Nevertheless, lest we should be exalted to pride and self-importance, let us remember that the grandeur of our destiny is not determined and measured by our merits, but by the immensity of the Divine goodness. What have we which we have not received? And since we have received it, why should we boast as if it were all of our own making? Ah, it is because Satan can compare our hopes with our rights, and can help us to do so too, that he succeeds in injecting doubts into our hearts. Our reply must be, that the eternal and blessed life which we anticipate is not of _reward_, but of _grace_; not a payment, but a gift--a gift in harmony with all God's other gifts, but still the greatest gift of all; and that instead of inflating us with pride, it may well place us at His feet in lowliest, devoutest thankfulness. By sin we had forfeited all; but "where sin hath abounded, grace doth much more abound." God loved the man whom He had created with such power, and whom He had placed in so commanding a position; and because He loved him, He resolved to provide a great redemption for him. What a ground have we here for hope! And what a plea for evangelisation! XVIII. _HEAVEN._ "Therefore are they before the throne of God."--Revelation vii. 15. Let us think of Heaven this morning. The verses of which the text is a fragment will help us to do so. The hope of heaven is the crowning hope of the Christian. It ought at all times to be an important element in his joy. All the pleasant things of earth should be made brighter by the reflected light of the world beyond the grave. It is common, however, for us to live in a sort of unconsciousness of this. Within proper limits this is not to be complained of. For our duties are _here_, and we are not fitted for there by "looking too eagerly beyond." Besides, earth is the training-school for heaven, and unless we would enter into heaven as into "a vast abrupt," obviously our present duty is by all means to cultivate that life which shall fit us for it. There are, however, certain lulls in the rush of life which seem to draw us to the contemplation of the future. We find them sometimes in seasons of repose, but more especially in seasons of sorrow, and more especially still in seasons of bereavement. I am not anxious to form an argument this morning. I have little disposition to _argue_ about heaven. But I want to express some thoughts, disjointed perhaps, but I trust suggestive, and each one carrying its message to our weary hearts.