you can never make a figure without elegance of
style, and gracefulness of utterance; and you can never succeed as a
courtier at your own Court, or as a minister at any other, without those
innumerable 'petite riens dans les manieres, et dans les attentions'. Mr.
Yorke is by this time at Paris; make your court to him, but not so as to
disgust, in the least, Lord Albemarle, who may possibly dislike your
considering Mr. Yorke as the man of business, and him as only 'pour orner
la scene'. Whatever your opinion may be upon THAT POINT, take care not to
let it appear; but be well with them both by showing no public preference
to either.
Though I must necessarily fall into repetitions by treating the same
subject so often, I cannot help recommending to you again the utmost
attention to your air and address. Apply yourself now to Marcel's
lectures, as diligently as you did formerly to Professor Mascow's; desire
him to teach you every genteel attitude that the human body can be put
into; let him make you go in and out of his room frequently, and present
yourself to him, as if he were by turns different persons; such as a
minister, a lady, a superior, an equal, and inferior, etc. Learn to seat
genteelly in different companies; to loll genteelly, and with good
manners, in those companies where you are authorized to be free, and to
sit up respectfully where the same freedom is not allowable. Learn even
to compose your countenance occasionally to the respectful, the cheerful,
and the insinuating. Take particular care that the motions of your hands
and arms be easy and graceful; for the genteelness of a man consists more
in them than in anything else, especially in his dancing. Desire some
women to tell you of any little awkwardness that they observe in your
carriage; they are the best judges of those things; and if they are
satisfied, the men will be so too. Think now only of the decorations. Are
you acquainted with Madame Geoffrain, who has a great deal of wit; and
who, I am informed, receives only the very best company in her house? Do
you know Madame du Pin, who, I remember, had beauty, and I hear has wit
and reading? I could wish you to converse only with those who, either
from their rank, their merit, or their beauty, require constant
attention; for a young man can never improve in company where he thinks
he may neglect himself. A new bow must be constantly kept bent; when it
grows older, and has taken the right turn, it may n
|