To escape my present sorrow, and triumph in the midst of
my present grief, let me suppose eternity is at hand, which may very
soon, but must before long—be the case. May I not, then, with the
eye of all-triumphant faith, think I see myself walking in white with my
well-beloved, along the fields of glory, and my whole soul going out to him
in a manner it never could here below! While floods of glory from his
reconciled face overflow me, and the smile of his lovely countenance
entrances my soul forever! While I join the hosannas of the higher house,
the eternal hallelujahs, and begin the song which none can learn but the
chosen number—the sealed ones! With what transport do I mingle with the
heavenly multitudes, and, to my extreme comfort, realize that there is not
one sinner in the heavenly company, or anything expressed against the
majesty of the Most High! Where all the heavenly multitudes, transforming in
his beams, kindling in his flames, and drinking at his ecstatic rivers—are
happy beyond conception!
Such is the felicity the saints shall enter into;
yes, and in a manner, have entered into already! So short is the
interval between now and then, this present and that future
state, that their glory is as it were begun. Faith and hope entering like an
anchor within the veil, the saints of God rise at one step from this valley
of tears, to the hill of God, to the mount of communion.
Now, why should the noise of the rabble, or uproar in the
street, trouble me, when I am entering the very door of my everlasting
habitation, and shall soon be eternally out of the reach of their confusion
and murmurs? Henceforth, let the near prospect of that eternal
triumph—blunt my present grief, scatter my troubles, and spread serenity in
my bosom!