LONDON,December 30,O.S.1748.
DEAR BOY:I direct this letter to Berlin,where,I suppose,it will either find you,or at least wait but a very little time for you.Icannot help being anxious for your success,at this your first appearance upon the great stage of the world;for,though the spectators are always candid enough to give great allowances,and to show great indulgence to a new actor;yet,from the first impressions which he makes upon them,they are apt to decide,in their own minds,at least,whether he will ever be a good one,or not.If he seems to understand what he says,by speaking it properly;if he is attentive to his part,instead of staring negligently about him;and if,upon the whole,he seems ambitious to please,they willingly pass over little awkwardnesses and inaccuracies,which they ascribe to a commendable modesty in a young and inexperienced actor.They pronounce that he will be a good one in time;and,by the encouragement which they give him,make him so the sooner.This,I hope,will be your case:you have sense enough to understand your part;a constant attention,and ambition to excel in it,with a careful observation of the best actors,will inevitably qualify you,if not for the first,at least for considerable parts.
Your dress (as insignificant a thing as dress is in itself)is now become an object worthy of some attention;for,I confess,I cannot help forming some opinion of a man's sense and character from his dress;and I believe most people do as well as myself.Any affectation whatsoever in dress implies,in my mind,a flaw in the understanding.Most of our young fellows here display some character or other by their dress;some affect the tremendous,and wear a great and fiercely cocked hat,an enormous sword,a short waistcoat and a black cravat;these I should be almost tempted to swear the peace against,in my own defense,if I were not convinced that they are but meek asses in lions'skins.Others go in brown frocks,leather breeches,great oaken cudgels in their hands,their hats uncocked,and their hair unpowdered;and imitate grooms,stage-coachmen,and country bumpkins so well in their outsides,that I do not make the least doubt of their resembling them equally in their insides.
A man of sense carefully avoids any particular character in his dress;he is accurately clean for his own sake;but all the rest is for other people's.He dresses as well,and in the same manner,as the people of sense and fashion of the place where he is.If he dresses better,as he thinks,that is,more than they,he is a fop;if he dresses worse,he is unpardonably negligent.But,of the two,I would rather have a young fellow too much than too little dressed;the excess on that side will wear off,with a little age and reflection;but if he is negligent at twenty,he will be a sloven at forty,and stink at fifty years old.
Dress yourself fine,where others are fine;and plain where others are plain;but take care always that your clothes are well made,and fit you,for otherwise they will give you a very awkward air.When you are once well dressed for the day think no more of it afterward;and,without any stiffness for fear of discomposing that dress,let all your motions be as easy and natural as if you had no clothes on at all.So much for dress,which I maintain to be a thing of consequence in the polite world.