CHAPTER X.
The next excursion of any importance which I made was in the company of Principal Grey, who proved a splendid cicerone, inasmuch as she spared no pains to explain everything which presented itself to me in a puzzling aspect. I had often visited different European countries, and had been greatly interested by many things I saw. But in New Amazonia the constant predominating feeling wasamazement, not mere interest.
Fancy going through a city, anywhere in Europe, in our own days, without seeing either a beggar or a poverty stricken individual of any sort. Dirt, squalor, drunkenness, profane language, sickness, rags, and a thousand other miseries, meet us at every turn in the poorer quarters of our big cities. But not one of these things did I note in New Amazonia. Purity, peace, health, harmony, and comfort reigned in their stead, and presented a picture such as I had never hoped to gaze upon in this world.
But what ultimately struck me as the strangest thing I had yet observed, was the fact that I had not seen a single old woman or man since I came here, and I determined to appease my curiosity on the subject as soon as possible, by addressing some questions to Principal Grey.
“How is it that I have seen no old people since I came to your country?” I asked. “Is it because you keep them secluded after they have arrived at a certain age, or because you die comparatively young?”
“My dear woman,” was the Principal’s reply, “We haveboth met and spoken to a great many old people this very evening. Do you mind telling me what you call old age? Perhaps your ideas and mine on the subject differ considerably.”
“Well,” I replied, “We call seventy or eighty very old, of course.”
The Professor looked at me with great astonishment. “Seventy or eighty!” she exclaimed. “Why, how old do you take me to be?”
Had it been an ordinary English lady who had asked me this home question, I should probably have hesitated in my reply. But this was a being who despised the appellativelady, with all its accompanying affectations, and prided herself upon nothing so much as being an honest, truthful, candidwoman. So I made what I considered to be a fair guess, and replied that I judged her age to be about forty or thereabouts.
“Only forty!” was the disparaging comment upon this guess. “I am very glad to say that it is long since I passed that baby age. One must be at least forty-five before a position like mine is attainable. I have occupied my present post for thirty-five years.”
“Now, you are asking me to believe too much,” I expostulated. “Why, you would at that rate be eighty years old at the very least, and you have not even the suspicion of a wrinkle about you.”
“Wrinkles are not necessary evils,” I was told. “We prefer to do without them, and seldom see them in real life, though we are familiar enough with their presentment in ancient prints. My actual age is one hundred and fourteen years, and I hope to live a life of honourable usefulness for many years to come, without losing the proud consciousness that I belong to a race of beings fashioned and developed in the Life-giver’s own image.”
I could only ejaculate the surprise I felt at this startling information, and stammer something to the effect that I had never before seen anyone who had lived a whole century, and that when such a rare thing did occur in my country, it was considered a fit occurrence to be recorded in the newspapers.
“Can you tell me what anyone of my age would look like in your country? Supposing that I myself were one of you, and had reached my present age under the normal conditions which govern life with you, what do you really suppose I would look like?”
I am the reverse of clever with my pencil, but the picture which I rapidly sketched would, in my opinion, have proved rather flattering than otherwise, under the circumstances indicated by the Principal. She, however, evidently did not regard it in that light, for she looked at the sketch with a face of horror and repulsion, which was as comical to me as it was evidently real.
“What a frightful country to live in,” she exclaimed, “if everyone who has attained to years of discretion is doomed to look like that! I would rather pass my probation with the spirits than endure such a hideous mockery of life. To watch the gradual decay of all physical beauty must be an almost unendurable torment.”
“There you are mistaken,” I responded, somewhat warmly. “Our old people, provided they have, by an honourable and useful life, gained the respect of their fellows, are honoured more in old age than in comparative youth. It is true that the eyesight becomes impaired; the sense of hearing fails; the teeth fall out; the appetite becomes dulled; strength vanishes; and the gait becomes feeble and halting. But it is also true that in most cases the mental faculties are simultaneously affected, and that the consciousness of physical deterioration, therefore, failsto affect our old people as powerfully as you might think.”
“Worse and worse!” cried the Principal, with emphatic conviction. “It seems to me that with you to live is simply to be fully conscious of dying. No New Amazonian would support such a miserable existence for a day. I, for one, would at once resolve to disembody myself, and seek final glorification in a less trammelled state.”
“Disembody yourself? Do you mean that you would commit suicide?”
“I mean that my body should cease to live.”
“But it is a crime to take the life God gave us.”
“I see that superstition ranks rife with you. We should consider it a much greater crime to permit a grovelling, decaying body to chain the spirit to earth and nothingness, than to sever the life which prevents it from seeking perfection in more congenial regions.”
“I certainly do feel lamentably dense and ignorant while listening to you. I cannot, for instance, fathom your meaning when you say the spirit can seek perfection after death.”
“The spirit never dies. The body is but the casing in which the spirit is given its greatest opportunities of seeking final glorification. As we acquire knowledge of every kind, and learn more and more to fathom the secrets which nature has so long guarded with such jealousy, so much nearer shall we be towards the ultimate perfection of the spirit which assimilates most nearly to Life-giver herself, and constitutes our ideal of final bliss. After the death of our material form, we still strive to reach our desired goal, but our progress, when disembodied, is not so rapid as while still inhabiting our earthly casing, and our ultimate arrival at the zenith of wisdom, purity, and bliss; in other words, Heaven, may be delayed for ages by a premature exit from this world.
“Naturally, therefore, we try to prolong the healthy life of the body by all the arts in our power, knowing that it is given us as a special means of attaining Heavenly perfection. A diseased body inevitably affects the mind, and prevents it from soaring upwards. Therefore, we argue, one of the surest ways of reaching Heaven is to cultivate the health and perfection of the body.
“If this material part of us, therefore, falls into permanent sickness, uselessness, and decay, it but serves to trammel the spirit, and hinder its further advancement. This we are not inclined to tolerate, and when the misfortune of physical wreck overtakes any of us, we liberate the spirit without any wasteful delay. A certain mineral extract, added to an ordinary dose of Schlafstrank, quietly and painlessly disposes of our physical existence, and sends the spirit on its way, rejoicing in its new found freedom.”
“You mean that what we call chronic invalidism does not exist among you, simply because your people are in the habit of killing themselves as soon as health leaves them. It is one way of escaping earthly troubles. But are there not some exceedingly painful scenes when the conviction is forced home to anyone that it is becoming necessary to do this? Do you feel no horror of the passage from Here to the great Hereafter?”
“Why should we? A sickly body is no fit tenement for a spirit which is striving for Allwisdom and Deitic Purity. So the sooner we discard it, the sooner we reach Heaven. Sometimes we are sorry to leave friends behind, but I never heard anyone who felt the slightest dread of severance, or who ever hesitated a moment as to the ultimate benefits of such a step. On the contrary, it often occurs that New Amazonians are inclined to discard the body before it is needful or expedient to do so. We, therefore, do not sanction self-extinction until our physicians andsurgeons have carefully diagnosed a case, and pronounced their opinion on it. If there is any chance of recovery, the patient is subjected to the influence of Schlafstrank, and eventually awakens cheerfully, prepared to make a sensible use of the respite given to the body. If recovery is hopeless, the patient is provided with mineralized Schlafstrank, and at once cheerfully relinquishes all hold upon matter.”
“But suppose the subject is insane; what is done then?”
“Ah, well, insanity is of very rare occurrence with us. The Mother takes such care of her children that they have practically no anxieties. While we are young we are educated and cared for, and when we are old we are always pensioned off, and do not need to labour unless we choose. Few of us, however, care to give up work altogether. When, unfortunately, physical influences work upon the mind in such a manner as to produce the phenomenon called insanity, the Mother at once relieves the spirit of the ties which would effectually prevent the slightest advancement, towards the great goal.”
“Kills all insane persons, in fact?”
“Yes; in mercy and justice to themselves.”
“And what is your theory as to the condition of insane people after death?”
“Well, they are more remotely removed from the state which entitles us to the bliss of living in unison with Life-giver, because the condition of the body has prevented them from acquiring the degree of perfection which can be reached by healthy persons. But it is only a question of time and degree. Insanity is a disease of the brain; the brain is essentially material; release the spirit from this gross encasement, and its chances of ultimately reaching Heaven are as great as when it first emanated from our glorious Life-giver herself.”
“I suppose crime is occasionally to be met with in New Amazonia?”
“Sometimes; but very rarely. There is very little incentive to crime here; when it does occur, we accept it as an indication of a diseased brain, and forthwith use our best efforts to cure the disease. We generally succeed in doing so; but if the case, after repeated and careful doctoring, proves incurable, of course the ordinary treatment of the hopelessly insane is adopted.”
“But do you feel no repulsion at the idea of sending a soul stained with crime to Hell?”
“Hell? There is no Hell! That is an old superstition of the Ancients at which I have often wondered.”
“After that I am prepared to hear you say that there is no devil!”
“Most certainly I do say so. I have read of the most extraordinary beliefs in witchcraft, sorcery, and the possession by evil spirits, to which all nations used to lend themselves. It was said that they were perpetually at war with all the children of Life-giver, and that the sole purpose of their existence was to prevent people from getting to Heaven. Our great God, whom we call Life-giver, created us in Her image, to be Her associates as soon as our spirits are sufficiently ennobled and purified. Life-giver is good. She has created everything. She loves the creatures She has cast in Her own image. She would not deliberately try to negative Her own work by creating evil spirits to harass us. As for anything being at deliberate war with Her, and going about the world endeavouring to foil Her plans, it is preposterous to believe it. She would at once annihilate anything so monstrous.”
“But you surely do not believe that we shall all, good and evil, be awarded the same fate after death?”
“No, I do not. Have I not already tried to explainthis to you? Our earthly career is our training school. If we take advantage of all our opportunities, and act in accordance with what we conceive to be the wishes of a Divine and Beneficent Creator, we may hope to be translated to ultimate bliss at no distant period after the death of our bodies. But if we deliberately fail to travel in the direction of steady advancement, we condemn our spirit to endure ages of banishment before it is finally sufficiently purified to partake of the happiness which is the portion of those who have pierced the veil of ignorance, and have entered the kingdom of Divine All-knowledge and Beatitude. You talk of a place called Hell! What worse punishment can be needed for erring souls than to know that to their own perversity they are indebted for being debarred from all happiness and association with purer spirits for ages untold!”
“One more question. We believe that Jesus of Nazareth was sent to save sinners. Do you reject that doctrine?”
“In one sense, yes. In another, no. We believe that from time to time our Creator has permitted individual beings to lead such pure and holy lives as to be a shining example to others, and a stimulus to exertion in the right direction. Jesus of Nazareth was one of the greatest and noblest of these men, and, as such, his name is honoured amongst us. But we do not believe that the Creator awarded incalculable suffering to one creature, in order that we might suffer less. We are sentient beings, and are expected to work out our own salvation.”
Thus far Principal Grey had been very patient with me, but as there are limits even to New Amazonian endurance, I resolved to refrain from questioning her further during this walk, and bestowed a little more attention upon surrounding objects, while at the same time carefully weighing the import of our long conversation.