December 20

Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his—Nux. xxiii. 10.

DO I realize that if I would make sure of dying the death of the righteous, I must live his life? And is it my great concern, from day to day, to live by faith on the Son of God? Do I feel that every day is forming and fixing the character that I must wear for ever; and that as I sow here, so I must reap hereafter? Am I diligent to make my calling and election sure; sure to myself, that I may have the comfort of assurance; sure to others, that I may influence them for good?

I love the quaint saying of a dying man, who ex- claimed, "I have no fear of going home. I have sent all before. God's finger is on the latch, and I am ready for him to enter." And when asked if he had no fear of missing the heavenly inheritance, "Nay," said he, "there is one crown in heaven which even Gabriel could not wear; one throne, that even Paul could not fill. It was made for me, and I shall have it!" Oh, what a joyous thought! "There remaineth a rest!" And if I am a child of God, it is as surely mine as if I was there!—SPURGEON.

Rest remaineth: rest from sin,

Where no guilt can enter in;

Where all warring thought shall cease;

Where are purity and peace;

Rest from sorrow; rest from tears,

Rest from parting; rest from fears;

Where each trembling thought shall be,

Lost, my Saviour, lost in thee!