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LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

way of dipping; but some book of rational amusement; and
detached pieces, as Horace, Boileau, Waller, La Bruyere, &c.
This will be so much time faved, and by no means ill employed.
Many people lofe a great deal of time by reading: for they read
frivolous and idle books; such as the absurd Romances of the two
left centuries; where characters, that never exifted, are infpidly
difplayed, and fentiments, that were never felt, pompouly de-
feribed. The oriental ravings and extravagancies of the Arabian
Nights, and Mogul Tales. Or, the new flimy brochures that
now fwarm in France, of Fairy Tales, Réflexions fur le Cœur et
l'Esprit, Métaphysique de l'Amour, Analyfe des beaux Sentiments;
and fuch fort of idle frivolous ſtuff, that nourishes and improves
the mind juſt as much as whipped cream would the body.
Stick to the beſt eſtablished books in every language; the cele-
brated Poets, Hiftorians, Orators, or Philofophers. By theſe
means (to uſe a city metaphor) you will make fifty per cent. of
that time, of which others do not make above three or four, or
probably nothing at all.

Many people loſe a great deal of their time by lazineſs; they
loll and yawn in a great chair, tell themſelves that they have not
time to begin any thing then, and that it will do as well another
time. This is a moſt unfortunate diſpoſition, and the greateſt
obſtruction to both knowledge and buſineſs. At your age, you
have no right nor claim to lazineſs; I have, if I pleafe, being
emeritus. You are but juſt lifted in the world, and muſt be
aſtive, diligent, indefatigable. If ever you propoſe commanding
with dignity, you muſt ſerve up to it with diligence. Never put
off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.

Diſpatch is the ſoul of buſineſs; and nothing contributes more
to Diſpatch, than Method. Lay down a method for every thing,
and ſtick to it inviolably, as far as unexpected incidents may allow.

Fix

TO HIS SON.

553

Fix one certain hour and day in the week for your accompts, and
keep them together in their proper order; by which means they
will require very little time, and you can never be much cheated.
Whatever letters and papers you keep, docket and tie them up
in their respective claffes, fo that you may inflantly have recourse
to any one. Lay down a method alſo for your reading, for which
you allot a certain ſhare of your mornings; let it be in a con-
fident and confecutive courſe, and not in that defultory and
immethodical manner, in which many people read ſeraps of dif-
ferent authors, upon different ſubjects. Keep a uſeful and ſhort
common-place book of what you read, to help your memory
only, and not for pedantic quotations. Never read Hiftory with-
out having maps, and a chronological book, or tables, lying
by you, and conſantly recurred to; without which, Hiftory is only
a confuſed heap of faſts. One method more I recommend to you,
by which I have found great benefit, even in the moſt diſpipated
part of my life; that is, to rife early, and at the fame hour every
morning, how late ſoever you may have fate up the night before.
This ſecures you an hour or two, at leaſt, of reading or reflection,
before the common interruptions of the morning begin; and it
will ſave your conſtitution, by forcing you to go to bed early, at
leaſt, one night in three.

You will ſay, it may be, as many young people would, that
all this order and method is very troubleſome, only fit for dull
people, and a diſagreeable reſtraint upon the noble ſpirit and fire
of youth. I deny it; and aſſert, on the contrary, that it will
procure you, both more time and more taſte for your pleaſures;
and, ſo far from being troubleſome to you, that, after you have
purſued it a month, it would be troubleſome to you to lay it
aſide. Buſineſs whets the appetite, and gives a taſte to pleaſures,
as exerciſe does to food: and buſineſs can never be done
without method: it raſes the ſpirits for pleaſures; and a

VOL. I.

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ſpectacle 3

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LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

*Speffacle*, a ball, an assembly, will much more senfibly affect a man who has employed, than a man who has loſt, the preceding part of the day; nay, I will venture to ſay, that a fine lady will feem to have more charms, to a man of ſtudy or buſineſs, than to a faunterer. The fame lifteſſeſs runs through his whole conduct, and he is as infipid in his pleafures, as ineſticient in every thing heſe.

I hope you earn your pleafures, and conſequently taſte them; for, by the way, I know a great many men, who call themſelves Men of Pleaſure, but who, in truth, have none. They adopt other people's, indiſcriminately, but without any taſte of their own. I have known them often infliſt exceſſes upon themſelves, becauſe they thought them genteel; though they ſate as awkwardly upon them as other people's clothes would have done. Have no pleafures but your own, and then you will ſhine in them. What are yours? Give me a ſhort hiftory of them. *Tenez vous votre coin a table, et dans les bonnes compagnies ? y brillez vous du côté de la politesse, de l'enjoïement, du badinage ? Etes vous galant ? Filez vous le parfaît amour ? Eſ-t-il question de fléchir par vos foins et par vos attentions les rigoureux de quelque-fère Princeſe ?* You may safely truſt me; for, though I am a ſevere cenſor of Vice and Folly, I am a friend and advocate for Pleaſures, and will contribute all in my power to yours.

There is a certain dignity to be kept up in pleafures, as well as in buſineſs. In love, a man may loſe his heart with dignity; but if he loſes his noſe, he loſes his character into the bargain. At table, a man may, with decency; have a diſlinguifhing palate; but indiſcriminate voraciouſneſs degrades him to a glutton. A man may play with decency; but if he games he is diſgraced. Vivacity and wit make a man ſhine in company; but trite jokes and loud laughter, reduce him to a buffoon. Every virtue, they ſay, has its kindred vice; every pleaſure, I am ſure, has its neighbouring diſgrace. Mark carefully, therefore, the line that ſepa- rates

TO HIS SON.

555

rates them, and rather ſtop a yard ſhort, than ſtep an inch beyond it.

I wiſh to God that you had as much pleaſure in following my advice, as I have in giving it you; and you may the eſtian have it, as I give you none that is inconfiſtent with your pleaſure. In all that I ſay to you, it is your intereſt alone that I confider: truſt to my experience; you know you may to my affection. Adieu.

I have received no letter yet, from you or Mr. Harte.

## LETTER CLXXXV.

London, February the 8th, O. S. 1750.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

YOU have, by this time, I hope and believe, made ſuch a progreſs in the Italian language, that you can read it with eafe; I mean, the eafe books in it: and indeed, in that, as well as in every other language, the eafeſt books are generally the beſt; for, whatever author is obscure and difficult, in his own language, certainly does not think clearly. This is, in my opinion, the eafe of a celebrated Italian author; to whom the Italians, from the admiration they have of him, have given the epithet of *il divino*; I mean, *Dante*. Though I formerly knew Italian extremely well, I could never understand him; for which reaſon, I had done with him, fully convinced that he was not worth the pains neceſſary to understand him.

The good Italian authors are, in my mind, but few; I mean, authors of invention; for there are, undoubtedly, very good Hiftorians, and excellent Tranflators. The two Poets worth your reading, and, I was going to ſay, the only two, are

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Taffo

556

LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

Taffo and Ariofo. Taffo's *Gierufalemme Liberata*, is altogether unqueftionably a fine Poem, though it has ſome low, and many falſe thoughts in it: and Boileau very juſtly makes it the mark of a bad taſſe, to compare *le Clinquant du Taffè*, *a l'Or de Virgile*. The image, with which he adorns the introduction of his Epic Poem, is low and diſguſting; it is that of a ſroward, ſick, puking child, who is deceived into a doſe of neceſſary phyſic by *du bon bon*. The verſes are theſe.

Cosi all' egro fanciul porgiamo aſperſi
Di ſoavi licor gli orli del vaſo:
Succi amari ingannato intanto ei beve,
E dall' inganno fuo vita riceve.

However, the Poem, with all its ſaults about it, may juſtly
be called a fine one.

If fancy, imagination, invention, deſcription, &c. confititute
a Poet, Arioſto is, unqueſtionably, a great one. His Orlando,
it is true, is a medley of lies and truths, ſacred and profane,
wiſs, loves, enchantments, giants, mad heroes, and adventurous
damſels: but then, he gives it you very fairly for what it is, and
does not pretend to put it upon you for the true *Epopée*, or Epic
Poem. He ſays,

Le Donne, i Cavalier, l'arme, gli amori
Le cortefie, l'audaci impreſe, io canto.

The connections of his ſtories are admirable, his ſ reflections juſt,
his ſneers and ironies incomparable, and his painting excellent.
When Angelica, after having wandered over half the world
alone with Orlando, pretends, notwithstanding,

— ch'al ſior virginal coſi avea ſalvo,
Come ſelo portò dal matern'alvo

The

TO HIS SON.

557

The Author adds, very gravely,

Forſe era ver, ma non però credibile
A chi del ſenſo ſuo ſoffe Signore.

Aſtolpho's being carried to the moon, by St. John, in order to
look for Orlando's loft wits, at the end of the 34th book, and
the many loft things that he finds there, is a moſt happy extra-
vagancy, and contains, at the fame time, a great deal of ſenſe.
I would advife you to read this Poem with attention. It is,
alſo, the ſource of half the tales, novels, and plays, that have
been written ſince.

The Paſlor Fido of Guarini is ſo celebrated, that you ſhould
read it; but in reading it, you will judge of the great propriety of
the characters. A parcel of ſhepherds and ſhepherdeſſes, with
the true poſſoral ſimplicity, talk metaphyſics, epigrams, concetti,
and quibbles, by the hour, to each other.

The *Aminta del Taffo*, is much more what it is intended to
be, a Paſtoral; the ſhepherds, indeed, have their concetti, and
their antitheſes; but are not quite ſo ſublime and abſtracted as
thoſe in *Paſlor Fido*. I think that you will like it much the
beſt of the two.

Petrarca is, in my mind, a ſing ſong love-fick Poet; much
admired, however, by the Italians: but an Italian, who ſhould
think no better of him than I do, would certainly ſay, that he
deferved his Laura better than his *Lauro*; and that wretched
quibble would be reckoned an excellent piece of Italian wit.

The Italian Proſe-writers, (of invention I mean) which I would
recommend to your acquaintance, are *Machiavello*, and *Bocaccio*;
the former, for the eſtablished reputation which he has acquired,
of a confummate Politician, whatever my own private ſentiments
may be of either his politics or his morality: the latter, for
his

558

LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

his great invention, and for his natural and agreeable manner of telling his stories.

Guicciardini, Bentivoglio, Davila, &c. are excellent Hiftorians, and deserve being read with attention. The nature of Hiftory checks, a little, the flights of Italian imaginations; which, in works of invention, are very high indeed. Translations curb them still more; and their translations of the Classics are incompa- rable; particularly the first ten, translated in the time of Leo the Xth, and inferscribed to him, under the title of the *Collana*. That original *Collana*, has been lengthened since; and, if I mistake not, confifts, now, of one hundred and ten volumes.

From what I have read, you will easily gueſs, that I meant to put you upon your guard; and not to let your fancy be dazzled and your taſte corrupted, by the *concetti*, the quaintneſſes, and falſe thoughts, which are too much the charaſteriſtics of the Italian and Spanish authors. I think you are in no great danger, as your taſte has been formed upon the beſt ancient models; the Greek and Latin authors of the beſt ages, who indulge themſelves in none of the puerilities I have hinted at. I think I may ſay, with truth, that true wit, found taſte, and good ſenſe, are now as it were engroſſed by France and England. Your old acquaintances the Germans, I fear, are a little below them; and your new ac- quaintances, the Italians, are a great deal too much above them. The former, I doubt, crawl a little; the latter, I am ſure, very often fly out of fight.

I recommended to you, a good many years ago, and I believe you then read, *La manière de bien penfer dans les ouvrages d'esprit, par le Pere Bour hours*; and I think it is very well worth your reading again, now that you can judge of it better. I do not know any book that contributes more to form a true taſte; and you find there, into the bargain, the moſt celebrated paffages, both of the

2

ancients

TO HIS SON.

559

ancients and the moderns; which refrefh your memory with what you have formerly read in them ſeparately. It is followed by a book much of the fame ſize, by the fame author, entitled, *Suite des Pensees ingénieuses*.

To do juſtice to the beſt English and French authors; they have not given into that falſe taſte; they allow no thoughts to be good, that are not juſt, and founded upon truth. The Age of Lewis XIV. was very like the Auguſtan; Boileau, Moliere, la Fontaine, Racine, &c. eſtablished the true, and expofed the falſe taſte. The reign of King Charles II. (meritorious in no other reſpect) banifhed falſe taſte out of England, and proſeribed Puns, Quibbles, Acroſties, &c. Since that, falſe wit has renewed its attacks, and endeavoured to recover its loft empire, both in Eng- land and France; but without ſucces: though, I muſt ſay, with more ſucces in France than in England. Addifon, Pope, and Swift, having vigorously defended the rights of good ſenſe; which is more than can be ſaid of their cotemporary French authors; who have of late had a great tendency to *le faux brillant*, *le ra- finement*, et *l'entortillement*. And Lord Rofcommon would be more in the right now, than he was then, in ſaying, that

> The English bullion of one ſterling line,
> Drawn to French wire, would through whole pages ſhine.

Loſe no time, my dear child, I conjure you, in forming your taſte, your manners, your mind, your every thing: you have but two years time to do it in; for, whatever you are, to a certain degree, at twenty, you will be, more or leſs, all the reſt of your life. May it be a long and happy one! Adieu.

LETTER

560 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

LETTER CLXXXVI.

London, February the 22d, O. S. 1750.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

IF the Italian of your letter to Lady Chesterfield was all your own, I am very well satisfied with the progres which you have made in that language in fo fhort a time; according to that gradation, you will, in a very little time more, be master of it. Except at the French Embaflador's, I believe you hear only Italian fpoke; for the Italians speak very little French, and that little, generally very ill. The French are even with them, and generally speak Italian as ill; for I never knew a Frenchman in my life who could pronounce the Italian ce ci, or ge gi. Your defire of pleafing the Roman Ladies will of courſe give you, not only the defire, but the means, of speaking to them elegantly in their own language. The Princeſs Borghefe, I am told, ſpeaks French both ill, and unwillingly; and therefore you ſhould make a merit to her of your application to her language. She is, by a kind of preſcription (a longer than ſhe would probably wiſh) at the head of the *beau monde* at Rome; and can, conſequently, eſtabliſh or deſtroy a young fellow's ſaſhionable character. If ſhe declares him *amabile e leggiadro*, others will think him ſo, or, at leaſt, thofe who do not, will not dare to ſay ſo. There are in every great town ſome ſuch women, whose rank, beauty, and fortune have confpired to place them at the head of the ſaſhion. They have generally been gallant, but within certain decent bounds. Their gallantries have taught, both them and their admirers, good-breeding; without which they could keep up no dignity; but would be villified by thofe very gallantries which put them in vogue. It is with theſe women, as with Minifters and Favourites at Court; they decide

TO HIS SON.

decide upon ſaſhion and characters, as theſe do of fortunes and preferments. Pay particular court, therefore, wherever you are, to theſe female fovereigns of the *beau monde*: their recommendation is a paffport through all the realms of politenesſs. But then, remember that they require minute, officious attentions. You ſhould, if poffible, gueſt at, and anticipate, all their little fancies and inclinations; make yourſelf familiarly and domeſtically uſeful to them, by offering yourſelf for all their little commiſſions, and affiſing in doing the honours of their houſes, and entering with ſeeming unſion into all their little grievances, buſſles, and views; for they are always busy. If you are once ben ſiccato at the Palazzo Borghefe, you will ſoon be in ſaſhion at Rome; and being in ſaſhion, will ſoon ſaſhion you; for that is what you muſt now think of very ſeriously.

I am forry that there is no good dancing-maſler at Rome, to form your exterior air and carriage; which, I doubt, are not yet the genteeleft in the world. But you may, and I hope you will, in the mean time, obſerve the air and carriage of thofe who are reckoned to have the beſt, and form your own upon them. Eafe, graceſulneſs, and dignity, compoſe the air and addrefs of a Man of ſaſhion; which is as unlike the affected attitudes and motions of a *petit maître*, as it is to the awkward, negligent, clumy, and ſlouching manner of a booby.

I am extremely pleafed with the account Mr. Harte has given me of the allotment of your time at Rome. Thoſe five hours every morning, which you employ in ſerious ſtudies with Mr. Harte, are laid out with great intereſt, and will make you rich all the reſt of your life. I do not look upon the ſubsequent morning hours, which you pafs with your *Cicerone*, to be ill diſpoſed of; there is a kind of connection between them: and your evening diventions, in good company, are, in their way, as useful as the rest.

562 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

uful and necessary. This is the way for you to have both weight
and luftre in the world; and this is the object which I always had
in view in your education.

Adieu, my friend! Go on and prosper.

Mr. Grevenkop has just received Mr. Harte's letter of the
19th, N. S.

LETTER CLXXXVII.

London, March the 8th, O. S. 1750.

YOUNG as you are, I hope you are in hafte to live; by
living, I mean living with luftre and honour to yourself,
with utility to society; doing, what may deferve to be written, or
writing what may deferve to be read: I should with both. Thofe
who confider life in that light, will not idly lavifh one mo-
ment. The prefent moments are the only ones we are fure of,
and as fuch the moſt valuable; but yours are doubly ſo, at your
age; for the credit, the dignity, the comfort, and the pleasure
of all your future moments, depend upon the uſe you make of
your prefent ones.

I am extremely satisfied with your prefent manner of employing
your time; but will you always employ it as well? I am far from
meaning always in the fame way; but I mean as well in pro-
portion, in the variation of age and circumftances. You now
ſtudy five hours every morning; I neither fuppofe that you will,
nor defire that you ſhould, do ſo for the reſt of your life. Both
bufineſs and pleasure will juſtly and equally break in upon thofe
hours. But then, will you always employ the leifure, they leave
you, in uful ſtudies? If you have but an hour, will you improve
that hour, inſtead of idling it away? While you have ſuch a
friend

TO HIS SON.

563

friend and monitor with you as Mr. Harte, I am fure you will.
But, fuppofe that bufineſs and situations ſhould, in fix or ſeven
months, call Mr. Harte away from you; tell me truly, what may
I expect and depend upon from you, when left to your ſelf? May
I be fure that you will employ ſome part of every day, in adding
fomething to that flock of knowledge which he will have left you?
May I hope that you will allot one hour in the week to the care
of your own affairs, to keep them in that order and method which
every prudent man does? But, above all, may I be convinced
that your pleafures, whatever they may be, will be confined
within the circle of good company, and people of fashion? Thofe
pleafures I recommend to you; I will promote them, I will pay
for them: but I will neither pay for, nor suffer, the unbecoming,
difgraceful, and degrading pleafures (they cannot be called plea-
fures) of low and profligate company. I confefs, the pleafures of
high life are not always ftrictly philofophical; and, I believe, a
Stoic would blame my indulgence: but I am yet no Stoic, though
turned of five-and-fifty; and I am apt to think that you are rather
leſs ſo, at eighteen. The pleafures of the table, among people of
the firſt fashion, may, indeed, ſometimes, by accident, run into
excefſes; but they will never ſink into a continued courſe of glut-
tony and drunkenness. The gallantry of high life, though not
ftrictly juſtifiable, carries, at leaſt, no external marks of infamy
about it. Neither the heart nor the confitution is corrupted by
it; neither noſe nor character loſſ by it: manners, poffibly, im-
proved. Play, in good company, is only play, and not gaming;
not deep, and, confequently, not dangerous, nor diſhonourable.
It is only the inter-aacts of other amuſements.

This, I am fure, is not talking to you like an old man, though
it is talking to you like an old friend: theſe are not hard con-
ditions to aſſe of you. I am certain you have ſenſe enough to know

how great ſtands.

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LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

how reasonable they are on my part, how advantageous they are
on yours; but have you resolution enough to perform them?
Can you withstand the examples, and the invitations, of the pro-
fligate, and their infamous millionaries? For I have known many
a young fellow seduced by a mauvaise honte, that made him
afhamed to refuse. These are resolutions which you must form,
and fleadily execute, for yourself, whenever you lofe the friendly
care and afflixture of your *Mentor*. In the mean time, make a
greedy use of him; exhaust him, if you can, of all his knowledge;
and get the Prophet's mantle from him, before he is taken away
himself.

You seem to like Rome; How do you go on there? Are you
got into the infide of that extraordinary government? Has your
Abbate Foggini discovered many of those mysteries to you? Have
you made an acquaintance with some eminent Jefuits? I know
no people in the world more infrustive. You would do very
well to take one or two such fort of people home with you to
dinner every day: it would be only a little *mineftra* and *maca-
roni* the more; and a three or four hours conversation *de suite*
produces a thousand useful informations, which short meetings
and snatches at third places do not admit of; and many of those
gentlemen are, by no means, unwilling to dine *gratis*. When-
ever you meet with a man eminent in any way, feed him, and
feed upon him at the fame time; it will not only improve you,
but give you a reputation of knowledge, and of loving it in
others.

I have been lately informed of an Italian book, which I believe
may be of use to you, and which, I dare say, you may get at
Rome; written by one Alberti, about fourcore, or a hundred
years ago, a thick quarto. It is a classical description of Italy;
from whence, I am assured, that Mr. Addifon, to fave himſelf
trouble,

VALLIS LUBRICAE

TO HIS SON.

565

trouble, has taken moſt of his remarks and clafical references. I
am told, that it is an excellent book for a traveller in Italy.

What Italian books have you read, or are you reading? Arioſto
I hope is one of them. Pray apply yourſelf diligently to Italian;
it is ſo eafy a language, that ſpeaking it constantly, and reading
it often, muſt, in fix months more, make you perfectly after
of it: in which case you will never forget it; for we only for-
get those things of which we know but little.

But, above all things, to all that you learn, to all that you ſay,
and to all that you do, remember to join the *Graces*. All is im-
perfect without them; with them, every thing is, at leaſt, tolerable.
Nothing could hurt me more than to find you unattended by
them. How cruelly should I be ſhocked, if, at our firſt meet-
ing, you ſhould prefent yourſelf to me without them? Invoke
then, and ſacrifice to them every moment: they are always
kind, where they are affiduouſly courted. For God's ſake, aim
at perſection in every thing: *Nil aſtum reputans ſi quid ſupereſſet
agendum.* Adieu. Yours, moſt tenderly.

LETTER CLXXXVIII.

London, March the 19th O. S. 1750.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

I Acknowledge your laſt letter of the 24th February N. S. In
return for your earthquake, I can tell you that we have had,
here, more than our ſhare of earthquakes, for we had two very
ſtrong ones in eight-and-twenty days. They really do too much
honour to our cold climate; in your warm one, they are compen-
fated by favours from the ſun, which we do not enjoy.

I did

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LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

566

I did not think that the present Pope was a fort of man, to build
seven modern little chapels at the expence of so respeatable a
piece of antiquity as the *Collyfeum*. However, let his Holines's
tafte of *Virtù* be ever so bad, pray get fomebody to prefent you
to him, before you leave Rome; and without hefitation kifſ his
flipper, or whatever else the *éiquette* of that Court requires. I
would have you fee all thofe ceremonies; and I prefume that you
are, by this time, ready enough at Italian to underftand and anſwer
il *Santo Padre* in that language. I hope, too, that you have ac-
quired addrefs, and uſage enough of the world, to be prefented to
any body, without embarraſſment or diſapprobation. If that is
not yet quite perſect, as I cannot ſupſe that it is entirely,
cuſtom will improve it daily, and habit at laſt complete it. I
have for ſome time told you, that the great difficulties are pretty
well conquered. You have acquired knowledge, which is the
*Principium et Fons*; but you have now a variety of leſſer things
to attend to, which collectively make one great and important
objeſt. You eafily gueſs that I mean, the Graces, the Air, Ad-
drefs, Politenefſs, and, in ſhort, the whole *tournure* and *agréments*
of a Man of Fafhion; ſo many little things confpire to form that
*tournure*, that though ſeparately they ſeem too inſignificant to
mention, yet aggregately they are too material, (for me, who think
for you down to the very loweſt things) to omit. For inſtance;
Do you uſe yourſelf to carve, eat, and drink genteely, and with
eafe? Do you take care to walk, fit, ſland, and prefent yourſelf
gracefully? Are you ſufficiently upon your guard againſt awkward
attitudes, and illiberal, ill-bred, and diſguſting habits; ſuch as
ſeratching yourſelf, putting your ſingers in your mouth, noſe, and
ears? Tricks always acquired at ſchools, often too much neglected
afterwards; but, however, extremely ill bred and naufcous. For
I do not conceive that any man has a right to exhibit, in company,
any

TO HISSON.

567

any one excrement, more than another. Do you drefs well, and
think a little of the *brillant* in your perſon ? That too is neceſſary,
becaufe it is *prévenant*. Do you aim at eafy, engaging, but at the
fame time civil or reſpeſtful manners, according to the company
you are in ? Theſe, and a thouſand other things, which you will
obſerve in people of ſaſhion, better than I can deferibe them, are
abſolutely neceſſary for every man ; but fill more for you, than
for almoſt any man living. The ſhowſiſ, the ſhining, the engag-
ing parts of the charaſter of a fine gentleman, ſhould (confider-
ing your deſtination) be the principal objeſts of your preſent at-
tention.

When you return here, I am apt to think that you will find
fomething better to do, than to run to Mr. Ofborne's at Gray's-
Inn, to pick up ſcarce books. Buy good books, and read them ;
the beſt books are the commoneſt, and the laſt editions are always
the beſt, if the editors are not blockheads; for they may profit of
the former. But take care not to underſtand editions and title-
pages too well. It always ſmells of pedantry, and not always of
learning. What curious books I have, they are indeed but few,
ſhall be at your ſervice. I have ſome of the Old Collana, and
the Maſchiavel of 1550. Beware of the *Bibliomanie*.

In the midſt of either your ſtudies or your pleafures, pray never
loſe view of the objeſt of your deſtination; I mean the political
aſfailes of Europe. Follow them politically, chronologically, and
geographically, through the news-papers, and trace up the faſts
which you meet with there, to their ſources: as for example ;
conſult the Treaties of *Neuſtadt* and *Abo*, with regard to the di-
putes, which you read of every day in the public papers, between
Ruffia and Sweden. For the aſfailes of Italy, which are reported
to be the objeſts of preſent negotiations, recur to the quadruple
alliance of the year 1718, and follow them down through their

ſeveral