fon. As for inftance, the very abfurd, though almost univerfal custom of drinking people's healths. Can there be any thing in the world lefs relative to any oth er man's health than my drinking a glass of wine? Common sense, certainly, never pointed it out; but yet common fenfe tells me I must conform to it. Good fenfe bids one be civil, and endeavour to please ; though nothing but experience and obfervation car teach one the means properly adapted to time, place, and perfons. This knowledge is the true object of a gentleman's travelling, if he travels as he ought to do. By frequenting good company in every country, he himfelf becomes of every country; he is no longer aut Englishman, a Frenchman, or an Italian, but he is an European he adopts, refpectively, the beft manners of every country; and is a Frenchman at Paris, an Italian at Rome, an Englishman at London.

This advantage, I must confefs, very feldom accrues to my countrymen from their travelling; as they have neither the defire nor the means of getting into good company abroad for in the first place, they are confoundedly bafhful; and, in the next place, they either fpeak no foreign language at all, or, if they do, it is barbaroufly. You poffefs all the advantages that they want; you know the languages in perfection, and have conftantly kept the best company in the places where you have been; fo that you ought to be an European. Your canvas is folid and ftrong, your outlines are good; but remember, that you ftill want the beautiful colouring of Titian, and the delicate graceful touches of Guido. Now is your time to get them. There is, in all good company, a fashionable air, countenance, manner, and phrafeology, which can only be acquired by being in good company, and very attentive to all that paffes there. When you dine or fup at any well-bred man's houfe, obferve carefully how he does the honours of his table to the different guefts. Attend to the compliments of congratulation, or condolence, that you hear a well-bred man make to his fuperiors, to his equals and to his inferiors; watch even his countenance and his tone of voice, for they all confpire in the main

point of pleafing. There is a certain diftinguishing diction of a man of fashion : he will not content himfelf with faying, like John Trott, to a new-married man, "Sir, I wish you much joy;" or to a man who has loft his fon, "Sir, I am forry for your lofs;" and both with a countenance equally unmoved: but he will fay in effect the fame thing in a more elegant and lefs trivial manner, and with a countenance adapted to the occafion. He will advance with warmth, vivacity, and a cheerful countenance, to the new married man, and, embracing him, perhaps fay to him, "If you "do juftice to my attachment to you, you will judge "of the joy that I feel upon this occafion, better "than I can exprefs it," &c. To the other in affliction he will advance flowly with a grave compofure of countenance, in a more deliberate manner, and with a lower voice perhaps fay, "I hope you do me the juftice to be convinced that I feel whatever you feel, "and fhall ever be affected where you are con <cerned."

LETTER CLII.

Court of Berlin... Epic Poetry...Homer...Virgil...Milton...Taff ...Charles XII...Heroes.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Bath, October the 4th

I CONSIDER you now as at the court of Auguftus,

where, if ever the defire of pleafing animated you, it muft make you exert all the means of doing it. You will fee there, full as well, I dare fay, as Horace did at Rome, how states are defended by arms, adorned by manners, and improved by laws. Nay, you have an Horace there, as well as an Auguftus; I have lately read over all his works that are publifhed, though! had read them more than once before. I was induced to this by his Siecle de Louis XIV. You are fo fevere a claffic, that I queftion whether you will allow me to call his Henriade an epic poem, for want of the proper number of gods, devils, witches, and other abfurdities

requifite for the machinery: which machinery is (it feems) neceffary to conftitute the Epopée. But whether you do or not, I will declare (though poffibly to my own fhame) that I never read any epic poem with near fo much pleasure. I am grown old, and have poffibly loft a great deal of that fire which formerly made me love fire in others at any rate, and however attended with fmoke but now I must have all sense, and cannot, for the fake of five righteous lines, forgive a thoufand abfurd ones.

In this difpofition of mind, judge whether I can read all Homer through. I admire his beauties: but, to tell you the truth, when he flumbers I fleep. Virgil, I confefs, is all fenfe, and therefore I like him better than = his model, but he is often languid, efpecially in his five or fix laft books, during which I am obliged to take a good deal of fnuff. Befides, I profefs myself an ally of Turnus, against the pious Eneas, who, like many fpi-difant pious people, does the most flagrant injuftice and violence, in order to execute what they impudently call the will of heaven. But what will you fay, when I tell you truly, that I cannot poffibly read our countryman Milton through? I acknowledge him to have fome moft fublime paffages, fome prodigious flashes of light; but then you muft acknowledge, that light is often followed by darkness visible, to use his own expreffion. Befides, not having the honour to be acquainted with any of the parties in his poem, except the man and the woman, the characters and fpeeches of a dozen or two of angels, and of as many devils, are as much above my reach as my entertainment. Keep this fecret for me; for if it fhould be known, I fhould be abufed by every tastelefs pedant in England. Whatever I have faid to the difadvantage of thefe three poems, holds much stronger against Taffo's Gierufalemme it is true he has very fine and glaring rays of poetry; but then they are only meteors; they dazzle, then difappear; and are fucceeded by falfe thoughts, poor concetti, and abfurd impoffibilities: witness the

* Self-named.

fish and the parrot ; extravagances unworthy of an heroic poem, and would much better have become Ariofto.

I have never read the Lufiad of Camoens, except in a profe tranflation, confequently I have never read it at all, fo fhall fay nothing of it; but the Henriade is all fenfe from the beginning to the end. What hero ever interested more than Henry the Fourth, who, according to the rules of epic poetry, carries on one great and long action, and fucceeds in it at laft? What defcription ever excited more horror than thofe, firft of the maffacre, and then of the famine, at Paris? Was love ever painted with more truth and morbidezza than in the ninth book? Not better in my mind, even in the fourth of Virgil. Upon the whole, with all your claf fical rigour, if you will but fuppofe St. Louis a god, a devil, or a witch, and that he appears in perfon, and not in a dream, the Henriade will be an epic poem accord ing to the stricteft ftatute laws of the Epopée ; but in my court of equity it is one as it is.

Good-night to you, child! for I am going to bed, juft at the hour at which I fuppofe you are beginning

to live at Berlin.

LETTER CLIII.

Popular Monarchs... Art of Pleafing...Impediments to it in the Young... Pride... Inattention... Bashfulness.Duke of Ormond ...Duke of Marlborough...Advice to affociate with Superiors in Age and Rank.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

IT

Bath, November the 11th.

T is a very old and very true maxim, that thofe kings reign the moft fecure, and the moft abfolute, who reign in the hearts of their people. Their popularity is a bet ter guard than their army; and the affections of their fubjects a better pledge of their obedience than their

fears. This rule is, in proportion, full as true, tuvo upon a different fcale, with regard to private people. A man who poffefes that great art of pleading univer

fally, and of gaining the affections of those with whom he converfes, poffeffes a ftrength which nothing elfe can give him: a ftrength which facilitates and helps his rife; and which, in cafe of accidents, breaks his fall. Few people of your age fufficiently confider this great point of popularity; and, when they grow older and wifer, ftrive in vain to recover what they loft by their negligence. There are three principal caufes that hinder them from acquiring this useful ftrength; pride, inattention, and mauvaise honte. The firft, I will not, I cannot fufpect you of; it is too much below your understanding. You cannot, and I am fure you do not, think yourfelf fuperior by nature to the Savoyard who cleans your room, or the footman who cleans your fhoes; but you may rejoice, and with reafon, at the difference that Providence has made in your favour. Enjoy all thofe advantages; but without infulting those who are unfortunate enough to want them, or even doing any thing unneceffarily that may remind them of that want. For my own part, I am more upon my guard as to my behaviour to my fervants, and others who are called my inferiors, than I am towards my equals; for fear of being fufpected of that mean and ungenerous fentiment, of defiring. to make others feel that difference which fortune has, and perhaps, too, undefervedly, made between us. Young people do not enough attend to this; but falfely imagine that the imperitive mood, and a rough tone of authority and decifion, are indications of fpirit and courage. Inattention is always looked upon, though fometimes unjustly, as the effect of pride and contempt; and where it is thought fo, is never forgiven. In this article, young people are generally exceedingly to blame, and offend extremely. Their whole attention is engroffed by their particular fet of acquaintance, and by fome few glaring and exalted objects of rank, beauty, or parts all the reft they think fo little worth their care, that they neglect even common civility towards them. I will frankly confefs to you, that this was one of my great faults when I was o your age. Very attentive to pleafe that narrow