I have already reported that, at that time, when so many things were pressing together, I received the most precious thing that a man can have the privilege of enjoying: a loving wife.

I had found her in Dessau. Dessau is a friendly garden spot, situated amidst broad meadows and a stately oak forest. At that time (1836) I had the same experience as did Saul, who went to find his father's asses, and found a kingdom. Since then it has probably happened for many people; I did not find a kingdom, but something more valuable. The view of the little provincial capital, where once the old Dessauer brought his pharmacist's-daughter home, and later Basedow, Müller, and Schneider had worked, seemed quite individual to me. I was not very much aware of my, whether it was her fault or mine, they may well have dabbled, preached, cured, visited the Leipzig Fair. But when I walked through the sunlit Kavalierstrasse in the mornings, in order to see my young Therese, upon every ringing of the hour that resounded far through the stillness, ten house doors would open at once. From each of them a young and delicate man with a green and white hat came forth, then to disappear again into another door. These were the students of the old Schneider, who was the shepherd of Apollo's musical flocks here. The friendly young men walked from one beauty to another in order to share once more their musical wisdom, as fresh as it was when they received it.

But this young beauty was the warm center of the life of the small town. In the healthy quiet, amongst the scent of flowers and the breath of the majestic oaks, she had grown up; I had never seen so much charm and beauty in such a small space. The distractions and the unnerving din of the big cities, and the peacock pride of their feminine circles, were unknown here; what one wished to enjoy, one had to create for oneself; this is the secret blessing of small towns.