November 26.

Oftentimes I say to myself, “Thou alone art wretched:  all other mortals are happy, none are distressed like thee!” Then I read a passage in an ancient poet, and I seem to understand my own heart.  I have so much to endure!  Have men before me ever been so wretched?

November 30.

I shall never be myself again!  Wherever I go, some fatality occurs to distract me.  Even to-day alas —­ for our destiny! alas for human nature!

About dinner-time I went to walk by the river-side, for I had no appetite.  Everything around seemed gloomy:  a cold and damp easterly wind blew from the mountains, and black, heavy clouds spread over the plain.  I observed at a distance a man in a tattered coat:  he was wandering among the rocks, and seemed to be looking for plants.  When I approached, he turned round at the noise; and I saw that he had an interesting countenance in which a settled melancholy, strongly marked by benevolence, formed the principal feature.  His long black hair was divided, and flowed over his shoulders.  As his garb betokened a person of the lower order, I thought he would not take it ill if I inquired about his business; and I therefore asked what he was seeking.  He replied, with a deep sigh, that he was looking for flowers, and could find none.  “But it is not the season,” I observed, with a smile.  “Oh, there are so many flowers!” he answered, as he came nearer to me.  “In my garden there are roses and honeysuckles of two sorts:  one sort was given to me by my father! they grow as plentifully as weeds; I have been looking for them these two days, and cannot find them.  There are flowers out there, yellow, blue, and red; and that centaury has a very pretty blossom:  but I can find none of them.”  I observed his peculiarity, and therefore asked him, with an air of indifference, what he intended to do with his flowers.  A strange smile overspread his countenance.  Holding his finger to his mouth, he expressed a hope that I would not betray him; and he then informed me that he had promised to gather a nosegay for his mistress.  “That is right,” said I.  “Oh!” he replied, “she possesses many other things as well:  she is very rich.”  “And yet,” I continued, “she likes your nosegays.”  “Oh, she has jewels and crowns!” he exclaimed.  I asked who she was.  “If the states-general would but pay me,” he added, “I should be quite another man.  Alas! there was a time when I was so happy; but that is past, and I am now—­” He raised his swimming eyes to heaven.  “And you were happy once?” I observed.  “Ah, would I were so still!” was his reply.  “I was then as gay and contented as a man can be.”  An old woman, who was coming toward us, now called out, “Henry, Henry! where are you?  We have been looking for you everywhere:  come to dinner.”  “Is he your son?” I inquired, as I went toward her.  “Yes,” she said:  “he is my poor, unfortunate son.  The Lord has sent me a heavy affliction.”