gh when you feel a great deal more like crying. The world is a
cheat. It first wears you down with its follies, then it kicks you out
into darkness. It comes back from the massacre of a million souls to
attempt the destruction of your soul to-day. No peace out of God, but
here is the fountain that can slake the thirst. Here is the harbor
where you can drop safe anchorage.

Would you not like, I ask you--not perfunctorily, but as one brother
might talk to another--would you not like to have a pillow of rest to
put your head on? And would you not like, when you retire at night, to
feel that all is well, whether you wake up to-morrow morning at six
o'clock, or sleep the sleep that knows no waking? Would you not like
to exchange this awful uncertainty about the future for a glorious
assurance of heaven? Accept of the Lord Jesus to-day, and all is well.
If on your way home some peril should cross the street and dash your
life out, it would not hurt you. You would rise up immediately. You
would stand in the celestial streets. You would be amid the great
throng that forever worship and are forever happy. If this day some
sudden disease should come upon you, it would not frighten you. If you
knew you were going you could give a calm farewell to your beautiful
home on earth, and know that you are going right into the
companionship of those who have already got beyond the toiling and the
weeping.

You feel on Saturday night different from the way you feel any other
night of the week. You come home from the bank, or the store, or the
shop, and you say: "Well, now my week's work is done, and to-morrow is
Sunday." It is a pleasant thought. There is refreshment and
reconstruction in the very idea. Oh, how pleasant it will be, if, when
we get through the day of our life, and we go and lie down in our bed
of dust, we can realize: "Well, now the work is all done, and
to-morrow is Sunday--an everlasting Sunday."

"Oh, when, thou city of my God,
Shall I thy courts ascend?
Where congregations ne'er break up,
And Sabbaths have no end."

There are people in this house to-day who are very near the eternal
world. If you are Christians, I bid you be of good cheer. Bear with
you our congratulations to the bright city. Aged men, who will soon be
gone, take with you our love for our kindred in the better land, and
when you see them, tell them that we are soon coming. Only a few more
sermons to preach and hear. Only a few