"As I have already alluded, in a former chapter, to the feelings of moral conviction that wrought in my breast, I will only say that they began with this year, and were of a kind neither to be drowned nor driven away. Not for Adam's sins, or the sins of our fathers, did I feel condemned; it was only for such as belonged to me. Light had come and I had chosen darkness. I therefore cast no reflections on any class of persons, as the Gospel, conscience, and the creation, seemed to unite in proclaiming--'Thou art the man;' and under a sense of my ingratitude to Jesus, the sinner's Friend, I felt to add my hearty Amen, and say, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.'" In the pride of philosophical speculation, there are knowing ones who rob the rich idea of God of personality; also, in the attempts to deify the sacred parchments of Palestine, others unwittingly superannuate the Holy Ghost, driving us all to live solely upon ancient words--words that were undoubtedly its breathings when spoken. But one page from the journal of such an experience as that of Mr. Badger is better than all learned theory. Every page referring to his mind's exercise abounds in _feeling_--earnest, real feeling. He believes in the God of action, who converts the repentant soul by his holy, actual agency; in Jesus he believes as the lone sinner's Friend and Saviour; in the Holy Spirit he confides, not doubting its real striving in his own heart; in the oracles of prophets, of Jesus, and of the apostles, he holds unwavering faith that they are God's real, eternal word; whilst his frequent and many tears in private attest his deep sincerity in seeking his soul's salvation. He recognizes the supernatural, the miraculous, in the conversion of the sinner; and whatever we may concede to the rationalistic statement on this subject in our severely philosophical moods, it is certain that the miraculous statement is the one which more than it concentrates the diviner charm and the more commanding energy. It has ever been so; the statement wearing the outward miraculous hue, is the strong one--the one that holds the element of triumph; and though we do not hold that any work of God with man violates the constitution and laws of the human mind, it would have struck us with diminished effect had St. Paul, before Agrippa, discoursed on the accordance of his conversion with some _a priori_ argument for an abstract Christianity, or of its accordance with his own nature, and with all nature. This intellectualizing on great vital facts, whatever may be its philosophical merits, can never come up to the bold and picturesque sublimity of the words--"At mid-day, O king, I saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me; and I heard a voice speaking unto me and saying, Saul, Saul, why