Happiness consists in pursuing our inclinations without disturbance, and without getting into trouble.  Make it, then, your first rule of conduct always to do exactly as you please; that is, if you can.  I am not like other moralists, who talk in one way and act in another.  What I advise you to do, is nothing more than what I practise myself, as you have very often observed, I dare say.

Be careful to show, invariably, a proper respect for the laws; that is to say, when you do anything illegal, take all the precautions that you can against being found out.  Here, perhaps, my example is somewhat at variance with my doctrine; but I am stronger, you know, than the executive, and therefore, instead of my respecting it, it ought to respect me.

Be sure to keep a quiet conscience.  In order that you may secure this greatest of blessings, never allow yourselves to regret any part of your past behaviour; and whenever you feel tempted to do so, take the readiest means that you can think of to banish reflection, or, as Lord Byron very properly terms it—­

  “The blight of life, the demon Thought!”

You have observed that, after having knocked anybody on the head, I generally begin to dance and sing.  This I do, not because I am troubled with any such weakness as remorse, but in order to instruct you.  I do not mean to say that you are to conduct yourselves precisely in the same manner under similar circumstances; a pipe, or a pot, or a pinch of snuff—­in short, any means of diversion—­will answer your purpose equally well.

Adhere strictly to truth—­whenever there is no occasion for lying.  Be particularly careful to conceal no one circumstance likely to redound to your credit.  But when two principles clash, the weaker, my good people, must, as the saying is, go to the wall.  If, therefore, it be to your interest to lie, do so, and do it boldly.  No one would wear false hair who had hair of his own; but he who has none, must, of course, wear a wig.  I do not see any difference between false hair and false assertions; and I think a lie a very useful invention.  It is like a coat or a pair of breeches, it serves to clothe the naked.  But do not throw your falsifications away:  I like a proper economy.  Some silly persons would have you invariably speak the truth.  My friends, if you were to act in this way, in what department of commerce could you succeed?  How could you get on in the law? what vagabond would ever employ you to defend his cause?  What practice do you think you would be likely to procure as a physician, if you were to tell every old woman who fancied herself ill, that there was nothing the matter with her, or to prescribe abstinence to an alderman, as a cure for indigestion?  What would be your prospect in the church, where, not to mention a few other little trifles, you would have, when you came to be made a bishop, to say that you did not wish to be any such thing?  No, my friends, truth is all very well