XI.
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.
XII.
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?
XIII.
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.
XIV.
“I now leave you,” said my guide, “at the threshold of your new home.” The words still lingered in my ears when I beheld a pearly cloud in the sky; it was my treasure, my Turtle-dove, winging its flight towards me.