ing opposite came over and spoke to the son. His flashy
manner of dress and the fact that he seemed to have been drinking
suggested the sort of man he was. He said to the son:

"Wasn't that Mr. So-and-so?"

"Yes," the son replied.

"Well," the man said, as though talking half to himself, "if there were
more men like him, there'd be fewer like me."

And he turned to his seat and sat as though absorbed in his thought. The
son, in speaking of it after his father's death, said it was one of the
tenderest memories he had of his father.

The common crowd on the street and our Lord Jesus are united in one
thing: they want _more men like Him_, Jesus our Saviour. Then there'd be
fewer of the other sort.

FOOTNOTES:

[64] Ruby T. Weyburn.

[65] Acts xv. 14-18.

[66] Ezekiel viii and ix.

[67] Rev. ii. 5.

[68] Rev. ii. 12-16.

[69] Rev. ii. 22, 23.

[70] Rev. iii. 3.

[71] Rev. iii. 16.

[72] Rev. ii. 7.

[73] Rev. ii. 11.

[74] Rev. ii. 17.

[75] Rev. ii. 26-28.

[76] Rev. xxii. 16.

[77] Rev. iii. 5.

[78] Rev. iii. 12.

[79] Rev. iii. 21.

[80] Rev. iii. 20, 21, with Jeremiah xiv. 8.

[81] Rev. v. 10.

[82] Psalm cxxxix.

V.--AN ADVANCE STEP IN THE ROYAL PROGRAMME

(Revelation, Chapters iv. and v.)

"We are watching, we are waiting,
For the bright prophetic day;
When the shadows, weary shadows,
From the world shall roll away.

"We are watching, we are waiting,
For the star that brings the day;
When the night of sin shall vanish,
And the shadows melt away.

"We are watching, we are waiting,
For the beauteous King of day;
For the chiefest of ten thousand,
For the Light, the Truth, the Way.

"We are waiting for the morning,
When the beauteous day is dawning,
We are waiting for the morning,
For the golden spires of day."[83]

A Look into Heaven.

Heaven is a place of intensest and tenderest interest to every one. It
is true that there is less emphasis on getting to heaven as a result of
being saved than there was a generation ago. Indeed, no emphasis at all.
The whole thought now is about our life here on the earth. We think less
about dying and more about living.

This is true. Yet every one of us has loved ones who have slipped from
our grasp, and gone from our midst. We think of them. The tenderest
memories brood over us, and come like a flood sometimes.

We may have the sweet sense of assurance that these loved ones are
sav