in France.  I am glad of it; the rest of Europe will be the quieter, and have time to recover.  England, I am sure, wants rest, for it wants men and money; the Republic of the United Provinces wants both still more; the other Powers cannot well dance, when neither France, nor the maritime powers, can, as they used to do, pay the piper.  The first squabble in Europe, that I foresee, will be about the Crown of Poland, should the present King die:  and therefore I wish his Majesty a long life and a merry Christmas.  So much for foreign politics; but ‘a propos’ of them, pray take care, while you are in those parts of Germany, to inform yourself correctly of all the details, discussions, and agreements, which the several wars, confiscations, bans, and treaties, occasioned between the Bavarian and Palatine Electorates; they are interesting and curious.

I shall not, upon the occasion of the approaching new year, repeat to you the wishes which I continue to form for you; you know them all already, and you know that it is absolutely in your power to satisfy most of them.  Among many other wishes, this is my most earnest one:  That you would open the new year with a most solemn and devout sacrifice to the Graces; who never reject those that supplicate them with fervor; without them, let me tell you, that your friend Dame Fortune will stand you in little stead; may they all be your friends!  Adieu.

LETTER CXCIII

London, January 15, 1754

My dear friend:  I have this moment received your letter of the 26th past from Munich.  Since you are got so well out of the distress and dangers of your journey from Manheim, I am glad that you were in them: 

          “Condisce i diletti
          Memorie di pene,
          Ne sa che sia bene
          Chi mal non soffri.”

They were but little samples of the much greater distress and dangers which you must expect to meet within your great, and I hope, long journey through life.  In some parts of it, flowers are scattered, with profusion, the road is smooth, and the prospect pleasant:  but in others (and I fear the greater number) the road is rugged, beset with thorns and briars, and cut by torrents.  Gather the flowers in your way; but, at the same time, guard against the briars that are either mixed with them, or that most certainly succeed them.

I thank you for your wild boar; who, now he is dead, I assure him, ’se laissera bien manger malgre qu’il en ait’; though I am not so sure that I should have had that personal valor which so successfully distinguished you in single combat with him, which made him bite the dust like Homer’s heroes, and, to conclude my period sublimely, put him into that Pickle, from which I propose eating him.  At the same time that I applaud your valor, I must do justice to your modesty; which candidly admits that you were not overmatched, and that your adversary was about your own age and size.  A Maracassin, being under a year old, would have been below your indignation.  ‘Bete de compagne’, being under two years old, was still, in my opinion, below your glory; but I guess that your enemy was ‘un Ragot’, that is, from two to three years old; an age and size which, between man and boar, answer pretty well to yours.