MY DEAR FRIEND: I can now with great truth apply your own motto to you,
‘Nullum numen abest, si sit Prudentia’. You are sure of being, as early
as your age will permit, a member of that House; which is the only road
to figure and fortune in this country. Those, indeed, who are bred up to,
and distinguish themselves in particular professions, as the army, the
navy, and the law, may, by their own merit, raise themselves to a certain
degree; but you may observe too, that they never get to the top, without
the assistance of parliamentary talents and influence. The means of
distinguishing yourself in parliament are, as I told you in my last, much
more easily attained than I believe you imagine. Close attendance to the
business of the House will soon give you the parliamentary routine; and
strict attention to your style will soon make you, not only a speaker,
but a good one. The vulgar look upon a man, who is reckoned a fine
speaker, as a phenomenon, a supernatural being, and endowed with some
peculiar gift of heaven; they stare at him, if he walks in the Park, and
cry, THAT IS HE. You will, I am sure, view him in a juster light, and
‘nulla formidine’. You will consider him only as a man of good sense, who
adorns common thoughts with the graces of elocution, and the elegance of
style. The miracle will then cease; and you will be convinced, that with
the same application, and attention to the same objects, you may most
certainly equal, and perhaps surpass, this prodigy. Sir W----Y-------,
with not a quarter of your parts, and not a thousandth part of your
knowledge, has, by a glibness of tongue simply, raised him successively
to the best employments of the kingdom; he has been Lord of the
Admiralty, Lord of the Treasury, Secretary at War, and is now
Vice-Treasurer of Ireland; and all this with a most sullied, not to say
blasted character. Represent the thing to yourself, as it really is,
easily attainable, and you will find it so. Have but ambition enough
passionately to desire the object, and spirit enough to use the means,
and I will be answerable for your success. When I was younger than you
are, I resolved within myself that I would in all events be a speaker in
parliament, and a good one too, if I could. I consequently never lost
sight of that object, and never neglected any of the means that I thought
led to it. I succeeded to a certain degree; and, I assure you, with great
ease, and without superior talents. Young people are very apt to overrate
both men and things, from not being enough acquainted with them. In
proportion as you come to know them better, you will value them less. You
will find that reason, which always ought to direct mankind, seldom does;
but that passions and weaknesses commonly usurp its seat, and rule in its
stead. You will find that the ablest have their weak sides too, and are
only comparatively able, with regard to the still weaker herd: having
fewer weaknesses themselves, they are able to avail themselves of the
innumerable ones of the generality of mankind: being more masters of
themselves, they become more easily masters of others. They address
themselves to their weaknesses, their senses, their passions; never to
their reason; and consequently seldom fail of success. But then analyze
those great, those governing, and, as the vulgar imagine, those perfect
characters, and you will find the great Brutus a thief in Macedonia, the
great Cardinal Richelieu a jealous poetaster, and the great Duke of
Marlborough a miser. Till you come to know mankind by your own
experience, I know no thing, nor no man, that can in the meantime bring
you so well acquainted with them as le Duc de la Rochefoucault: his
little book of “Maxims,” which I would advise you to look into, for some
moments at least, every day of your life, is, I fear, too like, and too
exact a picture of human nature.
I own, it seems to degrade it; but yet my experience does not convince me
that it degrades it unjustly.
Now, to bring all this home to my first point. All these considerations
should not only invite you to attempt to make a figure in parliament, but
encourage you to hope that you shall succeed. To govern mankind, one must
not overrate them: and to please an audience, as a speaker, one must not
overvalue it. When I first came into the House of Commons, I respected
that assembly as a venerable one; and felt a certain awe upon me, but,
upon better acquaintance, that awe soon vanished; and I discovered, that,
of the five hundred and sixty, not above thirty could understand reason,
and that all the rest were ‘peuple’; that those thirty only required
plain common sense, dressed up in good language; and that all the others
only required flowing and harmonious periods, whether they conveyed any
meaning or not; having ears to hear, but not sense enough to judge. These
considerations made me speak with little concern the first time, with
less the second, and with none at all the third. I gave myself no further
trouble about anything, except my elocution, and my style; presuming,
without much vanity, that I had common sense sufficient not to talk
nonsense. Fix these three truths strongly in your mind: First, that it is
absolutely necessary for you to speak in parliament; secondly, that it
only requires a little human attention, and no supernatural gifts; and,
thirdly, that you have all the reason in the world to think that you
shall speak well. When we meet, this shall be the principal subject of
our conversations; and, if you will follow my advice, I will answer for
your success.
Now from great things to little ones; the transition is to me easy,
because nothing seems little to me that can be of any use to you. I hope
you take great care of your mouth and teeth, and that you clean them well
every morning with a sponge and tepid water, with a few drops of
arquebusade water dropped into it; besides washing your mouth carefully
after every meal, I do insist upon your never using those sticks, or any
hard substance whatsoever, which always rub away the gums, and destroy
the varnish of the teeth. I speak this from woeful experience; for my
negligence of my teeth, when I was younger than you are, made them bad;
and afterward, my desire to have them look better, made me use sticks,
irons, etc., which totally destroyed them; so that I have not now above
six or seven left. I lost one this morning, which suggested this advice
to you.
I have received the tremendous wild boar, which your still more
tremendous arm slew in the immense deserts of the Palatinate; but have
not yet tasted of it, as it is hitherto above my low regimen. The late
King of Prussia, whenever he killed any number of wild boars, used to
oblige the Jews to buy them, at a high price, though they could eat none
of them; so they defrayed the expense of his hunting. His son has juster
rules of government, as the Code Frederick plainly shows.
I hope, that, by this time, you are as well ‘ancre’ at Berlin as you was
at Munich; but, if not, you are sure of being so at Dresden. Adieu.