第229章 LETTER CXLIX(2)

As I open myself,without the least reserve,whenever I think that my doing so can be of any use to you,I will give you a short account of myself.When I first came into the world,which was at the age you are of now,so that,by the way,you have got the start of me in that important article by two or three years at least,--at nineteen I left the University of Cambridge,where I was an absolute pedant;when I talked my best,I quoted Horace;when I aimed at being facetious,I quoted Martial;and when I had a mind to be a fine gentleman,I talked Ovid.I was convinced that none but the ancients had common sense;that the classics contained everything that was either necessary,useful,or ornamental to men;and I was not without thoughts of wearing the 'toga virilis'of the Romans,instead of the vulgar and illiberal dress of the moderns.With these excellent notions I went first to The Hague,where,by the help of several letters of recommendation,I was soon introduced into all the best company;and where I very soon discovered that I was totally mistaken in almost every one notion I had entertained.Fortunately,Ihad a strong desire to please (the mixed result of good-nature and a vanity by no means blamable),and was sensible that I had nothing but the desire.I therefore resolved,if possible,to acquire the means,too.Istudied attentively and minutely the dress,the air,the manner,the address,and the turn of conversation of all those whom I found to be the people in fashion,and most generally allowed to please.I imitated them as well as I could;if I heard that one man was reckoned remarkably genteel,I carefully watched his dress,motions and attitudes,and formed my own upon them.When I heard of another,whose conversation was agreeable and engaging,I listened and attended to the turn of it.Iaddressed myself,though 'de tres mauvaise grace',to all the most fashionable fine ladies;confessed,and laughed with them at my own awkwardness and rawness,recommending myself as an object for them to try their skill in forming.By these means,and with a passionate desire of pleasing everybody,I came by degrees to please some;and,I can assure you,that what little figure I have made in the world,has been much more owing to that passionate desire of pleasing universally than to any intrinsic merit or sound knowledge I might ever have been master of.My passion for pleasing was so strong (and I am very glad it was so),that Iown to you fairly,I wished to make every woman I saw in love with me,and every man I met with admire me.Without this passion for the object,I should never have been so attentive to the means;and I own I cannot conceive how it is possible for any man of good-nature and good sense to be without this passion.Does not good-nature incline us to please all those we converse with,of whatever rank or station they may be?And does not good sense and common observation,show of what infinite use it is to please?Oh!but one may please by the good qualities of the heart,and the knowledge of the head,without that fashionable air,address and manner,which is mere tinsel.I deny it.A man may be esteemed and respected,but I defy him to please without them.Moreover,at your age,I would not have contented myself with barely pleasing;I wanted to shine and to distinguish myself in the world as a man of fashion and gallantry,as well as business.And that ambition or vanity,call it what you please,was a right one;it hurt nobody,and made me exert whatever talents I had.It is the spring of a thousand right and good things.

I was talking you over the other day with one very much your friend,and who had often been with you,both at Paris and in Italy.Among the innumerable questions which you may be sure I asked him concerning you,Ihappened to mention your dress (for,to say the truth,it was the only thing of which I thought him a competent judge)upon which he said that you dressed tolerably well at Paris;but that in Italy you dressed so ill,that he used to joke with you upon it,and even to tear your clothes.Now,I must tell you,that at your age it is as ridiculous not to be very well dressed,as at my age it would be if I were to wear a white feather and red-heeled shoes.Dress is one of various ingredients that contribute to the art of pleasing;it pleases the eyes at least,and more especially of women.Address yourself to the senses,if you would please;dazzle the eyes,soothe and flatter the ears of mankind;engage their hearts,and let their reason do its worst against you.'Suaviter in modo'is the great secret.Whenever you find yourself engaged insensibly,in favor of anybody of no superior merit nor distinguished talents,examine,and see what it is that has made those impressions upon you:and you will find it to be that 'douceur',that gentleness of manners,that air and address,which I have so often recommended to you;and from thence draw this obvious conclusion,that what pleases you in them,will please others in you;for we are all made of the same clay,though some of the lumps are a little finer,and some a little coarser;but in general,the surest way to judge of others,is to examine and analyze one's self thoroughly.When we meet I will assist you in that analysis,in which every man wants some assistance against his own self-love.Adieu.