Capitolo 47
possession of those sources of pleasure that they will receive when
their bodies are raised, and their whole natures are made complete. But
"to die is profit; it is " to depart and to be with Christ that is far
better; you/he/she is entering "in the joy of their God." That dark
thought to sleep after death up to the day of judgment; the idea that
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacobs became insensitive to death, and that the last
thing that knew Jacob, was for example the kiss of Joseph and the next one,
thing that he will know will be the archangel you play a trump, the interval of
a lot of thousand of years that are a perfect empty space in its existence, are this way
otherwise from the benevolent order of the providence of God in kind and the grace,
what you/he/she cannot earn a lot of belief with believers in the simple one
representations of the Bible. That that a derision that the translation of Elijah seems,
on that theory! Where was he it translated? It made the wagons of fire,
and the horses of fire, bring him/it to a sleep of dreamless of thousand of
years? It was that pomp that the emblazonry, everybody that ardent parade, a
falsehood that doesn't mean anything but that the greatest of prophets was
you start a stupid sleep that, this day, under a sky with anybody
soul ransomed in him, and in a world where every thing there is to be
fact for God and men, holds him/it, and every other died saint, in a
useless suspension of his/her conscience, and, indeed, for so a lot of centuries,
annihilation? Poor economy in the dispensation to flood love to
intelligent we tell beings,--us him with submission,--ago this you seem to be;
neither we can think that, in the case of Elijah, it was this that was
announced by horses and wagons of fire. Wagons and horses are emblems
of flight; but if sleep was coming down on the hero of the prophetic one
you grow old, twilight would have drawn more properly on its soft veil
nature, birds would have started their evenings, clouds would have I handed
their change, melancholy colors while lilts of music, breathed from the