July 7, 1866.
DEAR MOTHER, — I have an hour or two on my hands, and will begin my next week's letter. I am on the wing again, you see, and set for Switzerland. Yesterday I was at Rheims, one of the most interesting towns of France, where all the old kings used to be crowned, and where a good many of them are buried. Its cathedral is a wonderful thing of the richest and noblest Gothic. There are old Roman remains in the town, too. These Romans are everywhere. Then I came on here. I wish you could see Strasburg ; you could hardly find a better specimen of an old town, half French, half German, than this is. It is strange to hear them talking German once more. It seems like last autumn over again. This afternoon I am going to Baden-Baden, the great watering and gaming place. There I shall spend Sunday. Thanks to the submission of Austria, it seems now as if the whole Continent would be open enough to travel. Isn't the news good ? All France is waving with flags for the glory that has come to her in the business. Italy will be the best monument that Louis Napoleon will leave behind him, and it will cover many of his misdeeds. I should like to be in Venetia now, and see their rejoicings.