granted and thus far preserved to me. Would
that gratitude therefor might so dispose my obstinate and worldly
heart to receive the mercy of the Lord that it shall not be necessary
for Him to chastise me in what I love, for I have greater fear of that
than of any other evil. * * * In a few weeks it must be decided
whether I shall be made Envoy here or stay at Reinfeld. The Austrians
at Berlin are agitating against my appointment, because my
black-and-white is not sufficiently yellow for them; but I hardly
believe they will succeed, and you, my poor dear, will probably have
to jump into the cold water of diplomacy; and the boy, unlucky wight
that he is, will have a South-German accent added to his Berlin
nativity. * * * As far as can now be foreseen, I shall not be able to
get away from this galley for two or three weeks, for, including
Silesia, that amount of time would probably be necessary for it. But
much water will flow down the Main before then, and I am not worrying
before the time comes. How I should like to turn suddenly around the
bushy corner of the lawn and surprise all of you in the hall! I see
you so plainly, attending to the children, covering up Midget, with
sensible speeches, and father sitting at his desk smoking, the mayor
beside him, and mammy bolt-upright on her sofa, by wretched light, one
hand lying on the arm-rest, or holding _Musee Francais_ close before
her eyes. God grant that at this moment everything at Reinfeld is
going as smoothly as this. I have at last received a letter from Hans,
one that is very charming, and, contrary to his custom, mysterious, in
view of the post-office spies. You may imagine how Senfft writes to me
under these circumstances. I received an unsigned letter from him the
other day, out of which the most quick-witted letter-bandit would have
been at a loss to decipher what he was driving at. If you occasionally
come across some unintelligible notices at the tail end of the
_Observer_, they will thus seem to you more puzzling still, and to the
blockhead who breaks open this letter they will remain unintelligible,
even if I tell you that they are a part of my correspondence. Only
give me frequent tidings, my beloved heart, even if short ones, so
that I may have the assurance that you are alive and well. A have
picked the enclosed leaves for you in the garden of old Amschel
Rothschild, whom I like, because he is simply a haggling Jew, and does
not pretend to be anything else,