we are enabled, by our
knowledge of her character, to understand their nature.

It is certain that she had formed a determination, by every means in
her power to keep Werther at a distance; and, if she hesitated in her
decision, it was from a sincere feeling of friendly pity, knowing how
much it would cost him, indeed, that he would find it almost impossible
to comply with her wishes. But various causes now urged her to be firm.
Her husband preserved a strict silence about the whole matter; and she
never made it a subject of conversation, feeling bound to prove to him
by her conduct that her sentiments agreed with his.

The same day, which was the Sunday before Christmas, after Werther had
written the last-mentioned letter to his friend, he came in the evening
to Charlotte's house, and found her alone. She was busy preparing some
little gifts for her brothers and sisters, which were to be distributed
to them on Christmas Day. He began talking of the delight of
the children, and of that age when the sudden appearance of the
Christmas-tree, decorated with fruit and sweetmeats, and lighted up with
wax candles, causes such transports of joy. "You shall have a gift too,
if you behave well," said Charlotte, hiding her embarrassment under
sweet smile. "And what do you call behaving well? What should I do, what
can I do, my dear Charlotte?" said he. "Thursday night," she answered,
"is Christmas Eve. The children are all to be here, and my father too:
there is a present for each; do you come likewise, but do not come
before that time." Werther started. "I desire you will not: it must be
so," she continued. "I ask it of you as a favour, for my own peace and
tranquillity. We cannot go on in this manner any longer." He turned away
his face walked hastily up and down the room, muttering indistinctly,
"We cannot go on in this manner any longer!" Charlotte, seeing the
violent agitation into which these words had thrown him, endeavoured
to divert his thoughts by different questions, but in vain. "No,
Charlotte!" he exclaimed; "I will never see you any more!" "And why so?"
she answered. "We may--we must see each other again; only let it be
with more discretion. Oh! why were you born with that excessive, that
ungovernable passion for everything that is dear to you?" Then, taking
his hand, she said, "I entreat of you to be more calm: your talents,
your understanding, your genius, will furnish you with a thousand
resources. Be a man, and