But, beloved, there is another thing of which we can sing yet more sweetly; and that is, we can sing of the day that is to come.  I am preaching to-night for the poor weavers of Spitalfields.  Perhaps there are not to be found a class of men in London who are suffering a darker night than they are; for while many classes have been befriended and defended, there are few who speak up for them, and (if I am rightly informed) they are generally ground down within an inch of their lives.  I suppose that their masters intend that their bread shall be very sweet, on the principle, that the nearer the ground, the sweeter the grass; for I should think that no people have their grass so near the ground as the weavers of Spitalfields.  In an inquiry by the House of Commons last week, it was given in evidence that their average wages amount to seven or eight shillings a week; and that they have to furnish themselves with a room, and work at expensive articles, which my friends and ladies are wearing now, and which they buy as cheaply as possible; but perhaps they do not know that they are made with the blood and bones and marrow of the Spitalfields weavers, who, many of them, work for less than man ought to have to subsist upon.  Some of them waited upon me the other day; I was exceedingly pleased with one of them.  He said, “Well, sir, it is very hard, but I hope there is better times coming for us.”  “Well, my friend,” I said, “I am afraid you cannot hope for much better times, unless the Lord Jesus Christ comes a second time.”  “That is just what we hope for,” said he.  “We do not see there is any chance of deliverance, unless the Lord Jesus Christ comes to establish His kingdom upon the earth; and then He will judge the opprest, and break the oppressors in pieces with an iron rod, and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.”  I was glad my friend had got a song in the night, and was singing about the morning that was coming.  Often do I cheer myself with the thought of the coming of the Lord.  We preach now, perhaps, with little success; “the kingdoms of this world” are not “become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ”; we send out missionaries; they are for the most part unsuccessful.  We are laboring, but we do not see the fruits of our labors.  Well, what then?  Try a little while; we shall not always labor in vain, or spend our strength for naught.  A day is coming, and now is, when every minister of Christ shall speak with unction, when all the servants of God shall preach with power, and when colossal systems of heathenism shall be scattered to the winds.  The shout shall be heard, “Alleluia!  Alleluia! the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.”  For that day do I look; it is to the bright horizon of that second coming that I turn my eyes.  My anxious expectation is, that the sweet Sun of righteousness will arise with healing beneath His wings, that the opprest shall be righted, that despotisms shall be cut down, that liberty shall be established, that peace shall be made lasting, and that the glorious liberty of the gospel shall be extended throughout the known world.  Christian! if thou art in a night, think of the morrow; cheer up thy heart with the thought of the coming of thy Lord.