to sleep you are saved?" It is because you have received the English shilling. That man was his own master, but he said, "I want to enlist in Queen Victoria's service;" and the moment he received that shilling he was no longer his own. By receiving it he became a soldier. I could not have a better illustration than that. Have you got tired of the service of sin and the devil? Do you want to change masters? Do you want to enlist in my Master's cause? If you do, receive him and enlist in his cause, and you are his for time and eternity. Is there any one here now who will receive him? Will you say, in the depth of your heart, "By the grace of God we will receive him." Is there one here who will receive him? Is there one solitary one here in this vast assembly who will take him? [A voice, "Yes, I will."] Is there another? Thank God for that! [Another, "I will."] I remember asking that question in Manchester, and a man burst into tears and said, "I want to." I said, "You must make up your mind you will.” In a few minutes he cried out, "I will." I said "Is there another?" A little voice came down from the third gallery. It sounded like the voice of an angel, and in her childish manner she said, "I will." Is there not some little child here to-night who will receive Jesus? He wants you. Don't you want to take him? Will you receive him to-night? Will you be followers of the Lamb to-night? Will you take the gift to-night? If it is a gift, it is instantaneous. [A lady rose and said, "I will."] I do not see why you should not receive him here to-night.

I do not know any better illustration of receiving Christ than matrimony. Jeremiah, in speaking of backsliders, says: “Turn, O backsliding children, saith the Lord, for I am married unto you." Christ represents himself as the bridegroom and the Church as the bride. The apostle Paul writes, "What the husband is to the wife Christ is to the Church." In Revelation we read: "Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb." We cannot have a better illustration. Here is a lady to whom a man has offered himself in marriage; she must receive or reject the offer. I want to get a bride for my Master. I want to see if some one here will be a spouse.. "He came unto his own, and his own received him

not.

But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God." To them that received him. Cannot you receive him to-night? Is there not some one here who wants to become a spouse to Christ to-night? he wants you. Is it not a wonderful thing that the Prince of Glory should come from heaven and offer himself to poor sinners like us? Will not you have him in your heart? Young man, will not you have him? Oh, I would to God every soul in this building out of Christ would receive him now! "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." You have not to wait another moment. "Ah," says one, "I imagine I have to work for him." Your works will go for nought. "Jesus

answered and said unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent." Another verse says: "But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness."

When the Ville de Havre was sinking they took out all the passengers, and then tried to save the vessel, but it was doomed to go down. At last they gave up the work as hopeless. Another boat came along-side, and the officers and crew were urged to leave the sinking ship, and get into this vessel. They did, and were all brought ashore. This world is a wrecked vessel; every moment it is sinking. Up comes a life-boat. The captain shouts, "Moody, jump into the life-boat." I jump. One moment I am here; the next moment I am in the life-boat. It is the life-boat that saves

me.

Christ is the life-boat; he comes to every perishing soul. He says: "Trust me; I will carry you in my arms to the kingdom of God." Cannot you trust him to-night, sinner? That is the question. Pause a moment, and think what you will do. Will you be saved to-night; or will you spurn this offer of mercy? I like to have people stop and think. The question is: What are you going to do? Will you be saved? Young lady, what are you going to do to-night with Christ? Young man, what will you do with him? He is the lifeboat for you and me. Shall this blessed Week of Prayer close, and leave you out of the ark? What a week it has been. Perhaps more prayer has been offered in America this week, than in any other week in the history of the country. Many hearts have gone up in prayer for your salvation. Are you going to let this meeting close, and leave you without hope? What are you going to do? I do not know what more I can say; I do not know as I can make it any plainer. Perhaps I had better stop here. Will you not have him to-night? Will you not trust him to-night for salvation? Just

think.

While the voice of man is hushed, pause and see if you will not hear the voice of God speaking to you; if you will not hear the still, small voice of Jesus calling you to himself. Hark! What does he say: "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your soul." Don't you want rest? you will find it in Christ. My yoke is easy and my burden is light." Hear the blessed words of Jesus to-night, and may they sink down deep into your soul. May they prevent you going out of this hall to-night unsaved. Do not you realize that God is in this meeting to-night? Do not you feel that you are in the atmosphere of prayer?

Jesus is in our assembly to-night; and now while he is here, while be is calling you to himself, will you not come to the ark? "Behold

I stand at the door and knock." Does a heart throb? That is Christ knocking. "I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." Will you let him in to-night, dear friends? Will you unlock the door of your heart? Pull back those rusty bolts and say, "Welcome, thrice welcome into this heart." May God help you this night to be wise for eternity, and receive Jesus Christ as your Savior. Bow your heads, in silent prayer, and ask the Lord what he will have you to do.

THE PRODIGAL SON.

"I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee." LUKE 15: 18.

We have for our subject to-night "The Prodigal Son." Perhaps there is not any portion of Scripture that this audience is so familiar with as this fifteenth chapter of Luke. These boys down here in the audience can tell the story as well as I can. All the Sabbathschool children know this chapter as well as I do. In the second verse we are told why Christ described this beautiful picture. The Pharisees and scribes were murmuring, and they said, "This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them." They told the truth for An angel from heaven could not have told the truth plainer than they did when they said, "This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them." That is what he came into the world for. And while they were complaining, he went on and gave us three parables: the parable of the lost sheep; the lost piece of money; and the lost

once.

son.

This young man, the prodigal son, started wrong that was the trouble with him. He was like hundreds and thousands of young men in our cities to-day, who have got a false idea of life: and when a man has a false idea of life, it is very hard for his father or mother or any of his friends to do anything with him. I do not know where his mother was. Perhaps he had sent her to the grave with a broken heart. The Lord did not speak of his mother; if she had been living, he would have referred to her. The father is to be censured; we cannot help but blame the father. When the son said, "Father, divide, and give me my portion," the father should have said: "You show a bad spirit. I will let you go without your portion." A great

n.any fathers make that mistake now. I do not think the father could have done a greater unkindness to the boy than to give him his goods and money, and let him go. It showed a contemptible spirit in the boy when he came to his father and said, "Divide: give me my portion and let me go." He wanted to go away from his father's prayers and influence, and get into a foreign land, where he could go on as he pleased, where he could run riot and plunge into all kinds of sin, and where there was no restraint. And that indulgent father gratified his wish, and divided his goods with him. And not many days after he went around to his old companions and bade them all good-bye, and went off to a foreign country, perhaps to Egypt. While he was there his family must have heard from him, because the eldest brother said: "This brother hath spent all with harlots, and thou hast killed for him the fatted calf."

Undoubtedly, the first time they heard from him they heard bad news. I can see him going away very proud: you might as well talk to an iron post as to talk to him now. He is full of conceit and false ideas. He is going to get on without his father or any help from his friends; he will have no trouble, in his own mind. But the very first thing we hear of him is, he is in bad company. I never knew a young man who treated his father unkindly but would go right off into bad company. He got into that far country, and now we hear of him going on in all kinds of vice. Undoubtedly, if they had theatres in those days, and I do not doubt but they had, he would be in the theatre every night in the week. We would find him in the billiard hall and the drinking saloon. We do find him in the ways of those whose feet take hold on hell. He was a popular young man; he had plenty of money, and his money was popular. He was a grand companion for the young men in that far country; they liked his society. I do not know how long he had been there; but I do not suppose it was more than five years, and perhaps not more than three years. It does not take long for a young man to go to ruin when he gets in among thieves and harlots: that is about the quickest way down to hell. At last his money is gone, and now his friends begin to drop off, one after another. He is not quite so popular as he was when he had plenty of money. He is getting a little shabby; his clothes are not so good as they were. He had a good wardrobe; but now he goes to the pawn-shop, and he pawns his overcoat. I have seen a good many such young men in Philadelphia. I think his overcoat is gone for strong drink; and one thing after another soon goes. He might have had some gift which his mother gave him when she was dying, and at last that goes; and yet he does not come to himself.

The very first thing he did do that I like to commend was, that he joined himself to a citizen of that country to find some work to do. That is the noblest thing he did. There is some hope for a man when

he is willing to go to work. I have more hope for the gambler, the harlot, the drunkard, and for any class of people, than I have for a lazy man. I never knew a lazy man to be converted yet. The prodigal started to get some work to do, even if it was to feed swine. That is the lowest occupation a Jew could be engaged in. He joined himself to a citizen of that country and fed swine; and he would have eaten the husks if he could have got them. No man gave him even husks. This wealthy man's son, who was brought up amid good influences and surroundings, is now living in that foreign country like a man who had never seen a decent home. Now, just for a moment think what that man lost in all these years. He lost his home; he had no home. His friends, when he had money, might have invited him around to their homes; but it is no home for him. There was no loving home. There is not a prodigal upon the face of the earth but has lost his home. You may live in a gilded palace; but if God is not there, it is no home. If your conscience is lashing you, it is no home. He lost his food; his father's table did not go to that country. He would have fed on the husks that the swine did eat; but no one gave unto him. This world cannot satisfy the soul. Then he lost his testimony. I can imagine some of the young men of that country saw him among the swine, feeding them and taking the place of a shepherd's dog among them; and they said: "Look at that poor wretched young man, with no shoes on his feet, and with such shabby garments." They looked at him and called him a beggar, and pointed the finger of scorn at him. He said: "You need not call me a beggar; my father is a wealthy man." They said, "Your father a wealthy man?" "Yes." "You look like a wealthy man's son." There was not a man believed him, when he said he was a wealthy man's son. His testimony was gone; no one would believe him. So when a man goes in the service of the devil, he sinks lower and lower; and it is not long before every one loses confidence in him. One sin leads on to another. His testimony is gone. But there is one thing he did not lose, and if there is a poor backslider here to-night, there is one thing you have not lost. That young man never lost his father's love. I can imagine one of his father's neighbors has met him in that place, and says to him: "My boy, I have just come from your home; your father wants you to go home." I can imagine the young man said: "Did my father speak of me? I thought he had forgotten me." "Why," says the man, "he don't think of anything else; he thinks of you day and night. Do you think he has forgotten you? No, never. He cannot forget you; he loves you too well for that." He didn't yet come to himself; there he is.

But one day, I can see him, he gets a-thinking. It is a good thing to stop and think. I wish we could get some of the men in Philadelphia to think where they are, and what is going to be the end of