The Sorrows of Young Werther
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (translated by R.D. Boylan)

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May 26.

You know of old my ways of settling anywhere, of selecting a little cottage in some cosy spot, and of putting up in it with every inconvenience. Here, too, I have discovered such a snug, comfortable place, which possesses peculiar charms for me.

About a league from the town is a place called Walheim. (The reader need not take the trouble to look for the place thus designated. We have found it necessary to change the names given in the original.) It is delightfully situated on the side of a hill; and, by proceeding along one of the footpaths which lead out of the village, you can have a view of the whole valley. A good old woman lives there, who keeps a small inn. She sells wine, beer, and coffee, and is cheerful and pleasant notwithstanding her age. The chief charm of this spot consists in two linden-trees, spreading their enormous branches over the little green before the church, which is entirely surrounded by peasants’ cottages, barns, and homesteads. I have seldom seen a place so retired and peaceable; and there often have my table and chair brought out from the little inn, and drink my coffee there, and read my Homer. Accident brought me to the spot one fine afternoon, and I found it perfectly deserted. Everybody was in the fields except a little boy about four years of age, who was sitting on the ground, and held between his knees a child about six months old: he pressed it to his bosom with both arms, which thus formed a sort of arm-chair; and, notwithstanding the liveliness which sparkled in its black eyes, it remained perfectly still. The sight charmed me. I sat down upon a plough opposite, and sketched with great delight this little picture of brotherly tenderness. I added the neighbouring hedge, the barn-door, and some broken cart-wheels, just as they happened to lie; and I found in about an hour that I had made a very correct and interesting drawing, without putting in the slightest thing of my own. This confirmed me in my resolution of adhering, for the future, entirely to nature. She alone is inexhaustible, and capable of forming the greatest masters. Much may be alleged in favour of rules, as much may be likewise advanced in favour of the laws of society: an artist formed upon them will never produce anything absolutely bad or disgusting; as a man who observes the laws, and obeys decorum, can never be an absolutely intolerable neighbour, nor a decided villain: but yet, say what you will of rules, they destroy the genuine feeling of nature, as well as its true expression. Do not tell me “that this is too hard, that they only restrain and prune superfluous branches, etc.” My good friend, I will illustrate this by an analogy. These things resemble love. A warmhearted youth becomes strongly attached to a maiden: he spends every hour of the day in her company, wears out his health, and lavishes his fortune, to afford continual proof that he is wholly devoted to her. Then comes a man of the world, a man of place and respectability, and addresses him thus: “My good young friend, love is natural; but you must love within bounds. Divide your time: devote a portion to business, and give the hours of recreation to your mistress. Calculate your fortune; and out of the superfluity you may make her a present, only not too often, — on her birthday, and such occasions.” Pursuing this advice, he may become a useful member of society, and I should advise every prince to give him an appointment; but it is all up with his love, and with his genius if he be an artist. O my friend! why is it that the torrent of genius so seldom bursts forth, so seldom rolls in full-flowing stream, overwhelming your astounded soul? Because, on either side of this stream, cold and respectable persons have taken up their abodes, and, forsooth, their summer-houses and tulip-beds would suffer from the torrent; wherefore they dig trenches, and raise embankments betimes, in order to avert the impending danger.

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Book I  •  May 4. 1771  •  May 10.  •  May 12.  •  May 13.  •  May 15.  •  May 17.  •  May 22.  •  May 26.  •  May 27.  •  May 30.  •  June 16.  •  June 19.  •  June 21.  •  June 29.  •  July 1.  •  July 6.  •  July 8.  •  July lO.  •  July 11.  •  July 13.  •  July 16.  •  July 18.  •  July 19.  •  July 2O.  •  July 24.  •  July 25.  •  July 26.  •  July 30.  •  August 8.  •  August lO.  •  August 12.  •  August 15.  •  August 18.  •  August 21.  •  August 22.  •  August 28.  •  August 3O.  •  September 3.  •  September 1O.  •  BOOK II.  •  October 2O.  •  November 26.  •  December 24.  •  January 8, 1772.  •  January 20.  •  February 8.  •  February 17.  •  February 20.  •  March 15.  •  March 16.   •  March 24.  •  April l9.  •  May 5.  •  May 9.  •  May 25.  •  June 11.  •  July 16.  •  July 18.  •  July 29.  •  August 4.  •  August 21.  •  September 3.  •  September 4.  •  September 5.  •  September 6.  •  September 12.  •  September 15.  •  October 10.  •  October 12.  •  October 19.  •  October 26.  •  October 27.  •  October 30.  •  November 3.   •  November 8.  •  November 15.  •  November 21.  •  November 22  •  November 24.  •  November 26.  •  November 30.  •  December 1.  •  December 4.  •  December 6.  •  THE EDITOR TO THE READER.  •  December 12.  •  December 15.  •  December 2O.  •  Ryno  •  Alpin