But hush, too, these vain inquiries. We dare not give rein to imagination where Inspiration is silent. There is a designed mystery about the circumstantials of a future state. Its scenery and locality we know nothing of. It is revealed to us only in its _character_. We are permitted to approach its gates, and to read the surmounting inscription,--"Without _holiness_ no man shall see the Lord." Further we cannot go. Be it ours, like Lazarus, to attain a meetness for heaven, by becoming more and more like Lazarus' Redeemer! "_We shall be_ LIKE HIM," is the brief but comprehensive Bible description of that glorious world. Saviour-like _here_, we shall have heaven begun on earth, and lying down like Lazarus in the sweet sleep of death, when our Lord comes, on the great day-dawn of immortality, we shall be satisfied when we awake in _His likeness_! "He that was dead rose up and spoke--He spoke! Was it of that majestic world unknown? Those words which first the bier's dread silence broke-- Came they with revelation in each tone? Were the far cities of the nations gone, The solemn halls of consciousness or sleep, For man uncurtain'd by that spirit lone, Back from the portal summon'd o'er the deep? Be hush'd, my soul! the veil of darkness lay Still drawn; therefore thy Lord called back the voice departed, To spread His truth, to comfort the weak-hearted; Not to reveal the mysteries of its way. Oh! I take that lesson home in silent faith; Put on submissive strength to _meet_, not _question_ DEATH." XVII. THE BOX OF OINTMENT. Once more we visit in thought a peaceful and happy home-scene in the same Bethany household. The severed links in that broken chain are again united. How often in a time of severe bereavement, when some "light of the dwelling" has suddenly been extinguished, does the imagination fondly dwell on the possibility of the wild dream of separation passing away; of the vacant seat being refilled by its owner the "loved and lost one" again restored. Alas! in all such cases, it is but a feverish vision, destined to know no fulfilment. Here, however, it was indeed a happy reality. "Lazarus is dead!" was the bitter dirge a few brief weeks ago; but now, "Lazarus lives." His silent voice is heard again--his dull eye is lighted again--the temporary pang of separation is only remembered to enhance the joy of so gladsome a reunion.