Perhaps many of the children who read this book
have never seen a person die. I have seen many. I have seen children
of all ages dressed in the shroud and placed in the coffin. I might
write pages in describing to you such scenes. One day, I went to see
a little girl about ten years of age, who was very sick. When I went
into the room, she was lying upon the little cot-bed, her lips
parched with fever, and her face pale and emaciated with suffering.
Her mother was standing by her bed-side, weeping as though her heart
would break. Other friends were standing around, looking in vain for
something to do to relieve the little sufferer. I went and took her
by the hand, and found that she was dying. She raised her languid
eyes to me, but could not speak. Her breathing grew fainter and
fainter. Her arms and limbs grew cold. We could only look mournfully
on and see the advances of death, without being able to do any thing
to stop its progress. At last she ceased to breathe. Her spirit
ascended to God to be judged, and her body remained upon the bed, a
cold and lifeless corpse. All children are exposed to death; and when
you least expect it, you may be called to lie upon a bed of sickness,
and go down to the grave. There is nothing to give one joy in such an
hour, but a belief that our sins are forgiven, and that we are going
to the heavenly home. But how must a child feel in such an hour, when
reflecting upon falsehoods which are recorded in God's book of
remembrance! Death is terrible to the impenitent sinner; but it is a
messenger of love and of mercy to those who are prepared to die.
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