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 profits 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 extinguished
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 rather 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, 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 of
distinguished merit and eminent characters. They talk perpetually of
their grandfather such-a-one, their uncle such-a-one, and their intimate
friend Mr. Such-a-one, with whom, possibly, they are hardly acquainted.
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 up adventitious, 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 and 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 ocean of Paris. Recollect the
observations that you have yourself made upon mankind, compare and
connect them with my instructions, and then act systematically and
consequentially from them; not ‘au jour la journee’. 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 mean Mr. Harte and myself.