Je ne puis résister au plaisir de transcrire une lettre écrite en
mauvais anglais par une jeune Allemande. Il est donc prouvé qu'il y a
des amours constantes, et tous les hommes de génie ne sont pas des
Mirabeau. Klopstock, le grand poète, passe à Hambourg pour avoir été un
homme aimable; voici ce que sa jeune femme écrivait à une amie intime:
«After having seen him two hours, I was obliged to pass the evening in a
company, which never had been so wearisome to me. I could not speak, I
could not play; I thought I saw nothing but Klopstock; I saw him the
next day, and the following and we were very seriously friends. But the
fourth day he departed. It was a strong hour the hour of his departure!
He wrote soon after; from that time our correspondence began to be a
very diligent one. I sincerely believed my love to be friendship. I
spoke with my friends of nothing but Klopstock, and showed his letters.
They raillied at me and said I was in love. I raillied then again, and
said that they must have a very friendshipless heart, if they had no
idea of friendship to a man as well as to a woman. Thus it continued
eight months, in which time my friends found as much love in Klopstock's
letters as in me. I perceived it likewise, but I would not believe it.
At the last Klopstock said plainly that he loved; and I startled as for
a wrong thing; I answered that it was no love, but friendship, as it was
what I felt for him; we had not seen one another enough to love (as if
love must have more time than friendship). This was sincerely my
meaning, and I had this meaning till Klopstock came again to Hamburg.
This he did a year after we had seen one another the first time. We saw,
we were friends, we loved; and a short time after, I could even tell
Klopstock that I loved. But we were obliged to part again, and wait two
years for our wedding. My mother would not let marry me a stranger. I
could marry then without her consent, as by the death of my father my
fortune depended not on her; but this was a horrible idea for me; and
thank heaven that I have prevailed by prayers! At this time knowing
Klopstock, she loves him as her lifely son, and thanks god that she has
not persisted. We married and I am the happiest wife in the world. In
some few months it will be four years that I am so happy...»
(_Correspondence of Richardson_, vol. III, page 147.)