some sort of business, art, or presume, to one; I to another.

science: you have, I But this must be laid

down as a self-evident axiom for both of us (if we design to make any proficiency in one or the other), that the first step to be wise is to obey wise counsel, to practise the advice of our best friends: without this we shall never do any good, for by experience I know (as, if ever you have the misfortune to try, you will too) that young heads are neither fit nor able to choose for themselves. This being premised, it necessarily follows, that above all we are obliged to respect our parents, and obey their counsels; because it is morally impossible, it is contrary to the dictates of nature, that they should do or choose what is opposite to our interest. But all young persons (and for my own part, I too often have,) are apt to think quite otherwise, forgetting all the while the sanction of the fifth commandment, which only of all others denounces shortness of life, and therein all temporal calamities, to those who disobey it by despising their parents. It were needless to reckon up the many dreadful examples of grievous punishments inflicted miraculously on such offenders: all histories (which in your business you often have the opportunity of reading) are full of them. But were there not this command, our interest, as you may perceive by what I have said before, would naturally oblige us to respect and obey our parents, since, without following their advice and directions, we must almost inevitably be rakes and beggars in this life, and eternally miserable in that which is to come. after our parents, if we would be masters of our trades, if we would prosper and be happy, which is the end all rational creatures propose to themselves,— I must love and obey my tutor-you, your master, being those which are to teach us those arts, which we hope, by God's blessing, will afford us a comfortable

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maintenance. This we must do, chiefly because it is a duty included in the fifth commandment; and also because, by our civil and meek deportment we may reasonably hope they, out of love and affection, will be more careful and hearty in instructing us than they otherwise would, or in justice were bound.

As I have thus laid before you, dear cousin, what I at this time think seasonable, I desire you, as you see fitting, to take the same liberty with me; and do not take ill what I have here said, which flows from a sincere desire of your welfare, and from gratitude to your good mother, from whom I acknowledge myself to have received so many favours. Let me beg of you not to contemn these lines at the first reading, but give them a second: I have endeavoured to make them plain to you, and it will be your own fault afterwards if you do not profit by them. However, if all

my poor endeavours fail, whether you think well or ill of me for this real kindness, I shall continue always to beg of God, that both you and I, and all who bear any relation to us, may increase in all goodness, but especially in loving, honouring, and obeying all who are set over us, particularly our dear parents; that so, after a long and happy life here on earth, we may be made partakers of a blessed immortality in heaven. I think I need say no more at present, since the freedom I have used with you will sufficiently assure you, that I am your true and hearty friend, as well as your affectionate cousin and humble servant,

AMBROSE BONWICKE.

This exemplary young man died at Cambridge in less than two years after the date of this letter, and before he had completed his academical course.

5. Niebuhr to a Student.

WHEN your dear mother wrote to me, that you shewed a decided inclination for philological studies, I expressed my pleasure to her at the tidings; and begged her and your father not to cross this inclination by any plans they might form for your future life. I believe I said to her, that, as philology is the introduction to all other studies, he who pursues it in his school-years with eagerness, as if it were the main business of his life, prepares himself by so doing for whatever study he may choose at the university. And besides, philology is so dear to me, that there is no other calling I would rather wish for a young man for whom I have so great an affection as for you. No pursuit is more peaceful or cheering; none gives a better security for tranquillity of heart and of conscience, by the nature of its duties, and the manner of exercising them: and how often have I lamented with sorrow that I forsook it, and entered into a more bustling life, which, perhaps, will not allow me to attain to any lasting quiet, even when old age is coming on! The office of a school-master especially is a thoroughly honourable one; and, notwithstanding all the evils which disturb its ideal beauty, truly, for a noble heart, one of the happiest ways of life. It was once the course I had chosen for myself; and it might have been better had I been allowed to follow it. I know very well, that, spoilt as I now am by the great sphere in which I have spent my active life, I should no longer be fitted for it; but for one whose welfare I have so truly at heart, I should wish that he might not be spoilt in the same manner, nor desire to quit the quietness and the secure narrow circle in which I, like you, passed my youth.

Your mother told me that you wanted to shew

me something of your writing, as a mark of your diligence; and, in order that I might perceive what progress you have already made, I begged she would bid you do so; not only that I might give you and your friends a proof of the sincere interest I take in you, but also because in philology I have a tolerably clear knowledge of the end to be aimed at, and of the paths which lead to it, as well as of those which tempt us astray: so that I can encourage any one who has had the good fortune to enter on one of the former, while I feel the fullest confidence in warning such as are in danger of losing their way, and can tell them whither they will get unless they turn back. I myself had to make my way through a thorny thicket, mostly without a guide; and, alas! at times, in opposition to the cautions given me, but too forbearingly, by those who might have been my guides. Happily-I thank God for it-I never lost sight of the end, and found the road to it again; but I should have gotten much nearer that end, and with less trouble, had the road been pointed out to me. I know it was mainly from indulgence that this was not done; and one or two persons may have disliked the trouble of explaining themselves intelligibly to a boy at a self-willed season of life. I know, too, I should not have relished any advice that did not agree with my inclinations; but had it come from a man qualified to give it, I should assuredly have taken it to heart; and great would have been its value to me now, had I received it,--even though at the time it had been bitter, and haa drawn blood.

I tell you with pleasure, and can do so with truth, that your composition is a creditable proof of your industry; and that I am very glad to see how much you have studied and learned in the six years since I last saw you. I perceive you have read much, and with attention, and a desire of knowledge. In the

first place, however, I must frankly beg you to examine your Latin, and to convince yourself that in this respect much is wanting. I will not lay a stress on certain grammatical blunders: on this point I agree entirely with my dear friend Spalding, whom such blunders in his scholars did not provoke, provided his pointing them out availed by degrees to get rid of them. A worse fault is, that you have more than once broken down in a sentence; that you employ words in an incorrect sense; that your style is turgid, and without uniformity; that you use your metaphors illogically. You do not write simply enough to express a thought unpretendingly when it stands clearly before your mind. That your style is not rich and polished is no ground for blame; for although there have been some, especially in former times, who, by a peculiarly happy management of a peculiar talent, have gained such a style at your age, yet in ordinary cases such perfection is quite unattainable. Copiousness and nicety of expression imply a maturity of intellect, which can only be the result of a progressive development. But what every one can and ought to do, is, not to aim at an appearance of more than he really understands, but to think and express himself simply and correctly. Here, therefore, take a useful rule. When you are writing a Latin essay, think what you mean to say with the utmost distinctness you are capable of, and put it into the plainest words. Study the structure of the sentences in great writers, and exercise yourself frequently in imitating some of them; translate passages so as to break up the sentences; and when you translate them back again, try to restore the sentences. In this exercise you will not need the superintendence of your teacher; do it, however, as a preparation for the practice of riper years. When you are writing, examine carefully whether your lan