That day God Himself looked down on the multitude as sheep having no shepherd, abandoned to be butchered by the wolves, and His heart beat with a divine compassion for the infinite sorrows of the world.
There was little more to it.

An exhortation to go home to fear and pray and set the house in order against the Day of Wrath, and that was all.
"My brethren," said the young man--and the intensity of his thought lent a certain unusual solemnity to the conventional title--"no one can tell how the events of this week may affect us.

Our feet may even now be going down into the Valley of the Shadow of temptation, of conflict, of death, and even now there may be preparing for us a chalice such as we shall fear to drink.

Let us pray that in that hour the compassion of Jesus may be real to us, and we ourselves find a sure place in that sorrowful Heart." And he was gone from the pulpit without another word.

It would have been almost ridiculous if one had noted that the surprised beadle had had no "And now to God the Father ..." in which to reach the pulpit, and had been forced to meet his victim hurrying halfway up the chancel; but perhaps no one but that dignitary, whom the fall of thrones would not shake, had noticed it.