and sent the shivers pp and down my spine, and I frankly confess I believe that is one reason why I have never shaved. When religious aspirations began to stir my inmost being, and Methodist theology was opened up -- in a measure -- to my understanding, I became dreadfully afraid of evil, of the devil, and, strange to say -- or is it strange? -- of God. The thought of death was terrible to me. It was the gateway to punishment for an ill-spent life. I had that awful picture ever before me of "the lake burning forever with fire and brimstone," where "the smoke of their torment ascends forever and ever," varied with the pleasant contemplation of being among those who "hid themselves in the caves and in the rocks of the mountains; and say to the mountains, and to the rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the Throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb; for the great day of