In a moment the past was severed from the future, all memory of my former being vanished. I soared through space without an effort, obeying my new condition implicitly, just as on earth one loves and thinks without knowing why one does so, or how thought and love have come to form so important a part of our earthly lives.
I had floated away so far from the world that it seemed nothing more than a bright speck in an ocean of immensity. For a moment I recalled my loss, the body I had left behind, and exclaimed, “Shall the joys of my future banish regret, or is sorrow also eternal?”
Is there no link in heaven to bind one to what is dear on earth? Has my life among mortals been a dream? Still I was wafted upward and onward to a region full of stars, where I passed from one orb to another. Bright stars, whither am I going? But the stars, yielding no response, noiselessly ranged themselves to light me on my way.
I was floating in a realm of light. Space spread out before me like an azure veil studded with diamonds. But the light of the stars was eclipsed by a greater refulgence. Filled with awe, I paused, and the voice—more silvery than the sweetest tones of earth—whispered, “Follow me, we shall only stop in a blissful region. You are at the { 322} gates of paradise. Follow me and fear not, doubt not. Doubt is born of the devil, faith is an attribute of heaven.
The speaker was a purified immortal, the spirit of a snow-white Dove that death had taken in all the beauty of its youth, unsullied by the sight of human misery. Its mission was to receive and guide liberated spirits on their way to the new world.
I then saw—what I had not been able to perceive before, owing to the imperfection of my sight—many disembodied spirits, each, like myself, floating towards some resting-place. My first sensation on finding myself in such company was fear mingled with a vague hope which impelled me onwards. “Sweet spirit,” I said to my guide, “the Turtle-dove’s paradise, is it far?”
“See,” he replied, smiling at my impatience—“see yonder orb alone. There is the seventh heaven, where our arrival is awaited.”
Who can want me there? I thought. Is it still alive?
Ascending beyond worlds and spheres without number, we alighted at a gate whence shone the most dazzling light, eclipsing the sun in brightness. Above the portal was inscribed in letters of fire, “Here is the abode of undying love;” and beneath, “Here is no change save that of ever-growing love.” The door flew open, but what can I say of the sight revealed to my gaze? No words of mine can picture the glorious light which, without pain or strain of vision, revealed everything so clearly that the minutest details of the picture could be seen and understood.