I HAVE read of one who dreamed a dream, when in great distress of mind before God. He thought he stood in the outer court of heaven, and he saw a glorious host marching up, singing sweet hymns, and bearing the banners of victory. They passed by him through the gate; and he heard in the distance sweet strains of music.
“Who are they?" he asked.
“They are the goodly fellowship of the apostles, who have gone to be with God.”
He heaved a deep sigh as he said, "Alas! I am not one of them, and never shall be; and I cannot enter there.”
By-and-by there came another band, equally lovely in appearance, and equally triumphant, robed in white. They passed within the portal; and again were shouts of welcome heard.
“Who are they?”
“They are the goodly fellowship of the prophets.' "Alas!" he said, "I do not belong to that fellowship, and I cannot enter there.”
He still waited and lingered, in the hope that he might yet go in; but the next multitude did not encourage him, for they were the noble army of martyrs. He could not go with them, nor wave their palm branches.
At last, as he walked, he saw a larger host than all the rest put together, marching and singing most melodiously, and in front walked the woman that was a sinner, and the robber that died upon the cross. He looked long, and saw there the Philippian jailer, and the like; and when they entered, he could see who they were, and he thought, "There will be no shouting about them." But to his astonishment, it seemed as if all heaven was rent with sevenfold shouts as they passed in. And the angels said to him, "These are they that were mighty sinners, saved by mighty grace.”
And then he said, "Blessed be God! I can go in with them.”
And so he awoke.