The faces of the congregation wore an expectant look, for they
knew Mr Turnbull would _improve the occasion_: he always sought
collateral aid to the influences of the truth, and sometimes attempted
to suborn Nature herself to give effect to his persuasions. The text he
had chosen was: "But as the days of Noe were, so shall also the coming
of the Son of Man be." He made no allusion to the paper which the rain
was busy washing off the door of the chapel; nor did he wish to remind
the people that this was the very day foreseen by the bill-sticking
prophet, as appointed for the advent of judgment. But when, in the
middle of the sermon, a flash of lightning seemed to extinguish the
array of candles, and was followed by an instant explosion of thunder,
and a burst of rain, as if a waterspout had broken over their heads,
coming down on the roof like the trampling of horses and the noise of
chariot-wheels, the general start and pallor of the congregation showed
that they had not forgotten the prediction. This then was the way in
which judgment was going to be executed: a second flood was about to
sweep them from the earth. So, although all stared at the minister as
if they drank in every word of his representation of Noah's flood, with
its despairing cries, floating carcases, and lingering deaths on the
mountain-tops as the water crept slowly up from peak to peak, yet they
were much too frightened at the little flood in the valley of two
rivers, to care for the terrors of the great deluge of the world, in
which, according to Mr Turnbull, eighty thousand millions of the sons
and daughters of men perished, or to heed the practical application
which he made of his subject.
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