Domestic Portraiture

by Legh Richmond, 1834

(With remarks by Edward Bickersteth)
 

The successful application of Christian principle in the education of a family, exemplified in the memoirs of three of the deceased children of the Legh Richmond.
 

TO THE READER:
If any apology is deemed needful in presenting to the public another volume connected with Mr. Richmond's name and memory, we might refer to the lively interest with which the productions of his pen have ever been received, and the frequent demand made for more of his correspondence. It must be remembered that the letters now published, were not intended to be read by anyone beyond the circle of his own family, and they are not introduced on the present occasion as specimens of extraordinary talent and composition—but with a view to exhibit the unwearied efforts of a Christian father in the education of his children, and to encourage those who are engaged in the same pursuit, to hope to the end—while they diligently persevere in the use of means. They may here contemplate another proof that God is faithful to his promise, "Train up a child in the way he should go—and when he is old he will not depart from it."

It has not been the design of the Editor to censure others, who may adopt a mode of education somewhat different; or to claim for his friend or himself, an exclusive right to dictate to the church of God. Mr. Richmond had, in some respects, his peculiarities, and men must judge for themselves as to their imitation of them. But there can be no mistake in earnestly recommending to their regard and love—his devout and heavenly spirit—his consistent and firm preference of eternal to temporal advantages, and the evident blessing of God which crowned with success his method of instructing his family. May the same Divine Blessing accompany the present humble attempt to promote the glory of God, and the spiritual good of men.
 

Note by the American Editor:
This volume may fall into the hands of two classes of people, to whom a word of exhortation may not be out of place.

1. Those who may say as they read, "This example is indeed admirable, my heart concurs in every line—but alas it is too high for me. Such results have been rare—and will continue to be rare." But have such results been less common—than such training? So far from it, we believe that in the mercy of God—they have been much more common. This unbelief, therefore, must touch the practicability of the the training, not the probability of the results. Such training has not indeed been hitherto common in Christian families; but let none give place to unbelief or discouragement on this ground. The time approaches, when such instances shall no longer be rare—but common; and the very narrative (which has passed through so many editions) has doubtless induced many blessed experiments, the full results of which will not be known until the judgment day!

2. Those who may say to themselves "Would to God, I could have seen this book at an earlier day—for never have I seen "before so clearly both the practicability and the way of training a family for Christ! But now the time is past—my children are grown, or they are gone from me, or they are beyond my influence." But even such should not say, "my hope is lost"—for prayers and means may avail while life lasts; and this volume itself be sent where the parent's voice cannot go, and be his testimony.

One great reason why so few people in the world are truly pious, and why among the truly religious so many are not happy in their religion, is this—that early religious habits are too commonly associated, not with cheerfulness—but with constraint and gloom.

Me. Richmond's first object was to make home the happiest place to his children; to render them independent of foreign alliances in their pursuits and friendships; and so to interest them in domestic enjoyments, as to preclude the feeling, too common in young people, of restlessness and longing to leave their own fire-sides, and wander abroad in search of pleasure and employment. In this attempt to satisfy his family, and engage their compliance with his wishes, he so completely succeeded, that every member of it left home with regret, even for an occasional visit, and returned to Turvey with fond anticipation—as to the place of their treasures.

To his daughter F he writes—"We are going on quietly at home. Little K—, by a sudden determination, is gone into Norfolk. My love and respect for your dear, most dear mother, has prevailed to gain my consent; otherwise I much prefer a mother's and elder sister's roof, for female education, to any school. But I leave this affair in God's hands, and hope he will overrule it for the best. I have long thought that though a good school is better than a bad home, a good home is the best of schools. Children are for the most part educated in temper and habits of all kinds, not by schools—but by companions, and here, all is contingency. But so much of my own happiness consists in making your dear mamma happy, that I wave my objection to a temporary alienation from the parental roof, and pray God it may not injure K—'s spiritual welfare. Some may think I am too fond of seeing my children around me; if it be a weakness, I must plead guilty to it—from their infancy I have looked forward, as far as providential circumstances would permit, to find comfort, support, and companionship in my children. My middle, and if spared, my old age, may much require it; and if my life be short, can anyone wonder that I should like to see and know much of them while I remain in this world. It has ever been my heart's desire and prayer, to give them a useful, happy, exemplary home—were I to fail here, life would indeed become a blank to me. I would strive "to roll the troublous trial on God," but I would deeply mourn in secret. Sons must in due season go forth into a wanton and wicked world to seek their bread; but daughters, while unmarried, are better calculated to become comforters and companions to their parents, as they go down to the valley of years.
Your affectionate father,

A happy home greatly depends on the recreations and amusements which are provided for young people. It is no small difficulty to give a useful direction to their play hours; little more has been contemplated in the romps of youth, than the health and activity of their bodies, and the refreshment of their spirits—it is well when these objects can be attained without the indulgence of sinful tempers; but youthful sports have often proved the nursery of pride, ambition, and contention. In public schools—these evils have been encouraged, or at least deemed unavoidable. The seed of revenge in manhood has been planted in boyish violence, and the unheeded acts of oppression by the elder boys towards their juniors, have trained them to tyranny in riper years. Private education affords greater facilities for checking these evils; but the lack of the stimulus supplied by numbers is apt to render the pastime uninteresting, and home distasteful.

Mr. Richmond was aware to these issues and endeavored, by a succession and variety of recreations, to employ the leisure hours to advantage. He had recourse to what was beautiful in nature or ingenious in art or science—and when abroad he collected materials to gratify the curiosity of his children. He fitted up his museum and his library, with specimens of mineralogy, instruments for experimental philosophy, and interesting curiosities from every part of the world; he had his magic lantern to exhibit phantasmagoria, and teach natural history—to display picturesque beauty, and scenes and objects far-famed in different countries; his various microscopes for examining the minutiae of plants and animals, his telescope for tracing planetary revolutions and appearances; his air-pump and other machines for illustrating and explaining the principles of pneumatics and electricity; authors of every country who treated on the improvements connected with modern science; whatever, in short, could store the mind with ideas, or interest and improve the heart. When he traveled he kept up a correspondence with his family, and narrated to them the people, places, and adventures of his progress. On his return, he enlivened many a leisure hour by larger details of all that he had observed to amuse and improve.

It was a sight truly gratifying, to witness the affectionate parent in the professor's chair, with a mind richly stored, and a countenance beaming with kindness, fixing the attention of his youthful auditors, on subjects abstruse in their character—but rendered interesting and intelligible to the happy group which surrounded him.

Music was another source of domestic amusement in which Mr. Richmond excelled, being both a good composer, and no mean performer. Many of his children played on some instrument, and occasionally joined their father in a "concert of sweet sounds." He wished to exclude what was frivolous or trifling in this noble art, and delighted in the serious full-toned harmony, as best calculated to inspire corresponding emotions.

He encouraged the use of the pencil, and was very anxious that his daughters should cultivate their taste for drawing.

'As I have journeyed along,' he writes to one of his children, 'I have often wished I had the pencil of a ready drafts-man, that I might bring home a bundle of sketches of landscapes, to revive recollections and render natural scenery permanent to the imagination. When I find that this cannot be, I next wish that one or more of my dear children might acquire a talent of this kind, and be a sort of right hand to fulfill my wishes in that way. Perhaps some day you will be that right hand to me. Loving landscape scenery as I do, my grand object to see God in it; to trace him in every part of his works—to acknowledge his goodness in them, and to collect arguments from them to endear the character of Christ, 'by whom,' the Scripture says, 'all things were made, and without whom was not anything made that was made.' To this end I wish drawing to be cultivated. I mourn over pride and vanity, and if accomplishments are only acquired to gratify these unholy affections, I should wish them banished. Nay, mere innocent pleasure is not a sufficient motive—the glory of God must be the end and aim of every attainment, or else it is a waste of time, and an abuse of talent. Pencils, paint, Indian ink, and Indian-rubber, may be devoted to the honor of him who bestows the power of combining their respective properties, so as to produce the similitudes of his works.

I am no less anxious about the cultivation of musical talents; there is, however, more danger of music being abused than drawing—the inundation of frivolity, and the sometimes unsuspected associations of a carnal and worldly nature, which mingle with musical compositions of a modern and fashionable cast, often distress and hurt me. The fascinations of the ballroom, the corruptions of the theater and opera-house, too often creep into the quiet piano-forte corner of young people. Even instrumental music, with its appendages of waltzes, dances, and love-sick airs, has often a tendency to familiarize the young mind with subjects injurious to its welfare. The sober dignity of genuine instrumental music is nearly lost in the substitution of modern trick and blandishment—but if instrumental music be thus abused, how much more so vocal music—here the art and science of music opens its richest stores of opportunity for glorifying God and edifying man—here all the charms, and all the contrivances of this sublime faculty, present innumerable means of spiritualizing the heart, gratifying the ear, exalting the understanding, and improving the affections. But here, alas! the world, the flesh, and the devil have grasped the powers of the musical art in too many instances, and sacrificed them all to Dagan and Baal, to vice and folly, to levity and wantonness, to fascination and delusion. Love songs, drinking songs, vice-provoking songs, and many other sorts of songs, resound from house to house in public and private, and prove to demonstration, the idols which men and even women serve, and consequently "whose they are." What a profanation of a holy art! What a degradation of a noble science!

I am persuaded that music is designed to prepare for heaven; to educate for the choral enjoyment of paradise; to form the mind to virtue and devotion, and to charm away evil, and sanctify the heart to God. A Christian musician is one who has a harp in his affections, which he daily tunes to the notes of the angelic host, and with which he makes melody in his heart to the Lord. Does he strike the chord with his hands? it is to bid lute and harp to awake to the glory of God. The hand, the tongue, and the ear, form a kind of triple chord, not to be broken.

Bring music, my beloved child, to this test, and your vocal hours will not be spent in vain. The instructions of your childhood will supply you through life, with a fountain of pleasures, drawn from the true source of legitimate recreation. Sing the songs of Zion, and amidst the vibrations of the air, may true prayer and praise ascend to heaven, and enter into the ears of the Lord God of your salvation; and then will the harmonious combination be complete.

Pray for grace to guide you in all your duties, that you may comfort, assist, and strengthen your priceless mother in all her cares and labors, by your dutiful, diligent, and affectionate regard to her precepts, example, and wishes. May your brothers in particular learn from you, and you from Christ—what Christian meekness, activity, and soberness mean. Watch over them with a sister's heart and a sister's prayers—and they will be heard and answered. Go to school again and again. Where? To what school, papa? To the school of Christ, where the Great Instructor waits to teach and bless you. Go there, my child, and carry your sins, and your cares, and your weaknesses and your errors, and your affections and your hopes, and your fears and your resolutions, and your friends, and your brothers, and your sisters, and your mother, and your own true loving father,
Legh Richmond."
 

AMUSEMENTS

'A man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds, therefore let him seasonably water the one and destroy the other.' Bacon.

With so many resources of innocent and improving amusement, Mr. Richmond's children felt no regret at the prohibition which their father placed on all games of chance; on fishing, hunting, dancing; the theater, oratorios, and other sources of gratification, which he thought to be inconsistent with the spirit of religion; connected with much evil; and a preparation for it. I have heard him say, 'Even where there is no positive evil, I think it important to draw a strong line of demarcation between the church and the world. The mixed multitude set the Israelites a lusting after the flesh-pots of Egypt—and evil communications never fail to corrupt good manners.

There may be no sin in dancing—but it is a preparation for appearing hereafter where I think there is scarcely anything else but sin.

Cards are a waste of time which may be much better employed; and they are too nearly allied to the gaming-table, which fills me with horror.

To hunting I have a still more decided objection—they are defended on the ground of promoting health; but whatever benefit the body may receive, it is at the expense of the soul. I know not on what principles a man can justify the taking away of life for his amusement. God allows him to kill animals for food, or to destroy them when they prove an annoyance to him; but I can find no authority in the Bible for deriving enjoyment from the infliction of a cruel death; it is right founded on might—a mere act of tyranny, and an abuse of power. The man who would whip a horse to death, or cut him up alive like an savage, would be deemed a monster; yet the same man may hunt to death, and exult with delight, while his dogs are tearing to pieces a defenseless animal, and yet be considered a gentleman and a Christian. Then there are the after events of the day!—and surely to spend five or six hours in the evening commending the bark of a cur, or discanting on the endeavors of a fox to elude his pursuers, is unworthy an intelligent being, even if there were no worse accompaniments.

I asked him if he thought shooting equally objectionable. He replied—shooting may not issue in all the results of hunting; but I would be miserable all the while my boys were scampering over the fields with a gun. Sad accidents are continually occurring from letting young people carry fire-arms; but my great objection to all these sports is the same; I cannot think it right to seek gratification in inflicting suffering and death. I know that God has given us the creatures for our sustenance, and it is lawful to use them to this end; but with my views and principles, I find it hard to conceive a right-minded man feeling pleasure while he inflicts pain. He would rather be disposed to say with an old writer, 'I can never eat my dinner when I remember that I am living by the death of a creature which my sin has destroyed.' As for exercise, we might surely find other pursuits for this purpose.

There appears to me the same delusion in the argument which has sometimes been employed to defend shooting, as in that which is urged by card-players—we must have a stake, however small, or we shall lose all interest in the game. Surely we might walk as far and as long as we pleased for exercise, without a gun. Pascal explains the whole matter, when he says, 'A man is not running after the game—but trying to run away from himself.'

The race-track presents such a scene of folly and knavery, that it does not deserve a serious argument.

The theater abounds with everything which is offensive to the mind of a Christian. What do you think of the celebrated actor, who forbade her daughter to connect herself with the theater? Surely this speaks volumes.

Fishing is generally deemed a harmless amusement—but I cannot allow it to be a fit recreation for a Christian. What are we to think of impaling a worm, and being highly delighted while the poor creature suffers exquisite torture for our sport! If we use an artificial bait—yet is time, the precious hours of life, so valueless that we can afford to throw away half or a whole day in this trifling?

"What is your opinion of oratorios?" "My fondness," he replied, "for music may be supposed to make me a partial judge in this case. I see no objection to a concert, when the music is properly selected—yet I am jealous of this sort of amusement, and would think it necessary to be very cautious in encouraging a taste for public exhibition of any kind. We never attend oratorios in a church. I consider it a desecration of the house of God to use it for any other purpose but that of religion; it shocks me to hear clapping and noisy expression of pleasure, when a passage of Scripture and the name of God is made a vehicle for mere amusement. It is absurd to talk of devotional feelings on such occasions.

As to all these things, I think that God has given us immortal souls to prepare for heaven. People may cry, What great harm in this or in that? They may have a plausible pretext for doing what I condemn; for there is nothing, however absurd or wicked, which will lack an advocate or an argument to support it.

I lay down this general rule for all occupations. Whatever has a tendency to fit my children for heaven, I approve; but I must keep aloof from everything which is likely to be a snare or a temptation to them, or to indispose their minds to a serious and steady pursuit of this one great object.

Did you ever hear of a minister on the race-course or in a theater? Would he not disgrace himself, even in the eyes of the world, by being present at such places? Why so? Because it would be out of character. The universal suffrage denounces these amusements as inconsistent with a heavenly mind, and with the sacred office of a spiritual guide. Surely this is the strongest censure on the amusements themselves—it is, in fact, saying, the more heavenly the man, the more unsuitable are such things to his character.

I have often thought that a Christian by profession, who allowed himself in the indulgence of such things as have furnished the subject of our conversation, must be at a loss how to describe the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, which he has renounced at his baptism."

These remarks may excite a smile, as childish scrupulosities; or a sneer, as mere fanaticism; but hard names are bad substitutes for solid arguments. It will not be easy to satisfy a sober, reflecting mind, that Mr. Richmond's judgment was either weak or superstitious.

Before we leave the subject of amusement, I shall advert to another kind of recreation, which Mr. Richmond provided for his children—the celebration of birthdays. On his own birthday he attended divine service, when he preached a sermon to his congregation, and endeavored to improve the lapse of time by acts of prayer and praise. The summons was cheerfully obeyed, and the parish bells rang merrily. Great numbers attended church, to worship God, and congratulate their pastor on the occasion. In the course of the day he always wrote to his mother, while she was alive, and affectionately reminded her and himself of their endeared connection. On the day following, he invited a party of his parishioners to dine at the rectory. This birth day entertainment was looked forward to by them with great interest, and was made an occasion of courteous hospitality. The company was of a mixed character, and was received by Mr. Richmond with a kindness and attention to their innocent recreation, which never failed to gratify his guests. The evening was spent in music, and his family formed a little band of performers in full concert.

The birth-days of his children were kept with no less reference to religion, though in a more private manner. He commended them to God for his blessing and favor. He wrote each of them a letter of congratulation, usually accompanied by a present of some useful kind. The day was spent in innocent festivity, and the evening was employed in the museum. These seasons were anticipated by the children with much delight, and their recurrence contributed, in a great degree, to promote the harmony of the family, by a reciprocity of affectionate interest among its members.

I shall here transcribe a letter or two, as specimens of Mr. Richmond's birth-day correspondence. The birthday was kept as usual, even when the child was absent—and whether absent or present, a letter of congratulation was written on the occasion.

"Let not my little loved K suppose that her father forgets her. Yaxham may seem a long distance from Turvey; Glasgow is a much greater—but in neither place can my heart forget my child. I remember you a little babe in my arms. I loved you then. I remember you lying in your little cot, and I swung you there, and loved you all the while.

"I recollect your first attempts to walk, and your many consequent little downfalls. I raised you up from your stumblings and your tumblings; I dried your tears, and loved you still more. I have not forgotten your endeavors to talk, nor your pleasant little prattlings; nor your first calling me papa, and dearly I loved you for it—and although these things have long since passed away, and time has added to your years, my love for my K is not diminished. I often see you in imagination, and draw fanciful pictures of your occupations in your new dwelling; but what is my love compared with that of your heavenly Father. What is the strongest earthly affection, when contrasted with that which said, 'Let the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.'

Has my child's heart an earnestness, a real sincere earnestness, to share in the love of such a Father, and to come when so mercifully called, to such a Savior? By nature "foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child, " nevertheless by grace a young child's heart may become the temple of the Holy Spirit, and the residence of God himself! Think of little Jane, the Young Cottager. May you resemble her in whatever she resembled Christ. She was a dear little girl, and I wish there were thousands more like her. Many have been made sensible of their sinful state while reading that story, and, through the blessing of God, have been brought to love the same Redeemer, and have lived and died rejoicing in their Savior. I hope, my child, you pray not only with your lips—but with your heart.

While you are actively and dutifully employed in acquiring useful knowledge, "be fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." In a little time you will be in your teens, and the very sound of that word should awaken you not to the usual folly and vanity of this period of life—but to the responsibility of growing years and increasing privileges—to the cultivation of holy learning and Christian habits—to the love of Jesus; and communion with his Spirit; It is my prayer, let it be yours. And now, farewell, my dear daughter. May you realize every fond hope, temporal, spiritual, and eternal, of
Your affectionate Father,

The following letter was written the year after, and on a similar occasion:
"Accept a birthday blessing from your affectionate father, my dearest K—a father who loves you with all his heart and soul. This day thirteen years brought you into a world of sins, sorrows, mercies, hopes, and fears—surely it is a day much to be remembered; not so much by feastings and twelfth-cakes, as by prayers and supplications to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, that he would grant you grace to put away the follies of childhood, and to enter upon what is commonly called your 'teens,' with a clean heart and a right spirit. May my dear child be a vessel of mercy, filled with all the blessings of the Spirit of God, and fitted for a happy eternity. May the love of Jesus warm your heart with every affection which can adorn the Christian name and character. May your early attainments, at this period of a diligent childhood, prepare you to be the comfort and prop of your parents in their advancing years, if life be spared to them. Be conscientious in all you do. Idleness and inattention to instruction always prove that something is very wrong in principle. Diligence in the improvement of your mind, is a tribute of obedience both to God and your parents. I rejoice to hear from your kind governess that you improve in this respect. I trust, my dear child, we shall never receive any intimation of your failure in so important a matter. If you love those at home, (and I am persuaded you do love them tenderly,) ever strive to make them happy and easy on your account. I need not tell you that everyone round our fire-side unites with me in the congratulations of this day. There is but one heart among us. M and H mention your birthday in their letters.

Our family circle is reduced when three daughters are absent—but love, memory, and imagination often bring them all together, and half fill the vacant chairs which they used to occupy. Your brother Nugent has been mercifully preserved from an awful shipwreck in India; the vessel was totally lost—but all the lives saved, and he has got a station in another ship. 'They that go down to the sea in ships—that do business in great waters—these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.' (Psalm 107) And now, my K, with a repetition of every wish, prayer, and blessing, believe me,
Your affectionate Father,

"Perhaps my dear little C thought she was too young to receive a letter; but you see I have not forgotten you, nor L either, for whom you may tear off the other half of this sheet, and if he cannot read it himself, someone will read it to him. I wish very much to know how you are behaving since I saw you—what character will your pen and your needle give of you when I ask them? and what will your book say? Your playthings, perhaps, will whisper that you have been very fond of them; well, a little fond of them you may be—but you must not think only of them, my little nursery queen. There are better things than playthings in the world—there are mammas and mamma's commandments; and papas, and papa's wishes; and sisters, and sister's instructions; and there is the Bible, and the God of the Bible, and Jesus Christ and his salvation. My little girl must think of these things, and be an example to her young brothers, in order, obedience, and good manners, etc.

"You are now at that age when Jesus 'increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.' Meditate on this. I am glad to think you are acquiring knowledge; but ever keep in mind, that all other knowledge is valuable or not, just as far as it is united to spiritual knowledge. The Word of God and its blessings form the highest study of man. "May my children grow in such knowledge. Farewell, my child; try in everything to please, your dear papa,

"I cannot let a parcel go to Yaxham without telling my dear Wilberforce how much her father loves her. This is a day of grateful recollections, and hopeful anticipations. God bless my child. May she grow in grace with increasing years—may she be diligent in her studies, obedient in disposition, devotionally fervent in spirit, and unwearied in well-doing!

My anxieties have been great since I saw you. My heart has so clung to my dear boy, that every tender feeling and affection has been exercised in the separation from my beloved Wilberforce; but the loss has not diminished but increased my love to the endeared children whom God still spares to me. I cannot say one-thousandth part of what I would on this subject—but my heart prays that you may all grow in the knowledge of Him with whom his soul now lives in blessedness. I hope much good has arisen to your brothers and sisters at home, from the sanctified effects of this heavy trial.

May my C feel it likewise, and so experience the power of real religion in her heart, that it may appear in her life and conversation, I am very concerned on this subject. A great work of gracious awakening has taken place in the village, in connection with Wilberforce's happy end. Many careless souls are surprisingly changed. This is a mercy—an unspeakable mercy to me as their minister. Oh! I want all my children to share abundantly in these views of heavenly grace. I earnestly covet for them these best gifts. Others will have told you by this parcel how much they love you. This letter can but very feebly say how dear you are, in the love of a Savior.
Your affectionate father,

"My much-loved boy Legh,
You expressed some disappointment at dinner, because you had not received your dear mamma's promised letter on your birthday. What has been the cause of the failure I know not—but I will try to compensate for the disappointment by giving you a few lines. The return of a birthday, when rightly viewed, is a subject for very serious meditation—I wish it may prove so to you. We have seen, in the death of your dear brother, how little health and strength are to be trusted. Childhood, and youth, and time, are swiftly passing onward, and our journey through this valley of tears, whether longer or shorter, will soon be over. Can you too early learn the value and importance of time? Will you not hear the counsel of a father, and meditate on those things which belong to your everlasting peace? You have an immortal soul—to be lost or saved forever. You have an understanding, to distinguish between good and evil. You are therefore a responsible being, who must render an account of the deeds done in the body, whether they be good or whether they be evil.

Childhood is the period when the character and habits of the future man are formed. Trifle not, therefore, with your childish days. Set a firm and valuable example to your younger brother—he will more or less imitate your ways and dispositions, be they better or worse. Remember! the eye of God is upon you in every place. Be where you will, you may always say, with Hagar in the wilderness, "You O God, see me." I have of late known but little, too little, of your state of mind, and your views of things temporal and spiritual. I have had occasional uneasiness on this subject. You ought ever to be putting forth the energies of your mind in every proper and possible way. It is time that your attention should be drawn to your future station in life, whatever Providence may design it to be. Every day and every hour should bear witness to some progress and improvement in useful learning; and above all, in that knowledge which makes wise unto salvation.

You have on all subjects, much to learn, and it will not be acquired without much labor, and firm determination of mind and talent to the acquirement. What may be the inclination of your own mind as to business, profession, or occupation, I know not—but I wish you most seriously to take this subject into deliberate consideration, and let me in due time know the result, that I may give you counsel and advice. In the mean time, a thirst for useful knowledge, and a laborious attention to its attainment, will best evidence your fitness for that state of life unto which it may please God to call you.

But you can do nothing well without faith and prayer—without much anxious reading of the Holy Scriptures. This reminds me of your dear brother Wilberforce. He left upon record among you all, his testimony to the value and necessity of reading the Word of God; and it is my heart's desire and prayer, that all my loved children may follow his example and his dying exhortations.

The season of the year is fast advancing which brings all the affections and solemnities of his latter end to view. Every day of the approaching two weeks brings to remembrance the various events of his last days. They are all indelibly fastened on my heart's memory; they live, glow, and burn there with a vividness of impression, of which none can be aware, and form a daily part of my very self. But I refer to them now for my dear Legh's sake. I have lost my two eldest boys, and I am deeply solicitous that those who remain to me should be devoted to God; and, if spared, become the prop and solace of my advancing years.

It is indeed time, my Legh, that you should feel the importance of such considerations. You were named Serle, after one of the most holy and excellent men with whom I ever was acquainted. Mere Christian names can confer no grace; but I may be permitted to wish, and hope, and pray, that you may, by divine grace, resemble him, and follow him as he followed Christ. "The Christian Remembrancer," "The Christian Parent," and many other admirable books, bear testimony of his piety and talents, "He being dead—yet speaks." And now my child, may every blessing attend you, for this world and the next, for time and for eternity. May the return of this birthday remind you of many an important duty and principle. Look into the real state of your heart, and never be afraid or ashamed to make me acquainted with it. "The end of all things is at hand, be therefore sober, and watch unto prayer." The heart that now loves and watches over you on earth, may before long, and must in time, become cold in the grave—but seek him who never dies, and his love which never decays, and all shall be well with you, here and hereafter. So counsels and prays
Your affectionate Father,

I have mentioned Mr. Richmond's correspondence with his mother on his own birthday. After her decease he wrote the following letter to his eldest daughter, who was married to an excellent and valuable minister of the established church of Scotland:

"My very dear daughter,
In many a past year I wrote to my dear and venerated mother on my birthday. She is gone to her eternal rest, and I can only communicate with her in grateful recollection and hopeful anticipation. To whom can I now address myself with more propriety and love on such an occasion, than to my absent, distant—but much-loved child.

My child, so mercifully restored to health, after so severe an illness and so much danger, my thoughts and prayers have been unceasing respecting you. I have endeavored patiently to wait upon the Lord, and he has heard my prayer. I have viewed this trying dispensation as sent of God for some great and good purpose to your own and to all our souls; and I trust we shall find it so. You will have to learn to glorify God in the fires, and magnify the God of your salvation; to see the precarious tenure of human life, and to devote your restored powers of mind and body to him from whom you have received both.

Oh, my dear M, what a God he is, and what a redemption he has wrought for sinners! See, in your own recent trial an emblem of Christ's love; yourself a brand plucked from the burning—saved—yet so as by fire—raised from weakness to strength, tempest-tossed and afflicted—yet preserved—cast down—but not destroyed. It is the heart's desire and prayer to God of your father, on his birthday, that all these things may work together for your good, temporal and spiritual. It is a day which I always contemplate with much tender

affection, and my thoughts are such as I cannot utter. Life, death, and eternity, spread a vision before me—and I meditate with solemnity and deep humiliation. I have lived now more than half a century. On the past I look with much repentance for my sins, and much gratitude for my mercies. Of the future I know nothing, except that my times are in God's hand, and that is enough. But my responsibilities make me often tremble. They rise like mountains before me—but I lift up my eyes to the hills from whence comes my help, and the mountains of difficulty become plains, and the rough places smooth. Among my mercies I feel peculiarly thankful for the union of my dear child with such a man and such a minister as Mr. M . This doubly endears Scotland to my heart. I have formed many valuable friendships, and received many kind favors from its inhabitants. I have delighted in its scenery, and tasted many excellent fruits of its piety—but to have a daughter placed in the midst of Scotland's hills and plains renders the land peculiarly interesting to me.

May every day add to your strength and comfort. May you and I, not only as parent and child—but as fellow-pilgrims on the road to Zion, walk lovingly, congenially, and safely, to the end of our journey. I hope, if God spares me, to see you in the spring—but whether here or there, I am ever,
Your affectionate father,

From the amusement of leisure hours, and the returns of the birthday memorials, I pass on to notice my friend's care and extreme concern to keep his young people from dangerous associates. To choose suitable companions is not less difficult to a Christian parent than to provide useful recreations for them. The peculiar talents of Mr. Richmond enabled him to supply abundant materials for the employment of leisure hours; and his strong affection for his children rendered that a pleasure, which to many would have been an irksome duty. He made himself not only a profitable but a suitable and interesting companion to them.

They felt no discontent at the strict exclusion of other intimacies; to which there was but one exception, in the son of a gentleman in his parish, who studied under the same tutor, and who was ever admitted with affectionate esteem and confidence into his family circle. Probably Mr. Richmond's marked anxiety on this point may be traced, in part, to the unhappy career of his eldest son; on whom he had witnessed the effect of bad influence in a corrupt associate. So inflexibly did he adhere to his rule, that he allowed no fellowship whatever with other families, except under his own watchful eye and diligent superintendence. He even declined invitations from personal relatives whom he dearly loved, and with whom he himself kept up a friendly correspondence. It was his fixed resolve to sacrifice all considerations of interest, and even courtesy, although he might thereby expose himself to censure and misapprehension—rather than expose his children to an influence which he feared might be injurious to them. And even when some of them were nearly grown up, he exercised the same vigilance, and regarded with suspicion every circumstance from which he apprehended possible injury.

He used to say, "My dear friends and relations are amiable and highly respectable. I have great reason to be grateful for their kind intentions and good offices; but I cannot tell what my children may meet with in a style of life so different from mine. One fatal hour may undo years of instruction, and give me endless perplexity. I have suffered enough from sending a child from home."

His sentiments on this subject are expressed in the following letter to Mrs. Richmond; who had asked his advice before she consented to allow one of his daughters to accompany a lady of great respectability and undoubted piety, into Devon, to spend the winter there. It was not improper that Mrs. Richmond should wish her children to see something of the world and be gradually accustomed to act for themselves; and the character of the protector and companion was a sufficient guarantee against evil contact. Our friend was at that time in Scotland, from whence he replied to his wife:

"My dear love,
I have ever had strong—very strong objections to allowing my children to visit anywhere without one of their parents; and through life I have seen and lamented endless evils arising from the lack of superintendence, and the absence of those who are most concerned in guarding against the mischief of association with other families. As a general rule, therefore, I have always objected to it, from conscientious motives. Yet there may be exceptions, and I readily admit that the case in question may be one of them. I wish to make home the grand center of attraction, affection, and comfort. You know from this year's experience how ready I am to give our girls the advantage of seeing life—but I cannot think that the withdrawing the parent's eye would increase the advantages of a journey. Never is that eye and ear so necessary as at such an age. I would infinitely rather undertake the responsibility attached to those possible and contingent evils, which might occur under the vigilant and tender superintendence of parents, than of those which might arise from the connections and habits formed when that restraint is withdrawn. I perfectly accord with you in wishing our dear children to gain advantages from associating with our various Christian friends, and am acting daily on your own ideas. But I see more and more daily, how exceedingly desirable my own presence is, and that continually. But when the will of God is expressed in regard to health, etc. and the path of duty is thereby clearly pointed out to me, you must not suppose me to be either indifferent or positive. At the same time I see mountains of difficulty in deciding, amidst numerous requests—which to accept, and which to refuse.

I approve your plan for Wilberforce—I do not oppose your wishes for Mary—I only pause—but I much admire your sentiments, and taking both body and mind into consideration, hope it may be the will of God.

Farewell, dear love. Nourish a contented spirit—do not mistrust God—let not your soul be disquieted within you—look kindly on providences, and hopefully on events, and ever regard me as
Your faithful Legh.
 

Some of Mr. Richmond's best friends have disapproved the degree of restraint which he judged it right to impose on his children. They have blamed him for prohibiting the usual freedom of fellowship with families whose conduct and principles he approved. It is possible that his feelings were morbidly acute on occasions; and his extreme anxiety for the spiritual welfare of his family often proved injurious to himself; for he sometimes passed a sleepless night, in expectation of an ordinary visit on the morrow. Such was his vigilance, that if a friend introduced his son under circumstances of common courtesy, he appeared restless and uneasy if the young people were left together without superintendence, even for a few moments. Other people might also have taken advantage of an extensive popularity to benefit their families—but he never could be prevailed on, to bringing them forward to notice, to advance their temporal welfare.

Whatever may be thought of my friend's judgment, it is impossible not to respect, admire, and love the holy integrity, the perfect simplicity and oneness of object in the man of God; and I cannot doubt that his purity of motive has been recorded in heaven, and will be owned on earth after many days. Whatever worldly advantages, supposed or real, may have been lost to his family from the steady application of religious principle, however pushed to an extreme, an abundant compensation will be made by that Being whose blessing invariably attends a faithful adherence to the dictates of conscience, and who has promised, "Him that honors me—I will honor."

"My dear daughter,
We have had a very prosperous journey thus far. I am passing a few comfortable days at this place. But, alas! this is a town in which true religion is little known. The inhabitants of all ranks think of nothing but folly, vanity, and extravagance. Their evenings are spent in the unprofitable entertainments of the card-table, the ensnaring amusements of dancing, or the delusions and temptations of the playhouse. Their mornings are spent in idle gossippings and wasting of time. When I see these things, I feel satisfied that I have kept my dear children from such scenes, and such companions. Oh! how lamentable to contemplate a great town full of inhabitants—gentry, clergy, manufacturers, tradesmen, etc.—living almost without God in the world; error preached from the pulpits; no care for the souls of the people; no family prayer in the houses; no zeal for religion, unless, perhaps it be now and then excited to abuse and ridicule all those who have any real love for God and their souls.

May my dear child be preserved from the defilements of a vain, dangerous, and destroying world. You know not, and I wish you never may know, its snares and corruptions!

I was greatly affected in conversing with a family, upon the marriage of their daughter, under the following circumstances—The father was an exemplary clergyman, the mother a most pious woman—they had brought up a family with strict attention to religious precepts and principles, and they were not without hope that their daughter had some piety.

A young man of wealth—but of no decided religious principle, became acquainted with her. Inattentive to the affectionate duties which she owed to her excellent parents, their feelings, and their advice, she allowed her mind to be led away into an attachment towards this young man. The parents were aware that his general habits and views would be uncongenial to their wishes for a daughter's spiritual welfare, and therefore objected. However, the daughter so far obtained her wishes, that a very reluctant consent was given to the marriage. The daughter, gradually led away into worldly company and amusements, has given up even the outward profession of religion, and now lives as the world lives. Yet she is not happy; and her parents are very unhappy. The daughter cannot help remembering the example, the exhortations, the prayers, the solicitudes, and the tears of her parents; but it is only with remorse, which she strives to drown in worldly company and carnal amusements. They wept over the case with me, which presents a proof of the sad consequences of young people giving way to hasty impressions, and yielding to connections not founded on a regard to the honor of God, gratitude to parents, and consistency with a pious profession. How needful is it that Christian parents, and Christian children, should be firm and conscientious in the important duty—of encouraging connections for life only on Christian principles! What distress to families, and what decays of hopeful character, have resulted from a deficiency on this point!

Let me warn my dear daughter, against that unbecoming levity, with which many young people treat these subjects. Evil communications corrupt good manners, very especially in this matter. The love of Christ is the only safe ground of all motives, and of all conduct. Where this is established, all is well. The life-blood of Christianity then circulates through every vein of the soul; and health, strength, and purity of mind is the happy result. Fall down upon your knees before God, my dear, praying that he would pour that love into your heart, until it becomes a constraining principle for the government of your thoughts and actions. This is the only remedy for all the diseases of the soul.

Beware of pride and self-conceit; of fretful tempers and discontent. Learn to quell impatience and obstinacy. Let your first—your very first delight be, in serving God by serving your parents. Reckon not on youth, or long life. Devote yourself to active usefulness in the family, and in the parish. Show forth the principles in which you have been educated, by a practical exhibition of them in your conduct. But who is sufficient unto these things? Christ! Without him you can do nothing—no, not so much as think a good thought. But you can do all things through Christ strengthening you. He is the sufficiency of all his people. By faith in him you obtain power to perform duty. "By grace are you saved, and that not of yourselves; not of works, lest anyone should boast." Could works save us, we might boast, and heaven would be full of boasters. But, no, no, no! The song of the saints is, "Not unto us, not unto us; but unto your name be all the glory!"
Your affectionate father,

We add some parental admonitions, and a series of important remarks, for the regulation of female conduct.

I leave you, in much love, a few fatherly hints.

1. Be constant in private prayer.

2. Be wise in the choice of books; shun everything of the romance and novel kind! And even in poetry, keep to what is useful and instructive.

3. In company, show that the principles of your father's house and ministry are your rule of conduct, and your real delight. Be consistent —cheerful—but not light; conversational—but not trifling.

4. Keep ever in view, that you are supporting my character and credit, as well as your own.

5. Show a marked preference to such conversation, remarks, people, discussions, and occupations as may tend to spiritual good.

6. Always think before you speak; say and do neither hastily nor unadvisedly.

7. If any proposal is ever made to you, in which you hesitate how to act, first say to yourself—How would God have me to act? Secondly—What would my parents have me to do, if they were here to advise me?

8. Never lose sight of this—that the more public my name, character, and ministry become, the more eyes and ears are turned to my children's conduct—they are expected, in knowledge and circumspection, in religion and morals, in opinions and habits, to show where they have been educated; and to adorn, not only their own Christian profession—but their parent's principles.

9. In music, prefer serious to light compositions; and in vocal, keep close to sacred Words.

10. Pray much for your affectionate father,

P. S.—I send you the following applications of my sermon on Ephesians 5:15, 16, "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil."

On circumspection of walk, redemption of time, and general sincerity of character:

1. Adhere most scrupulously to Scriptural truth; and labor to preserve the strictest integrity, simplicity, and sincerity.

2. Engage in no pursuit in which you cannot look up unto God, and say, 'Bless me in this, my Father!'

3. Strive to be as kind, forbearing, and forgiving as you can, both to friends and foes.

4. Never speak evil of anyone.

5. Strive to recommend true religion by the courtesy, civility, and humble character of your conduct.

6. Watch against irritation, pride, unkind speaking, and anger—study and promote love.

7. Mortify all lusts, sensuality and sloth.

8. Never speak well of yourself. Keep down pride; let it not be indulged for a moment—but watch against it.

9. Shut out evil imaginations and angry thoughts.

10. Let it be your sole business here to prepare for eternity. Consider every moment of time in that view.

11. Remember that you have to contend with a legion of devils; a heart full of deceit and iniquity; and a world at enmity with God.

12. Pray that you may ever rejoice in the advancement of Christ's kingdom; and the salvation of sinners; and labor in every way to promote these objects.

13. Prayer is the only weapon which can subdue your corruptions, and keep you in close fellowship with God. Cultivate prayer.

 

We add another of these edifying testimonies of paternal solicitude and love.

To my daughters,
With a heart full of affection, I sit down to express a few sentiments and intimations of my wishes, as connected with your conduct, in the course of any journey or absence from home. I wish each of you to preserve a copy of it, my dear children, and often look at it; take it with you when from home, and keep it safe when at home.

Independently of my concerned wishes for your secret spiritual welfare, I have much to feel on my own account, in point of credit and character, as connected with your deportment, in every house and company into which I may introduce you. I have not a doubt of your general affectionate wish to speak and act rightly; but inexperience, youth, thoughtlessness, and lack of more acquaintance with the carnal world, and the religious world—may easily occasion inconsistencies and errors, which might be injurious to your own, as well as to my comfort and credit. Accept, therefore, a father's blessings and prayers, with a father's chapter of admonitions and explanations.

You are aware that my name and character have acquired much publicity— that I avowedly belong to a class of Christian ministers who profess, for Christ's and their soul's sakes—to live separate from the world; to maintain purer and more distinct views of the Scripture doctrine; and to be willing to spend and be spent in behalf of the truth, as it is in Jesus. I am, therefore, supposed not only to maintain a consistent separation from the follies and vices of the world, its pomps and vanities—but also to aim at so ruling and guiding my household, that my principles may shine forth in their conduct. Any lack of correctness, consistency, faithfulness, and propriety in my children, will always excite a mixture of censure, surprise, and concern, as it regards me. The friends of religion will grieve, and those who are otherwise will rejoice, if you could be drawn into compliances, and expressions of sentiment, at variance with your father's. Always, therefore, keep in remembrance, whether you are in company with decidedly pious and consistent Christians, or with those who are only partially so, or with those who are unhappily not so at all—that you have not only your own peace of conscience to maintain—but the estimation and honor of your parents also.

Many temptations will occur, to induce you to yield and conform to worldly habits and principles—the very reverse of those which you hear me supporting, both in the pulpit and the parlor. Be not ashamed of firmly, though modestly, in such cases, resisting them. State what your principles and mine are, and heed not the momentary unpleasantness of appearing singular, when conscience and duty require it. You may easily say, 'My father does not approve of such and such things.'

Should anyone think there is too prominent a regard expressed for his own reputation, in the advice and admonition he gives his children; let such an objector compare Mr. Richmond's feelings with those of the Apostle, in adverting to the conduct of his spiritual children, "Lest when I come again, my God will humble me among you; and I should bewail many who have sinned already," 2 Cor. 12:21.

All public amusements; novels; popular, amorous books, plays, songs; vanities, and finery; and all the sad tribe of poisonous and dangerous pursuits—should be regulated by this principle. And, oh! that your own simplicity and love to Christ—may never give way to one sad influence of false sentiment; even among those whom, on other accounts, we may esteem and regard. The half-religious are often more dangerous than those who are profane; because we are more on our guard in the latter case than the former.

The great number of instances in which I have seen the young people of religious families deeply injured in their spirits and habits, by much visiting with people of different views and customs from those of their own household, has made me, I confess, from pure motives of conscience and prudence, very averse to much of that sort of visiting in my children's case, which I know to have been productive of bad consequences in others. And the difficulty of drawing the line has always appeared very great with my numerous friends and acquaintances. Still I wish to make you happy in every reasonable way; and I am glad when I can give you the advantage of new scenes and company, when they are of the right kind. But as, in my journeys, extensive fellowship takes place, a great variety of characters will fall in your way; and I wish, for all your sakes, that you may be provided with sober, discreet, and pious cautions; that the natural ardor of youth may not lead you into unfitting or sinful compliances. I know many families, and you know a few, where, perhaps, the parents are pious—but their children are very imperfectly, if at all so. In such cases you may, from equality of age, be thrown much more into the light, frivolous, and objectionable conversation of the children, than the more useful communication of the parents of the family. Here, often, there is danger—ever prefer and chose those, of whatever age, in whom you think you discover holy, serious, benevolent, consistent ways of acting and speaking.

A young professor of religion has not in most instances, so difficult a task to sustain, when in conversation with those of a decidedly pious deportment, as with worldly people, and those who can scarcely be ranked as consistently serious; although often to be met with in religious groups. If, however, your conscience is correct, you will see more and more the duty of acting and speaking aright; and you must ever pray for grace to direct and govern you.

Difficulties and dangers of this kind greatly multiply, when those who, from relationship and family regard, stand very near to natural love and affection, are nevertheless, in a great measure, strangers to the power of true religion, and therefore mingled with the world wholly, pursuing its pleasures, and supporting its customs. I entreat you to be much on your guard in all such cases. Decays in religious feeling and conduct, continually arise from this source—and endanger the temporal, spiritual, and eternal welfare of many a hopeful family.

I am frequently placed in situations myself, where I find it very difficult to satisfy my conscience that I am doing right; among people and families where real religion has little or no part in their ways and conversation. In trying to be kind, attentive, and too compliant, perhaps, to their habits—I feel that I am in great danger of strengthening them in evil, and always of injuring my own consistency as a Christian.

I will now add some remarks, placed under select heads, which may make them more conspicuous, and better remembered; and may God render them useful to you! Keep them constantly with you, and let them be read over, at least once a week.

AMUSEMENTS.
Plays, balls, concerts, cards, dances, etc., etc. Serious, consistent Christians, must resist these things, because the dangerous spirit of the world and the flesh is in them all—they are the 'pomps and vanities of this wicked world,' so solemnly renounced by Scripture. To be conformed to these seductive and more than frivolous scenes—is to be conformed to this world, and opposed to the character and precepts of Christ. Those who see no harm in these things—are spiritually blind; and those who will not hear admonition against them—are spiritually deaf. Shun, my dear girls, the pleasures of sin, and seek those pleasures which are at God's right hand for evermore. You cannot love both!

Blessed be God, you have been kept far from those who make such recreations their idols, and allow them to wean their hearts from God. Never, in any conversation, speak lightly or triflingly of these subjects, as if you had not imbibed proper sentiments concerning them. Ever preserve the consistency of your parental house and principles.

BOOKS.
The characters of people, are speedily discerned by their choice of books. I trust that will never sacrifice time, affection, or attention to novels. But beware of novels in verse. Poets are more dangerous than prose writers, when their principles are bad. Were Lord Byron no better poet than he is a man, he might have done little harm; but when a bad man is a good poet, and makes his good poetry the vehicle of his bad sentiments—he does harm by wholesale. Do not be ashamed of having never read the fashionable books and novels of the day. A Christian has no time, and should have no inclination for any reading which has no real tendency to improve the heart. The finest rule I ever met with, in regard to the choice of books, is this: 'Books are good or bad in their effects, as they make us relish the Word of God, the more or the less, after we have read them.' There are too many valuable books on a variety of worthy subjects, which ought to be read, to allow of time to be dedicated to unworthy and useless ones.

MUSIC.
Shun all the wretched foolishness and corruption—of light, silly, and amorous songs; on the same principle that you would shun books of the same nature. Sacred music is the true refuge of the Christian musician. I wish your ears, your hearts, and your tongues were often tuned to such melodies. The play-house, the opera, and the concert-hall—have deluged the world with perversions of the heavenly art of music. Music was designed to lead the soul to heaven—but the corruption of man has greatly corrupted God's merciful intention for music. Do not belong to such perverters, nor seem to take pleasure in those who do.

DRESS.
Aim at great neatness and simplicity. Shun finery and show. Do not be in haste to follow new fashions. Remember, that with regard to dress—that Christians ought to be decidedly plainer, and less showy than the people of the world. I wish it to be said of my daughters, "With what evident and befitting simplicity are the daughters of Mr. Richmond attired." I refer you to my last letter on that subject.

BEHAVIOR IN COMPANY.
Be cheerful—but not gigglers.

Be serious—but not dull.

Be communicative—but not overbearing.

Be kind—but not servile.

In every company support your Christian principles, by cautious consistency.

Beware of silly or thoughtless speech—although you may forget your talk—others will not.

Remember! God's eye is in every place, and His ear in every company!

Beware of levity and familiarity with young men; a sincere, yet modest reserve, is the only safe path. Grace is needful here; ask for it—you know where.

JOURNEYING (travel).
Cultivate knowledge as you travel:

History, antiquities—in cities, towns, churches, castles, ruins, etc.

Natural history—in plants, earth, stones, minerals, animals, etc.

Picturesque taste—in landscapes and scenery, and all its boundless combinations.

Cultivate good-humored contentment in all the little inconveniences incident to inns, roads, weather, etc.

Cultivate a deep and grateful sense of the power, wisdom, and goodness of God—in creation and providence, as successively, presented to your notice, from place to place.

Keep diaries and memoranda of daily events, places, people, objects, conversations, sermons, public meetings, beauties, wonders, and mercies, as you travel. Be minute and faithful.

Ask many questions of such as can afford useful information as to what you see.

Write your diary daily; delays are very harmful. You owe a diary to yourself, to your friends left at home, and to your father, who gives you the pleasure and profit of the journey.

PRAYER.
Strive to preserve a praying mind through the day; not only at the usual and stated periods—but everywhere, and at all times, and in all companies. Prayer is your best preservative against error, weakness and sin.

Always remember that you are in the midst of temptations; and never more so than when most pleased with outward objects and people.

Pray and watch; for if the spirit is willing—yet the flesh, is deplorably weak.

RELIGION.
Keep ever in mind—that you have a Christian profession to sustain; and this both in pious and worldly company. Be firm and consistent in them both. Many eyes and ears are open to observe what you both say and do, and will be, wherever you go. Pray to be preserved from errors, follies, and offences, which, bring an evil name upon the ways of God. You may sometimes hear ridicule, prejudice, and censure assail the friends of true religion—it ever was, and will ever be so! But "Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven!" Be not ashamed of Christ here—and He will not be ashamed of you hereafter.

Initiate and encourage serious conversation, with those who are truly serious and conversible. Never to into pious company, without endeavoring to improve the souls of others. Nothing is more unfitting than that, while one part of a company is engaged in profitable and interesting conversation, another part should be trifling, giggling, and talking nonsense to each other.

Always show the interest which you take in the subject of schools for the poor, the distribution of tracts, the Bible and Missionary Societies, and all those important topics which so deeply occupy the people of God—and when you can find a congenial friend, talk of heaven and eternity, and your soul and your Savior. This will be as a shield to your head and your heart.

ESTIMATE OF THE CHARACTER OF OTHERS.
Look first for grace. Do not disesteem godly people on account of their foibles, or deficiencies in matters of little importance. Gold, even when unpolished, is far more valuable than the brightest brass. Never form unfavorable opinions of religious people hastily, "love hopes all things." Prize those families where you find consistent family prayer; and suspect evil and danger, where it is avowedly unknown and unpracticed. Always remember the astonishing difference between the true followers of Jesus, and the yet unconverted world—and prize them accordingly, whatever be their rank in society.

Good manners and piety form a happy union; but poverty and piety are quite as acceptable in the eyes of God; and so they ought to be in our eyes. Not only are the poor far more in actual number than the rich—but experience proves that the proportionate number of the truly godly among the poor, is much greater than the corresponding proportion of numbers among the rich. Take 1000 poor and 1000 rich; you will probably find ten of the latter godly; but 200 of the former godly.

Beware of the critical hearing of sermons preached by godly men. It is an awful thing to be occupied in balancing the merits of a preacher, instead of the demerits of yourself. Consider every opportunity of hearing as a message sent you from heaven. For all the sermons you have heard—you will have to render an account at the last day!

PARENTS.
Seek to make them happy in all that you are—and do. If you perceive that anything in your ways which makes them otherwise, you ought to have no peace until you have corrected it. And if you find yourself indifferent or insensible to their will and wishes, depend upon it—yours is a carnal, disobedient, ungrateful heart! If you love them, keep their commandments; otherwise love is a mere word in the mouth, or a notion in the brain—but not a ruling principle in the heart. They know much of the world, you very little—trust them, therefore, when they differ from you and refuse compliance with your desires. They watch over you for God, and are entitled to great deference and cheerful obedience.

You may easily shorten the lives of affectionate and conscientious parents—by misconduct, bad tempers, and disobedience to their injunctions. Let not this sin be laid to your charge.

I shall add no more at present, than that I am Your affectionate father,

Continued in Part 2.