MY DEAREST UNCLE,--I must begin by thanking you for your kind letter of the 26th, and by wishing you joy that the fete went off _so_ well. I am glad Leo will appear at the next ball; he is nearly nine years old, and it is good to accustom children of his rank early to these things. Guizot's speech is exceedingly admired, with the exception of his having said more than he was justified to do about the right of search.[5] Our speech has been very difficult to frame; we should like to have mentioned our visits to France and Belgium, but it has been found impossible to do so; _France is_ mentioned, and it is the first time since 1834! To-morrow we go up to Town "pour ce bore," as the good King always said to me; whenever there were tiresome people to present he always said: "Je vous demande pardon de ce _bore_." I have had a tiresome though not at all violent cold which _I was_ alarmed might spoil the _sonorousness_ of my voice for the speech on Thursday, but it promises well now. I own I always look with horror to the beginning of a Parliamentary campaign. With Albert's love. Ever your devoted Niece, VICTORIA R. [Footnote 5: He insisted that French trade must be kept under the exclusive surveillance of the French flag.] [Pageheading: DEATH OF THE DUKE OF COBURG] _Queen Victoria to the King of the Belgians._ WINDSOR CASTLE, _6th February 1844._ MY DEARLY BELOVED UNCLE,--_You_ must now be the father to us poor bereaved, heartbroken children.[6] To describe to you _all_ that we _have_ suffered, all that we _do_ suffer, would be difficult; God has heavily afflicted us; we feel crushed, overwhelmed, bowed down by the loss of one who was so deservedly loved, I may say adored, by his children and family; I loved him and looked on him as my own father; his like we shall _not see again_; that youth, _that amiability_, and kindness in his own house which was the centre and rendezvous for the whole family, will never be seen again, and my poor Angel's fondest thought of beholding that _dearly beloved Vaterhaus_--where his thoughts continually were--_again_ is for ever gone and his poor heart bleeds to feel _this_ is for ever gone. Our promised visit, our dearest Papa's, and our fondest wish, all is put an end to. The violence of our grief may be over, but the desolate feeling which succeeds it is worse, and tears are a relief. I have never known real _grief_ till now, and it has made a lasting impression on me. A father is _such_ a _near_ relation, you are a _piece_ of him in fact,--and all (as my poor _deeply afflicted_ Angel says) the earliest pleasures of your life were given you by a dear father; that can _never be replaced_ though time may soften the pang. And indeed one loves to _cling_ to one's grief; I can understand Louise's feeling in her overwhelming sorrows.