Изображения страниц

conceive t to be a condition that rests with us, w conceive it to be a grace of the Holy Spirit, wrought in us; and that such a faith must purify the heart, as thereby we are united to Christ; and while we thus "abide in him, and he in us, we shall bring forth much fruit." Read the fifteenth of St. John's Gospel Sir, at your leisure, and that will tell you what we mean by faith; it is the most holy principle that can possibly rule the heart of man.

Lov. Sir, I never thought that you meant to preach faith without works; but as for me, I confess I thought that, I confess I scarcely know what I thought; but I cannot stand my ground. If I am wrong, the Lord have mercy upon me, and set me right! I hope I have not willingly set myself against the righteousness of God my Saviour; but I must acknowledge, if we are such fallen creatures as you say the Bible represents us to be, I cannot see how ever we can repent or believe, while our natures are so depraved.

Mrs. Lov. O my dear George! how glad I am to hear you say so! Do you not remember how much the Doctor himself seemed to be perplexed, when I asked, what they who felt their hearts so hardened and unbelieving must do, and who still wished to be changed? and be answered, they should pray to God for his grace; and then you know I said, that if God is to give us these graces, we cannot bring them to him, till we first receive them from him.

Wor. Why, we had it from good authority, that when the Doctor was ill the other day, and he refused the assistance of Mr. Jackadandy; when it was thought he would die, he was obliged to give up all his hopes of conditional salvation. For that he had performed these supposed condtions so ill, that his sins of omission, like those of St. Augustin, were more frightful in his sight than those of commission.

Loveg. And let me farther ask you dear Sir, have you in yourself that sufficient repentance on which you presume to qualify you for Christ?

Lov. [To his wife.] My dear, I fear I spoke too

hastily to you, when you mentioned your concern, after you had first heard Mr. Lovegood. I mean to think more seriously about these matters. I hope you will forgive me; and if I cannot think quite as you do, I will never oppose you any more.

Mrs. Lov. Oh my dearest George!-[She weeps he weeps-they all weep-and while these sympathetic tears interrupt the continuation of the Dia logue, the concluding narration of the history of this faithful and affectionate pair, must necessarily be deferred,]





THE Lovely's were in the habit of making excursions about that neighbourhood, that ey might entertain themselves with the scenery of the country. One morning they went to see a beautiful romantic water-fall, which being at some distance, occupied them the whole of the day.

A gentleman of an easy and liberal mind, whose name is Free, an old friend of the family of the Lovelys, had lately come into that neighbourhood. He accidently hearing that young Mr. Lovely was recently married, and that he was hospitably entertained at Mr. Worthy's, came over to see him; but unfortunately, on the very day on which he went to see the water-fall. The reader however, by this event, will gain more information respecting the family of the Greedys, especially of the great uncle, than otherwise might have been the case.

Mr. Worthy therefore with his usual hospitality, insisted that Mr Free should be deta ed that day at Brookfield-Hall, that he might not disappointed of his errand. Mr. Free having been thus hospitably invited to the house, after some intro uctory conversation, the follow ng dialogue took place.

Wor. Have you long known the family of the Lovelys, Sir?

[blocks in formation]

Free. Sir, Mr. Lovely's father and I were schoolfellows, and we have been in the habits of intimacy ever since we were also near neighbours, till about five years ago.

Wor. Then I suppose you lived somewhere near Grediton ?

Free. Yes Sir, much too near for the good of my health. The air of that place never agreed with my constitution. Our house was situated about halfway between Grediton and Fairfield, the abode of Mr. Lovely.

Wor. I should suppose from what young Mr. Lovely says of his father, that he is a person of a very respectable character.

Free. Very much so indeed Sir, though he married into a shocking family.

Wor. Yes, by his account the family of the Greedys are a sad set; his uncle has used him most cruelly on account of his marriage.

Free. Indeed Sir, the conduct of his uncle in that business was not less treacherous and unjust, than the behaviour of Mr. George Lovely was generous and fair. He quite takes after his father. He is of an excellent disposition.

Wor. I am quite charmed with him, he is such a an honourable youth. But it seems his uncle is determined to cut him off from every penny, on account of his marriage, though he is his heir at law.

Free. So he gives it out. But I should not wonder, when his rage is abated, though he is of a very revengeful and malicious turn of mind, if he leaves him every farthing. I know all the family well-they are a strange set.

Wor. I am afraid his mother is quite a Greedy, though he says nothing to us about her.

Free. Indeed Sir, she is entirely one of the family; she is always aiming at that which is covetous and mean, while her husband is just the reverse.

Wor. It is bad work when the disposition of the Iusband and wife are so contrary to each other: but

he talks of a very rich, old great-uncle, a lawyer, and one of the aldermen of Grediton, who approves of the match as highly as the other uncle opposes it. Though I do not like to ask the young people any questions about their rich relations, as it always brings some painful reflections to their mind; yet Mrs. Lovely has mentioned several things to Mrs. Worthy, respecting his astonishing covetousness. From what we can gather, he must be one of the most remarkable misers that ever existed.

Free. I should suppose, if you could search the kingdom over, you would not find his equal: and he is not less wicked than mean.

Wor. I should suppose his character as a miser, is almost as complete as it can be. While the prodigal in the Gospel, like him spends all in mad and riotous living, till he becomes a mere pensioner upon the hogs this miser it seems, though he feeds on the imaginary idea of his wealth, sustains the real evils of one in abject poverty.

Free. As a lawyer, nobody knows better how to turn the pockets of others inside out, that he may fill his own.

Wor. The profession of the law turns in well for those, who can get rid of conscience and principle, in their profession.

Free. Sir, from his childhood he was educated in all its subterfuges and chicanery; the practice of which, for some years, proved considerably to his advantage: but as he made it a point to stick at nothing, provided that he could serve himself, rather than his client, he had but little business after a while, except among those of his own sort.

Wor. In this respect, it seems he was rather too roguish for his own interest.

Free. Rather so; but then he procured for himself some excellent pickings through life, by being agent for the corporation to which he belonged.

Wor. I am told he is immensely rich.-Had he much to begin with?

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »