This sermon produced a very considerable effect on the audience, but no one was more deeply affected by it than Mr. Guion. He listened with profound attention, and though he mustered all his prejudices against the preacher, and endeavoured to avoid the force of his solemn appeals, yet he was _not able to resist the wisdom and the spirit by which he spake_. After the service was concluded he retired to meditate on what he had heard, but his mind was too deeply wounded to admit of calm meditation. His personal guilt, his danger, his ministerial infidelity, his dishonoured Lord, the future judgment passed in review before his mind, greatly agitating his feelings; and being unconscious of the immediate cause and design of this extraordinary mental excitement, he knew not where to obtain relief. As the Sabbath approached he attempted, as usual, to compose a sermon, but after poring over the text on which he had fixed, he abandoned it, because he could not understand it. He then selected another, then another, then another, till, in despair, he resolved that he would not make a fresh effort till his mind was more composed. "I'll preach," said he, "an old sermon," but he could not find one that he could preach. At length he took a volume of sermons from off one of the shelves of his library, and seeing one on these words, "Turn you to the stronghold, ye prisoners of hope: even to-day do I declare that I will render double unto thee" (Zech. ix. 12), he transcribed it. The following paragraph, when he read it from the pulpit, darted a ray of light across his mind, but he was not then able to discover the truth which it so beautifully exhibits: "You who are lying in the prison of an unconverted state, come hither to this sanctuary, whose gates stand open to receive you. 'It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.' He hath shed that blood which 'cleanseth from all sin,' and hath sealed that gracious and well-ordered covenant which offers pardon and eternal life to every penitent believing sinner. And now all things are ready for your reception; the Father is ready to embrace you, Christ is ready to wash you in his blood, the Spirit is ready to heal your diseased natures, angels are ready to rejoice at your return, and we, as the servants of this King of Zion, are ready to welcome you into this family of God, and do now exhort you, and pray you, in Christ's stead, 'to flee for refuge, to lay hold on the hope set before you.'" On the next Tuesday he rode over to Broadhurst, and heard Mr. Ingleby preach his evening lecture, but contrived to return without being seen. He now felt conscious that Mr. Ingleby was qualified to become his religious instructor, and therefore resolved to open a correspondence with him, which he did by writing to him as follows:--