YOU are now, Armstrong, engaged in an employment to which you have been for years looking forward as the most pleasing in your life; your ardent spirit could not bear inactivity in your Master’s service, and now your wishes are granted, and you at last experience the blessedness of sounding in the ears of a thoughtless and giddy multitude the glad tidings of reconciliation through the death of our blessed Redeemer. I need scarcely tell you that you have of late engrossed many of my thoughts, and been the subject of many of my prayers. I hope that I feel no _common_ degree of interest when I hear of any true labourer being called into the vineyard of our Lord; and shall I be less concerned when one of the dearest friends I have upon earth is called to a similar employment? You are _entitled_ to my best of wishes; you have them freely; and I have no doubt but the blessings of God will rest upon your labours, and that many in that great and dreadful day of account—many will arise from Melchbourn and Bletsoe, and declare in the ears of an assembled world, “I owe it to his care that I am here, Next to Almighty grace; his faithful hand, Regardless of the frowns he might incur, Snatched me, reluctant, from approaching flames, Ready to catch and burn unquenchable.” O my friend, when I think of these inestimable blessings as connected with the sacred office, I long to lay aside the drudgery of mathematics; but I check myself; the future should employ but little of my thoughts; how to improve the present should be my principal concern. Much is to be done here as respects my studies, and much more as to the formation of my mind, the subjugation of my tempers, and the sanctification of my heart. I would, therefore, content myself with my present situation, and endeavour to make it my chief care to prepare for death and judgment. These awful concerns have, for many weeks past, engaged my mind more steadily and frequently than for some years before. I seem to myself as a dying man amidst dying men, and it is my aim to live accordingly. I have heard you say, when you were at college, that retirement and your Bible have afforded you some of the most exalted joys you ever witnessed; these joys have been lately mine. I go up to my little room (which I have fitted up and consecrated to sacred purposes _alone_), and there I meet my God, find my Saviour precious, and experience the gracious influence of the blessed Spirit. When my hours of retirement come round, I joyfully lay aside everything in which I may be engaged; for I feel, I know, assuredly and experimentally, that I am going up to commune with the best, the most gracious and compassionate of friends. There I leave all my cares and all my sorrows, and come down again to the concerns of life with an unburdened, soberized, and tranquil mind. Blessed be God for all his benefits! I had frequently looked forward to this last year