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God's Love |
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Chapter 1
The parents were already in bed asleep, the old clock ticked monotonously, and the wind rattled through the ill-fitting casements. At times moonlight flooded the room. The youth tossed and turned on his bed, as he pondered on the stranger's tales.
"It's not the treasures I care about" he said to himself "such coveting is miles from my mind, but I long to see the blue flower. I can't get rid of the idea. It haunts me. I never felt like this before, its as if I dreamed of it years ago, or had a vision of it in another world, for who would be so concerned about a flower in this world? And I've never heard of anyone being in love with a flower.
Where did this stranger come from? None of us had ever seen anyone like him. I don't know why he made such a deep impact on me, the others heard him, and his words didn't have the same effect on them. I cant even express the strange state I'm in. Sometimes rapt in delight......but when I forget about the blue flower, a nameless longing takes possession of me, no one can understand it. I'd think I was mad, if it were not for the fact that my thoughts are so clear and connected, and I understand so many new things. I've heard it said that in the olden days, animals, rocks, and flowers all spoke to humans. I'm haunted by the idea that they have something to tell me, and I feel as if I could comprehend their speech. I used to be devoted to dancing, now I love music.
Eventually the young man lost himself in his sweet contemplation, and fell asleep. He dreamt of strange far off lands, wild, unknown regions. He seemed to float across vast expanses of oceans, saw marvellous animals, lived with the diverse tribes of humanity, sometimes in scenes of war and riot, sometimes in peaceful huts. He lived a life of ever changing pleasures, died, came alive again, was passionately in love, and then separated from the one he loved for ever. Finally toward morning, at the break of dawn, a calmness overtook him, and his thoughts became more clear and definite. He seemed to be wandering alone through a gloomy forest. Only the occasional ray of light broke through the tangled green canopy above him. After some time he reached a little meadow on the slope of the hill. Above it towered a cliff, and at its base he saw a small opening leading into a rock-hewn passage. He hurried along it for a time until he reached a wider space, guided by a faint, glimmering light.
As he entered the grotto he was dazed by a shaft of light, bright as gold, which sprang up like a fountain, almost touching the high vaulted roof, showering down countless sparks into a great marble pool. No sound broke the silence. He approached the pool, which trembled and quivered with every colour of the rainbow. The walls of the grotto were clothed in light, which gave off a pale blue lustre, but no heat. He dipped his hand in the pool and touched his lips, and as he did he felt a thrill of energy pervade his whole being. An irresistible impulse led him to take off his clothes and bathe in this mystic element. It was a sensation of sunset clouds flowing around him. A sacred feeling flooded his inner being with heartfelt yearning, and a rush of quickened thought and feeling called up new and amazing images and pictures, which like waves of this beautiful element pressed against him like a delicate breast. It seemed as he gazed no fantasy, but reality. The very element grew transformed into beautiful maidens, each embodying herself against him momentarily.
Though each impression intoxicated him with delight, he consciously swam along the luminous stream that flowed out of the basin into the cavern. Deep, sweet sleep overpowered him.
When he woke he was lying on the soft floor of a valley at the edge
of a well. At a little distance, hazy blue cliffs rose with gleaming veins
of gold shining through their sides. All around him was a soft mellow light,
and the sky above was blue and cloudless. What most attracted him was a
lovely blue flower growing at the edge of the well. Its large glossy green
leaves overshadowed him. The air was perfumed by the fragrance of flowers
of every colour, but he cared for none of them but the blue flower, at
which he gazed in tender adoration. As he stood to examine it more closely,
it seemed to move and change , the glossy leaves bent down at the stalk
and the blossom lent towards him, the petals slowly opened and he saw a
lovely, tender face. Amazed at this sight, he was about to speak when he
was aroused by his mothers voice, and he found himself in his own room,
the golden light of early day streaming through the window.
He had been too delighted in his dream to be irritated by being woken. He embraced his mother tenderly, wishing her good morning. His father greeted him with reproaches. "You sleepy head! See how you have kept me waiting for my breakfast. Here I have been sitting and filing at my work, as your mother forbade me using the hammer lest the dear boy be disturbed! It is good that you have chosen a learned profession, I've been told that learned doctors have to study half the night."
"Dear Father" replied Heinrich "don't be angry with me for over sleeping again, I was very late in falling asleep, and tossed in restless dreams, until at last I had a dream which I can never forget, and which indeed, seems more than a mere dream."
"Child, said his mother, "you have been lying on your back, or your thoughts have been astray on evening prayers. You look quite strange. Eat and drink and cheer up."
The mother went out, his father went on working and grumbling - "dreams are froth, whatever the highly learned gentlemen might say, and you shouldn't let your mind dwell on such nonsense. The ages are long since past since God spoke to men in dreams, and we can neither think nor guess about the feelings of the chosen few of whom the Bible tells us. In those days, human affairs and dreams were in a different phase. In our days there is no open communication with heaven. The old writings are our only sources of our knowledge of the supernatural.
Instead of open revelation, the Holy Spirit now influences the intellect of gifted men, and teaches us by the lives of good men. I care little about the miracle-working images that the priests tell us about, though I would never laugh at anyone's faith.
"But father why are you so opposed to dreams, when by their strange changes and tender influence, they awaken reflection? Isn't every dream, even the most confused, a curious cleft in the mysterious curtain that veils our inner life? In the wisest books you find countless dreams of trustworthy men. Just think of the dream that the Court Chaplain told us the other day, and which appeared to you so remarkable.
But apart from these tales, if you only had one dream in your life, how would you wonder at so unheard of occurrence? I think dreams are a relief from the monotony of life, a refreshment for our fancy, they interrupt the serious tenor of life with a little play. Were it not for dreams, we would grow old sooner. And so, without having to put too much store in them, we can look on them as cheerful companions in life's journey from the cradle to the grave. Certainly my last nights dream was no chance occurrence in my life, it was as if a great wheel raised my soul in its tremendous gyrations."
The father smiled cheerfully, and turning to the mother who had just walked in, said, "Mother, Heinrich bears the mark of my own youthful impressions. I was a different man at the time of our marriage. I had just returned from Rome, the warm Southern climate had thawed my Northern nature, I was overflowing with fun and spirit, and you were a bright lovely girl. How well I remember our wedding. It was the happiest ever celebrated at Augsburg, and your father had sent for all the actors and singers from near and far."
"Do you remember telling me in those days of a strange dream you had in Rome" said the mother" a dream which, you assured me led to Augsburg to court me?"
"You recall it to me in the nick of time" replied the father, "I had almost forgotten about it, but though it made a great impression on me at the time, it is a proof of all that I have said. No one could have had a more distinct and consecutive dream - even now I can recall every incident clearly, but what has it led to? That soon after I longed to see you, and call you mine was very natural, as I knew you well. I had been struck at first sight by your sweet cheerful nature, only my longing for distant scenes had prevented my making love to you. When the dream occurred, I was weary of travel, and longing for home."
"Father, tell me your dream."
"One evening said the father, "I felt sad and homesick, and leaving my noisy companions, strolled out under the deep blue sky, amid old pillars and ruins that looked weird and ghostly in the pale light of the moon. Feeling thirsty, I went up to a large country house to ask for a drink of milk. An old man came out and looked at me suspiciously. I made my request, and when he saw that I was a stranger, and a German, he kindly asked me into his study, and set a bottle of wine before me. He had me sit down, and asked me what my profession was. The room was full of books and antiquities. We entered into conversation, and he told me much that was interesting about olden times, poets sculptors and artists. I felt as if I was in a new sphere. He showed me cameos and seals, and other works of art. Then read some poems with marvellous fire and emphasis.
"It warms my heart even now to think of the talk, which lasted far into the night. At last he showed me into a bedroom as it was too late to return to town. I soon fell asleep and dreamt that I was standing at the gate of my fathers town. I felt as if I was bound on some important errand, but could not recall what it was. On I went towards the Harz Mountains. I was happy and light-hearted, as if at a wedding, as I hurried up hill, and down dale, through woods and meadows, until I reached the top of a high mountain. Below flowed the golden Aue, and fair Thuringa lay stretched at my feet. Opposite me was the noble range of the Harz, with countless castles, convents, and farms nestling amid the woods. Presently I perceived a stairway cut into the rock, down which I took my way. In a short time reached a grotto. There sat an old man, in flowing robes, absorbed in contemplation of a beautiful maiden sculptured in whitest marble. The old man's beard swept the ground. He looked grave yet friendly, much like one of the works of art I had been looking at during the evening. The cavern was full of light. As I stood gazing at the old hermit, my host tapped me on the shoulder and took me by the hand, and led me down long gloomy passages. After a while I saw light, and hastened towards it. Soon I found myself in a luxuriant meadow, but all around me was far different from Thuringia. Gigantic trees, with large glossy leaves, cast a deep shadow on the ground. The air was hot, but not oppressive. There were flowers and streams in all directions, and amongst all the flowers one particularly charmed me-"
"Oh Father, tell me what was its colour?" Heinrich asked excitedly.
"I cannot remember"
"Was it blue?"
"Maybe," continued his father without noticing Heinrich's emotion "but I do remember that it awoke inexpressible sensations in my mind. I turned around and saw my gentle guide smiling at me. What happened next I don't clearly remember. Again, we stood on a hill, my guide stood by me.' You have seen the wonder of the world' he said 'It depends on yourself to be the happiest man in the world and to achieve honour. Heed my words, if you return here on the eve of St John, and pray to God to enlighten you as to the dream, you may have the highest earthly life. Mark a little blue flower which you will see on your way. Pick it and humbly await divine guidance.' Then my dream led me among the noblest forms of men, and endless ages passed with their bewildering changes before my eyes. My tongue seemed unloosed. What I said sounded like sweetest music. Then I looked up and saw your mother, with a friendly blushing face. She held a beauteous child in her arms, which she placed in mine. The child seemed suddenly to grow and expand. A dazzling white light enfolded it as it unfolded snow white wings and rose into the air. It flew and soared higher and higher, until the earth lay beneath us like a golden ball. I woke took a friendly farewell of my host who begged me to return. I should have done so, but a sudden impulse made me leave Rome, and hurry home to Augsburg as I longed intensely to meet your mother."