_The Same to the Same_
_Naples_
Could I ever have imagined, my dear count, that in so short a time the
correspondence between us would have been so much neglected? I have
yet received no answer to my last letter, upon a subject particularly
interesting, and in which I had some reason to fear your disapprobation.
My St. Julian lives in the obscurity of retreat, and in the solitude
most favourable to literary pursuits. What avocations can have called
off his attention from the interests of his friend? May I be permitted
however to draw one conclusion from your silence, that you do not
consider my situation as critical and alarming? That although you join
the prudent severity of a monitor with the candid partiality of a
friend, you yet view my faults in a venial light, and are disposed to
draw over them the veil of indulgence?
I might perhaps deduce a fairer apology for the silence on my part from
my new situation, the avocations incident to my rank and fortune, and
the pleasures that abound in a city and a court so celebrated as that
of Naples. But I will not attempt an apology. The novelty of these
circumstances have diverted my attention more than they ought from the
companion of my studies and the friend of my youth, but I trust I shall
never forget him. I have met with companions more gay, and consorts more
obsequious, but I have never found a character so worthy, and a friend
so sincere.
Since I last addressed my St. Julian, I have been engaged in various
scenes both of a pleasurable and a serious kind. I think I am guilty of
no undue partiality to my own conduct when I assure you, that I have
embarked in the lighter pursuits of associates of my own age without
having at any time forgotten what was due to the lustre of my ancestry,
and the favour of my sovereign. I have not injured my reputation. I
have mingled business and pleasure, so as not to sacrifice that which
occupies the first place, to that which holds only the second.
I trust that my St. Julian knows me too well, to suppose that I would
separate philosophy and practice, reason and action from each other. It
was by the instructions of my friend, that I learned to rise superior
to the power of prejudice, to reject no truth because it was novel, to
refuse my ear to no arguments because they were not backed by pompous
and venerable names. In pursuance of this system, I have ventured in
my last to suggest some reasons in favour of a moderate indulgence of
youthful pleasures. Perhaps however my dear count will think, that I am
going beyond what even these reasons would authorize in the instance I
am about to relate.
You are not probably to be informed that there are a certain kind of
necessary people, dependents upon such young noblemen as San Severino
and his friends, upon whom the world has bestowed the denomination
of pimps. One of these gentlemen seemed of late to feel a particular
partiality to myself. He endeavoured by several little instances of
officiousness to become useful to me. At length he told me of a young
person extremely beautiful and innocent, whose first favours he believed
he could engage to procure in my behalf.
At that idea I started. "And do you think, my good friend," said I,
"because you are acquainted with my having indulged to some of those
pleasures inseparable from my age, that I would presume to ruin
innocence, and be the means of bringing upon a young person so much
remorse and such an unhappy way of life, as must be the inevitable
consequence of a step of this kind?" "My lord," replied the parasite, "I
do not pretend to be any great casuist in these matters. His honour of
San Severino does I know seldom give way to scruples of this kind. But
in the instance I have mentioned there are several things to be said.
The mother of the lady, who formerly moved in a higher sphere than she
does at present, never maintained a very formidable character. This
daughter is the fruit of her indiscriminate amours, and though I am
perfectly satisfied she has not yet been blown upon by the breath of
a mortal, her education has been such as to prepare her to follow the
venerable example of her mother. Your lordship therefore sees that in
this case, you will wrong no parent, and seduce no child, that you will
merely gather an harvest already ripe, and which will be infallibly
reaped by the first comer."
Though the reasons of my convenient gentleman made me hesitate, they
by no means determined me to the execution of the plan he proposed. He
immediately perceived the situation of my mind, and hinted that he
might at least have the honour of placing me in a certain church, that
afternoon at vespers, where I might have an opportunity of seeing, and
perhaps conversing a little with the lady. To this scheme I assented.
She appeared not more than sixteen years of age. Her person was small,
but her form was delicate. Her auburn tresses hung about her neck
in great profusion. Her eyes sparkled with vivacity, and even with
intelligence. Her dress was elegant and graceful, but not gaudy. It
was impossible that such a figure should not have had some tendency to
captivate me. Having contemplated her sufficiently at a distance, I
approached nearer.
The little gipsey turned up her eyes askance, and endeavoured to take a
sly survey of me as I advanced. I accosted her. Her behaviour was full
of that charming hesitation which is uniformly the offspring of youth
and inexperience. She received me with a pretty complaisance, but at
the same time blushed and appeared fluttered she knew not why. I
involuntarily advanced my hand towards her, and she gave me hers with a
kind of unreflecting frankness. There was a good sense and a simplicity
united in her appearance, and the few words she uttered, that pleased
and even affected me.
Such, my dear friend, is the present state of my amour. I confess I have
frequently considered seduction in an odious light. But here I think few
or none of the objections against it have place. The mellow fruit is
ready to drop from the tree, and seems to solicit some friendly hand to
gather it.