Principles of politeness, and of knowing the world; by the late Lord Chesterfield. ; Methodised and digested under distinct heads, with additions, by the Rev. Dr. John Trusler: ; containing: every instruction necessary to complete the gentleman and man of fashion, to teach him a knowledge of life, and make him well received in all companies. ; For the improvement of youth; yet not beneath the attention of any.

PRINCIPLES OF POLITENESS, &c. ADDRESSED TO EVERY YOUNG GFNTLEMAN.

AS all young men, on their first outset in life are in want of some experience and friendly hand to bring them forwards and reach them a knowledge of the world; I think I cannot do the rising generation a greater service, than by directing the young ma••••'s steps, and teaching him how to make his way among the crowd. I will suppose him already instructed in the principles of religion and necessity of moral vi••t••es, (for without these he must be most unhappy) of course shall in a

series of chapters, point out, under distinct heads, the qualifications neces∣sary to make him well received in the world, without which he cannot expect to bear his part in life, agreeable to his own wishes, or the duty he owes to society; and as modesty is the basis of a proper reception, I shall begin with that.

MODESTY.

MODESTY is a polite accom∣plishment, and generally an attendant upon merit: It is engag∣ing to the highest degree, and wins the heart of all our acquaintance. On the contrary none are more disgust∣ful in company than the impudent and presuming.

The man who is, on all occasions, commending and speaking well of himself, we naturally dislike. On the other hand, he who studies to conceal his own deserts, who does justice to the merit of others, who talks but

little of himself, and that with mo∣desty, makes a favourable impression on the persons he is conversing with, captivates their minds, and gains their esteem.

Modesty, however, widely differs from an aukward bashfulness, which is as much to be condemned as the other is to be applauded. To appear simple is as ill-bred as to be impu∣dent. A young man ought to be able to come into a room and adress the company without the least embarass∣ment. To be out of countenance when spoken to, and not to have an answer ready is ridiculous to the last degree.

An aukward country fellow, when he comes into company better than himself, is exceedingly disconcerted. He knows not what to do with his hands, or his hat, but either puts one of them in his pocket, and dangles the other by his side; or perhaps twirls his hat on his fingers, or fumbles with

the button. If spoken to, he is in a much worse situation, he answers with the utmost difficulty and nearly stam∣mers: whereas a gentleman who is acquainted with life, enters a room with gracefulness and a modest assur∣ance, addresses even persons he does not know, in an easy and natural manner, and without the least em∣barrassment. This is the characteris∣tic of good breeding, a very necessa∣ry knowledge in our intercourse with men; for one of inferior parts, with the behaviour of a gentleman, is fre∣quently better received than a man of sense with the address and manners of a clown.

Ignorance and vice are the only things we need be ashamed of; steer clear of these, and you may go into any company you will; not that I would have a young man throw of all dread of appearing abroad, as a fear of offending, or being disesteemed, will make him preserve a proper de∣corum.

Some persons, from ex∣periencing the inconveniencies of false modesty, have run into the other extreme, and acquired the character of impudent. This is as great a fault as the other. A well-bred man keeps himself within the two, and steers the middle way. He is easy and firm in every company, is modest, but not bashful, steady but not im∣pudent. He copies the manners of the better people, and conforms to their customs with ease and attention.

Till we can present ourselves in all companies with coolness and uncon∣cern, we can never present ourselves well; nor will a man ever be suppos∣ed to have kept good company, or ever be acceptable in such com∣pany, if he cannot appear there easy ••embarrassed. A modest assurance, ••n every part of life, is the most ad∣vantageous qualification we can pos∣sibly acquire.

Instead of becoming insolent, a

man of sense under a consciousness of merit, is more modest. He behave himself with firmness, but without the least presumption. The man who is ignorant of his own merit is no less a fool than he who is constantly dis∣playing it. A man of understanding avails himself of his abilities, but ne∣ver boasts of them; whereas the ti∣mid and bashful can never push him∣self in life, but will be always kept behind by the forward and bustling. A man of abilities, and acquainte•• with life will stand as firm in defen•• of his own rights, and pursue h•• plans as steadily and unmoved, as th•• most impudent man alive; but the•• he does it with a seeming modesty. Thus manner is every thing; wh•• is impudence in one, is proper assur∣ance only in another; for firmne•• is commendable, but an overbeari•• conduct is disgustful.

Forwardness being the very reve•• of modesty, follow rather than le••

the company, that is, join in discourse upon subjects rather than start one of your own; if you have parts, you will have opportunities enough of shewing them on every topic of con∣versation, and if you have none, it is better to expose yourself upon a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 subject of other people's than one of your own.

But, be particularly careful not to peak of yourself if you can help it. An impudent fellow lugs in himself aruptly upon all occasions, and is ••ver the hero of his own story. O∣••ers will colour their arrogance with, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 It may seem strange, indeed, that I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should talk in this manner of my∣self; it is what I by no means like, and should never do, if I had not been cruelly and unjustly accused; but when my character is attacked, it is a justice I owe to myself, to defend it." This veil is too thin ••t to be seen through on the first spection.

Others again with more art, will mo∣destly boast of all the principal virtue•• by calling these virtues weaknesse•• and saying they are so unfortunate as to fall into weaknesses.

I cannot see persons suffer,

says one of this cast

without relieving them; though my circumstances are very unable t•• afford it.

—I cannot avoid speak∣ing truth, though it is often very imprudent,

and so on.

This angling for praise is so prevail∣ing a principle, that it frequently stoops to the lowest objects. Me•• will often boast of doing that, which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 true, would be rather a disgrace to to them than otherwise. One man affirms that he rode twenty miles with∣in the hour; 'tis probably a lie; but suppose he did, what then? He ha•• a good horse under him, and is a good jockey. Another swears he has often at a sitting, drank five or six bottle to his own share. Out of respect t•• him, I will believe him a liar, for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would not wish to think him a beast.

These and many more are the fol∣lies of idle people, which, while they think they procure them esteem, in reality make them despised.

To avoid this contempt, therefore, never speak of yourself at all, unless necessity obliges you; and even then, take care to do it in such a manner, that it may not be construed into fishing for applause. Whatever perfec∣tions you may have, be assured, peo∣ple will find them out; but whether they do or not, nobody will take them upon your own word. The less you say of yourself, the more the world will give you credit for; and the more you say the less they will believe you.

LYING.

OF all the vices, there is no one more criminal, more mean, and more ridiculous, than lying. The end we design by it is very seldom accom∣plished, for lies are always found out, ••t one time or other; and yet there are

persons who give way to this vice, who are otherwise of good principles, and have not been ill educated.

Lies generally proceed from vanity, cowardice, and a revengeful dispositi∣on, and sometimes from a mistaken notion of self-defence.

He who tells a malicious lie, with a view of injuring the person he speaks of, may gratify his wish for a while, but will, in the end, find it recoil upon himself; for, as soon as he is detected, (and detected he most cer∣tainly will be) he is despised for the infamous attempt, and whatever he may say hereafter of that person, will be considered as false, whether it be so or not.

If a man lies, shuffles or equivo∣cates, for, in fact, they are all alike, by way of excuse for any thing he has said or done, he aggravates the of∣fence rather than lessens it; for the person to whom the lie is told has a right to know the truth, or there

would have been no occasion to have framed a falsehood. This person, of course, will think himself ill treated for being a second time affronted; for what can be a greater affront than an attempt to impose upon any man's understanding? Besides, lying, in excuse for a fault, betrays fear than which nothing is more dastardly, and unbecoming the character of a gentle∣man.

There is nothing more manly, or more noble, if we have done wrong, than frankly to own it. It is the only way of meeting forgiveness. Indeed, confessing a fault and asking pardon, with great minds, is considered as a sufficient atonement.

I have been betrayed into an error,

or,

I have injured you, Sir, and am heartily ashamed of it, and forty for it,

has frequently disarmed the per∣son injured, and where he would have been ou•• ••••••••y, has ••••••e him our friend.

There are persons also, whose va∣nity leads them to tell a thousand lies. They persuade themselves, that, if it be no way injurious to others, it is harmless and innocent, and they shel∣ter their falshoods under the softer name of untruths. These persons are foolish enough to imagine, that if they can recite any thing wonderful, they draw the attention of the com∣pany, and if they themselves are the objects of that wonder, they are look∣ed up to as persons extraordinary. This has made many a man see things that never were in being, hear things that never were said, and atchieve feats that never were attempted, dealing always in the marvellous. Such may be assured, however un∣willing the persons they are convers∣ing with may be to laugh in their f••••es, th•••• they hold them secretly in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 contempt; for he who will tell a lie thus idly, will not scruple to 〈…〉〈…〉 where his interest is con∣cerned.

Rather than any person should doubt of my veracity for one minute, I would deprive myself of telling abroad either what I had real∣ly seen or heard, if such things did not carry with them the face of pro∣bability.

Others again will boast of the great respect they meet with in cer∣tain companies; of the honours that are continually heaped on them there; of the great price they give for every thing they purchase; and this to be thought of consequence; but unless such people have the best and most accurate memory, they will, perhaps, very soon after contradict their for∣mer assertions, and subject themselves to contempt and derision.

Remember then, as long as you live, that nothing but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 truth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 carry you through life with honour and credit. Liars are not only dis∣greeable but dangerous compani∣ons, and when known, will ever be

shunned by men of understanding. Besides, as the greatest liars are ge∣nerally the greatest fools, a man who addicts himself to this detestable vice, will not only be looked upon as vul∣gar, but will never be considered as a man of sense.

GOOD-BREEDING.

VOID of good breeding, every other qualification will be im∣perfect unadorned, and to a certain degree unavailing.

Good breeding being the result of good sense and good nature, is it not wonderful that people possessed of the one should be deficient in the other? The modes of it varving according to persons, places, and circumstances, cannot indeed be acquired otherwise than by time and observation, but the substance is every where and always the same.

What good morals are to society in general, good manners are to parti∣cular

ones; their band and security. Of all actions, next to that of per∣forming a good one, the consciousness of rendering a civility is the most grateful.

We seldom see a person, let him be ever so ill-bred, wanting in respect to those whom he acknowledges to be his superiors; the manner of shewing this respect then is all I contend for. The well-bred man expresses it natu∣rally and easily, while he who is un∣used to good company expresses it awkwardly. Study, then, to shew that respect which every one wishes to shew in an easy and grateful way; but this must be learnt by observation.

In company with your equals or in mixed companies, a greater lati∣tude may be take in your behaviour; yet, it should never exceed the bounds of decency; for though no one in this case can claim any distinguished marks of respect, every one is entitled to civility and good manners. A man

need not, for example, fear to put his hands in his pockets, take snuff, sit, stand, or occasionally walk about the room; but it would be highly un∣becoming to whistle wear his hat, loosen his garters, or throw himself across the chairs. Such liberties are offensive to our equals, and insult∣ing to our inferiors. Easiness of car∣riage by no means implies inattention and carelessness. No one is at liberty to act in all respects, as he pleases; but is bound by the laws of good manners to behave with decorum.

Let a man talk to you ever so stu∣pidly or frivolously, not to pay some attention to what he says, is savage∣ness, to the greatest degree. Nay if he even forces his conversation to you, it is worse than rudness not to listen to him; for your inattention in this case, tells him, in express terms, that you think him a blockhead and not worth the hearing. Now, if such behaviour is rude to men, it is much more so to

women, who, be their rank what it will, have on account of their sex, a claim to officious attention from the men. Their little wants and whims, their likes and dislikes, and even their impertinences, are particularly attend∣ed to and flattered, and their very thoughts and wishes guessed at and instantly gratified by every well-bred man.

In promiscuous companies, you should vary your address, aggreeable to the different ages of the persons you speak to. It would be rude and absurd to talk of your amours or your pleasures to men of certain dignity and gravity to clergy men, or men in years; but still you should be as easy with them as with others, your man∣ner only should be varied; you should, if possible double your respect and at∣tention to them; and were you to in∣sinuate occasionally, that from their observation and experience you wish to profit, you would insensibly win

their esteem; for flattery if not ful∣some and gross, is aggreeable to all.

When invited to dinner or supper, you must never usurp to yourself the best places, the best dishes, &c. but allways decline them, and offer them to others, except, indeed, you are offered any thing by a superior when it would be a rudeness, if you liked it, not to accept it immediately, without the least apology. Thus, for example, was a superior, the master of the table, to offer you a thing of which there was but one, to pass it to the person next you, would be indirectly charging him that offered it to you, with a want of good manners and proper respect to his company; or, if you were the on∣ly stranger present, it would be a rude∣ness if you would make a feint of re∣fusing it with the customary apology,

I cannot think of taking it from you, sir;

or,

I am sorry to de∣prive you of 〈◊〉〈◊〉,

as it is supposed he is conscious of his own 〈…〉〈…〉

if he choose not to give it, would not have offered it; your apology there∣fore, in this case is putting him upon an equality with yourself. In like man∣ner it is rudeness to draw back when requested by a superior to pass a door first, or to step into a carriage before him. In short, it would be endless to particularise all the instances in which a well bred man shews his po∣liteness in good company, such as not ••awning, singing, whistling, warming his breech at the fire, lounging, put∣ting his legs upon the chairs and the like, familiarities every man's good sense must condemn, and good-breed∣ing abhor.

But, good-breeding consists in more than merely not being ill-bred. To return a bow, speak when you are spoken to, and say nothing rude, are such negative acts of good-breeding, that they are little more than not being a brute, would it not be a very poor commendation of any man's cleanli∣ness

to say that he was not offensive? If we wish for the good will and esteem of our acquaintance, our good-breed∣ing, must be active, chearful, offici∣ous and seducing.

For example, should you invite any one to dine or sup with you, recol∣lect whether ever you had observed them to prefer one thing to another and endeavour to procure that thing•• when at table, say,

At such a time I think you seemed to give this dish a preferrence, I therefore order∣ed it.

This is the wine I observed you best like, I have therefore been at some pains to procure it.

Trifl∣ing as these things may appear, they prove an attention to the person they are said to; and as attention in trifle is the test of respect, the compliment will not be lost.

I need only refer you to your ow•• breast. How have these little atten∣tions when shewn you by others, flat∣tered that self-love which no many

free from? They incline and attach us to that person, and prejudice us af∣terwards to all that he says or does. The declaration of the women in a great degree stamp a man's reputation of being either ill or well-bred; you must then in a manner, overwhelm them with these attentions, they are used to them, and naturally expect them, and to do them justice, they are seldom lost upon them. You must be sedulous to wait upon them, pick up with alacrity any thing they drop, and be very officious in procuring their carriages or their chairs in public places; be blind to what you should not see, and deaf to what you should not hear. Opportunities of shewing these attentions are continually pre∣senting themselves; but in case they should not you must study to create them.

If ever you would be esteemed by the women, your conversation to them should be always respectful, lively, and

addressed to their vanity. Every thing you say or do, should tend to shew a regard to their beauty or good sense; even men are not without their vani∣ties of one kind or other, and flatter∣ing that vanity by words and looks of approbation, is one of the principal characters of good-breeding.

Address and manners, with weak persons, who are actually three-fourths of the world, are every thing; and even people of the best understanding are taken in with them. Where the heart is not won and the eye pleased, the mind will seldom be on our side.

In short learning and erudition, without good breeding, is tiresome and pedantic; and an ill-bred man is a unfit for good company as he will be unwelcome in it. Nay, he is full as unfit for business as for company. M••ke then good-breeding the great object of your thoughts and actions. Be particularly observant of, and en∣deavour to instate, the behaviour and

manners of such as are distinguished by their politeness; and be persuaded, that good breeding is to all worldly qualifications, what charity is to all christian virtues; it adorns merit, and often covers the want of it.

GENTEEL CARRIAGE.

NEXT to good breeding is a genteel manner and carriage, wholly free from those ill habits and awkward actions, which many very worthy persons are addicted to.

A genteel manner of behaviour, how trifling soever it may seem, is of the utmost consequence in private life. Men of very inferior parts have been esteemed, merely for their genteel car∣riage and good-breeding, while sen∣sible men have given disgust for want of it. There is something or other that prepossesses us at first sight in fa∣vour of a well-bred man, and makes us wi••h to like him.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 an awkward fellow first

comes into a room, he attempts to bow, and his sword, if he wears one, goes between his legs, and nearly throws him down. Confused and a∣shamed, he stumbles to the upper end of the room, and seats himself in the very chair he should not. He there begins playing with his hat, which he presently drops; and recovering his hat, he lets fall his cane; and in pick∣ing up his cane, down goes his hat again; thus 'tis a considerable time before he is a dusted. When his tea or coffee is handed to him, he spreads his handkerchief upon his knees, scalds his mouth, drops either the cup or the sacuer, and spills the tea or coffee in his lap. At dinner he is more uncommonly awkward; there he tucks his napkin through a button∣hole which tickles his chin, and oc∣casions him to make a variety of wry faces; he seats himself upon the edge of the chair, at so great a distance from the table, that he frequently drops his

meat between his plate and his mouth; he holds his knife, fork and spoon dif∣ferently from other people; eats with his knife, to the manifest danger of his mouth; picks his teeth with his fork, rakes his mouth with his finger, and puts his spoon which has been in his throat a dozen times, into the dish a∣gain. If he is to carve, he cannot hit the joint, but in labouring to cut through the bone, splashes the sauce over every body's cloths. He gener∣ally daubs himself all over, his elbows are in the next person's plate, and he is up to the knuckles in soup and grease. If he drinks, it is with his mouth full, interrupting the whole company wi•••• "To your good health, sir," and "My service to you," perhaps coughs in his glass, and he sprinkles the whole table. Further, he has perhaps a num∣ber of disagreeable tricks, he snuffs up his nose, picks it with his fingers, blows it and look in his handkerchief, crams his hands first into his bosom,

and next into his breeches. In short, he neither dresses nor acts like any other person, but is particularly awk∣ward in every thing he does. All this, I own, has nothing in it criminal; but it is such an offence to good man∣ners and good-breeding, that it is u∣niversally despised; it makes a ma•• ridiculous in every company, and o•• course, ought carefully to be avoided by every one who would wish to please.

From this picture of the ill-bred man, you will easily distinguish that of the well-bred; for you may readi∣ly judge what you ought to do, when you are told what you ought not to do; a little attention to the manners of those who have seen the world, will make a proper behaviour habitu∣al and familiar to you.

Actions that would otherwise be pleasing, frequently become ridicu∣lous by your manner of doing them. If a lady drops her fan in company, the worst-bred man would immedi∣ately

pick it up, and give it to her; the best bred-man can do no more; but then he does it in a graceful man∣ner, that is sure to please, whereas the other would do it so awkwardly as to be laughed at.

You may also know a well-bred person by his manner of sitting. Ashamed and confused, the awkward man sits in his chair stiff and bolt up∣right, whereas the man of fashion, is easy in every position; instead of lol∣ling or lounging as he sits, he leans with elegance, and by varying his at∣titudes, shews that he has been used to good company. Let it be one part of your study then, to learn to sit gen∣teely in different companies, to loll gracefully, where you are authorized to take that liberty, and to sit up res∣pectfully, where that freedom is not allowable.

In short, you cannot conceive how advantageous a graceful carriage and a pleasing address are, upon all occa∣sions;

they ensnare the affections, steal a prepossession in our favour, and, play about the heart till they engage it.

Now to acquire a graceful air you must attend to your dancing; no one can either sit, stand or wa••k well un∣less he dances well. And, in learning to dance, be particularly attentive to the motion of your arms, for a stiff∣ness in the wrist will make any ma•• look awkward. If a man walks well presents himself well in company wears his hat well, moves his head properly and his arms gracefully it i•• almost all that is necessary.

There is also an awkwardness i•• speech that naturally falls under thi•• head, and ought to, and may be guard∣ed against; such as forgetting names, and mistaking one name for another; to speak of Mr. What-dye-call-him, or You-know-how. Mrs. Thingum, What's her-name, or How-d••ye call her is exceeding awkward and vulgar. It is the same to address people by im∣proper

titles, as for for my lord, to begin a story without being able to finish it, and break off in the middle, with "I have forgot the rest."

Our voice and manner of speaking too, should likewise be attended to. Some will mumble over their words, so as not to be intelligible, and others will speak so fast as not to be under∣stood, and, in doing this, will sputter and spit in your face; some will bawl as if they were speaking to the deaf; others will speak so low as scarcely to be heard; and many will put their face so close to yours as to offend you with their breath. All these habits are horrid and disgustful, put may easily be got the better of, with care. They are the vulgar cha∣racteristics of a low-bred man, or are proofs that very little pains have been bestowed in his education. In short, ••n attention to these little matters are of greater importance than you are ••ware of; many a sensible man having

lost ground for want of these little graces, and many a one, possessed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 these perfections alone, having mad•• his way through life, that otherwi•• would not have been noticed.

CLEANLINESS OF PERSON

BUT, as no one can please in com∣pany, however graceful his a•• unless he be clean and neat in his p••∣son, this qualification comes next 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be considered.

Negligence of one's person not o••∣ly implies an unsufferable indolen•• but an indifference whether we ple•• or not. In others, it betrays an i•• solence and affection, arising from presumption, that they are sure pleasing, without having recourse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to those means which many are obli••∣ed to use.

He who is not thoroughly clean•• his ••••son, will be offensive in all converses with. A parti•• 〈…〉〈…〉 to the cleanliness of your 〈…〉〈…〉

hands and nails, is but common de∣cency. A foul mouth and unclean hands, are certain marks of vulgarity; the first is the cause of an offensive breath, which nobody can bear, and the last is declarative of dirty work; one may always know a gentleman by the state of his hands and nails. The flesh at the roots should be kept back, so as to shew the semicircles at the bottom of the nails; the edges of the nails should never be cut down below the ends of the fingers nor should they be suffered to grow longer than the fingers. When the nails are cut down to the quick it is a shrewd sign that the man is a mechanic, to whom long nails would be troublesome, or that he gets his bread by fiddling; and if they are longer than his fingers ends, and encircled with a black rim, it fore∣tells he has been laboriously and mean∣ly employed, and too fatigued to clean himself: a good apology for want of cleanliness in a mechanic, but

the greatest disgrace that can attend gentleman.

These things may appear too insig∣nificant to be mentioned; but whe•• it is considered that a thousand litt•• nameless things, which every one fe•• but no one can describe, conspire 〈◊〉〈◊〉 form that whole of pleasing, I ho•• you will not call them trifling. Be∣sides, a clean shirt and a clean pers•• are as necessary to health, as not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 offend other people. It is a maxi•• with me which I have lived to see ve••∣fied, that he who is negligent at twe•• years of age, will be a sloven at for•• and intolerable at fifty.

DRESS.

NEATNESS of person, I observ∣ed was as necessary as cleanli∣ness; of course, some attention m•• be paid to your dress.

Such is the absurdity of the time that to pass well with the world, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 must adopt some of its customs, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they ridiculous or not.

In the first place, to neglect one's dress is to affront all the female part of our acquaintance. The women in particular pay an attention to their dress; to neglect therefore yours will displease them, as it would be tacitly taxing them with vanity, and declar∣ing that you thought them not worth that respect which every body else does. And, as I have mentioned be∣fore, as it is the women who stamp a young man's credit, in the fashion∣able world, if you do not make your∣self agreeable to the women, you will assuredly lose ground among the men.

Dress, as trifling as it may appear to a man of understanding, prepos∣sesses on the first appearance, which is frequently decisive. And indeed we may form some opinion of a man's sense and character from his dress. Any exceeding of the fashion, or any affectation in dress whatever, argue, a weakness in understanding, and nine times out of ten it will be found so.

There are few young fellows but what display some character or oth•• in this shape. Some would be thought fearless and brave; these wear a black cravat, a short coat and waistcoat, a•• uncommon long sword hanging 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their knees, a large hat fiercely cocke•• and are flash all over. Others affe•• to be country squires; these will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 about in buckskin breeches brow•• frocks, and great oaken cudgels i•• their hands, slouched hats, with the•• hair undressed and tucked up und•• them, to an enormous size, and imita•• grooms and country boobies so we•• externally, that there is not the leak doubt of their resembling them as we•• internally. Others, again, paint and powder themselves so much, and dre•• so finically, as leads us to suppose they are only women in boys cloaths. No•• a sensible man carefully avoids all this or any other affectation. He dress•• as fashionably and well as persons o•• the best families and best sense; if h••

exceeds them, he is a coxcomb; if he dresses worse, he is unpardonable.

Dress yourself fine, then, if possi∣ble; or plain, agreeable to the compa∣ny you are in; that is conform to the dress of others, and avoid the appear∣ance of being tumbled. Imitate those reasonable people of your own age, whose dress is neither remarked as too neglected or too much studied. Take care to have your cloaths well made, in the fashion, and to fit you, or you will after all, appear awkward. When once dressed, think no more of it; shew no fear of discomposing your dress, but let all your motions be as easy and unembarrassed, as if you was at home in your dishabille.

ELEGANCE OF EXPRESSION.

HAVING mentioned elegance of person, I will proceed to ele∣gance of expression.

It is not one or two qualifications alone complete the gentleman; it

must be a union of many; and grace∣ful speaking is as essential as grace∣fulness of person. Every man cannot be an harmonious speaker; a rough∣ness or coarseness of voice may pre∣vent it; but if there are no natural 〈◊〉〈◊〉 perfections, if a ••n does not stam∣mer or lisp, or has not lost his teeth, he may speak gracefully; nor will all these defects, if he has a mind to it, prevent him from speaking correctly.

••••body can attend with pleasure to a bad speaker. One who tells his story ill, be it ever so important, will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 even the most patient. If you have been present at the performance of a good tragedy, you have doubt∣less been sensible of the good effects of a speech well delivered; how much it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 interested and affected you; and on the contrary, how much an ill spoken one has disgusted you. 'Tis the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in common conversation: he who 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deliberately, distinc•• and correctly: he who makes use of the

best words to express himself, and varies his voice according to the nature of the subject, will always please, while the thick or hasty speaker, he who mumbles out a set of ill chosen words, utters them ingramatically, or with a dull monotony, will tire and disgust. Be assured then, the air, the gesture, the looks of a speaker a proper accent, a just emphasis and tuneful cadence are full as necessary to please and be attended to, as the subject matter itself.

People may talk what they will of solid reasoning and sound sense; with∣out the graces and ornaments of lan∣guage, they will neither please nor persuade. In common discourse, even trifles elegantly expressed will be bet∣ter received than the best of argu∣ments homespun and unadorned.

A good way to acquire a graceful utterrance is to read aloud to some friend every day, and beg of him to set you right, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you ••••ad too fast,

do not observe the proper stops, lay a wrong emphasis or utter your words indistinctly. You may even read aloud to yourself where such a friend is not at hand, and you will find your own ear a good corrector. Take care to open your teeth when you read or speak, and articulate every word dis∣tinctly; which last cannot be done, but by sounding the final letter. But above all, endeavour to vary your voice according to the matter, and avoid a monotony. By a daily at∣tention to this, it will, in a little time, become easy and habitual to you.

Pay an attention also to your looks and your gesture, when talking even on the most trifling subjects; things appear very different according as they are expressed, looked and deli∣vered.

Now, if it is necessary to attend so particularly to our manner of speak∣ing it is much more so, with respect to the matter. Fine turns of expres∣sion,

a genteel and correct style, are ornaments as requisite to common sense, as polite behaviour and an ele∣gant address are to common good manners; they are great assistants in the point of pleasing. A gentleman, its true, may be known in the mean∣est garb, but it admits not of a doubt, that he would be better received into good company, genteely and fashion∣ably dressed, than was he to appear in dirt and tatters.

Be careful then of your style upon all occasions; whether you write or speak, study for the best words and best expressions, even in common con∣versation or the most familiar letters. This will prevent your speaking in a hurry, than which nothing is more vulgar; though you may be a little embarrassed at first, time and use will render it easy. It is no such difficult thing to express ourselves well on subjects we are thoroughly acquainted with, if we think before we speak; and no one should presume to do

otherwise. When you have said a thing if you did not reflect before be sure to do it afterwards: consider with yourself, whether you could not have expressed yourself better; and if you are in doubt of the propriety or ele∣gancy of any word, search for it is some dictionary, * 1.1 or some good au∣thor, while you remember it: never be sparing of your trouble while you would wish to improve, and my word for it, a very little time will make this matter habitual.

In order to speak grammatically and to express yourself pleasingly, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would recommend it to you to trans∣late often any language you are ac∣quainted with into English, and to correct such translation till the words, their order, and the periods are a∣greeable to your own ear.

Vulgarism in language is another distinguishing mark of bad company and education. Expressions may be correct in themselves and yet be vul∣••ar owing to their not being fashion∣••ble, for language as manners are both established by the usage of people of fashion.

The conversation of a low-bred ••an is filled up with proverbs and ••ackneyed sayings. Instead of observ∣ing that tastes are different, and that ••ost men have one peculiar to them∣selves, he will give you "What is ••ne man's meat is another man's ••oison;" or, "Every one to their ••king, as the old woman said, when 〈◊〉〈◊〉 kissed her cow." He has ever me favourite word, which he lugs 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon all occasions, right or wrong; ••h as vastly angry, vastly kind; de∣lish ugly, divilish handso••, immense-great, immen••ely little. Even his pro∣••ciation carries the mark of vulgar∣ity

along with it; he calls the earth, yearth; finances, finances; he go•• to wards and not towards such a place. He affects to use hard words, to gi•• him the appearance of a man of learn∣ing, but frequently mistakes the•• meaning, and seldom, if ever, pro∣nounces them properly.

All this must be avoided, if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would not be supposed to have ke•• company with footmen and house maids. Never have recourse to pr••∣verbial or vulgar sayings; use neither favourite nor hard words, but seek for the most elegant; be careful in the management of them, and depend 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on it your labour will not be lost 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for nothing is more engaging than 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a fashionable and polite address.

ADDRESS, PHRASEOLOGY, AND SMALL-TALK.

IN all good company, we meet with a certain manner, phraseology and general conversation, that distinguish∣es

the man of fashion. This can only be acquired by frequenting good company and being particularly at∣tentive to all that passes there.

When invited to dine or sup at the house of any well-bred man, observe how he does the honours of his table, and mark his manner of treating his company.

Attend to the compliments of co••∣gratulation or condolance that he pays; and take notice of his address to his superiors, his equals and his inferiors; nay, his very looks and tone of voice are worth your attention, for we can∣not please without a union of them all.

There is a certain distinguishing diction that marks the man of fashion, a certain language of conversation that every gentleman should be mas∣ter of. Saying to a man just married, "I wish you joy," or to one who has lost his wife "I am sorry for your loss." and both perhaps with an un∣meaning countenance, may be civil,

but it is nevertheless vulgar. A ma•• of fashion will express the same thi•• more elegantly and with a look 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sincerity, that shall attract the estee•• of the person he speaks to. He will advance to the one, with warmth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 chearfulness, and perhaps squeezing him by the hand, will say, "Belie•• me my dear sir, I have scarce words 〈◊〉〈◊〉 express the joy I fe••l, upon your hap∣py alliance with such or such a fami∣ly, &c." To the other in affliction, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will advance slower, and with a pe∣culiar composure of voice and counte∣nance, begin his compliments of con∣dolance with,

I hope, sir, you wil•• do me the justice, to be persuade•• that I am not insensible of you•• unhappiness, that I take part i•• your distress, and shall ever be a∣fected when you are so.

Your first address to, and indeed all your conversation with, your su∣periors, should be open, chearful and respectful; with your equals, warm

and animated; with your inferiors, hearty, free and unreserved.

There is a fashionable kind of small talk, which however trifling it may be thought, has its use in mixed com∣panies: of course you should endea∣vour to acquire it. By small talk I mean a good deal to say on unimport∣ant matters; for example foods, the fla∣vour and growth of wines, and the chit-chat of the day. Such conver∣sation will serve to keep off serious subjects, that might sometimes create disputes. This chit-chat is chiefly to be learned by frequenting the com∣pany of the ladies.

OBSERVATION.

AS the art of pleasing is to be learnt only by frequenting the best companies, we must endeavor to pick it up in such companies, by ob∣servation; for it is not sense and knowledge alo••e that will acquire esteem; these certainly are the first and

necessary foundations for pleasing, but they will by no means do, unless at∣tended with manners and attentions.

There have been people who have frequented the first companies all their lifetime, and yet have never got rid of their natural stiffeness and awk∣wardness; but have continued as vul∣gar as if they were never out of a ser∣vants hall; this has been owing to carelessness, and a want of attention to the manners and behaviour of o∣thers.

There are a great many people likewise who busy themselves the whole day, and who in fact do no∣thing. They have possibly taken up a book for two or three hours, but from a certain inattention that gr•• upon them, the more it is indulged, know no more of the contents th•• if they had not looked into it; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it is impossible for any one to ret•• what he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••unless he reflects and reasons upon it as he goes on. Whe••

they have thus lounged away an hour or two, they will saunter into com∣pany, without attending to any thing that passes there; but if they think at all, are thinking of some trifling matter that ought not to occupy their attention; thence perhaps they go to the play, where they stare at the company and the lights, without at∣tending to the piece, the very thing they went to see. In this manner they wear away their hours, that might otherwise be employed to their improvement and advantage. This silly suspension of thought they would pass for absence of mind—ridiculous! Wherever you are, let me recom∣mend it to you to pay an attention to all that passes; observe the characters of the persons you are with, and the subjects of their conversation; listen to every thing that is said, see every thing that is done, and according to the vulgar saying have your eyes and your ears about you.

A continual inattention to mat∣ters that occur is the characteristic of a weak mind the man who gives way to it, is little else than a trifler, a blank in society, which every sensible person overlooks; surely what is worth doing is worth doing well, and nothing can be well done, if not properly attended to. When I hear a man say on being asked about any thing that was said or done in his pre∣sence, "that truly he did not mind it." I am ready to knock the fool down. Why did not he mind it?— What else had he to do?—A man of sense and fashion never makes use of this paltry plea, he never com∣plains of a treacherous memory, but attends to and remembers every thing that is either said or done.

Whenever then, you go into good company, that is the company of people of fashion, observe carefully their behaviour, their address and their manner; imitate it as far as in your

power. Your attention if possible, should be so ready as to observe every person in the room at once, their mo∣tions, their looks, and their turns of expression, and that without staring or seeming to be an observer. This kind of observation may be acquired by care and practice, and will be found of the utmost advantage to you, in the course of life.

ABSENCE OF MIND.

HAVING mentioned absence of mind, let me be more particular concerning it.

What the world calls an absent man is generally either a very affected one or a very weak one; but whether weak or affected he is in company, a ••ery disagreeable man. Lost in thought, or possibly in no thought at all, he is a stranger to every one pre∣sent, and to every thing that passes; ••e knows not his best friends, is defi∣cient in every act of good-manners,

unobservant of the actions of the com∣pany and insensible to his own. Hi•• answers are quite the reverse of wh•• they ought to be: talk to him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 one thing, he replies, as of anothe••. He forgets what he said last, leav•• his hat in one room, his cane in an∣other, and his sword in a third; na•• if it was not for his buckles, he would even leave his shoes behind him. Neither his arms nor his le•• seem to be a part of his body, and his head is never in a right position. He joins not in the general conversa∣tion, except it be by fits and starts, as if awaking from a dream: I attri∣bute this either to weakness or affec∣tation. His shallow mind is possibly not able to attend to more than o•• thing at a time; or he would be sup∣posed wrapt up in the investigation 〈◊〉〈◊〉 some very important matter. Su•• men as Sir Isaac Newton or Mr. Locke might occasionally have some ••cuse for absence of mind; it migh••

proceed from that intenseness of thought that was necessary at all times for the scientific subjects they were studying; but, for a young man, and a man of the world, who has no such plea to make, absence of mind is a rudeness to the company, and deserves the severest censure.

However insignificant a company may be; however trifling their con∣versation; while you are with them, do not shew them by an inattention that you think them trifling; that can never be the way to please, but rather fall in with their weakness than otherwise, for to mortify, or shew the least contempt to those we are in com∣pany with, is the greatest rudeness we can be guilty of, and what few can forgive.

I never yet found a man inatten∣tive to the person he feared, or the woman he loved; which convinces me, that absence of mind is to be got the better of, if we think proper to

make the trial; and believe me, it is always worth the attempt.

Absence of mind is a tacit declara∣tion, that those we are in company with, are not worth attending to; and what can be a greater affront?— Besides, can an absent man improve by what is said or done in his pres∣ence?—No; he may frequent the best companies for years together, and all to no purpose. In short, a man is neither fit for business nor conversation unless he can attend to the object before him, be that ob∣ject what it will.

KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD.

A Knowledge of the world, by our own experience and observati∣on, is so necessary, that, without it, we shall act very absurdly and fre∣quently give offence, when we do not mean it. All the learning and parts in the world will not secure us from it. Without an acquaintance with

••fe, a man may say very good things, ••ut time them so ill, and address ••em so improperly, that he had much ••etter be silent. Full of himself and ••is own business, and inattentive to ••e circumstances and situations of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 those he converses with, he vents 〈◊〉〈◊〉 without the least discretion, says ••ings that he ought not to say, con∣••es some, shocks others, and puts 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whole company in pain, lest what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 utters next should prove worse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the last. The best direction I ••n give you in this matter, is rather 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fall in with the conversation of ••hers, than start a subject of your ••n; rather strive to put them more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conceit with themselves, than to ••aw their attention to you.

A novice in life, he who knows ••le of mankind, but what he collects ••m books, lays it down as a maxim, at most men love flattery; in order ••refore to please, he will flatter. ••t, how? Without regard either to

circumstances or occasion. In•• of those delicate touches, those ••∣tints that serve to heighten the p•• he lays on his colours with a he•• hand and daubs, where he means 〈◊〉〈◊〉 adorn; in other words, he will fla•• so unseasonably and at the same 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so grosly, that while he wishes to pl•• he puts out of countenance, and is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to offend. On the contrary, a m•• the world, one who has made his his study, knows the power of fla•• as well as he; but, then, he k•• how to apply it; he watches the ••∣portunity, and does it indirectly, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 inference comparison and hint.

Man is made up of such a v•• of matter, that, to search him thoro••∣ly requires time and attention, fo•• we are all made of the same mat•• and have all the same passions. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from a difference in their prope•• and combination, we vary in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dispositions; what is agreeab•• one is disagreeable to another 〈◊〉〈◊〉

••at one shall approve, another shall ••demn. Reason is given us to con∣••l these passions, but seldom does 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Application therefore to the reason ••f my man, will frequently prove inef∣fectual, unless we endeavour at the ••e time to gain his heart.

Wherever then you are, search into ••e character of men; find out, if ••ffible their foible, their governing ••ion, or their particular merit; ••e them on their weak side, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will generally succeed; their ••ailing vanity you may readily ••cover, by observing their favour∣ite topic of coversation, for every one ••s most, of what he would be ••ought most to excel••••n.

The time should also be judici∣••ly made choice of. Every man ••s his particular times when he may 〈◊〉〈◊〉 applied to with success, the mollia tempora sandi; but these times are not all day long; they must be sound out, watched and taken advan∣tage

of, You could not hope 〈◊〉〈◊〉 success in applying to a man abo•• one business, when he was taken 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with another, or when his mind 〈◊〉〈◊〉 affected with excess of grief, ang•• or the like.

You cannot judge of others m•• minds better than by studying y•• own; for though some men ha•• one foible, and another has another yet men in general are very m•• alike. Whatever pleases or offe•• you, will in similar circumstan•• please or offend others; if you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yourself hurt when another ma•• you feel his superiority, you will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tainly upon the common rule of ri•• Do as you would be done by, take 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not to let another feel your superio•• ty, if you have it; especially if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wish to gain his interest or estee•• If disagreeable insinuations op•• contradictions or oblique sneers 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and anger you, would you use th•• where you wished to please? C••∣tainly

not. Observe then, with care, the operations of your own mind and you may, in a great measure, read all mankind.

I will allow that one bred up in a cloister or college, may reason well on the structure of the human mind; ••e may investigate the nature of man, and give a tolerable account of his head his heart, his passions, and his sentiments: but at the same time he may know nothing of him; he has not lived with him, and of course know but little how those sentiments 〈◊〉〈◊〉 those passions will work.—He must be ignorant of the various pre∣••dices propensities and antipathies that always bias him and frequently determine him. His knowledge is required only from theory, which dif∣••ers widely from practice; and if he forms his judgment from that alone, ••e must be often deceived; whereas a man of the world, one who collects his knowledge from his own expe∣rience and observation, is seldom

wrong, he is well acquainted with the operations of the human mind, prys into the heart of man reads his words, before they are uttered; sees his acti∣ons, before they are performed; knows what will please and what will displease, and forsees the event of most things.

Labour then to accquire this in∣tuitive knowledge; attend carefully to the address, the arts and manners of those acquainted with life, and endeavour to imitate them. Observe the means they take, to gain the fa∣vour and conciliate the affections of those they associate with; pursue those means, and you will soon gain the esteem of all that know you.

How often have we seen men go∣verned by persons very much their in∣feriors in point of understanding, and even without their knowing it? A proof that some men have more world∣ly dexterity than others; they fi•••• out the weak and unguarded part

make their attack there, and the man surrenders.

Now from a knowledge of man∣kind we shall learn the advantage of two things, the command of our tem∣per and our countenances; a tri••••∣ing disagreeable incident shall per∣haps anger one unaccquainted with life, or confound him with shame; shall make him rave like a madman, or look like a fool; but a man of the world will never understand what he cannot or ought not to resent. If he should chance to make a slip himself, he will stifle his confusion, and turn it off with a jest; recovering it with ••oolness.

Many people have sense enough to keep their own secrets; but from be∣ing unused to a variety of company, have unfortunately such a tell-tale countenance, as involuntary declares what they would wish to conceal. This is a great unhappiness, and should, as soon as possible be got the better of.

That coolness of mind and even∣ness of countenance, which prevents a discovery of our sentiments, by our words, our actions, or our looks, is too necessary to pass unnoticed. A man who can not hear displeasing things, without visible marks of an∣ger or uneasiness; or pleasing one's, without a sudden burst of joy, a chear∣ful eye, or an expanded face, is at the mercy of every knave, for either they will designedly please or provoke you themselves to catch your unguarded looks, or they will seize the oppor∣tunity thus to read your very heart, when any other shall do it. You may possibly tell me, that this cool∣ness must be natural, for if not, you can never acquire it. I will admit the force of constitution, but people are very apt to blame that for many things they might readily avoid. Care with a little reflection, will soon give you this mastery of your temper and your countenance. If you find

yourself subject to sudden starts of passion determine with yourself not ••o utter a single word till your reas∣on has recovered itself; and resolve to keep your countenance as unmov∣ed as possible. As a man who at a card table can preserve a serenity in his looks, under good or bad luck, has considerably the advantage of one who appears elated with success, or cast down with ill fortune, from our being able to read his cards in his face, so the man of the world, having to deal with one of those bab∣••ing countenances, will take care to profit by the circumstance, let the consequence, to him with whom he deals be as injurious as it may.

In the course of life, we shall find, it necessary very often to put on a pleasing countenance, when we are exceedingly displeased; we must fre∣quently seem friendly when we are quite otherwise. I am sensible it is difficult to accost a man with smiles

whom we know to be our enemy: but what is to be done? On receiv∣ing an affront if you cannot be justi∣fied in knocking the offender down, you must not notice the offence; for, in the eye of the world taking an af∣front calmly is considered as cowar∣dice.

If fools should attempt at any time to be witty upon you, the best way is not to know their witticisms are level∣ed at you, but to conceal any uneasiness it may give you: but should they be so plain that you cannot be thought ignorant of their meaning, I would recomend, rather than quarrel with the company, joining even in the laugh against yourself; allow the jest to be a good one, and take it in seem∣ing good humour. Never attempt to retaliate the same way, as that would imply you were hurt. Should what is said wound your honour or your moral character there is but one pre∣per reply, which I hope you will ne∣ver be obliged to have recourse to.

Remember there are but two alter∣natives for a gentleman; extreme politeness, or the sword. If a man openly and designedly affronts you, call him out; but, if it does not a∣mount to an open insult, be outward∣ly civil; if this does not make him ashamed of his behaviour, it will pre∣judice every by-stander in your favour, and instead of being disgraced, you will come off with honour. Polite∣ness to those we do not respect, is no more a breach of faith, than your humble servant at the bottom of a challenge; they are universally un∣derstood to be things of course.

Wrangling and quarrelling are characteristic of a weak mind; leave that to the women, be you always a∣bove it. Enter into no sharp contest, and pride yourself, in shewing, if possible, more civility to your anta∣gonist than to any other in the com∣pany; this will infallibly bring o∣ver all the laughers to your side,

and the person you are contend•• with will be very likely to con••e•• you have behaved very handsome•• throughout the whole affair.

Experience will teach us that t•••• all men consist principally of the same materials, as I before took na∣tice, yet from a difference in the•• proportion, no two men are uniform∣ly the same: we differ from one ••∣other, and we often differ from ou••∣selves, that is, we sometimes do thing utterly inconsistent with the gene••∣tenor of our characters. The wi•• man may occasionally do aweak thin•• the most honest man, a wrong thin••▪ the proudest man, a mean things and the worst of men will sometime•• do a good thing, On this accou••••, our study of mankind should not be general; we should take a frequent view of individuals, and though 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may upon the whole form a judgment of the man from his prevailing pas∣sion or his general character, yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉

will be prudent not to determine till we have waited to see the operations ••f his subordinate appetites, and ••mours.

For example; a man's general cha∣racter may be that of strictly honest. I would not dispute it, because, I would not be thought envious or ••levolent; but I would not rely ••on this general character, so as to ••trust him with my fortune or my 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Should this honest man, as is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 uncommon, be my rival in power, ••rest, or love, he may possibly do ••ings that in other circumstances he ••ould abhor; and power interest and ••e, let me tell you, will often put honesty to the severest trial, and fre∣quently overpower it. I would then ••••sack this honest man to the bottom, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wished to trust him, and as I ••ound him, would place my consi∣••ence accordingly.

One of th•• great compositions in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nature is vanity, to which all men, ••ore or less, give way. Women have

an intollerable share of it. No 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tery no adulation is too gross for th•• those who flatter them most, pl•• them best, and they are most in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with him who pretends to most in love with them: and least slight or contempt of them never forgotten. It is, in some m•• ure the same with men; they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sooner pardon an injury than an in•• and are more hurt by contempt 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by ill usage. Though all men, not boast of superior talents, tho•• they pretend not to the abiliti•• a Pope, a Newton, or a Boli•• broke, every one pretends to h•• common sense, and to disch•• his office in life with common dece•• cy to arraign therefore, in any shap•• his abilities or integrity in the depart∣ment he holds, is an insult he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not readily forgive.

As I would not have your trust 〈◊〉〈◊〉 implicitly to a man, because the wo•• give him a good character, so I mi••

particularly caution you against those 〈◊〉〈◊〉 speak well of themselves. In ••••eral, suspect those who boast of or ••ect to have any one virtue above 〈◊〉〈◊〉 others, for they are commonly im∣••ors. There are exceptions how∣ever to this rule, for we hear of prudes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have been chaste, bullies that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 been brave, and saints that have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 religious. Confide only where 〈◊〉〈◊〉 own observation shall direct you; ••ve not only what is said, but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it is said, and if you have any ••etration, you may find out the ••h better by your eyes than your 〈◊〉〈◊〉; in short, never take a charac∣ter upon common report, but enquire 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it yourself; for common report, ••••ough it is right in general, may 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wrong in particulars.

Beware of those who on a slight acquaintance, make you a tender of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 friendship, and seem to place a confidence in you; 'tis ten to one but they deceive and betray you;

however do not rudely reject 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon such a supposition; you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be civil to them, though you do not entrust them. Silly men are apt 〈◊〉〈◊〉 solicit your friendship, and unbosom themselves upon the first acquaint∣ance; such a friend cannot be worth hearing, their friendship being 〈◊〉〈◊〉 slender as their understanding; and if they profer their friendship with design to make a property of yo•• they are dangerous acquaintance 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deed. Not but that the little frien•• ships of the weak may be of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 use to you, if you do not return 〈◊〉〈◊〉 compliment; and it may not be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 miss to seem to accept of those de∣signing men, keeping them, as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 were in play, that they may not be openly your enemies; for their enmi∣ty is the next dangerous thing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their friendship. We may certain•• hold their vices in abhorrence, with•• out being marked out as their person∣al enemy. The general rule is 〈◊〉〈◊〉

have a real reserve with almost every ••ne, and a seeming reserve with al∣most no one: for it is very disgusting to seem reserved, and dangerous not to be so. Few observe the true medi∣••m. many are ridiculously mysteri∣ous upon trifles, and many indis∣creetly communitive of all they know.

There is a kind of short-lived friendship that takes place among ••ung men, from a connection in ••eir pleasures only; a friendship too ••••en attended with bad consequen∣ces. This companion of your plea∣••••s, young and unexperienced, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 probably, in the heat of convivi∣al mirth vow a perpetual friendship, ••••d unfold himself to you without 〈◊〉〈◊〉 least reserve; but new associati∣••tions, change of fortune, or change of lace, may soon break this ill timed ••••nection and an improper use may 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be made of it. Be one, if you 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in young companies, and bear 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part like others in all the social

festivity of youth; nay trust them with your innocent frolicks, but keep your serious matters to yourself; and if you must at any time make them known, let it be to some tried friend of great experience; and that nothing may tempt him to become your rival, let that friend be in a dif∣ferent walk of life from yourself.

Were I to hear a man making strong protestations and swearing to the truth of a thing, that is in itself probable and very likely to be, I should doubt his veracity; for when he takes such pains to make me believe it, it cannot be with a good design.

There is a certain easiness or false modesty in most young people, that either makes them unwilling, or ashamed to refuse any thing that is asked of them. There is also an un∣garded openness about them that makes them the ready prey of the artful and designing. They are easily

led away by the feigned friendships of a knave or a fool, and too rashly place a confidence in them, that ter∣minates in their loss, and frequently in their ruin. Beware, therefore, as I said before, of these proffered friend∣ships; repay them with compliments, but not with confidence. Never let your vanity make you suppose that people become your friends upon a slight acquaintance; for good offices must be shewn on both sides to cre∣••••e a friendship: it will not thrive, unless its love be mutual: and it re∣quires time to ripen it.

There is still among young people mother kind of friendship merely no∣minal; warm indeed for a time, but fortunately of no long continuance. This friendship takes its rise from their pursuing the same course of riot and debauchery; their purses are open to each other, they tell one an∣other all they know, they embark in the same quarrels, and stand by each

other on all occasions. I should ra∣ther call this a confederacy against good morals and good manners, and think it deserves the severest lash of the law: but they have the impu∣dence to call it friendship. However, it is often as suddenly disolved as it is hastily contracted; some accident dis∣perses them and they presently forget each other, except it is to betray and to laugh at their own egregious folly.

In short, the sun of the whole is, to make a wide difference between companions and friends; for a very agreeable companion has often prov∣ed a very dangerous friend.

CHOICE OF COMPANY.

THE next thing to the choice of friends is the choice of your company.

Endeavour as much as you can, to keep good company, and the com∣pany of your superiors; for you will be held in estimation according to

the company you keep. By superi∣o••s, I do not mean somuch with re∣gard to birth, as merit, and the light in which they are considered by the world.

There are two sorts of good com∣pany, the one consists of persons of birth, rank, and fashion; the other of those who are distinguished by some peculiar merit, in any liberal art or ••••ence as men of letters, &c. and a mixture of th••se, is what I would have understood by good company: for it is not what particular sets of people shall call themselves, but what the people in general acknow∣ledge to be so, and are the accredited good company of the place.

Now and then per••••ns without either birth, rank, o•• character, will ••••eep into good company, under the protection of some considerable personage; but, in general, none are admitted of mean degree or infam∣•••••• moral character.

In this fashionable good company alone, can you learn the best manners and the best language: for, as there is no legal standard to form them by, 'tis here they are established.

It may possibly be questioned, whe∣ther a man has it always in his power to get into good company, undoubt∣edly, by deserving it, he has, provid∣ed he is in circumstances which enable him to live and appear in the stile of a gentleman. Knowledge, modesty and good-breeding, will endear him to all that see him; for without po∣liteness, the scholar is no better than a pedant, the philosopher than a cynic, the soldier than a brute, nor any man than a clown.

Though the company of men of learning and genius is highly to be valued and occasionally coveted, I would by no means have you always found in such company. As they do not live in the world, they cannot have that easy manner and address which

I would wish you to acquire. If you can bear a part in such company it is certainly adviseable to be in it some∣times, and you will be the more es∣teemed in other company by being so; but let it not engross you, lest it should be considered as one of the literati, which however respectable in name, is not the way to rise or shine in the fashionable world.

But the company which, of all o∣thers, you should carefully avoid, is that, which in every sense of the words may be called low: low in birth, low in rank, low in parts, and low in manners; that company, who, insig∣nificant and contemptible in them∣selves, think it an honour to be seen with you, and who will flatter your follies, nay your very vices, to keep you with them.

Though you may think such a caution unnecessary, I do not; for many a young gentleman of sense and rank, has been led by his vanity

to keep such company, 'till he ha•• been degraded vilified and undone.

The vanity I mean is that of be∣ing the first of the company. This pride, tho' too common, is idle to the last degree. Nothing in the world lets a man down so much. For the sake of dictating, being applauded and admired by this low company, he is disgraced and disqualified for better. Depend upon it, in the es∣timation of mankind, you will sink or rise to the level of the company you keep.

Be it then, your ambition to get into the best company; and, when there imitate their virtues, but not their vices. You have, no doubt, often heard of genteel and fashionable vices. These are whorin••, drinking and gaming. It has happened that some men, even with these vices, have been admired and esteemed. Understand this matter rightly it is not their vices for which they are

admired; but for some accomplish∣ments they at the same time possess; for their parts their learning or their good-breading. Be assu•• were they free from their vices, they would be much more esteemed. In these mixed characters, the bad part is overlooked, for the sake of the good. Should you be unfortunate enough 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have any vices of your own, add not to their number by adopting the vices of others. Vices of adoption ••e of all others the most unpardon∣able, for they have not inadvertancy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plead. If people had no vices but their own, few would have so many 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they have.

Imitate, then, only the perfections they meet with; copy the politeness, the address, the easy manners of well bred people; and remember, let them shine ever so bright, if they have any vices they are so many blemishes, which it would be as ridiculous to imitate, as it would, to make an ar∣tificial

wart upon one's face, because some very handsome man had the misfortune to have a natural one upon his.

LAUGHTER

LET us now descend to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 matters, which tho' not so im∣portant to those we have mentioned, are still far from inconsiderable. Of these laughter is one.

Frequent and loud laughter is a sure sign of a weak mind, and no less characteristic of a low education. It is the manner in which low-bred men express their silly joy, at silly things, and they call it being merry.

I do not recommend upon all oc∣casions a sole 〈◊〉〈◊〉 countenance. A man may smile, but if he would be thought a gentleman and a man of sense, he would by no means laugh. True wit never made a man of fashion laugh; he is above it. It may create a smile, but as loud laughter shews, that a

••an has not the command of him∣self, every one, who would wish to appear sensible must abhor it.

A man's going to sit down, on a supposition that he has a chair behind ••m, and falling for want of one, ••ccasions a general laugh, when the left pieces of wit•• could not do it▪ a ••••fficient proof how low and unbe∣••ming laughter is.

Besides, could the imoderate laugh∣•• hear his own noise, or see the faces 〈◊〉〈◊〉 makes, he would despise himself for his folly. Laughter being gener∣••y supposed to be the effect of gaity, a absurdity is not properly attend∣••d to; but a little reflection will ••fily restrain it, and when you are ••ld, it is a mark of low breeding I persuade myself you will endeavour ••avoid it.

Some people have a silly trick of laughing, whenever they speak; so that they are always on the grin, and their faces ever distorted. This and

a thousand other tricks, such as scrath∣ing their heads, twirling their hats, fumbling with their button, playing with their fingers, &c. &c. are ac∣quired from a false modesty at their first outset in life. Being shame-faced in company, they try a variety of ways to keep themselves in counte∣nance; thus, they fall into those awk∣ward habits I have mentioned, which grow upon them, and in time become habitual.

Nothing is more repugnant like∣wise to good-breeding than horse play of any sort, romping, throwing things at one another's heads, and so on. They may pass well enough with the mob, but they lessen and degrade the gentleman.

SUNDRY LITTLE ACCOM∣PLISHMENTS.

I Have had reason to observe before, that various little matters, appa∣rently trifling in themselves, conspire

to form the whole of pleasing, as, in a well finished portrait, a variety of co∣lours combine to complete the piece. It not being necessary to dwell much upon them, I shall content myself, with just mentioning them as they occur.

1. to do the honours of a table gracefully, is one of the out-lines of a well-bred man; and to carve well, is an article, little as it may seem, that is useful twice every day, and the do∣ing of which ill, is not only trouble∣some to one's self, but renders us dis∣agreeable and ridiculous to others. We are always in pain for a man, who instead of cutting up a fowl gen∣••ely, is hacking for half an hour across the bone, greasing himself and bespattering the company with the sauce. Use with a little attention, is all that is requisite to acquit your∣self well in this particular.

2. To be well received, you must, also, pay some attention to your be∣haviour

at table, where it is exceed∣ingly rude to scratch any part of your body, to spit, or blow your nose, if you can possibly avoid it, to eat g••ily, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lean your elbows on the table, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your teeth before the dishes are removed, or to leave the table before grace is said.

3. Drinking of healths is now growing out of fashion, and is very unpolite in good company. Custom had once made it universal, but the improved manners of the age now render it vulgar. What can be more rude or ridiculous than to interrupt persons at their meals, with an unne∣cessary compliment? Abstain then from this silly custom where you find it out of use; and use it only at those tables where it continues general.

4. A••polite manner of refusing to comply with the solicitations of a com∣pany, is also very necessary to be learnt; for, a young man, who seems to have no will of his own, but does every

thing that is asked of him, may be a very good natured fellow, but he is a very silly one. If you are invited to drink, at any man's house, more than you think is wholesome, you may say,

you wish you could, but that so little makes you both drunk and sick; that you should only be bad company by doing it: of course beg to be excused.

If de∣sired to play at cards deeper than you would, refuse it ludiculously; tell them,

if you were sure to lose, you might possibly sit down; but that, as fortune may be favourable, you dread the thought of having too much money, ever since you sound what an incumbrance it was to poor Harlequin, and therefore you are resolved never to put your∣self in the way of wining more than such or such a sum a day.

This light way of declining invitati∣ons to vice and foolly is more be∣coming a young man than philoso∣phical

or sententious refusals, which would only be laughed at.

5. Now I am on the subject of cads, I must not omit mentioning the necessity of playing them well and genteely, if you would be thought to have kept good company. I would by no means recommend playing of cards as a part of your study, left you should grow too fond of it, and the consequences prove bad. It were better not to know a diamond from a club, than to become a gambler; but as custom has introduced inno∣cent card playing at most friendly meetings, it marks the gentleman to handle them genteely, and play them well; and as I hope you will play on∣ly for small sums, should you lose your money pray lose it with temper; or win, receive your winnings with∣out either elation or greediness.

6. To write well and correct, and in a pleasing stile, is another part of polite education. Every man who

has the use of his eyes and his right hand can write whatever hand he pleases. Nothing is so illiberal as a school-boy's scrawl. I would not have you learn a stiff formal hand∣writing, like that of a school-master, but a genteel, legible and liberal hand, and to be able to write quick. As to the correctness and elegancy of your writing, attention to grammar does the one, and to the best au∣thors, the other. Epistolary cor∣respondence should not be carried on in a studied or ••••fected style, but the language should flow from the pen, as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and as easi∣ly as it would from the mouth. In short a letter should be penned in the same stile, as you would talk to to your friend if he was present.

7. If writing well shews the gentle∣man, much more so does spelling well. It is so essentially necessary for a gentleman, or a man of letters, that

one false spelling may fix a ridicule on him for the remainder of his life. Words in books are generally well spelled, according to the orthogra∣phy of the age; reading, therefore, with attention, will teach every one to spell right. It sometimes happens that words shall be spelled differently by different authors: but if you spell them upon the authority of one, in estimation of the public, you will escape ridicule. Where there is but one way of spelling a word, by your spelling it wrong you will be sure to be laughed at. For a woman of a tolerable education would laugh at and despise her lover, if he wrote to her, and the words were ill spelled. Be particularly attentive then to your spelling.

8. There is nothing that a young man, at his first appearance in life, ought more to dread, than having any ridicule fixed on him. In the estima∣tion,

even of the most rational men, it will lessen him, but r••in him with all the rest. Many a man has been undone by a ridiculous nick-name. The causes of nick-names among well-bred men, are generally the little defects in manner, air, or ad∣dress. To have the appellation of ill-bred, awkward, muttering, left-legged, or any other tacked always to your name, would injure you more than you are aware of; avoid then these little defects (and they are easily avoided) and you need never fear a nick-name.

9. Some young men are apt to think, that they cannot be complete gentlemen, without becoming men of pleasure; and the rake they often mistake for the man of pleasure. A take is made up of the meanest and most disgraceful vices. They all con••ine to degrade his character and ruin his health and fortune. A man

of pleasure will refine upon the enjoyments of the age attend them with decency and partake of them becomingly. Indeed, he is too often less scrupulous than he should be, and frequently has cause to repent it. A man of pleasure, at best, is but a dissipated being, and what the rational part of man∣kind must abhor; I mention it, however, lest in taking up the man of pleasure, you should fall into the rake: for of two evils always chuse the least. A dissolute, flagitious foot-man may make as good a rake as a man of the first quality. Few men can be men of pleasure; every man may be a rake. There is a certain dignity that should be preserved in all our pleasures; in love a man may lose his heart, without losing his nose; at table a man may have a distin∣guishing palate, without being a glutton; he may love wine without

being a drunkard; he may game without being a gambler; and so on. Every virtue has its kindred vice, and every pleasure its neigh∣bouring disgrace. Temperance and moderation mark the gentleman; but excess the blackguard. Attend care∣fully, then, to the line that divides them; and remember, stop rather a yard short, than step an inch beyond it. Weigh the present enjoyment of your pleasures against the necessary consequences of them, and I will leave you to your own determination.

10. A gentleman has ever some regard also to the choice of his amuse∣••ents, if at cards, he will not be seen 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cribbage, all-fours, or putt; or, in sports of exercise, at skittles, foot∣••all, leap-frog, cricket, driving of ••aches, &c. but will preserve a propriety in every part of his conduct; ••owing that any imitation of the ••anners of the mob, will unavoid∣ably

stamp him with vulgarity. There is another amusement too, which I cannot help calling illiberal, that is, playing upon any musical instrument. Music is commonly reckoned one of the liberal arts, and undoubtedly is so; but to be piping or fiddling at a concert is degrading to a man of fashi∣on. If you love music, hear it; pay fiddlers to play to you, but never fiddle yourself. It makes a gentleman appear frivolous and contemptible, leads him frequently into bad com∣pany, and wastes that time which might otherwise be well employed.

11. Secresy is another cheracteris∣tic of good breeding. Be careful ne∣ver to tell in one company what you see or hear in another; much less to divert the present company at the expence of the last. Things apparent∣ly indifferent may when often repeat∣ed and told abroad, have much more serious consequences than imagined.

In conversation, there is generally a ••acit reliance, that what is said will not be repeated; and a man, though ••ot enjoined to secrecy, will be ex∣cluded company, if found to be a ••atler; besides, he will draw himself into a thousand scrapes, and every ••ne will be afraid to speak before him.

12. Pulling out your watch in com∣pany unasked, either at home or a∣broad is a mark of ill-breeding; if at home, it appears as if you were ••ired of your company, and wished them to be gone; if abroad as if the hours dragged heavily and you wished to be gone yourself. If you ••ant to know the time, withdraw; besides, as the taking what is called a French leave was introduced, that on one person's leaving the company the rest might not be disturbed, look∣ing at your watch does what that piece of politeness was designed to prevent; it is a kind of dictating to

all present, and telling them it is time, or almost time to break up.

13. Among other things, let me caution you against ever being in a hurry; a man of sense may be in haste but he is never in a hurry; con∣vinced that hurry is the surest way to make him do what he undertakes ill. To be in a hurry is a proof that the business we embark in is too great for us; of course it is the mark of little minds, that are puzzled and perplexed, when they should be cool and diliberate; they wish to do no∣thing. Be steady, then in all your engagments; look round you, before you begin; and remember that you had better do half of them well, and leave the rest undone, than to do the whole indifferently.

14. From a kind of false modesty, most young men are apt to consider familiarity as unbecoming. Forward∣ness I allow is so; but there is a de∣cent

familiarity that is necessary in the course of life. Mere formal visits, upon formal invitations are not the thing; they create no connection, nor will they prove of service to you; it is the careless and easy ingress and egress, at all hours, that secures an acquaintance to our interest, and this is acquired by a respectful familiarity entered into, without forfeiting your consequence.

15. In acquiring new acquaint∣ance, be careful not to neglect your ••ld, for a slight of this kind is seldom forgiven. If you cannot be with your former acquaintance so often as you used to be, while you had no others, take care not to give them cause to think you neglect them; call upon them frequently, though you cannot stay long with them; tell them you are sorry to leave them so soon, and nothing should take you away but certain engagements which good manners oblige you to attend

to; for it will be your interest to make all the friends you can, and as few enemies as possible. By friends, I would not be understood to mean confidential ones; but persons who speak of you respectfully, and who, consistent with their own interest, would wish to be of service to you, and would rather do you good than harm.

16. Another thing I must recom∣mend to you, as characteristic of a polite education, and of having kept good company, is a graceful manner of conferring favours. The most ob∣liging things may be done so awk∣wardly as to offend, while the most disagreeable things may be done so agreeably as to please.

17. A few more articles of general advice, and I have done; the first is on the subject of vanity. It is the common failing of youth and as such, ought to be carefully guarded against. The vanity I mean, is that which, if

given way to, stamps a man a cox∣comb, a character he will find a dif∣ficulty to get rid of perhaps as long as he lives. Now this vanity shews itself in a variety of shapes; one man shall pride himself in taking the lead in all conversations, and premptorily deciding upon every subject; an∣other, desirous of appearing success∣ful among the women, shall insinuate the encouragement he has met with, the conquests he makes, and perhaps boast of favors he never received: if he speaks truth he is ungenerous: if false, he is a villian: but whether true or false, he defeats his own pur∣poses, overthrows the reputation he wishes to erect, and draws upon him∣self contempt in the room of respect. Some men are vain enough to think they acquire consequence by alliance, or by an acquaintance with persons of distinguished character or abilities; hence they are etern ally talking of their grandfather, Lord such-a-one;

〈◊〉〈◊〉; their kinsman, Sir William such a one; or their intimate friend, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 such-a-one, with whom perhaps, they are scarce acquainted. If they are ever found out (and that they are sure to be, one time or other) they become 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and contemptible: but even a••••••••itring what they say to be true, what then? A man's intrinsic merit does not rise from an ennobled alli∣ance, or a reputable acquaintance. A rich man never borrows. When ang∣ling for praise, modesty is the surest bait, If we would wish to shine in any particular character, we must ne∣ver affect that character. An affecta∣tion of courage will make a man pass for a bully; an affectation of wit, for a coxcomb; and an affectation of sense, for a fool. Not that I would recommend bashfulness or timidity: no; I would have every one know his own value, yet not discover that he knows it, but leave his merit to be found 〈…〉〈…〉 others.

18. Another thing worth your at∣tention is, if in company with an inferior not to let him feel his inferi∣ority; if he discovers it himself with∣out your endeavours, the fault is not yours, and he will not blame you; but if you take pains to mortify him, or to make him feel himself inferior to you in abilities, fortune, or rank, it is an insult that will not readily be forgiven. In point of abilities, it would be unjust, as they are out of his power; in point of rank or for∣tune, it is ill natured and ill-bred. This rule is never more necessary than at table, where there cannot be a greater insult than to help an in∣ferior to a part he dislikes, or a part that may be worse than ordinary, and to take the best to yourself. If you at any time invite an inferior to your table, you put him during the time be is there, upon an eq••lity with you, and it is an act of the highest

rudeness to treat him in any respect, slightingly. I would rather double my attention to such a person, and treat him with additional respect, lest he should even suppose himself ne∣glected. There cannot be a greater favagness or cruelty, or any thing more degrading to a man of fashion than to put upon or take unbecom∣ing liberties with him, whose modesty humility or respect will not suffer him to retaliate. True politeness con∣sists in making every body happy about you; and as to mortify is to render unhappy, it can be nothing but the worst of breeding. Make it a rule, rather to flatter a person's vani∣ty than otherwise; make him if pos∣sible, more in love with himself, and you will be certain to gain his esteem; never tell him any thing he may not like to hear, nor say things that will put him out of countenance, but let it be your study on all occasions to please; this will be making friends

instead of enemies, and be a means of serving yourself in the end.

19. Never be witty, at the expence of any one present, nor gratify that idle inclination which is too strong in most young men, I mean laughing at or ridiculling the weaknesses or infirmities of others, by way of divert∣ing the company, or displaying your own superiority. Most people have their weaknesses their peculiar likings and aversions. Some cannot bear the sight of a cat; others the smell of cheese and so on; was you to laugh at these men for their anti∣pathies, or by design or inattention to bring them in their way, you could not insult them more. You may possibly thus gain the laugh on your side, for the present, but it will make the person, perhaps, at whose expence you are merry your enemy for ever after; and even those who laugh with you, will on a little reflec∣tion, fear you and probably despise

you; whereas to procure what one likes, and to remove what the other hates, would shew them that they were the objects of your attention, and possibly make them more your friends than much greater services would have done. If you have wit use it to please but not to hurt. You may shine, but take care not to scorch. In short, never seem to see the faults of others. Though among the mass of men there are doubtless, numbers of fools and knaves, yet were we to tell every one of these we meet with, that we know them to be so, we should be in perpetual war. I would detest the knave and pity the fool, wherever I found him, but I would let neither of them know unnecessa∣rily that I did so; as I would not be industrious to make myself enemies. As one must please others then, in order to be pleased oneself; consider what is agreeable to you, must be agreeable to them, and conduct your∣self accordingly.

20. Whispering in company is an∣ther act of ill-breeding! it seems to insinuate either that the persons whom we would not wish should hear, are unworthy of our con••idence, or it may lead them to suppose we are speaking improperly of them; on both accounts, therefore, abstain from it.

21. So pulling out one letter af∣ter another and reading them in company, or cutting and paring one's nails, is unpolite and rude. It seems to say, we are weary of the conversa∣tion, and are in want of some amuse∣ment to pass away the time.

22. Humming a tune to ourselves, drumming with our fingers on the table making a noise with our feet, and such like, are all breaches of good manners, and indications of our contempt for the persons present; therefore they should not be indulged.

23. Walking fast in the streets is a mark of vulgarity, implying hurry

of business; it may appear well in a mechanic or tradesmen, but suits ill with the character of a gentleman or a man of fashion.

24. Staring at any person you meet full in the face, is an act also of ill breeding; it looks as if you saw some∣thing wonderful in his appearance, and is therefore a tacit reprehension.

25. Eating quick, or very slow at meals, is characteristic of the vulgar, the first infers poverty, that you have not had a good meal for some time; the last if abroad, that you dislike your entertainment; if at home, that you are rude enough to set before your friends what you cannot eat yourself. So again, eating your soup with your nose in the plate is vulgar; it has the appearance of be∣ing used to hard work, and of course an unsteady hand. If it be necessary then to avoid this, it is much more so that of smelling your meat.

26. Smelling to the meat while on 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fork, before you put it in your ••outh. I have seen many an ill-bred ••low do this, and have been so an∣••y, that I could have kicked him ••m the table. If you dislike what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have upon your plate, leave it; ••t on no account, by smelling to, examining it, charge your friend ••th putting unwholsome provisions ••fore you.

27. Spitting on the carpet is a nasty practice, and shocking in a man of ••eral education. Was this to be∣••ne general, it would be as neces∣••y to change the carpets as the ••ble-cloaths; besides it will lead 〈◊〉〈◊〉 acquaintance to suppose that we ••e not been used to genteel furni∣••e; for this reason alone, if for no ••er, by all means avoid it.

28. Keep yourself free likewise ••m odd tricks or habits, such as ••rusting out your tongue continu∣••ly snapping your fingers, rubbing

your hands, sighing aloud, an affec∣ted shivering of your whole body, gaping with a noise like a country-fellow that has been sleeping in a hay-loft, or indeed with any noise, and many others, which I have no∣ticed before; these are imitations of the manners of the mob, and are degrading to a gentleman.

A very little attention will g••t the better of all these ill bred habits, and, be assured, you will find your accoun•• in it.

EMPLOYMENT of TIME.

EMPLOYMENT of time, is a subject, that from its importance, deserves your best attention. Most young gentlemen have a great deal of time before them, and one hour well employed, in the early part of life is more valuable and will be of greater use to you, than perhaps four and twenty, some years to come.

Whatever time you can steal from

company and from the study of the world; (I say company, for a know∣ledge of life is best learned in various companies) employ it in serious read∣ing. Take up some valuable book, and continue the reading of that book till you have got through it; never ••urden your mind with more than one thing at a time: and in read∣ing this book don't run over it super∣••cially, but read every passage twice ••wer, at least do not pass on to a second 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you thoroughly understand the first, nor quit the book till you are master of the subject; for unless you do this, you may read it through, and not re••ember the contents of it for a week. The books I would par∣ticulary recomm••end, among others, ••re, Cardinal Re••'s maxims, Roch∣••aucaults Moral Reflections, Bruyere's characters, Fontenell's plurality of worlds, Sir Josiah Child on Trade, Bolingbroke's works; for style, his Remarks on the history of England,

under the name of Sir John Old∣castle; Puffendorff's Jus Gentium, and Grotius de Ju•••• Belli et Pacis: the last two are well translated by By∣beyrac. For occasional half hours or less, read the best works of inven∣tion, wit and humour; but never waste your minutes on trifling au∣thors, either ancient or modern.

Anybusiness you may have to transact, should be done the first opportunity, and finished, if possible without in∣terruption; for by deferring it, we may probably finish it too late, or execute it indifferently. Now, busi∣ness of any kind should never be done by halves, but every part of it should be well attended to: for he that does business ill, had better not do it at all. And, in any point which discretion bids you pursue, and which has a manifest utility to recommend it, let not difficulties deter you; ra∣ther let them animate your industry. If one method fails try a second and

〈◊〉〈◊〉 third. Be active persevere and you will certainly conquer.

Never indulge a lazy disposition; there are few things but are attended with some difficulties, and if you are frightened at those difficulties, you will not complete any thing. Indo∣••ent minds prefer ignorance to trouble; they look upon most things as im∣possible because perhaps they are dif∣••icult. Even an hours attention is ••oo laborious for them, and they would rather content themselves with the first view of things, than take the trouble to look any farther into them. Thus, when they come to talk upon subjects to those who have studied them, they betray an unpar∣donable ignorance, and lay them∣selves open to answers that confuse them. Be careful then, that you do not get the appellation of indolent; and, if possible, avoid the character of frivolous. For,

The frivolous mind is always busied

upon nothing. It mistakes trifling objects for important ones, and spends that time upon little matters, that should only be bestowed upon ••••reat ones. Knick-nacks, butterflies, ••ells, and such like engross the at∣tention of the frivolous man, and fill up all his time. He studies the dress and not the characters of men, and his subjects of conversation are no other than the weather, his own domestic affairs, his servants, his me∣thod of managing his family, the little annecdotes of the neighbourhood, and the fiddle faddle stories of the day; void of information, void of improvement. These he relates with emphasis, as interesting matters; in short, he is a male gossip, I appeal to your own feelings now, whether such things do not lessen a man, in the opinion of his acquaintance, and instead of attracting esteem, create disgust.

DIGNITY OF MANNERS.

THERE is a certain dignity of manners, without which the very best characters will not be va∣lued.

Romping, loud and frequent laugh∣ing, punning, joking, mimickry, wag∣gery, and too great and indiscriminate familiarity, will render any one con∣temptible, in spite of all his know∣ledge or his merit. These may con∣stitute a merry fellow, but a merry fellow was never yet respectable. In∣discriminate familiarity, will either offend your superiors, or make you pass for their dependent or to••d eater, and it will put your inferiors on a degree of equality with you that may be troublesome.

A joke, if it carries a sting 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with it is no longer a joke, but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 front; and even if it has no 〈◊〉〈◊〉, unless its witticism is delicate and facetious, instead of giving pleasure, it will disgust; or if the 〈◊〉〈◊〉

should laugh, they will probably laugh at the jester rather than the jest.

Punning is a mere playing upon words, and sar from being a mark of sense: thus were we to say such a dress is commodious one of these wags would answer odious; or, that, whatever it has been, it is now be commodious. Others will give us an answer different from what we should expect, without either wit, or the least beauty of thought; as,

Where's my lord?—In his cloaths, unless he is in bed.

How does this wine "taste?"—A little moist, I think." How is this to be eaten?"

With your mouth;

and so on, all which (you will readily apprehend) is low and vulgar. If your witti••isms are not instantly approved by the laugh of the company, for heaven's sake, don't attempt to be witty for the fu∣ture; for you may take it for granted, the defect is in yourself, and not in your hearers.

As to a mimick or a wag, he is little else than a buffoon, who will distort his mouth and his eyes to make people laugh. Be assured, no one person ever demeaned himself to please the rest, unless he wished to be thought the Merry-Andrew of the company, and whether this character is respectable, I will leave you to judge.

If a man's company is coveted on any other account than his knowledge, his good sense, or his manners, he is seldom respected by those who invite him, but made use of only to enter∣tain. "Let's have such-a-one, for he sings a good song, or he is always joking or laughing;" or "Let's send for such a one, for he is a good bottle companion;" these are degrad∣ing distinctions, that preclude all respect and esteem. Whoever is had (as the phrase is) for the sake of any qualification singly, is merely that thing he is had for, is never consi∣dered in any other light, and, of

course, never properly respected, let his intrinsic merits be what they will.

You may possibly suppose this dig∣nity of manners to border upon pride; but it differs as much from pride, as true courage from blustering.

To flatter a person right or wrong, is abject flattery, and to consent rea∣dily to do every thing proposed by a company, be it silly or criminal is full as degrading as to dispute warmly upon every subject, and to contradict upon all occasions. To preserve dig∣nity, we should modestly assert our own sentiments, though we politely acquiesce in those of others.

So again, to support dignity of character, we should neither be frivo∣lously curious about trifles, nor be laboriously intent upon little objects that deserve not a moments attention; for this implies an incapacity in matters of greater importance.

A great deal likewise depends upon our air, address and expressions; an awkward address and vulgar expres∣sions;

infer either a low turn of mind, or low education.

Insolent contempt, or low envy, is incompatible also with dignity of manners. Low bred persons, fortu∣nately lifted in the world, in fine cloaths and fine equipages, will in∣solently look down on all those who cannot afford to make as good an appearance, and they openly envy those who perhaps make a better. They also dread the being slighted; of course are suspicious, and captious; are uneasy themselves and make eve∣ry body else so about them.

A certain degree of outward seri∣ousness in looks and actions gives dignity, while a constant smirk upon the face (that insipid silly smile, which fools have when they would be civil) and whiffling motions, are strong marks of futility.

But above all a dignity of charac∣ter is to be acquired best by a certain firmness in all our actions. A mean,

timid and passive complaisance lets a man down more than he is aware of: but still his firmness and resolution should not extend to brutality, but be acompanied with a peculiar and engaging softeness, or mildness.

If you discover any hastiness in your temper, and find it apt to break out into rough and unguarded expres∣sions, watch it narrowly, and endea∣vour to crub it; but let no com∣plaisance, no weak desire of pleasing, no wheedling urge you to do that which discretion forbids; but persist and persevere in all that is right. In your connections and friendships, you will find this rule of use to you. In∣vite and preserve attachments by your firmness: but labour to keep clear of enemies, by a mildness of behavi∣our. Disarm those enemies you may unfortunately have, (and few are without them) by a gentleness of manner, but make them feel the steadiness of your just resentment!

for there is a wide difference between bearing malice and a determined self∣defence; the one is imperious, but the other is prudent and justifiable.

In directing your servants, or any person you have a right to command; if you deliver your orders mildly, and in that engaging manner which every gentleman should study to do, you would be chearfully, and consequent∣ly well obeyed: but if tyrannically, you would be very unwillingly serv∣ed if served at all. A cool, steady determination should show that you will be obeyed, but a gentleness in the manner of enforcing that obedi∣ence should make service a chearful one. Thus will you be loved without being despised, and feared without be∣ing hated.

I hope I need not mention vices. A man who has patiently been kicked out of company, may have as good a pretence to courage, as one rendered infamous by his vices, may to digni∣ty

of any kind; however, of such consequence are appearances, that an outward decency and an affected dignity of manners will even keep such a man the longer from sinking. If therefore you should unfortunately have no intrinsic merit of your own, keep up, if possible, the appearance of it; and the world will possibly give you credit for the rest. A versa∣tility of manners is as necessary in social life, as a versatility of parts in political. This is no way blameable, if not used with an ill design. We must, like the cameleon, often put on the hue of the persons we wish to be well with: and it surely can never be blameable, to endeavour to gain the good will or affection of any one, if when obtained, we do not mean to abuse it.

RULES FOR CONVERSATION.

HAVING now given you full and sufficient instructions for making you well received in the best

of companies; nothing remains but that I lay before you some few rules for your conduct in such company. Many things on this subject I have mentioned before; but some few matters remain to be mentioned now.

Talk, then frequently but not long together, lest you tire the per∣sons you are speaking to; for few persons talk so well upon a subject, as to keep up the attention of their hearers for any length of time.

2. Avoid telling stories in com∣pany, unless they are very short in∣deed, and very applicable to the subject you are upon; in this case relate them in as few words as possible, without the least digression, and with some apology; as that you hate the telling of stories, but the shortness of it induced you. And, if your story has any wit in it, be parti∣cularly careful not to laugh at it yourself. Nothing is more tiresome

and disagreeable than a long tedious narrative; it betrays a gos∣siping disposition, and great want of imagination; and nothing is more ridiculous than to express an approbation of your own story, by a laugh.

3. In relating any thing, keep clear of repetitions or very hackneyed expressions, such as, says he, or says she. Some people will use these so often, as to take off the hearers attention from the story; as, in an organ out of tune, one pipe shall perhaps sound the whole time we are playing, and confuse the piece, so as not to be understood.

4. Digressions, likewise, should be guarded against. A story is always more agreeable without them. Of this kind are, "the gentleman I am telling you of, is the son of Sir Thomas, —who lives in Harley street;—you must know him—his brother had a horse that won the sweep stakes at the

last Newmarket meeting—Zounds! ••f you don't know him you know nothing." Or, "He was an upright tall old gentleman, who wore his own long hair: don't you recollect him?—All this is unnecessary; is very tiresome and provoking, and would be an excuse for a man's behaviour, if he was to leave us in the midst of our narrative.

5. Some people have a trick of holding the persons they are speaking to by the button, or the hand, in or∣der to be heard out; conscious, I suppose, that their tale is tiresome. Pray never do this: if the person you speak to is not as willing to hear your story, as you are to tell it, you had much better break off in the mid∣dle; for if you tire them once, they will be afraid to listen to you a second time.

6. Others have a way of punch∣ing the person they are talking to in the side, and at the end of every, sen∣tence,

asking him some such questions as the following:—"Wasn't I right in that?" "You know I told you so? What's your opinion?" and the like; or perhaps, they will be thrusting him, or jogging him with their elbow. For mercy's sake never give way to this: it will make your company dreaded.

7. Long talkers are frequently apt to single out some unfortunate man present; generally the most si∣lent one of the company, or proba∣bly him who sits next to him. To this man, in a kind of half whisper will they run on for half an hour to∣gether. Nothing can be more ill∣bred. But, if one of these unmerci∣ful talkers should attack you, if you wish to oblige him, I would recom∣mend the hearing him with patience: seem to do so at least, for you could not hurt him more than to leave him in the middle of his story, or discover any impatience in the course of it.

8. Incessant talkers are very disa∣greeable companions. Nothing can be more rude than to engross the con∣versation to yourself, or to take the words, as it were, out of another man's mouth. Every man in company has an equal claim to bear his part in the conversation, and to deprive him of it is not only unjust, but a tacit de∣claration that he cannot speak so well upon the subject as yourself; you will therefore take it up. And what can be more rude? I would as soon forgive a man that should stop my mouth when I was gaping, as take my words from me while I was speak∣ing them. Now, if this be unpar∣donable, it cannot be less so.

9. To help out or forestall the slow speaker, as if you alone were rich in expressions and he were poor. You may take it for granted, every one is vai•• enough to think he can talk w••ll, though he may modestly deny it; helping a person therefore out in his

expressions, is a correction that will stamp the corrector with impudence and ill manners.

10. Those who contradict others upon all occasions, and make every assertion a matter of dispute, betray by this behaviour an unacquaintance with good-breeding. He therefore who wishes to appear amiable with those he converses with, will be cau∣tious of such expressions as these, "That can't be true, Sir."

The affair is as I say.

That must be false, Sir.

If what you say is true,

&c. You may as well tell a man he lies at once, as thus indirect∣ly impeach his veracity. It is equal∣ly as rude to be proving every trifl∣ing assertion with a bet or wager. "I'll bet you fifty of it, and so on." Make it then a constant rule in mat∣ters of no great importance, complai∣santly to submit your opinion to that of others; for a victory of this kind often costs a man the loss of a friend.

11. Giving advice unasked is an∣other piece of rudeness; it is in effect, declaring ourselves wiser than those to whom we give it; reproaching them with ignorance and inexperi∣ence. It is a freedom that ought not to be taken with any common acquaintance, and yet there are those, who will be offended, if their advice is not taken. "Such-a-one." say they,

is above being advised. He scorns to listen to my advice;

as if it were not a mark of greater arro∣gance to expect every one to submit to their opinion than for a man some∣times to follow his own.

12. There is nothing so unpardon∣ably rude, as a seeming mattention to the person who is speaking to you; though you may met with it in o∣thers, by all means, avoid it yourself. Some ill-bred people, while others are speaking to them, will instead of looking at, or attending to them, perhaps fix their eyes on the ceiling,

or some picture in the room, look out of the window, play with a dog, their watch chain, or their cane, or probably pick their nails or their noses. Nothing betrays a more trifling mind than this; nor can any thing be a greater affront to the per∣son sp••aking; it being a tacit de∣claration, that what he is saying is not worth your attention. Consider with yourself how you would like such treatment, and I am persuaded you will never shew it to others.

13. Surliness or moroseness is in∣compatible also with politeness. Such as, should any one say

he was de∣sired to present Mr. Such a one's respects to you,

to reply,

What the devil have I to do with his re∣spects?

—

My Lord enquired after you lately, and asked how you did,

to answer,

if he wishes to know, let him come and feel my pulse;

and the like. A good deal of this often is affected; but whe∣ther

affected or natural; it is always offensive. A man of this stamp will occ••sionally be laughed at, as an od∣dity; but in the end, will be despised.

14. I should suppose it unnecess∣ary to advise you to adapt your con∣versation to the company you are in. You would not surely start the same subject; and discourse of it in the same manner with the old and with the young, with an officer, a ••rgyman, a philosopher, and a woman? No: your good sense will undoubtedly ••each you to be serious with the seri∣ous, gay with the gay, and to trifle with the triflers.

15. There are certain expressions which are exceedingly rude, and yet there are people of liberal education that sometimes use them; as

You don't understand me, sir.

It is not so.

"You mistake,"

You know nothing of the matter,

&c. Is it not better to say?

I believe, I do not express myself so as to be

understood.

Let us consider it

again, whether we take it right or not.

It is much more polite and amiable to make some excuse for an∣other, even in cases where he might justly be blamed, and to represent the mistake as common to both, ra∣ther than charge him with insensibili∣ty or incomprehension.

16. If any one should have pro∣mised you any thing and not have fullfiled that promise, it would be ve∣ry unpolite to tell him, he has for∣feited his word; or if the same per∣son should have disappointed you, upon any occasion, would it not be better to say, "you were probably so much engaged, that you forgot my affair; or, "Perhaps it slipped your memory; rather than,

You thought no more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it,

or

you pay ver•• 〈…〉〈…〉 to your word.

〈…〉〈…〉 this kind leave a 〈…〉〈…〉. They are a kind of 〈…〉〈…〉 and affront, and very often bring on lasting quarrels.

17. Be careful not to appear dark and mysterious, lest you should be thought suspicious; than which there cannot be a more unamiable charac∣ter. If you appear mysterious and reserved, others will be truly so with you; and in this case there is an end to improvement, for you will gather no information. Be reserved but never seem so.

18. There is a fault extremely common with some people which I would have you to avoid. When their opinion is asked, upon any subject, they will give it with so ap∣parent a diffidence and timidity, that one cannot, without the utmost pain, listen to them; especially if they are known to be men of universal know∣ledge.

Your lordship will pardon me,

says one of this stamp.

If I should not be able to speak to the case in hand, so well as might be wished.

—

I'll venture to speak of this matter to the best of

my poor abilities, and dulness of apprehension.

—

I fear I shall expose myself, but in obedience to your lordships commands,

— and while they are making these a∣pologies, they interrupt the business and tire the company.

19. Always look people in the face, when you speak to then other∣wise you will be thought conscious of some guilt; besides you lose the opportunity of reading their counte∣nances, from which you will much better learn the impression your dis∣course makes upon them than you can possibly do from their words; for words are at the will of every one, but the countenance is frequently in∣voluntary.

20. If in speaking to a person, you are not heard, and should be de∣sired to repeat what you said, do not raise your voice in the repetition, lest you should be thought angry, on being obliged to repeat what you had

said before; it was probably owing to the hearer's inattention.

21. One word only, as to swear∣ing. Those who adict themselves to it, and interlard their discourse with oaths, can never be considered as gentlemen; they are generally peo∣ple of low education, and are un∣welcome in what is called good com∣pany. It is a vice that has no temp∣tation to plead, but is, in every res∣pect, as vulgar as it is wicked.

22. Never accustom yourself to scandal, nor listen to it; for though i•• may gratify the malevolence of some people; nine times out of ten, it is attended with great disadvanta∣ges. The very persons you tell it to, will, on reflection, entertain a mean opinion of you, and it will of∣ten bring you into very disagreeable situations. And as there would be no evil speakers, if there were no evil hearers; it is in scandal as in robbery; the receiver is as bad as the thief.

Besides, it will lead people to shun your company, supposing that you will speak ill of them to the next acquaintance you meet.

23. Mimickry, the favourite a∣musement of little minds has been, ever the contempt of great one's. Never give way to it yourself, nor ever encourage it in others; it is the most illiberal of all buffoonery, it is an insult on the person you mimic; and insults, I have often told you are seldom forgiven.

24. Carefully avoid talking either of your own or other peoples domes∣tic concerns. By doing the one, you will be thought vain; by entering in∣to the other, you will be considered as officious. Talking of yourself is an impertinence to the company, your affairs are nothing to them; be∣sides they cannot be kept too secret. And as to the affairs of others, what are they to you? In talking of matters that no way concern

you, you are liable to commit blun∣ders, and should you touch any one in a sore part, you may possibly lose his esteem. Let your conversa∣tion then in mixed companies always be general.

25. Jokes, Bon-mots, or the little pleasantries of one company, will not often bear to be told in another; they are frequently local, and take their rise from certain circumstances, a second company may not be acquainted with; these circumstances, and of course your story may be misunderstood, or want explaining; and if after you have prefaced it with,—

I will tell you a good thing;

—the sting should not be immediately per∣ceived, you will appear exceedingly ridiculous, and wish you had not told it. Never then repeat in one place, what you hear in another.

26. In most debates, take up the favourable side of the question; how∣ever, let me caution you against be∣ing;

clamorous that is, never maintain an argument with heat, though you know yourself right; but offer your sentiments modestly and cooly, and if this does not prevail, give it up, and try to change the subject by say∣ing something to this effect;

I find we shall hardly convince one ano∣ther, neither is there any necessity to attempt it; so let us talk of something else.

27. Not that I would have you give up your opinion always: no, assert your own sentiments, and op∣pose those of others when wrong, but let your manner and voice be gentle and engaging and yet no ways affect∣ed. If you contradict, do it with, "I may be wrong, but — I won't be positive but I really think—I should rather suppose — If I may be permitted to say,"—and close your dispute with good humour, to shew that you are neither displeased ••ourself nor meant to displease the ••erson you dispute with.

28. Acquaint yourself with the character and situations of the com∣pany you go into, before you give a loose to your tongue; for should you enlarge on some virtue, which any one present may notoriously want; or should you condemn some vice, which any of the company may be particularly adicted to, they will be a••t to think your reflections pointed and personal, and you will be sure to give off••ce. This consideration will naturally lead you not to suppose things said in general, to be l••velled at you.

29. Low br•••• people, when they happen occasionally to be in go••d company, imagine themselves to be the subject of every separate conver∣sation. If any part of the company whispers, it is about them; if they laugh, it is at them; and if any thing is said which they do not compre∣head, they immediately suppose it is mean•• of them. This mistake is ad∣mirably ridicul•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 one of our cele∣brated

comedies.

I am sure, says Scrub, they were talking of me, for they laughed consumedly.

Now, a well-bred person never thinks himself disesteemed by the company, or laughed at, unless their reflections are so gross, that he cannot be sup∣posed to mistake them, and his ho∣nour obliges him to resent it in a proper manner; however, be assured, gentlemen never laugh at or ridicule one another, unless they are in joke, or on a footing of the greatest intima∣cy. If such a thing should happen once in an age, from some pert cox∣comb, or some flippant woman, it is best not to seem to know it, than make the least reply.

30. It is a piece of politeness not to interrupt a person in a story, whe∣ther you have heard it before or not. Nay, if a well-bred man is asked, whether he has heard it; he will an∣swer no, and let the person go on though he knows it already. Some are fond of telling a story, becaus••

they think they tell it well, others pride themselves in being the first teller of it, and others are pleased at being thought entrusted with it. Now, all these persons you would disappoint by answering yes. And, as I have told you before, as the greatest proof of politeness is to make every body happy about you, I would never de∣prive a person of any secret satisacti∣on of this sort, which I could gratify him by a minute's attention.

31. Be not asha••ed of asking que∣stions, if such questions lead to infor∣mation; always accompany them with some excuse, and you never will be reckoned impertinent, But, abrupt questions, without some apology, by all means avoid, as they imply design. There is a way of ••shing for facts, which, if done judiciously, will an∣swer every purpose, such as, taking things you wish to know for granted: this will perhaps lead some officious person to set you right. So again, by saying, you have heard so and so,

and sometimes seeming to know more than you do, you will often get at information, which you would lose by direct questions, as these would put people upon their guard, and frequently defeat the very end you aim at.

32. Make it a rule never to reflect on any body of people, for, by this means you will create a number of enemies. There are good and bad of all professions, lawyers, soldiers, par∣sons or citizens. They are all men, subject to the same p••ssions, differing only in their manner, according to the way they have been bred up in. For this reason it is unjust as well as indiscreet, to attack them as a corps collectively. Many a young man has though•• hi••self extremely clever in abusing the clergy. What are the clergy more than other men? Can you suppose a black gown can make any alteration in his nature? Fie, fie; think seriously and I am 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vinced you will never do it.

33. But above all, let no example, no fashion no witticism, no foolish desire of rising above what knaves call prejudices, tempt you to excuse, extenuate or ridicule the least breach of morality, but upon every occasion, ••hew the greatest abhorrence of such ••roceedings, and hold virtue and re∣••igion in the highest veneration.

34. It is a great piece of ill man∣••ers to interrupt any one while speak∣••g, by speaking yourself, or calling 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the attention of the company to ••ny foreign matter. But this every ••ild knows.

35. The last thing I shall menti∣••n is that of concealing your learning, ••cept on particular occasions. Re∣••ve this for learned men, and let ••em rather extort it from you, than ••u be too willing to display it. ••lence you will be thought modest, ••d to have more knowledge than 〈◊〉〈◊〉 really have. Never seem wise or ••re learned than the company you ••e in. He who affects to shew his

learning will be frequently question∣ed; and if found superficial, will be sneered at; if otherwise, he will be deemed a pedant. Real merit will always shew itself, and nothing can lessen it in the opinion of the world, but a man's exhibiting it himself.

For God's sake revolve all these things seriously in your mind, before you go abroad into life. Recollect the observations you have yourself oc∣casionally made upon men and thing•• compare them with my instruction•• and act wisely and consequentially, as they shall teach you.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Johnson's folio Dictionary vo•• will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 very serviceable, and the Difference bet•• words reputed sy••onimous; a work in two r••∣lumes written by me some years ago, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 published by D••dsley.