Letters to His Son on the Art of Becoming a Man of the World and a Gentleman

<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0282" id="link2H_4_0282"></SPAN></p> <h2> LETTER CCLXXXI </h2> <h3> LONDON, October 25, 1765 </h3> <p>MY DEAR FRIEND: I received your letter of the 10th 'sonica'; for I set out for Bath to-morrow morning.</p> <p>If the use of those waters does me no good, the shifting the scene for some time will at least amuse me a little; and at my age, and with my infirmities, 'il faut faire de tout bois feche'. Some variety is as necessary for the mind as some medicines are for the body.</p> <p>Here is a total stagnation of politics, which, I suppose, will continue till the parliament sits to do business, and that will not be till about the middle of January; for the meeting on the 17th December is only for the sake of some new writs. The late ministers threaten the present ones; but the latter do not seem in the least afraid of the former, and for a very good reason, which is, that they have the distribution of the loaves and fishes. I believe it is very certain that Mr. Pitt will never come into this, or any other administration: he is absolutely a cripple all the year, and in violent pain at least half of it. Such physical ills are great checks to two of the strongest passions to which human nature is liable, love and ambition. Though I cannot persuade myself that the present ministry can be long lived, I can as little imagine who or what can succeed them, 'telle est la-disette de sujets papables'. The Duke of swears that he will have Lord personally attacked in both Houses; but I do not see how, without endangering himself at the same time.</p> <p>Miss C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;is safely arrived here, and her Duke is fonder of her than ever. It was a dangerous experiment that she tried, in leaving him so long; but it seems she knew her man.</p> <p>I pity you for the inundation of your good countrymen, which overwhelms you; 'je sais ce qu'en vaut l'aune. It is, besides, expensive, but, as I look upon the expense to be the least evil of the two, I will see if a New-Year's gift will not make it up.</p> <p>As I am now upon the wing, I will only add, God bless you!</p> <p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0283" id="link2H_4_0283"></SPAN></p> <h2> LETTER CCLXXXII </h2> <h3> BATH, November 28, 1765 </h3> <p>MY DEAR FRIEND: I have this moment received your letter of the 10th. I have now been here a month, bathing and drinking the waters, for complaints much of the same kind as yours, I mean pains in my legs, hips, and arms: whether gouty or rheumatic, God knows; but, I believe, both, that fight without a decision in favor of either, and have absolutely reduced me to the miserable situation of the Sphinx's riddle, to walk upon three legs; that is, with the assistance of my stick, to walk, or rather hobble, very indifferently. I wish it were a declared gout, which is the distemper of a gentleman; whereas the rheumatism is the distemper of a hackney-coachman or chairman, who is obliged to be out in all weathers and at all hours.</p> <p>I think you will do very right to ask leave, and I dare say you will easily get it, to go to the baths in Suabia; that is, supposing that you have consulted some skillful physician, if such a one there be, either at Dresden or at Leipsic, about the nature of your distemper, and the nature of those baths; but, 'suos quisque patimur manes'. We have but a bad bargain, God knows, of this life, and patience is the only way not to make bad worse. Mr. Pitt keeps his bed here, with a very real gout, and not a political one, as is often suspected.</p> <p>Here has been a congress of most of the 'ex Ministres'. If they have raised a battery, as I suppose they have, it is a masked one, for nothing has transpired; only they confess that they intend a most vigorous attack. 'D'ailleurs', there seems to be a total suspension of all business, till the meeting of the parliament, and then 'Signa canant'. I am very glad that at this time you are out of it: and for reasons that I need not mention: you would certainly have been sent for over, and, as before, not paid for your journey.</p> <p>Poor Harte is very ill, and condemned to the Hot well at Bristol. He is a better poet than philosopher: for all this illness and melancholy proceeds originally from the ill success of his "Gustavus Adolphus." He is grown extremely devout, which I am very glad of, because that is always a comfort to the afflicted.</p> <p>I cannot present Mr. Larpent with my New-Year's gift, till I come to town, which will be before Christmas at farthest; till when, God bless you! Adieu.</p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />