pausing from time to time with her hand pressed upon her throbbing heart.  At length, the little vessel is finished, and she goes by night to the bank of the Nile, to take the last chance to save her boy from the knife of the murderers.  Approaching the river’s edge, with the ark in her hands, she stoops a moment, but her mother’s heart fails her.  How can she give up her child?  In frenzy of grief she sinks upon her knees, and lifting her gaze to the heavens, passionately prays to the God of Israel.  That prayer!  It was the wail of a breaking heart, a cry out of the depths of a mighty agony.  But as she prays the inspiration of God enters her soul, her eyes kindle, and her face beams with the holy light of faith.  She rises, lifts the little ark, looks upon the sleeping face of the fair boy, prints a long, long kiss upon his brow, and then with a firm step she bends down, and placing the tiny vessel upon the waters, lets it go.  “And away it went,” he, said, “rocking upon the waves as it swept beyond the gaze of the mother’s straining eyes.  The monsters of the deep were there, the serpent of the Nile was there, behemoth was there, but the child slept as sweetly and as safely upon the rocking waters as if it were nestled upon its mother’s breast—­for God was there!” The effect was electric.  The concluding words, “for God was there!” were uttered with upturned face and lifted hands, and in a tone of voice that thrilled the hearers like a sudden clap of thunder from a cloud over whose bosom the lightnings had rippled in gentle flashes.  It was true eloquence.

In a revival meeting, on another occasion, he said, in a sermon of terrific power:  “O the hardness of the human heart!  Yonder is a man in hell.  He is told that there is one condition on which he may be delivered, and that is that lie must get the consent of every good being in the universe.  A ray of hope enters his soul, and he sets out to comply with the condition.  He visits heaven and earth, and finds sympathy and consent from all.  All the holy angels consent to his pardon; all the pure and holy on earth consent; God himself repeats the assurance of his willingness that he maybe saved.  Even in hell, the devils do not object, knowing that his misery only heightens theirs.  All are willing, all are ready—­all but one man.  He refuses; he will not consent.  A monster of cruelty and wickedness, he refuses his simple consent to save a soul from an eternal hell!  Surely a good God and all good beings in the universe would turn in horror from such a monster.  Sinner, you are that man!  The blessed God, the Holy Trinity, every angel in heaven, every good man and woman on earth, are not only willing but anxious that you shall be saved.  But you will not consent.  You refuse to come to Jesus that you may have life.  You are the murderer of your own immortal soul.  You drag yourself down to hell.  You lock the door of your own dungeon of eternal despair, and throw the key into the bottomless pit, by rejecting the Lord that bought you with his blood!  You will be lost! you must be lost! you ought to be lost.”