nch, 'bons diables'. The truth is, they
are people without any parts or fancy, and who, having no will of their
own, readily assent to, concur in, and applaud, whatever is said or done
in the company; and adopt, with the same alacrity, the most virtuous or
the most criminal, the wisest or the silliest scheme, that happens to be
entertained by the majority of the company. This foolish, and often
criminal complaisance flows from a foolish cause,--the want of any other
merit. I hope that you will hold your place in company by a nobler
tenure, and that you will hold it (you can bear a quibble, I believe,
yet) 'in capite'. Have a will and an opinion of your own, and adhere to
them steadily; but then do it with good humor, good-breeding, and (if you
have it) with urbanity; for you have not yet heard enough either to
preach or censure.

All other kinds of complaisance are not only blameless, but necessary in
good company. Not to seem to perceive the little weaknesses, and the idle
but innocent affectations of the company, but even to flatter them, in a
certain manner, is not only very allowable, but, in truth, a sort of
polite duty. They will be pleased with you, if you do; and will certainly
not be reformed by you if you do not.

For instance: you will find, in every group of company, two principal
figures, viz., the fine lady and the fine gentleman who absolutely give
the law of wit, language, fashion, and taste, to the rest of that
society. There is always a strict, and often for the time being, a tender
alliance between these two figures. The lady looks upon her empire as
founded upon the divine right of beauty (and full as good a divine right
it is as any king, emperor, or pope, can pretend to); she requires, and
commonly meets with, unlimited passive obedience. And why should she not
meet with it? Her demands go no higher than to have her unquestioned
preeminence in beauty, wit, and fashion, firmly established. Few
sovereigns (by the way) are so reasonable. The fine gentleman's claims of
right are, 'mutatis mutandis', the same; and though, indeed, he is not
always a wit 'de jure', yet, as he is the wit 'de facto' of that company,
he is entitled to a share of your allegiance, and everybody expects at
least as much as they are entitled to, if not something more. Prudence
bids you make your court to these joint sovereigns; and no duty, that I
know of, forbids it. Rebellion here is exceedingly dangerous, and
inevitably puni