*An address in writing, from a person who has the pleasure of being
with you every day, may appear singular. However, I have preferred
this method, as upon paper I can speak without a blush, and be heard
without interruption. If my letter displeases you, impute it, Dear
Sir, only to yourself. You have treated me not like a son, but like
a friend. Can you be surprized that I should communicate to a friend
all my thoughts, and all my desires? Unless the friend approve them,
let the father never know them; or, at least, let him know at the
same time, that however reasonable, however eligible, my scheme may
appear to me, I would rather forget it for ever, than cause him the
slightest uneasiness.
[Sidenote: UNFITNESS FOR POLITICAL LIFE.]
When I first returned to England, attentive to my future interest,
you were so good as to give me hopes of a seat in Parliament. This
seat, according to the Custom of our venal country, was to be
bought, and fifteen hundred pounds were mentioned as the price of
the purchase. This design flattered my vanity, as it might enable me
to shine in so august an assembly. It flattered a nobler passion; I
promised myself that by the means of this seat I might be one day
the instrument of some good to my country. But I soon perceived how
little a mere virtuous inclination, unasisted by talents, could
contribute towards that great end; and a very short examination
discovered to me, that those talents were not fallen to my lot.
Do not, Dear Sir, impute this declaration to a false modesty, the
meanest species of pride. Whatever else I may be ignorant of, I
think I know myself, and shall always endeavour to mention my good
qualities without vanity, and my defects without repugnance. I shall
say nothing of the most intimate acquaintance with his country and
language, so absolutely necessary to every Senator. Since they may
be acquired, to alledge my deficiency in them, would seem only the
plea of laziness. But I shall say with great truth, that I never
possessed that gift of speach, the first requisite of an Orator,
which use and labour may improve, but which nature can alone bestow.
That my temper, quiet, retired, somewhat reserved, could neither
acquire popularity, bear up against opposition, nor mix with ease in
the crowds of public life. That even my genius (if you will allow
me any) is better qualified for the deliberate compositions of the
Closet, than for the extemporary discourses of the Parliament. An
unexpected objection would disconcert me; and as I am incapable of
explaining to others what I do not thoroughly understand myself, I
should be meditating, while I ought to be answering. I even want
necessary prejudices of party, and of nation. In popular assemblies,
it is often necessary to inspire them; and never Orator inspired well
a passion, which he did not feel himself. Suppose me even mistaken in
my own Character; to set out with the repugnance such an opinion must
produce, offers but an indifferent prospect. But I hear you say It is
not necessary that every man should enter into Parliament with such
exalted hopes. It is to acquire a title the most glorious of any in
a free country, and to employ the weight and consideration It gives
in the service of one's friends. Such motifs, tho' not glorious, yet
are not dishonourable; and if we had a borough in our command, if
you could bring me in without any great expence, or if our fortune
enabled us to dispise that expence, then indeed I should think them
of the greatest strength. But with our private fortune is it worth
while to purchase at so high a rate, a title, honourable in itself,
but which I must share with every fellow that can lay out Fifteen
hundred pounds? Besides, Dear Sir, a merchandize is of little value
to the owner, when he is resolved not to sell it.
I should affront your penetration, did I not suppose you now see the
drift of this letter. It is to appropriate to another use the sum you
destined to bring me into Parliament; to employ it, not in making
me great, but in rendering me happy. I have often heard you say
yourself, that the allowance you had been so indulgent as to grant
me, tho' very liberal in regard to your estate, was yet but small,
when compared with the almost necessary extravagances of the age. I
have indeed found it so, notwithstanding a good deal of œconomy, and
an exemption from many of the common expences of youth. This, Dear
Sir, would be a way of supplying these deficiencies, without any
additional expence to you.--But I forbear.--If you think my proposals
reasonable, you want no entreaties to engage you to comply with them;
if otherwise, all will be without effect.
All that I am afraid of, Dear Sir, is, that I should seem not so much
asking a favour, as this really is, as exacting a debt. After all I
can say, you will still remain the best judge of my good, and your
own circumstances. Perhaps, like most Landed Gentlemen, an addition
to my annuity would suit you better than a sum of money given at
once. Perhaps the sum itself may be too considerable. Whatever you
shall think proper to bestow upon me, or in whatever manner, will be
received with equal gratitude.
I intended to stop here; but as I abhor the least appearance of
art, I think it will be better to lay open my whole scheme at once.
The unhappy War which now desolates Europe, will oblige me to defer
seeing France till a peace. But that reason can have no influence
upon Italy, a country which every Scholar must long to see; should
you grant my request, and not disaprove of my manner of employing
your bounty, I would leave England this autumn, and pass the winter
at Lausanne, with M. de Voltaire and my old friends. The armies no
longer obstruct my passage, and it must be indifferent to you,
whether I am at Lausanne or at London during the winter, since I
shall not be at Beriton. In the spring I would cross the Alps, and
after some stay in Italy, as the war must then be terminated, return
home thro' France, to live happily with you and my dear Mother. I
am now two or three and twenty; a tour must take up a considerable
time, and tho' I believe you have no thoughts of settling me soon,
(and I am sure I have not) yet so many things may intervene, that the
man who does not travel early, runs a great risk of not travelling
at all. But this part of my scheme, as well as the whole, I submit
entirely to you.
Permit me, Dear Sir, to add, that I do not know whether the compleat
compliance with my wishes could encrease my love and gratitude; but
that I am very sure, no refusal could minish those sentiments with
which I shall always remain, Dear Sir, your most dutiful and obedient
son and servant,*