BestLightNovel.com

Child Stories from the Masters Part 3

Child Stories from the Masters - BestLightNovel.com

You’re reading novel Child Stories from the Masters Part 3 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy

It shone even in the face of the Faust as he pa.s.sed.

And behold, when Margaret looked at him he had grown young. His hair glinted in the sun and the wonder had come back to his eyes. b.u.t.terflies circled above them, and they went on and on, free and glad together, and the holy light was over everything.

But the poet tells us that afterwards Faust traveled into a very strange, far world, where there was never any silence or living flowers.

Nothing was perfect or holy there, and Margaret could not go. But they tell us that whenever he looked away from this strange world, he heard again the singing, and smelled the faint fragrance of lilies, and it seemed to him that he was there again in the light, 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."_

[Ill.u.s.tration:

_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 G.o.d. 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 G.o.d and spoke to him and led him up, and showed him Heaven.

But his eyes were so dim at first, it seemed only the s.h.i.+ning 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d. 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 G.o.d and man live together, and the angels cannot tell G.o.d from man or man from G.o.d.

And Beatrice showed Dante this great mystery. And he stood still, looking, with the great light s.h.i.+ning 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 G.o.d see men.

Heaven is here, little children. Let us love one another.

FROM "PARSIFAL."

[Music: By pity 'lightened, the guileless Fool;]

--_Richard Wagner._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed 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 had pa.s.sed above them. And the youth stood there with great wonder and trouble in his heart, for he saw the suffering of the king, and how the knights longed and waited; he heard their voices in solemn tones, and the mourning voice of the king. And lo, while he looked, a wonderful glowing light pa.s.sed above them. The knights all rose up with great joy in their hearts and looked at the boy, for the blessed miracle had come again, and it was a sign.

But Parsifal stood still with wonder and trouble in his heart; and when they asked if he knew what his eyes had seen, he only shook his head.

So the hope and joy went from the knights, and they led him out and sent him on his way.

And the boy Parsifal traveled down into the world. And as he went he met many wrongs, and he began to know what evils there were.

Now whenever one crossed his way, he went to it and handled it. But behold his mind was so pure and G.o.dlike that whenever he touched evil to learn what it was, it grew into some gentle thing in his hand. He went throughout the whole world seeking to know what evil was, but he was so mild and beautiful that wrongs fell away before him, or were healed as he pa.s.sed. And he went on and on to the very kingdom of Evil, at last, and when its king saw him, he cried out with a great cry, and hurled his spear; but it only floated above the head of Parsifal, and when he seized it in his hand the whole kingdom melted away. And Parsifal found he was standing in a sunny meadow not far from the holy mountain; and he went up to the knights and stood with them in the temple, and his face was like the face of an angel. They say the king was healed as he looked, and that the wonderful light shone above them and was with them always,--forever.

Where the quiet colored end of evening smiles, Miles and miles.

--_Robert Browning._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _By Jean Francois Millet_

THE ANGELUS]

THE ANGELUS.

Every evening after sunset, when the most wonderful soft light is in the sky and it is very still everywhere, the old bell in the steeple chimes out over the village and the fields around. No one quite knows what the evening bell sings, but the tone is so beautiful that everyone stands still and listens.

Ever since the oldest grandfather can remember, the dear bell has sung at evening and everyone has listened, and listened, for the message.

A great many people said there was really no message at all, and one very learned man wrote a whole book to show that the song of the evening bell was nothing but the clanging of bra.s.s and iron; and almost everyone who read it believed it. But there were many who were not wise enough to read, so they listened to the sweet tone just as lovingly as they had listened when they were little children.

Please click Like and leave more comments to support and keep us alive.

RECENTLY UPDATED MANGA

Child Stories from the Masters Part 3 summary

You're reading Child Stories from the Masters. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Maud Menefee. Already has 666 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

BestLightNovel.com is a most smartest website for reading manga online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to BestLightNovel.com