_[Menton, April 1874], Monday._
My last night at Mentone. I cannot tell how strange and sad I feel. I
leave behind me a dear friend whom I have but little hope of seeing
again between the eyes.
To-day, I hadn't arranged all my plans till five o'clock: I hired a poor
old cabman, whose uncomfortable vehicle and sorry horse make everyone
despise him, and set off to get money and say farewells. It was a dark
misty evening; the mist was down over all the hills; the peach-trees in
beautiful pink bloom. Arranged my plans; that merits a word by the way
if I can be bothered. I have half arranged to go to Goettingen in summer
to a course of lectures. Galitzin is responsible for this. He tells me
the professor is to law what Darwin has been to Natural History, and I
should like to understand Roman Law and a knowledge of law is so
necessary for all I hope to do.
My poor old cabman; his one horse made me three-quarters of an hour too
late for dinner, but I had not the heart to discharge him and take
another. Poor soul, he was so pleased with his pourboire, I have made
Madame Zassetsky promise to employ him often; so he will be something
the better for me, little as he will know it.
I have read _Ordered South_; it is pretty decent I think, but poor,
stiff, limping stuff at best--not half so well straightened up as
_Roads_. However the stuff is good.
God help us all, this is a rough world: address Hotel St. Romain, rue
St. Roch, Paris. I draw the line: a chapter finished.--Ever your
faithful friend,