basin of water by his side, in which he dipped a towel and cleansed his feet with the utmost exactness.
In company, he neither wrapped himself up in his own importance, without deigning to communicate his knowledge, or exert his wit; nor did he engross the conversation by perpetual and overbearing loquacity. His general rule was, never to speak more than a minute at a time, and then to wait at least as long for others to take up the conversation; after which he had a right to speak again. His colloquial style, like that of his writings, was clear, forcible, and concise. He also excelled greatly in telling a story; and though in the latter part of his life he was apt to repeat his stories too often, yet his wit, as well as his virtue, was always superiour to the wretched expedients of those despicable babblers, who are perpetually attempting to put off double entendre and profaneness, for humour and wit. His conversation was in the highest degree chaste, and wholly free from the least tincture of irreligion. As he was zealous to preserve all the delicacies of conversation, he was always best pleased when some of the company were ladies; and in his letter to lord Oxford, he says, "since women have been left out of all our meetings, except parties of play, or where worse designs are carried on, our conversation has very much degenerated." And in this instance, his example is a reproof to those pedants, who suppose that women are never in their proper sphere, but in the dressingroom or nursery.
The custom of Dublin in his time was, that the ladies should withdraw immediately after the first glass had gone round; but he never permitted this either when he had parties at home, or was invited
