At St. Peter’s Gate

At St. Peter's Gate By Nephi Anderson

In my dream I came, at last, to the gate of the Heavenly City, where sat St. Peter, having the keys to let men in, or power to turn them away. I saw an innumerable host going from this world to the next, but it was given me to see closely and to hear distinctly of that which transpired with a few only. Of these I shall here bear record as clearly as I can. First, there came a Painter of Pictures. He seemed greatly interested in the artistic beauties of the Heavenly Gate, and the glimpses of the glory within. Saint Peter sat awaiting his com- ing up to him and his asking: "May I go in?" "If you are worthy," replied Peter. "I hope I am. But, kind sir, what do you mean by being worthy?" " 'Blessed are they that do his [the Lord's] commandments that they may enter in through the gates of the city.' The Lord is within. If you have served him, he will be pleased to see you, if not—" — "Let me explain " It seemed to me that the man stum- bled in his words. "Yes, go on," said St. Peter. "I am an artist. I have used the talents with which the Lord endowed me. I have put upon enduring canvas the beau- ties of God's creations." "That is good. And where are these beautiful pictures?" "In the finest art galleries of the world." "Where they have given joy to the multitudes of the earth's inhabitants, I suppose." "Well, you see, the common people never could understand or enjoy the highest forms of art. It was the cultured only to whom they really appealed." "I should like to see these pictures," St. Peter mused; "but perhaps some of these people coming to enter the city will tell me of them." The Artist looked, then shook his head. None of these were at all likely tohave seen his pictures. The stream of people went by, and it seemed in my dream that St. Peter left the

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Painter of Pictures standing by himself while a very fair and beautiful woman came to the gate. "May I enter?" she asked with a smile. "What have you done to be worthy?" questioned Peter. "I am a Singer. The world from whence I came was pleased to call me a great singer. I have a wonderful voice." "A gift from the Lord." "Yes; certainly." "And so you desire to return to the Lord's presence to show him what you have done with his gift?" "Yes, that's just it," replied the Singer eagerly as if this happy thought were new with her. She appeared to move towards the Gate, as if the matter were settled. "Hold a moment," said the keeper. "Tell me what you have done. It matters little what you intend doing, but what have you done up to this hour?' "0 kind sir," she pleaded, as if she saw refusal in Saint Peter's face; "I have worked so hard. Ten earthly years I studied under the world's most skilful masters to train my voice. I sacrificed for this. I put my whole soul into my work, and it was hard work. But I succeeded." "Yes; and then?" "Whv, then I sang." "When? where?" "Before kings and emperors." She said it as if that were sufficient to prove her right to the City. "I should like to hear your wonderful voice," said Peter, "hut that is not permitted here and now. I hope you will par- don me for telling you, as I must tell all, that personal testimony alone is not enough. 'In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.' Now, will you kindly step aside for a moment and view the people going by. When you find one who has heard you sing, bring him to me." The beautiful Singer'-* face grew very sober indeed, as she looked on the people. "Why, these are very common people," she said. "None of these ever attended my concerts. These are not grand opera people. They would not even understand, and I doubt if thev ever had the price of a ticket for admission to my concerts; besides, I know none of them." "If any of them ever heard vou, they will know you and come up to you to thank vou for the jov you gave them. Please — — stand aside a moment it cannot be long kindly make room for the Beggar." Then I saw in mv dream the Beggar limping forward boldly to the Gate; but St. Peter saluted him with:

—"

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"Just a moment, my brother. What do you bring into the Heavenly City to present to the King?" "I? Why, I am a beggar, a poor, unfortunate man. I

have had nothing all my days. I have nothing now. I can bring nothing." "But no one can enter the Gate in such a condition. Everyone must bring something, or else how shall the beauty and the glory of the City be established and maintained? You have always been a receiver; what have you given?" "I have nothing to give." — "No that is right not even a grateful heart and a contrite ;

spirit." At this, I saw the Beggar walk slowly away from the Gate; and then in my dream, I perceived a Writer of Books approach. He stopped by the keeper of the Gate, who saluted him re- spectfully, and asked: "Who are you?' "I am a Writer of Books. Do you not know me?" "I am sorry I do not. What did you write?" The Writer of Books named a long list. St. Peter shook his head. Evidently the fame of the man had not reached the keeper of the Gate. "I thought I was a fairly successful author," said the Writer. last novel reached a sale of one hundred thou- My sand." "Indeed! which meant that many thousand people read your book. What a wonderful power was in your keeping a power to touch the heart, and to convince the intellect of God's everlasting truth. Yes, the Master himself knew the value of the storv to teach a great truth. You know, of course, how frequentlv he said, 'The kingdom of heaven is likened unto '— "I fear you misunderstand." interrupted the Writer of Books. "I am not a preacher. Mv books are artisticallv formed stories, thev are not sugar-coated sermons. I never had patience with 'nurpose' stories." "Do vou mean to tell me that you wrote that long list of books without some definite, high ourpo=e to help those who read them on to the Gate of the Heavenly Citv? Surelv vou bad in them some message of hope, some words of comfort, some examples of faith! Here, mv brother, take your place beside the Singer, and watch closelv the passers-bv into the City. When you find among them one like unto the heroes you created, stop him, and bring him to me. He. perchance, will tell us he became what he is by the help of the ideals you set him in your books." And then, as the Writer stepned aside, I saw in mv dream, the Physician come up to Saint Peter, and I heard him say:

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"I shall be pleased to enter; but I suppose my services will not be needed in the city." " 'God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes,' " quoted the Keeper " 'and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow ;

nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain for the former ;

things are passed away'; and yet, it may be, that one so skilled as you may be needed in the manipulation of the leaves of the tree of life which are 'for the healing of the nations.' What is your name?" The new-comer gave his name; and then I thought Saint Peter went to a great Book by the side of the Gate and looked therein. "Yes," the Keeper said, "your name is here, but I see nothing to indicate that you are a Physician." — "Have I no credits no standing in your book?" "Oh, yes; but in things other than in the deeds of a Phy- sician." "That is strange. I practiced for thirty years. I had a world-wide reputation." "If that be so, you will have no trouble to be identified by some one in the procession going by to the Gate. If you will kindly step aside, I am sure you will have only a few moments to wait." The Physician looked at the people as they went by, hesi- tated amoment, then said to Saint Peter: "These will never know me. These are not the kind of people who secured my services." "Had these people no ills in life?" "Oh, I suppose so; but I was a high-priced physician. I never undertook a case under five hundred dollars; and though this is hardlv the time and place to speak of it, I often made a thousand dollars a day." "You certainlv must have been a great and wonderful phvsician, endowed richly bv the Great Phvsician who is now within the Heavenlv City. You will, no doubt, wish to meet him, and tell him of your great success." But in my dream, I thought the man hung his head a little, and did not replv. Then St. Peter continued: "Once a man, lame from his mother's womb, was carried to the gate of the temple, where he asked alms of me and my brother apostle. What I said is written: 'Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have, I give unto thee.' And he was healed. Watch, brother, nerchance you may find someone as glad and as grate- ful as this man was. Next there came a Business Man. He lingered, seemingly with no great desire to enter the Gate into the Heavenly City. "What's proing on inside?" he asked St. Peter. "The Father's business."

" "

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"Is there any money in it?" "No." "I don't know whether or not I want to go in. Of course, there's always the chance of making business where there is none; but if there's no money in it, why then — "You are right, my brother; you would not be happy with- in. Where your treasure is, there your heart is also. You have no treasures laid up in the Heavenly City, therefore your heart is not there. — With these" and St. Peter pointed to those who were without the City, "you would be much more in your ele- ment and therefore happier." As the Business Man, taking St. Peter's advice, turned about to go, I saw, in my dream, the Merchant approaching. He seemed to be looking for something, and the Keeper of the Gate addressed him thus: "Are you seeking for goodly pearls?" "I am, good sir; and I suppose it will be an easy thing to find them within the Heavenly City." "Yes, for those who have already found them. To them that have, shall be added more. Have vou been searching all this time and have not yet found the Pearl of Great Price?" "I found one, but the price was too high." "It was: all that you had?" "Yes; and that, I then thought, was exhorbitant; however, I would be willing now — "When you have nothing. How can you expect to purchase the Pearl of Great Price, if you have nothing with which to buy? There is nothing cheap, in a merchant's meaning of that term, within the Heavenly City. I fear you will have to dwell for a time with these you see wandering without the walls. You may find that for which you have been seeking there." And thus in my dream, I saw many men and women come from the earth, pass through the Gate and into the Heavenly City; and among the throngs there were many Painters of Pic- tures, Singers, Beggars, Writers of Books, Physicians, Business Men, and Merchants; but only of the few who tarried without the walls, was it permitted me to perceive distinctly. These waited with sorrowful countenances. Presently, there seemed a movement in the waiting group, and I saw the Physician come up again to Saint Peter accompanied with another, and say: "This man recognized me as a physician." "Do you know this brother?" asked Saint Peter of the new comer. "Yes, I have occasion never to forget him." "Explain." "I engaged his services for an hour. It took ten years of my savings to pay what he asked. I shall never forget him."