your private affairs, on every occasion, except when it has some pertinent relation to the discourse of the company, or when it is necessary to obtain some valuable purpose.

As to your behaviour at home, keep yourself always above the servants: your station is above theirs; and all persons should act suitably to their station. But do not think I mean that you should treat them haughtily, or look upon the lowest of them with contempt; that you should put on a commanding air, or speak to them in a peremptory tone: this would be most effectually to lose the superiority of your situation, and to become despised and hated by those who ought to regard you with respect and esteem. My meaning is, that you should treat them courteously, but permit no unbecoming familiarity. Never suffer yourself to be made their confidant in any thing that they would conceal from their master and mistress; decline the conversation, but without any frowning looks or harsh language. Avoid also the opposite extreme: do not watch their most trivial actions as a spy, nor report every little misdemeanour which falls under your observation, with the low pleasure and petty officiousness of an informer. Never steal the knowledge of what passes between them, when they think they are alone, by secretly listening with a vain or malevolent curiosity. What you overhear by such means may probably do you more harm, than any thing which may be thus discovered can do you good. If your mother should delegate part of her authority to you, in the management of the household affairs, use it with moderation, and give orders rather in her name than your own you will then be obeyed, without seeming to assame command, or to value yourself upon it.

If your father or mother should at any time express a disapprobation of your conduct, immediately resolve to amend it, apologize for the past, and promise for the future; never seem in haste to justify yourself. Even if you should think that the displeasure of your parents is unmerited, (in which it is a thousand to one but you will be mistaken,) be sure to avoid, on the one hand, all pert and self-sufficient replies, and, on the other, all sullen looks and dumb resentment. If it should happen that a harsh expression escapes them, when their temper is ruffled by the perplexing accidents and disappointments of life, it would be the highest ingratitude and indecency in you to express impatience or discontent: and, as the reward of a contrary conduct, their own reflections upon what is past, when their minds are calm, will be in your favour; and their affection will seek an opportunity of compensating your uneasiness. You should regard these accidents as opportunities of endearing yourself to them, and as tests of your prudence, duty, and affection. What may not children expect from a father, who is a friend to the whole circle of his acquaintance! It is your happiness to have such a father: think yourself secure, from his affection, of every thing that is fit for you, and do not anticipate his bounty by your requests. Both his pleasure and yours will be lessened, if you receive because you ask, and he gives because he cannot deny you. How very shameful, then, is the common triumph of favourites, for having obtained by importunity what is denied to merit, and withheld by prudence! Whatever is thus gained from the hand, is lost in the heart. I have seen, with grief and resentment, every tender moment watched, to urge a request, and wrest a promise, from the generous weakness of unguarded affection.

How mean and selfish is such a practice! Remember, that a noble mind will dispose a person to suffer much, rather than ask a favour which he knows cannot be refused, if he thinks that his friend may have reason to wish it had not been asked.

I shall finish this long letter with some advice of yet higher importance. If you succeed in every design which you form, and the world favour you, till its utmost bounty is exhausted, your happiness will be still imperfect: you will find some desire unsatisfied; and possession will never fill your wishes. But do not suffer the present hour to pass away unenjoyed, by an earnest and anxious desire of some future good: for, if this weakness be indulged, your happiness will still fly from you as you pursue it; and there will be the same distance between you and the object of your wishes, till all the visions of imagination shall vanish, and your progress to further degrees of temporal advantage shall be stopped by the grave. It is notwithstanding true, that the expectation of future good, if the object is worthy of a rational desire, pleases more than any present enjoyYou will, therefore, find that a well-grounded hope of Heaven will give a relish to whatever you shall possess upon earth. If there is no futurity, that we can anticipate with pleasure, we regret every moment that passes; we see that time is flying away with all our enjoyments; that youth is short, health precarious, and age approaching, leaded with infirmities to which death only can put an end. For this reason, endeavour to secure an interest in the favour of God, which will ensure to you an everlasting life of uninterrupted and inconceivable felicity. Nor is this a difficult or an unpleasing attempt; no real present happiness needs be forfeited to purchase

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the future; for virtue and piety at once secure every blessing, both in time and eternity.

I recommend to you the frequent perusal of this letter. As the world opens to you, I believe you will see the reason and the use of all the directions which I have given you. If they assist you, in any degree, to pass through life with safety and reputation, I shall think my labour well bestowed.

I am, dear madam,

your affectionate friend,

John Hawkesworth.

LETTER VII.

The earl of Chatham to his nephew, Thomas Pitt, esq. (afterwards lord Camelford.) at Cambridge.

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My dear nephew,

Bath, Jan. 12, 1754.

Your letter from Cambridge affords me many very sensible pleasures. First, that you are, at last, in a proper place for study and improvement, instead of losing, in London, any more of that most precious thing, time. Secondly, that you seem pleased with the particular society you are placed in, and with the gentleman to whose care and instruction you are committed. And above all, I applaud the sound, right sense, and the love of virtue, which appear through your whole, letter.

You are already possessed of the true clue to guide you through the years of education, in the maxim you lay down, namely, that the use of learning is, to render a man more wise and virtuous, not merely to make him more learned. Go on, my dear boy, by this golden rule, and you cannot fail to become every thing that

your heart prompts you to wish to be, and that mine most affectionately wishes for you. There is but one danger in your way; and that is, perhaps, natural enough to your age, the love of pleasure, or the fear of close application and laborious diligence. With the last, there is nothing you may not conquer: and the first is sure to conquer and enslave every person, who does not strenuously and generously resist the first allurements of it, lest by small indulgences, he fall under the yoke of irresistible habit. "Vitanda est improba Siren, Desidia," I desire may be affixed to the curtains of your bed, and to the walls of your chambers. If you do not rise early, you never can make any progress worth mentioning. If you do not set apart your hours of reading; if you suffer yourself, or any one else, to break in upon them; your days will slip through your hands, unprofitably and frivolously, unpraised by all you wish to please, and really unenjoyed by yourself. Be assured, whatever you take from pleasure, amusements, or indolence, for these first few years of your life, will repay you a hundred fold, in the pleasures, honours, and advantages, of all the remainder of your days.-You are to qualify yourself for the part in society, to which you are called by your birth and estate. You are to be a gentleman of such learning and accomplishments, as may hereafter distinguish you in the service of your country; not a pedant, who reads only to be called learned, instead of considering learning as an instrument of action.

I have not the pleasure of knowing the gentleman who is your tutor; but I dare say he is every way equal to such a charge, which I think no small one. I hope he will concur with me, as to the course of study I