As to the book itself, its florid expatiation could neither offend nor injure a boy like Robert, while its representation of our Lord was to him a wonderful relief from that given in the pulpit, and in all the religious books he knew.

But the point for the sake of which I refer to it in particular is this: Amongst the rebel angels who are of the actors in the story, one of the principal is a cherub who repents of making his choice with Satan, mourns over his apostasy, haunts unseen the steps of our Saviour, wheels lamenting about the cross, and would gladly return to his lost duties in heaven, if only he might--a doubt which I believe is left unsolved in the volume, and naturally enough remained unsolved in Robert's mind:--Would poor Abaddon be forgiven and taken home again?
For although naturally, that is, to judge by his own instincts, there could be no question of his forgiveness, according to what he had been taught there could be no question of his perdition.

Having no one to talk to, he divided himself and went to buffets on the subject, siding, of course, with the better half of himself which supported the merciful view of the matter; for all his efforts at keeping the Sabbath, had in his own honest judgment failed so entirely, that he had no ground for believing himself one of the elect.

Had he succeeded in persuading himself that he was, there is no saying to what lengths of indifference about others the chosen prig might have advanced by this time.
He made one attempt to open the subject with Shargar.
'Shargar, what think ye ?' he said suddenly, one day.

'Gin a de'il war to repent, wad God forgie him ?' 'There's no sayin' what fowk wad du till ance they're tried,' returned Shargar, cautiously.
Robert did not care to resume the question with one who so circumspectly refused to take a metaphysical or a priori view of the matter.
He made an attempt with his grandmother.
One Sunday, his thoughts, after trying for a time to revolve in due orbit around the mind of the Rev.Hugh Maccleary, as projected in a sermon which he had botched up out of a commentary, failed at last and flew off into what the said gentleman would have pronounced 'very dangerous speculation, seeing no man is to go beyond what is written in the Bible, which contains not only the truth, but the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, for this time and for all future time--both here and in the world to come.' Some such sentence, at least, was in his sermon that day, and the preacher no doubt supposed St.Matthew, not St.
Matthew Henry, accountable for its origination.