SACRED TO THE MEMORYOFMAUD E——N,YOUNGEST DAUGHTER OFGEORGEE——N,OF ——WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFETHE 31ST OFDECEMBER, 1750.AGED 21 YEARS.
Then followed one or two verses from the Bible.
"Oh, Maud, Maud!" I cried, in an agony, and throwing myself on her grave, I wept bitterly.
"What says the gravestone? 'On the 31st of December,'" said I to myself. "Good heavens! That was the very evening on which I saw her spirit last in the stage box!"
I had drawn her soul away from her body for too great a length of time.Ithen was the cause of her death. Poor Maud! She was right in saying she should not live the year out, but I little thought that when her spirit hurried from my presence on that fatal night that it was then about to leave the body for ever.
I felt like a murderer. The thought that one so good, so innocent, and so talented should meet with her death through one so worthless as myself galled me. My agony was insufferable. "Oh, Maud! would that we had never met!" I cried aloud, for now, but, alas, too late, I began to feel the consuming fire of an intense love for her that in her lifetime was as yet undeveloped; added to which were the stings of remorse for my own careless, if not wicked, conduct.
I felt now that she had lovedme. Why had I not come forward before to crave her hand? Could I not see that she loved me, though she confessed it not? Fool that I was! Could I not have been happy with her and made her happy? What was it that made me draw back? I know not. There was something about her which awed me, and kept me aloof.
Then, again, was I in a position at that time tosupport a wife? Had I the right to come forward? No, I answered myself, and this thought consoled me somewhat, but had I not already allowed myself to be carried away by a passion that had engulfed both her and myself?
Love, grief, and remorse struggled in my breast for the mastery. I wept aloud, and kissed the cold gravestone fervently. I know not how long I might have been thus, for in my anguish I took no count of time, when I was suddenly aroused by a footstep behind and a voice.
"Mercy on us, who is this?" said the stranger.
I turned, and beheld my friend Merrivale. Whilst taking his morning's walk as usual he had been attracted by my lamentations, and curiosity led him to enter the cemetery.
"Why, what the—I say—what! Is thatyou?" he said, as I looked up abashed in the midst of my grief, and knew not what to reply.
"Come, come," said he. "I understand all, I saw all from the beginning. I am not surprised, you know, with one of your temperament, but do you know, young man, you might catch your death of cold, indulging your grief in the morning dew on a cold gravestone. You must be—really, my dear sir—you must be insane."
"Doctor," said I, "we may meet another time, when I may have more to say to you. For the present leave me. I arrived here early this morning, having been invited to a friend's house. It is time for me to makemy appearance. Till we meet again, farewell. And, doctor," said I, "you will keep this matter secret, eh?"
"Very well," said he, with a smile which seemed to me forced in order to disguise his emotion, for I noticed that he turned away his head suddenly, shook my hand, and walked away hurriedly.
We had both of us left the cemetery, and about half-a-mile further on led me to the door of my friend's house.
I tried to assume an air of indifference before my friend, and discoursed on various topics; nevertheless, he noticed that my hand trembled, and that I seemed distracted. I said I had been a little out of health lately, and was glad of a little change of air.
"My doctor, Mr. Merrivale," said he, "will be here to-day to look at the children. If you would like to see him——"
"Thank you, thank you; but I hope it is nothing worth mentioning."
In the afternoon Merrivale arrived, and I managed to find an opportunity of speaking with him alone. I inquired after the family E——n, and was informed that Maud had died suddenly in a trance, and he had been called too late. That her two sisters were engaged to be married. That Maud had spoken much of me before her last fit, and had given out some strange mysterious hints of a certain power I had over her, and nothing could induce her mother and sisters to believe otherwise than that I had cast an evil spell over her.
He added that her father was more reasonable, and did not believe in those things. The family would be sure to hear of my arrival in the village, therefore I resolved to call on an early opportunity. I did so, and was well received by Maud's father, he having been intimate with mine, but by the mother and sisters with rigid coldness. They did not even offer me their hand. I expected this, but nevertheless felt it my duty to call. I made some slight allusion to Maud's death in as delicate a way as I could, but was checked in the midst of my remarks by scornful glances from the mother and sisters.
I left the house, and I need hardly say that this was my last call on that family, although the master of the house wrung my hand cordially, and said he should be always glad to see me when chance led me to those parts.
I returned to my friend's house, where I tried to divert myself with a week's shooting. I frequently met my friend Merrivale. We used to take walks together sometimes. In one of our rambles I recounted to him all the particulars of the evening of the 31st of December, when I had last seen and spoken to Maud in the spirit at the theatre.
He marvelled, but was silent.
By the time the tragedian had finished his recital, our friends had arrived at the door of the inn, where their host's pretty daughter waited to receive them.
"Well, Helen, my dear," said Mr. Oldstone. "Is the breakfast ready? We have had a long story, and we are all very hungry."
"Yes, sir," answered the maiden; "everything is on the table. I'll run and fetch the eggs. I put them in to boil when I saw you coming in the distance. The toast and rolls are hot, and all in order."
"Bravo! Helen, bravo!" said Professor Cyanite, rubbing his hands.
"By my troth, Helen," said our artist, "if I wanted an appetite your bright eyes would be enough to give me one."
Helen blushed and smiled, and skipped lightly away to see after the eggs.
"Ah! here is a breakfast fit for a king," said Mr. Crucible, as Helen re-entered with a tray.
"And all made with her own fair hands, too, I'll warrant," said McGuilp.
"What makes you blush so much of late, Helen?" asked Mr. Hardcase.
"Oh, what a shame to tease the poor child," said Mr. Parnassus, with tenderness.
"Ah! Helen," sighed Dr. Bleedem, "your health and rosy cheeks are worth all my drugs."
"'I would I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek,'" quoted the tragedian from his favourite "Romeo and Juliet."
"Order, order!" cried various other members at once.
At that moment our host entered to call away his daughter, so Helen was spared further banter.
As the meal proceeded the company began to dispute who should tell the next story. Of those present who had not yet entertained the company with a tale were Mr. Crucible and Mr. Oldstone. One of the twomusttell a story, as the club decreed, but as each of these gentlemen wished to lay the burden of the story upon the shoulders of the other, nothing seemed likely to be settled.
Accordingly, after the breakfast things had been removed dice were called for, and it was agreed that whoever should throw the highest should tell the story. Our host soon returned with the dice-box, and remained to see which of the two gentlemen should throw the higher number.
Mr. Oldstone seized the dice-box, and shaking it well, threw double five. It was now Mr. Crucible's turn, so taking the dice-box from the hand of the first thrower, and rattling it twice or thrice, he threw the number twelve.
"Now then, Crucible," said Mr. Oldstone, laughing, "no shirking, but let us have the story at once."
"What! so soon after breakfast!" exclaimed Mr. Crucible, "and before we have had time to digest the last properly."
"I hope you will excuse my presence here gentlemen," said Mr. Hardcase, "for I have a case to attend to."
"Now really, Hardcase, that's too bad," ejaculated Mr. Oldstone.
At this moment a servant arrived hurriedly at the "Headless Lady," to call away Dr. Bleedem to see a patient.
"Really, gentlemen," said the doctor, "I am very sorry, but businessisbusiness."
"Business! business!" exclaimed Mr. Oldstone, in horror at such a word being uttered within the sacred precincts of the club. "Business! Ugh!"
Professor Cyanite, too, had a great scientific work which he was getting ready for the press, and begged also to be allowed to withdraw.
"Well, gentlemen," said Mr. Oldstone, "this is really very provoking. I cannot think what ails you all this morning. Since our club is reft of three such staunch members, there seems nothing else to be done but to defer the story until the evening, when there will be no excuse for anyone to be absent."
This was agreed to, and the remaining inmates of the "Headless Lady" began to while away the time each after his own manner. Our artist began a portrait of the landlord's pretty daughter. Mr. Blackdeed, who was only here for the holidays, sat to work to finish a tragedy that he had begun. Mr. Parnassus composed an ode. Mr. Crucible retired to his chamber to try some chemical experiment, and Mr. Oldstone, finding himself deserted, had nothing left him to do but to look over his cabinet of curiosities.
Let us return to our artist and his model. How happy they both are! Both of them young and good-looking, and left all to themselves. With what inspiration the hand of the painter glides over his canvas, and how the face of the pretty Helen brightens up every time the artist refreshes his memory by taking a peep at her from behind his easel. There is no affectation in the expression or the pose of the sitter, it is quite easy and natural, and beautifully simple. She does not seem conscious she is sitting for her portrait.
Every now and then, after working in silence for some twenty minutes or so, McGuilp breaks the monotony by some pleasing remark or question, to which the maiden replies charmingly. Sometimes she in her turn will ask him questions about Italy, and whether the country and the people are the same as in England.
"No, Helen," McGuilp replies; "not the same. Italy is warmer, the sky bluer, and grapes grow in the open air along the road side. The people's faces are darker and their language more musical than ours. They are all Roman Catholics; but, alas, the government is bad, and the country is infested with brigands, who attack travellers in the mountains and sometimes keep them as hostages till their friends can be sent for to pay any ransom they may choose to ask, in default of which their victims are tortured and maimed in the most inhuman manner."
"Oh, what horrid wretches! I was just going to say,before you told me that, what a paradise Italy must be to live in! But I don't think I should like to live there now."
"Well, these are drawbacks, I admit," said McGuilp, "but, nevertheless, Italy is a very charming country. Fancy a land where every peasant makes his own wine—good wine, and cheap, too. What merrymakings they have, too, on their feast days, and how picturesque their costume!"
"Ah! do tell me how they are dressed. I should so like to know."
"Would you, Helen?" said McGuilp. "Then, as the sitting is now at an end, being past twelve o'clock, I will let you look over my portfolio. You will find some studies that I have made both of men and women in the costumes of the Roman peasantry."
"Oh, do show them to me," exclaimed Helen, in delight. "I am so curious to see what they are like. Did you say it was past twelve o'clock? I began my sitting at nine, and it does not seem to me more than half-an-hour that I have been here."
And I have no doubt she spoke the truth. Happy moments are short. Alas! how rapidly time glides away in youth, and how provokingly long it appears when we have most reason to wish it should pass quickly. As Helen was engaged in admiring the studies and sketches of McGuilp our host knocked at the door to ask if his daughter could be spared, as her mother wanted her aid in the affairs of the house.
"Oh, certainly," said McGuilp; "but I must have another good sitting to-morrow."
"Very well, sir. May I be permitted to look at the portrait?" asked the landlord.
"You may look," replied our artist; "but I warn you the likeness is not striking at present."
"Gramercy, sir!" exclaimed the landlord, in ecstasy; "if it is not my girl herself already!"
"Ah! my good host, wait until I have had some half dozen sittings or so, and then look again," said McGuilp.
Our landlord then looked approvingly over our artist's portfolio, and said, "Ah, sir, it is a noble art."
Helen was delighted with her portrait, of course, and equally so with the contents of the portfolio. McGuilp complimented her upon her sitting, and Helen disappeared for the present.
At one o'clock Helen reappeared with the lunch, and those members of the club who remained at home met again over their frugal meal. They whiled away the time until the evening with politics and a rubber at whist.
At length the village clock struck the dinner hour, and all guests were present. The dinner passed off merrily, and all awaited the story anxiously. Our host and his daughter were invited to hear it, so having filled their pipes and stirred the fire, Mr. Crucible, finding himself loudly called upon, took a sip at his port and began his story.
Being left an orphan at an early age, I was consigned to the care of a bachelor uncle, one Admiral Broadside, who instructed me almost entirely himself until I reached the age of twelve. I was then sent to school, where I went through a routine of learning taught to boys at that time, and though I was backward in many things when I first entered the school, I was a persevering scholar, and soon left behind me many boys who had the start of me. I thus made enemies, and being of a retiring disposition, owing to my previous education, I made but few friends.
But let me return to my uncle. I have the liveliest recollection of the old man with his weather-beaten face, his deep-set eyes, and over-hanging black eyebrows, resembling a moustache rather than the feature we usually see in their place. Well I remember the sheen and the lustre of that rubicund nose, sprouting with grog-blossoms, the iron-grey hair, and long pig-tail; his spectacles, with glasses as big as a crown piece, his cocked hat, his uniform adorned with medals, and his hobbling gait—for he had lost his right leg in an engagement,and used as a substitute a wooden one. How well I can call to mind his nautical language and his merry laugh; but, alas, I remember too well also his angry frown, and the sundry thwackings that I got with a "cat-o'-nine-tails," when I had "offended against discipline."
From an infant he tried to instil into my young mind the glories of a sea-faring life, and what a grand thing it was to fight for the honour and glory of one's country. He told me that he had great interest in the navy, and if I turned out a worthy nephew of his, he would get me on in my career, and that he hoped I should never disgrace his name by showing the white feather and turning landlubber.
He tried to influence my youthful imagination with stories of sea-fights, the capture of pirates, the manners and customs of foreign countries, the merry crew on board, etc. He would cut out boats for me from blocks of wood, and would rig out and launch them in a fish pond in a garden behind his house.
Up to a certain period in my youth my uncle's nautical stories and his promises of pushing me on in life, if I answered his expectations, fired my ambition, and I could talk of nothing else than of going to sea.
My uncle having no children of his own, looked upon me as his son, and said that I was just the sort of boy for him. He would praise me to his friends and before my face, but his eulogium of myself lasted only during the time I lived with him—namely, beforehe sent me to school, for at school a great change came over me, and my uncle noticed with regret upon my return for the holidays the growing coolness in me towards a sea-faring life; in fact, that my tastes had begun to develop themselves in quite another direction.
Away from the influence of my guardian, I had dared to breath in a new atmosphere, and to find out that there were other walks in life quite as noble, and to me much more fascinating than that of the sea. The term "landlubber" conveyed no disparagement to my ears now. I merely saw in it the venting of the spleen of an egotistical and narrow mind. How paltry that class of men must be which speaks with disparagement of all others who do not happen to be within its own narrow circle.
I was ashamed of myself for ever having been led away by such false opinions, and had many a hot dispute with my guardian about his illiberal notions. Now, the admiral had a temper of his own; he was not a man accustomed to be thwarted. He had made up his mind that I was to go to sea, and to sea he was determined to send me, whether I willed it or no.
I was now about fourteen, and since I had been away from home I had imbibed strong notions of independence. I did not see that any man had a right to dispose of me as he thought fit. I felt myself a free agent, and my youthful blood rose at the cool way in which my uncle thought to bend me to his will. Had I not the right to seek my own walk in life? Was I to bebaulked of my true avocation because I was told that my interest lay elsewhere? Interest! Bah! I despised interest.
My uncle promised me that if I went to sea he would leave all his fortune to me, as I was his heir, and if I refused, he would not leave me a groat. What then? I had a small income left me by my father when I should come of age, which was enough to keep me like a gentleman. What did I want with the old admiral's money? I was not going to sell myself for filthy lucre.
It was whispered that the old man had amassed a considerable fortune, and I should be called a fool by the world to quarrel with him. But was my will to be bought with gold? I was grateful to him for what he had already done for me, and I never wished to quarrel with him; but when I saw that he expected as a proof of my gratitude I should humour his whim by sacrificing my highest ambition in life to follow a profession I now really cared nothing about, I felt it my duty to rebel against my guardian and choose my own course.
I felt myself born for something better than a sea-faring life. The sea might be very well for those who had a taste for it, or for those who were fit for nothing else. Besides, sailors are generally such ignorant people, and I flattered myself that I had a mind to cultivate and resolved to devote myself to study.
My hobby was science, and the branch I was chiefly anxious to excel in, chemistry. I believe the first thingthat fired my imagination to pursue this delightful science was the reading a book lent me by a friend, entitled, "Lives of the Alchemists." From this I learned how many clever men had devoted their lives and fortunes in pursuit of the philosopher's stone. I do not remember reading any of them actuallydidmake gold; but the perseverance and energy of these men! There was something sublime in a man of means giving up the wealth and luxury of his position to follow science. How I loved to read of these persevering sages, of their trials and disappointments, and how, heedless of all vicissitudes, they still pursued to the last with unflagging energy that science that they alone lived for. I had no doubt that in early times there was an immensity of superstition mingled with their science.
Nevertheless, thought I, is it possible that so many clever men should have wasted their whole lives in study and have been just upon the point of discovering the secret if there were really nothing in it at all? I inquired of a chemist in our town whether he believed in the possibility of making gold. He told me that he did not; but then a learned man with whom I once conversed said that he was of opinion that itwaspossible, but added that if the secret were discovered it would certainly be valueless.
I preferred leaning towards the opinion of the learned man who believed in the possibility of making gold out of baser metals, and resolved to give the study of mylife to the discovery of the secret without letting others know what I was striving after.
It happened that the chemist of our town whose opinion I had consulted as to the probability of success in alchemy sent his son, with whom I was rather intimate, to the same school as my guardian had put me at. He was a lad of my own years, and shared my taste for study. Having much in common, we soon struck up a warm friendship, which lasted for many years; in fact, until his death, some fifteen years back. I may assert that he was the only friend I ever had in my youth, for I was a reserved lad, and did not court friendship. He, too, was reserved, and sought no other friend but myself.
We were always in each other's company, and used to be nicknamed Castor and Pollux by the other boys. They could none of them understand why we two withdrew ourselves from the rest and refused to join in their games, and they wondered much what we found to talk about one to the other. We were both looked upon as unsociable, and accordingly disliked.
We both of us had high aspirations, and each of us felt the value of his existence, and that high honours awaited him in posterity, if not in this life, provided that he made the best use of his abilities. We might each of us have been about fifteen, when we swore an eternal friendship, and likewise to keep secret from others the nature of our studies. When I returned home from school for good—being then about seventeen—myuncle the admiral was in despair at finding me more than ever confirmed in my views of a studious life, and said I had disappointed his hopes, and that I need henceforth hope for no help from him.
A gentleman who visited my uncle, and who seemed to take an interest in me, seeing that I was a young man of some promise, advised me to go to a German university, and recommended to me the university of Jena.
He took upon himself to remonstrate with my guardian upon what he called his harsh treatment of myself, and told him that he had no right to force me against my true calling, but his words were as wind in the admiral's ears, for he was as obstinate as a mule.
"Do you mean to tell me, sir," said the admiral, "that my boy can't be made a sailor of, if he is only properly brought up?"
"Yes," said his friend; "it is precisely that point I wish to discuss. I deny that we are all born alike; and if you force this young man to go to sea you will make a bad sailor of him when he might have done honour to his country in another way."
"Boys mustn't be allowed to go just any way they like. They must learn discipline and obedience. I tell you that it is to his interest to go to sea. He is my heir, and if he conducts himself properly he may hope to be pushed on in life as long as I live, and inherit my fortune at my death. If he refuses, I shall cut him off, so he knows what to expect."
"I sincerely regret your harsh determination," said the gentleman, "for I really consider your nephew a young man of great promise. He is studiously inclined, and in every way shows that the sea is about the very last calling for which he is destined. Why should you try to waste his young life in a profession which he is unfit for?"
"Unfit for!" exclaimed the admiral. "Unfit for! In my time there was no talk of a lad's being unfit to serve his country at the bidding of those in authority over him, unless he was a cripple. Is not my nephew strong and well built enough for the sea? Why should he be unfit?"
"Not physically unfit," said his friend. "I do not doubt for a moment his physical capabilities, but if he has formed other tastes, and feels himself called in another direction, why——"
"Nonsense, sir, nonsense! about his feeling himself called in another direction. He ought to feel himself called where his interest lies, to say nothing of his duty towards those placed over him," said my uncle.
"But you wouldn't make a slave of the boy?" said his friend.
"I only wish to call him to his senses, to make him do that which is best for himself. Am I to yield to a mere boyish whim, for which he himself would be sorry later in life? And as to his having no taste for it; he was full of it whilst he lived under my roof, before he went to school. It is only since he left me that he hasgot these new-fangled notions and hoisted the white feather."
"I do not see that it is any sign of cowardice to have changed his opinions since he was under your roof. Since then his mind has become more enlarged, and he is better able to see what he is fit for than when he had received no other instruction than your own. Since then he has made acquaintances——"
"And pretty acquaintances he has made! About the only acquaintance that he has is the son of a d——d apothecary, who happens to be at the same school. Do you think I can't see from whom he has picked up his sickly notions? Should I be doing my duty to my brother's son were I to aid him in his insane hobby of turning apothecary? To allow one ofmyfamily, one of my own flesh and blood, to make pills and spread plaisters for a living, when he might be boarding the enemy's fleet and shedding his blood for the honour and glory of his country? Why damme, sir, it's not manly, I'll be hanged if it is."
"Because he may have formed some acquaintances with this apothecary, doesn't necessarily show that he intends to turn apothecary himself. He says that he wishes to devote himself to the study of chemistry. Surely there is nothing disgraceful in that! Perhaps his determination may not be quite fixed as yet. He wishes to go to the university, where he will receive the education of a gentleman, and after a few years of study he will be enabled to settle down in that walk of life which suits him best."
"In the meantime he is wasting the flower of his youth in moping study, whilst he might be earning his laurels at sea."
"Life, my dear admiral, is a playground on which numbers meet to play at a vast variety of games. You have won your laurels at sea; let the poor boy earn his in the game he most delights in. We are not all born alike."
"Bah! Laurels gained at pills and poultices. Much good may his laurels do him. If he is wise, he will forget at once his low acquaintances, awaken to his real interest, and take a cruise with me. I have no doubt that after a time I shall set him to rights again."
"And if he refuses to go?"
"Oh!—then—then—why, he may as well begin to mix drugs at once, and the sooner the better."
"You mean that you would cut him off."
"Ay, that I most decidedly should."
"Now, my dear admiral, don't you think it would be kinder, as well as the best way to save the honour of your family, to try and prevent him from following the apothecary's business by doing what you can to aid his studies, that he may choose some other gentlemanly profession besides the sea, since he seems to have taken such an aversion to it?"
"No, no; my determination is fixed. If he does my will I will help him in what way I can. If he will not, neither will I help him in anything. He knows what he has to expect, either the sea and my portion when I die, or pills, poultices, and beggary."
"I much regret your stern decision, I must say," said the gentleman, and here the conference ended.
I was well aware of the admiral's decision, and that nothing on earth could move him; and as I was equally determined not to go to sea, I informed him how I had decided.
"Well, then," he said, "from to-day you are no longer nephew of mine. Follow your own silly inclinations, but don't hope for any help from me."
I considered myself turned out of the house, so I quietly packed up my things, and without taking leave of my uncle, I called upon my uncle's friend, the gentleman who had shown so much interest in my cause and explained how I was situated. I told him that I had money left me by my father, which I could not touch until I came of age. In the meantime I might die of want, as my uncle had refused positively to call me his nephew any longer. Therefore I begged him to be kind enough to lend me a sufficient sum to complete my studies at a foreign university, and I would repay him when it lay in my power.
My uncle's friend was a man of means and of a generous disposition, and not likely to see me go down thoroughly in the world, granted my request. I left my native town without letting my uncle know, and departed for Germany. I found my way to the university of Jena, where I entered and commenced my studies.
My first step was to perfect myself in the Germanlanguage, to accomplish which I took lessons, visited the theatre, and went into society. The romance that seemed to attach itself to the life of a German student had long inflamed my youthful fancy, and I entered a "chor," or company of students, who distinguish themselves from others by their own especial "tricolor," which they wear in a ribbon across their chests and round their caps, and from ordinary mortals by their otherwise fantastic way of dressing themselves.
The novelty of this life, rather than the life itself, charmed me; for though I was delighted with the freedom and goodfellowship amongst these young men, I was not a youth naturally given to excess, and I soon found that a little of this sort of life went a long way.
Nevertheless, at the beginning my fondness for the study of human nature in all its phases induced me to take part in all the manners and customs of my companions. I joined them at their "kneipe," drank and sang with them, smoked with them, fought with them. I never refused a challenge, and sometimes even provoked a duel. I was never behind hand in any midnight brawl. I wore high boots and enormous spurs; gambled, betted, serenaded, played practical jokes, and soon got the reputation of a "flotter bursch" or rowdy fellow.
As every German student has his "Liebchen," I, too, had mine. A fair Teutonic damsel of good family deigned to smile on me, and there was much talk at one time in the little town of Jena about Fräulein vonHammelstengel and the handsome Englishman being "verlobt."
People will talk at all times, and when news is wanting—what so easy as to invent? All the inhabitants of the town of Jena thought that they had a right to know and to talk of my private affairs, and seeing that I was of a reserved disposition and that they were not likely to extract much from me by pumping, it began to be rumoured abroad that I had certain grave reasons for maintaining secrecy, and in a very short time it was reported that I was a great "my lord," travelling in disguise for political purposes, and that I possessed a fortune of countless millions of pounds sterling.
This interesting discovery soon reached the ears of the parents of the already-mentioned young lady, who, by the way, had other admirers besides myself, and I could not without vanity at that time fairly consider myself the favoured one. Nevertheless, from the time the report of my fabulous riches spread throughout the whole university town I suddenly found Fräulein von Hammelstengel thrust in my way in the most obtrusive manner.
If I went to the theatre she was sure to be blocking up the doorway as I entered. If I was invited to a party, she was sure to be there. If I went to a public beer garden, there she was again; in the streets, in church—everywhere.
At the time I speak of I had but little experience ofthe world, but that little sufficed for me to see the trap that was laid for me. I was amused at the farce played before me, but disgusted with the actors, and resolved to withdraw myself.
Now, Miss von H. was a very fair specimen of the German upper classes. Besides being pretty, she could cook, knit stockings, do every sort of household work, had a very nice voice, and was a very excellent performer on the pianoforte. She was amiable, and possessed all the qualities of a good housewife. I may even confess that she was not quite indifferent to me at this time, but when I saw that her parents were making a bait of her to catch me, I was awed at the hook, and meditated escape.
I therefore prepared to undeceive the family as to the state of my finances, giving out that I was only a poor student who, unable to make both ends meet in my own country, had retired to the continent to live cheaper. This I confided to the young lady herself, and it was evidently soon after repeated to the parents, for a marked change in their behaviour soon manifested itself towards me, which was not only what I expected, but what I wished for. However, after a time it was reported in the town that I could not be as poor as I pretended to be, as it was remarked that I always paid my bills—a somewhat rare occurrence among German students—that I was always well dressed, lived well, had given wine parties, and had books expensively bound.
Now, when the von Hammelstengels heard this lastreport, they began again to believe in all that they had been told of me at first, and rather than let their prey escape so easily, they resolved to make another effort, and commenced to weave their meshes around me again.
In vain I repeated that I was only a poor student, and could not hope to marry. I saw that I was not believed, and was persecuted more than ever with attentions. Mrs. von Hammelstengel grew so amiable, that I was quite alarmed. Her husband so cordial and obsequious, that I grew disgusted. The "fräulein" herself so languishing and sentimental that I saw that there was nothing open for me but flight, so informing them all that important family affairs had called me suddenly back to England, I bade them a hasty farewell, and shut myself up in my own lodging for a time.
Now, this stratagem was discovered by the brother of Miss von Hammelstengel, an officer in the army. He met me about two months after I had taken leave of the family, and having ascertained that I had been in Jena all the time, and had never mentioned to anyone else my intention of returning to my country, he came to the conclusion that my retirement was nothing but a "ruse" to free myself from the clutches of his family.
He could not let me slip without playing his last card, which was to frighten me into marriage if possible. With this object he managed to pick a quarrel with me, asking me if I thought it was behaving like a gentleman to excite hopes in the breast of a young and innocent girl, and then absconding, saying that he could not seehis sister pining away day by day without taking her cause in hand, etc.
There was nothing left me, he said, but to marry his sister or to fight him. My decision was soon made. I told him that I would never be forced into marriage through fear of a wound, and I resolved to fight him.
An officer in the army is the only grade of man that a German student deigns to fight with. All others are beneath his notice. Now, as my adversary was an officer, it was considered no degradation on my part to accept the challenge, so weapons were provided, compliments exchanged between seconds, and the adversaries met.
The offence towards his family was seen in such a grave light by my foe, that instead of the ordinary method adopted by German students—the use of the customary leaden collar, and pads to protect the more vital parts—nothing would satisfy him but a duel with the sabre, without pads and bandages.
This is the most terrible challenge, save that with the pistol, but I did not shrink from it. I left a letter directed to the gentleman in England who had lent me the money to pursue my studies at the university in the hands of my second, to be posted in case of my death, and hastened to meet my adversary. The fight was short, though desperate. My adversary fell severely wounded in the arm. Parties tried to hush up the matter, but of course the town was soon full of it. Thestory of the duel was variously told. Some said that I had vanquished the captain, and others that he had vanquished me; but the truth soon oozed out.
Fräulein von Hammelstengel subsequently married an old count, who was supposed to be rich, but who proved afterwards not to possess a penny.
But to return to myself. Disgusted with my experience of human nature, and of womankind in particular, I set to work now more diligently than ever. Bade farewell to my "chor," and gave up rioting and revelling, and wrote to my school friend the chemist's son to come and join me in my studies. I also wrote a letter to the gentleman who had kindly furnished me with funds to continue my studies abroad, and in due time I received the following letter:—
"My Dear Charles.—I am delighted to hear that you have at length settled down again to earnest study. I hope you will not get into any more scrapes, or another time you may not get off scot-free. Duelling is a very wicked and a very silly practice, and does no credit to either party; therefore I hope you will never seek a quarrel, but do all you can to steer clear of pugnacious persons. You have now been more than a year at the university, and you write so seldom that you leave me in the dark as to what progress you have made during your stay. I wish you would write oftener, as I am very much interested to know how you are getting on. Now for a bit of home news. Your uncle the admiral, shortly after your departure, took to himself a young and pretty wife.I am afraid, however, instead of the happy home he contemplated, he sees too late that he has done a foolish thing. She is a desperate flirt, and rumours of such a nature are afloat in the town, that I should not be surprised if before long he sues for a divorce. He has never been the same man since you left, and looks considerably older. The disappointment that he felt at your determination to go your own way instead of his has been indeed a great blow to him. I constantly remonstrated with him on his views of your conduct towards him, but you know how obstinate he is. He grumbles that you left his house in a huff without even taking leave of him, but he has never had the curiosity to ask what has become of you, and hasn't an idea that I know of your whereabouts.
"I called at your friend's the chemist's yesterday. His son told me that you had written to him advising him to join you in Jena. He would be delighted to go, and I do not think his father is averse to sending him. He is a superior lad, and I am not prejudiced enough to advise you to cut his acquaintance on the mere ground of his having been born in a humbler sphere of life than yourself. The admiral may have his prejudices, and to a certain extent I agree with him; that is to say that one ought rather to seek acquaintances within his own class than out of it. Still, when we meet a man of superior mind in a class a little below our own, I see no reason why we should draw the line of society too tightly. I must now leave off, and hopingthat you will take care of your health, as well as improve in your studies,—I remain, yours very truly,
"Edward Langton."
Here was news indeed! My old bachelor uncle—he who when he was merry used to laugh at the foibles of the fair sex and ridicule married men—had himself been betrayed into marrying one of those frail beings he professed to despise. All the experience of his long life had vanished like smoke before the sunshine of his charmer. He had been dazzled with her eyes, and had taken a step in the dark, and found himself, too late, in the quagmire of remorse.
Poor old fool! I sincerely pitied him. "This comes," said I to myself, "of turning nephews out of doors. Had you, instead of trying to bend the iron resolve of your nephew to your own poor old obstinate will, assisted him in his very laudable determination to follow science, you might yet have lived and died a bachelor to your heart's content. But console yourself, my uncle, St. Anthony was tempted by a fair demon before you. Now you have learned a lesson, although it has come somewhat late in life."
Although I deeply sympathised with my guardian's mistake, I could not do otherwise than feel that he fully deserved this punishment for his treatment of myself. How absurd and arrogant of a man, to persist in bending another to his own selfish will! Are we free agents, or are we not?
But enough of this. My uncle had sinned, and hewas punished. He had imagined his charmer an angel, and found after all that she was but mortal like the rest of her sex, a poor, weak woman. He could hardly ever have been besotted enough to fancy that she had married him for anything else than his money, but what will not a man do to obtain the idol of his affections?
Perhaps it was not mere blind passion that had induced him to thrust his neck under the yoke. It might only have been pique. He would show his nephew that he could live very happily without his companionship, and this was the way he showed it.
I mentally drew a portrait of my aunt. A dashing, reckless girl, determined to have her own way in everything, running up dressmakers' bills, driving about in her carriage to spend her days in visiting and frivolity. Ambitious of pleasing every man but her husband. Dragging her poor old wooden-legged spouse after her to balls, operas, and concerts, or else leaving him at home, perhaps poorly, whilst she was enjoying herself in some crowded assembly, surrounded by a troop of young gallants, encouraging their attentions and making game of the poor old fool she had cajoled into marrying her. I imagined her pretty, witty, vivacious and with a temper. A thorough incapacity for the management of a household, vain, extravagant, frivolous, heartless, calculating.
Such was the mental picture I had drawn of my young aunt. How I could imagine her of an evening—if she ever stayed at home with her husband in theevening—yawning over the admiral's long nautical stories, sighing and pouting when he asked her to bring him his slippers, or rather his slipper, for he had but one. Turning up her nose as she mixed his grog for him or lighted his pipe. Shuddering when the old man caressingly touched her dimpled chin, and pleading fatigue that she might go to bed early to be alone and dream of some handsome young lieutenant she had met at Mrs. So-and-So's ball.
"Well, well," said I to myself, "I will not triumph too long over your fall, uncle, lest some day the like may happen to myself, which Heaven forfend."
I tried to imagine myself with a wife like my aunt. I, a scholar, a searcher after the philosopher's stone, with a gay young wife always out at parties, a family of neglected children at home, breaking in upon my studies and smashing my crucibles and retorts, tearing up my valuable MSS, turning my laboratory into a nursery, and profaning my hours of study with their crying and squabbling.
"No," said I, "it shall not be. I will live single. A scientific man is wedded to science."
After the letter I had received from my friend Langton, the opinion I had formed of womankind was somewhat of the lowest. I imagined that all women were alike, and the dread I felt lest I should fall into a trap myself, induced me to shut myself up more than ever. I built a laboratory and fitted it up. I pored over my books, fasted, slept little, and sought as muchas possible to reduce matter into mind. I resolved to give myself wholly up to the study of the transmutation of metals, nothing doubting that some day if I persisted in my labours I should be rewarded by the discovery of the philosopher's stone. I paid no visits, neither received any. I had seen enough of dissipation, and was now resolved to make up for lost time. A sudden change had come over me. I was no longer the "flotter bursch" that the year before swaggered, booted and spurred through the streets of Jena, foremost in the midnight revel, dauntless at the duel, guilty of every species of extravagance and excess. I had become the haggard and emaciated student of the dark arts, nervous in the extreme, shunning company, and the nature of whose studies was a mystery to all. Slovenly and smoke begrimed, daily and nightly I poured over my crucibles, trying all sorts of experiments and suffering many disappointments, denying myself the common necessaries of life, that I might expend my small income in instruments and articles wherewith to pursue my science. Absorbed in that one pursuit, I quite forgot the world without, forgot that I was of the same clay as my fellow mortals, lost all sympathy for the rest of my kind, neither sought any from them. My whole mental energies were concentrated on that one topic—that of making gold. Nor was it avarice that induced me to make gold the object of my pursuit. Nothing, I assure you, but the pure love of science prompted me in my studies. I had already made several curious discoveries.I was on the eve, or thought I was, of discovering the great secret, when owing to excessive fasting and want of sleep, my health broke down. Being originally of an iron constitution, I deemed in the pride of my youth that I was proof against any fatigue of mind or body until actual experience taught me that there were bounds even to my powers of endurance.
As I had not for a very considerable time to set foot beyond the narrow walls of my cell, and my mental faculties were thoroughly engrossed with study, my system required but slight stimulant. A cup of milk and a roll in the morning and a leek in the evening was all I required to keep soul and body together. Nay, latterly I confined myself to a slice of bread and a glass of water, and this lasted me all day for more than a fortnight. This scanty food was brought me by an orphan boy, who was deaf and dumb, whom I had engaged as my servant, as being better able to keep silence as to the nature of my studies.
Each day I fancied brought me nearer and nearer towards the discovery of the grand secret, when Nature, long trampled upon, rebelled, and positively refused to hold out any longer. My form was reduced to that of a skeleton, objects swam before my eyes, my brain reeled, and I repeatedly fainted for want of nourishment. My hand trembled, my mind lost its energy, and I was no longer fit for study. I found that I had overtaxed my strength, and saw the necessity of taking more food.
One morning when I felt so debilitated that I reallythought my last hour was come, I ordered my servant to make me some broth. He had scarcely left my laboratory to obey my orders when a peculiar sensation came over me. I am as certain as I am of my own existence at the present moment that I was then in a waking state, though what I am about to relate to you now may appear to some like a dream. I felt—if I may so describe my feelings—that I did not belong to myself, or, as if my spirit were entirely free and independent of my body. It was a feeling as of a bounding elasticity, as if neither the walls of my cell nor any other material objects were impediments to me, and that I was capable at will of soaring into realms of space, and of conversing with intelligences of an immeasurably higher order than those of our mundane sphere, and of perfectly understanding discourses that in the body I was perfectly sure would be beyond my comprehension.
I remember that on this very morning I was seated in a high-backed arm-chair of carved oak, in a reflective mood. My crucibles and retorts strewed the laboratory in the greatest disorder. I was too weak to study or even to rise from my chair, when suddenly upon raising my eyes towards the opposite wall of my laboratory, the scene seemed changed, and instead of the bare wall before me I saw the mouth of a large cave, through the innumerable arches of which I could see to a great distance, for the interior seemed lighted up as with fire.
Now, I know that I was perfectly unable to rise frommy chair, yet it appeared to me that I rose, and with firm step entered the cave.
It was dark and very chilly. I gazed around me for a moment and shuddered when I discovered at my side, my eyes being now accustomed to the light, the form of an old man, bald-headed, and with snowy locks and beard. His brow was high and his eye clear and beaming with wisdom and benevolence. His form was upright and his step firm, and he wore a tunic with ample folds and of a sad colour.
At first I started and looked at him wonderingly, as if to ask him who he was. He answered to my thoughts affably. "I am your guide. You have courted our intimacy, and sought to become our equal. Come with me, and I will initiate you into our mysteries and show you the lot for which you have so long been striving."
There was something so inviting in the old man's manner, something so charming in the calm and dignified look that superior intellect invariably gives, that I could not but comply, and following my guide, I was conducted through long labyrinths of arches in silence, until I reached the centre of the cavern, when I found myself in a vast hall formed by nature, or roughly hewn out of the natural rock, and illuminated by torches.
Here I saw a number of tables, and at each table sat one man. They appeared to be all engaged in chemistry, for each man had before him his crucibles and other instruments. So absorbed did they all seem in their work that not one of them noticed our entrance,although we were talking loud enough for all to hear and our voices re-echoed through the cavern.
I tried to catch the eye of some of them in order to salute them, and perhaps to enter into conversation with them, but no one looked up.
I felt somewhat chilled at this reception, as it seemed to me that they must have heard us, and purposely avoided looking up. My guide, who could read all that was passing in my mind, responded to my thoughts.
"Be not grieved at their apparent want of civility, for they do not even see you. These spirits see nothing and hear nothing but what is immediately before them and connected with their pursuits. All you see here are alchemists. In your terrestrial globe their sole delight was in the endeavour to make gold. To this end they voluntarily imprisoned their spirits in one channel in order to concentrate the force of their intellects towards the object of their pursuit.
"The development of their intellects alone at the expense of everything else that is human, was their desire in the world; their intellects alone, therefore, after death remain engrossed in their one pursuit to all eternity, and they are both deaf and blind to all else."
"And will this be my lot?" I asked of my guide.
"That depends upon yourself," was the reply. "Your spirit is not so entirely separated from your body as to make your doom irrevocable. In whatever state you quit the world of the body, in that state the spiritremains to eternity. If the state of these spirits pleases you not, there is time to set your affections on another.
"Anon I will show you another class of alchemists. These that you have seen are spirits who strive to make gold from love of science. Those I will show you now are those who have the love of gold for their aim, to which they make science subservient."
My guide then conducted me through a long dark corridor of arches until we reached another hall lighted up in a similar manner to the first. Here were a number of spirits, each likewise occupied with his own crucibles and apparatus, and paying no attention to those around him. The hall and the instruments used by the spirits of this second hall differed little from those of hall the first, but the faces of the men were different.
In the second hall the faces were less dignified and the skulls were broader, each of them having a preternatural protuberance like an egg at the temples, whilst the crown of their heads was flat. The heads of those of the first hall were higher, and their bearing more philosophic.
"I do not like the faces of those men," said I to my guide. "I dislike the expression of greed depicted on their countenances. Remove me from hence."
"I will now show you another order of spirits, also alchemists in their way, since gold is their pursuit," and here he led me down a dark subterranean staircase, damp and cold, which I descended with difficulty on account of the slipperiness of the steps.
"This is no place for you," said my guide, "as I observe by your cautious footsteps, yet many are they whose haste to enter at yon door makes them rush down head foremost, regardless of the slime, and at the risk of breaking their necks."
By this time the hand of my guide was on the door, which he entered, leading me after him. I immediately found myself within a large and elegant hall, lighted up with the light of day, with columns and pavement of marble. Here was a crowd of men divided into groups, and discussing business. Others hurrying and bustling, jostling each other in their haste, as they traversed the hall. The physiognomy of these men was decidedly material. Sharp and shrewd many of them, but for the most part of that cold, stolid, matter of fact sort that defies you to read beyond the surface.
As business and business men had little charm for me, my scrutiny of the spirits in this hall was less minute than my observation of the spirits in the two previous halls, and my guide, observing an expression of weariness in my countenance, said:
"I see these spirits interest you not. These are merchants, and men of business, who have made the acquisition of gold their chief delight in the world, without using it merely as a means to an end; but let us pass on."
We then entered a hall adjoining. Here was to be seen a long table, at which numbers were gambling. The faces of some of these were truly hideous; othersmerely simple. It was easy with half an eye to discern the dupe and the sharper. Faces indicative of the most sordid avarice jostled others of trusting simplicity. I saw to what class these spirits belonged, and, sickened at the sight, my guide led me by the hand and withdrew me from the hall.
On leaving the gamblers we next found ourselves in a beautiful garden with terraces, fountains, beds of the choicest flowers, with a sunny landscape beyond. In the centre of a velvet lawn was a motley group of dancers, singers, and players on musical instruments. The dancers were of both sexes, and many of them fair to view. They seemed to whirl round in the giddy dance with true delight.
"These, at least," I said, "are happy. How they seem to enjoy themselves! Who would not be happy in the midst of such a beautiful scene?"
"These, my friend, are but deceptive joys," replied the sage, with a sigh. "These, you see, are those who in the world have made pleasure the sole aim and object of their lives, and who, on entering the world of spirits, still retain their former tastes."
I watched the group of dancers for a time; at first with pleasure, then with indifference, and lastly with a feeling akin to disgust mingled with pity. Dancing and merry-making is all very well as an interlude to hard work, and doubtless did good both to mind and body, but when I reflected that this trivial amusement had been the sole occupation of their lives in the world,and would continue to be so to all eternity, I turned away with a sigh. The whole scene seemed to me less beautiful than before, though I could not observe that any change had taken place in the landscape, and an intense feeling of weariness came over me, with an inclination to yawn, which my guide observing, said:
"So you have soon become disenchanted with your realms of delight."
"You are right," said I; "lead me from the scene." Turning my back on the dancers, I followed the old man, who led me over hill, down dale, through thicket and bramble, discoursing all the while the states of various classes of spirits after death, till we reached a thick forest of old gnarled trees. Flanking the forest ran a river of molten gold. I stood upon the edge of a rock and looked down upon the river. Here I descried a number of naked forms of both sexes bathing in the stream and splashing each other with the liquid metal.
"Who are these?" I asked.
"These," said my guide, "are those who in the world found gold without seeking it, and possessing it in abundance, knew not how to make use of it. Their sole delight was in wasting it. The same passion remains with them after death."
I fell into a reverie.
"Is it possible," thought I, "that these people have nothing at all to do with their money? Could they be in ignorance of the poverty that surrounded them whilst in the world? Even if they were selfish and did nogood to the rest of their kind, is it possible that they had no private way of enjoying their worldly goods?"
"The spirits here in the world wasted their fortunes, but the ruin of one fortune is the foundation of others, as you will see anon," said the sage.
He then pointed out to me some men, miserable looking and wretchedly clad, who were crawling on their hands and knees in search of nuggets of gold that the wanton bathers had thrown in a liquid state on to the shore, where it had cooled. Each of these wretched men had a bag which he filled with lumps of the yellow metal, and when it was full, carried it on his shoulders, tottering under its weight, till he reached his home.
"Neither do these men know the use of gold," said my guide, "for they are misers, and their sole delight is to collect gold and to worship it, without doing good to themselves or others."
My curiosity was roused at this strange sight, and I followed these men with my eyes, as a wide plain stretched itself out, and I being on elevated ground, could see to a great distance, for I wished to see how far they could stagger under their enormous weight. No dwellings appeared near at hand, and yet I was surprised to notice that one after the other these men suddenly disappeared. Many of them had started about the same time laden with their sacks of gold, and not one of the many was visible to me now on that broad open plain. Where could they have all gone?
"I will tell you," said my companion, answering asusual to my thoughts. "These spirits, fearing lest their houses should be broken into and pillaged, burrow under the ground, where they can keep their riches in security. They seldom show themselves in the daytime, but come out of their holes at night like the owl in search of plunder. In the world they lived by stealing, cheating, and getting money under false pretences, and this is their lot after death. Their subterranean dwellings are paved and lined with gold, yet they are always wretched, for they know no other delight than to amass gold for its own sake."
I grew melancholy as I reflected on the lot of these men.
"At least my lot will not be with them," I said to myself. "I hope it cannot be said of me that I worship gold. If I have made the converting of other metals into gold the study of my life, it was not for the sake of the yellow metal, but from the pure love of science like those philosophers of the first halls."
"True," said my friend, in reply to my meditations, "and yet methinks their lot pleased you but little. The study of science for the sake of science and without other object, is little better than the grubbing of gold for the sake of gold. Think you not that a man's life ought to have a little higher aim?"
"Certainly," said I, "that our studies may be useful to others, that our discoveries may benefit mankind to the end, that we may become more civilised, more intellectual, more virtuous, more moral."
"If then," replied the sage, "you admit this to be the true end of the life of man, why do you persist in following the one study of converting baser metals into gold, which, if the secret is once made known, could not be of the slightest service to mankind at large, whilst you would only reap the selfish and vain satisfaction of having discovered the secret, whereas the precious time that has been wasted in this useless study would have been better employed in experiments that might tend to discoveries beneficial to the whole human race."
The argument of my venerable guide made a deep impression on me, and I reflected a moment.
"Is it possible," thought I, "that all my life has been a mistake. Have I mistaken mere vain and selfish ambition for that pure love of science that dignifies and elevates the human mind? No," I answered to myself, "not exactly; and yet I have been mistaken in studying alchemy; for surely we ought to consider the end of whatever study we pursue, which end ought to be in some way or other useful to mankind at large. Now, supposing, after having wasted the energies of a lifetime in pursuit of the philosopher's stone, I had at length discovered the secret, it could only benefit myself, and my aim after all was no higher than that of those wretched spirits whose lot I shrank from. You are right, O sage. I will no longer waste my time and health in a fruitless study, but henceforth devote myself to something that may benefit my fellow creatures."
"You are fast growing wise," said the sage, replyingto my thoughts; "keep to that resolution, and the comfort you will experience from the consciousness that you have devoted your life to the welfare of your race will be the true alchemy, for it will be spiritual gold."
My heart yearned towards the kind old man at these words, and in an ecstasy of affection and reverence as well as joy at having discovered the error of my life, I embraced him, begged him never to leave me, but be ever with me—to guide me in wisdom; to be, in fact, a father to me, and I would follow his counsel as a son.
The kindly sage smiled benevolently on me, and replied:
"My son, our lots are different; at least, for the present. Recollect that you are yet in the body, whilst I have for many ages back been all spirit. We must shortly part; you will return to the body until you are called from thence, whilst I must hasten to the society of spirits to which I belong. Till then, however, I will be your guide, and give you what instruction I may in spiritual things."
I thanked him, and expressed my regret at having to part from him so soon, and hoped we should meet again when our conditions became the same. I then begged him as my time was short, to show me the lot of spirits of a higher order, saying:
"You have shown me those who have sought gold from the love of science and those who have sought it from greed. Also those who, having gold, knew nothow to use it. Now show me the lot of those who, born wealthy, have made the best use of their wealth."
"My son," said the sage, "those spirits are few in number and belong to a higher sphere. One direct from earth as yourself enters with difficulty within that holy region. However, follow me."
Then there appeared to rise from the ground a sort of mist, which thickened until it became a small but dense cloud. Upon this my guide alighted, leading me after him. We both of us trod the cloud beneath our feet, upon which we made no more impression than if our bodies had been made of the same ephemeral substance as the vapour we trod. The cloud then commenced to rise, and slowly wafted us high in air, carrying us over trees and mountains as we discoursed together by the way. Moving upwards, yet not straight and suddenly, but describing wide circles in the air, as if we were ascending a winding staircase, we found ourselves, after a time, in the midst of a large dense cloud, and our motion ceased.
By degrees the mist seemed to clear away, and I beheld a curious phenomenon. I stood firmly, as if upon the solid earth, yet when I looked above me the earth appeared over my head, whilst the sky seemed under my feet.
"What is the reason," I asked, "that in this planet or aerial dwelling of spirits, the laws of nature are reversed?"
"Your vision only is reversed," replied my guide,"because not being as yet entirely freed from the body, your spirit savours too much of clay to be in harmony with the spirits of this sphere. Everything in the spiritual world is a type, and has a hidden meaning. As the sky is a type of heaven, so the earth we tread is a type of material things. The reason you see the earth above your head and the sky beneath your feet, is that you as yet place material things above spiritual things. It is difficult for you, as a mortal, to do otherwise, and therefore your vision is distorted. I can, however, while I am with you, communicate a portion of my being to you, sufficient for you to see objects as they really are."
He then touched my forehead, grasping my temples between his finger and thumb, when a new sensation came over me. It seemed as if I had been suddenly lifted with the rapidity of lightning a mile or two higher in the air, although my guide assured me that I had never moved from the spot I was standing on. I appeared to breathe more freely, and experienced a most exhilarating feeling of buoyancy, with an intense and boundless expansion of mind.
The sky was now above my head and the earth beneath my feet, as in our world. I found myself surrounded by a beautiful landscape that would baffle all my descriptive powers to give any adequate idea of. Trees, beautiful and curious, bearing fruit of gold, silver, or precious stones, and of ferns that I had never seen in the world. Hills and valleys of rich luxuriance,crags, waterfalls, lakes with islands, magnificent palaces of the purest white marble in a style of architecture truly sublime. Human forms, surpassingly beautiful, of both sexes and of all ages crossed me at intervals, from blooming and laughing infancy to hoary but hale old age, each stage of life bearing a marked beauty of its own. Everyone seemed happy, and no one idle, although the occupations of some were of a quiet, meditative sort.
Philosophers discussed theories among themselves or taught wisdom to the young, who listened attentively. Children romped or indulged in amusements suitable to their age. Lovers passed and repassed, discussing together in earnest whisper. Here and there a solitary poet composed an ode or landscape painter plied his art. The more I gazed on the scene, the more I became enraptured, for all was sunshine and content.
"How different," thought I, "is this to those false delusive joys that I have just witnessed in the lower world of spirits, and which I, in my besotted ignorance, mistook for a paradise!"