CHELTENHAM, July 6, O. S. 1748.
DEAR BOY: Your school-fellow, Lord Pulteney,--[Only child of the Right
Hon. William Pulteney, Earl of Bath. He died before his father.]--set out
last week for Holland, and will, I believe, be at Leipsig soon after this
letter: you will take care to be extremely 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 himself without your
endeavors; and that cannot be helped: but nothing is more insulting, more
mortifying and less forgiven, than avowedly to take pains to make a man
feel a mortifying inferiority in knowledge, rank, fortune, etc. In the
two last articles, it is unjust, they not being in his power: and in the
first it is both ill-bred and ill-natured. Good-breeding, and
good-nature, do incline us rather to raise and help 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, particularly, have a right to them; and any omission in that
respect is downright ill-breeding.
Do you employ your whole time in the most useful 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 an 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 frivolous, and as the resources of little minds, who either do
not think, or do not love to think. But the pleasures 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 day 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 books 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, particularly 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 age; as the
negligence of it implies an indifference 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, O. S. I
like your dissertation upon Preliminary Articles and Truces. Your
definitions of both are true. Those are matters which I would have you be
master of; 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, consequently, 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 meant 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 frequented 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, on 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 persifler’, practiced with great
success by the ‘Petits maitres’ at Paris. This noble art consists in
picking out some grave, serious man, who neither understands nor expects,
raillery, and talking to him very quick, and inarticulate sounds; while
the man, who thinks that he did not hear well; or attend sufficiently,
says, ‘Monsieur? or ‘Plait-il’? 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 of 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 questions
concerning Lord Pulteney.