man sees the road before him, the less likely he is to lose his way
or take the wrong turn,--the better he can divide his stages and
his resting-places. . .

FROM HIS FATHER.

ORBE, March 25, 1828.

. . .I have had a long talk about you with your uncle. He does not
at all disapprove of your letters, of which I told him the
contents. He only insists, as we do, on the necessity of a settled
profession as absolutely essential to your financial position.
Indeed, the natural sciences, however sublime and attractive, offer
nothing certain in the future. They may, no doubt, be your golden
bridge, or you may, thanks to them, soar very high, but--modern
Icarus--may not also some adverse fortune, an unexpected loss of
popularity, or, perhaps, some revolution fatal to your philosophy,
bring you down with a somersault, and then you would not be sorry
to find in your quiver the means of gaining your bread. Agreed that
you have now an invincible repugnance to the practice of medicine,
it is evident from your last two letters that you would have no
less objection to any other profession by which money is to be
made, and, besides, it is too late to make another selection. This
being so, we will come to an understanding in one word: Let the
sciences be the balloon in which you prepare to travel through
higher regions, but let medicine and surgery be your parachutes. I
think, my dear Louis, you cannot object to this way of looking at
the question and deciding it. In making my respects to the
professor of zoology, I have the pleasure to tell him that his
uncle was delighted with his way of passing his evenings, and