The famous Earl of Shaftesbury, in the flagitious reign of Charles the Second, while he was Chancellor, had a mind to be a favorite, as well as a minister of the King; in order, therefore, to please his Majesty, whose prevailing passion was women, my Lord kept a w——­e, whom he had no occasion for, and made no manner of use of.  The King soon heard of it, and asked him if it was true; he owned it was; but that, though he kept that one woman, he had several others besides, for he loved variety.  A few days afterward, the King, at his public levee, saw Lord Shaftesbury at some distance, and said in the circle, “One would not think that that little, weak man is the greatest whore-master in England; but I can assure you that he is.”  Upon Lord Shaftesbury’s coming into the circle, there was a general smile; the King said, “This is concerning you, my Lord.”—­“Me, sir?” answered the Chancellor, with some surprise.  “Yes, you,” answered the King; “for I had just said that you were the greatest whore-master in England!  Is it not true?”—­“Of a subject, Sir,” replied Lord Shaftesbury, “perhaps I am.”  It is the same in everything; we think a difference of opinion, of conduct, of manners, a tacit reproach, at least, upon our own; we must therefore use ourselves to a ready conformity to whatever is neither criminal nor dishonorable.  Whoever differs from any general custom, is supposed both to think, and proclaim himself wiser than the rest of the world:  which the rest of the world cannot bear, especially in a young man.  A young fellow is always forgiven and often applauded, when he carries a fashion to an excess; but never if he stops short of it.  The first is ascribed to youth and fire; but the latter is imputed to an affectation of singularity or superiority.  At your age, one is allowed to ‘outrer’ fashion, dress, vivacity, gallantry, etc., but by no means to be behindhand in any one of them.  And one may apply to youth in this case, ’Si non errasset, fecerat ille minus’.  Adieu.

LETTER CLXXXIX

Bath, October 19, 1753

My dear friend:  Of all the various ingredients that compose the useful and necessary art of pleasing, no one is so effectual and engaging as that gentleness, that ‘douceur’ of countenance and manner, to which you are no stranger, though (God knows why) a sworn enemy.  Other people take great pains to conceal or disguise their natural imperfections; some by the make of their clothes and other arts, endeavor to conceal the defects of their shape; women, who unfortunately have natural bad complexions, lay on good ones; and both men and women upon whom unkind nature has inflicted a surliness and ferocity of countenance, do at least all they can, though often without success, to soften and mitigate it; they affect ‘douceur’, and aim at smiles, though often in the attempt, like the Devil in Milton, they grin horribly A ghastly smile.  But you