Let that man die unconsoled who can deride (嘲笑) 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 (缓解) of misery, makes a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre. {1}
Each laborious (艰难的) step which galls (磨伤) his wounded feet in rough and untrodden (杳无人迹的) 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 (极度痛苦的) heart.
Will you dare call this enthusiasm, ye crowd of pompous (自大的) declaimers?
Enthusiasm! O God! thou seest my tears. Thou hast allotted us our portion of misery: must we also have brethren (同胞) to persecute (迫害) us, to deprive us of our consolation, of our trust in thee, and in thy love and mercy? {2}
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. {3}
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 (驱逐) such a child from thy presence?
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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!
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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 (半神)?
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?
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 (恐惧) or fear, but by an inexpressible internal sensation, which weighs upon my heart, and impedes (阻碍) 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 (小溪) had all overflowed their banks, and that the whole vale (山谷) 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 (着色) 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 (跳入)!'" 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.
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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 (乞丐), 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. {4}
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 (玷污) by a single sensual (肉欲的) desire? But I will make no protestations (异议).
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 (离开) 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 tranquility (宁静), 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 (模糊不清的) letter, which he addressed to his friend, may appear to afford some proof.
