Paris, Monday night, October 28, 1867.

You speak of vegetating. Indeed, that is the sort of life one would wish to lead nowadays, but the age is one of movement. Human vegetables are as unfortunate as those which live at the foot of Etna. From time to time upon them falls a deluge of fire, which usually annihilates them by its sulphurous vapours.

Do you not consider it calamitous that Pius IX and Garibaldi, both fanatics, should, by their obstinacy, turn everything into confusion? As an evidence of the morals of the age is the reply of those who disapprove the sending of our troops to Rome, when they are reminded of the treaty of September 15th: “What matters a treaty? M. de Bismarck does not observe them.” I should like to steal a watch from one of them, and then say that there have been precedents of watches being stolen. The most deplorable feature of the whole matter is, that we are pledging ourselves anew, for I know not how long a time, to protect the Pope, who shows not the slightest gratitude towards us....

Le Correspondent has yielded, and is publishing the continuation of Tourguenieff’s novel, without, however, permitting the interview between Litvinof and IrÈne to last more than one hour. I think I told you about it. Are you reading it? Le Correspondent certainly goes to ——, where you are. Anyway, I will give you the novel on your return.

I am still ill, breathing painfully, and at night not breathing at all. This sudden death of M. Fould has grieved me very much. It was, however, as easy as one could wish; but why so sudden? He wrote eighteen letters the same morning of his death, and two hours before retiring seemed perfectly well. He had not made the least movement after lying down, and his features bore no evidences of contraction. His death was precisely the same as that of Mr. Ellice; “a visitation of God” is what the English call it.

I am expecting to start early in November. I am urged to go, in order to escape colds, which are so difficult to avoid in Paris. I am finishing an article for the Moniteur, on a Greek manuscript, and shall depart just as soon as it is completed.

Good-bye, dear friend. I hope you will come back before I go. Abandon those hideous fogs, and take care of your health. Again, good-bye....