However, I paid it at a venture; though I would almost rather lose the money, than that such a signature should be yours.  All gentlemen, and all men of business, write their names always in the same way, that their signature may be so well known as not to be easily counterfeited; and they generally sign in rather larger character than their common hand; whereas your name was in a less, and a worse, than your common writing.  This suggested to me the various accidents which may very probably happen to you, while you write so ill.  For instance, if you were to write in such a character to the Secretary’s office, your letter would immediately be sent to the decipherer, as containing matters of the utmost secrecy, not fit to be trusted to the common character.  If you were to write so to an antiquarian, he (knowing you to be a man of learning) would certainly try it by the Runic, Celtic, or Sclavonian alphabet, never suspecting it to be a modern character.  And, if you were to send a ‘poulet’ to a fine woman, in such a hand, she would think that it really came from the ‘poulailler’; which, by the bye, is the etymology of the word ‘poulet’; for Henry the Fourth of France used to send billets-doux to his mistresses by his ‘poulailler’, under pretense of sending them chickens; which gave the name of poulets to those short, but expressive manuscripts.  I have often told you that every man who has the use of his eyes and of his hand, can write whatever hand he pleases; and it is plain that you can, since you write both the Greek and German characters, which you never learned of a writing-master, extremely well, though your common hand, which you learned of a master, is an exceedingly bad and illiberal one; equally unfit for business or common use.  I do not desire that you should write the labored, stiff character of a writing-master:  a man of business must write quick and well, and that depends simply upon use.  I would therefore advise you to get some very good writing-master at Paris, and apply to it for a month only, which will be sufficient; for, upon my word, the writing of a genteel plain hand of business is of much more importance than you think.  You will say, it may be, that when you write so very ill, it is because you are in a hurry, to which I answer, Why are you ever in a hurry?  A man of sense may be in haste, but can never be in a hurry, because he knows that whatever he does in a hurry, he must necessarily do very ill.  He may be in haste to dispatch an affair, but he will care not to let that haste hinder his doing it well.  Little minds are in a hurry, when the object proves (as it commonly does) too big for them; they run, they hare, they puzzle, confound, and perplex themselves:  they want to do everything at once, and never do it at all.  But a man of sense takes the time necessary for doing the thing he is about, well; and his haste to dispatch a business only appears by the continuity of his application to it:  he pursues it with