"

"Not that I know of, Doctor."

"Then he thinks he has nothing to spare; and thinking he has nothing to
spare, and yet prodigally drinking down his money as he does every day,
it seems to me that that gentleman stands self-contradicted, and
therefore is no good example for plain sensible folks like you and me to
follow. My honest friend, if you are poor, avoid wine as a costly
luxury; if you are rich, shun it as a fatal indulgence. Stick to plain
water. And now, my good friend, if you are through with your meal, we
will rise. There is no pastry coming. Pastry is poisoned bread. Never
eat pastry. Be a plain man, and stick to plain things. Now, my friend, I
shall have to be private until nine o'clock in the evening, when I shall
be again at your service. Meantime you may go to your room. I have
ordered the one next to this to be prepared for you. But you must not be
idle. Here is Poor Richard's Almanac, which, in view of our late
conversation, I commend to your earnest perusal. And here, too, is a
Guide to Paris, an English one, which you can read. Study it well, so
that when you come back from England, if you should then have an
opportunity to travel about Paris, to see its wonders, you will have all
the chief places made historically familiar to you. In this world, men
must provide knowledge before it is wanted, just as our countrymen in
New England get in their winter's fuel one season, to serve them the
next."

So saying, this homely sage, and household Plato, showed his humble
guest to the door, and standing in the hall, pointed out to him the one
which opened into his allotted apartment.

CHAPTER VIII.

WHICH HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT DR. FRANKLIN AND THE LATIN QUARTER.

The first, both in point of time and merit, of American envoys was
famous not less for the pastoral simplicity of his manners than for the
politic grace of his mind. Viewed from a certain point, there was a
touch of primeval orientalness in Benjamin Franklin. Neither is there
wanting something like his Scriptural parallel. The history of the
patriarch Jacob is interesting not less from the unselfish devotion
which we are bound to ascribe to him, than from the deep worldly wisdom
and polished Italian tact, gleaming under an air of Arcadian
unaffectedness. The diplomatist and the shepherd are blended; a union
not without warrant; the apostolic serpent and dove. A tanned
Machiavelli in tents.

Doubtless, too, notwithstanding his emi