LETTER XCI.
Vienna.
The Emperor is of a middle size, well made, and of a fair complexion. He has a considerable resemblance to his sister, the Queen of France, which, in my opinion, is saying a great deal in favour of his looks.—Till I saw something of his usual behaviour, I did not think it possible for a person in such an elevated situation, to put every body with whom he conversed upon so easy a footing.
His manner, as I have often mentioned, is affable, obliging, and perfectly free from the reserved and lofty deportment assumed by some on account of high birth. Whoever has the honour to be in company with him, so far from being checked by such despicable pride, has need to be on his guard, not to adopt such a degree of familiarity as, whatever the condescension of the one might permit, would be highly improper in the other to use.
He is regular in his way of life, moderate in his pleasures, steady in his plans, and diligent in business. He is fond of his army, and inclines that the soldiers should have every comfort and necessary consistent with their situation. He is certainly an œconomist, and lavishes very little money on useless pomp, mistresses, or favourites; and it is, I suppose, on no better foundation than this, that his enemies accuse him of avarice.
I cannot help regarding œconomy as one of the most useful qualities in a Prince. Liberality, even when pushed to an imprudent length, may, in a private person, proceed from a kind of greatness of mind, because his fortune is in every sense his own, and he can injure nobody but himself by lavishing it away.—He knows that when it is gone, nobody will reimburse him for his extravagance.—He seems therefore to have taken the resolution to submit to the inconveniency of future poverty, rather than renounce the present happiness of acting with a magnificent liberality, and bestowing on others more than he can afford.
This is not the case with a Prince.—What he squanders is not his own, but the public money.—He knows that his pomp and splendour will be kept up, and that his subjects, not he, are to feel the inconveniencies of his prodigality. When I hear, therefore, that a King has given great sums of money to any particular person; from the sums given, the person who receives it, the motive for the gift, and other circumstances, I can judge whether it is well or ill disposed of; but in either case, it cannot be called generosity.
The virtue of generosity consists in a man’s depriving himself of something for the sake of another. There can be no generosity in giving to John what James must replace the next moment. What is called generosity in Kings, very often consists in bestowing that money on the idle part of their subjects which they have squeezed from the industrious. I have heard a parcel of fiddlers and opera dancers praise a Prince for his noble and generous behaviour to them, while men near his person of useful talents and real worth were distressed for bread.—The Emperor certainly has none of that kind of generosity.