are the only person I ever knew in the whole course of my life, who not only disdain, but absolutely reject and disguise a great advantage that nature has kindly granted.  You easily guess I mean countenance; for she has given you a very pleasing one; but you beg to be excused, you will not accept it; but on the contrary, take singular pains to put on the most ‘funeste’, forbidding, and unpleasing one that can possibly be imagined.  This one would think impossible; but you know it to be true.  If you imagine that it gives you a manly, thoughtful, and decisive air, as some, though very few of your countrymen do, you are most exceedingly mistaken; for it is at best the air of a German corporal, part of whose exercise is to look fierce, and to ‘blasemeer-op’.  You will say, perhaps, What, am I always to be studying my countenance, in order to wear this ‘douceur’?  I answer, No; do it but for a fortnight, and you never will have occasion to think of it more.  Take but half the pains to recover the countenance that nature gave you, that you must have taken to disguise and deform it as you have, and the business will be done.  Accustom your eyes to a certain softness, of which they are very capable, and your face to smiles, which become it more than most faces I know.  Give all your motions, too, an air of ‘douceur’, which is directly the reverse of their present celerity and rapidity.  I wish you would adopt a little of ’l’air du Couvent’ (you very well know what I mean) to a certain degree; it has something extremely engaging; there is a mixture of benevolence, affection, and unction in it; it is frequently really sincere, but is almost always thought so, and consequently pleasing.  Will you call this trouble?  It will not be half an hour’s trouble to you in a week’s time.  But suppose it be, pray tell me, why did you give yourself the trouble of learning to dance so well as you do?  It is neither a religious, moral, or civil duty.  You must own, that you did it then singly to please, and you were, in the right on’t.  Why do you wear fine clothes, and curl your hair?  Both are troublesome; lank locks, and plain flimsy rags are much easier.  This then you also do in order to please, and you do very right.  But then, for God’s sake, reason and act consequentially; and endeavor to please in other things too, still more essential; and without which the trouble you have taken in those is wholly thrown away.  You show your dancing, perhaps six times a year, at most; but you show your countenance and your common motions every day, and all day.  Which then, I appeal to yourself, ought you to think of the most, and care to render easy, graceful, and engaging?  Douceur of countenance and gesture can alone make them so.  You are by no means ill-natured; and would you then most unjustly be reckoned so?  Yet your common countenance intimates, and would make anybody who did not know you, believe it.  ‘A propos’ of this, I must tell you what was said the other day to a fine lady whom you know, who is