ur,
or any other phantom, is no better than a fool.

JULY 24.

You insist so much on my not neglecting my drawing, that it would be as
well for me to say nothing as to confess how little I have lately done.

I never felt happier, I never understood nature better, even down to the
veriest stem or smallest blade of grass; and yet I am unable to express
myself: my powers of execution are so weak, everything seems to swim
and float before me, so that I cannot make a clear, bold outline. But
I fancy I should succeed better if I had some clay or wax to model. I
shall try, if this state of mind continues much longer, and will take to
modelling, if I only knead dough.

I have commenced Charlotte's portrait three times, and have as often
disgraced myself. This is the more annoying, as I was formerly very
happy in taking likenesses. I have since sketched her profile, and must
content myself with that.

JULY 25.

Yes, dear Charlotte! I will order and arrange everything. Only give
me more commissions, the more the better. One thing, however, I must
request: use no more writing-sand with the dear notes you send me. Today
I raised your letter hastily to my lips, and it set my teeth on edge.

JULY 26.

I have often determined not to see her so frequently. But who could keep
such a resolution? Every day I am exposed to the temptation, and promise
faithfully that to-morrow I will really stay away: but, when tomorrow
comes, I find some irresistible reason for seeing her; and, before I can
account for it, I am with her again. Either she has said on the previous
evening "You will be sure to call to-morrow,"--and who could stay away
then?--or she gives me some commission, and I find it essential to take
her the answer in person; or the day is fine, and I walk to Walheim;
and, when I am there, it is only half a league farther to her. I am
within the charmed atmosphere, and soon find myself at her side. My
grandmother used to tell us a story of a mountain of loadstone. When any
vessels came near it, they were instantly deprived of their ironwork:
the nails flew to the mountain, and the unhappy crew perished amidst the
disjointed planks.

JULY 30.

Albert is arrived, and I must take my departure. Were he the best and
noblest of men, and I in every respect his inferior, I could not endure
to see him in possession of such a perfect being. Possession!--enough,
Wilhelm: her betrothed is here,--a fine, worthy fellow, whom one cannot
h