the delight of his friends, and an honour to his coun try, is in danger of changing him into a morose au surly misanthrope, discontented with himself, the world, and all its enjoyments.

This weakness (and I think it a great one) of quarrelling with the world, would never have been carried the length I have lamented in some of my friends, had they allowed themselves to reflect on the folly of supposing, that the opinions of the rest of mankind are to be governed by the standard which they have been pleased to erect, had they considered what a state of langour and insipidity would be produced, if every individual should have marked out to him the rank he was to hold, and the line in which he was to move, without any danger of being jostled in his progress.

The Author of Nature has diversified the mind of man with different and contending passions, which are brought into action as chance or circumstances direct, or as he is pleased to order in the wisdom of his providence. Our limited faculties, far from comprehending the universal scale of being, or taking in at one glance what is best and fittest for the purposes of creation, cannot even determine the best mode of governing the little spot that surrounds us.

I believe most men have, at times, wished to be creators, possessed of the power of moulding the world to their fancy; but they would act more wisely to mould their own prepossessions and prejudices to the standard of the world, which may be done, in every age and situation, without transgressing the bounds of the most rigid virtue. A distaste at mankind never fails to produce peevishness and discontent, the most unrelenting tyrants that ever swayed the human breast; that cloud which they cast upon the soul, shuts out every ray that should warm to manly exertion, and hides, in the bosom of indolence and spleen, virtues formed to illumine the mind.

I must, therefore, earnestly recommend to my readers to guard against the first approaches of misanthropy, by opposing reason to sentiment, and reflecting on the injury they do themselves and society, by tamely retreating from injustice. The passive virtues only are fit to be buried in a cloister; the firm and active mind disdains to recede, and rises upon opposition.

The cultivation of cheerfulness and good-humour, will be found another sovereign antidote to this mental disorder. They are the harbingers of virtue, and produce that serenity which disposes the mind to friendship, love, gratitude, and every other social affection; they make us contented with ourselves, our friends, and our situation, and expand the heart to all the interests of humanity.

Τ

No. XL. SATURDAY, JUNE 12.

SIR,

To the Author of the Mirror.

ACCORDING to my promise, I send you the second division of my lecture on Simulation, as it respects the internal part of the science of politeness.

"Among barbarous nations, it has been observed, "the emotions of the mind are not more violently

felt than strongly expressed. Grief, anger and "jealousy, not only tear the heart, but disfigure the "countenance; while love, joy and mirth, have their "opposite effects on the soul, and are visible, by op"posite appearances, in the aspect. Now, as a very "refined people are in a state exactly the reverse of " a very rude one, it follows, that, instead of allow

"ing the passions thus to lord it over their minds "and faces, it behoves them to mitigate and restrain "those violent emotions, both in feeling and appear"ance; the latter, at least, is within the power of art "and education, and to regulate it is the duty of a "well-bred person. On this truly philosophical prin"ciple is founded that ease, indifference, or non"chalance, which is the great mark of a modern "man of fashion.

"That instance of politeness which I mentioned "(somewhat out of place indeed) in the first part of "this discourse, the conduct of a fine lady at a tra"gedy, is to be carried into situations of real sorrow "as much as possible. Indeed, though it may seem 66 a bold assertion, I believe the art of putting on in"difference, about the real object, is not a whit more "difficult than that of assuming it about the theatri❝cal. I have known several ladies and gentlemen "who have acquired the first in perfection, without "being able to execute the latter, at least to execute "it in that masterly manner which marks the per"formances of an adept. One night, last winter, I "heard Bob Bustle talking from a front-box, to an ❝ acquaintance in the pit, about the death of their "late friend Jack Riot." Riot is dead, Tom; "kick'd this morning, egad!"-" Riot dead! poor "Jack! what did he die of?"-" One of your dam"nation apoplectics kill'd him in the chucking of a "bumper; you could scarce have heard him whea "zle!"Damn'd bad that! Jack was an honest fel"low!-What becomes of his grey poney?" The "poney is mine."-Yours!"-Why, yes; I staked "my white and liver-coloured bitch Phillis against "the grey poney, Jack's life to mine for the season.' 66 -At that instant, a lady entering the box (it was "about the middle of the fourth act) obliged Bob to "shift his place; he sat out of ear-shot of his friend "in the pit, biting his nails, and looking towards the

"stage, in a sort of nothing-to doish way, just as the "last parting scene between Jaffier and Belvidera was "going on there. I observed (I confess, with regret, "for he is one of my favourite pupils) the progress "of its victory over Bob's politeness. He first grew "attentive, then humm'd a tune, then grew attentive "again, then took out his toothpick case, then looked "at the players in spite of him, then grew serious, "then agitated-till, at last, he was fairly beat out "of his ground, and obliged to take shelter behind Lady Cockatoo's head, to prevent the disgrace of "being absolutely seen weeping.

"But, to return from this digression.This Si“mulation of indifference in affliction is equally a "female as a male accomplishment. On the death ❝of a very, very near relation, a husband, for in"stance, custom has established a practice, which "polite people have not yet been able to overcome; "a lady must stay at home, and play at cards for a "week or two. But the decease of any one more dis"tant, she is to talk of as a matter of very little moment, (6 except when it happens on the eve of an assembly, “a ball, or a ridotto; at such seasons she is allowed "to regret it as a very unfortunate accident. This "rule of deportment extends to distresses poignant "indeed; as, in perfect good-breeding, the fall of a "set of Dresden, the spilling of a plate of soup on 66 a new brocade, or even a bad run of cards, is to be "borne with as equal a countenance as may be.

"Anger, the second passion above enumerated, is "to be covered with the same cloak of ease and good "manners; injury, if of a deep kind, with profes ❝sions of esteem and friendship. Thus, though it "would be improper to squeeze a gentleman's hand, "and call him my dear Sir, or my best friend, when "we mean to hit him a slap on the face, or to throw a "bottle at his head; yet it is perfectly consistent "with politeness, to shew him all those marks of ci

"vility and kindness, when we intend to strip him of "his fortune at play, to counterplot him at an elec❝tion, or to seduce his wife. The last-mentioned "particular should naturally lead to the consideration "of jealousy; but on this it is needless to insist, as, "among well-bred people, the feeling itself is quite ❝in disuse.

"Love is one of those passions which politeness "lays us under a particular obligation to disguise, as "the discovery of it to third persons is peculiarly of"fensive and disagreeable. Therefore, when a man "happens to sit by a tolerably handsome girl, for "whom he does not care a farthing, he is at liberty "to kiss her hand, call her an angel, and tell her "he dies for her; but, if he has a real tendre for her, "he is to stare in her face with a broad unfeeling "look, tell her she looks monstrous ill this evening, "and that her coiffeuse has pinned her cap shocking"ly awry. From not attending to the practice of "this rule amongst people of fashion, the inferior "world has been led to imagine, that matrimony "with them is a state of indifference or aversion; "whereas, in truth, the appearances from which "that judgment is formed, are the strongest indica"tions of connubial happiness and affection.

"On the subject of joy, or at least of mirth, that แ great master of our art, my Lord Chesterfield, has "been precise in his directions. He does not allow "of laughter at all; by which, however, he is to be "understood as only precluding that exercise as a "sign, common with the vulgar, of internal satisfac"tion it is by no means to be reprobated as a dis"guise for chagrin, or an engine of wit; it is, in"deed the readiest of all repartees, and will often “give a man of fashion the victory over an inferior, "with every talent, but that of assurance, on his ❝side.