in my sins and am lost, who is to blame? What is the difference between His neglect to convert me and the old Calvinistic idea that Christ did not die for me? What is the difference between the spirit of God being partial to communities—going into one and converting a great many persons and passing others by—and God Himself being partial? And why does the Spirit not convert all the unwilling sinners in the community where it does convert sinners? These are questions that have been asked in a great many hearts before they yielded themselves up to skepticism and infidelity. In the present stage of critical investigation it is well for all preachers to remember that there is but one question involving this whole matter of conversion and pardon, and that is the question coupled with the Judgment; it is not, How much did the Heavenly Father love me? He loved all men. It is not, How much did Jesus do for _me_? He tasted death for every man. It is not, How much has the Spirit done for me? It gave the gospel to all nations, as the power of God unto salvation to every man that believeth. The one, and only, question in the Judgment is, What have I done for myself? What are the deeds done in my body? the deeds which _I have done_. Christianity is right thinking and doing; all that is to be attained in the religion of Christ is enjoyed in an upright life. Every theory that conflicts with this grand sentiment is smoked with the darkness of the dark ages. The Father of Spirits made us with the power of choice—gave us the liberty to choose—and we all may have, in the future, just such a state as we will. The Father loved all; the Son died for all; and the Spirit says to all, COME! The great struggle that is now going on between Christianity and unbelief is accomplishing two good things: First, it is making it hard for professors of religion to hold their errors, or cover up hypocrisy; and second, it is making it hard for infidels and skeptics to hold on to their flimsy objections to the Christian religion. Let the struggle go on! THE RECORDS RESPECTING THE DEATH OF THOMAS PAINE. That he bitterly regretted the writing and the publishing of the _Age of Reason_ we have incontestable proof. During his last illness he asked a pious young woman, Mary Roscoe, a Quakeress, who frequently visited him, if she had ever read any of his writings, and being told that she had read very little of them he inquired what she thought of them, adding, “From such a one as you I expect a true answer.” She told him, when very young she had read his _Age of Reason_, but the more she read of it the more dark and distressed she felt, and she threw it into the fire. “I wish all had done as you,” he replied, “for if the devil ever had an agency in any work, he has had it in writing that book.”—_Journal of Stephen Grellet, 1809._