¦A.^V-' ryMP/.t/ed -t LETTERS WRITTEN BY THE LATE EARL OF CHATHAM, &c, &c. LETTERS WRITTEN BY THE LATE VfiKs^,., 'ifi-A- M^RJL OF CM^TH^M TO HIS NEPHEW THOMAS PITT, ESQ. (afterwards lord camelford) 'THEN AT CAMBRIDGE.- ^ ''Oioi bkbTvo; '^v .rBXecroct ''pyov rs Wo; re. ODYSS. B. 272. LONDON : PRINTED FOE T. PAYNE^ MEWS GATE, sr T. BENSLEr, BOLT COURT. I 1804. THE RIGHT HONORABLE WIILILI^M PITT. Dropmore, Dec. 3, 1803. MY DEAR SIR, W^HEN you expressed to me your entire concurrence in my wish to print the following letters, you were not apprized that this address would accompany them. By you it will, I trust, be received as a testimony of affec- VI tionate friendship. To others the propriety will be obvious of in scribing with your name a publi cation, in which Lord Chatham teaches, how great talents may most successfully be cultivated, and to what objects they may most honourably be directed. GRENVILLE. THE EDITOR'S PREFACE. X HE following letters were addressed by the late Lord Chatham to his nephew Mr. Pitt, (afterwards Lord Camelford,) then at Cambridge, They are few in number, written for the private use of an individual dur ing a short period of time, and con taining only such detached observa tions on the extensive subjects to via which they relate, as occasion might happen to suggest, in the course of familiar correspondence. Yet even these imperfect remains will un doubtedly be received by the public with no common interest, as well from their own intrinsic value, as from the picture which they display of the character of their author. The editor's wish to do honour to the memory both of the person by whom they were Avritteri, and of him to whom they were addressed, would alone have rendered him desirous of making these papers public. But he feels a much higher motive, in the hope of promoting by such a publi cation the inseparable interests of learning, virtue, and religion. By IX the writers of that school, whose philosophy consists in the degrada tion of virtue, it has often been triumphantly declared, that no ex cellence of character can stand the test of close observation ; that no man is a hero to his domestic ser vants, or to his familiar friends. How much more just, as well as more amiable and dignified, is the opposite sentiment, delivered to us in the words of Plutarch, and illustrated throughout all his writings! " Real virtue," says that inimitable morahst, " is most loved, where it is most nearly seen: and no respect which it commands from strangers, can equal the never-ceasing .admiration it ex cites in the daily intercourse of do- X mestic life." Tvn .ahi^divi^s «^^^s jcah- XtcTTci (pixtvsjtxi Tcc uoiXiiTTix. (putvefiiva,' jcai ruv ixyoiSuv otvopuv ioev a/^ votv- [X.ci that their style is, in his judg- XVI ment, declamatory, diffuse, and in volved : deficient both in elegance and in precision, and little calculated to satisfy a taste formed, as Lord Chatham's was, on the purest models of classic simplicity. Their matter he thinks more substantially defec tive : the observations which they contain, display no depth of thought, or extent of knowledge; their reason ing is, for the most part, trite and superficial; while on the accuracy with which the facts themselves are represented no reliance can safely be placed. The principles and charac ter of their author Lord Chatham himself condemns, with just reproba tion. And when, in addition to this general censure, he admits, that in XVII these writings the truth of history is occasionally warped, and its applica tion distorted for party purposes, what farther notice can be wanted of the caution with which such a book must always be regarded ? Lord Chatham appears to have recommended to his nephew, at the same time, the study of a very dif ferent work, the history of Claren don: but he speaks with some dis trust of the integrity of that valu able writer. When a statesman traces, for the instruction of pos terity, the living images of the men and manners of his time; the pas sions by which he has himself been agitated, and the revolutions in which b xvm his own life and fortunes were in^ volved, the picture will doubtless re tain a strong impression of the mind, the character, and the opinions of its author. But there will always be a wide interval between the bias of sin cere conviction and the dishonesty of intentional misrepresentation. Clarendon was unquestionably a lover of truth, and a sincere friend to. the free constitution of his coun try. He defended that constitution in parliament, with zeal and energy, against* the encroachments of pre- * See, particularly the accounts, in Rushworth and WhiteJock, of Clarendon's parliamentary con duct in 1640 and l641; and. of that of Falkland and Colpepper, with whom he acted. XIX rbgative, and concurred in the esta blishment df new securities necessary for its protection. He did indeed, when these had been obtained, op pose with equal determination those continually increasing, demands of parliament, which appeared to him to threaten the existence of the mo narchy itself : desirous, if possible, to conciliate the maintenance of public liberty with the preservation of do mestic peace, and to turn aside from his country all the evils, to which those demands immediately and ma nifestly tended.* ' * A general recapitulation of these demands may be found in the message sent by the two Houses to the King, on the 2d of June, 1642; a XX The wish was honourable and virtuous, but it was already become impracticable. The purposes of irre concileable ambition, entertained by both the contending parties, were utterly inconsistent with the re-esta blishment of mutual confidence. The parliamentary leaders openly grasped at the exclusive possession of all civil and all military authority: And on the other hand, the perfidy with which the king had violated his past engage ments still rankled in the hearts of paper which is recited by Ludlow as explanatory ofthe real intentions of the parliament at that pe riod, and as being " in effect the principal foun dation of the ensuing war." 1 Ludlow, 30. ed. 1698. XXI his people, whose just suspicions of his sincerity were continually re newed by the unsteadiness of his conduct, even in the very moments of fresh concession: While, amongst a large proportion of the community, evfery circumstance of civil injury or oppression was inflamed and aggra vated by the utmost violence of reli gious animosity. In this unhappy state the calami ties of civil war could no longer be averted; but the miseries by which the contest was attended, and the military tyranny to which it so naturally led, justified all the fears of those who had from the begin- xxu ning most dreaded that terrible extremity. At the restoration the same vir tuous statesman protected the con stitution against the blind or in terested zeal of excessive loyalty: and, if Monk had the glory of re storing the monarchy of England, to Clarendon is ascribed the merit of re-establishing her laws and liberties. A service no less advantageous to - the crown than honourable to him self; but which was numbered among the chief of those offences for which he was afterwards abandoned, sacri ficed, and persecuted by his unfeeling, corrupt, and profligate master. XXlll , These observations respecting one of the most upright characters of our history, are here delivered with free dom, though in some degree opposed to so high an authority. The habit of forming such opinions for our selves, instead of receiving them from others, is not the least among the advantages of such a course of read ing and reflection as Lord Chatham recommends. It will be obvious to every reader on the slightest perusal of the fol lowing letters, that they were never intended to comprize a perfect system of education, even for the short por tion of time to which they relate. Many points in which they will be xxiv found deficient, were undoubtedly supplied by frequent opportunities of personal intercourse, and much was left to the general rules of study established at an English university. Still less therefore should the tem porary advice addressed to - an in-* dividual, whose previous education had laboured under some disadvan tage, be understood as a general dis suasive from the cultivation of Gre cian literature. The sentiments of Lord Chatham were in direct oppo sition to any such opinion. The manner in which, even in these let ters, he speaks of the first of poets, and the greatest of orators; and thfc stress which he lays on the benefits to be derived from their immortal xxv works, could leave no doubt of his judgment on this important point. That judgment was afterwards most unequivocally manifested, when he was called upon to consider the ques tion with a still higher interest, not only as a friend and guardian, but also as a father. A diligent study of the poetry, the history, the eloquence, and the philosophy of Greece, an intimate acquaintance with those writings which have been the admiration of every age, and the models of all succeeding excellence, would un doubtedly have been considered by . him as an essential part of any gene ral plan for the education of an Eng- xxvi lish gentleman, born to share in the councils of his country. Such a plan must also have comprized a much higher progress, than is here traced out, in mathematics^ in the science of reason, in natural,* and ¦* A passage has been quoted above from the Life of Pericles. The editor cannot refrain from once more referring his reader to the same beauti ful work, for the description of the benefits which that great statesman derived from the study of tiatural philosophy. The lessons of Anaxagoras, says our author, gave elevation to his soul, and sublimity to hig eloquence; they diffused over the whole tenor of his life a temperate and majestic grandeur; taught him to raise his thoughts from the works of Nature to the contemplation of that Perfect xxvu in ' moral philosophy ; including in the latter the proofs and doctrines of that revelation by which it has been perfected. Nor would the work have been considered by him as finished, until on these foundations there had been built an accurate knowledge of the origin, nature, and safeguards of government and civil apd Puke Intelligence from which they ori ginate; and, (as Plutarch expresses it, in words that might best describe a Christian philosopher,) instilled into his mind, instead of the dark and fearful superstition of his times, that piety which is confirmed by Reason and animated by Hope : dyl) ryjs (So^Epai ko,} (pX£y[A,cuviiwhich I am very desirous to hear an account. I desire you will be so good to let me know particularly, if you have gone through the abridge ment of Burnet's History of the Re formation, and the Treatise of Father Paul on Benefices; also how much of Locke you have read. I beg of you not to mix any other English reading with what I recommended to you. I propose to save you much time and trouble, by pointing out to you suoh books, in succession, as will carry you the shortest way to the things you must know to fit yourself for the business of the world, and give 51 you the clearer knowledge of them, by keeping them unmixed with su perfluous, vain, empty trash. Let me hear, my dear' child, of your French also; as well as of those studies which are more properly university studies. I cannot tell you better how truly and tenderly I love you, than by telling you I am most solicitously bent on your 'doing every thing that is right, and laying the foundations of your future happiness and figure in the world, in such a course of improve ment, as will not fail to make you a better man, while it makes you a more knowing one. Do you rise early ? I hope you have already made to yourself the habit of doing- it: if not, let me conjure you to ac- 52, quire it. Remember your friend Horace. Et ni Posces ante Diem li brum cum lumine, si non Intendes animum studiis, et rebus honestis, In- vidicl vel Amore miser torquebere. Adieu. Your ever affectionate uncle. 53 LETTER VIII. Bath, May 4, 1754. DEAR NEPHEW, I USE a pen with some dif ficulty, being still lame in my hand with the gout; I can not however delay writing this line to you on the course of English history I propose for you. If you have finished the Abridg ment of English History and of Bur net's History of the Reformation, I recommend to you next (before any other reading of history) Oldcastle's 54 Remarks on the History of England, by Lord Bolingbroke. Let me ap prize you of one thing before you read them, and that is, that the au thor has bent some passages to make them invidious parallels to the times he wrote in; therefore be aware of that, and depend, in general, on find ing the truest constitutional doc trines : and that the facts of history (though warped) are no where falsi fied. I also recommend Nathaniel Bacon's Historical and Political Ob servations;* it is, without exception. * This book, though at present little known, formerly enjoyed a very high, reputation. It is written with a very evident bias to the principles of the parliamentary party to which Bacon ad- 55 the best and most instructive book we have on matters of that kind; hered J but contains a great deal of very useful and valuable matter. It was published in two parts, the first in l647, the second in l651, and was secretly reprinted in I672, and again in l682; for which edition the publisher was indicted and outlawed. After the revolution a fourth edition was printed with an advertisement, asserting, on the authority of Lord Chief Justice Vaughan, one of Selden's executors, that the groundwork of this book was laid by that great and learned man. And it is probably on the ground of this assertion that in the folio edition of Bacon's book, printed in 1739, it is said in the title-page to have been " collected from some manuscript notes of John Selden, Esq." But it does not appear that this notion rests on any sufficient evidence. It is how;- ever manifest from some expressions in the very unjust and disparaging account given of this 56 They are both to be read with much attention and twice over; Oldcastle's Remarks to be studied and almost got by heart, for the inimitable beauty of the style, as well as the matter. Bacon for the matter chiefly ; the style being uncouth, but the expres sion forcible and striking. I can write no more, and you will hardly read what is writ. Adieu, my dear child. Your ever affectionate uncle. work in Nicholson's Historical Library, (parti. p. 150,) that Nathaniel Bacon was generally considered as an imitator and follower of Selden. 57 LETTER IX. Astrop Wells, Sept. 5, 1 754. MY DEAR NEPHEW, I HAVE been a long time without conversing with you, and thanking you for the pleasure of your last letter. You may possibly be about to return to the seat of learning on the banks of the Cam; but I will not defer discoursing to you on literary matters till you leave Cbrnwall, not doubting but you are mindful of the muses amidst the very 58 savage rocks and moors, and yet more savage natives, of the ancient and respectable dutchy. First, with regard to the opinion you desire concerning a common place book ; in general, I much disapprove the use of it; it is chiefly intended for persons who mean to be authors, and tends to impair the memory, and to de prive you of a ready, extempore, use of your reading, by accustoming the mind to discharge itself of its reading on paper, instead of relying on its natural power of retention, aided and fortified by frequent re visions of its ideas and materials. Some things must be common-placed in order to be of any use; dates, chronological order, and the like ; 59 for instance, Nathaniel Bacon ought to be extracted in the best method you can; but in general my advice to you is, not to common-place upon paper, but, as an equivalent to it, to endeavour to range and methodize in your head what you read, and by so doing frequently and habitually to fix matter in the memory, I de sired you some time since to read Lord Clarendon's History of the civil wars, I have lately read a much honester and more instructive book, of the same period of history; it is the History of the Parliament, by Thomas May,* Esq. &c. I will * May, the translator of Lucan, had been much countenanced by Charles the First, but 60 send it to you as soon aS you return to Cambridge. If you have not read Burnet's History of his own Times, I beg you will. I hope your father is well. My love to the girls. Your ever affectionate. quitted the court on some personal disgust, and afterwards became Secretary to the Parliament. His history was published in l647 under their authority and licence, and cannot by any means be considered as an impartial work. It is how ever well worthy of being attentively read ; and thc contemptuous character given of it by Clarendon (Life, vol. I. p. 35,) is as much below its real merit as Clarendon's own history is superior to it. 61 LETTER X. Pay Office, April 9, 1755. MV DEAR NEPHEW, I REJOICE extremely to hear that your father and the girls are not unentertained in their tra vels : in the mean time your travels through the paths of literature, arts, and sciences, (a road, sometimes set with flowers, and sometimes difficult, laborious, and arduous,) are not only 62 infinitely more profitable in future, but at present, upon the whole, in finitely more delightful. My own travels at present are none of the pleasantest : I am going through a fit of the gout ; with much proper pain and what proper patience I may. Avis au lecteur, my sweet boy: re member thy Creator in the days of thy youth. Let no excesses lay the foundations of gout and the rest of Pandora's box; nor any immoralities, or vicious courses sow the seeds of a too late and painful repentance. Here ends my sermon, which, I trust, you are not fine gentleman enough, or in plain English, silly fellow enough, to laugh at. Lady Hester is much 63 yours. Let me hear some account of your intercourse with the muses, And believe me ever, Your truly most affectionate. 64 LETTER XI. Pay Office, April 15, 1755. A THOUSAND thanks to my dear boy for a very pretty letter. I like extremely the account you give of your literary life ; the re flexions you make upon some West- Saxon actors in the times you are reading, are natural, manly, and sen sible, and floAv from a heart that will make you far superior to any of 65 them. I am content you sliould be interrupted (provided the interrup tion be not long) in the course of your reading by declaiming in de fence of the Thesis you have so wisely chosen to maintain. It is true indeed that the affirmative maxim, Omne solum forti Patria est, has supported some great and good men under the persecutions of faction and party injustice, and taught them to prefer an hospitable retreat in a foreign land to an unnatural mother- country. Some few such may be found in ancient times: in our own country also some; such was Alger- noon Sidney, Ludlow, and others. But how dangerous is it to trust frail, corrupt man, with such an aphorism ! 66 What fatal casuistry is it big Avith ! How many a villain might, and has, masked himself in the sayings of ancient illustrious exiles, while he was, in fact, dissolving all the nearest and dearest ties that hold societies together, and spurning at all laws divine and human! How easy the transition from this political to some impious ecclesiastical aphorisms ! If all soils are alike to the brave and virtuous, so may all churches and modes of worship ; that is, all will be equally neglected and violated. In stead of every soil being his country, he will have no one for his country ; he will be the forlorn outcast of man kind. Such was the late Bolingbroke of impious memory. Let me know 67 Avhen your declamation is over. Pardon an observation on style : ' I received yours' is vulgar and mer cantile ; ' your letter ' is the way of writing. Inclose your letters in a cover, it is more polite. 68 LETTER Xtl. Pay Office, May 20, 1755. MY DEAR NEPHEW, Iam extremely concerned to hear that you have been ill, es pecially as your account of an illness, you speak of as past, implies such remains of disorder as I beg you will give all proper attention to. By the medicine your physician has ordered, I -conceive he considers your case in 69 some degree nervous. If that be so, advise with him whether a little change of air and of the scene, tOr gether with some weeks course of steel waters, might not be highly proper for you. I am to go the day after to-morrow to Sunning Hill, in Windsor Forest, where I propose to drink those waters for about a month, Lady. Hester and I shall be happy in your, company, if your doctor shall be of ppitiipn that such waters may be jof service to you ; which, I hope, will be his opinion. Besides health recovered, the muses shall hot be quite forgot ; we will ride, read, walk, and philosophize, extremely at our ease, and you may return to Cam- 70 bridge with new ardour, or at least with strength repaired, when we leave Sunning Hill. If you come, the sooner the better, on all accounts. We propose to go into Buckingham shire in about a month. I rejoice that your declamation is over, and that you have begun, my dearest nephew, to open your mouth in pub lic, ingenti Patrias perculsus Amore. I wish I had heard you perform; the only way I ever shall hear your praises from your own mouth. My gout prevented my so much intended and wished for journey to Cam bridge: and now my plan of drink ing waters renders it impossible. Come then, my dear boy, to us ; and 71 so Mahomet and the mountain meet, no matter which moves to the other. Adieu. Your ever affectionate. 72 LETTER XIII. July 13, 1755. MY DEAR NEPHEW, I HAVE delayed writing to you in expectation of hearing farther from you upon the subject of your stay at college. No news is the best news, and I will hope now that all your difficulties upon that head are at an end. I represent you to myself deep in study, and drinking large draughts of intellectual nectar; a 73 very delicious state to a rnind happy enough, and elevated enough, to thirst after knowledge and true honest fame, even as the hart panteth after the water brooks. When I name knowledge, I ever intend learning as the weapon and' instrument only of manly, honourable, and virtuous ac tion, upon the stage of the world, both in private and public life; as a gentleman, and as a member of the commonwealth, who is to answer for all he does to the laws of his country, to his own breast and conscience, and at the tribunal of honour and good fame. You, my dear boy, will not only be acquitted, but applauded and dignified at all these respectable and awful bars. So, macte tud virtute! 74 go on and prosper in yonr glorious and' happy career; not forgetting to walk an hour briskly every morning and evening, to fortify the nerves. I wish to hear, in some little time, of the progress you shall have made in the course of reading chalked out. Adieu. Your ever affectionate uncle. ¦ Lady Hester desires her best com pliments to you. 75 LETTER XIV. Stowe, July 24, 1755. MY DEAR NEPHEW, I AM just leaving this place to go to Wotton; but I will not lose the post, though I have time but for one line. I am extremely happy that you can stay at your college, and pursue the prudent and glorious reso lution of employing your present moments with a view to the future. May your noble and generous love 76 of virtue pay you with the sweet re wards of a self-approving heart and an applauding country! and may I enjoy the true satisfaction of seeing your fame and happiness, and of thinking that I may have been for tunate enough to have contributed, in any small degree, to do common justice to kind nature by a suitable education ! I am no very good judge of the question concerning the books; I believe they are your own in the same sense that your wearing apparel is, I would retain them, and leave the candid and equitable Mr. * * * to plan, with the honest Mr. * * *, schemes of perpetual vexation. As to the persons just mentioned, I trust that you bear about you a mind and 77 heart much superior to such malice : and that you are as little capable of resenting it, with any sensations but those of cool decent contempt, as you are of fearing the consequences of such low efforts. As to the caution money 1 think you have done well. The case of the chambers, I con ceive, you likewise apprehend rightly. Let me know in your next what these two articles require you to pay down, and how far your present cash is exhausted, and I will direct Mr. Campbell to give you credit ac cordingly. Believe me, my dear Nephew, truly happy to be of u^e to you. Your ever affectionate. 78 LETTER XV. Wotton, Aug. 7, 1755. MY DEAR NEPHEW, I HAVE only time at present to let you know I am setting out for London; when I return to Sunning Hill, which I propose to do in a few days, I shall have considered the question about a letter to * * * *, and will send you my thoughts upon it. As to literature, I know you are not idle, under so many and so strong 79 motives to animate you to the ardent pursuit of improvement. For Eng lish history, read the revolutions of York and Lancaster in Pere d'Orleans, and no more of the father ; the life of Edward the Fourth, and so down wards all the life 'writers of our kings, except such as you have al ready read. For Queen Ann's reign the continuator of Rapin. Farewell, my dearest nephew, for to day. Your most affectionate uncle. 80 LETTER XVI. Bath, Sept. -25, 1755. I HAVE not conversed with my dear nephew a long time; I have been much in a ppst-chaise, living a wandering Scythian life, and he has been more usefully employed than in reading or writing letters; travelling through the various, instructing, and entertaining roa'd of history. I have a particular pleasure in hearing now 81 and then a word from you in your journey, just while you are changing horses, if I may so call it, and get ting from one author to another. I suppose you going through the bio graphers, from Edward the Fourth downwards, nor intending to stop till you reach to the continuator of honest Rapin. There is a little book I never mentioned, Welwood's Me moirs; I recommend it. Davis's Ire land must not on any account be omitted; it is a great performance, a masterly work, and contains much depth and extensive knowledge in state matters, and settling- of coun tries, in a very short compass. I have met with a scheme of chronology by Blair, shewing all cotemporary, G 82 historical characters, through all ages ; it is of great use to consult frequently, in order to fix periods, and throw collateral light upon any particular branch you are reading. Let me know, when I have the plea sure of a letter from you, how far you are advanced in English history. You may probably not have heard au thentically of Governor Lyttelton's captivity and release. He is safe and well in England, after being taken and detained in France some days. Sir Richard and he met, unexpectedly enough, at Brussels, and came to gether to England. I propose re turning to London in about a week, where I hope to find Lady Hester as well as I left her. We are both miich 83 indebted for your kind and affection ate wishes. In publica commoda peccem Si longo sermone morer one bent on so honourable and virtuous a journey, as you are. 84 LETTER XVII. Pay Office, Dec. 6, 1755. Of all the various satisfac tions of mind I have felt upon some late events, none has affected me with more sensibility and delight than the reading my dear nephew's letter. The matter of it is worthy of a better age than that we live in;- worthy of your, own noble, untaii^d mind; and the manner and expres sion of it is such, as, I trust, wiU 85 one day make you a powerful instru ment towards mending the present degeneracy. Examples are unne cessary to happy natures; and it is well for your future glory and happi ness that this is the case; for to copy any now existing might cramp genius and check the native spirit of the piece, rather than contribute to the perfection of it. I learn from Sir Richard Lyttelton that we may have the pleasure of meeting soon, as he has already, or intends to offer you a bed at his house. It is on this, as on all occasions, little necessary to preach prudence, or to intimate a w^h that your studies at Cambridge might not be broken by a long inter ruption of them. I know the right- 86 ness of your own mind, and leave you to all the generous and animating' motives you find there, for pursuipg improvements in literature and usefpl knowledge, as much better counsel lors than Your ever most affectionate uncle. Lady Hester desires her best com pliments. The little cousin is wefl. 87 LETTER XVIII. Horse Guards, Jan, 31, 1756. MY DEAR NEPHEW, Let me thank yPu a thousand" times for your remember ing me, and giving me the pleasure of hearing that you was well, and had laid by the ideas of London and its dissipations, to resume the sober train of thoughts that gowns, square caps, quadrangles, and matin-bells. 88 naturally draw after them. I hope the air of Cambridge has brought no disorder upon you, and that you will compound with the muses so as to dedicate some hours, not less than two, of the day to exercise. The earlier you rise, the better your nerves will bear study. When you next do me the pleasure to write to me, I beg a copy of your Elegy on your Mother's Picture; it is such ad mirable poetry, that I beg you to plunge deep into prose and severer studies, and not indulge your genius with verse, for the present. Finiti- mus Oratori Poeta. Substitute Tully and Demosthenes in the place of Homer and Virgil ; and arm yourself 89 with all the variety of manner, copiousness and beauty of diction, nobleness and magnificence of ideas of the Roman consul; and render the powers of eloquence complete by the irresistible torrent of vehement ar gumentation, the close and forcible reasoning, and the depth and forti tude of mind of the Grecian states man. This I mean at leisure inter vals, and to relieve the course of those studies, Avhich you intend to make your principal object. The book relating to the empire of Ger many, which I could not recollect, is Vitriarius's Jus Publicum, an admi rable book in its kind, and esteemed of the best authority in matters 90 much controverted. W^e are all well: Sir Richard is upon his legs and abroad again. ' Your ever affectionate uncle. .««i' 91 LETTER XIX. Hayes, near Bromley, May 11, 1756. My dear nephew's obliging- letter was every way most pleasing ; as I had more than begun to think it long since I had the. satisfaction of hearing he was well. As the season of humidity and relaxation is now almost over, I trust ' that the muses are in no danger of nervous complaints, and that whatever pains 92 they have to tell are out of the reach pf Esculapius, and not dangerous, though epidemical to youth at this soft month, When lavish Nature, in her best attire, Clothes the gay spring, the season of desire. To be serious, I hope my dearest nephew is perfectly free froift all re turns of his former complaint, and enabled by an unailing body, and an ardent elevated mind, to follow. Quo Te Coelestis Sapientia duceret. My holydays are now approaching, and I long to hear something of your labours, which, I doubt not, will 93 prove in their consequence more pro fitable to your country a few years hence than your uncle's. Be so good to let me know what progress you have made in our historical and con stitutional journey, that I may sug gest to you some farther reading. Lady Hester is well, and desires her best compliments to you. I am well, but threatened with gout in my feet, from a parliamentary debauch till six in the morning, on the Militia. Poor Sir Richard is laid up with the gout. Your's most affectionately,. 94 LETTER XX. Hayes, Oct. 7,. 1/56. I THINK it very long since I heard any thing of my dear nephew's health and learned occupations at the mother of arts and sciences. Pray give me the pleasure of a letter soon, and be so good to let me know Avhat progress is made in our plan of read ing. I am now to make a request to you in behalf of a young gentle- 96 Hian coming to Cambridge, Mr. *** 's son. The father desires much that you and his son may make an ac quaintance : as what father would not ? Mr. *** is one of the best friends I have in the world, and no thing can oblige me more than that you would do all in your power to be of assistance and advantage to the young man. He has good parts, good nature, and amiable qualities. He is young, and consequently much depends on the first habits he forms, whether of application or dissipation: You see, my dear nephew, what it is already to have made yourself Prin ceps Juventutis. It has its glories and its cares. You are invested with a kind of public charge, and the eyes 96 of the world are upon you, not only for your own acquittal) but for the example and pattern to the British youth. Lady Hester is still about, but in daily expectation of the good minute. She desires her compliments to you. My sister is gone to How- berry. Believe me ever, My dear nephew. Most affectionately yours. 97 LETTER XXI. Hayes, Oct, 10, 1756. DEAR NEPHEW, I HAVE the pleasure to ac quaint you with the glad tidings of Hayes. Lady Hester was safely de livered this morning of a son. She and the child are as well as possible, and the father in the joy of his heart. It is no small addition to my happi ness to know you will kindly share it with me. A father must form wishes H 98 for his child as soon as it comes into the world, and I will make mine, that he may live to make as good use of life, as one that shall be nameless, is now doing at Cambridge. Quid voveat majus Matricula dulcis Alum- no? Your ever affectionate. 99 LEITER XXII. St, James's Square, Aug. 28, iJSJ. MY DEAR NEPHEW, Nothing can give me greater pleasure than the approach ing conclusion of a happy recon ciliation in the family. Your letter to * * * is the properest that can be imagined, and, I doubt not, will make the deepest impression on his heart. I have been in much pain lOO for you during all this unseasonable vi^eather, and am still apprehensive, till I have the satisfaction of hearing from you, that your course of sea bathing has been interrupted by such gusts of wind as must have rendered the sea too rough an element for a convalescent to disport in. I trust, my dearest nephcAv, that opening scenes of domestic comfort and fa mily-affection will confirm and aug ment every hour the benefits you are receiving at Brighthelmston, from external and internal medical assistances. Lady Hester and Aunt Mary join with me in all good wishes for your health and happiness. The duplicate *** mentions having ad- 101 dressed to me, has never come to hand. I am. With truest affection, My dearest nephew, Ever yours. 102 LETTER XXIII. St. James's Square, Oct, 27, 1757. MY DEAR NEPHEW, Inclosed is a letter from * * * *, which came in one to me. I heartily wish the contents may be agreeable to you. I am far from being satisfied, my dearest nephew, with the account your last letter to my sister gives of 103 your health. I had formed the hope of your ceasing to be an invalid be fore this time; but since you must submit to be one for this winter, I am comforted to find your strength is not impaired, as it used to be, by the returns of illness you sometimes feel; and I trust the good govern ment you are under, and the forti tude and manly resignation you are possessed of, will carry you Avell through this trial of a young man's patience, and bring you out in spring, like gold, the better for the proof. I rejoice to hear you have a friend of great merit to be with you. My warmest wishes for your health and happiness never fail to follow you. 104 Lady Hester desires her best compli- ments.3 Believe me. With the truest affection. Ever yours. THE END, T. Benaley, Printer, KoU Cuurt, Fleet iitreet. ^0j 5-' - ¦ j:^^ ¦ '^ 11: 4L -s^--^. ^"^^ ^*T**S^'*^^ ^'^V^ '''^^- ,