were unavailing. The impression was daily deepening. His mind lost its elasticity; and a moody temperament succeeded. His friends were alarmed. 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.

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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?"

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"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."

"Thus far your case is lamentable indeed; but not hopeless still. Our hearts are naturally at enmity with God. And I do not see why 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. Mr. L. did not long survive this interview. But his living and dying hours were those of a favoured Christian.

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

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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

tures; although there might be some truth in a general charge of this nature. The timidity which the importance of the subject in which he is engaged, may produce in his mind, will easily awaken unhappy suspicions against himself. And they may be led into activity by any thing which wears the semblance of discouragement. This is the natural effect upon a temper whose bias is sorrowful; and which is so much more readily attracted by difficulties than by the simplicity of the Gospel. Especially when we recollect, as I have already intimated, how prone is such a mind to look for the causes of its perplexity out of itself, and to fancy their existence where there could be no possible reason for fear. An accusing conscience is not only distrustful, but is a skilful artificer of its sorrow.

Some of the Scriptural passages which you have noted, are certainly adapted to awaken the inconsiderate, and to promote in us all a diligence to make our calling and election sure.— But not one of them was designed to thwart the purpose of the sincere Inquirer; or to render more precarious the confidence he is bound to repose in the Saviour. For proof of this position let us look into the meaning of some of those