It protruded from his mouth. He could not draw
it in. He died within three days. Physicians were astounded. There was
nothing like it in all the books. What was the matter with him? _He
cursed God, and died!_ Near Catskill, N.Y., during a thunder-storm, a
group of men were standing in a blacksmith-shop. There came a crash
of thunder, and the men were startled. One man said that he was not
afraid; and he made a wager that he dared go out in front of the shop,
while the lightnings were flying, and dare the Almighty. He went
out; shook his fist at the heavens, crying, "Strike, if you dare!"
Instantly a thunder-bolt struck him. He was dead. He cursed God, and
died!
God will not abide this sin. He will not let it escape. There is a
kind of manifold paper by which a man may, with a heavy pencil, write
upon a dozen sheets at once--the writing going down through all the
sheets. So every oath and blasphemy goes through, and is written
indelibly on every leaf of God's remembrance. Ah! how much our Father
bears! Can you make an estimate of how many blasphemies will roll up
from the streets and saloons of our cities to-night? If you go out
and look up you cannot see them.
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