Letters to His Son 1753-54 | Page 5

both true, because I am very willing
that the cares of the French government should be employed and
confined to themselves.
Your friend, the Electress Palatine, has sent me six wild boars' heads,
and other 'pieces de sa chasse', in return for the fans, which she
approved of extremely. This present was signified to me by one Mr.

Harold, who wrote me a letter in very indifferent English; I suppose he
is a Dane who has been in England.
Mr. Harte came to town yesterday, and dined with me to-day. We
talked you over; and I can assure you, that though a parson, and no
member 'du beau monde', he thinks all the most shining
accomplishments of it full as necessary for you as I do. His expression
was, THAT IS ALL THAT HE WANTS; BUT IF HE WANTS THAT,
CONSIDERING HIS SITUATION AND DESTINATION, HE
MIGHT AS WELL WANT EVERYTHING ELSE.
This is the day when people reciprocally offer and receive the kindest
and the warmest wishes, though, in general, without meaning them on
one side, or believing them on the other. They are formed by the head,
in compliance with custom, though disavowed by the heart, in
consequence of nature. His wishes upon this occasion are the best that
are the best turned; you do not, I am sure, doubt the truth of mine, and
therefore I will express them with a Quaker-like simplicity. May this
new year be a very new one indeed to you; may you put off the old, and
put on the new man! but I mean the outward, not the, inward man. With
this alteration, I might justly sum up all my wishes for you in these
words:
Dii tibi dent annos, de to nam caetera sumes.
This minute, I receive your letter of the 26th past, which gives me a
very disagreeable reason for your late silence. By the symptoms which
you mention of your illness, I both hope and believe that it was wholly
owing to your own want of care. You are rather inclined to be fat, you
have naturally a good stomach, and you eat at the best tables; which
must of course make you plethoric: and upon my word you will be very
subject to these accidents, if you will not, from time to time, when you
find yourself full, heated, or your head aching, take some little, easy,
preventative purge, that would not confine you; such as chewing a little
rhubarb when you go to bed at night; or some senna tea in the morning.
You do very well to live extremely low, for some time; and I could
wish, though I do not expect it, that you would take one gentle vomit;
for those giddinesses and swimmings in the head always proceed from
some foulness of the stomach. However, upon the whole, I am very
glad that your old complaint has not mixed itself with this, which I am
fully convinced arises simply from your own negligence. Adieu.

I am sorry for Monsieur Kurze, upon his sister's account.

LETTER CLXXXVI
LONDON, January 15, 1753
MY DEAR FRIEND: I never think my time so well employed, as when
I think it employed to your advantage. You have long had the greatest
share of it; you now engross it. The moment is now decisive; the piece
is going to be exhibited to the public; the mere out lines and the general
coloring are not sufficient to attract the eyes and to secure applause; but
the last finishing, artful, and delicate strokes are necessary. Skillful
judges will discern and acknowledge their merit; the ignorant will,
without knowing why, feel their power. In that view, I have thrown
together, for your perusal, some maxims; or, to speak more properly,
observations on men and things; for I have no merit as to the invention:
I am no system monger; and, instead of giving way to my imagination,
I have only consulted my memory; and my conclusions are all drawn
from facts, not from fancy. Most maxim mongers have preferred the
prettiness to the justness of a thought, and the turn to the truth; but I
have refused myself to everything that my own experience did not
justify and confirm. I wish you would consider them seriously, and
separately, and recur to them again 'pro re nata' in similar cases. Young
men are as apt to think themselves wise enough, as drunken men are to
think themselves sober enough. They look upon spirit to be a much
better thing than experience; which they call coldness. They are but
half mistaken; for though spirit, without experience, is dangerous,
experience, without spirit, is languid and defective. Their union, which
is very rare, is perfection; you may join them, if you please; for all my
experience