. . .I am perfectly well and as happy as possible, for I feed in
clover here on my favorite studies, with every facility at my
command. If you thought my New Year's letter depressed, it was only
a momentary gloom due to the memories awakened by the day. . .

FROM HIS FATHER.

ORBE, February 21, 1828.

Your mother's last letter, my dear Louis, was in answer to one from
you which crossed it on the way, and gave us, so far as your health
and contentment are concerned, great satisfaction. Yet our
gratification lacks something; it would be more complete had you
not a mania for rushing full gallop into the future. I have often
reproved you for this, and you would fare better did you pay more
attention to my reproof. If it be an incurable malady with you, at
all events do not force your parents to share it. If it be
absolutely essential to your happiness that you should break the
ice of the two poles in order to find the hairs of a mammoth, or
that you should dry your shirt in the sun of the tropics, at least
wait till your trunk is packed and your passports are signed before
you talk with us about it. Begin by reaching your first aim, a
physician's and surgeon's diploma. I will not for the present hear
of anything else, and that is more than enough. Talk to us, then in
your letters, of your friends, of your personal life, of your wants
(which I am always ready to satisfy), of your pleasures, of your
feeling for us, but do not put yourself out of our reach with your
philosophical syllogisms. My own philosophy is to fulfill my duties
in my sphere, and even that gives me more than I can do. . .