From the noise, splendor, and mirth of the ball-room, they must pass to the silence, gloom and grief, of the chamber of death. The giddy, vain, perhaps, scoffing circle of revellers, must be exchanged for the anxious, sorrowful, weeping company of relatives and friends. The showy finery of the ball dress, must be replaced by the winding sheet and the grave cloths. That form which under the tutoring hand of art, moved with such grace, through all the evolutions of the dance, must lie icy cold in the embrace of death. Then they will have done with earthly things. No music with its dulcet notes will wake the echoes of the dreary caverns of the dead; no jovial companions will relieve the dullness of the grave; no dance will fill the void of slow revolving ages. The worm will feed on them sweetly there, and their souls will receive according to the deeds done in the body. When this event arrives the votaries of pleasure will turn pale with terror. They will beg for life. The absorbing inquiry will be "What must I do to be saved?" But then, oh! how horrible the thought--it may be too late. Unconverted sinner flee these scenes of guilty pleasures as the Gates of Perdition. Prepare without delay to meet thy God. Let the golden moments of life's short day, be consecrated to Prayer, to Repentance, and to Faith in Jesus. Then, too, mayest thou ascend at death, to that bright and better world, where the Saints forever reign, and where from before the light of God's countenance, sin, darkness and sorrow, flee away, and where the soul is filled with a joy unspeakable and full of glory.