After the fever of life--after wearinesses, sicknesses, fightings and despondings, languor and fretfulness, struggling and failing, struggling and succeeding--after all the changes and chances of this troubled and unhealthy state, at length comes death-at length the white throne of God—at length the beatific vision.-J. H. Newman.

HEAVEN.

Rest.

Heavenly joys shall be like the tree of life in the New Jerusalem, which brings forth twelve manner of fruits, and yields its fruit every month. Robert Hall used to cry: "Oh, for the everlasting rest!" But Wilberforce would sigh to dwell in unbroken love. Hall was a man who suffered; he longed for rest. Wilberforce was a man of amiable spirit, loving society and fellowship; he longed for love. Hall shall have his rest, and Wilberforce shall have his love. There are joys at God's right hand, suitable for the spiritual tastes of all those who shall come thither. The heavenly manna tastes to every man's peculiar liking.--SPURGgeon.

Elijah's Translation.

There is a Heaven; there is an appointed end to every true and faithful servant of God. You do not tumble into the grave, and that is the last of you. My brother, my sister, living for Christ in this great Babylon of London-have no doubt it. You will see Him; you will

stand in His presence.

There is a Heaven; there is a

terminus to this earthly pilgrimage, and it is bright and grand and glorious, sure and certain. Do not lose sight of it. Do not forget it for a single instant. Elijah went up. Listen to that, O Ahab! Listen to that, thou cursing Jezebel! Elijah! Thou hast lost him for ever! 'Thou didst swear, and say his life should be as the life of thy priests, whom he slew." See how empty thy curse is. "Elijah went up by a whirlwind into Heaven." What infinite contempt God has poured upon all Elijah's enemies! And He will do the same with mine for me.

We are going up, my believing friends. We are sore held down just now, but we are none the less destined to rise. Elijah went up. Then the old proverb is true: “Threatened folk live long." Indeed they do. Threatened Christians are going to live for ever.

I wish we could believe it. I think I see Elijah going up into Heaven. What a welcome he gets from the angels that line the golden streets! Elijah sweeping right up to the presence of his God and King, to receive the welcome: "Well done!" Oh, what an inspiring. sight for a servant of Christ today- Elijah going at a bound clean above the world, the flesh and the devil, into his rest and his reward!--MCNEILL.

HEROISM.

The Inspiration of Great Names.

There must have been some hours in your life when your heart has thrilled with a genuine inspiration, and when, sitting alone in the stillness of your room, you have pored over the page that has told you of the great names that have made humanity immortal-men and women who have carried its sorrows and its hopes upon their hearts--who have illumined its low places with the beauty of their lives, and who, as they moved onward and upward, printing their footsteps in blood on the stony steps, have left behind them the luster of a nobility that can never pale, and have filled the busy air through which they passed with the fragrance of a heroism that can never die. And at such moments, when all the house has been hushed in its midnight stillness, and you have dropped your book, feeling your nature all aglow with the great thoughts that have been kindled within you, surely, then, you have longed to be like those nobler beings and to follow their radiant footsteps. Cling to that longing, my young brother; cling to it and follow it as well; for, sooner or later, this love of goodness, this reverence for nobleness, this aspiration after unselfishness, will bring you into the presence of One who is the best, the divinest, the most unselfish of all.-H. C. POTTER.

Obscure Martyrs.

The world knows nothing of its greatest men."

They have no place in storied page;

No rest in marble shrine.

They are past and gone with a perished age;

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They died and made no sign."

But work that shall find its wages yet,

And deeds that their God did not forget,

Done for their love divine

These were their mourners, and these shall be
The crowns of their immortality.

Oh, seek them not where sleep the dead.

Ye shall not find their trace.

No graven stone is at their head;
No green grass hides their face.

But sad and unseen is their silent grave——

It

may be the sand or the deep sea wave,

Or a lonely desert place;

For they needed no prayers and no mourning bell.

They were tombed in true hearts that knew them well.

They healed sick hearts till theirs were broken,

And dried sad eyes till theirs lost sight;

We shall know at last by a certain token
How they fought and fell in the fight.
Salt tears of sorrow unbeheld,

Passionate cries unchronicled,

And silent strifes for the right

Angels shall count them, and the earth shall sigh
That she left her best children to battle and die.

SIR EDWIN ARNOLD.

Who Is Great?

I like the man who faces what he must
With step triumphant and a heart of cheer;
Who fights the daily battle without fear;
Sees his hopes fail, yet keeps unfaltering trust
That God is God; that somehow, true and just
His plans work out for mortals.

Not a tear

Is shed when fortune, which the world holds dear,

Falls from his grasp. Better with love, a crust,
Than living in dishonor, envies not

Nor loses faith in man; but does his best,

Nor even murmurs at his humbler lot;
But with a smile and words of hope gives zest
To every toiler. He alone is great

Who by a life heroic conquers fate.

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

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