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 comfort themselves, and say, that their sons will do like other people’s sons; and so they do, that is, commonly very ill.  They correct none of the childish nasty tricks, which they get at school; nor the illiberal manners which they contract at the university; nor the frivolous and superficial pertness, which is commonly all that they acquire by their travels.  As they do not tell them of these things, nobody else can; so they go on in the practice of them, without ever hearing, or knowing, that they are unbecoming, indecent, and shocking.  For, as I have often formerly observed to you, nobody but a father can take the liberty to reprove a young fellow, grown up, for those kinds of inaccuracies and improprieties of behavior.  The most intimate friendship, unassisted by the paternal superiority, will not authorize it.  I may truly say, therefore, that you are happy in having me for a sincere, friendly, and quick-sighted monitor.  Nothing will escape me:  I shall pry for your defects, in order to correct them, as curiously as I shall seek for your perfections, in order to applaud and reward them, with this difference only, that I shall publicly mention the latter, and never hint at the former, but in a letter to, or a tete-d-tete with you.  I will never put you out of countenance before company; and I hope you will never give me reason to be out of countenance for you, as any one of the above-mentioned defects would make me.  ‘Praetor non, curat de minimis’, was a maxim in the Roman law; for causes only of a certain value were tried by him but there were inferior jurisdictions, that took cognizance of the smallest.  Now I shall try you, not only as ‘praetor’ in the greatest, but as ‘censor’ in lesser, and as the lowest magistrate in the least cases.