There are three things which our child shall certainly have--a great deal of wanton spirit, a serious face, and a certain amount of predisposition for art. Everything else I await with quiet resignation. Son or daughter, as for that I have no special preference. But about the child's bringing-up I have thought a great, great deal. We must carefully avoid, I think, what is called "education;" try harder to avoid it than, say, three sensible fathers try, by anxious thought, to lace up their progeny from the very cradle in the bands of narrow morality. I have made some plans which I think will please you. In doing so I have carefully considered your ideas. But you must not neglect the Art! For your daughter, if it should be a daughter, would you prefer portrait-or landscape-painting? * * * * * You foolish girl, with your external things! You want to know what is going on around me, and where and when and how I live and amuse myself? Just look around you, on the chair beside you, in your arms, close to your heart--that is where I am. Does not a ray of longing strike you, creep up with sweet warmth to your heart, until it reaches your mouth, where it would fain overflow in kisses? And now you actually boast because you write me such warm letters, while I only write to you often, you pedantic creature. At first I always think of you as you describe it--that I am walking with you, looking at you, listening to you, talking with you. Then again it is sometimes quite different, especially when I wake up at night. How can you have any doubt about the worthiness and divineness of your letters? The last one sparkles and beams as if it had bright eyes. It is not mere writing--it is music. I believe that if I were to stay away from you a few more months, your style would become absolutely perfect. Meanwhile I think it advisable for us to forget about writing and style, and no longer to postpone the highest and loveliest of studies. I have practically decided to set out in eight days. II It is a remarkable thing that man does not stand in great awe of himself. The children are justified, when they peep so curiously and timidly at a company of unknown faces. Each individual atom of everlasting time is capable of comprising a world of joy, and at the same time of opening up a fathomless abyss of pain and suffering. I understand now the old fairy-tale about the man whom the sorcerer allowed to live a great many years in a few moments. For I know by my own experience the terrible omnipotence of the fantasy.