be charged with sentiments they utterly abhor. Though a deluded Jew, rejoices in the murder of Christ by his forefathers, as a just punishment due to an impostor, yet I have no reason to conclude he would rejoice in my murder, if he had it in his power.

Whim. I confess, I never heard you say, when you were my curate, what a preacher said, the Calvinists suppose Jesus Christ might say, when a poor sinner. came to him crying for mercy.

Slapd. What could that be?

Whim. Why, the preacher, who was rather an orator, as far as I can recollect, said thus :-supposing a poor penitent, convinced of sin, was to come to Christ, pleading for mercy, and promising to renounce sin, and begging to be pardoned for the time to come; What are we to suppose! according to the horrid dogmas of Calvin; O how I shudder at the thought, that the loving Saviour should say, Depart from me, you cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the Devil and his angels; you are none of my elect; my blood was never shed for you! But I rather think he went too far.

Slapd. Yes Sir, and with your leave, I'll venture to go a step further. It was, I fear, a designed trick; an artful falshood. He must know that we conclude every penitent believer is already accepted in the purpose of God, or he never would have come: for that all that the Father hath given him, shall come to him; and that whosoever cometh he will in no wise cast out."

Bri. Sir, were you not shocked at this most vile perversion of our sentiments?

Whim. Why Sir, your opinion is, that Christ will never add to the number of his elect.

Bri. Will you answer me one question: can God dispense with his own foreknowledge? Can he lay aside that which belongs to his infinite existence? Can an infinite Being, who preordains all causes, be ignorant of the effect which those causes must produce?

Whim. Some among us, have doubted whether God may not dispense with his own foreknowledge. Bri. Sir, is it possible you can entertain such a sentiment? Have you any passage of scripture to bear you out?

Whim. I had rather talk no more on this subject. Bri. Sir, we most readily agree to drop it; it is a subject too deep for us to fathom. For whatever God's future designs may be, they are most wisely hid from us, that we may attend to that which is our duty, according to his commands.

Whim. I think the Calvinists are misunderstood. Good-morning to you Gentlemen. I have a long ride to take this evening.

Spri. O! but Sir, you must stop and dine with us. Our religious controversies should not interrupt our friendship and esteem for each other.

The invitation is accepted, the same subject was continued at the dinner, which will not be narrated, as these pages inadvertently swell beyond their first design, still a valuable end will be answered by this dialogue, if we are led to see more of the wisdom of God in his work upon the heart, and are less free in our unguarded conclusions against others.

DIALOGUE XLIV.

MR. WORTHY AND FAMILY, MR. LOVEGOOD, SIR THOMAS FRIEND, AND FARMER LITTLEWORTH.

THF RAKE'S PROGRESS, DISGRACE, AND RUIN.

THE

HE reader's attention has now been engaged for a considerable time at Sandover; and having been informed of the happy termination of the melancholy death of Mr. Merryman, he is once more invited back to Brookfield, to hear the conclusion of these events. Nothing occurred for several months of sufficient consequence to demand a share of the reader's attention, excepting the promotion of Thomas Newman, to the office of Parish Clerk, upon the death of Andrew Snuffle. This was an event of considerable magnitude to himself and his family.

My Readers would have been pleased to see what humble attention he manifested, when, for the first time, hé escorted the worthy Vicar from the vestry through the crowded aisles into the reading desk; with what becoming gravity and devotion he next entered his own desk; and how attentively he conducted that part of the service, which was now his office to perform; while the congregation could not but admire how well he looked, dressed in a decent suit of grey clothes; and indeed clad in new apparel, from top to toe, by the benevolence of Mr. Worthy. At the same time, it may easily be supposed, what the general feelings of the large assemblage were, for the credit of the new Clerk of Brookfield Church. And as for poor

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Betty, what she felt for him throughout the service, and especially when he raised the psalm, is not so easily to be conceived. I am happy however to say, that he performed his office to the admiration of all; insomuch, that in the church yard, (how it happened I cannot say,) Mr. Worthy and his family thus accosted him: "How do you do Mister Newman? we congratulate you very heartily upon your preferment-You have conducted your part of the service admirably to our satisfaction; and may you long live to enjoy your office!" While in addition to this, it seems, Mr. Worthy, at all times affable and kind, gave him a friendly shake by the hand.

No wonder that honest Thomas was quite upset, by such an address from this right honorable Esquire; and how to reply he could not tell. But that he should, for the first time be called, Mister Newman, surprized him most of all. He was satisfied this title could not have been recently imported, either from London or from Bath, as Mr. Worthy knew better, than to waste his time or property, in visiting any places of public resort, but as necessity required. Brookfield Hall was his paradise; and there he almost constantly resided to make every one as happy as himself.

I question however, as modern times go, if Mr. Worthy went much beyond the mark, in conferring such a title on this respectable peasant; for if, according to the general courtesy which prevails throughout the metropolis, where every shopman is a Mister, and every washerwoman and charwoman a Mistress, why should not the worthy Clerk of Brookfield Church be addressed as Mister also?

As for the title of Esquire, we know to what an extent it is now bestowed. It belongs almost to every Haberdasher and Hosier, to every Lawyer and Lawyer's clerk, and nearly to every Apothecary and Apothecary's scout: and of late, it seems every sprig of divinity at either of our universities, is an Esquire, till the transmogrifying hand of the Bishop forbids

that.title to exist any longer. And as every Esquire has a right to his armorial bearings, from some of his renowned ancestors, no doubt, but by the assistance of a little endless genealogy, all these esquires may resume them, whenever they chuse.

Though my good friend Thomas Newman may thus stand registered among the Misters, from the ecclesiastical rank to which he has been advanced, yet for my sake, higher than this, I hope he will not attempt to climb; for though he may deserve not a little credit in understanding Divinity, if not in its most critical, yet in its best and purest sense, better than many a Doctor so called. And though very frequently a wind from the North, is apt to blow these honors over to us in large abundance, (fees being first duly paid,) yet I confess I might feel it a little mortifying, were I to hear of Doctor Newman, while I must be contented to be plain Mister (alas for me!) all the days of my life. But yet I conceive, if Mister Newman really were to meet with one, who might be willing to pay the purchase money, for a Doctor's degree on his behalf; he would certainly shew his good sense and modesty in declining the honor, as many others have done before him. He and I humbly acknowledge, we have never enriched the world by our scientific knowledge, or literary pages; and therefore cannot, deserve those honors, which we conceive to be well and wisely bestowed on those, whose respectable abilities, and high erudition, deserve such a distinguished appellation. And while many are actually deterred from accepting such honors as would well become them, by others assuming them; these must be left to try, how far being mounted upon such lofty pedestals, as were never designed for them, will make them a single atom bigger than they really are.

But while we all rejoiced at the promotion of this engaging peasant, an unhappy event took place, which tried Farmer Littleworth and his family to the quick. The Reader will remember, how Miss Patty Little