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"But a truce to these cynical remarks," I think I hear the reader say; "teach us the Art of Pleasing, and you will find plenty of willing disciples; for we are all anxious to please in society, and be well thought of in the world, but do not always know how to set about it. Let fops of all classes, the rude, the vapid, the affected, say what they will, they act the part most congenial to their capacity, and give themselves airs because they can do no better; they would gladly be distinguished for skill in the art of pleasing, be men of gallantry, of elegant and refined manners, if they could, and only pretend to undervalue and disdain that excellence which they cannot attain. No, no; only show us the way to please, and we shall gladly follow."

There may be some truth in this; but it is not easy to reduce the Art of Pleasing to rules and regulations. All that can be done is to call upon society to maintain their own dignity, to prevent them from affecting blindness, from shutting their eyes to the evils of the Sliding Scale, and from receiving counterfeit coin instead of real good breeding and manners. What single pen could polish down the vulgar barbarian, the bully of society? who can amend the pompous blockhead, the man of envious and envenomed vanity? what cure, short of the actual knout, can improve the jealous, vapid, affected, and pretending? what is to be done with the numerous class who purposely study the art of displeasing? some from the impulse of bad hearts and coarse minds; others from the silly vanity which makes them anxious to act the magnifico in so exalted a style as not to admit of their appearing polite or attentive to ordinary mortals; others, again, because they fear to fail in doing the agreeable, but are sure to succeed in acting the ruffian. No single effort can, I repeat, remedy these evils; all we can do is to hold up the mirror of truth, and shame society into the performance of its duty.

It was at a party only last winter, that Mr. Coarsegrain bandied words with Miss Smirkwell, who, forgetting that she was engaged to dance with him, had provided herself with another partner; and he was yet, notwithstanding such conduct, invited to almost every succeeding ball of the season. Ladies never jilt me about mere dances; the cruel dears reserve these tricks for matters that more nearly affect the heart; but had a lady cut me about a dance, I should only have expressed my regret at

her having forgot me so soon-should have assured her that a thousand years could not obliterate her image from the tablets of my memory. In such a case, the other cavaliero, unless a regular vulgarian, would instantly have withdrawn his claim, and declared that it was happiness enough for him to have been, even for a moment, thought worthy of dancing with Miss Smirkwell; who, as far as he was concerned, was to consider herself perfectly disengaged, and at full liberty to dance with any one deserving the honor. Such conduct would have led at once to smiles, bows, and pretty speeches, instead of frowns and harsh words, which should be considered as altogether excluded from ladies' society.

"But you forget," I think I hear Mrs. Huntwell say, "that Mr. Coarsegrain's estate is worth five thousand a-year.'

True, true; and this may account for the subsequent invitations, but cannot justify them.

At the same time I would recommend ladies never to make such double engagements; there can be no great difficulty in recollecting who is to be the partner for the third quadrille or second waltz; or if you have a bad memory, take a little ivory tablet with you, and register the gentlemen according to a German fashion, which I always thought a little affected. Inattention to this trifling matter-sometimes, I fear the result of a little vanity-occasions ill blood and bad feeling, and should be most carefully avoided. On the Continent, especially in France, it is a law de rigueur that no lady, after making such a mistake, dances again during the evening; and though I deem it ludicrous in the extreme to see a grim and moustachioed dandy keeping fierce watch to prevent a pretty girl from joining a quadrille, I still think it right to have some rein kept over ladies' caprices.

To return, however, to the direct thread of my subject.

Though the Art of Pleasing cannot be taught by mere rules, we may yet lay down some general principles for the guidance of those who are willing to profit by them. The simple Christian maxim, indeed, which tells us to do by others as we would be done by ourselves, contains the very es sence of all that can be said on the subject. But do we follow the maxim in our intercourse with the world? No, truly. Forgetting that it is far more meritorious to be beloved than admired, we go into society

to astonish the natives, to excite wonder, | in the praise of merit, grieve for the faults but rarely, indeed, with the least intention and errors of the fallible, smile and laugh— of evincing a particle of admiration for any and that right heartily, too-at the follies one else, the stoicism of the nil admirari of the vain, the ignorant, and pretending ! school being looked upon as the very per- There is, in fact, no conversation equal to fection of high breeding. And from whom that of a cheerful old lady. Nor are gendoes the reader suppose this boasted tone tlemen of talents, acquirements, and finishof fashion has been derived? From the ed manners, ever wanting in English socihigh, accomplished, and cultivated of the ety; you know them at once by their counearth? No, faith! from the very opposite tenances, by the truly British countenance, class; from the dull, the ignorant, and the the noblest the world has yet to show. savage. We who write have seen this They may chance to be neither peers nor species of fashionable stoicism displayed in millionaires, though the peerage is rich in the highest perfection sby Arowak Indians, such men, but folly only can act the port who deem it beneath their dignity to evince of the haughty exquisite in their presence. surprise or admiration on any occasion, as You cannot enter a gentleman's library, they wish it to be believed that they are however ill arranged, that is not full of perfectly familiar with all that is most ex-books which have been, and are to be, the cellent and exalted in the world. By the admiration of ages. You cannot pass united testimony of all African travellers, through the gallery where his fathers frown, every petty Negro despot excels in the same style of fashionable deportment, and retains as much apparent composure at the sight of a scarlet-bay's cloak and bottle of rum, that make his very heart throb again, as he would on beholding a bowl of palm wine, or ordinary piece of Negro-worked cloth. The merit of the nil admirari system is not, therefore, of a very high order or brilliant origin.

in "rude and antique portraiture around,"
without being struck by the noble linea-
ments that so often break through the bad
painting and atrocious costumes that dis-
figure our old family portraits. Nay, you
cannot walk in the worst laid-out flower-
garden, the most contracted lawn, or dingy
shrubbery, without finding constant objects
of admiration; for there is not a leaf that
grows, a flower that blooms, there is not a
sprig of heath that bends beneath the gales
of the north, that is not absolutely beauti-
ful, that does not bear the impress of a
mighty master-hand, which leaves all at-
tempts of worldly imitation at a distance,
measured only by immensity.
No-no,
trust none of this nil admirari stoicism, for

"The fool and dandy, Those sous of buttermilk and sugar candy,"

For my own part, I confess that I have no patience with my fashionable public on this point. A captain of the Royal Horse Grenadiers has certainly as much right to be fastidious as any one can have, and yet I never go into society, never move about the world with parties of pleasure, as parties are sometimes miscalled, without see-none but ing a vast deal that is to be admired. Where is the ball-room in Britain, in which you will not find many, very many pretty, often charming, women, with evidence of can pass, if only through the world of fashevery thing that is kind, generous, affec-ion, and declare that all is barren. Do not tionate, with intelligence and feeling suppose from this that I wish you to deal in beaming from animated eyes and expres- constant exclamations, and seem in ecstasy sive features, women, with the young of with every thing you see or hear. Very whom, whether plain or pretty, you almost far from it: exclamations and ecstasies are fancy yourself in love at first sight, while you feel that with the old you could instantly harmonize in thoughts, sentiments, and opinion? How delightful, indeed, is the society and conversation of an old lady, who retains the kindly feeling of youth, the frank generosity of heart, open to the impressions of all that is great, good, and beautiful; who joins to the result of education a knowledge of society, and the quick and just perception for which the sex are distinguished; who can appreciate and join

foolish; but I must insist on all ladies and gentlemen meeting a willingness to please them, with a cheerful readiness to be pleased, and shall always declare the stateliness. which affects to be above deriving pleasure from the sayings, doings, and showings of the company with which it associates, to be the height of bad manners.

The most certain mode of pleasing is, no doubt, to make others pleased with themselves; but as this principle can only be successfully acted upon in tête-à-tête con

versations, or in small parties, we must seems to say, "I have paid for my place, rather depend for success on general be-am determined to make the most of it, and havior, manner, and deportment: on our value not the ease and comfort of my neighknowledge of life, character, and of the bors one single straw," without feeling a particular company in which we may hap- sort of compassion for his sufferings. I fanpen to be thrown at the moment; for, cy such conduct can only result from a though there can be no rising above the cramped heart, in which disease has delevel of gentlemanlike society, the tone stroyed the fibres of all the best and noblest may, and often does, vary, according to feelings, and reduced the patient to a mere times, parties, and circumstances. In so- mass of bloated selfishness; or else that it ciety it is best, therefore, always to pre- is occasioned by some faulty conformation serve a calm, tranquil, but, at the same time, of the brain, that prevents the mind from cheerful deportment, evincing a constant being fairly seated on its throne of state, readiness to be pleased and amused, and casts it all away, and deprives it of room for as free from coldness, stiffness, and hauteur, that elastic, free, and buoyant action, which as from the eternal smile, smirk, and fid- clear and well-regulated intellects must negety efforts to please, often observable in cessarily enjoy. Who but a real sufferer well-meaning persons unused to society, as would lounge, boots and all, on a club-sofa, well as among foreigners. Vapid stiffness totally regardless of the comforts of others, and hauteur are offensive, insulting indeed, or lean, loutishly, and with outspread eland contrary to good manners; while bows, over the library table, concealing, in smirking and fidgety attention is embarrass- the study of his newspaper, half the latest ing to those who are its objects. To please, periodicals from general view? there must evidently be an easy amenity of deportment, completely at variance with the sliding scale rules, and as distant from abrupt forwardness as from cringing servil- says Persius, and I believe Pope also: and ity. A gentleman will always show that it is in a thousand ungraceful trifles of this deference to age, rank, and station, which kind, in the want of that general amenity is their due but, though I confess myself of manner which distinguishes all persons a great stickler for the attention due to rank, of good breeding, that folly and the selfishI do not see that a well-bred man will ness of the diseased heart are so conspicuspeak in a different manner and tone of ously displayed to the eye of the observer. voice when giving an ordinary answer, or Though ladies are always more graceful making an ordinary remark, to a peer, from what he would if giving an order to a porter. As said, I confess myself a stickler for the deference due to rank, always supposing that it is properly supported by conduct, manners, and acquirements, which can alone give it grace, for rank without them is rather a disgrace.

"And e'en his slightest actions mark the fool,"

than men, I must here warn them against the modern style of waltzing, which is the reverse of graceful, being little more than a mere romping twirl, intended only, as far as I can perceive, to make the parties giddy. The old waltz, sometimes called the Spanish waltz, was a very graceful dance; but its character is changed, and there is There is one thing which, philosopher as nothing either graceful or pleasing in seeI am, very much puzzles me, it is this:-ing gentlemen pulling and hauling their How happens it that courtesy and politeness, commodities so cheap that the mere wish to possess them already confers them, commodities which can never be detrimental, but are often highly beneficial to the owner, should, with all these advantages, be still so comparatively scarce in the world? I have often tried to solve the problem, but the only satisfactory conclusion I can arrive at is to suppose that rudeness results from some actual and afflicting disease of the head or heart. The consequence is, that I never see a man enter a railroad-car, mail-coach, or take his seat at a steam-boat dinner-table, in the care-me-not-style, that

partners on,-seeing the pretty pairs spinning round and round, jostling against each other-to say nothing of an occasional tumble-till the few who can keep time and step feel their heads going, and till the ladies are forced to lean, panting, and with flushed cheeks and heaving breasts, against the very walls of the room for support. Gallopades and polkas are worse still, for few, very few gentlemen can dance them, and with any but an actual opera-dancer this exhibition is ungraceful in the extreme. The gallop and polka step, in which gentlemen, with legs wide astride, push their fair partners along, is absolutely disgusting;

and I will hold no lady-mother guiltless never hear any thing said in praise of a who, after this public warning, shall allow pretty girl, without repeating it with all the her daughter to join such a brutal display. additions and embellishments in my power, In an ordinary way, young ladies may al- and you have full liberty to do the like. ways depend on obtaining easy forgiveness for a few trifling follies when committed in a cheerful and good-humored mood; but let them beware of any thing that is coarsely ungraceful. No pretty girl, no young lady, indeed, whether pretty or not, should ever, if she values true and gallant admiration, allow herself to be associated with the recollection of any thing that is markedly ungraceful, however harmless in itself, and should never, therefore, dance modern waltzes, polkas, or gallopades.

I shall not repeat here what I formerly said in praise of conversation, though the subject reminds me of a trifling adventure which lately befell the distinguished member of a university, who maintained that he had principally acquired his knowledge by conversation, and always declared that there was no person from whom some information might not be gained. My own opinion would, rather, perhaps, be in favor of fe male conversation, as I am inclined to believe ladies the best instructors; I can safely say, at least, "I learned the little that I know from them;" this, however, has nothing to do with the adventure of the learned professor, to which we must return. Our friend finding himself one day tête-àtête in a mail-coach with a sober, sedate, and respectable-looking man, determined at once to make the most of him, and to learn as much from his fellow-traveller, as the latter might be able to teach.

They were no sooner fairly started, therefore, than the professor commenced with the usual introductory subject of the weather. Receiving only polite monosyllabical replies, he went over all the other topics most generally resorted to on such occasions,-the appearance of the country, the crops, prospect of the harvest; but all with no better result, the sedate-looking man only assenting to whatever the man of learning advanced. Not to be driven from his favorite theory, the professor went at last more directly to work, saying, "Pray, sir, is there any subject on which you would be willing to converse?"

Since I have fallen into the didactic vein, I may as well repeat here some injunctions formerly given in regard to conversation, and which cannot, indeed, be too strongly enforced. I must, therefore, beg my fashionable public not only to understand, as all will pretend to do, but constantly to bear in mind, that all conversation is strictly confidential. There is no such thing as justifying an objectional speech, or remark, by saying that you heard it mentioned publicly at Lord A's table or Lady B's party. There is no such thing as public conversation, properly so called; there are public speeches made in parliament, on the hustings, at public meetings, and on other public occasions, when public reporters generally attend, and which you may repeat and comment on as much as you like: but the conversation of society, whether held in tête-à-tête meetings or crowded ball-rooms, is, in principle, sacred and confidential, and can never be repeated without a breach of good faith and good feeling. How would a gentleman like to know that a remark made at his table had been repeated, to the detriment of private character or injury of private feeling? Or, what should we think of any one who, receiving a visitor in his library, would make It is very unfortunate that there are so mischief of the conversation that might many ladies and gentlemen who take infithere pass in private? Now please to un-nitely more pleasure in hearing their derstand me. I purposely say that the conversation of society is confidential in principle, because it is not to authorize you or any one to repeat a single word capable of causing pain, still less of proving injurious to others; but it does not, in practice, prevent any one from repeating good sayings, good anecdotes, any thing that may be pleasing, instructive, and amusing, provided it is untinged by slander, and free from the seeds of mischief. For my own part, I

"Try me on leather, and I am your man," was the reply of the vis-à-vis, a stout, honest currier, as chance would have it.

friends and neighbors run down, slandered, and abused, only in a trifling way, of course, than in hearing them praised and admired. The consequence is, that society is infested with a class of persons who make the gathering, forging, and improving of slanders their actual business, their very carte d'entrée into company. It is true that no one now ventures upon slanders or tales of scandal in large parties, or within hearing of many; for, in the mass,

made.' And you a painter of manners asleep at such a time-he, he, he!"

"Oh! Asmodeus, is it you? Sit down and take a glass, and don't fash me about manners; they are now estimated by a sliding-scale, calculated by the rule of three, and not worth painting."

"A cynical mood is the very mood for the scene about to be acted; quick, therefore, your cap and your capote, the night is cold, and we have a long flight before us. Ere that clock strikes two, and it wants but a few minutes, a brilliant illustration of the consistency of fashionable doctrines will be furnished you. Time flies fast, and he must not outstrip us."

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"Well, then, if it must be so, here goes!" Away, away! hold on by my crutch; 'tis safer than some of those that form the very pillars of nations."

society are ashamed of the practice and dare not sanction it; but in private the vipers are listened to, though heartily despised even by their most willing auditors. Yet is the habit of thus imbibing poison by the ear highly injurious to the heart, and ultimately to the mind also, for good feelings are essentially the source whence our best and brightest ideas are derived; and oft-repeated slanders will not only obtain some belief in the end, but the habit of listening leads to a species of cynical misanthropy, which makes us look rather on the dark than on the bright side of human nature; makes us act a poor, timid, and distrustful part through life, depressing even the best elements of happiness mixed up in our composition. Nor must we suppose that the regular inventor and retailer of long tales of slander is the only offender. Far from it; there is the more cunning and equally base dealer in innuendoes, who throws out his hints before the envious and malignant, trusting that the poison may be passed on from slave to slave, till, gathering in its progress, it attains at last the fullgrown strength of infamy worthy of the dishonorable source whence it arose. I am told that backbiters often find their way into the presence of great men, and it may be so, but I am very certain that highminded men look upon them with the scorn they deserve. The subject should, perhaps, deserve a whole chapter; but, for the present, I must conclude; and, to cut the matter short, cannot do better than absolve the public, fashionable and unfashionable, from giving the slightest credit to tale-bear-Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.' ers and slander-mongers of whatever class or kind they may be; and this for the best of all possible reasons, that the false of heart will be false of tongue whenever it suits their purpose.

"Ha! the sea air; its freshness is reviving to the heart of an Englishman, which swells with delight as he thinks of the glorious and boundless domain subject to his country's flag; as it reminds him of the gallant days when the bounding waves of ocean carried on their breasts the mighty armaments that freed the world from bondage, and filled earth's farthest bound with the fame of their exploits. But times are sadly changed now. Poh! what a fishy

smell; Boulogne, to a certainty!"
"The smell of the continent, as you
termed it yourself, Captain Sabertash."
"La belle France, then. Well, the
French have no idea of irony, and

La Seine, the old Tuileries; the column of Austerlitz, that Cockneys think the finest thing in the world; the Chausse d' Antin, and, since we are arrived, unroof— unroof quickly! but sparingly, if you please; for, at this hour, we might see more than discreet eyes would wish to gaze upon."

"I like to hear you who have been quartered at Paris talk of this hour.' At what hour would it be different either here or in London? But I have been often enough in France to recollect the good French maxim, Egard aux convenances— fear nothing, therefore, and look."

"Ha! captain, captain! you a painter of manners, and already slumbering in your arm-chair two hours after midnight, at the very time when you ought to be on the alert, at the very time, indeed, when, veiled by darkness, so many mortals fancy they can safely throw off the cloak, beneath which they strive to hide the workings of the heart from the full blaze of day. When "An elegant salon, truly; a gentleman's so many light and lively hearts are thrown library, also fitted up in good style; they off their balance by waltzing, when cham- manage these things very well in Paris, but pagne makes even drawling dandies speak they are still very far behind us in taste. frankly out like mortal men, and then A fine painting that, a pretty girl it repre'tremble at the sound themselves have sents; and who is the young man reclining

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