oportion as you fall short of
it. Upon the whole, lay aside, during your year's residence at Paris, all
thoughts of all that dull fellows call solid, and exert your utmost care
to acquire what people of fashion call shining. 'Prenez l'eclat et le
brillant d'un galant homme'.

Among the commonly called little things, to which you, do not attend,
your handwriting is one, which is indeed shamefully bad and illiberal; it
is neither the hand of a man of business, nor of a gentleman, but of a
truant school-boy; as soon, therefore, as you have done with Abbe Nolet,
pray get an excellent writing-master (since you think that you cannot
teach yourself to write what hand you please), and let him teach you to
write a genteel, legible, liberal hand, and quick; not the hand of a
procureur or a writing-master, but that sort of hand in which the first
'Commis' in foreign bureaus commonly write; for I tell you truly, that
were I Lord Albemarle, nothing should remain in my bureau written in your
present hand. From hand to arms the transition is natural; is the
carriage and motion of your arms so too? The motion of the arms is the
most material part of a man's air, especially in dancing; the feet are
not near so material. If a man dances well from the waist upward, wears
his hat well, and moves his head properly, he dances well. Do the women
say that you dress well? for that is necessary too for a young fellow.
Have you 'un gout vif', or a passion for anybody? I do not ask for whom:
an Iphigenia would both give you the desire, and teach you the means to
please.

In a fortnight or three weeks you will see Sir Charles Hotham at Paris,
in his way to Toulouse, where he is to stay a year or two. Pray be very
civil to him, but do not carry him into company, except presenting him to
Lord Albemarle; for, as he is not to stay at Paris above a week, we do
not desire that he should taste of that dissipation: you may show him a
play and an opera. Adieu, my dear child.

LETTER CXXXVI

LONDON, March 25, O. S. 1751.

MY DEAR FRIEND: What a happy period of your life is this? Pleasure is
now, and ought to be, your business. While you were younger, dry rules,
and unconnected words, were the unpleasant objects of your labors. When
you grow older, the anxiety, the vexations, the disappointments
inseparable from public business, will require the greatest share of your
time and attention; your pleasures may, indeed, conduce to your business,
and yo