done.  The persons to be helped are perhaps inmates of our dwelling; they are our relations:  they are sick or dying; or they have cast themselves upon our aid.  But we let the moment pass.  The work given us is not done.  We have neglected it from sloth, procrastination, thoughtlessness, or selfishness.  And we may become awake to our culpable negligence, and rouse ourselves to duty.  But, alas! those whom we could have aided are past help.  They are dead, or are removed from our influence, or in some way “past remedy.”  And so the moment in life given us is gone, and gone for ever, except to meet us and to accuse us before the bar of God.  And thus it is with duty in countless forms.  What our hands find to do must be done quickly, if done at all, and in the time given us.  If not, a night comes, and may come soon and come suddenly, in which either we ourselves cannot work, or in which, though at last willing to do it, it is no longer given us to do.

But there is one moment in life—­and I conclude by suggesting it to your thoughts—­which must come to every man, and which generally comes with signs sufficiently significant of its importance,—­I mean the last moment which closes our life on earth.  Come it must.  And, as an old writer remarks, “the day we die, though of no importance to the world, is to ourselves of more importance than is all the world.”  That moment in life ends time to us, and begins eternity; it ends our day of grace and begins the day of judgment; it separates us from the world in which we have lived since we were born, and introduces us to the unseen, unknown world of things and persons in which we must live for ever during the life of God.  What a moment is this!  It may come in the quiet of our own chamber, or amidst the confusion and excitement of some dread accident by land or sea; it may be heralded by long sickness or old age, and accompanied by much weakness and bodily suffering.  But if that moment, when it comes, is to bring us peace, let our present moments, as they come, find us watchful, conscientious, believing, and prayerful.  And should these words of mine be read by chance by one who has begun his last moment without having begun the work for which he was created, preserved, and redeemed, let me beseech of him to improve it by repentance towards God, and faith in Jesus Christ, who will pardon his sins, give him a new heart, and save him as he did the thief on the cross.  If every hour of his day of grace has been misimproved, let not this last be added to the number.  If he has stood all the day idle, let him in the eleventh hour accept his Master’s work of faith alone in his own soul, and do what he can for the good of others.  But let this moment in life pass, then shall the next moment after death bring only fear and anguish; for, be warned and also encouraged by the words of the truthful and loving Jesus, uttered with many tears, over lost souls,—­“If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things that belong unto thy peace; but now they are for ever hid from thine eyes!”