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Not for the sake of gaining Heaven,
Nor of escaping hell;

Not with the hope of gaining aught,
Not seeking a reward,

But as Thyself hast loved me,
O ever-loving Lord.

So would I love Thee, dearest Lord,
And to Thy praise will sing,
Solely because Thou art my God,
And my most loving King."

We ought to feel that the great joy of Heaven will be to see our dearest friend, Jesus Christ. To be for ever with the Lord. Never more to be separated from Him. Never again to grieve Him by our sins, but to rejoice in His presence for ever.

Then too, think of the joy it will be to meet those we love, who have entered that presence before us; to be admitted to join that "blessed company of all faithful people"; to come at last to those unspeakable joys which God has prepared for those that unfeignedly love Him. But let us ask ourselves these solemn questions. Are we indeed now living as "those that love God"?

Are we living as souls redeemed by Christ should live? Are we living as those who are striving to do the will of God on earth?

If not, we shall not be counted worthy to join with those who do His will in Heaven.

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"O God, Who hast prepared for them that love Thee such good things as pass man's understanding, pour into our hearts such love towards Thee, that we loving Thee above all things may obtain Thy promises, which exceed all that we can desire, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Thy will be done in earth, as it is in Heaven." Yes, in Heaven we shall do God's will. There will be work for us there. We know not of what kind it will be, but we know that the Bible says "His servants shall serve Him."

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Think of the joy it will be to "serve Him," to work there for our dear Lord. longer beset with the trials and sorrows and

temptations of this life; no longer cast down with the many failures and disappointments which must come in all earthly work.

There we shall do our work with joy and gladness, in perfectness and peace.

"I do not want to die yet," remarked a young man on his deathbed, "I am too young to knock off work, I wanted to do so much more for God before the end came."

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"Never mind," replied a friend, "God will give you work to do for Him where you are going. Your true life is only beginning, not ending."

We must not look upon death as the end of life. If we serve God faithfully here, He will give us work to do for Him in the life of the world to come.

THE BETTER LAND.

I hear thee speak of the better land;
Thou callest its children a happy band;
Mother! oh where is that radiant shore,

Shall we not seek it and weep no more!

Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs?

"Not there, not there, my child!"

Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies,
Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange bright birds on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?
"Not there, not there, my child!"

Is it far away, in some region old,

Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,

And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand

Is it there, sweet mother, that better land? "Not there, not there, my child!"

Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!

Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy, Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, Sorrow and death may not enter there:

Time doth not breathe on its faultless bloom,

For beyond the clouds, and beyond the

tomb,

"It is there, it is there, my child!"

Mrs. Hemans.

O, how blest are ye whose toils are ended! Who, through death, have unto God ascended! Ye have arisen

From the cares which keep us still in prison.

We are still as in a dungeon living,
Still oppressed with sorrow and misgiving:
Our undertakings

Are but toils, and troubles, and heart-breakings.

Ye, meanwhile, are in your chambers sleeping,
Quiet, and set free from all our weeping:
No cross nor trial

Hinders

your enjoyments with denial.

Christ has wiped away your tears for ever: Ye have that for which we still endeavour, To you are chanted

Songs which yet no mortal ear have haunted.

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