Mourn with me! This has been the most melancholy day of my life; I
am now writing at two o'clock in the morning. I must tell you that my
mother, my darling mother, is no more. God has called her to Himself; I
clearly see that it was His will to take her from us, and I must learn
to submit to the will of God. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.
Only think of all the distress, anxiety, and care I have endured for the
last fourteen days. She died quite unconscious, and her life went out
like a light. She confessed three days before, took the sacrament,
and received extreme unction. The last three days, however, she was
constantly delirious, and to-day, at twenty minutes past five o'clock,
her features became distorted, and she lost all feeling and perception.
I pressed her hand, I spoke to her, but she did not see me, she did not
hear me, and all feeling was gone. She lay thus till the moment of her
death, five hours after, at twenty minutes past ten at night. There was
no one present but myself, Herr Heiner, a kind friend whom my father
knows, and the nurse. It is quite impossible for me to describe the
whole course of the illness to-day. I am firmly convinced that she must
have died, and that God had so ordained it. All I would ask of you at
present is to act the part of a true friend, by preparing my father by
degrees for this sad intelligence. I have written to him by this post,
but only that she is seriously ill; and now I shall wait for your answer
and be guided by it. May God give him strength and courage! My dear
friend, I am consoled not only now, but have been so for some time past.
By the mercy of God I have borne it all with firmness and composure.
When the danger became imminent, I prayed to God for only two things--a
happy death for my mother, and strength and courage for myself; and our
gracious God heard my prayer and conferred these two boons fully on me.
I entreat you, therefore, my best friend, to watch over my father for
me; try to inspire him with courage, that the blow may not be too
hard and heavy on him when he learns the worst. I also, from my heart,
implore you to comfort my sister. Pray go straight to them, but do not
tell them she is actually dead--only prepare them for the truth. Do what
you think best, say what you please; only act so that my mind may be
relieved, and that I may not have to dread another misfortune. Support
and comfort my dear father and my dear sister. Answer me at once, I
entreat. Adieu! Your faithful