it really true that they are now cursing me for having misled them?"

Thursday. Friday, and Saturday passed by, each day and night more dark
and despairing than the preceding one. On the Sunday, I was so ill that
I was quite unfit to take the service. Mr. Aitken had said to me, "If I
were you, I would shut the church, and say to the congregation, 'I will
not preach again till I am converted. Pray for me!'" Shall I do this?

The sun was shining brightly, and before I could make up my mind to put
off the service, the bells struck out a merry peal, and sent their
summons far away over the hills. Now the thought came to me that I would
go to church and read the morning prayers and after that dismiss the
people. There was no preparation for the Holy Communion that day, and I
had deputed the clerk to select the hymns, for I was far too ill to
attend to anything myself. The psalms and hymns were especially
applicable to my case, and seemed to help me, so that I thought I would
go on and read the ante-communion service, and then dismiss the people.
And while I was reading the Gospel, I thought, well, I will just say a
few words in explanation of this, and then I will dismiss them. So I
went up into the pulpit and gave out my text. I took it from the gospel
of the day--"What think ye of Christ?" (Matt. 22:42).

As I went on to explain the passage, I saw that the Pharisees and
scribes did not know that Christ was the Son of God, or that He was come
to save them. They were looking for a king, the son of David, to reign
over them as they were. Something was telling me, all the time, "You are
no better than the Pharisees yourself-you do not believe that He is the
Son of God, and that He is come to save you, any more than they did." I
do not remember all I said, but I felt a wonderful light and joy coming
into my soul, and I was beginning to see what the Pharisees did not.