When he had uttered the last words, he resumed the perusal of his letter, which ended thus: "Will you permit me to give you a piece of advice, M.le Comte, a good little piece of advice?
I have known you for three years, and have taken much interest in your welfare.

You invent guns, which, when they are strong, lack lightness.

I beg your pardon, but I do not comprehend you, M.le Comte.

The name you bear is excellent; the head you carry on your shoulders is superb, and it is the general opinion that you resemble _Faust_; but neither name nor head does you any good.

Leave the guns as they are, and bestow your attention upon women; they, and they alone, can draw you out of the deep waters where you are now floundering.