Toil on, O weary, way-worn sufferer! bear up, O crushed and sorrowing heart! thy bed of pain, thy silent heroism, thy patient Christian walk, thy resignation, and thy grief, glow all unconsciously to thee with winning radiance, and fill the world with life's sweetest fragrance—as bruised flowers with perfume do the air.
He knows the bitter, weary way,
The endless striving day by day,
The souls that weep, the souls that pray
He knows!
He knows! Oh thought so full of bliss!
For though on earth our joy we miss,
We still can bear it, feeling this,—
He knows!
He knows; O heart take up thy cross,
And know earth's treasures are but dross,
And He will prove as gain our loss!
He knows.
In the highest class of God's school of suffering we learn not resignation nor patience, but rejoicing in tribulation.
SUNDAY-SCHOOL
We the Sunday-school workers, what are we but the church at work? The Sunday-school is the church in futuro. Our recruits come almost wholly from the training classes of the Sunday-school. The Bible, the open Bible, the studied Bible, the Bible in the heart is the only hope of our land to-day.
