Purified by suffering and repentance, their garments white as snow, they encircle the throne of their Saviour; and those whose lives below were those of toil and long suffering, are now among the blessed.
Shall we then weep for them, my friends?
Surely not.

Let us think of them, and follow in their paths, that our last end may be like theirs, that we may rejoin them, never again to part! "Are there any here who fear to die?
Are there any who shrink and tremble when they think they may be the next it may please the Lord to call?
My Christian brethren, think awhile, and such thoughts will cease to appal you.

To the heathen alone is death the evil spirit, the blackening shadow which, when called to mind, will poison his dearest joys! To us, brethren, what is it?
In pain it tells us of ease; in strife or tumult, that the grave is a place of quiet; in the weariness of exhausted spirits, that the end of all these things is at hand.

Who ever found perfect joy on earth?
Are we not restless, even in the midst of happiness?
Death tells us of a purer happiness, in which there is no weariness, no satiety.

When we look around on those we love, when we feel the blessings of affection, death tells us that we shall love them still better in heaven! Is death then so terrible?
Oh, let us think on it thus in life and health, and in the solitude and silence of our chamber such thoughts will not depart from us.