Nicholas Gonzalez
In the eighteenth century, the son of an aspired author Lord Chesterfield began to travel
far from home, representing the Chesterfield name along the way. His father, in order to guide
his son through his journey, sends a letter to the boy reminding him of his responsibilities. In the
letter, Lord Chesterfield applies heavy diction to create his tone in order to both modify his ethos
and imply stern reasoning through his comparisons of life's pleasures so he can remind his son
that even though he will be guided, he has to live up to the Chesterfield name throughout his
journey.
Chesterfield begins by knocking down his son's guard of paternal advice by recognizing
the common childhood denial of any parental advice, admitting that he "know[s] how unwelcome
advice generally is" and that " the advice of parents, more particularly, is ascribed to the
moroseness, the imperiousness, or the garrulity of old age" (Paragraph 1). By using diction in
his definition of parent's advice, Chesterfield implies the agreement that parent's advice is
generally seen as useless, which he will use later when he tries to convince his son that his
advice is much different. Words such as "moroseness", "imperiousness", and "garrulity" almost
exaggerate the uselessness of parental advice, and Chesterfield does this purposely, so even
though his son will agree with him that parental advice is often condescending and incorrect, it
is not to such a grand level either. This means that Chesterfield's son now values his father's
advice more than his father seems to value it himself, and opens the son up to the father's
reasoning later in the letter. The reason why Chesterfield can afford to destroy the ethos of
parental figures like himself is because he will deviate from this ethos soon after, when he
claims his advice is that as a friend rather than as a parent: "Do not think that I mean to dictate
as a parent; I only mean to advise as a friend, and an indulgent one too: and do not apprehend
that I mean to check your pleasures; of which, on the contrary, I only desire to be the guide, not
the censor."(Paragraph 1). Chesterfield changes his son's perception of his father in this one
sentence by exclaiming that the advice he will offer him is one of a friend, not one of a father.
Just as a friend would, Chesterfield claims he will only be the guide to his son's pleasures
instead of the censor to them. Just as a friend would, Chesterfield claims he will advise his son
on his actions instead of dictating them. Just as a friend would, Chesterfield will allow his son to
enjoy his trip, instead of ruining it such as Chesterfield claims a father would. Chesterfield solely
banks on his son's belief of his self-proclaimed "true purpose" in his letter, as soon after he will
completely contradict himself when he serves stern paternal advice. However, for now,
Chesterfield's son is led into a trap of believing that his father's advice comes from an innocent
desire of improving his son's pleasure such as a friend would, and therefore his son should "at
least weigh and consider it well". This makes Chesterfield's son feel guilt in ignoring his father's
advice, since it seems to come from a benevolent insurrection against the morose parental
advice Chesterfield cites at the beginning of his letter. This makes the son open up to the
father's "friendly" advice and be unprotected against the stern tone Lord Chesterfield will soon
take in order to drive his purpose of protecting the family name during his son's trip from home.
Soon after Chesterfield fully succeeds in his mission of appearing as a friend to his own
son, he switches the entire tone of the letter from a painless, hopeful tone to a stern paternal
one. Chesterfield, however, both realizes and understands that he cannot destroy the facade
that he has spent the entire first half of his letter creating, and as such masks this change in
tone in an ironic combination of sentences in order to create a friendly humor to a sinister switch
Nicholas Gonzalez
in the perceived function of the letter. Chesterfield, speaking to his son as a "friend", dishonestly
proclaims that he "[does] not, therefore, so much as hint to you, how absolutely dependent you
are upon me; that you neither have, nor can have a shilling in the world but from me; and that,
as I have no womanish weakness for your person, your merit must, and will, be the only
measure of my kindness." (Paragraph 1). The irony in immediate contradiction, as Chesterfield
not only hints but fully exclaims what he claimed he wouldn't, creates humor which hides the
delivery of Chesterfield's foundation for the rest of his letter: His son would be nothing were it
not for Chesterfield. This trojan horse which Chesterfield delivers soon after he has convinced
his son of his friendliness leaves the son dazed and confused, unprepared for the stern delivery
of paternal advice which is to come in the second half of the letter. Chesterfield's son has fully
dropped his guard much like the people of Troy did for their trojan horse, and Chesterfield is
ready to unveil his soldiers in the form of direct guidance. Chesterfield begins to hand out his
advice in the form of comparisons of what life is like if his son does or doesn't take them: "can
there be a greater pleasure than to be universally allowed to excel those of one’s own age and
manner of life? And, consequently, can there be anything more mortifying than to be excelled by
them?' (paragraph 2). Chesterfield goes re-employs his use of diction in his comparison,
dropping words like "pleasure" to create an image of life if his advice is taken, all the meanwhile
using words like "mortifying" to imply a horrible form of living is his advice not taken. These are
Chesterfield's soldiers, foreshadowings of a life where his advice is simply brushed aside, and it
forces Chesterfield's son to truly accept his advice, as it can be the deciding factor of the
success of his entire journey. Additionally, Chesterfield asks this as a question, further making
his son truly think about the advice his father is offering him, and making his son admit that his
father is indeed correct since his father is the person who made him who he is today. This
allows Chesterfield to drive home his purpose without his son having a shield up against it. The
father wraps up the truth he is trying to explain at the end of his letter, when he proclaims that
"To know a little of anything, gives neither satisfaction nor credit; but often brings disgrace or
ridicule." (paragraph 2). Although he continues to inspire his son to excel at life during his
journey, what he is truly attempting to achieve is to make his son excel in the way that the
Chesterfield name is known to excel, and he inspires his son to do so by explaining the
"disgraceful" life of "ridicule" which is lived if his son does not accept the advice. This motivates
the son to excel in life throughout his journey, and live up to the Chesterfield name.
Chesterfield's desire to protect his family's name during the remainder of his son's
journey is one of his most important objectives, but his clever rhetoric in doing so prevents him
from destroying the paternal relationship which he has built throughout his son's entire life.
Although only a microcosm of the conversations between father and son, Chesterfield has
seemingly convinced his son to follow his advice in his journey without ruining his son's
perception of him in the process.