new place, namely, London, before you join your friends in the country.

With the present style of youthful society at Oxford, I am scarcely at all acquainted. Some features of it I am much inclined to approve; for I am told, that, in the best circles at least, there is no drinking, which in my time was the bane of our meetings. I hear also that you are very well mannered towards each other-another very commendable circumstance. But there are dangers too, and one great evil, (I speak under correction,) is the temptation of card-playing. You remember, I dare say, Dr Johnson's definition of card-playing: in one point, that definition applies to such engagements at college; cards are a substitute, and a very bad one, for conversation, When When young men of good principles and good understandings meet together frequently, the vapid nonsense, which does mighty well whispered into the ear of an un-idea'd girl at a crowded rout in Edinburgh, London, or any where else, will not after a short while, go down; nor will the nobler argument of horses, dogs, double-barrelled guns, four-in-hand, &c. &c., stand its ground much longer; and then, were not cards produced, such young men would, in their own defence, betake themselves to rational and literary talk. I cannot believe that it would be otherwise ;-and this is one reason for deprecating cards. A greater evil

is the introduction of a taste for gaming, the most pernicious disorder of the mind. I am not going to declaim on so common a topic; but perhaps you will not be offended, if I counsel you not to enter into card-playing on any account. You cannot say, I will play one day and not another: you would affront your companions by that; but you will affront no one by determining never to play at all. Nor need you fear solicitations among well behaved persons; solicitations rejected once or twice with good humoured steadiness are never repeated. It is of indescribable consequence to make and abide by good resolutions at the outset; you may as well acquire a good habit as an evil one; for this reason, permit me to advise you to lay down certain regulations for the employment of your day: and I will take leave to caution you against permitting yourself to break through your arrangements on particular occasions, for these particular occasions have a habit of occurring so frequently, that at length they become imperious tyrants, and command you, instead of your commanding them.

My dear young friend, forgive me, if, with affectionate earnestness, I entreat you to beware of the dangers to which your first acquaintance with London may expose you. I have had the happiness of exhorting you, with the Bible before me, so frequently, (and I trust my exhortations are not forgotten,) that I need.

only, on this head, remind you that you are a Christian, the servant of a pure and holy Master. In public places, while the imagination is excited by a thousand irritations, there are objects, of enticement and seduction, which I need not describe more particularly, but against which you must be guarded. The world will not blame you; your young companions may perhaps encourage you, by example and solicitation, to yield to these seductions; but Oh, if you value your peace of mind, if you would preserve a good conscience towards God, if you would lay down your head on your pillow with comfort, flee from the contamination of vice-touch not the accursed thing,-you know not where the course of sensual indulgence, once begun, may end. This admonition I would offer to every young friend,—preserve the purity of your mind-once defiled, the spot is like the blood of Duncan, "all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten it," all the waters of the ocean will not cleanse it. Beware of the first false step, and prepare not for yourself the sorrows and torture of repentance. I do not wish to sermonize, to make my letters dull to you, and having once said this, for your sake, and for the sake "animam meam liberandi," I dismiss the subject. I remind you, that your religion is not an outward profession only, but an inward, vital principle. You will doubtless ask God's grace and blessing at the beginning of

the day-and when you beseech His protection during the night, you will implore His pardon for the errors and transgressions of the day. You will, I trust, read one chapter in your Greek Testament every day, and every where, and under the guidance of the Spirit which these exercises of duty and piety will obtain for you, you will live a happy life, because a virtuous life. And may God, who has called us to purity and sanctification, that we may inherit a blessing hereafter, bless and protect you in all you do. Believe me, my dear,

Your sincerely affectionate friend,

DANIEL SANdford.

MY BELOVED FRIEND,

December 5th, 1822.

I have read your most affecting and interesting letter, with such feelings as you may imagine, and with many an earnest supplication for you to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ; at the same time with much thankfulness, that, as "minister of reconciliation," I have comfort to offer you; and lastly, with a satisfaction not to be expressed, at the proof which this act of confidence in me, gives me of your entire and sincere affection.

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I do not ask for further explanations from you. I am now only anxious to do what I can

to direct your mind to the only source of consolation and support, at all times, and most especially under such circumstances as yours.

If you cannot now, you will, I trust, and am confident in the mercy of God, soon see, why I declare myself much more satisfied with your state of mind, than if you had continued tranquil. Of all states of mind, I deprecate a state of hardness and insensibility. The basis of all the blessed fabric of our salvation through our holy Redeemer, is laid in the acknowledgment of unworthiness and transgression. The prodigal son, in our Lord's parable, was in a state of distraction while he wasted his substance in riotous living," but no sooner had he his eyes opened to the evil of his ways, than he came to himself, and formed that resolution of confessing his sins. and seeking pardon at the feet of his father, which turned his steps homeward to the affectionate parent who was ready to receive him, and of whose kindness he could not have been truly sensible, till he was convinced of the greatness of his own transgressions. My dear friend, you know who is described under the character of the Father of the prodigal ;-and how infinite is that mercy which invites, without exception, all sinners to confess their burden and their sorrow, and to come unto Him, and be refreshed!

I am writing, as you will be reading, beneath the eye of Omnipresence; and under that inspection, and humbly and thankfully confiding in