LETTER II.
May 10.
My mind is calm and serene, like the first fine mornings of
spring. Solitude and tranquillity, in a country so suited to a
disposition like mine, give me an enjoyment of life. Life itself
is happiness, and the pleasure of mere existence so entirely
absorbs me, that I neglect my {5} talents; I don't draw, I can't
make a stroke with the pencil, and yet I am a greater painter
than ever. Thin undulating vapours are spread over the plain;
thick tufted trees defend me from the meridian sun which only
checkers my shade with a few rays. Here, extended on the long
grass near the fall of a brook, I admire the infinite variety of
plants, and grow familiar with all the little insects that
surround me, as they hum amongst the flowers, or creep in the
grass. Then I feel the divine breath of that all-powerful Being
which created us; whose eternal love supports and comforts us. A
darkness spreads over my eyes; heaven and earth seem to dwell in
my soul, and absorb all its powers, like the idea of a beloved
mistress. Oh! that I could express, that I could describe, these
great conceptions, with the same warmth, with the same energy,
that they are impressed on my soul! but the sublimity of them
astonishes and overpowers me.
