"I could not misunderstand you," I said. "Of course you mean Christians?"
"Yes; of all true Christians it may be said that they are come to Mount Sion. All who truly believe in Christ live under a dispensation of mercy. They are even now 'fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God.' Their names are enrolled in the Lamb's book of life; angels are their invisible attendants; they are united in spirit to 'Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant'; they are admitted into the gracious presence of the Father, 'the Judge of all,' so as to find access at every hour to God within the veil; and they have even now received the atonement, 'the blood of sprinkling,' by which their polluted consciences are cleansed and purified. These are great and exalted privileges, are they not?"
"Yes, sir," I said, feeling as I said it how incapable I was of appreciating them. The stranger did not notice my hesitation, however, but went on with still more animation—
"I cannot help thinking that more than I have mentioned is implied in the words which you justly think so beautiful, and that the writer had in his mind the future as well as the present life. The final and everlasting residence of all believers, after all the cares and toils of their earthly pilgrimage are past, is to be Mount Sion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem; part of their employment will be holy and devout adoration; their society, myriads of angels and a vast assembly of the perfected spirits of the just; the chief source of their happiness will be the presence of 'the Judge of all,' in 'Jesus the Mediator'; and the cause of all this blessedness is indicated in the closing words—'the blood of sprinkling,' or the atonement of Jesus."
I was interested, and wished he would continue. Probably he could see that I was not unwilling to listen, for, after the pause of a minute or two, he began to expatiate a little on some of the ideas he had already expressed. He spoke of the unbroken repose and perfect security of the city of God, and then of the happy employments of the great assembly in heaven. Here he drew a contrast between the amusements of the world and the enjoyments of the heavenly state, and added that, to worldly and unsanctified minds, these enjoyments had no attractions.
"Those who live only for this life," he said, "cannot conceive of any pleasure to be found in heavenly adoration and praise. Accustomed to account the Sabbath of the Lord a weariness, and devotional services irksome and tedious, it cannot appear to them desirable to enter upon a state of existence in which the worship of the Almighty is one of the choicest occupations of its inhabitants. Nor can we wonder," continued my companion, "that it should be thus, so long as the heart remains at enmity with God, while the affections are earthly and sensual, and where there is no fear of God, no love to God, no delight in God, no earnest desire to serve and honour Him. Am I not right?" the stranger asked, fixing his eyes upon me.
"Yes, sir, I think you are," I replied, faintly; and, after some further conversation on the same subjects, my fellow-traveller told me that he was going only to the end of the present stage. "There we shall part," he said, "and possibly we shall not meet again in this world; but if, by divine grace, we should be fellow-heirs of the same glorious inheritance, we shall meet in that general assembly."
These were almost the last words he spoke, for, in a few minutes, the coach stopped, and the stranger, alighting and bidding me farewell, disappeared.
Many years passed away, and I was a happy wife and mother. My husband was a true and earnest Christian; and I—yes (and therein was my happiness), I, too, was a believer in Christ. My Christian life had been, in some respects, an eventful one. My first steps in it had been beset with difficulties and no ordinary opposition; but patience was given me to endure; strength, to overcome; and, blessed be God, my heart's desire and prayer to Him on behalf of some very dear to me had, I trust, been heard and answered.
My conversion was in part, at least, the result of the stage-coach conversation I have recorded. God, in His infinite mercy, by means of the words of a stranger, called me to consideration. The Holy Spirit showed me my miserable condition, as being "a lover of pleasures more than a lover of God." Through a long, dark passage of soul-distress and great conflict I was led into the light and faith of the glorious Gospel—from the thunders of Sinai to "Mount Sion, the city of the living God; to Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling."