is of disgrace, of coming to shame.  Ay, my friends, so terrible is the torment of shame, that you may see brave men,—­men who would face death in battle, men who would have a limb cut off without a groan, you may see such, in spite of all their courage, gnash their teeth, and writhe in agony, and weep bitter tears, simply because they are ashamed of themselves, so terrible and unbearable is the torment of shame.  It may drive a man to do good or evil:  it may drive him to do good; as when, rather than come to shame, and be disgraced, soldiers will face death in battle willingly and cheerfully, and do deeds of daring beyond belief:  or it may drive him to do evil; rather than come to shame, men have killed themselves, choosing, unhappy and mistaken men, rather to face the torment of hell than the torment of disgrace.  They are mistaken enough, God knows.  But shame, like all powerful things, will work for harm as well as for good; and just as a wholesome and godly shame may be the beginning of a man’s repentance and righteousness, so may an unwholesome and ungodly shame be the cause of his despair and ruin.  But judge for yourselves; think over your past lives.  Were you ever once—­were it but for five minutes—­ utterly ashamed of yourself?  If you were, did you ever feel any torment like that?  In all other misery and torment one feels hope; one says, ’Still life is worth having, and when the sorrow wears away I shall be cheerful and enjoy myself again:’  but when one has come to shame, when one is not only disgraced in the eyes of other people, but disgraced (which is a thousand times worse) in one’s own eyes; when one feels that people have real reason to despise one, then one feels for the time as if life was not worth having; as if one did not care whether one died or not, or what became of one:  and yet as if dying would do one no good, change of place would do one no good, time’s running on would do one no good; as if what was done could not be undone, and the shame would be with one still, and torment one still, wherever one was, and if one was to live a million years:  ay, that it would be everlasting:  one feels, in a word, that real shame and deserved disgrace is verily and indeed an everlasting torment.  And it is this, and the feeling of this, which explains why poor wretches will kill themselves, as Judas Iscariot did, and rush into hell itself, under the horror and pain of shame and disgrace.  They feel a hell within them so hot, that they actually fancy that they can be no worse off beyond the grave than they are on this side of it.  They are mistaken:  but that is the reason; the misery of disgrace is so intolerable, that they are willing, like that wretched Judas, to try any mad and desperate chance to escape it.