so prodigious must have been attended with very alarming consequences.
For my own part, I tremble when I think of it. Damocles, Nero, and
Richard the Third, would have appeared amiable princes in comparison of
me. Wherever I went I should have carried horror and devastation,
sparing neither sex nor age. All, all should have been sacrificed to my
relentless cruelty. Donaldson is busy printing his second volume. I have
mustered up a few verses for him, some old, some new. I will not boast
of _them_. But I'll tell you one thing; the volume will be pretty free
from typographical errors: I have the honour to correct the
proof-sheets. My Cub is now with Dodsley. I fancy he will soon make his
appearance in public. I long to see him in his Pall-Mall[18] habit:
Though I'm afraid he will look a little awkward. Write to me often. You
shall have the best answers I can give you.

I remain, yours,

JAMES BOSWELL.

[Footnote 18: Dodsley's shop was in Pall Mall.--ED.]

* * * * *

LETTER VII.

New-Tarbat, Nov. 23, 1761.

Dear BOSWELL,--As we never hear that Demosthenes could broil
beef-steaks, or Cicero poach eggs, we may safely conclude, that these
gentlemen understood nothing of cookery. In like manner it may be
concluded, that you, James Boswell, and I Andrew Erskine, cannot write
serious epistles. This, as Mr. Tristram[19] says, I deny; for this
letter of mine shall contain the quintessence of solidity; it shall be a
piece of boiled beef and cabbage, a roasted goose, and a boiled leg of
pork and greens: in one word, it shall contain advice; sage and mature
advice. Oh! James Boswell! take care and don't break your neck; pray
don't fracture your skull, and be very cautious in your manner of
tumbling down precipices: beware of falling into coal-pits, and don't
drown yourself in every pool you meet with. Having thus warned you of
the most material dangers which your youth and inexperience will be
ready to lead you into, I now proceed to others less momentary indeed,
but very necessary to be strictly observed. Go not near the
Soaping-Club, never mention Drury-lane Playhouse; be attentive to those
Pinchbeck buckles which fortune has so graciously given you, of which I
am afraid you're hardly fond enough; never wash your face, but above all
forswear Poetry: from experience I can assure you, and this letter may
serve as a proof, that a man may be as dull in prose as in verse; and as
dullness is what