BARON CUVIER. 225 



ed with thee, without in the least retarding the 

 end of my journey. At least, believe that I have 

 passed them in my imagination, and that the re- 

 membrance of thy caresses and tender friend- 

 ship will form the happiness of my whole way. 

 I beg of thee to tell Sophie how sensible I was 

 to her adieus ; say the same to my good Clemen- 

 tine : as to George, he only thought of the un- 

 happiness of not having any more betes every 

 evening, but I ask of thee to promise him some, 

 and even to give him some occasionally, as from 

 me, in wood, in lead, or any other solid sub- 

 stance ; for he aptly remarked to me this morn- 

 ing, that the betes in engravings could not stand 

 upright. The poor child does not think how often 

 he may daily meet with betes who do hold them- 

 selves upright. We are quite well, my good friend; 

 we have traversed an agreeable country; and 

 we are in a tolerable inn. Our carriage appears 

 to be quite able to bear the journey; thus, up to 

 this moment, all goes well. Pray to God that 

 this may last ; thou art so good that he cannot 

 refuse thee. Adieu. A thousand tender kisses. 



