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                      A Curious DIALOGUE

                     Which took place, a few days ago, between

                   A PITMAN AND HIS WIFE,

                                        IN NEWCASTLE,

                          Respecting the present Hard Times.

                                           CONTAINING

                         The whole Conversation that passed ;

During which the Wife managed the Argument ſo well, that ſhe ſhewed, and per-
        ſuaded her Huſband, how they might ſtill live happy, although he
                cohſidered himſelf on the Brink of Miſery.

SWEET dear and loving Wife,
My ſenſes are at ſtrife,
About this careful life,
For we decline ;
Times being grievous hard,
All trading ſpoil'd and marr'd,
I have a ſweet regard
For thee and thine.
I thank you for your care,
Yet, huſband, don't deſpair,
Let us with patience bear
Theſe troubles here.
Dear love, 'tis all in vain,
To weep, ſigh, and complain :
Love, we may thrive again,
Be of good cheer.
My deareſt love, ſaid he,
How can I cheerful be
While pinching poverty
Knocks at the door.
And will not hence depart,
But wounds me to the heart ?
I never felt ſuch ſmart,
Sweet Wife, before.
Dear huſband, do not make
Such moan, for heaven's ſake,
Of me this counſel take,
Your boſom friend :
By patience put your truſt,
In Him that made you firſt :
When times are at the worſt—
Sure they will mend.
Dear love, it may be ſo,
But while the graſs doth grow,
The ſteed may ſtarve, you know,
When 'tis too late.
So my dear family,
Which want a quick ſupply,
By long delays may die,
Oh ! cruel fate !
Sweet huſband, don't deſpair,
Avoid diſtracting care,
I will the burden bear
Along with you
Our ſons and daughters they
Shall work, and if we may
Get bread from day to day,
Love, that will do
Pine not for worldly pelf,
Bleſs God, we have our health,
And that is more than wealth,
Be thankful then.
Job loſt abundance more,
Beſides his body ſore,
Yet he with patience bore,
While tidings came,
How all in ruins lay,
He patiently did ſay,
God gives and takes away,
Bleſt be his name !
Job did not frown and fret,
When with theſe things he met.
Dear loving huſband, let
Us imitate
His patience when in pain ;
Job found it not in vain,
God rais'd him up again,
And made him great.
Love, I have often read,
How Job was comforted,
Yet I am full of dread
And fear, for why ?
Our family is large,
Six children are ſome charge,
We fall within the verge
Of poverty.
Dear huſband, don't repine,
Nor grudge this charge of thine,
Bleſt be the Powers divine,
Sweet babes they are.
When we ſhall aged grow,
With locks like winter's ſnow,
They may, for aught I know,
Leſſen our care.
It is a great offence,
To diſtru t Providence,
Whoſe bleſſed influence
Takes ſpecial care
Of all the ſons of men ;
Huſband, be cheerful then,
God will be gracious when
Thankful we are.
My fingers do not itch
To be exceeding rich,
May we but go thro' ſtitch,
Keep from the door
The greedy wolf of prey,
And a l our deders pay,
Believe now what I ſay,
We need no more.
I and my children dear
Will work, then never fear,
But we ſhall ſomething clear.
Tommy ſhall weave,
The girls ſhall all begin
Forthwith to card and ſpin,
Which will bring ſomething in,
Then never grieve.
I value not to dine
On ſumptuous diſhes fine,
With rice and racy wine,
From foreign parts :
Good wholeſome bread and beer,
Inſtead of better cheer,
Let us receive, my dear,
With thankful hearts.
In all conditions ſtill,
Let us not take it ill,
Since 'tis His bleſſed will
It ſhould be ſo ;
Whether we riſe or fall,
Our ſubſtance great or ſmall,
Content is all in all,
My dear, you know.
O  moſt indulgent mate,
After this long debate,
My comforts they are great
In a kind wife.
Tho' ſome may think it ſtrange,
My fancy ſeems to range,
But now a happy change
Doth bleſs my life.
For to my joy I find,
A ſweet compoſed mind :
I  wiſh that all mankind
Were full as well.
J. Marſhall, Printer, Newcaſtle.
Deſpair's a dreadful thing,
And does poor mortals bring
Unto the bitter ſting
Of death and hell.
Sweet wife and heart's delight,
I had been ruin'd quite,
In death's eternal night,
Hadſt thou not been
The happy inſtrument,
That ruin to prevent,
Love, joy, and ſweet content,
I now am in.
Tho' ſlender is my ſtore,
Yet I'll deſpair no more,
That man is truly poor
That wants content :
But where content's increas'd,
'Tis a continual feast,
Praiſe God I am releas'd,
Death to prevent.
As God does give me grace,
This counſel I'll embrace,
Deſpair ſhall not take place,
In me henceforth.
Farewell, litigious strife,
And come, my loving wife,
Thy words have ſav'd my life,
God bleſs us both !
And all mankind likewiſe,
From the calamities,
Which do, as fogs, ariſe
From foul deſpair.
Let doubtful Christians fly,
In their extremity,
To God, who fits on high,
By fervent prayer.
He is man's friend in chief,
The fountain of relief :
When I was lost in grief,
And at the worst,
My dear indulgent bride,
Her counſel was my guide,
In God I'm ſatisfied,
In him I trust.
My children, wife, and I,
We will ourſelves apply
To true i dustry,
And leave the rest
To Providence divine :
Henceforth I'll not repine,
I hope that me and mine
Shall still be blest.
Thus, by the good wife's care,
The huſband in deſpair
Was brought at length to bear
His ſorrows rife.
The bitter cup of grief,
Her words did yield relief,
She was his friend in chief,
And faithful wife.
Good men and women, pray,
Who hear me now this day,
Labour, without delay,
To live in love ;
Aſſist each other still,
In fortune, good or ill,
Then you'll have a bleſſing still
Come from above !