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happy, happy, union! O may I soon join the company of the redeemed"-is it not a foretaste of that blessedness which shall never end? When the patient uncomplaining spirit sees every pang to be directed by the hand of Love, and in the prospect of death itself, is enabled to say," thanks be to God that giveth us the victory through Jesus Christ our Lord"is it not a token that his presence is near while 'passing through the valley of the shadow of death?" That his rod and his staff are supplying comfort? Sure I am that "the Lord tells all these flittings;" that "he puts all these tears into his bottle;" that "all these things are noted in his book." Sure I am that "in all our afflictions he is afflicted." A very heathen was forced to say, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." And though the tears of Jesus fell on the tomb of Lazarus, it was there too that Jesus himself proclaimed, "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he that liveth and believeth on me, shall never die."

I think, my brethren, that the death of the saints is precious in the Lord's sight. First, Because He "seeth not as man seeth;" He judgeth not according to the appearance; He sees all things as they really are, not par.

tially; He traces the duration of his people, not upon the map of time, but upon the infinite scale of eternity; He weighs their happiness, not in the little balance of earthly enjoyment, but in the even and equipoised balance of the sanctuary. In the next place, I think the death of the saints is precious in the Lord's sight, because they are taken from the evil to come; they are delivered from the burden of the flesh; ransomed by the blood of the Redeemer, they are his purchased possession, and now he receives them to himself; sin and sorrow for ever cease; there is no more death, the death of Christ is their redemption; by death he overcame him that hath the power of death; therefore, they in him are enabled to say, "O death where is where is thy victory ?" the saints is precious in in it he often sees the very finest evidences of the work of his own Spirit upon the soul; he sees faith in opposition to sense, leaning upon the promise of God. Reposing upon him who is mighty to save, he sees hope even against hope, anchoring the soul secure and steadfast on him who is passed within the veil; he sees patience acquiescing to a Father's will-humility bending beneath his sovereign hand-love issuing from a grateful heart. Again, the

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thy sting? O grave Again, the death of the Lord's sight, for

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death of the saints is precious in the Lord's sight, as it draws out the tendernesses of surviving Christian friends, and is abundant in the thanksgivings of many an anxious heart; it elicits the sympathies of Christian charity, and realises that communion of saints, of which the Apostle speaks, when he says, "if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; if one rejoice they all joy." O! my friends, we should not deaden these kindnesses and courtesies of life; they are among the few alleviations of our fall; among the few of those relics which survive our ruin; which sweeten the bitter waters of society, and make us walk in the house of God as friends; we should cherish and not crush them; we should kindle and not extinguish them. The death of saints is precious, because the sympathy of prayer is poured forth from many a kindly Christian heart. When one is taken from our little circle, each turns in to think upon his own removal, and something of what the Lord's disciples felt is experienced-"Let us go, that we may also die with him." Nor is this all-the death of saints is precious, for that is their day of seeing Jesus face to face; "now we know in part, then shall we know him even as we are known." "To depart is to be with Christ; to be absent from the body is to be present

with the Lord;" and even this mortal corruptible body itself shall put on incorruption and immortality; yea, ; yea, "this vile body shall be fashioned like unto Christ's glorious body, according to the mighty working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself.”

That all shall die is evidently implied in the text before us, and corroborated by daily experience; and yet there is no truth which we are so slow to learn, none which we endeavour so sedulously to banish from our minds. We have just emerged from that bustling scene of traffic which yearly flows in upon us.* Every energy was drawn forth; hopes and fears were strongly excited in every breast; and yet amid all this hurry, we seem to have forgotten that "it is appointed unto men once to die." Oh! how insignificant all the profits and all the losses of life should appear to the Christian, when he reflects that soon will death turn him out of possession of the one, and that a treasure in heaven, that fadeth not away, awaits him, which can infinitely more than counterbalance the deficiency of the other he "What shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and lose his own soul; or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul ?"

* This alludes to the great fair of Ballinasloe, held on the fifth and three following days of the month of October each year.

Death is not only sure, but the uncertainty as to the time of its occurrence, to each individual, is a consideration too important to put away from us. How often does the man who is promising to himself length of days, and speculating how and where he may store his goods, find the awful sentence realised, "thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee?" how often does the unproductive tree, at a moment we are not aware, feel the stroke of that terrible decree, "cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground?" how often does the hand of God arrest some Herod in his impious career of self-glorying, when he bids his angel smite and his worms devour? There is not one here present who, if asked the question, Do you desire that your death should be precious in the sight of God? but would readily reply, I do; my natural love of self-preservation prompts it, my natural anxiety to escape impending ruin suggests it. But when told that the death of saints alone is precious in his sight, let the question, Am I, through the grace of God, of that happy number? be put, conscience hesitates at the answer. Some there are who naturally despise the very name, who treat it with scorn, and apply it in contempt. Oh! the malicious craftiness of Satan! he makes man to be his own enemy-he blinds