God, "Is this Heaven?"
God said, "Yes; it is the highest."
And still we climbed. I said to God, "I cannot breathe so high."
God said, "Because the air is pure?"
And my head grew dizzy, and as I climbed the blood burst from my finger-
tips.
Then we came out upon a
lonely mountain-top.
No living being moved there; but far off on a
solitary peak I saw a
lonelyfigure
standing. Whether it were man or woman I could not tell; for partly
it seemed the figure of a woman, but its limbs were the
mighty limbs of a
man. I asked God whether it was man or woman.
God said, "In the least Heaven sex reigns
supreme; in the higher it is not
noticed; but in the highest it does not exist."
And I saw the figure bend over its work, and labour mightily, but what it
laboured at I could not see.
I said to God, "How came it here?"
God said, "By a
bloody stair. Step by step it mounted from the lowest
Hell, and day by day as Hell grew farther and Heaven no nearer, it hung
alone between two worlds. Hour by hour in that bitter struggle its limbs
grew larger, till there fell from it rag by rag the garments which it
started with. Drops fell from its eyes as it strained them; each step it
climbed was wet with blood. Then it came out here."
And I thought of the garden where men sang with their arms around one
another; and the mountain-side where they worked in company. And I
shuddered.
And I said, "Is it not
terribly alone here?"
God said, "It is never alone!"
I said, "What has it for all its labour? I see nothing return to it."
Then God touched my eyes, and I saw stretched out beneath us the plains of
Heaven and Hell, and all that was within them.
God said, "From that lone
height on which he stands, all things are open.
To him is clear the shining in the garden, he sees the flower break forth
and the
streams
sparkle; no shout is raised upon the mountain-side but his
ear may hear it. He sees the crown grow and the light shoot from it. All
Hell is open to him. He sees the paths mount
upwards. To him, Hell is the
seed ground from which Heaven springs. He sees the sap ascending."
And I saw the figure bend over its work, and the light from its face fell
upon it.
And I said to God, "What is it making?"
And God said, "Music!"
And he touched my ears, and I heard it.
And after a long while I whispered to God, "This is Heaven."
And God asked me why I was crying. But I could not answer for joy.
And the face turned from its work, and the light fell upon me. Then it
grew so bright I could not see things
separately; and which were God, or
the man, or I, I could not tell; we were all blended. I cried to God,
"Where are you?" but there was no answer, only music and light.
Afterwards, when it had grown so dark again that I could see things
separately, I found that I was
standing there wrapped tight in my little
old, brown,
earthly cloak, and God and the man were separated from each
other, and from me.
I did not dare say I would go and make music beside the man. I knew I
could not reach even to his knee, nor move the
instrument he played. But I
thought I would stand there on my little peak and sing an
accompaniment to
that great music. And I tried; but my voice failed. It piped and
quavered. I could not sing that tune. I was silent.
Then God
pointed to me, that I should go out of Heaven.
And I cried to God, "Oh, let me stay here! If indeed it be, as I know it
is, that I am not great enough to sing upon the mountain, nor strong enough
to labour on its side, nor bright enough to shine and love within the
garden, at least let me go down to the great
gateway;
humbly I will kneel
there
sweeping; and, as the saved pass in, I will see the light upon their
faces. I shall hear the singing in the garden, and the shout upon the
hillside--"
God said, "It may not be;" he
pointed.
And I cried, "If I may not stay in Heaven, then let me go down to Hell, and
I will grasp the hands of men and women there; and slowly,
holding one
another's hands, we will work our way
upwards."
Still God
pointed.
And I threw myself upon the earth and cried, "Earth is so small, so mean!
It is not meet a soul should see Heaven and be cast out again!"
And God laid his hand on me, and said, "Go back to earth: that which you
seek is there."
I awoke: it was morning. The silence and darkness of the night were gone.
Through my narrow attic window I saw the light of another day. I closed my
eyes and turned towards the wall: I could not look upon the dull grey
world.
In the streets below, men and women
streamed past by hundreds; I heard the
beat of their feet on the
pavement. Men on their way to business; servants
on errands; boys hurrying to school; weary professors pacing slowly the old
street; prostitutes, men and women, dragging their feet
wearily after last
night's debauch; artists with quick,
impatient footsteps; tradesmen for
orders; children to seek for bread. I heard the
stream beat by. And at
the alley's mouth, at the street corner, a broken barrel-organ was playing;
sometimes it quavered and almost stopped, then went on again, like a broken
human voice.
I listened: my heart scarcely moved; it was as cold as lead. I could not
bear the long day before me; and I tried to sleep again; yet still I heard
the feet upon the
pavement. And suddenly I heard them cry loud as they
beat, "We are seeking!--we are seeking!--we are seeking!" and the broken
barrel-organ at the street corner sobbed, "The Beautiful!--the Beautiful!--
the Beautiful!" And my heart, which had been dead, cried out with every
throb, "Love!--Truth!--the Beautiful!--the Beautiful!" It was the music I
had heard in Heaven that I could not sing there.
And fully I awoke.
Upon the faded quilt, across my bed a long yellow
streak of pale London
sunlight was lying. It fell through my narrow attic window.
I laughed. I rose.
I was glad the long day was before me.
Paris and London.
End