There alone all kinds of characters resort, and human
nature is seen in all the various shapes and modes,
which education, custom, and habit give it; whereas,
in all other places, one local mode generally prevails,
and producing a seeming though not a real sameness
of character. For example, one general mode distinguishes
an university, another a trading town, a third a seaport
town, and so on; whereas, at a capital, where the
Prince or the Supreme Power resides, some of all these
various modes are to be seen and seen in action too,
exerting their utmost skill in pursuit of their several
objects. Human nature is the same all over the
world; but its operations are so varied by education
and habit, that one must see it in all its dresses
in order to be intimately acquainted with it.
The passion of ambition, for instance, is the same
in a courtier, a soldier, or an ecclesiastic; but,
from their different educations and habits, they will
take very different methods to gratify it. Civility,
which is a disposition to accommodate and oblige others,
is essentially the same in every country; but good-breeding,
as it is called, which is the manner of exerting that
disposition, is different in almost every country,
and merely local; and every man of sense imitates and
conforms to that local good-breeding of the place
which he is at. A conformity and flexibility
of manners is necessary in the course of the world;
that is, with regard to all things which are not wrong
in themselves. The ‘versatile ingenium’
is the most useful of all. It can turn itself
instantly from one object to another, assuming the
proper manner for each. It can be serious with
the grave, cheerful with the gay, and trifling with
the frivolous. Endeavor by all means, to acquire
this talent, for it is a very great one.
As I hardly know anything more useful, than to see,
from time to time, pictures of one’s self drawn
by different hands, I send you here a sketch of yourself,
drawn at Lausanne, while you were there, and sent over
here by a person who little thought that it would
ever fall into my hands: and indeed it was by
the greatest accident in the world that it did.
LETTER XVI
London, October 9, O. S. 1747.
Dear boy: People of your age have,
commonly, an unguarded frankness about them; which
makes them the easy prey and bubbles of the artful
and the experienced; they look upon every knave or
fool, who tells them that he is their friend, to be
really so; and pay that profession of simulated friendship,
with an indiscreet and unbounded confidence, always
to their loss, often to their ruin. Beware, therefore,
now that you are coming into the world, of these preferred
friendships. Receive them with great civility,
but with great incredulity too; and pay them with compliments,
but not with confidence. Do not let your vanity
and self-love make you suppose that people become