It must be admitted that in order to live happy in the world there are sides to the soul which we must absolutely paralyse.
Man under present social conditions seems to me corrupted more by his reason than by his passions. His passions—I mean those that characterise the primitive man—have preserved for society the few natural elements it still possesses.
Speaking generally, were society not an artificial structure, every simple and genuine feeling would not produce the great effect it does; it would give pleasure without surprise, but, as a matter of fact, it both surprises and pleases. Our surprise is a satire on society, our pleasure an act of homage to nature.
Often man lives by himself and he has need of virtue; he lives with others and he has need of honour.
Are you the friend of a gentleman about the Court, of a man of quality, as the saying is, and do you wish to inspire in him the warmest affection of which the human heart is capable? If so, do not confine yourself to lavishing on him the tenderest cares of friendship, to helping him out of his troubles, consoling him in affliction, consecrating your every moment to him, saving on occasion his life or his honour. Do not waste your time on such trifles; do more, do better—work out his genealogical tree.