The new count, while he allowed others to forget his origin, was too wise to forget it himself, and in legal documents he always signed his family name as well as the one he had adopted.  His brother had offered him two ways to win fortune in the world, leaving him perfectly free in his choice.  Both required an expenditure of one thousand sequins, but the abbe had put the amount aside for that purpose.  My friend had to choose between the sword of Mars and the bird of Minerva.  The abbe knew that he could purchase for his brother a company in the army of his Imperial and Apostolic Majesty, or obtain for him a professorship at the University of Padua; for money can do everything.  But my friend, who was gifted with noble feelings and good sense, knew that in either profession talents and knowledge were essentials, and before making a choice he was applying himself with great success to the study of mathematics.  He ultimately decided upon the military profession, thus imitating Achilles, who preferred the sword to the distaff, and he paid for it with his life like the son of Peleus; though not so young, and not through a wound inflicted by an arrow, but from the plague, which he caught in the unhappy country in which the indolence of Europe allows the Turks to perpetuate that fearful disease.

The distinguished appearance, the noble sentiments, the great knowledge, and the talents of Fabris would have been turned into ridicule in a man called Tognolo, for such is the force of prejudices, particularly of those which have no ground to rest upon, that an ill-sounding name is degrading in this our stupid society.  My opinion is that men who have an ill-sounding name, or one which presents an indecent or ridiculous idea, are right in changing it if they intend to win honour, fame, and fortune either in arts or sciences.  No one can reasonably deny them that right, provided the name they assume belongs to nobody.  The alphabet is general property, and everyone has the right to use it for the creation of a word forming an appellative sound.  But he must truly create it.  Voltaire, in spite of his genius, would not perhaps have reached posterity under his name of Arouet, especially amongst the French, who always give way so easily to their keen sense of ridicule and equivocation.  How could they have imagined that a writer ‘a rouet’ could be a man of genius?  And D’Alembert, would he have attained his high fame, his universal reputation, if he had been satisfied with his name of M. Le Rond, or Mr. Allround?  What would have become of Metastasio under his true name of Trapasso?  What impression would Melanchthon have made with his name of Schwarzerd?  Would he then have dared to raise the voice of a moralist philosopher, of a reformer of the Eucharist, and so many other holy things?  Would not M. de Beauharnais have caused some persons to laugh and others to blush if he had kept his name of Beauvit, even if the first founder of his family had been indebted for his fortune to the fine quality expressed by that name?