Here you are, then, dear children, in a revolted, polluted, lost world, where the vast majority of the population is in open rebellion against God; where the prevailing habits and maxims are selfish, carnal, and opposed to all that is truly and spiritually good; where, if you fall in, and continue to go with the prevailing current, you are inevitably and eternally lost; where your only safety consists in renouncing the world, its idols, its master, and its hopes; in "crucifying the flesh with its affections and lusts; in resisting the fashions and allurements which reign around you; and taking refuge in that Saviour, who came to seek and to save that which was lost." Such are the temptations and perils with which you are constantly and every where surrounded; and such your only refuge. And, what greatly adds to your danger is, that if the representation which I have given be correct, your own hearts are naturally disposed to take the side of the enemy, and to betray you into his toils and his power. So that you are like persons travelling in an enemies' country, and liable every moment to be taken in some insidious and fatal snare, and whose own inclinations to yield to the enemy are among their greatest dangers. These are the humbling facts which it behoves you constantly to keep in view, and to regard as the great practical index of all your plans, resolutions, and efforts, as long as you live. And as you can never be truly wise until you learn the corruption of your own nature, and how indispensably you need pardoning mercy, sanctifying grace, and unceasing guidance and help from on high; so you are not prepared to begin your intercourse with a corrupt world, until you have learned to appreciate the real character of human nature as it appears in all the walks of social life. The young, anterior to experience--and indeed many, long after experience ought to have taught them otherwise--are too ready to put confidence in the professions and arts of men. They are apt to believe the flattering tongue; to rely on plausible promises; to trust heartless professions of attachment; to repose confidence in civilities never meant to be accepted; and to expect much from protestations of kindness, and assurances of friendship--all dictated by the merest selfishness, and never intended to be fulfilled. Rely on it, dear children, you live in a cold, selfish, heartless world. Its civilities are hollow; its promises are deceitful; its flatteries are insidious; its most splendid attractions are delusive. Expect little from the warmest professions, and be very backward to avail yourselves of the most fervent proffers of friendship. I am far, indeed, from recommending a misanthropic suspicion of every body. Your parents and grandparents ought to be the last persons in the world to indulge or recommend such a spirit. They have been so happy as to enjoy friendships sincere, disinterested, active, and unwearied, never to be forgotten.