1. Have we done well to confine our horror of the consuming fires of righteousness to the next life? If we would but use the eyes which Scripture lends us, the rifts of prophetic vision and awakened conscience by which the fogs of this world and of our own hearts are rent, we should see fires as fierce, a consumption as pitiless, about us here as ever the conscience of a startled sinner fearfully looked for across the grave. Nay, have not the fires, with which the darkness of eternity has been made lurid, themselves been kindled at the burnings of this life? Is it not because men have felt how hot this world was being made for sin that they have had a _certain fearful expectation of judgement and the fierceness of fire_? We shudder at the horrible pictures of hell which some older theologians and poets have painted for us; but it was not morbid fancy, nor the barbarism of their age nor their own heart's cruelty that inspired these men. It was their hot honour for the Divine holiness; it was their experience of how pitiless to sin Providence is already in this life; it was their own scorched senses and affections--brands, as many honest men among them felt themselves, plucked from the burning. Our God _is_ a consuming fire--here as well as yonder. Hell has borrowed her glare from the imagination of men aflame with the real fieriness of life, and may be--more truly than of old--pictured as the dead and hollow cinder left by those fires, of which, as every true man's conscience is aware, this life is full. It was not hell that created conscience; it was conscience that created hell, and conscience was fired by the vision which fired Isaiah--of all life aglow with the righteousness of God--_God with us_, as He was with Jerusalem, _a spirit of burning and a spirit of justice_. This is the pantheism of conscience, and it stands to reason. God is the one power of life. What can exist beside Him except what is like Him? Nothing--sooner or later nothing but what is like Him. The will that is as His will, the heart that is pure, the character that is transparent--only these dwell with the everlasting fire, and burning with God, as the bush which Moses saw, are nevertheless not consumed. Let us lay it to heart--Isaiah has nothing to tell us about hell-fire, but a great deal about the pitiless justice of God in this life.