THE CLOSING BENEDICTION

"Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when He comes shall find watching." —Luke 12:37

Church of God! is this your attitude, as the expectant of your Lord's appearing? Are your loins girded, and your lights burning? If the cry were to break upon your ears this day, "Behold the Bridegroom comes," could you joyfully respond—"Lo, this is my God, I have waited for him"? WHEN He may come, we cannot tell—ages may elapse before then. It may be centuries before our graves are gilded with the beams of a Millennial sun; but while He may or may not come soon, He must come at some time—yes, and the day of our death is virtually to all of us, the day of His coming.

Reader! do not put off the solemn preparation. Do not be deceived or deluded with the mocker's presumptuous challenge, "Where is the promise of His coming?" See to it that the calls of an engrossing world does not foster this procrastinating spirit. It may be now or never with you. Do not put off your sowing time until harvest time. Leave nothing for a dying hour, but to die, and calmly to resign your spirit into the hands of Jesus. Of all times, that is the least suitable to attempt to get the vessel filled—to attend to the great business of life when life is ebbing—to trim the lamp when the oil is done and it is flickering in its socket—to begin to watch, when the summons is heard to leave the watchtower to meet our God!

Were you never struck how often, amid the many gentle words of Jesus, the summons "to watch," is over and over repeated, like a succession of alarm-bells breaking ever and anon, amid chimes of heavenly music, to rouse a sleeping Church and a slumbering world?

Let this last "Word" of your Lord's send you to your knees with the question—"Am I indeed a servant of Christ?" Have I fled to Him, and am I reposing in Him, as my only Savior?—or am I still lingering like Lot, when I should be escaping?—sleeping, when I should be waking?—neglecting and trifling, when "a long eternity is lying at my door?" He is my last and only refuge; neglect Him—all is lost!

Believer! you who are standing on your watchtower, be more faithful than ever at your post. Remember what is implied in watching. It is no dreamy state of inactive torpor: it is a holy jealousy over the heart—wakeful vigilance regarding sin—every avenue and loophole of the soul carefully guarded. Holy living is the best, the only, preparative for holy dying. "Persuade yourself," says Rutherford, "the King is coming. Read His letter sent before Him, 'Behold I come quickly;' wait with the wearied night-watch for the breaking of the Eastern sky."

Let these "Words of Jesus" we have now been meditating upon in this little volume, be as the Golden Bells of old, hung on the vestments of the officiating High Priest, emitting sweet sounds to His spiritual Israel—telling that the true High Priest is still living and pleading in "the Holiest of all;" and that soon He will come forth to pour His blessing on His waiting Church. We have been pleasingly employed in gathering, up a few "crumbs" falling, from "the Master's table." Soon we shall have, not the "Words" but the presence of Jesus—not the crumbs falling from His table, but everlasting fellowship with the Master Himself!

"Amen, even so, come, Lord Jesus."