For example, if you happened to be in high good-humour and a flow of spirits, would you go and sing a pont-neuf, or cut a caper, to la Maréchale de Coigny, the Pope's Nuncio, or Abbé Sallier, or to any person of natural gravity and melancholy, or who at that time should be in grief? I believe not: as, on the other hand, I suppose, that if you were in low spirits, or real grief, you would not choose to bewail your situation with la petite Blot. If you cannot command your present humour and disposition, single out those to converse with who happen to be in the humour the nearest to your own.

Loud laughter is extremely inconsistent with les bienséances, as it is only the illiberal and noisy testimony of the joy of the mob at some very silly thing. A gentleman is often seen, but very seldon heard, to laugh. Nothing is more contrary to les bienséances than horse play, or jeux de main of any kind whatever, and has often very serious, sometimes very fatal consequences. Romping, struggling, throwing things at one another's head, are the becoming pleasantries of the mob, but degrade a gentleman; giuoco di mano, giuoco de villano, is a very true saying, among the few true sayings of the Italians.

Peremptoriness and decision in young people is contraire aux bienséances: they should seldom seem to assert, and always use some softening mitigating expression—such as s'il m'est permis de le dire; je croirois plutôt; si j'ose m'expliquer, which softens the manner, without giving up, or even weakening the thing. People of more age and experience expect, and are entitled to, that degree of deference.

There is a bienséance also with regard to people of the lowest degree: a gentleman observes it with his

footman, even with the beggar in the street. He considers them as objects of compassion, not of insult; he speaks to neither d'un ton brusque, but corrects the one coolly, and refuses the other with humanity. There is no one occasion in the world, in which le ton brusque is becoming a gentleman. In short, les bienséances are another word for manners, and extend to every part of life. They are propriety; the Graces should attend in order to complete them. The Graces enable us to do, genteelly and pleasingly, what les bienséances require to be done at all. The latter are an obligation upon every man; the former are an infinite advantage and ornament to any man. May you unite both!

Though you dance well, do not think that you dance well enough, and consequently not endeavour to dance still better. And though you should be told that you are genteel, still aim at being genteeler. If Marcel should, do not you be satisfied. Go on; court the Graces all your life-time. You will find no better friends at Court they will speak in your favour, to the hearts of princes, ministers, and mistresses.

Now that all tumultuous passions and quick sensations have subsided with me, and that I have no tormenting cares nor boisterous pleasures to agitate me, my greatest joy is to consider the fair prospect you have before you, and to hope and believe you will enjoy it. You are already in the world, at an age when others have hardly heard of it. Your character is hitherto not only unblemished in its moral part, but even unsullied by any low, dirty, and ungentlemanlike vice, and will, I hope, continue so. Your knowledge is sound, extensive, and avowed, especially in everything relative to your destination. With such materials to begin, what then is want

ing? Not fortune, as you have found by experience. You have had, and shall have, fortune sufficient to assist your merit and your industry; and, if I can help it, you never shall have enough to make you negligent of either. You have too mens sana in corpore sano-the greatest blessing of all. All therefore that you want is as much in your power to acquire, as to eat your breakfast when set before you. It is only that knowledge of the world, that elegancy of manners, that universal politeness, and those graces, which keeping good company, and seeing variety of places and characters, must inevitably, with the least attention on your part, give you. Your foreign destination leads to the greatest things, and your Parliamentary situation will facilitate your progress. Consider then this pleasing prospect as attentively for yourself, as I consider it for you. Labour on your part to realise it, as I will on mine to assist and enable you to do it. Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia.

Adieu, my dear child! the pleasure of seeing you.

I count the days till I have

I shall soon count the hours,

and at last the minutes, with increasing impatience.

P.S. The mohairs are this day gone from hence for Calais, recommended to the care of Madame Morel, and directed, as desired, to the Comptroller-General. three pieces come to six hundred and eighty French livres.

The

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Greenwich, June 20, O. S. 1751.

So very few people, especially young travellers, see what they see, or hear what they hear, that though I really believe it may be unnecessary with you, yet there can be no harm in reminding you, from time to time,

to see what you see, and to hear what you hear: that is, to see and hear as you should do. Frivolous, futile people, who make at least three parts in four of mankind, only desire to see and hear what their frivolous and futile præ-cursors have seen and heard-as St. Peter's, the Pope, and High Mass, at Rome; Notre Dame, Versailles, the French King, and the French Comedy, in France. A man of parts sees and hears very differently from these gentlemen, and a great deal more. He examines and informs himself thoroughly of everything he sees or hears, and, more particularly, as it is relative to his own profession or destination. Your destination is political; the object, therefore, of your inquiries and observations should be the political interior of things: the forms of government, laws, regulations, customs, trade, manufactures, &c., of the several nations of Europe. This knowledge is much better acquired by conversation, with sensible and well-informed people, than by books—the best of which, upon these subjects, are always imperfect. For example, there are, Present States of France, as there are of England; but they are always defective, being published by people uninformed, who only copy one another. They are, however, worth looking into, because they point out objects for inquiry, which otherwise might possibly never have occurred to one's mind; but an hour's conversation with a sensible Président or Conseiller, will let you more into the true state of the Parliament of Paris than all the books in France. In the same manner, the Almanach Militaire is worth your having; but two or three conversations with officers will inform you much better of their military regulations. People have, commonly, a partiality for their own professions, love to talk of them, and are even flattered

by being consulted upon the subject; when, therefore, you are with any of those military gentlemen (and you can hardly be in any company without some) ask them military questions. Inquire into their methods of discipline, quartering, and clothing their men; inform yourself of their pay, their perquisites, leurs montres, leurs étapes, &c. Do the same as to the marine, and make yourself particularly master of that détail, which has, and always will have, a great relation to the affairs of England; and, in proportion as you get good informations, make minutes of them in writing.

The regulations of trade and commerce in France are excellent, as appears but too plainly for us, by the great increase of both, within these thirty years; for, not to mention their extensive commerce in both the East and West Indies, they have got the whole trade of the Levant from us; and now supply all the foreign markets with their sugars, to the ruin almost of our sugar colonies, as Jamaica, Barbadoes, and the Leeward Islands. Get therefore, what informations you can of these matters also.

Inquire too into their Church matters; for which the present disputes, between the Court and the Clergy, give you fair and frequent opportunities. Know the particular rights of the Gallican Church, in opposition to the pretensions of the See of Rome. I need not recommend ecclesiastical history to you, since I hear you study Dupin* very assiduously.

You cannot imagine how much this solid and useful knowledge of other countries will distinguish you in your own (where, to say the truth, it is very little known or

*Dupin's Bibliotheque des Auteurs Ecclésiastiques, a collection extending to sixty-one volumes, was published in 1698, and in the following years. But Lord Chesterfield's real allusion is to the fair Madame Dupin mentioned in the former letters.