Lead me through this world of sorrow, Let my hand in thine e'er be; Throw thy arms of love around me, Savior, let me walk with thee. When the storm-clouds round me gather In the clefted Rock I hide; When the surging billows threaten, Fold me closer to thy side. There's a home for me in heaven, By the crystal, silvered sea; Some sweet morn the golden portals Opened wide will be for me. There in amaranthine glory I will sit at Jesus' feet; There I'll sing the sweet old story As I walk the golden street. O my heart, wait on in patience, Each day brings me nearer the goal; In some blissful dewy dawning Heaven will receive my soul. CONCLUSION. Our introduction is upon the subject of Life; our conclusion is upon Death. To many people the word _death_ is full of horror. Thank God, it holds no horror to the pure in heart. Death has no sting for those whose souls are in fellowship with God. Those who love God hail with joy the hour in which they are to meet him. Death to a Christian is only his removal from earth to the paradise of God. If some man of wealth were to tell you he had a rich home prepared for you in a distant land, where you could have all your heart could wish, and be happy as long as you lived, if you had confidence in the man, you could say good-by and cheerfully go to your new home. Death is nothing more. Some may shudder at the thought of the pain in death. How often we hear remarks like this: "This pain is almost like death," or, "it's like taking one's life." Have you not stood beside the infant's crib and watched it go peacefully to sleep? Where was the pain? Death to a Christian is only a going to sleep. You have had far more pain in life than you will have in death. There may be pain just prior to death, but none in death. Death to a saint is as peaceful as going to sleep. Have you not often been in some solitary place and given yourself into the arms of Muse? You have fallen to thinking about heaven and the angels and the Savior and your crown. You seemed as your soul was wafted upward on the wings of meditation, to lose consciousness of all on earth. Such will it be in death. Your soul will begin to see the glories of heaven; you will hear the sweet strains of music; you will begin to lose consciousness of earthly things and comprehend more of heaven. Then soon you will draw your last breath on the shore of time and sound your first note of praise on the shore of eternity. This is all there is in death. It is precious to fond parents to see their little children, with folded hands, go peacefully to sleep. So to our Father in heaven is the death of his saints precious. In fancy I can see many of my young readers, after a well-spent life, gathered in ripe old age on the banks of old Time's-river, waiting in bright hope to be summoned over to their rich possessions in the verdant fields of heaven.