PARIS, March, 1832.
. . .Here is the book for which you asked me,—price, 18 francs. I shall be very sorry if it comes too late, but I could not help it . . .In the first place I had not money enough to pay for it without being left actually penniless. You can imagine that after the fuel bill for the winter is paid, little remains for other expenses out of my 200 francs a month, five louis of which are always due to my companion. Far from having anything in advance, my month's supply is thus taken up at once. . .Beside this cause of delay, you can have no idea what it is to hunt for anything in Paris when you are a stranger there. As I go out only in two or three directions leading to my work, and might not otherwise leave my own street for a month at a time, I naturally find myself astray when I am off this beaten track. . .You have asked me several times how I have been received by those to whom I had introductions. Frankly, after having delivered a few of my letters, I have never been again, because I cannot, in my position, spare time for visits. . . Another excellent reason for staying away now is that I have no presentable coat. At M. Cuvier's only am I sufficiently at ease to go in a frock coat. . .Saturday, a week ago, M. de Ferussac offered me the editorship of the zoological section of the "Bulletin;" it would be worth to me an additional thousand francs, but would require two or three hours' work daily. Write me soon what you think about it. In the midst of all the encouragements which sustain me and renew my ardor, I am depressed by the reverse side of my position.
This letter drew forth the following one.
FROM HIS MOTHER.
CONCISE, March, 1832.
. . .Much as your letter to your uncle delighted us, that to your brother has saddened us. It seems, my dear child, that you are painfully straitened in means. I understand it by personal experience, and in your case I have foreseen it; it is the cloud which has always darkened your prospects to me. I want to talk to you, my dear Louis, of your future, which has often made me anxious. You know your mother's heart too well to misunderstand her thought, even should its expression be unacceptable to you. With much knowledge, acquired by assiduous industry, you are still at twenty-five years of age living on brilliant hopes, in relation, it is true, with great people, and known as having distinguished talent. Now, all this would seem to me delightful if you had an income of fifty thousand francs; but, in your position, you must absolutely have an occupation which will enable you to live, and free you from the insupportable weight of dependence on others. From this day forward, my dear child, you must look to this end alone if you would find it possible to pursue honorably the career you have chosen. Otherwise constant embarrassments will so limit your genius, that you will fall below your own capacity. If you follow our advice you will perhaps reach the result of your work in the natural sciences a little later, but all the more surely. Let us see how you can combine the work to which you have already consecrated so much time, with the possibility of self-support. It appears from your letter to your brother that you see no one in Paris; the reason seems to me a sad one, but it is unanswerable, and since you cannot change it, you must change your place of abode and return to your own country. You have already seen in Paris all those persons whom you thought it essential to see; unless you are strangely mistaken in their good-will, you will be no less sure of it in Switzerland than in Paris, and since you cannot take part in their society, your relations with them will be the same at the distance of a hundred leagues as they are now. You must therefore leave Paris for Geneva, Lausanne, or Neuchatel, or any city where you can support yourself by teaching. . .This seems to me the most advantageous course for you. If before fixing yourself permanently you like to take your place at the parsonage again, you will always find us ready to facilitate, as far as we can, any arrangements for your convenience. Here you can live in perfect tranquillity and without expense.
There are two other subjects which I want to discuss with you, though perhaps I shall not make myself so easily understood. You have seen the handsome public building in process of construction at Neuchatel. It will be finished this year, and I am told that the Museum will be placed there. I believe the collections are very incomplete, and the city of Neuchatel is rich enough to expend something in filling the blanks. It has occurred to me, my dear, that this would be an excellent opportunity for disposing of your alcoholic specimens. They form, at present, a capital yielding no interest, requiring care, and to be enjoyed only at the cost of endless outlay in glass jars, alcohol, and transportation, to say nothing of the rent of a room in which to keep them. All this, beside attracting many visitors, is too heavy a burden for you, from which you may free yourself by taking advantage of this rare chance. To this end you must have an immediate understanding with M. Coulon, lest he should make a choice elsewhere. Your brother, being on the spot, might negotiate for you. . .Finally, my last topic is Mr. Dinkel. You are very fortunate to have found in your artist such a thoroughly nice fellow; nevertheless, in view of the expense, you must make it possible to do without him. I see you look at me aghast; but where a sacrifice is to be made we must not do it by halves; we must pull up the tree by the roots. It is a great evil to be spending more than one earns. . .
TO HIS MOTHER.
PARIS, March 25, 1832.
. . .It is true, dear mother, that I am greatly straitened; that I have much less money to spend than I could wish, or even than I need; on the other hand, this makes me work the harder, and keeps me away from distractions which might otherwise tempt me. . .With reference to my work, however, things are not quite as you suppose, as regards either my stay here or my relations with M. Cuvier. Certainly, I hope that I should lose neither his good-will nor his protection on leaving here; on the contrary, I am sure that he would be the first to advise me to accept any professorship, or any place which might be advantageous for me, however removed from my present occupations, and that his counsels would follow me there. But what cannot follow me, and what I owe quite as much to him, is the privilege of examining all the collections. These I can have nowhere but in Paris, since even if he would consent to it I could not carry away with me a hundred quintals of fossil fish, which, for the sake of comparison, I must have before my eyes, nor thousands of fish-skeletons, which would alone fill some fifty great cases. It is this which compels me to stay here till I have finished my work. I should add that M. Elie de Beaumont has also been kind enough to place at my disposition the fossil fishes from the collection at the Mining School, and that M. Brongniart has made me the same offer regarding his collection, which is one of the finest among those owned by individuals in Paris. . .