loth to leave it on that account? But is not heaven fairer and brighter far? Here there is night; but there none. Here deformity alternates with beauty; but there all is loveliness. Here the alloy prevails; there, there is no mixture-all is pure. Can it be possible that earth has charms and attractions equal to those of heaven-this earth, which the curse has lighted on, comparable in point of beauty and loveliness to that heaven where God manifests himself, and which Jesus has gone to prepare as the fit habitation and eternal home of his redeemed? Is it conceivable? Even the saints who lived under a darker dispensation esteemed the heavenly a better country. Is it the separations which death makes, that render us so averse to die? True, it separates, but it unites also. It takes us, I know, from many we love, but it takes us to as many we love. Leave we a family behind? But do we not go to one larger, more harmonious, happier? Are we parted from friends by death? And are we not joined to friends by the same? If we lose a father, do we not find a better father; and if we leave a dear brother, do we not go to one who " is not ashamed to call us brethren " More than half of some families have gone already to heaven. Why should we be so much more desirous of continuing with the part on earth, than of going to the portion in heaven? Do those you part from need your care and services more than those to whom you go? But is it not safe going, and leav

ing them, in charge of God? Is it not he now who cares for them, and watches over them, provides for them, and defends them? And will he not do it when you are dead and gone? Ah, the parent clings to life, and looks imploringly on death, when he thinks of his loved little ones! What will become of them he asks? What would become of them now, if they had only you to care for them? It is not your eye that keeps watch over them; nor your arm that is put underneath and round about them; nor your hand from whose opening palm their wants are supplied. It is God's. And what he does by you now, cannot he do without you? Cannot he find other agents and instruments when you are laid aside? Does he not say of the widows and fatherless children, " leave them to me?" And will he not be faithful to the trust which he solicits?

Do not children desire to see the face of their fa ther? And are not we children of God? After so many years of daily converse and communion with him, and after receiving so many tokens of his paternal regard, should you not be willing to go now and see him face to face, whose unseen hand has led, sustained and supplied you hitherto? It is unnatural in us not to be willing to go to God. We readily go to those we love.

Has home no charm? What man is he, to whom at has not a charm? Who has been long absent from it, and does not languish with desire to reach it?

But where is home thy father's house? It is not here. It is beyond the flood. Earth is not home. Heaven is home. Living is not being at home. Dy. ing is going home. We must die to reach our father's house. And yet we are reluctant to die!

Do you dread the way? Do you tremble at the hought of the valley of the shadow of death? What, when you are sure of such company as that of Jesus? Will you fear with him at your side? Do not talk of the cold arms of death. Think rather of the warm embrace of Jesus. Does he not say he will come for you? "If I go.... I will come again, and receive you unto myself." Angels may minister to the saints on common occasions, but when a Christian dies, Jesus himself attends.

But death has a sting. You mean he had one. To those who believe in Jesus, no sting of death remains.

Fear you the consequences of dying? Does the thought of the presence into which you are to go appal you? But you have often been into that presence in prayer-you have appeared already before God on his mercy seat, and then you have wished the veil away. Why then so unwilling that death should withdraw it? Were you not gladdened by those transient glimpses of his glory which you saw? And dread you now the full and fixed gaze of his glory? Have you not often sighed for those brighter views, and those nearer and clearer discoveries which death will afford you?

Surely it cannot be the judgment you fear. What, when you are "accepted in the beloved!" If accept ed in yourself, you should not fear. How much less, when accepted in him! If God would honor your own righteousness, had you a righteousness of your own, will he not much more honor Christ's righteousness, now become yours? What if you cannot answer for yourself! Cannot he answer for you? But who is the judge? Is it not Jesus, your advocate? Will your advocate condemn you ? Are you afraid to meet your Savior? He that summons you to judgment, is the same that said "Come unto me, and I will give you rest." Would you live always? I know you would not. But you would live longer, perhaps you say, for the sake of being useful to others. But who knows that you may not be more useful in heaven? Who can say but your death may do more good than your life? Besides, if God can dispense with your services, should you not be willing to have them arrested?

Do you not desire to be freed from all sin? But know you not that only he "that is dead is freed from sin?" If you cannot be perfectly holy until you die, ought you to be so unwilling to die? Is your desire of perfect holiness sincere, while you are so averse to the condition of it?

45. Heaven's Attractions.

I have been thinking of the attractions of heavenwhat there is in heaven to draw souls to it. I thought of the place. Heaven has place. Christ says to his disciples, "I go to prepare a place for you." It is a part of the consolation with which he comforts then, that heaven is a place, and not a mere state. What a place it must be! Selected out of all the locations of the universe the chosen spot of space. We see, even on earth, places of great beauty, and we can conceive of spots far more delightful than any we see. But what comparison can these bear to heaven, where every thing exceeds whatever eye has seen or imagination conceived? The earthly paradise must have been a charming spot, But what that to the heavenly? What the paradise assigned to the first Adam, who was of the earth, earthy, compared with that purchased by the second Adam, who is the Lord from heaven? It is a "purchased possession." The price it cost the purchaser every one knows. Now, having purchased it, he has gone to prepare it to set it in order to lay out his skill upon it. O what a place Jesus will make has already made heaven! The place should attract us.

Then I thought of the freedom of the place from the evils of earth. Not only what is in heaven, should attract us to it, but what is not there. And what is not there? There is no night there. Who