XII
Presently I wandered off alone, and went out of the city with a suddenimpulse. I thought I would go in the opposite direction to that by whichI had entered it. I could see the great hills down which Cynthia and Ihad made our way in the dawn; but I had never gone in the furtherdirection, where there stretched what seemed to be a great forest. Thewhole place lay bathed in a calm light, all unutterably beautiful. Iwandered long by streams and wood-ends, every corner that I turnedrevealing new prospects of delight. I came at last to the edge of theforest, the mouths of little open glades running up into it, with fernand thorn-thickets. There were deer here browsing about the dingles,which let me come close to them and touch them, raising their heads fromthe grass, and regarding me with gentle and fearless eyes. Birds sangsoftly among the boughs, and even fluttered to my shoulder, as ifpleased to be noticed. So this was what was called on earth the place oftorment, a place into which it seemed as if nothing of sorrow or paincould ever intrude!
Just on the edge of the wood stood a little cottage, surrounded by aquiet garden, bees humming about the flowers, the scents of which camewith a homely sweetness on the air. But here I saw something which I didnot at first understand. This was a group of three people, a man and awoman and a boy of about seventeen, beside the cottage porch. They had arustic air about them, and the same sort of leisurely look that all thepeople of the land wore. They were all three beautiful, with a simpleand appropriate kind of beauty, such as comes of a contented sojourn inthe open air. But I became in a moment aware that there was a disturbingelement among them. The two elders seemed to be trying to persuade theboy, who listened smilingly enough, but half turned away from them, asthough he were going away on some errand of which they did not approve.They greeted me, as I drew near, with the same cordiality as onereceived everywhere, and the man said, "Perhaps you can help us, sir,for we are in a trouble?" The woman joined with a murmur in the request,and I said I would gladly do what I could; while I spoke, the boywatched me earnestly, and something drew me to him, because I saw a lookthat seemed to tell me that he was, like myself, a stranger in theplace. Then the man said, "We have lived here together very happily along time, we three--I do not know how we came together, but so it was;and we have been more at ease than words can tell, after hard lives inthe other world; and now this lad here, who has been our delight, saysthat he must go elsewhere and cannot stay with us; and we would persuadehim if we could; and perhaps you, sir, who no doubt know what liesbeyond the fields and woods that we see, can satisfy him that it isbetter to remain."
While he spoke, the other two had drawn near to me, and the eyes of thewoman dwelt upon the boy with a look of intent love, while the boylooked in my face anxiously and inquiringly. I could see, I found, verydeep into his heart, and I saw in him a need for further experience, anda desire to go further on; and I knew at once that this could only besatisfied in one way, and that something would grow out of it both forhimself and for his companions. So I said, as smilingly as I could, "Ido not indeed know much of the ways of this place, but this I know, thatwe must go where we are sent, that no harm can befall us, and that weare never far away from those whom we love. I myself have lately beensent to visit this strange land; it seems only yesterday since I leftthe mountains yonder, and yet I have seen an abundance of strange andbeautiful things; we must remember that here there is no sickness ormisfortune or growing old; and there is no reason, as there often seemedto be on earth, why we should fight against separation and departure. Noone can, I think, be hindered here from going where he is bound. So Ibelieve that you will let the boy go joyfully and willingly, for I amsure of this, that his journey holds not only great things for himself,but even greater things for both of you in the future. So be content andlet him depart."
At this the woman said, "Yes, that is right, the stranger is right, andwe must hinder the child no longer. No harm can come of it, but onlygood; perhaps he will return, or we may follow him, when the day comesfor that."
I saw that the old man was not wholly satisfied with this. He shook hishead and looked sadly on the boy; and then for a time we sat and talkedof many things. One thing that the old man said surprised me verygreatly. He seemed to have lived many lives, and always lives of labour;he had grown, I gathered from his simple talk, to have a great love ofthe earth, the lives of flocks and herds, and of all the plants thatgrew out of the earth or flourished in it. I had thought before, in afoolish way, that all this might be put away from the spirit, in theland where there was no need of such things; but I saw now that therewas a claim for labour, and a love of common things, which did notbelong only to the body, but was a real desire of the spirit. He spokeof the pleasures of tending cattle, of cutting fagots in the forestwoodland among the copses, of ploughing and sowing, with the breath ofthe earth about one; till I saw that the toil of the world, which I haddimly thought of as a thing which no one would do if they were notobliged, was a real instinct of the spirit, and had its counterpartbeyond the body. I had supposed indeed that in a region where alltroublous accidents of matter were over and done with, and where therewas no need of bodily sustenance, there could be nothing whichresembled the old weary toil of the body; but now I saw gladly that thiswas not so, and that the primal needs of the spirit outlast the visibleworld. Though my own life had been spent mostly among books and thingsof the mind, I knew well the joys of the countryside, the blossoming ofthe orchard-close, the high-piled granary, the brightly-painted waggonloaded with hay, the creaking of the cider-press, the lowing of cattlein the stall, the stamping of horses in the stable, the mud-stainedimplements hanging in the high-roofed, cobwebbed barn. I had never knownwhy I loved these things so well, and had invented many fancies toexplain it; but now I saw that it was the natural delight in work andincrease; and that the love which surrounded all these things was thesign that they were real indeed, and that in no part of life could theybe put away. And then there came on me a sort of gentle laughter at thethought of how much of the religion of the world spent itself on biddingthe heart turn away from vanities, and lose itself in dreams of wondersand doctrines, and what were called higher and holier things than barnsand byres and sheep-pens. Yet the truth had been staring me in the faceall the time, if only I could have seen it; that the sense of constraintand unreality that fell upon one in religious matters, when some curiousand intricate matter was confusedly expounded, was perfectly natural andwholesome; and that the real life of man lay in the things to which onereturned, on work-a-day mornings, with such relief--the acts of life,the work of homestead, library, barrack, office, and class-room, thesight and sound of humanity, the smiles and glances and unconsideredwords.
When we had sat together for a time, the boy made haste to depart. Wethree went with him to the edge of the wood, where a road passed upamong the oaks. The three embraced and kissed and said many lovingwords; and then to ease the anxieties of the two, I said that I wouldmyself set the boy forward on his way, and see him well bestowed. Theythanked me, and we went together into the wood, the two lovingly wavingand beckoning, and the boy stepping blithely by my side.
I asked him whether he was not sorry to go and leave the quiet place andthe pair that loved him. He smiled and said that he knew he was notleaving them at all, and that he was sure that they would soon follow;and that for himself the time had come to know more of the place. Ilearned from him that his last life had been an unhappy one, in acrowded street and a slovenly home, with much evil of talk and act abouthim; he had hated it all, he said, but for a little sister that he hadloved, who had kissed and clasped him, weeping, when he lay dying of amiserable disease. He said that he thought he should find her, whichmade part of his joy of going; that for a long while there had come tohim a sense of her remembrance and love; and that he had once sent histhought back to earth to find her, and she was in much grief and care;and that then all these messages had at once ceased, and he knew thatshe had left the body. He was a merry boy, full of delight and laughter,and we went very cheerfully toge
ther through the sunlit wood, with itsgreen glades and open spaces, which seemed all full of life andhappiness, creatures living together in goodwill and comfort. I saw inthis journey that all things that ever lived a conscious life in one ofthe innumerable worlds had a place and life of their own, and a time ofrefreshment like myself. What I could not discern was whether there wasany interchange of lives, whether the soul of the tree could become ananimal, or the animal progress to be a man. It seemed to me that it wasnot so, but that each had a separate life of its own. But I saw howfoolish was the fancy that I had pursued in old days, that there was acentral reservoir of life, into which at death all little lives weremerged; I was yet to learn how strangely all life was knit together,but now I saw that individuality was a real and separate thing, whichcould not be broken or lost, and that all things that had ever enjoyed aconsciousness of the privilege of separate life had a true dignity andworth of existence; and that it was only the body that had madehostility necessary; that though the body could prey upon the bodies ofanimal and plant, yet that no soul could devour or incorporate any othersoul. But as yet the merging of soul in soul through love was unseen andindeed unsuspected by me.
Now as we went in the wood, the boy and I, it came into my mind in aflash that I had seen a great secret. I had seen, I knew, very little ofthe great land yet--and indeed I had been but in the lowest place ofall: and I thought how base and dull our ideas had been upon earth ofGod and His care of men. We had thought of Him dimly as sweeping intoHis place of torment and despair all poisoned and diseased lives, alllives that had clung to the body and to the pleasures of the body, allwho had sinned idly, or wilfully, or proudly; and I saw now that He usedmen far more wisely and lovingly than thus. Into this lowest placeindeed passed all sad, and diseased, and unhappy spirits: and instead ofbeing tormented or accursed, all was made delightful and beautiful forthem there, because they needed not harsh and rough handling, but careand soft tendance. They were not to be frightened hence, or to live infear and anguish, but to live deliciously according to their wish, andto be drawn to perceive in some quiet manner that all was not well withthem; they were to have their heart's desire, and learn that it couldnot satisfy them; but the only thing that could draw them thence was thelove of some other soul whom they must pursue and find, if they could.It was all so high and reasonable and just that I could not admire itenough. I saw that the boy was drawn thence by the love of his littlesister, who was elsewhere; and that the love and loss of the boy wouldpresently draw the older pair to follow him and to leave the place ofheart's delight. And then I began to see that Cynthia and Charmides andLucius were being made ready, each at his own time, to leave theirlittle pleasures and ordered lives of happiness, and to followheavenwards in due course. Because it was made plain to me that it wasthe love and worship of some other soul that was the constraining force;but what the end would be I could not discern.
And now as we went through the wood, I began to feel a strange elationand joy of spirit, severe and bracing, very different from my languidand half-contented acquiescence in the place of beauty; and now thewoods began to change their kind; there were fewer forest trees now, butbare heaths with patches of grey sand and scattered pines; and therebegan to drift across the light a grey vapour which hid the delicatehues and colours of the sunlight, and made everything appear pale andspare. Very soon we came out on the brow of a low hill, and saw, allspread out before us, a place which, for all its dulness and darkness,had a solemn beauty of its own. There were great stone buildings verysolidly made, with high chimneys which seemed to stream with smoke; wecould see men, as small as ants, moving in and out of the buildings; itseemed like a place of manufacture, with a busy life of its own. Buthere I suddenly felt that I could go no further, but must return. Ihoped that I should see the grim place again, and I desired with all mysoul to go down into it, and see what eager life it was that was beinglived there. And the boy, I saw, felt this too, and was impatient toproceed. So we said farewell with much tenderness, and the boy went downswiftly across the moorland, till he met some one who was coming out ofthe city, and conferred a little with him; and then he turned and wavedhis hand to me, and I waved my hand from the brow of the hill, envyinghim in my heart, and went back in sorrow into the sunshine of the wood.
And as I did so I had a great joy, because I saw Amroth come suddenlyrunning to me out of the wood, who put his arm through mine, and walkedwith me. Then I told him of all I had seen and thought, while he smiledand nodded and told me it was much as I imagined. "Yes," he said, "it iseven so. The souls you have seen in this fine country here are just aschildren who are given their fill of pleasant things. Many of them havecome into the state in which you see them from no fault of their own,because their souls are young and ignorant. They have shrunk from allpain and effort and tedium, like a child that does not like his lessons.There is no thought of punishment, of course. No one learns anything ofpunishment except a cowardly fear. We never advance until we have thewill to advance, and there is nothing in mere suffering, unless we learnto bear it gently for the sake of love. On earth it is not God but manwho is cruel. There is indeed a place of sorrow, which you will see whenyou can bear the sight, where the self-righteous and the harsh go for atime, and all those who have made others suffer because they believed intheir own justice and insight. You will find there all tyrants andconquerors, and many rich men, who used their wealth heedlessly; andeven so you will be surprised when you see it. But those spirits are thehardest of all to help, because they have loved nothing but their ownvirtue or their own ambition; yet you will see how they too are drawnthence; and now that you have had a sight of the better country, tell mehow you liked it."
"Why," I said, "it is plain and austere enough; but I felt a greatquickening of spirit, and a desire to join in the labours of the place."
Amroth smiled, and said, "You will have little share in that. You willfind your task, no doubt, when you are strong enough; and now you mustgo back and make unwilling holiday with your pleasant friends, you havenot much longer to stay there; and surely"--he laughed as he spoke--"youcan endure a little more of those pretty concerts and charming talk ofart and its values and pulsations!"
"I can endure it," I said, laughing, "for it does me good to see you andto hear you; but tell me, Amroth, what have you been about all thistime? Have you had a thought of me?"
"Yes, indeed," said Amroth, laughing. "I don't forget you, and I loveyour company; but I am a busy man myself, and have something pleasanterto do than to attend these elegant receptions of yours--at which,indeed, I have sometimes thought you out of place."
As we thus talked we came to the forest lodge. The old pair came runningout to greet me, and I told them that the boy was well bestowed. I couldsee in the woman's face that she would soon follow him, and even theold man had a look that I had not seen in him before; and here Amrothleft me, and I returned to the city, where all was as peaceable asbefore.
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