Part 26

The boundless circle of angels, who love each other above, pressed around the sympathetic one, and promised their beloved to surround him with heavenly rays after the instant of his death; thereby he might know that death had been; and his brother, whose kiss opens our cold lips, as the morning light does the chill flowers, gently touched his forehead, and said: "When I kiss thee again, my brother, thou shalt have died upon the earth, and will be again with us."

Loving and moved, the Angel descended to the battlefield, where only one beautiful, ardent Youth still panted, and heaved his shattered breast. Near the hero stood his Betrothed alone. He could no longer feel her hot tears, and her sorrow passed him unrecognized, like a distant battle-cry.--Then the Angel quickly clothed himself in her dear form, rested by him, drew the wounded soul with one hot kiss out of the cloven breast, and gave it to his brother on high, who kissed it for the second time, when suddenly it smiled.

The Angel of the last hour passed like a lightning-flash into the deserted frame, shone through the body, and stirred the warm life-stream again with the strengthened heart. But how was he affected by this new clothing of the body! His clear eye became confused in the whirl of unwonted, nervous life;--his once flying thought waded now slowly through the atmosphere of his brain,--the moist, faint-hued vapor dried away from all objects which formerly hung, autumnal-like, floating over them; now they pierced him out of the hot air with burning, painful spots of color,--all sensations became more gloomy, yet stormier and more nearly allied to _self_; and they seemed to him to be like instinct, as those of the beasts appear to us. Hunger tore him, thirst consumed him, pain stabbed him. Alas! his breast, torn and bleeding, heaved upward, and his first breath drawn was his first sigh after the heaven he had left! "Is this the death of man?" he thought; but as he did not see the promised token of death, neither angel nor the surrounding heavenly flame, therefore he perceived this to be only the life of man.

In the evening, the earthly strength of the Angel declined, and a crushing globe seemed to revolve about his head. Then Sleep sent his messengers. Images of the mind shifted out of the sunshine into a misty fire; the shadows of the day were thrown upon his brain; they came confused, and colossal, one upon another, and the world of sense reared itself uncontrolled and poured in upon him. Then Dream sent his messengers. Finally the funereal veil of Sleep wrapped itself thickly about him, and, sunk in the vault of night, he lay there lonely and motionless, like us poor mortals. But then, thou, heavenly Dream! didst descend, with thy thousand reflecting-glasses before his soul, and didst show in all of them a circle of angels and a radiant heaven; and the earthly body seemed to fall away from him with all its thorns. "Ah!" said he, in vain rapture, "my sleep was also my death." Yet when he awoke again, with his compressed heart full of heavy human blood, and looked out upon the earth and upon the night, he cried, "I saw the angels and the starry heavens; but it was only the image of Death, and not his presence."

The Betrothed of the translated hero did not mark that an angel only dwelt in the breast of her beloved; yet she loved the purified aspect of the wounded soul, and still gladly held the hand of him who had past so far away. But the Angel loved her deceived heart with the love of a man's soul in return; jealous of his own nature, he wished that he might not die before her, but love her so long that she might forgive him, when they met again in heaven, for having clasped together upon her breast an angel and a lover. Yet she died sooner; the late sorrow had bowed the head of this flower too low, and it lay broken upon the grave. She sank before the weeping Angel, not like the sun, who before all-beholding Nature casts himself so gorgeous into the sea that its red waves strike the very heaven, but like the tranquil moon, who, in the midnight, silvers the vaporous air, and sinks down unseen behind its dim veil. Death sent his gentler sister Unconsciousness before; she touched the heart of the Betrothed, and chilled the warm countenance; the flowers of her cheek withered; the pale snow of winter, under which the spring of eternity grows green, clothed her forehead and her hands. Then a burning tear broke from the swelling eye of the Angel, and, while he thought his heart loosed itself in the form of a tear as a pearl from the brittle shell, his Betrothed, awaked to the last delirium, moved her eyes once again, drew him close to her heart, and died as she kissed him, and said, "Now I am with thee, my brother!" Then the Angel believed his heavenly brother had given him the sign of the kiss and death. Yet no radiant heaven surrounded him, nor aught but funereal darkness, and he sighed because this was not his death, only the anguish of man over the death of another.

"O ye afflicted mortals!" he cried, "how can ye weary ones survive this! How can ye become old when the circle of youthful forms breaks and lies at length altogether scattered around,--when the graves of your friends lead down like steps to your own,--and when age becomes like the silent, blank evening hour of a cold battle-field! O ye poor mortals! how can your hearts endure it?"

The body of the translated hero-soul placed the gentle Angel among hard men, their injustice, and the distortions of Vice and of Passion; about his figure, also, was laid the thorny girdle of sceptres bound together, which compresses the hemispheres with its stings, and which is always laced more tightly by the great; he saw the claws of crowned and emblazoned beasts fasten themselves on their displumed prey, and heard it panting with enfeebled beating of the wings; he saw the whole terrestrial globe encircled in the winding swarthy folds of the giant-serpent, Vice, plunging and concealing its poisonous head deep in the breast of man. Then the hot sting of enmity was made to shoot through that tender heart, which, during a long eternity, had lain in the warmth of angelic love, and the holy love-fed spirit was forced to shudder over an inward dissolution. "Ah!" said he, "the death of man is full of woe!" Yet this was not death; for no angel appeared.

Thus in a few days he became weary of this life which we bear for half a hundred years, and he longed to go back. The evening sun attracted his kindred spirit. The wounds of his shattered breast exhausted him with pain. He went out with the evening glow upon his pale cheeks to "God's Acre," that green background of our life, where the forms which he had once stripped of all their beautiful souls were now crumbling away. He placed himself with sorrowful longing upon the bare grave of his unspeakably beloved and departed bride, and looked towards the fading evening sun. Seated on this dear knoll, he regarded his suffering body, and thought: Thou also, tender breast, wouldst be lying here in decay, and wouldst give no more pain, did I not support thee. Then he reflected upon the grievous life of man, and the throbs of the wounded breast showed him the pangs with which mortals purchase their virtue and their death, and which he had joyfully spared the noble soul of this body. Deeply touched by human virtue, he wept out of his boundless love for men, who, amid the craving of their own needs, under low-hung clouds, behind mists which stream over the sharp-cutting paths of life, never turn away from the lofty star of duty, but in their darkness stretch out loving arms towards every suffering breast they encounter, while around them nothing glimmers but the hope of setting like the sun in the old world, in order to arise in the new.

Just then the ecstasy opened his wounds, and blood, the tear of the soul, flowed from his heart upon the cherished knoll,--the dissolving body sank quietly towards his beloved,--tears of rapture broke the sunset light into, a rosy, swimming sea,--distant echoing tones, as of the earth passing wide through ringing ether, played in the vaporous lustre. Then a dark cloud or short night shot by the Angel, and was full of sleep; and now a radiant heaven opened and overspread him, and a thousand angels shone around. "Art thou again here, thou deceiving dream?" he said. But the Angel of the first hour stepped through the rays to him, and gave the sign of the kiss, and said: "That was death, thou immortal brother and heavenly friend!"

And the Youth and his beloved softly repeated the words.

A DREAM AND THE TRUTH.

WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF A MOTHER FOLLOWING THAT OF HER HUSBAND.

Sleep buries the first world, its nights and sorrows, and brings to us a second world, with the forms we have loved and lost, and scenes too vast for this little earth.

I was in the Isle of the Blest, in the second world. This I dreamed. The stars were nearer; the heaven-blue lay on the flowers; all the breezes were melodious tones; and repose and ravishment, which with us are sundered, there dwelt conjoined. And the dead, from around whom had fallen that mist of life which veiled the higher heaven before, rested like mild evening suns in the azure ether.

Then, behold, the earth rose out of the deep beneath, on her course, and the Spring had covered her with his blossoms and buds. As she drew nearer to the Isle of the Blest, a voice full of love cried, "Look down, ye dead, on your old home, and see the beloved who have lost, but not forgotten you."

For in the spring the earth always passes by the eternal World of the Blest, whose off-cast husk sinks into its clods; and therefore it is, that in the spring poor mortals experience such a profound longing, so powerful a presentiment, and so many haunting recollections of their lost beloved.

After the voice, all the Blest stepped forward on the shore of the Supernal Isle, and each one sought on the wan earth the heart which had remembered him. One noble being gazed down, seeking after his spouse and after his children, around whom the glad spring-tide of earth was flowing; but _they_ had no spring.

Alas! the father now saw his wife racked with anguish, and his children dissolved in tears. He discerned, in the strangling hand of Pain, the pallid form whose convulsed heart now reposes, and whose moistened eyes are now shut and cold; and beside it he recognized the loving companion of his former life fatally bleeding on the thorns of earthly martyrdom. And as sorrow, with glowing iron stylus, graved in the crumbling image life's farewell letter, and as she lost hope, but not yet patience, and as her fading eye desired no further happiness save that of her children, and as these could only share, but not remove, the sleepless nights of their mother, the affectionate father sank down, weeping, and prayed: "Eternal One, suffer her to die! Break the agonized bosom, and give me my friend again, and heal the wounded form at last under the earth. Eternal One, suffer her to die!"

And as he prayed, the weary heart here in its martyr-life heard him, and his faithful wife returned forever to his heart. Why weep ye, tender children, that your parents, after the same sufferings, should now have the same joys? that now, after their winter of life, an everlasting May has dawned on their souls? Does the painted spring-house under the earth trouble you, or the black boundary-hill on the earth, or the dread hand of decay, which extinguishes earthly scars and wounds and the whole body?

No, let the Spring scatter his flowers on their cold faces, and dry the tears on yours; and when you think painfully of them, comfort yourselves with saying, "We tenderly loved them, and no one has wounded, save He who now heals them."

THE BEAUTY OF DEATH IN THE BLOOM OF YOUTH.

In the lives both of men and of women, the period of the deepest happiness will be found to be, not that of childhood, but of youth. The joys of childhood are like the spring flowers,--beautiful, but small; like the tinted forget-me-not,--pretty, but without fragrance. The higher and more brilliant joys of knowledge and the affections are as yet undeveloped; the world of the ideal lies wrapped, as it were, in a dark-green bud.

With what other and what brighter radiance is the period of youth encircled!--that heavenly time of our first friendship and our first love,--of our first poem and our first philosophy,--of our first full enjoyment of nature and music and the drama,--of our first castles in the air, and our first vigorous training for active life. And this period is not simply irrecoverable,--that is the case with all past time,--but for the very reason that in its perfect bloom its only office is to minister to the fruits it so beautifully enfolds, it is the highest and the culminating period; for there is necessarily a greater productive force present in the process than in the results of development, in the flower of youth than in the ripeness of manhood. In his more advanced years, one is seldom led to enter upon a new path of knowledge or a higher moral life; but in his youth, one gives himself up, with inextinguishable fire, to some system of philosophy, or some total change in his moral life. It calls for more strength in a man to be converted than to stand still.

As the highest bodily strength and the most perfect health, the probability of the longest life and the greatest beauty,--in short, the best bodily attributes,--belong to the period of youth, so, and for that very reason, the intellectual wealth which comes not by acquisition, but by inheritance, is the largest. Great attainments, experience, and skill are certainly the fruits of age and of labor; but what are these things, compared with the ideal enjoyments which come of the first sciences we study, when the tree of knowledge, grafted upon the tree of life, puts forth its branches,--compared with the delight with which the new truths of geometry, or of philosophy, or of any favorite science new-born to us, fill the soul? For even in science, however far its limits may be pushed, one is ever descending from the height of the ideal to the vulgar level of reality.

Youth is the full moon, illumined by the magic light of the sun. Age is the new moon, upon which the day-earth (life) throws a meagre light.

A DREAM OF A BATTLE-FIELD.

I dreamed that from far off in the darkness I heard groans which seemed to come from every quarter to which I turned. At length they came only out of the gate of a valley which led between two, rocky ridges, where the darkness was illumined only by the red light of a comet, with its sparkling eye, and its tail sweeping back and forth like that of a tiger thirsty for blood. Then several wagons, filled with amputated hands grasping one the other either in prayer or struggle, came softly towards me on unrevolving wheels; and one small wagon also, full of eyes without eyelids, which grimly gazed upon and mirrored one another. A long metal coffin, mounted on the wheels of a gun-carriage, was with difficulty pulled along by iron elephants. On it was inscribed, "The ashes of the tenth army." With frightful exertion it was dragged like a tall tree round the corner of the narrow, rocky valley,--forced to bend by the weight of its contents, and the end of it seeming never to come.

Over the earth, and the sorrow of it, was a round ball of fire like a sun, whence came incessant flashes of lightning. And thirsty people opened vessels full of vipers, which darted out, and stung them to more burning thirst.... A crown, great like a shield, and red-hot, came whirling down with circular motion into a group of soldiers dancing, and scattered them. Upon still-gaping wounds it rained down thistles, which took root quickly and grew; and upon every fallen corpse struck a thunderbolt, and slew it again. I looked up to the heavens for consolation; but there, in the place of the sunset's glow, and the colors of the dawn, and the northern lights, was smoking blood. Swift as an arrow, villages and cities shot through the air like long clouds of ashes; some few streets only, which had been blown up by mining, hanging fast in the sky, with the remnants of houses and of men clinging to them. On a neighboring mountain were glaciers and ice-peaks, upon which children were transfixed; and on the distant summits, whence one could look down upon the battle-field, were parents and children and brides, eagerly gazing upon a mirror held over it.

At length the gate sprang open, and broke in pieces on the battle-field, and the storm of woe burst forth. Then I looked in upon that terrible world, and fell senseless to the earth; for what I saw was too horrible for man to look upon or to remember.

Gradually it seemed to me in my swoon as if this frightful field was moving further and further off, while its sounds of horror died away into songs of swans. And out of the distance floated up to me, on the gentle breezes, the tones of shepherd's flutes,--now far off, now near,--breaking, at length, with full sound upon my ear. And then I was lifted up and borne along on wings of ether, with the light breaking through my closed eyelids. And a creative finger touched me, and high in heaven, upon a green cloud, I opened my eyes. Above me was the blue abyss of the stars; below me stretched a blue ocean, on whose horizon glittered, in the glow of the sunset, the countless islands of the blessed; around me floated scattered cloudlets, tinted with the red and white of roses and of lilies, and with the many colors of manifold flowers.

"Who, O God, has brought me to life out of my woe?" I cried.

"Child of man, it is my Father who has done it," answered a soft voice very near me. But I saw no form of any person; only a halo of glory hovering near me indicated the place of the invisible being.

Under the stare now, on high, rose again, like the songs of the spheres, the old mournful tones. The islands on the horizon began to move, and swim in joy around one another. Many of them dipped into the dark waves, and came up again brilliant as the colors of the morning. Some went down into the sea, and reappeared covered with pearls. But one of them, crowned with cedars and palms and oaks, with strong young giants on its shores, went straight out into the ocean, toward the east.

"Am I upon earth?" I inquired.

"Ask me not," replied the voice, "for I know all thy thoughts, and will answer thee in thy heart. Thou wilt be upon the earth when it rises in the east from the sea; beneath the sea it circles swiftly round the sun. The sea of time is the wave on the ocean of eternity."

As if borne upon a stream, the cedar island came ever nearer to the green cloud. Youths greater than those of earth looked down upon the blue sea, and sang songs of gladness,--or gazed in rapture upon the heavens, and folded their hands in prayer,--or slumbered in arbors of rainbows and tears of joy. Behind them stood lions; above them circled eagles.

"Upon the cedar island dwell men _who, like me_, have died for the earth; but in earthly faces shall it be revealed to thee how the Infinite Father rewards those who have shed their blood for their country. The youths who are looking down into the waves have a nearer view of their old earth moving in the waters, as the island moves with it. They see only happy countries, and their friends who rejoice in their deeds, and posterity which praises them. And every flower which sprang from their blood is shown to them of God.

"Those who are gazing up to heaven, and praying, see an altar upon every sun,--and greater brethren who make higher sacrifices to the Highest; and they are entreating the Father to summon them also to still higher sacrifices. And when he thunders, he calls them.

"Those who are slumbering in tears of joy are seeing their brother soldiers dying bravely, and are comforting them in death, and welcoming them in tearful recognition as they pass from the earth to the island."

And now white flowers floated up from the earth to the surface of the sea, and all the sleepers awoke. The flowers were the souls of their mothers, who in death were following their sons fallen upon the battle-field; and the flowers became angels and flew towards the youths. It was an endless dying of endless joy. The soft murmurs of love from those who thus again found one another stirred the lilies and the roses to sounds as of harps. But as the mothers breathed the vibrating air and their hearts beat tremulously in harmony with the sound, they died away and exhaled into a flower-cloud. And the cloud arose and floated along the heavens to the distant islands where dwell the good mothers and the happy brides, longing still for the time when all the islands of the blessed were one fixed land of promise.

"Ye sons of men, joy is an eternity older than pain, and ever will be so,--for that has scarcely existed. Sacrifice ye, then, time to eternity."

A noble old man with the martyr's crown on his head looked up to the green cloud and prayed to the voice near me. Then saw I mirrored in the old man's eyes the form of the being near me. And my heart was humbled before the greatest man of earth as he repeated to me again the words, "Sacrifice time to eternity."

And now there came up from the sea near the cedar island a smoke as of a volcano, but throwing out only crowns of oak-leaves and palm-branches and streams of light. And at length a vast altar covered with young men and old, sleeping, rose from the waves. But when the light of heaven touched the sleepers they awoke suddenly, and, rushing upon the island, fell upon the breasts of their old comrades in arms. And the stars of heaven shone over them in glad, undying token of their union. The oak-forests rustled and the lions roared and the eagles, circling in the air, bathed themselves for joy in the fire and the lightning which shot from the stars. And the storm spread itself over the universe, and scattered balls of fire like suns, and thundered as with the noise of many worlds, and mingled its hot tears of joy with those of the heroes. And from below the sea came a dull echo from the earth. Then the cloud sank upon the island, and with a rushing sound received up into itself the heroes who had prayed to the Father to permit them to sacrifice in higher worlds.

When the storm had disappeared with them behind the stars, the vastness of creation appeared. All being rejoiced in eternity. The worlds lay along the heavens like an Alpine chain; the suns encircled the primal source of light; and covering all was the Throne of God.

"Pray before thou wakest, for the earth, too, will disappear," said the voice near me. And my whole heart was filled with prayer by the very nearness of this higher being. But the green cloud now moved more rapidly with me eastward toward the approaching earth; and the cedar island floated with its happy multitudes towards the other islands. The sea glowed in the east as with the colors of the dawn; and deeper and deeper sank the green cloud into the aurora of earth.

Suddenly, then, the halo of glory round the head of the invisible being became as a great rainbow, and was absorbed in an infinite radiance which filled the heavens.

And the earth passed away like a summer night.