![]() ![]() 'He will raise the child to life!' confidently shouts the crowd. Children strew flowers along His path and sing to Him, 'Hosanna!' It is He, it is Himself, they say to each other, it must be He, it can be none other but He! He pauses at the portal of the old cathedral, just as a wee white coffin is carried in, with tears and great lamentations.in the coffin lies the body of a fair-child, seven years old.The little corpse lies buried in flowers.Silently, and with a smile of boundless compassion upon His lips, He crosses the dense crowd, and moves softly on. ![]() He comes silently and unannounced yet all-how strange-yea, all recognize Him, at once! The population rushes towards Him as if propelled by some irresistible force it surrounds, throngs, and presses around, it follows Him.Blavatsky, The Theosophist, (November-December 1881) Full text online, multiple formats (Translation by H. ![]()
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