Miss Dorothy.—"Did you not tell us, Sir, on Trinity Sunday, that publicans and harlots were more likely to enter the kingdom of heaven than your more righteous hearers? And did you not tell us that we must implore mercy, in terms equally humiliating? What was this, Sir, but proclaiming the jubilee of vice and the armistice of virtue?"
Mr. Guion.—"I merely quoted the language of Jesus Christ, which he addressed to the chief priests and elders of Jerusalem, and as we are all sinners, I am at a loss to conceive how any can implore mercy but in the same phraseology of speech. The language of our church, you know, Madam, is very, very appropriate to us all, 'Lord have mercy on us, miserable sinners.'"
Miss Dorothy.—"No, Sir. I am not a miserable sinner. That language is only intended for the depraved part of your audience."
Miss Susan.—"Miserable sinners! Ah! miserable enough. Why, Sir, there is more misery in the parish now, than there has been for the past forty years, put it all together. I went into the kitchen the other night, and I saw our cook with the Bible on the table, weeping as though she had lost her father. And this, Sir, is all your doings; and when I told her she should not go to church any more to be made miserable, she began crying again, and had the impudence to tell me the next morning, that unless she could have the liberty of going to church on a Sunday, that I must provide myself with another servant. So you see, Sir, what misery you are propagating among us."
Mr. Guion.—"All pure religion commences in repentance towards God, and can there be repentance without sorrow? And if tears, the signs of sorrow, should be shed, ought this to excite astonishment? And you will permit me to say, that prohibiting your servant from attending church on the Sabbath is neither kind nor equitable. The Scriptures tell us of some who will not enter the kingdom of heaven themselves, nor suffer them that are entering to go in."
Miss Dorothy.—"I see your reference, but feel not its force. And as we differ so materially in our religious opinions, I think we had better decline any farther intercourse. You may go, Reverend Sir, and comfort the miserable, who are crying for mercy, because they need it, but you will allow us and our friends to enjoy that mental complacency which arises from a full conviction that we discharge our duties to our God and to our neighbour, and this we take as a bright omen of our future destiny. We have no desire to be initiated into the mysteries of your faith, but we do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God."
Mr. Guion.—"If we cannot agree on the speculative points of religion, probably we may on its relative duties. And now, ladies, you will allow me to state the ulterior design of my visit. John Brown, a very worthy man, who is in the employ of Mr. Rider, fell two months since from the top of a barley-mow, and broke a leg. He is still confined to his bed. He has five children, and his wife is on the eve of being again confined. This severe affliction has reduced the whole family to a state of extreme distress, and I am anxious to procure a little assistance for them."
Miss Dorothy.—"They should apply to the parish. We pay our rates, and that, you know, Sir, is giving to the poor."