Incontinently he took the train, he went to Paris, he looked up Yarza. He explained to him his vague projects of action. Yarza listened attentively, and said:
“Perhaps it will appear foolish to you, but I am going to give you a book I wrote, which I should like you to read. It’s called Enchiridion Sapientiae. In my youth I was something of a Latinist. In these pages, less than a hundred, I have gathered my observations about the financial and political world. It might as well be called Contribution to Common-sense, or Neo-Machiavellianism. If you find that it helps you, keep it.”
Cæsar read the book with concentrated attention.
“How did it strike you?” said Yarza.
“There are many things in it I don’t agree with; I shall have to think over them again.”
“All right. Then keep my Enchiridion and go on to London. Paris is a city that has finished. It is not worth the trouble of losing one’s time staying here.”
Cæsar went to London, always with the firm intention of going into something. From time to time he wrote a long letter to Ignacio Alzugaray, telling him his impressions of politics and financial questions.
While he was in London his sister joined him and invited him to go to Florence; two years later she begged him to accompany her to Rome. Cæsar had always declined to visit the Eternal City, until, on that occasion, he himself showed a desire to go to Rome with his sister.