On the 5th of February came Mr. Lorie, painter, from Egypt.
We were very disappointed to find the Archbishop Mermillod had left for Cannes, being very ill, as I had known him since 1858.
Here we had the pleasure of a visit from the famous Elisée Réclus: homme de lettres and geographer is, perhaps, his right description, but as an Agnostic he stands out a little far; even the Sacrament of Matrimony is, they say, prohibited in his family. I was very anxious to give him a cordial reception, as he interested Richard and all of us immensely. His opinions coincided with the following, taken from Mrs. Bennett-Edwards' "Unwritten Law"—
"'Legalized marriage is tyranny—the tyranny of the Law and of the Church over the privacy of the individual. I will have no son and no daughter of mine a slave. If the result of a man's or a woman's life be moral—if it produce good, not evil, to the society—by what right does any Law or any Church interfere to regulate it? Wait,' he said to us; 'do nothing hastily that you may repent later. Wait until your characters and tastes be formed by your experience; and then, if you find them suitable one with the other, take up your lives together, that together you may reach the goal which I have set you—to the bettering, by example, of your fellow-men. Teach them that love, which means unity, is stronger to bind man to woman than any law; that a man's or a woman's honour is stronger to compel faith than any religious superstitions.'"
At the hour appointed the door was thrown open, and an announcement was made, which I did not hear, but I immediately left my armchair and my book, and walked over with both hands extended, saying, "Dear Monsieur Réclus, I am so delighted to make your acquaintance; such a pleasure to know such a distinguished man." He received my little speech with profuse bows and cordial thanks, and then pulling a key out of his pocket, he proceeded to wind the clocks. I felt a little surprised, but I thought it was perhaps another of the great man's peculiarities, so I went on talking to him the while, telling him how glad my husband would be to talk geography and science over with him, when the door opened, and a loud voice announced Monsieur Elisée Réclus. I picked myself up in a minute, and immediately performed the same ceremony as before. The clock-winder behaved so beautifully; he never moved a muscle of his face, and when he had finished his work, went out with a lovely bow. This episode delighted Richard and Dr. Baker.
On the 31st of January we had the report of poor Prince Rudolf's death; it threw a gloom over everything. On the 13th arrived Mr. Gustave Oppenheim, an old friend.
When Richard had had enough of Montreux, we moved on to Lausanne. All came to see us off, and we wondered how many of us would meet again. Here we found Colonel Abbadie, Dr. Baker's mother and sister, Marc Dufour, a celebrated oculist and philanthropist, and Abbé Deruaz. We drove about immensely, sometimes to Ouchy, and a very interesting excursion was going to see Voltaire's house, Mont Morion, occupied by Dr. and Mrs. Niven, whom we knew at Matharan, in India. We also had the pleasure of meeting there the Rev. H. B. Chapman, Father Damien's friend.
On the 25th we went off to Berne to see Mr. and Mrs. Scott, our Minister. It was looking very picturesque and beautiful; the Hôtel Belle Vue comfortable, with lovely views. It was very cold, covered with snow, and the air dry and crisp; in fact, everything was a "Snow Hell." The weather did not hurt Richard; he completely changed. Since Richard had been ill, he was quite a different man to what he had been previously in tastes and feelings. Whereas before he was always cold, and would have fires in the height of summer, now in the bitterest weather a fire in his room made him sick. He would now eat sweet things and drink milk, which in his stronger days he could not look at. He slept, instead of whole nights of insomnia, though often not as well as one could wish. He liked the world and company, whereas before he had shunned the general run of society, and in many other ways was quite different.