Томас Джефферсон
The Writings of Thomas Jefferson, Vol. 2 (of 9)
TO M. VAN HOGENDORP
Paris, August 25, 1786.
Sir,—Your favor of the 2d instant has been duly received, and I employ the first moment which has been at my disposal to answer it. The author of the part of the new Encyclopedie which relates to political economy, having asked of me materials for the article "Etat Unis," stating a number of questions relative to them, I answered them as minutely and exactly as was in my power. He has from these compiled the greater part of that article. I take the liberty of enclosing you one of them, which will give you all the details to which your letter refers. I can even refer you to the pages which answer your several questions.
What is the extent of the Congress power in managing the affairs of the United States?
The 6th and 9th articles of the confederation will explain these. Those which it is thought they still need, you will find indicated in this pamphlet, pages 29, 30, and in 31-6, their powers of coercion.
Ques.—What are the expenses of Congress?
Ans.—Page 31-6, and 43-6.
Ques.—Which the revenue?
Ans.—As yet they have no standing revenue; they have asked standing revenues as they shall be noted under a subsequent question. In the meantime they call annually for the sums necessary for the federal government. See pages 43, 44.
Ques.—In which way does the particular State contribute to the general expenses?
Ans.—Congress, once a year, calculate the sum necessary the succeeding year to pay the interest of their debt and to defray the expenses of the federal government. This sum they then apportion on the several States according to the table page 44. And the States then raise each its part by such taxes as they think proper.
Ques.—Are general duties, to be levied by Congress, still expected to be acquiesced to by the States?
Ans.—See page 30, a. New York, the only State which had not granted the impost of 5 per cent., has done it at a late session, but has reserved to herself the appointment of collectors. Congress will not receive it upon that condition. It is believed that New York will recede from this condition. Still, a difficulty will remain; the impost of 5 per cent. not being deemed sufficient to pay the interest of our whole debt, foreign and domestic. Congress asked at the same time (that is in 1783) supplementary funds to make good the deficiency. Several of the States have not yet provided those supplementary funds. Some of those which have provided them, have declared that the impost and the supplementary fund shall commence only when all the States have granted both. Congress have desired those States to uncouple the grants, so that each may come into force separately as soon as it is given by all the States. Pennsylvania has declared this way, that if the impost be granted alone, as that will do little more than pay the interest of the foreign debt, the other States will be less urgent to provide for the interest of the domestic debt. She wishes, therefore, to avail herself of the general desire to provide for the foreign creditors in order to enforce a just attention to the domestic ones. The question is whether it will be more easy to prevail on Pennsylvania to recede from this condition, or the other States to comply with it. The treaties with the Indians have experienced greater delay than was expected. They are, however, completed, and the surveyors are gone into that country to lay out the land in lots. As soon as some progress is made in this, the sale of lands will commence, and I have a firm faith that they will, in a short time absorb the whole of the certificates of the domestic debt.
The Philadelphia Bank was incorporated by Congress. This is, perhaps, the only instance of their having done that which they had no power to do. Necessity obliged them to give this institution the appearance of their countenance, because in that moment they were without any other resource for money. The Legislature of Pennsylvania, however, passed an act of incorporation for the bank, and declared that the holders of stock should be responsible only to the amount of their stock. Lately that Legislature has repealed their act. The consequence is, that the bank is now altogether a private institution, and every holder is liable for its engagements in his whole property. This has had a curious effect. It has given those who deposit money in the bank a greater faith in it, while it has rendered the holders very discontented, as being more exposed to risk, and has induced many to sell out, so that I have heard (I know not how truly) that bank stock sells somewhat below par; it has been said 7 1-2 per cent.; but as the publication was from the enemies of the bank, I do not give implicit faith to it. With respect to the article, "Etats Unis" of the Encyclopedie now enclosed, I am far from making myself responsible for the whole of the article. The two first sections are taken chiefly from the Abbé Raynal, and they are therefore wrong exactly in the same proportion the other sections are generally right. Even in them, however, there is here and there an error. But, on the whole, it is good, and the only thing as yet printed which gives a just idea of the American constitutions. There will be another good work, a very good one, published here soon, by a Mr. Mazzei, who has been many years a resident of Virginia, is well informed and possessed of a masculine understanding. I should rather have said it will be published in Holland, for I believe it cannot be printed here. I should be happy indeed in an opportunity of visiting Holland, but I know not when it will occur. In the meantime, it would give me great pleasure to see you here. I think you would find both pleasure and use in such a trip. I feel a sincere interest in the fall of your country, and am disposed to wish well to either party only as I can see in their measures a tendency to bring on an amelioration of the condition of the people; an increase in the mass of happiness. But this is a subject for conversation. My paper warns me that it is time to assure you of the esteem and respect with which I have the honor to be, dear Sir, your most obedient humble servant.
TO MR. BARCLAY
Paris, September 22, 1786.
Sir,—I was honored a few days ago with the receipt of your letter of August 11th. In my last to you, I informed you that I had proposed to Mr. Adams to avail ourselves of your service at Algiers. I acknowledge that I had no expectation, with our small means, you could effect a treaty there; but I thought their ultimatum might be discovered, and other intelligence obtained which might repay us the trouble and expense of the journey. I wished, also, to know what might be the effect of the interposition of the court of Madrid, now that it is likely to interpose. A letter recently received from Mr. Carmichael informs me, that it is the opinion of the Counts de Florida Blanca and D'Expilly, that nothing can be effected at Algiers till there be a previous treaty with the Ottoman Porte. Independently of that information, Mr. Adams is of opinion, that no good can result at present from a further attempt at Algiers. The Porte, Algiers, Tunis and Tripoli must remain for the further deliberation of Congress. Of course, we have no occasion to trouble you with any further visits to those powers, and leave you at liberty to return here, to London, or to America, as you shall think proper. We are happy that your successful efforts with the Emperor of Morocco have left the Atlantic open to our commerce, and little dangerous.
I have the pleasure to inform you that Mrs. Barclay and family are well, and am, with sentiments of the most perfect esteem and respect, your very humble servant.
TO MR. ADAMS
Paris, September 26, 1786.
Dear Sir,—My last letter to you was dated the 27th of August, since which I have received yours of September 11th. The letter to Mr. Lambe therein enclosed, I immediately signed and forwarded. In mine, wherein I had the honor of proposing to you the mission of Mr. Barclay to Algiers, I mentioned that my expectations from it were of a subordinate nature only. I very readily, therefore, recede from it in compliance with your judgment—that his mission might do more harm than good. I accordingly wrote to Mr. Barclay, that he was at liberty to return to this place, to London, or to America, as he should think best. I now enclose you copies of such letters from him, Mr. Lambe and Mr. Carmichael, as have come to hand since my last to you. I have had opportunities of making further inquiry as to the premium of insurance at L'Orient for vessels bound to or from America, and I find that no additional premium is there required on account of the risk of capture by the Barbary States. This fact may be worth mentioning to American merchants in London.
We have been continually endeavoring to obtain a deduction of the duties on American whale oil. The prospect was not flattering. I shall avail myself of the information contained in your letter to press this matter further. Mr. Barrett has arrived here, and the first object for his relief, is to obtain a dissolution of his former contract. I will thank you for some copies of the Prussian treaty by the first opportunity, and take the liberty of troubling you to forward the packet of letters which Mr. Smith, the bearer of this, will have the honor of delivering to you. I beg the favor of you to present my most respectful compliments to Mrs. Adams, and to be assured yourself of the sentiments of sincere esteem and respect with which I have the honor to be, dear Sir, your most obedient, and humble servant.
TO MR. JAY
Paris, September 26, 1786.
Sir,—The last letters I had the honor of writing you were of the 11th and 13th of August. Since that, I have been favored with yours of July 14th and August the 13th. I now enclose you such letters on the Barclay negotiations as have come to hand since my last. With these, is the copy of a joint letter from Mr. Adams and myself to Mr. Lambe. In mine of August 13th, I mentioned that I had proposed it as a subject of consideration to Mr. Adams, whether the mission of Mr. Barclay to Algiers might answer any good purpose. He is of opinion that it could not. I have, therefore, informed Mr. Barclay, who by this time, is probably in Spain, that he is at liberty to return to this place, to London or America, as he shall think proper. You will perceive by the letter from Mr. Carmichael, that it is the opinion of the Counts de Florida Blanca and D'Expilly, that a treaty with the Ottoman Porte is necessary before one can be made with Algiers. Such a treaty will require presents, not indeed as the price of the peace, but such as are usually made in compliment to their ministers. But as it would be ineffectual towards opening to us the Mediterranean until a peace with Algiers can be obtained, there seems to be no reason for pressing it till there is a prospect of settlement with the Algerines.
Since the death of the King of Prussia, the symptoms of war between the Porte and the Russians and Venetians have become stronger. I think it is the opinion of this court, however, that there will be no war shortly on the Continent. I judge this as well from other information as from the circumstance of a late reduction of their land force. All their military preparations seems to be against a naval war. Nevertheless, their treaty with England has lately taken a sudden start. Declarations have been exchanged between the negotiators in the nature of preliminaries to a definitive treaty. The particulars of these declarations are not yet certainly known.
I was lately asked by the Imperial ambassador whether I had received an answer on the subject of the proposition to our powers to treat with his sovereign. A discrimination which they understand to have been made in America between the subjects of powers having treaties with us and those having none, seems to be the motive of their pressing this matter.
It being known that M. de Calonne, the Minister of Finance, is at his wits' end to raise supplies for the ensuing year, a proposition has been made him by a Dutch company to purchase the debt of the United States to this country for seventy millions of livres in hand. His necessities dispose him to accede to the proposition; but a hesitation is produced by the apprehension, that it might lessen our credit in Europe, and perhaps be disagreeable to Congress. I have been consulted here only by the agent for that company. I informed him that I could not judge what effect it might have on our credit, and was not authorized either to approve or disapprove of the transaction. I have since reflected on this subject. If there be a danger that our payments may not be punctual, it might be better that the discontents which would thence arise should be transferred from a court, of whose good will we have so much need, to the breasts of a private company. But it has occurred to me, that we might find occasion to do what would be grateful to this court, and establish with them a confidence in our honor. I am informed that our credit in Holland is sound. Might it not be possible, then, to borrow the four-and-twenty millions due to this country, and thus pay them their whole debt at once? This would save them from any loss on our account. Is it liable to the objection of impropriety in creating new debts before we have more certain means of paying them? It is only transferring from one creditor to another, and removing the causes of discontent to persons with whom they would do us less injury. Thinking that this matter is worthy of the attention of Congress, I will endeavor that the negotiation shall be retarded till it may be possible for me to know their decision, which, therefore, I will take the liberty of praying immediately.
You will have heard, before this comes to hand, that the parties in the United Netherlands have come to an open rupture. How far it will proceed, cannot now be foreseen. I send you herewith the gazettes of France and Leyden to this date, and have the honor of being, with sentiments of the most perfect esteem and respect, Sir, your most obedient, and most humble servant.
TO THE PREVOT DES MARCHANDS ET ECHEVINS DE PARIS
Paris, September 27, 1786.
Gentlemen,—The commonwealth of Virginia, in gratitude for the services of Major General the Marquis de La Fayette, have determined to erect his bust in their capital. Desirous to place a like monument of his worth, and of their sense of it, in the country to which they are indebted for his birth, they have hoped that the city of Paris will consent to become the depository of this second testimony of their gratitude. Being charged by them with the execution of their wishes, I have the honor to solicit of Messieurs le Prevot des Marchands et Echevins, on behalf of the city, their acceptance of a bust of this gallant officer, and that they will be pleased to place it where, doing most honor to him, it will most gratify the feelings of an allied nation.
It is with true pleasure that I obey the call of that commonwealth, to render just homage to a character so great in its first developments, that they would honor the close of any other. Their country, covered by a small army against a great one, their exhausted means supplied by his talents, their enemies finally forced to that spot whither their allies and confederates were collecting to receive them, and a war which had spread its miseries into the four quarters of the earth, thus reduced to a single point, where one blow should terminate it, and through the whole, an implicit respect paid to the laws of the land; these are facts which would illustrate any character, and which fully justify the warmth of those feelings, of which I have the honor on this occasion to be the organ.
It would have been more pleasing to me to have executed this office in person, to have mingled the tribute of private gratitude with that of my country, and, at the same time, to have had an opportunity of presenting to your honorable body, the homage of that profound respect which I have the honor to bear them. But I am withheld from these grateful duties by the consequences of a fall, which confine me to my room. Mr. Short, therefore, a citizen of the State of Virginia, and heretofore a member of its Council of State, will have the honor of delivering you this letter, together with the resolution of the General Assembly of Virginia. He will have that, also, of presenting the bust at such time and place, as you will be so good as to signify your pleasure to receive it. Through him, I beg to be allowed the honor of presenting those sentiments of profound respect and veneration, with which I am, Gentlemen, your most obedient, and most humble servant.
TO BARON DE STAEL
f Sir,—I have the honor of communicating to your Excellency the copy of a treaty of amity and commerce concluded between the United States of America and his late Majesty the King of Prussia, in the two languages in which it was written, each of which was agreed to be equally original. The exchange of ratifications we made but little before the death of the King. This circumstance, with the delays which have attended the printing and transmitting the copies of the treaty to me, have prevented my making an earlier communication of it to your Excellency, as a mark of the confidence and the respect we bear to the nation whom you so worthily represent here, and with which we have the honor of being allied.
I have the honor to be, with sentiments of the most perfect respect and esteem, your Excellency's most obedient, and most humble servant.
TO MRS. COSWAY
Paris, October 26, 1786.
My Dear Madam,—Having performed the last sad office of handing you into your carriage, at the pavillon de St. Denis, and seen the wheels get actually into motion, I turned on my heel and walked, more dead than alive, to the opposite door, where my own was awaiting me. Mr. Danquerville was missing. He was sought for, found, and dragged down stairs. We were crammed into the carriage, like recruits for the Bastille, and not having soul enough to give orders to the coachman, he presumed Paris our destination, and drove off. After a considerable interval, silence was broke, with a "Je suis vraiment afflige du depart de ces bons gens." This was a signal for a mutual confession of distress. We began immediately to talk of Mr. and Mrs. Cosway, of their goodness, their talents, their amiability; and, though we spoke of nothing else, we seemed hardly to have entered into the matter, when the coachman announced the rue St. Denis, and that we were opposite Mr. Danquerville's. He insisted on descending there, and traversing a short passage to his lodgings. I was carried home. Seated by my fireside, solitary and sad, the following dialogue took place between my Head and my Heart.
Head. Well, friend, you seem to be in a pretty trim.
Heart. I am indeed the most wretched of all earthly beings. Overwhelmed with grief, every fibre of my frame distended beyond its natural powers to bear, I would willingly meet whatever catastrophe should leave me no more to feel, or to fear.
Head. These are the eternal consequences of your warmth and precipitation. This is one of the scrapes into which you are ever leading us. You confess your follies, indeed; but still you hug and cherish them; and no reformation can be hoped where there is no repentance.
Heart. Oh, my friend! this is no moment to upbraid my foibles. I am rent into fragments by the force of my grief! If you have any balm, pour it into my wounds; if none, do not harrow them by new torments. Spare me in this awful moment! At any other, I will attend with patience to your admonitions.
Head. On the contrary, I never found that the moment of triumph, with you, was the moment of attention to my admonitions. While suffering under your follies, you may perhaps be made sensible of them, but the paroxysm over, you fancy it can never return. Harsh, therefore, as the medicine may be, it is my office to administer it. You will be pleased to remember, that when our friend Trumbull used to be telling us of the merits and talents of these good people, I never ceased whispering to you that we had no occasion for new acquaintances; that the greater their merits and talents, the more dangerous their friendship to our tranquillity, because the regret at parting would be greater.
Heart. Accordingly, Sir, this acquaintance was not the consequence of my doings. It was one of your projects, which threw us in the way of it. It was you, remember, and not I, who desired the meeting at Legrand and Motinos. I never trouble myself with domes nor arches. The Halle aux bleds might have rotted down, before I should have gone to see it. But you, forsooth, who are eternally getting us to sleep with your diagrams and crotchets, must go and examine this wonderful piece of architecture; and when you had seen it, oh! it was the most superb thing on earth! What you had seen there was worth all you had yet seen in Paris! I thought so too. But I meant it of the lady and gentleman to whom we had been presented; and not of a parcel of sticks and chips put together in pens. You, then, Sir, and not I, have been the cause of the present distress.
Head. It would have been happy for you if my diagrams and crotchets had gotten you to sleep on that day, as you are pleased to say they eternally do. My visit to Legrand and Motinos had public utility for its object. A market is to be built in Richmond. What a commodious plan is that of Legrand and Motinos; especially, if we put on it the noble dome of the Halle aux bleds. If such a bridge as they showed us can be thrown across the Schuylkill, at Philadelphia, the floating bridges taken up, and the navigation of that river opened, what a copious resource will be added, of wood and provisions, to warm and feed the poor of that city? While I was occupied with these objects, you were dilating with your new acquaintances, and contriving how to prevent a separation from them. Every soul of you had an engagement for the day. Yet all these were to be sacrificed, that you might dine together. Lying messengers were to be despatched into every quarter of the city, with apologies for your breach of engagement. You, particularly, had the effrontery to send word to the Dutchess Danville, that on the moment we were setting out to dine with her, despatches came to hand, which required immediate attention. You wanted me to invent a more ingenious excuse; but I knew you were getting into a scrape, and I would have nothing to do with it. Well; after dinner to St. Cloud, from St. Cloud to Ruggieri's, from Ruggieri's to Krumfoltz; and if the day had been as long as a Lapland summer day, you would still have contrived means among you to have filled it.
Heart. Oh! my dear friend, how you have revived me by recalling to my mind the transactions of that day! How well I remember them all, and that, when I came home at night, and looked back to the morning, it seemed to have been a month agone. Go on, then, like a kind comforter, and paint to me the day we went to St. Germains. How beautiful was every object! the Port de Reuilly, the hills along the Seine, the rainbows of the machine of Marly, the terrace of St. Germains, the chateaux, the gardens, the statues of Marly, the pavillon of Lucienne. Recollect, too, Madrid, Bagatelle, the King's garden, the Dessert. How grand the idea excited by the remains of such a column. The spiral staircase, too, was beautiful. Every moment was filled with something agreeable. The wheels of time moved on with a rapidity, of which those of our carriage gave but a faint idea. And yet, in the evening, when one took a retrospect of the day, what a mass of happiness had we travelled over! Retrace all those scenes to me, my good companion, and I will forgive the unkindness with which you were chiding me. The day we went to St. Germains was a little too warm, I think; was it not?
Head. Thou art the most incorrigible of all the beings that ever sinned! I reminded you of the follies of the first day, intending to deduce from thence some useful lessons for you; but instead of listening to them, you kindle at the recollection, you retrace the whole series with a fondness, which shows you want nothing, but the opportunity, to act it over again. I often told you, during its course, that you were imprudently engaging your affections, under circumstances that must have cost you a great deal of pain; that the persons, indeed, were of the greatest merit, possessing good sense, good humor, honest hearts, honest manners, and eminence in a lovely art; that the lady had, moreover, qualities and accomplishments belonging to her sex, which might form a chapter apart for her; such as music, modesty, beauty, and that softness of disposition, which is the ornament of her sex and charm of ours; but that all these considerations would increase the pang of separation; that their stay here was to be short; that you rack our whole system when you are parted from those you love, complaining that such a separation is worse than death, inasmuch as this ends our sufferings, whereas that only begins them; and that the separation would, in this instance, be the more severe, as you would probably never see them again.
Heart. But they told me they would come back again, the next year.
Head. But, in the meantime, see what you suffer; and their return, too, depends on so many circumstances, that if you had a grain of prudence, you would not count upon it. Upon the whole, it is improbable, and therefore you should abandon the idea of ever seeing them again.
Heart. May heaven abandon me if I do!
Head. Very well. Suppose, then, they come back. They are to stay two months, and, when these are expired, what is to follow? Perhaps you flatter yourself they may come to America?
Heart. God only knows what is to happen. I see nothing impossible in that supposition; and I see things wonderfully contrived sometimes, to make us happy. Where could they find such objects as in America, for the exercise of their enchanting art? especially the lady, who paints landscapes so inimitably. She wants only subjects worthy of immortality, to render her pencil immortal. The Falling Spring, the Cascade of Niagara, the passage of the Potomac through the Blue Mountains, the Natural Bridge; it is worth a voyage across the Atlantic to see these objects; much more to paint, and make them, and thereby ourselves, known to all ages. And our own dear Monticello; where has nature spread so rich a mantle under the eye? mountains, forests, rocks, rivers. With what majesty do we there ride above the storms! How sublime to look down into the workhouse of nature, to see her clouds, hail, snow, rain, thunder, all fabricated at our feet! and the glorious sun when rising as if out of a distant water, just gilding the tops of the mountains, and giving life to all nature! I hope in God, no circumstance may ever make either seek an asylum from grief! With what sincere sympathy I would open every cell of my composition, to receive the effusion of their woes! I would pour my tears into their wounds; and if a drop of balm could be found on the top of the Cordilleras, or at the remotest sources of the Missouri, I would go thither myself to seek and to bring it. Deeply practised in the school of affliction, the human heart knows no joy which I have not lost, no sorrow of which I have not drunk! Fortune can present no grief of unknown form to me! Who, then, can so softly bind up the wound of another, as he who has felt the same wound himself? But heaven forbid they should ever know a sorrow! Let us turn over another leaf, for this has distracted me.
Head. Well. Let us put this possibility to trial then, on another point. When you consider the character which is given of our country, by the lying newspapers of London, and their credulous copiers in other countries; when you reflect that all Europe is made to believe we are a lawless banditti, in a state of absolute anarchy, cutting one another's throats, and plundering without distinction, how could you expect that any reasonable creature would venture among us?
Heart. But you and I know that all this is false: that there is not a country on earth, where there is greater tranquillity; where the laws are milder, or better obeyed; where every one is more attentive to his own business, or meddles less with that of others; where strangers are better received, more hospitably treated, and with a more sacred respect.
Head. True, you and I know this, but your friends do not know it.
Heart. But they are sensible people, who think for themselves. They will ask of impartial foreigners, who have been among us, whether they saw or heard on the spot, any instance of anarchy. They will judge, too, that a people, occupied as we are, in opening rivers, digging navigable canals, making roads, building public schools, establishing academies, erecting busts and statues to our great men, protecting religious freedom, abolishing sanguinary punishments, reforming and improving our laws in general; they will judge, I say, for themselves, whether these are not the occupations of a people at their ease; whether this is not better evidence of our true state, than a London newspaper, hired to lie, and from which no truth can ever be extracted but by reversing everything it says.
Head. I did not begin this lecture, my friend, with a view to learn from you what America is doing. Let us return, then, to our point. I wish to make you sensible how imprudent it is to place your affections, without reserve, on objects you must so soon lose, and whose loss, when it comes, must cost you such severe pangs. Remember the last night. You knew your friends were to leave Paris to-day. This was enough to throw you into agonies. All night you tossed us from one side of the bed to the other; no sleep, no rest. The poor crippled wrist, too, never left one moment in the same position; now up, now down, now here, now there; was it to be wondered at, if its pains returned? The surgeon then was to be called, and to be rated as an ignoramus, because he could not divine the cause of this extraordinary change. In fine, my friend, you must mend your manners. This is not a world to live at random in, as you do. To avoid those eternal distresses, to which you are forever exposing us, you must learn to look forward, before you take a step which may interest our peace. Everything in this world is matter of calculation. Advance then with caution, the balance in your hand. Put into one scale the pleasures which any object may offer; but put fairly into the other, the pains which are to follow, and see which preponderates. The making an acquaintance, is not a matter of indifference. When a new one is proposed to you, view it all round. Consider what advantages it presents, and to what inconveniences it may expose you. Do not bite at the bait of pleasure, till you know there is no hook beneath it. The art of life is the art of avoiding pain; and he is the best pilot, who steers clearest of the rocks and shoals with which it is beset. Pleasure is always before us; but misfortune is at our side: while running after that, this arrests us. The most effectual means of being secure against pain, is to retire within ourselves, and to suffice for our own happiness. Those which depend on ourselves, are the only pleasures a wise man will count on: for nothing is ours, which another may deprive us of. Hence the inestimable value of intellectual pleasures. Ever in our power, always leading us to something new, never cloying, we ride serene and sublime above the concerns of this mortal world, contemplating truth and nature, matter and motion, the laws which bind up their existence, and that Eternal Being who made and bound them up by those laws. Let this be our employ. Leave the bustle and tumult of society to those who have not talents to occupy themselves without them. Friendship is but another name for an alliance with the follies and the misfortunes of others. Our own share of miseries is sufficient: why enter then as volunteers into those of another? Is there so little gall poured into our cup, that we must need help to drink that of our neighbor? A friend dies, or leaves us: we feel as if a limb was cut off. He is sick: we must watch over him, and participate of his pains. His fortune is shipwrecked: ours must be laid under contribution. He loses a child, a parent, or a partner: we must mourn the loss as if it were our own.
