ngel of Beauty!'

Then, taking the brush in his glittering hands, with rapid touch he gave
the lovely face an expression of tender innocence, of virgin purity, of
maternal love and adoration, which will never cease to thrill the heart
of the faithful.

'It is the Mother of our Lord!' said the astonished brothers, as they
gazed upon the finished work.

'Zophiel!' continued the pitying angel, 'the lips of Sibyl shall repeat
thy songs, for they are all graven upon her heart! But you are now to
chant in heaven, and the canticle is to be for His praise who made all;
and when you exalt Him, put forth all your strength, and be not weary;
for you can never go far enough!

'Angelo! the Hosanna is for heaven. The Rose lingers not here to chant
alone the Miserere.'

Alas! the wild human dread and sorrow overpowered all else in the
breasts of the brothers as they gazed upon the women of their love. A
strange smile played over the heavenly face of the Angel as he murmured:
_'Are they not safe in the bosom of the everlasting Love?'_

* * * * *

Slowly through the Valley of the Shadow--and then more rapid than the
flight of thought, moved the brothers, on--on--through myriads upon
myriads of blazing suns, of starry universes; on--on--until they reached
the limits of space, the boundary of material worlds. The angels left
them as they entered the primeval night of chaos, the shoreless ocean
between the sensuous and spiritual life. For alone with God through
chaos do we arrive at the sensuous body; alone with God in chaos do we
leave this body of corruption, from which is evolved the Body of the
Spirit, 'glorious and unchangeable.' And again is clasped the thread of
_Identity,_ on which are strung the pearls of memory, and the Past and
Future of Time become the Eternal Present!

* * * * *

Clothed in immortal vesture, the brothers now stand before that Great
White Throne, which has no shadow, but is built of Light inaccessible,
and full of Glory.

Summoned by the Holy Lawgiver, the meek Anselm knelt before Him, blinded
with splendor, dazzled with fathomless majesty.

'Behold thy creature before thee for judgment, O Thou in whose sight the
angels are not pure! We are born to evil, and who may endure thy
justice? Look not into my weak and sinful heart, O God, but upon the
face of Thy Anointed, in whom is all my trust! Have mercy upon me!'

Tears of mingled gratit