some, observation others; attend carefully to the manners, the diction, the motions, of people of the first fashion, and form your own upon them.  On the other hand, observe a little those of the vulgar, in order to avoid them:  for though the things which they say or do may be the same, the manner is always totally different:  and in that, and nothing else, consists the characteristic of a man of fashion.  The lowest peasant speaks, moves, dresses, eats, and drinks, as much as a man of the first fashion, but does them all quite differently; so that by doing and saying most things in a manner opposite to that of the vulgar, you have a great chance of doing and saying them right.  There are gradations in awkwardness and vulgarism, as there are in everything else.  ‘Les manieres de robe’, though not quite right, are still better than ‘les manieres bourgeoises’; and these, though bad, are still better than ‘les manieres de campagne’.  But the language, the air, the dress, and the manners of the court, are the only true standard ’des manieres nobles, et d’un honnete homme.  Ex pede Herculem’ is an old and true saying, and very applicable to our present subject; for a man of parts, who has been bred at courts, and used to keep the best company, will distinguish himself, and is to be known from the vulgar by every word, attitude, gesture, and even look.  I cannot leave these seeming ‘minutiae’, without repeating to you the necessity of your carving well; which is an article, little as it is, that is useful twice every day of one’s life; and the doing it ill is very troublesome to one’s self, and very disagreeable, often ridiculous, to others.

Having said all this, I cannot help reflecting, what a formal dull fellow, or a cloistered pedant, would say, if they were to see this letter:  they would look upon it with the utmost contempt, and say that surely a father might find much better topics for advice to a son.  I would admit it, if I had given you, or that you were capable of receiving, no better; but if sufficient pains have been taken to form your heart and improve your mind, and, as I hope, not without success, I will tell those solid gentlemen, that all these trifling things, as they think them, collectively, form that pleasing ‘je ne sais quoi’, that ensemble, which they are utter strangers to both in themselves and others.  The word aimable is not known in their language, or the thing in their manners.  Great usage of the world, great attention, and a great desire of pleasing, can alone give it; and it is no trifle.  It is from old people’s looking upon these things as trifles, or not thinking of them at all, that so many young people are so awkward and so ill-bred.  Their parents, often careless and unmindful of them, give them only the common run of education, as school, university, and then traveling; without examining, and very often without being able to judge, if they did examine, what progress they make in any one of these stages.  Then, they carelessly