(62.) Never more expect candour, frankness, justice, good offices, services, kindness, generosity, steadiness from a man who for some time has spent all his days at court, and secretly wishes to better his fortunes. Do you know him by his face or conversation? He no longer calls things by their proper names; for him there exist no longer any knaves, rogues, fools, or impertinent people; if by chance he should say of any man what he thinks of him, that very man might come to know it, and prevent him from getting on.432 Though he thinks ill of everybody, he speaks ill of none, for he only wishes success to himself, but would make believe that he wishes it to everybody, so that all may assist him, or at least that nobody may oppose him. Not satisfied with being insincere himself, he cannot endure that any one should be otherwise; truth offends his ear; he is indifferent, and does not care what remarks are made about the court and courtiers, but because he knows what they mean, he fancies himself an accomplice, and answerable for them. A tyrant in society and a martyr to his ambition, he is mournfully circumspect in his conduct and in his language; his raillery is innocent, but cold and constrained; his laughter is forced, his demonstrations of friendship deceptive, his conversation desultory, and his absence of mind frequent: he is profuse in his praises, and, if I may say so, pours out torrents of them whenever any man in office and a favourite does or says the smallest thing; but for any other person he is as sparing with his words as if he were consumptive. He has different formulas for complimenting people on entering or leaving a room, as well when he visits as when he is visited, and none of those who are satisfied with mere appearances and forms of speech ever leaves him discontented. He aims at getting patrons as well as partisans, and is a mediator, a confidant, and a go-between; he wishes to rule; he is as anxious as a novice to do every trifling thing that has to be observed at court; he knows where a man must stand to be seen; he can embrace you, share in your joy, ask you one question after another about your health and your affairs; and while you are answering him, he loses the thread of his curiosity, interrupts you, and begins another subject; or if he happens to see some one whom it is necessary to address in a different way, he finishes his congratulations to you whilst condoling with the other person; he weeps with one eye and laughs with the other. Sometimes, in imitation of the Ministers or the favourite, he speaks in public of trivial things, such as the wind or the frost, but, on the contrary, is silent and very mysterious about some important things he does know, and still more so about some he does not know.

(63.) There is a country433 where all joy is conspicuous but false, and all grief hidden but real. Who would imagine that the anxiety to be present at entertainments, the raptures and applause at Molièreʼs or Harlequinʼs comedies,434 the banquets, the chase, the ballets, and carrousels,435 conceal so much uneasiness, so many cares and such various interests, so many fears and expectations, so many ardent passions, and such serious matters of business.

(64.) Court life is a serious, sad game, requiring application; a man must arrange his pieces and his plans, have a design, pursue it, thwart his adversaries, now and then venture something, and play capriciously; yet after all those fancies and contrivances he may be kept in check, and not seldom be checkmated; whilst often with well-handled men he may queen it and win the game; the most skilful or the most fortunate player obtains the victory.

(65.) The wheels, the springs, the movements of a watch are hidden, and only the hands can be seen gradually going round and finishing their course. This is a true image of a courtier, who goes over a great deal of ground, but often returns to the very same point whence he started.

(66.) “Two-thirds of my life are already gone; why, then, should I perplex myself so much about the remainder? The most brilliant career neither deserves the anxiety I suffer, nor the meannesses I accidentally commit, nor the humiliations and mortifications I have to bear. In thirty years those giants of power whom we can hardly perceive without raising our heads will be destroyed; I, who am so small, and those to whom I looked up with so much anxiety and from whom I expected all my greatness, will have disappeared. The best of all good things, if such there be in this world, is repose, retirement, and a place you can call your own.” N ... was of this opinion when he was in disgrace, but he forgot it in his prosperity.436

(67.) A nobleman who resides in his own province, lives free, but without patronage; if he lives at court he will be patronised, but is a slave; so one thing compensates for another.

(68.) Xantippus,437 at the uttermost end of his province, under an old roof and in a wretched bed, dreamt one night that he saw his prince, spoke to him, and felt great joy at this; when he awoke he was melancholy, told his dream, and exclaimed, “What strange fancies a man may have in his sleep!” Xantippus some time afterwards went to court, saw the prince, and spoke to him; and then his dream was more than realised, for he became a favourite.

(69.) Nobody is a greater slave than an assiduous courtier, unless it be a courtier who is more assiduous.

(70.) A slave has but one master; an ambitious man has as many masters as there are people who may be useful in bettering his position.

(71.) A thousand men scarcely known appear every day in crowds at the levée,438 to be seen by their prince, who cannot see a thousand at a time; if to-day he only sees those whom he saw yesterday and will see tomorrow, how many must be unhappy!439

(72.) Of all those persons who dangle after men of rank, and pay their respects to them, a few honour them in their hearts, a great number follow them out of ambition or interest, but the motive of the largest number is a ridiculous vanity or a silly impatience to be noticed.

(73.) There are certain families who, according to the ways of the world, and what we call decency, ought never to be reconciled to one another; however, now they are good friends, for those whom religion could not induce to lay aside their feuds, interest, without much trouble, has linked together.

(74.) People say there exists a certain country where old men are gallant, well-mannered, and polite, young men, on the contrary, unfeeling, rude, ill-mannered, and impolite; they no longer entertain a passion for the fair sex at an age when, in other countries, young men begin to entertain it; and prefer to that sex feasts, revelry, and ridiculous amours. Amongst those people a man is considered sober and moderate who is never intoxicated with anything but wine, the excessive use of which makes it appear insipid; they endeavour by brandy, and by the strongest liquors, to revive their taste, which is already gone, and want nothing to complete their excesses but to drink aquafortis. The women of that country hasten the decay of their beauty by their artifices to preserve it; they paint their cheeks, eyebrows, and shoulders, which they bare, together with their breasts, arms, and ears, as if they were afraid of concealing those parts which they think will please, or of not showing enough of themselves. The countenance of the inhabitants of this country is not clear, but blurred and shrouded with a mass of hair that does not belong to them, but which they prefer to their own, and which is woven into a something to cover their heads, hanging down half way their bodies, altering all their features, and preventing people from being known by their natural faces. This nation has, besides, its God and its king: the high and mighty among them go at a fixed time every day to a temple they call a church; at the upper end of that temple stands an altar consecrated to their God, where a certain priest celebrates some mysteries, called by them holy, sacred, and formidable. The high and mighty men stand in a large circle at the foot of the altar, with their back to the priest and the holy mysteries, and their faces towards their king, who is seen kneeling in a raised and open pew, and towards whom all minds and all hearts seem directed. However, a certain kind of subordination is to be observed whilst this is going on; for this people seem to adore their prince, and their prince appears to worship God. The natives of this country call it.... It is situated about forty-eight degrees northern latitude, and more than eleven hundred leagues by sea from the Iroquois and the Hurons.440

(75.) Whoever will consider that a kingʼs presence constitutes the entire happiness of courtiers, that their sole occupation and satisfaction during the whole course of their lives is to see and be seen by him,441 will in some measure understand how to behold God may constitute the glory and felicity of the saints.442

(76.) Great noblemen show their respect for their prince; this concerns them, as they have also their dependants. Courtiers of inferior rank are more relaxed in those duties, assume a kind of familiarity, and live like men whose examples none will follow.

(77.) What is there wanting in the youth of the present time? They can do and they know everything; or at least if they do not know as much as it is possible to know, they are as positive as if they did.

(78.) How weak are men! A great lord says of your friend Timagenes that he is a blockhead, but he makes a mistake. I do not require you to reply that Timagenes is a clever man, but only dare think he is not a blockhead.

He says also that Iphicrates is a coward; and you have seen him perform an act of bravery. But do not be uneasy. I do not insist you should relate it, but, after what you have heard this lord say, still remember that you saw him perform it.

(79.) To know how to speak to a king is perhaps the sole art of a prudent and pliant courtier. One word escapes him, which the prince hears, recollects, and sometimes lodges in his heart; there is no recalling it; all the care and skill that can be used to explain or soften it, serves only to impress it the more and to bite it in deeper. If the courtier has only spoken against himself, though this misfortune is very unusual, the remedy is at hand; he must take warning by his fault, and bear the punishment of his levity; but if another be the victim, he ought to feel dejected and contrite. Is there a better rule in such a dangerous conjuncture than to talk to our sovereign of others, of their persons, works, actions, manners, or conduct, at least with the same reserve, precaution, and care with which we talk of ourselves?

(80.) I would say that a man who tries to be witty must have a most wretched character, if it had not been said before.443 Those persons who injure the reputation or position of others for the sake of a witticism deserve to be punished with ignominy; this has not been said before, and I dare say it.

(81.) There are a certain number of ready-made phrases which we store and use when we wish to congratulate one another. Though we often utter them without really feeling what we say, and are received without gratitude, yet we must not omit them, because, at least, they represent the very best thing in this world, namely, friendship; and since men cannot depend on one another in reality, they seem to have agreed to be satisfied with appearances.

(82.) With five or six terms of art, and nothing else, we set up for connoisseurs in music, painting, architecture, and gastronomy; we fancy we have more pleasure than others in hearing, seeing, or eating; we impose on our fellow-creatures and deceive ourselves.

(83.) At court there are always a certain number of people to whom a knowledge of the world, politeness, or fortune supply the want of merit;444 they know how to enter and to leave a room; they are never embarrassed in their conversation, because they never engage in one; they please by their very taciturnity, and make themselves appear of importance by their prolonged silence, or by uttering, at most, a few monosyllables; they answer you by a glance, an intonation, a gesture, and a smile; their understanding, if I may venture on the expression, is only two inches deep, and if you fathom it, you will soon come to the bottom.

(84.) There are some men on whom favour lights as it were accidentally; they are the first it surprises and even alarms; they recollect themselves at last, and think they are worthy of their good fortune; and, as if stupidity and fortune were two things incompatible, or as if it were impossible to be lucky and foolish at one and the same time, they fancy they are intelligent, and venture, or I should rather say, are conceited enough, to speak on all occasions, on every possible subject, and without any regard for their audience. I might add that at last they become terrible, and disgust every one by their fatuity and nonsense. This is at least certain; they infallibly discredit those who assisted them in their promotion.445

(85.) What shall we call those who are only shrewd in the opinion of fools? I know this, that able men rank them with the people they impose upon.

A man must be very shrewd to make other people believe that he is not so sharp after all.

Shrewdness is neither too good nor too bad a quality, but is something between a virtue and a vice; there is scarcely any circumstance in which prudence cannot supply its place, and, perhaps, in which it ought not to do so.

Shrewdness is a near neighbour of rascality; there is but a step from the one to the other, and that a slippery one; falsehood only makes the difference, for add shrewdness to it, and the result is rascality.

Amongst those people who, out of shrewdness, hear everything and talk little, be sure to talk less; or, if you must talk much, say little.

(86.) You have a just and important business depending on the consent of two persons; and one of them says to you that he will favour it provided the other will agree to it, which the latter does, though he wishes to know what the first intends doing. Meanwhile nothing comes of it; and months and years roll on to no purpose. You say you are bewildered, that it is a complete mystery to you, and that all that was necessary for your success was for these two persons to meet together and to converse about it. I tell you I see through it all, and it is no mystery to me; they have met and conversed about your business.

(87.) Methinks a man who solicits for others shows the confidence of a person asking for justice, whilst he who speaks or acts for himself is as embarrassed and bashful as if he were asking a favour.

(88.) If a courtier be not continually upon his guard against the snares laid for him to make him ridiculous, he will, with all his sagacity, be amazed to find himself duped by people far less intelligent than he is.

(89.) In life some circumstances may happen when truth and simplicity prove the best policy.

(90.) If you are in favour, whatever you do is well done; you commit no faults, and every step you take leads you to the goal; but if you are not in favour, everything you do is faulty and useless, and whatever path you take leads you out of the way.

(91.) A man who has schemed for some time can no longer do without it; all other ways of living are to him dull and insipid.

(92.) Intelligence is requisite to be a schemer; yet a man may have a sufficient amount of it to be above scheming and plotting, and above subjecting himself to such things; in such a case he takes other means for bettering his fortune, or for acquiring a brilliant reputation.

(93.) Fear not, O Aristides, with your sublime intellect, your universal learning, your well-tried honesty, and your highly accomplished merits, to fall into disgrace at court, or to lose the favour of men of high rank so long as they need you.446

(94.) Let a favourite watch his actions very narrowly; for if I have to wait in his anteroom not so long as usual; if his countenance be more open, his forehead less clouded; if he listens to me more patiently, and sees me to the door a little farther than he used to do, I shall think he is tottering, and shall not be mistaken.

Man has but very little strength of mind, for disgrace or mortifications are needed to make him more humane, pliable, less rude, and more of a gentleman.

(95.) If we observe certain people at court, their discourses and their whole conduct show that they think neither of their grandfathers nor grandchildren; they only care for the present, and that they do not enjoy, but abuse.

(96.) Straton447 is born under two planets, equally fortunate and unfortunate; his life is a romance, but with even less probability. Adventures he had none, but good and bad dreams in abundance, or, if I may say so, no dreams come up to his life. Fate has been to none more kind than to him; he is acquainted with the mean and the extremes of life; he has made a figure, been in distress, led an ordinary life, and gone through all vicissitudes. He has made himself valued for those virtues which he seriously asserted he possessed; he has said of himself, “I have intelligence and courage,” and every one said after him, “He has intelligence and courage.” In his good and bad fortune he has experienced the disposition of courtiers, who said of him perhaps more good and more ill than ever he deserved. When people praised him they called him pretty, amiable, rare, wonderful, and heroic; and words quite the contrary have also been employed to vilify him. His character is heterogeneous, mixed and confused; his life has been an enigma, which is not yet wholly solved.

(97.) Favour raises a man above his equals, and disgrace throws him below them.

(98.) He who one day or other deliberately abandons a great name, a great authority, or a large fortune, frees himself at once from many troubles, many restless nights, and sometimes from many crimes.

(99.) The world will be the same a hundred years hence as it is now; there will be the same stage and the same decorations, though not the same actors. All who were glad to receive favours, as well as those who were grieved and in despair for boons that were refused, shall have disappeared from the boards; others have already made their entrances who will act the same parts in the same plays, and in their turn make their exits, whilst those who have not yet appeared one day will also be gone, and fresh actors will take their places. What reliance is there to be placed on any actor?

(100.) Whoever has seen the court has seen the most handsome, the best-looking, and the most decked-out part of the world. He who despises the court after having seen it, despises the world.

(101.) The city makes a man take a dislike to the country; the country undeceives him as to the city and cares of the court.

A healthy mind acquires at court a liking for solitude and retirement.448

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IX.
OF THE GREAT.

(1.)THE common people are so blindly prepossessed in favour of the great, and so enthusiastic about their bearing, looks, tone of voice, and manners, that if the latter would take it into their heads to be good, this prepossession would become idolatry.

(2.) If you are intrinsically vicious, O Theagenes449 I pity you; if you have become so out of weakness for those men who have an interest in your being debauched, who have conspired to corrupt you, and boast already of their success, you will excuse me if I despise you. But if you are wise, temperate, modest, polite, generous, grateful, industrious, and besides of a birth and rank which ought to set examples rather than copy those others give, and to make rules rather than to receive them, agree with such a class of men, and be complaisant enough to imitate their disorders, vices, and follies, after the respect they owe you has obliged them to imitate your virtues. This is a bitter but useful ironical remark, very suitable for securing your morals, for ruining all their projects, and for compelling them to remain as they are, and leave you as you are.

(3.) In one thing great men have an immense advantage over others; they may enjoy their sumptuous banquets, their costly furniture, their dogs, horses, monkeys, dwarfs, fools, and flatterers; but I envy them the happiness of having in their service their equals, and sometimes even their superiors, in feelings and intelligence.

(4.) Great lords delight in opening glades in forests, in raising terraces on long and solid foundations, in gilding their ceilings, in bringing a good deal of water where there was none before, in growing oranges in hothouses; but they are not anxious to restore peace to the distracted, to make joyful the afflicted, and to forestall urgent necessities, or to relieve them.

(5.) The question arises, whether, in comparing the different conditions of men, their troubles and advantages, we cannot observe such a mixture or balance of good and evil as seems to place them on an equality, or at least as makes one scarcely more desirable than another. Those men who are powerful, rich, and who want nothing may put the question, but the decision must be left to the indigent.

There is, however, a kind of charm belonging to each of those different conditions, and which lasts till misery removes it. The great please themselves in excess, their inferiors in moderation: these delight in lording and commanding; those are pleased, and even proud, to serve and to obey: the great are surrounded, complimented, and respected; the little surround, compliment, and cringe; and both are satisfied.

(6.) Good words cost the great so little, and their rank gives them such a dispensation for not keeping what they have most solemnly promised, that they really are moderate in being so sparing of those promises.

(7.) “Such a person,” says some great man, “has grown old and feeble, and has worn himself out in my service. What can I do for him?” A younger competitor steps in, and obtains the post which had been refused to this unfortunate man for no other reason but that he too well deserved it.

(8.) “I do not know how it happens,” you exclaim with a cold and disdainful air, “that Philanthes, though he possesses merit, intelligence, is agreeable, exact in fulfilling his duties, faithful and fond of his master, is not greatly valued by him, cannot please, and is not at all liked.”—“Explain yourself; do you blame Philanthes or the great man whom he serves?”

(9.) It is often more advantageous to quit the service of great men than to complain of them.

(10.) Who can explain to me why some men get a prize in a lottery and others find favour with the great?

(11.) The great are so happily situated that in the whole course of their lives they never feel the loss of their best servants, or of persons eminent in their various capacities, and from whom they have obtained all the pleasure and profit they could. As soon as those unique persons, so difficult to replace, are dead, a host of flatterers are ready to expose their supposed weaknesses, from which, according to them, their successors are entirely free; they are convinced that these successors, whilst possessing all the skill and knowledge of their predecessors, will have none of their faults; and this is the language which consoles princes for the loss of worthy and excellent servants, and makes them satisfied with indifferent ones.450

(12.) The great feel a contempt for intelligent men, who have nothing but intelligence; men of intelligence despise the great, who possess nothing but greatness; a good man pities them both, if their greatness or intelligence is not allied with virtue.

(13.) When, on the one hand, I see some brisk, busy, intriguing, bold, dangerous, and obnoxious persons at the table of the great, and sometimes intimate with them, and, on the other hand, consider what difficulty a man of merit has to obtain an interview with them, I am not always inclined to believe that the wicked are tolerated out of interest, or that good men and true are looked upon as useless; but I am rather confirmed in my opinion that rank and sound judgment do not always go together, and that a liking for virtue and virtuous people is a distinct quality.

(14.) Lucilius chooses to spend his life rather in being admitted on sufferance by a few of the great than in being reduced to his living familiarly with his equals.

The custom of associating with people who are our superiors in rank ought to have some restrictions; it often requires extraordinary talents to put it into practice.451

(15.) Theophilusʼ disease seems to be incurable; he has suffered from it these thirty years, and now he is past recovery. He was, is, and will always be desirous of governing the great; death alone can extinguish with his life this craving for swaying and ruling other minds. Is it in him zeal for his neighbourʼs weal, or is he accustomed to it, or is it an excessive good opinion he has of himself? He insinuates himself into every palace, and does not stop in the middle of an apartment, but goes on to a window-niche or a closet; other people wait to be seen or to have an audience till he has finished his speech, which lasts generally a goodly time, during which he gesticulates much. He penetrates the secrets of many families, has a share in their good or bad fortunes; forestalls many an occasion, offers his services, and forces himself upon people so discreetly452 that he must be admitted. The care of ten thousand souls, for which he is accountable to Providence as much as for his own, is not sufficient to employ his time or satisfy his ambition; there are others of a higher rank, and of more consideration, for whom he is not responsible, but of whom he officiously takes charge. He listens and watches for anything that may gratify his spirit of intrigue, meddling and muddling. A great man has scarcely set foot on shore, but he gets hold of him, and pounces upon him; and we hear that Theophilus is his guide and director before we could even suspect he had so much as thought of it.453

(16.) A coldness or incivility from our superiors in rank makes us hate them; but a bow or a smile soon reconciles us.

(17.) There are some proud men whom the success of their rivals humbles and mortifies; it is a disgrace which even sometimes makes them return your bow; but time, which alleviates all things, restores them at last to their natural disposition.

(18.) The contempt the great feel for the common people renders them so indifferent to their flattery or praises, that it does not feed their vanity. In like manner, princes praised continually and unreservedly by the great and the courtiers, would be more elated if they had a better opinion of those who praise them.

(19.) The great believe themselves the only persons who are the pink of perfection, and will hardly allow any sound judgment, ability, or refined feelings in any of a meaner rank; but they arrogate to themselves those qualities by virtue of their birth. However, they are greatly in error in entertaining such absurd prejudices, for the best thoughts, the best discourses, the best writings, and perhaps the most refined behaviour, have not always been found among them. They have large estates and a long train of ancestors, and there is no arguing about those facts.454

(20.) Have you any intelligence, grandeur of mind, capacity, taste, sound judgment? Can I believe prejudice and flattery which so boldly proclaim your merit? No! I suspect and reject them. I will not be dazzled by that look of capacity and grandeur which makes it appear as if you could act, speak, and write better than any one else; which makes you so niggardly of bestowing praise, and renders it impossible to obtain the smallest approbation from you. Hence I naturally infer that you are a favourite, have influence, and are very wealthy. How shall we describe you, Telephon?455 We can only approach you as we do fire, namely, from a certain distance; and to form an opinion of you in a sensible and rational manner, we ought to strip you, handle you, and confront you with your equals. Your confidant, your most intimate friend, who gives you advice, for whom you give up the society of Socrates and Aristides, with whom you laugh, and who laughs louder than yourself, Davus,456 in short, I know thoroughly; and this is enough for me to make you out.

(21.) There are some persons who, if they did know their inferiors and themselves, would be ashamed to be above them.

(22.) If there are but few excellent orators, are there many who can understand them? If good writers are scarce, are there many who can read? Thus we are always complaining of the paucity of persons qualified to counsel kings, and assist them in the administration of affairs; but if such able and intelligent personages make their appearance, and act according to their ideas and knowledge, are they beloved and esteemed as much as they deserve? Are they commended for what they plan and do for their country? They exist, that is all; they are censured if they fail, and envied if they succeed. Let us then blame the people for whom it would be ridiculous to find an excuse. The great and those in power look on their dissatisfaction and jealousy as inevitable; and, for this reason, they have been gradually induced not to take into account and to neglect their opinions in whatever they undertake, and even to consider this a rule in politics.

The common people hate one another for the injuries they reciprocally do each other; the great are execrated by them for all the harm they do, and for all the good they do not, whilst they are also blamed for their obscurity, poverty, and misfortunes.

(23.) The great think it too much condescension to have the same religion and the same God as the common people, for how can they be called Peter, John, or James, as any tradesman or labourer? Let us avoid, they say, to have anything in common with the multitude; let us affect, on the contrary, a distinction which may separate us from them; the people are welcome to the twelve apostles, their disciples, and the first martyrs, fit patrons for such folks; let them every year rejoice on some saintʼs day, which each celebrates as if it were his birthday;457 but for us great people, let us have recourse to profane names, and be baptized by such patronymics as Hannibal, Cæsar, and Pompey, for they were indeed great men; by that of Lucretia, for she was an illustrious Roman lady; or by those of Rinaldo, Rogero, Oliviero, and Tancredo,458 who were paladins and among the most marvellous heroes of romance; by those of Hector, Achilles, or Hercules, all demi-gods: even by those of Phœbus and Diana; and who shall prevent us from calling ourselves Jupiter, Mercury, Venus, or Adonis?459

(24.) While the great neglect to become acquainted not only with the interests of their princes and with public affairs, but with their own, while they ignore how to govern a household or a family, boast of this very ignorance, and are impoverished and ruled by their agents, while they are satisfied with being dainty in eating and drinking,460 with visiting Thais and Phryne,461 talking of various packs of hounds, telling how many stages there are between Paris and Besançon or Philipsburg,462 some citizens instruct themselves in what is going on within and without the kingdom, study the art of government, become shrewd politicians, are acquainted with the strength and weakness of an entire state, think of bettering their position, obtain a place, rise, become powerful, and relieve their prince of a portion of the cares of state. The great, who disdained them, now respect them, and think themselves fortunate in being accepted as their sons-in-law.463

(25.) If I compare the two most opposite conditions of men, I mean the great and the common people, the latter appear satisfied if they only have the necessities of life, and the former fretful and poor amidst superfluities. A man of the people can do no harm; a great man will do no good, and is capable of doing great mischief; the first only plans and practises useful things, the second adds to them what is hurtful. Here rusticity and frankness show themselves ingenuously; there a malignant and corrupt disposition lies hidden under a veneer of politeness. If the common people have scarcely any culture, the great have no soul; the first have a good foundation and no outward appearances; the latter are all outward appearance and but a mere superstratum. Were I to choose between the two, I should select, without hesitation, being a plebeian.

(26.) However able the great at court may be, and whatever skill they may possess in appearing what they are not, and in not appearing what they are, they cannot conceal their malice and their inclination to make fun of other people, and often to render a person ridiculous who is not really so. These fine talents are discovered in them at the first glance, and are admirable without doubt to ensnare a dupe or make a fool of a man who already was one, but are still better suited to deprive them of the pleasure they might receive from a person of intelligence, who knows how to vary and adapt his conversation in a thousand agreeable and pleasant ways, and would do so, if the dangerous inclination of a courtier to ridicule any one did not induce him to be very reserved; he, therefore, assumes a grave air, and so effectively entrenches himself behind it, that the jokers, ill disposed as they are, cannot find an opportunity of making fun of him.

(27.) Ease, affluence, and a smooth and prosperous career are the cause why princes can take some delight in laughing at a dwarf, a monkey, an imbecile, or a wretched story; men less fortunate never laugh but when they ought to.

(28.) A great man loves champagne and hates wine from La Brie; he gets intoxicated with better wine than a man of the people; and this is the only difference between orgies in the two most opposite conditions of life, that of a lord and of a footman.

(29.) It would seem, at the first glance, that the pleasures of princes always are a little seasoned with the pleasure of inconveniencing other people. But this is not so; princes are like other men; they only think of themselves, and follow their own inclinations, passions, and convenience, which is quite natural.

(30.) One would think that the first rule of companies, of people in office and in power, is to provide those who depend on them in their business with as many obstructions as they dread those dependants might place in their way.

(31.) I cannot imagine in what a great man is happier than others, except perhaps in having more often the power as well as the opportunity of rendering a service; and if such an opportunity occurs, it seems to me that by all means he ought to embrace it. If it is for an honest man, he should be afraid of letting it slip; but as it is right to act thus, he should forestall any solicitation, and not be seen until thanks are due to him for his success: if it is an easy thing to render such a service, he should not set any value on it; if he refuses to assist this honest man, I pity them both.

(32.) Some men are born inaccessible, and yet these are the very men of whom others stand in need, and on whom they depend; they move about continually, are as restless as quicksilver, turn on their heels, gesticulate, shout, and are always in motion. Like those cardboard temples erected for fireworks during public festivals, they scatter fire and flames, thunder and lightning; and there is no approaching them until they are extinguished and have fallen down, and then only they can be handled, but are of no more use, and good for nothing.

(33.) A Swiss hall-porter, a valet-de-chambre, a footman, if they have no more sense than belongs to their station in life, do no longer estimate themselves by the meanness of their condition, but by the rank and fortune of those whom they serve, and without discrimination think that all people who enter by the door or ascend the staircase where they are in waiting are inferior to them and their masters; so true is it that we are doomed to suffer from the great and from all who belong to them.464

(34.) A man in office ought to love his prince, his wife, his children, and, next to them, men of intelligence; he ought to befriend them, surround himself with them, and never be without them; he cannot repay, I will not say with too many pensions or kindnesses, but with too great an intimacy and too many demonstrations of friendship, the assistance and the services they render him even when he does not suspect it. What rumours do they not scatter to the winds? How many stories do they not prove to be but fable and fiction? How well do they understand to justify want of success by good intentions, and demonstrate the soundness of a project and the correctness of certain measures by a prosperous issue; raise their voices against malice and envy, and prove that good enterprises proceed from the best of motives; put a favourable construction on wretched appearances, palliate slight faults, exhibit only virtues and place them in the best light; spread on innumerable occasions a report of facts and details which redound to their patronʼs honour, and make a jest of those who dare doubt it or advance anything to the contrary. I know it is a maxim with great men to let people speak, while they themselves continue to act as they think fit; but I also know that it not seldom happens that their carelessness in paying attention to what people say of them prevents them from performing the actions they intended.

(35.) To be sensible of merit, and, when known, to treat it well, are two great steps quickly to be taken one after another, but of which few great men are capable.

(36.) You are great, you are powerful, but this is not enough; act in such a manner that I can esteem you, so that I should be sorry to lose your favour, or sorry I was never able to obtain it.

(37.) You say of a great man or of a person in office, that he is very obliging, kind, and delights in being serviceable; and you confirm this by giving details of everything he has done in a certain business, in which he knew you took some interest. I understand what you mean; you succeed without any solicitation, you have influence, you are known to the ministers of state, you stand well with the great. What else would you have me understand?

A man tells you, “I think I am not very well treated by a certain personage; he has become proud since he has bettered his position; he treats me with contempt and no longer knows me.” You answer, “I have no reason to complain of him; on the contrary, I must commend him; he even seems to be to be very civil.” I believe I understand you too. You would let us know that some person in office has a regard for you, that in the anteroom he selects you from a large number of cultured gentlemen from whom he turns aside, to avoid the inconvenience of bowing to them or smiling on them.

“To commend some one, to commend some great man,” is a nice phrase to start with, and which doubtless means to commend ourselves, when we relate all the good some great man has done to us, or never thought of doing to us.

We praise the great to show we are intimate with them, rarely out of esteem or gratitude; we often do not know the persons we praise; vanity and levity not seldom prevail over resentment; we are very dissatisfied465 with them, and yet we praise them.

(38.) If it is dangerous to be concerned in a suspicious affair, it is much more so when you are an accomplice of the great; they will get clear and leave you to pay double, and for them and for yourself.466

(39.) A princeʼs fortune is not large enough to pay a man for a base complacency, if he considers what it costs the man whom he would reward; and all his power is not sufficient to punish him, if he measures the punishment by the injury done to him.

(40.) The nobility expose their lives for the safety of the state and the glory of their sovereign, and the magistrates relieve the prince of part of the burden of administering justice to his people. Both these functions are sublime and of great use, and men are scarcely capable of performing higher duties; but why men of the robe and the sword reciprocally despise each other is beyond my comprehension.

(41.) If it be true that the great venture more in risking their lives, destined to be spent in gaiety, pleasure, and plenty, than a private person who ventures only a life that is wretched, it must also be confessed that they receive a wholly different compensation, namely, glory and a grand reputation. The common soldier entertains no thoughts of becoming known, and dies unnoticed, among many others; he lived indeed very much in the same way, but still he was alive; this is one of the chief causes of the want of courage in people of low and servile condition. On the contrary, those personages whose birth distinguishes them from the common people, and who are exposed to the gaze of all men, to their censures and praises, exert themselves more than they were predisposed to do, even if they are not naturally courageous;467 and this elevation of heart and mind, which they derive from their ancestors, is the cause of courage being usually found among persons of noble birth, and is perhaps nobility itself.

Press me into the service as a common soldier, I am Thersites; put me at the head of an army for which I am responsible to the whole of Europe, and I am Achilles.468

(42.) Princes, without any science or rules, can form a judgment by comparison; they are born and brought up amidst the best things, with which they compare what they read, see, and hear. Whoever does not approach Lulli, Racine, and Le Brun469 they condemn.

(43.) To talk to young princes of nothing but their rank is an excess of precaution, while all courtiers consider it their duty and part and parcel of their politeness to respect them; so that they are less apt to ignore the regard due to their birth than to confound persons, and treat all sorts of ranks and conditions of men indifferently, or without distinction. They have an innate pride which they show when needed; they only have to be taught how to regulate it, and how to acquire kindness of heart, culture, gentlemanly manners, and sound discrimination.