I was roused from my thoughts by the boat touching the marble terrace, and found my brother already standing waiting to assist me to the shore. Passing up a slight acclivity, we found ourselves in a broad street that led into the heart of the city. The streets I found were all very broad and smooth, and paved with marble and precious stones of every kind. Though they were thronged with people intent on various duties, not an atom of debris, or even dust, was visible anywhere. There seemed to be vast business houses of many kinds, though I saw nothing resembling our large mercantile establishments. There were many colleges and schools; many book and music-stores and publishing houses; several large manufactories, where, I learned, were spun the fine silken threads of manifold colors which were so extensively used in the weaving of the draperies I have already mentioned. There were art rooms, picture galleries and libraries, and many lecture halls and vast auditoriums. But I saw no churches of any kind. At first this somewhat confused me, until I remembered that there are no creeds in heaven, but that all worship together in harmony and love—the children of one and the same loving Father. "Ah," I thought, "what a pity that that fact, if no other in the great economy of heaven, could not be proclaimed to the inhabitants of earth! How it would do away with the petty contentions, jealousies and rivalries of the church militant! No creeds in heaven! No controverted points of doctrine! No charges of heresy brought by one professed Christian against another! No building up of one denomination upon the ruins or downfall of a different sect! But one great universal brotherhood whose head is Christ, and whose corner-stone is Love." I thought of the day we had listened in the great auditorium at home to the divine address of our beloved Master; of the bowed heads and uplifted voices of that vast multitude as every voice joined in the glorious anthem, "Crown Him Lord of All!" and I could have wept to think of the faces that must some day be bowed in shame when they remember how often they have in mortal life said to a brother Christian, "Stand aside; I am holier than thou!"
We found no dwelling-houses anywhere in the midst of the city, until we came to the suburbs. Here they stood in great magnificence and splendor. But one pleasing fact was that every home had its large door-yard, full of trees and flowers and pleasant walks; indeed, it was everywhere, outside of the business center of the town, like one vast park dotted with lovely houses. There was much that charmed, much that surprised me in this great city, of which I may not fully speak, but which I never can forget. We found in one place a very large park, with walks and drives and fountains and miniature lakes and shaded seats, but no dwellings or buildings of any kind, except an immense circular open temple capable of seating many hundred; and where, my brother told me, a seraph choir assembled at a certain hour daily and rendered the oratorios written by the great musical composers of earth and heaven. It had just departed, and the crowd who had enjoyed its divine music yet lingered as though loath to leave a spot so hallowed.
"We will remember the hour," my brother said, "and come again when we can hear them."
CHAPTER XIV.
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."