CANNES, _January 22, 1860_.
I found your letter awaiting me on my return from the country, or
rather, the village, where I have spent a week almost under the eternal
snows. Although situated on an elevated plateau, I did not suffer from
the cold. I have seen rocks, cascades, and precipices of wonderful
beauty; a great cavern containing a subterranean lake, the extent of
which is not known, and which one may easily suppose to be the
dwelling-place of all the gnomes and imps of the Alps; another huge
cavern, three kilometres in length, from the interior of which there was
a display of fireworks for my benefit. In fine, I have spent my week in
admiration of pure nature.
I returned from my trip with horrible pains, and for two days I have
been laid up, without being able to eat or sleep. I see decidedly that
the machine is out of order, and is no longer worth anything at all. I
hope it is quite otherwise with you, and that you have suffered no
return of the fever. As you did not mention it, I fancy you are entirely
cured of this distress. I am trying to be patient under my sufferings,
and succeed well enough during the day; but at night my patience deserts
me, and I rage.
You have not told me what you paid for those moral books you bought for
the Demoiselles de Lagrénée. It pleases me to believe that you remained
within the limit of prudence which you observe in all your transactions.
I shall have probably another debt to contract with you soon.
Some one lent me a pamphlet written by my confrère Villemain, which
seems to be extraordinarily full of platitudes. When one has undertaken
to write a book against the Jesuits, and has boasted of being the
champion of liberty of the conscience against the omnipotence of the
Church, it is amusing to see how he recants, and what poor arguments he
employs. I believe everybody, except the emperor, has gone mad. He
resembles the shepherds of the middle ages, who, by the power of their
magic flute, compelled the wolves to dance. I have received a letter
from Paris, with the news that the _Academy Française_, which, a few
years ago, was Voltairian, wishes to elect the abbé Lacordaire, as a
protest against the indignities to which the Pope is subjected. However,
‘tis all the same to me. So long as I am not compelled to listen to
their sermons, they may elect every member of the Sacred College to the
Academy.
Good-bye.