C. and C. Whittingham, Chiswick. LETTERS WRITTEN BY THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD TO HIS SON. IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED FOR THOMAS TEGG, 73, CHEAPS I DE *. R. M. TIMS, DUBLIN ; AND R. GRIFFIN AND CO. GLASGOW. 1827. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD NORTH, FIRST LORD COMMISSIONER OF THE TREASURY, CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER. MY LORD, Presuming on the friendship with which your Lordship honoured me in the earlier part of our lives, the remembrance of which I shall ever retain with the most lively and real sentiments of gratitude, under the sanc- tion of your name, I beg leave to introduce to the world the following Letters. I hope your Lordship's approbation of a work, written by the late Earl of Ches- terfield, on so important a subject as Education, will not fail to secure that of the Public : and I shall then feel myself a Vi DEDICATION. happy in the assured merit of ushering into the world so useful a performance. The usual style of Dedications would, I am confident, be unpleasing to your Lord- ship ; and I therefore decline it. Merit so conspicuous as yours requires no panegyric. My only view in dedicating this work to your Lordship, is, that it may be a lasting memorial, how much, and how really the character of the Great Minister, united to that of the Virtuous Man, is respected by the disinterested and unprejudiced ; and by none more than, My Lord, Your Lordship's most obedient, And most humble Servant, EUGENIA STANHOPE. Golden Square, March the 1st, 1774. ADVERTISEMENT. The death of the late Earl of Chesterfield is so recent, his Family, his Character, and his Talents so well known, that it would be unnecessary to attempt any account of his Lordship's life. But, as these Letters will probably descend to pos- terity, it may not be improper to explain the general scope of them, and the reason that in- duced him to write on the subject of Education. It is well known, that the late Earl of Ches- terfield had a natural Son, whom he loved with the most unbounded affection, and whose Edu- cation was, for many years, the chief engage- ment of his life. After furnishing him with the most valuable treasures of ancient and modern Learning, to those acquisitions he was desirous of adding that knowledge of Men, and Things, which he himself had acquired by long and great experience. With this view were written the a £ vill ADVERTISEMENT. following Letters ; which, the Reader will ob- serve, begin with those dawnings of instruction adapted to the capacity of a Boy, and rising gradually by precepts and monitions, calculated to direct and guard the age of incautious Youth, finish with the advice and knowledge requisite to form the Man, ambitious to shine as an ac- complished Courtier, an Orator in the Senate, or a Minister at foreign Courts. In order to effect these purposes, his Lordship, ever anxious to fix in his Son a scrupulous ad- herence to the strictest Morality, appears to have thought it the first, and most indispensable ob- ject — to lay, in the earliest period of life, a firm foundation in good Principles and sound Re- ligion. His next point was, to give him a perfect knowledge of the dead Languages, and all the different branches of solid Learning, by the study of the best ancient Authors ; and also such a general idea of the Sciences as it is a disgrace to a gentleman, not to possess. The article of instruction with which he concludes his System of Education, and which he more particularly enforces throughout the whole Work, is the study of that useful and extensive Science, the Knowledge of Mankind : in the course of which appears the nicest investigation of the Human Heart, and the springs of Human Actions. From hence we find him induced to lay so great a stress on what are generally called Accomplish- ADVERTISEMENT. ix ments, as most indispensably requisite to finish the amiable and brilliant part of a complete cha- racter. It would be unnecessary to expatiate on the merits of such a Work, executed by so great a Master. They cannot but be obvious to every person of sense ; the more, as nothing of this sort has (I believe) ever been produced in the English language. The candour of the Public, to which these Letters appeal, will determine the amusement and instruction they afford. I flatter myself, they will be read with general satisfaction ; as the principal, and by far the greater part of them, were written when the late Earl of Chester- field was in the full vigour of his mind, and pos- sessed all those qualifications for which he was so justly admired in England, revered in Ireland, and esteemed wherever known. Celebrated all over Europe for his superior Talents as an Epistolary writer, for the brilliancy of his Wit, and the solidity of his extensive Knowledge, will it be thought too presumptuous to assert, that he exerted all those faculties to their utmost, upon his favourite subject— Educa- tion ? And that, in order to form the Mind of a darling Son, he even exhausted those powers which he was so universally allowed to possess ? I do not doubt but those who were much con- nected with the Author, during that series of years in which he wrote the following Letters, \ AlWER TISKMENT. will be ready to vouch the truth of the above assertion. What I can, and do ascertain is, the Authenticity of this Publication ; which com- prises not a single line, that is not the late Earl of Chesterfield's. Some, perhaps, may be of opinion, that the first letters in this collection, intended for the instruction of a child, then under seven years of age, were too trifling to merit publication. They are, however, inserted by the advice of several gentlemen of learning, and real judgment, who considered the whole as absolutely necessary, to form a complete system of education. And, indeed, the Reader will find his Lordship repeat- edly telling his Son, that his affection for him makes him look upon no instruction, which may be of service to him, as too trifling or too low ; I, therefore, did not think myself authorized to suppress what, to so experienced a man, appeared requisite to the completion of his undertaking. And, upon this point, I may appeal more parti- cularly to those, who, being fathers themselves, know r how to value instructions, of which their tenderness and anxiety for their children, will undoubtedly make them feel the necessity. The instructions scattered throughout those Letters, are happily calculated, " To teach the young idea how to shoot to form and enlighten the infant mind, upon its ADVERTISEMENT. XI first opening, and prepare it to receive the early impressions of learning, and of morality. Of these, many entire letters, and some parts of others, are lost; which, considering the tender years of Mr. Stanhope, at that time, cannot be a matter of surprise, but will always be one of re- gret. Wherever a complete sense could be made out, I have ventured to give the fragment. To each of the French letters, throughout the work, an English translation is annexed : in which I have endeavoured to adhere, as much as possi- ble, to the sense of the original : I wish the at- tempt may have proved successful. As to those Repetitions, which sometimes occur, that many may esteem Inaccuracies, and think they had been better retrenched : they are so varied, and their significancy thrown into such, and so many different lights, that they could not be altered without mutilating the work. In the course of which, the Reader will also observe his Lordship often expressly declaring, that such repetitions are purposely intended, to inculcate his instructions more forcibly. So good a reason urged by the author for using them, made me think it indispensably requisite not to deviate from the original. The Letters written from the time that Mr. Stanhope was employed as one of his Majesty's Ministers abroad, although not relative to Edu- cation, yet as they continue the series of Lord xil ADVERTISEMENT. Chesterfield's Letters to his Son, and discover his sentiments on various interesting subjects, of public as well as private concern, it is presumed they cannot fail of being acceptable to the Public. To these are added some few detached pieces, which the Reader will find at the end of the fourth volume*. The Originals of those, as well as of all the Letters, are in my possession, in the late Earl of Chesterfield's handwriting, and sealed with his own seal. I beg leave to add, that if the following work proves of as much utility to the Youth of these Kingdoms, as the Letters were to the person for whose immediate instruction they were written, my utmost wishes will be gratified ; and I shall esteem myself happy in reflecting, that, though a Woman, I have had the most real of all satisfac- tions, — that of being of some use to my Country* * The Letters were originally printed in four volumes. LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS TO HIS SON. LETTER I*. On me dit, Monsieur! que vous vous disposez a voyager, et que vous debutez par la Hollande. De sorte que j'ai cm de mon devoir, de vous souhaiter un bon voyage, et des vents favorables. Vous aurez la bonte, j'espere, de me faire part de votre arrivee a la Haye; et si apres cela, dans le cours de vos voyages, vous faites quelques remarques curieuses, vous voudrez bien me les communiquer. La Hollande, ou vous allez, est de beaucoup la plus belle, et la plus riche des Sept Provinces-Unies, qui toutes ensemble, torment la Republique. Les autres sont celles de Gueldres, Zelancle, Frise, Utrecht, Groningue, et Over-Yssel. Les Sept Provinces com- posent, ce qu'on appelle les Etats Generaux des Provinces-Unies, et font une Republique tres-puis- sante, et tres-considerable. Une Republique, au reste, veut dire un gouverne- ment tout-a-fait libre, oii il n'y a point de Roi. La Haye, ou vous irez d'abord, est le plus beau village clu monde, car ce n'est pas une ville. La ville d" Amsterdam, censee la capitale des Provinces- * Cette Lettre est un pur badinage, Mr. Stanhope ayant fait un voyage en Hollande a l'age d'environ cinq ans. VOL. I. B 2 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Unies, est tres-belle, et tres-riche. II y a encore plusieurs villes fort considerables en Hollande, comme Dordrecht, Haerlem, Leycle, Delft, Rotter- dam, &c. Vous verrez par toute la Hollande, une extreme proprete: les rues memes y sont plus propres que nos maisons ne le sont ici. La Hol- lande fait un tres-grand commerce, surtout a la Chine, au Japon, et au reste des Indes Orientales. Voici bien des fetes de suite, que vous allez avoir, profitez-en, divertissez vous bien, et a votre retour, il faudra regagner le terns perdu, en apprenant mieux que jamais. Adieu. TRANSLATION*. I am told, Sir, you are preparing to travel, and that you begin by Holland; I therefore thought it my duty to wish you a prosperous journey, and favour- able winds. I hope you will be so good as to ac- quaint me with your arrival at the Hague ; and if, in the course of your travels, you should make any curious observations, be so kind to communicate them to me. Holland, where you are going, is, by far, the finest and richest of the Seven United Provinces, which, altogether, form the Republic. The other Provinces are, Guelderland, Zealand, Friesland, Utrecht, Gro- ningen, and Overyssel ; these Seven provinces form what is called the States General of the United Pro- vinces: jthis is a very powerful, and a very consi- derable Republic. I must tell you, that a Republic is a free State, without any King. You will go first to the Hague, which is the most beautiful vil- lage in the world ; for it is not a town. Amsterdam, * This Letter is a mere pleasantry, Mr. Stanhope having been carried to Holland when he was but about five years of age. LETTERS TO HIS SON. reckoned the capital of the United Provinces, is a very fine, rich city ; there are, besides, in Holland, several considerable towns, such as Dort, Haerlem, Leyden, Delft, and Rotterdam. You will observe, throughout Holland, the greatest cleanliness; the very streets are cleaner than our houses are here. Holland carries on a very great trade, particularly to China, Japan, and all over the East Indies. You are going to have a great many holidays all together ; make the best use of them, by diverting yourself well. At your return hither, you must re- gain the lost time, by learning better than ever. Adieu. LETTER II. MON CHER ENFANT, A Isleworth. Comme, avec le terns, vous lirez les anciens Poetes Grecs et Latins, il est bon d' avoir premierement quelque teinture des fondemens de la poesie, et de savoir en general les histoires auxquelles les Poetes font le plus souvent allusion. Vous avez deja lu PHistoire Poetique, et j'espere que vous vous en souvenez : vous y aurez trouve celle des Dieux, et des Deesses, dont les Poetes parlent a tous momens. Meme les Poetes modernes, c'est a dire, les Poetes d'aujourdhui, ont aussi adopte toutes ces histoires des Anciens. Par exemple ; un Poete Anglois ou Francois invoque, au commencement de son ouvrage, Apollon le Dieu des vers, il invoque aussi les neuf Muses, qui sont les Deesses de la Poesie, il les prie de lui etre propices ou favorables, et de lui inspirer leur genie. C'est pourquoi je vous envoie ici Phis- toire d' Apollon, et celle des neuf Muses, ou neuf Sceurs, comme on les nomme souvent. Apollon est aussi quelquefois appelle le Dieu du Parnasse, 4 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S parce que le Parnasse est une montagne, sur laquelle on suppose qu'il est frequemment. C'est un beau talent que cle bien fiire cles vers ; et j'espere que vous Paurez, car comme il est bien plus difficile d'exprimer ses pensees en vers qu'en prose, il y a d'autant plus cle gioire a le faire. Adieu. TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Islewortli. As you will, in time, read the ancient Greek and Latin Poets, it is proper that you should first have some notion of the foundation of poetry, and a ge- neral knowledge of those stories to which Poets most commonly allude. You have already read the Poetical History, and I hope you remember it. You will have found there the histories of Gods and Goddesses, whom the Poets are continually men- tioning. Even modern Poets (that is to say, those of the present times) have adopted all the histories of the ancient ones. For example; an English or a French Poet, at the beginning of his work, invokes Apollo, the God of Poetry ; he also invokes the nine Muses, who are the Goddesses of Poetry. He entreats them to be propitious, or favourable ; and to inspire him with their genius. For this reason, I here send you the history of Apollo, and that of the nine Muses, or nine Sisters, as they are frequently called. Apollo is also often named the God of Parnassus ; because he is supposed to be frequently upon a mountain, called Parnassus. The making verses well is an agreeable talent, which I hope you will be possessed of ; for, as it is more difficult to express one/s thoughts in verse than in prose, the being capable of doing it is more glorious. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. r> LETTER III. Apollon etoit fils cle Jupiter et cle Latone, qui accoucha de lui et de Diane, en meme terns, dans Pile de Delos. II est le Dieu du Jour, et alors il s'appelle ordinairement Phoebus. II est aussi le Dieu de la Poesie, et de la Musique ; comme tel il est represents avec une lyre a la main, qui est une espece de harpe. II avoit un fameux temple a Delphe, ou il rendoit des Oracles, c'est-a-dire, oii il predisoit Pavenir. Les Poetes Pinvoquent souvent pour les animer de son feu, afin de chanter digne- ment les louanges des Dieux et des Hommes. Les neuf Muses etoient filles de Jupiter, et de la Deesse Mnemosyne, c'est a dire la Deesse de la Me- moire; pour marquer que la memoire est necessaire aux arts, et aux sciences. Elles s'appellent Clio, Euterpe, Polymnie, Thalie, Melpomene, Terpsichore, Uranie, Calliope, Erato. Elles sont les Deesses de la Poesie, de PHistoire, de la Musique, et de tous les arts, et les sciences. Les Poetes ont represents les neuf Muses fort jeunes, et fort belles, ornees de guirlandes de fleurs. Les montagnes ou elles demeurent sont le Par- nasse, PHelicon, et le Pinde. Elles ont aussi deux celebres fontaines, qui s'appellent Hippocrene, et Castalie. Les Poetes, en les invoquant, les prient de quitter, pour un moment, le Parnasse, et PHippo- crene, pour venir a leur secours et leur inspirer des vers. Le Pegase est le cheval poetique, dont les Poetes font souvent mention : il a des ailes aux pieds. II donna un coup de pied contre le mont Helicon, et en fit sortir la fontaine d' Hippocrene. Quand un Poete est a faire des vers, on dit, qu'il est monte sur son Pegase. b 2 6 LOUD CHESTERFIELD'S TRANSLATION. Apollo was son of Jupiter and Latona, who was delivered of him and Diana in the island of Delos. He is God of the Sun, and thence generally is called Phcebus. He is also the God of Poetry and of Music, in which character he is represented with a lyre in his hand. That instrument is a kind of harp. There was a famous temple at Delphos, dedicated to Apollo ; where he pronounced oracles; that is to say, fore- told what is to happen. He is often invoked by Poets, to animate them with his fire, that they may be inspired to celebrate the praises, of Gods and of Men. The nine Muses were daughters of Jupiter, and of the Goddess Mnemosyne ; that is to say, the Goddess of Memory; to show that Memory is necessary to arts and sciences. They are called Clio, Euterpe, Thalia, Melpomene, Terpsichore, Erato, Polyhym- nia, Urania, Calliope. They are the Goddesses of Poetry, History, Music, and of all arts and sciences. The nine Muses are represented by Poets as very young, very handsome, and adorned with garlands of flowers. The mountains which they inhabit are called Parnassus, Helicon, and Pindus. There are also two celebrated fountains which belong to them, named Hippocrene, and Castalia. Poets, in their invocations, desire them to quit for a moment their Parnassus, and Hippocrene, that they may assist them with their inspiration to make verses. Pegasus, the poetic horse, often mentioned by Poets, has wings to his feet. He gave a kick against Mount Helicon, and the fountain of Hippocrene immediately sprang out. When a Poet is making verses, it is sometimes said, he is mounted upon his Pegasus *. * This expression is more a French than an English one. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 7 LETTER IV. A Isleworth, 19 Juin, 1738. Vous etes le meilleur garcon clu monde, et votre derniere traduction vaut encore mieux que la pre- miere. Voila justement ce qu'il faut, se perfection- ner de plus en plus tons les jours ; si vous continuez de la sorte, quoique je vous aime deja beaucoup, je vous en aimerai bien davantage, et memo si vous apprenez bien, et devenez savant, vous serez aime, et recherche de tout le monde: au lieu qu'on me- prise, et qu'on evite les ignorans. Pour n'etre pas ignorant moi-meme, je lis beaucoup, j'ai lu Y autre jour Phistoire de Didon, que je nfen vais vous conter. Didon etoit fille de Belus, Roi de Tyr, et fut mariee a Sichee qu'elle aimoit beaucoup ; mais comme ce Sichee avoit de grandes richesses, Pygmalion, frere de Didon, le fit tuer, et les lui vola. Didon, qui craignoit que son frere ne la tuat aussi, s'enfuit, et se sauva en Afrique, ou elle batit la belle ville de Carthage. Or il arriva, que, dans ce terns la, Enee se sauva aussi de la ville de Troye, qui avoit ete prise et brulee par les Grecs ; et comme il faisoit voile vers PItalie avec plusieurs autres Troyens, il fut jette, par la tern pete, sur les cotes d' Afrique, et aborda a Carthage. Didon le re^ut fort h on n cle- ment, et lui permit de rester jusques a ce qu^il eut radoube sa flotte ; mais malheureusement pour elle, elle en devint amoureuse; Enee, comme vous pouvez croire, ne fut pas cruel, de sorte que P affaire fut bientot faite. Quand les vaisseaux furent prets, Enee voulut partir pour PItalie, ou les Dieux Pen- voyoient pour etre le fondateur de Rome; mais Didon, qui ne vouloit point qu'il s'en all at, lui re- prochoit son ingratitude, et les faveurs qu'elle lui 8 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S avoit accordees. Mais n'importe, il se sauve de nuit, la quitte, et se met en mer. La pauvre Didon, au desespoir d'etre ainsi abandonnee par un horn me qu'elle aimoit tant, fit allumer un grand feu, s'y jetta, et mourut cle la sorte. Quand vous serez plus grand, vous lirez toute cette histoire en Latin, dans Virgile, qui en a fait un fort beau poeme, qui s'ap- pelle PEneide. Si vous abandonniez Miss Pinkerton pour Miss Williams, croyez vous qu'elle feroit la meme chose ? Adieu, mon cher. On a fait une jolie Epigramme au sujet de Didon, que je vous envoie, et que vous apprendrez faeile- ment par-cceur. Pauvre Didon ! ou t'a reduite De tes Maris le triste sort? L'un en mourant cause ta fuite, L'autre en fuyant cause ta mort. TRANSLATION. You are the best boy in the world, and your last translation is still better than the former. This is just as it ought to be, to improve every day more and more. Although I now love you dearly, if you continue to go on so, I shall love you still more ten- derly : if you improve and grow learned, every one will be fond of you, and desirous of your company ; whereas ignorant people are shunned and despised. In order that I may not be ignorant myself, I read a great deal. The other day I went through the his- tory of Dido, which I will now tell you. Dido was daughter of Belus, King of Tyre, and was married to Sicheus, whom she dearly loved. But as Sicheus had immense riches, Pygmalion, Dido's brother, had him put to death, and seized his treasures. Dido, fearful lest her brother might LETTERS TO HIS SON. 9 kill her too, fled to Africa, where she built the fine city of Carthage. Now it happened, that just about the same time, Eneas also fled from the city of Troy, which had been taken and burnt by the Greeks ; and as he was going, with many other Trojans, in his ships, to Italy, he was thrown, by a storm, upon the coast of A frica, and landed at Carthage. Diclo received him very kindly, and gave him leave to stay till he had refitted his fleet : but, unfortunately for her, she became in love w T ith him. Eneas (as you may easily believe) was not cruel ; so that matters were soon settled. When the ships were ready, Eneas wanted to set sail for Italy, to which the Gods had ordered him, that he might be the founder of Home; but Dido opposed his departure, and re- proached him with ingratitude, and the favours he had received. However he left her, ran off in the night, and put to sea. Poor Dido, in despair at being abandoned by the man she loved, had a great pile of wood set on fire, threw herself into the flames, and was burnt to death. When you are older, you will read all this story in Latin, written by Virgil ; who has made a fine poem of it, called the Eneid. If you should abandon Miss Pinkerton, for Miss Williams, do you think she would do the same? Adieu, my dear ! I send you a very pretty Epigram upon the subject of Dido ; you may easily learn it by heart. Infelix Dido ! nulli bene nupta marito, Hoc pereunte fugis, hoc fugiente peris. 10 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER V. Je vous ai dit, mon cher, que je vous enverrois quelques histoires pour vous amuser : je vous envoie done a present celle du Siege de Troye, qui est di- vertissante, et sur laquelle Homere, un ancien Poete Grec, a fait le plus beau Poeme Epique qui ait jamais ete. Par parenthese, un Poeme Epique est un long poeme sur quelque grand evenement, ou sur les actions de quelque grand homme. Le siege de Troye est si celebre pour avoir dure dix ans, et a cause du grand nombre de Heros qui y ont ete, qu'il ne faut nullement Pignorer. Quand vous serez plus grand, vous le lirez dans le Grec d'Homere. Adieu ! vous etes le meilleur enfant du monde. Je vous renvoie votre lettre corrigee, car quoiqu'il n'y eut que peu de fautes, il est pourtant bon que vous les sachiez. TRANSLATION. I told you, my dear, that I would send you some stories to amuse you ; I therefore now give you the History of the Siege of Troy, which is very enter- taining;. Homer, an ancient Greek Poet, has wrote upon this subject the finest Epic Poem that ever was. By the way, you are to know, that an Epic Poem is a long poem upon some great event, or upon the actions of some great man. The siege of Troy is so very famous, for having lasted ten years, and also upon account of the great number of Heroes who were there, that one must by no means be ignorant of such an event. When LETTERS TO HIS SON. 1 1 you are older, you will read it all in the Greek of Homer. Adieu ! you are the best child in the world. I return you your letter corrected ; for though it had but few faults, it is however proper that you should know them. LETTER VI. LA CAUSE DE LA GUERRE ENTRE LES GRECS ET LES TROYENS, ET DU SIEGE ET DE LA PRISE DE TROYE. La paix regnoit dans le ciel, et les Dieux et les Deesses jouissoient d'une parfaite tranquillite ; ce qui donnoit du chagrin a la Deesse Discord e, qui n'aime que le trouble, et les querelles. Elle resolut done de les brouiller, et pour parvenir a son but, elle jetta parmi les Deesses une Pomme cl'or, sur laquelle ces paroles etoient ecrites, d la plus belle. Voila d'abord chacune des Deesses qui se disoit la plus belle, et qui vouloit avoir la Pomme, car la beaute est une affaire bien sensible aux Deesses, aussi bien qu'aux Dames. La dispute fut prin- cipalement entre Junon femme de Jupiter, Venus la Deesse de P Amour, et Pallas Deesse des Arts et des Sciences. A-la-fln elles convinrent de s'en rapporter a un berger nomme Paris, qui paissoit des troupeaux sur le Mont Ida; mais qui etoit veritablement le flls de Priam Roi de Troye. Elles parurent done toutes trois nues devant Paris, car pour bien juger, il faut tout voir. Junon lui offrit les grandeurs du monde, s'il vouloit decider en sa faveur ; Pallas lui offrit les arts et les sciences ; mais Venus, qui lui promit la plus belle femme du monde, Pemporta, et il lui donna la Pomme. Vous pouvez bien croire a quel point Venus etoit contente, et combien Junon et Pallas etoient 12 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S courroucees. Venus, done, pour lui tenir parole, lui clit d'aller en Grece ehez Menelas, dont la femme qui s'appelloit Helene deviendroit amoureuse de lui. II y alia, et Menelas le recut chez lui fort honnetement; mais peu de terns apres, Helene s'enfuit avec Paris, qui la mena a Troye. Menelas, irrite de cet outrage, s'en plaignit a son frere Aga- memnon Roi de Mycenes, qui engagea les Grecs a venger cet affront. On envoy a done des Ambassa- deurs a Troye, pour demander qu'on rendit Helene a son mari, et en cas de refus, pour declarer la guerre. Paris refusa de la rendre, sur quoi la guerre fut declaree, qui dura dix ans, et dont je vous enverrai bientot Phistoire. TRANSLATION. CAUSE OF THE WAR BETWEEN THE GREEKS AND TROJANS, AND OF THE BESIEGING AND TAKING OF TROY. Heaven and Earth were at peace, and the Gods and Goddesses enjoyed the most perfect tranquil- lity" when the Goddess Discord, who delights in confusion and quarrels, displeased at this universal calm, resolved to excite dissension. In order to effect this, she threw among the Goddesses a golden Apple, upon which these words were written, " To the fairest." Immediately each of the Goddesses wanted to have the Apple, and each said she was the hand- somest; for Goddesses are as anxious about their beauty, as mere mortal ladies. The strife, was, however, more particularly between Juno, the wife of Jupiter ; Venus, the Goddess of Love ; and Pallas, the Goddess of Arts and Sciences. At length they agreed to be judged by a shepherd named Paris, who fed his flocks upon Mount Ida, and was, how- ever, son to Priam, King of Troy. They appeared all three before Paris, and quite naked ; for, in order LETTERS TO HIS SON. 13 to judge critically, and to determine equitably, it is requisite that all should be seen. Juno offered him the grandeur of the world, if he would decide in her favour ; Pallas promised him arts and sciences ; but Venus, who tempted him with the most beautiful woman in the universe, prevailed, and he gave her the Apple. You may easily imagine how glad Venus was, and how angry Juno and Pallas were. Venus, in order to perform her promise, ordered him to go to Menelaiis's, in Greece, whose wife, named Helena, would fall in love with him : accordingly he went, and was kindly entertained by JVIenelaiis ; but, soon after, Paris ran away with Helena, and carried her off to Troy. Menelaiis, irritated at this injurious breach of hospitality, complained to his brother Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, who engaged the Greeks to avenge the affront. Ambassadors were sent to Troy, to demand the restitution of Helena, and, in case of a denial, to declare war. Paris refused to restore her; upon which war was pro- claimed. It lasted ten years. I shall very soon send you the history of it. LETTER VII. ' A Isleworth, ce 30 Juin, 1738. Je vous envoie a cette heure, mon Cher ! une histoire fort en abrege, du siege de Troye, ou vous verrez que les Troyens etoient justement punis de l'injus- tice de Paris, qu'ils soutenoient. Je vous enverrai, bientot aussi, les histoires de plusieurs des Rois et des Heros, qui etoient dans 1'armee des Grecs, et qui meritent d'etre sues. VOL. I. C 14 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S J'aurois du vous avoir dit que la ville de Troyc etoit en Asie, et que la Grece etoit un pays de l'Europe, qui est a present sous le Turc, et fait partie de ce qu'on appelle Turquie en Europe. De la maniere que vous y allez, vous serez bien savant avec le terns, et je crains meme que bientot vous n'en sachiez plus que moi. Je vous le par- ol onnerai pourtant, et je serai fort content de passer pour un ignorant en comparaison de vous. Adieu. HISTOIRE DU SIEGE DE TROYE. Les Troy ens ayant done refuse de rendre Helene a son Mari ; les Grecs leur declarerent la guerre. Or il y avoit en Grece un grand nombre de Rois, qui fournirent leurs troupes, et qui allerent en personne a cette guerre; mais comme il falloit que quelqu'un command at en Chef, ils convinrent tous, de donner le commandement a Agamemnon, Roi de Mycenes, et frere de Menelas le mari d'Helene. Ils s' embarquerent done pour Troye, mais les vents etant contraires, ils furent arretes a Aulis, et n'en pouvoient pas sortir. Sur quoi le Pretre Calchas declara que c' etoit la Deesse Diane qui envoyoit ces vents contraires et qui les continueroit jusqu' a ce qu' Iphigenie la fille d y Agamemnon lui eut ete immolee. Agamemnon obeit, et envoya chercher Iphigenie, mais clans P instant qu'on alloit la sacrificer, Diane mit une Biche a sa place, et enleva Iphigenie a Tauros, ou elle la fit sa Pretresse. Apres ceci le vent devint favorable, et ils allerent a Troye, ou ils debarquerent, et en firent le siege. Mais les Troyens se defenclirent si bien, que le siege dura dix ans, et les Grecs voyant qu'ils ne pouvoient pas prendre la ville par force, eurent recours a la ruse. Ils firent, done, faire un grand Cheval de bois, et mirent dans le ventre de ce Cheval bon LETTERS TO HIS SON. 15 nombre de soldats bien armes, et apres cela firent semblant de se retirer a leurs vaisseaux, et d'aban- donner le siege. Les Troyens donnerent dans le panneau, et firent entrer ce Cheval dans la ville ; ce qui leur couta cher, car au milieu de la nuit ces hommes sortirent du Cheval, mirent le feu a la ville, en ouvrirent les portes, et firent entrer Parmee des Grecs, qui revinrent, saccagerent la ville, et tuerent tons les habitans, excepte un fort petit nombre qui echapperent par la fuite, parmi lesquels etoit Enee dont je vous ai deja parle, qui se sauva avec son pere Anchise, qu'il portoit sur ses epaules parce qu'il etoit vieux, et son fils Ascagne qu'il menoit par la main, parce qu'il etoit jeune. HISTOIRE D'AJAX. A j ax, un des plus vaillans Grecs qui furent au siege de Troye, etoit fils de Telamon, Prince de Salamine. Apres qu'Achille fut tue, il pretendit que ses armes lui appartenoient comme son plus proche parent. Mais Ulysse les lui disputa, et les emporta; sur quoi Ajax devint fou, et tuoit tous les moutons qu'il trouvoit, croyant que c'etoient des Grecs. A la fin il se tua lui m erne. HISTOIRE DE NESTOR. Nestor etoit le plus vieux et le plus sage de tous les Grecs qui se trouvoient au siege de Troye. II avoit plus de trois cents ans, de sorte que tant a cause de son experience, que de sa sagesse, Parmee Grecque etoit gouvemee par ses Conseils. On dit meme aujourdhui d'un homme qui est fort vieux et fort sage, c'est un Nestor. 16 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S l'histoire d'ulysse. Ulysse, autre Prince qui alia au siege de Troye, etoit Roi d'lthaque, et fils de Laerte. Sa femme se nommoit Penelope, dont il etoit si amoureux, qu'il ne vouloit pas la quitter, pour aller au siege de Troye ; de sorte qu'il contrefit Pinsense pour en etre dispense, mais il fut clecouvert et oblige d'y aller. C etoit le plus fin et le plus adroit de tous les Grecs. Pendant les dix annees qu'il fut au siege de Troye, sa femme Penelope eut plusieurs amans, mais elle n'en ecouta aucun, si bien qu'a present meme, quand on veut louer une femme pour sa chastete on dit (test une Penelope. II fut plusieurs annees, apres que Troye fut brulee, avant que d'arriver chez lui, a cause des tempetes, et autres accidens qui lui survinrent dans son voyage. Les voyages d' Ulysse sont le sujet d'un beau poeme, qu' Horn ere a fait en Grec, et qui s'appelle P Odyssee. Ulysse avoit un fils nomme Telemaque. Du cote des Troyens il y avoit aussi des per- sonnages tres-illust res : Leur Roi Priam qui etoit fort vieux avoit eu cinquante enfans de sa femme Hecube. Quand Troye fut prise, il fut tue par Pyrrhus le fils d'Achille. Hecube fut la captive d' Ulysse. histoire d' hector. Hector etoit fils de Priam, et le plus brave des Troyens ; sa femme se nommoit Andromaque, et il avoit un fils qui s'appelloit Astyanax. II voulut se battre contre Achille qui le tua ; et puis, fort brutale- ment, l'attacha a son Char, et le traina en triomphe autour des murailles de Troye. Quand la ville fut prise, sa femme Andromaque fut captive de Pyrrhus fils d' Achille, qui en devint amoureux, et Pepousa. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 17 HISTOIRE DE CASSANDRE. Cass andre, fille de Priam, etoit si belle, que le Dieu Apollon en devint amoureux, et lui accorda le don de predire Pavenir, pour en avoir les dernieres faveurs ; mais comme elle trompa le Dieu et ne se rendit point, il fit en sorte que quoiqu'elle predit toujours la verite, personne ne la croyoit. On dit meme a present d'une personne qui predit les suites cVune affaire, sur lesquelles on ne Ten croit pas: c'est line Cassandre. HISTOIRE D'ENEE. Enee etoit Prince Troyen, fils d'Anchise, et de la Deesse Venus, qui le protegea dans tous ses dangers. Sa femme s'appella Creuse, et il en eut un fils nomme Ascagne ou lulus. Quand Troye fut brulee, il se sauva, et porta son pere Anchise sur ses epaules, a cause de quoi il fut appelle le pieux Enee. Vous savez deja ce qui lui arriva a Carthage avec Didon ; apres quoi il alia en Italie, ou il epousa Lavinie fille du Roi Latinus, apres avoir tue Turnus qui etoit son rival. Romulus, qui etoit le fondateur de Rome, descen- doit d* Enee et de Lavinie. TRANSLATION. I now send you, my dear, a very short history of the siege of Troy. You will there see how justly the Trojans were punished for supporting Paris in his injustice. I will send you soon the histories of several Kings and Heroes, who were in the Grecian army, and deserve to be known. I ought to have informed c 2 18 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S you, that the city of Troy was in Asia; and that Greece is a country in Europe; which, at present, belongs to the Turks, and is part of what is called Turkey in Europe. Considering the manner in which you now go on, you will in time be very learned ; I am even afraid lest you should soon know more than myself. However, I shall forgive you, and will be very happy to be esteemed ignorant, in comparison of you. Adieu. THE HISTORY OF THE SIEGE OF TROY. The Trojans having refused to restore Helen to her husband, the Greeks declared war against them. Now there was in Greece a great number of Kings, who furnished troops, and commanded them in person. They all agreed to give the supreme com- mand to Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, and brother to Menelaiis, husband to Helen. They embarked for Troy ; but meeting with con- trary winds, were detained by them at Aulis. Upon which Calchas, the High Priest, declared, that those adverse winds were sent by the Goddess Diana; who would continue them, till Iphigenia, daughter to Agamemnon, was sacrificed to her. Agamemnon obeyed, and sent for Iphigenia; but just as she was going to be sacrificed, Diana put a Hind in her stead, and carried off Iphigenia to Tauros, where she made her one of her Priestesses. After this, the winds became favourable, and they pursued their voyage to Troy, where they landed and began the siege : but the Trojans defended their city so well, that the siege lasted ten years. The Greeks, finding they could not take it by force, had recourse to stratagem. They made a great wooden Horse, and enclosed in its body a number of armed men; after which they pretended to retire to their ships, and abandon the siege. The Trojans fell into this snare, and brought the Horse into their LETTERS TO HIS SON. 19 Town ; which cost them dear, for, in the middle of the night, the men, concealed in it, got out, set fire to the city, opened the gates, and let in the Grecian army, that had returned under the walls of Troy. The Greeks sacked the city, and put all the inhabi- tants to the sword, except a very few, who saved themselves by flight. Among these was Eneas, whom I mentioned to you before; and who fled with his father Anchises upon his shoulders, because he was old ; and led his son Ascanius by the hand, because he was young. STORY OF AJAX. Ajax was one of the most valiant Greeks that went to the siege of Troy ; he was son to Telamon, Prince of Salamis. After Achilles had been killed, he demanded that Hero's armour, as his nearest rela- tion ; but Ulysses contested that point, and obtained the armour. Upon which Ajax went mad, and slaughtered all the sheep he met with, under a notion that they were so many Greeks : at last he killed himself. STORY OF NESTOR. Nestor was the oldest and wisest of all the Greeks who were at the siege of Troy. He was above three hundred years old : so that, on account of his expe- rience, as well as his wisdom, the Grecian army was directed by his counsels. Even at this present time, it is said of a man, who is very old and very wise, he is a Nestor. STORY OF ULYSSES. Ulysses was another Prince who went to the siege of Troy ; he was King of Ithaca, and son of Laertes. His wife's name was Penelope, with whom he was so much in love, that, unwilling to leave her, he feigned himself mad, in order to be excused going 20 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S to the siege of Troy ; but this device being dis- covered, he was compelled to embark for Ilion. He was the most artful and subtile of all the Greeks. During those ten years of his absence at Troy, Pene- lope had several lovers, but she gave encouragement to none ; so that even now, when a woman is com- mended for chastity, she is called a Penelope. After the destruction of Troy, Ulysses was several years before he reached his kingdom, being tossed about by tempests and various accidents. The voyages of Ulysses have been the subject of a very fine poem, written by Homer, in Greek, and called The Odyssey. Ulysses had one son, whose name was Telemachus. There were also many illustrious persons on the Trojan side. Priam was their King. He was very old, and had fifty children by his wife Hecuba. After the taking of Troy, he was killed by Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles, and Hecuba made captive to Ulysses. STORY OF HECTOR. Hector was son to Priam, and the bravest of the Trojans ; Andromache was his wife, and his son's name Astyanax. He resolved to engage Achilles ; who killed him, and then brutally fastened his dead body to his car, and dragged it in triumph round the walls of Troy. After that city was taken, his wife, Andromache, became captive to Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles. He afterwards fell in love with, and married her. STORY OF CASSANDRA. Cassandra, daughter of Priam, was so beautiful, that the God Apollo fell in love with her ; and gave her the power of foretelling future events, upon con- dition of her compliance with his desires. But as she deceived the God, by not gratifying his wishes, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 21 lie ordered matters in such a manner, that, although she always foretold truth, nobody believed her. It is even now said of a person who foretells the con- sequences of an affair, and is not believed, She is a Cassandra. STORY OF ENEAS. Eneas was a Trojan Prince, son of Anchises, and of the Goddess Venus, who protected him in all the dangers he underwent. His wife's name was Creusa, by whom he had a son called Ascanius, or lulus. When Troy was burnt, he made his escape, and carried his father Anchises upon his back ; for which reason he was surnamed The Pious Eneas. You already know what happened to him, with Dido, at Carthage. After that he went to Italy, where, having killed his rival, Turnus, he married Lavinia, daughter to King Latinus. From Eneas and Lavinia was descended Romu- lus, the founder of Rome. LETTER VIII. MON CHER ENFANT, A Isleworth, ce 29me Juillet. Je vous ai envoye, dans ma derniere, Phistoire d'Atalante*, qui succomba a la tentation de POr; je vous envoie a cette heure, Phistoire cPune femme, qui tint bon contre toutes les tentations; c'est Daphne fille du fleuve Pence. Apollon en fut eperdument amoureux; et Apollon etoit comme vous savez un Dieu fort accompli ; car il etoit jeune et bien fait, d'ailleurs c' etoit le Dieu du Jour, de la Musique, et cle la Poesie. Voici bien du briilant ; mais n' importe, il la poursuivit inutilement, et elle ne voulut jamais Pecouter. ■* Qui ne se trouve pas. 22 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Un jour done Payant rencontree dans les champs, il la poursuivitj dans le dessein de la forcer. Daphne courut de son mieux pour l'eviter ; mais a la fin, n'en pouvant plus, Apollon etoit sur le point dela prendre dans ses bras ; quand les Dieux qui approuvoient sa vertu, et plaignoient son sort, la changerent en Laurier ; de sorte qu' Apollon, qui croyoit embrasser sa chere Daphne, fut bien surpris de trouver un arbre entre ses bras. Mais pour lui marquer son amour, il ordonna que le Laurier seroit le plus honorable de tous les arbres, et qu'on en couronneroit les Guerriers victorieux, et les plus celebres Poetes : ce qui s'est toujours fait clepuis chez les anciens. Et vous trouverez meme souvent dans les Poetes mod ernes, Laurier s pour Victoires. Un tel est charge de Laurier s, un tel a cueilli des Lauriers, dans le champ de battaille. C'est a dire, il a remporte des victoires ; il s'est distingue par sa bravoure. J'espere qu'avec le terns vous vous distinguerez aussi par votre courage. C'est une qualite tres-necessaire a un honnete homme, et qui d' ailleurs donne beaucoup d' eclat. Adieu. TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, I sent you, in my last, the story of Atalanta*, who could not resist the temptation of Gold. I will now give you the story of a woman, with whom no temp- tation whatever had any power; this was Daphne, daughter to the river Peneus. Apollo was violently in love with her ; and Apollo was, as you know, a very accomplished God ; for he was young and handsome ; besides which, he was God of the Sun, of Music, and of Poetry. These are brilliant quali- ties ; but, notwithstanding, the nymph was coy, and the lover unsuccessful. * Which cannot be found. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 23 One clay, having met with her in the fields, he pursued, in order to have forced her. Daphne, to avoid him, ran as long as she was able ; but at last, being quite spent, Apollo was just going to catch her in his arms, when the Gods, who pitied her fate, and approved her virtue, changed her into a Laurel ; so that Apollo, instead of his dear Daphne, was sur- prised to find a tree in his arms. But, as a testimony of his love, he decreed the Laurel to be the most honourable of all trees ; and ordained victorious Warriors, and celebrated Poets to be crowned with it : an injunction which was ever afterwards observed by the ancients. You will even often find, among the modern Poets, Laurels for victories. Such-a-one is loaded with Laurels; such-a-one has gathered Laurels in the field of battle. This means, he has been victorious, and has distinguished himself by his bravery. I hope that, in time, you too will be famous for your courage. Valour is essential to a gentleman ; besides that it adds brilliancy to his character. Adieu. LETTER IX. MON CHER ENFANT, A Bath, ce 30me Sept. 1738. Je suisbien-aise d'apprendre que vous etes revenu gai et gaillard de vos voyages. La danse de trois jours que vous avez faite ne vous aura pas tant phi, que celle que vous allez recommencer avec votre maitre a danser. Comme je sais que vous aimez a apprendre; je presuppose que vous avez repris votre ecole ; car le terns etant precieux, et la vie courte, il n'en faut pas perdre. Un homme d'esprit tire parti du terns, et le met tout a profit, ou a plaisir; il n'est jamais sans faire quelque chose, et il est tou jours occupe 24 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S ou au plaisir, ou a V etude. L'oisivete, di-ton, est la mere de tous les vices ; mais au moins est-il sur qu'elle est V appanage des sots, et qu'il n'y a rien de plus meprisable qu'un faineant. Caton le Censeur, un vieux Romain, d'une grande vertu, et d'une grande sagesse, disoit qu'il n'y avoit que trois choses dans sa vie dont il se repentoit ; la premiere etoit, d'avoir dit un secret a sa femme ; la seconde, d'etre alle une fois par mer, la ou il pouvoit aller par terre; et la derniere, d'avoir passe un jour sans rien faire. De la maniere que vous employ ez votre terns, j'avoue que je suis en vieux du plaisir que vous aurez, de vous voir bien plus savant, que les autres garcons plus ages que vous. Quel honneur cela vous fera ; quelle distinction ; quels applaudissemens vous trouverez par tout ! Avouez que cela sera bien flatteur. Aussi c'est une ambition tres-louable, que de les vouloir surpasser en merite et en savoir. Au lieu que de vouloir surpasser les autres seulement en rang, en depense, en habits, et en equipage, n'est qu'une sotte vanite, qui rend un homme fort ridicule. Reprenons un peu notre Geographie, pour vous amuser avec les cartes, car a cette beure, que les jours sont courts, vous ne pourrez pas aller a la pro- menade les apres-diners, il faut pourtant se divertir ; rien ne vous divertira plus que de regarder les cartes. Adieu ! vous etes un excellent petit garcon. Faites mes complimens a votre Maman. TRANSLATION. MY "DEAR CHILD, Bath, September the 30th, 1738. I am very glad to hear, that you are returned from your travels well, and in good humour. The three days dance which you have borne, has not, I believe, been quite so agreeable as that which you are now going to renew with your dancing master. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 25 As I know yon have a pleasure in learning, I take it for granted that you have resumed your studies ; for time is precious, life short, and consequently one must not lose a single moment. A man of sense knows how to make the most of time, and puts out his whole sum, either to interest or to pleasure ; he is never idle ; but constantly employed either in amusements or in study. It is a saying, that idle- ness is the mother of all vice. At least, it is certain, that laziness is the inheritance of fools ; and nothing so despicable as a sluggard. Cato the Censor, an old Roman of great virtue and much wisdom, used to say, there were but three actions of his life which he regretted. The first was, the having told a secret to his wife ; the second, that he had once gone by sea when he might have gone by land ; and the third, the having passed one day without doing any thing. Considering the manner in which you employ your time, I own that I am envious of the pleasure you will have in finding yourself more learned than other boys, even those who are older than yourself. What honour this will do you ! What distinctions, what applauses will follow, wherever you go ! You must confess that this cannot but give you pleasure. The being desirous of surpassing them in merit and learn- ing is a very laudable ambition ; whereas the wishing to outshine others in rank, in expense, in clothes, and in equipage, is a silly vanity, that makes a man appear ridiculous. Let us return to our Geography, in order to amuse ourselves with maps. Now the days are short, you cannot walk out in the evening ; yet one must amuse one's self ; and there 1 is nothing so entertaining as maps. Adieu ! you are an excellent little boy. Make my compliments to your Mamma. VOL. I. D 26 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER X. MON CHER ENFANT, A Bath, ce 4me d'Oct. 1738. Vous voyez bien, qu'en vous ecrivant si sou vent, et de la maniere dont jele fais, je ne vous traite pas en petit enfant, mais en gar con qui a de V ambition, et qui aime a apprendre, et a s'instruire. De sorte que je suis persuade qu'en lisant mes lettres, vous faites attention, non seulement a la matiere qu'elles traitent, mais aussi a Porthographe, et au style. Car il est tres-important de savoir bien ecrire des lettres ; on en a besoin tous les jours dans le commerce de la vie, soit pour les affaires, soit pour les plaisirs, et Von ne pardonne qu'aux Dames des fautes d'orthographe et de style. Quand vous serez plus grand, vous lirez les Epitres, (c'est a dire les lettres) de Ciceron, qui sont le modele le plus parfait de la maniere de bien ecrire. A propos de Ciceron, il faut vous dire un peu, qui il etoit ; c etoit un vieux Romain, qui vivoit il y a dix-huit cents ans : homme d'un grand genie, et le plus celebre Orateur qui ait jamais ete. Ne faut-il pas, par parenthese, vous expliquer ce que c'est qu'un Orateur? Je crois bien qu'oui. Un Orateur clone, c'est un homme qui harangue dans une assemblee publique, et qui parle avec eloquence, c'est a dire, qui raisonne bien, qui a un beau style, et qui choisit bien ses paroles. Or jamais homme n'a mieux fait toutes ces choses que Ciceron; il paiioit quelquefois a tout le peuple Romain, et par son eloquence il leur persuadoit tout ce qu'il vouloit. Quelquefois aussi il entreprenoit les proces de ses amis, il plaidoit pour eux devant des Juges, et il manquoit rarement d'emporter leurs suffrages, c'est a dire, leurs voix, leurs decisions, en sa faveur. II avoit rendu de grands services a la Republique Ro- main e, pendant qu'elle jouissoit de sa liberte ; mais LETTERS TO HIS SON. 27 quand elle fut assujettie par Jules Cesar, le premier Empereur Romain, il devint suspect aux Tyrans, et fut a la fin egorge par les ordres de Marc Antoine, qui le hai'ssoit, parce qu'il avoit harangue si forte- ment contre lui, quand il vouloit se rendre maitre de Rome. Souvenez vous to uj ours, s'il y a quelques mots dans mes lettres, que vous n'entendez pas parfaite- ment, d'en clemander P explication a votre Maman, ou de les chercber dans le Dictionnaire. Adieu. TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Bath, October the 4th, 1738. By my writing so often, and by tbe manner in which I write, you will easily see, that I do not treat you as a little child, but as a boy who loves to learn, and is ambitious of receiving instruction. I am even persuaded, that in reading my letters, you are attentive, not only to the subject of which they treat, but likewise to the orthography, and to the style. It is of the greatest importance to write letters well ; as this is a talent which unavoidably occurs every day of one's life, as well in business as in pleasure ; and inaccuracies in orthography, or in style, are never pardoned but in ladies. When you are older, you will read the Epistles (that is to say letters) of Cicero ; which are the most perfect models of good writing. A propos of Cicero ; I must give you some account of him. He was an old Roman, who lived eighteen hundred years ago ; a man of great genius, and the most celebrated Orator that ever was. Will it not be necessary to explain to you what an Orator is? I believe I must. An Orator is a man who harangues in a public assembly, and who speaks with eloquence; that is to say, who reasons well, has a fine style, and chooses his words properly. 28 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Now, never man succeeded better than Cicero, in all those different points : he used sometimes to speak to the whole people of Rome assembled ; and by the force of his eloquence, persuade them to whatever he pleased. At other times, he used to undertake causes, and plead for his clients in courts of judi- cature : and in those causes he generally had all the suffrages, that is to say, all the opinions, all the de- cisions, in his favour. While the Roman Republic enjoyed its freedom, he did very signal services to his country ; but after it was enslaved by Julius Caesar, the first Emperor of the Romans, Cicero be- came suspected by the tyrants ; and was at last put to death by order of Marc Antony, who hated him for the severity of his orations against him, at the time that he endeavoured to obtain the sovereignty of Rome. In case there should be any words in my letters which you do not perfectly understand, remember always to inquire the explanation from your Mamma, or else to seek for them in the Dictionary. Adieu. LETTER XL MON CHER ENFANT, A Bath, ce lime d'Oct. 1738. Vous ayant parle dans ma derniere de Ciceron le plus grand Orateur que Rome ait jamais produit, (quoiqu'elle en ait produit plusieurs) je vous presente aujourd'hui Demosthenes le plus celebre des Ora- teurs Grecs. J'aurois du a la verite avoir commence par Demosthenes, comme Paine, car il vivoit a peu pres trois cents ans avant Ciceron ; et Ciceron me me a beaucoup profite de la lecture de ses Harangues ; comme j'espere qu' avec le terns vous profiterez de tous les deux. Revenons a Demosthenes. II etoit LETTERS TO HIS SON. 29 de la celebre ville d'Athenes dans la Grece, et il avoit tant d' eloquence, que pendant un certain terns il gouvernoit absolument la ville, et persuadoit aux Atheniens ce qu'il vouloit. II n'avoit pas naturelle- ment le don de la parole, car il begayoit, mais il s'en corrigea en mettant, quancl il parloit, de petits cail- loux dans sa bouche. II se distingua particuliere- ment par les Harangues qu'il fit contre Philippe, Roi de Macedoine, qui vouloit se rendre maitre de la Grece. C'est pourquoi ces Harangues-la sont intitulees, Les Phi lippiq ices. Vous voyez de quel usage c'est que de savoir bien parler, de s'exprimer bien, et de s'enoncer avec grace. II n'y a point de talent, par lequel on se rend plus agreable ou plus considerable, que par celui de bien parler. A propos de la ville d'Athenes; je crois que vous ne la connoissez gueres encore ; et pourtant il est bien-necessaire de faire connoissance avec elle, car si elle n'a pas ete la mere, du moins elle a ete la nourrice des Arts et des Sciences, c'est a dire, que si elle ne les a point inventes, du moins elle les a portes a la perfection. II est vrai que PEgypte a ete la premiere ou les Arts et les Sciences ont com- mences, mais il est vrai aussi que c'est Athenes qui les a perfectionnes. Les plus grands Philosophes, c'est a dire, les gens qui aimoient, et qui etudioient la sagesse, etoient d'Athenes, comme aussi les meil- leurs Poetes, et les meilleurs Orateurs. Les Arts y ont ete portes aussi a la clerniere perfection ; comme la Sculpture, c'est a dire, l'art de tailler des figures en pierre et en marbre ; l'Architecture, c'est a dire, l'art de bien batir cles maisons, des temples, des the- atres. La Peinture, la Musique, en fin tout fleurissoit a Athenes. Les Atheniens avoient Pesprit delicat, et le gout juste ; ils etoient polis et agreables, et l'on appelloit cet esprit vif, juste, et enjoue, qu'ils avoient, le Sel Attique, parce que, comme vous savez, le sel a, en meme terns, quelque chose de piquant et d 2 30 LORD chesterfield's cPagreable. On clit meme aujouixP hui, d'un homme qui a cette sorte d'esprit, qu'il a du Sel Attique, c'est a dire Athenien. J'espere que vous serez bien sale de ce Sel-la, mais pour Petre il faut apprendre bien des choses, les concevoir, et les dire promptement ; car les meilleures choses perdent leur grace si elles paroissent trop travaillees. Adieu, mon petit ami; en voila assez pour aujouixPhui. TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Bath, October the 11th, 1738. Having mentioned Cicero to you in my last ; Cicero, the greatest Orator that Rome ever produced ; al- though it produced several ; I this day introduce to your acquaintance Demosthenes, the most celebrated of the Grecian Orators. To say the truth, I ought to have begun with Demosthenes, as the elder ; for he lived about three hundred years before the other. Cicero, even improved by reading his Orations, as I hope you will in time profit by reading those of both. Let us return to Demosthenes. He was born at Athens, a celebrated city in Greece; and so com- manding was his eloquence, that for a considerable time, he absolutely governed the city, and persuaded the people to whatever he pleased. His elocution was not naturally good, for he stammered ; but got the better of that impediment by speaking with small pebbles in his mouth. He distinguished himself more particularly by his Orations against Philip King of Macedonia, who had designed the conquest of Greece. Those Orations, being against Philip, were from thence called Philippics. You see how useful it is to be able to speak well, to express one's self clearly, and to pronounce gracefully. The talent of speaking well is more essentially necessary than any other, to make us both agreeable, and consider- able. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 31 A propos of the city of Athens ; I believe you at present know but little of it ; and yet it would be requisite to be well informed upon that subject ; for, if Athens was not the mother, at least she was nurse to all the Arts and Sciences ; that is to say, though she did not invent, yet she improved them to the highest degree of perfection. It is true, that Arts and Sciences first began in Egypt ; but it is as cer- tain, that they were brought to perfection at Athens. The greatest Philosophers (that is to say, men who loved and studied wisdom) were Athenians, as also the best Poets, and the best Orators. Arts likewise were there brought to the utmost perfection ; such as Sculpture, which means the art of cutting figures in stone and in marble ; Architecture, or the art of building houses, temples, and theatres, well. Paint- ing, Music, in short, every art flourished at Athens. The Athenians had great delicacy of wit, and justness of taste ; they were polite and agreeable. That sort of lively, just, and pleasing wit, which they possessed, was called Attic Salt, because salt has, as you know, something sharp and yet agreeable. Even now, it is said of a man, who has that turn of wit, he has Attic Salt; which means Athenian. I hope you will have a good deal of that Salt; but this requires the learning many things ; the comprehending and expressing them without hesitation : for the best things lose much of their merit, if they appear too studied. Adieu, my dear boy ; here is enough for this day. LETTER XII. Je suis bien-aise que vous etudiez l'Histoire Ho- rn aine, car de toutes les anciennes histoires, il n'y en a pas de si instructive, ni qui fournisse tant d'exem- ples de vertu, de sagesse, et de courage. Les autres 32 LOUD CHESTERFIELD'S grands Empires, savoir, celui cles Assyriens, celiii cles Perses, et celui cles Macedoniens, se sont eleves presque tout d'un coup, par des accidens favorables, et par le succes rapide de leurs armes ; mais l'Empire Romain s'est aggrandi par degres, et a surmonte les difficultes qui s'opposoient a son aggrandissement, autant par sa vertu, et par sa sagesse, que par ses armes. Rome, qui fut dans la suite la maitresse du monde, n'etoit d'abord, comme vous le savez, qu'une petite ville fondee par Romulus, son premier Roi, a la tete d'un petit n ombre de bergers et d'aventuriers, qui se rangerent sous lui, et dans le premier denombrement que Romulus fit du peuple, c'est a dire, la premiere Ibis qu'il fit compter le nombre des habitants, ils ne montoient qu'a trois miile hommes de pied, et trois cents clievaux, au lieu qu'a la fin de son regne, qui dura trente sept ans, il y avoit quarante six mille hommes de pied, et mille chevaux. Pendant les deux cents cinquante premieres annees de Rome, c'est a dire, tout le terns qu'elle fut gouvernee par des Rois, ses voisins lui firent la guerre, et tacherent d'etouffer dans sa naissance, un peuple, dont ils craignoient V aggrandissement, con- sequence naturelle de sa vertu, de son courage, et de sa sagesse. Rome done employa ses deux cents cinquante premieres annees a lutter contre ses plus proches voisins, qu'elle surmonta ; et deux cents cinquante autres, a se rendre maitresse de V Italie ; de sorte qu'il y avoit cinq cents ans, depuis la foundation de Rome, jusqu' a ce qu'elle devint maitresse de l'ltalie. Ce fut seulement dans les deux cents annees suivantes qu'elle se rendit la maitresse du monde, c'est a dire sept cents ans apres sa fonda- tion. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 33 TRANSLATION. I am glad to hear you study the Roman history; for, of all ancient histories, it is the most instructive, and furnishes most examples of virtue, wisdom, and courage. The other great Empires, as the Assyrian, Persian, and Macedonian, sprung up almost of a sudden, by favourable accidents, and the rapidity of their conquests ; but the Roman Empire extended itself gradually, and surmounted the obstacles that opposed its aggrandizement, not less by virtue and wisdom, than by force of arms. Rome, which at length became the mistress of the world, was (as you know) in the beginning but a small city, founded by Romulus, her first King, at the head of an inconsiderable number of herdsmen and vagabonds, who had made him their Chief. At the first survey Romulus made of his people ; that is, the first time he took an account of the inhabi- tants, they amounted only to three thousand foot and three hundred horse ; whereas, towards the end of his reign, which lasted thirty seven years, he reckoned forty-six thousand foot, and one thousand horse. During the first two hundred and fifty years of Rome, as long as it was governed by Kings, the Romans were engaged in frequent wars with their neighbours ; who endeavoured to crush in its in- fancy a state whose future greatness they dreaded, as the natural consequence of its virtue, courage, and wisdom. Thus Rome employed its first two hundred and fifty years in struggling with the neighbouring States, who were in that period entirely subdued ; and two hundred and fifty more in conquering the rest of Italy : so that we reckon five hundred years 34 LORD chesterfield's from the foundation of Rome to the entire conquest of Italy. And in the following two hundred years she attained to the Empire of the World ; that is, in seven hundred years from the foundation of the city. LETTER XIII. Romulus, qui (comme je vous Pai deja dit) etoit le Fondateur, et le premier Roi de Rome, n'ayant pas d'abord beaucoup cPhabitans pour sa nouvelle ville, songea a tous les moyens d'en augmenter le nombre, et pour cet effet, il publia qu'elle serviroit d'asyle, c'est a dire, de refuge et de lieu de surete pour ceux qui seroient bannis des autres villes d'ltalie. Cela lui attira bien des gens qui sortirent de ces villes, soit a cause de leurs dettes, soit a cause des crimes qu'ils y avoient commis : car un asyle est un endroit qui sert de protection a tous ceux qui y viennent, quelque crime quails aient commis, et on ne put les y prendre ni les punir. Avouez qu'il est assez sur- prenant que d'un pareil amas de vauriens et de coquins, il en soit sorti la nation la plus sage et la plus vertueuse qui fut jamais. Mais c'est que Ro- mulus y fit de si bonnes loix, inspira a tout le peuple un tel amour de la patrie, et de la gloire, y etablit si bien la religion, et le culte des Dieux, que pen- dant quelques centaines d'annees ce fut un peuple de Heros, et de gens vertueux. TRANSLATION. Romulus, who (as I have already told you) was the founder and first King of Rome, not having suffi- cient inhabitants for his new city, considered every method by which he might augment their number ; LETTERS TO HIS SON. 35 and to that end, he issued out a proclamation, de- claring, that it should be an asylum, or, in other words, a sanctuary and place of safety, for such as were banished from the different cities of Italy. This device brought to him many people, who quitted their respective towns, whether for debt, or on ac- count of crimes which they had committed : an asy- lum being a place of protection for all who fly to it ; where, let their offences be what they will, they cannot be apprehended nor punished. Pray, is it not very astonishing, that, from such a vile assem- blage of vagrants and rogues, the wisest and most virtuous nation, that ever existed, should deduce its origin ? The reason is this ; Romulus enacted such wholesome laws, inspired his people with so great a love of glory and their country, and so firmly esta- blished religion, and the worship of the Gods, that, for some succeeding ages, they continued a nation of Heroes and virtuous men. LETTER XIV. Je vous ai deja souvent parle dela necessite qu'il y a de savoir Phistoire a fond ; mais je ne peux pas vous le redire trop souvent. Ciceron Pappelle avec raison ; Testis tempormn, lux veritatis, vita memories, maqistra vitce, nuntia vetustatis. Par le secours de Phistoire un jeune homme peut, en quelque facon, acquerir P experience de la vieillesse; en lisant ce qui a ete fait, il apprend ce qu'il a a faire, et plus il est instruit du passe, mieux il saura se conduire a Favenir. De toutes les Histoires anciennes, la plus interes- sante, et la plus instructive, e'est Phistoire Romaine. Elle est la plus fertile en grands homines, et en 3G LORD CHESTERFIELD'S grands evenemens. Elle nous amme, plus que toute autre, a la vertu ; en nous montrant, comment une petite ville, comme Rome, fondee par une poignee cle Patres et d'Aventuriers, s'est rendue dans l'espace de sept cents ans maitresse du monde, par le moyen de sa vertu et de son courage. C'est pourquoi j'en ai fait un abrege fort en raccourci. Pour vous en faciliter la connoissance, et Pirn primer d'autant mieux dans votre esprit, vous le traduirez, peu a peu, dans un livre que vous m'apporterez tous les Dimanches. Tout le terns de Phistoire Romaine, depuis Romu- lus jusqu'a Auguste, qui est de sept cents vingt trois ans, peut se diviser en trois parties. La premiere est sous les sept Rois de Rome, et dure deux cents quarante quatre ans. La seconde depuis Petablissement des Consuls et l'expulsion des Rois, jusqu'a la premiere Guerre Punique, est aussi cle deux cents quarante quatre ans. La troisieme s'etend, depuis la premiere Guerre Punique jusqu'au regne d' Auguste, et elle dure deux cents trente cinq ans; ce qui fait en tout, les sept cents vingt trois ans, ci-dessus mentionnes, de- puis sa fondation, jusqu'au regne d' Auguste. Sous le regne d' Auguste, Rome etoit au plus haut point de sa grandeur, car elle etoit la Maitresse du Monde; mais elle ne P etoit plus d'elle-meme ; ayant perdu son ancienne liberte, et son ancienne vertu. Auguste y etablit le Pouvoir absolu des Empereurs, qui devint bien-t6t une tyrannie horrible et cruelle sous autres Empereurs ses successeurs, moyennant quoi, Rome decbut de sa grandeur en moins de terns qu'elle n'en avoit pris pour y monter. Le premier gouvernement de Rome fut Mo- narcbique, mais une Mon archie bornee, et pas ab- solue, car le Senat partageoit Pautorite avec le Roi. Le Royaume etoit electif, et non pas hereditaire, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 37 c'est-a-dire, quand un Roi mouroit, on en choisissoit un autre, el le fils ne succedoit pas au pere. Romu- lus, qui fut le fonclateur de Rome, en fut aussi le premier Roi. II fut elu par le peuple, et forma le premier plan du gouvernement. II etablit le Senat, qui consistoit en cent membres ; et partagea le peuple en trois ordres. Les Patriciens, c'est-a-dire les gens du premier rang ; les Chevaliers, c'est-a- dire ceux du second rang ; tout le reste etoit peuple, qu'il appella Plebeiens. Traduisez ceci en Anglois, et apportez-le-moi Di- manche, ecrit sur ces lignes que je vous envoie. TRANSLATION. I have often told you how necessary it was to have a perfect knowledge of History ; but cannot repeat it often enough. Cicero properly calls it, Testis temporum, lux veritatis, vita memorise, magistra vita, nuntia vetustatis. By the help of History, a young man may, in some measure, acquire the experience of old age. In reading what has been done, he is apprized of what he. has to do; and, the more he is informed of what is past, the better he will know how to conduct himself for the future. Of all ancient histories, the Roman is the most interesting and instructive. It abounds most with accounts of illustrious men, and presents us with the greatest number of important events. It like- wise spurs us on, more than any other, to virtuous actions, by showing how a small city, like Rome, founded by a handful of shepherds and vagabonds, could, in the space of seven hundred years, render herself mistress of the world by courage and virtue. Hence it is, that I have resolved to form a small abridgment of that history, in order to facilitate your acquiring the knowledge of it; and, for the VOL. I. E 38 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S better imprinting it in your mind, I desire that, by little and little, you would translate, and copy it fair into a book, which you must not fail to bring to me every Sunday. The whole time of the Roman history, from Ro- mulus down to Augustus Caesar, being seven hundred and twenty-three years, may be divided into three periods. The first, under the seven Kings, is of two hun- dred and forty-four years. The second, from the expulsion of the Kings, and establishment of the Consuls, to the first Punic War, is likewise two hundred and forty-four years. The third is, from the first Punic War down to the reign of Augustus Caesar, and lasts two hundred and thirty-five years: which three periods, added together, make up the seven hundred and twenty- three years abovementioned, from the foundation of Rome to the reign of Augustus Caesar. In the reign of Augustus Rome was at the sum- mit of her greatness; for she was mistress of the world, though no longer mistress of herself, having lost both her ancient liberty and her ancient virtue. Augustus established the Imperial power, which soon degenerated into the most detestable and cruel tyranny, under the succeeding Emperors; in con- sequence of which, Rome fell from her former great- ness, in a shorter space of time than she had taken to ascend to it. The first form of government established at Rome was Monarchical; but a limited, not an absolute Monarchy, as the power was divided between the King and the Senate. The Kingdom was elective, and not hereditary ; that is, when one King died, another was chosen in his room, and the son of the deceased King did not succeed him. Romulus, who was founder of Rome, was also her first King; he was elected by the people, and he formed the first LETTERS TO HIS SON. 39 system of government. He appointed the Senate, which consisted of one hundred ; and divided the people into three orders; namely, Patricians, who were of the first rank or order ; Knights, of the se- cond ; and the third was the common people, whom he called Plebeians. Translate this into English, and bring it me next Sunday, written upon the lines which I now send you. LETTER XV. Romulus et Remus etoient jumeaux, et fils de Rhea Sylvia, fille de Numitor Roi cPAlbe. Rhea Sylvia fut enfermee et mise au nombre des Vestales, par son oncle Amulius, afin qu'elle n'eut point d'enfans, car les Vestales etoient obligees a la chastete. Elle devint pourtant grosse, et pretendit que le Dieu Mars Tavoit forcee. Quand elle accoucha de Ro- mulus et de Remus, Amulius ordonna qu'ils fussent jettes dans le Tibre. lis y furent effectivement portes dans leur berceau ; mais Teau s'etant retiree, le berceau resta a sec. Une Louve, qui etoit venue la pour boire, les allaita, jusqu' a ce que Faustulus, un berger, les emporta chez lui, et les eleva comme les siens. Etant devenus grands, ils allerent avec nombre de Latins, d'Albains, et de berger s, et ils fonderent Rome. Romulus pour regner seuly tua son frere Remus, et fut declare Roi par tons ces gens-la. Etant clevenu Souverain, il partagea le peuple en trois tribus et trente Curies, en Patriciens, Plebeiens, Senat, Patrons, Cliens, et Chevaliers. Les Patriciens etoient les plus accredites, et les plus considerables. Les Plebeiens etoient le petit peuple. Les Patrons etoient les gens les plus respectables qui protegeoient un certain nombre du petit peuple, 40 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S qu'on appelloit leurs Cliens. Le Senat consistoit de cent personnes choisies d'entre les Patriciens ; et les Chevaliers etoient une troupe de trois cents homines a cheval, qui servoient de garde du corps a Romulus, et qu'il appella Celeres. Mais Romulus ne se contenta pas de ces re- glemens civils, il institua aussi le culte des Dieux, et etablit les Aruspices et les Augures, qui etoient des Pretres, dont les premiers consultoient les en- trailles des victimes qu'on sacrifioit, et les derniers observoient le vol, et le chant des oiseaux, et de- claroient si les presages etoient favorables ou non, avant qu'on entreprit quelque chose que ce put etre. Romulus, pour attirer des habitants a sa nouvelle ville, la declara un asyle a tous ceux qui viendroient s'y etablir ; ce qui attira un nombre infini de gens, qui y accoururent des autres villes, et campagnes voisines. Un Asyle veut dire, un lieu de surete, et de protection, pour ceux qui sont endettes, ou qui, ayant commis des crimes, se sauvent de la justice. Dans les pays Catholiques, les eglises sont actuelle- ment des asyles pour toute sorte de criminels qui s'y refugient. Mais on manquoit de femmes a Rome: pour sup- pleer a ce defaut, Romulus envoya faire des propo- sitions de mariage a ses voisins les Sabins, mais les Sabins rejetterent ces propositions, avec hauteur; sur quoi Romulus fit publier dans les lieux circon- voisins qu'un tel jour, il celebreroit la fete du Dieu Consus*, et qu'il invitoit tout le monde a y assister. On y accourut de toutes parts, et principalement les Sabins, quand tout d'un coup, a un signal donne, les Romains, l'epee a la main, se saisissent de toutes les femmes qui y etoient : et les epouserent apres. Cet evenement remarquable s'appelle PEnlevement des Sabines. Les Sabins, irrites de cet affront et de * Selon Plutarque c'6toit le Dieu des Conseils. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 41 cette injustice, declarerent la guerre aux Romains, qui fut terminee et une paix conclue, par Pentremise des femmes Sabines, qui etdient etablies a Rome. Les Romains et les Sabins s'unirent parfaitement, ne flrent qu'un peuple; et Tatius Roi des Sabins regna conjoin tement avec Romulus. Tatius mourut bientot apres, et Romulus regna encore seul. II faut remarquer que ^Enlevement des Sabines fut une action plus utile que juste : mais Putilite ne doit pas autoriser P injustice, car Pon doit tout souffrir, et meme mourir, plutot que de commettre une injus- tice. Aussi ce fut la seule que les Romains fi rent pendant plusieurs siecles : Un Siecle veut dire, cent ans. Les voisins de Rome devinrent bientot jaloux de cette Puissance naissante ; de sorte que Romulus eut encore plusieurs guerres a soutenir, dans les- quelles il remporta toujours la victoire ; mais comme il commencoit a devenir tyrannique chez lui, et qu'il vouloit oter au Senat leurs privileges, pour regner plus despotiquement ; tout cPun coup il dis- parut et Pon ne le vit plus. La verite est que les Senateurs Pavoient tue ; mais comme ils craignoient la colere du peuple, un Senateur des plus accre- dites nomme Proculus Julius, protesta au peuple, que Romulus lui avoit apparu comme Dieu, et Pavoit assure, qu'il avoit ete transporte au Ciel, et place parmi les Dieux; qu'il vouloit meme que les Romains Padorassent sous le nom de Quirinus, ce qu'ils firent. Remarquez bien que le gouvernement de Rome sous Romulus etoit un gouvernement mixte et lib re; et que le Roi n' etoit rien moins qu'absolu; au contraire il partageoit Pautorite avec le Senat, et le peuple, a peu pres comme le Roi, ici, avec la Chambre Haute, et la Chambre Basse. De sorte que Romulus voulant faire une injustice si criante, que de violer les droits du Senat et la liberie du e 2 42 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S peuple, fut justement puni, comme tout tyran merite de Petre. Tout homme a un droit naturel a sa liberte, et quiconque veut la lui ravir, merite la mort, plus que celui qui ne cherche qu'a lui voler son argent sur le grand chemin. La plupart des loix et des arrangemens de Ro- mulus avoient egard principalement a la guerre, et etoient formes dans le dessein de rendre le peuple belliqueux : comme en efFet il le fut, plus que tout autre. Mais c' etoit aussi un bonheur pour Rome, que son successeur, Numa Pompilius, etoit cVun naturel pacifique, qu'il s'appliqua a etablir le bon ordre dans la ville, et a faire des loix pour encourager la vertu, et la religion. Apres la mort de Romulus, il y eut uri Interregne d'un an ; un Interregne est Pintervalle entre la mort d'un Roi et Pelection d'un autre; ce qui peut seulement arriver dans les Royaumes Electifs ; car dans les Monarchies Hereditaires, des Pinstant qu'un Roi meurt, son fils ou son plus proche parent devient immediatement Roi. Pendant cet interregne, les Senateurs faisoient alternativement les fonctions de Roi. Mais le peuple se lassa de cette sorte de gouvernement, et voulut un Roi. Le choix etoit difficile; les Sabins d'un cote, et les Romains de P autre, voulant chacun un Roi d' entre eux. II y avoit alors dans la petite ville de Cures, pas loin de Rome, un homme d'une grande reputation de probite, et de justice, appelle Numa Pompilius, qui menoit une vie retiree et champetre, et jouissoit d'un doux repos, dans la solitude de la campagne. On convint done, unanimement, de le choisir pour Roi, et Pon envoya des Ambassadeurs le lui notifier. Mais bien loin d'etre ebloui par une elevation si subite, et si imprevue, il refusa ; et ne se laissa flechir qu'avec peine, par les instances reiterees des Romains et de ses plus proches parens: meritant d'autant plus cette dignite, qu'il ne la recherchoit LETTERS TO HIS SON. 43 pas. Remarquez, par cet exemple de Numa Pom- pilius, comment la vertu se fait jour, au travers in erne de Pobscurite cPune vie retiree et champetre, et comment tot ou tard elle est toujours recom- pensee. Numa place sur le trone, ' entreprit d'adoucir les mceurs des Romains, et de leur inspirer un esprit pacifique par les exercices de la religion. II batit un temple en Phonneur du Dieu Janus, qui devoit etre un indice public de la guerre, ou de la paix ; etant ouvert en terns de guerre, et ferme en terns de paix. II fut ferme pendant tout son regne; mais depuis lors jusqu'au regne de Cesar Auguste, il ne fat ferme que deux fois : la premiere apres la pre- miere Guerre Punique, et la seconde apres la bataille d'Actium, ou Auguste defit Antoine. Le Dieu Janus est toujours represents avec deux visages, Tun qui regarde le passe et P autre Pavenir ; a cause de quoi, vous le verrez souvent dans les Poetes Latins appelle Janus Bifrons, c'est a dire qui a deux fronts. Mais pour revenir a Numa : il pretendit avoir des entre- tiens secrets avec la Nympbe Egerie pour disposer le peuple, qui aime toujours le merveilleux, a mieux recevoir ses loix et ses reglemens, comme lui etant inspires par la divinite meme. Enfin il etablit le bon ordre, a la ville et a la campagne ; il inspira a ses sujets Pamour du travail, de la frugalite, et meme de la pauvrete. Apres avoir regne quarante trois ans, il mourut regrette de tout son peuple. On peut dire, que Rome etoit redevable de toute sa grandeur a ses deux premiers Rois, Romulus et Numa, qui en jetterent les fondemens. Romulus ne forma ses sujets qu'a la guerre ; Numa qu'a la paix et a la justice. Sans Numa, ils auroient ete feroces et barbares; sans Romulus, ils auroient peut-etre restes dans le repos, et Pobscurite. Mais c'etoit cet heureux assemblage de vertus religieuses, 44 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S eiviles et militaires, qui les rendit a la fin les maitres du moncle. Tullus Hostilius fut elu Roi, bientot apres la mort cle Numa Pompilius. II avoit P esprit aussi guerrier, que Numa Pavoit eu pacifique, et il eut bientot occasion de Pexercer; car la ville d'Albe, jalouse deja de la puissance de Rome, chercha un pretexte pour lui faire la guerre. La guerre etant declaree de part et d' autre, et les deux armees sur le point d'en venir aux mains ; un Albain proposa, que pour epargner le sang de tant de gens, on choisiroit dans les deux armees, un certain nombre, dont la victoire decideroit clu sort des deux villes : Tullus Hostilius accepta la proposition. II se trouvoit dans Parmee des Albains trois freres, qui s'appelloient les Curiaces, et dans Parmee des Romains trois freres aussi qu'on nommoit les Ho- races : lis etoient de part et cP autre a peu pres de me me age et de meme force. lis furent choisis, et accepterent avec joie un choix qui leur faisoit tant d'honneur. lis s'avancent entre les deux armees, et Pon donne le signal du combat. D'abord deux des Horaces sont tues par les Curiaces qui tous trois furent blesses. Le troisieme Horace etoit sans blessure, mais ne se sentant pas assez fort pour resister aux trois Curiaces, au defaut de force il usa de stratageme. II fit done semblant de fuir, et ay ant fait quelque chemin, il regarcla en arriere et vit les trois Curiaces, qui le poursuivoient, a quelque distance Pun de P autre, selon que leurs blessures leur permettoient de marcher, alors il retourne sur ses pas, et les tue Pun apres Pautre. Les Romains le recurent avec joie dans leur camp; mais sa sceur, qui etoit promise a un des Curiaces, vient a sa rencontre, et versant un torrent de larmes, lui reproche d' avoir tue son amant. Sur quoi ce jeune vainqueur dans les transports de son LETTERS TO HIS SON. 45 emportement, lui passe Pepee au travers du corps. La justice le conclamna a la mort, mais il en ap- pella au peuple qui lui parclonna, en consideration du service qu'il venoit de leur rendre. Tullus Hostilius regna trente deux ans, et fit d'autres guerres contre les Sabins et les Latins. C'etoit un Prince qui avoit de grandes qualites, mais qui aimoit trop la guerre. TRANSLATION. Romulus and Remus were twins, and sons of Rhea Sylvia, daughter of Numitor, King of Alba. Rhea Sylvia was, by her uncle Amulius, shut up among the Vestals, and constrained by him to become one of their number, to prevent her having any children : for the Vestals were obliged to inviolable chastity. She, nevertheless, proved with child, and pretended she had been forced by the God Mars. When she was delivered of Romulus and Remus, Amulius commanded the infants to be thrown into the Tiber. They were in fact brought to the river, and exposed in their cradle : but the water retiring, it remained on the dry ground. A she wolf coming there to drink, suckled them, till they were taken home by Faustulus, a shepherd, who educated them as his own. When they were grown up, they asso- ciated with a number of Latins, Albans, and shep- herds, and founded Rome. Romulus, desirous of reigning alone, killed his brother Remus, and was declared King by his followers. On his advance- ment to the throne, he divided the people into three Tribes, and thirty Curice ; into Patricians, Plebeians, Senate, Patrons, Clients, and Knights. The Patricians were the most considerable of all. The common people were called Plebeians. The Patrons were of the most reputable sort, and protected a certain 46 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S number of the lower class, who went under the de- nomination of their Clients. The Senate consisted of one hundred persons, chosen from among the Patricians ; and the Knights were a select body of three hundred horsemen, who served as Life Guards to Romulus, to whom he gave the name of Celeres. But Romulus, not satisfied with these regulations, instituted a form of religious worship ; establishing the Auruspices and Augurs. These were Priests; and the business of the former was to inspect the entrails of the victim offered in sacrifice; that of the latter, to observe the flying, chattering, or singing of birds, declaring whether the omens were favour- able or not, before the undertaking of an enter- prise. Romulus, with a view of attracting people to his new city, declared it an asylum, or sanctuary, for all who were willing to establish their abode in it. This expedient brought an infinite number of people, who flocked to him from the neighbouring towns and country. An Asylum, signifies a place of safety and protection, for all such as are loaded with debts, or who have been guilty of crimes, and fly from justice. In Catholic countries, their churches are, at this very time, Asylums for all sorts of crimi- nals, who take shelter in them. But Rome, at this time, had few or no women : to remedy which want, Romulus sent proposals of marriage to his neighbours, the Sabines ; who re- jected them with disdain : whereupon Romulus pub- lished throughout all the country, that, on a certain day, he intended to celebrate the festival of the God Cons us*, and invited the neighbouring cities to assist at it. There was a great concourse from all parts, on that occasion, particularly of the Sabines ; when, on a sudden, the Romans, at a signal given, seized, sword in hand, all the young wQmen they could * According to Plutarch, the God of Counsel. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 47 meet : and afterwards married them. This remark- able event is called, the Rape of the Sabines. En- raged at this affront and injustice, the Sabines declared war against the Romans ; which was put an end to, and peace concluded, by the mediation of the Sabine women living at Rome. A strict union was made between the Romans and Sabines, who became one and the same people; and Tatius, King of the Sabines, reigned jointly with Romulus; but dying soon after, Romulus reigned again alone. Pray observe, that the Rape of the Sabines was more an advantageous than a just measure ; yet the utility of it should not warrant its injustice ; for we ought to endure every misfortune, even death, rather than be guilty of an injustice; and indeed this is the only one that can be imputed to the Romans for many succeeding ages: an Age, or Century, means one hundred years. Rome's growing power soon raised jealousy in her neighbours, so that Romulus was obliged to engage in several wars, from which he always came off victorious; but as he began to behave himself tyrannically at home, and attacked the privileges of the Senate, with a view of reigning with more de- spotism, he suddenly disappeared. The truth is, the Senators killed him ; but, as they apprehended the indignation of the people, Proculus Julius, a Senator of great repute, protested before the people, that Romulus had appeared to him as a God; as- suring him that he had been taken up to Heaven, and placed among the Deities : and desired that the Romans should worship him, under the name of Quirinus ; which they accordingly did. Take notice, that the Roman government, under Romulus, was a mixed and free government ; and the King so far from being absolute, that the power was divided between him, the Senate, and the people, much the same as it is between our King, 48 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S the House of Lords, and House of Commons ; so that Romulus, attempting so horrible a piece of injustice, as to violate the privileges of the Senate, and the liberties of the People, was deservedly pu- nished, as all tyrants ought to be. Every man has a natural right to his liberty; and whoever endea- vours to ravish it from him deserves death more than the robber who attacks us for our money on the highway. Romulus directed the greatest part of his laws and regulations to war ; and formed them with the view of rendering his subjects a warlike people, as indeed they were, above all others. Yet it likewise proved fortunate for Rome, that his successor, Numa Pompilius, was a Prince of a pacific disposition, who applied himself to the establishing good order in the city, and enacting laws for the encouragement of virtue and religion. After the death of Romulus, there was a year's Interregnum. An Interregnum is the interval be- tween the death of one King and the election of another, which can happen only in elective king- doms ; for, in hereditary monarchies, the moment a King dies, his son, or his nearest relation, imme- diately ascends the throne. During the above Interregnum, the Senators alter- nately executed the functions of a Sovereign; but the people soon became tired of that sort of govern- ment, and demanded a King. The choice was dif- ficult ; as the Sabines on one side, and the Romans on the other, were desirous of a King's being chosen from among themselves. However, there happened, at that time, to live in the little town of Cures, not far from Rome, a man in great re- putation for his probity and justice, called Numa Pompilius, who led a retired life, enjoying the sweets of repose, in a country solitude. It was unani- mously agreed to choose him King: and Ambas- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 49 sadors were dispatched to notify to him his election ; but he, far from being dazzled by so sudden and unexpected an elevation, refused the offer, and could scarce be prevailed on to accept it, by the repeated entreaties of the Romans, and of his nearest rela- tions ; proving- himself the more worthy of that high dignity, as he the less sought it. Remark from that example of Numa Pompilius ; how virtue forces her way, and shines through the obscurity of a retired life ; and that sooner or later it is always rewarded. Numa, being now seated on the throne, applied himself to soften the manners of the Romans, and to inspire them with a love of peace, by exercising them in religious duties. He built a temple in ho- nour of the God Janus, which was to be a public mark of war and peace, by keeping it open in time of war, and shut in time of peace. It remained closed during his whole long reign ; but from that time, down to the reign of Augustus Caesar, it was shut but twice ; once at the end of the first Punic War, and the second time, in the reign of Augustus, after the fight of Actium, where he vanquished Marc Antony. The God Janus is always repre- sented with two faces, one looking on the time past, and the other on the future ; for which reason you will often find him, in the Latin Poets, called Janus bifrons, two-fronted Janus. But, to return to Numa ; he pretended to have secret conferences with the Nymph Egeria, the better to prepare the people (who are ever fond of what is marvellous) to receive his laws and ordinances as divine inspirations. In short, he inspired his subjects with the love of in- dustry, frugality, and even of poverty. He died, universally regretted by his people, after a reign of forty-three years. We may venture to say, that Rome was indebted for all her grandeur to these two Kings, Romulus VOL. I. F 50 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S and Numa, who laid the foundations of it. Ro- mulus took pains to form the Romans to war; Numa, to peace and justice. Had it not been for Numa, they would have continued fierce and unci- vilized ; had it not been for Romulus, they would, perhaps, have fallen into indolence and obscurity : but it was the happy union of religious, civil, and military virtues, that rendered them masters of the world. Tullus Hostilius was elected King, immediately after the death of Numa Pompilius. This Prince had as great talents for war, as his predecessor had for peace, and he soon found an opportunity to exercise them; for the city of Alba, already jealous of the power* of Rome, sought a pretext of coming to a rupture with her. War, in fact, was declared on both sides, and the two armies were ready to engage, when an Alban proposed, in order to spare so great an effusion of blood, that a certain number of war- riors should be chosen out of each army, on whose victory the fortune of both nations should depend. Tullus Hostilius accepted the proposal ; and there happening to be, in the Alban army, three brothers, named Curiatii ; and in the Roman army, three brothers, called Horatii ; who were all much of the same age and strength, they were pitched upon for the champions, and joyfully accepted a choice which reflected so much honour on them. Then, ad- vancing in presence of both armies, the signal for combat was given. Two of the Horatii were soon killed by the Curiatii, who were themselves all three wounded. The third of the Horatii remained yet unhurt : but, not capable of encountering the three Curiatii all together, what he wanted in strength, he supplied by stratagem. He pretended to run away, and, having gained some ground, looked back, and saw the three Curiatii pursuing him, at some dis- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 51 tance from each other, hastening with as much speed as their wounds permitted them ; he then returning, killed all three, one after another. The Romans received him joyfully in their camp ; but his sister, who was promised in marriage to one of the Curiatii, meeting him, poured forth a deluge of tears, reproaching him with the death of her lover ; whereupon the young conqueror, transported with rage, plunged his sword into her bosom. Jus- tice condemned him to death ; but having appealed to the People, he received his pardon, in considera- tion of the service he had rendered to his country. Tullus Hostilius reigned thirty-two years, and con- ducted other wars against the Sabines and Latins. He was a Prince possessed of great qualities, but too much addicted to war. LETTER XVI. DEAR BOY, Monday. I send you, here enclosed, your historical exercise for this week; and thank you for correcting some faults I had been guilty of in former papers. I shall be very glad to be taught by you ; and, I assure you, I would rather have you able to instruct me, than any other body in the world. I was very well pleased with your objection to my calling the bro- thers, that fought for the Romans and the Albans, the Horatii and the Curiatii ; for which I can give you no better reason than usage and custom, which determine all languages. As to ancient proper names, there is no settled rule, and we must be guided by custom : for example, we say Ovid and Virgil, and not Ovidius and Virgilius, as they are in Latin ; but then, we say Augustus Caesar, as in the Latin, and 52 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S not August Caesar, which would be the true English, We say Scipio Africanus, as in Latin, and not Scipio the African. We say Tacitus, and not Tacit : so that, in short, custom is the only rule to be observed in this case. But, wherever custom and usage will allow it, I would rather choose not to alter the ancient proper names. They have more dignity, I think, in their own, than in our language. The French change most of the ancient proper names, and give them a French termination or ending, which some- times sounds even ridiculons ; as, for instance, they call the Emperor Titus, Tite; arid the historian, Titus Livius, whom we commonly call in English Livy, they call Tite Live. I am very glad you started this objection ; for the only way to get knowledge is to inquire and object. Pray remember to ask ques- tions, and to make your objections, whenever you do not understand, or have any doubts about any thing. LETTER XVII. Bientot apres la mort de Tullus Hostilius, le peuple choisit pour Roi Ancus Marcius, petit-fils de Numa. II retablit d'abord le culte divin qui avoit ete un peu neglige pendant le regne guerrier de Tullus Hostilius. II essuya quelques guerres, malgre lui, et y remporta to uj ours Pa vantage. II aggrandit la ville de Rome, et mourut apres avoir regne vingt quatre ans. II ne se ceda en merite, soit pour la guerre, soit pour la paix, a aucun de ses prede- cesseurs. Un certain Lucumon, Grec de naissance, qui s'etoit etabli a Rome sous le regne d' Ancus Marcius, fut elu Roi a sa place, et prit le nom de Tarquin. II crea cent nouveaux Senateurs, et soutint plusieurs LETTERS TO HIS SON. 53 guerres contre les peuples voisins, dont il sortit tou- jours avec avantage. 11 augmenta, embellit, et fortifia la ville. II fit cles Aqueducs et des Egouts. II batit aussi le Cirque, et jetta les fondemens du Capitole : le Cirque etoit un lieu celebre, a Rome, ou Pon faisoit les courses de chariots. Tarquin avoit destine pour son successeur Servius Tullius, qui avoit ete prisonnier de guerre, et par consequent esclave ; ce que les fils d' Ancus Marcius, qui etoient a cette heure devenus grands, ayant trouve mauvais, ils firent assassiner Tarquin qui avoit regne trente buit ans. L* attentat, et le crime des fils d* Ancus Marcius leur farent inu tiles, car Servius Tullius fut declare Roi par le peuple, sans demauder le consentement du Senat. II soutint plu- sieurs guerres qu'il termina heureusement. II par- tagea le peuple en dix neuf Tribus ; il etablit le Cens, ou le denombrement du peuple, et il intro- duisit la coutume d'affranchir les esclaves. Servius songeoit a abdiquer la couronne, et a etablir a Rome une parfaite Republique, quand il fut assassine par son gendre Tarquin le Superbe. II regna quarante quatre ans, et fut, sans contredit, le meilleur de tous les Rois de Rome. Tarquin etant monte sur le trone, sans que ni le Peuple, ni le Senat, lui eussent confere la Royaute ; la conduite qu'il y garda repondit a de tels com- mencemens, et lui fit donner le surnom de Superbe. II renversa les sages etablissemens des Rois ses pre- decesseurs, foula aux pieds les droits du peuple, et gouverna en Prince arbitraire et despotique. II batit un temple magnifique a Jupiter, qui fut ap- pelle le Capitole, a cause qu'en creusant les fonde- mens, on y avoit trouve la tete d'un homme, qui s'appelle en Latin Caput : le Capitole etoit le bail- ment le plus celebre de Rome. La tyrannic de Tarquin etoit deja devenue odieuse et insupportable aux Remains, quand Faction de 54 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S son fils Sextus leur fournit une occasion de s'en afl franchir. Sextus etant clevenu amoureux de Lu- crece femme de Collatin, et celle-ci ne voulant pas consentir a ses desirs, il la forca. Elle decouvrit le tout a son Man et a Brutus, et apres leur avoir fait promettre de venger Paffront qu'on lui avoit fait, elle se poignarda. La dessus ils souleverent le peuple, et Tarquin avec toute sa famille fut banni de Rome, par un decret solennel, apres y avoir regne vingt cinq ans. Telle est la fin que meritent tous les tyrans, et tous ceux qui ne se servent du pouvoir que le sort leur a donne, que pour faire du mal, et opprimer le genre humain. Du terns de Tarquin, les livres des Sybilles furent apportes a Rome, conserves toujours apres avec un grand soin, et consultes comme des oracles. Tarquin, ehasse de Rome, fit plusieurs tentatives pour y rentrer, et causa quelques guerres aux Ro- mains. II engagea Porsenna, Roi d'Hetrurie, a appuyer ses interets, et a faire la guerre aux Ro- mains pour le retablir. Porsenna marcha done contre les Romains, defit leur armee, et auroit pris Rome meme, s'il n'eut ete arrete par la valeur d'Ho- ratius Codes, qui defendit seul contre toute Parmee un pont, par ou il falloit passer. Porsenna intimide par les prodiges de valeur et de courage, qu'il voyoit iaire tous les jours, aux Romains, jugea a propos de conclure la paix avec eux, et de se retirer. Ils eurent plusieurs autres guerres avec leurs voisins, dont je ne ferai point mention, ne voulant m'arreter qu'aux evenemens les plus importans. En voici un qui arriva bientot, seize ans apres Petablissement des Consuls. Le peuple etoit ex- tremement endette, et refusa de s'enroller pour la guerre, a moins que ses dettes ne fussent abolies. L'occasion etoit pressante, et la difficulte grande, mais le Senat s'avisa d'un expedient pour y reme- dier; ce fut cle creer un Dictateur, qui auroit un LETTERS TO HIS SON. 55 pouvoir absolu, et au dessus de toutes les loix, mais qui ne dureroit que pour un peu de terns seulement. Titus Largius, qui fut nomme a cette Dignite, ap- paisa le desordre, retablit la tranquillite, et puis se demit de sa charge. On eut souvent, dans la suite, recours a cet expe- dient d'un Dictateur, dans les grandes occasions ; et il est a remarquer, que quoique cette charge fut re- vetue d'un pouvoir absolu et despotique, pas un seul Dictateur n'en abusa, pour plus de cent ans. TRANSLATION. Soon after the death of Tullus Hostilius, the people placed upon the throne Ancus Marcius, grandson to Numa Pompilius. His first care was to reesta- blish divine worship, which had been somewhat neglected during the warlike reign of his predeces- sor. He engaged in some wars against his will, and always came off with advantage. He enlarged the city ; and died after a reign of twenty-four years : a Prince not inferior, whether in peace or war, to any of his predecessors. One Lucumon, a Greek by birth, who had esta- blished himself at Rome in the reign of Ancus Marcius, was chosen King in his place, and took the name of Tarquin. He added a hundred Se- nators to the former number ; carried on, with suc- cess, several wars against the neighbouring States; and enlarged, beautified, and strengthened the city. He made the Aqueducts and Common Sewers, built the Circus, and laid the foundation of the Capitol : the Circus was a celebrated place at Rome, set apart for chariot-races, and other games. Tarquin had destined for his successor Servius Tullius, one who, having been taken prisoner of war, was consequently a slave; which the sons of 56 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Ancus Marcius, now grown up, highly resenting., caused Tarquin to be assassinated, in the thirty- eighth year of his reign : but that criminal deed of the sons of Ancus Marcius was attended with no success; for the people elected Servius Tullius King, without asking the concurrence of the Senate. This Prince was engaged in various wars, which he hap- pily concluded. He divided the people into nine- teen Tribes ; established the Census, or general sur- vey of the citizens; and introduced the custom of giving liberty to slaves, called otherwise, manumis- sion. Servius intended to abdicate the crown, and form a perfect Republic at Rome, when he was assassinated by his son-in-law, Tarquin the Proud. He reigned forty-four years, and was, without dis- pute, the best of all the Kings of Rome. Tarquin, having ascended, the throne, invited to Royalty neither by the people nor Senate, his con- duct was suitable to such a beginning, and caused him to be surnamed the Proud. He overturned the wise establishments of the Kings his predecessors, trampled upon the rights of the people, and governed as an arbitrary and despotic Prince. He built a magnificent temple to Jupiter, called the Capitol, be- cause, in digging its foundation, the head of a man had been found there, which in Latin is called Caput : the Capitol was the most celebrated edifice in Rome. The tyranny of Tarquin was already become odious and insupportable to the Romans ; when an atrocious act of his son Sextus administered to them an opportunity of asserting their liberty. This Sextus, falling in love with Lucretia, wife to Collatinus, who would not consent to his desires, ravished her. The Lady discovered the whole matter to her husband, and to Brutus, and then stabbed herself; having first made them promise to revenge the outrage done to her honour. Whereupon they raised the people; and Tarquin, with all his family, was ex- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 57 pelled by a solemn decree, after having reigned twenty-five years. Such is the fate that tyrants de- serve, and all those who, in doing evil, and oppress- ing mankind, abuse that power which Providence has given. In the reign of Tarquin, the. books of the Sibyls were brought to Rome, and ever after preserved and consulted as oracles. Tarquin, after his expulsion, made several at- tempts to reinstate himself, and raised some wars against the Romans. He engaged Porsenna, King of Hetruria, to espouse his interest, and make war upon them, in order to his restoration. Porsenna marched against the Romans, defeated their forces, and most probably would have taken the city, had it not been for the extraordinary courage of Horatius Codes, who alone defended the pass of a bridge against the whole Tuscan army. Porsenna, struck with admiration and awe of so many prodigies of valour as he remarked every day in the Romans, thought proper to make peace with them, and draw off his army. They had many other wars with their neighbours, which I omit mentioning, as my purpose is to dwell only upon the most important events. Such is the following one, which happened about sixteen years after the establishing of Consuls. The people were loaded with debts, and refused to enlist themselves in military service, unless those debts were can- celled. This was a very pressing and critical junc- ture ; but the Senate found an expedient, which was to create a Dictator, with a powder so absolute as to be above all law ; which, however, was to last but a short time. Titus Largius was the personage named for the purpose ; who, having appeased the tumult, and restored tranquillity, laid down his high em- ployment. 58 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S The Romans had often-, in succeeding times, and on pressing occasions, recourse to this expedient. It is remarkable, that, though that office was invested with an absolute and despotic power, not one Dic- tator abused it, for upwards of a hundred years. LETTER XVIII. Nous voici parvenus a une importante Epoque de P Histoire Romaine, c'est-a-dire, a P establissement d'un gouvernement fibre. Les Rois et la Royaute etant bannis de Rome, on resolut de creer a la place d'un Roi, deux Consuls, dont Pautorite ne seroit qu'annuelle, c'est-a-dire, qu'elle ne dureroit qu'un an. On laissa au peuple le droit d'elire les Consuls, mais il ne pouvoit les choisir que parmi les Patriciens, c'est-a-dire les gens de qualite. Les deux Consuls avoient le meme pouvoir qu' avoient auparavant les Rois, mais avec cette difference essentielie, qu'ils n' avoient ce pouvoir que pour un an, et qu' a la fin de ce terme, ils en devoient rendre compte au peuple: moyen assure d'en prevenir Pabus. Ils etoient appelles Consuls du verbe Latin consulere, qui signifie Con- seiller, comme qui diroit, les Conseillers de la Republique. Les deux premiers Consuls qu'on elut furent L. Junius Brutus, et L. Collatinus, le mari de Lucrece. Les Consuls avoient les memes marques de dignite que les Rois, excepte la couronne et le sceptre. Mais ils avoient la robe de pourpre, et la Chaire Cur ale, qui etoit une Chaise d' ivoire, sur des roues. Les Consuls, le Senat, et le Peuple, firent tous LETTERS TO HIS SON. 59 serment, de ne pas rappeller Tarquin, et de ne jamais souffrir de Roi a Rome^ Remarquez bien la forme du gouvernement de Rome. L'autorite etoit partagee entre les Consuls, le Senat, le Peuple ; chacun avoit ses droits : et depuis ce sage etablissement, Rome s'eleva, par un progres rapide, a une perfection, a une excellence qu'on a peine a concevoir. Souvenez-vous que le gouvernement monarchique avoit dure deux cents quarante quatre ans. TRANSLATION. We are now come to an important epocha of the Roman History; I mean, the establishment of a free government. Royalty being banished Rome, it was resolved to create, instead of a King, two Consuls, whose autho- rity should be annual; or, in other words, was to last no longer than one year. The right of electing the Consuls was left to the people ; but they could choose them only from among the Patricians ; that is, from among men of the first rank. The two Consuls were jointly invested with the same power the Kings had before, with this essential difference, that their power ended with the year; and, at the expiration of that term, they were obliged to give an account of their regency to the people : a sure means to prevent the abuse of it. They were called Con- suls, from the Latin verb conmlere, to counsel; which intimated their being Counsellors to the Republic. The first Consuls elected were L. Junius Brutus, and P. Collatinus, Lucretia's husband. The Con- suls held the same badges of dignity as the Kings, excepting the crown and sceptre. They had the purple robe, and the Curule chair, being a chair of 60 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S ivory, set upon wheels. The Consuls, Senate, and People, took a solemn oath, never to recall Tarquin, or suffer a King in Rome. Take notice of the form of the Roman govern- ment. The power was divided between the Con- suls, Senate, and People ; each had their rights and privileges : and, from the time of that wise establish- ment, Rome exalted herself, with a rapid progress, to such a high point of perfection and excellency, as is scarce to be conceived. Remember, that the monarchical government lasted two hundred and forty-four years. LETTER XIX. Ce pendant les Patriciens en agissoient assez mal avec le peuple, et abusoient du pouvoir que leur rang et leurs richesses leur donnoient. lis imprison- noient ceux des Plebeiens qui leur devoient de P argent, et les chargeoient de chaines. Ce qui causa tant de mecontentement, que le peuple quitta Rome, et se retira en corps, sur le Mont Sacre^ a trois milles de Rome. Une desertion si generate donna Palarme au Senat et aux Patriciens, qui leur envoyerent des deputations pour les persuader de revenir ; mais inutilement. A la fin on choisit dix des plus sages et des plus moderes du Senat, qu'on envoya au peuple avec un plein pouvoir de conclure la paix, aux meilleures conditions qu'ils pourroient. Menenius Agrippa, qui portoit la parole, termina son discours au peuple par un apologue qui les frappa extremement. " Autrefois," dit il, " les membres du corps humain, indignes de ce qu'ils travailloient tous pour Pestomac, pendant que lui, oisif et paresseux, jouissoit tranquillement des plaisirs, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 6! qu'on lui preparoit, convinrent de ne plus rien faire : mais voulant dompter ainsi Pestomac, par la famine, tons les membres et tout le corps tomberent dans une foiblesse, et une inanition extreme." II comparoit ainsi cette division intestine des parties du corps, avec la division qui separoit le peuple d' avec le Senat. Cette application plut tant au peuple que la paix fut conclue a certaines conditions, dont la principale etoit, que le peuple choisiroit, parmi eux, cinq nouveaux magistrats, qui furent appellez Tribuns du peuple. lis etoient elus tous les ans-, et rien ne pouvoit se faire sans leur con- sen tement. Si Ton proposoit quelque loi, et que les Tribuns du peuple s'y opposassent, la loi ne pouvoit passer; ils n' etoient pas meme obliges d'alleguer de raison pour leur opposition, il suffisoit qu'ils dissent simplement Veto, qui veut dire, je de- fends. Remarquez bien cette epoque interessante de Phistoire Romaine, et ce changement considerable dans la forme du gouvernement, qui assura au peuple, pendant quelques Siecles, leurs droits et leurs privileges, que les Grands sont to uj ours trop portes a envahir injustement. Ce changement arriva Pan de Rome 261, c'est-a-dire, vingt et un an apres le bannissement des Rois, et P etablissement des Consuls. Outre les Tribuns, le peuple obtint aussi deux nouveaux Magistrats annuels appelles les Ediles du peuple, qui etoient soumis aux Tribuns du peuple, faisoient executer leurs ordres, rendoient la justice sous eux, veilloient a Pentretien des temples et des batimens publics, et prenoient soin des vivres. Remarquez quels etoient les principaux Magistrats de Rome. Premierement c' etoient les deux Consuls, qui etoient annuels, et qui avoient entre eux le pouvoir des Rois. Apres cela, dans les grands besoins, on crea la charge de Dictatemy qui ne VOL. I. G 62 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S duroit ordinairement que six mois, mais qui etoit revetue d'un pouvoir absolu. Les Tribuns du Peuple etoient des Magistrats annuels, qui veilloient aux interets du peuple, et les protegeoient contre les injustices des Patriciens. Pour les Ediles, je viens de decrire leurs fonctions. Quelques annees apres on crea encore deux nouveaux Magistrats, qui s'appelloient les Censeurs. lis etoient d' abord pour cinq ans; mais ils furent bientot reduits a un an et demi. Ils avoient un tres-grand pouvoir, ils faisoient le denombrement du peuple ; ils imposoient les taxes, ils avoient soin des mceurs, et pouvoient chasser du Senat ceux qu'ils en jugeoient indignes ; ils pouvoient aussi degrader les Chevaliers Romains, en leur otant leur cheval. Pas fort long terns apres, on crea encore deux autres nouveaux Magistrats, appelles les Preteitrs ; qui etoient les principaux Officiers de la justice, et jugeoient tous les proces. Voici done les grands Magistrats de la Republique Romaine, selon Pordre de leur etablissement : les Consuls, le Dictateur, les Tribuns du Peuple, les Ediles, les Censeurs, les Preteurs. TRANSLATION. The Patricians, however, treated the people unge- nerously, and abused the power which their rank and riches gave them. They threw into prison such of the Plebeians as owed them money, and loaded them with irons. These harsh measures caused so great a discontent, that the people in a body aban- doned Rome, and retired to a rising ground, three miles distant from the city, called Mons Sacer. Such a general defection alarmed the Senate and Patri- cians ; who sent a deputation to persuade them to return, but to no purpose. At length some of the LETTERS TO HIS SON. 63 wiset and most moderate of the Senators were sent on that business, with full powers to conclude a peace on the best conditions they could obtain. Agrippa, who spoke in behalf of the Senate, finished his discourse with a fable, which made great impres- sion on the minds of the people. " Formerly/' said he, u the members of the human body, enraged that they should labour for the stomach, while that, remaining idle and indolent, quietly enjoyed those pleasures which were prepared for it, agreed to do nothing: but, intending to reduce the stomach by famine, they found that all the members grew weak, and the whole body fell into an extreme inanition." Thus he compared this intestine division of the parts of the human body, with the division that separated the people from the Senate. This appli- cation pleased them so much, that a reconciliation was effected on certain conditions ; the principal of which was, that the people should choose among themselves five new Magistrates, who were called Tribunes of the People. They were chosen every year, and nothing could be done without their con- sent. If a motion was made for preferring any law, and the Tribunes of the People opposed it, the law could not pass ; and they were not even obliged to allege any reason for their opposition ; their merely pronouncing Veto, was enough; which signifies / forbid. Take proper notice of this interesting epocha of the Roman History, this important alteration in the form of government, that secured, for some ages, the rights and privileges of the people, which the Great are but too apt to. infringe. This alteration happened in the year of Rome 261 ; twenty-one years after the expulsion of Kings, and the estab- lishment of Consuls. Besides the Tribunes, the people obtained two other new annual magistrates, called JEdiles, who were subject to the authority of the Tribunes, admi- 64 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S nistered justice under them, took care of the building and reparation of temples, and other public struc- tures, and inspected provisions of all kinds. Remember who were the principal Magistrates of Rome. First, the Consuls, whose office was annual, and who, between them, had the power of Kings : next, the Dictator, created on extraordinary emer- gencies, and whose office usually lasted but six months. The Tribunes of the People were annual Magis- trates, who acted as guardians of the rights of the Commons, and protected them from the oppression of the Patricians. With regard to the JEdiles, I have already mentioned their functions. Some years after, two other new Magistrates were created, called Censors. This office, at first, was to continue five years ; but it was soon confined to a year and a half. The authority of the Censors was very great ; their duty was the survey of the people, the laying on of taxes, and the censure of manners. They were empowered to expel any person from the Senate, whom they deemed unworthy of that Assem- bly; and degrade a Roman Knight, by depriving him of his horse. Not very long after, two Praetors were instituted. These Magistrates were the chief Officers of justice, and decided all lawsuits. Here you have a list of the great Magistrates of the Roman Commonwealth, according to their order and institution: the Con- suls, the Dictator, the Tribunes of the People, the JEcliles, the Censors, the Praetors. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 66 LETTER XX. I/an 300 de Rome, les Romains n' avoient pas encore de loix fixes et certaines, de sorte que les Consuls et les Senateurs, qu'ils commettoient pour juger, etoient les Arbitres absolus du sort des citoyens. Lepeuple voulut, done, qu'au lieu de ces jugemens arbitraires, on etablit des loix qui servissent de regies sures, tant a Pegard du governement et des affaires pubiiques, que par rapport aux differens entre les particuliers. Sur quoi, le Senat ordonna qu'on enverroit des Ambassadeurs a Athenes, en Grec, pour etudier les loix de ce pays, et en rapporter celles qu* ils jugeroient les plus convenables a la Republique. Ces Ambassadeurs etant de retour, on elut dix personnes (qui furent appellees les De- cemvirs) pour etablir ces nouvelles loix. On leur donna un pouvoir absolu pour un an, et pendant ce tems-la, il n'y avoit point d* autre Magistral a Rome. Les Decemvirs firent graver leurs loix sur des tables d'airain posees dans Pendroit le plus apparent de la place publique; et ces loix furent toujours apres appellees les Loix des Dix Tables *. Mais lorsque le terme du gouvernement des De- cemvirs fut expire, ils ne voulurent point se demettre de leur pouvoir, mais se rendirent par force les Tyrans de la Republique : ce qui causa de grands tumultes. A la fin ils furent obliges de ceder, et Rome reprit son ancienne forme de gouvernement. L'annee 365 de Rome, les Gaulois (e'est a dire les Francois) entrerent en Italie, et marcberent vers Rome, avec une armee de plus de soixante mille hommes. Les Romains envoyerent a leur rencontre * Plus communement nominees Les Loix des Douze Tables, parce que depuis il y en eut deux d'ajoutees aux dix premieres. G 2 66 LORD chesterfield's une armee, levee a la hate, dequarante mille hommes. On se battit, et les Romains furent entierement defaits. A cette triste nouvelle, tous ceux qui etoient restes a Rome se retirerent dans le Capitole, qui etoit la Citadelle, et s'y fortifierent aussi bien que le terns le permettoit. Trois jours apres, Bren- nus, le General des Gaulois, s'avanca jusqu'a Rome avec son armee, et trouvant la ville abandonnee, et sans defense, il assiegea la citadelle, qui se defendit avec une bravoure incroyable. Une nuit que les Gaulois vouloient la prendre par surprise, et qu'ils etoient montes jusqu' aux portes, sans qu'on s'en appercut : M. Manlius, eveille par les cris et batte- ment d'ailes des oies, donna Palarme, et sauva la citadelle. Bientot apres, Camille, un illustre Ro- main, qui avoit ete banni de Rome, ay ant appris le danger auquel sa Patrie se trouvoit exposee, survint avec ce qu'il put trouver de troupes dans les pays voisins, dent entierement les Gaulois, et sauva Rome. Admirez ce bel exemple de grandeur d'ame ! Camille, banni injustem en t de Rome, oublie P injure qu'on lui a faite, son amour pour sa Patrie Pemporte sur le desir de se venger, et il vient sauver ceux qui avoient voulu le perdre. TRANSLATION. In the year of the city 300, the Romans had no written or fixed statutes, insomuch that the Consuls and Senators, who were appointed Judges, were absolute Arbiters of the fate of the citizens. The people therefore demanded, that, instead of such arbitrary decisions, certain stated laws should be enacted, as directions for the administration of public affairs, and also with regard to private litigations. Whereupon the Senators sent Ambassadors to Athens in Greece, to study the laws of that coun- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 67 try, and to collect such as they should find most suitable to the Republic. When the Ambassadors returned, ten persons (who were styled Decemviri) were elected for the institution of these new laws. They were invested with absolute power for a whole year ; during which time all other magistracies were suspended. The Decemviri caused their laws to be engraved on brazen tables; which ever after were called the Laws of the Ten Tables*. These were placed in the most conspicuous part of the principal square in the city. When the time of the Decem- viri was expired, they refused to lay down their power ; but maintained it by force, and became the tyrants of the Republic. This caused great tumults ; however, they were at length constrained to yield ; and Rome returned to its ancient form of govern- ment. About the year of Rome 365, the Gauls (that is to say, the French) entered Italy, and marched towards Rome with an army of above sixty thousand men. The Romans levied in haste an army of forty thou- sand men, and sent it to encounter them. The two armies came to an engagement, in which the Romans received a total defeat. On the arrival of this bad news, all who had remained at Rome fled into the Capitol, or Citadel, and there fortified themselves, as well as the shortness of time would permit. Three days after, Brennus, General of the Gauls, advanced to Rome with his army, and found the city aban- doned; whereupon he laid siege to the Capitol, which was defended with incredible bravery. One night when the Gauls determined to surprise the Capitol, and had climbed up to the very ramparts, without being perceived, M. Manlius, awakened by the cackling of geese, alarmed the garrison, and saved the Capitol. At the same time Camillus, an * More generally called the Laws of the Twelve Tables, Two having been added since, to the original Ten. 68 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S illustrious Roman, who, some time before, had been banished from the city, having had information of the danger to which his country was exposed, came upon the Gauls in the rear, with as many troops as he could muster up about the country, and gave them a total overthrow. Admire, in Camillus, this fine example, this greatness of soul ; he who, having been unjustly banished, forgetful of the wrongs he had received, and actuated by the love of his coun- try, more than the desire of revenge, comes to save those who had sought his ruin. LETTER XXI. MON CHER ENFANT, A Bath, ce 28me Mars, 1739. JPai recu une lettre de Monsieur Maittaire, dans laquelle il me dit beaucoup de bien de vous, et m' assure que vous apprenez bien ; sur quoi j'ai d'abord achete quelque chose de fort joli pour vous apporter d'ici. Voyez un peu si vous n'avez pas sujet d'aimer Monsieur Maittaire, et de faire tout ce que vous pouvez ; a fin qu' il soit content de vous. II me dit que vous allez a present recommencer ce que vous avez deja appris; il faut y bien faire attention, au moins, et ne pas repeter comme un perroquet, sans savoir ce que cela veut dire. Je vous ai dit dans ma derniere, que pour etre parfaitement honnete homme, il ne suffisoit pas simplement d'etre juste; mais que la generosite, et la grandeur d'ame, alloient bien plus loin. Vous le comprendrez mieux, peut-etre, par des exemples : en voici. Alexandre le grand, Roi de Macedoine, ayant vaincu Darius Roi de Perse, prit un nombre infini de prisonniers, et entre autres la femme et la mere LETTERS TO HIS SON. 69 de Darius ; or selon les droits de la guerre il auroit pu avec justice en faire ses esclaves; mais il avoit trop de grandeur d* ame pour abuser de sa victoire. II les traita to uj ours en Reines, et leur temoigna les memes egards, et le meme respect, que s'il eut ete leur sujet. Ce que Darius ay ant entendu, dit qu' Alexandre meritoit sa victoire, et qu'il etoit seul digne de regner a sa place. Remarquez par la comment des ennemis memes sont forces de donner des louanges a la vertu, et a la grandeur d'ame. Jules Cesar, aussi, le premier Empereur Romain, avoit de Phumanite, et de la grandeur d'ame ; car apres avoir vaincu le grand Pompee, a la bataille de Pharsale, il pardonna a ceux, que selon les loix de la guerre, il auroit pu faire mourir : et non seulement il leur donna la vie, mais il leur rendit leurs biens et leurs honneurs. Sur quoi, Ciceron dans une de ses Harangues, lui dit ce beau mot; Nihil enim potest fortuna tua majus, quam ut possis, aut Natura tua melius, quam ut velis, conservare quamplurimos: ce qui veut dire ; " Votre fortune ne pouvoit rien faire de plus grand, pour vous, que de vous donner le pouvoir de sauver tant de gens ; et la nature ne pouvoit rien faire de meilleur, pour vous, que de vous en donner la volonte." Vous voyez encore par la, la gloire, et les eloges, qu'on gagne a faire du bien ; outre le plaisir qu'on ressent en soi-meme, et qui surpasse tous les autres plaisirs. Adieu, je finirai cette lettre comme Ciceron finis- soit souvent les siennes. Jebeo te bene valere ; c'est a-dire: je vous ordonne de vous bien porter. 70 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Bath, March the 28th, 1739. I have received a letter from Mr. Maittaire, in which he gives a very good account of you ; and assures me, that you improve in learning; upon which I immediately bought something very pretty, to bring you from hence. Consider, now, whether you ought not to love Mr. Maittaire; and to do every thing in your power to please him. He tells me, you are going to begin again what you have already learned : you ought to be very attentive, and not repeat your lessons like a parrot, without knowing what they mean. In my last I told you, that, in order to be a per- fectly virtuous man, justice was not sufficient; for that generosity and greatness of soul implied much more. You will understand this better by examples : here are some. Alexander the Great, King of Macedonia, having conquered Darius, King of Persia, took an infinite number of prisoners; and, among others, the wife and mother of Darius. Now, according to the laws of war, he might with justice have made slaves of them : but he had too much greatness of soul to make a bad use of his victory ; he therefore treated them as Queens, and showed them the same atten- tions and respect, as if he had been their subject; which Darius hearing of, said, that Alexander de- served to be victorious, and was alone worthy to reign in his stead. Observe by this, how virtue, and greatness of soul, compel even enemies to bestow praises. Julius Caesar too, the first Emperor of the Romans, was in an eminent degree possessed of humanity, and this greatness of soul. After having vanquished LETTERS TO HIS SON. 71 Pompey the Great, at the battle of Pharsalia, he pardoned those, whom, according to the laws of war, he might have put to death; and not only gave them their lives, but also restored them their for- tunes, and their honours. Upon which Cicero, in one of his Orations, makes this beautiful remark, speaking to Julius Caesar : Nihil enim potest for tuna tua majus, quam ut possis, aut Natura tua melius, quam ut velis, conservare quamplurimos : which means> " Fortune could not do more for you, than give you the power of saving so many people; nor Nature serve you better, than in giving you the will to do it." You see by that, what glory and praise are gained by doing good ; besides the pleasure which is felt inwardly, and exceeds all others. Adieu! I shall conclude this letter, as Cicero often does his ; Jubeo te bene valere : that is to say, I order you to be in good health. LETTER XXII. DEAR BOY, Tunbridge, July the 15th, 1739. I thank you for your concern about my health; which I would have given you an account of sooner, but that writing does not agree with these waters. I am better since I have been here; and shall there- fore stay a month longer. Signor Z anil) on i compliments me, through you, much more than I deserve ; but pray do you take care to deserve what he says of you ; and remember, that praise, when it is not deserved, is the severest satire and abuse; and the most effectual way of exposing people's vices and follies. This is a figure of speech, called Irony ; which is saying directly the contrary of what you mean ; but yet it is not a 72 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S lie, because you plainly show, that you mean directly the contrary of what you say ; so that you deceive nobody. For example ; if one were to compliment a notorious knave, for his singular honesty and pro- bity ; and an eminent fool for his wit and parts, the irony is plain; and every body would discover the satire. Or, suppose that I were to commend you for your great attention to your book, and for your retaining and remembering what you have once learned ; would not you plainly perceive the irony, and see that I laughed at you ? Therefore, whenever you are commended for any thing, consider fairly, with yourself, whether you deserve it or not ; and if you do not deserve it, remember that you are only abused and laughed at ; and endeavour to deserve better for the future, and to prevent the irony. Make my compliments to Mr. Maittaire, and re- turn him my thanks for his letter. He tells me, that you are again to go over your Latin and Greek Grammar ; so that when I return, I expect to find you very perfect in it ; but if I do not, I shall com- pliment you upon your application and memory. Adieu. LETTER XXIII. MY DEAR BOY, July the 24th, 1739. I was pleased with your asking me, the last time I saw you, why I had left off writing; for I looked upon it as a sign that you liked and minded my letters : if that be the case, you shall hear from me often enough; and my letters may be of use, if you will give attention to them; otherwise it is only giving myself trouble to no purpose ; for it signifies nothing to read a thing once, if one does not mind and remember it. It is a sure sign of a little mind, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 73 to be doing one thing, and at the same time to be either thinking of another, or not thinking at all. One should always think of what one is about: when one is learning, one should not think of play ; and when one is at play, one should not think of one's learning. Besides that, if you do not mind your book while you are at it, it will be a double trouble to you, for you must learn it all over again. One of the most important points of life is Decency ; which is to do what is proper, and where it is pro- per; for many things are proper at one time, and in one place, that are extremely improper in another : for example ; it is very proper and decent, that you •should play some part of the day; but you must feel that it would be very improper and indecent, if you were to fly your kite, or play at nine pins, while you are with Mr. Maittaire. It is very proper and decent to dance well ; but then you must dance only at balls, and places of entertainment ; for you would be reckoned a fool, if you were to dance at church, or at a funeral. I hope, by these examples, you understand the meaning of the word Decency ; which in French is Bienseance ; in Latin, Decorum ; and in Greek, YlpLirov. Cicero says of it, Sic hoc Decorum quod elucet in vita, movet approbationem eorum quibuscum vivitur, ordine et constantia, et moderatione dictorum omnium atque factotum : by which you see how necessary Decency is, to gain the approbation of mankind. And, as I am sure you desire to gain Mr. Maittaire' s approbation, without which you will never have mine, I dare say you will mind and give attention to whatever he says to you, and behave yourself seriously and decently, while you are with him; afterwards play, run, and jump, as much as ever you please. VOL. I. H 74 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER XXIV. DEAR BOY, Friday. I was very glad when Mr. Maittaire told me, that you had more attention now than you used to have ; for it is the only way to reap any benefit by what you learn. Without attention, it is impossible to remember, and without remembering it is but time and labour lost to learn. I hope too, that your at- tention is not only employed upon words, but upon the sense and meaning of those words ; that is, that when you read, or get any thing by heart, you ob- serve the thoughts and reflections of the author, as well as his words. This attention will furnish you with materials, when you come to compose and in- vent upon any subject yourself : for example, when you read of anger, envy, hatred, love, pity, or any of the passions, observe what the author says of them, and what good or ill effects he ascribes to them. Observe too, the great difference between prose and verse, in treating the same subjects. In verse, the figures are stronger and bolder, and the diction or expression loftier or higher, than in prose ; nay, the words in verse are seldom put in the same order as in prose. Verse is full of metaphors, similes, and epithets. Epithets (by the way) are adjectives, which mark some particular quality of the thing or person to which they are added ; as for example, Pius JEneas, the pious JEneas ; Pius is the epithet : Fama Mendax, Fame that lies; Mendax is the epithet: Ylo^aq-toKVQ Aj^iWevs ; Achilles swift of foot ; Hofias- 6)kv(; is the epithet. This is the same in all languages ; as for instance ; they say in French, VEnvie pale et bleme, V Amour aveugle ; in English, pale, livid Envy, blind Love : these adjectives are the epithets. Envy, is always represented by the Poets, as pale, meagre, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 7-5 and pining away at other people's happiness. Ovid says of Envy, Vixque tenet lacrymas, quod nil lacrymabile cernit : which means, that Envy can scarce help crying, when she sees nothing to cry at ; that is, she cries when she sees others happy. Envy is certainly one of the meanest and most tormenting of all passions, since there is hardly any body, that has not some- thing for an envious man to envy : so that he can never be happy, while he sees any body else so. Adieu. LETTER XXV. DEAR BOY, Isleworth, September the 10th, 1739. Since you promise to give attention, and to mind what you learn, I shall give myself the trouble of writing to you again, and shall endeavour to instruct you in several things, that do not fall under Mr. Maittaire's province ; and which if they did, he could teach you much better than I can. I neither pretend nor propose to teach them you thoroughly ; you are not yet of an age fit for it : I only mean to give you a general notion, at present, of some things that you must learn more particularly hereafter, and that will then be the easier to you, for having had a general idea of them now. For example to give you some notion of History. History is an account of whatever has been done by any country in general, or by any number of people, or by any one man : thus, the Roman History is an account of what the Romans did, as a nation ; the History of Catiline's conspiracy, is an account of what was done by a particular number of people ; and the History of Alexander the Great, written 76 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S by Quintus Curtius, is the account of the life and actions of one single man. History is, in short, an account or relation of any thing that has been done. History is divided into sacred and profane, ancient and modern. Sacred History is the Bible, that is, the Old and New Testament. The Old Testament is the History of the Jews, who were God's chosen people ; and the New Testament is the History of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Profane History is the account of the Heathen Gods, such as you read in Ovid's Metamorphoses, and which you will know a great deal more of^ when you come to read Homer, Virgil, and the other ancient Poets. Ancient History is the account of all the king- doms and countries in the world, down to the end of the Roman Empire. Modern History is the account of the kingdoms and countries of the world, since the destruction of the Roman Empire. The perfect knowledge of history is extremely necessary; because, as it informs us of what was done by other people, in former ages, it instructs us what to do in the like cases. Besides, as it is the common subject of conversation, it is a shame to be ignorant of it. Geography must necessarily accompany History ; for it would not be enough to know what things were done formerly, but we must know where they were done; and Geography, you know, is the de- scription of the earth, and shows us the situations of towns, countries, and rivers. For example; Geography shows you that England is in the North of Europe, that London is the chief town of Eng- land, and that it is situated upon the river Thames, in the county of Middlesex : and the same of other towns and countries. Geography is likewise divided LETTERS TO HIS SON. 77 into ancient and modern ; many countries and towns having, now, very different names from what they had formerly ; and many towns, which made a great figure in ancient times, being now utterly destroyed, and not existing : as the two famous tow ns of Troy in Asia, and Carthage in Africa; of both which there are not now the least remains. Read this with attention, and then go to play with as much attention ; and so farewell. LETTER XXVI. DEAR BOY, Islewortli, September the 15th, 1739. History must be accompanied with Chronology, as well as Geography, or else one has but a very confused notion of it ; for it is not sufficient to know what things have been done, which History teaches us ; and where they have been done, which we learn by Geography ; but one must know when they have been done, and that is the particular business of Chronology. I will therefore give you a general notion of it. Chronology (in French la Chronologic) fixes the elates of facts; that is, it informs us when such and such things were done; reckoning from certain periods of time, which are called JBras, or Epochs ; for example, in Europe, the two principal seras or epochs, by which we reckon, are, from the creation of the world to the birth of Christ, which was four thousand years; and from the birth of Christ to this time, which is one thousand seven hundred and thirty-nine years: so that, when one speaks of a thing that was done before the birth of Christ, one says, it was done in such a year of the world ; as, for instance, Rome was founded in the three thoiu h 2 78 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S sand two hundred and twenty-fifth year of the world ; which was about seven hundred and fifty years before the birth of Christ. And one says, that Charlemain was made the first Emperor of Germany in the year eight hundred ; that is to say, eight hundred years after the birth of Christ. So that you see, the two great periods, seras, or epochs, from whence we date every thing, are the creation of the world, and the birth of Jesus Christ. There is another term in Chronology, called Cen- turies, which is only used in reckoning after the birth of Christ. A century means one hundred years; consequently, there have been seventeen centuries since the birth of Christ, and we are now in the eighteenth century. When any body says, then, for example, that such a thing was done in the tenth century, they mean, after the year nine hun- dred, and before the year one thousand, after the birth of Christ. When any body makes a mistake in Chronology, and says, that a thing was done some years sooner, or some years later, than it really was, that error is called an Anachronism. Chro- nology requires memory and attention ; both which you can have if you please : and I shall try them both, by asking you questions about this letter, the next time I see you. LETTER XXVII. DEAR BOY, Isleworth, September the 17th, 1739. In my two last letters I explained to you the mean- ing and use of History, Geography, and Chronology, and showed you the connection they had with one another; that is, how they were joined together, and depended each upon the other. We will now con- sider History more particularly by itself. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 79 The most ancient Histories of all are so mixed with fables, that is, with falsehoods and invention, that little credit is to be given to them. All the Heathen Gods and Goddesses, that you read of in the Poets, were only men and women; but, as they had either found out some useful invention, or had done a great deal of good in the countries where they lived, the people, who had a great veneration for them, made them Gods and Goddesses when they died, addressed their prayers, and raised altars to them. Thus Bacchus, the God of Wine, was only the first man who invented the making of wine ; which pleased the people so much, that they made a God of him : and may be they were drunk when they made him so. So Ceres, the Goddess of Plenty, who is always represented, in pictures, with wheatsheaves about her head, was only some good woman, who invented ploughing, and sowing, and raising corn : and the people, who owed their bread to her, deified her; that is, made a Goddess of her. The case is the same of all the other Pagan Gods and Goddesses, which you read of in profane and fabulous history. The authentic, that is, the true ancient history is divided into five remarkable periods or aeras, of the five great Empires of the world. The first Empire of the world was the Assyrian, which was destroyed by the Medes. The Empire of the Medes was over- turned by the Persians; and the Empire of the Persians was demolished by the Macedonians, under Alexander the Great. The Empire of Alexander the Great lasted no longer than his life ; for at his death, his Generals divided the world among them, and went to war with one another ; till, at last, the Roman Empire arose, swallowed them all up, and Rome becam e the mistress of the world . Remember, then, that the five great Empires, that succeeded each other, were these: — 1. The Assyrian Empire, first 80 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S established. 2. The Empire of the Medes. 3. The Persian Empire. 4. The Macedonian Empire. 5. The Roman Empire. If ever you find a word you do not understand, either in my letters or any where else, I hope you remember to ask your Mamma the meaning of it. Here are but three in this letter, which you are likely not to understand ; these are, Connection, which is a noun substantive, that signifies a joining, or tying together; it comes from the verb to connect, which signifies to join. For example ; one says of any two people, that are in- timate friends, and much together, there is a great connection between them, or, they are mightily con- nected. One says so also, of two things that have a resemblance, or a likeness to one another, there is a connection between them : as for example ; there is a great connection between Poetry and Painting, because they both express nature, and a strong and lively imagination is necessary for both. Deify is a verb, which signifies to make a God ; it comes from the Latin word Deus, God, and Fio, I become. The Roman Emperors were always deified after their death, though most of them were rather devils, when alive. Authentic means true; something that may be depended upon, as coming from good authority. For example ; one says, such a history is authentic, such a piece of news is authentic ; that is, one may depend upon the truth of it. I have just now received your letter, which is very well written. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 81 LETTER XXVIII. BEAR BOY, Thursday, Isleworth. As I shall come to town next Saturday, I would have you come to me on Sunday morning, about ten o'clock : and I would have you likewise tell Mr. Maittare, that, if it be not troublesome to him, I should be extremely glad to see him at the same time. I would not have given him this trouble, but that it is uncertain when I can wait upon him in town : I do not doubt but he will give me a good account of you, for I think you are now sensible of the advantages, the pleasure, and the necessity of learning well; I think, too, you have an ambition to excel in whatever you do, and therefore will apply yourself. I must also tell you, that you are now talked of as an eminent scholar, for your age ; and therefore your shame will be the greater, if you should not answer the expectations people have of you. Adieu. LETTER XXIX. DEAR BOY, Monday. It was a great pleasure to me, when Mr. Maittaire told me, yesterday, in your presence, that you began to mind your learning, and to give more attention. If you continue to do so, you will find two advan- tages in it : the one your own improvement, the other, my kindness ; which you must never expect, but when Mr. Maittaire tells me you deserve it. There is no doing any thing well without application and industry. Industry (in Latin Industria, and in Greek ayyivota) is denned (that is described) to be 82 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S frequens exercitium circa rem honestam, unde aliquis industrius dicitur, hoc est studiosus, vigilans. This I expect so much from you, that I do not doubt, in a little time, but that I shall hear you called Philip the industrious, or, if you like it better in Greek, QiXiinros ay^ivoog. Most of the great men of an- tiquity had some epithet added to their names, describing- some particular merit they had ; and why should not you endeavour to be distinguished by some honourable appellation ? Parts and quickness, though very necessary, are not alone sufficient ; at- tention and application must complete the business : and both together will go a great way. Accipite ergo animis, atque haec mea figite dicta. Adieu. We were talking yesterday of America, which I told you was first discovered by Christopher Colum- bus, a Genoese, through the encouragement of Fer- dinando and Isabella, King and Queen of Spain, in 1491, that is at the latter end of the fifteenth cen- tury ; but I forgot to tell you, that it took its name of America from one V espusius Americus, of Florence, who discovered South America, in 1497. The Spaniards began their conquests in America by the islands of St. Domingo and Cuba ; and soon after- wards Ferdinando Cortez, with a small army, landed upon the continent, took Mexico, and beat Monte- zuma, the Indian Emperor. This encouraged other nations to go and try what they could get in this new-discovered world. The English have got there, New York, New England, Jamaica, Barbadoes, Carolina, Pensylvania, and Maryland, and some of the Leeward islands. The Portuguese have got the Brazils; the Dutch, Curacoa, and Surinam; and the French, Martinico and New France. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 83 LETTER XXX. DEAR BOY, Monday. I have lately mentioned Chronology to you, though slightly; but, as it is very necessary you should know something of it, I will repeat it now a little more fully, in order to give you a better notion of it. Chronology is the art of measuring and distin- guishing time, or the doctrine of epochas, which, you know, are particular and remarkable periods of time. The word Chronology is compounded of the Greek word ^oovoe, which signifies Time, and \oyog, which signifies Discourse. Chronology and Geography are called the two eyes of History, because History can never be clear and well under- stood without them. History relates facts ; Chro- nology tells us at what time, or when those facts were done ; and Geography shows us in what place or country they were done. The Greeks measured their time by Olympiads, which was a space of four years, called in Greek OXvjuTtag. This method of computation had its rise from the Olympic Games, which were celebrated the beginning of every fifth year, on the banks of the river Alpheus, near Olym- pia, a city in Greece. The Greeks, for example, would say, that such a thing happened in such a year of such an Olympiad: as for instance; that Alexander the Great died in the first year of the 114th Olympiad. The first Olympiad was seven hundred and seventy four years before Christ ; so, consequently, Christ was born in the first year of the 195th Olympiad. The period or sera, from whence the Romans reckoned their time, was from the building of Rome ; which they marked thus, ab U. C. that is, a b Urbe Conditd. Thus, the Kings were expelled, and the 84 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Consular Government established, the 244th ab U. C. that is, of Rome. All Europe now reckons from the great epocha of the birth of Jesus Christ, which was one thousand seven hundred and thirty eight years ago ; so that, when any body asks, in what year did such or such a thing happen, they mean in what year since the birth of Christ. For example ; Charlemain, in French Charle- magne, was made Emperor of the West in the year 8Q0 ; that is, eight hundred years after the birth of Christ ; but, if we speak of any event or historical fact that happened before that time, we then say, it happened so many years before Christ. For instance ; we say Rome was built seven hundred and fifty years before Christ. The Turks date from their Hegira, which was the year of the flight of their false Prophet Maho- met, from Mecca ; and, as we say that such a thing was done in such a year of Christ ; they say, such a thing was done in such a year of the Hegira. Their Hegira begins in the 622d year of Christ, that is, above eleven hundred years ago. There are two great periods in Chronology, from which the nations of Europe date events. The first is the Creation of the world ; the second, the Birth of Jesus Christ. Those events that happened before the Birth of Christ, are dated from the Creation of the World. Those events which have happened since the Birth of Christ, are dated from that time ; as the present year 1739. For example; A.M. Noah's Flood happened in the year of the world 1 656 Babylon was built by Semiramis, in the year 1800 Moses was born in the year 2400 Troy was taken by the Greeks, in the year . . 2800 Rome founded by Romulus, in the year 3225 Alexander the Great conquered Persia 3674 LETTERS TO HIS SON. 85 Jesus Christ born in the year of the world . . . 4000 The meaning of A. M. at the top of these figures, is Anno Mundi, the year of the world. From the birth of Christ, all Christians date the events that have happened since that time ; and this is called the Christian cera. Sometimes we say, that such a thing happened in such a year of Christ, and sometimes we say, in such a century. Now, a cen- tury is one hundred years from the birth of Christ ; so that at the end of every hundred years a new cen- tury begins ; and we are, consequently, now in the eighteenth century. For example, as to the Christian aera, or since the birth of Christ : Mahomet, the false prophet of the Turks, who established the Mahometan religion, and writ the Alcoran, which is the Turkish book of religion, died in the seventh century ; that is, in the year of Christ Gharlemain was crowned Emperor in the last year of the eighth century, that is, in the year Here the old Roman Empire ended. William the Conqueror was crowned king of England in the eleventh century, in the year 1066 The Reformation, that is, the Protestant Reli- gion, begun by Martin Luther, in the six- teenth century, in the year 1530 Gunpowder invented, by one Bertholdus, a German Monk, in the fourteenth century, in the year 1380 Printing invented, at Haerlem in Holland, or at Strasbourg, or at Mentz in Germany, in the fifteenth century, about the year 1440 Adieu. 632 800 VOL. I. I 86 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER XXXI. MON CHER ENFANT, A Bath, ce 17me d'Oct. 1739. En verite je crois que vous etes le premier gallon a qui, avant Page de huit ans, on ait jamais parle des figures de la rhetorique, comme j'ai fait dans ma derniere*: mais aussi il me semble qu'on ne peut pas commencer trop jeune a y penser un peu ; et Tart de persuader a l'esprit, et de toucher le cceur, me rite bien qu'on y fasse attention de bonne heure. Vous concevez bien qu'un homme qui parle et qui ecrit elegamment et avec grace ; qui choisit bien ses paroles, et qui orne et embellit la matiere sur la- quelle il parle ou ecrit, persuaderamieux, et obtiendra plus facilement ce qu'il souhaite, qu'un homme qui s'explique mal, qui parle mal sa langne, qui se sert de mots bas et vulgaires, et qui enfin n'a ni grace, ni elegance en tout ce qu'il dit. Or c'est cet art de bien parler, que la Rhetorique enseigne ; et quoique je ne songe pas a vous y enfoncer encore; je vou- drois pourtant bien vous en donner quelque Idee, convenable a votre age. La premiere chose a laquelle vous devez faire at- tention, c'est de parler la langue que vous parlez, dans sa derniere purete, et selon les regies de laGram- maire. Car il n'est pas permis, de faire des fautes contre la Grammaire, ou de se servir de mots, qui ne sont pas veritablement des mots. Mais ce n'est pas encore tout, car il ne suffit point de ne pas parler mal ; mais il faut parler bien, et le meilleur moyen d'y parvenir est de lire avec attention les meilleurs livres, et de remarquer comment les honnetes gens et ceux qui parlent le mieux s'expriment ; car les Bour- geois, le petit peuple, les laquais, et les servantes, tout cela parle mal. lis ont des expressions basses et vulgaires, dont les honnetes gens ne doivent jamais * Qui ne se trouve pas. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 87 se servir. Dans les Nombres, ils j oignent le singulier et le pluriel ensemble; clans les Genres, ils con- fondent le masculin avec le feminin ; el dans les Terns, ils prennent souvent Tun pour P autre. Pour eviter toutes ces fautes, il faut lire avec soin ; remarquer le tour et les expressions des meilleurs auteurs ; et ne jamais passer un seul mot qu'on n'entend pas, ou sur lequel on a la moindre difficulte, sans en demander exactement la signification. Par exemple; quand vous lisez les Metamorphoses d'Ovide, avec Mon- sieur Martin ; il faut lui demander le sens de chaque mot que vous ne savez pas, et meme si c'est un mot, dont on peut se servir en prose aussi bien qu'en vers : car, comme je vous ai dit autrefois, le langage po- etique est different du langage ordinaire, et il y a bien des mots dont on se sert dans la poesie, qu'on feroit fort mal d' employer dans la prose. De meme quand vous lisez le Francois, avec Monsieur Pelnote, demandez-lui le sens de chaque nouveau mot que vous rencontrez chemin faisant ; et priez-le de vous donner des exemples de la maniere dont il faut s'en servir. Tout ceci ne demancle qu'un peu &' attention, et pourtant il n'y a rien de plus utile. II faut (dit- on) qu'un homme soit ne Poete; mais il peut se faire Orateur. Nascitur Poeta, Jit Orator, C'est-a- dire, qu'il faut etre ne avec une certaine force et vivacite d* esprit pour etre Poete; mais que Patten- tion, la lecture, et le travail suffisent pour faire un Orateur. Adieu. TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Bath, October the 17th, 1739. Indeed, I believe you are the first boy, to whom (under the age of eight years) one has ever ventured to mention the figures of rhetoric, as I did in my last*. But I am of opinion, that we cannot begin * Not to be found. 88 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S to think too young ; and that the art which teaches us how to persuade the mind, and touch the heart, must surely deserve the earliest attention. You cannot but be convinced, that a man who speaks and writes with elegance and grace; who makes choice of good words ; and adorns and em- bellishes the subject, upon which he either speaks or writes, will persuade better, and succeed more easily in obtaining what he wishes, than a man who does not explain himself clearly ; speaks his language ill ; or makes use of low and vulgar expressions ; and who has neither grace nor elegance in any thing that he says. Now it is by Rhetoric, that the art of speaking eloquently is taught: and, though I can- not think of grounding you in it, as yet, I would wish however to give you an idea of it suitable to your age. The first thing you should attend to is, to speak whatever language you do speak, in its greatest purity, and according to the rules of Grammar ; for we must never offend against Grammar ; nor make use of words, which are not really words. This is not all; for not to speak ill, is not sufficient; we must speak well ; and the best method of attaining to that, is to read the best authors with attention ; and to observe how people of fashion speak, and those who express themselves best ; for shop-keepers, common people, footmen, and maid-servants, all speak ill. They make use of low and vulgar expres sions, which people of rank never use. In Numbers, they join the singular and the plural together; in Genders, they confound masculine with feminine ; and in Tenses, they often take the one for the other. In order to avoid all these faults, we must read with care, observe the turn and expressions of the best authors; and not pass a word which we do not understand, or concerning which we have the least doubt, without exactly inquiring the meaning of it LETTERS TO HIS SON. 89 For example; when you read Ovid's Metamorphoses with Mr. Martin, you should ask him the meaning of every word you do not know; and also, whe- ther it is a word that may be made use of in prose, as well as in verse : for as I formerly told you, the language of poetry is different from that which is proper for common discourse ; and a man would be to blame, to make use of some words in prose, which are very happily applied in poetry. In the same manner, when you read French with Mr. Pelnote, ask him the meaning of every word you meet with, that is new to you ; and desire him to give you examples of the various ways in which it may be used. All this requires only a little attention ; and yet there is nothing more useful. It is said, that a man must be born a Poet ; but that he can make himself an Orator. Nascitur Poeta, fit Orator. This means, that, to be a Poet, one must be bom with a certain degree of strength and vivacity of mind ; but that attention, reading, and labour, are sufficient to form an Orator. Adieu. LETTER XXXII. DEAR BOY, Bath, October the 26th, 1739. Though Poetry differs much from Oratory in many things ; yet it makes use of the same figures of Rhetoric ; nay, it abounds in metaphors, similes, and allegories ; and you may learn the purity of the language, and the ornaments of eloquence, as well by reading verse as prose. Poetical diction, that is, poetical language, is more sublime and lofty than prose, and takes liberties which are not allowed in prose, and are called Poetical Licences. This difference between verse and prose you will easily l 2 90 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S observe, if you read them both with attention. In verse, things are seldom said plainly and simply, as one would say them in prose ; but they are described and embellished : as for example ; what you hear the watchman say often in three words, a cloudy morning is said thus in verse, in the tragedy of Cato : " The dawn is overcast, the morning lours, And heavily in clouds brings on the day." This is poetical diction ; which would be improper in prose, though each word separately may be used in prose. I will give you, here, a very pretty copy of verses of Mr. Waller's, which is extremely poetical, and full of images. It is to a Lady who played upon the lute. The lute, by the way, is an instrument with many strings, which are played upon by the fingers. " Such moving sounds from such a careless touch, So little she concern'd, and we so much. The trembling strings about her fingers crowd, And tell their joy, for every kiss, aloud. Small force there needs to make them tremble so, Touch'd by that hand, who would not tremble too 1 Here Love takes stand, and, while she charms the ear, Empties his quiver on the listening deer. Music so softens and disarms the mind, That not one arrow can resistance find. Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize, And acts herself the triumph of her eyes. So Nero once, with harp in hand, survey'd His flaming Rome : and as it burnt, he play'd." Mind all the poetical beauties of these verses. He supposes the sounds of the strings, when she touches them, to be the expression of their joy for kissing her fingers. Then, he compares the trembling of the strings to the trembling of a lover, who is supposed to tremble with joy and awe, when touched by the person he loves. He represents Love (who you LETTERS TO HIS SON. 91 know, is described as a little boy, with a bow, arrows, and a quiver) as standing by her, and shooting his arrows at people's hearts, while her music softens and disarms them. Then he concludes with that fine simile of Nero, a very cruel Roman Emperor, who set Rome on fire, and played on the harp all the while it was burning : for, as Love is represented by the Poets as fire and flames ; so she, while people were burning for love of her, played, as Nero did while Rome, which he had set on fire, was burning. Pray get these verses by heart against I see you. Adieu. You will observe, that these verses are all long, or heroic verses, that is, of ten syllables, or five feet ; for a foot is two syllables. LETTER XXXIII. MON CHER ENFANT, A Bath, ce 29me d'Octobre, 1739. Si Ton peut etre trop modeste, vous Petes, et vous meritez plus que vous ne demandez. Une canne a pomme d'ambre, et une paire de boucles, sont des recompenses tres-modiques pour ce que vous faites, et j'y ajouterai bien quelque autre chose. La mo. destie est une tres-bonne qualite, qui accompagne ordinairement le vrai merite. Rien ne gagne et ne previent plus les esprits que la modestie ; comme, au contraire, rien ne choque et ne rebute plus que la presomption et PefTronterie. On n'aime pas un homme, qui veut to u jours se faire valoir, qui parle avantageusement de lukmeme, et qui est toujours le heros de son propre Roman. Au contraire, un homme qui cache, pour ainsi dire, son propre me- rite, qui releve celui des autres, et qui parle peu et 92 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S modestement de lui-meme, gagne les esprits, et se fait estimer et aimer. Mais il y a, aussi, bien de la difference entre la modestie et la mauvaise honte; autant la modestie est louable, autant la mauvaise honte est ridicule. II ne faut non plus etre un nigaud, qu'un effronte ; et il faut savoir se presenter, parler aux gens, et leur repondre sans etre decontenance ou embarrasse. Les Anglois sont pour Pordinaire nigauds, et n'ont pas ces manieres aisees, et libres, mais en meme terns polies, qu'ont les Francois. Remarquez done les Francois, et imitez-les, dans leur maniere de se presenter, et d'aborder les gens. Un bourgeois ou un campagnard a honte quand il se presente dans une compagnie ; il est embarrasse, ne sait que faire de ses mains, se demonte quand on lui parle, et ne repond qu'avec embarras, et presqu* en begayant ; au lieu qu'un honnete homme, qui sait vivre, se presente avec assurance et de bonne grace, parle meme aux gens qu'il ne connoit pas, sans s'embar- rasser, et d'une maniere tout a fait naturelle et aisee. Voila ce qui s'appelle avoir du monde, et ' savoir vivre, qui est un article tres-important dans le com- merce du monde. II arrive souvent, qu'un homme, qui a beaucoup d' esprit et qui ne sait pas vivre, est moins bien recu, qu'un homme qui a moins d'esprit, mais qui a du monde. Cet objet merite bien votre attention; pensez-y done, et joignez la modestie a une assurance polie et aisee. Adieu. Je reeois dans le moment votre lettre du 27, qui est tres-bien ecrite. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 9a TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Bath, October the 29th, 1739. If it is possible to be too modest, you are ; and you deserve more than you require. An amber-headed cane, and a pair of buckles, are a recompense so far from being adequate to your deserts, that I shall add something- more. Modesty is a very good qua- lity, and which generally accompanies true merit: it engages and captivates the minds of the people ; as, on the other hand, nothing is more shocking and disgustful, than presumption and impudence. We cannot like a man who is always commending and speaking well of himself, and who is the hero of his own story. On the contrary, a man who endeavours to conceal his own merit; who sets that of other people in its true light; who speaks but little of himself, and with modesty : such a man makes a favourable impression upon the understanding of his hearers, and acquires their love and esteem. There is, however, a great difference between mo- desty, and an awkward bashfulness; which is as ridiculous as true modesty is commendable. It is as absurd to be a simpleton, as to be an impudent fellow ; and one ought to know how to come into a room, speak to people, and answer them, without being out of countenance, or without embarrassment. The English are generally apt to be bashful ; and have not those easy, free, and at the same time polite manners, which the French have. A mean fellow, or a country bumpkin, is ashamed when he comes into good company : he appears embarrassed, does not know what to do with his hands, is discon- certed when spoken to, answers with difficulty, and almost, stammers : whereas a gentleman, who is used to the world, comes into company with a graceful 94 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S and proper assurance, speaks, even to people he does not know, without embarrassment, and in a natural and easy manner. This is called usage of the world, and good breeding: a most necessary and important knowledge in the intercourse of life. It frequently happens that a man with a great deal of sense, but with little usage of the world, is not so well received as one of inferior parts, but with a gentlemanlike behaviour. These are matters worthy your attention ; reflect on them, and unite modesty to a polite and easy assurance. Adieu. I this instant receive your letter of the 27th, which is very well written. LETTER XXXIV. DEAR BOY, Bath, November the 1st, 1739. Let us return to Oratory, or the art of speaking well ; which should never be entirely out of your thoughts, since it is so useful in every part of life, and so absolutely necessary in most. A man can make no figure without it, in Parliament, in the Church, or in the Law ; and even in common con- versation, a man that has acquired an easy and ha- bitual eloquence, who speaks properly and accu- rately, will have a great advantage over those who speak incorrectly and inelegantly. The business of Oratory, as I have told you before, is to persuade people ; and you easily feel, that to please people is a great step towards persuading them. You must then, consequently, be sensible how advantageous it is for a man, who speaks in public, whether it be in Parliament, in the Pulpit, or at the Bar (that is, in the Courts of Law), to LETTERS TO HIS SON. 95 please his hearers so much as to gain their attention : which he can never do, without the help of Oratory. It is not enough to speak the language, he speaks in, in its utmost purity, and according to the rules of Grammar ; but he must speak it elegantly ; that is, he must choose the best and most expressive words, and put them in the best order. He should like- wise adorn what he says by proper metaphors, similes, and other figures of Rhetoric; and he should enliven it, if he can, by quick and sprightly turns of wit. For example; suppose you had a mind to persuade Mr. Maittaire to give you a holi- day, would you bluntly say to him, Give me a holiday? That would certainly not be the way to persuade him to it. But you should endeavour first to please him, and gain his attention, by telling him, that your experience of his goodness and indulgence encouraged you to ask a favour of him ; that, if he should not think proper to grant it, at least you hoped, he would not take it ill that you asked it. Then you should tell him, what it was that you wanted ; that it was a holiday ; for which you should give your reasons ; as, that you had such or such a thing to do, or such a place to go to. Then you might urge some arguments why he should not refuse you; as, that you have seldom asked that favour, and that you seldom will; and that the mind may sometimes require a little rest from la- bour, as well as the body. This you may illustrate by a simile, and say, that as the bow is the stronger, for being sometimes unstrung and unbent; so the mind will be capable of more attention, for being now and then easy and relaxed. This is a little oration, fit for such a little orator as you ; but, however, it will make you understand what is meant by oratory and eloquence : which is to persuade. I hope you will have that talent here- after in greater matters. 96 LORD CHESTERFIELD^ LETTER XXXV. DEAR BOY, November the 20th, 1739* As you are now reading the Roman History, I hope you do it with that care and attention which it de- serves. The utility of History consists principally in the examples it gives us, of the virtues and vices of those who have gone before us: upon which we ought to make the proper observations. History animates and excites us to the love and the practice of virtue ; by showing us the regard and veneration that was always paid to great and virtuous men, in the times in which they lived, and the praise and glory with which their names are perpetuated, and transmitted down to our times. The Roman His- tory furnishes more examples of virtue and magna- nimity, or greatness of mind, than any other. It was a common thing to see their Consuls and Dic- tators (who, you know, were their chief Magistrates) taken from the plough, to lead their armies against their enemies ; and, after victory, returning to their plough again, and passing the rest of their lives in modest retirement: a retirement more glorious, if possible, than the victories that preceded it! Many of their greatest men died so poor, that they were buried at the expense of the public. Curius, who had no money of his own, refused a great sum, that the Samnites offered him, saying, that he saw no glory in having money himself, but in commanding those that had. Cicero relates it thus : " Curio ad focum sedenti magnum auri pondus Samnites cum attulissent, repudiati ab eo sunt. Non enim aurum habere prceclarum sibi videri, sed lis, qui haberent aurum, imperare." And Fabricius, who had often commanded the Roman armies, and as often tri- umphed over their enemies, was found by his fire- LETTERS TO HTS SON. 97 side, eating those roots and herbs which he had planted and cultivated himself in his own field. Seneca tells it thus : Fabricius adfocum cocnat illas ipsas radices, quas, in agro repurgando, triumphalis Senex vulsit. Scipio, after a victory he had obtained in Spain, found among the prisoners a young Prin- cess of extreme beauty, who, he was informed, was soon to have been married to a man of quality of that country. He ordered her to be entertained and attended with the same care and respect, as if she had been in her father's house ; and, as soon as he could find her lover, he gave her to him, and added to her portion the money that her father had brought for her ransom. Valerius Maximus says, Eximia? formce virginem accersitis parentibus, et sponso invio- latam tradidit, et Juvenis, et C celebs, et Victor. This was a most glorious example of moderation, conti- nence, and generosity, which gained him the hearts of all the people of Spain ; and made them say, as Livy tells us, Venisse Diis simillimum juvenem, vin- centem omnia, eum armis, turn benignitate, ac bene- jiciis. Such are the rewards that always crown virtue; and such the characters that you should imitate, if you would be a great and a good man, which is the only way to be a happy one ! Adieu. LETTER XXXVI. DEAR BOY, Monday, I was very sorry that Mr. Maittaire did not give me such an account of you, yesterday, as I wished and expected. He takes so much pains to teach you, that he well deserves from you the returns of care and attention. Besides, pray consider, now that you VOL. I. K 98 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S have justly got the reputation of knowing much more than other boys of your age do, how shameful it would be for you to lose it ; and to let other boys, that are now behind you, get before you. If you would but have attention, you have quickness enough to conceive, and memory enough to retain ; but, without attention, while you are learning, all the time you employ at your book is thrown away ; and your shame will be the greater, if you should be ignorant, when you had such opportunities of learn- ing. An ignorant man is insignificant and con- temptible; nobody cares for his company, and he can just be said to live, and that is all. There is a very pretty French Epigram, upon the death of such an ignorant, insignificant fellow, the sting of which is, that all that can be said of him is, that he was once alive, and that he is now dead. This is the Epigram, which you may get by heart : Colas est mort de maladie, Tu veux que j'en pleure le sort, Que diable veux-tu que j'en die? Colas vivoit, Colas est mort. Take care not to deserve the name of Colas ; which I shall certainly give you, if you do not learn well : and then that name will get about, and every body will call you Colas ; which will be much worse than Frisky. You are now reading Mr. Rollin's ancient History : pray remember to have your maps by you, when you read it, and desire Monsieur Pelnote to show you, in the maps, all the places you read of. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 99 LETTER XXXVII. BEAR BOY, Saturday. Since you choose the name of Polyglot, I hope you will take care to deserve it ; which you can only do by care and application. I confess the names of Frisky, and Colas, are not quite so honourable ; but then, remember too, that there cannot be a stronger ridicule, than to call a man by an honourable name, when he is known not to deserve it. For example ; it would be a manifest irony to call a very ugly fel- low an Adonis (who, you know, was so handsome, that Venus herself fell in love with him), or to call a cowardly fellow an Alexander, or an ignorant fellow, Polyglot ; for every body would discover the sneer : and Mr. Pope observes very truly, that " Praise undeserved is satire in disguise." Next to the doing of things that deserve to be written, there is nothing that gets a man more credit, or gives him more pleasure, than to write things that deserve to be read. The younger Pliny (for there were two Plinys, the uncle and the nephew), ex- presses it thus : u Equidem beatos puto, quibus Deorum munere datum est, aut facere scribenda, aut legenda scribere ; beatissimos vero quibus utrumque." Pray mind your Greek particularly ; for to know Greek very well is to be really learned : there is no great credit in knowing Latin, for every body knows it ; and it is only a shame not to know it. Besides that, you will understand Latin a great deal the better for understanding Greek very well; a great number of Latin words, especially the technical words, being derived from the Greek. Technical words mean such particular words as relate to any 100 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S art or science; from the Greek word te\pn.s which signifies Art, and TtyviKog, which signifies Artificial. Thus, a Dictionary, that explains the terms of art, is called a Lexicon Technicum, or a Technical Dic- tionary. Adieu. LETTER XXXVIII. DEAR BOY, Longford, June the 9th, 1740. I write to you now, in the supposition that you continue to deserve my attention, as much as you did when I left London; and that Mr. Maittaire would commend you as much now, as he did the last time he was with me ; for otherwise you know very well, that I should not concern myself about you. Take care, therefore, that, when I come to town, I may not find myself mistaken in the good opinion I entertained of you in my absence. I hope you have got the linnets and bullfinches you so much wanted ; and I recommend the bull- finches to your imitation Bullfinches, you must know, have no natural note of their own, and never sing, unless taught ; but will learn tunes better than any other birds. This they do by attention and memory; and you may observe, that, while they are taught, they listen with great care, and never jump about and kick their heels. Now I really think it would be a great shame for you to be out- done by your own bullfinch. I take it for granted, that, by your late care and attention, you are now perfect in Latin verses ; and that you may at present be called, what Horace de- sired to be called, Romance jidicen Lyra. Your Greek too, I dare say, keeps pace with your Latin ; and you have all your paradigms ad unguem. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 101 You cannot imagine what alterations and improve- ments I expect to find every day, now that you are more than Octennis. And, at this age, non progredi would be regredi, which would be very shameful. Adieu! Do not write to me; for I shall be in no settled place to receive letters, while I am in the country. LETTER XXXIX. DEAR BOY, London, June the 25th, 1740. As I know you love reading, I send you this book for your amusement, and not by way of task or study. It is an Historical, Chronological, and Geo- graphical Dictionary ; in which you may find almost every thing you can desire to know, whether ancient or modern. As Historical, it gives you the history of all remarkable persons and things ; as Chronolo- gical, it tells you the time when those persons lived, and when those things were done; and as Geogra- phical, it describes the situation of countries and cities. For example; would you know who Aris- tides the Just was, you will find there, that he was of Athens ; that his distinguished honesty and in- tegrity acquired him the name of Just; the most glorious appellation a man can have. You will likewise find, that he commanded the Athenian army, at the battle of Plataea, where Mardonius, the Persian General, was defeated, and his army, of three hundred thousand men, utterly destroyed ; and that, for all these virtues, he was banished Athens by the Ostracism. You will then (it may be) be curious to know what the Ostracism is. If you look for it, you will find that the Athenians, being very jealous of their liberties, which they thought were the most in danger from those whose 102 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S virtue and merit made them the most popular (that is, recommended them most to the favour of the people), contrived this Ostracism; by which, if six hundred people gave in the name of any one man, written upon a shell, that person was immediately banished for ten years. As to Chronology, would you know when Charle- main was made Emperor of the West ; look for the article of Charlemagne; and you will find, that, being already master of all Germany, France, and great part of Spain and Italy, he was declared Em- peror, in the year 800. As to the Geographical part, if you would know the situation of any town, or country, that you read of ; as for instance, Persepolis ; you will find where it was situated, by whom founded, and that it was burnt by Alexander the Great, at the instigation of his mistress, Thais, in a drunken riot. In short, you will find a thousand entertaining stories to divert you, when you have leisure from your studies, or your play : for one must always be doing some- thing, and never lavish away so valuable a thing as time; which, if once lost, can never be regained. Adieu. LETTER XL. Phtlippus Chesterfield parvulo suo Philippo Stan- hope, S. P.D. Pergrata mihi fuit epistola tua, quam nuper accepi, eleganter enim scripta erat, et polliceris te summam operam daturum, ut veras laudes merito adipisci possis. Sed, ut plane dicam ; valde suspicor te, in ea scribenda, optimum et eruditissimum adju- torem habuisse ; quo duce et auspice, nec elegantia, ^ec doctrina, nec quicquid prorsus est dignum sa- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 103 piente bonoque, unquam tibi deesse poterit. Ilium ergo ut quam diligenter colas, te etiam atque etiam rogo ; et quo magis eum omni officio, amore, et ob- sequio persequeris, eo magis te me studiosum, et observantem existimabo. Duae septimanae mihi ad has aquas bibendas su- persunt, antequam in urbem revertam; tunc cura, ut te in dies doctiorem inveniam. Animo, atten- tione, majore diligentia opus est. Praemia laboris, et industrial, hinc alteram, si modo te dignum praebsas ; sin aliter, segnitiei pcenas dabis. Vale. TRANSLATION. Philip Chesterfield to his dear little Philip Stanhope. Your last letter afforded me very great satisfaction, both as it was elegantly penned, and because you promise in it, to take great pains, to attain deservedly, true praise. But I must tell you ingenuously, that I suspect, very much, your having had, in composing it, the assistance of a good and able master ; under whose .conduct and instruction it will be your own fault if you do not acquire elegancy of style, learn- ing, and, in short, every thing else, becoming a wise and virtuous person. I earnestly entreat you, there- fore, to imitate, carefully, so good a pattern; and, the more attention and regard you show for him, the more I shall think you love and respect me. I shall continue here a fortnight longer, drinking these waters, before I return to town ; let me then find you sensibly improved in your learning. You must summon greater resolution and diligence. I shall bring you presents from hence, which you shall receive as rewards of your application and in- dustry, provided I find you deserving of them; if otherwise, expect reproof and chastisement for your sloth. Farewell. 104 LOUD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER XLL DEAR BOY, Tunbridge, July the 18th, 1740. After Sparta and Athens,, Thebes and Corinth were the most considerable cities in Greece. Thebes was in Bceotia, a province of Greece, famous for its thick, foggy air, and for the dulness and stupidity of its inhabitants; insomuch that calling a man a Boeotian, was the same as calling him a stupid fel- low : and Horace, speaking of a dull, heavy fellow, says, Bceotum jurares, crasso in aere, natum. However, Thebes made itself very considerable, for a time, under the conduct of Epaminondas, who was one of the greatest and most virtuous characters of all antiquity. Thebes, like all the rest of Greece, fell under the absolute dominion of the Kings of Macedon, Alexander's successors. Thebes was founded by Cadmus, who first brought letters into Greece. CEdipus was King of Thebes ; whose very remarkable story is worth your reading. The city of Corinth sometimes made a figure, in defence of the common liberties of Greece ; but was chiefly considerable upon account of its great trade and commerce ; which enriched it so much, and introduced so much luxury, that, when it was burnt by Mummius, the Roman Consul, the number of golden, silver, brass, and copper statues and vases, that were then melted, made that famous metal, called Corinthian brass, so much esteemed by the Romans. There were, besides, many other little Kingdoms and Republics in Greece, which you will be ac- quainted with, when you enter more particularly into that part of ancient history. But, to inform yourself a little, at present, concerning Thebes and Corinth, turn to the following articles in Moreri : — Thebes, Cadmus, Oedipe, Jocaste, Sphynx, Epami- nondas, Pelopidas, Corinth, Mummius. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 105 LETTER XLIL DEAR BOY, Tunbridge, July the 29th, 1741. Since you are so ready at the measure of Greek and Latin verses, as Mr. Maittaire writes me word you are; he will possibly, before it is very long, try your invention a little, and set you to make some of your own composition; you should therefore begin to consider, not only the measure of the verses you read, but likewise the thoughts of the Poet, and the similes, metaphors, and allusions, which are the ornaments of Poetry, and raise it above prose, and distinguish it from prose, as much as the mea- sure does. This attention to the thoughts and dic- tion of other Poets will suggest both matter, and the manner of expressing it, to you, when you come to invent, yourself. Thoughts are the same in every language, and a good thought in one language is a good one in every other : thus, if you attend to the thoughts and images in French or English poetry, they will be of use to you, when you compose in Latin or Greek. I have met lately with a very pretty copy of English verses, which I here send you to learn by heart ; but first, I will give you the thought in prose, that you may observe how it is expressed, and adorned by poetical diction. The Poet tells his mistress, Florella, that she is so unkind to him, she will not even suffer him to look at her ; that, to avoid her cruelty, he addresses himself to other women, who receive him kindly; but that, notwithstanding this, his heart always re- turns to her, though she uses him so ill ; and then he concludes with this beautiful and apt simile, in which he compares his fate to that of exiles (that is, people who are banished from their own country) who, though they are pitied in whatever country 106 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S they go to, yet long to return to their own, where they are sure to be used ill, and punished. Why will Florella, when I gaze, My ravish'd eyes reprove, And hide from them the only face, They can behold with love 1 To shun her scorn, and ease my care, I seek a nymph more kind, And while I rove from fair to fair, Still gentler usage find. But oh ! how faint is every joy, Where Nature has no part ! New beauties may my eyes employ, But you engage my heart. THE SIMILE. So restless exiles, doom'd to roam, Meet pity every where ; Yet languish for their native home, Though death attends them there. You will observe that these verses have alternate rhymes ; that is, the third line rhymes to the first, and the fourth line to the second ; the first and third lines having four feet each; and the second and fourth having but three feet each. A foot, in Eng- lish verse, is two syllables. To use your ear a little to English verse, and to make you attend to the sense too, I have transposed the words of the following lines; which I would have you put in their proper order, and send me in your next. Life consider cheat a when tis all I Hope the fool'd deceit men yet with favour Kepay will to-morrow trust on think and Falser former day to-morrow's than the Worse lies blest be shall when and we says it Hope new some possess'd cuts off with we what. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 107 LETTER XLIIL DEAR BOY, Tunbridge, August the 14th, 1740. I am very glad to hear from Mr. Maittaire, that you are so ready at scanning both Greek and Latin verses; but I hope you mind the sense of the words, as well as the quantities. The great advantage of knowing many languages consists in understanding the sense of those nations, and authors, who speak and write those languages; but not in being able to repeat the words like a parrot, without knowing their true force and meaning. The Poets require your attention and observation more than the prose authors ; poetry being more out of the common way than prose compositions are. Poets have greater liberties allowed them than prose writers, which is called the Poetical Licence. Horace says, that Poets and Painters have an equal privilege of attempting any thing. Pictoribus atque Poetis, quidlibet audendi, semper fuit cequa potestas. Fiction, that is, invention, is said to be the soul of poetry. For example ; the Poets give life to several inanimate things ; that is, to things that have no life: as for instance; they represent the passions, as Love, Fury, Envy, &c. under human figures ; which figures are allegorical ; that is, represent the qualities and effects of those passions. Thus the poets represent Love as a little boy, called Cupid, because Love is the passion of young people chiefly. He is represented blind likewise ; because Love makes no distinction, and takes away the judgment. He has a bow and arrows, with which he is supposed to wound people, because Love gives pain: and he has a pair of wings to fly with ; because Love is changeable, and apt to fly from one object to another. Fury like- 108 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S wise is represented under the figures of three women, called the three Furies ; Alecto, Megaera, and Tisi- phone. They are described with lighted torches or flambeaux in their hands ; because Rage and Fury- is for setting fire to every thing: they are likewise drawn, with serpents hissing about their heads; because serpents are poisonous and destructive animals. Envy is described as a woman, melan- choly, pale, livid, and pining; because envious people are never pleased, but always repining at other people's happiness: she is supposed to feed upon serpents; because envious people only com- fort themselves with the misfortunes of others. Ovid gives the following description of Envy. Videt intus edentem Vipereas carnes, vitiorum alimenta suorum, Invidiam : visaque oculos avertit, at ilia Surgit humo pigra : semesarumque relinquit Corpora serperitum ; passuque incedit inerti. Utque Deam vidit formaque armisque decoram Ingemuit : vultumque ima ad suspiria duxit. Pallor in ore sedet : macies in corpore toto : Nusquam recta acies : livent rubigine dentes : Pectora felle virent : lingua est suffusa veneno. Risus abest ; nisi quem visi movere dolores. Nec fruitur somno, vigilacibus excita curis : Sed videt ingratos, intabescitque videndo, Successus hominum : carpitque et carpitur una : Suppliciumque suum est. This is a beautiful poetical description of that wretched, mean passion of envy, which I hope you will have too generous a mind ever to be infected with ; but that, on the contrary, you will apply yourself to virtue and learning, in such a manner as to become an object of envy yourself. Adieu ! LETTERS TO HIS SON. ]09 LETTER XLIV. DEAR BOY, Monday. Since, by Mr. Maittaire's care, you learn your Latin and Greek out of the best authors, I wish you would, at the same time that you construe the words, mind the sense and thoughts of those authors ; which will help your invention, when you come to compose yourself, and at the same time form your taste. Taste, in its proper signification, means the taste of the palate in eating or drinking ; but it is metapho- rically used for the judgment one forms of any art or science. For example ; if I say, such a man has a good taste in poetry, I mean that he judges well of poetry, and distinguishes rightly what is good and what is bad ; and finds out equally the beauties and the faults of the composition. Or if I say, that such a man has a good taste in painting, I mean the same thing; which is, that he is a good judge of pictures; and will distinguish not only good ones from bad ones, but very good ones from others not quite so good, but yet good ones. Avoir le gout bon, means the same thing in French : and nothing forms so true a taste, as the reading the ancient authors with attention. — Description is a beautiful part of poetry, and much used by the best Poets ; it is likewise called painting, because it represents things in so lively and strong a manner, that we think we see them as in a picture. Thus Ovid de- scribes the palace of the Sun, or Apollo. Regia Solis erat sublimibus alta columnis, Clara micante auro, flammasque imitante pyropo. Cujus ebur nitidum fastigia summa tenebat : Argenti bifores radiabant lumine valvae, Materiem superabat opus : nam Mulciber illic ^Equora caelarat medias cingentia terras, Terrarumque orbem, caelumque quod imminet orbi. VOL. I. L 110 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Afterwards he describes Phoebus himself, sitting upon his throne : Purpurea velatus veste sedebat In Solio Phoebus, claris lucente smaragdis. A dextra laevaque Dies, et Mensis, et Annus, Saeculaque et positae spatiis aequalibus Horae ; Verque novum stabat, cinctum florente corona, Stabat nuda iEstas, et spicea serta gerebat, Stabat et Autumnus calcatis sordidus uvis, Et glacialis Hyems, canos hirsuta capillos. Observe the invention in this description. As the sun is the great rule by which we measure time ; and as it marks out the years, the months, the days, and the seasons ; so Ovid has represented Phcebus upon his throne, as the principal figure, attended by the years, days, months, and seasons, which he likewise represents as so many persons. This is properly invention, and invention is the soul of poetry. Poets have their name, upon that account, from the Greek word Uoiea, which signifies, to make, or invent. Adieu ! Translate these Latin verses, at your leisure, into English, and send your translation, in a letter, to my house in town. I mean English prose; for I do not expect verse from you yet. LETTER XLV. DEAR BOY, Friday. I mentioned, in my last, description or painting, as one of the shining marks or characteristics of Poetry. The likeness must be strong and lively; and make us almost think that we see the thing before our eyes. Thus the following description of LETTERS TO HIS SON. Ill Hunger, or Famine, in Ovid, is so striking, that one thinks one sees some poor famished wretch. Famem lapidoso vidit in agro, Unguibus et raras vellentem dentibus herbas. Hirtus erat crinis, cava lumina, pallor in ore, Labra incana situ, scabrct rubigine fauces, Dura cutis, per quam spectari viscera possent : Ossa sub incurvis extabant arida lumbis : V entris erat pro ventre locus : pendere putares Pectus, et a spinae tantummodo crate teneri. Observe the propriety and significancy of the epi- thets. Lapidoso is the epithet to agro; because a stony ground produces very little grass. Raras is the epithet to herbas, to mark how few and how scarce the herbs were, that Famine was tearing with her teeth and nails. You will easily rind out the other epithets. I will now give you an excellent piece of painting, or description, in English verse ; it is in the tragedy of Phaedra and Hippolytus. Phaedra was the second wife of the famous Theseus, one of the first Kings of Athens; and Hippolytus was his son by his former wife. Look for the further particulars of their story in your dictionary, under the articles Phedre and Hippolite. So when bright Venus yielded up her charms, The blest Adonis languished in her arms. His idle horn on fragrant myrtles hung ; His arrows scatter y d, and his bow unstrung. Obscure, in coverts, lie his dreaming hounds, And bay the fancied boar with, feeble sounds. For nobler sports he quits the savage fields, And all the Hero to the Lover yields. I have marked the epithets, that you may the better observe them. Venus is called bright, upon account of her beauty : Adonis is called blest, be- cause Venus was in love with him : his horn is said to be idle, because he then laid it by, and made no 112 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S use of it : the myrtles are called fragrant, because the myrtle is a sweet smelling tree ; moreover the myrtle is the particular tree sacred to Venus: scattered arrows, because laid by here and there, carelessly. The bow unstrung: it was the custom to unstring the bow when they did not use it, and it was the stronger for it afterwards. Dreaming hounds: hounds that are used to hunt, often dream they are hunting; as appears by their making the same noise, only not so loud, when they sleep, as they do when they are hunting some wild beast ; therefore, the sounds are called feeble. Savage fields; so called from the roughness of field sports, in comparison to the ten- derness and softness of love. Adonis was extremely handsome, and a great sportsman ; he used to employ his whole time in hunting boars, and other wild beasts. Venus fell in love with him, and used frequently to come down to him : he was at last killed by a wild boar, to the great grief of Venus. Look for Adonis in your dictionary ; for, though you have read his story in Ovid's Metamorphoses, I believe that excellent me- mory of yours wants refreshing. From hence, when a man is extremely handsome, he is called, by meta- phor, an Adonis. Adieu. LETTER XLVL DEAR BOY, Saturday. Your last translations were very well done; and I believe you begin to apply yourself more. This you may depend upon, that the more you apply, the easier you will find your learning, and the sooner you will have done with it. But, as I have often told you before, it is not the words only that you LETTERS TO HIS SON. 1 13 should mind, but the sense and beauties of the authors you read ; which will furnish you with matter, and teach you to think justly upon subjects. For example; if you were to say, in poetry, that it was morning, you would not barely say it was morning; that would not be poetical: but you would represent the morning under some image, or by description ; as thus : Lo ! from the rosy east, her purple doors The Morn unfolds, adorn'd with blushing flowers. The lessened stars draw off and disappear, Whose bright battalions, lastly, Lucifer Brings up, and quits his station in the rear. Observe, that the day always rises in the east ; and therefore it is said, from the rosy east: rosy is tiie epithet to east; because the break of day, or the Aurora, is of a reddish rosy colour. Observe too, that Lucifer is the name of that star that disappears the last in the morning ; for the astronomers have given names to most of the stars. The three last lines, which have the same rhymes, are called a triplet, which is always marked as I have marked it. The original Latin is thus in Ovid : Ecce vigil rutilo patefecit ab ortu Purpureas Aurora fores, et plena rosarum Atria. DifTugiunt stellae, quarum agmina cogit Lucifer, et coeli statione novissimus exit. Here is another way of saying that it is morning, as Virgil expresses it : Et jam prima novo spargebat lumine terras Tithoni croceum linquens Aurora cubile : Jam sole infuso, jam rebus luce retectis. Thus in English verse : And now Aurora, harbinger of day, Rose from the saffron bed where Tithon lay, And sprinkled o'er the world with new-born light : The sun now shining, all things brought to sight. L 2 114 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Look in your dictionary for the articles Aurora and Tithon, where you will find their story. Tithon was the husband of Aurora. Aurora, in poetical language, means the break of clay, or the first part of the morning. Harbinger (by the way) means forerunner, or a person who is sent beforehand, by another, upon a journey, to prepare things for him. The King has several harbingers, that go before him upon the road, to prepare his lodging, and get every thing ready. So Aurora, or the Morning, is called, by a metaphor, the harbinger of Day, because it foreruns the day. I expect very good verses, of your making, by that time you are ten years old ; and then you shall be called Poeta Decennis, which will be a very uncom- mon, and, consequently, a very glorious title. Adieu. LETTER XLVII. DEAR BOY, Wednesday. In my last I sent you two or three poetical descrip- tions of the Morning; I here send you some, of the other parts of the day. The Noon, or Midday, that is twelve o'clock, is thus described by Ovid : Fecerat exiguas jam Sol altissimus umbras. And in another place, Jamque dies rerum medias contraxerat umbras, Et Sol ex aequo, meta distabat utraque : Because the sun, at noon, is exactly in the middle of its course, and, being then just perpendicular over our heads, makes the shadows very short; whereas, when the sun shines on either side of us (as it does mornings and evenings), the shadows are LETTERS TO HIS SON. 115 very long ; which you may observe any sunshiny day that you please. The Evening is described thus, by Ovid : Jam labor exiguus Phoebo restabat : equique Pulsabant pedibus spatium declivis Olympi : Because the course of the sun, being supposed to be of one day, Phoebus (that is the sun) is here said to have little more remaining business to do ; and his horses are represented as going down hill; which points out the evening; the sun, in the evening, seeming to go downwards. In another place he says, Jamque dies exactus erat, tempusque subibat, Quod tu nec tenebras, nec possis dicere lucem : For, in the dusk of the evening, one can neither call it day nor night. Night is described by Virgil in this manner : Nox erat, et terras animalia fusa per omnes ; Alituum, Pecudumque genus, sopor altus habebat. What I mean, by sending and explaining these things to you, is to use you to think and reflect a little yourself ; and not to repeat words only, like a parrot, without minding or knowing the sense and import of them. For example; when you read a description of any thing, compare it with your own observations ; and ask yourself this question, Is this so ? Have I ever observed it before ? And, if you have not observed it, take the first opportunity you can of doing it. For instance; if you have not already observed, that the shadows are long in the morning and the evening, and short at noon, try it yourself, and see whether it is true or not. When you hear of the rosy morn, consider with yourself why it is so called, and whether it ought to be called so or not ; and observe the morning early, to see if it 116 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S is not of a reddish, rosy colour. When you hear of Night's spreading its sable (that is black) wings over the world, consider whether the gradual spreading of the darkness does not extend itself in the sky like black wings. In short, use yourself to think and reflect upon every thing you hear and see : examine every thing, and see whether it is true or not, with- out taking it upon trust. For example; If you should find, in any author, the blue or azure sun, would you not immediately reflect, that could not be just ; for the sun is always red ; and that he who could call it so must be either blind, or a fool? When you read historical facts, think of them within yourself, and compare them with your own notions. For example; when you read of the first Scipio, who, when he conquered Spain, took a beautiful Spanish Princess prisoner, who was soon to have been married to a Prince of that country, and returned her to her lover, not only untouched, but giving her a fortune besides; are you not struck with the virtue and generosity of that action ? And can you help thinking with yourself, how virtuous it was in Scipio, who was a young man, unmarried, and a conqueror, to withstand the temptation of beauty ; and how generous it was to give her a for- tune, to make amends for the misfortunes of the war ? Another reflection too, that naturally occurs upon it, is, how virtuous actions never fail to be rewarded by the commendation and applause of all posterity : for this happened above eighteen hundred years ago; is still remembered with honour ; and will be so as long as letters subsist : not to mention the infinite pleasure Scipio must have felt himself, from such a virtuous and heroic action. I wish you more plea- sure, of that kind, than ever man had. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 117 LETTER XLVIIL DEAR BOY, Bath, October the 14th, 1740. Since I have recommended to you to think upon subjects, and to consider things in their various lights and circumstances, I am persuaded you have made such a progress, that I shall sometimes desire your opinion, upon difficult points, in order to form my own. For instance, though I have, in general, a great veneration for the manners and customs of the ancients, yet I am in some doubt whether the Ostracism of the Athenians was either just or pru- dent ; and should be glad to be determined by your opinion. You know very well, that the Ostracism was the method of banishing those whose distin- guished virtue made them popular, and consequently (as the Athenians thought) dangerous to the public liberty. And, if six hundred citizens of Athens gave in the name of any one Athenian, written upon an oyster-shell (from whence it is called Ostracism) that man was banished Athens for ten years. On one hand, it is certain, that a free people cannot be too careful or jealous of their liberty; and it is cer- tain too, that the love and applause of mankind will always attend a man of eminent and distinguished virtue; and, consequently, they are more likely to give up their liberties to such a one, than to another of less merit. But then, on the other hand, it seems extraordinary to discourage virtue upou any account; since it is only by virtue that any society can flourish, and be considerable. There are many more argu- ments, on each side of this question, which will naturally occur to you ; and when you have consi- dered them well, I desire you will write me your opinion, whether the Ostracism was a right or a 118 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S wrong thing ; and your reasons for being of that opinion. Let nobody help you; but give me ex- actly your own sentiments, and your own reasons, whatever they are. I hope Mr. Pelnote makes you read Rollin with great care and attention, and recapitulate to him whatever you have read that day ; I hope too, that he makes you read aloud, distinctly, and observe the stops. Desire your Mamma to tell him so, from me ; and the same to Mr. Martin : for it is a shame not to read perfectly well. Make my compliments to Mr, Maittaire; and take great care that he gives me a good account of you, at my return to London, or I shall be very angry at you. Adieu. LETTER XLIX. DEAR BOY, Bath, October the 20th, 1740. I have often told you already, that nothing will help your invention more, and teach you to think more justly, than reading, with care and attention, the ancient Greek and Latin authors, especially the Poets ; invention being the soul of poetry ; that is to say, it animates and gives life to poetry, as the soul does to the body. I have often told you too, that Poets take the liberty of personifying inanimate things ; that is, they describe and represent, as per- sons, the passions, the appetites, and many other things that have no figures nor persons belonging to them. For example; they represent Love as a little boy with wings, a bow and arrow, and a quiver. Rage and Fury they represent under the figures of three women, called the three Furies, with serpents hissing about their heads, lighted torches in their LETTERS TO HIS SON. 119 hands, and their faces red and inflamed. The de- scription of Envy I have already sent you, and likewise the description of Hunger and Famine, out of Ovid's Metamorphoses. I now send you, out of the same book, the beautiful description of the House or Dwelling of Rumour, that is, Common Report. You will there find all the particularities of Rumour ; how immediately it spreads itself every where; how it adds falsehoods to truths; how it imposes upon the vulgar ; and how credulity, error, joy, and fear, dwell with it; because credulous peo- ple believe lightly whatever they hear, and that all people in general are inclined to believe what they either wish or fear, much. Pray translate these lines, at your leisure, into English, and send them me. Consider them yourself too, at the same time, and compare them with the observations you must already have made upon Rumour, or common fame. Have you not observed, how quickly a piece of news spreads itself all over the town ? how it is first whispered about, then spoken aloud? how almost every body, that repeats it, adds something to it ? how the vulgar, that is, the ordinary people, believe it immediately ? and how other people give credit to it, according as they wish it true or not? All this you will find painted in the following lines ; which I desire you will weigh well. Hoc enim abs te rogo, oro, postulOyflagito. Jubeo te bene voter e. t Orbe locus medio est inter terrasque, fretumque, Caelestesque plagas, triplicis confinia ^mundi ; Unde quod est usquam, quamvis regionibus absit, Inspicitur ; penetratque cavas vox omnis ad ^aures. t Full in the midst of this created space, Betwixt heav'n, earth, and skies, there stands a place, Confining on all three, with triple bound ; Whence all things, though remote, are view'd around; And thither bring their undulating sound. 120 LORD chesterfield's Fama tenet, summaque domum sibi legit in arce : Innumerosque aditus, ac mille foramina tectis Addidit, et nullis inclusit limina portis. Nocte dieque patent. Tota est ex #aere sonanti. Tota fremit : vocesque refert : iteratque quod audit. Nulla quies intus, nullaque silentia parte ; Nec tamen est clamor, sed parvae murmura vocis, Qualia de pelagi, si quis procul audiat, undis Esse solent : qualemve sonum, cum Jupiter atras Increpuit ^nubes, extrema tonitrua reddunt. Atria turba tenent : veniunt leve ^vulgus, euntque, Mistaque cum veris, passim commenta vagantur Millia rumorum ; confusaque verba volutant. E quibus hi vacuas implent sermonibus ^auras : Hi narrata ferunt alio : mensuraque ficti Crescit. Et auditis aliquid novus adjicit auctor. Illic Credulitas, illic temerarius ^Error, Vanaque ^Laetitia est, consternatique ^Timores, ^Seditioque repens y dubioque auctore Susurri. Ipsa, quid in caelo rerum, pelagoque geratur, Et tellure, videt ; totumque inquirit in orbem. N. B. I have underlined [printed in Italic Cha- racters] the epithets, and marked the substantives they belong to thus^. The palace of loud Fame, her seat of power, Placed on the summit of a lofty tower ; A thousand winding entries, long and wide, Receive of fresh reports a flowing tide. A thousand crannies in the walls are made ; Nor gate, nor bars, exclude the busy trade. 'Tis built of brass, the better to diffuse The spreading sounds, and multiply the news : Where echoes in repeated echoes play, A mart for ever full, and open night and day. Nor silence is within, nor voice express, But a deaf noise of sounds, that never cease. Confused, and chiding, like the hollow roar Of tides, receding from the' insulted shore. Or like the broken thunder heard from far, When Jove at distance drives the rolling war. The courts are fill'd with a tumultuous din Of crowds, or issuing forth, or entering in ; LETTERS TO HIS SON. 121 LETTER L. DEAR BOY, I send you here a few more Latin roots, though I am not sure that you will like my roots so well as those that grow in your garden; however, if you will attend to them, they may save you a great deal of trouble. These few will naturally point out many others to your own observation ; and enable you, by comparison, to find out most derived and compound words, when once you know the original root of them. You are old enough now to make observations upon what you learn; which, if you would be pleased to do, you cannot imagine how much time and trouble it would save you. Remem- ber, you are now very near nine years old ; an age at which all boys ought to know a great deal, but you, particularly, a great deal more, considering the care and pains that have been employed about you ; arid, if you do not answer those expectations, you will lose your character ; which is the most mortify- ing thing that can happen to a generous mind. Every body has ambition, of some kind or other, and is vexed when that ambition is disappointed : A thoroughfare of news : where some devise Things never heard, some mingle truth with lies ; The troubled air with empty sounds they beat, Intent to hear, and eager to repeat. Error sits brooding there, with added train Of vain Credulity, and Joys as vain : Suspicion, with Sedition join'd, are near, And rumours raised, and murmurs mix'd, and panic fear. Fame sits aloft, and sees the subject ground, And seas about, and skies above ; inquiring all around. Garth's Ovid. VOL. I. M 122 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S the difference is, that the ambition of silly people is a silly and mistaken ambition ; and the ambition of people of sense is a right and commendable one. For instance ; the ambition of a silly boy, of your age, would be to have fine clothes, and money to throw away in idle follies ; which, you plainly see, would be no proofs of merit in him, but only of folly in his parents, in dressing him out like a jackanapes, and giving him money to play the fool with. Whereas a boy of good sense places his ambition in excelling other boys of his own age, and even older, in virtue and knowledge. His glory is in being known always to speak the truth, in showing good-nature and compassion, in learning quicker, and applying himself more than other boys. These are real proofs of merit in him, and consequently proper objects of ambition; and will acquire him a solid reputation and character. This holds true in men, as well as in boys : the ambition of a silly fellow, will be to have a fine equipage, a fine house, and fine clothes ; things which any body, that has as much money, may have as well as he ; for they are all to be bought : but the ambition of a man of sense and honour is, to be distinguished by a character and reputation of knowledge, truth, and virtue ; things which are not to be bought, and that can only be acquired by a good head and a good heart. Such was the ambition of the Lacedaemo- nians and the Romans, when they made the greatest figure; and such, I hope, yours will always be. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 123 LETTER LI. You know so much more, and learn so much better, than any boy of your age, that you see I do not treat you like a boy, but write to you upon subjects fit for men to think and consider of. When I send you examples of the virtues of the ancients, it is not only to inform you of those pieces of History, but to animate and excite you to follow those examples. You there see the advantages of virtue; how it is sure (sooner or later) to be rewarded, and with what praises and encomiums the virtuous actions of the great men of antiquity have been perpetuated, and transmitted down to us. Julius Caesar, though a tyrant, and guilty of that great crime of enslaving his country, had, however, some virtues; and was distinguished for his clemency and humanity; of which there is this remarkable instance. — Marcellus, a man of consideration in Rome, had taken part with Pompey, in the civil war between him and Caesar, and had even acted with zeal and acrimony against Caesar. However, after Caesar had conquered Pom- pey, and was returned to Rome victorious, the Senate interceded with him in favour of Marcellus ; whom he not only pardoned, but took into his friendship. Cicero made an oration, on purpose to compliment Caesar upon this act of good-nature and generosity ; in which, among many other things, he tells him that he looks upon his pardoning Marcel- lus as a greater action than all his victories: his words in Latin are these — Domuisti gentes immani- tate barbaras, multitudine innumerabiles, locis infinitas, omni copiarum genere abundantes : sed tamen ea vicisti, a uce et naturam et conditionem ut vinci possent, habe- bant. Nulla est enim tanta vis, tanta copia, quce non 124 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S ferro ac viribus debilitari frangiqne possit. Verum animum vincere ; iracundiam cohibere ; victoriam tem- per are ; adver sarium nobilitate, ingenio, vertute prce- Btantem non modd extollere jacentem, Bed etiam ampli- ficare ejus pristinam dignitatem : lime qui faciat, non ego eum cum summis viris comparo, sed simillimum Deo judico. It is certain that humanity is the particular cha- racteristic of a great mind ; little, vicious minds are full of anger and revenge, and are incapable of feeling the exalted pleasure of forgiving their ene- mies, and of bestowing marks of favour and gene- rosity upon those of whom they have gotten the better. Adieu ! I have underlined [printed in Italics] those words that I think you do not understand, to put you in mind to ask the meaning of them. LETTER LII. MON CHER ENFANT, J eudi S( > ir - Vous lisez a present la Nouvelle Historique de Don Carlos, par PAbbe de St Real : elle est joliment ecrite, et le fond de V histoire en est veritable. I/Abbe Pa seulement brode un peu pour lui donner Pair de Nouvelle. A propos, je doute si vous savez ce que e'est que Nouvelle. C'est une petite histoire galante, ou il entre beaucoup d' amour, et qui ne fait qu'un ou deux petits volumes. II faut qu'il y ait une intrigue, que les deux amans trouvent bien des difficultes et des obstacles qui s'opposent a Paccom- plissement de leurs vceux: mais qu'a la fin ils les surmontent, et que le denoument ou la catastrophe, les laissent tous heureux. Une Nouvelle est un LETTERS TO HIS SON. 125 espece de Roman en raccourci r car un Roman est ordinairement de douze volumes, rempli de fadaises amoureuses, et d'aventures incroyables. Le sujet d'un Roman est quelquefois une histoire faite a plaisir, c'est a dire toute inventee ; et quelquefois une histoire veritable ; mais ordinairement si changee et travestie, qu'on ne la reconnoit plus. Par exemple, il y a le Grand Cyrus, Clelie, Cleopatre, trois Romans celebres, ou il y entre un peu d'histoire veritable, mais si melee de faussetes et de folies amoureuses, qu'ils servent plus a embrouiller et a corrompre Pesprit, qu'a le former ou aPinstruire. On y voit les plus grands Heros de Pantiquite faire les amoureux transis, et clebiter des fades tendresses, au fond d'un bois, a leur belle inhumaine, qui leur repond sur le meme ton : enfin c'est une lecture tres-frivole, que celle des Romans, et Pon y perd tout le terns qu'on y donne. Les vieux Romans qu'on ecrivoit il y a cent ou deux cents ans, comme Amadis de Gaule, Roland le Furieux, et autres, etoient farcis d'en- chantemens, de magiciens, de geans, et de ces sortes de sottes impossibilites ; au lieu que les Romans plus modernes, se tiennent au possible, mais pas au vraisemblable. Et je croirois tout autant que le grand Brutus, qui chassa les Tarquins de Rome, fut enferme par quelque Magicien dans un chateau enchante ; que je croirois, qu'il faisoit de sots vers aupres de la belle Clelie : comme on le represente dans le Roman de ce nom. Au reste, Don Carlos, dont vous lisez la Nouvelle, etoit fils de Philippe second Roi d'Espagne, fils de PEmpereur Chaiiequint ou Charles cinquieme. Ce Charlequint etoit en meme terns Empereur d'Alle- magne et Roi d'Espagne ; il avoit aussi toute la Flandre et la plus grande partie de PItalie. II regna long terns ; mais deux ou trois ans avant que de mourir, il abdiqua la Royaute, et se retira, comme particulier, au convent de St. Just, en Espagne: m 2 126 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S ceclant PEmpire a son frere Ferdinand, et PEspagne, PAmerique, la Flandre et Pltalie, a son fils Philippe second ; qui ne lui ressembloit gueres : car il etoit fier et cruel, meme envers son fils Don Carlos qu'il fit mourir. Don est un titre qu'on donne en Espagne a tout honnete homme ; comme Monsieur en Francois, et Signor en Italien. Par exemple ; si vous etiez en Espagne on vous appelleroit Bon Philippe. Adieu. TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Thursday night. You are now reading the Historical Novel of Don Carlos, written by the Abbe of St. Real. The foun- dation of it is true ; the Abbe has only embellished a little, in order to give it the turn of a Novel ; and it is prettily written. A propos ; I am in doubt whether you know what a Novel is: it is a little gallant history, which must contain a great deal of love, and not exceed one or two small volumes. The subject must be a love affair; the lovers are to meet with many difficulties and obstacles, to oppose the accomplishment of their wishes, but at last over- come them all ; and the conclusion or catastrophe must leave them happy. A Novel is a kind of ab- breviation of a Romance ; for a Romance generally consists of twelve volumes, all filled with insipid love nonsense, and most incredible adventures. The subject of a Romance is sometimes a story entirely fictitious, that is to say, quite invented ; at other times a true story, but generally so changed and altered, that one cannot know it. For example ; in Grand Cyrus, Clelia, and Cleopatra, three celebrated Romances, there is some true history ; but so blended with falsities, and silly love adventures, that they confuse and corrupt the mind, instead of forming LETTERS TO HIS SON. 127 and instructing it. The greatest Heroes of antiquity are there represented in woods and forests, whining insipid love tales to their inhuman fair one; who answers them in the same style. In short, the reading of Romances is a most frivolous occupation, and time merely thrown away. The old Romances, written two or three hundred years ago, such as Amadis of Gaul, Orlando the Furious, and others, were stuffed with enchantments, magicians, giants, and such sort of impossibilities ; whereas the more modern Romances keep within the bounds of pos- sibility, but not of probability. For I would just as soon believe, that the great Brutus, who expelled the Tarquins from Rome, was shut up by some magician in an enchanted castle, as imagine that he was making silly verses for the beautiful Clelia, as he is represented in the Romance of that name. Don Carlos, whose name is given to the Novel you are now reading, was son to Philip II. King of Spain, who was himself son of the Emperor Charle- quint, or Charles V. This Charles V. was, at the same time, Emperor of Germany and King of Spain ; he was, besides, master of all Flanders, and the greatest part of Italy. He reigned long ; but, two or three years before his death, he abdicated the crown, and retired, as a private man, to the convent of St Just, in Spain. He ceded the Empire to his brother Ferdinand ; and Spain, America, Flanders, and Italy to his son Philip II ; who was very unlike him, for he was proud and cruel, even towards his son, Don Carlos, whom he put to death. Don is a title, which is given, in Spain, to every gentleman; as Monsieur in France, and Signor in Italy. For instance ; if you were in Spain, you would be called Don Philip. Adieu. 128 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER Lin. DEAR BOY, Thursday. You will seldom hear from me, without an admoni- tion to think. All you learn, and all you can read, will be of little use, if you do not think and reason upon it yourself. One reads to know other people's thoughts ; but if we take them upon trust, without examining and comparing them with our own, it is really living upon other people's scraps, or retailing other people's goods. To know the thoughts of others is of use, because it suggests thoughts to one's self, and helps one to form a judgment; but to repeat other people's thoughts, without considering whether they are right or wrong, is the talent only of a parrot, or at most a player. It Night were given you as a subject to compose upon, you would do very well to look what the best authors have said upon it, in order to help your own invention ; but then you must think of it afterwards yourself, and express it in your own manner, or else you would be at best but a plagiary. A plagiary is a man who steals other people's thoughts, and puts them off for his own. You would find, for example, the following account of Night in Virgil : Nox erat, et placidum carpebant fessa soporem Corpora per terras ; sylvaeque et saeva quierant iEquora : cum medio volvuntur sidera lapsu ; Cum tacet omnis ager, pecudes pictaeque volucres, Quaeque lacus late liquidos, quaeque aspera dumis Rura tenent ; somno positae sub nocte silenti Lenibant curas, et corda oblita laborum. Here you see the effects of Night ; that it brings rest to men, when they are wearied with the labours LETTERS TO HIS SON. 129 of the day ; that the stars move in their regular course ; that flocks and birds repose themselves, and enjoy the quiet of the Night. This, upon ex- amination, you would find to be all true ; but then, upon consideration, too, you would find, that it is not all that is to be said upon Night: and many more qualities and effects of Night would occur to you. As for instance ; though Night is in general the time of quiet and repose, yet it is often the time, too, for the commission and security of crimes ; such as robberies, murders, and violations; which generally seek the advantage of darkness, as favour- able for the escapes of the guilty. Night, too, though it brings rest and refreshment to the innocent and virtuous, brings disquiet and horror to the guilty. The consciousness of their crimes torments them, and denies them sleep and quiet. You might, from these reflections, consider what would be the proper epithets to give to Night: as for example; if you were to represent Night in its most pleasing shape, as procuring quiet and refreshment from labour and toil, you might call it the friendly Night, the silent Night, the welcome Night, the peaceful Night : but if, on the contrary, you were to represent it as inviting to the commission of crimes, you would call it, the guilty Night, the conscious Night, the horrid Night; with many other epithets, that carry along with them the idea of horror and guilt : for an epithet, to be proper, must always be adapted (that is, suited) to the circumstances of the person or thing to which it is given. Thus Virgil, who generally gives Eneas the epithet of pious, because of his piety to the Gods, and his duty to his father, calls him Dux Eneas, where he represents him making love to Dido, as a proper epithet for him in that situation; because making love becomes a General much better than a man of singular piety. 130 LORD chesterfield's Lay aside, for a few minutes, the thoughts of play, and think of this seriously. Amoto quasramus seria ludo. Adieu. You may come to me on Saturday morning, be- fore you go to Mr. Maittaire. LETTER LIV. DEAR BOY, Sunday. I shall not soon leave the subject of invention and thinking, which I would have you apply to, as much as your age and giddiness will permit. Use will make it every day easier to you, and age and obser- vation will improve it. Virtue is a subject that deserves your and every man's attention ; and sup- pose I were to bid you make some verses, or give me your thoughts in prose, upon the subject of Virtue, how would you go about it ? Why you would first consider what Virtue is, and then what are the effects and marks of it, both with regard to others and one's self. You would find, then, that Virtue consists in doing good, and in speaking truth ; and that the effects of it are advantageous to all mankind, and to one's self in particular. Virtue makes us pity and relieve the misfortunes of mankind; it makes us promote justice and good order in society: and, in general, contributes to whatever tends to the real good of mankind. To ourselves it gives an inward comfort and satisfaction, which nothing else can do, and which nothing can rob us of. All other advantages depend upon others, as much as upon ourselves. Riches, power, and greatness may be LETTERS TO HIS SON. 131 taken away from us, by the violence and injustice of others, or by inevitable accidents ; but Virtue depends only upon ourselves, and nobody can take it away from us. Sickness may deprive us of all the plea- sures of the body : but it cannot deprive us of our Virtue, nor of the satisfaction which we feel from it. A virtuous man, under all the misfortunes of life, still finds an inward comfort and satisfaction, which makes him happier than any wicked man can be, with all the other advantages of life. If a man has acquired great power and riches by falsehood, injus- tice, and oppression, he cannot enjoy them, because his conscience will torment him and constantly re- proach him with the means by which he got them. The stings of his conscience will not even let him sleep quietly ; but he will dream of his crimes : and in the daytime, when alone, and when he has time to think he will be uneasy and melancholy. He is afraid of every thing; for, as he knows mankind must hate him, he has reason to think they will hurt him, if they can. Whereas, if a virtuous man be ever so poor, or unfortunate in the world, still his virtue is its own reward, and will comfort him under all afflictions. The quiet and satisfaction of his conscience make him cheerful by day, and sleep sound of nights : he can be alone with pleasure, and is not afraid of his own thoughts. Besides this, he is universally esteemed and respected ; for even the most wicked people themselves, cannot help admir- ing and respecting Virtue in others. All these, and many other advantages, you would ascribe to Virtue. if you were to compose upon that subject. A Poet says, Ipsa quidem Virtus, sibimet pulcherrima merces. And Claudian has the following lines upon that subject: 132 lord chesterfield's Ipsa quidem Virtus pretium sibi, solaque latd Fortunae secura nitet : nec fascibus ullis Erigitur ; plausuque petit clarescere vulgi. Ml opis externa? cupiens, nil indiga laudis : Divitiis animosa suis, immotaque cunctis Casibus, ex alta mortalia despicit arce. Adieu. LETTER LV. DEAR BOY, Wednesday. You behaved yourself so well at Mr. Boden's, last Sunday, that you justly deserve commendation: besides, you encourage me to give you some rules of politeness and good breeding, being persuaded that you will observe them. Know then, that as learning, honour, and virtue, are absolutely necessary to gain you the esteem and admiration of mankind ; politeness and good breeding are equally necessary, to make you welcome and agreeable in conversation, and common life. Great talents, such as honour, virtue, learning, and parts, are above the generality of the world ; who neither possess them themselves, nor judge of them rightly in others: but all people are judges of the lesser talents, such as civility, affa- bility, and an obliging, agreeable address and man- ner; because they feel the good effects of them, as making society easy and pleasing. Good sense must, in many cases, determine good breeding ; because the same thing that would be civil at one time, and to one person, may be quite otherwise at another time, and to another person ; but there are some general rules of good breeding, that hold always true, and in all cases. As for example ; it is always extremely rude, to answer only Yes, or No, to any body, without adding, Sir, my Lord, or Madam, according to the quality of the person you speak to ; LETTERS TO HIS SON. 133 as, in French, you must always say Monsieur, Milord, Madame, and Mademoiselle. I suppose you know that every married woman, is, in French, Madame, and every unmarried one is Mademoiselle. It is likewise extremely rude, not to give the proper attention, and a civil answer, when people speak to you ; or to go away, or be doing something else, while they are speaking to you ; for that convinces them that you despise them, and do not think it worth your while to hear or answer what they say. I dare say I need not tell you how rude it is, to take the best place in a room, or to seize immediately upon what you like at table, without offering first to help others ; as if. you considered nobody but your- self. On the contrary, you should always endeavour to procure all the conveniences you can to the peo- ple you are with. Besides being civil, which is absolutely necessary, the perfection of good breeding is, to be civil with ease, and in a gentlemanlike man- ner. For this, you should observe the French people ; who excel in it, and whose politeness seems as easy and natural as any other part of their conversation. Whereas the English are often awkward in their civilities, and, when they mean to be civil, are too much ashamed to get it out. But, pray, do you remember never to be ashamed of doing what is right : you would have a great deal of reason to be ashamed, if you were not civil ; but what reason can you have to be ashamed of being civil ? And why not say a civil and an obliging thing, as easily and as naturally, as you would ask what o'clock it is ? This kind of bashfulness, which is justly called, by the French, mauvaise honte, is the distinguishing character of an English booby; who is frightened out of his wits, when people of fashion speak to him ; and when he is to answer them, blushes, stammers, can hardly get out what he would say, and becomes really ridiculous, from a groundless fear of being VOL. I. N J34 LORD chesterfield's laughed at: whereas a real well bred man would speak to all the Kings in the world, with as little concern, and as much ease, as he would speak to you. Remember, then, that to be civil, and to be civil with ease (which is properly called good breeding) is the only way to be beloved, and well received in company ; that to be ill bred, and rude, is intoler- able, and the way to be kicked out of company ; and that to be bashful is to be ridiculous. As I am sure you will mind and practise all this, I expect that when you are novennis, you will not only be the best scholar, but the best bred boy in England of your age. Adieu. LETTER LVI. Philippus Chesterfield Philippo Stanhope, adhuc pue- rulo, sed eras e pueritid egressuro. S. D. Hanc ultimam ad te, uti ad puerum, epistolam mitto ; eras enim, ni fallor, fies novennis, ita, ut abhinc mihi tecum, quasi cum adolescentulo agendum erit. Alia enim nunc ratio vitae, et studiorum tibi suscipienda est ; levitas et nugae pueriles relinquendae sunt, ani- musque ad seriaintendendus est. Quae enim puerum decebant, adolescentulo dedecori essent. Quare omnibus viribus tibi enitendum est, ut te alium praebeas, et ut eruditione, moribus, et urbanitate, aliisque animi dotibus, adolescentulos ejusdem aeta- tis, aeque superes, ac jam puerulus puerulos tui temporis superasti. Tecum obsecro reputa, quantum tibi erubescendum foret, si te nunc vinci patiaris, ab iis, quos adhuc vicisti. Exempli gratia: si adole- scentulus Onslow scholae Westmonasteriensis nunc alumnus, olim sodalis tuus, et novennis aeque ac tu, si ille, inquam, locum tibi superiorem in schola LETTERS TO HIS SON. 135 merito obtineret, quid ageres, rogo ? Quo tenderes ? illinc enim discedendnm foret, ubi cum dignitate manere non posses ? Quare si tibi fama apud crimes, et gratia apud me, curae est, fac omni studio et labore, ut adolescentulomm eruditorum facile prin- ceps merito dici possis. Sic te servet Pater Omni- potens, tibi detque ut omnibus ornatus excellas rebus. Addam etiam, quod Horatius Tibullo suo optat, ut, Gratia, fama, valetudo contingat abunde ; Et mundus victus, non deficiente crumena ! Kalend. Maii, 1741. Vale. TRANSLATION. Philip Chesterfield to Philip Stanhope, yet a little Boy ; but to-morrow going out of Childhood. This is the last letter I shall write to you as to a little boy ; for, to-morrow, if I am not mistaken, you will attain your ninth year ; so that for the future, I shall treat you as a youth. You must now com- mence a different course of life, a different course of studies. No more levity: childish toys and play- things must be thrown aside, and your mind directed to serious objects. What was not unbecoming of a child would be disgraceful to a youth. Wherefore, endeavour, with all your might, to show a suitable change ; and, by learning, good manners, politeness, and other accomplishments, to surpass those youths of your own age, whom hitherto you have surpassed when boys. Consider, I entreat you, how shameful it would be for you, should you let them get the better of you now. For instance ; should Onslow, now a Westminster scholar, lately your companion, and a youth of nine years old, as you are ; should he, I say, deservedly obtain a place in school above 136 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S you, what would you do ? where would you run to hide yourself? You would certainly be glad to quit a place where you could not remain with honour. If, therefore, you have any regard for your own reputation, and a desire to please me, see that, by unremitting- attention and labour, you may, with justice, be styled the head of your class. So may the Almighty preserve you, and bestow upon you his choicest blessings! I shall add what Horace wishes for his Tibullus : Gratia, fama, valetudo contingat abunde ; Et mundus victus, non deficiente crumena ! Kalends of May, 1741. LETTER LVIL DEAR BOY, Brussels, May the f°th, 1741. I believe we are yet well enough together for you to be glad to hear of my safe arrival on this side of the water, which I crosbed in four hours time from Dover to Calais. By the way, Calais was the last town that the English kept in France, after it was conquered by Henry V ; and it was yielded up to France in the reign of the popish Queen Mary, daughter to Henry VIII. From Calais I went to Dunkirk, which belonged formerly to the Spaniards, and was taken by Oliver Cromwell ; but afterwards shame- fully sold to France, by King Charles II. From Dunkirk I went to Lisle, which is a very great, rich, and strong town, belonging to France, and the chief town of French Flanders. From Lisle I came to Ghent, which is the capital of that part of Flanders that belongs to the Queen of Hungary, as heiress of the house of Austria. It is a very large town, but neither rich nor strong. The Emperor Charles V. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 137 was born there, and his statue is upon a pillar in the middle of a great square. From Lisle, I came here to Brussels, which is the chief town of Brabant, and a very fine one. Here the best camlets are made, and most of the fine laces that you see worn in England. You may follow me through this journey upon your map ; till you take it, some time hence, in reality. I expect you to make prodigious improvements in your learning, by the time I see you again ; for now, that you are past nine years old, you have no time to lose ; and I wait with impatience for a good account of you from Mr. Maittaire : I dare not buy any thing for you till then, for fear I should be obliged to keep it myself. But if I should have a very good account, there shall be very good rewards brought over. Adieu ! Make my compliments to your Mamma ; and, when you write to me, send your letters to my house in town. LETTER LVIII. MON CHER ENFANT, A Aix-la-Chapelle, 8 Juki, N. S. Me voici a Aix-la-Chapelle clepuis quatre jours, d'ou je prends la liberte devous assurer de mes respects; ne doutant pas que vous n'ayez la bonte de me par- donner si je vous importune trop sou vent par mes lettres. Je sais combien votre terns est precieux, et que vous P employ ez si utilement que je me ferois conscience d'interrompre le cours de vos etudes, que vous poursuivez, sans doute, avec tant de succes et d' attention. Mais raillerie a part, j'espere que vous apprenez comme il faut, et que Monsieur Maittaire est tres-content de vous, car autrement je vous assure que je serai tres-m eContent. n 2 138 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S A propos d'apprendre ; je vous dirai, que j'ai vu a Bruxelles un petit garcon a peu pres de votre age, le fils du Comte de P Annoy, qui savoit le Latin parfaitement bien, jouoit la comedie, et declamoit la tragedie Francoise dans la derniere perfection. Mais c'est qu'il s'appliquoit, et retenoit ce qu'il avoit une fois appris. De plus il etoit tres-poli ; et dans une compagnie nombreuse, qu'il ne connoissoit pas, il n'etoit point du tout deconcerte, mais parloit et repondoit a chacun, avec manieres et aisance. Cette ville ici est assez grande, mais assez mau- vaise, elle s'appelle en Latin Aquisgranum, c'est la premiere ville Imperiale et libre de tout PEmpire, c'est-a-dire qu'elle est governee par ses propres Ma- gistrats, qu'elle choisit elle-meme, et qu'elle a ses droits auxquels TEmpereur ne peut pas donner at- teinte. Charlemagne y fut couronne Empereur Pan 800 ; et Ton montre encore ici, dans Peglise catlie- drale, la couronne dont il fut couronne. Elle n'est d'ailleurs fameuse que par ses eaux minerales, qui y attirent beaucoup de monde : elles sont fort chaudes et fort degoutantes, sentant les oeufs pourris. Les villes Imperiales ont voix a la Diete de P Em- pire, qui se tient a Ratisbonne, c'est-a-dire a PAssem- blee de PEmpire : c'est la ou les Electeurs, les Princes, et les villes Imperiales envoient leurs De- putes pour regler les affaires de PEmpire, conjointe- ment avec PEmpereur ; comme notre Parlement fait en Angleterre. De sorte que vous voyez, que PEm- pire d'Allemagne est un Etat libre, dans lequel aucune loi ne peut etre faite sans le consentement de PEmpereur, des Electeurs, des Princes Souve- rains, et des villes Imperiales. II est bon que vous sachiez les differentes formes de gouvernement des differens pays de PEurope; et quand vous lisez leurs histoires, faites y une attention particuliere. Adieu pour cette fois. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 139 TRANSLATION. MY DEAR CHILD, Aix-la-Chapelle, June the 8th, N. S. It is now four days since I arrived here at Aix-la- Chapelle; from whence I take the liberty of assuring you of my respects ; not doubting but you will be so good to forgive me, if I importune you too often with my letters. I know your time is valuable ; and am sensible that it would be pity to interrupt the course of your studies, which I do not question but you pursue with great success and attention. How- ever, setting aside all raillery, I hope you learn as you ought ; and that Mr. Mai tt aire is satisfied ; otherwise, I can assure you, that I shall be very much dissatisfied. A pr.opos of learning ; I must tell you, that I have seen at Brussels, a little boy, of about your age ; he is son to Comte de P Annoy : he knows Latin per- fectly ; he plays in comedy ; and declaims in French tragedy most exquisitely well: but this is because he applies, and retains whatever he has once learnt. Besides all this, he is very polite ; and, in the midst of a numerous company, whom he did hot know, he was not in the least disconcerted; but spoke, and answered each person, with good manners, and with ease. This town is large, but rather ugly ; it is called in Latin Aquisgranum. It is the first Imperial and free city of the Empire ; and as such has the privilege of choosing its own Magistrates ; is governed by them ; and is in possession of other rights, that cannot be infringed by the Emperor. In the year 800 Charle- magne was here crowned Emperor; and the crown used in that ceremony is still shown in the cathedral of this place. It is not famous for any thing but its mineral waters ; which occasion a great resort of 140 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S people : they are very heating, and disagreeable to the taste, having the savour of rotten eggs. The Imperial towns have a voice at the Diet of the Empire, that is held at Ratisbon ; which is the Assembly of the Empire: thither the Electors, Princes, and Imperial towns, send their Deputies, to settle the affairs of the Empire, jointly with the Emperor ; as our Parliament does in England. By this you may see that the Empire of Germany is a free State; in which no law can be made without the consent of the Emperor, the Electors, the Sove- reign Princes, and the Imperial towns. You ought to know the different forms of government of the different countries in Europe ; and, when you read the histories of them, bestow a particular attention upon that circumstance. Adieu, for this time. LETTER LIX. DEAR BOY, Spa, the 25th July, N. S. 1741. I have often told you in my former letters (and it is most certainly true) that the strictest and most scrupulous honour and virtue can alone make you esteemed and valued by mankind; that parts and learning can alone make you admired and celebrated by them ; but that the possession of lesser talents was most absolutely necessary, towards making you liked, beloved, and sought after in private life. Of these lesser talents, good breeding is the principal and most necessary one, not only as it is very im- portant in itself ; but as it adds great lustre to the more solid advantages both of the heart and the mind. I have often touched upon good breeding to you before ; so that this letter shall be upon the next necessary qualification to it, which is a genteel, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 141 easy manner and carriage, wholly free from those odd tricks, ill habits, and awkwardnesses, which even many very worthy and sensible people have in their behaviour. However trifling a genteel manner may sound, it is of very great consequence towards pleasing in private life, especially the women ; which, one time or other, you will think worth pleasing: and I have known many a man, from his awkwardness, give people such a dislike of him at first, that all his merit could not get the better of it afterwards. Whereas a genteel manner prepos- sesses people in your favour, bends them towards you, and makes them wish to like you. Awkward- ness can proceed but from two causes ; either from not having kept good company, or from not having attended to it. As for your keeping good company, I will take care of that ; do you take care to observe their ways and manners, and to form your own upon them. Attention is absolutely necessary for this, as indeed it is for every thing else; and a man without attention is not fit to live in the world. When an awkward fellow first comes into a room, it is highly probable, that his sword gets between his legs, and throws him down, or makes him stum- ble, at least ; when he has recovered this accident, he goes and places himself in the very place of the whole room where he should not ; there he soon lets his hat fall down, and, in taking it up again, throws down his cane ; in recovering his cane, his hat falls a second time ; so that he is a quarter of an hour before he is in order again. If he drinks tea or coffee, he certainly scalds his mouth, and lets either the cup or the saucer fall, and spills the tea or coffee in his breeches. At dinner, his awkwardness distin- guishes itself particularly, as he has more to do : there he holds his knife, fork, and spoon differently from other people ; eats with his knife to the great danger of his mouth, picks his teeth with his fork, 142 LORD chesterfield's and puts his spoon,, which has been in his throat twenty times, into the dishes again. If he is to carve, he can never hit the joint; but, in his vain efforts to cut through the bone, scatters the sauce in every body's face. He generally daubs himself with soup and grease, though his napkin is com- monly stuck through a buttonhole, and tickles his chin. When he drinks, he infallibly coughs in his glass, and besprinkles the company. Besides all this, he has strange tricks and gestures; such as snuffing up his nose, making faces, putting his fingers in his nose, or blowing it and looking after- wards in his handkerchief, so as to make the com- pany sick. His hands are troublesome to him, when he has not something in them, and he does not know where to put them ; but they are in perpetual mo- tion between his bosom and his breeches : he does not wear his clothes, and, in short, does nothing like other people. All this, I own, is not in any degree criminal: but it is highly disagreeable and ridiculous in company, and ought most carefully to be avoided, by whoever desires to please. From this account of what you should not do, you may easily judge what you should do; and a due attention to the manners of people of fashion, and who have seen the world, will make it habitual and familiar to you. There is, likewise, an awkwardness of expression and words, most carefully to be avoided; such as false English, bad pronunciation, old sayings, and common proverbs; which are so many proofs of having kept bad and low company. For example ; if, instead of saying that tastes are different, and that every man has his own peculiar one, you should let off a proverb, and say, That what is one man's meat is another man's poison; or else, Every one as they like, as the good man said when he kissed his cow ; every body would be persuaded that you LETTERS TO HIS SON. 143 had never kept company with any body above foot- men and housemaids. Attention will do all this ; and without attention nothing is to be done : want of attention, which is really want of thought, is either folly or madness. You should not only have attention to every thing, but a quickness of attention, so as to observe, at once, all the people in the room ; their motions, their looks, and their words ; and yet without staring at them, and seeming to be an observer. This quick and unobserved observation is of infinite advantage in life, and is to be acquired with care ; and, on the contrary, what is called absence, which is a thought- lessness, and want of attention about what is doing, makes a man so like either a fool or a madman, that, for my part, I see no real difference. A fool never has thought; a madman has lost it; and an absent man is, for the time, without it. Adieu! Direct your next to me, chez Monsieur Chabert, Banquier, d Paris; and take care that I find the improvements I expect, at my return. LETTER LX. DEAR BOY, Spa, August the 6th, 1741. I am very well pleased with the several perform- ances you serit me, and still more so with Mr. Mait- taire's letter, that accompanied them, in which he gives me a much better account of you than he did in his former. Laudari a laudato vim, was always a commendable ambition ; encourage that ambition, and continue to deserve the praises of the praise- worthy. While you do so, you shall have whatever you will from me ; and when you cease to do so, you shall have nothing. 144 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S I am glad you have begun to compose a little ; it will give you a habit of thinking upon subjects, which is at least as necessary as reading them : therefore pray send me your thoughts upon this subject: — " Non sibi, sed toti genitum se credere mundo." It is a part of Cato's character in Lucan ; who says, that Cato did not think himself born for himself only, but for all mankind. Let me know, then, whether you think that a man is born only for his own pleasure and advantage, or whether he is not obliged to contribute to the good of the society in which he lives, and of all mankind in general. This is certain, that every man receives advantages from society, which he could not have, if he were the only man in the world : therefore, is he not, in some measure, in debt to society ? and is he not obliged to do for others what they do for him ? You may do this in English or Latin, which you please ; for it is the thinking part, and not the language, that I mind in this case. I warned you, in my last, against those disagree- able tricks and awkwardnesses, which many people contract when they are young, by the negligence of their parents, and cannot get quit of them when they are old ; such as odd motions, strange postures, and ungenteel carriage. But there is likewise an awkwardness of the mind, that ought to be, and with care may be avoided : as for instance ; to mis- take or forget names ; to speak of Mr. What-d'ye- call him, or Mrs. Thingum, or How-d'ye-call-her, is excessively awkward and ordinary. To call people by improper titles and appellations is so too ; as my Lord, for Sir; and Sir, for my Lord. To begin a story or narration, when you are not perfect in it, and cannot go through with it ; but are forced, pos- sibly, to say in the middle of it, " I have forgot the LETTERS TO HIS SON. 145 rest," is very unpleasant and bungling. One must be extremely exact, clear, and perspicuous in every thing one says, otherwise, instead of entertaining or informing others, one only tires and puzzles them. The voice and manner of speaking, too, are not to be neglected : some people almost shut their mouths when they speak, and mutter so, that they are not to be understood ; others speak so fast, and sputter, that they are not to be understood neither; some always speak as loud as if they were talking to deaf people ; and others so low that one cannot hear them. All these habits are awkward and disagree- able ; and are to be avoided by attention : they are the distinguishing marks of the ordinary people, who have had no care taken of their education. You cannot imagine how necessary it is to mind all these little things; for I have seen many people, with great talents, ill received, for want of having these talents too ; and others well received, only from their little talents, and who had no great ones. LETTER LXI. DEAR BOY, Since my last, I have changed considerably for the better ; from the deserts of Spa to the pleasures of Paris; which, when you come here, you will be better able to enjoy than I am. It is a most mag- nificent town, not near so big as London, but much finer ; the houses being much larger, and all built of stone. It was not only much enlarged, but embel- lished, by the magnificence of the last King, Lewis XIV. ; and a prodigious number of expensive build- ings, and useful and charitable foundations, such as libraries, hospitals, schools, &c. will long remain VOL. I. O 146 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S the monuments of the magnificence, humanity, and good government of that Prince. The people here are well bred, just as I would have you be ; they are not awkwardly bashful, and ashamed, like the Eng- lish; but easily civil, without ceremony. Though they are very gay and lively, they have attention to every thing, and always mind what they are about. I hope you do so too, now, and that my highest ex- pectations of your improvement will be more than answered, at my return; for I expect to rind you construe both Greek and Latin, and likewise trans- late into those languages pretty readily; and also make verses in them both, with some little invention of your own. All this may be, if you please ; and I am persuaded you would not have me disappointed. As to the genius of Poetry, I own, if nature had not given it you, you cannot have it; for it is a true maxim, that Poeta nascitur, non fit : but then, that is only as to the invention, and imagination, of a Poet; for every body can, by application, make themselves masters of the mechanical part of poetry ; which consists in the numbers, rhymes, measure, and harmony of verse. Ovid was born with such a genius for poetry, that he says, he could not help thinking in verse, whether he would or not; and that very often he spoke verses without intending it. It is much otherwise with oratory; and the maxim there is, Orator Jit : for it is certain, that, by study and application, every man can make himself a pretty good Orator ; eloquence depending upon ob- servation and care. Every man, if he pleases, may choose good words instead of bad ones, may speak properly instead of improperly, may be clear and perspicuous in his recitals, instead of dark and muddy; he may have grace instead of awkward- ness in his motions and gestures; and, in short, may be a very agreeable, instead of a very disagree- able speaker, if he will take care and pains. And LETTERS TO HIS SON. 147 surely it is very well worth while to take a great deal of pains, to excel other men in that particular article, in which they excel beasts. Demosthenes, the celebrated Greek Orator, thought it so absolutely necessary to speak well, that though he naturally stuttered, and had weak lungs, he re- solved, by application and care, to get the better of those disadvantages. Accordingly, he cured his stammering, by putting small pebbles into his mouth; and strengthened his lungs gradually, by using himself every day to speak aloud and dis- tinctly for a considerable time. He likewise went often to the seashore, in stormy weather, when the sea made most noise, and there spoke as loud as he could, in order to use himself to the noise and mur- murs of the popular assemblies of the Athenians, before whom he was to speak. By such care, joined to the constant study of the best authors, he became at last the greatest Orator of his own or any other age or country, though he was born without any one natural talent for it. Adieu ! Copy Demosthenes. LETTER LXII. DEAR BOY, Lyons, September the 1st, N. S. 1741. I have received your Polyglot letter, with which I am very well pleased ; and for which it is reasonable you should be very well rewarded. I am glad to see invention and languages go together ; for the latter signify very little, without the former; but well joined, they are very useful. Language is only to express thoughts ; and if a man is heedless, and does not give himself time to think, his words will be very frivolous and silly. I left Paris five days ago; and, that you may 148 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S trace me, if you please, upon your map, I came here through Dijon, the capital of Burgundy: I shall go from hence to Vienne, the second city in Dauphine (for Grenoble is the capital) and from thence, down the Rhone, to Avignon, the chief town of the Comtat Venaissin, which belongs to the Pope ; . then to Aix, the principal town of Provence ; then to Marseilles ; then to Nimes and Montpellier : and then back again. This is a very great and rich town, situated upon two fine rivers that join here, the Rhone and the Saone. Here is the great manu- facture of gold, silver, and silk stuffs, which supplies almost all Europe. It was famous in the time of the Romans, and is called, in the Latin, Lugaunum. My rambling makes me both a less frequent, and a shorter correspondent, than otherwise I should be ; but I am persuaded, that you are now so sensible how necessary it is to learn, and apply yourself, that you want no spur nor admonition to it. Go on, then, with diligence, to improve in learning, and, above all, in virtue and honour ; and you will make both me and yourself happy. Adieu. LETTER LXIII. DEAR BOY, Marseilles, September the 22d, N. S. 1741. You find this letter dated from Marseilles, a sea- port town in the Mediterranean Sea. It has been famous and considerable, for these two thousand years at least, upon account of its trade and situa- tion. It is called Massilia in Latin, and distin- guished itself, in favour of the Roman liberty, against Julius Caesar. It was here, too, that Milo was ba- nished, for killing Clodius. You will find the par- ticulars of these facts, if you look in your Dictionary \ LETTERS TO HIS SON. 149 for the articles Marseilles and Milon. It is now a very large and fine town, extremely rich from its commerce ; it is built in a semicircle round the port, which is always full of merchant ships of all nations. Here the King of France keeps his galleys, which are very long ships rowed by oars, some of forty, some of fifty, and threescore oars. The people who row them are called galley-slaves; and are, either prisoners taken from the Turks, on the coast of Africa, or criminals, who, for various crimes committed in France, are condemned to row in the galleys, either for life, or for a certain number of years. They are chained by the legs, with great iron chains, two and two together. The prospect, for two leagues round this place, is the most pleasing that can be imagined ; consisting of high hills, covered with vineyards, olive-trees, fig- trees, and almond-trees; with above six thousand little country houses interspersed, which they call here, des Bastides. Within about ten leagues of this place, as you will find in the map, is Toulon, another seaport town upon the Mediterranean, not near so big as this, but much stronger ; there most of the French men of war are built and kept, and likewise most of the naval stores, such as ropes, anchors, sails, masts, and whatever belongs to shipping. If you look into your Geographical Dictionary for Provence, you will find the history of this coun- try, which is worth your reading; and, when you are looking in your Dictionary, look for Dauphine too, which is the next province to this; and there you will find when Dauphine was united to the Crown of France, upon condition that the King of France's eldest son should be called le Dauphin. You should, in truth, omit no one opportunity of informing yourself of Modern History and Geo- graphy; which are the common subjects of all con- o'2 150 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S versation, and, consequently, it is a shame to be ignorant of them. Since you have begun composition, I send you here another subject to compose a few lines upon : " Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpa." Whoever observes that rule, will always be very happy : may you do it ! Adieu. LETTER LXIV. LA FRANCE. La France est, a tout prendre, le plus beau pays de PEurope ; car il est tres-grand, tres-riche, et tres-fer- tile ; le climat est admirable, et il n'y fait jamais trop chaud, comme en Italie, et en Espagne ; ni trop froid, comme en Suede et en Dannemarc. Ce Royaume est borne au Nord par la mer, qui s'appelle la Manche; au Sud par la mer Mediterranee. La France n'est separee de PItalie que par les Alpes, qui sont de grandes montagnes couvertes de neige, la plus grande partie de Pannee ; et les monts Py- renees, qui sont encore de grandes montagnes, la separent de PEspagne. Elle est partagee en douze Gouvernemens ou Provinces, qui sont: — La Picardie, La Normandie, LTsle de France, La Champagne, La Bretagne, L'Orleannois, La Bourgogne, Le Ly- onnois, La Guienne, ou la Gascogne, Le Languedoc, Le Dauphine, La Provence. Les Francois en general ont beaucoup d'esprit, et sont tres-agreables, parce qu'ils ont en meme terns de la vivacite jointe a beaucoup de politesse. A la verite ils sont quelquefois un peu etourdis, mais c'est une etourderie brillante : ils sont aussi tres- braves. Le gouvernement de la France est une LETTERS TO HIS SON. 151 Monarchie absolue ou despotique ; c'est-a-clire, que le Roi y fait tout ce qu'il veut, de sorte que le peuple est esclave. Priez votre Maman de vous montrer ces douze provinces sur la carte, et nous parlerons une autre fois des villes de la France, qu'elle vous montrera apres. LA PICARDIE. La Picardie est la province la plus septentrionale de la France ; c'est un pays ouvert, qui ne produit presque que des bleds. Sa capitale est Amiens. II y a encore Abbeville, ville considerable, a cause de la manufacture de draps, qui y est etablie: et Calais, assez bonne ville et port de mer. Quand on va d'ici en France, c'est la ou Ton debarque. LA NORMAND1E. La Normandie est jointe a la Picardie; ses plus grandes villes sont Rouen et Caen. II y croit une infinite de pommes, dont ils font du cidre. Car pour du vin, on n'y en fait gueres, non plus qu'en Picardie: parce qu'etant trop au Nord, les raisins ne deviennent pas assez murs. Les Normans sont fameux pour les proces, et la chicane, ils ne repon- dent jamais directement a ce qu'on leur demande; de sorte qu'il est passe en proverbe, quand un liomme ne repond pas directement, de dire qu'il repond en Normand. L'ISLE DE FRANCE. Paris, la capitale de tout le Royaume, est dans PIsle de France ; elle est situee sur la Seine, petite riviere, et meme bourbeuse. C'est une grande ville, mais pas a beaucoup pres si grande que Londres. 152 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LA CHAMPAGNE. Rheims est la principale ville de la Champagne, et c'est dans cette ville que les Rois de France sont couronnes. Cette province fournit le meilleur vin du Royaume ; le vin de Champagne. LA BRETAGNE. La Bretagne est partagee en haute et basse. Dans la haute se trouve la ville de Nantes, ou l'on fait la meilleure eau-de-vie ; et la ville de St. Malo, qui est un bon port de mer. Dans la basse Bretagne, on parle un langage qui ressemble plus a notre Gallois qu'au Francois. l'orleannois. Il y a dans POrleannois plusieurs grandes et belles villes. Orleans, fameuse, a cause de Jeanne d'Arc qu'on appelloit la Pucelle d' Orleans, et qui chassa les Anglois de la France. II y a encore la ville de Blois, dont la situation est charmante, et ou l'on parle le plus pur Francois. II y a aussi la ville de Tours, ou se trouve une manufacture de taffetas epais, appelles Gros de Tours, la bourgogne. Dijon est la ville capitale de cette province. Le vin de Bourgogne est un des meilleurs vins de France. LE lyonnois. Lyon en est la capitale, c'est une tres-grande et belle ville; elle est aussi tres-riche, a cause de la manufac- ture d'etoffes de soie, d'or, et d'argent qui y est LETTERS TO HIS SON. 153 etablie, et qui en fournit presque toute PEurope. Votre belle veste
CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER CXXIV. DEAR BOY, Cheltenham, July the 6th, O. S. 1748. Your school-fellow, Lord Pulteney, set out last week for Holland, and will, I believe, be at Leipsig soon after this letter : you will take care to be ex- tremely civil to him, and to do him any service that you can, while you stay there ; let him know that I wrote to you to do so. As being older, he should know more than you ; in that case, take pains to get up to him ; but if he does not, take care not to let him feel his inferiority. He will find it out of him- self, without your endeavours ; and that cannot be helped : but nothing is more insulting, more morti- fying, and less forgiven, than avowedly to take pains to make a man feel a mortifying inferiority in know- ledge, rank, fortune, &c. In the two last articles, it is unj ust, they not being in his power ; and, in the first, it is both ill bred and ill natured. Good breed- ing, and good nature, do incline us rather to help and raise people up to ourselves, than to mortify and depress them : and, in truth, our own private interest concurs in it, as it is making ourselves so many friends, instead of so many enemies. The constant practice of what the French call les Attentions is a most necessary ingredient in the art of pleasing; they flatter the self-love of those to whom they are shown ; they engage, they captivate, more than things of much greater importance. The duties of social life every man is obliged to discharge; but these Attentions are voluntary acts, the free will offerings of good breeding and good nature ; they are received, remembered, and returned as such. Women, par- ticularly, have a right to them ; and any omission, in that respect, is downright ill breeding. Do you employ your whole time in the most use- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 299 ful manner ? I do not mean, do you study all day long ? nor do I require it. But I mean, do you make the most of the respective allotments of your time ? While you study, is it with attention ? When you divert yourself, is it with spirit? Your diversions may, -if you please, employ some part of your time very usefully. It depends entirely upon the nature of them. If they are futile and frivolous, it is time worse than lost, for they will give you a habit of futility. All gaming, field sports, and such sort of amusements, where neither the understanding nor the senses have the least share, I look upon as frivo- lous, and as the resources of little minds, who either do not think, or do not love to think. But the plea- sures of a man of parts either flatter the senses or improve the mind ; I hope, at least, that there is not one minute of the clay in which you do nothing at all. Inaction, at your age, is unpardonable. Tell me what Greek and Latin books you can now read with ease. Can you open Demosthenes at a venture, and understand him ? Can you get through an Oration of Cicero, or a Satire of Horace, without difficulty? What German book do you read, to make yourself master of that language ? And what French books do you read for your amusement? Pray give me a particular and true account of all this ; for I am not indifferent as to any one thing that relates to you. As for example: I hope you take great care to keep your whole person, particu- larly your mouth, very clean: common decency requires it; besides that, great cleanliness is very conducive to health. But if you do not keep your mouth excessively clean, by washing it carefully every morning, and after every meal, it will not only be apt to smell, which is very disgusting and indecent ; but your teeth will decay and ache, which is both a great loss, and a great pain. A spruceness of dress is also very proper and becoming at your 300 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S age ; as the negligence of it implies an indifferency about pleasing which does not become a young fellow. To do, whatever you do at all, to the utmost perfection, ought to be your aim, at this time of your life : if you can reach perfection, so much the better; but, at least, by attempting it, you will get much nearer, than if you never attempted it at all. Adieu ! Speak gracefully and distinctly, if you intend to converse ever with Yours. P. S. As I was making up my letter, I received yours of the 6th N. S. I like your dissertation upon Preliminary Articles and Truces. Your definitions of both are true. Those are matters of which I would have you be master; they belong to your future department. But remember too, that they are matters upon which you will much oftener have occasion to speak than to write; and that, conse- quently, it is full as necessary to speak gracefully and distinctly upon them, as to write clearly and elegantly. I find no authority among the ancients, nor indeed among the moderns, for indistinct and unintelligible utterance. The Oracles indeed meaned to be obscure ; but then it was by the ambiguity of the expression, and not by the inarticulation of the words. For, if people had not thought, at least, they understood them, they would neither have fre- quented nor presented them as they did. There was likewise, among the ancients, and is still among the moderns, a sort of people called Ventriloqui, who speak from their bellies, or make the voice seem to come from some other part of the room than that where they are. But these Ventriloqui speak very distinctly and intelligibly. The only thing, then, that I can find like a precedent for your way of speaking (and I would willingly help you to one if I could) is the modern art de Persister, practised with great success by the petits maitres at Paris. This noble art consists in picking out some grave, serious LETTERS TO HIS SON. 301 man, who neither understands nor expects raillery, and talking to him very quick, and in inarticulate sounds ; while the man, who thinks that he either did not hear well, or attend sufficiently, says, Mon- sieur, or Plait-il P a hundred times ; which affords matter of much mirth to those ingenious gentlemen. Whether you would follow this precedent I submit to you. Have you carried no English or French comedies or tragedies with you to Leipsig? If you have, I insist upon your reciting some passages of them every day to Mr. Harte, in the most distinct and graceful manner, as if you were acting them upon a stage. The first part of my letter is more than an answer to your question concerning Lord Pulteney. LETTER CXXV. DEAR BOY, London, July the 26th, O. S. 1748. There are two sorts of understandings ; one of which hinders a man from ever being considerable, and the other commonly makes him ridiculous ; I mean the lazy mind, and the trifling, frivolous mind. Yours, I hope, is neither. The lazy mind will not take the trouble of going to the bottom of any thing ; but, discouraged by the first difficulties (and every thing worth knowing or having is attended with some), stops short, contents itself with easy, and, consequently, superficial knowledge, and prefers a great degree of ignorance to a small degree of trou- ble. These people either think, or represent, most things as impossible ; whereas few things are so, to industry and activity. But difficulties seem to them impossibilities, or at least they pretend to think them VOL. I. D D 302 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S so, by way of excuse for their laziness. An hour's attention to the same object is too laborious for them ; they take every thing in the light in which it first presents itself, never consider it in all its different views ; and, in short, never think it thorough. The consequence of this is, that when they come to speak upon these subjects before people who have con- sidered them with attention, they only discover their own ignorance and laziness, and lay themselves open to answers that put them in confusion. Do not then be discouraged by the first difficulties, but contra audentior ito ; and resolve to go to the bottom of all those things, which every gentleman ought to know well. Those arts or sciences, which are pecu- liar to certain professions, need not be deeply known by those who are not intended for those professions. As for instance; fortification and navigation; of both which, a superficial and general knowledge, such as the common course of conversation, with a very little inquiry on your part, will give you, is sufficient. Though, by the way, a little more know- ledge of fortification may be of some use to you ; as the events of war, in sieges, make many of the terms of that science occur frequently in common conver- sations; and one would be sorry to say, like the Marquis de Mascarille, in Moliere's Precieuses Ridi- cules, when he hears of une demie Lime; Ma foi, c'etoit bien une Lune toute entiere. But those things which every gentleman, independently of profession, should know, he ought to know well, and dive into all the depths of them. Such are languages, his- tory, and geography ancient and modern; philo- sophy, rational logic, rhetoric ; and, for you particu- larly, the constitutions, and the civil and military state of every country in Europe. This, I confess, is a pretty large circle of knowledge, attended with some difficulties, and requiring some trouble ; which, however, an active and industrious mind will over- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 303 come, and be amply repaid. The trifling and frivo- lous mind is always busied, but to little purpose ; it takes little objects for great ones, and throws away upon trifles that time and attention, which only im- portant things deserve. Knick-knacks, butterflies, shells, insects, &c. are the objects of their most se- rious researches. They contemplate the dress, not the characters, of the company they keep. They attend more to the decorations of a Play, than to the sense of it ; and to the ceremonies of a Court, more than to its politics. Such an employment of time is an absolute loss of it. You have now, at most, three years, to employ, either well or ill ; for, as I have often told you, you will be all your life, what you shall be three years hence. For God's sake then reflect : Will you throw away this time, either in laziness, or in trifles p Or will you not rather em- ploy every moment of it in a manner that must so soon reward you, with so much pleasure, figure, and character? I cannot, I will not doubt of your choice. Read only useful books ; and never quit a subject till you are thoroughly master of it, but read and inquire on till then. When you are in company, bring the conversation to some useful subject, but d portee of that company. Points of history, mat- ters of literature, the customs of particular countries, the several Orders of Knighthood, as Teutonic, Mai these, &c. are surely better subjects of conver- sation than the weather, dress, or fiddle-faddle stories, that carry no information along with them. The characters of Kings, and great Men, are only to be learned in conversation ; for they are never fairly written during their lives. This, therefore, is an en- tertaining and instructive subject of conversation, and will likewise give you an opportunity of ob- serving how very differently characters are given, from the different passions and views of those who give them. Never be ashamed nor afraid of asking 304 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S questions; for if they lead to information, and if you accompany them with some excuse, you will never be reckoned an impertinent or rude questioner. All those things, in the common course of life, de- pend entirely upon the manner ; and in that respect the vulgar saying is true, That one man may better steal a horse, than another look over the hedge. There are few things that may not be said, in some manner or other; either in a seeming confidence, or a genteel irony, or introduced with wit : and one great part of the knowledge of the world consists in knowing when, and where, to make use of these different manners. The graces of the person, the countenance, and the way of speaking, contribute so much to this, that I am convinced, the very same thing, said by a genteel person, in an engaging way, and gracefully and distinctly spoken, would please ; which would shock, if muttered out by an awkward figure, with a sullen, serious countenance. The Poets always represent Venus as attended by the three Graces, to intimate, that even Beauty will not do without. I think they should have given Mi- nerva three also; for, without them, I am sure, Learning is very unattractive. Invoke them, then, distinctly, to accompany all your words and mo- tions. Adieu. P. S. Since I wrote what goes before, I have re- ceived your letter, of no date, with the enclosed state of the Prussian forces : of which, I hope you have kept a copy ; this you should lay in a porte-feuille, and add to it all the military establishments that you can get, of other States and Kingdoms : the Saxon establishment you may, doubtless, easily find. By the way, do not forget to send me answers to the questions which I sent you some time ago, concern- ing both the civil and the ecclesiastical affairs of Saxony. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 305 Do not mistake me, and think I only mean that you should speak elegantly with regard to style, and the purity of language ; but I mean, that you should deliver and pronounce what you say, gracefully and distinctly ; for which purpose, I will have you fre- quently read, very loud, to Mr. Harte, recite parts of orations, and speak passages of plays. For, with- out a graceful and pleasing enunciation, all your elegancy of style, in speaking, is not worth one farthing. I am very glad that Mr. Lyttelton approves of my new house, and particularly of my Canonical pillars. My bust of Cicero is a very fine one, and well preserved; it will have the best place in my library, unless, at your return, you bring me over as good a modern head of your own ; which I should like still better. I can tell you that I shall examine it as attentively, as ever antiquary did an old one. Make my compliments to Mr. Harte, whose re- covery I rejoice at. LETTER CXXVI. DEAR BOY, London, August the 2d, O. S. 1748. Duval, the jeweller, is arrived, and was with me three or four days ago. You will easily imagine that I asked him a few questions concerning you ; and I will give you the satisfaction of knowing, that, upon the whole, I was very well pleased with the account he gave me. But, though he seemed to be much in your interest, yet he fairly owned to me, that your utterance was rapid, thick, and ungraceful. I can add nothing to what I have already said upon this subject ; but I can and do repeat the absolute necessity of speaking distinctly and gracefully, or D D 2 306 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S else of not speaking at all, and having recourse to signs. He tells me that you are pretty fat for one of your age : this you should attend to in a proper way ; for if, while very young, you should grow fat, it would be troublesome, unwholesome, and ungrace- ful : you should therefore, when you have time, take very strong exercise, and in your diet avoid fattening things. All malt liquors fatten, or at least bloat ; and I hope you do not deal much in them. I look upon wine and water to be, in every respect, much wholesomer. Duval says, there is a great deal of very good company at Madame Valentin's,, and at another Lady's, I think one Madam Ponce's, at Leipsig. Do you ever go to either of those houses, at leisure times? It would not, in my mind, be amiss if you did ; and would give you a habit of attentions : they are a tri- bute which all women expect, and which all men, who would be well received by them, must pay. And, whatever the mind may be, manners, at least, are certainly improved by the company of women of fashion. I have formerly told you, that you should inform yourself of the several Orders, whether military or religious, of the respective countries where you may be. The Teutonic Order is the great Order of Ger- many, of which I send you enclosed a short account. It may serve to suggest questions to you, for more particular inquiries, as to the present state of it : of which you ought to be minutely informed. The Knights, at present, make vows, of which they ob- serve none, except it be that of not marrying ; and their only object, now, is to arrive, by seniority, at the Commanderiesm their respective provinces ; which are, many of them, very lucrative. The Order of Maltha is, by a very few years prior to the Teutonic, and owes its foundation to the same causes. These Knights were first called Knights Hospitaliers of LETTERS TO HIS SON. 307 St. John of Jerusalem ; then Knights of Rhodes ; and, in the year 1530, Knights of Maltha, the Em- peror Charles V. having granted them that island, upon condition of their defending his island of Sicily against the Turks : which they effectually did. 1/ Abbe de Vertot has written the History of Maltha, but it is the least valuable of all his works ; and moreover, too long for you to read. But there is a short history of all the military Orders whatsoever, which I would advise you to get ; as there is also of all the religious Orders ; both which are worth your having, and consulting, whenever you meet with any of them in your way; as you will, very fre- quently, in Catholic countries. For my own part, I find that I remember things much better, when I recur to my books for them, upon some particular occasion, than by reading them tout de suite. As for example ; if I were to read the history of all the military or religious Orders, regularly, one after another, the latter puts the former out of my head ; but when I read the history of any one, upon ac- count of its having been the object of conversation or dispute, I remember it much better. It is the same in Geography; where, looking for any particular place in the map, upon some particular account, fixes it in one's memory for ever. I hope you have worn out your maps, by frequent use of that sort. Adieu. A SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE TEUTONIC ORDER. In the ages of ignorance, which is always the mother of superstition, it was thought not only just, but me- ritorious, to propagate religion by fire and sword, and to take away the lives and properties of unbe- lievers. This enthusiasm produced the several Croisadoes, in the eleventh, twelfth, and following centuries; the object of which was, to recover the 308 LORD chesterfield's Holy Land out of the hands of the Infidels : who, by the way, were the lawful possessors. Many honest enthusiasts engaged in these Croisadoes, from a mis- taken principle of religion, and from the pardons granted by the Popes for all the sins of those pious adventurers ; but many more knaves adopted these holy wars, in hopes of conquest and plunder. After Godfrey of Bouillon, at the head of these knaves and fools, had taken Jerusalem, in the year 1099, Christians of various nations remained in that city ; among the rest, one good honest German, that took particular care of his countrymen, who came thither in pilgrimages. He built a house for their reception, and an hospital dedicated to the Virgin. This little establishment soon became a great one, by the enthusiasm of many considerable people who engaged in it, in order to drive the Saracens out of the Holy Land. This society then began to take its first form ; and its members were called Marian Teutonic Knights. Marian, from their chapel, sa- cred to the Virgin Mary ; Teutonic, from the Ger- man, or Teuton, who was the author of it; and Knights, from the wars which they were to carry on against the Infidels. These Knights behaved themselves so bravely, at first, that Duke Frederick of Suabia, who was Ge- neral of the German army, in the Holy Land, sent, in the year 1191, to the Emperor Henry VI. and Pope Celestin III. to desire that this brave and cha- ritable fraternity might be incorporated into a regular Order of Knighthood ; which was accordingly done, and rules and a particular habit were given them. Forty Knights, all of noble families, were at first created, by the King of Jerusalem, and other Princes then in the army. The first Grand Master of this Order was Henry Wallpot, of a noble family upon the Rhine. This Order soon began to operate in Europe ; drove all the Pagans out of Prussia, and LETTERS TO HIS SON. 309 took possession of it. Soon after, they got Livonia and Courland, and invaded even Russia, where they introduced the Christian religion. In 1510, they elected Albert Marquis of Brandenburg for their Grand Master; who, turning Protestant, soon after- wards took Prussia from the Order, and kept it for himself, with the consent of Sigismund, King of Poland, of whom it was to hold. He then quitted his Grand-Mastership, and made himself Heredi- tary Duke of that country, which is thence called Ducal Prussia. This Order now consists of twelve provinces ; viz. Alsatia, Austria, Coblentz, and Etsch ; which are the four under the Prussian jurisdiction : Franconia, Hesse, Biessen, Westphalia, Lorrain, Thuringia, Saxony, and Utrecht; which eight are of the German jurisdiction. The Dutch now pos- sess all that the Order had in Utrecht. Every one of these provinces have their particular Commanderies; and the most ancient of these Commandeurs is called the Commandeur Provincial. These twelve Com- mandeurs are all subordinate to the Grand Master of Germany, as their Chief, and have a right of electing the Grand Master. The Elector of Cologne is at present Grand Mditre. This Order, founded by mistaken Christian zeal, upon the Antichristian principles of violence and persecution, soon grew strong, by the weakness and ignorance of the times ; acquired unjustly great pos- sessions, of which they justly lost the greatest part, by their ambition and cruelty, which made them feared and hated by all their neighbours. I have this moment received your letter of the 4th, N. S. and have only time to tell you, that I can by no means agree to your cutting off your hair. I am very sure that your headachs cannot proceed from thence. And a^ for the pimples upon your head, they are only owing to the heat of the season ; and 310 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S consequently will not last long. But your own hair is, at your age, such an ornament ; and a wig, how- ever well made, such a disguise, that I will upon no account whatsoever have you cut off your hair. Na- ture did not give it you for nothing, still less to cause you the headach. Mr. Eliot's hair grew so ill and bushy, that he was in the right to cut it off. But you have not the same reason. LETTER CXXVIL DEAR BOY, London, August the 23d, O. S. 1748. Your friend Mr. Eliot has dined with me twice since I returned hither ; and I can say with truth, that, while I had the seals, I never examined or sifted a state prisoner, with so much care and curiosity, as I did him. Nay, I did more ; for, contrary to the laws of this country, I gave him, in some manner, the Question ordinary and extraordinary ; and I have infinite pleasure in telling you, that the rack, which I put him to, did not extort from him one single word that was not such as I wished to hear of you. I heartily congratulate you upon such an advan- tageous testimony, from so creditable a witness. Laudari a laudato viro, is one of the greatest plea- sures and honours a rational being can have ; may you long continue to deserve it ! Your aversion to drinking, and your dislike to gaming, which Mr. Eliot assures me are both very strong, give me the greatest joy imaginable, for your sake ; as the former would ruin both your constitution and understand- ing, and the latter your fortune and character. Mr. Harte wrote me word some time ago, and Mr. Eliot confirms it now, that you employ your pin money in a very different manner from that in which pin LETTERS TO HIS SON. 311 money is commonly lavished. Not in gewgaws and baubles, but in buying good and useful books. This is an excellent symptom, and gives me very good hopes. Go on thus, my dear boy, but for these two next years, and I ask no more. You must then make such a figure, and such a fortune in the world, as I wish you, and as I have taken all these pains to enable you to do. After that time, I allow you to be as idle as ever you please; because I am sure that you will not then please to be so at all. The ignorant and the weak only are idle ; but those, who have once acquired a good stock of knowledge, always desire to increase it. Knowledge is like power, in this respect, that those who have the most, are most desirous of having more. It does not clog, by possession, but increases desire; which is the case of very few pleasures. Upon receiving this congratulatory letter, and reading your own praises, I am sure that it must naturally occur to you, how great a share of them you owe to Mr. Harte's care and attention; and consequently, that your regard and affection for him must increase, if there be room for it, in pro- portion as you reap, which you do daily, the fruits of his labours. I must not, however, conceal from you, that there was one article in which your own witness, Mr. Eliot, faltered ; for, upon my questioning him home, as to your manner of speaking, he could not say that your utterance was either distinct or graceful. I have already said so much to you upon' this point, that I can add nothing. I will therefore only repeat this truth, which is, That if you will not speak dis- tinctly and gracefully, nobody will desire to hear you. I am glad to learn that Abbe Mably's Droit Public de l y Europe makes a part of your evening amuse- ments. It is a very useful book, and gives a clear deduction of the affairs of Europe, from the Treaty 312 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S of Minister to this time. Pray read it with attention, and with the proper maps; always recurring to them for the several countries or towns yielded, taken, or restored. Pere Bougeant's third volume will give you the best idea of the Treaty of Munster, and open to you the several views of the belligerent and contracting parties: and there never were greater than at that time. The House of Austria, in the war immediately preceding that Treaty, intended to make itself absolute in the Empire, and to overthrow the rights of the respective States of it. The view of France was, to weaken and dismember the House of Austria, to such a degree, as that it should no longer be a counterbalance to that of Bourbon. Sweden wanted possessions upon the continent of Germany, not only to supply the necessities of its own poor and barren country ; but likewise to hold the balance in the Empire between the House of Austria and the States. The House of Branden- burg wanted to aggrandize itself by pilfering in the fire ; changed sides occasionally, and made a good bargain at last : for I think it got, at the peace, nine or ten bishoprics secularised. So that we may date, from the Treaty of Munster, the decline of the House of Austria, the great power of the House of Bourbon, and the aggrandisement of that of Bran- denburg : and I am much mistaken if it stops where it is now. Make my compliments to Lord Pulteney; to whom I would have you be not only attentive, but useful, by setting him (in case he wants it) a good example of application and temperance. I begin to believe, that, as I shall be proud of you, others will be proud too of imitating you. Those expectations of mine seem now so well grounded, that my disap- pointment, and consequently my anger, will be so much the greater, if they fail ; but, as things stand now, I am most affectionately and tenderly Yours. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 313 LETTER CXXVIIT. DEAR BOY, London, August the 30th, 0. S. 1748. Your reflections upon the conduct of France, from the Treaty of Munster to this time, are very just; and I am very glad to find, by them, that you not only read, but that you think and reflect upon what you read. Many great readers load their memories, without exercising their judgments ; and make lum- ber-rooms of their heads, instead of furnishing them usefully : facts are heaped upon facts, without order or distinction, and may justly be said to compose that Rudis indigestaque moles Quam dixere chaos. Go on, then, in the way of reading that you are in ; take nothing for granted, upon the bare authority of the author; but weigh and consider, in your own mind, the probability of the facts, and the just- ness of the reflections. Consult different authors upon the same facts, and form your opinion upon the greater or lesser degree of probability arising from the whole ; which, in my mind, is the utmost stretch of historical faith : certainty (I fear) not being to be found. When an Historian pretends to give you the causes and motives of events, compare those causes and motives with the characters and interests of the parties concerned, and judge for yourself, whether they correspond or not. Consider whether you cannot assign others more probable ; and in that examination, do not despise some very mean and trifling causes of the actions of great men: for so various and inconsistent is human nature, so strong and so changeable are our passions, so fluctuating VOL. I. EE 314 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S are our wills, and so much are our minds influenced by the accidents of our bodies, that every man is more the man of the day, than a regular and conse- quential character. The best have something bad, and something little; the worst have something good, and sometimes something great; for I do not believe what Velleius Paterculus (for the sake of say- ing a pretty thing) says of Scipio, Qui nihil non lau- dandum aut fecit, aut dixit, aut sensit. As for the reflections of Historians, with which they think it necessary to interlard their Histories, or at least to conclude their chapters (and which, in the French Histories, are always introduced with a tant il est vrai, and in the English, so true it is) do not adopt them implicitly upon the credit of the author, but analyse them yourself, and judge whether they are true or not. But, to return to the politics of France, from which I have digressed: — you have certainly made one farther reflection, of an advantage which France has, over and above its abilities in the cabinet, and the skill of its negotiators ; which is (if I may use the expression) its soleness, continuity of riches and power within itself, and the nature of its govern- ment. Near twenty millions of people, and the ordinary revenue of above thirteen millions sterling a year, are at the absolute disposal of the Crown. This is what no other Power in Europe can say ; so that different Powers must now unite to make a ba- lance against France; which union, though formed upon the principle of their common interest, can never be so intimate as to compose a machine so compact and simple as that of one great kingdom, directed by one will, and moved by one interest. The Allied Powers (as we have constantly seen) have, besides the common and declared object of their alliance, some separate and concealed view, to which they often sacrifice the general one ; which LETTERS TO HIS SON. 315 makes them, either directly or indirectly, pull dif- ferent ways. Thus, the design upon Toulon failed, in the year 1706, only from the secret view of the House of Austria upon Naples ; which made the Court of Vienna, notwithstanding the representations of the other Allies to the contrary, send to Naples the twelve thousand men that would have done the business at Toulon. In this last war, too, the same causes had the same effects : the Queen of Hungary, in secret, thought of nothing but recovering Silesia, and what she had lost in Italy ; and therefore never sent half that quota, which she promised and we paid for, into Flanders ; but left that country to the Maritime Powers to defend as they could. The King of Sardinia's real object was Savona, and all the Riviera di Ponente ; for which reason he concurred so lamely in the invasion of Provence: where the Queen of Hungary, likewise, did not send one-third of the force stipulated ; engrossed as she was, by her oblique views upon the plunder of Genoa, and the recovery of Naples. Insomuch that the expedi- tion into Provence, which would have distressed France to the greatest degree, and have caused a great detachment from their army in Flanders, failed shamefully, for want of every thing necessary for its success. Suppose, therefore, any four or five Powers, who, all together, shall be equal, or even a little superior, in riches and strength, to that one Power against which they are united ; the advantage will still be greatly on the side of that single Power, because it is but one. The power and riches of Charles V. were, in themselves, certainly superior to those of Francis I. ; and yet, upon the whole, he was not an overmatch for him. Charles the Fifth's dominions, great as they were, were scattered and remote from each other ; their constitutions different; and wherever he did not reside, disturbances arose : whereas the compactness of France made up the 316 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S difference in the strength. This obvious reflection convinced me of the absurdity of the Treaty of Ha- nover, in 1725, between France and England, to which the Dutch afterwards acceded ; for it was made upon the apprehensions, either real or pretended, that the marriage of Don Carlos with the eldest Archdutchess, now Queen of Hungary, was settled in the Treaty of Vienna, of the same year, between Spain and the late Emperor, Charles VI. ; which marriage, those consummate politicians said, would revive in Europe the exorbitant power of Charles V. I am sure, I heartily wish it had ; as, in that case, there had been, what there certainly is not now,-—- one Power in Europe to counterbalance that of France; and then the Maritime Powers would, in reality, have held the balance of Europe in their hands. Even supposing that the Austrian power would then have been an overmatch for that of France ; which (by the way) is not clear ; the weight of the Maritime Powers, then thrown into the scale of France, would infallibly have made the balance at least even. In which case too, the moderate efforts of the Maritime Powers, on the side of France, would have been sufficient ; whereas, now, they are obliged to exhaust and beggar themselves, and that too ineffectually, in hopes to support the shattered, beggared, and insufficient House of Austria. This has been a long political dissertation, but I am informed that political subjects are your favourite ones ; which I am glad of, considering your desti- nation. You do well to get your materials all ready, before you begin your work. As you buy, and (I am told) read, books of this kind, I will point out two or three for your purchase and perusal; I am not sure that I have not mentioned them before; but that is no matter, if you have not got them.. Memoir es four servir d VHisioire du lime Siecle, is a most useful book for you to recur to, for all the LETTERS TO HIS SON. 317 facts and chronology of that century ; it is in four volumes octavo, and very correct and exact. If I do not mistake, I have formerly recommended to you, Les Memoir es du Cardinal de Retz; however, if you have not yet read them, pray do, and with the attention which they deserve. You will there find the best account of a very interesting period of the minority of Lewis XIV. The characters are drawn short, but in a strong and masterly manner; and the political reflections are the only just and prac- tical ones, that I ever saw in print : they are well worth your transcribing-, Le Commerce des Anciens, far Monsieur Huet, Eveque d'Avranche, in one little volume octavo, is worth your perusal, as commerce is a very considerable part of your political know- ledge. I need not, I am sure, suggest to you, when you read the course of Commerce, either of the an- cients or of the moderns, to follow it upon your map ; for there is no other way of remembering Geography correctly, than by looking perpetually in the map for the places one reads of, even though one knows before, pretty nearly, where they are. Adieu ! As all the accounts which I receive of you grow better and better, so I grow more and more affectionately yours. LETTER CXXIX. DEAR BOY, London, September the 5th, O. S. 1748. I have received yours, with the enclosed German letter to Mr. Grevenkop, which he assures me is extremely well written, considering the little time that you have applied yourself to that language. As you have now got over the most difficult part, pray go on diligently, and make yourself absolutely master of the rest. Whoever does not entirely possess a lan- E E 2 318 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S guage, will never appear to advantage, or even equal to himself, either in speaking or writing it. His ideas are fettered, and seem imperfect or confused, if he is not master of all the words and phrases necessary to express them. I therefore desire, that you will not fail writing a German letter, once every fortnight, to Mr. Grevenkop ; which will make the writing of that language familiar to you : and, more- over, when you shall have left Germany, and be arrived at Turin, I shall require you to write even to me in German; that you may not forget, with ease, what you have with difficulty learned. I like- wise desire, that, while you are in Germany, you will take all opportunities of conversing in German, which is the only way of knowing that, or any other language, accurately. You will also desire your German master to teach you the proper titles and superscriptions to be used to people of all ranks; which is a point so material, in Germany, that I have known many a letter returned unopened, be- cause one title in twenty has been omitted in the direction. St. Thomas's day now draws near, when you are to leave Saxony and go to Berlin ; and I take it for granted, that, if any thing is yet wanting, to complete your knowledge of the state of that Electorate, you will not fail to procure it before you go away. I do not mean, as you will easily believe, the number of churches, parishes, or towns ; but I mean the consti- tution, the revenues, the troops, and the trade of that Electorate. A few questions, sensibly asked, of sensible people, will procure you the necessary informations ; which I desire you will enter in your little book. Berlin will be entirely a new scene to you, and I look upon it, in a manner, as your first step into the great world : take care that step be not a false one, and that you do not stumble at the threshold. You will there be in more company LETTERS TO HIS SON. 319 than you have yet been; Manners and Attentions will therefore be more necessary. Pleasing in com- pany is the only way of being pleased in it yourself. Sense and Knowledge are the first and necessary foundations for pleasing in company ; but they will by no means do alone, and they will never be per- fectly welcome, if they are not accompanied with Manners and Attentions. You will best acquire these by frequenting the companies of people of fashion ; but then you must resolve to acquire them, in those companies, by proper care and observation ; for I have known people, who, though they have frequented good company all their lifetime, have done it in so inattentive and unobserving a manner, as to be never the better for it, and to remain as dis- agreeable, as awkward, and as vulgar, as if they had never seen any person of fashion. When you go into good company (by good company is meant the people of the first fashion of the place) observe care- fully their turn, their manners, their address : and conform your own to them. But this is not all neither; go deeper still; observe their characters, and pry, as far as you can, into both their hearts and their heads. Seek for their particular merit, their predominant passion, or their prevailing weak- ness; and you will then know what to bait your hook with, to catch them. Man is a composition of so many and such various ingredients, that it requires both time and care to analyse him : for though we have, all, the same ingredients in our general composition, as Reason, Will, Passions, and Appetites ; yet the different proportions and combi- nations of them, in each individual, produce that infinite variety of characters, which, in some par- ticular or other distinguishes every individual from another. Reason ought to direct the whole, but seldom does. And he who addresses himself singly to another man's reason, without endeavouring to 320 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S engage his heart in his interest also, is no more likely to succeed, than a man who should apply only to a King's nominal Minister, and neglect his Favourite. I will recommend to your attentive pe- rusal, now you are going into the world, two books, which will let you as much into the characters of men, as books can do. I mean, Les Reflexions Morales de Monsieur de la Rochefoucault, and Les Caracteres de la Bruyere: but remember, at the same time, that I only recommend them to you as the best general maps, to assist you in your journey, and not as marking out every particular turning and winding that you will meet with. There, your own sagacity and observation must come to their aid. La Rochefoucault is, I know, blamed, but I think without reason, for deriving all our actions from the source of self-love. For my own part, I see a great deal of truth, and no harm at all, in that opinion. It is certain, that we seek our own happiness in every thing we do ; and it is as certain, that we can only find it in doing well, and in conforming all our actions to the rule of right reason, which is the great law of Nature. It is only a mistaken self-love that is a blamable motive, when we take the immediate and indiscriminate gratification of a passion, or ap- petite, for real happiness. But am I blamable, if I do a good action, upon account of the happiness which that honest consciousness will give me ? Surely not. On the contrary, that pleasing consciousness is a proof of my virtue. The reflection, which is the most censured in Monsieur de la Rochefoucault' s book, as a very ill natured one, is this; On trouve dans le malheur de son meilleur ami, quelque chose qui 7ie deplait pas. And why not P Why may I not feel a very tender and real concern for the misfortune of my friend, and yet at the same time feel a pleasing consciousness at having discharged my duty to him, by comforting and assisting him to the utmost of LETTERS TO HIS SON. 321 my power in that misfortune? Give me but virtuous actions, and I will not quibble and chicane about the motives. And I will give any body their choice of these two truths, which amount to the same thing : He who loves himself best is the honestest man; or, The honestest man loves himself best. The characters of la Bruyere are pictures from the life ; most of them finely drawn, and highly coloured. Furnish your mind with them first ; and when you meet with their likeness, as you will every day, they will strike you the more. You will compare every feature with the original ; and both will reciprocally help you to discover the beauties and the blemishes. As women are a considerable, or at least a pretty numerous part of company ; and as their suffrages go a great way towards establishing a man's charac- ter, in the fashionable part of the world (which is of great importance to the fortune and figure he proposes to make in it), it is necessary to please them. I will therefore, upon this subject, let you into cer- tain Arcana, that will be very useful for you to know, but which you must, with the utmost care, conceal ; and never seem to know. Women, then, are only children of a larger growth ; they have an entertain- ing tattle, and sometimes wit ; but for solid, reason- ing good sense, I never in my life knew one that had it, or who reasoned or acted consequentially for four and twenty hours together. Some little passion or humour always breaks in upon their best resolutions. Their beauty neglected or controverted, their age increased, or their supposed understandings depre- ciated, instantly kindles their little passions, and overturns any system of consequential conduct, that in their most reasonable moments they might have been capable of forming. A man of sense only trifles with them, plays with them, humours and flatters them, as he does with a sprightly, forward 32& LORD chesterfield's child ; but he neither consults them about, nor trusts them with, serious matters ; though he often makes them believe that he does both ; which is the thing in the world that they are proud of; for they love mightily to be dabbling in business (which, by the way, they always spoil) ; and being justly distrustful, that men in general look upon them in a trifling light, they almost adore that man, who talks more seriously to them, and w 7 ho seems to consult and trust them : I say, who seems ; for weak men really do, but wise ones only seem to do it. No flattery is either too high or too low for them. They will greedily swallow the highest, and gratefully accept of the lowest; and you may safely flatter any wo- man, from her understanding, down to the exquisite taste of her fan. Women, who are either indisputa- bly beautiful, or indisputably ugly, are best flattered upon the score of their understandings : but those who are in a state of mediocrity, are best flattered upon their beauty, or at least their graces ; for every woman, who is not absolutely ugly, thinks herself handsome; but not hearing often that she is so, is the more grateful, and the more obliged to the few who tell her so : whereas a decided and conscious beauty looks upon every tribute paid to her beauty, only as her due ; but wants to shine, and to be con- sidered on the side of her understanding: and a woman, who is ugly enough to know that she is so, knows that she has nothing left for it but her under- standing, which is, consequently (and probably in more senses than one), her weak side. But these are secrets, which you must keep inviolably, if you would not, like Orpheus, be torn to pieces by the whole sex : on the contrary, a man, who thinks of living in the great world, must be gallant, polite, and attentive to please the women. They have, from the weakness of men, more or less influence in all Courts : LETTERS TO HIS SON. 323 they absolutely stamp every man's character in the beau monde, and make it either current, or cry it down, and stop it in payments. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary to manage, please, and flatter them ; and never to discover the least marks of con- tempt, which is what they never forgive; but in this they are not singular, for it is the same with men ; who will much sooner forgive an injustice than an insult. Every man is not ambitious, or covetous, or passionate ; but every man has pride enough in his composition to feel and resent the least slight and contempt. Remember, therefore, most carefully to conceal your contempt, however just, wherever you would not make an implacable enemy. Men are much more unwilling to have their weaknesses and their imperfections known, than their crimes ; and, if you hint to a man, that you think him silly, ignorant, or even ill bred, or awkward, he will hate you more, and longer, than if you tell him, plainly, that you think him a rogue. Never yield to that temptation, which, to most young men, is very strong, of exposing other people's weaknesses and infirmities, for the sake either of diverting the company, or of showing your own superiority. You may get the laugh on your side by it, for the present ; but you will make ene- mies by it for ever ; and even those who laugh with you then, will, upon reflection, fear, and consequently hate you : besides that, it is ill natured ; and that a good heart desires rather to conceal, than expose, other people's weaknesses or misfortunes. If you have wit, use it to please, and not to hurt : you may shine, like the sun in the temperate Zones, without scorching. Here it is wished for; under the Line it is dreaded. These are some of the hints, which my long expe- rience in the great world enables me to give you ; and which, if you attend to them, may prove useful to you in your journey through it. I wish it may 324 LORD chesterfield's be a prosperous one ; at least, I am sure that it must be your own fault if it is not. Make my compliments to Mr. Harte, who, I am very sorry to hear, is not well. I hope by this time he is recovered. Adieu. LETTER CXXX. DEAR BOY, London, September the 13th, O. S. 1748. I have more than once recommended to you the Memoirs of the Cardinal de Retz, and to attend particularly to the political reflections interspersed in that excellent work. I will now preach a little upon two or three of those texts. In the disturbances at Paris, Monsieur de Beau- fort, who was a very popular, though a very weak man, was the Cardinal's tool with the populace. Proud of his popularity, he was always for assem- bling the people of Paris together, thinking that he made a great figure at the head of them. The Car- dinal, who was factious enough, was wise enough, at the same time, to avoid gathering the people toge- ther, except when there was occasion, and when he had something particular for them to do. However, he could not always check Monsieur de Beaufort ; who having assembled them once very unnecessa- rily, and without any determined object, they ran riot, would not be kept within bounds by their lead- ers, and did their cause a great deal of harm ; upon which the Cardinal observes, most judiciously, Que Monsieur de Beaufort ne savoit pas, que qui assemble le peuple, Vemeut. It is certain, that great numbers of people, met together, animate each other, and will do something, either good or bad, but oftener bad : and the respective individuals, who w r ere separately LETTERS TO HIS SON. 325 very quiet, when met together in numbers, grow tumultuous as a body, and ripe for any mischief that may be pointed out to them by the leaders ; and, if their leaders have no business for them, they will find some for themselves. The Demagogues, or leaders of popular factions, should therefore be very careful not to assemble the people unnecessa- rily, and without a settled and well considered object. Besides that, by making those popular assemblies too frequent, they make them likewise too familiar, and consequently less respected by their enemies. Observe any meetings of people, and you will always find their eagernesss and impetuosity rise or fall in proportion to their numbers : when the numbers are very great, all sense and reason seem to subside, and one sudden frenzy to seize on all, even the coolest of them. Another very just observation of the Cardinal's, is, That the things which happen in our own times, and which we see ourselves, do not surprise us near so much as the things which we read of in times past, though not in the least more extraordinary; and adds, that he is persuaded, that, when Caligula made his horse a Consul, the people of Rome, at that time, were not greatly surprised at it, having necessarily been in some degree prepared for it, by an insensible gradation of extravagancies from the same quarter. This is so true, that we read every day, with astonishment, things which we see every day without surprise. We wonder at the intrepidity of a Leonidas, a Codrus, and a Curtius ; and are not the least surprised to hear of a Sea-Captain, who has blown up his ship, his crew, and himself, that they might not fall into the hands of the enemies of his country. I cannot help reading of Porsenna and Regulus, with surprise and reverence; and yet I remember that I saw, without either, the execution of Shepherd, a boy of eighteen years old, who in- VOL. I. F F 326 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S tended to shoot the late King, and who would have been pardoned, if he would have expressed the least sorrow for his intended crime ; but, on the contrary, he declared, That, if he was pardoned, he would attempt it again ; that he thought it a duty which he owed his country ; and that he died with pleasure for having endeavoured to perform it. Reason equals Shepherd to Regulus ; but prejudice, and the recency of the fact, make Shepherd a common malefactor, and Regulus a hero. Examine carefully, and reconsider all your notions of things; analyse them, and discover their compo- nent parts, and see if habit and prejudice are not the principal ones; weigh the matter, upon which you are to form your opinion, in the equal and im- partial scales of reason. It is not to be conceived how many people, capable of reasoning, if they would, live and die in a thousand errors, from lazi- ness ; they will rather adopt the prejudices of others, than give themselves the trouble of forming opinions of their own. They say things, at first, because other people have said them, and then they persist in them, because they have said them themselves. The last observation, that I shall now mention, of the Cardinal's is, " That a secret is more easily kept by a good many people, than one commonly ima- gines." By this he means a secret of importance, among people interested in the keeping of it. And it is certain that people of business know the import- ance of secrecy, and will observe it, where they are concerned in the event. And the Cardinal does not suppose that any body is silly enough to tell a secret, merely from the desire of telling it, to any one that is not some way or other interested in the keeping of it, and concerned in the event. To go and tell any friend, wife, or mistress, any secret with which they have nothing to do, is discovering to them such an unretentive weakness, as must convince them that LETTERS TO HIS SON. 327 you will tell it to twenty others, and consequently that they may reveal it without the risk of being discovered. But a secret properly communicated, only to those who are to be concerned in the thing in question, will probably be kept by them, though they should be a good many. Little secrets are commonly told again, but great ones generally kept. Adieu. LETTER CXXXI. DEAR BOY, London, September the 20th, O. S. 1748. I wait with impatience for your accurate History of the Chevaliers Porte Epees, which you promised me in your last, and which I take to be the forerunner of a larger work, that you intend to give the public, containing a general account of all the Religious and Military Orders of Europe. Seriously ; you will do well to have a general notion of all those Orders, ancient and modern ; both as they are fre- quently the subjects of conversation, and as they are more or less interwoven with the histories of those times. Witness the Teutonic Order, which, as soon as it gained strength, began its unjust depredations in Germany, and acquired such considerable pos- sessions there ; and the Order of Maltha also, which continues to this day its piracies upon the Infidels. Besides, one can go into no company in Germany, without running against Monsieur le Chevalier, or Monsieur le Commandeur de VOrdre Teutonique. It is the same in all the other parts of Europe, with regard to the Order of Maltha; where you never go into company without meeting two or three Che- vdliers, or Commandeurs, who talk of their Preuves, their Langues, their Caravanes, fyc. of all which things I am sure you would not willingly be ignorant. On 328 LORD chesterfield's the other hand, I do not mean that you should have a profound and minute knowledge of these matters, which are of a nature that a general knowledge of them is fully sufficient. I would not recommend to you to read Abbe Vertofs History of the Order of Maltha, in four quarto Volumes ; that would be employing a great deal of good time very ill. But I would have you know the foundations, the objects, the Insignia, and the short general history of them all. As for the ancient religious military Orders, which were chiefly founded in the eleventh and twelfth cen- turies ; such as Maltha, the Teutonic, the Knights Templers, &c. the injustice and the wickedness of those establishments cannot, I am sure, have escaped your observation. Their pious object was, to take away by force other people's property ; and to mas- sacre the proprietors themselves, if they refused to give up that property, and adopt the opinions of these invaders. What right or pretence had these confede- rated Christians of Europe to the Holy Land? Let them produce their grant of it in the Bible ? Will they say, that the Saracens had possessed themselves of it by force ; and that, consequently, they had the same right. Is it lawful then to steal goods, because they were stolen before? Surely not. The truth is, that the wickedness of many, and the weakness of more, in those ages of ignorance and superstition, concurred to form those flagitious conspiracies against the lives and properties of unoffending people. The Pope sanctified the villany, and annexed the par- don of sins to the perpetration of it. This gave rise to the Croisadoes, and carried such swarms of people from Europe to the conquests of the Holy Land. Peter the Hermit, an active and ambitious Priest, by his indefatigable pains, was the immediate author of the first Croisade ; Kings, Princes, all Professions and Characters united, from different motives, in this LETTERS TO HIS SON. 329 great undertaking, as every sentiment, except true religion and morality, invited to it. The ambitious hoped for kingdoms ; the greedy and the necessitous for plunder ; and some were enthusiasts enough to hope for salvation, by the destruction of a consider- able number of their fellow creatures, who had done them no injury. I cannot omit, upon this occasion, telling you that the Eastern Emperors at Constanti- nople (who, as Christians, were obliged at least to seem to favour these expeditions), seeing the immense numbers of the C wises, and fearing that the Western Empire might have some mind to the Eastern Empire too, if it succeeded against the Infidels, as Vappetit vient en mangeant; these Eastern Emperors, very honestly, poisoned the waters where the C wises were to pass, and so destroyed infinite numbers of them. The later Orders of Knighthood; such as the Garter in England ; the Elephant in Denmark ; the Golden Fleece in Burgundy ; the St. Esprit, St. Mi- chael, St. Louis, and St. Lazare, in France, &c. are of a very different nature and institution. They were either the invitations to, or the rewards of brave ac- tions in fair war ; and are now rather the decorations of the favour of the Prince, than the proofs of the merit of the subject. However, they are worth your inquiries to a certain degree ; and conversation will give you frequent opportunities for them. Where- ever you are, I would advise you to inquire into the respective orders of that country, and to write down a short account of them. For example ; while you are in Saxony, get an account of I'Aigle Blanc, and of what other Orders there may be, either Polish or Saxon ; and, when you shall be at Berlin, inform yourself of the three Orders I'Aigle Noir, la Genero- site, et le Vrai Merite, which are the only ones that I know of there. But whenever you meet with strag- gling ribands and stars, as you will with a thousand in Germany, do not fail to inquire what they are, f F 2 330 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S and to take a minute of them in your memorandum- book : for it is a sort of knowledge that costs little to acquire, and yet is of some use. Young- people have frequently an incuriousness about them, arising either from laziness, or a contempt of the object, which deprives them of several such little parts of know- ledge, that they afterwards wish they had acquired. If you will put conversation to profit, great know- ledge may be gained by it; and is it not better (since it is full as easy) to turn it upon useful, than upon useless subjects ? People always talk best upon what they know most, and it is both pleasing them, and improving one's self, to put them upon that subject. With people of a particular profession, or of a distinguished eminency in any branch of learn- ing, one is not at a loss : but with those, whether men or women, who properly constitute what is called the beau monde, one must not choose deep subjects, nor hope to get any knowledge above that of Orders, Ranks, Families, and Court anecdotes ; which are therefore the proper (and not altogether use- less) subjects of that kind of conversation. Women, especially, are to be talked to, as below men, and above children. If you talk to them too deep, you only confound them, and lose your own labour ; if you talk to them too frivolously, they perceive and resent the contempt. The proper tone for them is, what the French call the Entregent, and is, in truth, the polite jargon of good company. Thus, if you are a good chymist, you may extract something out of every thing. A propos of the beau monde; I must again and again recommend the Graces to you. There is no doing without them in that world : and, to make a good figure in that world is a great step towards making one in the world of business, particularly that part of it for which you are destined. An un- graceful manner of speaking, awkward motions, and LETTERS TO HIS SON. 331 a disagreeable address, are great clogs to the ablest man of business ; as the opposite qualifications are of infinite advantage to him. I am therefore very glad that you learn to dance, since I am told there is a very good dancing master at Leipsig. I would have you dance a minuet very well, not so much for the sake of the minuet itself (though that, if danced at all, ought to be danced well) as that it will give you an habitual genteel carriage, and manner of presenting yourself. Since I am upon little things, I must mention another, which, though little enough in itself, yet, as it occurs at least once in every day, deserves some attention ; I mean Carving. Do you use yourself to carve adroitly and genteelly, without hacking half an hour across a bone, without bespattering the com- pany with the sauce, and without overturning the glasses into your neighbours' pockets? These awk- wardnesses are extremely disagreeable ; and, if often repeated, bring ridicule. They are very easily avoided, by a little attention and use. How trifling soever these things may seem, or really be, in themselves, they are no longer so, when above half the world thinks them otherwise. And, as I would have you omnibus omatum—excellere rebus, I think nothing above or below my pointing out to you, or your excelling in. You have the means of doing it, and time before you to make use of them. Take my word for it, I ask nothing now, but what you will, twenty years hence, most heartily wish that you had done. Attention to all these things, for the next two or three years, will save you infinite trouble and endless regrets hereafter. May you, in the whole course of your life, have no reason for any one just regret ! Adieu. Your Dresden china is arrived, and I have sent it to your Mamma. 332 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER CXXXIL DEAR BOY, London, September the 27th, O. S. 1748. I have received your Latin Lecture upon War, which, though it is not exactly the same Latin that Caesar, Cicero, Horace, Virgil, and Ovid spoke, is however, as good Latin as the erudite Germans speak or write. I have always observed, that the most learned people, that is those who have read the most Latin, write the worst ; and this distin- guishes the Latin of a Gentleman scholar from that of a Pedant. A Gentleman has, probably, read no other Latin than that of the Augustan age; and therefore can write no other: whereas the Pedant has read much more bad Latin than good ; and consequently writes so too. He looks upon the best classical books, as books for school boys, and con- sequently below him ; but pores over fragments of obscure authors, treasures up the obsolete words which he meets with there, and uses them, upon all occasions, to show his reading, at the expense of his judgment. Plautus is his favourite author, not for the sake of the wit and the vis comica of his comedies ; but upon account of the many obsolete words, and the cant of low characters, which are to be met with no where else. He will rather use olli than Mi, optume than optime, and any bad word, rather than any good one, provided he can but prove, that strictly speaking, it is Latin ; that is, that it was written by a Roman. By this rule, I might now write to you in the language of Chaucer or Spenser, and assert that I wrote English, because it was English in their days ; but I should be a most affected puppy if I did so, and you would not understand three words of my letter. All these, and such like affected peculi- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 333 arities, are the characteristics of learned coxcombs and pedants, and are carefully avoided by all men of sense. I dipped, accidentally the other day, into Pitis- cus's preface to his Lexicon : where I found a word that puzzled me, and which I did not remember ever to have met with before. It is the adverb prarfiscine ; which means, in a good hour ; an expres- sion, which, by the superstition of it, appears to be low and vulgar. I looked for it ; and at last I found, that it is once or twice made use of in Plautus ; upon the strength of which, this learned pedant thrusts it into his preface. Whenever you write Latin, remem- ber that every word or phrase which you make use of, but cannot find in Caesar, Cicero, Livy, Horace, Virgil, and Ovid, is bad, illiberal Latin, though it may have been written by a Roman. I must now say something as to the matter of the Lecture ; in which, I confess, there is one doctrine laid down that surprises me : it is this ; Quum vero hostis sit lenta citave morte omnia diva nobis minitans quocunque bellantibus negotium est, parum sane inter- fuerit quo modo eum obruere et interjicere satagamus si ferociam exuere cunctetur. Ergo venono quoque uti fas est, fyc. whereas I cannot conceive that the use of poison can, upon any account, come within the lawful means of self-defence. Force may, without doubt, be justly repelled by force, but not by treach- ery and fraud ; for I do not call the stratagems of war, such as ambuscades, masked batteries, false attacks, &c. frauds or treachery ; they are mutually to be expected and guarded against ; but poisoned arrows, poisoned waters, or poison administered to your enemy (which can only be done by treachery) I have always heard, read, and thought to be un- lawful and infamous means of defence, be your danger ever so great : but, si ferociam exuere cuncte- tur ; must I rather die than poison this enemy ? Yes, 334 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S certainly, much rather die than do a base or crimi- nal action : nor can I be sure, beforehand, that this enemy may not in the last moment, ferociam exuere. But the Public Lawyers, now, seem to me, rather to warp the law, in order to authorise, than to check, those unlawful proceedings of Princes and States ; which, by being become common, appear less crimi- nal : though custom can never alter the nature of good and ill. Pray let no quibbles of Lawyers, no refinements of Casuists, break into the plain notions of right and wrong, which every man's right reason, and plain common sense, suggest to him. To do as you would be done by is the plain, sure, and undis- puted rule of morality and justice. Stick to that ; and be convinced, that whatever breaks into it, in any degree, however speciously it may be turned, and however puzzling it may be to answer it, is, notwithstanding, false in itself, unjust, and criminal. I do not know a crime in the world, which is not, by the Casuists among the Jesuits (especially the twenty-four collected, I think, by Escobar) allowed, in some, or many cases, not to be criminal. The principles first laid down by them are often specious, the reasonings plausible ; but the conclusion always a lie : for it is contrary to that evident, and undeni- able rule of justice which I have mentioned above, of not doing to any one what you would not have him do to you. But, however, these refined pieces of casuistry and sophistry, being very convenient and welcome to people's passions and appetites, they gladly accept the indulgence, without desiring to detect the fallacy of the reasoning: and indeed many, I might say most, people, are not able to do it ; which makes the publication of such quibblings and refinements the more pernicious. I am no skil- ful Casuist, nor subtle Disputant ; and yet I would undertake to justify, and qualify, the profession of LETTERS TO HIS SON. 335 a highwayman, step by step, and so plausibly, as to make many ignorant people embrace the profes- sion, as an innocent, if not even a laudable one ; and to puzzle people of some degree of knowledge, to answer me point by point. I have seen a book, entitled Quidlibet ex Quolibet, or the art of making any thing out of any thing ; which is not so difficult as it would seem, if once one quits certain plain truths, obvious in gross to every understanding, in order to run after the ingenious refinements of warm imaginations and speculative reasonings. Doctor Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, a very worthy, ingeni- ous, and learned man, has written a book to prove that there is no such thing as Matter, and that no- thing exists but in idea : that you and I only fancy ourselves eating, drinking, and sleeping; you at Leipsig, and I at London : that we think we have flesh and blood, legs, arms, &c. but that we are only spirit. His arguments are, strictly speaking, unan- swerable ; but yet I am so far from being convinced by them, that I am determined to go on to eat and drink, and walk and ride, in order to keep that matter, which I so mistakenly imagine my body at present to consist of, in as good plight as possible. Common sense (which, in truth, is very uncommon) is the best sense I know of: abide by it; it will counsel you best. Read and hear, for your amuse- ment, ingenious systems, nice questions, subtilly agitated, with all the refinements that warm imagi- nations suggest ; but consider them only as exerci- tations for the mind, and return always to settle with common sense. I stumbled, the other day, at a bookseller's upon Comte de Gabalis, in two very little volumes, which I had formerly read. I read it over again, and with fresh astonishment. Most of the extravagancies are taken from the Jewish Rabbins, who broached those wild notions, and delivered them in the unintelligible 336 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S jargon which the Caballists and Rosicrucians deal in to this. day. Their number is, I believe, much lessened, but there are still some ; and I myself ' have known two, who studied and firmly believed in that mystical nonsense. What extravagancy is not man capable of entertaining, when once his shackled reason is led in triumph by fancy and prejudice ! The ancient Alchymists gave very much into this stuff, by which they thought they should discover the Philosopher's Stone : and some of the most celebrated Empirics employed it in the pursuit of the Universal Medicine. Paracelsus, a bold Empiric, and wild Caballist, asserted, that he had discovered it, and called it his Alkahest. Why, or wherefore, God knows ; only that those madmen call nothing by an intelligible name. You may easily get this book from the Hague ; read it, for it will both divert and astonish you ; and, at the same time, teach you nil admirari ; a very necessary lesson. Your letters, except when upon a given subject, are exceedingly laconic, and neither answer my desires, nor the purpose of letters ; which should be familiar conversations, between absent friends. As I desire to live with you upon the footing of an in- timate friend, and not of a parent, I could wish that your letters gave me more particular accounts of yourself, and of your lesser transactions. When you write to me, suppose yourself conversing freely with me, by the fireside. In that case, you would natur- ally mention the incidents of the day; as where you had been, who you had seen, what you thought of them, &c. Do this in your letters ; acquaint me sometimes with your studies, sometimes with your diversions ; tell me of any new persons and charac- ters that you meet with in company, and add your own observations upon them : in short, let me see more of you, in your letters. How do you go on with Lord Pulteney ; and how does he go on at Leip- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 337 sig? Has he learning", has he parts, has he applica- tion ? Is he good or ill natured ? In short, What is he ? at least, what do you think him ? You may tell me without reserve, for I promise you secrecy. You are now of an age, that I am desirous to begin a confidential correspondence with you ; and as I shall, on my part, write you, very freely, my opinion upon men and things, which I should often be very un- willing that any body but you and Mr. Harte should see ; so, on your part, if you write to me without reserve, you may depend upon my inviolable secrecy. If you have ever looked into the Letters of Madame de Sevigne, to her daughter, Madame de Grignan ; you must have observed the ease, freedom, and friendship of that correspondence ; and yet, I hope, and believe, they did not love one another better than we do. Tell me what books you are now reading, either by way of study or amusement; how you pass your evenings when at home, and where you pass them when abroad. I know that you go some- times to Madame Valentin's assembly; What do you do there ; - do you play, or sup, or is it only la belle Conversation P Do you mind your dancing, while your dancing master is with you ? As you will be often under the necessity of dancing a minuet, I would have you dance it very well. Remember, that the graceful motion of the arms, the giving your hand, and the putting on and pulling off your hat genteelly, are the material parts of a gentleman's dancing. But the greatest advantage of dancing well is, that it necessarily teaches you to present yourself, to sit, stand, and walk genteelly ; all which are of real importance to a man of fashion. I should wish that you were polished, before you go to Berlin ; where, as you will be in a great deal of good company, I would have you have the right manners for it. It is a very considerable article to have le ton de la bonne compagnie, in your destination VOL. I. G G 338 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S particularly. The principal business of a foreign Minister is, to get into the secrets, and to know all les allures of the Courts at which he resides : this he can never bring about, but by such a pleasing address, such engaging manners, and such an insin- uating behaviour, as may make him sought for, and in some measure domestic, in the best company and the best families of the place. He will then, indeed, be well informed of all that passes, either by the con- fidences made him, or by the carelessness of people in his company ; who are accustomed to look upon him as one of them, and consequently not upon their guard before him. For a Minister, who only goes to the Court he resides at in form, to ask an audience of the Prince or the Minister, upon his last instructions, puts them upon their guard, and will never know any thing more than what they have a mind that he should know. Here women may be put to some use. A King's mistress, or a Minister's wife or mistress, may give great and useful informa- tions ; and are very apt to do it, being proud to show they have been trusted. But then in this case, the height of that sort of address, which strikes women, is requisite; I mean that easy politeness, genteel and graceful address, and that exterieur brilli- ant, which they cannot withstand. There is a sort of men so like women, that they are to be taken just in the same way ; I mean those who are commonly called^/me men ; who swarm at all Courts ; who have little reflection and less knowledge; but who, by their good breeding, and train-tran of the world, are admitted into all companies; and, by the impru- dence or carelessness of their superiors, pick up secrets worth knowing, which are easily got out of them by proper address. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 339 LETTER CXXXIII. DEAR BOY, Batll > October the 12th, O. S. 1748. I came here three days ago, upon account of a dis- order in my stomach, which affected my head, and gave me vertigos. I already find myself something better ; and consequently do not doubt, that a course of these waters will set me quite right. But how- ever and wherever I am, your welfare, your charac- ter, your knowledge, and your morals, employ my thoughts more than any thing that can happen to me, or that I can fear or hope for myself. I am going off the stage, you are coming upon it : with me, what has been, has been, and reflection now would come too late; with you, every thing is to come, even, in some manner, reflection itself: so that this is the very time when my reflections, the result of experience, may be of use to you, by supplying the want of yours. As soon as you leave Leipsig, you will gradually be going into the great world ; where the first impressions that you shall give of yourself will be of great importance to you ; but those which you shall receive will be decisive, for they always stick. To keep good company, especially at your first setting out, is the way to receive good impres- sions. If you ask me what I mean by good com- pany, I will confess to you, that it is pretty difficult to define ; but I will endeavour to make you under- stand it as well as I can. Good Company is not what respective sets of company are pleased either to call or think them- selves ; but it is that company which all the people of the place call, and acknowledge to be good com- pany, notwithstanding some objections which they may form to some of the individuals who compose 340 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S it. It consists chiefly (but by no means without ex- ception) of people of considerable birth, rank, and character : for people of neither birth nor rank are frequently and very justly admitted into it, if dis- tinguished by any peculiar merit, or eminency in any liberal art or science. Nay, so motley a thing is good company, that many people, without birth, rank, or merit, intrude into it by their own forward- ness, and others slide into it by the protection of some considerable person ; and some even of indif- ferent characters and morals make part of it. But, in the main, the good part preponderates, and people of infamous and blasted characters are never admit- ted. In this fashionable good company, the best manners and the best language of the place are most unquestionably to be learnt ; for they establish, and give the tone to both, which are therefore called the language and manners of good company; there being no legal tribunal to ascertain either. A company consisting wholly of people of the first quality cannot, for that reason, be called good company, in the common acceptation of the phrase, unless they are, into the bargain, the fashionable and accredited company of the place ; for people of the very first quality can be as silly, as ill bred, and as worthless, as people of the meanest degree. On the other hand, a company consisting entirely of people of very low condition, whatever their merit or parts may be, can never be called good company ; and consequently should not be much frequented, though by no means despised. A company wholly composed of men of learning, though greatly to be valued and respected, is not meant by the words good company: they cannot have the easy manners and tournure of the world, as they do not live in it. If you can bear your part well in such a company, it is extremely right to be in it sometimes, and you will be but more esteemed* LETTERS TO HIS SON. 341 in other companies, for having a place in that. But then do not let it engross you ; for if you do, you will be only considered as one of the litterati by profession ; which is not the way either to shine or rise in the world. The company of professed Wits and Poets is ex- tremely inviting to most young men ; who, if they have wit themselves, are pleased with it, and if they have none, are sillily proud of being one of it : but it should be frequented with moderation and judgment, and you should by no means give yourself up to it. A Wit is a very unpopular denomination, as it car- ries terror along with it ; and people in general are as much afraid of a live Wit, in company, as a woman is of a gun, which she thinks may go off of itself, and do her a mischief. Their acquaintance is, however, worth seeking, and their company worth frequenting ; but not exclusively of others, nor to such a degree as to be considered only as one of that particular set. But the company, which of all others you should most carefully avoid, is that low company, which, in every sense of the word, is low indeed ; low in rank, low in parts, low in manners, and low in merit. You will, perhaps, be surprised, that I should think it necessary to warn you against such company; but yet I do not think it wholly unnecessary, after the many instances which I have seen, of men of sense and rank, discredited, vilified, and undone, by keeping such company. Vanity, that source of many of our follies, and of some of our crimes, has sunk many a man into company, in every light infi- nitely below himself, for the sake of being the first man in it. There he dictates, is applauded, admired ; and, for the sake of being the Coryphceus of that wretched chorus, disgraces, and disqualifies himself soon for any better company. Depend upon it, you will sink or rise to the level of the company g g 2 342 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S which you commonly keep : people will judge of you, and not unreasonably, by that. There is good sense in the Spanish saying, " Tell me whom you live with, and I will tell you who you are." Make it therefore your business, wherever you are, to get into that company, which every body of the place allows to be the best company, next to their own : which is the best definition that I can give you of good company. But here, too, one caution is very necessary ; for want of which many young men have been ruined, even in good company. Good company (as I have before observed) is composed of a great variety of fashionable people, whose cha- racters and morals are very different, though their manners are pretty much the same. When a young man, new in the world, first gets into that company, he very rightly determines to conform to and imi- tate it. But then he too often, and fatally, mistakes the objects of his imitation. He has often heard that absurd term of genteel and fashionable vices. He there sees some people who shine, and who in general are admired and esteemed ; and observes, that these people are whoremasters, drunkards, or game- sters : upon which he adopts their vices, mistaking their defects for their perfections, and thinking that they owe their fashion and their lustre to those gen- teel vices. Whereas it is exactly the reverse; for these people have acquired their reputation by their parts, their learning, their good breeding, and other real accomplishments ; and are only blemished and lowered, in the opinions of all reasonable people, and of their own, in time, by these genteel and fashionable vices. A whoremaster, in a flux, or without a nose, is a very genteel person indeed ; and well worthy of imitation. A drunkard, vomiting up at night the wine of the day, and stupified by the headach all the next, is, doubtless, a fine model to copy from. And a gamester, tearing his hair, and LETTERS TO HIS SON. 343 blaspheming, for having lost more than he had in the world, is surely a most amiable character. No ; these are allays, and great ones too, which can never adorn any character, but will always debase the best. To prove this; suppose any man, without parts and some other good qualities, to be merely a whore- master, a drunkard, or a gamester; How will he be looked upon, by all sorts of people ? Why, as a most contemptible and vicious animal. Therefore it is plain, that, in these mixed characters, the good part only makes people forgive, but not approve, the bad. I will hope, and believe, that you will have no vices ; but if, unfortunately, you should have any, at least I beg of you to be content with your own, and to adopt no other body's. The adoption of vice has, I am convinced, ruined ten times more young men, than natural inclinations. As I make no difficulty of confessing my past errors, where I think the confession may be of use to you, I will own, that, when I first went to the university, I drank and smoked, notwithstanding the aversion I had to wine and tobacco, only because I thought it genteel, and that it made me look like a man. When I went abroad, I first went to the Hague, where gaming was much in fashion; and where I observed that many people, of shining rank and character, gamed too. I was then young enough, and silly enough, to believe, that gaming was one of their accomplishments ; and, as I aimed at perfec- tion, I adopted gaming as a necessary step to it. Thus I acquired, by error, the habit of a vice, which, far from adorning my character, has, I am conscious, been a great blemish in it. Imitate, then, with discernment and judgment, the real perfections of the good company into which you may get ; copy their politeness, their carriage, their address, and the easy and well bred turn of their 344 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S conversation; but remember, that, let them shine ever so bright, their vices, if they have any, are so many spots, which you would no more imitate, than you would make an artificial wart upon your face, because some very handsome man had the misfor- tune to have a natural one upon his : but, on the contrary, think how much handsomer he would have been without it. Having thus confessed some of my egaremens, I will now show you a little of my right side. I always endeavoured to get into the best company wherever I was, and commonly succeeded. There I pleased to some degree, by showing a desire to please. I took care never to be absent or distrait ; but, on the contrary, attended to every thing that was said, done, or even looked, in company : I never failed in the minutest attentions, and was never journalier. These things, and not my egaremens, made me fashionable. Adieu ! this letter is full long enough. LETTER CXXXIV. DEAR BOY, Bath, October the 19th, O. S. 1748. Having, in my last, pointed out what sort of com- pany you should keep, I will now give you some rules for your conduct in it ; rules which my own experience and observation enable me to lay down, and communicate to you, with some degree of con- fidence. I have often given you hints of this kind before, but then it has been by snatches ; I will now be more regular and methodical. I shall say nothing with regard to your bodily carriage and address, but leave them to the care of your dancing-master, and to your own attention to the best models : remember, however, that they are of consequence. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 345 Talk often, but never long ; in that case, if you do not please, at least you are sure not to tire your hearers. Pay your own reckoning, but do not treat the whole company ; this being one of the very few cases in which people do not care to be treated, every one being fully convinced that he has wherewithal to pay. Tell stories very seldom, and absolutely never but where they are very apt, and very short. Omit every circumstance that is not material, and beware of digressions. To have frequent recourse to narrative betrays great want of imagination. Never hold any body by the button, or the hand, in order to be heard out ; for, if people are not wil- ling to hear you, you had much better hold your tongue than them. Most long talkers single out some one unfortunate man in company (commonly him whom they ob- serve to be the most silent, or their next neighbour) to whisper, or at least, in a half voice, to convey a continuity of words to. This is excessively ill bred, and, in some degree, a fraud; conversation stock being a joint and common property. But, on the other hand, if one of these unmerciful talkers lays hold of you, hear him with patience (and at least seeming attention), if he is worth obliging ; for no- thing will oblige him more than a patient hearing, as nothing would hurt him more, than either to leave him in the midst of his discourse, or to discover your impatience under your affliction. Take rather than give, the tone of the company you are in. If you have parts, you will show them, more or less, upon every subject; and if you have not, you had better talk sillily upon a subject of other people's than of your own choosing. Avoid as much as you can, in mixed companies, argumentative, polemical conversations ; which, though they should not, yet certainly do, indispose, 346 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S for a time, the contending parties towards each other: and, if the controversy grows warm and noisy, endeavour to put an end to it, by some gen- teel levity or joke. I quieted such a conversation hubbub once, by representing to them, that, though I was persuaded none there present would repeat, out of company, what passed in it, yet I could not answer for the discretion of the passengers in the street, who must necessarily hear all that was said. Above all things, and upon all occasions, avoid speaking of yourself, if it be possible. Such is the natural pride and vanity of our hearts, that it perpe- tually breaks out, even in people of the best parts, in all the various modes and figures of the egotism. Some, abruptly, speak advantageously of them- selves, without either pretence or provocation. They are impudent. Others proceed more artfully, as they imagine ; and forge accusations against themselves, complain of calumnies which they never heard, in order to justify themselves, by exhibiting a cata- logue of their many virtues. They acknowledge it may, indeed, seem odd, that they should talk in that manner of themselves ; it is what they do not like, and what they never would have done; no, no tortures should ever have forced it from them, if they had not been thus unjustly and monstrously accused. But, in these cases, justice is surely due to one's self, as well as to others ; and, when our character is attacked, we may say, in our own justification, what otherwise we never would have said. This thin veil of Modesty, drawn before Vanity, is much too transparent to conceal it, even from very moderate discernment. Others go more modestly and more slily still (as they think) to work ; but, in my mind, still more ridiculously. They confess themselves (not without some degree of shame and confusion) into all the Cardinal Virtues; by first degrading them into weaknesses, and then owning their misfortune, in LETTERS TO HIS SON. 347 being made up of those weaknesses. They cannot see people suffer without sympathising with, and endea- vouring to help them. They cannot see people want, without relieving them : though, truly, their own cir- cumstances cannot very well afford it. They cannot help speaking truth, though they know all the impru- dence of it. In short, they know that, with all these weaknesses, they are not fit to live in the world, much less to thrive in it. 'But they are now too old to change, and must rub on as well as they can. This sounds too ridiculous and outre, almost, for the stage; and yet, take my word for it, you will frequently meet with it, upon the common stage of the world. And here I will observe, by the by, that you will often meet with characters in nature so extravagant, that a dis- creet Poet would not venture to set them upon the stage in their true and high colouring. This principle of vanity and pride is so strong in human nature, that it descends even to the lowest objects ; and one often sees people angling for praise, where, admitting all they say to be true (which, by the way, it seldom is), no just praise is to be caught. One man affirms that he has rode post a hundred miles in six hours: probably it is a lie; but sup- posing it to be true, what then ? Why he is a very good postboy, that is all. Another asserts, and pro- bably not without oaths, that he has drunk six or eight bottles of wine at a sitting : out of charity, I will believe him a liar ; for, if I do not, I must think him a beast. Such, and a thousand more, are the follies and extravagancies, which vanity draws people into, and which always defeat their own purpose: and, as Waller says, upon another subject, Make the wretch the most despised, Where most he wishes to be prized. The only sure way of avoiding these evils is, never 348 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S to speak of yourself at all. But when, historically, you are obliged to mention yourself, take care not to drop one single word, that can directly or indi- rectly be construed as fishing for applause. Be your character what it will, it will be known ; and nobody will take it upon your own word. Never imagine that any thing you can say yourself will varnish your defects, or add lustre to your perfec- tions ; but, on the contrary, it may, and nine times in ten will, make the former more glaring, and the latter obscure. If you are silent upon your own subject, neither envy, indignation, nor ridicule will obstruct or allay the applause which you may really deserve ; but if you publish your own panegyric, upon any occasion, or in any shape whatsoever, and however artfully dressed or disguised, they will all conspire against you, and you will be disappointed of the very end you aim at. Take care never to seem dark and mysterious; which is not only a very unamiable character, but a very suspicious one too: if you seem mysterious with others, they will be really so with you, and you will know nothing. The height of abilities is, to have volto sciolto, and pensieri stretti ; that is, a frank, open, and ingenuous exterior, with a prudent and reserved interior : to be upon your own guard, and yet, by a seeming natural openness, to put people off of theirs. Depend upon it, nine in ten of every company you are in, will avail themselves of every indiscreet and unguarded expression of yours, if they can turn it to their own advantage. A prudent re- serve is therefore as necessary, as a seeming openness is prudent. Always look people in the face when you speak to them ; the not doing it is thought to imply conscious guilt; besides that, you lose the advantage of observing by their countenances what impression your discourse makes upon them. In order to know people's real sentiments, I trust much LETTERS TO HIS SON. 349 more to my eyes than to my ears ; for they can say whatever they have a mind I should hear ; but they can seldom help looking what they have no inten- tion that I should know. Neither retail nor receive scandal, willingly ; for though the defamation of others may, for the present, gratify the malignity of the pride of our hearts, cool reflection will draw very disadvantageous conclusions from such a disposition : and in the case of scandal, as in that of robbery, the receiver is always thought as bad as the thief. Mimickry, which is the common and favourite amusement of little, low minds, is in the utmost contempt with great ones. It is the lowest and most illiberal of all buffoonery. Pray, neither practise it yourself, nor applaud it in others. Besides that, the person mimicked is insulted ; and, as I have often observed to you before, an insult is never forgiven. I need not (I believe) advise you to adapt your conversation to the people you are conversing with : for I suppose you would not, without this caution, have talked upon the same subject, and in the same manner, to a Minister of State, a Bishop, a Philoso- pher, a Captain, and a Woman. A man of the world must, like the Cameleon, be able to take every different hue ; which is by no means a criminal or abject, but a necessary complaisance, for it relates only to Manners, and not to Morals. One word only, as to swearing ; and that, I hope and believe, is more than is necessary. You may sometimes hear some people, in good company, interlard their discourse with oaths, by way of em- bellishment, as they think ; but you must observe, too, that those who do so are never those who con- tribute, in any degree, to give that company the denomination of good company. They are always subalterns, or people of low education; for that practice, besides that it has no one temptation to plead, is as silly, and as illiberal, as it is wicked. VOL. i. H H 350 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Loud laughter is the mirth of the mob, who are only pleased with silly things ; for true Wit or good Sense never excited a laugh, since the creation of the world. A man of parts and fashion is therefore only seen to smile, but never heard to laugh. But, to conclude this long letter; all the above- mentioned rules, however carefully you may observe them, will lose half their effect, if unaccompanied by the Graces. Whatever you say, if you say it with a supercilious, cynical face, or an embarrassed countenance, or a silly, disconcerted grin, will be ill received. If, into the bargain, you mutter it, or utter it indistinctly, and ungracefully, it will be still worse received. If your air and address are vulgar, awk- ward, and gauche, you may be esteemed indeed, if you have great intrinsic merit ; but you will never please : and, without pleasing, you will rise but hea- vily. Venus, among the Ancients, was synonymous with the Graces, who were always supposed to ac- company her : and Horace tells us, that even Youth, and Mercury, the God of Arts and Eloquence, would not do without her. — Parum comis sine te Juventas Mercuriusque, They are not inexorable Ladies, and may be had, if properly and diligently pursued. Adieu. LETTER CXXXV. , DEAR BOY, Bath, October 29th, O. S. 1748. My anxiety for your success increases, in proportion as the time approaches of your taking your part upon the great stage of the world. The audience will form their opinion of you upon your first appearance (making the proper allowance for your inexperience), LETTERS TO HIS SON. 351 and so far it will be final, that, though it may vary as to the degrees, it will never totally change. This consideration excites that restless attention, with which I am constantly examining how I can best contribute to the perfection of that character, in which the least spot or blemish would give me more real concern, than I am now capable of feeling upon any other account whatsoever. I have long since done mentioning your great Religious and Moral duties; because I could not make your understanding so bad a compliment, as to suppose that you wanted, or could receive, any new instructions upon those two important points. Mr. Harte, I am sure, has not neglected them ; be- sides, they are so obvious to common sense and reason, that commentators may (as they often do) perplex, but cannot make them clearer. My pro- vince, therefore, is to supply, by my experience, your, hitherto, inevitable inexperience, in the ways of the world. People at your age are in a state of natural ebriety; and want rails, and gardefous, wherever they go, to hinder them from breaking their necks. This drunkenness of youth is not only tolerated, but even pleases, if kept within certain bounds of discretion and decency. Those bounds are the point, which it is difficult for the drunken man himself to find out; and there it is that the experience of a friend may not only serve, but save him. Carry with you, and welcome, into company, all the gaiety and spirits, but as little of the giddiness, of youth as you can. The former will charm ; but the latter will often, though innocently, implacably offend. Inform yourself of the characters and situa- tions of the company, before you give way to what your imagination may prompt you to say. There are, in all companies, more wrong heads than right ones, and many more who deserve, than who like 352 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S censure. Should you therefore expatiate in the praise of some virtue, which some in company noto- riously want; or declaim against any vice, which others are notoriously infected with; your reflec- tions, however general and unapplied, will, by being- applicable, be thought personal, and levelled at those people. This consideration points out to you, suffi- ciently, not to be suspicious and captious yourself, nor to suppose that things, because they may, are therefore meant at you. The manners of well bred people secure one from those indirect and mean attacks ; but if, by chance, a flippant woman, or a pert coxcomb, lets off any thing of that kind, it is much better not to seem to understand, than to reply to it. Cautiously avoid talking of either your own or other people's domestic affairs. Yours are nothing to them, but tedious; theirs are nothing to you. The subject is a tender one; and it is odds but you touch somebody or other's sore place: for, in this case, there is no trusting to specious appearances; which may be, and often are, so contrary to the real situations of things, between men and their wives, parents and their children, seeming friends, &c. that, with the best intentions in the world, one often blunders disagreeably. Remember, that the wit, humour, and jokes of most mixed companies are local. They thrive in that particular soil, but will not often bear transplant- ing. Every company is differently circumstanced, has its particular cant, and jargon ; which may give occasion to wit and mirth, within that circle, but w ould seem flat and insipid in any other, and there- fore will not bear repeating. Nothing makes a man look sillier, than a pleasantry, not relished or not understood ; and if he meets with a profound silence, when he expected a general applause, or, what is worse, if he is desired to explain the ton mot, his LETTERS TO HIS SON. 353 awkward and embarrassed situation is easier ima- gined than described. A propos of repeating ; take great care never to repeat (I do not mean here the pleasantries) in one company what you hear in ano- ther. Things, seemingly indifferent, may, by circu- lation, have much graver consequences than you would imagine. Besides, there is a general tacit trust in conversation, by which a man is obliged not to report any thing out of it, though he is not imme- diately enjoined secrecy. A retailer of this kind is sure to draw himself into a thousand scrapes and discussions, and to be shyly and uncomfortably re- ceived, wherever he goes. You will find, in most good company, some people, who only keep their place there by a contemptible title enough ; these are what we call very good na- tured fellows, and the French, bons diables. The truth is, they are people without any parts or fancy, and who, having no will of their own, readily assent to, concur in, and applaud, whatever is said or done in the company ; and adopt, with the same alacrity, the most virtuous or the most criminal, the wisest or the silliest scheme, that happens to be entertained by the majority of the company. This foolish, and often criminal complaisance flows from a foolish cause; the want of any other merit. I hope you will hold your place in company by a nobler tenure, and that you will hold it (you can bear a quibble, I believe, yet) in capite. Have a will and an opinion of your own, and adhere to them steadily ; but then do it with good humour, good breeding, and (if you have it) with urbanity ; for you have not yet beard enough either to preach or censure. All other kinds of complaisance are not only blameless, but necessary in good company. Not to seem to perceive the little weaknesses, and the idle but innocent affectations of the company, but even to flatter them, in a certain manner, is not only very h h 2 354 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S allowable, but, in truth, a sort of polite duty. They will be pleased with you, if you do ; and will cer- tainly not be reformed by you, if you do not. For instance ; you will find, in every group of company, two principal figures, viz. the fine Lady and the fine Gentleman; who absolutely give the law of Wit, Language, Fashion, and Taste, to the rest of that society. There is always a strict, and often, for the time being, a tender alliance between these two figures. The Lady looks upon her empire as found- ed upon the divine right of Beauty (and full as good a divine right it is, as any King, Emperor, or Pope, can pretend to) ; she requires, and commonly meets with, unlimited passive obedience. And why should she not meet with it? Her demands go no higher, than to have her unquestioned preeminence in Beauty, Wit, and Fashion, firmly established. Few Sovereigns (by the way) are so reasonable. The tine Gentleman's claims of right are, mutatis mutandis, the same ; and though, indeed, he is not always a Wit de jure, yet, as he is the Wit de facto of that company, he is entitled to a share of your allegiance ; and every body expects, at least, as much as they are entitled to, if not something more. Prudence bids you make your court to these joint Sovereigns ; and no duty, that I know of, forbids it. Rebellion, here, is exceedingly dangerous, and inevitably punished by banishment, and immediate forfeiture of all your wit, manners, taste, and fashion : as, on the other hand, a cheerful submission, not without some flat- tery, is sure to procure you a strong recommendation, and most effectual pass, throughout all their, and probably the neighbouring dominions. With a mo- derate share of sagacity, you will, before you have been half an hour in their company, easily discover these two principal figures ; both by the deference which you will observe the whole company pay them, and by that easy, careless, and serene air, which LETTERS TO HIS SON. 355 their consciousness of power gives them. As in this case, so in all others, aim always at the highest; get always into the highest company, and address yourself particularly to the highest in it. The search after the unattainable philosopher's stone has occa- sioned a thousand useful discoveries, which other- wise would never have been made. What the French justly call les manieres nobles, are only to be acquired in the very best companies. They are the distinguishing characteristics of men of fashion : people of low education never wear them so close, but that some part or other of the original vulgarism appears. Les manieres nobles equally for- bid insolent contempt, or low envy and jealousy. Low people, in good circumstances, fine clothes, and equipages, will insolently show contempt for all those who cannot afford as fine clothes, as good an equipage, and who have not (as their term is) as much money in their pockets : on the other hand, they are gnawed with envy, and cannot help dis- covering it, of those who surpass them in any of these articles; which are far from being sure cri- terions of merit. They are, likewise, jealous of being slighted; and, consequently, suspicious and cap- tious : they are eager and hot about trifles ; because trifles were, at first, their affairs of consequence. Les manieres nobles imply exactly the reverse of all this. Study them early; you cannot make them too habitual and familiar to you. Just as I had written what goes before, I received your letter of the 24th, N. S. but I have not received that which you- mention from Mr. Harte. Yours is of the kind that I desire ; for I want to see your pri- vate picture, drawn by yourself, at different sittings : for though, as it is drawn by yourself, I presume you will take the most advantageous likeness ; yet, I think, I have skill enough in that kind of painting, 356 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S to discover the true features, though ever so artfully coloured, or thrown into skilful lights and shades. By your account of the German Play, which I do not know whether I should call Tragedy or Comedy, the only shining part of it (since I am in a way of quibbling) seems to have been the Fox's Tail. I presume, too, that the Play has had the same fate with the Squib, and has gone off no more. I re- member a squib much better applied, when it was made the device of the colours of a French regiment of grenadiers ; it was represented bursting, with this motto under it : Per earn dum luceam. I like the description of your Pic-nic; where, I take it for granted, that your cards are only to break the formality of a circle, and your Symposion in- tended more to promote conversation than drinking. Such an amicable collision, as Lord Shaftesbury very prettily calls it, rubs off and smooths those rough corners, which mere nature has given to the smooth- est of us. I hope some part, at least, of the conver- sation is in German. A apropos; tell me, do you speak that language correctly, and do you write it with ease? I have no doubt of your mastering the other modern languages, which are much easier, and occur much oftener ; for which reason, I desire you will apply most diligently to German, while you are in Germany, that you may speak and write that language most correctly. I expect to meet Mr. Eliot in London, in about three weeks, after which you will soon see him at Leipsig. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 357 LETTER CXXXVI. DEAR BOY, London, November the 18th, O. S. 1748. Whatever I see, or whatever I hear, my first con- sideration is, whether it can, in any way, be useful to you. As a proof of this, I went accidentally the other day into a print-shop ; where, among many others, I found one print from a famous design of Carlo Maratti, who died about thirty years ago, and was the last eminent painter in Europe : the subject is, il Studio del Disegno ; or, the School of Drawing. An old man, supposed to be the Master, points to his Scholars, who are variously employed, in Per- spective, Geometry, and the observation of the sta- tues of antiquity. With regard to Perspective, of which there are some little specimens ; he has wrote, Tanto che basti, that is, As much as is sufficient ; with regard to Geometry, Tanto che basti again ; with regard to the contemplation of the ancient statues, there is written, Non mai a bastanza; There never can be enough. But, in the clouds, at top of the piece, are represented the three Graces; with this just sentence written over them, Senza di noi ogni fatica e vana ; that is, Without us, all labour is vain. This, every body allows to be true, in painting; but all people do not seem to consider, as I hope you will, that this truth is full as applicable to every other art or science ; indeed to every thing that is to be said or done. I will send you the print itself, by Mr. Eliot, when he returns; and I will advise you to make the same use of it that the Roman Catholics say they do of the pictures and images of their saints ; which is, only to remind them of those; for the adoration they disclaim. Nay, I will go farther, and, as the transition from Popery to Paganism is 358 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S short and easy, I will classically and poetically ad- vise you to invoke, and sacrifice to them every day, and all the day. It must be owned, that the Graces do not seem to be natives of Great Britain ; and, I doubt, the best of us, here, have more of the rough than the polished diamond. Since barbarism drove them out of Greece and Rome, they seem to have taken refuge in France, where their temples are nu- merous, and their worship the established one. Ex- amine yourself seriously, why such and such people please and engage you, more than such and such others, of equal merit; and you will always find, that it is because the former have the Graces, and the latter not. I have known many a woman, with an exact shape, and a symmetrical assemblage of beautiful features, please nobody ; while others, with very moderate shapes and features, have charmed every body. Why ? because Venus will not charm so much, without her attendant Graces, as they will without her. Among men, how often have I seen the most solid merit and knowledge neglected, un- welcome, or even rejected, for want of them? While flimsy parts, little knowledge, and less merit, intro- duced by the Graces, have been received, cherished, and admired. Even virtue, which is moral beauty, wants some of its charms, if unaccompanied by them. If you ask me how you shall acquire what neither you nor I can define or ascertain ; I can only answer, By observation. Form yourself, with regard to others, upon what you feel pleases you, in them. I can tell you the importance, the advantage, of having the Graces; but I cannot give them you: I heartily wish I could, and I certainly would ; for I do not know a better present that I could make you. To show you that a very wise, philosophical, and re- tired man thinks upon that subject as I do, who have always lived in the world, I send you, by Mr. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 359 Eliot, the famous Mr. Locke's book upon Education ; in which you will find the stress that he lays upon the Graces, which he calls (and very truly) Good breeding. I have marked all the parts of that book, which are worth your attention; for as he begins with the child, almost from its birth, the parts rela- tive to its infancy would be useless to you. Ger- many is, still less than England, the seat of the Graces ; however you had as good not say so while you are there. But the place which you are going to, in a great degree, is ; for I have known as many well bred, pretty men come from Turin, as from any part of Europe. The late King Victor Amedee took great pains to form such of his subjects as were of any consideration, both to business and manners; the present King, I am told, follows his example : this, however, is certain, that in all Courts and Con- gresses, where there are various foreign Ministers, those of the King of Sardinia are generally the ablest, the politest, and les plus delies. You will therefore, at Turin, have very good models to form yourself upon ; and remember, that with regard to the best models, as well as to the antique Greek statues in the print, non mai a bastanza. Observe every word, look, and motion, of those who are allowed to be the most accomplished persons there. Observe their natural and careless, but genteel air; their unem- barrassed good breeding ; their unassuming, but yet unprostituted dignity. Mind their decent mirth, their discreet frankness, and that entregent, which, as much above the frivolous as below the important and the secret, is the proper medium for conversation in mixed companies. I will observe, by the by, that the talent of that light entregent is often of great use to a foreign Minister ; not only as it helps him to domesticate himself in many families, but also as it enables him to put by and parry some subjects of 360 LORD CHESTERFIELD* S conversation, which might possibly lay him under difficulties, both what to say, and how to look. Of all the men that ever I knew in my life (and I knew him extremely well), the late Duke of Marl- borough possessed the Graces in the highest degree, not to say engrossed them ; and indeed he got the most by them ; for I will venture (contrary to the custom of profound historians, who always assign deep causes for great events) to ascribe the better half of the Duke of Marlborough's greatness and riches to those Graces. He was eminently illiterate ; wrote bad English, and spelled it still worse. He had no share of what is commonly called Parts; that is, he had no brightness, nothing shining in his genius. He had, most undoubtedly, an excellent good plain understanding, with sound judgment. But these, alone, would probably have raised him but something higher than they found him ; which was Page to King James the Second's Queen. There the Graces protected and promoted him ; for, while he was an Ensign of the Guards, the Dutchess of Cleveland, then favourite mistress to King Charles' the Second, struck by those very Graces, gave him five thousand pounds ; with which he immediately bought an annuity for his life, of five hundred pounds a year, of my grandfather, Halifax ; which was the foundation of his subsequent fortune. His figure was beautiful ; but his manner was irresistible, by either man or woman. It was by this engaging, graceful manner, that he was enabled, during all his war, to connect the various and jarring Powers of the Grand Alliance, and to carry them on to the main object of the war, notwithstanding their private and separate views, jealousies, and wrongheaded- nesses. Whatever Court he went to (and he was often obliged to go himself to some resty and refrac- tory ones), he as constantly prevailed, and brought LETTERS TO HIS SON. 361 them into his measures. The Pensionary Heinsius, a venerable old Minister, grown gray in business, and who had governed the Republic of the United Provinces for more than forty years, was absolutely governed by the Duke of Marlborough, as that Re- public feels to this day. He was always cool ; and nobody ever observed the least variation in his coun- tenance : he could refuse more gracefully than other people could grant ; and those who went away from him the most dissatisfied, as to the substance of their business, were yet personally charmed with him, and, in some degree, comforted by his manner. With all his gentleness and gracefulness, no man living was more conscious of his situation, nor main- tained his dignity better. With the share of knowledge which you have already gotten, and with the much greater, which, I hope, you will soon acquire, what may you not expect to arrive at, if you join all these graces to itP In your destination particularly, they are, in truth, half your business ; for, if you can once gain the affections, as well as the esteem of the Prince or Minister of the Court to which you are sent, I will answer for it, that will effectually do the business of the Court that sent you ; otherwise, it is up-hill work. Do not mistake, and think, that these graces, which I so often and earnestly recommend to you, should only accompany important transactions, and be worn only les jours de gala : no ; they should, if possible, accompany every the least thing that you do or say ; for, if you neglect them in little things, they will leave you in great ones. I should, for instance, be extremely concerned to see you even drink a cup of coffee ungracefully, and slop yourself with it, by your awkward manner of holding it ; nor should I like to see your coat buttoned, nor your shoes buckled awry. But I should be outrageous, if I heard you mutter your words unintelligibly, stammer in your vol. I. I I 362 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S speech, or hesitate, misplace, and mistake in your narrations : and I should run away from you, with greater rapidity, if possible, than I should now run to embrace you, if I found you destitute of all those graces, w 7 hich I have set my heart upon their making you one day, omnibus ornatum excellere rebus. This subject is inexhaustible, as it extends to every thing that is to be said or done ; but I will leave it for the present, as this letter is already pretty long. Such is my desire, my anxiety for your perfection, that I never think I have said enough, though you may possibly think I have said too much ; and though, in truth, if your own good sense is not sufficient to direct you, in many of these plain points, all that I or any body else can say, will be insufficient. But, where you are concerned, I am the insatiable Man in Horace, who covets still a little corner more, to complete the figure of his field. I dread every little corner that may deform mine, in which I would have (if possible) no one defect. I this moment receive yours of the 17th, N. S. and cannot condole with you upon the secession of your German Commensaux ; who, both by your and Mr. Harte's description, seem to be des gens d'une aimable absence : and, if you can replace them by any other German conversation, you will be a gainer by the bargain. I cannot conceive, if you understand Ger- man well enough to read any German book, how the writing of the German character can be so diffi- cult and tedious to you, the twenty-four letters being very soon learned ; and I do not expect that you should write yet with the utmost purity and cor- rectness, as to the language : what I meant by your writing once a fortnight to Grevenkop, was only to make the written character familiar to you. How- ever, I will be content with one in three weeks, or so. I believe you are not likely to see Mr. Eliot again soon, he being still in Cornwall with his father; who, I hear, is not likely to recover. Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 363 LETTER CXXXVIL DEAR BOY, London, November the 29th, O. S. 1748. I delayed writing to you, till I could give you some account of the motions of your friend, Mr. Eliot; for whom I know you have, and very justly, the most friendly concern. His father and he came to town together, in a postchaise, a fortnight ago, the rest of the family remaining in Cornwall. His father, with difficulty, survived the journey, and died last Satur- day was sevennight. Both concern and decency confined your friend, till two days ago, when I saw him: he has determined, and, I think very pru- dently, to go abroad again ; but how soon, it is yet impossible for him to know ; as he must necessarily put his own private affairs in some order first : but I conjecture he may possibly join you at Turin; sooner, to be sure, not. I am very sorry that you are likely to be so long without the company and the example of so valuable a friend ; and therefore I hope that you will make it up to yourself, as well as you can at this distance, by remembering and fol- lowing his example. Imitate that application of his, which has made him know all thoroughly, and to the bottom. He does not content himself with the surface of knowledge ; but works in the mine for it, knowing that it lies deep. Pope says, very truly, in his Essay upon Criticism ; A little Learning is a dangerous thing ; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring. I shall send you by a ship that goes to Hamburgh next week (and by which Hawkins sends Mr. Harte some things that he wrote for) all those which I 364 LORD chesterfield's proposed sending you by Mr. Eliot ; together with a very little box, that I am desired to forward to Mr. Harte. There will be, likewise, two letters of recommendation for you to Monsieur Andrie, and Comte Algarotti, at Berlin, which you will take care to deliver to them, as soon as you shall be rigged and fitted out to appear there. They will introduce you into the best company ; and I depend upon your own good sense, for your avoiding of bad. If you fall into bad and low company there, or any where else, you will be irrecoverably lost ; whereas, if you keep good company, and company above yourself, your character and your fortune will be immoveably fixed. I have not time, to-day, upon account of the meet- ing of the Parliament, to make this letter of the usual length ; and indeed, after the volumes that I have written to you, all I can add must be unnecessary. However, I shall, probably, ex ahundanti, return soon to my former prolixity ; and you w ill receive more and more last words, from Yours. LETTER CXXXVIH. DEAR BOY, London, December the 6th, O. S. 1748. I am at present under very great concern for the loss of a most affectionate brother, with whom I had always lived in the closest friendship. My brother John died last Friday night, of a fit of the gout, which he had had for about a month in his hands and feet, and which fell at last upon his stomach and head. As he grew, towards the last, lethargic, his end was not painful to himself. At the distance which you are from hence, you need not go into LETTERS TO HIS SON. 365 mourning upon this occasion, as the time of your mourning would be near over, before you could put it on. By a ship which sails this week for Hamburgh, I shall send you those things which I proposed to have sent you by Mr. Eliot, viz. a little box from your Mamma; a less box for Mr. Harte; Mr. Locke's book upon Education ; the print of Carlo Maratti, which I mentioned to you some time ago ; and two letters of recommendation, one to Monsieur Andrie, and the other to Comte Algarotti, at Berlin. Both those gentlemen will, I am sure, be as willing as they are able, to introduce you into the best com- pany ; and I hope you will not (as many of your countrymen are apt to do) decline it. It is in the best companies only, that you can learn the best manners, and that tournure, and those graces, which I have so often recommended to you, as the neces- sary means of making a figure in the world. I am most extremely pleased with the account which Mr. Harte gives me of your progress in Greek, and of your having read Hesiod, almost critically. Upon this subject I suggest but one thing to you, of many that I might suggest ; which is, that you have now got over the difficulties of that language, and therefore it would be unpardonable not to persevere to your journey's end, now that all the rest of your way is down-hill. I am also very well pleased, to hear, that you have such a knowledge of, and taste for curious books, and scarce and valuable tracts. This is a kind of knowledge, which very well becomes a man of sound and solid learning, but which only exposes a man of slight and superficial reading ; therefore, pray make the substance and matter of such books your first object, and their title pages, indexes, letter, and binding, but your second. It is the charac- teristic of a man of parts, and good judgment, to i i 2 366 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S know, and give that degree of attention, that each object deserves. Whereas little minds mistake little objects for great ones, and lavish away upon the former that time and attention which only the latter deserve. To such mistakes we owe the numerous and frivolous tribe of insect-mongers, shell-mongers, and pursuers and driers of butterflies, &c. The strong mind distinguishes, not only between the useful and the useless, but likewise, between the useful and the curious. He applies himself in- tensely to the former ; he only amuses himself with the latter. Of this little sort of knowledge, which I have just hinted at, you will find, at least, as much as you need wish to know, in a superficial but pretty French book, entitled, Spectacle de la Nature ; which will amuse you while you read it, and give you a sufficient notion of the various parts of nature : I would advise you to read it, at leisure hours. But that part of nature, which, Mr. Harte tells me, you have begun to study, with the Rector magnijicus, is of much greater importance, and deserves much more attention ; I mean Astronomy. The vast and immense planetary system, the astonishing order and regularity of those innumerable worlds, will open a scene to you, which not only deserves your attention as a matter of curiosity, or rather astonish- ment; but, still more, as it will give you greater, and consequently juster ideas of that eternal and omnipotent Being, who contrived, made, and still preserves, that universe, than all the contemplation of this, comparatively, very little orb, which we at present inhabit, could possibly give you. Upon this subject, Monsieur Fontenelle's Pluralite des Mondes, which you may read in two hours time, will both inform and please you. God bless you ! Yours. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 367 LETTER CXXXIX. DEAR BOY, London, December the 13th, O. S. 1748. The last four posts have brought me no letters, either from you, or from Mr. Harte ; at which I am uneasy ; not as a Mamma would be, but as a Father should be ; for I do not want your letters as bills of health, you are young, strong, and healthy, and I am, consequently, in no pain about that : moreover, were either you or Mr. Harte ill, the other would doubtless write me word of it. My impatience for yours or Mr. Harte' s letters arises from a very dif- ferent cause, which is, my desire to hear frequently of the state and progress of your mind. You are now at that critical period of life, when every week ought to produce fruit or flowers answerable to your culture, which I am sure has not been neglected ; and it is by your letters, and Mr. Harte' s accounts of you, that, at this distance, I can only judge of your gradations to maturity : I desire, therefore, that one of you two will not fail to write to me once a week. The sameness of your present way of life, I easily conceive, would not make out a very interest- ing letter to an indifferent bystander ; but, so deeply concerned as I am in the game you are playing, every the least move is to me of importance, and helps me to judge of the final event. As you will be leaving Leipsig pretty soon after you shall have received this letter, I here send you one enclosed, to deliver to Mr. Mascow. It is to thank him for his attention and civility to you, during your stay with him : and I take it for granted, that you will not fail making him the proper com- pliments at parting ; for the good name that we leave behind, at one place, often gets before us to another, 368 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S and is of great use. As Mr. Mascow is much known and esteemed in the Republic of letters, I think it would be of advantage to you, if you got letters of recommendation from him to some of the learned men at Berlin. Those testimonials give a lustre, which is not to be despised ; for the most ignorant are forced to seem, at least, to pay a regard to learn- ing, as the most wicked are to virtue. Such is their intrinsic worth ! Your friend Duval dined with me the other day, and complained most grievously, that he had not heard from you of above a year ; I bade him abuse you for it himself ; and advised him to do it in verse, which, if he was really angry, his indignation would enable him to do. He accordingly brought me, yesterday, the enclosed reproaches, and chal- lenge, which he desired me to transmit to you. As this is his first Essay in English Poetry, the inaccu- racies in the rhymes, and the numbers, are very ex- cusable. He insists, as you will find, upon being answered in verse; which, I should imagine, that you and Mr. Harte, together, could bring about; as the late Lady Dorchester used to say, that she and Dr. Radcliffe, together, could cure a fever. This is however sure, that it now rests upon you ; and no man can say what methods Duval may take, if you decline his challenge. I am sensible that you are under some disadvantages in this proffered combat. Your climate, at this time of the year especially, de- lights more in the wood fire, than in the poetic fire ; and I conceive the Muses, if there are any at Leipsig, to be rather shivering, than singing ; nay, I question whether Apollo is even known there as God of Verse, or as God of Light ; perhaps a little, as God of Phy- sic. These will be fair excuses if your performance should fall something short ; though I do not appre- hend it will. While you have been at Leipsig, which is a place LETTERS TO HJS SON. 369 of study, more than of pleasure or company, you have had all opportunities of pursuing your studies uninterruptedly ; and have had, I believe, very few temptations to the contrary. But the case will be quite different at Berlin, where the splendour and dissipation of a Court, and the beau moude, will pre- sent themselves to you in gaudy shapes, attractive enough to all young people. Do not think, now, that, like an old fellow, I am going to advise you to reject them, and shut yourself up in your closet: quite the contrary ; I advise you to take your share, and enter into them with spirit and pleasure ; but then I advise you, too, to allot your time so pru- dently, as that learning may keep pace with plea- sures; there is full time, in the course of the day, for both, if you do but manage that time right, and like a good economist. The whole morning, if dili- gently and attentively devoted to solid studies, will go a great way at the year's end ; and the evenings spent in the pleasures of good company, will go as far in teaching you a knowledge, not much less ne- cessary than the other; I mean the knowledge of the world. Between these two necessary studies, that of Books in the morning, and that of the World in the evening, you see that you will not have one minute to squander or slattern away. Nobody ever lent themselves more than I did, when I was young, to the pleasures and dissipation of good company ; I even did it too much. But then, I can assure you, that I always found time for serious studies ; and, when I could find it no other way, I took it out of my sleep ; for I resolved always to rise early in the morning, however late I went to bed at night ; and this resolution I have kept so sacred, that, unless when I have been confined to my bed by illness, I have not for more than forty years, ever been in bed at nine o'clock in the morning ; but commonly up before eight. 370 LORD chesterfield's When you are at Berlin, remember to speak Ger- man, as often as you can, in company: for every body there will speak French to you, unless you let them know that you can speak German, which then they will choose to speak. Adieu. LETTER CXL. DEAR BOY, London, December the 20th, O. S. 1748. I received, last Saturday, by three mails which came in at once, two letters from Mr. Harte, and yours of the 8th, N. S. It was I who mistook your meaning, with regard to your German letters, and not you who expressed it ill. I thought it was the writing of the German character that took up so much of your time, and therefore I advised you, by the frequent writing of that character, to make it easy and familiar to you. But, since it is only the propriety and purity of the German language, which make your writing it so tedious and laborious, I will tell you I shall not be nice upon that article ; and did not expect you should yet be master of all the idioms, delicacies, and pe- culiarities of that difficult language. That can only come by use, especially frequent speaking; there- fore, when you shall be at Berlin, and afterwards at Turin, where you will meet many Germans, pray take all opportunities of conversing in German, in order not only to keep what you have got of that language, but likewise to improve and perfect your- self in it. As to the characters, you form them very well, and, as you yourself own, better than your English ones ; but then, let me ask you this ques- tion ; Why do you not form your Roman characters better? for I maintain, that it is in every man's LETTERS TO HIS SON. 371 power lo write what hand he pleases; and, conse- quently, that he ought to write a good one. You form, particularly, your and your in zigzag, instead of making them straight, as thus, ee 11; a fault very easily mended. You will not, I believe, be angry with this little criticism, when I tell you, that, by all the accounts I have had of late, from Mr. Harte and others, this is the only criticism that you give me occasion to make. Mr. Harte' s last letter, of the 14th, N. S. particularly, makes me extremely happy, by assuring me, that, in every respect, you do exceedingly well. I am not afraid, by what I now say, of making you too vain ; because I do not think that a just consciousness, and an honest pride of doing well, can be called vanity ; for vanity is either the silly affectation of good qualities which one has not, or the sillier pride of what does not deserve commendation in itself. By Mr. Harte' s account you are got very near the goal of Greek and Latin ; and therefore I cannot suppose that, as your sense increases, your endeavours and your speed will slacken, in finishing the small remains of your course. Consider what lustre and eclat it will give you, when you return here, to be allowed to be the best scholar, of a gentleman, in England; not to mention the real pleasure and solid comfort which such knowledge will give you throughout your whole life. Mr. Harte tells me another thing, which, I own, I did not expect; it is, that when you read aloud, or repeat part of plays, you speak very pro- perly and distinctly. This relieves me from great uneasiness, which I was under upon account of your former bad enunciation. Go on, and attend most diligently to this important article. It is, of all the Graces, (and they are all necessary) the most neces- sary one. Comte Pertingue, who has been here about a fort- night, far from disavowing, confirms all that Mr. 372 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S Harte has said to your advantage. He thinks he shall be at Turin much about the time of your arrival there, and pleases himself with the hopes of being useful to you : though, should you get there before him, he says that Comte du Perron, with whom you are a favourite, will take that care. You see, by this one instance, and, in the course of your life, you will see by a million of instances, of what use a good reputation is, and how swift and advantageous a harbinger it is, wherever one goes. Upon this point, too, Mr. Harte does you justice, and tells me, that you are desirous of praise from the praiseworthy : this is a right and generous ambition ; and without which, I fear, few people would deserve praise. But here let me, as an old stager upon the theatre of the world, suggest one consideration to you; which is, to extend your desire of praise a little be- yond the strictly praiseworthy ; or else you may be apt to discover too much contempt for at least three parts in five of the world ; who will never forgive it you. In the mass of mankind, I fear, there is too great a majority of fools and knaves; who, singly from their number, must to a certain degree be re- spected, though they are by no means respectable. And a man, who will show every knave or fool, that he thinks him such, will engage in a most ruinous war, against numbers much superior to those that he and his allies can bring into the field. Abhor a knave, and pity a fool, in your heart ; but let neither of them, unnecessarily, see that you do so. Some complaisance and attention to fools is prudent, and not mean : as a silent abhorrence of individual knaves is often necessary, and not criminal. As you will now soon part with Lord Pulteney, with whom, during your stay together at Leipsig, I suppose you have formed a connection ; I imagine that you will continue it by letters, which I would advise you to do. They tell me he is good natured, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 373 and does not want parts ; which are of themselves two good reasons for keeping it up; but there is also a third reason, which, in the course of the world, is not to be despised : his father cannot live long, and will leave him an immense fortune ; which, in all events, will make him of some consequence, and, if he has parts into the bargain, of very great conse- quence ; so that his friendship may be extremely well worth your cultivating, especially as it will not cost you above one letter in one month. I do not know whether this letter will find you at Leipsig ; at least, it is the last that I shall direct there. My next, to either you or Mr. Harte, will be directed to Berlin ; but, as I do not know to what house or street there, I suppose it will remain at the post-house till you send for it. Upon your arrival at Berlin, you will send me your particular direc- tion ; and also, pray be minute in your accounts of your reception there, by those whom I recommend you to, as well as by those to whom they present you. Remember, too, that you are going to a polite and literate Court, where the Graces will best introduce you. Adieu. God bless you ! and may you continue to deserve my love, as much as you now enjoy it ! P. S. Lady Chesterfield bids me tell you, that she decides entirely in your favour, against Mr. Greven- kop, and even against herself; for she does not think that she could at this time, write either so good a character, or so good German. Pray write her a German letter upon that subject ; in which you may tell her, that, like the rest of the world, you approve of her judgment, because it is in your favour ; and that you true Germans cannot allow Danes to be competent judges of your language, &c. VOL, I. K K 374 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER CXLL DEAR BOY, London, December the 30th, O. S. 1748. I direct this letter to Berlin, where, I suppose, it will either find you, or, at least, wait but a very little time for you. I cannot help being anxious for your success, at this your first appearance upon the great stage of the world ; for, though the spectators are always candid enough to give great allowances, and to show great indulgence to a new actor, yet from the first impressions which he makes upon them, they are apt to decide, in their own minds at least, whe- ther he will ever be a good one or not : if he seems to understand what he says, by speaking it properly ; if he is attentive to his part, instead of staring negli- gently about; and if, upon the whole, he seems, ambitious to please, they willingly pass over little awkwardnesses and inaccuracies, which they ascribe to a commendable modesty in a young and unex- perienced actor. They pronounce that he will be a good one in time : and, by the encouragement which they give him, make him so the sooner. This, I hope, will be your case : you have sense enough to understand your part; a constant attention, and ambition to excel in it, with a careful observation of the best actors, will inevitably qualify you, if not for the first, at least for considerable parts. Your dress (as insignificant a thing as dress is in itself) is now become an object worthy of some at- tention ; for, I confess, I cannot help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character from his dress ; and, I believe, most people do as well as my- self. Any affectation whatsoever in dress implies, in my mind, a flaw in the understanding. Most of our young fellows, here, display some character or LETTERS TO HIS SON. 375 other by their dress; some affect the tremendous, and wear a great and fiercely cocked hat, an enor- mous sword, a short waistcoat, and a black cravat : these I should be almost tempted to swear the peace against, in my own defence, if I were not convinced that they are but meek asses in lions' skins. Others go in brown frocks, leather breeches, great oaken cudgels in their hands, their hats uncocked, and their hair unpowdered ; and imitate grooms, stage-coach- men, and country bumpkins, so well in their out- sides, that I do not make the least doubt of their resembling them equally in their insides. A man of sense carefully avoids any particular character in his dress ; he is accurately clean for his own sake ; but all the rest is for other people's. He dresses as well, and in the same manner, as the people of sense and fashion of the place where he is. If he dresses better, as he thinks, that is, more than they, he is a fop ; if he dresses worse, he is unpardonably negli- gent : but, of the two, I would rather have a young fellow too much than too little dressed ; the excess on that side will wear off, with a little age and re- flection ; but, if he is negligent at twenty, he will be a sloven at forty, and stink at fifty years old. Dress yourself fine, where others are fine ; and plain, where others are plain ; but take care, always, that your clothes are well made, and fit you, for other- wise they will give you a very awkward air. When you are once well dressed, for the day, think no more of it afterwards ; and, without any stiffness for fear of discomposing that dress, let all your motions be as easy and natural as if you had no clothes on at all. So much for dress, which I maintain to be a thing of consequence in the polite world. As to Manners, Good Breeding, and the Graces, I have so often entertained you upon these important subjects, that I can add nothing to what I have for- merly said. Your own good sense will suggest to 376 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S you the substance of them; and observation, expe- rience, and good company, the several modes of them. Your great vivacity, which I hear of from many people, will be no hinderance to your pleasing in good company ; on the contrary, will be of use to you, if tempered by Good Breeding, and accompanied by the Graces. But then, I suppose your vivacity to be a vivacity of parts, and not a constitutional restlessness ; for the most disagreeable composition that I know, in the world, is that of strong animal spirits, with a cold genius. Such a fellow is trouble- somely active, frivolously busy, foolishly lively ; talks much, with little meaning, and laughs more, with less reason : whereas, in my opinion, a warm and lively genius, with a cool constitution, is the perfection of human nature. Do what you will, at Berlin, provided you do but do something all day long. All that I desire of you is, that you will never slattern away one minute in idleness and in doing nothing. When you are not in company, learn what either books, masters, or Mr. Harte, can teach you ; and, when you are in company, learn (what company only can teach you) the characters and manners of mankind. I really ask your pardon for giving you this advice ; because, if you are a rational creature, and a think- ing being, as I suppose, and verily believe you are, it must be unnecessary, and to a certain degree, injurious. If I did not know by experience, that some men pass their whole time in doing nothing, I should not think it possible for any Being, superior to Monsieur Descartes's Automatons, to squander away, in absolute idleness, one single minute of that small portion of time which is allotted us in this world. I have lately seen one Mr. Cranmer, a very sen- sible merchant; who told me he had dined with you, and seen you often at Leipsig. And, yester- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 377 day, I saw an old footman of mine, whom I made a Messenger; who told me that he had seen you last August. You will easily imagine, that I was not the less glad to see them, because they had seen you ; and I examined them both narrowly, in their respective departments ; the former, as to your mind, the latter, as to your body. Mr. Cranmer gave me great satisfaction, not only by what he told me of himself concerning you, but by what he was commissioned to tell me from Mr. Mascow. As he speaks German perfectly himself, I asked him how you spoke it ; and he assured me very well, for the time, and that a very little more practice would make you perfectly master of it. The messenger told me, you were much grown, and to the best of his guess, within two inches as tall as I am. That you were plump, and looked healthy and strong ; which was all I could expect, or hope, from the sagacity of the person. I send you, my dear child, (and you will not doubt) very sincerely, the wishes of the season. May you deserve a great number of happy New- years ; and, if you deserve, may you have them ! Many New-years, indeed, you may see, but happy ones you cannot see without deserving them. These, Virtue, Honour, and Knowledge, alone can merit, alone can procure. Dii tibi dent annos, de te nam ccetera sumes, was a pretty piece of poetical flattery, where it was said ; I hope that, in time, it may be no flattery when said to you. But, I assure you, that, whenever I cannot apply the latter part of the line to you with truth, I shall neither say, think, nor wish the former. Adieu. k k 2 378 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTER CXLTI. DEAR BOY, London, January the 10th, O. S. 1^49. 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 in- side 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, &c. 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 LETTERS TO HIS SON. 379 lavishness of negligence and laziness. A fool squan- ders 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 ration- ally 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 toy-shop ; snuff-boxes, watches, heads of canes, &c. are his destruction. His servants and trades- men 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 him- self 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 every thing you buy, and avoid bills. Pay that money too, your- self, 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, &c.) 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, &c. they are unworthy of the time, and of the ink, that they would consume ; leave such minuties 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 380 LORD chesterfield's 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 two pence, who was undoing himself, at the same time, by living above his income, and not attending to essential articles, which were above his for tee. The sure characteristic of a sound and strong mind is, to find, in every thing, 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 vul- gar 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 poize 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. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 381 During your stay at Berlin, I expect that you should inform yourself thoroughly of the present state of the Civil, Military, and Ecclesiastical go- vernment of the King of Prussia's dominions ; par- ticularly 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 exer- cise, 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 noncommissioned Officers in the several troops and companies ; and also, take care to leam the technical military terms, in the German language : for, though you are not to be a military man, yet these military matters are so fre- quently the subjects of conversation, that you will look very awkwardly, if you are ignorant of them. Moreover, they are commonly the objects of negotia- tion, 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 lawsuits: a great work, and worthy of so great a Prince ! As he is in- disputably 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 be- ginning 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 reflec- tions, those two Princes will furnish you with sufficient matter for them. I would have you endeavour 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 \ 382 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S 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 Cagnoni, 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 CXLIII. DEAR BOY, London, January the 24th, O. S. 1749. 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 whom, 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 LETTERS TO HIS SON. 383 poetry in that situation ; and not less judicious, in declining the borrowed aid of a stove, whose fumi- gation, 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 single combat. You may, if you please, and therefore I flatter my- self that you will, profit considerably by your stay at Berlin, in the articles of Manners, and useful know- ledge. 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 most 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 super- ficial 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, &c. they content themselves with the first coup d'ceil, 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 Subalterns ; how many Bas Officiers,ox noncommissioned Officers, as Sergeants, Corporals, Anspessades, frey Corporals, fyc. their pay, their clothing, and by whom ; whe- 384 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S ther by the Colonels or Captains, or Commissaries appointed for that purpose ; to whom they are ac- countable; the method of recruiting, completing, &c. The same in Civil Matters : inform yourself of the jurisdiction of a Court of Justice; of the rules and members, and endowments of a College, or an Academy, and not only of the dimensions of the respective edifices : and let your letters to me con- tain 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, by 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 CXLIV. DEAR BOY, London, February the 7th, O. S. 1749. 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 con- fess (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, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 385 partly from laziness, partly from dissipation, and partly from the mauvaise horde 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 reason- ing 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 distin- guish habits, early acquired and long entertained, from the result of our reason and reflection. My first prejudice (for I do not mention the pre- judices of boys and women, such as hobgoblins, ghosts, dreams, spilling salt, &c.) 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 com- mon honesty in the world for these last fifteen hun- dred 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 phi- losopher, 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 VOL. I. L L 386 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S better, braver, or wiser, fifteen hundred or three thou- sand 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 favourers 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 defence of it, because he had quarrelled with Aga- memnon about a w e; and then afterwards, 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 armour in the world ; which I humbly apprehend to be a blunder; for a horseshoe clapped to his vulnerable heel would have been sufficient. On the other hand, with submission to the favourers of the moderns, I assert with Mr. Dryden, that the Devil is in truth the Hero of Mil- ton'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 favour of the former; vanity and ignorance, as peremptorily, in favour of the latter. Religious pre- judices 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 sin- cere, we are both blameless : and should consequently have mutual indulgence for each other. The next prejudices I adopted were those of the LETTERS TO HIS SON. 387 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 farther 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 gentle- man, 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 analyse every thing, in order to form a sound and mature judgment ; let no sroe etya 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. Con- sult 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 impli- citly; 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 gene- ral, 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 388 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S 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 Chilling worth. The idle story of the Pretender's having been in- troduced in a warmingpan, into the Queen's bed, though as destitute of all probability as of all foun- dation, has been much more prejudicial to the cause of Jacobitism, than all that Mr. Locke and others have written, to show the unreasonableness and ab- surdity 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 English- man, in reality, to beat two. A Frenchman ventures his life with alacrity pour Vhonneur 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 Men de la Patrie, he would very probably run away. Such gross, local preju- dices prevail with the herd of mankind ; and do not impose upon cultivated, informed, and reflecting minds: but then there are notions equally false, though not so glaringly absurd, which are enter- tained by people of superior and improved under- standings, 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 flou- rish under an absolute government ; and that Genius must necessarily be cramped where Freedom is re- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 389 strained. This sounds plausible, but is false in fact. Mechanic arts, as Agriculture, Manufactures, &c. 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 sub- jects 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 who hinders them from thinking as they please? If, indeed, they think in a manner destructive of all religion, morality, or good manners, or to the dis- turbance 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 L L 2 390 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S and worthless Emperor. The revival of letters was not owing, either, to any free government, but to the encouragement and protection of Leo X. and Fran- cis 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 preju- dice, I am speaking in favour 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 CXLV. DEAR BOY, London, February the 28th, O. S. 1749. 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 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 em- barrassed, 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 tit 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, LETTERS TO HIS SON. 391 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 stu- dies, 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 any body ; at noon, be- have yourself better than any person at Court ; and, in the evenings, trifle more agreeably than any body in mixed companies ? All this you may compass if you please ; you have the means, you have the oppor- tunities. 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 enclosed, a letter of recommenda- tion to Monsieur Capello, at Venice, which you will deliver him immediately upon your arrival, accom- panying it with compliments from me to him, and Madame ; both 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 afterwards 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. You will stay at Venice as long as the Carnival lasts; for though I am impatient to have you at Turin, yet I would wish you to see thoroughly all that is to be seen at so singular a place as Venice, 392 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S and at so showish a time as the Carnival. You will take, also, particular care to view all those meetings of the government, which strangers are allowed to see ; as the Assembly of the Senate, &c. ; and like- wise, to inform yourself of that peculiar and intricate form of government. There are books that give an account of it, among which, the best is Amelot de la Houssaye: this I would advise you to read previ- ously ; it will not only give you a general notion of that constitution, but also furnish you with materials for proper questions and oral informations upon the place, which are always the best. There are like- wise many very valuable remains, in sculpture and paintings of the best masters, which deserve your attention. I suppose you will be at Vienna as soon as this letter will get thither; and I suppose, too, that I must not direct above one more to you there. After which, my next shall be directed to you at Venice, the only place where a letter will be likely to find you, till you are at Turin ; but you may, and I de- sire that you will write to me, from the several places in your way, from whence the post goes. I will send you some other letters, for Venice, to Vienna, or to your Banker at Venice ; to whom you will, upon your arrival there, send for them : for I will take care to have you so recommended from place to place, that you shall not run through them, as most of your countrymen do, without the advan- tage of seeing and knowing what best deserves to be seen and known; I mean, the Men and the Man- ners. God bless you, and make you answer my wishes ; I will now say, my hopes ! Adieu. LETTERS TO HIS SON. 393 LETTER CXLVI. DEAR BOY, I direct this letter to your Banker at Venice, the surest place for you to meet with it, though I sup- pose it will be there some time before you ; for, as your intermediate stay any where else will be but short, and as the post from hence, in this season of Easterly winds, is uncertain, I direct no more letters to Vienna ; where I hope both you and Mr. Harte will have received the two letters which I sent you respectively; with a letter of recommendation to Monsieur Capello at Venice, which was enclosed in mine to you. I will suppose too, that the inland post, on your side of the water, has not done you justice ; for I received but one single letter from you, and one from Mr. Harte, during your whole stay at Berlin ; from whence I hoped for, and expected very particular accounts. I persuade myself, that the time you stay at Venice, will be properly employed, in seeing all that is to be seen at that extraordinary place ; and in conversing with people who can inform you, not of the raree- shows of the town, but of the constitution of the government ; for which purpose, I send you the enclosed letters of recommendation from Sir James Gray, the King's Resident at Venice; but who is now in England. These, with mine to Monsieur Capello, will carry you, if you will go, into all the best company at Venice. But the important point, and the important place, is Turin ; for there I propose your staying a consider- able time, to pursue your studies, learn your exercises, and form your manners. I own, I am not without my anxiety for the consequence of your stay there ; 394 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S which must be either very good or very bad. To you it will be entirely a new scene. Wherever you have hitherto been, you have conversed, chiefly, with people wiser and discreeter than yourself; and have been equally out of the way of bad advice or bad example ; but, in the Academy at Turin, you will, probably meet with both, considering the variety of young fellows of about your own age; among whom, it is to be expected that some will be dissipated and idle, others vicious and profligate. I will believe, till the contrary appears, that you have sagacity enough to distinguish the good from the bad characters; and both sense and virtue enough to shun the latter, and connect yourself with the former: but, however, for greater security, and for your sake alone, I must acquaint you, that I have sent positive orders to Mr. Harte, to carry you off, instantly, to a place which I have named to him, upon the very first symptom, which he shall dis- cover in you, of Drinking, Gaming, Idleness, or Dis- obedience to his orders ; so that, whether Mr. Harte informs me, or not, of the particulars, I shall be able to judge of your conduct in general, by the time of your stay at Turin. If it is short, I shall know why ; and I promise you, that you shall soon find that I do: but, if Mr. Harte lets you continue there, as long as I propose you should, I shall then be con- vinced, that you make the proper use of your time ; which is the only thing I have to ask of you. One year is the most that I propose you should stay at Turin ; and that year, if you employ it well, perfects you. One year more of your late application, with Mr. Harte, will complete your Classical studies. You will be, likewise, master of your exercises in that time ; and will have formed yourself so well at that Court, as to be fit to appear advantageously at any other. These will be the happy effects of your year's stay at Turin, if you behave, and apply your- LETTERS TO HIS SON. 395 self there as you have done at Leipsig ; but, if either ill advice, or ill example, affect and seduce you, you are ruined for ever. I look upon that year as your decisive year of probation ; go through it well, and you will be all accomplished, and fixed in my ten- derest affection for ever : but, should the contagion of vice or idleness lay hold of you there, your cha- racter, your fortune, my hopes, and, consequently, my favour, are all blasted, and you are undone. The more I love you now, from the good opinion that I have of you, the greater will be my indignation, if I should have reason to change it. Hitherto you have had every possible proof of my affection, be- cause you have deserved it : but, when you cease to deserve it, you may expect every possible mark of my resentment. To leave nothing doubtful, upon this important point, I will tell you fairly, before- hand, by what rule I shall judge of your conduct. By Mr. Harte' s accounts. He will not, I am sure, nay, I will say more, he cannot be in the wrong with regard to you. He can have no other view but your good ; and you will I am sure allow, that he must be a better judge of it than you can possibly be, at your age. While he is satisfied, I shall be so too ; but whenever he is dissatisfied with you, I shall be much more so. If he complains, you must be guilty ; and I shall not have the least regard for any thing that you may allege in your own defence. I will now tell you what I expect and insist upon from you at Turin: First, That you pursue your Classical and other studies, every morning, with Mr. Harte, as long, and in whatever manner Mr. Harte shall be pleased to require: Secondly, That you learn, uninterruptedly, your exercises, of riding, dancing, and fencing: Thirdly, That you make yourself master of the Italian language : and lastly, That you pass your evenings in the best company. I also require a strict conformity to the hours and 396 LORD chesterfield's letters. rules of the x\caclemy. If you will but finish your year in this manner at Turin, I have nothing further to ask of you ; and I will give you every thing that you can ask of me : you shall after that be entirely your own master ; I shall think you safe ; shall lay aside all authority over you ; and friendship shall be our mutual and only tie. Weigh this I beg of you deliberately, in your own mind ; and consider, whe- ther the application, and the degree of restraint, which I require but for one year more, will not be amply repaid by all the advantages, and the perfect liberty, which you will receive at the end of it. Your own good sense will, I am sure, not allow you to hesitate one moment in your choice. God bless you! Adieu. P. S. Sir James Gray's letters not being yet sent me, as I thought they would, I shall enclose them in my next, which, I believe, will get to Venice as soon as you. END OF VOL. I. C. and C. Whittingham, Chiswick. GETTY RESEARCH INSTITUTE 3 3125 01063 0719 r