She laid her harp upon the shrine, and to her surprise the strings began to quiver of their own accord. An electric current united them to the harps in the heavenly temple, and they vibrated in exquisite harmonies the echo of the harmonies above.
And with the heavenly strains, came a voice divine and human, mighty as the sound of many waters, yet soft and near as a whisper in her ear:
"Here all ruins are repaired, the enemy cannot enter here, but here thou shalt dwell for ever."
And softly floated down these other words:—
"For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."
[The Jewel of the Order of the King's Own.]
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ONCE on the sea-shore, in a land a long way off, I met an old man dressed as a galley-slave, and toiling at convicts' work, with a heavy chain around one of his arms; but his face and bearing were stamped with the truest nobility. I felt sure he must be a victim of some political cabal, and not a criminal, for not a trace of crime or remorse debased that calm brow and those clear, honest eyes. This might not have struck me as remarkable, since such unmerited sufferings were but too common in that country. What arrested my attention was the expression of unfeigned and lofty joy which irradiated his aged countenance.
In the interval of noon-day rest allowed him, as well as the other convicts, I sate down beside him and entered into conversation with him. I found he was an old soldier. And at length, I was encouraged by his frankness to inquire the cause of the strange contrast between his expression and his circumstances.
The veteran lifted his cap, and said mysteriously, "The King shall enjoy his own again. The spring will come, and with it the violets."