you; which they certainly will not, if you have once shown them contempt. [Same date.]
The Folly of Contempt.—Wrongs are often
given, but contempt never is. Our pride remembers
it forever. It implies a discovery of weaknesses,
which we are much more careful to conceal than
crimes. Many a man will confess his crimes to a
common friend, but I never knew a man who would
tell his silly weaknesses to his most intimate one.
As many a friend will tell us our faults without reserve,
who will not so much as hint at our follies;
that discovery is too mortifying to our self-love,
either to tell another, or to be told of, one's self.
You must, therefore, never expect to hear of your
weaknesses, or your follies, from anybody but me;
those I will take pains to discover, and whenever I
do, I shall tell you of them. [Same date.]
Good Nature.—Your school-fellow, Lord Pulteney,
set out last week for Holland, and will, I believe,
be at Leipsic soon after this letter. You will
take care to be extremely civil to him, and to do him
any service that you can, while you stay there; let
him know that I wrote you to do so. As being older,
he should know more than you; in that case, take
pains to get up to him; but if he does not, take care
not to let him feel his inferiority. He will find it out
