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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 28

30th

We were wondering to-day where it will be,—I mean heaven.

"It is impossible to do more than wonder," Auntie said, "though we are explicitly told that there will be new heavens and a new earth, which seems, if anything can be taken literally in the Bible, to point to this world as the future home of at least some of us."

"Not for all of us, of course?"

"I don't feel sure. I know tha somebody spent his valuable time in estimating that all the people who have lived and died upon the earth would cover it, alive or buried, twice over; but I know that somebody else claims with equal solemnity to have discovered that they could all be buried in the State of Pennsylvania! But it would page 88 be of little consequence if we could not all find room here, since there must be other provision for us."

"Why?"

"Certainly there is a 'place' in which we are promised that we shall be 'with Christ,' this world being yet the great theatre of human life and battle-ground of Satan; no place, certainly, in which to confine a happy soul without prospect of release. The Spiritualistic notion of 'circles' of dead friends revolving over us is to me intolerable. I want my husband with me when I need him, but I hope he has a place to be happy in, which is out of this woeful world. The old astronomical idea, stars around a sun, and systems around a centre, and that centre the Throne of God, is not an unreasonable one. Isaac Taylor, among his various conjectures, inclines, I fancy, to suppose that the sun of each system is the heaven of that system Though the glory of God may be more directly and impressively exhibited in one place than in another, we may live in different planets, and some of us, after its destruction and renovation, on this same dear old, happy and miserable, loved and maltreated earth. I hope I shall be one of them. I should like to come back and build me a beautiful home in Kansas,—I mean in what was Kansas,—among the happy people and the familiar, transfigured spots where John and I worked for God so long together. That—with my dear Lord to see and speak with every day—would be 'Heaven our Home."

"There will be no days then?"

"There will be succession of time. There may not be alternations of twenty-four hours dark or light, but 'I use with thee an earthly language,' as the wife said in that beautiful little 'Awakening,' of Therrmin's. Do you remember it? Do read it over, if you haven't read it lately. As to our coming back here, there is an echo to Peter's assertion, in the idea of a world under a curse, destroyed and regenerated,—the atonement of Christ reaching, with something more than poetic force, the very sands of the earth which he trod with bleeding, feet to make himself its Saviour. That makes me feel—don't you see?—what a taint there is in sin. If dumb dust is to have such awful cleansing, what must be needed for you and me? How many pleasant talks we have had about these things, Mary! Well, it cannot be long, at the longest, before we know, even as we are known."

I looked at her smiling white face,—it is always very white now,—and something struck slowly through me like a chill.