urselves upon His bosom. It is our
sins God wants, not our tears only. They alone do no good. And we
cannot come through resolutions. Action is necessary. How many times
at church have we said, "I will turn over a new leaf," but the Monday
leaf is worse than the Saturday leaf.

The way to heaven is straight as a rule, but it is the way of the
cross. Don't try to get around it. Shall I tell you what the "yoke"
referred to in the text is? It is the cross which Christians must
bear. The only way by which you can find rest in this dark world is by
taking up the yoke of Christ. I do not know what it may include in
your case, beyond taking up your Christian duties, acknowledging
Christ and acting as becomes one of His disciples. Perhaps it may be
to erect a gamily altar; or to tell a godless husband that you have
made up your mind to serve God; or to tell your parents that you want
to be a Christian. Follow the will of God, and happiness and peace and
rest will come. The way of obedience is always the way of blessing.

I was preaching in Chicago to a hall full of women one Sunday
afternoon, and after the meeting was over a lady came to me and said
she wanted to talk to me. She said she would accept Christ, and after
some conversation she went home. I looked for her for a whole week,
but didn't see her until the following Sunday afternoon. She came and
sat down right in front of me, and her face had such a sad expression.
She seemed to have entered into the misery, instead of the joy, of the
Lord.

After the meeting was over I went to her and asked her what the
trouble was.

She said: "Oh, Mr. Moody, this has been the most miserable week of my
life."

I asked her if there was anyone with whom she had had trouble and whom
she could not forgive.

She said: "No, not that I know of."

"Well, did you tell your friends about having found the Savior?"

"Indeed I didn't, I have been all the week trying to keep it from
them."

"Well," I said, "that is the reason why you have no peace."

She wanted to take the crown, but did not want the cross. My friends,
you must go by the way of Calvary. If you ever get rest, you must get
it at the foot of the cross.

"Why," she said, "if I should go home and tell my infidel husband that
I had found Christ I don't know what he would do. I think he would
turn me out."

"Well," I said, "go out."

She went away, promising that she would tell him, timid and pale, but
she did not want a