The Dream of Mortal Life

Every Christian Scientist has learned that mortal existence is a dream. This was forcibly impressed upon me by a dream in which I seemed to be in a large building with many places for rest and sleep, but where there were such disturbing conditions that though I sought a quiet place I found none. From room to room I wandered, vainly seeking rest, but never for a moment being allowed to remain quiet long enough to fall asleep. The light of day finally seemed to break, and, still struggling to find a place of rest, I awoke, feeling the same desperate need of sleep that my dream evinced.

Almost at once I thought, This is mortal existence. I dream daily the disturbing conditions I seem to see around me, the pandemonium of sickness, sin, losses, failures, and every ill to which flesh is heir. In my dream, a long night of peaceful sleep had ended, yet the dream made it appear that I had not slept, that I had spent the whole night vainly searching for that which I could not find. Is it not thus always with the waking dream? Vainly we seek good but find it not because we look for it in the mortal, material things of this earth-dream. In reality we now possess in all fulness the things for which we seem vainly and vaguely to grope.

A story is told of a wealthy man, whom I will call Ah Haveit. The story, very much abridged, runs something like this: The man was rich in flocks, in herds, in money, in family ties, in respect, and honor; in all things that seem to make for comfort and happiness in this mortal life. One day a priest came, telling of a wonderful find of diamonds in a certain place. The rich man went to bed poor, for he had found discontent. He too must find diamonds. He sold his flocks and herds, and took his departure. He would not seek near home, he would go afar, and he spent all in his vain search, and was finally swallowed up by a tidal wave, a poor, outcast vagabond.

Not long after Ah Haveit left home, the man who lived on his place found in a little pool back of the house a shining piece of stone. It was a poor, shallow pool, hollowed out for the water to fill, and covered with pebbles on the bottom. No doubt it was muddy,—one had to wait sometimes for the spring to re-fill it after the camels had been watered. The man, attracted by the stone shining in the pool, picked it up and, pleased with its glitter, took it into the house and placed it on a shelf where he could often see it. It lay there some time, but finally the priest who had visited Ah Haveit and who had told him about the diamond mine, chanced to visit the place again. He was at once attracted to the shining stone. “Where was it found?” “Out in the little pool.” “Any more?” “Probably;” the owner had not noticed much, being given to other things. The priest, interested, began looking about and it was discovered that diamonds were there in plenty, for the shining stone was nothing else. The domain that Ah Haveit had left to search for diamonds in other lands was literally sown with the precious stones. It is said that this was the site of the Golconda mines.

“To point a moral and adorn a tale” so pertinent as this is hardly needful. We all overlook the things near us, and think that the desirable things are afar off. “The kingdom of God [good], is within you.” Look within and find it. The pool may be shallow, perchance nearly empty, but there may be found the precious gems of truth, the truth that makes free. “Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.” The glory,—the character of the Lord, as some quaintly translate it,—is upon thee; not shall be when you have become sufficiently good, but it is here, now and forever. Why this struggle for the very things we now have? It is not place, power, rank, or display that makes life worth living. It is Life itself, and this we ever have, and that “abundantly.”

“Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law.”