第 27 页

and love; for we know that not a sparrow falleth without God, and

that the hairs of our heads are numbered. Every act of kindness

or unselfishness on my part, also, stands out like a golden

letter or a white stone, and gives me unspeakable comfort. At

the last judgment, and in eternity following, we shall have very

different but just as real bodies as those that we possessed in

the flesh. The dead at the last trump will rise clothed in them,

and at that time the souls in paradise will receive them also."

"I wonder," thought Ayrault, "on which hand we shall be placed in

that last day."

"The classification is now going on," said the spirit, answering

his thought, "and I know that in the final judgment each

individual will range himself automatically on his proper side."

"Do tell me," said Ayrault, "how you were able to answer my

thought."

"I see the vibrations of the grey matter of your brain as plainly

as the movements of your lips"; in fact, I see the thoughts in

the embryonic state taking shape."

When their meal was ready they sat down, Ayrault placing the

spirit on his right, with Cortlandt on his left, and having

Bearwarden opposite. On this occasion their chief had given them

a particularly good dinner, but the spirit took only a slice of

meat and a glass of claret.

"Won't you tell us the story of your life," said Ayrault to the

spirit, "and your experiences since your death? They would be of

tremendous interest to us."

"I was a bishop in one of the Atlantic States," replied the

spirit gravely, "and died shortly before the civil war. People

came from other cities to hear my sermons, and the biographical

writers have honoured my memory by saying that I was a great man.

I was contemporaneous with Daniel Webster and Henry Clay.

Shortly after I reached threescore and ten, according to earthly

years, I caught what I considered only a slight cold, for I had

always had good health, but it became pneumonia. My friends,

children, and grandchildren came to see me, and all seemed going

well, when, without warning, my physician told me I had but a few

hours to live. I could scarcely believe my ears; and though, as

a Churchman, I had ministered to others and had always tried to

lead a good life, I was greatly shocked. I suddenly remembered

all the things I had left undone and all the things I intended to

do, and the old saying, 'Hell is paved with good intentions,'

crossed my mind very forcibly. In less than an hour I saw the

physician was right; I grew weaker and my pulse fluttered, but my

mind remained clear. I prayed to my Creator with all my soul, 'O

spare me a little, that I may recover my strength, before I go

hence, and be no more seen.' As if for an answer, the thought

crossed my brain, 'Set thine house in order, for thou shalt not

live, but die.' I then called my children and made disposition

of such of my property and personal effects as were not covered

by my will. I also gave to each the advice that my experience

had shown me he or she needed. Then came another wave of remorse

and regret, and again an intense longing to pray; but along with

the thought of sins and neglected duties came also the memory of

the honest efforts I had made to obey my conscience, and these

were like rifts of sunshine during a storm. These thoughts, and

the blessed promises of religion I had so often preached in the

churches of my diocese, were an indescribable comfort, and saved

me from the depths of blank despair. Finally my breathing became

laboured, I had sharp spasms of pain, and my pulse almost

stopped. I felt that I was dying, and my sight grew dim. The

crisis and climax of life were at hand. 'Oh!' I thought, with

the philosophers and sages, 'is it to this end I lived? The

flower appears, briefly blooms amid troublous toil, and is gone;

my body returns to its primordial dust, and my works are buried

in oblivion. The paths of life and glory lead but to the grave.'

My soul was filled with conflicting thoughts, and for a moment

even my faith seemed at a low ebb. I could hear my children's

stifled sobs, and my darling wife shed silent tears. The thought

of parting from them gave me the bitterest wrench. With my

fleeting breath I gasped these words, 'That mercy I showed

others, that show thou me.' The darkened room grew darker, and

after that I died. In my sleep I seemed to dream. All about

were refined and heavenly flowers, while the most delightful

sounds and perfumes filled the air. Gradually the vision became

more distinct, and I experienced an indescribable feeling of

peace and repose. I passed through fields and scenes I had never

seen before, while every place was filled with an all-pervading

light. Sometimes I seemed to be miles in air; countless suns and

their planets shone, and dazzled my eyes, while no

bird-of-paradise was as happy or free as I. Gradually it came to

me that I was awake, and that it was no dream. Then I remembered

my last moments, and perceived that I had died. Death had

brought freedom, my work in the flesh was ended, I was indeed

alive.

"'O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?'

In my dying moments I had forgotten what I had so often

preached--'Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened

except it die.' In a moment my life lay before me like a valley

or an open page. All along its paths and waysides I saw the

little seeds of word and deed that I had sown extending and

bearing fruit forever for good or evil. I then saw things as

they were, and realized the faultiness of my former conclusions,

based as they had been on the incomplete knowledge obtained

through embryonic senses. I also saw the Divine purpose in life

as the design in a piece of tapestry, whereas before I had seen

but the wrong side. It is not till we have lost the life in the

flesh that we realize its dignity and value, for every hour gives

us opportunities of helping or elevating some human being-- it

may be ourselves--of doing something in His service.

"Now that time is past, the books are closed, and we can do

nothing further ourselves to alter our status for eternity,

however much we may wish to. It is on this account, and not

merely to save you from death, which in itself is nothing, that I

now tell you to run to the Callisto, seal the doors hermetically,

and come not forth till a sudden rush of air that you will see on

the trees has passed. A gust in which even birds drop dead, if

they are unable to escape, will be here when you reach safety.

Do not delay to take this food, and eat none of it when you

return, for it will be filled with poisonous germs."

"How can we find you? " asked Ayrault, grasping his hand. "You

must not leave us till we know how we can see you again."

"Think hard and steadfastly of me, you three," replied the

spirit, "if you want me, and I shall feel your thought"; saying

which, he vanished before their eyes, and the three friends ran

to the Callisto.

CHAPTER III.

DOUBTS AND PHILOSOPHY.

On reaching it, they climbed the ladder leading to the

second-story opening, and entering through this, they closed the

door, screwing it tightly in place.

"Now," said Cortlandt, "we can see what changes, if any, this

wonderful gust will effect."

"He made no strictures on our senses, such as they are," said

Bearwarden, "but implied that evolution would be carried much

further in us, from which I suppose we may infer that it has not

yet gone far. I wish we had recorked those brandy peaches, for

now they will be filled with poisonous germs. I wonder if our

shady friend could not tell us of an antiseptic with which they

might be treated?"

"Those fellows," thought Ayrault, who had climbed to the dome,

from which he had an extended view, "would jeer at an angel,

while the deference they showed the spirit seems, as usual, to

have been merely superficial."

"Let us note," said Cortlandt, "that the spirit thermometer

outside has fallen several degrees since we entered, though, from

the time taken, I should not say that the sudden change would be

one of temperature."

Just then they saw a number of birds, which had been resting in a

clump of trees, take flight suddenly; but they fell to the ground

before they had risen far, and were dashed to pieces. In another

moment the trees began to bend and sway before the storm; and as

they gazed, the colour of the leaves turned from green and purple

to orange and red. The wind blew off many of these, and they

were carried along by the gusts, or fluttered to the ground,

which was soon strewed with them. It was a typical autumnal

scene. Presently the wind shifted, and this was followed by a

cold shower of rain.

"I think the worst is over," said Bearwarden. "The Sailor's

Guide says:

'When the rain's before the wind,

Halliards, sheets, and braces mind;

When the wind's before the rain,

Soon you can make sail again.'

Doubtless that will hold good here."

This proved to be correct; and, after a repetition of the

precautions they had taken on their arrival on the planet in

regard to the inhalability of the air, they again sallied forth.

They left their magazine shot-guns, taking instead the

double-barrelled kind, on account of the rapidity with which this

enabled them to fire the second barrel after the first, and threw

away the water that had collected in the bucket, out of respect

to the spirit's warning. They noticed a pungent odour, and

decided to remain on high ground, since they had observed that

the birds, in their effort to escape, had flown almost vertically

into the air. On reaching the grove in which they had seen the

storm, they found their table and everything on it exactly as

they had left it. Bearwarden threw out the brandy peaches on the

ground, exclaiming that it was a shame to lose such good

preserves, and they proceeded on their walk. They passed

hundreds of dead birds, and on reaching the edge of the toadstool

valley were not a little surprised to find that every toadstool

had disappeared.

"I wonder," said the doctor, "if there can be any connection

between the phenomenon of the disappearance of those toadstools

and the death of the birds? We could easily discover it if they

had eaten them, or if in any other way the plants could have

entered their bodies; but I see no way in which that can have

happened."

Resolving to investigate carefully any other fungi they might

see, they resumed their march. The cold, distant-looking sun,

apparently about the size of an orange, was near the horizon.

Saturn's rotation on its axis occupying only ten hours and

fourteen minutes, being but a few minutes longer than Jupiter's,

they knew it would soon be night. Finding a place on a range of

hills sheltered by rocks and a clump of trees of the evergreen

species, they arranged themselves as comfortably as possible, ate

some of the sandwiches they had brought, lighted their pipes, and

watched the dying day. Here were no fire-flies to light the

darkening minutes, nor singing flowers to lull them to sleep with

their song but six of the eight moons, each at a different phase,

and with varied brightness, bathed the landscape in their pale,

cold rays; while far above them, like a huge rainbow, stretched

the great rings in effulgent sheets, reaching thousands of miles

into space, and flooded everything with their silvery light.

"How poor a place compared with this," they thought to

themselves, "is our world!" and Ayrault wished that his soul was

already free; while the dead leaves rustling in the gentle

breeze, and the nightwinds, sighing among the trees, seemed to

echo his thought. Far above their heads, and in the vastness of

space, the well-known stars and constellations, notwithstanding

the enormous distance they had now come, looked absolutely

unchanged, and seemed to them emblematic of tranquillity and

eternal repose. The days were changed by their shortness, and by

the apparent loss of power in the sun; and the nights, as if in

compensation, were magnificently illuminated by the numerous

moons and splendid rings, though neither rings nor satellites

shone with as strong a light as the terrestrial moon. But in

nothing outside of the solar system was there any change; and

could AEneas's Palinurus, or one of Philip of Macedon's

shepherds, be brought to life here, he would see exactly the same

stars in the same positions; and, did he not know of his own

death or of the lapse of time, he might suppose, so far as the

heavens were affected, that he had but fallen asleep, or had just

closed his eyes.

"I have always regretted," said Cortlandt, "that I was not born a

thousand years later."

"Were it not," added Ayrault, "that our earth is the vestibule to

space, and for the opportunities it opens, I should rather never

have lived, for life in itself is unsatisfying."

"You fellows are too indefinite and abstract for me," said

Bearwarden. "I like something tangible and concrete. The

utilitarianism of the twentieth century, by which I live,

paradoxical though it may seem, would be out of place in space,

unless we can colonize the other planets, and improve their

arrangements and axes."

Mixed with Ayrault's philosophical and metaphysical thoughts were

the memories of his sweetheart at Vassar, and he longed, more

than his companions, for the spirit's return, that he might ask

him if perchance he could tell him aught of her, and whether her