letters to his son, 1752-第9节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


said；　'oderint　modo　timeant'；　a　wise　man　would　have　said；　'modo　ament　nihil　timendum　est　mihi'。　　Judge　from　your　own　daily　experience；　of　the　efficacy　of　that　pleasing　'je　ne　sais　quoi'；　when　you　feel；　as　you　and　everybody　certainly　does；　that　in　men　it　is　more　engaging　than　knowledge；　in　women　than　beauty。

I　long　to　see　Lord　and　Lady　…　（who　are　not　yet　arrived）；　because　they　have　lately　seen　you；　and　I　always　fancy；　that　I　can　fish　out　something　new　concerning　you；　from　those　who　have　seen　you　last：　not　that　I　shall　much　rely　upon　their　accounts；　because　I　distrust　the　judgment　of　Lord　and　Lady　…；　in　those　matters　about　which　I　am　most　inquisitive。　　They　have　ruined　their　own　son　by　what　they　called　and　thought　loving　him。　　They　have　made　him　believe　that　the　world　was　made　for　him；　not　he　for　the　world；　and　unless　he　stays　abroad　a　great　while；　and　falls　into　very　good　company；　he　will　expect；　what　he　will　never　find；　the　attentions　and　complaisance　from　others；　which　he　has　hitherto　been　used　to　from　Papa　and　Mamma。　　This；　I　fear；　is　too　much　the　case　of　Mr。；　who；　I　doubt；　will　be　run　through　the　body；　and　be　near　dying；　before　he　knows　how　to　live。　　However　you　may　turn　out；　you　can　never　make　me　any　of　these　reproaches。　　I　indulged　no　silly；　womanish　fondness　for　you；　instead　of　inflicting　my　tenderness　upon　you；　I　have　taken　all　possible　methods　to　make　you　deserve　it；　and　thank　God　you　do；　at　least；　I　know　but　one　article；　in　which　you　are　different　from　what　I　could　wish　you；　and　you　very　well　know　what　that　is　I　want：　That　I　and　all　the　world　should　like　you；　as　well　as　I　love　you。　　Adieu。




LETTER　CLXV

LONDON；　April　30；　O。　S。　　1752。

MY　DEAR　FRIEND：　'Avoir　du　monde'　is；　in　my　opinion；　a　very　just　and　happy　expression　for　having　address；　manners；　and　for　knowing　how　to　behave　properly　in　all　companies；　and　it　implies　very　truly　that　a　man　who　hath　not　those　accomplishments　is　not　of　the　world。　　Without　them；　the　best　parts　are　inefficient；　civility　is　absurd；　and　freedom　offensive。　　A　learned　parson；　rusting　in　his　cell；　at　Oxford　or　Cambridge；　will　season　admirably　well　upon　the　nature　of　man；　will　profoundly　analyze　the　head；　the　heart；　the　reason；　the　will；　the　passions；　the　senses；　the　sentiments；　and　all　those　subdivisions　of　we　know　not　what；　and　yet；　unfortunately；　he　knows　nothing　of　man；　for　he　hath　not　lived　with　him；　and　is　ignorant　of　all　the　various　modes；　habits；　prejudices；　and　tastes；　that　always　influence　and　often　determine　him。　　He　views　man　as　he　does　colors　in　Sir　Isaac　Newton's　prism；　where　only　the　capital　ones　are　seen；　but　an　experienced　dyer　knows　all　their　various　shades　and　gradations；　together　with　the　result　of　their　several　mixtures。　　Few　men　are　of　one　plain；　decided　color；　most　are　mixed；　shaded；　and　blended；　and　vary　as　much；　from　different　situations；　as　changeable　silks　do　form　different　lights。　　The　man　'qui　a　du　monde'　knows　all　this　from　his　own　experience　and　observation：　the　conceited；　cloistered　philosopher　knows　nothing　of　it　from　his　own　theory；　his　practice　is　absurd　and　improper；　and　he　acts　as　awkwardly　as　a　man　would　dance；　who　had　never　seen　others　dance；　nor　learned　of　a　dancing…master；　but　who　had　only　studied　the　notes　by　which　dances　are　now　pricked　down　as　well　as　tunes。　　Observe　and　imitate；　then；　the　address；　the　arts；　and　the　manners　of　those　'qui　ont　du　monde'：　see　by　what　methods　they　first　make；　and　afterward　improve　impressions　in　their　favor。　　Those　impressions　are　much　oftener　owing　to　little　causes　than　to　intrinsic　merit；　which　is　less　volatile；　and　hath　not　so　sudden　an　effect。　　Strong　minds　have　undoubtedly　an　ascendant　over　weak　ones；　as　Galigai　Marachale　d'Ancre　very　justly　observed；　when；　to　the　disgrace　and　reproach　of　those　times；　she　was　executed　for　having　governed　Mary　of　Medicis　by　the　arts　of　witchcraft　and　magic。　　But　then　ascendant　is　to　be　gained　by　degrees；　and　by　those　arts　only　which　experience　and　the　knowledge　of　the　world　teaches；　for　few　are　mean　enough　to　be　bullied；　though　most　are　weak　enough　to　be　bubbled。　　I　have　often　seen　people　of　superior；　governed　by　people　of　much　inferior　parts；　without　knowing　or　even　suspecting　that　they　were　so　governed。　　This　can　only　happen　when　those　people　of　inferior　parts　have　more　worldly　dexterity　and　experience；　than　those　they　govern。　　They　see　the　weak　and　unguarded　part；　and　apply　to　it　they　take　it；　and　all　the　rest　follows。　　Would　you　gain　either　men　or　women；　and　every　man　of　sense　desires　to　gain　both；　'il　faut　du　monde'。　　You　have　had　more　opportunities　than　ever　any　man　had；　at　your　age；　of　acquiring　'ce　monde'。　　You　have　been　in　the　best　companies　of　most　countries；　at　an　age　when　others　have　hardly　been　in　any　company　at　all。　　You　are　master　of　all　those　languages；　which　John　Trott　seldom　speaks　at　all；　and　never　well；　consequently　you　need　be　a　stranger　nowhere。　　This　is　the　way；　and　the　only　way；　of　having　'du　monde'；　but　if　you　have　it　not；　and　have　still　any　coarse　rusticity　about　you；　may　not　one　apply　to　you　the　'rusticus　expectat'　of　Horace？

This　knowledge　of　the　world　teaches　us　more　particularly　two　things；　both　which　are　of　infinite　consequence；　and　to　neither　of　which　nature　inclines　us；　I　mean；　the　command　of　our　temper；　and　of　our　countenance。　A　man　who　has　no　'monde'　is　inflamed　with　anger；　or　annihilated　with　shame；　at　every　disagreeable　incident：　the　one　makes　him　act　and　talk　like　a　madman；　the　other　makes　him　look　like　a　fool。　　But　a　man　who　has　'du　monde'；　seems　not　to　understand　what　he　cannot　or　ought　not　to　resent。　　If　he　makes　a　slip　himself；　he　recovers　it　by　his　coolness；　instead　of　plunging　deeper　by　his　confusion　like　a　stumbling　horse。　He　is　firm；　but　gentle；　and　practices　that　most　excellent　maxim；　'suaviter　in　modo；　fortiter　in　re'。　　The　other　is　the　'volto　sciolto　a　pensieri　stretti'。　　People　unused　to　the　world　have　babbling　countenances；　and　are　unskillful　enough　to　show　what　they　have　sense　enough　not　to　tell。　　In　the　course　of　the　world；　a　man　must　very　often　put　on　an　easy；　frank　countenance；　upon　very　disagreeable　occasions；　he　must　seem　pleased　when　he　is　very　much　otherwise；　he　must　be　able　to　accost　and　receive　with　smiles；　those　whom　he　would　much　rather　meet　with　swords。　　In　courts　he　must　not　turn　himself　inside　out。　　All　this　may；　nay　must　be　done；　without　falsehood　and　treachery；　for　it　must　go　no　further　than　politeness　and　manners；　and　must　stop　short　of　assurances　and　professions　of　simulated　friendship。　　Good　manners；　to　those　one　does　not　love；　are　no　more　a　breach　of　truth；　than　〃your　humble　servant〃　at　the　bottom　of　a　challenge　is；　they　are　universally　agreed　upon　and　understood；　to　be　things　of　course。　　They　are　necessary　guards　of　the　decency　and　peace　of　society；　they　must　only　act　defensively；　and　then　not　with　arms　poisoned　by　perfidy。　　Truth；　but　not　the　whole　truth；　must　be　the　invariable　principle　of　every　man；　who　hath　either　religion；　honor；　or　prudence。　　Those　who　violate　it　may　be　cunning；　but　they　are　not　able。　　Lies　and　perfidy　are　the　refuge　of　fools　and　cowards。　　Adieu！

P。　S。　　I　must　recommend　to　you　again；　to　take　your　leave　of　all　your　French　acquaintance；　in　such　a　manner　as　may　make　them　regret　your　departure；　and　wish　to　see　and　welcome　you　at　Paris　again；　where　you　may　possibly　return　before　it　is　very　long。　　This　must　not　be　done　in　a　cold；　civil　manner；　but　with　at　least　seeming　warmth；　sentiment；　and　concern。　Acknowledge　the　obligations　you　have　to　them　for　the　kindness　they　have　shown　you　during　your　stay　at　Paris：　assure　them　that　wherever　you　are；　you　will　remember　them　with　gratitude；　wish　for　opportunities　of　giving　them　proofs　of　your　'plus　tendre　et　respectueux　souvenir；　beg　of　them　in　case　your　good　fortune　should　carry　them　to　any　part　of　the　world　where　you　could　be　of　any　the　least　use　to　them；　that　they　would　employ　you　without　reserve。　　Say　all　this；　and　a　great　deal　more；　emphatically　and　pathetically；　for　you　know　'si　vis　me　flere'。　　This　can　do　you　no　harm；　if　you　never　return　to　Paris；　but　if　you　do；　as　probably　you　may；　it　will　be　of　infinite　use　to　you。　　Remember　too；　not　to　omit　going　to　every　house　where　you　have　ever　been　once；　to　take　leave　and　recommend　yourself　to　their　remembrance。　　The　reputation　which　you　leave　at　one　place；　where　you　have　been；　will　circulate；　and　you　will　meet　with　it　at　twenty　places　where　you　are　to　go。　　That　is　a　labor　never　quite　lost。

This　letter　will　show　you；　that　the　accident　which　happened　to　me　yesterday；　and　of　which　Mr。　Grevenkop　gives　you　account；　hath　had　no　bad　consequences。　　My　escape　was　a　great　one。




LETTER　CLXVI

LONDON；　May　11；　O。　S。　　1752。

DEAR　FRIEND：　I　break　my　word　by　writing　this　letter；　but　I　break　it　on　the　allowable　side；　by　doing　more　than　I　promised。　　I　have　pleasure　in　writing　to　you；　and　you　may　possibly　have　some　profit　in　reading　what　I　write；　either　of　the　motives　were　sufficient　for　me；　both　for　you　I　cannot　withstand。　　By　your　last　I　calculate　that　you　will　leave　Paris　upon　this　day　se'nnight；　upon　that　supposition；　this　letter　may　still　find　you　there。

Colonel　Perry　arrived　here　two　or　three　days　ago；　and　sent　me　a　book　from　you；　Cassandra　abridged。　　I　am　sure　it　cannot　be　too　much　abridged。　　Th