ttle of dying because he thinks so much of what
comes after. Who is afraid of a brief journey if a meeting with dear
friends long lost is at the end of it? The narrow avenue seems short,
and its roughness and darkness are nothing, because Jesus Christ stands
with outstretched arms at the other end, beckoning us to Himself, as
mothers teach their children to walk. Whosoever is sure that he will be
with Christ can afford to smile at death, and call it but a shifting of
place. And whosoever feels the desire to be with Christ will not shrink
from the means by which that desire is fulfilled, with the agony of
revulsion that it excites in many an imagination. It will always be
solemn, and its physical accompaniments of pain and struggle will always
be more or less of a terror, and the parting, even for a time, from our
dear ones, will always be loss, but nevertheless if we see Christ across
the gulf, and know that one struggle more and we shall clasp Him with
'inseparable hands with joy and bliss in over measure for ever,' we
shall not dread the leap.

One thought about the future should fill our minds, as it did Paul's,
that it is to be with Christ. How different that nobly simple
expectation, resolving all bliss into the one element, is from the
morbid curiosity as to details, which vulgarises and weakens so much of
even devout anticipation of the future. To us as to him Heaven should be
Christ, and Christ should be Heaven. All the rest is but accident.
Golden harps and crowns, and hidden manna and white robes and thrones,
and all the other representations, are but symbols of the blessedness of
union with Him, or consequences of it. Immortal life and growth in
perfection, both of mind and heart, and the cessation of all that
disturbs, and our investiture with glory and honour, flung around our
poor natures like a royal robe over a naked body, are all but the
many-sided brightnesses that pour out from Him, and bathe in their
rainbowed light those who are with Him.

To be with Christ is all we need. For the loving heart to be near Him is
enough.

'I shall clasp thee again, O soul of my soul,
And with God be the rest.'

Let us not fritter away our imaginations and our hopes on the
subordinate and non-essential accompaniments, but concentrate all their
energy on the one central thought. Let us not lose this gracious image
in a maze of symbols, that, though precious, are secondary. Let us not
inquire, w