Some of the brilliant Deistical writers of our age deny the possibility of the forgiveness of sin, and assert that the promises of the Bible on this point are deceptive, and lead to licentiousness. But every troubled conscience, burdened with a sense of guilt, turns eagerly to the word of God, and finds its only relief in the assurance of forgiveness through the atoning blood of Christ. The following incident in Luther's life is in point: It is related of Luther that, under his first deep convictions of sin, he received much light and aid from the intelligent and kind Staupitz, who gave him a Bible, and told him to study its pages. Yet, through failure to comprehend distinctly the way of salvation, the earnest monk was still far from peace. His conscience was agitated by a fearful sense of sin. So sore was his conflict, that his health gave way, and he was brought to the gates of the grave. His anguish and terrors redoubled at the prospect of death. He was painfully distracted by a vivid apprehension of his own impurity and God's holiness. While he lay in the convent thus overwhelmed with despair, an old monk, as Melanchthon relates, entered his cell, and won his confidence, so that Luther opened his heart and disclosed all his fears which disquieted him. The old man, with the utmost simplicity, referred him to the Apostles' Creed, and uttered aloud this article, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." These simple words so artlessly recited, came to Lu-ther like good news from a far country, and shed sweet consolation in his heart. "I believe," he repeated to himself on his bed of suffering, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." "Ah," said the monk, "you must not only believe that David's and Peter's sins are forgiven; the devils believe that. It is God's command that we believe in the forgiveness of our sins." He then added, "Hear what St. Bernard says in his discourse on the Annunciation: the testimony which the Holy Ghost applies to your heart is this, 'Thy sins are forgiven thee.'" This was a word in season. At once light shone into the soul of the young monk at Erfurth. He drew nigh to God in faith, and thenceforth the peace of God which passeth all understanding, kept his heart and mind through Jesus Christ. He realized the pardon of sins as a personal blessing; and this is the only thing which can give life, light, and joy. There is no true religion unless a man is accepted and saved. Faith, simple faith, is the only requisite.—Sel.