LETTER CXLII

LONDON, May 10, O. S. 1751.

MY DEAR FRIEND: I received yesterday, at the same time, your letters of

the 4th and 11th, N. S., and being much more careful of my commissions

than you are of yours, I do not delay one moment sending you my final

instructions concerning the pictures. The man you allow to be a Titian,

and in good preservation; the woman is an indifferent and a damaged

picture; but as I want them for furniture for a particular room,

companions are necessary; and therefore I am willing to take the woman

for better for worse, upon account of the man; and if she is not too much

damaged, I can have her tolerably repaired, as many a fine woman is, by a

skillful hand here; but then I expect that the lady should be, in a

manner, thrown into the bargain with the man; and, in this state of

affairs, the woman being worth little or nothing, I will not go above

fourscore Louis for the two together. As for the Rembrandt you mention,

though it is very cheap, if good, I do not care for it. I love ‘la belle

nature’; Rembrandt paints caricatures. Now for your own commissions,

which you seem to have forgotten. You mention nothing of the patterns

which you received by Monsieur Tollot, though I told you in a former

letter, which you must have had before the date of your last, that I

should stay till I received the patterns pitched upon by your ladies; for

as to the instructions which you sent me in Madame Monconseil’s hand, I

could find no mohairs in London that exactly answered that description; I

shall, therefore, wait till you send me (which you may easily do in a

letter) the patterns chosen by your three graces.

I would, by all means, have you go now and then, for two or three days,

to Marechal Coigny’s, at Orli; it is but a proper civility to that

family, which has been particularly civil to you; and, moreover, I would

have you familiarize yourself with, and learn the interior and domestic

manners of, people of that rank and fashion. I also desire that you will

frequent Versailles and St. Cloud, at both of which courts you have been

received with distinction. Profit of that distinction, and familiarize

yourself at both. Great courts are the seats of true good-breeding; you

are to live at courts, lose no time in learning them. Go and stay

sometimes at Versailles for three or four days, where you will be

domestic in the best families, by means of your friend Madame de

Puisieux; and mine, l’Abbe de la Ville. Go to the King’s and the

Dauphin’s levees, and distinguish yourself from the rest of your

countrymen, who, I dare say, never go there when they can help it. Though

the young Frenchmen of fashion may not be worth forming intimate

connections with, they are well worth making acquaintance of; and I do

not see how you can avoid it, frequenting so many good French houses as

you do, where, to be sure, many of them come. Be cautious how you

contract friendships, but be desirous, and even industrious, to obtain a

universal acquaintance. Be easy, and even forward, in making new

acquaintances; that is the only way of knowing manners and characters in

general, which is, at present, your great object. You are ‘enfant de

famille’ in three ministers’ houses; but I wish you had a footing, at

least, in thirteen and that, I should think, you might easily bring

about, by that common chain, which, to a certain degree, connects those

you do not with those you do know.

For instance, I suppose that neither Lord Albemarle, nor Marquis de St.

Germain, would make the least difficulty to present you to Comte Caunitz,

the Nuncio, etc. ‘Il faut etre rompu du monde’, which can only be done by

an extensive, various, and almost universal acquaintance.

When you have got your emaciated Philomath, I desire that his triangles,

rhomboids, etc., may not keep you one moment out of the good company you

would otherwise be in. Swallow all your learning in the morning, but

digest it in company in the evenings. The reading of ten new characters

is more your business now, than the reading of twenty old books; showish

and shining people always get the better of all others, though ever so

solid. If you would be a great man in the world when you are old, shine

and be showish in it while you are young, know everybody, and endeavor to

please everybody, I mean exteriorly; for fundamentally it is impossible.

Try to engage the heart of every woman, and the affections of almost

every man you meet with. Madame Monconseil assures me that you are most

surprisingly improved in your air, manners, and address: go on, my dear

child, and never think that you are come to a sufficient degree of

perfection; ‘Nil actum reputans, si quid superesset agendum’; and in

those shining parts of the character of a gentleman, there is always

something remaining to be acquired. Modes and manners vary in different

places, and at different times; you must keep pace with them, know them,

and adopt them, wherever you find them. The great usage of the world, the

knowledge of characters, the brillant dun ‘galant homme,’ is all that you

now want. Study Marcel and the ‘beau monde’ with great application, but

read Homer and Horace only when you have nothing else to do. Pray who is

‘la belle Madame de Case’, whom I know you frequent? I like the epithet

given her very well: if she deserves it, she deserves your attention too.

A man of fashion should be gallant to a fine woman, though he does not

make love to her, or may be otherwise engaged. On ‘lui doit des

politesses, on fait l’eloge de ses charmes, et il n’en est ni plus ni

moins pour cela’: it pleases, it flatters; you get their good word, and

you lose nothing by it. These ‘gentillesses’ should be accompanied, as

indeed everything else should, with an air: ‘un air, un ton de douceur et

de politesse’. Les graces must be of the party, or it will never do; and

they are so easily had, that it is astonishing to me that everybody has

them not; they are sooner gained than any woman of common reputation and

decency. Pursue them but with care and attention, and you are sure to

enjoy them at last: without them, I am sure, you will never enjoy anybody

else. You observe, truly, that Mr.------is gauche; it is to be hoped that

will mend with keeping company; and is yet pardonable in him, as just

come from school. But reflect what you would think of a man, who had been

any time in the world, and yet should be so awkward. For God’s sake,

therefore, now think of nothing but shining, and even distinguishing

yourself in the most polite courts, by your air, your address, your

manners, your politeness, your ‘douceur’, your graces. With those

advantages (and not without them) take my word for it, you will get the

better of all rivals, in business as well as in ‘ruelles’. Adieu. Send me

your patterns, by the next post, and also your instructions to Grevenkop

about the seal, which you seem to have forgotten.

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