When you visit married people, pay particular attention to their children: the more noisy, troublesome, and disagreeable they are, the more is it incumbent upon you to praise them. Should the baby entertain you with a passionate squall for an hour or two, vow that it is "a charming child"—"a sweet pet"—"a dear, pretty, little creature," &c. &c. Call red hair auburn, and "a sweet, uncommon colour;" a squint, or cross-eye, think "an agreeable expression;" maintain that an ugly child is extremely handsome, and the image either of one or other of its parents, or of its handsomest, wealthiest, or most aristocratic relations. Discover which of a family is mamma's, and which papa's favourite, and pay your court accordingly; for it is better to lavish, in this case, your attentions and encomiums upon one or two, than upon all.
When requiring an introduction to any great people, scruple not to avail yourself of the services of the little; but when mounted as high as you please, by all means kick down your ladders, cast away your stepping stones—since they might, instead of being of any further assistance, only prove incumbrances to you.
Take every opportunity of joining in conversation with those to whom you desire to recommend yourself. Should you feel at a loss for topics of discourse, mention servants, and tradesmen, upon whom fail not to bestow most hearty abuse;—vow that they are an unprincipled set of knaves, scoundrels, and thieves. Hence you will be thought to have "much to say for yourself;" and should you be enabled to narrate any grievous losses sustained from these members of society, you will obtain credit for having "something to lose" at any rate, and find it of incalculable value.
When you direct a letter to a knight bachelor—though it is indeed customary and well-bred to omit altogether the Knt.—yet it will never be taken amiss should you venture to address him as a Knight of the Garter, Bath, &c.&c., or even as a Baronet. Undoubtedly it is as vulgar to misapprehend and confound titles, as it is to mispronounce and misspell names; nevertheless rest assured, that flattered vanity will go far to pardon vulgarity.
If a gentleman, pay infinite attention to the single ladies of a family—compliment, flirt, converse with, and ask them to dance. This conduct will obtain for you, on account of the fair creatures, marvellous good report, numerous invitations; and if you have sufficient tact to steer clear of committing yourself for more than a few flattering and general attentions, you may be considered one of the happiest of those who live—by their wits, and upon their friends.
Should your "dancing days be over," which is scarcely probable, considering how greatly it is now the fashion for "potent, grave, and reverend signors," and signoras also, to join the gay quadrille, &c. (and here we may as well note, that in genteel society, dowager honourables and old ladies may dance, whilst young, plain misses may not)—there are sundry modes of rendering yourself agreeable, which your own taste and talents, it is to be presumed, will naturally suggest: chess, whist, ecarté, quadrille, &c. &c., not to mention a little practical knowledge of music, are acquirements which cause an individual to be considered "very agreeable"—because very useful; and rely upon it, as the world goes, utility in nine cases out of ten is, with society, a consideration. Hence, no creature is so universally voted disagreeable as one from whom no kind of service can be exacted; and whilst roués, gamesters, and tipplers, duelists, pugilists, and blacklegs, are tolerated in society, stupid men are overlooked, or thrust out of it with contempt.
Dress in the extreme of fashion: you can neither gain nor maintain your ground without so doing; and as you have an end to answer, which your tailors or milliners have not, of course you will not suffer the unfashionable dictates of conscience, respecting their bills, to interfere with your proceedings.
Answer an invitation as soon as it is received; many individuals defer so doing for some days, which certainly shows fashionable ease and nonchalance, besides allowing time for the arrival of another and preferable one; but, by those who are absolutely bent upon advancing themselves in society, this practice is to be eschewed, since by perplexing, it so annoys the donor of a fête, that the chances are greatly against your ever again being asked.
Never omit, the day after a party, to send or leave your card, as an acknowledgment for the civility you have received. This ceremony, indeed, it is to your interest frequently to repeat at the doors of your friends, since it will ensure your never being forgotten by them.
Never go to an evening party until you are pretty certain that everybody else is coming away. Your consequence will by this conduct be enhanced;—you may protest that you have already appeared at two or three balls, &c. When, if a student or fashionable novel-writer, your time may have been more rationally employed at home, you go too late to dance much, if the exercise, or rather the partners, be disagreeable to you; you ensure being seen, which is something,—for, alas! how many worthy aspirants to fashion, fortune, and fame, if of no actual importance, are fated to pass unnoticed in a crowd! and the opportunity is besides afforded you of paying almost undivided attention to your host, hostess, and family, which must materially advance your interests. Neither be in too great haste to quit the houses of those to whom you desire to recommend yourself. Parties, even the worst, cost both money and trouble; and whilst the givers of them feel it no compliment to be run away from, as if a pestilence raged in their habitations, it is positively insulting to inform them that another soiree, from which you hope better things, awaits your presence.