction she
felt when I joined in her opinion. " In my early
days," she said, " romances gave me infinite delight.
My greatest pleasure on a Sunday afternoon was
to retire to some secret apartment, and read one of
those extraordinary narratives. This relish for the
improbable soon abated, and the domestic became
more suited to my taste. I found myself interested
in either the success or misfortune of my heroine,
and am still delighted with such novels as " Grandi-
son " and " Clarissa Harlowe." I have not much
leisure now for reading ; therefore the little that I
do read generally consists of those scenes of life to
which I am accustomed. I give the preference to
those authors who follow nature, and remind me of
those domestic delights-those affectionate scenes
which I experience in my own family. "
Iwas in raptures with the justice of her remarks,
and found it difficult to conceal my emotions ;
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 39

my heart was on fire, and I fear the flame will

shortly consume me. She then delivered her
opinion of other works, particularly " The Vicar of
Wakefield," with so much pithiness and discern-
ment, that my eagerness in coinciding with her
must certainly have been noticed ; but she alone
engrossed my attention, and I was insensible of
any other company in the coach. Charlotte, how-
ever, directed her conversation to the ladies, one
of whom, my partner's relative, glanced a few
significant looks at me, which were plain indica-
tions of her suspicions, but of which I took little
notice.
Dancing became the next subject, when Char-
lotte observed, " That though it was an amusement
which several condemned, still she was particularly
partial to it. If her mind was ruffled by any
casual uneasiness, she immediately repaired to her
harpsichord, and by playing over a few country
dances soon recovered her serenity." Good
heaven ! when she spoke, how my eyes were
riveted ! The harmony of her voice rendered me
almost insensible of the words ; I was lost in ad-
miration of her sparkling eyes and graceful
demeanour. When the coach stopped I alighted
in a delirium, and absolutely found myself sur-
rounded by all the company in the assembly room
before I was conscious that I had entered it.
40 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

Charlotte and the other lady had been escorted by

their partners, who were waiting to receive them
at the door, when I, of course, handed in the lady
who was under my protection. The ball com-
menced with minuets. I engaged one lady after
another, and observed that the most awkward and
ordinary were the most desirous to prolong them.
Charlotte and her partner began a country dance,
and, my friend, you cannot imagine the delight I
felt when she came to perform the figure with me.
Could you but see her dance ! She possesses all
that vivacity and ease which are so essential ; her
figure is graceful and elegant, her motions light
and regular.
I would have engaged her for the second dance,
but she politely assured me that she had been pre-
engaged, and generously promised me her hand for
the third, at the same time informing me with
agreeable frankness that she was particularly fond
of allemandes. " It is fashionable here," said she,
" for every couple to dance an allemande, but my
partner is not accustomed to them, and wishes to
be excused, and I know the lady with whom you
dance is equally averse to them. I am convinced,
from the manner of your dancing, you are suffi-
ciently capable of an allemande, and, if agreeable,
you shall propose it to my partner, and I will ask
the permission of yours. " Thus it was settled, and
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 41

Charlotte's partner had also agreed to take mine

during the interim. We then began, and for a
time entertained ourselves with various entwinings
of the arms. What grace and animation in every
turn she displayed ; but when the measure was
changed, the rest of the company, who were to
turn round each other like spheres, produced some
confusion through the irregularity of their motions.
We had, however, the prudence to keep at a
distance till the awkward ones had withdrawn, and
then resumed our places with another couple and
Charlotte's late partner and mine. I never danced
before with SO much satisfaction. I thought
myself more than a mortal. To hold in my arms
the most amiable of her sex ; to glide round the
room with her as swift as lightning, and insensible
of any other object. Oh, my friend, shall I con-
fess ? I had then, even then, formed the resolution
that whatever woman I loved and intended to
marry, should never dance an allemande with any
man but myself, and, as I live -But certainly
you comprehend me.
We now walked round the room two or three
times in order to recover breath. Charlotte then
sat down. I had procured her some oranges from
the sideboard, where they were making negus (the
only ones which were left), which proved a very
seasonable refreshment ; but politeness induced
42 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

her to offer some to a lady who sat next to her,

and who too readily accepted the greatest number
of them. Though a woman, I could not but envy
her receiving a favour from so fair a hand.
We made the second couple in the third country
dance, and while I was turning my partner round,
and examining with exquisite delight those sweet
looks and divine motions which indicated the most
consummate pleasure, a lady, rather advanced in
years, but whose affability had before attracted my
notice, smiled at Charlotte, and twice as we passed
her held up her finger, and then, in a most em-
phatical tone of voice, mentioned the name of
Albert.
"Albert ! and who, may I presume to inquire,
is Albert ? " Charlotte would then have satisfied
my curiosity, but we were obliged to separate for
six hands round at bottom, and in crossing over I
perceived in her a sudden dejection. When I re-
ceived her hand again to lead her away, I repeated
the question. “ Why," said she, "should I conceal
the truth ? Albert is a worthy gentleman to whom
I am contracted." I now recollected that the
ladies had apprised me of this in the coach ; but
then, my friend, it made no impression, for then
I had not seen Charlotte, and till now the heart-
rending thought had not occurred. I was suddenly
disconcerted, and so confused that I forgot what I
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 43

was about, and threw the rest of the company into

disorder by my mistakes ; but the dexterous
management of Charlotte soon restored us to our
proper places.
Our dancing was now interrupted by a dreadful
flash of lightning, which had been previously re-
marked in the horizon, and which I had endea-
voured to persuade the ladies was the mere trifling
consequence of excessive heat. The claps of
thunder which accompanied it overpowered the
music. Three ladies were so alarmed, they left the
company immediately, and were followed by their
partners. The confusion became general, and the
music stopped. Terror is always heightened when
it overtakes us in the hour of amusement, for the
mind, which was diverted by pleasure, is more
sensibly affected by any sudden distress, it being
then more susceptible of the passions, and conse-
quently more impressed by the change of joy to
grief. No wonder then that the apprehensions of
the ladies increased with the storm. One of the
most resolute sat with her back to the window
and stopped her ears against the noise of the
thunder, as if that availed when the lightning
penetrated ; another fell upon her knees before her,
uttered a short prayer, and hid her face in her lap ;
while a third rushed in between them, and clasping
them both, shed a copious stream of tears. Some
44 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

were eager to go home, and others were so ex-

ceedingly terrified that they were blind to the
indiscretion of their partners, who were now
stealing from their lips those tender sighs which
were offered up to heaven. The less gallant
gentlemen went quietly down stairs to smoke their
pipes, and the rest of the company having at length
recovered some part of their reason, consented to
follow the lady of the house, who prudently con-
ducted them to an apartment where the window-
shutters were closed, and the lightning in a great
measure excluded. When we entered it, Charlotte
placed the chairs in a ring, and requesting us to be
seated proposed some small games for our further
amusement. Great was the affectation of some of
the ladies, and the impatience of others for forfeits
to begin. The play agreed upon was counting,
which Charlotte thus explained : " I shall go from
right to left ; you are to count as you sit, alter-
nately, and as fast as possible. Whoever stops or
makes a mistake, shall have a box on the ear. " It
was truly diverting to see her go round with her
arms extended. " One," cried the first ; " two,"
the second ; " three," the third, and so on, till she
mended her pace, and by her velocity created a
mistake, which was accordingly rewarded with a
box on the ear; another laughed, which was another
box; and thus she kept it up, making her circles
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 45

still quicker. I had two boxes for my share, with

which I was highly delighted, for I conceived them
to be harder than the rest. Universal laughter,
which created general confusion, terminated the
game long before the thousand was counted. By
this time the storm had considerably abated, and
the company were forming little parties. Still
intent upon one object, I followed Charlotte to the
assembly-room. On our way she observed, " That
the boxes which she had so freely bestowed on
some of the company for their mistakes and
omissions, were chiefly intended to dissipate their
fears ; for my part, I was as much alarmed as any
of them, but by affecting courage in order to keep
up their spirits, I also kept up my own." We
went to the window. The thunder was still awful,
though at a distance, soft rain continued to water
the meadows and fill the air with refreshing odours.
Charlotte, now reclining her head upon her lovely
arm, fixed her expressive eyes on the surrounding
country, then raised them to heaven, and let them
fall upon me ; I saw them bedewed with a tear,
she placed her hand gently upon mine, and in a
tone of energy, cried : " Oh, Klopstock ! " My
heart throbbed at the name- I felt a thousand
sensations. His divine poem rushed to my recol-
lection, and increased my ardent love for her whose
sentiments are so congenial with mine. " Oh,
46 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

Klopstock ! " I could no more than echo the name,

my spirits were exhausted. I reclined on her
lovely hand, imprinted on it a kiss of sympathy
and affection, then looked up with riveted eyes
on her sweet countenance, and beholding her
bathed in tears, said, " Divine Klopstock, why
canst thou not see thy apotheosis in this angel's
face ? Why canst thou not hear thy name, thy
name so often profaned, uttered by this melodious
voice ? why has any voice but hers ever dared to
utter it ? "

LETTER XII .
June 19 .

WHERE did I break off in my last ? Oh, my friend !

I forget all I have related. I can only recollect
that I reached home, and went to bed at four o'clock
in the morning, and could I have talked to my
friend instead of writing, I should certainly have
sat up all the morning. Did I tell what passed
during our return from the ball ? No matter-it
will bear repetition ; but you must excuse me now-
another time shall be devoted to your service, for
love has not obliterated friendship. It was a
delightful morning, the storm had dissipated every
vapour, nature seemed quite refreshed, and pearly
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 47

drops were gently falling from the trees. Sleep

having closed the eyes of the ladies who accom-
panied us, Charlotte inquired if I was not desirous
of some repose, hoping, if I was, her presence might
be no restraint. " Thy presence," I replied, gazing
on her lovely face, " must keep me awake-it
would be impossible that I could close my eyes
while thine were open." A modest blush over-
spread her cheeks, which soon resumed their natural
bloom. We conversed till the coach stopped at her
house, when the door was softly opened by the
servant, who, in answer to Charlotte's impatient
interrogatories, assured her the family were all well
and in bed. When taking leave, I promised to see
her soon again, and trust me, I was mindful of my
promise. Since that day I have been regardless of
the planets the hours ; time passes unnoticed.
The world is nothing when she is absent, but oh !
it is a paradise when she is present. Farewell-I
must see her immediately.
48 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XIII .
June 21 .

SURE my days now are as happy as those which are

reserved for the blessed ; let my future life be
what it will, I must confess, that in the present I
have enjoyed the most perfect tranquillity. You
are acquainted with the village of Walheim-I am
now entirely settled there, about three miles dis-
tant from Charlotte, and in this my retreat am as
happy as the happiest man can boast. Little I
imagined when I fixed upon this place for my re-
tirement, that it contained so great a prize ; during
my rambles how often have I beheld that rural
seat, which now contains my chief delight ; some-
times I have looked at it from the top of the
mountain, sometimes from the meadow on the
opposite side of the river. Oft have I reflected
on the vain pursuits of man ; blind to the riches of
his native clime, he extends his views, and wanders
in search of new discoveries, but these novelties
soon lose their charms ; he then pants for those
pleasures which he has left behind, and when he
returns becomes satisfied with his former habits,
nor cares how the rest of the world is employed.
The first time I beheld this charming spot I
became attached to it, the beauties of nature, the
delightful prospects of woods, of mountains, and of
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 49

rocks. Oh ! couldst thou but see them ! yet I was

dissatisfied, and left them with as many wishes as
before. Alas ! distance, my friend, resembles
futurity ; there is an awful darkness before us, which
to contemplate involves the mind in obscurity.
Delighted with the scenes which imagination forms,
we seek them with enthusiastic ardour ; but should
reality bring them to view, all our delight vanishes.
Thus the long-absent traveller becomes anxious to
return home, and in his cottage, with his wife and
children, enjoys more happiness resulting from
domestic industry, than he had experienced during
his distant searches.
Here in my retirement I am happy. I rise with
the sun, gather my own peas, sit, shell them, and
read Homer. I put them into the pot, cover them ,
stir them when they boil, and then picture to my
mind the lovers of Penelope killing and dressing
their cattle. Oh ! what agreeable sensations arise
from reflections on the patriarchal life, and without
vanity I may say, such a life is mine ! I feel all
the simple, the genuine pleasure of a peasant, who
beholds on the table the cabbage which his own
hand had raised, and while he enjoys his comfort-
able meal, recollects with joy the fine morning on
which he planted it, the lovely evening in which he
watered it, and the pleasure of successive days in
seeing it grow and flourish.
50 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XIV.
June 29.

THE physician of the town came the day before

yesterday to pay a visit to the steward. He found
me on the floor, playing with, and tickling the
children ; we were romping, and making a terrible
noise. The doctor, who is exceedingly formal and
sedate, for ever adjusting the plaits of his ruffles
during a long speech, and pulling up his chitterling
close to his chin at the conclusion, looked upon this
conduct of mine as very much beneath the dignity
of a man. His look sufficiently expressed his dis-
approbation ; but neither his frowning countenance
nor his solemn discourse had any effect upon me,
for I still continued to rebuild the card-houses,
which the children had thrown down. This gentle-
man has since told everybody that the steward's
children, who were bad enough before, would now
be completely spoiled by Werter. Yes, my friend !
I am fond of children, and love them next to
Charlotte. When in these little beings I observe
the seeds of all those virtues and faculties, which
will hereafter be so essential to them ; when in the
bold I foresee future steadiness and constancy ; in
the capricious, that levity and good-humour which
will resist the frowns of fortune, and make their
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 51

journey through life easy; but when I perceive

them all innocence, all mildness, then I call to
mind the divine words of our teacher, " Except you
be like one of these little ones." And yet, my
friend ! we are apt to spurn children, who may be
greater than ourselves ; we treat them like vassals
when under our care, and deny them ever to follow
their own inclinations. What ! have we none our-
selves ? whence then do we derive this exclusive
prerogative ? Is it from the superiority of years
and experience ? Though in the sacred records we
find them regarded in heaven, they are not to be
regarded upon earth. They are what we were, but
farewell, my friend ! I will no longer
exhaust your patience, and my own spirits.

LETTER XV.
July 1.
THERE is a worthy old lady in the town, who has
been given over by her physician, and expressed a
desire that Charlotte should be with her during
her last moments. She is accordingly gone, and I
am conscious is truly capable of administering
balmy consolation to the sick, for I have been
myself indisposed. Last week I accompanied her
52 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

to the vicar of St. --, at a small village between

the mountains, about three miles distant. His
sister Sophia was with us. We arrived about four
o'clock, and when we entered the court, which is
shaded by two walnut trees, we perceived the good
old gentleman sitting upon a bench before his door.
When he saw Charlotte, he forgot his old age and
staff, and rising from his seat, was hastening to
meet her, but she ran to him-made him resume
his seat, and sat down by his side. She presented
to him her father's best respects, and then began
to kiss a little chubby boy, the old man's favourite.
Oh ! my friend, I wish you could have seen her-
I wish you could have witnessed her attention to
this old gentleman ; how she raised her voice in
consequence of his deafness, and told him of several
young and hearty people, who had died suddenly
in the prime of life ; how she commended the
virtues of the Caulstadt baths, and approved highly
of his intention to try their efficacy the ensuing
summer, at the same time assuring him that he
was considerably altered for the better since the
last time she saw him. I employed the interim in
paying my respects to his lady, who is some years
younger than her husband. The old gentleman
was quite cheerful, and while I was admiring the
beauty of the walnut trees, which formed such an
agreeable shade over our heads, he began, with
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 53

great circumlocution, to give us their history.

" As to the first, I cannot ascertain its origin ;
some say it was planted by a clergyman, and some
say by his successor, but the second, in that corner,
is exactly the age of my wife-it will be fifty years
old next October. It was planted in the morning
by her father, and in the evening she was born.
He was my immediate predecessor here, and I
cannot express his strong attachment to this tree ;
indeed, I am particularly partial to it myself.
Under this very tree was my wife sitting on a log
of wood, and knitting, when I first entered this
yard, then a poor tutor, seven-and-twenty years
ago. " Charlotte now inquired for his daughter ;
he said she was gone to the meadows with a Mr.
Smith to see the haymaking. He then resumed
his story, and told us how he ingratiated himself
with the old vicar and his daughter, how he became
first his curate then his successor. This history
was scarcely concluded when his daughter returned,
accompanied by Mr. Smith, who saluted Charlotte
in the most affectionate manner. She is a

sprightly, genteel girl, of a brown complexion, with

whom a sensible man might live very happy in
the country. Her admirer (for such Mr. Smith
immediately appeared to be) is agreeable in his
person, but reserved in his manners. Charlotte
endeavoured more than once to draw him into
54 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

conversation, but in vain. I was displeased, being

conscious that his taciturnity did not proceed from
a deficiency of talents, but the want of affability ;
and this my opinion was soon confirmed, for whilst
we were walking with Frederica (the vicar's
daughter) I entered into conversation with her,
and immediately this gentleman's countenance,
which is naturally dark, became so exceedingly
gloomy, that Charlotte pülled me by the sleeve as
a gentle hint. I am grieved to the heart whenever
I see men thus torment each other, particularly
when, in the flower of youth, in the fulness of
pleasure, they waste those fleeting, sunshiny days
in idle altercations, and never see their faults but
when too late to correct them. Impressed with
this idea, I could not forbear, during our collation
at evening, when the conversation turned upon the
happiness and misery of life, to take that oppor-
tunity of inveighing thus against ill-humour. "It
is a general supposition that the days of happiness
are inferior in number to those of misery, but it
appears to me that the complaint is without 4

foundation. Were the good things which provi-

dence has allotted us always enjoyed with a
becoming easy disposition, that benignity of
temper, that longanimity would smooth the rugged
path of life, and render the pressure of unavoidable
evils tolerable." " But," rejoined the vicar's wife,
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 55

،،

we cannot always command our tempers ; a great

deal depends on the constitution if the body be
disordered, so is the mind. " " Then, madam," I
answered, " let us consider this disposition as a
disease, and see if there be no remedy for it."
" That is more to the purpose," replied Charlotte,
" and in this respect I think a great deal depends
upon ourselves ; for my part, when anything
happens to ruffle my temper I take a walk in the
garden, I sing some lively air, and by these active
means recover my usual tranquillity." " Such," I
observed, " is precisely my meaning. Ill-humour
may be compared to sloth, it is indeed a degree of
indolence, and mankind are naturally indolent ;
but when we can subdue that evil habit, then we
proceed with alacrity, and find a secret satisfaction
in being thus engaged." Frederica was all atten.
tion. Mr. Smith objected " that we were not
masters of ourselves, and still less of our feelings."
I observed in reply, " that the disagreeable habit
in question was one that everybody wished to get
rid of, that we were not aware of our own strength
till we had put it to the test, that the sick consult
physicians, and tacitly submit to the most scru-
pulous regimen and nauseous medicine for the re-
covery of health. "
As I now perceived the old gentleman leaning
over his head to partake of our conversation, I
56 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

accordingly raised my voice, and addressing myself

to him, proceeded " Though the censure of the
pulpit has been vehement against almost every
offence, there is no one, I believe, has ever yet
preached against the spleen." " Oh," said he,
" that subject only belongs to those who preach in
town ; it would not be understood by the
peasantry, though, by-the-by, the introduction of
it now and then here would not be amiss, were it
only for the benefit of my wife and the steward."
This sarcastic remark occasioned a hearty laugh, in
which the old gentleman joined, but it gave him a
fit of coughing that interrupted the discourse for
some time. Mr. Smith then renewed the subject :
" I think, sir, you have carried the matter too far
when you call ill-humour an offence." " By no
means," I replied ; " that which is pernicious to
ourselves and others deserves the name of offence.
Are we not sufficiently unfortunate in not being
able to render each other happy, without also
endeavouring to deprive each other of that little
satisfaction which, if left to ourselves, we might
be capable of enjoying ? Show me the man who is
addicted to ill-humour and conceals it, who bears
the whole burthen of it himself, without disturbing
the peace of those around him. This peevishness
arises from a consciousness of demerit, from a dis-
content which cohabits with envy, and is cherished
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 57

by weak vanity. We cannot bear to see others

happy when we have not contributed towards that
happiness. " The energy with which I uttered
these last words attracted Charlotte's notice-she
looked me in the face and smiled ; but a tear
started from Frederica's eye, which encouraged me
to proceed. "May they be strangers themselves
to pleasure, who exert their influence over a tender
heart to deprive it of that genuine pleasure it is
formed naturally to enjoy. No presents, though
ever so many, no attention, though ever so great,
can for a moment compensate for the loss of that
tranquillity and peace of mind which envy and
tyranny have destroyed." At this time my heart
was full ; past circumstances came to recollec-
tion, and my eyes were filled with tears. " Every
day," added I, " we should say to ourselves,
what good can I do for my friends ? We can only
endeavour not to interrupt their happiness, but try
to improve it by participation ; for when violent
passions torment the soul, when bitter anguish
rends the heart, it is not in our power to afford
them the least momentary relief, and when at last
some fatal malady seizes the poor wretch, whose
untimely grave is already prepared ; when, ex-
tended and exhausted, he raises up to heaven
his dim eyes, when the cold drops of death are on
his brow, then thou standest before him like a
58 THE SORROWS OF WERTER

self-condemned criminal, thou perceivest thy error,

but it is too late, thou knowest thy inability to re-
lieve ; thou feelest, sensibly feelest, that all thy
gifts, thy actions, cannot avail either to restore
health, or administer temporary consolation to the
departing soul. "
While uttering these words, the recollection of a
similar scene, at which I had been present, struck
my mind with full force ; I immediately applied my
handkerchief to my eyes, and withdrew abruptly,
nor did I recover myself till I heard Charlotte's
voice importuning me to return home. How
tenderly she chid me on the way, how kindly she
represented the impropriety of that deep interest
and warmth with which I am too much affected
whenever I undertake an argument, and generously
entreated me to moderate that heat, which must
wear me out and shorten my days. Dear Char-
lotte ! Yes ; I will take care of myself. I will
live for thee !
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 59-

LETTER XVI.
July 6.
CHARLOTTE is still with her indisposed friend, for,
ever kind and ready, she mitigates pain and
affords pleasure wherever she goes. Yesterday in
the afternoon she took a walk with her little
sisters ; I was told of it, immediately followed her,
and we walked together for about four miles. On
our return we stopped awhile at that fountain
near the town, to which I have been so partial,
and which partiality is now of course increased.
Charlotte took a seat on the wall, and we stood
before her. While contemplating the place, I re-
collected the many solitary hours I had passed
there when my mind was wholly disengaged.
" Dear fountain," thought I, " since that time thy
refreshing stream, which had afforded me so much
delight, has been unnoticed." While thus rumina-
ting, and my eyes fixed upon the place, one of the
children, I perceived, was hastily ascending the
steps with a glass of water. I now looked at
Charlotte, and my heart was filled with the most
lively sensations. At this time the little girl
approached with the glass of water, and Marianne,
another sister, was going to take it, when she
immediately exclaimed in the most affectionate
60 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

manner, " No ; sister Charlotte must drink first. "

I could not forbear taking her up in my arms and
giving her a hearty kiss for her expressive tender-
ness. She began to weep. Charlotte told me I
was too rash ; I was sorry for it. Then, taking
her little sister by the hand, she led her down the
steps to the spring. " There, Amelia, wash your
face, my dear, and all will be well." I remarked
the alacrity with which she obeyed ; having dipped
her little hands in the water, she rubbed her
cheeks, fully persuaded that the kiss was washed
away, and all the danger removed of her getting a
beard. Charlotte then assured her that she had
washed enough, but she still rubbed on, imagining
the more she rubbed the better it must be. Oh !
my friend, I have never paid the rites of baptism
more attention or respect ; and when they ascended
I could with pleasure have prostrated myself at
Charlotte's feet, and adored her as a saint who had
purified the nation.
This circumstance I related in the evening to a
gentleman who has been celebrated for his under-
standing ; but how seldom is common sense united
with modern understanding : I was deceived in
my opinion of him. He railed at Charlotte for
imprudent conduct. " She acted wrong," he
said, " by encouraging the child's weakness and
superstition : follies which cannot be too early
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 61

eradicated. " This gentleman, I understood, became

a father some few days ago, and was probably
-
devising a new system of education. I therefore
took no notice of his pedantic humour, convinced
that, as we are most happy ourselves when indulged
in our little humours, though bordering upon folly,
we should likewise give way to those of little
children .

LETTER XVII .
July 8.
How simple I am ! why should I be so anxious-
so impatient to meet a single look ? What puerility
it is ! We have been at Walheim, the ladies went
in a carriage, but alighted to walk in the garden,
when I thought that Charlotte's fine sparkling
eyes-but how I am wandering, I must be brief,
for I am half asleep. On their return to their
carriage, young Welst, Silfstradt, Andran, and
myself, were talking to them at the window ; the
gentlemen were all full of spirits. I watched
Charlotte's eyes; methought they strayed about
from one to another, and never fixed on me -on
me, who, notwithstanding their instability, re-
mained stationary, and beheld no other object but
her; my heart was bidding a thousand and a
62 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

thousand farewells, yet she never vouchsafed me a

single look. The carriage drove off, and my eyes
followed it with tears. She put her head out of the
window and looked back ; alas, for whom was that
look intended ? was it for me ? what suspense !
but suspense may be consolation ; there is hope
that the look was intended for me. Good night ! I
see my weakness.

LETTER XVIII .
July 10.
You cannot conceive, my friend, how ridiculous I
appear in company when Charlotte's name is men-
tioned, but particularly when I am asked how I
like her ? Like her ! I cannot bear that icy ex-
pression. What must the man be who can only like
her, who feels not the fascination of her bewitching
charms ? How I like her ! thus a few days ago
some one asked me how I liked the Poems of
Ossian.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 63

LETTER XIX.
July 11.
THE lady whom Charlotte has visited in town is
still in a dangerous state ; she has my constant
prayers for her recovery, as I suffer much by her
sickness, which deprives me of Charlotte's com-
pany. I had the pleasure of seeing her to-day,
when she communicated a
very extraordinary
secret. The lady's husband is such an avaricious,
time-serving man, that during his marriage he has
scarcely allowed his wife a sufficiency ; which
has rendered her very unhappy, though she en-
deavoured all in her power to conform with her
narrow circumstances. When the physician gave
her over, she desired to see her husband. Agreeable
to her request he approached her bed-side, and in
the presence of Charlotte she thus addressed him :
" I wish before my death to reveal a circumstance,
which to conceal might hereafter occasion much
embarrassment : I have endeavoured to be as eco-
nomical as possible, but for these thirty years I have
been obliged to deceive you ; when we were first
married the weekly allowance was but a trifle, this
you did not think proper to increase as the family
increased, and during all our most expensive
times, the allowance was only as before. To this I
64 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

submitted without murmuring, but have been

obliged to discharge the overplus from the weekly
income of the dairy. It would not have been sus-
pected that I had meddled with any cash in re-
serve, but it has been through necessity and not
extravagance, and had this secret been buried with
me in the grave, your future housekeeper must
have experienced considerable difficulty, particu-
larly when it might be insisted that your departed
wife had maintained the family on the weekly
pittance you were pleased to bestow. "
Charlotte's observations on such mercenary con-
duct, which absolutely obliged the poor lady " to
rob Peter to pay Paul," were keen and energetic.
" The virtues of a wife (said she) were perhaps sup-
posed to augment his scanty allowance, and endue
it with all the renovating virtues of the widow's
pitcher."

LETTER XX.
July 13.
I CANNOT mistake, I read in her eyes the interest I.
have in her heart ; it is palpable, the flattering idea
is confirmed by my own heart, which whispers me-
shall I dare pronounce the fond hope ?-that-she
loves me ! Loves me ! I feel myself exalted at the
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 65

thought. How-yes, I may venture to tell my

friend, for he will readily comprehend. How I
honour myself since honoured with her affection !
Is this arrogance ? no, consciousness of truth !
1

Who is the man that shall supplant me in her love ?

And yet, when she mentions Albert's name, men-
tions it with respect and tenderness, alas ! I feel
myself as an ambitious officer who is degraded,
stripped of his honour, deprived of his power, and
obliged to surrender his sword.

LETTER XXI.
July 16.
IF by accident I touch her hand, how my heart
beats, and the blood boils in my veins ; if my feet
meet hers under the table, I withdraw them with
the utmost precipitation, but impelled by a secret
something, restore them to their former situation,
and feel the most uncommon sensations. I am
her confidant, her friend, but innocent soul ! she
little conceives the torment she occasions, when
communicating the secrets of her intended mar-
riage. When she places her hand upon mine, and
in the eagerness of discourse draws her chair so
near that I catch the fragrance of her breath, oh,
c
-36
66 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

Heaven ! the vivid lightning is not more electrical.

Alas ! my friend, should I ever dare to abuse this
unsuspecting ingenuity ; but you know my heart,
it is not corrupt ; it is frail, indeed, very frail, and
frailty is the seed of corruption ! I look upon her
as sacred, her presence is my only wish, and when
I see her I feel the most enthusiastic delight !
There is a favourite air of hers, which she plays on
the harpsichord with exquisite taste and energy ;
it is full of expression and interest, yet is simple ;
whenever she begins it, all secret sorrow is banished ;
thus are verified the recorded charms of music, and
its power to dissipate melancholy madness. At
the very time when gloomy fancy points to self-
destruction, that charming, tender air revives the
spirits, disperses every mist of horror, and the
downcast looks of despondency are changed to
smiles of perfectjoy.

LETTER XXII .
July 18.
WHAT avails the possession of worlds to the heart
that is destitute of love ? 'Tis like a magic lan-
tern without light ; when illuminated, the several
figures are then displayed on the whitened wall ;
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 67

what though like those transitory shadows are

the effects of love ! still they can render us happy
when, like children, we are delighted with visionary
pleasures. I shall not see Charlotte to-day ; com-
pany, unexpected and unavoidable, prevent me.
However, I devised some message to send my ser-
vant with to her house, that in her answer I might
have something before my eyes to compensate for
her absence ; with what impatience I waited for
his return. With what joy I received her answer,
which with difficulty I suppressed, in order to con-
ceal my love from the messenger ! The Bologna
stones, when placed in the sun, are said to attract
its rays and retain them, so as to give light for a
considerable time after they are placed in the
dark. Her answer was just the same, it reflected
the lustre of those eyes which had been employed
to write it, the whiteness of the hand which had
delivered it to the messenger, and therefore be-
came most dear and interesting to me. I would
not have parted with it for crowns. Forbear your
smiles, my friend ; nothing that contributes to our
happiness can be justly called an illusion.
68 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XXIII .
July 19.
THIS morning when I awoke, and with all possible
calmness opened the window to behold the sun as
he was peeping, I exclaimed, " I shall see her ! "
Yes, I shall see Charlotte. I have no other wish
to form for the remainder of the day ; in that
sweet hope all all is included !

LETTER XXIV.
July 20.
Your advice to me to accept the ambassador's pro-
posal to accompany him to Vienna is by no means
agreeable. I despise subordination and ceremony,
and every one knows him to be a sullen, super-
cilious character. You say it is my mother's wish
that I had some employ. I smile at the idea. Am
I not always active ? and is it not the same whether
I am shelling peas or beans ? This world is all
misery, and he who to please the world more than
himself struggles for riches and honour in a man-
ner not congenial with his inclinations is, in my
opinion, a mere simpleton.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 69

LETTER XXV.
July 24.
In answer to your repeated inquiries about my pro-
ficiency in drawing, I must candidly inform you that
I have lately paid it very little attention. I have
had an historical piece some time in hand, but
have made little or no progress in it. The fact is,
that I am now so disposed I cannot deviate from
Nature. I understand her better-she is my model
in all her various productions ; but, in truth, the
present state of my mind renders me incapable of
that attention and perseverance which are so essen-
tial for copying with true expression all her little
beauties ; every attempt wants execution, every
outline is deficient ; the colours all swim before
my eyes ! Perhaps I should succeed better were I
to attempt something in relief. Should this humour
continue, my next essay shall be with clay or wax.
Thrice have I begun Charlotte's picture, and as
often disgraced my pencil ; my likenesses are by no
means as good as formerly. I cannot account for
this strange falling off, which gives me no small
uneasiness. I have, however, taken her profile,
and with this must content myself for the present.
70 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XXVI.
July 26.
EVERYTHING my dear Charlotte requests she may
depend upon being punctually performed. Her
further orders will be an addition to my happiness.
Command as often as you will, the last commission
will always be the most welcome ; but there is one
thing I must entreat, do not put sand upon your
letters when you write ; for to-day, while I was
giving one of them an eager kiss, the sand went
between my teeth.

LETTER XXVII .
July 27.
How repeatedly have I resolved not to see her so
often ; but how weak are a lover's resolutions !
Alas ! my friend, it is more easy to talk than to
act. Every day I yield to the temptation, though
every night I say to myself, " I go not to-morrow ;"
but when to-morrow comes an irresistible some-
thing leads me to her presence ; but do not suppose
these somethings are devoid of motives. If, when
parting, she says, " I hope you'll see me again to-
morrow, " could I possibly neglect going ? Or, if she
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 71

gives me a commission, I may find it necessary to

return personally the answer. Sometimes the day
is inviting, and for the sake of exercise I walk to
Walheini. When I am there, it is but two short
miles to her dwelling, and I must needs proceed
farther. Could I return, and I so near ? Impos-
sible. I remember an old story of my grand-
mother's about a huge mountain of loadstone. Its
attraction was so great that whenever any vessel
came within a certain distance, the nails flew to the
mountain, and the wretched crew were lost among
the disjointed planks. My friend will easily con-
ceive the application. A world of such mountains
could not vie with Charlotte in attraction.

LETTER XXVIII .
July 30.
ALBERT is arrived and Werter must depart. Were
he the most deserving, the most noble of mankind,
and I in every respect his inferior, I could not
bear to see him in the possession of so much female
beauty and perfection. Possession ! yes he is the
destined bridegroom ! A worthy, accomplished
character, whom every one must esteem. Fortu-
nately, indeed, I was not present at their first
72 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

interview. It would have rent my heart ! And he

was so considerate as to restrain his fondness for
Charlotte in my sight. Heaven reward him for
it ! I must respect him, too, for the esteem he
entertains for this divine girl ; he is very kind to
me, but I am certain his attention proceeds from
Charlotte's favourable report of me. The women
are remarkably clever in preserving harmony among
rivals. Sometimes their endeavours fail, but the
experiment is necessary, for when it does succeed
it redounds chiefly to their own advantage.
In spite of all, I cannot withhold my esteem for
Albert ; the evenness of his temper is a striking
contrast with the impetuosity of mine, which in
vain I endeavour to conceal, notwithstanding he is
possessed of considerable feeling, and appears truly
sensible of the invaluable store which he possesses
in Charlotte. He has never betrayed the least
sign of ill-humour, which of all dispositions is, you
know, the one that I most detest. He seems to
regard me as a man of taste and understanding,
while my partiality for Charlotte and the pleasure
I discover in her company apparently augment his
triumph and affection. I cannot say whether their
private moments may not be interrupted with some
little jealousies, but I am certain, were I in his
situation, I should not evince so much ease and
composure. Oh, love ! love! how are thy votaries
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 73

tormented ! Whatever may be Albert's situation,

all that pleasure which I have experienced in
Charlotte's presence now must terminate. Is this
weakness or infatuation ? Call it what you please.
Alas ! I know I feel what it is ! Before Albert's
arrival I knew what now I know. I was conscious
that I had no pretensions to her, nor did I presume
to claim any ; for all my seeming presumption was
the effect of her irresistible charms. Yet now,
how foolish, how astonished I look, because the real
master of the treasure appears, and I am obliged to
resign that which was never mine ! I lament my
fate, I despise my weakness, but doubly despise
those cold mortals who gravely argue the necessity
of submission and fortitude when there is no
remedy. I cannot endure those shallow philoso-
phers-those ridiculous preachers. I stray about
the woods, I return to Charlotte's when fatigued,
I find her sitting in the bower at the bottom of the
garden with Albert, I am bewildered, act like a
child, play a thousand antics. " For Heaven's sake,"
said Charlotte to-day, " be more composed ; your
violent spirits are quite alarming ! " I confess, my
friend, that of late I watch Albert's motions, and
when business calls him away I steal to Charlotte
during his absence, and am never so happy as when
I find her alone.
74 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XXIX.
August 8.
BE assured, my friend, that when I railed at those
who might offer their cold advice, and said I could
not endure such ridiculous preachers, I was far from
supposing that you could be one of the number ;
but there is truth in what you say. However, I
shall make but one objection. When two opposite
methods are proposed, we seldom find that either is
ever taken. Our actions and opinions are as
strikingly various as our looks and features ; be
not offended then if I grant the justice of your
conclusions, but take a middle way to evade them.
You say that either I have hopes of obtaining
Charlotte, or I have not. What, then, is the
result ? I should, in the first case, continue the
pursuit, and seize every opportunity for the accom-
plishment of my wishes. In the second case, you
say I should act like a man, and forget an un-
fortunate attachment, which in the end must be
attended with destruction. All this is very true,
my friend ; but permit me to observe how much
more easy it is to teach resignation than to learn
it. Would you ask the almost exhausted wretch,
who is pining under a languid malady that is daily
wearing out his constitution, to terminate at once
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 75

his misery by poison or a dagger ? Surely the very

disorder which deprives him of corporeal strength,
deprives him also of that mental firmness which
the desperate deed requires ? This comparison,
however, you may answer by another simile, and
say, who would not for the preservation of his life
submit, without delay, to the amputation of a limb ?
It may be so. I know not what to reply. Indeed,
my friend, I have often resolved to depart from
danger, but could find no refuge.
IN CONTINUATION .

I PERCEIVE from my memorandum-book, which I

have for some time neglected, but accidentally
took up, that I have been remarkably minute and
attentive to every little circumstance. It is strange
-with what perspicuity I have considered every-
thing, and how childishly I act ; I still remain
clear in my ideas, and yet there is not the least
hope of my recovery.
76 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XXX .
August 10.
WHAT a scene of bliss is now before me-now
within my reach, if I were capable of enjoying it !
So many agreeable circumstances seldom combined
during the life of any one man to promote his
happiness, but, alas ! I feel too sensibly that hap-
piness depends entirely on the mind, and not on
mere advantages. To be considered as making one
of the most worthy of families, to be regarded as a
son, by his children as a brother, and by Charlotte
-by Albert too, that amiable youth, who, in the
most cordial manner, receives me as a friend, and
esteems me next to his intended bride ! How
pleased would you be, could you overhear our con-
versation, and mutual praises of Charlotte, as we
walk together ! In truth, nothing can be more
strange and ridiculous than this connection, and
yet there is something in it which frequently melts
me into tears. Whenever he talks of Charlotte's
mother, a woman of respectability, when he de-
scribes her last moments, and that most affecting
scene in which she resigned to her amiable daugh-
ter the future care of her children and family;
when he paints the attention and economy of this
her dutiful daughter, as soon as she supplied the
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 77

mother's place, her careful management as a house-

wife, her affection as a mother to her brothers
and sisters ; and though faithfully discharging
those duties every day, yet still preserving her
wonted cheerfulness and agreeable vivacity, I walk
by his side, pick up flowers on the way, and most
industriously make a nosegay, which I throw into
the first rivulet we approach, and watch it as it
gently slides down the stream, and sinks, without
being conscious of what I am doing. I forget now
if I told you that Albert has obtained a situation
here. He has procured a place at court, and is
universally respected. Indeed, few men whom I
have seen are, for punctuality and attention, so
well calculated for business .

LETTER XXXI .
August 12.
WITHOUT doubt there cannot be a more amiable
character than Albert. Our conversation yester-
day was very singular, and worthy communication.
My motive for calling was to take leave of him,
for I had proposed to spend some days on the
mountains, where at present I am writing. While
walking up and down his apartment, I perceived
78 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

his pistols, and requested the loan of them for my

journey. " You are heartily welcome to them," he
replied, " if you will take the trouble of loading
them, for I only hang them up there for mere
form- sake. " I now looked at one of them, and he
proceeded. " I was once very near paying dearly
for my vigilance, and since have never loaded any
fire-arms that I keep." I requested an account of
the accident. " I was at a friend's house in the
country for about three months," he said, " and
always enjoyed the most uninterrupted repose,
though my pistols were unloaded. But one rainy
afternoon, having nothing to do, the thought oc-
curred that probably the house might be broken
open and robbed at night, and that these pistols
might be of some service, that-in short, you know
how a person will act when in an indolent humour.
Accordingly I gave them to my servant to clean
and load ; he, more full of play than thought, was
endeavouring to frighten the maid, and one of the
pieces (Heaven knows how) went off whilst the
rammer was in it, which hit her in her right hand
and tore off her thumb ; you may easily conceive
the distress which this accident produced, and the
expense, for it was attended with a surgeon's bill.
Since that time I have never kept loaded pistols in
my room. In vain, indeed, all the vigilance of man
-he cannot foresee, he cannot avert threatening
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 79

danger." Everything in Albert I like but his in-

deeds; however, you know there is no rule without
an exception. His behavour is truly correct ; and
whenever he advances any assertion that is too
general, or doubtful, his candour and apprehen-
sion of giving offence induce him to use so many
softening and extenuating terms, that in the end
his assertions are none at all. According to custom
he was, on the present occasion, deeply immersed in
his subject. The discourse consequently became
tedious, I was no longer attentive, but devoted en-
tirely to my own thoughts. During my reverie, I
applied the mouth of the pistol to my forehead.
" What are you about? " cried Albert, snatching
the pistol hastily from my hand. " It is not charged, "
I replied. " What then ?" he retorted with vehe-
mence ; " why make use of such action though it
be not charged ? I am surprised how any man can
be so mad as to shoot himself ; and even the bare
idea makes me shudder." " How is it possible," I
replied, " that any one in speaking of an action can
peremptorily say it is mad, wise, proper, or im-
proper ? What mean those rash declarations ? Are
the secret motives of such actions duly considered ?
whence it originates, and why it becomes indispens-
able ? If such examination had been made, your
decision could not possibly have been so hasty."
" But," said Albert, " it must be acknowledged
80 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

that some actions, let them proceed from whatever

motives they may, are still in their nature criminal."
I gave a negligent assent. " However, " I con-
tinued, " some further exceptions should here be
made ; robbery is allowed to be a crime, yet that
unhappy wretch who is thereto driven by extreme
poverty, who takes a little from the affluent to save
himself and perishing family, is he more deserving
of punishment or compassion ? Who would call
that husband wilful murderer, who in the first in-
stance of just resentment has sacrificed a faithless
wife and her perfidious paramour ? Who would
call that credulous fair a wanton, who, deluded by
false promises, has yielded to the temptations of an
artful seducer ? Our very laws, we find, hard and
rigorous as they are, will in those cases admit of
mercy, and waive the punishment." " But these
examples," remarked Albert, " are by no means
applicable. The man who is impelled by sudden
and violent passion is incapable of reflection, and
must be considered as a drunkard or madman."
" Oh, ye moralists ! " I cried, with an indignant
smile, " with what calmness, with what apathy you
can judge, you can talk of violence, inebriation,
insanity ; but you are cool and sedate, you despise
the intoxicated, you shun the insane, you pass on to
the other side like the priest, and like the Pharisee
thank God that you are not like one of them.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 81

I have more than once experienced the effects of

liquor, and at those times have been guilty of the
most extravagant passions, which I am not ashamed
to confess to me it has been a lesson ; for every
man we find who displays any superior talents, or
performs any extraordinary deed, is looked upon as
drunk or insane. Even in private life these idle
notions prevail, for what do the world say of the
youth who is remarkably generous and brave ?
What but that he is drunk, or out of his senses ?
Blush ! ye philosophers-ye moralists ! blush-
blush !" " These are some of your romantic no-
66

tions," rejoined Albert ; you always exceed the

mark, and certainly you deviate now considerably
from the subject, when you compare suicide with
heroic actions-an acknowledged weakness for it
is certainly more easy to die, notwithstanding the
terrors of death, than to live in a state of extreme
misery, and bear our misfortunes with becoming for-
titude."
I was now very near dropping the subject ; for
nothing exhausts my patience so much as when
those unmeaning commonplace opinions are ob-
truded in opposition to the flowing sentiments of
the heart ; but I soon smothered my indignation,
for I am so accustomed of late to these paralogisms,
that they make little or no impression upon me.
" However, " I observed with some warmth, " you
82 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

call suicide a weakness ; but take care, I entreat

you, not to be carried away by mere sounds. Sup-
pose a nation groaning under the galling yoke of
despotism were at last to rebel and break their
chains, would you call such insurrection a weak-
ness ? During a conflagration, a man, to save his
house from the threatening flames, will exert
all his strength ; and burdens, which before he
could scarcely move, carry with facility. He who,
in the moment of just indignation, attacks and puts
to flight half a dozen of his adversaries are such
men to be accused of weakness ? And, my good
sir, if resistance be an indication of fortitude, why
should that which is superlative resistance be
called a weakness ? " Albert paused, and replied,
"All these examples, begging your pardon, are still,
I think, foreign to the subject in question. " "That
may be probable indeed," I answered, " for it has
been frequently observed there is a kind of extrava-
gance in my method of combining things. Let us
then endeavour to represent this business in another
light ; let us inquire what is the situation of that
man who resolves to lay down the burden of life,
a burden that is in general so much desired ; and
let us also enter into his feelings, for without such
examination it is impossible to discuss the subject
fairly.
" Human nature," I continued, " has certain
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 83

bounds ; it is only capable of enduring a certain

degree of pleasure, sorrow, and pain, and when this
degree is exceeded, nature then becomes exhausted.
We are not to inquire the strength or weakness of
a man, but his capability of enduring those mental
or corporeal evils which befall him. In my opinion,
it is as great an absurdity to call that man a coward
who puts a period to his existence as it is to call
him one who falls a victim to a malignant fever."
" Paradox! " interrupted Albert, " mere paradox ! "
" Not so much as you may think," I replied. "You
must acknowledge a disease to be mortal whereby
nature is so violently attacked, and her strength so
far exhausted, that the little which remains is in-
sufficient to preserve animation, or restore its wonted
motion ; let us then apply this to the mind ; let us
examine the force of impressions, and the operations
of ideas upon it, till at length a violent passion takes
entire possession thereof, and all its former powers
are consequently subdued and destroyed ; in vain
the man of keen penetration, sound understanding,
and cool temper, beholds the miserable situation of
the wretch that is thus reduced-of what avail is
any advice which he can give him ? he is like a man
in health who sits by the bed of his departed friend
without being able to communicate to him the
smallest portion of his strength."
This kind of reasoning was in Albert's opinion
84 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

too general . I gave him, for example, the story of

a young girl who had lately drowned herself, which
he had heard before, but which on this occasion I
repeated. " An innocent young creature, so accus-
tomed to the narrow sphere of domestic toil, and her
weekly occupations, that all her enjoyment was a
walk in the fields on a Sunday, a dance or two
during the holidays, while the rest of her leisure
time was spent in conversing with her neighbours
relative to the news and all the little disturbances
in the village. At length her heart is inflamed
with new desires, which the adulation of mankind
increases ; all her former pleasures gradually become
insipid. She accidentally meets with a youth, and
another attachment imperceptibly takes place ; from
that time her every hope is centred in him ; she
is blind to all the rest of the world, for he alone
is the object of her attention of her thoughts.
Ignorant of the baneful pleasures which arise from
idle vanity, in the simplicity of her heart she enter-
tains no other wish but to be his; she fondly dreams
that she shall be his wife, and fondly hopes to
realise the flattering dream ; these hopes are con-
firmed by his repeated promises and ardent vows ;
this love is increased by his apparent passion, antici-
pation fills her with rapture, her joy is beyond
bounds ; at length she stretches out her arms to
embrace the dear object of her affection, but, fatal
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 85

delusion ! her lover is false, he has forsaken her !

Petrified ! amazed ! she stands senseless before the
abyss of wretchedness which encompasses her ; all
around is darkness, there is no glimmer of hope,
he is gone, for ever gone, for whom alone she lived,
and now to her the whole world is a vacuum; though
amidst a thousand admirers she feels alone, and for
ever deserted ! Thus blinded, thus impelled by
this heart-rending grief, she plunges into a watery
grave. And such, Albert, such is the history of
several characters ; and pray is not the case parallel
with that of sickness ? Nature could find no other
way for her escape, her powers were exhausted,
she was incapable of contending with increasing
ills, and death was the result. Shame on that man
who can listen to this affecting case, and yet ex-
claim, Weak maid ! why did not she wait till time
had removed this impression ? this despondency
might have been alleviated, she might have found
another lover who would have made her happy. '
As well might he say, 'A simpleton ! he died of a
fever; why did not he wait till his blood was cool,
till his strength was restored ? then all would have
been well, and he would now have been alive ! ' "
Albert, disallowing the justice of this comparison,
still made many objections ; among the rest, that I
had only instanced the case of a simple, ignorant
girl. He could not conceive how a man of sense
86 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

and education, whose views are more enlarged, and

who can, consequently, find so many sources of con-
solation, could ever be guilty of suicide. "My good
sir," I replied, " whatever may be the sense and
education of a man, he is still a man, and the
reason he possesses has little or no effect when the
passions take vent, or rather when the boundaries
of human nature close in upon him; besides-but
no more at present ; we shall resume the subject
another time : " saying which, I abruptly took my
leave. Alas ! my heart was full ; we parted with-
out a mutual comprehension. How seldom do
men understand each other !

LETTER XXXII.
August 15.
WITHOUT doubt it is a similarity of taste and sen-
timent which renders mankind essential to each
other. Charlotte, I am convinced, will feel some
regret at my departure; and as to the children,
they every day anxiously request me to come again
on the morrow. I paid them a visit this afternoon,
in order to tune Charlotte's harpsichord. The
moment I entered I was surrounded by all the chil-
dren, who eagerly entreated me to tell them a story.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 87

It was Charlotte's wish that I should indulge them ;

so having cut their evening's bread for them, which
they accepted from my hands as cheerfully as if
Charlotte had given it, I told them my best tale of
" Henry and Peter; or, the Effects of Presumption
and Inexperience." I have derived considerable
improvement from this kind of exercise, and it is
astonishing the impression which those little tales
make on the minds of children. If, on the repetition
of an old story, I omit any incident, or introduce
another, the little rogues immediately remark that
it was not so the first time I told it ; I am, there-
fore, more uniform and exact, and even endeavour,
as much as possible, to preserve the same tone of
voice. I am hereby convinced that an author may
injure his work by revising the next edition, and
even altering it for the better. The first impression
is readily imbibed, and, whether reason or credulity
preponderate, must be the longest remembered.
Whoever, then, attempts to eradicate a former im-
pression, will meet with but little success.
88 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XXXIII .
August 18 .
Is it possible that the very circumstances which
at first combined to constitute man's happiness, can
afterwards become the cause of misery ? That
ardent love for nature with which my bosom was
formerly animated, which afforded joy beyond ex-
pression, and raised an imaginary paradise around
me, is now become a most intolerable pain, a seem-
ing demon, which pursues and perpetually torments
me. With what delight did I formerly contem-
plate, from the summit of the towering rock, the
extensive river, which, as far as eye could reach,
watered the fertile plain ! Then everything put
forth, grew, and was expanded. All within my
view appeared in motion. The mountains were
covered to their very tops with high and tufted
trees, and all the valleys in their various windings
sheltered by delightful woods ; the gentle stream
glided through the trembling rocks, reflecting in its
calm surface the light clouds which hung in the
air, suspended by a soft zephyr. I heard the notes
of the feathered songsters which enlivened the
woods ; I saw innumerable animalcules dancing in
the purple rays of the sun, and when evening in-
vited the humming grasshoppers abroad, the noise
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 89

of these insects won my most serious attention.

The arid rock cherished the moss, and the sands
beneath were covered with broom. That enlivening
heat which animates all nature glowed around me
-it filled and warmed my heart; I felt within a
secret, inexpressible joy, and was lost in the idea
of infinity ! Stupendous mountains lifted their
heads far above mine, rugged precipices lay near
my feet, torrents rolled by my side, impetuous rivers
ran through the plain, the rocks and hills echoed
every distant sound, and in the depths of the earth
numerous powers were in motion, and multiplying
without end ! All created beings, of various tribes,
of various shapes, move upon the earth and in the
air, while man takes shelter in his little hut, peeps
out, and vauntingly exclaims, " I am lord of this
vast world ! " Weak mortal ! to thee everything
appears little, for thou art little thyself ! Rugged
mountains, untrodden deserts, the secret confines of
the immense ocean, all are animated by the breath
of the Eternal, and every atom which has derived
existence and life from Him finds favour in His
sight. Oh, how oft during these hours of contempla-
tion has the cormorant's flight, while passing over
my head, inspired me with the wish of traversing
the immeasurable extent of space, of transporting
myself to distant regions ; there to drink of the
fountain of eternal joy, and to taste, if but for a
90 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

moment, mortal as I am, of the beatitude of that

Immortal, " in whom we live and move, and have
our being ! "
Oh, my friend ! the bare recollection of these
times is still some consolation ; but when my
ardent mind recalls those sensations, from which I
derive the powers of expression, I rise superior to
myself, and all my present wretchedness is doubly
felt. The curtain falls, the scene is changed ; in-
stead of the bright prospect of eternal life, there is
nothing in view but a bottomless pit ! Can we say
of anything that it is, when all passes away ? when
time, in its rapid progress, hurries everything away,
and our transient life, carried along by the torrent,
is either swallowed up by the furious waves, or
dashed to pieces against the rocks ? Every moment
tends to destroy me, and all around me ; and every
moment I am myself a destroyer ! Every innocent
walk puts to death thousands of inoffensive insects :
at one step the curious fabric of the industrious
emmet is destroyed, and a little world is thereby
rendered a mere chaos. Ah, my friend ! they are
not the great and extraordinary calamities of the
world, the inundations which drown whole villages,
the earthquakes which swallow up whole towns,
that so sensibly move and affect me ! No ! What
preys upon my spirits is that secret, that destructive
power which prevails in all the works of nature-
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 91

her very master-pieces contain the principles of

their own dissolution ; she has produced nothing
which does not consume itself, and everything ad-
joining ; therefore, though surrounded by earth,
and air, and all their innumerable active powers, I
wonder, with a sorrowful heart, I see no happiness ;
the whole world I think a terrific monster con-
tinually employed in devouring and regorging !

LETTER XXXIV .
August 21 .
In vain I stretch out my arms to embrace her,
when I awake in the morning, after the unpro-
pitious dreams of night ; in vain I seek her, when
deceived by a flattering vision, which has placed
me by her side, in the meadows where I have held
her hand, and impressed on it a thousand kisses.
Alas ! when half asleep, I fondly imagine that I
touch her ; but when I awake entirely, tears gush
from my eyes in copious streams, and my full
heart heaves with sorrow. Destitute of all hope, I
give way to despondency, and anticipate every
evil.
92 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XXXV.
August 22.
How lamentable is my situation ! my active
powers have degenerated into passive indolence !
I cannot bear idleness, and yet am capable of no
employment ; I am unable to think-reflection
heightens my malady ; I am insensible to the
beauties of nature, and books are no longer enter-
taining. There is but one object which rules my
mind, everything else abandons me. Sometimes I
wish myself a mechanic, that, when I awake with
the morning, I might have some employment to
divert the tedious day, and dissipate my gloomy
thoughts. How often do I envy Albert, when
poring over his papers and parchments ; how often
do I think that if I were in his place I should be
happy. Ha ! in his place ! I should be happy
indeed ; then Charlotte - But no more of
that. I have frequently taken up the pen to sup-
plicate the minister for the place which my friend
thinks I might have if I pleased. Indeed, from
his repeated kindnesses, and intimation to serve
me, I should have little doubts of the success of
my application ; and there are many situations, I
know, in his disposal, which would not require
much fatigue ; but then, on further consideration,
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 93

the fable of the horse occurs, who, having sub-

mitted to the bridle and saddle, had soon cause to
repent the sacrifice of liberty. I am ignorant what
course to take ; I know the instability of my dis-
position, and, though not naturally inclined to
change, am fully persuaded that, in my present
situation, I can think of nothing but love.

LETTER XXXVI .
August 28.
COULD any cure be found for my present indisposi-
tion, these worthy people would certainly administer
it. This, my friend, is my ill-fated birthday, and, as
soon as I rose in the morning, I received a small
parcel from Albert : it was directed by the hand
: of Charlotte, and on opening it I found the very
ribbon-a pale pink knot-which she wore the
first time I saw her, and which I have since
repeatedly requested her to give me as a token of
esteem. Albert had enclosed two pocket volumes
of Homer, which I have often wished for, the
edition which I have being too inconvenient to
carry about when I walk. How they endeavour
to please ! how far superior are those little tokens
of friendship to the splendid gifts of the great,
94 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

which are always humiliating ! I ardently pressed

the ribbon to my lips, which recalled those happy
days which never can return ! Ah me ! what an
alteration since that time ; but I will not murmur.
The sweetest flowers of life fade as soon as they
blossom. Some perish ere they have attained
maturity, and leave not a single trace behind ;
how few even bring forth fruit, and when they do,
how rarely that fruit ever ripens ! Even then the
little which is ripe is, alas ! too often neglected,
and suffered to decay. Some allowance must be
made for the difference of seasons-they are
indeed as changeable as ourselves.-Adieu ! The
weather is now delightful, it is truly summer ! I
often visit Charlotte's orchard, where I climb up
into a tree and pull some pears for her, while she
stands below and catches them in her apron.

LETTER XXXVII.
August 30 .
UNFORTUNATE man as I am, how often I deceive
myself, how often play the fool ! Why this un-
bounded passion ? I address no prayers but to
Charlotte, she is all that my fancy pictures, and
everything around me is disregarded but as it
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 95

relates to her. When she is present, how happy are

my hours ! but when obliged to tear myself away,
as is frequently the case when contemplating her
beautiful figure, when listening to her melodious
voice Oh, my friend, overcome with joy, my
heart throbs, I become insensible, tears sometimes
relieve me, and then--then I am under the pain-
ful necessity of leaving her ! I wander about the
meadows, I ascend steep rocks, I rush through
thickets, and tear myself to pieces with the bram-
bles and thorns, thus abating my anguish by vary-
ing the scene. Sometimes, exhausted with fatigue
and thirst, I " take the measure of an unmade
grave." Oft in a sequestered wood, in the dead of
the night, before the silver beams of the moon, I
lean against some curvated tree, and, from an ab-
solute want of rest, there sleep till awoke by the
golden rays of the sun. Oh, heavens ! a dungeon,
chains, and sackcloth would be nothing to what I
endure. Adieu ! The grave alone can terminate
my woes ; the grave, that peaceful home, which
puts a period to all misery !
96 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XXXVIII .
Sept. 3.
YES, I will leave the place ; I was in doubt at first,
but thanks to my friend for his kind advice, I am
now resolved. For this fortnight past I have been
determined to leave her presence ; but now I am
fully determined. She is just gone to the town to
visit a particular friend, and Albert-Albert is with
her, and I shall quit this place immediately.

LETTER XXXIX .
Sept. 10.
ALAS, my friend ! what a dismal night I have
endured ; but it is past, and I am now prepared
for the worst-I shall see her no more ! No more !
Oh, that myfriend were here, that I could now throw
myself into his faithful arms, give vent to my full
heart, and partake of his balmy sympathy ! I use
my best exertions to keep up my spirits, I endeavour
to resume my composure, and am waiting patiently
for daylight, when (for I have ordered post-horses
to be ready) I shall be far removed from this place.
Charlotte is now at rest-little imagines that she
 • THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 97

shall never, never see me again ! I left her

abruptly, and had sufficient resolution not to dis
close my intention, though we had conversed
together for near two hours. Oh ! how intelligent,
how sensible was her discourse ! Albert had pro-
mised to meet me, with Charlotte, immediately
after supper, in the garden. I was standing upon
the terrace, beneath the shady chestnut trees,
admiring the setting sun, which my eyes never
quitted till he had retired. Here Charlotte and I
have frequently been together it was indeed a
favourite spot of mine before I knew her and the
predilection which she discovered for it gave me
no small pleasure in our early friendship ; and, as
our desires were similar, our attachment was re-
ciprocal. The prospect from these chestnut trees
is extensive, but I remember having already
described them to you, particularly how high
copses enclose the end, and how the walk through
the adjoining wood becomes gradually dark, till it
terminates in a recess of shady trees, forming a
delightful gloomy solitude. I recollect the pleasing
melancholy I felt the first time I entered this
silent retreat ; it was in the middle of the day, and
probably was a secret foreboding that, at a future
period, it might be the scene of both pleasure and
pain.
Having passed about half an hour in painful
D-36
Bayerische
Staatsbibliothek
München
98 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

reflection on my departure and return, I heard

them approaching the terrace ; immediately I ran
to meet them, and, trembling, took Charlotte's
hand and kissed it. When we had reached the
top of the terrace, we perceived the silver-mantled
moon rising from behind the shrubs which adorn
the mountain tops ; and our conversation became
general till we had reached the dark end of the
avenue. Charlotte first entered this my favourite
spot, and sat down. Albert took his seat by the
side of her, and I by the other ; but such was the
perturbed state of my mind, that I could not sit at
rest ; I arose, stood before her, then walked back-
wards and forwards, and afterwards resumed my
seat with the utmost emotion. Charlotte pointed
out the striking effects of the moonlight at the end of
the wood, whose modest brilliancy was heightened
by the surrounding darkness of the place. The
solemnity of this dreary scene agreed with my
soul's sadness. Oh, my friend, it was exceedingly
awful ! Charlotte at length spoke : " Whenever I
walk out by moonlight, I recall to mind all those
who were once dear to me, and are now no more ;
I then become impressed with the thoughts of
death and a future state. Yes," she continued, in
accents which spoke the tenderness of her heart,
" we shall undoubtedly live hereafter, but how,
Werter ? Shall we see one another ? shall we
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 99

recollect one another ? what do you think ?"

" Charlotte," I replied, holding out my hand to her
with overflowing eyes, " we shall meet again, I
trust, both here and hereafter." I could say no
more. Oh ! my friend, it was a cruel question, at
the very time when the thoughts of a long sepa-
ration were preying upon my spirits. " Ah ! "
continued Charlotte, “ I wonder if those persons
whom we have loved, and whose memories we still
revere, I wonder if in their blissful state they are
sensible of our regard, and the happy moments we
have enjoyed together ; methinks the shade of my
dear mother hovers around me, when, in a calm
evening, I sit with those innocent children she left
behind-sweet emblems of herself !-when eagerly
they assemble about me, as they did about her ;
then do I raise my eyes to heaven, then do I pray
that from her celestial abode she may look down and
see the promise I made to her in her last moments,
of being a mother to them, duly fulfilled. Oft
and oft have I exclaimed, ' Oh, dearest of mothers,
forgive me if I am not to them all that you were !
Alas, I could not be all that she was ; but all that
I can be, I am !-they are properly clothed and
fed, and, what is more, they are tenderly beloved
and carefully instructed. Oh ! could but my dear
mother witness the harmony which now subsists
among us, she would return devout thanks to that
100 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

Divine Being, to whom, when dying, she addressed

such fervent prayers for our prosperity." More
than this she uttered ; but vain would be the
attempt to repeat every noble sentiment. The ani-
mated effusions of genius are not to be expressed
by cold pedantic characters.
Albert, with much tenderness, now interrupted
her. " My lovely Charlotte, you suffer yourself to
be too much affected. These recollections are
tender and pleasing, but I beseech you not to
dwell too much upon them. " Oh, Albert," she
replied, " you must feelingly remember those
tranquil evenings when, my father being abroad
and the children retired to rest, we three used to
sit round our little table. In general you had a
book in your hand, to which you little attended,
for who would not have, preferred the instructive
conversation of that intelligent woman to the most
entertaining volume ? She was as mild as she was
benignant, and cheerful and happy amidst her
domestic employments. Heaven has been witness
how often I have kneeled and implored the divine
assistance, to render me, if not altogether, some-
what like her in goodness."
Throwing myself at her feet, and seizing her
hand, which I bathed with tears, I exclaimed,
" Oh, Charlotte, Charlotte ! the blessings of heaven
and of your mother still attend." " Oh , Werter,”
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 101

she said, pressing my hand, which, like hers, was

wet with tears, " had you but known her, for she
was worthy of even your friendship." I was
motionless. I never before received a compliment
which I felt more forcibly. " And this worthy
woman," she continued, " died in the very prime
of life--her youngest child was scarcely six months
old. During her illness, which was but of a short
duration, she was calm and resigned, her only
anxiety was about her family, particularly the
youngest child. When she found the hour of her
dissolution approaching, she desired me to bring
them to her. I obeyed the sweet little group
surrounded her bed-the young ones insensible of
the loss which they were about to sustain, but the
old ones overwhelmed with unfeigned sorrow.
Then raising her feeble hands to heaven, she fer-
vently invoked the Almighty to be their father,
kissed them alternately, dismissed them, and said
to me, Charlotte, be thou their mother.' I gave
my hand in silent assurance of my intention to
obey. You promise much, my child-a mother's
tenderness, a mother's attention-but your filial
love assures me you are equally susceptible of
maternal feeling. Be as affectionate to your
brothers and sisters as you have been to me ; be
dutiful to your father ; supply the place of a
faithful wife ; and be the comfort of his declining
102 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

years.' She then inquired for her husband, but,

too sensible of the treasure he was about to lose,
he had retired to weep in secret, and give vent to
his heart-rending anguish. Albert, you were in
my mother's chamber at this time ; she heard you
move, and inquiring who it was, entreated you to
come near her ; then looking at us both with much
composure and apparent satisfaction, she ex-
claimed, ' You will be happy together, I see you
will be happy. " Albert now interrupting her with
a cordial embrace, exclaimed, " Yes, my dear Char-
lotte, we are and shall be happy ! " Even he, the
inanimate, studious Albert, was moved with her
affecting description, and as for me, I was almost
bereft of my senses. " And oh, Werter, this
worthy, this truly amiable woman," she continued,
" was torn away from her family. Good heaven !
must we thus be separated from those we hold
most dear ? Methinks I now hear the melancholy
lamentations of the poor little children, who for
some time mourned the departure of their fond
parent, and said that black men had carried away
their dearest mother."
Charlotte now quitted her seat. I was also
roused, but continued to sit, still holding her hand.
" We must go," she cried, " it is late," and at-
tempted to withdraw, but I grasped her hand still
closer. " We shall see one another again," I
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 103

exclaimed, " we shall meet one another again. Yes,

be our situation, be our from whatever they may,
we shall see and know each other hereafter. I am
going, and, as I must go, I go willingly ; but I
cannot say for ever-it would break my heart !
Farewell, Charlotte; Albert, farewell ! We shall
see one another again. " " Yes, to-morrow, I
suppose," added Charlotte, smiling. Oh, my
friend, that to-morrow was a dagger to my heart !
Ah, me ! she scarcely knew when to withdraw her
hand. They went down the avenue. I im-
mediately arose, and my eyes followed them by the
light of the moon ; I then prostrated myself on the
ground, and gave vent to my strong emotions. At
length, suddenly starting up, I ran to the terrace,
and under the shade of the lime-trees could still
discern her white gown waving near the garden
gate. I stretched out my arms, but in vain ; she
was gone the charmer vanished in a moment.

LETTER XL.
October 20.

I ARRIVED here last night, and, according to pro-

mise, write to my friend as soon as possible. The
Ambassador is confined with the gout, and this
104 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

indisposition by no means adds to the natural sweet-

ness of his temper. He is at all times morose and
disagreeable, but now more peevish than ever. I
see, too plainly, that fate has reserved me for severe
trials, but I will not be discouraged nor dismayed.
I shall study a little levity. I cannot forbear
smiling at the word which hasjust escaped my pen ;
a little of that levity, of which at present I am
totally destitute, would render me the happiest of
men. But shall I despair of my faculties and the
gifts of nature, when I perceive others of inferior
talents and strength parading before me, with all
the empty pride of the peacock, and with nothing
else to be proud of but their gaudy plumage ?
Almighty heaven ! why hast thou not united with
the qualities thou hast given me those of confidence
and self-complacency ? But, patience !-methinks
my friend exclaims-patience, good Werter ! time
can work miracles and things may change. Indeed,
I must acknowledge my friend has judged right,
for since I have been obliged to mix with company,
since I have had an opportunity of observing their
plans, their conduct, and their conversation, I am
become far more easy and contented. As we
naturally compare ourselves with the several
objects we meet with in life, our joy or grief evi-
dently proceeds from whatever is present. Solitude
is the nurse of melancholy, in which farcy, ever
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 105

inclined to soar on high with daring wings, feeds

on such visionary ideas, and creates such unexist-
ing beings, that we look upon ourselves, in com-
parison, as inferior and insignificant. All things
seem of greater importance than they are, and
those appear our superiors who are not. This
operation of the mind is natural ; we are for ever
finding imperfections in ourselves, for ever finding
qualifications in others which they do not possess,
and thus we picture to ourselves a hero, who is, in
fact, an imagined being, the offspring of our own
creation .
On the other hand, when we direct our views to
one point, and eagerly persevere in the course that
we proposed, we frequently find, in spite of vexa-
tion and disappointment, that we have made a
greater progress, though continually tacking, than
others, with all the assistance of wind and tide ;
and the judgment we form of ourselves, by com-
parison, whether we be on a line with them, before,
or behind them, will be just.
106 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XLI.
November 10.

EVERY day I think my situation more tolerable.

I am continually employed, and the number of
actors who surround me, the different characters
they perform, and the variety of scenes which they
afford, successively engage my attention. I am be-
come acquainted with the Count -- who every
day increases in my esteem. He is a man of bril-
liancy and penetration, and though of superior
abilities, is by no means reserved and phlegmatic.
He is possessed of cheerfulness, gentleness, but
above all, sensibility. The first time we met,
which was in consequence of some business I had
to transact with him, he conceived a regard for me,
and perceiving that we understood each other, laid
aside all formal ceremony, and became agreeably
familiar. I was much pleased with his ingenuity,
his inexpressible affability. The unreserved con-
fidence of a great mind, like his, always tends to
alleviate the pungent feelings of a heart like mine ;
you, my friend, have been long acquainted with
that heart, and will, I am certain, make every
allowance for its failings.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 107

LETTER XLII .
December 24 .

It is as I suspected the Ambassador and I can

by no means agree. He is, without doubt, the
most fastidious blockhead I ever met, as fantastical
and formal as an old maid. As he is never pleased
with himself, how is it possible he can be pleased
with others ? I wish to transact business regularly,
and with despatch ; and when it is finished, to
have done with it, but this is not his way. When
presented with a draft, he will return it, with,
" To be sure it will do, but you had better revise
it, there may be something to correct, you may
think of a more appropriate phrase, or a more
striking word. " My patience is then exhausted,
and I curse both him and his observations. Not a
conjunction, not one trifling particle, must be
omitted, and those transpositions -my favourite
style of writing-he cannot bear. Every sentiment
must be agreeable to the dogmatic mode of office,
or it is immediately disapproved of; you, my
friend, who know my aversion to those rigid rules,
must easily conceive the torment I endure with
such a character.
Were it not for the count's agreeable acquaint-
ance, I should be quite inconsolable. He candidly
108 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

assured me the other day how much he detested

this great man's tardiness and circumspection.
" Such characters," he observed, " not only render
everything troublesome to themselves, but to every-
body else who is concerned with them. But,"
added he, " we must submit to such people, like
the traveller who is obliged to ascend a mountain ;
if the mountain were not in the way, his road
would certainly be shorter and more agreeable, but
as it is he must patiently pass over it. " The old
fool sees that the count is attached to me, and this
tends to increase his chagrin ; he takes every
opportunity to depreciate him in my presence ; I
naturally engage in his defence, and consequently
add to his displeasure. Yesterday, I observed
that one of his blows against this gentleman was
also intended to hit me. " The count," said he,
may do very well for the common affairs of the
world, his style is good, and he writes with facility ;
but, like other great geniuses, his learning is
only superficial." This was delivered in a peculiar
tone of voice, accompanied with a significant
look, that implied, I hope you feel what I say.
With respect to myself, however, the sarcasm has
no sting-I despise the man who can think and
act as he does ; and who would argue with such
wretches ? However, I replied with some degree
of warmth, that the count was a gentleman
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 109

entitled to every respect, both for his demeanour

and understanding, that, in fact, he was the only
person I had ever met with, who, being superior to
the generality of mankind for his extensive genius,
possessed all the necessary promptness for business.
This was algebra in his opinion, and lest any fur-
ther invectives against a character so far superior
to his should increase my resentment, I imme-
diately withdrew.
You, my friend, you I may thank for this,
my present slavery. Through your repeated
importunities and strong recommendations of
activity, I consented to bend my neck to this
galling yoke. Activity ! If the man who plants
potatoes and carries them to market be not a
more active and useful being than I am, may I
labour ten years longer at this cursed galley to
which I am now chained. And what vexation-
what disgusting lassitude prevail among fashion-
able societies !-how, through their ambition of
rank, they watch and toil for precedency ! Con-
temptible, selfish passion ! which in every action
they demonstrate. There is a lady here at present
who is for ever deafening the company with pom-
pous accounts of her family and extensive estates ;
were a stranger to hear her boasting, he would
imagine she was some fool whose brain had been
disordered by the unexpected possession of a title
110 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

or fortune ; and yet (which renders her still more

ridiculous) she is no more than a steward's clerk in
the neighbourhood ! It is wonderful how any
human being can study to be so contemptible !
Every day, my friend, I perceive more and
more the absurdity of judging of others by our-
selves, since it is with difficulty that I can sup-
press the heats of my imagination and the emo-
tions of my heart. I willingly leave others to
pursue the paths they have chosen, and at the
same time desire to follow my own inclinations.
The ridiculous distinctions which prevail among
citizens are what chiefly disgust me : I am per-
fectly aware that inequality of condition is abso-
lutely necessary, and of the advantages I derive
from it myself ; but I would not suffer it to oppose
the small portion of pleasure which this world
of pain affords.
During one of my late rambles I have become
acquainted with a Miss Bouer-a very pleasant,
agreeable girl, who, notwithstanding the formality
and affectation of her neighbours, is easy and
simple both in her behaviour and dress. When
we first met, we were mutually pleased with each
other, and before we parted, I requested permis-
sion to pay my respects to her at her house,
which she granted with so much ingenuous polite-
ness that I waited with impatience for a season-
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 111

able opportunity. She is not a native of this

place, but at present resides here with her aunt,
whose countenance is far from agreeable . I dis-
liked the old lady the first moment I saw her, but,
for the niece's sake, paid her every attention, and
frequently addressed myself to her. In less than
half an hour I nearly conjectured (what Miss has
since confessed) that her aunt, who is far advanced
in years, having little fortune, and less under-
standing, feels no other enjoyment than the secret
satisfaction of enumerating her illustrious ances-
tors ; her noble birth is her protection-this is the
rampart with which she surrounds herself ; and
her chief amusement is to stand at her window
and look down with sovereign contempt on all
the supposed ignoble heads which pass under it.
In her early days she was reckoned handsome ;
but the prime of life was idly lavished away,
and many a youth was the sport of her caprice-
this was her golden age ! On the decay of beauty,
she was obliged to accept of an old officer, and become
subservient to his morose humour-this was her
brazen age ! She is now a widow, neglected, and,
were it not for the amiable disposition of her niece,
would be entirely abandoned--this may be called
her iron age !
112 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER XLIII.
Jan. 8, 1772 .
WHAT characters are here !-their continual study
is the science of forms ! All their time and
thoughts are employed for a whole year in, per-
haps, a matter of no greater consequence than how
they may advance nearer to the upper end of the
table by only one chair ! such people are far from
being idle, for they are perpetually adding to their
labour by bestowing on mere trifles that attention
which should be directed to more important busi-
ness. Some day last week a grand party, which
had been formed for an excursion upon the ice in
sledges, was abruptly dissolved, owing to a trifling
dispute which arose about precedency ! Cannot
the fools perceive that it is not rank which
constitutes true happiness ? he who possesses the
highest situation is frequently the most insignificant
actor ; many a king is governed by his minister,
and many a minister by his secretary. Who, in
such cases, should be esteemed the prime agent ?
He, certainly, whose superiority of merit is capable
of rendering the passions and power of others
subservient to his own will.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 113

LETTER XLIV .
Jan. 20.

I Now address my dear Charlotte while resident

in a humble cottage, which has afforded me a
comfortable shelter from a merciless and violent
storm. During my abode in that melancholy town
of D--, among strangers, strangers indeed to my
disposition and feelings, I could never write to
you ; but the moment I entered this secluded place,
whilst the snow and hail were beating against my
little window, I was restored to you and to myself.
On my very first entrance, your image rushed
before my eyes, and the remembrance of Charlotte
filled my heart. Oh, sacred remembrance ! sweet
recollection ! Gracious powers ! that the first
moment I beheld her could be restored !
Ah, Charlotte ! couldst thou but see me in that
vortex in which I have been involved, where every-
thing disturbs, but nothing touches me : apathy
seizes me, and I no longer enjoy that inward satis-
faction which is derived from real pleasure ; I never
shed the tear of sensibility or sympathy, the fer-
mentation is dried up ; I stand motionless, as one
thunderstruck at a raree show ; great and little
puppets move before my eyes, and I frequently ask
myself if the whole be not a visual deception : these
114 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

puppets become the objects of my diversion, or

rather I become the object of theirs. I take hold
of my neighbour's hand, I find it a composition of
wood, and then, full of horror, withdraw my own !
At night I intend to enjoy the sun-rise of the suc-
ceeding morning ; but in vain, I cannot quit my
bed. In the morning I propose to take a walk
when it is moonlight, but I cannot quit my
chamber. I can give no reason why I rise, or why
I go to bed. The thoughts which charm me at
night, and rouse me in the morning, speedily
vanish.

I have found but one being (a Miss Bouer) who

is of the same description ofyourself-yes, Charlotte,
she is certainly like you, if it be possible that any
one can be. "Ah ! " you will exclaim, " he has
learned to pay elegant compliments ! "-but the
remark is just. I have been exceedingly polite of
late, not being able to be anything better ; the
ladies say that I possess no small share of wit too,
and that I excel everybody in flattery-" In lies,
too, " you will add, for the one always accompanies
the other. But I intended to say something of
Miss Bouer : she possesses considerable sensibility,
and a superior degree of understanding, both of
which are apparent in her fine blue eyes. Her
rank is a burden to her, for she has no inclination
which it gratifies ; she despises all the emptiness of
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 115

high life, and we frequently entertain one another

for hours together in conversing of the pleasures
and happiness of rural scenes ; we think of you in
our discourse, for Miss B. not only knows but
respects you, a voluntary respect, not excited ; she
admires you, and is always pleased when your name
is mentioned.
Oh, that I were now present with you in that
favourite little apartment where your dear little
sisters and brothers used to play around us ! If
they were troublesome to you, I would tell them a
story, and they would then surround me with
eagerness and attention.
The sun has almost retired ; his setting rays now
glisten on the snow which covers the whole country ;
the storm has subsided, and I must return to my
dungeon. Adieu ! Is Albert with you ? What is
he to you now ? Fool that I am, why should I ask
such a question ?

LETTER XLV .
Feb. 17.
It does not seem likely that the ambassador and I
can continue much longer together, he is absolutely
intolerable ; his mode of transacting business is
so exceedingly absurd that I cannot refrain from
116 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

contradicting him, and following my own inclina-

tions, in spite of all his directions, which of course
offends him. He has hinted something of this to the
minister, from whom I have received a reprimand.
It was written in gentle terms, but still it was a
reprimand. I had resolved on giving in my resig-
nation, when I received a private letter from the
same person, which, I confess, humbled me, and
excited my admiration of the profound and exalted
genius which dictated it ; it contained the most
noble sentiments to soothe my painful sensibility,
and with extreme candour and condescension ex-
presses much approbation of my schemes, and no
small commendation of that firmness and ardour
which naturally belong to youth. He exhorts me
not to suppress this impetuosity, but to keep it
within due bounds, that it may assist my abilities.
Thus am I reconciled to myself, and instructed to
be patient, at least a few days longer. Tranquillity
and peace of mind are blessings, my friend, but,
valuable as they are, they are also transitory !
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 117

LETTER XLVI.
Feb. 20.

MAY Heaven protect my dear friends, and bestow

upon them all those blessings of life which have
been denied to me ; Albert, I thank thee sincerely
for thy generous deception. I expected to have
been informed of the nuptials, and intended on that
day (happy day for thee) to have taken down
Charlotte's profile from the wall, and to have buried
it with some other papers. You are now united,
and her picture still remains there, and there let it
remain ! why should it not ? Can she not still find
room for me in her heart ? Yes, Albert, with thy
permission I may have a second place there, nay, I
must ! Should she forget me, I should run dis-
tracted. Oh, happy husband ! I am already dis-
tracted ; but be happy, Albert ! and Charlotte,
angelic creature, may thou be the happiest of thy
sex !

LETTER XLVII.
March 15 .

A STRANGE adventure has just happened, which

will doubtless prevent my longer continuance here.
My patience is exhausted, insupportable ! There is
118 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

no remedy ; my friend, too, is the cause of all ; you,

who importuned and urged me to accept a situation
for which I am by no means capacitated, I am now
convinced, so will you be ; but, lest my failure may
be attributed to the violence of my temper, this
shall be accompanied with a circumstantial detail
of the business .

LETTER XLVIII .

I HAVE already and repeatedly mentioned the

count's esteem and partiality for me. I dined with
him yesterday, which was the day when all per-
sonages of rank were to meet at his house. I never
recollected the assembly nor the exclusion of
subalterns on that occasion. After dinner we went
into the hall, conversed and walked about together.
Colonel B., having also paid the count a visit,
joined in our conversation, and thus we passed the
time till the nobility entered. Heaven knows I
was wholly unprepared when the most noble and
right honourable Lady S. made her appearance,
accompanied with her husband and daughter (a
mere simpleton, with a short waist and flat
bosom), who with contemptuous look and super-
cilious air passed by me. Despising all such, I
was
determined to quit the place, and only
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 119

waited to take my leave of the count, who was now

engaged in idle, frothy compliments. At this
moment Miss Bouer entered, and as her presence
has always afforded me pleasure I delayed awhile
to speak to her. I was leaning over the back of
her chair, and at last discovered (which at first I
did not perceive) a certain confusion, which rendered
her less affable and agreeable ; this sudden change
excited my astonishment. " Is it possible ! " I
thought ; can she be like the rest ? " I was dis-
pleased, and would have withdrawn, but that I was
anxious to inquire into the cause. The rest of the
company were now arrived : there was a certain
baron in his old favourite coat, and a count, whose
antiquated habit made no inconsiderable contrast to
the fashions of the day. I addressed all those
whom I knew, and remarked that they were pecu-
liarly distant ; but I was more surprised at Miss
Bouer's behaviour. This, indeed, engaged all my
attention ; nor was I aware ( as I have since been
informed) that the ladies were all whispering to-
gether-which whispers soon buzzed among the
gentlemen ; and Madam S. had, it seems, some
warm conversation with the count upon the subject.
At last the count took me aside, and with much
good humour said, " You know the folly of eti-
quette ; there are some here take your presence in
dudgeon. I should be exceedingly sorry "——“ І
120 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

beg pardon, I should have recollected myself ; but

your goodness will, I trust, excuse this oversight.
It was indeed my intention to have departed long
ago, but my evil genius prevented me." Saying
this, I smiled, bowed, and took my leave, which was
accompanied with a cordial shake of his hand, that
sufficiently spoke his honest heart. I also made
a bow to the honourable company, then hastened
into my chaise, and drove to a neighbouring village,
where, from the summit of a hill, I contemplated
the setting sun, and amused myself awhile with
Homer, having accidentally turned to the beautiful
description of the hospitable reception of the King
of Ithaca by the honest herdsmen. After thus
enjoying myself I returned, and, on entering the
supper-room at night, met with only a few persons
who were entertaining themselves with dice. I
was immediately accosted by the good- natured
Adelheim, who, in a whisper, said, " It was a very
disagreeable affair which happened to you ; so the
count obliged you to leave the company ! " "The
company ! " I replied ; " I was very happy to leave
them." Thus it is. The only thing which vexes
me is the impertinent report which is spread. I
then began to think seriously of it, imagining all
the while I was at table that every one was looking
at me on account of what had passed. This stung
me to the heart ; and now wherever I go I hear
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 121

myself pitied, while my triumphant enemies ex-

claim, " Thus it ever happens to all those vain
insignificant mortals who affect to despise rank, and
yet are always studying to render themselves con-
spicuous. " Oh ! I could rip up my heart. Fortitude
must be very essential in philosophy, though trifles
in general meet with our derision, yet when pro-
ductive of disagreeable consequences they become
serious ; and when taken advantage of by masked
villainy, the soure of mortification.

LETTER XLIX.
March 15.

EVERYTHING that happens tends to increase my

vexation. Having this day met Miss Bouer, I
joined her on purpose to inquire the cause of her
late behaviour. " Ah, Werter ! " she said, with
much energy ; " you who are acquainted with my
heart must be conscious how much I endured on
your account when first I entered the room. I
foresaw the consequence of your presence there,
and wished for an opportunity of revealing to you
my fears. But I was well convinced that there
were some who would immediately quit the assembly
if you remained. The count was exceedingly hurt,
122 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

but he could not possibly disoblige the company-

then the noise it has since made. " Endeavouring
to conceal my strong emotion, I inquired, what
noise ? " Ah," she replied, with tears in her eyes,
"how much trouble it has already given me ! "
This voluntary mark of her sympathy and affection
not only calmed my indignation, but consoled my
heart. I was near prostrating myself at my fair
advocate's feet. " Be explicit," I cried ; her tears
were more abundant. " Ah, sir," she continued,
" my aunt-you know her disposition-she was
present ; and, good heaven ! how vague are all her
notions ; yet she can boast of her knowledge of
life, of her experience, her sense of equity, of
breeding. Oh, Werter ! Werter ! how did she
lecture me both last night and this morning on our
acquaintance. How much did she endeavour to
depreciate you, while I did not dare to utter one
word in your defence! " Every word was a dagger
to my heart ; but, amiable soul ! she was not
conscious that in pity to me she should have con-
cealed all that she had told. She likewise informed
me of the idle reports which busy impertinence had
propagated and malicious calumny had improved.
I have been ever since so agonised that I have more
than once seized my sword to give vent to my full
heart ! I have read of some spirited steeds who, to
relieve themselves from the effect of a heated
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 123

course, will with their teeth instinctively open a

vein. Oft am I tempted to open one of mine, and
thus procure everlasting relief.

LETTER L.
March 24.

I HAVE written to Court for permission to resign,

and trust it will not be denied to me. You must
pardon me for not having asked your advice, but
my departure hence is indispensable. I know you
would fain dissuade me from my purpose, but in
vain are all arguments. Pray be so kind to
break this to my mother with due precaution. As
I am incapable of doing anything for myself, it
cannot be expected that I can render any service to
others. She will, I know, be sorry-very sorry, to
hear that her son has stepped short in that career,
which by degrees would have raised him to the rank
of a privy-counsellor or ambassador. You may
argue as much as you please, and urge the most
powerful reasons for my stay, but in vain. I am
determined on going. But that you may know
where I am going to, I must inform you that the
Prince of is here, and, having heard of
my intention to resign, has kindly given me an
124 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

invitation to reside during the spring month at his

country house. He has promised that I shall
follow my own inclinations ; and I daresay, as we
agree on all subjects but one, that I shall accom-
pany him ; but should I change my mind, my
friend shall be duly apprised of it.

LETTER LI.
April 19.
I THANK my friend for his two consolatory letters.
I waited for my answer from Court before I wrote
to you. I much dreaded that my mother would
have interfered in the business, and disappointed
my hope of dismission ; but it is all settled, and I
have this moment received it. I shall not tell you
with what reluctance the Ambassador granted it,
nor what his letter contained upon the subject, as
it might only add to your complaints. The here-
ditary Prince has made me a present of twenty-five
ducats, accompanied with such tender expressions
as almost melted me into tears ; the money, there-
fore, for which I lately applied to my mother is not
now required.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 125

LETTER LII.
May 5.
TO-MORROW I shall set out, and as the place of my
nativity is but six miles out of the road I may
probably pay it a visit, in order to call to remem-
brance the happy hours of my infancy. I shall
enter at the same gate through which I passed with
my mother, when, after my father's decease, she
quitted that delightful residence for the detested
town. Adieu, my dear friend. My next shall
contain a faithful account of my excursion.

LETTER LIII .

WITH all the devotion of a pilgrim I performed

the journey to my native soil, when a retrospect
of scenes well-remembered filled me with sensations
not to be expressed. As soon as I approached
the large lime-tree which stands about a quarter of
a league from the village, I alighted from my
carriage and ordered the postillion to drive on
before me, that, in solitary and pedestrial contem-
plation, I might more comfortably enjoy the
pleasures of recollection. I stopped beneath that
lime-tree, which had been generally the period of
126 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

my early walks : what strange vicissitudes have

been since ! In those happy, ignorant days, I
languished after a world I did not know, but
which I fondly flattered myself was decked with
the most delightful flowers, and contained every
enjoyment that youth could desire ; but now that
I have visited the world, what, my dear friend,
have I experienced ? What but the very reverse
of all those fascinating scenes which youthful
fancy had suggested ? I now beheld those opposite
mountains, which well I remember have oft
excited the wish of peregrination : for hours
together I used to sit looking at them, ardently
longing to be among those thick woods and valleys,
which render the prospect so delightfully variegated,
and when these hours of amusement were over,
when obliged to return home, with how much
regret did I quit this favourite spot ! On ap-
proaching the village I recognised those several
little gardens and summer-houses with which in
my early days I had been well acquainted ; but I
could not bear the new ones, nor, indeed, any of
the alterations which have been since made. On
entering the village through the gate, I once more
felt myself at home. It is impossible, my dear
friend, minutely to relate the several affecting
circumstances of this visit, nor, indeed, would a
detail of them be interesting to you, though to me
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 127

they were extremely so, through pleasing recollec-

tion. It was my intention to have lodged in the
market-place, near our old house, but when I went
there I found that the school-room, which had
formerly been tenanted by a worthy old lady, was
now converted into a chandler's shop. I recollected
the many anxieties, the many tears I had shed in
that confinement. Some particular impression
marked every succeeding step. No pilgrim in the
Holy Land was ever attracted with so many
vestiges, or ever testified so much devotion. Of
the thousand sensations I felt, I cannot refrain
from mentioning one. Having followed the course
of a little brook to that farm which had formerly
been my favourite ramble, and where I and other
boys used to amuse ourselves with bathing, and
making ducks and drakes upon the water, I was
most forcibly struck with the recollection of what
I then was-painful recollection !. Well I re-
member how oft I looked at the water as it flowed,
how oft I formed romantic notions of the several
different countries it was going to pass, till my
imagination was exhausted, and, during the con-
tinual flowing of the water, my mind bewildered
in the contemplation of unknown distance.
Exactly such, my friend, were the sentiments of
our great ancestors, and sure the language of
Ulysses, when he talks of the immeasurable ocean
128 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

and the unlimited earth, as well suits the shallow

comprehension of man as that of the pedantic
youth, who assumes all the gravity of a philosopher,
because he has learned at school that the earth is
round. Finding my fancies still afloat, and that
my ideas, thus excited, were not likely to
terminate, I suddenly prepared for my return, and,
having entered my carriage, took my departure,
sensibly impressed with past joys and succeeding
sorrows .

At present, my dear friend, I am with the prince

at one of his lodges. He is a man of extreme
candour and generosity, and I feel myself quite at
home in his company. The only disagreeable trait
in his character is credulity, for he is too apt to
speak from report, and to offer his affirmations
without either experience or investigation. I am
sorry to say that he seems more to value my
abilities and external accomplishments than my
judgment and mental endowments, which are, in
fact, my only pride, being alone the source of all
my industry, my happiness, misery, everything ;
which are alone my own, and which constitute
every good quality I boast, yet I do not pretend to
any superiority of knowledge.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 129

LETTER LIV.
May 25.
I HAD projected a scheme which I did not intend
to acquaint my friend with till it was performed ;
but the design having been frustrated I shall now
communicate it. I had, for this sometime, been
fully resolved to go into the army, and this indeed
was my chief motive for accepting the prince's
invitation. He is a general in the service of the
Elector of- During one of our late walks
together I intimated to him this inclination, but it
did not meet with his approbation, the success of
which must solely have depended upon his interest,
I thought it imprudent to make any objections to
his.

LETTER LV .
June 11.

UNFORTUNATE wretch as I am, I can stay here no

longer, for what can I do here ? I am tired of the
place. Ah, my friend, I am indeed unhappy ! 'Tis
true the prince treats me in all respects as his
equal, but I cannot make him my confidant ; our
minds are by no means congenial ; though his
understanding be good it is far from extraordinary,
E-36
130 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

so that his conversation affords me no better

entertainment than the perusal of a well-written
volume. I shall only stay another week here, and
then commence a strolling life as before. Some
drawings have been my best performances since I
came here. The prince has a taste for the arts,
but it would be far more considerable were it not
cramped by technical jargon and pedantic rules.
My patience is frequently exhausted when, with
elaborate criticisms (on which he values himself not
a little), he impedes the progress of that lively
expression which my glowing imagination bestows
upon art and nature.

LETTER LVI.
July 16.
In truth, my friend, I am no more than a traveller
-a mere pilgrim in this life, and who is there in
the world that is not ?

LETTER LVII .
July 18 .
WHAT is my present destination ? You shall hear.
I am obliged to remain here a fortnight longer,
then I intend to visit the mines of , but it is
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 131

impossible ; indeed, my mind changes every hour, I

deceive myself, my sole wish is to be near Char-
lotte, this is the fact ; alas ! I see the weakness of
my heart, yet I am not its dupe, but willing slave,
and readily obey its dictates.

LETTER LVIII.
July 29.
Он, по ; 'tis better as it is ; 'tis all for the best-I
her husband ! Had the Divine Power, which gave
me existence, decreed for me also that blessing,
the remainder of my happy life should have been
devoted to ceaseless thanksgiving ; but I will not
murmur against the will of Providence ; may these
tears, these fruitless wishes be forgiven ! Had
she been mine, oh ! with what pleasure would I
have folded in my arms the most amiable of her
sex ! How am I agitated when I see her heavenly
frame encompassed by Albert !
I was about to remark and wherefore not ?
that she would have been far happier with me than
with Albert. He never was formed for her ; he
wants that tender sensibility which she possesses
and delights in ; he wants in short, their hearts
do not beat in unison. Oh ! my friend, how oft
have I perceived, when reading to her some inter
132 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

esting passage, that our sensations have been

mutual, that we have thought and felt alike ; and
by looks, more expressive than words, conveyed
to each other our meaning ; yet Albert loves her,
he studies to please her, and does not his love
deserve a return ?
I have been interrupted by an unseasonable
visit ; I have therefore endeavoured to compose
myself, and my mind is at present more tranquil.
Adieu, my dearest friend !

LETTER LIX.

I AM not the only wretch whose views of happi-

ness are frustrated, this life is subject to disap-
pointments. I have been to visit the good woman
who lives upon the green near the lime-trees.
The eldest boy ran to meet me, and his exclama-
tions of joy brought out his mother ; but her
countenance bespoke much sorrow. I inquired
the cause of her dejection. "Alas ! my good sir,"
she replied, while tears streaming down her pallid
66

cheeks interrupted her utterance, our poor little

John, who was the joy and comfort of my heart, is
now no more ! "-this was her youngest child. I
remained silent. " And my husband," she con-
tinued, " has returned from Holland without any
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 133

money. He was taken ill of an ague, and, had it

not been for the charitable donations of some
humane beings, he must have begged upon the
road. " I was grieved at her story, and gave the
little boy some money. She offered me a few
apples ; I accepted them, and took my leave with
aheavy heart.

LETTER LX .
Aug. 21.
As quick as lightning are the transitions of my
mind, now a sudden ray of hope breaks in upon
my drooping spirits, and a momentary gladness
dawns within me ; but alas ! the gleam is transient.
During its short-lived stay I begin to think, were
Albert to die, that then then Charlotte would-
and I follow this illusion till I find myself on the
brink of a precipice, when I start with such sudden
horror, that were it a real precipice my fall would
be inevitable. When I go out at the same gate,
or take the same road, which conducted me, for the
first time, towards Charlotte's residence, my heart
sinks within me, and I begin with deep anguish to
compare what I was with what I am. All happi-
ness is past, the world no longer appears the same,
my heart throbs not as formerly it did, I feel not
the same delight as then. If, my friend, the shade
134 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

of a departed prince could return to visit the

magnificent palaces, which in happy times he had
erected and left to a beloved son, and were to find
them overthrown by enemies and reduced to ruins,
what would be his sensations ? Such, alas, as
mine !

LETTER LXI.
Sept. 3.
I AM frequently at a loss to comprehend how she
can love another ; how she presumes to love another,
while she reigns alone in this heart, while her fair
image engrosses every thought, and excludes every
other idea.

LETTER LXII .

'Tis harvest time, Nature is gay, but all within me

is gloomy as winter. When the leaves of the trees
shall become yellow and fall off in autumn, then
will the hair of my head be white and drop off by
handfuls. My sight begins to fail me ; I have
almost lost my hearing, all my senses, except feeling,
and that remains doubly acute. In a former letter*
I mentioned a country swain, whom I accidentally
met with when I first came here. On inquiry, I
* Letter X.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 135

understood he had been dismissed from his service,

and I could obtain no further information of him :
but yesterday I happened to meet him in the road
leading to the next village, when I accosted him
with so much cordiality, that he soon made me
acquainted with his lamentable story, lamentable
indeed, as my friend will acknowledge when he
reads it. Yet why trouble my friend with every
circumstance that distresses me ? why distress him ?
why incur his pity or his displeasure ? but it is my
fate to render every one who knows me unhappy.
At first he was somewhat reserved, but his usual
candour returned, as if he had suddenly recollected
me : he very ingenuously confessed his faults, and
related his misfortunes. I wish I could convey
his words with the accent and manner they were
uttered, with all the wild emotion, the enthusiastic
agitation of love, which had rendered him incapable
of eating, drinking, or sleeping, which had also in-
capacitated him for business ; for whenever desired
to do anything he immediately forgot it, and would
do something quite contrary. He was continually
upbraided and censured by his mistress, but he
fancied the voice which chid him was melodious,
and he was happy. Some evil spirit, he said, had
haunted him, and prompted him at last to do what
he should not have done. One day having followed,
or rather, having been induced to follow, his mis-
 136 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

tress into her chamber, and she having refused to

comply with his entreaties, he was tempted (he
!
knew not how) to gain her consent by gentle force.
He swore his views had been always honourable ;
that marriage had been his wish, and that in that
wish all his hopes of happiness had been centred.
After some hesitation he confessed the liberties she
had granted, and then, apprehending he had said
too much, defended her conduct, and declared his
love was as ardent as ever. His manners were so
affecting, that no words can paint them, though
still his image is before my eyes. Were you to
see him you would pity and forgive him. I feel
myself interested in his fate ; but why should I
endeavour to excite your compassion for him, when
already you know one whose fate is similar ?
I find, in looking over my letter, that I have
omitted the conclusion of this young man's story.
During the lady's struggle her brother entered,
whose antipathy to the lover was so great that he
often wished him to be dismissed from his sister's
service, for he feared if she married again she
might have children of her own, and, consequently,
his would be prevented from inheriting her fortune.
The brother soon seized this opportunity of turning
him out, and in consequence of the report which
was spread, the lady could not possibly admit him
again, without either marrying him or forfeiting
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 137

her reputation. Since (as the poor fellow informed

me) she has taken another lad into her service,
which has added to her brother's uneasiness, as it
is rumoured that she means to marry him. Should
this take place the young man declares his life would
be a burden.
This ruling passion-this love is no poetical
invention ; even among the low and illiterate it
may be found in all its native purity. Read this
story, my friend, with peculiar attention. I am
more composed since I have begun writing to you.
You will see by my letter, which is longer than
usual, that I am not so hasty as I was. I entreat
you, then, to read it with attention, and think that
in this story you also read that of your unhappy
Werter-yes, it is, and will be ever the same with
me ; but, I am sorry to say, that in fortitude this
young lover is so superior that I blush when I
compare myself to him.

LETTER LXIII .
Sept. 5.
CHARLOTTE'S husband having been in the country
for these some days, she began a letter to him thus :
" My ever dear and beloved, return as soon as
possible ; you are expected with a thousand good
138 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

wishes." As soon as she had finished, a friend

brought her word that very important business
delayed Albert longer than he imagined ; of course
she did not send the letter, and in the evening I
happened by accident to take it up. Having read
it with a smile of pleasure, I kissed it in a fit of
transport. She inquired the cause : " Oh," I ex-
claimed, " what a blessing is imagination ! " By my
countenance she readily perceived the force of that
imagination, for I fancied the letter had been
addressed to myself. She was silent and looked
displeased ; that look of displeasure silenced me.

LETTER LXIV .
Sept. 6.
You cannot conceive how reluctantly I have laid
aside the blue frock, which I wore the first time I
danced with Charlotte : it was impossible to wear
it longer, it was so shabby ; but I have had another
made exactly like it, with a buff waistcoat and
breeches. I do not, however, admire the new coat
so much as the original pattern. Alas ! it is not
the same, but in time it may probably become
equally attractive.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 139

LETTER LXV.
Sept. 12.
CHARLOTTE went for her husband, and has been
absent for some time. I paid her a visit to-day,
and had the ineffable pleasure of kissing her hand.
A canary bird flew from the looking-glass upon
her shoulder. " Here," said she, " is a new friend."
She then enticed it to come into her hand. " See
how fond he is of me ; how he flutters his little
wings, and pecks with his bill, whenever I give
him victuals ; pray, Werter, observe, he is abso-
lutely kissing me." The little bird, on her offering
him her lips, seemed delighted with her fragrant
breath. " Now," said she, stretching the bird over
to me ; " he shall kiss you, too ; " and accordingly he
directed his little beak to my lips. What pleasing
sensations did I then feel. " Charlotte, this little
bird is not quite satisfied with our kisses ; he wants
more substantial gratification he wants nourish-
ment. " She then took some bread, and fed him
out of her mouth. I was obliged to turn aside.
Alas ! she should not rouse my feelings with such
scenes ; when my heart is lulled, she should let it
rest, and not call it from oblivion to recollection-
yet, has she not a right ? but she confides in me too
much ; she is conscious that I love her.
140 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

LETTER LXVI.
Sept. 15.
How mortifying to any man of reflection are
those contemptible beings who, devoid of all sensi-
bility, disregard everything that is interesting and
worthy of attention. You must remember my
mentioning the walnut-trees at S--, under which
I sat with Charlotte at the worthy old vicar's.
How did these lovely, these admired trees adorn
the parsonage yard ! The shade produced by their
venerable branches excited the most pleasing ideas,
and recalled to recollection the worthy pastor who
planted them. Oft has the schoolmaster mentioned
the name of him (which he had learnt from his
grandfather) who planted the first. " This vicar,"
he would say, " was a most excellent man, and,
under these trees, his name was ever remembered
with pleasure." This very schoolmaster informed
me yesterday, with tears in his eyes, that they
were cut down. " Cut down ! " I exclaimed, " had
I been present, I should certainly, in my rage, have
murdered the audacious ruffian who aimed the first
blow ; it is not to be endured : if I had been
master of two such trees, and only one of them
had perished with old age, I should have put on
mourning. " However, the whole village seems
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 141

concerned ; every one murmurs, and I hope the

honest peasants will send no more presents to the
vicar's wife, but make her rue the mischief she has
done; for it was she that gave the order, the wife
of the present incumbent. The good old man haply
fell before his trees, and none but a tall, ghastly,
frightful creature, who, through continual indis-
position, has little enjoyment of life, and therefore
scorns the world, because the world scorns her ;
none but an antiquated idiot, who affects learning,
pretends to a knowledge of canonical books, and to
assist in writing a new moral and critical reforma-
tion of the Christian religion, expressing the utmost
contempt of Lavater's enthusiasm-none, I say, but
such a wretch as this, could have cut down these
walnut-trees ! Oh, my friend, I shall never forget
them ; I can never forgive her ! But the absurd
reason she gives for this wantonness increases my
indignation ; the leaves, forsooth, which fell from
them made the yard damp and dirty, the spreading
branches intercepted the light, and the little boys
throwing stones at the nuts affected her delicate
nerves, and interrupted her profound meditations,
while she was employed in weighing the respective
merits of Kennicott, Semler, and Michaelis. When
I perceived that her conduct had offended all the
inhabitants of the place, particularly the veterans,
I inquired of them how they came to permit it,
142 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

but their reply was, " Ah, my good sir, when the
steward delivers his orders, what can poor peasants
do ? " One circumstance, however, has afforded me
some satisfaction : the steward and the vicar ex-
pecting to reap some emolument from this woman's
caprice, had privately agreed to divide the profits
arising from these trees between them ; but the
revenue officer having been apprized of the busi-
ness, took possession of them, and sold them to the
best bidder ; add to which, they are still lying on
the ground. Oh, if I were some powerful prince,
how would I punish the vicar, his wife, the steward,
and the revenue officer ! But no, no, my friend !
had I been born a prince, I should never have
enjoyed the felicity of Charlotte's company under
those umbrageous trees, the fate of which I now so
much lament.

LETTER LXVII.
Oct. 10.

To me it is supreme happiness only to behold her

sparkling dark eyes. I am grieved, indeed, to find
that Albert does not seem so happy as he expected
to be, as I should have been if I hate
broken sentences, and yet I cannot otherwise
express myself. Good heaven ! and am I not suf-
ficiently explicit ?
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 143

LETTER LXVIII .
Oct. 12.

Ossian has completely banished Homer from my

heart and imagination ; into what a world does
this divine bard lead me ! there to wander through
heaths and wilds, surrounded by impetuous whirl-
winds, to see by the feeble light of the moon the
spirits of our beloved ancestors, to hear from the
mountain tops; amidst the roaring of the waves,
their plaintive sounds issuing from the deep caverns,
and the sad lamentations of the love-sick maid,
who heaves her last sigh over the mossy tomb of
the hero by whom she was adored ! I meet this
bard, with silver hair, wandering in the valley,
and seeking the footsteps of his fathers-their
tombs, alas ! are all he finds ! then contemplating
the pale moon, as she sinks beneath the waves of
the foaming deep, the recollection of times past
occurs to the hero's mind, those times when the
approach of danger gladdened his heart and invigo-
rated his frame, when the moon shone upon his
bark, then laden with his enemies' spoils, and
lighted up with his triumph ! When I read in his
countenance the deepest sorrow, when I see his
once dazzling glory sinking into the grave, when
he casts a look on the cold clay which is to cover
him, and exclaims, " The traveller, who has been
144 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

acquainted with my worth, will come and inquire

for the heart-inspiring bard, the illustrious son of
Fingal, he will walk over my tomb, but he will
seek me in vain," then, oh then, my dear friend, I
could seize the sword of some noble, valiant knight,
and when I had rescued my prince from the tedious
agonies of lingering life, plunge it into my own
breast, that I might follow the demi-god whom I
had liberated.

LETTER LXIX .
Oct. 19 .

Он, the inexpressible, the fearful void which per-

vades my bosom ! Sometimes, amidst the flights
of imagination, I fondly fancy that if I could but
once, only once press her to my heart, my happi-
ness would be complete.

LETTER LXX.
Oct. 26.

I AM now, my dear friend, most perfectly satisfied

that the existence of any individual can be of no
importance to society. Charlotte having received
a visit from some particular friend, I consequently
retired into the adjoining room : I took up a book,
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 145

but not being disposed for reading, threw it aside,

and took up the pen to address my friend. Thus,
I candidly acknowledge how little you are obliged
to me for this letter. Even now I overhear their
conversation ; they are telling each other the
common occurrences of the town : one is going to
be married, another is exceedingly ill, a dreadful
hectic cough and continual faintings, there are no
hopes of recovery. " Mr. S is also in a

dangerous way," says Charlotte. "Ah ! " replies

the other, " I think myself now near their bed-
sides : I think I see them struggling with the
tyrant death, and, during all their agonies and
torments, wishing to live a little longer. " And
yet, my friend, these worthy young ladies are talk-
ing of their dying friends with all the composure
and indifference as if they were utter strangers.
Oh, heaven ! when I look round the apartment
where I now am, when I perceive Charlotte's
clothes, her trinkets, Albert's papers all scattered
about, the various things which are so familiar to
me, even the very inkstand which I am at present
using, I immediately reflect on what I am to this
family ; I am everything, they esteem me, they
are happy in my company, and I am convinced
that without themI should be miserable ; yet, were
I suddenly to leave them, how long would they be
sensible of that vacuum which my absence would
146 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

occasion ? How long ! alas ! such is the frailty of

man, that where he most enjoys himself, and where
his presence most contributes to the joy of others,
where he lives in the hearts of his dearest friends,
there must he perish, and his name be soon for-
gotten !

LETTER LXXI .
Oct. 27.

Он, I could tear open my breast, I could dash my

head against the wall, when I experience the dis-
appointment of disclosing my heart to another,
who is incapable of sympathising with its feelings !
I cannot receive from another the love, the joy, the
rapture, the pleasure, which accord not with my
own feeling ; nor can I, with a heart glowing with
the most lively sensations, communicate to another
that happiness which nature has rendered him
incapable of feeling.

LETTER LXXII .
Evening.
IMAGINATION gives me more than enough ; the
thought of Charlotte's lovely self obliterates every
other idea, and renders all around me paradise ;
the world without her would indeed be nothing !
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 147

LETTER LXXIII .
Oct. 30.

A THOUSAND times have I been tempted to throw

my arms round her angelic waist and clasp her to
my panting bosom ! Heavens ! it is torture to
have such loveliness continually in view, and yet
not dare to touch it ! To touch, is one of the first
impulses of nature ; do not little infants endeavour
to grasp at whatever strikes their fancy ? and I
-yes, yes- I am a child indeed !

LETTER LXXIV .
Nov. 3 .

How often, when about to close my eyes in bed,

have I earnestly prayed that I might never open
them again, yet, in the morning, I have opened
them, again beheld the sun, and again felt all
my former wretchedness ! Alas ! why am I not
hypochondriacal, or mad ? why am I not per-
mitted to ascribe this pungent misery to the effects
of an intemperate climate, to disappointed am-
bition, or the malevolence of a persecuting enemy ?
this burthen of sorrow would be then more toler-
able ! but now, alas ! it is too sensibly felt, for it
148 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

rests entirely upon myself, I alone am the origin

of all. This very bosom, which was formerly the
seat of mirth and tranquillity, is now the melancholy
source of innumerable sorrows ! I am not what I
was ! formerly none but the most agreeable sen-
sations ruled my mind ; wherever I went the sur-
rounding country seemed to me as paradise, and
philanthropy glowed within my heart ! but ah !
cold apathy now freezes that heart, and it is dead
to every enjoyment ; my eyes are dry, they are
no longer moistened with the refreshing tears of
sensibility ; my senses fail me, they no longer
assist my brain ! My sufferings are beyond ex-
pression, for I have lost the only charm of life, that
noble, active faculty, which created worlds around
me, it is no more ! From my window I see the
distant hills, the rising sun dispels the breaking
clouds, and gilds the opening prospect with his
radiant beams, the gentle stream winds softly
through the naked willows, nature still displays
all her wonderful beauties, still exhibits the most
delightful scenes, yet my heart is now insensible,
I remain blind -unmoved -inanimate ! Oft have
I prostrated myself upon the earth, imploring
heaven for tears, as the farmer prays for rain to
moisten his parched ground. But I see heaven
will not grant either rain or sunshine to im-
moderate importunities. Former times, the recol
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 149

lection of which tears my very heart, were indeed

happy, for I patiently waited the will of Heaven,
and was grateful for all its blessings.

LETTER LXXV.
Νου. 8 .

I HAVE been tenderly reproved by Charlotte for

my late excesses ; for, to confess the truth, my
dear friend, I have, for some time past, exceeded
my usual quantity of wine, in order to drown care.
" Pray (said she), don't do so, think of Charlotte."
" Alas ! how unnecessary that advice ; I do think
of you, and more than think, you are for ever before
my eyes, you are for ever in my heart ! This very
morning I was sitting in the place where you were
the preceding day " hereupon she changed the
subject ; indeed, my friend, I am a mere puppet,
which this dear divine creature can make to move
and act as she pleases.

LETTER LXXVI.
Νου. 15 .

I THANK my friend sincerely for his kind advice,

and more especially for his generous endeavours to
150 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

mend my situation ; but wherefore take this un-

necessary trouble ? leave me to myself, unhappy as
I am, I am still able to endure my sufferings. *

LETTER LXXVII .
Νου. 21 .

CHARLOTTE little thinks that she is preparing a

poison for me, which in all probability will destroy
us both. To me she presents the deadly draught,
and I swallow it in large potations. What mean
those tender looks, which are sometimes bestowed
on me that courtesy, which listens to all the
occasional sentiments which escape me ; that sym-
pathy, which I sometimes read in her angelic face ?
When I took leave of her yesterday, she held out
her hand, and said, " Farewell, dear Werter ! "
dear Werter ! It struck my very heart, it was the
first time I had ever heard her call me dear-I shall
never never forget the tender sound a thousand
times have I repeated it since ; and last night,
* The remainder of this letter relates to religion, and some-
what accords with the writer's sentiments upon suicide ; it is
therefore omitted. Another translator has substituted a letter
of his own : but, however he may boast of his inventive talents,
he has certainly imposed upon his readers.-TRANSLATOR.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 151

when I went to bed, I involuntary cried, "Good

night, dear Werter. " I recollected myself, and
smiled at the self-compliment.

LETTER LXXVIII.
Νου. 22.

I CANNOT solicit heaven that she may be mine

soon, yet I frequently imagine her mine already.
I cannot solicit that she may be mine now, for she
is already another's ! Fruitless my sorrows, un-
availing my complaints ; oh, that this heart and I
could separate !

LETTER LXXIX.
Νου. 24 .

CHARLOTTE is now conscious of my sufferings.

To-day I found her alone, her looks quite overcame
me, and I was silent. She fixed her eyes stedfastly
upon me, the fire of genius and the charms of
beauty were gone ; but there was something in her
countenance which spoke more forcibly-which
spoke the kindest compassion, the tenderest con-
cern. Why did false ceremony prevent me from
152 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

falling at her feet, from embracing her, and grate-

fully repaying her pity with a thousand kisses ?
During my embarrassment she went to her harpsi-
chord, and, in a soft melodious voice, accompanied
the plaintive sounds. Her lips never appeared so
lovely, they seemed to open just to receive the
notes of the instrument, and assist the vibration
with double harmony. My feelings were beyond
expression. I was quite overpowered, and bending
low, I made the following solemn protestation :-
" Sweet lips, which angels seem to protect, never will
I think of profaning you ! " And yet how I wish to
taste this felicity ; but no, impossible ! here is an
eternal barrier between us. But could I live one
moment on those lips, I would contentedly die the
next !

LETTER LXXX.
Νου. 26.

SOMETIMES I think my fate is singular, that other

people are blessed, and I alone am cursed. Then
perusing some ancient bard, I read as if it was
expressed of myself:-" When will these sorrows
cease ? was there ever such a wretch ? "
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 153

LETTER LXXXI .
Nov. 30.

My fate I see is decided, everything conspires to

augment my distress, and indicates my future
destiny.
This day, about dinner time, having no inclina-
tion to sit down to the table, I took a solitary walk
by the river-side ; the country appeared all deserted,
the day was gloomy, a cold easterly wind blew
from the hills, and black, heavy clouds overspread
the plain. At a distance I saw a man in an old
great-coat, who was wandering amongst the rocks,
and apparently looking for plants. As soon as I
approached him he turned round, when I perceived
a very interesting countenance expressive of a
settled melancholy. His fine black hair was flow-
ing negligently over his shoulders. I asked him
what he was looking for; he replied, with a far-
fetched sigh, " I am looking, sir, for flowers, but I
have not been able to meet with even one. " I told
him this was not the season for flowers. " But, "
said he, " there are many flowers, notwithstanding :
I have several roses and lilies in my garden ; my ‫دو‬

father gave me one sort, they grow everywhere ; I

have been these two whole days in search of some,
but I can find none. There are always flowers,
154 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

yellow, blue, and red, in the fields here, particularly

the centaury, which grows in such pretty clusters,
and yet I can find none of any sort." I now asked
him for what he wanted these flowers ? He smiled,
and holding up his finger with a distrustful air,
" Be sure you tell no one," he cried ; " I have
promised my dear girl a nosegay ! " " That was
right," I told him. " Oh, she possesses everything,"
he continued ; " she is very, very rich." " But," I
interrupted, " she is partial to your nosegays."
" Oh," continued he, " she has jewels and a crown ? "
I inquired her name, still he ran on " if the States
General would pay me, then I should be a different
sort of a man. Ah me ! there was a time when I
was happy, very, very happy ! but that time is
‫دو‬
gone, 'tis past, 'tis past ! and here he raised his
swimming eyes to heaven. “ There was a time,
then," said I, " that you were happy ! " “ Ah,"
he replied, " would to Heaven I was the same now,
yes, I was happy then, so merry, so contented, I
was like a fish in the water. " An old woman, who
was now advancing towards us, exclaimed, “ Henry,
Henry ! where have you been ? I have been looking
for you everywhere. Come, dinner is ready." I
asked her if he was her son. " Yes," she replied,
66

my poor unfortunate boy ! Heaven has been

pleased to send us this affliction ! " I then inquired
if he had been long in this condition ? She answered,
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 155

" He has been as quiet as he is now for about six

months, Heaven be praised ! he was one whole year
quite raving, and chained down in a mad-house ; at
present he is quite inoffensive, he does nobody any
harm ; but his entire discourse is about kings and
emperors. He was a worthy creature, and formerly
helped to maintain me. He wrote an excellent
hand, but all of a sudden became melancholy, was
seized with a burning fever, grew outrageously
mad, and is now as you see him. Ah, sir, if you
knew--" I interrupted her by inquiring what
was the happy time he alluded to ? "Ah, poor
lad ! " she answered, with a smile of compassion,
" that was the time, sir, when he was outrageously
mad, and confined ; he never ceases to regret it. "
I was amazed, and putting some money into her
hand, we parted.
" You were happy," said I to myself, while hastily
walking back. " You were then like a fish in the
water. " Good Heaven ! is this the fate of man ?
Is he only happy before he attains reason, and after
he has lost it ? Poor wretch ! and yet how I envy
thy condition, full of hopes thou goest to gather
flowers for thy queen in winter ! thou art distressed
at not finding them, and canst not account for thy
disappointment ; but, as for me, I walk out with-
out any hope, or any view, and return just the
same. To thy disordered imagination, it seems,
156 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

that if paid by the States General, thou wouldst

then be a man of consequence ; and it is fortunate
for thee that thou canst ascribe thy sufferings to
any foreign power. Thou dost not know, thou
dost not feel, that all thy pain arises from a de-
ranged mind, a disordered brain, and that all the
monarchs in the world could not relieve thee. May
they die without hope, who can laugh at the sick
man that travels to distant springs only to increase
his complaint, and render death more painful ! or
who triumph over the desponding soul that, to
alleviate the stings of conscience, and quiet the
mind, makes a pilgrimage to the Holy Land !
Every step of the rugged path which lacerates his
feet, is balm to his heart, and every night of his
journey brings him nearer to hope and consolation.
Will you presume to call this extravagance ; you
who raise yourselves upon stilts to make flowery
orations ? Extravagance ! Oh heavens ! is not our
allotted portion of misery sufficient, without being
increased by the harassing follies of our neighbours ?
The strengthening and cherishing vine, the salutary
and healing plant, relief and saving health, are all
divine dispensations. Omnipotent Father ! whom
I know not, thou who was wont to cheer my gloomy
soul, why hast thou forsaken me ? Call back thy
wanderer, speak comfort to his heart, my soul
thirsts after thee, and cannot brook thy silence !
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 157

Can a father be enraged with his son who suddenly

enters his presence, hangs on his neck, and cries
" Forgive me, dear father, for having shortened my
journey, and returned before the appointed time !
The world I found everywhere the same : labour,
trouble, pleasure, reward, all were indifferent to
me ; in thy presence only can be happiness, and thy
presence I seek, be the consequence what it may ! "

LETTER LXXXII .
Dec. 1.

Он my friend ! that poor insane wretch, whom I

mentioned in my last, but whose wretchedness is
much to be envied, was clerk to Charlotte's father.
He became unfortunately attached to her, cherished
and concealed his passion, but at last discovered it :
accordingly he was dismissed, and became the
maniac as was described. Conceive, if possible,
what an impression this brief discovery made upon
me, a discovery which Albert communicated with
as much calm indifference as, in all probability,
you will now receive it.
158 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

LETTER LXXXIII.
Dec. 4.

INDEED, my friend, I can support this state no

longer. I was with Charlotte to-day ; she was
playing upon her harpsichord with an expression
that is beyond expression. Her little sister was
dressing her doll upon my lap. Tears stole down
my cheeks. In leaning over I happened to see her
wedding ring, and my tears now multiplying be-
came a torrent. She then immediately began a
favourite air, which has often charmed and com-
posed me. A while it afforded the desired consola-
tion, but soon it brought to recollection the happy
time which is past. Misery, disappointment ! I
started up, walked about the room with hasty
steps. At last I went up to her, and eagerly
exclaimed, " For Heaven's sake forbear to play that
tune ! " She stopped-stared at me ; and with a
smile which penetrated my very heart, said, " Indeed,
Werter, I fear you are very ill ; you have taken a
strange aversion to your most favourite food. Pray
go, and endeavour to compose yourself." I tore
myself from her. Good Heaven ! thou seest my
agonies, and, I trust, will terminate them.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 159

LETTER LXXXIV .
Dec. 6.
CHARLOTTE's image haunts me. Awake or asleep,
my tortured fancy sees her. When I seek repose
I find her lovely dark eyes imprinted on my brain.
Here I cannot explain myself. No sooner do I
close my weary eyelids than her sweet form floats
before my imagination, and the airy phantom
subdues all my faculties. What is man ? That
boasted demi-god ! When he requires exertion, his
strength forsakes him ; whether he swims in the tide
of pleasure or stems the torrent of misery he must
one day stop ; and though immortality be his hope,
his assurance is, that to his cold, original existence
he must soon return.

THE EDITOR ( GOETHE) TO THE READER.

(Including additional Letters.)

For the sake of giving a more connected account of

the last days of Werter, it is absolutely expedient
to interrupt the course of his letters by a short
narrative, the particulars of which have been
furnished by the old steward, Albert, Charlotte, his
own servant, and the people with whom he lodged.
160 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

The unfortunate passion which Werter had enter-

tained for Charlotte had insensibly diminished the
harmony which at first subsisted between her and
Albert. The husband's affection was sincere, but
moderate, and by degrees gave way to his greater
partiality for business. Yet he did not acknow-
ledge, nor even think, that there was any great
difference between his days of courtship and those
of marriage. However, the marked attention of
Werter to his wife gave him secret uneasiness, for
this attention not only appeared an infringement
onhis rights, but a tacit reproach for his inattention.
What rendered him still more dissatisfied and
peevish were the increasing difficulties of his em-
ployment and the decreasing emolument. The
sorrow which preyed on Werter's mind had wholly
extinguished the fire of his genius, deprived him of
his wonted vivacity and quickness of perception,
and rendered him in company spiritless and in-
active. Charlotte, who saw him every day, was
naturally affected at this sudden change, and be-
came equally dull and thoughtful. This melancholy
Albert deemed the effect of an increasing passion
for her lover, while Werter imputed it to his
apparent neglect of her. The want of confidenc
which had formerly subsisted between these tw f
friends rendered their company mutually disagree C
able. Albert never would enter his wife's apart t
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 161

ment when he knew Werter was there, and Werter,

who perceived his dissatisfaction, having in vain
endeavoured to discontinue his visits entirely, would
never see Charlotte but when he knew her husband
was engaged. These secret visits increased Albert's
discontent and jealousy, and he took an opportunity
of seriously informing his wife that, were it for the
sake of appearance only, she should conduct herself
in another manner towards Werter, and not admit
him so often into her presence. About this time
the unfortunate Werter meditated on self-destruc-
tion. This had long been the subject of his con-
templation, particularly since his return from
Charlotte's neighbourhood. The idea had been
always fondly cherished, but he was unwilling to
- perpetrate the serious deed with too much rashness
- and precipitation : he was determined to act like a
man, with resolution, yet with calmness.
Having called on the 8th of December to see
Charlotte as usual, he found her family in the
greatest confusion. Her eldest brother informed
him that the cause of this general consternation
was a sad calamity which had happened the pre-
hceding night-a peasant was murdered. Werter
er did not seem at first much concerned at this in-
wformation. He entered the apartment where
Charlotte was, and perceived her earnestly impor-
a tuning her father (who was anxious to inquire into
F-36
162 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

the circumstances of this murder) not to venture

abroad on account of his late severe indisposition.
Intelligence was brought that the body had been
found at daybreak before the door of a house. The
murderer was as yet undiscovered, but there were
strong suspicions, for the deceased was a servant to
a widow, who previously had another servant that
quitted her service with apparent dissatisfaction.
Werter, startled at this report, hastily rose, and
exclaimed, " Is it possible ! I must go to Walheim
immediately ; I can stay no longer." Accordingly
he repaired with haste to Walheim ; and his
imagination increasing, he began to be confirmed in
his opinion that the young peasant whom he had so
frequently addressed, and to whom he was so much
attached, was the unfortunate offender. As soon
as he approached the inn, which was surrounded by
all the inhabitants of the town, he heard a general
clamour, and perceived at a distance a large body
of armed people, while distant shouts proclaimed
that the murderer was apprehended. Werter's
suspicions were now confirmed. It was, indeed,
the very youth who was so violently attached to
the widow, and whom not long before this he had
met, straying about, with looks of smothered anger
and concealed despair. " Poor wretch ! " exclaimed
Werter, approaching the prisoner. " What have
you done ? " The youth beheld him with calm
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 163

indifference-was silent for some minutes, but at

length broke out, " No one shall have her ; she
shall never be another's. " The prisoner was con-
ducted into the inn, and Werter departed hastily.
Discomposed by this melancholy scene, he became
inexpressibly melancholy, and the sympathy which
it excited was accompanied with an ardent desire
to save the love-sick lad. He thought him so un-
fortunate that, guilty as he was, he deemed him
guiltless ; and, impressed with this idea, presumed
he could make his innocence appear. He returned
with all possible speed, and entering the Steward's
apartment, quite exhausted and breathless in order
to speak in the prisoner's behalf, he suddenly met
Albert there, whose unexpected presence added to
his discomposure. He endeavoured, however, to
collect his spirits on this occasion, and began warmly
to espouse the young man's cause. During his
short, but pithy intercession, the Steward frequently
shook his head, and at last interrupted him by a
severe reprimand for attempting to defend a
murderer. " There would be no use for law there
could be no security, if such mistaken lenity was to
take place. Besides (added he) I must perform the
duties of a magistrate, and the law must take its
regular course."
Notwithstanding all this discouragement, Werter
still continued his solicitations, and even hinted a
164 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

wish that the lad might be offorded an opportunity

to make his escape, proposing his own assistance
for that purpose. Albert, who had all this while
been silently attentive, now delivered his sentiments
in concurrence with those of the Steward, which so
exceedingly mortified Werter that he left the room
in extreme agitation, while the old gentleman had
just exclaimed, " Impossible ! he must not be
saved."
The deep impression which these words had made
upon his mind will appear from the following letter,
which was certainly written on the same day, and
was afterwards found among his manuscripts.

LETTER LXXXV.

UNFORTUNATE youth. Thy doom is fixed. Thou

art not to be saved. Alas ! evident destruction
awaits us both.
* * *
* * * *

Werter, it seems, was sensibly affected by what

Albert had then said. Indeed, he imagined that
his observations had been pointed at him ; and
though, on mature deliberation, he must have been
convinced that both these gentlemen's ideas were
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 165

just, yet the supposed sarcasm rendered him more

determined on suicide. His various doubts and
struggles may be seen by the following fragment of
a letter intended for his friend, and which was also
found among his papers.

LETTER LXXXVI .

Her divine presence, her sweet smiles, the interest

she seems to take in my fate, almost draw tears
from my disordered my exhausted brain. The
poor peasant could not bear the loss of his mistress ;
could not bear a rival in his love. Alas, why was
the Steward so inexorable ? he might have been
saved ! To draw the curtain, and pass to the other
side, that is all. Why then these doubts, these
fears ? Because we are ignorant what may follow ;
there is no possibility of returning. Where there
is uncertainty, the mind is naturally confused and
intimidated.
* *
* * * * *

While Secretary to the Ambassador, the various

mortifications he had endured were never forgotten.
On the contrary, they stung him deeply, he thought
himself degraded, his pride was hurt, and he conse-
quently became disgusted with all public business
 166 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .
1

and political affairs. From that time he became

dissatisfied with the world, and indulged those ex-
travagant opinions, those extraordinary sentiments,
with which his letters abound, and that ill-fated,
that boundless passion, which tended to consume
all his remaining vigour. The continued sameness
of his situation, the sadness of his interviews with
the most amiable and beloved of her sex, whose
peace of mind he had disturbed ; his conflicts, his
struggles, and the thoughts of living for nothing,
all combined to fix his determination of leaving a
wretched world.
The following letters which he left behind, with
several others, will be sufficient testimony of his
disordered mind.

LETTER LXXXVII .
Dec. 12 .

INDEED, my friend, I am certainly affected as those

poor wretches who were formerly supposed to be
possessed by devils. I am subject to sudden starts,
and strange emotions ; it is not agony, it is not
passion, but a secret rage, which preys upon my
mind, and almost suffocates me. While in this
wretched state I suddenly rise, and frequently
wander at midnight amidst those gloomy scenes
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 167

which the present unfriendly season exhibits. Thus

was I induced to roam last night. I heard that
the river and all the neighbouring brooks had
overflowed their banks, and that, from Walheim to
my favourite valley, was under water. Thither I
ran, though past eleven o'clock. The sight was
gloomy and awful, the moon was behind a cloud ;
but a few of her scattered beams discovered the
foaming waves overspreading the fields, and beating
against the thickets. The whole valley formed a
stormy sea, agitated by furious winds. The moon
then emerging from a dark cloud increased by her
splendour the disorder of nature. Echoes not only
repeated, but redoubled the roarings of the wind
and waters. I approached the precipice. I wished,
but trembled. I stretched out my arms, I leaned
over, I sighed, I lost myself in the pleasing idea of
burying all my calamities, my torments; in that
abyss and agitation of the waves. Why were my
feet riveted to the earth ? Why not have termi-
nated all my sorrows ? But I feel it, my friend ;
my hour is not yet come ! Oh, with what joy
would I have changed my nature, and have incor-
porated with the whirlwinds, to rend the clouds
and agitate the deep. With sorrow I beheld a
little spot where once, after a summer's ramble, I sat
under a willow by the side of Charlotte : this also
was under water, and I could scarcely distinguish
168 THE SORROWS OF WERTER.

the tree. Ah, my friend, I then thought of the

Steward's house, the surrounding fields, our favourite
walks, the green recesses, all perhaps spoiled by
the torrent ; and the recollection of these precious
moments distracted my heart ! Thus the sleeping
captive, by dreams, is reminded of those very
blessings of which he is deprived. I declined, but
I don't reproach myself, for still I have courage-
to die ! and so I should. At present I am like a
poor old feeble woman, who picks dry sticks along
the hedge-side, and supplicates bread from house
to house, in order to prolong a wretched existence.

LETTER LXXXVIII .
Dec. 14.

THOUGH I cannot account for it, my friend, still my

mind is distracted. Is not my love for Charlotte
most pure and sacred ; is it not the love of a
brother for his sister ? Did ever I conceive a wish
that was dishonourable ? Oaths are unnecessary
to confirm my innocence. And now, such dreams !
Good Heaven ! they were certainly in the right
who ascribed contending passions to extraneous
powers. Even last night-I tremble while I write
it-last night I held her in my arms. I clasped
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 169

her to my bosom, and on her trembling lips im-

printed burning, luxuriant kisses. Her eyes were
full of melting softness ; mine beamed with joy and
rapture. Can the pleasure which now I feel in
recollecting this imaginary pleasure be a crime ?
Oh, Charlotte, Charlotte, my doom is fixed. I
can no longer endure this perturbed, this disordered
state, I am distracted, I have not been myself this
whole week. My eyes swim with tears, every
place to me is alike, for in none can I find peace !
I desire nothing, yet wish for everything. Ah,
me ! 'twere better far to quit this world at once !

LETTER LXXXIX .
Dec. 20.
I THANK my friend for his kind and seasonable
intimation of what I should do-yes, it was properly
urged, indeed, that I should at once quit my present
station ; but your advice which follows of imme-
diately returning to your neighbourhood by no
means meets my approbation. I conceive that a
ramble in my romantic way will have a much better
effect on my scattered spirits, particularly as we
now expect a frost, and consequently good roads,
Your friendship charms me when you propose
170 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

coming to fetch me, but, I must entreat you will

postpone your intention for about ten days, or a
fortnight, and not set out on yourjourney till you
receive another letter from me. We should not be
in a hurry to gather fruit before it is ripe ; and a
fortnight, you know, either before or after, makes
a material difference. Desire my mother to re-
member me in her prayers, and assure her that I
am exceedingly sorry for all the unintended distress
I have brought on her. Alas, my friend ! it has
long been my fate to communicate misery where
most of all I wished to confer happiness. Fare-
well, my dearest friend, and may all those blessings
which you so richly deserve be ever yours ! I need
not wish you more. Adieu !
*
* * * * * *

The day on which Werter wrote this last letter,

(which was Sunday, preceding Christmas) he
called on Charlotte in the dusk of the evening.
He found her alone, and busy, according to her
annual custom, in preparing Christmas presents
for her sisters and brothers. He began his con-
versation with remarks on the innocent diversions
of the season, and the satisfaction and pleasure
they afforded to children. " Well, you shall have
a present, too, if you behave well," said Charlotte,
disguising the deep concern she felt for him with a
serene smile. Werter immediately replied : " What
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 171

do you call behaving well, my dear Charlotte ? "

She answered, " Thursday next will be Christmas
Eve-the children and my father will all be here, do
you also come, there is a present for each, but do
not come before Christmas Eve." Sudden aston-
ishment pervaded Werter's countenance -he would
have replied, but Charlotte prevented him by con-
tinuing, " Indeed it must be so, I request it may
-nay, I demand it as a particular favour, for
there are pressing -very pressing reasons : " then
in a milder tone of voice, accompanied with a most
engaging look, she tenderly added, “ Believe me,
'tis for our mutual peace and tranquillity I ask this
favour. Ah, Werter ! we must not go on in this
manner any longer. Come, then, resume your
former self, and conquer this unfortunate attach-
ment, a passion which I can only-only dare to
pity." Werter hung his head, and sighed-Char-
lotte, perceiving his dejection, took him by the
hand. " Be patient, Werter, be more resigned,
nor give way to this delusion, which can only
terminate in your destruction. Am I not married ?
-why, then, think of me ? indeed, I fear that 'tis
because I am married Werter indulges an unavail-
1 ing passion. " He now beheld her with a look of
keen resentment, and dismay. " Indeed ! Can
this be Charlotte's own opinion ? "-then with
hasty steps he walked up and down the room,
172 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

when, suddenly stopping, he exclaimed, “ No, it

cannot be--it is the narrow-minded sentiments of
sullen Albert ! " Charlotte, with all the suavity
she could command on the occasion, assured him
that he was blinded by his ungovernable passion,
that it was her sentiment-the sentiment of one
who highly respected his many amiable virtues-of
one who was interested in his favour, and felt
exceedingly for his thus giving way to a de-
structive passion. " Come," added she, " be your-
self again, and only think of me as an affectionate
friend. Consider what the world suffers when a
man of your exalted genius and talents secludes
himself from it. Enter again into the gay circles,
and seek another object for your love, one who
will deserve it, and is at liberty to return it. I
engage you will soon find one-the experiment at
least is worth your attention, and the journey will,
no doubt, tend to calm your ruffled mind. I do
not despair of your meeting with a worthy woman
-then return again, and we shall all participate
of that domestic peace and happiness which arise
from social friendship." " Dear Charlotte," said
Werter, with a significant smile, " that speech
should be printed for the benefit of all pedants and
moralists. I ask your indulgence but a little
longer, and then all, I trust, will be well." "But
Werter, don't let me see you," said she, " before
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 173

Thursday night." He was going to answer, but

Albert suddenly entered. He coldly saluted Wer-
ter, who walked up and down the room with evi-
dent embarrassment. They talked of various sub-
jects, but soon forgot them all-Albert interro-
gated Charlotte about some trifling commissions
which he had given her, and finding that she had
been remiss, uttered such keen reproaches as cut
the very heart of Werter. He wished to depart,
but knew not how, and, in this embarrassed situa-
tion remained till about eight o'clock ; during
which time, his agitation and acrimony were con-
tinually increasing ; at last the servant laid the
cloth, and Werter then took his leave, Albert
giving him but a cold invitation to stay for supper.
With deep melancholy, and slow pace, he now re-
turned home, took the candle from the servant,
and silently, and alone, went up to his chamber.
He was heard to weep bitterly, to talk with great
earnestness, and to walk hastily up and down his
room. At length, without undressing, he threw
himself on the bed, where his servant, (who then
ventured in) found him at eleven o'clock. Werter
permitted him to assist in taking off his boots, but
desired him not to come in again till he rang for
him.
The following letter, written Monday morning,
Dec. 21, was found, after his decease, sealed in
174 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

his bureau. It was delivered to Charlotte, accord-

ing to the address, and is here inserted in the un-
connected state it seems to have been written.

LETTER XC.

DEAR CHARLOTTE, 'Tis fixed-I am resolved on

death ! I tell you so with coolness and delibera-
tion, without any sudden transport-any burning
rage. Dearest and most amiable of women, ere
you read these lines the inanimate remains of the
poor wretch, whose greatest pleasure in his last
moments was conversing with you, will be deposited
in a cold grave. Oh ! what a dreadful night of
ceaseless perturbation I have passed ! Yet I may
call it an auspicious night, for it has removed all
my fears and fixed my wavering mind-yes ; I
am resolved on death ! Yesterday, when I tore
myself away from you, my senses, like the elements,
were clouded and unsettled, my heart was sad ;
without hope, without one ray of pleasure, and my
whole frame was cold as ice ! It was with
difficulty I reached home. When I entered my
chamber I threw myself on my knees, and heaven
was pleased to grant me, for the last time, the
relief of generous tears. A thousand ideas, a
thousand different projects racked my troubled
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 175

soul. At length that thought, which has fre-

quently occurred, now took deep root within me-
death ! It is not despair, but a conviction that
life is not worth keeping. I have certainly com-
pleted my sufferings, for the cup of sorrow is
brim-full-I have now reached the goal, the sacri-
fice must be made for happiness sake ; yes, dearest
Charlotte, your happiness-one of us three must
perish, and shall Werter hesitate to be that one ?
Oh, beloved angel ! more than once has this
unruly mind, governed by rage and madness, con-
ceived the horrid, impious thought, of murdering
your husband ! 'tis just, then, I should die !
* * *
* * * *

About ten o'clock in the morning Werter rung

the bell, and told the servant to lay his clothes in
order, to call in his bills, to fetch home some books
he had lent, and to advance two months pay to all
those poor people who were accustomed to receive
from him a weekly allowance ; as, in a few days, he
was going to take a long journey. He breakfasted
in his chamber, and afterwards went on horseback
to the Steward's, whom he did not find at home.
He now took a solitary walk in the garden,
indulging himself with painful reflections. The
children, anxious to see him, soon interrupted
his solitude, and while dancing and playing about
him said, " that after to-morrow, and to-morrow,
176 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

and one day more, they were to receive their

Christmas presents from their sister," and then
begun, according to their fond imaginations, to
paint to him all the wonderful things which they
expected. " To-morrow, ” cried he, “ and to-morrow,
and one day more," then, preparing to go, he em-
braced them alternately with the greatest tender-
ness ; but the youngest boy stopped him to say
that his eldest brother had written very pretty
complimentary verses on the new year, for all
friends ; and that they were to be presented early
on New Year's Day-one to papa, one to Albert,
one to Charlotte, and one to Werter. At this he
was very much affected-his fortitude entirely
forsook him, and giving each of the children a
present, at the same time enjoining them to give
his best respects to their father, he left them with
great emotion. On his return home he desired his
servant to keep up the fire, to pack up his books
and linen at the bottom of the trunk, and lay his
clothes over them. The following letter to Char-
lotte appears to be written at this time :-

LETTER XCI.
BELOVED,-You do not expect me ! You think I
shall obey you, and that I shall not see you till
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 177

Christmas Eve. Oh, dearest angel, to-day or

never ! On Christmas Eve you will hold this
paper in your trembling hand, and wet it with the
tears of pity ! Yes, Charlotte ; it is decreed, and I
am satisfied, well satisfied, that it is finally resolved.
* * *
* * * *

He called upon Charlotte about six the same

day. She had no opportunity to deny herself, for
he rushed in and found her alone, sitting. Her
confusion was great when she saw him, having, in
a late conversation with Albert, assured him that
Werter did not mean to repeat his visit till Christ-
mas Eve, who accordingly, though a very wet day,
rode out in order to settle some business. She
was exceedingly distressed at this unkind inter-
ruption. She was, however, conscious of her own
innocence. She loved her husband, and she
pitied Werter. As soon as he appeared she said to
him with tears, " Werter, you have not kept your
word." " I made no promise," he replied. " But,"
66
rejoined Charlotte, you should have complied
with my request for both our sakes." She sent
immediately to some of her friends, and requested
their company that evening, not only for the sake
of their being witnesses of their conversation, but
that Werter, in order to see them safe home, might
be induced to leave her sooner. He brought her
some books, which, and others that he had beforelent
178 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

her, became the subject of their discourse. She also

introduced some other topics during the time her
friends were expected ; but presently the servant
returned with different excuses from them all.
This disappointment disconcerted her for a while,
but, conscious of her innocence, she soon recovered
her spirits, and felt herself inspired with a laudable
confidence that fortified her mind against all
Albert's mean suspicions. At first she intended
that the servant maid should remain in the room,
but, satisfied with the purity of her own heart,
she rejected the intention. She went to her
harpsichord, played a few of her favourite airs, and
became perfectly composed ; then, sitting beside
Werter on the sofa, she asked him if he had any-
thing to read to her. He gravely replied,
66

Nothing." " Open then that drawer," she cried,

" and you will there find your own translation of
the Songs of Ossian,' which I have not yet read.
I knew they would come better from your lips ;
but you have been so truant of late, I was un-
willing to ask you before." He smiled, and went
for the manuscript ; but when he took it up,
evinced a sudden emotion. He then sat down in
tears, and, with a faltering voice, began to read.
After some time he came to these affecting lines,
wherein Armin mourns the loss of his beloved
child :
-
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 179

ALONE, on the sea-beaten rock,

My daughter was heard to complain,
Loud and frequent, alas ! were her sighs-
The father's assistance was vain !

I stood on the shore all the night,

And by the pale moon saw her plain ;
All the night heard her heartrending cries,
Thongh loud was the wind-hard the rain !

Before the bright morning appeared,

Her voice, weak and faltering, alas !
Died away like the soft evening breeze
That passes the rock's slender grass-

Exhausted with grief she expired.

And left thee, poor Armin, alone !
Now lost is thy strength in the war,
Thy pride among women is gone !

When storms from the mountains burst forth,

On high when the billows they raise,
I sit by the sad sounding shore ;
On the rock, fatal rock, then I gaze.
Whene'er the moon's setting, I see
The shades of my dear children walk,
They seem half concealed from my view,
And sadly together they talk !

" In pity will none of you speak ? "

Not heeding their father they go ;
I'm sad, very sad, I'm indeed,
For great is the cause of my woe !
180 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

Here a flood of tears gushed from the eyes of Char-

lotte, which afforded some relief to the oppression
of her heart. Werter threw down the paper,
seized her hand, and bathed it with his tears.
Charlotte leaned on the other arm, and held her
handkerchief to her eyes ; they were both of them
exceedingly agitated. This sad story revived their
misfortunes, and excited their mutual sympathy.
The ardent eyes and lips of Werter were riveted
on her alabaster arms ; she trembled, and attempted
to leave the room, but grief and soft compassion
prevented her from moving ; relieved by sighs and
intervening tears, she begged him to proceed.
Werter, much exhausted, took up the paper, and,
with a faltering voice, continued his reading :-

Why dost thou awake me, O gale ?

I'm covered with dew-drops, it says,
But the time of my fading is near,
The blast which my foliage decays .

To -morrow the traveller shall come,

Who once saw me comely and bold;
His eyes shall the meadow search round,
But me they shall never behold !

These words, so applicable to our hero's situation,

like lightning penetrated his soul-wild, and full
of despair, he threw himself at Charlotte's feet, and
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 181

seizing her hands applied them first to his eyes

and then to his forehead. Charlotte, for the first
time, began to conceive his fatal intention. This
secret apprehension almost deprived her of her
senses ; with tenderness she pressed his hands,
pressed them to her bosom, and while, with
emotions of sweet sensibility, she was gently in-
clining her head towards him, her glowing cheek
accidentally touched his. During these perturbed
moments they were insensible of everything but
mutual affection. Werter clasped her in his arms,
pressed her to his throbbing heart, and on her
trembling lips impressed a thousand ardent kisses.
" Werter ! " she cried, with a faint, tremulous
voice, and turned her face from him, " Werter,”
she repeated, and with her feeble hand she removed
him from her, then, retreating a few steps, she
fixed upon him her eyes beaming with both majesty
and virtue, and once more called upon the name of
" Werter. " Seized with sudden awe, he respect-
fully moved farther, and fell on his knees ! she
trembling, now retired towards the door, and, in a
voice of pity, blended with resentment, thus
addressed him, " This is the last time, Werter !
You shall never see me again ! " Then, vouchsafing
the unhappy lover one look more of the utmost
tenderness, she hastened to her chamber and locked
herself in. Werter extended his arms to her, but
182 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

did not presume to detain her. For some time he

retained his melancholy posture on the ground,
with his head reclined on the sofa, but was at
length roused from his reverie by the noise of the
servant who was coming to lay the cloth. He
then walked up and down the room, and on the
servant's departure he approached the door of
Charlotte's chamber, and with a faint voice cried,
" Charlotte, Charlotte, one word more, only a last
farewell ! " He listened, but received no reply.
Again he entreated, and again listened, but in vain;
then, tearing himself from the place, he cried in
tremulous accents, " Dear, dearest Charlotte ! fare-
well, farewell for ever ! "
Quite exhausted, Werter now approached the
gate of the town ; the guard knew him, and let him
pass. The night was dark and stormy, with much
rain and snow. About eleven o'clock he reached
home ; his servant perceived he was without his
hat, but prudently declined taking any notice of it.
In assisting to undress him he found his clothes
exceedingly wet and dirty. The hat was after-
wards found upon the summit of a rock, situated
on the declivity of a mountain, where it is astonish-
ing he could have climbed in such a dark and
stormy night without falling down the precipice,
and being dashed to pieces. He went to bed, and
slept till late the next morning. When his servant
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER. 183

brought him his breakfast he was writing ; it was

the following continuation of his former letter to
Charlotte :-

LETTER XC.
(Continued.)
For the last time I now open my eyes, they will
never again see the rising sun, there is a cloud
forbids it ; they will never again behold thy angelic
form. Death must forbid it ! Death ! and what
is death ? eternal sleep ! We dream when we talk
of it. Have I not seen many die ? but such are
the limits of our circumscribed understandings,
that we are altogether ignorant of either the
beginning or end of our existence. At present I
am myself, or rather thine, dear Charlotte ; but
soon, alas ! we shall be separated, perhaps for ever !
Yet no, no, Charlotte, as we are sensible of our
present existence, annihilation is impossible. An-
nihilation ! another empty sound ! Death ! Ah,
Charlotte, interred in a dark, confined, cold grave !
Once I had a friend, the delight of my early days,
she died ! I followed her hearse, I stood near the
grave, and heard the creaking of the cords which
let down the coffin. When the first shovelful of
earth was thrown in, the coffin returned a hollow
sound ; these sounds gradually decreased, and the
184 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

grave at last was filled. I then threw myself on

the ground, my heart was oppressed, was smitten,
rent ! I was insensible of what then happened to
me, and equally ignorant of what was to happen.
Death ! Grave ! Unmeaning words !
Dearest Charlotte, forgive me. Yesterday !
Yesterday ! Oh, that fatal moment should have
terminated my life ; I should then have died happy,
for thou lovest me ! Oh, heaven ! thou lovest me !
I am transported by the very thought. These lips
still glow with the sacred warmth they received
from thine ! This heart still feels the rapture that
was then infused -yet to offend-forgive, dear
Charlotte-ah, forgive !
Yes, I thought I was dear to thee, I saw it in
the first animated look which thou directed to me,
I was conscious of it when first thou gently pressed
my hand. Yet, when I was absent from thee,
or when I perceived Albert by thy side, then all
my doubts, my fears returned ! Dost thou re-
member the flowers thou sent when at a crowded
assembly thou couldst neither speak to me nor give
me thy hand ? I passed half the night in adoring
these pledges of affection ; but what was that to
the pleasure received yesterday ? A whole eternity
could never efface the impression of your sweet
lips ! Thou lovest me ! These arms have embraced
thee, these lips, with rapture, have joined with
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 185

thine ! Thou art mine-yes, Charlotte, mine for

ever ! Albert is, I know, thy husband ; what
then ? And he is thy husband for life, therefore,
in this life, it would be deemed a crime to love
thee ; but I shall punish myself; I have already
tasted of pleasure, which has revived my drooping
spirits. I must not drink too deep, for fear ; but
thou art mine ; I go before thee to my Father-thy
Father at the foot of whose celestial throne I will
carry my sorrows, and hope for consolation till
thou comest ; then will I fly on seraph's wings to
meet thee, then will I claim thee, and we shall
remain together for ever. This is no dream, no fond
imagination, remember- We shall live hereafter, we
shall know, we shall see each other again.
* * * * * * *

About eleven o'clock, Werter inquired of his

servant if Albert was yet returned. He told him
he was, for he had seen him pass by on horseback.
Werter then gave him the following note, unsealed,
to carry to his house.
" I AM going to take a journey, pray lend me
your pistols. Adieu.
" WERTER . "

THE amiable Charlotte had passed the night in

the utmost distress and agitation. A thousand
painful sensations pressed upon her mind ! The
186 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

ardour of Werter's passionate embraces had, in spite

of all punctilious delicacies, found way to her heart.
She recollected all the former days of innocence and
tranquillity which, contrasted with the present,
seemed to have new charms. She dreaded the
frowns of Albert and his keen reproaches when he
should hear of Werter's visit. She had never been
guilty of a falsehood ; she had never practised dis-
simulation ; yet for the first time deemed it neces-
sary to conceal the truth. Her extreme delicacy
and the repugnance she felt made her fault appear
to her considerable, and yet she could neither hate
the author of it, nor determine on forbidding him
her presence. Sad and exhausted, she was scarcely
dressed when she saw Albert ; it was the first time
she saw him with dissatisfaction. She trembled
lest he should perceive she had been weeping, and
discover her languor for the want of sleep, while her
apprehensions on this score served to increase her
embarrassment. She received him with a kind of
eagerness which evinced more terror and confusion
than real satisfaction. This did not escape the
observant eye of Albert, who when he had opened
some letters gravely inquired if there were any
news, and if any one had called during his absence.
After some hesitation, she told him Werter had
called yesterday, and stayed about an hour. "He
chooses his time well," said Albert, and then retired
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 187

into his room. Charlotte now remained alone and

pensive for about a quarter of an hour. The presence
of a man whom she so cordially esteemed and loved
gave a new turn to her thoughts. His past kind-
ness, his benevolence, his integrity, his attachment
to her alone, all recurred to her mind, and she
reproached herself for having so ill requited him. A
secret impulse prompted her to follow him. On
entering the room where he was, she asked him if
he wanted anything. Albert coldly answered in
the negative, and began to write. She sat down to
work. He sometimes left the desk to walk up and
down the room, while these opportunities Charlotte
took of entering into conversation with him ; but
he evaded it, by scarcely vouchsafing her any
answer, and resuming his seat. This cruel be-
haviour was rendered the more intolerable by her
endeavours to conceal the concern which it occa-
sioned, and to restrain the tears which were every
moment ready to flow. An hour had passed in
this painful situation when the arrival of Werter's
servant completed her distress. As soon as Albert
had read the note, with calm indifference he turned
to his wife, and said, " Give him the pistols ; I
wish him a good journey." This order was a
thunder-stroke to Charlotte. She rose, alarmed,
from her seat ; with a slow and tottering pace
approached the wall where the pistols were hang.
188 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

ing, and with trembling hands took them down.

She then began leisurely to wipe off the dust, and
would have made still greater delay had not a
significant look from Albert obliged her to obey.
She delivered the fatal arms to the servant, with-
out being able to speak a single word, and then
folding up her work retired immediately to her
chamber, overcome with the most poignant grief
and dreadful forebodings. Sometimes she was
secretly prompted to return to her husband, throw
herself at his feet, disclose every circumstance that
had happened the preceding evening, and freely
acknowledge her fault and apprehensions ; but she
was soon convinced of the evil tendency of such
measures ; she was convinced that Albert could
never be persuaded to go to Werter. At length
the cloth was laid for dinner, and a friend of
Charlotte's who had been invited helped to keep up
the conversation.

When Werter was told by his servant that

Charlotte had delivered the pistols to him with her
own hands he received them with ecstasy. He sat
down to some bread and wine, ordered the servant
to go to his dinner, and began to write.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 189

LETTER XCII .
DEAREST CHARLOTTE,

These pistols have been in your hands, you have

wiped off the dust, you have cleaned them for me !
Then Heaven approves of my design ! Yes, from
your hands, which have furnished me with these,
I have long wished to receive my fate. Oh, Char-
lotte, ages can never obliterate the impression ; and
sure I am, you cannot hate the man who pas-
sionately adores you, even in his last moments !
* * *
* * * *

After dinner, Werter desired his servant to

pack up his trunk ; he then destroyed several
papers, and went out to discharge some trifling
debts in the neighbourhood. He soon returned,
but notwithstanding the rain, went out again to
the Count's garden, and then into the country.
He came home at night, and took up his pen
again.

LETTER XCIII .
DEAR WILLIAM,
I HAVE now taken my last view of the gardens,
the fields, the mountains, and the sky ; farewell !
Comfort, as much as possible, my dear aged
Bayerische
Staatsbibliothek
Münch
190 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

mother, and Heaven will reward you. I have

arranged all my affairs. We shall meet again
in another and happier world.
Albert, forgive me ; forgive me for having inter-
rupted your domestic peace. I have disturbed the
tranquillity of your family, and destroyed the con-
fidence which once subsisted between you and
Charlotte, but I trust my death will remove every
obstacle to your happiness. Oh, Albert ! be affec-
tionate to Charlotte, and Heaven will bless you
both.
* * * * * * *

His papers now occupied his attention, several

of which he destroyed, and others he sealed up and
directed to his friend. These chiefly contained un-
connected reflections, and the effusions of an
agitated mind. At ten o'clock he ordered his fire
to be made up, and a pint of wine to be brought.
He then dismissed his servant.

LETTER XCIV.
Past 11 o'clock.

Now all is silent and my mind is calm. I thank

Heaven for being so vigorous and resolute in these
my last moments. Oh, Charlotte, thy divine
image is now before me ; I see thee on all sides.
 THE SORROWS OF WERTER . 191

3 With childish fondness I have collected every

trifle which thy hands have rendered sacred. I
return thee, Charlotte, thy profile, and conjure thee
to esteem it, for I have imprinted on it a thousand
kisses. I have written to thy father and requested
him to take care of my remains. At the corner of
the church-yard are two lime-trees ; there I wish
to be deposited. Urge my request, I pray. Some
good Christians, perhaps, may murmur that their
bodies should hereafter lie near mine. If they
object, then I must be buried near the highway,
that the priest and the Levite, when they pass by
my tomb, may raise their sanctified eyes and begin
to pray, whilst the Samaritan will stop to shed a
tear of pity.
I wish, Charlotte, to be interred in the clothes
that I wear, for I have worn them in thy presence,
and therefore they are dear to me. This favour I
have also requested of thy father. My soul hovers
over the grave. Let no one search my pockets ; I
have the knot of pink ribband which you wore on
your bosom the first time I saw thee surrounded by
the children. Sweet souls ! I think I see them
now playing round thee ; give them a thousand
kisses for my sake. Ah, Charlotte ! at that first
moment how was I attached to thee, never since
have I been able to tear thee from this heart .
The pistols are loaded, the clock strikes twelve !
192 THE SORROWS OF WERTER .

Charlotte, I am firm, my mind does not waver,

farewell !
* * * * * * *

About six in the morning, Werter's servant went

into the room with a candle, he found his master
extended on the floor, and weltering in blood. He
ran immediately to Albert's. A sudden tremor
seized Charlotte upon hearing the gate bell ring.
She waked her husband, and they both arose. The
servant, in tears, imparted the dreadful event.
Charlotte fell senseless at her husband's feet.
Albert, as soon as he had dressed himself, went to
see if he could render any assistance, Alas ! all
assistance was now in vain, the unfortunate youth
was dead. The body, previous to his coming, had
been examined by a surgeon, but, though it was
warm, it retained no animation. On his bureau
the book of Emelia Galotti was lying open.
Albert's distress, and Charlotte's melancholy
situation, can be better conceived than here de-
scribed . The funeral was conducted with much
solemnity, but little parade. The mourning of
Albert was sincere, and that of Charlotte truly
sorrowful. The body was attended to the grave by
the old Steward and his sons, who, with unaffected
grief, regretted the loss of so worthy a man !

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