Becoming, notwithstanding my
friend's eloquence and learning, somewhat tired of the subject, I
began to talk about Alexander. Francis Ardry said he was one of
the two great men whom the world has produced, the other being
Napoleon; I replied that I believed Tamerlane was a greater man
than either; but Francis Ardry knew nothing of Tamerlane, save what
he had gathered from the play of Timour the Tartar. "No," said he,
"Alexander and Napoleon are the great men of the world, their names
are known everywhere. Alexander has been dead upwards of two
thousand years, but the very English bumpkins sometimes christen
their boys by the name of Alexander--can there be a greater
evidence of his greatness? As for Napoleon, there are some parts
of India in which his bust is worshipped." Wishing to make up a
triumvirate, I mentioned the name of Wellington, to which Francis
Ardry merely said, "bah!" and resumed the subject of dog-fighting.
Francis Ardry remained at the inn during that day and the next, and
then departed to the dog and lion fight; I never saw him
afterwards, and merely heard of him once after a lapse of some
years, and what I then heard was not exactly what I could have
wished to hear. He did not make much of the advantages which he
possessed, a pity, for how great were those advantages--person,
intellect, eloquence, connection, riches! yet, with all these
advantages, one thing highly needful seems to have been wanting in
Francis.
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