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, I happened 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.

LETTER CL

Greenwich, June 30, O. S. 1751.

My dear friend:  Pray give the inclosed to our friend the Abbe; it is to congratulate him upon his ‘Canonicat’, which I am really very glad of, and I hope it will fatten him up to Boileau’s ‘Chanoine’; at present he is as meagre as an apostle or a prophet.  By the way, has he ever introduced you to la Duchesse d’Aiguillon?  If he has not, make him present you; and if he has, frequent her, and make her many compliments from me.  She has uncommon, sense