the consequences that flow from them, they are carried on by a plausible appearance of things, or a hasty impetuosity of spirit, to the irretrievable ruin of themselves and families; fancy or passion, not reason and judgment, being the guides of their actions. Others lose their opportunities of advantage by an unsettled, dilatory temper of mind, suspending their determinations, till the proper ́season of acting is past. Due deliberation is therefore recommended, according to the importance and difficulty of the affair, and the limits of time it will admit of. If the case will allow of it, take a night's time to think of it; for that which is weighed over night, and reviewed in the morning, will be in some degree ripe for a judicious resolution. Indeed, as to trifling concerns, it is childish and annecessary to spend much time in determining concerning them; but of the two, a circumspect slowness in words and actions, is preferable to too much speed, as being less dangerous and hurtful. LETTER 162. To a young Gentleman, on his entering into the World, with di rections how to conduct himself. MY DEAR FRIEND, Your apprenticeship is near out, and you are soon to set up for yourself; that approaching moment is a critical one for you, and an anxious one for me. A tradesman, who would succeed in his way, must begin by establishing a character of integrity and good manners; without the former, nobody will go to his shop at all; without the latter, nobody will go there twice. This rule does not exclude the fair arts of trade. He may sell his goods. at the best price he can, within certain bounds. He may avail himself of the humor, the whims, and the fantastical tastes of his customers; but what he warrants to be good, must be really so; what he seriously asserts must be true, or his first fraudulent practices will soon end in a bankruptcy. It is the same in higher life, and in the great business of the world. A man who does not solidly establish, and really deserve, a character of truth, probity, good manners, and good morals, at his first setting out in the world, may impose, and shine like a meteor for a very short time, but will very soon vanish, and be extin guished with contempt. People easily pardon, in young men, the common irregularities of the senses; but they do not forgive the least vice of the heart. The heart never grows better by age; I fear worse, always harder. A young liar will be an old one; and a young knave will only be a greater knave as he grows older. But should a bad young heart, accompanied with a good head, which by the way is very seldom the case, really reform in a more advanced age, from a consciousness of its folly as well as of its guilt; such a conversion would only be thought prudential and political, but never sincere. hope in God, and I verily believe, that you want no moral virtue. Your character in the world must be built upon that solid foundation, or it will soon fall, and upon your own head. You cannot, therefore, be too careful, too nice, too scrupulous, in establishing this character at first, upon which your whole depends. Let no conversation, no example, no fashion, no silly desire of seeming to be above what most knaves, and many fools, call prejudices, ever tempt you to avow, excuse, extenuate, or laugh at the least breach of morality; but show, upon all occasions, and take all occasions to show a detestation and abhor rence of it. There, though young, you ought to be strict; and there only, while young, it becomes you to be strict and severe. But, there too, spare the persons, while you lash the crimes. All this relates, as you easi ly judge, to the vices of the heart; such as lying, fraud, envy, malice, detraction, &c. and I do not extend it to the little frailties of youth, flowing from high spirits, and warm blood. It would ill become you, at your age, to declaim against them, and sententiously censure a gallantry, an accidental excess of the table, a frolic, an inadvertency; no, keep as free from them yourself as you can ; but say nothing against them in others. They certainly mend by time, often by reason; and a man's worldly character is not affected by them, provided it be pure in all other respects. To come to a point of much less, yet of very great consequence, at your first setting out. Be upon your guard against vanity, the common failing of inexperienced youth; but particularly against that kind of vanity, that dubs a man a coxcomb. It is not to be imagined by how many ways vanity defeats its own purposes. One man decides peremptorily upon every subject, betrays his ignorance upon many, and shows a disgusting presumption upon the rest. Another desires to appear successful among the women; he hints at the encouragement he has received from those of the most distinguished rank and beauty, and intimates a particular connection with some one; if it is true, it is ungenerous; if false, it is infamous; but in either case, he destroys the reputation he wants to get. Some flatter their vanity by little extraneous objects, which have not the least relation to themselves, such as being descended from, related to, or acquainted with people of distinguished merit, and eminent characters. They talk perpetually of their grandfather such a one, their uncle'such a one, and their intimate friend such a one, whom possibly they are hardly acquainted with. But admitting it all to be as they would have it. What then? Have they the more merit for those accidents? Certainly not. On the contrary, their taking them up adventitiously, proves their want of intrinsic merit; a rich man never borrows. Take this rule for granted, as a never failing one, that you must never seem to affect the character in which you have a mind to shine. Modesty is the only sure bait, when you angle for praise. The affectation of courage will make even a brave man pass only for a bully; as the affectation of wit will make a man of parts pass for a coxcomb. By this modesty I do not mean timidity or awkward bashfulness. On the contrary, be inwardly firm and steady, know your own value, whatever it may be, and act upon that principle; but take great care to let nobody discover that you do know your own value. Whatever real merit you have, other people will discover; and people always magnify their own discoveries, as they lessen those of others. For God's sake revolve all these things seriously in your thoughts, before you launch out alone into the world. Recollect the observations which you have yourself made upon mankind, compare and connect them with my instructions, and then act systematically and consequentially from them. Lay your little plan now, which you will hereafter extend and improve by your own observations, and by the advice of those who can never mean to mislead you. I am, your faithful and affectionate friend. LETTER 163. From a Lady to her Friend who had buried her Husband. MY DEAR FRIEND, Impute not my silence to any want, but the excess of kindness, which makes me too much a partner of your sorrow, to find words at all suitable to the share I have with you in it. If therefore, I am the last in condoling, I do most faithfully assure you, that it is not insensibility, but the highest degree of love and tenderness that occasioned it. The grief that is least is soonest expressed, and perhaps, the more noise it makes, the less mischief is sustained by it. Had I been unconcerned, my thoughts and pen might have been more free, though I could not have said any thing sufficient to stem so violent a tide as your just lamentations. I might have offered some poor reasons against other women's afflicting themselves so much, which I should be ashamed to mention to you, having been a witness how far your husband's love and merits excelled the best of men I ever met with; and I am so sensible of your reciprocal affection, that I know the power of God only can support you under such a separation, which, I believe, was more terrible than death itself. But, my dear friend, your sorrow is not as one without hope. Use your utmost endeavors to submit to the hand of the Almighty, with as much resignation in this as you did in your own distemper, though that only assaulted your body, while this pierces your heart. You must remember, that it was the same merciful God that gave you him who has now taken him to himself; and in the midst of your afflictions, bless God for sparing you so long for the sake of your children. I hope you will consider that this |