care not to venture for sums which, if I won, I should not be the better for; but which, if I lost, I should deeply regret. [Same date.]
Coarse and Vulgar Pleasures.—Does good
company care to have a man reeling drunk among
them? Or to see another tearing his hair and blaspheming,
for having lost at play more than he is
able to pay? Or a whoremaster with half a nose,
and crippled by coarse and infamous debauchery?
No; those who practise, and much more those who
brag of them, make no part of good company; and
are most unwillingly, if ever, admitted into it.
Fashionable Vices.—A real man of fashion
and pleasure observes decency; at least, neither borrows
nor affects vices; and, if he unfortunately has
any, he gratifies them with choice, delicacy, and
secrecy. I have not mentioned the pleasures of the
mind (which are the solid and permanent ones),
because they do not come under the head of what
people commonly call pleasures; which they seem to
confine to the senses. The pleasure of virtue, of
charity, and of learning is true and lasting pleasure;
which I hope you will be well and long acquainted
with. Adieu! [March, 1747.]
A Fine Edition.—If I am rightly informed, I
am now writing to a fine gentleman, in a scarlet coat
