"stand the game better than I, but you "are a little inattentive;" or, r you "play too faft;" or, " you had the best "of the game, but fomething happened "to divert your thoughts, and that ❝ turned it in my favour."

Seventhly, If you are a spectator while others play, obferve the most perfect filence. For if you give advice, you offend both parties; him against whom you give it, because it may cause the lofs of his game; him in whose fayour you give it, becaufe, though it be good, and he follows it, he lofes the pleasure he might have had, if you had permitted him to think until it had occurred to himself. Even after a move, or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, how how it might have been placed better for that difpleafes, and may occafion difputes and doubts about their true fituation. All talking to the players leffens or diverts their attention, and is

is therefore unpleafing. Nor fhould you give the least hint to either party, by any kind of noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be a spectator. If you have a mind to exercife or fhew your judgment, do it in playing your own game, when you have an opportunity, not in criticifing, or meddling with, or counselling the play of others.

Laftly, If the game is not to be played rigorously, according to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your defire of victory over your adverfary, and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage offered by his unfkilfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly, that by fuch a move he places or leaves a piece in danger and unfupported; that by another he will put his king in a perilous fituation, &c. By this generous civility (fo oppofite to the unfairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, hap

pen

pen to lose the game to your opponent, but you will win what is better, his esteem, his refpect, and his affection; together with the filent approbation and good-will of impartial spectators.

THE

THE

THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS.

INSCRIBED TO MISS ***,

Being written at her request.

As a great part of our life is spent in fleep, during which we have fometimes pleafing, and fometimes painful dreams, it becomes of fome confequence to obtain the one kind, and avoid the other; for, whether real or imaginary, pain is pain, and pleasure is pleasure. If we can fleep without dreaming, it is well that painful dreams are avoided. If, while we fleep, we can have any pleasing dreams

dreams, it is, as the French lay, tant gagné, fo much added to the pleasure of life.

To this end it is, in the first place, neceffary to be careful in preferving health, by due exercise, and great temperance; for, in sickness, the ima gination is difturbed; and disagreeable, fometimes terrible, ideas are apt to present themselves. Exercise fhould precede meals, not immediately follow them the first promotes, the latter, unless moderate, obftructs digef tion. If, after exercise, we feed fparingly, the digeftion will be eafy and good, the body lightsome, the temper cheerful, and all the animal functions performed agreeably. Sleep, when it follows, will be natural and undisturbed. While indolence, with full feeding, occafion nightmares and horrors inexpreffible: we fall from precipices, are affaulted by wild beafts, murderers, and demons, and experience