again till Christmas Eve. O Charlotte ， today or never ！ On ChristmasEve you will hold this paper in your hand ； you will tremble ， and moistenit with your tears. I will—— I must ！ Oh ， how happy I feel to bedetermined！"　　In the meantime ， Charlotte was in a pitiable state of mind. Afterher last conversation with Werther， she found how painful to herselfit would be to decline his visits ， and knew how severely he would sufferfrom their separation.　　She had ， in conversation with Albert， mentioned casually that Wertherwould not return before Christmas Eve ； and soon afterward Albert wenton horseback to see a person in the neighbourhood ， with whom he hadto transact some business which would detain him all night.　　Charlotte was sitting alone. None of her family were near ， and shegave herself up to the reflections that silently took possession of hermind. She was for ever united to a husband whose love and fidelity shehad proved， to whom she was heartily devoted ， and who seemed to bea special gift from Heaven to ensure her happiness. On the other hand ，Werther had become dear to her. There was a cordial unanimity of sentimentbetween them from the very first hour of their acquaintance ， and theirlong association and repeated interviews had made an indelible impressionupon her heart. She had been accustomed to communicate to him every thoughtand feeling which interested her， and his absence threatened to opena void in her existence which it might be impossible to fill. How heartilyshe wished that she might change him into her brother ，—— that shecould induce him to marry one of her own friends， or could reestablishhis intimacy with Albert.　　She passed all her intimate friends in review before her mind ， butfound something objectionable in each ， and could decide upon none towhom she would consent to give him.　　Amid all these considerations she felt deeply but indistinctly thather own real but unexpressed wish was to retain him for herself ， andher pure and amiable heart felt from this thought a sense of oppressionwhich seemed to forbid a prospect of happiness. She was wretched： a darkcloud obscured her mental vision.　　It was now half-past six o'clock， and she heard Werther's step onthe stairs. She at once recognised his voice， as he inquired if she wereat home. Her heart beat audibly —— we could almost say for the firsttime—— at his arrival. It was too late to deny herself； and， as heentered ， she exclaimed， with a sort of ill concealed confusion ， "Youhave not kept your word ！" "I promised nothing ，" he answered. "Butyou should have complied， at least for my sake ，" she continued. " Iimplore you ， for both our sakes."　　She scarcely knew what she said or did； and sent for some friends，who ， by their presence， might prevent her being left alone with Werther.He put down some books he had brought with him， then made inquiries aboutsome others ， until she began to hope that her friends might arrive shortly，entertaining at the same time a desire that they might stay away.　　At one moment she felt anxious that the servant should remain in theadjoining room， then she changed her mind. Werther ， meanwhile， walkedimpatiently up and down. She went to the piano， and determined not toretire. She then collected her thoughts ， and sat down quietly at Werther'sside， who had taken his usual place on the sofa.　　"Have you brought nothing to read ？" she inquired. He had nothing."There in my drawer ，" she continued ， "you will find your own translationof some of the songs of Ossian. I have not yet read them， as I have stillhoped to hear you recite them ； but， for some time past ， I have notbeen able to accomplish such a wish." He smiled ， and went for the manuscript，which he took with a shudder. He sat down ； and， with eyes full of tears，he began to read.　　"Star of descending night ！ fair is thy light in the west！ thouliftest thy unshorn head from thy cloud ； thy steps are stately on thyhill. What dost thou behold in the plain？ The stormy winds are laid.The murmur of the torrent comes from afar. Roaring waves climb the distantrock. The flies of evening are on their feeble wings： the hum of theircourse is on the field. What dost thou behold ， fair light ？ But thoudost smile and depart. The waves come with joy around thee： they bathethy lovely hair. Farewell ， thou silent beam ！ Let the light of Ossian'ssoul arise！　　"And it does arise in its strength！ I behold my departed friends.Their gathering is on Lora， as in the days of other years. Fingal comeslike a watery column of mist！ his heroes are around： and see the bardsof song ， gray-haired Ullin！ stately Ryno ！ Alpin with the tunefulvoice ： the soft complaint of Minona ！ How are ye changed ， my friends，since the days of Selma's feast ！ when we contended， like gales of springas they fly along the hill， and bend by turns the feebly whistling grass.　　"Minona came forth in her beauty， with downcast look and tearfuleye. Her hair was flying slowly with the blast that rushed unfrequentfrom the hill. The souls of the heroes were sad when she raised the tunefulvoice. Oft had they seen the grave of Salgar， the dark dwelling of white-bosomedColma. Colma left alone on the hill with all her voice of song！ Salgarpromised to come！ but the night descended around. Hear the voice of Colma，when she sat alone on the hill！　　"Colma. It is night ： I am alone ， forlorn on the hill of storms.The wind is heard on the mountain. The torrent is howling down the rock.No hut receives me from the rain： forlorn on the hill of winds ！　　"Rise moon！ from behind thy clouds. Stars of the night ， arise！Lead me ， some light ， to the place where my love rests from the chasealone ！ His bow near him unstrung， his dogs panting around him！ Buthere I must sit alone by the rock of the mossy stream. The stream andthe wind roar aloud. I hear not the voice of my love！ Why delays my Salgar； why the chief of the hill his promise？ Here is the rock and here thetree！ here is the roaring stream ！ Thou didst promise with night tobe here. Ah ！ whither is my Salgar gone？ With thee I would fly frommy father ， with thee from my brother of pride. Our race have long beenfoes： we are not foes， O Salgar ！　　"Cease a little while ， O wind ！ stream ， be thou silent awhile！let my voice be heard around！ let my wanderer hear me！ Salgar ！ itis Colma who calls. Here is the tree and the rock. Salgar ， my love，I am here ！ Why delayest thou thy coming ？ Lo ！ the calm moon comesforth. The flood is bright in the vale. The rocks are gray on the steep.I see him not on the brow. His dogs come not before him with tidings ofhis near approach. Here I must sit alone！　　"Who lie on the heath beside me ？ Are they my love and my brother？Speak to me ， O my friends ！ To Colma they give no reply. Speak to me： I am alone ！ My soul is tormented with fears. Ah， they are dead！Their swords are red from the fight. O my brother ！ my brother ！ whyhast thou slain my Salgar ！ Why， O Salgar ， hast thou slain my brother！Dear were ye both to me ！ what shall I say in your praise？ Thou wertfair on the hill among thousands！ he was terrible in fight ！ Speak tome！ hear my voice！ hear me， sons of my love！ They are silent！ silentfor ever！ Cold ， cold ， are their breasts of clay！ Oh ， from therock on the hill， from the top of the windy steep， speak， ye ghostsof the dead ！ Speak， I will not be afraid ！ Whither are ye gone torest？ In what cave of the hill shall I find the departed ？ No feeblevoice is on the gale： no answer half drowned in the storm！　　"I sit in my grief： I wait for morning in my tears ！ Rear the tomb，ye friends of the dead. Close it not till Colma come. My life flies awaylike a dream. Why should I stay behind？ Here shall I rest with my friends，by the stream of the sounding rock. When night comes on the hill whenthe loud winds arise my ghost shall stand in the blast， and mourn thedeath of my friends. The hunter shall hear from his booth ； he shallfear， but love my voice！ For sweet shall my voice be for my friends： pleasant were her friends to Colma.　　"Such was thy song， Minona ， softly blushing daughter of Torman.Our tears descended for Colma ， and our souls were sad ！ Ullin camewith his harp ； he gave the song of Alpin. The voice of Alpin was pleasant，the soul of Ryno was a beam of fire ！ But they had rested in the narrowhouse ： their voice had ceased in Selma！ Ullin had returned one dayfrom the chase before the heroes fell. He heard their strife on the hill： their song was soft， but sad！ They mourned the fall of Morar ， firstof mortal men ！ His soul was like the soul of Fingal ： his sword likethe sword of Oscar. But he fell ， and his father mourned ： his sister'seyes were full of tears. Minona's eyes were full of tears ， the sisterof car-borne Morar. She retired from the song of Ullin， like the moonin the west ， when she foresees the shower ， and hides her fair headin a cloud. I touched the harp with Ullin ： the song of morning rose ！　　"Ryno. The wind and the rain are past ， calm is the noon of day.The clouds are divided in heaven. Over the green hills flies the inconstantsun. Red through the stony vale comes down the stream of the hill. Sweetare thy murmurs ， O stream ！ but more sweet is the voice I hear. Itis the voice of Alpin ， the son of song， mourning for the dead！ Bentis his head of age： red his tearful eye. Alpin ， thou son of song ，why alone on the silent hill？ why complainest thou ， as a blast in thewood as a wave on the lonely shore？　　"Alpin. My tears， O Ryno ！ are for the dead my voice for those thathave passed away. Tall thou art on the hill ； fair among the sons ofthe vale. But thou shalt fall like Morar： the mourner shall sit on thytomb. The hills shall know thee no more ： thy bow shall lie in thy hallunstrung！　　"Thou wert swift， O Morar！ as a roe on the desert ： terrible asa meteor of fire. Thy wrath was as the storm. Thy sword in battle as lightningin the field. Thy voice was as a stream after rain， like thunder on distanthills. Many fell by thy arm ： they were consumed in the flames of thywrath. But when thou didst return from war， how peaceful was thy brow.Thy face was like the sun after rain： like the moon in the silence ofnight ： calm as the breast of the lake when the loud wind is laid.　　"Narrow is thy dwelling now ！ dark the place of thine abode！ Withthree steps I compass thy grave ， O thou who wast so great before！ Fourstones， with their heads of moss ， are the only memorial of thee. Atree with scarce a leaf ， long grass which whistles in the wind， markto the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar. Morar！ thou art lowindeed. Thou hast no mother to mourn thee ， no maid with her tears oflove. Dead is she that brought thee forth. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan.　　"Who on his staff is this ？ Who is this whose head is white withage ， whose eyes are red with tears， who quakes at every step ？ Itis thy father ， O Morar！ the father of no son but thee. He heard ofthy fame in war ， he heard of foes dispersed. He heard of Morar's renown，why did he not hear of his wound？ Weep ， thou father of Morar ！ Weep，but thy son heareth thee not. Deep is the sleep of the dead ， low theirpillow of dust. No more shall he hear thy voice ， no more awake at thycall. When shall it be morn in the grave， to bid the slumberer awake ？Farewell， thou bravest of men！ thou conqueror in the field！ but thefield shall see thee no more， nor the dark wood be lightened with thesplendour of thy steel. Thou has left no son. The song shall preservethy name. Future times shall hear of thee they shall hear of the fallenMorar ！　　"The grief of all arose ， but most the bursting sigh of Armin. Heremembers the death of his son， who fell in the days of his youth. Carmorwas near the hero ， the chief of the echoing Galmal. Why burst the sighof Armin？ he said. Is there a cause to mourn ？ The song comes with itsmusic to melt and please the soul. It is like soft mist that， risingfrom a lake ， pours on the silent vale ； the green flowers are filledwith dew， but the sun returns in his strength， and the mist is gone.Why art thou sad， O Armin， chief of sea-surrounded Gorma？　　"Sad I am ！ nor small is my cause of woe ！ Carmor ， thou hast lostno son； thou hast lost no daughter of beauty. Colgar the valiant lives，and Annira， fairest maid. The boughs of thy house ascend ， O Carmor ！but Armin is the last of his race. Dark is thy bed， O Daura！ deep thysleep in the tomb ！ When shalt thou wake with thy songs？ with all thyvoice of music？　　"Arise， winds of autumn， arise： blow along the heath. Streams ofthe mountains ， roar ； roar ， tempests in the groves of my oaks！ Walkthrough broken clouds ， O moon ！ show thy pale face at intervals； bringto my mind the night when all my children fell， when Arindal the mightyfell—— when Daura the lovely failed. Daura， my daughter， thou wertfair， fair as the moon on Fura ， white as the driven snow ， sweet asthe breathing gale. Arindal ， thy bow was strong ， thy spear was swifton the field， thy look was like mist on the wave ， thy shield a redcloud in a storm！ Armar， renowned in war， came and sought Daura's love.He was not long refused ： fair was the hope of their friends.　　"Erath， son of Odgal ， repined： his brother had been slain by Armar.He came disguised like a son of the sea ： fair was his cliff on the wave，white his locks of age， calm his serious brow. Fairest of women， hesaid， lovely daughter of Armin ！ a rock not distant in the sea bearsa tree on its side； red shines the fruit afar. There Armar waits forDaura. I come to carry his love ！ she went she called on Armar. Noughtanswered， but the son of the rock. Armar ， my love， my love！ why tormentestthou me with fear ？ Hear ， son of Arnart， hear ！ it is Daura who calleththee. Erath ， the traitor， fled laughing to the land. She lifted upher voice —— she called for her brother and her father. Arindal ！ Armin！none to relieve you ， Daura.　　"Her voice came over the sea. Arindal ， my son ， descended fromthe hill， rough in the spoils of the chase. His arrows rattled by hisside； his bow was in his hand， five dark-gray dogs attended his steps.He saw fierce Erath on the shore； he seized and bound him to an oak.Thick wind the thongs of the hide around his limbs； he loads the windswith his groans. Arindal ascends the deep in his boat to bring Daura toland. Armar came in his wrath ， and let fly the gray-feathered shaft.It sung ， it sunk in thy heart ， O Arindal， my son ！ for Erath thetraitor thou diest. The oar is stopped at once： he panted on the rock，and expired. What is thy grief， O Daura， when round thy feet is pouredthy brother's blood. The boat is broken in twain. Armar plunges into thesea to rescue his Daura ， or die. Sudden a blast from a hill came overthe waves ； he sank， and he rose no more.　　"Alone， on the sea-beat rock ， my daughter was heard to complain； frequent and loud were her cries. What could her father do ？ All nightI stood on the shore： I saw her by the faint beam of the moon. All nightI heard her cries. Loud was the wind； the rain beat hard on the hill.Before morning appeared ， her voice was weak ； it died away like theevening breeze among the grass of the rocks. Spent with grief ， she expired，and left thee ， Armin， alone. Gone is my strength in war， fallen mypride among women. When the storms aloft arise， when the north liftsthe wave on high， I sit by the sounding shore， and look on the fatalrock.　　"Often by the setting moon I see the ghosts of my children； halfviewless they walk in mournful conference together."　　A torrent of tears which streamed from Charlotte's eyes and gave reliefto her bursting heart ， stopped Werther's recitation. He threw down thebook， seized her hand， and wept bitterly. Charlotte leaned upon herhand， and buried her face in her handkerchief： the agitation of bothwas excessive. They felt that their own fate was pictured in the misfortunesof Ossian's heroes， they felt this together， and their tears redoubled.Werther supported his forehead on Charlotte's arm ： she trembled ， shewished to be gone ； but sorrow and sympathy lay like a leaden weightupon her soul. She recovered herself shortly， and begged Werther ， withbroken sobs ， to leave her ， implored him with the utmost earnestnessto comply with her request. He trembled ； his heart was ready to burst： then ， taking up the book again ， he recommenced reading ， in avoice broken by sobs. "Why dost thou waken me ， O spring ？ Thy voicewoos me ， exclaiming ， I refresh thee with heavenly dews； but the timeof my decay is approaching， the storm is nigh that shall whither my leaves.Tomorrow the traveller shall come ， he shall come， who beheld me inbeauty： his eye shall seek me in the field around， but he shall notfind me."　　The whole force of these words fell upon the unfortunate Werther.Full of despair ， he threw himself at Charlotte's feet ， seized herhands ， and pressed them to his eyes and to his forehead. An apprehensionof his fatal project now struck her for the first time. Her senses werebewildered： she held his hands ， pressed them to her bosom； and， leaningtoward him with emotions of the tenderest pity， her warm cheek touchedhis. They lost sight of everything. The world disappeared from their eyes.He clasped her in his arms， strained her to his bosom， and covered hertrembling lips with passionate kisses. "Werther ！" she cried with a faintvoice ， turning herself away ； "Werther ！" and ， with a feeble hand，she pushed him from her. At length， with the firm voice of virtue， sheexclaimed ， "Werther ！" He resisted not ， but， tearing himself fromher arms， fell on his knees before her. Charlotte rose ， and， withdisordered grief， in mingled tones of love and resentment， she exclaimed，"It is the last time， Werther！ You shall never see me any more！" Then，casting one last， tender look upon her unfortunate lover ， she rushedinto the adjoining room ， and locked the door. Werther held out his arms，but did not dare to detain her. He continued on the ground， with hishead resting on the sofa， for half an hour ， till he heard a noise whichbrought him to his senses. The servant entered. He then walked up anddown the room ； and， when he was again left alone ， he went to Charlotte'sdoor， and， in a low voice ， said ， "Charlotte ， Charlotte！ but oneword more ， one last adieu ！" She returned no answer. He stopped， andlistened and entreated； but all was silent. At length he tore himselffrom the place， crying ， "Adieu ， Charlotte， adieu for ever ！"　　Werther ran to the gate of the town. The guards ， who knew him ，let him pass in silence. The night was dark and stormy，—— it rainedand snowed. He reached his own door about eleven. His servant ， althoughseeing him enter the house without his hat， did not venture to say anything； and； as he undressed his master ， he found that his clothes werewet. His hat was afterward found on the point of a rock overhanging thevalley； and it is inconceivable how he could have climbed to the summiton such a dark， tempestuous night without losing his life.　　He retired to bed ， and slept to a late hour. The next morning hisservant ， upon being called to bring his coffee， found him writing.He was adding ， to Charlotte ， what we here annex.　　"For the last ， last time I open these eyes. Alas！ they will beholdthe sun no more. It is covered by a thick ， impenetrable cloud. Yes，Nature！ put on mourning： your child ， your friend， your lover ， drawsnear his end！ This thought ， Charlotte， is without parallel； and yetit seems like a mysterious dream when I repeat—— this is my last day！The last！ Charlotte， no word can adequately express this thought. Thelast！ To-day I stand erect in all my strength to-morrow， cold and stark，I shall lie extended upon the ground. To die！ what is death？ We do butdream in our discourse upon it. I have seen many human beings die ； but，so straitened is our feeble nature， we have no clear conception of thebeginning or the end of our existence. At this moment I am my own ——or rather I am thine， thine， my adored！ and the next we are parted ，severed —— perhaps for ever ！ No ， Charlotte， no ！ How can I， howcan you ， be annihilated ？ We exist. What is annihilation ？ A mereword， an unmeaning sound that fixes no impression on the mind. Dead，Charlotte ！ laid in the cold earth ， in the dark and narrow grave ！I had a friend once who was everything to me in early youth. She died.I followed her hearse ； I stood by her grave when the coffin was lowered； and when I heard the creaking of the cords as they were loosened anddrawn up， when the first shovelful of earth was thrown in， and the coffinreturned a hollow sound ， which grew fainter and fainter till all wascompletely covered over ， I threw myself on the ground ； my heart wassmitten ， grieved， shattered， rent —— but I neither knew what hadhappened， nor what was to happen to me. Death！ the grave！ I understandnot the words.—— Forgive， oh ， forgive me ！ Yesterday—— ah ， thatday should have been the last of my life！ Thou angel ！ for the firsttime in my existence， I felt rapture glow within my inmost soul. Sheloves ， she loves me ！ Still burns upon my lips the sacred fire theyreceived from thine. New torrents of delight overwhelm my soul. Forgiveme， oh ， forgive！　　"I knew that I was dear to you； I saw it in your first entrancinglook， knew it by the first pressure of your hand ； but when I was absentfrom you， when I saw Albert at your side ， my doubts and fears returned.　　"Do you remember the flowers you sent me， when ， at that crowdedassembly， you could neither speak nor extend your hand to me ？ Halfthe night I was on my knees before those flowers， and I regarded themas the pledges of your love ； but those impressions grew fainter ， andwere at length effaced.　　"Everything passes away ； but a whole eternity could not extinguishthe living flame which was yesterday kindled by your lips ， and whichnow burns within me. She loves me ！ These arms have encircled her waist，these lips have trembled upon hers. She is mine ！ Yes， Charlotte， youare mine for ever ！　　"And what do they mean by saying Albert is your husband ？ He maybe so for this world； and in this world it is a sin to love you， towish to tear you from his embrace. Yes， it is a crime； and I sufferthe punishment， but I have enjoyed the full delight of my sin. I haveinhaled a balm that has revived my soul. From this hour you are mine；yes ， Charlotte， you are mine ！ I go before you. I go to my Fatherand to your Father. I will pour out my sorrows before him ， and he willgive me comfort till you arrive. Then will I fly to meet you. I will claimyou ， and remain your eternal embrace， in the presence of the Almighty.　　"I do not dream ， I do not rave. Drawing nearer to the grave my perceptionsbecome clearer. We shall exist； we shall see each other again； we shallbehold your mother； I shall behold her ， and expose to her my inmostheart. Your mother—— your image ！"　　About eleven o'clock Werther asked his servant if Albert had returned.He answered ， "Yes ；" for he had seen him pass on horseback ： uponwhich Werther sent him the following note ， unsealed ：　　"Be so good as to lend me your pistols for a journey. Adieu."　　Charlotte had slept little during the past night. All her apprehensionswere realised in a way that she could neither foresee nor avoid. Her bloodwas boiling in her veins， and a thousand painful sensations rent herpure heart. Was it the ardour of Werther's passionate embraces that shefelt within her bosom ？ Was it anger at his daring ？ Was it the sadcomparison of her present condition with former days of innocence ， tranquillity，and self-confidence ？ How could she approach her husband ， and confess