of distinguished merit and eminent characters.  They talk perpetually of their grandfather such-a-one, their uncle such-a-one, and their intimate friend Mr. Such-a-one, with whom, possibly, they are hardly acquainted.  But admitting it all to be as they would have it, what then?  Have they the more merit for those accidents?  Certainly not.  On the contrary, their taking up adventitious, proves their want of intrinsic merit; a rich man never borrows.  Take this rule for granted, as a never-failing one:  That you must never seem to affect the character in which you have a mind to shine.  Modesty is the only sure bait when you angle for praise.  The affectation of courage will make even a brave man pass only for a bully; as the affectation of wit will make a man of parts pass for a coxcomb.  By this modesty I do not mean timidity and awkward bashfulness.  On the contrary, be inwardly firm and steady, know your own value whatever it may be, and act upon that principle; but take great care to let nobody discover that you do know your own value.  Whatever real merit you have, other people will discover, and people always magnify their own discoveries, as they lessen those of others.

For God’s sake, revolve all these things seriously in your thoughts, before you launch out alone into the ocean of Paris.  Recollect the observations that you have yourself made upon mankind, compare and connect them with my instructions, and then act systematically and consequentially from them; not ‘au jour la journee’.  Lay your little plan now, which you will hereafter extend and improve by your own observations, and by the advice of those who can never mean to mislead you; I mean Mr. Harte and myself.

LETTER CXIV

London, May 24., O. S. 1750

My dear friend:  I received yesterday your letter of the 7th, N. S., from Naples, to which place I find you have traveled, classically, critically, and ‘da virtuoso’.  You did right, for whatever is worth seeing at, all, is worth seeing well, and better than most people see it.  It is a poor and frivolous excuse, when anything curious is talked of that one has seen, to say, I saw it, but really I did not much mind it.  Why did they go to see it, if they would not mind it? or why not mind it when they saw it?  Now that you are at Naples, you pass part of your time there ’en honnete homme, da garbato cavaliere’, in the court and the best companies.  I am told that strangers are received with the utmost hospitality at Prince-------’s, ’que lui il fait bonne chere, et que Madame la Princesse donne chere entire; mais que sa chair est plus que hazardee ou mortifiee meme’; which in plain English means, that she is not only tender, but rotten.  If this be true, as I am pretty sure it is, one may say to her in a little sense, ‘juvenumque prodis, publics cura’.