To this I answer, that I am very sorry to find that the children of religious parents choose and delight in company where these things are the chief subject of conversation. I fear, lest God and virtue, and the important things of another world, are utterly banished out of such a visiting-room, where these discourses are the chief entertainment, and there is little place found for any profitable conversation, even about the most useful and valuable affairs of this life.

But, light as these pert questions are, I will consider them one after another. You say first, Must we look like old puritans? Must we live like nobody? No, my friends, I am not persuading you to return to the habit and guise of your ancestors, nor to transact your visits, nor to model your diversions by the pattern of fourscore years ago. There is a certain fashion and appearance of things, that belongs to every age: modes of conversation, and forms of behaviour, are ever changing in this life and it is no improper thing for persons, according to their rank and figure in life, to conform themselves to the present customs, as far as they are innocent, and have no evil influence upon morality or religion. But where any unhappy customs prevail in the world that make an inroad upon your piety, that endanger your virtue, that break the good order of religious families, and are usually or always attended with some mischievous consequences, surely in these instances it is better to look like a Puritan, and stand almost alone, than to follow the multitude in the road that leads to iniquity and mischief. A Puritan, or a Separatist from the vain or dangerous courses of a vicious world, is to this day a name of lasting glory; though the enemies of God and of your ancestors, may cast it upon them in a way of reproach. There are some things in which you must dare to be singular, if you would be Christians, and especially in a corrupt and degenerate age. A sense of the love of God secured to your hearts, and an inward peace of conscience, will infinitely countervail the enmity of the world, and overbalance the reproaches of an ungodly generation.

Besides, if the families that profess religion, and desire to preserve piety amongst them, and to transmit it down to their children's children, would but heartily join together, in a resolved abstinence from these hazardous diversions, there would be no need of any one of you to stand alone, and your appearance on the side of virtue would not be singular. You might animate and support one another with public courage, and, having God and virtue on your side, you might, in some measure, bear down the effrontery and ridicule of an age of vice and sensuality; an age wherein comedies and masquerades, gaming-tables and midnightassemblies are become the modish diversions.

But still it may be said, What sin is there in any of them?

Bear with me then while I take them in order one after another, and briefly give my opinion concerning each of them.

1. Let us begin with the playhouse. It is granted, that a dramatic representation of the affairs of human life is by no means sinful in itself: I am inclined to think, that valuable compositions might be made of this kind, such as might entertain a virtuous audience with innocent delight, and even with some real profit. Such have been written in French, and have, in times past, been acted with applause. But it is too well known, that the comedies which appear on our stage, and most of the tragedies too, have no design to set religion or virtue in its best light, nor to render vice odious to the spectators. In many of them piety makes a ridiculous figure, and virtue is drest in the habit of folly; the sacred name of God is frequently taken in vain, if not blasphemed; and the man of flagrant vice is the fine gentleman, and the poet's favourite, who must be rewarded at the end of the play.

Besides, there is nothing will pass on our theatres that has not the mixture of some amorous intrigue: lewdness itself reigns, and riots in some of their scenes: sobriety is put quite out of countenance, and modesty is in certain danger there: the youth of serious religion, that ventures sometimes into this infected air, finds his antidotes too weak to resist the contagion. The pleasures of the closet and devout retirement are suspended first, and then utterly vanquished by the overpowering influence of the last comedy the fancy is all over defiled, the vain images rise uppermost in the soul, and pollute the feeble attempts of devotion, till by degrees secret religion is lost and forgotten and in a little time the playhouse has got so much the mastery of conscience, that the young Christian goes to bed after the evening drama, with as much satisfaction and case, as he used to do after evening prayer.

If there have been found two or three plays which have been tolerably free from lewd and profane mixtures, there are some scores or hundreds that have many hateful passages in them, for which no excuse can be made, And when all the charming powers of poesy and music are joined with the gayest scenes and entertainments, to assault the senses and the soul at once, and to drive out virtue from the possession of the heart, it is to be feared that it will not long keep its place and power there. What a prophet of their own says of the court, may with much more truth and justice be said of the theatre.

"It is a golden, but a fatal circle,

Upon whose magic skirts a thousand devils
In crystal forms, sit tempting innocence,
And beckon early virtue from its centre."

Another of the poets of the town, who made no great pre

tences to virtue, and who well knew the qualities of the theatre, and its mischievous influence, writes thus of it,

"It would be endless to trace all the vice
That from the play house takes immediate rise.
It is the unexhausted magazine

That stocks the land with vanity and sin.
-By flourishing so long,

Numbers have been undone, both old and young.
And many hundred souls are now unblest,

Which else had dy'd in peace and found eternal rest.

As for any of my friends who are not yet convinced of the justice of these censures, I entreat them to read what Mr. Collier, Mr. Bedford, and Mr. Lawe have written on this subject. And though I would by no means justify and support every remark they have made, yet I think every reader who has a modest and pious soul, and has the cause of God and virtue near his heart, will be a little afraid to give his presence there, lest he should seem to encourage such incentives to iniquity and profaneness or if he should go thither once, merely to see and know what it is, I will persuade myself he will not make it his practice, or frequent that house of infection.

But you will say, There is some advantage to be gained by these entertainments, there is a deal of fine language in them, and fashionable airs of conversation: there are many of the fooleries of life exposed in the theatre, which suit not a more solemn place; and comedies will teach us to know the world, and to avoid the ridicule of the age.

But let my younger friends, who are so willing to improve in their knowledge of the world and politeness, remember, that whatsoever may be gotten, there is much more to be lost among those perilous and enticing scenes of vanity: the risk of their virtue and serious religion, can never be recompensed by the learning a few fine speeches and modish airs, or the correction of some aukward and unfashionable piece of behaviour. This is to plunge head-long into the sea, that I may wash off a little dirt from my coat, or to venture on poison in order to cure a pimple.

Besides, most or all of these ends might be attained by reading some few of the best of them in private: though I confess, I am cautious how I recommend this practice, because I think that almost all these dramatic composures in our age, have some dangerous mixtures in them. Those volumes of short essays which are entitled the Spectator, will give a sufficient knowledge of the ways of the world, and cure us of a hundred little follies, without the danger that there is in reading of plays: though even in those very volumes, I could heartily wish that here and there a leaf were left out, wherein the writers speak too favourably of the stage, and now and then (though rarely) introduce a sentence that would raise a blush in the face of strict virtue.

2. The next forbidden diversion is the masquerade. By all the descriptions that I bave heard of it, it seems to be a very low piece of foolery, fitted for children and for persons of a little and trifling genius, who can entertain themselves at blind-mansbuff. And as the entertainment is much meaner than that of the theatre, so it is, something more hazardous to yirtue and innocence. It does not so much as pretend to any such improvement of the mind as the theatre professes; while it lays a more dreadful snare to modesty, and has made too often a dismal inroad on the morals of those that frequent it. Could I but persuade persons to read what the Right Reverend the late Lord Bishop of London has published, in his Sermon for the Refor mnation of Manners, I am ready to think, that all those who profess virtue, would refrain their feet far from it, and not come near the doors of the house. IIis words are these:

"

"Amongst the various engines contrived by a corrupt ge neration to support vice and profaneness, and keep them in countenance, I must particularly take notice of masquerades, as they deprive virtue and religion of their last refuge, I mean shame, which keeps multitudes of sinners within the bounds of decency, after they have broken through all the ties of principle and conscience. But this invention sets them free from that tie also; being neither better nor worse, than an opportunity to say and do there, what virtue, decency, and good manners will not permit to be said or done in any other place. If persons of either sex will frequent lewd and profane plays, or openly join themselves to loose and atheistical assemblies of any kind, they have their reward, they are sure to be marked and branded by all good men, as persons of corrupt minds and vicious inclinations, who have abandoned religion and all pretences to it, and given themselves over to luxury and profaneness. And as bad as the world is, this is a very heavy load upon the characters of men, and in spite of all the endeavours of vice to bear up and keep itself in countenance, it sinks them by degrees into infamy and contempt. But this pernicious invention entrenches vice and profaneness against all the assaults and impressions of shame: and whatever lewdness may be concerted, whatever luxury, immodesty, or extravagance may be committed in word or deed, no one's reputation is at stake, no one's character is responsible for it. A circumstance of such terrible consequence to virtue and good manners, that if masquerades shall ever be revived (as we heartily hope they will not) all serious Christians within these two great and populous cities will be nearly concerned to lay it to heart, and diligently bestir themselves in cautioning their friends and neighbours against such fatal snares. Particularly, all who have the government and education of youth, ought to take the greatest care to keep them out of the way of this

dangerous temptation, and then to labour against the spreading of it.

"I cannot forbear to add, that all religious considerations apart, this is a diversion that no true Englishman ought to be fond of, when he remembers that it was brought in among us by the ambassador of a neighbouring nation in the last reign, while his master was in measures to enslave us and indeed, there is not a more effectual way to enslave a people, than first to dispirit and enfeeble them by licentiousness and effeminency." Thus far the right reverend author, whose zeal for the suppression of all these tempting machineries, has been so conspicuous and honourable.

3. The third place of dangerous resort, is the gamingtable. Many young gentlemen have been there bubbled and cheated of large sums of money, which were given them by their parents to support them honourably in their stations. In such sort of shops, young ladies are tempted to squander away too large a share of their yearly allowance, if not of the provi sion which their parents have made for their whole lives. It is a fatal snare to both sexes: if they win, they are allured still onward, while, according to their language, luck runs on their side; if the lose, they are tempted to another and another cast of the die, and enticed on still to fresh games by a delusive hope, that fortune will turn, and they shall recover all that they have lost. In the midst of these scenes their passions rise shamefully, a greedy desire of gain makes them warm and eager, and new losses plunge them sometimes into vexation and fury till the soul is quite beaten off from its guard, and virtue and reason have no manner of command over them.

My worthy friend Mr. Neal, in his reformation sermon, has taken occasion not only to inform us that merchants and tradesmen mix themselves at these tables with men of desperate for tunes, and throw the dice for their estates; but in a very de cent and soft manner of address has enquired, whether the public gaming in virtuous ladies is not a little out of character? Whether it does not draw them into mixed company, and give them an air of boldness, which is perfectly inconsistent with that modesty, which is the ornament of the fair sex? Whether it does not engage them in an habit of idleness, and of keeping ill hours? Whether their passions are not sometimes disordered? And whether the losses they sustain, have not a tendency to breed ill blood in their families, and between their nearest relations? It has been often observed, that gaming in a lady has usually been attended with the loss of reputation, and sometimes of that which is still more valuable, her virtue and honour." Thus far proceeds this useful sermon.

Now if these be the dismal and frequent consequences of