Such manners as these, not only in the partic ular instances which I have mentioned, but likewise in all others, shock and revolt that little pride and vanity which every man has in his heart; and obliterate in us the obligation for the favour conferred, by reminding us of the motive which produced, and the manner which accompanied it.

These faults point out their opposite perfec tions, and your own good sense will naturally suggest them to you.

VOLTAIRE AND LOUIS XIV.

Voltaire sent me, from Berlin, his history du Siècle de Louis XIV. It came at a very proper time; lord Bolingbroke had just taught me how history should be read; Voltaire shows me how it should be written. I am sensible, that it will meet with almost as many critics as readers. Voltaire must be criticised; besides, every man's favourite is attacked: for every prejudice is exposed, and our prejudices are' our mistresses; reason is at best our wife, very often heard indeed, but seldom minded. It is the history of the human understanding, written by a man of parts, for the use of men of parts Weak minds will not like it, even though they do not understand it; which is commonly the measure of their admiration. Dull ones will want those minute and uninteresting details, with which most other histories are encumbered.

He tells me all I want to know, and nothing more. His reflections are short, just, and produce others in his readers. Free from religious, philosophical, political, and national prejudices, beyond any historian I ever met with, he relates all those matters as truly and as impartially, as certain regards, which must always be to some degree observed, will allow him: for one sees plainly, that he often says much less than he would say, if he might. He hath made me much better acquainted with the times of Louis XIV. than the innumerable volumes which I had read could do; and hath suggested this reflection to me, which I had never made before,-His vanity, not his knowledge, made him encourage all, and introduce many arts and sciences in his country. He opened in a manner the human understanding in France, and brought it to its utmost perfection; his age equalled in all, and greatly exceeded in many things (pardon me, pedants!) the Augustan. This was great and rapid; but still it might be done, by the encouragement, the applause, and the rewards of a vain, liberal, and magnif cent prince. What is much more surprising is, that he stopped the operation of the human mind just where he pleased; and seemed to say, "Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther." For, a bigot to his religion, and jealous of his power, free and rational thoughts upon either never entered into a French head during his reign; and the greatest geniuses that ever any age

produced never entertained a doubt of the divine right of kings, or the infallibility of the church. Poets, orators, and philosophers, ignorant of their natural rights, cherished their chains; and blind active faith triumphed, in those great minds, over silent and passive reason. The reverse of this seems now to be the case in France: reason opens itself; fancy and invention fade and decline.

VULGARITY.

A vulgar man is captious and jealous; eager and impetuous about trifles. He suspects himself to be slighted, thinks every thing that is said meant at him; if the company happens to laugh, he is persuaded they laugh at him; he grows angry and testy, says something very impertinent, and draws himself into a scrape, by showing what he calls a proper spirit, and asserting himself. A man of fashion does not suppose himself to be either the sole or principal object of the thoughts, looks, or words of the company; and never suspects that he is either slighted or laughed at, unless he is conscious that he deserves it. And if (which very sel dom happens) the company is absurd or ill-bred enough to do either, he does not care twopence, unless the insult be so gross and plain as to As he is require satisfaction of another kind. above trifles, he is never vehement and eager about them; and, whenever they are concerned,

rather acquiesces than wrangles. A vulgar man's conversation always savours strongly of the lowness of his education and company. It turns chiefly upon his domestic affairs, his servants, the excellent order he keeps in his own family, and the little anecdotes of the neighbourhood; all which he relates with emphasis, as interesting matters. He is a man gossip.

Vulgarism in language is the next and distinguishing characteristic of bad company, and a bad education. A man of fashion avoids nothing with more care than that. Proverbial expressions and trite sayings are the flowers of the rhetoric of a vulgar man.

CHARACTER OF SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.

I much question whether an impartial character of Sir Robert Walpole will or can be transmitted to posterity; for he governed this kingdom so long, that the various passions of mankind mingled, and in a manner incorporated themselves, with every thing that was said or written against him. Never was man more flattered or more abused, and his long power was probably the chief cause of both. I was much acquainted with him, both in his public and private life. I mean to do impartial justice to his character, and therefore my picture of him will, perhaps, be more like him than it will be like any of the other pictures drawn of him. In private life he was good-natured, cheerful,

social; inelegant in his manners, loose in his morals. He had a coarse, strong wit, which he was too free of for a man in his station, as it is always inconsistent with dignity. He was very able as a minister, but without a certain elevation of mind necessary for great good or great mischief. Profuse and appetent, his ambition was subservient to his desire of making a great fortune. He had more of the Mazarin than the Richelieu. He would do mean things for profit, and never thought of doing great ones for glory.

He was both the best parliament man and the ablest manager of parliament that ever lived. An artful, rather than an eloquent speaker, he saw, as by intuition, the disposition of the house, and pressed or receded accordingly; so clear in stating the most intricate matters, especially in the finances, that, whilst he was speaking, the most ignorant thought that they understood what they really did not. Money, not prerogative, was the chief engine of his administration, and he employed it with a success which in a manner disgraced humanity. He was not, it is true, the inventor of that shameful method of governing, which had been gaining ground insensibly ever since Charles the Second; but, with uncommon ski and unbounded profusion, he brought it to that perfection, which at this time dishonours and distresses this country, and which (if not checked, and God knows how it can be now check,