your journey from Manheim, I am glad that you were in them:

"Condisce i diletti
Memorie di pene,
Ne sa che sia bene
Chi mal non soffri."

They were but little samples of the much greater distress and dangers
which you must expect to meet within your great, and I hope, long journey
through life. In some parts of it, flowers are scattered, with profusion,
the road is smooth, and the prospect pleasant: but in others (and I fear
the greater number) the road is rugged, beset with thorns and briars, and
cut by torrents. Gather the flowers in your way; but, at the same time,
guard against the briars that are either mixed with them, or that most
certainly succeed them.

I thank you for your wild boar; who, now he is dead, I assure him, 'se
laissera bien manger malgre qu'il en ait'; though I am not so sure that I
should have had that personal valor which so successfully distinguished
you in single combat with him, which made him bite the dust like Homer's
heroes, and, to conclude my period sublimely, put him into that PICKLE,
from which I propose eating him. At the same time that I applaud your
valor, I must do justice to your modesty; which candidly admits that you
were not overmatched, and that your adversary was about your own age and
size. A Maracassin, being under a year old, would have been below your
indignation. 'Bete de compagne', being under two years old, was still, in
my opinion, below your glory; but I guess that your enemy was 'un Ragot',
that is, from two to three years old; an age and size which, between man
and boar, answer pretty well to yours.