e forgotten that God is a God of wrath as well as of
love; that Christ hath anger as well as pity; that He who holds the
hyssop of divine mercy holds also the scourge of divine indignation. You
have forgotten that the lash you so love to wield over your brother's
back shall be laid upon your own by Him who whipped the money-changers
from His temple. Listen! The day shall come when the condemnation you
are accumulating against yourselves shall overwhelm you. Stop trying to
steal the prerogative of heaven. Judge not. God only is just!"

The silence throughout the sermon was intense. During the closing words
which have been quoted, it was like a presence in the chapel. The voice
of the preacher rang out like a clarion. His eyes looked before him as
if he saw into the future. His hand was uplifted as if he would call
down upon them the very judgment which he predicted.

Without more words he sat down. No one moved or spoke for an instant.
Dan'l Hastings let his cane fall upon the floor. It echoed through the
silent place with a crash. Some of the women started and half cried out;
but the spell was now partly broken. Mr. Simpson suddenly remembered to
pray, and the gossips forgot to whisper when their heads were bowed.
There were some pale faces in the crowd, and some which the galling of
tears had made red. There was in the atmosphere something of the same
tense silence that follows a terrific thunder-clap. And so the service
ended, and the people filed out of church silent still. Some few
remained behind to shake the preacher's hand, but as soon as the
benediction was over he hurried out the side door, and, before any one
could intercept him, was on his way home. But he left a willing
substitute. Mrs. Hodges accepted all his congratulations with complacent
condescension.

"Dan'l," said Thomas Donaldson, as he helped the old man down the church
steps, "I was mistaken about the docterns an' the whisky. It was
stronger an' better, because it was the pure stuff."

"I 'ain't got a word to say," said Dan'l, "'ceptin' that a good deal of
it was jest sass." But he kept mumbling to himself as he hobbled along,
"Jedge not, fur you 're a-pilin' up sentences on yoreself. I never
thought of it that way before; no, I never."

Brent did not come out of his room to dinner that afternoon. Mrs. Hodges
was for calling him, but the old man objected. "No, Hester," he said,
"Freddie jest wants to be let alone. He 's a-feelin' now."

"But,