BELONGING to the higher class of London society were three sisters, two of whom were Christians; the third was an unbeliever and very flippant in mind. They were all elderly, which rendered the gaiety of the third less becoming, and also inclined her the more easily to take offense at any remarks made upon it. She hated the piety of her sisters.
One night, towards the close of the year, she had been at an assembly very late, and the next morning at breakfast was so remarkably different from her usual manner that her sisters feared she was very unwell, or had met with some misfortune which deeply affected her. After breakfast the morning was passed alone by her, in her own room.
She retired late to rest, with the air of one who expects from sleep neither alleviation nor refreshment. The next morning she scarcely touched her breakfast, and seemed in the same oppressed and uncomfortable state as on the preceding day. One of her sisters addressed her, “Anna, is it your head that pains you?” She answered, “Nothing pains me,” and added, with an effort to appear indifferent, “I have had a dream.” The sisters looked at each other, and relapsed into silence. The second day passed as the first. Anna was gloomy and moody, and her sisters, both from pity and anxiety, were unhappy for her sake.
She began the third morning as one who had no interest in life, and to whom the prospects of eternity brought neither peace nor hope. “Anna, what was your dream?” suddenly asked one of her sisters. She started, and laughed wildly. “Ah! Ah! what was it indeed I you would give the world to know, but I shall not tell you. I thought you did not believe in dreams and visions.”
The sister replied, “No more we do in general: you know they are usually the offspring of a disordered body—confused images and fancies whilst reason is dormant. But there are dreams which are as much sent from God as our afflictions. There is a verse in the Bible where it mentions God as speaking to men in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men’” (Job 33:1515In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed; (Job 33:15)).
Anna answered in a sulky mood, “Well, if you must know it, you must. No doubt it was very extraordinary. I should have thought it the effect of the ball, but that I never anywhere saw anything resembling it, and what I am going to say you must not suppose that you understand, for you never saw nor can imagine anything like it.”
THE DREAM.
“I thought that I was walking in a wide street of a great city. Many people were walking there beside myself; but there was something in their air immediately struck me—they seemed to have about them such dignity of repose, such high-settled purpose, such peace, and such purity, as were never stamped upon mortal brow.
“The light of the city was also strange; it was not the sun, for there was nothing to dazzle—it was not the moon, for it was as clear as noonday: it seemed an atmosphere of light—calm, lovely, and changeless.”
As I looked at the buildings, they all seemed like palaces, but not like the palaces of earth. The pavement that I walked on, and the houses that I saw, were all alike of gold, bright and shining, and as clear as glass; the large and glittering windows seemed like divided rainbows, and were made to receive and to emit nothing but the light of gladness. It was indeed a place where hope might live, where love might dwell.
“I could not help crying as I went along— ‘Surely these are the habitations of righteousness, of truth, and peace!’ I could not tell what was wanting to make me wish for eternity in such a place, for truly its very purity oppressed me. I saw nothing congenial, although looks of love and kindness met me in every face of that happy throng. I felt nothing responsive, and walked on, all alone, in the midst of the crowd, sad and oppressed.
“I saw they all went one way, and I followed, wondering at the reason and at length I saw them all cross over to one building much larger and finer than the rest. I saw them ascend its massive steps, and enter beneath its massive porch. I felt no desire to go with them, but I approached as far as the steps out of curiosity. I saw persons enter who were dressed in every variety of color, and in the costumes of all nations, but they disappeared within the porch, and then I saw them cross the hall all in white.
“Oh, that I could describe to you that hall! It was not crystal—it was not marble—it was not gold, but light, pure light, consolidated into form; it was the moon without her coldness, it was the sun without his dazzling rays; and within was a staircase mounting upwards, all of light; and I saw it touched by the moving feet, and by the white spotless garments of those who ascended it; it was indeed passing fair, but it made me shudder and turn away.
As I turned I saw one on the lower step looking at me with an interest so intense, and a manner so anxious, that I stopped to hear what he had to say. He spoke like liquid music, and asked me, ‘Why do you turn away? Is there such a place elsewhere? Is there pleasure in the walks of darkness?’ I stood in silence; he pressed me to enter, but I neither answered nor moved. Suddenly he disappeared, and another took his place with the same look and the same manner; I wished to avoid him, but I stood rivetted to the spot: ‘Art thou come so far,’ he said, ‘and wilt thou lose thy labor; put off thine own garments, and take the white livery.’ Then he continued to press me, until I got weary and angry, and said, ‘I will not enter. I do not like your livery, and I am oppressed with your whiteness.’ He sighed and was gone.
“Many passers-by looked at me with mingled pity and kindness, and pressed me to follow with them, and offered me a hand up the steps, but I rejected them all, and stood melancholy and disturbed. At length one young and bright messenger, stationed on the steps, came up to me, and entreated me to enter, with a voice and a manner I could not resist. ‘Do not turn,’ he said; ‘where canst thou go? Do not linger, for why shouldst thou weary thyself for naught? Enter here and taste happiness. Do not all go in, and are any rejected? Do not all tribes and all colors pass into that hall, and are they not washed and clothed and comforted?’ He gave me his hand, and I entered the hall along with him; here I was sprinkled with pure water, and a garment of pure white was put upon my shoulders, and I knew not how, but I mounted the bright stairs by the side of my happy guide.
“Oh, what a light burst upon my sight when I had reached the summit! But mortal words cannot describe it, nor can any mortal fancy in any way conceive it. Where are the living sapphires? Where are the glittering stars, that are like the bright rays in which I stood? Where are the forms of love, or the looks of love, that breathed in the numerous company that moved around me? I sunk down overpowered and wretched; I crept into a corner and tried to hide myself, for I saw and felt I had nothing in unison with the blessed existence of such a place.
“At length I saw One fairer than the rest, far more dignified, more awfully surpassing fair, and which even yet surpasses thought; to Him each eye was turned, and by His face each face was brightened; the songs were in His honor, and all seemed to derive from. Him their life and joy. As I gazed in trembling and speechless amazement, one who saw me left the company, and came to where I sat, and said, ‘Why art thou so silent? Come quickly, join in the song.’ I felt a sudden anger in my heart, and I answered with sharpness, I will not join in your song, for I know not the strain.’
“He sighed, and with a look of the most humiliating pity, resumed his place. About a minute after another came, and addressed me as he had done, and with the same temper I answered him in the same way; he looked as if he could have resigned his own dazzling glory to have changed me. If heaven can know anguish, he seemed to feel it; but he left me and returned to his place. What could it be that put such a temper into my heart?
“At length the Lord of that glorious company, of those living, breathing, glittering forms of life, and light, of the beauty of those sounds of harmony, and those songs of triumph; He saw me and came up to speak to me. I thrilled in every part with awe, I felt my blood chill, and my flesh tremble, and yet my heart grew harder, and my voice grew bolder. He spoke, and deep-toned words issued from His lips: Why sittest thou so still, while all around thee are so glad? Come, join in the song, for I have triumphed; come, join in the singing, for My people reign.’ Love unspeakable He seemed to beam upon me, as though it would have melted a heart of stone, but I said, I will not join in the song, for I know not the strain.’
“Creation would have fled at the change of His countenance; His glance was lightning, and in a voice louder than ten thousand thunders He said to me, ‘Then what doest thou here?’ The floor beneath me opened, and I sunk into flames and torments; and with the dreadful fright I awoke.”
There was a momentary silence, for the sisters were shocked and surprised at the dream, and they neither of them thought the substance of it, nor the deep impression it had made, to be the effect of any natural cause on Anna’s volatile mind.
“Anna,” they said, “we cannot help you to forget such a dream as this; we surely believe that it is from God, and it may be greatly blessed to your soul if you pray for it to be so. Your description of the Holy City may be an impression from the Word of God, for much the same account is given in the Revelation: ‘The city has no need of the sun nor of the moon, for the temple of God is there, and the Lamb is the light thereof.’ All who enter must put off their own garments and their own righteousness, and must be clothed in linen, clean and white, even the righteousness of the saints, ‘and their righteousness is of Me, saith the Lord.’
“Those who walk in the heavenly Temple, are they ‘who have come through great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and have made them white in the blood of the Lamb, and they cease not day and night praising God,’ and they sing a new song, such as no man knoweth but they who are redeemed; it is the song of Moses and the Lamb, and wisdom waits daily upon the steps to, call the sons of men into the temple, and the people of God aim to persuade them to tread in their steps, and the servants of Christ are appointed to watch for souls, and in every way and by every means, if possible, to save some. Give up your own will; listen to this fearful warning; join us, and learn the steps which lead to heaven, and how to sing the songs of Zion.”
Anna answered, “I do not want you to preach to me; I SHALL DO AS I PLEASE.” She continued in this melancholy state to the end of the week, and one morning was found dead in her room. No one knew the cause of her death. She died without disease of body—she died without any apparent change of soul!
Reader, neglect not God’s warning voice in this solemn narrative; this further knock at thy conscience may be thy last. “Today, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your heart” (Heb. 4:17).
“The Lord shall come again!
The Conqueror must reign!
No tongue but shall confess Him then,
The Lamb once slain;
Jesus is worthy now
All homage to receive,
O! sinner, to the Saviour bow,
The truth believe!”
ANON.