Festus · Scene 18

XVIII

Scene⁠—Heaven.
Lucifer* and Festus*, entering.
The Archangels Infinite God! Thy will is done: The world’s last sand is all but run: The night is feeding on the sun.
Lucifer All-being God! I come to Thee again, Nor come alone. Mortality is here. Thou bad’st me do my will, and I have dared To do it. I have brought him up to Heaven;
God Thou canst not do what is not willed to be. Suns are made up of atoms, Heaven of souls; And souls and suns are but the atoms of The body I, God, dwell in. What wilt thou With him who is here with thee?
Lucifer Show him God.
God No being, upon part of whom the curse Of death rests⁠—were it only on his shadow, Can look on God and live.
Lucifer Look, Festus, look!
Festus Eternal fountain of the Infinite, On whose life-tide the stars seem strown like bubbles, Forgive me that an atomie of being Hath sought to see its Maker face to face. I have seen all Thy works and wonders, passed From star to star, from space to space, and feel That to see all which can be seen is nothing, And not to look on Thee the Invisible. The spirits that I met all seemed to say, As on they sped upon their starward course, And slackened their lightning wings on moment o’er me, I could not look on God whate’er I was. And Thou didst give this spirit at my side Power to make me more than them immortal. So when we had winged through Thy wide world of things, And seen stars made and saved, destroyed and judged, I said⁠—and trembled lest Thou shouldst not hear me, And make Thyself right ready to forgive, I will see God, before I die, in Heaven. Forgive me, Lord!
God Rise, mortal! look on me.
Festus Oh! I see nothing but like dazzling darkness.
Lucifer I knew how it would be. I am away.
Festus I am Thy creature, God! oh, slay me not, But let some angel take me, or I die.
Genius Come hither, Festus.
Who art thou?
Genius I am One who hath aye been by thee from thy birth, Thy guardian angel, thy good genius.
Festus I knew thee not till now.
Genius I am never seen In the earth’s low thick light, but here in Heaven, And in the air which God breathes, I am clear. I tell to God each night thy thoughts and deeds; And watching o’er thee both on earth and here, Pray unto Him for thee and intercede.
Festus And this is Heaven. Lead on. Will God forgive That I did long to see Him?
Genius It is the strain Of all high spirits towards Him. Thou couldst not Even if thou wouldst, behold God; masked in dust, Thine eye did light on darkness; but when dead, And the dust shaken off the shining essence, God shall glow through thee as through living glass, And every thought and atom of thy being Shall guest His glory, be overbright with God. Hadst thou not been by faith immortalized For the instant, then thine eye had been thy death. Come, I will show thee Heaven and all angels. Lo! the recording angel.
Festus Him I see High-seated, and the pen within his hand Plumed like a storm-portending cloud which curves Half over Heaven, and swift, in use divine, As is a warrior’s spear!
Genius The book wherein Are writ the records of the universe, Lies like a world laid open at his feet. And there, the Book of Life which holds the names, Formed out in starry brilliants, of God’s sons⁠— The spirit-names which angels learn by heart, Of worlds beforehand. Wilt thou see thine own?
Festus My name is written in the Book of Life. It is enough. That constellated word Is more to me and clearer than all stars, Henceforward and for aye.
Genius Raise still thine eyes! Thy gleaming throne! hewn from that mount of light Which was before created light or night Never created, Heaven’s eternal base, Whereon God’s throne is ’stablished. Sit on it!
Festus Nay, I will forestall nothing more than sight.
Genius Turn then and view yon streams where spirits sport Quaffing immortal life, preparing aye For higher and intenser Being still. These are the upper fountains of the Heavens, The emanations of Eternity; By washing them in which they purify Their eyes to penetrate the essential light In all things hidden, seen alone by eyes Fire-spirited, etherially clear, Which like the fabled stone, conceived of fire, Son of the sun, transmutes all seen to soul. And such the bliss and power reserved for man; Yet but the surface-shadow canst thou see. The substance is to be. Behold yon group Of spirits blest! in their divinest eyes The spirit speaks, and shows that in their own All doubt and want hath ceased, as death hath ceased. Hither they come, rejoicing, marvelling.
Festus How all with kindly wonder look on me! Mayhap I tell of earth to their pure sense. Some seem as if they knew me. I know none. But how claim kinship with the glorified Unless with them like-glorified! Yet, yes⁠— It is⁠—it must be;⁠—that angelic spirit!⁠— My heart outruns me⁠—mother! see thy son.
Angel Child, how art thou here?
Festus God hath let me come.
Angel Hast thou not come unbidden and unprepared?
Festus Forgive me, if it be so. I am come. And I have ever said there are two who will Forgive me aught I do⁠—my God and thou!
Angel I do! may He!
Festus Dear mother, thou art blessed; And I am blessed, too, in knowing thee.
Angel Son of my hopes on earth and prayers In Heaven! The love of God! oh, it is infinite Even as our imperfection. Promise, child, That thou wilt love Him more and more for this, And for His boundless kindness thus towards me. Now, my son, hear me! for the hours of Heaven Are not as those of earth; and all is all But lost that is not given unto God. Oft have I seen with joy thy thoughts of Heaven, And holy hopes, which track the soul with light, Rise from dead doubts within thy troubled breast, As souls of drowned bodies from the sea, Upwards to God, and marked them so received, That oh! my soul hath overflowed with rapture As now thine eye with tears. But oh! my son Beloved! fear thou ever for thy soul; It yet hath to be saved. Nought perfect stands But that which is in Heaven. God is all-kind; And long time hath he made thee think of Him; Think on Him yet in time. Ere I left earth, With the last breath which air would spare for me, With the last look which light would bless me with, I prayed thou mightst be happy and be wise⁠— And half the prayer I brought myself to God⁠— And lo! thou art unhappy and unwise.
Festus Blessed one! I rejoice that thou art clear, And all who have cared for me, of my misdeeds. Thy spirit was on those who nurtured me. All word and practice that could be of good, Was given me; so that my sin is splendid. Yes! if I have sinned, I have sinned sublimely; And I am glad I suffer for my faults. I would not if I might, be bad and happy.
Angel God laughs at ill by man made and allows it. The vaunt of mountainious evil and the power To challenge Heaven from molehill, child!
Festus God hath made but few better hearts than mine, However much it fail in the wise ways Of the world, as living in the dull dark streets Of forms and follies wherein men build themselves.
Angel The goodness of the heart is shown in deeds Of peacefulness and kindness. Hand and heart Are one thing with the good as thou shouldst be. The splendor of corruption hath no power Nor vital essence; and content in sin Shows apathy, not satisfied control. Do my words trouble thee? Then treasure them. Pain overgot gives peace as death does Heaven. All things that speak of Heaven speak of peace. Peace hath more might than war. High brows are calm. Great thoughts are still as stars; and truths, like suns, Stir not; though many systems tend round them. Mind’s step is still as death’s; and all great things Which cannot be controlled, whose end is good. Behold yon throne! there, Love, Faith, Hope are one! There, judgment, righteousness, and mercy make One and the same thing. God’s salvation is His vengeance, and his wrath glory, as on earth Destruction restoration to the pure. Humanity is perfected in Heaven.
Festus I did not make myself, nor plan my soul. I am no angel nursed in the lap of light, Nor fed on milk immortal of the stars, Nor golden fruit grown in the summery suns. How am I answerable for my heart? It is my master, and is free with me, As fixed with fate, even as a star which moves, Yet moveth only on a certain course In certain mode;⁠—its liberties are laws, Its laws tyrannic; I cannot hinder it, It cannot hinder God. All that we do Or bear is settled from eternity; Whereof is no beginning, midst, nor end. To act, is ours; quite sure, whate’er we do, Whether it be for our own good or ill, Or others’ ill or good, it is for God’s Glory⁠—the same and always: it is ordered. The soul is but an organ, and it hath No power of good and evil in itself, More than the eye hath power of light or dark. God fitted it for good; and evil is Good, in another way we are not skilled in. The good we do is of His own good will⁠— The ill, of His own letting. Doth not nature⁠— All light in life, shine, marsh-like, too, in death? Yea, wandering fires wait even on rottenness Like a stray gleam of thought in an idiot’s brain. And thus I look on souls that seem decaying In sin, and flying off by elements. All may not live again; but all which do Must change perpetually e’en in Heaven; And not by death to death, but life to life.
Angel No! step by step, and throne by throne, we rise Continually towards the infinite, And ever nearer⁠—never near⁠—to God.
Festus Yet merit or demerit none I see In nature, human or material, In passions or affections good or bad. We only know that God’s best purposes Are oftenest brought about by dreadest sins. Is thunder evil or is dew divine? Does virtue lie in sunshine, sin in storm? Is not each natural, each needful, best? How know we what is evil from what good? Wrath and revenge God claimeth as His own. And yet men speculate on right and wrong As upon day and night, forgetting both Have but one cause, and that the same⁠—God’s will, Originally, ultimately Him. All right is right divine. A worm hath rights A king cannot despoil him of, nor sin; Yet wrongs are things necessitate, like wants, And oft are well permitted to best ends. A double error sometimes sets us right. In man there is no rule o£ right and wrong Inherent as mere man. Why, conscience is The basest thing of all. Its life is passed In justifying and condemning sin; Accomplice, traitor, judge and headsman, too, But conscience knows its business and performs. Nothing is lost in nature; and no soul, Though buried in the centre of all sin, Is lost to God; but there it works His will And burns comformably. The weakest things Are to be made the examples of His might; The most defective, of His perfect grace, Whene’er He thinketh well. Oh! everything To me seems good and lovely and immortal; The whole is beautiful; and I can see Nought wrong in man nor nature, nought not meant; As from His hands it comes who fashions all, All holy as His word. The world is but A revelation. He breathes Himself upon us Before our birth, as o’er the formless void He moveth at first, and we are all inspired With His spirit. All things are God or of God. For the whole world is in the mind of God What a thought is in ours. Why boast we then Of aught? All that is good belongs to God; And good and God are all things, or shall be.
Angel There lacks in souls like thine unsaved, unraised, The light within⁠—the light of perfectness⁠— Such a there is in Heaven. The soul hath sunk And perished like a light-house in the sea; It is for God to raise it and rebuild.
Genius And his, thy son’s, He will raise. Since with me, I have shown him infinite wonders: we have oped And scanned the golden scroll of Fate, wherein Are writ, in God’s own hand, all things which happen. There we have seen the record of his being⁠— His long temptation, sin, and suffering.
Festus And hear it, oh beloved and blessed one! Mine own salvation!
Angel God is great in love; Infinite in His nature, power, and grace; Creating, and redeeming, and destroying⁠— Infinite infinitely. But in love⁠— Oh! it is the truth transcendant over all⁠— When thus to one poor spirit He gives His hand, He seems to impart His own unboundedness Of bliss. We seem to be hardly worth destroying, And much less saving; yet He loveth each As though all were His equal.
Festus I know all I have to go through henceforth⁠—all the doubts, Passions of life, and woes; but knowing them Hinders them not; I bear obeyingly; And pine no more, as once when I looked back And saw how life had balked, and foiled, and fooled me. Fresh as a spouting spring upon the hills My heart leapt out to life; it little thought Of all the vile cares that would rill into it, And the low places it would have to go through⁠— The drains, the crossings, and the null-work after. God hath endowed me with a soul that scorns life⁠— An element over and above the world’s: But the price one pays for pride is mountain-high, There is a curse beyond the rack of death⁠— A woe, wherein God hath put out His strength⁠— A pain past all the mad wretchedness we feel, When the sacked secret hath flown out of us, And the heart broken open by deep care⁠— The curse of a high spirit famishing, Because all earth but sickens it.
Angel Go, child! Fulfil thy fate! Be⁠—do⁠—bear⁠—and thank God! To me it seems as I had lived all ages Since I left earth; and thou art yet scarce man.
Festus It was not, mother, that I knew thy face; strange The luminous eclipse that is on it now, Though it was fair on earth, would have made it Even to one who knew as well as he loved thee; And if these time-tired eyes ever imaged thine, It was but for a moment, and the sight Passed; and my life was broken like a line At the first word⁠—but my heart cried out in me.
Angel I knew thee well. And now to earth again! Go, son! and say to all who once were mine⁠— I love them, and expect them.
Festus Blessed one! I will.
Angel I charge thee, Genius, bear him safely.
Genius Through light, and night, and all the powers of air, I have a passport.
Angel God be with thee, child!
Genius Come!
Festus I feel happier, better, nobler now. See where she sits, and smiles, and points me out To those who sit along with her. Who are The two?
Genius One is the mother of mankind, And one the mother of the Man who saved Mankind; and she, thine own, the mother of The last man of mankind⁠—for thou art he.
Festus Am I? It is enough: I have seen God.
Genius God and His great idea, the universe, Are over and above us. Be the one Worshipped, the other reverently proved. Wilt sojourn for a time among the worlds, And test their natures?
Festus Gladly.
Genius Seek we, then, All rareness and variety these worlds Can offer, ere we reach thine orb. Descend! Now is the age of worlds.