When I took my leave, two maids brought in a fine silver basket of embroidered handkerchiefs; she begged I would wear the richest for her sake, and gave the others to my woman and interpretress.  I returned through the same ceremonies as before, and could not help fancying I had been some time in Mahomet’s paradise, so much I was charmed with what I had seen.  I know not how the relation of it appears to you.  I wish it may give you part of my pleasure; for I would have my dear sister share in all the diversions of, &c.

To THE COUNTESS OF BUTE

Her grand-daughter’s education

28 Jan.  N.S. [1753].

Dear child,

You have given me a great deal of satisfaction by your account of your eldest daughter.  I am particularly pleased to hear she is a good arithmetician; it is the best proof of understanding:  the knowledge of numbers is one of the chief distinctions between us and the brutes.  If there is anything in blood, you may reasonably expect your children should be endowed with an uncommon share of good sense.  Mr. Wortley’s family and mine have both produced some of the greatest men that have been born in England:  I mean Admiral Sandwich, and my grandfather, who was distinguished by the name of Wise William.  I have heard Lord Bute’s father mentioned as an extraordinary genius, though he had not many opportunities of showing it; and his uncle, the present Duke of Argyll, has one of the best heads I ever knew.  I will therefore speak to you as supposing Lady Mary not only capable, but desirous of learning:  in that case by all means let her be indulged in it.  You will tell me I did not make it a part of your education:  your prospect was very different from hers.  As you had no defect either in mind or person to hinder, and much in your circumstances to attract the highest offers, it seemed your business to learn how to live in the world, as it is hers to know how to be easy out of it.  It is the common error of builders and parents to follow some plan they think beautiful (and perhaps is so), without considering that nothing is beautiful that is displaced.  Hence we see so many edifices raised that the raisers can never inhabit, being too large for their fortunes.  Vistas are laid open over barren heaths, and apartments contrived for a coolness very agreeable in Italy, but killing in the north of Britain:  thus every woman endeavours to breed her daughter a fine lady, qualifying her for a station in which she will never appear, and at the same time incapacitating her for that retirement to which she is destined.  Learning, if she has a real taste for it, will not only make her contented, but happy in it.  No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting.  She will not want new fashions, nor regret the loss of expensive diversions, or variety of company, if she can be amused with an author in her closet.  To render this amusement extensive, she should be