liged to act as your friend, although I am afraid you have considered me as your enemy. I have written to your master, and just now received his answer; copies of which I have sent enclosed. Your master is willing again to receive you into his service, and I hope your behaviour will be corresponding to so much lenity. I am your affectionate father.

The Father's Letter to the Master.

My worthy Friend,—I have often written to you with pleasure; but, alas! I am constrained at present to address myself to you on a subject I little expected. I have just now received a letter from my son, by which I am informed, that he has left your service, through the instigation of evil company; his letter contains a penitential acknowlegement of his offence, together with a declaration of his resolution to act consistently with his duty for the future. He has begged of me to intercede with you in his behalf, and I know your humanity will excuse paternal affection. If you will again receive the unhappy youth into your family, I have great reason to hope that his conduct will be equal to his promises and it will confer a lasting obligation on an afflicted parent, and oblige,

Your sincere well-wisher.

LETTER XII.

The Master's Answer.

Sir, I have always preferred mercy to the severity of justice. However seasonable your request may appear to yourself, yet to me it was really unnecessary. I am a father, Sir, and can feel at least part of what you suffer. My resentment against the young man is less than my anxiety for his happiness: and were I sure of his adhering to an uninterrupted course of virtue, it would give me more real pleasure than any profit I might derive

from his utmost diligence and assiduity in business.

In the mean time, that nothing may be wanting on my part, to make both you and him as happy as possible, all faults are from this moment forgotten; my house is open for his reception; and if he will return, he shall be treated with the same indulgence as if he had never committed any fault.

I am, Sir, your affectionate friend.

LETTER XIII.

From a Mother in town, to her Daughter at a boardingschool in the country, recommending the practice of Virtue.

Dear Child,-Although we are separated in person, yet you are never absent from my thoughts; and it is my continual practice to recommend you to the care of that Being, whose eyes are on all his creatures, and to whom the secrets of all hearts are open; but I have been lately somewhat alarmed because your two last letters do not run in that strain of unaffected piety as formerly. What, my dear, is this owing to? does virtue appear to you unpleasant? is your beneficent Creator a hard master? or are you resolved to embark in the fashionable follies of a gay, unthinking world? Excuse me, my dear, I am a mother, and my concern for your happiness is inseparably connected with my own. Perhaps I am mistaken, and what I have considered as a fault may be only the effusions of youthful gaiety.-I shall consider it in that light, and be extremely glad, yea happy to find it so. Useful instructions are never too often in

ulcated, and therefore, give me leave again to put you in mind of that duty, the performance of which alone can make you happy, both in time and in eternity. Religion, my dear, is the dedication of the whole heart to the service of God. “Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.

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Whilst the gay unthinking part of youth are devoting the whole of their time to fashionable pleasures, how happy shall I be to hear that my child was truly religious, and yet innocently gay. Let me beg that you will spend at least one hour each day in perusing your Bible, and some of our best English writers; and don't imagine that religion is such a gloomy thing as some profligates have represented it. No! it indulges you in every rational amusement, so far as is consistent with morality; it forbids nothing but what is sinful.

Let me beg you will consider attentively what I have written, and send me an answer as soon as you can. I am your affectionate mother.

LETTER XIV.

The Answer.

My dear Mother, I am so much affected by the perusal of your really parental advice, that I can scarcely hold the pen to write an answer; but duty to the best of parents obliges me to make you easy in your mind, before I take any rest to myself. That levity so conspicuous in my former letters, is too true to be denied, nor do I desire to draw a veil over my own folly. I freely confess it; but with the greatest sincerity, I must at the same time declare, that they were written in a careless manner, without considering the character of the person to whom they were addressed. I am fully sensible of my error, and on all future occasions, shall endeavour to avoid giving the least offence. The advices you sent me in your esteemed letter were truly valuable;

I desire that they may be engraven on my heart. Let me beg to hear from you frequently, and I hope that my future conduct will convince the best of parents, that I am, what she wishes me to be,

Her dutiful daughter.

LETTER XV.

From an Officer in the Army, to his Son at a boardingschool, recommending diligence in his studies.

My dear William,—Our regiment is now at Portsmouth, and we are ordered to embark for India. I intended to have called on you at school, but our orders to march were so sudden, that I had no time to spare from the necessary duties of my station. Let me entreat you will attend with the utmost diligence to your studies. Youth is the time for acquiring knowledge, which, if properly improved and reduced to practice, will be of the utmost service to you in your future life; you are yet unacquainted with the world, and happy will it be for you, if you be fully prepared to endure its toils or meet its dangers. Let me entreat you, most earnestly, to fix upon an employment which will yield you a competence, and enable you to live independently in the world. I have left an order with our agent to pay for your education; and although my pay is small, yet nothing on my part shall be wanting to make your life as easy as possible. As it will be some days before we sail, I shall expect to have a letter from you, and if too late it will be sent after me. In the mean time, I am your affectionate father.

LETTER XVI.

The Son's Answer.

My dear Father,--I cannot tell how grieved I felt at the contents of your letter, indeed I fear lest I should never see my parent again. It shall be my constant

aim to follow your counsel, on which I see that my honour and happiness depend, and I shall always consider it as my second greatest duty, to obey the precepts of my father. I have gone already so far as to be able to read Xenophon, and next week I enter upon Homer. I have some thoughts, if agreeable to you, to take chambers in one of the inns of court, in order to study the law; my inclinations run that way, but I submit it wholly to your approbation. Let me beg to hear from you as often as possible, as it will be the greatest pleasure I can enjoy during such a separation. May Heaven watch over you, my dear father, is the prayer of Your affectionate son,

LETTER XVII.

From a Young Gentleman, clerk to a merchant in town, to his Father in the country, soliciting pocket-money. My dear Father, I wrote to you by Mr Bale, the linen-draper, but not having received any answer makes me very uneasy; although I have been as economical as possible, yet I find your monthly allowance which I receive from Mr Willis, the grocer, is not sufficient to support my necessary expenses, although it was so at first. London is such a place, that unless one maintains something of character, they are sure to be treated with contempt, and pointed at as objects of ridicule. I assure you, sir, that I abhor every species of extravagance, I am seldom seen in any public place. The small matter which I ask as an addition to your former allowance, is only to keep up a respectable appearance, which I am sure you have as much at heart as any parent possibly can. My master will satisfy you of the propriety and correctness of my conduct. I submit it to your judgment what you think proper to order me. I did not choose to mention my want of money to Mr Willis, and for this reason, have not drawn more than