after their doom is fixed. I have passed the line which divides the saved from the lost; and I cannot retrace my steps.' 'But,----' 'But, Sir,' interrupting me, 'excuse my abruptness; I feel as though I were now riding on the elements of woe; the voice of peace I cannot hear. My soul is in a whirlwind of despair! The storm will ne'er subside! The clouds of the Divine displeasure are highly charged; they are gathering blackness! and soon--yes, I feel death now creeping up to strike my heart!--soon, very soon I shall be cast into outer darkness!' 'But,----' 'But spare me!' 'But, do listen--_I may_ be the means of distilling consolation; for I have suffered all you now suffer, and yet have obtained mercy.' 'Yes, _you_ have, and I am glad of it for your sake; but that feeling aggravates my agony. Distil consolation! Yes, you may; but every avenue of my soul is filled up with anguish; it cannot enter. Tell me not of a Saviour, for I have slighted him! Tell me not of his compassion, for I have made it a subject of ridicule! Tell me not of heaven, for I shall soon see it, but at an immeasurable distance! Death is come, my heartstrings are breaking! I lie down in misery, to rise----' He could add no more. I left him in the agonies of despair, and soon after he died." "How awful!" exclaimed Mrs. Stevens; "was it not too much for your feelings?" "Too much!" replied Lewellin, deeply affected, "I scarcely knew how to remain, or how to move; and, had it not been for the nurse, who entered the room just at this crisis, I think that I should have sunk. It has left a horrifying impression on my mind, which reflection increases; for he was the only son of a pious father, who was ignorant of his character till he came up from the country to attend his funeral. The good man waited on me before the rites of sepulture were performed; and though I suppressed the strong descriptive language of his son, yet it was not in my power to alleviate his fears. He wept aloud. He paced backwards and forwards in my room, like a man bereft of his senses. '_Had I lost my property, I had merely lost what will melt in the general burning; but I have lost my child, who will never see----. Woe is me!_' I went to see the good man a few months ago, but his countenance has never since worn a smile--his food is the wormwood, and his drink the gall." "What anguish," said Mr. Stevens, "does an irreligious child often inflict in a parent's breast! I have often grieved because I have not had a family, but I am sure that I shall never grieve again."