uld be far happier."

"That is a beautiful theory," remarked the friend, "but never can be
realized in actual life. Men are too selfish. They would find no
pleasure in contemplating the enjoyments of others, but would, rather,
be envious of others' good. The merchant, so little does he care for
the common welfare, that unless he receives the gain of his
adventures, he will let his goods perish in his ware-house--to
distribute them, even to the suffering, would not make him happier.
And so with the product of labor in all the various grades of
society. Men turn their eyes inward upon the little world of self,
instead of outward upon the great social world. Few, if any,
understand that they are parts of a whole, and that any disease in any
other part of that whole, must affect the whole, and consequently
themselves. Were this thoroughly understood, even selfishness would
lead men to act less selfishly. We should indeed have Heaven upon
earth if your pure theories could be brought out into actual life."

"Heaven will be found nowhere else by man," was replied to this.

"What!" said the friend, in surprise. "Do you mean to say that there
is no Heaven for the good who bravely battle with evil in this life?
Is all the reward of the righteous to be in this world?"

One of the pious company, at first introduced, came up at this moment,
and hearing the last remark, comprehended, to some extent, its
meaning. He was one who hoped, from pious acts of prayer, fastings,
and attendance upon all the ordinances of the church, to get to Heaven
at last. In the ordinary pursuits of life he was eager for gain, and
men of the world dealt warily with him--they had reason; for he
separated his religious from his business life.

"A most impious doctrine," he said, with indignant warmth. "Heaven
upon earth! A man had better give all his passions the range, and
freely enjoy the world, if there is to be no hereafter. Pain, and
sorrow, and self-denial make a poor kind of Heaven, and these are all
the Christian man meets here. Far better to live while we do live, say
I, if our Heaven is to be here."

"What makes Heaven, my friend?" calmly asked the old man.

"Happiness. Freedom from care, and pain, and sorrow, and all the ills
of this wretched life--to live in the presence of God and sing his
praises forever--to make one of the blessed company who, with the
four-and-twenty elders forever bow before the throne of God and the
Lamb--to have res