Hôtel Beau Rivage, Geneva, May 24, 1887.
I do believe we shall have to return to America to thaw out. Here we arrive in Geneva this morning, full of memories of delightful summer, ten days earlier than this in 1881, to find snow down even to foothills of the Jura and on Mont Salève; it came two days ago, and the air, though clear, is very chilly, which is not to my liking.
Vienna was much better, excepting our last day, which had a cold and high wind, and our night journey to Munich was cold and comfortless, in spite of the best appliances.
I have nothing new to tell you of Vienna, where we made out our full week, quite enjoyingly.
Besides the normal sight-seeing, and drives around this truly magnificent city, we went one afternoon to the astronomical observatory out at Wahring (Weiss and wife being old acquaintances), and next day they went with us to the Prater. Körner and daughter took us to Schönbrunn. I went with these to a meeting of the Academy of Sciences; had a good turn around the new and immense, but mostly yet unarranged, Natural History Museum with Hauer, the director, and Steindachner, the zoölogical curator; had a look at the Hofherbarium on the upper floor, now under charge of a young man, Beck (and looked up some of Haenke’s things there). How different from forty-eight years ago, when Endlicher was curator, Fenzl, assistant, and the former took me out to the Botanic Garden to call on old Jacquin, etc. Steindachner, who was with Agassiz for a year or two at Cambridge, would have us come to his house for our last evening; Süss[141] and frau to meet us,—charming couple; would have been lots more, but we cut it short; had a jolly, pleasant evening. Körner was prevented from coming. He has been asked to take Eichler’s[142] place at Berlin; a botanic garden man and good teacher. Weisner’s physiological laboratory I had an hour or two in, and saw all his gimcracks; some nice ones. Saturday evening we went by rail to Salzburg (at day-dawn); Munich at sunrise, not stopping; on to Ulm soon after ten A.M. Bad weather kept Mrs. Gray indoors all day Sunday, though I ran about. Monday morning she had with me a good look over Ulm minster, inside and out; the upper part of the spire is rebuilding, and is to be carried up with the true taper, according to the original plan. That sight-seeing done, we came yesterday to, and across, the Lake Constance, to Zurich, for late afternoon and evening, and on to Geneva overnight.
I passed an hour this morning with De Candolle,—aged, but fairly cheerful,—and he begged me to breakfast with him to-morrow. Müller Argoviensis was not at his post.
What a season you have had, and what a fiasco Normandy would have been, as you say. Why, the apple blossoms are only now out here. We did have comfortable, warm and dry weather at Vienna, and the Belvidere gallery is most enjoyable. Berlin we don’t in the least care for; but our faces are rather set for Amsterdam, Antwerp, etc. If you have a call to write me soon after getting this, for a day or two you might venture Amsterdam, poste restante; but later the old address, to Hôtel St. Romain, Rue San Roque, would be the thing until further notice; add “To be kept till called for.”
I doubt if we shall be back in England before the 17th or 18th, and then Mrs. Gray will have to join her luggage, left somewhere in the neighborhood of Charing Cross, where it now reposes, and we shall have to hasten down to Cambridge....
We have had an enjoyable time; and, I suppose, shall by day after to-morrow set off Rhine-wards, stopping, perhaps, a day at Strasburg, and by the Low Countries back to Paris, probably not to be again on this side of the Channel, unless you and Lady H. will take a trip to Normandy with us, either in August or September.
I hope you will soon have done with Phyllanthus, and that you will not hesitate to restore as many old genera as your own judgment dictates. Your experience and present insight must exceed Bentham’s. And what you must needs indicate, the next man will take up, and probably cackle over.