As a child when wearied with play nestles in the mother's arms, and without one lingering fear of danger, sweetly sleeps, so does the weary believer when called to die nestle in fearless confidence in the Everlasting Arms. What mother-love is to the confiding child, the all embracing love of the Infinite One is to the dying Christian whose faith recognizes the everlasting Father in the gracious Face of the glorified Jesus. It was because Stephen's eye rested on that divine Face, while he lay bleeding on the rough bed of martyrdom, that inspiration did not say he died, but that he "fell asleep." 0 beautiful conception of death! Going into a soft, sweet sleep, which ends the sorrow and toils of earth, and is followed by a waking amidst the music, the bliss, the glory of heaven, and a beholding the beauty and love of God in the face of Him who is altogether lovely, the Son of Man, the Son of God—this is death.