All imperfection arising from bodily organization,
as well as from our fallen state here, has ceased,
and the soul has become a pure spirit, in a spiritual
world, engaged in spiritual pursuits. Memory is
awake; every perceptive faculty is in perfection; the
soul that sees far distant places, in a moment, in
sleep,—that holds converse with other,
but absent, minds, while the body is sealed in slumber,—not
only does not need the present body to make it capable
of perception, but when escaped from this material
condition, and from dependence upon these bodily senses,
which now are like colored glass to the eyes, it will
be far more capable than before; though the spiritual
body, at the last, will advance it to a still higher
condition. Its judgment is sound, its sensibilities
are quick, its thoughts are full of unmixed joy.
But we probably could not understand the nature of
its employments, nor its discoveries, nor its sensations,
any further than we now do from the word of God.
We have no record, nor tradition, of any disclosures
made by Lazarus, or the widow of Nain’s son,
or the dead who came out of their graves at the crucifixion,
and went into the Holy City, and appeared unto many.
The only way to account for this seems to be, to suppose
that they told nothing of what they had seen or heard.
Had they made any disclosures of the unseen world,
those disclosures would never have been forgotten.
They would have been preserved in the memories of
men, to be handed down from age to age. Paul himself
had no very distinct recollection of what he had heard
and seen in Paradise; for he says that he could not
tell whether he was in the body or out of the body.
We think in words, which at the time are intelligible,
but we often fail when we try to produce them; so
that Paul’s expression, very singular in each
part of it,—“heard unspeakable words,”—may
refer to the impressions made on his own mind in his
revelations, as not possible to be clothed in speech.
It may have been with him, upon his return to the
body, and with the risen dead, as it was with Nebuchadnezzar,
who knew that he had dreamed, and the dream had made
powerful impressions on his mind, but the dream itself
had departed from him. Now, if the bodily senses,
or the soul while in the body, cannot comprehend so
as to express what has been seen in heaven, it is
doubtful if we could understand it if it should be
revealed by a spirit from heaven. The Bible has
probably given us as definite information about heaven
as we could possibly understand—certainly
as much as God judges best for our usefulness and
happiness. But we must probably learn an unearthly
language, and, in order to this, unearthly ideas, before
we can understand the things which are within the
veil. The modes of communication in heaven between
people of strange languages, whether by a common speech,
or by the power given to the disciples at the day of
Pentecost, or by intuition, are not made known to us;
but this wonderful faculty of language, holding an