the value of every word and action. A forward, noisy, importunate, overbearing way of talking, is the very quintessence of ill breeding: and hasty contradiction, unseasonable interruption of persons in their discourse, especially of elders or superiors, loud laughter, winkings, grimaces, and affected contortions of the body, are not only of low extraction in themselves, but are the natural symptoms of self-sufficiency and impudence.

It is a sign of great ignorance to talk much to other people, of things in which they have no interest; and to be speaking familiarly by name of distant persons, to those who have no knowledge of them. It shows that the ideas are comprehended within a very narrow sphere, and that the memory has but few objects.

If you speak of any thing remarkable in its way, many inconsiderable people have a practice of telling you something of the same kind, which they think much more remarkable. If any person in the company is commended for what they do, they will be instantly telling you of somebody else whom they know, who does it much better; and thus a modest person, who meant to entertain, is disappointed and confounded by another's rudeness. True gentility, when improved by good sense, avoids every appearance of self-importance; and polite humility takes every opportunity of giving importance to the company; of which it may be truly said, as it was of worldly wealth, "it is better to give than to receive." In our commerce with mankind, we are always to consider, that their affairs are of more concern to them, than our's are; and we should treat them on this principle, unless we are occasionally questioned, and directed to our,

selves by the turn of the conversation. Discretion will always fix on some subject in which the company have a common share. Talk not of music to a physician, nor of medicine to a fiddler; unless the fiddler should be sick, and the physician at a concert. He that speaks only of such subjects as are familiar to himself, treats his company as the stork did the fox, presenting an entertainment to him in a deep pitcher, out of which no creature could feed but a long-billed fowl.

The rules I have laid down are such as take place chiefly in our conversation with strangers: among friends and acquaintance, where there is freedom and pleasantry, daily practice will be attended with less reserve. But here let me give you warning, that too great familiarity, especially if attend. ed with roughness and importunity, is always dangerous to friendship, which must be treated with some degree of tenderness and delicacy, if you wish it to be lasting. You are to keep your friend by the same behaviour that first won his esteem: and observe this, as a maxim verified by daily experience— that men advance themselves more commonly by the lesser arts of discretion, than by the more valuable endowments of wit and science; which, without discretion to recommend them, are often left to disappointment and beggary.

The earl of Chesterfield has given many directions, which have been much admired of late years; but his rules are calculated to form the petit maitre, the debauchee, or the insidious politician, with whom it would be totally unprofitable, and even dangerous, to converse. My late friend, the learned Dr. Delany, at the end of his anonymous Observa

tions on Lord Orrery's Remarks, published a short original discourse of Swift on Good Manners, which contains more to the purpose in one page of it, than you will find in the whole volume of the courtly earl, so highly applauded by ignorant people for his knowledge of the world.

We are apt to look upon good manners as a lighter sort of qualification, lying without the system of morality and Christian duty; which a man may possess or not possess, and yet be a very good man. But there is no foundation for such an opinion the apostle St. Paul hath plainly comprehended it in his well-known description of charity, which signifies the friendship of Christians, and is extended to so many cases, that no man can practise that virtue, and be guilty of ill manners. Show me the man, who in his conversation discovers no signs that he is puffed up with pride; who never behaves himself unseemly, or with impropriety * ; who neither envies nor censures; who is kind and patient toward his friends; who seeketh not his own, but considers others rather than himself, and gives them the preference; I say, that man is not only all that we intend by a gentleman, but much more : he really is, what all artificial courtesy affects to be, a philanthropist, a friend to mankind; whose company will delight while it improves, and whose good will rarely be evil spoken of. Christianity, therefore, is the best foundation of what we call good manners; and of two persons, who have equal knowledge of the world, he that is the best Christian will be the best gentleman.

Ασχημόνως.

III.

ON TEMPERANCE.

A HEALTHY body and a sedate mind are blessings, without which, this life, considered in itself, is little better than a punishment: and you should reflect on this while you are young, before intemperance has brought you into bondage; for it will be too late to persuade, when the judgment is depraved and weakened by ill habits. The epicure, by attempting to make too much of this life, shortens its period, and lessens its value. Instead of being the life of a man, it is scarcely so much as the life of a beast; for most beasts know when to be satisfied.

I have been led into these reflections by seeing in the newspapers the death of Gulosus, a country gentleman in the west of England, a man of good parts, a friendly disposition, and agreeable conversation. He was naturally of a strong constitution, and might have lasted to a good old age; but he is gone before his time, through an error in opinion, which has destroyed more than the sword. The sports of the field, to which he was much addicted, procured him a great appetite; and by the favour of a neighbour, who had the merit of keeping a full table, he had daily opportunities of gratifying it at an easy rate. He asked a friend, how much port a man might drink without hurting himself? This question was put to a valetudinarian, who gave it as his private opinion, that a piut in a day was

more than would do any man good. "There," says he, "you and I differ; for I am convinced that one bottle after dinner will never hurt any man that uses exercise." Under this persuasion, he persevered in his custom of eating and drinking as much as he could; though the excess of one day obliged him to take a large dose of rhubarb the next; so that his life was a continual struggle between ful. ness and physic, till nature was wearied out, and he sunk all at once, at the age of forty, under the stroke of an apoplexy. When nature fails in a strong man, the change is often very sudden. I, who am obliged to live by rule, and am hitherto alive beyond hope, have seen the end of many younger and stronger men, who have unhappily presumed upon their strength, and have persevered in a constant habit of eating and drinking without any reserve, till their digestive powers have failed, and their whole constitution has been shattered; so that either death, or incurable infirmity, has been the consequence.

What can be the reason, why the French people are so much less troubled with distempers, and are so much more lively in their spirits, than the English? A gentleman of learning, with whom I had the pleasure of conversing at Paris, made this observation on the subject: "You English people give no rest to your faculties: you take three meals every day, and live in constant fulness, without any relief: thus nature is overcharged, crudities are accumulated in the vessels of the body, and you fall early into apoplexies, palsies, insanity, or hopeless stupidity. Whereas, if we are guilty of any excess, our meagre days, which are two in a week, bring us