much rather meet with swords.  In courts he must not turn himself inside out.  All this may, nay must be done, without falsehood and treachery; for it must go no further than politeness and manners, and must stop short of assurances and professions of simulated friendship.  Good manners, to those one does not love, are no more a breach of truth, than “your humble servant” at the bottom of a challenge is; they are universally agreed upon and understood, to be things of course.  They are necessary guards of the decency and peace of society; they must only act defensively; and then not with arms poisoned by perfidy.  Truth, but not the whole truth, must be the invariable principle of every man, who hath either religion, honor, or prudence.  Those who violate it may be cunning, but they are not able.  Lies and perfidy are the refuge of fools and cowards.  Adieu!

P. S. I must recommend to you again, to take your leave of all your French acquaintance, in such a manner as may make them regret your departure, and wish to see and welcome you at Paris again, where you may possibly return before it is very long.  This must not be done in a cold, civil manner, but with at least seeming warmth, sentiment, and concern.  Acknowledge the obligations you have to them for the kindness they have shown you during your stay at Paris:  assure them that wherever you are, you will remember them with gratitude; wish for opportunities of giving them proofs of your ’plus tendre et respectueux souvenir; beg of them in case your good fortune should carry them to any part of the world where you could be of any the least use to them, that they would employ you without reserve.  Say all this, and a great deal more, emphatically and pathetically; for you know ‘si vis me flere’.  This can do you no harm, if you never return to Paris; but if you do, as probably you may, it will be of infinite use to you.  Remember too, not to omit going to every house where you have ever been once, to take leave and recommend yourself to their remembrance.  The reputation which you leave at one place, where you have been, will circulate, and you will meet with it at twenty places where you are to go.  That is a labor never quite lost.

This letter will show you, that the accident which happened to me yesterday, and of which Mr. Grevenkop gives you account, hath had no bad consequences.  My escape was a great one.

LETTER CLXVI

London, May 11, O. S. 1752.

Dear friend:  I break my word by writing this letter; but I break it on the allowable side, by doing more than I promised.  I have pleasure in writing to you; and you may possibly have some profit in reading what I write; either of the motives were sufficient for me, both for you I cannot withstand.  By your last I calculate that you will leave Paris upon this day se’nnight; upon that supposition, this letter may still find you there.