But within the church the preacher in the pulpit spoke in a loud and angry tone to the people, as if they were all Godless sinners.
He told them that God would certainly punish all the wicked when they died, by sending them to eternal torment in hell. He said, also, that in hell the consciences of the wicked never die, and the fire will never be extinguished, neither will they ever find rest or peace.
All this was very terrible to hear, but still the preacher went on as if the subject on which he spoke was quite true.
He pictured to them hell as a stagnant lake of fire, where all the impure and sinful in the whole world would meet, where no cooling breeze could temper the fierceness of the burning brimstone of that bottomless abyss, in which the wicked would sink deeper and deeper in eternal silence for ever!
All this was still more horrible to hear, but the congregation could see that the preacher was in earnest, and therefore his words made the more lasting impression.
Meanwhile, outside the church the birds sang joyously, and the blossoms and flowers fluttered in the warm sunshine and the gentle breeze. It was as if each little bird and flower was crying out.
“Nothing is so great as the loving-kindness of the Almighty.”
Therefore, outside the church were love and joy, but not inside, while the sermon was being preached.
On that evening, before the preacher retired to rest, he noticed that his wife sat silent and thoughtful.
“What is amiss, my dear?” he asked.
“Why,” she replied, “I cannot quite bring myself to agree with what you said to-day in your sermon. It does not appear right to assert that so many sinners will be condemned to everlasting fire for ever. For ever! Ah, what can it be? I am only a poor sinful creature myself, but I cannot from my heart believe that even the vilest sinner will be condemned to burn in torture for ever. And, as we know, the goodness of the Almighty is as great as His power; and He knows how people are tempted from without and from within by their own evil natures. I know what I mean myself, but I cannot explain it properly to you.”
*****
Spring and summer have passed. It is autumn, and the trees are scattering their golden tinted leaves on the ground in showers. The severe but earnest preacher is seated by the bed on which lies, with her eyes closed in death, his pious and faithful wife.
“If any one can find peace and rest in the grave, through God’s mercy, it is thou!” sighed the preacher. Then he folded his hands, and knelt by the bed in prayer.
She was laid in the grave. Two large tears rolled down the cheeks of the earnest man on his return home, for the parsonage appeared so solitary and still. The sunshine of his home had vanished. She had departed.
It was night. A cold wind blew over the head of the preacher. With his eyes closed, he thought the moon was shining into the room, but it was no moonlight. A figure stood by his bedside. The spirit of his deceased
