hough ye have scorned
us, we shall come full of grace and compassion; for God so commandeth
us. O thou departed one! now thou art ennobled; for death gives
nobility: thou art decked with ornaments fairer than thy diamonds; for,
with all thy worldliness, thou didst have a believing spirit. Grief set
her crown of thorns upon thee: thou hast suffered much, and thou wilt
be forgiven. But I call upon ye who stand here this day alive: Ye can
build country houses, and furnish them sumptuously; but the prince of
all life, which is death, shall come and mow you down, and ye shall
moulder in the ground. A house of boards, that is the country house
which is decreed to every one, deep in the bosom of the earth. But
woe to those men whose holy ark is the fire-proof safe! The men of
so-called philosophy and natural science come and flatter the believers
in the fire-proof safe, and when the bolt from heaven falls, they say,
'There is a lightening-rod on our house, we have nothing to fear.' And
if death comes, what say ye then? Ye have no answer. O ye poor, rich
children! Turn unto us! The arms of mercy are open to receive you; they
alone can defend you. To that rich young man the answer was:--I speak
not of how the wealth was won from which the young soul will not part;
I only call--no, it is not I who call--my passing breath but bears the
eternal word. Leave all that thou hast and follow me. Wilt thou too, go
hence weeping, because thou canst not give up the riches of the world?
Oh! I call thee--no, He who has brought this day upon us, who looks
down from the height of heaven into this grave--He calls to thee: Rend
asunder the bonds of slavery! Thou art thyself a slave: be free! And
thou, noble maiden, who hast the highest in thyself, look down into
this grave, and forward to the time when such a grave shall open for
thee. Save thyself! Despise not the hand that will save thee. Days of
sorrow, nights of desolation will come upon thee. In the day thou wilt
ask, 'Where am I?' and for what is my life on the earth? And thou wilt
send forth thy voice weeping into the night, and wilt shudder at the
night of death? Thou knowest what is salvation; thou bearest it in
thyself. And now? Faithless--thrice faithless! Faithless to thyself, to
thy friends, to thy God!" Beating himself upon the breast, he cried in
a voice broken by tears,--

"How willingly, how joyfully would I die, I who am speaking to ye now,
if I could say, I have saved them. And