CANNES, _March 1, 1862_.
... You are very good to think of my book in the midst of all your
cares. If you can have it for me by the time I return I shall esteem it
a great favour, but do not give yourself much trouble about it.
My cousin’s fête-day went completely out of my head, and I recalled it
the other day only when it was too late. When I return we will talk the
matter over, if you please. Every year it becomes more embarrassing, and
I have exhausted the possibility of rings, pins, handkerchiefs, and
buttons. It is deuced hard to invent something new!
As for novels, the difficulty is equally great. In this class of books I
have just read a few rhapsodies that deserve nothing less than corporal
punishment. I am going to spend three days in the mountains, at Saint
Césaire, beyond Cannes, at the home of my doctor, who is a man of the
kindest impulses. Upon my return I shall begin to think seriously of
starting for Paris.
I do not regret in the least having been absent from all the hubbub that
has gone on in the Luxembourg, and which was worthy of fourth-form
schoolboys. Even less do I regret that I took no share in the elections
or, rather, the preliminary elections, which were held at the Academy
the other day.
We are at this time in subjection to the clericals, and soon, in order
to be recognised as a candidate, it will be necessary to produce a
certificate of confession. M. de Montalembert gave such a certificate of
Catholicism to a friend of mine, who, to be sure, is from Marseilles,
but who had the good sense to offer no objection. Up to the present
these gentlemen are not troublesome, but with time and success they are
in danger of becoming so.
You can imagine nothing prettier than our country in fine weather. This
is not the case to-day, however, for something extraordinary, it has
been raining since morning. All the fields are covered with violets and
anemones, and with quantities of other flowers whose names I do not
know.
Good-bye, dear friend. Soon I shall see you, I hope. I wish to find you
again in the same excellent condition in which I left you two months
ago. Do not grow thin or stout, do not worry too much, and think of me
now and then. Good-bye.