The Sorrows ofYoung Werther
WE ARRIVED HERE YESTERDAY. The ambassador is indisposed, and will not go out for some days. If he were less peevish and morose, all would be well. I see but too plainly that Heaven has destined me to severe trials; but courage! a light heart may bear anything. A light heart! I smile to find such a word pro- ceeding from my pen. A little more lightheartedness would render me the happiest being under the sun. But must I de- spair of my talents and faculties, whilst others of far inferior abilities parade before me with the utmost self-satisfaction? Gracious Providence, to whom I owe all my powers, why didst thou not withhold some of those blessings I possess, and substitute in their place a feeling of self-confidence and contentment?
But patience! all will yet be well; for I assure you, my dear
friend, you were right: since I have been obliged to associate continually with other people, and observe what they do, and how they employ themselves, I have become far better satis-
fied with myself. For we are so constituted by nature, that we are ever prone to compare ourselves with others; and our hap- piness or misery depends very much on the objects and per- sons around us. On this account, nothing is more dangerous than solitude: there our imagination, always disposed to rise, taking a new flight on the wings of fancy, pictures to us a chain of beings of whom we seem the most inferior. All things appear greater than they really are, and all seem superior to us. This operation of the mind is quite natural: we so continu- ally feel our own imperfections, and fancy we perceive in oth- ers the qualities we do not possess, attributing to them also all that we enjoy ourselves, that by this process we form the idea of a perfect, happy man, —a man, however, who only exists in our own imagination.
But when, in spite of weakness and disappointments, we
set to work in earnest, and persevere steadily, we often find, that, though obliged continually to tack, we make more way than others who have the assistance of wind and tide; and, in truth, there can be no greater satisfaction than to keep pace with others or outstrip them in the race.