THE WHOLE ART OF CONVERSE: CONTAINING Necessary instructions for all Persons, of what Quality, and Condition soever. WITH The Characters of the four Humours, of the English and French, as to their way of Conversing. By D. A. Gent. LONDON, Printed for Joseph Hindmarsh, Bookseller to His Royal Highness, at the Sign of the Black-Bull in Cornhill, near the Exchange. 1683. THE Most material CONTENTS OF THIS BOOK. ARTICLE. I. 1. WHat this Art is, and its different Branches. 2. In what Sense a civil Converse is taken here. 3. That Pride is destructive to Civility. 4. That 'tis rudeness to speak ill of our Neighbours in Conversation. 5. 'Tis rudeness to be too talkative in Conversation. 6. That anger is against the Laws of a civil Converse. 7. Obstinacy is contrary to the Laws of Civility. 8. 'Tis inconsistent with Civility to force Drink on a Stranger, or any other in the Company. 9 To speak too high is against the Laws of a civil Converse. 10. That frequent Oaths are inconsistent with Civility. 11. When Raillery is consistent, and when inconsistent with Civility. 12. That excessive Flattery is a great rudeness. 13. How we may shun Flattery, and Criticism. 14. That we ought to Conform our Discourse to the Inclination, and Capacity of those we Converse. 15. That 'tis a duty of Civility, to Converse sometimes with our Friends by Letters. 16. That all Jest or Earnest tending to Impiety, is an extreme rudeness. 17. That 'tis an extreme rudeness to speak to the disadvantage of any Nation in presence of the Natives. ARTICIE. II. 1. OF the familiar Conversation. 2. Of the Learned Conversation. 3. Of the Interested Conversation. 4. The Character of the Sanguine Humour. 5. The Character of the Choleric. 6. The Character of the Melancholy Humour. 7. The Character of the Phlegmatic. 8. The Character of the English, as to their way of Conversing. 9 The Character of the French, as to their way of Conversing. ERRATA, Page 33. last line, read inbred. Page 38. last line, read Immoral. THE Whole ART of CONVERSE. SECTION. I. What this ART is. A Moderate care of a good Repute is laudable, as being commended to us by the Holy Writings, and a certain ambition to conquer the Hearts of such as we are ordinarily conversant with, is a rational, and lawful sort of Self-love; but neither of these we shall ever attain to, unless we understand perfectly the Art of Converse, and how to practise exactly its Precepts in every particular conjuncture. Hence we may easily conjecture the Nature, or the Essence and End of this Art; for if you mind to play the Logician, and give an accurate definition thereof, you may call it a habit, teaching us how to demean ourselves with our Neighbours, in order to gain their Love and Eeem, which two things have such a dependency the one of the other, that they go commonly together: whether it be, that Esteem is the source of Love, or Love, which I am more apt to believe, causeth us to contemplate the beloved Object in such a bias as we magnify in our corrupted judgements, its least perfections. SECT. II. In what sense a civil Converse is taken here. A Civil Conversation may be taken either as related to our Actions, or to our Discourse; in the first sense 'tis a certain accurateness and decency in all our Actions, or in our outward Behaviour. I intent to speak little or nothing of this kind of Civility. 1. Because there is a French Treatise Englished on the same Subject, accurate and particular enough; which, though it regards more especially the French customs, may easily be adapted to the English Humour and Civility, now not much different from the French. 2. Because I thought it always superfluous, or at ●east of little use, to prescribe Rules or Ceremonies, that change not on●● every Age, but almost every Year. 'Tis then best for every one as to this part, to observe and follow the customs of his own Country, provided they be not entirely barbarous, and repugnant to the known practices of Civility of these Nations that are commonly accounted Civil; as France and Italy ever were, and all Great Britain, England I mean, and Scotland, undoubtedly now are. If we take a civil Conversation, as related not to men's Actions, but to their Discourse, by the general Notion given above of the Art of Conversing; we shall say 'tis a certain exactness in all our words and expressions, in order to gain, conserve, or increase the esteem and friendship of those we Converse with: The Rules than we must square our Actions by in a civil Converse, are unchangeable, and neither confined to time nor place, but ar● all of all Ages, and of a good relish with all Nations, as being grounde● on common Sense, not on men's changeable Fancies. These are but two, and easy to be retained: The first is, to say nothing that may diminish the Esteem and Love Men have for us: The second is, to speak such things as may contribute towards the increase of both: how, and with what accuracy we are to observe these Precepts, the ensuing Section shall declare. SECT. III. That Pride is destructive to Civility. A Civil Converse, as I have said above, is a certain exactness in all our words and expressions, in order to gain, conserve, or increase the Esteem and Friendship of those we converse withal; that nothing is more destructive to it than Pride, every one understands, that knows contraries to be inconsistent together, and that Civility is nothing else, if well reflected on, but a respectuous Humility. I mean not here that inward Pride which we are neither concerned with nor to judge of, but that outward and proud Behaviour, either in Gests or Speech, whereby those we speak to, understand we are wise in ou● own conceit, though perhaps simple and vain Fools in their thoughts Persons of Quality betray themselves to a secret contempt of those they speak to, if they presume too much upon their Nobility, or seem to slight others on this account only that they are (as they speak sometimes in Scotland) but bare Gentlemen. 'Tis a rudeness scarce pardonable especially before persons we are not acquainted with, to run out in the praise of our Ancestors, for that would be too visible a vanity, and a too affected desire of Honour. Some are so extravagant in this Point, as to entertain Strangers with nothing else but long Descriptions of their own Pedigree, and Grandeur of their forerunners, true or false. I say true or false, because I have known several in Foreign Countries, and I wish none of my own Countrymen may be guilty of this insufferable vanity; who, though they were in extreme misery, pretended to be Cousin Germane, or near Relations to the greatest Noblemen of Scotland, upon this account only, That they were either hamilton's, Douglasses, gordon's, seaton's, Maxuelles, etc. Persons of Quality wrong themselves more than they are ware of, when they rail so violently against disproportionate Alliances; wherein, though I grant they may have reason when the disproportion is too great, or the quality not recompensed by the quantity, yet, nevertheless they are guilty of an extreme rudeness, by discovering thus in a familiar Converse, what they call a Noble Spirit, and others of as sound Sense, think and call an Antichristian Pride; which is as yet more insufferable in such, as by their Birth can pretend no advantage above their Neighbours. If such make appear this passion to be their predominant amongst their equals, or before their superiors, they lose without doubt the Esteem of those, and the Love of these, and are wholly incapable of all civil Converse: whose limits we still outgo, to speak generally whensoever we say any thing tending directly or indirectly, to the discovery of our Secret Pride; as those do, who boast perpetually of their Warlike Exploits, with as great confidence, as if the Hearers judged them not to be Liars: and if they were put to it, extraordinary Cowards. Others do out-weary your Patience with a number of innumerable idle Circumstances of their Affairs, or their Suits in Law: How they have put a trick upon this Man, by what means they have engaged that other in their Interest: and if they had not been very active in the business, all had been gone, etc. And when they have spent half an Hour, and all your Patience, in saying the same thing, with these idle Repetitions of quoth he, and quoth she, they shall begin immediately the same Story to the first that comes in, without giving them so much time as to edge in a word. Others will trouble the whole company with a long Panegyric of their good conduct in the guidance of their Domestic Affairs: they will give you an exact Account of the splendour of their Table, of their ordinary and extraordinary Expenses, of their Alms and Liberalities, and of their least Concerns, if they hope by such petty Narratives, either your Esteem or Applause. 'Tis odds to be in the company of some Women, but they will run out in the praise of their Children, and lull you asleep with the petty Dialogues they have daily together. I was acquainted with a Gentlewoman in the South of Scotland, who was a burden to the whole Country she lived in upon this account: Her first Compliment in her visits to her Friends, was always, If they had not seen her fine, her lovely, her unparallelable Boy? She was so Complaisant, as never to change this discourse, whatever bias ye had taken to be rid of it; If she had been interrupted for a moment, that she might fetch her breath, she would instantly commence again her first unpleasant Tune, and inform you of all the motions of her fine Boy; How he weeped, how he laughed, how he moved his feet, his eyes, and his hands, how he uttered to her in half words, his young and tender Affections. Some again will force you Will ye Nill ye, to make an undeserved Elogium of their Children by their own good example: They are not (say they) like others, God be blessed, they are Fatherlike, sharp, witty, and pretty, hopeful, and what not? as if you did take as much pleasure in hearing these little Tales, as they to tell them. Let these, and the like defects, true Offsprings of Pride, be diligently shunned, by all such as pretend to be accounted civil Conversants. SECT. iv That 'tis rudeness to speak ill of our Neighbours in Conversation. SOme have so little judgement, as to imagine they cannot Establish their own Repute upon a surer ground, than on the Ruin of their Neighbour's goodname; they call all the World (themselves only excepted) Fools, and on this account, they would be looked upon as Wits, or Stars of the first Magnitude. Such Men are most of all uncivil; they may be perhaps admired, and believed by the undiscerning sort, and such as are as unprovided of sound Sense, and true Wit, as themselves: but they shall never please solid judgements, and such as have both Science to discern what is praiseworthy, and Conscience, not to undervalue through envy, the Endowments either of Art, or Nature, they see in others, and cannot attain to If you say to Men of this temper, such a one is a complete Gentleman, they will presently, if Nature has bestowed upon them any fluency of Language, make an Anatomy of him with their sharp Tongues, in aim to Ruin, if they can, his Repute, as over-shaddowing theirs. They will tell you, if you call him a Scholar, he is a Pedant, if Eloquent, he speaks much Nonsense, if he be a Judge, he is Partial: if you say he is an Author, and distinguisheth himself by his Learning, from the common sort, he will then undoubtedly be a mark for envy to aim at, especially if Native of the same Country, few being Prophets at home. They shall assure you his Works are not worth your while, though perhaps they never read what they condemn, and are not capable to write so well. We should on this account, abstain from censuring others, and not judge of Arts, till we be Artists. But such is the malice of some, that what they cannot reach to, they blame through jealousy in others: If you encourage such by approving of, or adding to these Affronts, they put upon the Dead sometimes, as well as the Living, you ought to be accounted ill-bred as they are, and uncivil. Detraction so inconsistent, as we may gather out of the foregoing Lines, with the Rules of true Civility, is yet more ordinary amongst Women, than among Men, because they are generally an unthinking sort of Creatures, and scarce reflecsive on what they say, being easily overruled by their passions, and commonly not capable to revenge themselves otherwise than with their Tongues. When they meet together in a familiar Converse, after their ordinary Ceremonies, and mutual Inquiries of the price of every thing they wear: 'tis odds, but some of the company will take occasion to say, Such a Lady, or such a Gentlewoman, goes too fine, and far above her quality; she is talked of on that account all the City over, as if she had not all this for nothing, she nevertheless will judge no body: but such a thing is discoursed of in every Corner. The Ice being thus broken, another will utter her mind on the same matter more flatly, and call her base, infamous, and what not? as if she were Innocency itself, and not a Subject of discourse to the World on the same account. For 'tis observable, the most debauched Women are pronest to condemn others for Crimes they know themselves guilty of. If they imagine they are injured by any person whatsomever, they will make (I may so say) an exact dissection both of his Body and Soul, omitting nothing that rage can invent to black his Repute. Before they conceived this Immortal hatred against him, they spoke to his advantage on all occasions; but now, since 'tis his misfortune to displease them, he hath lost both his Wit and Judgement, he is silly, simple, etc. But this is only the defect of ordinary Women, seldom to, be met with in Ladies of a Noble Education, and Great Quality; whose Circles I conceive to be the best Schools of Civility, because of an extraordinary complacency we are then resolved to, in compliance to their Imperious Humours: There you shall hear them excuse ingeniously the imperfections though never so real, of such as are ill spoken of in their presence, because they are fully persuaded to demean themselves otherways in such Conjunctures, would prove a breach both of Charity and Civility. SECT. V 'tis rudeness to be too talkative in Conversation. TO be too talkative in Conversing with our Friends, is a mark of a weak judgement, and proper to those, who by an overthrow of that Order Nature has Established, speak before they think, as many, yea, most Women do, especially those of a Choleric Complexion; such are commonly most eloquent, or rather (if I may say so) most loquent, about trifles and small matters, whereon a judicious Man, because of the elevation of his Genius, finds nothing to say. What will they not say about a Hood, a Scarf, a Point de Venice? and how many words will they not spend to express but little or no Sense? You may observe them in Conversation, little reflecsive on what is said, but infinitely desirous you put quickly an end to your Discourse that they may commence their endless Tale, and often senseless too. If they happen to be silenced by another, whose Devil is more talkative than theirs, they become on a sudden ill humoured, because their Tongue is tied up: but the company once dismissed, if they can have Patience till then, they let it furiously lose again against their Servants, or presents itself first to their sight. Men are no less guilty of this Sin against the Laws of a civil Converse, especially those of an advanced Age, who because of their experience of things past, think it not lawful for greener years to speak in their presence. Their grey hairs I confess, exact of us a particular respect, and on this account 'tis civil to applaud sometimes, through an Innocent complacency to what they say, though we be of a contrary Opinion; yet on the other side, Discretion requires they should consider they cannot be but importune to us, by their long and languishing Narratives, tending always to the blame of present times, and praise of the past. Laudator temporis acti— Se puero, censor castigororque minorum. Others will take not indeed the bit, but which is no less uncivil, the word out of your Mouth, and prevent the end of your discourse sometimes by an insufferable rudeness, telling you to make haste, to put an end: or more Rustic like yet, to be silent, and let them speak; which is never lawful to do, unless those we treat thus familiarly, be our Servants of the lowest rank. We must then in our Speech, as in our Actions, make choice of what is judged to be a middle between the two vicious extremes: for if Loquacity be forbidden us by the Rules of Civility, I am of Opinion, too much Taciturnity is no less contrary to it For if it be not the product of a Natural Stupidity, 'tis always an evident mark, we esteem little those we Converse withal, which above all things we must shun, if we desire to be accounted Civil. An obstinate silence is affected prudently by some in Conversation; either to hid their little Talon of Elocution, or to gain more esteem amongst Men, who commonly admire most what they are least acquainted with. SECT. VI That anger is against the Laws of a civil Converse. AS moderation in our words and expressions, is the best disposition can be imagined to a civil Behaviour in Conversation, so nothing more destructive to it than an undaunted passion, and a sudden anger, upon all Occurrencies: Some are as changeable as weathercocks in their humours, they know not what they would be at, and you can hardly say any thing that pleaseth them. If you offer them your service, and profess your zeal for their Concerns, they shall either return you no answer at all, or which is worse, a disobliging one, not reflecting what you have done for their Interest, but on some inconsiderable failures, you have perhaps admitted in the performance of that duty you are owing them. Such people are the pests of all civil Converse, and on this account, if in Civility we can, are to be shunned. They are (I may so say) the incen●ives of Quarrels, and restless Disturbers of all those they Converse with; the Standards by, look as amazed at one another, whilst a Hellish fury vomits out a part of her ill humour against either the Dead, or the absent, or which is yet a greater rudeness, against some of those which are present: such are little beholding to their Parents for their Education, they have never been curbed in their Youth, and their being always used to do their own will makes them now insufferably wilful. They often forget so far the respect they own to Strangers though of an inferior quality, that in their presence upon all contingencies, they will rage's and froth against their servants, with most uncharitable exaggerations of their least, or fancied misdemeanours: You shall hear them the whole time of a Dinner, whosoever's at their Table, murmuring, repining, frowning at whom they know not, nor at what: nothing relisheth according to their taste, none can serve them to satisfaction; the fall of a Spoon, of a Glass, or some like accident, puts them in, or rather quite out of humour again. What judgement can we frame of those, in whom we observe such continual Distempers? This discomposure of their passions, hinders us to conceive either a great Opinion of their Virtue, or to love tenderly their Persons. There is then a certain calm we must endeavour to attain to in Conversation, a certain peaceable temper we must needs be possessed of, if we will neither be troublesome to ourselves, nor others. By this moderation we shall gain Authority over those we speak to, and regain their esteem, if perhaps by our former indiscretion we had lost it; to demean ourselves otherwise 'tis weakness, and holds too much of a Childish, or Womanish humour: though we cannot pull our passions out by the root, 'tis in our power to hold them down for a time at least, whilst we Converse with our Friends, or Strangers: and who is not able to dissemble thus far, is unfit for all command, and not very apt neither to obey. SECT. VII. Obstinacy in our proper sentiments, is contrary to Civility. SOme are so possessed with the Spirit of Contradiction, that they are ready to oppose whatever you shall advance, whether they think i● true or false; They are falsely persuaded they can take no better Method, to convince you of the sharpness of their Wit, which sometime I confess they do show, but on th● other side they lose all the esteem we had formerly conceived of thei● judgement. This is the ordinary defect of young and unexperienced Scholars, when they come first from the University, or as they say commonly, fresh off the Irons, they will undertake to prove every thing by a Sillogism in form, or an Argument in mode and figure. A little experience of the World, and some months Converse with the judicious sort, will soon rid them of this Pedantic Air, so opposite to Civility, and common Sense. I pretend not nevertheless to banish all disputes, and discrepancy of Opinions, from a civil Converse: for that were neither rational, nor possible, since Yes and No, are the very Soul and Life thereof. My design only here, is to Advertise you, we must submit sometimes our judgement to others, and shun upon all emergencies Obstinacy, the product either of great Pride, or little Insight: We may expose our Reasons with modesty, which, if our Friends yield not to, we must Acquiesce, and let every Man abound in his own sense. But to prevent prudently certain necessary engagements, to stand stiffly to our own sentiments, we must shun all debates in matters, not understood by those we converse with; for they being not perhaps humble enough to submit to our judgement, will immediately oppose our sentiments; and if superior to us in quality, pretend to the advantage by Authority, when reason serves not their turn. With these, I say, for rests sake, let us have no debates, if we can avoid them, lest we betray either them, or ourselves, to an uncivility. Conformably to this Rule, 'tis always safer to submit to the sentiments of such as we depend on, tho' perhaps not so well grounded on reason, as our own; at least if our familiarity with them permits us to oppose sometimes what they say, we must do it so, that without giving the least advantage, we may still seem to yield to them the debate: alleging for instance, his Lordship taketh the disputed Point in such or such a sense, in which we shall say, and show 'tis a pure Truth: You, and his Grace, or his Lordship, being by this industry, of the same Opinion, you shall draw the whole company to a consent without opposition. If we be at variance with our equals upon any disputable Point, we may dispute it freely, shunning all rude and disdainful expressions; that it may appear we pretend only to a clear discovery of the Truth, not to a Victory, or Triumph over our Friend, as our Enemy. If we debate, which we should not easily do, with our inferiors, one thing particularly we must be ware of, not so much to over-awe them by a contemptful expression, as by a convincing reason; which, if we cannot perform, let us not discover by a sudden fit of anger, our ridicule Ambition, to appear in all we either say, or do, Infallible. SECT. VIII. 'Tis inconsistent with Civility to force Drink on a Stranger, or any other in the company. I Say, to force, for a kindly invitation once, or twice, is so far from being a rudeness, that it is a necessary duty of Civility; I confess, this sort of importunity is commonly the product of a noble, and generous Heart, desirous to welcome Strangers and Friends, at any rate: But if we reflect seriously on the undecency of the action in itself, and the inconveniencies we expose our Friends to, by such a cruel kindness, we shall instantly blush, and be ashamed at our pretended Civility, which, though your Friend cannot but take well, and as a kindness, because of the Principle it comes from: yet, he cannot but be extremely offended thereat, because you endanger by this violence, his Health, Life, and Repute: tho' this abomination is become now so general, that some glory in it, as if it were a honourable thing, and praiseworthy: which rudeness I observed no where so frequent, as in Great Britain, and is I may say, without exaggeration, the vilest and most absurd can be imagined. I cannot compare this barbarous custom of forcing Drink upon Men, to a thing it resembles more, than Treason: for under a colourable pretence of Love, Kindness, and Esteem, you betray your Friend. First, to Sin, Secondly, to Contempt, Thirdly, to a Thousand irregularities; which a Man, if he deserves that Name, being now rather a Beast, will be apt to commit in the heat of such immoderate Riots. Yea, I say more, you are so far guilty of betraying your Friend, that you are (though perhaps not designedly) the cause of his being either Robbed, or Murdered: at least you expose him to such mischiefs, or which is all one, and no less to be feared, to a violent and sudden Death, by falling either in Fire or Water. The French are to be commended on this account, they Repute it, and with all reason, an unparallelable rudeness, to force a cup upon any Man, beyond that measure he judgeth sufficient for his Health, and present Necessity: amongst them you have your freedom, all constraint in a civil Converse being judged intolerable, every Man behaves himself in this case as he thinks fittest, he is not reflected on, whether he taketh less or more: and being left to his own discretion, if he exceed, he can blame none, but himself. I wish the English, who are so far above the French, in other things, would but equal them in this one, I mean in their moderation and behaviour, towards Strangers and Friends: who, sometimes through a duty of good Neighbourhood, and Civility, must repair to their Houses. The same rudeness is but too ordinary in Scotland, amongst the Gentry, though otherwise exactly civil, and well bred. If you pay there a visit to a Gentleman, or Nobleman, in his own House, he will have in readiness, or at a call, if he thinks not himself able to do your turn, two or three stout Drinkers, pitched upon designedly, to hold to your head: This Commission they will perform with all diligence by a general Conspiracy, to your utter ruin, you are without delay assaulted on all sides. First, with the strongest Ale, then with Brandy, at last with Wine, till at length overcome, you are forced to retreat, and leave them victorious on the wet Fields, where they will triumph a while, till one after another, they be either led or carried off, to vent the fumes of these heady Liquors. Now, if there be any thing in this procedure looking like humanity, we must extinguish in us, the unbred light of reason, and confess against all common sense, the greatest Civility is only to be met with in the practice of the most brutish and extravagant Debauchery. SECT. IX. To speak too high is against the Maxims of a civil Converse. THe reason of this is obvious, because by crying aloud, or speaking with an elevated Tone, we discover our ambition to be considered, and hearkened to, according to that of the Poet, Vult digito monstrari & dicier hic est. Now Pride, as I made appear, elsewhere is the source of all our misdemeanours, and most of all destructive to Civility; such a rudeness as this we are now speaking of, is more insufferable in Churches, and those places, where we should speak either little or none at all: as likewise in presence of Princes, and our other Superiors, we ought rather to reverence by a respectuous silence, than disquiet by our boisterous clamours. The deformity of this sort of immodesty, is represented to Life, by the ruder sort of people, gathered together in an Alehouse, or any other Assembly: there you shall hear them speaking all together, and with such a confusion, that you shall hear none of them distinctly. They call aloud one another by their Names or nicknames, in a rustic and homely manner, and make commonly such a noise, that those who pass by, stand to listen if they quarrel not: as such people were ever, and are still Reputed most rude, we must with a watchful circumspection over our own behaviour, eat this barbarous way of Conversing; to which we may reduce all noise whatsomever in presence of our Friends, whether it be with our hands, feet, or otherwise: As also, a certain immodest sort of laughter, whereby we either discover our own inconsiderateness, or that we are regardless of the company. The Precept of the ancient Philosopher must be followed in this case, Risus nec sit multus, nec ob multa nec effusus. To laugh too much is the Character of a childish and foolish Humour, to laugh on every slight Occurrency, betrayeth us to be light and silly: but to laugh as Women do sometimes, with our hands on both sides, and with a lascivious agitation of our whole Body, is the height of rudeness and immodesty; remember then, and practise that Golden Sentence, Risus non sit multus, nec ob multa nec ess●sus. SECT. X. That frequent Oaths are inconsistent with Civility. I Can conceive nothing more rude, than this barbarous or rather Heathenish custom so general in this Age, of taking the Name of God in vain, or calling him as a Witness to every insignificant and impertinent proposition, we rashly advance. I have observed three great abuses in this matter, point blank contrary not only to Godliness, but also to good manners: some with great precipitancy, attest every Truth they say, by solemn Oaths, as if they could not otherwise gain trust. Others again, and these are worse than the first, swear with all imaginaginable confidence, what to their certain Science and Conscience is most false, which is a Crime amounting to such a high measure of malice, that in Charity, I shall suppose no rational Man to be ever guilty of it. There is a third sort that fills, or rather fouls the Ears of those that hear them, with a perpetual cursed Nonsense of God Damning, Sinking, Confounding, or such like Unchristian and Nonsensical expressions. That such Immortal practices are the mere products of rudeness or uncivility; 'tis so evident, that I need not be at the pains to prove it, since every one is taught this Truth by the light of Nature, as uncapable to deceive us, as the Author of Nature himself: for amongst whom, I pray ye, are Oaths most usual? amongst those only we look upon as the very scum of the World? and if I may so say, the very excrementitious part of Mankind? If then others considerable, either for their Birth, Riches, or Learning, be subject sometimes to this disorder, as I confess, but too many of them are; they are deservedly undervalved by the understanding sort, and all such as are naturally averse from rudeness. After a serious enquiry into the causes of this disorder, I can imagine, none that looks like a rational inducement to such an abominable custom. For, 1. I am sure there is less pleasure in it than in any other Sin whatsoever. 2. No Man in his Wits, can pretend to be more trusted, the more he swears, since 'tis an undoubted of Truth, that the greatest Swearers are commonly the greatest Liars. 3. The Repute of Wit, can methinks allure no Man, to put on such an ill and vile habit: is not Stupidity itself as capable thereof, as the sharpest Wit of the World? 4. A show perhaps of courage and resolution, is the end some propose to themselves by these Imprecations, and threatening Oaths: But how far they fall short of their aim, judge by this, that Men commonly make small account of these great Boasters, and think them destitute of true courage, yea, and great Cowards. SECT. XI. When Raillery is consistent, and when inconsistent with Civility. 'TIs always the greatest rudeness imaginable, to play upon sacred things, as Church Ceremonies, our dreadful Mysteries, and Divine Scriptures: this is the true Character of a Man, that neither loves God, nor Godliness, neither is Raillery decent or lawful, if it reflect upon the natural defects of our Neighbours, or to be suffered in presence of Princes, unless by their great intimacy with us, they make us an overture of a not ordinary familiarity. 'Tis as yet more insufferable, when we converse with Ladies, especially in matters relating to that Virtue they should look upon as the chief, if not the only Ornament of their Sex: yet, this is a common rudeness, and covers sometimes smister designs, under the Names of Complacency, and Gallantry: in which familiar way of Conversing, some go such a length, as to pass beyond all the limits of modesty, by their rough and flat expressions of these undecencies, you hear but too often, and modesty causeth me to conceal. If Raillery than must be made use of, 'tis with those that are either our equals, or have made us such by their privacy, or intimate friendship; yet, lest we fail, we are to reflect seriously upon three things: we are concerned in the first, in the second, the persons we speak with, and the third, regards the fittest season for this innocent Mirth. We must first consider if Nature has allowed us these qualities, without which, we cannot pretend to a good success in this way of Conversing; which may, methinks, be reduced to these three; A faculty easily reflexive upon every contingency, a quick imagination, and a sharpness of wit not ordinary. If Nature has used us so kindly, as to have imparted to us these her favours in any considerable measure, we would disoblige her to hid our Talon, or deprive our Friends of that innocent joy, we are capable to procure 'em: but if we find no such dispositions in us, or no ray of that extemporary subtlety, necessary for a sudden attack, surprise, repartee; let us abstain from Raillery, lest to our shame and confusion, it return by reflex upon ourselves. The second thing we are to take notice of, is, the person or persons we are in converse with: if we judge them not sharp enough to conceive at the first, a point d'lesprit, a senseful and witty word, we must deal plainly and seriously with such men, waving all in promptus and subtleties, they could not understand without a commentary. The third thing to be considered is, the season fittest for Raillery, we must make choice of those hours our Friends are freest from cares, and best disposed to mirth: for otherwise you would be thought extremely rude, to say no more, if in lieu of a Compliment of condoleance to your Friend, upon the Death of his Wife, or his Child, you would undertake to dissipate his just melancholy by an unseasonable Raillery. SECT. XII. That excessive Flattery is a great rudeness. THere are two dangerous extremes, to either of which we incline through vanity, rather than judgement; The first is Flattery, the other is Criticism, or a censorious humour, condemning indifferently every thing, that we may appear witty, by undervaluing that which is above the reach of our limited Capacity. These two extremes we must by all means avoid, and search a middle, which I take to be a rational complacency; I say designedly rational, for if it want this Character, it will cause us to put on a resolution to be complaisant at any rate in all Occurrencies, with all perons, to what is bad, as well as to what is good, which could amount to nothing else but a vile, base, and fervile Flattery: whereby we lose our Credit, and are laughed at by the judicious sort, and sometimes undervalved by those we intent most to gain, by these flat, and officious Lies. Yet, because Men are enchanted with what ever contributes towards the increase of their Honour, we must withal respect pay to them upon fit occasions the Homage of praise, but only upon the account of their real merits, as their natural, and acquired Talents, their great actions in Peace and War, at home and abroad, their useful Writings and Enterprises, for the common good, etc. Such deserved praises are not to be blamed, as making up a part of the civil Man, but these only we are pressed to by an unreasonable desire, to please at any rate those we are conversant with, of which end nevertheless, we fall commonly short; for, though our Friends seem to countenance our discourse with a smile or two, perhaps they rank us in their Hearts amongst the simple, airy, and light ballast sort of Men. Women above all others, are subject to be imposed upon by Flattery, whether it be that they have a great conceit of their natural Endowments in what measure soever they have received them from God, or whether it comes from an innocent pleasure they take, to hear their young airy Gallants display a World of Nonsense in polite terms, or whether some of them are so simple, as to trust the exaggerations of a passionate Lover: who, because of this persuasion, that he either is believed or pleaseth, thinks he has said little to the commendation of his Mistress, unless he put the Lilies, Sun, Moon, and Stars, out of countenance in her presence. Such Affections, and specious Nonsense, ought never to be made use of by such as pretend to be a part of the civil World, nor listened to by modest, and virtuous Ladies. Yet, because they delight exceedingly in hearing their own praises, we may withal moderation, and proportionably to their merits, rather than quality, perform without great expense, this part of our duty towards that weaker Sex: I have as yet one thing to say worth your reflection, That Flattery, provided it be not excessive, is more sufferable, and sometimes to be allowed of in Servants towards their Masters, and in Children towards their Parents: because the Kindness of a Master, is ordinarily gained, and the tender Affection of a a Father or Mother, increased by these Testimonies of Love from their Servants and Children. Before I conclude this Section, I shall say one word of Criticism the other extreme. Those that are of a too Critical humour, are not reckoned up with the Civil sort, because they usurp an insufferable Empire, and an absolute Authority, over the whole World, their superiors as well as their equals; they approve of nothing, and of none but themselves, they are always ready to make comments, and malignant reflections on what ever is said, and will have nothing to pass as conformable to common Sense and Reason, what they judge not so. If they have any superficial tincture of Litterature, I pity the best of Authors, they shall censure and sentence them, though perhaps they are no more acquainted with them, than with those they had never seen; If any thing that gets a Name appear in Print, they shall strike at it through envy in all occasions, and pretend, because they can say what an Old Wife may say too, 'tis no great matter, to have as great capacity, and insight in the subject, as the Author himself. SECT. XIII. How we may shun the two forementioned extremes, Flattery and Criticism. FLattery we shall easily shun, by observing the following Precepts. 1. To say nothing to any Man's advantage but what is true. 2. To abstain from all affected exaggerations. 3. To pay the Homage of our praises in convenient time and place. Some have so weak a discerning faculty, that they never take notice by what bias men's Hearts are sooner conquered: they commonly fancy the Art of pleasing consists in flat and officious lies, not reflecting that judicious Men are sometimes no less offended by false and undeserved praises, than by contumelies and calumniatory Imputations, and certainly with all reason: For, since none but Fools delight in flat untruths spoken to their advantage, how can they take it patiently to be thought of this number, though called infinite in Scripture? Such must be your Opinion of a Man you extol highly to his face for great things he never dreamed on: by this Childish procedure, you either betray your own folly, or his, if you believe him in his Wits: for than you may expect to be punished rather than rewarded, his folly, by causing the Bystanders to suspect he takes pleasure in such Notorious Lies: which would be a mortal blow to his Repute. You must avoid with no less care, these two ordinary and childish exaggerations of the Truth, which in reality amount to nothing else but to as many magnificent Untruths: cannot ye praise for instance, a Lady, upon the account of her Beauty, unless ye call her a Deity; A Philosopher, unless ye say he is an Aristotle, a Poet, an Orator, unless they be Virgil's, Ovid's, Cicero's, and beyond them too: may we not speak before a great Captain, and to his advantage; though we tell him not pompously. The past Ages furnish us with no example of Warlike Exploits considerable in compare to his, that we are fully persuaded he shall be a scope to Envy in all future times. This you see is too much, and therefore nothing at all: let your Elogium's in your Converse, be always within the circumference of common Sense and Reason, that those ye praise may be persuaded you think what you say. Some again fall into another inconveniency, no less to be shunned, than the foregoing; They affect to run out in praise of their Friends upon all occasions, without regard to several circumstances, wherein silence would be thought more seasonable. This I confess, may be Laudable and Arbitrary in their absence, but when they are present, you must observe two things; 1. Remember not to touch always upon the same string, I mean not to weary your Friend with an idle Repetition of his merits, great actions, capacity, talents, for that would create a disgust of your Converse, because of such a visible affectation. 2. To be sparing of your Compliments before his Rivals, or declared Enemies, because the former would conceive against you, a not ordinary hatred, as favouring those they love not, and the latter would defame you every where, as an interested Flatterer. As to Criticism, you need do no other thing to avoid it, but only put on a firm Resolution to resist in all occasions your censuring Genius; or if you be a Misanthrop in such a measure, that you can praise nothing that is praise worthy, you may at least Command your unruly Tongue to be silent, unless your silence, as it happens frequently, prove an evident mark of your disdain; for in this juncture you are obliged by the Law of Civility to commend, what in reason you cannot blame. Remember, your censorious humour will cause every one to shun your company, lest as ye talk at random of others, you Treat them after the same manner in their absence: If you had but two Ounces of common Sense, you would easily be wrought into some feeling of your folly in this Point; for as you censure others, so likewise shall you be censured by turn, as you disprove what others do or say, they, through a just revenge, shall observe with a piercing Eye, and discover the least of your failures. As you misinterpret their best intentions, your sinister designs shall at length be laid open, or if good, misconstrued. Forget not then that most just command, and inbred Principle: Quod tibi non vis fieri, alteri ne feceris, do as you would be done to. SECT. XIV. That we ought to conform our Discourse to the inclinations of those we Converse. IF we desire to be agreeable to those we Converse, we must study with all diligence their humours, sound their inclinations, and not regard what we but what they take most pleasure in; for otherwise we deceive often ourselves, conceiving sometimes we are acceptable to all, while we are troublesome, and please none but ourselves: and this always happens, when like talkative Women, we lull people asleep with our long and tedious Discourses, scarce fetching sensibly our breath, so fast we run, and never giving time to any of the company to edge in a word. When this happens in France, they will offer you Money in a jest, to let them have a while to speak at their turn. We are often of Opinion after a long Narrative, which a solid judgement had concluded in three or four words, that all the Bystanders admire us, and take us to be the fittest humours for Converse they could meet with; but how far we are imposed upon by our own credulous simplicity, we may judge by our proper experience, if ever we have suffered, as no doubt sometimes we have a sort of long Martyrdom, by the Tyranny of of these Domestic Enemies, who are wont to put an end to our Patience with their endless and fabulous Tales. Purposed we not then to be upon our guards another time, lest we should be redacted into the same straits again; and if we are put to the same torture in a conjuncture, we cannot Civilly fhun. By a profitable foresight, we give a Secret Commission to some of our Friends or Servants, to come to our relief, with some colourable pretence of a Friend, or an urgent Affair calling us other where. Let us here reflect that what we suffer in this case, we cause others to suffer, and more too by that perpetual movement of our unruly Tongue: consider always the condition of the persons you converse withal, and fit dextrously your Discourse to their capacity and strongest inclinations: as for instance, If you are to entertain a General of an Army, Battles, Sieges, Stratagems, Cannoning, Mining, Retrenching, Fortifying, etc. will open unto you a vast Field to run out upon, and a subject charmingly pleasant to him you speak to, whom you shall leave satisfied, and desirous to meet with you again; but remember not to play the Master in an Art, wherein (as I suppose) he is experienced, and which you have but a mere speculative knowledge of, you must then Discourse of all this as desirous to learn, not to teach. If you converse with a Man of a Noble and Ancient Family, mind him of his Ancestors, of their great Alliances, Glory, and Actions, show yourself well versed in his Lineage, and well read in the History of his Family; for this hath somewhat of bewitching, and pleaseth infinitely. I had great intimacy with a French Gentleman, who had this Talon, and no other in a Sovereign Degree: when he came to settle any time in a City, his study was to search into the particular Pedigrees of every considerable Family, and in Conversation, made use of this knowledge with such dexterity, as to show to all their concernments still by the fairest side, giving an accurate account of their respective Predecessors, of their decay, or increase; which caused him to be exceedingly loved by all, and looked upon as the only capable Judge of their debates about precedencies, and such like Punctilo's of Honour. We must not imagine all is well, when we have contented ourselves; but though we be unsatisfied, when we have procured the satisfaction of others, by discoursing of things they can easily, and delight most to discourse of: for we would be Reputed rude and impertinent, if we entertained for instance, a Lady, with Philosophical Problems, Precisions of our Reason, and Metaphysical Being's; the very Names of such things, and all barbarous School Terms, are to be shunned by the polite sort, who would take pleasure to hear a Man exorcising in a manner, those he speaks to, with these harsh words: Categonimatice, Sincategonematice, ut quo, ut quod, materialiter, formaliter, and other such like pedantic expressions. Out of all this we may gather these five things, ensuing to be indispensibly necessary in a perfect Artist of the Civil Mode. 1. A knowledge of no less extent than that of an Orator. 2. A quick and clear imaginative faculty to conceive things in an instant, and without confusion. 3. A solid judgement to discern the truth from the mere appearance thereof. 4. A mortified will, and a desire to learn rather than to teach, to speak conformably to the relish of others more than our own: which is not so to be understood, but if we are required to instruct, we must do it Cum specimine ingenii & modestiae moderately, and modestly, yet with a show of our Capacity and Insight in the matter. SECT. XV. That 'tis a Duty of Civility to converse sometimes with our Friends by Letters. THat 'tis a part of our Duty to Write sometimes to our Friends, every one may clearly understand by the constant practice of all such as are accounted in every Nation the Models of Civility; we convince them by this Officiousness of our sincere Love, which could seem interested or ceremonial when they were present. Besides, since Friends cannot be always together, their absence is supplied by Letters, without which, the strongest Friendship will at length decay; for nothing more true than what is now become Proverbial, Out of sight, out of mind. But in what manner we must acquit ourselves of this so necessary a Duty towards our Friends, 'tis not easy to declare: yet generally we may say, whether our Letters be merely Complimental, or of Affairs, they must always bear a certain proportion. First, To the matter we Writ of: Secondly, To the persons we Writ to: and Thirdly, To our own condition. This Rule comprehends all other particulars, which cannot be usefully set down, but are to be left to each Man's particular judgement; I say, nevertheless we must shun the defects above mentioned, in our ordinary converse with our Friends present, since we are apt to fall into several of the same in our Letters. First, We ought to avoid scrupulously whatever tends to our own Praise directly or indirectly, as certain expressions whereby we may appear too desirous of esteem, which defect is observable in Cicero and most of the Ancients, but in this they are not to be followed. Secondly, Let us take care our Letters contain nothing Satyrical, or tending to the stain of our Neighbours good Name. Thirdly, As in our Discourses, so in our Letters, Prolixity is never allowed of, idle Digressions, superfluous Repetitions, and such like Exorbitancies, aught to be retrenched, especially if we writ to those that have but few spare moments from their own Affairs or public Employments. Fourthly, Tho' a Letter blush not, we must be ashamed to discover therein our weakness, by wrathful Expressions, bitter Invectives, Oaths and Curses. Fifthly, A too excessive Flattery is far from the Character of an exact and judicious Letter, we may nevertheless be more prodigal of our praises when we writ, than when we speak in presence. Sixthly, As to the stile and manner of writing 'tis always irregular, unless it be Conformable; 1. To the subject we writ of; 2. To our present condition; 3. To the quality of those we writ to; If the Matter require a serious deliberation, all intermixture of Jest will be unseasonable: If the person we writ to is much above our quality, we must pay to him exactly, yet without Affectation, the Homage of a due Respect. If our present and pressant exigencies oblige us to implore the help of such as may supply our wants, let our Letter contain true and forcing motives; but to say all in one word, for particular Precepts are numberless, we must reflect upon all the Circumstances that engage us to this Duty, and from them take our measures Conformably to the Rules of Civility, and our own particular Designs. SECT. XVI. That all Jest or Earnest tending to Impiety, is an extreme rudeness. 'TIs not now as of Old, when the Wicked said only in his Heart, There is no God; some, yea and too many, dare defend it openly in public Assemblies, pretending on this account to be looked upon as Wits capable to Dispute Principles; Of all those you converse with, you shall meet with none more void, both of Christian and Civil Nurture, than this sort of Men. Such Extravagants, for I know not what other Name to give them, betray themselves to the hatred and contempt of the Godly and understanding sort, they are looked upon, and with all reason, as destitute of all true Wit and Virtue, because they neither acknowledge a Rewarder of Virtues, nor a Punisher of Crimes; they are not come this length in an Instant, Nemo deripente fit pessimus, but by Degrees, adding Sin to Sin. And lastly, Atheism to the heap, the greatest of all Sins, as being destructive to Divine Faith, the only Groundstone of our Spiritual Building; whensoever any Man forgets himself so far as to say any thing, whether it be in Jest or Earnest, in opposition to this Fundamental Article of our Faith, There is a God, all complacency laid aside, you ought to reprove him generously as rude and impious, I say as rude or uncivil in a Sovereign Degree; for reflecting on it, you shall observe, that all such as either in Jest or Earnest, deny a God, demean themselves in a manner, point blank contrary to the Maxims above mentioned, of a Civil converse. For 1. Their Discourse is nothing else but Self-praise; 2. They speak ill of all, God himself not excepted; 3. They are talkative beyond measure, tho' they say just nothing; 4. They are prone to anger, and at the first attack fall into a fury; 5. Their ordinary converse is like the roaring of a raging Sea, unquiet and tumultuous; 6. 'Tis a loss of time to oppose their unseasonable sentiments, they neither yield to common Sense nor Reason, how evident soever; 7. They'll force you if they can into their sentiments, and the same Debaucheries; 8. They are not content with ordinary Oaths, they invent new ones, and never as yet heard of, nor thought on perhaps by the Devil himself; 9 Because they cannot wholly extinguish the inbred knowledge of a Deity, they endeavour to be rid of all fear of his Justice in the other, World by ranking themselves in the order of Beasts, as to the State of their Souls after Death; they will tell you flatly, they believe no such thing as an Immortal Soul, whereby they discover their desires rather than their sentiments: because if nothing of 'em had a Being capable of feeling after Death, they would thereby shun the punishment they deserve for their Sins. If then there can be any rudeness parallelable to that of these abominable Atheists, I appeal to all Men of a sound Judgement, if you will not endanger, yea, undoubtedly lose your Repute, and which is much more to be valued, your Soul; you must fly swiftly from such Monsters, tanquam a fancy celubri, as if they were Venomous Serpents and Basilicks, killing with their very sight. SECT. XVII. That 'tis an extreme rudeness to speak to the disadvantage of any Nation, in presence of the Natives. I Can imagine no rudeness more insufferable, than to fall foul upon any Nation, whether it be in Jest or Earnest, in presence of the very Natives, because, besides that every Man is extremely concerned in the Honour of his own Country, nescio qua natale solem dulcedine cunctos allicit, Men are apt to look upon such reproaches as returning by reflex upon themselves; we are then indispensibly obliged by all the Laws of Civility, to give Foreigners all imaginable encouragements to love us, and trust to us, not only by saying nothing derogatory to the Honour of their Nation, which we must always be ware of, but affecting rather to praise it upon the account of these advantages that every Country pretends to, above another. This is the Practice of all noble Spirits and true Gentlemen, they do in this case as they would be done to, and love Wit and Virtue wherever they see it; who behave themselves otherwise, are either ill bred at home, or have never been abroad. 'Tis an Infallible mark of a base and barbarous Education, to undervalue a Man only upon the account he is a Stranger, since this Character, if we have not put off all sentiments of humanity, should rather induce us to love him, and prompt us to serve him upon all occasions; let us reflect how we would be dealt with, if we were in Foreign Nations, and we shall instantly know what we have to do in this case; would we not be touched to the very quick, if any Man were so incivil, as to reproach to us the defects true or false, of our Native Soil? 'tis odd, but we would retaliate in the Instant. You mind than to quarrel, and not to behave yourself civilly, when ye reproach to Strangers the defaults of their Country they are not guilty of: but because 'tis ordinary to speak to the disadvantage of our Neighbours, not that we believe what we say, but through a particular prejudice one Nation has always had against another, if we find any such Disposition, or Aversion in us, we must do what lies in our power to stifle it before Strangers, lest we give them just reason to complain of our incivility, and ascribe to the whole Nation our particular imperfections. To this we may add, 'tis a great rudeness, after we have Travelled through Foreign Kingdoms, to make up our Memoirs only with fancied Indecorums, ridiculing for diversion of the company, all their particular Customs; By such Satirical Reflections we may give some proof of our Wit, but at the same time we discover our little Judgement, and much of a Childish Passion. Some Nations I confess are more complete than others; and more considerable for their Antiquity, Riches, Warlike Exploits, Sharpness, Policy, and Polity, yet if we weigh all things on each side impartialy, we shall not have so great reason as we fancy, to prefer ourselves before our Neighbours, for commonly if we surpass them in one thing, we do not in all, but are often surpassed by them in others again, no less, if not more considerable. This Reflection should force us to use all kindly, especial Strangers, on whose love and esteem our Repute, and that of our Nation depends. ARTICLE. III. SECTION. I. Of the familiar Conversation. IT seems there is no Art to be made use of in a familiar Conversation, that here we are to observe no Precepts, but only to behave ourselves with all freedom, and do whatever Nature inclineth us most too; nevertheless if we call to mind what I have said elsewhere, that we must still endeavour to gain the love and esteem of those we converse with, we shall easily be persuaded that in this homely way of conversing, we must be no less cautious, yea, more exact than in any other, to observe such Precepts as have been judged necessary in all Ages to the entertaining of a real Friendship. The first is, That whatsoever love we have for our Friends, or they for us, we never trust to it so far as to betray ourselves to their Contempt, by too great familiarity; If they be our Masters and Princes, what ever Friendship they make show of to us, let us always behave ourselves, as if we could not be persuaded of their Affection upon the account of our unworthiness; yet if they will have us to leave the Ceremonial Method of a respectuous Friendship, we may then speak with more freedom our sentiments, observing first to give them always the advantage, whether it be on their side or not. 2. To concur with them in nothing, as if we pretended to be their Rivals: This Ambition, or rather Indiscretion, has been the Ruin of many Courtiers in all Ages, who presuming too much upon their Prince's Friendship, would share with him in every thing, yea, in his very Amours. The Second Rule we are to observe in a familiar Conversation, whether it be with our Equals or Superiors, is, never to speak of such things as we ought to be ashamed of before Men, and repent for in the sight of God: Such are your Bypast Debaucheries, Pleasures, and Riots. This is nevertheless a general and too ordinary defect, amongst Persons of Quality, if they be in any degree familiar; you shall hear them boasting of things I abhor to think on, and dare not name, as if they pretended to the Repute of honesty, by such infamous and effeminate Exploits. They are falsely persuaded you are in a high conceit of their Valour, when they have told you how many Victories they have got, not in the Fields of Mars, but in the Cellars of their only God Bacchus; one would think they pretend to as much Honour for drinking a Man out of his Wits, as if they had forced an Enemy out of his Hold. The Third Rule we must square our familiar converse by is, not to make our intimacy with either Man or Woman what-some-ever, an occasion of calumny or detraction, which nevertheless is but too usual when we are come from an ordinary friendship, to a certain degree of familiarity; we open then our Hearts and keep nothing close, yea, not the very Secrets of others trusted to us, which sometimes we discover to all we can meet with under a tye of a Secret; For this reason we must discover nothing to the Wife, what we would have unknown to her Husband, nor to to the Husband, what we would not have his Wife acquainted with, because (as we may say) they are two Bodies in one Flesh, so they are two Souls in one Spirit, by a certain transfusion of their Hearts. It happens then but too often, that an excessive and irregular familiarity induceth us to the discovery of things that should be kept most Secret; from whence it is that we spare none in our familiar converse, yea, not those whom dissemblingly we admire whilst we are in their presence. The Fourth Rule we ought to observe exactly, is, to keep inviolably the Secret our Friend hath trusted us with, unless it be inconsistent with the safety of either our Prince, or Country we live in, for in this case no tye of friendship can oblige us to their prejudice; but in all other Conjunctures we are Traitors, if we betray our Friends, or their Secrets; And this is not only to be understood of these things they desire us earnestly to keep to ourselves, but of several others they commend not to our Secrecy, which common Sense teacheth us never to discover. If you converse familiarly with a Woman, keep close from her what you would not have known to the whole World: for though some of them may, and do keep a Secret, yet few of them are capable to conceal their thoughts a considerable time and in all occasions, because they speak commonly, especially the more fiery sort, before they think, or at least in the very instant; so they either utter their mind without reflection, or reflect only on what they say in the very moment of their utterance, when but too late they would fain hold in what is now by half a word sufficiently understood. The Fifth Rule is, not to presume so much on our Friends good Nature, as to think we cannot anger him whatever we do, and so play upon his Natural defects, or disprove whatever he says or does. If we will suffer nothing in others our importunity will be troublesome to them, and may perhaps occasion a wide breach of friendship; let us not then imagine that familiarity in what degree soever it be, gives us a full permission to use and abuse our Friend at pleasure. SECT. II. Of the Learned Conversation. THe Learned Converse is either designed, as when Scholars meet together to dispute some Scholastic Point, or 'tis accidental when occasionally we join in company with such as are well grounded in all sort of Literature: In both these Occurrences, we must behave ourselves, cum specimine ingenii & modestiae, in such a manner as may discover in some measure our Capacity, but withal endeavouring to gain the Hearts of those we speak to, by modesty and moderation in our advantage. If we are to meet designedly in any Assembly, for the discussion of some Doctrinal Point, 'tis expedient we come not unprepared, because if our thoughts be confused, our utterance shall neither be easy nor exact, which could prove some disadvantage to us. We must take a special care all the while of our debate to keep ourselves in a middle temper, because if we be too cold, our imagination shall not furnish us quickly enough with such expressions as may be fittest in the present juncture, and if we are in the other extreme, we shall utter our sentiments confusedly, and say many things superfluous; yea, it happens commonly when we are distempered by the immoderate heat of our imagination, that we either understand not, or mistake what is said in opposition to what we advance, and so lose a considerable advantage over our Adversary by not reflecting where the weak of his discourse lies; we think only on't when the shaken is past, that we could have easily returned this or that answer, and pressed our Antagonist with such and such Arguments: Those fiery Disputants cause the Bystanders to believe they either mistrust their Cause or their Wit; as if what they cannot gain by reason, they pretended to by a clamorous passion. Here we are to observe, if the persons we dispute against be of greater renown in the World, for their Learning, than we are; we wrong ourselves, if through mere envy, we oppose their Sentiments: We must then be sure we are in the right, before we undertake to contradict such men, and then do it rather as proposing our doubts, than in an insulting manner. Yea, my advice to you in this case is, If you judge they will be more credited than you, because of their great Authority and Esteem, to yield seemingly to their Opinion, though you be sure they are mistaken in what they assert: For 'tis prudence in such conjunctures, to proportion our behaviour to that repute we have got hitherto in the World, without respect to these, not ordinary Gifts God has, perhaps, favoured us with. There is as yet, a delicate point my Subject engageth me to speak of, if we must debate about matters of Religion, and in what manner. I say, then generally such disputes are to be shunned, because they end always foul and in quarrels, unless those we speak to be willing to hear the truth from us, and dispute rather for Esclaircisment than Victory: but no man is to be admitted to dispute Christian Truths, as the Existency of God, his Incarnation, Passion, Resurrection, etc. because this would be an occasion of scandal to the Hearers, and a weakening of their Faith: On this account the Romanist Divines are worthy of blame, who put all our Mysteries to a hard Trial at the Bench, I may so say, of Humane Reason: One Instance will convince you, I wrong them not, they dispute in their Schools, if there can be any true demonstration of God's Existency every one pretends to find it out: But I desire you to observe, that what ever one says on this Point is refuted by another: What is then the conclusion of their Debates? a most execrable Blasphemy, that Atheism is a probable Doctrine: This Inference I heard raised in a familiar Conference against four learned Jesuits, who amazed at the first hearing of it, stood stock-still and answered but little to the purpose, because the Opponent argued thus, ad Hominem: You grant there is no demonstration of God's Existency which is not probably refuted by some of your Doctors: If then you will speak consequentially to yourselves you must of necessity confess you have no certainty of his Being, but only a mere probable Opinion, which by your Principles you are not obliged to hold, since you teach either part of Probables may be securely embraced. You see what Extremes Men may sometimes thrust themselves into through a too disputative humour: Let us take this general Rule when we are engaged to speak of Matters relating to Religion, to argue always in confirmation of Christian Truths; In order to resolve these groundless doubts, our weak reason may suggest to us in opposition to them. As for the manner of disputing in Matters concerning Religion, we must take our measures by the quality of our Opponents, and force them always to point out to us the Ground they build on: For instance, press a Romanist to tell you in what part of Scripture the General Councils are declared infallible Judges of Controversies; where they read that the particular Church of Rome is the Universal Church; that 'tis lawful to worship the Cross, cultu latrie, with that Sovereign Cult due to God only; that there is any other Mediator we ought to invocate besides our only Mediator Christ, etc. SECT. III. Of the Interested Conversation. I Mean by the Interested Conversation, that sort of converse wherein we treat of our own, or our Neighbours Concerns: we must here take our measures from the Nature of the business we undertake, and change the means we had resolved at first upon for a good success according to the variance of emergencies, that may render them unfit for the end we intended them for: I need not instruct here Statesmen or Ambassadors how to behave themselves in their respective Functions, they are commonly Men of eminent parts, and understand perfectly how to manage their Masters concern; their common practice is in Conferences relating to their Prince's Interest, to follow scrupulously their instructions, supplying nevertheless some things in Occurrencies by their own Prudence, to be approved, or disapproved of by the Prince as he shall think fit. The interested converse I speak of here, is that which is most ordinary between private persons, wherein we must aim not so much at a vain Repute of Wit, but rather of Christian Wisdom, as showing ourselves ready to give every one his due: let us then be real in our intentions, and sincere in our expressions, shunning all intermixture of Amphibologies, or Ambiguous Speech, for we are out of fancy for naked Truth, if once we fall in conceit with Equivocations, and mental Reservations, which if you are Guilty of, you deserve to be banished all Civil converse, as designing to deceive those you deal with. This Illusory practice of Equivocating is so customary to some Romanists, that you can neither tie them by Promise, nor by Oath; for if they Promise or Swear, 'tis with a mental Precision, taking the thing in this sense, not in that you intended, in this respect, not in that other, which would put upon them an Obligation of performance: than which the Devil himself could invent nothing more destructive to all the good we may reap by humane Society. If this subtle way of Cheating were allowed of, vere homo homini esset Lupus, one Man would be worse than a Wolf to another, and our condition would be safer if we lived like Wild Beasts separated one from another, than 'tis now, if by living together we may fall a Prey to those who assure us most of their kindness and friendship. Come not then to treat with your Friend as a Serpent caressing with the Tail, and killing with a double Tongue: which if once he discover, as 'tis easy, you make an irrecoverable loss of his friendship, and your own interest. Whatever I have said hitherto is to be practised, if you have undertaken to treat with others for your Friends Concerns, look upon his Affairs as your own, and go about them with a careful diligence, but still without any design of imposing upon those you deal withal: If you are to ask any favour for him or yourself, from a person that may help your present exigencies, remember of two things. 1. To choose a fit season to make your Address, for Men are not apt to be spoken to at all hours, and are now in humour to grant what in another time they will refuse; 'tis then a part of your Prudence to lay hold on the fittest occasion, captare molles aditus & mollia fandi tempora, because 'tis bald, and if you let it slip, you shall not easily catch it again. 2. Think well before you make your Application, for instance, to a Prince on the true motives, which may more movingly persuade him, to propose them distinctly, and in few words, and then withdraw without importuning him any more; Tho' sometimes importunity may be made use of when all other means fail us, because Men will often do what they are not inclined to, to be rid of our troublesome assiduities. As to the seasonable time of speaking, either in our own or our Friend's behalf, 'tis as yet advisable, and grounded both on reason and experience, that the Morning is not so fit a time as the Afternoon, because the good temper of our Souls depending wholly on that of our Bodies, we are not so well disposed before meat, as after, as the Proverb insinuates, when I am hungry I am angry, but our Spirit being revived by a substantial and plentiful food, we are more cheerful and readier to give audience, and favours to such as make use of this good Interval, to require them of us. SECT. iv The Character of the Sanguine Humour. THose we call Sanguine in whom the Blood domineers, they are the fittest of all Men for humane Society; so as the Body is Dead without Blood, una eademque via fugiunt sanguisque animusque; we may likewise say our Conversation languisheth, and dies, if there be no Sanguine present to revive it: Their Gests are frequent, but decent, and becoming them well; their looks and their whole Countenance inspire nothing but joy. In the posture of their Bodies, whether they sit or stand, they use their own freedom, and hate extremely whatever is uneasy; they are commonly eloquent, and discourse (if they have any tincture of Learning) of every thing with great felicity; they distinguish themselves in Conversation by a certain extemporary quickness, which surpriseth the duller sort; an Innocent Raillery is their greatest delight, in which sometimes they exceed. Hence 'tis they content themselves more sometimes, than those they converse withal, who being perhaps, incapable of an answer to a witty word, repine to see themselves become a Subject of Sport to the Company; nevertheless their complacency is so exact, that they will put on in an instant a serious humour, if they think you in the least offended with their mirth, they are pleased in appearance with whatever you say, how great Nonsense soever it be. If they laugh you sometimes out of your Patience, by reason of some rudeness of yours, they are to be pardoned, because this is an effect of their movable, and lively Spirits, which they can hardly command; yet they contain sometimes themselves so far as to dissemble their resentment, when they are touched to the quick, or turn Wittily into a Jest, what you have rudely said in sad Earnest; they have a special Talon to add pleasant Circumstances to whatever they have heard; as also to invent in the instant, things that never were with such an air of probability, that they are easily believed by the simple sort, as to all the Circumstances of their Tales, and by the most knowing, as to the Substance. We must nevertheless pardon them this fault, their aim being no other but to please which they attain to sometimes better by an ingenious fiction, than a naked exposition of the Truth; they are talkative beyond measure, because they think that whatsoever they say pleaseth others as much as themselves; they are Naturally inclined to Flattery, and the aptest people of the World to Enchant Women; they are extremely Complimental, and upon this account most agreeable to Ladies who commonly delight to hear their own praises, true or false; they never continue any considerable time upon the same Subject, but pass on a sudden from one thing to another, because they know somewhat of every thing, and few things wholly; they cause others often to suffer what they are most impatient of themselves, I mean their tedious and endless Tales; but because of their easy humour, they may be interrupted without offence, but not without incivility; they speak often to their own praise, yet with such modest Apologies, and delicacy of expression, that ye would not judge them much concerned in what they say; they are not suspicious, but ready to think and speak good of every one; they love excessively their Pleasures, and discourse willingly of their past Debaucheries and new Projects, either of lawful or unlawful diversions; upon the account of their greater ease, they choose often rather to yield than to dispute, they become easily familiar, and make a full acquaintance at the very first meeting, discovering to a Stranger as to a concerned Friend, their Designs and Affairs; Trust them with few Secrets of moment, the Mobility of their Spirits, and the Volubility of their Tongues, make them incapable of a Secret, unless they resist powerfully; for sapiens dominabitur astris, that violent Inclination of theirs, to bring forth instantly whatsoever they have conceived. SECT. V The Character of the Choleric. THe Choleric are not averse from Humane Society, but their unruly and domineering humour is almost insufferable, they seem always to be unsatisfied with whatever you either say or do to humour them. If you contradict their sentiments they will rise in a fury, and whensoever you assert any thing they think not so, because they like it not, they shall tell you very civilly, you are grossly mistaken; or more smoothly thus, Devil a word you say, is true: If such persons be the Governors of Families, their Houses resemble Hell, where there is no order, but a perpetual confusion. You shall meet with none that have a greater conceit of themselves, and speak more in conversing to their own advantage, they detract generally of all Mankind; if they cannot blame your action, they will censure your intention, they shall force upon you if they can their sentiments, and if by reason they Master you not, they will affright you into their side, by Contumelies and flat Injuries; Yet they have some good moments, and will make a show of an extraordinary complaisance to all they converse with; but trust not too much to this Calm, it is like that of the Sea, it will be changed on a sudden into a Stormy Passion; they think they speak not like Men, unless they Swear and Curse like Devils; and this they will do in cold blood, their custom being now changed into Nature; they shall discourse so long as you seem to Credit them of their great Actions, their Noble Pedigree, their Children, and of whatever may contribute towards the increase of that esteem they are easily persuaded you have for them; in debates of Learning they are commonly overcome by their own fury, which makes them incapable of reflecting on what is said against them, and their thoughts cro●●●ing forth altogether, their ●●●●rance is embarassed, and unea●●●● they are not fit for Embassies, a●● management of great Affairs, which require a certain moderation, they are not capable of; they are rude in their Converse with Ladies, they are nevertheless Complimental enough, but after a Martial manner, and far from the smoothness of the Sanguine Temper: the roughness of their humour will hinder them to comply with a Lady's sentiments, not only when they have reason on their side, in which case also Civility would require our deference to the Sex, but likewise when evidently they have it not. Of all Men they are commonly the greatest Liars, and less to be trusted too, because their passion only prompting them to speak, they are little reflexive on what they say; and either promise things they are not able to perform, or will not when a more sober temper hath taken place of their former fit. In Disputes relating to Religion be upon your Guards, lest on a sudden they draw upon you, for this way of arguing is more ordinary to them, than by reason; so they never influence the understanding to conviction, because they manage not the will by a civil way of debating; as in such conjunctures they speak much, they stagger often from the Centre to the Circumference, from Truth to Falsehood, giving a great advantage by their rudeness, and precipitation, to a moderate and modest Adversary. Nevertheless when they are once sensible by experience of their own weakness, they will counterfeit a Phlegmatic temper by an affected moderation, which as being forced, they put off again at the least occasion. SECT. VI The Character of the Melancholy Humour. WE esteem those of a Melancholy Temper judicious and witty, tho' not so ready, nor so sharp as the Sanguine. They speak little, but think much and twice, before they speak once: their chief study is to pronounce Sentences, and comprehend great Sense in few words: by their very jests, slighting smiles, fierce looks, they discover their Secret Pride: they generally speak ill of all, themselves only excepted, and if Nature has bestowed upon them any not ordinary Talon, their own Self-conceit as a Magnifying Glass, will raise it to a huge bulk: they think it a Point of Honour not to yield to any Man's sentiments: they stand to their own fancies how groundless soever, with an Obstinacy equal to that of Heresy: they misinterpret often what is said without design, as being beyond expression suspicious to their own perpetual disturbance: they answer sometimes no otherwise than by a disdainful smile, whether it be that they undervalue what others say, or think it securer for their Repute to be silent: but this affected silence is a too visible mark of a groundless Pride: they are sometimes troublesome, because of their heavy and sleepy humour, yet they take often such fits of Mirth, that you would think they have changed their Nature: they are not very Complimental, yet Civil enough: they dissemble Naturally their sentiments, and are capable of a Secret: they are complaisant when they judge their complacency is subservient to their Interest: otherwise expect scarce Justice at their hands far, less a favour, tho' they could do it at the easiest Rate: they speak harshly to their Servants, to their Equals disdainfully, with an uneasy and forced respect to their Superiors: they pretend to have a foresight of what is to come, and to judge better of every thing than their Neighbours: they desire to be hearkened to when they discourse, as Oracles, and when they are silent, they would have you to think they are meditating on great things: their utterance is slow and uneasy, till their imagination be exalted to that degree of heat, without which we never express our thoughts fluently: they speak sometimes out of purpose, either because they reflect not on what is said, or because they intent to change the Subject, as not agreeable to their present Temper: their Discourse is commonly senceful enough, but their affected silence is often nothing else but a prudent coverture of their weakness. SECT. VII. The Character of the Phlegmatic Humour. THe phlegmatics are those the French call properly, Des Apathicks, without passion, or insensible not through knowledge or design, but because of their dull Spirits: they are extremely unconcerned in Conversation, and speak not otherwise than Machine's, by your moving first all sort of Wheels: I mean by using all imaginable Industry to engage them once to make the Ceremony of opening their Mouths, which they do at length with such an Indetermination, that you must determine them again before their lips fall together: they seem to spell in speaking, so slowly they go on; so I may say, they both draw and quarter their words. When you have heard the first word, you may look about to your Neighbours, or recollect yourself a while, the Gentleman must cough, and spit three or four times, he utters the second: and then infallibly to gain time, he shall solicit your Attention, with an often repeated, Understand ye Sir, Ye take me Sir: to make use of what we call Point d'esprit, before such men, is a loss of time, they shall stand amazed at what you mean, without either applause or answer: they are not capable of an extemporary dispute, because their imagination is ever cold, and furnisheth them not with a reply when they are attacked: Nature has not been entirely a Stepmother to 'em, if after a long Meditation, they are capable to speak, or write good Sense: whatever they advance they stand to through wilfulness, not throw judgement: if you ask them a reason for what they do, they have so much Wit as to tell you 'tis their will, and nothing else: they love not Conversation, not that they pass their time when alone, in Meditation, as the thinking sort of Men do, but merely because they are so more at their ease, as thinking on just nothing: because they delight so much in the solitude, they are to the Philosopher, either Gods, or which I am more apt to believe, downright Beasts: yet they appear Men again, and speak pertinently for their own Concerns, and can inform you of Twenty Arts how to gain and spare a Penny: for as they are ordinarily in a furious conceit of that shining Earth we call Gold and Silver, so they love to speak of it: you need neither show your anger against this sort of people, nor use them at the Complimental Mode, you shall find them as unconcerned with your Wrath, as insensible to your Civility: yet they are rather not civil, than positively incivil: they spend a considerable time and many words, to say but little, they speak to Ladies rather with little respect, than a true disrespect: they kill their Inferiors and Equals, with old and endless Stories, but say nothing in presence of their Superiors, unless a mere yes Sir, or no Madam, their longest Answers to every Question: they endeavour sometimes to rouse up their Spirits with a higher tone, rather than a true anger, which falls immediately with the fall of their voice: if they have a true love for their Children, 'tis like that of irrational Creatures, they never tell them of it, though they make them sensible enough of the reality of their Affections, by procuring them all Necessaries. SECT. VIII. The Character of the English, as to their way of conversing. Though the English have been accounted from all times, one of the most polite Nations of Europe, yet I am fully persuaded they have so far improved themselves in the Art of all civil Converse, since His Majesty's Happy restoration, that if we compare them now, to what formerly they were, we shall have reason to wonder how so a great change to the better could happen in so short a time: their former stiff form of conversing, is now changed into a free, brisk, and lively air, which is the very Life of Conversation; And as in their Method of Divine Worship, they have shunned the extremes, neither rejecting all Ceremonies, as some of their Neighbours do, nor admitting too many, as those of the Romish persuasion: so likewise in their way of conversing, they hold a just middle between an excessive Gayetes, and too affected Gravity: their discourse because of this good temper, is commonly to the purpose, and senseful enough: they are not so familiar at first with Strangers, as the Scotch or the French; yet you shall find no where so real, and more generous Friends, if once you are possessed of their Friendship: they stand to their sentiments if opposed, yet without Obstinacy, choosing rather to yield to reason, than overcome by Authority: they keep great measures with their very Friends, and are scarce ever guilty of too great familiarity: they discover their Secrets to few, hardly to those of their greatest intimacy: they commend highly, and I confess deservedly too, their own Nation, but they undervalue sometimes without reason, some Neighbouring Nations, yet this is the defect but of a little number, and of those particularly who have never conversed Strangers, nor stirred from home: they express themselves upon any Subject with a greater show of Natural Eloquence, than any other Nation of Europe, though commonly they are reputed better Writers, than Orators, perhaps because of the want of that great Action in their Pulpits, which we observe in the Preachers of all other Nations: they can digest a Raillery from a Friend, but hardly if it come from a Stranger: as they are hardy and resolute in all their undertake, so they are in their words, discovering their Contempt of their Adversary, rather than fear: they are exactly Complaisant to the weaker Sex, and with greater deference in every particular, than any other Nation of the World: On this account I suppose 'tis become Proverbial, That England is the Hell of Horses, and the Paradise of Women, which is most true, if Liberty and Freedom to do what they list, be the true Prerogatives of Paradise: Strangers must not judge of this Nation by some of the common sort, whose rudeness they complain of at their first arrival: the Commons in England generally as well as the Gentlemen, are both Civil, Judicious, and Witty, beyond those of other Nations; the English speak commonly to their Superiors of what degree so ever, or Character, with a respectuous freedom, to few familiarly, to their Equals and Friends too, unconcernedly readier to serve them when need requires, than to feed their hopes with large promises; yet they are of late become as Complimental, as any other Neighbouring Nation, which whether it be a Vice or a Virtue, I shall not determine. Their converse with those they are unacquainted with, is somewhat cold and serious, mistrusting Prudently whom they know not: they will discourse a Point of Natural Philosophy, with such Eloquence and Sharpness, with such an air of probability, that you cannot oppose their sentiments upon the account of any visible untruth they advance: they have improved, and improve daily themselves in this noble Science to that degree of perfection, no other Nation had reached to in the foregoing Ages. The Right Honourable Rob. boil, is Renowned all Europe over, upon the account of his Experimental Philosophy, he is a Gentleman of extraordinary parts, and deserves well the Repute, he has got now every where, both abroad and at home, of an Eminent Philosopher. I shall say nothing here of the Scotch, because their way of converse is not much different from that of the French, their humours meeting with somewhat of Sympathy; I add only their Nobility and Gentry may compare, to say no more, with any Nation of Europe, as to Courage, Wit, Sharpness, and Civility. SECT. IX. The Character of the French, as to their way of Conversing. THe French are Naturally Civil, and Complaisant indifferently to all: they are talkative beyond measure in Conversation, and sometimes after a long discourse they have said but little, their easy utterance, and the quickness of their, imagination engaging them often in Tautologies, so much hated by the English, that they scarce ever make use of Synonima's, or idle Repetitions, they love Raillery, and understand it better than any other Nation of Europe, their Mirth is innocent, and their Jests without offence: they Honour Men of great parts whatever Nation they be of: they are extremely kind to Strangers, and on this account will favour them in all occasions, they hate no Neighbouring Nation; but whom they fear most, as the English they most esteem: they were so far from being jealous of the Honour the English obtained by these incomparable Actions of Valour they did in their late Wars against the Germans, that they contributed not a little to the increase thereof, by publishing them in their Gazettes with due Eulogiums, and the most material Circumstances: If they talk too much to the commendation of their own Nation, you may easily pardon them on this account, That they speak but little to the disadvantage of other Nations, and seem to admire whatever comes from abroad; You may observe in their Speech, and all their Actions, a certain confidence so nessary to all Gentlemen, that whatever may be their other Endowments, without this they cannot be accounted well-bred: they speak to their Equals almost with the same respect they do to their Superiors: 'tis observable the persons of quality every where, but in France particularly, are far beyond the rest in Civility: the French in their familiar converse, will sometimes talk at random against their own Prince, and his Government, but if a Stranger whispers any thing to his disadvantage, they shall oppose him vigorously, as loving still (how rudely soever dealt withal) their Prince, and glorying in his greatness. I know no People in Europe sharper in their Repartees than the French, yet they play often upon words, and delight in Childish Allusions. Their Language is polite enough, but not so copious as the English; they will spare no pains to teach a Stranger their pronounciation, but you must give them leave to sport and laugh, if you pronounce amiss: this is the only reward they pretend to for the trouble they are at: they are extremely Complimental, not so much by Art as by Nature, and those amongst them that have no tincture of Learning, know yet so much of Humanity, as to pay you the Homage of their hearty thanks for a good turn done in good and senceful Terms. As extraordinary Caresses cover either a Cheat, or a design to Cheat, trust not too much to their Compliments, they turn still by some reflex or another to their own interest: the French Ladies are commonly well-bred, and behave themselves in a familiar converse with a certain Bone-Grace, holding more of Nature than Art, their expressions are graceful, neat, and smooth, their Countenance enlightened with the Beams of joy and contentedness, their Air, their Gests, and the whole posture of their Body, natural and easy, their Cercles' are the best Schools of the French Politess: the French generally discourse fluently upon any Subject whatsoever, with an accuracy sufficient in a familiar converse, as knowing a little of every thing, and few things to the bottom, or entirely: they affect in this Age, a certain cold temper, and moderation in all their words, and Actions, and think they give no small praise to a Man when they have said, C'est un home qui a beaucoup de sang froid, He is a Man that has much cold Blood: you have all freedom to oppose their sentiments in Conversation, but because they take it for no less dishonour to be overpowered by Reason than by the Sword, you may expect a vigorous resistance, they will oppose Reason, to Reason, and if they find themselves worsted, they know how to ridicule the Matter and turn it into a Jest, that so they may divert the Bystanders from reflecting on their weakness, and your advantage. FINIS.