Advice to a Young Man upon First Going to Oxford.

by Edward Berens.

LETTER I.

SENSE OF RELIGION.

MY DEAR NEPHEW,

It gives me sincere pleasure to hear that you have actually become a member of the University of Oxford. This satisfaction, perhaps, may in some degree be attributed to the pleasing recollection of my own Oxford life, but certainly it arises princ.i.p.ally from antic.i.p.ation of the substantial benefits which you, I trust, will derive from your connexion with that seat of learning. At the same time, I will own that my satisfaction is not entirely unmixed with something like apprehension.

An University education has many and great advantages, but it also is attended with many temptations;--temptations to which too many young men have yielded, sometimes to the great injury of their character, and the utter ruin of all their future prospects.

In fact, you are now entering upon the most important period--the _turning point_--of your whole life. You have become, in a great measure, your own master. For though you will be under a certain degree of discipline and _surveillance_, yet in a multiplicity of cases you will have to act for yourself--to take your own line. You will have to contend against the allurements of pleasure and dissipation, and you have just reached the age when the natural pa.s.sions and appet.i.tes become most impatient of restraint. At the same time, you will be exposed to the influence both of the example and of the solicitations of lively young men, who will try to carry you along with them in their career of thoughtlessness and folly, and who will think it strange, and _show_ you that they think it strange, if you run not with them to the same excess of riot. Against all these moral trials and temptations, your best safeguard will be found in a strong sense of religion, kept habitually present to your mind. You must endeavour, according to the language of Scripture--(and in writing to you I shall always gladly make use of the very words of Scripture, when they suit my purpose, as having a force and an authority which no other words can possess)--you must endeavour to _set the Lord always before you_. Never for a moment forget that you are continually in the presence of that awful Being, who can, and who will, call you to a strict account for all that you do amiss. Nothing can excuse your forgetting Him.

If you at all believe in a Supreme Being, the Creator and Governor of the world; if you believe that G.o.d is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him, and at the same time an avenger to execute wrath upon every soul that doeth evil, the least particle of common sense or common feeling will tell you, that nothing should be put in compet.i.tion with his will. When his will is clear, it _must_ be obeyed without hesitation. I am sure that you will a.s.sent to this. If religion is any thing, it is _every thing_. It is, indeed, the one thing needful, in comparison with which every thing else sinks into insignificance, into nothingness.

Endeavour, then, to keep up in your mind and heart this habitual sense of religion by every means in your power. It will require from you considerable care and attention. The lively spirits natural to your time of life, and the thoughtless levity of some of the young men into whose society you will be thrown, will have a tendency to make you think less of religion, if not to induce you entirely to forget it. Be ever on your guard against thus swerving from your allegiance to your Creator.

Nothing will contribute more to preserve you from this danger than regularity and earnestness in your private devotions. When you rise in the morning, seek from G.o.d spiritual strength to enable you to resist and overcome the temptations to which you may be exposed during the day.

Every night implore his forgiveness for your many failings and transgressions, and his protection against the dangers which surround you. Suffer nothing to induce you to neglect private prayer.

You will of course be required every day to attend chapel. Consider such attendance not as an irksome duty, not as a mere matter of routine and college discipline, but try to regard it as a privilege, and to take a real interest and pleasure in it. Acquire the habit of joining fervently in the prayers, and of constantly deriving from the lessons and other portions of Scripture, the doctrinal and practical instruction which they were intended to convey. Many college chapels are furnished with Greek Testaments and Septuagints. You will judge from experience, whether following the lessons in the Greek a.s.sists in fixing your attention, or whether it diverts it from the matter to the language. My own opinion is in favour of the practice.

Make a point of giving to Sunday as much of a religious character as you can. I am not recommending a Jewish strictness. Let Sunday be a day of cheerfulness; but let your reading and your thoughts, as far as may be, partake of the sacred character of the day.

The study of the Scriptures const.i.tutes an important part of your preparation for your degree. This study will furnish an appropriate employment for a considerable portion of the Sunday. Always attend the University Sermons. I recommend this not merely as a branch of academical discipline, but as a means of religious and intellectual improvement. The sermon will generally, I believe, be worth attending to. The select preachers are chosen, for the most part, from the ablest men in the University; men, several of whom are likely hereafter to fill the highest stations in the Church. You will seldom be driven to have recourse to the advice of the pious Nicole in his Essay, "_des moyens de profiter de mauvais sermons_." The various modes in which different preachers enforce or ill.u.s.trate the same great truths, and the diversities of their style and manner, may afford you matter--not of ill-natured criticism--but of useful reflection. Some colleges require their under-graduates to give every week in writing a summary of the sermon which they have heard at St. Mary's. If you adopt this practice, you will find it contribute greatly to fix your attention, and to give you a habit of arranging and expressing your ideas with facility and readiness. Of course, some preachers deserve this steadiness of attention much more than others.

It is, I trust, unnecessary to remind you of the duty of receiving the Lord's Supper, whenever it is administered in your college chapel. In some colleges, nearly all the under-graduates partake of this ordinance; in others, I believe, almost all neglect it: at least this was the case formerly. In such and similar cases, you must be guided, not by common practice, not by the example of numbers, but by what you know to be your duty. If you feel any doubt or difficulty, frankly mention it to your tutor. There are, I am persuaded, few tutors now in Oxford, who would not be able and willing to a.s.sist you with their advice.

This attention to your religious duties need not be attended by any preciseness or austerity of manner. On the contrary, I should wish you to be at all times cheerful and good humoured, ready to take part in any innocent gaiety. My object is to impress upon you the absolute necessity of always putting religion in the _first place_. If you really believe what you profess to believe, do not hesitate as to shewing it in your conduct. Never be so weak as to be ashamed of doing what you know to be your duty. Never be guilty of such unmanly cowardice as to be ashamed of avowing your allegiance to your Creator and your Redeemer.

I remain, My dear Nephew, Your affectionate Uncle.

LETTER II.

CHOICE OF FRIENDS, AND BEHAVIOUR IN SOCIETY.

MY DEAR NEPHEW,

Among the many advantages of an University, few rank higher, both in general estimation and in reality, than the opportunity which it affords of forming valuable and lasting friendships. Indeed this advantage can hardly be rated too highly. I look back to the intimacies which I contracted at college, as among the greatest blessings of a life, which has been eminently blessed in various ways. I still hold intercourse with many of my Oxford friends, whose characters and attainments do honour to the place where their education and their minds were matured.

And even the recollection of most of those, who have been removed from this lower world, is attended with a soothing melancholy, which partakes more of pleasure and thankfulness for having enjoyed their society, than of pain. _The memory of the just is blessed[14:1]._

I hope, my dear nephew, that you will improve this advantage to the utmost. In your intimacies, however, endeavour to be guided rather by judgment than by mere fancy. Sameness of pursuits, similarity of dispositions and inclinations generally contribute much to throw men together; but be careful not to attach yourself to any man as a _friend_, unless he is a man of moral worth, and of real religious principle. Intimacy with a man who is unrestrained by religion, _must_ be attended with great danger. Your own natural appet.i.tes will continually solicit you to forbidden indulgences, and will not be kept in due subjection without difficulty. If their solicitations are seconded by the example and by the conversations of an intimate a.s.sociate, your peril will be extreme. Intimacy with a man of bad principles and immoral character, may utterly blast all your prospects of happiness both in this world and the next.

You will of course have the greater power of _selection_, if your general acquaintance is pretty extensive. I acknowledge, that my opinion is rather in favour of your forming an extensive acquaintance, provided that you never suffer it to encroach upon your time, or to lead you into any compromise of religious principle. Going to the University const.i.tutes a sort of entrance into the world, an introduction to manly life; but this advantage is lost if you seclude yourself altogether from society. In order, however, to acquire or to retain such an acquaintance, your manners and general demeanour must be acceptable or popular.

One of the first requisites, in order to be thus acceptable, is the neglect, the forgetfulness of _self_--a readiness to put _self_ in the back-ground. Any obtrusion of self, any appearance of self-love, self-interest, self-conceit, or self-applause, tends to expose a man to dislike, perhaps to contempt.

One way in which this disregard, this abandonment of self, must show itself, is real unaffected humility. Most of the external forms and modes of modern politeness, its bows and obeisances, its professions of respect and service, its adulations, are nothing but an affectation of such humility, and bear witness to its value when it exists in reality.

When it does so exist, and still is free from any servility of manner, any unworthy compliances, nothing contributes more to make a man acceptable and popular in society. It inflicts no unnecessary wounds on any one's pride or self-love. And, you will observe, that it is the temper and behaviour, inculcated by the general spirit and by the particular precepts of religion, which bids us _in honour to prefer one another_; and says, _in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself_.

Another requisite is, a willingness to please and to be pleased. Some men seem to think it beneath them, and a mark of littleness of mind, to wish or to try to please any body, and wrap themselves up in a cold superciliousness. Others seem determined never to be pleased with any thing or any person, but are always finding fault. They have no eye for, no perception of, merits or beauties, either external or internal, but are keen and quick-sighted in detecting blemishes, and eloquent in exaggerating them[20:1]. If any person's good qualities, or any work of art or of genius is commended, they are sure to throw in some observations calculated to depreciate and disparage them. And with respect even to the works of Nature, and the dispensations of Providence, they are more ready to see and to point out evils, than to acknowledge advantages. This temper--this habit of disparagement--is certainly very unamiable; and justly offensive, not only to those who are run down by it as its immediate objects, but to all who witness it.

A man who consults his own comfort, or the comfort of those with whom he a.s.sociates, should be disposed to make the best of every thing. I would by no means wish him in the slightest degree to compromise truth, or to make the remotest approach to flattery; but I would have him see every thing in the most favourable point of view, and disposed to pursue and to dwell upon what is good rather than upon what is bad. Too much of that which is bad is sure to be forced upon our attention, without our taking any pains to look out for it.

Be always on your guard against hurting the feelings, or even shocking the prejudices, of those with whom you a.s.sociate. A little observation, and some attention to your own feelings in similar circ.u.mstances, will soon teach you what is likely to be annoying to others. Make every allowance for their self-love, and for attachment to their own opinions.

Never give unnecessary pain or mortification. It is _unnecessary_, when it can be avoided without compromising the consistency of your own character, or hazarding the interests of religion and of truth.

In short, my dear nephew, if you will study St. Paul's account of the nature and properties of charity, and regulate your temper and your behaviour accordingly, you will want little in order to be a perfect gentleman, in the highest sense of the word. I will not enter upon this account in detail, but must refer you to Fenelon's excellent book on this subject, if it should come in your way, or even to my own Sermon[22:1]. Give me your attention, however, for a minute or two, to a few slight remarks upon charity--merely as it bears upon our conduct in society.

_Charity suffereth long_--a?????e?--it bears patiently with other men's defects of temper, discourteousness of behaviour, and awkwardness of manner; and is _kind_, gentle, and obliging--???ste?eta?.

Charity envieth not--?? ?????. It is free from those little jealousies, and rivalries, and emulations, which, where they are admitted, sometimes give sourness to the temper, and bitterness to the behaviour.

Charity _vaunteth not itself_--?? pe?e?eta?; it is not rash or over hasty; it is not overbearing, positive, and peremptory, in language or manner; _is not puffed up_--?? f?s???ta?; is not inflated with an opinion of its own worth or consequence; and, that being the case, it doth not behave itself unseemly--??? as????e?; it does not treat other men with disdain and superciliousness.

Charity _seeketh not her own_--?? ??te? ta ?a?t??--that is, she is not _selfish_. Charity neglects not altogether her own concerns, or her own interests, but does not attend to them exclusively; does not _so_ attend to them, as to be unmindful of, or inattentive to, the interests and welfare of others.

Charity is not easily provoked--?? pa?????eta?. Nothing more disturbs the peace and comfort of society than the being easily provoked. When a man is touchy and waspish, he is always looking out for, and catching at, occasions of offence.

Charity rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; it does not take pleasure in hearing of misdoings and evil conduct, but delights in accounts of praiseworthy actions, and in the spread of sound religious principles.

Charity _beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things_; pa?ta ste?e?, pa?ta p?ste?e?, pa?ta e?p??e?, pa?ta ?p?e?e?.

I will not, my dear nephew, lengthen a long letter, by endeavouring to point out the precise meaning of these expressions. You may understand from them, that charity is patient of ill-usage; that instead of being suspicious and disposed to cavil and carp at every thing, it is open and ingenuous, ready to give men credit for speaking the truth, when there is no good reason to think otherwise; and that it is disposed to hope the best, to think as favourably as it can of those with whom it comes in contact; and if it cannot actually think well of them at present, to _hope_ for their amendment and reformation.

I think you will agree with me, that a man influenced by this spirit would be an acceptable man in society, and that the best practical Christian would be the best gentleman[26:1].

I remain, Your affectionate Uncle.

FOOTNOTES:

[14:1] Prov. x. 7.

[20:1] See Numbers 72, 74, and 98, of the Rambler.

[22:1] See Village Sermons.

[26:1] See Jones's Letters from a Tutor to his Pupils.