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.

LETTER CXCVII

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.

LETTER CXCVIII

LONDON, March 8, 1754

MY DEAR FRIEND: A great and unexpected event has lately happened in our

ministerial world. Mr. Pelham died last Monday of a fever and

mortification, occasioned by a general corruption of his whole mass of

blood, which had broke out into sores in his back. I regret him as an old

acquaintance, a pretty near relation, and a private man, with whom I have

lived many years in a social and friendly way. He meant well to the

public; and was incorrupt in a post where corruption is commonly

contagious. If he was no shining, enterprising minister, he was a safe

one, which I like better. Very shining ministers, like the sun, are apt

to scorch when they shine the brightest: in our constitution, I prefer

the milder light of a less glaring minister. His successor is not yet, at

least publicly, 'designatus'. You will easily suppose that many are very

willing, and very few able, to fill that post. Various persons are talked

of, by different people, for it, according as their interest prompts them

to wish, or their ignorance to conjecture. Mr. Fox is the most talked of;

he is strongly supported by the Duke of Cumberland. Mr. Legge, the

Solicitor-General, and Dr. Lee, are likewise all spoken of, upon the foot

of the Duke of Newcastle's, and the Chancellor's interest. Should it be

any one of the last three, I think no great alterations will ensue; but

should Mr. Fox prevail, it would, in my opinion, soon produce changes by

no means favorable to the Duke of Newcastle. In the meantime, the wild

conjectures of volunteer politicians, and the ridiculous importance

which, upon these occasions, blockheads always endeavor to give

themselves, by grave looks, significant shrugs, and insignificant

whispers, are very entertaining to a bystander, as, thank God, I now am.

One KNOWS SOMETHING, but is not yet at liberty to tell it; another has

heard something from a very good hand; a third congratulates himself upon

a certain degree of intimacy, which he has long had with everyone of the

candidates, though perhaps he has never spoken twice to anyone of them.

In short, in these sort of intervals, vanity, interest, and absurdity,

always display themselves in the most ridiculous light. One who has been

so long behind the scenes as I have is much more diverted with the

entertainment, than those can be who only see it from the pit and boxes.

I know the whole machinery of the interior, and can laugh the better at

the silly wonder and wild conjectures of the uninformed spectators. This

accident, I think, cannot in the least affect your election, which is

finally settled with your friend Mr. Eliot. For, let who will prevail, I

presume, he will consider me enough, not to overturn an arrangement of

that sort, in which he cannot possibly be personally interested. So pray

go on with your parliamentary preparations. Have that object always in

your view, and pursue it with attention.

I take it for granted that your late residence in Germany has made you as

perfect and correct in German, as you were before in French, at least it

is worth your while to be so; because it is worth every man's while to be

perfectly master of whatever language he may ever have occasion to speak.

A man is not himself, in a language which he does not thoroughly possess;

his thoughts are degraded, when inelegantly or imperfectly expressed; he

is cramped and confined, and consequently can never appear to advantage.

Examine and analyze those thoughts that strike you the most, either in

conversation or in books; and you will find that they owe at least half

their merit to the turn and expression of them. There is nothing truer

than that old saying, 'Nihil dictum quod non prins dictum'. It is only

the manner of saying or writing it that makes it appear new. Convince

yourself that manner is almost everything, in everything; and study it

accordingly.

I am this moment informed, and I believe truly, that Mr. Fox--[Henry Fox,

created Lord Holland, Baron of Foxley, in the year 1763]--is to succeed

Mr. Pelham as First Commissioner of the Treasury and Chancellor of the

Exchequer; and your friend, Mr. Yorke, of The Hague, to succeed Mr. Fox

as Secretary at War. I am not sorry for this promotion of Mr. Fox, as I

have always been upon civil terms with him, and found him ready to do me

any little services. He is frank and gentleman-like in his manner: and,

to a certain degree, I really believe will be your friend upon my

account; if you can afterward make him yours, upon your own, 'tan mieux'.

I have nothing more to say now but Adieu.

LETTER CXCIX

LONDON, March 15, 1754

MY DEAR FRIEND: We are here in the midst of a second winter; the cold is

more severe, and the snow deeper, than they were in the first. I presume,

your weather in Germany is not much more gentle and, therefore, I hope

that you are quietly and warmly fixed at some good town: and will not

risk a second burial in the snow, after your late fortunate resurrection

out of it. Your letters, I suppose, have not been able to make their way

through the ice; for I have received none from you since that of the 12th

of February, from Ratisbon. I am the more uneasy at this state of

ignorance, because I fear that you may have found some subsequent

inconveniences from your overturn, which you might not be aware of at

first.

The curtain of the political theatre was partly drawn up the day before

yesterday, and exhibited a scene which the public in general did not

expect; the Duke of Newcastle was declared First Lord Commissioner of the

Treasury, Mr. Fox Secretary of State in his room, and Mr. Henry Legge

Chancellor of the Exchequer: The employments of Treasurer of the Navy,

and Secretary at War, supposed to be vacant by the promotion of Mr. Fox

and Mr. Legge, were to be kept 'in petto' till the dissolution of this

parliament, which will probably be next week, to avoid the expense and

trouble of unnecessary re-elections; but it was generally supposed that

Colonel Yorke, of The Hague, was to succeed Mr. Fox; and George

Greenville, Mr. Legge. This scheme, had it taken place, you are, I

believe aware, was more a temporary expedient, for securing the elections

of the new parliament, and forming it, at its first meeting, to the

interests and the inclinations of the Duke of Newcastle and the

Chancellor, than a plan of administration either intended or wished to be

permanent. This scheme was disturbed yesterday: Mr. Fox, who had sullenly

accepted the seals the day before, more sullenly refused them yesterday.

His object was to be First Commissioner of the Treasury, and Chancellor

of the Exchequer, and consequently to have a share in the election of the

new parliament, and a much greater in the management of it when chosen.

This necessary consequence of his view defeated it; and the Duke of

Newcastle and the Chancellor chose to kick him upstairs into the

Secretaryship of State, rather than trust him with either the election or

the management of the new parliament. In this, considering their

respective situations, they certainly acted wisely; but whether Mr. Fox

has done so, or not, in refusing the seals, is a point which I cannot

determine. If he is, as I presume he is, animated with revenge, and I

believe would not be over scrupulous in the means of gratifying it, I

should have thought he could have done it better, as Secretary of State,

with constant admission into the closet, than as a private man at the

head of an opposition. But I see all these things at too great a distance

to be able to judge soundly of them. The true springs and motives of

political measures are confined within a very narrow circle, and known to

a very few; the good reasons alleged are seldom the true ones: The public

commonly judges, or rather guesses, wrong, and I am now one of that

public. I therefore recommend to you a prudent Pyrrhonism in all matters

of state, until you become one of the wheels of them yourself, and

consequently acquainted with the general motion, at least, of the others;

for as to all the minute and secret springs, that contribute more or less

to the whole machine, no man living ever knows them all, not even he who

has the principal direction of it. As in the human body, there are

innumerable little vessels and glands that have a good deal to do, and

yet escape the knowledge of the most skillful anatomist; he will know

more, indeed, than those who only see the exterior of our bodies, but he

will never know all. This bustle, and these changes at court, far from

having disturbed the quiet and security of your election, have, if

possible, rather confirmed them; for the Duke of Newcastle (I must do him

justice) has, in, the kindest manner imaginable to you, wrote a letter to

Mr. Eliot, to recommend to him the utmost care of your election.

Though the plan of administration is thus unsettled, mine, for my travels

this summer, is finally settled; and I now communicate it to you that you

may form your own upon it. I propose being at Spa on the 10th or 12th of

May, and staying there till the 10th of July. As there will be no mortal

there during my stay, it would be both unpleasant and unprofitable to you

to be shut up tete-a-fete with me the whole time; I should therefore

think it best for you not to come to me there till the last week in June.

In the meantime, I suppose, that by the middle of April, you will think

that you have had enough of Manheim, Munich, or Ratisbon, and that

district. Where would you choose to go then? For I leave you absolutely

your choice. Would you go to Dresden for a month or six weeks? That is a

good deal out of your way, and I am not sure that Sir Charles will be

there by that time. Or would you rather take Bonn in your way, and pass

the time till we meet at The Hague? From Manheim you may have a great

many good letters of recommendation to the court of Bonn; which court,

and it's Elector, in one light or another, are worth your seeing.

From thence, your journey to The Hague will be but a short one; and you

would arrive there at that season of the year when The Hague is, in my

mind, the most agreeable, smiling scene in Europe; and from The Hague you

would have but three very easy days journey to me at Spa. Do as you like;

for, as I told you before, 'Ella e assolutamente padrone'. But lest you

should answer that you desire to be determined by me, I will eventually

tell you my opinion. I am rather inclined to the latter plan; I mean that

of your coming to Bonn, staying there according as you like it, and then

passing the remainder of your time, that is May and June, at The Hague.

Our connection and transactions with the Republic of the United

Provinces are such, that you cannot be too well acquainted with that

constitution, and with those people. You have established good

acquaintances there, and you have been 'fetoie' round by the foreign

ministers; so that you will be there 'en pais connu'. Moreover, you have

not seen the Stadtholder, the 'Gouvernante', nor the court there, which

'a bon compte' should be seen. Upon the whole, then, you cannot, in my

opinion, pass the months of May and June more agreeably, or more

usefully, than at The Hague. But, however, if you have any other, plan

that you like better, pursue it: Only let me know what you intend to do,

and I shall most cheerfully agree to it.

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