will seem superhuman. Sand, however, was not discouraged, and if he
could not gain an influence over everyone, he at least succeeded in
forming around him a considerable circle of the most intelligent and the
best; nevertheless, in the midst of these apostolic labours strange
longings for death would overcome him; he seemed to recall heaven and
want to return to it; he called these temptations "homesickness for the
soul's country."

His favourite authors were Lessing, Schiller, Herder, and Goethe; after
re-reading the two last for the twentieth time, this is what he wrote:

"Good and evil touch each other; the woes of the young Werther and
Weisslingen's seduction, are almost the same story; no matter, we must
not judge between what is good and what is evil in others; for that is
what God will do. I have just been spending much time over this thought,
and have become convinced that in no circumstances ought we to allow
ourselves to seek for the devil in others, and that we have no right to
judge; the only creature over wham we have received the power to judge
and condemn is ourself, and that gives us enough constant care, business,
and trouble.

"I have again to-day felt a profound desire to quit this world and enter
a higher world; but this desire is rather dejection than strength, a
lassitude than an upsoaring."

The year 1816 was spent by Sand in these pious attempts upon his young
comrades, in this ceaseless self-examination, and in the perpetual battle
which he waged with the desire for death that pursued him; every day he
had deeper doubts of himself; and on the 1st of January, 1817, he wrote
this prayer in his diary:--