Letters to His Son 1748 | Page 7

much
as to say, that he will curl your hair and shave you, but not condescend
to do anything else. I therefore advise you, never to have a servant out
of livery; and, though you may not always think proper to carry the
servant who dresses you abroad in the rain and dirt, behind a coach or
before a chair, yet keep it in your power to do so, if you please, by
keeping him in livery.
I have seen Monsieur and Madame Flemming, who gave me a very
good account of you, and of your manners, which to tell you the plain
truth, were what I doubted of the most. She told me, that you were easy,
and not ashamed: which is a great deal for an Englishman at your age.
I set out for Bath to-morrow, for a month; only to be better than well,
and enjoy, in, quiet, the liberty which I have acquired by the
resignation of the seals. You shall hear from me more at large from
thence; and now good night to you.

LETTER XXIX
BATH, February 18, O. S. 1748.
DEAR BOY: The first use that I made of my liberty was to come here,
where I arrived yesterday. My health, though not fundamentally bad yet,
for want of proper attention of late, wanted some repairs, which these
waters never fail giving it. I shall drink them a month, and return to
London, there to enjoy the comforts of social life, instead of groaning
under the load of business. I have given the description of the life that I
propose to lead for the future, in this motto, which I have put up in the
frize of my library in my new house:--
Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno, et inertibus horis Ducere sollicitae
jucunda oblivia vitas.
I must observe to you upon this occasion, that the uninterrupted
satisfaction which I expect to find in that library, will be chiefly owing
to my having employed some part of my life well at your age. I wish I
had employed it better, and my satisfaction would now be complete;
but, however, I planted while young, that degree of knowledge which is
now my refuge and my shelter. Make your plantations still more
extensive; they will more than pay you for your trouble. I do not regret
the time that I passed in pleasures; they were seasonable; they were the
pleasures of youth, and I enjoyed them while young. If I had not, I
should probably have overvalued them now, as we are very apt to do
what we do not know; but, knowing them as I do, I know their real
value, and how much they are generally overrated. Nor do I regret the
time that I have passed in business, for the same reason; those who see
only the outside of it, imagine it has hidden charms, which they pant
after; and nothing but acquaintance can undeceive them. I, who have
been behind the scenes, both of pleasure and business, and have seen
all the springs and pullies of those decorations which astonish and
dazzle the audience, retire, not only without regret, but with
contentment and satisfaction. But what I do, and ever shall regret, is the
time which, while young, I lost in mere idleness, and in doing nothing.
This is the common effect of the inconsideracy of youth, against which
I beg you will be most carefully upon your guard. The value of
moments, when cast up, is immense, if well employed; if thrown away,
their loss is irrecoverable. Every moment may be put to some use, and
that with much more pleasure, than if unemployed. Do not imagine,

that by the employment of time, I mean an uninterrupted application to
serious studies. No; pleasures are, at proper times, both as necessary
and as useful; they fashion and form you for the world; they teach you
characters, and show you the human heart in its unguarded minutes.
But then remember to make that use of them. I have known many
people, from laziness of mind, go through both pleasure and business
with equal inattention; neither enjoying the one, nor doing the other;
thinking themselves men of pleasure, because they were mingled with
those who were, and men of business, because they had business to do,
though they did not do it. Whatever you do, do it to the purpose; do it
thoroughly, not superficially. 'Approfondissez': go to the bottom of
things. Any thing half done or half known, is, in my mind, neither done
nor known at all. Nay worse, it often misleads. There is hardly any
place or any company, where you may not gain knowledge, if you
please; almost everybody knows some one thing, and is glad to talk
upon that one