glorified
immigration agent, whose message is, "This way, ladies and gentlemen,
to a better, brighter, happier world; earth is a poor place to stick
around, heaven is your home." His mission is to teach his people to
make of this world a better place--to live their lives here in such a
way that other men and women will find life sweeter for their having
lived. Incidentally we win heaven, but it must be a result, not an
objective.

We know there is a future state, there is a land where the
complications of this present world will be squared away. Some call it
a Day of Judgment; I like best to think of it as a day of
explanations. I want to hear God's side. Also I know we shall not
have to lie weary centuries waiting for it. When the black curtain of
death falls on life's troubled scenes, there will appear on it these
words in letters of gold, "End of Part I. Part II will follow
immediately."

I know that I shall have a sweet and beautiful temper in heaven, where
there will be nothing to try it, no worries, misunderstandings,
elections, long and tedious telephone conversations; people who insist
on selling me a dustless mop when I am hot on the trail of an idea.
There will be none of that, so that it will not be difficult to keep
sweet and serene. I would not thank any one to hand me a sword and
shield when the battle is over; I want it now while the battle rages;
I claim my full equipment now, not on merit, but on need.

Everything in life encourages me to believe that God has provided a
full equipment for us here in life if we will only take it. He would
not store up every good thing for the future and let us go short here.

In a prosperous district in Ontario there stands a beautiful brick
house, where a large family of children lived long ago. The parents
worked early and late, grubbing and saving and putting money in the
bank. Sometimes the children resented the hard life which they led,
and wished for picnics, holidays, new clothes, ice-cream, and the
other fascinating things of childhood. Some of the more ambitious ones
even craved a higher education, but they were always met by the same
answer when the request involved the expenditure of money. The answer
was: "It will all be yours some day. Now, don't worry; just let us
work together and save all we can; it's all for you children and it
will all be yours some day. You can do what you like with it when we
are dead and gone!" I suppose the children in their he