yourself; acknowledge the hit to be a fair one, and the jest a good one, and play off the whole thing in seeming good humour: but by no means reply in the same way; which only shows that you are hurt, and publishes the victory which you might have concealed. Should the thing said, indeed, injure your honour, or moral character, there is but one proper reply; which I hope you never will have occasion to make. [Same date.]

WOMEN OF FASHION.-They are a numerous and loquacious body: their hatred would be more prejudicial, than their friendship can be advantageous to you. A general complaisance and attention to that sex is, therefore, established by custom, and certainly necessary. But where you would particularly please any one, whose situation, interest, or connections can be of use to you, you must show particular preference. The least attentions please, the greatest charm them. The innocent, but pleasing flattery of their persons, however gross, is greedily swallowed, and kindly digested, but a seeming regard for their understandings, a seeming desire of, and deference for their advice, together with a seeming confidence in their moral virtues, turns their head entirely in your favour. Nothing shocks them so much as the least appearance of that contempt, which they are apt to suspect men of entertaining of their capacities: and you may be very sure of gaining their friendship, if you seem to think it worth gaining. Here, dissimulation is very often necessary, and even simulation sometimes allowable; which, as it pleases them, may be useful to you, and is injurious to nobody. [Same date.]

VENETIAN ART.-The time you will probably pass at Venice will allow you to make yourself master of that intricate and singular form of government, which few of our travellers know anything of. Read, ask, and see everything that is relative to it. There are, likewise, many valuable remains of the remotest antiquity, and many fine pieces of the Antico Moderno, all which deserve a different sort of attention from that which your countrymen commonly give them. They go to see them, as they go to see the lions, and kings on horseback, at the Tower here; only to say that they have seen them. You will, I am sure, view them in another light; you will consider them as you would a poem, to which indeed they are akin. You will observe, whether the sculptor has animated his stone, or the painter his canvas, into the just expression of those sentiments and passions, which should characterise and mark their several figures. [June 22, 1749.]

SCULPTURE AND PAINTING.-You will examine, likewise, whether, in their groups, there be a unity of action, or proper relation; a truth of dress and manners. Sculpture and painting are very justly called liberal arts; a lively and strong imagination, together with a just observation, being absolutely necessary to excel in either: which, in my opinion, is by no means the case of music, though called a liberal art, and now in Italy placed even above the other two: a proof of the decline of that country. A taste of sculpture and painting is, in my mind, as becoming as a taste of fiddling and piping is unbecoming a man of fashion. The former is connected with history and poetry; the latter, with nothing, that I know of, but bad company. [Same date.]

AMIABILITY. There is a certain concurrence of various little circumstances, which compose what the French call l'aimable; and which, now you are entering into the world, you ought to make it your particular study to acquire. Without them, your learning will be pedantry, your conversation often improper, always unpleasant, and your figure, however good in itself, awkward and unengaging. A diamond, while rough, has indeed its intrinsic value; but, till polished, is of no use, and would neither be sought for, nor worn. Its great lustre, it is true, proceeds from its solidity and strong cohesion of parts; but without the last polish, it would remain for ever a dirty, rough mineral, in the cabinets of some few curious collectors. You have, I hope, that solidity and cohesion of parts; take now as much pains to get the lustre. Good company, if you make the right use of it, will cut you into shape, and give you the true brilliant polish. A propos of diamonds; I have sent you, by Sir James Gray, the king's minister, who will be at Venice about the middle of September, my own diamond buckles; which are fitter for your young feet, than for my old ones: they will properly adorn you; they would only expose me. [Same date.]

TRIFLES.-Great merit, or great failings, will make you respected or despised; but trifles, little attentions, mere nothings, either done, or neglected, will make you either liked or disliked, in the general run of the world. Examine yourself, why you like such and such people, and dislike such and such others; and you will find that those different sentiments proceed from very slight causes. Moral virtues are the foundation of society in general, and of friendship in

particular; but attentions, manners, and graces both adorn and strengthen them. [July 20, 1749.]

YOUTH ARMED BY EXPERIENCE.-Your youth and talents, armed with my experience, may go a great way; and that armour is very much at your service, if you please to wear it. I premise, that it is not my imagination, but my memory, that gives you these rules: I am not writing pretty, useful reflections. A man of sense soon discovers, because he carefully observes, where, and how long, he is welcome; and takes care to leave the company, at least, as soon as he is wished out of it. Fools never perceive whether they are ill timed or ill placed. [Same date.]

IDLENESS.-But indeed I do not suspect you of one single moment's idleness in the whole day. Idleness is only the refuge of weak minds, and the holiday of fools. I do not call good company and liberal pleasures, idleness; far from it: I recommend to you a good share of both. [Same date.]

BATHING.—I am very glad that my letter, with Dr. Shaw's opinion, has lessened your bathing; for, since I was born, I never heard of bathing four hours a day; which would surely be too much, even in Medea's kettle, if you wanted (as you do not yet) new boiling. [July 30, 1749.]

ARCHITECTURE-A SIMILE.-To carry on the metaphor of building, I would wish you to be a Corinthian edifice, upon a Tuscan foundation; the latter having the utmost strength and solidity to support, and the former all possible ornaments to decorate. The Tuscan column is coarse, clumsy, and unpleasant; nobody looks at it twice: the Corinthian fluted column

is beautiful and attractive; but, without a solid foundation, can hardly be seen twice, because it must soon tumble down. Yours affectionately. [Same

date.]

EARN YOUR PLEASURES.-No man tastes pleasures truly, who does not earn them by previous business; and few people do business well, who do nothing else. Remember, that when I speak of pleasures, I always mean the elegant pleasures of a rational being, and not the brutal ones of a swine. I mean la bonne chere, short of gluttony; wine, infinitely short of drunkenness; play, without the least gaming; and gallantry, without debauchery. There is a line in all these things which men of sense, for greater security, take care to keep a good deal on the right side of: for sickness, pain, contempt, and infamy lie immediately on the other side of it. Men of sense and merit in all other respects, may have had some of these failings; but then those few examples, instead of inviting us to imitation, should only put us the more upon our guard against such weaknesses. Whoever thinks

them fashionable will not be so himself. I have often known a fashionable man have some one vice, but I never, in my life, knew a vicious man a fashionable man. Vice is as degrading as it is criminal. God bless you, my dear child! [Aug. 7, 1749.]

DIGNITY OF MANNERS.-There is a certain dignity of manners absolutely necessary, to make even the most valuable character either respected or respectable.

Horse-play, romping, frequent and loud fits of laughter, jokes, waggery, and indiscriminate familiarity, will sink both merit and knowledge into a degree of contempt. They compose at most a merry