what if He does?--what if
He does? I could not bear the thought; it seemed to overwhelm me."

As I read the pamphlet, I saw that the words were spoken to persons who
were taken by surprise. So should I be. They were able to say, "We have
eaten and drunk in Thy presence, and Thou has taught in our streets: in
Thy name we have cast out devils, and done many wonderful works." Yet,
with all this, He replied, "Depart from Me, I never knew you." I did not
see how I could escape, if such men as these were to be rejected.

Conviction was laying hold upon me, and the circle was becoming
narrower. The thought pressed heavily upon me, "What a dreadful thing,
if I am wrong!" Added to this, I trembled to think of those I had
misled. "Can it be true? Is it so?" I remembered some I had watched over
most zealously, lest the Dissenters should come and pray with them. I
had sent them out of the world resting upon a false hope, administering
the sacrament to them for want of knowing any other way of bringing them
into God's favour. I used to grieve over any parishioner who died
without the last sacrament, and often wondered how it would fare with
Dissenters!

My mind was in a revolution. I do not remember how I got home. I felt as
if I were out on the dark, boundless ocean, without light, or oar, or
rudder. I endured the greatest agony of mind for the souls I had misled,
though I had done it ignorantly. "They are gone, and lost forever!" I
justly deserved to go also. My distress seemed greater than I could
bear. A tremendous storm of wind, rain and thunder, which was raining at
the time, was quite in sympathy with my feelings. I could not rest.
Looking at the graves of some of my faithful Churchmen, I wondered, "Is
it really true that they are now cursing me for having misled them?"

Thursday. Friday, and Saturday passed by, each day and night more dark
and despairing than the preceding one. On the Sunday, I was so ill that
I was quite unfit to take the service. Mr. Aitken had said to me, "If I
were you, I would shut the church, and say to the congregation, 'I will
not preach again till I am converted. Pray for me!'" Shall I do this?

The sun was shining brightly, and before I could make up my mind to put
off the service, the bells struck out a merry peal, and sent their
summons far away over the hills. Now the thought came to me that I would
go to church and read the morning prayers and after that dismiss the
people. There was no pre