We came into Switzerland a week or ten days ago, & all are enjoying it immensely—the others because the scenery is so fine, & I because they let me lie abed & smoke all day while they do the excursioning. I loathe all travel except on foot—& rheumatism has barred that to a considerable extent. Twichell & I took a stroll of a couple of days in the Black Forest, & another up the Neckar to Heilbron, & another to the summit of the Rigi, where the rheumatism captured me once more & we had to come down with the others by rail. It was a good deal like coming down a ladder by rail. I did not like it.

The tribe are well, just now, though we have had a doctor most of the time since we left home. We have all been in the doctor’s hands, even Rosa. Livy & Miss Spaulding have gone excursioning around the lake in a steamboat, to-day, with the Courier, & Twichell is away on a 3-days trip in the neighboring Alps by himself. I begged off from these dissipations; I had a good many letters to write.