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Subject Area: Political Theory
Subject Area: History
Collection: Banned Books

LETTER CXXXII.: Rica to * * *. - Charles Louis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu, Complete Works, vol. 3 (Grandeur and Declension of the Roman Empire; A Dialogue between Sylla and Eucrates; Persian Letters) [1721]

Edition used:

The Complete Works of M. de Montesquieu (London: T. Evans, 1777), 4 vols. Vol. 3.

Part of: Complete Works of Montesquieu, 4 vols.

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LETTER CXXXII.

Rica to * * *.

I HAPPENED to be five or six months ago in a coffee-house: there I observed a gentleman tolerably well dressed, who had got an audience about him; he spoke of the pleasure of living at Paris; he lamented the necessity he lay under of retiring to languish away his life in the country. I have, said he, an estate of fifteen thousand livres a-year in land; and I should think myself much more happy, if I had one quarter of it in money and portable effects. It is to no purpose for me to bear hard upon my tenants, and put them to expence by frequent law-suits, this only makes them less able to pay. I can never see a hundred pistoles at a time. If I was to owe ten thousand livres, all my land would be seized on, and I should be reduced to an hospital. I went out without giving much attention to all this conversation; but happening to be yesterday in the same part of the town, I entered the same house, and I there saw a grave man, with a long pale visage, who sat melancholy and pensive in the midst of five or six praters; at length beginning somewhat abruptly, he said, with a loud voice, Gentlemen, I am ruined, I have nothing left to live upon; for I have now at home two hundred thousand livres in bank-bills, and a hundred thousand crowns in money: I am in a most melancholy situation; I thought myself rich, and now I find myself reduced to beggary; if I had but a small estate in the country to retire to, I should at least be secure of a subsistence; but I have not the breadth of this hat in land. Happening to turn my head on the other side, I saw a man who made such grimaces, that one would have thought him possessed. Who can we trust for the future? exclaimed he. There is a villain whom I had so good an opinion of, and thought so sincerely my friend, that I lent him money: he paid me again! what black persidy and ingratitude is this? let him do what he will, he will never be able to retrieve my good opinion. Near him was a man very ill dressed, who listing up his eyes to heaven, said, God prosper the projects of our ministers, may the actions rise to two thousand livres, and the footmen of Paris be richer than their masters! I had the curiosity to ask his name. The answer I received was, he is a very poor man, and has a poor trade: he is a genealogist, and he hopes that his art will become profitable, if these changes of fortune continue, and that all the new rich will have occasion for him to reform their names, furbish up their ancestors, and adorn their coaches. He has a notion that he will have it in his power to make as many persons of quality as he thinks proper, and he exults within himself to think, that the number of his customers will increase. At last I saw an old man enter, pale and thin, whom I knew to be a coffee-house politician before he sat down: he was not one of those who are never to be intimidated by disasters, but always prophecies of victories and success; he was one of those timorous wretches who are always boding ill. Our affairs, said he, are in a very bad situation in Spain, we have no horse upon the frontiers; and it is to be feared that the prince Pio, who has a considerable body, will levy contributions upon the whole province of Languedoc. There sat opposite to me a philosopher of a tolerably shabby appearance, who seemed to despise the politician, and shrugged his shoulders in token of contempt, whilst the other elevated the tone of his voice. I approached him, and he whispered in my ear, you see how that coxcomb talks of his apprehensions for Languedoc: and I for my part yesterday perceived a spot in the sun, which, if it should increase, might cause a general dissolution of nature, and yet I did not say a single word about it.