My Dear Boy,

By the Van I send you this letter with 3 shillings, and with your mother (who with myself and your brothers and sisters is most anxious about you) desire every good wish for your health and prosperity - both of which blessings in great measure depend upon yourself. On Tuesday next you are going to London; and when you get there I anticipate your business will be on the high road to fame and fortune or to disgrace and ruin. It has pleased the Almighty Disposer of all things hitherto to preserve you from contamination. I believe that you speak the truth, are just in all your dealings - and with making every allowance for the natural corruption of our natures - more inclined to be good than, bad. You are of an age to know virtue from vice, and I will not expatiate upon the benefits resulting from the one and the misery attached to the other, feeling satisfied that your inclination will lead you to the former; and I sincerely pray that by experience you may never know the truth of my remarks as to the latter. I can have no motive but your happiness in speaking thus to you; for of all disinterested letters you may receive, those from your family must be preeminent. Your first duty every morning end evening is to ask God’s blessings, and to return thanks for those you have received. To the Mr. Morrices who have interested themselves in your behalf, shew your gratitude by following their advice, and in little nothings which you will understand much better than I can express - pay to them the greatest attention. I wish I could give you my experience, but as this is impossible, I shall only say make use of your understanding, and whenever you write to me for information, I will give it to you to the best of my judgment – let me intreat of you not to taste wine, either before dinner or unnecessarily; habits are soon acquired which in time become natural, and from little to little men soon become drunkards, and when once that is the case, ruin follows. I will not send you a sermon, but my interest for you makes me address you very seriously. Half the young men in London and out of it are ruined from not making family acquaintances when they can occaisionally go, and occupy themselves with rational and improving conversation. I am no advocate for a general acquainatnce with young men of your age, except such as have family connection; for one corrupts the other, and as they possess no experience, often wish to appear wiser than they are, and destruction to all generally follows. I regret I cannot come and see you before you leave the miss Pine’s, but as you are going to the oldest and best friends I possess – namely the Mr. Morricess – I feel more gratyified than I can express, and am sure that you cannot be in better hands; if you deserve their continued favours I am sure you will have them and all you have to do to insure this is to be very circumspect and cautious in not giving offence to anyone in argument, or by repeating what you hear – as I have before said – you must make use of you head, and in conversations and your acquantences use your discretion – as everything depends on this. Let me hear when you get to London where you are, and if you have not heard from anyone to the contrary. When you arrive in the borough, leave your box at the Coach office, and walk to Mr. Buck’s, who will tell you what to do. I think you will see your aunts, who are still in London, and most probably will not come here till they have seen you; return my warmest thanks to your friends for finding employment for you, and do everything in your power to keep your situation. It is a blessing you are so near to us; for at anytime upon an emergency vie could see each other in a few hours. I hope Mr. and Mrs. Morrice of St. Marry Axe will mother you, and if you are careful of yourself, are polite and attentive, pay respect to everyone, and endeavour to make friends, I know you will succeed. Mrs. Taylor, who is still here, desires me to say that she wishes you the same good wishes we all do; and with our united love I remain

Yr. Most Affect. Father