Intra Muros Part 7

"Yes, dear, I will. The waters of this lake catch the light in a most marvelous manner, as you have seen; a wiser head than mine must tell you why. They also transmit musical sounds--only musical sounds--for a great distance. The song was evidently from the distant sh.o.r.e of the lake."

"And the bell?"

"That is the bell which in the city across the lake calls to certain duties at this hour."

"There never was a sweeter call to duty," I said.

"Yes, its notes are beautiful. Hark! now it rings a chime."

We lay and listened, and as we listened a sweet spell wrapped me round, and I slept as peacefully as a child on its mother's bosom. I awoke with a strange sense of invigoration and strength. It was a feeling wholly dissimilar to that experienced during a bath in the river, yet I could not explain how. Mae said:

"One takes away the last of the earth-life, and prepares us for the life upon which we enter; the other fills us to overflowing with a draught from the Celestial Life itself."

And I think the child was right.

When we emerged from the water we found the banks of the lake almost deserted, every one having gone, at the call of the bell, to the happy duties of the hour. Groups of children still played around in joyous freedom. Some climbed the trees that overhung the water, with the agility of squirrels, and dropped with happy shouts of laughter into the lake, floating around upon its surface like immense and beautiful water-lilies or lotus flowers.

"No fear of harm or danger; no dread of ill, or anxiety lest a mishap occur; security, security and joy and peace! This is indeed the blessed life," I said, as we stood watching the sports of the happy children.

"I often think how we were taught to believe that heaven was where we would wear crowns of gold and stand with harps always in our hands!

Our crowns of gold are the halos His blessed presence casts about us; and we do not need harps to accentuate our songs of praise. We do see the crowns, and we do hear the angelic harps, when and as G.o.d wills it, but our best wors.h.i.+p is to do his blessed will," said Mae as we turned to go.

"You are wise in the lore of heaven, my child," I answered; "how happy I am to learn from one so dear! Tell me all about your life here."

So as we walked she told me the history of her years in heaven her duties, her joys, her friends, her home--with all the old-time freedom.

I found her home was distant from our own--far beyond the spires of the great city across the lake--but she added:

"What is distance in heaven? We come and go at will. We feel no fatigue, no haste, experience no delays; it is blessed, blessed!"

Not far from our home we saw a group of children playing upon the gra.s.s, and in their midst was a beautiful great dog, over which they were rolling and tumbling with the greatest freedom. As we approached he broke away from them and came bounding to meet us, and crouched and fawned at my very feet with every gesture of glad welcome.

"Do you not know him, auntie?" Mae asked brightly.

"It is dear old Sport!" I cried, stooping and placing my arms about his neck, and resting my head on his silken hair. "Dear old fellow! How happy I am to have you here!"

He responded to my caresses with every expression of delight, and Mae laughed aloud at our mutual joy.

"I have often wondered if I should not some day find him here. He surely deserves a happy life for his faithfulness and devotion in the other life. His intelligence and his fidelity were far above those of many human beings whom we count immortal."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Hark! 'tis the voice of angels]

"Hark! 'tis the voice of angels Born in a song to me, Over the fields of glory, Over the jasper sea!"]

"Did he not sacrifice his life for little Will?"

"Yes; he attempted to cross the track in front of an approaching train, because he saw it would pa.s.s between him and his little master, and feared he was in danger. It cost his life. He always placed himself between any of us and threatened danger, but Will he seemed to consider his especial charge. He was a gallant fellow--he deserves immortality.

Dear, dear old Sport, you shall never leave me again!" I said, caressing him fondly.

At this he sprang to his feet, barking joyously, and gambolled and frolicked before us the rest of the way home, then lay down upon the doorstep, with an upward glance and a wag of his bushy tail, as though to say, "See how I take you at your word!"

"He understands every word we say," said Mae.

"Of course he does; he only lacks speech to make him perfect. I somehow hoped he might find it here."

"He would not be half so interesting if he could talk," said Mae.

"Possibly not. How silken and beautiful his long hair is!"

"He has his bath in the river every day, and it leaves its mark on him also. Do you know I think one of the sweetest proofs we have of the Father's loving care for us is, that we so often find in this life the things which gave us great happiness below. The more unexpected this is, the greater joy it brings. I remember once seeing a beautiful little girl enter heaven, the very first to come of a large and affectionate family. I afterward learned that the sorrowful cry of her mother was, 'Oh, if only we had someone there to meet her, to care for her!' She came, lovingly nestled in the Master's own arms, and a little later, as he sat, still caressing and talking to her, a remarkably fine Angora kitten, of which the child had been very fond, and which had sickened and died some weeks before, to her great sorrow, came running across the gra.s.s and sprang directly into her arms, where it lay contentedly. Such a glad cry as she recognized her little favorite, such a hugging and kissing as that kitten received, made joy even in heaven! Who but our loving Father would have thought of such comfort for a little child? She had evidently been a timid child; but now as the children gathered about her, with the delightful freedom they always manifest in the presence of the beloved Master, she, looking up confidingly into the tender eyes above her, began to shyly tell of the marvelous intelligence of her dumb pet, until at last Jesus left her contentedly playing among the flowers with the little companions who had gathered about her. Our Father never forgets us, but provides pleasures and comforts for us all, according to our individual needs."

"When shall I behold the Savior? When shall I meet, face to face, him whom my soul so loveth?" my hungry heart began to cry out in its depths.

Mae, as though understanding the silent cry, placed both arms about my neck, looked tenderly into my eyes, and whispered:

"You, too, dearest, will see him soon. He never delays when the time is ripe for his coming. It will not be long; you, too, will see him soon."

So we parted, each to the duties of the hour.

CHAPTER VIII.

Sae little noo I ken o' blessed, bonnie place, I only ken it's Hame, whaur we shall see His face It wad surely be eneuch forever mair to be In the glory o' His presence, in oor ain countrie.

Like a bairn to his mither, a wee birdie to its nest, I wad fain be gangin' noo unto my Savior's breast, For he gathers in his bosom witless, worthless lambs like me, And carries them himsel' to his ain countrie.

--[Mary Lee Demarest.

The following morning my brother said to me, after an interesting hour of instruction:

"Shall we go for the promised visit to Mrs. Wickham now?"

"Indeed, yes!" I answered eagerly; so we at once set forth.

We soon reached her lovely home and found her waiting at the entrance as though expecting us. After a cordial greeting to our friend, my brother said:

"I will leave you together for that 'long talk' for which I know you are both eager, and will go my way to other duties. I will find you, later on, at home." The last remark to me.

"All right," I answered. "I am familiar with the way now, and need no attendance."

After he had gone, my friend took me all over her lovely home, showing me, with great pleasure, the rooms prepared for each beloved member of her earthly household still to come. One very large room, into whose open windows at each end the blossom- and fruit-laden boughs of the immortal trees looked invitingly, was evidently her especial care; she whispered to me, "Dougla.s.s always did like a large room. I am sure he will like this one." And I was also sure.

Returning down the broad stairway, we found it entered into a very large music-room, with broad galleries supported by marble columns, running across three sides of it, on a level with the second floor. In this gallery was a number of musical instruments--harps, viols, and some unlike any instruments I had ever seen elsewhere. The room itself was filled with easy-chairs, couches and window-seats, where listeners could rest and hear the sweet harmonies from the galleries.