THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF POPE PIUS II. 



the spirit of the time. As we have heard him on love, gallantry., 

 marriage, and courtiership, let us spare a line or two for friendship ; 

 on which, addressing himself to his friend, John Campisio, a great 

 philosopher, he writes 



" That you should commend my friendship, and hold it steadfast, I 

 cannot read without pleasure ; for if, generally speaking, I would not 

 take praise to myself, knowing how seldom I deserve it, I can declare, 

 without needing to blush for it, that once I do love, I love on most obsti- 

 nately. I am not easily led into friendship ; and I am very far from looking 

 upon all men as being worthy of becoming my friends. To my superiors, I 

 am fastidious, and must consider a man better than I am myself before I 

 make any friendship with him. Thus, if I am slow in entering upon a friend- 

 ship, I am tardy in withdrawing from it. In a word, I am a fast friend. 

 Of the many I have loved, there has not, as yet, been one whom I hate 

 at this moment. 



It is pleasant to remark, that as we get farther into the correspon- 

 dence, we find the wisdom of ripe years in the writer, succeeding to 

 the wildness of youth. Letters now present themselves in which the 

 vicissitudes of life, and the time to come, are spoken of with 

 becoming gravity and correctness as in the eleventh letter to Con- 

 stant Frederic, Chancellor of Trieste, from which, we have only 

 room for a single observation : 



" The last action a man has to perform is to die ; and although everything 

 be well done up to that, yet if he misses his object there, all the rest goes for 

 nothing. It is then as with a poet who breaks down in the fifth act." 



But, perhaps, a better idea of his sincerity,and the really good work 

 of reformation which time was now gradually producing with JEneas, 

 may be gathered from an extract on that subject, on which we have 

 already seen that his wit was so quaint, so lively, and discursive 

 we mean gallantry. Touching an affair of this kind, he thus addresses 

 John Friend, prothonotary of Cologne : 



" A few days ago, I received two letters from you, excellently written arid 

 full of interest. I hardly know where to begin, but will follow the order 

 you have yourself adopted. I shall first speak of the young girl you have 

 given up to her suitor. I praise you for that action : for what is there more 

 praiseworthy than to join those in marriage who are about to bring forth 

 children, and fill the state with sons. But that after having done this, you 

 should grieve is unnatural ; it is not the province of virtue to breed sorrow. 

 He who acts virtuously is happy : he grieves who sins. How comes it then that 

 you are full of grief after having done an act of virtue. I think you have done 

 good and not acted well. It is not what we do, but how we do it, that should 

 be considered. The end in all things is chiefly to be regarded. If you took this 

 girl under your protection to save her from harm you did well. But if you 

 were driven to that action by the fear of God's punishment, or only out of 

 fear of the sentence the world would have passed upon you, that suffices not. 

 You ask me next for a cure, and you will have no antedote furnished by the 

 poets : take the Evangelist ; you will find in him that fornication is death. 

 If you know yourself you are happy in having cut off the means of offending. 

 But how strict JEneas' is become, you will say, he now preaches up conti- 

 nence, ; at Vienna he held quite another sort of language. I do not deny it, 

 my dear John. I did so talk to you formerly, but many years have gone over 

 our heads since. Then we are growing old ; the day of death is drawing 

 nearer, we have now to think not how we may live, but how we are to die. 



M.M. No. 94. 3 N 



