of flutes to soften it in battle, lest they should precipitate themselves into temerity and fury, whereas all other nations commonly make use of harsh and shrill sounds, and of loud and imperious cries, to incite and heat the soldier’s courage to the last degree; so, methinks, contrary to the usual method, in the practice of our minds, we have for the most part more need of lead than of wings; of temperance and composedness than of ardour and agitation.  But, above all things, ’tis in my opinion egregiously to play the fool, to put on the grave airs of a man of lofty mind amongst those who are nothing of the sort:  ever to speak in print (by the book),

“Favellare in puma di forchetta.”

          ["To talk with the point of a fork,” (affectedly)]

You must let yourself down to those with whom you converse; and sometimes affect ignorance:  lay aside power and subtilty in common conversation; to preserve decorum and order ’tis enough-nay, crawl on the earth, if they so desire it.

The learned often stumble at this stone; they will always be parading their pedantic science, and strew their books everywhere; they have, in these days, so filled the cabinets and ears of the ladies with them, that if they have lost the substance, they at least retain the words; so as in all discourse upon all sorts of subjects, how mean and common soever, they speak and write after a new and learned way,

         “Hoc sermone pavent, hoc iram, gaudia, curas,
          Hoc cuncta effundunt animi secreta; quid ultra? 
          Concumbunt docte;”

["In this language do they express their fears, their anger, their
joys, their cares; in this pour out all their secrets; what more?
they lie with their lovers learnedly.”—­Juvenal, vi. 189.]

and quote Plato and Aquinas in things the first man they meet could determine as well; the learning that cannot penetrate their souls hangs still upon the tongue.  If people of quality will be persuaded by me, they shall content themselves with setting out their proper and natural treasures; they conceal and cover their beauties under others that are none of theirs:  ’tis a great folly to put out their own light and shine by a borrowed lustre:  they are interred and buried under ’de capsula totae”—­[Painted and perfumed from head to foot.” (Or:) “as if they were things carefully deposited in a band-box.”—­Seneca, Ep. 115]—­It is because they do not sufficiently know themselves or do themselves justice:  the world has nothing fairer than they; ’tis for them to honour the arts, and to paint painting.  What need have they of anything but to live beloved and honoured?  They have and know but too much for this:  they need do no more but rouse and heat a little the faculties they have of their own.  When I see them tampering with rhetoric, law, logic, and other drugs, so improper and unnecessary for their business, I begin to suspect that the men who inspire