The old woman was questioned by her murderers.  Would she renounce her Lord?  Never; she could not deny the faith of Christ.  So they left her to her fate, and the sea rose.  Silently, quietly, stealthily it crept on, till her arms, her shoulders, her neck were covered, and then soon after the wave came which carried her into the presence of her Lord.  Then they pleaded with the girl, they tried to make her change, they used every argument likely to move her, but all in vain.  She was strong in soul, strong and mighty, so strong that death itself could not make her flinch.  Still the sea crept on, still the water rose, and still they tried to make her deny her Lord.  But, strong in spirit, the girl held bravely on.  Higher and higher came that ever-encroaching water, and soon her head was covered, and she thought her sorrows were ended, but her tormentors brought her out of the water, rubbed and warmed her, and brought her to life again, only to put the question to her once more.  Would she deny her Master?  No; again she refused to do so, and was dragged back, wet and dripping as she was, once more to be chained to the stake, and to lay down her life a second time.  But the Lord was with her, and she was faithful to the end.

That girl was strong in soul, strong in the highest, noblest form of strength; she could say No when tempted to do wrong, she was faithful when sorely tried.  But Samson was weak as water, he had no strength of soul; a woman’s pretty face, a woman’s coaxing word, was quite sufficient to overthrow all the strength of soul he possessed.  He could resist no temptation that came across his path; he was an easy prey to the tempter.

Oh! that we were all strong, strong in this highest, grandest form of strength, mighty giants in spirit!

But do you say, How can I obtain this strength, by what means can I acquire it?  I feel I need it.  I am often led astray; I listen to the voice of the tempter, I give way to my besetting sin.  I want to break off from it, but I cannot; I want to leave the companions who are leading me wrong, but I have not the strength to do it.  How can I become strong?

Here, in the story of Nehemiah, we find the answer.  Let us come again to the water-gate, at the south-east of the city.  There is the huge pulpit of wood, there is Ezra with the roll in his hand, there are the people, sobbing as if their hearts would break.

But ‘blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted’ It is for sin that their hearts are broken, they feel they have left undone so much that ought to have been done, they have done so much that they ought not to have done, that they are crushed with sorrow, and the tears will come.

But hush, who are these passing amongst the weeping crowd?  There is Nehemiah the Tirshatha, or governor, there is Ezra the scribe, and they are followed by a company of Levites.  They call to the people to stop crying, and to rejoice.  Is not our God a God of mercy?  Is there not forgiveness with Him?  If sin is confessed and forsaken, will He not pardon it?  Dry your tears then, and, instead of crying, rejoice.  Be merry and glad that God is willing to forgive, nay, that He has forgiven you.