24. The third sort of good-breeding is local; and is variously modified, in not only different countries, but in different towns in the same country. But it must be founded upon the two former sorts: they are the matter; to which, in this case, fashion and custom only give the different shapes and impressions. Whoever has the two first sorts, will easily acquire this third sort of good-breeding, which depends singly upon attention and observation. It is properly the polish, the lustre, the last finishing strokes of good-breeding. A man of sense, therefore, carefully attends to the local manners of the respective places where he is, and takes for his models those persons, whom he observes to be at the head of the fashion and good-breeding.

25. He watches how they address themselves to their superiors, how they accost their equals, and how they treat their inferiors: and lets none of those little niceties escape him; which are to good-breeding, what the last delicate and masterly touches are to a good picture, and which the vulgar have no notion of, but by which good judges distinguish the master. He attends even to their airs, dress, and motions, and imitates them liberally, and not servilely; he copies, but does not mimic. These personal graces are of very great consequence. They anticipate the sentiments, before merit can engage the understanding: they captivate the heart, and give rise, I believe, to the extravagant notions of charms and philtres. Their effects were so surprising, that they were reckoned supernatural.

26. In short, as it is necessary to possess learning, honor and virtue, to gain the esteem and admiration of mankind, so politeness and good-breeding are equally necessary to render us agreeable in conversation and common life. Great talents are above the generality of the world; who neither possess them themselves, nor are competent judges of them in others; but all are judges of the lesser talents, such, as civility, affability, and an agreeable address and manner; because they feel the good effects of them, as making society easy and agreeable.

To conclude: be assured that the profoundest learning, without good-breeding, is unwelcome and tiresome pedantry; that a man who is not perfectly well-bred, is unfit for company, and unwelcome in it; and that a man, who is not well-bred, is full as unfit for business as for company.

Make, then, good-breeding the great object of your thoughts and actions. Observe carefully the behaviour and manners of those who are distinguished by their good-breeding; imitate, nay, endeavour to excel, that you may at least reach them; and be convinced that good-breeding is to all worldly qualifications, what charity is to all christian virtues. Observe how it adorns merit, and how often it covers the want of it.



Genteel Carriage.

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

2. 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 carriage and good-breeding, while sensible men have given disgust for want of it. There is something or other that prepossesses us at first sight in favor of a well-bred man, and makes us wish to like him.

3. When an aukward fellow first comes into a room, he attempts to bow, and his sword, if he wears one, gets between his legs, and nearly throws him down. Confused, and ashamed, 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 picking up his cane, down goes his hat again: thus 'tis a considerable time before he is adjusted.

4. When his tea or coffee is handed to him, he spreads his handkerchief upon his knee, scalds his mouth, drops either the cup or the saucer, and spills the tea or coffee in his lap. At dinner he is more uncommonly aukward: there he tucks his napkin through a button-hole, which tickles his chin, and occasions him to make a variety of wry faces; he seats himself on 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 different 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 again.

5. 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 clothes. He generally 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 with, "to your good health, Sir," and "my service to you;" perhaps coughs in his glass, and besprinkles the whole table. Further, he has perhaps a number of disagreeable tricks; he snuffs up his nose, picks it with his fingers, blows it; and looks in his handkerchief, crams his hands first in his bosom, and next in his breeches.

6. In short, he neither dresses nor acts like any other but is particularly aukward in every thing he does. All this, I own, has nothing in it criminal; but it is such an offence to good manners and good-breeding that it is universally despised; it makes a man ridiculous in every company, and, of course, ought carefully to be avoided by every one who would wish to please.

7. From this picture of the ill-bred man, you will easily discover that of the well-bred; for you may readily 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 habitual and familiar to you.

8. Actions, that would otherwise be pleasing, frequently become ridiculous by your manner of doing-them. If a lady drops her fan in company, the worst bred man would immediately pick it up, and give it to her; the best bred man can do no more; but then he does it in a graceful manner, which is sure to please; whereas the other would do it so aukwardly as to be laughed at.

9. You may also know a well-bred person by his manner of sitting. Ashamed and confused, the aukward man sits in his chair stiff and bolt upright, whereas the man of fashion is easy in every position; instead of lolling or lounging as he sits, he leans with elegance, and by varying his attitudes, shews that he has been used to good company. Let it be one part of your study, then, to learn to set genteely in different companies, to loll gracefully, where you are authorised to take that liberty, and to set up respectfully, where that freedom is not allowable.

10. In short, you cannot conceive how advantageous a graceful carriage and a pleasing address are, upon all occasions; 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 walk well unless he dances well. And in learning to dance be particularly attentive to the motion of your arms, for a stiffness in the wrist will make any man look aukward. If a man walks well, presents himself well in company, wears his hat well, moves his head properly and his arms gracefully, it is almost all that is necessary.

11. There is also an aukwardness in speech, that naturally falls under this head, and ought to, and may be guarded against; such as forgetting names and mistaking one name for another; to speak of Mr. What-d'ye-call him, or, You-know-who, Mrs. Thingum, What's-her-name, or, How-d'ye-call her, is exceedingly aukward and vulgar. 'Tis the same to address people by improper titles, as sir 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."

12. 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 understood, 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 faces so close to your's as to offend you with their breath.

13. All these habits are horrid and disgustful, but may easily be got the better of with care. They are the vulgar characteristics of a low-bred man, or are proofs that very little pains have been bestowed in his education. In short, an attention to these little matters is of greater importance than you are aware of; many a sensible man having lost ground for want of these little graces, and many a one possessed of these perfections alone, having made his way through life, that otherwise would not have been noticed.

Cleanliness of Person.

14. But as no one can please in company, however graceful his air, unless he be clean and neat in his person, this qualification comes next to be considered.

15. Negligence of one's person not only implies an unsufferable indolence, but an indifference whether we please or not. In others, it betrays an insolence and affectation, arising from a presumption that they are sure of pleasing, without having recourse to those means by which many are obliged to use.

16. He who is not thoroughly clean in his person, will be offensive to all he converses with. A particular regard to the cleanness of your mouth, teeth, hands and nails, is but common decency. 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 declaratory 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.

17. 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 foretells he has been laboriously and meanly employed, and too fatigued to clean himself: a good apology for want of cleanliness in a mechanic, but the greatest disgrace that can attend a gentleman.

18. These things may appear too significant to be mentioned; but when it is considered that a thousand little nameless things, which every one feels but no one can describe, conspire to form that whole of pleasing, I hope you will not call them trifling. Besides a clean shirt and a clean person are as necessary to health, as not to offend other people. It is a maxim with me, which I have lived to see verified, that he who is negligent at twenty years of age, will be a sloven at forty, and intolerable at fifty.

Dress.

19. Neatness of person I observed was as necessary as cleanliness; of course some attention must be paid to your dress.

Such is the absurdity of the times, that to pass well with the world, we must adopt some of its customs, be they ridiculous or not.

20. 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, your's, will displease them, as it would be tacitly taxing them with vanity, and declaring that you thought them not worth the respect which every body else does. And, as I have mentioned before, as it is the women who stamp a young man's credit in the fashionable world, if you do not make yourself agreeable to the women, you will assuredly lose ground among the men.

21. Dress, as trifling as it may appear to a man of understanding, prepossesses 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, argues a weakness of understanding, and nine times out of ten it will be found so.

22. There are few young fellows but what display some character or other in this shape. Some would be thought fearless and brave: these wear a black cravat, a short coat and waistcoat, an uncommon long sword hanging to their knees, a large hat fiercely cocked, and are flash all over. Others affect to be country squires; these will go about in buckskin breeches, brawn frocks, and great oaken cudgels in their hands, slouched hats, with their hair undressed and tucked up behind them to an enormous size, and imitate grooms and country boobies so well externally, that there is not the least doubt of their resembling them as well internally.

23. Others, again, paint and powder themselves so much, and dress so finically, as leads us to suppose they are only women in boy's clothes. Now a sensible man carefully avoids all this, or any other affectation. He dresses as fashionable and well as persons of the best families and best sense; if he exceeds them, he is a coxcomb; if he dresses worse, he is unpardonable.

24. Dress yourself fine, then, if possible, or plain, agreeable to the company you are in; that is, conform to the dress of others, and avoid the appearance 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 clothes well made, in the fashion, and to fit you, or you will, after all, appear aukward. 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.

25. Having mentioned elegance of person, I will proceed to elegance of expression.

It is not one or two qualifications alone that will complete the gentleman; it must be an union of many; and graceful speaking is as essential as gracefulness of person. Every man cannot be an harmonious speaker; a roughness or coarseness of voice may prevent it; but if there are no natural imperfections, if a man does not stammer 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.

26. Nobody can attend with pleasure to a bad speaker. One who tells his story ill, be it ever so important, will tire even the most patient. If you have been present at the performance of a good tragedy, you have doubtless been sensible of the good effects of a speech well delivered; how much it has interested and affected you; and on the contrary, how much an ill-spoken one has disgusted you.

27. 'Tis the same in common conversation; he who speaks deliberately, distinctly 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 ungrammatically, 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 to be attended to, as the subject matter itself.

28. People may talk what they will of solid reasoning and sound sense; without the graces and ornaments of language, they will neither please nor persuade. In common discourse, even trifles elegantly expressed, will be better received, than the best of arguments homespun and unadorned.

29. A good way to acquire a graceful utterance, is to read aloud to some friend every day, and beg of him to set you right, in case you read too fast, do not observe the proper stops, lay 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 distinctly; 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 attention to this, it will in a little time become easy and habitual to you.

30. 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 delivered.

Now, if it is necessary to attend so particularly to our manner of speaking, it is much more so with regard to the matter. Fine turns of expression, a genteel and correct style, are ornaments as requisite to common sense, as polite behaviour and an elegant address are to common good manners; they are great assistants in the point of pleasing. A gentleman, 'tis true, may be known in the meanest garb, but it admits not of a doubt, that he would be better received into good company genteely and fashionably dressed, than was he to appear in dirt and tatters.

31. 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 conversation and 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.

32. When you have said a thing, if you did not reflect before, be sure to do it after wards: consider with yourself whether you could not have expressed yourself better; and if you are in doubt of the propriety or elegancy of any word, search for it in some dictionary, or some good author, while you remember it; never be sparing of your trouble while you wish to improve, and my word for it, a very little time will make this matter habitual.

33. In order to speak grammatically, and to express yourself pleasingly, I would recommend it to you to translate often, any language you are acquainted with, into English, and to correct such translation till the words, their order, and the periods, are agreeable 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 vulgar, owing to their not being fashionable; for language as manners are both established for the usage of people of fashion.

34. The conversation of a low-bred man is filled up with proverbs and hackneyed sayings; instead of observing that tastes are different, and that most men have one peculiar to themselves, he will give you—"What is one man's meat is another man's poison;" or, "Every one to their liking, as the old woman said, when she kissed her cow." He has ever some favourite word, which he lugs in upon all occasions, right or wrong; such as vastly angry, vastly kind; devilish ugly, devilish handsome; immensely great, immensely little.

35. Even his pronunciation carries the mark of vulgarity along with it; he calls the earth yearth; finan' ces, fin' ances, he goes to wards, and not towards such a place. He affects to use hard words, to give him the appearance of a man of learning, but frequently mistakes their meaning, and seldom, if ever, pronounces them properly.

All this must be avoided, if you would not be supposed to have kept company with foot-men and house-maids. Never have recourse to proverbial 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.

Small-Talk.

36. In all good company we meet with a certain manner, phraseology and general conversation, that distinguishes the man of fashion. This can only be acquired by frequenting good company, and being particularly attentive to all that passes there.

37. 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 congratulation or condolence 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 cannot please without an union of them all.

38. There is a certain distinguishing diction that marks the man of fashion, a certain language of conversation that every gentleman should be master 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 unmeaning countenance, may be civil, but it is nevertheless vulgar. A man of fashion will express the same thing more elegantly, and with a look of sincerity, that shall attract the esteem of the person he speaks to. He will advance to the one, with warmth and cheerfulness, and perhaps squeezing him by the hand, will say, "Believe me, my dear sir, I have scarce words to express the joy I feel, upon your happy alliance with such or such a family, &c." To the other in affliction he will advance slowly, and with a peculiar composure of voice and countenance, begin his compliments of condolence with, "I hope, sir, you will do me the justice to be persuaded, that I am not insensible of your unhappiness, that I take part in your distress, and shall ever be affected where you are so."

39. Your first address to, and indeed all your conversation with your superiors, should be open, cheerful, and respectful; with your equals, warm, and animated; with your inferiors, hearty, free, and unreserved.

40. There is a fashionable kind of small-talk, which, however trifling it may be thought, has its use in mixed companies; of course you should endeavour to acquire it. By small-talk, I mean a good deal to say on unimportant matters: for example, foods, the flavour and growth of wines, and the chit-chat of the day. Such conversation will serve to keep off serious subjects, that might some time create disputes. This chit-chat is chiefly to be learned by frequenting the company of the ladies.



Observation.

1. As the art of pleasing is to be learnt only by frequenting the best companies, we must endeavour to pick it up in such companies, by observation; for, it is not sense and knowledge alone that will acquire esteem; these certainly are the first and necessary foundations for pleasing, but they will by no means do, unless attended with manners and attention.

There have been people who have frequented the first companies till their life-time, and yet have never got rid of their natural stiffness and aukwardness; but have continued as vulgar as if they were never out of a servant's hall: this has been owing to carelessness, and a want of attention to the manners and behaviour of others.

2. There are a great many people likewise who busy themselves the whole day, and who in fact do nothing. They have possibly taken up a book for two or three hours, but from a certain inattention that grows upon them the more it is indulged, know no more of the contents than if they had not looked into it; nay, it is impossible for any one to retain what he reads, unless he reflects and reasons upon it as he goes on. When they have thus lounged away an hour or two, they will saunter into company, 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 attending to the piece, the very thing they went to see.

3. In this manner they wear away their hours, that might otherwise he employed to their improvement and advantage. This silly suspension of thought they would have pass absence of mind—Ridiculous!—Wherever you are, let me recommend it to you to pay 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.

4. A continual inattention to matters 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 done well if not properly attended to. When I hear a man say, on being asked about any thing that was said or done in his presence, "that truly he did not mind it," I am ready to knock the fool down. Why did he not mind it?—What had he else to do?—A man of sense and fashion never makes use of this paltry plea; he never complains of a treacherous memory, but attends to and remembers every thing that is said or done.

5. 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 motions, 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.

1. 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 very disagreeable man. Lost in thought, or possibly in no thought at all, he is a stranger to every one present, and to every thing that passes; he knows not his best friends, is deficient in every act of good manners, unobservant of the actions of the company, and insensible to his own.

2. His answers are quite the reverse of what they ought to be; talk to him of one thing, he replies, as of another. He forgets what he said last, leaves his hat in one room, his cane in another, and his sword in a third; nay, if it was not for his buckles, he would even leave his shoes behind him. Neither his arms nor his legs seem to be a part of his body, and his head is never in a right position. He joins not in the general conversation, except it be by fits and starts, as if awaking from a dream; I attribute this either to weakness or affectation.

3. His shallow mind is possibly not able to attend to more than one thing at a time, or he would be supposed wrapt up in the investigation of some very important matter. Such men as Sir Isaac Newton or Mr. Locke, might occasionally have some excuse for absence of mind; it might 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.

4. However insignificant a company may be; however trifling their conversation; while you are with them, do not shew them by any 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 company with, is the greatest rudeness we can be guilty of; and what few can forgive.

5. I never yet found a man inattentive 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 declaration, 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 presence?—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 object what it will.



Knowledge of the World.

1. A knowledge of the world, by our own experience and observation, is so necessary, that without it we shall act very absurdly, and frequently 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 life, a man may say very good things, but time them so ill, and address them so improperly, that he had much better be silent. Full of himself and his own business, and inattentive to the circumstances and situations of those he converses with, he vents it without the least discretion, says things that he ought not to say, confutes some, shocks others, and puts the whole company in pain, lest what he utters next should prove worse than the last. The best direction I can give you in this matter, is, rather to fall in with the conversation of others, than start a subject of your own: rather strive to put them more in conceit with themselves, than to draw their attention to you.

2. A novice in life, he who knows little of mankind, but what he collects from books, lays it down as a maxim, that most men love flattery; in order therefore to please, he will flatter: but, how? Without regard either to circumstances or occasions. Instead of those delicate touches, those soft tints, that serve to heighten the piece, he lays on his colours with a heavy hand, and daubs where he means to adorn: in other words, he will flatter so unseasonably, and, at the same time, so grossly, that while he wishes to please he puts out of countenance and is sure to offend. On the contrary, a man of the world, one who has made life his study, knows the power of flattery as well as he; but then he knows how to apply it; he watches the opportunity, and does it indirectly, by inference, comparison and hint.

3. Man is made up of such a variety of matter, that, to search him thoroughly, requires time and attention; for, though we are all made of the same materials, and have all the same passions, yet, from a difference in their proportion and combination, we vary in our dispositions; what is agreeable to one is disagreeable to another, and what one shall approve, another shall condemn. Reason is given us to controul these passions, but seldom does it. Application therefore to the reason of any man will frequently prove ineffectual, unless we endeavour at the same time to gain his heart.

4. Wherever then you are, search into the characters of men; find out, if possible, their foible, their governing; passion, or their particular merit; take them on their weak side, and you will generally succeed: their prevailing vanity you may readily discover, by observing; their favourite topic of conversation, for every one talks most of what he would be thought most to excel in.

5. The time should also be judiciously made choice of. Every man has his particular times when he may be applied to with success, the mollia tempora fandi: but these times are not all the day long; they must be found out, watched, and taken advantage of. You could not hope for success in applying to a man about one business, when he was taken up with another, or when his mind was affected with excess of grief, anger, or the like.

6. You cannot judge of other men's minds better than by studying your own; for, though some men have one foible, and another has another, yet men, in general, are very much alike. Whatever pleases or offends you, will in similar circumstances, please or offend others; if you find yourself hurt when another, makes you feel his superiority, you will certainly, upon the common rule of right, do as you would be done by, take care not to let another feel your superiority, if you have it, especially if you wish to gain his interest or esteem.

7. If disagreeable insinuations, open contradictions, or oblique sneers vex and anger you, would you use them where you wished to please? certainly 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; he 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 can know but little how those sentiments or those passions will work; he must be ignorant of the various prejudices, propensities and antipathies, that always bias him and frequently determine him.

8. His knowledge is acquired only from theory, which differs widely from practice; and if, he forms his judgment from that alone, he must be often deceived; whereas a man of the world, one who collects his knowledge from his own experience 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 utttered, sees his actions before they are performed, knows what will please, and what will displease; and foresees the event of most things.

9. Labour then to require this intuitive 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 favour, 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 governed by persons very much their inferiors in point of understanding, and even without their knowing it? A proof that some men have more worldly dexterity than others; they find out the weak and unguarded part, make their attack there, and the man surrenders.

10. Now from a knowledge of mankind we shall learn the advantage of two things, the command of our temper and our countenance: a trifling, disagreeable incident shall perhaps anger one unacquainted withlife, or confound him with same; 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 coolness.

11. Many people have sense enough to keep their own secrets; but from being unused to a variety of company, have unfortunately such a tell-tale countenance, as involuntarily 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 evenness of countenance, which prevents a discovery of our sentiments, by our words, our actions, or our looks, is too necessary to pass unnoticed.

12. A man who cannot hear displeasing things, without visible marks of anger or uneasiness; or pleasing ones, without a sudden burst of joy, a cheerful 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 opportunity thus to read your very heart, when any other shall do it. You may possibly tell me, that this coolness must be natural, for if not, you can never acquire it.

13. 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 to utter a single word till your reason has recovered itself; and resolve to keep your countenance as unmoved as possible.

14. 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 these babbling countenances, will take care to profit by the circumstance, let the consequence, to him with whom he deals, be as injurious as it may.

15. 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 frequently 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 receiving an affront if you cannot be justified in knocking the offender down, you must not notice the offence; for in the eye of the world, taking an affront calmly is considered as cowardice.

16. If fools should at any time attempt to be witty upon you, the best way is not to know their witticisms are levelled 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 recommend, 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 seeming 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 proper reply, which I hope you will never be obliged to have recourse to.

17. Remember there are but two alternatives for a gentleman; extreme politeness, or the sword. If a man openly and designedly affronts you, call him oat; but if it does not amount to an open insult, be outwardly civil; if this does not make him ashamed of his behaviour, it will prejudice every by-stander in your favour, and instead of being disgraced, you will come off with honour. Politeness 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 understood to be things of course.

18. Wrangling and quarreling are characteristics of a weak mind: leave that to the women, be you always above it. Enter into no sharp contest, and pride yourself in shewing, if possible, more civility to your antagonist than to any other in the company; this will infallibly bring over all the laughter to your side, and the person you are contending with will be very likely to confess you have behaved very handsomely throughout the whole affair.

19. Experience will teach us that though all men consist principally of the same materials, as I before took notice, yet from a difference in their proportion, no two men are uniformly the same: we differ from one another, and we often differ from ourselves, that is, we sometimes do things utterly inconsistent with the general tenor of our characters. The wisest man will occasionally do a weak thing: the most honest man, a wrong thing; the proudest man, a mean thing; and the worst of men will sometimes do a good thing.

20. On this account, our study of mankind should not be general; we should take a frequent view of individuals, and though we may upon the whole form a judgment of the man from his prevailing passion or his general character, yet it will be prudent not to determine, till we have waited to see the operation of his subordinate appetites and humours.

21. For example; a man's general character maybe that of strictly honest; I would not dispute it, because I would not be thought envious or malevolent; but I would not rely upon this general character, so as to entrust him with my fortune or my life. Should this honest man, as is not common, be my rival in power, interest, or love, he may possibly do things that in other circumstances he would abhor; and power, interest, and love, let me tell you, will often put honesty to the severest trial, and frequently overpower it. I would then ransack this honest man to the bottom, if I wished to trust him, and as I found him, would place my confidence accordingly.

22. One of the great compositions in our nature is vanity, to which, all men, more or less, give way. Women have an intolerable share of it. So flattery, no adulation is too gross for them; those who flatter them most please them best, and they are most in love with him who pretends to be most in love with them; and the least slight or contempt of them is never forgotten. It is in some measure the same with men; they will sooner pardon an injury than an insult, and are more hurt by contempt than by ill-usage. Though all men do not boast of superior talents, though they pretend not to the abilities of a Pope, a Newton, or a Bollingbroke, every one pretends to have common sense, and to discharge his office in life with common decency; to arraign therefore, in any shape, his abilities or integrity in the department he holds, is an insult he will not readily forgive.

23. As I would not have you trust too implicitly to a man, because the world gives him a good character; so I must particularly caution you against those who speak well of themselves. In general, suspect those who boast of or affect to have any one virtue above all others, for they are commonly impostors. There are exceptions, however, to this rule, for we hear of prudes that have been made chaste, bullies that have been brave, and saints that have been religious. Confide only where your own observation shall direct you; observe not only what is said, but how it is said, and if you have penetration, you may find out the truth better by your eyes than your ears; in short, never take a character upon common report, but enquire into it yourself; for common report, though it is right in general, may be wrong in particulars.

24. Beware of those who, on a slight acquaintance, make a tender of their friendship, and seem to place a confidence in you; 'tis ten to one but they deceive and betray you: however, do not rudely reject them upon such a supposition; you may be civil to them, though you do not entrust them. Silly men are apt to solicit your friendship, and unbosom themselves upon the first acquaintance: such friends cannot be worth hearing, their friendship being as slender as their understanding; and if they proffer their friendship with a design to make a property of you, they are dangerous acquaintance indeed.

25. Not but the little friendships of the weak may be of some use to you, if you do not return the compliment; and it may not be amiss to seem to accept those of designing men, keeping them, as it were, in play, that they may not be openly your enemies; for their enmity is the next dangerous thing to their friendship. We may certainly hold their vices in abhorrence, without being marked out as their personal enemy. The general rule is to have a real reserve with almost every one, and a seeming reserve with almost no one; for it is very disgusting to seem reserved, and very dangerous not to be so. Few observe the true medium. Many are ridiculously misterious upon trifles and many indiscreetly communicative of all they know.

36. There is a kind of short-lived friendship that takes place among young men, from a connection in their pleasures only; a friendship too often attended with bad consequences. This companion of your pleasures, young and unexperienced, will probably, in the heat of convivial mirth, vow a perpetual friendship, and unfold himself to you without the least reserve; but new associations, change of fortune, or change of place, may soon break this ill-timed connection, and an improper use may be made of it.

27. Be one, if you will, in young companies, and bear your part like others in the social festivity of youth; nay, trust them with your innocent frolics, 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 different 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 shall doubt his veracity; for when he takes such pains to make me believe it, it cannot be with a good design.

28. 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 unguarded 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 terminates in their loss, and frequently in their ruin. Beware, therefore, as I said before, of these proffered friendships; 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 create a friendship; it will not thrive, unless its love be mutual; and it requires time to ripen it.

29. There is still among young people another kind of friendship merely nominal, warm indeed for the 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 another all they know, they embark in the same quarrels, and stand by each other on all occasions. I should rather call this a confederacy against good morals and good manners, and think it deserves the severest lash of the law; but they have the impudence to call it friendship. However, it is often as suddenly dissolved as it is hastily contracted; some accident disperses them, and they presently forget each other, except it is to betray and laugh at their own egregious folly.

In short, the sum of the whole is, to make a wide difference between companions and friend; for a very agreeable companion has often proved a very dangerous friend.



Choice of Company.

1. 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 company of your superiors: for you will be held in estimation according to the company you keep. By superiors I do not mean so much with regard to birth, as merit and the light in which they are considered by the world.

2. There are two sorts of good company; 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 science; as men of letters, &c. and a mixture of these 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 acknowledge to be so, and are the accredited good company of the place.

3. Now and then, persons without either birth, rank, or character, will creep into good company, under the protection of some considerable personage; but, in general, none are admitted of mean degree, or infamous 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 whether a man has it always in his power to get into good company: undoubtedly, by deserving it, he has; provided he is in circumstances which enable him to live and appear in the style of a gentleman. Knowledge, modesty, and good-breeding, will endear him to all that see him; for without politeness, the scholar is no better than a pedant, the philosopher than a cynic, the soldier than a brute, nor any man than a clown.

4. 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 sometimes, and you will be the more esteemed in other company by being so; but let it not engross you, lest you be considered as one of the literati, which, however respectable in name, is not the way to rise or shine in the fashionable world.

5. But the company, which, of all others, you should carefully avoid, is that, which, in every sense of the word, may be called low; low in birth, low in rank, low in parts, and low in manners; that company, who, insignificant and contemptible in themselves, think it an honour to be seen with you, and who will flatter your follies, nay, your very vices, to keep you with them.

6. 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 has been degraded, villified and undone.

The vanity I mean, is that of being the first of the company. This pride, though 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 estimation of mankind you will sink or rise to the level of the company you keep.

7. 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 whoring, 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 accomplishments they at the same time possess; for their parts, their learning, or their good-breeding. Be assured, 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.

8. Should you be unfortunate enough to have any vices of your own, add not to their number by adopting the vices of others. Vices of adoption are of all others the most unpardonable, for they have not inadvertency to plead. If people had no vices but their own, few would have so many as they have.

Imitate, then, only the perfections you 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 artificial wart on one's face, because some very handsome man had the misfortune to have a natural one upon his.



Laughter.

1. Let us now descend to minuter matters, which, tho' not so important as 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.

2. I do not recommend upon all occasions a solemn 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 yet made a man of fashion laugh; he is above it. It may create a smile; but as loud laughter shews that a man has not the command of himself, every one who would with to appear sensible, must abhor it.

A man's going to set down, on a supposition that he has a chair behind him, and falling for want of one, occasions a general laugh, when the best piece of wit would not do it: a sufficient proof how low and unbecoming laughter is.

3. Besides, could the immoderate laugher hear his own noise, or see the face he makes, he would despise himself for his folly. Laughter being generally supposed to be the effect of gaity, its absurdity is not properly attended to; but a little reflection will easily restrain it, and when you are told it is a mark of low-breeding, I persuade myself you will endeavour to avoid it.

4. Some people have a silly trick of laughing whenever they speak, so that they are always on the grin, and their faces are ever distorted. This and a thousand other tricks, such as scratching their heads, twirling their hats, fumbling with their button, playing with their fingers, &c. are acquired from a false modesty at their first out-set in life. Being shame-faced in company, they try a variety of ways to keep themselves in countenance; thus, they fall into those awkward habits I have mentioned, which grow upon them, and in time become habitual.

Nothing is more repugnant likewise 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 Accomplishments.

1. I have had reason to observe before, that various little matters, apparently trifling in themselves, conspire to form the whole of pleasing, as in a well-finished portrait, a variety of colours 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.

2. To do the honours of a table gracefully, is one of the outlines 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 doing of which ill is not only troublesome to one's self, but renders us disagreeable and ridiculous to others. We are always in pain for a man who, instead of cutting up a fowl genteelly, 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 yourself well in this particular.

3. To be well received, you must also pay some attention to your behaviour at table, where it is exceedingly rude to scratch any part of your body; to spit, or blow your nose, if you can possibly avoid it, to eat greedily, to lean your elbows on the table, to pick your teeth before the dishes are removed, or to leave the table before grace is said.

4. Drinking of healths is now growing out of fashion, and is very unpolite in good company. Custom once had 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 unnecessary 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.

5. A polite manner of refusing to comply with the solicitations of a company, 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 shall only be bad company by doing it: of course beg to be excused."

6. If desired to play at cards deeper than you would, refuse it ludicrously; 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 found what an incumbrance it was to poor Harlequin, and therefore you are resolved never to put yourself in the way of winning more than such and such a sum a day." This light way of declining invitations to vice and folly, is more becoming a young man, than philosophical or sententious refusals, which would only be laughed at.

7. Now I am on the subject of cards, I must not omit mentioning the necessity of playing them well and genteelly, if you would be thought to have kept good company. I would by no means recommend playing at cards as a part of your study, lest 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 innocent card playing at most friendly meetings, it marks the gentleman to handle them genteelly, and play them well; and as I hope you will play only for small sums, should you lose your money pray lose it with temper: or win, receive your winnings without either elation or greediness.

8. To write well and correct, and in a pleasing style, 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 authors, the other. Epistolary correspondence should not be carried on in a studied or affected style, but the language should flow from the pen, as naturally and as easily as it would from the mouth. In short, a letter should be penned in the same style as you would talk to your friend, if he was present.

9. If writing well shews the gentleman, 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 orthography 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.

10. There is nothing that a man at his first appearance in life ought more to dread than having any ridicule fixed on him. In the estimation even of the most rational men, it will not only lessen him, but ruin 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 address. To have the appellation of ill-bred, aukward, 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.

11. Some young men are apt to think, that they cannot be complete gentlemen, without becoming men of pleasure. A rake is made up of the meanest and most disgraceful vices. They all combine 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.

12. 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 mankind most 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 footman may make as good a rake as a man of the first quality. Few man can be men of pleasure; every man may be a rake.

13. 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 distinguished palate, without being a glutton; he may love wine without being a drunkard; he may game without being a gambler, and so on.

14. Every virtue has its kindred vice, and every pleasure its neighbouring disgrace. Temperance and moderation mark the gentleman, but excess the blackguard. Attend carefully, 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.

15. A gentleman has ever some regard also to the choice of his amusements. If at cards, he will not be seen at cribbage, all-fours, or putt; or, in sports of exercise, at skittles, foot-ball, leap-frog, cricket, driving of coaches, &c. but will preserve a propriety in every part of his conduct; knowing, that any imitation of the manners of the mob, will unavoidably stamp him with vulgarity. There is another amusement too, which I cannot help calling illiberal, that is, playing upon any musical instrument.

16. 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 fashion. 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 company, and wastes that time which might otherwise be well employed.

17. Secrecy is another characteristic of good-breeding. Be careful not to tell in one company, what you see or hear in another; much less to divert the present company at the expense of the last. Things apparently indifferent may, when often repeated and told abroad, have much more serious consequences than imagined. In conversation there is generally a tacit reliance, that what is said will not be repeated; and a man, though not enjoined to secrecy, will be excluded company, if found to be a tattler; besides, he will draw himself into a thousand scrapes, and every one will be afraid to speak before him.

18. Pulling out your watch in company unasked, either at home or abroad, is a mark of ill-breeding; if at home, it appears as if you were tired of your company, and wished them to be gone; if abroad, as if the hours drag heavily, and you wished to be gone yourself. If you want 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, looking 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.

19. 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; convinced, 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 deliberate; they wish to do every thing at once, and are thus able to do nothing. Be steady, then, in all your engagements; 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.

20. From a kind of false modesty, most young men are apt to consider familiarity as unbecoming. Forwardness I allow is so; but there is a decent 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.

21. In acquiring new acquaintance, be careful not to neglect your old, 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 obliged you to attend to; for it will be your interest to make all the friends you can, and as few enemies as possible.

22. 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.

Another thing I must recommend to you, as characteristic of a polite education, and of having kept good company, is a graceful manner of conferring favours. The most obliging things may be done so aukwardly as to offend, while the most disagreeable things may be done so agreeable as to please.

23. 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 coxcomb, a character he will find a difficulty 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 peremptorily deciding upon every subject; another, desirous of appearing successful among the women, shall insinuate the encouragement he has met with, the conquests he makes, and perhaps boasts of favours he never received; if he speaks the truth, he is ungenerous; if false, he is a villain; but whether true or false, he defeats his own purposes, overthrows the reputation he wishes to erect, and draws upon himself contempt in the room of respect.

24. 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 eternally taking of their grand-father, Lord such-a-one; their kinsman, Sir William such-a-one; or their intimate friend, Dr. 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 ridiculous and contemptible; but even admitting what they say to be true, what then? A man's intrinsic merit does not arise from an ennobled alliance, or a reputable acquaintance.

25. A rich man never borrows. When angling for praise, modesty is the surest bait. If we would wish to shine in any particular character, we must never affect that character. An affectation 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 out by others.

26. Another thing worth your attention is, if in company with an inferior, not to let him feel his inferiority; if he discovers it himself without 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 fortune, it is ill-natured and ill-bred.

27. This rule is never more necessary than at table, where there cannot be a greater insult than to help an inferior 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 he is there upon an equality 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 neglected.

28. There cannot be a greater savageness or cruelty, or any thing more degrading to a man of fashion, than to put upon, or take unbecoming liberties with him, whose modesty, humility, or respect, will not suffer him to retaliate. True politeness consists 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 vanity than otherwise; make him, if possible, 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.

29. Never be witty at the expense of any one present, to gratify that idle inclination which is too strong in most young men, I mean, laughing at, or ridiculing the weaknesses or infirmities of others, by way of diverting 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 those men for their antipathies, or by design or inattention to bring them in their way, you could not insult them more.

30. You may possibly thus gain the laugh on your side for the present, but it will make the person, perhaps, at whose expense you are merry, your enemy for ever after; and even those who laugh with you, will, on a little reflection, 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 objects of your attention, and possibly make them more your friends than much greater services would have done.

31. 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 knew 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 unnecessarily 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 one's self, consider what is agreeable to you must be agreeable to them, and conduct yourself accordingly.

32. Whispering in company is another act of ill-breeding; it seems to insinuate either that the persons whom we would not wish should hear, are unworthy of our confidence, or it may lead them to suppose we are speaking improperly of them; on both accounts, therefore, abstain from it.

So pulling out one letter after another, and reading them in company, or cutting or pairing one's nails, is unpolite and rude. It seems to say, we are weary of the conversation, and are in want of some amusement to pass away the time.

33. 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 hot be indulged.

Walking fast in the streets is a mark of vulgarity, implying hurry of business; it may appear well in a mechanic or tradesman, but suits ill with the character of a gentleman or a man of fashion.

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

34. 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 soups with your nose in the plate, is vulgar; it has the appearance of being used to hard work; and of course an unsteady hand.



Dignity of Manners.

1. A certain dignity of manners is absolutely necessary, to make even the most-valuable character either respected or respectable in the world.

Horse-play, romping, frequent and loud fits of laughter, jokes, waggery, and indiscriminate familiarity, will sink both merit and knowledge into a degree of contempt. They compose at most a merry fellow, and a merry fellow was never yet a respectable man. Indiscriminate familiarity either offends your superiors, or else dubs you their dependent and led captain. It gives your inferiors just, but troublesome and improper claims to equality. A joker is near a-kin to a buffoon; and neither of them is the least related to wit.

2. Mimicry, the favorite amusement of little minds, has been ever the contempt of great ones. 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.

As to a mimic 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.

3. 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 entertain—"Let's have such a one, for he sings a good song, for he is always joking or laughing;" or, "let's send for such a one, for he is a good bottle companion;" these are degrading 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 considered in any other light, and, of course, never properly respected, let his intrinsic merits be what they will.

4. You may possibly suppose this dignity 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 readily to 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 dignity, 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 frivolously curious about trifles, nor be laboriously intent on little objects that deserve not a moment's attention; for this implies an incapacity in matters of greater importance.

A great deal likewise depends upon our air, address, and expressions; an aukward address and vulgar expressions, infer either a low turn of mind, or a low education.

5. Insolent contempt, or low envy, is incompatible also with dignity of manners. Low-bred persons, fortunately lifted in the world, in fine clothes and fine equipages, will insolently 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 every body else so about them.

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

But above all, a dignity of character 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 or resolution should not extend to brutality, but be accompanied with a peculiar and engaging softness, or mildness.

7. If you discover any hastiness in your temper, and find it apt to break out into rough and unguarded expressions, watch it narrowly, and endeavour to curb it; but let no complaisance, no weak desire of pleasing, no weedling, 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. Invite and preserve attachments by your firmness; but labour to keep clear of enemies by a mildness of behaviour. 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.

8. 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 will be cheerfully, and, consequently, well obeyed: but if tyrannically, you would be very unwillingly served, if served at all. A cool, steady determination should shew that you will be obeyed, but a gentleness in the manner of enforcing that obedience should make service a cheerful one. Thus will you be loved without being despised, and feared without being hated.

9. 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 dignity 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 versatility of manner 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, then, 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.

1. Jack Lizard was about fifteen when he was first entered in the university, and being a youth of a great deal of fire, and a more than ordinary application to his studies; it gave his conversation a very particular turn. He had too much spirit to hold his tongue in company; but at the same time so little acquaintance with the world, that he did not know how to talk like other people.

2. After a year and a half's stay at the university, he came down among us to pass away a month or two in the country. The first night after his arrival, as we were at supper, we were all of us very much improved by Jack's table-talk. He told us, upon the appearance of a dish of wild-fowl, that according to the opinion of some natural philosophers, they might be lately come from the moon.

3. Upon which the Sparkler bursting out into a laugh, he insulted her with several questions, relating to the bigness and distance of the moon and stars; and after every interrogatory would be winking upon me, and smiling at his sister's ignorance. Jack gained his point; for the mother was pleased, and all the servants stared at the learning of their young master. Jack was so encouraged at this success, that for the first week he dealt wholly in paradoxes. It was a common jest with him to pinch one of his sister's lap-dogs, and afterwards prove he could not feel it.

4. When the girls were sorting a set of knots, he would demonstrate to them that all the ribbons were of the same colour; or rather, says Jack, of no colour at all. My Lady Lizard herself, though she was not a little pleased with her son's improvements, was one day almost angry with him; for, having accidentally burnt her fingers as she was lighting her lamp for her tea-pot, in the midst of her anguish, Jack laid hold of the opportunity to instruct her that there was no such thing as heat in fire. In short, no day passed over our heads, in which Jack did not imagine he made the whole family wiser than they were before.

5. That part of his conversation which gave me the most pain, was what passed among those country gentlemen that came to visit us. On such occasions Jack usually took upon him to be the mouth of the company; and thinking himself obliged to be very merry, would entertain us with a great many odd sayings and absurdities of their college cook. I found this fellow had made a very strong impression upon Jack's imagination, which he never considered was not the case of the rest of the company, till after many repeated trials he found that his stories seldom any body laugh but himself.

6. I all this while looked upon Jack as a young tree shooting out into blossoms before its time; the redundancy of which, though it was a little unseasonably, seemed to foretell an uncommon fruitfulness.

In order to wear out the vein of pedantry, which ran through his conversation, I took him out with me one evening, and first of all insinuated to him this rule, which I had myself learned from a very great author, "To think with the wise, but talk with the vulgar," Jack's, good sense soon made him reflect that he had exposed himself to the laughter of the ignorant by a contrary behaviour; upon which he told me, that he would take care for the future to keep his notions to himself, and converse in the common received sentiments of mankind.

7. He at the same time desired me to give him any other rules of conversation, which I thought might he for his improvement. I told him I would think of it; and accordingly, as I have a particular affection for the young man, I gave him the next morning the following rules in writing, which may, perhaps, have contributed to make him the agreeable man he now is.

8. The faculty of interchanging our thoughts with one another, or what we express by the word conversation, has always been represented by moral writers, as one of the noblest privileges of reason, and which more particularly sets mankind above the brute part of the creation.

Though nothing so much gains upon the affections as this extempore eloquence, which we have constantly occasion for, and are obliged to practice every day, we very rarely meet with any who excel in it.

9. The conversation of most men is disagreeable, not so much for want of wit and learning, as of good-breeding and discretion.

It is not in every man's power, perhaps, to have fine parts, say witty things, or tell a story agreeably; but every man may be polite if he pleases, at least to a certain degree. Politeness has infinitely more power to make us esteemed, and our company sought after, than the most extraordinary parts or attainments we can be master of. These seldom fail to create envy, and envy has always some ill will in it.

10. If you resolve to please never speak to gratify any particular vanity or passion of your own, but always with a design either to divert or inform the company. A man who only aims at one of these, is always easy in his discourse. He is never out of humour at being interrupted, because he considers that those who hear him are the best judges whether what he was saying would either divert or inform him.

A modest person seldom fails to gain the good will of those he converses with, because nobody envies a man who does not appear to be pleased with himself.

11. We should talk extremely little of ourselves. Indeed what can we say? It would be as imprudent to discover faults, as ridiculous to count over our fancied virtues. Our private and domestic affairs are no less improper to be introduced in conversation. What does it concern the company how many horses you keep in your stables? or whether your servant is most knave or fool?

12. A man may equally affront the company he is in, by engrossing all the talk, or observing a contemptuous silence.

Conform yourself to the taste, character, and present humours of the persons you converse with; not but a person must follow his talent in conversation. Do not force nature; no one ever did it with success.

If you have not a talent for humour, or raillery, or story-telling, never attempt them.

13. Contain yourself also within the bounds of what you know; and never talk of things you are ignorant of, unless it be with a view to inform yourself. A person cannot fail in the observance of this rule, without making himself ridiculous; and yet how often do we see it transgressed! Some, who on war or politics could talk very well, will be perpetually haranguing on works of genius and the belles letters; others who are capable of reasoning, and would make a figure in grave discourse, will yet constantly aim at humour and pleasantry, though with the worst grace imaginable. Hence it is, that we see a man of merit sometimes appear like a coxcomb, and hear a man of genius talk like a fool.

14. Before you tell a story, it may be generally not amiss to draw a short character, and give the company a true idea of the principal persons concerned in it; the beauty of most things consisting not so much in their being said or done, as in their being said or done by such a particular person; or on such a particular occasion.

15. Notwithstanding all the advantages of youth, few young people please in conversation: the reason is, that want of experience makes them positive, and what they say, is rather with a design to please themselves, than any one else.

It is certain that age itself shall make many things pass well enough, which would have been laughed at in the mouth of one much younger.

16. Nothing, however, is more insupportable to men of sense, than an empty formal man who speaks in proverbs, and decides all controversies with a short sentence. This piece of stupidity is the more insufferable, as it puts on the air of wisdom.

Great talents for conversation requires to be accompanied with great politeness. He who eclipses others, owes them great civilities; and whatever a mistaken vanity may tell us, it is better to please in conversation, than to shine in it.

17. A prudent man will avoid talking much of any particular science, for which he is remarkably famous. There is not, methinks, an handsomer thing said of Mr. Cowley in his whole life, than, that none but his intimate friends ever discovered he was a great poet by his discourse. Besides the decency of this rule, it is certainly founded in good policy. A man who talks of any thing he is already famous for, has little to get, but a great deal to lose.

18. I might add, that he who is sometimes silent on a subject, where everyone is satisfied he would speak well, will often be thought no less knowing in any other matters where, perhaps, he is wholly ignorant.

Women are frightened at the name of argument, and are sooner convinced by an happy turn, or, witty expression, than by demonstration.

19. Whenever you commend, add your reasons for so doing; it is this which distinguishes the approbation of a man of sense, from the flattery of sycophants, and admiration of fools.

Raillery is no longer agreeable, than while the whole company is pleased with it. I would least of all be understood to except the person raillied.

20. Though good-humour, sense, and discretion, can seldom fail to make a man agreeable, it may be no ill policy sometimes to prepare yourself in a particular manner for conversation, by looking a little farther than your neighbours into whatever is become a reigning subject. If our armies are besieging a place of importance abroad, or our House of Commons debating a bill of consequence at home, you can hardly fail of being heard with pleasure, if you have nicely informed yourself of the strength, situation and history of the first, or of the reasons for and against the latter.

21. It will have the same effect if, when any single person begins to make a noise in the world, you can learn some of the smallest accidents in his life or conversation, which, though they are too fine for the observation of the vulgar, give more satisfaction to men of sense, (as they are the best openings to a real character) than the recital of his most glaring actions. I know but one ill consequence to be feared from this method, namely, that coming full charged into company, you should resolve to unload, whether an handsome opportunity offers itself or no.

22. The liberal arts, though they may possibly have less effect on our external mein and behaviour, make so deep an impression on the mind, as is very apt to bend it wholly one way.

The mathematician will take little less than demonstration in the most common discourse; and the schoolman is as great a friend to definitions and syllogisms. The physician and divine are often heard to dictate in private companies with the same authority which they exercise over their patients and disciples; while the lawyer is putting cases, and raising matter for disputation, out of every thing that occurs.

23. Though the asking of questions may plead for itself the spacious name of modesty, and a desire of information, it affords little pleasure to the rest of the company, who are not troubled with the same doubts; besides which, he who asks a question would do well to consider that he lies wholly at the mercy of another before he receives an answer.

24. Nothing is more silly than the pleasure some people take in what they call speaking their minds. A man of this make will say a rude thing for the mere pleasure of saying, it, when an opposite behaviour, full as, innocent, might have preserved his friend, or made his fortune.

It is not impossible for a man to form to himself as exquisite a pleasure in complying with the humour and sentiments of others, as of bringing others over to his own; since 'tis the certain sign of a superior genius, that can take and become whatever dress it pleases.

25. Avoid disputes as much as possible, in order to appear easy and well-bred, in conversation. You may assure yourself, that it requires more wit, as well as more good-humour, to improve than to contradict the notions of another; but if you are at any time obliged to enter on an argument, give your reasons with the inmost coolness and modesty, two things which scarce ever fail of making an impression on the hearers. Besides, if you are neither dogmatical, nor shew either by your actions or words, that you are full of yourself, all will the more heartily rejoice at your victory; nay, should, you be pinched in your argument, you may make your retreat with a very good graces you were never positive, and are now glad to be better informed.

26. This hath made some approve the socratical way of reasoning, where, while you scarce affirm any thing, you can hardly be caught in an absurdity; and though possibly you are endeavouring to bring over another to your opinion, which is firmly fixed, you seem only to desire information from him.

27. In order to keep that temper, which is so difficult and yet so necessary to preserve, you may please to consider, that nothing can be more unjust or ridiculous, than to be angry with another because he is not of your opinion. The interests, education, and means, by which men attain their knowledge, are so very different, that it is impossible they should all think alike; and he has at least us much reason to be angry with you, as you with him.

28. Sometimes to keep yourself cool, it may be of service to ask yourself fairly, what might have been your opinion, had you all the biases of education and interest your adversary may possibly have? But if you contend for the honour of victory alone, you may lay down this as an infallible maxim, That you cannot make a more false step, or give your antagonists a greater advantage over you, than by falling into a passion.

29. When an argument is over, how many weighty reasons does a man recollect, which his heat and violence made him utterly forget?

It is yet more absurd to be angry with a man, because he does not apprehend the force of your reasons, or give weak ones of his own. If you argue for reputation, this makes your victory the easier; he is certainly in all respects an object of your pity, rather than anger; and if he cannot comprehend what you do, you ought to thank nature for her favours, who has given you so much the clearer understanding.

30. You may please to add this consideration, that among your equals no one values your anger, which only preys upon its master; and perhaps you may find it not very consistent, either with prudence or your ease, to punish yourself whenever you meet with a fool or a knave.

31. Lastly, if you propose to yourself the true end of argument, which is information, it may be a seasonable check to your passion; for if you search purely after truth, it will be almost indifferent to you where you find it. I cannot in this place omit an observation which I have often made, namely, that nothing procures a man more esteem and less envy from the whole company, than if he chooses the part of moderator, without engaging directly on either side in a dispute.

32. This gives him the character of impartial, furnishes him an opportunity of sifting things to the bottom, shewing his judgment, and of sometimes making handsome compliments to each of the contending parties.

When you have gained a victory, do not push it too far; it is sufficient to let the company and your adversary see it is in your power, but that you are too generous to make use of it.

33. I shall only add, that besides what I have here said, there is something which can never be learnt but in the company of the polite. The virtues of men are catching as well as their vices, and your own observations added to these, will soon discover what it is that commands attention in one man, and makes you tired and displeased with the discourse of another.