your letters which did not charm me. But, to speak sincerely, John's letter pleased me most, because it was longer than the others, and because he appeared to have written it with more study and pains. For he has not only prettily described, and neatly expressed whatever he says, but, with much pleasantry and not a little shrewdness, retorts my jests; yet so temperately, as well as agreeably, does he manage his repartees, that he shews he never forgets it is his father to whom he writes; and whom he fears to offend, even while he studies to amuse him. Now I expect a letter from each of you almost every day that I am absent. Neither will I have any such excuse as the shortness of time, the hasty departure of the messenger, the want of any thing to say-excuses which John never makes. For nobody prevents you from writing; and as for the messenger, may not you be beforehand with him, by having your letters always written and sealed to wait any opportunity? But as for the want of matter, how can that take place when you write to me? To me, who am gratified to hear either of your studies or your amusements; who shall be pleased to hear you inform ine at great length, that you have nothing at all to say; which certainly must be a very easy task, especially for women, who are said always to be most fluent upon nothing. This, however, let me impress upon your remembrance; that whether you write of serious subjects or of the merest trifles, you always write with care and attention. Nor will it be amiss if you should first write all your letters in English, which you will afterwards translate much more successfully, and with much less fatigue, into Latin while the mind is free from the labour of invention, and solely occupied with the expression. But while I leave this to your own judgments, I enjoin you by all means to examine what you write with great care, before you make out a fair copy:

consider the sentences first in the order in which they are placed, and then attend minutely to their several parts. By this means you will easily discover any improper expression into which you may have fallen; and even after you have corrected it and written out a fair сору, do not account it irksome still to examine it again. For in copying over, we are apt to fall into errors which we had already noticed and corrected. By this diligence your trifles will in a short time be of importance. For as there is nothing so witty and pointed as that it may not be rendered insipid by a stupid and awkward mode of expression, so there is nothing so silly in itself, as that it may not, by skilful management, acquire a pleasant and graceful

turn.

17. Admiral Lord Collingwood to his Daughter.

Ocean, at Malta,

Feb. 5, 1809.

I RECEIVED your letter, my dearest child; and it made me very happy to find that you and dear Mary were well, and taking pains with your education. The greatest pleasure I have amidst my toils and troubles is, in the expectation which I entertain of finding you improved in knowledge, and that the understanding which it hath pleased God to give you both, has been cultivated with care and assiduity. Your future happiness and respectability in the world depend on the diligence with which you apply to the attainment of knowledge at this period of your life; and I hope that no negligence of your own will be a bar to your progress. When I write to you, my beloved child, so much interested am I that you should be amiable, and worthy of the friendship and esteem of good and wise people, that

I cannot forbear to second and enforce the instruction which you receive, by admonition of my own, pointing out to you the great advantages that will result from a temperate conduct and sweetness of manner, to all people, on all occasions. It does not follow that you are to coincide and agree in opinion with every ill-judging person; but, after shewing them your reason for dissenting from their opinion, your argument and opposition to it should not be tinctured with any thing offensive. Never forget for one moment that you are a gentlewoman, and all words and all your actions should mark you gentle. I never knew your mother-your dear, your good mother-say a harsh or a hasty thing to any person in my life. Endeavour to imitate her. I am quick and hasty in my temper; my sensibility is touched sometimes with a trifle, and my expression of it sudden as gunpowder; but, my darling, it is a misfortune, which not having been sufficiently restrained in my youth, has caused me much pain. It has indeed given me more pain to subdue this natural impetuosity than any thing I ever undertook. I believe that you are both mild; but if ever you feel in your little breasts that you inherit a particle of your father's infirmity, restrain it, and quit the subject that has caused it, until your serenity be recovered. So much for mind and manners; next for accomplishments.

No sportsman ever hits a partridge without aiming at it; and skill is acquired by repeated attempts. It is the same thing in every art; unless you aim at perfection, you will never attain it; but frequent attempts will make it easy. Never, therefore, do any thing with indifference; whether it be to mend a rent in your garment, or to finish the most delicate piece of art, endeavour to do it as perfectly as it is possible. When you write a letter,

give it your greatest care, that it may be as perfect in all its parts as you can make it. Let the subject be sense, expressed in the most plain, intelligible, and elegant manner, that you are capable of. If in a familiar epistle you should be playful and jocular, guard carefully that your wit be not sharp, so as to give pain to any person; and before you write a sentence, examine it, even the words of which it is composed, that there be nothing vulgar or inelegant in them. Remember, my dear, that your letter is the picture of your brains; and those whose brains are a compound of folly, nonsense, and impertinence, are to blame to exhibit them to the contempt of the world, or the pity of their friends. To write a letter with negligence, without proper stops, with crooked lines, and great flourishing dashes, is inelegant; it argues either great ignorance of what is proper, or great ignorance towards the person to whom it is addressed, and is consequently disrespectful. It makes no amends to add an apology, for having scrawled a sheet of paper, of bad pens, for you should mend them; or want of time, for nothing is more important to you, or to which your time can be more properly devoted. I think I can know the character of a lady pretty nearly by her handwriting The dashers are all impudent, however they may conceal it from themselves or others; and the scribblers flatter themselves with a vain hope, that, as their letter cannot be read, it may be mistaken for sense. I am very anxious to come to England, for I have lately been unwell. The greatest happiness which I expect there is, to find that my dear girls have been assiduous in their learning. May God Almighty bless you, my beloved little Sarah, and sweet Mary too.

18. Admiral Lord Collingwood to Lady Collingwood. Ocean, June 16, 1806.

THIS day, my love, is the anniversary of our marriage; and I wish you many happy returns of it. If ever we have peace, I hope to spend my latter days amid my family, which is the only sort of happiness I can enjoy. After this life of labour to retire to peace and quietness, is all I look for in the world. Should we decide to change the place of our dwelling, our route would, of course, be to the southward of Morpeth; but then I should be for ever regretting those beautiful views, which are nowhere to be exceeded, and even the rattling of that old waggon that used to pass our door at six o'clock in a winter's morning had its charms. The fact is, whenever I think how I am to be happy again, my thoughts carry me back to Morpeth, where, out of the fuss and parade of the world, surrounded by those I loved most dearly, and who loved me, I enjoyed as much happiness as my nature is capable of. Many things that I see in the world give me a distaste to the finery of it. The great knaves are not like those poor unfortunates, who, driven perhaps to distress from accidents which they could not prevent, or at least not educated in principles of honour and honesty, are hanged for some little thievery: while a knave of education and high breeding, who brandishes his honour in the eyes of the world, would rob a state to its ruin. For the first I feel pity and compassion; for the latter abhorrence and contempt— they are the tenfold vicious.

Have you read-but, what I am more interested about, is your sister with you? and is she well and happy? Tell her-God bless her!-I wish I were with you, that we might have a good laugh. God bless