O my friend—— but it is too much
  for my strength —— I sink under the weight of the splendour of these
  visions ！
  MAY 12. I know not whether some deceitful spirits haunt this spot ，
  or whether it be the warm ， celestial fancy in my own heart which makes
  everything around me seem like paradise. In front of the house is a fountain，
  —— a fountain to which I am bound by a charm like Melusina and her sisters.
  Descending a gentle slope ， you come to an arch， where， some twenty
  steps lower down， water of the clearest crystal gushes from the marble
  rock. The narrow wall which encloses it above ， the tall trees which
  encircle the spot ， and the coolness of the place itself ，—— everything
  imparts a pleasant but sublime impression. Not a day passes on which I
  do not spend an hour there. The young maidens come from the town to fetch
  water ，—— innocent and necessary employment， and formerly the occupation
  of the daughters of kings. As I take my rest there， the idea of the old
  patriarchal life is awakened around me. I see them， our old ancestors，
  how they formed their friendships and contracted alliances at the fountain-side
  ； and I feel how fountains and streams were guarded by beneficent spirits.
  He who is a stranger to these sensations has never really enjoyed cool
  repose at the side of a fountain after the fatigue of a weary summer day.
  MAY 13. You ask if you shall send me books. My dear friend， I beseech
  you ， for the love of God， relieve me from such a yoke！ I need no more
  to be guided， agitated ， heated. My heart ferments sufficiently of itself.
  I want strains to lull me ， and I find them to perfection in my Homer.
  Often do I strive to allay the burning fever of my blood； and you have
  never witnessed anything so unsteady， so uncertain ， as my heart. But
  need I confess this to you， my dear friend ， who have so often endured
  the anguish of witnessing my sudden transitions from sorrow to immoderate
  joy ， and from sweet melancholy to violent passions？ I treat my poor
  heart like a sick child ， and gratify its every fancy. Do not mention
  this again： there are people who would censure me for it.
  MAY 15. The common people of the place know me already， and love
  me， particularly the children. When at first I associated with them，
  and inquired in a friendly tone about their various trifles ， some fancied
  that I wished to ridicule them， and turned from me in exceeding ill-humour.
  I did not allow that circumstance to grieve me： I only felt most keenly
  what I have often before observed. Persons who can claim a certain rank
  keep themselves coldly aloof from the common people ， as though they
  feared to lose their importance by the contact； whilst wanton idlers ，
  and such as are prone to bad joking ， affect to descend to their level，
  only to make the poor people feel their impertinence all the more keenly.
  I know very well that we are not all equal， nor can be so； but it
  is my opinion that he who avoids the common people， in order not to lose
  their respect ， is as much to blame as a coward who hides himself from
  his enemy because he fears defeat.
  The other day I went to the fountain， and found a young servant-girl，
  who had set her pitcher on the lowest step， and looked around to see
  if one of her companions was approaching to place it on her head. I ran
  down， and looked at her. "Shall I help you ， pretty lass？" said I.
  She blushed deeply. "Oh ， sir！" she exclaimed. "No ceremony ！" I replied.
  She adjusted her head-gear， and I helped her. She thanked me ， and ascended
  the steps.
  MAY 17. I have made all sorts of acquaintances， but have as yet found
  no society. I know not what attraction I possess for the people ， so
  many of them like me， and attach themselves to me； and then I feel sorry
  when the road we pursue together goes only a short distance. If you inquire
  what the people are like here ， I must answer， "The same as everywhere."
  The human race is but a monotonous affair. Most of them labour the greater
  part of their time for mere subsistence ； and the scanty portion of freedom
  which remains to them so troubles them that they use every exertion to
  get rid of it. Oh ， the destiny of man ！