eral, I think you would do best not to marry in the provinces.
That would be a way, of course, to settle your uncertainties,
but it would also be a misfortune to deprive yourself of the
greatest blessing, which is hope, Mon ami, I cannot con-
ceive why you have not strength enough to bear ill-fortune.
Paris is the place in the world where one can be poor with
the least privations ; none but fools and tiresome people
need to be rich. — You see now that it was folly to think
you must make the tour of the world in order to write a
good work. Begin it now ; and before it is finished you may
be rich enough to travel. In short, I want you to regard the
lack of fortune as a contrariety, not a misfortune. Mon ami,
if I looked down from the moon I should prefer your talent
to the wealth of M. Beaujon ; I should better like the love
of study than the post of grand-equerry of France. In
other words, being condemned to live, and not being able to
choose the life of a worthy Normandy farmer, I should ask
to have the mind and talent of M. de Gruibert ; but I should
wish to be inspired to make more use of them.
What you tell me of the children of your sister is full of interest and feeling ; but, mon ami, here you are again tormenting yourself about the future. They are well at present, those children ; you see what they have lost, and that worries you. The future of the little boy is less embarrassing ; you know better than I that the education of a provincial college is just as good and just as bad as that of a college in Paris ; and then, mon ami, if he enters a regiment at sixteen it is all the same whether he has been brought up in Bordeaux or iu Paris. What false ideas we have on the first interest of life — happiness ! Ah ! good God ! is it in sharpening the mind, is it in widening ideas, that the happiaess of individuals is made ? — though both are useful in general. But why must your nephew be made happy in your way ? — I feel
