aftonishment and emotion fhe heard Werter upon the ftairs, afking if

fhe was at home. It was too late to deny herself, and she had not recovered her confufion when he came in. "You have not kept your word," fhe cried out." I did not promise any thing," he anfwered.

66

But for both our fakes," faid Charlotte, "you fhould have granted what I asked of you."- She fent to fome of her friends, and defired them to come, that they might be witneffes of the converfation; with the idea too, that Werter thinking himself obliged to wait upon them home, would go away the fooner.

He had brought fome books; fhe talked to him of them, and of some others, and introduced various indifferent fubjects whilft fhe was expecting her friends; but the fervant brought back their excufes one was engaged with company, and another prevented by the rain.

This unlucky circumftance at first made Charlotte uneafy, but the consciousness of her own innocence at length infpired her with a noble confidence and above the chimeras of Albert's brain, and conscious of her own purity of heart, the rejected her first intention of calling in her maid; and after play

ing two or three minuets on the harpficord to recover herself, fhe went with great compofure and fat down by Werter on the fofa. "Have you nothing to read to

your own tranflation of fome of the fongs of Offian; I have not yet read it; I have been waiting till you could read it to me yourself, but for fome time past you have been good for nothing." He fmiled, went to fetch the manufcript, and fhuddered as he took it up.-He fat down with eyes fwimming in tears,

and

and began to read.-After reading for fome time, he came to that affecting paffage, where Armin deplores the lofs of his beloved daughter.

"Alone on the fea-beat rock my daughter was heard to complain. Frequent and loud were her cries; nor could her father relieve her. All night I ftood on the fhore. I faw her by the faint beam of the moon. All night I heard her cries. Loud was the wind, and the rain beat hard on the fide of the mountain. Before morning appeared, her voice was weak; it died

away like

the evening breeze among the grafs

of

of the rocks. Spent with grief, fhe expired; and left thee, Armin, alone! Gone is my ftrength in the war; and fallen my pride among

women!

"When the ftorms of the mountain come, when the north lifts the waves on high, I fit by the founding fhore, and look on the fatal rock. Often by the fetting moon I fee the ghofts of my children. Half viewless they walk in mournful conference together. Will none of

you

fpeak in pity! They do not regard their father. I am fad, O Carmor! nor small my caufe of woe!"

A flood of tears ftreamed from

the

2