"Yes, Sir, when he will not condescend to be taught of God. If we admit the inspiration, and consequent authority of the Bible, we have an infallible teacher on all questions relating to our responsibilities and our final destiny, and the mind settles down into a state of quietude, and feels secure; but if we reject its inspiration and authority as a sham, or a dogma of superstition, we go adrift on the wide expanse of absolute uncertainty, and are left to perish, when, and where, and how we know not, till after the terrible catastrophe has occurred." There was now a pause in our discussion; and within the space of a few minutes, a little dark cloud, like that which was seen by the prophet's servants from the heights of Carmel, overspread the heavens, and we were compelled to look for a place of refuge from the storm which was coming. "I am going to see a poor woman, who lives in yon cottage; perhaps you will not object to accompany me; we shall find shelter there." "Most willingly, and if she be a deserving object, I shall feel most happy to contribute a mite for her relief; _for your sake, Sir_." "I thank you. Sir, for the personal compliment; and I doubt not but she will be thankful for your charitable donation, for she is very poor." "To be candid, Sir, I like practical sympathy better than sentimental; the one is a reality, the other a sham or a mawkish emotion, little less than a self-compliment to a refined but useless sensibility--something which excites the sentimentalism of a drawing-room, when we are looking on the print of an hospital or the wreck of a vessel hanging on the wall, but which gives no relief to a rescued sailor, or a discharged incurable." The poor inmate (Mrs. Allen) was seated in her chair, wrapped in flannel, and supported by pillows, her appearance plainly indicating that she was near death. She smiled on seeing me, but on seeing the stranger she became a little disconcerted, yet, with polite ease, she moved her hands towards two chairs, and said, "Gentlemen, be seated." "You appear," said Mr. Tennent, "very ill." "Yes, Sir, but I believe my life of suffering will soon end, and then all will be well--_and for ever_." "I suppose you hope to go to heaven when you die?" "I have no doubt of it, Sir." "But as your Bible speaks of hell and eternal misery, don't you sometimes fear going there when you die?" "I did once, Sir." "And why not now?" "Because my dear Saviour says, 'Come unto me, and I will give you rest.' I have come to him, and do come to him daily and hourly, and he has fulfilled his promise, and given me rest of soul, as an earnest of everlasting rest, and peace, and joy." "Then you have no fear in prospect of going into the great invisible world." "No, Sir; and I long for the hour to come when I shall depart and be with Christ. I saw him in the visions of the night, when deep sleep had fallen upon me, and he appeared in glory, as when he was transfigured on Tabor."