Stupendous mountains encompassed
  me， abysses yawned at my feet， and cataracts fell headlong down before
  me； impetuous rivers rolled through the plain， and rocks and mountains
  resounded from afar. In the depths of the earth I saw innumerable powers
  in motion ， and multiplying to infinity； whilst upon its surface， and
  beneath the heavens ， there teemed ten thousand varieties of living creatures.
  Everything around is alive with an infinite number of forms ； while mankind
  fly for security to their petty houses， from the shelter of which they
  rule in their imaginations over the wide-extended universe. Poor fool ！
  in whose petty estimation all things are little. From the inaccessible
  mountains ， across the desert which no mortal foot has trod， far as
  the confines of the unknown ocean ， breathes the spirit of the eternal
  Creator ； and every atom to which he has given existence finds favour
  in his sight. Ah， how often at that time has the flight of a bird， soaring
  above my head ， inspired me with the desire of being transported to the
  shores of the immeasurable waters ， there to quaff the pleasures of life
  from the foaming goblet of the Infinite ， and to partake ， if but for
  a moment even ， with the confined powers of my soul， the beatitude of
  that Creator who accomplishes all things in himself ， and through himself！
  My dear friend， the bare recollection of those hours still consoles
  me. Even this effort to recall those ineffable sensations ， and give
  them utterance， exalts my soul above itself， and makes me doubly feel
  the intensity of my present anguish.
  It is as if a curtain had been drawn from before my eyes， and， instead
  of prospects of eternal life， the abyss of an ever open grave yawned
  before me. Can we say of anything that it exists when all passes away ，
  when time ， with the speed of a storm， carries all things onward，—
  — and our transitory existence ， hurried along by the torrent ， is
  either swallowed up by the waves or dashed against the rocks？ There is
  not a moment but preys upon you ，—— and upon all around you， not a
  moment in which you do not yourself become a destroyer. The most innocent
  walk deprives of life thousands of poor insects ： one step destroys the
  fabric of the industrious ant ， and converts a little world into chaos.
  No： it is not the great and rare calamities of the world ， the floods
  which sweep away whole villages ， the earthquakes which swallow up our
  towns ， that affect me. My heart is wasted by the thought of that destructive
  power which lies concealed in every part of universal nature. Nature has
  formed nothing that does not consume itself ， and every object near it
  ： so that， surrounded by earth and air， and all the active powers，
  I wander on my way with aching heart； and the universe is to me a fearful
  monster ， for ever devouring its own offspring.
  AUGUST 21. In vain do I stretch out my arms toward her when I awaken
  in the morning from my weary slumbers. In vain do I seek for her at night
  in my bed ， when some innocent dream has happily deceived me ， and placed
  her near me in the fields ， when I have seized her hand and covered it
  with countless kisses. And when I feel for her in the half confusion of
  sleep ， with the happy sense that she is near， tears flow from my oppressed
  heart ； and， bereft of all comfort， I weep over my future woes.
  AUGUST 22. What a misfortune， Wilhelm！ My active spirits have degenerated
  into contented indolence. I cannot be idle， and yet I am unable to set
  to work. I cannot think ： I have no longer any feeling for the beauties
  of nature ， and books are distasteful to me. Once we give ourselves up，
  we are totally lost. Many a time and oft I wish I were a common labourer
  ； that ， awakening in the morning ， I might have but one prospect，
  one pursuit ， one hope ， for the day which has dawned. I often envy
  Albert when I see him buried in a heap of papers and parchments ， and
  I fancy I should be happy were I in his place. Often impressed with this
  feeling I have been on the point of writing to you and to the minister，
  for the appointment at the embassy， which you think I might obtain. I
  believe I might procure it. The minister has long shown a regard for me，
  and has frequently urged me to seek employment. It is the business of
  an hour only. Now and then the fable of the horse recurs to me. Weary
  of liberty， he suffered himself to be saddled and bridled， and was ridden
  to death for his pains. I know not what to determine upon. For is not
  this anxiety for change the consequence of that restless spirit which
  would pursue me equally in every situation of life？