The Lions of the Lord - A Tale of the Old West by Harry Leon Wilson
page 28 of 447 (06%)
page 28 of 447 (06%)
|
"Oh, dear, please stop it! You sound like swearing!" Her two hands were closing her ears in a pretty pretense. He seemed hardly to hear her, but went on excitedly: "Yet I have done what man could do. I am never done doing. I would gladly give my body to be burned a thousand times if it would avail to save them into the Kingdom. I have preached the word tirelessly-- fanatically, they say--but only as it burned in my bones. I have told them of visions, dreams, revelations, miracles, and all the mercies of this last dispensation. And I have prayed and fasted. Just now coming from winter quarters, when I could not preach, I held twelve fasts and twelve vigils. You will say it has weakened me, but it has weakened only the bonds that the flesh puts upon the spirit. Even so, I fell short of my vision--my tabernacle of flesh must have been too much profaned, though how I cannot dream--believe me, I have kept myself as high and clean as I knew. Yet there was promise. For only last night at the river bank, the spirit came partially upon me. I was taken with a faintness, and I heard above my head a sound like the rustling of silken robes, and the spirit of God hovered over me, so that I could feel its radiance. All in good time, then, it shall dwell within me, so that I may know a way to save the worthy." He grasped her wrist and bent eagerly forward, with the same wild look in his eyes that had before disquieted her. "Mark what I say now--I shall do great works for this generation; I am strangely favoured of God; I have felt the spirit quicken wondrously within me, and I know the Lord works not in vain; what great wonder of |
|