nd? Man needs but little earth for enjoyment, and still less
for his final repose.

I am at present with the prince at his hunting lodge. He is a man with
whom one can live happily. He is honest and unaffected. There are,
however, some strange characters about him, whom I cannot at all
understand. They do not seem vicious, and yet they do not carry the
appearance of thoroughly honest men. Sometimes I am disposed to believe
them honest, and yet I cannot persuade myself to confide in them. It
grieves me to hear the prince occasionally talk of things which he has
only read or heard of, and always with the same view in which they have
been represented by others.

He values my understanding and talents more highly than my heart, but I
am proud of the latter only. It is the sole source of everything of our
strength, happiness, and misery. All the knowledge I possess every one
else can acquire, but my heart is exclusively my own.

MAY 25.

I have had a plan in my head of which I did not intend to speak to you
until it was accomplished: now that it has failed, I may as well mention
it. I wished to enter the army, and had long been desirous of taking
the step. This, indeed, was the chief reason for my coming here with the
prince, as he is a general in the service. I communicated my design to
him during one of our walks together. He disapproved of it, and it would
have been actual madness not to have listened to his reasons.

JUNE 11.

Say what you will, I can remain here no longer. Why should I remain?
Time hangs heavy upon my hands. The prince is as gracious to me as any
one could be, and yet I am not at my ease. There is, indeed, nothing
in common between us. He is a man of understanding, but quite of the
ordinary kind. His conversation affords me no more amusement than I
should derive from the perusal of a well-written book. I shall remain
here a week longer, and then start again on my travels. My drawings are
the best things I have done since I came here. The prince has a taste
for the arts, and would improve if his mind were not fettered by cold
rules and mere technical ideas. I often lose patience, when, with
a glowing imagination, I am giving expression to art and nature, he
interferes with learned suggestions, and uses at random the technical
phraseology of artists.

JULY 16.

Once more I am a wanderer, a pilgrim, through the world. But what else
are you!

JULY 18.

Whither am I going? I will tell you in co