LONDON, June 21, O. S. 1748.
DEAR BOY: Your very bad enunciation runs so much in my head, and gives me
such real concern, that it will be the subject of this, and, I believe,
of many more letters. I congratulate both you and myself, that, was
informed of it (as I hope) in time to prevent it: and shall ever think
myself, as hereafter you will, I am sure think yourself, infinitely
obliged to Sir Charles Williams for informing me of it. Good God! if this
ungraceful and disagreeable manner of speaking had, either by your
negligence or mine, become habitual to you, as in a couple of years more
it would have been, what a figure would you have made in company, or in a
public assembly? Who would have liked you in the one or attended you; in
the other? Read what Cicero and Quintilian say of enunciation, and see
what a stress they lay upon the gracefulness of it; nay, Cicero goes
further, and even maintains, that a good figure is necessary for an
orator; and particularly that he must not be vastus, that is, overgrown
and clumsy. He shows by it that he knew mankind well, and knew the powers
of an agreeable figure and a graceful, manner. Men, as well as women, are
much oftener led by their hearts than by their understandings. The way to
the heart is through the senses; please their eyes and their ears and the
work is half done. I have frequently known a man’s fortune decided for
ever by his first address. If it is pleasing, people are hurried
involuntarily into a persuasion that he has a merit, which possibly he
has not; as, on the other hand, if it is ungraceful, they are immediately
prejudiced against him, and unwilling to allow him the merit which it may
be he has. Nor is this sentiment so unjust and unreasonable as at first
it may seem; for if a man has parts, he must know of what infinite
consequence it is to him to have a graceful manner of speaking, and a
genteel and pleasing address; he will cultivate and improve them to the
utmost. Your figure is a good one; you have no natural defect in the
organs of speech; your address may be engaging, and your manner of
speaking graceful, if you will; so that if you are not so, neither I nor
the world can ascribe it to anything but your want of parts. What is the
constant and just observation as to all actors upon the stage? Is it not,
that those who have the best sense, always speak the best, though they
may happen not to have the best voices? They will speak plainly,
distinctly, and with the proper emphasis, be their voices ever so bad.
Had Roscius spoken QUICK, THICK, and UNGRACEFULLY, I will answer for it,
that Cicero would not have thought him worth the oration which he made in
his favor. Words were given us to communicate our ideas by: and there
must be something inconceivably absurd in uttering them in such a manner
as that either people cannot understand them, or will not desire to
understand them. I tell you, truly and sincerely, that I shall judge of
your parts by your speaking gracefully or ungracefully. If you have
parts, you will never be at rest till you have brought yourself to a
habit of speaking most gracefully; for I aver, that it is in your power
--You will desire Mr. Harte, that you may read aloud to him every day;
and that he will interrupt and correct you every time that you read too
fast, do not observe the proper stops, or lay a wrong emphasis. You will
take care to open your teeth when you speak; to articulate every word
distinctly; and to beg of Mr. Harte, Mr. Eliot, or whomsoever you speak
to, to remind and stop you, if you ever fall into the rapid and
unintelligible mutter. You will even read aloud to yourself, and time
your utterance to your own ear; and read at first much slower than you
need to do, in order to correct yourself of that shameful trick of
speaking faster than you ought. In short, if you think right, you will
make it your business; your study, and your pleasure to speak well.
Therefore, what I have said in this, and in my last, is more than
sufficient, if you have sense; and ten times more would not be
sufficient, if you have not; so here I rest it.
Next to graceful speaking, a genteel carriage, and a graceful manner of
presenting yourself, are extremely necessary, for they are extremely
engaging: and carelessness in these points is much more unpardonable in a
young fellow than affectation. It shows an offensive indifference about
pleasing. I am told by one here, who has seen you lately, that you are
awkward in your motions, and negligent of your person: I am sorry for
both; and so will you be, when it will be too late, if you continue so
some time longer. Awkwardness of carriage is very alienating; and a total
negligence of dress and air is an impertinent insult upon custom and
fashion. You remember Mr.------very well, I am sure, and you must
consequently remember his, extreme awkwardness: which, I can assure you,
has been a great clog to his parts and merit, that have, with much
difficulty, but barely counterbalanced it at last. Many, to whom I have
formerly commended him, have answered me, that they were sure he could
not have parts, because he was so awkward: so much are people, as I
observed to you before, taken by the eye. Women have great influence as
to a man’s fashionable character; and an awkward man will never have
their votes; which, by the way, are very numerous, and much oftener
counted than weighed. You should therefore give some attention to your
dress, and the gracefulness of your motions. I believe, indeed, that you
have no perfect model for either at Leipsig, to form yourself upon; but,
however, do not get a habit of neglecting either; and attend properly to
both, when you go to courts, where they are very necessary, and where you
will have good masters and good models for both. Your exercises of
riding, fencing, and dancing, will civilize and fashion your body and
your limbs, and give you, if you will but take it, ‘l’air d’un honnete
homme’.
I will now conclude with suggesting one reflection to you; which is, that
you should be sensible of your good fortune, in having one who interests
himself enough in you, to inquire into your faults, in order to inform
you of them. Nobody but myself would be so solicitous, either to know or
correct them; so that you might consequently be ignorant of them
yourself; for our own self-love draws a thick veil between us and our
faults. But when you hear yours from me, you may be sure that you hear
them from one who for your sake only desires to correct them; from one
whom you cannot suspect of any, partiality but in your favor; and from
one who heartily wishes that his care of you, as a father, may, in a
little time, render every care unnecessary but that of a friend. Adieu.
P. S. I condole with you for the untimely and violent death of the
tuneful Matzel.