A MINIATURE CREATION.
In my heaven-uplifted dream, I thought I saw a circular spacious garden
in which all the lovely landscapes of a superior world appeared to form
themselves by swift degrees. The longer I looked at it, the more
beautiful it became, and a little star shone above it like a sun. Trees
and flowers sprang up under my gaze, and all stretched themselves
towards me, as though for protection. Birds flew about and sang; some
of them tried to get as near as possible to the little sun they saw;
and other living creatures began to move about in the shadows of the
groves, and on the fresh green grass. All the wonderful workings of
Nature, as known to us in the world, took place over again in this
garden, which seemed somehow to belong to me; and I watched everything
with a certain satisfaction and delight. Then the idea came to me that
the place would be fairer if there were either men or angels to inhabit
it; and quick as light a whisper came to me:
"CREATE!"
And I thought in my dream that by the mere desire of my being,
expressed in waves of electric warmth that floated downwards from me to
the earth I possessed, my garden was suddenly filled with men, women
and children, each of whom had a small portion of myself in them,
inasmuch as it was I who made them move and talk and occupy themselves
in all manner of amusements. Many of them knelt down to me and prayed,
and offered thanksgivings for having been created; but some of them
went instead to the little star, which they called a sun, and thanked
that, and prayed to that instead. Then others went and cut down the
trees in the garden, and dug up stones, and built themselves little
cities, where they all dwelt together like flocks of sheep, and ate and
drank and made merry with the things I had given them. Then I thought
that I increased their intelligence and quickness of perception, and
by-and-by they grew so proud that they forgot everything but
themselves. They ceased to remember how they were created, and they
cared no more to offer praises to their little sun that through me gave
them light and heat. But because something of my essence still was in
them, they always instinctively sought to worship a superior creature
to themselves; and puzzling themselves in their folly, they made
hideous images of wood and clay, unlike anything in heaven or earth,
and offered sacrifices and prayer to these lifeless puppets instead of
to me. Then I turned away my eyes in sorrow and pity, but never in
anger; for I could not be wrathful with these children of my own
creation. And when I thus turned away my eyes, all manner of evil came
upon the once fair scene--pestilence and storm, disease and vice. A
dark shadow stole between my little world and me--the shadow of the
people's own wickedness. And as every delicate fibre of my spiritual
being repelled evil by the necessity of the pure light in which I dwelt
serene. I waited patiently for the mists to clear, so that I might
again behold the beauty of my garden. Suddenly a soft clamour smote
upon my sense of hearing, and a slender stream of light, like a
connecting ray, seemed to be flung upwards through the darkness that
hid me from the people I had created and loved. I knew the sound--it
was the mingled music of the prayers of children. An infinite pity and
pleasure touched me, my being thrilled with love and tenderness; and
yielding to these little ones who asked me for protection, I turned my
eyes again towards the garden I had designed for fairness and pleasure.
But alas! how changed it had become! No longer fresh and sweet, the
people had turned it into a wilderness; they had divided it into small
portions, and in so doing had divided themselves into separate
companies called nations, all of whom fought with each other fiercely
for their different little parterres or flower-beds. Some haggled and
talked incessantly over the mere possession of a stone which they
called a rock; others busied themselves in digging a little yellow
metal out of the earth, which, when once obtained, seemed to make the
owners of it mad, for they straightway forgot everything else. As I
looked, the darkness between me and my creation grew denser, and was
only pierced at last by those long wide shafts of radiance caused by
the innocent prayers of those who still remembered me. And I was full
of regret, for I saw my people wandering hither and thither, restless
and dissatisfied, perplexed by their own errors, and caring nothing for
the love I bore them. Then some of them advanced and began to question
why they had been created, forgetting completely how their lives had
been originally designed by me for happiness, love and wisdom. Then
they accused me of the existence of evil, refusing to see that where
there is light there is also darkness, and that darkness is the rival
force of the Universe, whence cometh silently the Unnamable Oblivion of
Souls. They could not see, my self-willed children, that they had of
their own desire sought the darkness and found it; and now, because it
gloomed above them like a pall, they refused to believe in the light
where still I was loving and striving to attract them still. Yet it was
not all darkness, and I knew that even what there was might be repelled
and cleared away if only my people would turn towards me once more. So
I sent down upon them all possible blessings--some they rejected
angrily, some they snatched at and threw away again, as though they
were poor and trivial--none of them were they thankful for, and none
did they desire to keep. And the darkness above them deepened, while my
anxious pity and love for them increased. For how could I turn
altogether away from them, as long as but a few remembered me? There
were some of these weak children of mine who loved and honoured me so
well that they absorbed some of my light into themselves, and became
heroes, poets, musicians, teachers of high and noble thought, and
unselfish, devoted martyrs for the sake of the reverence they bore me.
There were women pure and sweet, who wore their existence as innocently
as lilies, and who turned to me to seek protection, not for themselves,
but for those they loved. There were little children, whose asking
voices were like waves of delicious music to my being, and for whom I
had a surpassing tenderness. And yet all these were a mere handful
compared to the numbers who denied my existence, and who had wilfully
crushed out and repelled every spark of my essence in themselves. And
as I contemplated this, the voice I had heard at the commencement of my
dream rushed towards me like a mighty wind broken through by thunder:
"DESTROY!"
A great pity and love possessed me. In deep awe, yet solemn
earnestness, I pleaded with that vast commanding voice.
"Bid me not destroy!" I implored. "Command me not to disperse into
nothingness these children of my fancy, some of whom yet love and trust
to me for safety. Let me strive once more to bring them out of their
darkness into the light--to bring them to the happiness I designed them
to enjoy. They have not all forgotten me--let me give them more time
for thought and recollection!"
Again the great voice shook the air:
"They love darkness rather than light; they love the perishable earth
of which they are in part composed, better than the germ of immortality
with which they were in the beginning endowed. This garden of thine is
but a caprice of thy intelligence; the creatures that inhabit it are
soulless and unworthy, and are an offence to that indestructible
radiance of which thou art one ray. Therefore I say unto thee
again--DESTROY!"
My yearning love grew stronger, and I pleaded with renewed force.
"Oh, thou Unseen Glory!" I cried; "thou who hast filled me with this
emotion of love and pity which permeates and supports my existence, how
canst thou bid me take this sudden revenge upon my frail creation! No
caprice was it that caused me to design it; nothing but a thought of
love and a desire of beauty. Even yet I will fulfil my plan--even yet
shall these erring children of mine return to me in time, with
patience. While one of them still lifts a hand in prayer to me, or
gratitude, I cannot destroy! Bid me rather sink into the darkness of
the uttermost deep of shadow; only let me save these feeble little ones
from destruction!"
The voice replied not. A flashing opal brilliancy shot across the light
in which I rested, and I beheld an Angel, grand, lofty, majestic, with
a countenance in which shone the lustre of a myriad summer mornings.
"Spirit that art escaped from the Sorrowful Star," it said in accents
clear and sonorous, "wouldst thou indeed be content to suffer the loss
of heavenly joy and peace, in order to rescue thy perishing creation?"
"I would!" I answered; "if I understood death, I would die to save one
of those frail creatures, who seek to know me and yet cannot find me
through the darkness they have brought upon themselves."
"To die," said the Angel, "to understand death, thou wouldst need to
become one of them, to take upon thyself their form--to imprison all
that brilliancy of which thou art now composed, into a mean and common
case of clay; and even if thou couldst accomplish this, would thy
children know thee or receive thee?"
"Nay, but if I could suffer shame by them," I cried impetuously, "I
could not suffer sin. My being would be incapable of error, and I would
show these creatures of mine the bliss of purity, the joy of wisdom,
the ecstasy of light, the certainty of immortality, if they followed
me. And then I would die to show them death is easy, and that in dying
they would come to me and find their happiness for ever!"
The stature of the Angel grew more lofty and magnificent, and its
star-like eyes flashed fire.
"Then, oh thou wanderer from the Earth!" it said, "understandest thou
not the Christ?"
A deep awe trembled through me. Meanwhile the garden I had thought a
world appeared to roll up like a cloudy scroll, and vanished, and I
knew that it had been a vision, and no more.
"Oh doubting and foolish Spirit!" went on the Angel--"thou who art but
one point of living light in the Supreme Radiance, even THOU wouldst
consent to immure thyself in the darkness of mortality for sake of thy
fancied creation! Even THOU wouldst submit to suffer and to die, in
order to show the frail children of thy dream a purely sinless and
spiritual example! Even THOU hast had the courage to plead with the One
All-Sufficing Voice against the destruction of what to thee was but a
mirage floating in this ether! Even THOU hast had love, forgiveness,
pity! Even THOU wouldst be willing to dwell among the creatures of thy
fancy as one of them, knowing in thy inner self that by so doing, thy
spiritual presence would have marked thy little world for ever as
sanctified and impossible to destroy. Even THOU wouldst sacrifice a
glory to answer a child's prayer--even thou wouldst have patience! And
yet thou hast dared to deny to God those attributes which thou thyself
dost possess--He is so great and vast--thou so small and slight! For
the love thou feelest throbbing through thy being, He is the very
commencement and perfection of all love; if thou hast pity, He has ten
thousand times more pity; if THOU canst forgive, remember that from Him
flows all thy power of forgiveness! There is nothing thou canst do,
even at the highest height of spiritual perfection, that He cannot
surpass by a thousand million fold! Neither shalt thou refuse to
believe that He can also suffer. Know that nothing is more godlike than
unselfish sorrow--and the grief of the Creator over one erring human
soul is as vast as He Himself is vast. Why wouldst thou make of Him a
being destitute of the best emotions that He Himself bestows upon thee?
THOU wouldst have entered into thy dream-world and lived in it and died
in it, if by so doing thou couldst have drawn one of thy creatures back
to the love of thee; and wilt thou not receive the Christ?"
I bowed my head, and a flood of joy rushed through me.
"I believe--I believe and I love!" I murmured. "Desert me not, O
radiant Angel! I feel and know that all these wonders must soon pass
away from my sight; but wilt thou also go?"
The Angel smiled and touched me.
"I am thy guardian," it said. "I have been with thee always. I can
never leave thee so long as thy soul seeks spiritual things. Asleep or
awake on the Earth, wherever thou art, I also am. There have been times
when I have warned thee and thou wouldst not listen, when I have tried
to draw thee onward and thou wouldst not come; but now I fear no more
thy disobedience, for thy restlessness is past. Come with me; it is
permitted thee to see far off the vision of the Last Circle."
The glorious figure raised me gently by the hand, and we floated on and
on, higher and higher, past little circles which my guide told me were
all solar systems, though they looked nothing but slender garlands of
fire, so rapidly did they revolve and so swiftly did we pass them.
Higher and higher we went, till even to my untiring spirit the way
seemed long. Beautiful creatures in human shape, but as delicate as
gossamer, passed us every now and then, some in bands of twos and
threes, some alone; and the higher we soared the more dazzlingly lovely
these inhabitants of the air seemed to be.
"They are all born of the Great Circle," my guardian Angel explained to
me: "and to them is given the power of communicating high thought or
inspiration. Among them are the Spirits of Music, of Poesy, of
Prophecy, and of all Art ever known in all worlds. The success of their
teaching depends on how much purity and unselfishness there is in the
soul to which they whisper their divine messages--messages as brief as
telegrams which must be listened to with entire attention and acted
upon at once, or the lesson is lost and may never come again."
Just then I saw a Shape coming towards me as of a lovely fair-haired
child, who seemed to be playing softly on a strange glittering
instrument like a broken cloud strung through with sunbeams. Heedless
of consequences, I caught at its misty robe in a wild effort to detain
it. It obeyed my touch, and turned its deeply luminous eyes first upon
me, and then upon the Angel who accompanied my flight.
"What seekest thou?" it asked in a voice like the murmuring of the wind
among flowers.
"Music!" I answered. "Sing me thy melodies--fill me with harmonies
divine and unreachable--and I will strive to be worthy of thy
teachings!"
The young Shape smiled and drew closer towards me.
"Thy wish is granted, Sister Spirit!" it replied. "The pity I shall
feel for thy fate when thou art again pent in clay, shall be taught
thee in minor music--thou shalt possess the secret of unwritten sound,
and I will sing to thee and bring thee comfort. On Earth, call but my
name--Aeon! and thou shalt behold me. For thy longing voice is known to
the Children of Music, and hath oft shaken the vibrating light wherein
they dwell. Fear not! As long as thou dost love me, I am thine." And
parting slowly, still smiling, the lovely vision, with its small
radiant hands ever wandering among the starry strings of its cloud-like
lyre, floated onward.
Suddenly a clear voice said "Welcome!" and looking up I saw my first
friend, Azul. I smiled in glad recognition--I would have spoken--but
lo! a wide immensity of blazing glory broke like many-coloured
lightning around me--so dazzling, so overpowering, that I instinctively
drew back and paused--I felt I could go no further.
"Here," said my guardian gently--"here ends thy journey. Would that it
were possible, poor Spirit, for thee to pass this boundary! But that
may not be--as yet. In the meanwhile thou mayest gaze for a brief space
upon the majestic sphere which mortals dream of as Heaven. Behold and
see how fair is the incorruptible perfection of God's World!"
I looked and trembled--I should have sunk yet further backward, had not
Azul and my Angel-guide held me with their light yet forcible clasp. My
heart fails me now as I try to write of that tremendous, that sublime
scene--the Centre of the Universe--the Cause of all Creation. How
unlike Heaven such as we in our ignorance have tried to depict! though
it is far better we should have a mistaken idea than none at all. What
I beheld was a circle, so huge that no mortal measurements could
compass it--a wide Ring composed of seven colours, rainbow-like, but
flashing with perpetual motion and brilliancy, as though a thousand
million suns were for ever being woven into it to feed its transcendent
lustre. From every part of this Ring darted long broad shafts of light,
some of which stretched out so far that I could not see where they
ended; sometimes a bubbling shower of lightning sparks would be flung
out on the pure ether, and this would instantly form into circles,
small or great, and whirl round and round the enormous girdle of flame
from which they had been cast, with the most inconceivable rapidity.
But wonderful as the Ring was, it encompassed a Sphere yet more
marvellous and dazzling; a great Globe of opal-tinted light, revolving
as it were upon its own axis, and ever surrounded by that
scintillating, jewel-like wreath of electricity, whose only motion was
to shine and burn within itself for ever. I could not bear to look upon
the brightness of that magnificent central World--so large that
multiplying the size of the sun by a hundred thousand millions, no
adequate idea could be formed of its vast proportions. And ever it
revolved--and ever the Rainbow Ring around it glittered and cast forth
those other rings which I knew now were living solar systems cast forth
from that electric band as a volcano casts forth fire and lava. My
Angel-guide motioned me to look towards that side of the Ring which was
nearest to the position of the Earth. I looked, and perceived that
there the shafts of descending light formed themselves as they fell
into the shape of a Cross. At this, such sorrow, love, and shame
overcame me, that I knew not where to turn. I murmured:
"Send me back again, dear Angel--send me back to that Star of Sorrow
and Error! Let me hasten to make amends there for all my folly--let me
try to teach others what now I know. I am unworthy to be here beside
thee--I am unfit to look on yonder splendid World--let me return to do
penance for my sins and shortcomings; for what am I that God should
bless me? and though I should consume myself in labour and suffering,
how can I ever hope to deserve the smallest place in that heavenly
glory I now partly behold?" And could spirits shed tears, I should have
wept with remorse and grief.
Azul spoke, softly and tenderly:
"Now thou dost believe--henceforth thou must love! Love alone can pass
yon flaming barrier--love alone can gain for thee eternal bliss. In
love and for love were all things made--God loveth His creatures, even
so let His creatures love Him, and so shall the twain be drawn
together."
"Listen!" added my Angel-guide. "Thou hast not travelled so far as yet
to remain in ignorance. That burning Ring thou seest is the result of
the Creator's ever-working Intelligence; from it all the Universe hath
sprung. It is exhaustless and perpetually creative; it is pure and
perfect Light. The smallest spark of that fiery essence in a mortal
frame is sufficient to form a soul or spirit, such as mine, or that of
Azul, or thine, when thou art perfected. The huge world rolling within
the Ring is where God dwells. Dare not thou to question His shape, His
look, His mien! Know that He is the Supreme Spirit in which all Beauty,
all Perfection, all Love, find consummation. His breath is the fire of
the Ring; His look, His pleasure, cause the motion of His World and all
worlds. There where He dwells, dwell also all pure souls; there all
desires have fulfilment without satiety, and there all loveliness,
wisdom or pleasure known in any or all of the other spheres are also
known. Speak, Azul, and tell this wanderer from Earth what she will
gain in winning her place in Heaven."
Azul looked tenderly upon me and said:
"When thou hast slept the brief sleep of death, when thou art permitted
to throw off for ever thy garb of clay, and when by thine own ceaseless
love and longing thou hast won the right to pass the Great Circle, thou
shalt find thyself in a land where the glories of the natural scenery
alone shall overpower thee with joy--scenery that for ever changes into
new wonders and greater beauty. Thou shalt hear music such as thou
canst not dream of. Thou shalt find friends, beyond all imagination
fair and faithful. Thou shalt read and see the history of all the
planets, produced for thee in an ever-moving panorama. Thou shalt love
and be beloved for ever by thine own Twin Soul; wherever that spirit
may be now, it must join thee hereafter. The joys of learning, memory,
consciousness, sleep, waking, and exercise shall all be thine. Sin,
sorrow, pain, disease and death thou shalt know no more. Thou shalt be
able to remember happiness, to possess it, and to look forward to it.
Thou shalt have full and pleasant occupation without fatigue--thy food
and substance shall be light and air. Flowers, rare and imperishable,
shall bloom for thee; birds of exquisite form and tender voice shall
sing to thee; angels shall be thy companions. Thou shalt have fresh and
glad desires to offer to God with every portion of thy existence, and
each one shall be granted as soon as asked, for then thou wilt not be
able to ask anything that is displeasing to Him. But because it is a
joy to wish, thou shalt wish! and because it is a joy to grant, so also
will He grant. No delight, small or great, is wanting in that vast
sphere; only sorrow is lacking, and satiety and disappointment have no
place. Wilt thou seek for admittance there or wilt thou faint by the
way and grow weary?"
I raised my eyes full of ecstasy and reverence.
"My mere efforts must count as nothing," I said; "but if Love can help
me, I will love and long for God's World until I die!"
My guardian Angel pointed to those rays of light I had before noticed,
that slanted downwards towards Earth in the form of a Cross.
"That is the path by which THOU must travel. Mark it well! All pilgrims
from the Sorrowful Star must journey by that road. Woe to them that
turn aside to roam mid spheres they know not of, to lose themselves in
seas of light wherein they cannot steer! Remember my warning! And now,
Spirit who art commended to my watchful care, thy brief liberty is
ended. Thou hast been lifted up to the outer edge of the Electric
Circle, further we dare not take thee. Hast thou aught else to ask
before the veil of mortality again enshrouds thee?"
I answered not, but within myself I formed a wild desire. The Electric
Ring flashed fiercely on my uplifted eyes, but I kept them fixed
hopefully and lovingly on its intensely deep brilliancy.
"If Love and Faith can avail me," I murmured, "I shall see what I have
sought."
I was not disappointed. The fiery waves of light parted on either side
of the spot where I with my companions rested; and a Figure,--majestic,
unutterably grand and beautiful,--approached me. At the same moment a
number of other faces and forms shone hoveringly out of the Ring; one I
noticed like an exquisitely lovely woman, with floating hair and clear,
earnest, unfathomable eyes. Azul and the Angel sank reverently down and
drooped their radiant heads like flowers in hot sunshine. I alone,
daringly, yet with inexpressible affection welling up within me,
watched with unshrinking gaze the swift advance of that supreme Figure,
upon whose broad brows rested the faint semblance of a Crown of Thorns.
A voice penetratingly sweet addressed me:
"Mortal from the Star I saved from ruin, because thou hast desired Me,
I come! Even as thy former unbelief, shall be now thy faith. Because
thou lovest Me, I am with thee. For do I not know thee better than the
Angels can? Have I not dwelt in thy clay, suffered thy sorrows, wept
thy tears, died thy deaths? One with My Father, and yet one with thee,
I demand thy love, and so through Me shalt thou attain immortal life!"
I felt a touch upon me like a scorching flame--a thrill rushed through
my being--and then I knew that I was sinking down, down, further and
further away. I saw that wondrous Figure standing serene and smiling
between the retiring waves of electric radiance. I saw the great inner
sphere revolve, and glitter as it rolled, like an enormous diamond
encircled with gold and sapphire, and then all suddenly the air grew
dim and cloudy, and the sensation of falling became more and more
rapid. Azul was beside me still, and I also perceived the outline of my
guardian Angel's form, though that was growing indistinct. I now
recalled the request of Heliobas, and spoke:
"Azul, tell me what shadow rests upon the life of him to whom I am now
returning?"
Azul looked at me earnestly, and replied:
"Thou daring one! Seekest thou to pierce the future fate of others? Is
it not enough for thee to have heard the voice that maketh the Angel's
singing silent, and wouldst thou yet know more?"
I was full of a strange unhesitating courage, therefore I said
fearlessly:
"He is thy Beloved one, Azul--thy Twin Soul; and wilt thou let him fall
away from thee when a word or sign might save him?"
"Even as he is my Beloved, so let him not fail to hear my voice,"
replied Azul, with a tinge of melancholy. "For though he has
accomplished much, he is as yet but mortal. Thou canst guide him thus
far; tell him, when death lies like a gift in his hand, let him
withhold it, and remember me. And now, my friend--farewell!"
I would have spoken again, but could not. An oppressed sensation came
over me, and I seemed to plunge coldly into a depth of inextricable
blackness. I felt cramped for room, and struggled for existence, for
motion, for breath. What had happened to me? I wondered indignantly.
Was I a fettered prisoner? had I lost the use of my light aerial limbs
that had borne me so swiftly through the realms of space? What crushing
weight overpowered me? why such want of air and loss of delightful
ease? I sighed restlessly and impatiently at the narrow darkness in
which I found myself--a sorrowful, deep, shuddering sigh .... and WOKE!
That is to say, I languidly opened mortal eyes to find myself once more
pent up in mortal frame, though I retained a perfect remembrance and
consciousness of everything I had experienced during my
spirit-wanderings. Heliobas stood in front of me with outstretched
hands, and his eyes were fixed on mine with a mingled expression of
anxiety and authority, which changed into a look of relief and gladness
as I smiled at him and uttered his name aloud.