I saw the cliffs stream past; then I was unconscious, I think.
I seem to have died; but part of me was not dead. My flight was stayed,
and I floated out somewhere. I was joined to something that was like
both fire and water in one. I was seen and known and understood and
loved, perfectly and unutterably and for ever. But there was pain,
somewhere, Amroth! How was that? I am sure there was pain."
"Of course, dear child," said Amroth, "there was pain, because there was
everything."
"But," I said, "I cannot understand yet; why was that terrible leap
demanded of me? And why did I confront it with such abject cowardice and
dismay? Surely one need not go stumbling and cowed into the presence of
God?"
"There is no other way," said Amroth; "you do not understand how
terrible perfect love is. It is because it is perfect that it is
terrible. Our own imperfect love has some weakness in it. It is mixed
with pleasure, and then it is not a sacrifice; one gives as much of
oneself as one chooses; one is known just so far as one wishes to be
known. But here with God there must be no concealment--though even there
a man can withhold his heart from God--God never uses compulsion; and
the will can prevail even against Him.
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