I do not know very much about bees except, of course, that they sting. I am told, however, that when a bee stings you it leaves its sting in the wound and goes away to die. A little child may play with the bee after it has stung a person without any harm coming to the child. The bee has lost its power to hurt. So we are told that the sting of death is sin. Death stung Christ on the cross and left its sting in Him, so that ever after it could not hurt the children of God. He is "Death of death and hell's destruction." Christ, the Great Shepherd, will be there at the entrance of the valley to meet you and lead you through. He will beat off all the powers of death. He will destroy all the enemies of darkness and convey you safely through the valley into the Homeland. He holds the keys of death and the grave. How helpless a thing a sheep is! How much in need of a defender it is! It seems as though almost any other animal can defend itself. A dog will fight when attacked. A sheep stands helpless in the presence of its opponent. Christ, the Good Shepherd, will protect to the last. The comforting thoughts of this verse must certainly take the sting out of death to those who grasp the great truths taught here. It surely abolishes death and illumines immortality. No one need fear death with such thoughts as these before him. The Apostle Paul asserts that every believer in Christ has "a cheerful view of death," and desires rather "to be absent from the body and at home with the Lord" than to remain here upon the earth. Go to thy grave, not as the slave scourged to his dungeon, or the dog whipped to his kennel, but as the prince wraps around him the drapery of his couch and lies down to pleasant dreams. The conscious companionship of the Christ will remove thy fears. With what alacrity, courage and fearlessness doth he walk the highway whose heart is honest and whose conscience doth not convict him of the violation of his country's laws! How different with the criminal! How full of fear and apprehension! Abide with me! fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens--Lord, with me abide! When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me! Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away; Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me! I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me! Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies; Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me! --_Henry F. Lyte_ CHAPTER FIVE [Illustration]