"THE BOOTS DID IT."
[To THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR.") Sin,—Owing to illness, the letter headed " Eternal Punish- ments," in your number of February 18th, has only just caught my eye. It is very seldom that one thing "does it ;" nor is the question referred to in the letter simply what the heading implies. But I may mention, if you will permit me, an incident which powerfully affected my own mind when I was very young, and took "everlasting punishment" for granted. One very fine, bright afternoon, in the days when St. John's, Bedford Row, was standing, and Baptist Noel preached there, I think, on a Thursday afternoon (as well as on Sundays), some old relative of Mr. Cecil's knocking away at the organ, I was present. The fine, bright day, the calm of Baptist Noel's voice and countenance, and generally the old-fashioned, dusty bush of the place, got into me. I was not prepared for a shock. But the preacher approached his close in words like these :—" And that will be your prison-house for ever. The very nature of God will make your release infinitely impossible. There you will abide, with the knowledge that there is only one Being whose eye can penetrate your gloomy abode, and that that Being must infinitely and eternally hate you. Now, unto," &c. The preacher murmured, the organ droned, the motes flickered in the sunbeams, the ladies' dresses rustled, and I came out of the chapel with an image of horror that never forsook me.—
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