Here is the divine resting-place of faith at all times—the sure and safe haven for the soul amid the wreck of all human schemes and undertakings. Every thing goes to pieces in man’s hands, but God in Christ remains. Let man be set up in business again and again, under the most favorable circumstances, and he is sure to become a bankrupt; but God has set up Christ in resurrection, and all who believe in Him are placed on a new footing altogether—they are taken into partnership with the risen and glorified Head, and there they stand forever. That wondrous partnership can never be dissolved. All is secured on a basis that no power of earth or hell can ever touch. Reader, say, dost thou understand the application of all this to thyself? Hast thou discovered, in the light of God’s presence, that thou art, in very deed, a bankrupt? that thou hast made shipwreck of every thing? that thou hast not a single plea to urge? Hast thou been led to make a personal application of those two sentences upon which we have been dwelling, namely, “Doubtless thou shalt not,” and “Doubtless thou shalt”? Hast thou learnt the force of these words, “Thou hast destroyed thyself; but in Me is thy help”? In one word, hast thou come to Jesus as a lost, guilty, self-destroyed sinner, and found redemption, pardon, and peace in Him? Do pause, dear friend, and seriously consider these things. We can never lose sight of the weighty fact that we have something more to do than to write “Notes on the book of Numbers:” we have to consider the soul of the reader. We have a most solemn responsibility to discharge to him or to her; and therefore it is that, from time to time, we feel constrained to turn, for a moment, from the page on which we are meditating, in order to make an appeal to the heart and conscience of the reader, and entreat him, most earnestly, that if he be as yet unconverted, undecided, he would lay aside this volume, and apply his heart seriously to the great question of his present condition and eternal destiny. In comparison with this, all other questions dwindle into utter insignificance. What are all the schemes and undertakings which begin, continue, and end in time, when compared with eternity and the salvation of your never-dying soul? They are as the small dust of the balance. “What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” If you had the wealth of a Rothschild—the money-king, if you stood on the loftiest pinnacle of literary fame or political ambition, if your name were adorned with all the honors which the universities of this world could bestow, if your brow were wreathed with the laurels and your breast covered with the medals of a hundred victories, what would it profit you? You must leave all—you must pass through the narrow arch of time into the boundless ocean of eternity. Men of princely wealth, men of literary fame, men who have ruled by their intellectual power the House of Lords and Commons,