The characters, or, The manners of the age by Monsieur de la Bruyere ... made English by several hands ; with the characters of Theophrastus, translated from the Greek, and a prefatory discourse to them, by Monsieur de la Bruyere ; to which is added, a key to his Characters.

OF Society and Conversation.

'TIS a silly Character to have none at all.

*'Tis a Fool's part to be troublesome. A Wise man knows when he is agreeable or vexatious, and will not tarry long enough to make any one weary of him.

* Buffoons are a sort of Insects which breed in all Countries; we can scarce step for fear of treading on 'em. A pleasant man is rarely to be met with; and a person tho he is born so, must have a great deal of Delicacy to maintain the character a long time: But com∣monly he that makes one laugh is not sure to be esteem'd.

* There are abundance of obscene, a great many more railing and satyrical Wits, but very few delicate. A Man must have manners and politeness to trifle with a good grace, and a copious fancy to play handsomely on little things, to create matter of raillery, and make something out of nothing.

* If we were to listen with attention to every thing that is said in common Conver∣sation,

we should be asham'd to speak or to hear. We shou'd perhaps condemn our selves to a perpetual silence, which is more injurious to Commerce than unprofitable discourses: we must therefore accommodate our selves to every Mans capacity; we must suffer as ne∣cessary Evils, false News, rambling Reflexi∣ons on the Government, or the Interest of Princes: we must hear with patience the fine notions some men are continually repeating; and permit Aronce to speak Proverbs, and Melinda to talk of herself, her Vapours, Me∣grims, and Want of Rest.

* In the company we keep, we shall often meet with persons who offend us with their ridiculous Jargon, the Novelty and Impro∣priety of their Terms and their quaint Ex∣pressions, which come from no bodys mouth but their own, and were not design'd by the first Inventors to signifie what they use 'em for. They observe neither reason nor cu∣stom, but speak according to their foolish Whimsies, are always fond of Pleasantry, and affect to distinguish themselves by a parti∣cular Cant, which becomes at length their Natural Idiom: They speak in a counterfeit tone, and accompany their words with odd gestures and grimaces. However, they are well contended with themselves, and their Wit, which they imagine very diverting. In∣deed we can't say they are entirely destitute; but we pity 'em for what little Wit they have, and believe if they had none at all, they wou••d be less insufferable.

* Prithee Acis, for the satisfaction of your friends, endeavour to speak as they may un∣derstand you, for my part I do but guess at your meaning: If you would tell 'em 'tis cold, that it rains and snows; say 'tis cold, it rains, and it snows. If you see 'em in good health, and would congratulate 'em upon it, tell 'em they look well: Oh! but say you, that is so plain, and so conspicuous, any one might have said as much. 'Tis true, and what does that signify? besides, what harm is there, Sir, in being intelligible, or speaking like your Neighbours. There is one thing Acis, which you and some Gentlemen of your Complexion want very much; I know I shall surprize you, but there's certainly one thing wanting in you, which is Wit: tho this is not all, there is something too abounding in you, and that is the good opinion you have of your self, above other Men. This is the Fountain of all your pompous fustian, your big words, and your perplext phrases. The next time I find you do so, I shall pluck you by your Sleeve, and tell you in your Ear: Don't fancy you have Wit; 'tis a mi∣stake: your part is inconsistent with it; ra∣ther, if you can, learn some plain unaffected Language, such as those speak who you fan∣cy have no Wit, and then, perhaps, we may think you have some your self.

* Who that keeps much company can pro∣mise himself to avoid meeting certain vain Blockheads, who are light, familiar and posi∣tive. These are the Speaking Men in all

Conversation, and they compel every one else to hear them. They are heard in the Antichamber. They enter without Inter∣ruption: They continue their Tales with∣out any consideration for such as come in, or go out, or for the rank or quality of the peo∣ple who make up the Company. They silence him that dares to begin a piece of News, that they may tell it after thei•• own fashion, which to be sure is the best. They had it of Zamet, Raccelay, or Conchini, whom they name fami∣liarly without their Title, tho they never knew 'em, or spoke to 'em in their Lives: They get themselves up sometimes to the best Man in the Company, to gratify him with some∣thing new, which no body else knows. They whisper it, and for a world will suffer none but him to partake on••t. They hide Names to disguise the Story, and prevent Application. There are some things they must not tell, and some persons whom they cannot name: Their words are engag'd to the contrary, 'tis a mystery, a secret of the last importance. Shou'd you ask it, you wou'd demand an impossibility; for what∣ever you imagine, they are equally ignorant of both persons and actions.

* As we ought not to be backward in speaking, or to abstract our minds from the subject of the conversation we are in, le••t it causes us to ask a great many untimely que∣stions, and return as unseasonable answers; ••o we ought not also to give an over-curious

attention to the least trifles, that are said in company, to improve 'em, to banter 'em, to discover in 'em a mystery which the rest could not perceive, to make 'em subtle and politick, only that we may have an opportu∣nity to shew our own policy and subtilty.

* Some Men think th••y are extraordinary persons, and are fond of their own merit, tho they have indeed but very little, or none at all; he is truly unhappy who is oblig'd to be much in their company; what a parcel of whimsical phrases must he endure? how many bold words, which come out suddenly, live a moment, then dye, and are forgotten. If they tell a piece of News, 'tis meerly for the honour of telling it, and to shew they can come off handsomly. It grows a Romance under their management: they make their men think after their own manner; put their own trivial expressions in their mouths, and they are all like themselves very talkative. They fall at last into Parentheses, which may pass for Epicodes, but that they have no relation to the story; and by this means the Speakers and their Hearers forget what they were about. What a terrible confusion must then attend 'em, shou'd not some body come in luckily to break up the Company, and put an end to the Narration.

* * 1.1 Theodectus is heard in the Anticham∣ber, the nearer he approaches he heightens his voice; he enters, he laughs, he stretches his mouth up to his ears, he makes a noise; he is a meer Thunderer, and no less remark∣able

for what he says, than the tone he speaks with. He is never out of an extream hurry, but to stutter out some of his own follies and vanities. He has so little consideration for the time, the persons, or decency, that each has his share of his Entertainment, tho he gives no attention to what he says. In short, he never sits down be••ore the whole compa∣ny is disoblig'd by his disturbances; and he is ever so well pleas'd with himself, that he cannot perceive it. The Table spread he is the first in his place, and always at the upper end. The Ladies at his right and left, he eats, he drinks, talks, and interrupts; he has no respect for the Master or his Guests; but abuses the toleration they give him. Whoever makes the Feast, he has all the Au∣thority of the Table: and 'tis more conve∣nient to give him his way, than to di∣spute it with him. Eating and drinking add nothing to his Character. If he plays he wins, and banters the unfortunate, till they are offended. The langhable Men are conti∣nually on his side, and there is no sort of fol∣ly which escapes 'em. I must confess I am surfeited with his company, and despair of being able to endure Theodectus above a minute, or those who suffer him.

Troilus is very useful to such as have too much Riches: He eases them of the trouble of their superfluities; and saves 'em the labour of hoarding up Money, making Contracts, locking Coffers, carrying the Keys, or fear∣ing a Domestick Thief. He assists them in

their pleasures, and in time becomes service∣able to 'em in their passions. He is the Ora∣cle of the house, he triumphs in his manage∣ment, he sets every one his task, he hears and decides. He says to this Slave he shall be punish'd, and he is whipt; to another he shall be freed, and he is set at liberty. His Creatures are very demure in his presence, they dare not Laugh for fear of offending him, and then they are dismist: And it goes well with the Master of the House if he leaves him his Wife and Children. If he is at the Table, and says such a dish is excel∣lent, the Master and his Guests govern them∣selves by his Palat, are of his opinion, and fall to heartily. If he says on the contrary of other Meats they are Insipid, whoever were eating it spit it out, and dare not swal∣low it without Troilus approbation. Every Eye is on him, observing his looks and car∣riage, before he pronounces sentence on the Wine or Victuals before him. He seldom stirs out of the Family where he is Director; there he eats, drinks, sleeps and digests, quarrels with the Grooms and Valets, ac∣counts with the Work-men, and sends back the Creditors. He swells and domineers in the Great Hall, receives there the Homages of those Servants who are more subtle than their fellows, and by his mediation alone come at their Master. If a person enters whose mis∣fortune 'tis to have a complexion disagreeable to his humour, he frowns, turns away his Head; if he comes up to him he sits still; if

he sits down, he removes himself farther off; if he talks, he is mute; if he continues to talk, Troilus gets up into his Chamber: if he follows, he makes to the Stair-case, leaps down Stairs, or gets out at a Window, rather than associate with a Man whose face or voice he dislikes. He is himself happy in both, and they serve to insinuate, and win upon such as he has occasion of. Every thing at last is below him, and he scorns to preserve his favour, by the little ways he acquir'd it. He sometimes sallies out of his Meditation and Silence to contradict, and to shew his Wit condescends to be a Critick. Instead of expecting he shou'd hearken to you in his turn, or be complaisant, and commend your Judg∣ment. You are not always sure he will per∣mit your approbation, o•• suffer your com∣placency.

* There is a certain Spark who never fails to be at all Cavalcades, publick Feasts and Sights; he is careful to make himself known and where-ever he stands seldom gives himself the trouble to inquire if the company have heard of him, but presently acquaints them with his Name, his Seat, his Country, his Estate, his Offices, his own and his Mo∣thers Family, his Relations, and the Arms of his House: They must understand that he is Noble, that he has a Castle, fine Furniture, Retinue and a Coach.

Some Men speak before they think, others study heavily on every thing they say; we must stay for these till they are deliver'd of

their Notions, and assist at the Travail of their minds:* 1.2 They invent Phrases and little turns of Expression, conformable to their ge∣sture and carriage. They call themselves Puriets, and will not venture the least word where it has not all the fine effect imaginable; yet nothing comes from them easy or happy: they talk properly perhaps, but they are very tiresome.

* The Wit of conversation consists more in finding it in others than shewing a great deal your self. He who goes out of your com∣pany pleas'd with his own facetiousness and ingenuity, will the sooner come into it again. Most men had rather please than admire you, and seek less to be instructed and diverted, than approv'd and applauded; and 'tis cer∣tainly the most delicate sort of pleasure to please another.

* Too much fancy is not necessary in our conversation or writings; it begets vain and puerile Ideas which tend neither to make us wiser or better. Our thoughts shou'd be produc'd by good sense and right reason, and ought always to be the effect of our judg∣ment.

* 'Tis a sad thing when Men have neither Wit enough to speak well, nor Sense enough to hold their tongues: this is the foundation of all impertinence.

* To speak modestly on a good or bad sub∣ject, and to give the true reason for its being so requires good sense, and a happy expression. 'Tis a much more ready way to pronounce

in the decisive tone, that this thing is execra∣ble or that wonderful.

* There is nothing more displeasing to God or Man, than confirming the least things that are said in common conversation by horrid Oaths and Imprecations. An honest Man, who says Yes or No, deserves sooner to be believed; his reputation swears for him, gets him credit, and draws him all manner of confidence.

* He who says boldly he is a Man of Truth and Honour, that he wrongs no Man, but wishes the Ills he has done others may fall upon himself, and swears that it may be believed; does not know even how to coun∣terfeit an Honest Man.

An honest Man with all his sincerity can∣not hinder some People saying of him, what a dishonest Man cou'd say of himself.

* Cleon talks uncivilly or unjustly, I am sure 'tis one or the other; but he says he can't help it, he was born so, and speaks as he thinks.

* Some men talk well, easily, justly, and to the purpose: those offend in the last kind, who speak of the Banqnets they are to be at, before such as are reduc'd to spare their Bread; of sound Limbs, before the In••irm; of Demesnes and Revenues, before the Poor and Needy; of fine Houses and Furniture, before such as have neither Dwelling or Moveables: in a word, who speak of Prospe∣rity, before the Miserable. This conversa∣tion is too strong for 'em, and the comparison

you make between their condition and yours is odious.

* As for you, says Entiphron, you are rich, or ought to be so, ten thousand Livres a year good Lands: Ah! this is fine, lovely, and you are certainly happy. In the mean time, the person who talks at this rate, has fifty thousand Livres a year Rent, and thinks he has not half what he deserves; he taxes you, prizes you, settles your Expence; and if he judges you worthy of a better fortune, or even what he himself aspires to, he can••t yet forbear coveting what you have. However, he is not the only man that makes such wretched estimations and odious comparisons. The world is full of Entiphrons.

* A pe••son who was naturally a Flatterer, and besides fond of being in the fashion, which obliges us to praise any one who has rais'd himself to Honour and Riches, congratu∣lated Theodemus on a Book which he had not heard of, and no body had yet given it any character to him. The man however still talks of his Genius, his Manner, and above all, the Fidelity of his Memory, till Theodemus was confounded and put to a Nonplus.

* Baevius never speaks, but he offends; his Disposition is sharp and bitter, his Language mingled with Gall and Wormwood: Rail∣ing, Injury, and Insolence, run from his Lips like Spittle. It had been well for him, had he been born stupid or mute; what little quickness and wit he has prejudices him more ••••en another mans dulness. He is not al∣ways

satisfy'd with giving sharp answers, he attacks frequently with arrogance. He strikes whenever he speaks, and wounds the present and absent, at least in their Reputations. He bristles his forehead, and runs at all like a Ram: And since Impudence is as natural to him, as Horns to a Ram, why should we hope by this Picture to reform a Sot, so rough, wild, and untractable. We had better, as soon as we see him afar of, run from him with all our might, without looking behind us.

* I know a Man of such a Make and Cha∣racter, that some People shou'd be careful how they trust themselves with him: they must complain of him as little as possible, and against him 'tis not permitted for 'em to hope for Justice.

* When two persons have had a violent quarrel, one with reason, the other with none; 'tis the custom of the Arbitrators, who are to make up the difference, to condemn both, either fearing to make a perfect deci∣sion on one side, or out of a temperament, which methinks is very ill plac'd: But they observe this Lesson, that 'tis good to get from the weak party as far as possible, lest they should partake with him in his wrongs.

* I hate a man who will not let me accost him,* 1.3 nor salute him, before he salutes me, without growing less in his esteem, or par∣taking in the good opinion he has of himself. Montaign would have said,

I will have El∣bow-room: I will be courteous and affable,

according to my fancy, without fear or remorse. I can't strive against my inclina∣tions, nor go contrary to my humour, which leads me to address my self to every one that makes towards me, if he is my Equal, and not my Enemy, I anticipate his Re∣ception, I question him of his Health and Disposition, I offer him my Service with∣out any more ado, or trading and haggling for them, like some People who set a price on their Favours. He displeases me, who by his Customs or Whimsies would rob me of this Freedom and Liberty. I remember him assoon as I see him afar off settling a grave and important countenance; and if I may make a comparison, putting me in mind of my own good qualities and condi∣tions, and his bad ones; I am too much put to it to deal with such a person, I am not fit for such a stiff and unlookt for a re∣spect; I hate Ceremony, tho for the first time I may allow it, yet at the second I will take care to prevent him, since I can't put a force on my self, nor be constrain'd to be proud for any man.

* A man may have vertue, capacity, and good conduct, and yet be insupportable. Manners, which we neglect as little things, are frequently what the world judge us by, and decide for or against us. A little ma∣nagement, to be obliging and polite before men, will prevent their bad judgments, but we must on no account be proud, uncivil, disdainful, and disobliging; and we ought

less to be the contrary, if we wou'd be esteem'd.

* Politeness does not always inspire Gene∣rosity, Equity, Complaisance, and Grati∣tude: it gives a man the appearances of those Vertues, and makes him seem that without, which he ought to be within.

* We may de••ine Politeness, tho we can't tell where to fix it in practice. It observes receiv••d Uses and Customs, 'tis bound to times and places, and is not the same thing in the two Sexes, or in different conditions. Wit alone cannot attain it: ••tis acquir••d and compleated by Imitation. Some Dispositions are only Susceptive of Politeness. Others make use of great Talents and solid Vertue•• 'Tis true Politeness puts Merit forward, and renders it agreeable; and a man must have eminent qualifications to support himself without it.

The Politeness of the Mind is a certain care to make us pleasing by our discourses and manners to our selves and others.

* He offends against Politeness, who praises another Singing and Playing on the Musick; before such as he has oblig'd to Sing or Play for his Diversion; or to commend another Poet, in presence of one who reads him his Verses.

* In all the Feasts and Entertainments we give, in all the Presents we make, in all the Pleasures we procure for others, there is a way of doing it well, and of doing it acco••d∣ing to their inclinations; the last is the best method.

* 'Tis rude to refuse indifferently all sorts of Praises: We ought to be sensible of those which come from good men; who praise sin∣cerely those things in us which are really commendable.

* A Man of Wit, who is born proud, loses nothing of his pride or stiffness for being poor; on the contrary, if any thing will soften him and render him more sweet and sociable, 'tis a little Prosperity.

* We must bear with some peoples bad Characters, as we do with bad Money, for the benefit of Commerce.

* To live with those Men, who are con∣tinually embroyl'd, and make you hear reci∣procally the complaints of each side, is like living in a Court of Justice, and being oblig'd from morning to night to hear Pleadings and Declarations.

* 1.4* Two Men liv'd in a strict union, their goods were in common, they had but one dwelling, and were never out of one ano∣thers presence: After fourscore years they saw 'twas time to part, and finish their socie∣ty; they had then but one day to live, and durst not attempt passing it together, they were in haste to break before death, and had not complacence enough to last till that hour. They liv'd too long for a good Exam∣ple; a moment sooner they had dy'd good friends, and left behind them a rare model of perseverance in Friendship.

* Families are within often disturb'd by mistrusts, jealousies and antipathy, while

without they seem content, peaceable and pleasant; and we suppose they enjoy a quiet, which they seldom possess: There being ve∣ry few who cou'd bear an Examination. The visit you make may give a cessation to the domestick quarrel, but your absence re∣vives it.

* In all Society Reason yields first, and the Wise man is led by the most foolish and capricious: He studies their tempers and weakness, and accommodates himself to their whimseys: He avoids running against them as much as possible, and gives 'em their way, that he may not be always insupportable. When they are the least chearful, he com∣mends their good humour, and to make him∣self easie, fears, manages, obeys, and some∣times loves them.

* Cleantes is a very worthy Person, he chose a Wife who is the best and the most reasona∣ble Woman in the World: They both in their several parts made all the pleasure and agreeableness of the Company they kept: One cou'd seldom meet more Polit••ness or greater Probity. They parted on the sud∣den, and the Deed of their Separation was presently drawn up at the Notaries. There are, in short, some certain Incompatible Ver∣tues and Merits, which are not made to be together.

* A Man may be sure in his accounts of the Portion, Joynture and Settlement, but is very uncertain as to the Wives disposition, how she has been bred, and in what manner

she will live with him: they depend upon the frail agreement between the Mother-in-law and the Daughter-in-law, and he is of∣ten deceived in it the first year of his Mar∣riage.

* A Father-in-law loves his Daughter-in-law, a Mother-in-law her Son-in-law, so both are reciprocal.

* A Cruel Step-mother hates her Husbands Children, and the more she loves her Husband, the more she hates them.

* Step-mothers have made whole Towns and Villages desert, and peopled the Country of Beggars, Vagabonds, Servants and Slaves, more than Poverty.

* 1.5* G. and H. are Neighbours, their Lands are contiguous, they inhabit a desart and so∣litary Country, far from Towns or Com∣merce: Methinks Solitude and the love Men have for Society, should force 'em to a mutual correspondence: But they are perpetually at variance, and 'tis hard to express the trifle that causes the difference which renders 'em implacable, and continues their hatred in their descendants. Relations nor even Brothers never differ'd about a thing of less moment.

Suppose there were but two men on the whole Earth, who possest it entirely to them∣selves, and parted it between them, I am perswaded there would be quickly some cause of rupture created, tho it were only for the limits of their Divisions.

* 'Tis commonly easier to make peace amongst other men, than to keep it ourselves.

* I am now approaching a little Town, I am already on an ascent where I discover it seated in a pleasant Valley, 'tis shaded by Woods and Hills, which cover it from cold Blasts and Northern Winds; I see it in so fair a day, that I view its Tower, Steeple and Turrets; it seems on the declension of a Hill, and has a fine River running through it into lovely Meadows; I am so pleas'd with the prospect that I burst forth into this Exclama∣tion, How pleasant must it be to live under so clear a Sky in so delicious an Abode: I de∣scend into the Town, and have not lain there above two or three nights, associating with the Inhabitants, before I long to get out of it.

* There is a certain thing which never was seen under the Heavens, and in all likeli∣hood never will be. 'Tis a little City with∣out Faction and Parties, where the Families are united; The Relations see one another with confidence; Where a Marriage does not raise a Civil War; Where there are not every moment Disputes and Quarrels about Prece∣dency; Where Lying, Scolding, Prating, and Gossiping, are banisht; Where the Mayor and the Sheriffs, the Assessors and the People have a good Understanding; Where the Bishop lives well with the Dean, the Dean with the Cannons, The Cannons with the Parsons, and the Parsons with their Clerks.

* Countrymen and Fools are apt to be an∣gry, and fancy you despise 'em if you are

the least merry at their imperfections. You must never venture the most innocent and in offensive Rai••lery or Pleasantry, unless it be amongst polite Men, and Men of Wit.

* Merit discerns and finds it self out recipro∣cally: he that would be esteem'd must converse with persons who are themselves esteem∣able.

* He who thinks he is by his dignity above a Jest, and will not take a Repartee, ought not to give one.

* We are not angry at being rallied for some little defects, and we should make choice of faults of the same kind when we rally others.

* 'Tis the Blockheads priviledge to laugh at a Man of Wit, but he is in the World, what the Fool is at Court: of no conse∣quence.

* Buffoonry is an Indigence of Wit.

* You believe a Man your Bubble when he feigns himself to be so, who then is the great∣est Bubble, He or You?

* Observ•• those People who never com∣mend any o••e, are always railing, are con∣••ent with no body, and you will find them persons with whom no body is content.

* The P••oud and Disdainful will find the contrary of what they expect, if by their Carriage they look for Esteem.

* The pleasure of Society amongst Friends is cultivated by a likeness of Inclinations, as to Manners; and a difference in Opinion, as to Sciences: the one confirms and humours

us in our sentiments; the o••h••r exercises and instructs us by disputation.

* Two persons will not be friends a long time, if they can••t forgive each other little failings.

* How many fine unprofitable reasons are laid before one in great Adversity to put him into a state of Tranquility. Outward things, which we call Events, are sometimes too strong for Reason o•• Nature. Eat, Drink, don't kill your self with Melancholy, are in∣significant admonitions, which are ••mpossible to be put in practice when a Man is master'd by his Sorrows. Are you a ••••se man to put your self to such trouble? Is it not to say, Are you not a Fool to be unfortunate?

* There are some necessary coun••els which are frequently hurtful to those w••o give them•• and unprofitable to the persons they are addrest to. You observe perhaps defects in Manners, which are either not confest, or esteem'd as Vertues. You blot out a passage in an Author's Writings which pleases him most, where he thought he surpast himself, and by this means you lose the confide••ce of your friends, without maki••g them better or more ingenious.

* Not long since certain persons of both Sexes leagued themselves together for Con∣versation and Witty Commerce. They left talking intelligibly to the vulgar: a thing said amongst them with a little clearness, d••ew af∣ter it another more obscure•• which they en∣richt with bad Enigma'••, and cr••wn'd with

long Applauses. What they call'd delicacy, thought, turn, and fine expression, was a faculty they had to be unintelligible to others and themselves. Good sense, judgment, me∣mory, or the least capacity was not necessary to furnish out their discourse, some wit was proper, tho not the best sort, but that which is false, where fancy has too great a share.

* I know Theobaldus you are old, but would you have me think you decline? That you are no longer a Wit or a Lover, or as bad a Critick in all kind of Writings•• as you are an Author? That you have nothing new, easy, natural and delicate in your Conversation? No, Sir, your free and arrogant Mien per∣swade and assure me of the contrary. You are the ••ame to day as you were fifty years ago, and perhaps better; for if you are so furious and lively at this Age, how could you be more brisk and airy in your Yo••••••? You who at these years infatuate the 〈◊〉〈◊〉•• ••nd make 'em of your Party? Wh•• can prevail on 'em to swear on•••• for y••u, and upon your Credit, that as of••en as you speak they presently cry out. That'•• delicate, What did he say?

* We frequently talk hastily in Company through Vanity and Humour, rarely with the necessary Caution. Every one is desirous to reply, before he has heard out the Questi∣on demanded of him; he then follows his own Notions, and explains 'em without the least Regard for another Man's Reasons. We are far from finding the Truth while we are not agreed upon what 'tis we seek after.

Could a Man hear and write down these Conversations, he would see a great many good things spoken with little Consideration, and no Coherency.

* There was a sort of silly Puerile Conver∣sation lately in fashion, which turn'd all on trivial Questions concerning Tenderness and Passion: The reading of Romances first intro∣duced it amongst the Well-bred People in Town and Court. But it was there soon dis∣carded, and the Citizens now entertain it with their Puns, Points, and Quibbles.

* Some City-Ladies are so nice, that they will by no means learn or speak the Names of Streets Lanes, or publick Places, which they fancy are not noble enough to be known. They say nothing plainly but the Court and the Palace. They use Terms and Phrases for what is below it, and make a whole Sentence of Cheapside; or if by chance they let such a word slip, they will excuse it so well, that it renders it the less criminal. In this they are much more unnatural than the Court-Ladies, who having occasion to speak of the Exchange or Guildhall, say the Exchange and Guildhall, without being afraid of Prejudice or Scan∣dal.

* If we pretend sometimes to forget cer∣tain Names which we think obscure, and break 'em in their Pronunciation, 'tis through the good opinion we have of ••ur own.

* You speak often in a good Humour, or the Liberty of Conversation several silly things which you deliver as such, and recom∣mend

only for their extream Ridiculousness•• This is mean Pleasantry: It belongs to the People, and was derived from 'em by the Youth of the Court, whom it begins to infect; but we need not fear 'twill go very far there; 'tis too rude and insipid a Diversion to make any Progress in a Country which is the Cen∣ter of Politeness and good Sense. However, it should be expos'd as much as possible, and rendred odious to those who practice it; for though they are never serious when they speak it, yet it accustoms them to remember Trifles, and withholds their Minds from some∣thing better, and more decent.

* Between Speaking bad things, and such good things which every Body knows; and yet some People would put off for new, there is so little Difference that 'tis difficult which to prefer.

* Lucan has said a pretty thing, There's a fine Expression in Claudian, such a place may be found in Seneca. Thus you are continually quoting Latin to Men, who though they pretend to understand it, are ignorant of every word you cite. The Secret lies in having a great deal of Wit and good Sense, that after you have read the Antients with care, and have enough of them, you may distinguish the good places from the bad; make choice of the best, and quote nothing but what is to the purpose••

* Hermagoras knows not who is King of Hungary, and wonders to hear any one talk of the King of Bohemia. You must not say a word to him of the Wars in Holland or Flan∣ders,

at least you must excuse him from an∣swering the Questions you ask concerning them. He knows not when they began or ended, Battles and Sieges are all new to him. But he is very well inform••d of the Giants Wars, he can relate 'em to the least Circumstances, and omits not the least particular. He dis∣perses as easily the horrid Chaos of the Baby∣lonian and Assyrian Monarchies. He is ac∣quainted with the Original of the Egyptians and their Dynasties. He never saw Versailles, and never will see it; but he has almost seen the Tower of Babel, he has counted the Steps, he has found out how many Artificers were employed about that Building, and if requir'd can call 'em over by their Names. Does he be∣lieve Henry IV. the Son of Henry the III? 'Tis no matter: He neglects to inform himself of the Houses of France and Austria: He can however recite from his Memory the List of the Kings of Medea and Babylon, with the Names of Apronal, Herigebal, Noesnemordach, Mardakemdad; which are as familiar to him, as those of Valois and Bourbon are to us. He is to learn if the Emperor be married; but no body can teach him that Ninus had two Wives. You say the King is in good health; he re∣members then that Thetmosis a King of Egypt, was healthy, and that he deriv••d his good Complexion from his Grand-father Aliphar Matosis. What does he not know? Is there any thing in all Venerable Antiquity hid from him? He assures you Semiramis, or as some will have Serimaris, talk'd so much like her

Son Ninyas, that they were not to be distin∣guished by their Voices. But he dares not decide if it were, because the Mother had so manly a Tone as her Son, or the Son so effeminate a Voice as his Mother. He re∣veals that Nimbrot was left-handed, and Se∣sostris ambidextre: That 'tis an Error to ima∣gine one of the Artaxerxes was call'd Longema∣nus, because his Arms reach'd down to his Knees, only that one of his Hands was lon∣ger than the other. He adds, there are some grave Authors who affirm 'twas his right Arm: But he believes he may with good ground maintain, that 'twas his left.

* Profound Ignorance makes a Man dog∣matick. If he knows nothing, he thinks he can teach others what he is to learn himself: Whilst he who knows a great deal, can scarce imagine any one should be unacquainted with what he says, and speaks for this reason with more Modesty.

* Great things should be spoken simply, they are spoil'd by Emphasis; Little things must be said nobly, they can't be supported without the Expression, Tone, and Manner of Delivery.

* We speak things generally more wittily than we write them.

* An honourable Birth, and a good Educa∣tion, are not little helps to render a Man ca∣pable of keeping a Secret.

* All Trust is dangerous if 'tis not entire; we ought on most occasions to speak all, or conceal all. We shall presently tell him too

much from whom we thnk it convenient to hide the least Circumstance.

* Nicander entertained Elisa on the sweet and complaisant manner he lived in with his Wife, from the day of their Marriage to the hour of her Death. He said before, he was sorry he had no Children by her, and now he repeats it. He talks one while of his Houses in Town, at another of his Lands in the Country; he calculates the Revenue they bring him in; he lays down the Plan of his Buildings, he describes the Situation of his Seat; he amplifies on the Conveniency of the Apartments, as well as the Richness and Neatness of the Furniture. He assures her he loves Good Chear and fine Equipages, and complains that his late Wife was too much averse to Play and Society. You are so rich, says one of his Friends who is plac••d for the purpose, why don't you buy such an Office, or make such an Addition to your Income? Oh! Lord, Sir, replies Nicander, indeed you believe me richer than I am. In the mean time, he forgets not to talk of his Extraction and Matches: Mr. Treasurer is my Covsin, the Chancellors Lady is my near Kinswoman. This is commonly his Stile. He tells her afterwards how he became discontented with his nearest Relations, and offended with his Heirs. Ah Elisa, saye he, am I not wronged? Have I any great reason to do well for them? and he de∣sires her to be the Umpire. He then insi∣nuates that he is in a feeble and languishing state of Health, and speaks of the Vault

where he will be interred. He fawns, flat∣ters, and is very officious to all those who have any Interest on the Lady he courts. But Elisa had not Courage enough to grow rich at the price of being his Wife. She de∣clares her self the minute he talks to her, in favour of a Gentleman; who with his Pre∣sence alone dismounts the Batteries raised by this Citizen; he gets up melancholly and dis∣appointed, and is now saying the same things somewhere else, which he said to Elisa.

* Wise men sometimes avoid the World, that they may not be surfeited with it.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Mr. D'au∣biguy.
• * 1.2

  A sort of people who a••fec∣ted to be extream nice in their Lan∣guage.
• * 1.3

  Written in imitation of Montag••.
• * 1.4

  Monsieur St. Martin and Mr. Rombus.
• * 1.5

  Messieurs Gedias and Harvey.