As for the 'mundus victus, non deficiente crumena', do you
deserve, and I will provide them.

It is with the greatest pleasure that I consider the fair prospect which
you have before you. You have seen, read, and learned more, at your age,
than most young fellows have done at two or three-and-twenty. Your
destination is a shining one, and leads to rank, fortune, and
distinction. Your education has been calculated for it; and, to do you
justice, that education has not been thrown away upon you. You want but
two things, which do not want conjuration, but only care, to acquire:
eloquence and manners; that is, the graces of speech, and the graces of
behavior. You may have them; they are as much in your power as powdering
your hair is; and will you let the want of them obscure (as it certainly
will do) that shining prospect which presents itself to you. I am sure
you will not. They are the sharp end, the point of the nail that you are
driving, which must make way first for the larger and more solid parts to
enter. Supposing your moral character as pure, and your knowledge as
sound, as I really believe them both to be; you want nothing for that
perfection, which I have so constantly wished you, and taken so much
pains to give you, but eloquence and politeness. A man who is not born
with a poetical genius, can never be a poet, or at best an extremely bad
one; but every man, who can speak at all, can speak elegantly and
correctly if he pleases, by attending to the best authors and orators;
and, indeed, I would advise those who do not speak elegantly, not to
speak at all; for I am sure they will get more by their silence than by
their speech. As for politeness: whoever keeps good company, and is not
polite, must have formed a resolution, and take some pains not to be so;
otherwise he would naturally and insensibly take the air, the address,
and the turn of those he converses with. You will, probably, in the
course of this year, see as great a variety of good company in the
several capitals you will be at, as in any one year of your life; and
consequently must (I should hope) catch some of their manners, almost
whether you will or not; but, as I dare say you will endeavor to do it, I
am convinced you will succeed, and that I shall have pleasure of finding
you, at your return here, one of the best-bred men in Europe.

I imagine, that when you receive my letters, and come to those parts of
them which relate to eloquence and politen