Not all the archangels can tell
The joys of that holiest place,
Where the Father is pleased to reveal
The light of His heavenly face.
--[Charles Wesley.
"And the temple was filled with smoke from the glory of God, and from
his power."--Rev. 15: 8.
Still passing through the park, we came out upon the open country, and
walked some distance through flowery meadows and undulating plains. At
length we entered a vast forest whose great trees towered above us like
swaying giants. The day was well-nigh spent--the day so full of joy
and glad surprises and happy hours! Full as it had been I felt there
was still something left for me, deep hidden in the twilight-valley of
the day; something that held my soul in awe, as the last moments
preceding the Holy Sacrament.
My brother walked by me, absorbed in silent thought, but with a touch
beyond even his usual gentleness. I did not ask where we were going at
that unusual hour, so far from home, for fear and doubt and
questionings no longer vexed the quiet of my soul. Although the forest
was dense, the golden glow of the twilight rested beneath the trees,
and sifted down through the quivering branches overhead, as though
falling through the windows of some grand cathedral.
At length we emerged from the forest upon a vast plain that stretched
out into illimitable space before us, and far away we faintly heard the
thunder of the breaking waves of that immortal sea of which I had heard
so much but had not yet seen. But for their faint and distant
reverberation the silence about us was intense. We stood a moment upon
the verge of the forest, then as we advanced a few steps into the plain
I became aware that immediately to our right the ground rose into quite
an elevation; and, as I turned, a sight broke upon my bewildered eyes
that the eternal years of earth and heaven can never efface. Upon the
summit of this gentle slope a Temple stood, whose vast dome, massive
pillars and solid walls were of unsullied pearl, and through whose
great mullioned windows shone a white radiance that swallowed up the
golden glow of the twilight and made it its own. I did not cry aloud
nor hide my face, as at former revelations; but I sank slowly to my
knees, and, crossing my hands upon my breast, with uplifted face,
stilled heart and silent lips, laid my whole being in worship at His
feet "who sitteth upon the throne." How long I knelt thus I know not.
Even immortal life seemed lost before that greatest of celestial
mysteries. At length my brother, who had been silently kneeling beside
me, arose, and, lifting me to my feet, whispered gently, "Come."
I felt rather than saw that his face was colorless with the depth of
his emotion, and I yielded to his guidance in silence. A long flight
of low, broad steps, in gradations, rose from almost where we stood to
the very door of the Temple. They, too, were of solid pearl, bordered
on either side by channels paved with golden stones through which
coursed crystal waters that met and mingled in one stream far out upon
the plain. Ascending these steps, we entered the Temple, and for a
moment stood in silence. I do not know how it was, but in that brief
instant--it may have been longer than I knew--every detail of that
wonderful interior was fastened upon my memory as a scene is
photographed upon the artist's plate. Heretofore it had taken repeated
visits to a room to enable me to describe it correctly in detail, but
this, in a lightning's flash, was stamped upon the tablet of my memory
indelibly for all time--nay, for eternity.
The immense dome, at that moment filled with a luminous cloud, was
upheld by three rows of massive pillars of gold. The walls and floors
were of pearl, as also the great platform that filled at least
one-third of the Temple upon the eastern side. There were no seats of
any kind. The great golden pillars stood like rows of sentinels upon
the shining floor. A railing of gold ran entirely around the platform
upon the three sides, so that it was inaccessible from the body of the
Temple. Beneath this railing, upon the temple-floor, a kneeling-step
passed around the platform, also of pearl. In the center of the
platform an immense altar of gold arose, supported by seraphs of gold
with outspread wings, one at each corner; and underneath it, in a great
pearl basin, a fountain of sparkling water played, and I knew
intuitively it was the source of the magical river that flowed through
the gardens of heaven and bore from us the last stains of death and sin.
Nothing living, beside ourselves, was within the Temple except two
persons who knelt with bowed heads beside the altar-rail upon the
farther side; but by the altar stood four angels, one upon either side,
dressed in flowing garments of white, with long, slim trumpets of gold
uplifted in their hands, as though waiting in expectancy the signal for
their trumpet call. Long draperies of silvery gossamer hung in heavy
folds back of the altar platform. Suddenly, in the moment that we
looked, we saw the draperies tremble and glow until a radiance far
beyond the splendor of the sun at mid-day shone through them, and the
whole Temple was "filled with the glory of the Lord." We saw, in the
midst of the luminous cloud that filled the dome, the forms of angelic
harpers, and as we dropped with bowed heads beside the altar-rail and
hid our faces from the "brightness of His coming," we heard the
trumpet-call of the four angels about the altar, and the voices of the
celestial harpers as they sang:
"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty!
All thy works shall praise thy name, in earth, and sky, and sea.
Holy, Holy, Holy, merciful and mighty,
God in three persons--blessed Trinity. Amen!"
The voices softly died away; the last notes of the golden trumpets had
sounded; "and there was silence in heaven." We knew that the visible
glory of the Lord was, for the present, withdrawn from the Temple which
is his throne; still we knelt with bowed heads in silent worship before
him. When at last we arose I did not lift my eyes while within the
Temple; I desired it to remain upon my memory as it appeared when
filled with his glory.
We walked some time in silence, I leaning upon my brother's arm, for I
yet trembled with emotion. I was surprised that we did not return into
the forest, but went still farther out upon the plain. But when I saw
that we approached the confluence of the two streams which issued from
the fountain beneath the altar, I began to understand that we would
return by way of the river, instead of by forest and lake.
We reached the stream, at length, and, stepping into a boat that lay by
the shore, we were soon floating with the current toward home. We
passed through much beautiful scenery on our course that I had not seen
before, and which I resolved I would visit in the future, when leisure
from my daily duties would permit. Lovely villas, surrounded by
beautiful grounds stretching directly up from the water's edge, lay on
both sides of the river, and formed a panorama upon which the eye never
tired of resting. Toward the end of the journey we passed my sister's
lovely home, and we could plainly see her and her husband drinking in
the scene with enraptured eyes, from the window of her own room.
My brother and I were both silent the greater part of the time during
our journey homeward, though each noted with observant eyes the signs
of happy domestic life by which we were surrounded on every side. The
verandas and steps of the homes we passed were full of their happy
inmates; glad voices could be constantly heard, and merry shouts of
laughter came from the throngs of little children playing everywhere
upon the flowery lawns. Once I broke our silence by saying to my
brother:
"I have been more than once delightfully surprised to hear the familiar
songs of earth reproduced in heaven, but never more so than I was
to-day. That hymn has long been a favorite of mine."
"These happy surprises do not come by chance," he answered. "One of
the delights of this rare life is that no occasion is ever overlooked
for reproducing here the pure enjoyments of our mortal life. It is the
Father's pleasure to make us realize that this existence is but a
continuance of the former life, only without its imperfections and its
cares."
"Frank, I believe you are the only one of our friends here who has
never questioned me about the dear ones left behind; why is it?"
He smiled a peculiarly happy smile as he answered: "Perhaps it is
because I already know more than you could tell me."
"I wondered if it was not so," I said, for I remembered well how my
dear father had said, in speaking of my brother upon the first day of
my coming, "He stands very near to the Master," and I knew how often he
was sent upon missions to the world below.
I lay down upon my couch, on our return, with a heart overflowing with
joy and gratitude and love, beyond the power of expression; and it
seemed to me the tenderness in the Divine eyes that looked down upon me
from the wall was deeper, purer, holier than it had ever been before.
"I will reach the standard of perfection you have set for me, my
Savior," I faltered, with clasped hands uplifted to him, "if it takes
all my life in heaven and all the help from all the angels of light to
accomplish it;" and with these words upon my lips, and his tender eyes
resting upon me, I sank into the blissful repose of heaven.