Poland -- History -- Stanislaus II Augustus, 1764-1795 -- Fiction
"Tell my cousin Mary that, either way, I shall present to her esteem
the most amiable and accomplished of my sex; but I warn her not to
fall in love with him, neither in _propriâ, personâ_, nor by his
public fame, nor with his private character. Tell her 'he is a bright
and particular star,' neither in her sphere nor in any other woman's.
In this way he is as cold as 'Dian's Crescent;' and to my great
amazement too, for when I throw my eyes over the many lovely young
women who at different times fill the drawing-room of the countess, I
cannot but wonder at the perfect indifference with which he views
their (to me) irresistible charms.
"He is polite and attentive to them all; he talks with them, smiles
with them, and treats them with every gentle complacency; but they do
not live one instant in his memory. I mean they do not occupy his
particular wishes; for with regard to every respectful sentiment
towards the sex in general, and esteem to some amiable individuals,
he is as awake as in the other case he is still asleep. The fact is,
he has no idea of appropriation; he never casts one thought upon
himself; kindness is spontaneous in his nature; his sunny eyes beam
on all with modest benignity, and his frank and glowing conversation
is directed to every rank of people. They imbibe it with an avidity
and love which makes its way to his heart, without kindling one spark
of vanity. Thus, whilst his fine person and splendid actions fill
every eye and bosom, I see him moving in the circle unconscious of
his eminence and the admiration he excites.
"Drawn by such an example, to which his high quality as well as
extraordinary merit gives so great an influence, most of the younger
nobility have been led to enter the army. These circumstances, added
to the detail of his bravery and uncommon talents in the field, have
made him an object of universal regard, and, in consequence, wherever
he is seen he meets with applause and acclamation: nay, even at the
appearance of his carriage in the streets, the passengers take off
their hats and pray for him till he is out of sight. It is only then
that I perceive his cheek flush with the conviction that he is seated
in their hearts.
"'It is this, Thaddeus,' said I to him one day, when walking together
we were obliged to retire into a house from the crowds that followed
him; 'it is this, my dear friend, which shields your heart against
the arrows of love. You have no place for that passion; your mistress
is glory, and she courts you.'
"'My mistress is my country,' replied he; 'at present I desire no
other. For her I would die; for her only would I wish to live.'
Whilst he spoke, the energy of his soul blazed in his eye. I smiled.
"'You are an enthusiast, Thaddeus,' I said.
"'Pembroke!' returned he, in a surprised and reproachful tone.
"'I do not give you that name opprobriously,' resumed I, laughing;
'but there are many in my country, who, hearing these sentiments,
would not scruple to call you mad.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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