LONDON,September 12,O.S.1749.
DEAR BOY:It seems extraordinary,but it is very true,that my anxiety for you increases in proportion to the good accounts which I receive of you from all hands.I promise myself so much from you,that I dread the least disappointment.You are now so near the port,which I have so long wished and labored to bring you safe into,that my concern would be doubled,should you be shipwrecked within sight of it.The object,therefore,of this letter is (laying aside all the authority of a parent)to conjure you as a friend,by the affection you have for me (and surely you have reason to have some),and by the regard you have for yourself,to go on,with assiduity and attention,to complete that work which,of late,you have carried on so well,and which is now so near being finished.My wishes and my plan were to make you shine and distinguish yourself equally in the learned and the polite world.Few have been able to do it.Deep learning is generally tainted with pedantry,or at least unadorned by manners:as,on the other hand,polite manners and the turn of the world are too often unsupported by knowledge,and consequently end contemptibly,in the frivolous dissipation of drawing-rooms and ruelles.
You are now got over the dry and difficult parts of learning;what remains requires much more time than trouble.You have lost time by your illness;you must regain it now or never.I therefore most earnestly desire,for your own sake,that for these next six months,at least six hours every morning,uninterruptedly,may be inviolably sacred to your studies with Mr.Harte.I do not know whether he will require so much;but I know that I do,and hope you will,and consequently prevail with him to give you that time;I own it is a good deal:but when both you and he consider that the work will be so much better,and so much sooner done,by such an assiduous and continued application,you will,neither of you,think it too much,and each will find his account in it.So much for the mornings,which from your own good sense,and Mr.Harte's tenderness and care of you,will,I am sure,be thus well employed.
It is not only reasonable,but useful too,that your evenings should be devoted to amusements and pleasures:and therefore I not only allow,but recommend,that they should be employed at assemblies,balls,SPECTACLES,and in the best companies;with this restriction only,that the consequences of the evening's diversions may not break in upon the morning's studies,by breakfastings,visits,and idle parties into the country.At your age,you need not be ashamed,when any of these morning parties are proposed,to say that you must beg to be excused,for you are obliged to devote your mornings to Mr.Harte;that I will have it so;and that you dare not do otherwise.Lay it all upon me;though I am persuaded it will be as much your own inclination as it is mine.But those frivolous,idle people,whose time hangs upon their own hands,and who desire to make others lose theirs too,are not to be reasoned with:
and indeed it would be doing them too much honor.The shortest civil answers are the best;I CANNOT,I DARE NOT,instead of I WILL NOT;for if you were to enter with them into the necessity of study end the usefulness of knowledge,it would only furnish them with matter for silly jests;which,though I would not have you mind,I would not have you invite.I will suppose you at Rome studying six hours uninterruptedly with Mr.Harte,every morning,and passing your evenings with the best company of Rome,observing their manners and forming your own;and I will suppose a number of idle,sauntering,illiterate English,as there commonly is there,living entirely with one another,supping,drinking,and sitting up late at each other's lodgings;commonly in riots and scrapes when drunk,and never in good company when sober.I will take one of these pretty fellows,and give you the dialogue between him and yourself;such as,I dare say,it will be on his side;and such as,Ihope,it will be on yours:--
Englishman.Will you come and breakfast with me tomorrow?there will be four or five of our countrymen;we have provided chaises,and we will drive somewhere out of town after breakfast.
Stanhope.I am very sorry I cannot;but I am obliged to be at home all morning.
Englishman.Why,then,we will come and breakfast with you.
Stanhope.I can't do that neither;I am engaged.
Englishman.Well,then,let it be the next day.
Stanhope.To tell you the truth,it can be no day in the morning;for Ineither go out,nor see anybody at home before twelve.
Englishman.And what the devil do you do with yourself till twelve o'clock?
Stanhope.I am not by myself;I am with Mr.Harte.
Englishman.Then what the devil do you do with him?
Stanhope.We study different things;we read,we converse.
Englishman.Very pretty amusement indeed!Are you to take orders then?
Stanhope.Yes,my father's orders,I believe I must take.
Englishman.Why hast thou no more spirit,than to mind an old fellow a thousand miles off?
Stanhope.If I don't mind his orders he won't mind my draughts.
Englishman.What,does the old prig threaten then?threatened folks live long;never mind threats.
Stanhope.No,I can't say that he has ever threatened me in his life;but I believe I had best not provoke him.
Englishman.Pooh!you would have one angry letter from the old fellow,and there would be an end of it.
Stanhope.You mistake him mightily;he always does more than he says.
