enough to meet my very small regular expenses till my departure. I seldom come into difficulties when I have no money, I believe Providence watches over me. I have examples of this which I might term singular, did I not recognise in them the hand of Providence, which condescends even to our meanest wants.

"Upon the whole, gold appears to me a very insignicant commodity. I believe that a man with any intellect may always provide for his wants; and for more than this, gold is useless;-hence I have always despised it. Unhappily it is here bound up with a part of the respect which our fellow-men entertain for us, and this has never been a matter of indifference to me. Perhaps I may by and by free myself from this weakness also: it does not contribute to our peace.

"On account of this contempt of money, I have, for four years, never accepted a farthing from my parents, because I have seven sisters, who are all young and in part uneducated, and because I have a father who, were I to allow it, would in his kindness bestow upon me that which belongs of right to his other children. I have not accepted even presents from them upon any pretence; and since then, I have maintained myself very well, and stand more à mon aise than before towards my parents, and particularly towards my too kind father.

“However, I promise you-(how happy do I feel, dear, noble friend, to be permitted to speak thus with you!)-I promise you, that if I should fall into any pecuniary embarrassments (as there is no likelihood that I shall, with my present mode of thinking and my attendant fortune), you shall be the first person

to whom I shall apply-to whom I shall have applied since the time I declined assistance from my parents. It is worthy of your kind heart to receive this promise, and it is not unworthy of me to give it."

"Could anything indemnify me for the loss of some hours of your society, I should be indemnified. I have received the most touching proofs of the attachment of the good old widow, whom I have seen only for the third time, and of her gratitude for a few courtesies which were to me nothing,—absolutely nothing,- had they not cost me two days' absence from you. She wept when I took my leave, though I allowed her to expect that she would see me again before my departure. I desire to lay aside all vanities: with some, the desire for literary fame, &c., I have in a certain degree succeeded; but the desire to be belovedbeloved by simple true hearts-is no vanity, and I will not lay it aside.

"What a wholly new, joyful, bright existence I have had since I became sure of being yours!-how happy I am that so noble a soul bestows its sympathy upon me, and such sympathy!—this I can never express. Would that I could, that I might be able to thank you.

"My departure, dearest, draws near, and you have discovered the secret of making the day which formerly seemed to me a day of deliverance, the bitterest in my life. I shall not tell you whether the day is settled or not. If you do not absolutely command it, you shall not know of it. Leave-taking is bitter, very bitter, and even its announcement has always something painful in it.

But one of us-and I shall be that one-must

bear the consciousness that thenceforth (but only for a time, if God does not require the life of one of us) we see each other no more. Unless you absolutely require it, you shall not know when I am with you for the last time."

"Bern or Copenhagen, Lisbon, Madrid or St. Petersburg, are alike to me, so far as I myself am concerned. I believe that I am able to endure all climates tolerably well. The true cold of winter, such as we find in Saxony, is never very oppressive to me.

On this account I am not afraid of Copenhagen. But I would rather, dearest, be nearer thee. I am deeply moved by your tenderness; I think of you with the warmest gratitude. On this matter I feel with you, even although I cannot entirely think with you. Letters go to Copenhagen, for example, as securely as to Bern, and create as much pleasure there. Journeying is journeying, be it long or short, and it is already almost indifferent to me whether I shall travel ten or a hundred miles. So my understanding decides, and I cannot refute it, however willingly this deceitful heart would do so.

"On the whole, I think of it in this way:-the great end of my existence is to acquire every kind of education (not scientific education,-I find much vanity in that,—but education of character) — which fortune will permit me.

-

"Looking into the way of Providence in my life, I find that this is the plan of Providence itself with me. I have filled many situations, played many parts, known many men, and many conditions of men, and on the whole I find that by all these occurrences my charac

D

ter has become more fixed and decided. At my first entrance into the world, I wanted everything but a susceptible heart. Many qualities in which I was then deficient, I have since acquired; many I still want entirely, and among others that of occasionally accommodating myself to those around me, and bearing with false men, or men wholly opposed to my character, for the sake of accomplishing something great. Without these qualities, I can never employ the powers which Providence has bestowed upon me, as I could with them.

"Does Providence then intend to develope these capacities in me? Is it not possible that for this very purpose I may now be led upon a wider stage? May not my employment at a Court, my project of superintending the studies of a Prince, your father's plan of taking me to Copenhagen,-may not these be hints or ways of Providence towards this end? And shall I, by confining myself to a narrower sphere, one which is not even natural to me, seek to frustrate this plan? I have no talent for bending; for dealing with people who are opposed to me in character, can only succeed with brave, good people,-I am too open;-this seemed to you a reason why I was unfit to go to a Court; to me, on the contrary, it is a reason why I must go there, to have an opportunity of acquiring that wherein I am deficient.

"I know the business of the scholar; I have no new discoveries to make about it. I have very little fitness for being a scholar à métier; I must not only think, I must act least of all can I think about trifles; and hence it is not exactly my business to become a Swiss professor, that is, a schoolman.

"So stand my inclinations:-now for my duties. "May not Providence,-who must know better than I for what I am fit, and where I am wanted,—may not Providence have determined not to lead me into such a sphere? And may not the favour bestowed upon me by you, whose destiny seems to be bound up with my own, be a hint, and your proposal a way, of this Providence? May not my impulse towards the great world be a delusion of sense, of my innate restlessness, which Providence would now fix? This is as possible as the first; and therefore we must just do in this matter what depends upon us, and leave the rest to God's guidance.

"Now I think that the way which you propose cannot have the effect you expect from it. My essays cannot create what is called a 'sensation;' this is not in them nor in me. Many would not even understand their contents; those who did understand them, would, I believe, consider me as a useful man, but comme il y en a beaucoup. It is quite another thing when one takes an interest in the author, and knows him.

"If you should be able to excite such an interest among your relatives, then indeed something more might be expected. But the matter does not seem pressing. Before all things there must be a professorship vacant at Bern, and indeed such a one as I could undertake. Then it would be difficult, during my stay here, to make a copy of my essays. And perhaps I shall write something better afterwards, or I may hit upon some arrangement in Leipzic respecting these essays, which can easily be made known in Bern. At all events, you shall know, and every good man who takes any interest in me shall always know, where I