Iftheyweresure，eachone，offindingamansionthere，couldnothebefarmoresure？Hislifehadbeenmorefruitfulthantheirs。
　　Hehadbeenaleader，afounderofnewenterprises，apillarofChurchandState，aprinceoftheHouseofIsrael。Tentalentshadbeengivenhim，andhehadmadethemtwenty。Hisrewardwouldbeproportionate。
　　Hewasgladthathiscompanionsweregoingtofindfitdwellingspreparedforthem；buthethoughtalsowithacertainpleasureofthesurprisethatsomeofthemwouldfeelwhentheysawhisappointedmansion。
　　Sotheycametothesummitofthemoorlandandlookedoverintotheworldbeyond。Itwasavast，greenplain，softlyroundedlikeashallowvase，andcircledwithhillsofamethyst。Abroad，shiningriverflowedthroughit，andmanysilverthreadsofwaterwerewovenacrossthegreen；andtherewerebordersoftalltreesonthebanksoftheriver，andorchardsfullofrosesabloomalongthelittlestreams，andinthemidstofallstoodthecity，whiteandwonderfulandradiant。
　　Whenthetravelerssawittheywerefilledwithaweandjoy。
　　Theypassedoverthelittlestreamsandamongtheorchardsquicklyandsilently，asiftheyfearedtospeaklestthecityshouldvanish。
　　Thewallofthecitywasverylow，achildcouldseeoverit，foritwasmadeonlyofpreciousstones，whichareneverlarge。
　　Thegateofthecitywasnotlikeagateaall，foritwasnotbarredwithironorwood，butonlyasinglepearl，softlygleaming，markedtheplacewherethewallendedandtheentrancelayopen。
　　Apersonstoodtherewhosefacewasbrightandgrave，andwhoserobewasliketheflowerofthelily，notawovenfabric，butalivingtexture。
　　"Comein，"hesaidtothecompanyoftravelers；"youareatyourjourney'send，andyourmansionsarereadyforyou。"
　　JohnWeightmanhesitated，forhewastroubledbyadoubt。
　　Supposethathewasnotreally，likehiscompanions，athisjourney'send，butonlytransportedforalittlewhileoutoftheregularcourseofhislifeintothismysteriousexperience？Supposethat，afterall，hehadnotreallypassedthroughthedoorofdeath，liketheseothers，butonlythroughthedoorofdreams，andwaswalkinginavision，alivingmanamongtheblesseddead。Woulditberightforhimtogowiththemintotheheavenlycity？Woulditnotbeadeception，adesecration，adeepandunforgivableoffense？Thestrange，confusingquestionhadnoreasoninit，asheverywellknew；
　　forifhewasdreaming，thenitwasalladream；butifhiscompanionswerereal，thenhealsowaswiththeminreality，andiftheyhaddiedthenhemusthavediedtoo。Yethecouldnotridhismindofthesensethattherewasadifferencebetweenthemandhim，anditmadehimafraidtogoon。But，ashepausedandturned，theKeeperoftheGatelookedstraightanddeepintohiseyes，andbeckonedtohim。Thenheknewthatitwasnotonlyrightbutnecessarythatheshouldenter。
　　Theypassedfromstreettostreetamongfairandspaciousdwellings，setinamaranthinegardens，andadornedwithaninfinitelyvariedbeautyofdivinesimplicity。Themansionsdifferedinsize，inshape，incharm:
　　eachoneseemedtohaveitsownpersonallookofloveliness；
　　yetallwerealikeinfitnesstotheirplace，inharmonywithoneanother，intheadditionwhicheachmadetothesingularandtranquilsplendorofthecity。
　　Asthelittlecompanycame，onebyone，tothemansionswhichwerepreparedforthem，andtheirGuidebeckonedtothehappyinhabitanttoenterinandtakepossession，therewasasoftmurmurofjoy，halfwonderandhalfrecognition；asifthenewandimmortaldwellingwerecrownedwiththebeautyofsurprise，lovelierandnoblerthanallthedreamsofithadbeen；andyetalsoasifitweretouchedwiththebeautyofthefamiliar，theremembered，thelong-loved。
　　Oneafteranotherthetravelerswereledtotheirownmansions，andwentingladly；andfromwithin，throughtheopendoorwayscamesweetvoicesofwelcome，andlowlaughter，andsong。
　　AtlasttherewasnooneleftwiththeGuidebutthetwooldfriends，DoctorMcLeanandJohnWeightman。Theywerestandinginfrontofoneofthelargestandfairestofthehouses，whosegardenglowedsoftlywithradiantflowers。TheGuidelaidhishanduponthedoctor'sshoulder。
　　"Thisisforyou，"hesaid。"Goin；thereisnomorepainhere，nomoredeath，norsorrow，nortears；foryouroldenemiesareallconquered。Butallthegoodthatyouhavedoneforothers，allthehelpthatyouhavegiven，allthecomfortthatyouhavebrought，allthestrengthandlovethatyouhavebestoweduponthesuffering，arehere；forwehavebuiltthemallintothismansionforyou。"
　　Thegoodman'sfacewaslightedwithastilljoy。Heclaspedhisoldfriend'shandclosely，andwhispered:"Howwonderfulitis！
　　Goon，youwillcometoyourmansionnext，itisnotfaraway，andweshallseeeachotheragainsoon，verysoon。"
　　Sohewentthroughthegarden，andintothemusicwithin。
　　TheKeeperoftheGateturnedtoJohnWeightmanwithlevel，quiet，searchingeyes。Thenheasked，gravely:
　　"Wheredoyouwishmetoleadyounow？"
　　"Toseemyownmansion，"answeredtheman，withhalf-concealedexcitement。
　　"Istherenotonehereforme？Youmaynotletmeenterityet，perhaps，forImustconfesstoyouthatIamonly——"
　　"Iknow，"saidtheKeeperoftheGate——"Iknowitall。
　　YouareJohnWeightman。"
　　"Yes，"saidtheman，morefirmlythanhehadspokenatfirst，foritgratifiedhimthathisnamewasknown。"Yes，IamJohnWeightman，SeniorWardenofSt。Petronius'Church。Iwishverymuchtoseemymansionhere，ifonlyforamoment。Ibelievethatyouhaveoneforme。
　　Willyoutakemetoit？"
　　TheKeeperoftheGatedrewalittlebookfromthebreastofhisrobeandturnedoverthepages。
　　"Certainly，"hesaid，withacuriouslookattheman，"yournameishere；
　　andyoushallseeyourmansionifyouwillfollowme。"
　　Itseemedasiftheymusthavewalkedmilesandmiles，throughthevastcity，passingstreetafterstreetofhouseslargerandsmaller，ofgardensricherandpoorer，butallfullofbeautyanddelight。
　　Theycameintoakindofsuburb，wherethereweremanysmallcottages，withplotsofflowers，verylowly，butbrightandfragrant。
　　Finallytheyreachedanopenfield，bareandlonely-looking。
　　Thereweretwoorthreelittlebushesinit，withoutflowers，andthegrasswassparseandthin。Inthecenterofthefieldwasatinyhut，hardlybigenoughforashepherd'sshelter。