Letters to His Son, 1749

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LETTERS TO HIS SON
1749

By the EARL OF CHESTERFIELD

on the Fine Art of becoming a

MAN OF THE WORLD

and a

GENTLEMAN



LETTER LXII

LONDON, January 10, O. S. 1749.

DEAR BOY: I have received your letter of the 31st December, N. S. Your
thanks for my present, as you call it, exceed the value of the present;
but the use, which you assure me that you will make of it, is the thanks
which I desire to receive. Due attention to the inside of books, and due
contempt for the outside, is the proper relation between a man of sense
and his books.

Now that you are going a little more into the world; I will take this
occasion to explain my intentions as to your future expenses, that you
may know what you have to expect from me, and make your plan accordingly.
I shall neither deny nor grudge you any money, that may be necessary for
either your improvement or your pleasures: I mean the pleasures of a
rational being. Under the head of improvement, I mean the best books, and
the best masters, cost what they will; I also mean all the expense of
lodgings, coach, dress; servants, etc., which, according to the several
places where you may be, shall be respectively necessary to enable you to
keep the best company. Under the head of rational pleasures, I
comprehend, first, proper charities, to real and compassionate objects of
it; secondly, proper presents to those to whom you are obliged, or whom
you desire to oblige; thirdly, a conformity of expense to that of the
company which you keep; as in public spectacles; your share of little
entertainments; a few pistoles at games of mere commerce; and other
incidental calls of good company. The only two articles which I will
never supply, are the profusion of low riot, and the idle lavishness of
negligence and laziness. A fool squanders away, without credit or
advantage to himself, more than a man of sense spends with both. The
latter employs his money as he does his time, and never spends a shilling
of the one, nor a minute of the other, but in something that is either
useful or rationally pleasing to himself or others. The former buys
whatever he does not want, and does not pay for what he does want. He
cannot withstand the charms of a toyshop; snuff-boxes, watches, heads of
canes, etc., are his destruction. His servants and tradesmen conspire
with his own indolence to cheat him; and, in a very little time, he is
astonished, in the midst of all the ridiculous superfluities, to find
himself in want of all the real comforts and necessaries of life. Without
care and method, the largest fortune will not, and with them, almost the
smallest will, supply all necessary expenses. As far as you can possibly,
pay ready money for everything you buy and avoid bills. Pay that money,
too, yourself, and not through the hands of any servant, who always
either stipulates poundage, or requires a present for his good word, as
they call it. Where you must have bills (as for meat and drink, clothes,
etc.), pay them regularly every month, and with your own hand. Never,
from a mistaken economy, buy a thing you do not want, because it is
cheap; or from a silly pride, because it is dear. Keep an account in a
book of all that you receive, and of all that you pay; for no man who
knows what he receives and what he pays ever runs out. I do not mean that
you should keep an account of the shillings and half-crowns which you may
spend in chair-hire, operas, etc.: they are unworthy of the time, and of
the ink that they would consume; leave such minutia to dull, penny-wise
fellows; but remember, in economy, as well as in every other part of
life, to have the proper attention to proper objects, and the proper
contempt for little ones. A strong mind sees things in their true
proportions; a weak one views them through a magnifying medium, which,
like the microscope, makes an elephant of a flea: magnifies all little
objects, but cannot receive great ones. I have known many a man pass for
a miser, by saving a penny and wrangling for twopence, who was undoing
himself at the same time by living above his income, and not attending to
essential articles which were above his 'portee'. The sure characteristic
of a sound and strong mind, is to find in everything those certain
bounds, 'quos ultra citrave nequit consistere rectum'. These boundaries
are marked out by a very fine line, which only good sense and attention
can discover; it is much too fine for vulgar eyes. In manners, this line
is good-breeding; beyond it, is troublesome ceremony; short of it, is
unbecoming negligence and inattention. In morals, it divides ostentatious
puritanism from criminal relaxation; in religion, superstition from
impiety: and, in short, every virtue from its kindred vice or weakness. I
think you have sense enough to discover the line; keep it always in your
eye, and learn to walk upon it; rest upon Mr. Harte, and he will poise
you till you are able to go alone. By the way, there are fewer people who
walk well upon that line, than upon the slack rope; and therefore a good
performer shines so much the more.

Your friend Comte Pertingue, who constantly inquires after you, has
written to Comte Salmour, the Governor of the Academy at Turin, to
prepare a room for you there immediately after the Ascension: and has
recommended you to him in a manner which I hope you will give him no
reason to repent or be ashamed of. As Comte Salmour's son, now residing
at The Hague, is my particular acquaintance, I shall have regular and
authentic accounts of all that you do at Turin.

During your stay at Berlin, I expect that you should inform yourself
thoroughly of the present state of the civil, military, and
ecclesiastical government of the King of Prussia's dominions;
particularly of the military, which is upon a better footing in that
country than in any other in Europe.

You will attend at the reviews, see the troops exercised, and inquire
into the numbers of troops and companies in the respective regiments of
horse, foot, and dragoons; the numbers and titles of the commissioned and
non-commissioned officers in the several troops and companies; and also
take care to learn the technical military terms in the German language;
for though you are not to be a military man, yet these military matters
are so frequently the subject of conversation, that you will look very
awkwardly if you are ignorant of them. Moreover, they are commonly the
objects of negotiation, and, as such, fall within your future profession.
You must also inform yourself of the reformation which the King of
Prussia has lately made in the law; by which he has both lessened the
number, and shortened the duration of law-suits; a great work, and worthy
of so great a prince! As he is indisputably the ablest prince in Europe,
every part of his government deserves your most diligent inquiry, and
your most serious attention. It must be owned that you set out well, as a
young politician, by beginning at Berlin, and then going to Turin, where
you will see the next ablest monarch to that of Prussia; so that, if you
are capable of making political reflections, those two princes will
furnish you with sufficient matter for them.

I would have you endeavor to get acquainted with Monsieur de Maupertuis,
who is so eminently distinguished by all kinds of learning and merit,
that one should be both sorry and ashamed of having been even a day in
the same place with him, and not to have seen him. If you should have no
other way of being introduced to him, I will send you a letter from
hence. Monsieur Cagenoni, at Berlin, to whom I know you are recommended,
is a very able man of business, thoroughly informed of every part of
Europe; and his acquaintance, if you deserve and improve it as you should
do, may be of great use to you.

Remember to take the best dancing-master at Berlin, more to teach you to
sit, stand, and walk gracefully, than to dance finely. The Graces, the
Graces; remember the Graces! Adieu!




LETTER LXIII

LONDON, January 24, O. S. 1749.

DEAR BOY: I have received your letter of the 12th, N. S., in which I was
surprised to find no mention of your approaching journey to Berlin,
which, according to the first plan, was to be on the 20th, N. S., and
upon which supposition I have for some time directed my letters to you,
and Mr. Harte, at Berlin. I should be glad that yours were more minute
with regard to your motions and transactions; and I desire that, for the
future, they may contain accounts of what and who you see and hear, in
your several places of residence; for I interest myself as much in the
company you keep, and the pleasures you take, as in the studies you
pursue; and therefore, equally desire to be informed of them all. Another
thing I desire, which is, that you will acknowledge my letters by their
dates, that I may know which you do, and which you do not receive.

As you found your brain considerably affected by the cold, you were very
prudent not to turn it to poetry in that situation; and not less
judicious in declining the borrowed aid of a stove, whose fumigation,
instead of inspiration, would at best have produced what Mr. Pope calls a
souterkin of wit. I will show your letter to Duval, by way of
justification for not answering his challenge; and I think he must allow
the validity of it; for a frozen brain is as unfit to answer a challenge
in poetry, as a blunt sword is for a single combat.

You may if you please, and therefore I flatter myself that you will,
profit considerably by your stay at Berlin, in the article of manners and
useful knowledge. Attention to what you will see and hear there, together
with proper inquiries, and a little care and method in taking notes of
what is more material, will procure you much useful knowledge. Many young
people are so light, so dissipated, and so incurious, that they can
hardly be said to see what they see, or hear what they hear: that is,
they hear in so superficial and inattentive a manner, that they might as
well not see nor hear at all. For instance, if they see a public
building, as a college, an hospital, an arsenal, etc., they content
themselves with the first 'coup d'oeil', and neither take the time nor
the trouble of informing themselves of the material parts of them; which
are the constitution, the rules, and the order and economy in the inside.
You will, I hope, go deeper, and make your way into the substance of
things. For example, should you see a regiment reviewed at Berlin or
Potsdam, instead of contenting yourself with the general glitter of the
collective corps, and saying, 'par maniere d'acquit', that is very fine,
I hope you will ask what number of troops or companies it consists of;
what number of officers of the Etat Major, and what number of
subalternes; how many 'bas officiers', or non-commissioned officers, as
sergeants, corporals, 'anspessades, frey corporals', etc., their pay,
their clothing, and by whom; whether by the colonels, or captains, or
commissaries appointed for that purpose; to whom they are accountable;
the method of recruiting, completing, etc.

The same in civil matters: inform yourself of the jurisdiction of a court
of justice; of the rules and numbers and endowments of a college, or an
academy, and not only of the dimensions of the respective edifices; and
let your letters to me contain these informations, in proportion as you
acquire them.

I often reflect, with the most flattering hopes, how proud I shall be of
you, if you should profit, as you may, of the opportunities which you
have had, still have, and will have, of arriving at perfection; and, on
the other hand, with dread of the grief and shame you will give me if you
do not. May the first be the case! God bless you!




LETTER LXIV

LONDON, February 7, O. S. 1749.

DEAR BOY: You are now come to an age capable of reflection, and I hope
you will do, what, however, few people at your age do, exert it for your
own sake in the search of truth and sound knowledge. I will confess (for
I am not unwilling to discover my secrets to you) that it is not many
years since I have presumed to reflect for myself. Till sixteen or
seventeen I had no reflection; and for many years after that, I made no
use of what I had. I adopted the notions of the books I read, or the
company I kept, without examining whether they were just or not; and I
rather chose to run the risk of easy error, than to take the time and
trouble of investigating truth. Thus, partly from laziness, partly from
dissipation, and partly from the 'mauvaise honte' of rejecting
fashionable notions, I was (as I have since found) hurried away by
prejudices, instead of being guided by reason; and quietly cherished
error, instead of seeking for truth. But since I have taken the trouble
of reasoning for myself, and have had the courage to own that I do so,
you cannot imagine how much my notions of things are altered, and in how
different a light I now see them, from that in which I formerly viewed
them, through the deceitful medium of prejudice or authority. Nay, I may
possibly still retain many errors, which, from long habit, have perhaps
grown into real opinions; for it is very difficult to distinguish habits,
early acquired and long entertained, from the result of our reason and
reflection.

My first prejudice (for I do not mention the prejudices of boys, and
women, such as hobgoblins, ghosts, dreams, spilling salt, etc.) was my
classical enthusiasm, which I received from the books I read, and the
masters who explained them to me. I was convinced there had been no
common sense nor common honesty in the world for these last fifteen
hundred years; but that they were totally extinguished with the ancient
Greek and Roman governments. Homer and Virgil could have no faults,
because they were ancient; Milton and Tasso could have no merit, because
they were modern. And I could almost have said, with regard to the
ancients, what Cicero, very absurdly and unbecomingly for a philosopher,
says with regard to Plato, 'Cum quo errare malim quam cum aliis recte
sentire'. Whereas now, without any extraordinary effort of genius, I have
discovered that nature was the same three thousand years ago as it is at
present; that men were but men then as well as now; that modes and
customs vary often, but that human nature is always the same. And I can
no more suppose that men were better, braver, or wiser, fifteen hundred
or three thousand years ago, than I can suppose that the animals or
vegetables were better then than they are now. I dare assert too, in
defiance of the favorers of the ancients, that Homer's hero, Achilles,
was both a brute and a scoundrel, and consequently an improper character
for the hero of an epic poem; he had so little regard for his country,
that he would not act in defense of it, because he had quarreled with
Agamemnon about a w---e; and then afterward, animated by private
resentment only, he went about killing people basely, I will call it,
because he knew himself invulnerable; and yet, invulnerable as he was, he
wore the strongest armor in the world; which I humbly apprehend to be a
blunder; for a horse-shoe clapped to his vulnerable heel would have been
sufficient. On the other hand, with submission to the favorers of the
moderns, I assert with Mr. Dryden, that the devil is in truth the hero of
Milton's poem; his plan, which he lays, pursues, and at last executes,
being the subject of the poem. From all which considerations I
impartially conclude that the ancients had their excellencies and their
defects, their virtues and their vices, just like the moderns; pedantry
and affectation of learning decide clearly in favor of the former; vanity
and ignorance, as peremptorily in favor of the latter. Religious
prejudices kept pace with my classical ones; and there was a time when I
thought it impossible for the honestest man in the world to be saved out
of the pale of the Church of England, not considering that matters of
opinion do not depend upon the will; and that it is as natural, and as
allowable, that another man should differ in opinion from me, as that I
should differ from him; and that if we are both sincere, we are both
blameless; and should consequently have mutual indulgence for each other.

The next prejudices that I adopted were those of the 'beau monde', in
which as I was determined to shine, I took what are commonly called the
genteel vices to be necessary. I had heard them reckoned so, and without
further inquiry I believed it, or at least should have been ashamed to
have denied it, for fear of exposing myself to the ridicule of those whom
I considered as the models of fine gentlemen. But I am now neither
ashamed nor afraid to assert that those genteel vices, as they are
falsely called, are only so many blemishes in the character of even a man
of the world and what is called a fine gentleman, and degrade him in the
opinions of those very people, to whom he, hopes to recommend himself by
them. Nay, this prejudice often extends so far, that I have known people
pretend to vices they had not, instead of carefully concealing those they
had.

Use and assert your own reason; reflect, examine, and analyze everything,
in order to form a sound and mature judgment; let no (authority) impose
upon your understanding, mislead your actions, or dictate your
conversation. Be early what, if you are not, you will when too late wish
you had been. Consult your reason betimes: I do not say that it will
always prove an unerring guide; for human reason is not infallible; but
it will prove the least erring guide that you can follow. Books and
conversation may assist it; but adopt neither blindly and implicitly; try
both by that best rule, which God has given to direct us, reason. Of all
the troubles, do not decline, as many people do, that of thinking. The
herd of mankind can hardly be said to think; their notions are almost all
adoptive; and, in general, I believe it is better that it should be so,
as such common prejudices contribute more to order and quiet than their
own separate reasonings would do, uncultivated and unimproved as they
are. We have many of those useful prejudices in this country, which I
should be very sorry to see removed. The good Protestant conviction, that
the Pope is both Antichrist and the Whore of Babylon, is a more effectual
preservative in this country against popery, than all the solid and
unanswerable arguments of Chillingworth.

The idle story of the pretender's having been introduced in a warming pan
into the queen's bed, though as destitute of all probability as of all
foundation, has been much more prejudicial to the cause of Jacobitism
than all that Mr. Locke and others have written, to show the
unreasonableness and absurdity of the doctrines of indefeasible
hereditary right, and unlimited passive obedience. And that silly,
sanguine notion, which is firmly entertained here, that one Englishman
can beat three Frenchmen, encourages, and has sometimes enabled, one
Englishman in reality to beat two.

A Frenchman ventures, his life with alacrity 'pour l'honneur du Roi';
were you to change the object, which he has been taught to have in view,
and tell him that it was 'pour le bien de la Patrie', he would very
probably run away. Such gross local prejudices prevail with the herd of
mankind, and do not impose upon cultivated, informed, and reflecting
minds. But then they are notions equally false, though not so glaringly
absurd, which are entertained by people of superior and improved
understandings, merely for want of the necessary pains to investigate,
the proper attention to examine, and the penetration requisite to
determine the truth. Those are the prejudices which I would have you
guard against by a manly exertion and attention of your reasoning
faculty. To mention one instance of a thousand that I could give you: It
is a general prejudice, and has been propagated for these sixteen hundred
years, that arts and sciences cannot flourish under an absolute
government; and that genius must necessarily be cramped where freedom is
restrained. This sounds plausible, but is false in fact. Mechanic arts,
as agriculture, etc., will indeed be discouraged where the profits and
property are, from the nature of the government, insecure. But why the
despotism of a government should cramp the genius of a mathematician, an
astronomer, a poet, or an orator, I confess I never could discover. It
may indeed deprive the poet or the orator of the liberty of treating of
certain subjects in the manner they would wish, but it leaves them
subjects enough to exert genius upon, if they have it. Can an author with
reason complain that he is cramped and shackled, if he is not at liberty
to publish blasphemy, bawdry, or sedition? all which are equally
prohibited in the freest governments, if they are wise and well regulated
ones. This is the present general complaint of the French authors; but
indeed chiefly of the bad ones. No wonder, say they, that England
produces so many great geniuses; people there may think as they please,
and publish what they think. Very true, but what hinders them from
thinking as they please? If indeed they think in manner destructive of
all religion, morality, or good manners, or to the disturbance of the
state, an absolute government will certainly more effectually prohibit
them from, or punish them for publishing such thoughts, than a free one
could do. But how does that cramp the genius of an epic, dramatic, or
lyric poet? or how does it corrupt the eloquence of an orator in the
pulpit or at the bar? The number of good French authors, such as
Corneille, Racine, Moliere, Boileau, and La Fontaine, who seemed to
dispute it with the Augustan age, flourished under the despotism of Lewis
XIV.; and the celebrated authors of the Augustan age did not shine till
after the fetters were riveted upon the Roman people by that cruel and
worthless Emperor. The revival of letters was not owing, neither, to any
free government, but to the encouragement and protection of Leo X. and
Francis I; the one as absolute a pope, and the other as despotic a
prince, as ever reigned. Do not mistake, and imagine that while I am only
exposing a prejudice, I am speaking in favor of arbitrary power; which
from my soul I abhor, and look upon as a gross and criminal violation of
the natural rights of mankind. Adieu.




LETTER LXV

LONDON, February 28, O. S. 1749.

DEAR BOY: I was very much pleased with the account that you gave me of
your reception at Berlin; but I was still better pleased with the account
which Mr. Harte sent me of your manner of receiving that reception; for
he says that you behaved yourself to those crowned heads with all the
respect and modesty due to them; but at the same time, without being any
more embarrassed than if you had been conversing with your equals. This
easy respect is the perfection of good-breeding, which nothing but
superior good sense, or a long usage of the world, can produce, and as in
your case it could not be the latter, it is a pleasing indication to me
of the former.

You will now, in the course of a few months, have been rubbed at three of
the considerable courts of Europe,-Berlin, Dresden, and Vienna; so that I
hope you will arrive at Turin tolerably smooth and fit for the last
polish. There you may get the best, there being no court I know of that
forms more well-bred, and agreeable people. Remember now, that
good-breeding, genteel carriage, address, and even dress (to a certain
degree), are become serious objects, and deserve a part of your
attention.

The day, if well employed, is long enough for them all. One half of it
bestowed upon your studies and your exercises, will finish your mind and
your body; the remaining part of it, spent in good company, will form
your manners, and complete your character. What would I not give to have
you read Demosthenes critically in the morning, and understand him better
than anybody; at noon, behave yourself better than any person at court;
and in the evenings, trifle more agreeably than anybody in mixed
companies? All this you may compass if you please; you have the means,
you have the opportunities. Employ them, for God's sake, while you may,
and make yourself that all-accomplished man that I wish to have you. It
entirely depends upon these two years; they are the decisive ones.

I send you here inclosed a letter of recommendation to Monsieur Capello,
at Venice, which you will deliver him immediately upon your arrival,
accompanying it with compliments from me to him and Madame, both of whom
you have seen here. He will, I am sure, be both very civil and very
useful to you there, as he will also be afterward at Rome, where he is
appointed to go ambassador. By the way, wherever you are, I would advise
you to frequent, as much as you can, the Venetian Ministers; who are
always better informed of the courts they reside at than any other
minister; the strict and regular accounts, which they are obliged to give
to their own government, making them very diligent and inquisitive.