No, none of us has the right to call himself unhappy, or to say that he suffers long or continuous misfortunes, and you are the first to say that, mamma. True, you have had a great loss: you have lost a rare friend, and our tender father, whom none of us has forgotten to this day; And 17 years of uninterrupted, undisturbed happiness that you enjoyed with him, doesn't it mean anything? Can everyone[33] boast of it? No, it must be confessed that we are all ungrateful. We want there to be no limits to our bliss. We believe that there are laws for the world. No, mamma, we should be grateful for all that is good. We must always be firm and calm and not say a word about our misfortunes. I know that you will taste many more joys. Like you, my sister should not be ruined, if she is truly worthy of being called a Christian. You care very much about Olinka. I heartily regret that you cannot give her a decent education. For my part, I would be ready to help with all my might, if it were possible. I have sent a letter to Petersburg to ask the Empress for it, but I doubt that there will be any success, because all the institutes are full, and there is no reception now. You are surprised that I am soon flying from place to place, but I, on the contrary, am surprised that I am moving unusually slowly. You add your conjecture to this at the same moment; But your guesses (don't be angry, mother) have always been inappropriate. You think that I am changing places so soon because I am short of money. Whereas, in that case, I should have sat in one place longer, because it is incomparably more expensive to travel here than to sit in one place. On the road you are here twice as much as ordinary city life. I don't know anything yet about where I'll spend the end of autumn. Now I'm going to Vevey, a small town near Lausanne. Travelers, and especially Russians, come to this city in order to enjoy the treatment of grapes. This form of treatment will probably seem strange to you. The sick eat grapes and nothing else but grapes. A few pounds a day are eaten, a diet is observed, and after that, the grapes, they say, will become so disgusting that you don't want to look at them. I am going to see some acquaintances, and to see a town which, though very small, occupies one of the best places in Switzerland. You can still address letters to me in Lausanne.

As for your remark about Italian women, I will note that I will soon be 30 years old.

As for my health, thank God I am healthy. I pray to God that you, too, along with your sister and nephews, may be healthy.

I wish you all the best, I stay

your grateful son N.

Isn't Danilevsky writing to his mother? Find out and inform me of his address. I have not known anything about him since I parted with him.

Gogol M. I., October 6 / September 24, 1836*

29. M. I. GOGOL. Genéve. 1836, October 6/September 24.

I congratulate you on the upcoming day of your angel. You will surely receive this letter long after it, and therefore my wish will be out of place, and besides, you know it well. We all pray to God to grant you many, many happy years. I'm in Geneva for no more than one day, on the way. I dragged myself through the mountains and am already coming back. There is such an abyss of views and so magnificent that it is impossible to write about them in a letter. Until now, during the whole time of my journey, the clouds have been under my feet. It takes four days to climb to the top of Mont Blanc, one of the highest mountains. Other mountains, also of terrible size, serve as her steps. They are all covered with forest, followed by shrubs, then Mont Blanc begins, where their top ends, which also begins with shrubs, and still higher on it grows only wild grass, and finally, when you climb still higher, one moss, and then all the plants cease, the snows begin, and you find yourself completely in the middle of winter. There is snow in front of you, snow above you, snow around you, the ground below <no>, instead of it you see clouds in several rows. Whole ice walls, through which the sun shines through, hang around. Sometimes cracks are heard with such a strong sound as a thunderclap, and then a whole avalanche flies down, and from above you can hear all the thunder that it makes as it rolls down the mountains and plunges into the valley. The local guides know the time when the avalanche should fall so well that they will tell you even a minute. Rain and thunder are all under your feet, and the sun is above. When I was downstairs, there was rainy weather that lasted for several days; When at last I rose above the distant clouds, the sun was shining and the day was perfectly clear, only it was cold, and a slight frost sparkled with bright sparks in the snow, and instead of a light sertuk, I put on a warm cloak; going down, it became warmer and warmer, at last the clouds passed by, at last the sun hid, at last I found myself again in the rain, I had to take an umbrella and in this way I descended into the valley.

What is your autumn like? Warm days have begun here again, like in summer, and I hasten to take advantage of them again in Vevey, because the climate there is much better than in Geneva. Here, on one and the same lake, one city has a climate no warmer than our Poltava, and another, some fifty versts from it, warmer than Odessa. Here you can constantly admire the costumes of Swiss women. In almost every city, everyone is different and everyone is so good and sits on them as deftly as in pictures. Yesterday I was at Ferney, and visited Walter. I saw his palace, where kings and princes came. A beautiful chestnut alley in three rows leads to it. In front of the house is a small church, with the inscription: Walter to God! His rooms are in the same form. In his bedroom there is even a bed with the same blanket with which he covered himself, which is almost a hundred years old. The same paintings are hanging. Travelers still flock in droves. The garden is beautiful, there is a lot of shade; On one side of it there is a wall with arches made of trimmed trees. Through these arches you can see Mont Blanc, the blue mountains of Savoy, villages and manors in the distance.

Although Geneva is a large and beautiful city and you can spend time in it more cheerfully than in other surrounding places, but not for me, there are a lot of winds and dampness in the air is too perceptible.

Farewell, most honorable mother, until the next letter. Kissing you, I remain your grateful son

Nicholas.