Dumont speaks to me in the kindest, most tender, and affectionate manner of our Memoirs; he says he hears from England, and from all who have read them, that they have produced the effect we wished and hoped; the MS. had interested him, he said, so deeply that with all his efforts he could not then put himself in the place of the indifferent public.
M. Vernet, Pictet's son-in-law, mentioned a compliment of a Protestant curé at Geneva to the new Catholic Bishop which French politeness might envy, and which I wish that party spirit in Ireland and all over the world could imitate. "_Monseigneur, vous êtes dans un pays où la moitié du peuple vous ouvre leurs coeurs, et l'autre moitié vous tende les bras."
We have taken a pretty and comfortable caleche for our three weeks' tour with the Moilliets. But I must tell you of our visit to M. and Madame de Candolle; we went there to see some volumes of drawings of flowers which had been made for him. I will begin from the beginning; Joseph Buonaparte, who has been represented by some as a mere drunkard, did, nevertheless, some good things; he encouraged a Spaniard of botanical skill to go over to Mexico and make a Mexican flora; he employed Mexican artists, and expended considerable sums of money upon it; the work was completed, but the engraving had not been commenced when the revolution drove Joseph from his throne. The Spaniard withdrew from Spain, bringing with him his botanical treasure, and took refuge at Marseilles, where he met De Candolle, who, on looking over his Mexican flora, said it was admirably well done for Mexicans, who had no access to European books, and he pointed out its deficiencies; they worked at it for eighteen months, when De Candolle was to return to Geneva, and the Spaniard said to him, "Take the book—as far as I am concerned, I give it to you, but if my government should reclaim it, you will let me have it." De Candolle took it and returned to Geneva, where he became not only famous but beloved by all the inhabitants. This summer he gave a course of lectures on botany, which has been the theme of universal admiration. Just as the lectures finished, a letter came from the Spaniard, saying he had been unexpectedly recalled to Spain, that the King had offered to him the Professorship he formerly held, that he could not appear before the King without his book; and that, however unwilling, he must request him to return it in eight days. One of De Candolle's young-lady pupils was present when he received the letter and expressed his regret at losing the drawings: she exclaimed, "We will copy them for you." De Candolle said it was impossible—1500 drawings in eight days! He had some duplicates, however, and some which were not peculiar to Mexico he threw aside; this reduced the number to a thousand, which were distributed among the volunteer artists. The talents and the industry shown, he says, were astonishing; all joined in this benevolent undertaking without vanity and without rivalship; those who could not paint drew the outlines; those who could not draw, traced; those who could not trace made themselves useful by carrying the drawings backwards and forwards. One was by an old lady of eighty. We saw thirteen folio volumes of these drawings done in the eight days! Of course some were much worse than others, but even this I liked: it showed that individuals were ready to sacrifice their own amour propre in a benevolent undertaking.
De Candolle went himself with the original Flora to the frontier; he was to send it by Lyons. Now the custom-house officers between the territory of Geneva and France are some of the most strict and troublesome in the universe, and when they saw the book they said, "You must pay 1500 francs for this." But when the chief of the Douane heard the story, he caught the enthusiasm, and with something like a tear in the corner of his eye, exclaimed, "We must let this book pass. I hazard my place; but let it pass."
To MISS LUCY EDGEWORTH.
PREGNY, Aug 13, 1820.
Ask to see Lettres Physiques et Morales sur l'Histoire de la Terre et de l'Homme, adressées à la Reine d'Angleterre. Par M. de Luc. 1778.
Ask your mother to send a messenger forthwith to Pakenham Hall to borrow this book; and if the gossoon does not bring it from Pakenham Hall, next morning at flight of night send off another or the same to Castle Forbes, and to Mr. Cobbe, who, if he has not the book, ought to be hanged, and if he has, drawn and quartered if he does not send it to you. But if, nevertheless, he should not send it, do not rest satisfied under three fruitless attempts; let another—not the same boy, as I presume his feet are weary—gossoon be off at the flight of night for Baronstown, and in case of a fourth failure there, order him neither to stint nor stay till he reaches Sonna, where I hope he will at last find it. Now if, after all, it should not amuse you, I shall be much mistaken, that's all. Skip over the tiresome parts, of which there are many, and you will find an account of the journey we are going to make, and of many of the feelings we have had in seeing glaciers, seas of ice and mountains.
I believe I mentioned in some former letter that we had become acquainted with M. Arago, who, in his height and size, reminded us of our own dear Dr. Brinckley, but I am sure I did not tell what I kept for you, my dear Lucy, that you might have the pleasure of telling it to your mother and all the friends around you.
When M. Arago was with us in our excursion to Chamouni, he was speaking of the voyage of Captain Scoresby to the Arctic regions, which he had with him and was reading with great delight. As I found he was fond of voyages and travels, and from what he said of this book perceived that he was an excellent judge of their merits, I asked if he had ever happened to meet with a book called Karamania, by a Captain Beaufort. He knew nothing of our connection with him, and I spoke with a perfect indifference from which he could not guess that I felt any interest about the book, or the person, but the sort of lighting up of pleasure which you have seen in Dr. Brinckley's face when he hears of a thing he much approves, immediately appeared in Monsieur Arago's face, and he said Karamania was, of all the books of travels he had seen, that which he admired the most: that he had admired it for its clearness, its truth, its perfect freedom from ostentation. He said it contained more knowledge in fewer words than any book of travels he knew, and must remain a book of reference—a standard book. Then he mentioned several passages that he recollected having liked, which proved the impression they had made; the Greek fire, the amphitheatre at Sidé, etc. He knew the book as well as we do, and alluded to the parts we all liked with great rapidity and delight in perceiving our sympathy. He pointed out the places where an ordinary writer would have given pages of amplification. He was particularly pleased with the manner in which the affair of the sixty Turks is told, and said, "That marked the character of the man and does honour to his country."