He said, "A vine truss, bruised in the wine-press!"
And at the head of the grave stood a cross, and on its foot lay a crown of thorns.
And as I turned to go, I looked backward. The wine-press and the banquet-house were gone; but the grave yet stood.
And when I came to the edge of a long ridge there opened out before me a wide plain of sand. And when I looked downward I saw great stones lie shattered; and the desert sand had half covered them over.
I said to G.o.d, "There is writing on them, but I cannot read it."
And G.o.d blew aside the desert sand, and I read the writing: "Weighed in the balance, and found--" but the last word was wanting.
And I said to G.o.d, "It was a banquet-house?"
G.o.d said, "Ay, a banquet-house."
I said, "There was a wine-press here?"
G.o.d said, "There was a wine-press."
I asked no further question. I was very weary; I shaded my eyes with my hand, and looked through the pink evening light.
Far off, across the sand, I saw two figures standing. With wings upfolded high above their heads, and stern faces set, neither man nor beast, they looked out across the desert sand, watching, watching, watching! I did not ask G.o.d what they were, for I knew what the answer would be.
And, further and yet further, in the evening light, I looked with my shaded eyes.
Far off, where the sands were thick and heavy, I saw a solitary pillar standing: the crown had fallen, and the sand had buried it. On the broken pillar sat a grey owl-of-the-desert, with folded wings; and in the evening light I saw the desert fox creep past it, trailing his brush across the sand.
Further, yet further, as I looked across the desert, I saw the sand gathered into heaps as though it covered something.
I cried to G.o.d, "Oh, I am so weary."
G.o.d said, "You have seen only one half of h.e.l.l."
I said, "I cannot see more, I am afraid of h.e.l.l. In my own narrow little path I dare not walk because I think that one has dug a pitfall for me; and if I put my hand to take a fruit I draw it back again because I think it has been kissed already. If I look out across the plains, the mounds are burial heaps; and when I pa.s.s among the stones I hear them crying aloud. When I see men dancing I hear the time beaten in with sobs; and their wine is living! Oh, I cannot bear h.e.l.l!"
G.o.d said, "Where will you go?"
I said "To the earth from which I came; it was better there."
And G.o.d laughed at me; and I wondered why he laughed.
G.o.d said, "Come, and I will show you Heaven."
And partly I awoke. It was still and dark; the sound of the carriages had died in the street; the woman who laughed was gone; and the policeman"s tread was heard no more. In the dark it seemed as if a great hand lay upon my heart, and crushed it. I tried to breathe and tossed from side to side; and then again I fell asleep, and dreamed.
G.o.d took me to the edge of that world. It ended. I looked down. The gulf, it seemed to me, was fathomless, and then I saw two bridges crossing it that both sloped upwards.
I said to G.o.d, "Is there no other way by which men cross it?"
G.o.d said, "One; it rises far from here and slopes straight upwards."
I asked G.o.d what the bridges" names were.
G.o.d said, "What matter for the names? Call them the Good, the True, the Beautiful, if you will--you will yet not understand them."
I asked G.o.d how it was I could not see the third.
G.o.d said, "It is seen only by those who climb it."
I said, "Do they all lead to one heaven?"
G.o.d said, "All Heaven is one: nevertheless some parts are higher than others; those who reach the higher may always go down to rest in the lower; but those in the lower may not have strength to climb to the higher; nevertheless the light is all one."
And I saw over the bridge nearest me, which was wider than the other, countless footmarks go. I asked G.o.d why so many went over it.
G.o.d said, "It slopes less deeply, and leads to the first heaven."
And I saw that some of the footmarks were of feet returning. I asked G.o.d how it was.
He said, "No man who has once entered Heaven ever leaves it; but some, when they have gone half way, turn back, because they are afraid there is no land beyond."
I said, "Has none ever returned?"
G.o.d said, "No; once in Heaven always in Heaven."
And G.o.d took me over. And when we came to one of the great doors--for Heaven has more doors than one, and they are all open--the posts rose up so high on either side I could not see the top, nor indeed if there were any.
And it seemed to me so wide that all h.e.l.l could go in through it.
I said to G.o.d, "Which is the larger, Heaven or h.e.l.l?"
G.o.d said, "h.e.l.l is as wide, but Heaven is deeper. All h.e.l.l could be engulfed in Heaven, but all Heaven could not be engulfed in h.e.l.l."
And we entered. It was a still great land. The mountains rose on every hand, and there was a pale clear light; and I saw it came from the rocks and stones. I asked G.o.d how it was.
But G.o.d did not answer me.
I looked and wondered, for I had thought Heaven would be otherwise. And after a while it began to grow brighter, as if the day were breaking, and I asked G.o.d if the sun were not going to rise.
G.o.d said, "No; we are coming to where the people are."
And as we went on it grew brighter and brighter till it was burning day; and on the rock were flowers blooming, and trees blossomed at the roadside; and streams of water ran everywhere, and I heard the birds singing; I asked G.o.d where they were.
G.o.d said, "It is the people calling to one another."
And when we came nearer I saw them walking, and they shone as they walked. I asked G.o.d how it was they wore no covering.