I must have been his father, which, thank God, I am not.  As fathers commonly go, it is seldom a misfortune to be fatherless; and, considering the general run of sons, as seldom a misfortune to be childless.  You and I form, I believe, an exception to that rule; for, I am persuaded that we would neither of us change our relation, were it in our power.  You will, I both hope and believe, be not only the comfort, but the pride of my age; and, I am sure, I will be the support, the friend, the guide of your youth.  Trust me without reserve; I will advise you without private interest, or secret envy.  Mr. Harte will do so too; but still there may be some little things proper for you to know, and necessary for you to correct, which even his friendship would not let him tell you of so freely as I should; and some, of which he may not possibly be so good a judge of as I am, not having lived so much in the great world.

One principal topic of our conversation will be, not only the purity but the elegance of the English language; in both which you are very deficient.  Another will be the constitution of this country, of which, I believe, you know less than of most other countries in Europe.  Manners, attentions, and address, will also be the frequent subjects of our lectures; and whatever I know of that important and necessary art, the art of pleasing.  I will unreservedly communicate to you.  Dress too (which, as things are, I can logically prove, requires some attention) will not always escape our notice.  Thus, my lectures will be more various, and in some respects more useful than Professor Mascow’s, and therefore, I can tell you, that I expect to be paid for them; but, as possibly you would not care to part with your ready money, and as I do not think that it would be quite handsome in me to accept it, I will compound for the payment, and take it in attention and practice.

Pray remember to part with all your friends, acquaintances, and mistresses, if you have any at Paris, in such a manner as may make them not only willing but impatient to see you there again.  Assure them of your desire of returning to them; and do it in a manner that they may think you in earnest, that is ’avec onction et une espece d’attendrissement’.  All people say, pretty near the same things upon those occasions; it is the manner only that makes the difference; and that difference is great.  Avoid, however, as much as you can, charging yourself with commissions, in your return from hence to Paris; I know, by experience, that they are exceedingly troublesome, commonly expensive, and very seldom satisfactory at last, to the persons who gave them; some you cannot refuse, to people to whom you are obliged, and would oblige in your turn; but as to common fiddle-faddle commissions, you may excuse yourself from them with truth, by saying that you are to return to Paris through Flanders, and see all those great towns; which I intend you shall do, and stay a week or ten days at Brussels.  Adieu!  A good journey to you, if this is my last; if not, I can repeat again what I shall wish constantly.