Never let such a thought be entertained for a moment. Bear any unkindness, oppression, and misery, rather than do this. A youth who runs away from his place, is usually a blighted character for life. He is sunk in his own estimation, and in that of every one else. What anxiety does such a step bring on his parents if they are living, and on all his other friends! Remain then in your place: the term of apprenticeship will soon expire: it is not a captivity for life. Endeavour to sustain your ill treatment with courage and patience. Meekness may vanquish your oppressor.

But perhaps you are a clerk, and not an apprentice, and as you do not dwell in the house of your employer, you are not exposed to the same kind of discomfort and annoyance which those suffer who do. You live in private lodgings. Your perils are therefore of another kind. Instead of being now surrounded with all the dear companions of home, and delighting in that busy scene of genuine love, and tender offices, you dwell solitarily among strangers. When the business of the day is over, you go to a cheerless and silent abode. No mother's smiling countenance welcomes you to the fireside; no father's cheerful voice tells, or asks the events of the day; no brother or sister calls you by name, and blithely sports with you. Instead of this, you receive no attention but that which is bought with money. You enter your lonely room, eat your joyless meal, and in sadness think of home, and days gone by. Now there is danger here: danger of

seeking companions who may be unmeet; danger of going out to find amusement in places of vicious resort; or of adopting a course of reading that will only pollute the mind. It is impossible to overrate the peril of a young man who has lately left his father's house, and is set down in solitary lodgings in one of our large provincial towns, and especially in the metropolis. If he has not piety to preserve him, or fixed moral principle, or a love of reading and thirst for knowledge, so as to make books his companions, he is in great temptation. With all the sources of sinful pleasure open around him, and in the midst of a multitude hastening to drink their deleterious waters; with all the seductions near that appeal to every sense, every appetite, and every taste; it is more than probable that he will be drawn from his gloomy abode, to those scenes where blaze all the lights of fashion, folly, and ruin. The first scruples of conscience being subdued, the temptation being once successful, continuance and advance seem almost necessary. In addition to the dreariness of solitude, he has now the pangs of self-reproach to bear. And can he sit there night after night, to hear the accusations of that internal monitor whose indignant rebuke he has provoked, and the sentence of that severe judge whose condemnation he has procured? No. He must go again to the sounds of revelry, to drown the voice, and to the scenes of mirth to lose the sight of his awful reprover. A young man in lodgings, is thus in a situation where

nothing but decided piety, or strong moral principle, can be expected to preserve him from temptation.

5. There is another danger to which your new situation may expose you, against which you should be cautioned, and directed to exercise the greatest vigilance: and that is, the violation of the rule of honesty.

If placed in a retail shop, money will be continually passing through your hands, and much uncounted cash will be within your reach. The temptation may, perhaps, in certain circumstances arise, to appropriate a part of this to your own use. It may be, your supply of pocket money is short, and you find yourself below some of your acquaintances in the means of procuring clothes, books, or amusements. When the prospect of concealment presents itself, and the pressure of necessity is urgent, especially if aided by the hope and intention of refunding at some future time what you purloin, you are in imminent peril of the sin of embezzlement. Many, very many, have fallen into the snare, and have had their character and prospects blasted for ever. Enter life determined, by God's help, to follow whatsoever things are honest, true, lovely, and of good report. Let the fear of God, united with the love of the noble, honourable, and dignified, prevent you from ever appropriating to yourself a farthing of your employer's property. Even should you not be detected, how degraded will you feel, if you have in any instance acted the

part of a pilferer. It is a painful thing for conscience to cry" thief,” though a man may be spared the degradation of public exposure. On the other hand, how pleasant will be the recollection through life, that though exposed to many and strong temptations, your hands were pure from dishonesty. Be this your prayer, "Let integrity and uprightness preserve me," Psa. xxv. 21.

An eminent Christian minister, in relating to me the events of his early life, mentioned, with a fervid glow of delight and thankfulness, the victory which he gained in youth over a strong temptation to commit an act of dishonesty. Some circumstances, which need not here be detailed, led him to the resolution of running away from his place where he was serving an apprenticeship. On leaving the house, which he did in the morning, before the family was stirring, he had to pass through a small room in which his master usually sat. On the table lay a small heap of gold, silver, and copper, carelessly mixed together, and from which, as he was quite sure it was uncounted, a small sum abstracted by himself would not be missed. He stopped and looked at it, and as he looked he coveted. The temptation was strong. He was going out upon the wide world, with scarcely anything in his pocket. His stock of clothes was low, all he had was on his back, and in a bundle in his hand. He reasoned with himself about his scanty means, the certainty that anything he took would not be mis. sed, and the probability of his being able to refund,

in more prosperous days, what he might now appropriate in the season of his necessity; but his better thoughts prevailed, and, gathering up his remaining principle of virtuous integrity, he exclaimed, "No, I am wronging my master enough in leaving his service; I will not take his money too." And with only half-a-crown in his pocket he went out to seek his fortune in the world; but still he had the testimony of his conscience, that though a runaway, he was, as far as money was concerned, an honest youth. He assured me, that he had never ceased to reflect upon this triumph over temptation with pleasure and thankfulness. His future destiny, perhaps, hung upon that decision. Had he purloined any of the money, his conscience might have been benumbed, his heart hardened, his self-respect lost, and his future character become profligate and depraved.

Reader you may not, I trust you will not be placed exactly in the circumstances of trial this young man was; but, if disposed to avail yourself of it, an opportunity will often present itself of embezzling your employer's property, which I hope you will ever have the principle to resist. There is nothing more likely to expose you to this danger, than habits of extravagance. If you should unhappily acquire a taste for expensive dress, or amusements, or vicious gratifications, you are in peril. Dishonesty often begins in dandyism. A young man thinks he must be genteel, elegant, fashionable; he looks with envy on those whose