ther to say of the particular effect the sermon had upon his heart.

Hen. He next told me, as he expressed himself, "that when all de broders and sisters dat stood near him saw dat our dear Saviour was breaking his heart," they all began to smile and weep for joy; and after the service was over they came round him like a swarm of bees; saying one after another " 0, my dear broder, how glad we are dat hearing of de death and sufferings of our dear Saviour has made you feel de grace of a broken heart. Now, broder, he will make you happy, and he will come and live in your heart while you lie at his cross. O how welcome is de poor sinner to de loving Saviour.” He afterwards told me, that he was soon persuaded to visit the good man he had heard preach; and when poor Sancho began telling him what a wicked heart he now found he had, he was a little surprised to hear him say all that was very good; and when he began to complain still deeper, he was yet more surprised when he said, that was better still; and when he further told him that he was so very wicked, that he must be ruined for ever, if our blessed Saviour would not save him as the chief of sinners, he was quite astonished when the minister joined in saying, "O my dear broder, that is best of all; how glad I am that you have received the grace to know your great need of the blood-shedding and atonement of our blessed Lord." Soon after this, Sancho beginning to find the conflict within himself common to all Christians, came and told the minister of a discovery he had made, that he had two sculs, a good one, and a very bad one; the minister explained to him from whence his mistake arose, and that he had not two souls, but two very· different principles in one and the same soul. Upon

a further discovery of the truths of the gospel, Sancho, however, quickly found himself a much happier man than ever he had been before; he walked in the love and fear of the Lord, and was soon baptized, and admitted to communion among these good people. And after that, was married to one of the women who would having nothing to do with him because he did not then love de dear Saviour.

Loveg. Why these good people have a dialect peculiar to themselves! but, notwithstanding some peculiarities of expression, they are most affectionately and warmly attached to the essential truths of the gospel and I am sure, wherever that is the case, mere modes of expression are of very little consequence; they have set an example to all the world in their zeal for the salvation of sinners, which never can be sufficiently admired.

Far. Henry, my child, I wish you could have brought Sancho and his family with you. How delighted I should have been to have had them all to work at our farm. I dare say we could have done very well by them, for Christians love to be diligent.

Hen. Ah! father, you don't understand matters. A slave in those parts is as much his master's properity, as your hogs and stock of cattle are a part of your property.

Far. The more's the pity, my child, a thousand and a thousand times over.

[The bells striking up for church, Mr. Lovegood retires to his study; the Farmer, Henry and Mr. Worthy, take the opportunity to walk out to see if there could be any thing done for poor Prettyface; and thus ends the dialogue on the Siave Trade.]

DIALOGUE XIV.

A WHISPER FROM BEHIND THE DOOR; OR THE SECRETS OF PRIVATE SCANDAL MADE PUBLIC: BEING

A

WINTER Evening's conversation over a Dish of Tea and a Game of Cards, at old Madam TOOGOOD's, of Lower Brookfield, (mentioned in Dialogue III. who lived on an Annuity of 150l. a Year ;) between the good old Lady,

The Rev. Mr. SPITEFUL, Master of the Free Grammar School, in Envy Lane, Mapleton, who had whipped away all his Scholars but one or two, that he might live at his Leisure, and still enjoy the Profits of the Endowment, availing himself of other Advantages by his occasional Services among the neighbouring Clergy;

Mr. WISEHEAD, a Bookseller in the same Town, a strict Attendant on Dr. DRONISH, and his Assistant the Rev. Mr. SMIRKING;

Mr. CONSIDERATE, one of the Aldermen of Mapleton, who possessed a few Houses in the Town, and a small freehold in the neighbourhood, and who had lately given more regular attendance on Mr. Lovegood, with his Wife and Daughter, who had been constant attendants some time before;

Miss PRATEAPACE, a young woman, who was an Apothecary's Daughter, one of Madam Toogood's God-daughters, and an apprentice of Madam Flirt, the Milliner; and

Miss POLLY LITTLEWORTH.

Miss PATTY was also expected, but both the young Ladies could not attend, as it was Washing Week at Gracehill Farm.

The conversation was thus introduced. Miss. Polly comes in all in a bustle.

Miss Polly. I am perdigiously sorry, ladies and gentlemen, if I have made you wait, but my mother wanted me to call at Mr. Traffick's, of the shop, as I was coming this way, for some grocery and other shop goods. I protest I have walked so fast that I am all in a state of prosperation (The tea is called for and introduced.)

Spiteful. I wonder that every body should be running to that shop, to support such a schismatical enthusiast, as though there were no other shops but his. I would turn my servant away, if he should dare to go there for a hap'worth of sand.

Mr. Considerate. Now really, Sir, you do no good by such vehemence. If a man acts conscientiously in his business, I don't see what we have to do with his religion; and, I believe, on all hands, it is acknowledged, that Mr. Traffick is very just in all his dealings.

Miss. Polly. Sir, my father insists upon it, that we must all run gallopping to that shop. I hardly think he would let our Sam wear a livery if he did not send there for all the trimmings: and when I was there, to be sure how he held forth behind the counter, as though he had been in a pulpit, about the miraculous conversion of my brother, as he called it. I am sure, of late, we are quite suffocated with religion in our house.

Mr. Spiteful. Yes, conversion is a mighty word with them; for it seems that not only such men as

Miss. Polly probably meant surfeited.

your brother, who was once so wild, and is now become so sanctified, but every one who steps a little aside from their strict notions of religion, they suppose to be no better than heathens, and they must all be converted or be damned. Mr. Wisehead, you are a man of reading, and I dare say you admit the justice of my remark against these enthusiasts.

Wisehead. In my opinion, Sir, it is very injudicious to bring forward the words conversion and regeneration, as though they could be in any sense applicable among us Christians in the present day. They were only designed for primitive times, when people were brought over from being Jews or Pagans, to be of our holy religion: but how can any of us be converted to the Christian religion, when we are Christians already.

Mr. Consid. What then, Sir, do you think that Henry Littleworth was a Christian when he and his comrades kept our town in a perpetual uproar; and when one evening they got from your barber one of your old wigs, and put it on an ass's head, and then drove him down the town, and into your shop, saying Mr. Wisehead was come to sup with his brother?

Wiseh. Certainly, Sir, these were very unwise and irrational steps in that giddy youth; notwithstanding it were the highest reflection upon the Supreme Being to suppose we have not within ourselves, from the principles of natural religion, sufficient powers to reform ourselves from our vicious courses; for what purpose has the Almighty given to every man both reason and conscience, if these were not adequate to the reformation of mankind?

Consid. Why really, Sir, I can't see what great matters reason has ever done in the reformation of mankind; she seems to stand aside, and let ninetenths act by mere passion and appetite; and as for