4.  There are not a few young communicants here to-night, as well as not a few who are afraid as yet to offer themselves for the Lord’s table; and, as it so falls out to-night, Mercy’s case contains both an encouragement and an example to all such.  For never surely had a young communicant less to go upon than Mercy had that best morning of all her life.  For she had nothing to go upon but a great desire to help Christiana with her work; some desire for truth and for life; and some first and feeble yearnings over her own soul,—­yearnings, however, that she kept entirely to herself.  That was all.  She had no remorses like those which had ploughed up Christiana’s cheeks into such channels of tears.  She had no dark past out of which swarms of hornets stung her guilty conscience.  Nor on the other hand, had she any such sweet dreams and inviting visions as those that were sent to cheer and encourage the disconsolate widow.  She will have her own sweet dreams yet, that will make her laugh loud out in her sleep.  But that will be long after this, when she has discovered how hard her heart is and how great God’s grace is.  “How shall I be ascertained,” she put it to Christiana, “that I also shall be entertained?  Had I but this hope, from one that can tell, I would make no stick at all, but would go, being helped by Him that can help, though the way was never so tedious.  Had I as good hope for a loving reception as you have, I think no Slough of Despond would discourage me.”  “Well,” said the other, “you know your sore, and I know mine; and, good friend, we shall all have enough evil before we come to our journey’s end.”  And soon after that, of all places on the upward way, Mercy’s evil began at the Wicket Gate.  “I have a companion,” said Christiana, “that stands without.  One that is much dejected in her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without sending for; whereas I was sent to by my husband’s King.”  So the porter opened the gate and looked out; but Mercy was fallen down in a swoon, for she fainted and was afraid that the gate would not be opened to her.  “O sir,” she said, “I am faint; there is scarce life left in me.”  But he answered her that one once said, “When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came in into Thee, into Thy holy temple.  Fear not, but stand up upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come.”  “I am come, sir, into that for which I never was invited, as my friend Christiana was.  Her invitation was from the Lord, and mine was but from her.  Wherefore, I fear that I presume.”  Then said he to those that stood by, “Fetch something and give it to Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting.”  So they fetched her a bundle of myrrh, and a while after she revived.—­Let young communicants be content with Mercy’s invitation.  She started for the City just because she liked to be beside a good woman who was starting thither.  She wished to help a good woman who was going thither; and just