ompanions, or from its young. The shepherd would say,
"You cannot all pass together; leave your companions and the young to
me; I will restore them to you on the other side." He might also
remonstrate and say, "Am I not, as their shepherd, interested in
protecting and removing them? You can add nothing to my strength and
wisdom; let me take you safety through the valley, and trust me to do
the same for them."

The ancient shepherd was specially careful of the lambs; he carried them
in his arms, and sometimes folded them beneath his shepherd's coat. We
can imagine the feelings of some of a flock when, leaving them at a
short distance, but within sight, the shepherd would take a lamb, carry
it down into the valley, and disappear with it for a little while. With
all their confidence in their shepherd, some of the flock would manifest
uneasiness at the separation, 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 w