on the metaphor of building: I would wish you to be a Corinthian edifice
upon a Tuscan foundation; the latter having the utmost strength and
solidity to support, and the former all possible ornaments to decorate.
The Tuscan column is coarse, clumsy, and unpleasant; nobody looks at it
twice; the Corinthian fluted column is beautiful and attractive; but
without a solid foundation, can hardly be seen twice, because it must
soon tumble down. Yours affectionately.




LETTER LXXVII

LONDON, August 7, O. S. 1749.

DEAR BOY: By Mr. Harte's letter to me of the 18th July N. S., which I
received by the last post, I am at length informed of the particulars
both of your past distemper, and of your future motions. As to the
former, I am now convinced, and so is Dr. Shaw, that your lungs were only
symptomatically affected; and that the rheumatic tendency is what you are
chiefly now to guard against, but (for greater security) with due
attention still to your lungs, as if they had been, and still were, a
little affected. In either case, a cooling, pectoral regimen is equally
good. By cooling, I mean cooling in its consequences, not cold to the
palate; for nothing is more dangerous than very cold liquors, at the very
time that one longs for them the most; which is, when one is very hot.
Fruit, when full ripe, is very wholesome; but then it must be within
certain bounds as to quantity; for I have known many of my countrymen die
of bloody-fluxes, by indulging in too great a quantity of fruit, in those
countries where, from the goodness and ripeness of it, they thought it