Questions asked and answered.-Question 1st.How am I to know he will pardon if I ask?

Answer. Go and read of him in the New Testament. After observing his kindness, and patience, and meekness, and compassion and readiness to hear requests, you will begin to suppose, that had you been there, offering a reasonable request, he would not have turned away from you; but if it had been a petition which he had told you to make, you would confidently expect his compliance. Now you have to recollect that he is unchangeable; he is as kind now as he then was; he is as ready to hear as he was; he has told you tọ ask for pardon, and He will not refuse you.

Ques. 2d.-How am I to know if I am sincere, if I ask in a proper manner?

Ans.-You are sincere if you wish to quit sin. Those who wish to quit sin, try; those who wish to do right, to overcome sin, &c., ask God to help them to leave it. They are sorry when they fail, and try again; and when they fall into sin again, they are concerned the more, and make a stronger effort. In short, they wish to do every thing they find required in the Bible; and, being sorry for every failure, they keep up a struggle and a warfare against sin.

Ques. 3d.-If I ask for the pardon of all my sins, and to be taken into the number of the children of God, and to have my name with the ransomed, how am I to know when it is done?

Ans. He has had it written down for your encouragement, that, if you ask, you shall not be refused. He had it written because he does not appear to sinners, and they will not hear his lips pronounce words on this subject. When you ask, wanting pardon, you have rea

son to believe that he does not refuse, because he says he will not.

Ques. 4th.-Am I to hear no whisper, or to have no strong indication, hear no voice, or have no singular impulse to let me know that my sins are blotted out?

Ans.-No. Christ has made you no such promise. You will not see the angel that blots out your sins; you will not see the Saviour to inform you that it is done: "Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." Blessed are those who believe the Saviour's word as it stands on the page of his Book, as promptly as they would believe his word, if they had with him a personal interview.

Ques. 5.— If I were to ask for the remission of all my sins, and were to believe that my words were regarded, and my transgressions blotted out I should surely rejoice might I thus take comfort?

Ans. If you ever believe Christ's real statement as it stands in the Bible, it will be faith, and joy is one concomitant of faith. There was one who once declared, that, under a hope of recently pardoned sin, his predominant feeling was a desire never to offend God again. Such a wish is connected with repentance. It is often the strongest feeling observable at the time. Often, the sinner does never notice the goodness of God; and never has his attention turned toward that affecting kindness of the Saviour, until his own case brings it be. fore him, and until a hope of pardon arouses his observation.

Farewell.-Reader, if you believe that you never sinned, we bid you farewell in despair; for sin has benumb. ed your soul into a stupidity which is hopeless. If you know you are a sinner, seek pardon forthwith, for this

is the only wise course. If you wish pardon, our farewell advice, as to the manner of seeking it, is to act just as you would do if you saw the Redeemer.

Without seeing the Saviour, ask as you would if you did see him; without hearing him speak, attend to his written words just as you would do if you heard him speak them. "Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." Without seeing the white throne, before which we must certainly stand in judgment, act as you will wish you had when you do see it: without seeing the bright glory of the peaceful abode, and the joyous features of the white-robed society, act as vigorously as the worth of such a residence should prompt. without looking down into the red atmosphere, where are thrown together "the fearful, and the unbelieving, and abominable, and the murderers, and dogs, and sorcerers, and whoremongers, and all liars," act so as to avoid their company and their eternity. Farewell.

CHAPTER XLVI.

The Author's unbelief and the means of his rescue.

One way to make plain the cure of infidelity, is to give examples of deliverance. Facts are not read with less interest from being presented as the lever by which other minds have been moved; and as the particulars of our own history can be given

with more accuracy than others, the following may not be out of place.

Before entering upon the means of escape from unbelief, it is necessary to notice the mode of de scending into that abyss.

My parents were professors of religion, with a plain education, but well informed in holy things. Firm, ardent and unassuming, infidelity came not before their thoughts. It seemed to be their impression that entire unbelief very rarely existed; and that where it was avowed it could scarcely be sincere. I never remember to have heard the truth of inspiration questioned by mortal lips until the age of sixteen; when, having passed through the usual college course too hastily, I went to read medicine in Danville, Kentucky. As soon as I mixed with society, I of course entered the company of some who were admirers of the French philosophy. I was not as much with the world as others, but I heard them speak occasionally. When talking of religion their feelings were always awake. They seemed to believe that in disregarding inspiration there was something peculiarly original and lofty. The sparkle of the eye, the curl of the lip, and the tone of voice, if interpreted, seemed to say that the rest of mankind were contemptible fools, but " we are not." Their remarks impressed me, but not deeply. That their sarcasms and jeers influenced me towards infidelity, was because men love darkness more than light; for their arguments were so destitute of fact for foundation, that, ignorant as I was, I could sometimes see that they in reality favoured the other side.

I had some longing after the character of singular intellectual independence, and some leaning toward the dignified mien; but I did not assume either as yet, for my habits of morality remained, and my reverence for superior age and deeper research. It was necessary that I should receive praise from some source, before all diffidence or modesty should be swallowed up in self. esteem. And this intoxicating poison was not wanting. After the expiration of three years, I became surgeon's mate, or second physician, to a regiment of Kentucky militia, which wintered near the northern lakes. The approbation of many around me there led me to feel as though I was one of the actors on life's wide stage. After this, as I frequented the wine club or the card party, reverence for the Bible diminished; and as my respect for holy precepts diminished, my sin. ful habits increased. Infidelity inclines us toward pride, festivity, and, dissipation, whilst these engender infidelity. Like two ponderous metallic globes hung together on the side of a declivity, they mutually assist each other down the steep, and the farther they proceed, the greater is their momentum. After this I became first surgeon to a regiment of Tennessee troops which served at Mobile, There I became acquainted with many officers of the regular army, whose intimacy was not calculated to lead me toward God or heaven. During this time, and after this, all worldly success only injured me. It increased my haughtiness, or added to my means of profuse pecuniary expenditure. Revelry darkened the cloud that enveloped my soul, and of course I advanced rapidly in unbelief. In my race of infidelity I never reached entire atheism. I was what was called a deist. After a time I began to have mo、