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 lonely figure 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 *** 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 Ishuddered.
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 ******?"
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 Icould not reach even to his knee, nor move the instrument he played.But Ithought 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 Ihad 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
