“Why should that be so?” I asked.
“Because, when sin was banished from our world, it dragged in its train every evil thing and left all bright and joyous behind it. Even the unconscious soil was so improved in character that, whereas in the former time it had brought forth by nature the thorn and brier and noxious weed, there now sprang up spontaneously all manner of healthful plants and fruits.”
“But,” said I, “we do not attribute moral excellence to the ground that produces our food. How could the absence of sin make it any better?”
“Like everything else,” replied Thorwald, “it reflected the spiritual condition of our race. By long and patient cultivation, by a constant use of good seed, and by a persistent fight against every tendency to evil growth, men had so changed the nature of the soil that it yielded only that which was good. Even if left without care the ground did not deteriorate, but the products took on the character of the times and gradually improved. To such a degree had our once sinful world been changed.
“The disagreeable features in nature’s laboratory were lost to every sense, while everything that was beautiful in sight or sound, or that was pleasant to the taste, now possessed an added charm. The birds sang in more joyous notes, the flowers glowed in brighter hue, and all created things burst forth in a song of praise to their Maker.”
“Is it possible,” I asked, “that the growth of love in the heart will so transform a world and make even inanimate things more beautiful? The earth is full of selfishness and I fear will be so for a long time, and yet we think we have a few things that are perfect. I cannot conceive, for instance, how anything could ever grow, sin or no sin, that would surpass in beauty one of our finest roses.”
To which Thorwald replied:
“Is this not of value to you, to learn that the roses of the future are entirely beyond your conception? Let me assure you that, with each new advance in your progress toward a higher condition, there will unfold within you new powers of appreciation for the increasing beauties in nature, and new desires for spiritual perfections which are now too high for your mind to grasp. Is it not a pleasure to know that there are many things in reserve for the earth of whose character and perfections you cannot conceive?”
“It surely is,” I replied, “and we shall never cease to thank you for this hour’s talk. But now let me ask if you were not really in heaven when you reached such a happy state. With both man and nature redeemed from sin, with the tears wiped away from all eyes, with all griefs assuaged and sickness and sorrow forgotten, and with love supreme in the heart, what more was needed to make a heaven? Many of our generation on the earth believe that the earth itself will be our heaven, when sin has been driven out and peace and joy abound.”
“Oh, no, not heaven,” answered Thorwald. “The earth will be better in a thousand years than it is now, much better in ten thousand years, but it will never be heaven.”