Chapter 10

"Thou knowest, O my Father! Why should I Weary high heaven with restless prayers and tears! Thou knowest all! My heart's unuttered cry Hath soared beyond the stars and reached Thine ears.

Thou knowest--ah, Thou knowest! Then what need, Oh, loving God, to tell Thee o'er and o'er. And with persistent iteration plead As one who crieth at some closed door."

"That day I went away comforted and strengthened. Do you recollect?"

"Yes; but what was your trouble? I do not remember that."

"My son, my only child, was taken so cruelly from me. He was the hope of my life, and when he answered the call to go on a mission to the islands of the sea, I let him go gladly, because it was on the Lord's business. Then some months later the news came that he had died. I was crazed with grief. I could not understand why the Lord would permit such a thing to take place. Was my boy not in His service? Why did not the Lord take care of His own?"

"And so you suffered, both because of your loss and because of your thoughts," said Rachel. "Poor sister,--but now?"

"He is with me now, and it has all been explained. We live in this house. Do you care to hear the story?"

"If you desire to tell it, yes."

"You seem so near and dear to me that I may tell it to you. My boy, while on his mission, was tempted. He has told me all about it--he was tempted sorely. He was in great danger, and so the Lord, to prevent him from falling into the mire of sin, permitted him to be taken away. They brought his lifeless body home to me, but his spirit went back to its Maker pure and unspotted from the sins of the world,--and thus I found him here, a big, fine-looking man as he was. You ought to see him."

"Mother," someone called from the direction of the house.

"That is he now," said the mother, rising.

"Mother, where are you? Oh!" the son exclaimed as he caught sight of the two women. He came up to them and rested his arm tenderly on his mother's shoulder. He was big and handsome, and Rachel's eyes dropped before his curious gaze.

"David, this is Sister Rachel, whom I first met in earth-life in the temple. I think I have told you about her and what a comfort she was to me."

"I am very glad to know you," said he, as he clasped Rachel's hand. Then there was a pause which promised to become awkward, at which David said:

"Mother, I want to show you something in the back garden. You know I have been experimenting with my roses. I believe I have obtained some wonderful color effects. You'll come also?" he asked Rachel.

The three walked on together into the garden where David exhibited and explained his work. When, at length, Rachel said it was time she was going, the mother urged her to come again.

"I'm going along with Sister Rachel to her home, and to find out where she lives," explained David, as he stepped along, unbidden, by Rachel's side.

And so these two walked side by side for the first time. They talked freely on many topics, she listening contentedly. They smiled into each other's eyes, and at the end of that short journey, something had happened. True love had awakened in two hearts. Through all the shifting scenes of earth-life, nothing like this had ever come to this man and this woman. Love had waited all this time. The power that draws kindred souls together is not limited to the few years of earth-life. While time lasts, God will provide sometime, somewhere, in which to give opportunity for every deserving soul. Here were two whose hearts beat as one; but one must needs have left mortality early in his course, while the other went on to the end alone. The reason for this was difficult to see by mortal eyes, but now--

"I'm coming again to see you," said David, as he prepared to depart. "I have so much to tell you; and you,--you have said very little. I must hear your story too."

"I have no story," said she. "My earth-life was very uneventful. I just seemed to be waiting--"

"Yes?"

But Rachel was confused. Her simple heart had spoken, and true to earthly habit, she now tried to cover up her tell-tale words; but he saw and understood, and as they stood there, his heart burned with a great joy.

"Good-bye," he said, as he took her hand, "may I come again soon?"

"Yes;" she answered. "I shall be pleased to see more of your beautiful flower garden."

This was the beginning of a courtship, not the less sweet because it had been postponed for so long; not the less real, from the fact that the man and the woman were spiritual beings. "Sin," said the apostle, "is without the body;" so love and affection are attributes of the spirit, whether that spirit is within or without a tabernacle of flesh. And this courtship did not differ to any great extent from all others which had taken place from the beginning of time. There were the same timid approaches and responses; the getting acquainted with each other, wherein each lover's eyes glorified every act in the other; the tremulous pressure of hands; the love-laden looks and words; the thrill of inexpressible joy when the two were together. Neither was this courtship exceptional. Among the vast multitude in the spirit world there are many who did not mate in the brief time allotted to them in the earth-life; therefore, congenial spirits are continually meeting and reading "life's meaning in each other's eyes."

Rachel, though she claimed to have no "story" to tell, interested David greatly in her account of how the Lord had chosen her as one of a family to become a savior on Mt. Zion. The work for the dead had not interested him. He, in connection with the youth of his time, had neglected that part of the gospel plan; and now, of course, he saw his mistake.

"Yes," David acknowledged to Rachel, "I see my error now, as usual, when it is too late to remedy it. You who were faithful rank above me here."

"Don't say that," she pleaded.

"But it is true. Your good deeds came before you here and gave you a standing. Some of the treasures you destined for heaven were detained here, and you are now reaping benefits from them. Do I not see it all the time? When we meet new people, you are received with delight--I am unknown."

"David, what comes to me, you partake of also, because--"

"Because you shall belong to me. Yes, dear one; that is the blessed truth. The Lord has brought us together, and all else should be forgotten in our gratitude to Him.... Rachel, we would have known each other in earth-life had I behaved myself. Our lives were surely trending toward each other, and our paths would have met. We would have loved and have wedded there, had it not been for my--"

"Say no more. Let us forget the past in thinking of and planning for the future. I am happy now, and so is your mother."

"And so am I."

IV.

"Whatsoever God doeth it shall be forever."--_Eccl. 3:14._

David and Rachel were out walking when they saw another couple whose lovelike actions were noticeable. As they met, the couple stopped and the man said, "Pardon me, but we are somewhat strange in this new world. May we ask you some questions?"

"Let us sit down here together," suggested David, and he led the way to a place where they could sit quietly. "Are you in trouble?"

"Well, I hardly know," replied the man. "Anna and I are together, and perhaps we ought to be satisfied; but somehow we are not. There is something lacking."

"Yes?"

"You see, we left the earth-life, so suddenly--we were so poorly prepared for this." His companion clasped his arm as if to be protected from some impending danger. "We were boating on the lake, the boat overturned, and here we are.... We were to have been married the next day, but now--now what is our condition? We are not husband and wife; neither, I suppose, can we be, for we were taught back in that world from where we came, that there is no married condition here. Yet you two are husband and wife, are you not?"

"Not yet," replied David, "but we expect to be."

"I don't understand; you seem to know; teach us. May we be married here?"

David explained the principle of celestial marriage as it had been revealed to them in earth-life, and contrasted that doctrine with what was usually taught. "So you see," said he, "even if you had been married on that day appointed in mortality, it would have been only until death did you part. You have passed through death, and so, the contract between you would have come to an end, and you would not now be husband and wife."

"But you said that you two were to be married. How?"

"Had we been married in earth-life, it would have been for time and eternity, because it would have been performed by the authority of the Lord. What God does, is forever. Marriage must be solemnized on the earth. As our earth-days are past, we cannot go back, so the ceremony must be done for us by someone else living on the earth. Sister Rachel here, while in earth-life, did for thousands who had gone before what they could not do for themselves. Now, someone, in the Lord's own due time, will stand for her, and do for her what she did not do for herself."

The two new acquaintances listened attentively while David and sometimes Rachel instructed them on the principles of the gospel, and their application to those who were in the spirit world. They spoke to them of faith and repentance, principles which all men everywhere could receive and exercise. They explained the ordinance of baptism for the remission of sins, an earthly rite, which could be believed in and accepted by those in the spirit world, but would have to be performed for them vicariously by someone on earth. Marriage for eternity was also further explained.

"It is true," concluded David, "that in the resurrection there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage. All that must be attended to before the resurrection, which for all of us--luckily--is yet in the future. We know for a surety that if we do our part the best we know, the Lord will take care of the rest."

These four people did not part until David and Rachel had promised to meet their friends again soon, and continue the talk which had so favorably begun. When the two had left, David turned to Rachel and said:

"Did you see the lovelight glowing in their eyes when their hearts were touched with the truth?"

"Yes, as it did in yours when you were speaking."

"And in yours, too, my dear, when it was your turn."

"It's good to be a missionary--always a missionary, isn't it, as long as there is one being in need of guidance and instruction."

"It is very good, indeed, David."

"Rachel, glad news for us. We, you and I, are soon to follow our parents and our older brothers and sisters, up through the gates of the resurrection, which our Lord so graciously opened.... Yes, yes, it is true.... Into the celestial kingdom, with bodies of celestial glory and go on to our exaltation.... And, dear, the work is being done for us in the Temple of our God.... Yes, right now, it is being done. Come, Rachel, let us go and be as near as we can.... Yes, we have permission.... This is the Temple. God's messengers are here, and His Spirit broods in and around the holy place. That Spirit we also in common with mortality, may feel. You, Rachel, ought to be at home here, more so than I. Let us follow the man and the woman who are doing the work for us.... Do you see them clearly, Rachel?... Yes; we shall not forget them when they, too, come to us in the spirit, but we shall give them a welcome such as they have never dreamed of.... Now they are by the altar. Kneel here by me, Rachel,--your hand in mine, like this. Listen, can you hear? 'For and in behalf of,'... you and me.... It is done. We are husband and wife. You are mine for eternity, mine, mine.... O, Eternal Father, we thank Thee!"

David holds the fair form of his wife in his arms. He kisses her cheeks, her eyes, her lips. Then there is silence.

PART FOURTH.

Freedom waves her joyous pinions O'er a land, from sea to sea, Ransomed, righteous, and rejoicing In a world-wide jubilee.

O'er a people happy, holy, Gifted now with heavenly grace, Free from every sordid fetter That enslaved a fallen race.

Union, love, and fellow feeling Mark the sainted day of power; Rich and poor in all things equal, Righteousness their rock and tower.

Mountain peaks of pride are leveled, Lifted up the lowly plain, Crookedness made straight, while crudeness Now gives way to culture's reign.

Now no tyrant's sceptre saddens; Now no bigot's power can bind. Faith and work, alike unfettered, Win the goal by heaven designed.

God, not mammon, hath the worship Of His people, pure in heart: This is Zion--oh, ye nations, Choose with her "the better part!"

Crown and sceptre, sword and buckler-- Baubles!--lay them at her feet. Strife no more shall vex creation; Christ's is now the kingly seat.

Cities, empires, kingdoms, powers, In one mighty realm divine. She, the least and last of nations, Henceforth as their head shall shine.

'Tis thy future glory, Zion, Glittering in celestial rays, As the ocean's sun-lit surging Rolls upon my raptured gaze!

All that ages past have promised, All that noblest minds have prized, All that holy lips have prayed for, Here at last is realized.

--_Orson F. Whitney._

I.

"Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. * * * And the Gentiles shall come to thy light and kings to the brightness of thy rising."--_Isaiah 60:1, 3._

The sun in its downward course had reached the hazy zone, which, bounded by the clear blue above and the horizon below, extended around the green earth; in the west, the round disk of the sun shone through it, and tinged the landscape with a beautiful, mellow light.

It was midsummer. The sun had been hot all the day, and when on that evening two men reined in the horses they were driving, and paused on the summit of a small hill, a cool breeze reached them, and they bared their heads to the refreshing air. Not a word was spoken as they gazed on the scene before them; its grandeur and beauty were too vast for words.

Before them, to the west, lay the city, the object of their long journey--before them, it lay as a queen in the midst of her surroundings. At first sight, it seemed one immense palace, rather than a city of palaces, as the second view indicated. Street after street, mansion after mansion, the city stretched away as far as the eye could reach, mingling with trees and gardens.

Rising from the center of the city was the temple. Its walls shone like polished marble, and its towers seemed to pierce the sky, as around about them a white cloud hung. This cloud extended from the temple as a center, over the whole city, and seemed as it were a covering.

The sun sank behind the horizon; still the cloud glowed with light, as if the sun's rays still lingered there.

For ten minutes the carriage had paused on the elevation, and the two men had gazed in silence. Then the driver, as if awakening from a dream, gave the horses the word to go, as he said:

"We must drive on."

"Yes; night is coming on."

The second speaker was a middle aged man of commanding bearing. He leaned back in the carriage as they sped onward.

"So this is the world renowned city," he said, "the new capital of the world to which we all must bow in submission; within whose borders sit judges and rulers the like of which for power and wisdom have never yet appeared. Truly, she is the rising light of the world. What say you, Remand?"

"'Tis indeed a wondrous sight, your majesty. The reality far exceeds any reports that have come to us."

"It is well, Remand, that we chose this slower mode of coming into the city. Electricity would have brought us here in a fraction of the time; but who would miss this beautiful drive?"

They were already within the outskirts of the city. Although all that day they had driven through a most beautiful region of cities and fields and gardens, the latter being gorgeous with flowers and fruit, yet the glory of this city far surpassed anything they had yet beheld. Over the smooth, paved roadway, their carriage glided noiselessly. The blooming flowers and trees shed sweet odors in the air. Buildings and gardens, arranged in perfect symmetry, delighted the eye. The song of birds and the hum of evening melodies charmed the ear. Men, women and children and vehicles of all kinds were continually passing.

The shades of night crept over the landscape; still the cloudy covering of the city glowed with brilliant light. The darker the night became, the brighter became the cloud, until the palace, built of marble and precious stone, appeared in its soft, clear light like the colors of the rainbow.

"Your majesty, must we not soon seek some place to rest for the night?"

"Yes, you are right. Do you think anyone will suspect our true character?"

"No one save ourselves, within thousands of miles, knows that you are the king of Poland."

"I do hope so, Remand, for I wish to see these things from the point of view of a commoner. See, there is the pillar of fire spoken about. Truly, my good friend, the glory of the Lord is risen upon this place."

Hardly were the words spoken before the carriage drew up to a gateway, or open arch, which spanned the road. A man appeared and inquired of the travelers where they were going. On being informed that they were strangers come to see the city, the man bade them wait a few minutes. Soon he returned.

"As you are strangers and wish to rest for the night, you will please alight and receive that which you need. Your horses will be taken care of. Come." They drove along a road leading to a large house. Grooms took charge of the horses, and they themselves were ushered into a room, which, for convenience and beauty of finish, was not surpassed even by the king of Poland's own palaces. Soon fruits and bread were placed before them, and they were shown couches where they would rest for the night.

Though weary with their day's journey, the travelers could not sleep. The strangeness of it all bewildered them, and they talked about it far into the night.

Next morning they were awakened by song birds that had taken position in a tree near their open window, and were now pouring forth a chorus of welcome. How beautiful was the morning! Earth and sky were full of the perfume of flowers and the song of birds. The cloud still hung over the city.

From the garden they were called into the dining room, where a meal was spread before them. Fruits and fruit preparations of a dozen kinds; breads, cakes and vegetables, drinks from the juice of fruits: this was the bill of fare.

After they had eaten, the person who had met them the evening before, entered, and announced that their carriage was ready for their drive; or, if they chose to take the cars, they would get within the city much quicker, but, of course, would miss some interesting sights.

"We prefer to see all," replied the king.

"Then come with me."

The king and Remand followed into another room where they met a young man who was to be their escort. The first now retired, and the young man advanced and shook their hands.

"Be seated for a moment," said he. "My name is Paulus. I am to conduct you into the city, and be your guide for the day. Such is the rule here." The speaker also took a seat by the table. The king and his companion sat opposite.

"In this city," continued Paulus, "there can be no hypocrisy, no deceit of any kind. I am instructed, therefore, to tell you that your true name, character, and mission is known. You are the king of Poland, and you his counselor and friend."

The king started, changed color, and looked towards Remand.

"How--how is that?" he stammered.

Paulus smiled. "Do not be alarmed, my dear sir. You were known before you entered the first gate yesterday. These people have entertained you with a full knowledge of what you are; nevertheless, the treatment you have received has been in no wise different from that which is given to every honest man who comes to this city for righteous purposes, no matter be he high or low, rich or poor, in the estimation of the world. You see, true worth and righteousness are the only standards of judgment here. Again, you are safer here than in the house of your best friend in Poland, or surrounded by your old-time host of armed warriors; for violence is no more heard in this land, neither wasting nor destruction within our borders. Our walls are Salvation; our gates, praise; and the inhabitants of this city are all righteous. It is their inheritance forever, for they are a branch of the Lord's planting, the work of His hands, wherein He is glorified."

Neither of the strangers spoke. The words seemed to thrill them into silence.

"Come, then, let us be going."

The carriage was awaiting; but it was not the travelers' own.

"No," was Paulus' answer to their inquiry, "your horses will rest. This is our equipage."

They drove into the city.

"'Walk about Zion, and go round about her; tell the towers thereof. Mark ye well her bulwarks, consider her palaces, that ye may tell it to the generations following,'" said Paulus.

"You quote from the writings of the ancient Hebrews," said Remand.

"Yes; these 'holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost,'" was the answer.

An hour's drive through indescribable grandeur brought them to a gate in the wall which surrounded the temple, where they alighted. An attendant took charge of the horses. Paulus led the way. A word to the keeper of the gate, and they were permitted to pass. Surrounding the central building, was a large open space laid out in walks, grass plats, ornamental trees, and flowers. People were walking about. Guides and instructors were busy with strangers, who seemed to have come from all nations, by the varied manner of dress displayed, and the different languages spoken.

"This," said Paulus, "is the sanctuary of freedom, the place of the great King. From this center go the righteous laws that govern nations and peoples. It is not time yet to proceed further, so we will walk about the gardens."

"Is the great King here today?" asked Poland's ruler.

"I do not know; but the council will sit and transact all needed business. And now I will tell you another thing: All whom you have met or seen have appeared to you as mortal beings, as you or I; but in reality, in our drive through the city, you have seen many immortal, that is, resurrected, men and women; for you must remember that now the righteous live to the age of a tree, and when they die, they do not sleep in the dust, but are changed in the twinkling of an eye. These visit with us, abide with us for a time to instruct us. Because you are a ruler among the nations, you will be permitted to see the assembling of the council, and receive instruction from it. The time is drawing nigh. Let us be going."

Great crowds of white-robed men were flocking into the temple. The three followed. The king and Remand gazed in wonder at those who had been pointed out as being resurrected beings, and their wonder increased when they could see no marked difference between them and the rest of mankind, save perhaps in the calm, sweet expression of the face, and the light which appeared to beam from the countenances of the immortals. They certainly were not unreal, shadowy beings.

Entering a wide hallway, they soon arrived at the council chamber. Its glory dazzled the beholders. In the midst of this room was a vast throne as white as ivory, and ascended by seventy steps. On each side of the throne were tiers of seats, rising one above the other. The seats were rapidly being filled, but the throne remained vacant.

"The King is not here today," whispered Paulus.