Letter from GEORGE PERKINS MARSH to SPENCER FULLERTON BAIRD, dated November 21, 1864.

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Publication InformationTurin Nov 21 64



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Dear Baird

I'll begin by answering that letter you wrote me three years ago about exchanges. I applied to what I then supposed the best authority at Turin, for information, and was referred to a gentleman as the fittest correspondent. Said gentleman I know something of, and when I came to know more, I found him as flat as a pancake, a perfect nullity, & said nothing to him about it. Perhaps you have made an arrangement. If not, here is Prof. Gastaldi, a geologist, who, I have reason to think, will be glad to go into the operation but more of that anon.


We go much into the Alps, being tempted there by the exceeding proximity of them, as well as for other reasons. In

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fact, we are so near, that I often amuse myself, as I sit on my balcony, of an evening, with knocking the icicles off the eaves of that respectable hillock, Monte Rosa, by shying pebbles at 'em. Nay, when it is , I can reach the walls of the mountain with my pipestem. Not that I have a pipe or a nargileh, or even a cigar, or would smoke one if I had, but tis a , a figure of rhetoric, to let you understand how near we are. Considering my age and inches (circumferentially), I am not a bad climber, going up, and down many thousand feet in a day, without overmuch puffing and panting. I have as yet done no greater thing than to go up the Col du Geant, a 'bad [...] to fall from, as I wittily said of the camel's back--but if I could only be allowed time enough to get a little mild training, I would do harder things. Un

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luckily , however, one wants that more than ten days for this, which is all I can get, and than a fortnight's interval takes [...] strength and pluck out of me.


I don't hear much of what is going on in America I am smitten with the vice of unpunctuality in my letter writing, and my correspondents are unpunctualler than I. Out of sight amp;c. Well, we mean to go home next summer, and call 'em to account.


Whether we come back or not depends partly on Mr Lincoln suffering him elected--faith or other things. I should not care to return here but for three reasons. The first is not negotiable to ears polite. The second is that this climate suits my health much better

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than our own. The third is that giving up the Alps seems, to me like giving up all the material world, and neither art nor nature have for me any attractions, that can for a moment, be put in competition with them.


Mrs Marsh has her ups & downs, but is, on the whole, stronger than when you saw her last. She goes in a chaise a porteur, over strange places, and really likes roads that are 'hard to travel', though I sometimes fear she feigns pleasure, to gratify her foolish old husband who is ice-mad.


I know you have better things to do than to write much to us, but letters from you and Mary would delight us hugely. The love of both of us attends you both & yours,


Sincerely yoursGeo P Marsh

Prof S F Baird

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