We are allowed a glimpse of the interior of the holy city. Here the choirs of cherubim and seraphim, angels and archangels, principalities and powers, are perpetually meeting and separating. These beings, who, it would seem, had not been entirely safe from ridicule, seeing that Parny had belaboured them so unmercifully[2], now hold a new triumphal entry. From this time onward they become regular denizens of the realm of poetry; we find the whole host assembled even in De Vigny's _Eloa_ (1823) and in Victor Hugo's _Odes_ (livre i., ode 5, ode 9, ode 10). We learn what their occupations are; "Some are the keepers of the 20,000 war-chariots of Zebaoth and Elohim, others guard the quivers of the Lord, his deadly thunderbolts, and the terrible horses which are the carriers of pestilence, war, famine, and death. One million of these ardent beings order the courses of the stars, relieving each other in this glorious occupation like the vigilant sentinels of a great army." In Parny's poem their occupation is less arduous. The duty he assigns to them, because of their limited intelligence, is principally that of acting as decorations. They stand in rows along the walls and look on.[3] All the things which Chateaubriand's angels guard lie, as it were, in a great arsenal ready for use on given occasions. In the following description we see them in use. The occasion is the proclamation by the Trinity to the blessed saints of Eudore's approaching martyrdom: "When these vicissitudes of the church had been communicated to the elect by a single word of the Almighty, there was silence in heaven for the space of half-an-hour. All the celestial beings cast their eyes to the ground. From the heights of heaven Mary let a first look of love fall upon the poor victim confided to her tender care. The palms of the confessors grew green again in their hands. The glorious squadron opened its ranks to make room for the new martyrs." Michael, the dragon-slayer, shoulders his redoubtable spear; his deathless comrades don shining cuirasses; diamond and golden shields, the quivers of the Lord, and the flaming swords are taken down from the vaulted roof of heaven; the wheels of the chariot of Immanuel turn upon their axles of fire and lightning; the cherubim spread their rushing wings, "_et allument la fureur de leurs yeux_." This is half masquerade, half ballet. But let us pass from these adjuncts to bliss itself. We find it thus described: "The chief happiness of the elect lies in the consciousness that their bliss is boundless; they experience for ever the delectable feelings of the mortal who has just done a virtuous or heroic deed, or of the genius in the act of conceiving a great idea, or of the man enjoying the delights of legitimate (!) love or of a friendship tried by long misfortune. The grandeur and the omnipotence of the Almighty are the constant theme of their discourse. 'O God,' they cry, 'how great Thou art!'"