True it is that if we compare the sorrows of our earthly life with the hope of an eternal existence, though painfully felt, still they shrink as it were in appreciation.
You feel so truly, so affectionately, that even in that you must gratify the dear being we lost. When I think of poor Aunt Julia,12 she was so alone that I cannot help to pity her even in all the objects she valued and left behind; the affectionate care which is shown to everything connected with your dear Mamma could not have existed, and still she was a noble character, and with a warm, generous heart. In all your dear Mamma's letters there will everywhere be found traces of the affection which united us. From early childhood we were close allies; she recollected everything so well of that period which now, since the departure of the two sisters, is totally unknown to every one but me, which, you can imagine, is a most melancholy sensation. Time flies so fast that all dear recollections soon get isolated. Your stay at Osborne will do you good, though Spring, when fine, affects one very much, to think that the one that was beloved does not share in these pleasant sensations. You must try, however, not to shake your precious health too much. Your dear Mamma, who watched your looks so affectionately, would not approve of it.... Your devoted old Uncle,
Leopold R.
Footnote 12: Sister of King Leopold, and widow of the Grand Duke Constantine, who had lived in retirement at Geneva for many years, and died at Elfenau on the 15th of August 1860.
Queen Victoria to the King of the Belgians.
Osborne, 9th April 1861.
My dearly beloved Uncle,—Your dear, sad letter of the 5th found a warm response in my poor heart, and I thank you with all my heart for it. I am now most anxiously waiting for an answer to my letter asking you to come to us now. You would, I think, find it soothing, and it would painfully interest you to look over her letters and papers, which make me live in times I heard her talk of when I was a child. It is touching to find how she treasured up every little flower, every bit of hair. I found some of dear Princess Charlotte's, and touching relics of my poor Father, in a little writing-desk of his I had never seen, with his last letters to her, and her notes after his death written in a little book, expressing such longing to be reunited to him! Now she is! And what a comfort it is to think how many very dear ones are gone on before her whom she will find! All these notes show how very, very much she and my beloved Father loved each other. Such love and affection! I hardly knew it was to that extent. Then her love for me—it is too touching! I have found little books with the accounts of my babyhood, and they show such unbounded tenderness! Oh! I am so wretched to think how, for a time, two people most wickedly estranged us!... To miss a mother's friendship—not to be able to have her to confide in—when a girl most needs it, was fearful! I dare not think of it—it drives me wild now! But thank God! that is all passed long, long ago, and she had forgotten it, and only thought of the last very happy years.
And all that was brought by my good angel, dearest Albert, whom she adored, and in whom she had such unbounded confidence....
On Sunday our dear little Beatrice was four years old. It upset me much, for she was the idol of that beloved Grandmamma, and the child so fond of her. She continually speaks of her—how she "is in Heaven," but hopes she will return! She is a most darling, engaging child.... Ever your devoted Niece,
Victoria R.