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.