A great deal is made of the closing scene of a man’s life. Take, for instance, one who has lived to himself all through life; he is on his death-bed, we strain our ears to hear if we can, any word to give a glimmer of hope. He may have lived as he listed, and then at the close of life, when he is at the last gasp, and Death has him in his grip, friends lean over the pillow and question, “Are you trusting in Christ?” and if the whispered answer should be “Yes,” they are satisfied! Poor dying man! what else is left for him to do? Is such an act, at such a moment, real faith? If a house is on fire, and a man leaps from the second storey window, you do not say he is a good leaper. What else could he do? I do not mean to say that there may not be such a thing as a death-bed repentance, but a death-bed repentance can scarcely be called satisfactory. Tell me what a man’s _life_ has been—has it been spent in Christ’s service and to the glory of God?—and I care not _that_ whether he has any last words on his death-bed or not. Look at John the Baptist’s end. You do not find the account of many deathbeds in Scripture—the fact is, the great thing is how a man lives. Is Christ his life? Is holiness the result? Then will he lift up his head in joy whether in life or death. Look at that last scene in the life of John the Baptist. He had had a great and strong struggle. Read his life, my children. You like story-books; you will find this Book far more entertaining than you think for, as, for example, the story of the three children in the fire, Daniel in the lion’s den, and the story of the earthquake and shipwreck as told in the life of St. Paul. John was in prison, imprisoned by the king—(I pass over his uncompromising witness against sin). It is difficult to speak before the great; it is comparatively an easy thing for me to stand up here and say, My fellow sinner, thou art going to hell! “Come with us and we will do thee good.” * * * * *