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mirth, ever make you feem even to acquiefce, much lefs to approve or applaud, fuch infamous doctrines. On the other haud, do not debate, nor enter into ferious argument, upon a fubject fo much below it; but content yourself with telling thefe apofties, that you know they are not ferious; that you have a much better opinion of them than they would with you to have; and that, you are very fure, they would not practise the docrines they preach. But put your private mark upon them, and fhun them forever afterwards.

There is nothing fo delicate as your moral character,, and nothing which it is your intereft to much to preferve pure. Should you be fufpected of injuftice, malignity, perfidy, lying, &c. all the parts and knowledge in the world will never procure you eftcem, friendship, or refpect. A ftrange concurrence of circumftances has fometimes raifed very bad men to high ftations; but they have been raifed like criminals to a pillory, where there perfons and their crimes, by being more confpicuous, are only the more known, the more detefted, and the more pelted and infulted. If, in any cafe whatfoever, dilhmulation is pardonable, it is in the cafe of morality; though even there, I would not advise you to a Pharafaical pomp of virtue. But I will recommend to you a moft fcrupulous tendernefs for your moral character, and the utmost care not to fay or do the leaft thing, that may, ever so lightly taint it. Show yourfelf, upon all occafions, the advocate, the friend, but not the bully, of virtue. Colonel Chartres, whom you have certainly heard of (who was, I believe, the most notorious rafcal in the world ; and who had, by ali forts of crimes, amaffed mmenfe wealth) was fo fenfible of the difadvantage of a bad character, that I heard him once fay, in his mpudent, profligate manner, that, though he would not give one farthing for virtue, he would give ten housand pounds for a character; because he thould get a hundred thousand pounds by it; whereas he was o infamous, that he had no longer an opportunity of cheating people. Is it poffible then that an hones

man can neglect, what a wife rogue would purchase fo dear?

There is one of the vices above-mentioned, into which people of good education, and, in the main, of good principles, fometimes fall, from mistaken notions of fkill, dexterity, and felf-defence-I mean lying; though it is inteperably attended with more infamy and loss than any other. The prudence and neceffity of often concealing the truth, infenfibly feduces people to violate it. It is the only art of mean capacities, and the only refuge of mean fpirits. Whereas concealing the truth, upon proper occafions, is as prudent and innocent, as telling a lie, upon any occafion, is infamous and foolish. I will ftate to you a cafe in your own department. Suppofe you are employed at a foreign court, and that the minifter of that court is abfurd or impertinent enough to ask you what your inftructions are; will you tell him a lie; which, as foon as found out, and found out it certainly will be, must destroy your credit, blaft your character, and render you ufelefs there? No. Will you tell him the truth, then, and betray your truft? As certainly, No. But you will answer, with firmnefs, That you are furprifed at fuch a question; that you are perfuaded he does not expect an answer to it; but that, at all events he cr tably will not have one. Such an answer will give him confidence in you; he will conceive an opinion of your veracity, of which opinion you may afterwards make very honeft and fair advantages. But if, in ne gociations, you are looked upon as a liar, and a trick fter, no confidence will be placed in you, nothing will be communicated to you, and you will be in the fitua tion of a man who has been burnt in the cheek; and who, from that mark, cannot afterwards get an hone livelihood if he would, but muft continue a thief.

Lord Bacon, very juftly makes a diftinction between fimulation and diffimulation; and allows the latter rather than the former; but ftill obferves, that the are the weaker fort of politicians, who have recour to either. A man who has strength of mind, and Atrength of parts, wants neither of them. "Certain

ly," fays he, "the ableft men that ever were, have all had an openness and frankness of dealing, and a name of certainty and veracity; but then, they were like horfes well managed; for they could tell, paffing well, when to stop, or turn." There are people who indulge themfelves in a fort of lying, which they reckon innocent, and which in one fenfe is fo; for it hurts nobody but themfelves. This fort of lying is the fpurious offspring of vanity, begotten upon folly: thefe people deal in the marvellous; they have feen fome things that never exifted; they have feen other things which they never really faw, though they did exift, only because they were thought worth feeing. Has any thing remarkable been faid or done in any place, or in any company? They immediately prefent and declare themselves eye or ear witneffes of it. They have done feats themfelves, unattempted, or at least unperformed, by others. They are always the heroes of their own fables; and think that they gain confideration, or at least prefent attention, by it-whereas, in truth, all they get is ridicule and contempt, not without a good degree of distrust: for one must naturally conclude, that he who will tell any lie from idle vanity, will not fcruple telling a greater for interest. Had I really feen any thing so very extraordinary as to be almoft incredible, I would keep it to myself, rather than, by telling it, give any body room to doubt for one minute of my veracity. A lie is a vice of the mind, and of the heart. Be fcrupuloufly jealous of the purity of your moral character! keep it immaculate, unble.nifhed, unfullied, and it will be unfuspected. Defamation and calumny never attack where there is no weak place; they magnify, but they do

not create.

There is a great difference between that purity of character which I fo earnestly recommend to you, and the ftoical gravity and aufterity of character, which I do by no means recommend to you. At your age, I would no more with you to be a Cato, than a Clodius. Le, and be reckoned, a man of bufinefs. Enjoy this happy and giddy time of your life; shine in the plea U

ures, and in the company of people of your own age. This is all to be done, and indeed only can be done, without the leaft taint to the purity of your moral character for thofe miftaken young fellows, who think to fhine by an impious or immoral licentioufnefs, fhine only from their ftinking, like corrupted flesh in the dark. Without this purity, you can have no dignity of character; and, without dignity of character it is impoffible to rife in the world. You must be refpectable, if you will be refpected. I have known people flattern away their character, without really polluting it; the conféquence of which has been, that they have become innocently contemptible; their merit has been dimmed, their pretenfions unregarded, and all their views defeated. Character must be kept bright, as well as clean. Content yourfelf with mediocrity in nothing. In purity of character, and in politenefs of manners, labour to excel all, if you wish to equal many-Adieu !

LETTER LXXXVII.

proper Degree of Confidence in Company recommended.. The Author's Embarraffment when first introduced...Manners of different Countries...Old Women.

MY DBAR FRIEND,

London, January the 11th

YESTERDAY I received a letter from Mr. Harte,

of the 31st December. He tells me two things that give me great fatisfaction; one is, that there are very few English at Rome; the other is, that you frequent the beft foreign companies. In thefe companies you muft not be difcouraged, and think yourfelf cither. flighted or laughed at because you fee others, older anti more used to the world, eafier, more familiar, and confequently rather better received in thofe companies than yourfelf. In time your turn will come; and if you do but how an inclination, a defire to please, though you fhould be embarraffed, or even err in the. means (which must neceffarily happen to you at first)

yet the will (to ufe a vulgar expreffion) will be taken. for the deed; and people, inftead of laughing at you, will be glad to inftruct you. Good fenfe can only give you the great outlines of good-breeding; but ob fervation and ufage can alone give you the delicate touches, and the fine colouring. You will naturally endeavour to fhow the utmoft refpect to people of certain ranks and characters, and confequently you will fhow it; but the proper, the delicate manner of fhowing that refpect, nothing but observation and time can give.

I remember, that when, with all the awkwardness and ruft of Cambridge about me, I was first introduced into good company, I was frightened out of my wits. I was determined to be, what I thought civil; I made fine low bows, and placed myfelf below every body; but when I was fpoken to, or attempted to fpeak myfelf, obftupui, fieteruntque come, et vox faucibus haft +. If I faw people whilper, I was fure it was at me; and I thought myself the fole object of either the ridicule or the cenfure of the whole companywho, doubtlefs did not trouble their heads about me. In this way I fuffered, for fome time, like a criminal at the bar and fhould certainly have renounced all po lite company for ever, if I had not been fo convinced of the abfolute neceflity of forming my manners upon thofe of the best companies, that I determined to perfevere, and fuffer any thing, or eyery thing, rather than not compafs that point. Infenfibly it grew eafierto me; and I began not to bow fo ridiculoufly low, and to anfwer queftions without great hesitation or ftammering if, now and then, fome charitable people, feeing my embarraffiment, and being difœuvré ‡ themselves, came and spoke to me, I confidered them as angels fent to comfort me; and that gave me a lit tle courage. I got more foon afterwards, and was intrepid enough to go up to a fine woman, and tell her I thought it a warm day: fhe answered me, very

was ftupified, my hair flood erect, and my voice hesitated. I Ditengaged.

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