inspire succeeding voyagers with eaution. There is a cheerfulness, compatible with the deepest seriousness-the most fervent piety; and there is a levity, in which the dignity of the minister and the sanctity of the Christian, may alike be lost. Where this is witnessed, whatever claim the individual may have upon the generosity and lenity of the spectators, he has none upon their justice-they have a right to censure, and however we may deprecate their severity,-none can deny them its exercise. And here it is perhaps that students are most exposed to danger. Fatigued and wasted by the close application and intense thought of many studious weeks, they enter, as they imagine, the circle of friendship, and instantly relax. Those who only see the effect, and are unacquainted with its cause, hastily form an unfavourable opinion of their character, and eruelly propagate the opinion they have rashly formed.* * I remember a case in point upon this subject-the mention of which may not be useless. A student from one of our academies had been spending some days with a pious and intelligent gentleman in the country, who was in the habit of having the servants of Christ beneath his hospitable roof. On his departure, the gentleman accompanied his guest some miles on his road, and in the course of conversation said "I cannot forbear expressing to you, Sir, the satisfaction which I have enjoyed in your society. I must confess that I have been too often grieved by the kevity of students, whom yet I have highly valued; but whilst you have displayed a cheerfulness which has enlivened our circle, you have preserved a uniform respect to your sacred office, which has secured the esteem and admiration of us all.". These observations are not altogether inappropriate to the subject of the following letter. No. 21. TO MR. JOHN HADDON. Hoxton College, Oct. 27, 1809. MY DEAR FRIEND, "The expressions of affection your last letter, all your letters, and the whole strain of your conduct towards me evince, greatly affect me, and you will find my feelings upon the subject in Prov. xxvii. 19. Sanctified friendship appears to me to be one of the best sweets in the cup of life. It is what the Saviour recommended by his own example, and what the best of men have experienced beneficial in every age. May this kind of friendship be exemplified in us, and may we mutually share in the affections of the heart of Him, who, "having loved his own which were in the world, loved them unto the end!" To his will in all things we must bow, and in his dispensations, however contrary to our inclination, acquiesce; but "not my will but thine be done," is language which requires a large degree of grace to use in all cases, and from the bottom of our hearts. "Many eyes are indeed upon me, and much do I fear that they will see something in me ere long that will take them from me. Your warnings are faithful, but my heart is still deceitful, and Satan may, for any thing I know, be about to sift me as wheat. You are not ignorant of his devices. Oh! theu, pray for me, that my faith fail not, so that, instead of the number of those who behold me, turna ing away from me with disgust and aversion, they may rather glorify God in me, and take knowledge of me that I have been with Jesus. The thought that affords me some degree of encouragement, is, that Jehovah knoweth my path, and that he is able to make me stand, yea to remove the suspicions of those who 'fear and wait to see.' But really I cannot help thinking that there are some people in the world who seem as if they wished for some thing to hinder one's usefulness; and who by their too significant expressions on the subject, lead me to suppose that they would rejoice in such a circumstance, and say, Oh! so would we have it.' And why? Because then their clever prophecies would be fulfilled, and we should for the future put such confidence in their forebodings as to view them as certain omens of ill events. I do hope, however, that God will in great mercy either keep me from the snares that lie in my way, or take me to himself. "I have to day written to the Kidderminster people, referring them to the Doctor, or Mr. Wilson. I will try and be with you to-morrow by 12 o'clock. Do not be disappointed if I should not be able. "I remain your's affectionately, "THOMAS SPENCER.” On Sunday the 5th of November he was appointed to preach at Cambridge, in the pulpit lately oecupied by the Rev. Robert Hall, A. M. a name dear to genius, as to religion. The day following he spent in viewing the University. In a letter dated the 3d, he says, "last night my surprise was excited by seeing that I am not appointed on the list for any place in town, but for Cambridge. I am to stay Monday over at Cambridge, to look at the colleges, &c. I shall think much of Kirke White ;" and aware of the respectability, both in wealth and talent, of the congregation he was called to address, he adds, "the Lord make me prudent and faithful; may it appear that he has some good end to answer by conducting me thither." He was exceedingly attached to the poetry of Henry Kirke White. He could repeat a great part of it, and frequently quoted it with great empha sis and feeling. "And yet," said he, in conversation with the friend to whom these letters are addressed, "there is a thirst for fame sometimes discovered which pains me. "Fifty years hence, and who will hear of Henry." "Well, suppose nobody does, and what then? If Henry has served his day and generation, and is gone to glory, neither the church nor he will be losers; and the hearing of Henry will be too small a consideration to be brought into the account." Public as Spencer's life had now become, and exposed as he was to the influence of every unholy passion which popularity might awaken, he yet maintained a close and humble walk with God. He courted solitude, and for the best of purposes. Of him it may be truly said, his fellowship was with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.' The holy and the heavenly tone his mind received in those retired hours, gave a peculiar unction to his ministry; and the knowledge which, by deep com munion with his own heart and constant intercourse with God, he had obtained, rendered his preaching remarkably profitable to believers, and gave him a skill in administering instructions adapted to all the varieties of their experience. Of this, the following is a pleasing specimen. No. 22. TO MR. JOHN HADDON. November 9, 1809. 66 MY DEAR FRIEND, "Be assured that I, as well as yourself, have walked in darkness, and complained that there was no light. Fluctuations in experience are, I am sure, my lot, whilst my only consolation in such circumstances still remain-'tis the unchangeableness of Christ. Oh! what is so calculated to reconcile our minds to the way our Father calls us to travel, as the recollection, that whilst we are found in it, Jesus is the same, and that to the end of the jour ney; and in every trying circumstance he is a present help. In darkness he will enable us to trust in the Lord, and to stay ourselves upon our God; yea, he will cheer our desponding souls with visitation sweet. Seasons in which we experience darkness of mind, and depression of soul, are necessary : they form the analogy between us and those who through tribulation are gone to heaven: they render us fit subjects for the illuminating and refreshing grace of Christ: they add a higher relish to the re |