Littleworth. Well, now I can assure your Honour, that though for many years I have been such a neglectful sinner about the state of my soul, yet I never could bear to see any dumb creature in misery. Many and many a time, in my youthful days, have I sat up half the night when a cow was likely to calve. Aye, and the poor oxen, because I love to take notice of them, and feed them, and give them a pat when they return from plough, it is to admiration how well they know me, and how fond they seem to be of me; and I have felt more of this since I have known the Lord, than ever I did before.

Mrs. Littleworth. To be sure, our master is very tender about dumb creatures; he would not let our old housedog, Watch, be killed for ever so long a time, though he got so dirty and nasty; and then he would send to the doctor's for some strong sleeping stuff, that he might not know when he died.

Loveg. Well, Mr. Littleworth, this is a full proof of the excellency of real Christianity; nothing like the love of God to soften our hard hearts, and fill us with universal love; not only towards each other, but also to every creature of God which is innocent and useful in its kind.

Miss Polly. Is your Honour's tea sweet enough? (to Mrs. Worthy and daughter) Madam and Miss, I hope I make it to your liking.

Worthy. O yes, Miss Polly; and if, like some good people, I could have conceived that the remedy was in anywise likely to be proportionate to the disease, knowing so well the selfishness of mankind, I had never touched another lump of sugar while I live. (To Henry) But Mr. Henry, What farther do you know about the situation of the poor slaves, during what is called the middle passage?

Henry. Why, Sir, while we were lying off Jainaica for a few days, I saw one of these African traders land his miserable cargo; and afterwards, being in his Majesty's service, was permitted to go on board

Worthy. Why then, you know a deal about it?

Henry. Sir, I have known enough to make my very blood run cold.

Worthy. Did you see these poor creatures landed, and afterwards sold?

Henry. O yes, Sir, I saw it! and as far as I could understand, nothing can equal the art, excepting the cruelty, exercised against these ignominious sufferers on that occasion, for the purposes of our luxury and pride. When a ship full-slaved, as they call it, appears off shore, all are

alert:

alert sometimes they are sold on board; and then, like a set of criminals condemned to be hanged in our own laud, who have their irons knocked off before the halter is fixed upon their necks, they are washed and dressed, and their skins oiled, in order to give them a youthful and healthy look. The tricks of horse-jockies in this country, are never to be compared to the tricks of these slave-jockies in the West Indies; all art is used to shave and dress them in such a manner as to hide every grey hair, and all appearances of age and in some places a most horrid scramble for these poor creatures takes place; the general bargain being struck, the prices of blood are exhibited, and then each is left at a signal given, to seize the best slave he can procure.

Worthy. What must these poor creatures think of such a scramble? If they thought of our general character, they must suppose that Christians are Devils, and that Christianity was forged in Hell. But are they all disposed of after this manner ?

Henry. No, Sir; on other occasions, they are brought on shore, where the same arts are still practised on the purchasers of, human flesh. O, Sir, this was a sight that cut me to the heart beyond whatever I saw before!

[Here Henry drops a tear; the Farmer catches the sympathetic flame, and says to Mr. Lovegood,]

Farmer. Dear Sir, what a heart the Lord has given my dear child! Who could have thought it, when we all know what a wicked sinner he was but à htile time ago!

'

[Mrs. Littleworth is also very much affected, and addresses Mr. Lovegood.]

Mrs. Littleworth. Well, Sir, I must confess that Henry is a charming boy since he has taken to religion. I wish with all my heart I was like him: [to her husband] And, Master, if I have been cross with you about religion, I hope you will forgive me, for I know I have done wrong!

Farmer. [Quite overcom.] O my dear wife, what joy it will be for me to travel with you towards the celestial eity, as Master Bunyan calls it, now we are coming towards the latter end of our lives!

[Mr. and Mrs. Worthy and Mr. Lovegood were so affected at this turn of the conversation, that for a while it waś discontinued. The writer also, having been somewhat affected as the reporter of these words, begs thus to close the first part of this Dialogue, which, directly as timé permits, he purposes, by the divine blessing, to re-assume.]

AN

AN EXTRAORDINARY NARRATIVE.

A man shall say, Verily, there is a reward for the righteous; verily, there is a God that judgeth in the earth.

THE

HE turn of great numbers of the present age is in favour of scepticism and practical atheism. Indeed, the heart of man has in all ages been the same. In former times, when the world had gone off into gross idolatry, God selected one nation, amongst who he might set up his name and worship, as a standard for the rest to repair to: for them he wrought great and numerous miracles, which impressed the nations round them with awe. At length he sent his Son in human nature. He also wrought great miracles in confirmation of his mission. Having finished the work on which he came, he ascended to Heaven, leaving behind him this solemn assurance, Behold, I come quickly!

The state of things between the first and second coming of Christ, is said to be as that of " a man taking a far journey, who left his house, and gave authority to his servants, and to every man his work, and commanded the porter to watch *." It should seem by this and other such representations, that, though Christ would not in every sense leave this world, yet there would be but few such sensible manifestations of his power and glory as were seen in the former dispensation. His servants should have great occasion to live by faith; and the world, being furnished, not only with the writings of Moses and the Prophets, but of the Evangelists and Apostles, should witness fewer of his extraordinary interpositions.

The Gospel dispensation being distinguished by its spirituality, hot only its promises, but threatenings, are principally of a spiritual nature. The Lord, instead of punishing those who neglect his word, as formerly, with war, famine, and disease, often lets them alone, and gives them up to blindness of mind and hardness of heart; which are doubtless the most dreadful of all judgments, because they lead on to others of endless duration.

The effect of these things upon the ungodly, was foretold by Peter: "There shall come in the last days, scoffers, walking after their own lusts, and saying, Where is the promise of his coming? For since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the

VOL. X.

Mark xiii 34.
D

crea

ereation." If Peter had formed the most familiar acquaint ance with modern infidels, he could not have drawn their likeness with greater exactness. These are the men who scoff at divine revelation, and walk after their own lusts; who treat future judgment as a jest, and, observing that human affairs move on in much the same manner as they always did, infer that the world will be eternal.

It is the business of Christians, amidst these trials, to hearken to the declaration of the inspired apostle, and to follow his counsel: "But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in the which the Heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat; the earth also, and the works that are therein shall be burnt up. Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for, and hasting unto, the coming of the day of God."

With respect to unbelievers and scoffers, if there were any hope of gaining, though it were but for a few moments, their serious attention, I would wish them to consider, Whether there be not evidences enow of a divine interposition, even in the present age, to silence their scoffings and repel their reasonings? I am persuaded, that if every signal interposition of Providence were faithfully recorded and properly authenticated, a large body of evidence would appear in favour of that solemn truth at the beginning of this paper, "Verily, there is a God that judgeth in the earth.”

The following narrative was lately communicated to me by Mr. John Bignell, jun. He resides at Mr. Robert Bowyer's, Pall-mall; who also can testify the truth of it.

"In the year 1778, there died at Meonstoke, in Hampshire, a Mr. Thomas Wyatt, by trade a wheelwright. He had, through his own industry, accumulated a sufficiency to live the latter part of his days independent. Messrs. John and Francis Bignell being his nearest relations, he made them his executors, and left them the greater part of his property. Having many distant relations, however, and being of a generous disposition, he bequeathed to each of them a trifling legacy. For this purpose, he had con cealed a certain sum of money under the floor, at the bottom of a closet, specifying particulars in a letter which he had left written in Latin, directed to Mr. John Bignelf. After the funeral, the above-mentioned money was searched

for,

for, but could not be found. Mr. Wyatt having only a servant-maid in the house with him, for some years before his decease, the executors concluded that she must be the, person who had taken it; and accordingly accused her of having done so. She denied it in the most solemn manner, wishing that God might strike her dead if she had ever seen it. After being discharged, she went to a lodging in the same village. The executors still concluding that the money must have been taken away by her, procured a warrant and proper officers, in order to search her lodging. Upon their entering the house, she met them with the greatest cheerfulness, still declaring that she had never seen the money. They proceeded first to search the upper part of the house. After having gone through several rooms, she said, "Now we have been in all the rooms up stairs, we will go down;" but they perceived another door, which they soon found led to her apartment. As soon as they entered this room, they observed a box, which was locked. Upori demanding the key; she said she had lost it. In consequence of their threatening to break it open, however, she took the key out of her pocket, and unlocked the box herself; but immediately on its being opened, she was observed to take out something, and attempt to put it into her pocket. On stopping her hand, they found it to be a silver tooth-pick, which belonged to Mr. Wyatt; and searching further into the box, they discovered sheets, table-cloths, spoons, a pair of silver buckles, &c. all which she had taken from him. At the bottom of the box, they found the money in a smaller box, which Mr. Wyatt had particularly described. Finding herself thus detected, she fell down on the bed and expired immediately.

"N. B. Among other legacies which Mr. Wyatt left, he had bequeathed fifty pounds to his servant; and which bequest was thus expressed: "To my true and faithful servant, Elizabeth Earwaker," &c.

"After her death there arose a dispute between two of her relations, concerning whose right it was to receive her legacy; in consequence of which, one of them went and hanged himself. J. BIGNELL, jun."

The foregoing narrative was not published at the time, for obvious reasons; but it is now communicated to the public, as a warning to hardened sinners, who dare to utter lies; and in order to confirm them, invoke that dreadful curse which hangs over their guilty heads. ⇓ 2

A. FULLER