Papers from Overlook House Part 14

In a little while it began, under the power of that wonderful glory, to a.s.sume the appearance of a living man. Breath came. It moved. It rose.

The one thus revived from the power of death gazed on the cloth, and traced out for himself a plan of a beneficent life. He was to live to do good. Tears were to be dried, the hungry to be fed, the heart was to have its perpetual glow of good will, to speak words of blessing, and of peace, of hope to all.

As our rich man gazed on all this scene,--mysterious hands seemed to be unwinding countless wrappings from the soul within, dead to the Creator, dead to the love of man.

A light was poured upon him. A new life was given him. He was preparing to unlock his treasures, to share his possessions with the poor. The home of sorrow became a place of attraction. He was to seek all means of lessening the sin and misery of the human family.

Thus far had his discipline proceeded. The dreams had given activity to the mind. They had bent the spirit of the man in glad submission to a yoke of obedience; and in this submission to all that was pure, he found how the great service was perfect freedom. Holy truths, which had never been great realities, but certainties that were among his deepest convictions, many of them like seeds still capable of life, but floating on the sea in ma.s.ses of ice, perhaps to be dropped on some island forming in the deep, and there to germinate, now began to be living truth, and to struggle with the soul that it might live. He bowed before the august presence,--now that the great veil that had concealed the kingly visitants was torn away. Now they were not like the magnetic power, affecting dubiously, and without a steady control, the needle of the seaman as he drew near to the coast. They had become the all-pervading power in the needle itself, affecting each particle, and turning all in attraction towards the one star, that is before every bark freighted with the precious trusts, which he now felt to be so grand a responsibility. Are not these sealed with a seal that no enemy can cause to be forged or broken?

A slight change in his dream, and the temptations began to reappear, crowding as the gay tares wind among the eddying wheat heads, and are tossed by the wind and arrest the eye. There was a sense of slight fear and doubt.

Then was he borne onward, and placed on the green sward beneath great overhanging rocks. Their awful majesty was tempered by the endless vines, laden with fruits and flowers that crept along their sides, and waved, as crowns upon their summits.

A lake spread its waters before him. As he looked far off upon its unruffled surface, he saw clouds, now dark, now radiant, floating rapidly in the sky. The wind that impelled them came in great gushes of its power, as their changing shapes, and rapid motion gave full evidence. And when the winds thus swept on, they gave not the slightest ripple to the great blue expanse of the waters. Yet they were no dead sea, but pure and living, from streams on innumerable fertile hill-sides, whose threads of fountain-issues glittered in the sun.

And the great shadows that fell from these floating ma.s.ses in the air, did not reach to the surface of the lake. They wasted themselves between the clouds and the atmosphere of tranquil light, that rested on the placid, sky-like depths of the blue expanse.

Even at his very feet, these waters seemed in depth ocean-like. His eye was never weary as he gazed into their abyss, and the sight never appeared to have looked down into them, and to have found the limit of its power to penetrate their immeasurable profundity.

Great peace again took possession of his mind! Then he felt the mysterious hand upon him, and he was lifted up from the borders of this lake, for other scenes. He could not but feel regret. He was however convinced, that any new prospect opened before him, would be one that he might earnestly desire to look upon.

The motion of the wings of the angel, as he transported him through the air, was as silent as the calm of the great lake.

They entered into a cave, so vast, that its roofs and sides were at such distance from them, that no object could be distinguished in the evening twilight. But soon he saw before him a high archway, lofty as the summit of the highest mountain, by which they were to emerge into the light.

They pa.s.sed it, and found that it opened into a deep valley.

A plain was here the prospect, and near to him the side of a precipitous hill. It had great sepulchral inscriptions on the surface of the rocks.

There was a slight earthquake. Its power caused the sides of the hill to tremble, and revealed the bones of men buried in the sands and crevices.

He proceeded--and soon he saw grave-stones on the plain. Drawing near, he attempted to read the names inscribed upon them. Soon he discovered that they recorded those of his wife and children. Foes, as he imagined, as his eyes rested on objects around, moving to and fro, lurked in the shadows.

And now his sorrow a.s.sumed a form, different from all the former remorse of his dream. A vague idea that all was a dream came to his relief.

Tears fell, bitter regret for the past continued, but he had a joyous and undefined conviction, that his family were not beyond the reach of his awakened love.

A gentle hand was then laid upon his eyelids. It pointed to the mountain near--on whose summit an eternal light rested. Such light, he thought, must have been seen on the mount of the transfiguration.

He discovered that he had the power to look into the depths of the great mountain. As his eye penetrated those great hidden ways, he found that all was revealed there, as if the earth and rocks were only air more dense than that which he breathed.

His attention was soon arrested by a rock in the centre of the mountain.

It became the sole object to which he could direct the eye.

There imbedded were evil forms, on which he looked to feel new sorrow, and to torture himself with self-upbraiding.

These forms were his work. It was evident that they should have been created in exquisite beauty. The material of which they had been made,--so precious--was a witness that this could have been accomplished. The marks of the chisel were a proof that there had been capacity--skill--which could readily have been exercised in creating that which was beautiful, and which had been perverted and abused in the production of the shapes by which he was repelled. And it was also evident, that they had been fas.h.i.+oned in a light, which would have enabled him to judge truly of every new progress of his toil, and under a sky where true inspirations would be fostered. My work! my work! he said--but he added, there is hope for the future.

As his new-found tenderness subdued him, the power that transported him from scene to scene, bore him away.

Soon he found himself standing before another mountain, which was in the process of formation.

It was made of the clearest crystal, and the light was in all its height and breadth. Angels were there, and waiting with a placid but unutterable happiness for labors that were to occupy them.

He could not rest. He must put forth into action the aims, the aspirations to fas.h.i.+on forms of immortal glory. As he moved, in his great ambition from his place, he saw that his dwelling was near at hand--close beneath this great mound of crystal, and that its light was reflected upon it.

He entered the house. His gentleness was the happiness of all. He was now the unselfish and loving husband and parent. He marvelled that so many little acts of love could be done day by day. He marvelled to see how little acts of love made up such a vast sum of happiness, and what moulding influences, whose value could not be estimated, were united with his deeds.

He found that forms were ever taken by the angels and borne away. They reverently bore them--reverencing the beauty, and above all reverencing them as the work of One who had given him aid to think of their creation, and to embody them according to the pure conception. They carried them first to a fountain of waters that flowed from a smitten rock. A crown of thorns, and nails, and a spear, were sculptured there.

Washed in this stream every particle was cleansed. Afterwards they held up the form in the most clear light, brighter than the light of any sun, and the beauty became far more perfect.

The angelic laborers then carried each to the mountain of crystal.

There it was imbedded,--but in a radiance which was to s.h.i.+ne forever, and forever.

And then to his great joy, he found that vast numbers of men came to a summit of an adjoining hill; caring not for the ascent by a narrow and arduous way. They looked into the mountain, and were entranced by the forms that they beheld. He had no thought that they would turn to him in admiration. All that he exulted in, was, that he loved them, and that they turned away to labor to make like forms, for the angelic hands,--for the waters of the cleansing fountain,--for the inexpressible light that purified,--for the place in the mountain, where they should s.h.i.+ne eternally.

Just at this moment, a bird perched on the vines around the cell. It poured forth a rich melody of song close to the ear of the sleeper. It awoke him gently from the profound sleep. The first sound which he heard was that of the sweet bell of his village church. Its gushes of sound rolled along the valley, and up the side of the great hills.

He felt that the impressions of his dream were durable. So deeply was he affected, that he scarcely thought of the visions in which the truth had been represented. He descended his path another man. Another man he entered his home. The house was a changed house that day. No one more subdued in spirit than himself, knelt in the church. No one with more determined purpose, heard that day, of the One who "pleased not himself."

IX.

_WILD FLOWERS GATHERED FOR MY WIFE._

Though these sweet flowers are in their freshest bloom, They had a beauty as I gathered them Which thine eye sees not. For with every one New l.u.s.tre in the varied colors shone, A purer white melted beneath the eye, A sweeter fragrance came from dew-gemmed leaves, Advanced in beauty as I thought of thee.

Thou seest that they grew wild in wood and fields Teachers of love and wisdom. Some I found In deep pine shades, where the sun's straggling beams Through bending boughs may reach them.

Holier rays Through deeper shades can reach the broken heart, Through deeper shades can foster heavenly growth Of beauty for the everlasting fields; Through more dense shades can reach the good unknown To human fame, yet left to bless the world.

These flowers and leaves that ripen un.o.bserved But for our eyes, had withered with the frost, And none had blessed G.o.d for their loveliness.

They give their little power unto the wind To purify for men the air they breathe,-- Air wafted far by every rising breeze.

And so a myriad of the little deeds, Done by the men that walk in Christ's blest steps, Add health unto the living atmosphere Where men breathe for the strength of highest life.

Deeds go out on a sea of human life, And touch a myriad of the rolling waves, Send the great sea a portion of unrest, Which saves its surface from the mould of death.

These flowers are memories that I had of thee During my wandering to the distant home, Where sickness was, and many an anxious care, Where there was need that Christ's work should be done.

Oh! if these paths we tread with our soiled feet, On this world far from scenes where all is pure, Our feet not yet in laver cleansed from soil, In wave by angel stirred and all so bright, Where gleams are on the waves from his own sun, Are skirted with these fragrant beauteous forms, What shall surround our path in Paradise?

Flowers have a language; so they choose to say.

Each speaks a word of pure significance.

Thus in the fields of nature we can print, Where flowers shall be the type, a beauteous book-- With joyful eye can read the beauteous book.

With all my love of flowers, here is a lore Which is to me unknown. I have to turn Over the pages of that pictured book To spell each letter as a little child.

But this I know, that none can e'er mean ill.

Flowers are too pure, as angels sowed their seed On earth in pity for a burdened race.

And where their smiles have rested there came forth These witnesses that men are not alone.

And also this is lore from nature's school-- That speak they as they may--whate'er they mean Of faith to be unshaken through our life, Of love that never wanes, true as the star, They cannot speak of faith or tender love, Which I--flower-bearer--do not speak to thee In this my offering of far-gathered spoils.