Letter I

_The Count de St. Julian to the Marquis of Pescara_

_Palermo_

My dear lord,

It is not in conformity to those modes which fashion prescribes, that I

am desirous to express to you my most sincere condolence upon the death

of your worthy father. I know too well the temper of my Rinaldo to

imagine, that his accession to a splendid fortune and a venerable title

can fill his heart with levity, or make him forget the obligations he

owed to so generous and indulgent a parent. It is not the form of sorrow

that clouds his countenance. I see the honest tear of unaffected grief

starting from his eye. It is not the voice of flattery, that can render

him callous to the most virtuous and respectable feelings that can

inform the human breast.

I remember, my lord, with the most unmingled pleasure, how fondly

you used to dwell upon those instances of paternal kindness that you

experienced almost before you knew yourself. I have heard you describe

with how benevolent an anxiety the instructions of a father were always

communicated, and with what rapture he dwelt upon the early discoveries

of that elevated and generous character, by which my friend is so

eminently distinguished. Never did the noble marquis refuse a single

request of this son, or frustrate one of the wishes of his heart. His

last prayers were offered for your prosperity, and the only thing that

made him regret the stroke of death, was the anguish he felt at parting

with a beloved child, upon whom all his hopes were built, and in whom

all his wishes centred.

Forgive me, my friend, that I employ the liberty of that intimacy with

which you have honoured me, in reminding you of circumstances, which I

am not less sure that you revolve with a melancholy pleasure, than I am

desirous that they should live for ever in your remembrance. That

sweet susceptibility of soul which is cultivated by these affectionate

recollections, is the very soil in which virtue delights to spring.

Forgive me, if I sometimes assume the character of a Mentor. I would not

be so grave, if the love I bear you could dispense with less.

The breast of my Rinaldo swells with a thousand virtuous sentiments. I

am conscious of this, and I will not disgrace the confidence I ought to

place in you. But your friend cannot but be also sensible, that you are

full of the ardour of youth, that you are generous and unsuspecting, and

that the happy gaiety of your disposition sometimes engages you with

associates, that would abuse your confidence and betray your honour.

Remember, my dear lord, that you have the reputation of a long list of

ancestors to sustain. Your house has been the support of the throne,

and the boast of Italy. You are not placed in an obscure station,

where little would be expected from you, and little would be the

disappointment, though you should act in an imprudent or a vicious

manner. The antiquity of your house fixes the eyes of your countrymen

upon you. Your accession at so early a period to its honours and its

emoluments, renders your situation particularly critical.

But if your situation be critical, you have also many advantages, to

balance the temptations you may be called to encounter. Heaven has

blessed you with an understanding solid, judicious, and penetrating. You

cannot long be made the dupe of artifice, you are not to be misled by

the sophistry of vice. But you have received from the hands of the

munificent creator a much more valuable gift than even this, a manly and

a generous mind. I have been witness to many such benevolent acts of my

Rinaldo as have made my fond heart overflow with rapture. I have traced

his goodness to its hiding place. I have discovered instances of his

tenderness and charity, that were intended to be invisible to every

human eye.

I am fully satisfied that the marquis of Pescara can never rank among

the votaries of vice and folly. It is not against the greater instances

of criminality that I wish to guard you. I am not apprehensive of a

sudden and a total degeneracy. But remember, my lord, you will, from

your situation, be inevitably surrounded with flatterers. You are

naturally fond of commendation. Do not let this generous instinct be the

means of disgracing you. You will have many servile parasites, who will

endeavour, by inuring you to scenes of luxury and dissipation, to divert

your charity from its noblest and its truest ends, into the means of

supporting them in their fawning dependence. Naples is not destitute of

a set of young noblemen, the disgrace of the titles they wear, who would

be too happy to seduce the representative of the marquisses of Pescara

into an imitation of their vices, and to screen their follies under so

brilliant and conspicuous an example.

My lord, there is no misfortune that I more sincerely regret than the

loss of your society. I know not how it is, and I would willingly

attribute it to the improper fastidiousness of my disposition, that

I can find few characters in the university of Palermo, capable of

interesting my heart. With my Rinaldo I was early, and have been long

united; and I trust, that no force, but that of death, will be able to

dissolve the ties that bind us. Wherever you are, the heart of your St.

Julian is with you. Wherever you go, his best wishes accompany you. If

in this letter, I have assumed an unbecoming austerity, your lordship

will believe that it is the genuine effusion of anxiety and friendship,

and will pardon me. It is not that I am more exempt from youthful folly

than others. Born with a heart too susceptible for my peace, I am

continually guilty of irregularities, that I immediately wish, but am

unable to retract. But friendship, in however frail a bosom she resides,

cannot permit her own follies to dispense her from guarding those she

loves against committing their characters.

Italian Letters, Vols. I and II; Or, The History of the Count de St. Julian · 第 6 / 50 题