There is only one best time to die, and that is when our work that God assigned us is done, and He is so well pleased with ns, or with the work of His race in us, that He wants to embrace us in Paradise, as was the case with Moses, Jesus, Paul, and myriads of others. To a beauty haunted mind conjoined with a loving heart, it would seem that the most fitting season to die would be at sunset, on a bright Sabbath, in the autumn, at the gathering of the harvests. It is simply amazing how the infinite God will consider the wishes of His creatures about death, and it is well nigh a universal rule that He lets people have their desire as to how and at what season they shall die. Biography is filled with thousands of such instances. The time has come in our spiritual voyage, when all our various ships must enter the harbour, and cast anchor in the tranquil bay of death (unless Jesus comes first), to await the bright morning when we shall weigh anchor in the first resurrection, and pass the quarantine of judgment. Let us first get a plain Bible view of death. It is not in any sense annihilation, for the two ideas are not the same. One apostle speaks of death by the Greek word "exodus" or going out from the body; and another apostle speaks of death by the Greek word ''analysis" or the taking to pieces, or the separation of the human spirit from the body, but never one thought of annihilation, or the soul being unconscious. Some imaginative people who do not know Christ, speak of death in a soft poetical way as taking a delightful sleep on a cool clay pillow, under beautiful green verdure, away from the fever of life, and such like phrases, which is merely an animal's dream of death. Others regard death as a vast shadowy hiding place to escape life's ills, and into whose secret windings people can escape the duties of life, or the police of God's laws and providence, which is the suicide's dream of death. Others regard death as so horrible it must not be mentioned or thought upon very much, lest it unnerve us. And some Christians go to the opposite extreme by almost denying such a thing as death, and speaking of it as a ''translation." Death is not a translation, which is being caught up to heaven in the body, and it is unscriptural, and a foolish fastidiousness to speak of death as a translation. Why can we not be plain and scriptural in our views and expressions? The Bible declares that death is a reality, a sad, solemn penalty for breaking God's command. With the exception of the few saints that will be caught away at the coming of Jesus, death is universal, and the time to each of us is unknown. Since Jesus has died and risen, it is our privilege through His saving grace and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit to have perfect victory over all sin, and all fear of death, and by a life of prayer to make such constant excursions of faith into the heavenly world, and get so well acquainted with the scenes and the beings of the spiritual world, that death becomes thin enough for us to apprehend beautiful forms, and catch the low, soft tones of heavenly voices through its vail.

Some years ago we returned from a sea voyage, and reached the entrance of the Delaware Bay about sun down, on a lovely Sabbath, in the spring of the year. As we passed the light-ship, the pilot boat came alongside to furnish us with a pilot up the Bay and river to Philadelphia. We saw various ships and sailing craft making for the same harbour, some of them weather-beaten by storms far off at sea, others small coast-wise vessels, and others little sail craft that kept close into the shore, but all entering the same harbour; a fitting type of how the old and young, the strong and the weak, the ripe saint and those young in grace, must all gather at the close of life's day into the harbour of death. The taking on a pilot to steer our ship safely up the channel, has its counterpart in the ministry of the angel that Jesus sends to the deathbed of his servant, to strengthen him, and open up the path to the skies, and protect the soul from the alarms and dangers that beset the hour of death. There are possible dangers of running aground, or having a collision as we approach the hour of death, in the form of conflict with evil spirits, or severe temptation; and our dear guardian angel, who has ministered to us in ten thousand emergencies in our past lives, and fought many a battle at our side without letting us hear the clash of his armour, does not fail to finish his ministry with heroic brotherly service when our strength fails in the helpless hour of death, for scripture says "they are ministering spirits to those who are the heirs of salvation" or as more literally translated, "to those who are about to become the heirs,'' as if their blessed ministry became more vigilant and active in that hour when the Christian is most helpless.

Our ship steamed through the mouth of the bay, and several miles through the smooth water, for all the ocean waves were left behind, and when the stars came out, and night settled down, the speed of the ship was slackened, a place was selected for anchoring, and when the ship came almost to a standstill, the Captain from the bridge gave the order, the little rope that held the great anchor was suddenly cut by a sailor, and instantly there was a loud splash in the water, and the rapid running out of the rattling chain cable, until the heavy flukes of the anchor had grappled with the earth, and the great ship swung around with the gentle flowing current, and all was still. The signal lights were hung up, and the night watchers were duly set, to await the coming morning.

What a parable this is of the Christian's death. As he enters the harbour of rest, he leaves the storms of life's voyage behind him, and the wheels of this life slow down to almost a breathless stillness, and then his great Captain, from that lofty bridge that spans eternity, gives the command, and the death angel cuts the subtle cord that so mysteriously unites the soul and the body, and suddenly the heart flutters in a feeble spasm, the cable of life rapidly runs out, and ''the anchor is cast within the vail down under the peaceful waters, and all is still, and God, who marks the-sparrow's fall, sets his watchers to guard the sleeping body till the morning when the just shall arise in the image of the glorified Jesus.

Let us take this casting of the anchor to represent the act of dying in our allegory' and then notice the various kinds of deaths that Christians die. There are sudden deaths, where people drop without a moment's warning, which resembles a ship casting out anchor while going at full speed or half speed. I have always had a thought that in these sudden deaths there was probably some intimation of it beforehand, especially to real Christians, for God is so good, and loves his true servants so tenderly, it would seem from scripture and observation that He would notify in some deep and interior way those who are called suddenly in His presence. But of those deaths of Christians where we can gather more details, we may mention the following kinds of deaths: The agitated death, which resembles a ship not knowing where to cast anchor, lest it might strike a torpedo, or run ashore, or collide in the night. It is not so much the fear of death itself as it is of an uncertainty as to what the issue may be. Such deaths are apt to be with superficial Christians, who in their lives have failed to take the soundings as to the depths of their inner character, and now are brought to face in a most searching ordeal with principles of character which they have always treated lightly. They are apt to be people who lived on the outside of their souls, superficial, boisterous, making a great noise over a small amount of grace, who magnified their sectarianism, or religious modes, to the neglect of secret prayer, and of interior meditation, and the thoughtful examination of their hidden dispositions in the calm sight of God. Now that death is coming, they must drop off all churchism, all forms, all outward noise and demonstrations, and face a vast inner world of spiritual things, and they are unprepared for this change of mental vision from the outer to the inner. Boisterous souls are always shallow. Nine-tenths of a great many people's religion is either hushed or torn to pieces at death, which accounts for the distress, the agitation, on a good many death-beds, and the necessity of special prayer meetings for dying grace.

2. The death of holy fear is in the case of those who have vivid perceptions of the natural attributes of God, such as His eternity, and sovereignity, and infinite justice, and who have not been accustomed to a simple child-like trust in the fullness of the atonement. The fear of God, providing it does not have any doubt or despair in it, is one of the most wholesome conditions of a creature's soul, like a bracing frosty air to the traveler. This kind of a death does not have in it the agitation of the one previously mentioned, but is full of solemnity, and that holy awe of being ushered into the presence of Divine Majesty. If such a death is mingled with love and confidence, it is one very appropriate for a creature thus to meet his Creator.

3. The very exultant, triumphant death, which is the kind that makes tremendous impressions on the bystanders, but it may be very far from being the best kind of a death. Very few deep saints die in that manner. It is a well known fact that multitudes of Christians do not yield themselves absolutely up to God, and receive the sanctification of their hearts from inward sin, till just before they die; and in such cases they often enter into the joy of heart purity, and feel for the first time that the blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin. In such cases the soul is suddenly strengthened with the inlet of new and mighty joys, which vent themselves in loud praises, and clapping the hands, and the whole being is in an ecstasy. This flood of triumphant salvation in connection with approaching death is most certainly a powerful sermon to those around, and yet it could be wished that in many such cases they had not postponed the day of their sanctification, and full salvation shouting, to so late an hour. This explains how it is that some Christians whose religious lives have been so meagre have such triumphant deaths, they find their Pentecost at the wrong end of life. You cannot measure correctly the magnitude of a Christian life simply by the joys on his death bed.

4. The death of strange and awful temptation. Religious biography furnishes us with occasional instances where the most spiritual people, and eminently useful, have been assailed with most horrible temptations just before death. These temptations as a rule are such as the soul has never had in its previous life, and are the direct assaults of satan and his evil angels. They are most invariably awful dark clouds on the mind, attended with an almost uncontrollable impulse to curse God, to deny the divinity of Jesus, or to reject the efficacy of His blood. There are some good, holy people, who have lived for years without knowing any personal conflicts with the devil, or without the shame and mortification of vile temptations, and it would seem that such souls have to die in a furnace of trial, as if to make up for their easy and happy lives.

5. The death of visions and revelations, where the person sees angels around them in the room, and talks with them, and hears the music of their harps, and songs of exquisite and unimaginable sweetness, or sees the heavens opened, and the blessed Jesus to welcome them. To deny such deaths as these is to deny the Bible, and the testimony of tens of thousands of creditable witnesses. I have come across several instances, where persons before death testified to seeing Jesus, and seeing angels and hearing their songs, and the music of their harps, which simply proves in harmony with the death of Stephen, there is an inner spiritual man, which has the same five senses that the outer physical man has; and that these inner senses, on approaching death, are opened to see and hear the beings and realities of the spiritual world, and which proves that the wretched teaching of the unconscious sleep of the soul in death is false. As a rule children, and humble, gentle, guileless souls, have this death of angelic visions.

6. The death of spiritual discernment, in which people see the whole world of Bible truth, and the possibilities of grace in an astonishing degree. They not only have a cloudless vision of the realities of everlasting hell and heaven, but of the true state of things on earth, the awful worldliness in the churches, the necessity of holiness of heart, the glories of Christ's personal return, and the true way the gospel should be preached. In that solemn hour when the mist that has hung over men's lives is lifted, and the sharp, white light of eternity is streaming in, dying ministers have been heard to exclaim, "Oh, if I could get well, and go back in the pulpit, how I would preach the Gospel;" another is heard to say, "I see hell is real, and how I wish I could warn sinners to flee from the lake of fire which the Bible speaks of;" another cries out, ''Holiness, oh holiness, the people must be holy, preach it everywhere, we must have holy hearts," and still another cries out, like the great saintly Earl of Shaftsbury, "Jesus is surely coming back to this earth to conquer and reign, and will you tell the ministers to preach it everywhere, that Christ is coming, and coming soon." Why is it that we do not let the Holy Ghost lift the mist away, and pour a sea of light on all these things before the necessity of death has to do it?

7. The death of tender, melting love, as if the soul, like an iceberg from the North, had struck the gulf stream, where it is melted in the warm current. There are people who all their life long have had an unattractive type of piety, and their approaching death can be predicted by the mellowing down of their spirits, and the soft and gentle manners that are so unlike the way they have lived. Frequently dying Christians are melted into an inexpressible love for the members of their family, and all their fellows, and they pour out their dying thoughts in terms of the most sacred and tender endearment, as if the summer heat of heaven had shot through the chilly death sweat, and melted them in a sea of love.

8. The death of sweet, quiet, holy indifference; where the soul is so perfectly at rest in God that it has no choice to go or stay. Such a soul has gone through so many deaths that it seems accustomed to it, and has lived in such intimate fellowship with God, as to find him almost with equal ease, on this side of death as well as on the other side. Such souls are the deep interior saints, who, like the sub-marine ship, can run in from the ocean, and slip unnoticed into harbour without being detected. Those saints who have for years lived on a level with heaven's doorstep have no climbing to do in the hour of death.

9. There will be, according to God's word, some Christians who will not pass through death, but at the close of the present church age, when Jesus comes to gather his saints together, according to Psalm 50: 3-5, and 2 Thes. 2:1, will be caught up to meet Christ in the air. These will be like those ships that reach the harbour entrance at sunrise, and without casting anchor pass the quarantine, and land their cargoes at the pier. At last that great day of the Lord's return will break, and all the ships who have swung at their anchors through the night, will weigh their anchors, and pass the Divine Quarantine of the judgment for his saints, which must not be confounded with the subsequent judgment of the wicked dead, which, according to Scripture, will occur a thousand years after (Rev. 20:7-15). We who read these lines have not yet reached the harbour, but the helmsman is steadily heading our ship that way, and at every pulse-beat we are being propelled onward in our destiny. Let us feed our furnaces in secret prayer, keep our spiritual machinery in good condition, steer through the daily waves by the divine chart, and keep a good lookout for the celestial shore, that we make the voyage safely; and whether we reach the harbour in the evening, and have to cast anchor over night, or whether we reach it in the morning, we may be ready to join the vast white winged fleet that will sail up the river of light to meet the great Captain of our salvation.