My friend Favre has quite a FANCY for you and wants to know you. He
is not a physician who seeks practice, he only practices for his
friends, and he is offended if they want to pay him. YOUR
PERSONALITY interests him, that is all, and I have promised to
present him to you, if you are willing. He is something more than a
physician, I don't know what exactly, A SEEKER--after what?--
EVERYTHING. He is amusing, original and interesting to the utmost
degree. You must tell me if you want to see him, otherwise I shall
manage for him not to think of it any more. Answer about this
matter.
CLX. TO GEORGE SAND
Monday morning, 11 o'clock
I felt that something unpleasant had happened to you, because I had
just written to you for news when your letter was brought to me this
morning. I fished mine back from the porter; here is a second one.
Poor dear master! How uneasy you must have been and Madame Maurice
also. You do not tell me what he had (Maurice). In a few days before
the end of the week, write to confirm to me that everything has
turned out well. The trouble lies, I think, with the abominable
winter from which we are emerging! One hears of nothing but
illnesses and funerals! My poor servant is still at the Dubois
hospital, and I am distressed when I go to see him. For two months
now he has been confined to his bed suffering horribly.
As for me, I am better. I have read prodigiously. I have overworked,
but now I am almost on my feet again. The mass of gloom that I have
in the depths of my heart is a little larger, that is all. But, in a
little while, I hope that it will not be noticed. I spend my days in
the library of the Institute. The Arsenal library lends me books
that I read in the evening, and I begin again the next day. I shall
return home to Croisset the first of May. But I shall see you before
then. Everything will get right again with the sun.
The lovely lady in question made to me, for you, the most proper
excuses, asserting to me that "she never had any intention of
insulting genius."
Certainly, I shall be glad to meet M. Favre; since he is a friend of
yours I shall like him.
CLXI. TO GEORGE SAND
Tuesday morning
Dear master,
It is not staying in Paris that wears me out, but the series of
misfortunes that I have had during the last eight months! I am not
working too much, for what would become of me without work?
However, it is very hard for me to be reasonable. I am overwhelmed
by a black melancholy, which returns a propos of everything and
nothing, many times a day. Then, it passes and it begins again.
Perhaps it is because it is too long since I have written anything.
Nervous reservoirs are exhausted. As soon as I am at Croisset, I
shall begin the article about my poor Bouilhet, a painful and sad
task which I am in a hurry to finish, so as to set to work at Saint-
Antoine. As that is an extravagant subject, I hope it will divert
me.
I have seen your physician, M. Favre, who seemed to me very strange
and a little mad, between ourselves. He ought to like me for I let
him talk all the time. There are high lights in his talk, things
which sparkle for a moment, then one sees not a ray.
CLXII. TO GEORGE SAND
Paris, Thursday
M. X.----sent me news of you on Saturday: so now I know that
everything is going well with you, and that you have no more
uneasiness, dear master. But you, personally, how are you? The two
weeks are almost up, and I do not see you coming.
My mood continues not to be sportive. I am still given up to
abominable readings, but it is time that I stopped for I am
beginning to be disgusted with my subject.
Are you reading Taine's powerful book? I have gobbled it down, the
first volume with infinite pleasure. In fifty years perhaps that
will be the philosophy that will be taught in the colleges.
And the preface to the Idees de M. Aubray?
How I long to see you and to jabber with you!
CLXIII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Nohant, 16 April, 1870
What ought I to say to Levy so that he will take the first steps?
Tell me again how things are, for my memory is poor. You had sold
him one volume for ten thousand;--there are two, he himself told me
that that would be twenty thousand. What has he paid you up to now?
What words did you exchange at the time of this payment?
Answer, and I act.
Things are going better and better here, the little ones well again,
Maurice recovering nicely, I tired from having watched so much and
from watching yet, for he has to drink and wash out his mouth during
the night, and I am the only one in the house who has the faculty of
keeping awake. But I am not ill, and I work a little now and then
while loafing about. As soon as I can leave, I shall go to Paris. If
you are still there, it will be A PIECE OF GOOD LUCK, but I do not
dare to wish you to prolong your slavery there, for I can see that
you are still ill and that you are working too hard.
Croisset will cure you if you consent to take care of yourself.
I embrace you tenderly for myself and for all the family which
adores you.