I have made all sorts of acquaintances, but have as yet found no
society. I know not what attraction I possess for the people, so many
of them like me, and attach themselves to me; and then I feel sorry when
the road we pursue together goes only a short distance. If you inquire
what the people are like here, I must answer, "The same as everywhere."
The human race is but a monotonous affair. Most of them labour the
greater part of their time for mere subsistence; and the scanty portion
of freedom which remains to them so troubles them that they use every
exertion to get rid of it. Oh, the destiny of man!
But they are a right good sort of people. If I occasionally forget
myself, and take part in the innocent pleasures which are not yet
forbidden to the peasantry, and enjoy myself, for instance, with
genuine freedom and sincerity, round a well-covered table, or arrange an
excursion or a dance opportunely, and so forth, all this produces a good
effect upon my disposition; only I must forget that there lie dormant
within me so many other qualities which moulder uselessly, and which
I am obliged to keep carefully concealed. Ah! this thought affects my
spirits fearfully. And yet to be misunderstood is the fate of the like
of us.
Alas, that the friend of my youth is gone! Alas, that I ever knew her! I
might say to myself, "You are a dreamer to seek what is not to be found
here below." But she has been mine. I have possessed that heart, that
noble soul, in whose presence I seemed to be more than I really was,
because I was all that I could be. Good heavens! did then a single power
of my soul remain unexercised? In her presence could I not display, to
its full extent, that mysterious feeling with which my heart embraces
nature? Was not our intercourse a perpetual web of the finest emotions,
of the keenest wit, the varieties of which, even in their very
eccentricity, bore the stamp of genius? Alas! the few years by which she
was my senior brought her to the grave before me. Never can I forget her
firm mind or her heavenly patience.
A few days ago I met a certain young V—, a frank, open fellow, with
a most pleasing countenance. He has just left the university, does not
deem himself overwise, but believes he knows more than other people.
He has worked hard, as I can perceive from many circumstances, and, in
short, possesses a large stock of information. When he heard that I am
drawing a good deal, and that I know Greek (two wonderful things for
this part of the country), he came to see me, and displayed his whole
store of learning, from Batteaux to Wood, from De Piles to Winkelmann:
he assured me he had read through the first part of Sultzer's theory,
and also possessed a manuscript of Heyne's work on the study of the
antique. I allowed it all to pass.
I have become acquainted, also, with a very worthy person, the district
judge, a frank and open-hearted man. I am told it is a most delightful
thing to see him in the midst of his children, of whom he has nine. His
eldest daughter especially is highly spoken of. He has invited me to go
and see him, and I intend to do so on the first opportunity. He lives
at one of the royal hunting-lodges, which can be reached from here in an
hour and a half by walking, and which he obtained leave to inhabit after
the loss of his wife, as it is so painful to him to reside in town and
at the court.
There have also come in my way a few other originals of a questionable
sort, who are in all respects undesirable, and most intolerable in their
demonstration of friendship. Good-bye. This letter will please you: it
is quite historical.