e--Christianity and Paganism--meet together in impressive and
significant contrast. The one comes to the dark river with her pale,
sickly lamp. It refuses to burn--the damps of Lethe dim and quench it.
Philosophy tries to discourse on death as a "stern necessity"--of the
duty of passing heroically into this mysterious, oblivion-world--taking
with bold heart "the leap in the dark," and confronting, as we best can,
blended images of annihilation and terror.

The Gospel takes us to the tomb, and shews us Death vanquished, and the
Grave spoiled. Death truly is in itself an unwelcome messenger at our
door. It is the dark event in this our earth,--the deepest of the many
deep shadows of an otherwise fair creation--a cold, cheerless avalanche
lying at the heart of humanity, freezing up the gushing fountains of
joyous life. But the Gospel shines, and the cold iceberg melts. The Sun
of Righteousness effects what philosophy, with all its boasted power,
never could. Jesus is the abolisher of Death. He has taken all that is
terrible from it. It is said of some venomous insects that when they
once inflict a sting, they are deprived of any future power to hurt.
Death left his envenomed sting in the body of the great victim of
Calvary. It was thenceforward disarmed of its fearfulness! So complete,
indeed, is the Redeemer's victory over this last enemy, that He Himself
speaks of it as no longer a reality, but a shadow--a phantom-foe from
which we have nothing to dread. "Whosoever believeth in Me shall _never
die_." "If a man keep My sayings, he shall _never see death_." These are
an echo of the sweet Psalmist's beautiful words, a transcript of his
expressive figure when he pictures the Dark Valley to the believer as
the Valley of a "_shadow_." The substance is removed! When the gaunt
spirit meets him on the midnight waters, he may, like the disciples at
first, be led to "cry out for fear." But a gentle voice of love and
tenderness rebukes his dread, and calms his misgivings--"It is I! be not
afraid!" Yes, here is the wondrous secret of a calm departure--the
"sleep" of the believer in death. It is the name and presence of JESUS.
There may be many accompaniments of weakness and prostration, pain and
suffering, in that final conflict; the mind may be a wreck--memory may
have abdicated her seat--the loving salutation of friends may be
returned only with vacant looks, and the hand be unable to acknowledge
the grasp of affection--but there is