She was proud of her German home on the German river. Because of these
patriotic feelings she was always called “_la petite Allemagne_” in
Ouchy by the octogenarian Count Kisseleff. In St. Petersburg also she
openly and freely confessed her love for her Fatherland. Many a playful
battle did she engage in with the young Grand Dukes. “For, you know,”
she wrote to her mother, “my heart only glows for Germany!”
On the 25th of December 1863 she writes to her parents:--“When I thank
you for the signs of your love, I really go much deeper and thank you
for something else: something so high, so true, and so holy, that I
cannot whisper it even, though it makes me so unboundedly happy. This
beautiful feeling is that we love one another so much, so very much,
that one can breathe peace to the other through his peace, joy through
his joy.... It is the blessing of my life that God sends me so much
love. My sympathies are ever widening, and my heart does not seem able
to contain the fulness of the sunbeams! I can never requite you, but
may perhaps impart my feelings to others, if God wills!”
The unwholesome climate of St. Petersburg and the over-straining of
her nerves soon showed themselves to have a detrimental effect on the
health of the till then so blooming Princess. She could take but little
part in the festivities of Christmas-time, and on the 1st of January
1864 she became alarmingly ill of a nervous gastric fever. The Grand
Duchess surrounded her with motherly love and care. The Grand Duchess
Catherine and the lady-in-waiting, Baroness Edith von Rahden, nursed
and watched her unceasingly. But weeks went by, and she still lay in
bed. It was the first illness she had ever had. Till now, when she
had reached her twentieth year, she had never tasted any medicine.
As soon as she was released from pain and could occupy herself, she
became absorbed in the book of “The Unconscious Life of the Soul,”
which her father had sent her as a Christmas present. She writes from
her bed:--“There is such great humility in the preface, combined with
the power of assurance. Then I recognised my father in the first three
pages by his manner of demonstrating his arguments. What a different
sort of reading it is when the language is as familiar to us as our
own, when we see the idea before us which we have absorbed as the very
breath of our life! I am glad that papa has sent me the book just now.
As I read, I see his face before me, and seem to be really talking to
him.”
On the 16th of January 1864 she wrote to her father:--“How often a
feeling of pride comes over me that I have my father’s writings in my
hands, and then a glow of happiness, because every word has come from
your pen and from your inmost heart! For your soul was prepared by the
wonderful experiences of fifty years, and the mind could communicate to
her unhindered, and tell her what it will about itself and its nature.
It is such a beautiful idea, that the indwelling Spirit of God educates
the soul and gives to it as much as it requires. Not a word more. It
makes one very humble, and awakes in one a longing to keep the soul
so pure (by withstanding its natural earthly temptations), that God
may find it worthy of having many things revealed to it! But how is it
with the mind and the soul of Christ? That is the mystery of His godly
and yet human nature; His soul must have been so pure, so much above
earthly things, that God could tell it all things.
“I am getting on well now, and enjoy these quiet days in which I can
collect my thoughts. I think they will keep me out of the stream of
society, for they see that it tires me. There will be between forty
and fifty balls before the Carnival, when they will rush about for a
week--the so-called ‘_folles journées_.’ But do not be anxious. That is
not in my line. It is very odd, but I read ninety pages of philosophy
yesterday, and felt so rested, that all were surprised to see me look
so well. But if only two or three ladies begin to gossip about all the
noise and bustle going on, I fall to pieces like a withered leaf. To
my joy, I notice what a strong constitution I have, for real thinking
refreshes me, while excitement of the nerves makes me ill. Yes, my
beloved ones, I feel every day how wonderfully you have educated me,
and what you have given me for life--a great treasure, the hoard of the
Nibelungen, which also lies in the Rhine; but I know the spot, and draw
from it every day.