them out yourself, and with much more advantage. Never maintain an argument with heat and clamor, though you think or know yourself to be in the right, but give your opinion modestly and coolly, which is the only way to convince; and if that does not do, try to change the conversation by saying, with good humor, "We shall hardly convince one another, nor is it necessary that we should; so let us talk of something else."

Remember that there is a local propriety to be observed in all companies, and that what is extremely proper in one company may be, and often is, highly improper in another.

The jokes, the bon-mots, the little adventures which may do very well in one company will seem flat and tedious when related in another. The particular characters, the habits, the cant of one company may give merit to a word or a gesture which would have none at all if divested of those accidental circumstances. Here people very commonly err; and fond of something that has entertained them in one company and in certain circumstances, repeat it with emphasis in another where it is either insipid, or, it may be, offensive by being ill-timed or misplaced. Nay, they often do it with this silly preamble, "I will tell you an excellent thing," or "I will tell you the best thing in the world." This raises expectations, which when absolutely disappointed, make the relator of this excellent thing look, very deservedly, like a fool.

If you would particularly gain the affection and friendship of particular people, whether men or

women, endeavor to find out their predominant excellency, if they have one, and their prevailing weakness, which everybody has, and do justice to the one and something more than justice to the other. Men have various objects in which they may excel, or at least would be thought to excel; and though they love to hear justice done to them where they know that they excel, yet they are most and best flattered upon those points where they wish to excel and yet are doubtful whether they do or not. As, for example, Cardinal Richelieu, who was undoubtedly the ablest statesman of his time, or perhaps of any other, had the idle vanity of being thought the best poet, too; he envied the great Corneille his reputation, and ordered a criticism to be written upon the Cid. Those therefore who flattered skilfully said little to him of his abilities in state affairs, or at least but en passant, and as it might naturally occur. But the incense which they gave him the smoke of which they knew would turn his head in their favor, was as a bel esprit and a poet. Why? Because he was sure of one excellency, and distrustful as to the other. You will easily discover every man's prevailing vanity by observing his favorite topic of conversation; for every man talks most of what he has most a mind to be thought to excel in. Touch him but there, and you touch him to the quick. The late Sir Robert Walpole (who was certainly an able man) was little open to flattery upon that head, for he was in no doubt himself about it; but his prevailing weakness was to be thought to have a polite and happy turn

to gallantry, of which he had undoubtedly less than any man living. It was his favorite and frequent subject of conversation, which proved to those who had any penetration that it was his prevailing weakness; and they applied to it with success.

Women have in general but one object, which is their beauty, upon which scarce any flattery is too gross for them to swallow. Nature has hardly formed a woman ugly enough to be insensible to flattery upon her person; if her face is so shocking that she must in some degree be conscious of it, her figure and her air, she trusts, make ample amends for it; if her figure is deformed, her face, she thinks, counterbalances it; if they are both bad, she comforts herself that she has graces, a certain manner, a je ne sais quoi1 still more engaging than beauty. This truth is evident from the studied and elaborate dress of the ugliest women in the world. An undoubted, uncontested, conscious beauty is of all women the least sensible of flattery upon that head; she knows that it is her due, and is therefore obliged to nobody for giving it her. She must be flattered upon her understanding, which though she may possibly not doubt of herself, yet she suspects that men may distrust.

Do not mistake me and think that I mean to recommend to you abject and criminal flattery. No, flatter nobody's vices or crimes; on the contrary, abhor and discourage them. But there is no

1 For an admirable analysis of this expression the reader is referred to the letter to his godson dated Aug. 9, 1768, and given in this volume at page 293.

living in the world without a complaisant indulgence for people's weaknesses and innocent though ridiculous vanities. If a man has a mind to be thought wiser and a woman handsomer than they really are, their error is a comfortable one to themselves and an innocent one with regard to other people; and I would rather make them my friends by indulging them in it than my enemies by endeavoring—and that to no purpose to undeceive them.

There are little attentions likewise which are infinitely engaging, and which sensibly affect that degree of pride and self-love which is inseparable from human nature, as they are unquestionable proofs of the regard and consideration which we have for the person to whom we pay them. As, for example, to observe the little habits, the likings, the antipathies, and the tastes of those whom we would gain, and then take care to provide them with the one and to secure them from the other, giving them genteelly to understand that you had observed that they liked such a dish or such a room, for which reason you had prepared it; or, on the contrary, that having observed they had an aversion to such a dish, a dislike to such a person, etc., you had taken care to avoid presenting them. Such attention to such trifles flatters self-love much more than greater things, as it makes people think themselves almost the only objects of your thoughts and care.

These are some of the arcana necessary for your initiation in the great society of the world. I wish I had known them better at your age; I have paid

the price of three and fifty years for them, and shall not grudge it if you reap the advantage. Adieu.

In short, be curious, attentive, inquisitive as to everything; listlessness and indolence are always blamable, but at your age they are unpardonable. Consider how precious and how important for all the rest of your life are your moments for these next three or four years, and do not lose one of them. Do not think I mean that you should study all day long; I am far from advising or desiring it; but I desire that you would be doing something or other all day long, and not neglect half hours and quarters of hours, which at the year's end amount to a great For instance, there are many short intervals during the day between studies and pleasures; instead of sitting idle and yawning in those intervals, take up any book, though ever so trifling a one, even down to a jest-book, it is still better than doing nothing.

sum.

Nor do I call pleasures idleness or time lost, provided they are the pleasures of a rational being; on the contrary, a certain portion of your time employed in those pleasures is very usefully employed. Such are public spectacles, assemblies of good company, cheerful suppers, and even balls; but then