The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 10. Коллектив авторов
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СКАЧАТЬ child. Be comforted, then, and trust in the Lord God; He does, indeed, show us the rod that He has ready for us, but I have the firm belief that He will put it back behind the mirror. As a child I, too, suffered from whooping-cough to the extent of inflammation of the lungs, and yet entirely outgrew it. I have the greatest longing to be with you, my angel, and think day and night about you and your distress, and about the little creature, during all the wild turmoil of the elections. * * *

      Here in Brandenburg the party of the centre is decidedly stronger than ours; in the country districts I hope it is the other way, yet the fact cannot be overlooked. It is incredible what cock-and-bull stories the democrats tell the peasants about me; in fact, one from the Schönhausen district, three miles from us, confided to me yesterday that, when my name is mentioned among them, a regular shudder goes through them from head to foot, as though they should get a couple of "old-Prussian broadsword strokes" laid across their shoulders. As an opponent said recently, at a meeting, "Do you mean to elect Bismarck Schönhausen, the man 'who, in the countryman's evening prayer, stands hard by the devil'?" (From Grillparzer's Ahnfrau.) And yet I am the most soft-hearted person in the world towards the common people. On the whole, my election here in these circumstances seems very doubtful to me; and as I do not believe I shall be elected in the other place either, when I am not there personally, we may live together quietly the rest of the summer, if it be God's will, and I will pet you into recovery from your fright about the child, my darling. Have no anxiety whatever about my personal safety; one hears nothing of the cholera here except in a letter from Reinfeld. The first rule to observe, if it should come nearer to you, is to speak of it as little as possible; by speaking, one always augments the fear of others, and fear of it is the easiest bridge on which it can enter the human body. * * *

      God guard you and your child, and all our house.

      Your most faithful

      v.B.

      It is better not to leave the doors all open constantly, for the child often gets shock from the draught, when one is opened, before you can prevent it.

      (Postmark, Berlin, August 8, '49.)

      My Love,—I sent you a letter this morning, and have just received yours, in reply to which I will add a few more words touching the wet-nurse. If any one besides you and father and mother already knows about the matter, in the house or outside, then tell her the truth unhesitatingly, for in that case it will not stay hidden. If the matter is still known to yourselves alone, let it continue so, but then keep watch on the mail-bag, lest she learn of it unexpectedly. The wet-nurse's sister here is unwilling to have it told to her. I shall look her up today and speak with her. But if you do not wish to keep it secret any longer, when once the child is rid of her cough, you should at any rate look about you for a wet-nurse or woman who, in case of necessity, can take Friederike's place immediately, if the effect is such that the child cannot stay with her. I shall get the sister to give me a letter to her, in which the story will be told exactly and soothingly; this I shall send to you, so that you may make use of it in case of need; that, I think, is the best way she can learn of it. To tell her first that her child is sick, and so forth, I do not consider a good plan, for anxiety has a worse effect than the truth. God will graciously bring us out of this trouble. He holds us with a short rein lest we should become self-confident, but He will not let us fall. Good-by, my best-of-all; pray and keep your head up.

      Your very faithful

      v.B.

      Berlin, August 11, '49.

      Mon Ange,—I went to see the wet-nurse's kinsfolk, and there learned that the fiancé had written to her last Wednesday and revealed all to her; so the matter will go as God directs. If you chanced to intercept the letter, and on receipt of this have not yet delivered it, please delay it until my next arrives. I could not find the fiancé himself, and directed him to come to me this evening, and shall write you what I learn from him. If Friederike knows everything already, my wishes will reach you too late; otherwise I should like, if in accordance with medical opinion, not to have the wet-nurse sent away altogether, but only relieved from service for a few hours or days; if, however, there are scruples on that point, it can't be done, of course. From my many doubts, you will see that I cannot decide the matter very well at this distance. Act quite in accordance with the advice of your mother and the other experienced friends. I give my views, merely, not commands. * * * Be content with these lines for today; be courageous and submissive to God's will, my darling; all will surely go well. Cordial remembrances to the parents.

      Your most faithful

      v.B.

      Berlin, Friday. (Postmark, August 17, '49.)

      Dearest Nanne,– * * * Your last letter, in which you inform me of the happy solution of the wet-nurse difficulty, took a real load off my heart; I thanked God for His mercy, and could almost have got drunk from pure gayety. May His protection extend henceforward, too, over you and the little darling. I am living with Hans here at the corner of Taubenstrasse, three rooms and one alcove, quite elegant, but narrow little holes; Hans' bed full of bugs, but mine not as yet—I seem not to be to their taste. We pay twenty-five rix-dollars a month, together. If there were one additional small room, and not two flights of stairs, I could live with you here, and Hans could get another apartment below in this house. But, as it is, it would be too cramped for us. I have talked with the fiancé of the wet-nurse, a modest-looking person. He spoke of her with love, and declared in reply to my question that he certainly is willing to marry her. What he wrote about the "white pestilence" is nonsense; no such sickness exists, least of all in Berlin. The cholera is fast disappearing. I have not heard a word more about it since I came here; one sees it only in newspaper reports. Isn't our mammy jealous because, according to the paper, I have been in company with "strikingly handsome" Englishwomen? Lady Jersey was really something uncommon, such as is usually seen only in keepsakes. I would have paid a rix-dollar admission if she had been exhibited for money. She is now in Vienna. For the rest, I have not had a letter from you this long time; my last news comes from Bernhard, who left you a week ago today. God has upheld you meantime, I trust, my angel. It is possible that a letter from you is here. The delivery is always rather irregular: sometimes the letter-carrier brings them, sometimes they are delivered at the Chamber postal station. I will go immediately and inquire if anything is there; then I will take a bath, and return at least ten calls that have been paid me. It is a misery that now the people always receive one—one loses a terrible amount of time at it…. Hans is still inclined to treat me tyrannically, but I resist, and have been so far successful that I sleep as long as I please, whereat the coffee grows cold, however, as he is obstinately bent on not breakfasting alone. So, too, he will not go to bed if I do not go at the same time, but sleeps, just like my little Nanne, on the sofa…. Now, good-by my much-beloved heart. I am very anxious on your account, and often am quite tearful about it. Best regards to the parents.

      Your most faithful v.B.

      Berlin, Monday. (Postmark, August 28, '49.)

      My Darling,—I sit here in my corner room, two flights up, and survey the sky, full of nothing but little sunset-tinted lambs, as it appears, along the Taubenstrasse and over the tree-tops of Prinz Carl's garden, while along Friedrichstrasse it is all golden and cloudless; the air damp and mild, too. I thought of you and of Venice, and this only I wanted to write to you. News has come today that Venice has surrendered at discretion; so we can go there again, and again see the tall white grenadiers. * * * I dined with Manteuffel today, yesterday with Prince Albert, of course, day before yesterday with Arnim, and then I took a ride with him of fourteen miles at a gallop—which suited me well, save for some muscular pains. In the Chamber we keep on doing nothing whatever; in the Upper House the German question, happily, has been brought forward again in very good speeches by Gerlach, Bethmann, and Stahl, and yet today the Camphausen proposition was adopted with all the votes against nineteen. With us, too, it is beginning to excite men's СКАЧАТЬ