rtakings; we wish, as it is said, to have one foot
on firm land and the other not far off. We must have security; we do not
like risk; doubtful affairs do not please us; we are too prone to look
ahead, and to look ahead is to fear. That is one reason why we send out
no colonies, and that is the reason we have no more children. Are you
satisfied with me?

"Napoleon I was in the habit of saying that, in fighting a battle, he
so ordered matters as to have seventy chances out of a hundred in his
favour; he left the rest to Fate. Ah! brave people, life is a battle,
but the French of to-day will not risk anything. They are the most
honest, the least romantic of men, and I regret it. Read Antoinette this
passage of my letter. Our young people think that they have a right to
the paternal fortune; they consider that their father is wanting in his
duty if he does not leave them a settled position, a certain future.
Their second preconceived notion is that they must find a wife who will
bring them as much at least as they have to offer her. I have so much,
you have so much--we are evidently created for each other; let us marry.
All this is deplorable. I like better to hear of the young American who
only expects from his parents the education necessary for a man to make
his way; he has his tools given to him and the method of using them,
but not a sou. You have learned to swim, my friend--swim. After that he
marries, most frequently a woman who has nothing, and who loves to spend
money. May the God Dollar protect him! he will gaily make an opening
for himself in life, and his wife will give him ten children, who will
follow the same course as their father. Where it is customary for hunger
to marry thirst, there are happy marriages, and a hardy race of people.
In all conscience, am I not romantic enough?

"Let me consider another case. Take a man who has fortune: he profits
thereby to consult his heart only, and offer his name and revenues to
the woman he loves and who has no dower. I clap my hands, I think it the
best of examples, and I regret that it is so seldom practised among
us. In France princes never are seen marrying shepherdesses; on
the contrary, one too often sees penniless sons-in-law carrying off
heiresses, and that is precisely the most objectionable case. In a
romance, or at the theatre, the poor young man who marries a million is
a very noble person; in life it is different. Not if the poor young
man had a professi