Christ’s work was that of a God. I hear it in his voice; I see it in the flash of his eye; I behold it in the snapping of death’s shackles; I see it in the face of the rising slumberers; I hear it in the outcry of all those who were spectators of the scenes. He cleft the sea. He upheaved the crystalline walls along which the Israelites marched. He planted the mountains.
He raised up governments, and cast down thrones. He marches across nations, and across worlds, and across the universe, eternal, omnipotent, unhindered, and unabashed. That hand that was nailed to the cross holds the stars in a leash of love.
That head that dropped on the bosom in fainting and death shall make the world quake at its nod. That voice that groaned in the last pang shall swear before the trembling world that time shall be no longer. He was a God—a God!—TALMAGE.