ttering footsteps down the pavement, the rumble of wheels
and the street cries under his window, what wonder if he felt lonely and
friendless? No footsteps stopped at _his_ door, no friendly face
lightened _his_ dull study, no cheery laughter brought music to _his_
life. What wonder, I say, if he moped and felt discontented?

What wonder if his thoughts wandered to scenes and places that
contrasted forcibly with his dead-alive occupation? What wonder if he
hankered after a "little excitement," to break the monotony of lectures,
hard reading, and stupid evenings?

"Ah," I hear you say, "there are plenty of things he might have done.
It was his own fault if he was dull in London. I would have gone to the
museums, the libraries, the concerts, the parks, the river, the picture
galleries, and other harmless and delightful places of amusement. Why,
I could not be dull in London if I tried. Tom Drift was an idiot."

My dear friend, what a pity Tom Drift had not the advantage of your
acquaintance when he was in London! But he had not. He had no friends,
as I have said, except the Newcomes, whom he only visited occasionally,
and as a matter chiefly of duty, and his anxiety to keep right at first
had led him to reject and fight shy of friendships with his fellow-
students. Doubtless it was his own fault to a large extent that he
allowed himself to get into this dull, dissatisfied condition. If he
had had a healthy mind like you, friend, it would not have happened.
But instead of utterly scouting him as an idiot, rather thank God you
have been spared all his weaknesses and all his temptations.

Was Tom never to learn that there was a way--"The Way, the Truth, and
the Life"--better than any he had yet tried, which would lead him
straight through the tangled mazes of his London life? Was he never to
discover that Friend, truer than all earthly friends, at Whose side he
might brave each trial and overcome each temptation?

Poor Tom! he walked in a way of his own? and trusted in no one better
than himself; and that was why he fell.

As I have said, he did not fall without an effort. I have known him one
day buy a bad, trashy book, and the same evening, in a fit of
repentance--for God's Spirit wonderfully strives with men--take and burn
it to ashes in his grate. But I have also known him to buy the same
book again the next day. I have known him to walk a mile out of his way
to avoid a place of temptation; and yet, be