Lausanne, August 24, 1857.

I found your letter at Berne on the evening of the 22d, because my excursions in the Oberland have been prolonged far beyond the limit I had set. I am uncertain where to address this. You must ere this have left Geneva. I am going to send it to Venice, where you will probably stop longest.

You might, I think, have varied your enthusiastic effusions on the delights of travelling by one or two words of flattering commendation, by way of consolation for those who are not privileged to accompany you. I forgive you, however, on account of your inexperience in travelling. You anticipate being on your way three weeks only; this seems to me to be almost impossible, and I will give you a month. I beg you, however, to consider that September 28th is an inauspicious anniversary for me, because it dates from so far in the past. It was the 28th of September that I came into the world. It would be signally agreeable to me to spend that day in your company. A word to the wise is sufficient.

I have enjoyed my little excursion very much indeed. It has rained but one day. I did not escape a drop of it, to be sure, during the two hours I was making the descent of the Wengern Alp on a jade that slid over the rocks, and did not advance a step. I drank some champagne which we had brought over the Mer de Glace, and which I iced on the very glacier. My guide assured me that I was the first one to have that brilliant idea. I am at this moment in the presence of the Gemmi and the Valois range, which are lacking in the superb outlines of the Jungfrau and her associates. We might have met at Geneva, I believe, and have made some excursion together. It is sad to think of this. I shall expect to find a letter from you in Paris, where I shall be the 28th.

Good-bye. Enjoy yourself, and do not over-fatigue yourself. Think sometimes of me. If you will give me your exact itinerary, I will write to you from Paris. It is deuced hard to write here. The pens of this country are what you see.

I send you a little leaf which grew six thousand feet above the level of the sea.

WORKS OF
PROSPER MÉRIMÉE

EDITED BY
Prof. GEORGE SAINTSBURY, M.A.
LETTERS TO
AN UNKNOWN
BIGELOW, BROWN & CO., Inc.
NEW YORK
Copyright, 1905
By FRANK S. HOLBY
———
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LETTERS TO AN UNKNOWN