called a philosophy, that is, a truth of our own.

In the savage and civilized lands he traversed, he saw religions so
ridiculous, morals so wanton, points of honor so ludicrous, that he
returned home with an indifference, a carelessness about everything,
which adds brilliancy to his wit, but lessens the dignity of his love.

Roger attaches importance to nothing--a bitter sorrow must teach him the
seriousness of life, that everything must not be treated jestingly.
Grief and trouble are needed to restore his faith.

I hope he will be very unhappy when he hears of my inexplicable flight,
and I intend returning for the express purpose of watching his grief;
nothing is easier than to pass several days in Paris _incog_.

My beloved garret remains unrented, and I will there take sly pleasure
in seeing for myself how much respect is paid to my memory--I very much
enjoy the novel idea of assisting at my own absence.

But I perceive that my letter is unpardonably long; also that in
confiding my troubles to you, I have almost forgotten them; and here I
recognise your noble influence, my dear Valentine; the thought of you
consoles and encourages me. Write soon, and your advice will not be
thrown away. I confess to being foolish, but am sincerely desirous of
being cured of my folly. My philosophy does not prevent my being open to
conviction, and willing to sacrifice my logic to those I love.

Kiss my godchild for me, and give her the pretty embroidered dress I
send with this. I have trimmed it with Valenciennes to my heart's
content. Oh! my friend, how overjoyed I am to once more indulge in