The gates ajar. By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps.

The Gates Ajar. 237
"I used to have a very human, and by no
means slight, dread of the physical pain of
death," she said to-day; "but, for some reason
or other, that is slowly leaving me. I imagine
that the suffering of any fatal sickness is worse
than the immediate process of dissolution.
Then there is so much beyond it to occupy
one's thoughts. One thing I have thought
much about; it is that, whatever may be our
first experience after leaving the body, it is not
likely to be a revolutionary one. It is more
in analogy with God's dealings that a quiet
process, a gentle accustoming, should open
our eyes on the light that would blind if it
came in a flash. Perhaps we shall not see
Him, perhaps we could not bear it to see
Him at once. It may be that the faces of
familiar human friends will be the first to
greet us; it may be that the touch of the humanl hand dearer than any but His own shall
lead us, as we are able, behind the veil, till we
are a l'ttle used to the glory and the wonder,
and lead us so to Him.
"Be that as it may, and be heaven where
it may, I am not afraid. With all my guessing and my studying and my dreaming over
these things, I am only a child in the dark.