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 while the body sleeps. A Christian has nothing to fear in
this respect. To die will not be--as in full health we suppose it is--a
violent rending asunder of the soul from the unyielding grasp of the
body; but the preparation of the mortal frame for dissolution, by the
sickness, however rapid, also fits the mind for the event. Even in
cases of death by accidents, this appears to be true.

* * * * *

But many feel that to die is to be transferred suddenly, and with
violence, into strange scenes, which must overwhelm and distract the
senses. It seems to them that it must be like being whirled instantly
into a distant, unknown city, and waking up amidst the confusion and
strangeness of that place. We cannot believe that such is the experience
of dying Christians. It would rather seem that there is, at first, a
perception of spiritual forms, of ministering spirits, whispering peace
to the soul, and assuring it of safety, and bidding it fear not. It is
said of angels, "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to
minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?" When can we need
their ministry more, than in the passage from this world to the world of
spirits? Perhaps the disclosure is made of some departed friends; and
the fancy of those who thought that they saw beloved ones beckoning them
away, may have had its foundation in truth. There is much of
probability in that well-known piece, "The dying Christian's address to