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older than himself. In reply, he repeated what he had been taught respecting God. Show us your God! faid the Heathens-"I cannot do that," anfwered the child; but I can foon fhew yours to you." Taking up a stone, and daubing it with fome refemblance of a human face, he placed it very gravely upon the ground, and pushed it toward them with his foot: "There," faid he, "is fuch a god as you worship."

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AT a place feveral leagues weftward of Madras, fome mafons, who had embraced Chriftianity, were employed by a Bramin, to repair the embankment of a refervoir of water. It is cuftomary among the Hindus, to place in fuch fituations a number of fmall idols made of ftone. Thefe the workinen purpofely buried in the earth which they threw up to ftrengthen the embankment. The Bramin coming to inspect their progrefs, faid, "I fee nothing of our gods: what have you done with them?" What is it you mean, Sir?' replied the principal mafon: I faw a heap of ftones, which I thought would be of ufe to ftrengthen the embankment; but as for gods, I faw nothing of the kind." "Those were the things you ought to have taken care of," faid the Bramin: "did you not know that they were our gods?" Thofe things,' anfwered the mafon, '1 underftand as well as anybody; it is iny bufinefs to do fo; and, take my word for it, Sir, they were nothing but ftones: if they were gods, as you fay they are, they could easily get up again into their old places.'

The preceding anecdotes are extracted from a letter of Father Calmette, a French Jefuit, dated at Ballapurám, 17 Sept. 1735. It appears very furprising, that the fame persons who can to clearly detect the abfurdities of image-worship among the Heathen, should be blind to thofe of the Roman Catholic ritual. What difference can they imagine to exift between the ftones which were buried by the mafons, or bedaubed by the child, and thofe which they themselves worship, under the title of a Jefus, a Virgin Mary, or a Saint Francis Xavier? Why fhould they make thefe images the objects of their adoration, while thofe are juftly treated by them with contempt? The fatire of Horace is furely as applicable to one kind of image-worship as to another; and his own inconfiftency, as a profeffed Heathen in ridiculing the images he worthipped, is not greater than that which these anecdotes difcover.

Olim truncus eram ficulnus, inutile lignum :
Cum faber incertus fcamnum facerit ne Priapum,
Maluit effe Deum. Deus inde ego-

DIEREUNETES.

THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN.

AN EIGHTH VILLAGE DIALOGUE,
Between Farmer LITTLEWORTH, his Son HENRY,

Mr. LOVEGOOD, and others.

HENRY LITTLEWORTH was detained at fea by contrary winds three weeks longer than was expected. Many reports having prevailed of ftorms and fhipwrecks, the Farmer's mind was filled with fad apprehenfions for the fate of his fon: the fubject of his daily talk, and now the object of his most affectionate regard.~ At length he arrived at Mr. Vintner's, of the George, and, according to the plan preconcerted, was directed to Mr. Traffick's, of the fhop, where the following letter from his father, after the ufual falutations, was put into his hands :

"My most dear Child,

"For fure and certain I never fhall be able to thank the Lord enough for your letter. Oh, how I blefs his name that he has converted and faved fuch a wicked finner as you have been but you know, my dear Harry, I was a much wickeder finner than you; and our most merciful Saviour has visited me with his grace; and now how happy and joyful fhall we be together as foon as you come home! But I beg and pray of you, my dear child, when we meet, don't tell me how wicked you have been to me, or I must tell you how wicked I have been to you, in fetting you fuch a bad example. Oh, no! we must never talk to each other about these matters; for this would cut me to the heart, and kill me outright; for as I write, I can fcarcely fee to go on, because the tears run down my cheeks fo faft while I think of the wonderful love of Christ, which has met with two fuch vile finners as we have been: and fince he has loved and pardoned us both, how sweetly shall we love and pardon each other!

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My dear child, that very Mr. Lovegood, which we all used so to ri dicule, is the dear man who has brought my foul to God. Nobody can tell what a dear fervant of God he is; and I and your fifter Nancy go to his church every Sunday, and he is to meet you at our house the first day you come home; and Billy Traffick, a moft fweet Chriftian boy, and who always attends our church, is to come up to our houfe with you; and as you are lame, I fhall fend a horfe for you; fo I need write no more, as I hope to fee you fo foon. My dear child, from your affectionate father, SIMON LITTLEWORTH.'

[The reader must fuppose, that when Henry had read the letter, he was too much furprized to speak After fome time, Billy Traffick began the conversation.]

Billy. Come, come; wipe your eyes, and praise the Lord for his mercies; fee what love and grace he has been pouring down upon your family, and upon many more in thefe parts fince you left us.

Henry. What! and are my Father and my fifter Nancy indeed con verted to God! And does Mr. Lovegood preach the golpel to poor finners here?

Billy. Yes indeed, your father, by the grace of God, for above these two years, has been a wonderfully altered man; and Mr. Lovegood is a moft blessed and affectionate minifter of Christ.

Henry. (Still weeping.) My God! what mercies are these to such a vile wretch as I have been! What between joy and grief, how fhall I fupport it! and how shall I be able to meet my dear father !

VOL. IX.

3 G

Mr.

1

Mr. Traffick. Mr. Henry, your father has defired that I would met tion to you not to' fay any thing refpecting matters that are paft, as that will affect him too much. You are to go home, as if nothing had happened.

Henry. How can that be for, Oh, what bleffed thing's have happened fince I, a poor prodigal finner, left his house near four years ago! But are there no figns of grace upon the hearts of my poor mother and my other two fifters?

Traffick. I fear, not at prefent; though I am told your mother is not fo vehement against your worthy father as formerly; for Mr. Dolittle and Dr. Dronish at firft tried to fet all the parish against him.

Henry. Why, Mr. Traffick, was not you bred a diffenter? I thought you always went to Dr. Dronifh's meeting

Traffick. Yes, Mr. Henry; but fince God in his gracious providence has fent Mr. Lovegood into thefe parts, we have been convinced that it is better to follow the Gofpel than a party. So we have left the meeting, and do not mean to go there again, unlefs we' fhould have the fame Gospel preached there as once was; fo we all go to Brookfield church, excepting my old uncle, who fays he is determined to live and die in the religion in which he was bred and born.

Billy. And we fhall hope to fee you there next Sunday; yes, and it is facrament Sunday, and my father and I always attend the communion. We don't mind about being bred diffenters, provided we can hold communion with the people of God.

Henry. Oh! how this again overcomes me! I have had a thoufand fears what my poor father would fay to me for my former bad conduct; then how he would oppofe me on account of religion; for though in all other refpects I know the Lord had inclined my heart to be as obedient as a lamb, yet on a Sunday I was determined to travel, lame as I am, twenty miles a day, provided I could reach any place of worship where I could hear the bleffed found of the Gofpel; but inftead of all my fears, God has provided for me all that my heart could wish, and almost close to the door. Well, there, by the help of God, I will go, and to the facrament too, that we may all give ourfelves up entirely to the Lord, if Mr. Lovegood will permit me.

Billy. There is no doubt of that; for your letter, which you fent from Antigua, affected him almost as much as it did your father; and he believes, by the grace of God, your heart is really changed.

Henry. O, how little I thought of fuch bleffed events as thefe when I left my father's houfe, while living in all forts of fin; and what will my dear father feel, when he has his poor prodigal kneeling by him at that moft bleffed feast of love? Yes, there I will go, and at once join myself with the dear children of God wherever I can find them, that all may know that, by the grace of God, I am determined to give myself up to lead another life.

[Mr Traffick is called into the Shop, and Will Frolick comes in] Frolick. (To Mr. Traffick.) Is not Harry Littleworth come from fea! I hear he is at your house; may'nt I step in and ask him how he does ?. Traffick. Yes; but you won't find him the fame man now as when you and he, and the reft of you, kept our town in perpetual uproar.

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Frolick. Why, I have heard that he has received a bad wound, and that fince then, he has taken a mighty religious turn: and I wonder at that, when he was fuch an admirer of Paine's "Age of Reafon.' Traffick Reafon ! what do you mean by reafon, while you were all living together like so many madmen ?

Frolick

Frolick. Well, though his father has been frequently preaching about his wonderful converfion at Mapleton market, I fuppofe he is not fo grave but that he will thake hands with me, if I go in to fee him, for he was a merry fellow when he left us.

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Traffick. You know the old proverb, Mr. Frolick, "Be merry and wife," but when we were at family prayer, you, and he, and others, revelling about the town, used to disturb us by rapping at our windows and doors. If this was a fign that you were merry, it was no evidence that either you or he in thofe days were wife; but you may go in to him, if you please. My fon and he are together. [Frolick goes in.]

Frolick. Well, Harry, how are you? I am glad to fee you home again; for we all began to think you was gone to the bottom.

Henry. I thank you, William; but you must fuppofe it would have been a terrible finking to me if I had gone to the bottom; for you know the horrid state we were both in before I went to fea; neither of us were fit to live in this world nor the next.

Frolick. Why, I am told you are become very religious; but, as for my part, I had rather stop a little longer first.

Billy Traf. Really, it is fhocking to hear you talk; it is dreadful, when people can scoff even at death itself. You know it was but the other day that young Captain Rakih, my Lord's fecond fon, died, after about two days illness, of a stoppage in his bowels; and it is well known in what despair and agony he left this world, and what awful things he faid to his father for having encouraged and introduced him into all forts of fin; and what he said to another young officer who came to fee him juft before he died.

Frolick. Why, what did he fay?

Billy. "I have been affifting with you to conquer the enemies of our king and country, while I have madly fuffered myself to be conquered by the enemy of fouls." And then he cried," The battle is fought, the battle is fought, the battle is fought; but the victory is loft for ever." I would not have lived and died as he did for a thousand fuch worlds as this.

Frolick. Well, well, for all this, I should like to live a merry life while I live; and be a good penitent when I come to die; and that is my creed. I have no notion of being a faint too foon.

Henry. My dear William, let me be ferious with you. I confefs with shame I have been till of late among the number of those "fools who make a mock of fin; "I now grieve to think what a bold, hardened profligate I have been; and how I have corrupted you and others by my bad example. I confefs, I have had deep forrow for my finful couduct; but never felt any remorfe in the bleffed fervice of God. While I lived, as I fear you live, I tried all I could to laugh and joke away my mifery; but in all my mirth, I carried a gnawing hell within. I was a felf-tormentor every moment of my life, and I know that none of us could bear reflection; and in what we called our jovial fongs, we could blafphemously curfe the paffing bell for interrupting us, and ftill continue our rebellious, profane, and filthy converfation; defpifing all fubbordination to the laws of God and man, because, in the height of our wickednefs, we could not bear the least restraint. And what were our reflections when we were on our beds! As to myself, I never could sleep till I was worn out by my rakish conduct. While I flept I was tormented by dreams; and when I awoke, I arofe with nothing but difcontent and disgust against myself. The fight even of my parents was a horror to me, while the extravagant fruits of my vile conduct I dreaded every moment of my life. From this 3 Ga

hell

of mifery I made for myself, I was madly driven into another hell-aman of war! There I faw fin in its horrid perfection, without any of thofe earthle gratifications to comfort me, which I found in my father's house, and which I fo ungratefully forfook. I now muft humbly implore your forgivenefs for the mischief I have done you, my dear William, and others by my conduct, and affectionately request you to seek forgiveness from that moft merciful Saviour, whofe free falvat on 1 muft for ever adore in changing the heart and pardoning the fins of a wretch once fo vile. I now live a wonder to myself that my own wickednefs has not procured my eternal ruin. Let one who has been your fellow finner intreat you to become his fellow-traveller in the bleffed ways of God.

Henry was now fo overcome with his own thoughts, that he could say no more, till he was interrupted by a meffage, that Thomas Newman had brought the horfe, to convey him to his father's houfe at Grace-hillfarm.

[Mr. Traffick comes in from the shop.]

Traffick. Mr. Henry, Thomas Newman is come with the horses; you muft get yourself ready.

Henry. Thomas Newman! why is that the poor man who worked for my father, and the fame we used to ridicule on account of religion?

Traffick. Yes; and a truly good man he is; he is only gone to the butcher's for a joint of veal, to be roafted for fupper; for your father fays, they must have a piece of the fatted calf, that they may all eat and be merry, because you are come home.

Henry What, for fuch a wretch as I! [Henry weeps and adds, ] Oh, what a loving, forgiving, uniting fpirit does the grace of Chrift create among thole whofe hearts have tafted of this love!

[Henry is mounted, and rides home with Thomas, and Billy Traffick walks with them.]

Henry. Well, Thomas, how do my dear father and mother do? Thomas. Oh, fir, my mafter is very well, confidering; but he takes on wonderfully at the thoughts of seeing you.

Henry. And well he may, when he receives into his houte fuch an ungrateful wretch as I have been!

Thomas. O no, mafter Harry, that is not the caufe; it is because the Lord has fo mercifully met with you and changed your heart; aye, and it is wonderful how his heart has been changed by the grace of God fince you left us.

Henry. Why, Thomas, they fay Mr. Lovegood is a most faithful and affectionate preacher of the Gofpel.

·Thomas. Aye, that he is, as ever lived to be fure, he is the fineft man in all the world; and it will do you good to fee how my old mafter ftands up in the pew, and how, at times, the tears keep running down his cheeks, while he hears him preach the precious word of life among us poor finners; and you can have no conceivance what a many good people there are up and down the country; and how our church is crowded, Sunday after Sunday; and what a many abominable wicked finners have been converted to God, and how happy and loving we all are together!

Henry. Why, what you tell me feems quite like a dream: it is like coming out of hell into heaven; but is not that my father and one of my fifters coming to meet us?

Thomas. Yes; it is your father and Mifs Nancy. Dear old gentle man! he is coming out to meet you as the father came to meet the prodigal in the Gospel. How he has been talking about you, and counting

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