The disease of Asa seems to have been remarkable, as if it was peculiarly sent of the Lord, that it is so described, - Perhaps a lameness. He had confined the prophet, and now the Lord confines him. But the prophet's prison was converted into a palace, for the Lord was with him: Asa's palace into a dungeon, for he had not the light of the divine countenance. He sought aid from the physician. He forgot that it is the Lord's province to kill and to make alive, to bring down to the grave and to bring up. Oh! what miserable comforters are all men. Physicians are of no value except the Lord commissions them, either to the body or the soul. His death was awful. Of his burial we read, indeed, that it was attended with great pomp. But oh! how far preferable is one whisper of grace from the Lord, in a dying hour, than all the shouts of men without it over the unconscious ashes. Oh! for that voice to be heard and felt, both by Reader and Writer in the last hour, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord! Yes! blessed Jesus! let it be my portion to live to thee, and to die in thee; and then death will be as precious as spices, and lying down with Christ the sweetest odours. Revelation 14:13.

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