Have mercy! Have mercy! Have mercy!" Long confession came from him slowly, bit by bit, as if sent forth, in involuntary cries, from a heart rent by the disappointment of waiting.

In strong voice, clear and true, he made himself one with the vilest in this pleading, and all the vices with which the soul of man has degraded itself were again summed up by him in this--"We have not loved Thee.

We have not trusted Thy love.

We are proud and vain; we have loved ourselves, not Thee." How common the night was--just like any other night! The clouds, as one looked at them, were seen to swing low, showing lighter and darker spaces.

How very short a time can we endure the tensest mood! It is like a branding iron, which though it leaves its mark forever, cannot be borne long.