N. B. I hope you will be able to decipher the end of the prelude; you need not be very particular about the time; it is the kind of thing that may be played as you feel inclined.  I should like to inflict twenty-five stripes on the sorry Vatel’s shoulders for not having married Katherl.  Nothing is more shameful, in my opinion, than to make a fool of an honest girl, and to play her false eventually; but I hope this may not be the case.  If I were her father, I would soon put a stop to the affair.

110.

Paris, July 31, 1778.

I hope you have got my two letters of the 11th and 18th.  Meantime I have received yours of the 13th and 20th.  The first brought tears of sorrow to my eyes, as I was reminded by it of the sad death of my darling mother, and the whole scene recurred vividly to me.  Never can I forget it while I live.  You know that (though I often wished it) I had never seen any one die, and the first time I did so it was fated to be my own mother!  My greatest misery was the thoughts of that hour, and I prayed earnestly to God for strength.  I was heard, and strength was given to me.  Melancholy as your letter made me, still I was inexpressibly happy to find that you both bear this sorrow as it ought to be borne, and that my mind may now be at ease about my beloved father and sister.  As soon as I read your letter, my first impulse was to throw myself on my knees, and fervently to thank our gracious God for this blessing.  I am now comparatively happy, because I have no longer anything to dread on account of the two persons who are dearest to me in this world; had it been otherwise, such a terrible misfortune would have utterly overwhelmed me.  Be careful therefore of your precious health for my sake, I entreat, and grant to him who flatters himself that he is now what you love most in the world the joy and felicity soon to embrace you.

Your last letter also caused my tears to flow from joy, as it convinced me more than ever of your fatherly love and care.  I shall strive with all my might still more to deserve your affection.  I thank you for the powder, but am sure you will be glad to hear that I do not require to use it.  During my dear mother’s illness it would have been very useful, but now, thank God!  I am perfectly well and healthy.  At times I have fits of melancholy, but the best way to get rid of them is by writing or receiving letters, which always cheers me; but, believe me, these sad feelings never recur without too good cause.  You wish to have an account of her illness and every detail connected with it; that you shall have; but I must ask you to let it be short, and I shall only allude to the principal facts, as the event is over, and cannot, alas! now be altered, and I require some space to write on business topics.