Letters to His Son 1750 | Page 4

entire meal of them. D.W.]

LETTERS TO HIS SON 1750
By the EARL OF CHESTERFIELD
on the Fine Art of becoming a
MAN OF THE WORLD
and a

GENTLEMAN

LETTER C
LONDON, January 8, O. S. 1750
DEAR BOY: I have seldom or never written to you upon the subject of
religion and morality; your own reason, I am persuaded, has given you
true notions of both; they speak best for themselves; but if they wanted
assistance, you have Mr. Harte at hand, both for precept and example;
to your own reason, therefore, and to Mr. Harte, shall I refer you for the
reality of both, and confine myself in this letter to the decency, the
utility, and the necessity of scrupulously preserving the appearances of
both. When I say the appearances of religion, I do not mean that you
should talk or act like a missionary or an enthusiast, nor that you should
take up a controversial cudgel against whoever attacks the sect you are
of; this would be both useless and unbecoming your age; but I mean
that you should by no means seem to approve, encourage, or applaud,
those libertine notions, which strike at religions equally, and which are
the poor threadbare topics of halfwits and minute philosophers. Even
those who are silly enough to laugh at their jokes, are still wise enough
to distrust and detest their characters; for putting moral virtues at the
highest, and religion at the lowest, religion must still be allowed to be a
collateral security, at least, to virtue, and every prudent man will sooner
trust to two securities than to one. Whenever, therefore, you happen to
be in company with those pretended 'Esprits forts', or with thoughtless
libertines, who laugh at all religion to show their wit, or disclaim it, to
complete their riot, let no word or look of yours intimate the least
approbation; on the contrary, let a silent gravity express your dislike:
but enter not into the subject and decline such unprofitable and
indecent controversies. Depend upon this truth, that every man is the
worse looked upon, and the less trusted for being thought to have no
religion; in spite of all the pompous and specious epithets he may
assume, of 'Esprit fort', freethinker, or moral philosopher; and a wise
atheist (if such a thing there is) would, for his own interest and
character in this world, pretend to some religion.
Your moral character must be not only pure, but, like Caesar's wife,
unsuspected. The least speck or blemish upon it is fatal. Nothing
degrades and vilifies more, for it excites and unites detestation and

contempt. There are, however, wretches in the world profligate enough
to explode all notions of moral good and evil; to maintain that they are
merely local, and depend entirely upon the customs and fashions of
different countries; nay, there are still, if possible, more unaccountable
wretches; I mean those who affect to preach and propagate such absurd
and infamous notions without believing them themselves. These are the
devil's hypocrites. Avoid, as much as possible, the company of such
people; who reflect a degree of discredit and infamy upon all who
converse with them. But as you may, sometimes, by accident, fall into
such company, take great care that no complaisance, no good-humor,
no warmth of festal mirth, ever make you seem even to acquiesce,
much less to approve or applaud, such infamous doctrines. On the other
hand, do not debate nor enter into serious argument upon a subject so
much below it: but content yourself with telling these APOSTLES that
you know they are not, serious; that you have a much better opinion of
them than they would have you have; and that, you are very sure, they
would not practice the doctrine they preach. But put your private mark
upon them, and shun them forever afterward.
There is nothing so delicate as your moral character, and nothing which
it is your interest so much to preserve pure. Should you be suspected of
injustice, malignity, perfidy, lying, etc., all the parts and knowledge in
the world will never procure you esteem, friendship, or respect. A
strange concurrence of circumstances has sometimes raised very bad
men to high stations, but they have been raised like criminals to a
pillory, where their persons and their crimes, by being more
conspicuous, are only the more known, the more detested, and the more
pelted and insulted. If, in any case whatsoever, affectation and
ostentation are pardonable, it is in the case of morality; though even
there, I would not advise you to a pharisaical pomp of virtue. But I will
recommend to you a most scrupulous tenderness for your moral
character, and the utmost care not to say or do the least thing that may
ever