re as more joy in heaven--

He took the words out of my mouth,

Over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety-and-nine just persons,
which need no repentance,* were his words.

* Luke xv. 7. The parable is concerning the Ninety-nine Sheep, not the
Prodigal Son, as Mr. Lovelace erroneously imagines.

Yes, Madam, I thought of it, as soon as I said it, but not before. I
have read the story of the Prodigal Son, I'll assure you; and one day,
when I am settled as I hope to be, will write a dramatic piece on the
subject. I have at times had it in my head; and you will be too ready,
perhaps, to allow me to be qualified fro it.

You so lately, Sir, stumbled at a word, with which you must be better
acquainted, ere you can be thoroughly master of such a subject, that I
am amazed you should know any thing of the Scripture, and be so ignorant
of that.*

* See Letter XXIV. of this volume.

O Madam, I have read the Bible, as a fine piece of ancient history--But
as I hope to be saved, it has for some years past made me so uneasy,
when I have popped upon some passages in it, that I have been forced to
run to music or company to divert myself.

Poor wretch! lifting up my hands and eyes.

The denunciations come so slap-dash upon one, so unceremoniously, as I
may say, without even the By-your-leave of a rude London chairman, that
they overturn one, horse and man, as St. Paul was overturned. There's
another Scripture allusion, Madam! The light, in short, as his was, is
too glaring to be borne.

O Sir, do you want to be complimented into repentance and salvation?
But pray, Mr. Lovelace, do you mean any thing at all, when you swear so
often as you do, By your soul, or bind an asseveration with the words,
As you hope to be saved?

O my beloved creature, shifting his seat; let us call another cause.

Why, Sir, don't I neither use ceremony enough with you?

Dearest Madam, forbear for the present: I am but in my noviciate. Your
foundation must be laid brick by brick: you'll hinder the progress of
the good work you would promote, if you tumble in a whole wagon-load at
once upon me.

Lord bless me, thought I, what a character is that of a libertine!
What a creature am I, who have risked what I have risked with such a
one!--What a task before me, if my hopes continue of reforming such a
wild Indian as this!--Nay, worse than a wild Indian; for a man who errs
with his eyes open, and against conviction, is a thous