DIALOGUE XXIX. THE LOVELYS, THE FAMILY OF THE WORTHYS, AND MR. LOVEGOOD. CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THEIR DEPARTURE AFTER the event of the former dialogue, the Lovelys still continued at Brookfield-Hall. Their design was to have provided for themselves some little retired cot in the village, and having fixed upon one that suited their taste, they were about to fit it up in the style of those who find much happiness in a little, provided they are blessed with happiness in themselves while this step was not less satisfactory to the Worthys, who did all in their power to forward their design. The only conditions were, that as Mr. Lovely was not as yet thoroughly settled, respecting the divinity of the respectable Dr. Orderly, he might nowand-then attend his Church on the Sabbath-day. Even as yet Mr. Lovely seemed scarcely beaten out of all his strong holds of confidence in himself; for, to the very last week of his continuance in those parts, he was somewhat inclined to keep up his opposition to the gospel way of salvation by Jesus Christ; and therefore tried if he could not do more by his pen in his chamber, than what he could by conversation. All this he intended for the perusal of Mr. Lovegood; yet the more he studied the Bible, to make it compatible with his own sentiments, the more he was confused; and the more he wrote, the less he liked it; till at length he was obliged to commit all his writings to the flames, and soon became as humble and as lowly as a child; while he could scarcely speak against his stout opposition to these things to Mrs. Lovely, without a tear starting from his eye, that ever he should have given her a moment's grief on that subject; intermixed with holy gratitude, that now the silken cords of Gospel love, had united them still more than ever in heart and affection to each other, through the powerful influence of that love, which makes us all one in Christ Jesus. Mr. Lovegood's mind, at the same time, was led out in great thankfulness for these fresh instances of divine mercy, manifested through him, as a Minister of the word of life. But alas! very soon after this an unexpected summons to Mr. and Mrs. Lovely made a separation immediately necessary. The post, with the tidings of his great uncle's dangerous illness, reached Brookfield on the evening of Sunday; and Mr. Lovegood was sent to that evening, to take an early breakfast with the family on the Monday morning, that he might be with them at the time of their departure. Such an interesting and sympathetic union, had now taken place between all parties, as rendered this last interview very affecting. The reader therefore, must expect the language to be very broken. Lov. [With his eyes embossed with tears, to Mr. Worthy. Dear Sir, what shall I say to you for all the great love and kindness with which you have fayoured us poor outcast strangers, since we have been in these parts? Wor. Say Sir; why nothing. Don't you think our pleasure has been as great as yours, in being favoured with you and Mrs. Lovely as our guests? Lov. Sir, my dearest Ann has said it a thousand times, that the kindness, and affectionate hospitality with which you have received us, has been the preservation of her life. It appears as if she had forgotten all her sorrows, through the happiness we have enjoyed in being your guests, though I cannot tell how perverse, and unkind I seem to have been, in holding such arguments against you and Mr. Lovegood, upon matters, I now find, that I so ill understood. Wor. Dear Sir, you could not have been more perverse than I was, till the grace of God, accompanying his truth compelled me to yield. At one time I was so exasperated against Mr. Lovegood, when he first became our vicar, that I had a great inclination to write to the Bishop against him; while at another time, I found I had more to blame in myself, than in Mr. Lovegood's preaching. Mrs. Lov. My dear George, do not be grieved; for I know you did not mean to offend Mr. Worthy, Mr. Lovegood, or any one else by what you said; and you have often told me so of late; though I was at times, exceedingly sorry to hear you argue so strenuously, for what I then thought you would soon acknowlede to be wrong. Lov. Yes my dear, I was wrong; I am now convinced I was wrong, in being such a strenuous advocate for such a cause: and I am grieved at the perverseness with which I carried it on. But still I would not but have visited Brookfield for all the world. Loveg. Indeed my dear Sir, these controversial conversations, if they deserve that name, as they have been carried on between us, have effected us in a very different point of view, We were both equally earnest in our own cause, and we have equal reason to claim your forbearance, as you have to claim ours, But on the contrary, we were happy to find you so inquisitive upon the subject, and that you were so determined to feel your ground every step you trod ; it is nothing better than a mark of folly and hypocrisy, to yield without conviction. Mrs. Lov. Why then dear Sir, I am afraid I may not be right; for I plainly saw, what a state of ignorance I was in, from the very first time I heard you preach. Loveg. My dear Madam, you must not admit such a thought for a moment. Was not Lydia's heart opened by the Lord, the instant she heard the preaching of Paul at Phillippi? I have known some who have drawn the most terrible conclusions against themselves, because they have not felt all those horrors of mind, which some may unguardedly speak of, under the first discovery of the evils of their hearts, while after all, nothing but a holy love to God, truly converts the soul, and constrains us to obey. Lov. Well, well; what a providence it was, that when we designed to have travelled to Ruckford, we should have missed our way so as to take the road to Mapleton! But I now trust it was, that we might find our way, to be brought to see what we never might have known, had it not been for this merciful event. Dear Sir, let me again ask, what return can I ever make to yourself and family, for all your uncommon hospitality and kindness? Wor. Sir, it is all settled. Give us a promise that you will repeat your visit as speedily as you can. Mrs. and Miss Wor. And we must insist upon it that you bring Mrs. Lovely with you. Mrs. Lov. O Madam! to my latest moments, and I trust to all eternity, I never shall be able to express the gratitude of my heart for the mercies of this visit. Lov. Ah Madam! my dear wife will never start any objection against that proposal. We were obliged to surmount many difficulties before our union could be accomplished, and now we feel doubly united. I cannot doubt but that the religion of the Bible, will make us one of the happiest pairs upon earth. [To Mrs. Lovely, taking her by the hand.] My dear, you were right, and I was wrong. Forgive me that I have contradicted you so often; I am sorry for it. [He stifles his grief, and addresses Mr. Lovegood.] Dear Sir, I bless God a thousand times that ever I knew you. I confess, that at first I was very angry with you in my heart, because the mind of my dear wife was so much discomposed by what you said. When I think by what a perverse spirit I was actuated, it cuts me to the heart. Impute it to my ignorance, and forgive me. But I can assure you, I never parted with one I loved so much, since I have seen into the pride and presumption of my wicked heart. [Mr. Lovegood being quite overcome by the address, could make no answer, but retired out of the room.] Wor. [To Lovely.] Sir, your conversation acts too powerfully on the feelings of that good man. Lov. Yes Sir. And it was but a little time agó that I was jealous and suspicious of every word he said. And what pains I took to persuade my dear wife to leave your house, that I might have her at a distance from hearing those blessed truths, which I now leave with such regret! But I cannot express what I feel in being deprived of such an instructor, just as I have discovered how ignorant and ill-instructed I have heen all the days of my life. This painful circumstance affects me more than I can express. And what a scene will be exhibited before me, if I find my old uncle on this side of the eternal world, while I feel myself so incapable of instructing him, and he at the same time, so unfit to die! Wor. Oh Sir, as you must go post, and as your servant is to follow you with your vehicle, he will have room to carry some of the publications of our good old divines with him, such as Hall, Davenant, Usher, Leighton, and others, who were the real advocates of the doctrines of the reformation, authors, not less eminent, though less dignified; and let these, dear Sir, be your instructors, till we see you again; I will go into my library, and pick you out some of them-But I am sorry, that you have cause to apprehend so much, as it respects the state of your uncle's mind. Lov. O Sir! I should be ashamed to tell all I know or think of him. [To his wife.] My dear creature, what shall we say to him, should we find him alive? Oh what would I give, if that dear |