<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0112" id="link2H_4_0112"></SPAN></p>
<h2> LETTER CX </h2>
<h3> LONDON, April 26, O. S. 1756. </h3>
<p>MY DEAR FRIEND: As your journey to Paris approaches, and as that period
will, one way or another, be of infinite consequence to you, my letters
will henceforward be principally calculated for that meridian. You will be
left there to your own discretion, instead of Mr. Harte's, and you will
allow me, I am sure, to distrust a little the discretion of eighteen. You
will find in the Academy a number of young fellows much less discreet than
yourself. These will all be your acquaintances; but look about you first,
and inquire into their respective characters, before you form any
connections among them; and, 'caeteris paribus', single out those of the
most considerable rank and family. Show them a distinguishing attention;
by which means you will get into their respective houses, and keep the
best company. All those French young fellows are excessively 'etourdis';
be upon your guard against scrapes and quarrels; have no corporal
pleasantries with them, no 'jeux de mains', no 'coups de chambriere',
which frequently bring on quarrels. Be as lively as they, if you please,
but at the same time be a little wiser than they. As to letters, you will
find most of them ignorant; do not reproach them with that ignorance, nor
make them feel your superiority. It is not their faults, they are all bred
up for the army; but, on the other, hand, do not allow their ignorance and
idleness to break in upon those morning hours which you may be able to
allot to your serious, studies. No breakfastings with them, which consume
a great deal of time; but tell them (not magisterially and sententiously)
that you will read two or three hours in the morning, and that for the
rest of the day you are very much at their service. Though, by the way, I
hope you will keep wiser company in the evenings.</p>
<p>I must insist upon your never going to what is called the English
coffee-house at Paris, which is the resort of all the scrub English, and
also of the fugitive and attainted Scotch and Irish; party quarrels and
drunken squabbles are very frequent there; and I do not know a more
degrading place in all Paris. Coffee-houses and taverns are by no means
creditable at Paris. Be cautiously upon your guard against the infinite
number of fine-dressed and fine-spoken 'chevaliers d'industrie' and
'avanturiers' which swarm at Paris: and keep everybody civilly at arm's
length, of whose real character or rank you are not previously informed.
Monsieur le Comte or Monsieur le Chevalier, in a handsome laced coat, 'et
tres bien mis', accosts you at the play, or some other public place; he
conceives at first sight an infinite regard for you: he sees that you are
a stranger of the first distinction; he offers you his services, and
wishes nothing more ardently than to contribute, as far as may be in his
little power, to procure you 'les agremens de Paris'. He is acquainted
with some ladies of condition, 'qui prefrent une petite societe agreable,
et des petits soupers aimables d'honnetes gens, au tumulte et a la
dissipation de Paris'; and he will with the greatest pleasure imaginable
have the honor of introducing you to those ladies of quality. Well, if you
were to accept of this kind offer, and go with him, you would find 'au
troisieme; a handsome, painted and p——d strumpet, in a
tarnished silver or gold second-hand robe, playing a sham party at cards
for livres, with three or four sharpers well dressed enough, and dignified
by the titles of Marquis, Comte, and Chevalier. The lady receives you in
the most polite and gracious manner, and with all those 'complimens de
routine' which every French woman has equally. Though she loves
retirement, and shuns 'le grande monde', yet she confesses herself obliged
to the Marquis for having procured her so inestimable, so accomplished an
acquaintance as yourself; but her concern is how to amuse you: for she
never suffers play at her house for above a livre; if you can amuse
yourself with that low play till supper, 'a la bonne heure'. Accordingly
you sit down to that little play, at which the good company takes care
that you shall win fifteen or sixteen livres, which gives them an
opportunity of celebrating both your good luck and your good play. Supper
comes up, and a good one it is, upon the strength of your being able to
pay for it. 'La Marquise en fait les honneurs au mieux, talks sentiments,
'moeurs et morale', interlarded with 'enjouement', and accompanied with
some oblique ogles, which bid you not despair in time. After supper,
pharaoh, lansquenet, or quinze, happen accidentally to be mentioned: the
Marquise exclaims against it, and vows she will not suffer it, but is at
last prevailed upon by being assured 'que ce ne sera que pour des riens'.
Then the wished-for moment is come, the operation begins: you are cheated,
at best, of all the money in your pocket, and if you stay late, very
probably robbed of your watch and snuff-box, possibly murdered for greater
security. This I can assure you, is not an exaggerated, but a literal
description of what happens every day to some raw and inexperienced
stranger at Paris. Remember to receive all these civil gentlemen, who take
such a fancy to you at first sight, very coldly, and take care always to
be previously engaged, whatever party they propose to you. You may happen
sometimes, in very great and good companies, to meet with some dexterous
gentlemen, who may be very desirous, and also very sure, to win your
money, if they can but engage you to play with them. Therefore lay it down
as an invariable rule never to play with men, but only with women of
fashion, at low play, or with women and men mixed. But, at the same time,
whenever you are asked to play deeper than you would, do not refuse it
gravely and sententiously, alleging the folly of staking what would be
very inconvenient to one to lose, against what one does not want to win;
but parry those invitations ludicrously, 'et en badinant'. Say that, if
you were sure to lose, you might possibly play, but that as you may as
well win, you dread 'l'embarras des richesses', ever since you have seen
what an encumbrance they were to poor Harlequin, and that, therefore, you
are determined never to venture the winning above two louis a-day; this
sort of light trifling way of declining invitations to vice and folly, is
more becoming your age, and at the same time more effectual, than grave
philosophical refusals. A young fellow who seems to have no will of his
own, and who does everything that is asked of him, is called a very
good-natured, but at the same time, is thought a very silly young fellow.
Act wisely, upon solid principles, and from true motives, but keep them to
yourself, and never talk sententiously. When you are invited to drink, say
that you wish you could, but that so little makes you both drunk and sick,
'que le jeu me vaut pas la chandelle'.</p>
<p>Pray show great attention, and make your court to Monsieur de la
Gueriniere; he is well with Prince Charles and many people of the first
distinction at Paris; his commendations will raise your character there,
not to mention that his favor will be of use to you in the Academy itself.
For the reasons which I mentioned to you in my last, I would have you be
interne in the Academy for the first six months; but after that, I promise
you that you shall have lodgings of your own 'dans un hotel garni', if in
the meantime I hear well of you, and that you frequent, and are esteemed
in the best French companies. You want nothing now, thank God, but
exterior advantages, that last polish, that 'tournure du monde', and those
graces, which are so necessary to adorn, and give efficacy to, the most
solid merit. They are only to be acquired in the best companies, and
better in the best French companies than in any other. You will not want
opportunities, for I shall send you letters that will establish you in the
most distinguished companies, not only of the beau monde, but of the beaux
esprits, too. Dedicate, therefore, I beg of you, that whole year to your
own advantage and final improvement, and do not be diverted from those
objects by idle dissipations, low seduction, or bad example. After that
year, do whatever you please; I will interfere no longer in your conduct;
for I am sure both you and I shall be safe then. Adieu!</p>
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