know how far, in your conscience, you think it like;
for there are some parts of it which I wish may, and
others, which I should be sorry were. I send you,
literally, the copy of that part of her letter, to
her friend here, which relates to you.—[In
compliance to your orders, I have examined young Stanhope
carefully, and think I have penetrated into his character.
This is his portrait, which I take to be a faithful
one. His face is pleasing, his countenance sensible,
and his look clever. His figure is at present
rather too square; but if he shoots up, which he has
matter and years for, he will then be of a good size.
He has, undoubtedly, a great fund of acquired knowledge;
I am assured that he is master of the learned languages.
As for French, I know he speaks it perfectly, and,
I am told, German as well. The questions he asks
are judicious; and denote a thirst after knowledge.
I cannot say that he appears equally desirous of pleasing,
for he seems to neglect attentions and the graces.
He does not come into a room well, nor has he that
easy, noble carriage, which would be proper for him.
It is true, he is as yet young and inexperienced; one
may therefore reasonably hope that his exercises, which
he has not yet gone through, and good company, in
which he is still a novice, will polish, and give
all that is wanting to complete him. What seems
necessary for that purpose, would, be an attachment
to some woman of fashion, and who knows the world.
Some Madame de l’Ursay would be the proper person.
In short, I can assure you, that he has everything
which Lord Chesterfield can wish him, excepting that
carriage, those graces, and the style used in the
best company; which he will certainly acquire in time,
and by frequenting the polite world. If he should
not, it would be great pity, since he so well deserves
to possess them. You know their importance.
My Lord, his father, knows it too, he being master
of them all. To conclude, if little Stanhope
acquires the graces, I promise you he will make his
way; if not, he will be stopped in a course, the goal
of which he might attain with honor.]
Tell Mr. Harte that I have this moment received his
letter of the 22d, N. S., and that I approve extremely
of the long stay you have made at Venice. I love
long residences at capitals; running post through
different places is a most unprofitable way of traveling,
and admits of no application. Adieu.
You see, by this extract, of what consequence other
people think these things. Therefore, I hope
you will no longer look upon them as trifles.
It is the character of an able man to despise little
things in great business: but then he knows what
things are little, and what not. He does not
suppose things are little, because they are commonly
called so: but by the consequences that may or
may not attend them. If gaining people’s
affections, and interesting their hearts in your favor,
be of consequence, as it undoubtedly is, he knows