From the blue paths of the swift sun have faded.”
There was present one who looked upon her at that moment, and looking, saw her with other eyes than those of mere humanity,—saw her as earthly sight alone can never see her,—in the clear undarkened air of psychic vision which brings all things, all circumstances, all seeming shapes into the true prospective of the Soul’s distinct and unerring observation. And in that Light she stood uplifted;—the symbols of earth’s passing power and splendour were no longer visible—the crowding forms around her were as drifting shadows, dimly outlined or vanishing altogether into darker space. High above them all her Spirit rose transfigured;—revealed in its true beauty,—transformed by a Thought,—and hallowed by a Prayer! No longer robed in sombre mourning garb, her figure shone resplendent, clad in the dazzling whiteness of an Angel’s wearing;—Royal robes of Heaven’s imperishable gold enfolded her as with wings,—and on her brow sparkled the deathless Crown of many bravely-endured mortal sorrows turned into jewels of immortal joy! Unconscious of the living radiating light surrounding her she stood; serene and prayerful,—watchful and patient,—fearless and resigned,—loving and true; and like the breaking of great waves upon the shifting sand, came the murmur of a mighty people’s praise,—the grateful blessings of brave soldiers far away, fighting for England’s honour,—the tenderness of children’s love—the thankfulness of struggling souls rescued from sin and death! Pure thoughts, pure words, pure deeds formed a glittering triumphal arch of rainbow hues above her, attracting with an irresistible force the unseen powers of good, which, through all clouds of doubt and chance, do yet flash their star-like rays of hope upon the world, inspiring the mind of humanity to fresh work, ambition, and endeavour. To her—a Queen of Fair Virtues—ascended the earnest, though unworded petitions of all good women for guidance and example,—to her their looks were turned for leadership through the devious and difficult ways of life,—for to them she seemed
“Fixt like a beacon-tower above the waves
Of tempest.”
War or peace,—loss or gain,—defeat or victory—these earthly incidents of life passed over her as the mere brief reflex of a darkness on her brightness, and touched her not at all. Plainly could it be seen that she had known sorrow; plainly was it evident that she had shed tears. She had clasped the Cross to her breast—she had testified her faith in God by a grand resignation to the Divine Will. But these things made the stature of her Soul so much the fairer, that such marks of pain and loss could only be perceived in her as indications of more perfect gladness. So did she shine;—pictured for a fleeting moment in the clear mirror of spiritual perception, with all the colours of unfading Truth about her, and seen, not “as in a glass darkly, but face to face,”—a visible Queen indeed, of a far wider realm than Imperial Britain! For Imperial Britain may have its day like Imperial Rome—may run its course equally to decay and death,—but the Empire of love and purity, of unselfishness and goodness, of truth and kindness, is built up on eternal foundations and can never end! And within that Empire the Soul of Queen Alexandra is crowned more gloriously than with the crown of England,—from every quarter of it she commands more subjects than any earthly kingdom holds,—and those who cannot penetrate into this boundless and everlasting realm of hers, do not know her, and cannot say they have ever looked upon her! And when the King’s first Parliament was opened—when all the “great” in rank and wealth and fashion had pushed and scrambled and hustled themselves out of Westminster, commenting audibly and flippantly on the looks, manners and deportment of their Majesties, how many among them, we may wonder, had seen the veil of earthly things withdrawn and the appearance of that lovely Soul disclosed as God sees it, in all the fairest portraiture of a truly Royal Presence?
One—certainly one—out of all the brilliant assemblage had truly “seen” the Queen;—and that one who was so permitted to behold her as she actually is in the watchful sight of Heaven, remembers every line, every grace, every touch of colour and beauty in the gracious Spirit-picture,—and is glad—for England’s sake!
A CHRISTMAS CAROL AT SANDRINGHAM
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