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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #54060 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54060)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beyond the Gates, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Beyond the Gates
-
-Author: Elizabeth Stuart Phelps
-
-Release Date: January 27, 2017 [EBook #54060]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND THE GATES ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- BEYOND THE GATES.
-
- BY
-
- ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS,
-
- AUTHOR OF “THE GATES AJAR,” “THE STORY OF AVIS,” ETC., ETC.
-
- _Nineteenth Thousand._
-
- [Illustration: colophon]
-
- BOSTON:
- HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
- New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street.
- The Riverside Press, Cambridge.
- 1884.
-
- Copyright, 1883,
- BY ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS.
-
- _All rights reserved._
-
- _The Riverside Press, Cambridge_:
- Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton and Company.
-
- _TO MY BROTHER_,
-
- STUART,
-
- WHO PASSED BEYOND, AUGUST 29, 1883.
-
-
-
-
-NOTE.
-
-
-It should be said, that, at the time of the departure of him to whose
-memory this little book is consecrated, the work was already in press;
-and that these pages owe more to his criticism than can be acknowledged
-here.
-
-E. S. P.
-
-GLOUCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS,
-
-_September, 1883_.
-
-
-
-
-BEYOND THE GATES.
-
-
-
-
-I.
-
-
-I had been ill for several weeks with what they called brain fever. The
-events which I am about to relate happened on the fifteenth day of my
-illness.
-
-Before beginning to tell my story, it may not be out of place to say a
-few words about myself, in order to clarify to the imagination of the
-reader points which would otherwise involve numerous explanatory
-digressions, more than commonly misplaced in a tale dealing with the
-materials of this.
-
-I am a woman forty years of age. My father was a clergyman; he had been
-many years dead. I was living, at the time I refer to, in my mother’s
-house in a factory town in Massachusetts. The town need not be more
-particularly mentioned, nor genuine family names given, for obvious
-reasons. I was the oldest of four children; one of my sisters was
-married, one was at home with us, and there was a boy at college.
-
-I was an unmarried, but not an unhappy woman. I had reached a very busy,
-and sometimes I hoped a not altogether valueless, middle age. I had used
-life and loved it. Beyond the idle impulse of a weary moment, which
-signifies no more than the reflex action of a mental muscle, and which I
-had been in the habit of rating accordingly, I had never wished to die.
-I was well, vigorous, and active. I was not of a dependent or a
-despondent temperament.
-
-I am not writing an autobiography, and these things, not of importance
-in themselves, require only the briefest allusion. They will serve to
-explain the general cast of my life, which in turn may define the
-features of my story.
-
-There are two kinds of solitary: he who is drawn by the inward, and he
-who chooses the outward life. To this latter class I had belonged.
-Circumstances, which it is not necessary to detail here, had thrust me
-into the one as a means of self-preservation from the other, while I was
-yet quite young.
-
-I had been occupied more largely with the experiences of other people
-than with my own. I had been in the habit of being depended upon. It had
-been my great good fortune to be able to spend a part of my time among
-the sick, the miserable, and the poor. It had been, perhaps, my better
-chance to be obliged to balance the emotional perils of such occupations
-by those of a different character. My business was that of a
-school-teacher, but I had traveled somewhat; I had served as a nurse
-during the latter years of the war; in the Sanitary Commission; upon the
-Freedmen’s Bureau; as an officer in a Woman’s Prison, and had done a
-little work for the State Bureau of Labor among the factory operatives
-of our own town. I had therefore, it will be seen, been spared the
-deterioration of a monotonous existence. At the time I was taken ill I
-was managing a private school, rather large for the corps of assistants
-which I could command, and had overworked. I had been at home, thus
-employed, with my mother who needed me, for two years.
-
-It may not be unsuitable, before proceeding with my narrative, to say
-that I had been a believer in the truths of the Christian religion; not,
-however, a devotee. I had not the ecstatic temperament, and was not
-known among my friends for any higher order of piety than that which is
-implied in trying to do one’s duty for Christ’s sake, and saying little
-about it or Him,--less than I wish I had sometimes. It was natural to me
-to speak in other ways than by words; that does not prove that it was
-best. I had read a little, like all thinking people with any
-intellectual margin to their lives, of the religious controversies of
-the day, and had not been without my share of pressure from the
-fashionable reluctance to believe. Possibly this had affected a
-temperament not too much inclined towards the supernatural, but it had
-never conquered my faith, which I think had grown to be dearer to me
-because I had not kept it without a fight for it. It certainly had
-become, for this reason, of greater practical value. It certainly had
-become, for this and every reason, the most valuable thing I had, or
-hoped to have. I believed in God and immortality, and in the history of
-Jesus Christ. I respected and practiced prayer, but chiefly decided what
-I ought to do next minute. I loved life and lived it. I neither feared
-death nor thought much about it.
-
- * * * * *
-
-When I had been ill a fortnight, it occurred to me that I was very sick,
-but not that I could possibly die. I suffered a good deal at first;
-after that much less. There was great misery for lack of sleep, and
-intolerable restlessness. The worst, however, was the continuity of
-care. Those who have borne heavy responsibilities for any length of time
-will understand me. The incessant burden pressed on: now a pupil had
-fallen into some disgraceful escapade; now the investments of my
-mother’s, of which I had the charge, had failed on the dividends; then
-I had no remittance for the boy at college; then my sister, in a
-heart-breaking emergency, confided to me a peril against which I could
-not lift a finger; the Governor held me responsible for the typhoid
-among the prisoners; I added eternal columns of statistics for the
-Charity Boards, and found forever a mistake in each report; a dying
-soldier called to me in piercing tones for a cup of water; the black
-girl to whom I read the Gospel of John, drowned her baby; I ran six
-looms in the mill for the mother of six children till her seventh should
-be born; I staked the salvation of my soul upon answering the argument
-of Strauss to the satisfaction of an unbelieving friend, and lost my
-wager; I heard my classes in Logic, and was unable to repeat anything
-but the “Walrus and the Carpenter,” for the “Barbara Celarent.”
-Suddenly, one day, in the thick of this brain-battle, I slipped upon a
-pause, in which I distinctly heard a low voice say,
-
- “But Thine eternal thoughts move on,
- Thine undisturbed affairs.”
-
-It was my mother’s voice. I perceived then that she sat at my bedside in
-the red easy-chair, repeating hymns, poor soul! in the hope of calming
-me.
-
-I put out my hand and patted her arm, but it did not occur to me to
-speak till I saw that there were masses of pansies and some mignonette
-upon the table, and I asked who sent them, and she told me the
-school-girls had kept them fresh there every day since I was taken ill.
-I felt some pleasure that they should take the trouble to select the
-flowers I preferred. Then I asked her where the jelly came from, and the
-grapes, and about other trifles that I saw, such as accumulate in any
-sick-room. Then she gave me the names of different friends and neighbors
-who had been so good as to remember me. Chiefly I was touched by the
-sight of a straggly magenta geranium which I noticed growing in a pot by
-the window, and which a poor woman from the mills had brought the day
-before. I asked my mother if there were any letters, and she said, many,
-but that I must not hear them read; she spoke of some from the prison.
-The door-bell often rang softly, and I asked why it was muffled, and who
-called. Alice had come in, and said something in an undertone to mother
-about the Grand Army and resolutions and sympathy; and she used the
-names of different people I had almost forgotten, and this confused me.
-They stopped talking, and I became at once very ill again.
-
-The next point which I recall is turning to see that the doctor was in
-the room. I was in great suffering, and he gave me a few spoonfuls of
-something which he said would secure sleep. I desired to ask him what it
-was, as I objected to narcotics, and preferred to bear whatever was
-before me with the eyes of my mind open, but as soon as I tried to speak
-I forgot what I wished to say.
-
-I do not know how long it was before the truth approached me, but it was
-towards evening of that day, the fifteenth, as I say, of my illness,
-that I said aloud:
-
-“Mother, Tom is in the room. Why has Tom come home?”
-
-Tom was my little brother at college. He came towards the bed as I
-spoke. He had his hat in his hand, and he put it up before his eyes.
-
-“Mother!” I repeated louder than before. “_Why have you sent for Tom?_”
-
-But Mother did not answer me. She leaned over me. I saw her looking
-down. She had the look that she had when my father died; though I was so
-young when that happened, I had never forgotten my mother’s look; and I
-had never seen it since, from that day until this hour.
-
-“Mother! am I so sick as _that_? MOTHER!”
-
-“Oh, my dear!” cried Mother. “Oh my dear, my dear!” ...
-
-So after that I understood. I was greatly startled that they should feel
-me to be dangerously ill; but I was not alarmed.
-
-“It is nonsense,” I said, after I had thought about it a little while.
-“Dr. Shadow was always a croaker. I have no idea of dying! I have nursed
-too many sicker people than I am. I don’t _intend_ to die! I am able to
-sit up now, if I want to. Let me try.”
-
-“I’ll hold you,” said Tom, softly enough. This pleased me. He lifted all
-the pillows, and held me straight out upon his mighty arms. Tom was a
-great athlete--took the prizes at the gymnasium. No weaker man could
-have supported me for fifteen minutes in the strained position by which
-he found that he could give me comfort and so gratify my whim. Tom held
-me a long time; I think it must have been an hour; but I began to suffer
-again, and could not judge of time. I wondered how that big boy got such
-infinite tenderness into those iron muscles. I felt a great respect for
-human flesh and bone and blood, and for the power and preciousness of
-the living human body. It seemed much more real to me, then, than the
-spirit. It seemed an absurdity that any one should suppose that I was in
-danger of being done with life. I said:--
-
-“I’m going to live, Tom! Tell Mother I have no idea of dying. I prefer
-to live.”
-
-Tom nodded; he did not speak; I felt a hot dash of tears on my face,
-which surprised me; I had not seen Tom cry since he lost the football
-match when he was eleven years old.
-
-They gave me something more out of the spoon, again, I think, at that
-moment, and I felt better. I said to Tom:--
-
-“You see!” and bade them send Mother to lie down, and asked Alice to
-make her beef-tea, and to be sure and make it as we did in the army. I
-do not remember saying anything more after this. I certainly did not
-suffer any more. I felt quiet and assured. Nothing farther troubled me.
-The room became so still that I thought they must all have gone away,
-and left me with the nurse, and that she, finding me so well, had
-herself fallen asleep. This rested me--to feel that I was no longer
-causing them pain--more than anything could have done; and I began to
-think the best thing I could do would be to take a nap myself.
-
-With this conviction quietly in mind I turned over, with my face towards
-the wall, to go to sleep. I grew calmer, and yet more calm, as I lay
-there. There was a cross of Swiss carving on the wall, hanging over a
-picture of my father. Leonardo’s Christ--the one from the drawing for
-the Last Supper, that we all know--hung above both these. Owing to my
-position, I could not see the other pictures in the room, which was
-large, and filled with little things, the gifts of those who had been
-kind to me in a life of many busy years. Only these three objects--the
-cross, the Christ, and my father--came within range of my eyes as the
-power of sleep advanced. The room was darkened, as it had been since I
-became so ill, so that I was not sure whether it were night or day. The
-clock was striking. I think it struck two; and I perceived the odor of
-the mignonette. I think it was the last thing I noticed before going to
-sleep, and I remembered, as I did so, the theories which gave to the
-sense of smell greater significance than any of the rest; and remembered
-to have read that it was either the last or the first to give way in the
-dying. (I could not recall, in my confused condition, which.) I thought
-of this with pleased and idle interest; but did not associate the
-thought with the alarm felt by my friends about my condition.
-
-I could have slept but a short time when I woke, feeling much easier.
-The cross, the Christ, and the picture of my father looked at me calmly
-from the wall on which the sick-lamp cast a steady, soft light. Then I
-remembered that it was night, of course, and felt chagrined that I could
-have been confused on this point.
-
-The room seemed close to me, and I turned over to ask for more air.
-
-As I did so, I saw some one sitting in the cushioned window-seat by the
-open window--the eastern window. No one had occupied this seat, on
-account of the draught and chill, since my illness. As I looked
-steadily, I saw that the person who sat there was my father.
-
-His face was turned away, but his figure and the contour of his noble
-head were not to be mistaken. Although I was a mere girl when he died, I
-felt no hesitation about this. I knew at once, and beyond all doubt,
-that it was he. I experienced pleasure, but little, if any, surprise.
-
-As I lay there looking at him, he turned and regarded me. His deep eyes
-glowed with a soft, calm light; but yet, I know not why, they expressed
-more love than I had ever seen in them before. He used to love us
-nervously and passionately. He had now the look of one whose whole
-nature is saturated with rest, and to whom the fitfulness, distrust, or
-distress of intense feeling acting upon a super-sensitive organization,
-were impossible. As he looked towards me, he smiled. He had one of the
-sweetest smiles that ever illuminated a mortal face.
-
-“Why, Father!” I said aloud. He nodded encouragingly, but did not speak.
-
-“Father?” I repeated, “Father, is this _you_?” He laughed a little,
-softly, putting up one hand and tossing his hair off from his
-forehead--an old way of his.
-
-“What are you here for?” I asked again. “Did Mother send for _you_,
-too?”
-
-When I had said this, I felt confused and troubled; for though I did not
-remember that he was dead--I mean I did not put the thought in any such
-form to myself, or use that word or any of its synonyms--yet I
-remembered that he had been absent from our family circle for a good
-while, and that if Mother had sent for him because I had a brain fever,
-it would have been for some reason not according to her habit.
-
-“It is strange,” I said. “It isn’t like her. I don’t understand the
-thing at all.”
-
-Now, as I continued to look at the corner of the room where my father
-was sitting, I saw that he had risen from the cushioned window-seat, and
-taken a step or two towards me. He stopped, however, and stood quite
-still, and looked at me most lovingly and longingly; and _then_ it was
-that he held out his arms to me.
-
-“Oh,” cried I, “I wish I could come! But you don’t know how sick I am. I
-have not walked a step for over two weeks.”
-
-He did not speak even yet, but still held out his arms with that look of
-unutterably restful love. I felt the elemental tie between parent and
-child draw me. It seemed to me as if I had reached the foundation of all
-human feeling; as if I had gone down--how shall I say it?--below the
-depths of all other love. I had always known I loved him, but not like
-that. I was greatly moved.
-
-“But you don’t understand me,” I repeated with some agitation. “I
-_can’t_ walk.” I thought it very strange that he did not, in
-consideration of my feebleness, come to me.
-
-Then for the first time he spoke.
-
-“Come,” he said gently. His voice sounded quite natural; I only noticed
-that he spoke under his breath, as if not to awake the nurse, or any
-person who was in the room.
-
-At this, I moved, and sat up on the edge of my bed; although I did so
-easily enough, I lost courage at that point. It seemed impossible to go
-farther. I felt a little chilly, and remembered, too, that I was not
-dressed. A warm white woolen wrapper of my own, and my slippers, were
-within reach, by the head of the bed; Alice wore them when she watched
-with me. I put these things on, and then paused, expecting to be
-overcome with exhaustion after the effort. To my surprise, I did not
-feel tired at all. I believe, rather, I felt a little stronger. As I put
-the clothes on, I noticed the magenta geranium across the room. These,
-I think, were the only things which attracted my attention.
-
-“Come here to me,” repeated Father; he spoke more decidedly, this time
-with a touch of authority. I remembered hearing him speak just so when
-Tom was learning to walk; he began by saying, “Come, sonny boy!” but
-when the baby played the coward, he said, “My son, come here!”
-
-As if I had been a baby, I obeyed. I put my feet to the floor, and found
-that I stood strongly. I experienced a slight giddiness for a moment,
-but when this passed, my head felt clearer than before. I walked
-steadily out into the middle of the room. Each step was firmer than the
-other. As I advanced, he came to meet me. My heart throbbed. I thought I
-should have fallen, not from weakness, but from joy.
-
-“Don’t be afraid,” he said encouragingly; “that is right. You are doing
-finely. Only a few steps more. There!”
-
-It was done. I had crossed the distance which separated us, and my dear
-Father, after all those years, took me, as he used to do, into his
-arms....
-
-He was the first to speak, and he said:--
-
-“You poor little girl!--But it is over now.”
-
-“Yes, it is over now,” I answered. I thought he referred to the
-difficult walk across the room, and to my long illness, now so happily
-at an end. He smiled and patted me on the cheek, but made no other
-answer.
-
-“I must tell Mother that you are here,” I said presently. I had not
-looked behind me or about me. Since the first sight of my father sitting
-in the window, I had not observed any other person, and could not have
-told who was in the room.
-
-“Not yet,” my father said. “We may not speak to her at present. I think
-we had better go.”
-
-I lifted my face to say, “Go where?” but my lips did not form the
-question. It was just as it used to be when he came from the study and
-held out his hand, and said “Come,” and I went anywhere with him,
-neither asking, nor caring, so long as it was with him; and then he used
-to play or walk with me, and I forgot the whole world besides. I put my
-hand in his without a question, and we moved towards the door.
-
-“I suppose _you_ had better go this way,” he said, with a slight
-hesitation, as we passed out and across the hall.
-
-“Any way you like best,” I said joyfully. He smiled, and still keeping
-my hand, led me down the stairs. As we went down, I heard the little
-Swiss clock, above in my room, strike the half hour after two.
-
-I noticed everything in the hall as we descended; it was as if my
-vision, as well as the muscles of motion, grew stronger with each
-moment. I saw the stair-carpeting with its faded Brussels pattern, once
-rich, and remembered counting the red roses on it the night I went up
-with the fever on me; reeling and half delirious, wondering how I could
-possibly afford to be sick. I saw the hat-tree with Tom’s coat, and
-Alice’s blue Shetland shawl across the old hair-cloth sofa. As we
-opened the door, I saw the muffled bell. I stood for a moment upon the
-threshold of my old home, not afraid but perplexed.
-
-My father seemed to understand my thoughts perfectly, though I had not
-spoken, and he paused for my reluctant mood. I thought of all the years
-I had spent there. I thought of my childhood and girlhood; of the
-tempestuous periods of life which that quiet roof had hidden; of the
-calms upon which it had brooded. I thought of sorrows that I had
-forgotten, and those which I had prayed in vain to forget. I thought of
-temptations and of mistakes and of sins, from which I had fled back
-asking these four walls to shelter me. I thought of the comfort and
-blessedness that I had never failed to find in the old house. I shrank
-from leaving it. It seemed like leaving my body.
-
-When the door had been opened, the night air rushed in. I could see the
-stars, and knew, rather than felt, that it was cold. As we stood
-waiting, an icicle dropped from the eaves, and fell, breaking into a
-dozen diamond flashes at our feet. Beyond, it was dark.
-
-“It seems to me a great exposure,” I said reluctantly, “to be taken out
-into a winter night,--at such an hour, too! I have been so very sick.”
-
-“Are you cold?” asked my father gently. After some thought I said:--
-
-“No, sir.”
-
-For I was not cold. For the first time I wondered why.
-
-“Are you tired?”
-
-No, I was not tired.
-
-“Are you afraid?”
-
-“A little, I think, sir.”
-
-“Would you like to go back, Molly, and rest awhile?”
-
-“If you please, Papa.”
-
-The old baby-word came instinctively in answer to the baby-name. He led
-me like a child, and like a child I submitted. It was like him to be so
-thoughtful of my weakness. My dear father was always one of those rare
-men who think of little things largely, and so bring, especially into
-the lives of women, the daily comfort which makes the infinite
-preciousness of life.
-
-We went into the parlor and sat down. It was warm there and pleasant.
-The furnace was well on, and embers still in the grate. The lamps were
-not lighted, yet the room was not dark. I enjoyed being down there again
-after all those weeks up-stairs, and was happy in looking at the
-familiar things, the afghan on the sofa, and the magazines on the table,
-uncut because of my illness; Mother’s work-basket, and Alice’s music
-folded away.
-
-“It was always a dear old room,” said Father, seating himself in his own
-chair, which we had kept for twenty years in its old place. He put his
-head back, and gazed peacefully about.
-
-When I felt rested, and better, I asked him if we should start now.
-
-“Just as you please,” he said quietly. “There is no hurry. We are never
-hurried.”
-
-“If we have anything to do,” I said, “I had rather do it now I think.”
-
-“Very well,” said Father, “that is like you.” He rose and held out his
-hand again. I took it once more, and once more we went out to the
-threshold of our old home. This time I felt more confidence, but when
-the night air swept in, I could not help shrinking a little in spite of
-myself, and showing the agitation which overtook me.
-
-“Father!” I cried, “Father! _where_ are we going?”
-
-My father turned at this, and looked at me solemnly. His face seemed to
-shine and glow. He looked from what I felt was a great height. He
-said:--
-
-“Are you really afraid, Mary, to go _any_where with me?”
-
-“No, no!” I protested in a passion of regret and trust, “my dear father!
-I would go any where in earth or Heaven with you!”
-
-“Then come,” he said softly.
-
-I clasped both hands, interlocking them through his arm, and we shut the
-door and went down the steps together and out into the winter dawn.
-
-
-
-
-II.
-
-
-It was neither dark nor day; and as we stepped into the village streets
-the confused light trembled about us delicately. The stars were still
-shining. Snow was on the ground; and I think it had freshly fallen in
-the night, for I noticed that the way before us lay quite white and
-untrodden. I looked back over my shoulders as my father closed the gate,
-which he did without noise. I meant to take a gaze at the old house,
-from which, with a thrill at the heart, I began to feel that I was
-parting under strange and solemn conditions. But when I glanced up the
-path which we had taken, my attention was directed altogether from the
-house, and from the slight sadness of the thought I had about it.
-
-The circumstance which arrested me was this. Neither my father’s foot
-nor mine had left any print upon the walk. From the front door to the
-street, the fine fair snow lay unbroken; it stirred, and rose in
-restless flakes like winged creatures under the gentle wind, flew a
-little way, and fell again, covering the surface of the long white path
-with a foam so light, it seemed as if thought itself could not have
-passed upon it without impression. I can hardly say why I did not call
-my father’s attention to this fact.
-
-As we walked down the road the dawn began to deepen. The stars paled
-slowly. The intense blue-black and purple of the night sky gave way to
-the warm grays that precede sunrise in our climate. I saw that the gold
-and the rose were coming. It promised to be a mild morning, warmer than
-for several days. The deadly chill was out of the air. The snow yielded
-on the outlines of the drifts, and relaxed as one looked at it, as snow
-does before melting, and the icicles had an air of expectation, as if
-they hastened to surrender to the annunciation of a warm and impatient
-winter’s day.
-
-“It is going to thaw,” I said aloud.
-
-“It seems so to you,” replied my father, vaguely.
-
-“But at least it is very pleasant,” I insisted.
-
-“I’m glad you find it so,” he said; “I should have been disappointed if
-it had struck you as cold, or--gloomy--in any way.”
-
-It was still so early that all the village was asleep. The blinds and
-curtains of the houses were drawn and the doors yet locked. None of our
-neighbors were astir, nor were there any signs of traffic yet in the
-little shops. The great factory-bell, which woke the operatives at
-half-past four, had rung, but this was the only evidence as yet of human
-life or motion. It did not occur to me, till afterwards, to wonder at
-the inconsistency between the hour struck by my own Swiss clock and the
-factory time.
-
-I was more interested in another matter which just then presented itself
-to me.
-
-The village, as I say, was still asleep. Once I heard the distant hoofs
-of a horse sent clattering after the doctor, and ridden by a messenger
-from a household in mortal need. Up to this time we two had seemed to
-be the only watchers in all the world.
-
-Now, as I turned to see if I could discover whose horse it was and so
-who was in emergency, I observed suddenly that the sidewalk was full of
-people. I say full of people; I mean that there was a group behind us; a
-few, also, before us; some, too, were crossing the street. They
-conversed together standing at the corners, or walked in twos, as father
-and I were doing; or strolled, some of them alone. Some of them seemed
-to have immediate business and to be in haste; others sauntered as he
-who has no occupation. Some talked and gesticulated earnestly, or
-laughed loudly. Others went with a thoughtful manner, speaking not at
-all.
-
-As I watched them I began to recognize here and there, a man, or a
-woman;--there were more men than women among them, and there were no
-children.
-
-A few of these people, I soon saw, were old neighbors of ours; some I
-had known when I was a child, and had forgotten till this moment.
-Several of them bowed to us as we passed along. One man stopped and
-waited for us, and spoke to Father, who shook hands with him;
-intimating, however, pleasantly enough, that he was in haste, and must
-be excused for passing on.
-
-“Yes, yes, I see,” said the man with a glance at me. I then distinctly
-saw this person’s face, and knew him beyond a doubt, for an old
-neighbor, a certain Mr. Snarl, a miserly, sanctimonious man--I had never
-liked him.
-
-“Father!” I stopped short. “Father, that man is dead. He has been dead
-for twenty years!”
-
-Now, at this, I began to tremble; yet not from fear, I think; from
-amazement, rather, and the great confusion which I felt.
-
-“And there”--I pointed to a pale young man who had been thrown from his
-carriage (it was said because he was in no condition to drive)--“there
-is Bobby Bend. He died last winter.”
-
-“Well,” said Father quietly, “and what then?”
-
-“And over there--why, certainly that is Mrs. Mersey!”
-
-I had known Mrs. Mersey for a lovely woman. She died of a fever
-contracted in the care of a poor, neglected creature. I saw her at this
-moment across and far down the street, coming from a house where there
-was trouble. She came with a swift, elastic motion, unlike that of any
-of the others who were about us; the difference was marked, and yet one
-which I should have found it at that time impossible to describe.
-Perhaps I might have said that she hovered above rather than touched the
-earth; but this would not have defined the distinction. As I looked
-after her she disappeared; in what direction I could not tell.
-
-“So they _are_ dead people,” I said, with a sort of triumph; almost as
-if I had dared my father to deny it. He smiled.
-
-“Father, I begin to be perplexed. I have heard of these hallucinations,
-of course, and read the authenticated stories, but I never supposed I
-could be a subject of such illusions. It must be because I have been so
-sick.”
-
-“Partly because you have been so sick--yes,” said Father drawing down
-the corners of his mouth, in that way he had when he was amused. I went
-on to tell him that it seemed natural to see him, but that I was
-surprised to meet those others who had left us, and that I did not find
-it altogether agreeable.
-
-“Are you afraid?” he asked me, as he had before. No, I could not say
-that I was afraid.
-
-“Then hasten on,” he said in a different tone, “our business is not with
-them, at present. See! we have already left them behind.”
-
-And, indeed, when I glanced back, I saw that we had. We, too, were now
-traveling alone together, and at a much faster speed, towards the
-outskirts of the town. We were moving eastward. Before us the splendid
-day was coming up. The sky was unfolding, shade above shade, paler at
-the edge, and glowing at the heart, like the petals of a great rose.
-
-The snow was melting on the moors towards which we bent our steps; the
-water stood here and there in pools, and glistened. A little winter
-bird--some chickadee or wood-pecker--was bathing in one of these pools;
-his tiny brown body glowed in the brightness, flashing to and fro. He
-chirped and twittered and seemed bursting with joy. As we approached the
-moors, the stalks of the sumachs, the mulberries, the golden-rod, and
-asters, all the wayside weeds and the brown things that we never know
-and never love till winter, rose beautiful from the snow; the icicles
-melted and dripped from them; the dead-gold-colored leaves of the low
-oaks rustled; at a distance we heard the sweet sough from a grove of
-pines; behind us the morning bells of the village broke into bubbles of
-cheerful sound. As we walked on together I felt myself become stronger
-at every step; my heart grew light.
-
-“It is a good world,” I cried, “it is a good world!”
-
-“So it is,” said my father heartily, “and yet--my dear daughter”--He
-hesitated; so long that I looked into his face earnestly, and then I saw
-that a strange gravity had settled upon it. It was not like any look
-that I had ever seen there before.
-
-“I have better things to show you,” he said gently.
-
-“I do not understand you, sir.”
-
-“We have only begun our journey, Mary; and--if you do not
-understand--but I thought you would have done so by this time--I wonder
-if she _is_ going to be frightened after all!”
-
-We were now well out upon the moors, alone together, on the side of the
-hill. The town looked far behind us and insignificant. The earth
-dwindled and the sky grew, as we looked from one to the other. It seemed
-to me that I had never before noticed how small a portion of our range
-of vision is filled by the surface of earth, and what occupies it; and
-how immense the proportion of the heavens. As we stood there, it seemed
-to overwhelm us.
-
-“Rise,” said my father in a voice of solemn authority, “rise quickly!”
-
-I struggled at his words, for he seemed to slip from me, and I feared to
-lose him. I struggled and struck out into the air; I felt a wild
-excitement, like one plunged into a deep sea, and desperately swimming,
-as animals do, and a few men, from blind instinct, having never learned.
-My father spoke encouragingly, and with tenderness. He never once let go
-my hand. I felt myself, beyond all doubt, soaring--slowly and
-weakly--but surely ascending above the solid ground.
-
-“See! there is nothing to fear,” he said from time to time. I did not
-answer. My heart beat fast. I exerted all my strength and took a
-stronger stroke. I felt that I gained upon myself. I closed my eyes,
-looking neither above nor below.
-
-Suddenly, as gently as the opening of a water lily, and yet as swiftly
-as the cleaving of the lightning, there came to me a thought which made
-my brain whirl, and I cried aloud:
-
-“Father, _am I_ DEAD?” My hands slipped--I grew dizzy--wavered--and
-fluttered. I was sure that I should fall. At that instant I was caught
-with the iron of tenderness and held, like a very young child, in my
-father’s arms. He said nothing, only patted me on the cheek, as we
-ascended, he seeing, and I blind; he strength, and I weakness; he who
-knew all, and I who knew nothing, silently with the rising sun athwart
-the rose-lit air.
-
-I was awed, more than there are words to say; but I felt no more fear
-than I used to do when he carried me on his shoulder up the garden walk,
-after it grew dark, when I was tired out with play.
-
-
-
-
-III.
-
-
-I use the words “ascension” and “arising” in the superficial sense of
-earthly imagery. Of course, carefully speaking, there can be no up or
-down to the motion of beings detached from a revolving globe, and set
-adrift in space. I thought of this in the first moment, with the
-keenness which distinguishes between knowledge and experience. I knew
-when our journey came to an end, by the gradual cessation of our rapid
-motion; but at first I did not incline to investigate beyond this fact.
-Whether I was only tired, or giddy, or whether a little of what we used
-to call faintness overcame me, I can hardly say. If this were so, it was
-rather a spiritual than a physical disability; it was a faintness of the
-soul. Now I found this more energetic than the bodily sensations I had
-known. I scarcely sought to wrestle against it, but lay quite still,
-where we had come to a halt.
-
-I wish to say here, that if you ask me where this was, I must answer
-that I do not know. I must say distinctly that, though after the act of
-dying I departed from the surface of the earth, and reached the confines
-of a different locality, I cannot yet instruct another _where_ this
-place may be.
-
-My impression that it was not a vast distance (measured, I mean, by an
-astronomical scale) from our globe, is a strong one, which, however, I
-cannot satisfactorily defend. There seemed to be flowers about me; I
-wondered what they were, but lay with my face hidden in my arm, not
-caring yet to look about. I thought of that old-fashioned allegory
-called “The Distant Hills,” where the good girl, when she died, sank
-upon a bed of violets; but the bad girl slipped upon rolling stones
-beneath a tottering ruin. This trifling memory occupied me for some
-moments; yet it had so great significance to me, that I recall it, even
-now, with pungent gratitude.
-
-“I shall remember what I have read.” This was my first thought in the
-new state to which I had come. Minna was the name of the girl in the
-allegory. The illustrations were very poor, but had that uncanny
-fascination which haunts allegorical pictures--often the more powerful
-because of their rudeness.
-
-As I lay there, still not caring, or even not daring to look up, the
-fact that I was crushing flowers beneath me became more apparent; a
-delicate perfume arose and surrounded me; it was like and yet unlike any
-that I had ever known; its familiarity entranced, its novelty allured
-me. Suddenly I perceived what it was--
-
-“Mignonette!”
-
-I laughed at my own dullness in detecting it, and could not help
-wondering whether it were accident or design that had given me for my
-first experience in the new life, the gratification of a little personal
-taste like this. For a few moments I yielded to the pure and exquisite
-perfume, which stole into my whole nature, or it seemed to me so then.
-Afterwards I learned how little I knew of my “whole nature” at that
-time.
-
-Presently I took courage, and lifted my head. I hardly know what I
-expected to see. Visions of the Golden City in the Apocalypse had
-flitted before me. I thought of the River of Death in the “Pilgrim’s
-Progress,” of the last scene in the “Voyage of Life,” of Theremin’s
-“Awakening,” of several famous books and pictures which I had read or
-seen, describing what we call Heaven. These works of the human
-imagination--stored away perhaps in the frontal lobes of the brain, as
-scientists used to tell us--had influenced my anticipations more than I
-could have believed possible till that moment.
-
-I was indeed in a beautiful place; but it did not look, in any respect,
-as I had expected. No; I think not in any respect. Many things which
-happened to me later, I can describe more vividly than I can this first
-impression. In one way it was a complex, in another, a marvelously
-simple one. Chiefly, I think I had a consciousness of safety--infinite
-safety. All my soul drew a long breath--“Nothing more can happen to me!”
-Yet, at the same time, I felt that I was at the outset of all
-experience. It was as if my heart cried aloud, “Where shall I begin?”
-
-I looked about and abroad. My father stood at a little distance from me,
-conversing with some friends. I did not know them. They had great
-brightness and beauty of appearance. So, also, had he. He had altered
-perceptibly since he met me in the lower world, and seemed to glow and
-become absorbent of light from some source yet unseen. This struck me
-forcibly in all the people whom I saw--there were many of them, going to
-and fro busily--that they were receptive and reflecting beings. They
-differed greatly in the degree in which they gave this impression; but
-all gave it. Some were quite pale, though pure in color; others glowed
-and shone. Yet when I say color, I use an earthly word, which does not
-express my meaning. It was more the atmosphere or penumbra, in which
-each moved, that I refer to, perhaps, than the tint of their bodies.
-They had bodies, very like such as I was used to. I saw that I myself
-was not, or so it appeared, greatly changed. I had form and dress, and I
-moved at will, and experienced sensations of pleasure and, above all, of
-magnificent health. For a while I was absorbed, without investigating
-details, in the mere sense of physical ease and power. I did not wish to
-speak, or to be spoken to, nor even to stir and exercise my splendid
-strength. It was more than enough to feel it, after all those weeks of
-pain. I lay back again upon the mignonette; as I did so, I noticed that
-the flowers where my form had pressed them were not bruised; they had
-sprung erect again; they had not wilted, nor even hung their heads as if
-they were hurt--I lay back upon, and deep within, the mignonette, and,
-drowned in the delicate odor, gazed about me.
-
-Yes; I was truly in a wonderful place. It was in the country (as we
-should say below), though I saw signs of large centres of life, outlines
-of distant architecture far away. There were hills, and vast distances,
-and vistas of hill tints in the atmosphere. There were forests of great
-depth. There was an expanse of shining water. There were fields of fine
-extent and color, undulating like green seas. The sun was high--if it
-were the sun. At least there was great brilliance about me. Flowers must
-have been abundant, for the air was alive with perfumes.
-
-When I have said this, I seem to have said little or nothing. Certain it
-is that these first impressions came to me in broad masses, like the
-sweep of a large brush or blender upon canvas. Of details I received
-few, for a long time. I was overcome with a sense of
-Nature--freedom--health--beauty, as if--how shall I say it?--as if for
-the first time I understood what generic terms meant; as if I had
-entered into the secret of all abstract glory; as if what we had known
-as philosophical or as poetical phrases were now become attainable
-facts, each possessing that individual existence in which dreamers upon
-earth dare to believe, and of which no doubter can be taught.
-
-I am afraid I do not express this with anything like the simplicity
-with which I felt it; and to describe it with anything resembling the
-power would be impossible.
-
-I felt my smallness and ignorance in view of the wonders which lay
-before me. “I shall have time enough to study them,” I thought, but the
-thought itself thrilled me throughout, and proved far more of an
-excitant than a sedative. I rose slowly, and stood trembling among the
-mignonette. I shielded my eyes with my hand, not from any glare or
-dazzle or strain, but only from the presence and the pressure of beauty,
-and so stood looking off. As I did so, certain words came to mind with
-the haunting voice of a broken quotation:
-
- “_Neither have entered into the heart of man_”--
- “_The things which God hath prepared_”--
-
-It was a relief to me to see my father coming towards me at that moment,
-for I had, perhaps, undergone as much keen emotion as one well bears,
-compressed into a short space of time. He met me smiling.
-
-“And how is it, Mary?”
-
-“My first Bible verse has just occurred to me, Father--the first
-religious thought I’ve had in Heaven yet!” I tried to speak lightly,
-feeling too deeply for endurance. I repeated the words to him, for he
-asked me what they were which had come to me.
-
-“That is a pleasant experience,” he said quietly. “It differs with us
-all. I have seen people enter in a transport of haste to see the Lord
-Himself--noticing nothing, forgetting everything. I have seen others
-come in a transport of terror--so afraid they were of Him.”
-
-“And I had scarcely thought about seeing Him till now!” I felt ashamed
-of this. But my father comforted me by a look.
-
-“Each comes to his own by his own,” he said. “The nature is never
-forced. Here we unfold like a leaf, a flower. He expects nothing of us
-but to be natural.”
-
-This seemed to me a deep saying; and the more I thought of it the deeper
-it seemed. I said so as we walked, separate still from the others,
-through the beautiful weather. The change from a New England winter to
-the climate in which I found myself was, in itself, not the least of
-the great effects and delights which I experienced that first day.
-
-If nothing were expected of us but to be natural, it was the more
-necessary that it should be natural to be right.
-
-I felt the full force of this conviction as it had never been possible
-to feel it in the other state of being, where I was under restraint. The
-meaning of _liberty_ broke upon me like a sunburst. Freedom was in and
-of itself the highest law. Had I thought that death was to mean release
-from personal obedience? Lo, death itself was but the elevation of moral
-claims, from lower to higher. I perceived how all demands of the larger
-upon the lesser self must be increased in the condition to which I had
-arrived. I felt overpowered for the moment with the intensity of these
-claims. It seemed to me that I had never really known before, what
-obligation meant. Conduct was now the least of difficulties. For
-impulse, which lay behind conduct, for all force which wrought out fact
-in me, I had become accountable.
-
-“As nearly as I can make it out, Father,” I said, “henceforth I shall be
-responsible for my nature.”
-
-“Something like that; not altogether.”
-
-“The force of circumstance and heredity,”--I began, using the old
-earthly _patois_. “Of course I’m not to be called to account for what I
-start with here, any more than I was for what I started with there. That
-would be neither science nor philosophy.”
-
-“We are neither unscientific nor unphilosophical, you will find,” said
-my father, patiently.
-
-“I am very dull, sir. Be patient with me. What I am trying to say, I
-believe, is that I shall feel the deepest mortification if I do not find
-it natural to do right. This feeling is so keen, that to be wrong must
-be the most unnatural thing in the world. There is certainly a great
-difference from what it used to be; I cannot explain it. Already I am
-ashamed of the smallness of my thoughts when I first looked about in
-this place. Already I cannot understand why I did not spring like a
-fountain to the Highest, to the Best. But then, Father, I never was a
-devotee, you know.”
-
-When I had uttered these words I felt a recoil from myself, and sense of
-discord. I was making excuses for myself. That used to be a fault of the
-past life. One did not do it here. It was as if I had committed some
-grave social indecorum. I felt myself blushing. My father noticed my
-embarrassment, and called my attention to a brook by which we were
-walking, beginning to talk of its peculiar translucence and rhythm, and
-other little novelties, thus kindly diverting me from my distress, and
-teaching me how we were spared everything we could be in heaven, even in
-trifles like this. I was not so much as permitted to bear the edge of my
-regret, without the velvet of tenderness interposing to blunt the smart.
-It used to be thought among us below that one must be allowed to suffer
-from error, to learn. It seemed to be found here, that one learned by
-being saved from suffering. I wondered how it would be in the case of a
-really grave wrong which I might be so miserable as to commit; and if I
-should ever be so unfortunate as to discover by personal experience.
-
-This train of thought went on while I was examining the brook. It had
-brilliant colors in the shallows, where certain strange agates formed
-pebbles of great beauty. There were also shells. A brook with shells
-enchanted me. I gathered some of them; they had opaline tints, and some
-were transparent as spun glass; they glittered in the hand, and did not
-dull when out of the water, like the shells we were used to. The shadows
-of strange trees hung across the tiny brown current, and unfamiliar
-birds flashed like tossed jewels overhead, through the branches and
-against the wonderful color of the sky. The birds were singing. One
-among them had a marvelous note. I listened to it for some time before I
-discovered that this bird was singing a Te Deum. How I knew that it was
-a Te Deum I cannot say. The others were more like earthly birds, except
-for the thrilling sweetness of their notes--and I could not see this
-one, for she seemed to be hidden from sight upon her nest. I observed
-that the bird upon the nest sang here as well as that upon the bough;
-and that I understood her: “_Te Deum laudamus--laudamus_” as distinctly
-as if I had been listening to a human voice.
-
-When I had comprehended this, and stood entranced to listen, I began to
-catch the same melody in the murmur of the water, and perceived, to my
-astonishment, that the two, the brook and the bird, carried parts of the
-harmony of a solemn and majestic mass. Apparently these were but
-portions of the whole, but all which it was permitted me to hear. My
-father explained to me that it was not every natural beauty which had
-the power to join in such surpassing chorals; these were selected, for
-reasons which he did not attempt to specify. I surmised that they were
-some of the simplest of the wonders of this mythical world, which were
-entrusted to new-comers, as being first within the range of their
-capacities. I was enraptured with what I heard. The light throbbed about
-me. The sweet harmony rang on. I bathed my face in the musical
-water--it was as if I absorbed the sound at the pores of my skin. Dimly
-I received a hint of the possible existence of a sense or senses of
-which I had never heard.
-
-What wonders were to come! What knowledge, what marvel, what stimulation
-and satisfaction! And I had but just begun! I was overwhelmed with this
-thought, and looked about; I knew not which way to turn; I had not what
-to say. Where was the first step? What was the next delight? The fire of
-discovery kindled in my veins. Let us hasten, that we may investigate
-Heaven!
-
-“Shall we go on?” asked Father, regarding me earnestly.
-
-“Yes, yes!” I cried, “let us go on. Let us see more--learn all. What a
-world have I come to! Let us begin at the beginning, and go to the end
-of it! Come quickly!”
-
-I caught his hand, and we started on my eager mood. I felt almost a
-superabundance of vitality, and sprang along; there was everlasting
-health within my bounding arteries; there was eternal vigor in my firm
-muscle and sinews. How shall I express, to one who has never
-experienced it, the consciousness of life that can never die?
-
-I could have leaped, flown, or danced like a child. I knew not how to
-walk sedately, like others whom I saw about us, who looked at me
-smiling, as older people look at the young on earth. “I, too, have felt
-thus--and thus.” I wanted to exercise the power of my arms and limbs. I
-longed to test the triumphant poise of my nerve. My brain grew clearer
-and clearer, while for the gladness in my heart there is not any earthly
-word. As I bounded on, I looked more curiously at the construction of
-the body in which I found myself. It was, and yet it was not, like that
-which I had worn on earth. I seemed to have slipped out of one garment
-into another. Perhaps it was nearer the truth to say that it was like
-casting off an outer for an inner dress. There were nervous and arterial
-and other systems, it seemed, to which I had been accustomed. I cannot
-explain wherein they differed, as they surely did, and did enormously,
-from their representatives below. If I say that I felt as if I had got
-into the _soul of a body_, shall I be understood? It was as if I had
-been encased, one body within the other, to use a small earthly
-comparison, like the ivory figures which curious Chinese carvers cut
-within temple windows. I was constantly surprised at this. I do not know
-what I had expected, but assuredly nothing like the fact. Vague visions
-of gaseous or meteoric angelic forms have their place in the
-imaginations of most of us below; we picture our future selves as a kind
-of nebulosity. When I felt the spiritual flesh, when I used the strange
-muscle, when I heard the new heart-beat of my heavenly identity, I
-remembered certain words, with a sting of mortification that I had known
-them all my life, and paid so cool a heed to them: “There is a
-terrestrial body, and there is a celestial body.” The glory of the
-terrestrial was one. Behold, the glory of the celestial was another. St.
-Paul had set this tremendous assertion revolving in the sky of the human
-mind, like a star which we had not brought into our astronomy.
-
-It was not a hint or a hope that he gave; it was the affirmation of a
-man who presumed to know. In common with most of his readers, I had
-received his statement with a poor incredulity or cold disregard.
-Nothing in the whole range of what we used to call the Bible, had been
-more explicit than those words; neither metaphor, nor allegory, nor
-parable befogged them; they were as clear cut as the dictum of
-Descartes. I recalled them with confusion, as I bounded over the elastic
-and wondrously-tinted grass.
-
-Never before, at least, had I known what the color of green should be;
-resembling, while differing from that called by the name on earth--a
-development of a color, a blossom from a bud, a marvel from a
-commonplace. Thus the sweet and common clothing which God had given to
-our familiar earth, transfigured, wrapped again the hills and fields of
-Heaven. And oh, what else? what next? I turned to my father to ask him
-in which direction we were going; at this moment an arrest of the whole
-current of feeling checked me like a great dam.
-
-Up to this point I had gone dizzily on; I had experienced the thousand
-diversions of a traveler in a foreign land; and, like such a traveler, I
-had become oblivious of that which I had left. The terrible incapacity
-of the human mind to retain more than one class of strong impressions at
-once, was temporarily increased by the strain of this, the greatest of
-all human experiences. The new had expelled the old. In an intense
-revulsion of feeling, too strong for expression, I turned my back on the
-beautiful landscape. All Heaven was before me, but dear, daily love was
-behind.
-
-“Father,” I said, choking, “I never forgot them before in all my life.
-Take me home! Let me go at once. I am not fit to be alive if Heaven
-itself can lead me to neglect my mother.”
-
-
-
-
-IV.
-
-
-In my distress I turned and would have fled, which way I knew not. I was
-swept up like a weed on a surge of self-reproach and longing. What was
-eternal life if she had found out that I was dead? What were the
-splendors of Paradise, if she missed me? It was made evident to me that
-my father was gratified at the turn my impulses had taken, but he
-intimated that it might not be possible to follow them, and that this
-was a matter which must be investigated before acting. This surprised
-me, and I inquired of him eagerly--yet, I think not passionately, not
-angrily, as I should once have done at the thwarting of such a wish as
-that--what he meant by the doubt he raised.
-
-“It is not always permitted,” he said gravely. “We cannot return when we
-would. We go upon these errands when it is Willed. I will go and learn
-what the Will may be for you touching this matter. Stay here and wait
-for me.”
-
-Before I could speak, he had departed swiftly, with the great and glad
-motion of those who go upon sure business in this happy place; as if he
-himself, at least, obeyed unseen directions, and obeyed them with his
-whole being. To me, so lately from a lower life, and still so choked
-with its errors, this loving obedience of the soul to a great central
-Force which I felt on every hand, but comprehended not, as yet, affected
-me like the discovery of a truth in science. It was as if I had found a
-new law of gravitation, to be mastered only by infinite attention. I
-fell to thinking more quietly after my father had left me alone. There
-came a subsidence to my tempestuous impulse, which astonished myself. I
-felt myself drawn and shaped, even like a wave by the tide, by something
-mightier far than my own wish. But there was this about the state of
-feeling into which I had come: that which controlled me was not only
-greater, it was dearer than my desire. Already a calmness conquered my
-storm. Already my heart awaited, without outburst or out-thrust, the
-expression of that other desire which should decide my fate in this most
-precious matter. All the old rebellion was gone, even as the protest of
-a woman goes on earth before the progress of a mighty love. I no longer
-argued and explained. I did not require or insist. Was it possible that
-I did not even doubt? The mysterious, celestial law of gravitation
-grappled me. I could no more presume to understand it than I could
-withstand it.
-
-I had not been what is called a submissive person. All my life,
-obedience had torn me in twain. Below, it had cost me all I had to give,
-to cultivate what believers called trust in God.
-
-I had indeed tried, in a desperate and faulty fashion, but I had often
-been bitterly ashamed at the best result which I could achieve, feeling
-that I scarcely deserved to count myself among His children, or to call
-myself by the Name which represented the absolute obedience of the
-strongest nature that human history had known. Always, under all, I had
-doubted whether I accepted God’s will because I wanted to, so much as
-because I had to. This fear had given me much pain, but being of an
-active temperament, far, perhaps too far, removed from mysticism, I had
-gone on to the next fight, or the next duty, without settling my
-difficulties; and so like others of my sort, battled along through life,
-as best or as worst I might. I had always hurried more than I had grown.
-To be sure, I was not altogether to blame for this, since circumstances
-had driven me fast, and I had yielded to them not always for my own
-sake; but clearly, it may be as much of a misfortune to be too busy, as
-to be idle; and one whose subtlest effects are latest perceived. I could
-now understand it to be reasonable, that if I had taken more time on
-earth to cultivate myself for the conditions of Heaven, I might have had
-a different experience at the outset of this life, in which one was
-never in a hurry.
-
-My father returned from his somewhat protracted absence, while I was
-thinking of these things thus quietly. My calmer mood went out to meet
-his face, from which I saw at once what was the result of his errand,
-and so a gentle process prepared me for my disappointment when he said
-that it was not Willed that I should go to her at this immediate time.
-He advised me to rest awhile before taking the journey, and to seek this
-rest at once. No reasons were given for this command; yet strangely, I
-felt it to be the most reasonable thing in the world.
-
-No; blessedly no! I did not argue, or protest, I did not dash out my
-wild wish, I did not ask or answer anything--how wonderful!
-
-Had I needed proof any longer that I was dead and in Heaven, this
-marvelous adjustment of my will to that other would in itself have told
-me what and where I was.
-
-I cannot say that this process took place without effort. I found a
-certain magnificent effort in it, like that involved in the free use of
-my muscles; but it took place without pain. I did indeed ask,--
-
-“Will it be long?”
-
-“Not long.”
-
-“That is kind in Him!” I remember saying, as we moved away. For now, I
-found that I thought first rather of what He gave than of what He
-denied. It seemed to me that I had acquired a new instinct. My being was
-larger by the acquisition of a fresh power. I felt a little as I used to
-do below, when I had conquered a new language.
-
-I had met, and by his loving mercy I had mastered, my first trial in the
-eternal life. This was to be remembered. It was like the shifting of a
-plate upon a camera.
-
-More wearied than I had thought by the effort, I was glad to sink down
-beneath the trees in a nook my father showed me, and yield to the
-drowsiness that stole upon me after the great excitement of the day. It
-was not yet dark, but I was indeed tired. A singular subsidence, not
-like our twilight, but still reminding one of it, had fallen upon the
-vivid color of the air. No one was passing; the spot was secluded; my
-father bade me farewell for the present, saying that he should return
-again; and I was left alone.
-
-The grass was softer than eider of the lower world; and lighter than
-snow-flakes, the leaves that fell from low-hanging boughs about me.
-Distantly, I heard moving water; and more near, sleepy birds. More
-distant yet, I caught, and lost, and caught again, fragments of
-orchestral music. I felt infinite security. I had the blessedness of
-weariness that knew it could not miss of sleep. Dreams stole upon me
-with motion and touch so exquisite that I thought: “Sleep itself is a
-new joy; what we had below was only a hint of the real thing,” as I sank
-into deep and deeper rest.
-
-Do not think that I forgot my love and longing to be elsewhere. I think
-the wish to see her and to comfort her grew clearer every moment. But
-stronger still, like a comrade marching beside it, I felt the pacing of
-that great desire which had become dearer than my own.
-
-
-
-
-V.
-
-
-When I waked, I was still alone. There seemed to have been showers, for
-the leaves and grass about me were wet; yet I felt no chill or dampness,
-or any kind of injury from this fact. Rather I had a certain
-refreshment, as if my sleeping senses had drunk of the peace and power
-of the dew that flashed far and near about me. The intense excitement
-under which I had labored since coming to this place was calmed. All the
-fevers of feeling were laid. I could not have said whether there had
-been what below we called night, or how the passage of time had marked
-itself; I only knew that I had experienced the recuperation of night,
-and that I sprang to the next duty or delight of existence with the
-vigor of recurring day.
-
-As I rose from the grass, I noticed a four-leaved clover, and
-remembering the pretty little superstition we used to have about it, I
-plucked it, and held it to my face, and so learned that the rain-drop in
-this new land had perfume; an exquisite scent; as if into the essence of
-brown earth and spicy roots, and aromatic green things, such as summer
-rain distills with us from out a fresh-washed world, there were mingled
-an inconceivable odor drawn out of the heart of the sky. Metaphysicians
-used to tell us that no man ever imagined a new perfume, even in his
-dreams. I could see that they were right, for anything like the perfume
-of clover after a rain in Heaven, had never entered into my sense or
-soul before. I saved the clover “for good luck,” as I used to do.
-
-Overhead there was a marvel. There seemed to have been clouds--their
-passing and breaking, and flitting--and now, behold the heavens
-themselves, bared of all their storm-drapery, had drawn across their
-dazzling forms a veil of glory. From what, for want of better knowledge,
-I still called East to West, and North to South, one supernal prism
-swept. The whole canopy of the sky was a rainbow.
-
-It is impossible to describe this sight in any earthly tongue, to any
-dwellers of the earth. I stood beneath it, as a drop stands beneath the
-ocean. For a time I could only feel the surge of beauty--mere
-beauty--roll above me. Then, I think, as the dew had fallen from the
-leaf, so I sunk upon my knees. I prayed because it was natural to pray,
-and felt God in my soul as the prism feels the primary color, while I
-thanked Him that I was immortally alive. It had never been like this
-before, to pray; nay, prayer itself was now one of the discoveries of
-Heaven. It throbbed through me like the beat of a new heart. It seemed
-to me that He must be very near me. Almost it was, as if He and I were
-alone together in the Universe. For the first time, the passionate wish
-to be taken into His very visible presence,--that intense desire which I
-had heard of, as overpowering so many of the newly dead,--began to take
-possession of me. But I put it aside, since it was not permitted, and a
-consciousness of my unfitness came to me, that made the wish itself seem
-a kind of mistake. I think this feeling was not unlike what we called
-below a sense of sin. I did not give it that name at that time. It had
-come to me so naturally and gradually, that there was no strain or pain
-about it. Yet when I had it, I could no longer conceive of being without
-it. It seemed to me that I was a stronger and wiser woman for it. A
-certain gentleness and humility different from what I had been used to,
-in my life of activity, wherein so many depended on me, and on the
-decided faculties of my nature, accompanied the growing sense of
-personal unworthiness with which I entered on the blessedness of
-everlasting life.
-
-I watched the rainbow of the sky till it had begun to fade--an event in
-itself an exquisite wonder, for each tint of the prism flashed out and
-ran in lightning across the heavens before falling to its place in the
-primary color, till at last the whole spectacle was resolved into the
-three elements, the red, the yellow, and the blue; which themselves
-moved on and away, like a conqueror dismissing a pageant.
-
-When this gorgeous scene had ended, I was surprised to find that though
-dead and in Heaven, I was hungry. I gathered fruits which grew near, of
-strange form and flavor, but delicious to the taste past anything I had
-ever eaten, and I drank of the brook where the shells were, feeling
-greatly invigorated thereby. I was beginning to wonder where my father
-was, when I saw him coming towards me. He greeted me with his old
-good-morning kiss, laying his hand upon my head in a benediction that
-filled my soul.
-
-As we moved on together, I asked him if he remembered how we used to say
-below:
-
-“What a heavenly day!”
-
-Many people seemed to be passing on the road which we had chosen, but as
-we walked on they grew fewer.
-
-“There are those who wish to speak with you,” he said with a slight
-hesitation, “but all things can wait here; we learn to wait ourselves.
-You are to go to your mother now.”
-
-“And not with you?” I asked, having a certain fear of the mystery of my
-undertaking. He shook his head with a look more nearly like
-disappointment than anything I had seen upon his face in this new life;
-explaining to me, however, with cheerful acquiescence, that it was not
-Willed that he should join me on my journey.
-
-“Tell her that I come shortly,” he added, “and that I come alone. She
-will understand. And have no fear; you have much to learn, but it will
-come syllable by syllable.”
-
-Now swiftly, at the instant while he spoke with me, I found myself alone
-and in a mountainous region, from which a great outlook was before me. I
-saw the kingdoms of heaven and the glory of them, spread out before me
-like a map. A mist of the colors of amethyst and emerald interfused,
-enwrapped the outlines of the landscape. All details grew blurred and
-beautiful like a dream at which one snatches vainly in the morning. Off,
-and beyond, the infinite ether throbbed. Yonder, like a speck upon a
-sunbeam, swam the tiny globe which we called earth. Stars and suns
-flashed and faded, revolving and waiting in their places. Surely it was
-growing dark, for they sprang out like mighty light-houses upon the
-grayness of the void.
-
-The splendors of the Southern cross streamed far into the strange light,
-neither of night nor day, not of twilight or dawn, which surrounded me.
-
-Colored suns, of which astronomers had indeed taught us, poured
-undreamed-of light upon unknown planets. I passed worlds whose
-luminaries gave them scarlet, green, and purple days. “These too,” I
-thought, “I shall one day visit.” I flashed through currents of awful
-color, and measures of awful night. I felt more than I perceived, and
-wondered more than I feared. It was some moments before I realized, by
-these few astronomical details, that I was adrift, alone upon the
-mystery and mightiness of Space.
-
-Of this strange and solitary journey, I can speak so imperfectly, that
-it were better almost to leave it out of my narrative. Yet, when I
-remember how I have sometimes heard those still upon earth conceive,
-with the great fear and ignorance inseparable from earth-trained
-imagination, of such transits of the soul from point to point in ether,
-I should be glad to express at least the incomplete impressions which I
-received from this experience.
-
-The strongest of these, and the sweetest, was the sense of safety--and
-still the sense of safety; unassailable, everlasting; blessed beyond the
-thought of an insecure life to compass. To be dead was to be dead to
-danger, dead to fear. To be dead was to be alive to a sense of assured
-good chance that nothing in the universe could shake.
-
-So I felt no dread, believe me, though much awe and amazement, as I took
-my first journey from Heaven to earth. I have elsewhere said that the
-distance, by astronomical calculation, was in itself perhaps not
-enormous. I had an impression that I was crossing a great sphere or
-penumbra, belonging to the earth itself, and having a certain relation
-to it, like the soul to the body of a man.
-
-Was Heaven located within or upon this world-soul? The question occurred
-to me, but up to this time, I am still unable to answer it. The transit
-itself was swift and subtle as a thought. Indeed, it seemed to me that
-thought itself might have been my vehicle of conveyance; or perhaps I
-should say, feeling. My love and longing took me up like pollen taken by
-the wind. As I approached the spot where my dear ones dwelt and sorrowed
-for me, desire and speed both increased by a mighty momentum.
-
-Now I did not find this journey as difficult as that other, when I had
-departed, a freshly-freed soul, from earth to Heaven. I learned that I
-was now subject to other natural laws. A celestial gravitation
-controlled the celestial body, as that of the earth had compelled the
-other. I was upborne in space by this new and mysterious influence. Yet
-there was no dispute between it and the other law, the eternal law of
-love, which drew me down. Between soul and body, in the heavenly
-existence, there could be no more conflict than between light and an
-ether wave.
-
-I do not say that I performed this journey without effort or
-intelligence. The little knowledge I ever had was taxed in view of the
-grandeurs and the mysteries around me. Shall I be believed if I say that
-I recalled all the astronomy and geography that my life as a teacher had
-left still somewhat freshly imprinted on the memory? that the facts of
-physics recurred to me, even in that inroad of feeling? and that I
-guided myself to the Massachusetts town as I would have found it upon a
-globe at school? Already I learned that no acquisition of one life is
-lost in the next. Already I thanked God for everything I knew, only
-wishing, with the passion of ignorance newly revealed to itself by the
-dawn of wisdom, that my poor human acquirements had ever truly deserved
-the high name of study, or stored my thought with its eternal results.
-
-
-
-
-VI.
-
-
-As I approached the scene of my former life, I met many people. I had
-struck a realm of spirits who at first perplexed me. They did not look
-happy, and seemed possessed by great unrest. I observed that, though
-they fluttered and moved impatiently, none rose far above the surface of
-the earth. Most of them were employed in one way or another upon it.
-Some bought and sold; some eat and drank; others occupied themselves in
-coarse pleasures, from which one could but turn away the eyes. There
-were those who were busied in more refined ways:--students with eyes
-fastened to dusty volumes; virtuosos who hung about a picture, a statue,
-a tapestry, that had enslaved them; one musical creature I saw, who
-ought to have been of exquisite organization, judging from his hands--he
-played perpetually upon an instrument that he could not tune; women, I
-saw too, who robed and disrobed without a glint of pleasure in their
-faded faces.
-
-There were ruder souls than any of these--but one sought for them in the
-dens of the earth; their dead hands still were red with stains of blood,
-and in their dead hearts reigned the remnants of hideous passions.
-
-Of all these appearances, which I still found it natural to call
-phenomena as I should once have done, it will be remembered that I
-received the temporary and imperfect impression of a person passing
-swiftly through a crowd, so that I do not wish my account to be accepted
-for anything more trustworthy than it is.
-
-While I was wondering greatly what it meant, some one joined and spoke
-to me familiarly, and, turning, I saw it to be that old neighbor, Mrs.
-Mersey, to whom I have alluded, who, like myself, seemed to be bent upon
-an errand, and to be but a visitor upon the earth. She was a most lovely
-spirit, as she had always been, and I grasped her hand cordially while
-we swept on rapidly together to our journey’s end.
-
-“Do tell me,” I whispered, as soon as I could draw her near enough, “who
-all these people are, and what it means. I fear to guess. And yet indeed
-they seem like the dead who cannot get away.”
-
-“Alas,” she sighed, “you have said it. They loved nothing, they lived
-for nothing, they believed in nothing, they cultivated themselves for
-nothing but the earth. They simply lack the spiritual momentum to get
-away from it. It is as much the working of a natural law as the progress
-of a fever. Many of my duties have been among such as these. I know them
-well. They need time and tact in treatment, and oh, the greatest
-patience! At first it discouraged me, but I am learning the enthusiasm
-of my work.”
-
-“These, then,” I said, “were those I saw in that first hour, when my
-father led me out of the house, and through the street. I saw you among
-them, Mrs. Mersey, but I knew even then that you were not of them. But
-surely they do not stay forever prisoners of the earth? Surely such a
-blot on the face of spiritual life cannot but fade away? I am a
-new-comer. I am still quite ignorant, you see. But I do not understand,
-any more than I did before, how that could be.”
-
-“They have their choice,” she answered vaguely. But when I saw the high
-solemnity of her aspect, I feared to press my questions. I could not,
-however, or I did not forbear saying:--
-
-“At least _you_ must have already persuaded many to sever themselves
-from such a condition as this?”
-
-“Already some, I hope,” she replied evasively, as she moved away. She
-always had remarkably fine manners, of which death had by no means
-deprived her. I admired her graciousness and dignity as she passed from
-my side to that of one we met, who, in a dejected voice, called her by
-her name, and intimated that he wished to speak with her. He was a pale
-and restless youth, and I thought, but was not sure, for we separated so
-quickly, that it was the little fellow I spoke of, Bobby Bend. I looked
-back, after I had advanced some distance on my way, and saw the two
-together, conversing earnestly. While I was still watching them, it
-seemed to me, though I cannot be positive upon this point, that they had
-changed their course, and were quietly ascending, she leading, he
-following, above the dismal sphere in which she found the lad, and that
-his heavy, awkward, downward motions became freer, struggling upward, as
-I gazed.
-
-I had now come to the location of my old home, and, as I passed through
-the familiar village streets, I saw that night was coming on. I met many
-whom I knew, both of those called dead and living. The former recognized
-me, but the latter saw me not. No one detained me, however, for I felt
-in haste which I could not conceal.
-
-With high-beating heart, I approached the dear old house. No one was
-astir. As I turned the handle of the door, a soft, sickening touch
-crawled around my wrist; recoiling, I found that I was entwisted in a
-piece of crape that the wind had blown against me.
-
-I went in softly; but I might have spared myself the pains. No one heard
-me, though the heavy door creaked, I thought, as emphatically as it
-always had--loudest when we were out latest, and longest when we shut it
-quickest. I went into the parlor and stood, for a moment, uncertain what
-to do.
-
-Alice was there, and my married sister Jane, with her husband and little
-boy. They sat about the fire, conversing sadly. Alice’s pretty eyes were
-disfigured with crying. They spoke constantly of me. Alice was relating
-to Jane and her family the particulars of my illness. I was touched to
-hear her call me “patient and sweet;”--none the less because she had
-often told me I was the most impatient member of the family.
-
-No one had observed my entrance. Of course I was prepared for this, but
-I cannot tell why I should have felt it, as I certainly did. A low
-bamboo chair, cushioned with green _crétonne_, stood by the table. I had
-a fancy for this chair, and, pleased that they had left it unoccupied,
-advanced and took it, in the old way. It was with something almost like
-a shock, that I found myself unnoticed in the very centre of their
-group.
-
-While I sat there, Jane moved to fix the fire, and, in returning, made
-as if she would take the bamboo chair.
-
-“Oh, don’t!” said Alice, sobbing freshly. Jane’s own tears sprang, and
-she turned away.
-
-“It seems to me,” said my brother-in-law, looking about with the patient
-grimace of a business man compelled to waste time at a funeral, “that
-there has a cold draught come into this room from somewhere. Nobody has
-left the front door open, I hope? I’ll go and see.”
-
-He went, glad of the excuse to stir about, poor fellow, and I presume he
-took a comfortable smoke outside.
-
-The little boy started after his father, but was bidden back, and
-crawled up into the chair where I was sitting. I took the child upon my
-lap, and let him stay. No one removed him, he grew so quiet, and he was
-soon asleep in my arm. This pleased me; but I could not be contented
-long, so I kissed the boy and put him down. He cried bitterly, and ran
-to his mother for comfort.
-
-While they were occupied with him, I stole away. I thought I knew where
-Mother would be, and was ashamed of myself at the reluctance I certainly
-had to enter my own room, under these exciting circumstances.
-
-Conquering this timidity, as unwomanly and unworthy, I went up and
-opened the familiar door. I had begun to learn that neither sound nor
-sight followed my motions now, so that I was not surprised at attracting
-no attention from the lonely occupant of the room. I closed the
-door--from long habit I still made an effort to turn the latch
-softly--and resolutely examined what I saw.
-
-My mother was there, as I had expected. The room was cold--there was no
-fire,--and she had on her heavy blanket shawl. The gas was lighted, and
-one of my red candles, but both burned dimly. The poor woman’s magenta
-geranium had frozen. My mother sat in the red easy-chair, which, being a
-huge, old-fashioned thing, surrounded and shielded her from the
-draught. My clothes, and medicines, and all the little signs of sickness
-had been removed. The room was swept, and orderly. Above the bed, the
-pictures and the carved cross looked down.
-
-Below them, calm as sleep, and cold as frost, and terrible as silence,
-lay that which had been I.
-
-_She_ did not shrink. She was sitting close beside it. She gazed at it
-with the tenderness which death itself could not affright. Mother was
-not crying. She did not look as if she had shed tears for a long time.
-But her wanness and the drawn lines about her mouth were hard to see.
-Her aged hands trembled as she cut the locks of hair from the neck of
-the dead. She was growing to be an old woman. And I--her first-born--I
-had been her staff of life, and on me she had thought to lean in her
-widowed age. She seemed to me to have grown feeble fast in the time
-since I had left her.
-
-All my soul rushed to my lips, and I cried out--it seemed that either
-the dead or the living must hear that cry--
-
-“Mother! Oh, my dear _mother_!”
-
-But deaf as life, she sat before me. She had just cut off the lock of
-hair she wanted; as I spoke, the curling ends of it twined around her
-fingers; I tried to snatch it away, thinking thus to arrest her
-attention.
-
-The lock of hair trembled, turned, and clung the closer to the living
-hand. She pressed it to her lips with the passion of desolation.
-
-“But, Mother,” I cried once more, “I am _here_.” I flung my arms about
-her and kissed her again and again. I called and entreated her by every
-dear name that household love had taught us. I besought her to turn, to
-see, to hear, to believe, to be comforted. I told her how blest was I,
-how bountiful was death.
-
-“I am alive,” I said. “I am alive! I see you, I touch you, hear you,
-love you, hold you!” I tried argument and severity; I tried tenderness
-and ridicule.
-
-She turned at this: it seemed to me that she regarded me. She stretched
-her arms out; her aged hands groped to and fro as if she felt for
-something and found it not; she shook her head, her dim eyes gazed
-blankly into mine. She sighed patiently, and rose as if to leave the
-room, but hesitated,--covered the face of the dead body--caressed it
-once or twice as if it had been a living infant--and then, taking up her
-Bible, which had been upon the chair beside her, dropped upon her knees,
-and holding the book against her sunken cheek, abandoned herself to
-silent prayer.
-
-This was more than I could bear just then, and, thinking to collect
-myself by a few moments’ solitude, I left her. But as I stood in the
-dark hall, uncertain and unquiet, I noticed a long, narrow line of light
-at my feet, and, following it confusedly, found that it came from the
-crack in the closed, but unlatched door of another well-remembered room.
-I pushed the door open hurriedly and closed it behind me.
-
-My brother sat in this room alone. His fire was blazing cheerfully and,
-flashing, revealed the deer’s-head from the Adirondacks, the stuffed
-rose-curlew from Florida, the gull’s wing from Cape Ann, the gun and
-rifle and bamboo fish-pole, the class photographs over the mantel, the
-feminine features on porcelain in velvet frames, all the little
-trappings with which I was familiar. Tom had been trying to study, but
-his Homer lay pushed away, with crumpled leaves, upon the table. Buried
-in his lexicon--one strong elbow intervening--down, like a hero thrown,
-the boy’s face had gone.
-
-“Tom,” I said quietly--I always spoke quietly to Tom, who had a
-constitutional fear of what he called “emotions”--“Tom, you’d better be
-studying your Greek. I’d much rather see you. Come, I’ll help you.”
-
-He did not move, poor fellow, and as I came nearer, I saw, to my
-heart-break, that our Tom was crying. Sobs shook his huge frame, and
-down between the iron fingers, toughened by base-ball matches, tears had
-streamed upon the pages of the Odyssey.
-
-“Tom, Tom, old fellow, _don’t_!” I cried, and, hungry as love, I took
-the boy. I got upon the arm of the smoking chair, as I used to, and so
-had my hands about his neck, and my cheek upon his curly hair, and would
-have soothed him. Indeed, he did grow calm, and calmer, as if he yielded
-to my touch; and presently he lifted his wet face, and looked about the
-room, half ashamed, half defiant, as if to ask who saw that.
-
-“Come, Tom,” I tried again. “It really isn’t so bad as you think. And
-there is Mother catching cold in that room. Go and get her away from the
-body. It is no place for her. She’ll get sick. Nobody can manage her as
-well as you.”
-
-As if he heard me, he arose. As if he knew me, he looked for the
-flashing of an instant into my eyes.
-
-“I don’t see how a girl of her sense can be _dead_,” said the boy aloud.
-He stretched his arms once above his head, and out into the bright,
-empty room, and I heard him groan in a way that wrung my heart. I went
-impulsively to him, and as his arms closed, they closed about me
-strongly. He stood for a moment quite still. I could feel the nervous
-strain subsiding all over his big soul and body.
-
-“Hush,” I whispered. “I’m no more dead than you are.”
-
-If he heard, what he felt, God knows. I speak of a mystery. No optical
-illusion, no tactual hallucination could hold the boy who took all the
-medals at the gymnasium. The hearty, healthy fellow could receive no
-abnormal sign from the love and longing of the dead. Only spirit unto
-spirit could attempt that strange out-reaching. Spirit unto spirit, was
-it done? Still, I relate a mystery, and what shall I say? His professor
-in the class-room of metaphysics would teach him next week that grief
-owns the law of the rhythm of motion; and that at the oscillation of the
-pendulum the excitement of anguish shall subside into apathy which
-mourners alike treat as a disloyalty to the dead, and court as a nervous
-relief to the living.
-
-Be this as it may, the boy grew suddenly calm, and even cheerful, and
-followed me at once. I led him directly to his mother, and left them for
-a time alone together.
-
-After this my own calm, because my own confidence, increased. My dreary
-sense of helplessness before the suffering of those I loved, gave place
-to the consciousness of power to reach them. I detected this power in
-myself in an undeveloped form, and realized that it might require
-exercise and culture, like all other powers, if I would make valuable
-use of it. I could already regard the cultivation of the faculty which
-would enable love to defy death, and spirit to conquer matter, as likely
-to be one of the occupations of a full life.
-
-I went out into the fresh air for a time to think these thoughts through
-by myself, undisturbed by the sight of grief that I could not remove;
-and strolled up and down the village streets in the frosty night.
-
-When I returned to the house they had all separated for the night, sadly
-seeking sleep in view of the events of the morrow, when, as I had
-already inferred, the funeral would take place.
-
-I spent the night among them, chiefly with my mother and Tom, passing
-unnoticed from room to room, and comforting them in such ways as I found
-possible. The boy had locked his door, but after a few trials I found
-myself able to pass the medium of this resisting matter, and to enter
-and depart according to my will. Tom finished his lesson in the Odyssey,
-and I sat by and helped him when I could. This I found possible in
-simple ways, which I may explain farther at another time. We had often
-studied together, and his mind the more readily, therefore, responded to
-the influence of my own. He was soon well asleep, and I was free to give
-all my attention to my poor mother. Of those long and solemn hours, what
-shall I say? I thought she would never, never rest. I held her in these
-arms the live-long night. With these hands I caressed and calmed her.
-With these lips I kissed her. With this breath I warmed her cold brow
-and fingers. With all my soul and body I willed that I would comfort
-her, and I believe, thank God, I did. At dawn she slept peacefully; she
-slept late, and rose refreshed. I remained closely by her throughout the
-day.
-
-They did their best, let me say, to provide me with a Christian funeral,
-partly in accordance with some wishes I had expressed in writing,
-partly from the impulse of their own good sense. Not a curtain was drawn
-to darken the house of death. The blessed winter sunshine flowed in like
-the current of a broad stream, through low, wide windows. No ghastly
-“funeral flowers” filled the room; there was only a cluster of red pinks
-upon the coffin, and the air was sweet but not heavy with the carnation
-perfume that they knew I loved. My dead body and face they had covered
-with a deep red pall, just shaded off the black, as dark as darkness
-could be, and yet be redness. Not a bell was tolled. Not a tear--at
-least, I mean, by those nearest me--not a tear was shed. As the body was
-carried from the house, the voices of unseen singers lifted the German
-funeral chant:--
-
- “Go forth! go on, with solemn song,
- Short is the way; the rest is long!”
-
-At the grave they sang:--
-
- “Softly now the light of day,”
-
-since my mother had asked for one of the old hymns; and besides the
-usual Scriptural Burial Service, a friend, who was dear to me, read Mrs.
-Browning’s “Sleep.”
-
-It was all as I would have had it, and I looked on peacefully. If I
-could have spoken I would have said: “You have buried me cheerfully, as
-Christians ought, as a Christian ought to be.”
-
-I was greatly touched, I must admit, at the grief of some of the poor,
-plain people who followed my body on its final journey to the village
-church-yard. The woman who sent the magenta geranium refused to be
-comforted, and there were one or two young girls whom I had been so
-fortunate as to assist in difficulties, who, I think, did truly mourn.
-Some of my boys from the Grand Army were there, too,--some, I mean, whom
-it had been my privilege to care for in the hospitals in the old war
-days. They came in uniform, and held their caps before their eyes. It
-did please me to see them there.
-
-When the brief service at the grave was over, I would have gone home
-with my mother, feeling that she needed me more than ever; but as I
-turned to do so, I was approached by a spirit whose presence I had not
-observed. It proved to be my father. He detained me, explaining that I
-should remain where I was, feeling no fear, but making no protest, till
-the Will governing my next movement might be made known to me. So I bade
-my mother good-by, and Tom, as well as I could in the surprise and
-confusion, and watched them all as they went away. She, as she walked,
-seemed to those about her to be leaning only upon her son. But I beheld
-my father tenderly hastening close beside her, while he supported her
-with the arm which had never failed her yet, in all their loving lives.
-Therefore I could let her go, without distress.
-
-The funeral procession departed slowly; the grave was filled; one of the
-mill-girls came back and threw in some arbor vitæ and a flower or
-two,--the sexton hurried her, and both went away. It grew dusk, dark. I
-and my body were left alone together.
-
-Of that solemn watch, it is not for me to chatter to any other soul.
-Memories overswept me, which only we two could share. Hopes possessed me
-which it were not possible to explain to another organization. Regret,
-resolve, awe, and joy, every high human emotion excepting fear, battled
-about us. While I knelt there in the windless night, I heard chanting
-from a long distance, but yet distinct to the dead, that is to the
-living ear. As I listened, the sound deepened, approaching, and a group
-of singing spirits swept by in the starlit air, poised like birds, or
-thoughts, above me:
-
-“_It is sown a natural--it is raised a spiritual body._”
-
-“_Death! where is thy sting?--Grave!--thy victory?_”
-
-“_Believing in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live._”
-
-I tried my voice, and joined, for I could no longer help it, in the
-thrilling chorus. It was the first time since I died, that I had felt
-myself invited or inclined to share the occupations of others, in the
-life I had entered. Kneeling there, in the happy night, by my own
-grave, I lifted all my soul and sense into the immortal words, now for
-the first time comprehensible to me:
-
-“_I believe, I believe in the resurrection of the dead._”
-
-It was not long thereafter that I received the summons to return. I
-should have been glad to go home once more, but was able to check my own
-preference without wilful protest, or an aching heart. The conviction
-that all was well with my darlings and myself, for life and for death,
-had now become an intense yet simple thing, like consciousness itself.
-
-I went as, and where I was bidden, joyfully.
-
-
-
-
-VII.
-
-
-Upon reëntering the wonderful place which I had begun to call Heaven,
-and to which I still give that name, though not, I must say, with
-perfect assurance that the word is properly applied to that phase of the
-life of which I am the yet most ignorant recorder, I found myself more
-weary than I had been at any time since my change came. I was looking
-about, uncertain where to go, feeling, for the first time, rather
-homeless in this new country, when I was approached by a stranger, who
-inquired of me what I sought:
-
-“Rest,” I said promptly.
-
-“A familiar quest,” observed the stranger, smiling.
-
-“You are right, sir. It is a thing I have been seeking for forty years.”
-
-“And never found?”
-
-“Never found.”
-
-“I will assist you,” he said gently, “that is, if you wish it. What will
-you have first?”
-
-“Sleep, I think, first, then food. I have been through exciting scenes.
-I have a touch--a faint one--of what below we called exhaustion. Yet now
-I am conscious in advance of the rest which is sure to come. Already I
-feel it, like the ebbing of the wave that goes to form the flow of the
-next. How blessed to know that one _can’t_ be ill!”
-
-“How do you know that?” asked my companion.
-
-“On the whole, I don’t know that I do,” I answered, with embarrassment,
-“I suppose it is a remnant of one’s old religious teaching: ‘The
-inhabitant shall not say I am sick.’ Surely there were such words.”
-
-“And you trusted them?” asked the stranger.
-
-“The Bible was a hard book to accept,” I said quickly, “I would not have
-you overestimate my faith. I tried to believe that it was God’s message.
-I think I _did_ believe it. But the reason was clear to me. I could not
-get past that if I wished to.”
-
-“What, then, was the reason,” inquired my friend, solemnly, “why you
-trusted the message called the Word of God, as received by the believing
-among His children on earth?”
-
-“Surely,” I urged, “there is but one reason. I refer to the history of
-our Lord. I do not know whether all in this place are Christians; but I
-was one.--Sir! I anticipate your question. I was a most imperfect,
-useless one--to my sorrow and my shame I say it--but, so far as I went,
-I was an honest one.”
-
-“Did you love Him?--Him whom you called Lord?” asked the stranger, with
-an air of reserve. I replied that I thought I could truly say that He
-was dear to me.
-
-I began to be deeply moved by this conversation. I stole a look at the
-stranger, whom I had at first scarcely noticed, except as one among many
-passing souls. He was a man of surpassing majesty of mien, and for
-loveliness of feature I had seen no mortal to vie with him. “This,” I
-thought, “must be one of the beings we called angels.” Astonishing
-brightness rayed from him at every motion, and his noble face was like
-the sun itself. He moved beside me like any other spirit, and
-condescended to me so familiarly, yet with so unapproachable a dignity,
-that my heart went out to him as breath upon the air. It did not occur
-to me to ask him who he was, or whither he led me. It was enough that he
-led, and I followed without question or reply. We walked and talked for
-a long time together.
-
-He renewed the conversation by asking me whether I had really staked my
-immortal existence upon the promise of that obscure, uneducated Jew,
-twenty centuries in his grave,--that plain man who lived a fanatic’s
-life, and died a felon’s death, and whose teachings had given rise to
-such bigotry and error upon the earth. I answered that I had never been
-what is commonly called a devout person, not having a spiritual
-temperament, but that I had not held our Master responsible for the
-mistakes of either his friends or his foes, and that the greatest regret
-I had brought with me into Heaven was that I had been so unworthy to
-bear His blessed name. He next inquired of me, if I truly believed that
-I owed my entrance upon my present life to the interposition of Him of
-whom we spoke.
-
-“Sir,” I said, “you touch upon sacred nerves. I should find it hard to
-tell you how utterly I believe that immortality is the gift of Jesus
-Christ to the human soul.”
-
-“I believed this on earth,” I added, “I believe it in Heaven. I do not
-_know_ it yet, however. I am a new-comer; I am still very ignorant. No
-one has instructed me. I hope to learn ‘syllable by syllable.’ I am
-impatient to be taught; yet I am patient to be ignorant till I am found
-worthy to learn. It may be, that you, sir, who evidently are of a higher
-order of life than ours, are sent to enlighten me?”
-
-My companion smiled, neither dissenting from, nor assenting to my
-question, and only asked me in reply, if I had yet spoken with the Lord.
-I said that I had not even seen Him; nay, that I had not even asked to
-see Him. My friend inquired why this was, and I told him frankly that it
-was partly because I was so occupied at first--nay, most of the time
-until I was called below.
-
-“I had not much room to think. I was taken from event to event, like a
-traveler. This matter that you speak of seemed out of place in every way
-at that time.”
-
-Then I went on to say that my remissness was owing partly to a little
-real self-distrust, because I feared I was not the kind of believer to
-whom He would feel quickly drawn; that I felt afraid to propose such a
-preposterous thing as being brought into His presence; that I supposed,
-when He saw fit to reveal Himself to me, I should be summoned in some
-orderly way, suitable to this celestial community; that, in fact, though
-I had cherished this most sweet and solemn desire, I had not mentioned
-it before, not even to my own father who conducted me to this place.
-
-“I have not spoken of it,” I said, “to any body but to you.”
-
-The stranger’s face wore a remarkable expression when I said this, as if
-I had deeply gratified him; and there glittered from his entire form
-and features such brightness as well-nigh dazzled me. It was as if,
-where a lesser being would have spoken, or stirred, he shone. I felt as
-if I conversed with him by radiance, and that living light had become a
-vocabulary between us. I have elsewhere spoken of the quality of
-reflecting light as marked among the ordinary inhabitants of this new
-life; but in this case I was aware of a distinction, due, I thought, to
-the superior order of existence to which my friend belonged. He did not,
-like the others, reflect; he radiated glory. More and more, as we had
-converse together, this impressed, until it awed me. We remained
-together for a long time. People who met us, greeted the angel with
-marked reverence, and turned upon me glances of sympathetic delight; but
-no one interrupted us. We continued our walk into a more retired place,
-by the shore of a sea, and there we had deep communion.
-
-My friend had inquired if I were still faint, and if I preferred to turn
-aside for food and rest; but when he asked me the question I was amazed
-to find that I no longer had the need of either. Such delight had I in
-his presence, such invigoration in his sympathy, that glorious
-recuperation had set in upon my earth-caused weariness. Such power had
-the soul upon the celestial body! Food for the first was force to the
-other.
-
-It seemed to me that I had never known refreshment of either before; and
-that Heaven itself could contain no nutriment that would satisfy me
-after this upon which I fed in that high hour.
-
-It is not possible for me to repeat the solemn words of that interview.
-We spoke of grave and sacred themes. He gave me great counsel and fine
-sympathy. He gave me affectionate rebuke and unfathomable resolve. We
-talked of those inner experiences which, on earth, the soul protects,
-like struggling flame, between itself and the sheltering hand of God. We
-spoke much of the Master, and of my poor hope that I might be permitted
-after I had been a long time in Heaven, to become worthy to see Him,
-though at the vast distance of my unworthiness. Of that unworthiness
-too, we spoke most earnestly; while we did so, the sense of it grew
-within me like a new soul; yet so divinely did my friend extend his
-tenderness to me, that I was strengthened far more than weakened by
-these finer perceptions of my unfitness, which he himself had aroused in
-me. The counsel that he gave me, Eternity could not divert out of my
-memory, and the comfort which I had from him I treasure to this hour.
-“Here,” I thought, “here, at last, I find reproof as gentle as sympathy,
-and sympathy as invigorating as reproof. Now, for the first time in all
-my life, I find myself truly understood. What could I not become if I
-possessed the friendship of such a being! How shall I develop myself so
-as to obtain it? How can I endure to be deprived of it? Is this too,
-like friendship on earth, a snatch, a compromise, a heart-ache, a mirror
-in which one looks only long enough to know that it is dashed away? Have
-I begun that old pain again, _here_?”
-
-For I knew, as I sat in that solemn hour with my face to the sea and my
-soul with him, while sweeter than any song of all the waves of Heaven
-or earth to sea-lovers sounded his voice who did commune with
-me,--verily I knew, for then and forever, that earth had been a void to
-me because I had him not, and that Heaven could be no Heaven to me
-without him.
-
-All which I had known of human love; all that I had missed; the dreams
-from which I had been startled; the hopes that had evaded me; the
-patience which comes from knowing that one may not even try not to be
-misunderstood; the struggle to keep a solitary heart sweet; the
-anticipation of desolate age which casts its shadow backward upon the
-dial of middle life; the paralysis of feeling which creeps on with its
-disuse; the distrust of one’s own atrophied faculties of loving; the
-sluggish wonder if one is ceasing to be lovable; the growing difficulty
-of explaining oneself even when it is necessary, because no one being
-more than any other cares for the explanation; the things which a lonely
-life converts into silence that cannot be broken, swept upon me like
-rapids, as, turning to look into his dazzling face, I said:
-“This--_all_ this he understands.”
-
-But when, thus turning, I would have told him so, for there seemed to be
-no poor pride in Heaven, forbidding soul to tell the truth to
-soul,--when I turned, my friend had risen, and was departing from me, as
-swiftly and mysteriously as he came. I did not cry out to him to stay,
-for I felt ashamed; nor did I tell him how he had bereft me, for that
-seemed a childish folly. I think I only stood and looked at him.
-
-“If there is any way of being worthy of your friendship,” I said below
-my breath, “I will have it, if I toil for half Eternity to get it.”
-
-Now, though these words were scarcely articulate, I think he heard them,
-and turning, with a smile which will haunt my dreams and stir my deeds
-as long as I shall live, he laid his hand upon my head, and blessed
-me--but what he said I shall tell no man--and so departed from me, and I
-was left upon the shore alone, fallen, I think, in a kind of sleep or
-swoon.
-
-When I awoke, I was greatly calmed and strengthened, but disinclined, at
-first, to move. I had the reaction from what I knew was the intensest
-experience of my life, and it took time to adjust my feelings to my
-thoughts.
-
-A young girl came up while I sat there upon the sands, and employed
-herself in gathering certain marvelous weeds that the sea had tossed up.
-These weeds fed upon the air, as they had upon the water, remaining
-fresh upon the girl’s garments, which she decorated with them. She did
-not address me, but strolled up and down silently. Presently, feeling
-moved by the assurance of congeniality that one detects so much more
-quickly in Heaven than on earth, I said to the young girl:--
-
-“Can you tell me the name of the angel--you must have met him--who has
-but just left me, and with whom I have been conversing?”
-
-“Do you then truly not know?” she asked, shading her eyes with her hand,
-and looking off in the direction my friend had taken; then back again,
-with a fine, compassionate surprise at me.
-
-“Indeed I know not.”
-
-“That was the Master who spoke with you.”
-
-“What did you _say_?”
-
-“That was our Lord Himself.”
-
-
-
-
-VIII.
-
-
-After the experience related in the last chapter, I remained for some
-time in solitude. Speech seemed incoherence, and effort impossible. I
-needed a pause to adapt myself to my awe and my happiness; upon neither
-of which will it be necessary for me to dwell. Yet I think I may be
-understood if I say that from this hour I found that what we call Heaven
-had truly begun for me. Now indeed for the first time I may say that I
-believed without wonder in the life everlasting; since now, for the
-first time, I had a reason sufficient for the continuance of existence.
-A force like the cohesion of atoms held me to eternal hope. Brighter
-than the dawn of friendship upon a heart bereft, more solemn than the
-sunrise of love itself upon a life that had thought itself unloved,
-stole on the power of the Presence to which I had been admitted in so
-surprising, and yet, after all, how natural a way! Henceforth the
-knowledge that this experience might be renewed for me at any turn of
-thought or act, would illuminate joy itself, so that “it should have no
-need of the sun to lighten it.” I recalled these words, as one recalls a
-familiar quotation repeated for the first time on some foreign locality
-of which it is descriptive. Now I knew what he meant, who wrote: “The
-Lamb is the Light thereof.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-When I came to myself, I observed the young girl who had before
-addressed me still strolling on the shore. She beckoned, and I went to
-her, with a new meekness in my heart. What will He have me to do? If, by
-the lips of this young thing, He choose to instruct me, let me glory in
-the humility with which I will be a learner!
-
-All things seemed to be so exquisitely ordered for us in this new life,
-all flowed so naturally, like one sound-wave into another, with ease so
-apparent, yet under law so superb, that already I was certain Heaven
-contained no accidents, and no trivialities; as it did no shocks or
-revolutions.
-
-“If you like,” said the young girl, “we will cross the sea.”
-
-“But how?” I asked, for I saw no boat.
-
-“Can you not, then, walk upon the water yet?” she answered. “Many of us
-do, as He did once below. But we no longer call such things miracles.
-They are natural powers. Yet it is an art to use them. One has to learn
-it, as we did swimming, or such things, in the old times.”
-
-“I have only been here a short time,” I said, half amused at the little
-celestial “airs” my young friend wore so sweetly. “I know but little
-yet. Can you teach me how to walk on water?”
-
-“It would take so much time,” said the young girl, “that I think we
-should not wait for that. We go on to the next duty, now. You had better
-learn, I think, from somebody wiser than I. I will take you over another
-way.”
-
-A great and beautiful shell, not unlike a nautilus, was floating near
-us, on the incoming tide, and my companion motioned to me to step into
-this. I obeyed her, laughing, but without any hesitation. “Neither shall
-there be any more death,” I thought as I glanced over the rose-tinted
-edges of the frail thing into the water, deeper than any I had ever
-seen, but unclouded, so that I looked to the bottom of the sea. The girl
-herself stepped out upon the waves with a practiced air, and lightly
-drawing the great shell with one hand, bore me after her, as one bears a
-sledge upon ice. As we came into mid-water we began to meet others, some
-walking, as she did, some rowing or drifting like myself. Upon the
-opposite shore uprose the outlines of a more thickly settled community
-than any I had yet seen.
-
-Watching this with interest that deepened as we approached the shore, I
-selfishly or uncourteously forgot to converse with my companion, who did
-not disturb my silence until we landed. As she gave me her hand, she
-said in a quick, direct tone:
-
-“Well, Miss Mary, I see that you do not know me, after all.”
-
-I felt, as I had already done once or twice before, a certain social
-embarrassment (which in itself instructed me, as perpetuating one of the
-minor emotions of life below that I had hardly expected to renew) before
-my lovely guide, as I shook my head, struggling with the phantasmal
-memories evoked by her words. No, I did not know her.
-
-“I am Marie Sauvée. I _hope_ you remember.”
-
-She said these words in French. The change of language served instantly
-to recall the long train of impressions stored away, who knew how or
-where, about the name and memory of this girl.
-
-“Marie Sauvée! _You_--HERE!” I exclaimed in her own tongue.
-
-At the name, now, the whole story, like the bright side of a
-dark-lantern, flashed. It was a tale of sorrow and shame, as sad,
-perhaps, as any that it had been my lot to meet. So far as I had ever
-known, the little French girl, thrown in my way while I was serving in
-barracks at Washington, had baffled every effort I had made to win her
-affection or her confidence, and had gone out of my life as the
-thistle-down flies on the wind. She had cost me many of those precious
-drops of the soul’s blood which all such endeavor drains; and in the
-laboratory of memory I had labelled them, “Worse than Wasted,” and sadly
-wondered if I should do the same again for such another need, at just
-such hopeless expenditure, and had reminded myself that it was not good
-spiritual economy, and said that I would never repeat the experience,
-and known all the while that I should.
-
-Now here, a spirit saved, shining as the air of Heaven, “without spot or
-any such thing”--here, wiser in heavenly lore than I, longer with Him
-than I, nearer to Him than I, dearer to Him, perhaps, than I--_here_ was
-Marie Sauvée.
-
-“I do not know how to apologize,” I said, struggling with my emotion,
-“for the way in which I spoke to you just now. Why should you not be
-here? Why, indeed? Why am I here? Why”--
-
-“Dear Miss Mary,” cried the girl, interrupting me passionately, “but for
-you it might never have been as it is. Or never for ages--I cannot say.
-I might have been a ghost, bound yet to the hated ghost of the old life.
-It was your doing, at the first--down there--all those years ago. Miss
-Mary, you were the first person I ever loved. You didn’t know it. I had
-no idea of telling you. But I did, I loved you. After you went away, I
-loved you; ever since then, I loved you. I said, I will be fit to love
-her before I die. And then I said, I will go where she is going, for I
-shall never get at her anywhere else. And when I entered this place--for
-I had no friend or relative here that I knew, to meet me--I was more
-frightened than it is possible for any one like you to understand, and
-wondered what place there could be for one like me in all this country,
-and how I could ever get accustomed to their ways, and whether I should
-shock and grieve them--you _can’t_ understand _that_; I dreaded it so, I
-was afraid I should swear after I got to Heaven; I was afraid I might
-say some evil word, and shame them all, and shame myself more than I
-could ever get over. I knew I wasn’t educated for any such society. I
-knew there wasn’t anything in me that would be at home here, but just”--
-
-“But just what, Marie?” I asked, with a humility deeper than I could
-have expressed.
-
-“But just my love for you, Miss Mary. That was all. I had nothing to
-come to Heaven on, but loving you and meaning to be a better girl
-because I loved you. That was truly all.”
-
-“That is impossible!” I said quickly. “Your love for me never brought
-you here of itself alone. You are mistaken about this. It is neither
-Christianity nor philosophy.”
-
-“There is no mistake,” persisted the girl, with gentle obstinacy,
-smiling delightedly at my dogmatism, “I came here because I loved you.
-Do you not see? In loving you, I loved--for the first time in my life I
-loved--goodness. I really did. And when I got to this place, I found out
-that goodness was the same as God. And I had been getting the love of
-God into my heart, all that time, in that strange way, and never knew
-how it was with me, until--Oh, Miss Mary, who do you think it was, WHO,
-that met me within an hour after I died?”
-
-“It was our Master,” she added in an awe-struck, yet rapturous whisper,
-that thrilled me through. “It was He Himself. He was the first, for I
-had nobody, as I told you, belonging to me in this holy place, to care
-for a wretch like me.--_He_ was the first to meet _me_! And it was He
-who taught me everything I had to learn. It was He who made me feel
-acquainted and at home. It was He who took me on from love of you, to
-love of Him, as you put one foot after another in learning to walk after
-you have had a terrible sickness. And it was _He_ who never reminded
-me--never once reminded me--of the sinful creature I had been. Never, by
-one word or look, from that hour to this day, has He let me feel ashamed
-in Heaven. That is what _He_ is!” cried the girl, turning upon me, in a
-little sudden, sharp way she used to have; her face and form were so
-transfigured before me, as she spoke, that it seemed as if she quivered
-with excess of light, and were about to break away and diffuse herself
-upon the radiant air, like song, or happy speech, or melting color.
-
-“Die for Him!” she said after a passionate silence. “If I could die
-everlastingly and everlastingly and everlastingly, to give Him any
-pleasure, or to save Him any pain-- But then, that’s nothing,” she added,
-“I love Him. That is all that means.--And I’ve only got to live
-everlastingly instead. That is the way He has treated me--_me_!”
-
-
-
-
-IX.
-
-
-The shore upon which we had landed was thickly populated, as I have
-said. Through a sweep of surpassingly beautiful suburbs, we approached
-the streets of a town. It is hard to say why I should have been
-surprised at finding in this place the signs of human traffic,
-philanthropy, art, and study--what otherwise I expected, who can say? My
-impressions, as Marie Sauvée led me through the city, had the confusion
-of sudden pleasure. The width and shining cleanliness of the streets,
-the beauty and glittering material of the houses, the frequent presence
-of libraries, museums, public gardens, signs of attention to the wants
-of animals, and places of shelter for travelers such as I had never seen
-in the most advanced and benevolent of cities below,--these were the
-points that struck me most forcibly.
-
-The next thing, which in a different mood might have been the first that
-impressed me was the remarkable expression of the faces that I met or
-passed. No thoughtful person can have failed to observe, in any throng,
-the preponderant look of unrest and dissatisfaction in the human eye.
-Nothing, to a fine vision, so emphasizes the isolation of being, as the
-faces of people in a crowd. In this new community to which I had been
-brought, that old effect was replaced by a delightful change. I
-perceived, indeed, great intentness of purpose here, as in all
-thickly-settled regions; the countenances that passed me indicated close
-conservation of social force and economy of intellectual energy; these
-were people trained by attrition with many influences, and balanced with
-the conflict of various interests. But these were men and women, busy
-without hurry, efficacious without waste; they had ambition without
-unscrupulousness, power without tyranny, success without vanity, care
-without anxiety, effort without exhaustion,--hope, fear, toil,
-uncertainty it seemed, elation it was sure--but a repose that it was
-impossible to call by any other name than divine, controlled their
-movements, which were like the pendulum of a golden clock whose works
-are out of sight. I watched these people with delight. Great numbers of
-them seemed to be students, thronging what we should call below
-colleges, seminaries, or schools of art, or music, or science. The
-proportion of persons pursuing some form of intellectual acquisition
-struck me as large. My little guide, to whom I mentioned this, assented
-to the fact, pointing out to me a certain institution we had passed, at
-which she herself was, she said, something like a primary scholar, and
-from which she had been given a holiday to meet me as she did, and
-conduct me through the journey that had been appointed for me on that
-day. I inquired of her what her studies might be like; but she told me
-that she was hardly wise enough as yet to explain to me what I could
-learn for myself when I had been longer in this place, and when my
-leisure came for investigating its attractions at my own will.
-
-“I am uncommonly ignorant, you know,” said Marie Sauvée humbly, “I have
-everything to learn. There is book knowledge and thought knowledge and
-soul knowledge, and I have not any of these. I was as much of what you
-used to call a heathen, as any Fiji-Islander you gave your missionaries
-to. I have so much to learn, that I am not sent yet upon other business
-such as I should like.”
-
-Upon my asking Marie Sauvée what business this might be, she hesitated.
-“I have become ambitious in Heaven,” she answered slowly. “I shall never
-be content till I am fit to be sent to the worst woman that can be
-found--no matter which side of death--I don’t care in what world--I want
-to be sent to one that nobody else will touch; I think I might know how
-to save her. It is a tremendous ambition!” she repeated. “Preposterous
-for the greatest angel there is here! And yet I--_I_ mean to do it.”
-
-I was led on in this way by Marie Sauvée, through and out of the city
-into the western suburbs; we had approached from the east, and had
-walked a long distance. There did not occur to me, I think, till we had
-made the circuit of the beautiful town, one thing, which, when I did
-observe it, struck me as, on the whole, the most impressive that I had
-noticed. “I have not seen,” I said, stopping suddenly, “I have not seen
-a poor person in all this city.”
-
-“Nor an aged one, have you?” asked Marie Sauvée, smiling.
-
-“Now that I think of it,--no. Nor a sick one. Not a beggar. Not a
-cripple. Not a mourner. Not--and yet what have we here? This building,
-by which you are leading me, bears a device above the door, the last I
-should ever have expected to find _here_.”
-
-It was an imposing building, of a certain translucent material that had
-the massiveness of marble, with the delicacy of thin agate illuminated
-from within. The rear of this building gave upon the open country, with
-a background of hills, and the vision of the sea which I had crossed.
-People strolled about the grounds, which had more than the magnificence
-of Oriental gardens. Music came from the building, and the saunterers,
-whom I saw, seemed nevertheless not to be idlers, but persons busily
-employed in various ways--I should have said, under the close direction
-of others who guided them. The inscription above the door of this
-building was a word, in a tongue unknown to me, meaning “Hospital,” as I
-was told.
-
-“They are the sick at heart,” said Marie Sauvée, in answer to my look of
-perplexity, “who are healed there. And they are the sick of soul; those
-who were most unready for the new life; they whose spiritual being was
-diseased through inaction, _they_ are the invalids of Heaven. There they
-are put under treatment, and slowly cured. With some, it takes long. I
-was there myself when I first came, for a little; it will be a most
-interesting place for you to visit, by-and-by.”
-
-I inquired who were the physicians of this celestial sanitarium.
-
-“They who unite the natural love of healing to the highest spiritual
-development.”
-
-“By no means, then, necessarily they who were skilled in the treatment
-of diseases on earth?” I asked, laughing.
-
-“Such are oftener among the patients,” said Marie Sauvée sadly. To me,
-so lately from the earth, and our low earthly way of finding amusement
-in facts of this nature, this girl’s gravity was a rebuke. I thanked her
-for it, and we passed by the hospital--which I secretly made up my mind
-to investigate at another time--and so out into the wider country, more
-sparsely settled, but it seemed to me more beautiful than that we had
-left behind.
-
-“There,” I said, at length, “is to my taste the loveliest spot we have
-seen yet. That is the most homelike of all these homes.”
-
-We stopped before a small and quiet house built of curiously inlaid
-woods, that reminded me of Sorrento work as a great achievement may
-remind one of a first and faint suggestion. So exquisite was the carving
-and coloring, that on a larger scale the effect might have interfered
-with the solidity of the building, but so modest were the proportions
-of this charming house, that its dignity was only enhanced by its
-delicacy. It was shielded by trees, some familiar to me, others strange.
-There were flowers--not too many; birds; and I noticed a fine dog
-sunning himself upon the steps. The sweep of landscape from all the
-windows of this house must have been grand. The wind drove up from the
-sea. The light, which had a peculiar depth and color, reminding me of
-that which on earth flows from under the edge of a breaking storm-cloud
-at the hour preceding sunset, formed an aureola about the house. When my
-companion suggested my examining this place, since it so attracted me, I
-hesitated, but yielding to her wiser judgment, strolled across the
-little lawn, and stood, uncertain, at the threshold. The dog arose as I
-came up, and met me cordially, but no person seemed to be in sight.
-
-“Enter,” said Marie Sauvée in a tone of decision. “You are expected. Go
-where you will.”
-
-I turned to remonstrate with her, but the girl had disappeared. Finding
-myself thus thrown on my own resources, and having learned already the
-value of obedience to mysterious influences in this new life, I gathered
-courage, and went into the house. The dog followed me affectionately,
-rather than suspiciously.
-
-For a few moments I stood in the hall or ante-room, alone and perplexed.
-Doors opened at right and left, and vistas of exquisitely-ordered rooms
-stretched out. I saw much of the familiar furniture of a modest home,
-and much that was unfamiliar mingled therewith. I desired to ask the
-names or purposes of certain useful articles, and the characters and
-creators of certain works of art. I was bewildered and delighted. I had
-something of the feeling of a rustic visitor taken for the first time to
-a palace or imposing town-house.
-
-Was Heaven an aggregate of homes like this? Did everlasting life move on
-in the same dear ordered channel--the dearest that human experiment had
-ever found--the channel of family love? Had one, after death, the old
-blessedness without the old burden? The old sweetness without the old
-mistake? The familiar rest, and never the familiar fret? Was there
-always in the eternal world “somebody to come home to”? And was there
-always the knowledge that it could not be the wrong person? Was all
-_that_ eliminated from celestial domestic life? Did Heaven solve the
-problem on which earth had done no more than speculate?
-
-While I stood, gone well astray on thoughts like these, feeling still
-too great a delicacy about my uninvited presence in this house, I heard
-the steps of the host, or so I took them to be; they had the indefinable
-ring of the master’s foot. I remained where I was, not without
-embarrassment, ready to apologize for my intrusion as soon as he should
-come within sight. He crossed the long room at the left, leisurely; I
-counted his quiet footsteps; he advanced, turned, saw me--I too,
-turned--and so, in this way, it came about that I stood face to face
-with my own father.
-
-... I had found the eternal life full of the unexpected, but this was
-almost the sweetest thing that had happened to me yet.
-
-Presently my father took me over the house and the grounds; with a
-boyish delight, explaining to me how many years he had been building and
-constructing and waiting with patience in his heavenly home for the
-first one of his own to join him. Now, he too, should have “somebody to
-come home to.” As we dwelt upon the past and glanced at the future, our
-full hearts overflowed. He explained to me that my new life had but now,
-in the practical sense of the word, begun; since a human home was the
-centre of all growth and blessedness. When he had shown me to my own
-portion of the house, and bidden me welcome to it, he pointed out to me
-a certain room whose door stood always open, but whose threshold was
-never crossed. I hardly feel that I have the right, in this public way,
-to describe, in detail, the construction or adornment of this room. I
-need only say that Heaven itself seemed to have been ransacked to bring
-together the daintiest, the most delicate, the purest, thoughts and
-fancies that celestial skill or art could create. Years had gone to the
-creation of this spot; it was a growth of time, the occupation of that
-loneliness which must be even in the happy life, when death has
-temporarily separated two who had been one. I was quite prepared for his
-whispered words, when he said,--
-
-“Your mother’s room, my dear. It will be all ready for her at any time.”
-
-This union had been a _marriage_--not one of the imperfect ties that
-pass under the name, on earth. Afterwards, when I learned more of the
-social economy of the new life, I perceived more clearly the rarity and
-peculiar value of an experience which had in it the elements of what
-might be called (if I should be allowed the phrase) eternal permanency,
-and which involved, therefore, none of the disintegration and
-redistribution of relations consequent upon passing from temporary or
-mistaken choices to a fixed and perfect state of society.
-
-Later, on that same evening, I was called eagerly from below. I was
-resting, and alone;--I had, so to speak, drawn my first breath in
-Heaven; once again, like a girl in my own room under my father’s roof;
-my heart at anchor, and my peace at full tide. I ran as I used to run,
-years ago, when he called me, crying down,--
-
-“I’m coming, Father,” while I delayed a moment to freshen my dress, and
-to fasten it with some strange white flowers that climbed over my
-window, and peered, nodding like children, into the room.
-
-When I reached the hall, or whatever might be the celestial name for the
-entrance room below, I did not immediately see my father, but I heard
-the sound of voices beyond, and perceived the presence of many people in
-the house. As I hesitated, wondering what might be the etiquette of
-these new conditions, and whether I should be expected to play the
-hostess at a reception of angels or saints, some one came up from behind
-me, I think, and held out his hand in silence.
-
-“St. Johns!” I cried, “Jamie St. Johns! The last time I saw _you_”--
-
-“The last time you saw me was in a field-hospital after the battle of
-Malvern Hills,” said St. Johns. “I died in your arms, Miss Mary. Shot
-flew about you while you got me that last cup of water. I died hard. You
-sang the hymn I asked for--‘Ye who tossed on beds of pain’--and the
-shell struck the tent-pole twenty feet off, but you sang right on. I was
-afraid you would stop. I was almost gone. But you never faltered. You
-sang my soul out--do you remember? I’ve been watching all this while for
-you. I’ve been a pretty busy man since I got to this place, but I’ve
-always found time to run in and ask your father when he expected you.
-
-“I meant to be the first all along; but I hear there’s a girl got ahead
-of me. She’s here, too, and some more women. But most of us are the
-boys, to-night, Miss Mary,--come to give you a sort of
-house-warming--just to say we’ve never forgotten!... and you see we want
-to say ‘Welcome home at last’ to _our_ army woman--God bless her--as she
-blessed us!
-
-“Come in, Miss Mary! Don’t feel bashful. It’s nobody but your own boys.
-Here we are. There’s a thing I remember--you used to read it. ‘_For when
-ye fail_’--you know I never could quote straight--‘_they shall receive
-you into everlasting habitations_’--Wasn’t that it? Now here. See! Count
-us! _Not one missing_, do you see? You said you’d have us all here
-yet--all that died before you did. You used to tell us so. You prayed
-it, and you lived it, and you did it, and, by His everlasting mercy,
-here we are. Look us over. Count again. I couldn’t make a speech on
-earth and I can’t make one in Heaven--but the fellows put me up to it.
-_Come_ in, Miss Mary! _Dear_ Miss Mary--why, we want to shake hands with
-you, all around! We want to sit and tell army-stories half the night. We
-want to have some of the old songs, and--What! Crying, Miss
-Mary?--_You?_ We never saw you cry in all our lives. Your lip used to
-tremble. You got pretty white; but you weren’t that kind of woman. Oh,
-see here! _Crying_ in HEAVEN?”--
-
-
-
-
-X.
-
-
-From this time, the events which I am trying to relate began to assume
-in fact a much more orderly course; yet in form I scarcely find them
-more easy to present. Narrative, as has been said of conversation, “is
-always but a selection,” and in this case the peculiar difficulties of
-choosing from an immense mass of material that which can be most fitly
-compressed into the compass allowed me by these few pages, are so great,
-that I have again and again laid down my task in despair; only to be
-urged on by my conviction that it is more clearly my duty to speak what
-may carry comfort to the hearts of some, than to worry because my
-imperfect manner of expression may offend the heads of others. All I can
-presume to hope for this record of an experience is, that it may have a
-passing value to certain of my readers whose anticipations of what they
-call “the Hereafter” are so vague or so dubious as to be more of a pain
-than a pleasure to themselves.
-
-From the time of my reception into my father’s house, I lost the sense
-of homelessness which had more or less possessed me since my entrance
-upon the new life, and felt myself becoming again a member of an
-organized society, with definite duties as well as assured pleasures
-before me.
-
-These duties I did not find astonishingly different in their essence,
-while they had changed greatly in form, from those which had occupied me
-upon earth. I found myself still involved in certain filial and domestic
-responsibilities, in intellectual acquisition, in the moral support of
-others, and in spiritual self-culture. I found myself a member of an
-active community in which not a drone nor an invalid could be counted,
-and I quickly became, like others who surrounded me, an exceedingly busy
-person. At first my occupations did not assume sharp professional
-distinctiveness, but had rather the character of such as would belong to
-one in training for a more cultivated condition. This seemed to be true
-of many of my fellow-citizens; that they were still in a state of
-education for superior usefulness or happiness. With others, as I have
-intimated, it was not so. My father’s business, for instance, remained
-what it had always been--that of a religious teacher; and I met women
-and men as well, to whom, as in the case of my old neighbor, Mrs.
-Mersey, there had been set apart an especial fellowship with the spirits
-of the recently dead or still living, who had need of great guidance. I
-soon formed, by observation, at least, the acquaintance, too, of a wide
-variety of natures;--I met artisans and artists, poets and scientists,
-people of agricultural pursuits, mechanical inventors, musicians,
-physicians, students, tradesmen, aerial messengers to the earth, or to
-other planets, and a long list besides, that would puzzle more than it
-would enlighten, should I attempt to describe it. I mention these
-points, which I have no space to amplify, mainly to give reality to any
-allusions that I shall make to my relations in the heavenly city, and to
-let it be understood that I speak of a community as organized and as
-various as Paris or New York; which possessed all the advantages and
-none of the evils that we are accustomed to associate with massed
-population; that such a community existed without sorrow, without
-sickness, without death, without anxiety, and without sin; that the
-evidences of almost incredible harmony, growth, and happiness which I
-saw before me in that one locality, I had reason to believe extended to
-uncounted others in unknown regions, thronging with joys and activities
-the mysteries of space and time.
-
-For reasons which will be made clear as I approach the end of my
-narrative, I cannot speak as fully of many high and marvelous matters in
-the eternal life, as I wish that I might have done. I am giving
-impressions which, I am keenly aware, have almost the imperfection of a
-broken dream. I can only crave from the reader, on trust, a patience
-which he may be more ready to grant me at a later time.
-
-I now began, as I say, to assume regular duties and pleasures; among the
-keenest of the latter was the constant meeting of old friends and
-acquaintances. Much perplexity, great delight, and some disappointment
-awaited me in these _dénouements_ of earthly story.
-
-The people whom I had naturally expected to meet earliest were often
-longest delayed from crossing my path; in some cases, they were
-altogether missing. Again, I was startled by coming in contact with
-individuals that I had never associated, in my conceptions of the
-future, with a spiritual existence at all; in these cases I was
-sometimes humbled by discovering a type of spiritual character so far
-above my own, that my fancies in their behalf proved to be unwarrantable
-self-sufficiency. Social life in the heavenly world, I soon learned, was
-a series of subtle or acute surprises. It sometimes reminded me of a
-simile of George Eliot’s, wherein she likened human existence to a game
-of chess in which each one of the pieces had intellect and passions, and
-the player might be beaten by his own pawns. The element of
-unexpectedness, which constitutes the first and yet the most unreliable
-charm of earthly society, had here acquired a permanent dignity. One of
-the most memorable things which I observed about heavenly relations was,
-that people did not, in the degree or way to which I was accustomed,
-tire of each other. Attractions, to begin with, were less lightly
-experienced; their hold was deeper; their consequences more lasting. I
-had not been under my new conditions long, before I learned that here
-genuine feeling was never suffered to fall a sacrifice to intellectual
-curiosity, or emotional caprice; that here one had at last the stimulus
-of social attrition without its perils, its healthy pleasures without
-its pains. I learned, of course, much else, which it is more than
-difficult, and some things which it is impossible, to explain. I testify
-only of what I am permitted.
-
-Among the intellectual labors that I earliest undertook was the command
-of the Universal Language, which I soon found necessary to my
-convenience. In a community like that I had entered, many nationalities
-were represented, and I observed that while each retained its own
-familiar earthly tongue, and one had the pleasant opportunity of
-acquiring as many others as one chose, yet a common vocabulary became a
-desideratum of which, indeed, no one was compelled to avail himself
-contrary to his taste, but in which many, like myself, found the
-greatest pleasure and profit. The command of this language occupied much
-well-directed time.
-
-I should not omit to say that a portion of my duty and my privilege
-consisted in renewed visits to the dearly-loved whom I had left upon the
-earth. These visits were sometimes matters of will with me. Again, they
-were strictly occasions of permission, and again, I was denied the power
-to make them when I most deeply desired to do so. Herein I learned the
-difference between trial and trouble, and that while the last was
-stricken out of heavenly life, the first distinctly remained. It is
-pleasant to me to remember that I was allowed to be of more than a
-little comfort to those who mourned for me; that it was I who guided
-them from despair to endurance, and so through peace to cheerfulness,
-and the hearty renewal of daily human content. These visits were for a
-long time--excepting the rare occasions on which I met Him who had
-spoken to me upon the sea-shore--the deepest delight which was offered
-me.
-
-Upon one point I foresee that I shall be questioned by those who have
-had the patience so far to follow my recital. What, it will be asked,
-was the political constitution of the community you describe? What place
-in celestial society has worldly caste?
-
-When I say, strictly none at all, let me not be misunderstood. I
-observed the greatest varieties of rank in the celestial kingdom, which
-seemed to me rather a close Theocracy than a wild commune. There were
-powers above me, and powers below; there were natural and harmonious
-social selections; there were laws and their officers; there was
-obedience and its dignity; there was influence and its authority; there
-were gifts and their distinctions. I may say that I found far more
-reverence for differences of rank or influence than I was used to
-seeing, at least in my own corner of the earth. The main point was that
-the basis of the whole thing had undergone a tremendous change.
-Inheritance, wealth, intellect, genius, beauty, all the old passports to
-power, were replaced by one so simple yet so autocratic, that I hardly
-know how to give any idea at once of its dignity and its sweetness. I
-may call this personal holiness. Position, in the new life, I found
-depended upon spiritual claims. Distinction was the result of character.
-The nature nearest to the Divine Nature ruled the social forces.
-Spiritual culture was the ultimate test of individual importance.
-
-I inquired one day for a certain writer of world-wide--I mean of
-earth-wide--celebrity, who, I had learned, was a temporary visitor in
-the city, and whom I wished to meet. I will not for sufficient reasons
-mention the name of this man, who had been called the genius of his
-century, below. I had anticipated that a great ovation would be given
-him, in which I desired to join, and I was surprised that his presence
-made little or no stir in our community. Upon investigating the facts, I
-learned that his public influence was, so far, but a slight one, though
-it had gradually gained, and was likely to increase with time. He had
-been a man whose splendid powers were dedicated to the temporary and
-worldly aspects of Truth, whose private life was selfish and cruel, who
-had written the most famous poem of his age, but “by all his searching”
-had not found out God.
-
-In the conditions of the eternal life, this genius had been obliged to
-set itself to learning the alphabet of spiritual truth; he was still a
-pupil, rather than a master among us, and I was told that he himself
-ardently objected to receiving a deference which was not as yet his due;
-having set the might of his great nature as strenuously now to the
-spiritual, as once to the intellectual task; in which, I must say, I was
-not without expectation that he would ultimately outvie us all.
-
-On the same day when this distinguished man entered and left our city
-(having quietly accomplished his errand), I heard the confusion of some
-public excitement at a distance, and hastening to see what it meant, I
-discovered that the object of it was a plain, I thought in her earthly
-life she must have been a poor woman, obscure, perhaps, and timid. The
-people pressed towards her, and received her into the town by
-acclamation. They crowned her with amaranth and flung lilies in her
-path. The authorities of the city officially met her; the people of
-influence hastened to beseech her to do honor to their homes by her
-modest presence; we crowded for a sight of her, we begged for a word
-from her, we bewildered her with our tributes, till she hid her blushing
-face and was swept out of our sight.
-
-“But who is this,” I asked an eager passer, “to whom such an
-extraordinary reception is tendered? I have seen nothing like it since I
-came here.”
-
-“Is it possible you do not know ---- ----?”
-
-My informant gave a name which indeed was not unfamiliar to me; it was
-that of a woman who had united to extreme beauty of private character,
-and a high type of faith in invisible truths, life-long devotion to an
-unpopular philanthropy. She had never been called a “great” woman on
-earth. Her influence had not been large. Her cause had never been the
-fashion, while she herself was living. Society had never amused itself
-by adopting her, even to the extent of a parlor lecture. Her name, so
-far as it was familiar to the public at all, had been the synonym of a
-poor zealot, a plain fanatic, to be tolerated for her conscientiousness
-and--avoided for her earnestness. Since her death, the humane
-consecration which she represented had marched on like a conquering army
-over her grave. Earth, of which she was not worthy, had known her too
-late. Heaven was proud to do honor to the spiritual foresight and
-sustained self-denial, as royal as it was rare.
-
-I remember, also, being deeply touched by a sight upon which I chanced,
-one morning, when I was strolling about the suburbs of the city, seeking
-the refreshment of solitude before the duties of the day began. For,
-while I was thus engaged, I met our Master, suddenly. He was busily
-occupied with others, and, beyond the deep recognition of His smile, I
-had no converse with Him. He was followed at a little distance, as He
-was apt to be, by a group of playing children; but He was in close
-communion with two whom I saw to be souls newly-arrived from the lower
-life. One of these was a man--I should say he had been a rough man, and
-had come out of a rude life--who conversed with Him eagerly but
-reverently, as they walked on towards the town. Upon the other side, our
-Lord held with His own hand the hand of a timid, trembling woman, who
-scarcely dared raise her eyes from the ground; now and then she drew His
-garment’s edge furtively to her lips, and let it fall again, with the
-slow motion of one who is in a dream of ecstasy. These two people, I
-judged, had no connection with each other beyond the fact that they were
-simultaneous new-comers to the new country, and had, perhaps, both borne
-with them either special need or merit, I could hardly decide which. I
-took occasion to ask a neighbor, an old resident of the city, and wise
-in its mysteries, what he supposed to be the explanation of the scene
-before us, and why these two were so distinguished by the favor of Him
-whose least glance made holiday in the soul of any one of us. It was
-then explained to me, that the man about whom I had inquired was the
-hero of a great calamity, with which the lower world was at present
-occupied. One of the most frightful railway accidents of this generation
-had been averted, and the lives of four hundred helpless passengers
-saved, by the sublime sacrifice of this locomotive engineer, who died
-(it will be remembered) a death of voluntary and unique torture to save
-his train. All that could be said of the tragedy was that it held the
-essence of self-sacrifice in a form seldom attained by man. At the
-moment I saw this noble fellow, he had so immediately come among us that
-the expression of physical agony had hardly yet died out of his face,
-and his eye still blazed with the fire of his tremendous deed.
-
-“But who is the woman?” I asked.
-
-“She was a delicate creature--sick--died of the fright and shock; the
-only passenger on the train who did not escape.”
-
-I inquired why she too was thus preferred; what glorious deed had she
-done, to make her so dear to the Divine Heart?
-
-“She? Ah, she,” said my informant, “was only one of the household
-saints. She had been notable among celestial observers for many years.
-You know the type I mean--shy, silent--never thinks of herself, scarcely
-knows she has a self--toils, drudges, endures, prays; expects nothing of
-her friends, and gives all; hopes for little, even from her Lord, but
-surrenders everything; full of religious ideals, not all of them
-theoretically wise, but practically noble; a woman ready to be cut to
-inch pieces for her faith in an invisible Love that has never apparently
-given her anything in particular. Oh, you know the kind of woman: has
-never had anything of her own, in all her life--not even her own
-room--and a whole family adore her without knowing it, and lean upon her
-like infants without seeing it. We have been watching for this woman’s
-coming. We knew there would be an especial greeting for her. But nobody
-thought of her accompanying the engineer. Come! Shall we not follow, and
-see how they will be received? If I am not mistaken, it will be a great
-day in the city.”
-
-
-
-
-XI.
-
-
-Among the inquiries that must be raised by my fragmentary recital, I am
-only too keenly aware of the difficulty of answering one which I do not
-see my way altogether to ignore. I refer to that affecting the domestic
-relations of the eternal world.
-
-It will be readily seen that I might not be permitted to share much of
-the results of my observation in this direction, with earthly curiosity,
-or even earthly anxiety. It is not without thought and prayer for close
-guidance that I suffer myself to say, in as few words as possible, that
-I found the unions which go to form heavenly homes so different from the
-marriage relations of earth, in their laws of selection and government,
-that I quickly understood the meaning of our Lord’s few revealed words
-as to that matter; while yet I do not find myself at liberty to explain
-either the words or the facts. I think I cannot be wrong in adding,
-that in a number of cases, so great as to astonish me, the marriages of
-earth had no historic effect upon the ties of Heaven. Laws of
-affiliation uniting soul to soul in a relation infinitely closer than a
-bond, and more permanent than any which the average human experience
-would lead to if it were socially a free agent, controlled the
-attractions of this pure and happy life, in a manner of which I can only
-say that it must remain a mystery to the earthly imagination. I have
-intimated that in some cases the choices of time were so blessed as to
-become the choices of Eternity. I may say, that if I found it lawful to
-utter the impulse of my soul, I should cry throughout the breadth of the
-earth a warning to the lightness, or the haste, or the presumption, or
-the mistake that chose to love for one world, when it might have loved
-for two.
-
-For, let me say most solemnly, that the relations made between man and
-woman on earth I found to be, in importance to the individual, second to
-nothing in the range of human experience, save the adjustment of the
-soul to the Personality of God Himself.
-
-If I say that I found earthly marriage to have been a temporary
-expedient for preserving the form of the eternal fact; that freedom in
-this as in all other things became in Heaven the highest law; that the
-great sea of human misery, swelled by the passion of love on earth,
-shall evaporate to the last drop in the blaze of bliss to which no human
-counterpart can approach any nearer than a shadow to the sun,--I may be
-understood by those for whose sake alone it is worth while to allude to
-this mystery at all; for the rest it matters little.
-
-Perhaps I should say, once for all, that every form of pure pleasure or
-happiness which had existed upon the earth had existed as a type of a
-greater. Our divinest hours below had been scarcely more than
-suggestions of their counterparts above. I do not expect to be
-understood. It must only be remembered that, in all instances, the
-celestial life develops the soul of a thing. When I speak of eating and
-drinking, for instance, I do not mean that we cooked and prepared our
-food as we do below. The elements of nutrition continued to exist for us
-as they had in the earth, the air, the water, though they were available
-without drudgery or anxiety. Yet I mean distinctly that the sense of
-taste remained, that it was gratified at need, that it was a finer one
-and gave a keener pleasure than its coarser prototype below. I mean that
-the _soul of a sense_ is a more exquisite thing than what we may call
-the body of the sense, as developed to earthly consciousness.
-
-So far from there being any diminution in the number or power of the
-senses in the spiritual life, I found not only an acuter intensity in
-those which we already possessed, but that the effect of our new
-conditions was to create others of whose character we had never dreamed.
-To be sure, wise men had forecast the possibility of this fact,
-differing among themselves even as to the accepted classification of
-what they had, as Scaliger who called speech the sixth sense, or our
-English contemporary who included heat and force in his list (also of
-six); or more imaginative men who had admitted the conceivability of
-inconceivable powers in an order of being beyond the human. Knowing a
-little of these speculations, I was not so much surprised at the facts
-as overwhelmed by their extent and variety. Yet if I try to explain
-them, I am met by an almost insurmountable obstacle.
-
-It is well known that missionaries are often thwarted in their religious
-labors by the absence in savage tongues of any words corresponding to
-certain ideas such as that of purity or unselfishness. Philologists have
-told us of one African tribe in whose language exist six different words
-descriptive of murder; none whatever expressive of love. In another no
-such word as gratitude can be found. Perhaps no illustration can better
-serve to indicate the impediments which bar the way to my describing to
-beings who possess but five senses and their corresponding imaginative
-culture, the habits or enjoyments consequent upon the development of ten
-senses or fifteen. I am allowed to say as much as this: that the growth
-of these celestial powers was variable with individuals throughout the
-higher world, or so much of it as I became acquainted with. It will be
-readily seen what an illimitable scope for anticipation or achievement
-is given to daily life by such an evolution of the nature. It should be
-carefully remembered that this serves only as a single instance of the
-exuberance of what we call everlasting life.
-
-Below, I remember that I used sometimes to doubt the possibility of
-one’s being happy forever under any conditions, and had moods in which I
-used to question the value of endless existence. I wish most earnestly
-to say, that before I had been in Heaven days, Eternity did not seem
-long enough to make room for the growth of character, the growth of
-mind, the variety of enjoyment and employment, and the increase of
-usefulness that practically constituted immortality.
-
-It could not have been long after my arrival at my father’s house that
-he took me with him to the great music hall of our city. It was my first
-attendance at any one of the public festivals of these happy people,
-and one long to be treasured in thought. It was, in fact, nothing less
-than the occasion of a visit by Beethoven, and the performance of a new
-oratorio of his own, which he conducted in person. Long before the
-opening hour the streets of the city were thronged. People with holiday
-expressions poured in from the country. It was a gala-day with all the
-young folks especially, much as such matters go below. A beautiful thing
-which I noticed was the absence of all personal insistence in the crowd.
-The weakest, or the saddest, or the most timid, or those who, for any
-reason, had the more need of this great pleasure, were selected by their
-neighbors and urged on into the more desirable positions. The music
-hall, so-called, was situated upon a hill just outside the town, and
-consisted of an immense roof supported by rose-colored marble pillars.
-There were no walls to the building, so that there was the effect of
-being no limit to the audience, which extended past the line of
-luxuriously covered seats provided for them, upon the grass, and even
-into the streets leading to the city. So perfect were what we should
-call below the telephonic arrangement of the community, that those who
-remained in their own homes or pursued their usual avocations were not
-deprived of the music. My impressions are that every person in the city,
-who desired to put himself in communication with it, heard the oratorio;
-but I am not familiar with the system by which this was effected. It
-involved a high advance in the study of acoustics, and was one of the
-things which I noted to be studied at a wiser time.
-
-Many distinguished persons known to you below, were present, some from
-our own neighborhood, and others guests of the city. It was delightful
-to observe the absence of all jealousy or narrow criticism among
-themselves, and also the reverence with which their superiority was
-regarded by the less gifted. Every good or great thing seemed to be so
-heartily shared with every being capable of sharing it, and all personal
-gifts to become material for such universal pride, that one experienced
-a kind of transport at the elevation of the public character.
-
-I remembered how it used to be below, when I was present at some musical
-festival in the familiar hall where the bronze statue of Beethoven,
-behind the sea of sound, stood calmly. How he towered above our poor
-unfinished story! As we grouped there, sitting each isolated with his
-own thirst, brought to be slaked or excited by the flood of music;
-drinking down into our frivolity or our despair the outlet of that
-mighty life, it used to seem to me that I heard, far above the passion
-of the orchestra, his own high words,--his own music made
-articulate,--“_I go to meet Death with joy._”
-
-When there came upon the people in that heavenly audience-room a stir,
-like the rustling of a dead leaf upon crusted snow; when the stir grew
-to a solemn murmur; when the murmur ran into a lofty cry; when I saw
-that the orchestra, the chorus, and the audience had risen like one
-breathless man, and knew that Beethoven stood before us, the light of
-day darkened for that instant before me. The prelude was well under
-way, I think, before I dared lift my eyes to his face.
-
-The great tide swept me on. When upon earth had he created sound like
-this? Where upon earth had we heard its like? There he is, one listening
-nerve from head to foot, he who used to stand deaf in the middle of his
-own orchestra--desolate no more, denied no more forever, all the
-heavenly senses possible to Beethoven awake to the last delicate
-response; all the solemn faith in the invisible, in the holy, which he
-had made his own, triumphant now; all the powers of his mighty nature in
-action like a rising storm--there stands Beethoven immortally alive.
-
-What knew we of music, I say, who heard its earthly prototype? It was
-but the tuning of the instruments before the eternal orchestra shall
-sound. Soul! swing yourself free upon this mighty current. Of what will
-Beethoven tell us whom he dashes on like drops?
-
-As the pæan rises, I bow my life to understand. What would he with us
-whom God chose to make Beethoven everlastingly? What is the burden of
-this master’s message, given now in Heaven, as once on earth? Do we hear
-aright? Do we read the score correctly?
-
-“Holy--holy”--
-
-A chorus of angel voices, trained since the time when morning stars sang
-together with the sons of God, take up the words:
-
-“Holy, _holy_, HOLY is the Lord.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-When the oratorio has ended, and we glide out, each hushed as a hidden
-thought, to his own ways, I stay beneath a linden-tree to gather breath.
-A fine sound, faint as the music of a dream, strikes my ringing ears,
-and, looking up, I see that the leaf above my head is singing. Has it,
-too, been one of the great chorus yonder? Did he command the forces of
-nature, as he did the seraphs of Heaven, or the powers of earth?
-
-The strain falls away slowly from the lips of the leaf:
-
-“Holy, holy, holy,”--
-
-It trembles, and is still.
-
-
-
-
-XII.
-
-
-That which it is permitted me to relate to you moves on swiftly before
-the thoughts, like the compression in the last act of a drama. The next
-scene which starts from the variousness of heavenly delight I find to be
-the Symphony of Color.
-
-There was a time in the history of art, below, when this, and similar
-phrases, had acquired almost a slang significance, owing to the
-affectation of their use by the shallow. I was, therefore, the more
-surprised at meeting a fact so lofty behind the guise of the familiar
-words; and noted it as but one of many instances in which the earthly
-had deteriorated from the ideals of the celestial life.
-
-It seemed that the development of color had reached a point never
-conceived of below, and that the treatment of it constituted an art by
-itself. By this I do not mean its treatment under the form of painting,
-decoration, dress, or any embodiment whatever. What we were called to
-witness was an exhibition of color, pure and simple.
-
-This occasion, of which I especially speak, was controlled by great
-colorists, some of earthly, some of heavenly renown. Not all of them
-were artists in the accepted sense of designers; among them were one or
-two select creatures in whom the passion of color had been remarkable,
-but, so far as the lower world was concerned, for the great part
-inactive, for want of any scientific means of expression.
-
-We have all known the _color natures_, and, if we have had a fine
-sympathy, have compassionated them as much as any upon earth, whether
-they were found among the disappointed disciples of Art itself, or
-hidden away in plain homes, where the paucity of existence held all the
-delicacy and the dream of life close prisoners.
-
-Among the managers of this Symphony I should say that I observed, at a
-distance, the form of Raphael. I heard it rumored that Leonardo was
-present, but I did not see him. There was another celebrated artist
-engaged in the work, whose name I am not allowed to give. It was an
-unusual occasion, and had attracted attention at a distance. The
-Symphony did not take place in our own city, but in an adjacent town, to
-which our citizens, as well as those of other places, repaired in great
-numbers. We sat, I remember, in a luxurious coliseum, closely darkened.
-The building was circular in form; it was indeed a perfect globe, in
-whose centre, without touching anywhere the superficies, we were seated.
-Air without light entered freely, I know not how, and fanned our faces
-perpetually. Distant music appealed to the ear, without engaging it.
-Pleasures, which we could receive or dismiss at will, wandered by, and
-were assimilated by those extra senses which I have no means of
-describing. Whatever could be done to put soul and body in a state of
-ease so perfect as to admit of complete receptivity, and in a mood so
-high as to induce the loftiest interpretation of the purely æsthetic
-entertainment before us, was done in the amazing manner characteristic
-of this country. I do not know that I had ever felt so keenly as on this
-occasion the delight taken by God in providing happiness for the
-children of His discipline and love. We had suffered so much, some of
-us, below, that it did not seem natural, at first, to accept sheer
-pleasure as an end in and of itself. But I learned that this, like many
-other fables in Heaven, had no moral. Live! Be! Do! Be glad! Because He
-lives, ye live also. Grow! Gain! Achieve! Hope! _That_ is to glorify Him
-and enjoy Him forever. Having fought--rest. Having trusted--know. Having
-endured--enjoy. Being safe--venture. Being pure--fear not to be
-sensitive. Being in harmony with the Soul of all delights--dare to
-indulge thine own soul to the brim therein. Having acquired
-holiness--thou hast no longer any broken law to fear. Dare to be happy.
-This was the spirit of daily life among us. “Nothing was required of us
-but to be natural,” as I have said before. And it “was natural to be
-right,” thank God, at last.
-
-Being a new-comer, and still so unlearned, I could not understand the
-Color Symphony as many of the spectators did, while yet I enjoyed it
-intensely, as an untaught musical organization may enjoy the most
-complicated composition. I think it was one of the most stimulating
-sights I ever saw, and my ambition to master this new art flashed fire
-at once.
-
-Slowly, as we sat silent, at the centre of that great white globe--it
-was built of porphyry, I think, or some similar substance--there began
-to breathe upon the surface pure light. This trembled and deepened, till
-we were enclosed in a sphere of white fire. This I perceived, to
-scholars in the science of color, signified distinct thought, as a grand
-chord does to the musician. Thus it was with the hundred effects which
-followed. White light quivered into pale blue. Blue struggled with
-violet. Gold and orange parted. Green and gray and crimson glided on.
-Rose--the living rose--blushed upon us, and faltered
-under--over--yonder, till we were shut into a world of it, palpitating.
-It was as if we had gone behind the soul of a woman’s blush, or the
-meaning of a sunrise. Whoever has known the passion for that color will
-understand why some of the spectators were with difficulty restrained
-from flinging themselves down into it, as into a sea of rapture.
-
-There were others more affected by the purple, and even by the scarlet;
-some, again, by the delicate tints in which was the color of the sun,
-and by colors which were hints rather than expressions. Marvelous
-modifications of rays set in. They had their laws, their chords, their
-harmonies, their scales; they carried their melodies and “execution;”
-they had themes and ornamentation. Each combination had its meaning. The
-trained eye received it, as the trained ear receives orchestra or
-oratory. The senses melted, but the intellect was astir. A perfect
-composition of color unto color was before us, exquisite in detail,
-magnificent in mass. Now it seemed as if we ourselves, sitting there
-ensphered in color, flew around the globe with the quivering rays. Now
-as if we sank into endless sleep with reposing tints; now as if we
-drank of color; then as if we dreamed it; now as if we felt it--clasped
-it; then as if we heard it. We were taken into the heart of it; into the
-mystery of the June sky, and the grass-blade, the blue-bell, the child’s
-cheek, the cloud at sunset, the snowdrift at twilight. The apple-blossom
-told us its secret, and the down on the pigeon’s neck, and the plume of
-the rose-curlew, and the robin’s-egg, and the hair of blonde women, and
-the scarlet passion-flower, and the mist over everglades, and the power
-of a dark eye.
-
-It may be remembered that I have alluded once to the rainbow which I saw
-soon after reaching the new life, and that I raised a question at the
-time as to the number of rays exhibited in the celestial prism. As I
-watched the Symphony, I became convinced that the variety of colors
-unquestionably far exceeded those with which we were familiar on earth.
-The Indian occultists indeed had long urged that they saw fourteen tints
-in the prism; this was the dream of the mystic, who, by a tremendous
-system of education, claims to have subjected the body to the soul, so
-that the ordinary laws of nature yield to his control. Physicists had
-also taught us that the laws of optics involved the necessity of other
-colors beyond those whose rays were admissible by our present vision;
-this was the assertion of that science which is indebted more largely to
-the imagination than the worshiper of the Fact has yet arisen from his
-prone posture high enough to see.
-
-Now, indeed, I had the truth before me. Colors which no artist’s
-palette, no poet’s rapture knew, played upon optic nerves exquisitely
-trained to receive such effects, and were appropriated by other senses
-empowered to share them in a manner which human language supplies me
-with no verb or adjective to express.
-
-As we journeyed home after the Symphony, I was surprised to find how
-calming had been the effect of its intense excitement. Without fever of
-pulse or rebel fancy or wearied nerve, I looked about upon the peaceful
-country. I felt ready for any duty. I was strong for all deprivation. I
-longed to live more purely. I prayed to live more unselfishly. I
-greatly wished to share the pleasure, with which I had been blessed,
-with some denied soul. I thought of uneducated people, and coarse
-people, who had yet to be trained to so many of the highest varieties of
-happiness. I thought of sick people, all their earthly lives invalids,
-recently dead, and now free to live. I wished that I had sought some of
-these out, and taken them with me to the Symphony.
-
-It was a rare evening, even in the blessed land. I enjoyed the change of
-scene as I used to do in traveling, below. It was delightful to look
-abroad and see everywhere prosperity and peace. The children were
-shouting and tumbling in the fields. Young people strolled laughing by
-twos or in groups. The vigorous men and women busied themselves or
-rested at the doors of cosy homes. The ineffable landscape of hill and
-water stretched on behind the human foreground. Nowhere a chill or a
-blot; nowhere a tear or a scowl, a deformity, a disability, or an evil
-passion. There was no flaw in the picture. There was no error in the
-fact. I felt that I was among a perfectly happy people. I said, “I am
-in a holy world.”
-
-The next day was a Holy Day; we of the earth still called it the
-Sabbath, from long habit. I remember an especial excitement on that Holy
-Day following the Color Symphony, inasmuch as we assembled to be
-instructed by one whom, above all other men that had ever lived on
-earth, I should have taken most trouble to hear. This was no other than
-St. John the Apostle.
-
-I remember that we held the service in the open air, in the fields
-beyond the city, for “there was no Temple therein.” The Beloved Disciple
-stood above us, on the rising ground. It would be impossible to forget,
-but it is well-nigh impossible to describe, the appearance of the
-preacher. I think he had the most sensitive face I ever saw in any man;
-yet his dignity was unapproachable. He had a ringing voice of remarkable
-sweetness, and great power of address. He seemed more divested of
-himself than any orator I had heard. He poured his personality out upon
-us, like one of the forces of nature, as largely, and as unconsciously.
-
-He taught us much. He reasoned of mysteries over which we had pored
-helplessly all our lives below. He explained intricate points in the
-plan of human life. He touched upon the perplexities of religious faith.
-He cast a great light backward over the long, dim way by which we had
-crept to our present blessedness. He spoke to us of our deadliest
-doubts. He confirmed for us our patient belief. He made us ashamed of
-our distrust and our restlessness. He left us eager for faith. He gave
-vigor to our spiritual ideals. He spoke to us of the love of God, as the
-light speaks of the sun. He revealed to us how we had misunderstood Him.
-Our souls cried out within us, as we remembered our errors. We gathered
-ourselves like soldiers as we knew our possibilities. We swayed in his
-hands as the bough sways in the wind. Each man looked at his neighbor as
-one whose eyes ask: “Have I wronged thee? Let me atone.” “Can I serve
-thee? Show me how.” All our spiritual life arose like an athlete, to
-exercise itself; we sought hard tasks; we aspired for far prizes; we
-turned to our daily lives like new-created beings; so truly we had kept
-Holy Day. When the discourse was over, there followed an anthem sung by
-a choir of child-angels hovering in mid-air above the preacher, and
-beautiful exceedingly to the sight and to the ear. “God,” they sang, “is
-Love--_is_ Love--is LOVE.” In the refrain we joined with our own awed
-voices.
-
-The chant died away. All the air of all the worlds was still. The
-beloved Disciple raised his hand in solemn signal. A majestic Form
-glided to his side. To whom should the fisherman of Galilee turn with a
-look like _that_? Oh, grace of God! what a smile was there! The Master
-and Disciple stand together; they rise above us. See! He falls upon his
-knees before that Other. So we also, sinking to our own, hide our very
-faces from the sight.
-
-Our Lord steps forth, and stands alone. To us in glory, as to them of
-old in sorrow, He is the God made manifest. We do not lift our bowed
-heads, but we feel that He has raised His piercéd hands above us, and
-that His own lips call down the Benediction of His Father upon our
-eternal lives.
-
-
-
-
-XIII.
-
-
-My father had been absent from home a great deal, taking journeys with
-whose object he did not acquaint me. I myself had not visited the earth
-for some time; I cannot say how long. I do not find it possible to
-divide heavenly time by an earthly calendar, and cannot even decide how
-much of an interval, by human estimates, had been indeed covered by my
-residence in the Happy Country, as described upon these pages.
-
-My duties had called me in other directions, and I had been exceedingly
-busy. My father sometimes spoke of our dear hearts at home, and reported
-them as all well; but he was not communicative about them. I observed
-that he took more pains than usual, or I should say more pleasure than
-usual, in the little domestic cares of our heavenly home. Never had it
-been in more perfect condition. The garden and the grounds were looking
-exquisitely. All the trifling comforts or ornaments of the house were to
-his mind. We talked of them much, and wandered about in our leisure
-moments, altering or approving details. I did my best to make him happy,
-but my own heart told me how lonely he must be despite me. We talked
-less of her coming than we used to do. I felt that he had accepted the
-separation with the unquestioning spirit which one gains so deeply in
-Heaven; and that he was content, as one who trusted, still to wait.
-
-One evening, I came home slowly and alone. My father had been away for
-some days. I had been passing several hours with some friends, who, with
-myself, had been greatly interested in an event of public importance. A
-messenger was needed to carry certain tidings to a great astronomer,
-known to us of old on earth, who was at that time busied in research in
-a distant planet. It was a desirable embassy, and many sought the
-opportunity for travel and culture which it gave. After some delay in
-the appointment, it was given to a person but just arrived from below:
-a woman not two days dead. This surprised me till I had inquired into
-the circumstances, when I learned that the new-comer had been on earth
-an extreme sufferer, bed-ridden for forty years. Much of this time she
-had been unable even to look out of doors. The airs of Heaven had been
-shut from her darkened chamber. For years she had not been able to
-sustain conversation with her own friends, except on rare occasions.
-Possessed of a fine mind, she had been unable to read, or even to bear
-the human voice in reading. Acute pain had tortured her days.
-Sleeplessness had made horror of her nights. She was poor. She was
-dependent. She was of a refined organization. She was of a high spirit,
-and of energetic temperament. Medical science, holding out no cure,
-assured her that she might live to old age. She lived. When she was
-seventy-six years old, death remembered her. This woman had sometimes
-been inquired of, touching her faith in that Mystery which we call God.
-I was told that she gave but one answer; beyond this, revealing no more
-of experience than the grave itself, to which, more than to any other
-simile, her life could be likened.
-
-“Though He slay me,” she said, “I will trust.”
-
-“But, do you never doubt?”
-
-“I _will_ trust.”
-
-To this rare spirit, set free at last and re-embodied, the commission of
-which I have spoken was delegated; no one in all the city grudged her
-its coveted advantages. A mighty shout rose in the public ways when the
-selection was made known. I should have thought she might become
-delirious with the sudden access of her freedom, but it was said that
-she received her fortune quietly, and, slipping out of sight, was away
-upon her errand before we saw her face.
-
-The incident struck me as a most impressive one, and I was occupied with
-it, as I walked home thoughtfully. Indeed, I was so absorbed that I went
-with my eyes cast down, and scarcely noticed when I had reached our own
-home. I did not glance at the house, but continued my way up the
-winding walk between the trees, still drowned in my reverie.
-
-It was a most peaceful evening. I felt about me the fine light at which
-I did not look; that evening glow was one of the new colors,--one of the
-heavenly colors that I find it impossible to depict. The dog came to
-meet me as usual; he seemed keenly excited, and would have hurried me
-into the house. I patted him absently as I strolled on.
-
-Entering the house with a little of the sense of loss which, even in the
-Happy World, accompanies the absence of those we love, and wondering
-when my father would be once more with me, I was startled at hearing his
-voice--no, voices; there were two; they came from an upper chamber, and
-the silent house echoed gently with their subdued words.
-
-I stood for a moment listening below; I felt the color flash out of my
-face; my heart stood still. I took a step or two
-forward--hesitated--advanced with something like fear. The dog pushed
-before me, and urged me to follow. After a moment’s thought I did so,
-resolutely.
-
-The doors stood open everywhere, and the evening air blew in with a
-strong and wholesome force. No one had heard me. Guided by the voices of
-the unseen speakers I hurried on, across the hall, through my own room,
-and into that sacred spot I have spoken of, wherein for so many solitary
-years my dear father had made ready for her coming who was the joy of
-his joy, in Heaven, as she had been on earth.
-
-For that instant, I saw all the familiar details of the room in a blur
-of light. It was as if a sea of glory filled the place. Across it, out
-beyond the window, on the balcony which overlooked the hill-country and
-the sea, stood my father and my mother, hand in hand.
-
-She did not hear me, even yet. They were talking quietly, and were
-absorbed. Uncertain what to do, I might even have turned and left them
-undisturbed, so sacred seemed that hour of theirs to me; so separate in
-all the range of experience in either world, or any life. But her heart
-warned her, and she stirred, and so saw me--my dear mother--come to us,
-at last.
-
-Oh, what arms can gather like a mother’s, whether in earth or Heaven?
-Whose else could be those brooding touches, those raining tears, those
-half-inarticulate maternal words? And for her, too, the bitterness is
-passed, the blessedness begun. Oh, my dear mother! My dear mother! I
-thank God I was the child appointed to give you welcome--thus....
-
- * * * * *
-
-“And how is it with Tom,--poor Tom!”
-
-“He has grown such a fine fellow; you cannot think. I leaned upon him.
-He was the comfort of my old age.”
-
-“Poor Tom!”
-
-“And promises to make such a man, dear! A good boy. No bad habits, yet.
-Your father is so pleased that he makes a scholar.”
-
-“Dear Tom! And Alice?”
-
-“It was hard to leave Alice. But she is young. Life is before her. God
-is good.”
-
-“And you, my dearest, was it hard for you at the last? Was it a long
-sickness? Who took care of you? Mother! did you suffer _much_?”
-
-“Dear, I never suffered any. I had a sudden stroke I think. I was
-sitting by the fire with the children. It was vacation and Tom was at
-home. They were all at home. I started to cross the room, and it grew
-dark. I did not know that I was dead till I found I was standing there
-upon the balcony, in your father’s arms.”
-
-“I had to tell her what had happened. She wouldn’t believe me at the
-first.”
-
-“Were you with her all the time below?”
-
-“All the time; for days before the end.”
-
-“And you brought her here yourself, easily?”
-
-“All the way, myself. She slept like a baby, and wakened--as she says.”
-
-
-
-
-XIV.
-
-
-But was it possible to feel desolate in Heaven? Life now filled to the
-horizon. Our business, our studies, and our pleasures occupied every
-moment. Every day new expedients of delight unfurled before us. Our
-conceptions of happiness increased faster than their realization. The
-imagination itself grew, as much as the aspiration. We saw height beyond
-height of joy, as we saw outline above outline of duty. How paltry
-looked our wildest earthly dream! How small our largest worldly deed!
-One would not have thought it possible that one could even want so much
-as one demanded here; or hope so far as one expected now.
-
-What possibilities stretched on; each leading to a larger, like
-newly-discovered stars, one beyond another; as the pleasure or the
-achievement took its place, the capacity for the next increased.
-Satiety or its synonyms passed out of our language, except as a
-reminiscence of the past. See, what were the conditions of this eternal
-problem. Given: a pure heart, perfect health, unlimited opportunity for
-usefulness, infinite chance of culture, home, friendship, love; the
-elimination from practical life of anxiety and separation; and the
-intense spiritual stimulus of the presence of our dear Master, through
-whom we approached the mystery of God--how incredible to anything short
-of experience the sum of happiness!
-
-I soon learned how large a part of our delight consisted in
-anticipation; since now we knew anticipation without alloy of fear. I
-thought much of the joys in store for me, which yet I was not perfected
-enough to attain. I looked onward to the perpetual meeting of old
-friends and acquaintances, both of the living and the dead; to the
-command of unknown languages, arts, and sciences, and knowledges
-manifold; to the grandeur of helping the weak, and revering the strong;
-to the privilege of guarding the erring or the tried, whether of earth
-or heaven, and of sharing all attainable wisdom with the less wise, and
-of even instructing those too ignorant to know that they were not wise,
-and of ministering to the dying, and of assisting in bringing together
-the separated. I looked forward to meeting select natures, the
-distinguished of earth or Heaven; to reading history backward by contact
-with its actors, and settling its knotty points by their evidential
-testimony. Was I not in a world where Loyola, and Jeanne d’Arc, or
-Luther, or Arthur, could be asked questions?
-
-I would follow the experiments of great discoverers, since their advent
-to this place. What did Newton, and Columbus, and Darwin in the eternal
-life?
-
-I would keep pace with the development of art. To what standard had
-Michael Angelo been raising the public taste all these years?
-
-I would join the fragments of those private histories which had long
-been matter of public interest. Where, and whose now, was Vittoria
-Colonna?
-
-I would have the _finales_ of the old Sacred stories. What use had been
-made of the impetuosity of Peter? What was the private life of Saint
-John? With what was the fine intellect of Paul now occupied? What was
-the charm in the Magdalene? In what sacred fields did the sweet nature
-of Ruth go gleaning? Did David write the new anthems for the celestial
-chorals? What was the attitude of Moses towards the Persistence of
-Force? Where was Judas? And did the Betrayed plead for the betrayer?
-
-I would study the sociology of this explanatory life. Where, if
-anywhere, were the Cave-men? In what world, and under what educators,
-were the immortal souls of Laps and Bushmen trained? What social
-position had the early Christian martyrs? What became of Caligula, whose
-nurse, we were told, smeared her breasts with blood, and so developed
-the world-hated tyrant from the outraged infant? Where was Buddha, “the
-Man who knew”? What affectionate relation subsisted between him and the
-Man who Loved?
-
-I would bide my time patiently, but I, too, would become an experienced
-traveler through the spheres. Our Sun I would visit, and scarlet Mars,
-said by our astronomers below to be the planet most likely to contain
-inhabitants. The colored suns I would observe, and the nebulæ, and the
-mysteries of space, powerless now to chill one by its reputed
-temperature, said to be forever at zero. Where were the Alps of Heaven?
-The Niagara of celestial scenery? The tropics of the spiritual world?
-Ah, how I should pursue Eternity with questions!
-
-What was the relation of mechanical power to celestial conditions? What
-use was made of Watts and Stevenson?
-
-What occupied the ex-hod-carriers and cooks?
-
-Where were all the songs of all the poets? In the eternal accumulation
-of knowledge, what proportion sifted through the strainers of spiritual
-criticism? What _were_ the standards of spiritual criticism? What became
-of those creations of the human intellect which had acquired
-immortality? Were there instances where these figments of fancy had
-achieved an eternal existence lost by their own creators? Might not one
-of the possible mysteries of our new state of existence be the fact of a
-world peopled by the great creatures of our imagination known to us
-below? And might not one of our pleasures consist in visiting such a
-world? Was it incredible that Helen, and Lancelot, and Sigfried, and
-Juliet, and Faust, and Dinah Morris, and the Lady of Shalott, and Don
-Quixote, and Colonel Newcome, and Sam Weller, and Uncle Tom, and Hester
-Prynne and Jean Valjean existed? could be approached by way of holiday,
-as one used to take up the drama or the fiction, on a leisure hour, down
-below?
-
-Already, though so short a time had I been in the upper life, my
-imagination was overwhelmed with the sense of its possibilities. They
-seemed to overlap one another like the molecules of gold in a ring,
-without visible juncture or practical end. I was ready for the
-inconceivable itself. In how many worlds should I experience myself? How
-many lives should I live? Did eternal existence mean eternal variety of
-growth, suspension, renewal? Might youth and maturity succeed each other
-exquisitely? Might individual life reproduce itself from seed, to
-flower, to fruit, like a plant, through the cycles? Would childhood or
-age be a matter of personal choice? Would the affectional or the
-intellectual temperaments at will succeed each other? Might one try the
-domestic or the public career in different existences? Try the bliss of
-love in one age, the culture of solitude in another? Be oneself yet be
-all selves? Experience all glories, all discipline, all knowledge, all
-hope? Know the ecstasy of assured union with the one creature chosen out
-of time and Eternity to complement the soul? And yet forever pursue the
-unattainable with the rapture and the reverence of newly-awakened and
-still ungratified feeling?
-
-Ah me! was it possible to feel desolate even in Heaven?
-
-I think it may be, because I had been much occupied with thoughts like
-these; or it may be that, since my dear mother’s coming, I had been,
-naturally, thrown more by myself in my desire to leave those two
-uninterrupted in their first reunion--but I must admit that I had lonely
-moments, when I realized that Heaven had yet failed to provide me with a
-home of my own, and that the most loving filial position could not
-satisfy the nature of a mature man or woman in any world. I must admit
-that I began to be again subject to retrospects and sadnesses which had
-been well brushed away from my heart since my advent to this place. I
-must admit that in experiencing the immortality of being, I found that I
-experienced no less the immortality of love.
-
-Had I to meet that old conflict _here_? I never asked for everlasting
-life. Will He impose it, and not free me from _that_? God forgive me!
-Have I evil in my heart still? Can one sin in Heaven? Nay, be merciful,
-be merciful! I will be patient. I will have trust. But the old nerves
-are not dead. The old ache has survived the grave.
-
-Why was this permitted, if without a cure? Why had death no power to
-call decay upon that for which eternal life seemed to have provided no
-health? It had seemed to me, so far as I could observe the heavenly
-society, that only the fortunate affections of preëxistence survived.
-The unhappy, as well as the imperfect, were outlived and replaced.
-Mysteries had presented themselves here, which I was not yet wise enough
-to clear up. I saw, however, that a great ideal was one thing which
-never died. The attempt to realize it often involved effects which
-seemed hardly less than miraculous.
-
-But for myself, events had brought no solution of the problems of my
-past; and with the tenacity of a constant nature I was unable to see any
-for the future.
-
-I mused one evening, alone with these long thoughts. I was strolling
-upon a wide, bright field. Behind me lay the city, glittering and glad.
-Beyond, I saw the little sea which I had crossed. The familiar outline
-of the hills uprose behind. All Heaven seemed heavenly. I heard distant
-merry voices and music. Listening closely, I found that the Wedding
-March that had stirred so many human heart-beats was perfectly performed
-somewhere across the water, and that the wind bore the sounds towards
-me. I then remembered to have heard it said that Mendelssohn was himself
-a guest of some distinguished person in an adjacent town, and that
-certain music of his was to be given for the entertainment of a group of
-people who had been deaf-mutes in the lower life.
-
-As the immortal power of the old music filled the air, I stayed my steps
-to listen. The better to do this, I covered my eyes with my hands, and
-so stood blindfold and alone in the midst of the wide field.
-
-The passion of earth and the purity of Heaven--the passion of Heaven and
-the deferred hope of earth--what loss and what possession were in the
-throbbing strains!
-
-As never on earth, they called the glad to rapture. As never on earth,
-they stirred the sad to silence. Where, before, had soul or sense been
-called by such a clarion? What music was, we used to dream. What it is,
-we dare, at last, to know.
-
-And yet--I would have been spared this if I could, I think, just now.
-Give me a moment’s grace. I would draw breath, and so move on again, and
-turn me to my next duty quietly, since even Heaven denies me, after all.
-
-I would--what would I? Where am I? Who spoke, or stirred? WHO called me
-by a name unheard by me of any living lip for almost twenty years?
-
-In a transport of something not unlike terror, I could not remove my
-hands from my eyes, but still stood, blinded and dumb, in the middle of
-the shining field. Beneath my clasped fingers, I caught the radiance of
-the edges of the blades of grass that the low breeze swept against my
-garment’s hem; and strangely in that strange moment, there came to me,
-for the only articulate thought I could command, these two lines of an
-old hymn:
-
-“Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
-Stand dressed in living green.”
-
-“Take down your hands,” a voice said quietly. “Do not start or fear. It
-is the most natural thing in the world that I should find you. Be calm.
-Take courage. Look at me.”
-
-Obeying, as the tide obeys the moon, I gathered heart, and so, lifting
-my eyes, I saw him whom I remembered standing close beside me. We two
-were alone in the wide, bright field. All Heaven seemed to have
-withdrawn to leave us to ourselves for this one moment.
-
-I had known that I might have loved him, all my life. I had never loved
-any other man. I had not seen him for almost twenty years. As our eyes
-met, our souls challenged one another in silence, and in strength. I was
-the first to speak:
-
-“_Where is she?_”
-
-“Not with me.”
-
-“When did you die?”
-
-“Years ago.”
-
-“I had lost all trace of you.”
-
-“It was better so, for all concerned.”
-
-“Is she--is she”--
-
-“She is on earth, and of it; she has found comfort long since; another
-fills my place. I do not grieve to yield it. Come!”
-
-“But I have thought--for all these years--it was not right--I put the
-thought away--I do not understand”--
-
-“Oh, come! I, too, have waited twenty years.”
-
-“But is there no reason--no barrier--are you sure? God help me! You have
-turned Heaven into Hell for me, if this is not right.”
-
-“Did I ever ask you to give me one pitying thought that was not right?”
-
-“Never, God knows. Never. You helped me to be right, to be noble. You
-were the noblest man I ever knew. I was a better woman for having known
-you, though we parted--as we did.”
-
-“Then do you trust me? Come!”
-
-“I trust you as I do the angels of God.”
-
-“And I love you as His angels may. Come!”
-
-“For how long--am I to come?”
-
-“Are we not in Eternity? I claim you as I have loved you, without limit
-and without end. Soul of my immortal soul! Life of my eternal life!--Ah,
-come.”
-
-
-
-
-XV.
-
-
-And yet so subtle is the connection in the eternal life between the
-soul’s best moments and the Source of them, that I felt unready for my
-joy until it had His blessing whose Love was the sun of all love, and
-whose approval was sweeter than all happiness.
-
-Now, it was a part of that beautiful order of Heaven, which we ceased to
-call accident, that while I had this wish upon my lips, we saw Him
-coming to us, where we still stood alone together in the open field.
-
-We did not hasten to meet Him, but remained as we were until He reached
-our side; and then we sank upon our knees before Him, silently. God
-knows what gain we had for the life that we had lost below. The pure
-eyes of the Master sought us with a benignity from which we thanked the
-Infinite Mercy that our own had not need to droop ashamed. What weak,
-earthly comfort could have been worth the loss of a moment such as this?
-He blesses us. With His sacred hands He blesses us, and by His blessing
-lifts our human love into so divine a thing that this seems the only
-life in which it could have breathed.
-
- * * * * *
-
-By-and-by, when our Lord has left us, we join hands like children, and
-walk quietly through the dazzling air, across the field, and up the
-hill, and up the road, and home. I seek my mother, trembling, and clasp
-her, sinking on my knees, until I hide my face upon her lap. Her hands
-stray across my hair and cheek.
-
-“What is the matter, Mary?--_dear_ Mary!”
-
-“Oh, Mother, I have Heaven in my heart at last!”
-
-“Tell me all about it, my poor child. Hush! There, there! my dear!”
-
-“_Your poor child?_ ... Mother! What _can_ you mean?”--
-
- * * * * *
-
-What can she mean, indeed? I turn and gaze into her eyes. My face was
-hidden in her lap. Her hands stray across my hair and cheek.
-
-“_What is the matter, Mary?--dear Mary!_”
-
-“_Oh, Mother, I have Heaven in my heart at last!_”
-
-“_Tell me all about it, my poor child. Hush! There, there! my dear!_”
-
-“_Your poor child? Mother!_ _What_ CAN _this mean_?”
-
- * * * * *
-
-She broods and blesses me, she calms and gathers me. With a mighty cry,
-I fling myself against her heart, and sob my soul out, there.
-
-“You are better, child,” she says. “Be quiet. You will live.”
-
-Upon the edge of the sick-bed, sitting strained and weary, she leans to
-comfort me. The night-lamp burns dimly on the floor behind the door. The
-great red chair stands with my white woollen wrapper thrown across the
-arm. In the window the magenta geranium droops freezing. Mignonette is
-on the table, and its breath pervades the air. Upon the wall, the cross,
-the Christ, and the picture of my father look down.
-
-The doctor is in the room; I hear him say that he shall change the
-medicine, and some one, I do not notice who, whispers that it is thirty
-hours since the stupor, from which I have aroused, began. Alice comes
-in, and Tom, I see, has taken Mother’s place, and holds me--dear
-Tom!--and asks me if I suffer, and why I look so disappointed.
-
-Without, in the frosty morning, the factory-bells are calling the poor
-girls to their work. The shutter is ajar, and through the crack I see
-the winter day dawn on the world.
-
- * * * * *
-
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beyond the Gates, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
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-Title: Beyond the Gates
-
-Author: Elizabeth Stuart Phelps
-
-Release Date: January 27, 2017 [EBook #54060]
-
-Language: English
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-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND THE GATES ***
-
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-
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-Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
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-</pre>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="305" height="500" alt="" title="" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a>{1}</span></p>
-
-<h1>
-BEYOND THE GATES.</h1>
-
-<p class="c">
-BY<br />
-<br />
-ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS,<br />
-<br />
-<small>AUTHOR OF “THE GATES AJAR,” “THE STORY OF AVIS,” ETC., ETC.</small><br />
-<br />
-<i>Nineteenth Thousand.</i><br />
-<br />
-<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="85" alt="colophon" title="" />
-<br />
-<br />
-BOSTON:<br />
-HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY<br />
-New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street.<br />
-<span class="eng">The Riverside Press, Cambridge.</span><br />
-1884.<br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a>{2}</span><br />
-<small>Copyright, 1883,<br />
-<span class="smcap">By</span> ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS.<br />
-<br />
-<i>All rights reserved.</i><br />
-<br />
-<i>The Riverside Press, Cambridge:</i><br />
-Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton and Company.<br /></small>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a>{3}</span><br />
-
-<br />
-<i>TO MY BROTHER</i>,<br />
-<br />
-<big>STUART</big>,<br />
-<br />
-<small>WHO PASSED BEYOND, AUGUST 29, 1883.</small><br />
-</p>
-
-<div class="bbox">
-<p class="c">
-<a href="#I"><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> I., </a>
-<a href="#II">II., </a>
-<a href="#III">III., </a>
-<a href="#IV">IV., </a>
-<a href="#V">V., </a>
-<a href="#VI">VI., </a>
-<a href="#VII">VII., </a>
-<a href="#VIII">VIII., </a>
-<a href="#IX">IX., </a>
-<a href="#X">X., </a>
-<a href="#XI">XI., </a>
-<a href="#XII">XII., </a>
-<a href="#XIII">XIII., </a>
-<a href="#XIV">XIV., </a>
-<a href="#XV">XV. </a>
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a>{4}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">It</span> should be said, that, at the time of the departure of him to whose
-memory this little book is consecrated, the work was already in press;
-and that these pages owe more to his criticism than can be acknowledged
-here.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-E. S. P.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="hang"><small>
-<span class="smcap">Gloucester, Massachusetts</span>,<br />
-<i>September, 1883</i>.</small>
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a>{5}</span></p>
-
-<h1>BEYOND THE GATES.</h1>
-
-<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">I had</span> been ill for several weeks with what they called brain fever. The
-events which I am about to relate happened on the fifteenth day of my
-illness.</p>
-
-<p>Before beginning to tell my story, it may not be out of place to say a
-few words about myself, in order to clarify to the imagination of the
-reader points which would otherwise involve numerous explanatory
-digressions, more than commonly misplaced in a tale dealing with the
-materials of this.</p>
-
-<p>I am a woman forty years of age. My father was a clergyman; he had been
-many years dead. I was living, at the time I refer to, in my mother’s
-house in a factory town in Massachusetts. The town need not be more<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a>{6}</span>
-particularly mentioned, nor genuine family names given, for obvious
-reasons. I was the oldest of four children; one of my sisters was
-married, one was at home with us, and there was a boy at college.</p>
-
-<p>I was an unmarried, but not an unhappy woman. I had reached a very busy,
-and sometimes I hoped a not altogether valueless, middle age. I had used
-life and loved it. Beyond the idle impulse of a weary moment, which
-signifies no more than the reflex action of a mental muscle, and which I
-had been in the habit of rating accordingly, I had never wished to die.
-I was well, vigorous, and active. I was not of a dependent or a
-despondent temperament.</p>
-
-<p>I am not writing an autobiography, and these things, not of importance
-in themselves, require only the briefest allusion. They will serve to
-explain the general cast of my life, which in turn may define the
-features of my story.</p>
-
-<p>There are two kinds of solitary: he who is drawn by the inward, and he
-who chooses the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a>{7}</span> outward life. To this latter class I had belonged.
-Circumstances, which it is not necessary to detail here, had thrust me
-into the one as a means of self-preservation from the other, while I was
-yet quite young.</p>
-
-<p>I had been occupied more largely with the experiences of other people
-than with my own. I had been in the habit of being depended upon. It had
-been my great good fortune to be able to spend a part of my time among
-the sick, the miserable, and the poor. It had been, perhaps, my better
-chance to be obliged to balance the emotional perils of such occupations
-by those of a different character. My business was that of a
-school-teacher, but I had traveled somewhat; I had served as a nurse
-during the latter years of the war; in the Sanitary Commission; upon the
-Freedmen’s Bureau; as an officer in a Woman’s Prison, and had done a
-little work for the State Bureau of Labor among the factory operatives
-of our own town. I had therefore, it will be seen, been spared the
-deterioration of a monotonous existence. At the time I was taken ill I
-was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a>{8}</span> managing a private school, rather large for the corps of assistants
-which I could command, and had overworked. I had been at home, thus
-employed, with my mother who needed me, for two years.</p>
-
-<p>It may not be unsuitable, before proceeding with my narrative, to say
-that I had been a believer in the truths of the Christian religion; not,
-however, a devotee. I had not the ecstatic temperament, and was not
-known among my friends for any higher order of piety than that which is
-implied in trying to do one’s duty for Christ’s sake, and saying little
-about it or Him,&mdash;less than I wish I had sometimes. It was natural to me
-to speak in other ways than by words; that does not prove that it was
-best. I had read a little, like all thinking people with any
-intellectual margin to their lives, of the religious controversies of
-the day, and had not been without my share of pressure from the
-fashionable reluctance to believe. Possibly this had affected a
-temperament not too much inclined towards the supernatural, but it had
-never conquered my<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a>{9}</span> faith, which I think had grown to be dearer to me
-because I had not kept it without a fight for it. It certainly had
-become, for this reason, of greater practical value. It certainly had
-become, for this and every reason, the most valuable thing I had, or
-hoped to have. I believed in God and immortality, and in the history of
-Jesus Christ. I respected and practiced prayer, but chiefly decided what
-I ought to do next minute. I loved life and lived it. I neither feared
-death nor thought much about it.</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p>When I had been ill a fortnight, it occurred to me that I was very sick,
-but not that I could possibly die. I suffered a good deal at first;
-after that much less. There was great misery for lack of sleep, and
-intolerable restlessness. The worst, however, was the continuity of
-care. Those who have borne heavy responsibilities for any length of time
-will understand me. The incessant burden pressed on: now a pupil had
-fallen into some disgraceful escapade; now the investments of my
-mother’s, of which I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a>{10}</span> the charge, had failed on the dividends; then
-I had no remittance for the boy at college; then my sister, in a
-heart-breaking emergency, confided to me a peril against which I could
-not lift a finger; the Governor held me responsible for the typhoid
-among the prisoners; I added eternal columns of statistics for the
-Charity Boards, and found forever a mistake in each report; a dying
-soldier called to me in piercing tones for a cup of water; the black
-girl to whom I read the Gospel of John, drowned her baby; I ran six
-looms in the mill for the mother of six children till her seventh should
-be born; I staked the salvation of my soul upon answering the argument
-of Strauss to the satisfaction of an unbelieving friend, and lost my
-wager; I heard my classes in Logic, and was unable to repeat anything
-but the “Walrus and the Carpenter,” for the “Barbara Celarent.”
-Suddenly, one day, in the thick of this brain-battle, I slipped upon a
-pause, in which I distinctly heard a low voice say,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“But Thine eternal thoughts move on,<br /></span>
-<span class="i1">Thine undisturbed affairs.”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a>{11}</span></p>
-
-<p class="nind">It was my mother’s voice. I perceived then that she sat at my bedside in
-the red easy-chair, repeating hymns, poor soul! in the hope of calming
-me.</p>
-
-<p>I put out my hand and patted her arm, but it did not occur to me to
-speak till I saw that there were masses of pansies and some mignonette
-upon the table, and I asked who sent them, and she told me the
-school-girls had kept them fresh there every day since I was taken ill.
-I felt some pleasure that they should take the trouble to select the
-flowers I preferred. Then I asked her where the jelly came from, and the
-grapes, and about other trifles that I saw, such as accumulate in any
-sick-room. Then she gave me the names of different friends and neighbors
-who had been so good as to remember me. Chiefly I was touched by the
-sight of a straggly magenta geranium which I noticed growing in a pot by
-the window, and which a poor woman from the mills had brought the day
-before. I asked my mother if there were any letters, and she said, many,
-but that I must not hear them<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a>{12}</span> read; she spoke of some from the prison.
-The door-bell often rang softly, and I asked why it was muffled, and who
-called. Alice had come in, and said something in an undertone to mother
-about the Grand Army and resolutions and sympathy; and she used the
-names of different people I had almost forgotten, and this confused me.
-They stopped talking, and I became at once very ill again.</p>
-
-<p>The next point which I recall is turning to see that the doctor was in
-the room. I was in great suffering, and he gave me a few spoonfuls of
-something which he said would secure sleep. I desired to ask him what it
-was, as I objected to narcotics, and preferred to bear whatever was
-before me with the eyes of my mind open, but as soon as I tried to speak
-I forgot what I wished to say.</p>
-
-<p>I do not know how long it was before the truth approached me, but it was
-towards evening of that day, the fifteenth, as I say, of my illness,
-that I said aloud:</p>
-
-<p>“Mother, Tom is in the room. Why has Tom come home?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a>{13}</span></p>
-
-<p>Tom was my little brother at college. He came towards the bed as I
-spoke. He had his hat in his hand, and he put it up before his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Mother!” I repeated louder than before. “<i>Why have you sent for Tom?</i>”</p>
-
-<p>But Mother did not answer me. She leaned over me. I saw her looking
-down. She had the look that she had when my father died; though I was so
-young when that happened, I had never forgotten my mother’s look; and I
-had never seen it since, from that day until this hour.</p>
-
-<p>“Mother! am I so sick as <i>that</i>? <span class="smcap">Mother!</span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear!” cried Mother. “Oh my dear, my dear!” ...</p>
-
-<p>So after that I understood. I was greatly startled that they should feel
-me to be dangerously ill; but I was not alarmed.</p>
-
-<p>“It is nonsense,” I said, after I had thought about it a little while.
-“Dr. Shadow was always a croaker. I have no idea of dying! I have nursed
-too many sicker people than I am. I don’t <i>intend</i> to die! I am able to
-sit up now, if I want to. Let me try.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a>{14}</span></p>
-
-<p>“I’ll hold you,” said Tom, softly enough. This pleased me. He lifted all
-the pillows, and held me straight out upon his mighty arms. Tom was a
-great athlete&mdash;took the prizes at the gymnasium. No weaker man could
-have supported me for fifteen minutes in the strained position by which
-he found that he could give me comfort and so gratify my whim. Tom held
-me a long time; I think it must have been an hour; but I began to suffer
-again, and could not judge of time. I wondered how that big boy got such
-infinite tenderness into those iron muscles. I felt a great respect for
-human flesh and bone and blood, and for the power and preciousness of
-the living human body. It seemed much more real to me, then, than the
-spirit. It seemed an absurdity that any one should suppose that I was in
-danger of being done with life. I said:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to live, Tom! Tell Mother I have no idea of dying. I prefer
-to live.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom nodded; he did not speak; I felt a hot dash of tears on my face,
-which surprised me; I had not seen Tom cry since he lost the football
-match when he was eleven years old.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a>{15}</span></p>
-
-<p>They gave me something more out of the spoon, again, I think, at that
-moment, and I felt better. I said to Tom:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“You see!” and bade them send Mother to lie down, and asked Alice to
-make her beef-tea, and to be sure and make it as we did in the army. I
-do not remember saying anything more after this. I certainly did not
-suffer any more. I felt quiet and assured. Nothing farther troubled me.
-The room became so still that I thought they must all have gone away,
-and left me with the nurse, and that she, finding me so well, had
-herself fallen asleep. This rested me&mdash;to feel that I was no longer
-causing them pain&mdash;more than anything could have done; and I began to
-think the best thing I could do would be to take a nap myself.</p>
-
-<p>With this conviction quietly in mind I turned over, with my face towards
-the wall, to go to sleep. I grew calmer, and yet more calm, as I lay
-there. There was a cross of Swiss carving on the wall, hanging over a
-picture of my father. Leonardo’s Christ&mdash;the one from the drawing for
-the Last Supper, that we all know<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a>{16}</span>&mdash;hung above both these. Owing to my
-position, I could not see the other pictures in the room, which was
-large, and filled with little things, the gifts of those who had been
-kind to me in a life of many busy years. Only these three objects&mdash;the
-cross, the Christ, and my father&mdash;came within range of my eyes as the
-power of sleep advanced. The room was darkened, as it had been since I
-became so ill, so that I was not sure whether it were night or day. The
-clock was striking. I think it struck two; and I perceived the odor of
-the mignonette. I think it was the last thing I noticed before going to
-sleep, and I remembered, as I did so, the theories which gave to the
-sense of smell greater significance than any of the rest; and remembered
-to have read that it was either the last or the first to give way in the
-dying. (I could not recall, in my confused condition, which.) I thought
-of this with pleased and idle interest; but did not associate the
-thought with the alarm felt by my friends about my condition.</p>
-
-<p>I could have slept but a short time when I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a>{17}</span> woke, feeling much easier.
-The cross, the Christ, and the picture of my father looked at me calmly
-from the wall on which the sick-lamp cast a steady, soft light. Then I
-remembered that it was night, of course, and felt chagrined that I could
-have been confused on this point.</p>
-
-<p>The room seemed close to me, and I turned over to ask for more air.</p>
-
-<p>As I did so, I saw some one sitting in the cushioned window-seat by the
-open window&mdash;the eastern window. No one had occupied this seat, on
-account of the draught and chill, since my illness. As I looked
-steadily, I saw that the person who sat there was my father.</p>
-
-<p>His face was turned away, but his figure and the contour of his noble
-head were not to be mistaken. Although I was a mere girl when he died, I
-felt no hesitation about this. I knew at once, and beyond all doubt,
-that it was he. I experienced pleasure, but little, if any, surprise.</p>
-
-<p>As I lay there looking at him, he turned and regarded me. His deep eyes
-glowed with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a>{18}</span> soft, calm light; but yet, I know not why, they expressed
-more love than I had ever seen in them before. He used to love us
-nervously and passionately. He had now the look of one whose whole
-nature is saturated with rest, and to whom the fitfulness, distrust, or
-distress of intense feeling acting upon a super-sensitive organization,
-were impossible. As he looked towards me, he smiled. He had one of the
-sweetest smiles that ever illuminated a mortal face.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, Father!” I said aloud. He nodded encouragingly, but did not speak.</p>
-
-<p>“Father?” I repeated, “Father, is this <i>you</i>?” He laughed a little,
-softly, putting up one hand and tossing his hair off from his
-forehead&mdash;an old way of his.</p>
-
-<p>“What are you here for?” I asked again. “Did Mother send for <i>you</i>,
-too?”</p>
-
-<p>When I had said this, I felt confused and troubled; for though I did not
-remember that he was dead&mdash;I mean I did not put the thought in any such
-form to myself, or use that word or any of its synonyms&mdash;yet I
-remembered<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a>{19}</span> that he had been absent from our family circle for a good
-while, and that if Mother had sent for him because I had a brain fever,
-it would have been for some reason not according to her habit.</p>
-
-<p>“It is strange,” I said. “It isn’t like her. I don’t understand the
-thing at all.”</p>
-
-<p>Now, as I continued to look at the corner of the room where my father
-was sitting, I saw that he had risen from the cushioned window-seat, and
-taken a step or two towards me. He stopped, however, and stood quite
-still, and looked at me most lovingly and longingly; and <i>then</i> it was
-that he held out his arms to me.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” cried I, “I wish I could come! But you don’t know how sick I am. I
-have not walked a step for over two weeks.”</p>
-
-<p>He did not speak even yet, but still held out his arms with that look of
-unutterably restful love. I felt the elemental tie between parent and
-child draw me. It seemed to me as if I had reached the foundation of all
-human feeling; as if I had gone down&mdash;how shall I say it?&mdash;below the
-depths of all other love.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a>{20}</span> I had always known I loved him, but not like
-that. I was greatly moved.</p>
-
-<p>“But you don’t understand me,” I repeated with some agitation. “I
-<i>can’t</i> walk.” I thought it very strange that he did not, in
-consideration of my feebleness, come to me.</p>
-
-<p>Then for the first time he spoke.</p>
-
-<p>“Come,” he said gently. His voice sounded quite natural; I only noticed
-that he spoke under his breath, as if not to awake the nurse, or any
-person who was in the room.</p>
-
-<p>At this, I moved, and sat up on the edge of my bed; although I did so
-easily enough, I lost courage at that point. It seemed impossible to go
-farther. I felt a little chilly, and remembered, too, that I was not
-dressed. A warm white woolen wrapper of my own, and my slippers, were
-within reach, by the head of the bed; Alice wore them when she watched
-with me. I put these things on, and then paused, expecting to be
-overcome with exhaustion after the effort. To my surprise, I did not
-feel tired at all. I believe, rather, I felt a little stronger. As I put
-the clothes on, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a>{21}</span> noticed the magenta geranium across the room. These,
-I think, were the only things which attracted my attention.</p>
-
-<p>“Come here to me,” repeated Father; he spoke more decidedly, this time
-with a touch of authority. I remembered hearing him speak just so when
-Tom was learning to walk; he began by saying, “Come, sonny boy!” but
-when the baby played the coward, he said, “My son, come here!”</p>
-
-<p>As if I had been a baby, I obeyed. I put my feet to the floor, and found
-that I stood strongly. I experienced a slight giddiness for a moment,
-but when this passed, my head felt clearer than before. I walked
-steadily out into the middle of the room. Each step was firmer than the
-other. As I advanced, he came to meet me. My heart throbbed. I thought I
-should have fallen, not from weakness, but from joy.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t be afraid,” he said encouragingly; “that is right. You are doing
-finely. Only a few steps more. There!”</p>
-
-<p>It was done. I had crossed the distance<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a>{22}</span> which separated us, and my dear
-Father, after all those years, took me, as he used to do, into his
-arms....</p>
-
-<p>He was the first to speak, and he said:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“You poor little girl!&mdash;But it is over now.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, it is over now,” I answered. I thought he referred to the
-difficult walk across the room, and to my long illness, now so happily
-at an end. He smiled and patted me on the cheek, but made no other
-answer.</p>
-
-<p>“I must tell Mother that you are here,” I said presently. I had not
-looked behind me or about me. Since the first sight of my father sitting
-in the window, I had not observed any other person, and could not have
-told who was in the room.</p>
-
-<p>“Not yet,” my father said. “We may not speak to her at present. I think
-we had better go.”</p>
-
-<p>I lifted my face to say, “Go where?” but my lips did not form the
-question. It was just as it used to be when he came from the study and
-held out his hand, and said “Come,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a>{23}</span> and I went anywhere with him,
-neither asking, nor caring, so long as it was with him; and then he used
-to play or walk with me, and I forgot the whole world besides. I put my
-hand in his without a question, and we moved towards the door.</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose <i>you</i> had better go this way,” he said, with a slight
-hesitation, as we passed out and across the hall.</p>
-
-<p>“Any way you like best,” I said joyfully. He smiled, and still keeping
-my hand, led me down the stairs. As we went down, I heard the little
-Swiss clock, above in my room, strike the half hour after two.</p>
-
-<p>I noticed everything in the hall as we descended; it was as if my
-vision, as well as the muscles of motion, grew stronger with each
-moment. I saw the stair-carpeting with its faded Brussels pattern, once
-rich, and remembered counting the red roses on it the night I went up
-with the fever on me; reeling and half delirious, wondering how I could
-possibly afford to be sick. I saw the hat-tree with Tom’s coat, and
-Alice’s blue Shetland shawl across the old<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a>{24}</span> hair-cloth sofa. As we
-opened the door, I saw the muffled bell. I stood for a moment upon the
-threshold of my old home, not afraid but perplexed.</p>
-
-<p>My father seemed to understand my thoughts perfectly, though I had not
-spoken, and he paused for my reluctant mood. I thought of all the years
-I had spent there. I thought of my childhood and girlhood; of the
-tempestuous periods of life which that quiet roof had hidden; of the
-calms upon which it had brooded. I thought of sorrows that I had
-forgotten, and those which I had prayed in vain to forget. I thought of
-temptations and of mistakes and of sins, from which I had fled back
-asking these four walls to shelter me. I thought of the comfort and
-blessedness that I had never failed to find in the old house. I shrank
-from leaving it. It seemed like leaving my body.</p>
-
-<p>When the door had been opened, the night air rushed in. I could see the
-stars, and knew, rather than felt, that it was cold. As we stood
-waiting, an icicle dropped from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a>{25}</span> eaves, and fell, breaking into a
-dozen diamond flashes at our feet. Beyond, it was dark.</p>
-
-<p>“It seems to me a great exposure,” I said reluctantly, “to be taken out
-into a winter night,&mdash;at such an hour, too! I have been so very sick.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are you cold?” asked my father gently. After some thought I said:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>For I was not cold. For the first time I wondered why.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you tired?”</p>
-
-<p>No, I was not tired.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you afraid?”</p>
-
-<p>“A little, I think, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Would you like to go back, Molly, and rest awhile?”</p>
-
-<p>“If you please, Papa.”</p>
-
-<p>The old baby-word came instinctively in answer to the baby-name. He led
-me like a child, and like a child I submitted. It was like him to be so
-thoughtful of my weakness. My dear father was always one of those rare
-men who think of little things largely, and so<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a>{26}</span> bring, especially into
-the lives of women, the daily comfort which makes the infinite
-preciousness of life.</p>
-
-<p>We went into the parlor and sat down. It was warm there and pleasant.
-The furnace was well on, and embers still in the grate. The lamps were
-not lighted, yet the room was not dark. I enjoyed being down there again
-after all those weeks up-stairs, and was happy in looking at the
-familiar things, the afghan on the sofa, and the magazines on the table,
-uncut because of my illness; Mother’s work-basket, and Alice’s music
-folded away.</p>
-
-<p>“It was always a dear old room,” said Father, seating himself in his own
-chair, which we had kept for twenty years in its old place. He put his
-head back, and gazed peacefully about.</p>
-
-<p>When I felt rested, and better, I asked him if we should start now.</p>
-
-<p>“Just as you please,” he said quietly. “There is no hurry. We are never
-hurried.”</p>
-
-<p>“If we have anything to do,” I said, “I had rather do it now I think.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a>{27}</span></p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” said Father, “that is like you.” He rose and held out his
-hand again. I took it once more, and once more we went out to the
-threshold of our old home. This time I felt more confidence, but when
-the night air swept in, I could not help shrinking a little in spite of
-myself, and showing the agitation which overtook me.</p>
-
-<p>“Father!” I cried, “Father! <i>where</i> are we going?”</p>
-
-<p>My father turned at this, and looked at me solemnly. His face seemed to
-shine and glow. He looked from what I felt was a great height. He
-said:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Are you really afraid, Mary, to go <i>any</i>where with me?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, no!” I protested in a passion of regret and trust, “my dear father!
-I would go any where in earth or Heaven with you!”</p>
-
-<p>“Then come,” he said softly.</p>
-
-<p>I clasped both hands, interlocking them through his arm, and we shut the
-door and went down the steps together and out into the winter dawn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a>{28}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was neither dark nor day; and as we stepped into the village streets
-the confused light trembled about us delicately. The stars were still
-shining. Snow was on the ground; and I think it had freshly fallen in
-the night, for I noticed that the way before us lay quite white and
-untrodden. I looked back over my shoulders as my father closed the gate,
-which he did without noise. I meant to take a gaze at the old house,
-from which, with a thrill at the heart, I began to feel that I was
-parting under strange and solemn conditions. But when I glanced up the
-path which we had taken, my attention was directed altogether from the
-house, and from the slight sadness of the thought I had about it.</p>
-
-<p>The circumstance which arrested me was this. Neither my father’s foot
-nor mine had left any print upon the walk. From the front<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a>{29}</span> door to the
-street, the fine fair snow lay unbroken; it stirred, and rose in
-restless flakes like winged creatures under the gentle wind, flew a
-little way, and fell again, covering the surface of the long white path
-with a foam so light, it seemed as if thought itself could not have
-passed upon it without impression. I can hardly say why I did not call
-my father’s attention to this fact.</p>
-
-<p>As we walked down the road the dawn began to deepen. The stars paled
-slowly. The intense blue-black and purple of the night sky gave way to
-the warm grays that precede sunrise in our climate. I saw that the gold
-and the rose were coming. It promised to be a mild morning, warmer than
-for several days. The deadly chill was out of the air. The snow yielded
-on the outlines of the drifts, and relaxed as one looked at it, as snow
-does before melting, and the icicles had an air of expectation, as if
-they hastened to surrender to the annunciation of a warm and impatient
-winter’s day.</p>
-
-<p>“It is going to thaw,” I said aloud.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a>{30}</span></p>
-
-<p>“It seems so to you,” replied my father, vaguely.</p>
-
-<p>“But at least it is very pleasant,” I insisted.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m glad you find it so,” he said; “I should have been disappointed if
-it had struck you as cold, or&mdash;gloomy&mdash;in any way.”</p>
-
-<p>It was still so early that all the village was asleep. The blinds and
-curtains of the houses were drawn and the doors yet locked. None of our
-neighbors were astir, nor were there any signs of traffic yet in the
-little shops. The great factory-bell, which woke the operatives at
-half-past four, had rung, but this was the only evidence as yet of human
-life or motion. It did not occur to me, till afterwards, to wonder at
-the inconsistency between the hour struck by my own Swiss clock and the
-factory time.</p>
-
-<p>I was more interested in another matter which just then presented itself
-to me.</p>
-
-<p>The village, as I say, was still asleep. Once I heard the distant hoofs
-of a horse sent clattering after the doctor, and ridden by a messenger
-from a household in mortal need.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a>{31}</span> Up to this time we two had seemed to
-be the only watchers in all the world.</p>
-
-<p>Now, as I turned to see if I could discover whose horse it was and so
-who was in emergency, I observed suddenly that the sidewalk was full of
-people. I say full of people; I mean that there was a group behind us; a
-few, also, before us; some, too, were crossing the street. They
-conversed together standing at the corners, or walked in twos, as father
-and I were doing; or strolled, some of them alone. Some of them seemed
-to have immediate business and to be in haste; others sauntered as he
-who has no occupation. Some talked and gesticulated earnestly, or
-laughed loudly. Others went with a thoughtful manner, speaking not at
-all.</p>
-
-<p>As I watched them I began to recognize here and there, a man, or a
-woman;&mdash;there were more men than women among them, and there were no
-children.</p>
-
-<p>A few of these people, I soon saw, were old neighbors of ours; some I
-had known when I was a child, and had forgotten till this moment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a>{32}</span>
-Several of them bowed to us as we passed along. One man stopped and
-waited for us, and spoke to Father, who shook hands with him;
-intimating, however, pleasantly enough, that he was in haste, and must
-be excused for passing on.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes, I see,” said the man with a glance at me. I then distinctly
-saw this person’s face, and knew him beyond a doubt, for an old
-neighbor, a certain Mr. Snarl, a miserly, sanctimonious man&mdash;I had never
-liked him.</p>
-
-<p>“Father!” I stopped short. “Father, that man is dead. He has been dead
-for twenty years!”</p>
-
-<p>Now, at this, I began to tremble; yet not from fear, I think; from
-amazement, rather, and the great confusion which I felt.</p>
-
-<p>“And there”&mdash;I pointed to a pale young man who had been thrown from his
-carriage (it was said because he was in no condition to drive)&mdash;“there
-is Bobby Bend. He died last winter.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said Father quietly, “and what then?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a>{33}</span></p>
-
-<p>“And over there&mdash;why, certainly that is Mrs. Mersey!”</p>
-
-<p>I had known Mrs. Mersey for a lovely woman. She died of a fever
-contracted in the care of a poor, neglected creature. I saw her at this
-moment across and far down the street, coming from a house where there
-was trouble. She came with a swift, elastic motion, unlike that of any
-of the others who were about us; the difference was marked, and yet one
-which I should have found it at that time impossible to describe.
-Perhaps I might have said that she hovered above rather than touched the
-earth; but this would not have defined the distinction. As I looked
-after her she disappeared; in what direction I could not tell.</p>
-
-<p>“So they <i>are</i> dead people,” I said, with a sort of triumph; almost as
-if I had dared my father to deny it. He smiled.</p>
-
-<p>“Father, I begin to be perplexed. I have heard of these hallucinations,
-of course, and read the authenticated stories, but I never supposed I
-could be a subject of such illusions. It must be because I have been so
-sick.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a>{34}</span></p>
-
-<p>“Partly because you have been so sick&mdash;yes,” said Father drawing down
-the corners of his mouth, in that way he had when he was amused. I went
-on to tell him that it seemed natural to see him, but that I was
-surprised to meet those others who had left us, and that I did not find
-it altogether agreeable.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you afraid?” he asked me, as he had before. No, I could not say
-that I was afraid.</p>
-
-<p>“Then hasten on,” he said in a different tone, “our business is not with
-them, at present. See! we have already left them behind.”</p>
-
-<p>And, indeed, when I glanced back, I saw that we had. We, too, were now
-traveling alone together, and at a much faster speed, towards the
-outskirts of the town. We were moving eastward. Before us the splendid
-day was coming up. The sky was unfolding, shade above shade, paler at
-the edge, and glowing at the heart, like the petals of a great rose.</p>
-
-<p>The snow was melting on the moors towards which we bent our steps; the
-water stood here and there in pools, and glistened. A little winter
-bird&mdash;some chickadee or <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a>{35}</span>wood-pecker&mdash;was bathing in one of these pools;
-his tiny brown body glowed in the brightness, flashing to and fro. He
-chirped and twittered and seemed bursting with joy. As we approached the
-moors, the stalks of the sumachs, the mulberries, the golden-rod, and
-asters, all the wayside weeds and the brown things that we never know
-and never love till winter, rose beautiful from the snow; the icicles
-melted and dripped from them; the dead-gold-colored leaves of the low
-oaks rustled; at a distance we heard the sweet sough from a grove of
-pines; behind us the morning bells of the village broke into bubbles of
-cheerful sound. As we walked on together I felt myself become stronger
-at every step; my heart grew light.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a good world,” I cried, “it is a good world!”</p>
-
-<p>“So it is,” said my father heartily, “and yet&mdash;my dear daughter”&mdash;He
-hesitated; so long that I looked into his face earnestly, and then I saw
-that a strange gravity had settled upon it. It was not like any look
-that I had ever seen there before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a>{36}</span></p>
-
-<p>“I have better things to show you,” he said gently.</p>
-
-<p>“I do not understand you, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“We have only begun our journey, Mary; and&mdash;if you do not
-understand&mdash;but I thought you would have done so by this time&mdash;I wonder
-if she <i>is</i> going to be frightened after all!”</p>
-
-<p>We were now well out upon the moors, alone together, on the side of the
-hill. The town looked far behind us and insignificant. The earth
-dwindled and the sky grew, as we looked from one to the other. It seemed
-to me that I had never before noticed how small a portion of our range
-of vision is filled by the surface of earth, and what occupies it; and
-how immense the proportion of the heavens. As we stood there, it seemed
-to overwhelm us.</p>
-
-<p>“Rise,” said my father in a voice of solemn authority, “rise quickly!”</p>
-
-<p>I struggled at his words, for he seemed to slip from me, and I feared to
-lose him. I struggled and struck out into the air; I felt a wild
-excitement, like one plunged into a deep<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a>{37}</span> sea, and desperately swimming,
-as animals do, and a few men, from blind instinct, having never learned.
-My father spoke encouragingly, and with tenderness. He never once let go
-my hand. I felt myself, beyond all doubt, soaring&mdash;slowly and
-weakly&mdash;but surely ascending above the solid ground.</p>
-
-<p>“See! there is nothing to fear,” he said from time to time. I did not
-answer. My heart beat fast. I exerted all my strength and took a
-stronger stroke. I felt that I gained upon myself. I closed my eyes,
-looking neither above nor below.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly, as gently as the opening of a water lily, and yet as swiftly
-as the cleaving of the lightning, there came to me a thought which made
-my brain whirl, and I cried aloud:</p>
-
-<p>“Father, <i>am I</i> <small>DEAD</small>?” My hands slipped&mdash;I grew dizzy&mdash;wavered&mdash;and
-fluttered. I was sure that I should fall. At that instant I was caught
-with the iron of tenderness and held, like a very young child, in my
-father’s arms. He said nothing, only patted me on the cheek, as we
-ascended, he seeing, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a>{38}</span> blind; he strength, and I weakness; he who
-knew all, and I who knew nothing, silently with the rising sun athwart
-the rose-lit air.</p>
-
-<p>I was awed, more than there are words to say; but I felt no more fear
-than I used to do when he carried me on his shoulder up the garden walk,
-after it grew dark, when I was tired out with play.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a>{39}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">I use</span> the words “ascension” and “arising” in the superficial sense of
-earthly imagery. Of course, carefully speaking, there can be no up or
-down to the motion of beings detached from a revolving globe, and set
-adrift in space. I thought of this in the first moment, with the
-keenness which distinguishes between knowledge and experience. I knew
-when our journey came to an end, by the gradual cessation of our rapid
-motion; but at first I did not incline to investigate beyond this fact.
-Whether I was only tired, or giddy, or whether a little of what we used
-to call faintness overcame me, I can hardly say. If this were so, it was
-rather a spiritual than a physical disability; it was a faintness of the
-soul. Now I found this more energetic than the bodily sensations I had
-known. I scarcely sought to wrestle against it, but lay quite still,
-where we had come to a halt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a>{40}</span></p>
-
-<p>I wish to say here, that if you ask me where this was, I must answer
-that I do not know. I must say distinctly that, though after the act of
-dying I departed from the surface of the earth, and reached the confines
-of a different locality, I cannot yet instruct another <i>where</i> this
-place may be.</p>
-
-<p>My impression that it was not a vast distance (measured, I mean, by an
-astronomical scale) from our globe, is a strong one, which, however, I
-cannot satisfactorily defend. There seemed to be flowers about me; I
-wondered what they were, but lay with my face hidden in my arm, not
-caring yet to look about. I thought of that old-fashioned allegory
-called “The Distant Hills,” where the good girl, when she died, sank
-upon a bed of violets; but the bad girl slipped upon rolling stones
-beneath a tottering ruin. This trifling memory occupied me for some
-moments; yet it had so great significance to me, that I recall it, even
-now, with pungent gratitude.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall remember what I have read.” This was my first thought in the
-new state<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a>{41}</span> to which I had come. Minna was the name of the girl in the
-allegory. The illustrations were very poor, but had that uncanny
-fascination which haunts allegorical pictures&mdash;often the more powerful
-because of their rudeness.</p>
-
-<p>As I lay there, still not caring, or even not daring to look up, the
-fact that I was crushing flowers beneath me became more apparent; a
-delicate perfume arose and surrounded me; it was like and yet unlike any
-that I had ever known; its familiarity entranced, its novelty allured
-me. Suddenly I perceived what it was&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Mignonette!”</p>
-
-<p>I laughed at my own dullness in detecting it, and could not help
-wondering whether it were accident or design that had given me for my
-first experience in the new life, the gratification of a little personal
-taste like this. For a few moments I yielded to the pure and exquisite
-perfume, which stole into my whole nature, or it seemed to me so then.
-Afterwards I learned how little I knew of my “whole nature” at that
-time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a>{42}</span></p>
-
-<p>Presently I took courage, and lifted my head. I hardly know what I
-expected to see. Visions of the Golden City in the Apocalypse had
-flitted before me. I thought of the River of Death in the “Pilgrim’s
-Progress,” of the last scene in the “Voyage of Life,” of Theremin’s
-“Awakening,” of several famous books and pictures which I had read or
-seen, describing what we call Heaven. These works of the human
-imagination&mdash;stored away perhaps in the frontal lobes of the brain, as
-scientists used to tell us&mdash;had influenced my anticipations more than I
-could have believed possible till that moment.</p>
-
-<p>I was indeed in a beautiful place; but it did not look, in any respect,
-as I had expected. No; I think not in any respect. Many things which
-happened to me later, I can describe more vividly than I can this first
-impression. In one way it was a complex, in another, a marvelously
-simple one. Chiefly, I think I had a consciousness of safety&mdash;infinite
-safety. All my soul drew a long breath&mdash;“Nothing more can happen to me!”
-Yet, at the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a>{43}</span> time, I felt that I was at the outset of all
-experience. It was as if my heart cried aloud, “Where shall I begin?”</p>
-
-<p>I looked about and abroad. My father stood at a little distance from me,
-conversing with some friends. I did not know them. They had great
-brightness and beauty of appearance. So, also, had he. He had altered
-perceptibly since he met me in the lower world, and seemed to glow and
-become absorbent of light from some source yet unseen. This struck me
-forcibly in all the people whom I saw&mdash;there were many of them, going to
-and fro busily&mdash;that they were receptive and reflecting beings. They
-differed greatly in the degree in which they gave this impression; but
-all gave it. Some were quite pale, though pure in color; others glowed
-and shone. Yet when I say color, I use an earthly word, which does not
-express my meaning. It was more the atmosphere or penumbra, in which
-each moved, that I refer to, perhaps, than the tint of their bodies.
-They had bodies, very like such as I was used to. I saw that I myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a>{44}</span>
-was not, or so it appeared, greatly changed. I had form and dress, and I
-moved at will, and experienced sensations of pleasure and, above all, of
-magnificent health. For a while I was absorbed, without investigating
-details, in the mere sense of physical ease and power. I did not wish to
-speak, or to be spoken to, nor even to stir and exercise my splendid
-strength. It was more than enough to feel it, after all those weeks of
-pain. I lay back again upon the mignonette; as I did so, I noticed that
-the flowers where my form had pressed them were not bruised; they had
-sprung erect again; they had not wilted, nor even hung their heads as if
-they were hurt&mdash;I lay back upon, and deep within, the mignonette, and,
-drowned in the delicate odor, gazed about me.</p>
-
-<p>Yes; I was truly in a wonderful place. It was in the country (as we
-should say below), though I saw signs of large centres of life, outlines
-of distant architecture far away. There were hills, and vast distances,
-and vistas of hill tints in the atmosphere. There were forests<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a>{45}</span> of great
-depth. There was an expanse of shining water. There were fields of fine
-extent and color, undulating like green seas. The sun was high&mdash;if it
-were the sun. At least there was great brilliance about me. Flowers must
-have been abundant, for the air was alive with perfumes.</p>
-
-<p>When I have said this, I seem to have said little or nothing. Certain it
-is that these first impressions came to me in broad masses, like the
-sweep of a large brush or blender upon canvas. Of details I received
-few, for a long time. I was overcome with a sense of
-Nature&mdash;freedom&mdash;health&mdash;beauty, as if&mdash;how shall I say it?&mdash;as if for
-the first time I understood what generic terms meant; as if I had
-entered into the secret of all abstract glory; as if what we had known
-as philosophical or as poetical phrases were now become attainable
-facts, each possessing that individual existence in which dreamers upon
-earth dare to believe, and of which no doubter can be taught.</p>
-
-<p>I am afraid I do not express this with anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a>{46}</span> like the simplicity
-with which I felt it; and to describe it with anything resembling the
-power would be impossible.</p>
-
-<p>I felt my smallness and ignorance in view of the wonders which lay
-before me. “I shall have time enough to study them,” I thought, but the
-thought itself thrilled me throughout, and proved far more of an
-excitant than a sedative. I rose slowly, and stood trembling among the
-mignonette. I shielded my eyes with my hand, not from any glare or
-dazzle or strain, but only from the presence and the pressure of beauty,
-and so stood looking off. As I did so, certain words came to mind with
-the haunting voice of a broken quotation:</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“<i>Neither have entered into the heart of man</i>”&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“<i>The things which God hath prepared</i>”&mdash;<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>It was a relief to me to see my father coming towards me at that moment,
-for I had, perhaps, undergone as much keen emotion as one well bears,
-compressed into a short space of time. He met me smiling.</p>
-
-<p>“And how is it, Mary?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a>{47}</span></p>
-
-<p>“My first Bible verse has just occurred to me, Father&mdash;the first
-religious thought I’ve had in Heaven yet!” I tried to speak lightly,
-feeling too deeply for endurance. I repeated the words to him, for he
-asked me what they were which had come to me.</p>
-
-<p>“That is a pleasant experience,” he said quietly. “It differs with us
-all. I have seen people enter in a transport of haste to see the Lord
-Himself&mdash;noticing nothing, forgetting everything. I have seen others
-come in a transport of terror&mdash;so afraid they were of Him.”</p>
-
-<p>“And I had scarcely thought about seeing Him till now!” I felt ashamed
-of this. But my father comforted me by a look.</p>
-
-<p>“Each comes to his own by his own,” he said. “The nature is never
-forced. Here we unfold like a leaf, a flower. He expects nothing of us
-but to be natural.”</p>
-
-<p>This seemed to me a deep saying; and the more I thought of it the deeper
-it seemed. I said so as we walked, separate still from the others,
-through the beautiful weather. The change from a New England winter to
-the climate<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a>{48}</span> in which I found myself was, in itself, not the least of
-the great effects and delights which I experienced that first day.</p>
-
-<p>If nothing were expected of us but to be natural, it was the more
-necessary that it should be natural to be right.</p>
-
-<p>I felt the full force of this conviction as it had never been possible
-to feel it in the other state of being, where I was under restraint. The
-meaning of <i>liberty</i> broke upon me like a sunburst. Freedom was in and
-of itself the highest law. Had I thought that death was to mean release
-from personal obedience? Lo, death itself was but the elevation of moral
-claims, from lower to higher. I perceived how all demands of the larger
-upon the lesser self must be increased in the condition to which I had
-arrived. I felt overpowered for the moment with the intensity of these
-claims. It seemed to me that I had never really known before, what
-obligation meant. Conduct was now the least of difficulties. For
-impulse, which lay behind conduct, for all force which wrought out fact
-in me, I had become accountable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a>{49}</span></p>
-
-<p>“As nearly as I can make it out, Father,” I said, “henceforth I shall be
-responsible for my nature.”</p>
-
-<p>“Something like that; not altogether.”</p>
-
-<p>“The force of circumstance and heredity,”&mdash;I began, using the old
-earthly <i>patois</i>. “Of course I’m not to be called to account for what I
-start with here, any more than I was for what I started with there. That
-would be neither science nor philosophy.”</p>
-
-<p>“We are neither unscientific nor unphilosophical, you will find,” said
-my father, patiently.</p>
-
-<p>“I am very dull, sir. Be patient with me. What I am trying to say, I
-believe, is that I shall feel the deepest mortification if I do not find
-it natural to do right. This feeling is so keen, that to be wrong must
-be the most unnatural thing in the world. There is certainly a great
-difference from what it used to be; I cannot explain it. Already I am
-ashamed of the smallness of my thoughts when I first looked about in
-this place. Already I cannot understand why I did not spring like a
-fountain<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a>{50}</span> to the Highest, to the Best. But then, Father, I never was a
-devotee, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>When I had uttered these words I felt a recoil from myself, and sense of
-discord. I was making excuses for myself. That used to be a fault of the
-past life. One did not do it here. It was as if I had committed some
-grave social indecorum. I felt myself blushing. My father noticed my
-embarrassment, and called my attention to a brook by which we were
-walking, beginning to talk of its peculiar translucence and rhythm, and
-other little novelties, thus kindly diverting me from my distress, and
-teaching me how we were spared everything we could be in heaven, even in
-trifles like this. I was not so much as permitted to bear the edge of my
-regret, without the velvet of tenderness interposing to blunt the smart.
-It used to be thought among us below that one must be allowed to suffer
-from error, to learn. It seemed to be found here, that one learned by
-being saved from suffering. I wondered how it would be in the case of a
-really grave wrong which I might be so miserable as to commit;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a>{51}</span> and if I
-should ever be so unfortunate as to discover by personal experience.</p>
-
-<p>This train of thought went on while I was examining the brook. It had
-brilliant colors in the shallows, where certain strange agates formed
-pebbles of great beauty. There were also shells. A brook with shells
-enchanted me. I gathered some of them; they had opaline tints, and some
-were transparent as spun glass; they glittered in the hand, and did not
-dull when out of the water, like the shells we were used to. The shadows
-of strange trees hung across the tiny brown current, and unfamiliar
-birds flashed like tossed jewels overhead, through the branches and
-against the wonderful color of the sky. The birds were singing. One
-among them had a marvelous note. I listened to it for some time before I
-discovered that this bird was singing a Te Deum. How I knew that it was
-a Te Deum I cannot say. The others were more like earthly birds, except
-for the thrilling sweetness of their notes&mdash;and I could not see this
-one, for she seemed to be hidden from sight<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a>{52}</span> upon her nest. I observed
-that the bird upon the nest sang here as well as that upon the bough;
-and that I understood her: “<i>Te Deum laudamus&mdash;laudamus</i>” as distinctly
-as if I had been listening to a human voice.</p>
-
-<p>When I had comprehended this, and stood entranced to listen, I began to
-catch the same melody in the murmur of the water, and perceived, to my
-astonishment, that the two, the brook and the bird, carried parts of the
-harmony of a solemn and majestic mass. Apparently these were but
-portions of the whole, but all which it was permitted me to hear. My
-father explained to me that it was not every natural beauty which had
-the power to join in such surpassing chorals; these were selected, for
-reasons which he did not attempt to specify. I surmised that they were
-some of the simplest of the wonders of this mythical world, which were
-entrusted to new-comers, as being first within the range of their
-capacities. I was enraptured with what I heard. The light throbbed about
-me. The sweet harmony rang on. I bathed my face in the musical
-water&mdash;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a>{53}</span>it was as if I absorbed the sound at the pores of my skin. Dimly
-I received a hint of the possible existence of a sense or senses of
-which I had never heard.</p>
-
-<p>What wonders were to come! What knowledge, what marvel, what stimulation
-and satisfaction! And I had but just begun! I was overwhelmed with this
-thought, and looked about; I knew not which way to turn; I had not what
-to say. Where was the first step? What was the next delight? The fire of
-discovery kindled in my veins. Let us hasten, that we may investigate
-Heaven!</p>
-
-<p>“Shall we go on?” asked Father, regarding me earnestly.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes!” I cried, “let us go on. Let us see more&mdash;learn all. What a
-world have I come to! Let us begin at the beginning, and go to the end
-of it! Come quickly!”</p>
-
-<p>I caught his hand, and we started on my eager mood. I felt almost a
-superabundance of vitality, and sprang along; there was everlasting
-health within my bounding arteries; there was eternal vigor in my firm
-muscle and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a>{54}</span> sinews. How shall I express, to one who has never
-experienced it, the consciousness of life that can never die?</p>
-
-<p>I could have leaped, flown, or danced like a child. I knew not how to
-walk sedately, like others whom I saw about us, who looked at me
-smiling, as older people look at the young on earth. “I, too, have felt
-thus&mdash;and thus.” I wanted to exercise the power of my arms and limbs. I
-longed to test the triumphant poise of my nerve. My brain grew clearer
-and clearer, while for the gladness in my heart there is not any earthly
-word. As I bounded on, I looked more curiously at the construction of
-the body in which I found myself. It was, and yet it was not, like that
-which I had worn on earth. I seemed to have slipped out of one garment
-into another. Perhaps it was nearer the truth to say that it was like
-casting off an outer for an inner dress. There were nervous and arterial
-and other systems, it seemed, to which I had been accustomed. I cannot
-explain wherein they differed, as they surely did, and did enormously,
-from their representatives<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a>{55}</span> below. If I say that I felt as if I had got
-into the <i>soul of a body</i>, shall I be understood? It was as if I had
-been encased, one body within the other, to use a small earthly
-comparison, like the ivory figures which curious Chinese carvers cut
-within temple windows. I was constantly surprised at this. I do not know
-what I had expected, but assuredly nothing like the fact. Vague visions
-of gaseous or meteoric angelic forms have their place in the
-imaginations of most of us below; we picture our future selves as a kind
-of nebulosity. When I felt the spiritual flesh, when I used the strange
-muscle, when I heard the new heart-beat of my heavenly identity, I
-remembered certain words, with a sting of mortification that I had known
-them all my life, and paid so cool a heed to them: “There is a
-terrestrial body, and there is a celestial body.” The glory of the
-terrestrial was one. Behold, the glory of the celestial was another. St.
-Paul had set this tremendous assertion revolving in the sky of the human
-mind, like a star which we had not brought into our astronomy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a>{56}</span></p>
-
-<p>It was not a hint or a hope that he gave; it was the affirmation of a
-man who presumed to know. In common with most of his readers, I had
-received his statement with a poor incredulity or cold disregard.
-Nothing in the whole range of what we used to call the Bible, had been
-more explicit than those words; neither metaphor, nor allegory, nor
-parable befogged them; they were as clear cut as the dictum of
-Descartes. I recalled them with confusion, as I bounded over the elastic
-and wondrously-tinted grass.</p>
-
-<p>Never before, at least, had I known what the color of green should be;
-resembling, while differing from that called by the name on earth&mdash;a
-development of a color, a blossom from a bud, a marvel from a
-commonplace. Thus the sweet and common clothing which God had given to
-our familiar earth, transfigured, wrapped again the hills and fields of
-Heaven. And oh, what else? what next? I turned to my father to ask him
-in which direction we were going; at this moment an arrest of the whole
-current of feeling checked me like a great dam.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a>{57}</span></p>
-
-<p>Up to this point I had gone dizzily on; I had experienced the thousand
-diversions of a traveler in a foreign land; and, like such a traveler, I
-had become oblivious of that which I had left. The terrible incapacity
-of the human mind to retain more than one class of strong impressions at
-once, was temporarily increased by the strain of this, the greatest of
-all human experiences. The new had expelled the old. In an intense
-revulsion of feeling, too strong for expression, I turned my back on the
-beautiful landscape. All Heaven was before me, but dear, daily love was
-behind.</p>
-
-<p>“Father,” I said, choking, “I never forgot them before in all my life.
-Take me home! Let me go at once. I am not fit to be alive if Heaven
-itself can lead me to neglect my mother.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a>{58}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">In</span> my distress I turned and would have fled, which way I knew not. I was
-swept up like a weed on a surge of self-reproach and longing. What was
-eternal life if she had found out that I was dead? What were the
-splendors of Paradise, if she missed me? It was made evident to me that
-my father was gratified at the turn my impulses had taken, but he
-intimated that it might not be possible to follow them, and that this
-was a matter which must be investigated before acting. This surprised
-me, and I inquired of him eagerly&mdash;yet, I think not passionately, not
-angrily, as I should once have done at the thwarting of such a wish as
-that&mdash;what he meant by the doubt he raised.</p>
-
-<p>“It is not always permitted,” he said gravely. “We cannot return when we
-would. We go upon these errands when it is Willed. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a>{59}</span> will go and learn
-what the Will may be for you touching this matter. Stay here and wait
-for me.”</p>
-
-<p>Before I could speak, he had departed swiftly, with the great and glad
-motion of those who go upon sure business in this happy place; as if he
-himself, at least, obeyed unseen directions, and obeyed them with his
-whole being. To me, so lately from a lower life, and still so choked
-with its errors, this loving obedience of the soul to a great central
-Force which I felt on every hand, but comprehended not, as yet, affected
-me like the discovery of a truth in science. It was as if I had found a
-new law of gravitation, to be mastered only by infinite attention. I
-fell to thinking more quietly after my father had left me alone. There
-came a subsidence to my tempestuous impulse, which astonished myself. I
-felt myself drawn and shaped, even like a wave by the tide, by something
-mightier far than my own wish. But there was this about the state of
-feeling into which I had come: that which controlled me was not only
-greater, it was dearer than my<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a>{60}</span> desire. Already a calmness conquered my
-storm. Already my heart awaited, without outburst or out-thrust, the
-expression of that other desire which should decide my fate in this most
-precious matter. All the old rebellion was gone, even as the protest of
-a woman goes on earth before the progress of a mighty love. I no longer
-argued and explained. I did not require or insist. Was it possible that
-I did not even doubt? The mysterious, celestial law of gravitation
-grappled me. I could no more presume to understand it than I could
-withstand it.</p>
-
-<p>I had not been what is called a submissive person. All my life,
-obedience had torn me in twain. Below, it had cost me all I had to give,
-to cultivate what believers called trust in God.</p>
-
-<p>I had indeed tried, in a desperate and faulty fashion, but I had often
-been bitterly ashamed at the best result which I could achieve, feeling
-that I scarcely deserved to count myself among His children, or to call
-myself by the Name which represented the absolute obedience of the
-strongest nature that human history had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a>{61}</span> known. Always, under all, I had
-doubted whether I accepted God’s will because I wanted to, so much as
-because I had to. This fear had given me much pain, but being of an
-active temperament, far, perhaps too far, removed from mysticism, I had
-gone on to the next fight, or the next duty, without settling my
-difficulties; and so like others of my sort, battled along through life,
-as best or as worst I might. I had always hurried more than I had grown.
-To be sure, I was not altogether to blame for this, since circumstances
-had driven me fast, and I had yielded to them not always for my own
-sake; but clearly, it may be as much of a misfortune to be too busy, as
-to be idle; and one whose subtlest effects are latest perceived. I could
-now understand it to be reasonable, that if I had taken more time on
-earth to cultivate myself for the conditions of Heaven, I might have had
-a different experience at the outset of this life, in which one was
-never in a hurry.</p>
-
-<p>My father returned from his somewhat protracted absence, while I was
-thinking of these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a>{62}</span> things thus quietly. My calmer mood went out to meet
-his face, from which I saw at once what was the result of his errand,
-and so a gentle process prepared me for my disappointment when he said
-that it was not Willed that I should go to her at this immediate time.
-He advised me to rest awhile before taking the journey, and to seek this
-rest at once. No reasons were given for this command; yet strangely, I
-felt it to be the most reasonable thing in the world.</p>
-
-<p>No; blessedly no! I did not argue, or protest, I did not dash out my
-wild wish, I did not ask or answer anything&mdash;how wonderful!</p>
-
-<p>Had I needed proof any longer that I was dead and in Heaven, this
-marvelous adjustment of my will to that other would in itself have told
-me what and where I was.</p>
-
-<p>I cannot say that this process took place without effort. I found a
-certain magnificent effort in it, like that involved in the free use of
-my muscles; but it took place without pain. I did indeed ask,&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Will it be long?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a>{63}</span></p>
-
-<p>“Not long.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is kind in Him!” I remember saying, as we moved away. For now, I
-found that I thought first rather of what He gave than of what He
-denied. It seemed to me that I had acquired a new instinct. My being was
-larger by the acquisition of a fresh power. I felt a little as I used to
-do below, when I had conquered a new language.</p>
-
-<p>I had met, and by his loving mercy I had mastered, my first trial in the
-eternal life. This was to be remembered. It was like the shifting of a
-plate upon a camera.</p>
-
-<p>More wearied than I had thought by the effort, I was glad to sink down
-beneath the trees in a nook my father showed me, and yield to the
-drowsiness that stole upon me after the great excitement of the day. It
-was not yet dark, but I was indeed tired. A singular subsidence, not
-like our twilight, but still reminding one of it, had fallen upon the
-vivid color of the air. No one was passing; the spot was secluded; my
-father bade me farewell for the present, saying that he should return
-again; and I was left alone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a>{64}</span></p>
-
-<p>The grass was softer than eider of the lower world; and lighter than
-snow-flakes, the leaves that fell from low-hanging boughs about me.
-Distantly, I heard moving water; and more near, sleepy birds. More
-distant yet, I caught, and lost, and caught again, fragments of
-orchestral music. I felt infinite security. I had the blessedness of
-weariness that knew it could not miss of sleep. Dreams stole upon me
-with motion and touch so exquisite that I thought: “Sleep itself is a
-new joy; what we had below was only a hint of the real thing,” as I sank
-into deep and deeper rest.</p>
-
-<p>Do not think that I forgot my love and longing to be elsewhere. I think
-the wish to see her and to comfort her grew clearer every moment. But
-stronger still, like a comrade marching beside it, I felt the pacing of
-that great desire which had become dearer than my own.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a>{65}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">When</span> I waked, I was still alone. There seemed to have been showers, for
-the leaves and grass about me were wet; yet I felt no chill or dampness,
-or any kind of injury from this fact. Rather I had a certain
-refreshment, as if my sleeping senses had drunk of the peace and power
-of the dew that flashed far and near about me. The intense excitement
-under which I had labored since coming to this place was calmed. All the
-fevers of feeling were laid. I could not have said whether there had
-been what below we called night, or how the passage of time had marked
-itself; I only knew that I had experienced the recuperation of night,
-and that I sprang to the next duty or delight of existence with the
-vigor of recurring day.</p>
-
-<p>As I rose from the grass, I noticed a four-leaved clover, and
-remembering the pretty little<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a>{66}</span> superstition we used to have about it, I
-plucked it, and held it to my face, and so learned that the rain-drop in
-this new land had perfume; an exquisite scent; as if into the essence of
-brown earth and spicy roots, and aromatic green things, such as summer
-rain distills with us from out a fresh-washed world, there were mingled
-an inconceivable odor drawn out of the heart of the sky. Metaphysicians
-used to tell us that no man ever imagined a new perfume, even in his
-dreams. I could see that they were right, for anything like the perfume
-of clover after a rain in Heaven, had never entered into my sense or
-soul before. I saved the clover “for good luck,” as I used to do.</p>
-
-<p>Overhead there was a marvel. There seemed to have been clouds&mdash;their
-passing and breaking, and flitting&mdash;and now, behold the heavens
-themselves, bared of all their storm-drapery, had drawn across their
-dazzling forms a veil of glory. From what, for want of better knowledge,
-I still called East to West, and North to South, one supernal prism
-swept. The whole canopy of the sky was a rainbow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a>{67}</span></p>
-
-<p>It is impossible to describe this sight in any earthly tongue, to any
-dwellers of the earth. I stood beneath it, as a drop stands beneath the
-ocean. For a time I could only feel the surge of beauty&mdash;mere
-beauty&mdash;roll above me. Then, I think, as the dew had fallen from the
-leaf, so I sunk upon my knees. I prayed because it was natural to pray,
-and felt God in my soul as the prism feels the primary color, while I
-thanked Him that I was immortally alive. It had never been like this
-before, to pray; nay, prayer itself was now one of the discoveries of
-Heaven. It throbbed through me like the beat of a new heart. It seemed
-to me that He must be very near me. Almost it was, as if He and I were
-alone together in the Universe. For the first time, the passionate wish
-to be taken into His very visible presence,&mdash;that intense desire which I
-had heard of, as overpowering so many of the newly dead,&mdash;began to take
-possession of me. But I put it aside, since it was not permitted, and a
-consciousness of my unfitness came to me, that made the wish itself seem
-a kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a>{68}</span> mistake. I think this feeling was not unlike what we called
-below a sense of sin. I did not give it that name at that time. It had
-come to me so naturally and gradually, that there was no strain or pain
-about it. Yet when I had it, I could no longer conceive of being without
-it. It seemed to me that I was a stronger and wiser woman for it. A
-certain gentleness and humility different from what I had been used to,
-in my life of activity, wherein so many depended on me, and on the
-decided faculties of my nature, accompanied the growing sense of
-personal unworthiness with which I entered on the blessedness of
-everlasting life.</p>
-
-<p>I watched the rainbow of the sky till it had begun to fade&mdash;an event in
-itself an exquisite wonder, for each tint of the prism flashed out and
-ran in lightning across the heavens before falling to its place in the
-primary color, till at last the whole spectacle was resolved into the
-three elements, the red, the yellow, and the blue; which themselves
-moved on and away, like a conqueror dismissing a pageant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a>{69}</span></p>
-
-<p>When this gorgeous scene had ended, I was surprised to find that though
-dead and in Heaven, I was hungry. I gathered fruits which grew near, of
-strange form and flavor, but delicious to the taste past anything I had
-ever eaten, and I drank of the brook where the shells were, feeling
-greatly invigorated thereby. I was beginning to wonder where my father
-was, when I saw him coming towards me. He greeted me with his old
-good-morning kiss, laying his hand upon my head in a benediction that
-filled my soul.</p>
-
-<p>As we moved on together, I asked him if he remembered how we used to say
-below:</p>
-
-<p>“What a heavenly day!”</p>
-
-<p>Many people seemed to be passing on the road which we had chosen, but as
-we walked on they grew fewer.</p>
-
-<p>“There are those who wish to speak with you,” he said with a slight
-hesitation, “but all things can wait here; we learn to wait ourselves.
-You are to go to your mother now.”</p>
-
-<p>“And not with you?” I asked, having a certain fear of the mystery of my
-undertaking.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a>{70}</span> He shook his head with a look more nearly like
-disappointment than anything I had seen upon his face in this new life;
-explaining to me, however, with cheerful acquiescence, that it was not
-Willed that he should join me on my journey.</p>
-
-<p>“Tell her that I come shortly,” he added, “and that I come alone. She
-will understand. And have no fear; you have much to learn, but it will
-come syllable by syllable.”</p>
-
-<p>Now swiftly, at the instant while he spoke with me, I found myself alone
-and in a mountainous region, from which a great outlook was before me. I
-saw the kingdoms of heaven and the glory of them, spread out before me
-like a map. A mist of the colors of amethyst and emerald interfused,
-enwrapped the outlines of the landscape. All details grew blurred and
-beautiful like a dream at which one snatches vainly in the morning. Off,
-and beyond, the infinite ether throbbed. Yonder, like a speck upon a
-sunbeam, swam the tiny globe which we called earth. Stars and suns
-flashed and faded, revolving and waiting in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a>{71}</span> their places. Surely it was
-growing dark, for they sprang out like mighty light-houses upon the
-grayness of the void.</p>
-
-<p>The splendors of the Southern cross streamed far into the strange light,
-neither of night nor day, not of twilight or dawn, which surrounded me.</p>
-
-<p>Colored suns, of which astronomers had indeed taught us, poured
-undreamed-of light upon unknown planets. I passed worlds whose
-luminaries gave them scarlet, green, and purple days. “These too,” I
-thought, “I shall one day visit.” I flashed through currents of awful
-color, and measures of awful night. I felt more than I perceived, and
-wondered more than I feared. It was some moments before I realized, by
-these few astronomical details, that I was adrift, alone upon the
-mystery and mightiness of Space.</p>
-
-<p>Of this strange and solitary journey, I can speak so imperfectly, that
-it were better almost to leave it out of my narrative. Yet, when I
-remember how I have sometimes heard those still upon earth conceive,
-with the great fear<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a>{72}</span> and ignorance inseparable from earth-trained
-imagination, of such transits of the soul from point to point in ether,
-I should be glad to express at least the incomplete impressions which I
-received from this experience.</p>
-
-<p>The strongest of these, and the sweetest, was the sense of safety&mdash;and
-still the sense of safety; unassailable, everlasting; blessed beyond the
-thought of an insecure life to compass. To be dead was to be dead to
-danger, dead to fear. To be dead was to be alive to a sense of assured
-good chance that nothing in the universe could shake.</p>
-
-<p>So I felt no dread, believe me, though much awe and amazement, as I took
-my first journey from Heaven to earth. I have elsewhere said that the
-distance, by astronomical calculation, was in itself perhaps not
-enormous. I had an impression that I was crossing a great sphere or
-penumbra, belonging to the earth itself, and having a certain relation
-to it, like the soul to the body of a man.</p>
-
-<p>Was Heaven located within or upon this world-soul? The question occurred
-to me, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a>{73}</span> up to this time, I am still unable to answer it. The transit
-itself was swift and subtle as a thought. Indeed, it seemed to me that
-thought itself might have been my vehicle of conveyance; or perhaps I
-should say, feeling. My love and longing took me up like pollen taken by
-the wind. As I approached the spot where my dear ones dwelt and sorrowed
-for me, desire and speed both increased by a mighty momentum.</p>
-
-<p>Now I did not find this journey as difficult as that other, when I had
-departed, a freshly-freed soul, from earth to Heaven. I learned that I
-was now subject to other natural laws. A celestial gravitation
-controlled the celestial body, as that of the earth had compelled the
-other. I was upborne in space by this new and mysterious influence. Yet
-there was no dispute between it and the other law, the eternal law of
-love, which drew me down. Between soul and body, in the heavenly
-existence, there could be no more conflict than between light and an
-ether wave.</p>
-
-<p>I do not say that I performed this journey<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a>{74}</span> without effort or
-intelligence. The little knowledge I ever had was taxed in view of the
-grandeurs and the mysteries around me. Shall I be believed if I say that
-I recalled all the astronomy and geography that my life as a teacher had
-left still somewhat freshly imprinted on the memory? that the facts of
-physics recurred to me, even in that inroad of feeling? and that I
-guided myself to the Massachusetts town as I would have found it upon a
-globe at school? Already I learned that no acquisition of one life is
-lost in the next. Already I thanked God for everything I knew, only
-wishing, with the passion of ignorance newly revealed to itself by the
-dawn of wisdom, that my poor human acquirements had ever truly deserved
-the high name of study, or stored my thought with its eternal results.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a>{75}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">As</span> I approached the scene of my former life, I met many people. I had
-struck a realm of spirits who at first perplexed me. They did not look
-happy, and seemed possessed by great unrest. I observed that, though
-they fluttered and moved impatiently, none rose far above the surface of
-the earth. Most of them were employed in one way or another upon it.
-Some bought and sold; some eat and drank; others occupied themselves in
-coarse pleasures, from which one could but turn away the eyes. There
-were those who were busied in more refined ways:&mdash;students with eyes
-fastened to dusty volumes; virtuosos who hung about a picture, a statue,
-a tapestry, that had enslaved them; one musical creature I saw, who
-ought to have been of exquisite organization, judging from his hands&mdash;he
-played perpetually upon an instrument that he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a>{76}</span> not tune; women, I
-saw too, who robed and disrobed without a glint of pleasure in their
-faded faces.</p>
-
-<p>There were ruder souls than any of these&mdash;but one sought for them in the
-dens of the earth; their dead hands still were red with stains of blood,
-and in their dead hearts reigned the remnants of hideous passions.</p>
-
-<p>Of all these appearances, which I still found it natural to call
-phenomena as I should once have done, it will be remembered that I
-received the temporary and imperfect impression of a person passing
-swiftly through a crowd, so that I do not wish my account to be accepted
-for anything more trustworthy than it is.</p>
-
-<p>While I was wondering greatly what it meant, some one joined and spoke
-to me familiarly, and, turning, I saw it to be that old neighbor, Mrs.
-Mersey, to whom I have alluded, who, like myself, seemed to be bent upon
-an errand, and to be but a visitor upon the earth. She was a most lovely
-spirit, as she had always been, and I grasped her hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a>{77}</span> cordially while
-we swept on rapidly together to our journey’s end.</p>
-
-<p>“Do tell me,” I whispered, as soon as I could draw her near enough, “who
-all these people are, and what it means. I fear to guess. And yet indeed
-they seem like the dead who cannot get away.”</p>
-
-<p>“Alas,” she sighed, “you have said it. They loved nothing, they lived
-for nothing, they believed in nothing, they cultivated themselves for
-nothing but the earth. They simply lack the spiritual momentum to get
-away from it. It is as much the working of a natural law as the progress
-of a fever. Many of my duties have been among such as these. I know them
-well. They need time and tact in treatment, and oh, the greatest
-patience! At first it discouraged me, but I am learning the enthusiasm
-of my work.”</p>
-
-<p>“These, then,” I said, “were those I saw in that first hour, when my
-father led me out of the house, and through the street. I saw you among
-them, Mrs. Mersey, but I knew even then that you were not of them. But
-surely<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a>{78}</span> they do not stay forever prisoners of the earth? Surely such a
-blot on the face of spiritual life cannot but fade away? I am a
-new-comer. I am still quite ignorant, you see. But I do not understand,
-any more than I did before, how that could be.”</p>
-
-<p>“They have their choice,” she answered vaguely. But when I saw the high
-solemnity of her aspect, I feared to press my questions. I could not,
-however, or I did not forbear saying:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“At least <i>you</i> must have already persuaded many to sever themselves
-from such a condition as this?”</p>
-
-<p>“Already some, I hope,” she replied evasively, as she moved away. She
-always had remarkably fine manners, of which death had by no means
-deprived her. I admired her graciousness and dignity as she passed from
-my side to that of one we met, who, in a dejected voice, called her by
-her name, and intimated that he wished to speak with her. He was a pale
-and restless youth, and I thought, but was not sure, for we separated so
-quickly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a>{79}</span> that it was the little fellow I spoke of, Bobby Bend. I looked
-back, after I had advanced some distance on my way, and saw the two
-together, conversing earnestly. While I was still watching them, it
-seemed to me, though I cannot be positive upon this point, that they had
-changed their course, and were quietly ascending, she leading, he
-following, above the dismal sphere in which she found the lad, and that
-his heavy, awkward, downward motions became freer, struggling upward, as
-I gazed.</p>
-
-<p>I had now come to the location of my old home, and, as I passed through
-the familiar village streets, I saw that night was coming on. I met many
-whom I knew, both of those called dead and living. The former recognized
-me, but the latter saw me not. No one detained me, however, for I felt
-in haste which I could not conceal.</p>
-
-<p>With high-beating heart, I approached the dear old house. No one was
-astir. As I turned the handle of the door, a soft, sickening touch
-crawled around my wrist; recoiling, I found that I was entwisted in a
-piece of crape that the wind had blown against me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a>{80}</span></p>
-
-<p>I went in softly; but I might have spared myself the pains. No one heard
-me, though the heavy door creaked, I thought, as emphatically as it
-always had&mdash;loudest when we were out latest, and longest when we shut it
-quickest. I went into the parlor and stood, for a moment, uncertain what
-to do.</p>
-
-<p>Alice was there, and my married sister Jane, with her husband and little
-boy. They sat about the fire, conversing sadly. Alice’s pretty eyes were
-disfigured with crying. They spoke constantly of me. Alice was relating
-to Jane and her family the particulars of my illness. I was touched to
-hear her call me “patient and sweet;”&mdash;none the less because she had
-often told me I was the most impatient member of the family.</p>
-
-<p>No one had observed my entrance. Of course I was prepared for this, but
-I cannot tell why I should have felt it, as I certainly did. A low
-bamboo chair, cushioned with green <i>crétonne</i>, stood by the table. I had
-a fancy for this chair, and, pleased that they had left it unoccupied,
-advanced and took it, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a>{81}</span> old way. It was with something almost like
-a shock, that I found myself unnoticed in the very centre of their
-group.</p>
-
-<p>While I sat there, Jane moved to fix the fire, and, in returning, made
-as if she would take the bamboo chair.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, don’t!” said Alice, sobbing freshly. Jane’s own tears sprang, and
-she turned away.</p>
-
-<p>“It seems to me,” said my brother-in-law, looking about with the patient
-grimace of a business man compelled to waste time at a funeral, “that
-there has a cold draught come into this room from somewhere. Nobody has
-left the front door open, I hope? I’ll go and see.”</p>
-
-<p>He went, glad of the excuse to stir about, poor fellow, and I presume he
-took a comfortable smoke outside.</p>
-
-<p>The little boy started after his father, but was bidden back, and
-crawled up into the chair where I was sitting. I took the child upon my
-lap, and let him stay. No one removed him, he grew so quiet, and he was
-soon asleep in my arm. This pleased me; but I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a>{82}</span> not be contented
-long, so I kissed the boy and put him down. He cried bitterly, and ran
-to his mother for comfort.</p>
-
-<p>While they were occupied with him, I stole away. I thought I knew where
-Mother would be, and was ashamed of myself at the reluctance I certainly
-had to enter my own room, under these exciting circumstances.</p>
-
-<p>Conquering this timidity, as unwomanly and unworthy, I went up and
-opened the familiar door. I had begun to learn that neither sound nor
-sight followed my motions now, so that I was not surprised at attracting
-no attention from the lonely occupant of the room. I closed the
-door&mdash;from long habit I still made an effort to turn the latch
-softly&mdash;and resolutely examined what I saw.</p>
-
-<p>My mother was there, as I had expected. The room was cold&mdash;there was no
-fire,&mdash;and she had on her heavy blanket shawl. The gas was lighted, and
-one of my red candles, but both burned dimly. The poor woman’s magenta
-geranium had frozen. My mother sat in the red easy-chair, which, being a
-huge, old-fashioned<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a>{83}</span> thing, surrounded and shielded her from the
-draught. My clothes, and medicines, and all the little signs of sickness
-had been removed. The room was swept, and orderly. Above the bed, the
-pictures and the carved cross looked down.</p>
-
-<p>Below them, calm as sleep, and cold as frost, and terrible as silence,
-lay that which had been I.</p>
-
-<p><i>She</i> did not shrink. She was sitting close beside it. She gazed at it
-with the tenderness which death itself could not affright. Mother was
-not crying. She did not look as if she had shed tears for a long time.
-But her wanness and the drawn lines about her mouth were hard to see.
-Her aged hands trembled as she cut the locks of hair from the neck of
-the dead. She was growing to be an old woman. And I&mdash;her first-born&mdash;I
-had been her staff of life, and on me she had thought to lean in her
-widowed age. She seemed to me to have grown feeble fast in the time
-since I had left her.</p>
-
-<p>All my soul rushed to my lips, and I cried<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a>{84}</span> out&mdash;it seemed that either
-the dead or the living must hear that cry&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Mother! Oh, my dear <i>mother</i>!”</p>
-
-<p>But deaf as life, she sat before me. She had just cut off the lock of
-hair she wanted; as I spoke, the curling ends of it twined around her
-fingers; I tried to snatch it away, thinking thus to arrest her
-attention.</p>
-
-<p>The lock of hair trembled, turned, and clung the closer to the living
-hand. She pressed it to her lips with the passion of desolation.</p>
-
-<p>“But, Mother,” I cried once more, “I am <i>here</i>.” I flung my arms about
-her and kissed her again and again. I called and entreated her by every
-dear name that household love had taught us. I besought her to turn, to
-see, to hear, to believe, to be comforted. I told her how blest was I,
-how bountiful was death.</p>
-
-<p>“I am alive,” I said. “I am alive! I see you, I touch you, hear you,
-love you, hold you!” I tried argument and severity; I tried tenderness
-and ridicule.</p>
-
-<p>She turned at this: it seemed to me that she regarded me. She stretched
-her arms out;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a>{85}</span> her aged hands groped to and fro as if she felt for
-something and found it not; she shook her head, her dim eyes gazed
-blankly into mine. She sighed patiently, and rose as if to leave the
-room, but hesitated,&mdash;covered the face of the dead body&mdash;caressed it
-once or twice as if it had been a living infant&mdash;and then, taking up her
-Bible, which had been upon the chair beside her, dropped upon her knees,
-and holding the book against her sunken cheek, abandoned herself to
-silent prayer.</p>
-
-<p>This was more than I could bear just then, and, thinking to collect
-myself by a few moments’ solitude, I left her. But as I stood in the
-dark hall, uncertain and unquiet, I noticed a long, narrow line of light
-at my feet, and, following it confusedly, found that it came from the
-crack in the closed, but unlatched door of another well-remembered room.
-I pushed the door open hurriedly and closed it behind me.</p>
-
-<p>My brother sat in this room alone. His fire was blazing cheerfully and,
-flashing, revealed the deer’s-head from the Adirondacks, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a>{86}</span> stuffed
-rose-curlew from Florida, the gull’s wing from Cape Ann, the gun and
-rifle and bamboo fish-pole, the class photographs over the mantel, the
-feminine features on porcelain in velvet frames, all the little
-trappings with which I was familiar. Tom had been trying to study, but
-his Homer lay pushed away, with crumpled leaves, upon the table. Buried
-in his lexicon&mdash;one strong elbow intervening&mdash;down, like a hero thrown,
-the boy’s face had gone.</p>
-
-<p>“Tom,” I said quietly&mdash;I always spoke quietly to Tom, who had a
-constitutional fear of what he called “emotions”&mdash;“Tom, you’d better be
-studying your Greek. I’d much rather see you. Come, I’ll help you.”</p>
-
-<p>He did not move, poor fellow, and as I came nearer, I saw, to my
-heart-break, that our Tom was crying. Sobs shook his huge frame, and
-down between the iron fingers, toughened by base-ball matches, tears had
-streamed upon the pages of the Odyssey.</p>
-
-<p>“Tom, Tom, old fellow, <i>don’t</i>!” I cried, and, hungry as love, I took
-the boy. I got upon the arm of the smoking chair, as I used<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a>{87}</span> to, and so
-had my hands about his neck, and my cheek upon his curly hair, and would
-have soothed him. Indeed, he did grow calm, and calmer, as if he yielded
-to my touch; and presently he lifted his wet face, and looked about the
-room, half ashamed, half defiant, as if to ask who saw that.</p>
-
-<p>“Come, Tom,” I tried again. “It really isn’t so bad as you think. And
-there is Mother catching cold in that room. Go and get her away from the
-body. It is no place for her. She’ll get sick. Nobody can manage her as
-well as you.”</p>
-
-<p>As if he heard me, he arose. As if he knew me, he looked for the
-flashing of an instant into my eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t see how a girl of her sense can be <i>dead</i>,” said the boy aloud.
-He stretched his arms once above his head, and out into the bright,
-empty room, and I heard him groan in a way that wrung my heart. I went
-impulsively to him, and as his arms closed, they closed about me
-strongly. He stood for a moment quite still. I could feel the nervous
-strain subsiding all over his big soul and body.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a>{88}</span></p>
-
-<p>“Hush,” I whispered. “I’m no more dead than you are.”</p>
-
-<p>If he heard, what he felt, God knows. I speak of a mystery. No optical
-illusion, no tactual hallucination could hold the boy who took all the
-medals at the gymnasium. The hearty, healthy fellow could receive no
-abnormal sign from the love and longing of the dead. Only spirit unto
-spirit could attempt that strange out-reaching. Spirit unto spirit, was
-it done? Still, I relate a mystery, and what shall I say? His professor
-in the class-room of metaphysics would teach him next week that grief
-owns the law of the rhythm of motion; and that at the oscillation of the
-pendulum the excitement of anguish shall subside into apathy which
-mourners alike treat as a disloyalty to the dead, and court as a nervous
-relief to the living.</p>
-
-<p>Be this as it may, the boy grew suddenly calm, and even cheerful, and
-followed me at once. I led him directly to his mother, and left them for
-a time alone together.</p>
-
-<p>After this my own calm, because my own confidence, increased. My dreary
-sense of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a>{89}</span> helplessness before the suffering of those I loved, gave place
-to the consciousness of power to reach them. I detected this power in
-myself in an undeveloped form, and realized that it might require
-exercise and culture, like all other powers, if I would make valuable
-use of it. I could already regard the cultivation of the faculty which
-would enable love to defy death, and spirit to conquer matter, as likely
-to be one of the occupations of a full life.</p>
-
-<p>I went out into the fresh air for a time to think these thoughts through
-by myself, undisturbed by the sight of grief that I could not remove;
-and strolled up and down the village streets in the frosty night.</p>
-
-<p>When I returned to the house they had all separated for the night, sadly
-seeking sleep in view of the events of the morrow, when, as I had
-already inferred, the funeral would take place.</p>
-
-<p>I spent the night among them, chiefly with my mother and Tom, passing
-unnoticed from room to room, and comforting them in such ways as I found
-possible. The boy had locked<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a>{90}</span> his door, but after a few trials I found
-myself able to pass the medium of this resisting matter, and to enter
-and depart according to my will. Tom finished his lesson in the Odyssey,
-and I sat by and helped him when I could. This I found possible in
-simple ways, which I may explain farther at another time. We had often
-studied together, and his mind the more readily, therefore, responded to
-the influence of my own. He was soon well asleep, and I was free to give
-all my attention to my poor mother. Of those long and solemn hours, what
-shall I say? I thought she would never, never rest. I held her in these
-arms the live-long night. With these hands I caressed and calmed her.
-With these lips I kissed her. With this breath I warmed her cold brow
-and fingers. With all my soul and body I willed that I would comfort
-her, and I believe, thank God, I did. At dawn she slept peacefully; she
-slept late, and rose refreshed. I remained closely by her throughout the
-day.</p>
-
-<p>They did their best, let me say, to provide me with a Christian funeral,
-partly in accordance<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a>{91}</span> with some wishes I had expressed in writing,
-partly from the impulse of their own good sense. Not a curtain was drawn
-to darken the house of death. The blessed winter sunshine flowed in like
-the current of a broad stream, through low, wide windows. No ghastly
-“funeral flowers” filled the room; there was only a cluster of red pinks
-upon the coffin, and the air was sweet but not heavy with the carnation
-perfume that they knew I loved. My dead body and face they had covered
-with a deep red pall, just shaded off the black, as dark as darkness
-could be, and yet be redness. Not a bell was tolled. Not a tear&mdash;at
-least, I mean, by those nearest me&mdash;not a tear was shed. As the body was
-carried from the house, the voices of unseen singers lifted the German
-funeral chant:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Go forth! go on, with solemn song,<br /></span>
-<span class="i1">Short is the way; the rest is long!”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">At the grave they sang:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Softly now the light of day,”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">since my mother had asked for one of the old<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a>{92}</span> hymns; and besides the
-usual Scriptural Burial Service, a friend, who was dear to me, read Mrs.
-Browning’s “Sleep.”</p>
-
-<p>It was all as I would have had it, and I looked on peacefully. If I
-could have spoken I would have said: “You have buried me cheerfully, as
-Christians ought, as a Christian ought to be.”</p>
-
-<p>I was greatly touched, I must admit, at the grief of some of the poor,
-plain people who followed my body on its final journey to the village
-church-yard. The woman who sent the magenta geranium refused to be
-comforted, and there were one or two young girls whom I had been so
-fortunate as to assist in difficulties, who, I think, did truly mourn.
-Some of my boys from the Grand Army were there, too,&mdash;some, I mean, whom
-it had been my privilege to care for in the hospitals in the old war
-days. They came in uniform, and held their caps before their eyes. It
-did please me to see them there.</p>
-
-<p>When the brief service at the grave was over, I would have gone home
-with my mother,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a>{93}</span> feeling that she needed me more than ever; but as I
-turned to do so, I was approached by a spirit whose presence I had not
-observed. It proved to be my father. He detained me, explaining that I
-should remain where I was, feeling no fear, but making no protest, till
-the Will governing my next movement might be made known to me. So I bade
-my mother good-by, and Tom, as well as I could in the surprise and
-confusion, and watched them all as they went away. She, as she walked,
-seemed to those about her to be leaning only upon her son. But I beheld
-my father tenderly hastening close beside her, while he supported her
-with the arm which had never failed her yet, in all their loving lives.
-Therefore I could let her go, without distress.</p>
-
-<p>The funeral procession departed slowly; the grave was filled; one of the
-mill-girls came back and threw in some arbor vitæ and a flower or
-two,&mdash;the sexton hurried her, and both went away. It grew dusk, dark. I
-and my body were left alone together.</p>
-
-<p>Of that solemn watch, it is not for me to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a>{94}</span> chatter to any other soul.
-Memories overswept me, which only we two could share. Hopes possessed me
-which it were not possible to explain to another organization. Regret,
-resolve, awe, and joy, every high human emotion excepting fear, battled
-about us. While I knelt there in the windless night, I heard chanting
-from a long distance, but yet distinct to the dead, that is to the
-living ear. As I listened, the sound deepened, approaching, and a group
-of singing spirits swept by in the starlit air, poised like birds, or
-thoughts, above me:</p>
-
-<p>“<i>It is sown a natural&mdash;it is raised a spiritual body.</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Death! where is thy sting?&mdash;Grave!&mdash;thy victory?</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Believing in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.</i>”</p>
-
-<p>I tried my voice, and joined, for I could no longer help it, in the
-thrilling chorus. It was the first time since I died, that I had felt
-myself invited or inclined to share the occupations of others, in the
-life I had entered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a>{95}</span> Kneeling there, in the happy night, by my own
-grave, I lifted all my soul and sense into the immortal words, now for
-the first time comprehensible to me:</p>
-
-<p>“<i>I believe, I believe in the resurrection of the dead.</i>”</p>
-
-<p>It was not long thereafter that I received the summons to return. I
-should have been glad to go home once more, but was able to check my own
-preference without wilful protest, or an aching heart. The conviction
-that all was well with my darlings and myself, for life and for death,
-had now become an intense yet simple thing, like consciousness itself.</p>
-
-<p>I went as, and where I was bidden, joyfully.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a>{96}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Upon</span> reëntering the wonderful place which I had begun to call Heaven,
-and to which I still give that name, though not, I must say, with
-perfect assurance that the word is properly applied to that phase of the
-life of which I am the yet most ignorant recorder, I found myself more
-weary than I had been at any time since my change came. I was looking
-about, uncertain where to go, feeling, for the first time, rather
-homeless in this new country, when I was approached by a stranger, who
-inquired of me what I sought:</p>
-
-<p>“Rest,” I said promptly.</p>
-
-<p>“A familiar quest,” observed the stranger, smiling.</p>
-
-<p>“You are right, sir. It is a thing I have been seeking for forty years.”</p>
-
-<p>“And never found?”</p>
-
-<p>“Never found.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_097" id="page_097"></a>{97}</span></p>
-
-<p>“I will assist you,” he said gently, “that is, if you wish it. What will
-you have first?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sleep, I think, first, then food. I have been through exciting scenes.
-I have a touch&mdash;a faint one&mdash;of what below we called exhaustion. Yet now
-I am conscious in advance of the rest which is sure to come. Already I
-feel it, like the ebbing of the wave that goes to form the flow of the
-next. How blessed to know that one <i>can’t</i> be ill!”</p>
-
-<p>“How do you know that?” asked my companion.</p>
-
-<p>“On the whole, I don’t know that I do,” I answered, with embarrassment,
-“I suppose it is a remnant of one’s old religious teaching: ‘The
-inhabitant shall not say I am sick.’ Surely there were such words.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you trusted them?” asked the stranger.</p>
-
-<p>“The Bible was a hard book to accept,” I said quickly, “I would not have
-you overestimate my faith. I tried to believe that it was God’s message.
-I think I <i>did</i> believe it. But the reason was clear to me. I could not
-get past that if I wished to.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_098" id="page_098"></a>{98}</span></p>
-
-<p>“What, then, was the reason,” inquired my friend, solemnly, “why you
-trusted the message called the Word of God, as received by the believing
-among His children on earth?”</p>
-
-<p>“Surely,” I urged, “there is but one reason. I refer to the history of
-our Lord. I do not know whether all in this place are Christians; but I
-was one.&mdash;Sir! I anticipate your question. I was a most imperfect,
-useless one&mdash;to my sorrow and my shame I say it&mdash;but, so far as I went,
-I was an honest one.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did you love Him?&mdash;Him whom you called Lord?” asked the stranger, with
-an air of reserve. I replied that I thought I could truly say that He
-was dear to me.</p>
-
-<p>I began to be deeply moved by this conversation. I stole a look at the
-stranger, whom I had at first scarcely noticed, except as one among many
-passing souls. He was a man of surpassing majesty of mien, and for
-loveliness of feature I had seen no mortal to vie with him. “This,” I
-thought, “must be one of the beings we called angels.” Astonishing
-brightness rayed from him at every motion, and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_099" id="page_099"></a>{99}</span> noble face was like
-the sun itself. He moved beside me like any other spirit, and
-condescended to me so familiarly, yet with so unapproachable a dignity,
-that my heart went out to him as breath upon the air. It did not occur
-to me to ask him who he was, or whither he led me. It was enough that he
-led, and I followed without question or reply. We walked and talked for
-a long time together.</p>
-
-<p>He renewed the conversation by asking me whether I had really staked my
-immortal existence upon the promise of that obscure, uneducated Jew,
-twenty centuries in his grave,&mdash;that plain man who lived a fanatic’s
-life, and died a felon’s death, and whose teachings had given rise to
-such bigotry and error upon the earth. I answered that I had never been
-what is commonly called a devout person, not having a spiritual
-temperament, but that I had not held our Master responsible for the
-mistakes of either his friends or his foes, and that the greatest regret
-I had brought with me into Heaven was that I had been so unworthy to
-bear His blessed name. He next inquired of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a>{100}</span> me, if I truly believed that
-I owed my entrance upon my present life to the interposition of Him of
-whom we spoke.</p>
-
-<p>“Sir,” I said, “you touch upon sacred nerves. I should find it hard to
-tell you how utterly I believe that immortality is the gift of Jesus
-Christ to the human soul.”</p>
-
-<p>“I believed this on earth,” I added, “I believe it in Heaven. I do not
-<i>know</i> it yet, however. I am a new-comer; I am still very ignorant. No
-one has instructed me. I hope to learn ‘syllable by syllable.’ I am
-impatient to be taught; yet I am patient to be ignorant till I am found
-worthy to learn. It may be, that you, sir, who evidently are of a higher
-order of life than ours, are sent to enlighten me?”</p>
-
-<p>My companion smiled, neither dissenting from, nor assenting to my
-question, and only asked me in reply, if I had yet spoken with the Lord.
-I said that I had not even seen Him; nay, that I had not even asked to
-see Him. My friend inquired why this was, and I told him frankly that it
-was partly because<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a>{101}</span> I was so occupied at first&mdash;nay, most of the time
-until I was called below.</p>
-
-<p>“I had not much room to think. I was taken from event to event, like a
-traveler. This matter that you speak of seemed out of place in every way
-at that time.”</p>
-
-<p>Then I went on to say that my remissness was owing partly to a little
-real self-distrust, because I feared I was not the kind of believer to
-whom He would feel quickly drawn; that I felt afraid to propose such a
-preposterous thing as being brought into His presence; that I supposed,
-when He saw fit to reveal Himself to me, I should be summoned in some
-orderly way, suitable to this celestial community; that, in fact, though
-I had cherished this most sweet and solemn desire, I had not mentioned
-it before, not even to my own father who conducted me to this place.</p>
-
-<p>“I have not spoken of it,” I said, “to any body but to you.”</p>
-
-<p>The stranger’s face wore a remarkable expression when I said this, as if
-I had deeply gratified him; and there glittered from his entire<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a>{102}</span> form
-and features such brightness as well-nigh dazzled me. It was as if,
-where a lesser being would have spoken, or stirred, he shone. I felt as
-if I conversed with him by radiance, and that living light had become a
-vocabulary between us. I have elsewhere spoken of the quality of
-reflecting light as marked among the ordinary inhabitants of this new
-life; but in this case I was aware of a distinction, due, I thought, to
-the superior order of existence to which my friend belonged. He did not,
-like the others, reflect; he radiated glory. More and more, as we had
-converse together, this impressed, until it awed me. We remained
-together for a long time. People who met us, greeted the angel with
-marked reverence, and turned upon me glances of sympathetic delight; but
-no one interrupted us. We continued our walk into a more retired place,
-by the shore of a sea, and there we had deep communion.</p>
-
-<p>My friend had inquired if I were still faint, and if I preferred to turn
-aside for food and rest; but when he asked me the question I was amazed
-to find that I no longer had the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a>{103}</span> need of either. Such delight had I in
-his presence, such invigoration in his sympathy, that glorious
-recuperation had set in upon my earth-caused weariness. Such power had
-the soul upon the celestial body! Food for the first was force to the
-other.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed to me that I had never known refreshment of either before; and
-that Heaven itself could contain no nutriment that would satisfy me
-after this upon which I fed in that high hour.</p>
-
-<p>It is not possible for me to repeat the solemn words of that interview.
-We spoke of grave and sacred themes. He gave me great counsel and fine
-sympathy. He gave me affectionate rebuke and unfathomable resolve. We
-talked of those inner experiences which, on earth, the soul protects,
-like struggling flame, between itself and the sheltering hand of God. We
-spoke much of the Master, and of my poor hope that I might be permitted
-after I had been a long time in Heaven, to become worthy to see Him,
-though at the vast distance of my unworthiness. Of that unworthiness
-too, we<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a>{104}</span> spoke most earnestly; while we did so, the sense of it grew
-within me like a new soul; yet so divinely did my friend extend his
-tenderness to me, that I was strengthened far more than weakened by
-these finer perceptions of my unfitness, which he himself had aroused in
-me. The counsel that he gave me, Eternity could not divert out of my
-memory, and the comfort which I had from him I treasure to this hour.
-“Here,” I thought, “here, at last, I find reproof as gentle as sympathy,
-and sympathy as invigorating as reproof. Now, for the first time in all
-my life, I find myself truly understood. What could I not become if I
-possessed the friendship of such a being! How shall I develop myself so
-as to obtain it? How can I endure to be deprived of it? Is this too,
-like friendship on earth, a snatch, a compromise, a heart-ache, a mirror
-in which one looks only long enough to know that it is dashed away? Have
-I begun that old pain again, <i>here</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>For I knew, as I sat in that solemn hour with my face to the sea and my
-soul with him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a>{105}</span> while sweeter than any song of all the waves of Heaven
-or earth to sea-lovers sounded his voice who did commune with
-me,&mdash;verily I knew, for then and forever, that earth had been a void to
-me because I had him not, and that Heaven could be no Heaven to me
-without him.</p>
-
-<p>All which I had known of human love; all that I had missed; the dreams
-from which I had been startled; the hopes that had evaded me; the
-patience which comes from knowing that one may not even try not to be
-misunderstood; the struggle to keep a solitary heart sweet; the
-anticipation of desolate age which casts its shadow backward upon the
-dial of middle life; the paralysis of feeling which creeps on with its
-disuse; the distrust of one’s own atrophied faculties of loving; the
-sluggish wonder if one is ceasing to be lovable; the growing difficulty
-of explaining oneself even when it is necessary, because no one being
-more than any other cares for the explanation; the things which a lonely
-life converts into silence that cannot be broken, swept upon me like
-rapids, as, turning to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a>{106}</span> look into his dazzling face, I said:
-“This&mdash;<i>all</i> this he understands.”</p>
-
-<p>But when, thus turning, I would have told him so, for there seemed to be
-no poor pride in Heaven, forbidding soul to tell the truth to
-soul,&mdash;when I turned, my friend had risen, and was departing from me, as
-swiftly and mysteriously as he came. I did not cry out to him to stay,
-for I felt ashamed; nor did I tell him how he had bereft me, for that
-seemed a childish folly. I think I only stood and looked at him.</p>
-
-<p>“If there is any way of being worthy of your friendship,” I said below
-my breath, “I will have it, if I toil for half Eternity to get it.”</p>
-
-<p>Now, though these words were scarcely articulate, I think he heard them,
-and turning, with a smile which will haunt my dreams and stir my deeds
-as long as I shall live, he laid his hand upon my head, and blessed
-me&mdash;but what he said I shall tell no man&mdash;and so departed from me, and I
-was left upon the shore alone, fallen, I think, in a kind of sleep or
-swoon.</p>
-
-<p>When I awoke, I was greatly calmed and strengthened, but disinclined, at
-first, to move. I had the reaction from what I knew was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a>{107}</span> intensest
-experience of my life, and it took time to adjust my feelings to my
-thoughts.</p>
-
-<p>A young girl came up while I sat there upon the sands, and employed
-herself in gathering certain marvelous weeds that the sea had tossed up.
-These weeds fed upon the air, as they had upon the water, remaining
-fresh upon the girl’s garments, which she decorated with them. She did
-not address me, but strolled up and down silently. Presently, feeling
-moved by the assurance of congeniality that one detects so much more
-quickly in Heaven than on earth, I said to the young girl:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Can you tell me the name of the angel&mdash;you must have met him&mdash;who has
-but just left me, and with whom I have been conversing?”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you then truly not know?” she asked, shading her eyes with her hand,
-and looking off in the direction my friend had taken; then back again,
-with a fine, compassionate surprise at me.</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I know not.”</p>
-
-<p>“That was the Master who spoke with you.”</p>
-
-<p>“What did you <i>say</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“That was our Lord Himself.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a>{108}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">After</span> the experience related in the last chapter, I remained for some
-time in solitude. Speech seemed incoherence, and effort impossible. I
-needed a pause to adapt myself to my awe and my happiness; upon neither
-of which will it be necessary for me to dwell. Yet I think I may be
-understood if I say that from this hour I found that what we call Heaven
-had truly begun for me. Now indeed for the first time I may say that I
-believed without wonder in the life everlasting; since now, for the
-first time, I had a reason sufficient for the continuance of existence.
-A force like the cohesion of atoms held me to eternal hope. Brighter
-than the dawn of friendship upon a heart bereft, more solemn than the
-sunrise of love itself upon a life that had thought itself unloved,
-stole on the power of the Presence to which I had been admitted in so
-surprising, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a>{109}</span> yet, after all, how natural a way! Henceforth the
-knowledge that this experience might be renewed for me at any turn of
-thought or act, would illuminate joy itself, so that “it should have no
-need of the sun to lighten it.” I recalled these words, as one recalls a
-familiar quotation repeated for the first time on some foreign locality
-of which it is descriptive. Now I knew what he meant, who wrote: “The
-Lamb is the Light thereof.”</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p>When I came to myself, I observed the young girl who had before
-addressed me still strolling on the shore. She beckoned, and I went to
-her, with a new meekness in my heart. What will He have me to do? If, by
-the lips of this young thing, He choose to instruct me, let me glory in
-the humility with which I will be a learner!</p>
-
-<p>All things seemed to be so exquisitely ordered for us in this new life,
-all flowed so naturally, like one sound-wave into another, with ease so
-apparent, yet under law so superb, that already I was certain Heaven
-contained<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a>{110}</span> no accidents, and no trivialities; as it did no shocks or
-revolutions.</p>
-
-<p>“If you like,” said the young girl, “we will cross the sea.”</p>
-
-<p>“But how?” I asked, for I saw no boat.</p>
-
-<p>“Can you not, then, walk upon the water yet?” she answered. “Many of us
-do, as He did once below. But we no longer call such things miracles.
-They are natural powers. Yet it is an art to use them. One has to learn
-it, as we did swimming, or such things, in the old times.”</p>
-
-<p>“I have only been here a short time,” I said, half amused at the little
-celestial “airs” my young friend wore so sweetly. “I know but little
-yet. Can you teach me how to walk on water?”</p>
-
-<p>“It would take so much time,” said the young girl, “that I think we
-should not wait for that. We go on to the next duty, now. You had better
-learn, I think, from somebody wiser than I. I will take you over another
-way.”</p>
-
-<p>A great and beautiful shell, not unlike a nautilus, was floating near
-us, on the incoming<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a>{111}</span> tide, and my companion motioned to me to step into
-this. I obeyed her, laughing, but without any hesitation. “Neither shall
-there be any more death,” I thought as I glanced over the rose-tinted
-edges of the frail thing into the water, deeper than any I had ever
-seen, but unclouded, so that I looked to the bottom of the sea. The girl
-herself stepped out upon the waves with a practiced air, and lightly
-drawing the great shell with one hand, bore me after her, as one bears a
-sledge upon ice. As we came into mid-water we began to meet others, some
-walking, as she did, some rowing or drifting like myself. Upon the
-opposite shore uprose the outlines of a more thickly settled community
-than any I had yet seen.</p>
-
-<p>Watching this with interest that deepened as we approached the shore, I
-selfishly or uncourteously forgot to converse with my companion, who did
-not disturb my silence until we landed. As she gave me her hand, she
-said in a quick, direct tone:</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Miss Mary, I see that you do not know me, after all.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a>{112}</span></p>
-
-<p>I felt, as I had already done once or twice before, a certain social
-embarrassment (which in itself instructed me, as perpetuating one of the
-minor emotions of life below that I had hardly expected to renew) before
-my lovely guide, as I shook my head, struggling with the phantasmal
-memories evoked by her words. No, I did not know her.</p>
-
-<p>“I am Marie Sauvée. I <i>hope</i> you remember.”</p>
-
-<p>She said these words in French. The change of language served instantly
-to recall the long train of impressions stored away, who knew how or
-where, about the name and memory of this girl.</p>
-
-<p>“Marie Sauvée! <i>You</i>&mdash;<small>HERE</small>!” I exclaimed in her own tongue.</p>
-
-<p>At the name, now, the whole story, like the bright side of a
-dark-lantern, flashed. It was a tale of sorrow and shame, as sad,
-perhaps, as any that it had been my lot to meet. So far as I had ever
-known, the little French girl, thrown in my way while I was serving in
-barracks at Washington, had baffled every effort I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a>{113}</span> had made to win her
-affection or her confidence, and had gone out of my life as the
-thistle-down flies on the wind. She had cost me many of those precious
-drops of the soul’s blood which all such endeavor drains; and in the
-laboratory of memory I had labelled them, “Worse than Wasted,” and sadly
-wondered if I should do the same again for such another need, at just
-such hopeless expenditure, and had reminded myself that it was not good
-spiritual economy, and said that I would never repeat the experience,
-and known all the while that I should.</p>
-
-<p>Now here, a spirit saved, shining as the air of Heaven, “without spot or
-any such thing”&mdash;here, wiser in heavenly lore than I, longer with Him
-than I, nearer to Him than I, dearer to Him, perhaps, than I&mdash;<i>here</i> was
-Marie Sauvée.</p>
-
-<p>“I do not know how to apologize,” I said, struggling with my emotion,
-“for the way in which I spoke to you just now. Why should you not be
-here? Why, indeed? Why am I here? Why”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a>{114}</span>&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Dear Miss Mary,” cried the girl, interrupting me passionately, “but for
-you it might never have been as it is. Or never for ages&mdash;I cannot say.
-I might have been a ghost, bound yet to the hated ghost of the old life.
-It was your doing, at the first&mdash;down there&mdash;all those years ago. Miss
-Mary, you were the first person I ever loved. You didn’t know it. I had
-no idea of telling you. But I did, I loved you. After you went away, I
-loved you; ever since then, I loved you. I said, I will be fit to love
-her before I die. And then I said, I will go where she is going, for I
-shall never get at her anywhere else. And when I entered this place&mdash;for
-I had no friend or relative here that I knew, to meet me&mdash;I was more
-frightened than it is possible for any one like you to understand, and
-wondered what place there could be for one like me in all this country,
-and how I could ever get accustomed to their ways, and whether I should
-shock and grieve them&mdash;you <i>can’t</i> understand <i>that</i>; I dreaded it so, I
-was afraid I should swear after I got to Heaven; I was afraid I might
-say<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a>{115}</span> some evil word, and shame them all, and shame myself more than I
-could ever get over. I knew I wasn’t educated for any such society. I
-knew there wasn’t anything in me that would be at home here, but just”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“But just what, Marie?” I asked, with a humility deeper than I could
-have expressed.</p>
-
-<p>“But just my love for you, Miss Mary. That was all. I had nothing to
-come to Heaven on, but loving you and meaning to be a better girl
-because I loved you. That was truly all.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is impossible!” I said quickly. “Your love for me never brought
-you here of itself alone. You are mistaken about this. It is neither
-Christianity nor philosophy.”</p>
-
-<p>“There is no mistake,” persisted the girl, with gentle obstinacy,
-smiling delightedly at my dogmatism, “I came here because I loved you.
-Do you not see? In loving you, I loved&mdash;for the first time in my life I
-loved&mdash;goodness. I really did. And when I got to this place, I found out
-that goodness was the same as God. And I had been getting<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a>{116}</span> the love of
-God into my heart, all that time, in that strange way, and never knew
-how it was with me, until&mdash;Oh, Miss Mary, who do you think it was, <small>WHO</small>,
-that met me within an hour after I died?”</p>
-
-<p>“It was our Master,” she added in an awe-struck, yet rapturous whisper,
-that thrilled me through. “It was He Himself. He was the first, for I
-had nobody, as I told you, belonging to me in this holy place, to care
-for a wretch like me.&mdash;<i>He</i> was the first to meet <i>me</i>! And it was He
-who taught me everything I had to learn. It was He who made me feel
-acquainted and at home. It was He who took me on from love of you, to
-love of Him, as you put one foot after another in learning to walk after
-you have had a terrible sickness. And it was <i>He</i> who never reminded
-me&mdash;never once reminded me&mdash;of the sinful creature I had been. Never, by
-one word or look, from that hour to this day, has He let me feel ashamed
-in Heaven. That is what <i>He</i> is!” cried the girl, turning upon me, in a
-little sudden, sharp way she used to have; her face and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a>{117}</span> form were so
-transfigured before me, as she spoke, that it seemed as if she quivered
-with excess of light, and were about to break away and diffuse herself
-upon the radiant air, like song, or happy speech, or melting color.</p>
-
-<p>“Die for Him!” she said after a passionate silence. “If I could die
-everlastingly and everlastingly and everlastingly, to give Him any
-pleasure, or to save Him any pain&mdash; But then, that’s nothing,” she added,
-“I love Him. That is all that means.&mdash;And I’ve only got to live
-everlastingly instead. That is the way He has treated me&mdash;<i>me</i>!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a>{118}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> shore upon which we had landed was thickly populated, as I have
-said. Through a sweep of surpassingly beautiful suburbs, we approached
-the streets of a town. It is hard to say why I should have been
-surprised at finding in this place the signs of human traffic,
-philanthropy, art, and study&mdash;what otherwise I expected, who can say? My
-impressions, as Marie Sauvée led me through the city, had the confusion
-of sudden pleasure. The width and shining cleanliness of the streets,
-the beauty and glittering material of the houses, the frequent presence
-of libraries, museums, public gardens, signs of attention to the wants
-of animals, and places of shelter for travelers such as I had never seen
-in the most advanced and benevolent of cities below,&mdash;these were the
-points that struck me most forcibly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a>{119}</span></p>
-
-<p>The next thing, which in a different mood might have been the first that
-impressed me was the remarkable expression of the faces that I met or
-passed. No thoughtful person can have failed to observe, in any throng,
-the preponderant look of unrest and dissatisfaction in the human eye.
-Nothing, to a fine vision, so emphasizes the isolation of being, as the
-faces of people in a crowd. In this new community to which I had been
-brought, that old effect was replaced by a delightful change. I
-perceived, indeed, great intentness of purpose here, as in all
-thickly-settled regions; the countenances that passed me indicated close
-conservation of social force and economy of intellectual energy; these
-were people trained by attrition with many influences, and balanced with
-the conflict of various interests. But these were men and women, busy
-without hurry, efficacious without waste; they had ambition without
-unscrupulousness, power without tyranny, success without vanity, care
-without anxiety, effort without exhaustion,&mdash;hope, fear, toil,
-uncertainty it seemed, elation it was sure<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a>{120}</span>&mdash;but a repose that it was
-impossible to call by any other name than divine, controlled their
-movements, which were like the pendulum of a golden clock whose works
-are out of sight. I watched these people with delight. Great numbers of
-them seemed to be students, thronging what we should call below
-colleges, seminaries, or schools of art, or music, or science. The
-proportion of persons pursuing some form of intellectual acquisition
-struck me as large. My little guide, to whom I mentioned this, assented
-to the fact, pointing out to me a certain institution we had passed, at
-which she herself was, she said, something like a primary scholar, and
-from which she had been given a holiday to meet me as she did, and
-conduct me through the journey that had been appointed for me on that
-day. I inquired of her what her studies might be like; but she told me
-that she was hardly wise enough as yet to explain to me what I could
-learn for myself when I had been longer in this place, and when my
-leisure came for investigating its attractions at my own will.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a>{121}</span></p>
-
-<p>“I am uncommonly ignorant, you know,” said Marie Sauvée humbly, “I have
-everything to learn. There is book knowledge and thought knowledge and
-soul knowledge, and I have not any of these. I was as much of what you
-used to call a heathen, as any Fiji-Islander you gave your missionaries
-to. I have so much to learn, that I am not sent yet upon other business
-such as I should like.”</p>
-
-<p>Upon my asking Marie Sauvée what business this might be, she hesitated.
-“I have become ambitious in Heaven,” she answered slowly. “I shall never
-be content till I am fit to be sent to the worst woman that can be
-found&mdash;no matter which side of death&mdash;I don’t care in what world&mdash;I want
-to be sent to one that nobody else will touch; I think I might know how
-to save her. It is a tremendous ambition!” she repeated. “Preposterous
-for the greatest angel there is here! And yet I&mdash;<i>I</i> mean to do it.”</p>
-
-<p>I was led on in this way by Marie Sauvée, through and out of the city
-into the western suburbs; we had approached from the east,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a>{122}</span> and had
-walked a long distance. There did not occur to me, I think, till we had
-made the circuit of the beautiful town, one thing, which, when I did
-observe it, struck me as, on the whole, the most impressive that I had
-noticed. “I have not seen,” I said, stopping suddenly, “I have not seen
-a poor person in all this city.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nor an aged one, have you?” asked Marie Sauvée, smiling.</p>
-
-<p>“Now that I think of it,&mdash;no. Nor a sick one. Not a beggar. Not a
-cripple. Not a mourner. Not&mdash;and yet what have we here? This building,
-by which you are leading me, bears a device above the door, the last I
-should ever have expected to find <i>here</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>It was an imposing building, of a certain translucent material that had
-the massiveness of marble, with the delicacy of thin agate illuminated
-from within. The rear of this building gave upon the open country, with
-a background of hills, and the vision of the sea which I had crossed.
-People strolled about the grounds, which had more than the magnificence<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a>{123}</span>
-of Oriental gardens. Music came from the building, and the saunterers,
-whom I saw, seemed nevertheless not to be idlers, but persons busily
-employed in various ways&mdash;I should have said, under the close direction
-of others who guided them. The inscription above the door of this
-building was a word, in a tongue unknown to me, meaning “Hospital,” as I
-was told.</p>
-
-<p>“They are the sick at heart,” said Marie Sauvée, in answer to my look of
-perplexity, “who are healed there. And they are the sick of soul; those
-who were most unready for the new life; they whose spiritual being was
-diseased through inaction, <i>they</i> are the invalids of Heaven. There they
-are put under treatment, and slowly cured. With some, it takes long. I
-was there myself when I first came, for a little; it will be a most
-interesting place for you to visit, by-and-by.”</p>
-
-<p>I inquired who were the physicians of this celestial sanitarium.</p>
-
-<p>“They who unite the natural love of healing to the highest spiritual
-development.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a>{124}</span></p>
-
-<p>“By no means, then, necessarily they who were skilled in the treatment
-of diseases on earth?” I asked, laughing.</p>
-
-<p>“Such are oftener among the patients,” said Marie Sauvée sadly. To me,
-so lately from the earth, and our low earthly way of finding amusement
-in facts of this nature, this girl’s gravity was a rebuke. I thanked her
-for it, and we passed by the hospital&mdash;which I secretly made up my mind
-to investigate at another time&mdash;and so out into the wider country, more
-sparsely settled, but it seemed to me more beautiful than that we had
-left behind.</p>
-
-<p>“There,” I said, at length, “is to my taste the loveliest spot we have
-seen yet. That is the most homelike of all these homes.”</p>
-
-<p>We stopped before a small and quiet house built of curiously inlaid
-woods, that reminded me of Sorrento work as a great achievement may
-remind one of a first and faint suggestion. So exquisite was the carving
-and coloring, that on a larger scale the effect might have interfered
-with the solidity of the building, but so<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a>{125}</span> modest were the proportions
-of this charming house, that its dignity was only enhanced by its
-delicacy. It was shielded by trees, some familiar to me, others strange.
-There were flowers&mdash;not too many; birds; and I noticed a fine dog
-sunning himself upon the steps. The sweep of landscape from all the
-windows of this house must have been grand. The wind drove up from the
-sea. The light, which had a peculiar depth and color, reminding me of
-that which on earth flows from under the edge of a breaking storm-cloud
-at the hour preceding sunset, formed an aureola about the house. When my
-companion suggested my examining this place, since it so attracted me, I
-hesitated, but yielding to her wiser judgment, strolled across the
-little lawn, and stood, uncertain, at the threshold. The dog arose as I
-came up, and met me cordially, but no person seemed to be in sight.</p>
-
-<p>“Enter,” said Marie Sauvée in a tone of decision. “You are expected. Go
-where you will.”</p>
-
-<p>I turned to remonstrate with her, but the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a>{126}</span> girl had disappeared. Finding
-myself thus thrown on my own resources, and having learned already the
-value of obedience to mysterious influences in this new life, I gathered
-courage, and went into the house. The dog followed me affectionately,
-rather than suspiciously.</p>
-
-<p>For a few moments I stood in the hall or ante-room, alone and perplexed.
-Doors opened at right and left, and vistas of exquisitely-ordered rooms
-stretched out. I saw much of the familiar furniture of a modest home,
-and much that was unfamiliar mingled therewith. I desired to ask the
-names or purposes of certain useful articles, and the characters and
-creators of certain works of art. I was bewildered and delighted. I had
-something of the feeling of a rustic visitor taken for the first time to
-a palace or imposing town-house.</p>
-
-<p>Was Heaven an aggregate of homes like this? Did everlasting life move on
-in the same dear ordered channel&mdash;the dearest that human experiment had
-ever found&mdash;the channel of family love? Had one, after death, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a>{127}</span> old
-blessedness without the old burden? The old sweetness without the old
-mistake? The familiar rest, and never the familiar fret? Was there
-always in the eternal world “somebody to come home to”? And was there
-always the knowledge that it could not be the wrong person? Was all
-<i>that</i> eliminated from celestial domestic life? Did Heaven solve the
-problem on which earth had done no more than speculate?</p>
-
-<p>While I stood, gone well astray on thoughts like these, feeling still
-too great a delicacy about my uninvited presence in this house, I heard
-the steps of the host, or so I took them to be; they had the indefinable
-ring of the master’s foot. I remained where I was, not without
-embarrassment, ready to apologize for my intrusion as soon as he should
-come within sight. He crossed the long room at the left, leisurely; I
-counted his quiet footsteps; he advanced, turned, saw me&mdash;I too,
-turned&mdash;and so, in this way, it came about that I stood face to face
-with my own father.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a>{128}</span>... I had found the eternal life full of the unexpected, but this was
-almost the sweetest thing that had happened to me yet.</p>
-
-<p>Presently my father took me over the house and the grounds; with a
-boyish delight, explaining to me how many years he had been building and
-constructing and waiting with patience in his heavenly home for the
-first one of his own to join him. Now, he too, should have “somebody to
-come home to.” As we dwelt upon the past and glanced at the future, our
-full hearts overflowed. He explained to me that my new life had but now,
-in the practical sense of the word, begun; since a human home was the
-centre of all growth and blessedness. When he had shown me to my own
-portion of the house, and bidden me welcome to it, he pointed out to me
-a certain room whose door stood always open, but whose threshold was
-never crossed. I hardly feel that I have the right, in this public way,
-to describe, in detail, the construction or adornment of this room. I
-need only say that Heaven itself seemed to have been ransacked to bring
-together the daintiest, the most delicate, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a>{129}</span> purest, thoughts and
-fancies that celestial skill or art could create. Years had gone to the
-creation of this spot; it was a growth of time, the occupation of that
-loneliness which must be even in the happy life, when death has
-temporarily separated two who had been one. I was quite prepared for his
-whispered words, when he said,&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Your mother’s room, my dear. It will be all ready for her at any time.”</p>
-
-<p>This union had been a <i>marriage</i>&mdash;not one of the imperfect ties that
-pass under the name, on earth. Afterwards, when I learned more of the
-social economy of the new life, I perceived more clearly the rarity and
-peculiar value of an experience which had in it the elements of what
-might be called (if I should be allowed the phrase) eternal permanency,
-and which involved, therefore, none of the disintegration and
-redistribution of relations consequent upon passing from temporary or
-mistaken choices to a fixed and perfect state of society.</p>
-
-<p>Later, on that same evening, I was called<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a>{130}</span> eagerly from below. I was
-resting, and alone;&mdash;I had, so to speak, drawn my first breath in
-Heaven; once again, like a girl in my own room under my father’s roof;
-my heart at anchor, and my peace at full tide. I ran as I used to run,
-years ago, when he called me, crying down,&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“I’m coming, Father,” while I delayed a moment to freshen my dress, and
-to fasten it with some strange white flowers that climbed over my
-window, and peered, nodding like children, into the room.</p>
-
-<p>When I reached the hall, or whatever might be the celestial name for the
-entrance room below, I did not immediately see my father, but I heard
-the sound of voices beyond, and perceived the presence of many people in
-the house. As I hesitated, wondering what might be the etiquette of
-these new conditions, and whether I should be expected to play the
-hostess at a reception of angels or saints, some one came up from behind
-me, I think, and held out his hand in silence.</p>
-
-<p>“St. Johns!” I cried, “Jamie St. Johns! The last time I saw <i>you</i>”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a>{131}</span>&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“The last time you saw me was in a field-hospital after the battle of
-Malvern Hills,” said St. Johns. “I died in your arms, Miss Mary. Shot
-flew about you while you got me that last cup of water. I died hard. You
-sang the hymn I asked for&mdash;‘Ye who tossed on beds of pain’&mdash;and the
-shell struck the tent-pole twenty feet off, but you sang right on. I was
-afraid you would stop. I was almost gone. But you never faltered. You
-sang my soul out&mdash;do you remember? I’ve been watching all this while for
-you. I’ve been a pretty busy man since I got to this place, but I’ve
-always found time to run in and ask your father when he expected you.</p>
-
-<p>“I meant to be the first all along; but I hear there’s a girl got ahead
-of me. She’s here, too, and some more women. But most of us are the
-boys, to-night, Miss Mary,&mdash;come to give you a sort of
-house-warming&mdash;just to say we’ve never forgotten!... and you see we want
-to say ‘Welcome home at last’ to <i>our</i> army woman&mdash;God bless her&mdash;as she
-blessed us!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a>{132}</span></p>
-
-<p>“Come in, Miss Mary! Don’t feel bashful. It’s nobody but your own boys.
-Here we are. There’s a thing I remember&mdash;you used to read it. ‘<i>For when
-ye fail</i>’&mdash;you know I never could quote straight&mdash;‘<i>they shall receive
-you into everlasting habitations</i>’&mdash;Wasn’t that it? Now here. See! Count
-us! <i>Not one missing</i>, do you see? You said you’d have us all here
-yet&mdash;all that died before you did. You used to tell us so. You prayed
-it, and you lived it, and you did it, and, by His everlasting mercy,
-here we are. Look us over. Count again. I couldn’t make a speech on
-earth and I can’t make one in Heaven&mdash;but the fellows put me up to it.
-<i>Come</i> in, Miss Mary! <i>Dear</i> Miss Mary&mdash;why, we want to shake hands with
-you, all around! We want to sit and tell army-stories half the night. We
-want to have some of the old songs, and&mdash;What! Crying, Miss
-Mary?&mdash;<i>You?</i> We never saw you cry in all our lives. Your lip used to
-tremble. You got pretty white; but you weren’t that kind of woman. Oh,
-see here! <i>Crying</i> in <span class="smcap">Heaven</span>?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a>{133}</span>&mdash;</p>
-
-<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">From</span> this time, the events which I am trying to relate began to assume
-in fact a much more orderly course; yet in form I scarcely find them
-more easy to present. Narrative, as has been said of conversation, “is
-always but a selection,” and in this case the peculiar difficulties of
-choosing from an immense mass of material that which can be most fitly
-compressed into the compass allowed me by these few pages, are so great,
-that I have again and again laid down my task in despair; only to be
-urged on by my conviction that it is more clearly my duty to speak what
-may carry comfort to the hearts of some, than to worry because my
-imperfect manner of expression may offend the heads of others. All I can
-presume to hope for this record of an experience is, that it may have a
-passing value to certain of my readers whose anticipations of what they
-call<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a>{134}</span> “the Hereafter” are so vague or so dubious as to be more of a pain
-than a pleasure to themselves.</p>
-
-<p>From the time of my reception into my father’s house, I lost the sense
-of homelessness which had more or less possessed me since my entrance
-upon the new life, and felt myself becoming again a member of an
-organized society, with definite duties as well as assured pleasures
-before me.</p>
-
-<p>These duties I did not find astonishingly different in their essence,
-while they had changed greatly in form, from those which had occupied me
-upon earth. I found myself still involved in certain filial and domestic
-responsibilities, in intellectual acquisition, in the moral support of
-others, and in spiritual self-culture. I found myself a member of an
-active community in which not a drone nor an invalid could be counted,
-and I quickly became, like others who surrounded me, an exceedingly busy
-person. At first my occupations did not assume sharp professional
-distinctiveness, but had rather the character of such as would belong to
-one in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a>{135}</span> training for a more cultivated condition. This seemed to be true
-of many of my fellow-citizens; that they were still in a state of
-education for superior usefulness or happiness. With others, as I have
-intimated, it was not so. My father’s business, for instance, remained
-what it had always been&mdash;that of a religious teacher; and I met women
-and men as well, to whom, as in the case of my old neighbor, Mrs.
-Mersey, there had been set apart an especial fellowship with the spirits
-of the recently dead or still living, who had need of great guidance. I
-soon formed, by observation, at least, the acquaintance, too, of a wide
-variety of natures;&mdash;I met artisans and artists, poets and scientists,
-people of agricultural pursuits, mechanical inventors, musicians,
-physicians, students, tradesmen, aerial messengers to the earth, or to
-other planets, and a long list besides, that would puzzle more than it
-would enlighten, should I attempt to describe it. I mention these
-points, which I have no space to amplify, mainly to give reality to any
-allusions that I shall make to my relations in the heavenly city, and to
-let it be understood<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a>{136}</span> that I speak of a community as organized and as
-various as Paris or New York; which possessed all the advantages and
-none of the evils that we are accustomed to associate with massed
-population; that such a community existed without sorrow, without
-sickness, without death, without anxiety, and without sin; that the
-evidences of almost incredible harmony, growth, and happiness which I
-saw before me in that one locality, I had reason to believe extended to
-uncounted others in unknown regions, thronging with joys and activities
-the mysteries of space and time.</p>
-
-<p>For reasons which will be made clear as I approach the end of my
-narrative, I cannot speak as fully of many high and marvelous matters in
-the eternal life, as I wish that I might have done. I am giving
-impressions which, I am keenly aware, have almost the imperfection of a
-broken dream. I can only crave from the reader, on trust, a patience
-which he may be more ready to grant me at a later time.</p>
-
-<p>I now began, as I say, to assume regular duties and pleasures; among the
-keenest of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a>{137}</span> latter was the constant meeting of old friends and
-acquaintances. Much perplexity, great delight, and some disappointment
-awaited me in these <i>dénouements</i> of earthly story.</p>
-
-<p>The people whom I had naturally expected to meet earliest were often
-longest delayed from crossing my path; in some cases, they were
-altogether missing. Again, I was startled by coming in contact with
-individuals that I had never associated, in my conceptions of the
-future, with a spiritual existence at all; in these cases I was
-sometimes humbled by discovering a type of spiritual character so far
-above my own, that my fancies in their behalf proved to be unwarrantable
-self-sufficiency. Social life in the heavenly world, I soon learned, was
-a series of subtle or acute surprises. It sometimes reminded me of a
-simile of George Eliot’s, wherein she likened human existence to a game
-of chess in which each one of the pieces had intellect and passions, and
-the player might be beaten by his own pawns. The element of
-unexpectedness, which constitutes the first and yet the most unreliable
-charm of earthly society, had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a>{138}</span> here acquired a permanent dignity. One of
-the most memorable things which I observed about heavenly relations was,
-that people did not, in the degree or way to which I was accustomed,
-tire of each other. Attractions, to begin with, were less lightly
-experienced; their hold was deeper; their consequences more lasting. I
-had not been under my new conditions long, before I learned that here
-genuine feeling was never suffered to fall a sacrifice to intellectual
-curiosity, or emotional caprice; that here one had at last the stimulus
-of social attrition without its perils, its healthy pleasures without
-its pains. I learned, of course, much else, which it is more than
-difficult, and some things which it is impossible, to explain. I testify
-only of what I am permitted.</p>
-
-<p>Among the intellectual labors that I earliest undertook was the command
-of the Universal Language, which I soon found necessary to my
-convenience. In a community like that I had entered, many nationalities
-were represented, and I observed that while each retained its own
-familiar earthly tongue, and one had the pleasant<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a>{139}</span> opportunity of
-acquiring as many others as one chose, yet a common vocabulary became a
-desideratum of which, indeed, no one was compelled to avail himself
-contrary to his taste, but in which many, like myself, found the
-greatest pleasure and profit. The command of this language occupied much
-well-directed time.</p>
-
-<p>I should not omit to say that a portion of my duty and my privilege
-consisted in renewed visits to the dearly-loved whom I had left upon the
-earth. These visits were sometimes matters of will with me. Again, they
-were strictly occasions of permission, and again, I was denied the power
-to make them when I most deeply desired to do so. Herein I learned the
-difference between trial and trouble, and that while the last was
-stricken out of heavenly life, the first distinctly remained. It is
-pleasant to me to remember that I was allowed to be of more than a
-little comfort to those who mourned for me; that it was I who guided
-them from despair to endurance, and so through peace to cheerfulness,
-and the hearty renewal of daily human content. These visits were for a
-long<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a>{140}</span> time&mdash;excepting the rare occasions on which I met Him who had
-spoken to me upon the sea-shore&mdash;the deepest delight which was offered
-me.</p>
-
-<p>Upon one point I foresee that I shall be questioned by those who have
-had the patience so far to follow my recital. What, it will be asked,
-was the political constitution of the community you describe? What place
-in celestial society has worldly caste?</p>
-
-<p>When I say, strictly none at all, let me not be misunderstood. I
-observed the greatest varieties of rank in the celestial kingdom, which
-seemed to me rather a close Theocracy than a wild commune. There were
-powers above me, and powers below; there were natural and harmonious
-social selections; there were laws and their officers; there was
-obedience and its dignity; there was influence and its authority; there
-were gifts and their distinctions. I may say that I found far more
-reverence for differences of rank or influence than I was used to
-seeing, at least in my own corner of the earth. The main point was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a>{141}</span> that
-the basis of the whole thing had undergone a tremendous change.
-Inheritance, wealth, intellect, genius, beauty, all the old passports to
-power, were replaced by one so simple yet so autocratic, that I hardly
-know how to give any idea at once of its dignity and its sweetness. I
-may call this personal holiness. Position, in the new life, I found
-depended upon spiritual claims. Distinction was the result of character.
-The nature nearest to the Divine Nature ruled the social forces.
-Spiritual culture was the ultimate test of individual importance.</p>
-
-<p>I inquired one day for a certain writer of world-wide&mdash;I mean of
-earth-wide&mdash;celebrity, who, I had learned, was a temporary visitor in
-the city, and whom I wished to meet. I will not for sufficient reasons
-mention the name of this man, who had been called the genius of his
-century, below. I had anticipated that a great ovation would be given
-him, in which I desired to join, and I was surprised that his presence
-made little or no stir in our community. Upon investigating the facts, I
-learned that his public influence was, so far, but a slight one,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a>{142}</span> though
-it had gradually gained, and was likely to increase with time. He had
-been a man whose splendid powers were dedicated to the temporary and
-worldly aspects of Truth, whose private life was selfish and cruel, who
-had written the most famous poem of his age, but “by all his searching”
-had not found out God.</p>
-
-<p>In the conditions of the eternal life, this genius had been obliged to
-set itself to learning the alphabet of spiritual truth; he was still a
-pupil, rather than a master among us, and I was told that he himself
-ardently objected to receiving a deference which was not as yet his due;
-having set the might of his great nature as strenuously now to the
-spiritual, as once to the intellectual task; in which, I must say, I was
-not without expectation that he would ultimately outvie us all.</p>
-
-<p>On the same day when this distinguished man entered and left our city
-(having quietly accomplished his errand), I heard the confusion of some
-public excitement at a distance, and hastening to see what it meant, I
-discovered that the object of it was a plain, I thought in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a>{143}</span> her earthly
-life she must have been a poor woman, obscure, perhaps, and timid. The
-people pressed towards her, and received her into the town by
-acclamation. They crowned her with amaranth and flung lilies in her
-path. The authorities of the city officially met her; the people of
-influence hastened to beseech her to do honor to their homes by her
-modest presence; we crowded for a sight of her, we begged for a word
-from her, we bewildered her with our tributes, till she hid her blushing
-face and was swept out of our sight.</p>
-
-<p>“But who is this,” I asked an eager passer, “to whom such an
-extraordinary reception is tendered? I have seen nothing like it since I
-came here.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is it possible you do not know &mdash;&mdash; &mdash;&mdash;?”</p>
-
-<p>My informant gave a name which indeed was not unfamiliar to me; it was
-that of a woman who had united to extreme beauty of private character,
-and a high type of faith in invisible truths, life-long devotion to an
-unpopular philanthropy. She had never been called a “great” woman on
-earth. Her influence had not been large. Her cause had never been<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a>{144}</span> the
-fashion, while she herself was living. Society had never amused itself
-by adopting her, even to the extent of a parlor lecture. Her name, so
-far as it was familiar to the public at all, had been the synonym of a
-poor zealot, a plain fanatic, to be tolerated for her conscientiousness
-and&mdash;avoided for her earnestness. Since her death, the humane
-consecration which she represented had marched on like a conquering army
-over her grave. Earth, of which she was not worthy, had known her too
-late. Heaven was proud to do honor to the spiritual foresight and
-sustained self-denial, as royal as it was rare.</p>
-
-<p>I remember, also, being deeply touched by a sight upon which I chanced,
-one morning, when I was strolling about the suburbs of the city, seeking
-the refreshment of solitude before the duties of the day began. For,
-while I was thus engaged, I met our Master, suddenly. He was busily
-occupied with others, and, beyond the deep recognition of His smile, I
-had no converse with Him. He was followed at a little distance, as He
-was apt to be, by a group of playing children; but He was in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a>{145}</span> close
-communion with two whom I saw to be souls newly-arrived from the lower
-life. One of these was a man&mdash;I should say he had been a rough man, and
-had come out of a rude life&mdash;who conversed with Him eagerly but
-reverently, as they walked on towards the town. Upon the other side, our
-Lord held with His own hand the hand of a timid, trembling woman, who
-scarcely dared raise her eyes from the ground; now and then she drew His
-garment’s edge furtively to her lips, and let it fall again, with the
-slow motion of one who is in a dream of ecstasy. These two people, I
-judged, had no connection with each other beyond the fact that they were
-simultaneous new-comers to the new country, and had, perhaps, both borne
-with them either special need or merit, I could hardly decide which. I
-took occasion to ask a neighbor, an old resident of the city, and wise
-in its mysteries, what he supposed to be the explanation of the scene
-before us, and why these two were so distinguished by the favor of Him
-whose least glance made holiday in the soul of any one of us. It was
-then explained<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a>{146}</span> to me, that the man about whom I had inquired was the
-hero of a great calamity, with which the lower world was at present
-occupied. One of the most frightful railway accidents of this generation
-had been averted, and the lives of four hundred helpless passengers
-saved, by the sublime sacrifice of this locomotive engineer, who died
-(it will be remembered) a death of voluntary and unique torture to save
-his train. All that could be said of the tragedy was that it held the
-essence of self-sacrifice in a form seldom attained by man. At the
-moment I saw this noble fellow, he had so immediately come among us that
-the expression of physical agony had hardly yet died out of his face,
-and his eye still blazed with the fire of his tremendous deed.</p>
-
-<p>“But who is the woman?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>“She was a delicate creature&mdash;sick&mdash;died of the fright and shock; the
-only passenger on the train who did not escape.”</p>
-
-<p>I inquired why she too was thus preferred; what glorious deed had she
-done, to make her so dear to the Divine Heart?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a>{147}</span></p>
-
-<p>“She? Ah, she,” said my informant, “was only one of the household
-saints. She had been notable among celestial observers for many years.
-You know the type I mean&mdash;shy, silent&mdash;never thinks of herself, scarcely
-knows she has a self&mdash;toils, drudges, endures, prays; expects nothing of
-her friends, and gives all; hopes for little, even from her Lord, but
-surrenders everything; full of religious ideals, not all of them
-theoretically wise, but practically noble; a woman ready to be cut to
-inch pieces for her faith in an invisible Love that has never apparently
-given her anything in particular. Oh, you know the kind of woman: has
-never had anything of her own, in all her life&mdash;not even her own
-room&mdash;and a whole family adore her without knowing it, and lean upon her
-like infants without seeing it. We have been watching for this woman’s
-coming. We knew there would be an especial greeting for her. But nobody
-thought of her accompanying the engineer. Come! Shall we not follow, and
-see how they will be received? If I am not mistaken, it will be a great
-day in the city.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a>{148}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Among</span> the inquiries that must be raised by my fragmentary recital, I am
-only too keenly aware of the difficulty of answering one which I do not
-see my way altogether to ignore. I refer to that affecting the domestic
-relations of the eternal world.</p>
-
-<p>It will be readily seen that I might not be permitted to share much of
-the results of my observation in this direction, with earthly curiosity,
-or even earthly anxiety. It is not without thought and prayer for close
-guidance that I suffer myself to say, in as few words as possible, that
-I found the unions which go to form heavenly homes so different from the
-marriage relations of earth, in their laws of selection and government,
-that I quickly understood the meaning of our Lord’s few revealed words
-as to that matter; while yet I do not find myself at liberty to explain
-either the words or the facts.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a>{149}</span> I think I cannot be wrong in adding,
-that in a number of cases, so great as to astonish me, the marriages of
-earth had no historic effect upon the ties of Heaven. Laws of
-affiliation uniting soul to soul in a relation infinitely closer than a
-bond, and more permanent than any which the average human experience
-would lead to if it were socially a free agent, controlled the
-attractions of this pure and happy life, in a manner of which I can only
-say that it must remain a mystery to the earthly imagination. I have
-intimated that in some cases the choices of time were so blessed as to
-become the choices of Eternity. I may say, that if I found it lawful to
-utter the impulse of my soul, I should cry throughout the breadth of the
-earth a warning to the lightness, or the haste, or the presumption, or
-the mistake that chose to love for one world, when it might have loved
-for two.</p>
-
-<p>For, let me say most solemnly, that the relations made between man and
-woman on earth I found to be, in importance to the individual, second to
-nothing in the range of human experience,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a>{150}</span> save the adjustment of the
-soul to the Personality of God Himself.</p>
-
-<p>If I say that I found earthly marriage to have been a temporary
-expedient for preserving the form of the eternal fact; that freedom in
-this as in all other things became in Heaven the highest law; that the
-great sea of human misery, swelled by the passion of love on earth,
-shall evaporate to the last drop in the blaze of bliss to which no human
-counterpart can approach any nearer than a shadow to the sun,&mdash;I may be
-understood by those for whose sake alone it is worth while to allude to
-this mystery at all; for the rest it matters little.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps I should say, once for all, that every form of pure pleasure or
-happiness which had existed upon the earth had existed as a type of a
-greater. Our divinest hours below had been scarcely more than
-suggestions of their counterparts above. I do not expect to be
-understood. It must only be remembered that, in all instances, the
-celestial life develops the soul of a thing. When I speak of eating and
-drinking, for instance, I do not mean that we<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a>{151}</span> cooked and prepared our
-food as we do below. The elements of nutrition continued to exist for us
-as they had in the earth, the air, the water, though they were available
-without drudgery or anxiety. Yet I mean distinctly that the sense of
-taste remained, that it was gratified at need, that it was a finer one
-and gave a keener pleasure than its coarser prototype below. I mean that
-the <i>soul of a sense</i> is a more exquisite thing than what we may call
-the body of the sense, as developed to earthly consciousness.</p>
-
-<p>So far from there being any diminution in the number or power of the
-senses in the spiritual life, I found not only an acuter intensity in
-those which we already possessed, but that the effect of our new
-conditions was to create others of whose character we had never dreamed.
-To be sure, wise men had forecast the possibility of this fact,
-differing among themselves even as to the accepted classification of
-what they had, as Scaliger who called speech the sixth sense, or our
-English contemporary who included heat and force in his list<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a>{152}</span> (also of
-six); or more imaginative men who had admitted the conceivability of
-inconceivable powers in an order of being beyond the human. Knowing a
-little of these speculations, I was not so much surprised at the facts
-as overwhelmed by their extent and variety. Yet if I try to explain
-them, I am met by an almost insurmountable obstacle.</p>
-
-<p>It is well known that missionaries are often thwarted in their religious
-labors by the absence in savage tongues of any words corresponding to
-certain ideas such as that of purity or unselfishness. Philologists have
-told us of one African tribe in whose language exist six different words
-descriptive of murder; none whatever expressive of love. In another no
-such word as gratitude can be found. Perhaps no illustration can better
-serve to indicate the impediments which bar the way to my describing to
-beings who possess but five senses and their corresponding imaginative
-culture, the habits or enjoyments consequent upon the development of ten
-senses or fifteen. I am allowed to say as much as this: that the growth<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a>{153}</span>
-of these celestial powers was variable with individuals throughout the
-higher world, or so much of it as I became acquainted with. It will be
-readily seen what an illimitable scope for anticipation or achievement
-is given to daily life by such an evolution of the nature. It should be
-carefully remembered that this serves only as a single instance of the
-exuberance of what we call everlasting life.</p>
-
-<p>Below, I remember that I used sometimes to doubt the possibility of
-one’s being happy forever under any conditions, and had moods in which I
-used to question the value of endless existence. I wish most earnestly
-to say, that before I had been in Heaven days, Eternity did not seem
-long enough to make room for the growth of character, the growth of
-mind, the variety of enjoyment and employment, and the increase of
-usefulness that practically constituted immortality.</p>
-
-<p>It could not have been long after my arrival at my father’s house that
-he took me with him to the great music hall of our city. It was my first
-attendance at any one of the public<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a>{154}</span> festivals of these happy people,
-and one long to be treasured in thought. It was, in fact, nothing less
-than the occasion of a visit by Beethoven, and the performance of a new
-oratorio of his own, which he conducted in person. Long before the
-opening hour the streets of the city were thronged. People with holiday
-expressions poured in from the country. It was a gala-day with all the
-young folks especially, much as such matters go below. A beautiful thing
-which I noticed was the absence of all personal insistence in the crowd.
-The weakest, or the saddest, or the most timid, or those who, for any
-reason, had the more need of this great pleasure, were selected by their
-neighbors and urged on into the more desirable positions. The music
-hall, so-called, was situated upon a hill just outside the town, and
-consisted of an immense roof supported by rose-colored marble pillars.
-There were no walls to the building, so that there was the effect of
-being no limit to the audience, which extended past the line of
-luxuriously covered seats provided for them, upon the grass, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a>{155}</span> even
-into the streets leading to the city. So perfect were what we should
-call below the telephonic arrangement of the community, that those who
-remained in their own homes or pursued their usual avocations were not
-deprived of the music. My impressions are that every person in the city,
-who desired to put himself in communication with it, heard the oratorio;
-but I am not familiar with the system by which this was effected. It
-involved a high advance in the study of acoustics, and was one of the
-things which I noted to be studied at a wiser time.</p>
-
-<p>Many distinguished persons known to you below, were present, some from
-our own neighborhood, and others guests of the city. It was delightful
-to observe the absence of all jealousy or narrow criticism among
-themselves, and also the reverence with which their superiority was
-regarded by the less gifted. Every good or great thing seemed to be so
-heartily shared with every being capable of sharing it, and all personal
-gifts to become material for such universal pride, that one experienced<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a>{156}</span>
-a kind of transport at the elevation of the public character.</p>
-
-<p>I remembered how it used to be below, when I was present at some musical
-festival in the familiar hall where the bronze statue of Beethoven,
-behind the sea of sound, stood calmly. How he towered above our poor
-unfinished story! As we grouped there, sitting each isolated with his
-own thirst, brought to be slaked or excited by the flood of music;
-drinking down into our frivolity or our despair the outlet of that
-mighty life, it used to seem to me that I heard, far above the passion
-of the orchestra, his own high words,&mdash;his own music made
-articulate,&mdash;“<i>I go to meet Death with joy.</i>”</p>
-
-<p>When there came upon the people in that heavenly audience-room a stir,
-like the rustling of a dead leaf upon crusted snow; when the stir grew
-to a solemn murmur; when the murmur ran into a lofty cry; when I saw
-that the orchestra, the chorus, and the audience had risen like one
-breathless man, and knew that Beethoven stood before us, the light of
-day<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a>{157}</span> darkened for that instant before me. The prelude was well under
-way, I think, before I dared lift my eyes to his face.</p>
-
-<p>The great tide swept me on. When upon earth had he created sound like
-this? Where upon earth had we heard its like? There he is, one listening
-nerve from head to foot, he who used to stand deaf in the middle of his
-own orchestra&mdash;desolate no more, denied no more forever, all the
-heavenly senses possible to Beethoven awake to the last delicate
-response; all the solemn faith in the invisible, in the holy, which he
-had made his own, triumphant now; all the powers of his mighty nature in
-action like a rising storm&mdash;there stands Beethoven immortally alive.</p>
-
-<p>What knew we of music, I say, who heard its earthly prototype? It was
-but the tuning of the instruments before the eternal orchestra shall
-sound. Soul! swing yourself free upon this mighty current. Of what will
-Beethoven tell us whom he dashes on like drops?</p>
-
-<p>As the pæan rises, I bow my life to understand. What would he with us
-whom God<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a>{158}</span> chose to make Beethoven everlastingly? What is the burden of
-this master’s message, given now in Heaven, as once on earth? Do we hear
-aright? Do we read the score correctly?</p>
-
-<p>“Holy&mdash;holy”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>A chorus of angel voices, trained since the time when morning stars sang
-together with the sons of God, take up the words:</p>
-
-<p>“Holy, <i>holy</i>, <small>HOLY</small> is the Lord.”</p>
-
-<p class="cspc">. . . . . . . . .</p>
-
-<p>When the oratorio has ended, and we glide out, each hushed as a hidden
-thought, to his own ways, I stay beneath a linden-tree to gather breath.
-A fine sound, faint as the music of a dream, strikes my ringing ears,
-and, looking up, I see that the leaf above my head is singing. Has it,
-too, been one of the great chorus yonder? Did he command the forces of
-nature, as he did the seraphs of Heaven, or the powers of earth?</p>
-
-<p>The strain falls away slowly from the lips of the leaf:</p>
-
-<p>“Holy, holy, holy,”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>It trembles, and is still.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a>{159}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">That</span> which it is permitted me to relate to you moves on swiftly before
-the thoughts, like the compression in the last act of a drama. The next
-scene which starts from the variousness of heavenly delight I find to be
-the Symphony of Color.</p>
-
-<p>There was a time in the history of art, below, when this, and similar
-phrases, had acquired almost a slang significance, owing to the
-affectation of their use by the shallow. I was, therefore, the more
-surprised at meeting a fact so lofty behind the guise of the familiar
-words; and noted it as but one of many instances in which the earthly
-had deteriorated from the ideals of the celestial life.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed that the development of color had reached a point never
-conceived of below, and that the treatment of it constituted an art by
-itself. By this I do not mean its treatment<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a>{160}</span> under the form of painting,
-decoration, dress, or any embodiment whatever. What we were called to
-witness was an exhibition of color, pure and simple.</p>
-
-<p>This occasion, of which I especially speak, was controlled by great
-colorists, some of earthly, some of heavenly renown. Not all of them
-were artists in the accepted sense of designers; among them were one or
-two select creatures in whom the passion of color had been remarkable,
-but, so far as the lower world was concerned, for the great part
-inactive, for want of any scientific means of expression.</p>
-
-<p>We have all known the <i>color natures</i>, and, if we have had a fine
-sympathy, have compassionated them as much as any upon earth, whether
-they were found among the disappointed disciples of Art itself, or
-hidden away in plain homes, where the paucity of existence held all the
-delicacy and the dream of life close prisoners.</p>
-
-<p>Among the managers of this Symphony I should say that I observed, at a
-distance, the form of Raphael. I heard it rumored that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a>{161}</span> Leonardo was
-present, but I did not see him. There was another celebrated artist
-engaged in the work, whose name I am not allowed to give. It was an
-unusual occasion, and had attracted attention at a distance. The
-Symphony did not take place in our own city, but in an adjacent town, to
-which our citizens, as well as those of other places, repaired in great
-numbers. We sat, I remember, in a luxurious coliseum, closely darkened.
-The building was circular in form; it was indeed a perfect globe, in
-whose centre, without touching anywhere the superficies, we were seated.
-Air without light entered freely, I know not how, and fanned our faces
-perpetually. Distant music appealed to the ear, without engaging it.
-Pleasures, which we could receive or dismiss at will, wandered by, and
-were assimilated by those extra senses which I have no means of
-describing. Whatever could be done to put soul and body in a state of
-ease so perfect as to admit of complete receptivity, and in a mood so
-high as to induce the loftiest interpretation of the purely æsthetic
-entertainment before us,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a>{162}</span> was done in the amazing manner characteristic
-of this country. I do not know that I had ever felt so keenly as on this
-occasion the delight taken by God in providing happiness for the
-children of His discipline and love. We had suffered so much, some of
-us, below, that it did not seem natural, at first, to accept sheer
-pleasure as an end in and of itself. But I learned that this, like many
-other fables in Heaven, had no moral. Live! Be! Do! Be glad! Because He
-lives, ye live also. Grow! Gain! Achieve! Hope! <i>That</i> is to glorify Him
-and enjoy Him forever. Having fought&mdash;rest. Having trusted&mdash;know. Having
-endured&mdash;enjoy. Being safe&mdash;venture. Being pure&mdash;fear not to be
-sensitive. Being in harmony with the Soul of all delights&mdash;dare to
-indulge thine own soul to the brim therein. Having acquired
-holiness&mdash;thou hast no longer any broken law to fear. Dare to be happy.
-This was the spirit of daily life among us. “Nothing was required of us
-but to be natural,” as I have said before. And it “was natural to be
-right,” thank God, at last.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a>{163}</span></p>
-
-<p>Being a new-comer, and still so unlearned, I could not understand the
-Color Symphony as many of the spectators did, while yet I enjoyed it
-intensely, as an untaught musical organization may enjoy the most
-complicated composition. I think it was one of the most stimulating
-sights I ever saw, and my ambition to master this new art flashed fire
-at once.</p>
-
-<p>Slowly, as we sat silent, at the centre of that great white globe&mdash;it
-was built of porphyry, I think, or some similar substance&mdash;there began
-to breathe upon the surface pure light. This trembled and deepened, till
-we were enclosed in a sphere of white fire. This I perceived, to
-scholars in the science of color, signified distinct thought, as a grand
-chord does to the musician. Thus it was with the hundred effects which
-followed. White light quivered into pale blue. Blue struggled with
-violet. Gold and orange parted. Green and gray and crimson glided on.
-Rose&mdash;the living rose&mdash;blushed upon us, and faltered
-under&mdash;over&mdash;yonder, till we were shut into a world of it, palpitating.
-It was as if we had gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a>{164}</span> behind the soul of a woman’s blush, or the
-meaning of a sunrise. Whoever has known the passion for that color will
-understand why some of the spectators were with difficulty restrained
-from flinging themselves down into it, as into a sea of rapture.</p>
-
-<p>There were others more affected by the purple, and even by the scarlet;
-some, again, by the delicate tints in which was the color of the sun,
-and by colors which were hints rather than expressions. Marvelous
-modifications of rays set in. They had their laws, their chords, their
-harmonies, their scales; they carried their melodies and “execution;”
-they had themes and ornamentation. Each combination had its meaning. The
-trained eye received it, as the trained ear receives orchestra or
-oratory. The senses melted, but the intellect was astir. A perfect
-composition of color unto color was before us, exquisite in detail,
-magnificent in mass. Now it seemed as if we ourselves, sitting there
-ensphered in color, flew around the globe with the quivering rays. Now
-as if we sank into endless sleep with reposing tints;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a>{165}</span> now as if we
-drank of color; then as if we dreamed it; now as if we felt it&mdash;clasped
-it; then as if we heard it. We were taken into the heart of it; into the
-mystery of the June sky, and the grass-blade, the blue-bell, the child’s
-cheek, the cloud at sunset, the snowdrift at twilight. The apple-blossom
-told us its secret, and the down on the pigeon’s neck, and the plume of
-the rose-curlew, and the robin’s-egg, and the hair of blonde women, and
-the scarlet passion-flower, and the mist over everglades, and the power
-of a dark eye.</p>
-
-<p>It may be remembered that I have alluded once to the rainbow which I saw
-soon after reaching the new life, and that I raised a question at the
-time as to the number of rays exhibited in the celestial prism. As I
-watched the Symphony, I became convinced that the variety of colors
-unquestionably far exceeded those with which we were familiar on earth.
-The Indian occultists indeed had long urged that they saw fourteen tints
-in the prism; this was the dream of the mystic, who, by a tremendous
-system of education, claims to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a>{166}</span> subjected the body to the soul, so
-that the ordinary laws of nature yield to his control. Physicists had
-also taught us that the laws of optics involved the necessity of other
-colors beyond those whose rays were admissible by our present vision;
-this was the assertion of that science which is indebted more largely to
-the imagination than the worshiper of the Fact has yet arisen from his
-prone posture high enough to see.</p>
-
-<p>Now, indeed, I had the truth before me. Colors which no artist’s
-palette, no poet’s rapture knew, played upon optic nerves exquisitely
-trained to receive such effects, and were appropriated by other senses
-empowered to share them in a manner which human language supplies me
-with no verb or adjective to express.</p>
-
-<p>As we journeyed home after the Symphony, I was surprised to find how
-calming had been the effect of its intense excitement. Without fever of
-pulse or rebel fancy or wearied nerve, I looked about upon the peaceful
-country. I felt ready for any duty. I was strong for all deprivation. I
-longed to live more purely. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a>{167}</span> prayed to live more unselfishly. I
-greatly wished to share the pleasure, with which I had been blessed,
-with some denied soul. I thought of uneducated people, and coarse
-people, who had yet to be trained to so many of the highest varieties of
-happiness. I thought of sick people, all their earthly lives invalids,
-recently dead, and now free to live. I wished that I had sought some of
-these out, and taken them with me to the Symphony.</p>
-
-<p>It was a rare evening, even in the blessed land. I enjoyed the change of
-scene as I used to do in traveling, below. It was delightful to look
-abroad and see everywhere prosperity and peace. The children were
-shouting and tumbling in the fields. Young people strolled laughing by
-twos or in groups. The vigorous men and women busied themselves or
-rested at the doors of cosy homes. The ineffable landscape of hill and
-water stretched on behind the human foreground. Nowhere a chill or a
-blot; nowhere a tear or a scowl, a deformity, a disability, or an evil
-passion. There was no flaw in the picture. There was no error in the
-fact.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a>{168}</span> I felt that I was among a perfectly happy people. I said, “I am
-in a holy world.”</p>
-
-<p>The next day was a Holy Day; we of the earth still called it the
-Sabbath, from long habit. I remember an especial excitement on that Holy
-Day following the Color Symphony, inasmuch as we assembled to be
-instructed by one whom, above all other men that had ever lived on
-earth, I should have taken most trouble to hear. This was no other than
-St. John the Apostle.</p>
-
-<p>I remember that we held the service in the open air, in the fields
-beyond the city, for “there was no Temple therein.” The Beloved Disciple
-stood above us, on the rising ground. It would be impossible to forget,
-but it is well-nigh impossible to describe, the appearance of the
-preacher. I think he had the most sensitive face I ever saw in any man;
-yet his dignity was unapproachable. He had a ringing voice of remarkable
-sweetness, and great power of address. He seemed more divested of
-himself than any orator I had heard. He poured his personality out upon
-us, like one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a>{169}</span> forces of nature, as largely, and as unconsciously.</p>
-
-<p>He taught us much. He reasoned of mysteries over which we had pored
-helplessly all our lives below. He explained intricate points in the
-plan of human life. He touched upon the perplexities of religious faith.
-He cast a great light backward over the long, dim way by which we had
-crept to our present blessedness. He spoke to us of our deadliest
-doubts. He confirmed for us our patient belief. He made us ashamed of
-our distrust and our restlessness. He left us eager for faith. He gave
-vigor to our spiritual ideals. He spoke to us of the love of God, as the
-light speaks of the sun. He revealed to us how we had misunderstood Him.
-Our souls cried out within us, as we remembered our errors. We gathered
-ourselves like soldiers as we knew our possibilities. We swayed in his
-hands as the bough sways in the wind. Each man looked at his neighbor as
-one whose eyes ask: “Have I wronged thee? Let me atone.” “Can I serve
-thee? Show me how.” All our spiritual life<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a>{170}</span> arose like an athlete, to
-exercise itself; we sought hard tasks; we aspired for far prizes; we
-turned to our daily lives like new-created beings; so truly we had kept
-Holy Day. When the discourse was over, there followed an anthem sung by
-a choir of child-angels hovering in mid-air above the preacher, and
-beautiful exceedingly to the sight and to the ear. “God,” they sang, “is
-Love&mdash;<i>is</i> Love&mdash;is <span class="smcap">Love</span>.” In the refrain we joined with our own awed
-voices.</p>
-
-<p>The chant died away. All the air of all the worlds was still. The
-beloved Disciple raised his hand in solemn signal. A majestic Form
-glided to his side. To whom should the fisherman of Galilee turn with a
-look like <i>that</i>? Oh, grace of God! what a smile was there! The Master
-and Disciple stand together; they rise above us. See! He falls upon his
-knees before that Other. So we also, sinking to our own, hide our very
-faces from the sight.</p>
-
-<p>Our Lord steps forth, and stands alone. To us in glory, as to them of
-old in sorrow, He is the God made manifest. We do not lift our<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a>{171}</span> bowed
-heads, but we feel that He has raised His piercéd hands above us, and
-that His own lips call down the Benediction of His Father upon our
-eternal lives.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a>{172}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">My</span> father had been absent from home a great deal, taking journeys with
-whose object he did not acquaint me. I myself had not visited the earth
-for some time; I cannot say how long. I do not find it possible to
-divide heavenly time by an earthly calendar, and cannot even decide how
-much of an interval, by human estimates, had been indeed covered by my
-residence in the Happy Country, as described upon these pages.</p>
-
-<p>My duties had called me in other directions, and I had been exceedingly
-busy. My father sometimes spoke of our dear hearts at home, and reported
-them as all well; but he was not communicative about them. I observed
-that he took more pains than usual, or I should say more pleasure than
-usual, in the little domestic cares of our heavenly home. Never had it
-been in more perfect condition. The garden<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a>{173}</span> and the grounds were looking
-exquisitely. All the trifling comforts or ornaments of the house were to
-his mind. We talked of them much, and wandered about in our leisure
-moments, altering or approving details. I did my best to make him happy,
-but my own heart told me how lonely he must be despite me. We talked
-less of her coming than we used to do. I felt that he had accepted the
-separation with the unquestioning spirit which one gains so deeply in
-Heaven; and that he was content, as one who trusted, still to wait.</p>
-
-<p>One evening, I came home slowly and alone. My father had been away for
-some days. I had been passing several hours with some friends, who, with
-myself, had been greatly interested in an event of public importance. A
-messenger was needed to carry certain tidings to a great astronomer,
-known to us of old on earth, who was at that time busied in research in
-a distant planet. It was a desirable embassy, and many sought the
-opportunity for travel and culture which it gave. After some delay in
-the appointment, it was given to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a>{174}</span> person but just arrived from below:
-a woman not two days dead. This surprised me till I had inquired into
-the circumstances, when I learned that the new-comer had been on earth
-an extreme sufferer, bed-ridden for forty years. Much of this time she
-had been unable even to look out of doors. The airs of Heaven had been
-shut from her darkened chamber. For years she had not been able to
-sustain conversation with her own friends, except on rare occasions.
-Possessed of a fine mind, she had been unable to read, or even to bear
-the human voice in reading. Acute pain had tortured her days.
-Sleeplessness had made horror of her nights. She was poor. She was
-dependent. She was of a refined organization. She was of a high spirit,
-and of energetic temperament. Medical science, holding out no cure,
-assured her that she might live to old age. She lived. When she was
-seventy-six years old, death remembered her. This woman had sometimes
-been inquired of, touching her faith in that Mystery which we call God.
-I was told that she gave but one answer; beyond<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a>{175}</span> this, revealing no more
-of experience than the grave itself, to which, more than to any other
-simile, her life could be likened.</p>
-
-<p>“Though He slay me,” she said, “I will trust.”</p>
-
-<p>“But, do you never doubt?”</p>
-
-<p>“I <i>will</i> trust.”</p>
-
-<p>To this rare spirit, set free at last and re-embodied, the commission of
-which I have spoken was delegated; no one in all the city grudged her
-its coveted advantages. A mighty shout rose in the public ways when the
-selection was made known. I should have thought she might become
-delirious with the sudden access of her freedom, but it was said that
-she received her fortune quietly, and, slipping out of sight, was away
-upon her errand before we saw her face.</p>
-
-<p>The incident struck me as a most impressive one, and I was occupied with
-it, as I walked home thoughtfully. Indeed, I was so absorbed that I went
-with my eyes cast down, and scarcely noticed when I had reached our own
-home. I did not glance at the house, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a>{176}</span> continued my way up the
-winding walk between the trees, still drowned in my reverie.</p>
-
-<p>It was a most peaceful evening. I felt about me the fine light at which
-I did not look; that evening glow was one of the new colors,&mdash;one of the
-heavenly colors that I find it impossible to depict. The dog came to
-meet me as usual; he seemed keenly excited, and would have hurried me
-into the house. I patted him absently as I strolled on.</p>
-
-<p>Entering the house with a little of the sense of loss which, even in the
-Happy World, accompanies the absence of those we love, and wondering
-when my father would be once more with me, I was startled at hearing his
-voice&mdash;no, voices; there were two; they came from an upper chamber, and
-the silent house echoed gently with their subdued words.</p>
-
-<p>I stood for a moment listening below; I felt the color flash out of my
-face; my heart stood still. I took a step or two
-forward&mdash;hesitated&mdash;advanced with something like fear. The dog pushed
-before me, and urged me to follow. After a moment’s thought I did so,
-resolutely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a>{177}</span></p>
-
-<p>The doors stood open everywhere, and the evening air blew in with a
-strong and wholesome force. No one had heard me. Guided by the voices of
-the unseen speakers I hurried on, across the hall, through my own room,
-and into that sacred spot I have spoken of, wherein for so many solitary
-years my dear father had made ready for her coming who was the joy of
-his joy, in Heaven, as she had been on earth.</p>
-
-<p>For that instant, I saw all the familiar details of the room in a blur
-of light. It was as if a sea of glory filled the place. Across it, out
-beyond the window, on the balcony which overlooked the hill-country and
-the sea, stood my father and my mother, hand in hand.</p>
-
-<p>She did not hear me, even yet. They were talking quietly, and were
-absorbed. Uncertain what to do, I might even have turned and left them
-undisturbed, so sacred seemed that hour of theirs to me; so separate in
-all the range of experience in either world, or any life. But her heart
-warned her, and she stirred, and so saw me&mdash;my dear mother&mdash;come to us,
-at last.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a>{178}</span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, what arms can gather like a mother’s, whether in earth or Heaven?
-Whose else could be those brooding touches, those raining tears, those
-half-inarticulate maternal words? And for her, too, the bitterness is
-passed, the blessedness begun. Oh, my dear mother! My dear mother! I
-thank God I was the child appointed to give you welcome&mdash;thus....</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p>“And how is it with Tom,&mdash;poor Tom!”</p>
-
-<p>“He has grown such a fine fellow; you cannot think. I leaned upon him.
-He was the comfort of my old age.”</p>
-
-<p>“Poor Tom!”</p>
-
-<p>“And promises to make such a man, dear! A good boy. No bad habits, yet.
-Your father is so pleased that he makes a scholar.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear Tom! And Alice?”</p>
-
-<p>“It was hard to leave Alice. But she is young. Life is before her. God
-is good.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you, my dearest, was it hard for you at the last? Was it a long
-sickness? Who took care of you? Mother! did you suffer <i>much</i>?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a>{179}</span></p>
-
-<p>“Dear, I never suffered any. I had a sudden stroke I think. I was
-sitting by the fire with the children. It was vacation and Tom was at
-home. They were all at home. I started to cross the room, and it grew
-dark. I did not know that I was dead till I found I was standing there
-upon the balcony, in your father’s arms.”</p>
-
-<p>“I had to tell her what had happened. She wouldn’t believe me at the
-first.”</p>
-
-<p>“Were you with her all the time below?”</p>
-
-<p>“All the time; for days before the end.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you brought her here yourself, easily?”</p>
-
-<p>“All the way, myself. She slept like a baby, and wakened&mdash;as she says.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a>{180}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">But</span> was it possible to feel desolate in Heaven? Life now filled to the
-horizon. Our business, our studies, and our pleasures occupied every
-moment. Every day new expedients of delight unfurled before us. Our
-conceptions of happiness increased faster than their realization. The
-imagination itself grew, as much as the aspiration. We saw height beyond
-height of joy, as we saw outline above outline of duty. How paltry
-looked our wildest earthly dream! How small our largest worldly deed!
-One would not have thought it possible that one could even want so much
-as one demanded here; or hope so far as one expected now.</p>
-
-<p>What possibilities stretched on; each leading to a larger, like
-newly-discovered stars, one beyond another; as the pleasure or the
-achievement took its place, the capacity for the next<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a>{181}</span> increased.
-Satiety or its synonyms passed out of our language, except as a
-reminiscence of the past. See, what were the conditions of this eternal
-problem. Given: a pure heart, perfect health, unlimited opportunity for
-usefulness, infinite chance of culture, home, friendship, love; the
-elimination from practical life of anxiety and separation; and the
-intense spiritual stimulus of the presence of our dear Master, through
-whom we approached the mystery of God&mdash;how incredible to anything short
-of experience the sum of happiness!</p>
-
-<p>I soon learned how large a part of our delight consisted in
-anticipation; since now we knew anticipation without alloy of fear. I
-thought much of the joys in store for me, which yet I was not perfected
-enough to attain. I looked onward to the perpetual meeting of old
-friends and acquaintances, both of the living and the dead; to the
-command of unknown languages, arts, and sciences, and knowledges
-manifold; to the grandeur of helping the weak, and revering the strong;
-to the privilege of guarding the erring or the tried, whether of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a>{182}</span> earth
-or heaven, and of sharing all attainable wisdom with the less wise, and
-of even instructing those too ignorant to know that they were not wise,
-and of ministering to the dying, and of assisting in bringing together
-the separated. I looked forward to meeting select natures, the
-distinguished of earth or Heaven; to reading history backward by contact
-with its actors, and settling its knotty points by their evidential
-testimony. Was I not in a world where Loyola, and Jeanne d’Arc, or
-Luther, or Arthur, could be asked questions?</p>
-
-<p>I would follow the experiments of great discoverers, since their advent
-to this place. What did Newton, and Columbus, and Darwin in the eternal
-life?</p>
-
-<p>I would keep pace with the development of art. To what standard had
-Michael Angelo been raising the public taste all these years?</p>
-
-<p>I would join the fragments of those private histories which had long
-been matter of public interest. Where, and whose now, was Vittoria
-Colonna?</p>
-
-<p>I would have the <i>finales</i> of the old Sacred<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a>{183}</span> stories. What use had been
-made of the impetuosity of Peter? What was the private life of Saint
-John? With what was the fine intellect of Paul now occupied? What was
-the charm in the Magdalene? In what sacred fields did the sweet nature
-of Ruth go gleaning? Did David write the new anthems for the celestial
-chorals? What was the attitude of Moses towards the Persistence of
-Force? Where was Judas? And did the Betrayed plead for the betrayer?</p>
-
-<p>I would study the sociology of this explanatory life. Where, if
-anywhere, were the Cave-men? In what world, and under what educators,
-were the immortal souls of Laps and Bushmen trained? What social
-position had the early Christian martyrs? What became of Caligula, whose
-nurse, we were told, smeared her breasts with blood, and so developed
-the world-hated tyrant from the outraged infant? Where was Buddha, “the
-Man who knew”? What affectionate relation subsisted between him and the
-Man who Loved?</p>
-
-<p>I would bide my time patiently, but I, too,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a>{184}</span> would become an experienced
-traveler through the spheres. Our Sun I would visit, and scarlet Mars,
-said by our astronomers below to be the planet most likely to contain
-inhabitants. The colored suns I would observe, and the nebulæ, and the
-mysteries of space, powerless now to chill one by its reputed
-temperature, said to be forever at zero. Where were the Alps of Heaven?
-The Niagara of celestial scenery? The tropics of the spiritual world?
-Ah, how I should pursue Eternity with questions!</p>
-
-<p>What was the relation of mechanical power to celestial conditions? What
-use was made of Watts and Stevenson?</p>
-
-<p>What occupied the ex-hod-carriers and cooks?</p>
-
-<p>Where were all the songs of all the poets? In the eternal accumulation
-of knowledge, what proportion sifted through the strainers of spiritual
-criticism? What <i>were</i> the standards of spiritual criticism? What became
-of those creations of the human intellect which had acquired
-immortality? Were there instances<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a>{185}</span> where these figments of fancy had
-achieved an eternal existence lost by their own creators? Might not one
-of the possible mysteries of our new state of existence be the fact of a
-world peopled by the great creatures of our imagination known to us
-below? And might not one of our pleasures consist in visiting such a
-world? Was it incredible that Helen, and Lancelot, and Sigfried, and
-Juliet, and Faust, and Dinah Morris, and the Lady of Shalott, and Don
-Quixote, and Colonel Newcome, and Sam Weller, and Uncle Tom, and Hester
-Prynne and Jean Valjean existed? could be approached by way of holiday,
-as one used to take up the drama or the fiction, on a leisure hour, down
-below?</p>
-
-<p>Already, though so short a time had I been in the upper life, my
-imagination was overwhelmed with the sense of its possibilities. They
-seemed to overlap one another like the molecules of gold in a ring,
-without visible juncture or practical end. I was ready for the
-inconceivable itself. In how many worlds should I experience myself? How
-many lives<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a>{186}</span> should I live? Did eternal existence mean eternal variety of
-growth, suspension, renewal? Might youth and maturity succeed each other
-exquisitely? Might individual life reproduce itself from seed, to
-flower, to fruit, like a plant, through the cycles? Would childhood or
-age be a matter of personal choice? Would the affectional or the
-intellectual temperaments at will succeed each other? Might one try the
-domestic or the public career in different existences? Try the bliss of
-love in one age, the culture of solitude in another? Be oneself yet be
-all selves? Experience all glories, all discipline, all knowledge, all
-hope? Know the ecstasy of assured union with the one creature chosen out
-of time and Eternity to complement the soul? And yet forever pursue the
-unattainable with the rapture and the reverence of newly-awakened and
-still ungratified feeling?</p>
-
-<p>Ah me! was it possible to feel desolate even in Heaven?</p>
-
-<p>I think it may be, because I had been much occupied with thoughts like
-these; or it may<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a>{187}</span> be that, since my dear mother’s coming, I had been,
-naturally, thrown more by myself in my desire to leave those two
-uninterrupted in their first reunion&mdash;but I must admit that I had lonely
-moments, when I realized that Heaven had yet failed to provide me with a
-home of my own, and that the most loving filial position could not
-satisfy the nature of a mature man or woman in any world. I must admit
-that I began to be again subject to retrospects and sadnesses which had
-been well brushed away from my heart since my advent to this place. I
-must admit that in experiencing the immortality of being, I found that I
-experienced no less the immortality of love.</p>
-
-<p>Had I to meet that old conflict <i>here</i>? I never asked for everlasting
-life. Will He impose it, and not free me from <i>that</i>? God forgive me!
-Have I evil in my heart still? Can one sin in Heaven? Nay, be merciful,
-be merciful! I will be patient. I will have trust. But the old nerves
-are not dead. The old ache has survived the grave.</p>
-
-<p>Why was this permitted, if without a cure?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a>{188}</span> Why had death no power to
-call decay upon that for which eternal life seemed to have provided no
-health? It had seemed to me, so far as I could observe the heavenly
-society, that only the fortunate affections of preëxistence survived.
-The unhappy, as well as the imperfect, were outlived and replaced.
-Mysteries had presented themselves here, which I was not yet wise enough
-to clear up. I saw, however, that a great ideal was one thing which
-never died. The attempt to realize it often involved effects which
-seemed hardly less than miraculous.</p>
-
-<p>But for myself, events had brought no solution of the problems of my
-past; and with the tenacity of a constant nature I was unable to see any
-for the future.</p>
-
-<p>I mused one evening, alone with these long thoughts. I was strolling
-upon a wide, bright field. Behind me lay the city, glittering and glad.
-Beyond, I saw the little sea which I had crossed. The familiar outline
-of the hills uprose behind. All Heaven seemed heavenly. I heard distant
-merry voices and music. Listening<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a>{189}</span> closely, I found that the Wedding
-March that had stirred so many human heart-beats was perfectly performed
-somewhere across the water, and that the wind bore the sounds towards
-me. I then remembered to have heard it said that Mendelssohn was himself
-a guest of some distinguished person in an adjacent town, and that
-certain music of his was to be given for the entertainment of a group of
-people who had been deaf-mutes in the lower life.</p>
-
-<p>As the immortal power of the old music filled the air, I stayed my steps
-to listen. The better to do this, I covered my eyes with my hands, and
-so stood blindfold and alone in the midst of the wide field.</p>
-
-<p>The passion of earth and the purity of Heaven&mdash;the passion of Heaven and
-the deferred hope of earth&mdash;what loss and what possession were in the
-throbbing strains!</p>
-
-<p>As never on earth, they called the glad to rapture. As never on earth,
-they stirred the sad to silence. Where, before, had soul or sense been
-called by such a clarion? What music was, we used to dream. What it is,
-we dare, at last, to know.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a>{190}</span></p>
-
-<p>And yet&mdash;I would have been spared this if I could, I think, just now.
-Give me a moment’s grace. I would draw breath, and so move on again, and
-turn me to my next duty quietly, since even Heaven denies me, after all.</p>
-
-<p>I would&mdash;what would I? Where am I? Who spoke, or stirred? <span class="smcap">Who</span> called me
-by a name unheard by me of any living lip for almost twenty years?</p>
-
-<p>In a transport of something not unlike terror, I could not remove my
-hands from my eyes, but still stood, blinded and dumb, in the middle of
-the shining field. Beneath my clasped fingers, I caught the radiance of
-the edges of the blades of grass that the low breeze swept against my
-garment’s hem; and strangely in that strange moment, there came to me,
-for the only articulate thought I could command, these two lines of an
-old hymn:</p>
-
-<p>
-“Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood<br />
-Stand dressed in living green.”<br />
-</p>
-
-<p>“Take down your hands,” a voice said quietly. “Do not start or fear. It
-is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a>{191}</span> most natural thing in the world that I should find you. Be calm.
-Take courage. Look at me.”</p>
-
-<p>Obeying, as the tide obeys the moon, I gathered heart, and so, lifting
-my eyes, I saw him whom I remembered standing close beside me. We two
-were alone in the wide, bright field. All Heaven seemed to have
-withdrawn to leave us to ourselves for this one moment.</p>
-
-<p>I had known that I might have loved him, all my life. I had never loved
-any other man. I had not seen him for almost twenty years. As our eyes
-met, our souls challenged one another in silence, and in strength. I was
-the first to speak:</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Where is she?</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“Not with me.”</p>
-
-<p>“When did you die?”</p>
-
-<p>“Years ago.”</p>
-
-<p>“I had lost all trace of you.”</p>
-
-<p>“It was better so, for all concerned.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is she&mdash;is she”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“She is on earth, and of it; she has found comfort long since; another
-fills my place. I do not grieve to yield it. Come!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a>{192}</span></p>
-
-<p>“But I have thought&mdash;for all these years&mdash;it was not right&mdash;I put the
-thought away&mdash;I do not understand”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, come! I, too, have waited twenty years.”</p>
-
-<p>“But is there no reason&mdash;no barrier&mdash;are you sure? God help me! You have
-turned Heaven into Hell for me, if this is not right.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did I ever ask you to give me one pitying thought that was not right?”</p>
-
-<p>“Never, God knows. Never. You helped me to be right, to be noble. You
-were the noblest man I ever knew. I was a better woman for having known
-you, though we parted&mdash;as we did.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then do you trust me? Come!”</p>
-
-<p>“I trust you as I do the angels of God.”</p>
-
-<p>“And I love you as His angels may. Come!”</p>
-
-<p>“For how long&mdash;am I to come?”</p>
-
-<p>“Are we not in Eternity? I claim you as I have loved you, without limit
-and without end. Soul of my immortal soul! Life of my eternal life!&mdash;Ah,
-come.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a>{193}</span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV.</h2>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">And</span> yet so subtle is the connection in the eternal life between the
-soul’s best moments and the Source of them, that I felt unready for my
-joy until it had His blessing whose Love was the sun of all love, and
-whose approval was sweeter than all happiness.</p>
-
-<p>Now, it was a part of that beautiful order of Heaven, which we ceased to
-call accident, that while I had this wish upon my lips, we saw Him
-coming to us, where we still stood alone together in the open field.</p>
-
-<p>We did not hasten to meet Him, but remained as we were until He reached
-our side; and then we sank upon our knees before Him, silently. God
-knows what gain we had for the life that we had lost below. The pure
-eyes of the Master sought us with a benignity from which we thanked the
-Infinite Mercy that our own had not need to droop ashamed. What<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a>{194}</span> weak,
-earthly comfort could have been worth the loss of a moment such as this?
-He blesses us. With His sacred hands He blesses us, and by His blessing
-lifts our human love into so divine a thing that this seems the only
-life in which it could have breathed.</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p>By-and-by, when our Lord has left us, we join hands like children, and
-walk quietly through the dazzling air, across the field, and up the
-hill, and up the road, and home. I seek my mother, trembling, and clasp
-her, sinking on my knees, until I hide my face upon her lap. Her hands
-stray across my hair and cheek.</p>
-
-<p>“What is the matter, Mary?&mdash;<i>dear</i> Mary!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Mother, I have Heaven in my heart at last!”</p>
-
-<p>“Tell me all about it, my poor child. Hush! There, there! my dear!”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Your poor child?</i> ... Mother! What <i>can</i> you mean?”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p>What can she mean, indeed? I turn and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a>{195}</span> gaze into her eyes. My face was
-hidden in her lap. Her hands stray across my hair and cheek.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>What is the matter, Mary?&mdash;dear Mary!</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Oh, Mother, I have Heaven in my heart at last!</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Tell me all about it, my poor child. Hush! There, there! my dear!</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Your poor child? Mother!</i> <i>What</i> <small>CAN</small> <i>this mean</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p>She broods and blesses me, she calms and gathers me. With a mighty cry,
-I fling myself against her heart, and sob my soul out, there.</p>
-
-<p>“You are better, child,” she says. “Be quiet. You will live.”</p>
-
-<p>Upon the edge of the sick-bed, sitting strained and weary, she leans to
-comfort me. The night-lamp burns dimly on the floor behind the door. The
-great red chair stands with my white woollen wrapper thrown across the
-arm. In the window the magenta geranium droops<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a>{196}</span> freezing. Mignonette is
-on the table, and its breath pervades the air. Upon the wall, the cross,
-the Christ, and the picture of my father look down.</p>
-
-<p>The doctor is in the room; I hear him say that he shall change the
-medicine, and some one, I do not notice who, whispers that it is thirty
-hours since the stupor, from which I have aroused, began. Alice comes
-in, and Tom, I see, has taken Mother’s place, and holds me&mdash;dear
-Tom!&mdash;and asks me if I suffer, and why I look so disappointed.</p>
-
-<p>Without, in the frosty morning, the factory-bells are calling the poor
-girls to their work. The shutter is ajar, and through the crack I see
-the winter day dawn on the world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a>{197}</span></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p class="eng">Standard and Popular Library Books</p>
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-</p>
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-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Marjorie Daw and Other People. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Prudence Palfrey. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Queen of Sheba. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Stillwater Tragedy. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">From Ponkapog to Pesth. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cloth of Gold and Other Poems. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Flower and Thorn. Later Poems. 12mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems, Complete. Illustrated. 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Mercedes, and Later Lyrics. Crown 8vo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>American Commonwealths.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Virginia. By John Esten Cooke.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oregon. By William Barrows.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="indd2">
-(<i>In Preparation.</i>)<br />
-</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">South Carolina. By Hon. W. H. Trescot.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Kentucky. By N. S. Shaler.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Maryland. By Wm. Hand Browne.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pennsylvania. By Hon. Wayne MacVeagh.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a>{198}</span></p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Connecticut. By Alexander Johnston.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Kansas. By Leverett W. Spring.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tennessee. By James Phelan.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">California. By Josiah Royce.</span><br />
-</p></div>
-
-<p class="indd2">
-Each volume, 16mo, $1.25.<br />
-Others to be announced hereafter.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p>American Men of Letters.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Washington Irving. By Charles Dudley Warner.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Noah Webster. By Horace E. Scudder.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Henry D. Thoreau. By Frank B. Sanborn.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">George Ripley. By O. B. Frothingham.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">J. Fenimore Cooper. By Prof. T. R. Lounsbury.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Margaret Fuller Ossoli. By T. W. Higginson.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="indd2">
-(<i>In Preparation.</i>)<br />
-</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ralph Waldo Emerson. By Oliver Wendell Holmes.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nathaniel Hawthorne. By James Russell Lowell.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Edmund Quincy. By Sidney Howard Gay.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">William Cullen Bryant. By John Bigelow.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bayard Taylor. By J. R. G. Hassard.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">William Gilmore Simms. By George W. Cable.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Benjamin Franklin. By John Bach McMaster.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Edgar Allan Poe. By George E. Woodberry.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="indd2">
-Each volume, with Portrait, 16mo, $1.25.<br />
-Others to be announced hereafter.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p>American Statesmen.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">John Quincy Adams. By John T. Morse, Jr.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Alexander Hamilton. By Henry Cabot Lodge.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">John C. Calhoun. By Dr. H. von Holst.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Andrew Jackson. By Prof. W. G. Sumner.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">John Randolph. By Henry Adams.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">James Monroe. By Pres. D. C. Gilman.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thomas Jefferson. By John T. Morse, Jr.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Daniel Webster. By Henry Cabot Lodge.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Albert Gallatin. By John Austin Stevens.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">John Adams. By John T. Morse, Jr.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 5em;">(<i>In Preparation.</i>)</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">James Madison. By Sidney Howard Gay.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a>{199}</span></p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Henry Clay. By Hon. Carl Schurz.</span><br />
-
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Samuel Adams. By John Fiske.</span><br />
-
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Martin Van Buren. By Hon. Wm. Dorsheimer.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="indd2">
-Each volume, 16mo, $1.25.<br />
-Others to be announced hereafter.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Martha Babcock Amory.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of John Singleton Copley. 8vo, $3.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Hans Christian Andersen.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Complete Works. 10 vols. 12mo, each $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Francis, Lord Bacon.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. Collected and edited by Spedding, Ellis, and Heath. 15 vols. crown 8vo, $33.75.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Popular Edition.</i> With Portraits and Index. 2 vols. crown 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Promus of Formularies and Elegancies. 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life and Times of Bacon. Abridged. By James Spedding. 2 vols. crown 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Maturin M. Ballou.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Due West. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>E. D. R. Bianciardi.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">At Home in Italy. (<i>In Press.</i>)</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William Henry Bishop.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The House of a Merchant Prince. A Novel. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Detmold. A Novel. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Björnstjerne Björnson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Norwegian Novels. 7 vols. 16mo, each $1.00; the set, $6.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Anne C. Lynch Botta.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Handbook of Universal Literature. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>British Poets.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Riverside Edition.</i> Crown 8vo, each $1.75; the set, 68 vols.,</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">$100.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a>{200}</span></p>
-
-<p>John Brown, M. D.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Spare Hours. 3 vols. 16mo, each $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Robert Browning.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Complete Works. <i>New Edition.</i> 7 vols. crown 8vo, $12.00.</span><br />
-
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Jocoseria. New Poems. 16mo, $1.00. Crown 8vo, $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William Cullen Bryant.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Translation of Homer. The Iliad. 1 vol. crown 8vo, $3.00. vols. royal 8vo, $9.00; crown 8vo, $4.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Odyssey. 1 vol. crown 8vo, $3.00. 2 vols. royal 8vo, $9.00; crown 8vo, $4.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Sara C. Bull.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Ole Bull. Portrait and illustrations. 8vo, $2.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>John Burroughs.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. 5 vols. 16mo, each $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Thomas Carlyle.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Essays. With Portrait and Index. 4 vols. 12mo, $7.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Popular Edition.</i> 2 vols. 12mo, $3.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Alice and Phœbe Cary.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Household Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Library Edition.</i> Including Memorial by Mary Clemmer.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Portraits and 24 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Lydia Maria Child.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Looking toward Sunset. 12mo, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Letters. With Biography by Whittier. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>James Freeman Clarke.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ten Great Religions. 8vo, $3.00.</span><br />
-
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ten Great Religions. Part II. Comparison of all Religions. 8vo, $3.00.</span><br />
-
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Common Sense in Religion. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Memorial and Biographical Sketches. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a>{201}</span></p>
-
-<p>James Fenimore Cooper.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. <i>Household Edition.</i> Illustrated. 32 vols. 16mo,</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">each $1.00; the set, $32.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Globe Edition.</i> Illustrated. 16 vols. 16mo, $20.00. (<i>Sold only in sets.</i>)</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Charles Egbert Craddock.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the Tennessee Mountains.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>F. Marion Crawford.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To Leeward. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>M. Creighton.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Papacy during the Reformation. 2 vols. 8vo, $10.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Richard H. Dana.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To Cuba and Back. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two Years before the Mast. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Thomas De Quincey.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. <i>Riverside Edition.</i> 12 vols. 12mo, each $1.50; the</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">set, $18.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Madame De Staël.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Germany. 12mo, $2.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Charles Dickens.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. <i>Illustrated Library Edition.</i> With Dickens Dictionary.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">30 vols. 12mo, each $1.50; the set, $45.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Globe Edition.</i> 15 vols. 16mo, each $1.25; the set, $18.75.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>J. Lewis Diman.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Theistic Argument, etc. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Orations and Essays. Crown 8vo, $2.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>F. S. Drake.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dictionary of American Biography. 8vo, $6.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Charles L. Eastlake.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hints on Household Taste. Illustrated. 8vo, $3.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Notes on the Louvre and Brera Galleries. Small 4to, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a>{202}</span></p>
-
-<p>George Eliot.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Spanish Gypsy. A Poem. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Ralph Waldo Emerson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. <i>Riverside Edition.</i> 11 vols. each $1.75.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>“Little Classic” Edition.</i> 11 vols. 18mo, each $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Parnassus. <i>Household Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Library Edition.</i> 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Edgar Fawcett.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Hopeless Case. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Gentleman of Leisure. 18mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An Ambitious Woman. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>F. de S. de la Motte Fénelon.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Adventures of Telemachus. 12mo, $2.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>James T. Fields.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yesterdays with Authors. 12mo, $2.00; 8vo, $3.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Underbrush. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ballads and other Verses. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Family Library of British Poetry. Royal 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Memoirs and Correspondence. 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>John Fiske.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Myths and Myth-Makers. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy. 2 vols. 8vo, $6.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Unseen World, and other Essays. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Excursions of an Evolutionist. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Darwinism and Other Essays. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Dorsey Gardner.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Quatre Bras, Ligny, and Waterloo. 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>John F. Genung.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tennyson’s In Memoriam. A Study. Crown 8vo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Faust. Part First. Translated by C. T. Brooks. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Faust. Translated by Bayard Taylor, 1 vol. crown 8vo,</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">$3.00. 2 vols. royal 8vo, $9.00; 12mo, $4.50.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a>{203}</span></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Correspondence with a Child. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wilhelm Meister. Translated by Carlyle. 2 vols. 12mo, $3.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Anna Davis Hallowell.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">James and Lucretia Mott. Crown 8vo. (<i>In Press.</i>)</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Arthur Sherburne Hardy.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But Yet a Woman. <i>Nineteenth Thousand.</i> 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Bret Harte.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. <i>New Edition.</i> 5 vols. Crown 8vo, each $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Household Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00. <i>Red-Line</i></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Edition.</i> Small 4to, $2.50. <i>Diamond Edition</i>, $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Nathaniel Hawthorne.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. <i>“Little Classic” Edition.</i> Illustrated. 25 vols.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">18mo, each $1.00; the set $25.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>New Riverside Edition.</i> Introductions by G. P. Lathrop.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">11 Etchings and Portrait. 12 vols. crown 8vo, each $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>John Hay.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pike County Ballads. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Castilian Days. 16mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>George S. Hillard.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six Months in Italy. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Oliver Wendell Holmes.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Household Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Illustrated Library Edition.</i> 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Handy-Volume Edition.</i> 2 vols. 18mo, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Handy-Volume Edition.</i> 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Professor at the Breakfast-Table. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Poet at the Breakfast-Table. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Elsie Venner. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Guardian Angel. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Medical Essays. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pages from an old Volume of Life. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">John Lothrop Motley. A Memoir. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a>{204}</span></p>
-
-<p>Augustus Hoppin.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Fashionable Sufferer. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Recollections of Auton House. 4to, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Blanche Willis Howard.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">One Summer. 18mo, $1.25. Sq. 12mo, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">One Year Abroad. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William D. Howells.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Venetian Life. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Italian Journeys. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Their Wedding Journey. Illus. 12mo, $1.50; 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Suburban Sketches. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Chance Acquaintance. Illus. 12mo, $1.50; 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Foregone Conclusion. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Lady of the Aroostook. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Undiscovered Country. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Out of the Question. A Comedy. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Counterfeit Presentment. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Choice Autobiography. 8 vols. 18mo, each $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Thomas Hughes.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tom Brown’s School-Days at Rugby. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tom Brown at Oxford. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Manliness of Christ. 16mo, $1.00; paper, 25 cents.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William Morris Hunt.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Talks on Art. Series I. and II. 8vo, each $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Alexander Ireland.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Book-Lover’s Enchiridion. 16mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Henry James, Jr.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Passionate Pilgrim and other Tales. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Transatlantic Sketches. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Roderick Hudson. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The American. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Watch and Ward. 18mo, $1.25.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a>{205}</span></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Europeans. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Confidence. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Portrait of a Lady. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mrs. Anna Jameson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Writings upon Art Subjects. 10 vols. 18mo, each $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Sarah Orne Jewett.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Deephaven. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Old Friends and New. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Country By-Ways. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Play-Days. Stories for Children. Square 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Mate of the Daylight. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Rossiter Johnson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Little Classics. Eighteen handy volumes containing the</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">choicest Stories, Sketches, and short Poems in English</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Literature. Each in one vol. 18mo, $1.00; the set, $18.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">9 vols. square 16mo, $13.50. (<i>Sold only in sets.</i>)</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Samuel Johnson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oriental Religions: India, 8vo, $5.00. China, 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Persia, 8vo. (<i>In Press.</i>)</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Lectures, Essays, and Sermons. Crown 8vo, $1.75.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Charles C. Jones, Jr.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">History of Georgia. 2 vols. 8vo, $10.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>T. Starr King.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Christianity and Humanity. With Portrait. 16mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Substance and Show. 16mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Lucy Larcom.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An Idyl of Work. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wild Roses of Cape Ann and other Poems. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Breathings of the Better Life. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>George Parsons Lathrop.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Study of Hawthorne. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An Echo of Passion. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Henry C. Lea.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sacerdotal Celibacy. 8vo, $4.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a>{206}</span></p>
-
-<p>Charles G. Leland.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Gypsies. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>George Henry Lewes.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Story of Goethe’s Life. Portrait. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Problems of Life and Mind. 5 vols. 8vo, $14.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>J. G. Lockhart.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Sir W. Scott. 3 vols. 12mo, $4.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Henry Cabot Lodge.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Studies in History. Crown 8vo.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poetical Works. <i>Cambridge Edition.</i> 4 vols. 12mo, $9.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Octavo Edition.</i> Portrait and 300 illustrations. $8.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Household Edition.</i> Portrait. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Red-Line Edition.</i> Portrait and 12 illus. Small 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Diamond Edition.</i> $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Library Edition.</i> Portrait and 32 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Christus. <i>Household Edition</i>, $2.00; <i>Diamond Edition</i>, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Prose Works. <i>Cambridge Edition.</i> 2 vols. 12mo, $4.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hyperion. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Kavanagh. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Outre-Mer. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the Harbor. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Michael Angelo: a Drama. Illustrated. Folio, $7.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Twenty Poems. Illustrated. Small 4to, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Translation of the Divina Commedia of Dante. 1 vol.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">cr. 8vo, $3.00. 3 vols. royal 8vo, $13.50; cr. 8vo, $6.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poets and Poetry of Europe. Royal 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems of Places. 31 vols., each $1.00; the set, $25.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>James Russell Lowell.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Red-Line Edition.</i> Portrait. Illus. Small 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Household Edition.</i> Portrait. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Library Edition.</i> Portrait and 32 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Diamond Edition.</i> $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fireside Travels. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Among my Books. Series I. and II. 12mo, each $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My Study Windows. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a>{207}</span></p>
-
-<p>Thomas Babington Macaulay.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Complete Works. 8 vols. 12mo, $10.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Harriet Martineau.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Autobiography. Portraits and illus. 2 vols. 8vo, $6.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Household Education. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Owen Meredith.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Household Edition.</i> Illustrated. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Library Edition.</i> Portrait and 32 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Lucile. <i>Red-Line Edition.</i> 8 illustrations. Small 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Diamond Edition.</i> 8 illustrations. $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>J. W. Mollett.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Illustrated Dictionary of Words used in Art and Archæology.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Small 4to, $5.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Michael de Montaigne.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Complete Works. Portrait. 4 vols. 12mo, $7.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William Mountford.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Euthanasy. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>T. Mozley.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Reminiscences of Oriel College, etc. 2 vols. 16mo, $3.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Elisha Mulford.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Nation. 8vo, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Republic of God. 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>T. T. Munger.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">On the Threshold. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Freedom of Faith. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>J. A. W. Neander.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">History of the Christian Religion and Church, with Index</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">volume, 6 vols. 8vo, $20.00; Index alone, $3.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Joseph Neilson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Memories of Rufus Choate. 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Charles Eliot Norton.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Notes of Travel and Study in Italy. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Translation of Dante’s New Life. Royal 8vo, $3.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a>{208}</span></p>
-
-<p>James Parton.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Benjamin Franklin. 2 vols. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Thomas Jefferson. 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Aaron Burr. 2 vols. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Andrew Jackson. 3 vols. 8vo, $6.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Horace Greeley. 8vo, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">General Butler in New Orleans. 8vo, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Humorous Poetry of the English Language. 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Famous Americans of Recent Times. 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life of Voltaire. 2 vols. 8vo, $6.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The French Parnassus. 12mo, $2.00. Crown 8vo, $3.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Blaise Pascal.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thoughts. 12mo, $2.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Letters. 12mo, $2.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Elizabeth Stuart Phelps.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Gates Ajar. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Beyond the Gates. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Men, Women, and Ghosts. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hedged In. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Silent Partner. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Story of Avis. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sealed Orders, and other Stories. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Friends: A Duet. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Doctor Zay. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Carl Ploetz.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Epitome of Universal History. 12mo, $3.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Adelaide A. Procter.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Diamond Ed.</i> $1.00. <i>Red-Line Ed.</i> Sm. 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Abby Sage Richardson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">History of Our Country. 8vo, $4.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Songs from the Old Dramatists. 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>C. F. Richardson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Primer of American Literature. 18mo, 30 cents.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Henry Crabb Robinson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Diary, Reminiscences, etc. Crown 8vo, $2.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a>{209}</span></p>
-
-<p>A. P. Russell.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Library Notes. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Characteristics. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Edgar E. Saltus.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Balzac. Crown 8vo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>John Godfrey Saxe.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Red-Line Edition.</i> Illustrated. Small 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Diamond Edition.</i> $1.00. <i>Household Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Sir Walter Scott.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Waverley Novels. <i>Illustrated Library Edition.</i> 25 vols.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">12mo, each $1.00; the set, $25.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Globe Edition.</i> 100 illustrations. 13 vols. 16mo, $16.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tales of a Grandfather. 3 vols. 12mo, $4.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Red-Line Edition.</i> Illustrated. Small 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Diamond Edition.</i> $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Horace E. Scudder.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Bodley Books. Illus. 7 vols. small 4to, each $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Dwellers in Five-Sisters’ Court. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Stories and Romances. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>W. H. Seward.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. 5 vols. 8vo, $15.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Diplomatic History of the War. 8vo, $3.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>John Campbell Shairp.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Culture and Religion. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poetic Interpretation of Nature. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Studies in Poetry and Philosophy. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Aspects of Poetry. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William Shakespeare.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. Edited by R. G. White. <i>Riverside Edition.</i> 3 vols.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">crown 8vo, $7.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Same. 6 vols. 8vo, $15.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Dr. William Smith.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bible Dictionary. <i>American Edition.</i> The set, 4 vols. 8vo,</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">$20.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a>{210}</span></p>
-
-<p>Edmund Clarence Stedman.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Farringford Edition.</i> Portrait. 16mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Household Edition.</i> Portrait. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Victorian Poets. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poetry of America. (<i>In Press.</i>)</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Edgar Allan Poe. An Essay. Vellum, 18mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Harriet Beecher Stowe.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Agnes of Sorrento. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Pearl of Orr’s Island. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Minister’s Wooing. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The May-flower, and other Sketches. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nina Gordon. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oldtown Folks. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sam Lawson’s Fireside Stories. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Uncle Tom’s Cabin. 100 illustrations. 12mo, $3.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Popular Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Jonathan Swift.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. <i>Edition de Luxe.</i> 19 vols. 8vo, each $4.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Bayard Taylor.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poetical Works. <i>Household Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dramatic Works. 12mo, $2.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Alfred Tennyson.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Household Edition.</i> Portrait and illus. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Illustrated Crown Edition.</i> 2 vols. 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Library Edition.</i> Portrait and 60 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Red-Line Edition.</i> Portrait and illus. Small 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Diamond Edition.</i> $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Celia Thaxter.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Among the Isles of Shoals. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. Small 4to, $1.50. Drift-Weed. 18mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems for Children. Illustrated. Small 4to, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Henry D. Thoreau.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Works. 8 vols. 12mo, each $1.50; the set, $12.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>George Ticknor.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">History of Spanish Literature. 3 vols. 8vo, $10.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Life, Letters, and Journals. Portraits. 2 vols. 12mo, $4.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a>{211}</span></p>
-
-<p>J. T. Trowbridge.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Home Idyl. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Vagabonds. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Emigrant’s Story. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Herbert Tuttle.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">History of Prussia. Crown 8vo, $2.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Jones Very.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. With Memoir. 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>F. M. A. de Voltaire.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">History of Charles XII. 12mo, $2.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Lew Wallace.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Fair God. A Novel. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Charles Dudley Warner.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My Summer in a Garden. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Illustrated Edition.</i> Square 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Saunterings. 18mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Back-Log Studies. Illustrated. Square 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Baddeck, and that Sort of Thing. 18mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My Winter on the Nile. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the Levant. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Being a Boy. Illustrated. Square 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the Wilderness. 18mo, 75 cents.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Roundabout Journey. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William A. Wheeler.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dictionary of Noted Names of Fiction. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Edwin P. Whipple.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Essays. 6 vols. crown 8vo, each $1.50.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Richard Grant White.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Every-Day English. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Words and their Uses. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">England Without and Within. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Faith Gartney’s Girlhood. 12mo, $1.50.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a>{212}</span></span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hitherto. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Patience Strong’s Outings. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Gayworthys. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Leslie Goldthwaite. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We Girls. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Real Folks. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Other Girls. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sights and Insights. 2 vols. 12mo, $3.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Odd or Even. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Boys at Chequasset. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Mother Goose for Grown Folks. 12mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pansies. Square 16mo, $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Just How. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>John Greenleaf Whittier.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Poems. <i>Household Edition.</i> Portrait. 12mo, $2.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Cambridge Edition.</i> Portrait. 3 vols. 12mo, $6.75.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Red-Line Edition.</i> Portrait. Illustrated. Small 4to, $2.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Diamond Edition.</i> $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Library Edition.</i> Portrait. 32 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Prose Works. <i>Cambridge Edition.</i> 2 vols. 12mo, $4.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Bay of Seven Islands. Portrait. 16mo, $1.00.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">John Woolman’s Journal. Introduction by Whittier. $1.50.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Child Life in Poetry. Selected by Whittier. Illustrated.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">12mo, $2.25. Child Life in Prose. 12mo, $2.25.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Songs of Three Centuries. Selected by J. G. Whittier.</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Household Edition.</i> 12mo, $2.00. <i>Library Edition.</i> 32</span><br />
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">illustrations. 8vo, $4.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>J. A. Wilstach.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Translation of Virgil’s Works. 2 vols. cr. 8vo, $5.00.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Justin Winsor.</p>
-
-<div class="indd"><p class="nind">
-<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Reader’s Handbook of American Revolution. 16mo, $1.25.</span><br />
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="c">
-HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY,<br />
-<span class="smcap">4 Park St., Boston.</span> <span class="smcap">11 East 17th St., New York.</span><br />
-</p>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
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-
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