Christian fiction; Wingfold, Thomas (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
"'For the more lovely anything I saw, the more gracious in colour or
form, or the more marvellous in the law of its working, ever a fresh
pang shot to my heart: if that which I had heard should prove true,
then was there no Love such as seemed to me to dwell therein, the
soul of its beauty, and all the excellence thereof was but a
delusion of my own heart, greedy after a phantom perfection. No God!
no Love! no loveliness, save a ghastly semblance thereof! and the
more ghastly that it was so like loveliness, and yet was not to be
loved upon peril of prostitution of spirit. Then in truth was heaven
a fable, and hell an all-embracing fact! for my very being knew in
itself that if it would dwell in peace, the very atmosphere in which
it lived and moved and breathed must be love, living love, a one
divine presence, truth to itself, and love to me, and to all them
that needed love, down to the poorest that can but need it, and
knoweth it not when it cometh. I knew that if love was not all in
all, in fact as well as in imagination, my life was but a dreary
hollow made in the shape of a life, and therefore for ever hungry
and never to be satisfied. And again I spread wings--no longer as it
seemed of hope, but wings of despair, yet mighty, and flew. And I
learned thereafter that despair is but the hidden side of hope.'
"Here follow pages of his wanderings in quest of God. He tells how
and where he inquired and sought, searching into the near and minute
as earnestly as into the far and vast, watching at the very pores of
being, and sitting in the gates of the mighty halls of assembly--but
all in vain. No God was to be found.
"'And it seemed to me,' he says at last, 'that, as I had been the
wanderer of earth, so was I now doomed to be the wanderer of heaven.
On earth I wandered to find death, and men called me the everlasting
Jew; in heaven I wandered to find God, and what name would they give
me now?
"'At last my heart sank within me wholly, and I folded my wings, and
through years I also sank and sank, and alighted at length upon the
place appointed for my habitation--that namely wherein I found
myself first after death. And alighting there, I fell down weary and
slept.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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