Letter Marco to Cesar - 27th July 1860 Archive 834
Ostend
My dear boy,
If I have fully understood your letter of the 24th, it boils down, in the final analysis, to a single point, but this point, which is by no means unimportant, is surrounded by all sorts of details; we must therefore examine these details one by one.
You wrote two letters to Georges making certain business proposals to him, proposals which, I have no doubt, must be excellent ones since you made them. But however excellent this enterprise may be, it is none the less essential that the condition sine qua non should be fulfilled. Now the big problem, the insurmountable problem, resides precisely in the fact that this condition cannot be fulfilled. There are people who, with extraordinary bluntness, detail the budgets of others, without (here are 2 or 3 words obliterated on the photocopy) with their haphazard estimates they throw everyone into a moral and sometimes material state of embarrassment. Maître Fontana is such a person and I can prove this to you by using a single word, which is appropriate, if not parliamentary: he has lied. Georges has married a charming, good, gracious, devoted girl; but he has married nothing but her. Later she may have something; but the position is quite definitely that, at the present time, Georges would be unable to send you the moderate sum which you request. It is not in fun that I call it modest, but because, in fact, this sum is absolutely nothing in England. And now I am led quite naturally to speak to you of something else, although it still relates to the same purpose.
Georges is therefore out of the question; but I could participate, and I will explain how. You desire that we should all be together and I believe it because you say so. Now if this reunion which is so much desired, should take place, you realise that neither Georges nor I would wish to be under any obligation to you. It would therefore be necessary that Georges should have his own work and that I should have mine. Each man to his taste; those of Georges are not commercial; far from it for commerce is anathema to him; therefore it is necessary that he should follow his own profession, which is the teaching of languages; and my impression is that in England, and above all in a basically commercial town like Liverpool, French and German are much studied; the latter in particular – in view of certain royal marriages – has become a fashionable language of the land. Thus Georges would be able to paddle his own canoe, and in a manner which would be most advantageous for all. As for me, I believe that with Italian and the guitar I should not exactly die of hunger; in fact it seems clear that, provided things are carefully prepared and properly run, I could be of some use in the community. You know that I have never saved money and, now that I am alone in the world, I shall save still less. After deducting what I need to dress myself properly and smoke my cigars, all the rest would go into the children’s accounts: action is better than words, so I shall act. But for this purpose it necessarily follows that you should make a little gesture in my favour; a gesture from which you will not incur the slightest inconvenience and can only obtain honour and profit. You will receive by this post several booklets, from which, if you use them to your advantage, you could obtain some excellent results. We only need to have up our sleeves a well-disposed journalist, who must make announcements and lay everything on thick: in the said booklets there are authorities which will completely cover him against any liability. So see what you can do, my boy: as for what I can do for my part, it is this; I shall renounce in your favour the whole of the profits from my lessons which, I hope, will materialise. To return to the concert; I must explain to you that never in my life have I given a concert in collaboration: Silvori himself has played in one of my concerts but it was I, and I alone, who gave it. Please note that I am not telling you this to cause you the slightest distress but solely to avoid any misunderstanding. I would ask you, in the meantime, to tell your good friend how grateful I would be if she would be kind enough to give one or two items in my proposed concert. You ask me for a brief word of explanation and I think I have done, my bit, for my letter is perhaps a little more explicit than yours. The next one you write will probably be free of any (here is an illegible word) or fogs; a fault I readily forgive you, since the British climate is perhaps solely to blame. In this connection I must not forget to tell you that inheritances from relatives, if not remote, at least absent, have much in common with mirages of the desert. Of course, if one of you had frequently visited old Fredericks or if, at least, you had, from time to time, even if only each New Year, written her a really nice, affectionate letter, or to put it another way, alas, a very hypocritical letter, one could have had a fair degree of hope: anyway, I pray God that matters may turn out as you desire. It remains for me still to speak to you of your marriage and I shall do so without fail in a subsequent letter; the more so as it is most important for me to do it before our meeting in Paris.
Best wishes to your good Julie; much love to you, now and always
Your affectionate father
Marc-Aurele
My dear boy,
If I have fully understood your letter of the 24th, it boils down, in the final analysis, to a single point, but this point, which is by no means unimportant, is surrounded by all sorts of details; we must therefore examine these details one by one.
You wrote two letters to Georges making certain business proposals to him, proposals which, I have no doubt, must be excellent ones since you made them. But however excellent this enterprise may be, it is none the less essential that the condition sine qua non should be fulfilled. Now the big problem, the insurmountable problem, resides precisely in the fact that this condition cannot be fulfilled. There are people who, with extraordinary bluntness, detail the budgets of others, without (here are 2 or 3 words obliterated on the photocopy) with their haphazard estimates they throw everyone into a moral and sometimes material state of embarrassment. Maître Fontana is such a person and I can prove this to you by using a single word, which is appropriate, if not parliamentary: he has lied. Georges has married a charming, good, gracious, devoted girl; but he has married nothing but her. Later she may have something; but the position is quite definitely that, at the present time, Georges would be unable to send you the moderate sum which you request. It is not in fun that I call it modest, but because, in fact, this sum is absolutely nothing in England. And now I am led quite naturally to speak to you of something else, although it still relates to the same purpose.
Georges is therefore out of the question; but I could participate, and I will explain how. You desire that we should all be together and I believe it because you say so. Now if this reunion which is so much desired, should take place, you realise that neither Georges nor I would wish to be under any obligation to you. It would therefore be necessary that Georges should have his own work and that I should have mine. Each man to his taste; those of Georges are not commercial; far from it for commerce is anathema to him; therefore it is necessary that he should follow his own profession, which is the teaching of languages; and my impression is that in England, and above all in a basically commercial town like Liverpool, French and German are much studied; the latter in particular – in view of certain royal marriages – has become a fashionable language of the land. Thus Georges would be able to paddle his own canoe, and in a manner which would be most advantageous for all. As for me, I believe that with Italian and the guitar I should not exactly die of hunger; in fact it seems clear that, provided things are carefully prepared and properly run, I could be of some use in the community. You know that I have never saved money and, now that I am alone in the world, I shall save still less. After deducting what I need to dress myself properly and smoke my cigars, all the rest would go into the children’s accounts: action is better than words, so I shall act. But for this purpose it necessarily follows that you should make a little gesture in my favour; a gesture from which you will not incur the slightest inconvenience and can only obtain honour and profit. You will receive by this post several booklets, from which, if you use them to your advantage, you could obtain some excellent results. We only need to have up our sleeves a well-disposed journalist, who must make announcements and lay everything on thick: in the said booklets there are authorities which will completely cover him against any liability. So see what you can do, my boy: as for what I can do for my part, it is this; I shall renounce in your favour the whole of the profits from my lessons which, I hope, will materialise. To return to the concert; I must explain to you that never in my life have I given a concert in collaboration: Silvori himself has played in one of my concerts but it was I, and I alone, who gave it. Please note that I am not telling you this to cause you the slightest distress but solely to avoid any misunderstanding. I would ask you, in the meantime, to tell your good friend how grateful I would be if she would be kind enough to give one or two items in my proposed concert. You ask me for a brief word of explanation and I think I have done, my bit, for my letter is perhaps a little more explicit than yours. The next one you write will probably be free of any (here is an illegible word) or fogs; a fault I readily forgive you, since the British climate is perhaps solely to blame. In this connection I must not forget to tell you that inheritances from relatives, if not remote, at least absent, have much in common with mirages of the desert. Of course, if one of you had frequently visited old Fredericks or if, at least, you had, from time to time, even if only each New Year, written her a really nice, affectionate letter, or to put it another way, alas, a very hypocritical letter, one could have had a fair degree of hope: anyway, I pray God that matters may turn out as you desire. It remains for me still to speak to you of your marriage and I shall do so without fail in a subsequent letter; the more so as it is most important for me to do it before our meeting in Paris.
Best wishes to your good Julie; much love to you, now and always
Your affectionate father
Marc-Aurele