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Dear Powers

I suppose you are by this time back at Florence, though I have not heard of your return. I have received two pamphlets on water-glass in German. I believe some of your young folks read German, & they will be able to translate as much of them as you wish. If the half of what is said of water-glass be true, it is worth more than fluid gold, weight for weight. I send the pamphlets by -------------------------------- Page -------------------------------- mail. I send, also, a copy of my First Series of lectures on English. The Second Series is to be published in London, on the 15' of September, at which time I must be on the spot. I shall furnish you with a copy of that also, but mind, you aren't obliged to read any more of this dreary stuff than you choose.

Per contra. To compensate for this heavy-wet matter I forward also Mrs Marsh's rhymes, which I think deserve a better success than they have had. The translations, at least, I -------------------------------- Page -------------------------------- can vouch for as excellent.

After I saw you, we went to Cormayeur at the foot of Mount Blanc. Mrs M. was confined to her bed all the time we stayed there, but on the way back, she climbed to the height of about 9000 feet near Aosta. After this, she was sick again, several days, at St Vincent. When she got a little better, we started for an excursion, but she broke down, & we had to return to St Vincent. After two days we made another attempt, and crossed the Col de Jon and the Col de Ranzola to Germany, went up to the Lys glacier, and then crossed the Col d'Ollen, 9600 feet high to -------------------------------- Page -------------------------------- Alagna. Mrs M went partly on mules, & partly in a chair carried by men. This last was a hard job but we are going into the mountains again, probably on Monday, for a couple of weeks. I think Mrs M. will stay in Switzerland while I go to London--.

Bad news from America, but I never doubted that McClellan would be beaten. We shall never win a victory until we make a human sacrifice to Justice. If the people would rise and hang old Buchanan, and Peirce and McClellan, & a few more, we might do something, but Providence will never be on our side till we punish some of the wicked.

Yours truly

[The following appears at the top of the page beginning "Turin Aug. 14 62"] P.S. I find I cannot send Mrs M's book just now, not having a copy at hand at the hotel where, since we were turned out of doors, we are stopping.

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