terror, and some of that horror, which breaks upon the damned in eternity.  Well would it be, if the youth in the moment of violent temptation could lay upon the emotion or the lust that entices him, a distinct and red coal of hell-fire.[6] No injury would result from the most terrible fear of God, provided it could always fall upon the human soul in those moments of strong temptation, and of surprisals, when all other motives fail to influence, and the human will is carried headlong by the human passions.  There may be a fear and a terror that does harm, but man need be under no concern lest he experience too much of this feeling, in his hours of weakness and irresolution, in his youthful days of temptation and of dalliance.  Let him rather bless God that there is such an intense light, and such a pure fire, in the Divine Essence, and seek to have his whole vitiated and poisoned nature penetrated and purified by it.  Have you never looked with a steadfast gaze into a grate of burning anthracite, and noticed the quiet intense glow of the heat, and how silently the fire throbs and pulsates through the fuel, burning up everything that is inflammable, and, making the whole mass as pure, and clean, and clear, as the element of fire itself?  Such is the effect of a contact of God’s wrath with man’s sin; of the penetration of man’s corruption by the wrath of the Lord.

IV.  In the fourth place, the feeling and principle of fear ought to enter into the experience of both youth and manhood, because it relieves from all other fear.  He who stands in awe of God can look down, from a very great height, upon all other perturbation.  When we have seen Him from whose sight the heavens and the earth flee away, there is nothing, in either the heavens or the earth, that can produce a single ripple upon the surface of our souls.  This is true, even of the unregenerate mind.  The fear in this instance is a servile one,—­it is not filial and affectionate,—­and yet it serves to protect the subject of it from all other feelings of this species, because it is greater than all others, and like Aaron’s serpent swallows up the rest.  If we must be liable to fears,—­and the transgressor always must be,—­it is best that they should all be concentrated in one single overmastering sentiment.  Unity is ever desirable; and even if the human soul were to be visited by none but the servile forms of fear, it would be better that this should be the “terror of the Lord.”  If, by having the fear of God before our eyes, we could thereby be delivered from the fear of man, and all those apprehensions which are connected with time and sense, would it not be wisdom to choose it?  We should then know that there was but one quarter from which our peace could be assailed.  This would lead us to look in that direction; and, here upon earth, sinful man cannot look at God long, without coming to terms and becoming reconciled with Him.