would come to Jesus, cast themselves at the foot of His cross, and accept pardon through the merits of His blood-shedding alone.  “Therefore, my friends,” said he, in conclusion, “despair not—­however guilty you may be, despair not—­however desperate your condition may seem,” said he, fixing his eyes upon me, “despair not.  There is nothing more foolish and more wicked than despair; over-weening confidence is not more foolish than despair; both are the favourite weapons of the enemy of souls.”

’This discourse gave rise in my mind to no slight perplexity.  I had read in the Scriptures that he who committeth a certain sin shall never be forgiven, and that there is no hope for him either in this world or the next.  And here was a man, a good man certainly, and one who, of necessity, was thoroughly acquainted with the Scriptures, who told me that any one might be forgiven, however wicked, who would only trust in Christ and in the merits of His blood-shedding.  Did I believe in Christ?  Ay, truly.  Was I willing to be saved by Christ?  Ay, truly.  Did I trust in Christ?  I trusted that Christ would save every one but myself.  And why not myself? simply because the Scriptures had told me that he who has committed the sin against the Holy Ghost can never be saved, and I had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost,—­perhaps the only one who ever had committed it.  How could I hope?  The Scriptures could not lie, and yet here was this good old man, profoundly versed in the Scriptures, who bade me hope; would he lie?  No.  But did the old man know my case?  Ah, no, he did not know my case! but yet he had bid me hope, whatever I had done, provided I would go to Jesus.  But how could I think of going to Jesus, when the Scriptures told me plainly that all would be useless?  I was perplexed, and yet a ray of hope began to dawn in my soul.  I thought of consulting the good man, but I was afraid he would drive away the small glimmer.  I was afraid he would say, “Oh yes, every one is to be saved, except a wretch like you; I was not aware before that there was anything so horrible,—­begone!” Once or twice the old man questioned me on the subject of my misery, but I evaded him; once, indeed, when he looked particularly benevolent, I think I should have unbosomed myself to him, but we were interrupted.  He never pressed me much; perhaps he was delicate in probing my mind, as we were then of different persuasions.  Hence he advised me to seek the advice of some powerful minister in my own church; there were many such in it, he said.

’I stayed several days in the family, during which time I more than once heard my venerable friend preach; each time he preached, he exhorted his hearers not to despair.  The whole family were kind to me; his wife frequently discoursed with me, and also the young person to whom I have already alluded.  It appeared to me that the latter took a peculiar interest in my fate.