Good-bye. Keep well, and do not go out too much at night.
CCXI
Paris, Sunday night, March 12, 1860.
... I find your Paris atmosphere extremely heavy, and I have a continual headache. I have as yet seen no one, and dare not go out at night. It seems to me extraordinary to make calls at ten o’clock at night.
No word about the book of my friend, M. de Gobineau; certainly it must hang heavy on your conscience. Suggest a novel for me to read; I am in deep need of one. While in Cannes I read a novel by Bulwer, What will He do with It? which seemed to me senile to the last degree. At the same time, it contains several pretty situations and an excellent sermon. As for the hero and heroine, they surpass in silliness all that is permissible by custom.
A book which has amused me uncommonly is the work of M. de Bunsen on the origin of Christianity, and about everything else in the universe, to speak more exactly. It is called, however, Christianity and Mankind, and is only seven volumes of from seven to eight hundred pages each. M. de Bunsen calls himself an orthodox Christian; but at the same time he treats the Old and New Testaments with contempt....
I learned yesterday, that at one of the most recent masked balls a woman had the courage to appear in a costume of 1806 without any crinoline, and produced a tremendous sensation.
CCXII
Paris, March 4, 1860.
We had yesterday the first suggestion of the return of spring. It did me a great deal of good, and I felt entirely made over. It seemed as if I were breathing the air of Cannes. To-day it is gray and gloomy. I need you very much, to take life patiently. Day by day it becomes more burdensome. People are so terribly stupid. The most inexplicable thing is the general ignorance one finds in this century of enlightenment, as it calls itself modestly. No one any longer knows a word of history.