of wrath and of the devil! say that there is no God!  Woe, woe! for the Judge cometh!  Woe, woe! for the gnashing of teeth and the outer darkness!  Woe, woe! for those who crucified him, and buffeted him, and pierced him with thorns!  Woe, woe! for the Lord our God is a just God, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.  But oh! when the day of mercy is past!  Oh! for the hour—­sinner, sinner, beware! beware!—­when that anger rises like an ingulfing fiery sea, and sweeps thee away forever!”

It seemed as if the sea had burst into the building; for the congregation half rose, and a smothered cry swept over the people.  Many rose upright with clasped hands and cried, “Hallelujah!” “Praise be to God!” Others lay cowering and struggling upon the seats; others sobbed and gazed with frantic earnestness at the face of the young apostle.  Children with frightened eyes seized the cold hands of their mothers.  Some fainted, but could not be borne out, so solid was the throng.  Their neighbors loosened their garments and fanned them, repeating snatches of hymns, and waiting for the next word of the preacher.  “The Lord is dealing with his people,” they said; “convicting sinners, and calling the lost sheep home.”

The preacher stood as if lifted by an inward power, beholding with joy the working of the Word, but with a total unconsciousness of himself.  The young man seemed meek and lowly while he was about his Father’s business.  And after waiting for a few moments, the music of his voice poured out peace upon that awakened throng.

“’Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’  Yes, fellow-sinners, rest.  For all of us, rest.  For the weariest, rest.  For you who, just awakened, tremble in doubt, rest.  For you, young woman, who despairest of heaven, rest.  For you, young man, so long in the bondage of sin, rest.  Oh! that I had the wings of a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest.  Brother, sister, it shall be so.  To your weary soul those wings shall be fitted.  Far from the world of grief and sin, of death and disappointment, you shall fly away.  Deep in the bosom of your God, you shall be at rest.  That dove is his holy grace.  Those wings are his tender promises.  That rest is the peace of heaven.

“Come, O thou all-victorious Lord,
   Thy power to us make known;
 Strike with the hammer of thy word,
   And break these hearts of stone.

“Oh that we all might now begin
   Our foolishness to mourn;
 And turn at once from every sin,
   And to the Saviour turn.

“Give us ourselves and thee to know,
   In this our gracious day: 
 Repentance unto life bestow,
   And take our sins away.

“Convince us first of unbelief,
   And freely then release;
 Fill every soul with sacred grief,
   And then with sacred peace.”

CHAPTER XLVII.

DEATH.