France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
The _Spirit_ knocked at the _sacred portal_. “What wilt thou?” answered
a _choir_, whose question echoed among the worlds. “To go to God.” “Hast
thou conquered?” “I have conquered the flesh through abstinence, I
have conquered false knowledge by humility, I have conquered pride by
charity, I have conquered the earth by love; I have paid my dues by
suffering, I am purified in the fires of faith, I have longed for Life
by prayer: I wait in adoration, and I am resigned.”
No answer came.
“God’s will be done!” answered the _Spirit_, believing that he was about
to be rejected.
His tears flowed and fell like dew upon the heads of the two kneeling
witnesses, who trembled before the justice of God.
Suddenly the trumpets sounded,--the last trumpets of Victory won by the
_Angel_ in this last trial. The reverberation passed through space
as sound through its echo, filling it, and shaking the universe which
Wilfrid and Minna felt like an atom beneath their feet. They trembled
under an anguish caused by the dread of the mystery about to be
accomplished.
A great movement took place, as though the Eternal Legions, putting
themselves in motion, were passing upward in spiral columns. The worlds
revolved like clouds driven by a furious wind. It was all rapid.
Suddenly the veils were rent away. They saw on high as it were a star,
incomparably more lustrous than the most luminous of material stars,
which detached itself, and fell like a thunderbolt, dazzling as
lightning. Its passage paled the faces of the pair, who thought it to be
_the Light_ Itself.
It was the Messenger of good tidings, the plume of whose helmet was a
flame of Life.
Behind him lay the swath of his way gleaming with a flood of the lights
through which he passed.
He bore a palm and a sword. He touched the _Spirit_ with the palm, and
the _Spirit_ was transfigured. Its white wings noiselessly unfolded.
This communication of _the Light_, changing the _Spirit_ into a _Seraph_
and clothing it with a glorious form, a celestial armor, poured down
such effulgent rays that the two Seers were paralyzed.
Like the three apostles to whom Jesus showed himself, they felt the
dead weight of their bodies which denied them a complete and cloudless
intuition of _the Word_ and _the True Life_.
They comprehended the nakedness of their souls; they were able
to measure the poverty of their light by comparing it--a humbling
task--with the halo of the _Seraph_.
A passionate desire to plunge back into the mire of earth and suffer
trial took possession of them,--trial through which they might
victoriously utter at the _sacred gates_ the words of that radiant
_Seraph_.
The _Seraph_ knelt before the _Sanctuary_, beholding it, at last, face
to face; and he said, raising his hands thitherward, “Grant that these
two may have further sight; they will love the Lord and proclaim His
word.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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