LONDON, May 22, O. S. 1749.
DEAR BOY: I recommended to you, in my last, an innocent piece of art;
that of flattering people behind their backs, in presence of those who,
to make their own court, much more than for your sake, will not fail to
repeat and even amplify the praise to the party concerned. This is, of
all flattery, the most pleasing, and consequently the most effectual.
There are other, and many other, inoffensive arts of this kind, which are
necessary in the course of the world, and which he who practices the
earliest, will please the most, and rise the soonest. The spirits and
vivacity of youth are apt to neglect them as useless, or reject them as
troublesome. But subsequent knowledge and experience of the world reminds
us of their importance, commonly when it is too late. The principal of
these things is the mastery of one’s temper, and that coolness of mind,
and serenity of countenance, which hinders us from discovering by words,
actions, or even looks, those passions or sentiments by which we are
inwardly moved or agitated; and the discovery of which gives cooler and
abler people such infinite advantages over us, not only in great
business, but in all the most common occurrences of life. A man who does
not possess himself enough to hear disagreeable things without visible
marks of anger and change of countenance, or agreeable ones, without
sudden bursts of joy and expansion of countenance, is at the mercy of
every artful knave or pert coxcomb; the former will provoke or please you
by design, to catch unguarded words or looks by which he will easily
decipher the secrets of your heart, of which you should keep the key
yourself, and trust it with no man living. The latter will, by his
absurdity, and without intending it, produce the same discoveries of
which other people will avail themselves. You will say, possibly, that
this coolness must be constitutional, and consequently does not depend
upon the will: and I will allow that constitution has some power over us;
but I will maintain, too, that people very often, to excuse themselves,
very unjustly accuse their constitutions. Care and reflection, if
properly used, will get the better: and a man may as surely get a habit
of letting his reason prevail over his constitution, as of letting, as
most people do, the latter prevail over the former. If you find yourself
subject to sudden starts of passion or madness (for I see no difference
between them but in their duration), resolve within yourself, at least,
never to speak one word while you feel that emotion within you.
Determine, too, to keep your countenance as unmoved and unembarrassed as
possible; which steadiness you may get a habit of, by constant attention.
I should desire nothing better, in any negotiation, than to have to do
with one of those men of warm, quick passions; which I would take care to
set in motion. By artful provocations I would extort rash unguarded
expressions; and, by hinting at all the several things that I could
suspect, infallibly discover the true one, by the alteration it
occasioned in the countenance of the person. ‘Volto sciolto con pensieri
stretti’, is a most useful maxim in business. It is so necessary at some
games, such as ‘Berlan Quinze’, etc., that a man who had not the command
of his temper and countenance, would infallibly be outdone by those who
had, even though they played fair. Whereas, in business, you always play
with sharpers; to whom, at least, you should give no fair advantages. It
may be objected, that I am now recommending dissimulation to you; I both
own and justify it. It has been long said, ‘Qui nescit dissimulare nescit
regnare’: I go still further, and say, that without some dissimulation no
business can be carried on at all. It is SIMULATION that is false, mean,
and criminal: that is the cunning which Lord Bacon calls crooked or
left-handed wisdom, and which is never made use of but by those who have
not true wisdom. And the same great man says, that dissimulation is only
to hide our own cards, whereas simulation is put on, in order to look
into other people’s. Lord Bolingbroke, in his “Idea of a Patriot King,”
which he has lately published, and which I will send you by the first
opportunity, says very justly that simulation is a STILETTO,--not only an
unjust but an unlawful weapon, and the use of it very rarely to be
excused, never justified. Whereas dissimulation is a shield, as secrecy
is armor; and it is no more possible to preserve secrecy in business,
without same degree of dissimulation, than it is to succeed in business
without secrecy. He goes on, and says, that those two arts of
dissimulation and secrecy are like the alloy mingled with pure ore: a
little is necessary, and will not debase the coin below its proper
standard; but if more than that little be employed (that is, simulation
and cunning), the coin loses its currency, and the coiner his credit.
Make yourself absolute master, therefore, of your temper and your
countenance, so far, at least, as that no visible change do appear in
either, whatever you may feel inwardly. This may be difficult, but it is
by no means impossible; and, as a man of sense never attempts
impossibilities on one hand, on the other, he is never discouraged by
difficulties: on the contrary, he redoubles his industry and his
diligence; he perseveres, and infallibly prevails at last. In any point
which prudence bids you pursue, and which a manifest utility attends, let
difficulties only animate your industry, not deter you from the pursuit.
If one way has failed, try another; be active, persevere, and you will
conquer. Some people are to be reasoned, some flattered, some
intimidated, and some teased into a thing; but, in general, all are to be
brought into it at last, if skillfully applied to, properly managed, and
indefatigably attacked in their several weak places. The time should
likewise be judiciously chosen; every man has his ‘mollia tempora’, but
that is far from being all day long; and you would choose your time very
ill, if you applied to a man about one business, when his head was full
of another, or when his heart was full of grief, anger, or any other
disagreeable sentiment.
In order to judge of the inside of others, study your own; for men in
general are very much alike; and though one has one prevailing passion,
and another has another, yet their operations are much the same; and
whatever engages or disgusts, pleases or offends you, in others will,
‘mutatis mutandis’, engage, disgust, please, or offend others, in you.
Observe with the utmost attention all the operations of your own mind,
the nature of your passions, and the various motives that determine your
will; and you may, in a great degree, know all mankind. For instance, do
you find yourself hurt and mortified when another makes you feel his
superiority, and your own inferiority, in knowledge, parts, rank, or
fortune? You will certainly take great care not to make a person whose
good will, good word, interest, esteem, or friendship, you would gain,
feel that superiority in you, in case you have it. If disagreeable
insinuations, sly sneers, or repeated contradictions, tease and irritate
you, would you use them where you wish to engage and please? Surely not,
and I hope you wish to engage and please, almost universally. The
temptation of saying a smart and witty thing, or ‘bon mot’; and the
malicious applause with which it is commonly received, has made people
who can say them, and, still oftener, people who think they can, but
cannot, and yet try, more enemies, and implacable ones too, than any one
other thing that I know of: When such things, then, shall happen to be
said at your expense (as sometimes they certainly will), reflect
seriously upon the sentiments of uneasiness, anger, and resentment which
they excite in you; and consider whether it can be prudent, by the same
means, to excite the same sentiments in others against you. It is a
decided folly to lose a friend for a jest; but, in my mind, it is not a
much less degree of folly to make an enemy of an indifferent and neutral
person, for the sake of a ‘bon mot’. When things of this kind happen to
be said of you, the most prudent way is to seem not to suppose that they
are meant at you, but to dissemble and conceal whatever degree of anger
you may feel inwardly; but, should they be so plain that you cannot be
supposed ignorant of their meaning, to join in the laugh of the company
against yourself; acknowledge the hit to be a fair one, and the jest a
good one, and play off the whole thing in seeming good humor; but by no
means reply in the same way; which only shows that you are hurt, and
publishes the victory which you might have concealed. Should the thing
said, indeed injure your honor or moral character, there is but one
proper reply; which I hope you never will have occasion to make.
As the female part of the world has some influence, and often too much,
over the male, your conduct with regard to women (I mean women of
fashion, for I cannot suppose you capable of conversing with any others)
deserves some share in your reflections. They are a numerous and
loquacious body: their hatred would be more prejudicial than their
friendship can be advantageous to you. A general complaisance and
attention to that sex is therefore established by custom, and certainly
necessary. But where you would particularly please anyone, whose
situation, interest, or connections, can be of use to you, you must show
particular preference. The least attentions please, the greatest charm
them. The innocent but pleasing flattery of their persons, however gross,
is greedily swallowed and kindly digested: but a seeming regard for their
understandings, a seeming desire of, and deference for, their advice,
together with a seeming confidence in their moral virtues, turns their
heads entirely in your favor. Nothing shocks them so much as the least
appearance of that contempt which they are apt to suspect men of
entertaining of their capacities; and you may be very sure of gaining
their friendship if you seem to think it worth gaining. Here
dissimulation is very often necessary, and even simulation sometimes
allowable; which, as it pleases them, may, be useful to you, and is
injurious to nobody.
This torn sheet, which I did not observe when I began upon it, as it
alters the figure, shortens, too, the length of my letter. It may very
well afford it: my anxiety for you carries me insensibly to these
lengths. I am apt to flatter myself, that my experience, at the latter
end of my life, may be of use to you at the beginning of yours; and I do
not grudge the greatest trouble, if it can procure you the least
advantage. I even repeat frequently the same things, the better to
imprint them on your young, and, I suppose, yet giddy mind; and I shall
think that part of my time the best employed, that contributes to make
you employ yours well. God bless you, child!