Your friend, the Comte d’Einsiedlen, is arrived here:  he has been at my door, and I have been at his; but we have not yet met.  He will dine with me some day this week.  Comte Lascaris inquires after you very frequently, and with great affection; pray answer the letter which I forwarded to you a great while ago from him.  You may inclose your answer to me, and I will take care to give it him.  Those attentions ought never to be omitted; they cost little, and please a great deal; but the neglect of them offends more than you can yet imagine.  Great merit, or great failings, will make you be respected or despised; but trifles, little attentions, mere nothings, either done, or neglected, will make you either liked or disliked, in the general run of the world.  Examine yourself why you like such and such people, and dislike such and such others; and you will find, that those different sentiments proceed from very slight causes.  Moral virtues are the foundation of society in general, and of friendship in particular; but attentions, manners, and graces, both adorn and strengthen them.  My heart is so set upon your pleasing, and consequently succeeding in the world, that possibly I have already (and probably shall again) repeat the same things over and over to you.  However, to err, if I do err, on the surer side, I shall continue to communicate to you those observations upon the world which long experience has enabled me to make, and which I have generally found to hold true.  Your youth and talents, armed with my experience, may go a great way; and that armor is very much at your service, if you please to wear it.  I premise that it is not my imagination, but my memory, that gives you these rules:  I am not writing pretty; but useful reflections.  A man of sense soon discovers, because he carefully observes, where, and how long, he is welcome; and takes care to leave the company, at least as soon as he is wished out of it.  Fools never perceive where they are either ill-timed or illplaced.

I am this moment agreeably stopped, in the course of my reflections, by the arrival of Mr. Harte’s letter of the 13th July, N. S., to Mr. Grevenkop, with one inclosed for your Mamma.  I find by it that many of his and your letters to me must have miscarried; for he says that I have had regular accounts of you:  whereas all those accounts have been only his letter of the 6th and yours of the 7th June, N. S.; his of the 20th June, N. S., to me; and now his of the 13th July, N. S., to Mr. Grevenkop.  However, since you are so well, as Mr. Harte says you are, all is well.  I am extremely glad that you have no complaint upon your lungs; but I desire that you will think you have, for three or four months to come.  Keep in a course of asses’ or goats’ milk, for one is as good as the other, and possibly the latter is the best; and let your common food be as pectoral as you can conveniently make it.  Pray tell Mr. Harte that, according to his desire, I have wrote a letter of thanks to Mr. Firmian.  I hope you write to him too, from time to time.  The letters of recommendation of a man of his merit and learning will, to be sure, be of great use to you among the learned world in Italy; that is, provided you take care to keep up to the character he gives you in them; otherwise they will only add to your disgrace.