Christian fiction; Wingfold, Thomas (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
"I think I am, uncle. I should like to try. It will let the
gentlemen see what you WOULD think an ideal state of things.--It is
something, Mr. Wingfold, my uncle once dictated to me, and I wrote
down just as he said it. He can always do better dictating than
writing, but this time he was so ill with asthma that he could not
talk much faster than I could write; and yet to be so ill I never
saw him show so little suffering; his thinking seemed to make him
forget it.--Mayn't I read it, uncle? I know the gentlemen would
like to hear it."
"That we should," said both men at once.
"I will fetch it you then," said Polwarth, "if you will tell me
where to find it."
Rachel gave him the needful directions, and presently he brought a
few sheets of paper, and handed them to her.
"This is no dream, Mr. Wingfold," he said. "It is something I
thought fairly out before I began to dictate it. But the only fit
form I could find for it was that of a vision--like the Vision of
Mirza, you know.--Now read, Rachel, and I will hold my tongue."
After a little arranging of the sheets, Rachel began. She read not
without difficulty, but her pleasure in what she read helped her
through.
"'And now, said my guide to me, I will bring thee to a city of the
righteous, and show thee how they buy and sell in this the kingdom
of heaven. So we journeyed a day and another day and half a day, and
I was weary ere we arrived thither. But when I saw the loveliness of
the place, and drew in the healing air thereof, my weariness
vanished as a dream of the night, and I said, IT IS WELL.--I may not
now speak of the houses and the dress and the customs of the
dwellers therein, save what may belong to the buying and selling of
which I have spoken. Gladly would I tell of the streams that went,
some noiselessly gliding, others gurgling, some sweeping, some
rushing and roaring, through every street, all issuing from one
right plenteous fountain in the middle of the city, so that the ear
was for ever filled with the sound of many waters all the day,
ceasing when the night came, that silence might have its perfect
work upon the soul. Gladly too would I tell of the trees and flowers
and grass that grew in every street along the banks of the rivers.
But I must withhold.
"'After I had, I know not for how long, refreshed my soul with what
it was thus given, me to enjoy,--for in all that country there is no
such thing as haste, no darting from one thing to another, but a
calm eternal progress in which unto the day the good thereof is
sufficient--one great noon-day, my conductor led me into a large
place, such as we would call a shop here, although the arrangements
were different, and an air of stateliness dwelt in and around the
house. It was filled with the loveliest silken and woollen stuffs,
of all kinds and colours, a thousand delights to the eye--and to the
thought also, for here was endless harmony, and no discord.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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