To the Editors of the Evangelical Magazine. GENTLEMEN, THE following letter was written by the Rev. Mr. Kinfman, to a Lady at Bristol, to whom the care of the education of his daughter was committed. If it fhould prove even the leaft check to that fad conformity to a finful world, fo exprefsly forbidden in Scripture, and now too common among the profeffors of religion, my end in fending it, and your's in publishing it, will be anfwered. THE HE confufion attending the change of your habitation, perhaps, made you forget what I told you when I first placed my daughter under your care. I fhall anfwer your's fully by juft repeating it. I then faid I did not put my daughter abroad to learn to be the fine lady, but to be the housewife, &c.; that I neither defired nor expected her ftation in life to be exalted; and that her improvement in fpelling, writing, and plain-work, next to her better part, was all we expected while she was with you; and I am fully perfuaded, this will be of greater advantage to her, in future life, than to make a fine courtesy. As for dancing, I abhor and protest against it as a Chriftian, and a preacher of the Gofpel: I fee the dreadful evils in this populous town, which that one thing is an inlet to. It is true, I read in the New Teftament of one dancing match, and that ended, as Bishop Hall faith, in fending John Baptift's body to the grave, and Herod's foul to hell. Thefe may be unwelcome things to the miftrefs of a boarding school. You But, dear Madam, you know my character in life, and I must act confiftently, as I expect to give an account. may remember, when fuch a matter was talked of, you faid, you could, without the help of fuch a master, undertake to teach my girl to behave decently, and we fhall be quite fatisfied with fuch a courtesy as Mrs. B. is capable of teaching her. Nay, I would quite excufe all fuch ceremony, if at every convenient feafon you would spend a few minutes in teaching her to bow the knee to the God and Father of our Lord Jefus Chrift; and by thus bowing the knee together, governess and fcholar, you would bid fair, however aukward you might appear before the fons of earth, to bow at last among higher company in realms of blifs. Whenever you have begun, I fhall be glad to hear from you about the best of things. The hurry of bufinefs is enfnaring. Guard against too much care. Watch and pray. BAD COMPANY. He THE very found of the expreffion, Bad Company, is painful to a prudent and pious ear. The foul of a good man trembles at the idea of being the companion of the wicked. And what is the reafon? He has many reafons for it. has reafons which relate to time, and reasons which relate to eternity. He knows fuch company to be disgraceful. The wife and good, judge of men by their company; and with them it is always accounted difreputable to be feen in the fociety of those whose character is ftained. Evil company alfo hinders religious improvements: takes off the heart from God; gradually leffens the fear of fin; imperceptibly draws men into the commiflion of iniquity; and in this way deftroys both the usefulness and the comfort of life. It has been the ruin of thoufands and tens of thoufands. By it multitudes have been led on to actions and crimes, at the bare thought of which their fouls once fhuddered. By means of evil company they have had their minds filled with fears, and their confciences overwhelmed with horror; and for one that has escaped by true faith and fincere repentance, there is reafon to fufpect many have gone down to hell. If therefore you value your credit and comfort in life, your peace in death, or your happiness in eternity, fhun evil company as deftruction; and remember, that under the idea of dangerous fociety we are to include, not only the drunkard, the profane fwearer, the unchafte, or the difhoneft; but likewife all who do not love God and obey the Gofpel of Jefus Christ. Lord keep me near thyfelf! Parlour Religion exemplified in the practice of Honorio and his Family and Friends. TH HOSE to whom the Lord has given a plenty of the good things of this world, have it in their power to anticipate fomething of the employments and enjoyments of heaven, fo far as the imperfection of the prefent ftate will permit; for they have all things richly to enjoy, they may choose their company, their time, and entertainments, and in all things follow the pious difpofition of their hearts. It is an happiness for a religious man to vifit, or to be in a house, that has a good man at its head. Such a house as that of Honorio. In the morning the parlour is decently prepared, and warmed for the reception of the pious heads of the family, who come from their chamber fmiling with gratitude to God, and good-humoured with their diligent fervants. The little family during their infancy are in the nursery, and every thing that might interrupt, is prohibited from entering the parlour, which is at this hour a chapel for devotion. The clock having ftruck the well known-hour, Honorio and his beloved wife are feated, with the book of God before them; the fervants enter with looks expreffive of the happinefs they feel in having the privilege of being God's freemen, and joining their master and mistress in his fervice. Under the direction of Honorio, a fong of praise to God for his mercies is offered up by this primitive church, and a portion of feripture is read, that their minds may become more familiarly acquained with the facred oracles. This being done, they all bow their knees to Him by whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, and the good Honorio calls upon his Lord and Master in heaven, with expreffions of profound homage and humility; bleffing him for the favours of the paft night, and the pleasure of feeing the light of the returning day. Like the great High-Priest he bears on his heart all his family before God, and intreats for particular mercies according to the known state of his household, and puts himself and all his affairs, both temporal and fpiritual, into the hands of his heavenly Father. He then gives them his benediction, and they all arife. The happy fervants cheered and warmed with the aids of devotion, return to their duty, each according to his place, and the heads of the family, with their guests (if fuch are prefent), fit down to breakfast on the overflowing bounty of God's providence. Business, or works of piety, perhaps, call the mafter away, and the mistress, having given directions in her family, takes her ufual feat and employment in her parlour. The Bible is laid near her, to be referred to as her best friend and director, her richest cordial in trouble, and moft faithful monitor in doubtful cafes. Nor is the fearful that any vifitor fhould find her with this companion, for the defires no company but thofe who love the fcriptures. She is rather of the fentiments of a well-known female, who brought her family Bible into her parlour, and laying it on the table, faid, "Lie there, thou beft of books, and keep thou thy place whoever comes in." A pious vifitor or two, or a minister of Chrift perhaps, drops in, in the forenoon. If fo, the time is not wasted in unprofitable talk, but the parlour is honoured by being changed into the fimilitude of the holy mount. The heavenly woman and her guests enter into difcourfe, as Mofes and Elias did, on what once paffed at Jerufalem, when Jefus gave his life a ranfom for many; and their experience fo confirms their interest in that work of love, that their hearts burn within them, and like St. Peter, they find it good to be there. The hour to dine being come, Honorio returns, and probably brings a religious friend or two to his hofpitable manfion. The table being spread with plenty, without oftentation, the provifion is fanctified by the prayer of Honorio, penetrated with a fenfe of having forfeited every thing by fin, but having recovered all by the merit of his great Saviour, a remembrance of whofe love makes every thing more sweet and refreshing. Having ufed, but not abufed, the bounties of Providence, grateful acknowledgments are returned to the great Giver of every good gift; and the pious few mingle profitable difcourfe with their wine, or concert some plan for fupplying the wants of those who are in diftreffing circumftances. Towards evening, a felect company grace the tea-table; and the interefts of the Gofpel, with the best means of fpreading its influence around them, become the subjects of their converfation. Should national affairs happen to be introduced, they exprefs their loyalty towards their lawful fovereign, and their thankfulness to God for the many invaluable privileges enjoyed by their country. The hour of parting being come, the praifes of God introduce the devotion of the evening, in which, as in the morning, the fcriptures are read, and all the family called to unite. Care is taken not to protract this fervice to an immoderate length, left the children, on account of their tender years, and the fervants, wearied with the labour of the day, might be inclined to fleep when their minds ought to be attentive. Nor is it hurried over as though it were of no importance; but fufficient time is taken reverently and decently to thank God for his goodness, earnestly to entreat him to pardon their fins, and to commit themselves into his care and protection. O ye worldlings! what can ye produce in the scenes of your lives that is worthy to be compared with this?" The curfe of God," fays the fcripture, is in the dwellings of the wicked." Your parlours have no bleffings in them. Your children and fervants never hear the name of God mentioned in them, unless it be to blafpheme it. Your tables are unbleffed. At your banquets, intemperance reigns, and modefty is put to the blufh. The parlours I have been defcribing are types of heaven, where due returns are made to God for his bounty. Ye are deluded by what you call rational amufements. Like children you divert yourfelves in foolish play, night after night, walling your time and fubftance. "And the God in whofe hands your breath is, and whofe are all your ways, you have not glorified." Any thing that is ferious and ufeful to your fouls, you will not once hear, much lefs will you hear it repeated. And what will ye do in the end thereof?" O that ye were wife, that ye would confider your ways, and at last make some returns of gratitude to a gracious God for all his benefits beftowed upon you! PROBUS. SINGULAR CIRCUMSTANCE. SOME years ago a young man of the city of Norwich, of about 18 years of age, was walking one morning, with a party of other young men, who had all agreed for that day to make holiday. The first object that attracted their attention was an old woman who pretended to tell fortunes. They immediately employed her to tell theirs, and that they might fully qualify her for their undertaking, firft made her thoroughly intoxicated with fpirituous liquor. The young man of whom mention was firft made, was informed among other things, that he would live to a very old age, and fee his children, grand-children, and great grand-children growing up around him. Though he had affifted in qualifying the old woman for the fraud by intoxicating her, yet he had credulity enough to be ftruck with thofe parts of her predictions which related to himself. "And fo," quoth he, when alone, "I am to live to fee children, grand-children, and great grand-children! At that age I must be a burden to the young people. What fhall I do? There is no way for an old man to render himself more agreeable to youth, than by fitting and telling them pleafant and profitable ftories. I will then, thought he, during my youth, endeavour to store my mind with all kinds of knowledge. I will fee and hear and note down every thing that is rare and wonderful, that I may fit, when incapable of other employment, and entertain my defcendants. Thus fhail my company be rendered. pleasant, and I fhall be refpected rather than neglected in old age. Let me fee, what can I acquire firft? O! here is Vol. I, Z |