He was not young,
but handsome and well made, with much amiability and great
courage. A sincere friend, no consideration could weaken his
regard; an adversary to be dreaded, no obstacle could repress his
boldness. His enemies--and amongst them he included the whole
magistracy--his enemies, I say, have used him shamefully, but he
treated them too ill for them to be believed in any thing they say
of him. If he were ambitious, he had the excuse of superior merit,
and if he showed himself too severe in one particular, it proceeded
from an energy of mind which did not allow him to have more
pity for others than they had for him. Do not, my friend, think
that the attachment I had for him can transport me beyond just
limits. Since he is in his grave, my illusions, if I had any, have
dissipated. I only give to my deceased friends the tribute due
to them--truth and tears. But really, without thinking of it, I
am attributing to myself these virtues without necessity, forgetting
that you are not one of those who would fain render me as black
as possible in the eyes of posterity.
In proportion as the first sight of the uncle had prejudiced me
against him, so much more did it propitiate me towards the nephew.
I saw in him a generous heart, and a genius capable of lofty actions
which you would vainly have sought for in the marechal de Richelieu.
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