LONDON, February 26, 1754.
MY DEAR FRIEND: I have received your letters of the 4th, from Munich, and
of the 11th from Ratisbon; but I have not received that of the 31st
January, to which you refer in the former. It is to this negligence and
uncertainty of the post, that you owe your accidents between Munich and
Ratisbon: for, had you received my letters regularly, you would have
received one from me before you left Munich, in which I advised you to
stay, since you were so well there. But, at all events, you were in the
wrong to set out from Munich in such weather and such roads; since you
could never imagine that I had set my heart so much upon your going to
Berlin, as to venture your being buried in the snow for it. Upon the
whole, considering all you are very well off. You do very well, in my
mind, to return to Munich, or at least to keep within the circle of
Munich, Ratisbon, and Manheim, till the weather and the roads are good:
stay at each or any of those places as long as ever you please; for I am
extremely indifferent about your going to Berlin.
As to our meeting, I will tell you my plan, and you may form your own
accordingly. I propose setting out from hence the last week in April,
then drinking the Aix-la-Chapelle waters for a week, and from thence
being at Spa about the 15th of May, where I shall stay two months at
most, and then return straight to England. As I both hope and believe
that there will be no mortal at Spa during my residence there, the
fashionable season not beginning till the middle of July, I would by no
means have you come there at first, to be locked up with me and some few
Capucins, for two months, in that miserable hole; but I would advise you
to stay where you like best, till about the first week in July, and then
to come and pick me up at Spa, or meet me upon the road at Liege or
Brussels. As for the intermediate time, should you be weary of Manheim
and Munich, you may, if you please, go to Dresden, to Sir Charles
Williams, who will be there before that time; or you may come for a month
or six weeks to The Hague; or, in short, go or stay wherever you like
best. So much for your motions.
As you have sent for all the letters directed to you at Berlin, you will
receive from thence volumes of mine, among which you will easily perceive
that some were calculated for a supposed perusal previous to your opening
them. I will not repeat anything contained in them, excepting that I
desire you will send me a warm and cordial letter of thanks for Mr.
Eliot; who has, in the most friendly manner imaginable, fixed you at his
own borough of Liskeard, where you will be elected jointly with him,
without the least opposition or difficulty. I will forward that letter to
him into Cornwall, where he now is.
Now that you are to be soon a man of business, I heartily wish that you
would immediately begin to be a man of method; nothing contributing more
to facilitate and dispatch business, than method and order. Have order
and method in your accounts, in your reading, in the allotment of your
time; in short, in everything. You cannot conceive how much time you will
save by it, nor how much better everything you do will be done. The Duke
of Marlborough did by no means spend, but he slatterned himself into that
immense debt, which is not yet near paid off. The hurry and confusion of
the Duke of Newcastle do not proceed from his business, but from his want
of method in it. Sir Robert Walpole, who had ten times the business to
do, was never seen in a hurry, because he always did it with method. The
head of a man who has business, and no method nor order, is properly that
‘rudis indigestaque moles quam dixere chaos’. As you must be conscious
that you are extremely negligent and slatternly, I hope you will resolve
not to be so for the future. Prevail with yourself, only to observe good
method and order for one fortnight; and I will venture to assure you that
you will never neglect them afterward, you will find such conveniency and
advantage arising from them. Method is the great advantage that lawyers
have over other people, in speaking in parliament; for, as they must
necessarily observe it in their pleadings in the courts of justice, it
becomes habitual to them everywhere else. Without making you a
compliment, I can tell you with pleasure, that order, method, and more
activity of mind, are all that you want, to make, some day or other, a
considerable figure in business. You have more useful knowledge, more
discernment of characters, and much more discretion, than is common at
your age; much more, I am sure, than I had at that age. Experience you
cannot yet have, and therefore trust in the meantime to mine. I am an old
traveler; am well acquainted with all the bye as well as the great roads;
I cannot misguide you from ignorance, and you are very sure I shall not
from design.
I can assure you, that you will have no opportunity of subscribing
yourself my Excellency’s, etc. Retirement and quiet were my choice some
years ago, while I had all my senses, and health and spirits enough to
carry on business; but now that I have lost my hearing, and that I find
my constitution declining daily, they are become my necessary and only
refuge. I know myself (no common piece of knowledge, let me tell you), I
know what I can, what I cannot, and consequently what I ought to do. I
ought not, and therefore will not, return to business when I am much less
fit for it than I was when I quitted it. Still less will I go to Ireland,
where, from my deafness and infirmities, I must necessarily make a
different figure from that which I once made there. My pride would be too
much mortified by that difference. The two important senses of seeing and
hearing should not only be good, but quick, in business; and the business
of a Lord-lieutenant of Ireland (if he will do it himself) requires both
those senses in the highest perfection. It was the Duke of Dorset’s not
doing the business himself, but giving it up to favorites, that has
occasioned all this confusion in Ireland; and it was my doing the whole
myself, without either Favorite, Minister, or Mistress, that made my
administration so smooth and quiet. I remember, when I named the late Mr.
Liddel for my Secretary, everybody was much surprised at it; and some of
my friends represented to me, that he was no man of business, but only a
very genteel, pretty young fellow; I assured them, and with truth, that
that was the very reason why I chose him; for that I was resolved to do
all the business myself, and without even the suspicion of having a
minister; which the Lord-lieutenant’s Secretary, if he is a man of
business, is always supposed, and commonly with reason, to be. Moreover,
I look upon myself now to be emeritus in business, in which I have been
near forty years together; I give it up to you: apply yourself to it, as
I have done, for forty years, and then I consent to your leaving it for a
philosophical retirement among your friends and your books. Statesmen and
beauties are very rarely sensible of the gradations of their decay; and,
too often sanguinely hoping to shine on in their meridian, often set with
contempt and ridicule. I retired in time, ‘uti conviva satur’; or, as
Pope says still better, ERE TITTERING YOUTH SHALL SHOVE YOU FROM THE
STAGE. My only remaining ambition is to be the counsellor and minister of
your rising ambition. Let me see my own youth revived in you; let me be
your Mentor, and, with your parts and knowledge, I promise you, you shall
go far. You must bring, on your part, activity and attention; and I will
point out to you the proper objects for them. I own I fear but one thing
for you, and that is what one has generally the least reason to fear from
one of your age; I mean your laziness; which, if you indulge, will make
you stagnate in a contemptible obscurity all your life. It will hinder
you from doing anything that will deserve to be written, or from writing
anything that may deserve to be read; and yet one or other of those two
objects should be at least aimed at by every rational being.
I look upon indolence as a sort of SUICIDE; for the man is effectually
destroyed, though the appetites of the brute may survive. Business by no
means forbids pleasures; on the contrary, they reciprocally season each
other; and I will venture to affirm, that no man enjoys either in
perfection, that does not join both. They whet the desire for each other.
Use yourself, therefore, in time to be alert and diligent in your little
concerns; never procrastinate, never put off till to-morrow what you can
do to-day; and never do two things at a time; pursue your object, be it
what it will, steadily and indefatigably; and let any difficulties (if
surmountable) rather animate than slacken your endeavors. Perseverance
has surprising effects.
I wish you would use yourself to translate, every day, only three or four
lines, from any book, in any language, into the correctest and most
elegant English that you can think of; you cannot imagine how it will
insensibly form your style, and give you an habitual elegance; it would
not take you up a quarter of an hour in a day. This letter is so long,
that it will hardly leave you that quarter of an hour, the day you
receive it. So good-night.