PARIS, _July 27, 1867_.
DEAR FRIEND: Thanks for your letter. I continue so ill, that I did not
write to you at once, hoping to give you more hopeful news of myself;
but no matter what I do and what I swallow, I still have this horrible
cold. I shall not give you the details of my ills, but you may be sure
that I am overcome by them. I hope you will sympathise with me. I
neither sleep nor eat. I envy you these two faculties, which you possess
with many others.
I congratulate you on having met the sultan for so long a time. Did he
exhibit more amiability towards your sex than he did in Paris? They tell
me that he gave great dissatisfaction at the opera. The pasha of Egypt
was much more gracious. He made two visits to Mademoiselle ----, which I
dare not describe to you, although they were curious. He has become
reconciled (I am speaking of the pasha) with his cousin Mustapha, but it
has been impossible to have them drink coffee together, each one being
persuaded that it would be too dangerous on account of the rapid
progress of the science of chemistry.
If you had been in Paris you would have seen something very beautiful
which was presented to me. It is a brooch in the form of a fleur-de-lis
shield, containing a miniature portrait of Marie Antoinette, painted in
Vienna, probably, before her marriage, and given by her to the princess
de Lamballe. There was once in the back of the brooch a lock of hair,
but it has been removed. After a fine show of resistance to the
temptation, I yielded, and sent it promptly to her Majesty, who is
making a collection of objects which belonged to Marie Antoinette. This
will be, assuredly, one of her prettiest souvenirs; besides which, it is
said to be absolutely authentic, and was worn for a long time by Madame
de Lamballe. These sad antiquities fill me with horror, but it is vain
to dispute about tastes.
Madame ---- is still making a great scandal, and openly. I am sorry that
I am not at liberty to write you all that she says and does. It is
asserted that in Italy are two other wives of ministers more
extravagantly wild than she....
I think you might have been a little more polite, and borrowed my proofs
from me. Nothing is more painful to an author than neglect of this sort.
August 1st, a second article appeared, and you will be compelled to
fortify yourself against three or four others. If you could invent some
euphemism to explain to the reader the secret of Mentchikof’s influence
with Peter the Great, it would be an immense favour to me.
Read also, in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, M. Collin’s article on trades
unions (it is by M. Libri), and a letter of M. d’Haussonville to prince
Napoleon, which is highly calculated to spoil his taste for newspaper
polemical articles.
Sainte-Beuve continues quite ill. He is surrounded by numbers of women,
like the sultan Saladin. You shall not persuade me that you are having
at ---- any better weather than here--that is to say, continuous gusts of
rain and wind.
When are you coming back? I need you very much, to tell me what is going
on, and to help me bear my misfortunes in patience--something very
difficult to do. The other night, when it was almost impossible for me
to breathe, I read Luther’s Table-Talk. This big man pleases me, with
all his prejudices and his hatred of the devil. Good-bye, dear friend.