The discourse we had yesterday, has made a great impression upon me; you said several things that were very entertaining, and some which I shall not easily forget: I do not remember I ever looked into myself so much as I have done since last night after I left you. Cleo. To do that faithfully, is a more difficult and a severer talk than is commonly imagined. When, yesterday, I asked you where and among what sort of people we were to look for those whom you would allow to act from principles of virtue, you named a class, among whom I have found very agreeable characters of men, that yet all have their failings. If these could be left out, and the best were picked and culled from the different good qualities that are to be seen in several, the compound would make a very handsome picture. Hor. To finish it well every way would be a great masterpiece. Cleo. That I shall not attempt: but I do not think it would be very difficult to make a little sketch of it, that yet should exceed nature, and be a better pattern for imitation than any can be shown alive. I have a mind to try; the very thought enlivens me. How charming is the portrait of a complete gentleman, and how ravishing is the figure which a person of great birth and fortune, to whom nature has been no niggard, makes, when he understands the world, and is thoroughly well-bred! Hor. I think them so, I can assure you, whether you are in jest or in earnest. Cleo. How entirely well hid are his greatest imperfections! though money is his idol, and he is covetous in his heart, yet his inward avarice is forced to give way to his outward liberality, and an open generosity shines through all his actions. Hor. There lies your fault: it is this I cannot endure in you. Cleo. What is the matter? Hor. I know what you are about, you are going to give me the caricatura of a gentleman, under pretence of drawing his portrait. Cleo. You wrong me, I have no such thought. Hor. But why is it impossible for human nature ever to be good? instead of leaving out, you put in failings without the least grounds or colour. When things have a handsome appearance every way, what reason have you to suspect them still to be bad? How came you to know, and which way have you discovered imperfections that are entirely well hid; and why should you suppose a person to be covetous in his heart, and that money is his idol, when you own yourself that he never shews it, and that an open generosity shines through all his actions? This is monstrous.