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A friend of mine many years ago was a college student. At that time they were all compelled to attend the college church. On one occasion he heard the preacher, who was also a college professor, make these statements:

First, that the elect alone would be saved.

Second, that among those who by the world were called Christians, probably not more than one in a hundred belonged really and truly to the elect.

Third, that the others, by reason of their Christian privileges, would suffer more hereafter than the heathen, who had never heard the Gospel at all.

The young man made a note of these propositions, and on the strength of them drew up a petition to the Faculty soliciting exemption from further attendance at church, as only preparing for himself a more terrible future.

He said: "The congregation here amounts to six hundred persons, and nine of these are the college professors. Now if only one in a hundred is to be saved, it follows that three even of the professors must be damned, and I, being a mere student, could not expect to be saved in preference to a professor." Far, he said, be it from him to cherish so presumptuous a hope. Nothing remained for him, therefore, but perdition. In this melancholy state of affairs he was anxious to abstain from anything that might aggravate his future punishment; and as church attendance had been shown to have this influence on the non-elect, he trusted that the Faculty would for all time exempt him from it.