head (which, by the way, very seldom is 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.  I hope in God, and I verily. believe, that you want no moral virtue.  But the possession of all the moral virtues, in ‘actu primo’, as the logicians call it, is not sufficient; you must have them in ‘actu secundo’ too; nay, that is not sufficient neither—­you must have the reputation of them also.  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 ‘bon mot’, 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 abhorrence 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 easily judge, to the vices of the heart, such as lying, fraud, envy, malice, detraction, etc., 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 now to a point of much less, but yet of very great consequence at your first setting out.  Be extremely upon your guard against vanity, the common failing of inexperienced youth; but particularly against that kind of vanity that dubs a man a coxcomb; a character which, once acquired, is more indelible than that of the priesthood.  It is not to be imagined by how many different 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