My brother, with thoughtful care, pa.s.sed onward to the upper rooms of the house, and for awhile we were alone together, we whose lives had run, so happily mingled, through the long years of our mortal life. I drew him within the house, and in the vestibule again he took me in his arms and drew me to his heart.

"This is heaven indeed!" he said.

We pa.s.sed into the "flower-room," and on its threshold he stood a moment, entranced with its beauty; but when I would have related to him its history, as my brother had given it to me, he said: "Not to-day, my dear; I have only eyes and ears for you to-day; all else in heaven must wait."

So we sat and talked together as in the olden days, and the happy hours came and went, and the day melted into the twilight glow, before we realized it was half spent. Our brother Frank had come to us about the noontide, and together we had gone over the lovely house, had stood upon the broad verandas and eaten of the heavenly fruit. Then we all sat together where I had spent the hours waiting in the presence of the blessed Master. I told them much that he then had said to me, and how he turned into triumphant rejoicing the hours which I had antic.i.p.ated would pa.s.s in lonely waiting. The eyes of my dear husband were tear-filled, and he pressed my hand, which he still kept in his, in tender sympathy.

"Oh, darling, it is a blessed, blessed life!" I said.

"I already realize the blessedness," he replied, "for has it not given me back my brother and my wife--my precious wife!"

Early the following morning I said to my husband and our brother: "We must go to father and mother Sprague's to-day. They have the first claim, after ours, Frank."

"Yes, we will go at once," they both replied.

So together we all started. In the earliest days of my heavenly life I had sought out with much joy the home of my husband's parents, and was by them accorded, as in the earth-life, a warm place in their hearts, and many happy hours had we spent together since. Now we were taking to them a favorite son, and I realized how his coming would bring gladness to their hearts and home. It was a joyful meeting, especially to our mother, and the day was far spent before we arose to return.

"William," said our mother, fondly laying her hand upon his arm, "yours was a happy home on earth--I used to think a perfect home; it will be far happier here," with a loving glance at me.

"I am sure of that, mother. I have my dear wife and Frank constantly with me; and you and my father and Josephine"--a favorite niece--"to come to here; and after awhile," with a little hesitation, "the holier joys and privileges of heaven."

We turned to go, and upon the threshold met an aunt who in the earth-life--blind and helpless--had been a favorite with us all.

"My dear children," she exclaimed, "how good it seems to see you all again!"

"Aunt Cynthia!" my husband said fondly.

"Yes, Aunt Cynthia, but no longer groping helpless in the darkness.

'Whereas I once was blind, now I see,'" she quoted, smiling happily.

And so it was--the Master's touch had rested on the sightless eyes, and, closing to the darkness of earth, they had opened upon the glories of heaven. Marvelous transition! No wonder we left her singing:

Glory to Him who this marvel hath wrought, Filling my spirit with joy and delight!

Lo, in my blindness I safely have walked Out of the darkness into the light!

CHAPTER XVIII.

Down by the sea, the crystal sea, Where all of the redeemed shall be, Where you and I, beloved, shall go, Our crimson robes washed white as snow In Christ's dear blood--what hymns of praise Thro' countless ages we shall raise!

There all our loved ones we shall see-- Think what a meeting that will be Down by the sea!

--[From "Songs by the Sea."

Days lengthened into weeks, and weeks into months, and these in turn crept onward into years, and the duties and joys of heaven grew clearer and dearer with each pa.s.sing hour. Our home-life was perfect, though we looked forward with joy to the future coming of our son and daughter to make its ties complete. We had often spoken of going together to the great celestial sea, but the time had never seemed quite ripe for so doing. We realized it was one of the great mysteries of heaven, although we knew not just what to expect, since there no one ever seeks to forestall sight by description. One evening I said to my brother:

"I have a strange desire to go to the sea, if you think it wise that we should do so."

"I am glad that it is your desire to go, as it is mine to have you. I was about to propose that you and my brother should take together this blessed journey."

"Will you not accompany us?"

"Not at this time. We will all take it again together, but it is best that now you two should go alone. You know the way. Through the forest that leads to the Temple, till almost there; then bear to the right and follow the golden path that takes you direct to the sh.o.r.e."

So, in the quivering light of the glorious morning we started, full of a holy joy that together we might take this special journey. We entered and traversed the great forest, where the golden light fell through the quivering branches overhead, and birds of gorgeous plumage and thrilling song were darting everywhere. We heard, nearer and ever nearer, the regular dashing of the waves against the sh.o.r.e; and now there came to us bursts of triumphant song and the harmony of many instruments of music. At length we emerged from the forest, and stood mute and motionless before the overwhelming glory of the scene before us.

Can I describe it as it appeared to me that day? Never, until my lips can speak, and your heart understand, the language of the royal courts above. From our very feet sloped downward toward the sh.o.r.e a golden strand many hundred feet wide, and extending on either hand far beyond the limits of our vision. This strand caught and radiated the morning light until wherever it was visible it glittered and glimmered like the dust of diamonds and other precious stones, and the waves, as they came and went in ceaseless motion, caught up this sparking sand and carried it on their crests, like the phosph.o.r.escence we sometimes see in the wake of a vessel in mid-ocean. And the sea! It spread out before us in a radiance that pa.s.ses description in any language I have ever known. It was like the white glory that shone through the windows of the Temple, and beneath this shining glory we caught in the roll of the waves the blue tint of the waters of that sea which has no limit to its depths or bounds. Upon its shining bosom we saw in every direction boats, representing all nations, but in beauty of construction far surpa.s.sing anything earth has ever known. They were like great open pleasure-barges, and were filled with people looking with eager faces toward the sh.o.r.e, many in their eagerness standing erect and gazing with wistful, expectant eyes into the faces of those upon the sh.o.r.e.

Ah, the people upon the sh.o.r.e! "Numberless as the sands of the sea,"

they stood, far as the eye could reach, far as stretched the sh.o.r.e of that illimitable sea, a great ma.s.s of beautiful souls clad in the spotless garments of the redeemed. Many among them had golden harps and various instruments of music, and whenever a boat touched the sh.o.r.e and its inmates were welcomed by the glad voices and tender embraces of their beloved ones in the throng, the harps would be held aloft, all of the golden instruments would sound, and the vast mult.i.tude would break forth into the triumphant song of victory over death and the grave.

"Do these people stand here always, I wonder?" I said softly.

"Not the same people," said a radiant being near us, who had heard my question. "But there is always a throng of people here--those who are expecting friends from the other life, and those who a.s.semble to share their joy. Some of the heavenly choristers also are always here, but not always the same ones. You will notice that most of those who arrive are led quietly away by their friends, and many others are constantly joining the mult.i.tude."

He pa.s.sed onward toward the sh.o.r.e, and left us rapt in awe and wonder.

We soon became deeply interested in watching the reunions, and found ourselves joining with rapture in the glad songs of rejoicing. Now and then a face we remembered to have seen on earth would be among the eager faces in the boats, but none that had been especially dear to us; still it made us notice more closely and sympathize more heartily with those who welcomed beloved friends. Now we would see a wife caught in the close embrace of a waiting husband; now a little child with a glad cry would spring into the outstretched arms of the happy mother; friend would clasp friend in glad reunion, and here an aged mother would be folded to the heart of a beloved child.

As one boat of more than usual strength and beauty came riding gracefully over the waves, we observed the tall figure of a man standing near her prow with his arms about a graceful woman who stood by his side. Each shaded with uplifted hand from their dazzled eyes the unwonted splendor and scanned, wistfully and searchingly, the faces of the crowd as the boat neared the sh.o.r.e. Suddenly with a great thrill of joy surging through my being, I cried out:

"It is our precious son, and his dear wife! And they have come together!"

In an instant we were swiftly moving through the throng that parted in ready sympathy to let us pa.s.s. And, as the boat touched the sh.o.r.e, with a swift movement they were both beside us--the dear daughter already close clasped to the hearts of her own happy parents who were waiting near the water's edge, while at the same instant we felt the arms of our beloved son enfolding us; and soon thereafter we were all in each other's embrace. Oh, what a rapturous moment was that! Our home life in heaven complete, no partings forever! As we stood with encircling arms, scarcely realizing the unexpected bliss, the heavenly choir broke into song; and with uplifted faces radiant with joy, eyes filled with happy tears and voices trembling with emotion, we all joined in the glad anthem:

Glory be unto the Father, and unto the Son!

Glory be unto the ever-blessed Three in One!

No more sorrow, no more parting, no more grief or pain; Christ has broken death's strong fetters, we are free again!

Heart to heart and hand to hand, Meet we on the golden strand.

Glory, glory to the Father! Glory to the Son!

Glory be unto the ever-blessed Three in One!

Alleluia! Amen!

The song rose and swelled triumphantly as the vast mult.i.tude caught it up, and the surge of the waves made a deep undertone to the melody that increased its solemnity, as with bowed heads and full hearts we pa.s.sed onward hand in hand; and the light that fell about us was purer, holier, more divine, than it had ever been before.

CHAPTER XIX.

Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder?

--[Shakespeare.

A time came when one day as I stood in my lovely room that had really become to me a shrine, and looked up into the pictured face of the Christ above me, I fancied that the tender eyes looking down into mine no longer told of a deathless love alone, but carried in their depths a pity, a loving compa.s.sion which I had never noticed there before. Then as I turned toward my couch I even fancied that his hands reached out from the canvas and rested in benediction on my head. I stood a moment in blessed peace before him, then as the hands seemed to be withdrawn, I turned and lay down for an instant's rest. But strange thoughts and fancies crept into my brain, such as I had not known in years. I felt confused and bewildered, and started up restlessly from my pillow, only to fall back again in doubt, and something akin to dread. What could it mean? Could the old unrest of earth find place in this divine retreat? Then I heard unfamiliar voices. Someone said:

"Her color is better than it has been for several days, I think."