When he said that all men might be saved, I shook, for I
expected he would add, all except those who had committed the mysterious
sin; but no, all men were to be saved who with a humble and contrite
spirit 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; overweening 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 thin