Epilogue

And so we come to the quiet and the glow of the sunset. We have never seen just this light on the hills before, — this solemn purple, this crimsoned gold. No; this is unique. There is no call to battle in this subsiding light. “Sunset and evening star” are not the signals of war; they are signals under which we would, in our weariness, foregather with Christ, that He may break bread with us after the journpy of disappointment and partial shame. What «we missed at Jerusalem we may see at Emmaus. Who would willingly die in the furnace-like city? Better die in green Bethany, or near the cool Siloam brook. It is even so that God often takes His workers away from the tumult and the noise, and sends them into the quiet village, whence they may the more clearly see what I now call Yonderland. I like to

think of it by that name. “Yonder” is a Bible occurring where all the great words occur — that is to say, in the book of Genesis, and “land” is a word which occurs ill the same infinite poem; so I put the words together and think of heaven as Yonderland, the summer-city, the garden of God, the divine ideal of home. It is just over the coldest of all rivers — the last river — the Jordan on whose thither banks stands the Tree of Life. “Beyond the smiling and the weeping, I shall be soon.” When my Saviour accuses me of sin and folly and unfaithfulness, owning the justice of the accusation I shall take Him to Calvary, shoAV Him His own blood, and ask if that grace be not greater than my sin.

“Simply to Thy Cross I ciing.”

Mine has been a poor life, full of sin, red with guilt, marred by daily failures, the morning VOW always lost in the evening shame; yet God, the gentle God, will pity me: He will not leave my soul in hell nor suffer His penitent one to see corruption.

Yonderland outlines itself in morning and evening clouds, and talks to me in breezes which have wandered through heaven’s Own summer gardens. In dreams when sleep is

A TEEACHER’S LIFE

deepest I sometimes hear its freemen sing. It is a fair land. I have heard that its inhabitants shall no more say they are sick, neither shall there be any more pain. They say old friends foregather there, and see one another more clearly than they could see on earth, and that they together follow the Lamb to living fountains of water. They say that in Yonderland there are little children, but no old men — hymns through which no sob can break, — there no setting sun, no scattering storm, neither shall there be any more sea. I am glad to have heard of Yonderland. Without it the present world would often be intolerable, — with it, this life is a burden without weight. My mother sang of it as “the better land,” “the happy land,” and she will not blame me for calling it Yonderland, for I mean all that she meant and more than on earth she ever dreamed; but noAV that she is there she knows what our words cannot tell and what our faltering ecstasy cannot express.

I am nearing Yonderland. Soon, mayhap to-morroAv, to-night, I may see the King! So near is Yonderland. Even if this is reverie it should be folloAA^ed by great practical issues, for it should soften the heart, enlarge all social charity, and ennoble the gentlest affections; it should perform all the kindlj’ offices of sunlight; it should make the distressful present endurable. When I think of Yonderland forgiveness becomes easy, and hope for the worst of souls becomes brighter. So much may we owe to a world we have never seen, — the all-uniting world of Yonderland! What a land of reminiscence it must be! How man will say to man, “Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what He hath done for my soul.” Then will it be seen that even the kingdom of earth is like unto a grain of mustard-seed.

I hope to tell the inhabitants of Yonderland that the earth is advancing towards a plentiful harvest of holiness and love and brotherhood. I hope to be welcomed by many a comrade who did not quite understand me down here in the cold grey clouds of time.

“We shall know each other better
When the mists have rolled away.”

We shall then have no remembrance of jealousies and angers and selfish rivalries. The language of Yonderland has no words for base emotions, — it is a pure tongue, and speech undefiled. I want everybody to be there. Oh, promise me not to fail of the gate!

We are now in the body-land. We are to subdue our own flesh. Blessed be God, we know that the body is but for a moment; the condemnation of death is upon it; every string of this rough harj) has to be broken and torn out, and then the spirit-strings will come into play — the strings invisible — the strings which only the spirit can strike into the infinitely delicate music of light. The body is a rough and pitiless foe. It is incarnate seduction. It cannot rest until it has thrown down the soul; but it will not have time to complete its fell purpose, nor strength, if we flee to the Rock of our Salvation — the spear-wounded side of the world’s only Saviour!