Child Stories from the Masters | Page 8

with the blessed Margaret leading him on forever.

Oh, eternal light! For I therein, methought, in its own hue, Beheld our image painted.
--From Dante's "Paradise."
[Illustration:
By Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THE BEATA BEATRICE]
BEATRICE.
Dear children, there is a great story of Heaven told by a poet called Dante, who dreamed that he was led through Heaven by the beautiful Beatrice.
And this is how it was. Dante had come to think so many unloving thoughts of all the people, that whenever he went about the streets of Florence where he lived, he thought he saw evil marks on all the faces. And it seemed to him that everyone in the world was lost from God. And the angry sorrow in his heart grew so great that there was not a single loving, hopeful thought in it. Then there came to him a wonderful vision. It seemed to him that Beatrice, whom he loved, came down from God and spoke to him and led him up, and showed him Heaven.
But his eyes were so dim at first, it seemed only the shining of a few small stars. But as they journeyed, Beatrice spoke to him of many things he had not understood, and while she talked, Heaven grew plainer and he saw that the stars were all shining together in a soft radiance, like the halos of many saints. And the wisdom of the world began to slip from Dante, and he stood there in Heaven as a little child.
Beatrice led him on and on, and whenever she wished him to see Heaven more plainly she talked of the world he lived in and the men he hated. Now when one who lives with God speaks of hate, it is nothing. And as he listened, Dante began to see that Man was in Heaven. When he had learned this, they went with a great flight up to God. And behold! it seemed to Dante that the higher he went in Heaven the nearer home he came, for all around him there were faces that he knew.
And they went on and on to the very highest Heaven, where God and man live together, and the angels cannot tell God from man or man from God. And Beatrice showed Dante this great mystery. And he stood still, looking, with the great light shining into his eyes.
Although he does not tell us what he saw, we know it was Florence, where he lived, and that he was looking at all the people with loving eyes, and seeing them just as those who live with God see men.
Heaven is here, little children. Let us love one another.

FROM "PARSIFAL."
[Music: By pity 'lightened, the guileless Fool;]
--Richard Wagner.
[Illustration: By George Frederick Watts
ASPIRATION]
PARSIFAL.
Long, long ago, when the old nations were child-nations, they had the most wonderful dreams and stories in their hearts; and they told them over so many, many times, with love and wonder, that they grew into Art,--poems and songs and pictures. And there is one beautiful story which you will find in many songs and poems, for almost every nation has told it in its own way. And this is it:
Long, long ago--so long that no one can tell whether it really happened or whether the old German folk only dreamed it--there was a band of knights who went away and lived together on a beautiful high mountain, far above the world, where no evil might ever come to them; and there they thought of nothing but pure and holy things. The purest knight was chosen king among them, and led them in all high things; and they lived so for many years, keeping themselves from wrong and beholding blessed wonders that the world had never seen,--miracles of light that sometimes passed above them.
But once there came an evil thought to the very king; nothing could put it away, and it was like a spear-wound in his side that nothing could heal. It was the greatest suffering; it even touched the joy of the knights, for they began to think only of what would heal the king. Many went far and wide, seeking a cure, while others dropped back to the world again; for the pattern of purity was not perfect any longer, and they seemed to forget what it had been. All the miracles stopped, and the sick king and the knights waited and waited for one who was pure enough to show them the perfect pattern again.
And one day a youth passed by who was so innocent that he did not know what wrong was. When the knights beheld him they looked in wonder, and said: "Is it not he, the innocent one, who will save us?" and they led him up to the temple. And behold, it was the time of the holy feast, when long ago the light