But I have yet another reason to inforce your attention to what I am
about to write. I was, as I have said, the instructor of your choice.
When I had yet remained neglected in the world, when my honours were
withered by the hand of poverty, when my blossoms appeared in the eyes
of those who saw me of the most brown and wintery complexion, and, if
your lordship will allow me to finish the metaphor, when I stank in
their noses, it was then that your lordship remarked and distinguished
me. Your bounty it was that first revived my native pride. It is true
that it ran in a little dribbling rivulet, but still it was much to me.
Even before you were able to afford me any real assistance, you were
always ready to offer me a corner of your gingerbread, or a marble from
your hoard. Your lordship had at all times a taste for sumptuousness and
magnificence, but you knew how to limit your natural propensity in
consideration of the calls of affinity, and to give your farthings to
your friends.
Do not then, my dear lord, belie the first and earliest sentiments of
your heart. As you have ever heard me, let your attention be tripled
now. Read my letter once and again. Preserve it as a sacred deposit. Lay
it under your pillow. Meditate upon it fasting. Commit it to memory, and
repeat the scattered parcels of it, as Caesar is said to have done the
Greek alphabet, to cool your rising choler. Be this the amulet to
preserve you from danger! Be this the chart by which to steer the little
skiff of your political system safe into the port of historic
immortality!
My lord, you and I have read Machiavel together. It is true I am but a
bungler in Italian, and your lordship was generally obliged to interpret
for me. Your translation I dare say was always scientifical, but I was
seldom so happy as to see either grammar or sense in it. So far however
as I can guess at the drift of this celebrated author, he seems to have
written as the professor of only one science. He has treated of the art
of government, and has enquired what was wise, and what was political.
He has left the moralists to take care of themselves.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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