When they arrived at the house, they were informed that the gentleman was come, and had been shown into the parlour.  They found him sitting with a daughter of his friend’s, about three years old, on his knee, whom he was teaching the alphabet from a horn book:  at a little distance stood a sister of hers, some years older.  “Get you away, miss,” said he to this last; “you are a pert gossip, and I will have nothing to do with you.”—­“Nay,” answered she, “Nancy is your favourite; you are quite in love with Nancy.”—­“Take away that girl,” said he to her father, whom he now observed to have entered the room; “she has woman about her already.”  The children were accordingly dismissed.

Betwixt that and supper-time he did not utter a syllable.  When supper came, he quarrelled with every dish at table, but eat of them all; only exempting from his censures a salad, “which you have not spoiled,” said he, “because you have not attempted to cook it.”

When the wine was set upon the table, he took from his pocket a particular smoking apparatus, and filled his pipe, without taking any more notice of Harley, or his friend, than if no such persons had been in the room.

Harley could not help stealing a look of surprise at him; but his friend, who knew his humour, returned it by annihilating his presence in the like manner, and, leaving him to his own meditations, addressed himself entirely to Harley.

In their discourse some mention happened to be made of an amiable character, and the words honour and politeness were applied to it.  Upon this, the gentleman, laying down his pipe, and changing the tone of his countenance, from an ironical grin to something more intently contemptuous:  “Honour,” said he:  “Honour and Politeness! this is the coin of the world, and passes current with the fools of it.  You have substituted the shadow Honour, instead of the substance Virtue; and have banished the reality of friendship for the fictitious semblance which you have termed Politeness:  politeness, which consists in a certain ceremonious jargon, more ridiculous to the ear of reason than the voice of a puppet.  You have invented sounds, which you worship, though they tyrannize over your peace; and are surrounded with empty forms, which take from the honest emotions of joy, and add to the poignancy of misfortune.”  “Sir!” said Harley—­his friend winked to him, to remind him of the caution he had received.  He was silenced by the thought.  The philosopher turned his eye upon him:  he examined him from top to toe, with a sort of triumphant contempt; Harley’s coat happened to be a new one; the other’s was as shabby as could possibly be supposed to be on the back of a gentleman:  there was much significance in his look with regard to this coat; it spoke of the sleekness of folly and the threadbareness of wisdom.