Letters to His Son, 1748

T >> The Earl of Chesterfield >> Letters to His Son, 1748

LETTERS TO HIS SON
1748

By the EARL OF CHESTERFIELD

on the Fine Art of becoming a

MAN OF THE WORLD

and a

GENTLEMAN



LETTER XXIV

January 2, O. S. 1748.

DEAR BOY: I am edified with the allotment of your time at Leipsig; which
is so well employed from morning till night, that a fool would say you
had none left for yourself; whereas, I am sure you have sense enough to
know, that such a right use of your time is having it all to yourself;
nay, it is even more, for it is laying it out to immense interest, which,
in a very few years, will amount to a prodigious capital.

Though twelve of your fourteen 'Commensaux' may not be the liveliest
people in the world, and may want (as I easily conceive that they do) 'le
ton de la bonne campagnie, et les graces', which I wish you, yet pray
take care not to express any contempt, or throw out any ridicule; which I
can assure you, is not more contrary to good manners than to good sense:
but endeavor rather to get all the good you can out of them; and
something or other is to be got out of everybody. They will, at least,
improve you in the German language; and, as they come from different
countries, you may put them upon subjects, concerning which they must
necessarily be able to give you some useful informations, let them be
ever so dull or disagreeable in general: they will know something, at
least, of the laws, customs, government, and considerable families of
their respective countries; all which are better known than not, and
consequently worth inquiring into. There is hardly any body good for
every thing, and there is scarcely any body who is absolutely good for
nothing. A good chemist will extract some spirit or other out of every
substance; and a man of parts will, by his dexterity and management,
elicit something worth knowing out of every being he converses with.

As you have been introduced to the Duchess of Courland, pray go there as
often as ever your more necessary occupations will allow you. I am told
she is extremely well bred, and has parts. Now, though I would not
recommend to you, to go into women's company in search of solid
knowledge, or judgment, yet it has its use in other respects; for it
certainly polishes the manners, and gives 'une certaine tournure', which
is very necessary in the course of the world; and which Englishmen have
generally less of than any people in the world.

I cannot say that your suppers are luxurious, but you must own they are
solid; and a quart of soup, and two pounds of potatoes, will enable you
to pass the night without great impatience for your breakfast next
morning. One part of your supper (the potatoes) is the constant diet of
my old friends and countrymen,--[Lord Chesterfield, from the time he was
appointed Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, 1775, used always to call the Irish
his countrymen.]--the Irish, who are the healthiest and the strongest
bodies of men that I know in Europe.

As I believe that many of my letters to you and to Mr. Harte have
miscarried, as well as some of yours and his to me; particularly one of
his from Leipsig, to which he refers in a subsequent one, and which I
never received; I would have you, for the future, acknowledge the dates
of all the letters which either of you shall receive from me; and I will
do the same on my part.

That which I received by the last mail, from you, was of the 25th
November, N. S.; the mail before that brought me yours, of which I have
forgot the date, but which inclosed one to Lady Chesterfield: she will
answer it soon, and, in the mean time, thanks you for it.

My disorder was only a very great cold, of which I am entirely recovered.
You shall not complain for want of accounts from Mr. Grevenkop, who will
frequently write you whatever passes here, in the German language and
character; which will improve you in both. Adieu.




LETTER XXV

LONDON, January 15, O. S. 1748.

DEAR BOY: I willingly accept the new-year's gift which you promise me for
next year; and the more valuable you make it, the more thankful I shall
be. That depends entirely upon you; and therefore I hope to be presented,
every year, with a new edition of you, more correct than the former, and
considerably enlarged and amended.

Since you do not care to be an assessor of the imperial chamber, and that
you desire an establishment in England; what do you think of being Greek
Professor at one of our universities? It is a very pretty sinecure, and
requires very little knowledge (much less than, I hope, you have already)
of that language. If you do not approve of this, I am at a loss to know
what else to propose to you; and therefore desire that you will inform me
what sort of destination you propose for yourself; for it is now time to
fix it, and to take our measures accordingly. Mr. Harte tells me that you
set up for a----------; if so, I presume it is in the view of succeeding
me in my office;--[A secretary of state.]--which I will very willingly
resign to you, whenever you shall call upon me for it. But, if you intend
to be the--------, or the-----------, there are some trifling
circumstances upon which you should previously take your resolution. The
first of which is, to be fit for it: and then, in order to be so, make
yourself master of ancient and, modern history, and languages. To know
perfectly the constitution, and form of government of every nation; the
growth and the decline of ancient and modern empires; and to trace out
and reflect upon the causes of both. To know the strength, the riches,
and the commerce of every country. These little things, trifling as they
may seem, are yet very necessary for a politician to know; and which
therefore, I presume, you will condescend to apply yourself to. There are
some additional qualifications necessary, in the practical part of
business, which may deserve some consideration in your leisure moments;
such as, an absolute command of your temper, so as not to be provoked to
passion, upon any account; patience, to hear frivolous, impertinent, and
unreasonable applications; with address enough to refuse, without
offending, or, by your manner of granting, to double the obligation;
dexterity enough to conceal a truth without telling a lie; sagacity
enough to read other people's countenances; and serenity enough not to
let them discover anything by yours; a seeming frankness with a real
reserve. These are the rudiments of a politician; the world must be your
grammar.

Three mails are now due from Holland; so that I have no letters from you
to acknowledge. I therefore conclude with recommending myself to your
favor and protection when you succeed. Yours.




LETTER XXVI

LONDON, January 29, O. S. 1748.

DEAR BOY: I find, by Mr. Harte's last letter, that many of my letters to
you and him, have been frozen up on their way to Leipsig; the thaw has, I
suppose, by this time, set them at liberty to pursue their journey to
you, and you will receive a glut of them at once. Hudibras alludes, in
this verse,

"Like words congealed in northern air,"

to a vulgar notion, that in Greenland words were frozen in their
utterance; and that upon a thaw, a very mixed conversation was heard in
the air, of all those words set at liberty. This conversation was, I
presume, too various and extensive to be much attended to: and may not
that be the case of half a dozen of my long letters, when you receive
them all at once? I think that I can, eventually, answer that question,
thus: If you consider my letters in their true light, as conveying to you
the advice of a friend, who sincerely wishes your happiness, and desires
to promote your pleasure, you will both read and attend to them; but, if
you consider them in their opposite, and very false light, as the
dictates of a morose and sermonizing father, I am sure they will be not
only unattended to, but unread. Which is the case, you can best tell me.
Advice is seldom welcome; and those who want it the most always like it
the least. I hope that your want of experience, of which you must be
conscious, will convince you, that you want advice; and that your good
sense will incline you to follow it.

Tell me how you pass your leisure hours at Leipsig; I know you have not
many; and I have too good an opinion of you to think, that, at this age,
you would desire more. Have you assemblies, or public spectacles? and of
what kind are they? Whatever they are, see them all; seeing everything,
is the only way not to admire anything too much.

If you ever take up little tale-books, to amuse you by snatches, I will
recommend two French books, which I have already mentioned; they will
entertain you, and not without some use to your mind and your manners.
One is, 'La Maniere de bien penser dans les Ouvrages d'Esprit', written
by Pere Bouhours; I believe you read it once in England, with Monsieur
Coderc; but I think that you will do well to read it again, as I know of
no book that will form your taste better. The other is, 'L'Art de plaire
dans la Conversation', by the Abbe de Bellegarde, and is by no means
useless, though I will not pretend to say, that the art of pleasing can
be reduced to a receipt; if it could, I am sure that receipt would be
worth purchasing at any price. Good sense, and good nature, are the
principal ingredients; and your own observation, and the good advice of
others, must give the right color and taste to it. Adieu! I shall always
love you as you shall deserve.




LETTER XXVII

LONDON, February 9, O. S. 1748.

DEAR BOY: You will receive this letter, not from a Secretary of State but
from a private man; for whom, at his time of life, quiet was as fit, and
as necessary, as labor and activity are for you at your age, and for many
years yet to come. I resigned the seals, last Saturday, to the King; who
parted with me most graciously, and (I may add, for he said so himself)
with regret. As I retire from hurry to quiet, and to enjoy, at my ease,
the comforts of private and social life, you will easily imagine that I
have no thoughts of opposition, or meddling with business. 'Otium cum
dignitate' is my object. The former I now enjoy; and I hope that my
conduct and character entitle me to some share of the latter. In short, I
am now happy: and I found that I could not be so in my former public
situation.

As I like your correspondence better than that of all the kings, princes,
and ministers, in Europe, I shall now have leisure to carry it on more
regularly. My letters to you will be written, I am sure, by me, and, I
hope, read by you, with pleasure; which, I believe, seldom happens,
reciprocally, to letters written from and to a secretary's office.

Do not apprehend that my retirement from business may be a hindrance to
your advancement in it, at a proper time: on the contrary, it will
promote it; for, having nothing to ask for myself, I shall have the
better title to ask for you. But you have still a surer way than this of
rising, and which is wholly in your own power. Make yourself necessary;
which, with your natural parts, you may, by application, do. We are in
general, in England, ignorant of foreign affairs: and of the interests,
views, pretensions, and policy of other courts. That part of knowledge
never enters into our thoughts, nor makes part of our education; for
which reason, we have fewer proper subjects for foreign commissions, than
any other country in Europe; and, when foreign affairs happen to be
debated in Parliament, it is incredible with how much ignorance. The
harvest of foreign affairs being then so great, and the laborers so few,
if you make yourself master of them, you will make yourself necessary;
first as a foreign, and then as a domestic minister for that department.

I am extremely well pleased with the account which you give me of the
allotment of your time. Do but go on so, for two years longer, and I will
ask no more of you. Your labors will be their own reward; but if you
desire any other, that I can add, you may depend upon it.

I am glad that you perceive the indecency and turpitude of those of your
'Commensaux', who disgrace and foul themselves with dirty w----s and
scoundrel gamesters. And the light in which, I am sure, you see all
reasonable and decent people consider them, will be a good warning to
you. Adieu.




LETTER XXVIII

LONDON, February 13, O. S. 1748

DEAR BOY: your last letter gave me a very satisfactory account of your
manner of employing your time at Leipsig. Go on so but for two years
more, and, I promise you, that you will outgo all the people of your age
and time. I thank you for your explanation of the 'Schriftsassen', and
'Amptsassen'; and pray let me know the meaning of the 'Landsassen'. I am
very willing that you should take a Saxon servant, who speaks nothing but
German, which will be a sure way of keeping up your German, after you
leave Germany. But then, I would neither have that man, nor him whom you
have already, put out of livery; which makes them both impertinent and
useless. I am sure, that as soon as you shall have taken the other
servant, your present man will press extremely to be out of livery, and
valet de chambre; which is as much as to say, that he will curl your hair
and shave you, but not condescend to do anything else. I therefore advise
you, never to have a servant out of livery; and, though you may not
always think proper to carry the servant who dresses you abroad in the
rain and dirt, behind a coach or before a chair, yet keep it in your
power to do so, if you please, by keeping him in livery.

I have seen Monsieur and Madame Flemming, who gave me a very good account
of you, and of your manners, which to tell you the plain truth, were what
I doubted of the most. She told me, that you were easy, and not ashamed:
which is a great deal for an Englishman at your age.

I set out for Bath to-morrow, for a month; only to be better than well,
and enjoy, in, quiet, the liberty which I have acquired by the
resignation of the seals. You shall hear from me more at large from
thence; and now good night to you.




LETTER XXIX

BATH, February 18, O. S. 1748.

DEAR BOY: The first use that I made of my liberty was to come here, where
I arrived yesterday. My health, though not fundamentally bad yet, for
want of proper attention of late, wanted some repairs, which these waters
never fail giving it. I shall drink them a month, and return to London,
there to enjoy the comforts of social life, instead of groaning under the
load of business. I have given the description of the life that I propose
to lead for the future, in this motto, which I have put up in the frize
of my library in my new house:--

Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno, et inertibus horis
Ducere sollicitae jucunda oblivia vitas.

I must observe to you upon this occasion, that the uninterrupted
satisfaction which I expect to find in that library, will be chiefly
owing to my having employed some part of my life well at your age. I wish
I had employed it better, and my satisfaction would now be complete; but,
however, I planted while young, that degree of knowledge which is now my
refuge and my shelter. Make your plantations still more extensive; they
will more than pay you for your trouble. I do not regret the time that I
passed in pleasures; they were seasonable; they were the pleasures of
youth, and I enjoyed them while young. If I had not, I should probably
have overvalued them now, as we are very apt to do what we do not know;
but, knowing them as I do, I know their real value, and how much they are
generally overrated. Nor do I regret the time that I have passed in
business, for the same reason; those who see only the outside of it,
imagine it has hidden charms, which they pant after; and nothing but
acquaintance can undeceive them. I, who have been behind the scenes, both
of pleasure and business, and have seen all the springs and pullies of
those decorations which astonish and dazzle the audience, retire, not
only without regret, but with contentment and satisfaction. But what I
do, and ever shall regret, is the time which, while young, I lost in mere
idleness, and in doing nothing. This is the common effect of the
inconsideracy of youth, against which I beg you will be most carefully
upon your guard. The value of moments, when cast up, is immense, if well
employed; if thrown away, their loss is irrecoverable. Every moment may
be put to some use, and that with much more pleasure, than if unemployed.
Do not imagine, that by the employment of time, I mean an uninterrupted
application to serious studies. No; pleasures are, at proper times, both
as necessary and as useful; they fashion and form you for the world; they
teach you characters, and show you the human heart in its unguarded
minutes. But then remember to make that use of them. I have known many
people, from laziness of mind, go through both pleasure and business with
equal inattention; neither enjoying the one, nor doing the other;
thinking themselves men of pleasure, because they were mingled with those
who were, and men of business, because they had business to do, though
they did not do it. Whatever you do, do it to the purpose; do it
thoroughly, not superficially. 'Approfondissez': go to the bottom of
things. Any thing half done or half known, is, in my mind, neither done
nor known at all. Nay worse, it often misleads. There is hardly any place
or any company, where you may not gain knowledge, if you please; almost
everybody knows some one thing, and is glad to talk upon that one thing.
Seek and you will find, in this world as well as in the next. See
everything; inquire into everything; and you may excuse your curiosity,
and the questions you ask which otherwise might be thought impertinent,
by your manner of asking them; for most things depend a great deal upon
the manner. As, for example, I AM AFRAID THAT I AM VERY TROUBLESOME WITH
MY QUESTIONS; BUT NOBODY CAN INFORM ME SO WELL AS YOU; or something of
that kind.

Now that you are in a Lutheran country, go to their churches, and observe
the manner of their public worship; attend to their ceremonies, and
inquire the meaning and intention of everyone of them. And, as you will
soon understand German well enough, attend to their sermons, and observe
their manner of preaching. Inform yourself of their church government:
whether it resides in the sovereign, or in consistories and synods.
Whence arises the maintenance of their clergy; whether from tithes, as in
England, or from voluntary contributions, or from pensions from the
state. Do the same thing when you are in Roman Catholic countries; go to
their churches, see all their ceremonies: ask the meaning of them, get
the terms explained to you. As, for instance, Prime, Tierce, Sexte,
Nones, Matins, Angelus, High Mass, Vespers, Complines, etc. Inform
yourself of their several religious orders, their founders, their rules,
their vows, their habits, their revenues, etc. But, when you frequent
places of public worship, as I would have you go to all the different
ones you meet with, remember, that however erroneous, they are none of
them objects of laughter and ridicule. Honest error is to be pitied, not
ridiculed. The object of all the public worships in the world is the
same; it is that great eternal Being who created everything. The
different manners of worship are by no means subjects of ridicule. Each
sect thinks its own is the best; and I know no infallible judge in this
world, to decide which is the best. Make the same inquiries, wherever you
are, concerning the revenues, the military establishment, the trade, the
commerce, and the police of every country. And you would do well to keep
a blank paper book, which the Germans call an ALBUM; and there, instead
of desiring, as they do, every fool they meet with to scribble something,
write down all these things as soon as they come to your knowledge from
good authorities.

I had almost forgotten one thing, which I would recommend as an object
for your curiosity and information, that is, the administration of
justice; which, as it is always carried on in open court, you may, and I
would have you, go and see it with attention and inquiry.

I have now but one anxiety left, which is concerning you. I would have
you be, what I know nobody is--perfect. As that is impossible, I would
have you as near perfection as possible. I know nobody in a fairer way
toward it than yourself, if you please. Never were so much pains taken
for anybody's education as for yours; and never had anybody those
opportunities of knowledge and improvement which you, have had, and still
have, I hope, I wish, I doubt, and fear alternately. This only I am sure
of, that you will prove either the greatest pain or the greatest pleasure
of, Yours.




LETTER XXX

BATH, February 22, O. S. 1748.

DEAR Boy: Every excellency, and every virtue, has its kindred vice or
weakness; and if carried beyond certain bounds, sinks into one or the
other. Generosity often runs into profusion, economy into avarice,
courage into rashness, caution into timidity, and so on:--insomuch that,
I believe, there is more judgment required, for the proper conduct of our
virtues, than for avoiding their opposite vices. Vice, in its true light,
is so deformed, that it shocks us at first sight, and would hardly ever
seduce us, if it did not, at first, wear the mask of some virtue. But
virtue is, in itself, so beautiful, that it charms us at first sight;
engages us more and more upon further acquaintance; and, as with other
beauties, we think excess impossible; it is here that judgment is
necessary, to moderate and direct the effects of an excellent cause. I
shall apply this reasoning, at present, not to any particular virtue, but
to an excellency, which, for want of judgment, is often the cause of
ridiculous and blamable effects; I mean, great learning; which, if not
accompanied with sound judgment, frequently carries us into error, pride,
and pedantry. As, I hope, you will possess that excellency in its utmost
extent, and yet without its too common failings, the hints, which my
experience can suggest, may probably not be useless to you.

Some learned men, proud of their knowledge, only speak to decide, and
give judgment without appeal; the consequence of which is, that mankind,
provoked by the insult, and injured by the oppression, revolt; and, in
order to shake off the tyranny, even call the lawful authority in
question. The more you know, the modester you should be: and (by the bye)
that modesty is the surest way of gratifying your vanity. Even where you
are sure, seem rather doubtful; represent, but do not pronounce, and, if
you would convince others, seem open to conviction yourself.

Others, to show their learning, or often from the prejudices of a school
education, where they hear of nothing else, are always talking of the
ancients, as something more than men, and of the moderns, as something
less. They are never without a classic or two in their pockets; they
stick to the old good sense; they read none of the modern trash; and will
show you, plainly, that no improvement has been made, in any one art or
science, these last seventeen hundred years. I would by no means have you
disown your acquaintance with the ancients: but still less would I have
you brag of an exclusive intimacy with them. Speak of the moderns without
contempt, and of the ancients without idolatry; judge them all by their
merits, but not by their ages; and if you happen to have an Elzevir
classic in your pocket neither show it nor mention it.

Some great scholars, most absurdly, draw all their maxims, both for
public and private life, from what they call parallel cases in the
ancient authors; without considering, that, in the first place, there
never were, since the creation of the world, two cases exactly parallel;
and, in the next place, that there never was a case stated, or even
known, by any historian, with every one of its circumstances; which,
however, ought to be known, in order to be reasoned from. Reason upon the
case itself, and the several circumstances that attend it, and act
accordingly; but not from the authority of ancient poets, or historians.
Take into your consideration, if you please, cases seemingly analogous;
but take them as helps only, not as guides. We are really so prejudiced
by our education, that, as the ancients deified their heroes, we deify
their madmen; of which, with all due regard for antiquity, I take
Leonidas and Curtius to have been two distinguished ones. And yet a solid
pedant would, in a speech in parliament, relative to a tax of two pence
in the pound upon some community or other, quote those two heroes, as
examples of what we ought to do and suffer for our country. I have known
these absurdities carried so far by people of injudicious learning, that
I should not be surprised, if some of them were to propose, while we are
at war with the Gauls, that a number of geese should be kept in the
Tower, upon account of the infinite advantage which Rome received IN A
PARALLEL CASE, from a certain number of geese in the Capitol. This way of
reasoning, and this way of speaking, will always form a poor politician,
and a puerile declaimer.