nspring of most
lives; is it so in our own? When we come to look back at the last, we
shall find no pleasure in viewing our own selfishness or its fruits. We
shall not desire to retain it in our memories. We shall see that whatever
was done through selfish motives was time and energy lost.

When we look back, shall we see bitter words, unkind deeds, and
unfaithfulness to God and man? Shall we look back upon broken promises? on
friends who trusted us and were disappointed? Shall we look back upon
wrongs to our fellow men and sins toward God? It seems to me that the
keenest regrets that ever come to a soul on earth are the regrets that
come to him who, during his last hours on earth, has to view a misspent
life.

How many have said, "Oh, if I could live my life over!" Alas! that can not
be. My brother, my sister, you can live this day but once. You will look
back in time and eternity and see this day just as you lived it. Not only
today, but every day, when it is today, holds the same momentous
responsibility. Let us live today as faithful to God and man, as true,
pure, just, and kind as we shall in the last day wish we had lived. Do not
think that tomorrow you will live better, and be more kind and true and
gentle. Today is your day; tomorrow is out of your reach.

There was one of old who looked back over his life and summed it all up in
these words: "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity." He was rich and wise; he
was a mighty king, and had great honors; but he lacked that good
conscience that comes from a life well spent. He had not held back his
heart from the enjoyment of any pleasure. He had given free rein to his
desires. He had lived a life of ease and luxury. He had but to speak, and
he was obeyed. But, alas! when he looked back, there was nothing in the
scene to give him pleasure. It was only "vanity and vexation of spirit."

There was another man who looked back and who told us what he saw. His
circumstances were very different from those of the other. He was a
prisoner. In a little while the sword of the executioner would sever the
frail bond of life. He knew the time was near, and these are his words; "I
am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I
have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the
faith." His words are a shout of triumph; there is in them the exaltation
of final victory. There is no tinge of regret, there is no tear of sorrow.
What mattered it if h