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THE SOUL IN PURGATORY; OR LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH.
THE angels strung their harps in heaven, and their music went up like a stream of odours to the pavilions of the Most High; but the harp of Seralim was sweeter than that of his fellows, and the Voice of the Invisible One (for the angels themselves know not the glories of Jehovah--only far in the depths of heaven they see one Unsleeping Eye watching forever over Creation) was heard saying,-- "Ask a gift for the love that burns in thy song, and it shall be given thee." And Seralim answered,-- "There is in that place which men call Purgatory, and which is the escape from hell, but the painful porch of heaven, many souls that adore Thee, and yet are punished justly for their sins; grant me the boon to visit them at times, and solace their suffering by the hymns of the harp that is consecrated to Thee!" And the Voice answered,-- "Thy prayer is heard, O gentlest of the angels! and it seems good to Him who chastises but from love.

Go! Thou hast thy will." Then the angel sang the praises of God; and when the song was done he rose from his azure throne at the right hand of Gabriel, and, spreading his rainbow wings, he flew to that melancholy orb which, nearest to earth, echoes with the shrieks of souls that by torture become pure.
There the unhappy ones see from afar the bright courts they are hereafter to obtain, and the shapes of glorious beings, who, fresh from these Fountains of Immortality, walk amidst the gardens of Paradise, and feel that their happiness hath no morrow; and this thought consoles amidst their torments, and makes the true difference between Purgatory and Hell.
Then the angel folded his wings, and entering the crystal gates, sat down upon a blasted rock and struck his divine lyre, and a peace fell over the wretched; the demon ceased to torture and the victim to wail.
As sleep to the mourners of earth was the song of the angel to the souls of the purifying star: one only voice amidst the general stillness seemed not lulled by the angel; it was the voice of a woman, and it continued to cry out with a sharp cry,-- "Oh, Adenheim, Adenheim! mourn not for the lost!" The angel struck chord after chord, till his most skilful melodies were exhausted; but still the solitary voice, unheeding--unconscious of--the sweetest harp of the angel choir, cried out,-- "Oh, Adenheim, Adenheim! mourn not for the lost!" Then Seralim's interest was aroused, and approaching the spot whence the voice came, he saw the spirit of a young and beautiful girl chained to a rock, and the demons lying idly by.

And Seralim said to the demons, "Doth the song lull ye thus to rest ?" And they answered, "Her care for another is bitterer than all our torments; therefore are we idle." Then the angel approached the spirit, and said in a voice which stilled her cry--for in what state do we outlive sympathy?
--"Wherefore, O daughter of earth, wherefore wailest thou with the same plaintive wail; and why doth the harp that soothes the most guilty of thy companions fail in its melody with thee ?" "O radiant stranger," answered the poor spirit, "thou speakest to one who on earth loved God's creature more than God; therefore is she thus justly sentenced.

But I know that my poor Adenheim mourns ceaselessly for me, and the thought of his sorrow is more intolerable to me than all that the demons can inflict." "And how knowest thou that he laments thee ?" asked the angel.
"Because I know with what agony I should have mourned for _him_," replied the spirit, simply.
The divine nature of the angel was touched; for love is the nature of the sons of heaven.