The Land of Darkness: Along with Some Further Chapters in the Experiences of the Little PilgrimOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Land of Darkness: Along with Some Further Chapters in the Experiences of the Little Pilgrim
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Future life -- Fiction; Purgatory -- Fiction
‘You do not know what it is,’ he said, ‘to be ten times more powerful
and strong, to want no rest, to have fire in your veins, to have the
craving in your heart above everything that is known to man. When the
work was done, we glared upon each other with hungry eyes, and each man
wished to thrust forth his neighbour and possess all to himself. And
then we ceased to take pleasure in it, notwithstanding that it was
beautiful; and there were some who would have beaten down the walls and
built them anew--and some would have torn up the silver and gold, and
tossed out the fair statues and the adornments in scorn and rage to the
meaner multitudes below. And we, who were the workers, began to contend
one against another to satisfy the gnawings of the rage that was in our
hearts. For we had deceived ourselves, thinking once more that all would
be well: while all the time nothing was changed, and we were but as the
miserable ones that rushed from place to place.’
Though all this wretchedness was over and past, it was so terrible to
think of that he paused and was silent a while. And the little pilgrim
put her hand upon his arm in her great pity to soothe him, and almost
forgot that there was another traveller not yet delivered upon the way.
But suddenly at that moment there came up through the depths the sound
of a fall, as if the rocks had crashed from a hundred peaks, yet all
muffled by the great distance, and echoing all around in faint echoes,
and rumblings as in the bosom of the earth. And mingled with them were
far-off cries, so faint and distant that human ears could not have heard
them, like the cries of lost children, or creatures wavering and
straying in the midst of the boundless night. This time she who was
watching upon the edge of the gloom would have flung herself forward
altogether into it, had not her companion again restrained her. ‘One has
stumbled upon the mountains; but listen, listen, little sister, for the
voices are many,’ he said,--‘it is not one who comes, but many; and
though he falls he will rise again.’
And once more he shouted aloud, bending down against the rocks, so that
they caught his voice--and the sweet air from the skies came behind him
in a great gust like a summer storm, and carried it into all the echoing
hollows of the hills. And the little pilgrim knew that he shouted to all
who came to take courage and not to fear. And this time there rose
upward many faint and wavering sounds that did not stir the air, but
made it tingle with a vibration of the great distance and the unknown
depths; and then again all was still. They stood for a time intent upon
the great silence and darkness which swept up all sight and sound, and
then the little pilgrim once more turned her eyes towards her companion,
and he began again his wonderful tale.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account