["176 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS", "self the Protector. He was a very brave, and a very able man; and carried the honour of England to the highest pitch of glory; making himself both feared and respected by all the Powers in Europe. He got us the island of Jamaica from the Spaniards; and Dunkirk, which Charles the Second shamefully fold afterwards to the French. He died in about ten years after he had unfurped the government, which he left to his son Richard; who, being a blockhead, could not keep it; so that King Charles the Second was restored, by the means of General Monk, who was then at the head of the Army.", "King Charles the Second, who, during the life of Cromwell, had been wandering about from one country to another, instead of profiting by his adversities, had only collected the vices of all the countries he had been in. He had no religion, or, if any, was a Papist; and his brother, the Duke of York, was a declared one. He gave all he had to whores and favourites; and was so nefarious, that he became a pensioner to France. He lived unclosely with his people and his Parliament; and was at last poisoned. As he died without children, he was succeeded by his brother, the Duke of York, then", "King James the Second; who was of a four, cruel, and tyrannical dispossession, and a zealous Papist: he resolved at once to be above the laws, make himself absolute, and establish Power; upon which the nation, very wifely and justly, turned him out, before he had reigned quite four years; and called the Prince of Orange, from Holland, who had married King James's eldest daughter, Mary.", "The Prince and Princes of Orange were then declared, by Parliament, King and Queen of England, by the title of King William the II and Queen Mary; and this is called the Revolution.", "Queen Mary was an excellent Princes; but she died seven years before King William, without children. King William was", "TO HIS SON.", "was a brave and warlike King: he would have been glad of more power than he ought to have; but his Parliaments kept him within due bounds, againft his will. To this Revolution we again owe our liberties. King William, dying without children, was succeeded by Queen Ann, the second daughter of King James the Second.", "The reign of Queen Ann was a glorious one, by the successes of her arms againft France, under the Duke of Marlborough. As she died without children, the family of the Stuarts ended in her; and the crown went to the House of Hanover, as the next Protestant family: so that she was succeeded by King George the First, father of the present King.", "LETTER LXXI.", "Saturday.", "SIR,", "THE fame of your erudition, and other shining qualifications, having reached to Lord Orrery, he defired me, that you might dine with him and his son, Lord Boyle, next Sunday; which I told him, you should. By this time, I fuppose, you have heard from him; but, if you have not, you muſt, however, go there between two and three to-morrow, and lay, that you come to wait upon Lord Boyle, according to his Lordship's orders, which I informed you of. As this will deprive me of the honour and pleasure of your company at dinner to-morrow, I will hope for it at breakfast, and ſhall take care to have your chocolate ready.", "Though I need not tell one of your age, experience, and knowledge of the world, how neeſtly good-breeding is, to recommend\nVOL. I.\nA 2\n\nA 2\n\nA 2\n\nA

178 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

mend one to mankind; yet, as your various occupations of Greek
and cricket, Latin and pitch-farthing, may poffibly divert your at-
tention from this object, I take the liberty of reminding you of it,
and defiring you to be very well-bred at Lord Orrery's. It is good-
breeding alone that can prepossess people in your favour at firſt
fight: more time being neceſſary to diſcover greater talents. This
good-breeding, you know, does not confift in low bows and formal
ceremony; but in an eafy, civil, and reſpectful behaviour. You
will therefore take care to anſwer with complaifance, when you are
ſpoken to; to place yourſelf at the lower end of the table, unleſs bid
to go higher; to drink firſt to the Lady of the houſe, and next to
the maſter; not to eat awkwardly or dirtily; not to fit when
others ſtand: and to do all this with an air of complaifance, and
not with a grave, four look, as if you did it all unwillingly. I do
not mean a filly, infipid ſmile, that fools have when they would be
civil; but an air of ſenſible good humour. I hardly know any
thing fo difficult to attain, or fo neceſſary to poffeſs, as perſect
good-breeding; which is equally inconfiſtent with a ſtiff forma-
lity, an impertinent forwardneſs, and an awkward bathfulneſs.
A little ceremony is often neceſſary; a certain degree of firmneſs
is abſolutely fo; and an outward modeſty is extremely becoming:
the knowledge of the world, and your own obſervations, muſt,
and alone can, tell you the proper quantities of each.

Mr. Fitzgerald was with me yefterday, and commended you
much: go on to deferve commendations, and you will certainly
meet with them. Adieu.

LETTER

TO HIS SON.

179

LETTER LXXII.

Friday Morning.

DEAR BOY,

I
Am very well pleafed with the ſubſtance of your letter; and
as for the inaccuracies with regard to ſtyle and grammar, you
could have corrected them all yourſelf, if you had taken time.
I return it to you here corrected, and define that you will attend
to the difference, which is the way to avoid the fame faults for
the future.

I would have your letter, next Thursday, be in English, and
let it be written as accurately as you are able; I mean with re-
ſpect to the language, grammar, and stops; for, as to the matter
of it, the leſs trouble you give yourſelf, the better it will be.
Letters ſhould be eafy and natural, and convey to the perſons
to whom we ſend them, juſt what we would ſay to thofe perſons,
if we were with them. You may as well write it on the Wed-
neſday, at your leifure, and leave it to be given to my man, when
he comes for it on Thursday.

Monfieur Coderc will go to you three times a week;
Tueſdays and Saturdays, at three of the clock, and Thurſdays at
five. He will read Modern Hiftory with you; and, at the fame
time, inſtruet you in Geography and Chronology; without both
which, the knowledge of Hiftory is very imperſeſt, and almoſt uſeleſs.
I beg, therefore, that you will give great attention to them; they
will be of the greatest uſe to you.

As I know you do not love to ſtay long in the fame place, I
flatter myſelf, that you will take care not to remain long in that
you have got, in the middle of the third form: it is in your own
power to be ſoon out of it, if you pleafe; and I hope the love
of variety will tempt you.

A a 2

Pray

180 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

Pray be very attentive and obedient to Mr. Fitzgerald: I am particularly obliged to him for undertaking the care of you; and if you are diligent, and mind your bufinefs when with him, you will rife very faft in the school. Every remove (you know) is to be attended by a reward from me, befides the credit you will gain for yourfelf; which, to fo great a foul as yours, I prefume, is a stronger inducement than any other reward can be; but, however, you fhall have one. I know very well you will not be eafy, till you are got above After Onflow; but, as he learns very well, I fear you will never be able to do it, at leaft not without taking more pains than, I believe, you will care to take; but, fhoufd that ever happen, there fhall be a very confiderable reward for you, befides Fame.

Let me know, in your next, what books you read in your place at school, and what you do with Mr. Fitzgerald. Adieu.

LETTER LXXIII.

DEAR BOY,

Dublin, January the 25th, 1745.

AS there are now four mails due from England, one of which, at leaft, will, I fuppofe, bring me a letter from you, I take this opportunity of acknowledging it before-hand, that you may not accufe me (as you once or twice have done) of negligence. I am very glad to find, by your letter which I am to receive, that you are determined to apply yourfelf feriously to your bufineſs; to attend to what you learn, in order to learn it well; and to reflect and reafon upon what you have learned, that your learning may be of uſe to you. These are very good refolutions, and I applaud you mightily for them. Now for your laft letter, which I have received,

Lord Chesterfield was then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland; he became aomer letters from there have been supported.

TO HIS SON.

received. You rebuke me very severely for not knowing, or at leaft not remembering, that you have been fome time in the fifth form. Here, I confefs, I am at a loſs what to fay for myfelf; for, on the one hand, I own it is not probable that you would not, at the time, have communicated an event of that importance to me; and, on the other hand, it is not likely, that, if you had inſformed me of it, I could have forgotten it. You fay that it happened ſix months ago; in which, with all due ſubmittion to you, I apprehend you are miſtaken, becauſe that muſt have been before I left England, which I am ſure it was not; and it does not appear, in any of your original manuſcripts, that it happened ſince. May not this poſſibly proceed from the ofſcitancy of the writer? To this ofſcitancy of the librarians, we owe ſo many miſtakes, hiatus's, lacunæ, &c. in the ancient manuſcripts. It may here be neceſsary to explain to you the meaning of the *Oſcitantes librarii*; which, I believe, you will eafily take. These perſons (before printing was invented) tranſcribed the works of authors, ſometimeſ for their own profit, but oftener (as they were generally ſlaves) for the profit of their maſters. In the firſt cafe, diſpatch, more than accuracy, was their object; for the faſter they wrote the more they got: in the latter cafe (obſerve this) as it was a tafk impoſed on them, which they did not dare to refuse, they were idle, careſſs, and incorreſſ; not giving themſelves the trouble to read over what they had written.

The celebrated Atticus kept a great number of theſe tranſcribing ſlaves, and got great sums of money by their labours. But, to return now to your fifth form, from whence I have ſtrayed, it may be, too long; Pray what do you do in that country? Be ſo kind as to give me a deſcription of it. What Latin and Greek books do you read there? Are your exerciſes, exerciſes of invention? Or do you ſtill put the bad English of the pſalms into bad Latin,

6

Latin,

182 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

Latin, and only change the shape of Latin verse, from long to short, and from short to long? People do not improve, fingly, by traveling, but by the observations they make, and by keeping good company where they do travel. So, I hope, in your travels, through the fifth form, you keep company with Horace and Cicero, among the Romans; and Homer and Xenophon, among the Greeks; and that you are got out of the worst company in the world, the Greek epigrams. Martial has wit, and is worth your looking into sometimes; but I recommend the Greek epigrams to your supreme contempt. Good night to you.

LETTER LXXIV.

Dublin Castle, November the 19th, 1745.

DEAR BOY,

I Have received your last Saturday's performance, with which I am very well satisfied. I know nor have heard of no Mr. St. Maurice here; and young Pain, whom I have made an Ensign, was here upon the spot, as were every one of those I have named in these new levies.

Now, that the Christmas breaking-up draws near, I have ordered Mr. Defnoyers to go to you, during that time, to teach you to dance. I define you will particularly attend to the graceful motion of your arms; which, with the manner of putting on your hat, and giving your hand, is all that a gentleman need attend to. Dancing is in itself a very trifling, filly thing; but it is one of those established follies to which people of sense are sometimes obliged to conform; and then they should be able to do it well. And, though I would not have you a dancer, yet, when you do dance,

2

TO HIS SON.

183

dance, I would have you dance well, as I would have you do every thing, you do, well. There is no one thing so trifling, but which (if it is to be done at all) ought to be done well. And I have often told you, that I wifhed you even played at pitch, and cricket, better than any boy at Westminfter. For instance: dres is a very foolish thing; and yet it is a very foolish thing for a man not to be well dresfed, according to his rank and way of life; and it is so far from being a difparagement to any man's understanding, that it is rather a proof of it, to be as well dresfed as those whom he lives with: the difference in this cafe, between a man of senfe and a fop, is, that the fop values himfelf upon his dres; and the man of senfe laughs at it, at the fame time that he knows he muft not neglect it: there are a thousand foolifh cuftoms of this kind, which, not being criminal, muft be complied with, and even chearfully, by men of senfe. Diogenes the Cynic was a wife man for deſpifing them; but a fool for showing it. Be wifer than other people, if you can; but do not tell them so.

It is a very fortunate thing for Sir Charles Hotham, to have fallen into the hands of one of your age, experience, and knowledge of the world; I am perfuaded you will take infinite care of him. Good night.

LETTER LXXV.

Dublin Castle, February the 8th, 1746.

SIR,

I Have been honoured with two lettres from you, since I troubled you with my laft; and I have likewife received a letter from Mr. Morel, containing a short, but beautiful manu-
script.

LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

184

script, said to be yours; but, I confess, I can hardly believe it, because it is so very different from your common writing; and I will not fuppofe that you do not always write as well as you can; for to do any thing ill, that one can do well, is a degree of negligence, which I can never fuppect you of. I always applauded your laudable ambition of excelling in every thing you attempted; and therefore make no doubt but that you will, in a little time, be able to write full as well as the perfon (whoever he was) that wrote that manuſcript, which is said to be yours. People like you have a contempt for mediocrity, and are not satisfied with eſcaping cenſure; they aim at praeſe, and, by defiring, ſeldom fail deſerving and acquiring it.

You propofe, I find, Demofthenes for your model; and you have choſen very well: but remember the pains he took to be what he was. He ſpoke near the fea, in ſtorms, both to uſe himſelf to ſpeak loud, and not to be diſturbed by the noife and tumult of public aſſemblies; he put ſtones in his mouth, to help his elocution, which naturally was not advantageous: from which faſts I conclude, that, whenever he ſpoke, he opened both his lips and his teeth; and that he articulated every word and every ſyllable diſtinetly, and full loud enough to be heard the whole length of my library.

As he took ſo much pains for the graces of oratory only, I conclude he took ſill more for the more ſolid parts of it. I am apt to think he applied himſelf extremely, to the propriety, the purity, and the elegancy of his language; to the diſtribution of the parts of his oration; to the force of his arguments; to the ſtrength of his proofs; and to the paſſions, as well as the judgments of his audience. I fancy he began with an *exordium*, to gain the good opinion and the affeétions of his audience; that afterwards he ſtated the point in queſtion, briefly, but clearly; that

TO HIS SON.

185

that he then brought his proofs, afterwards his arguments; and that he concluded with a *peroratio*, in which he recapitulated the whole ſuccinctly, enforced the ſtrong parts, and artfully ſipped over the weak ones; and at laſt made his ſtrong pufh at the paſſions of his hearers. Wherever you would perſuade or prevail, addrefs yourſelf to the paſſions; it is by them that mankind is to be taken. Cefar bid his ſoldiers, at the battle of Pharſalia, aim at the faces of Pompey's men; they did ſo, and prevailed. I bid you ſtrike at the paſſions; and if you do, you too will prevail. If you can once engage people's pride, love, pity, ambition (or whichever is their prevailing paſſion) on your ſide, you need not fear what their reaſon can do againſt you.

I am, with the greatest ſ respect,

Your, &c.

LETTER LXXVI.

Dublin, February the 26th, 1746.

Sunt quibus in Satirâ videar nimis acer.

I Find, Sir, you are one of thofe; though I cannot imagine why you think ſo, unleſs ſomething that I have faid, very innocently, has happened to be very applicable to somebody or other of your acquaintance. He makes the fatire, who applies it, *qui capit ille facit*. I hope you do not think I meant you, by any thing I have faid; because, if you do, it ſeems to imply a conſciouſneſs of ſome guilt, which I dare not preſume to fuppofe, in your cafe. I know my duty too well, to exprefs, and your merit too well, to entertain, ſuch a ſupſicion. I have not lately

B b