A land of darkness.  What is to be your destiny?  A land of light.  Who got you out?  Christ, the Lord.  Can you sit so placidly and unmoved while all heaven comes to your soul with congratulation, and harps are strung, and crowns are lifted, and a great joy swings round the heavens at the news of your disinthrallment?  If you could realize out of what a pit you have been dug, to what height you are to be raised, and to what glory you are destined, you would spring to your feet with “Hosanna!”

In 1808 there was a meeting of the emperors of France and Russia at Erfurt.  There were distinguished men there also from other lands.  It was so arranged that when any of the emperors arrived at the door of the reception-room, the drum should beat three times; but when a lesser dignitary should come, then the drum would sound but twice.  After awhile the people in the audience-chamber heard two taps of the drum.  They said:  “A prince is coming.”  But after awhile there were three taps, and they cried:  “The emperor!” Oh, there is a more glorious arrival at your soul to-night!  The drum beats twice at the coming in of the lesser joys and congratulations of your soul; but it beats once, twice, thrice at the coming in of a glorious King—­Jesus the Saviour, Jesus the God!  I congratulate you.  All are yours—­things present and things to come.

II.  I come now to speak of the second division—­those who are seeking; some of you with more earnestness, some of you with less earnestness.  But I believe that to-night, if I should ask all those who wish to find the way to heaven to rise, and the world did not scoff at you, and your own proud heart did not keep you down, there would be a thousand souls who would cry out as they rose up:  “Show me the way to heaven!” That young man who smiled to the one next to him, as though he cared for none of these things, would be on his knees crying for mercy.  Why this anxious look?  Why this deep disquietude in the soul?  Why, at the beginning of this service, did you do what you have not done for years—­bow your head in prayer?  You are seeking.

“I am a gambler,” says one man.  There is mercy for you.  “I am a libertine,” says another.  There is mercy for you.  “I have plunged into every abomination.”  Mercy for you.  The door of grace does not stand ajar to-night, nor half swung around on the hinges.  It is wide, wide open; and there is nothing in the Bible, or in Christ, or God, or earth, or heaven, or hell, to keep you out of the door of safety, if you want to go in.  Christ has borne your burdens, fought your battles, suffered for your sins.  The debt is paid, and the receipt is handed to you, written in the blood of the Son of God—­will you have it?  Oh, decide the matter now!  Decide it here!  Fling your exhausted soul down at the feet of an all-compassionate, all-sympathizing, all-pitying, all-pardoning Jesus.  The laceration on His brow, the gash in His side, the torn muscles and nerves of His feet beg you to come.