ty in the Heaven-life.

What else? There shall be _work in Heaven_. The gift of God is
eternal _life_ and that life surely means activity. We are told "His
servants shall serve Him." We are told of the man who increased the
talents or the pounds to five or ten that he was to be used for
glorious work according as he had fitted himself--"Lord, thy talent
hath gained five talents, ten talents." What was the reply? "You are
now to go and rest for all eternity." Not a bit of it. "Be thou ruler
over five cities, over ten cities; enter thou into the joy of thy
Lord." I know some men who are now retired after a very busy active
life of work, and they hate the idleness, they are sick of it. No
wonder the conventional Heaven does not appeal to them. Ah, that is
not God's Heaven. "They rest from their labours." Yes; but that word
"labours" means painful strain. In eternal, untiring youth and
strength we shall be occupied in doing His blessed will in helping and
blessing the wide universe that He has made. Who can tell what
glorious ministrations, what infinite activities, what endless growth
and progress, and lifting up of brethren, God has in store for us
through all eternity. Thank God for the thought of that joyous work of
never-tiring youth and vigour; work of men proudly rejoicing in their
strength, helping the weak ones, teaching the ignorant aye! perhaps for
the very best of us going out with Christ into the outer darkness to
seek that which is lost until He find it. For even that is not shut
out beyond the bounds of possibility in the impenetrable mystery of the
Hereafter. Do you know Whittier's beautiful poem of the old monk who
had spent his whole life in hard and menial work for the rescue and
help of others? And when he is dying his confessor tells him work is
over, "Thou shalt sit down and have endless prayers, and wear a golden
crown for ever and ever in Heaven." "Ah," he says, "I'm a stupid old
man. I'm dull at prayers. I can't keep awake, but I love my fellow
men. I could be good to the worst of them. I could not bear to sit
amongst the lazy saints and turn a deaf ear to the sore complaints of
those that suffer. I don't want your idle Heaven. I want still to
work for others." The confessor in anger left him, and in the night
came the voice of his Lord--

"Tender and most compassionate. Never fear,
For Heaven is love, as God Himself is love;
Thy work below shall be thy work above.