第2部分

I ——， whose old-fashioned coat bore evidence of modern repairs ： this

crowned the whole. I conversed with some of my acquaintances， but they

answered me laconically. I was engaged in observing Miss B——， and did

not notice that the women were whispering at the end of the room， that

the murmur extended by degrees to the men ， that Madame S—— addressed

the count with much warmth（this was all related to me subsequently by

Miss B——）； till at length the count came up to me ， and took me to

the window. "You know our ridiculous customs，" he said. "I perceive the

company is rather displeased at your being here. I would not on any account

——" "I beg your excellency's pardon ！" I exclaimed. "I ought to have

thought of this before， but I know you will forgive this little inattention.

I was going ，" I added ， "some time ago ， but my evil genius detained

me." And I smiled and bowed ， to take my leave. He shook me by the hand，

in a manner which expressed everything. I hastened at once from the illustrious

assembly， sprang into a carriage ， and drove to M ——。 I contemplated

the setting sun from the top of the hill， and read that beautiful passage

in Homer， where Ulysses is entertained by the hospitable herdsmen. This

was indeed delightful. I returned home to supper in the evening. But few

persons were assembled in the room. They had turned up a corner of the

table-cloth ， and were playing at dice. The good-natured A —— came

in. He laid down his hat when he saw me ， approached me， and said in

a low tone， "You have met with a disagreeable adventure." "I ！" I exclaimed.

"The count obliged you to withdraw from the assembly！" "Deuce take the

assembly！" said I. "I was very glad to be gone." "I am delighted ，"

he added， "that you take it so lightly. I am only sorry that it is already

so much spoken of." The circumstance then began to pain me. I fancied

that every one who sat down ， and even looked at me， was thinking of

this incident ； and my heart became embittered.

And now I could plunge a dagger into my bosom ， when I hear myself

everywhere pitied ， and observe the triumph of my enemies， who say that

this is always the case with vain persons ， whose heads are turned with

conceit ， who affect to despise forms and such petty ， idle nonsense.

Say what you will of fortitude， but show me the man who can patiently

endure the laughter of fools， when they have obtained an advantage over

him. 'Tis only when their nonsense is without foundation that one can

suffer it without complaint.

MARCH 16. Everything conspires against me. I met Miss B —— walking

to-day. I could not help joining her； and， when we were at a little

distance from her companions， I expressed my sense of her altered manner

toward me. "O Werther ！" she said， in a tone of emotion ， "you ， who

know my heart ， how could you so ill interpret my distress ？ What did

I not suffer for you， from the moment you entered the room ！ I foresaw

it all， a hundred times was I on the point of mentioning it to you. I

knew that the S ——s and T ——s ， with their husbands， would quit

the room， rather than remain in your company. I knew that the count would

not break with them ： and now so much is said about it." "How！" I exclaimed，

and endeavoured to conceal my emotion ； for all that Adelin had mentioned

to me yesterday recurred to me painfully at that moment. "Oh， how much

it has already cost me！" said this amiable girl， while her eyes filled

with tears. I could scarcely contain myself ， and was ready to throw

myself at her feet. "Explain yourself ！" I cried. Tears flowed down her

cheeks. I became quite frantic. She wiped them away ， without attempting

to conceal them. "You know my aunt，" she continued ； "she was present

： and in what light does she consider the affair ！ Last night ， and

this morning， Werther， I was compelled to listen to a lecture upon my，

acquaintance with you. I have been obliged to hear you condemned and depreciated

； and I could not—— I dared not—— say much in your defence."

Every word she uttered was a dagger to my heart. She did not feel

what a mercy it would have been to conceal everything from me. She told

me， in addition， all the impertinence that would be further circulated，

and how the malicious would triumph ； how they would rejoice over the

punishment of my pride， over my humiliation for that want of esteem for

others with which I had often been reproached. To hear all this ， Wilhelm，

uttered by her in a voice of the most sincere sympathy， awakened all

my passions ； and I am still in a state of extreme excitement. I wish

I could find a man to jeer me about this event. I would sacrifice him

to my resentment. The sight of his blood might possibly be a relief to

my fury. A hundred times have I seized a dagger ， to give ease to this

oppressed heart. Naturalists tell of a noble race of horses that instinctively

open a vein with their teeth， when heated and exhausted by a long course，

in order to breathe more freely. I am often tempted to open a vein， to

procure for myself everlasting liberty.

MARCH 24. I have tendered my resignation to the court. I hope it will

be accepted ， and you will forgive me for not having previously consulted

you. It is necessary I should leave this place. I know all you will urge

me to stay， and therefore I beg you will soften this news to my mother.

I am unable to do anything for myself ： how， then ， should I be competent

to assist others？ It will afflict her that I should have interrupted

that career which would have made me first a privy councillor ， and then

minister， and that I should look behind me ， in place of advancing.

Argue as you will ， combine all the reasons which should have induced

me to remain， I am going ： that is sufficient. But， that you may not

be ignorant of my destination ， I may mention that the Prince of ——

is here. He is much pleased with my company ； and， having heard of my

intention to resign ， he has invited me to his country house ， to pass

the spring months with him. I shall be left completely my own master；

and ， as we agree on all subjects but one， I shall try my fortune ，

and accompany him.

APRIL l9. Thanks for both your letters. I delayed my reply， and withheld

this letter ， till I should obtain an answer from the court. I feared

my mother might apply to the minister to defeat my purpose. But my request

is granted， my resignation is accepted. I shall not recount with what

reluctance it was accorded， nor relate what the minister has written

： you would only renew your lamentations. The crown prince has sent me

a present of five and twenty ducats ； and， indeed ， such goodness has

affected me to tears. For this reason I shall not require from my mother

the money for which I lately applied.

MAY 5. I leave this place to-morrow ； and， as my native place is

only six miles from the high road ， I intend to visit it once more ，

and recall the happy dreams of my childhood. I shall enter at the same

gate through which I came with my mother， when ， after my father's death，

she left that delightful retreat to immure herself in your melancholy

town. Adieu ， my dear friend ： you shall hear of my future career.

MAY 9. I have paid my visit to my native place with all the devotion

of a pilgrim， and have experienced many unexpected emotions. Near the

great elm tree， which is a quarter of a league from the village， I got

out of the carriage ， and sent it on before， that alone ， and on foot，

I might enjoy vividly and heartily all the pleasure of my recollections.

I stood there under that same elm which was formerly the term and object

of my walks. How things have since changed！ Then ， in happy ignorance，

I sighed for a world I did not know ， where I hoped to find every pleasure

and enjoyment which my heart could desire ； and now， on my return from

that wide world ， O my friend， how many disappointed hopes and unsuccessful

plans have I brought back ！

As I contemplated the mountains which lay stretched out before me ，

I thought how often they had been the object of my dearest desires. Here

used I to sit for hours together with my eyes bent upon them， ardently

longing to wander in the shade of those woods ， to lose myself in those

valleys ， which form so delightful an object in the distance. With what

reluctance did I leave this charming spot ； when my hour of recreation

was over， and my leave of absence expired！ I drew near to the village

： all the well-known old summerhouses and gardens were recognised again

； I disliked the new ones， and all other alterations which had taken

place. I entered the village， and all my former feelings returned. I

cannot， my dear friend ， enter into details ， charming as were my sensations

： they would be dull in the narration. I had intended to lodge in the

market-place， near our old house. As soon as I entered ， I perceived

that the schoolroom ， where our childhood had been taught by that good

old woman ， was converted into a shop. I called to mind the sorrow ，

the heaviness ， the tears， and oppression of heart， which I experienced

in that confinement. Every step produced some particular impression. A

pilgrim in the Holy Land does not meet so many spots pregnant with tender

recollections ， and his soul is hardly moved with greater devotion. One

incident will serve for illustration. I followed the course of a stream

to a farm ， formerly a delightful walk of mine ， and paused at the spot，

where ， when boys， we used to amuse ourselves making ducks and drakes

upon the water. I recollected so well how I used formerly to watch the

course of that same stream， following it with inquiring eagerness， forming

romantic ideas of the countries it was to pass through； but my imagination

was soon exhausted： while the water continued flowing farther and farther

on， till my fancy became bewildered by the contemplation of an invisible

distance. Exactly such， my dear friend ， so happy and so confined ，

were the thoughts of our good ancestors. Their feelings and their poetry

were fresh as childhood. And， when Ulysses talks of the immeasurable

sea and boundless earth ， his epithets are true， natural， deeply felt，

and mysterious. Of what importance is it that I have learned， with every

schoolboy ， that the world is round？ Man needs but little earth for

enjoyment ， and still less for his final repose.

I am at present with the prince at his hunting lodge. He is a man

with whom one can live happily. He is honest and unaffected. There are，

however ， some strange characters about him， whom I cannot at all understand.

They do not seem vicious， and yet they do not carry the appearance of

thoroughly honest men. Sometimes I am disposed to believe them honest ，

and yet I cannot persuade myself to confide in them. It grieves me to

hear the prince occasionally talk of things which he has only read or

heard of， and always with the same view in which they have been represented

by others.

He values my understanding and talents more highly than my heart，

but I am proud of the latter only. It is the sole source of everything

of our strength ， happiness， and misery. All the knowledge I possess

every one else can acquire， but my heart is exclusively my own.

MAY 25. I have had a plan in my head of which I did not intend to

speak to you until it was accomplished： now that it has failed ， I may

as well mention it. I wished to enter the army， and had long been desirous

of taking the step. This， indeed ， was the chief reason for my coming

here with the prince， as he is a general in the service. I communicated

my design to him during one of our walks together. He disapproved of it，

and it would have been actual madness not to have listened to his reasons.

JUNE 11. Say what you will， I can remain here no longer. Why should

I remain？ Time hangs heavy upon my hands. The prince is as gracious to

me as any one could be， and yet I am not at my ease. There is， indeed，

nothing in common between us. He is a man of understanding， but quite

of the ordinary kind. His conversation affords me no more amusement than

I should derive from the perusal of a well-written book. I shall remain

here a week Ionger， and then start again on my travels. My drawings are

the best things I have done since I came here. The prince has a taste

for the arts， and would improve if his mind were not fettered by cold

rules and mere technical ideas. I often lose patience ， when ， with

a glowing imagination ， I am giving expression to art and nature ， he

interferes with learned suggestions ， and uses at random the technical

phraseology of artists.

JULY 16. Once more I am a wanderer， a pilgrim， through the world.

But what else are you ！

JULY 18. Whither am I going ？ I will tell you in confidence. I am

obliged to continue a fortnight longer here ， and then I think it would

be better for me to visit the mines in——。 But I am only deluding myself

thus. The fact is ， I wish to be near Charlotte again， that is all.

I smile at the suggestions of my heart， and obey its dictates.

JULY 29. No ， no ！ it is yet well all is well ！ I her husband！

O God ， who gave me being， if thou hadst destined this happiness for

me， my whole life would have been one continual thanksgiving ！ But I

will not murmur —— forgive these tears， forgive these fruitless wishes.

She —— my wife！ Oh ， the very thought of folding that dearest of Heaven's

creatures in my arms！ Dear Wilhelm ， my whole frame feels convulsed

when I see Albert put his arms around her slender waist ！

And shall I avow it ？ Why should I not ， Wilhelm？ She would have

been happier with me than with him. Albert is not the man to satisfy the

wishes of such a heart. He wants a certain sensibility； he wants ——

in short， their hearts do not beat in unison. How often， my dear friend，

im reading a passage from some interesting book ， when my heart and Charlotte's

seemed to meet， and in a hundred other instances when our sentiments

were unfolded by the story of some fictitious character ， have I felt

that we were made for each other！ But， dear Wilhelm ， he loves her

with his whole soul ； and what does not such a love deserve？

I have been interrupted by an insufferable visit. I have dried my

tears ， and composed my thoughts. Adieu， my best friend ！

AUGUST 4. I am not alone unfortunate. All men are disappointed in

their hopes ， and deceived in their expectations. I have paid a visit

to my good old woman under the lime-trees. The eldest boy ran out to meet

me： his exclamation of joy brought out his mother， but she had a very

melancholy look. Her first word was ， "Alas！ dear sir ， my little John

is dead." He was the youngest of her children. I was silent. "And my husband

has returned from Switzerland without any money ； and， if some kind

people had not assisted him ， he must have begged his way home. He was

taken ill with fever on his journey." I could answer nothing， but made

the little one a present. She invited me to take some fruit ： I complied，

and left the place with a sorrowful heart.

AUGUST 21. My sensations are constantly changing. Sometimes a happy

prospect opens before me； but alas ！ it is only for a moment； and then，

when I am lost in reverie ， I cannot help saying to myself ， "If Albert

were to die ？—— Yes， she would become —— and I should be" —— and

so I pursue a chimera ， till it leads me to the edge of a precipice at

which I shudder.

When I pass through the same gate ， and walk along the same road

which first conducted me to Charlotte ， my heart sinks within me at the

change that has since taken place. All， all， is altered ！ No sentiment，

no pulsation of my heart， is the same. My sensations are such as would

occur to some departed prince whose spirit should return to visit the

superb palace which he had built in happy times ， adorned with costly

magnificence， and left to a beloved son， but whose glory he should find

departed， and its halls deserted and in ruins.

SEPTEMBER 3. I sometimes cannot understand how she can love another，

how she dares love another， when I love nothing in this world so completely，

so devotedly， as I love her， when I know only her ， and have no other

possession.

SEPTEMBER 4. It is even so！ As nature puts on her autumn tints it

becomes autumn with me and around me. My leaves are sere and yellow ，

and the neighbouring trees are divested of their foliage. Do you remember

my writing to you about a peasant boy shortly after my arrival here ？

I have just made inquiries about him in Walheim. They say he has been

dismissed from his service， and is now avoided by every one. I met him

yesterday on the road ， going to a neighbouring village. I spoke to him，

and he told me his story. It interested me exceedingly， as you will easily

understand when I repeat it to you. But why should I trouble you？ Why

should I not reserve all my sorrow for myself ？ Why should I continue

to give you occasion to pity and blame me ？ But no matter： this also

is part of my destiny.

At first the peasant lad answered my inquiries with a sort of subdued

melancholy， which seemed to me the mark of a timid disposition ； but，

as we grew to understand each other ， he spoke with less reserve ， and

openly confessed his faults ， and lamented his misfortune. I wish， my

dear friend ， I could give proper expression to his language. He told

me with a sort of pleasurable recollection， that ， after my departure，

his passion for his mistress increased daily， until at last he neither

knew what he did nor what he said ， nor what was to become of him. He

could neither eat nor drink nor sleep ： he felt a sense of suffocation

； he disobeyed all orders， and forgot all commands involuntarily； he

seemed as if pursued by an evil spirit， till one day ， knowing that

his mistress had gone to an upper chamber ， he had followed， or ， rather，

been drawn after her. As she proved deaf to his entreaties， he had recourse

to violence. He knows not what happened ； but he called God to witness

that his intentions to her were honourable， and that he desired nothing

more sincerely than that they should marry， and pass their lives together.

When he had come to this point， he began to hesitate ， as if there was

something which he had not courage to utter ， till at length he acknowledged

with some confusion certain little confidences she had encouraged ， and

liberties she had allowed. He broke off two or three times in his narration，

and assured me most earnestly that he had no wish to make her bad ， as

he termed it， for he loved her still as sincerely as ever； that the

tale had never before escaped his lips， and was only now told to convince

me that he was not utterly lost and abandoned. And here ， my dear friend，

I must commence the old song which you know I utter eternally. If I could

only represent the man as he stood， and stands now before me ， could

I only give his true expressions， you would feel compelled to sympathise

in his fate. But enough ： you， who know my misfortune and my disposition，

can easily comprehend the attraction which draws me toward every unfortunate

being ， but particularly toward him whose story I have recounted.

On perusing this letter a second time ， I find I have omitted the

conclusion of my tale ； but it is easily supplied. She became reserved

toward him， at the instigation of her brother who had long hated him ，

and desired his expulsion from the house， fearing that his sister's second

marriage might deprive his children of the handsome fortune they expected

from her； as she is childless. He was dismissed at length； and the whole

affair occasioned so much scandal ， that the mistress dared not take

him back， even if she had wished it. She has since hired another servant，

with whom ， they say ， her brother is equally displeased， and whom

she is likely to marry； but my informant assures me that he himself is

determined not to survive such a catastrophe.

This story is neither exaggerated nor embellished ： indeed ， I have

weakened and impaired it in the narration ， by the necessity of using

the more refined expressions of society.

This love ， then ， this constancy ， this passion ， is no poetical

fiction. It is actual ， and dwells in its greatest purity amongst that

class of mankind whom we term rude， uneducated. We are the educated，

not the perverted. But read this story with attention ， I implore you.

I am tranquil to-day， for I have been employed upon this narration ：

you see by my writing that I am not so agitated as usual. I read and re-read

this tale ， Wilhelm： it is the history of your friend ！ My fortune

has been and will be similar； and I am neither half so brave nor half

so determined as the poor wretch with whom I hesitate to compare myself.

SEPTEMBER 5. Charlotte had written a letter to her husband in the

country ， where he was detained by business. It commenced， "My dearest

love， return as soon as possible ： I await you with a thousand raptures."

A friend who arrived， brought word ， that ， for certain reasons， he

could not return immediately. Charlotte's letter was not forwarded， and

the same evening it fell into my hands. I read it ， and smiled. She asked

the reason. "What a heavenly treasure is imagination：" I exclaimed ；

"I fancied for a moment that this was written to me." She paused， and

seemed displeased. I was silent.

SEPTEMBER 6. It cost me much to part with the blue coat which I wore

the first time I danced with Charlotte. But I could not possibly wear

it any longer. But I have ordered a new one ， precisely similar， even

to the collar and sleeves ， as well as a new waistcoat and pantaloons.

But it does not produce the same effect upon me. I know not how it

is， but I hope in time I shall like it better.

SEPTEMBER 12. She has been absent for some days. She went to meet

Albert. To-day I visited her： she rose to receive me ， and I kissed

her hand most tenderly.

A canary at the moment flew from a mirror ， and settled upon her

shoulder. "Here is a new friend ，" she observed， while she made him

perch upon her hand ： "he is a present for the children. What a dear

he is ！ Look at him！ When I feed him， he flutters with his wings ，

and pecks so nicely. He kisses me ， too， only look！"

She held the bird to her mouth； and he pressed her sweet lips with

so much fervour that he seemed to feel the excess of bliss which he enjoyed.

"He shall kiss you too，" she added ； and then she held the bird

toward me. His little beak moved from her mouth to mine ， and the delightful

sensation seemed like the forerunner of the sweetest bliss.

"A kiss ，" I observed， "does not seem to satisfy him： he wishes

for food， and seems disappointed by these unsatisfactory endearments."

"But he eats out of my mouth，" she continued ， and extended her

lips to him containing seed ； and she smiled with all the charm of a

being who has allowed an innocent participation of her love.

I turned my face away. She should not act thus. She ought not to excite

my imagination with such displays of heavenly innocence and happiness ，

nor awaken my heart from its slumbers ， in which it dreams of the worthlessness

of life ！ And why not？ Because she knows how much I love her.

SEPTEMBER 15. It makes me wretched， Wilhelm， to think that there

should be men incapable of appreciating the few things which possess a

real value in life. You remember the walnut trees at S——， under which

I used to sit with Charlotte， during my visits to the worthy old vicar.

Those glorious trees， the very sight of which has so often filled my

heart with joy， how they adorned and refreshed the parsonage yard， with

their wide-extended branches！ and how pleasing was our remembrance of

the good old pastor ， by whose hands they were planted so many years

ago ： The schoolmaster has frequently mentioned his name. He had it from

his grandfather. He must have been a most excellent man ； and， under

the shade of those old trees， his memory was ever venerated by me. The

schoolmaster informed us yesterday， with tears in his eyes ， that those

trees had been felled. Yes， cut to the ground！ I could， in my wrath，

have slain the monster who struck the first stroke. And I must endure

this！—— I， who， if I had had two such trees in my own court， and

one had died from old age ， should have wept with real affliction. But

there is some comfort left， such a thing is sentiment， the whole village

murmurs at the misfortune ； and I hope the vicar's wife will soon find，

by the cessation of the villagers' presents ， how much she has wounded

the feelings of the neighborhhood. It was she who did it， the wife of

the present incumbent （our good old man is dead）， a tall ， sickly

creature who is so far right to disregard the world ， as the world totally

disregards her. The silly being affects to be learned ， pretends to examine

the canonical books ， lends her aid toward the new-fashioned reformation

of Christendom， moral and critical ， and shrugs up her shoulders at

the mention of Lavater's enthusiasm. Her health is destroyed， on account

of which she is prevented from having any enjoyment here below. Only such

a creature could have cut down my walnut trees！ I can never pardon it.

Hear her reasons. The falling leaves made the court wet and dirty ； the

branches obstructed the light ； boys threw stones at the nuts when they

were ripe ， and the noise affected her nerves； and disturbed her profound

meditations ， when she was weighing the diffculties of Kennicot， Semler，

and Michaelis. Finding that all the parish， particularly the old people，

were displeased ， I asked "why they allowed it ？" "Ah ， sir！" they

replied ， "when the steward orders ， what can we poor peasants do ？

" But one thing has happened well. The steward and the vicar（who ， for

once， thought to reap some advantage from the caprices of his wife ）

intended to divide the trees between them. The revenue-office ， being

informed of it， revived an old claim to the ground where the trees had

stood ， and sold them to the best bidder. There they still lie on the

ground. If I were the sovereign ， I should know how to deal with them

all ， vicar， steward， and revenue-office. Sovereign， did I say？ I

should， in that case ， care little about the trees that grew in the

country.

OCTOBER 10. Only to gaze upon her dark eyes is to me a source of happiness！

And what grieves me ， is ， that Albert does not seem so happy as he

—— hoped to be—— as I should have been—— if —— I am no friend

to these pauses ， but here I cannot express it otherwise ； and probably

I am explicit enough.

OCTOBER 12. Ossian has superseded Homer in my heart. To what a world

does the illustrious bard carry me！ To wander over pathless wilds， surrounded

by impetuous whirlwinds ， where， by the feeble light of the moon， we

see the spirits of our ancestors； to hear from the mountain-tops ， mid

the roar of torrents， their plaintive sounds issuing from deep caverns，

and the sorrowful lamentations of a maiden who sighs and expires on the

mossy tomb of the warrior by whom she was adored. I meet this bard with

silver hair ； he wanders in the valley ； he seeks the footsteps of his

fathers ， and， alas ！ he finds only their tombs. Then， contemplating

the pale moon ， as she sinks beneath the waves of the rolling sea， the

memory of bygone days strikes the mind of the hero， days when approaching

danger invigorated the brave， and the moon shone upon his bark laden

with spoils ， and returning in triumph. When I read in his countenance

deep sorrow ， when I see his dying glory sink exhausted into the grave，

as he inhales new and heart-thrilling delight from his approaching union

with his beloved， and he casts a look on the cold earth and the tall

grass which is so soon to cover him ， and then exclaims， "The traveller

will come ，—— he will come who has seen my beauty， and he will ask，

'Where is the bard， where is the illustrious son of Fingal ？' He will

walk over my tomb ， and will seek me in vain ！" Then， O my friend，

I could instantly ， like a true and noble knight ， draw my sword， and

deliver my prince from the long and painful languor of a living death ，

and dismiss my own soul to follow the demigod whom my hand had set free！

OCTOBER 19. Alas！ the void the fearful void， which I feel in my

bosom ！ Sometimes I think， if I could only once but once， press her

to my heart ， this dreadful void would be filled.

OCTOBER 26. Yes ， I feel certain ， Wilhelm， and every day I become

more certain， that the existence of any being whatever is of very little

consequence. A friend of Charlotte's called to see her just now. I withdrew

into a neighbouring apartment ， and took up a book ； but， finding I

could not read， I sat down to write. I heard them converse in an undertone

： they spoke upon indifferent topics ， and retailed the news of the

town. One was going to be married ； another was ill， very ill ， she

had a dry cough ， her face was growing thinner daily ， and she had occasional

fits. "N—— is very unwell too ，" said Charlotte. "His limbs begin to

swell already ，" answered the other； and my lively imagination carried

me at once to the beds of the infirm. There I see them struggling against

death ， with all the agonies of pain and horror； and these women， Wilhelm，

talk of all this with as much indifference as one would mention the death

of a stranger. And when I look around the apartment where I now am——

when I see Charlotte's apparel lying before me， and Albert's writings，

and all those articles of furniture which are so familiar to me ， even

to the very inkstand which I am using ，—— when I think what I am to

this family —— everything. My friends esteem me ； I often contribute

to their happiness， and my heart seems as if it could not beat without

them； and yet—— if I were to die ， if I were to be summoned from the

midst of this circle， would they feel—— or how long would they feel

the void which my loss would make in their existence？ How long ！ Yes，

such is the frailty of man， that even there， where he has the greatest

consciousness of his own being， where he makes the strongest and most

forcible impression ， even in the memory ， in the heart ， of his beloved，

there also he must perish ，—— vanish ，—— and that quickly.

OCTOBER 27. I could tear open my bosom with vexation to think how

little we are capable of influencing the feelings of each other. No one

can communicate to me those sensations of love， joy， rapture， and delight

which I do not naturally possess； and， though my heart may glow with

the most lively affection ， I cannot make the happiness of one in whom

the same warmth is not inherent.

OCTOBER 27： Evening. I possess so much ， but my love for her absorbs

it all. I possess so much ， but without her I have nothing.

OCTOBER 30. One hundred times have I been on the point of embracing

her. Heavens！ what a torment it is to see so much loveliness passing

and repassing before us ， and yet not dare to lay hold of it ！ And laying

hold is the most natural of human instincts. Do not children touch everything

they see？ And I！

NOVEMBER 3. Witness ， Heaven ， how often I lie down in my bed with

a wish， and even a hope， that I may never awaken again. And in the morning，

when I open my eyes ， I behold the sun once more ， and am wretched.

If I were whimsical ， I might blame the weather， or an acquaintance ，

or some personal disappointment ， for my discontented mind ； and then

this insupportable load of trouble would not rest entirely upon myself.

But ， alas ！ I feel it too sadly. I am alone the cause of my own woe，

am I not？ Truly， my own bosom contains the source of all my sorrow，

as it previously contained the source of all my pleasure. Am I not the

same being who once enjoyed an excess of happiness， who， at every step，

saw paradise open before him， and whose heart was ever expanded toward

the whole world ？ And this heart is now dead ， no sentiment can revive

it； my eyes are dry； and my senses， no more refreshed by the influence

of soft tears ， wither and consume my brain. I suffer much ， for I have

lost the only charm of life ： that active， sacred power which created

worlds around me，—— it is no more. When I look from my window at the

distant hills ， and behold the morning sun breaking through the mists，

and illuminating the country around ， which is still wrapped in silence，

whilst the soft stream winds gently through the willows ， which have

shed their leaves ； when glorious nature displays all her beauties before

me， and her wondrous prospects are ineffectual to extract one tear of

joy from my withered heart， I feel that in such a moment I stand like

a reprobate before heaven ， hardened ， insensible ， and unmoved. Oftentimes

do I then bend my knee to the earth ， and implore God for the blessing

of tears， as the desponding labourer in some scorching climate prays

for the dews of heaven to moisten his parched corn. But I feel that God

does not grant sunshine or rain to our importunate entreaties. And oh ，

those bygone days ， whose memory now torments me ！ why were they so

fortunate ？ Because I then waited with patience for the blessings of

the Eternal ， and received his gifts with the grateful feelings of a

thankful heart.

NOVEMBER 8. Charlotte has reproved me for my excesses ， with so much

tenderness and goodness ！ I have lately been in the habit of drinking

more wine than heretofore. "Don't do it ，" she said. "Think of Charlotte！

" "Think of you ！" I answered； "need you bid me do so ？ Think of you

—— I do not think of you： you are ever before my soul！ This very morning

I sat on the spot where ， a few days ago ， you descended from the carriage，

and ——" She immediately changed the subject to prevent me from pursuing

it farther. My dear friend， my energies are all prostrated ： she can

do with me what she pleases.

NOVEMBER 15. I thank you， Wilhelm， for your cordial sympathy， for

your excellent advice ； and I implore you to be quiet. Leave me to my

sufferings. In spite of my wretchedness ， I have still strength enough

for endurance. I revere religion—— you know I do. I feel that it can

impart strength to the feeble and comfort to the afflicted， but does

it affect all men equally ？ Consider this vast universe： you will see

thousands for whom it has never existed ， thousands for whom it will

never exist ， whether it be preached to them ， or not ； and must it，

then， necessarily exist for me ？ Does not the Son of God himself say

that they are his whom the Father has given to him？ Have I been given

to him？ What if the Father will retain me for himself， as my heart sometimes

suggests？ I pray you ， do not misinterpret this. Do not extract derision

from my harmless words. I pour out my whole soul before you. Silence were

otherwise preferable to me， but I need not shrink from a subject of which

few know more than I do myself. What is the destiny of man， but to fill

up the measure of his sufferings， and to drink his allotted cup of bitterness？

And if that same cup proved bitter to the God of heaven ， under a human

form， why should I affect a foolish pride， and call it sweet？ Why should

I be ashamed of shrinking at that fearful moment， when my whole being

will tremble between existence and annihilation ， when a remembrance

of the past ， like a flash of lightning， will illuminate the dark gulf

of futurity ， when everything shall dissolve around me ， and the whole

world vanish away ？ Is not this the voice of a creature oppressed beyond

all resource， self-deficient ， about to plunge into inevitable destruction，

and groaning deeply at its inadequate strength， "My God！ my God ！ why

hast thou forsaken me ？" And should I feel ashamed to utter the same

expression？ Should I not shudder at a prospect which had its fears ，

even for him who folds up the heavens like a garment？

NOVEMBER 21. She does not feel， she does not know， that she is preparing

a poison which will destroy us both ； and I drink deeply of the draught

which is to prove my destruction. What mean those looks of kindness with

which she often —— often？ no ， not often， but sometimes， regards

me， that complacency with which she hears the involuntary sentiments

which frequently escape me， and the tender pity for my sufferings which

appears in her countenance？

Yesterday ， when I took leave she seized me by the hand， and said，

"Adieu， dear Werther." Dear Werther！ It was the first time she ever

called me dear： the sound sunk deep into my heart. I have repeated it

a hundred times ； and last night ， on going to bed， and talking to

myself of various things， I suddenly said， "Good night， dear Werther

！" and then could not but laugh at myself.

NOVEMBER 22. I cannot pray， "Leave her to me ！" and yet she often

seems to belong to me. I cannot pray， "Give her to me！" for she is another's.

In this way I affect mirth over my troubles ； and， if I had time， I

could compose a whole litany of antitheses.

NOVEMBER 24. She is sensible of my sufferings. This morning her look

pierced my very soul. I found her alone ， and she was silent ： she steadfastly

surveyed me. I no longer saw in her face the charms of beauty or the fire

of genius ： these had disappeared. But I was affected by an expression

much more touching， a look of the deepest sympathy and of the softest

pity. Why was I afraid to throw myself at her feet？ Why did I not dare

to take her in my arms， and answer her by a thousand kisses？ She had

recourse to her piano for relief， and in a low and sweet voice accompanied

the music with delicious sounds. Her lips never appeared so lovely： they

seemed but just to open ， that they might imbibe the sweet tones which

issued from the instrument， and return the heavenly vibration from her

lovely mouth. Oh！ who can express my sensations？ I was quite overcome，

and ， bending down ， pronounced this vow： "Beautiful lips， which the

angels guard， never will I seek to profane your purity with a kiss."

And yet ， my friend， oh ， I wish —— but my heart is darkened by doubt

and indecision—— could I but taste felicity ， and then die to expiate

the sin ！ What sin ？

NOVEMBER 26. Oftentimes I say to myself ， "Thou alone art wretched

： all other mortals are happy， none are distressed like thee！" Then

I read a passage in an ancient poet ， and I seem to understand my own

heart. I have so much to endure ！ Have men before me ever been so wretched？

NOVEMBER 30. I shall never be myself again！ Wherever I go， some

fatality occurs to distract me. Even to-day alas—— for our destiny！

alas for human nature ！

About dinner-time I went to walk by the river-side， for I had no

appetite. Everything around seemed gloomy ： a cold and damp easterly

wind blew from the mountains， and black， heavy clouds spread over the

plain. I observed at a distance a man in a tattered coat： he was wandering

among the rocks ， and seemed to be looking for plants. When I approached，

he turned round at the noise； and I saw that he had an interesting countenance

in which a settled melancholy ， strongly marked by benevolence ， formed

the principal feature. His long black hair was divided， and flowed over

his shoulders. As his garb betokened a person of the lower order， I thought

he would not take it ill if I inquired about his business ； and I therefore

asked what he was seeking. He replied ， with a deep sigh ， that he was

looking for flowers ， and could find none. "But it is not the season ，

" I observed， with a smile. "Oh， there are so many flowers！" he answered，

as he came nearer to me. "In my garden there are roses and honeysuckles

of two sorts： one sort was given to me by my father！ they grow as plentifully

as weeds； I have been looking for them these two days， and cannot find

them. There are flowers out there ， yellow ， blue ， and red； and that

centaury has a very pretty blossom： but I can find none of them." I observed

his peculiarity ， and therefore asked him， with an air of indifference，

what he intended to do with his flowers. A strange smile overspread his

countenance. Holding his finger to his mouth， he expressed a hope that

I would not betray him； and he then informed me that he had promised

to gather a nosegay for his mistress. "That is right，" said I. "Oh ！

" he replied， "she possesses many other things as well ： she is very

rich." "And yet ，" I continued ， "she likes your nosegays." "Oh ， she

has jewels and crowns ！" he exclaimed. I asked who she was. "If the states-general

would but pay me，" he added， "I should be quite another man. Alas ！

there was a time when I was so happy； but that is past ， and I am now

——" He raised his swimming eyes to heaven. "And you were happy once ？

" I observed. "Ah ， would I were so still！" was his reply. "I was then

as gay and contented as a man can be." An old woman ， who was coming

toward us ， now called out ， "Henry ， Henry！ where are you？ We have

been looking for you everywhere ： come to dinner." "Is he your son ？

" I inquired， as I went toward her. "Yes ，" she said： "he is my poor，

unfortunate son. The Lord has sent me a heavy affliction." I asked whether

he had been long in this state. She answered， "He has been as calm as

he is at present for about six months. I thank Heaven that he has so far

recovered ： he was for one whole year quite raving ， and chained down

in a madhouse. Now he injures no one， but talks of nothing else than

kings and queens. He used to be a very good ， quiet youth， and helped

to maintain me； he wrote a very fine hand； but all at once he became

melancholy， was seized with a violent fever， grew distracted， and is

now as you see. If I were only to tell you， sir——" I interrupted her

by asking what period it was in which he boasted of having been so happy.

"Poor boy ！" she exclaimed ， with a smile of cormpassion， "he means

the time when he was completely deranged， a time he never ceases to regret，

when he was in the madhouse ， and unconscious of everything." I was thunderstruck

： I placed a piece of money in her hand， and hastened away.

"You were happy ！" I exclaimed ， as I returned quickly to the town，

"'as gay and contented as a man can be！'" God of heaven！ and is this

the destiny of man？ Is he only happy before he has acquired his reason，

or after he has lost it ？ Unfortunate being！ And yet I envy your fate

： I envy the delusion to which you are a victim. You go forth with joy

to gather flowers for your princess ，—— in winter，—— and grieve

when you can find none， and cannot understand why they do not grow. But

I wander forth without joy， without hope ， without design ； and I return

as I came. You fancy what a man you would be if the states general paid

you. Happy mortal ， who can ascribe your wretchedness to an earthly cause！

You do not know ， you do not feel， that in your own distracted heart

and disordered brain dwells the source of that unhappiness which all the

potentates on earth cannot relieve.

Let that man die unconsoled who can deride the invalid for undertaking

a journey to distant， healthful springs， where he often finds only a

heavier disease and a more painful death， or who can exult over the despairing

mind of a sinner， who， to obtain peace of conscience and an alleviation

of misery ， makes a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre. Each laborious

step which galls his wounded feet in rough and untrodden paths pours a

drop of balm into his troubled soul ， and the journey of many a weary

day brings a nightly relief to his anguished heart. Will you dare call

this enthusiasm ， ye crowd of pompous declaimers ？ Enthusiasm ！ 0 God！

thou seest my tears. Thou hast allotted us our portion of misery： must

we also have brethren to persecute us ， to deprive us of our consolation，

of our trust in thee， and in thy love and mercy？ For our trust in the

virtue of the healing root， or in the strength of the vine ， what is

it else than a belief in thee from whom all that surrounds us derives

its healing and restoring powers？ Father ， whom I know not，—— who

wert once wont to fill my soul， but who now hidest thy face from me，

—— call me back to thee ； be silent no longer； thy silence shall not

delay a soul which thirsts after thee. What man ， what father， could

be angry with a son for returning to him suddenly ， for falling on his

neck， and exclaiming ， "I am here again ， my father！ forgive me if

I have anticipated my journey ， and returned before the appointed time！

The world is everywhere the same，—— a scene of labour and pain ， of

pleasure and reward ； but what does it all avail ？ I am happy only where

thou art， and in thy presence am I content to suffer or enjoy." And wouldst

thou， heavenly Father， banish such a child from thy presence？

DECEMBER 1. Wilhelm ， the man about whom I wrote to you—— that

man so enviable in his misfortunes—— was secretary to Charlotte's father

； and an unhappy passion for her which he cherished， concealed， and

at length discovered， caused him to be dismissed from his situation.

This made him mad. Think， whilst you peruse this plain narration ， what

an impression the circumstance has made upon me ！ But it was related

to me by Albert with as much calmness as you will probably peruse it.

DECEMBER 4. I implore your attention. It is all over with me. I can

support this state no longer. To-day I was sitting by Charlotte. She was

playing upon her piano a succession of delightful melodies， with such

intense expression！ Her little sister was dressing her doll upon my lap.

The tears came into my eyes. I leaned down， and looked intently at her

wedding-ring： my tears fell—— immediately she began to play that favourite，

that divine ， air which has so often enchanted me. I felt comfort from

a recollection of the past， of those bygone days when that air was familiar

to me ； and then I recalled all the sorrows and the disappointments which

I had since endured. I paced with hasty strides through the room， my

heart became convulsed with painful emotions. At length I went up to her，

and exclaimed With eagerness， "For Heaven's sake ， play that air no

longer！" She stopped ， and looked steadfastly at me. She then said，

with a smile which sunk deep into my heart， "Werther ， you are ill：

your dearest food is distasteful to you. But go ， I entreat you， and

endeavour to compose yourself." I tore myself away. God ， thou seest

my torments ， and wilt end them！

DECEMBER 6. How her image haunts me ！ Waking or asleep ， she fills

my entire soul！ Soon as I close my eyes， here ， in my brain， where

all the nerves of vision are concentrated ， her dark eyes are imprinted.

Here—— I do not know how to describe it ； but， if I shut my eyes，

hers are immediately before me： dark as an abyss they open upon me ，

and absorb my senses.

And what is man —— that boasted demigod ？ Do not his powers fail

when he most requires their use ？ And whether he soar in joy ， or sink

in sorrow ， is not his career in both inevitably arrested？ And， whilst

he fondly dreams that he is grasping at infinity， does he not feel compelled

to return to a consciousness of his cold， monotonous existence ？

THE EDITOR TO THE READER.

It is a matter of extreme regret that we want original evidence of

the last remarkable days of our friend； and we are ， therefore， obliged

to interrupt the progress of his correspondence ， and to supply the deficiency

by a connected narration.

I have felt it my duty to collect accurate information from the mouths

of persons well acquainted with his history. The story is simple； and

all the accounts agree， except in some unimportant particulars. It is

true， that ， with respect to the characters of the persons spoken of，

opinions and judgments vary.

We have only， then ， to relate conscientiously the facts which our

diligent labour has enabled us to collect ， to give the letters of the

deceased， and to pay particular attention to the slightest fragment from

his pen ， more especially as it is so difficult to discover the real

and correct motives of men who are not of the common order.

Sorrow and discontent had taken deep root in Werther's soul ， and

gradually imparted their character to his whole being. The harmony of

his mind became completely disturbed； a perpetual excitement and mental

irritation， which weakened his natural powers， produced the saddest

etfects upon him， and rendered him at length the victim of an exhaustion

against which he struggled with still more painful efforts than he had

displayed ， even in contending with his other misfortunes. His mental

anxiety weakened his various good qualities ； and he was soon converted

into a gloomy companion ， always unhappy and unjust in his ideas ， the

more wretched he became. This was ， at least ， the opinion of Albert's

friends. They assert， moreover ， that the character of Albert himself

had undergone no change in the meantime ： he was still the same being

whom Werther had loved， honoured ， and respected from the commencement.

His love for Charlotte was unbounded： he was proud of her， and desired

that she should be recognised by every one as the noblest of created beings.

Was he， however， to blame for wishing to avert from her every appearance

of suspicion？ or for his unwillingness to share his rich prize with another，

even for a moment ， and in the most innocent manner？ It is asserted

that Albert frequently retired from his wife's apartment during Werther's

visits； but this did not arise from hatred or aversion to his friend ，

but only from a feeling that his presence was oppressive to Werther.

Charlotte's father， who was confined to the house by indisposition，

was accustomed to send his carriage for her ， that she might make excursions

in the neighbourhood. One day the weather had been unusually severe ，

and the whole country was covered with snow.

Werther went for Charlotte the following morning， in order that，

if Albert were absent ， he might conduct her home.

The beautiful weather produced but little impression on his troubled

spirit. A heavy weight lay upon his soul， deep melancholy had taken possession

of him， and his mind knew no change save from one painful thought to

another.

As he now never enjoyed internal peace， the condition of his fellow

creatures was to him a perpetual source of trouble and distress. He believed

he had disturbed the happiness of Albert and his wife ； and， whilst

he censured himself strongly for this ， he began to entertain a secret

dislike to Albert.

His thoughts were occasionally directed to this point. "Yes ，" he

would repeat to himself ， with ill-concealed dissatisfaction ， "yes ，

this is ， after all， the extent of that confiding ， dear ， tender ，

and sympathetic love， that calm and eternal fidelity ！ What do I behold

but satiety and indifference？ Does not every frivolous engagement attract

him more than his charming and lovely wife？ Does he know how to prize

his happiness ？ Can he value her as she deserves ？ He possesses her ，

it is true， I know that， as I know much more， and I have become accustomed

to the thought that he will drive me mad， or ， perhaps， murder me.

Is his friendship toward me unimpaired？ Does he not view my attachment

to Charlotte as an infringement upon his rights ， and consider my attention

to her as a silent rebuke to himself？ I know ， and indeed feel， that

he dislikes me， that he wishes for my absence， that my presence is hateful

to him."

He would often pause when on his way to visit Charlotte ， stand still，

as though in doubt， and seem desirous of returning ， but would nevertheless

proceed ； and， engaged in such thoughts and soliloquies as we have described，

he finally reached the hunting-lodge， with a sort of involuntary consent.

Upon one occasion he entered the house； and， inquiring for Charlotte，

he observed that the inmates were in a state of unusual confusion. The

eldest boy informed him that a dreadful misfortune had occurred at Walheim，

—— that a peasant had been murdered ！ But this made little impression

upon him. Entering the apartment， he found Charlotte engaged reasoning

with her father ， who， in spite of his infirmity， insisted on going

to the scene of the crime ， in order to institute an inquiry. The criminal

was unknown ； the victim had been found dead at his own door that morning.

Suspicions were excited ： the murdered man had been in the service of

a widow ， and the person who had previously filled the situation had

been dismissed from her employment.

As soon as Werther heard this ， he exclaimed with great excitement，

"Is it possible ！ I must go to the spot—— I cannot delay a moment！

" He hastened to Walheim. Every incident returned vividly to his remembrance

； and he entertained not the slightest doubt that that man was the murderer

to whom he had so often spoken， and for whom he entertained so much regard.

His way took him past the well-known lime trees ， to the house where

the body had been carried ； and his feelings were greatly excited at

the sight of the fondly recollected spot. That threshold where the neighbours'

children had so often played together was stained with blood； love and

attachment， the noblest feelings of human nature ， had been converted

into violence and murder. The huge trees stood there leafless and covered

with hoarfrost； the beautiful hedgerows which surrounded the old churchyard

wall were withered； and the gravestones， half covered with snow ， were

visible through the openings.

As he approached the inn， in front of which the whole village was

assembled ， screams were suddenly heard. A troop of armed peasants was

seen approaching， and every one exclaimed that the criminal had been

apprehended. Werther looked ， and was not long in doubt. The prisoner

was no other than the servant ， who had been formerly so attached to

the widow ， and whom he had met prowling about ， with that suppressed

anger and ill-concealed despair ， which we have before described.

"What have you done ， unfortunate man？" inquired Werther， as he

advanced toward the prisoner. The latter turned his eyes upon him in silence，

and then replied with perfect composure ； "No one will now marry her ，

and she will marry no one." The prisoner was taken into the inn ， and

Werther left the place. The mind of Werther was fearfully excited by this

shocking occurrence. He ceased， however， to be oppressed by his usual

feeling of melancholy ， moroseness ， and indifference to everything

that passed around him. He entertained a strong degree of pity for the

prisoner， and was seized with an indescribable anxiety to save him from

his impending fate. He considered him so unfortunate， he deemed his crime

so excusable， and thought his own condition so nearly similar， that

he felt convinced he could make every one else view the matter in the

light in which he saw it himself. He now became anxious to undertake his

defence ， and commenced composing an eloquent speech for the occasion

； and， on his way to the hunting-lodge， he could not refrain from speaking

aloud the statement which he resolved to make to the judge.

Upon his arrival， he found Albert had been before him： and he was

a little perplexed by this meeting； but he soon recovered himself， and

expressed his opinion with much warmth to the judge. The latter shook ，

his head doubtingly ； and although Werther urged his case with the utmost

zeal， feeling， and determination in defence of his client ， yet， as

we may easily suppose ， the judge was not much influenced by his appeal.

On the contrary ， he interrupted him in his address， reasoned with him

seriously ， and even administered a rebuke to him for becoming the advocate

of a murderer. He demonstrated， that ， according to this precedent，

every law might be violated ， and the public security utterly destroyed.

He added， moreover ， that in such a case he could himself do nothing，

without incurring the greatest responsibility ； that everything must

follow in the usual course， and pursue the ordinary channel.

Werther ， however， did not abandon his enterprise ， and even besought

the judge to connive at the flight of the prisoner. But this proposal

was peremptorily rejected. Albert ， who had taken some part in the discussion，

coincided in opinion with the judge. At this Werther became enraged ，

and took his leave in great anger ， after the judge had more than once

assured him that the prisoner could not be saved.

The excess of his grief at this assurance may be inferred from a note

we have found amongst his papers， and which was doubtless written upon

this very occasion.

"You cannot be saved， unfortunate man！ I see clearly that we cannot

be saved！"

Werther was highly incensed at the observations which Albert had made

to the judge in this matter of the prisoner. He thought he could detect

therein a little bitterness toward himself personally ； and although ，

upon reflection ， it could not escape his sound judgment that their view

of the matter was correct ， he felt the greatest possible reluctance

to make such an admission.

A memorandum of Werther's upon this point ， expressive of his general

feelings toward Albert， has been found amongst his papers.

"What is the use of my continually repeating that he is a good and

estimable man ？ He is an inward torment to me， and I am incapable of

being just toward him."

One fine evening in winter， when the weather seemed inclined to thaw，

Charlotte and Albert were returning home together. The former looked from

time to time about her， as if she missed Werther's company. Albert began

to speak of him ， and censured him for his prejudices. He alluded to

his unfortunate attachment， and wished it were possible to discontinue

his acquaintance. "I desire it on our own account ，" he added； "and

I request you will compel him to alter his deportment toward you， and

to visit you less frequently. The world is censorious ， and I know that

here and there we are spoken of." Charlotte made no reply ， and Albert

seemed to feel her silence. At least， from that time he never again spoke

of Werther； and， when she introduced the subject， he allowed the conversation

to die away ， or else he directed the discourse into another channel.

The vain attempt Werther had made to save the unhappy murderer was

the last feeble glimmering of a flame about to be extinguished. He sank

almost immediately afterward into a state of gloom and inactivity ， until

he was at length brought to perfect distraction by learning that he was

to be summoned as a witness against the prisoner， who asserted his complete

innocence.

His mind now became oppressed by the recollection of every misfortune

of his past life. The mortification he had suffered at the ambassador's，

and his subsequent troubles ， were revived in his memory. He became utterly

inactive. Destitute of energy ， he was cut off from every pursuit and

occupation which compose the business of common life； and he became a

victim to his own susceptibility， and to his restless passion for the

most amiable and beloved of women ， whose peace he destroyed. In this

unvarying monotony of existence his days were consumed； and his powers

became exhausted without aim or design， until they brought him to a sorrowful

end.

A few letters which he left behind， and which we here subjoin， afford

the best proofs of his anxiety of mind and of the depth of his passion，

as well as of his doubts and struggles， and of his weariness of life.

DECEMBER 12. Dear Wilhelm ， I am reduced to the condition of those

unfortunate wretches who believe they are pursued by an evil spirit. Sometimes

I am oppressed， not by apprehension or fear， but by an inexpressible

internal sensation， which weighs upon my heart ， and impedes my breath！

Then I wander forth at night， even in this tempestuous season， and feel

pleasure in surveying the dreadful scenes around me.

Yesterday evening I went forth. A rapid thaw had suddenly set in：

I had been informed that the river had risen， that the brooks had all

overflowed their banks， and that the whole vale of Walheim was under

water ！ Upon the stroke of twelve I hastened forth. I beheld a fearful

sight. The foaming torrents rolled from the mountains in the moonlight，

—— fields and meadows ， trees and hedges ， were confounded together

； and the entire valley was converted into a deep lake ， which was agitated

by the roaring wind ！ And when the moon shone forth， and tinged the

black clouds with silver， and the impetuous torrent at my feet foamed

and resounded with awful and grand impetuosity， I was overcome by a mingled

sensation of apprehension and delight. With extended arms I looked down

into the yawning abyss， and cried， "Plunge！'" For a moment my senses

forsook me， in the intense delight of ending my sorrows and my sufferings

by a plunge into that gulf！ And then I felt as if I were rooted to the

earth ， and incapable of seeking an end to my woes ！ But my hour is

not yet come： I feel it is not. O Wilhelm， how willingly could I abandon

my existence to ride the whirlwind， or to embrace the torrent！ and then

might not rapture perchance be the portion of this liberated soul ？

I turned my sorrowful eyes toward a favourite spot， where I was accustomed

to sit with Charlotte beneath a willow after a fatiguing walk. Alas ！

it was covered with water ， and with difficulty I found even the meadow.

And the fields around the hunting-lodge ， thought I. Has our dear bower

been destroyed by this unpitying storm？ And a beam of past happiness

streamed upon me， as the mind of a captive is illumined by dreams of

flocks and herds and bygone joys of home！ But I am free from blame. I

have courage to die ！ Perhaps I have ，—— but I still sit here ， like

a wretched pauper ， who collects fagots， and begs her bread from door

to door ， that she may prolong for a few days a miserable existence which

she is unwilling to resign.

DECEMBER 15. What is the matter with me ， dear Wilhelm ？ I am afraid

of myself ！ Is not my love for her of the purest ， most holy， and most

brotherly nature？ Has my soul ever been sullied by a single sensual desire？

but I will make no protestations. And now ， ye nightly visions ， how

truly have those mortals understood you ， who ascribe your various contradictory

effects to some invincible power！ This night I tremble at the avowal

—— I held her in my arms， locked in a close embrace： I pressed her

to my bosom ， and covered with countless kisses those dear lips which

murmured in reply soft protestations of love. My sight became confused

by the delicious intoxication of her eyes. Heavens！ is it sinful to revel

again in such happiness ， to recall once more those rapturous moments

with intense delight？ Charlotte！ Charlotte！ I am lost！ My senses are

bewildered， my recollection is confused， mine eyes are bathed in tears

—— I am ill ； and yet I am well—— I wish for nothing —— I have

no desires—— it were better I were gone.

Under the circumstances narrated above， a determination to quit this

world had now taken fixed possession of Werther's soul. Since Charlotte's

return， this thought had been the final object of all his hopes and wishes

； but he had resolved that such a step should not be taken with precipitation，

but with calmness and tranquillity， and with the most perfect deliberation.

His troubles and internal struggles may be understood from the following

fragment， which was found， without any date ， amongst his papers ，

and appears to have formed the beginning of a letter to Wilhelm.

"Her presence ， her fate ， her sympathy for me， have power still

to extract tears from my withered brain.

"One lifts up the curtain ， and passes to the other side ，—— that

is all！ And why all these doubts and delays？ Because we know not what

is behind —— because there is no returning—— and because our mind

infers that all is darkness and confusion ， where we have nothing but

uncertainty."

His appearance at length became quite altered by the effect of his

melancholy thoughts ； and his resolution was now finally and irrevocably

taken ， of which the following ambiguous letter， which he addressed

to his friend ， may appear to afford some proof.

DECEMBER 2O. I am grateful to your love ， Wilhelm， for having repeated

your advice so seasonably. Yes， you are right： it is undoubtedly better

that I should depart. But I do not entirely approve your scheme of returning

at once to your neighbourhood ； at least ， I should Iike to make a little

excursion on the way， particularly as we may now expect a continued frost，

and consequently good roads. I am much pleased with your intention of

coming to fetch me； only delay your journey for a fortnight， and wait

for another letter from me. One should gather nothing before it is ripe，

and a fortnight sooner or later makes a great difference. Entreat my mother

to pray for her son ， and tell her I beg her pardon for all the unhappiness

I have occasioned her. It has ever been my fate to give pain to those

whose happiness I should have promoted. Adieu ， my dearest friend. May

every blessing of Heaven attend you ！ Farewell.

We find it difficult to express the emotions with which Charlotte's

soul was agitated during the whole of this time ， whether in relation

to her husband or to her unfortunate friend ； although we are enabled，

by our knowledge of her character ， to understand their nature.

It is certain that she had formed a determination ， by every means

in her power to keep Werther at a distance； and， if she hesitated in

her decision， it was from a sincere feeling of friendly pity ， knowing

how much it would cost him， indeed ， that he would find it almost impossible

to comply with her wishes. But various causes now urged her to be firm.

Her hushand preserved a strict silence about the whole matter ； and she

never made it a subject of conversation ， feeling bound to prove to him

by her conduct that her sentiments agreed with his.

The same day， which was the Sunday before Christmas， after Werther

had written the last-mentioned letter to his friend ， he came in the

evening to Charlotte's house， and found her alone. She was busy preparing

some little gifts for her brothers and sisters， which were to be distributed

to them on Christmas Day. He began talking of the delight of the children，

and of that age when the sudden appearance of the Christmas-tree， decorated

with fruit and sweetmeats ， and lighted up with wax candles， causes

such transports of joy. "You shall have a gift too， if you behave well

，" said Charlotte ， hiding her embarrassment under sweet smile. "And

what do you call behaving well？ What should I do ， what can I do， my

dear Charlotte？" said he. "Thursday night，" she answered， "is Christmas

Eve. The children are all to be here， and my father too： there is a

present for each； do you come likewise ， but do not come before that

time." Werther started. "I desire you will not： it must be so，" she

continued. "I ask it of you as a favour ， for my own peace and tranquillity.

We cannot go on in this manner any longer." He turned away his face walked

hastily up and down the room， muttering indistinctly ， "We cannot go

on in this manner any longer！" Charlotte ， seeing the violent agitation

into which these words had thrown him ， endeavoured to divert his thoughts

by different questions， but in vain. "No ， Charlotte！" he exclaimed

； "I will never see you any more ！" "And why so ？" she answered. "We

may —— we must see each other again ； only let it be with more discretion.

Oh！ why were you born with that excessive， that ungovernable passion

for everything that is dear to you？" Then， taking his hand， she said，

"I entreat of you to be more calm ： your talents ， your understanding，

your genius ， will furnish you with a thousand resources. Be a man ，

and conquer an unhappy attachment toward a creature who can do nothing

but pity you." He bit his lips， and looked at her with a gloomy countenance.

She continued to hold his hand. "Grant me but a moment's patience ， Werther，

" she said. "Do you not see that you are deceiving yourself ， that you

are seeking your own destruction？ Why must you love me ， me only， who

belong to another ？ I fear ， I much fear， that it is only the impossibility

of possessing me which makes your desire for me so strong." He drew back

his hand， whilst he surveyed her with a wild and angry look. "'Tis well！

" he exclaimed， "'tis very well！ Did not Albert furnish you with this

reflection？ It is profound ， a very profound remark." "A reflection

that any one might easily make，" she answered； "and is there not a woman

in the whole world who is at liberty， and has the power to make you happy？

Conquer yourself： look for such a being， and believe me when I say that

you will certainly find her. I have long felt for you ， and for us all

： you have confined yourself too long within the limits of too narrow

a circle. Conquer yourself； make an effort ： a short journey will be

of service to you. Seek and find an object worthy of your love； then

return hither ， and let us enjoy together all the happiness of the most

perfect friendship."

"This speech，" replied Werther with a cold smile ， "this speech

should be printed ， for the benefit of all teachers. My dear Charlotte，

allow me but a short time longer， and all will be well." "But however，

Werther ，" she added ， "do not come again before Christmas." He was

about to make some answer ， when Albert came in. They saluted each other

coldly， and with mutual embarrassment paced up and down the room. Werther

made some common remarks； Albert did the same， and their conversation

soon dropped. Albert asked his wife about some household matters； and，

finding that his commissions were not executed， he used some expressions

which ， to Werther's ear ， savoured of extreme harshness. He wished

to go ， but had not power to move； and in this situation he remained

till eight o'clock， his uneasiness and discontent continually increasing.

At length the cloth was laid for supper ， and he took up his hat and

stick. Albert invited him to remain ； but Werther， fancying that he

was merely paying a formal compliment ， thanked him coldly ， amd left

the house.

Werther returned home ， took the candle from his servant ， and retired

to his room alone. He talked for some time with great earnestness to himself，

wept aloud， walked in a state of great excitement through his chamber

； till at length ， without undressing ， he threw himself on the bed，

where he was found by his servant at eleven o'clock ， when the latter

ventured to enter the room， and take off his boots. Werther did not prevent

him ， but forbade him to come in the morning till he should ring.

On Monday morning ， the 21st of December ， he wrote to Charlotte

the following letter， which was found， sealed ， on his bureau after

his death ， and was given to her. I shall insert it in fragments ； as

it appears， from several circumstances ， to have been written in that

manner.

"It is all over ， Charlotte： I am resolved to die ！ I make this

declaration deliberately and coolly ， without any romantic passion ，

on this morning of the day when I am to see you for the last time. At

the moment you read these lines ， O best of women， the cold grave will

hold the inanimate remains of that restless and unhappy being who ， in

the last moments of his existence ， knew no pleasure so great as that

of conversing with you！ I have passed a dreadful night or rather ， let

me say， a propitious one ； for it has given me resolution ， it has

fixed my purpose. I am resolved to die. When I tore myself from you yesterday，

my senses were in tumult and disorder ； my heart was oppressed ， hope

and pleasure had fled from me for ever， and a petrifying cold had seized

my wretched being. I could scarcely reach my room. I threw myself on my

knees ； and Heaven ， for the last time， granted me the consolation

of shedding tears. A thousand ideas ， a thousand schemes ， arose within

my soul ； till at length one last， fixed， final thought took possession

of my heart. It was to die. I lay down to rest； and in the morning ，

in the quiet hour of awakening， the same determination was upon me. To

die ！ It is not despair： it is conviction that I have filled up the

measure of my sufferings， that I have reached my appointed term， and

must sacrifice myself for thee. Yes ， Charlotte， why should I not avow

it？ One of us three must die ： it shall be Werther. O beloved Charlotte！

this heart， excited by rage and fury ， has often conceived the horrid

idea of murdering your husband—— you—— myself ！ The lot is cast at

length. And in the bright ， quiet evenings of summer ， when you sometimes

wander toward the mountains ， let your thoughts then turn to me： recollect

how often you have watched me coming to meet you from the valley； then

bend your eyes upon the churchyard which contains my grave， and， by

the light of the setting sun， mark how the evening breeze waves the tall

grass which grows above my tomb. I was calm when I began this letter，

but the recollection of these scenes makes me weep like a child." About

ten in the morning， Werther called his servant ， and， whilst he was

dressing， told him that in a few days he intended to set out upon a journey，

and bade him therefore lay his clothes in order ， and prepare them for

packing up， call in all his accounts ， fetch home the books he had lent，

and give two months' pay to the poor dependants who were accustomed to

receive from him a weekly allowance.

He breakfasted in his room， and then mounted his horse ， and went

to visit the steward， who， however， was not at home. He walked pensively

in the garden ， and seemed anxious to renew all the ideas that were most

painful to him.

The children did not suffer him to remain alone long. They followed

him ， skipping and dancing before him， and told him ， that after to-morrow

and tomorrow and one day more ， they were to receive their Christmas

gift from Charlotte ； and they then recounted all the wonders of which

they had formed ideas in their child imaginations. "Tomorrow and tomorrow，

" said he ， "and one day more！" And he kissed them tenderly. He was

going ； but the younger boy stopped him， to whisper something in his

ear. He told him that his elder brothers had written splendid New-Year's

wishes so large ！ one for papa ， and another for Albert and Charlotte，

and one for Werther ； and they were to be presented early in the morning，

on New Year's Day. This quite overcame him. He made each of the children

a present ， mounted his horse， left his compliments for papa and mamma，

and ， with tears in his eyes ， rode away from the place.

He returned home about five o'clock ， ordered his servant to keep

up his fire ， desired him to pack his books and linen at the bottom of

the trunk ， and to place his coats at the top. He then appears to have

made the following addition to the letter addressed to Charlotte：

"You do not expect me. You think I will obey you， and not visit you

again till Christmas Eve. O Charlotte ， today or never ！ On Christmas

Eve you will hold this paper in your hand ； you will tremble ， and moisten

it with your tears. I will—— I must ！ Oh ， how happy I feel to be

determined！"

In the meantime ， Charlotte was in a pitiable state of mind. After

her last conversation with Werther， she found how painful to herself

it would be to decline his visits ， and knew how severely he would suffer

from their separation.

She had ， in conversation with Albert， mentioned casually that Werther

would not return before Christmas Eve ； and soon afterward Albert went

on horseback to see a person in the neighbourhood ， with whom he had

to transact some business which would detain him all night.

Charlotte was sitting alone. None of her family were near ， and she

gave herself up to the reflections that silently took possession of her

mind. She was for ever united to a husband whose love and fidelity she

had proved， to whom she was heartily devoted ， and who seemed to be

a special gift from Heaven to ensure her happiness. On the other hand ，

Werther had become dear to her. There was a cordial unanimity of sentiment

between them from the very first hour of their acquaintance ， and their

long association and repeated interviews had made an indelible impression

upon her heart. She had been accustomed to communicate to him every thought

and feeling which interested her， and his absence threatened to open

a void in her existence which it might be impossible to fill. How heartily

she wished that she might change him into her brother ，—— that she

could induce him to marry one of her own friends， or could reestablish

his intimacy with Albert.

She passed all her intimate friends in review before her mind ， but

found something objectionable in each ， and could decide upon none to

whom she would consent to give him.

Amid all these considerations she felt deeply but indistinctly that

her own real but unexpressed wish was to retain him for herself ， and

her pure and amiable heart felt from this thought a sense of oppression

which seemed to forbid a prospect of happiness. She was wretched： a dark

cloud obscured her mental vision.

It was now half-past six o'clock， and she heard Werther's step on

the stairs. She at once recognised his voice， as he inquired if she were

at home. Her heart beat audibly —— we could almost say for the first

time—— at his arrival. It was too late to deny herself； and， as he

entered ， she exclaimed， with a sort of ill concealed confusion ， "You

have not kept your word ！" "I promised nothing ，" he answered. "But

you should have complied， at least for my sake ，" she continued. " I

implore you ， for both our sakes."

She scarcely knew what she said or did； and sent for some friends，

who ， by their presence， might prevent her being left alone with Werther.

He put down some books he had brought with him， then made inquiries about

some others ， until she began to hope that her friends might arrive shortly，

entertaining at the same time a desire that they might stay away.

At one moment she felt anxious that the servant should remain in the

adjoining room， then she changed her mind. Werther ， meanwhile， walked

impatiently up and down. She went to the piano， and determined not to

retire. She then collected her thoughts ， and sat down quietly at Werther's

side， who had taken his usual place on the sofa.

"Have you brought nothing to read ？" she inquired. He had nothing.

"There in my drawer ，" she continued ， "you will find your own translation

of some of the songs of Ossian. I have not yet read them， as I have still

hoped to hear you recite them ； but， for some time past ， I have not

been able to accomplish such a wish." He smiled ， and went for the manuscript，

which he took with a shudder. He sat down ； and， with eyes full of tears，

he began to read.

"Star of descending night ！ fair is thy light in the west！ thou

liftest thy unshorn head from thy cloud ； thy steps are stately on thy

hill. What dost thou behold in the plain？ The stormy winds are laid.

The murmur of the torrent comes from afar. Roaring waves climb the distant

rock. The flies of evening are on their feeble wings： the hum of their

course is on the field. What dost thou behold ， fair light ？ But thou

dost smile and depart. The waves come with joy around thee： they bathe

thy lovely hair. Farewell ， thou silent beam ！ Let the light of Ossian's

soul arise！

"And it does arise in its strength！ I behold my departed friends.

Their gathering is on Lora， as in the days of other years. Fingal comes

like a watery column of mist！ his heroes are around： and see the bards

of song ， gray-haired Ullin！ stately Ryno ！ Alpin with the tuneful

voice ： the soft complaint of Minona ！ How are ye changed ， my friends，

since the days of Selma's feast ！ when we contended， like gales of spring

as they fly along the hill， and bend by turns the feebly whistling grass.

"Minona came forth in her beauty， with downcast look and tearful

eye. Her hair was flying slowly with the blast that rushed unfrequent

from the hill. The souls of the heroes were sad when she raised the tuneful

voice. Oft had they seen the grave of Salgar， the dark dwelling of white-bosomed

Colma. Colma left alone on the hill with all her voice of song！ Salgar

promised to come！ but the night descended around. Hear the voice of Colma，

when she sat alone on the hill！

"Colma. It is night ： I am alone ， forlorn on the hill of storms.

The wind is heard on the mountain. The torrent is howling down the rock.

No hut receives me from the rain： forlorn on the hill of winds ！

"Rise moon！ from behind thy clouds. Stars of the night ， arise！

Lead me ， some light ， to the place where my love rests from the chase

alone ！ His bow near him unstrung， his dogs panting around him！ But

here I must sit alone by the rock of the mossy stream. The stream and

the wind roar aloud. I hear not the voice of my love！ Why delays my Salgar

； why the chief of the hill his promise？ Here is the rock and here the

tree！ here is the roaring stream ！ Thou didst promise with night to

be here. Ah ！ whither is my Salgar gone？ With thee I would fly from

my father ， with thee from my brother of pride. Our race have long been

foes： we are not foes， O Salgar ！

"Cease a little while ， O wind ！ stream ， be thou silent awhile！

let my voice be heard around！ let my wanderer hear me！ Salgar ！ it

is Colma who calls. Here is the tree and the rock. Salgar ， my love，

I am here ！ Why delayest thou thy coming ？ Lo ！ the calm moon comes

forth. The flood is bright in the vale. The rocks are gray on the steep.

I see him not on the brow. His dogs come not before him with tidings of

his near approach. Here I must sit alone！

"Who lie on the heath beside me ？ Are they my love and my brother？

Speak to me ， O my friends ！ To Colma they give no reply. Speak to me

： I am alone ！ My soul is tormented with fears. Ah， they are dead！

Their swords are red from the fight. O my brother ！ my brother ！ why

hast thou slain my Salgar ！ Why， O Salgar ， hast thou slain my brother！

Dear were ye both to me ！ what shall I say in your praise？ Thou wert

fair on the hill among thousands！ he was terrible in fight ！ Speak to

me！ hear my voice！ hear me， sons of my love！ They are silent！ silent

for ever！ Cold ， cold ， are their breasts of clay！ Oh ， from the

rock on the hill， from the top of the windy steep， speak， ye ghosts

of the dead ！ Speak， I will not be afraid ！ Whither are ye gone to

rest？ In what cave of the hill shall I find the departed ？ No feeble

voice is on the gale： no answer half drowned in the storm！

"I sit in my grief： I wait for morning in my tears ！ Rear the tomb，

ye friends of the dead. Close it not till Colma come. My life flies away

like a dream. Why should I stay behind？ Here shall I rest with my friends，

by the stream of the sounding rock. When night comes on the hill when

the loud winds arise my ghost shall stand in the blast， and mourn the

death of my friends. The hunter shall hear from his booth ； he shall

fear， but love my voice！ For sweet shall my voice be for my friends

： pleasant were her friends to Colma.

"Such was thy song， Minona ， softly blushing daughter of Torman.

Our tears descended for Colma ， and our souls were sad ！ Ullin came

with his harp ； he gave the song of Alpin. The voice of Alpin was pleasant，

the soul of Ryno was a beam of fire ！ But they had rested in the narrow

house ： their voice had ceased in Selma！ Ullin had returned one day

from the chase before the heroes fell. He heard their strife on the hill

： their song was soft， but sad！ They mourned the fall of Morar ， first

of mortal men ！ His soul was like the soul of Fingal ： his sword like

the sword of Oscar. But he fell ， and his father mourned ： his sister's

eyes were full of tears. Minona's eyes were full of tears ， the sister

of car-borne Morar. She retired from the song of Ullin， like the moon

in the west ， when she foresees the shower ， and hides her fair head

in a cloud. I touched the harp with Ullin ： the song of morning rose ！

"Ryno. The wind and the rain are past ， calm is the noon of day.

The clouds are divided in heaven. Over the green hills flies the inconstant

sun. Red through the stony vale comes down the stream of the hill. Sweet

are thy murmurs ， O stream ！ but more sweet is the voice I hear. It

is the voice of Alpin ， the son of song， mourning for the dead！ Bent

is his head of age： red his tearful eye. Alpin ， thou son of song ，

why alone on the silent hill？ why complainest thou ， as a blast in the

wood as a wave on the lonely shore？

"Alpin. My tears， O Ryno ！ are for the dead my voice for those that

have passed away. Tall thou art on the hill ； fair among the sons of

the vale. But thou shalt fall like Morar： the mourner shall sit on thy

tomb. The hills shall know thee no more ： thy bow shall lie in thy hall

unstrung！

"Thou wert swift， O Morar！ as a roe on the desert ： terrible as

a meteor of fire. Thy wrath was as the storm. Thy sword in battle as lightning

in the field. Thy voice was as a stream after rain， like thunder on distant

hills. Many fell by thy arm ： they were consumed in the flames of thy

wrath. But when thou didst return from war， how peaceful was thy brow.

Thy face was like the sun after rain： like the moon in the silence of

night ： calm as the breast of the lake when the loud wind is laid.

"Narrow is thy dwelling now ！ dark the place of thine abode！ With

three steps I compass thy grave ， O thou who wast so great before！ Four

stones， with their heads of moss ， are the only memorial of thee. A

tree with scarce a leaf ， long grass which whistles in the wind， mark

to the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar. Morar！ thou art low

indeed. Thou hast no mother to mourn thee ， no maid with her tears of

love. Dead is she that brought thee forth. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan.

"Who on his staff is this ？ Who is this whose head is white with

age ， whose eyes are red with tears， who quakes at every step ？ It

is thy father ， O Morar！ the father of no son but thee. He heard of

thy fame in war ， he heard of foes dispersed. He heard of Morar's renown，

why did he not hear of his wound？ Weep ， thou father of Morar ！ Weep，

but thy son heareth thee not. Deep is the sleep of the dead ， low their

pillow of dust. No more shall he hear thy voice ， no more awake at thy

call. When shall it be morn in the grave， to bid the slumberer awake ？

Farewell， thou bravest of men！ thou conqueror in the field！ but the

field shall see thee no more， nor the dark wood be lightened with the

splendour of thy steel. Thou has left no son. The song shall preserve

thy name. Future times shall hear of thee they shall hear of the fallen

Morar ！

"The grief of all arose ， but most the bursting sigh of Armin. He

remembers the death of his son， who fell in the days of his youth. Carmor

was near the hero ， the chief of the echoing Galmal. Why burst the sigh

of Armin？ he said. Is there a cause to mourn ？ The song comes with its

music to melt and please the soul. It is like soft mist that， rising

from a lake ， pours on the silent vale ； the green flowers are filled

with dew， but the sun returns in his strength， and the mist is gone.

Why art thou sad， O Armin， chief of sea-surrounded Gorma？

"Sad I am ！ nor small is my cause of woe ！ Carmor ， thou hast lost

no son； thou hast lost no daughter of beauty. Colgar the valiant lives，

and Annira， fairest maid. The boughs of thy house ascend ， O Carmor ！

but Armin is the last of his race. Dark is thy bed， O Daura！ deep thy

sleep in the tomb ！ When shalt thou wake with thy songs？ with all thy

voice of music？

"Arise， winds of autumn， arise： blow along the heath. Streams of

the mountains ， roar ； roar ， tempests in the groves of my oaks！ Walk

through broken clouds ， O moon ！ show thy pale face at intervals； bring

to my mind the night when all my children fell， when Arindal the mighty

fell—— when Daura the lovely failed. Daura， my daughter， thou wert

fair， fair as the moon on Fura ， white as the driven snow ， sweet as

the breathing gale. Arindal ， thy bow was strong ， thy spear was swift

on the field， thy look was like mist on the wave ， thy shield a red

cloud in a storm！ Armar， renowned in war， came and sought Daura's love.

He was not long refused ： fair was the hope of their friends.

"Erath， son of Odgal ， repined： his brother had been slain by Armar.

He came disguised like a son of the sea ： fair was his cliff on the wave，

white his locks of age， calm his serious brow. Fairest of women， he

said， lovely daughter of Armin ！ a rock not distant in the sea bears

a tree on its side； red shines the fruit afar. There Armar waits for

Daura. I come to carry his love ！ she went she called on Armar. Nought

answered， but the son of the rock. Armar ， my love， my love！ why tormentest

thou me with fear ？ Hear ， son of Arnart， hear ！ it is Daura who calleth

thee. Erath ， the traitor， fled laughing to the land. She lifted up

her voice —— she called for her brother and her father. Arindal ！ Armin！

none to relieve you ， Daura.

"Her voice came over the sea. Arindal ， my son ， descended from

the hill， rough in the spoils of the chase. His arrows rattled by his

side； his bow was in his hand， five dark-gray dogs attended his steps.

He saw fierce Erath on the shore； he seized and bound him to an oak.

Thick wind the thongs of the hide around his limbs； he loads the winds

with his groans. Arindal ascends the deep in his boat to bring Daura to

land. Armar came in his wrath ， and let fly the gray-feathered shaft.

It sung ， it sunk in thy heart ， O Arindal， my son ！ for Erath the

traitor thou diest. The oar is stopped at once： he panted on the rock，

and expired. What is thy grief， O Daura， when round thy feet is poured

thy brother's blood. The boat is broken in twain. Armar plunges into the

sea to rescue his Daura ， or die. Sudden a blast from a hill came over

the waves ； he sank， and he rose no more.

"Alone， on the sea-beat rock ， my daughter was heard to complain

； frequent and loud were her cries. What could her father do ？ All night

I stood on the shore： I saw her by the faint beam of the moon. All night

I heard her cries. Loud was the wind； the rain beat hard on the hill.

Before morning appeared ， her voice was weak ； it died away like the

evening breeze among the grass of the rocks. Spent with grief ， she expired，

and left thee ， Armin， alone. Gone is my strength in war， fallen my

pride among women. When the storms aloft arise， when the north lifts

the wave on high， I sit by the sounding shore， and look on the fatal

rock.

"Often by the setting moon I see the ghosts of my children； half

viewless they walk in mournful conference together."

A torrent of tears which streamed from Charlotte's eyes and gave relief

to her bursting heart ， stopped Werther's recitation. He threw down the

book， seized her hand， and wept bitterly. Charlotte leaned upon her

hand， and buried her face in her handkerchief： the agitation of both

was excessive. They felt that their own fate was pictured in the misfortunes

of Ossian's heroes， they felt this together， and their tears redoubled.

Werther supported his forehead on Charlotte's arm ： she trembled ， she

wished to be gone ； but sorrow and sympathy lay like a leaden weight

upon her soul. She recovered herself shortly， and begged Werther ， with

broken sobs ， to leave her ， implored him with the utmost earnestness

to comply with her request. He trembled ； his heart was ready to burst

： then ， taking up the book again ， he recommenced reading ， in a

voice broken by sobs. "Why dost thou waken me ， O spring ？ Thy voice

woos me ， exclaiming ， I refresh thee with heavenly dews； but the time

of my decay is approaching， the storm is nigh that shall whither my leaves.

Tomorrow the traveller shall come ， he shall come， who beheld me in

beauty： his eye shall seek me in the field around， but he shall not

find me."

The whole force of these words fell upon the unfortunate Werther.

Full of despair ， he threw himself at Charlotte's feet ， seized her

hands ， and pressed them to his eyes and to his forehead. An apprehension

of his fatal project now struck her for the first time. Her senses were

bewildered： she held his hands ， pressed them to her bosom； and， leaning

toward him with emotions of the tenderest pity， her warm cheek touched

his. They lost sight of everything. The world disappeared from their eyes.

He clasped her in his arms， strained her to his bosom， and covered her

trembling lips with passionate kisses. "Werther ！" she cried with a faint

voice ， turning herself away ； "Werther ！" and ， with a feeble hand，

she pushed him from her. At length， with the firm voice of virtue， she

exclaimed ， "Werther ！" He resisted not ， but， tearing himself from

her arms， fell on his knees before her. Charlotte rose ， and， with

disordered grief， in mingled tones of love and resentment， she exclaimed，

"It is the last time， Werther！ You shall never see me any more！" Then，

casting one last， tender look upon her unfortunate lover ， she rushed

into the adjoining room ， and locked the door. Werther held out his arms，

but did not dare to detain her. He continued on the ground， with his

head resting on the sofa， for half an hour ， till he heard a noise which

brought him to his senses. The servant entered. He then walked up and

down the room ； and， when he was again left alone ， he went to Charlotte's

door， and， in a low voice ， said ， "Charlotte ， Charlotte！ but one

word more ， one last adieu ！" She returned no answer. He stopped， and

listened and entreated； but all was silent. At length he tore himself

from the place， crying ， "Adieu ， Charlotte， adieu for ever ！"

Werther ran to the gate of the town. The guards ， who knew him ，

let him pass in silence. The night was dark and stormy，—— it rained

and snowed. He reached his own door about eleven. His servant ， although

seeing him enter the house without his hat， did not venture to say anything

； and； as he undressed his master ， he found that his clothes were

wet. His hat was afterward found on the point of a rock overhanging the

valley； and it is inconceivable how he could have climbed to the summit

on such a dark， tempestuous night without losing his life.

He retired to bed ， and slept to a late hour. The next morning his

servant ， upon being called to bring his coffee， found him writing.

He was adding ， to Charlotte ， what we here annex.

"For the last ， last time I open these eyes. Alas！ they will behold

the sun no more. It is covered by a thick ， impenetrable cloud. Yes，

Nature！ put on mourning： your child ， your friend， your lover ， draws

near his end！ This thought ， Charlotte， is without parallel； and yet

it seems like a mysterious dream when I repeat—— this is my last day！

The last！ Charlotte， no word can adequately express this thought. The

last！ To-day I stand erect in all my strength to-morrow， cold and stark，

I shall lie extended upon the ground. To die！ what is death？ We do but

dream in our discourse upon it. I have seen many human beings die ； but，

so straitened is our feeble nature， we have no clear conception of the

beginning or the end of our existence. At this moment I am my own ——

or rather I am thine， thine， my adored！ and the next we are parted ，

severed —— perhaps for ever ！ No ， Charlotte， no ！ How can I， how

can you ， be annihilated ？ We exist. What is annihilation ？ A mere

word， an unmeaning sound that fixes no impression on the mind. Dead，

Charlotte ！ laid in the cold earth ， in the dark and narrow grave ！

I had a friend once who was everything to me in early youth. She died.

I followed her hearse ； I stood by her grave when the coffin was lowered

； and when I heard the creaking of the cords as they were loosened and

drawn up， when the first shovelful of earth was thrown in， and the coffin

returned a hollow sound ， which grew fainter and fainter till all was

completely covered over ， I threw myself on the ground ； my heart was

smitten ， grieved， shattered， rent —— but I neither knew what had

happened， nor what was to happen to me. Death！ the grave！ I understand

not the words.—— Forgive， oh ， forgive me ！ Yesterday—— ah ， that

day should have been the last of my life！ Thou angel ！ for the first

time in my existence， I felt rapture glow within my inmost soul. She

loves ， she loves me ！ Still burns upon my lips the sacred fire they

received from thine. New torrents of delight overwhelm my soul. Forgive

me， oh ， forgive！

"I knew that I was dear to you； I saw it in your first entrancing

look， knew it by the first pressure of your hand ； but when I was absent

from you， when I saw Albert at your side ， my doubts and fears returned.

"Do you remember the flowers you sent me， when ， at that crowded

assembly， you could neither speak nor extend your hand to me ？ Half

the night I was on my knees before those flowers， and I regarded them

as the pledges of your love ； but those impressions grew fainter ， and

were at length effaced.

"Everything passes away ； but a whole eternity could not extinguish

the living flame which was yesterday kindled by your lips ， and which

now burns within me. She loves me ！ These arms have encircled her waist，

these lips have trembled upon hers. She is mine ！ Yes， Charlotte， you

are mine for ever ！

"And what do they mean by saying Albert is your husband ？ He may

be so for this world； and in this world it is a sin to love you， to

wish to tear you from his embrace. Yes， it is a crime； and I suffer

the punishment， but I have enjoyed the full delight of my sin. I have

inhaled a balm that has revived my soul. From this hour you are mine；

yes ， Charlotte， you are mine ！ I go before you. I go to my Father

and to your Father. I will pour out my sorrows before him ， and he will

give me comfort till you arrive. Then will I fly to meet you. I will claim

you ， and remain your eternal embrace， in the presence of the Almighty.

"I do not dream ， I do not rave. Drawing nearer to the grave my perceptions

become clearer. We shall exist； we shall see each other again； we shall

behold your mother； I shall behold her ， and expose to her my inmost

heart. Your mother—— your image ！"

About eleven o'clock Werther asked his servant if Albert had returned.

He answered ， "Yes ；" for he had seen him pass on horseback ： upon

which Werther sent him the following note ， unsealed ：

"Be so good as to lend me your pistols for a journey. Adieu."

Charlotte had slept little during the past night. All her apprehensions

were realised in a way that she could neither foresee nor avoid. Her blood

was boiling in her veins， and a thousand painful sensations rent her

pure heart. Was it the ardour of Werther's passionate embraces that she

felt within her bosom ？ Was it anger at his daring ？ Was it the sad

comparison of her present condition with former days of innocence ， tranquillity，

and self-confidence ？ How could she approach her husband ， and confess

a scene which she had no reason to conceal， and which she yet felt ，

nevertheless， unwilling to avow？ They had preserved so long a silence

toward each other and should she be the first to break it by so unexpected

a discovery ？ She feared that the mere statement of Werther's visit would

trouble him ， and his distress would be heightened by her perfect candour.

She wished that he could see her in her true light， and judge her without

prejudice ； but was she anxious that he should read her inmost soul？

On the other hand ， could she deceive a being to whom all her thoughts

had ever been exposed as clearly as crystal ， and from whom no sentiment

had ever been concealed ？ These reflections made her anxious and thoughtful.

Her mind still dwelt on Werther ， who was now lost to her， but whom

she could not bring herself to resign ， and for whom she knew nothing

was left but despair if she should be lost to him for ever.

A recollection of that mysterious estrangement which had lately subsisted

between herself and Albert， and which she could never thoroughly understand，

was now beyond measure painful to her. Even the prudent and the good have

before now hesitated to explain their mutual differences， and have dwelt

in silence upon their imaginary grievances， until circumstances have

become so entangled ， that in that critical juncture ， when a calm explanation

would have saved all parties， an understanding was impossible. And thus

if domestic confidence had been earlier established between them， if

love and kind forbearance had mutually animated and expanded their hearts，

it might not， perhaps， even yet have been too late to save our friend.

But we must not forget one remarkable circumstance. We may observe

from the character of Werther's correspondence， that he had never affected

to conceal his anxious desire to quit this world. He had often discussed

the subject with Albert ； and， between the latter and Charlotte ， it

had not unfrequently formed a topic of conversation. Albert was so opposed

to the very idea of such an action， that ， with a degree of irritation

unusual in him， he had more than once given Werther to understand that

he doubted the seriousness of his threats ， and not only turned them

into ridicule ， but caused Charlotte to share his feelings of incredulity.

Her heart was thus tranquillised when she felt disposed to view the melancholy

subject in a serious point of view， though she never communicated to

her husband the apprehensions she sometimes experienced.

Albert， upon his return， was received by Charlotte with ill-concealed

embarrassment. He was himself out of humour ； his business was unfinished

； and he had just discovered that the neighbouring official with whom

he had to deal， was an obstinate and narrow-minded personage. Many things

had occurred to irritate him.

He inquired whether anything had happened during his absence， and

Charlotte hastily answered that Werther had been there on the evening

previously. He then inquired for his letters， and was answered that several

packages had been left in his study. He thereon retired ， leaving Charlotte

alone.

The presence of the being she loved and honoured produced a new impression

on her heart. The recollection of his generosity， kindness ， and affection

had calmed her agitation： a secret impulse prompted her to follow him

； she took her work and went to his study， as was often her custom.

He was busily employed opening and reading his letters. It seemed as if

the contents of some were disagreeable. She asked some questions： he

gave short answers， and sat down to write.

Several hours passed in this manner ， and Charlotte's feelings became

more and more melancholy. She felt the extreme difficulty of explaining

to her husband， under any circumstances， the weight that lay upon her

heart ； and her depression became every moment greater ， in proportion

as she endeavoured to hide her grief， and to conceal her tears.

The arrival of Werther's servant occasioned her the greatest embarrassment.

He gave Albert a note ， which the latter coldly handed to his wife ，

saying， at the same time ， "Give him the pistols. I wish him a pleasant

journey ，" he added， turning to the servant. These words fell upon Charlotte

like a thunderstroke： she rose from her seat half-fainting ， and unconscious

of what she did. She walked mechanically toward the wall， took down the

pistols with a trembling hand ， slowly wiped the dust from them， and

would have delayed longer ， had not Albert hastened her movements by

an impatient look. She then delivered the fatal weapons to the servant，

without being able to utter a word. As soon as he had departed， she folded

up her work ， and retired at once to her room， her heart overcome with

the most fearful forebodings. She anticipated some dreadful calamity.

She was at one moment on the point of going to her husband， throwing

herself at his feet ， and acquainting him with all that had happened

on the previous evening ， that she might acknowledge her fault ， and

explain her apprehensions ； then she saw that such a step would be useless，

as she would certainly be unable to induce Albert to visit Werther. Dinner

was served； and a kind friend whom she had persuaded to remain assisted

to sustain the conversation ， which was carried on by a sort of compulsion，

till the events of the morning were forgotten.

When the servant brought the pistols to Werther ， the latter received

them with transports of delight upon hearing that Charlotte had given

them to him with her own hand. He ate some bread， drank some wine， sent

his servant to dinner ， and then sat down to write as follows：

"They have been in your hands you wiped the dust from them. I kiss

them a thousand times —— you have touched them. Yes ， Heaven favours

my design ， and you， Charlotte， provide me with the fatal instruments.

It was my desire to receive my death from your hands， and my wish is

gratified. I have made inquiries of my servant. You trembled when you

gave him the pistols， but you bade me no adieu. Wretched ， wretched

that I am —— not one farewell ！ How could you shut your heart against

me in that hour which makes you mine for ever ？ Charlotte， ages cannot

efface the impression —— I feel you cannot hate the man who so passionately

loves you ！"

After dinner he called his servant， desired him to finish the packing

up， destroyed many papers， and then went out to pay some trifling debts.

He soon returned home ， then went out again， notwithstanding the rain，

walked for some time in the count's garden， and afterward proceeded farther

into the country. Toward evening he came back once more ， and resumed

his writing.

"Wilhelm， I have for the last time beheld the mountains， the forests，

and the sky. Farewell ！ And you， my dearest mother， forgive me ！ Console

her ， Wilhelm. God bless you ！ I have settled all my affairs！ Farewell！

We shall meet again ， and be happier than ever."

"I have requited you badly， Albert ； but you will forgive me. I

have disturbed the peace of your home. I have sowed distrust between you.

Farewell！ I will end all this wretchedness. And oh ， that my death may

render you happy！ Albert ， Albert ！ make that angel happy， and the

blessing of Heaven be upon you！"

He spent the rest of the evening in arranging his papers： he tore

and burned a great many ； others he sealed up， and directed to Wilhelm.

They contained some detached thoughts and maxims， some of which I have

perused. At ten o'clock he ordered his fire to be made up ， and a bottle

of wine to be brought to him. He then dismissed his servant ， whose room，

as well as the apartments of the rest of the family ， was situated in

another part of the house. The servant lay down without undressing， that

he might be the sooner ready for his journey in the morning ， his master

having informed him that the post-horses would be at the door before six

o'clock.

"Past eleven o'clock！ All is silent around me， and my soul is calm.

I thank thee， O God， that thou bestowest strength and courage upon me

in these last moments ！ I approach the window， my dearest of friends

； and through the clouds ， which are at this moment driven rapidly along

by the impetuous winds， I behold the stars which illumine the eternal

heavens. No ， you will not fall， celestial bodies ： the hand of the

Almighty supports both you and me ！ I have looked for the last time upon

the constellation of the Greater Bear ： it is my favourite star； for

when I bade you farewell at night ， Charlotte， and turned my steps from

your door ， it always shone upon me. With what rapture have I at times

beheld it ！ How often have I implored it with uplifted hands to witness

my felicity ！ and even still —— But what object is there ， Charlotte，

which fails to summon up your image before me ？ Do you not surround me

on all sides？ and have I not ， like a child ， treasured up every trifle

which you have consecrated by your touch？ "Your profile， which was so

dear to me， I return to you； and I pray you to preserve it. Thousands

of kisses have I imprinted upon it， and a thousand times has it gladdened

my heart on departing from and returning to my home.

"I have implored your father to protect my remains. At the corner

of the churchyard ， looking toward the fields， there are two lime-trees

—— there I wish to lie. Your father can ， and doubtless will ， do

this much for his friend. Implore it of him. But perhaps pious Christians

will not choose that their bodies chould be buried near the corpse of

a poor， unhappy wretch like me. Then let me be laid in some remote valley，

or near the highway ， where the priest and Levite may bless themselves

as they pass by my tomb ， whilst the Samaritan will shed a tear for my

fate.

"See， Charlotte， I do not shudder to take the cold and fatal cup，

from which I shall drink the draught of death. Your hand presents it to

me， and I do not tremble. All， all is now concluded ： the wishes and

the hopes of my existence are fulfilled. With cold， unflinching hand

I knock at the brazen portals of Death. Oh， that I had enjoyed the bliss

of dying for you！ how gladly would I have sacrificed myself for you；

Charlotte ！ And could I but restore peace and joy to your bosom， with

what resolution ， with what joy， would I not meet my fate ！ But it

is the lot of only a chosen few to shed their blood for their friends ，

and by their death to augment ， a thousand times ， the happiness of

those by whom they are beloved.

I wish， Charlotte， to be buried in the dress I wear at present：

it has been rendered sacred by your touch. I have begged this favour of

your father. My spirit soars above my sepulchre. I do not wish my pockets

to be searched. The knot of pink ribbon which you wore on your bosom the

first time I saw you， surrounded by the children —— Oh ， kiss them

a thousand times for me ， and tell them the fate of their unhappy friend！

I think I see them playing around me. The dear children ！ How warmly

have I been attached to you ， Charlotte！ Since the first hour I saw

you ， how impossible have I found it to leave you. This ribbon must be

buried with me： it was a present from you on my birthday. How confused

it all appears！ Little did I then think that I should journey this road.

But peace ！ I pray you ， peace！

"They are loaded—— the clock strikes twelve. I say amen. Charlotte，

Charlotte ！ farewell ， farewell ！"

A neighbour saw the flash ， and heard the report of the pistol ；

but ， as everything remained quiet ， he thought no more of it.

In the morning， at six o'clock ， the servant went into Werther's

room with a candle. He found his master stretched upon the floor， weltering

in his blood， and the pistols at his side. He called ， he took him in

his arms， but received no answer. Life was not yet quite extinct. The

servant ran for a surgeon ， and then went to fetch Albert. Charlotte

heard the ringing of the bell ： a cold shudder seized her. She wakened

her husband ， and they both rose. The servant， bathed in tears faltered

forth the dreadful news. Charlotte fell senseless at Albert's feet.

When the surgeon came to the unfortunate Werther， he was still lying

on the floor； and his pulse beat ， but his limbs were cold. The bullet，

entering the forehead ， over the right eye ， had penetrated the skull.

A vein was opened in his right arm： the blood came ， and he still continued

to breathe.

From the blood which flowed from the chair， it could be inferred

that he had committed the rash act sitting at his bureau， and that he

afterward fell upon the floor. He was found lying on his back near the

window. He was in full-dress costume.

The house ， the neighbourhood， and the whole town were immediately

in commotion. Albert arrived. They had laid Werther on the bed： his head

was bound up， and the paleness of death was upon his face. His limbs

were motionless ； but he still breathed， at one time strongly ， then

weaker—— his death was momently expected.

He had drunk only one glass of the wine. "Emilia Galotti" lay open

upon his bureau.

I shall say nothing of Albert's distress， or of Charlotte's grief.

The old steward hastened to the house immediately upon hearing the

news： he embraced his dying friend amid a flood of tears. His eldest

boys soon followed him on foot. In speechless sorrow they threw themselves

on their knees by the bedside ， and kissed his hands and face. The eldest，

who was his favourite ， hung over him till he expired； and even then

he was removed by force. At twelve o'clock Werther breathed his last.

The presence of the steward ， and the precautions he had adopted ， prevented

a disturbance ； and that night ， at the hour of eleven， he caused the

body to be interred in the place which Werther had selected for himself.

The steward and his sons followed the corpse to the grave. Albert

was unable to accompany them. Charlotte's life was despaired of. The body

was carried by labourers. No priest attended.

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