Suddenly, in the chequered shade of the trees at the entrance of the garden, she stops and turns round, for a bright radiance envelops her. And, lo! there stands One, in glorious light--One in whose Divine face love is shining. Hazel bows down, her whole soul overwhelmed with reverent awe. Then her hand is taken and held with a touch which thrills her with exquisite rapture, and a voice in her ears says-- "Come, see with Me My garden." And the air, which is filled with light, grows buoyant, and, while her hand is still clasped by the Divine Guide, she is wafted upwards. Stretched out below, the hills and vales of the earth are one vast garden. All is indistinct at first; expanses of misty colour and tint; but by degrees the scene resolves itself into more definite form. The whole is intersected and watered with streams, more or less clear and pure, which arise and are replenished from a bright vapour, the Spirit of Life, which shines, issuing forth from an empty tomb in a rock in the East. There are banks of wild violets and primroses, and woods filled with anemones and hyacinths--myriads of beautiful flowers, reaching over all the world. Hazel has hardly taken in anything of the wonder of the scene, when her attention is attracted by an arch of white mist above the earth, and, as it seems, but a few paces from her. Gradually this path of mist grows clear as crystal, and the colours glancing in it take shape, and form a clear, transparent picture. A cornfield on a summer evening, filled with blossoms of poppies and corn-flowers. A wild storm sweeps over the field; the corn is broken down; the flowers are crushed beneath its weight, draggled and withered. A poppy, torn up by its roots, is whirled through the air. A mist sweeps over the crystalline cloud, and where it grows clear again the scene is changed to a wild hill-side. Scarlet and blue flowers intermingle in the distance; in the foreground lies a single poppy, withered and dying. Slowly, beside it a lily grows up; as it grows the fading poppy is stirred, touched by its leaves; and the tiny bells waving over it inspire new life and vigour, till at length, grown whole and fresh, it is loosened from the brown uptorn roots, and floats upwards, to bloom more beautiful in Paradise.