The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-02-06

d
again. If it had lived. the loved thing
would itself have had son. who,
when he closed the weary eyes and
smoothed the wrinkled forehead of
his mother. would have prayed God to
{ see that old face smile again in the
hereafter. To the son heaven will be
no heaven If the sweet Worn face is
not in one Of the choirs. He will look
for it through the phalanX of Gods
! gloritied angels. and the youth will
look for the maid, and the mother for
the baby. And whose then shall she
be at the resurrection of the dead?
"Ah, God! All. God! A beautiful
dream!" he cried. But can any one
dream it not sleeping?"
Waldo paced on. moaning in agony.
and longing.
He heard the Observation-Disclosures
"What have you to do with flesh.
the gross and miserable garment in
which spirit hides itself? You shall
see her again. But the hand, the foot,
the forehead you loved you shall see
no more The loves, the fears, the
frailties, that are born with the flesh,
with the flesh shall die. Let them diei
There is that in man that cannot die
q seed, a germ, an embryo, spiritual
essence. Higher than she was on
earth. as the tree is higher than the
SEED. the man than the embryo, so
shall you behold her, changed, glori-
! fed!'
! High words, ringing well. They are
the Offering of jewels to the hungry, of
gold to the man who dies for bread.
Bread is corruption; gold is incorrupti-
BILE. Bread is light; gold is heavy.
Bread is common; gold is rare. But the
hungry man will barter all your mines
for one morsel of bread. Around Gods
throne there may be choirs and COM
panies of angels, cherubim and sera-
phim, rising tier above tier, but not for
one of them all does the soul cry aloud,
only perhaps for little human wom-
IN, full of sin. that it once loved!
Change is death, change is death!"
he cried. 81 want no angel, only She
no holier and no better, with all her
sins upon her. So give her me or give
me nothing!"
For the souls fierce cry for immor-
tality is this, only this: Return to me
after death the thing as it was before.
Leave me in the hereafter the being
that am today. Rob me of the
thoughts, the feelings, the desires, that
are my life. and you have left nothing
to take. Your immortality is annihila-
ton; your hereafter is a lie.
Waldo flung open the door and walk
ed out into the starlight, his pain
stricken thoughts ever driving him on
as he paced there.
There must be a hereafter because
man longs for it." he whispered. us
not all life from the cradle to the grave
one long yearning for that which we
never touch? There must be here
after because we cannot think of any
end to life. Can we think of begin
ming? Is it easier to say I was not
than to say I shall not bey And yet
where were we 80 years ago? Dreams.
dreams! All, all dreams and lies! No
ground anywherev'
with the matter that once Redeemed
the cheek of the child. The flowers
bloom the fairest on the last years bat
tleground. The work Of Deaths finger
cunningly wreathed over is at the
heart Of all things, even of the living.
Deaths finger is everywhere. The
rocks are built up of life that was.
Bodies, thoughts and loves die From
where springs that whisper to the tiny
soul Of man, You shall not die?" All,
is there no truth of which this dream is
the shadow?
He fell into perfect silence. And at
last, as he walked there with his bent
head. his soul passed down the steps
of contemplation into that vast land
where there is always peace; that land
where the soul. gazing long, loses all
consciousness Of it's little self and al
most feels its hand on the old mystery
of Universal Unity that surrounds it.
No death. no death!' he muttered
There is. that which never dies. which
abides. 1t is but the individual that
perlshes; the whole remains 1t is the
organism THAI vanishes; the atoms are
there. 1t is but the man that dies; the
Universal Whole Of which he is part
reworl1s him into it's Utmost self. All,
what matter that mans day be short;
chat the sunrise sees him, and the sun
set sees his grave. That of which he
is but the breath has breathed him
forth and drawn him back again That
abides; we abide"
For the little soul that cries aloud for
continued personal existence for itself
and its beloved there is no help For
the soul which knows itself no more as
unit, but as a part of the Universal
Unity Of which the Beloved also is a
part which feels within itself the
throb of the Universal Life-for that
soul there is no death.
Let us die, beloved, you and l, that
we may pass on forever through the
Universal Lifew In that deep world
Of contemplation all fierce desires die
out, and peace comes down. He OVAL
dol as he walked there saw no more