ch on forgiveness and salvation, but I preached that these
were to be had in and by the Church, which was as the Ark in which Noah
was saved. Baptism was the door of this Ark, and Holy Communion the
token of abiding in it; and all who were not inside were lost. What
would become of those outside the Church was a matter which greatly
perplexed me. I could not dare to say they would be lost forever; but
where could they be now? and what would become of them hereafter? I
longed to save John Bunyan; but he was such a determined schismatic that
it was impossible to make out a hope for him! Sometimes I was cheered by
the thought that he had been duly baptized in infancy, and that his
after-life was one of ignorance; but this opened the door too wide, and
made my theory of salvation by the Church a very vague and uncertain
thing. So deeply was the thought ingrained in my mind that one day I
baptized myself conditionally in the Church, for fear that I had not
been properly baptized in infancy, and consequently should be lost
hereafter. I had no idea that I was lost now; far from that, I thought I
was as safe as the Church herself, and that the gates of hell could not
prevail against me.

I had many conversations with the earnest people in my parish, but they
were evidently resting, not where I was, but on something I did not
know. One very happy woman told me, "Ah! you went to college to larn the
Latin; but though I don't know a letter in the Book, yet I can read my
title clear to mansions in the skies." Another woman, whenever I went to
see her, made me read the story of her conversion, which was written out
in a copy-book. Several other, men and women, talked to me continually
about their "conversion." I often wondered what that was; but, as I did
not see much self-denial among these converted ones, and observed that
they did not attend God's House nor ever come to the Lord's table. I
thought conversion could not be of much consequence, or anything to be
desired.

I little knew that I was the cause of their remaining away from church,
and from the Lord's table. One thoughtful man told me, "Cornish people
are too enlightened to go to church! A man must give up religion to go
there; only unconverted people and backsliders go to such a place!" Yet
this was a prayerful man. What did he mean? At various clerical meetings
I used to repeat these things, but still obtained no information or
satisfaction.

I made it a rule to visit