effects will be felt
afterwards; but these fine promises only half reassure us, and we shall
set out again on our travels in very bad spirits.
Our original intention was to spend the autumn in the North of Germany,
but in Madame de Tocqueville's condition it is evident that there is
nothing else to be done but to return home as fast as we can.
We are somewhat consoled by the arrival of our common friend Ampere. He
was returning from Italy, through Germany, and, hearing of our
misfortune, he has come to look after us in these wild mountains of the
Black Forest amidst which Wildbad is situated. He has been with us a
week, and I hope that he will accompany us home.
Our intention is to spend a month or six weeks with my father near
Compiegne. Towards the first week in November we shall establish
ourselves in Paris for the winter. We hope to see you there at the end of
this year or the beginning of next.
Ampere, my wife, and I constantly talk of you. If you could overhear us I
think you would not be very much dissatisfied. They insist upon being
very particularly remembered to you, and as for me I beg you to believe
in my most sincere attachment.
A. DE TOCQUEVILLE.
Compiegne, January 22, 1855.
It was a long time since I had seen your handwriting, my dear Senior, and
I was beginning to complain of you; your letter therefore was a double
pleasure.
I see that you have resumed your intention of visiting Algiers, and I am
anxious that you should carry it into effect.
I hope that we shall be in Paris when you pass through. We put off our
departure from day to day; not that we are kept by the charms of our
present abode; the house is too small for us and scantily furnished, but
I find it such a favourable retreat for study, that I have great
difficulty in tearing myself away from it.
I hear, as you do, with great satisfaction of the mutual good feeling of
our armies in the Crimea. It far exceeds my expectations.
But I am not equally pleased with your management of the war. The English
ought to know that what has passed and is passing there has sensibly
diminished their moral force in Europe. It is an unpleasant truth, but I
ought not to conceal it from you. I see proofs of it every day, and I
have been struck by it peculiarly in a late visit to Paris, where I saw
persons of every rank and of every shade of political opinion. The heroic
courage of your soldiers was everywhere and unreservedly praised, but
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