My best thanks for your dear letter of the 13th. You say rightly, what a fault it is of parents to bring up their daughters with the main object of marrying them. This is said to be a too prominent feature in the modern English education of the higher classes. * * * I want to strive to bring up the girls without seeking this as the sole object for the future—to feel they can fill up their lives so well otherwise. * * * A marriage for the sake of marriage is surely the greatest mistake a woman can make. * * * I know what an absorbing feeling that of devotion to one’s parent is. When I was at home, it filled my whole soul. It does still, in a great degree, and Heimweh [homesickness] does not cease after ever so long an absence. * * *
Darmstadt, April 23d.
* * * I thought so much of your remarks about daughters, etc., and do think it so natural and dutiful to remain with one’s parent as long as one is wanted. Is it not a duty when no one else can take one’s place? I should feel it so.
April 26th.
I thank you most tenderly for your loving wishes for my birthday, received on getting up yesterday morning. You can understand that the day was inexpressibly sad, that the fair head missing in our circle was painfully felt, and that all these recollections caused me endless tears and heartache—though not for him, sweet precious child.
As you say, life at best is a struggle; happy those who can lie down to rest, having fought their battle well; or those who have been spared fighting it at all, and have remained pure and untouched, barely touching this earth, so mixed up with grief and sin!
Let me thank you for the charming photographs, and for the present toward the layette—a most kind assistance.
* * * We went to the Mausoleum. The children had made me wreaths to take there, and we all went together. How often and tenderly Ernie speaks of Frittie! It is very touching, and speaks of his deep and warm heart. He said the other day—for the recollection of death has left such a deep impression, and he cannot reconcile it with life, it pains him,—“When I die, you must die too, and all the others; why can’t all die together? I don’t like to die alone, like Frittie.” Poor child! the wish that all have, who love their own, so early expressed. * * *
May 4th.
Many thanks for your last dear letter written on dear Arthur’s birthday, of which, though late, I wish you joy. Such a good, steady, excellent boy as he is! What a comfort it must be to you, never to have had any cause of uneasiness or annoyance in his conduct! He is so much respected, which for one so young is doubly praiseworthy. From St. Petersburg, as from Vienna, we heard the same account of the steady line he holds to, in spite of all chaffing, etc., from others; which shows character.