<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0085" id="link2H_4_0085"></SPAN></p>
<h2> LETTER LXXXIII </h2>
<h3> LONDON, September 27, O. S. 1749. </h3>
<p>DEAR BOY: A vulgar, ordinary way of thinking, acting, or speaking, implies
a low education, and a habit of low company. Young people contract it at
school, or among servants, with whom they are too often used to converse;
but after they frequent good company, they must want attention and
observation very much, if they do not lay it quite aside; and, indeed, if
they do not, good company will be very apt to lay them aside. The various
kinds of vulgarisms are infinite; I cannot pretend to point them out to
you; but I will give some samples, by which you may guess at the rest.</p>
<p>A vulgar man is captious and jealous; eager and impetuous about trifles.
He suspects himself to be slighted, thinks everything that is said meant
at him: if the company happens to laugh, he is persuaded they laugh at
him; he grows angry and testy, says something very impertinent, and draws
himself into a scrape, by showing what he calls a proper spirit, and
asserting himself. A man of fashion does not suppose himself to be either
the sole or principal object of the thoughts, looks, or words of the
company; and never suspects that he is either slighted or laughed at,
unless he is conscious that he deserves it. And if (which very seldom
happens) the company is absurd or ill-bred enough to do either, he does
not care twopence, unless the insult be so gross and plain as to require
satisfaction of another kind. As he is above trifles, he is never vehement
and eager about them; and, wherever they are concerned, rather acquiesces
than wrangles. A vulgar man's conversation always savors strongly of the
lowness of his education and company. It turns chiefly upon his domestic
affairs, his servants, the excellent order he keeps in his own family, and
the little anecdotes of the neighborhood; all which he relates with
emphasis, as interesting matters. He is a man gossip.</p>
<p>Vulgarism in language is the next and distinguishing characteristic of bad
company and a bad education. A man of fashion avoids nothing with more
care than that. Proverbial expressions and trite sayings are the flowers
of the rhetoric of a vulgar man. Would he say that men differ in their
tastes; he both supports and adorns that opinion by the good old saying,
as he respectfully calls it, that WHAT IS ONE MAN'S MEAT, IS ANOTHER MAN'S
POISON. If anybody attempts being SMART, as he calls it, upon him, he
gives them TIT FOR TAT, aye, that he does. He has always some favorite
word for the time being; which, for the sake of using often, he commonly
abuses. Such as VASTLY angry, VASTLY kind, VASTLY handsome, and VASTLY
ugly. Even his pronunciation of proper words carries the mark of the beast
along with it. He calls the earth YEARTH; he is OBLEIGED, not OBLIGED to
you. He goes TO WARDS, and not TOWARDS, such a place. He sometimes affects
hard words, by way of ornament, which he always mangles like a learned
woman. A man of fashion never has recourse to proverbs and vulgar
aphorisms; uses neither favorite words nor hard words; but takes great
care to speak very correctly and grammatically, and to pronounce properly;
that is, according to the usage of the best companies.</p>
<p>An awkward address, ungraceful attitudes and actions, and a certain
left-handedness (if I may use that word), loudly proclaim low education
and low company; for it is impossible to suppose that a man can have
frequented good company, without having catched something, at least, of
their air and motions. A new raised man is distinguished in a regiment by
his awkwardness; but he must be impenetrably dull, if, in a month or two's
time, he cannot perform at least the common manual exercise, and look like
a soldier. The very accoutrements of a man of fashion are grievous
encumbrances to a vulgar man. He is at a loss what to do with his hat,
when it is not upon his head; his cane (if unfortunately he wears one) is
at perpetual war with every cup of tea or coffee he drinks; destroys them
first, and then accompanies them in their fall. His sword is formidable
only to his own legs, which would possibly carry him fast enough out of
the way of any sword but his own. His clothes fit him so ill, and
constrain him so much, that he seems rather, their prisoner than their
proprietor. He presents himself in company like a criminal in a court of
justice; his very air condemns him; and people of fashion will no more
connect themselves with the one, than people of character will with the
other. This repulse drives and sinks him into low company; a gulf from
whence no man, after a certain age, ever emerged.</p>
<p>'Les manieres nobles et aisees, la tournure d'un homme de condition, le
ton de la bonne compagnie, les graces, le jeune sais quoi, qui plait', are
as necessary to adorn and introduce your intrinsic merit and knowledge, as
the polish is to the diamond; which, without that polish, would never be
worn, whatever it might weigh. Do not imagine that these accomplishments
are only useful with women; they are much more so with men. In a public
assembly, what an advantage has a graceful speaker, with genteel motions,
a handsome figure, and a liberal air, over one who shall speak full as
much good sense, but destitute of these ornaments? In business, how
prevalent are the graces, how detrimental is the want of them? By the help
of these I have known some men refuse favors less offensively than others
granted them. The utility of them in courts and negotiations is
inconceivable. You gain the hearts, and consequently the secrets, of nine
in ten, that you have to do with, in spite even of their prudence; which
will, nine times in ten, be the dupe of their hearts and of their senses.
Consider the importance of these things as they deserve, and you will not
lose one minute in the pursuit of them.</p>
<p>You are traveling now in a country once so famous both for arts and arms,
that (however degenerate at present) it still deserves your attention and
reflection. View it therefore with care, compare its former with its
present state, and examine into the causes of its rise and its decay.
Consider it classically and politically, and do not run through it, as too
many of your young countrymen do, musically, and (to use a ridiculous
word) KNICK-KNACKICALLY. No piping nor fiddling, I beseech you; no days
lost in poring upon almost imperceptible 'intaglios and cameos': and do
not become a virtuoso of small wares. Form a taste of painting, sculpture,
and architecture, if you please, by a careful examination of the works of
the best ancient and modern artists; those are liberal arts, and a real
taste and knowledge of them become a man of fashion very well. But, beyond
certain bounds, the man of taste ends, and the frivolous virtuoso begins.</p>
<p>Your friend Mendes, the good Samaritan, dined with me yesterday. He has
more good-nature and generosity than parts. However, I will show him all
the civilities that his kindness to you so justly deserves. He tells me
that you are taller than I am, which I am very glad of: I desire that you
may excel me in everything else too; and, far from repining, I shall
rejoice at your superiority. He commends your friend Mr. Stevens
extremely; of whom too I have heard so good a character from other people,
that I am very glad of your connection with him. It may prove of use to
you hereafter. When you meet with such sort of Englishmen abroad, who,
either from their parts or their rank, are likely to make a figure at
home, I would advise you to cultivate them, and get their favorable
testimony of you here, especially those who are to return to England
before you. Sir Charles Williams has puffed you (as the mob call it) here
extremely. If three or four more people of parts do the same, before you
come back, your first appearance in London will be to great advantage.
Many people do, and indeed ought, to take things upon trust; many more do,
who need not; and few dare dissent from an established opinion. Adieu!</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />