LETTER XXV.
July 27.
I HAVE very often resolved not to see her so often. It is more
easy to talk than to act. Every day I yield to the temptation;
and when I return at night, I say I won't go on the morrow; but
on the morrow I find myself with her again, and don't know how it
has happened. Don't imagine, however, that good reasons are
always wanting. One evening she said, "You'll come again
tomorrow:" I could not then avoid going. Another day, the weather
is so fine I must walk. -- I walk to Walheim; when I am there it
is but half a league farther. My grandmother used to tell us a
story of a {68} mountain of load stone: When any vessels came
near it, the nails flew to the mountain, and the unhappy crew
perished amidst the disjointed planks.
