Since my return from Darmstadt, the weather has been so very bad, that
I have passed the time mostly at home. That I may obey your injunctions
to write regularly at the stated periods, I will send you the substance
of a conversation I had within these few days with a foreigner, a man of
letters, with whom I am in a considerable degree of intimacy.
This gentleman has never been in England, but he speaks the language
a little, understands it very well, and has studied many of our best
Authors. He said, that he had found in some English books, a solidity of
reasoning, and a strength of expression, superior to any thing he had met
with elsewhere;—that the English history furnished examples of patriotism
and zeal for civil liberty, equal to what was recorded in the Greek or
Roman story;—that English poetry displayed a sublimity of thought, and a
knowledge of the human heart, which no writings, ancient or modern, could
surpass; and in philosophy it was pretty generally allowed, that the
English nation had no rival.—He then mentioned the improvements made by
Englishmen in medicine and other arts, their superiority in navigation,
commerce, and manufactures; and even hinted something in praise of a
few English statesmen. He concluded his panegyric by saying, that these
considerations had given him the highest idea of the English nation, and
had led him to cultivate the acquaintance of many Englishmen whom he had
occasionally met on their travels. But he frankly acknowledged, that his
connection with these had not contributed to support the idea he had
formed of their nation.
As I had heard sentiments of the same kind insinuated by others, I
replied at some length, observing, that if he had lived in the most
brilliant period of Roman grandeur, and had accidentally met with a few
Romans in Greece or Asia, and had formed his opinion of that illustrious
commonwealth from the conduct and conversation of these travellers,
his ideas would, in all probability, have been very different from
those which the writings of Livy, Cæsar, Cicero, and Virgil, had given
him of the Roman people:—That the manners and behaviour of the few
English he might have met abroad, so far from giving him a just view of
the character of the whole nation, very possibly had led him to false
conclusions with regard to the character of those very individuals. For
that I myself had known many young Englishmen who, after having led a
dissipated, insignificant kind of life while on their travels, and while
the natural objects of their ambition were at a distance, had changed
their conduct entirely upon their return, applied to business as eagerly
as they had formerly launched into extravagance, and had at length become
very useful members of the community.
But, continued I, throwing this consideration out of the question, the
real character of a people can only be discovered by living among them
on a familiar footing, and for a considerable time. This is necessary
before we can form a just idea of any nation; but perhaps more so
with respect to the English, than any other: for in no nation are the
education, sentiments, and pursuits of those who travel, so different
from those of the people who remain at home.
The first class is composed of a few invalids, a great many young men
raw from the university, and some idle men of fortune, void of ambition,
and incapable of application, who, every now and then, saunter through
Europe, because they know not how to employ their time at home.
The second class is made up of younger brothers, who are bred to the
army, navy, the law, and other professions;—all who follow commerce,
are employed in manufactures, or farming;—and, in one word, all who,
not being born to independent fortunes, endeavour to remedy that
inconveniency by industry, and the cultivation of their talents.
England is the only country in Europe whose inhabitants never leave it in
search of fortune. There are, moderately speaking, twenty Frenchmen in
London for every Englishman at Paris. By far the greater part of those
Frenchmen travel to get money, and almost all the English to spend it.
But we should certainly be led into great errors, by forming an idea of
the character of the French nation from that of the French fiddlers,
dancing-masters, dentists, and valet-de-chambres to be met with in
England, or other parts of Europe.
The gentleman acknowledged, that it would be unfair to decide on the
French character from that of their fiddlers and dancing-masters;
but added, that he did not perceive that the English could reasonably
complain, should foreigners form an opinion of their national character
from the men of fortune, rank, and the most liberal education of their
island.
I answered, they certainly would, because young men of high rank and
great fortune carry a set of ideas along with them from their infancy,
which very often disappoint the purposes of the best education.—— Let
a child of high rank be brought up with all the care and attention the
most judicious parents and matters can give;—let him be told, that
personal qualities alone can make him truly respectable;—that the
fortuitous circumstances of birth and fortune afford no just foundation
for esteem;—that knowledge and virtue are the true sources of honour
and happiness;—that idleness produces vice and misery;—that without
application he cannot acquire knowledge;—and that without knowledge he
will dwindle into insignificance, in spite of rank and fortune:—— Let
these things be inculcated with all the power of persuasion; let them be
illustrated by example, and insinuated by fable and allegory;—yet, do we
not daily see the effect of all this counteracted by the insinuations of
servants and base sycophants, who give an importance to far different
qualities, and preach a much more agreeable doctrine?——
They make eternal allusions in all their discourse and behaviour to the
great estate the young spark is one day to have, and the great man he
must be, independent of any effort of his own. They plainly insinuate,
if they do not directly say it, that study and application, tho’ proper
enough for hospital boys, is unnecessary, or perhaps unbecoming a man of
fashion. They talk with rapture of the hounds, hunters, and race-horses
of one great man; of the rich liveries and brilliant equipage of another;
and how much both are loved and admired for their liberality to their
servants. They tell their young master, that his rank and estate entitle
him to have finer hounds, horses, liveries and equipage than either, and
to be more liberal to his servants; and consequently a greater man in
every respect. This kind of poison, being often poured upon the young
sprouts of fortune and quality, gradually blasts the vigour of the
plants, and renders all care and cultivation ineffectual.
If we suppose that domestics of another character could be placed about
a boy of high rank, and every measure taken to inspire him with other
sentiments; he cannot stir abroad, he cannot go into company without
perceiving his own importance, and the attention that is paid to him.
His childish pranks are called spirited actions; his pert speeches are
converted into bon mots; and when reproved or punished by his parent or
master, ten to one but some obsequious intermeddler will tell him that he
has suffered great injustice.
The youth, improving all this to the purposes of indolence and vanity,
arrives at length at the comfortable persuasion, that study or
application of any kind would in him be superfluous;—that he ought only
to seek amusement, for at the blessed age of twenty-one, distinction,
deference, admiration, and all other good things will be added unto him.
A young man, on the other hand, who is born to no such expectations, has
no sycophants around him to pervert his understanding;—when he behaves
improperly, he instantly sees the marks of disapprobation on every
countenance:—He daily meets with people who inform him of his faults
without ceremony or circumlocution.—He perceives that nobody cares for
his bad humour or caprice, and very naturally concludes that he had best
correct his temper.—He finds that he is apt to be neglected in company,
and that the only remedy for this inconveniency will be the rendering
himself agreeable.—He loves affluence, distinction, and admiration, as
well as the rich and great; but becomes fully convinced that he can never
obtain even the shadow of them, otherwise than by useful and ornamental
acquirements. The truth of those precepts, which is proved by rhetoric
and syllogism to the boy of fortune, is experimentally felt by him who
has no fortune; and the difference which this makes, is infinite.
So that the son of a gentleman of moderate fortune has a probability of
knowing more of the world at the age of sixteen, and of having a juster
notion of people’s sentiments of him, than a youth of very high rank at
a much more advanced age; for it is very difficult for any person to find
out that he is despised while he continues to be flattered.
So far, therefore, from being surprised that dissipation, weakness and
ignorance, are so prevalent among those who are born to great fortunes
and high rank, we ought to be astonished to see so great a number of
men of virtue, diligence and genius among them as there is. And if the
number be proportionably greater in England than in any other country,
which I believe is the case, this must proceed from the impartial
discipline of our public schools; and the equitable treatment which boys
of the greatest rank receive from their comrades. Sometimes the natural,
manly sentiments they acquire from their school companions, serve as an
antidote against the childish, sophistical notions with which weak or
designing men endeavour to inspire them in after-life.
The nature of the British constitution contributes also to form a greater
number of men of talents among the wealthy and the great, than are to be
found in other countries; because it opens a wider field for ambition
than any other government;—and ambition excites those exertions which
produce talents.
But, continued I, you must acknowledge that it would be improper to form
a judgment of the English genius, by samples taken from men who have
greater temptations to indolence, and fewer spurs to application than
others.
My disputant still contested the point, and asserted that high birth gave
a native dignity and elevation to the mind;—that distinctions and honours
were originally introduced into families by eminent abilities and great
virtues;—that when a man of illustrious birth came into a company, or
even when his name was mentioned, this naturally raised a recollection
of the great actions and shining qualities of the eminent person who
had first acquired those honours;—that a consciousness of this must
naturally stimulate the present possessor to imitate the virtues of his
ancestors;—that his degenerating would subject him to the highest degree
of censure, as the world could not, without indignation, behold indolence
and vice adorned with the rewards of activity and virtue.
I might have disputed this assertion, that honours and titles are always
the rewards of virtue; and could have produced abundance of instances of
the opposite proposition. But I allowed that they often were so, and that
hereditary honours in a family always ought to have, and sometimes had,
the effect which he supposed: but these concessions being made in their
fullest extent, still he would do injustice to the English, by forming
a judgment of their national character from what he had observed of the
temper, manners, and genius of those Englishmen with whom he had been
acquainted in foreign countries; because three-fourths of them were, in
all probability, men of fortune, without having family or high birth
to boast of; so that they had the greatest inducements to indolence,
without possessing the motives to virtuous exertions, which influence
people of high rank.—For, though it rarely happened in other countries,
it was very common in England for men of all the various professions and
trades to accumulate very great fortunes, which, at their death, falling
to their sons, these young men, without having had a suitable education,
immediately set up for gentlemen, and run over Europe in the characters
of Milords Anglois, game, purchase pictures, mutilated statues and
mistresses, to the astonishment of all beholders: And, conscious of the
blot in their escutcheon, they think it is incumbent on them to wash it
out, and make up for the impurity of their blood, by plunging deeper
into the ocean of extravagance than is necessary for a man of hereditary
fashion.
Here our conversation ended, and the gentleman promised that he would
abide by the idea he had formed of the English nation from the works of
Milton, Locke and Newton, and the characters of Raleigh, Hambden, and
Sidney.