which may tend to show the consequences of error on a susceptible mind: Mr. L. had enjoyed the privilege of sitting under an able and successful ministry. His heart had been touched. And during a remarkable period, in which he saw many of his friends embracing the hope of salvation, his own convictions increased. Not long after, his feelings of impatience became sensitive. His attention was, subsequently, turned from its own proper object, to one more nearly connected with our natural selfishness. He ceased to be an Inquirer, and became an objector. It is hard to stop here. Opposition succeeded a habit of objecting. And apparent bitterness of prejudice and malevolence of expression, were observable whenever he opened his lips on the subject of religion. Still the past day of conviction was a memorable time to him. Five years afterwards, he was again aroused to a sense of his danger. And with the alarm came the frightful recollection of his former conduct. Language which he had uttered,--and which appeared nearly allied to blasphemy,-returned fresh to his memory. He accused himself of having committed the Unpardonable Sin. All efforts to persuade him to the contrary

were unavailing. The impression was daily deepening. His mind lost its elasticity; and a moody temperament succeeded. His friends were alarmed. A suspicion was A suspicion was started among them, that his conclusions might be just. This he marked, and laboured to confirm it. He seemed, I know not how,-to take a negative satisfaction in stating the desperation of his case; and in watching the fallen countenance of sympathy.

Many months had transpired, during which he was the subject of religious gossip with some, of a kind of superstitious dread with' others,—and of fervent prayer with a few of the remainder;—when the case was stated to a judicious Minister, whom some Providence had called into the neighbourhood. He waited on Mr. L., who, far from being averse to any conversation relative to his own state, seemed rather to court it. He was fluent in all the details of time and circumstance; and always ended his narrative with the declaration that he had ceased forever to pray. After a preparatory interchange of remarks, he was asked "You believe yourself guilty of the Unpardonable Sin ?"

"I am sure of it."

"In what did the crime consist ?"

"I opposed the work of God."

"So did Saul."

"I denied Jesus Christ."

"So did a Disciple afterwards honoured by his Master.

"I doubted the power of Jesus Christ, after strong evidences in its favour."

“So did Thomas.”

"What! are you attempting to prove by such examples that I am a Christian?"

"Not at all: I am only inquiring into the nature of your guilt; and thus far I see no reason for despair."

"I have hated God,"-rejoined the self-condemned," and openly avowed my enmity in sight of his Divine operations."

Our hearts are naturally
And I do not see why

"Thus far your case is lamentable indeed; but not hopeless still. at enmity with God. the open avowal of this, drawn out by the sight of the Law, into visible form, must necessarily and always constitute the guilt of which you accuse yourself."

"I feel that I am cut off from salvation." "It is difficult to reason against your feelings. But they are no proof on the present sub

ject. Let me inquire whether you desire the pardon of your sins?"

"Assuredly; if it were possible."

"Do you regret the conduct of which you accuse yourself?"

"Certainly."

"Do you sincerely desire repentance?"" "I would give the world, if it were mine, to be able to do so."

"Then it is not possible that you have been guilty to an unpardonable extent: for these are characteristics of a state of mind faithless, but far from being desperate. And they come within the design of the Gospel invitations."

There was something simple and touching in this mode of ministering to a mind diseased. And it produced an effect which, probably, no other process, could have accomplished. L. did not long survive this interview. But his living and dying hours were those of a favoured Christian.

Mr.

It is, perhaps, hardly fair to speculate on contingencies in such a case as this. But, humanly speaking, had Mr. L. been removed from time, without such providential interference, it would have been with the melancholy convic

R

tion in his own, and other minds, that he had been guilty of this fearful evil. And yet, had he gone down without hope to the grave, final unbelief and impenitence would have been the ground of his condemnation, and not the guilt of the Unpardonable Sin.

Let me pray you, My Dear Sir, to dismiss this whole subject, as one with which, at this time, particularly, you have nothing to do. There is enough before you to engross all your solicitude, without seeking subjects of unnecessary anxiety.

Adieu.

I am very truly, &c.

LETTER VII.

The disposition to discouragement-Discouraging texts in the Bible-An explanation of Luke, xiii. 24-Prov. i. 28.-Hebrew, xii. 17-Hosea,

iv. 17.

MY DEAR SIR,

I would not say that it is always perverse ness in the disposition of the Inquirer, which leads him to misapply the language of the Scrip