third. What a taste in literature--such a talker--such shallowness, and
such assurance--not worth the answering--could not slip in a word--
disagreeable, revolting, awkward, slovenly, were the most complimentary
opinions bestowed upon the unfortunate Vincent. The women called him un
horreur, and the men un bete. The old railed at his mauvais gout, and the
young at his mauvais coeur, for the former always attribute whatever does
not correspond with their sentiments, to a perversion of taste, and the
latter whatever does not come up to their enthusiasm, to a depravity of
heart.

As for me, I went home, enriched with two new observations; first, that
one may not speak of any thing relative to a foreign country, as one
would if one was a native. National censures become particular affronts.

Secondly, that those who know mankind in theory, seldom know it in
practice; the very wisdom that conceives a rule, is accompanied with the
abstraction, or the vanity, which destroys it. I mean that the
philosopher of the cabinet is often too diffident to put into action his
observations, or too eager for display to conceal their design. Lord
Vincent values himself upon his science du monde. He has read much upon
men, he has reflected more; he lays down aphorisms to govern or to please
them. He goes into society; he is cheated by the one half, and the other
half he offends. The sage in the cabinet is but a fool in the salon; and
the most consummate men of the world are those who have considered the
least on it.




CHAPTER XXV.