Letters to His Son, 1752: On the Fine Art of Becoming a Man of the World and a GentlemanChesterfield, Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of
General
Letters to His Son, 1752: On the Fine Art of Becoming a Man of the World and a Gentleman
Chesterfield, Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of
Conduct of life
dexterity, but at the same time with the utmost personal civility to
them; and be firm without heat. Messieurs d'Avaux and Servien did no more
than this. I must make one observation, in confirmation of this
assertion; which is, that the most eminent negotiators have allways been
the politest and bestbred men in company; even what the women call the
PRETTIEST MEN. For God's sake, never lose view of these two your capital
objects: bend everything to them, try everything by their rules, and
calculate everything for their purposes. What is peculiar to these two
objects, is, that they require nothing, but what one's own vanity,
interest, and pleasure, would make one do independently of them. If a man
were never to be in business, and always to lead a private life, would he
not desire to please and to persuade? So that, in your two destinations,
your fortune and figure luckily conspire with your vanity and your
pleasures. Nay more; a foreign minister, I will maintain it, can never be
a good man of business if he is not an agreeable man of pleasure too.
Half his business is done by the help of his pleasures; his views are
carried on, and perhaps best and most unsuspectedly, at balls, suppers,
assemblies, and parties of pleasure; by intrigues with women, and
connections insensibly formed with men, at those unguarded hours of
amusement.
These objects now draw very near you, and you have no time to lose in
preparing yourself to meet them. You will be in parliament almost as soon
as your age will allow, and I believe you will have a foreign department
still sooner, and that will be earlier than ever any other body had one.
If you set out well at one-and-twenty, what may you not reasonably hope
to be at one-and-forty? All that I could wish you! Adieu.
LETTER CLXXIX
LONDON, September 29, 1752.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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