very thought of it drives me into a cold
sweat all over."

"Mrs Thompson," says Theobald gravely, "you must have faith in the
precious blood of your Redeemer; it is He alone who can save you."

"But are you sure, Sir," says she, looking wistfully at him, "that He
will forgive me--for I've not been a very good woman, indeed I
haven't--and if God would only say 'Yes' outright with His mouth when I
ask whether my sins are forgiven me--"

"But they _are_ forgiven you, Mrs Thompson," says Theobald with some
sternness, for the same ground has been gone over a good many times
already, and he has borne the unhappy woman's misgivings now for a full
quarter of an hour. Then he puts a stop to the conversation by repeating
prayers taken from the "Visitation of the Sick," and overawes the poor
wretch from expressing further anxiety as to her condition.

"Can't you tell me, Sir," she exclaims piteously, as she sees that he is
preparing to go away, "can't you tell me that there is no Day of
Judgement, and that there is no such place as Hell? I can do without the
Heaven, Sir, but I cannot do with the Hell." Theobald is much shocked.

"Mrs Thompson," he rejoins impressively, "let me implore you to suffer no
doubt concerning these two cornerstones of our religion to cross your
mind at a moment like the present. If there is one thing more certain
than another it is that we shall all appear before the Judgement Seat of
Christ, and that the wicked will be consumed in a lake of everlasting
fire. Doubt this, Mrs Thompson, and you are lost."

The poor woman buries her fevered head in the coverlet in a paroxysm of
fear which at last finds relief in tears.

"Mrs Thompson," says Theobald, with his hand on the door, "compose
yourself, be calm; you must please to take my word for it that at the Day
of Judgement your sins will be all washed white in the blood of the Lamb,
Mrs Thompson. Yea," he exclaims frantically, "though they be as scarlet,
yet shall they be as white as wool," and he makes off as fast as he can
from the fetid atmosphere of the cottage to the pure air outside. Oh,
how thankful he is when the interview is over!

He returns home, conscious that he has done his duty, and administered
the comforts of religion to a dying sinner. His admiring wife awaits him
at the Rectory, and assures him that never yet was clergyman so devoted
to the welfare of his flock. He believes her; he has a natural tendency
to believe everythin