“That is true; but if you do not believe in the literal city, what do you make the foundations, ‘garnished with precious stones,’ to mean?”
Mrs. Tressalia was deeply interested in his ideas, even if she did not fully agree with them.
“I fear if I should try to explain all my theory regarding it, it would involve us in an endless discussion,” Earle said. “The garnishing of precious stones may mean the cultivation of those many virtues spoken of by the apostle Paul—such as love, peace, long suffering, gentleness, etc. Surely those are precious jewels that every one would like to possess.”
“Sonny boy, if you square your life by your father’s rule, you’ll not lack for symmetry in the sight of God when you come into the ‘golden city,’” muttered Tom Drake’s mother, with fast-dropping tears, as she bent fondly over little Paul, whom she had taken from his father’s arms. Earle smiled good-naturedly as he caught the low-spoken words, for he knew that in the grateful old creature’s eyes he lacked no good thing in all the catalogue of virtues.
“That is so,” said Paul Tressalia, who had also heard her; “and whether Earle’s theory is the correct one or not, it can never harm one to put it in practice, particularly if it attains to that nobility which has become so rooted and grounded in his character,” and the look of affectionate admiration which he bestowed upon his kinsman testified to the heartiness of his words.
We cannot follow them further, but we have learned enough to tell us something of the principles of goodness and purity which dwelt in that charming household, and which could not fail to ennoble and elevate all by whom they were surrounded.
Who, like Earle Wayne, would not like to make his life foursquare? Who, although he may never attain to the worldly greatness which fell to his life, would not seek to attain that better nobility of character, which, when measured by the “golden reed of the angel,” will be found of faultless symmetry, like the city whose “length, and breadth, and height are equal?”
What wouldst thou of life?
Love, purity, freedom from strife;
Bless’d virtues, in which heaven is rife;