CHAPTER VIII. THE SOUL IN PURGATORY; OR LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH.
THE angels strung their harps in heaven, and their music went up likea stream of odours to the pavilions of the Most High; but the harpof Seralim was sweeter than that of his fellows, and the Voice ofthe Invisible One (for the angels themselves know not the glories ofJehovah--only far in the depths of heaven they see one Unsleeping Eyewatching forever over Creation) was heard saying,--
"Ask a gift for the love that burns in thy song, and it shall be giventhee." And Seralim answered,--
"There is in that place which men call Purgatory, and which is theescape from hell, but the painful porch of heaven, many souls that adoreThee, and yet are punished justly for their sins; grant me the boon tovisit them at times, and solace their suffering by the hymns of the harpthat is consecrated to Thee!"
And the Voice answered,--
"Thy prayer is heard, O gentlest of the angels! and it seems good to Himwho chastises but from love. Go! Thou hast thy will."
Then the angel sang the praises of God; and when the song was done herose from his azure throne at the right hand of Gabriel, and, spreadinghis rainbow wings, he flew to that melancholy orb which, nearest toearth, echoes with the shrieks of souls that by torture become pure.There the unhappy ones see from afar the bright courts they arehereafter to obtain, and the shapes of glorious beings, who, fresh fromthese Fountains of Immortality, walk amidst the gardens of Paradise,and feel that their happiness hath no morrow; and this thought consolesamidst their torments, and makes the true difference between Purgatoryand Hell.
Then the angel folded his wings, and entering the crystal gates, satdown upon a blasted rock and struck his divine lyre, and a peace fellover the wretched; the demon ceased to torture and the victim to wail.As sleep to the mourners of earth was the song of the angel to thesouls of the purifying star: one only voice amidst the general stillnessseemed not lulled by the angel; it was the voice of a woman, and itcontinued to cry out with a sharp cry,--
"Oh, Adenheim, Adenheim! mourn not for the lost!"
The angel struck chord after chord, till his most skilful melodies wereexhausted; but still the solitary voice, unheeding--unconscious of--thesweetest harp of the angel choir, cried out,--
"Oh, Adenheim, Adenheim! mourn not for the lost!"
Then Seralim's interest was aroused, and approaching the spot whence thevoice came, he saw the spirit of a young and beautiful girl chained toa rock, and the demons lying idly by. And Seralim said to the demons,"Doth the song lull ye thus to rest?"
And they answered, "Her care for another is bitterer than all ourtorments; therefore are we idle."
Then the angel approached the spirit, and said in a voice which stilledher cry--for in what state do we outlive sympathy?--"Wherefore, Odaughter of earth, wherefore wailest thou with the same plaintive wail;and why doth the harp that soothes the most guilty of thy companionsfail in its melody with thee?"
"O radiant stranger," answered the poor spirit, "thou speakest to onewho on earth loved God's creature more than God; therefore is she thusjustly sentenced. But I know that my poor Adenheim mourns ceaselesslyfor me, and the thought of his sorrow is more intolerable to me than allthat the demons can inflict."
"And how knowest thou that he laments thee?" asked the angel.
"Because I know with what agony I should have mourned for _him_,"replied the spirit, simply.
The divine nature of the angel was touched; for love is the nature ofthe sons of heaven. "And how," said he, "can I minister to thy sorrow?"
A transport seemed to agitate the spirit, and she lifted up her mistlikeand impalpable arms, and cried,--
"Give me--oh, give me to return to earth, but for one little hour,that I may visit my Adenheim; and that, concealing from him my presentsufferings, I may comfort him in his own."
"Alas!" said the angel, turning away his eyes,--for angels may not weepin the sight of others,--"I could, indeed, grant thee this boon, butthou knowest not the penalty. For the souls in Purgatory may return toEarth, but heavy is the sentence that awaits their return. In a word,for one hour on earth thou must add a thousand years to the torture ofthy confinement here!"
"Is that all?" cried the spirit. "Willingly then will I brave the doom.Ah, surely they love not in heaven, or thou wouldst know, O CelestialVisitant; that one hour of consolation to the one we love is worth athousand ages of torture to ourselves! Let me comfort and convince myAdenheim; no matter what becomes of me."
Then the angel looked on high, and he saw in far distant regions, whichin that orb none else could discern, the rays that parted from theall-guarding Eye; and heard the VOICE of the Eternal One bidding himact as his pity whispered. He looked on the spirit, and her shadowy armsstretched pleadingly towards him; he uttered the word that loosens thebars of the gate of Purgatory; and lo, the spirit had re-entered thehuman world.
It was night in the halls of the lord of Adenheim, and he sat at thehead of his glittering board. Loud and long was the laugh, and merrythe jest that echoed round; and the laugh and the jest of the lord ofAdenheim were louder and merrier than all. And by his right side sat abeautiful lady; and ever and anon he turned from others to whisper softvows in her ear.
"And oh," said the bright dame of Falkenberg, "thy words what ladye canbelieve? Didst thou not utter the same oaths, and promise the same love,to Ida, the fair daughter of Loden, and now but three little months haveclosed upon her grave?"
"By my halidom," quoth the young lord of Adenheim, "thou dost thy beautymarvellous injustice. Ida! Nay, thou mockest me; _I_ love the daughterof Loden! Why, how then should I be worthy thee? A few gay words, a fewpassing smiles,--behold all the love Adenheim ever bore to Ida. Wasit my fault if the poor fool misconstrued such common courtesy? Nay,dearest lady, this heart is virgin to thee."
"And what!" said the lady of Falkenberg, as she suffered the arm ofAdenheim to encircle her slender waist, "didst thou not grieve for herloss?"
"Why, verily, yes, for the first week; but in thy bright eyes I foundready consolation."
At this moment, the lord of Adenheim thought he heard a deep sigh behindhim; he turned, but saw nothing, save a slight mist that gradually fadedaway, and vanished in the distance. Where was the necessity for Ida toreveal herself?
.......
"And thou didst not, then, do thine errand to thy lover?" said Seralim,as the spirit of the wronged Ida returned to Purgatory.
"Bid the demons recommence their torture," was poor Ida's answer.
"And was it for this that thou added a thousand years to thy doom?"
"Alas!" answered Ida, "after the single hour I have endured on Earth,there seems to be but little terrible in a thousand fresh years ofPurgatory!"*
* This story is principally borrowed from a foreign soil. It seemed to the author worthy of being transferred to an English one, although he fears that much of its singular beauty in the original has been lost by the way.
The Pilgrims of the Rhine Page 31
