The death of our friends should have the effect of bringing Heaven nearer to us. We ought to cultivate, if we may so speak, _domestic_ views of that blessed world to which we are so much honoured as to have sent up angels from our households. While all superstitious emotions are carefully to be quelled, we are permitted to draw very nigh to them. We may cherish their image in our memories and hearts; we still belong to the same great communion--and all are members of that body of which Jesus is the head. "As death does not separate from the Lord, neither does it divide the saints from one another. Our spirit and theirs daily meet at the one throne--they to praise, we to pray; therefore, in that sense, though we are absent in body, we are present in spirit." And the distance which lies between them and us is daily growing less. How swiftly we travel, yea, fly, in all the speed of time! It may not be an inappropriate close to these meditations, to insert the family hymn, with which the remnant of a bereaved household often close the day, and comfort each others' hearts, at the hour when we feel most desolate. Come let us join our friends above, That have obtained the prize; And on the eagle wings of love, To joy celestial rise. Let saints below his praises sing, With those to glory gone; For all the servants of our King, In heaven and earth are one. One family, we dwell in him, One church above, beneath: Though now divided by the stream, The narrow stream of death. One army of the living God, To his commands we bow; Part of the host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now. Ten thousand to their endless home, This solemn moment fly; And we are to the margin come, And soon expect to die. Dear Saviour, be our constant guide, Then when the word is given, Bid the cold waves of death divide, And land us safe in heaven.