PARIS, _Thursday, September 6, 1844_.
It seems to me like a dream that I have seen you. We were together such
a little time that I told you nothing of what I wished to say. You
yourself appeared to be uncertain whether I was a reality. When shall we
meet again? I am at present engaged in a most servile and tiresome
business, that of canvassing for membership in the Academy of
Inscriptions. Some of my experiences are ridiculous, and I am often
tempted strongly to laugh at myself, a temptation which I repress,
however, for fear of shocking the gravity of the Academicians. I have
embarked upon this business--or, rather, others have pushed me into
it--somewhat blindly. My chances are not bad, but the solicitation of
votes is most repugnant to me, and the worst feature of the whole thing
is that I must wait such an age for the result, certainly until the last
of October, and perhaps longer.
I am uncertain whether I shall be able to go to Algiers this year. My
one consoling thought is that I shall then remain in Paris, and shall,
therefore, see you. Will that give you any pleasure? Tell me that it
will, and humour me. I have become so callous from all these tiresome
visits that I need all the tender indulgence you can grant me to put a
little new courage and energy into me.
You have no cause to be jealous of the Academy. It is, of course, a
matter of selfinterest for me to win, just as I should wish to win a
game of chess with a skilful adversary, and yet, I fancy, neither losing
nor winning will affect me a quarter as much as one of our quarrels. But
what an obnoxious business is that of canvassing for votes! Have you
ever seen dogs entering a badger’s hole? After they have had some
experience in this occupation, they make, on entering, a desperate show
of fierceness, and not infrequently come out much faster than they go
in, for the badger is an ugly beast to visit. I never touch the doorbell
of an Academician’s that I am not reminded of the badger, and compare
myself, in my mind’s eye, to the dog I have just described. I have not
yet been bitten, however, but I have had some ludicrous encounters.
Good-bye.