When we see not only that the world in general, and especially the younger generation, are given over to their lusts and passions, but also that what is best and highest in them is misplaced and distorted through the serious follies of the age; when we see that what should lead them to salvation really contributes to their damnation—­to say nothing of the unspeakable stress brought to bear upon them from without—­then we cease to wonder at the misdeeds which a man performs in rage against himself and others.  I believe I am capable of writing another Werther, which would make people’s hair stand on end, even more than the first did.  Let me add one remark.  Most young people, who feel themselves possessed of merit, demand of themselves more than is right.  They are, however, pressed and forced into it by their gigantic surroundings.  I know half a dozen of that kind who will certainly perish, and whom it would be impossible to help, even if one could make clear to them where their real advantage lies.  Nobody realizes that reason, courage, and will-power are given to us so that we shall refrain, not only from evil, but from excess of goodness.

I thank you for your comments on the pages of my autobiography.  I had already heard much that was good and kind about them in a general way.  You are the first and only one who has gone into the heart of the matter.

I am glad that the description of my father impressed you favorably.  I will not deny that I am heartily tired of the German bourgeois, these Lorenz Starks, or whatever they may be called, who, in humorous gloom, give free play to their pedantic temperament, and by standing dubiously in the way of their good-natured desires, destroy them, as well as the happiness of other people.  In the two following volumes the figure of my father is completely developed, and if on his side as well as on the side of his son, a grain of mutual understanding had entered into this precious family relationship, both would have been spared much.  But it was not to be; and indeed such is life.  The best laid plan for a journey is upset by the stupidest kind of accident, and a man goes farthest when he does not know where he is going.

Do have the goodness to continue your comments; for I go slowly, as the subject demands, and keep much in petto (on which account many readers grow impatient who would be quite satisfied to have the whole meal from beginning to end, well braised and roasted, served up at one sitting, so that they could the sooner swallow it, and on the morrow seek better or worse cheer at random, in a different eating-house or cook’s-shop).  But I, as I have already said, remain in ambush, in order to let my lancers and troopers rush forward at the right moment.  It is, therefore, very interesting for me to learn what you, as an experienced Field-Marshal, have already noticed about the vanguard.  I have as yet read no criticisms of this little work; I will read them all at once after the next two volumes are printed.  For many years I have observed that those who should and would speak of me in public, be their intentions good or bad, seem to find themselves in a painful position, and I have hardly ever come face to face with a critic who did not sooner or later show the famous countenance of Vespasian, and a faciem duram.