They both attended a French conversation class, and had long walks home together, during which they spoke French. It was easier to speak of delicate matters in a foreign tongue. He also wrote French essays, which she corrected. His father's admiration for the old maid lessened, and his step-mother did not like this French conversation, which she did not understand. His elder brother's prerogative of talking French was also neutralised thereby. This vexed his father, so that one day he said to John, that it was impolite to speak a foreign language before those who did not understand it, and that he could not understand that Fräulein X., who was otherwise so cultivated, could commit such a bêtise. But, he added, cultivation of the heart was not gained by book-learning.

They no longer endured her presence in the house, and she was "persecuted." At last her family left the house altogether, so that now there was little intercourse with them. The day after their removal, John felt lacerated. He could not live without her daily companionship, without this support which had lifted him out of the society of those of his own age to that of his elders. To make himself ridiculous by seeking her as a lover—that he could not do. The only thing left was to write to her. They now opened a correspondence, which lasted for a year. His step-mother's sister, who idolised the clever, bright spinster, conveyed the letters secretly. They wrote in French, so that their letters might remain unintelligible if discovered; besides, they could express themselves more freely in this medium. Their letters treated of all kinds of subjects. They wrote about Christ, the battle against sin, about life, death and love, friendship and scepticism. Although she was a pietist, she was familiar with free-thinkers, and suffered from doubts on all kinds of subjects. John was alternately her stern preceptor and her reprimanded son. One or two translations of John's French essays will give some idea of the chaotic state of the minds of both.

Is Man's Life a Life of Sorrow? 1864

"Man's life is a battle from beginning to end. We are all born into this wretched life under conditions which are full of trouble and grief. Childhood to begin with has its little cares and disagreeables; youth has its great temptations, on the victorious resistance to which the whole subsequent life depends; mature life has anxieties about the means of existence and the fulfilment of duties; finally, old age has its thorns in the flesh, and its frailty. What are all enjoyments and all joys, which are regarded by so many men as the highest good in life? Beautiful illusions! Life is a ceaseless struggle with failures and misfortunes, a struggle which ends only in death.

"But we will consider the matter from another side. Is there no reason to be joyful and contented? I have a home and parents who care for my future; I live in fairly favourable circumstances, and have good health—ought I not then to be contented and happy? Yes, and yet I am not. Look at the poor labourer, who, when his day's work is done, returns to his simple cottage where poverty reigns; he is happy and even joyful. He would be made glad by a trifle which I despise. I envy thee, happy man, who hast true joy!