Letters to His Son, 1751
T >> The Earl of Chesterfield >> Letters to His Son, 1751
I believe Mr. Hayes thinks that you have slighted him a little of late,
since you have got into so much other company. I do not by any means
blame you for not frequenting his house so much as you did at first,
before you had got into so many other houses more entertaining and more
instructing than his; on the contrary, you do very well; but, however, as
he was extremely civil to you, take care to be so to him, and make up in
manner what you omit in matter. See him, dine with him before you come
away, and ask his commands for England.
Your triangular seal is done, and I have given it to an English
gentleman, who sets out in a week for Paris, and who will deliver it to
Sir John Lambert for you.
I cannot conclude this letter without returning again to the showish, the
ornamental, the shining parts of your character; which, if you neglect,
upon my word you will render the solid ones absolutely useless; nay, such
is the present turn of the world, that some valuable qualities are even
ridiculous, if not accompanied by the genteeler accomplishments.
Plainness, simplicity, and quakerism, either in dress or manners, will by
no means do; they must both be laced and embroidered; speaking, or
writing sense, without elegance and turn, will be very little persuasive;
and the best figure in the world, without air and address, will be very
ineffectual. Some pedants may have told you that sound sense and learning
stand in, need of no ornaments; and, to support that assertion, elegantly
quote the vulgar proverb, that GOOD WINE NEEDS NO BUSH; but surely the
little experience you have already had of the world must have convinced
you that the contrary of that assertion is true. All those
accomplishments are now in your power; think of them, and of them only. I
hope you frequent La Foire St. Laurent, which I see is now open; you will
improve more by going there with your mistress, than by staying at home
and reading Euclid with your geometry master. Adieu. 'Divertissez-vous,
il n'y a rien de tel'.
LETTER CLII
GREENWICH, July 15, O. S. 1751
MY DEAR FRIEND: As this is the last, or last letter but one, that I think
I shall write before I have the pleasure of seeing you here, it may not
be amiss to prepare you a little for our interview, and for the time we
shall pass together. Before kings and princes meet, ministers on each
side adjust the important points of precedence, arm chairs, right hand
and left, etc., so that they know previously what they are to expect,
what they have to trust to; and it is right they should; for they
commonly envy or hate, but most certainly distrust each other. We shall
meet upon very different terms; we want no such preliminaries: you know
my tenderness, I know your affection. My only object, therefore, is to
make your short stay with me as useful as I can to you; and yours, I
hope, is to co-operate with me. Whether, by making it wholesome, I shall
make it pleasant to you, I am not sure. Emetics and cathartics I shall
not administer, because I am sure you do not want them; but for
alteratives you must expect a great many; and I can tell you that I have
a number of NOSTRUMS, which I shall communicate to nobody but yourself.
To speak without a metaphor, I shall endeavor to assist your youth with
all the experience that I have purchased, at the price of seven and fifty
years. In order to this, frequent reproofs, corrections, and admonitions
will be necessary; but then, I promise you, that they shall be in a
gentle, friendly, and secret manner; they shall not put you out of
countenance in company, nor out of humor when we are alone. I do not
expect that, at nineteen, you should have that knowledge of the world,
those manners, that dexterity, which few people have at nine-and-twenty.
But I will endeavor to give them you; and I am sure you will endeavor to
learn them, as far as your youth, my experience, and the time we shall
pass together, will allow. You may have many inaccuracies (and to be sure
you have, for who has not at your age?) which few people will tell you
of, and some nobody can tell you of but myself. You may possibly have
others, too, which eyes less interested, and less vigilant than mine, do
not discover; all those you shall hear of from one whose tenderness for
you will excite his curiosity and sharpen his penetration. The smallest
inattention or error in manners, the minutest inelegance of diction, the
least awkwardness in your dress and carriage, will not escape my
observation, nor pass without amicable correction. Two, the most intimate
friends in the world, can freely tell each other their faults, and even
their crimes, but cannot possibly tell each other of certain little
weaknesses; awkwardnesses, and blindnesses of self-love; to authorize
that unreserved freedom, the relation between us is absolutely necessary.
For example, I had a very worthy friend, with whom I was intimate enough
to tell him his faults; he had but few; I told him of them; he took it
kindly of me, and corrected them. But then, he had some weaknesses that I
could never tell him of directly, and which he was so little sensible of
himself, that hints of them were lost upon him. He had a scrag neck, of
about a yard long; notwithstanding which, bags being in fashion, truly he
would wear one to his wig, and did so; but never behind him, for, upon
every motion of his head, his bag came forward over one shoulder or the
other. He took it into his head too, that he must occasionally dance
minuets, because other people did; and he did so, not only extremely ill,
but so awkward, so disjointed, slim, so meagre, was his figure, that had
he danced as well as ever Marcel did, it would have been ridiculous in
him to have danced at all. I hinted these things to him as plainly as
friendship would allow, and to no purpose; but to have told him the
whole, so as to cure him, I must have been his father, which, thank God,
I am not. As fathers commonly go, it is seldom a misfortune to be
fatherless; and, considering the general run of sons, as seldom a
misfortune to be childless. You and I form, I believe, an exception to
that rule; for, I am persuaded that we would neither of us change our
relation, were it in our power. You will, I both hope and believe, be not
only the comfort, but the pride of my age; and, I am sure, I will be the
support, the friend, the guide of your youth. Trust me without reserve; I
will advise you without private interest, or secret envy. Mr. Harte will
do so too; but still there may be some little things proper for you to
know, and necessary for you to correct, which even his friendship would
not let him tell you of so freely as I should; and some, of which he may
not possibly be so good a judge of as I am, not having lived so much in
the great world.
One principal topic of our conversation will be, not only the purity but
the elegance of the English language; in both which you are very
deficient. Another will be the constitution of this country, of which, I
believe, you know less than of most other countries in Europe. Manners,
attentions, and address, will also be the frequent subjects of our
lectures; and whatever I know of that important and necessary art, the
art of pleasing. I will unreservedly communicate to you. Dress too
(which, as things are, I can logically prove, requires some attention)
will not always escape our notice. Thus, my lectures will be more
various, and in some respects more useful than Professor Mascow's, and
therefore, I can tell you, that I expect to be paid for them; but, as
possibly you would not care to part with your ready money, and as I do
not think that it would be quite handsome in me to accept it, I will
compound for the payment, and take it in attention and practice.
Pray remember to part with all your friends, acquaintances, and
mistresses, if you have any at Paris, in such a manner as may make them
not only willing but impatient to see you there again. Assure them of
your desire of returning to them; and do it in a manner that they may
think you in earnest, that is 'avec onction et une espece
d'attendrissement'. All people say, pretty near the same things upon
those occasions; it is the manner only that makes the difference; and
that difference is great. Avoid, however, as much as you can, charging
yourself with commissions, in your return from hence to Paris; I know, by
experience, that they are exceedingly troublesome, commonly expensive,
and very seldom satisfactory at last, to the persons who gave them; some
you cannot refuse, to people to whom you are obliged, and would oblige in
your turn; but as to common fiddle-faddle commissions, you may excuse
yourself from them with truth, by saying that you are to return to Paris
through Flanders, and see all those great towns; which I intend you shall
do, and stay a week or ten days at Brussels. Adieu! A good journey to
you, if this is my last; if not, I can repeat again what I shall wish
constantly.
LETTER CLIII
LONDON, December 19, O. S. 1751--[Note the date, which indicates that the
sojourn with the author has ended.]
MY DEAR FRIEND: You are now entered upon a scene of business, where I
hope you will one day make a figure. Use does a great deal, but care and
attention must be joined to it. The first thing necessary in writing
letters of business, is extreme clearness and perspicuity; every
paragraph should be so clear and unambiguous, that the dullest fellow in
the world may not be able to mistake it, nor obliged to read it twice in
order to understand it. This necessary clearness implies a correctness,
without excluding an elegance of style. Tropes, figures, antitheses,
epigrams, etc., would be as misplaced and as impertinent in letters of
business, as they are sometimes (if judiciously used) proper and pleasing
in familiar letters, upon common and trite subjects. In business, an
elegant simplicity, the result of care, not of labor, is required.
Business must be well, not affectedly dressed; but by no means
negligently. Let your first attention be to clearness, and read every
paragraph after you have written it, in the critical view of discovering
whether it is possible that any one man can mistake the true sense of it:
and correct it accordingly.
Our pronouns and relatives often create obscurity or ambiguity; be
therefore exceedingly attentive to them, and take care to mark out with
precision their particular relations. For example, Mr. Johnson acquainted
me that he had seen Mr. Smith, who had promised him to speak to Mr.
Clarke, to return him (Mr. Johnson) those papers, which he (Mr. Smith)
had left some time ago with him (Mr. Clarke): it is better to repeat a
name, though unnecessarily, ten times, than to have the person mistaken
once. WHO, you know, is singly relative to persons, and cannot be applied
to things; WHICH and THAT are chiefly relative to things, but not
absolutely exclusive of persons; for one may say, the man THAT robbed or
killed such-a-one; but it is better to say, the man WHO robbed or killed.
One never says, the man or the woman WHICH. WHICH and THAT, though
chiefly relative to things, cannot be always used indifferently as to
things, and the 'euoovca' must sometimes determine their place. For
instance, the letter WHICH I received from you, WHICH you referred to in
your last, WHICH came by Lord Albemarle's messenger WHICH I showed to
such-a-one; I would change it thus--The letter THAT I received from you;
WHICH you referred to in your last, THAT came by Lord Albemarle's
messenger, and WHICH I showed to such-a-one.
Business does not exclude (as possibly you wish it did) the usual terms
of politeness and good-breeding; but, on the contrary, strictly requires
them: such as, I HAVE THE HONOR TO ACQUAINT YOUR LORDSHIP; PERMIT ME TO
ASSURE YOU; IF I MAY BE ALLOWED TO GIVE MY OPINION, etc. For the minister
abroad, who writes to the minister at home, writes to his superior;
possibly to his patron, or at least to one who he desires should be so.
Letters of business will not only admit of, but be the better for CERTAIN
GRACES--but then, they must be scattered with a sparing and skillful
hand; they must fit their place exactly. They must decently adorn without
encumbering, and modestly shine without glaring. But as this is the
utmost degree of perfection in letters of business, I would not advise
you to attempt those embellishments, till you have first laid your
foundation well.
Cardinal d'Ossat's letters are the true letters of business; those of
Monsieur d'Avaux are excellent; Sir William Temple's are very pleasing,
but, I fear, too affected. Carefully avoid all Greek or Latin quotations;
and bring no precedents from the VIRTUOUS SPARTANS, THE POLITE ATHENIANS,
AND THE BRAVE ROMANS. Leave all that to futile pedants. No flourishes, no
declamation. But (I repeat it again) there is an elegant simplicity and
dignity of style absolutely necessary for good letters of business;
attend to that carefully. Let your periods be harmonious, without seeming
to be labored; and let them not be too long, for that always occasions a
degree of obscurity. I should not mention correct orthography, but that
you very often fail in that particular, which will bring ridicule upon
you; for no man is allowed to spell ill. I wish too that your handwriting
were much better; and I cannot conceive why it is not, since every man
may certainly write whatever hand he pleases. Neatness in folding up,
sealing, and directing your packets, is by no means to be neglected;
though, I dare say, you think it is. But there is something in the
exterior, even of a packet, that may please or displease; and
consequently worth some attention.
You say that your time is very well employed; and so it is, though as yet
only in the outlines, and first ROUTINE of business. They are previously
necessary to be known; they smooth the way for parts and dexterity.
Business requires no conjuration nor supernatural talents, as people
unacquainted with it are apt to think. Method, diligence, and discretion,
will carry a man, of good strong common sense, much higher than the
finest parts, without them, can do. 'Par negotiis, neque supra', is the
true character of a man of business; but then it implies ready attention
and no ABSENCES, and a flexibility and versatility of attention from one
object to another, without being engrossed by anyone.
Be upon your guard against the pedantry and affectation of business which
young people are apt to fall into, from the pride of being concerned in
it young. They look thoughtful, complain of the weight of business, throw
out mysterious hints, and seem big with secrets which they do not know.
Do you, on the contrary, never talk of business but to those with whom
you are to transact it; and learn to seem vacuus and idle, when you have
the most business. Of all things, the 'volte sciollo', and the 'pensieri
stretti', are necessary. Adieu.
LETTER CLIV
LONDON, December 30, O. S. 1751
MY DEAR FRIEND: The parliaments are the courts of justice of France, and
are what our courts of justice in Westminster-Hall are here. They used
anciently to follow the court, and administer justice in presence of the
King. Philip le Bel first fixed it at Paris, by an edict of 1302. It
consisted then of but one chambre, which was called 'la Chambre des
Prelats', most of the members being ecclesiastics; but the multiplicity
of business made it by degrees necessary to create several other
chambres. It consists now of seven chambres:
'La Grande Chambre', which is the highest court of justice, and to which
appeals lie from the others.
'Les cinq Chambres des Enquetes', which are like our Common Pleas, and
Court of Exchequer.
'La Tournelle', which is the court for criminal justice, and answers to
our Old Bailey and King's Bench.
There are in all twelve parliaments in France: 1. Paris 2. Toulouse
3. Grenoble 4. Bourdeaux 5. Dijon 6. Rouen 7. Aix en Provence
8. Rennes en Bretagne 9. Pau en Navarre 10. Metz 11. Dole en Franche
Comte 12. Douay
There are three 'Conseils Souverains', which may almost be called
parliaments; they are those of:
Perpignan Arras Alsace
For further particulars of the French parliaments, read 'Bernard de la
Rochefavin des Parlemens de France', and other authors, who have treated
that subject constitutionally. But what will be still better, converse
upon it with people of sense and knowledge, who will inform you of the
particular objects of the several chambres, and the businesses of the
respective members, as, 'les Presidens, les Presidens a Mortier' (these
last so called from their black velvet caps laced with gold), 'les
Maitres tres des Requetes, les Greffiers, le Procureur General, les
Avocats Generaux, les Conseillers', etc. The great point in dispute is
concerning the powers of the parliament of Paris in matters of state, and
relatively to the Crown. They pretend to the powers of the States-General
of France when they used to be assembled (which, I think, they have not
been since the reign of Lewis the Thirteenth, in the year 1615). The
Crown denies those pretensions, and considers them only as courts of
justice. Mezeray seems to be on the side of the parliament in this
question, which is very well worth your inquiry. But, be that as it will,
the parliament of Paris is certainly a very respectable body, and much
regarded by the whole kingdom. The edicts of the Crown, especially those
for levying money on the subjects, ought to be registered in parliament;
I do not say to have their effect, for the Crown would take good care of
that; but to have a decent appearance, and to procure a willing
acquiescence in the nation. And the Crown itself, absolute as it is, does
not love that strong opposition, and those admirable remonstrances, which
it sometimes meets with from the parliaments. Many of those detached
pieces are very well worth your collecting; and I remember, a year or two
ago, a remonstrance of the parliament of Douay, upon the subject, as I
think, of the 'Vingtieme', which was in my mind one of the finest and
most moving compositions I ever read. They owned themselves, indeed, to
be slaves, and showed their chains: but humbly begged of his Majesty to
make them a little lighter, and less galling.
THE STATES OF FRANCE were general assemblies of the three states or
orders of the kingdom; the Clergy, the Nobility, and the 'Tiers Etat',
that is, the people. They used to be called together by the King, upon
the most important affairs of state, like our Lords and Commons in
parliament, and our Clergy in convocation. Our parliament is our states,
and the French parliaments are only their courts of justice. The Nobility
consisted of all those of noble extraction, whether belonging to the
SWORD or to the ROBE, excepting such as were chosen (which sometimes
happened) by the Tiers Etat as their deputies to the States-General. The
Tiers Etat was exactly our House of Commons, that is, the people,
represented by deputies of their own choosing. Those who had the most
considerable places, 'dans la robe', assisted at those assemblies, as
commissioners on the part of the Crown. The States met, for the first
time that I can find (I mean by the name of 'les etats'), in the reign of
Pharamond, 424, when they confirmed the Salic law. From that time they
have been very frequently assembled, sometimes upon important occasions,
as making war and peace, reforming abuses, etc.; at other times, upon
seemingly trifling ones, as coronations, marriages, etc. Francis the
First assembled them, in 1526, to declare null and void his famous treaty
of Madrid, signed and sworn to by him during his captivity there. They
grew troublesome to the kings and to their ministers, and were but seldom
called after the power of the Crown grew strong; and they have never been
heard of since the year 1615. Richelieu came and shackled the nation, and
Mazarin and Lewis the Fourteenth riveted the shackles.
There still subsist in some provinces in France, which are called 'pais d
etats', an humble local imitation, or rather mimicry, of the great
'etats', as in Languedoc, Bretagne, etc. They meet, they speak, they
grumble, and finally submit to whatever the King orders.
Independently of the intrinsic utility of this kind of knowledge to every
man of business, it is a shame for any man to be ignorant of it,
especially relatively to any country he has been long in. Adieu.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
A favor may make an enemy, and an injury may make a friend
Affectation of business
Applauded often, without approving
At the first impulse of passion, be silent till you can be soft
Avoid cacophony, and, what is very near as bad, monotony
Be silent till you can be soft
Being intelligible is now no longer the fashion
Better refuse a favor gracefully, than to grant it clumsily
Bolingbroke
Bruyere
Business must be well, not affectedly dressed
Business now is to shine, not to weigh
But stoops to conquer, and but kneels to rise
Cease to love when you cease to be agreeable
Chit-chat, useful to keep off improper and too serious subjects
Committing acts of hostility upon the Graces
Concealed what learning I had
Consciousness of merit makes a man of sense more modest
Disagreeable things may be done so agreeably as almost to oblige
Disputes with heat
Dr Fell
Easy without negligence
Elegance in one language will reproduce itself in all
Every man knows that he understands religion and politics
Every numerous assembly is MOB
Everybody is good for something
Expresses himself with more fire than elegance
Frank without indiscretion
Full-bottomed wigs were contrived for his humpback
Gentleness of manners, with firmness of mind
German, who has taken into his head that he understands French
Grow wiser when it is too late
Habitual eloquence
Hand of a school-boy
Hardened to the wants and distresses of mankind
Have you learned to carve?
If free from the guilt, be free from the suspicion, too
Inclined to be fat, but I hope you will decline it
Indolently say that they cannot do
Information implies our previous ignorance; it must be sweetened
Information is, in a certain degree, mortifying
Insinuates himself only into the esteem of fools
It is a real inconvenience to anybody to be fat
Know, yourself and others
Knowing how much you have, and how little you want
Last beautiful varnish, which raises the colors
Learn to keep your own secrets
Loved without being despised, and feared without being hated
Man of sense may be in haste, but can never be in a hurry
Mangles what he means to carve
Mazarin and Lewis the Fourteenth riveted the shackles
Meditation and reflection
Mere reason and good sense is never to be talked to a mob
Mistimes or misplaces everything
Mitigating, engaging words do by no means weaken your argument
MOB: Understanding they have collectively none
Often necessary, not to manifest all one feels
One must often yield, in order to prevail
Only because she will not, and not because she cannot
Our frivolous dissertations upon the weather, or upon whist
Outward air of modesty to all he does
Richelieu came and shackled the nation
Rochefoucault
Rochefoucault, who, I am afraid, paints man very exactly
See what you see, and to hear what you hear
Seems to have no opinion of his own
Seldom a misfortune to be childless
She has uncommon, sense and knowledge for a woman
Speaking to himself in the glass
Style is the dress of thoughts
Success turns much more upon manner than matter
Swift
Tacitus
Take characters, as they do most things, upon trust
They thought I informed, because I pleased them
Unaffected silence upon that subject is the only true medium
Unintelligible to his readers, and sometimes to himself
Use palliatives when you contradict
We love to be pleased better than to be informed
Woman like her, who has always pleased, and often been pleased
Women are the only refiners of the merit of men
Yielded commonly without conviction