self. God gives him a body of perfect beauty, and furnishes
him with wings, with which he can fly from world to world. God is his
approving Father. Angels are his beloved friends. You often, in a
clear evening, look up upon the distant stars, and wonder who
inhabits them. You think, if you had the wings of an eagle, you would
love to fly up there, and make a visit. Now, it is not improbable
that the Christian, in heaven, can pass from star to star, as you can
go from house to house in your own neighborhood. The very thought is
enrapturing. If every hour of our lives were spent in sorrow, it
would be nothing, compared with the joys which God has promised his
friends at his right hand. When we think of the green pastures of
heaven; of the still waters of that happy world; when we think of
mingling with the angels in their flight; of uniting our voices with
theirs in songs of praise; of gazing upon all the glories and sharing
all the rapture of the heavenly world--O, how tame do the joys of
earth appear!

Some children, however, think that they can put off becoming
Christians till a dying hour, and then repent and be saved. Even if
you could do this, it would be at the loss of much usefulness and much
happiness. But the fact is, you are never curtain of a moment of life.
You are little aware of the dangers to which you are continually
exposed.

"The rising morning can't assure,
That we shall spend the day;
For death stands ready at the door,
To snatch our lives away."

We are reminded of the uncertainty of life, by the accidents which are
every day occurring. Often, when we least suspect it, we are in the
most imminent hazard of our lives. When I was a boy, I one day went a
gunning. I was to call for another boy, who lived at a little distance
from my father's. Having loaded my gun with a heavy charge of pigeon-
shot, and put in a new flint, which would strike out a brilliant
shower of sparks, I carefully primed the gun, and set out upon my
expedition. When arrived at the house of the boy who was to go with
me, I leaned the gun against the side of the house, and waited a few
moments for him to get ready. About a rod from the door, where I was
waiting, there was another house. A little girl stood upon the window-
seat, looking out of the window. Another boy came along, and, taking
up the gun, not knowing that it was loaded and primed, took
deliberate aim at the face of the girl, and pulled the trigger. But
God, in