He woke, and caught his Captain's eye;
Then, strong in faith and prayer,
His spirit with a bound

Burst its encumbering clay;

His tent, at sunrise, on the ground,
A darken'd ruin lay.

The pains of death are past,

Labour and sorrow cease,

And, life's long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.
Soldier of Christ! well done;
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Saviour's joy.

"He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much; and he that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much."

OHN MILTON, the chief of poets, held the post of Latin secretary under Cromwell. At the Restoration, he was of course dismissed from his office. He was now poor and blind, and to these afflictions Charles II. added political persecutions; he fined him, and doomed his writings on liberty to be publicly burned. Nothing daunted by these fierce and multiplied trials, the great poet retired into private life, evoked his mighty genius, and produced "Paradise Lost!" But after he had endured

the ills of poverty several years, Charles, feeling the need of his matchless talents, invited him to resume his former post, with all its honours, emoluments, and court favours. But Milton knew that the price of this honour must be silence on the great question of human liberty. Therefore he did not hesitate a moment. It was a strong temptation-the bribe was splendid. By merely keeping silence he could have honour, abundance, and high position, in exchange for poverty, persecution, and neglect! But this could not be. The poet loved truth too well. His soul was too noble, too sincere, too firm in its allegiance to God and liberty, to barter away its right to condemn tyranny for place or gold. Hence he spurned the royal offer, clung to his principles and his poverty, until death called his free soul to enter its congenial heaven. so gentle was the summons, so sweetly calm was his unruffled spirit to the hour of dissolution, that his friends knew not the precise moment of his death.

And

How sublimely beautiful the grand old poet stands out before the mind in this fact! Harassed, tried, aged, and blind, having the power to turn the enmity of a royal despot

ism into favour by simply refraining to speak and write on the liberties of mankind, he grows majestic in his poverty, as he nobly spurns the bribe in obedience to the voice of duty. For the truth's sake he holds fast to poverty and obscurity. To maintain the right of free speech, he sacrifices himself, and defies the power of the king. Noble Milton! As the author of "Paradise Lost," seated in his study surrounded by the sublime creations of his genius, he wears an aspect of sublimity; but in that act of fidelity to God and liberty, his attitude is far more grand, sublime, and beautiful. As the first of the poets, he shines resplendent with intellectual lustre; as the scorner of the royal bribe, he exhibits the moral grandeur of a faithful man-he fills our ideal of the man of faith, standing defiant and unawed amid the dashing waves of human power, because upheld by an immovable trust, and by an unconquerable allegiance to the invisible God. Well did the ancient heathen exclaim of a good man, in similar circumstances, "See a sight worthy of God!”

Now, fellow Christian, while you admire the moral majesty of Milton, you should toil to acquire a corresponding faithfulness to truth

and duty. It is true, you may never be brought, like him, into a strait where the choice between duty and present interest will have to be so distinctly and positively made. But, by a thousand little things, your fidelity is daily subjected to strong tests. It is by proving true in these, you must prepare yourself to stand firm in a great exigency. And by the measure of your faithfulness in little things, you may pass a safe judgment on your ability to abide a fiery trial. If selfish policy, if self-interest and self-seeking are the determining motives of your actions in your ordinary intercourse with mankind—if you are ready to take advantage of the ignorance or necessities of men in matters of business,-if envy, revenge, wounded vanity, or any other low motive has a dominant influence over your conduct, you may be assured that in a severe test of integrity like that of Milton's, would prove you false to truth and duty. You would kneel at the feet of power, and meekly kiss its sceptre for the sake of its smiles and rewards. Such, at least, is the judgment of Christ, who asserts that "He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much; and he that is unjust in the least, is unjust also