Letters to His Son, 1752

T >> The Earl of Chesterfield >> Letters to His Son, 1752


I have had no letter from you since your arrival at Paris, though you
must have been long enough there to have written me two or three. In
about ten or twelve days I propose leaving this place, and going to
London; I have found considerable benefit by my stay here, but not all
that I want. Make my compliments to Lord Albemarle.




LETTER CLXXXIII

BATH, November 28, 1752

MY DEAR FRIEND: Since my last to you, I have read Madame Maintenon's
"Letters"; I am sure they are genuine, and they both entertained and
informed me. They have brought me acquainted with the character of that
able and artful lady; whom I am convinced that I now know much better
than her directeur the Abby de Fenelon (afterward Archbishop of Cambray)
did, when he wrote her the 185th letter; and I know him the better too
for that letter. The Abby, though brimful of the divine love, had a great
mind to be first minister, and cardinal, in order, NO DOUBT, to have an
opportunity of doing the more good. His being 'directeur' at that time to
Madame Maintenon, seemed to be a good step toward those views. She put
herself upon him for a saint, and he was weak enough to believe it; he,
on the other hand, would have put himself upon her for a saint too,
which, I dare say, she did not believe; but both of them knew that it was
necessary for them to appear saints to Lewis the Fourteenth, who they
were very sure was a bigot. It is to be presumed, nay, indeed, it is
plain by that 185th letter that Madame Maintenon had hinted to her
directeur some scruples of conscience, with relation to her commerce with
the King; and which I humbly apprehend to have been only some scruples of
prudence, at once to flatter the bigot character, and increase the
desires of the King. The pious Abbe, frightened out of his wits, lest the
King should impute to the 'directeur' any scruples or difficulties which
he might meet with on the part of the lady, writes her the
above-mentioned letter; in which he not only bids her not tease the King
by advice and exhortations, but to have the utmost submission to his
will; and, that she may not mistake the nature of that submission, he
tells her it is the same that Sarah had for Abraham; to which submission
Isaac perhaps was owing. No bawd could have written a more seducing
letter to an innocent country girl, than the 'directeur' did to his
'penitente'; who I dare say had no occasion for his good advice. Those
who would justify the good 'directeur', alias the pimp, in this affair,
must not attempt to do it by saying that the King and Madame Maintenon
were at that time privately married; that the directeur knew it; and that
this was the meaning of his 'enigme'. That is absolutely impossible; for
that private marriage must have removed all scruples between the parties;
nay, could not have been contracted upon any other principle, since it
was kept private, and consequently prevented no public scandal. It is
therefore extremely evident that Madame Maintenon could not be married to
the King at the time when she scrupled granting, and when the 'directeur'
advised her to grant, those favors which Sarah with so much submission
granted to Abraham: and what the 'directeur' is pleased to call 'le
mystere de Dieu', was most evidently a state of concubinage. The letters
are very well worth your reading; they throw light upon many things of
those times.

I have just received a letter from Sir William Stanhope, from Lyons; in
which he tells me that he saw you at Paris, that he thinks you a little
grown, but that you do not make the most of it, for that you stoop still:
'd'ailleurs' his letter was a panegyric of you.

The young Comte de Schullemburg, the Chambellan whom you knew at Hanover,
is come over with the King, 'et fait aussi vos eloges'.

Though, as I told you in my last, I have done buying pictures, by way of
'virtu', yet there are some portraits of remarkable people that would
tempt me. For instance, if you could by chance pick up at Paris, at a
reasonable price, and undoubted originals (whether heads, half lengths,
or whole lengths, no matter) of Cardinals Richelieu, Mazarin, and Retz,
Monsieur de Turenne, le grand Prince de Condo; Mesdames de Montespan, de
Fontanges, de Montbazon, de Sevigne, de Maintenon, de Chevreuse, de
Longueville, d'Olonne, etc., I should be tempted to purchase them. I am
sensible that they can only be met with, by great accident, at family
sales and auctions, so I only mention the affair to you eventually.

I do not understand, or else I do not remember, what affair you mean in
your last letter; which you think will come to nothing, and for which,
you say, I had once a mind that you should take the road again. Explain
it to me.

I shall go to town in four or five days, and carry back with me a little
more hearing than I brought; but yet, not half enough for common wants.
One wants ready pocket-money much oftener than one wants great sums; and
to use a very odd expression, I want to hear at sight. I love every-day
senses, every-day wit and entertainment; a man who is only good on
holydays is good for very little. Adieu.




LETTER CLXXXIV

Christmas Day, 1752

MY DEAR FRIEND: A tyrant with legions at his com mand may say, Oderint
modo timeant; though he is a fool if he says it, and a greater fool if he
thinks it. But a private man who can hurt but few, though he can please
many, must endeavor to be loved, for he cannot be feared in general.
Popularity is his only rational and sure foundation. The good-will, the
affections, the love of the public, can alone raise him to any
considerable height. Should you ask me how he is to acquire them, I will
answer, By desiring them. No man ever deserved, who did not desire them;
and no man both deserved and desired them who had them not, though many
have enjoyed them merely by desiring, and without deserving them. You do
not imagine, I believe, that I mean by this public love the sentimental
love of either lovers or intimate friends; no, that is of another nature,
and confined to a very narrow circle; but I mean that general good-will
which a man may acquire in the world, by the arts of pleasing
respectively exerted according to the rank, the situation, and the turn
of mind of those whom he hath to do with. The pleasing impressions which
he makes upon them will engage their affections and their good wishes,
and even their good offices as far (that is) as they are not inconsistent
with their own interests; for further than that you are not to expect
from three people in the course of your life, even were it extended to
the patriarchal term. Could I revert to the age of twenty, and carry back
with me all the experience that forty years more have taught me, I can
assure you, that I would employ much the greatest part of my time in
engaging the good-will, and in insinuating myself into the predilection
of people in general, instead of directing my endeavors to please (as I
was too apt to do) to the man whom I immediately wanted, or the woman I
wished for, exclusively of all others. For if one happens (and it will
sometimes happen to the ablest man) to fail in his views with that man or
that woman, one is at a loss to know whom to address one's self to next,
having offended in general, by that exclusive and distinguished
particular application. I would secure a general refuge in the good-will
of the multitude, which is a great strength to any man; for both
ministers and mistresses choose popular and fashionable favorites. A man
who solicits a minister, backed by the general good-will and good wishes
of mankind, solicits with great weight and great probability of success;
and a woman is strangely biassed in favor of a man whom she sees in
fashion, and hears everybody speak well of. This useful art of
insinuation consists merely of various little things. A graceful motion,
a significant look, a trifling attention, an obliging word dropped 'a
propos', air, dress, and a thousand other undefinable things, all
severally little ones, joined together, make that happy and inestimable
composition, THE ART OF PLEASING. I have in my life seen many a very
handsome woman who has not pleased me, and many very sensible men who
have disgusted me. Why? only for want of those thousand little means to
please, which those women, conscious of their beauty, and those men of
their sense, have been grossly enough mistaken to neglect. I never was so
much in love in my life, as I was with a woman who was very far from
being handsome; but then she was made up of graces, and had all the arts
of pleasing. The following verses, which I have read in some
congratulatory poem prefixed to some work, I have forgot which, express
what I mean in favor of what pleases preferably to what is generally
called mare solid and instructive:

"I would an author like a mistress try,
Not by a nose, a lip, a cheek, or eye,
But by some nameless power to give me joy."

Lady Chesterfield bids me make you many compliments; she showed me your
letter of recommendation of La Vestres; with which I was very well
pleased: there is a pretty turn in it; I wish you would always speak as
genteelly. I saw another letter from a lady at Paris, in which there was
a high panegyrical paragraph concerning you. I wish it were every word of
it literally true; but, as it comes from a very little, pretty, white
hand, which is suspected, and I hope justly, of great partiality to you:
'il en faut rabattre quelque chose, et meme en le faisant it y aura
toujours d'assez beaux restes'. Adieu.




ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Art of pleasing is the most necessary
Assenting, but without being servile and abject
Assertion instead of argument
Attacked by ridicule, and, punished with contempt
Bold, but with great seeming modesty
Close, without being costive
Command of our temper, and of our countenance
Company is, in truth, a constant state of negotiation
Consider things in the worst light, to show your skill
Darkness visible
Defended by arms, adorned by manners, and improved by laws
Doing nothing, and might just as well be asleep
Endeavor to hear, and know all opinions
Enjoy all those advantages
Few people know how to love, or how to hate
Fools, who can never be undeceived
Frank, but without indiscretion
Frequently make friends of enemies, and enemies of friends
Grave without the affectation of wisdom
Horace
How troublesome an old correspondent must be to a young one
I CANNOT DO SUCH A THING
Ignorant of their natural rights, cherished their chains
Inattention
Infallibly to be gained by every sort of flattery
Judges from the appearances of things, and not from the reality
Keep your own temper and artfully warm other people's
King's popularity is a better guard than their army
Lay aside the best book
Le mystere de Dieu
Lewis XIV
Made him believe that the world was made for him
Make every man I met with like me, and every woman love me
Man or woman cannot resist an engaging exterior
Man who is only good on holydays is good for very little
Milton
Never seek for wit; if it presents itself, well and good
Not making use of any one capital letter
Notes by which dances are now pricked down as well as tunes
Old fellow ought to seem wise whether he really' be so or not
Please all who are worth pleasing; offend none
Pleasures do not commonly last so long as life
Polite, but without the troublesome forms and stiffness
Prejudices are our mistresses
Quarrel with them when they are grown up, for being spoiled
Read with caution and distrust
Reason is at best our wife
Ruined their own son by what they called loving him
Secret, without being dark and mysterious
Seeming inattention to the person who is speaking to you
Talent of hating with good-breeding and loving with prudence
The longest life is too short for knowledge
Trifles that concern you are not trifles to me
Truth, but not the whole truth, must be the invariable principle
Useful sometimes to see the things which one ought to avoid
Vanity
Voltaire
Where one would gain people, remember that nothing is little
Wife, very often heard indeed, but seldom minded
Wit may create many admirers but makes few friends
Work there as a volunteer in that bureau
Yahoos
Young fellow ought to be wiser than he should seem to be