friend and minister, but that was Jesus himself, and He led me in a way that makes me give Him, and Him only, all the praise.  Now, though Jesus may do this again, yet the more common way with Him is to use earthly guides.  Now, if I could supply the place of such a guide to you, I should be happy.  To be a finger-post is all that I want to be—­pointing out the way.  This is what I so much wanted myself; this is what you need not want, unless you wish.

“Tell me, dear G., would you work less pleasantly through the day—­would you walk the streets with a more doleful step—­would you eat your meat with less gladness of heart—­would you sleep less tranquilly at night—­if you had the forgiveness of sins, that is, if all your wicked thoughts and deeds—­lies, thefts, and Sabbath-breakings—­were all blotted out of God’s book of remembrance?  Would this make you less happy, do you think?  You dare not say it would.  But would the forgiveness of sins not make you more happy than you are?  Perhaps you will tell me that you are very happy as you are.  I quite believe you.  I know that I was very happy when I was unforgiven.  I know that I had great pleasure in many sins—­in Sabbath-breaking, for instance.  Many a delightful walk I have had,—­speaking my own words, thinking my own thoughts, and seeking my own pleasure on God’s holy day.  I fancy few boys were ever happier in an unconverted state than I was.  No sorrow clouded my brow—­no tears filled my eyes, unless over some nice story-book; so that I know that you say quite true, when you say that you are happy as you are.  But ah! is not this just the saddest thing of all, that you should be happy whilst you are a child of wrath,—­that you should smile, and eat, and drink, and be merry, and sleep sound, when this very night you may be in hell?  Happy while unforgiven!—­a terrible happiness.  It is like the Hindoo widow who sits upon the funeral pile with her dead husband, and sings songs of joy when they are setting fire to the wood with which she is to be burned.  Yes, you may be quite happy in this way, till you die, my boy; but when you look back from hell, you will say, it was a miserable kind of happiness.  Now, do you think it would not give you more happiness to be forgiven,—­to be able to put on Jesus, and say, ‘God’s anger is turned away?’ Would not you be happier at work, and happier in the house, and happier in your bed?  I can assure you from all that ever I have felt of it, the pleasures of being forgiven are as superior to the pleasures of an unforgiven man, as heaven is higher than hell.  The peace of being forgiven reminds me of the calm, blue sky, which no earthly clamors can disturb.  It lightens all labor, sweetens every morsel of bread, and makes a sick-bed all soft and downy; yea, it takes away the scowl of death.  Now, forgiveness may be yours now.  It is not given to those who are good.  It is not given to any because they are less wicked