good company at those
assemblies, I am very glad to find that you like good company so well. I
already imagine that you are a little, smoothed by it; and that you have
either reasoned yourself, or that they have laughed you out of your
absences and DISTRACTIONS; for I cannot suppose that you go there to
insult them. I likewise imagine, that you wish to be welcome where you
wish to go; and consequently, that you both present and behave yourself
there 'en galant homme, et pas in bourgeois'.

If you have vowed to anybody there one of those eternal passions which I
have sometimes known, by great accident, last three months, I can tell
you that without great attention, infinite politeness, and engaging air
and manners, the omens will be sinister, and the goddess unpropitious.
Pray tell me what are the amusements of those assemblies? Are they little
commercial play, are they music, are they 'la belle conversation', or are
they all three? 'Y file-t-on le parfait amour? Y debite-t-on les beaux
sentimens? Ou est-ce yu'on y parle Epigramme? And pray which is your
department? 'Tutis depone in auribus'. Whichever it is, endeavor to shine
and excel in it. Aim at least at the perfection of everything that is
worth doing at all; and you will come nearer it than you would imagine;
but those always crawl infinitely short of it whose aim is only
mediocrity. Adieu.

P. S. By an uncommon diligence of the post, I have this moment received
yours of the 9th, N. S.

LETTER LXXXVII

LONDON, October 24, O. S. 1749.

DEAR BOY: By my last I only acknowledged, by this I answer, your letter
of the 9th October, N. S.

I am very glad that you approved of my letter of September the 12th, O.
S., because it is upon that footing that I always propose living with
you. I will advise you seriously, as a friend of some experience, and I
will converse with you cheerfully as a companion; the authority of a
parent shall forever be laid aside; for, wherever it is exerted, it is
useless; since, if you have neither sense nor sentiments enough to follow
my advice as a friend, your unwilling obedience to my orders as a father
will be a very awkward and unavailing one both to yourself and me.
Tacitus, speaking of an army that awkwardly and unwillingly obeyed its
generals only from the fear of punishment, says, they obeyed indeed, 'Sed
ut qua mallent jussa Imperatorum interpretari, quam exequi'. For my own
part, I disclaim such obedience.

You think, I