Quanta vis amicitiæ sit, ex hoc intelligi maximè
Potest: quod ex infinita societate generis humani,
Quam conciliavit ipsa natura, ita contracta res
Est, et adducta in angustum, ut omnis caritas
Aut inter duos, aut inter paucos jungeretur.
CICERO DE AMICITIA.
TRANSLATION.
How great the powerful influence of friendship is may chiefly be
understood from this, that throughout the numerous society of the
human race, which nature herself hath knitted together, yet still
so contracted is the space and narrowed into so small a compass,
that all friendship rests entirely associated either between two
individuals, or solely amid the few.
CICERO ON FRIENDSHIP.
The Duke of Tyrconnel set forth from his splendid mansion in the _Rue
Ducale_, one sunny afternoon to take his usual equestrian exercise; and
while riding onward upon the _boulevards_, or ramparts of Brussels,
which are so delightfully shaded by trees, and enjoying the beautiful
scenery that surrounded him, his horse was rapidly pacing in a full
trot, and his Grace was proceeding without any attendant; when it so
chanced that his horse picked up a stone in one of the fore-feet. The
duke on the instant sprang from his saddle to free the horse's hoof from
this impediment; and while employed in the act, a stranger of noble
deportment and appearance advanced, who had been also enjoying the
fineness of the day in promenading this shady avenue. He most
courteously advanced, and tendered with peculiar politeness, and all the
meet grace and due courtesy of chivalry, to assist the duke by holding
the check-rein of the bridle. When, surprising to behold, the horse
almost instantly loudly neighed, and joyfully licked the stranger's
hand! Our readers will readily guess that this distinguished stranger,
whom this noble animal so instinctively recognised, was no other than
his late valiant master, the truly gallant colonel of the brave
Brandenburgh hussars, who had presented, upon their parting on the
plain of battle, this noble charger to the illustrious duke. The duke
and the stranger had met each other as deadly foes in the direful day of
civil war; and in the dreadful onset of personal combat, performing each
prodigies of valour, they encountered as foes, yet they parted as
friends!--respect, admiration, and love occupying those hearts so lately
swollen by hostile passions. They now were both mutually rejoiced once
more to meet, and soon were locked in a cordial embrace.
"This," said the duke, "certainly, gallant friend unknown, was wholly
unexpected--unhoped for quite!"
"Indeed," rejoined the stranger, "so may it please your Grace, it was
entirely as unexpected as it is now hailed and welcomed by me! And most
happy too am I to remark that no change, no vicissitude of war, nor
variance of politics, nor all the fleeting circumstances of these most
eventful times, have had effect or influence upon your Grace, whom I am
truly happy to observe are still the same, unchanged by circumstance or
time--another Aristippus, whom every situation becomes and every
fortune adorns, be it prosperous or adverse!"
"With equal joy," replied the duke, "I behold thee too unchanged--the
same. Welcome, thrice welcome! my friend, my preserver! Although when
first we met it was the meeting of foes upon the hostile plain, I
wearing the badge of green, and thou the orange scarf of William. We met
as direful foes, but we parted with mutual regard and veneration. The
bow of heaven, which the Creator hath placed on high, is formed of those
glorious tints. It was in the shades of colour only in which we
differed. Ere long may the glorious bow of promise, of hope, and of
peace, irradiate Erin's western sky, until the glowing orange and the
glaring green shall melt and blend, and the primitive colours of the arc
of promise be softened down and subdued into the arc of peace!"[45]
[45]
"Till, like the rainbow's light,
Thy various tints unite,
And form in heaven's sight
One arch of peace!"
THOMAS MOORE.
"Amen, my lord, I say and repeat it most fervently from my heart; and
may heaven yet, in its kindest mercy, grant that some future great,
wise, and liberally-minded monarch of England, forsaking his ease and
quiet, may yet graciously visit the shores of your noble island, as the
harbinger of peace, crowned with the olive and the bay; and without the
aid of the _camera-obscura_ of his courtiers, view with his own royal
eye the wants and sufferings of your poor islanders; and may his royal
and munificent heart heal the wounds and redress the sufferings of those
who can never cease to love him!--for the hearts of your countrymen are
grateful as they are brave. May they yet be placed within the pale of
that Constitution from which they are now debarred!"
"That, gallant Sir, indeed I devoutly wish; and most fully join and
concur in your philanthropic prayer! Wherever a contrary tendency to
what you assert has occurred in Ireland, it has arisen from oppression,
distress, and poverty. For wherever there is no home to be found there
can be no happiness; and it will be too surely found that an oppressed
and starving population are ever fatally prompt to join the standard of
rebellion; for surely the noise and bustle of a camp and the
soul-stirring trumpet are less appalling than the cries of starving
infants in their parent's wretched hovel, open and exposed to all the
winds of heaven, where can be found nor raiment, nor fuel, nor food! But
come, let us change to a more pleasing subject. There," holding up his
hand, "there, noble stranger, is your parting present which you gave me,
your ruby cameo ring of victory. By night and by day, I have never since
ceased to wear it in remembrance of him who gave it."
"And see," said the gallant stranger, (opening his waistcoat,) there is
the diamond star with which you so graciously presented me. It has never
been taken from my heart, where I placed it at the moment when you gave
it me!"
"I feel with force and with gratitude this kind expression of your
feeling; and now I needs must insist that you take back your own noble
steed--he is yours again! He has become, I fain must own, like myself,
somewhat older--I will not say how long!--since last we parted, but it
is no matter! However the noble animal is still in his prime; he is
spirited, and you may observe he looks sleek, his coat is smooth, and
withal in good condition. Meantime, from this you may safely infer that
he hath had no severe master in me; and now I justly restore him to his
rightful owner."
"Nay, nay, my Lord Duke, that cannot be! What once I have presented I
never can consent to receive back again--never! My Lord, it is utterly
impossible! But still I am not unwilling to compromise this mooted point
between us. If so your Grace be inclined, I shall feel much pleasure in
accompanying you occasionally in your equestrian excursions, and then I
will mount once more my _quondam_ war-horse."
"With all my heart, most gracious Sir! And now, gallant and courteous
stranger, having redeemed my gage, I must, without further parley,
beseech to know thy name and rank, for such I am assured belongs to
thee, to learn the name of him to whom I am so vastly--so deeply
indebted, and one whom I so duly estimate and honour!"
"That, my Lord Duke, is easily told, and in a very few words, if worthy
the inquiry.--My name is David Bruce, of Turnberry Castle, in Ayrshire,
a Baronet of Nova-Scotia, whom chance, or fate, or circumstances, all
combined, placed me a volunteer in the Brandenburgh hussars, where I
arose from that humble station to command the regiment, by merits not my
own."
"Pardon my interruption, Sir David Bruce," rejoined the duke, "that is,
in sooth, the only part of thy reply upon which I must put a decided
negative!"
"Well," replied the baronet, with a cheering smile, "your too favourable
construction, my Lord Duke, I may not be prepared to gainsay."
"No, no;" continued the Duke of Tyrconnel, "you could not--you
cannot--it is too palpable--it is too self-evident! Your courage and
powerful arm in the day of battle are strong as your lofty adamantine
mountains, while in peace your heart is soft and tender as the
thistle-down of your own dear native land! Come, come, no reply, young
baronet, you must needs gang with me, as you say in Scotland; and we
must indeed be better acquainted!--You surely will not refuse to dine
with me to-day, when I shall have great pleasure to present you to my
duchess and my daughter as my friend, and the gallant preserver of my
life! Come, Sir David, no ambages, no circumlocution, no apology will I
take! Nay, nay, you must not hide behind the screen of modesty, and
denied or refused I must not be!--So I shall certainly expect you."
"Your Grace's invitation carries with it so much of interest and of
kindness, that it is not for me to refuse such inducements, and I
gratefully and willingly accede to it. My Lord Duke, I shall duly obey
your kind and hospitable summons."
"At three o'clock then," added the duke, "I shall hope for the pleasure
of seeing you at my mansion in the _Rue Ducale_."
Here the duke and the baronet cordially shook hands, and parted; the
duke to resume his ride, and Sir David Bruce to complete his morning's
promenade.
Sir David Bruce, punctual to the hospitable summons, was the first guest
to arrive in due time at the _Maison de Tyrconnel_. As he entered the
drawing-room--"The knight of Chester walls, _le chevalier inconnu_," was
inadvertently vociferated by the duchess, accompanied by the all
wondering chorus of all that were present--"It is astonishing----indeed
it is most astonishing!"
"Amazing, and quite surpassingly strange!" exclaimed Sir Patricius
Placebo, aided with one or two plentiful accompaniments of his
accustomed _recipe_ from his magnificent Carolus snuff-box, which we
often noticed before.
"DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!
A hem!--Indeed quite astonishing!--most surpassingly strange!"
Most true it is that Sir David Bruce was the unknown stranger who
encountered the Duchess of Tyrconnel and family while promenading the
walls of Chester; and he it was who so generously and disinterestedly
had relinquished the packet-boat which had conveyed them to Calais.
The duke said, introducing Sir David Bruce to his duchess, "permit me,
my dear, to present to you and the circle of my family, the noble
gentleman who now stands before you, Sir David Bruce of Turnberry Castle
in Ayrshire, to whose noble courage and generosity of heart I am
indebted for my life in the fatal battle of the Boyne, for such _I_ must
ever consider it. Greet, then, I beseech you, and welcome him! in him
you behold the gallant preserver of my life, and him I hold and shall
reverence as my sincere friend so long as I shall exist!"
"My Lord Duke, I shall most faithfully obey your injunctions," added the
duchess; "but there I must not pause--there remains yet another account
of gratitude beside.--For exclusive of being the protector, my Lord, of
your life, to which, in the first instance, we all owe and duly feel the
deepest gratitude, yet still another debt of obligation remains to be
discharged--I speak of the truly generous relinquishment of the packet
which had been engaged by Sir David Bruce to convey him to Calais, and
which he so nobly and generously relinquished to us! This can never be
forgotten, at least by us, although it possibly may not be so accounted
by Sir David Bruce."
"I really can see no very great merit, my Lady Duchess, in all this; I
conceive I only did what I ought to do, and that any one would have done
for ladies placed under similar embarrassments as you all were
circumstanced. Permit me to inquire how your Grace likes Brussels?"
"Why, well, Sir David, passing well, it is sometimes just a little
_tristè_, and the atmosphere, to be sure, is somewhat humid, but----"
"And yet," said Lady Aylesbury, (who had just then arrived,) with a
malicious smile, rudely interrupting her; "and yet, Madam, it has,
methinks, proved a very convenient _sejour_ for some _gens de
condition_, who have for some years availed themselves of the
privilege, when it would not have proved altogether so prudent----yes,
Madam; altogether so prudent, to have ventured elsewhere!"
"Oh, true, quite true, Lady Aylesbury, I had nearly forgotten it quite;
but for the verity of your remark, _your_ spouse, as well as my own, can
fully attest, as both are placed in the same state of periclitation!"
Lady Aylesbury looked extremely awkward and mortified at this just
rebuke; she bit her nether lip, and hung down her silly head, writhing
under the deserved lash which her malicious remark had provoked.
Sir David Bruce, who happened to be at the other end of the room, and
seated next to Lady Adelaide, said to her in an under tone, "Lady
Aylesbury is so spiteful and malicious, that I am certain she must be
nearly related to Euryale, one of the Gorgons, own-sister to Medusa, who
was subject neither to old age nor death!"
"It would indeed appear so, Sir David," said Lady Adelaide, with a
sportive smile.
The Duke of d'Aremberg at this moment entered the room, who was
introduced in due form to Sir David Bruce; they conversed together, and
seemed mutually pleased with each other.
The Duke d'Aremberg now approached the Duchess of Tyrconnel: "Pray, has
your Grace read the last essay from the pen of----, and what does your
Grace think of its merits?"
"As I do, my Lord Duke, of all his writings, which are only calculated
to produce mischief, deep, dark, and dangerous; every parent should
dread him and his insidious pen--he is the high-priest of infidelity!"
"I knew and anticipated this, for I am always certain to obtain a
satisfactory and a decided opinion from your Grace, whose just judgment
I can so fully rely upon."
When this praise, so deservedly awarded to the duchess, met the ear of
Lady Aylesbury, with a malicious smile she turned her malignant, envious
eye on the duchess, to observe if her Grace was elated by this praise:
but she looked in vain. But these looks passed not unobserved by the
duchess, who deeply blushed, conscious of the mal-motives which
directed them; and conscious too that she every way merited the praise
which was so justly bestowed: she felt pleased, but not elated; she felt
conscious of the talent she possessed, but both her judgment and her
modesty prevented her overrating them.
The dinner passed over pleasantly enough, and the gentlemen not tarrying
long over their glass, soon joined the ladies in the drawing-room. Lady
Adelaide was solicited to play and sing, and complied by seating herself
at the harpsichord, supported on the one side by the Duke d'Aremberg,
and on the other by Sir David Bruce, who was most attentive in turning
over the leaves of the music book, and he seemed quite charmed and
entranced with Lady Adelaide's singing. Indeed it was not difficult to a
bye-stander to discover that this day the Lady Adelaide had achieved a
double conquest, and that she held captive the hearts of the duke and
the baronet.