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CHAPTER VII.

PARADISE JOYS.

E have thought about what Paradise is not-in all probability not situated in

the centre of the earth; in probability amounting to almost certainty, not a state of sleep. Now let us glean a few particulars respecting what Paradise is to those who dwell there.

The word Paradise as defined in an etymological dictionary means "a park or pleasureground; a place or state of blissful delights." As defined more fully in Bagster's "Analytical Greek Lexicon,” it is “a park, a forest where wild

beasts were kept for hunting; a pleasure-park ; a garden of trees of various kinds; used in the Septuagint for the Garden of Eden, in the new Testament for the celestial Paradise."

So we may understand this heavenly Paradise for saved souls to be a park, an enclosure set aside for beauty and enjoyment. What kind of enclosure, what manner of abode, what description of beauty and enjoyment, are implied as existing in the heavenly Paradise we cannot fully know. Only this is clear, that the pure spirits living in that enclosure, provided by their God, find satisfying pleasure and loveliness.

The word so distinctly conveys the impression of conscious enjoyment, that for my part, I cannot see how the fairest and serenest sleepingchamber of unconscious spirits could be honestly called by such a name.

One of the leading thoughts connected with Paradise, seems to be that of REST.

"And white robes were given unto every one

of them, and it was said unto them that they should REST yet for a little season."I

"And I heard a voice from Heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may REST from their labours, and their works do follow them."2

"There remaineth therefore a REST to the people of God."3

The last verse may be spoken of present spiritual rest, and of the eternal future Sabbath, as much as of Paradise. The two first verses appear unmistakably to refer to Paradise alone.

The "rest" of Paradise is no mere repetition of earthly rest, but something far beyond; no mere lying down to sleep, because worn-out body and mind can no longer act, but the utter absence of tiredness. It is a kind of rest which we can scarcely picture to ourselves, for we have known it never yet.

Here there is no work without weariness, no exertion without reaction, no putting forth of strong energy without after exhaustion—or if for a while in youth this is not always felt, sooner

or later the knowledge comes.

But there, no

weariness, no reaction, no exhaustion; there, no cares, no burdens; there, no strain, no struggling up under a weight too heavy for the strength. O nothing of all this in God's fair Paradise, but only the spring of abounding life, and the freshness of new youth, and the flow of perpetual joy.

Is this the manner of rest to which you are looking forward, tired and toil-worn follower of Jesus? If not, take hold of the thought, and remember that the present buffeting with adverse billows will last but a little while.

"Rest" on earth means often only a short space of exhausted cessation from toil; only the gain of a fitful supply of fresh energy, soon to be in its turn expended. "Rest" in Paradise means something far more, something widely different. "There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest."4 Job knew so much of the truth, though it was rather of a silent tomb, or of a general "Sheol" than of a joyous Paradise that he seems to have thought.

"There the weary be at rest." Yes, because there is nothing more to weary them.

"Rest" in Paradise really means no more need for rest; a state of things not easy to picture to ourselves. No more daily cares; no more perplexities in dealing with wilful fellowmen; no more uncertainties as to the future ; no more tears arising from a bruised and aching heart; no more tears of sorrow at all, though tears of joy are a different matter,—but even tears of joy one does not expect in Paradise, for there is always a measure of pain in their shedding, and Paradise-joys will have no admixture of pain.

This is not all. We might carry on the same strain through many variations. The weariness of illness has not yet been touched upon, yet who does not know it? Rest from that weariness too will be in Paradise, for sickness and pain may not enter its gates. No matter how much of bodily ailments you may have endured upon earth, no matter how you may have been bowed down by weakness or crippled by suffering through long years of life-all will cease there, at once and for ever. You will "rest" from illness.