but pay other people with them; because you may be sure that nine in ten of mankind do, and ever will trust to them.  This is by no means a criminal or blamable simulation, if not used with an ill intention.  I am by no means blamable in desiring to have other people’s good word, good-will, and affection, if I do not mean to abuse them.  Your heart, I know, is good, your sense is sound, and your knowledge extensive.  What then remains for you to do?  Nothing, but to adorn those fundamental qualifications, with such engaging and captivating manners, softness, and gentleness, as will endear you to those who are able to judge of your real merit, and which always stand in the stead of merit with those who are not.  I do not mean by this to recommend to you ‘le fade doucereux’, the insipid softness of a gentle fool; no, assert your own opinion, oppose other people’s when wrong; but let your manner, your air, your terms, and your tone of voice, be soft and gentle, and that easily and naturally, not affectedly.  Use palliatives when you contradict; such as I may be mistaken, I am not sure, but I believe, I should rather think, etc.  Finish any argument or dispute with some little good-humored pleasantry, to show that you are neither hurt yourself, nor meant to hurt your antagonist; for an argument, kept up a good while, often occasions a temporary alienation on each side.  Pray observe particularly, in those French people who are distinguished by that character, ’cette douceur de moeurs et de manieres’, which they talk of so much, and value so justly; see in what it consists; in mere trifles, and most easy to be acquired, where the heart is really good.  Imitate, copy it, till it becomes habitual and easy to you.  Without a compliment to you, I take it to be the only thing you now want:  nothing will sooner give it you than a real passion, or, at least, ‘un gout vif’, for some woman of fashion; and, as I suppose that you have either the one or the other by this time, you are consequently in the best school.  Besides this, if you were to say to Lady Hervey, Madame Monconseil, or such others as you look upon to be your friends, It is said that I have a kind of manner which is rather too decisive and too peremptory; it is not, however, my intention that it should be so; I entreat you to correct, and even publicly to punish me whenever I am guilty.  Do not treat me with the least indulgence, but criticise to the utmost.  So clear-sighted a judge as you has a right to be severe; and I promise you that the criminal will endeavor to correct himself.  Yesterday I had two of your acquaintances to dine with me, Baron B. and his companion Monsieur S. I cannot say of the former, ’qu’il est paitri de graces’; and I would rather advise him to go and settle quietly at home, than to think of improving himself by further travels.  ’Ce n’est pas le bois don’t on en fait’.  His companion is much better,