especially if the valley looked dark and dangerous.  If it were the only lamb of its mother, it was natural for that mother to be distressed, and to lament.  Though the young creature had gone safely to the other side, and was at play in the new pasture, and the mother believed it, this could not always quiet her.  The good Shepherd has taken some of our lambs through the valley.  They are safe upon the other side.  They have joined the flock of Christ.  Let us give our lambs to the Shepherd’s care, to bear them through the valley, whenever he sees fit that they should be removed.  We must all pass through that valley.  If, from special love to our young, he will see them safely on the other side before he calls for us, we will intrust them to Him who claims our confidence by saying to us, I am the Good Shepherd.  One of the prophecies concerning Christ reveals that tender love and care, on his part, for children, which characterized him while on earth:  “He shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom.”

The fear of death is owing, in many cases, to the dread of dissolution.

The previous sickness prepares the soul and the body for their separation, so that, in very many cases, it is the greatest relief to die.  We are, perhaps, mistaken if we suppose that those Christians who are in great bodily pain in their last hours, suffer in mind.  The effects of death on the frame do not necessarily disturb the tranquillity of the soul.  The body may be in spasms while the soul is at peace; and the reverse is true;—­as in nightmare, when the mind is distressed while the body sleeps.  A Christian has nothing to fear in this respect.  To die will not be—­as in full health we suppose it is—­a violent rending asunder of the soul from the unyielding grasp of the body; but the preparation of the mortal frame for dissolution, by the sickness, however rapid, also fits the mind for the event.  Even in cases of death by accidents, this appears to be true.

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But many feel that to die is to be transferred suddenly, and with violence, into strange scenes, which must overwhelm and distract the senses.  It seems to them that it must be like being whirled instantly into a distant, unknown city, and waking up amidst the confusion and strangeness of that place.  We cannot believe that such is the experience of dying Christians.  It would rather seem that there is, at first, a perception of spiritual forms, of ministering spirits, whispering peace to the soul, and assuring it of safety, and bidding it fear not.  It is said of angels, “Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?” When can we need their ministry more, than in the passage from this world to the world of spirits?  Perhaps the disclosure is made of some departed friends; and the fancy of those who thought that they saw beloved ones beckoning them away, may have had its foundation in truth.  There is much of probability in that well-known piece, “The dying Christian’s address to his soul;”—­and no part of it is more probable than this:—­