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 for "love is heaven, and heaven is love." Thus is he, in a manner, coming into heaven as to his spirit, even while still in this world: he is in truth an angel, "all glorious within." At length his happy time comes. His attached friends are assembled at his bedside. The evening hours have been passing slowly on,—the faint ticking of the clock distinctly audible in the silence of the apartment. He is in a gentle slumber; they watch his countenance with anxious looks; they feel that his departure is near. Suddenly he awakes. "What is the hour?" he says, in a whispering yet distinct voice. "Just twelve."—"It is well—I am called—adieu, dear friends!" He closes his eyes, and, with a gentle sigh, the good man has passed into the mansions of eternity. Angels welcome him: the Lord of glory Himself receives him: "Well done," He says, "good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the Joy of thy Lord." Happy, happy man! He has "fought the good fight: he has finished his course: he has kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for him a crown of righteousness" in the everlasting kingdoms. "Blessed are the dead, that die in the Lord; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works follow with them."