of wasted cheeks, and tottering step! the burden bears you down almost to the ground to-day—­into the ground to-morrow.  Here stands the Judge to give you rest.  Yes, mother of sad eyes and broken spirit! whose long life is a sorrowful vigil, waiting upon the coming of wicked sons, of deceitful daughters—­weary, weary, and heavy laden with tribulation, here is the Comforter who shall give you rest.  And you, young man, and you, young maiden, sitting here to-day in the plenitude of youth, and hope, and love, Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, for the dark day cometh—­yea, it is at hand!”

So fearfully did his voice, and look, and manner express apprehension, as if something were about to fall upon the congregation, that there was a sudden startled cry of terror.  There were cries of “Lord!  Lord! have mercy!” Smothered shrieks and sobs filled the air; pale faces stared at each other like spectres.  People fell upon their knees, and cried out that they felt the power of the Lord.  “My soul sinks in deep waters, Selah;” cried the preacher, “but they are the waters of grace and faith, and I am convicted of all my sins.”  Then pausing a moment, while the vast crowd swayed and shook with the tumult of emotion, with his arms outspread, the veins on his forehead swollen, and the light flashing in his eyes, he raised his arms and eyes to heaven, and said, with inexpressible sweetness, in tones which seemed to trickle with balm into the very soul, as soft spring rains ooze into the ground, “Yea, it is at hand, but so art thou!  Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly; and when youth, and hope, and love have become dead weights and burdens in these young hearts, teach them how to feel the peace that passeth understanding.  Draw them to thee, for they, wearily labor:  they are heavily laden, gracious Father!  Oh, give them rest!”

“Come!” he exclaimed, “freely come!  It is the eternal spring of living water.  It is your life, and it flows for you.  Come! come! it is the good shepherd who calls his flock to wander by the still waters and in the green pastures.  Will you abide outside?  Then, woe! woe! when the night cometh, and the shepherd folds his flock, and you are not there.  Will you seek Philosophy, and confide in that?  It is a ravening wolf, and ere morning you are consumed.  Will you lean on human pride—­on your own sufficiency?  It is a broken reed, and your fall will be forever fatal.  Will you say there is no God?”—­his voice sank into a low, menacing whisper—­“will you say there is no God?” He raised his hands warningly, and shook them over the congregation while he lowered his voice.  “Hush! hush! lest he hear—­lest he mark—­lest the great Jehovah”—­his voice swelling suddenly into loud, piercing tones—­“Maker of heaven and earth, Judge of the quick and the dead, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the eternal Godhead from everlasting to everlasting, should know that you, pitiable, crawling worm—­that you, corrupt in nature and conceived in sin! child