“Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possum dicere quare;
Hoc tantum possum dicere, non amo te”--
[OR: “I do not love thee Dr. Fell
The reason why I cannot tell.
But this I know and know full well:
I do not love thee Dr. Fell.” D.W.]
has puzzled a great many people, who cannot conceive how it is possible
not to love anybody, and yet not to know the reason why. I think I
conceive Martial’s meaning very clearly, though the nature of epigram,
which is to be short, would not allow him to explain it more fully; and I
take it to be this: O Sabidis, you are a very worthy deserving man; you
have a thousand good qualities, you have a great deal of learning; I
esteem, I respect, but for the soul of me I cannot love you, though I
cannot particularly say why. You are not aimable: you have not those
engaging manners, those pleasing attentions, those graces, and that
address, which are absolutely necessary to please, though impossible to
define. I cannot say it is this or that particular thing that hinders me
from loving you; it is the whole together; and upon the whole you are not
agreeable.
How often have I, in the course of my life, found myself in this
situation, with regard to many of my acquaintance, whom I have honored
and respected, without being able to love. I did not know why, because,
when one is young, one does not take the trouble, nor allow one’s self
the time, to analyze one’s sentiments and to trace them up to their
source. But subsequent observation and reflection have taught me why.
There is a man, whose moral character, deep learning, and superior parts,
I acknowledge, admire, and respect; but whom it is so impossible for me
to love, that I am almost in a fever whenever I am in his company. His
figure (without being deformed) seems made to disgrace or ridicule the
common structure of the human body. His legs and arms are never in the
position which, according to the situation of his body, they ought to be
in, but constantly employed in committing acts of hostility upon the
Graces. He throws anywhere, but down his throat, whatever he means to
drink, and only mangles what he means to carve. Inattentive to all the
regards of social life, he mistimes or misplaces everything. He disputes
with heat, and indiscriminately, mindless of the rank, character, and
situation of those with whom he disputes; absolutely ignorant of the
several gradations of familiarity or respect, he is exactly the same to
his superiors, his equals, and his inferiors; and therefore, by a
necessary consequence, absurd to two of the three. Is it possible to love
such a man? No. The utmost I can do for him, is to consider him as a
respectable Hottentot.--[This ‘mot’ was aimed at Dr. Johnson in
retaliation for his famous letter.]
I remember, that when I came from Cambridge, I had acquired, among the
pedants of that illiberal seminary, a sauciness of literature, a turn to
satire and contempt, and a strong tendency to argumentation and
contradiction. But I had been but a very little while in the world,
before I found that this would by no means do; and I immediately adopted
the opposite character; I concealed what learning I had; I applauded
often, without approving; and I yielded commonly without conviction.
‘Suaviter in modo’ was my law and my prophets; and if I pleased (between
you and me) it was much more owing to that, than to any superior
knowledge or merit of my own. Apropos, the word PLEASING puts one always
in mind of Lady Hervey; pray tell her, that I declare her responsible to
me for your pleasing; that I consider her as a pleasing Falstaff, who not
only pleases, herself, but is the cause of pleasing in others; that I
know she can make anything of anybody; and that, as your governess, if
she does not make you please, it must be only because she will not, and
not because she cannot. I hope you are ‘dubois don’t on en fait’; and if
so, she is so good a sculptor, that I am sure she can give you whatever
form she pleases. A versatility of manners is as necessary in social, as
a versatility of parts is in political life. One must often yield, in
order to prevail; one must humble one’s self, to be exalted; one must,
like St. Paul, become all things to all men, to gain some; and, by the
way, men are taken by the same means, ‘mutatis mutandis’, that women are
gained--by gentleness, insinuation, and submission: and these lines of
Mr. Dryden will hold to a minister as well as to a mistress:
“The prostrate lover, when he lowest lies,
But stoops to conquer, and but kneels to rise.”
In the course of the world, the qualifications of the chameleon are often
necessary; nay, they must be carried a little further, and exerted a
little sooner; for you should, to a certain degree, take the hue of
either the man or the woman that you want, and wish to be upon terms
with. ‘A propos’, have you yet found out at Paris, any friendly and
hospitable Madame de Lursay, ‘qui veut bien se charger du soin de vous
eduquer’? And have you had any occasion of representing to her, ‘qu’elle
faisoit donc des noeuds’? But I ask your pardon, Sir, for the abruptness
of the question, and acknowledge that I am meddling with matters that are
out of my department. However, in matters of less importance, I desire to
be ‘de vos secrets le fidele depositaire’. Trust me with the general turn
and color of your amusements at Paris. Is it ‘le fracas du grand monde,
comedies, bals, operas, cour,’ etc.? Or is it ‘des petites societes,
moins bruyantes, mais pas pour cela moins agreables’? Where are you the
most ‘etabli’? Where are you ‘le petit Stanhope? Voyez vous encore jour,
a quelque arrangement honnete? Have you made many acquaintances among the
young Frenchmen who ride at your Academy; and who are they? Send to me
this sort of chit-chat in your letters, which, by the bye, I wish you
would honor me with somewhat oftener. If you frequent any of the myriads
of polite Englishmen who infest Paris, who are they? Have you finished
with Abbe Nolet, and are you ‘au fait’ of all the properties and effects
of air? Were I inclined to quibble, I would say, that the effects of air,
at least, are best to be learned of Marcel. If you have quite done with
l’Abbes Nolet, ask my friend l’Abbe Sallier to recommend to you some
meagre philomath, to teach you a little geometry and astronomy; not
enough to absorb your attention and puzzle your intellects, but only
enough not to be grossly ignorant of either. I have of late been a sort
of ‘astronome malgre moi’, by bringing in last Monday into the House of
Lords a bill for reforming our present Calendar and taking the New Style.
Upon which occasion I was obliged to talk some astronomical jargon, of
which I did not understand one word, but got it by heart, and spoke it by
rote from a master. I wished that I had known a little more of it myself;
and so much I would have you know. But the great and necessary knowledge
of all is, to know, yourself and others: this knowledge requires great
attention and long experience; exert the former, and may you have the
latter! Adieu!
P. S. I have this moment received your letters of the 27th February, and
the 2d March, N. S. The seal shall be done as soon as possible. I am,
glad that you are employed in Lord Albemarle’s bureau; it will teach you,
at least, the mechanical part of that business, such as folding,
entering, and docketing letters; for you must not imagine that you are
let into the ‘fin fin’ of the correspondence, nor indeed is it fit that
you should, at, your age. However, use yourself to secrecy as to the
letters you either read or write, that in time you may be trusted with
SECRET, VERY SECRET, SEPARATE, APART, etc. I am sorry that this business
interferes with your riding; I hope it is seldom; but I insist upon its
not interfering with your dancing-master, who is at this time the most
useful and necessary of all the masters you have or can have.