His Heart's Desire

lt was a briglit spriug day, and tho raj's of the afternoon aun streamcd in through the colored windows, making gray pavement the cold, of the old cathedral blush with crimson and purple light. The glory feil here and there in jewol-tinted flakes and flecks, now lighting up sonae massive column, now gfeaniing on the glooiny, oaken stalls. Öne brightray seemed to caress tenderly the fair-haircd boy who was singing, as all trne singers must, with his whole soul. As the sunlight came through the wondrous windows and illumined hU golden curls, so was his face radiant with a glow of earnest happisess that streamcd from his eyes - tho windows of the soul, and as he sang he seemed inspired. Breathlessly alllistened, as thero welled up tho pure voice - rioh, yet restrained in the soothing strains - the tender cadenees of the great master. The solemn tones swept away down the long nave and high into the arching roof, They eddied lingeringly in the aisles and in the great transepts, and round eaten shrines. Comfort and solace for tho weary, wounded heart seomed to ring in every note, as the sweet words of that true angels' song rosounded: "Oh! rest in the Lord; wait patiently for Him, and He shall give thee thy heart's desire." The anthem was ended - the last words of peace spoken - the worshipers dispersed. Only one old man still knelt in rapt contemplaron. The message of the anthem had stirred the very depths of his heart and carried him f ar back into bygone ycars. long years ago he, too, had been a singer. There came before him the memory of a certain day when he also had sung those words. Not to that H}usic, indeed. That had not been ealled into earthly existence out of the universe of unborn melody which the great masters of sonjj are sometimes permitted to hearaud interpret to their fellow-iuen. I5ut he had sung the words, and even then they sank into his heart, boy as ho was, with a heavenly music of their own; for he feil and kuew that the divine promise must be truc and faithful. It was tho last time he was to 3ing there. He was passing out of boyhood, and he had now to try tu earn his ,'purs in that deadly combat with the world which brinjrs woe, indeed, to the conquercd. So with the greater power and intensiiy did the words come home to him. His heart's desire! To attain this he would wiüingly wait, and wait patiently. No toil skould be too hard; no drudgery too wearisome, il it but led him to sucli an end as that. His heart's desire! What should tb al be What could that be? Then there aroso before his boyisli mind dazzling visions of great tnc' boundless wealth. He thought of al that riches could purchase - of all they could accomplish. How often had h planued: "This would I do, if only 1 werc rioh." And here was the piwuiso. He liad but lo make it his heart's desire and he would snrely obtain it. Briglit were the dreams that lilled his fanev. What good would lie not uo with his wealth'. What achiug hearts woulcl lie not heal! How generous would he bo! With what joy would he próvido for bis loved ones! His inothèr - what would he not do lor her! Nuw she had to work for him; but then he would bc able to repay lier. Oh! that the day might qiüokly come! Do you smüe at his wishes? Have your ovvn always been as pure, as unselKsh? Another picture rose before the old man's ruind. Ten years had passed away and hc was now becorne a man. Once more the familiar words rang in his ears. With a smilchalf scornfui the youth recalled his boyhood's aspirations. Wealth? No; that was no truc heart's desire of his. He now knew how impotent, how sordid mere carthl}' wealth was. That which was gross, material, son8uous, evaueseent, it might procure; but with what is highost aud noblest iii man - with what is most truly enduring - it had nought iu comnion. He knew better than to desire sueh a thing now No! there was a higher good to be longed for. He was willing to wait patiently if he might but attain to power and renown. Power that he might wield - not to benefit a few, but to do good to millions. Power that should command wealth and make use of it. His cye kindled. Proudly lie drevr himself up at the very thought of swayiug myriads for their welfare. Yes; he would be a king and a rular among men, and unborn generations should avow him in very trnth a benefactor. For such an end as this, life would indeed be worth the living. For such an end as this he could be well content to wait patiently. Here was at last his heart's desire. Time passed sileutly but rapidly. Fifteen more years had slipped away, and now he sat a man well on in years. His dark locks were gnzzied, and deep were the marks where care had plowed long furrows on his brow. A book lay open before him, and he read: "Rest in the Lord and waitpatiently forHim." With a sigh he recalled his formerlongings. He had not obtained them. nor dia he now regret them. As formerly he had perceived the vanity of earthly riches. so now he eould discern the inipotence of earthly power While toilïng onpatiently in his obscure eondition he had observed many rise to great power. But he had also observed their decline. Their sun had risen ligh at noontide, but in the end liad faded into the gloom of the night; and if their power was transitory, it was no les feeble (Jonipared with other men they niight seem powerful, but when brought face to face with the rcalities of life and death. then their actual weakness bueame apparent. No; that desire, too, had been a mistake. What, then, was there to long for? Long had hc cd bravely by liimself, but now the trife began to teil upon his strength. Sorrow and care had dono thcir work. [e began to feel that he was alone in ie world, and to long for some one to ] 11 op the void in his lifo. Yes that might wcll be his heart's lesire. A pure, truc love tha might nter into his joys and sympathize with lis griefs. A love to last throughout his life and only bogin afresh in the udless Ufo to come. That wonld surey bo a glorious crown for his patiënt vaiting. Again twenty years assed. The snows of oíd age liad allen lightly, ilake by ilake, upon his vead He bent this time over the poet's words: "All thiugs come round to liira who will but wait." The echoes of old memories awoke. Gravely, but not sorrowfully, the old man reviowed his earlier dreams and wishes - wealth and )over. He had seen their omptiness ind uselessness. And that last droam! Was that as vain? Is love as idle a show as others? Nay, not so; for love is eternal. ¦ Yet he seemed to peroeive that the boon might havo buen withdrawn from him in mercy. Ho had soen how the lovcd ones of other men had boen taken froro them, how the after-solitude had been doubly bitter, how doubly dark had been the gloom when the love-light faded out of their lives. He had seen, too how imperfect after all was the communion of even those hearts that had loved the best. So, pondering over his mistake, he began to perceive that onao again he haa mistaken for the deep and endnring heart's desire something that after years had shown lo be but poor and lle'eting. Then, though', he, that whioh I most need is vrisdom, true wisdom. That in itself is wealth and power. It must surely be as eternal as love. It will help me to bear my griefs. It caunot fail to enhanco my joys. Be this, then, my heart's desire So the oíd man, still kneeling in thc great cathedral, called up the visión of íays long past and drcanis long ilead. Hut now tho familiar words seemed clothed with new meaning. As the sunight ilashing on the distant landscape will bring to view boauties unsuspected oefore, so the wondrous melody seemed to have taught him to íind now truth in the words he liad known so long. He Had found the keynote of the saying and its hannony beeame olear to him. "'Oh! rest in the Lord.' Yea, gracious Master, Thou hast guidcd me hitherto. 'Whereas I was blind now I see.' Thou hast been showing how vain and empty were wliat seemed my hearts desires. Thou ha3t caused me to see that they were not even the true desires of my heart. "Contentedly, thereforc, will I rest me in Thee, O loving Lord! Patiently will I vait for Thee. Do Thou my exceeding great rcward. Be Thou my heart's desire " Whatthcn? Is this all? Is the Divine Providence but a deceit? After a whole lifetime of patiënt waiting was the oíd man only taught to know a new desire? Nay, but thc promiso was fulh'lled. Not only one desire, but all his desires '.7ere granted him. Wealtb beyond man's eoncoption, power greater than that of a monarch, love eternal and boundless, wisdom deeper and trucr than that of the ancients, and the presence of that Lord who was his heart's truc desire - all were given him, and that speedily. For, when the colored glory of the windows had faded into cold gray and the verger carne round to cíoso the gates of the cathcdral for the night, the silvery head was still bowed in grateful adoralion, but the soul had winged its flight thithor where true joys are to be found. He had patiently waited for the Lord and had obtained