"I take these little lambs," said He
And lay them in my breast;
Protection they shall find in Me,
In Me be ever blest."
--[Samuel Stennett.
On one of my walks about this time, I chanced upon a scene that brought
to mind what Mae had said to me about the Savior's love for little
children. I found him sitting beneath one of the flowering trees upon
the lake shore, with about a dozen children of all ages clustered
around him. One dainty little tot, not more than a year old, was
nestled in his arms, with her sunny head resting confidingly upon his
bosom, her tiny hands filled with the lovely water-lilies that floated
everywhere on the waters. She was too young to realize how great her
privilege was, but seemed to be enjoying his care to the utmost. The
others sat at his feet, or leaned upon his knees; and one dear little
fellow, with earnest eyes, stood by him, leaning upon his shoulder,
while the Master's right arm encircled him. Every eye was fixed
eagerly upon Jesus, and each child appeared alert to catch every word
he said. He seemed to be telling them some very absorbing story,
adapted to their childish tastes and capacities. I sat down upon the
sward among a group of people, a little removed from the children, and
tried to hear what he was saying, but we were too far away to catch
more than a sentence now and then, and in heaven one never intrudes
upon another's privileges or pleasures. So we simply enjoyed the
smiles and eager questions and exclamations of the children, and
gathered a little of the tenor of the story from the disjointed
sentences which floated to us.
"A little child lost in the dark woods of the lower world--" we heard
the Master say, in response to the inquiring looks of the interested
children.
"Lions and bears--" came later on.
"Where was his papa?" asked an anxious voice.
We could not hear the reply, but soon a little fellow leaning upon the
Savior's knee, said confidently: "No lions and bears up here!"
"No," he replied, "nothing to harm or frighten my little children here!"
Then as the story deepened and grew in interest, and the children
pressed more closely about the Master, he turned with a sweet
smile--and we could see an increased pressure of the encircling arm--to
the little fellow with the earnest eyes who leaned upon his shoulder,
and said:
"What, Leslie, would you have done, then?"
With a bright light in his eyes and a flush on his fair cheek, the
child answered quickly and emphatically:
"I should have prayed to Thee and asked Thee to 'close the lion's
mouth,' as Thou didst for Daniel, and Thou wouldst have done it!"
"Ah," I thought, "could C---- and H---- see the look the beloved Master
cast upon their boy as he made his brave reply, they would be comforted
even for the absence of their darling."
Lost in these thoughts, I heard no more that passed, until an ecstatic
shout from the little folks proclaimed how satisfactorily the story had
ended, and, looking up, I saw the Savior passing onward, with the baby
still in his arms, and the children trooping about him.
"Of such is the kingdom of heaven." How well he understood! How much
he loved them!
I, too, arose and started homeward. I had not gone far before I met my
brother Frank, who greeted me with:
"I am on my way to the city by the lake; will you accompany me?"
"It has been long my wish to visit the city. I only waited until you
thought it wise for me to go," I answered.
"You are growing so fast in the knowledge of the heavenly ways," he
said, "that I think I might venture to take you almost anywhere with me
now. You acquire the knowledge for the very love of it; not because
you feel it your duty to know what we would have you learn. Your
eagerness to gather to yourself all truth, and at the same time your
patient submission in waiting, ofttimes when I know the trial is great,
have won for you much praise and love from our dear Master, who watches
eagerly the progress of us all in the divine life. I think it only
right that you should know of this; we need encouragement here as well
as in the earth-life, though in a different way. I tell you this by
divine permission. I think it will not be long before He trusts you
with a mission; but this I say of myself, not by his command."
It would be impossible for me to convey, in the language of earth, the
impression these words of commendation left upon me. They were so
unexpected, so unforeseen. I had gone on, as my brother said, eagerly
gathering the knowledge imparted to me, with a genuine love for the
study of all things pertaining to the blessed life, without a thought
that I in any way deserved commendation for so doing; and now I had won
the approbation of the Master himself! The happiness seemed almost
more than I had strength to bear.
"My brother, my dear brother!" was all I could say, in my deep joy,
stopping suddenly and looking up into his face with grateful tears.
"I am so glad for you, little sister!" he said, warmly clasping my
hand. "There are, you see, rewards in heaven; it does my soul good
that you have unconsciously won one of these so soon."
I would I might record in detail the precious words of wisdom that fell
from his lips; I would that I might recount minutely the events of that
wonderful life as it was unfolded to me day by day; but I can only say,
"I may not." When I undertook to make a record of that
never-to-be-forgotten time, I did not realize how many serious
difficulties I would have to encounter; how often I would have to pause
and consider if I might really reveal this truth or paint that scene as
it appeared to me. The very heart has often been left out of some
wonderful scene I was attempting to describe, because I found I dared
not reveal its sacred secret. I realize painfully that the narrative,
as I am forced to give it, falls infinitely short of what I hoped to
make it when I began. But bear with me; it is no fancy sketch I am
drawing, but the veritable life beyond, as it appeared to me when the
exalted spirit rose triumphant over the impoverished flesh, made
slavishly subservient through suffering.
My brother and I walked slowly back to the margin of the lake, where we
stepped into a boat lying near the shore, and were at once transported
to the farther shore of the lake, and landed upon a marble terrace--the
entrance to the city by the lake. I never knew by what power these
boats were propelled. There were no oarsmen, no engine, no sails, upon
the one in which we crossed the water; but it moved steadily onward
till we were safely landed at our destination. Luxuriously cushioned
seats were all around it, and upon one of them lay a musical
instrument, something like a violin, although it had no bow, but seemed
to be played by the fingers alone. Upon another seat lay a book. I
picked it up and opened it; it seemed to be a continuation of that book
that has stirred and thrilled millions of hearts in the mortal
life--"The Greatest Thing in the World." As I glanced through it while
we journeyed, I grasped the truth that this great mind already had
grappled with the mighty things of eternity and given food to
immortals, even as he had to those in mortal life in the years gone by.
I was roused from my thoughts by the boat touching the marble terrace,
and found my brother already standing waiting to assist me to the
shore. Passing up a slight acclivity, we found ourselves in a broad
street that led into the heart of the city. The streets I found were
all very broad and smooth, and paved with marble and precious stones of
every kind. Though they were thronged with people intent on various
duties, not an atom of debris, or even dust, was visible anywhere.
There seemed to be vast business houses of many kinds, though I saw
nothing resembling our large mercantile establishments. There were
many colleges and schools; many book and music-stores and publishing
houses; several large manufactories, where, I learned, were spun the
fine silken threads of manifold colors which were so extensively used
in the weaving of the draperies I have already mentioned. There were
art rooms, picture galleries and libraries, and many lecture halls and
vast auditoriums. But I saw no churches of any kind. At first this
somewhat confused me, until I remembered that there are no creeds in
heaven, but that all worship together in harmony and love--the children
of one and the same loving Father. "Ah," I thought, "what a pity that
that fact, if no other in the great economy of heaven, could not be
proclaimed to the inhabitants of earth! How it would do away with the
petty contentions, jealousies and rivalries of the church militant! No
creeds in heaven! No controverted points of doctrine! No charges of
heresy brought by one professed Christian against another! No building
up of one denomination upon the ruins or downfall of a different sect!
But one great universal brotherhood whose head is Christ, and whose
corner-stone is Love." I thought of the day we had listened in the
great auditorium at home to the divine address of our beloved Master;
of the bowed heads and uplifted voices of that vast multitude as every
voice joined in the glorious anthem, "Crown Him Lord of All!" and I
could have wept to think of the faces that must some day be bowed in
shame when they remember how often they have in mortal life said to a
brother Christian, "Stand aside; I am holier than thou!"
We found no dwelling-houses anywhere in the midst of the city, until we
came to the suburbs. Here they stood in great magnificence and
splendor. But one pleasing fact was that every home had its large
door-yard, full of trees and flowers and pleasant walks; indeed, it was
everywhere, outside of the business center of the town, like one vast
park dotted with lovely houses. There was much that charmed, much that
surprised me in this great city, of which I may not fully speak, but
which I never can forget. We found in one place a very large park,
with walks and drives and fountains and miniature lakes and shaded
seats, but no dwellings or buildings of any kind, except an immense
circular open temple capable of seating many hundred; and where, my
brother told me, a seraph choir assembled at a certain hour daily and
rendered the oratorios written by the great musical composers of earth
and heaven. It had just departed, and the crowd who had enjoyed its
divine music yet lingered as though loath to leave a spot so hallowed.
"We will remember the hour," my brother said, "and come again when we
can hear them."