go in the
day-time, it may be in the night. Suddenly the event will rush upon
you, and you will be gone. Where? If a Christian--into joy. If not a
Christian--into suffering.

The Gospel call stops outside of the door of the sepulcher. The
sleeper within can not hear it. If that call should be sounded out
with clarion voice louder than ever rang through the air, that sleeper
could not hear it. I suppose every hour of the day, and now, while I
am speaking, there are souls rushing into eternity unprepared. They
slide from the pillow, or they slip from the pavement, and in an
eye-twinkling they are gone. Elegant and eloquent funeral oration will
not do them any good. Epitaph, cut on polished Scotch granite, will
not do them any good. Wailing of beloved kindred can not call them
back.

But, says some one: "I'll keep out of peril; I will not go on the sea,
I will not go into battle--I'll keep out of all danger." That is no
defense. Thousands of people, last night, on their couches, with the
front door locked, and no armed assassin anywhere around, surrounded
by all defended circumstances, slipped out of this life into the
next. If time had been on one side of the shuttle and eternity on the
other side of the shuttle, they could not have shot quicker across it.
A man was saying: "My father was lost at sea, and my grandfather, and
my great-grandfather. Wasn't it strange?" A man, talking to him, said:
"You ought never to venture on the sea, lest you, yourself, be lost at
sea." The man turned to the other, and said: "Where did your father
die?" He replied: "In his bed." "Where did your grandfather die?" "In
his bed." "Where did your great-grandfather die?" "In his bed."
"Then," he said, "be careful, lest some night, while you are asleep on
your couch, your time may come!"

Death alone is sure. Suddenly, you and I will go out of life. I am not
saying anything to your soul that I am not going to say to my own
soul. We have got to go suddenly out of this life. If I am prepared
for that change, I do not care where my body is taken from--at what
point I am taken out of this life. If I am ready, all is well. If I am
not ready, though I might be at home, and though my loved ones might
be standing around me, and though there might be the best surgical and
medical ability in the room, I tell you, if I were not prepared, I
would be frightened more than tongue can tell. It may seem like
cowardice, but I am not ashamed to say that I shou