<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0186" id="link2H_4_0186"></SPAN></p>
<h2> LETTER CLXXXIV </h2>
<h3> Christmas Day, 1752 </h3>
<p>MY DEAR FRIEND: A tyrant with legions at his com mand may say, Oderint
modo timeant; though he is a fool if he says it, and a greater fool if he
thinks it. But a private man who can hurt but few, though he can please
many, must endeavor to be loved, for he cannot be feared in general.
Popularity is his only rational and sure foundation. The good-will, the
affections, the love of the public, can alone raise him to any
considerable height. Should you ask me how he is to acquire them, I will
answer, By desiring them. No man ever deserved, who did not desire them;
and no man both deserved and desired them who had them not, though many
have enjoyed them merely by desiring, and without deserving them. You do
not imagine, I believe, that I mean by this public love the sentimental
love of either lovers or intimate friends; no, that is of another nature,
and confined to a very narrow circle; but I mean that general good-will
which a man may acquire in the world, by the arts of pleasing respectively
exerted according to the rank, the situation, and the turn of mind of
those whom he hath to do with. The pleasing impressions which he makes
upon them will engage their affections and their good wishes, and even
their good offices as far (that is) as they are not inconsistent with
their own interests; for further than that you are not to expect from
three people in the course of your life, even were it extended to the
patriarchal term. Could I revert to the age of twenty, and carry back with
me all the experience that forty years more have taught me, I can assure
you, that I would employ much the greatest part of my time in engaging the
good-will, and in insinuating myself into the predilection of people in
general, instead of directing my endeavors to please (as I was too apt to
do) to the man whom I immediately wanted, or the woman I wished for,
exclusively of all others. For if one happens (and it will sometimes
happen to the ablest man) to fail in his views with that man or that
woman, one is at a loss to know whom to address one's self to next, having
offended in general, by that exclusive and distinguished particular
application. I would secure a general refuge in the good-will of the
multitude, which is a great strength to any man; for both ministers and
mistresses choose popular and fashionable favorites. A man who solicits a
minister, backed by the general good-will and good wishes of mankind,
solicits with great weight and great probability of success; and a woman
is strangely biassed in favor of a man whom she sees in fashion, and hears
everybody speak well of. This useful art of insinuation consists merely of
various little things. A graceful motion, a significant look, a trifling
attention, an obliging word dropped 'a propos', air, dress, and a thousand
other undefinable things, all severally little ones, joined together, make
that happy and inestimable composition, THE ART OF PLEASING. I have in my
life seen many a very handsome woman who has not pleased me, and many very
sensible men who have disgusted me. Why? only for want of those thousand
little means to please, which those women, conscious of their beauty, and
those men of their sense, have been grossly enough mistaken to neglect. I
never was so much in love in my life, as I was with a woman who was very
far from being handsome; but then she was made up of graces, and had all
the arts of pleasing. The following verses, which I have read in some
congratulatory poem prefixed to some work, I have forgot which, express
what I mean in favor of what pleases preferably to what is generally
called mare solid and instructive:</p>
<p>"I would an author like a mistress try,<br/>
Not by a nose, a lip, a cheek, or eye,<br/>
But by some nameless power to give me joy."<br/></p>
<p>Lady Chesterfield bids me make you many compliments; she showed me your
letter of recommendation of La Vestres; with which I was very well
pleased: there is a pretty turn in it; I wish you would always speak as
genteelly. I saw another letter from a lady at Paris, in which there was a
high panegyrical paragraph concerning you. I wish it were every word of it
literally true; but, as it comes from a very little, pretty, white hand,
which is suspected, and I hope justly, of great partiality to you: 'il en
faut rabattre quelque chose, et meme en le faisant it y aura toujours
d'assez beaux restes'. Adieu.</p>
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