Riperdá, Juan Guillermo, Duke of, 1680-1737 -- Fiction; Wharton, Philip Wharton, Duke of, 1698-1731 -- Fiction
The mind of Louis was powerfully excited during a discourse which
embraced so many topics; and all connected with himself, by means of
a father, who he knew by fame only; but such a fame as filled his son
with an admiration, only to be equalled by the emulation which broke
at once over his heart. While listening to the enumeration of his
father's patriotic acts for Holland and for Spain; he contemned the
airy pretensions of every brilliant, but inferior aim to celebrity: all
but substantial worthiness vanished before him, like the bursting of
light upon darkness. He had heard of his father; but now he seemed to
feel his presence: and he sat with his hands clasped, absorbed in the
immensity of the subject.
Mr. Athelstone observed the workings of his countenance; the flashing
brightness of his complexion, as his thoughts darted from Lindisfarne
to Holland, and from Holland to Spain. He had not heard his uncle's
last observation with regard to Wharton's views on his father and
himself. Mr. Athelstone understood the abstraction of his mind. He was
too well read in the human character not to guess what was passing
there. He gazed on him a few minutes in silence; contemplating with the
anxiety of parental affection what might be the issue of the passion he
saw was then conceived in that ingenuous and ardent soul.
"But it must not be for treason!" cried he to himself, and gently
shaking the arm of his nephew, he repeated his last remark on the
Duke. He perceived by the start Louis gave, in recalling his diverged
faculties, that he was now attended to; and for a while he pursued
the subject with other observations. At the conclusion, he added in
a solemn voice, "you know, my child, I require no reply to this head
of my discourse. But I beseech you, weigh well the true nature of
things before you act. In no case allow imagination to mislead you.
To be on the suffering side of a contest, is generally sufficient, in
the judgment of generous youth, to make it the just one. And it is
a beneficent disposition of nature, to prompt man to the immediate
succour of distress. Oh, that our judges would consider this, in causes
of rebellion, before they condemn the young enthusiast, who would as
readily raise his arm for exiled Brunswick, as for banished Stuart! It
is the circumstance that draws the sword of unreflecting youth; thought
and principle unsheath that of age; and their trial and sentence should
be accordingly. But let not such reflections be your apology, Louis!
Another time I will give you the experience of my seventy years, by a
full explanation of why England changed the nature of her ruler; and
then if you err," added he with a melancholy smile, "it will be against
knowledge, and not even my partial indulgence can excuse you."
He rose as he spoke, and pressing the hand on which his nephew was
thoughtfully leaning his head, the worthy Pastor left him to meditate
on what had passed.
CHAP. VII.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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