Such is the night of the believer; and therefore it appears only to deserve the name of night because it is the close of this world’s working season. Angels, not men, do the work of heaven; and they are sent forth to minister to them that shall be heirs of salvation. But to the believer, the characteristic of the heavenly state is rest. The interval between death and the resurrection is a period of holy, happy, peaceful, intelligent rest. “They rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.” When the late lamented Bishop Weeks was entering on his most laborious mission at Lambeth, and when it was remarked to him that he would have hard work to carry out his plans, his reply was,—“But there will be plenty of rest at the end.” It is well to dwell on that blessed hope of rest; it is well, when the heart grows weary, to know that there is repose in prospect. That, however, is not the great lesson to be learned, but rather this. If that be the time for rest, then this is the day for work; and we must all make haste to seize the opportunity in its rapid flight. I remember to have seen a card in the study of a friend, on which it was written, “Lost between the hours of sunrise and sunset a golden hour, set in sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for their recovery, for they are lost for ever.” Oh, let not the precious time which God has given us be lost, but rather at the close of each day let us each one put the question, and put it honestly—What has been done this day for God? I had the great privilege of visiting the late Mrs. Fry in her dying illness, and she then said to me, “I believe I can safely say that, since the time of my conversion, my first thought on awaking has been, what can I do this day for God?” Would that all of us lived in such a spirit, with a more constant thoughtfulness for our Master’s service! For is it possible to imagine anything more deeply affecting, than to see a man at the close of life with no effort made for Him who has redeemed him by his blood? There he is with his race nearly run, and his opportunity almost over. He has passed through life with time and talents; with friends, servants, children, under his influence, and now what has he done? He may have made his fortune, acquired a reputation, and filled his home with comforts; he may have done well for himself, and perhaps done well for his family; but for his God, for his blessed Lord who has done all for him, who has shed his own most precious blood that his sins might be blotted out—for Him he has done nothing. His day is almost over, and he has spent it for himself; his life is nearly run out, and he has lived it for himself. And now he is about to lie down and die; but still all in himself, with his hope in himself, his strength in himself; and that hope all vanity, that strength all weakness.