LONDON, July 30, O. S. 1749.
DEAR BOY: Mr. Harte’s letters and yours drop in upon me most irregularly;
for I received, by the last post, one from Mr. Harte, of the 9th, N. S.,
and that which Mr. Grevenkop had received from him, the post before, was
of the 13th; at last, I suppose, I shall receive them all.
I am very glad that my letter, with Dr. Shaw’s opinion, has lessened your
bathing; for since I was born, I never heard of bathing four hours a-day;
which would surely be too much, even in Medea’s kettle, if you wanted (as
you do not yet) new boiling.
Though, in that letter of mine, I proposed your going to Inspruck, it was
only in opposition to Lausanne, which I thought much too long and painful
a journey for you; but you will have found, by my subsequent letters,
that I entirely approved of Venice; where I hope you have now been some
time, and which is a much better place for you to reside at, till you go
to Naples, than either Tieffer or Laubach. I love capitals extremely; it
is in capitals that the best company is always to be found; and
consequently, the best manners to be learned. The very best provincial
places have some awkwardness, that distinguish their manners from those
of the metropolis. ‘A propos’ of capitals, I send you here two letters of
recommendation to Naples, from Monsieur Finochetti, the Neapolitan
Minister at The Hague; and in my next I shall send you two more, from the
same person, to the same place.
I have examined Comte d’Einsiedlen so narrowly concerning you, that I
have extorted from him a confession that you do not care to speak German,
unless to such as understand no other language. At this rate, you will
never speak it well, which I am very desirous that you should do, and of
which you would, in time, find the advantage. Whoever has not the command
of a language, and does not speak it with facility, will always appear
below himself when he converses in that language; the want of words and
phrases will cramp and lame his thoughts. As you now know German enough
to express yourself tolerably, speaking it very often will soon make you
speak it very well: and then you will appear in it whatever you are. What
with your own Saxon servant and the swarms of Germans you will meet with
wherever you go, you may have opportunities of conversing in that
language half the day; and I do very seriously desire that you will, or
else all the pains that you have already taken about it are lost. You
will remember likewise, that, till you can write in Italian, you are
always to write to me in German.
Mr. Harte’s conjecture concerning your distemper seems to be a very
reasonable one; it agrees entirely with mine, which is the universal rule
by which every man judges of another man’s opinion. But, whatever may
have been the cause of your rheumatic disorder, the effects are still to
be attended to; and as there must be a remaining acrimony in your blood,
you ought to have regard to that, in your common diet as well as in your
medicines; both which should be of a sweetening alkaline nature, and
promotive of perspiration. Rheumatic complaints are very apt to return,
and those returns would be very vexatious and detrimental to you; at your
age, and in your course of travels. Your time is, now particularly,
inestimable; and every hour of it, at present, worth more than a year
will be to you twenty years hence. You are now laying the foundation of
your future character and fortune; and one single stone wanting in that
foundation is of more consequence than fifty in the superstructure; which
can always be mended and embellished if the foundation is solid. To carry
on the metaphor of building: I would wish you to be a Corinthian edifice
upon a Tuscan foundation; the latter having the utmost strength and
solidity to support, and the former all possible ornaments to decorate.
The Tuscan column is coarse, clumsy, and unpleasant; nobody looks at it
twice; the Corinthian fluted column is beautiful and attractive; but
without a solid foundation, can hardly be seen twice, because it must
soon tumble down. Yours affectionately.