“Oh! to think that I shall soon be lying on the marble seats of Monaco, in the sun, by the sea!! “Do not be too severely just to me. Write me long letters in return for my short ones; bethink you that I am ill, that your letters do me good; don’t talk nonsense and don’t speak of my composing.... “My kindest regards to your charming sister-in-law and daughter and to your brother. I can see them all so vividly before me. Write soon. Your letter and the SUN will give me new life. “Unfortunate wight that you are! You live in the snow!” _To the Same._ “PARIS, _April 1868_. “MY DEAR STASSOFF,--You call me _Monsieur_ Berlioz, both you and Cui. I forgive you both! “I was nearly killed the other day. I went to Monaco sun-hunting and, three days after in scrambling down the rocks, I fell head first on to my face and bled so profusely that, for a long time, I was unable to get up and go back to the hotel. “However, as I had taken my place in the omnibus to Nice, I was bound to get up and go back there next day. “Hardly arrived there, I wished to see once more the terrace by the sea, of which my recollection was so vivid. I went down and sat there but, in changing my seat, again I fell on my face. Two passers-by lifted me with great difficulty and took me to the Hotel des Etrangers, where I was staying, which was close by. I was put to bed and there I stayed, without a doctor, seeing no one but the servants for a week. “Feeling a little better after my week’s seclusion and damaged as I was, I took the train back to Paris. “My mother-in-law and servant exclaimed with horror on seeing me; but now I have had a doctor and he has treated me so cleverly that, after more than a month of it, I can barely walk, holding on to the furniture. “My nose is nearly all right outside. “Would you kindly find out why my score of the _Trojans_ has not been returned. I suppose the copying is finished and that it is no longer needed. “I can write no more ... if I wait till I am better it may be a long while.... Do write to me. It will be a real charity.” _To_ AUGUSTE MOREL. “PARIS, _26th May 1868_.--I have been greatly tried and find it still hard to write. My two falls, one at Monaco, the other at Nice, have taken all my strength. “The traces are almost gone now, but my old trouble has come back and I suffer more than ever. “I wish I could have seen you and Lecourt when I was near Marseilles; I should have gone round that way had I not been in such a sad state. “Yet to meet you would have upset me more than to see anyone else. Few of my friends loved Louis as you did. I cannot forget it, so you must forgive me.” _To_ WLADIMIR STASSOFF.