A dead man's diary : $b written after his deceaseKernahan, Coulson
Philosophy
A dead man's diary : $b written after his decease
Kernahan, Coulson
Christian fiction; Future life -- Fiction; Heaven -- Fiction; Hell -- Fiction
"'Whereat a shuddering horror seized me, so that I could look no more,
and turning to the angel, I said, "Alas! lieth the region of endless
night so nigh unto the realm of eternal day?" But he answered me
sternly, "Mortal, thou speakest that of which thou art ignorant. Come,
let us go thither, that thou mayest see, and seeing, learn." And I cast
a longing look upon the beauteous land, and, lo! on the faces of those
who walked therein, I saw a shadow as of something incomplete--not
discontent, neither sorrow nor care, but the look as of an unfulfilled
aspiration; but, even as I gazed, the angel smote the air with eagle
pinion, and I beheld no more until we came nigh unto our journey's end.
Then, every stroke of his wing bringing us nearer, he turned to me,
once again bidding me "See, and seeing, learn," but at my heart lay
such a nameless terror that I was as one spell-bound, and durst not
look upon his face. And with trembling voice I made answer, "Suffer me
rather to depart, I pray thee! for I would not that mine eyes should
behold the horrors whereof I have heard, and my soul longeth to return
to the land of flowers wherein they toil not, neither sorrow, and where
I shall cease from labour and be at rest."
"'But for the third time he bade me "See, and seeing, learn;" and as I
looked upon the land which lay below me, I saw--instead of the realm
of endless night--a shining city of such unimaginable beauty, that my
heart sank within me in breathless awe. Then the angel spread forth his
wings still and motionless, and we reposed on the azure air as a planet
floats upon the purple bosom of night; and though neither sun nor moon
was set in the peaceful heaven, I saw that there rested over the
city the soft splendour as of a world of far-off stars. There was but
one gate, and over that was written in letters of light, "_My Father
worketh hitherto, and I work_," at which I marvelled exceedingly; and
inside the gate walked beings of such divine dignity and soul beauty
that I could have knelt worshipping before them, were it not that they
too were of human form and feature; and I saw that all were earnestly
but unhastily engaged in some manner of work, at which they toiled
serenely. And on every forehead was set the seal of a high purpose,
and over the city there rested the calm of an immeasurable peace. Then
silently upstole in the sky the dawnings of a great light, deep and
wide as the infinite of Heaven, and athwart the glory thereof there
spread the fore-splendours as of the approach of an Awful Presence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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