says, "But he left the money to you." Then I
pay attention; I say, "To me?" "Yes, he left it to you." I become
suddenly interested. I want to know all about it. So we are apt to think
Christ died for sinners; He died for everybody, and for nobody in
particular. But when the truth comes to me that eternal life is mine,
and all the glories of Heaven are mine, I begin to be interested. I say,
"Where is the chapter and verse where it says I can be saved?" If I put
myself among sinners, I take the place of the sinner, then it is that
salvation is mine and I am sure of it for time and eternity.

Engaging Rooms Ahead.

Mr. Sankey and myself--going about and preaching the gospel, is nothing
new. You will find them away back eighteen hundred years ago, going off
two by two, like Brothers Bliss and Whittle, and Brothers Needham and
Stebbins, to different towns and villages. They had gone out, and there
had been great revivals in all the cities, towns, and villages they had
entered. Everywhere they had met with the greatest success. Even the
very devils were subject to them. Disease had fled before them. When
they met a lame man they said to him, "You don't want to be lame any
longer," and he walked. When they met a blind man they but told him to
open his eyes, and behold, he could see. And they came to Christ and
rejoiced over their great success, and He just said to them, "I will
give you something to rejoice over. Rejoice that your names are written
in heaven."

Now there are a great many people who do not believe in such an
assurance as this, "Rejoice, because your names are written in heaven."
How are you going to rejoice if your names are not written there? While
speaking about this some time ago, a man told me we were preaching a
very ridiculous doctrine when we preached this doctrine of assurance. I
ask you in all candor what are you going to do with this assurance if we
don't preach it? It is stated that our names are written there; blotted
out of the Book of Death and transferred to the Book of Life.

I remember while in Europe I was traveling with a friend--she is in this
hall to-night. On one occasion we were journeying from London to
Liverpool, and the question was put as to where we would stop. We said
we would go to the "Northwestern," at Lime street, as that was the Hotel
where Americans generally stopped at. When we got there the house was
full and they could not let us in. Every room was engaged. But this