CHAPTER XXIX.

THE EFFECT OF YEARS AND EXPERIENCE.--THE ITALIAN CHARACTER.

Godolphin now came almost daily to the astrologer’s abode. He was

shocked to perceive the physical alteration four years had wrought in

his singular friend; and, with the warmth of a heart naturally kind,

he sought to contribute to the comfort and enjoyment of a life that was

evidently drawing to a close.

Godolphin’s company seemed to give Volktman a pleasure which nothing

else could afford him. He loved to converse on the various incidents

that had occurred to each since they met; and, in whatsoever Godolphin

communicated to him, the mystic sought to impress upon his friend’s

attention the fulfilment of an astrological prediction.

Godolphin, though no longer impressed with a belief in the visionary’s

science, did not affect to combat his assertions. He had not, in his

progress through life, found much to shake his habitual indolence in

ordinary affairs; and it was no easy matter to provoke one of his quiet

temper and self-indulging wisdom into conversational dispute. Besides,

who argues with fanaticism?

Since the young idealist had left England, the elements of his character

had been slowly performing the ordination of time, and working their due

change in its general aspect. The warm fountains of youth flowed not so

freely as before the selfishness that always comes, sooner or later,

to solitary men of the world, had gradually mingled itself with all the

channels of his heart. The brooding and thoughtful disposition of his

faculties having turned from romance to what he deemed philosophy, that

which once was enthusiasm had hardened into wisdom. He neither hated men

nor loved them with a sanguine philanthropy; he viewed them with cool

and discerning eyes. He did not think it within the power of governments

to make the mass, in any country, much happier or more elevated than

they are. Republics, he was wont to say, favoured aristocratic virtues,

and despotisms extinguished them: but, whether in a monarchy or

republic, the hewers of wood and the drawers of the water, the

multitude, still remained intrinsically the same.

This theory heightened his indifference to ambition. The watchwords of

party appeared to him ridiculous; and politics in general--what a great

moralist termed one question in particular--a shuttlecock kept up by

the contention of noisy children. His mind thus rested as to all public

matters in a state of quietude, and covered over with the mantle of a

most false, a most perilous philosophy. His appetites to pleasure had

grown somewhat dulled by experience, but he was as yet neither sated

nor discontented. One feeling at his breast still remained scarcely

diminished of its effect, when the string was touched--his tender

remembrance of Constance; and this had prevented any subsequent but

momentary attachment deepening into love. Thus, at the age of seven and

twenty, Percy Godolphin reappears on our stage.

There was a great deal in the Italian character that our traveller

liked: its love of ease, reduced into a system; its courtesy; its

content with the world as it is; its moral apathy as regards all that

agitates life, save one passion--and the universal tenderness, ardour,

and delicacy which, in that passion, it ennobles itself in displaying.

The commonest peasant of Rome or Naples, though not perhaps in the freer

land of Tuscany, can comprehend all the romance and mystery of the most

subtle species of love; all that it requires in England the idle habits

of aristocracy, or the sensitive fibre of genius, even to conceive. And

what is yet stranger, the worn-out debauches, sage with an experience

and variety of licentiousness, which come not within the compass of a

northern profligacy, remains alive to the earliest and most innocent

sentiments of the passion. And if Platonism in its coldest purity exist

on earth, it is among the Aretins of southern Italy.

This unworldly refinement, amidst so much worldly callousness, was a

peculiarity that afforded perpetual amusement to the nice eye and subtle

judgment of Godolphin. He loved not to note the common elements of

character; whatever was most abstract and difficult to analyse, pleased

him most. He mixed then much with the Romans, and was a favourite

amongst them; but, during his present visit to the Immortal City, he did

not, how distantly soever, associate with the English. His carelessness

of show, and the independence of a single man from burdensome

connexions, rendered his income fully competent to his wants; but, like

many proud men, he was not willing to make it seem even to himself, as

a comparative poverty, beside the lavish expenses of his ostentatious

countrymen. Travel, moreover, had augmented those stores of reflection

which rob solitude of ennui.

Godolphin, Complete · 第 29 / 68 章