I assure you, my kind papa, that I shall be very careful not to give too much for the whistles. If they have not cost my purse very much, they have taken a big toll from my heart, and your letter proves still better than my own experience or thoughts, that I have often paid a high price for bad whistles. I believed, for instance, that when I loved, one was bound to love me back, since I judged others by the standards of my own soul. I have seldom gotten back the worth of what I gave, which is called paying too much for the whistle. I believed what people said, because they said it, and I did not imagine that one could say one thing while believing another. Of all the whistles, that is the one that cost me the most… I would never finish if I tried to enumerate what I paid then, in follies and in whistles. What consoles me is the fact that if I was duped, I never did the same; I desired what was good, I loved sincerely, and I do not bear my fellow human beings a grudge for their malice. The malicious person must be pitied; he cannot be happy! If we set aside imagination and the errors into which it constantly leads us, if we turn instead to philosophy and reason, we find that there is only one way for man to be happy: it is for him to be good… How are we to be good? By never acting but according to our hearts—by always asking ourselves, before we take an action, whether it is just—by choosing our friends well, and respecting the laws and customs of the country in which we live—by trying to see accurately in every possible respect, and trying to free ourselves from all prejudices and suspicions, without clashing at the same time with the opinions of others—by knowing how to employ ourselves usefully in the position we occupy, as we fulfill its accompanying duties—in a word, by doing what has always been done by my good papa, who paid too much for the whistle only when he was a little child, and who, since that time, has pitied all those who paid more for the whistles than they were worth.

A week from Saturday, my good papa, I will give you a little music, some games of chess, and tea. I intend to return on Thursday the twenty-fifth of this month in time for dinner. Should I tell you how much pleasure it will give me to see you again? No! I would rather let you guess. The only thing I want to say on the subject is that you can be sure that no one in the world is more sincerely attached to you than I, and that consequently you may love me with no fear of giving too much for the whistle.

Mr. Brillon laughed heartily at the whistles. We find that what you call your bad French often adds piquancy to your narration, due to the construction of certain sentences, and the words that you invent. Mr. Brillon, my children, my mother and my brother present you with their respects and kind regards; we all offer, with your permission, a thousand compliments to Monsieur your [grand]son.