{"collection":"ritual-magic","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37775/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37775","id":"gutenberg_37775","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37775","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Novels","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Earth (Planet) -- Internal structure -- Fiction","Fantasy fiction","Occultism -- Fiction","Science fiction"],"text":"Produced by Pat McCoy, Suzanne Shell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nETIDORHPA\n\nOR\n\nTHE END OF EARTH.\n\n\nTHE STRANGE HISTORY OF A MYSTERIOUS BEING\n\nAND\n\nThe Account of a Remarkable Journey\n\n\n\n\nAS COMMUNICATED IN MANUSCRIPT TO\n\nLLEWELLYN DRURY\n\nWHO PROMISED TO PRINT THE SAME, BUT FINALLY EVADED THE RESPONSIBILITY\n\n\nWHICH WAS ASSUMED BY\n\nJOHN URI LLOYD\n\n\n\n\nWITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS BY\n\nJ. AUGUSTUS KNAPP\n\n\nSIXTH EDITION\n\n\nCINCINNATI\n\nTHE ROBERT CLARKE COMPANY\n\n1896\n\n\n\n\nASCRIPTION.\n\nTo Prof. W. H. Venable, who reviewed the manuscript of this work, I am\nindebted for many valuable suggestions, and I can not speak too kindly\nof him as a critic.\n\nThe illustrations, excepting those mechanical and historical, making in\nthemselves a beautiful narrative without words, are due to the admirable\nartistic conceptions and touch of Mr. J. Augustus Knapp.\n\nStructural imperfections as well as word selections and phrases that\nbreak all rules in composition, and that the care even of Prof. Venable\ncould not eradicate, I accept as wholly my own. For much, on the one\nhand, that it may seem should have been excluded, and on the other, for\ngiving place to ideas nearer to empiricism than to science, I am also\nresponsible. For vexing my friends with problems that seemingly do not\nconcern in the least men in my position, and for venturing to think,\nsuperficially, it may be, outside the restricted lines of a science\nbound to the unresponsive crucible and retort, to which my life has been\ngiven, and amid the problems of which it has nearly worn itself away, I\nhave no plausible excuse, and shall seek none.\n\n JOHN URI LLOYD\n\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1895, BY JOHN URI LLOYD.\nCOPYRIGHT, 1896, BY JOHN URI LLOYD.\n\n[_All rights reserved._]\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBooks are as tombstones made by the living for the living, but destined\nsoon only to remind us of the dead. The preface, like an epitaph, seems\nvainly to \"implore the passing tribute\" of a moment's interest. No man\nis allured by either a grave-inscription or a preface, unless it be\naccompanied by that ineffable charm which age casts over mortal\nproductions. Libraries, in one sense, represent cemeteries, and the rows\nof silent volumes, with their dim titles, suggest burial tablets, many\nof which, alas! mark only cenotaphs--empty tombs. A modern book, no\nmatter how talented the author, carries with it a familiar personality\nwhich may often be treated with neglect or even contempt, but a volume a\ncentury old demands some reverence; a vellum-bound or hog-skin print, or\nantique yellow parchment, two, three, five hundred years old, regardless\nof its contents, impresses one with an indescribable feeling akin to awe\nand veneration,--as does the wheat from an Egyptian tomb, even though it\nbe only wheat. We take such a work from the shelf carefully, and replace\nit gently. While the productions of modern writers are handled\nfamiliarly, as men living jostle men yet alive; those of authors long\ndead are touched as tho' clutched by a hand from the unseen world; the\nreader feels that a phantom form opposes his own, and that spectral eyes\nscan the pages as he turns them.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE STERN FACE, ... ACROSS THE GULF.\"]\n\nThe stern face, the penetrating eye of the personage whose likeness\nforms the frontispiece of the yellowed volume in my hand, speak across\nthe gulf of two centuries, and bid me beware. The title page is read\nwith reverence, and the great tome is replaced with care, for an almost\nsuperstitious sensation bids me be cautious and not offend. Let those\nwho presume to criticise the intellectual productions of such men be\ncareful; in a few days the dead will face their censors--dead.\n\nStanding in a library of antiquated works, one senses the shadows of a\ncemetery. Each volume adds to the oppression, each old tome casts the\ninfluence of its spirit over the beholder, for have not these old books\nspirits? The earth-grave covers the mind as well as the body of its\nmoldering occupant, and while only a strong imagination can assume that\na spirit hovers over and lingers around inanimate clay, here each title\nis a voice that speaks as though the heart of its creator still\nthrobbed, the mind essence of the dead writer envelops the living\nreader. Take down that vellum-bound volume,--it was written in one of\nthe centuries long past. The pleasant face of its creator, as fresh as\nif but a print of yesterday, smiles upon you from the exquisitely\nengraved copper-plate frontispiece; the mind of the author rises from\nout the words before you. This man is not dead and his comrades live.\nTurn to the shelves about, before each book stands a guardian\nspirit,--together they form a phantom army that, invisible to mortals,\nencircles the beholder.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE PLEASANT FACE OF ITS CREATOR ... SMILES UPON YOU.\"]\n\nAh! this antique library is not as is a church graveyard, only a\ncemetery for the dead; it is also a mansion for the living. These\nalcoves are trysting places for elemental shades. Essences of\ndisenthralled minds meet here and revel. Thoughts of the past take shape\nand live in this atmosphere,--who can say that pulsations unperceived,\nbeyond the reach of physics or of chemistry, are not as ethereal\nmind-seeds which, although unseen, yet, in living brain, exposed to such\nan atmosphere as this, formulate embryotic thought-expressions destined\nto become energetic intellectual forces? I sit in such a weird library\nand meditate. The shades of grim authors whisper in my ear, skeleton\nforms oppose my own, and phantoms possess the gloomy alcoves of the\nlibrary I am building.\n\n[Illustration: \"SKELETON FORMS OPPOSE MY OWN.\"]\n\nWith the object of carrying to the future a section of thought current\nfrom the past, the antiquarian libraries of many nations have been\nculled, and purchases made in every book market of the world. These\nbooks surround me. Naturally many persons have become interested in the\nmovement, and, considering it a worthy one, unite to further the\nproject, for the purpose is not personal gain. Thus it is not unusual\nfor boxes of old chemical or pharmacal volumes to arrive by freight or\nexpress, without a word as to the donor. The mail brings manuscripts\nunprinted, and pamphlets recondite, with no word of introduction. They\ncome unheralded. The authors or the senders realize that in this unique\nlibrary a place is vacant if any work on connected subjects is missing,\nand thinking men of the world are uniting their contributions to fill\nsuch vacancies.\n\n * * * * *\n\nEnough has been said concerning the ancient library that has bred these\nreflections, and my own personality does not concern the reader. He can\nnow formulate his conclusions as well perhaps as I, regarding the origin\nof the manuscript that is to follow, if he concerns himself at all over\nsubjects mysterious or historical, and my connection therewith is of\nminor importance. Whether Mr. Drury brought the strange paper in person,\nor sent it by express or mail,--whether it was slipped into a box of\nbooks from foreign lands, or whether my hand held the pen that made the\nrecord,--whether I stood face to face with Mr. Drury in the shadows of\nthis room, or have but a fanciful conception of his figure,--whether the\nartist drew upon his imagination for the vivid likeness of the several\npersonages figured in the book that follows, or from reliable data has\ngiven fac-similes authentic,--is immaterial. Sufficient be it to say\nthat the manuscript of this book has been in my possession for a period\nof seven years, and my lips must now be sealed concerning all that\ntranspired in connection therewith outside the subject-matter recorded\ntherein. And yet I can not deny that for these seven years I have\nhesitated concerning my proper course, and more than once have decided\nto cover from sight the fascinating leaflets, hide them among\nsurrounding volumes, and let them slumber until chance should bring them\nto the attention of the future student.\n\nThese thoughts rise before me this gloomy day of December, 1894, as,\nsnatching a moment from the exactions of business, I sit among these old\nvolumes devoted to science-lore, and again study over the unique\nmanuscript, and meditate; I hesitate again: Shall I, or shall I\nnot?--but a duty is a duty. Perhaps the mysterious part of the subject\nwill be cleared to me only when my own thought-words come to rest among\nthese venerable relics of the past--when books that I have written\nbecome companions of ancient works about me--for then I can claim\nrelationship with the shadows that flit in and out, and can demand that\nthey, the ghosts of the library, commune with the shade that guards the\nbook that holds this preface.\n\n JOHN URI LLOYD.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THIS EDITION.\n\n\nThe foot-note on page 160, with the connected matter, has awakened\nconsiderable interest in the life and fate of Professor Daniel Vaughn.\n\nThe undersigned has received many letters imparting interesting\ninformation relating to Professor Vaughn's early history, and asking\nmany questions concerning a man of whose memory the writer thinks so\nhighly but whose name is generally unknown.\n\nIndeed, as some have even argued that the author of Etidorhpa has no\npersonal existence, the words John Uri Lloyd being a _nom de plume_, so\nothers have accepted Professor Vaughn to have been a fanciful creation\nof the mystical author.\n\nProfessor Daniel Vaughn was one whose life lines ran nearly parallel\nwith those of the late Professor C. S. Rafinesque, whose eventful history\nhas been so graphically written by Professor R. Ellsworth Call. The cups\nof these two talented men were filled with privation's bitterness, and\nin no other place has this writer known the phrase \"The Deadly Parallel\"\nso aptly appropriate. Both came to America, scholars, scientists by\neducation; both traveled through Kentucky, teachers; both gave freely to\nthe world, and both suffered in their old age, dying in\npoverty--Rafinesque perishing in misery in Philadelphia and Vaughn in\nCincinnati.\n\nDaniel Vaughn was not a myth, and, in order that the reader may know\nsomething of the life and fate of this eccentric man, an appendix has\nbeen added to this edition of Etidorhpa, in which a picture of his face\nis shown as the writer knew it in life, and in which brief mention is\nmade of his record.\n\nThe author here extends his thanks to Professor Richard Nelson and to\nFather Eugene Brady for their kindness to the readers of Etidorhpa and\nhimself, for to these gentlemen is due the credit of the appended\nhistorical note.\n\n J. U. L.\n\n\n\n\nA VALUABLE AND UNIQUE LIBRARY.\n\nFrom the Pharmaceutical Era, New York, October, 1894.\n\n\nIn Cincinnati is one of the most famous botanical and pharmacal\nlibraries in the world, and by scientists it is regarded as an\ninvaluable store of knowledge upon those branches of medical science. So\nfamous is it that one of the most noted pharmacologists and chemists of\nGermany, on a recent trip to this country, availed himself of its rich\ncollection as a necessary means of completing his study in the line of\nspecial drug history. When it is known that he has devoted a life of\nnearly eighty years to the study of pharmacology, and is an emeritus\nprofessor in the famous University of Strassburg, the importance of his\naction will be understood and appreciated. We refer to Prof. Frederick\nFlueckiger, who, in connection with Daniel Hanbury, wrote\nPharmacographia and other standard works. Attached to the library is an\nherbarium, begun by Mr. Curtis Gates Lloyd when a schoolboy, in which\nare to be found over 30,000 specimens of the flora of almost every\ncivilized country on the globe. The collections are the work of two\nbrothers, begun when in early boyhood. In money they are priceless, yet\nit is the intention of the founders that they shall be placed, either\nbefore or at their death, in some college or university where all\nstudents may have access to them without cost or favor, and their wills\nare already made to this end, although the institution to receive the\nbequest is not yet selected. Eager requests have been made that they be\nsent to foreign universities, where only, some persons believe, they can\nreceive the appreciation they deserve.\n\nThe resting place of this collection is a neat three-story house at 204\nWest Court street, rebuilt to serve as a library building. On the door\nis a plate embossed with the name Lloyd, the patronymic of the brothers\nin question. They are John Uri and Curtis Gates Lloyd. Every hour that\ncan be spent by these men from business or necessary recreation is spent\nhere. Mr. C. G. Lloyd devotes himself entirely to the study of botany and\nconnected subjects, while his brother is equally devoted to materia\nmedica, pharmacy, and chemistry.\n\nIn the botanical department are the best works obtainable in every\ncountry, and there the study of botany may be carried to any height. In\npoint of age, some of them go back almost to the time when the art of\nprinting was discovered. Two copies of Aristotle are notable. A Greek\nversion bound in vellum was printed in 1584. Another, in parallel\ncolumns of Greek and Latin, by Pacius, was published in 1607. Both are\nin excellent preservation. A bibliographical rarity (two editions) is\nthe \"Historia Plantarum,\" by Pinaeus, which was issued, one in 1561, the\nother in 1567. It appears to have been a first attempt at the production\nof colored plates. Plants that were rare at that time are colored by\nhand, and then have a glossy fixative spread over them, causing the\ncolors still to be as bright and fresh as the day that the\nthree-hundred-years-dead workmen laid them on. Ranged in their sequence\nare fifty volumes of the famous author, Linnaeus. Mr. Lloyd has a very\ncomplete list of the Linnaean works, and his commissioners in Europe and\nAmerica are looking out for the missing volumes. An extremely odd work\nis the book of Dr. Josselyn, entitled \"New England Rarities,\" in which\nthe Puritan author discusses wisely on \"byrds, beastes and fishes\" of\nthe New World. Dr. Carolus Plumierus, a French savant, who flourished in\n1762, contributes an exhaustive work on the \"Flora of the Antilles.\" He\nis antedated many years, however, by Dr. John Clayton, who is termed\nJohannes Claytonus, and Dr. John Frederick Gronovius. These gentlemen\ncollated a work entitled the \"Flora of Virginia,\" which is among the\nfirst descriptions of botany in the United States. Two venerable works\nare those of Mattioli, an Italian writer, who gave his knowledge to the\nworld in 1586, and Levinus Lemnius, who wrote \"De Miraculis Occultis\nNaturae\" in 1628. The father of modern systematized botany is conceded to\nbe Mons. J. P. Tournefort, whose comprehensive work was published in\n1719. It is the fortune of Mr. Lloyd to possess an original edition in\ngood condition. His \"Histoire des Plantes,\" Paris (1698), is also on the\nshelves. In the modern department of the library are the leading French\nand German works. Spanish and Italian authors are also on the shelves,\nthe Lloyd collection of Spanish flora being among the best extant.\nTwenty-two volumes of rice paper, bound in bright yellow and stitched in\nsilk, contain the flora of Japan. All the leaves are delicately tinted\nby those unique flower-painters, the Japanese. This rare work was\npresented to the Lloyd library by Dr. Charles Rice, of New York, who\ninformed the Lloyds that only one other set could be found in America.\n\nOne of the most noted books in the collection of J. U. Lloyd is a Materia\nMedica written by Dr. David Schoepf, a learned German scholar, who\ntraveled through this country in 1787. But a limited number of copies\nwere printed, and but few are extant. One is in the Erlangen library in\nGermany. This Mr. Lloyd secured, and had it copied verbatim. In later\nyears Dr. Charles Rice obtained an original print, and exchanged it for\nthat copy. A like work is that of Dr. Jonathan Carver of the provincial\ntroops in America, published in London in 1796. It treats largely of\nCanadian materia medica. Manasseh Cutler's work, 1785, also adorns this\npart of the library. In addition to almost every work on this subject,\nMr. Lloyd possesses complete editions of the leading serials and\npharmaceutical lists published in the last three quarters of a century.\nAnother book, famous in its way, is Barton's \"Collections Toward a\nMateria Medica of the United States,\" published in 1798, 1801, and 1804.\n\nSeveral noted botanists and chemists have visited the library in recent\nyears. Prof. Flueckiger formed the acquaintance of the Lloyds through\ntheir work, \"Drugs and Medicines of North America,\" being struck by the\nexhaustive references and foot-notes. Students and lovers of the old art\nof copper-plate engraving especially find much in the ornate title pages\nand portraits to please their aesthetic sense. The founders are not\nmiserly, and all students and delvers into the medical and botanical\narts are always welcome. This library of rare books has been collected\nwithout ostentation and with the sole aim to benefit science and\nhumanity. We must not neglect to state that the library is especially\nrich in books pertaining to the American Eclectics and Thomsonians.\nSince it has been learned that this library is at the disposal of\nstudents and is to pass intact to some worthy institution of learning,\ndonations of old or rare books are becoming frequent.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n\n PAGE.\n\nPROLOGUE--History of Llewellyn Drury, 1\n\nCHAPTER.\n\n I. Home of Llewellyn Drury--\"Never Less Alone than When Alone,\" 3\n\n II. A Friendly Conference with Prof. Chickering, 16\n\n III. A Second Interview with the Mysterious Visitor, 23\n\n IV. A Search for Knowledge--The Alchemistic Letter, 35\n\n V. The Writing of \"My Confession,\" 44\n\n VI. Kidnapped, 46\n\n VII. A Wild Night--I am Prematurely Aged, 55\n\n VIII. A Lesson in Mind Study, 63\n\n IX. I Can Not Establish My Identity, 67\n\n X. My Journey Towards the End of Earth Begins--The Adepts\n Brotherhood, 74\n\n XI. My Journey Continues--Instinct, 80\n\n XII. A Cavern Discovered--Biswell's Hill, 84\n\n XIII. The Punch Bowls and Caverns of Kentucky--\"Into the Unknown\n Country,\" 89\n\n XIV. Farewell to God's Sunshine--\"The Echo of the Cry,\" 99\n\n XV. A Zone of Light, Deep Within the Earth, 105\n\n XVI. Vitalized Darkness--The Narrows in Science, 109\n\n XVII. The Fungus Forest--Enchantment, 119\n\n XVIII. The Food of Man, 123\n\n XIX. The Cry from a Distance--I Rebel Against Continuing the\n Journey, 128\n\n\nFIRST INTERLUDE.--THE NARRATIVE INTERRUPTED.\n\n XX. My Unbidden Guest Proves His Statements, and Refutes\n My Philosophy, 134\n\n\nMY UNBIDDEN GUEST CONTINUES HIS MANUSCRIPT.\n\n XXI. My Weight Disappearing, 142\n\n\nSECOND INTERLUDE.\n\n XXII. The Story Again Interrupted--My Guest Departs, 149\n\n XXIII. Scientific Men Questioned--Aristotle's Ether, 151\n\n XXIV. The Soliloquy of Prof. Daniel Vaughn--\"Gravitation is\n the Beginning and Gravitation is the End:\n All Earthly Bodies Kneel to Gravitation,\" 156\n\n\nTHE UNBIDDEN GUEST RETURNS TO READ HIS MANUSCRIPT,\nCONTINUING THE NARRATIVE.\n\n XXV. The Mother of a Volcano--\"You Can Not Disprove, and You\n Dare Not Admit,\" 162\n\n XXVI. Motion from Inherent Energy--\"Lead Me Deeper Into this\n Expanding Study,\" 169\n\n XXVII. Sleep, Dreams, Nightmare--\"Strangle the Life from My\n Body,\" 175\n\n\nTHIRD INTERLUDE.--THE NARRATIVE AGAIN INTERRUPTED.\n\n XXVIII. A Challenge--My Unbidden Guest Accepts It, 179\n\n XXIX. Beware of Biology--The Science of the Life of Man--The\n Old Man relates a Story as an Object Lesson, 186\n\n XXX. Looking Backward--The Living Brain, 193\n\n\nTHE MANUSCRIPT CONTINUED.\n\n XXXI. A Lesson on Volcanoes--Primary Colors are Capable of\n Farther Subdivision, 204\n\n XXXII. Matter is Retarded Motion--\"A Wail of Sadness\n Inexpressible,\" 218\n\n XXXIII. \"A Study of True Science is a Study of God\"--Communing\n with Angels, 224\n\n XXXIV. I Cease to Breathe, and Yet Live, 226\n\n XXXV. \"A Certain Point Within a Circle\"--Men are as Parasites\n on the Roof of Earth, 230\n\n XXXVI. The Drinks of Man, 235\n\n XXVII. The Drunkard's Voice, 238\n\nXXXVIII. The Drunkard's Den, 240\n\n XXXIX. Among the Drunkards, 247\n\n XL. Further Temptation--Etidorhpa Appears, 252\n\n XLI. Misery, 262\n\n XLII. Eternity Without Time, 272\n\n\nFOURTH INTERLUDE.\n\n XLIII. The Last Contest, 277\n\n\nTHE NARRATIVE CONTINUED.\n\n XLIV. The Fathomless Abyss--The Edge of the Earth's Shell, 306\n\n XLV. My Heart-throb is Stilled, and Yet I Live, 310\n\n XLVI. The Inner Circle, or the End of Gravitation--In the\n Bottomless Gulf, 317\n\n XLVII. Hearing Without Ears--\"What Will Be the End?\" 322\n\n XLVIII. Why and How--The Straggling Ray of Light from those\n Farthermost Outreaches, 327\n\n XLIX. Oscillating Through Space--The Earth Shell Above Us, 333\n\n L. My Weight Annihilated--\"Tell me,\" I cried in alarm,\n \"is this a Living Tomb?\" 340\n\n LI. Is That a Mortal?--\"The End of Earth,\" 345\n\n\nFIFTH INTERLUDE.\n\n LII. The Last Farewell, 352\n\n\nEPILOGUE--Letter Accompanying the Mysterious Manuscript, 360\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\nFULL-PAGE.\n\n Likeness of The--Man--Who--Did--It. Frontispiece\n\n PAGE.\n\n Preface Introduction--\"Here lies the bones,\" etc. iii.\n\n \"And to my amazement, saw a white-haired man.\" 7, 8.\n\n \"The same glittering, horrible, mysterious knife.\" 29, 30.\n\n \"Fac-simile of the mysterious manuscript of I--Am--The--Man--\n Who--Did--It.\" 35, 36.\n\n \"My arms were firmly grasped by two persons.\" 47.\n\n \"Map of Kentucky near entrance to cavern.\" 85, 86.\n\n \"Confronted by a singular looking being.\" 95, 96.\n\n \"This struggling ray of sunlight is to be your last for\n years.\" 101, 102.\n\n \"I was in a forest of colossal fungi.\" 117, 118.\n\n \"Monstrous cubical crystals.\" 131, 132.\n\n \"Far as the eye could reach the glassy barrier spread as a\n crystal mirror.\" 147, 148.\n\n \"Soliloquy of Prof. Daniel Vaughn--'Gravitation is the\n beginning, and gravitation is the end; all earthly bodies\n kneel to gravitation.'\" 157, 158.\n\n \"We came to a metal boat.\" 165, 166.\n\n \"Facing the open window he turned the pupils of his eyes\n upward.\" 197, 198.\n\n \"We finally reached a precipitous bluff.\" 205, 206.\n\n \"The wall descended perpendicularly to seemingly infinite\n depths.\" 209, 210.\n\n Etidorhpa. 255, 256.\n\n \"We passed through caverns filled with creeping reptiles.\" 297, 298.\n\n \"Flowers and structures beautiful, insects gorgeous.\" 303, 304.\n\n \"With fear and trembling I crept on my knees to his side.\" 307, 308.\n\n Diagram descriptive of journey from the Kentucky cavern to\n the \"End of Earth,\" showing section of earth's crust. 332, 333.\n\n \"Suspended in vacancy, he seemed to float.\" 347, 348.\n\n \"I stood alone in my room holding the mysterious\n manuscript.\" 357, 358.\n\n Fac-simile of letter from I--Am--The--Man. 363.\n\n Manuscript dedication of Author's Edition. 364, 365.\n\n\nHALF-PAGE AND TEXT CUTS.\n\n \"The Stern Face.\" Fac-simile, reduced from copper plate title\n page of the botanical work (1708), 917 pages, of Simonis\n Paulli, D., a Danish physician. Original plate 7 x 5-1/2\n inches. iv.\n\n \"The Pleasant Face.\" Fac-simile of the original copper plate\n frontispiece to the finely illustrated botanical work of\n Joannes Burmannus, M.D., descriptive of the plants collected\n by Carolus Plumierus. Antique. Original plate 9 x 13 inches. v.\n\n \"Skeleton forms oppose my own.\" Photograph of John Uri Lloyd\n in the gloomy alcove of the antiquated library. vi.\n\n \"Let me have your answer now.\" 12.\n\n \"I espied upon the table a long white hair.\" 14.\n\n \"Drew the knife twice across the front of the door-knob.\" 32.\n\n \"I was taken from the vehicle, and transferred to a\n block-house.\" 52.\n\n \"The dead man was thrown overboard.\" 54.\n\n \"A mirror was thrust beneath my gaze.\" 58.\n\n \"I am the man you seek.\" 70.\n\n \"We approach daylight, I can see your face.\" 106.\n\n \"Seated himself on a natural bench of stone.\" 108.\n\n \"An endless variety of stony figures.\" 129.\n\n Cuts showing water and brine surfaces. 136.\n\n Cuts showing earth chambers in which water rises above brine. 137.\n\n Cuts showing that if properly connected, water and brine\n reverse the usual law as to the height of their surfaces. 138, 139.\n\n \"I bounded upward fully six feet.\" 143.\n\n \"I fluttered to the earth as a leaf would fall.\" 144.\n\n \"We leaped over great inequalities.\" 145.\n\n \"The bit of garment fluttered listlessly away to the distance,\n and then--vacancy.\" 173.\n\n Cut showing that water may be made to flow from a tube higher\n than the surface of the water. 182.\n\n Cut showing how an artesian fountain may be made without earth\n strata. 184.\n\n \"Rising abruptly, he grasped my hand.\" 191.\n\n \"A brain, a living brain, my own brain.\" 200.\n\n \"Shape of drop of water in the earth cavern.\" 211.\n\n \"We would skip several rods, alighting gently.\" 227.\n\n \"An uncontrollable, inexpressible desire to flee.\" 229.\n\n \"I dropped on my knees before him.\" 232.\n\n \"Handing me one of the halves, he spoke the single word,\n 'Drink.'\" 234.\n\n \"Each finger pointed towards the open way in front.\" 242.\n\n \"Telescoped energy spheres.\" 280.\n\n \"Space dirt on energy spheres.\" 281.\n\n \"I drew back the bar of iron to smite the apparently\n defenseless being in the forehead.\" 313.\n\n \"He sprung from the edge of the cliff into the abyss below,\n carrying me with him into its depths.\" 315.\n\n \"The Earth and its atmosphere.\" 336.\n\n\n\n\nPROLOGUE.\n\n\nMy name was Johannes Llewellyn Llongollyn Drury. I was named Llewellyn\nat my mother's desire, out of respect to her father, Dr. Evan Llewellyn,\nthe scientist and speculative philosopher, well known to curious\nstudents as the author of various rare works on occult subjects. The\nother given names were ancestral also, but when I reached the age of\nappreciation, they naturally became distasteful; so it is that in early\nyouth I dropped the first and third of these cumbersome words, and\nretained only the second Christian name. While perhaps the reader of\nthese lines may regard this cognomen with less favor than either of the\nothers, still I liked it, as it was the favorite of my mother, who\nalways used the name in full; the world, however, contracted Llewellyn\nto Lew, much to the distress of my dear mother, who felt aggrieved at\nthe liberty. After her death I decided to move to a western city, and\nalso determined, out of respect to her memory, to select from and\nrearrange the letters of my several names, and construct therefrom three\nshort, terse words, which would convey to myself only, the resemblance\nof my former name. Hence it is that the Cincinnati Directory does not\nrecord my self-selected name, which I have no reason to bring before the\npublic. To the reader my name is Llewellyn Drury. I might add that my\nancestors were among the early settlers of what is now New York City,\nand were direct descendants of the early Welsh kings; but these matters\ndo not concern the reader, and it is not of them that I now choose to\nwrite. My object in putting down these preliminary paragraphs is simply\nto assure the reader of such facts, and such only, as may give him\nconfidence in my personal sincerity and responsibility, in order that he\nmay with a right understanding read the remarkable statements that occur\nin the succeeding chapters.\n\nThe story I am about to relate is very direct, and some parts of it are\nvery strange, not to say marvelous; but not on account of its\nstrangeness alone do I ask for the narrative a reading;--that were mere\ntrifling. What is here set down happened as recorded, but I shall not\nattempt to explain things which even to myself are enigmatical. Let the\ncandid reader read the story as I have told it, and make out of it what\nhe can, or let him pass the page by unread--I shall not insist on\nclaiming his further attention. Only, if he does read, I beg him to read\nwith an open mind, without prejudice and without predilection.\n\nWho or what I am as a participant in this work is of small importance. I\nmention my history only for the sake of frankness and fairness. I have\nnothing to gain by issuing the volume. Neither do I court praise nor\nshun censure. My purpose is to tell the truth.\n\nEarly in the fifties I took up my residence in the Queen City, and\nthough a very young man, found the employment ready that a friend had\nobtained for me with a manufacturing firm engaged in a large and\ncomplicated business. My duties were varied and peculiar, of such a\nnature as to tax body and mind to the utmost, and for several years I\nserved in the most exacting of business details. Besides the labor which\nmy vocation entailed, with its manifold and multiform perplexities, I\nvoluntarily imposed upon myself other tasks, which I pursued in the\nprivacy of my own bachelor apartments. An inherited love for books on\nabstruse and occult subjects, probably in part the result of my blood\nconnection with Dr. Evan Llewellyn, caused me to collect a unique\nlibrary, largely on mystical subjects, in which I took the keenest\ndelight. My business and my professional duties by day, and my studies\nat night, made my life a busy one.\n\nIn the midst of my work and reading I encountered the character whose\nstrange story forms the essential part of the following narrative. I may\nanticipate by saying that the manuscript to follow only incidentally\nconcerns myself, and that if possible I would relinquish all connection\ntherewith. It recites the physical, mental, and moral adventures of one\nwhose life history was abruptly thrust upon my attention, and as\nabruptly interrupted. The vicissitudes of his body and soul,\ncircumstances seemed to compel me to learn and to make public.\n\n\n\n\nETIDORPHA.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n \"NEVER LESS ALONE THAN WHEN ALONE.\"\n\n\nMore than thirty years ago occurred the first of the series of\nremarkable events I am about to relate. The exact date I can not recall;\nbut it was in November, and, to those familiar with November weather in\nthe Ohio Valley, it is hardly necessary to state that the month is one\nof possibilities. That is to say, it is liable to bring every variety of\nweather, from the delicious, dreamy Indian summer days that linger late\nin the fall, to a combination of rain, hail, snow, sleet,--in short,\natmospheric conditions sufficiently aggravating to develop a suicidal\nmania in any one the least susceptible to such influences. While the\ngeneral character of the month is much the same the country\nover,--showing dull grey tones of sky, abundant rains that penetrate man\nas they do the earth; cold, shifting winds, that search the very\nmarrow,--it is always safe to count more or less upon the probability of\nthe unexpected throughout the month.\n\nThe particular day which ushered in the event about to be chronicled,\nwas one of these possible heterogeneous days presenting a combination of\nsunshine, shower, and snow, with winds that rang all the changes from\nbalmy to blustery, a morning air of caloric and an evening of numbing\ncold. The early morning started fair and sunny; later came light showers\nsuddenly switched by shifting winds into blinding sleet, until the\nmiddle of the afternoon found the four winds and all the elements\ncommingled in one wild orgy with clashing and roaring as of a great\norgan with all the stops out, and all the storm-fiends dancing over the\nkey-boards! Nightfall brought some semblance of order to the sounding\nchaos, but still kept up the wild music of a typical November day, with\nevery accompaniment of bleakness, gloom, and desolation.\n\nThousands of chimneys, exhaling murky clouds of bituminous soot all day,\nhad covered the city with the proverbial pall which the winds in their\nsport had shifted hither and yon, but as, thoroughly tired out, they\nsubsided into silence, the smoky mesh suddenly settled over the houses\nand into the streets, taking possession of the city and contributing to\nthe melancholy wretchedness of such of the inhabitants as had to be out\nof doors. Through this smoke the red sun when visible had dragged his\ndownward course in manifest discouragement, and the hastening twilight\nsoon gave place to the blackness of darkness. Night reigned supreme.\n\nThirty years ago electric lighting was not in vogue, and the system of\nstreet lamps was far less complete than at present, although the gas\nburned in them may not have been any worse. The lamps were much fewer\nand farther between, and the light which they emitted had a feeble,\nsickly aspect, and did not reach any distance into the moist and murky\natmosphere. And so the night was dismal enough, and the few people upon\nthe street were visible only as they passed directly beneath the lamps,\nor in front of lighted windows; seeming at other times like moving\nshadows against a black ground.\n\nAs I am like to be conspicuous in these pages, it may be proper to say\nthat I am very susceptible to atmospheric influences. I figure among my\nfriends as a man of quiet disposition, but I am at times morose,\nalthough I endeavor to conceal this fact from others. My nervous system\nis a sensitive weather-glass. Sometimes I fancy that I must have been\nborn under the planet Saturn, for I find myself unpleasantly influenced\nby moods ascribed to that depressing planet, more especially in its\ndisagreeable phases, for I regret to state that I do not find\ncorresponding elation, as I should, in its brighter aspects. I have an\nespecial dislike for wintry weather, a dislike which I find growing with\nmy years, until it has developed almost into positive antipathy and\ndread. On the day I have described, my moods had varied with the\nweather. The fitfulness of the winds had found its way into my\nfeelings, and the somber tone of the clouds into my meditations. I was\nrestless as the elements, and a deep sense of dissatisfaction with\nmyself and everything else, possessed me. I could not content myself in\nany place or position. Reading was distasteful, writing equally so; but\nit occurred to me that a brisk walk, for a few blocks, might afford\nrelief. Muffling myself up in my overcoat and fur cap, I took the\nstreet, only to find the air gusty and raw, and I gave up in still\ngreater disgust, and returning home, after drawing the curtains and\nlocking the doors, planted myself in front of a glowing grate fire,\nfirmly resolved to rid myself of myself by resorting to the oblivion of\nthought, reverie, or dream. To sleep was impossible, and I sat moodily\nin an easy chair, noting the quarter and half-hour strokes as they were\nchimed out sweetly from the spire of St. Peter's Cathedral, a few blocks\naway.\n\nNine o'clock passed with its silver-voiced song of \"Home, Sweet Home\";\nten, and then eleven strokes of the ponderous bell which noted the\nhours, roused me to a strenuous effort to shake off the feelings of\ndespondency, unrest, and turbulence, that all combined to produce a\nstate of mental and physical misery now insufferable. Rising suddenly\nfrom my chair, without a conscious effort I walked mechanically to a\nbook-case, seized a volume at random, reseated myself before the fire,\nand opened the book. It proved to be an odd, neglected volume, \"Riley's\nDictionary of Latin Quotations.\" At the moment there flashed upon me a\nconscious duality of existence. Had the old book some mesmeric power? I\nseemed to myself two persons, and I quickly said aloud, as if addressing\nmy double: \"If I can not quiet you, turbulent Spirit, I can at least\nadapt myself to your condition. I will read this book haphazard from\nbottom to top, or backward, if necessary, and if this does not change\nthe subject often enough, I will try Noah Webster.\" Opening the book\nmechanically at page 297, I glanced at the bottom line and read,\n\"Nunquam minus solus quam cum solus\" (Never less alone than when alone).\nThese words arrested my thoughts at once, as, by a singular chance, they\nseemed to fit my mood; was it or was it not some conscious invisible\nintelligence that caused me to select that page, and brought the\napothegm to my notice?\n\nAgain, like a flash, came the consciousness of duality, and I began to\nargue with my other self. \"This is arrant nonsense,\" I cried aloud;\n\"even though Cicero did say it, and, it is on a par with many other\ndelusive maxims that have for so many years embittered the existence of\nour modern youth by misleading thought. Do you know, Mr. Cicero, that\nthis statement is not sound? That it is unworthy the position you occupy\nin history as a thinker and philosopher? That it is a contradiction in\nitself, for if a man is alone he is alone, and that settles it?\"\n\nI mused in this vein a few moments, and then resumed aloud: \"It won't\ndo, it won't do; if one is alone--the word is absolute,--he is single,\nisolated, in short, alone; and there can by no manner of possibility be\nany one else present. Take myself, for instance: I am the sole occupant\nof this apartment; I am alone, and yet you say in so many words that I\nwas never less alone than at this instant.\" It was not without some\nmisgiving that I uttered these words, for the strange consciousness of\nmy own duality constantly grew stronger, and I could not shake off the\nreflection that even now there were two of myself in the room, and that\nI was not so much alone as I endeavored to convince myself.\n\nThis feeling oppressed me like an incubus; I must throw it off, and,\nrising, I tossed the book upon the table, exclaiming: \"What folly! I am\nalone,--positively there is no other living thing visible or invisible\nin the room.\" I hesitated as I spoke, for the strange, undefined\nsensation that I was not alone had become almost a conviction; but the\nsound of my voice encouraged me, and I determined to discuss the\nsubject, and I remarked in a full, strong voice: \"I am surely alone; I\nknow I am! Why, I will wager everything I possess, even to my soul, that\nI am alone.\" I stood facing the smoldering embers of the fire which I\nhad neglected to replenish, uttering these words to settle the\ncontroversy for good and all with one person of my dual self, but the\nother ego seemed to dissent violently, when a soft, clear voice claimed\nmy ear:\n\n\"You have lost your wager; you are not alone.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"AND TO MY AMAZEMENT SAW A WHITE-HAIRED MAN.\"]\n\nI turned instantly towards the direction of the sound, and, to my\namazement, saw a white-haired man seated on the opposite side of the\nroom, gazing at me with the utmost composure. I am not a coward, nor a\nbeliever in ghosts or illusions, and yet that sight froze me where I\nstood. It had no supernatural appearance--on the contrary, was a plain,\nordinary, flesh-and-blood man; but the weather, the experiences of\nthe day, the weird, inclement night, had all conspired to strain my\nnerves to the highest point of tension, and I trembled from head to\nfoot. Noting this, the stranger said pleasantly: \"Quiet yourself, my\ndear sir; you have nothing to fear; be seated.\" I obeyed, mechanically,\nand regaining in a few moments some semblance of composure, took a\nmental inventory of my visitor. Who is he? what is he? how did he enter\nwithout my notice, and why? what is his business? were all questions\nthat flashed into my mind in quick succession, and quickly flashed out\nunanswered.\n\nThe stranger sat eying me composedly, even pleasantly, as if waiting for\nme to reach some conclusion regarding himself. At last I surmised: \"He\nis a maniac who has found his way here by methods peculiar to the\ninsane, and my personal safety demands that I use him discreetly.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" he remarked, as though reading my thoughts; \"as well think\nthat as anything else.\"\n\n\"But why are you here? What is your business?\" I asked.\n\n\"You have made and lost a wager,\" he said. \"You have committed an act of\nfolly in making positive statements regarding a matter about which you\nknow nothing--a very common failing, by the way, on the part of mankind,\nand concerning which I wish first to set you straight.\"\n\nThe ironical coolness with which he said this provoked me, and I hastily\nrejoined: \"You are impertinent; I must ask you to leave my house at\nonce.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" he answered; \"but if you insist upon this, I shall, on\nbehalf of Cicero, claim the stake of your voluntary wager, which means\nthat I must first, by natural though violent means, release your soul\nfrom your body.\" So saying he arose, drew from an inner pocket a long,\nkeen knife, the blade of which quiveringly glistened as he laid it upon\nthe table. Moving his chair so as to be within easy reach of the\ngleaming weapon, he sat down, and again regarded me with the same quiet\ncomposure I had noted, and which was fast dispelling my first impression\nconcerning his sanity.\n\nI was not prepared for his strange action; in truth, I was not prepared\nfor anything; my mind was confused concerning the whole night's doings,\nand I was unable to reason clearly or consecutively, or even to satisfy\nmyself what I did think, if indeed I thought at all.\n\nThe sensation of fear, however, was fast leaving me; there was something\nreassuring in my unbidden guest's perfect ease of manner, and the mild,\nthough searching gaze of his eyes, which were wonderful in their\nexpression. I began to observe his personal characteristics, which\nimpressed me favorably, and yet were extraordinary. He was nearly six\nfeet tall, and perfectly straight; well proportioned, with no tendency\neither to leanness or obesity. But his head was an object from which I\ncould not take my eyes,--such a head surely I had never before seen on\nmortal shoulders. The chin, as seen through his silver beard, was\nrounded and well developed, the mouth straight, with pleasant lines\nabout it, the jaws square and, like the mouth, indicating decision, the\neyes deep set and arched with heavy eyebrows, and the whole surmounted\nby a forehead so vast, so high, that it was almost a deformity, and yet\nit did not impress me unpleasantly; it was the forehead of a scholar, a\nprofound thinker, a deep student. The nose was inclined to aquiline, and\nquite large. The contour of the head and face impressed me as indicating\na man of learning, one who had given a lifetime to experimental as well\nas speculative thought. His voice was mellow, clear, and distinct,\nalways pleasantly modulated and soft, never loud nor unpleasant in the\nleast degree. One remarkable feature I must not fail to mention--his\nhair; this, while thin and scant upon the top of his head, was long, and\nreached to his shoulders; his beard was of unusual length, descending\nalmost to his waist; his hair, eyebrows, and beard were all of singular\nwhiteness and purity, almost transparent, a silvery whiteness that\nseemed an aureolar sheen in the glare of the gaslight. What struck me as\nparticularly remarkable was that his skin looked as soft and smooth as\nthat of a child; there was not a blemish in it. His age was a puzzle\nnone could guess; stripped of his hair, or the color of it changed, he\nmight be twenty-five,--given a few wrinkles, he might be ninety. Taken\naltogether, I had never seen his like, nor anything approaching his\nlike, and for an instant there was a faint suggestion to my mind that he\nwas not of this earth, but belonged to some other planet.\n\nI now fancy he must have read my impressions of him as these ideas\nshaped themselves in my brain, and that he was quietly waiting for me\nto regain a degree of self-possession that would allow him to disclose\nthe purpose of his visit.\n\nHe was first to break the silence: \"I see that you are not disposed to\npay your wager any more than I am to collect it, so we will not discuss\nthat. I admit that my introduction to-night was abrupt, but you can not\ndeny that you challenged me to appear.\" I was not clear upon the point,\nand said so. \"Your memory is at fault,\" he continued, \"if you can not\nrecall your experiences of the day just past. Did you not attempt to\ninterest yourself in modern book lore, to fix your mind in turn upon\nhistory, chemistry, botany, poetry, and general literature? And all\nthese failing, did you not deliberately challenge Cicero to a practical\ndemonstration of an old apothegm of his that has survived for centuries,\nand of your own free will did not you make a wager that, as an admirer\nof Cicero's, I am free to accept?\" To all this I could but silently\nassent. \"Very good, then; we will not pursue this subject further, as it\nis not relevant to my purpose, which is to acquaint you with a narrative\nof unusual interest, upon certain conditions, with which if you comply,\nyou will not only serve yourself, but me as well.\"\n\n\"Please name the conditions,\" I said.\n\n\"They are simple enough,\" he answered. \"The narrative I speak of is in\nmanuscript. I will produce it in the near future, and my design is to\nread it aloud to you, or to allow you to read it to me, as you may\nselect. Further, my wish is that during the reading you shall interpose\nany objection or question that you deem proper. This reading will occupy\nmany evenings, and I shall of necessity be with you often. When the\nreading is concluded, we will seal the package securely, and I shall\nleave you forever. You will then deposit the manuscript in some safe\nplace, and let it remain for thirty years. When this period has elapsed,\nI wish you to publish this history to the world.\"\n\n\"Your conditions seem easy,\" I said, after a few seconds' pause.\n\n\"They are certainly very simple; do you accept?\"\n\nI hesitated, for the prospect of giving myself up to a succession of\ninterviews with this extraordinary and mysterious personage seemed to\nrequire consideration. He evidently divined my thoughts, for, rising\nfrom his chair, he said abruptly: \"Let me have your answer now.\"\n\nI debated the matter no further, but answered: \"I accept,\nconditionally.\"\n\n\"Name your conditions,\" the guest replied.\n\n\"I will either publish the work, or induce some other man to do so.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"LET ME HAVE YOUR ANSWER NOW.\"]\n\n\"Good,\" he said; \"I will see you again,\" with a polite bow; and turning\nto the door which I had previously locked, he opened it softly, and with\na quiet \"Good night\" disappeared in the hall-way.\n\nI looked after him with bewildered senses; but a sudden impulse caused\nme to glance toward the table, when I saw that he had forgotten his\nknife. With the view of returning this, I reached to pick it up, but my\nfinger tips no sooner touched the handle than a sudden chill shivered\nalong my nerves. Not as an electric shock, but rather as a sensation of\nextreme cold was the current that ran through me in an instant. Rushing\ninto the hall-way to the landing of the stairs, I called after the\nmysterious being, \"You have forgotten your knife,\" but beyond the faint\necho of my voice, I heard no sound. The phantom was gone. A moment later\nI was at the foot of the stairs, and had thrown open the door. A street\nlamp shed an uncertain light in front of the house. I stepped out and\nlistened intently for a moment, but not a sound was audible, if indeed I\nexcept the beating of my own heart, which throbbed so wildly that I\nfancied I heard it. No footfall echoed from the deserted streets; all\nwas silent as a churchyard, and I closed and locked the door softly,\ntiptoed my way back to my room, and sank collapsed into an easy chair. I\nwas more than exhausted; I quivered from head to foot, not with cold,\nbut with a strange nervous chill that found intensest expression in my\nspinal column, and seemed to flash up and down my back vibrating like a\nfeverous pulse. This active pain was succeeded by a feeling of frozen\nnumbness, and I sat I know not how long, trying to tranquilize myself\nand think temperately of the night's occurrence. By degrees I recovered\nmy normal sensations, and directing my will in the channel of sober\nreasoning, I said to myself: \"There can be no mistake about his visit,\nfor his knife is here as a witness to the fact. So much is sure, and I\nwill secure that testimony at all events.\" With this reflection I turned\nto the table, but to my astonishment I discovered that the knife had\ndisappeared. It needed but this miracle to start the perspiration in\ngreat cold beads from every pore. My brain was in a whirl, and reeling\ninto a chair, I covered my face with my hands. How long I sat in this\nposture I do not remember. I only know that I began to doubt my own\nsanity, and wondered if this were not the way people became deranged.\nHad not my peculiar habits of isolation, irregular and intense study,\nerratic living, all conspired to unseat reason? Surely here was every\nground to believe so; and yet I was able still to think consistently and\nhold steadily to a single line of thought. Insane people can not do\nthat, I reflected, and gradually the tremor and excitement wore away.\nWhen I had become calmer and more collected, and my sober judgment said,\n\"Go to bed; sleep just as long as you can; hold your eyelids down, and\nwhen you awake refreshed, as you will, think out the whole subject at\nyour leisure,\" I arose, threw open the shutters, and found that day was\nbreaking. Hastily undressing I went to bed, and closed my eyes, vaguely\nconscious of some soothing guardianship. Perhaps because I was\nphysically exhausted, I soon lost myself in the oblivion of sleep.\n\n[Illustration: \"I ESPIED UPON THE TABLE A LONG WHITE HAIR.\"]\n\nI did not dream,--at least I could not afterwards remember my dream if I\nhad one, but I recollect thinking that somebody struck ten distinct\nblows on my door, which seemed to me to be of metal and very sonorous.\nThese ten blows in my semi-conscious state I counted. I lay very quiet\nfor a time collecting my thoughts and noting various objects about the\nroom, until my eye caught the dial of a French clock upon the mantel.\nIt was a few minutes past ten, and the blows I had heard were the\nstrokes of the hammer upon the gong in the clock. The sun was shining\ninto the room, which was quite cold, for the fire had gone out. I arose,\ndressed myself quickly, and after thoroughly laving my face and hands in\nice-cold water, felt considerably refreshed.\n\nBefore going out to breakfast, while looking around the room for a few\nthings which I wanted to take with me, I espied upon the table a long\nwhite hair. This was indeed a surprise, for I had about concluded that\nmy adventure of the previous night was a species of waking nightmare,\nthe result of overworked brain and weakened body. But here was tangible\nevidence to the contrary, an assurance that my mysterious visitor was\nnot a fancy or a dream, and his parting words, \"I will see you again,\"\nrecurred to me with singular effect. \"He will see me again; very well; I\nwill preserve this evidence of his visit for future use.\" I wound the\ndelicate filament into a little coil, folded it carefully in a bit of\npaper, and consigned it to a corner in my pocket-book, though not\nwithout some misgiving that it too might disappear as did the knife.\n\nThe strange experience of that night had a good effect on me; I became\nmore regular in all my habits, took abundant sleep and exercise, was\nmore methodical in my modes of study and reasoning, and in a short time\nfound myself vastly improved in every way, mentally and physically.\n\nThe days went fleeting into weeks, the weeks into months, and while the\nform and figure of the white-haired stranger were seldom absent from my\nmind, he came no more.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n A FRIENDLY CONFERENCE.\n\n\nIt is rare, in our present civilization, to find a man who lives alone.\nThis remark does not apply to hermits or persons of abnormal or\nperverted mental tendencies, but to the majority of mankind living and\nmoving actively among their fellows, and engaged in the ordinary\noccupations of humanity. Every man must have at least one confidant,\neither of his own household, or within the circle of his intimate\nfriends. There may possibly be rare exceptions among persons of genius\nin statecraft, war, or commerce, but it is doubtful even in such\ninstances if any keep all their thoughts to themselves, hermetically\nsealed from their fellows. As a prevailing rule, either a loving wife or\nvery near friend shares the inner thought of the most secretive\nindividual, even when secrecy seems an indispensable element to success.\nThe tendency to a free interchange of ideas and experiences is almost\nuniversal, instinct prompting the natural man to unburden his most\nsacred thought, when the proper confidant and the proper time come for\nthe disclosure.\n\nFor months I kept to myself the events narrated in the preceding\nchapter. And this for several reasons: first, the dread of ridicule that\nwould follow the relation of the fantastic occurrences, and the possible\nsuspicion of my sanity, that might result from the recital; second, very\ngrave doubts as to the reality of my experiences. But by degrees\nself-confidence was restored, as I reasoned the matter over and\nreassured myself by occasional contemplation of the silvery hair I had\ncoiled in my pocket-book, and which at first I had expected would vanish\nas did the stranger's knife. There came upon me a feeling that I should\nsee my weird visitor again, and at an early day. I resisted this\nimpression, for it was a feeling of the idea, rather than a thought, but\nthe vague expectation grew upon me in spite of myself, until at length\nit became a conviction which no argument or logic could shake.\nCuriously enough, as the original incident receded into the past, this\nnew idea thrust itself into the foreground, and I began in my own mind\nto court another interview. At times, sitting alone after night, I felt\nthat I was watched by unseen eyes; these eyes haunted me in my solitude,\nand I was morally sure of the presence of another than myself in the\nroom. The sensation was at first unpleasant, and I tried to throw it\noff, with partial success. But only for a little while could I banish\nthe intrusive idea, and as the thought took form, and the invisible\npresence became more actual to consciousness, I hoped that the stranger\nwould make good his parting promise, \"I will see you again.\"\n\nOn one thing I was resolved; I would at least be better informed on the\nsubject of hallucinations and apparitions, and not be taken unawares as\nI had been. To this end I decided to confer with my friend, Professor\nChickering, a quiet, thoughtful man, of varied accomplishments, and\nthoroughly read upon a great number of topics, especially in the\nliterature of the marvelous.\n\nSo to the Professor I went, after due appointment, and confided to him\nfull particulars of my adventure. He listened patiently throughout, and\nwhen I had finished, assured me in a matter-of-fact way that such\nhallucinations were by no means rare. His remark was provoking, for I\ndid not expect from the patient interest he had shown while I was\ntelling my story, that the whole matter would be dismissed thus\nsummarily. I said with some warmth:\n\n\"But this was not a hallucination. I tried at first to persuade myself\nthat it was illusory, but the more I have thought the experience over,\nthe more real it becomes to me.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you were dreaming,\" suggested the Professor.\n\n\"No,\" I answered; \"I have tried that hypothesis, and it will not do.\nMany things make that view untenable.\"\n\n\"Do not be too sure of that,\" he said; \"you were, by your own account,\nin a highly nervous condition, and physically tired. It is possible,\nperhaps probable, that in this state, as you sat in your chair, you\ndozed off for a short interval, during which the illusion flashed\nthrough your mind.\"\n\n\"How do you explain the fact that incidents occupying a large portion of\nthe night, occurred in an interval which you describe as a flash?\"\n\n\"Easily enough; in dreams time may not exist: periods embracing weeks or\nmonths may be reduced to an instant. Long journeys, hours of\nconversation, or a multitude of transactions, may be compressed into a\nterm measured by the opening or closing of a door, or the striking of a\nclock. In dreams, ordinary standards of reason find no place, while\nideas or events chase through the mind more rapidly than thought.\"\n\n\"Conceding all this, why did I, considering the unusual character of the\nincidents, accept them as real, as substantial, as natural as the most\ncommonplace events?\"\n\n\"There is nothing extraordinary in that,\" he replied. \"In dreams all\nsorts of absurdities, impossibilities, discordancies, and violation of\nnatural law appear realities, without exciting the least surprise or\nsuspicion. Imagination runs riot and is supreme, and reason for the time\nis dormant. We see ghosts, spirits, the forms of persons dead or\nliving,--we suffer pain, pleasure, hunger,--and all sensations and\nemotions, without a moment's question of their reality.\"\n\n\"Do any of the subjects of our dreams or visions leave tangible\nevidences of their presence?\"\n\n\"Assuredly not,\" he answered, with an incredulous, half-impatient\ngesture; \"the idea is absurd.\"\n\n\"Then I was not dreaming,\" I mused.\n\nWithout looking at me, the Professor went on: \"These false presentiments\nmay have their origin in other ways, as from mental disorders caused by\nindigestion. Nicolai, a noted bookseller of Berlin, was thus afflicted.\nHis experiences are interesting and possibly suggestive. Let me read\nsome of them to you.\"\n\nThe Professor hereupon glanced over his bookshelf, selected a volume,\nand proceeded to read:[1]\n\n [1] This work I have found to be Vol. IV. of Chambers' Miscellany,\n published by Gould and Lincoln, Boston.--J. U. L.\n\n \"I generally saw human forms of both sexes; but they usually\n seemed not to take the smallest notice of each other, moving as\n in a market place, where all are eager to press through the\n crowd; at times, however, they seemed to be transacting business\n with each other. I also saw several times, people on horseback,\n dogs, and birds.\n\n \"All these phantasms appeared to me in their natural size, and as\n distinct as if alive, exhibiting different shades of carnation in\n the uncovered parts, as well as different colors and fashions in\n their dresses, though the colors seemed somewhat paler than in\n real nature. None of the figures appeared particularly terrible,\n comical, or disgusting, most of them being of indifferent shape,\n and some presenting a pleasant aspect. The longer these phantasms\n continued to visit me, the more frequently did they return, while\n at the same time they increased in number about four weeks after\n they had first appeared. I also began to hear them talk: these\n phantoms conversed among themselves, but more frequently\n addressed their discourse to me; their speeches were uncommonly\n short, and never of an unpleasant turn. At different times there\n appeared to me both dear and sensible friends of both sexes,\n whose addresses tended to appease my grief, which had not yet\n wholly subsided: their consolatory speeches were in general\n addressed to me when I was alone. Sometimes, however, I was\n accosted by these consoling friends while I was engaged in\n company, and not unfrequently while real persons were speaking to\n me. These consolatory addresses consisted sometimes of abrupt\n phrases, and at other times they were regularly executed.\"\n\nHere I interrupted: \"I note, Professor, that Mr. Nicolai knew these\nforms to be illusions.\"\n\nWithout answering my remark, he continued to read:\n\n \"There is in imagination a potency far exceeding the fabled power\n of Aladdin's lamp. How often does one sit in wintry evening\n musings, and trace in the glowing embers the features of an\n absent friend? Imagination, with its magic wand, will there build\n a city with its countless spires, or marshal contending armies,\n or drive the tempest-shattered ship upon the ocean. The following\n story, related by Scott, affords a good illustration of this\n principle:\n\n \"'Not long after the death of an illustrious poet, who had\n filled, while living, a great station in the eyes of the public,\n a literary friend, to whom the deceased had been well known, was\n engaged during the darkening twilight of an autumn evening, in\n perusing one of the publications which professed to detail the\n habits and opinions of the distinguished individual who was now\n no more. As the reader had enjoyed the intimacy of the deceased\n to a considerable degree, he was deeply interested in the\n publication, which contained some particulars relating to himself\n and other friends. A visitor was sitting in the apartment, who\n was also engaged in reading. Their sitting-room opened into an\n entrance hall, rather fantastically fitted up with articles of\n armor, skins of wild animals, and the like. It was when laying\n down his book, and passing into this hall, through which the moon\n was beginning to shine, that the individual of whom I speak saw\n right before him, in a standing posture, the exact representation\n of his departed friend, whose recollection had been so strongly\n brought to his imagination. He stopped for a single moment, so as\n to notice the wonderful accuracy with which fancy had impressed\n upon the bodily eye the peculiarities of dress and position of\n the illustrious poet. Sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt\n no sentiment save that of wonder at the extraordinary accuracy of\n the resemblance, and stepped onward to the figure, which resolved\n itself as he approached into the various materials of which it\n was composed. These were merely a screen occupied by great coats,\n shawls, plaids, and such other articles as are usually found in a\n country entrance hall. The spectator returned to the spot from\n which he had seen the illusion, and endeavored with all his power\n to recall the image which had been so singularly vivid. But this\n he was unable to do. And the person who had witnessed the\n apparition, or, more properly, whose excited state had been the\n means of raising it, had only to return to the apartment, and\n tell his young friend under what a striking hallucination he had\n for a moment labored.'\"\n\nHere I was constrained to call the Professor to a halt. \"Your stories\nare very interesting,\" I said, \"but I fail to perceive any analogy in\neither the conditions or the incidents, to my experience. I was fully\nawake and conscious at the time, and the man I saw appeared and moved\nabout in the full glare of the gaslight,--\"\n\n\"Perhaps not,\" he answered; \"I am simply giving you some general\nillustrations of the subject. But here is a case more to the point.\"\n\nAgain he read:\n\n \"A lady was once passing through a wood, in the darkening\n twilight of a stormy evening, to visit a friend who was watching\n over a dying child. The clouds were thick--the rain beginning to\n fall; darkness was increasing; the wind was moaning mournfully\n through the trees. The lady's heart almost failed her as she saw\n that she had a mile to walk through the woods in the gathering\n gloom. But the reflection of the situation of her friend forbade\n her turning back. Excited and trembling, she called to her aid a\n nervous resolution, and pressed onward. She had not proceeded far\n when she beheld in the path before her the movement of some very\n indistinct object. It appeared to keep a little distance ahead of\n her, and as she made efforts to get nearer to see what it was, it\n seemed proportionally to recede. The lady began to feel rather\n unpleasantly. There was some pale white object certainly\n discernible before her, and it appeared mysteriously to float\n along, at a regular distance, without any effort at motion.\n Notwithstanding the lady's good sense and unusual resolution, a\n cold chill began to come over her. She made every effort to\n resist her fears, and soon succeeded in drawing nearer the\n mysterious object, when she was appalled at beholding the\n features of her friend's child, cold in death, wrapt in its\n shroud. She gazed earnestly, and there it remained distinct and\n clear before her eyes. She considered it a premonition that her\n friend's child was dead, and that she must hasten to her aid. But\n there was the apparition directly in her path. She must pass it.\n Taking up a little stick, she forced herself along to the object,\n and behold, some little animal scampered away. It was this that\n her excited imagination had transformed into the corpse of an\n infant in its winding sheet.\"\n\nI was a little irritated, and once more interrupted the reader warmly:\n\"This is exasperating. Now what resemblance is there between the\nvagaries of a hysterical, weak-minded woman, and my case?\"\n\nHe smiled, and again read:\n\n \"The numerous stories told of ghosts, or the spirits of persons\n who are dead, will in most instances be found to have originated\n in diseased imagination, aggravated by some abnormal defect of\n mind. We may mention a remarkable case in point, and one which is\n not mentioned in English works on this subject; it is told by a\n compiler of Les Causes Celebres. Two young noblemen, the\n Marquises De Rambouillet and De Precy, belonging to two of the\n first families of France, made an agreement, in the warmth of\n their friendship, that the one who died first should return to\n the other with tidings of the world to come. Soon afterwards De\n Rambouillet went to the wars in Flanders, while De Precy remained\n at Paris, stricken by a fever. Lying alone in bed, and severely\n ill, De Precy one day heard a rustling of his bed curtains, and\n turning round, saw his friend De Rambouillet, in full military\n attire. The sick man sprung over the bed to welcome his friend,\n but the other receded, and said that he had come to fulfill his\n promise, having been killed on that very day. He further said\n that it behooved De Precy to think more of the afterworld, as all\n that was said of it was true, and as he himself would die in his\n first battle. De Precy was then left by the phantom; and it was\n afterward found that De Rambouillet had fallen on that day.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" I said, \"and so the phantom predicted an event that followed as\nindicated.\"\n\n\"Spiritual illusions,\" explained the Professor, \"are not unusual, and\nwell authenticated cases are not wanting in which they have been induced\nin persons of intelligence by functional or organic disorders. In the\nlast case cited, the prediction was followed by a fulfillment, but this\nwas chance or mere coincidence. It would be strange indeed if in the\nmultitude of dreams that come to humanity, some few should not be\nfollowed by events so similar as to warrant the belief that they were\nprefigured. But here is an illustration that fits your case: let me read\nit:\n\n \"In some instances it may be difficult to decide whether spectral\n appearances and spectral noises proceed from physical derangement\n or from an overwrought state of mind. Want of exercise and\n amusement may also be a prevailing cause. A friend mentions to us\n the following case: An acquaintance of his, a merchant, in\n London, who had for years paid very close attention to business,\n was one day, while alone in his counting house, very much\n surprised to hear, as he imagined, persons outside the door\n talking freely about him. Thinking it was some acquaintances who\n were playing off a trick, he opened the door to request them to\n come in, when to his amazement, he found that nobody was there.\n He again sat down to his desk, and in a few minutes the same\n dialogue recommenced. The language was very alarming. One voice\n seemed to say: 'We have the scoundrel in his own counting house;\n let us go in and seize him.' 'Certainly,' replied the other\n voice, 'it is right to take him; he has been guilty of a great\n crime, and ought to be brought to condign punishment.' Alarmed\n at these threats, the bewildered merchant rushed to the door; and\n there again no person was to be seen. He now locked his door and\n went home; but the voices, as he thought, followed him through\n the crowd, and he arrived at his house in a most unenviable state\n of mind. Inclined to ascribe the voices to derangement in mind,\n he sent for a medical attendant, and told his case, and a certain\n kind of treatment was prescribed. This, however, failed; the\n voices menacing him with punishment for purely imaginary crimes\n continued, and he was reduced to the brink of despair. At length\n a friend prescribed entire relaxation from business, and a daily\n game of cricket, which, to his great relief, proved an effectual\n remedy. The exercise banished the phantom voices, and they were\n no more heard.\"\n\n\"So you think that I am in need of out-door exercise?\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"And that my experience was illusory, the result of vertigo, or some\ntemporary calenture of the brain?\"\n\n\"To be plain with you, yes.\"\n\n\"But I asked you a while ago if specters or phantoms ever leave tangible\nevidence of their presence.\" The Professor's eyes dilated in\ninterrogation. I continued: \"Well, this one did. After I had followed\nhim out, I found on the table a long, white hair, which I still have,\"\nand producing the little coil from my pocket-book, I handed it to him.\nHe examined it curiously, eyed me furtively, and handed it back with the\ncautious remark:\n\n\"I think you had better commence your exercise at once.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n A SECOND INTERVIEW WITH THE MYSTERIOUS VISITOR.\n\n\nIt is not pleasant to have one's mental responsibility brought in\nquestion, and the result of my interview with Professor Chickering was,\nto put it mildly, unsatisfactory. Not that he had exactly questioned my\nsanity, but it was all too evident that he was disposed to accept my\nstatement of a plain matter-of-fact occurrence with a too liberal\nmodicum of salt. I say \"matter-of-fact occurrence\" in full knowledge of\nthe truth that I myself had at first regarded the whole transaction as a\nfantasia or flight of mind, the result of extreme nervous tension; but\nin the interval succeeding I had abundant opportunity to correlate my\nthoughts, and to bring some sort of order out of the mental and physical\nchaos of that strange, eventful night. True, the preliminary events\nleading up to it were extraordinary; the dismal weather, the depression\nof body and spirit under which I labored, the wild whirl of thought\nkeeping pace with the elements--in short, a general concatenation of\nevents that seemed to be ordered especially for the introduction of some\nabnormal visitor--the night would indeed have been incomplete without a\nghost! But was it a ghost? There was nothing ghostly about my visitor,\nexcept the manner of his entrance and exit. In other respects, he seemed\nsubstantial enough. He was, in his manners, courteous and polished as a\nChesterfield; learned as a savant in his conversation; human in his\nthoughtful regard of my fears and misgivings; but that tremendous\nforehead, with its crown of silver hair, the long, translucent beard of\npearly whiteness, and above all the astounding facility with which he\nread my hidden thoughts--these were not natural.\n\nThe Professor had been patient with me--I had a right to expect that; he\nwas entertaining to the extent of reading such excerpts as he had with\nhim on the subject of hallucinations and their supposed causes, but had\nhe not spoiled all by assigning me at last to a place with the\nquestionable, unbalanced characters he had cited? I thought so, and the\nreflection provoked me; and this thought grew upon me until I came to\nregard his stories and attendant theories as so much literary trash.\n\nMy own reflections had been sober and deliberate, and had led me to seek\na rational explanation of the unusual phenomena. I had gone to Professor\nChickering for a certain measure of sympathy, and what was more to the\npoint, to secure his suggestions and assistance in the further\nunraveling of a profound mystery that might contain a secret of untold\nuse to humanity. Repulsed by the mode in which my confidence had been\nreceived, I decided to do what I should have done from the outset--to\nkeep my own counsel, and to follow alone the investigation to the end,\nno matter what the result might be. I could not forget or ignore the\nsilver hair I had so religiously preserved. That was genuine; it was as\ntangible, as real, as convincing a witness as would have been the entire\nhead of my singular visitant, whatever might be his nature.\n\nI began to feel at ease the moment my course was decided, and the\nfeeling was at once renewed within me that the gray head would come\nagain, and by degrees that expectation ripened into a desire, only\nintensified as the days sped by. The weeks passed into months; summer\ncame and went; autumn was fast fading, but the mysterious unknown did\nnot appear. A curious fancy led me now to regard him as my friend, for\nthe mixed and indefinite feelings I felt at first towards him had almost\nunaccountably been changed to those of sincere regard. He was not always\nin my thoughts, for I had abundant occupation at all times to keep both\nbrain and hands busy, but there were few evenings in which I did not,\njust before retiring, give myself up for a brief period to quiet\ncommunion with my own thoughts, and I must confess at such times the\nunknown occupied the larger share of attention. The constant\ncontemplation of any theme begets a feeling of familiarity or\nacquaintance with the same, and if that subject be an individual, as in\nthe present instance, such contemplation lessens the liability to\nsurprise from any unexpected development. In fact, I not only\nanticipated a visit, but courted it. The old Latin maxim that I had\nplayed with, \"Never less alone than when alone\" had domiciled itself\nwithin my brain as a permanent lodger--a conviction, a feeling rather\nthan a thought defined, and I had but little difficulty in associating\nan easy-chair which I had come to place in a certain position for my\nexpected visitor, with his presence.\n\nIndian summer had passed, and the fall was nearly gone when for some\ninexplicable reason the number seven began to haunt me. What had I to do\nwith seven, or seven with me? When I sat down at night this persistent\nnumber mixed itself in my thoughts, to my intense annoyance. Bother take\nthe mystic numeral! What was I to do with seven? I found myself asking\nthis question audibly one evening, when it suddenly occurred to me that\nI would refer to the date of my friend's visit. I kept no journal, but\nreference to a record of some business transactions that I had\nassociated with that event showed that it took place on November\nseventh. That settled the importunate seven! I should look for whomever\nhe was on the first anniversary of his visit, which was the seventh, now\nclose at hand. The instant I had reached this conclusion the number left\nme, and troubled me no more.\n\nNovember third had passed, the fourth, and the fifth had come, when a\nstubborn, protesting notion entered my mind that I was yielding to a\nsuperstitious idea, and that it was time to control my vacillating will.\nAccordingly on this day I sent word to a friend that, if agreeable to\nhim, I would call on him on the evening of the seventh for a short\nsocial chat, but as I expected to be engaged until later than usual,\nwould he excuse me if I did not reach his apartments until ten? The\nrequest was singular, but as I was now accounted somewhat odd, it\nexcited no comment, and the answer was returned, requesting me to come.\nThe seventh of November came at last. I was nervous during the day,\nwhich seemed to drag tediously, and several times it was remarked of me\nthat I seemed abstracted and ill at ease, but I held my peace. Night\ncame cold and clear, and the stars shone brighter than usual, I thought.\nIt was a sharp contrast to the night of a year ago. I took an early\nsupper, for which I had no appetite, after which I strolled aimlessly\nabout the streets, revolving how I should put in the time till ten\no'clock, when I was to call upon my friend. I decided to go to the\ntheater, and to the theater I went. The play was spectacular, \"Aladdin;\nor, The Wonderful Lamp.\" The entertainment, to me, was a flat failure,\nfor I was busy with my thoughts, and it was not long until my thoughts\nwere busy with me, and I found myself attempting to answer a series of\nquestions that finally became embarrassing. \"Why did you make an\nappointment for ten o'clock instead of eight, if you wished to keep away\nfrom your apartments?\" I hadn't thought of that before; it was stupid to\na degree, if not ill-mannered, and I frankly admitted as much. \"Why did\nyou make an appointment at all, in the face of the fact that you not\nonly expected a visitor, but were anxious to meet him?\" This was easily\nanswered: because I did not wish to yield to what struck me as\nsuperstition. \"But do you expect to extend your call until morning?\"\nWell, no, I hadn't thought or arranged to do so. \"Well, then, what is to\nprevent your expected guest from awaiting your return? Or, what\nassurance have you that he will not encounter you in the street, under\ncircumstances that will provoke or, at the least, embarrass you?\" None\nwhatever. \"Then what have you gained by your stupid perversity?\"\nNothing, beyond the assertion of my own individuality. \"Why not go home\nand receive your guest in becoming style?\" No; I would not do that. I\nhad started on this course, and I would persevere in it. I would be\nconsistent. And so I persisted, at least until nine o'clock, when I quit\nthe theater in sullen dejection, and went home to make some slight\npreparation for my evening call.\n\nWith my latch-key I let myself into the front door of the apartment\nhouse wherein I lodged, walked through the hall, up the stair-case, and\npaused on the threshold of my room, wondering what I would find inside.\nOpening the door I entered, leaving it open behind me so that the light\nfrom the hall-way would shine into the room, which was dark, and there\nwas no transom above the door. The grate fire had caked into a solid\nmass of charred bituminous coal, which shed no illumination beyond a\nfaint red glow at the bottom, showing that it was barely alive, and no\nmore. I struck a match on the underside of the mantel shelf, and as I\nlit the gas I heard the click of the door latch. I turned instantly; the\ndoor had been gently closed by some unknown force if not by unseen\nhands, for there was no breath of air stirring. This preternatural\ninterference was not pleasant, for I had hoped in the event of another\nvisit from my friend, if friend he was, that he would bring no uncanny\nor ghostly manifestation to disturb me. I looked at the clock; the index\npointed to half past nine. I glanced about the room; it was orderly,\neverything in proper position, even to the arm-chair that I had been\nwont to place for my nondescript visitor. It was time to be going, so I\nturned to the dressing case, brushed my hair, put on a clean scarf, and\nmoved towards the wash-stand, which stood in a little alcove on the\nopposite side of the room. My self-command well-nigh deserted me as I\ndid so, for there, in the arm-chair that a moment before was empty, sat\nmy guest of a year ago, facing me with placid features! The room began\nto revolve, a faint, sick feeling came over me, and I reeled into the\nfirst convenient chair, and covered my face with my hands. This\ndepression lasted but an instant, however, and as I recovered\nself-possession, I felt or fancied I felt a pair of penetrating eyes\nfixed upon me with the same mild, searching gaze I remembered so well. I\nventured to look up; sure enough, there they were, the beaming eyes, and\nthere was he! Rising from his chair, he towered up to his full height,\nsmiled pleasantly, and with a slight inclination of the head, murmured:\n\"Permit me to wish you good evening; I am profoundly glad to meet you\nagain.\"\n\nIt was full a minute before I could muster courage to answer: \"I wish I\ncould say as much for myself.\"\n\n\"And why shouldn't you?\" he said, gently and courteously; \"you have\nrealized, for the past six months, that I would return; more than\nthat--you have known for some time the very day and almost the exact\nhour of my coming, have even wished for it, and, in the face of all\nthis, I find you preparing to evade the requirements of common\nhospitality;--are you doing either me or yourself justice?\"\n\nI was nettled at the knowledge he displayed of my movements, and of my\nvery thoughts; my old stubbornness asserted itself, and I was rude\nenough to say: \"Perhaps it is as you say; at all events, I am obligated\nto keep an engagement, and with your permission will now retire.\"\n\nIt was curious to mark the effect of this speech upon the intruder. He\nimmediately became grave, reached quietly into an inner pocket of his\ncoat, drew thence the same glittering, horrible, mysterious knife that\nhad so terrified and bewildered me a year before, and looking me\nsteadily in the eye, said coldly, yet with a certain tone of sadness:\n\"Well, I will not grant permission. It is unpleasant to resort to this\nstyle of argument, but I do it to save time and controversy.\"\n\nI stepped back in terror, and reached for the old-fashioned bell-cord,\nwith the heavy tassel at the end, that depended from the ceiling, and\nwas on the point of grasping and giving it a vigorous pull.\n\n\"Not so fast, if you please,\" he said, sternly, as he stepped forward,\nand gave the knife a rapid swish through the air above my head, causing\nthe cord to fall in a tangle about my hand, cut cleanly, high above my\nreach!\n\nI gazed in dumb stupor at the rope about my hand, and raised my eyes to\nthe remnant above. That was motionless; there was not the slightest\nperceptible vibration, such as would naturally be expected. I turned to\nlook at my guest; he had resumed his seat, and had also regained his\npleasant expression, but he still held the knife in his hand with his\narm extended, at rest, upon the table, which stood upon his right.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE SAME GLITTERING, MYSTERIOUS KNIFE.\"]\n\n\"Let us have an end to this folly,\" he said; \"think a moment, and you\nwill see that you are in fault. Your error we will rectify easily, and\nthen to business. I will first show you the futility of trying to escape\nthis interview, and then we will proceed to work, for time presses, and\nthere is much to do.\" Having delivered this remark, he detached a single\nsilvery hair from his head, blew it from his fingers, and let it float\ngently upon the upturned edge of the knife, which was still resting on\nthe table. The hair was divided as readily as had been the bell-cord. I\nwas transfixed with astonishment, for he had evidently aimed to exhibit\nthe quality of the blade, though he made no allusion to the feat, but\nsmilingly went on with his discourse: \"It is just a year ago to-night\nsince we first met. Upon that occasion you made an agreement with me\nwhich you are in honor bound to keep, and--\" here he paused as if to note\nthe effect of his words upon me, then added significantly--\"will keep. I\nhave been at some pains to impress upon your mind the fact that I\nwould be here to-night. You responded, and knew that I was coming, and\nyet in obedience to a silly whim, deliberately made a meaningless\nengagement with no other purpose than to violate a solemn obligation. I\nnow insist that you keep your prior engagement with me, but I do not\nwish that you should be rude to your friend, so you had better write him\na polite note excusing yourself, and dispatch it at once.\"\n\nI saw that he was right, and that there was no shadow of justification\nfor my conduct, or at least I was subdued by his presence, so I wrote\nthe note without delay, and was casting about for some way to send it,\nwhen he said: \"Fold it, seal it, and address it; you seem to forget what\nis proper.\" I did as he directed, mechanically, and, without thinking\nwhat I was doing, handed it to him. He took it naturally, glanced at the\nsuperscription, went to the door which he opened slightly, and handed\nthe billet as if to some messenger who seemed to be in waiting\noutside,--then closed and locked the door. Turning toward me with the\napparent object of seeing if I was looking, he deftly drew his knife\ntwice across the front of the door-knob, making a deep cross, and then\ndeposited the knife in his pocket, and resumed his seat.[2]\n\n [2] I noted afterward that the door-knob, which was of solid\n metal, was cut deeply, as though made of putty.\n\nAs soon as he was comfortably seated, he again began the conversation:\n\"Now that we have settled the preliminaries, I will ask if you remember\nwhat I required of you a year ago?\" I thought that I did. \"Please repeat\nit; I wish to make sure that you do, then we will start fair.\"\n\n\"In the first place, you were to present me with a manuscript--\"\n\n\"Hardly correct,\" he interrupted; \"I was to acquaint you with a\nnarrative which is already in manuscript, acquaint you with it, read it\nto you, if you preferred not to read it to me--\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon,\" I answered; \"that is correct. You were to read the\nmanuscript to me, and during the reading I was to interpose such\ncomments, remarks, or objections, as seemed proper; to embody as\ninterludes, in the manuscript, as my own interpolations, however, and\nnot as part of the original.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" he replied, \"you have the idea exactly; proceed.\"\n\n\"I agreed that when the reading had been completed, I would seal the\ncomplete manuscript securely, deposit it in some safe place, there to\nremain for thirty years, when it must be published.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"DREW HIS KNIFE TWICE ACROSS THE FRONT OF THE\nDOOR-KNOB.\"]\n\n\"Just so,\" he answered; \"we understand each other as we should. Before\nwe proceed further, however, can you think of any point on which you\nneed enlightenment? If so, ask such questions as you choose, and I will\nanswer them.\"\n\nI thought for a moment, but no query occurred to me; after a pause he\nsaid: \"Well, if you think of nothing now, perhaps hereafter questions\nwill occur to you which you can ask; but as it is late, and you are\ntired, we will not commence now. I will see you just one week from\nto-night, when we will begin. From that time on, we will follow the\nsubject as rapidly as you choose, but see to it that you make no\nengagements that will interfere with our work, for I shall be more\nexacting in the future.\" I promised, and he rose to go. A sudden impulse\nseized me, and I said: \"May I ask one question?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\n\"What shall I call you?\"\n\n\"Why call me aught? It is not necessary in addressing each other that\nany name be used.\"\n\n\"But what are you?\" I persisted.\n\nA pained expression for an instant rested upon his face, and he said,\nsadly, pausing between the words: \"I--Am--The--Man Who--Did--It.\"\n\n\"Did what?\"\n\n\"Ask not; the manuscript will tell you. Be content, Llewellyn, and\nremember this, that I--Am--The--Man.\"\n\nSo saying he bade me good night, opened the door, and disappeared down\nthe broad stair-case.\n\nOne week thereafter he appeared promptly, seated himself, and producing\na roll of manuscript, handed it to me, saying, \"I am listening; you may\nbegin to read.\"\n\nOn examination I found each page to be somewhat larger than a sheet of\nletter paper, with the written matter occupying a much smaller space, so\nas to leave a wide white border. One hundred pages were in the package.\nThe last sentence ending abruptly indicated that my guest did not expect\nto complete his task in one evening, and, I may anticipate by saying\nthat with each successive interview he drew about the same amount of\nwriting from his bosom. Upon attempting to read the manuscript I at\nfirst found myself puzzled by a style of chirography very peculiar and\ncharacteristic, but execrably bad. Vainly did I attempt to read it; even\nthe opening sentence was not deciphered without long inspection and\ngreat difficulty.\n\nThe old man, whom I had promised that I would fulfill the task,\nobserving my discomfiture, relieved me of the charge, and without a word\nof introduction, read fluently as follows:\n\n\n\n\nTHE MANUSCRIPT OF I--AM--THE--MAN.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n A SEARCH FOR KNOWLEDGE.--THE ALCHEMISTIC LETTER.\n\n\nI am the man who, unfortunately for my future happiness, was\ndissatisfied with such knowledge as could be derived from ordinary books\nconcerning semi-scientific subjects in which I had long been absorbed. I\nstudied the current works of my day on philosophy and chemistry, hoping\ntherein to find something tangible regarding the relationship that\nexists between matter and spirit, but studied in vain. Astronomy,\nhistory, philosophy and the mysterious, incoherent works of alchemy and\noccultism were finally appealed to, but likewise failed to satisfy me.\nThese studies were pursued in secret, though I am not aware that any\nnecessity existed for concealment. Be that as it may, at every\nopportunity I covertly acquainted myself with such alchemical lore as\ncould be obtained either by purchase or by correspondence with others\nwhom I found to be pursuing investigations in the same direction. A\ntranslation of Geber's \"De Claritate Alchemiae,\" by chance came into my\npossession, and afterwards an original version from the Latin of\nBoerhaave's \"Elementa Chemiae,\" published and translated in 1753 by\nPeter Shaw. This magnificent production threw a flood of light upon the\nearly history of chemistry, being far more elaborate than any modern\nwork. It inspired me with the deepest regard for its talented author,\nand ultimately introduced me to a brotherhood of adepts, for in this\npublication, although its author disclaims occultism, is to be found a\ntalisman that will enable any earnest searcher after light to become a\nmember of the society of secret \"Chemical Improvers of Natural\nPhilosophy,\" with which I affiliated as soon as the key was discovered.\nThen followed a systematic investigation of authorities of the\nAlchemical School, including Geber, Morienus, Roger Bacon, George\nRipley, Raymond Lully, Bernard, Count of Trevise, Isaac Hollandus,\nArnoldus de la Villanova, Paracelsus, and others, not omitting the\nlearned researches of the distinguished scientist, Llewellyn.\n\n[Illustration: FAC-SIMILE OF PAGE OF MANUSCRIPT.]\n\nI discovered that many talented men are still firm believers in the lost\nart of alchemy, and that among the followers of the \"thrice-famed\nHermes\" are to be found statesmen, clergymen, lawyers, and scientific\nmen who, for various reasons, invariably conceal with great tact their\nconnection with the fraternity of adepts. Some of these men had written\nscientific treatises of a very different character from those\ncirculating among the members of our brotherhood, and to their\nmaterialistic readers it would seem scarcely possible that the authors\ncould be tainted with hallucinations of any description, while others,\nconspicuous leaders in the church, were seemingly beyond occult\ntemptation.\n\nThe larger number, it was evident, hoped by studies of the works of the\nalchemists, to find the key to the alkahest of Van Helmont, that is, to\ndiscover the Philosopher's Stone, or the Elixir of Life, and from their\nwritings it is plain that the inner consciousness of thoughtful and\nscientific men rebelled against confinement to the narrow bounds of\nmaterialistic science, within which they were forced to appear as\ndogmatic pessimists. To them scientific orthodoxy, acting as a weight,\nprohibited intellectual speculation, as rank heresy. A few of my\nco-laborers were expert manipulators, and worked experimentally,\nfollowing in their laboratories the suggestions of those gifted students\nwho had pored over precious old manuscripts, and had attempted to solve\nthe enigmatical formulas recorded therein, puzzles familiar to students\nof Hermetic lore. It was thus demonstrated,--for what I have related is\nhistory,--that in this nineteenth century there exists a fraternity, the\nmembers of which are as earnest in their belief in the truth of Esoteric\nphilosophy, as were the followers of Hermes himself; savants who, in\nsecret, circulate among themselves a literature that the materialism of\nthis selfsame nineteenth century has relegated to the deluded and murky\nperiods that produced it.\n\nOne day a postal package came to my address, this being the manner in\nwhich some of our literature circulated, which, on examination, I\nfound to be a letter of instruction and advice from some unknown member\nof our circle. I was already becoming disheartened over the mental\nconfusion into which my studies were leading me, and the contents of the\nletter, in which I was greatly interested, made a lasting impression\nupon me. It seemed to have been circulating a long time among our\nmembers in Europe and America, for it bore numerous marginal notes of\nvarious dates, but each and every one of its readers had for one reason\nor another declined the task therein suggested. From the substance of\nthe paper, which, written exquisitely, yet partook of the ambiguous\nalchemistic style, it was evident that the author was well versed in\nalchemy, and, in order that my position may be clearly understood at\nthis turning point in a life of remarkable adventure, the letter is\nappended in full:\n\n THE ALCHEMISTIC LETTER.\n\n TO THE BROTHER ADEPT WHO DARES TRY TO DISCOVER ZOROASTER'S CAVE,\n OR THE PHILOSOPHER'S INTELLECTUAL ECHOES, BY MEANS OF WHICH THEY\n COMMUNICATE TO ONE ANOTHER FROM THEIR CAVES.\n\n Know thou, that Hermes Trismegistus did not originate, but he\n gave to our philosophy his name--the Hermetic Art. Evolved in a\n dim, mystic age, before antiquity began, it endured through the\n slowly rolling cycles to be bandied about by the ever-ready\n flippancy of nineteenth century students. It has lived, because\n it is endowed with that quality which never dies--truth. Modern\n philosophy, of which chemistry is but a fragment, draws its\n sustenance from the prime facts which were revealed in ancient\n Egypt through Hermetic thought, and fixed by the Hermetic stylus.\n\n \"The Hermetic allegories,\" so various in interpretable\n susceptibility, led subsequent thinkers into speculations and\n experimentations, which have resulted profitably to the world. It\n is not strange that some of the followers of Hermes, especially\n the more mercurial and imaginative, should have evolved nebulous\n theories, no longer explainable, and involving recondite\n spiritual considerations. Know thou that the ultimate on\n psycho-chemical investigation is the proximate of the infinite.\n Accordingly, a class came to believe that a projection of natural\n mental faculties into an advanced state of consciousness called\n the \"wisdom faculty\" constitutes the final possibility of\n Alchemy. The attainment of this exalted condition is still\n believed practicable by many earnest savants. Once on this lofty\n plane, the individual would not be trammelled by material\n obstacles, but would abide in that spiritual placidity which is\n the exquisite realization of mortal perfection. So exalted, he\n would be in naked parallelism with Omniscience, and through his\n illuminated understanding, could feast his soul on those exalted\n pleasures which are only less than deific.\n\n Notwithstanding the exploitings of a number of these\n philosophers, in which, by reason of our inability to comprehend,\n sense seemed lost in a passage of incohesive dreamery and\n resonancy of terminology, some of the purest spiritual researches\n the world has ever known, were made in the dawn of history. The\n much abused alchemical philosophers existed upon a plane, in some\n respects above the level of the science of to-day. Many of them\n lived for the good of the world only, in an atmosphere above the\n materialistic hordes that people the world, and toiling over\n their crucibles and alembics, died in their cells \"uttering no\n voice.\" Take, for example, Eirenaeus Philalethes, who, born in\n 1623, lived contemporaneously with Robert Boyle. A fragment from\n his writings will illustrate the purpose which impelled the\n searcher for the true light of alchemy to record his discoveries\n in allegories, and we have no right to question the honesty of\n his utterances:\n\n \"The Searcher of all hearts knows that I write the truth; nor is\n there any cause to accuse me of envy. I write with an unterrified\n quill in an unheard of style, to the honor of God, to the profit\n of my neighbors, with contempt of the world and its riches,\n because Elias, the artist, is already born, and now glorious\n things are declared of the city of God. I dare affirm that I do\n possess more riches than the whole known world is worth, but I\n can not make use of it because of the snares of knaves. I\n disdain, loathe, and detest the idolizing of silver and gold, by\n which the pomps and vanities of the world are celebrated. Ah!\n filthy evil! Ah! vain nothingness! Believe ye that I conceal the\n art out of envy? No, verily, I protest to you; I grieve from the\n very bottom of my soul that we (alchemists) are driven like\n vagabonds from the face of the Lord throughout the earth. But\n what need of many words? The thing that we have seen, taught, and\n made, which we have, possess, and know, that we do declare; being\n moved with compassion for the studious, and with indignation of\n gold, silver, and precious stones. Believe me, the time is at the\n door, I feel it in spirit, when we, adeptists, shall return from\n the four corners of the earth, nor shall we fear any snares that\n are laid against our lives, but we shall give thanks to the Lord\n our God. I would to God that every ingenious man in the whole\n earth understood this science; then it would be valued only for\n its wisdom, and virtue only would be had in honor.\"\n\n Of course there was a more worldly class, and a large contingent\n of mercenary impostors (as science is always encumbered),\n parasites, whose animus was shamefully unlike the purity of true\n esoteric psychologists. These men devoted their lives to\n experimentation for selfish advancement. They constructed\n alchemical outfits, and carried on a ceaseless inquiry into the\n nature of solvents, and studied their influences on earthly\n bodies, their ultimate object being the discovery of the\n Philosopher's Stone, and the alkahest which Boerhaave asserts\n was never discovered. Their records were often a verbose melange,\n purposely so written, no doubt, to cover their tracks, and to\n make themselves conspicuous. Other Hermetic believers occupied a\n more elevated position, and connected the intellectual with the\n material, hoping to gain by their philosophy and science not only\n gold and silver, which were secondary considerations, but the\n highest literary achievement, the Magnum Opus. Others still\n sought to draw from Astrology and Magic the secrets that would\n lead them to their ambitious goal. Thus there were degrees of\n fineness in a fraternity, which the science of to-day must\n recognize and admit.\n\n Boerhaave, the illustrious, respected Geber, of the alchemistic\n school, and none need feel compromised in admiring the talented\n alchemists who, like Geber, wrought in the twilight of morn for\n the coming world's good. We are now enjoying a fragment of the\n ultimate results of their genius and industry in the\n materialistic outcomes of present-day chemistry, to be followed\n by others more valuable; and at last, when mankind is ripe in the\n wisdom faculty, by spiritual contentment in the complacent\n furtherings beyond. Allow me briefly to refer to a few men of the\n alchemistic type whose records may be considered with advantage.\n\n Rhasis, a conspicuous alchemist, born in 850, first mentioned\n orpiment, borax, compounds of iron, copper, arsenic, and other\n similar substances. It is said, too, that he discovered the art\n of making brandy. About a century later, Alfarabe (killed in\n 950), a great alchemist, astonished the King of Syria with his\n profound learning, and excited the admiration of the wise men of\n the East by his varied accomplishments. Later, Albertus Magnus\n (born 1205), noted for his talent and skill, believed firmly in\n the doctrine of transmutation. His beloved pupil, Thomas Aquinas,\n gave us the word amalgam, and it still serves us.\n Contemporaneously with these lived Roger Bacon (born 1214), who\n was a man of most extraordinary ability. There has never been a\n greater English intellect (not excepting his illustrious\n namesake, Lord Bacon), and his penetrating mind delved deeper\n into nature's laws than that of any successor. He told us of\n facts concerning the sciences, that scientific men can not fully\n comprehend to-day; he told us of other things that lie beyond the\n science provings of to-day, that modern philosophers can not\n grasp. He was an enthusiastic believer in the Hermetic\n philosophy, and such were his erudition and advanced views, that\n his brother friars, through jealousy and superstition, had him\n thrown into prison--a common fate to men who in those days dared\n to think ahead of their age. Despite (as some would say) of his\n mighty reasoning power and splendid attainments, he believed the\n Philosopher's Stone to be a reality; he believed the secret of\n indefinite prolongation of life abode in alchemy; that the future\n could be predicted by means of a mirror which he called\n Almuchese, and that by alchemy an adept could produce pure gold.\n He asserted that by means of Aristotle's \"Secret of Secrets,\"\n pure gold can be made; gold even purer and finer than what men\n now know as gold. In connection with other predictions he made an\n assertion that may with other seemingly unreasonable predictions\n be verified in time to come. He said: \"It is equally possible to\n construct cars which may be set in motion with marvelous\n rapidity, independently of horses or other animals.\" He declared\n that the ancients had done this, and he believed the art might be\n revived.\n\n Following came various enthusiasts, such as Raymond, the\n ephemeral (died 1315), who flared like a meteor into his brief,\n brilliant career; Arnold de Villanova (1240), a celebrated adept,\n whose books were burned by the Inquisition on account of the\n heresy they taught; Nicholas Flamel, of France (1350), loved by\n the people for his charities, the wonder of his age (our age will\n not admit the facts) on account of the vast fortune he amassed\n without visible means or income, outside of alchemical lore;\n Johannes de Rupecissus, a man of such remarkable daring that he\n even (1357) reprimanded Pope Innocent VI., for which he was\n promptly imprisoned; Basil Valentine (1410), the author of many\n works, and the man who introduced antimony (antimonaches) into\n medicine; Isaac of Holland who, with his son, skillfully made\n artificial gems that could not be distinguished from the natural;\n Bernard Trevison (born 1406), who spent $30,000 in the study of\n alchemy, out of much of which he was cheated by cruel alchemic\n pretenders, for even in that day there were plenty of rogues to\n counterfeit a good thing. Under stress of his strong alchemic\n convictions, Thomas Dalton placed his head on the block by order\n of the virtuous (?) and conservative Thomas Herbert, 'squire to\n King Edward; Jacob Bohme (born 1575), the sweet, pure spirit of\n Christian mysticism, \"The Voice of Heaven,\" than whom none stood\n higher in true alchemy, was a Christian, alchemist, theosophist;\n Robert Boyle, a conspicuous alchemical philosopher, in 1662\n published his \"Defense of the Doctrine touching the Spring and\n Weight of the Air,\" and illustrated his arguments by a series of\n ingenious and beautiful experiments, that stand to-day so high in\n the estimation of scientific men, that his remarks are copied\n verbatim by our highest authorities, and his apparatus is the\n best yet devised for the purpose. Boyle's \"Law\" was evolved and\n carefully defined fourteen years before Mariotte's \"Discours de\n la Nature de l'Air\" appeared, which did not, however, prevent\n French and German scientific men from giving the credit to\n Mariotte, and they still follow the false teacher who boldly\n pirated not only Boyle's ideas, but stole his apparatus.\n\n Then appeared such men as Paracelsus (born 1493), the celebrated\n physician, who taught that occultism (esoteric philosophy) was\n superior to experimental chemistry in enlightening us concerning\n the transmutation of baser metals into gold and silver; and\n Gueppo Francisco (born 1627), who wrote a beautiful treatise on\n \"Elementary Spirits,\" which was copied without credit by Compte\n de Gabalis. It seems incredible that the man (Gueppo Francisco),\n whose sweet spirit-thoughts are revivified and breathe anew in\n \"Undine\" and \"The Rape of the Lock,\" should have been thrown into\n a prison to perish as a Hermetic follower; and this should teach\n us not to question the earnestness of those who left us as a\n legacy the beauty and truth so abundantly found in pure alchemy.\n\n These and many others, cotemporaries, some conspicuous, and\n others whose names do not shine in written history, contributed\n incalculably to the grand aggregate of knowledge concerning the\n divine secret which enriched the world. Compare the benefits of\n Hermetic philosophy with the result of bloody wars ambitiously\n waged by self-exacting tyrants--tyrants whom history applauds as\n heroes, but whom we consider as butchers. Among the workers in\n alchemy are enumerated nobles, kings, and even popes. Pope John\n XXII. was an alchemist, which accounts for his bull against\n impostors, promulgated in order that true students might not be\n discredited; and King Frederick of Naples sanctioned the art, and\n protected its devotees.\n\n At last, Count Cagliostro, the chequered \"Joseph Balsamo\" (born\n 1743), who combined alchemy, magic, astrology, sleight of hand,\n mesmerism, Free Masonry, and remarkable personal accomplishments,\n that altogether have never since been equalled, burst upon the\n world. Focusing the gaze of the church, kings, and the commons\n upon himself, in many respects the most audacious pretender that\n history records, he raised the Hermetic art to a dazzling height,\n and finally buried it in a blaze of splendor as he passed from\n existence beneath a mantle of shame. As a meteor streams into\n view from out the star mists of space, and in corruscating glory\n sinks into the sea, Cagliostro blazed into the sky of the\n eighteenth century, from the nebulae of alchemistic speculation,\n and extinguished both himself and his science in the light of the\n rising sun of materialism. Cagliostro the visionary, the poet,\n the inspired, the erratic comet in the universe of intellect,\n perished in prison as a mountebank, and then the plodding chemist\n of to-day, with his tedious mechanical methods, and cold,\n unresponsive, materialistic dogmas, arose from the ashes, and\n sprang into prominence.\n\n Read the story backward, and you shall see that in alchemy we\n behold the beginning of all the sciences of to-day; alchemy is\n the cradle that rocked them. Fostered with necromancy, astrology,\n occultism, and all the progeny of mystic dreamery, the infant\n sciences struggled for existence through the dark ages, in care\n of the once persecuted and now traduced alchemist. The world owes\n a monument to-day more to Hermetic heroes, than to all other\n influences and instrumentalities, religion excepted, combined,\n for our present civilization is largely a legacy from the\n alchemist. Begin with Hermes Trismegistus, and close with Joseph\n Balsamo, and if you are inclined towards science, do not\n criticise too severely their verbal logorrhea, and their\n romanticism, for your science is treading backward; it will\n encroach upon their field again, and you may have to unsay your\n words of hasty censure. These men fulfilled their mission, and\n did it well. If they told more than men now think they knew, they\n also knew more than they told, and more than modern philosophy\n embraces. They could not live to see all the future they eagerly\n hoped for, but they started a future for mankind that will far\n exceed in sweetness and light the most entrancing visions of\n their most imaginative dreamers. They spoke of the existence of a\n \"red elixir,\" and while they wrote, the barbarous world about\n them ran red with blood,--blood of the pure in heart, blood of\n the saints, blood of a Saviour; and their allegory and wisdom\n formulae were recorded in blood of their own sacrifices. They\n dreamed of a \"white elixir\" that is yet to bless mankind, and a\n brighter day for man, a period of peace, happiness, long life,\n contentment, good will and brotherly love, and in the name of\n this \"white elixir\" they directed the world towards a vision of\n divine light. Even pure gold, as they told the materialistic\n world who worship gold, was penetrated and whelmed by this\n subtle, superlatively refined spirit of matter. Is not the day of\n the allegorical \"white elixir\" nearly at hand? Would that it\n were!\n\n I say to you now, brothers of the eighteenth century, as one\n speaking by authority to you, cease (some of you) to study this\n entrancing past, look to the future by grasping the present, cast\n aside (some of you) the alchemical lore of other days, give up\n your loved allegories; it is a duty, you must relinquish them.\n There is a richer field. Do not delay. Unlock this mystic door\n that stands hinged and ready, waiting the touch of men who can\n interpret the talisman; place before mankind the knowledge that\n lies behind its rivets. In the secret lodges that have preserved\n the wisdom of the days of Enoch and Elias of Egypt, who\n propagated the Egyptian Order, a branch of your ancient\n brotherhood, is to be found concealed much knowledge that should\n now be spread before the world, and added to the treasures of our\n circle of adepts. This cabalistic wisdom is not recorded in books\n nor in manuscript, but has been purposely preserved from the\n uninitiated, in the unreadable brains of unresponsive men. Those\n who are selected to act as carriers thereof, are, as a rule, like\n dumb water bearers, or the dead sheet of paper that mechanically\n preserves an inspiration derived from minds unseen: they serve a\n purpose as a child mechanically commits to memory a blank verse\n to repeat to others, who in turn commit to repeat again--neither\n of them speaking understandingly. Search ye these hidden paths,\n for the day of mental liberation approaches, and publish to the\n world all that is locked within the doors of that antiquated\n organization. The world is nearly ripe for the wisdom faculty,\n and men are ready to unravel the golden threads that mystic\n wisdom has inwoven in her web of secret knowledge. Look for\n knowledge where I have indicated, and to gain it do not hesitate\n to swear allegiance to this sacred order, for so you must do to\n gain entrance to the brotherhood, and then you must act what men\n will call the traitor. You will, however, be doing a sacred duty,\n for the world will profit, humanity will be the gainer, \"Peace on\n Earth, Good Will to Man,\" will be closer to mankind, and at last,\n when the sign appears, the \"white elixir\" will no longer be\n allegorical; it will become a reality. In the name of the Great\n Mystic Vase-Man, go thou into these lodges, learn of their\n secrets, and spread their treasures before those who can\n interpret them.\n\nHere this letter ended. It was evident that the writer referred to a\nsecret society into which I could probably enter; and taking the advice,\nI did not hesitate, but applied at once for membership. I determined,\nregardless of consequence, to follow the suggestion of the unknown\nwriter, and by so doing, for I accepted their pledges, I invited my\ndestiny.\n\nMy guest of the massive forehead paused for a moment, stroked his long,\nwhite beard, and then, after casting an inquiring glance on me, asked,\n\"Shall I read on?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied, and The--Man--Who--Did--It, proceeded as follows:\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n THE WRITING OF MY CONFESSION.\n\n\nHaving become a member of the Secret Society as directed by the writer\nof the letter I have just read, and having obtained the secrets hinted\nat in the mystic directions, my next desire was to find a secluded spot\nwhere, without interruption, I could prepare for publication what I had\ngathered surreptitiously in the lodges of the fraternity I designed to\nbetray. This I entitled \"My Confession.\" Alas! why did my evil genius\nprompt me to write it? Why did not some kind angel withhold my hand from\nthe rash and wicked deed? All I can urge in defense or palliation is\nthat I was infatuated by the fatal words of the letter, \"You must act\nwhat men will call the traitor, but humanity will be the gainer.\"\n\nIn a section of the state in which I resided, a certain creek forms the\nboundary line between two townships, and also between two counties.\nCrossing this creek, a much traveled road stretches east and west,\nuniting the extremes of the great state. Two villages on this road,\nabout four miles apart, situated on opposite sides of the creek, also\npresent themselves to my memory, and midway between them, on the north\nside of the road, was a substantial farm house. In going west from the\neasternmost of these villages, the traveler begins to descend from the\nvery center of the town. In no place is the grade steep, as the road\nlies between the spurs of the hill abutting upon the valley that feeds\nthe creek I have mentioned. Having reached the valley, the road winds a\nshort distance to the right, then turning to the left, crosses the\nstream, and immediately begins to climb the western hill; here the\nascent is more difficult, for the road lies diagonally over the edge of\nthe hill. A mile of travel, as I recall the scene, sometimes up a steep,\nand again among rich, level farm lands, and then on the very height,\nclose to the road, within a few feet of it, appears the square\nstructure which was, at the time I mention, known as the Stone Tavern.\nOn the opposite side of the road were located extensive stables, and a\ngrain barn. In the northeast chamber of that stone building, during a\nsummer in the twenties, I wrote for publication the description of the\nmystic work that my oath should have made forever a secret, a sacred\ntrust. I am the man who wantonly committed the deplorable act. Under the\ninfatuation of that alchemical manuscript, I strove to show the world\nthat I could and would do that which might never benefit me in the\nleast, but might serve humanity. It was fate. I was not a bad man,\nneither malignity, avarice, nor ambition forming a part of my nature. I\nwas a close student, of a rather retiring disposition, a stone-mason by\ntrade, careless and indifferent to public honors, and so thriftless that\nmany trifling neighborhood debts had accumulated against me.\n\nWhat I have reluctantly told, for I am forbidden to give the names of\nthe localities, comprises an abstract of part of the record of my early\nlife, and will introduce the extraordinary narrative which follows. That\nI have spoken the truth, and in no manner overdrawn, will be silently\nevidenced by hundreds of brethren, both of the occult society and the\nfraternal brotherhood, with which I united, who can (if they will)\ntestify to the accuracy of the narrative. They know the story of my\ncrime and disgrace; only myself and God know the full retribution that\nfollowed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n KIDNAPPED.\n\n\nThe events just narrated occurred in the prime of my life, and are\npartly matters of publicity. My attempted breach of faith in the way of\ndisclosing their secrets was naturally infamous in the eyes of my\nsociety brethren, who endeavored to prevail upon me to relent of my\ndesign which, after writing my \"Confession,\" I made no endeavor to\nconceal. Their importunities and threatenings had generally been\nresisted, however, and with an obliquity that can not be easily\nexplained, I persisted in my unreasonable design. I was blessed as a\nhusband and father, but neither the thought of home, wife, nor child,\nchecked me in my inexplicable course. I was certainly irresponsible,\nperhaps a monomaniac, and yet on the subject in which I was absorbed, I\npreserved my mental equipoise, and knowingly followed a course that\nfinally brought me into the deepest slough of trouble, and lost to me\nforever all that man loves most dearly. An overruling spirit, perhaps\nthe shade of one of the old alchemists, possessed me, and in the face of\nobstacles that would have caused most men to reflect, and retrace their\nsteps, I madly rushed onward. The influence that impelled me, whatever\nit may have been, was irresistible. I apparently acted the part of\nagent, subject to an ever-present master essence, and under this\ndominating spirit or demon my mind was powerless in its subjection. My\nsoul was driven imperiously by that impelling and indescribable\nsomething, and was as passive and irresponsible as lycopodium that is\nborne onward in a steady current of air. Methods were vainly sought by\nthose who loved me, brethren of the lodge, and others who endeavored to\ninduce me to change my headstrong purpose, but I could neither accept\ntheir counsels nor heed their forebodings. Summons by law were served on\nme in order to disconcert me, and my numerous small debts became the\npretext for legal warrants, until at last all my papers (excepting my\n\"Confession\"), and my person also, were seized, upon an execution served\nby a constable. Minor claims were quickly satisfied, but when I regained\nmy liberty, the aggression continued. Even arson was resorted to, and\nthe printing office that held my manuscript was fired one night, that\nthe obnoxious revelation which I persisted in putting into print, might\nbe destroyed. Finally I found myself separated by process of law from\nhome and friends, an inmate of a jail. My opponents, as I now came to\nconsider them, had confined me in prison for a debt of only two dollars,\na sufficient amount at that time, in that state, for my incarceration.\nSmarting under the humiliation, my spirit became still more rebellious,\nand I now, perhaps justly, came to view myself as a martyr. It had been\nat first asserted that I had stolen a shirt, but I was not afraid of any\npenalty that could be laid on me for this trumped-up charge, believing\nthat the imputation and the arrest would be shown to be designed as\nwillful oppression. Therefore it was, that when this contemptible\narraignment had been swept aside, and I was freed before a Justice of\nthe Peace, I experienced more than a little surprise at a rearrest, and\nat finding myself again thrown into jail. I knew that it had been\ndecreed by my brethren that I must retract and destroy my \"Confession,\"\nand this fact made me the more determined to prevent its destruction,\nand I persisted sullenly in pursuing my course. On the evening of August\n12th, 1826, my jailer's wife informed me that the debt for which I had\nbeen incarcerated had been paid by unknown \"friends,\" and that I could\ndepart; and I accepted the statement without question. Upon my stepping\nfrom the door of the jail, however, my arms were firmly grasped by two\npersons, one on each side of me, and before I could realize the fact\nthat I was being kidnapped, I was thrust into a closed coach, which\nimmediately rolled away, but not until I made an outcry which, if heard\nby anyone, was unheeded.\n\n\"For your own sake, be quiet,\" said one of my companions in confinement,\nfor the carriage was draped to exclude the light, and was as dark as a\ndungeon. My spirit rebelled; I felt that I was on the brink of a\nremarkable, perhaps perilous experience, and I indignantly replied by\nasking:\n\n\"What have I done that you should presume forcibly to imprison me? Am I\nnot a freeman of America?\"\n\n\"What have you done?\" he answered. \"Have you not bound yourself by a\nseries of vows that are sacred and should be inviolable, and have you\nnot broken them as no other man has done before you? Have you not\nbetrayed your trust, and merited a severe judgment? Did you not\nvoluntarily ask admission into our ancient brotherhood, and in good\nfaith were you not initiated into our sacred mysteries? Did you not\nobligate yourself before man, and on your sacred honor promise to\npreserve our secrets?\"\n\n\"I did,\" I replied; \"but previously I had sworn before a higher tribunal\nto scatter this precious wisdom to the world.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"and you know full well the depth of the self-sought\nsolemn oath that you took with us--more solemn than that prescribed by\nany open court on earth.\"\n\n\"This I do not deny,\" I said, \"and yet I am glad that I accomplished my\nobject, even though you have now, as is evident, the power to pronounce\nmy sentence.\"\n\n\"You should look for the death sentence,\" was the reply, \"but it has\nbeen ordained instead that you are to be given a lengthened life. You\nshould expect bodily destruction; but on the contrary, you will pass on\nin consciousness of earth and earthly concerns when we are gone. Your\nname will be known to all lands, and yet from this time you will be\nunknown. For the welfare of future humanity, you will be thrust to a\nheight in our order that will annihilate you as a mortal being, and yet\nyou will exist, suspended between life and death, and in that\nintermediate state will know that you exist. You have, as you confess,\nmerited a severe punishment, but we can only punish in accordance with\nan unwritten law, that instructs the person punished, and elevates the\nhuman race in consequence. You stand alone among mortals in that you\nhave openly attempted to give broadly to those who have not earned it,\nour most sacred property, a property that did not belong to you,\nproperty that you have only been permitted to handle, that has been\nhanded from man to man from before the time of Solomon, and which\nbelongs to no one man, and will continue to pass in this way from one to\nanother, as a hallowed trust, until there are no men, as men now exist,\nto receive it. You will soon go into the shadows of darkness, and will\nlearn many of the mysteries of life, the undeveloped mysteries that are\nwithheld from your fellows, but which you, who have been so presumptuous\nand anxious for knowledge, are destined to possess and solve. You will\nfind secrets that man, as man is now constituted, can not yet discover,\nand yet which the future man must gain and be instructed in. As you have\nsowed, so shall you reap. You wished to become a distributor of\nknowledge; you shall now by bodily trial and mental suffering obtain\nunsought knowledge to distribute, and in time to come you will be\ncommanded to make your discoveries known. As your pathway is surely laid\nout, so must you walk. It is ordained; to rebel is useless.\"\n\n\"Who has pronounced this sentence?\" I asked.\n\n\"A judge, neither of heaven nor of earth.\"\n\n\"You speak in enigmas.\"\n\n\"No; I speak openly, and the truth. Our brotherhood is linked with the\npast, and clasps hands with the antediluvians; the flood scattered the\nraces of earth, but did not disturb our secrets. The great love of\nwisdom has from generation to generation led selected members of our\norganization to depths of study that our open work does not touch upon,\nand behind our highest officers there stand, in the occult shades\nbetween the here and the hereafter, unknown and unseen agents who are\ninitiated into secrets above and beyond those known to the ordinary\ncraft. Those who are introduced into these inner recesses acquire\nsuperhuman conceptions, and do not give an open sign of fellowship; they\nneed no talisman. They walk our streets possessed of powers unknown to\nmen, they concern themselves as mortals in the affairs of men, and even\ntheir brethren of the initiated, open order are unaware of their exalted\ncondition. The means by which they have been instructed, their several\nindividualities as well, have been concealed, because publicity would\ndestroy their value, and injure humanity's cause.\"\n\nSilence followed these vague disclosures, and the carriage rolled on. I\nwas mystified and alarmed, and yet I knew that, whatever might be the\nend of this nocturnal ride, I had invited it--yes, merited it--and I\nsteeled myself to hear the sentence of my judges, in whose hands I was\npowerless. The persons on the seat opposite me continued their\nconversation in low tones, audible only to themselves. An individual by\nmy side neither moved nor spoke. There were four of us in the carriage,\nas I learned intuitively, although we were surrounded by utter darkness.\nAt length I addressed the companion beside me, for the silence was\nunbearable. Friend or enemy though he might be, anything rather than\nthis long silence. \"How long shall we continue in this carriage?\"\n\nHe made no reply.\n\nAfter a time I again spoke.\n\n\"Can you not tell me, comrade, how long our journey will last? When\nshall we reach our destination?\"\n\nSilence only.\n\nPutting out my hand, I ventured to touch my mate, and found that he was\ntightly strapped,--bound upright to the seat and the back of the\ncarriage. Leather thongs held him firmly in position; and as I pondered\nover the mystery, I thought to myself, if I make a disturbance, they\nwill not hesitate to manacle me as securely. My custodians seemed,\nhowever, not to exercise a guard over me, and yet I felt that they were\ncertain of my inability to escape. If the man on the seat was a\nprisoner, why was he so reticent? Why did he not answer my questions? I\ncame to the conclusion that he must be gagged as well as bound. Then I\ndetermined to find out if this were so. I began to realize more forcibly\nthat a terrible sentence must have been meted me, and I half hoped that\nI could get from my partner in captivity some information regarding our\ndestination. Sliding my hand cautiously along his chest, and under his\nchin, I intended to remove the gag from his mouth, when I felt my flesh\ncreep, for it came in contact with the cold, rigid flesh of a corpse.\nThe man was dead, and stiff.\n\nThe shock unnerved me. I had begun to experience the results of a severe\nmental strain, partly induced by the recent imprisonment and extended\nprevious persecution, and partly by the mysterious significance of the\nlanguage in which I had recently been addressed. The sentence, \"You will\nnow go into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and learn the mysteries\nof life,\" kept ringing through my head, and even then I sat beside a\ncorpse. After this discovery I remained for a time in a semi-stupor, in\na state of profound dejection,--how long I can not say. Then I\nexperienced an inexplicable change, such as I imagine comes over a\ncondemned man without hope of reprieve, and I became unconcerned as a\nman might who had accepted his destiny, and stoically determined to\nawait it. Perhaps moments passed, it may have been hours, and then\nindifference gave place to reviving curiosity. I realized that I could\ndie only once, and I coolly and complacently revolved the matter,\nspeculating over my possible fate. As I look back on the night in which\nI rode beside that dead man, facing the mysterious agents of an\nall-powerful judge, I marvel over a mental condition that permitted me\nfinally to rest in peace, and slumber in unconcern. So I did, however,\nand after a period, the length of which I am not able to estimate, I\nawoke, and soon thereafter the carriage stopped, and our horses were\nchanged, after which our journey was resumed, to continue hour after\nhour, and at last I slept again, leaning back in the corner. Suddenly I\nwas violently shaken from slumber, and commanded to alight. It was in\nthe gray of morning, and before I could realize what was happening, I\nwas transferred by my captors to another carriage, and the dead man also\nwas rudely hustled along and thrust beside me, my companions speaking to\nhim as though he were alive. Indeed, as I look back on these maneuvers,\nI perceive that, to all appearances, I was one of the abducting party,\nand our actions were really such as to induce an observer to believe\nthat this dead man was an obstinate prisoner, and myself one of his\nofficial guards. The drivers of the carriages seemed to give us no\nattention, but they sat upright and unconcerned, and certainly neither\nof them interested himself in our transfer. The second carriage, like\nthat other previously described, was securely closed, and our journey\nwas continued. The darkness was as of a dungeon. It may have been days,\nI could not tell anything about the passage of time; on and on we rode.\nOccasionally food and drink were handed in, but my captors held to their\ncourse, and at last I was taken from the vehicle, and transferred to a\nblock-house.\n\nI had been carried rapidly and in secret a hundred or more miles,\nperhaps into another state, and probably all traces of my journey were\neffectually lost to outsiders. I was in the hands of men who implicitly\nobeyed the orders of their superiors, masters whom they had never seen,\nand probably did not know. I needed no reminder of the fact that I had\nviolated every sacred pledge voluntarily made to the craft, and now\nthat they held me powerless, I well knew that, whatever the punishment\nassigned, I had invited it, and could not prevent its fulfillment. That\nit would be severe, I realized; that it would not be in accordance with\nordinary human law, I accepted.\n\n[Illustration: \"I WAS TAKEN FROM THE VEHICLE, AND TRANSFERRED TO A\nBLOCK-HOUSE.\"]\n\nHad I not in secret, in my little room in that obscure Stone Tavern,\nengrossed on paper the mystic sentences that never before had been\npenned, and were unknown excepting to persons initiated into our sacred\nmysteries? Had I not previously, in the most solemn manner, before these\nwords had been imparted to my keeping, sworn to keep them inviolate and\nsecret? and had I not deliberately broken that sacred vow, and scattered\nthe hoarded sentences broadcast? My part as a brother in this fraternal\norganization was that of the holder only of property that belonged to no\nman, that had been handed from one to another through the ages, sacredly\ncherished, and faithfully protected by men of many tongues, always\nconsidered a trust, a charge of honor, and never before betrayed. My\ncrime was deep and dark. I shuddered.\n\n\"Come what may,\" I mused, reflecting over my perfidy, \"I am ready for\nthe penalty, and my fate is deserved; it can not but be a righteous\none.\"\n\nThe words of the occupant of the carriage occurred to me again and\nagain; that one sentence kept ringing in my brain; I could not dismiss\nit: \"You have been tried, convicted, and we are of those appointed to\ncarry out the sentence of the judges.\"\n\nThe black silence of my lonely cell beat against me; I could feel the\nabsence of sound, I could feel the dismal weight of nothingness, and in\nmy solitude and distraction I cried out in anguish to the invisible\njudge: \"I am ready for my sentence, whether it be death or imprisonment\nfor life\"; and still the further words of the occupant of the carriage\npassed through my mind: \"You will now go into the Valley of the Shadow\nof Death, and will learn the mysteries of Life.\"\n\nThen I slept, to awake and sleep again. I kept no note of time; it may\nhave been days or weeks, so far as my record could determine. An\nattendant came at intervals to minister to my wants, always masked\ncompletely, ever silent.\n\nThat I was not entirely separated from mankind, however, I felt assured,\nfor occasionally sounds of voices came to me from without. Once I\nventured to shout aloud, hoping to attract attention; but the persons\nwhom I felt assured overheard me, paid no attention to my lonely cry. At\nlast one night, my door opened abruptly, and three men entered.\n\n\"Do not fear,\" said their spokesman, \"we aim to protect you; keep still,\nand soon you will be a free man.\"\n\nI consented quietly to accompany them, for to refuse would have been in\nvain; and I was conducted to a boat, which I found contained a\ncorpse--the one I had journeyed with, I suppose--and embarking, we were\nsilently rowed to the middle of the river, our course being diagonally\nfrom the shore, and the dead man was thrown overboard. Then our boat\nreturned to the desolate bank.\n\nThrusting me into a carriage, that, on our return to the river bank we\nfound awaiting us, my captors gave a signal, and I was driven away in\nthe darkness, as silently as before, and our journey was continued I\nbelieve for fully two days. I was again confined in another log cabin,\nwith but one door, and destitute of windows. My attendants were masked,\nthey neither spoke to me as they day after day supplied my wants, nor\ndid they give me the least information on any subject, until at last I\nabandoned all hope of ever regaining my liberty.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE DEAD MAN WAS THROWN OVERBOARD.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n A WILD NIGHT.--I AM PREMATURELY AGED.\n\n\nIn the depths of night I was awakened by a noise made by the opening of\na door, and one by one seven masked figures silently stalked into my\nprison. Each bore a lighted torch, and they passed me as I lay on the\nfloor in my clothes (for I had no bedding), and ranged themselves in a\nline. I arose, and seated myself as directed to do, upon the only stool\nin the room. Swinging into a semi-circle, the weird line wound about me,\nand from the one seat on which I rested in the center of the room, I\ngazed successively upon seven pairs of gleaming eyes, each pair directed\nat myself; and as I turned from one to another, the black cowl of each\ndeepened into darkness, and grew more hideous.\n\n\"Men or devils,\" I cried, \"do your worst! Make me, if such is your will,\nas that sunken corpse beside which I was once seated; but cease your\npersecutions. I have atoned for my indiscretions a thousand fold, and\nthis suspense is unbearable; I demand to know what is to be my doom, and\nI desire its fulfilment.\"\n\nThen one stepped forward, facing me squarely,--the others closed\ntogether around him and me. Raising his forefinger, he pointed it close\nto my face, and as his sharp eyes glittered from behind the black mask,\npiercing through me, he slowly said: \"Why do you not say brothers?\"\n\n\"Horrible,\" I rejoined; \"stop this mockery. Have I not suffered enough\nfrom your persecutions to make me reject that word as applied to\nyourselves? You can but murder; do your duty to your unseen masters, and\nend this prolonged torture!\"\n\n\"Brother,\" said the spokesman, \"you well know that the sacred rules of\nour order will not permit us to murder any human being. We exist to\nbenefit humanity, to lead the wayward back across the burning desert\ninto the pathways of the righteous; not to destroy or persecute a\nbrother. Ours is an eleemosynary institution, instructing its members,\nhelping them to seek happiness. You are now expiating the crime you have\ncommitted, and the good in your spirit rightfully revolts against the\nbad, for in divulging to the world our mystic signs and brotherly\ngreetings, you have sinned against yourself more than against others.\nThe sting of conscience, the bitings of remorse punish you.\"\n\n\"True,\" I cried, as the full significance of what he said burst upon me,\n\"too true; but I bitterly repent my treachery. Others can never know how\nmy soul is harrowed by the recollection of the enormity of that breach\nof confidence. In spite of my open, careless, or defiant bearing, my\nheart is humble, and my spirit cries out for mercy. By night and by day\nI have in secret cursed myself for heeding an unhallowed mandate, and I\nhave long looked forward to the judgment that I should suffer for my\nperfidy, for I have appreciated that the day of reckoning would surely\nappear. I do not rebel, and I recall my wild language; I recant my\n'Confession,' I renounce myself! I say to you in all sincerity,\nbrothers, do your duty, only I beg of you to slay me at once, and end my\nsuspense. I await my doom. What might it be?\"\n\nGrasping my hand, the leader said: \"You are ready as a member of our\norder; we can now judge you as we have been commanded; had you persisted\nin calling us devils in your mistaken frenzy, we should have been forced\nto reason with you until you returned again to us, and became one of us.\nOur judgment is for you only; the world must not now know its nature, at\nleast so far as we are concerned. Those you see here, are not your\njudges; we are agents sent to labor with you, to draw you back into our\nranks, to bring you into a condition that will enable you to carry out\nthe sentence that you have drawn upon yourself, for you must be your own\ndoomsman. In the first place, we are directed to gain your voluntary\nconsent to leave this locality. You can no longer take part in affairs\nthat interested you before. To the people of this State, and to your\nhome, and kindred, you must become a stranger for all time. Do you\nconsent?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered, for I knew that I must acquiesce.\n\n\"In the next place, you must help us to remove all traces of your\nidentity. You must, so far as the world is concerned, leave your body\nwhere you have apparently been drowned, for a world's benefit, a\nharmless mockery to deceive the people, and also to make an example for\nothers that are weak. Are you ready?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then remove your clothing, and replace it with this suit.\"\n\nI obeyed, and changed my garments, receiving others in return. One of\nthe party then, taking from beneath his gown a box containing several\nbottles of liquids, proceeded artfully to mix and compound them, and\nthen to paint my face with the combination, which after being mixed,\nformed a clear solution.\n\n\"Do not fear to wash;\" said the spokesman, \"the effect of this lotion is\npermanent enough to stay until you are well out of this State.\"\n\nI passed my hand over my face; it was drawn into wrinkles as a film of\ngelatine might have been shrivelled under the influence of a strong\ntannin or astringent liquid; beneath my fingers it felt like the\nfurrowed face of a very old man, but I experienced no pain. I vainly\ntried to smooth the wrinkles; immediately upon removing the pressure of\nmy hand, the furrows reappeared.\n\nNext, another applied a colorless liquid freely to my hair and beard; he\nrubbed it well, and afterward wiped it dry with a towel. A mirror was\nthrust beneath my gaze. I started back, the transformation was complete.\nMy appearance had entirely changed. My face had become aged and\nwrinkled, my hair as white as snow.\n\nI cried aloud in amazement: \"Am I sane, is this a dream?\"\n\n\"It is not a dream; but, under methods that are in exact accordance with\nnatural physiological laws, we have been enabled to transform your\nappearance from that of one in the prime of manhood into the semblance\nof an old man, and that, too, without impairment of your vitality.\"\nAnother of the masked men opened a curious little casket that I\nperceived was surmounted by an alembic and other alchemical figures, and\nembossed with an Oriental design. He drew from it a lamp which he\nlighted with a taper; the flame that resulted, first pale blue, then\nyellow, next violet and finally red, seemed to become more weird and\nghastly with each mutation, as I gazed spell-bound upon its fantastic\nchanges. Then, after these transformations, it burned steadily with the\nfinal strange blood-red hue, and he now held over the blaze a tiny cup,\nwhich, in a few moments, commenced to sputter and then smoked, exhaling\na curious, epipolic, semi-luminous vapor. I was commanded to inhale the\nvapor.\n\n[Illustration: \"A MIRROR WAS THRUST BENEATH MY GAZE.\"]\n\nI hesitated; the thought rushed upon me, \"Now I am another person, so\ncleverly disguised that even my own friends would perhaps not know me,\nthis vapor is designed to suffocate me, and my body, if found, will not\nnow be known, and could not be identified when discovered.\"\n\n\"Do not fear,\" said the spokesman, as if divining my thought, \"there is\nno danger,\" and at once I realized, by quick reasoning, that if my death\nwere demanded, my body might long since have been easily destroyed, and\nall this ceremony would have been unnecessary.\n\nI hesitated no longer, but drew into my lungs the vapor that arose from\nthe mysterious cup, freely expanding my chest several times, and then\nasked, \"Is not that enough?\" Despair now overcame me. My voice, no\nlonger the full, strong tone of a man in middle life and perfect\nstrength, squeaked and quavered, as if impaired by palsy. I had seen my\nimage in a mirror, an old man with wrinkled face and white hair; I now\nheard myself speak with the voice of an octogenarian.\n\n\"What have you done?\" I cried.\n\n\"We have obeyed your orders; you told us you were ready to leave your\nown self here, and the work is complete. The man who entered has\ndisappeared. If you should now stand in the streets of your village\nhome, and cry to your former friends, 'It is I, for whom you seek,' they\nwould smile, and call you a madman. Know,\" continued the voice, \"that\nthere is in Eastern metaphysical lore, more true philosophy than is\nembodied in the sciences of to-day, and that by means of the\nramifications of our order it becomes possible, when necessary, for him\nwho stands beyond the inner and upper Worshipful Master, to draw these\ntreasures from the occult Wisdom possessions of Oriental sages who\nforget nothing and lose nothing. Have we not been permitted to do his\nbidding well?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I squeaked; \"and I wish that you had done it better. I would that\nI were dead.\"\n\n\"When the time comes, if necessary, your dead body will be fished from\nthe water,\" was the reply; \"witnesses have seen the drowning tragedy,\nand will surely identify the corpse.\"\n\n\"And may I go? am I free now?\" I asked.\n\n\"Ah,\" said he, \"that is not for us to say; our part of the work is\nfulfilled, and we can return to our native lands, and resume again our\nseveral studies. So far as we are concerned, you are free, but we have\nbeen directed to pass you over to the keeping of others who will carry\nforward this judgment--there is another step.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" I cried, once more desponding, \"tell me the full extent of my\nsentence.\"\n\n\"That is not known to us, and probably is not known to any one man. So\nfar as the members of our order are concerned, you have now vanished.\nWhen you leave our sight this night, we will also separate from one\nanother, we shall know no more of you and your future than will those of\nour working order who live in this section of the country. We have no\npersonal acquaintance with the guide that has been selected to conduct\nyou farther, and who will appear in due season, and we make no surmise\nconcerning the result of your journey, only we know that you will not be\nkilled, for you have a work to perform, and will continue to exist long\nafter others of your age are dead. Farewell, brother; we have discharged\nour duty, and by your consent, now we must return to our various\npursuits. In a short time all evidence of your unfortunate mistake, the\ncrime committed by you in printing our sacred charges, will have\nvanished. Even now, emissaries are ordained to collect and destroy the\nwritten record that tells of your weakness, and with the destruction of\nthat testimony, for every copy will surely be annihilated, and with your\ndisappearance from among men, for this also is to follow, our\nresponsibility for you will cease.\"\n\nEach of the seven men advanced, and grasped my hand, giving me the grip\nof brotherhood, and then, without a word, they severally and silently\ndeparted into the outer darkness. As the last man disappeared, a figure\nentered the door, clad and masked exactly like those who had gone. He\nremoved the long black gown in which he was enveloped, threw the mask\nfrom his face and stood before me, a slender, graceful, bright-looking\nyoung man. By the light of the candle I saw him distinctly, and was at\nonce struck by his amiable, cheerful countenance, and my heart bounded\nwith a sudden hope. I had temporarily forgotten the transformation that\nhad been made in my person, which, altogether painless, had left no\nphysical sensation, and thought of myself as I had formerly existed; my\nsoul was still my own, I imagined; my blood seemed unchanged, and must\nflow as rapidly as before; my strength was unaltered, indeed I was in\nself-consciousness still in the prime of life.\n\n\"Excuse me, Father,\" said the stranger, \"but my services have been\nsought as a guide for the first part of a journey that I am informed you\nintend to take.\"\n\nHis voice was mild and pleasant, his bearing respectful, but the\npeculiar manner in which he spoke convinced me that he knew that, as a\nguide, he must conduct me to some previously designated spot, and that\nhe purposed to do so was evident, with or without my consent.\n\n\"Why do you call me Father?\" I attempted to say, but as the first few\nwords escaped my lips, the recollection of the events of the night\nrushed upon me, for instead of my own, I recognized the piping voice of\nthe old man I had now become, and my tongue faltered; the sentence was\nunspoken.\n\n\"You would ask me why I called you Father, I perceive; well, because I\nam directed to be a son to you, to care for your wants, to make your\njourney as easy and pleasant as possible, to guide you quietly and\ncarefully to the point that will next prove of interest to you.\"\n\nI stood before him a free man, in the prime of life, full of energy, and\nthis stripling alone interposed between myself and liberty. Should I\npermit the slender youth to carry me away as a prisoner? would it not be\nbest to thrust him aside, if necessary, crush him to the earth? go forth\nin my freedom? Yet I hesitated, for he might have friends outside;\nprobably he was not alone.\n\n\"There are no companions near us,\" said he, reading my mind, \"and, as I\ndo not seem formidable, it is natural you should weigh in your mind the\nprobabilities of escape; but you can not evade your destiny, and you\nmust not attempt to deny yourself the pleasure of my company. You must\nleave this locality and leave without a regret. In order that you may\nacquiesce willingly I propose that together we return to your former\nhome, which you will, however, find no longer to be a home. I will\naccompany you as a companion, as your son. You may speak, with one\nexception, to whomever you care to address; may call on any of your old\nassociates, may assert openly who you are, or whatever and whoever you\nplease to represent yourself, only I must also have the privilege of\njoining in the conversation.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" I cried, and extended my hand; he grasped it, and then by the\nlight of the candle, I saw a peculiar expression flit over his face, as\nhe added:\n\n\"To one person only, as I have said, and you have promised, you must not\nspeak--your wife.\"\n\nI bowed my head, and a flood of sorrowful reflections swept over me. Of\nall the world the one whom I longed to meet, to clasp in my arms, to\ncounsel in my distress, was the wife of my bosom, and I begged him to\nwithdraw his cruel injunction.\n\n\"You should have thought of her before; now it is too late. To permit\nyou to meet, and speak with her would be dangerous; she might pierce\nyour disguise. Of all others there is no fear.\"\n\n\"Must I go with you into an unknown future without a farewell kiss from\nmy little child or from my babe scarce three months old?\"\n\n\"It has been so ordained.\"\n\nI threw myself on the floor and moaned. \"This is too hard, too hard for\nhuman heart to bear. Life has no charm to a man who is thrust from all\nhe holds most dear, home, friends, family.\"\n\n\"The men who relinquish such pleasures and such comforts are those who\ndo the greatest good to humanity,\" said the youth. \"The multitude exist\nto propagate the race, as animal progenitors of the multitudes that are\nto follow, and the exceptional philanthropist is he who denies himself\nmaterial bliss, and punishes himself in order to work out a problem such\nas it has been ordained that you are to solve. Do not argue further--the\nline is marked, and you must walk direct.\"\n\nInto the blaze of the old fireplace of that log house, for, although it\nwas autumn, the night was chilly, he then cast his black robe and false\nface, and, as they turned to ashes, the last evidences of the vivid acts\nthrough which I had passed, were destroyed. As I lay moaning in my utter\nmisery, I tried to reason with myself that what I experienced was all a\nhallucination. I dozed, and awoke startled, half conscious only, as one\nin a nightmare; I said to myself, \"A dream! a dream!\" and slept again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n A LESSON IN MIND STUDY.\n\n\nThe door of the cabin was open when I awoke, the sun shone brightly, and\nmy friend, apparently happy and unconcerned, said: \"Father, we must soon\nstart on our journey; I have taken advantage of your refreshing sleep,\nand have engaged breakfast at yonder farm-house; our meal awaits us.\"\n\nI arose, washed my wrinkled face, combed my white hair, and shuddered as\nI saw in a pocket mirror the reflection of my figure, an aged,\napparently decrepit man.\n\n\"Do not be disturbed at your feeble condition,\" said my companion; \"your\ninfirmities are not real. Few men have ever been permitted to drink of\nthe richness of the revelations that await you; and in view of these\nexpectations the fact that you are prematurely aged in appearance should\nnot unnerve you. Be of good heart, and when you say the word, we will\nstart on our journey, which will begin as soon as you have said farewell\nto former friends and acquaintances.\"\n\nI made no reply, but silently accompanied him, for my thoughts were in\nthe past, and my reflections were far from pleasant.\n\nWe reached the farm-house, and as I observed the care and attention\nextended me by the pleasant-faced housewife, I realized that, in one\nrespect at least, old age brought its compensation. After breakfast a\nman appeared from the farmer's barn, driving a team of horses attached\nto an open spring-wagon which, in obedience to the request of my guide,\nI entered, accompanied by my young friend, who directed that we be\ndriven toward the village from which I had been abducted. He seemed to\nknow my past life as I knew it; he asked me to select those of my\nfriends to whom I first wished to bid farewell, even mentioning their\nnames; he seemed all that a patient, faithful son could be, and I began\nto wonder at his audacity, even as much as I admired his\nself-confidence.\n\nAs we journeyed onward we engaged in familiar talk. We sat together on\nthe back seat of the open spring-wagon, in full sight of passers, no\nattempt being made to conceal my person. Thus we traveled for two days,\nand on our course we passed through a large city with which I was\nacquainted, a city that my abductors had previously carried me through\nand beyond. I found that my \"son\" possessed fine conversational power,\nand a rich mine of information, and he became increasingly interesting\nas he drew from his fund of knowledge, and poured into my listening ears\nan entrancing strain of historical and metaphysical information. Never\nat a loss for a word or an idea, he appeared to discern my cogitations,\nand as my mind wandered in this or that direction he fell into the\nchannel of my fancies, and answered my unspoken thoughts, my\nmind-questions or meditations, as pertinently as though I had spoken\nthem.\n\nHis accomplishments, for the methods of his perception were\nunaccompanied by any endeavor to draw me into word expression, made me\naware at least, that, in him, I had to deal with a man unquestionably\npossessed of more than ordinary intellect and education, and as this\nconviction entered my mind he changed his subject and promptly answered\nthe silent inquiry, speaking as follows:\n\n\"Have you not sometimes felt that in yourself there may exist\nundeveloped senses that await an awakening touch to open to yourself a\nnew world, senses that may be fully developed, but which saturate each\nother and neutralize themselves; quiescent, closed circles which you can\nnot reach, satisfied circuits slumbering within your body and that defy\nyour efforts to utilize them? In your dreams have you not seen sights\nthat words are inadequate to describe, that your faculties can not\nretain in waking moments, and which dissolve into intangible\nnothingness, leaving only a vague, shadowy outline as the mind quickens,\nor rather when the senses that possess you in sleep relinquish the body\nto the returning vital functions and spirit? This unconscious conception\nof other planes, a beyond or betwixt, that is neither mental nor\nmaterial, neither here nor located elsewhere, belongs to humanity in\ngeneral, and is made evident from the unsatiable desire of men to pry\ninto phenomena latent or recondite that offer no apparent return to\nhumanity. This desire has given men the knowledge they now possess of\nthe sciences; sciences yet in their infancy. Study in this direction is,\nat present, altogether of the material plane, but in time to come, men\nwill gain control of outlying senses which will enable them to step from\nthe seen into the consideration of matter or force that is now subtle\nand evasive, which must be accomplished by means of the latent faculties\nthat I have indicated. There will be an unconscious development of new\nmind-forces in the student of nature as the rudiments of these so-called\nsciences are elaborated. Step by step, as the ages pass, the faculties\nof men will, under progressive series of evolutions, imperceptibly pass\ninto higher phases until that which is even now possible with some\nindividuals of the purified esoteric school, but which would seem\nmiraculous if practiced openly at this day, will prove feasible to\nhumanity generally and be found in exact accord with natural laws. The\nconversational method of men, whereby communion between human beings is\ncarried on by disturbing the air by means of vocal organs so as to\nproduce mechanical pulsations of that medium, is crude in the extreme.\nMind craves to meet mind, but can not yet thrust matter aside, and in\norder to communicate one with another, the impression one mind wishes to\nconvey to another must be first made on the brain matter that\naccompanies it, which in turn influences the organs of speech, inducing\na disturbance of the air by the motions of the vocal organs, which, by\nundulations that reach to another being, act on his ear, and secondarily\non the earthly matter of his brain, and finally by this roundabout\ncourse, impress the second being's mind. In this transmission of motions\nthere is great waste of energy and loss of time, but such methods are a\nnecessity of the present slow, much-obstructed method of communication.\nThere is, in cultivated man, an innate craving for something more\nfacile, and often a partly developed conception, spectral and vague,\nappears, and the being feels that there may be for mortals a richer,\nbrighter life, a higher earthly existence that science does not now\nindicate. Such intimation of a deeper play of faculties is now most\nvivid with men during the perfect loss of mental self as experienced in\ndreams, which as yet man in the quick can not grasp, and which fade as\nhe awakens. As mental sciences are developed, investigators will find\nthat the medium known as air is unnecessary as a means of conveying\nmind conceptions from one person to another; that material sounds and\nword pulsations are cumbersome; that thought force unexpressed may be\nused to accomplish more than speech can do, and that physical exertions\nas exemplified in motion of matter such as I have described will be\nunnecessary for mental communication. As door after door in these\ndirections shall open before men, mystery after mystery will be\ndisclosed, and vanish as mysteries to reappear as simple facts.\nPhenomena that are impossible and unrevealed to the scientist of to-day\nwill be familiar to the coming multitude, and at last, as by degrees,\nclearer knowledge is evolved, the vocal language of men will disappear,\nand humanity, regardless of nationality, will, in silence and even in\ndarkness, converse eloquently together in mind language. That which is\nnow esoteric will become exoteric. Then mind will meet mind as my mind\nnow impinges on your own, and, in reply to your unuttered question\nregarding my apparently unaccountable powers of perception, I say they\nare perfectly natural, but while I can read your thoughts, because of\nthe fact that you can not reciprocate in this direction, I must use my\nvoice to impress your mind. You will know more of this, however, at a\nfuture day, for it has been ordained that you are to be educated with an\nobject that is now concealed. At present you are interested mainly in\nthe affairs of life as you know them, and can not enter into these purer\nspheres. We are approaching one of your former friends, and it may be\nyour pleasure to ask him some questions and to bid him farewell.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n I CAN NOT ESTABLISH MY IDENTITY.\n\n\nIn surprise I perceived coming towards us a light spring wagon, in which\nrode one of my old acquaintances. Pleasure at the discovery led me to\nraise my hat, wave it around my head, and salute him even at the\nconsiderable distance that then separated us. I was annoyed at the look\nof curiosity that passed over his countenance, and not until the two\nvehicles had stopped side by side did it occur to me that I was\nunrecognized. I had been so engrossed in my companion's revelations,\nthat I had forgotten my unfortunate physical condition.\n\nI stretched out my hand, I leaned over almost into the other vehicle,\nand earnestly said:\n\n\"Do you not know me? Only a short time ago we sat and conversed side by\nside.\"\n\nA look of bewilderment came over his features. \"I have never seen you\nthat I can recall,\" he answered.\n\nMy spirit sank within me. Could it be possible that I was really so\nchanged? I begged him to try and recall my former self, giving my name.\n\"I am that person,\" I added; but he, with an expression of countenance\nthat told as plainly as words could speak that he considered me\nderanged, touched his horse, and drove on.\n\nMy companion broke the awkward silence. \"Do you know that I perceived\nbetween you two men an unconscious display of mind-language, especially\nevident on your part? You wished with all the earnestness of your soul\nto bring yourself as you formerly appeared, before that man, and when it\nproved impossible, without a word from him, his mind exhibited itself to\nyour more earnest intellect, and you realized that he said to himself,\n'This person is a poor lunatic.' He told you his thoughts in\nmind-language, as plainly as words could have spoken, because the\nintense earnestness on your part quickened your perceptive faculties,\nbut he could not see your mental state, and the pleading voice of the\napparent stranger before him could not convince the unconcerned\nlethargic mind within him. I observed, however, in addition to what you\nnoticed, that he is really looking for you. That is the object of his\njourney, and I learn that in every direction men are now spreading the\nnews that you have been kidnapped and carried from your jail. However,\nwe shall soon be in the village, and you will then hear more about\nyourself.\"\n\nWe rode in silence while I meditated on my remarkable situation. I could\nnot resign myself without a struggle to my approaching fate, and I felt\neven yet a hope, although I seemed powerless in the hands of destiny.\nCould I not, by some method, convince my friends of my identity? I\ndetermined, forgetting the fact that my guide was even then reading my\nmind, that upon the next opportunity I would pursue a different course.\n\n\"It will not avail,\" my companion replied. \"You must do one of two\nthings: you will voluntarily go with me, or you will involuntarily go to\nan insane asylum. Neither you nor I could by any method convince others\nthat the obviously decrepit old man beside me was but yesterday hale,\nhearty, young and strong. You will find that you can not prove your\nidentity, and as a friend, one of the great brotherhood to which you\nbelong, a craft that deals charitably with all men and all problems, I\nadvise you to accept the situation as soon as possible after it becomes\nevident to your mind that you are lost to former affiliations, and must\nhenceforth be a stranger to the people whom you know. Take my advice,\nand cease to regret the past and cheerfully turn your thoughts to the\nfuture. On one side of you the lunatic asylum is open; on the other, a\njourney into an unknown region, beyond the confines of any known\ncountry. On the one hand, imprisonment and subjection, perhaps abuse and\nneglect; on the other, liberation of soul, evolution of faculty, and a\ngrasping of superior knowledge that is denied most men--yes, withheld\nfrom all but a few persons of each generation, for only a few, unknown\nto the millions of this world's inhabitants, have passed over the road\nyou are to travel. Just now you wished to meet your jailer of a few\nhours ago; it is a wise conclusion, and if he does not recognize you, I\nask in sincerity, who will be likely to do so? We will drive straight to\nhis home; but, here he comes.\"\n\nIndeed, we were now in the village, where my miserable journey began,\nand perhaps by chance--it seems that it could not have been\notherwise--my former jailer actually approached us.\n\n\"If you please,\" said my companion, \"I will assist you to alight from\nthe wagon, and you may privately converse with him.\"\n\nOur wagon stopped, my guide opened a conversation with the jailer,\nsaying that his friend wished to speak with him, and then assisted me to\nalight and retired a distance. I was vexed at my infirmities, which\nembarrassed me most exasperatingly, but which I knew were artificial; my\nbody appeared unwilling although my spirit was anxious; but do what I\ncould to control my actions, I involuntarily behaved like a decrepit old\nman. However, my mind was made up; this attempt to prove my personality\nshould be the last; failure now would prove the turning point, and I\nwould go willingly with my companion upon the unknown journey if I could\nnot convince the jailer of my identity.\n\nStraightening myself before the expectant jailer, who, with a look of\ninquisitiveness, regarded me as a stranger, I asked if he knew my former\nself, giving my name.\n\n\"That I do,\" he replied, \"and if I could find him at this moment I would\nbe relieved of a load of worry.\"\n\n\"Would you surely know him if you met him?\" I asked.\n\n\"Assuredly,\" he replied; \"and if you bring tidings of his whereabouts,\nas your bearing indicates, speak, that I may rid myself of suspicion and\nsuspense.\"\n\nCalling the jailer by name, I asked him if my countenance did not remind\nhim of the man he wished to find.\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"Listen, does not my voice resemble that of your escaped prisoner?\"\n\n\"Not in the least.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"I AM THE MAN YOU SEEK.\"]\n\nWith a violent effort I drew my form as straight as possible, and stood\nupright before him, with every facial muscle strained to its utmost, in\na vain endeavor to bring my wrinkled countenance to its former\nsmoothness, and with the energy that a drowning man might exert to\ngrasp a passing object, I tried to control my voice, and preserve my\nidentity by so doing, vehemently imploring him, begging him to listen to\nmy story. \"I am the man you seek; I am the prisoner who, a few days ago,\nstood in the prime of life before you. I have been spirited away from\nyou by men who are leagued with occult forces, which extend forward\namong hidden mysteries, into forces which illuminate the present, and\nreach backward into the past unseen. These persons, by artful and\ndamnable manipulations under the guidance of a power that has been\nevolved in the secrecy of past ages, and transmitted only to a favored\nfew, have changed the strong man you knew into the one apparently\nfeeble, who now confronts you. Only a short period has passed since I\nwas your unwilling captive, charged with debt, a trifling sum; and then,\nas your sullen prisoner, I longed for freedom. Now I plead before you,\nwith all my soul, I beg of you to take me back to my cell. Seal your\ndoors, and hold me again, for your dungeon will now be to me a\nparadise.\"\n\nI felt that I was becoming frantic, for with each word I realized that\nthe jailer became more and more impatient and annoyed. I perceived that\nhe believed me to be a lunatic. Pleadings and entreaties were of no\navail, and my eagerness rapidly changed into despair until at last I\ncried: \"If you will not believe my words, I will throw myself on the\nmercy of my young companion. I ask you to consider his testimony, and if\nhe says that I am not what I assert myself to be, I will leave my home\nand country, and go with him quietly into the unknown future.\"\n\nHe turned to depart, but I threw myself before him, and beckoned the\nyoung man who, up to this time, had stood aloof in respectful silence.\nHe came forward, and addressing the jailer, called him by name, and\ncorroborated my story. Yes, strange as it sounded to me, he reiterated\nthe substance of my narrative as I had repeated it. \"Now, you will\nbelieve it,\" I cried in ecstacy; \"now you need no longer question the\nfacts that I have related.\"\n\nInstead, however, of accepting the story of the witness, the jailer\nupbraided him.\n\n\"This is a preconcerted arrangement to get me into ridicule or further\ntrouble. You two have made up an incredible story that on its face is\nfit only to be told to men as crazy or designing as yourselves. This\nyoung man did not even overhear your conversation with me, and yet he\nrepeats his lesson without a question from me as to what I wish to learn\nof him.\"\n\n\"He can see our minds,\" I cried in despair.\n\n\"Crazier than I should have believed from your countenance,\" the jailer\nreplied. \"Of all the improbable stories imaginable, you have attempted\nto inveigle me into accepting that which is most unreasonable. If you\nare leagued together intent on some swindling scheme, I give you warning\nnow that I am in no mood for trifling. Go your way, and trouble me no\nmore with this foolish scheming, which villainy or lunacy of some\ndescription must underlie.\" He turned in anger and left us.\n\n\"It is as I predicted,\" said my companion; \"you are lost to man. Those\nwho know you best will turn from you soonest. I might become as wild as\nyou are, in your interest, and only serve to make your story appear more\nextravagant. In human affairs men judge and act according to the limited\nknowledge at command of the multitude. Witnesses who tell the truth are\noften, in our courts of law, stunned, as you have been, by the decisions\nof a narrow-minded jury. Men sit on juries with little conception of the\nfacts of the case that is brought before them; the men who manipulate\nthem are mere tools in unseen hands that throw their several minds in\nantagonisms unexplainable to man. The judge is unconsciously often a\ntool of his own errors or those of others. One learned judge unties what\nanother has fastened, each basing his views on the same testimony, each\nrendering his decision in accordance with law derived from the same\nauthority. Your case is that condition of mind that men call lunacy. You\ncan see much that is hidden from others because you have become\nacquainted with facts that their narrow education forbids them to\naccept, but, because the majority is against you, they consider you\nmentally unbalanced. The philosophy of men does not yet comprehend the\nconditions that have operated on your person, and as you stand alone,\nalthough in the right, all men will oppose you, and you must submit to\nthe views of a misguided majority. In the eyes of a present generation\nyou are crazy. A jury of your former peers could not do else than so\nadjudge you, for you are not on the same mental plane, and I ask, will\nyou again attempt to accomplish that which is as impossible as it would\nbe for you to drink the waters of Seneca Lake at one draught? Go to\nthose men and propose to drain that lake at one gulp, and you will be\nlistened to as seriously as when you beg your former comrades to believe\nthat you are another person than what you seem. Only lengthened life is\ncredited with the production of physical changes that under favorable\nconditions, are possible of accomplishment in a brief period, and such\ntestimony as you could bring, in the present state of human knowledge,\nwould only add to the proof of your lunacy.\"\n\n\"I see, I see,\" I said; \"and I submit. Lead on, I am ready. Whatever my\ndestined career may be, wherever it may be, it can only lead to the\ngrave.\"\n\n\"Do not be so sure of that,\" was the reply.\n\nI shuddered instinctively, for this answer seemed to imply that the\nstillness of the grave would be preferable to my destiny.\n\nWe got into the wagon again, and a deep silence followed as we rode\nalong, gazing abstractedly on the quiet fields and lonely farm-houses.\nFinally we reached a little village. Here my companion dismissed the\nfarmer, our driver, paying him liberally, and secured lodgings in a\nprivate family (I believe we were expected), and after a hearty supper\nwe retired. From the time we left the jailer I never again attempted to\nreveal my identity. I had lost my interest in the past, and found myself\ncraving to know what the future had in store for me.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n MY JOURNEY TOWARDS THE END OF EARTH BEGINS.--THE ADEPTS'\n BROTHERHOOD.\n\n\nMy companion did not attempt to watch over my motions or in any way to\ninterfere with my freedom.\n\n\"I will for a time necessarily be absent,\" he said, \"arranging for our\njourney, and while I am getting ready you must employ yourself as best\nyou can. I ask you, however, now to swear that, as you have promised,\nyou will not seek your wife and children.\"\n\nTo this I agreed.\n\n\"Hold up your hand,\" he said, and I repeated after him: \"All this I most\nsolemnly and sincerely promise and swear, with a firm and steadfast\nresolution to keep and perform my oath, without the least equivocation,\nmental reservation or self-evasion whatever.\"\n\n\"That will answer; see that you keep your oath this time,\" he said, and\nhe departed. Several days were consumed before he returned, and during\nthat time I was an inquisitive and silent listener to the various\nconjectures others were making regarding my abduction which event was\nbecoming of general interest. Some of the theories advanced were quite\nnear the truth, others wild and erratic. How preposterous it seemed to\nme that the actor himself could be in the very seat of the disturbance,\nwilling, anxious to testify, ready to prove the truth concerning his\nposition, and yet unable even to obtain a respectful hearing from those\nmost interested in his recovery. Men gathered together discussing the\n\"outrage\"; women, children, even, talked of little else, and it was\nevident that the entire country was aroused. New political issues took\ntheir rise from the event, but the man who was the prime cause of the\nexcitement was for a period a willing and unwilling listener, as he had\nbeen a willing and unwilling actor in the tragedy.\n\nOne morning my companion drove up in a light carriage, drawn by a span\nof fine, spirited, black horses.\n\n\"We are ready now,\" he said, and my unprecedented journey began.\n\nWherever we stopped, I heard my name mentioned. Men combined against\nmen, brother was declaiming against brother, neighbor was against\nneighbor, everywhere suspicion was in the air.\n\n\"The passage of time alone can quiet these people,\" said I.\n\n\"The usual conception of the term Time--an indescribable something\nflowing at a constant rate--is erroneous,\" replied my comrade. \"Time is\nhumanity's best friend, and should be pictured as a ministering angel,\ninstead of a skeleton with hour-glass and scythe. Time does not fly, but\nis permanent and quiescent, while restless, force-impelled matter rushes\nonward. Force and matter fly; Time reposes. At our birth we are wound up\nlike a machine, to move for a certain number of years, grating against\nTime. We grind against that complacent spirit, and wear not Time but\nourselves away. We hold within ourselves a certain amount of energy,\nwhich, an evanescent form of matter, is the opponent of Time. Time has\nno existence with inanimate objects. It is a conception of the human\nintellect. Time is rest, perfect rest, tranquillity such as man never\nrealizes unless he becomes a part of the sweet silences toward which\nhuman life and human mind are drifting. So much for Time. Now for Life.\nDisturbed energy in one of its forms, we call Life; and this Life is the\ngreat enemy of peace, the opponent of steadfast perfection. Pure energy,\nthe soul of the universe, permeates all things with which man is now\nacquainted, but when at rest is imperceptible to man, while disturbed\nenergy, according to its condition, is apparent either as matter or as\nforce. A substance or material body is a manifestation resulting from a\ndisturbance of energy. The agitating cause removed, the manifestations\ndisappear, and thus a universe may be extinguished, without unbalancing\nthe cosmos that remains. The worlds known to man are conditions of\nabnormal energy moving on separate planes through what men call space.\nThey attract to themselves bodies of similar description, and thus\ninfluence one another--they have each a separate existence, and are\nswayed to and fro under the influence of the various disturbances in\nenergy common to their rank or order, which we call forms of forces.\nUnsettled energy also assumes numerous other expressions that are\nunknown to man, but which in all perceptible forms is characterized by\nmotion. Pure energy can not be appreciated by the minds of mortals.\nThere are invisible worlds besides those perceived by us in our\nplanetary system, unreachable centers of ethereal structure about us\nthat stand in a higher plane of development than earthly matter which is\na gross form of disturbed energy. There are also lower planes. Man's\nacquaintance with the forms of energy is the result of his power of\nperceiving the forms of matter of which he is a part. Heat, light,\ngravitation, electricity and magnetism are ever present in all\nperceivable substances, and, although purer than earth, they are still\nmanifestations of absolute energy, and for this reason are sensible to\nmen, but more evanescent than material bodies. Perhaps you can conceive\nthat if these disturbances could be removed, matter or force would be\nresolved back into pure energy, and would vanish. Such a dissociation is\nan ethereal existence, and as pure energy the life spirit of all\nmaterial things is neither cold nor hot, heavy nor light, solid, liquid\nnor gaseous--men can not, as mortals now exist, see, feel, smell, taste,\nor even conceive of it. It moves through space as we do through it, a\nworld of itself as transparent to matter as matter is to it, insensible\nbut ever present, a reality to higher existences that rest in other\nplanes, but not to us an essence subject to scientific test, nor an\nentity. Of these problems and their connection with others in the unseen\ndepths beyond, you are not yet in a position properly to judge, but\nbefore many years a new sense will be given you or a development of\nlatent senses by the removal of those more gross, and a partial insight\ninto an unsuspected unseen, into a realm to you at present unknown.\n\n\"It has been ordained that a select few must from time to time pass over\nthe threshold that divides a mortal's present life from the future, and\nyour lot has been cast among the favored ones. It is or should be deemed\na privilege to be permitted to pass farther than human philosophy has\nyet gone, into an investigation of the problems of life; this I say to\nencourage you. We have in our order a handful of persons who have\nreceived the accumulated fruits of the close attention others have\ngiven to these subjects which have been handed to them by the\ngenerations of men who have preceded. You are destined to become as they\nare. This study of semi-occult forces has enabled those selected for the\nwork to master some of the concealed truths of being, and by the partial\ndevelopment of a new sense or new senses, partly to triumph over death.\nThese facts are hidden from ordinary man, and from the earth-bound\nworkers of our brotherhood, who can not even interpret the words they\nlearn. The methods by which they are elucidated have been locked from\nman because the world is not prepared to receive them, selfishness being\nthe ruling passion of debased mankind, and publicity, until the chain of\nevidence is more complete, would embarrass their further evolutions, for\nman as yet lives on the selfish plane.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that, among men, there are a few persons possessed of\npowers such as you have mentioned?\"\n\n\"Yes; they move here and there through all orders of society, and their\nattainments are unknown, except to one another, or, at most, to but few\npersons. These adepts are scientific men, and may not even be recognized\nas members of our organization; indeed it is often necessary, for\nobvious reasons, that they should not be known as such. These studies\nmust constantly be prosecuted in various directions, and some monitors\nmust teach others to perform certain duties that are necessary to the\ngrand evolution. Hence, when a man has become one of our brotherhood,\nfrom the promptings that made you one of us, and has been as ready and\ndetermined to instruct outsiders in our work as you have been, it is\nproper that he should in turn be compelled to serve our people, and\neventually, mankind.\"\n\n\"Am I to infer from this,\" I exclaimed, a sudden light breaking upon me,\n\"that the alchemistic manuscript that led me to the fraternity to which\nyou are related may have been artfully designed to serve the interest of\nthat organization?\" To this question I received no reply. After an\ninterval, I again sought information concerning the order, and with more\nsuccess.\n\n\"I understand that you propose that I shall go on a journey of\ninvestigation for the good of our order and also of humanity.\"\n\n\"True; it is necessary that our discoveries be kept alive, and it is\nessential that the men who do this work accept the trust of their own\naccord. He who will not consent to add to the common stock of knowledge\nand understanding, must be deemed a drone in the hive of nature--but few\npersons, however, are called upon to serve as you must serve. Men are\nscattered over the world with this object in view, and are unknown to\ntheir families or even to other members of the order; they hold in\nsolemn trust our sacred revelations, and impart them to others as is\nordained, and thus nothing perishes; eventually humanity will profit.\n\n\"Others, as you soon will be doing, are now exploring assigned sections\nof this illimitable field, accumulating further knowledge, and they will\nreport results to those whose duty it is to retain and formulate the\ncollected sum of facts and principles. So it is that, unknown to the\ngreat body of our brotherhood, a chosen number, under our esoteric\nteachings, are gradually passing the dividing line that separates life\nfrom death, matter from spirit, for we have members who have mastered\nthese problems. We ask, however, no aid of evil forces or of necromancy\nor black art, and your study of alchemy was of no avail, although to\nsave the vital truths alchemy is a part of our work. We proceed in exact\naccordance with natural laws, which will yet be known to all men.\nSorrow, suffering, pain of all descriptions, are enemies to the members\nof our order, as they are to mankind broadly, and we hope in the future\nso to control the now hidden secrets of Nature as to be able to govern\nthe antagonistic disturbances in energy with which man now is everywhere\nthwarted, to subdue the physical enemies of the race, to affiliate\nreligious and scientific thought, cultivating brotherly love, the\nfoundation and capstone, the cement and union of this ancient\nfraternity.\"\n\n\"And am I really to take an important part in this scheme? Have I been\nset apart to explore a section of the unknown for a bit of hidden\nknowledge, and to return again?\"\n\n\"This I will say,\" he answered, evading a direct reply, \"you have been\nselected for a part that one in a thousand has been required to\nundertake. You are to pass into a field that will carry you beyond the\npresent limits of human observation. This much I have been instructed to\nimpart to you in order to nerve you for your duty. I seem to be a young\nman; really I am aged. You seem to be infirm and old, but you are\nyoung. Many years ago, cycles ago as men record time, I was promoted to\ndo a certain work because of my zealous nature; like you, I also had to\ndo penance for an error. I disappeared, as you are destined to do, from\nthe sight of men. I regained my youth; yours has been lost forever, but\nyou will regain more than your former strength. We shall both exist\nafter this generation of men has passed away, and shall mingle with\ngenerations yet to be born, for we shall learn how to restore our\nyouthful vigor, and will supply it time and again to earthly matter.\nRest assured also that the object of our labors is of the most laudable\nnature, and we must be upheld under all difficulties by the fact that\nmultitudes of men who are yet to come will be benefited thereby.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n MY JOURNEY CONTINUES.--INSTINCT.\n\n\nIt is unnecessary for me to give the details of the first part of my\nlong journey. My companion was guided by a perceptive faculty that, like\nthe compass, enabled him to keep in the proper course. He did not\nquestion those whom we met, and made no endeavor to maintain a given\ndirection; and yet he was traveling in a part of the country that was\nnew to himself. I marveled at the accuracy of his intuitive perception,\nfor he seemed never to be at fault. When the road forked, he turned to\nthe right or the left in a perfectly careless manner, but the continuity\nof his course was never interrupted. I began mentally to question\nwhether he could be guiding us aright, forgetting that he was reading my\nthoughts, and he answered: \"There is nothing strange in this\nself-directive faculty. Is not man capable of following where animals\nlead? One of the objects of my special study has been to ascertain the\nnature of the instinct-power of animals, the sagacity of brutes. The\ncarrier pigeon will fly to its cote across hundreds of miles of strange\ncountry. The young pig will often return to its pen by a route unknown\nto it; the sluggish tortoise will find its home without a guide, without\nseeing a familiar object; cats, horses and other animals possess this\npower, which is not an unexplainable instinct, but a natural sense\nbetter developed in some of the lower creatures than it is in man. The\npower lies dormant in man, but exists, nevertheless. If we develop one\nfaculty we lose acuteness in some other power. Men have lost in mental\ndevelopment in this particular direction while seeking to gain in\nothers. If there were no record of the fact that light brings objects to\nthe recognition of the mind through the agency of the eye, the sense of\nsight in an animal would be considered by men devoid of it as\nadaptability to extraordinary circumstances, or instinct. So it is that\nanimals often see clearly where to the sense of man there is only\ndarkness; such sight is not irresponsive action without consciousness\nof a purpose. Man is not very magnanimous. Instead of giving credit to\nthe lower animals for superior perception in many directions, he denies\nto them the conscious possession of powers imperfectly developed in\nmankind. We egotistically aim to raise ourselves, and do so in our own\nestimation by clothing the actions of the lower animals in a garment of\nirresponsibility. Because we can not understand the inwardness of their\npower, we assert that they act by the influence of instinct. The term\ninstinct, as I would define it, is an expression applied by men to a\nseries of senses which man possesses, but has not developed. The word is\nused by man to characterize the mental superiority of other animals in\ncertain directions where his own senses are defective. Instead of\ncrediting animals with these, to them, invaluable faculties, man\nconceitedly says they are involuntary actions. Ignorant of their mental\nstatus, man is too arrogant to admit that lower animals are superior to\nhim in any way. But we are not consistent. Is it not true that in the\ndirection in which you question my power, some men by cultivation often\nbecome expert beyond their fellows? and such men have also given very\nlittle systematic study to subjects connected with these undeniable\nmental qualities. The hunter will hold his course in utter darkness,\npassing inequalities in the ground, and avoiding obstructions he can not\nsee. The fact of his superiority in this way, over others, is not\nquestioned, although he can not explain his methods nor understand how\nhe operates. His quickened sense is often as much entitled to be called\ninstinct as is the divining power of the carrier pigeon. If scholars\nwould cease to devote their entire energies to the development of the\nmaterial, artistic, or scientific part of modern civilization, and turn\ntheir attention to other forms of mental culture, many beauties and\npowers of Nature now unknown would be revealed. However, this can not\nbe, for under existing conditions, the strife for food and warmth is the\nmost important struggle that engages mankind, and controls our actions.\nIn a time that is surely to come, however, when the knowledge of all men\nis united into a comprehensive whole, the book of life, illuminated\nthereby, will contain many beautiful pages that may be easily read, but\nwhich are now not suspected to exist. The power of the magnet is not\nuniform--engineers know that the needle of the compass inexplicably\ndeviates from time to time as a line is run over the earth's surface,\nbut they also know that aberrations of the needle finally correct\nthemselves. The temporary variations of a few degrees that occur in the\nrunning of a compass line are usually overcome after a time, and without\na change of course, the disturbed needle swerves back, and again points\nto the calculated direction, as is shown by the vernier. Should I err in\nmy course, it would be by a trifle only, and we could not go far astray\nbefore I would unconsciously discover the true path. I carry my magnet\nin my mind.\"\n\nMany such dissertations or explanations concerning related questions\nwere subsequently made in what I then considered a very impressive,\nthough always unsatisfactory, manner. I recall those episodes now, after\nother more remarkable experiences which are yet to be related, and\nrecord them briefly with little wonderment, because I have gone through\nadventures which demonstrate that there is nothing improbable in the\nstatements, and I will not consume time with further details of this\npart of my journey.\n\nWe leisurely traversed State after State, crossed rivers, mountains and\nseemingly interminable forests. The ultimate object of our travels, a\nlocation in Kentucky, I afterward learned, led my companion to guide me\nby a roundabout course to Wheeling, Virginia, by the usual mountain\nroads of that day, instead of going, as he might perhaps have much more\neasily done, via Buffalo and the Lake Shore to Northern Ohio, and then\nsoutherly across the country. He said in explanation, that the time lost\nat the beginning of our journey by this route, was more than recompensed\nby the ease of the subsequent Ohio River trip. Upon reaching Wheeling,\nhe disposed of the team, and we embarked on a keel boat, and journeyed\ndown the Ohio to Cincinnati. The river was falling when we started, and\nbecame very low before Cincinnati was reached, too low for steamers, and\nour trip in that flat-bottomed boat, on the sluggish current of the\ntortuous stream, proved tedious and slow. Arriving at Cincinnati, my\nguide decided to wait for a rise in the river, designing then to\ncomplete our journey on a steamboat. I spent several days in Cincinnati\nquite pleasantly, expecting to continue our course on the steamer\n\"Tecumseh,\" then in port, and ready for departure. At the last moment my\nguide changed his mind, and instead of embarking on that boat, we took\npassage on the steamer \"George Washington,\" leaving Shipping-Port\nWednesday, December 13, 1826.\n\nDuring that entire journey, from the commencement to our final\ndestination, my guide paid all the bills, and did not want either for\nmoney or attention from the people with whom we came in contact. He\nseemed everywhere a stranger, and yet was possessed of a talisman that\nopened every door to which he applied, and which gave us unlimited\naccommodations wherever he asked them. When the boat landed at\nSmithland, Kentucky, a village on the bank of the Ohio, just above\nPaducah, we disembarked, and my guide then for the first time seemed\nmentally disturbed.\n\n\"Our journey together is nearly over,\" he said; \"in a few days my\nresponsibility for you will cease. Nerve yourself for the future, and\nbear its trials and its pleasures manfully. I may never see you again,\nbut as you are even now conspicuous in our history, and will be closely\nconnected with the development of the plan in which I am also\ninterested, although I am destined to take a different part, I shall\nprobably hear of you again.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n A CAVERN DISCOVERED.--BISWELL'S HILL.\n\n\nWe stopped that night at a tavern in Smithland. Leaving this place after\ndinner the next day, on foot, we struck through the country, into the\nbottom lands of the Cumberland River, traveling leisurely, lingering for\nhours in the course of a circuitous tramp of only a few miles. Although\nit was the month of December, the climate was mild and balmy. In my\nformer home, a similar time of year would have been marked with snow,\nsleet, and ice, and I could not but draw a contrast between the two\nlocalities. How different also the scenery from that of my native State.\nGreat timber trees, oak, poplar, hickory, were in majestic possession of\nlarge tracts of territory, in the solitude of which man, so far as\nevidences of his presence were concerned, had never before trodden. From\ntime to time we passed little clearings that probably were to be\nenlarged to thrifty plantations in the future, and finally we crossed\nthe Cumberland River. That night we rested with Mr. Joseph Watts, a\nwealthy and cultured land owner, who resided on the river's bank. After\nleaving his home the next morning, we journeyed slowly, very slowly, my\nguide seemingly passing with reluctance into the country. He had become\na very pleasant companion, and his conversation was very entertaining.\nWe struck the sharp point of a ridge the morning we left Mr. Watts'\nhospitable house. It was four or five miles distant, but on the opposite\nside of the Cumberland, from Smithland. Here a steep bluff broke through\nthe bottom land to the river's edge, the base of the bisected point\nbeing washed by the Cumberland River, which had probably cut its way\nthrough the stony mineral of this ridge in ages long passed. We climbed\nto its top and sat upon the pinnacle, and from that point of commanding\nobservation I drank in the beauties of the scene around me. The river at\nour feet wound gracefully before us, and disappeared in both\ndirections, its extremes dissolving in a bed of forest. A great black\nbluff, far up the stream, rose like a mountain, upon the left side of\nthe river; bottom lands were about us, and hills appeared across the\nriver in the far distance--towards the Tennessee River. With regret I\nfinally drew my eyes from the vision, and we resumed the journey. We\nfollowed the left bank of the river to the base of the black\nbluff,--\"Biswell's Hill,\" a squatter called it,--and then skirted the\nside of that hill, passing along precipitous stone bluffs and among\nstunted cedars. Above us towered cliff over cliff, almost\nperpendicularly; below us rolled the river.\n\n[Illustration: SECTION OF KENTUCKY, NEAR SMITHLAND, IN WHICH THE\nENTRANCE TO THE KENTUCKY CAVERN IS SAID TO BE LOCATED.]\n\nI was deeply impressed by the changing beauties of this strange Kentucky\nscenery, but marveled at the fact that while I became light-hearted and\nenthusiastic, my guide grew correspondingly despondent and gloomy. From\ntime to time he lapsed into thoughtful silence, and once I caught his\neye directed toward me in a manner that I inferred to imply either pity\nor envy. We passed Biswell's Bluff, and left the Cumberland River at its\nupper extremity, where another small creek empties into the river.\nThence, after ascending the creek some distance, we struck across the\ncountry, finding it undulating and fertile, with here and there a small\nclearing. During this journey we either camped out at night, or stopped\nwith a resident, when one was to be found in that sparsely settled\ncountry. Sometimes there were exasperating intervals between our meals;\nbut we did not suffer, for we carried with us supplies of food, such as\ncheese and crackers, purchased in Smithland, for emergencies. We thus\nproceeded a considerable distance into Livingston County, Kentucky.\n\nI observed remarkable sinks in the earth, sometimes cone-shaped, again\nprecipitous. These cavities were occasionally of considerable size and\ndepth, and they were more numerous in the uplands than in the bottoms.\nThey were somewhat like the familiar \"sink-holes\" of New York State, but\nmonstrous in comparison. The first that attracted my attention was near\nthe Cumberland River, just before we reached Biswell's Hill. It was\nabout forty feet deep and thirty in diameter, with precipitous stone\nsides, shrubbery growing therein in exceptional spots where loose earth\nhad collected on shelves of stone that cropped out along its rugged\nsides. The bottom of the depression was flat and fertile, covered with a\nluxuriant mass of vegetation. On one side of the base of the gigantic\nbowl, a cavern struck down into the earth. I stood upon the edge of this\nfunnel-like sink, and marveled at its peculiar appearance. A spirit of\ncuriosity, such as often influences men when an unusual natural scene\npresents itself, possessed me. I clambered down, swinging from brush to\nbrush, and stepping from shelving-rock to shelving-rock, until I reached\nthe bottom of the hollow, and placing my hand above the black hole in\nits center, I perceived that a current of cold air was rushing\ntherefrom, upward. I probed with a long stick, but the direction of the\nopening was tortuous, and would not admit of examination in that manner.\nI dropped a large pebble-stone into the orifice; the pebble rolled and\nclanked down, down, and at last, the sound died away in the distance.\n\n\"I wish that I could go into the cavity as that stone has done, and find\nthe secrets of this cave,\" I reflected, the natural love of exploration\npossessing me as it probably does most men.\n\nMy companion above, seated on the brink of the stone wall, replied to my\nthoughts: \"Your wish shall be granted. You have requested that which has\nalready been laid out for you. You will explore where few men have\npassed before, and will have the privilege of following your destiny\ninto a realm of natural wonders. A fertile field of investigation awaits\nyou, such as will surpass your most vivid imaginings. Come and seat\nyourself beside me, for it is my duty now to tell you something about\nthe land we are approaching, the cavern fields of Kentucky.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n THE PUNCH-BOWLS AND CAVERNS OF KENTUCKY.--\"INTO THE UNKNOWN\n COUNTRY.\"\n\n\n\"This part of Kentucky borders a field of caverns that reaches from near\nthe State of Tennessee to the Ohio River, and from the mouth of the\nCumberland, eastward to and beyond the center of the State. This great\narea is of irregular outline, and as yet has been little explored.\nUnderneath the surface are layers of limestone and sandstone rock, the\ndeposits ranging from ten to one hundred and fifty feet in thickness,\nand often great masses of conglomerate appear. This conglomerate\nsometimes caps the ridges, and varies in thickness from a few feet only,\nto sixty, or even a hundred, feet. It is of a diversified character,\nsometimes largely composed of pebbles cemented together by iron ore into\ncompact beds, while again it passes abruptly into gritty sandstone, or a\nfine-grained compact rock destitute of pebbles. Sometimes the\nconglomerate rests directly on the limestone, but in the section about\nus, more often argillaceous shales or veins of coal intervene, and\noccasionally inferior and superior layers of conglomerate are separated\nby a bed of coal. In addition, lead-bearing veins now and then crop up,\nthe crystals of galena being disseminated through masses of fluor-spar,\ncalc-spar, limestone and clay, which fill fissures between tilted walls\nof limestone and hard quartzose sandstone. Valleys, hills, and\nmountains, grow out of this remarkable crust. Rivers and creeks flow\nthrough and under it in crevices, either directly upon the bedstone or\nover deposits of clay which underlie it. In some places, beds of coal or\nslate alternate with layers of the lime rock; in others, the interspace\nis clay and sand. Sometimes the depth of the several limestone and\nconglomerate deposits is great, and they are often honeycombed by\ninnumerable transverse and diagonal spaces. Water drips have here and\nthere washed out the more friable earth and stone, forming grottoes\nwhich are as yet unknown to men, but which will be discovered to be\nwonderful and fantastic beyond anything of a like nature now familiar.\nIn other places cavities exist between shelves of rock that lie one\nabove the other--monstrous openings caused by the erosive action of\nrivers now lost, but that have flowed during unnumbered ages past; great\nparallel valleys and gigantic chambers, one over the other, remaining to\ntell the story of these former torrents. Occasionally the weight of a\nportion of the disintegrating rock above becomes too great for its\ntensile strength and the material crumbles and falls, producing caverns\nsometimes reaching so near to the earth's surface, as to cause sinks in\nits crust. These sinks, when first formed, as a rule, present clear rock\nfractures, and immediately after their formation there is usually a\nwater-way beneath. In the course of time soil collects on their sides,\nthey become cone-shaped hollows from the down-slidings of earth, and\nthen vegetation appears on the living soil; trees grow within them, and\nin many places the sloping sides of great earth bowls of this nature\nare, after untold years, covered with the virgin forest; magnificent\ntimber trees growing on soil that has been stratified over and upon\ndecayed monarchs of the forest whose remains, imbedded in the earth,\nspeak of the ages that have passed since the convulsions that made the\ndepressions which, notwithstanding the accumulated debris, are still a\nhundred feet or more in depth. If the drain or exit at the vortex of one\nof these sinks becomes clogged, which often occurs, the entire cavity\nfills with water, and a pond results. Again, a slight orifice reaching\nfar beneath the earth's surface may permit the soil to be gradually\nwashed into a subterranean creek, and thus are formed great bowls, like\nfunnels sunk in the earth--Kentucky punch-bowls.\n\n\"Take the country about us, especially towards the Mammoth Cave, and for\nmiles beyond, the landscape in certain localities is pitted with this\ndescription of sinks, some recent, others very old. Many are small, but\ndeep; others are large and shallow. Ponds often of great depth,\ncuriously enough overflowing and giving rise to a creek, are to be found\non a ridge, telling of underground supply springs, not outlets, beneath.\nChains of such sinks, like a row of huge funnels, often appear; the soil\nbetween them is slowly washed through their exit into the river,\nflowing in the depths below, and as the earth that separates them is\ncarried away by the subterranean streams, the bowls coalesce and a\nravine, closed at both ends, results. Along the bottom of such a ravine,\na creek may flow, rushing from its natural tunnel at one end of the\nline, and disappearing in a gulf at the other. The stream begins in\nmystery, and ends in unfathomed darkness. Near Marion, Hurricane Creek\nthus disappears, and, so far as men know, is lost to sight forever. Near\nCridersville, in this neighborhood, a valley such as I have described,\ntakes in the surface floods of a large tract of country. The waters that\nrun down its sides, during a storm form a torrent, and fence-rails,\ntimbers, and other objects are gulped into the chasm where the creek\nplunges into the earth, and they never appear again. This part of\nKentucky is the most remarkable portion of the known world, and although\nnow neglected, in a time to come is surely destined to an extended\ndistinction. I have referred only to the surface, the skin formation of\nthis honeycombed labyrinth, the entrance to the future wonderland of the\nworld. Portions of such a superficial cavern maze have been traversed by\nman in the ramifications known as the Mammoth Cave, but deeper than man\nhas yet explored, the subcutaneous structure of that series of caverns\nis yet to be investigated. The Mammoth Cave as now traversed is simply a\nsuperficial series of grottoes and passages overlying the deeper cavern\nfield that I have described. The explored chain of passages is of great\ninterest to men, it is true, but of minor importance compared to others\nyet unknown, being in fact, the result of mere surface erosion. The\nriver that bisects the cave, just beneath the surface of the earth, and\nknown as Echo River, is a miniature stream: there are others more\nmagnificent that flow majestically far, far beneath it. As we descend\ninto the earth in that locality, caverns multiply in number and increase\nin size, retaining the general configuration of those I have described.\nThe layers of rock are thicker, the intervening spaces broader; and the\nspaces stretch in increasingly expanded chambers for miles, while high\nabove each series of caverns the solid ceilings of stone arch and\ninterarch. Sheltered under these subterrene alcoves are streams, lakes,\nrivers and water-falls. Near the surface of the earth such waters often\nteem with aquatic life, and some of the caves are inhabited by species\nof birds, reptiles and mammals as yet unknown to men, creatures\npossessed of senses and organs that are different from any we find with\nsurface animals, and also apparently defective in particulars that would\nstartle persons acquainted only with creatures that live in the\nsunshine. It is a world beneath a world, a world within a world--\" My\nguide abruptly stopped.\n\nI sat entranced, marveling at the young-old adept's knowledge, admiring\nhis accomplishments. I gazed into the cavity that yawned beneath me, and\nimagined its possible but to me invisible secrets, enraptured with the\nthought of searching into them. Who would not feel elated at the\nprospect of an exploration, such as I foresaw might be pursued in my\nimmediate future? I had often been charmed with narrative descriptions\nof discoveries, and book accounts of scientific investigations, but I\nhad never pictured myself as a participant in such fascinating\nenterprises.\n\n\"Indeed, indeed,\" I cried exultingly; \"lead me to this Wonderland, show\nme the entrance to this Subterranean World, and I promise willingly to\ndo as you bid.\"\n\n\"Bravo!\" he replied, \"your heart is right, your courage sufficient; I\nhave not disclosed a thousandth part of the wonders which I have\nknowledge of, and which await your research, and probably I have not\ngained even an insight into the mysteries that, if your courage permits,\nyou will be privileged to comprehend. Your destiny lies beyond, far\nbeyond that which I have pictured or experienced; and I, notwithstanding\nmy opportunities, have no conception of its end, for at the critical\nmoment my heart faltered--I can therefore only describe the beginning.\"\n\nThus at the lower extremity of Biswell's Hill, I was made aware of the\nfact that, within a short time, I should be separated from my\nsympathetic guide, and that it was to be my duty to explore alone, or in\nother company, some portion of these Kentucky cavern deeps, and I longed\nfor the beginning of my underground journey. Heavens! how different\nwould have been my future life could I then have realized my position!\nWould that I could have seen the end. After a few days of uneventful\ntravel, we rested, one afternoon, in a hilly country that before us\nappeared to be more rugged, even mountainous. We had wandered leisurely,\nand were now at a considerable distance from the Cumberland River, the\naim of my guide being, as I surmised, to evade a direct approach to some\nobject of interest which I must not locate exactly, and yet which I\nshall try to describe accurately enough for identification by a person\nfamiliar with the topography of that section. We stood on the side of a\nstony, sloping hill, back of which spread a wooded, undulating valley.\n\n\"I remember to have passed along a creek in that valley,\" I remarked,\nlooking back over our pathway. \"It appeared to rise from this direction,\nbut the source ends abruptly in this chain of hills.\"\n\n\"The stream is beneath us,\" he answered. Advancing a few paces, he\nbrought to my attention, on the hillside, an opening in the earth. This\naperture was irregular in form, about the diameter of a well, and\ndescended perpendicularly into the stony crust. I leaned far over the\norifice, and heard the gurgle of rushing water beneath. The guide\ndropped a heavy stone into the gloomy shaft, and in some seconds a dull\nsplash announced its plunge into underground water. Then he leaned over\nthe stony edge, and--could I be mistaken?--seemed to signal to some one\nbeneath; but it must be imagination on my part, I argued to myself, even\nagainst my very sense of sight. Rising, and taking me by the hand, my\nguardian spoke:\n\n\"Brother, we approach the spot where you and I must separate. I serve my\nmasters and am destined to go where I shall next be commanded; you will\ndescend into the earth, as you have recently desired to do. Here we\npart, most likely forever. This rocky fissure will admit the last ray of\nsunlight on your path.\"\n\nMy heart failed. How often are we courageous in daylight and timid by\nnight? Men unflinchingly face in sunshine dangers at which they shudder\nin the darkness.\n\n\"How am I to descend into that abyss?\" I gasped. \"The sides are\nperpendicular, the depth is unknown!\" Then I cried in alarm, the sense\nof distrust deepening: \"Do you mean to drown me; is it for this you have\nled me away from my native State, from friends, home and kindred? You\nhave enticed me into this wilderness. I have been decoyed, and, like a\nfoolish child, have willingly accompanied my destroyer. You feared to\nmurder me in my distant home; the earth could not have hidden me;\nNiagara even might have given up my body to dismay the murderers! In\nthis underground river in the wilds of Kentucky, all trace of my\nexistence will disappear forever.\"\n\nI was growing furious. My frenzied eyes searched the ground for some\nmissile of defense. By strange chance some one had left, on that\nsolitary spot, a rude weapon, providentially dropped for my use, I\nthought. It was a small iron bolt or bar, somewhat rusted. I threw\nmyself upon the earth, and, as I did so, picked this up quickly, and\nsecreted it within my bosom. Then I arose and resumed my stormy\ndenunciation:\n\n\"You have played your part well, you have led your unresisting victim to\nthe sacrifice, but if I am compelled to plunge into this black grave,\nyou shall go with me!\" I shrieked in desperation, and suddenly threw my\narms around the gentle adept, intending to hurl him into the chasm. At\nthis point I felt my hands seized from behind in a cold, clammy,\nirresistible embrace, my fingers were loosed by a strong grasp, and I\nturned, to find myself confronted by a singular looking being, who\nquietly said:\n\n\"You are not to be destroyed; we wish only to do your bidding.\"\n\nThe speaker stood in a stooping position, with his face towards the\nearth as if to shelter it from the sunshine. He was less than five feet\nin height. His arms and legs were bare, and his skin, the color of light\nblue putty, glistened in the sunlight like the slimy hide of a water\ndog. He raised his head, and I shuddered in affright as I beheld that\nhis face was not that of a human. His forehead extended in an unbroken\nplane from crown to cheek bone, and the chubby tip of an abortive nose\nwithout nostrils formed a short projection near the center of the level\nridge which represented a countenance. There was no semblance of an eye,\nfor there were no sockets. Yet his voice was singularly perfect. His\nface, if face it could be called, was wet, and water dripped from all\nparts of his slippery person. Yet, repulsive as he looked, I shuddered\nmore at the remembrance of the touch of that cold, clammy hand than at\nthe sight of his figure, for a dead man could not have chilled me as he\nhad done, with his sappy skin, from which the moisture seemed to ooze as\nfrom the hide of a water lizard.\n\n[Illustration: \"CONFRONTED BY A SINGULAR LOOKING BEING.\"]\n\nTurning to my guide, this freak of nature said, softly:\n\n\"I have come in obedience to the signal.\"\n\nI realized at once that alone with these two I was powerless, and that\nto resist would be suicidal. Instantly my effervescing passion subsided,\nand I expressed no further surprise at this sudden and remarkable\napparition, but mentally acquiesced. I was alone and helpless; rage gave\nplace to inertia in the despondency that followed the realization of my\nhopeless condition. The grotesque newcomer who, though sightless,\npossessed a strange instinct, led us to the base of the hill a few\nhundred feet away, and there, gushing into the light from the rocky\nbluff, I saw a magnificent stream issuing many feet in width. This was\nthe head-waters of the mysterious brook that I had previously noticed.\nIt flowed from an archway in the solid stone, springing directly out of\nthe rock-bound cliff; beautiful and picturesque in its surroundings. The\nlimpid water, clear and sparkling, issued from the unknown source that\nwas typical of darkness, but the brook of crystal leaped into a world of\nsunshine, light and freedom.\n\n\"Brother,\" said my companion, \"this spring emerging from this prison of\nearth images to us what humanity will be when the prisoning walls of\nignorance that now enthrall him are removed. Man has heretofore relied\nchiefly for his advancement, both mental and physical, on knowledge\ngained from so-called scientific explorations and researches with\nmatter, from material studies rather than spiritual, all his\ninvestigations having been confined to the crude, coarse substance of\nthe surface of the globe. Spiritualistic investigations, unfortunately,\nare considered by scientific men too often as reaching backward only.\nThe religions of the world clasp hands with, and lean upon, the dead\npast, it is true, but point to a living future. Man must yet search by\nthe agency of senses and spirit, the unfathomed mysteries that lie\nbeneath his feet and over his head, and he who refuses to bow to the\nCreator and honor his handiwork discredits himself. When this work is\naccomplished, as it yet will be, the future man, able then to comprehend\nthe problem of life in its broader significance, drawing from all\ndirections the facts necessary to his mental advancement, will have\nreached a state in which he can enjoy bodily comfort and supreme\nspiritual perfection, while he is yet an earth-bound mortal. In\nhastening this consummation, it is necessary that an occasional human\nlife should be lost to the world, but such sacrifices are noble--yes,\nsublime, because contributing to the future exaltation of our race. The\nsecret workers in the sacred order of which you are still a member, have\never taken an important part in furthering such a system of evolution.\nThis feature of our work is unknown to brethren of the ordinary\nfraternity, and the individual research of each secret messenger is\nunguessed, by the craft at large. Hence it is that the open workers of\nour order, those initiated by degrees only, who in lodge rooms carry on\ntheir beneficent labors among men, have had no hand other than as agents\nin your removal, and no knowledge of your present or future movements.\nTheir function is to keep together our organization on earth, and from\nthem only an occasional member is selected, as you have been, to perform\nspecial duties in certain adventurous studies. Are you willing to go on\nthis journey of exploration? and are you brave enough to meet the trials\nyou have invited?\"\n\nAgain my enthusiasm arose, and I felt the thrill experienced by an\ninvestigator who stands on the brink of an important discovery, and\nneeds but courage to advance, and I answered, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then, farewell; this archway is the entrance that will admit you into\nyour arcanum of usefulness. This mystic Brother, though a stranger to\nyou, has long been apprised of our coming, and it was he who sped me on\nmy journey to seek you, and who has since been waiting for us, and is to\nbe your guide during the first stages of your subterrene progress. He is\na Friend, and, if you trust him, will protect you from harm. You will\nfind the necessaries of life supplied, for I have traversed part of your\ncoming road; that part I therefore know, but, as I have said, you are to\ngo deeper into the unexplored,--yes, into and beyond the Beyond, until\nfinally you will come to the gateway that leads into the 'Unknown\nCountry.'\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n FAREWELL TO GOD'S SUNSHINE.--THE ECHO OF THE CRY.\n\n\nThus speaking, my quiet leader, who had so long been as a shepherd to my\nwandering feet, on the upper earth, grasped my hands tightly, and placed\nthem in those of my new companion, whose clammy fingers closed over them\nas with a grip of iron. The mysterious being, now my custodian, turned\ntowards the creek, drawing me after him, and together we silently and\nsolemnly waded beneath the stone archway. As I passed under the shadow\nof that dismal, yawning cliff, I turned my head to take one last glimpse\nof the world I had known--that \"warm precinct of the cheerful day,\"--and\ntears sprang to my eyes. I thought of life, family, friends,--of all for\nwhich men live--and a melancholy vision arose, that of my lost, lost\nhome. My dear companion of the journey that had just ended stood in the\nsunlight on the banks of the rippling stream, gazing at us intently, and\nwaved an affectionate farewell. My uncouth new associate (guide or\nmaster, whichever he might be), of the journey to come, clasped me\nfirmly by the arms, and waded slowly onward, thrusting me steadily\nagainst the cold current, and with irresistible force pressed me into\nthe thickening darkness. The daylight disappeared, the pathway\ncontracted, the water deepened and became more chilly. We were\nconstrained to bow our heads in order to avoid the overhanging vault of\nstone; the water reached to my chin, and now the down-jutting roof\ntouched the crown of my head; then I shuddered convulsively as the last\nray of daylight disappeared.\n\nHad it not been for my companion, I know that I should have sunk in\ndespair, and drowned; but with a firm hand he held my head above the\nwater, and steadily pushed me onward. I had reached the extreme of\ndespondency: I neither feared nor cared for life nor death, and I\nrealized that, powerless to control my own acts, my fate, the future, my\nexistence depended on the strange being beside me. I was mysteriously\nsustained, however, by a sense of bodily security, such as comes over us\nas when in the hands of an experienced guide we journey through a\nwilderness, for I felt that my pilot of the underworld did not purpose\nto destroy me. We halted a moment, and then, as a faint light overspread\nus, my eyeless guide directed me to look upward.\n\n\"We now stand beneath the crevice which you were told by your former\nguide would admit the last ray of sunlight on your path. I also say to\nyou, this struggling ray of sunlight is to be your last for years.\"\n\nI gazed above me, feeling all the wretchedness of a dying man who, with\nfaculties intact, might stand on the dark edge of the hillside of\neternity, glancing back into the bright world; and that small opening\nfar, far overhead, seemed as the gate to Paradise Lost. Many a person,\nassured of ascending at will, has stood at the bottom of a deep well or\nshaft to a mine, and even then felt the undescribable sensation of\ndread, often terror, that is produced by such a situation. Awe, mystery,\nuncertainty of life and future superadded, may express my sensation. I\ntrembled, shrinking in horror from my captor and struggled violently.\n\n\"Hold, hold,\" I begged, as one involuntarily prays a surgeon to delay\nthe incision of the amputating knife, \"just one moment.\" My companion,\nunheeding, moved on, the light vanished instantly, and we were\nsurrounded by total darkness. God's sunshine was blotted out.\n\n[Illustration: \"THIS STRUGGLING RAY OF SUNLIGHT IS TO BE YOUR LAST FOR\nYEARS.\"]\n\nThen I again became unconcerned; I was not now responsible for my own\nexistence, and the feeling that I experienced when a prisoner in the\nclosed carriage returned. I grew careless as to my fate, and with stolid\nindifference struggled onward as we progressed slowly against the\ncurrent of water. I began to interest myself in speculations regarding\nour surroundings, and the object or outcome of our journey. In places\nthe water was shallow, scarce reaching to our ankles; again it was so\ndeep that we could wade only with exertion, and at times the passage up\nwhich we toiled was so narrow, that it would scarcely admit us. After a\nlong, laborious stemming of the unseen brook, my companion directed me\nto close my mouth, hold my nostrils with my fingers, and stoop; almost\ndiving with me beneath the water, he drew me through the submerged\ncrevice, and we ascended into an open chamber, and left the creek behind\nus. I fancied that we were in a large room, and as I shouted aloud to\ntest my hypothesis, echo after echo answered, until at last the cry\nreverberated and died away in distant murmurs. We were evidently in a\ngreat pocket or cavern, through which my guide now walked rapidly;\nindeed, he passed along with unerring footsteps, as certain of his\ncourse as I might be on familiar ground in full daylight. I perceived\nthat he systematically evaded inequalities that I could not anticipate\nnor see. He would tell me to step up or down, as the surroundings\nrequired, and we ascended or descended accordingly. Our path turned to\nthe right or the left from time to time, but my eyeless guide passed\nthrough what were evidently the most tortuous windings without a mishap.\nI wondered much at this gift of knowledge, and at last overcame my\nreserve sufficiently to ask how we could thus unerringly proceed in\nutter darkness. The reply was:\n\n\"The path is plainly visible to me; I see as clearly in pitch darkness\nas you can in sunshine.\"\n\n\"Explain yourself further,\" I requested.\n\nHe replied, \"Not yet;\" and continued, \"you are weary, we will rest.\"\n\nHe conducted me to a seat on a ledge, and left me for a time. Returning\nsoon, he placed in my hands food which I ate with novel relish. The\npabulum seemed to be of vegetable origin, though varieties of it had a\npeculiar flesh-like flavor. Several separate and distinct substances\nwere contained in the queer viands, some portions savoring of wholesome\nflesh, while others possessed the delicate flavors of various fruits,\nsuch as the strawberry and the pineapple. The strange edibles were of a\npulpy texture, homogeneous in consistence, parts being juicy and acid\nlike grateful fruits. Some portions were in slices or films that I could\nhold in my hand like sections of a velvet melon, and yet were in many\nrespects unlike any other food that I had ever tasted. There was neither\nrind nor seed; it seemed as though I were eating the gills of a fish,\nand in answer to my question the guide remarked:\n\n\"Yes; it is the gill, but not the gill of a fish. You will be instructed\nin due time.\" I will add that after this, whenever necessary, we were\nsupplied with food, but both thirst and hunger disappeared altogether\nbefore our underground journey was finished.\n\nAfter a while we again began our journey, which we continued in what was\nto me absolute darkness. My strength seemed to endure the fatigue to a\nwonderful degree, notwithstanding that we must have been walking hour\nafter hour, and I expressed a curiosity about the fact. My guide replied\nthat the atmosphere of the cavern possessed an intrinsic vitalizing\npower that neutralized fatigue, \"or,\" he said, \"there is here an\ninherent constitutional energy derived from an active gaseous substance\nthat belongs to cavern air at this depth, and sustains the life force by\ncontributing directly to its conservation, taking the place of food and\ndrink.\"\n\n\"I do not understand,\" I said.\n\n\"No; and you do not comprehend how ordinary air supports mind and\nvitalizes muscle, and at the same time wears out both muscle and all\nother tissues. These are facts which are not satisfactorily explained by\nscientific statements concerning oxygenation of the blood. As we descend\ninto the earth we find an increase in the life force of the cavern air.\"\n\nThis reference to surface earth recalled my former life, and led me to\ncontrast my present situation with that I had forfeited. I was seized\nwith an uncontrollable longing for home, and a painful craving for the\npast took possession of my heart, but with a strong effort I shook off\nthe sensations. We traveled on and on in silence and in darkness, and I\nthought again of the strange remark of my former guide who had said:\n\"You are destined to go deeper into the unknown; yes, into and beyond\nthe Beyond.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n A ZONE OF LIGHT DEEP WITHIN THE EARTH.\n\n\n\"Oh! for one glimpse of light, a ray of sunshine!\"\n\nIn reply to this my mental ejaculation, my guide said: \"Can not you\nperceive that the darkness is becoming less intense?\"\n\n\"No,\" I answered, \"I can not; night is absolute.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\" he asked. \"Cover your eyes with your hands, then uncover\nand open them.\" I did so and fancied that by contrast a faint gray hue\nwas apparent.\n\n\"This must be imagination.\"\n\n\"No; we now approach a zone of earth light; let us hasten on.\"\n\n\"A zone of light deep in the earth! Incomprehensible! Incredible!\" I\nmuttered, and yet as we went onward and time passed the darkness was\nless intense. The barely perceptible hue became gray and somber, and\nthen of a pearly translucence, and although I could not distinguish the\noutline of objects, yet I unquestionably perceived light.\n\n\"I am amazed! What can be the cause of this phenomenon? What is the\nnature of this mysterious halo that surrounds us?\" I held my open hand\nbefore my eyes, and perceived the darkness of my spread fingers.\n\n\"It is light, it is light,\" I shouted, \"it is really light!\" and from\nnear and from far the echoes of that subterranean cavern answered back\njoyfully, \"It is light, it is light!\"\n\nI wept in joy, and threw my arms about my guide, forgetting in the\necstasy his clammy cuticle, and danced in hysterical glee and\nalternately laughed and cried. How vividly I realized then that the\nimprisoned miner would give a world of gold, his former god, for a ray\nof light.\n\n\"Compose yourself; this emotional exhibition is an evidence of weakness;\nan investigator should neither become depressed over a reverse, nor\nunduly enthusiastic over a fortunate discovery.\"\n\n\"But we approach the earth's surface? Soon I will be back in the\nsunshine again.\"\n\n\"Upon the contrary, we have been continually descending into the earth,\nand we are now ten miles or more beneath the level of the ocean.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WE APPROACH DAYLIGHT, I CAN SEE YOUR FORM.\"]\n\nI shrank back, hesitated, and in despondency gazed at his hazy outline,\nthen, as if palsied, sank upon the stony floor; but as I saw the light\nbefore me, I leaped up and shouted:\n\n\"What you say is not true; we approach daylight, I can see your form.\"\n\n\"Listen to me,\" he said. \"Can not you understand that I have led you\ncontinually down a steep descent, and that for hours there has been no\nstep upward? With but little exertion you have walked this distance\nwithout becoming wearied, and you could not, without great fatigue, have\nascended for so long a period. You are entering a zone of inner earth\nlight; we are in the surface, the upper edge of it. Let us hasten on,\nfor when this cavern darkness is at an end--and I will say we have\nnearly passed that limit--your courage will return, and then we will\nrest.\"\n\n\"You surely do not speak the truth; science and philosophy, and I am\nsomewhat versed in both, have never told me of such a light.\"\n\n\"Can philosophers more than speculate about that which they have not\nexperienced if they have no data from which to calculate? Name the\nstudent in science who has reached this depth in earth, or has seen a\nman to tell him of these facts?\"\n\n\"I can not.\"\n\n\"Then why should you have expected any of them to describe our\nsurroundings? Misguided men will torture science by refuting facts with\ntheories; but a fact is no less a fact when science opposes.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"SEATED HIMSELF ON A NATURAL BENCH OF STONE.\"]\n\nI recognized the force of his arguments, and cordially grasped his hand\nin indication of submission. We continued our journey, and rapidly\ntraveled downward and onward. The light gradually increased in\nintensity, until at length the cavern near about us seemed to be as\nbright as diffused daylight could have made it. There was apparently no\ncentral point of radiation; the light was such as to pervade and exist\nin the surrounding space, somewhat as the vapor of phosphorus spreads a\nself-luminous haze throughout the bubble into which it is blown. The\nvisual agent surrounding us had a permanent, self-existing luminosity,\nand was a pervading, bright, unreachable essence that, without an\nobvious origin, diffused itself equally in all directions. It reminded\nme of the form of light that in previous years I had seen described as\nepipolic dispersion, and as I refer to the matter I am of the opinion\nthat man will yet find that the same cause produces both phenomena. I\nwas informed now by the sense of sight, that we were in a cavern room of\nconsiderable size. The apartment presented somewhat the appearance of\nthe usual underground caverns that I had seen pictured in books, and yet\nwas different. Stalactites, stalagmites, saline incrustations,\noccurring occasionally reminded me of travelers' stories, but these\nobjects were not so abundant as might be supposed. Such accretions or\ndeposits of saline substances as I noticed were also disappointing, in\nthat, instead of having a dazzling brilliancy, like frosted snow\ncrystals, they were of a uniform gray or brown hue. Indeed, my former\nimaginative mental creations regarding underground caverns were\ndispelled in this somber stone temple, for even the floor and the\nfragments of stone that, in considerable quantities, strewed the floor,\nwere of the usual rock formations of upper earth. The glittering\ncrystals of snowy white or rainbow tints (fairy caverns) pictured by\ntravelers, and described as inexpressibly grand and beautiful in other\ncavern labyrinths, were wanting here, and I saw only occasional small\nclusters of quartz crystals that were other than of a dull gray color.\nFinally, after hours or perhaps days of travel, interspersed with\nrestings, conversations, and arguments, amid which I could form no idea\nof the flight of time, my companion seated himself on a natural bench of\nstone, and directed me to rest likewise. He broke the silence, and spoke\nas follows:\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n VITALIZED DARKNESS.--THE NARROWS IN SCIENCE.\n\n\n\"In studying any branch of science men begin and end with an unknown.\nThe chemist accepts as data such conditions of matter as he finds about\nhim, and connects ponderable matter with the displays of energy that\nhave impressed his senses, building therefrom a span of theoretical\nscience, but he can not formulate as yet an explanation regarding the\norigin or the end of either mind, matter, or energy. The piers\nsupporting his fabric stand in a profound invisible gulf, into which\neven his imagination can not look to form a theory concerning basic\nformations--corner-stones.\n\n\"The geologist, in a like manner, grasps feebly the lessons left in the\nsuperficial fragments of earth strata, impressions that remain to bear\nimperfect record of a few of the disturbances that have affected the\nearth's crust, and he endeavors to formulate a story of the world's\nlife, but he is neither able to antedate the records shown by the meager\ntestimony at his command, scraps of a leaf out of God's great book of\nhistory, nor to anticipate coming events. The birth, as well as the\ndeath, of this planet is beyond his page.\n\n\"The astronomer directs his telescope to the heavens, records the\nposition of the planets, and hopes to discover the influences worlds\nexert upon one another. He explores space to obtain data to enable him\nto delineate a map of the visible solar universe, but the instruments he\nhas at command are so imperfect, and mind is so feeble that, like\nmockery seems his attempt to study behind the facts connected with the\nmotions and conditions of the nearest heavenly bodies, and he can not\noffer an explanation of the beginning or cessation of their movements.\nHe can neither account for their existence, nor foretell their end.\"\n\n\"Are you not mistaken?\" I interrupted; \"does not the astronomer foretell\neclipses, and calculate the orbits of the planets, and has he not\nverified predictions concerning their several motions?\"\n\n\"Yes; but this is simply a study of passing events. The astronomer is no\nmore capable of grasping an idea that reaches into an explanation of the\norigin of motion, than the chemist or physicist, from exact scientific\ndata, can account for the creation of matter. Give him any amount of\nmaterial at rest, and he can not conceive of any method by which motion\ncan disturb any part of it, unless such motion be mass motion\ncommunicated from without, or molecular motion, already existing within.\nHe accounts for the phases of present motion in heavenly bodies, not for\nthe primal cause of the actual movements or intrinsic properties they\npossess. He can neither originate a theory that will permit of motion\ncreating itself, and imparting itself to quiescent matter, nor imagine\nhow an atom of quiescent matter can be moved, unless motion from without\nbe communicated thereto. The astronomer, I assert, can neither from any\ndata at his command postulate nor prove the beginning nor the end of the\nreverberating motion that exists in his solar system, which is itself\nthe fragment of a system that is circulating and revolving in and about\nitself, and in which, since the birth of man, the universe he knows has\nnot passed the first milestone in the road that universe is traveling in\nspace immensity.\n\n\"The mathematician starts a line from an imaginary point that he informs\nus exists theoretically without occupying any space, which is a\ncontradiction of terms according to his human acceptation of knowledge\nderived from scientific experiment, if science is based on verified\nfacts. He assumes that straight lines exist, which is a necessity for\nhis calculation; but such a line he has never made. Even the beam of\nsunshine, radiating through a clear atmosphere or a cloud bank, widens\nand contracts again as it progresses through the various mediums of air\nand vapor currents, and if it is ever spreading and deflecting can it be\nstraight? He begins his study in the unknown, it ends with the\nunknowable.\n\n\"The biologist can conceive of no rational, scientific beginning to life\nof plant or animal, and men of science must admit the fact. Whenever we\nturn our attention to nature's laws and nature's substance, we find man\nsurrounded by the infinity that obscures the origin and covers the\nend. But perseverance, study of nature's forces, and comparison of the\npast with the present, will yet clarify human knowledge and make plain\nmuch of this seemingly mysterious, but never will man reach the\nbeginning or the end. The course of human education, to this day, has\nbeen mostly materialistic, although, together with the study of matter,\nthere has been more or less attention given to its moving spirit. Newton\nwas the dividing light in scientific thought; he stepped between the\nreasonings of the past and the provings of the present, and introduced\nproblems that gave birth to a new scientific tendency, a change from the\nstudy of matter from the material side to that of force and matter, but\nhis thought has since been carried out in a mode too realistic by far.\nThe study of material bodies has given way, it is true, in a few cases\nto the study of the spirit of matter, and evolution is beginning to\nteach men that matter is crude. As a result, thought will in its\nsequence yet show that modifications of energy expression are paramount.\nThis work is not lost, however, for the consideration of the nature of\nsensible material, is preliminary and necessary to progression (as the\nlife of the savage prepares the way for that of the cultivated student),\nand is a meager and primitive child's effort, compared with the richness\nof the study in unseen energy expressions that are linked with matter,\nof which men will yet learn.\"\n\n\"I comprehend some of this,\" I replied; \"but I am neither prepared to\nassent to nor dissent from your conclusions, and my mind is not clear as\nto whether your logic is good or bad. I am more ready to speak plainly\nabout my own peculiar situation than to become absorbed in abstruse\narguments in science, and I marvel more at the soft light that is here\nsurrounding us than at the metaphysical reasoning in which you indulge.\"\n\n\"The child ignorant of letters wonders at the resources of those who can\nspell and read, and, in like manner, many obscure natural phenomena are\nmarvelous to man only because of his ignorance. You do not comprehend\nthe fact that sunlight is simply a matter-bred expression, an outburst\nof interrupted energy, and that the modification this energy undergoes\nmakes it visible or sensible to man. What, think you, becomes of the\nflood of light energy that unceasingly flows from the sun? For ages,\nfor an eternity, it has bathed this earth and seemingly streamed into\nspace, and space it would seem must have long since have been filled\nwith it, if, as men believe, space contains energy of any description.\nMan may say the earth casts the amount intercepted by it back into\nspace, and yet does not your science teach that the great bulk of the\nearth is an absorber, and a poor radiator of light and heat? What think\nyou, I repeat, becomes of the torrent of light and heat and other forces\nthat radiate from the sun, the flood that strikes the earth? It\ndisappears, and, in the economy of nature, is not replaced by any known\nforce or any known motion of matter. Think you that earth substance\nreally presents an obstacle to the passage of the sun's energy? Is it\nnot probable that most of this light producing essence, as a subtle\nfluid, passes through the surface of the earth and into its interior, as\nlight does through space, and returns thence to the sun again, in a\ncondition not discernible by man?\" He grasped my arm and squeezed it as\nthough to emphasize the words to follow. \"You have used the term\nsunshine freely; tell me what is sunshine? Ah! you do not reply; well,\nwhat evidence have you to show that sunshine (heat and light) is not\nearth-bred, a condition that exists locally only, the result of contact\nbetween matter and some unknown force expression? What reason have you\nfor accepting that, to other forms unknown and yet transparent to this\nenergy, your sunshine may not be as intangible as the ether of space is\nto man? What reason have you to believe that a force torrent is not\ncirculating to and from the sun and earth, inappreciable to man,\nexcepting the mere trace of this force which, modified by contact action\nwith matter appears as heat, light, and other force expressions? How can\nI, if this is true, in consideration of your ignorance, enter into\ndetails explanatory of the action that takes place between matter and a\nportion of this force, whereby in the earth, first at the surface,\ndarkness is produced, and then deeper down an earth light that man can\nperceive by the sense of sight, as you now realize? I will only say that\nthis luminous appearance about us is produced by a natural law, whereby\nthe flood of energy, invisible to man, a something clothed now under the\nname of darkness, after streaming into the crust substance of the earth,\nis at this depth, revivified, and then is made apparent to mortal eye,\nto be modified again as it emerges from the opposite earth crust, but\nnot annihilated. For my vision, however, this central light is not a\nnecessity; my physical and mental development is such that the energy of\ndarkness is communicable; I can respond to its touches on my nerves, and\nhence I can guide you in this dark cavern. I am all eye.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" I exclaimed, \"that reminds me of a remark made by my former guide\nwho, referring to the instinct of animals, spoke of that as a natural\npower undeveloped in man. Is it true that by mental cultivation a new\nsense can be evolved whereby darkness may become as light?\"\n\n\"Yes; that which you call light is a form of sensible energy to which\nthe faculties of animals who live on the surface of the earth have\nbecome adapted, through their organs of sight. The sun's energy is\nmodified when it strikes the surface of the earth; part is reflected,\nbut most of it passes onward into the earth's substance, in an altered\nor disturbed condition. Animal organisms within the earth must possess a\npeculiar development to utilize it under its new form, but such a sense\nis really possessed in a degree by some creatures known to men. There is\nconsciousness behind consciousness; there are grades and depths of\nconsciousness. Earth worms, and some fishes and reptiles in underground\nstreams (lower organizations, men call them) do not use the organ of\nsight, but recognize objects, seek their food, and flee from their\nenemies.\"\n\n\"They have no eyes,\" I exclaimed, forgetting that I spoke to an eyeless\nbeing; \"how can they see?\"\n\n\"You should reflect that man can not offer a satisfactory explanation of\nthe fact that he can see with his eyes. In one respect, these so-called\nlower creatures are higher in the scale of life than man is, for they\nsee (appreciate) without eyes. The surfaces of their bodies really are\nsources of perception, and seats of consciousness. Man must yet learn to\nsee with his skin, taste with his fingers, and hear with the surface of\nhis body. The dissected nerve, or the pupil of man's eye, offers to the\nphysiologist no explanation of its intrinsic power. Is not man\nunfortunate in having to risk so much on so frail an organ? The\nphysiologist can not tell why or how the nerve of the tongue can\ndistinguish between bitter and sweet, or convey any impression of\ntaste, or why the nerve of the ear communicates sound, or the nerve of\nthe eye communicates the impression of sight. There is an impassable\nbarrier behind all forms of nerve impressions, that neither the\nmicroscope nor other methods of investigation can help the reasoning\nsenses of man to remove. The void that separates the pulp of the\nmaterial nerve from consciousness is broader than the solar universe,\nfor even from the most distant known star we can imagine the\nnever-ending flight of a ray of light, that has once started on its\ntravels into space. Can any man outline the bridge that connects the\nintellect with nerve or brain, mind, or with any form of matter? The\nfact that the surface of the bodies of some animals is capable of\nperforming the same functions for these animals that the eye of man\nperforms for him, is not more mysterious than is the function of that\neye itself. The term darkness is an expression used to denote the fact\nthat to the brain which governs the eye of man, what man calls the\nabsence of light, is unrecognizable. If men were more magnanimous and\nless egotistical, they would open their minds to the fact that some\nanimals really possess certain senses that are better developed than\nthey are in man. The teachers of men too often tell the little they know\nand neglect the great unseen. The cat tribe, some night birds, and many\nreptiles can see better in darkness than in daylight. Let man compare\nwith the nerve expanse of his own eye that of the highly developed eye\nof any such creature, and he will understand that the difference is one\nof brain or intellect, and not altogether one of optical vision surface.\nWhen men are able to explain how light can affect the nerves of their\nown eyes and produce such an effect on distant brain tissues as to bring\nto his senses objects that he is not touching, he may be able to explain\nhow the energy in darkness can affect the nerve of the eye in the owl\nand impress vision on the brain of that creature. Should not man's\ninferior sense of light lead him to question if, instead of deficient\nvisual power, there be not a deficiency of the brain capacity of man?\nInstead of accepting that the eye of man is incapable of receiving the\nimpression of night energy, and making no endeavor to improve himself in\nthe direction of his imperfection, man should reflect whether or not his\nbrain may, by proper cultivation or artificial stimulus, be yet\ndeveloped so as to receive yet deeper nerve impressions, thereby\nchanging darkness into daylight. Until man can explain the modus\noperandi of the senses he now possesses, he can not consistently\nquestion the existence of a different sight power in other beings, and\nunquestioned existing conditions should lead him to hope for a yet\nhigher development in himself.\"\n\n\"This dissertation is interesting, very,\" I said. \"Although inclined\ntoward agnosticism, my ideas of a possible future in consciousness that\nlies before mankind are broadened. I therefore accept your reasoning,\nperhaps because I can not refute it, neither do I wish to do so. And now\nI ask again, can not you explain to me how darkness, as deep as that of\nmidnight, has been revivified so as to bring this great cavern to my\nview?\"\n\n\"That may be made plain at a future time,\" he answered; \"let us proceed\nwith our journey.\"\n\nWe passed through a dry, well ventilated apartment. Stalactite\nformations still existed, indicative of former periods of water\ndrippings, but as we journeyed onward I saw no evidence of present\npercolations, and the developing and erosive agencies that had worked in\nages past must long ago have been suspended. The floor was of solid\nstone, entirely free from loose earth and fallen rocky fragments. It was\nsmooth upon the surface, but generally disposed in gentle undulations.\nThe peculiar, soft, radiant light to which my guide referred as\n\"vitalized darkness\" or \"revivified sunshine,\" pervaded all the space\nabout me, but I could not by its agency distinguish the sides of the\nvast cavern. The brightness was of a species that while it brought into\ndistinctness objects that were near at hand, lost its unfolding power or\nvigor a short distance beyond. I would compare the effect to that of a\nbright light shining through a dense fog, were it not that the medium\nabout us was transparent--not milky. The light shrunk into nothingness.\nIt passed from existence behind and about me as if it were annihilated,\nwithout wasting away in the opalescent appearance once familiar as that\nof a spreading fog. Moreover, it seemed to detail such objects as were\nwithin the compass of a certain area close about me, but to lose in\nintensity beyond. The buttons on my coat appeared as distinct as they\never did when I stood in the sunlight, and fully one-half larger than I\nformerly knew them to be. The corrugations on the palms of my hands\nstood out in bold serpentine relief that I observed clearly when I held\nmy hands near my eye, my fingers appeared clumsy, and all parts of my\nperson were magnified in proportion. The region at the limits of my\nrange of perception reminded me of nothingness, but not of darkness. A\ncircle of obliteration defined the border of the luminous belt which\nadvanced as we proceeded, and closed in behind us. This line, or rather\nzone of demarkation, that separated the seen from the unseen, appeared\nto be about two hundred feet away, but it might have been more or less,\nas I had no method of measuring distances.\n\n[Illustration: \"I WAS IN A FOREST OF COLOSSAL FUNGI.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n THE FUNGUS FOREST.--ENCHANTMENT.\n\n\nAlong the chamber through which we now passed I saw by the mellow light\ngreat pillars, capped with umbrella-like covers, some of them reminding\nme of the common toadstool of upper earth, on a magnificent scale.\nInstead, however, of the gray or somber shades to which I had been\naccustomed, these objects were of various hues and combined the\nbrilliancy of the primary prismatic colors, with the purity of clean\nsnow. Now they would stand solitary, like gigantic sentinels; again they\nwould be arranged in rows, the alignment as true as if established by\nthe hair of a transit, forming columnar avenues, and in other situations\nthey were wedged together so as to produce masses, acres in extent, in\nwhich the stems became hexagonal by compression. The columnar stems,\nlarger than my body, were often spiral; again they were marked with\ndiamond-shaped figures, or other regular geometrical forms in relief,\nbeautifully exact, drawn as by a master's hand in rich and delicately\nblended colors, on pillars of pure alabaster. Not a few of the stems\nshowed deep crimson, blue, or green, together with other rich colors\ncombined; over which, as delicate as the rarest of lace, would be\nthrown, in white, an enamel-like intricate tracery, far surpassing in\nbeauty of execution the most exquisite needle-work I had ever seen.\nThere could be no doubt that I was in a forest of colossal fungi, the\nspecies of which are more numerous than those of upper earth cryptomatic\nvegetation. The expanded heads of these great thallogens were as varied\nas the stems I have described, and more so. Far above our path they\nspread like beautiful umbrellas, decorated as if by masters from whom\nthe great painters of upper earth might humbly learn the art of mixing\ncolors. Their under surfaces were of many different designs, and were of\nas many shapes as it is conceivable could be made of combinations of the\ncircle and hyperbola. Stately and picturesque, silent and immovable as\nthe sphinx, they studded the great cavern singly or in groups, reminding\nme of a grown child's wild imagination of fairy land. I stopped beside a\ngroup that was of unusual conspicuity and gazed in admiration on the\nhuge and yet graceful, beautiful spectacle. I placed my hand on the stem\nof one plant, and found it soft and impressible; but instead of being\nmoist, cold, and clammy as the repulsive toadstool of upper earth, I\ndiscovered, to my surprise, that it was pleasantly warm, and soft as\nvelvet.\n\n\"Smell your hand,\" said my guide.\n\nI did so, and breathed in an aroma like that of fresh strawberries. My\nguide observed (I had learned to judge of his emotions by his facial\nexpressions) my surprised countenance with indifference.\n\n\"Try the next one,\" he said.\n\nThis being of a different species, when rubbed by my hand exhaled the\nodor of the pineapple.\n\n\"Extraordinary,\" I mused.\n\n\"Not at all. Should productions of surface earth have a monopoly of\nnature's methods, all the flavors, all the perfumes? You may with equal\nconsistency express astonishment at the odors of the fruits of upper\nearth if you do so at the fragrance of these vegetables, for they are\nalso created of odorless elements.\"\n\n\"But toadstools are foul structures of low organization.[3] They are\nneither animals nor true vegetables, but occupy a station below that of\nplants proper,\" I said.\n\n\n [3] The fungus Polyporus graveolens was neglected by the guide.\n This fungus exhales a delicate odor, and is used in Kentucky to\n perfume a room. Being quite large, it is employed to hold a door\n open, thus being useful as well as fragrant.--J. U. L.\n\n\"You are acquainted with this order of vegetation under the most\nunfavorable conditions; out of their native elements these plants\ndegenerate and become then abnormal, often evolving into the poisonous\nearth fungi known to your woods and fields. Here they grow to\nperfection. This is their chosen habitat. They absorb from a pure\natmosphere the combined foods of plants and animals, and during their\nexistence meet no scorching sunrise. They flourish in a region of\nperfect tranquillity, and without a tremor, without experiencing the\nchange of a fraction of a degree in temperature, exist for ages. Many of\nthese specimens are probably thousands of years old, and are still\ngrowing; why should they ever die? They have never been disturbed by a\nbreath of moving air, and, balanced exactly on their succulent,\npedestal-like stems, surrounded by an atmosphere of dead nitrogen,\nvapor, and other gases, with their roots imbedded in carbonates and\nminerals, they have food at command, nutrition inexhaustible.\"\n\n\"Still I do not see why they grow to such mammoth proportions.\"\n\n\"Plants adapt themselves to surrounding conditions,\" he remarked. \"The\noak tree in its proper latitude is tall and stately; trace it toward the\nArctic circle, and it becomes knotted, gnarled, rheumatic, and dwindles\nto a shrub. The castor plant in the tropics is twenty or thirty feet in\nheight, in the temperate zone it is an herbaceous plant, farther north\nit has no existence. Indian corn in Kentucky is luxuriant, tall, and\ngraceful, and each stalk is supplied with roots to the second and third\njoint, while in the northland it scarcely reaches to the shoulder of a\nman, and, in order to escape the early northern frost, arrives at\nmaturity before the more southern variety begins to tassel. The common\njimson weed (datura stramonium) planted in early spring, in rich soil,\ngrows luxuriantly, covers a broad expanse and bears an abundance of\nfruit; planted in midsummer it blossoms when but a few inches in height,\nand between two terminal leaves hastens to produce a single capsule on\nthe apex of the short stem, in order to ripen its seed before the frost\nappears. These and other familiar examples might be cited concerning the\ndifference some species of vegetation of your former lands undergo under\nclimatic conditions less marked than between those that govern the\ngrowth of fungi here and on surface earth. Such specimens of fungi as\ngrow in your former home have escaped from these underground regions,\nand are as much out of place as are the tropical plants transplanted to\nthe edge of eternal snow. Indeed, more so, for on the earth the ordinary\nfungus, as a rule, germinates after sunset, and often dies when the sun\nrises, while here they may grow in peace eternally. These meandering\ncaverns comprise thousands of miles of surface covered by these growths\nwhich shall yet fulfill a grand purpose in the economy of nature, for\nthey are destined to feed tramping multitudes when the day appears in\nwhich the nations of men will desert the surface of the earth and pass\nas a single people through these caverns on their way to the immaculate\nexistence to be found in the inner sphere.\"\n\n\"I can not disprove your statement,\" I again repeated; \"neither do I\naccept it. However, it still seems to me unnatural to find such\ndelicious flavors and delicate odors connected with objects associated\nin memory with things insipid, or so disagreeable as toadstools and the\nrank forest fungi which I abhorred on earth.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\n THE FOOD OF MAN.\n\n\n\"This leads me to remark,\" answered the eyeless seer, \"that you speak\nwithout due consideration of previous experience. You are, or should be,\naware of other and as marked differences in food products of upper\nearth, induced by climate, soil and cultivation. The potato which, next\nto wheat, rice, or corn, you know supplies nations of men with starchy\nfood, originated as a wild weed in South America and Mexico, where it\nyet exists as a small, watery, marble-like tuber, and its nearest\nkindred, botanically, is still poisonous. The luscious apple reached its\npresent excellence by slow stages from knotty, wild, astringent fruit,\nto which it again returns when escaped from cultivation. The cucumber is\na near cousin of the griping, medicinal cathartic bitter-apple, or\ncolocynth, and occasionally partakes yet of the properties that result\nfrom that unfortunate alliance, as too often exemplified to persons who\ndo not peel it deep enough to remove the bitter, cathartic principle\nthat exists near the surface. Oranges, in their wild condition, are\nbitter, and are used principally as medicinal agents. Asparagus was once\na weed, native to the salty edges of the sea, and as this weed has\nbecome a food, so it is possible for other wild weeds yet to do.\nBuckwheat is a weed proper, and not a cereal, and birds have learned\nthat the seeds of many other weeds are even preferable to wheat. The\nwild parsnip is a poison, and the parsnip of cultivation relapses\nquickly into its natural condition if allowed to escape and roam again.\nThe root of the tapioca plant contains a volatile poison, and is deadly;\nbut when that same root is properly prepared, it becomes the wholesome\nfood, tapioca. The nut of the African anacardium (cachew nut) contains a\nnourishing kernel that is eaten as food by the natives, and yet a drop\nof the juice of the oily shell placed on the skin will blister and\nproduce terrible inflammations; only those expert in the removal of the\nkernel dare partake of the food. The berry of the berberis vulgaris is\na pleasant acid fruit; the bough that bears it is intensely bitter. Such\nexamples might be multiplied indefinitely, but I have cited enough to\nillustrate the fact that neither the difference in size and structure of\nthe species in the mushroom forest through which we are passing, nor the\nconditions of these bodies, as compared with those you formerly knew,\nneed excite your astonishment. Cultivate a potato in your former home so\nthat the growing tuber is exposed to sunshine, and it becomes green and\nacrid, and strongly virulent. Cultivate the spores of the intra-earth\nfungi about us, on the face of the earth, and although now all parts of\nthe plants are edible, the species will degenerate, and may even become\npoisonous. They lose their flavor under such unfavorable conditions, and\nalthough some species still retain vitality enough to resist poisonous\ndegeneration, they dwindle in size, and adapt themselves to new and\nunnatural conditions. They have all degenerated. Here they live on\nwater, pure nitrogen and its modifications, grasping with their roots\nthe carbon of the disintegrated limestone, affiliating these substances,\nand evolving from these bodies rich and delicate flavors, far superior\nto the flavor of earth surface foods. On the surface of the earth, after\nthey become abnormal, they live only on dead and devitalized organic\nmatter, having lost the power of assimilating elementary matter. They\nthen partake of the nature of animals, breathe oxygen and exhale\ncarbonic acid, as animals do, being the reverse of other plant\nexistences. Here they breathe oxygen, nitrogen, and the vapor of water;\nbut exhale some of the carbon in combination with hydrogen, thus\nevolving these delicate ethereal essences instead of the poisonous gas,\ncarbonic acid. Their substance is here made up of all the elements\nnecessary for the support of animal life; nitrogen to make muscle,\ncarbon and hydrogen for fat, lime for bone. This fungoid forest could\nfeed a multitude. It is probable that in the time to come when man\ndeserts the bleak earth surface, as he will some day be forced to do, as\nhas been the case in frozen planets that are not now inhabited on the\nouter crust; nations will march through these spaces on their way from\nthe dreary outside earth to the delights of the salubrious inner sphere.\nHere then, when that day of necessity appears, as it surely will come\nunder inflexible climatic changes that will control the destiny of\nouter earth life, these constantly increasing stores adapted to nourish\nhumanity, will be found accumulated and ready for food. You have already\neaten of them, for the variety of food with which I supplied you has\nbeen selected from different portions of these nourishing products\nwhich, flavored and salted, ready for use as food, stand intermediate\nbetween animal and vegetable, supplying the place of both.\"\n\nMy instructor placed both hands on my shoulders, and in silence I stood\ngazing intently into his face. Then, in a smooth, captivating,\nentrancing manner, he continued:\n\n\"Can you not see that food is not matter? The material part of bread is\ncarbon, water, gas, and earth; the material part of fat is charcoal and\ngas; the material part of flesh is water and gas; the material part of\nfruits is mostly water with a little charcoal and gas.[4] The material\nconstituents of all foods are plentiful, they abound everywhere, and yet\namid the unlimited, unorganized materials that go to form foods man\nwould starve.\n\n [4] By the term gas, it is evident that hydrogen and nitrogen were\n designated, and yet, since the instructor insists that other gases\n form part of the atmosphere, so he may consistently imply that\n unknown gases are parts of food.--J. U. L.\n\n\"Give a healthy man a diet of charcoal, water, lime salts, and air; say\nto him, 'Bread contains no other substance, here is bread, the material\nfood of man, live on this food,' and yet the man, if he eat of these,\nwill die with his stomach distended. So with all other foods; give man\nthe unorganized materialistic constituents of food in unlimited amounts,\nand starvation results. No! matter is not food, but a carrier of food.\"\n\n\"What is food?\"\n\n\"Sunshine. The grain of wheat is a food by virtue of the sunshine fixed\nwithin it. The flesh of animals, the food of living creatures, are\nsimply carriers of sunshine energy. Break out the sunshine and you\ndestroy the food, although the material remains. The growing plant locks\nthe sunshine in its cells, and the living animal takes it out again.\nHence it is that after the sunshine of any food is liberated during the\nmetamorphosis of the tissues of an animal although the material part of\nthe food remains, it is no longer a food, but becomes a poison, and\nthen, if it is not promptly eliminated from the animal, it will destroy\nthe life of the animal. This material becomes then injurious, but it\nis still material.\n\n\"The farmer plants a seed in the soil, the sunshine sprouts it,\nnourishes the growing plant, and during the season locks itself to and\nwithin its tissues, binding the otherwise dead materials of that tissue\ntogether into an organized structure. Animals eat these structures,\nbreak them from higher to lower compounds, and in doing so live on the\nstored up sunshine and then excrete the worthless material side of the\nfood. The farmer spreads these excluded substances over the earth again\nto once more take up the sunshine in the coming plant organization, but\nnot until it does once more lock in its cells the energy of sunshine can\nit be a food for that animal.\"\n\n\"Is manure a food?\" he abruptly asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Is not manure matter?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"May it not become a food again, as the part of another plant, when\nanother season passes?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"In what else than energy (sunshine) does it differ from food?\"\n\n\"Water is a necessity,\" I said.\n\n\"And locked in each molecule of water there is a mine of sunshine.\nLiberate suddenly the sun energy from the gases of the ocean held in\nsubjection thereby, and the earth would disappear in an explosion that\nwould reverberate throughout the universe. The water that you truly\nclaim to be necessary to the life of man, is itself water by the grace\nof this same sun, for without its heat water would be ice, dry as dust.\n'Tis the sun that gives life and motion to creatures animate and\nsubstances inanimate; he who doubts distrusts his Creator. Food and\ndrink are only carriers of bits of assimilable sunshine. When the fire\nworshipers kneeled to their god, the sun, they worshiped the great food\nreservoir of man. When they drew the quivering entrails from the body of\na sacrificed victim they gave back to their God a spark of sunshine--it\nwas due sooner or later. They builded well in thus recognizing the\nsource of all life, and yet they acted badly, for their God asked no\npremature sacrifice, the inevitable must soon occur, and as all\norganic life comes from that Sun-God, so back to that Creator the\nsun-spark must fly.\"\n\n\"But they are heathen; there is a God beyond their narrow conception of\nGod.\"\n\n\"As there is also a God in the Beyond, past your idea of God. Perhaps to\nbeings of higher mentalities, we may be heathen; but even if this is so,\nduty demands that we revere the God within our intellectual sphere. Let\nus not digress further; the subject now is food, not the Supreme\nCreator, and I say to you the food of man and the organic life of man is\nsunshine.\"\n\nHe ceased, and I reflected upon his words. All he had said seemed so\nconsistent that I could not deny its plausibility, and yet it still\nappeared altogether unlikely as viewed in the light of my previous earth\nknowledge. I did not quite comprehend all the semi-scientific\nexpressions, but was at least certain that I could neither disprove nor\nverify his propositions. My thoughts wandered aimlessly, and I found\nmyself questioning whether man could be prevailed upon to live\ncontentedly in situations such as I was now passing through. In company\nwith my learned and philosophical but fantastically created guardian and\nmonitor, I moved on.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\n THE CRY FROM A DISTANCE.--I REBEL AGAINST CONTINUING THE JOURNEY.\n\n\nAs we paced along, meditating, I became more sensibly impressed with the\nfact that our progress was down a rapid declination. The saline\nincrustations, fungi and stalagmites, rapidly changed in appearance, an\nendless variety of stony figures and vegetable cryptogams recurring\nsuccessively before my eyes. They bore the shape of trees, shrubs, or\nanimals, fixed and silent as statues: at least in my distorted condition\nof mind I could make out resemblances to many such familiar objects; the\nfloor of the cavern became increasingly steeper, as was shown by the\nstalactites, which, hanging here and there from the invisible ceiling,\nmade a decided angle with the floor, corresponding with a similar angle\nof the stalagmites below. Like an accompanying and encircling halo the\never present earth-light enveloped us, opening in front as we advanced,\nand vanishing in the rear. The sound of our footsteps gave back a\npeculiar, indescribable hollow echo, and our voices sounded ghost-like\nand unearthly, as if their origin was outside of our bodies, and at a\ndistance. The peculiar resonance reminded me of noises reverberating in\nan empty cask or cistern. I was oppressed by an indescribable feeling of\nmystery and awe that grew deep and intense, until at last I could no\nlonger bear the mental strain.\n\n\"Hold, hold,\" I shouted, or tried to shout, and stopped suddenly, for\nalthough I had cried aloud, no sound escaped my lips. Then from a\ndistance--could I believe my senses?--from a distance as an echo, the\ncry came back in the tones of my own voice, \"Hold, hold.\"\n\n\"Speak lower,\" said my guide, \"speak very low, for now an effort such as\nyou have made projects your voice far outside your body; the greater the\nexertion the farther away it appears.\"\n\nI grasped him by the arm and said slowly, determinedly, and in a\nsuppressed tone: \"I have come far enough into the secret caverns of the\nearth, without knowing our destination; acquaint me now with the object\nof this mysterious journey, I demand, and at once relieve this sense of\nuncertainty; otherwise I shall go no farther.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"AN ENDLESS VARIETY OF STONY FIGURES.\"]\n\n\"You are to proceed to the Sphere of Rest with me,\" he replied, \"and in\nsafety. Beyond that an Unknown Country lies, into which I have never\nventured.\"\n\n\"You speak in enigmas; what is this Sphere of Rest? Where is it?\"\n\n\"Your eyes have never seen anything similar; human philosophy has no\nconception of it, and I can not describe it,\" he said. \"It is located in\nthe body of the earth, and we will meet it about one thousand miles\nbeyond the North Pole.\"\n\n\"But I am in Kentucky,\" I replied; \"do you think that I propose to walk\nto the North Pole, man--if man you be; that unreached goal is thousands\nof miles away.\"\n\n\"True,\" he answered, \"as you measure distance on the surface of the\nearth, and you could not walk it in years of time; but you are now\ntwenty-five miles below the surface, and you must be aware that instead\nof becoming more weary as we proceed, you are now and have for some time\nbeen gaining strength. I would also call to your attention that you\nneither hunger nor thirst.\"\n\n\"Proceed,\" I said, \"'tis useless to rebel; I am wholly in your power,\"\nand we resumed our journey, and rapidly went forward amid silences that\nwere to me painful beyond description. We abruptly entered a cavern of\ncrystal, every portion of which was of sparkling brilliancy, and as\nwhite as snow. The stalactites, stalagmites and fungi disappeared. I\npicked up a fragment of the bright material, tasted it, and found that\nit resembled pure salt. Monstrous, cubical crystals, a foot or more in\ndiameter, stood out in bold relief, accumulations of them, as\nconglomerated masses, banked up here and there, making parts of great\ncolumnar cliffs, while in other formations the crystals were small,\nresembling in the aggregate masses of white sandstone.\n\n\"Is not this salt?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes; we are now in the dried bed of an underground lake.\"\n\n\"Dried bed?\" I exclaimed; \"a body of water sealed in the earth can not\nevaporate.\"\n\n\"It has not evaporated; at some remote period the water has been\nabstracted from the salt, and probably has escaped upon the surface of\nthe earth as a fresh water spring.\"\n\n\"You contradict all laws of hydrostatics, as I understand that subject,\"\nI replied, \"when you speak of abstracting water from a dissolved\nsubstance that is part of a liquid, and thus leaving the solids.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless this is a constant act of nature,\" said he; \"how else can\nyou rationally account for the great salt beds and other deposits of\nsaline materials that exist hermetically sealed beneath the earth's\nsurface?\"\n\n[Illustration: \"MONSTROUS CUBICAL CRYSTALS.\"]\n\n\"I will confess that I have not given the subject much thought; I simply\naccept the usual explanation to the effect that salty seas have lost\ntheir water by evaporation, and afterward the salt formations, by some\nconvulsions of nature, have been covered with earth, perhaps\nsinking by earthquake convulsions bodily into the earth.\"\n\n\"These explanations are examples of some of the erroneous views of\nscientific writers,\" he replied; \"they are true only to a limited\nextent. The great beds of salt, deep in the earth, are usually\naccumulations left there by water that is drawn from brine lakes, from\nwhich the liberated water often escaped as pure spring water at the\nsurface of the earth. It does not escape by evaporation, at least not\nuntil it reaches the earth's surface.\"\n\n\n\n\nINTERLUDE--THE STORY INTERRUPTED.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\n MY UNBIDDEN GUEST PROVES HIS STATEMENT AND REFUTES MY PHILOSOPHY.\n\n\nLet the reader who has followed this strange story which I am directed\nto title \"The End of Earth,\" and who, in imagination, has traversed the\ncavernous passages of the underworld and listened to the conversation of\nthose two personages who journeyed towards the secrets of the Beyond,\nreturn now to upper earth, and once more enter my secluded lodgings, the\nhome of Llewellen Drury, him who listened to the aged guest and who\nclaims your present attention. Remember that I relate a story within a\nstory. That importunate guest of mine, of the glittering knife and the\nsilvery hair, like another Ancient Mariner, had constrained me to listen\nto his narrative, as he read it aloud to me from the manuscript. I\npatiently heard chapter after chapter, generally with pleasure, often\nwith surprise, sometimes with incredulity, or downright dissent. Much of\nthe narrative, I must say,--yes, most of it, appeared possible, if not\nprobable, as taken in its connected sequence. The scientific sections\nwere not uninteresting; the marvels of the fungus groves, the properties\nof the inner light, I was not disinclined to accept as true to natural\nlaws; but when The-Man-Who-Did-It came to tell of the intra-earth salt\ndeposits, and to explain the cause of the disappearance of lakes that\nformerly existed underground, and their simultaneous replacement by beds\nof salt, my credulity was overstrained.\n\n\"Permit me to interrupt your narrative,\" I remarked, and then in\nresponse to my request the venerable guest laid down his paper.\n\n\"Well?\" he said, interrogatively.\n\n\"I do not believe that last statement concerning the salt lake, and, to\nspeak plainly, I would not have accepted it as you did, even had I been\nin your situation.\"\n\n\"To what do you allude?\" he asked.\n\n\"The physical abstraction of water from the salt of a solution of salt;\nI do not believe it possible unless by evaporation of the water.\"\n\n\"You seem to accept as conclusive the statements of men who have never\ninvestigated beneath the surface in these directions, and you question\nthe evidence of a man who has seen the phenomenon. I presume you accept\nthe prevailing notions about salt beds, as you do the assertion that\nliquids seek a common level, which your scientific authorities also\nteach as a law of nature?\"\n\n\"Yes; I do believe that liquids seek a common level, and I am willing to\ncredit your other improbable statements if you can demonstrate the\nprinciple of liquid equilibrium to be untrue.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said he, \"to-morrow evening I will show you that fluids seek\ndifferent levels, and also explain to you how liquids may leave the\nsolids they hold in solution without evaporating from them.\"\n\nHe arose and abruptly departed. It was near morning, and yet I sat in my\nroom alone pondering the story of my unique guest until I slept to dream\nof caverns and seances until daylight, when I was awakened by their\nvividness. The fire was out, the room was cold, and, shivering in\nnervous exhaustion, I crept into bed to sleep and dream again of\nhorrible things I can not describe, but which made me shudder in\naffright at their recollection. Late in the day I awoke.\n\nOn the following evening my persevering teacher appeared punctually, and\ndisplayed a few glass tubes and some blotting or bibulous paper.\n\n\"I will first show you that liquids may change their levels in\nopposition to the accepted laws of men, not contrary to nature's laws;\nhowever, let me lead to the experiments by a statement of facts, that,\nif you question, you can investigate at any time. If two vessels of\nwater be connected by a channel from the bottom of each, the water\nsurfaces will come to a common level.\"\n\nHe selected a curved glass tube, and poured water into it. The water\nassumed the position shown in Figure 11.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 11.--A A, water in tube seeks a level.]\n\n\"You have not shown me anything new,\" I said; \"my text-books taught me\nthis.\"\n\n\"True, I have but exhibited that which is the foundation of your\nphilosophy regarding the surface of liquids. Let me proceed:\n\n\"If we pour a solution of common salt into such a U tube, as I do now,\nyou perceive that it also rises to the same level in both ends.\"\n\n\"Of course it does.\"\n\n\"Do not interrupt me. Into one arm of the tube containing the brine I\nnow carefully pour pure water. You observe that the surfaces do not seek\nthe same level.\" (Figure 12.)\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 12.--A, surface of water. B, surface of brine.]\n\n\"Certainly not,\" I said; \"the weight of the liquid in each arm is the\nsame, however; the columns balance each other.\"\n\n\"Exactly; and on this assumption you base your assertion that connected\nliquids of the same gravity must always seek a common level, but you see\nfrom this test that if two liquids of different gravities be connected\nfrom beneath, the surface of the lighter one will assume a higher level\nthan the surface of the heavier.\"\n\n\"Agreed; however tortuous the channel that connects them, such must be\nthe case.\"\n\n\"Is it not supposable,\" said he, \"that there might be two pockets in the\nearth, one containing salt water, the other fresh water, which, if\njoined together, might be represented by such a figure as this, wherein\nthe water surface would be raised above that of the brine?\" And he drew\nupon the paper the accompanying diagram. (Figure 13.)\n\n\"Yes,\" I admitted; \"providing, of course, there was an equal pressure of\nair on the surface of each.\"\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 13.--B, surface of brine. W, surface of water. S,\nsand strata connecting them.]\n\n\"Now I will draw a figure in which one pocket is above the other, and\nask you to imagine that in the lower pocket we have pure water, in the\nupper pocket brine (Figure 14); can you bring any theory of your law to\nbear upon these liquids so that by connecting them together the water\nwill rise and run into the brine?\"\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 14.--B, brine. W, water. S, sand stratum. (The\ndifference in altitude is somewhat exaggerated to make the phenomenon\nclear. A syphon may result under such circumstances.--L.)]\n\n\"No,\" I replied; \"connect them, and then the brine will flow into the\nwater.\"\n\n\"Upon the contrary,\" he said; \"connect them, as innumerable cavities in\nthe earth are joined, and the water will flow into the brine.\"\n\n\"The assertion is opposed to applied philosophy and common sense,\" I\nsaid.\n\n\"Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise, you know to be a maxim\nwith mortals,\" he replied; \"but I must pardon you; your dogmatic\neducation narrows your judgment. I now will prove you in error.\"\n\nHe took from his pocket two slender glass tubes, about an eighth of an\ninch in bore and four inches in length, each closed at one end, and\nstood them in a perforated cork that he placed upon the table.\n\nInto one tube he poured water, and then dissolving some salt in a cup,\npoured brine into the other, filling both nearly to the top (Figure 15).\nNext he produced a short curved glass tube, to each end of which was\nattached a strip of flexible rubber tubing. Then, from a piece of\nblotting paper such as is used to blot ink, he cut a narrow strip and\npassed it through the arrangement, forming the apparatus represented by\nFigure 16.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 15. A A, glass tubes. F, brine surface. E, water\nsurface.]\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 16. B, curved glass tube. C C, rubber tubes. D D D,\nbibulous paper.]\n\nThen he inserted the two tubes (Figure 15) into the rubber, the\nextremities of the paper being submerged in the liquids, producing a\ncombination that rested upright in the cork as shown by Figure 17.\n\nThe surfaces of both liquids were at once lowered by reason of the\nsuction of the bibulous paper, the water decreasing most rapidly, and\nsoon the creeping liquids met by absorption in the paper, the point of\ncontact, as the liquids met, being plainly discernible. Now the old man\ngently slid the tubes upon each other, raising one a little, so as to\nbring the surfaces of the two liquids exactly on a plane; he then marked\nthe glass at the surface of each with a pen.\n\n\"Observe the result,\" he remarked as he replaced the tubes in the cork\nwith their liquid surfaces on a line.\n\nTogether we sat and watched, and soon it became apparent that the\nsurface of the water had decreased in height as compared with that of\nthe brine. By fixing my gaze on the ink mark on the glass I also\nobserved that the brine in the opposing tube was rising.\n\n\"I will call to-morrow evening,\" he said, \"and we shall then discover\nwhich is true, man's theory or nature's practice.\"\n\nWithin a short time enough of the water in the tube had been transferred\nto the brine to raise its surface considerably above its former level,\nthe surface of the water being lowered to a greater degree. (Figure 18.)\nI was discomfited at the result, and upon his appearance next evening\npeevishly said to the experimenter:\n\n\"I do not know that this is fair.\"\n\n\"Have I not demonstrated that, by properly connecting the liquids, the\nlighter flows into the heavier, and raises itself above the former\nsurface?\"\n\n\"Yes; but there is no porous paper in the earth.\"\n\n\"True; I used this medium because it was convenient. There are, however,\nvast subterranean beds of porous materials, stone, sand, clay, various\nother earths, many of which will answer the same purpose. By perfectly\nnatural laws, on a large scale, such molecular transfer of liquids is\nconstantly taking place within the earth, and in these phenomena the law\nof gravitation seems ignored, and the rule which man believes from\nnarrow experience, governs the flow of liquids, is reversed. The arched\nporous medium always transfers the lighter liquid into the heavier one\nuntil its surface is raised considerably above that of the light one. In\nthe same way you can demonstrate that alcohol passes into water,\nsulphuric ether into alcohol, and other miscible light liquids into\nthose heavier.\"\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 17. A A, glass tubes. B, curved glass tube. C C,\nrubber tubes. D, bibulous paper. E, water surface. F, brine surface.]\n\n\"I have seen you exemplify the statement on a small scale, with water\nand brine, and can not question but that it is true on a large one,\" I\nreplied.\n\n\"So you admit that the assertion governing the surfaces of liquids is\ntrue only when the liquids are connected from beneath. In other words,\nyour thought is one-sided, as science thought often is.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 18. E, water surface. F, brine surface.]\n\n\"Now as to the beds of salt deep within the earth. You are also mistaken\nconcerning their origin. The water of the ocean that runs through an\nopen channel from the one side may flow into an underground lake, that\nby means of the contact action (suction) of the overlying and\nsurrounding strata is being continually emptied of its water, but not\nits salt. Thus by absorption of water the brine of the lake becomes in\ntime saturated, starting crystallization regularly over the floor and\nsides of the basin. Eventually the entire cavity is filled with salt,\nand a solid mass of rock salt remains. If, however, before the lake\nbecomes solid, the brine supply is shut off by some natural cause as by\nsalt crystals closing the passage thereto, the underground lake is at\nlast drained of its water, the salt crystallizing over the bottom, and\nupon the cliffs, leaving great crevices through the saline deposits, as\nchances to have been the case with the salt formations through which I\npassed with my guide, and have recently described to you.\"\n\n\"Even now I have my doubts as to the correctness of your explanations,\nespecially concerning the liquid surfaces.\"\n\n\"They are facts, however; liquids capable of being mixed, if connected\nby porous arches (bibulous paper is convenient for illustrating by\nexperiment) reverse the rule men have accepted to explain the phenomena\nof liquid equilibrium, for I repeat, the lighter one rushes into that\nwhich is heavier, and the surface of the heavier liquid rises. You can\ntry the experiment with alcohol and water, taking precautions to prevent\nevaporation, or you can vary the experiment with solutions of various\nsalts of different densities; the greater the difference in gravity\nbetween the two liquids, the more rapid will be the flow of the lighter\none into the heavier, and after equilibrium, the greater will be the\ncontrast in the final height of the resultant liquid surfaces.\"\n\n\"Men will yet explain this effect by natural laws,\" I said.\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered; \"when they learn the facts; and they will then be\nable to solve certain phenomena connected with diffusion processes that\nthey can not now understand. Did I not tell you that after the fact had\nbeen made plain it was easy to see how Columbus stood the egg on its\nend? What I have demonstrated by experiment is perhaps no new principle\nin hydrostatics. But I have applied it in a natural manner to the\nexplanation of obscure natural phenomena, that men now seek unreasonable\nmethods to explain.\"\n\n\"You may proceed with your narrative. I accept that when certain liquids\nare connected, as you have shown, by means of porous substances, one\nwill pass into the other, and the surface of the lighter liquid in this\ncase will assume a position below that of the heavier.\"\n\n\"You must also accept,\" said he, \"that when solutions of salt are\nsubjected to earth attraction, under proper conditions, the solids may\nby capillary attraction be left behind, and pure water finally pass\nthrough the porous medium. Were it not for this law, the only natural\nsurface spring water on earth would be brine, for the superficial crust\nof the earth is filled with saline solutions. All the spring-fed\nrivers and lakes would also be salty and fetid with sulphur compounds,\nfor at great depths brine and foul water are always present. Even in\ncountries where all the water below the immediate surface of the earth\nis briny, the running springs, if of capillary origin, are pure and\nfresh. You may imagine how different this would be were it not for the\nlaw I have cited, for the whole earth's crust is permeated by brine and\nsaline waters. Did your 'philosophy' never lead you to think of this?\"\n\nContinuing, my guest argued as follows: \"Do not lakes exist on the\nearth's surface into which rivers and streams flow, but which have no\nvisible outlet? Are not such lakes saline, even though the source of\nsupply is comparatively fresh? Has it never occurred to you to question\nwhether capillarity assisted by surface evaporation (not evaporation\nonly as men assert) is not separating the water of these lakes from the\nsaline substances carried into them by the streams, thus producing brine\nlakes? Will not this action after a great length of time result in\ncrystalline deposits over portions of the bottoms of such lakes, and\nultimately produce a salt bed?\"\n\n\"It is possible,\" I replied.\n\n\"Not only possible, but probable. Not only probable, but true. Across\nthe intervening brine strata above the salt crystals the surface rivers\nmay flow, indeed, owing to differences in specific gravity the surface\nof the lake may be comparatively fresh, while in the quiet depths below,\nbeds of salt crystals are forming, and between these extremes may rest\nstrata after strata of saline solutions, decreasing in gravity towards\nthe top.\"\n\nThen he took his manuscript, and continued to read in a clear, musical\nvoice, while I sat a more contented listener than I had been previously.\nI was not only confuted, but convinced. And I recalled the saying of\nSocrates, that no better fortune can happen a man than to be confuted in\nan error.\n\n\n\n\nMY UNBIDDEN GUEST CONTINUES READING HIS MANUSCRIPT.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\n MY WEIGHT DISAPPEARING.\n\n\nWe halted suddenly, for we came unexpectedly to the edge of a precipice,\ntwenty feet at least in depth.\n\n\"Let us jump down,\" said my guide.\n\n\"That would be dangerous,\" I answered; \"can not we descend at some point\nwhere it is not so deep?\"\n\n\"No; the chasm stretches for miles across our path, and at this point we\nwill meet with the least difficulty; besides, there is no danger. The\nspecific gravity of our bodies is now so little that we could jump twice\nthat distance with impunity.\"\n\n\"I can not comprehend you; we are in the flesh, our bodies are possessed\nof weight, the concussion will be violent.\"\n\n\"You reason again from the condition of your former life, and, as usual,\nare mistaken; there will be little shock, for, as I have said, our\nbodies are comparatively light now. Have you forgotten that your motion\nis continuously accelerated, and that without perceptible exertion you\nmove rapidly? This is partly because of the loss of weight. Your weight\nwould now be only about fifty pounds if tested by a spring balance.\"\n\nI stood incredulous.\n\n\"You trifle with me; I weigh over one hundred and fifty pounds; how have\nI lost weight? It is true that I have noticed the ease with which we\nhave recently progressed on our journey, especially the latter part of\nit, but I attribute this, in part, to the fact that our course is down\nan incline, and also to the vitalizing power of this cavern air.\"\n\n\"This explains part of the matter,\" he said; \"it answered at the time,\nand I stated a fact; but were it not that you are really consuming a\ncomparatively small amount of energy, you would long before this have\nbeen completely exhausted. You have been gaining strength for some\nhours; have really been growing younger. Your wrinkled face has become\nmore smooth, and your voice is again natural. You were prematurely aged\nby your brothers on the surface of the earth, in order that when you\npass the line of gravity, you might be vigorous and enjoying manhood\nagain. Had this aging process not been accomplished you would now have\nbecome as a child in many respects.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"I BOUNDED UPWARD FULLY SIX FEET.\"]\n\nHe halted before me. \"Jump up,\" he said. I promptly obeyed the\nunexpected command, and sprung upward with sufficient force to carry me,\nas I supposed, six inches from the earth; however I bounded upward fully\nsix feet. My look of surprise as I gently alighted, for there was no\nconcussion on my return, seemed lost on my guide, and he quietly said:\n\n\"If you can leap six feet upward without excessive exertion, or return\nshock, can not you jump twenty feet down? Look!\"\n\n[Illustration: \"I FLUTTERED TO THE EARTH AS A LEAF WOULD FALL.\"]\n\nAnd he leaped lightly over the precipice and stood unharmed on the stony\nfloor below.\n\nEven then I hesitated, observing which, he cried:\n\n\"Hang by your hands from the edge then, and drop.\"\n\nI did so, and the fourteen feet of fall seemed to affect me as though I\nhad become as light as cork. I fluttered to the earth as a leaf would\nfall, and leaned against the precipice in surprised meditation.\n\n\"Others have been through your experience,\" he remarked, \"and I\ntherefore can overlook your incredulity; but experiences such as you now\nmeet, remove distrust. Doing is believing.\" He smiled benignantly.\n\n[Illustration: \"WE LEAPED OVER GREAT INEQUALITIES.\"]\n\nI pondered, revolving in my mind the fact that persons had in mental\nabstraction, passed through unusual experiences in ignorance of\nconditions about them, until their attention had been called to the seen\nand yet unnoticed surroundings, and they had then beheld the facts\nplainly. The puzzle picture (see p. 129) stares the eye and impresses\nthe retina, but is devoid of character until the hidden form is\ndeveloped in the mind, and then that form is always prominent to the\neye. My remarkably light step, now that my attention had been directed\nthereto, was constantly in my mind, and I found myself suddenly\npossessed of the strength of a man, but with the weight of an infant. I\nraised my feet without an effort; they seemed destitute of weight; I\nleaped about, tumbled, and rolled over and over on the smooth stone\nfloor without injury. It appeared that I had become the airy similitude\nof my former self, my material substance having wasted away without a\ncorresponding impairment of strength.I pinched my flesh to be assured\nthat all was not a dream, and then endeavored to convince myself that I\nwas the victim of delirium; but in vain. Too sternly my self-existence\nconfronted me as a reality, a cruel reality. A species of intoxication\npossessed me once more, and I now hoped for the end, whatever it might\nbe. We resumed our journey, and rushed on with increasing rapidity,\ngalloping hand in hand, down, down, ever downward into the illuminated\ncrevice of the earth. The spectral light by which we were aureoled\nincreased in intensity, as by arithmetical progression, and I could now\ndistinguish objects at a considerable distance before us. My spirits\nrose as if I were under the influence of a potent stimulant; a\nliveliness that was the opposite of my recent despondency had gained\ncontrol, and I was again possessed of a delicious mental sensation, to\nwhich I can only refer as a most rapturous exhilaration. My guide\ngrasped my hand firmly, and his touch, instead of revolting me as\nformerly it had done, gave pleasure. We together leaped over great\ninequalities in the floor, performing these aerial feats almost as\neasily as a bird flies. Indeed, I felt that I possessed the power of\nflight, for we bounded fearlessly down great declivities and over\nabysses that were often perpendicular, and many times our height. A very\nslight muscular exertion was sufficient to carry us rods of distance,\nand almost tiptoeing we skimmed with ever-increasing speed down the\nsteeps of that unknown declivity. At length my guide held back; we\ngradually lessened our velocity, and, after a time, rested beside a\nhorizontal substance that lay before us, apparently a sheet of glass,\nrigid, immovable, immeasurably great, that stretched as a level surface\nbefore us, vividly distinct in the brightness of an earth light, that\nnow proved to be superior to sunshine. Far as the eye could reach, the\nglassy barrier to our further progress spread as a crystal mirror in\nfront, and vanishing in the distance, shut off the beyond.\n\n[Illustration: \"FAR AS THE EYE COULD REACH THE GLASSY BARRIER\nSPREAD AS A CRYSTAL MIRROR.\"]\n\n\n\n\nINTERLUDE.--THE STORY AGAIN INTERRUPTED.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\n MY UNBIDDEN GUEST DEPARTS.\n\n\nOnce more I must presume to interrupt this narrative, and call back the\nreader's thoughts from those mysterious caverns through which we have\nbeen tracing the rapid footsteps of the man who was abducted, and his\nuncouth pilot of the lower realms. Let us now see and hear what took\nplace in my room, in Cincinnati, just after my visitor, known to us as\nThe-Man-Who-Did-It, had finished reading to me, Lewellyn Drury, the\ncustodian of this manuscript, the curious chapter relating how the\nunderground explorers lost weight as they descended in the hollows of\nthe earth. My French clock struck twelve of its clear silvery notes\nbefore the gray-bearded reader finished his stint for the occasion, and\nfolded his manuscript preparatory to placing it within his bosom.\n\n\"It is past midnight,\" he said, \"and it is time for me to depart; but I\nwill come to you again within a year.\n\n\"Meanwhile, during my absence, search the records, question authorities,\nand note such objections as rise therefrom concerning the statements I\nhave made. Establish or disprove historically, or scientifically, any\nportion of the life history that I have given, and when I return I will\nhear what you have to say, and meet your argument. If there is a doubt\nconcerning the authenticity of any part of the history, investigate; but\nmake no mention to others of the details of our meetings.\"\n\nI sat some time in thought, then said: \"I decline to concern myself in\nverifying the historical part of your narrative. The localities you\nmention may be true to name, and it is possible that you have related a\npersonal history; but I can not perceive that I am interested in either\nproving or disproving it. I will say, however, that it does not seem\nprobable that at any time a man can disappear from a community, as you\nclaim to have done, and have been the means of creating a commotion in\nhis neighborhood that affected political parties, or even led to an\nunusual local excitement, outside his immediate circle of acquaintances,\nfor a man is not of sufficient importance unless he is very conspicuous.\nBy your own admission, you were simply a studious mechanic, a credulous\nbeliever in alchemistic vagaries, and as I revolve the matter over, I am\nafraid that you are now trying to impose on my credulity. The story of a\nforcible abduction, in the manner you related, seems to me incredible,\nand not worthy of investigation, even had I the inclination to concern\nmyself in your personal affairs. The statements, however, that you make\nregarding the nature of the crust of the earth, gravitation, light,\ninstinct, and human senses are highly interesting, and even plausible as\nyou artfully present the subjects, I candidly admit, and I shall take\nsome pains to make inquiries concerning the recorded researches of\nexperts who have investigated in that direction.\"\n\n\"Collect your evidence,\" said he, \"and I shall listen to your views when\nI return.\"\n\nHe opened the door, glided away, and I was alone again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\n I QUESTION SCIENTIFIC MEN.--ARISTOTLE'S ETHER.\n\n\nDays and weeks passed. When the opportunity presented, I consulted Dr.\nW. B. Chapman, the druggist and student of science, regarding the nature\nof light and earth, who in turn referred me to Prof. Daniel Vaughn. This\nlearned man, in reply to my question concerning gravitation, declared\nthat there was much that men wished to understand in regard to this\nmighty force, that might yet be explained, but which may never become\nknown to mortal man.\n\n\"The correlation of forces,\" said he, \"was prominently introduced and\nconsidered by a painstaking scientific writer named Joule, in several\npapers that appeared between 1843 and 1850, and he was followed by\nothers, who engaged themselves in experimenting and theorizing, and I\nmay add that Joule was indeed preceded in such thought by Mayer. This\ndepartment of scientific study just now appears of unusual interest to\nscientists, and your questions embrace problems connected with some\nphases of its phenomena. We believe that light, heat, and electricity\nare mutually convertible, in fact, the evidences recently opened up to\nus show that such must be the case. These agencies or manifestations are\nnow known to be so related that whenever one disappears others spring\ninto existence. Study the beautiful experiments and remarkable\ninvestigations of Sir William Thomson in these directions.\"\n\n\"And what of gravitation?\" I asked, observing that Prof. Vaughn\nneglected to include gravitation among his numerous enumerated forces,\nand recollecting that the force gravitation was more closely connected\nwith my visitor's story than perhaps were any of the others, excepting\nthe mysterious mid-earth illumination.\n\n\"Of that force we are in greater ignorance than of the others,\" he\nreplied. \"It affects bodies terrestrial and celestial, drawing a\nmaterial substance, or pressing to the earth; also holds, we believe,\nthe earth and all other bodies in position in the heavens, thus\nmaintaining the equilibrium of the planets. Seemingly gravitation is not\nderived from, or sustained by, an external force, or supply reservoir,\nbut is an intrinsic entity, a characteristic of matter that decreases in\nintensity at the rate of the square of the increasing distance, as\nbodies recede from each other, or from the surface of the earth.\nHowever, gravitation neither escapes by radiation from bodies nor needs\nto be replenished, so far as we know, from without. It may be compared\nto an elastic band, but there is no intermediate tangible substance to\ninfluence bodies that are affected by it, and it remains in undying\ntension, unlike all elastic material substances known, neither losing\nnor acquiring energy as time passes. Unlike cohesion, or chemical\nattraction, it exerts its influence upon bodies that are out of contact,\nand have no material connection, and this necessitates a purely fanciful\nexplanation concerning the medium that conducts such influences,\nbringing into existence the illogical, hypothetical, fifth ether, made\nconspicuous by Aristotle.\"\n\n\"What of this ether?\" I queried.\n\n\"It is a necessity in science, but intangible, undemonstrated, unknown,\nand wholly theoretical. It is accepted as an existing fluid by\nscientists, because human theory can not conceive of a substance capable\nof, or explain how a substance can be capable of affecting a separate\nbody unless there is an intermediate medium to convey force impressions.\nHence to material substances Aristotle added (or at least made\nconspicuous) a speculative ether that, he assumed, pervades all space,\nand all material bodies as well, in order to account for the passage of\nheat and light to and from the sun, stars, and planets.\"\n\n\"Explain further,\" I requested.\n\n\"To conceive of such an entity we must imagine a material that is more\nevanescent than any known gas, even in its most diffused condition. It\nmust combine the solidity of the most perfect conductor of heat\n(exceeding any known body in this respect to an infinite degree), with\nthe transparency of an absolute vacuum. It must neither create friction\nby contact with any substance, nor possess attraction for matter; must\nneither possess weight (and yet carry the force that produces weight),\nnor respond to the influence of any chemical agent, or exhibit itself to\nany optical instrument. It must be invisible, and yet carry the force\nthat produces the sensation of sight. It must be of such a nature that\nit can not, according to our philosophy, affect the corpuscles of\nearthly substances while permeating them without contact or friction,\nand yet, as a scientific incongruity, it must act so readily on physical\nbodies as to convey to the material eye the sensation of sight, and from\nthe sun to creatures on distant planets it must carry the heat force,\nthus giving rise to the sensation of warmth. Through this medium, yet\nwithout sensible contact with it, worlds must move, and planetary\nsystems revolve, cutting and piercing it in every direction, without\nloss of momentum. And yet, as I have said, this ether must be in such\nclose contact as to convey to them the essence that warms the universe,\nlights the universe, and must supply the attractive bonds that hold the\nstellar worlds in position. A nothing in itself, so far as man's senses\nindicate, the ether of space must be denser than iridium, more mobile\nthan any known liquid, and stronger than the finest steel.\"\n\n\"I can not conceive of such an entity,\" I replied.\n\n\"No; neither can any man, for the theory is irrational, and can not be\nsupported by comparison with laws known to man, but the conception is\nnevertheless a primary necessity in scientific study. Can man, by any\nrational theory, combine a vacuum and a substance, and create a result\nthat is neither material nor vacuity, neither something nor nothing, and\nyet an intensified all; being more attenuated than the most perfect of\nknown vacuums, and a conductor better than the densest metal? This we do\nwhen we attempt to describe the scientists' all-pervading ether of\nspace, and to account for its influence on matter. This hypothetical\nether is, for want of a better theory of causes, as supreme in\nphilosophy to-day as the alkahest of the talented old alchemist Van\nHelmont was in former times, a universal spirit that exists in\nconception, and yet does not exist in perception, and of which modern\nscience knows as little as its speculative promulgator, Aristotle, did.\nWe who pride ourselves on our exact science, smile at some of\nAristotle's statements in other directions, for science has disproved\nthem, and yet necessity forces us to accept this illogical ether\nspeculation, which is, perhaps, the most unreasonable of all theories.\nDid not this Greek philosopher also gravely assert that the lion has but\none vertebra in his neck; that the breath of man enters the heart; that\nthe back of the head is empty, and that man has but eight ribs?\"\n\n\"Aristotle must have been a careless observer,\" I said.\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered; \"it would seem so, and science, to-day, bases its\nteachings concerning the passage of all forces from planet to planet,\nand sun to sun, on dicta such as I have cited, and no more reasonable in\napplied experiment.\"\n\n\"And I have been referred to you as a conscientious scientific teacher,\"\nI said; \"why do you speak so facetiously?\"\n\n\"I am well enough versed in what we call science, to have no fear of\ninjuring the cause by telling the truth, and you asked a direct\nquestion. If your questions carry you farther in the direction of force\nstudies, accept at once, that, of the intrinsic constitution of force\nitself, nothing is known. Heat, light, magnetism, electricity, galvanism\n(until recently known as imponderable bodies) are now considered as\nmodifications of force; but, in my opinion, the time will come when they\nwill be known as disturbances.\"\n\n\"Disturbances of what?\"\n\n\"I do not know precisely; but of something that lies behind them all,\nperhaps creates them all, but yet is in essence unknown to men.\"\n\n\"Give me a clearer idea of your meaning.\"\n\n\"It seems impossible,\" he replied; \"I can not find words in which to\nexpress myself; I do not believe that forces, as we know them\n(imponderable bodies), are as modern physics defines them. I am tempted\nto say that, in my opinion, forces are disturbance expressions of a\nsomething with which we are not acquainted, and yet in which we are\nsubmerged and permeated. Aristotle's ether perhaps. It seems to me,\nthat, behind all material substances, including forces, there is an\nunknown spirit, which, by certain influences, may be ruffled into the\nexhibition of an expression, which exhibition of temper we call a force.\nFrom this spirit these force expressions (wavelets or disturbances)\narise, and yet they may become again quiescent, and again rest in its\nabsorbing unity. The water from the outlet of a calm lake flows over a\ngentle decline in ripples, or quiet undulations, over the rapids in\nmusical laughings, over a precipice in thunder tones,--always water,\neach a different phase, however, to become quiet in another lake (as\nripples in this universe may awaken to our perception, to repose again),\nand still be water.\"\n\nHe hesitated.\n\n\"Go on,\" I said.\n\n\"So I sometimes have dared to dream that gravitation may be the\nreservoir that conserves the energy for all mundane forces, and that\nwhat we call modifications of force are intermediate conditions,\nripples, rapids, or cascades, in gravitation.\"\n\n\"Continue,\" I said, eagerly, as he hesitated.\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\n THE SOLILOQUY OF PROF. DANIEL VAUGHN.--\"GRAVITATION IS THE\n BEGINNING AND GRAVITATION IS THE END: ALL EARTHLY BODIES KNEEL TO\n GRAVITATION.\"\n\n\n\"Please continue, I am intensely interested; I wish that I could give\nyou my reasons for the desire; I can not do so, but I beg you to\ncontinue.\"\n\n\"I should add,\" continued Vaughn, ignoring my remarks, \"that we have\nestablished rules to measure the force of gravitation, and have\nestimated the decrease of attraction as we leave the surfaces of the\nplanets. We have made comparative estimates of the weight of the earth\nand planets, and have reason to believe that the force expression of\ngravitation attains a maximum at about one-sixth the distance toward the\ncenter of the earth, then decreases, until at the very center of our\nplanet, matter has no weight. This, together with the rule I repeated a\nfew moments ago, is about all we know, or think we know, of gravitation.\nGravitation is the beginning and gravitation is the end; all earthly\nbodies kneel to gravitation. I can not imagine a Beyond, and yet\ngravitation,\" mused the rapt philosopher, \"may also be an expression\nof--\" he hesitated again, forgetting me completely, and leaned his shaggy\nhead upon his hands. I realized that his mind was lost in conjecture,\nand that he was absorbed in the mysteries of the scientific immensity.\nWould he speak again? I could not think of disturbing his reverie, and\nminutes passed in silence. Then he slowly, softly, reverently murmured:\n\"Gravitation, Gravitation, thou art seemingly the one permanent, ever\npresent earth-bound expression of Omnipotence. Heat and light come and\ngo, as vapors of water condense into rain and dissolve into vapor to\nreturn again to the atmosphere. Electricity and magnetism appear and\ndisappear; like summer storms they move in diversified channels, or even\nturn and fly from contact with some bodies, seemingly forbidden to\nappear, but thou, Gravitation, art omnipresent and omnipotent. Thou\ncreatest motion, and yet maintainest the equilibrium of all things\nmundane and celestial. An attempt to imagine a body destitute of thy\npotency, would be to bankrupt and deaden the material universe. O!\nGravitation, art thou a voice out of the Beyond, and are other forces\nbut echoes--tremulous reverberations that start into life to vibrate for\na spell and die in the space caverns of the universe while thou\ncontinuest supreme?\"\n\n[Illustration: \"SOLILOQUY OF PROF. DANIEL VAUGHN.\n\n'GRAVITATION IS THE BEGINNING, AND GRAVITATION IS THE END; ALL EARTHLY\nBODIES KNEEL TO GRAVITATION.'\"]\n\nHis bowed head and rounded shoulders stooped yet lower; he unconsciously\nbrushed his shaggy locks with his hand, and seemed to confer with a\nfamiliar Being whom others could not see.\n\n\"A voice from without,\" he repeated; \"from beyond our realm! Shall the\nsubtle ears of future scientists catch yet lighter echoes? Will the\nbrighter thoughts of more gifted men, under such furtherings as the\nfuture may bring, perchance commune with beings who people immensity,\ndistance disappearing before thy ever-reaching spirit? For with thee,\nwho holdest the universe together, space is not space, and there is no\nword expressing time. Art thou a voice that carriest the history of the\npast from the past unto and into the present, and for which there is no\nfuture, all conditions of time being as one to thee, thy self covering\nall and connecting all together? Art thou, Gravitation, a voice? If so,\nthere must be a something farther out in those fathomless caverns,\nbeyond mind imaginings, from which thou comest, for how could\nnothingness have formulated itself into a voice? The suns and universe\nof suns about us, may be only vacant points in the depths of an\nall-pervading entity in which even thyself dost exist as a momentary\necho, linked to substances ponderous, destined to fade away in the\ninter-stellar expanse outside, where disturbances disappear, and matter\nand gravitation together die; where all is pure, quiescent, peaceful and\ndark. Gravitation, Gravitation, imperishable Gravitation; thou seemingly\nart the ever-pervading, unalterable, but yet moving spirit of a cosmos\nof solemn mysteries. Art thou now, in unperceived force expressions,\nspeaking to dumb humanity of other universes; of suns and vortices of\nsuns; bringing tidings from the solar planets, or even infinitely\ndistant star mists, the silent unresolved nebulae, and spreading before\nearth-bound mortal minds, each instant, fresh tidings from without,\nthat, in ignorance, we can not read? May not beings, perhaps like\nourselves but higher in the scale of intelligence, those who people some\nof the planets about us, even now beckon and try to converse with us\nthrough thy subtle, ever-present self? And may not their efforts at\ncommunication fail because of our ignorance of a language they can read?\nAre not light and heat, electricity and magnetism plodding, vacillating\nagents compared with thy steady existence, and is it even further\npossible?--\"\n\nHis voice had gradually lowered, and now it became inaudible; he was\noblivious to my presence, and had gone forth from his own self; he was\nlost in matters celestial, and abstractedly continued unintelligibly to\nmutter to himself as, brushing his hair from his forehead, he picked up\nhis well-worn felt hat, and placed it awkwardly on his shaggy head, and\nthen shuffled away without bidding me farewell. The bent form,\nprematurely shattered by privation; uncouth, unkempt, typical of\nsuffering and neglect, impressed me with the fact that in him man's life\nessence, the immortal mind, had forgotten the material part of man. The\nphysical half of man, even of his own being, in Daniel Vaughn's\nestimation, was an encumbrance unworthy of serious attention, his spirit\ncommuned with the pure in nature, and to him science was a study of the\ngreat Beyond.[5]\n\n [5] Mr. Drury can not claim to have recorded verbatim Prof.\n Vaughn's remarks, but has endeavored to give the substance. His\n language was faultless, his word selections beautiful, his\n soliloquy impressive beyond description. Perhaps Drury even\n misstated an idea, or more than one, evolved then by the great\n mind of that patient man. Prof. Daniel Vaughn was fitted for a\n scientific throne, a position of the highest honor; but, neglected\n by man, proud as a king, he bore uncomplainingly privations most\n bitter, and suffered alone until finally he died from starvation\n and neglect in the city of his adoption. Some persons are ready to\n cry, \"Shame! Shame!\" at wealthy Cincinnati; others assert that men\n could not give to Daniel Vaughn, and since the first edition of\n ETIDORHPA appeared, the undersigned has learned of one vain\n attempt to serve the interests of this peculiar man. He would not\n beg, and knowing his capacities, if he could not procure a\n position in which to earn a living, he preferred to starve. The\n only bitterness of his nature, it is said, went out against those\n who, in his opinion, kept from him such employment as returns a\n livelihood to scientific men; for he well knew his intellect\n earned for him such a right in Cincinnati. Will the spirit of that\n great man, talented Daniel Vaughn, bear malice against the people\n of the city in which none who knew him will deny that he perished\n from cold and privation? Commemorated is he not by a bust of\n bronze that distorts the facts in that the garments are not seedy\n and unkempt, the figure stooping, the cheek hollow and the eye\n pitifully expressive of an empty stomach? That bust modestly rests\n in the public library he loved so well, in which he suffered so\n uncomplainingly, and starved so patiently. J. U. L.\n\nI embraced the first opportunity that presented itself to read the\nworks that Prof. Vaughn suggested, and sought him more than once to\nquestion further. However, he would not commit himself in regard to the\npossible existence of other forces than those with which we are\nacquainted, and when I interrogated him as to possibilities in the study\nof obscure force expressions, he declined to express an opinion\nconcerning the subject. Indeed, I fancied that he believed it probable,\nor at least not impossible, that a closer acquaintance with conditions\nof matter and energy might be the heirloom of future scientific\nstudents. At last I gave up the subject, convinced that all the\ninformation I was able to obtain from other persons whom I questioned,\nand whose answers were prompt and positive, was evolved largely from\nignorance and self-conceit, and such information was insufficient to\nsatisfy my understanding, or to command my attention. After hearing\nVaughn, all other voices sounded empty.\n\nI therefore applied myself to my daily tasks, and awaited the promised\nreturn of the interesting, though inscrutable being whose subterranean\nsojourneying was possibly fraught with so much potential value to\nscience and to man.\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE UNBIDDEN GUEST RETURNS TO READ HIS MANUSCRIPT. CONTINUING HIS\nNARRATIVE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\n THE MOTHER OF A VOLCANO.--\"YOU CAN NOT DISPROVE, AND YOU DARE NOT\n ADMIT.\"\n\n\nA year from the evening of the departure of the old man, found me in my\nroom, expecting his presence; and I was not surprised when he opened the\ndoor, and seated himself in his accustomed chair.\n\n\"Are you ready to challenge my statements?\" he said, taking up the\nsubject as though our conversation had not been interrupted.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Do you accept my history?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"You can not disprove, and you dare not admit. Is not that your\npredicament?\" he asked. \"You have failed in every endeavor to discredit\nthe truth, and your would-be scientists, much as they would like to do\nso, can not serve you. Now we will continue the narrative, and I shall\nawait your next attempt to cast a shadow over the facts.\"\n\nThen with his usual pleasant smile, he read from his manuscript a\ncontinuation of the intra-earth journey as follows:\n\n\"Be seated,\" said my eyeless guide, \"and I will explain some facts that\nmay prove of interest in connection with the nature of the superficial\ncrust of the earth. This crystal liquid spreading before us is a placid\nsheet of water, and is the feeder of the volcano, Mount Epomeo.\"\n\n\"Can that be a surface of water?\" I interrogated. \"I find it hard to\nrealize that water can be so immovable. I supposed the substance before\nus to be a rigid material, like glass, perhaps.\"\n\n\"There is no wind to ruffle this aqueous surface,--why should it not be\nquiescent? This is the only perfectly smooth sheet of water that you\nhave ever seen. It is in absolute rest, and thus appears a rigid level\nplane.\"\n\n\"Grant that your explanation is correct,\" I said, \"yet I can not\nunderstand how a quiet lake of water can give rise to a convulsion such\nas the eruption of a volcano.\"\n\n\"Not only is this possible,\" he responded, \"but water usually causes the\nexhibition of phenomena known as volcanic action. The Island of Ischia,\nin which the volcanic crater Epomeo is situated, is connected by a\ntortuous crevice with the peaceful pool by which we now stand, and at\nperiods, separated by great intervals of time, the lake is partly\nemptied by a simple natural process, and a part of its water is expelled\nabove the earth's surface in the form of super-heated steam, which\nescapes through that distant crater.\"\n\n\"But I see no evidence of heat or even motion of any kind.\"\n\n\"Not here,\" he replied; \"in this place there is none. The energy is\ndeveloped thousands of miles away, but since the phenomena of volcanic\naction are to be partially explained to you at a future day, I will\nleave that matter for the present. We shall cross this lake.\"\n\nI observed as we walked along its edge that the shore of the lake was\nprecipitous in places, again formed a gradually descending beach, and\nthe dead silence of the space about us, in connection with the\ndeath-like stillness of that rigid mass of water and its surroundings,\nbecame increasingly impressive and awe-inspiring. Never before had I\nseen such a perfectly quiet glass-like surface. Not a vibration or\nundulation appeared in any direction. The solidity of steel was\nexemplified in its steady, apparently inflexible contour, and yet the\npure element was so transparent that the bottom of the pool was as\nclearly defined as the top of the cavern above me. The lights and shades\nof the familiar lakes of Western New York were wanting here, and it\nsuddenly came to my mind that there were surface reflections, but no\nshadows, and musing on this extraordinary fact, I stood motionless on a\njutting cliff absorbed in meditation, abstractedly gazing down into that\ntransparent depth. Without sun or moon, without apparent source of\nlight, and yet perfectly illuminated, the lofty caverns seemed cut by\nthat aqueous plane into two sections, one above and one below a\ntransparent, rigid surface line. The dividing line, or horizontal plane,\nappeared as much a surface of air as a surface of water, and the\nmaterial above that plane seemed no more nor less a gas, or liquid, than\nthat beneath it. If two limpid, transparent liquids, immiscible, but of\ndifferent gravities, be poured into the same vessel, the line of\ndemarkation will be as a brilliant mirror, such as I now beheld parting\nand yet uniting the surfaces of air and water.\n\nLost in contemplation, I unconsciously asked the mental question:\n\n\"Where are the shadows?\"\n\nMy guide replied:\n\n\"You have been accustomed to lakes on the surface of the earth; water\nthat is illuminated from above; now you see by a light that is developed\nfrom within and below, as well as from above. There is no outside point\nof illumination, for the light of this cavern, as you know, is neither\ntransmitted through an overlying atmosphere nor radiated from a luminous\ncenter. It is an inherent quality, and as objects above us and within\nthe lake are illuminated alike from all sides, there can be no shadows.\"\n\nMusingly, I said:\n\n\"That which has occurred before in this journey to the unknown country\nof which I have been advised, seemed mysterious; but each succeeding\nstep discovers to me another novelty that is more mysterious, with\nunlooked-for phenomena that are more obscure.\"\n\n\"This phenomenon is not more of a mystery than is the fact that light\nradiates from the sun. Man can not explain that, and I shall not now\nattempt to explain this. Both conditions are attributes of force, but\nwith this distinction--the crude light and heat of the sun, such as men\nexperience on the surface of the earth, is here refined and softened,\nand the characteristic glare and harshness of the light that is known to\nthose who live on the earth's surface is absent here. The solar ray,\nafter penetrating the earth's crust, is tempered and refined by agencies\nwhich man will yet investigate understandingly, but which he can not now\ncomprehend.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WE CAME TO A METAL BOAT.\"]\n\n\"Am I destined to deal with these problems?\"\n\n\"Only in part.\"\n\n\"Are still greater wonders before us?\"\n\n\"If your courage is sufficient to carry you onward, you have yet to\nenter the portal of the expanse we approach.\"\n\n\"Lead on, my friend,\" I cried; \"lead on to these undescribed scenes, the\noccult wonderland that--\"\n\nHe interrupted me almost rudely, and in a serious manner said:\n\n\"Have you not learned that wonder is an exemplification of ignorance?\nThe child wonders at a goblin story, the savage at a trinket, the man of\nscience at an unexplained manifestation of a previously unperceived\nnatural law; each wonders in ignorance, because of ignorance. Accept now\nthat all you have seen from the day of your birth on the surface of the\nearth, to the present, and all that you will meet here are wonderful\nonly because the finite mind of man is confused with fragments of\nevidence, that, from whatever direction we meet them, spring from an\nunreachable infinity. We will continue our journey.\"\n\nProceeding farther along the edge of the lake we came to a metallic\nboat. This my guide picked up as easily as though it were of paper, for\nbe it remembered that gravitation had slackened its hold here. Placing\nit upon the water, he stepped into it, and as directed I seated myself\nnear the stern, my face to the bow, my back to the shore. The guide,\ndirectly in front of me, gently and very slowly moved a small lever that\nrested on a projection before him, and I gazed intently upon him as we\nsat together in silence. At last I became impatient, and asked him if we\nwould not soon begin our journey.\n\n\"We have been on our way since we have been seated,\" he answered.\n\nI gazed behind with incredulity: the shore had disappeared, and the\ndiverging wake of the ripples showed that we were rapidly skimming the\nwater.\n\n\"This is marvelous,\" I said; \"incomprehensible, for without sail or oar,\nwind or steam, we are fleeing over a lake that has no current.\"\n\n\"True, but not marvelous. Motion of matter is a result of disturbance of\nenergy connected therewith. Is it not scientifically demonstrated, at\nleast in theory, that if the motion of the spirit that causes the\nmagnetic needle to assume its familiar position were really arrested in\nthe substance of the needle, either the metal would fuse and vaporize or\n(if the forces did not appear in some other form such as heat,\nelectricity, magnetism, or other force) the needle would be hurled\nonward with great speed?\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\n\n MOTION FROM INHERENT ENERGY.--\"LEAD ME DEEPER INTO THIS EXPANDING\n STUDY.\"\n\n\n\"I partly comprehend that such would be the case,\" I said.\n\n\"If a series of knife blades on pivot ends be set in a frame, and turned\nedgewise to a rapid current of water, the swiftly moving stream flows\nthrough this sieve of metallic edges about as easily as if there were no\nobstructions. Slowly turn the blades so as to present their oblique\nsides to the current, and an immediate pressure is apparent upon the\nframe that holds them; turn the blades so as to shut up the space, and\nthey will be torn from their sockets, or the entire frame will be\nshattered into pieces.\"\n\n\"I understand; go on.\"\n\n\"The ethereal current that generates the magnetic force passes through\nmaterial bodies with inconceivable rapidity, and the molecules of a few\nsubstances only, present to it the least obstruction. Material molecules\nare edgewise in it, and meet no retardation in the subtle flood. This\nforce is a disturbance of space energy that is rushing into the earth in\none form, and out of it in another. But your mind is not yet in a\ncondition to grasp the subject, for at best there is no method of\nexplaining to men that which their experimental education has failed to\nprepare them to receive, and for which first absolutely new ideas, and\nnext words with new meaning, must be formed. Now we, (by we I mean those\nwith whom I am connected) have learned to disturb the molecules in\nmatter so as to turn them partly, or entirely, across the path of this\nmagnetic current, and thus interrupt the motion of this ever-present\nenergy. We can retard its velocity without, however, producing either\nmagnetism (as is the case in a bar of steel), electricity, or heat, but\nmotion instead, and thus a portion of this retarded energy springs into\nits new existence as motion of my boat. It is force changed into\nmovement of matter, for the molecules of the boat, as a mass, must move\nonward as the force disappears as a current. Perhaps you can accept now\nthat instead of light, heat, electricity, magnetism, and gravitation\nbeing really modifications of force they are disturbances.\"\n\n\"Disturbances of what?\"\n\n\"Disturbances of motion.\"\n\n\"Motion of what?\"\n\n\"Motion of itself, pure and simple.\"\n\n\"I can not comprehend, I can not conceive of motion pure and simple.\"\n\n\"I will explain at a future time so that you can comprehend more\nclearly. Other lessons must come first, but never will you see the end.\nTruth is infinite.\"\n\nContinuing, he said:\n\n\"Let me ask if there is anything marvelous in this statement. On the\nearth's surface men arrest the fitful wind, and by so doing divert the\nenergy of its motion into movement of machinery; they induce it to turn\nmills and propel vessels. This motion of air is a disturbance, mass\nmotion transmitted to the air by heat, heat in turn being a disturbance\nor interruption of pure motion. When men learn to interrupt this\nunperceived stream of energy so as to change directly into material\nmotion the spirit that saturates the universe, and that produces force\nexpressions, as it is constantly rushing from earth into space, and from\nspace back again, they will have at command wherever they may be an\nendless source of power, light, and heat; mass motion, light and heat\nbeing convertible. Motion lies behind heat, light, and electricity, and\nproduces them, and so long as the earth revolves on its axis, and\ncircles in its orbit, man needs no light and heat from such indirect\nsources as combustion. Men will, however, yet obtain motion of molecules\n(heat), and material mass motion as well, from earth motion, without the\nother dangerous intermediate force expressions now deemed necessary in\ntheir production.\"\n\n\"Do you wish me to understand that on all parts of the earth's surface\nthere is a continual expenditure of energy, an ever-ready current, that\nis really distinct from the light and heat of the sun, and also that the\nimponderable bodies that we call heat, light, electricity, and\nmagnetism are not substances at all?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied.\n\n\"And that this imperceptible something--fluid I will say, for want of a\nbetter term--now invisible and unknown to man, is as a medium in which\nthe earth, submerged, floats as a speck of dust in a flood of space?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" he replied.\n\n\"Am I to infer from your remarks that, in the course of time, man will\nbe able to economize this force, and adapt it to his wants?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Go on with your exposition, I again beg of you; lead me deeper into\nthis expanding study.\"\n\n\"There is but little more that you can comprehend now, as I have said,\"\nhe answered. \"All materials known to man are of coarse texture, and the\nminds of men are not yet in a condition to comprehend finer exhibitions\nof force, or of motion modifications. Pure energy, in all its\nmodifications, is absolutely unknown to man. What men call heat,\ngravitation, light, electricity, and magnetism are the grosser\nattributes attending alterations in an unknown, attenuated, highly\ndeveloped force producer. They are results, not causes. The real force,\nan unreached energy, is now flooding all space, pervading all materials.\nEverywhere there exists an infinite sea of motion absolute. Since this\nprimeval entity can not now affect matter, as matter is known to man,\nman's sense can only be influenced by secondary attributes of this\nenergy. Unconscious of its all-pervading presence, however, man is\nworking towards the power that will some day, upon the development of\nlatent senses, open to him this new world. Then at last he will move\nwithout muscular exertion, or the use of heat as an agent of motion, and\nwill, as I am now doing, bridle the motion of space. Wherever he may be\nsituated, there will then be warmth to any degree that he wishes, for he\nwill be able to temper the seasons, and mass motion illimitable, also,\nfor this energy, I reiterate, is omnipresent. However, as you will know\nmore of this before long, we will pass the subject for the present.\"\n\nMy guide slowly moved the lever. I sat in deep reflection, beginning to\ncomprehend somewhat of his reasoning, and yet my mind was more than\nclouded. The several ambiguous repetitions he had made since our journey\ncommenced, each time suggesting the same idea, clothing it in different\nforms of expression, impressed me vaguely with the conception of a\ncertain something for which I was gradually being prepared, and that I\nmight eventually be educated to grasp, but which he believed my mind was\nnot yet ready to receive. I gathered from what he said that he could\nhave given clearer explanations than he was now doing, and that he\nclothed his language intentionally in mysticism, and that, for some\nreason, he preferred to leave my mind in a condition of uncertainty. The\nvelocity of the boat increased as he again and again cautiously touched\nthe lever, and at last the responsive craft rose nearly out of the\nwater, and skimmed like a bird over its surface. There was no object in\nthat lake of pure crystal to govern me in calculating as to the rapidity\nof our motion, and I studied to evolve a method by which I could time\nour movements. With this object in view I tore a scrap from my clothing\nand tossed it into the air. It fell at my feet as if in a calm. There\nwas no breeze. I picked the fragment up, in bewilderment, for I had\nexpected it to fall behind us. Then it occurred to me, as by a flash,\nthat notwithstanding our apparently rapid motion, there was an entire\nabsence of atmospheric resistance. What could explain the paradox? I\nturned to my guide and again tossed the fragment of cloth upward, and\nagain it settled at my feet. He smiled, and answered my silent inquiry.\n\n\"There is a protecting sheet before us, radiating, fan-like, from the\nbow of our boat as if a large pane of glass were resting on edge, thus\nshedding the force of the wind. This diaphragm catches the attenuated\natmosphere and protects us from its friction.\"\n\n\"But I see no such protecting object,\" I answered.\n\n\"No; it is invisible. You can not see the obstructing power, for it is\nreally a gyrating section of force, and is colorless. That spray of\nmetal on the brow of our boat is the developer of this protecting\nmedium. Imagine a transverse section of an eddy of water on edge before\nus, and you can form a comparison. Throw the bit of garment as far as\nyou can beyond the side of the boat.\"\n\nI did so, and saw it flutter slowly away to a considerable distance\nparallel with our position in the boat as though in a perfect calm, and\nthen it disappeared. It seemed to have been dissolved. I gazed at my\nguide in amazement.\n\n\"Try again,\" said he.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE BIT OF GARMENT FLUTTERED LISTLESSLY AWAY TO THE SAME\nDISTANCE, AND THEN--VACANCY.\"]\n\nI tore another and a larger fragment from my coat sleeve. I fixed my\neyes closely upon it, and cast it from me. The bit of garment fluttered\nlistlessly away to the same distance, and then--vacancy. Wonders of\nwonderland, mysteries of the mysterious! What would be the end of this\nmarvelous journey? Suspicion again possessed me, and distrust arose.\nCould not my self-existence be blotted out in like manner? I thought\nagain of my New York home, and the recollection of upper earth, and\nthose broken family ties brought to my heart a flood of bitter emotions.\nI inwardly cursed the writer of that alchemistic letter, and cursed\nmyself for heeding the contents. The tears gushed from my eyes and\ntrickled through my fingers as I covered my face with my hands and\ngroaned aloud. Then, with a gentle touch, my guide's hand rested on my\nshoulder.\n\n\"Calm yourself,\" he said; \"this phenomenon is a natural sequence to a\ndeeper study of nature than man has reached. It is simply the result of\nan exhibition of rapid motion. You are upon a great underground lake,\nthat, on a shelf of earth substance one hundred and fifty miles below\nthe earth's surface, covers an area of many thousand square miles, and\nwhich has an average depth of five miles. We are now crossing it\ndiagonally at a rapid rate by the aid of the force that man will yet use\nin a perfectly natural manner on the rough upper ocean and bleak lands\nof the earth's coarse surface. The fragments of cloth disappeared from\nsight when thrown beyond the influence of our protecting diaphragm,\nbecause when they struck the outer motionless atmosphere they were\ninstantly left behind; the eye could not catch their sudden change in\nmotion. A period of time is necessary to convey from eye to mind the\nsensation of sight. The bullet shot from a gun is invisible by reason of\nthe fact that the eye can not discern the momentary interruption to the\nlight. A cannon ball will compass the field of vision of the eye, moving\nacross it without making itself known, and yet the fact does not excite\nsurprise. We are traveling so fast that small, stationary objects\noutside our track are invisible.\"\n\nThen in a kind, pathetic tone of voice, he said:\n\n\"An important lesson you should learn, I have mentioned it before.\nWhatever seems to be mysterious, or marvelous, is only so because of the\nlack of knowledge of associated natural phenomena and connected\nconditions. All that you have experienced, all that you have yet to meet\nin your future journey, is as I have endeavored to teach you, in exact\naccordance with the laws that govern the universe, of which the earth\nconstitutes so small a portion that, were the conditions favorable, it\ncould be blotted from its present existence as quickly as that bit of\ngarment disappeared, and with as little disturbance of the mechanism of\nthe moving universe.\"\n\nI leaned over, resting my face upon my elbow; my thoughts were\nimmethodically wandering in the midst of multiplying perplexities; I\nclosed my eyes as a weary child, and slept.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\n\n SLEEP, DREAMS, NIGHTMARE.--\"STRANGLE THE LIFE FROM MY BODY.\"\n\n\nI know not how long I sat wrapped in slumber. Even if my body had not\nbeen wearing away as formerly, my mind had become excessively wearied. I\nhad existed in a state of abnormal mental intoxication far beyond the\nperiod of accustomed wakefulness, and had taxed my mental organization\nbeyond endurance. In the midst of events of the most startling\ndescription, I had abruptly passed into what was at its commencement the\nsweetest sleep of my recollection, but which came to a horrible\ntermination.\n\nIn my dream I was transported once more to my native land, and roamed in\nfreedom throughout the streets of my lost home. I lived over again my\nearly life in Virginia, and I seemed to have lost all recollection of\nthe weird journey which I had lately taken. My subsequent connection\nwith the brotherhood of alchemists, and the unfortunate letter that led\nto my present condition, were forgotten. There came no thought\nsuggestive of the train of events that are here chronicled, and as a\nchild I tasted again the pleasures of innocence, the joys of boyhood.\n\nThen my dream of childhood vanished, and the scenes of later days spread\nthemselves before me. I saw, after a time, the scenes of my later life,\nas though I viewed them from a distance, and was impressed with the idea\nthat they were not real, but only the fragments of a dream. I shuddered\nin my childish dreamland, and trembled as a child would at confronting\nevents of the real life that I had passed through on earth, and that\ngradually assuming the shape of man approached and stood before me, a\nhideous specter seemingly ready to absorb me. The peaceful child in\nwhich I existed shrunk back, and recoiled from the approaching living\nman.\n\n\"Away, away,\" I cried, \"you shall not grasp me, I do not wish to become\na man; this can not, must not be the horrible end to a sweet existence.\"\n\nGradually the Man Life approached, seized and enveloped me, closing\naround me as a jelly fish surrounds its living victim, while the horrors\nof a nightmare came over my soul.\n\n\"Man's life is a fearful dream,\" I shouted, as I writhed in agony; \"I am\nstill a child, and will remain one; keep off! Life of man, away! let me\nlive and die a child.\"\n\nThe Specter of Man's Life seized me more firmly as I struggled to\nescape, and holding me in its irresistible clutch absorbed my substance\nas a vampire might suck the blood of an infant, and while the childish\ndream disappeared in that hideous embrace, the miserable man awoke.\n\nI found myself on land. The guide, seated at my side, remarked:\n\n\"You have slept.\"\n\n\"I have lived again,\" I said in bitterness.\n\n\"You have not lived at all as yet,\" he replied; \"life is a dream,\nusually it is an unsatisfied nightmare.\"\n\n\"Then let me dream again as at the beginning of this slumber,\" I said;\n\"and while I dream as a child, do you strangle the life from my\nbody,--spare me the nightmare, I would not live to reach the Life of\nMan.\"\n\n\"This is sarcasm,\" he replied; \"you are as changeable as the winds of\nthe earth's surface. Now as you are about to approach a part of our\njourney where fortitude is necessary, behold, you waver as a little\nchild might. Nerve yourself; the trials of the present require a steady\nmind, let the future care for itself; you can not recall the past.\"\n\nI became attentive again; the depressing effects of that repulsive dream\nrapidly lifted, and wasted away, as I realized that I was a man, and was\ndestined to see more than can be seen in the future of other mortals.\nThis elevation of my spirit was evidently understood by my guide. He\nturned to the lake, and pointing to its quiet bosom, remarked:\n\n\"For five hours we have journeyed over this sheet of water at the\naverage rate of nine hundred miles an hour. At the time you threw the\nfragments of cloth overboard, we were traveling at a speed of not less\nthan twenty miles per minute. You remember that some hours ago you\ncriticised my assertion when I said that we would soon be near the axis\nof the earth beneath the North Pole, and now we are beyond that point,\nand are about six thousand miles from where we stood at that time.\"\n\n\"You must have your way,\" I replied; \"I can not disprove your assertion,\nbut were it not that I have passed through so many marvelous experiences\nsince first we met, I would question the reliability of your\ninformation.\"\n\nMy guide continued:\n\n\"The surface of this lake lies as a mirror beneath both the ocean and\nthe land. The force effect that preserves the configuration of the ocean\npreserves the form of this also, but influences it to a less extent, and\nthe two surfaces lie nearly parallel with each other, this one being one\nhundred and fifty miles beneath the surface of the earth. The shell of\nthe earth above us is honeycombed by caverns in some places, in others\nit is compact, and yet, in most places, is impervious to water. At the\nfarther extremity of the lake, a stratum of porous material extends\nthrough the space intervening between the bottom of the ocean and this\nlake. By capillary attraction, assisted by gravitation, part of the\nwater of the ocean is being transferred through this stratum to the\nunderground cavity. The lake is slowly rising.\"\n\nAt this remark I interrupted him: \"You say the water in the ocean is\nbeing slowly transferred down to this underground lake less by gravity\nthan by capillarity.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I believe that I have reason to question that statement, if you do not\ninclude the salt,\" I replied.\n\n\"Pray state your objections.\"\n\nI answered: \"Whether a tube be long or short, if it penetrate the bottom\nof a vessel of brine, and extend downward, the brine will flow into and\nout of it by reason of its weight.\"\n\n\"You mistake,\" he asserted; \"the attraction of the sides of the\ncapillary tube, if the tube is long enough, will eventually separate the\nwater from the salt, and at length a downward flow of water only will\nresult.\"\n\nI again expressed my incredulity.\n\n\"More than this, by perfectly natural laws the water that is freed from\nthe tubes might again force itself upward perfectly fresh, to the\nsurface of the earth--yes, under proper conditions, above the surface of\nthe ocean.\"\n\n\"Do you take me for a fool?\" I said. \"Is it not self-evident that a\nfountain can not rise above its source?\"\n\n\"It often does,\" he answered.\n\n\"You trifle with me,\" I said, acrimoniously.\n\n\"No,\" he replied; \"I am telling you the truth. Have you never heard of\nwhat men call artesian wells?\"\n\n\"Yes, and\" (here I attempted in turn to become sarcastic) \"have you\nnever learned that they are caused by water flowing into crevices in\nuplands where layers of stone or of clay strata separated by sand or\ngravel slant upward. The water conducted thence by these channels\nafterwards springs up in the valleys to which it has been carried by\nmeans of the crevices in these strata, but it never rises above its\nsource.\"\n\nTo my surprise he answered:\n\n\"This is another of man's scientific speculations, based on some facts,\nit is true, and now and then correct, but not invariably. The water of\nan artesian well on an elevated plane may flow into the earth from a\ncreek, pond, or river, that is lower than the mouth of the well it\nfeeds, and still it may spout into the air from either a near or distant\nelevation that is higher than its source.\"\n\n\"I can not admit the truth of this,\" I said; \"I am willing to listen to\nreason, but such statements as these seem altogether absurd.\"\n\n\"As you please,\" he replied; \"we will continue our journey.\"\n\n\n\n\nINTERLUDE.--THE STORY INTERRUPTED.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\n\n A CHALLENGE.--MY UNBIDDEN GUEST ACCEPTS IT.\n\n\nThe white-haired reader, in whom I had now become deeply interested, no\nlonger an unwelcome stranger, suspended his reading, laid down his\nmanuscript, and looking me in the face, asked:\n\n\"Are you a believer?\"\n\n\"No,\" I promptly answered.\n\n\"What part of the narrative do you question?\"\n\n\"All of it.\"\n\n\"Have you not already investigated some of the statements I previously\nmade?\" he queried.\n\n\"Yes,\" I said; \"but you had not then given utterance to such\npreposterous expressions.\"\n\n\"Is not the truth, the truth?\" he answered.\n\n\"You ask me to believe impossibilities,\" I replied.\n\n\"Name one.\"\n\n\"You yourself admit,\" I said warmly, \"that you were incredulous, and\nshook your head when your guide asserted that the bottom of the ocean\nmight be as porous as a sieve, and still hold water. A fountain can not\nrise above its source.\"\n\n\"It often does, however,\" he replied.\n\n\"I do not believe you,\" I said boldly. \"And, furthermore, I assert that\nyou might as reasonably ask me to believe that I can see my own brain,\nas to accept your fiction regarding the production of light, miles below\nthe surface of the earth.\"\n\n\"I can make your brain visible to you, and if you dare to accompany me,\nI will carry you beneath the surface of the earth and prove my other\nstatement,\" he said. \"Come!\" He arose and grasped my arm.\n\nI hesitated.\n\n\"You confess that you fear the journey.\"\n\nI made no reply.\n\n\"Well, since you fear that method, I am ready to convince you of the\nfacts by any rational course you may select, and if you wish to stake\nyour entire argument on the general statement that a stream of water can\nnot rise above its head, I will accept the challenge; but I insist that\nyou do not divulge the nature of the experiment until, as you are\ndirected, you make public my story.\"\n\n\"Of course a fluid can be pumped up,\" I sarcastically observed.\n\"However, I promise the secrecy you ask.\"\n\n\"I am speaking seriously,\" he said, \"and I have accepted your challenge;\nyour own eyes shall view the facts, your own hands prepare the\nconditions necessary. Procure a few pints of sand, and a few pounds of\nsalt; to-morrow evening I will be ready to make the experiment.\"\n\n\"Agreed; if you will induce a stream of water to run up hill, a fountain\nto rise above its head, I will believe any statement you may henceforth\nmake.\"\n\n\"Be ready, then,\" he replied, \"and procure the materials named.\" So\nsaying he picked up his hat and abruptly departed.\n\nThese substances I purchased the next day, procuring the silver sand\nfrom Gordon's pharmacy, corner of Eighth and Western Row, and promptly\nat the specified time we met in my room.\n\nHe came, provided with a cylindrical glass jar about eighteen inches\nhigh and two inches in diameter (such as I have since learned is called\na hydrometer jar), and a long, slender drawn glass tube, the internal\ndiameter of which was about one-sixteenth of an inch.\n\n\"You have deceived me,\" I said; \"I know well enough that capillary\nattraction will draw a liquid above its surface. You demonstrated that\nquite recently to my entire satisfaction.\"\n\n\"True, and yet not true of this experiment,\" he said. \"I propose to\nforce water through and out of this tube; capillary attraction will not\nexpel a liquid from a tube if its mouth be above the surface of the\nsupply.\"\n\nHe dipped the tip of a capillary tube into a tumbler of water; the water\nrose inside the tube about an inch above the surface of the water in the\ntumbler.\n\n\"Capillary attraction can do no more,\" he said. \"Break the tube\none-eighth of an inch above the water (far below the present capillary\nsurface), and it will not overflow. The exit of the tube must be lower\nthan the surface of the liquid if circulation ensues.\"\n\nHe broke off a fragment, and the result was as predicted.\n\nThen he poured water into the glass jar to the depth of about six\ninches, and selecting a piece of very thin muslin, about an inch square,\nturned it over the end of the glass tube, tied it in position, and\ndropped that end of the tube into the cylinder.\n\n\"The muslin simply prevents the tube from filling with sand,\" he\nexplained. Then he poured sand into the cylinder until it reached the\nsurface of the water. (See Figure 23.)\n\n\"Your apparatus is simple enough,\" I remarked, I am afraid with some\nsarcasm.\n\n\"Nature works with exceeding simplicity,\" he replied; \"there is no\ncomplex apparatus in her laboratory, and I copy after nature.\"\n\nThen he dissolved the salt in a portion of water that he drew from the\nhydrant into my wash bowl, making a strong brine, and stirred sand into\nthe brine to make a thick mush. This mixture of sand and brine he then\npoured into the cylinder, filling it nearly to the top. (See Figure 23,\nB. The sand settling soon left a layer of brine above it, as shown by\nA.) I had previously noticed that the upper end of the glass tube was\ncurved, and my surprise can be imagined when I saw that at once water\nbegan to flow through the tube, dropping quite rapidly into the\ncylinder. The lower end of the curve of the glass tube was fully half an\ninch above the surface of the liquid in the cylinder.\n\nI here present a figure of the apparatus. (Figure 23.)\n\nThe strange man, or man image, I do not know which, sat before me, and\nin silence we watched the steady flow of water, water rising above its\nsurface and flowing into the reservoir from which it was being\ncontinually derived.\n\n\"Do you give up?\" he asked.\n\n\"Let me think,\" I said.\n\n\"As you please,\" he replied.\n\n\"How long will this continue?\" I inquired.\n\n\"Until strong salt water flows from the tube.\"\n\nThen the old man continued:\n\n\"I would suggest that after I depart you repeat these experiments. The\nobservations of those interested in science must be repeated time and\nagain by separate individuals. It is not sufficient that one person\nshould observe a phenomenon; repeated experiments are necessary in order\nto overcome error of manipulation, and to convince others of their\ncorrectness. Not only yourself, but many others, after this manuscript\nappears, should go through with similar investigations, varied in detail\nas mind expansion may suggest. This experiment is but the germ of a\nthought which will be enlarged upon by many minds under other\nconditions. An event meteorological may occur in the experience of one\nobserver, and never repeat itself. This is possible. The results of such\nexperiments as you are observing, however, must be followed by similar\nresults in the hands of others, and in behalf of science it is necessary\nthat others should be able to verify your experience. In the time to\ncome it will be necessary to support your statements in order to\ndemonstrate that your perceptive faculties are now in a normal\ncondition. Are you sure that your conceptions of these results are\njustified by normal perception? May you not be in an exalted state of\nmind that hinders clear perception, and compels you to imagine and\naccept as fact that which does not exist? Do you see what you think you\nsee? After I am gone, and the influences that my person and mind exert\non your own mind have been removed, will these results, as shown by my\nexperiments, follow similar experimental conditions? In the years that\nare to pass before this paper is to be made public, it will be your duty\nto verify your present sense faculty. This you must do as opportunities\npresent, and with different devices, so that no question may arise as to\nwhat will follow when others repeat our experiments. To-morrow evening I\nwill call again, but remember, you must not tell others of this\nexperiment, nor show the devices to them.\"\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 23. A, brine. B, sand and brine mixed. C, sand and\nwater.]\n\n\"I have promised,\" I answered.\n\nHe gathered his manuscript and departed, and I sat in meditation\nwatching the mysterious fountain.\n\nAs he had predicted, finally, after a long time, the flow slackened, and\nby morning, when I arose from my bed, the water had ceased to drip, and\nthen I found it salty to the taste.\n\nThe next evening he appeared as usual, and prepared to resume his\nreading, making no mention of the previous test of my faith. I\ninterrupted him, however, by saying that I had observed that the sand\nhad settled in the cylinder, and that in my opinion his experiment was\nnot true to appearances, but was a deception, since the sand by its\ngreater weight displaced the water, which escaped through the tube,\nwhere there was least resistance.\n\n\"Ah,\" he said, \"and so you refuse to believe your own eyesight, and are\ncontriving to escape the deserved penalty; I will, however, acquiesce in\nyour outspoken desire for further light, and repeat the experiment\nwithout using sand. But I tell you that mother earth, in the phenomena\nknown as artesian wells, uses sand and clay, pools of mineral waters of\ndifferent gravities, and running streams. The waters beneath the earth\nare under pressure, induced by such natural causes as I have presented\nyou in miniature, the chief difference being that the supplies of both\nsalt and fresh water are inexhaustible, and by natural combinations\nsimilar to what you have seen; the streams within the earth, if a pipe\nbe thrust into them, may rise continuously, eternally, from a reservoir\nhigher than the head. In addition, there are pressures of gases, and\nsolutions of many salts, other than chloride of soda, that tend to favor\nthe phenomenon. You are unduly incredulous, and you ask of me more than\nyour right after staking your faith on an experiment of your own\nselection. You demand more of me even than nature often accomplishes in\nearth structure; but to-morrow night I will show you that this seemingly\nimpossible feat is possible.\"\n\nHe then abruptly left the room. The following evening he presented\nhimself with a couple of one-gallon cans, one of them without a bottom.\nI thought I could detect some impatience of manner as he filled the\nperfect can (D) with water from the hydrant, and having spread a strip\nof thin muslin over the mouth of the other can (B), pressed it firmly\nover the mouth (C) of the can of water, which it fitted tightly, thus\nconnecting them together, the upper (bottomless) can being inverted.\nThen he made a narrow slit in the center of the muslin with his\npen-knife, and through it thrust a glass tube like that of our former\nexperiment. Next he wrapped a string around the open top of the upper\ncan, crossed it over the top, and tied the glass tube to the center of\nthe cross string.\n\n\"Simply to hold this tube in position,\" he explained.\n\nThe remainder of the bag of salt left from the experiment of the\npreceding evening was then dissolved in water, and the brine poured into\nthe upper can, filling it to the top. Then carefully thrusting the glass\ntube downward, he brought the tip of the curve to within about one-half\ninch of the surface of the brine, when immediately a rapid flow of\nliquid exhibited itself. (Figure 24.)\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 24.\n\nA, surface of brine.\n\nB, upper can filled with brine.\n\nC, necks of cans telescoped.\n\nD, lower can full of water.]\n\n\"It rises above its source without sand,\" he observed.\n\n\"I can not deny the fact,\" I replied, \"and furthermore I am determined\nthat I shall not question any subsequent statement that you may make.\"\nWe sat in silence for some time, and the water ran continuously through\nthe tube. I was becoming alarmed, afraid of my occult guest, who\naccepted my self-selected challenges, and worked out his results so\nrapidly; he seemed to be more than human.\n\n\"I am a mortal, but a resident of a higher plane than you,\" he replied,\ndivining my thoughts. \"Is not this experiment a natural one?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said.\n\n\"Did not Shakspeare write, 'There are more things in heaven and earth,\nHoratio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said.\n\nAnd my guest continued:\n\n\"He might have added, 'and always will be'.\"\n\n\"Scientific men will explain this phenomenon,\" I suggested.\n\n\"Yes, when they observe the facts,\" he replied, \"it is very simple. They\ncan now tell, as I have before remarked, how Columbus stood the egg on\nend; however, given the problem before Columbus expounded it, they would\nprobably have wandered as far from the true solution as the mountain\nwith its edgewise layers of stone is from the disconnected artesian\nwells on a distant sea coast where the underground fresh and salt water\nin overlying currents and layers clash together. The explanation, of\ncourse, is simple. The brine is of greater specific gravity than the\npure water; the pressure of the heavier fluid forces the lighter up in\nthe tube. This action continues until, as you will see by this\nexperiment, in the gradual diffusion of brine and pure water the salt is\ndisseminated equally throughout the vessels, and the specific gravity of\nthe mixed liquid becomes the same throughout, when the flow will cease.\nHowever, in the earth, where supplies are inexhaustible, the fountain\nflows unceasingly.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX.\n\n BEWARE OF BIOLOGY, THE SCIENCE OF THE LIFE OF MAN.[6]\n\n(The old man relates a story as an object lesson.)\n\n [6] The reader is invited to skip this chapter of horrors.--J. U. L.\n\n\n\"But you have not lived up to the promise; you have evaded part of the\nbargain,\" I continued. \"While you have certainly performed some curious\nexperiments in physics which seem to be unique, yet, I am only an\namateur in science, and your hydrostatic illustrations may be\nrepetitions of investigations already recorded, that have escaped the\nattention of the scientific gentlemen to whom I have hitherto applied.\"\n\n\"Man's mind is a creature of doubts and questions,\" he observed. \"Answer\none query, and others rise. His inner self is never satisfied, and you\nare not to blame for wishing for a sign, as all self-conscious\nconditions of your former existence compel. Now that I have brushed\naside the more prominent questionings, you insist upon those omitted,\nand appeal to me to--\" he hesitated.\n\n\"To what?\" I asked, curious to see if he had intuitively grasped my\nunspoken sentence.\n\n\"To exhibit to you your own brain,\" he replied.\n\n\"That is it exactly,\" I said; \"you promised it, and you shall be held\nstrictly to your bargain. You agreed to show me my own brain, and it\nseems evident that you have purposely evaded the promise.\"\n\n\"That I have made the promise and deferred its completion can not be\ndenied, but not by reason of an inability to fulfill the contract. I\nwill admit that I purposely deferred the exhibition, hoping on your own\naccount that you would forget the hasty promise. You would better\nrelease me from the promise; you do not know what you ask.\"\n\n\"I believe that I ask more than you can perform,\" I answered, \"and that\nyou know it.\"\n\n\"Let me give you a history,\" he said, \"and then perhaps you will\nrelent. Listen. A man once became involved in the study of anatomy. It\nled him to destruction. He commenced the study in order to learn a\nprofession; he hoped to become a physician. Materia medica, pharmacy,\nchemistry, enticed him at first, but after a time presented no charms.\nHe was a dull student in much that men usually consider essential to the\npractice of medicine. He was not fitted to be a physician. Gradually he\nbecame absorbed in two branches, physiology and anatomy. Within his\nmental self a latent something developed that neither himself nor his\nfriends had suspected. This was an increasing desire for knowledge\nconcerning the human body. The insatiable craving for anatomy grew upon\nhim, and as it did so other sections of medicine were neglected.\nGradually he lost sight of his professional object; he dropped\nchemistry, materia medica, pharmacy, and at last, morbidly lived only in\nthe aforenamed two branches.\n\n\"His first visit to the dissecting room was disagreeable. The odor of\nputrid flesh, the sight of the mutilated bodies repulsed him. When first\nhis hand, warm in life, touched the clammy flesh of a corpse, he\nshuddered. Then when his fingers came in contact with the viscera of a\ncadaver, that of a little child, he cried out in horror. The\ndemonstrator of anatomy urged him on; he finally was induced to dissect\npart of the infant. The reflex action on his sensitive mind first\nstunned, and then warped his senses. His companions had to lead him from\nthe room. 'Wash it off, wash it off,' he repeated, trying to throw his\nhand from his person. 'Horrid, horrible, unclean. The child is yet\nbefore me,' he insisted. Then he went into a fever and raved. 'Some\nmother will meet me on the street and curse me,' he cried. 'That hand is\nred with the blood of my darling; it has desecrated the innocent dead,\nand mutilated that which is most precious to a mother. Take the hand\naway, wash it,' he shouted. 'The mother curses me; she demands\nretribution. Better that a man be dead than cursed by a mother whose\nchild has been desecrated.' So the unfortunate being raved, dreaming all\nmanner of horrid imaginings. But at last he recovered, a different man.\nHe returned voluntarily to the dissecting-room, and wrapped himself in\nthe uncouth work. Nothing in connection with corpse-mutilation was now\noffensive or unclean. He threw aside his other studies, he became a\nslave possessed of one idea. He scarcely took time to dine respectably;\nindeed, he often ate his lunch in the dissecting-room. The blood of a\nchild was again and again on his fingers; it mattered not, he did not\ntake the trouble to wash it off. 'The liver of man is not more sacred\nthan the liver of a hog,' he argued; 'the flesh of a man is the same as\nother forms of animal food. When a person dies the vital heat escapes,\nconsciousness is dissipated, and the cold, rigid remains are only\nanimal. Consciousness and life are all that is of man--one is force, the\nother matter; when man dies both perish and are dissipated.' His friends\nperceived his fondness for dissection, and argued with him again,\nendeavoring now to overcome his infatuation; he repelled them. 'I\nlearned in my vision,' he said, referring to his fever, 'that Pope was\nright in saying that the \"proper study of mankind is man\"; I care\nnothing for your priestly superstitions concerning the dead. These\nfables are the invention of designing churchmen who live on the\nsuperstitions of the ignorant. I am an infidel, and believe in no spirit\nintangible; that which can be seen, felt, and weighed is, all else is\nnot. Life is simply a sensation. All beyond is chimerical, less than\nfantastic, believed in only by dupes and weak-minded, credulous tools of\nknaves, or creatures of blind superstition.' He carried the finely\narticulated, bleached skull of a cadaver to his room, and placed it\nbeside a marble statue that was a valued heirloom, the model of Venus of\nMilo. 'Both are lime compounds,' he cynically observed, 'neither is\nbetter than the other.' His friends protested. 'Your superstitious\neducation is at fault,' he answered; 'you mentally clothe one of these\nobjects in a quality it does not deserve, and the thought creates a\npleasant emotion. The other, equally as pure, reminds you of the grave\nthat you fear, and you shudder. These mental pulsations are artificial,\nboth being either survivals of superstition, or creations of your own\nmind. The lime in the skull is now as inanimate as that of the statue;\nneither object is responsible for its form, neither is unclean. To me,\nthe delicate configuration, the exact articulation, the perfect\nadaptation for the office it originally filled, makes each bone of this\nskull a thing of beauty, an object of admiration. As a whole, it gives\nme pleasure to think of this wonderful, exquisitely arranged piece of\nmechanism. The statue you admire is in every respect outrivaled by the\nskull, and I have placed the two together because it pleases me to\ndemonstrate that man's most artistic creation is far inferior to\nmaterial man. Throw aside your sentimental prejudices, and join with me\nin the admiration of this thing of beauty;' and he toyed with the skull\nas if it were a work of art. So he argued, and arguing passed from bone\nto bone, and from organ to organ. He filled his room with abnormal\nfragments of the human body, and surrounded himself with jars of\npreserved anatomical specimens. His friends fled in disgust, and he\nsmiled, glad to be alone with his ghastly subjects. He was infatuated in\none of the alcoves of science.\"\n\nThe old man paused.\n\n\"Shall I proceed?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, but involuntarily moved my chair back, for I began again\nto be afraid of the speaker.\n\n\"At last this scientific man had mastered all that was known concerning\nphysiology and anatomy. He learned by heart the wording of great volumes\ndevoted to these subjects. The human frame became to him as an open\nbook. He knew the articulation of every muscle, could name a bone from a\nmere fragment. The microscope ceased to be an object of interest, the\nsecrets of pathology and physiology had been mastered. Then,\nunconsciously, he was infected by another tendency; a new thought was\ndestined to dominate his brain. 'What is it that animates this frame?\nWhat lies inside to give it life?' He became enthused again: 'The dead\nbody, to which I have given my time, is not the conscious part of man,'\nhe said to himself; 'I must find this thing of life within; I have been\nonly a butcher of the dead. My knowledge is superficial.'\"\n\nAgain the old man hesitated and looked at me inquiringly.\n\n\"Shall I proceed?\" he repeated.\n\nI was possessed by horror, but yet fascinated, and answered\ndeterminedly: \"Go on.\"\n\n\"Beware,\" he added, \"beware of the Science of Life.\"\n\nPleadingly he looked at me.\n\n\"Go on,\" I commanded.\n\nHe continued:\n\n\"With the cunning of a madman, this person of profound learning, led\nfrom the innocence of ignorance to the heartlessness of advanced\nbiological science, secretly planned to seek the vital forces. 'I must\nbegin with a child, for the life essence shows its first manifestations\nin children,' he reasoned. He moved to an unfrequented locality,\ndischarged his servants, and notified his former friends that visitors\nwere unwelcome. He had determined that no interruption to his work\nshould occur. This course was unnecessary, however, for now he had\nneither friends nor visitors. He employed carpenters and artisans, and\nperfected a series of mechanical tables, beautiful examples of automatic\nmechanism. From the inner room of that house no cry could be heard by\npersons outside....\n\n [It will be seen, by referring to the epilogue, that Mr. Drury\n agreed to mutilate part of the book. This I have gladly done,\n excising the heart-rending passages that follow. To use the words\n of Prof. Venable, they do not \"comport with the general delicacy\n of the book.\"--J. U. L.]\n\n\"Hold, old man, cease,\" I cried aghast; \"I have had enough of this. You\ntrifle with me, demon; I have not asked for nightmare stories,\nheart-curdling accounts of maniacal investigators, who madly pursue\ntheir revolting calling, and discredit the name of science.\"\n\n\"You asked to see your own brain,\" he replied.\n\n\"And have been given a terrible story instead,\" I retorted.\n\n\"So men perverted, misconstruing the aim of science, answer the cry of\nhumanity,\" he said. \"One by one the cherished treasures of Christianity\nhave been stolen from the faithful. What, to the mother, can replace the\nbabe that has been lost?\"\n\n\"The next world,\" I answered, \"offers a comfort.\"\n\n\"Bah,\" he said; \"does not another searcher in that same science field\ntell the mother that there is no personal hereafter, that she will never\nsee her babe again? One man of science steals the body, another man of\nscience takes away the soul, the third annihilates heaven; they go like\npestilence and famine, hand in hand, subsisting on all that craving\nhumanity considers sacred, and offering no tangible return beyond a\nmaterialistic present. This same science that seems to be doing so much\nfor humanity will continue to elevate so-called material civilization\nuntil, as the yeast ferment is smothered in its own excretion, so will\nscience-thought create conditions to blot itself from existence, and\ndestroy the civilization it creates. Science is heartless,\nnotwithstanding the personal purity of the majority of her helpless\nvotaries. She is a thief, not of ordinary riches, but of treasures that\ncan not be replaced. Before science provings the love of a mother\nperishes, the hope of immortality is annihilated. Beware of materialism,\nthe end of the science of man. Beware of the beginning of biological\ninquiry, for he who commences, can not foresee the termination. I say to\nyou in candor, no man ever engaged in the part of science lore that\nquestions the life essence, realizing the possible end of his\ninvestigations. The insidious servant becomes a tyrannical master; the\nhousebreaker is innocent, the horse thief guiltless in comparison.\nScience thought begins in the brain of man; science provings end all\nthings with the end of the material brain of man. Beware of your own\nbrain.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"RISING ABRUPTLY, HE GRASPED MY HAND.\"]\n\n\"I have no fear,\" I replied, \"that I will ever be led to disturb the\ncreeds of the faithful, and I will not be diverted. I demand to see my\nbrain.\"\n\n\"Your demand shall now be fulfilled; you have been warned of the return\nthat may follow the commencement of this study; you force the issue; my\nresponsibility ceases. No man of science realized the end when he began\nto investigate his throbbing brain, and the end of the fabric that\nscience is weaving for man rests in the hidden future. The story I have\nrelated is a true one, as thousands of faithful men who unconsciously\nhave been led into infidelity have experienced; and as the faithful\nfollowers of sacred teachings can also perceive, who recognize that\ntheir religion and the hope of heaven is slipping away beneath the\nsteady inroad of the heartless materialistic investigator, who clothes\nhimself in the garb of science.\"\n\nRising abruptly from his chair, he grasped my hand. \"You shall see your\nbrain, man; come.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX.\n\n LOOKING BACKWARD.--THE LIVING BRAIN.\n\n\nThe old man accompanied his word \"come,\" as I have said, by rising from\nhis chair, and then with a display of strength quite out of proportion\nto his age, he grasped my wrist and drew me toward the door. Realizing\nat once that he intended I should accompany him into the night, I\nprotested, saying that I was quite unprepared.\n\n\"My hat, at least,\" I insisted, as he made no recognition of my first\ndemur.\n\n\"Your hat is on your head,\" he replied.\n\nThis was true, although I am sure the hat had been previously hung on a\nrack in a distant part of the room, and I am equally certain that\nneither my companion nor myself had touched it. Leaving me no time for\nreflection, he opened the door, and drew me through the hall-way and\ninto the gloom. As though perfectly familiar with the city, he guided me\nfrom my cozy home, on the retired side street in which I resided,\neastwardly into the busy thoroughfare, Western Row. Our course led us\ndown towards the river, past Ninth, Eighth, Seventh Streets. Now and\nthen a pedestrian stopped to gaze in surprise at the unique spectacle,\nthe old man leading the young one, but none made any attempt to molest\nus. We passed on in silence, out of the busy part of the thoroughfare\nand into the shady part of the city, into the darkness below Fifth\nStreet. Here the residences were poorer, and tenement-houses and\nfactories began to appear. We were now in a quarter of the city into\nwhich strangers seldom, if ever, penetrated after night, and in which I\nwould not have cared to be found unprotected at any time after sunset,\nmuch less in such questionable company. I protested against the\nindiscretion; my leader made no reply, but drew me on past the\nflickering gas lights that now and then appeared at the intersection of\nThird, Pearl, Second, and Water Streets, until at last we stood, in\ndarkness, on the bank of the Ohio River.\n\nStrange, the ferry-boat at that time of night only made a trip every\nthirty minutes, and yet it was at the landing as though by appointment.\nFear began to possess me, and as my thoughts recur to that evening, I\ncan not understand how it was that I allowed myself to be drawn without\ncry or resistance from my secure home to the Ohio River, in such\ncompanionship. I can account for the adventure only by the fact that I\nhad deliberately challenged my companion to make the test he was\nfulfilling, and that an innate consciousness of pride and justice\ncompelled me to permit him to employ his own methods. We crossed the\nriver without speaking, and rapidly ascending the levee we took our\ncourse up Main Street into Covington. Still in the lead, my aged guide,\nwithout hesitation, went onward to the intersection of Main and Pike\nStreets; thence he turned to the right, and following the latter\nthoroughfare we passed the old tannery, that I recalled as a familiar\nlandmark, and then started up the hill. Onward we strode, past a hotel\nnamed \"Niemeyer's,\" and soon were in the open country on the Lexington\nPike, treading through the mud, diagonally up the hill back of\nCovington. Then, at a sharp curve in the road where it rounded the point\nof the hill, we left the highway, and struck down the hillside into a\nravine that bounded the lower side of the avenue. We had long since left\nthe city lamps and sidewalks behind us, and now, when we left the\nroadway, were on the muddy pike at a considerable elevation upon the\nhillside and, looking backward, I beheld innumerable lights throughout\nthe cities of Cincinnati, Covington, and the village of Newport,\nsparkling away in the distance behind and below us.\n\n\"Come,\" my companion said again, as I hesitated, repeating the only word\nhe had uttered since telling his horrible story, \"Come!\"\n\nDown the hill into the valley we plunged, and at last he opened the door\nof an isolated log cabin, which we entered. He lighted a candle that he\ndrew from his pocket, and together we stood facing each other.\n\n\"Be seated,\" he said dryly.\n\nAnd then I observed that the cold excuse for furniture in that desolate\nroom consisted of a single rude, hand-made chair with corn-shuck bottom.\nHowever, I did not need a second invitation, but sank exhausted and\ndisconsolate upon the welcome object.\n\nMy companion lost no time, but struck at once into the subject that\nconcerned us, arguing as follows:\n\n\"One of the troubles with humanity is that of changing a thought from\nthe old to a new channel; to grasp at one effort an entirely new idea is\nan impossibility. Men follow men in trains of thought expression, as in\nbodily form generations of men follow generations. A child born with\nthree legs is a freak of nature, a monstrosity, yet it sometimes\nappears. A man possessed of a new idea is an anomaly, a something that\nmay not be impossible, but which has never appeared. It is almost as\ndifficult to conceive of a new idea as it is to create out of nothing a\nnew material or an element. Neither thoughts nor things can be invented,\nboth must be evolved out of a preexisting something which it necessarily\nresembles. Every advanced idea that appears in the brain of man is the\nresult of a suggestion from without. Men have gone on and on\nceaselessly, with their minds bent in one direction, ever looking\noutwardly, never inwardly. It has not occurred to them to question at\nall in the direction of backward sight. Mind has been enabled to read\nthe impressions that are made in and on the substance of brain\nconvolutions, but at the same time has been and is insensible to the\nexistence of the convolutions themselves. It is as though we could read\nthe letters of the manuscript that bears them without having conceived\nof a necessity for the existence of a printed surface, such as paper or\nanything outside the letters. Had anatomists never dissected a brain,\nthe human family would to-day live in absolute ignorance of the nature\nof the substance that lies within the skull. Did you ever stop to think\nthat the mind can not now bring to the senses the configuration, or\nnature, of the substance in which mind exists? Its own house is unknown.\nThis is in consequence of the fact that physical existence has always\ndepended upon the study of external surroundings, and consequently the\npower of internal sight lies undeveloped. It has never been deemed\nnecessary for man to attempt to view the internal construction of his\nbody, and hence the sense of feeling only advises him of that which lies\nwithin his own self. This sense is abstract, not descriptive. Normal\norgans have no sensible existence. Thus an abnormal condition of an\norgan creates the sensation of pain or pleasure, but discloses nothing\nconcerning the appearance or construction of the organ affected. The\nperfect liver is as vacancy. The normal brain never throbs and aches.\nThe quiescent arm presents no evidence to the mind concerning its shape,\nsize, or color. Man can not count his fingers unless some outside object\ntouches them, or they press successively against each other, or he\nperceives them by sight. The brain of man, the seat of knowledge, in\nwhich mind centers, is not perceptible through the senses. Does it not\nseem irrational, however, to believe that mind itself is not aware, or\ncould not be made cognizant, of the nature of its material\nsurroundings?\"\n\n\"I must confess that I have not given the subject a thought,\" I replied.\n\n\"As I predicted,\" he said. \"It is a step toward a new idea, and simple\nas it seems, now that the subject has been suggested, you must agree\nthat thousands of intelligent men have not been able to formulate the\nthought. The idea had never occurred to them. Even after our previous\nconversation concerning the possibility of showing you your own brain,\nyou were powerless and could not conceive of the train of thought which\nI started, and along which I shall now further direct your senses.\"\n\n\"The eye is so constituted that light produces an impression on a\nnervous film in the rear of that organ, this film is named the retina,\nthe impression being carried backward therefrom through a magma of nerve\nfibers (the optic nerve), and reaching the brain, is recorded on that\norgan and thus affects the mind. Is it not rational to suppose it\npossible for this sequence to be reversed? In other words, if the order\nwere reversed could not the same set of nerves carry an impression from\nbehind to the retina, and picture thereon an image of the object which\nlies anterior thereto, to be again, by reflex action, carried back to\nthe brain, thus bringing the brain substance itself to the view of the\nmind, and thus impress the senses? To recapitulate: If the nerve\nsensation, or force expression, should travel from the brain to the\nretina, instead of from an outward object, it will on the reverse of the\nretina produce the image of that which lies behind, and then if the\noptic nerve carry the image back to the brain, the mind will bring to\nthe senses the appearance of the image depicted thereon.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"FACING THE OPEN WINDOW HE TURNED THE PUPILS OF HIS EYES\nUPWARD.\"]\n\n\"This is my first consideration of the subject,\" I replied.\n\n\"Exactly,\" he said; \"you have passed through life looking at outside\nobjects, and have been heedlessly ignorant of your own brain. You have\nnever made an exclamation of surprise at the statement that you really\nsee a star that exists in the depths of space millions of miles beyond\nour solar system, and yet you became incredulous and scornful when it\nwas suggested that I could show you how you could see the configuration\nof your brain, an object with which the organ of sight is nearly in\ncontact. How inconsistent.\"\n\n\"The chain of reasoning is certainly novel, and yet I can not think of a\nmode by which I can reverse my method of sight and look backward,\" I now\nrespectfully answered.\n\n\"It is very simple; all that is required is a counter excitation of the\nnerve, and we have with us to-night what any person who cares to\nconsider the subject can employ at any time, and thus behold an outline\nof a part of his own brain. I will give you the lesson.\"\n\nPlacing himself before the sashless window of the cabin, which opening\nappeared as a black space pictured against the night, the sage took the\ncandle in his right hand, holding it so that the flame was just below\nthe tip of the nose, and about six inches from his face. Then facing the\nopen window he turned the pupils of his eyes upward, seeming to fix his\ngaze on the upper part of the open window space, and then he slowly\nmoved the candle transversely, backward and forward, across, in front of\nhis face, keeping it in such position that the flickering flame made a\nparallel line with his eyes, and as just remarked, about six inches from\nhis face, and just below the tip of his nose. Speaking deliberately, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Now, were I you, this movement would produce a counter irritation of\nthe retina; a rhythm of the optic nerve would follow, a reflex action of\nthe brain accompanying, and now a figure of part of the brain that rests\nagainst the skull in the back of my head would be pictured on the\nretina. I would see it plainly, apparently pictured or thrown across the\nopen space before me.\"\n\n\"Incredible!\" I replied.\n\n\"Try for yourself,\" quietly said my guide.\n\nPlacing myself in the position designated, I repeated the maneuver, when\nslowly a shadowy something seemed to be evolved out of the blank space\nbefore me. It seemed to be as a gray veil, or like a corrugated sheet as\nthin as gauze, which as I gazed upon it and discovered its outline,\nbecame more apparent and real. Soon the convolutions assumed a more\ndecided form, the gray matter was visible, filled with venations, first\ngray and then red, and as I became familiar with the sight, suddenly the\nconvolutions of a brain in all its exactness, with a network of red\nblood venations, burst into existence.[7]\n\n [7] This experiment is not claimed as original. See\n Purkinje's Beitraege zur Kenntniss des Sehens in\n subjectiver Hinsicht (Prague, 1823 and 1825), whose\n conclusions to the effect that the shadow of the retina is\n seen, I-Am-The-Man ignores.--J. U. L.\n\n[Illustration: \"A BRAIN, A LIVING BRAIN, MY OWN BRAIN.\"]\n\nI beheld a brain, a brain, a living brain, my own brain, and as an\nuncanny sensation possessed me I shudderingly stopped the motion of the\ncandle, and in an instant the shadowy figure disappeared.\n\n\"Have I won the wager?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered.\n\n\"Then,\" said my companion, \"make no further investigations in this\ndirection.\"\n\n\"But I wish to verify the experiment,\" I replied. \"Although it is not a\npleasant test, I can not withstand the temptation to repeat it.\"\n\nAnd again I moved the candle backward and forward, when the figure of my\nbrain sprung at once into existence.\n\n\"It is more vivid,\" I said; \"I see it plainer, and more quickly than\nbefore.\"\n\n\"Beware of the science of man, I repeat,\" he replied; \"now, before you\nare deep in the toils, and can not foresee the end, beware of the\nscience of human biology. Remember the story recently related, that of\nthe physician who was led to destruction by the alluring voice.\"\n\nI made no reply, but stood with my face fixed, slowly moving the candle\nbackward and forward, gazing intently into the depths of my own brain.\n\nAfter a time the old man removed the candle from my hand, and said: \"Do\nyou accept the fact? Have I demonstrated the truth of the assertion?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied; \"but tell me further, now that you have excited my\ninterest, have I seen and learned all that man can discover in this\ndirection?\"\n\n\"No; you have seen but a small portion of the brain convolutions, only\nthose that lie directly back of the optic nerve. By systematic research,\nunder proper conditions, every part of the living brain may become as\nplainly pictured as that which you have seen.\"\n\n\"And is that all that could be learned?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" he continued. \"Further development may enable men to picture the\nfigures engraved on the convolutions, and at last to read the thoughts\nthat are engraved within the brains of others, and thus through material\ninvestigation the observer will perceive the recorded thought of another\nperson. An instrument capable of searching and illuminating the retina\ncould be easily affixed to the eye of a criminal, after which, if the\nmind of the person operated upon were stimulated by the suggestion of an\noccurrence either remote or recent, the mind facility would excite the\nbrain, produce the record, and spread the circumstances as a picture\nbefore the observer. The brain would tell its own story, and the\ninvestigator could read the truth as recorded in the brain of the other\nman. A criminal subjected to such an examination could not tell an\nuntruth, or equivocate; his very brain would present itself to the\nobserver.\"\n\n\"And you make this assertion, and then ask me to go no further into the\nsubject?\"\n\n\"Yes; decidedly yes.\"\n\n\"Tell me, then, could you not have performed this experiment in my room,\nor in the dark cellar of my house?\"\n\n\"Any one can repeat it with a candle in any room not otherwise lighted,\nby looking at a blackboard, a blank wall, or black space,\" he said.\n\nI was indignant.\n\n\"Why have you treated me so inhumanly? Was there a necessity for this\njourney, these mysterious movements, this physical exertion? Look at the\nmud with which I am covered, and consider the return trip which yet lies\nbefore me, and which must prove even more exhausting?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" he said, \"you overdraw. The lesson has been easily acquired.\nScience is not an easy road to travel. Those who propose to profit\nthereby must work circuitously, soil their hands and person, meet\ndiscouragements, and must expect hardships, reverses, abuse, and\ndiscomfort. Do not complain, but thank me for giving you the lesson\nwithout other tribulations that might have accompanied it. Besides,\nthere was another object in my journey, an object that I have quietly\naccomplished, and which you may never know. Come, we must return.\"\n\nHe extinguished the light of the candle, and we departed together,\ntrudging back through the mud and the night.[8]\n\n [8] We must acquiesce in the explanation given for this\n seemingly uncalled-for journey, and yet feel that it was\n unnecessarily exacting.\n\nOf that wearisome return trip I have nothing to say beyond the fact that\nbefore reaching home my companion disappeared in the darkness of a side\nstreet, and that the Cathedral chimes were playing for three o'clock\nA.M., as I passed the corner of Eighth Street and Western Row.\n\nThe next evening my visitor appeared as usual, and realizing his\ncomplete victory, he made no reference to the occurrences of the\nprevious night. In his usual calm and deliberate manner he produced the\nroll of manuscript saying benignantly, and in a gentle tone:\n\n\"Do you recollect where I left off reading?\"\n\n\"You had reached that point in your narrative,\" I answered, \"at which\nyour guide had replaced the boat on the surface of the lake.\"\n\nAnd the mysterious being resumed his reading.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MANUSCRIPT CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI.\n\n A LESSON ON VOLCANOES.--PRIMARY COLORS ARE CAPABLE OF FARTHER\n SUBDIVISION.\n\n\n\"Get into the boat,\" said my eyeless pilot, \"and we will proceed to the\nfarther edge of the lake, over the barrier of which at great intervals\nof time, the surface water flows, and induces the convulsion known as\nMount Epomeo.\"\n\nWe accordingly embarked, and a gentle touch of the lever enabled us\nrapidly to skirt the shore of the underground sea. The soft, bright,\npleasant earth-light continually enveloped us, and the absence of either\nexcessive heat or cold, rendered existence delightful. The weird forms\ntaken by the objects that successively presented themselves on the shore\nwere a source of continual delight to my mind. The motion of our boat\nwas constantly at the will of my guide. Now we would skim across a great\nbay, flashing from point to point; again we wound slowly through\ntortuous channels and among partly submerged stones.\n\n\"What a blessing this mode of locomotion would be to humanity,\" I\nmurmured.\n\n\"Humanity will yet attain it,\" he replied. \"Step by step men have\nstumbled along towards the goal that the light of coming centuries is\ndestined to illuminate. They have studied, and are still engaged in\nstudying, the properties of grosser forces, such as heat and\nelectricity, and they will be led by the thread they are following, to\nthis and other achievements yet unthought of, but which lie back of\nthose more conspicuous.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WE FINALLY REACHED A PRECIPITOUS BLUFF.\"]\n\nWe finally reached a precipitous bluff, that sprung to my view as by\nmagic, and which, with a glass-like surface, stretched upward to a\nheight beyond the scope of my vision, rising straight from the\nsurface of the lake. It was composed of a material seemingly black as\njet, and yet when seen under varying spectacular conditions as we\nskirted its base it reflected, or emitted, most gorgeously the brilliant\nhues of the rainbow, and also other colors hitherto unknown to me.\n\n\"There is something unique in these shades; species of color appear that\nI can not identify; I seem to perceive colors utterly unlike any that I\nknow as the result of deflected, or transmitted, sunlight rays, and they\nlook unlike the combinations of primary colors with which I am\nfamiliar.\"\n\n\"Your observations are true; some of these colors are unknown on earth.\"\n\n\"But on the surface of the earth we have all possible combinations of\nthe seven prismatic rays,\" I answered. \"How can there be others here?\"\n\n\"Because, first, your primary colors are capable of further subdivision.\n\n\"Second, other rays, invisible to men under usual conditions, also\nemanate from the sun, and under favorable circumstances may be brought\nto the sense of sight.\"\n\n\"Do you assert that the prism is capable of only partly analyzing the\nsunlight?\"\n\n\"Yes; what reason have you to argue that, because a triangular bit of\nglass resolves a white ray into seven fractions that are, as men say,\ndifferently colored, you could not by proper methods subdivide each of\nthese so-called primary shades into others? What reason have you to\ndoubt that rays now invisible to man accompany those capable of\nimpressing his senses, and might by proper methods become perceptible as\nnew colors?\"\n\n\"None,\" I answered; \"only that I have no proof that such rays exist.\"\n\n\"But they do exist, and men will yet learn that the term 'primitive'\nray, as applied to each of the seven colors of the rainbow, is\nincorrect. Each will yet be resolved, and as our faculties multiply and\nbecome more subtle, other colors will be developed, possessed of a\ndelicacy and richness indescribable now, for as yet man can not\ncomprehend the possibilities of education beyond the limits of his\npresent condition.\"\n\nDuring this period of conversation we skirted the richly colored bluff\nwith a rapid motion, and at last shot beyond it, as with a flash, into\nseeming vacancy. I was sitting with my gaze directed toward the bluff,\nand when it instantly disappeared, I rubbed my eyes to convince myself\nof their truthfulness, and as I did so our boat came gradually to a\nstand on the edge of what appeared to be an unfathomable abyss. Beneath\nme on the side where had risen the bluff that disappeared so abruptly,\nas far as the eye could reach, was an absolute void. To our right, and\nbefore and behind us, stretched the surface of that great smooth lake on\nwhose bosom we rested. To our left, our boat brushing its rim, a narrow\nledge, a continuation of the black, glass-like material, reached only a\nfoot above the water, and beyond this narrow brink the mass descended\nperpendicularly to seemingly infinite depths. Involuntarily I grasped\nthe sides of the boat, and recoiled from the frightful chasm, over which\nI had been so suddenly suspended, and which exceeded anything of a\nsimilar description that I had ever seen. The immeasurable depth of the\nabyss, in connection with the apparently frail barrier that held the\ngreat lake in its bounds, caused me to shudder and shrink back, and my\nbrain reeled in dizzy fright. An inexplicable attraction, however,\nnotwithstanding my dread, held me spell-bound, and although I struggled\nto shut out that view, the endeavor failed. I seemed to be drawn by an\nirresistible power, and yet I shuddered at the awful majesty of that\nyawning gulf which threatened to end the world on which I then existed.\nFascinated, entranced, I could not help gazing, I knew not how long,\ndown, down into that fathomless, silent profundity. Composing myself, I\nturned a questioning glance on my guide.\n\nHe informed me that this hard, glass-like dam confined the waters of\nthe slowly rising lake that we were sailing over, and which finally\nwould rise high enough to overflow the barrier.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE WALL DESCENDED PERPENDICULARLY TO SEEMINGLY INFINITE\nDEPTHS.\"]\n\n\"The cycle of the periodic overflow is measured by great intervals,\" he\nsaid; \"centuries are required to raise the level of the lake a fraction\nof an inch, and thousands of years may elapse before its surface will\nagain reach the top of the adamantine wall. Then, governed by the law\nthat attracts a liquid to itself, and heaps the teaspoon with liquid,\nthe water of the quiet lake piles upon this narrow wall, forming a\nledge along its summit. Finally the superimposed surface water gives\nway, and a skim of water pours over into the abyss.\"\n\nHe paused; I leaned over and meditated, for I had now accustomed myself\nto the situation.\n\n\"There is no bottom,\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"Upon the contrary,\" he answered, \"the bottom is less than ten miles\nbeneath us, and is a great funnel-shaped orifice, the neck of the funnel\nreaching first down and then upward from us diagonally toward the\nsurface of the earth. Although the light by which we are enveloped is\nbright, yet it is deficient in penetrating power, and is not capable of\ngiving the contour of objects even five miles away, hence the chasm\nseems bottomless, and the gulf measureless.\"\n\n\"Is it not natural to suppose that a mass of water like this great lake\nwould overflow the barrier immediately, as soon as the surface reached\nthe upper edge, for the pressure of the immense volume must be beyond\ncalculation.\"\n\n\"No, for it is height, not expanse, which, as hydrostatic engineers\nunderstand, governs the pressure of water. A liquid column, one foot in\nwidth, would press against the retaining dam with the force of a body of\nthe same liquid, the same depth, one thousand miles in extent. Then the\ndecrease of gravity here permits the molecular attraction of the water's\nmolecules to exert itself more forcibly than would be the case on the\nsurface of the earth, and this holds the liquid mass together more\nfirmly.\"\n\n\"See,\" he observed, and dipping his finger into the water he held it\nbefore him with a drop of water attached thereto (Figure 27), the\nglobule being of considerable size, and lengthened as though it\nconsisted of some glutinous liquid.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 27.]\n\n\"How can a thin stratum of water give rise to a volcanic eruption?\" I\nnext queried. \"There seems to be no melted rock, no evidence of intense\nheat, either beneath or about us.\"\n\n\"I informed you some time ago that I would partially explain these\nfacts. Know then, that the theories of man concerning volcanic\neruptions, in connection with a molten interior of the earth, are such\nas are evolved in ignorance of even the sub-surface of the globe. The\nearth's interior is to mankind a sealed chamber, and the wise men who\nelucidate the curious theories concerning natural phenomena occurring\ntherein are forced to draw entirely upon their imagination. Few persons\nrealize the paucity of data at the command of workers in science.\nTheories concerning the earth are formulated from so little real\nknowledge of that body, that our science may be said to be all theory,\nwith scarcely a trace of actual evidence to support it. If a globe ten\ninches in diameter be covered with a sheet of paper, such as I hold in\nmy hand, the thickness of that sheet will be greater in proportion to\nthat of such a globe than the depth men have explored within the earth\nis compared with the thickness of the crust of the earth. The outer\nsurface of a pencil line represents the surface of the earth; the inner\nsurface of the line represents the depth of man's explorations; the\nhighest mountain would be represented by a comma resting on the line.\nThe geologist studies the substances that are thrust from the crater of\nan active volcano, and from this makes conjectures regarding the strata\nbeneath, and the force that casts the excretions out. The results must\nwith men, therefore, furnish evidence from which to explain the cause.\nIt is as though an anatomist would form his idea of the anatomy of the\nliver by the secretion thrown out of that organ, or of the lung texture\nby the breath and sputum. In fact, volcanoes are of several\ndescriptions, and usually are extremely superficial. This lake, the\nsurface of which is but one hundred and fifty miles underground, is the\nmother of an exceptionally deep one. When the water pours over this\nledge it strikes an element below us, the metallic base of salt, which\nlies in great masses in some portions of the earth's crust.[9] Then an\nimmediate chemical reaction ensues, the water is dissociated, intense\nheat results, part of the water combines with the metal, part is\nvaporized as steam, while part escapes as an inflammable gas. The sudden\nliberation of these gases causes an irregular pressure of vapor on the\nsurface of the lake, the result being a throbbing and rebounding of the\nattenuated atmosphere above, which, in gigantic waves, like swelling\ntides, dashes great volumes of water over the ledge beside us, and into\nthe depth below. This water in turn reacts on fresh portions of the\nmetallic base, and the reflex action increases the vapor discharges, and\nas a consequence the chamber we are in becomes a gasholder, containing\nvapors of unequal gas pressures, and the resultant agitation of the lake\nfrom the turmoil continues, and the pulsations are repeated until the\nsurface of the lake is lowered to such a degree as at last to prevent\nthe water from overflowing the barrier. Finally the lake quiets itself,\nthe gases slowly disappear by earth absorption, and by escape from the\nvolcanic exit, and for an unrecorded period of time thereafter the\nsurface of the lake continues to rise slowly as it is doing now.\"\n\n [9] This view is supported in theory by a note I believe to have\n somewhere seen recorded. Elsewhere other bases are mentioned\n also.--J. U. L.\n\n\"But what has this phenomenon to do with the volcano?\"\n\n\"It produces the eruption; the water that rushes down into the chasm,\npartly as steam, partly as gas, is forced onward and upward through a\ncrevice that leads to the old crater of the presumed extinct but\nperiodically active Mount Epomeo. These gases are intensely heated, and\nthey move with fearful velocity. They tear off great masses of stone,\nwhich the resultant energy disturbances, pressure, gas, and friction,\nredden with heat. The mixture of gases from the decomposed water is in\nlarge amount, is burning and exploding, and in this fiery furnace amid\nsuch convulsions as have been described, the adjacent earth substance is\nfused, and even clay is melted, and carried on with the fiery blast.\nFinally the current reaches the earth's surface through the funnel\npassage, the apex of which is a volcano--the blast described a volcanic\neruption.\"\n\n\"One thing is still obscure in my mind,\" I said. \"You assert that the\nreaction which follows the contact of the flowing water and metallic\nbases in the crevice below us liberates the explosive gases, and also\nvolumes of vapor of water. These gases rush, you say, and produce a\nvolcanic eruption in a distant part of the crust of the earth. I can not\nunderstand why they do not rush backward as well, and produce another\neruption in Kentucky. Surely the pressure of a gas in confinement is the\nsame in all directions, is it not?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied, \"but the conditions in the different directions are\ndissimilar. In the direction of the Kentucky cavern, the passage is\ntortuous, and often contracts to a narrow crevice. In one place near the\ncavern's mouth, as you will remember, we had to dive beneath the surface\nof a stream of water. That stratum of water as effectually closed the\nexit from the earth as the stopper prevents water escaping from a\nbottle. Between the point we now occupy and that water stopper, rest\nthousands of miles of quiescent air. The inertia of a thousand miles of\nair is great beyond your comprehension. To move that column of air by\npushing against this end of it, and thus shoving it instantly out of the\nother end, would require greater force than would burst the one hundred\nand fifty miles of inelastic stone above us. Then, the friction of the\nsides is another thing that prevents its accomplishment. While a\ngradually applied pressure would in time overcome both the inertia of\nthe air and the friction of the stone passages, it would take a supply\nof energy greater than you can imagine to start into motion the elastic\nmass that stands as solid and immovable as a sentinel of adamant,\nbetween the cavern you entered, and the spot we now occupy. Time and\nenergy combined would be able to accomplish the result, but not under\npresent conditions.\n\n\"In the other direction a broad open channel reaches directly to and\nconnects with the volcanic shaft. Through this channel the air is in\nmotion, moving towards the extinct crater, being supplied from another\nsurface orifice. The gases liberated in the manner I have described,\nnaturally follow the line of least resistance. They turn at once away\nfrom the inert mass of air that rests behind us, and move with\nincreasing velocity towards the volcanic exit. Before the pressure that\nmight be exerted towards the Kentucky cavern would have more than\ncompressed the intervening column of air enough to raise the water of a\nwell from its usual level to the surface of the earth, the velocity in\nthe other direction would have augmented prodigiously, and with its\nincreased rapidity a suction would follow more than sufficient to\nconsume the increasingly abundant gases from behind.\"\n\n\"Volcanoes are therefore local, and the interior of the earth is not a\nmolten mass as I have been taught,\" I exclaimed.\n\nHe answered: \"If men were far enough along in their thought journey (for\nthe evolution of the mental side of man is a journey in the world of\nthought), they would avoid such theories as that which ascribes a\nmolten interior to the earth. Volcanoes are superficial. They are as a\nrule, when in activity but little blisters or excoriations upon the\nsurface of the earth, although their underground connections may be\nextensive. Some of them are in a continual fret with frequent eruptions,\nothers, like the one under consideration, awaken only after great\nperiods of time. The entire surface of this globe has been or will be\nsubject to volcanic action. The phenomenon is one of the steps in the\nworld-making, matter-leveling process. When the deposit of substances\nthat I have indicated, and of which much of the earth's interior is\ncomposed, the bases of salt, potash, and lime and clay is exhausted,\nthere will be no further volcanic action from this cause, and in some\nplaces, this deposit has already disappeared, or is covered deeply by\nlayers of earth that serve as a protection.\"\n\n\"Is water, then, the universal cause of volcanoes?\"\n\n\"Water and air together cause most of them. The action of water and its\nvapor produces from metallic space dust, limestone, and clay soil,\npotash and soda salts. This perfectly rational and natural action must\ncontinue as long as there is water above, and free elementary bases in\ncontact with the earth bubbles. Volcanoes, earthquakes, geysers, mud\nsprings, and hot springs, are the natural result of that reaction.\nMountains are thereby forming by upheavals from beneath, and the\ncorresponding surface valleys are consequently filling up, either by the\nslow deposit of the matter from the saline water of hot springs, or by\nthe sudden eruption of a new or presumably extinct volcano.\"\n\n\"What would happen if a crevice in the bottom of the ocean should\nconduct the waters of the ocean into a deposit of metallic bases?\"\n\n\"That often occurs,\" was the reply; \"a volcanic wave results, and a\nvolcano may thus rise from the ocean's depths.\"\n\n\"Is there any danger to the earth itself? May it not be riven into\nfragments from such a convulsion?\" I hesitatingly questioned.\n\n\"No; while the configuration of continents is continually being altered,\neach disturbance must be practically superficial, and of limited area.\"\n\n\"But,\" I persisted, \"the rigid, solid earth may be blown to fragments;\nin such convulsions a result like that seems not impossible.\"\n\n\"You argue from an erroneous hypothesis. The earth is neither rigid nor\nsolid.\"\n\n\"True,\" I answered. \"If it were solid I could not be a hundred miles\nbeneath its surface in conversation with another being; but there can\nnot be many such cavities as that which we are now traversing, and they\ncan not surely extend entirely through its mass; the great weight of the\nsuperincumbent material would crush together the strongest materials, if\na globe as large as our earth were extensively honeycombed in this\nmanner.\"\n\n\"Quite the contrary,\" he replied; \"and here let me, for the first time,\nenlighten you as to the interior structure of the terrestrial globe. The\nearth-forming principle consists of an invisible sphere of energy that,\nspinning through space, supports the space dust which collects on it, as\ndust on a bubble. By gradual accumulation of substance on that sphere a\nhollow ball has resulted, on the outer surface of which you have\nhitherto dwelt. The crust of the earth is comparatively thin, not more\nthan eight hundred miles in average thickness, and is held in position\nby the central sphere of energy that now exists at a distance about\nseven hundred miles beneath the ocean level. The force inherent to this\nsphere manifests itself upon the matter which it supports on both sides,\nrendering matter the lighter the nearer it lies to the center sphere. In\nother words, let me say to you: The crust, or shell, which I have just\ndescribed as being but about eight hundred miles in thickness, is firm\nand solid on both its convex and concave surface, but gradually loses in\nweight, whether we penetrate from the outer surface toward the center,\nor from any point of the inner surface towards the outside, until at the\ncentral sphere matter has no weight at all. Do you conceive my meaning?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied; \"I understand you perfectly.\"\n\nAfter a pause my pilot asked me abruptly:\n\n\"What do you most desire?\"\n\nThe question caused my mind to revert instantly to my old home on the\nearth above me, and although I felt the hope of returning to it spring\nup in my heart, the force of habit caused me involuntarily to answer,\n\"More light!\"\n\n\"More light being your desire, you shall receive it.\"\n\nObedient to his touch, the bow of the boat turned from the gulf we had\nbeen considering towards the center of the lake; the responsive craft\nleaped forward, and in an instant the obsidian parapet disappeared\nbehind us. On and over the trackless waste of glass-like water we sped,\nuntil the dead silence became painfully oppressive, and I asked:\n\n\"Whither are we bound?\"\n\n\"Towards the east.\"\n\nThe well-timed answer raised my spirits; I thought again that in this\nman, despite his repulsive shape, I beheld a friend, a brother;\nsuspicion vanished, and my courage rose. He touched the lever, and the\ncraft, subject to his will, nearly rose from the water, and sped with\namazing velocity, as was evident from the appearance of the luminous\nroad behind us. So rapid was our flight that the wake of the boat seemed\nas if made of rigid parallel lines that disappeared in the distance, too\nquick for the eye to catch the tremor.\n\nContinuing his conversation, my companion informed me that he had now\ndirected the bark toward a point east of the spot where we struck the\nshore, after crossing the lake, in order that we might continue our\njourney downward, diagonally to the under surface of the earth crust.\n\n\"This recent digression from our journey proper,\" said he, \"has been\nmade to acquaint you with a subject, regarding which you have exhibited\na curiosity, and about which you have heretofore been misinformed; now\nyou understand more clearly part of the philosophy of volcanoes and\nearthquakes. You have yet much to learn in connection with allied\nphenomena, but this study of the crude exhibition of force-disturbed\nmatter, the manipulation of which is familiar to man under the above\nnames, is an introduction to the more wonderful study destined yet to be\na part of your field, an investigation of quiescent matter, and pure\nmotion.\"\n\n\"I can not comprehend you,\" I replied, \"as I stated once before when you\nreferred to what you designated as pure motion.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII.\n\n MATTER IS RETARDED MOTION.\n\n\n\"It is possible--is it not?--for you to imagine a continuous volley of\niron balls passing near you in one line, in a horizontal direction, with\nconsiderable velocity. Suppose that a pane of glass were to be gradually\nmoved so that a corner of it would be struck by one of the balls; then\nthe entire sheet of glass would be shivered by the concussion, even\nthough the bullet struck but a single spot of glass, the point of\ncontact covering only a small area. Imagine now that the velocity of the\nvolley of bullets be increased a thousand fold; then a plate of glass\nthrust into their track would be smoothly cut, as though with a file\nthat would gnaw its way without producing a single radiating fracture. A\nperson standing near the volley would now hear a deep purr or growling\nsound, caused by the friction between the bullets and the air. Increase\ngradually the rapidity of their motion, and this growl would become more\nacute, passing from a deep, low murmur, into one less grave, and as the\nvelocity increased, the tone would become sharper, and at last\npiercingly shrill. Increase now the rapidity of the train of bullets\nagain, and again the notes would decrease in turn, passing back again\nsuccessively through the several keys that had preceded, and finally\nwould reach the low growl which first struck the ear, and with a further\nincrease of speed silence would ensue, silence evermore, regardless of\nincreasing velocity.[10] From these hundreds of miles in a second at\nwhich the volley is now passing, let the rapidity be augmented a\nthousand times, reaching in their flight into millions of miles each\nsecond, and to the eye, from the point where the sound disappeared, as\nthe velocity increased, a dim redness would appear, a glow just\nperceptible, indicating to the sense of sight, by a continuous line,\nthe track of the moving missiles. To all appearance, the line would be\nas uniform as an illuminated pencil mark, even though the several\nintegral bullets of the trail might be separated one from another by\nmiles of space. Let a pane of glass now be thrust across their track,\nand from the point of contact a shower of sparks would fly, and the\nedges of glass close to either side of the orifice would be shown, on\nwithdrawing the glass, to have been fused. Conceive now that the\nvelocity of the bullets be doubled and trebled, again and again, the\nline of red light becomes brighter, then brilliant, and finally as the\nvelocity increases, at a certain point pure white results, and to man's\nsense the trail would now be a continuous something, as solid as a bar\nof metal if at a white heat, and (even if the bullets were a thousand\nmiles apart) man could not bring proof of their separate existence to\nhis senses. That portion of a pane of glass or other substance, even\nsteel or adamant, which should cross its track now would simply melt\naway, the portion excised and carried out of that pathway neither\nshowing itself as scintillations, nor as fragments of matter. The solid\nwould instantly liquefy, and would spread itself as a thin film over the\nsurface of each ball of that white, hot mass of fleeing metal, now to\nall essential conditions as uniform as a bar of iron. Madly increase the\nvelocity to millions upon millions of miles per second, and the heat\nwill disappear gradually as did the sound, while the bright light will\npass backward successively through the primary shades of color that are\nnow known to man, beginning with violet, and ending with red, and as the\nred fades away the train of bullets will disappear to the sense of man.\nNeither light nor sound now accompanies the volley, neither the human\neye nor the human ear can perceive its presence. Drop a pane of glass or\nany other object edgewise through it, and it gives to the sense of man\nno evidence; the molecules of the glass separate from in front to close\nin from behind, and the moving train passes through it as freely as\nlight, leaving the surface of the glass unaffected.\"\n\n [10] A scientific critic seems to think that the shrill cry would\n cease instantly and not gradually. However, science has been at\n fault more than once, and I do not care to take liberties with\n this statement.--J. U. L.\n\n\"Hold,\" I interrupted; \"that would be as one quality of matter passing\nthrough another quality of matter without disturbance to either, and it\nis a law in physics that two substances can not occupy the same space at\nthe same time.\"\n\n\"That law holds good as man understands the subject, but bullets are no\nlonger matter. Motion of mass was first changed into motion of\nmolecules, and motion of molecule became finally augmented into motion\nof free force entities as the bullets disintegrated into molecular\ncorpuscles, and then were dissociated, atoms resulting. At this last\npoint the sense of vision, and of touch, ceased to be affected by that\nmoving column (neither matter nor force), and at the next jump in\nvelocity the atoms themselves disappeared, and free intangible motion\nresulted--nothing, vacancy.\n\n\"This result is the all-pervading spirit of space (the ether of\nmankind), as solid as adamant and as mobile as vacuity. If you can\nreverse the order of this phenomenon, and imagine an irregular\nretardation of the rapidity of such atomic motion, you can read the\nstory of the formation of the material universe. Follow the chain\nbackward, and with the decrease of velocity, motion becomes tangible\nmatter again, and in accordance with conditions governing the change of\nmotion into matter, from time to time the various elements successively\nappear. The planets may grow without and within, and ethereal space can\ngenerate elemental dirt. If you can conceive of an intermediate\ncondition whereby pure space motion becomes partly tangible, and yet is\nnot gross enough to be earthy matter, you can imagine how such forces as\nman is acquainted with, light, heat, electricity, magnetism, or gravity\neven are produced, for these are also disturbances in space motion. It\nshould be easily understood that, according to the same simple\nprinciple, other elements and unknown forces as well, now imperceptible\nto man's limited faculties, could be and are formed outside and inside\nhis field of perception.\"\n\n\"I fear that I can not comprehend all this,\" I answered.\n\n\"So I feared, and perhaps I have given you this lesson too soon,\nalthough some time ago you asked me to teach you concerning the\nassertion that electricity, light, heat, magnetism, and gravity are\ndisturbances, and you said, 'Disturbances of what?' Think the lesson\nover, and you will perceive that it is easy. Let us hope that the time\nwill come when we will be able to glance beneath the rough, material,\nearth surface knowledge that man has acquired, and experience the mind\nexpansion that leads to the blissful insight possessed by superior\nbeings who do not have to contend with the rasping elements that\nencompass all who dwell upon the surface of the earth.\"\n\nI pondered over these words, and a vague light, an undefined,\ninexpressible something that I could not put into words broke into my\nmind; I inferred that we were destined to meet with persons, or\nexistences, possessed of new senses, of a mind development that man had\nnot reached, and I was on the point of questioning my pilot when the\nmotion of the boat was suspended, land appeared ahead, we drew up to it,\nand disembarked. Lifting the boat from the water my guide placed it on\nland at the edge of the motionless lake, and we resumed our journey. The\nscenery seemed but little changed from that of the latter part of our\nprevious line of travel down the inclined plane of the opposite side of\nthe lake that we had crossed. The direction was still downward after\nleaving the high ridge that bordered the edge of the lake, the floor of\nthe cavern being usually smooth, although occasionally it was rough and\ncovered with stony debris. The mysterious light grew perceptibly\nbrighter as we progressed, the fog-like halo previously mentioned became\nless dense, and the ring of obscurity widened rapidly. I could\ndistinctly perceive objects at a great distance. I turned to my\ncompanion to ask why this was, and he replied:\n\n\"Because we are leaving one of the undiscovered conditions of the upper\natmosphere that disturbs the sunlight.\"\n\n\"Do you say that the atmosphere is composed of substances unknown to\nman?\"\n\n\"Yes; several of them are gases, and others are qualities of space\ncondition, neither gas, liquid, nor solid.[11] One particularly\ninterferes with light in its passage. It is an entity that is not moved\nby the motion of the air, and is unequally distributed over the earth's\nsurface. As we ascend above the earth it decreases, so it does as we\ndescend into it. It is not vapor of water, is neither smoke, nor a true\ngas, and is as yet sensible to man only by its power of modifying the\nintensity of light. It has no color, is chemically inactive, and yet\nmodifies the sun's rays so as to blot objects from view at a\ncomparatively small distance from a person on the face of the earth.\nThat this fact is known to man is evident from the knowledge he\npossesses of the difference in the power of his organs of vision at\ndifferent parts of the earth. His sight is especially acute on the table\nlands of the Western Territories.\"\n\n [11] This has since been partly supported by the discovery of the\n element Argon. However, the statement has been recorded many\n years. Miss Ella Burbige, stenographer, Newport, Ky., copied the\n original in 1887; Mr. S. D. Rouse, attorney, Covington, Ky., read\n it in 1889; Mr. Russell Errett, editor of the Christian Standard,\n in 1890, and Mr. H. C. Meader, President of the American Ticket\n Brokers' Association, in 1892. It seems proper to make this\n explanation in order to absolve the author from any charge of\n plagiarism, for each of these persons will recall distinctly this\n improbable [then] assertion.--J. U. L.\n\n\"I have been told,\" I answered, \"that vapor of water causes this\nobscuration, or absorption, of light.\"\n\n\"Vapor of water, unless in strata of different densities, is absolutely\ntransparent, and presents no obstacle to the passage of light,\" he said.\n\"When vapor obstructs light it is owing to impurities contained in it,\nto currents of varying densities, or wave motions, or to a mechanical\nmixture of condensed water and air, whereby multitudes of tiny globular\nwater surfaces are produced. Pure vapor of water, free from motion, is\npassive to the sunlight.\"\n\n\"I can scarcely believe that a substance such as you describe, or that\nany constituent of the air, can have escaped the perception of the\nchemist,\" I replied.\n\nIn, as I thought, a facetious manner he repeated after me the word\n\"chemist,\" and continued:\n\n\"Have chemists detected the ether of Aristotle, that you have mentioned,\nand I have defined, which scientists nevertheless accept pervades all\nspace and every description of matter, and that I have told you is\nreally matter itself changed into ultra atomic motion? Have chemists\nexplained why one object is transparent, and another of equal weight and\nsolidity is opaque? Have chemists told you why vermillion is red and\nindigo is blue (the statement that they respectively reflect these rays\nof light is not an explanation of the cause for such action)? Have\nchemists told you why the prism disarranges or distorts sunlight to\nproduce the abnormal hues that men assume compose elementary rays of\nlight? Have chemists explained anything concerning the why or wherefore\nof the attributes of matter, or force, or even proven that the so-called\nprimary forms of matter, or elements, are not compounds? Upon the\ncontrary, does not the evolution that results in the recorded\ndiscoveries of the chemist foretell, or at least indicate, the possible\nfuture of the art, and promise that surrounding mysteries are yet to be\ndeveloped and expanded into open truths, thus elaborating hidden forces;\nand that other forms of matter and unseen force expressions, are\ndestined to spring into existence as the sciences progress? The chemist\nof to-day is groping in darkness; he is a novice as compared with the\nelaborated chemist of the near future; the imperfectly seen of the\npresent, the silent and unsuspected, will become distinctly visible in a\ntime that is to come, and a brightening of the intellect by these\nsuccessively upward steps, up stairs of science, will, if science serves\nherself best, broaden the mind and give power to the imagination,\nresulting finally in--\"\n\nHe hesitated.\n\n\"Go on,\" I said.\n\n\"The passage of mortal man, with the faculties of man intact, into\ncommunion with the spirit world.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII.\n\n \"A STUDY OF SCIENCE IS A STUDY OF GOD.\"--COMMUNING WITH ANGELS.\n\n\n\"This is incredible,\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"You need not be astonished,\" he answered. \"Is there any argument that\ncan be offered to controvert the assertion that man is ignorant of many\nnatural laws?\"\n\n\"I can offer none.\"\n\n\"Is there any doubt that a force, distinct and separate from matter,\ninfluences matter and vivifies it into a living personality?\"\n\n\"I do not deny that there is such force.\"\n\n\"What then should prevent this force from existing separate from the\nbody if it be capable of existing in it?\"\n\n\"I can not argue against such a position.\"\n\n\"If, as is hoped and believed by the majority of mankind, even though\nsome try to deny the fact, it is possible for man to exist as an\nassociation of earth matters, linked to a personal spirit force, the\nsoul, and for the spirit force, after the death of the body, to exist\nindependent of the grosser attributes of man, free from his mortal body,\nis it not reasonable to infer that the spirit, while it is still in man\nand linked to his body, may be educated and developed so as, under\nfavorable conditions, to meet and communicate with other spirits that\nhave been previously liberated from earthly bondage?\"\n\n\"I submit,\" I answered; \"but you shock my sensibilities when you thus\nimply that by cold, scientific investigation we can place ourselves in a\nposition to meet the unseen spirit world--\"\n\nIt was now my turn to hesitate.\n\n\"Go on,\" he said.\n\n\"To commune with the angels,\" I answered.\n\n\"A study of true science is a study of God,\" he continued. \"Angels are\norganizations natural in accordance with God's laws. They appear\nsuperhuman, because of our ignorance concerning the higher natural\nforces. They exist in exact accordance with the laws that govern the\nuniverse; but as yet the attraction between clay and clay-bound spirit\nis so great as to prevent the enthralled soul of man from communicating\nwith them. The faith of the religionist is an example of the\nunquenchable feeling that creates a belief as well as a hope that there\nis a self-existence separate from earthy substances. The scoffing\nscientific agnostic, working for other objects, will yet astonish\nhimself by elaborating a method that will practically demonstrate these\nfacts, and then empirical religion, as exemplified by the unquestioning\nfaithful believer, and systematic science, as typified in the\nexperimental materialist, will meet on common ground.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV.\n\n I CEASE TO BREATHE, AND YET LIVE.\n\n\nDuring this conversation we had been rapidly walking, or I should better\nsay advancing, for we no longer walked as men do, but skipped down into\nthe earth, down, ever downward. There were long periods of silence, in\nwhich I was engaged in meditating over the problems that successively\ndemanded solution, and even had I desired to do so I could have kept no\nrecord of time; days, or even weeks, may have been consumed in this\njourney. Neither have I any method of judging of the rapidity of our\nmotion. I was sensible of a marked decrease in the amount of muscular\nenergy required to carry us onward, and I realized that my body was\nquite exempt from weariness. Motion became restful instead of\nexhausting, and it seemed to me that the ratio of the loss of weight, as\nshown by our free movements, in proportion to the distance we traversed,\nwas greater than formerly. The slightest exhibition of propelling force\ncast us rapidly forward. Instead of the laborious, short step of upper\nearth, a single leap would carry us many yards. A slight spring, and\nwith our bodies in space, we would skip several rods, alighting gently,\nto move again as easily. I marveled, for, although I had been led to\nanticipate something unusual, the practical evidence was wonderfully\nimpressive, and I again questioned my guide.\n\n\"We are now nearing what physicists would call the center of gravity,\"\nhe replied, \"and our weight is rapidly diminishing. This is in exact\naccordance with the laws that govern the force called gravitation,\nwhich, at the earth's surface, is apparently uniform, though no\ninstrument known to man can demonstrate its exact variation within the\nfield man occupies. Men have not, as yet, been in a position to estimate\nthis change, although it is known that mountains attract objects, and\nthat a change in weight as we descend into the earth is perceptible; but\nto evolve the true law, observation, at a distance of at least ten\nmiles beneath the surface of the ocean is necessary, and man, being a\ncreature whose motions are confined to a thin, horizontal skin of earth,\nhas never been one mile beneath its surface, and in consequence his\nopportunities for comparison are extremely limited.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WE WOULD SKIP SEVERAL RODS, ALIGHTING GENTLY.\"]\n\n\"I have been taught,\" I replied, \"that the force of gravitation\ndecreases until the center of the earth is reached, at which point a\nbody is without weight; and I can scarcely understand how such positive\nstatements from scientific men can be far from the truth.\"\n\n\"It is supposed by your surface men that the maximum of weight is to be\nfound at one-sixth the distance beneath the surface of the earth, and\ntherefrom decreases until at the center it is nothing at all,\" he\nreplied. \"This hypothesis, though a stagger toward the right, is far\nfrom the truth, but as near as could be expected, when we consider the\ndata upon which men base their calculations. Were it not for the purpose\nof controverting erroneous views, men would have little incentive to\ncontinue their investigations, and as has been the rule in science\nheretofore, the truth will, in time, appear in this case. One generation\nof students disproves the accepted theories of that which precedes, all\nworking to eliminate error, all adding factors of error, and all\ntogether moving toward a common goal, a grand generalization, that as\nyet can not be perceived. And still each series of workers is\noverlooking phenomena that, though obvious, are yet unperceived, but\nwhich will make evident to future scientists the mistakes of the\npresent. As an example of the manner in which facts are thus overlooked,\nin your journey you have been impressed with certain surprising external\nconditions, or surroundings, and yet are oblivious to conditions more\nremarkable in your own body. So it is with scientists. They overlook\nprominent facts that stare them boldly in the face, facts that are so\nconspicuous as to be invisible by reason of their very nearness.\"\n\n\"This statement I can not disprove, and therefore must admit under\nprotest. Where there is so much that appears mysterious I may have\noverlooked some things, but I can scarcely accept that, in ignorance, I\nhave passed conditions in my own organization so marked as this decrease\nin gravity which has so strikingly been called to my attention.\"\n\n\"You have, and to convince you I need only say that you have nearly\nceased to breathe, and are unconscious of the fact.\"\n\nI stopped short, in momentary alarm, and now that my mind was directed\nto the fact, I became aware that I did not desire to breathe, and that\nmy chest had ceased to heave with the alternate inhalation and\nexhalation of former times. I closed my lips firmly, and for a long\nperiod there was no desire for breath, then a slight involuntary\ninhalation followed, and an exhalation, scarcely noticeable, succeeded\nby a great interval of inaction. I impulsively turned my face toward the\npassage we had trod; a feeling of alarm possessed me, an uncontrollable,\ninexpressible desire to flee from the mysterious earth-being beside me,\nto return to men, and be an earth-surface man again, and I started\nbackward through the chamber we had passed.\n\nThe guide seized me by the hand, \"Hold, hold,\" he cried; \"where would\nyou go, fickle mortal?\"\n\n\"To the surface,\" I shouted; \"to daylight again. Unhand me, unearthly\ncreature, abnormal being, man or devil; have you not inveigled me far\nenough into occult realms that should be forever sealed from mankind?\nHave you not taken from me all that men love or cherish, and undone\nevery tie of kith or kin? Have you not led me into paths that the\nimagination of the novelist dare not conjure, and into experiences that\npen in human hand would not venture to describe as possible, until I now\nstand with my feet on the boundary line that borders vacancy, and utter\nloss of weight; with a body nearly lost as a material substance, verging\ninto nothing, and lastly with breath practically extinguished, I say,\nand repeat, is it not time that I should hesitate and pause in my\nreckless career?\"\n\n\"It is not time,\" he answered.\n\n\"When will that hour come?\" I asked in desperation, and I trembled as he\nreplied:\n\n\"When the three Great Lights are closed.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"AN UNCONTROLLABLE, INEXPRESSIBLE DESIRE TO FLEE.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV.\n\n \"A CERTAIN POINT WITHIN A SPHERE.\"--MEN ARE AS PARASITES ON THE\n ROOF OF EARTH.\n\n\nI realized again, as I had so many times before, that it was useless for\nme to rebel. \"The self-imposed mystery of a sacrificed life lies before\nme,\" I murmured, \"and there is no chance to retrace my footsteps. The\n'Beyond' of the course that I have voluntarily selected, and sworn to\nfollow, is hidden; I must nerve myself to pursue it to the bitter end,\nand so help me God, and keep me steadfast.\"\n\n\"Well said,\" he replied; \"and since you have so wisely determined, I am\nfree to inform you that these new obligations, like those you have\nheretofore taken, contain nothing which can conflict with your duty to\nGod, your country, your neighbor, or yourself. In considering the\nphenomena presented by the suspension of the act of breathing, it should\noccur to you that where little labor is to be performed, little\nconsumption of energy is required. Where there is such a trifling\ndestruction of the vital force (not mind force) as at present is the\ncase with us, it requires but slight respiration to retain the normal\ncondition of the body. On earth's surface the act of respiration alone\nconsumes by far the larger proportion of vital energy, and the muscular\nexertion involved thereby necessitates a proportionate amount of\nbreathing in order that breath itself may continue. This act of\nrespiration is the result of one of the conditions of surface earth\nlife, and consumes most of the vital force. If men would think of this,\nthey would understand how paradoxical it is for them to breathe in order\nto live, when the very act of respiration wears away their bodies and\nshortens their lives more than all else they have to do, and without\nadding to their mental or physical constitution in the least. Men are\nconversant with physical death as a constant result of suspended\nrespiration, and with respiration as an accompaniment of life, which\never constant and connected conditions lead them to accept that the act\nof breathing is a necessity of mortal life. In reality, man occupies an\nunfortunate position among other undeveloped creatures of external\nearth; he is an animal, and is constitutionally framed like the other\nanimals about him. He is exposed to the warring elements, to the vicious\nattacks of savage beasts and insidious parasites, and to the inroads of\ndisease. He is a prey to the elementary vicissitudes of the undesirable\nexposure in which he exists upon the outer surface of our globe, where\nall is war, even among the forces of nature about him. These conditions\nrender his lot an unhappy one indeed, and in ignorance he overlooks the\ntorments of the weary, rasping, endless slavery of respiration in the\npersonal struggle he has to undergo in order to retain a brief existence\nas an organized being. Have you never thought of the connected\ntribulations that the wear and tear of respiration alone inflict upon\nthe human family? The heaving of the chest, the circulation of the\nblood, the throbbing of the heart, continue from mortal birth until\ndeath. The heart of man forces about two and one-half ounces of blood\nwith each pulsation. At seventy beats per minute this amounts to six\nhundred and fifty-six pounds per hour, or nearly eight tons per day. The\nlungs respire over one thousand times an hour, and move over three\nthousand gallons of air a day. Multiply these amounts by three hundred\nand sixty-five, and then by seventy, and you have partly computed the\nenormous life-work of the lungs and heart of an adult. Over two hundred\nthousand tons of blood, and seventy-five million gallons of air have\nbeen moved by the vital force. The energy thus consumed is dissipated.\nNo return is made for the expenditure of this life force. During the\nnatural life of man, more energy is consequently wasted in material\ntransformation resulting from the motion of heart and lungs, than would\nbe necessary to sustain the purely vital forces alone for a thousand\nyears. Besides, the act of respiration which man is compelled to perform\nin his exposed position, necessitates the consumption of large amounts\nof food, in order to preserve the animal heat, and replace the waste of\na material body that in turn is worn out by these very movements. Add\nthis waste of energy to the foregoing, and then you will surely perceive\nthat the possible life of man is also curtailed to another and greater\ndegree in the support of the digestive part of his organism. His spirit\nis a slave to his body; his lungs and heart, on which he imagines life\ndepends, are unceasing antagonists of life. That his act of breathing is\nnow a necessity upon the surface of the earth, where the force of\ngravity presses so heavily, and where the elements have men at their\ncommand, and show him no mercy, I will not deny; but it is exasperating\nto contemplate such a waste of energy, and corresponding loss of human\nlife.\"\n\n\"You must admit, however, that it is necessary?\" I queried.\n\n\"No; only to an extent. The natural life of man should, and yet will be,\ndoubled, trebled, multiplied a dozen, yes a thousand fold.\"\n\nI stepped in front of him; we stood facing each other.\n\n\"Tell me,\" I cried, \"how men can so improve their condition as to\nlengthen their days to the limit you name, and let me return to surface\nearth a carrier of the glad tidings.\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\nI dropped on my knees before him.\n\n[Illustration: \"I DROPPED ON MY KNEES BEFORE HIM.\"]\n\n\"I implore you in behalf of that unfortunate humanity, of which I am a\nmember, give me this boon. I promise to return to you and do your\nbidding. Whatever may be my subsequent fate, I promise to acquiesce\ntherein willingly.\"\n\nHe raised me to my feet.\n\n\"Be of good cheer,\" he said, \"and in the proper time you may return to\nthe surface of this rind of earth, a carrier of great and good news to\nmen.\"\n\n\"Shall I teach them of what you have shown me?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes; in part you will be a forerunner, but before you obtain the\ninformation that is necessary to the comfort of mankind you will have\nto visit surface earth again, and return again, perhaps repeatedly. You\nmust prove yourself as men are seldom proven. The journey you have\ncommenced is far from its conclusion, and you may not be equal to its\nsubsequent trials; prepare yourself, therefore, for a series of events\nthat may unnerve you. If you had full confidence and faith in your\nguide, you would have less cause to fear the result, but your suspicious\nhuman nature can not overcome the shrinking sensation that is natural to\nthose who have been educated as you have been amid the changing\nvicissitudes of the earth's surface, and you can not but be incredulous\nby reason of that education.\"\n\nThen I stopped as I observed before me a peculiar fungus--peculiar\nbecause unlike all others I had seen. The convex part of its bowl was\nbelow, and the great head, as an inverted toadstool, stood upright on a\nshort, stem-like pedestal. The gills within were of a deep green color,\nand curved out from the center in the form of a spiral. This form,\nhowever, was not the distinguishing feature, for I had before observed\nspecimens that were spiral in structure. The extraordinary peculiarity\nwas that the gills were covered with fruit. This fruit was likewise\ngreen in color, each spore, or berry, being from two to three inches in\ndiameter, and honeycombed on the surface, corrugated most beautifully. I\nstopped, leaned over the edge of the great bowl, and plucked a specimen\nof the fruit. It seemed to be covered with a hard, transparent shell,\nand to be nearly full of a clear, green liquid. I handled and examined\nit in curiosity, at which my guide seemed not to be surprised. Regarding\nme attentively, he said:\n\n\"What is it that impels a mortal towards this fruit?\"\n\n\"It is curious,\" I said; \"nothing more.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said he, \"it is not curious at all; the seed of the\nlobelia of upper earth is more curious, because, while it is as\nexquisitely corrugated, it is also microscopically small. In the second\nplace you err when you say it is simply curious, 'nothing more,' for no\nmortal ever yet passed that bowl without doing exactly as you have done.\nThe vein of curiosity, were it that alone that impels you, could not but\nhave an exception.\"\n\nThen he cracked the shell of the fruit by striking it on the stony\nfloor, and carefully opened the shell, handing me one of the halves\nfilled with a green fluid. As he did so he spoke the single word,\n\"Drink,\" and I did as directed. He stood upright before me, and as I\nlooked him in the face he seemingly, without a reason, struck off into a\ndissertation, apparently as distinct from our line of thought as a\ndisconnected subject could be, as follows:\n\n[Illustration: \"HANDING ME ONE OF THE HALVES, HE SPOKE THE SINGLE\nWORD, DRINK.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI.\n\n DRUNKENNESS.--THE DRINKS OF MAN.\n\n\n\"Intemperance has been the vice of every people, and is prevalent in all\nclimes, notwithstanding that intoxicants, properly employed, may serve\nhumanity's highest aims. Beginning early in the history of a people, the\ndisease increases with the growth of a nation, until, at last, unless\nthe knife is used, civilization perishes. A lowly people becomes more\ndepraved as the use of liquor increases; a cultivated people passes\nbackward into barbarism with the depravities that come from dissipation.\nHere nations meet, and individuals sink to a common level. No drinking\nman is strong enough to say, 'I can not become dissipated;' no nation is\nrich and cultivated enough to view the debauch of its people without\nalarm.\n\n\"The disgusting habit of the drunken African finds its counterpart in\nthe lascivious wine-bibber of aristocratic society. To picture the\nindecencies of society, that may be charged to debauchery, when the\nGrecian and Roman empires were at the height of greatness, would obscure\nthe orgies of the barbarous African, and make preferable the brutality\nof the drunken American Indian. Intemperance brings men to the lowest\nlevel, and holds its power over all lands and all nations.\"\n\n\"Did the aborigines know how to make intoxicants, and were barbarians\nintemperate before contact with civilized nations?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"But I have understood that drunkenness is a vice inherent only in\ncivilized people; are not you mistaken?\"\n\n\"No. Every clime, unless it be the far North where men are scarcely more\nthan animals, furnishes intoxicants, and all people use them. I will\ntell you part of this record of nations.\n\n\"The Nubians make a barley beer which they call bouze, and also a wine,\nfrom the palm tree. The savages of Africa draw the clear, sweet juice of\nthe palm oil tree into a gourd, in the morning, and by night it becomes\na violent intoxicant. The natives of the Malayan Archipelago ferment and\ndrink the sap of the flower stems of the cocoanut. The Tartar tribes\nmake an intoxicating drink from mare's milk, called koomis. In South\nAmerica the natives drink a vile compound, called cana, distilled from\nsugar cane; and in the Sandwich Islands, the shrub kava supplies the\nintoxicant kava-kava, drunk by all the inhabitants, from king to slave,\nand mother to child. In the heart of Africa, cannibal tribes make legyce\nof a cereal, and indulge in wild orgies over their barbaric cup. In\nNorth America the Indians, before Columbus discovered America, made an\nintoxicating drink of the sap of the maple tree. The national drink of\nthe Mexicans is pulque, a beastly intoxicant, prepared from the Agave\nAmericana. Mead is an alcoholic drink, made of honey, and used in many\ncountries. In China wine was indulged in from the earliest day, and in\nformer times, had it not been for the influence of their philosophers,\nespecially Confucius, who foresaw the end, the Chinese nation would have\nperished from drunkenness. Opium, that fearful enslaver of millions of\nhuman beings, is in every sense a narcotic intoxicant, and stands\nconspicuous as an agent, capable of being either a friend, a companion,\nor a master, as man permits. History fails to indicate the date of its\nintroduction to humanity. In South America the leaf of the cocoa plant\nis a stimulant scarcely less to be dreaded than opium. The juice of a\nspecies of asclepias produces the intoxicant soma, used once by the\nBrahmins, not only as a drink, but also in sacrificial and religious\nceremonies. Many different flavored liquors made of palm, cocoanuts,\nsugar, pepper, honey, spices, etc., were used by native Hindoos, and as\nintoxicants have been employed from the earliest days in India. The\nVedic people were fearfully dissipated, and page after page of that\nwonderful sacred book, the Rigs-Veda, is devoted to the habit of\ndrunkenness. The worst classes of drunkards of India used Indian hemp to\nmake bhang, or combined the deadly narcotic stramonium with arrack, a\nnative beer, to produce a poisonous intoxicant. In that early day the\ninhabitants of India and China were fearfully depraved drunkards, and\nbut for the reforms instituted by their wise men, must have perished as\na people. Parahaoma, or 'homa,' is an intoxicant made from a lost plant\nthat is described as having yellow blossoms, used by the ancient\ndissolute Persians from the day of Zoroaster. Cannabis sativa produces\nan intoxicant that in Turkey is known as hadschy, in Arabia and India as\nhashish, and to the Hottentots as dacha, and serves as a drunkard's food\nin other lands. The fruit of the juniper produces gin, and the fermented\njuice of the grape, or malt liquors, in all civilized countries are the\nfavorite intoxicants, their origin being lost in antiquity. Other\nsubstances, such as palm, apples, dates, and pomegranates have also been\nuniversally employed as drink producers.\n\n\"Go where you will, man's tendency seems to be towards the bowl that\ninebriates, and yet it is not the use but the abuse of intoxicants that\nman has to dread. Could he be temperate, exhilarants would befriend.\"\n\n\"But here,\" I replied, \"in this underground land, where food is free,\nand existence possible without an effort, this shameful vice has no\nexistence. Here there is no incentive to intemperance, and even though\nman were present with his inherent passion for drink, he could not find\nmeans to gratify his appetite.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" my guide replied, \"that is an error. Why should this part of the\nearth prove an exception to the general rule? Nature always supplies the\nmeans, and man's instinct teaches him how to prepare an intoxicant. So\nlong as man is human his passions will rule. If you should prove unequal\nto the task you have undertaken, if you shrink from your journey, and\nturn back, the chances are you will fail to reach the surface of the\nearth. You will surely stop in the chamber which we now approach, and\nwhich I have now prepared you to enter, and will then become one of a\nband of earth drunkards; having all the lower passions of a mortal you\nwill yet be lost to the virtues of man. In this chamber those who falter\nand turn back, stop and remain for all time, sinking until they become\nlower in the human scale than any drunkard on earth. Without any\nrestraining influence, without a care, without necessity of food or\nincentive to exertion, in this habitation where heat and cold are\nunknown, and no motive for self-preservation exists, they turn their\nthoughts toward the ruling passion of mankind and--Listen! Do you not\nhear them? Listen!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII.\n\n THE DRUNKARD'S VOICE.\n\n\nThen I noticed a medley of sounds seemingly rising out of the depths\nbeyond us. The noise was not such as to lead me to infer that persons\nwere speaking coherently, but rather resembled a jargon such as might\ncome from a multitude of persons talking indiscriminately and aimlessly.\nIt was a constant volley, now rising and now falling in intensity, as\nthough many persons regardless of one another were chanting different\ntunes in that peculiar sing-song tone often characteristic of the\ndrunkard. As we advanced, the noise became louder and more of a medley,\nuntil at last we were surrounded by confusion. Then a single voice rose\nup strong and full, and at once, from about us, close to us, yes,\nagainst our very persons, cries and shrieks unearthly smote my ears. I\ncould distinguish words of various tongues, English, Irish, German, and\nmany unfamiliar and disjointed cries, imprecations, and maledictions.\nThe cavern about seemed now to be resonant with voices,--shrieks, yells,\nand maniacal cries commingled,--and yet no form appeared. As we rushed\nonward, for now my guide grasped my arm tightly and drew me rapidly down\nthe cavern floor, the voices subsided, and at length sounded as if\nbehind us. Now however it seemed as though innumerable arrows, each\npossessed of a whistle or tone of its own, were in wave-like gusts\nshrieking by us. Coming from in front, they burst in the rear. Stopping\nto listen, I found that a connection could be traced between the screech\nof the arrow-like shriek, and a drunkard's distant voice. It seemed as\nthough a rocket made of an escaping voice would scream past, and\nbursting in the cavern behind, liberate a human cry. Now and then all\nbut a few would subside, to burst out with increased violence, as if a\nflight of rockets each with a cry of its own would rush past, to be\nfollowed after their explosion by a medley of maniacal cries, songs,\nshrieks, and groans, commingled. It was as though a shell containing a\nvoice that escaped slowly as by pressure from an orifice, were fired\npast my ears, to explode and liberate the voice within my hearing. The\ndreadful utterance was not an echo, was not hallucination, it was real.\n\nI stopped and looked at my guide in amazement. He explained: \"Did you\nnot sometime back experience that your own voice was thrown from your\nbody?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered.\n\n\"These crazed persons or rather experiences depraved, are shouting in\nthe cavern beyond,\" he said. \"They are in front; their voices pass us to\nburst into expression in the rear.\"\n\nThen, even as he spoke, from a fungus stalk near us, a hideous creature\nunfolded itself, and shambled to my side. It had the frame of a man, and\nyet it moved like a serpent, writhing towards me. I stepped back in\nhorror, but the tall, ungainly creature reached out an arm and grasped\nme tightly. Leaning over he placed his hideous mouth close to my ear,\nand moaned: \"Back, back, go thou back.\"\n\nI made no reply, being horror-stricken.\n\n\"Back, I say, back to earth, or--\"\n\nHe hesitated, and still possessed of fear, and unable to reply, I was\nsilent.\n\n\"Then go on,\" he said, \"on to your destiny, unhappy man,\" and slinking\nback to the fungus whence he arose, he disappeared from sight.\n\n\"Come,\" said my guide, \"let us pass the Drunkard's Den. This was but a\nstraggler; nerve yourself, for his companions will soon surround us.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII.\n\n THE DRUNKARDS' DEN.\n\n\nAs we progressed the voices in our rear became more faint, and yet the\nwhistling volleys of screeching voice bombs passed us as before. I\nshuddered in anticipation of the sight that was surely to meet our gaze,\nand could not but tremble for fear. Then I stopped and recoiled, for at\nmy very feet I beheld a huge, living human head. It rested on the solid\nrock, and had I not stopped suddenly when I did, I would have kicked it\nat the next leap. The eyes of the monster were fixed in supplication on\nmy face; the great brow indicated intelligence, the finely-cut mouth\ndenoted refinement, the well-modeled head denoted brain, but the whole\nconstituted a monster. The mouth opened, and a whizzing, arrow voice\nswept past, and was lost in the distance.\n\n\"What is this?\" I gasped.\n\n\"The fate of a drunkard,\" my guide replied. \"This was once an\nintelligent man, but now he has lost his body, and enslaved his soul, in\nthe den of drink beyond us, and has been brought here by his comrades,\nwho thus rid themselves of his presence. Here he must rest eternally. He\ncan not move, he has but one desire, drink, and that craving, deeper\nthan life, can not be satiated.\"\n\n\"But he desires to speak; speak lower, man, or head of man, if you wish\nme to know your wants,\" I said, and leaned toward him.\n\nThen the monster whispered, and I caught the words:\n\n\"Back, back, go thou back!\"\n\nI made no reply.\n\n\"Back I say, back to earth or--\"\n\nStill I remained silent.\n\n\"Then go on,\" he said; \"on to your destiny, unhappy man.\"\n\n\"This is horrible,\" I muttered.\n\n\"Come,\" said the guide, \"let us proceed.\"\n\nAnd we moved onward.\n\nNow I perceived many such heads about us, all resting upright on the\nstony floor. Some were silent, others were shouting, others still were\nwhispering and endeavoring to attract my attention. As we hurried on I\nsaw more and more of these abnormal creatures. Some were in rows,\nresting against each other, leaving barely room for us to pass between,\nbut at last, much to my relief, we left them behind us.\n\nBut I found that I had no cause for congratulation, when I felt myself\nclutched by a powerful hand--a hand as large as that of a man fifty feet\nin height. I looked about expecting to see a gigantic being, but instead\nbeheld a shrunken pigmy. The whole man seemed but a single hand--a\nBrobdingnag hand affixed to the body of a Liliputian.\n\n\"Do not struggle,\" said the guide; \"listen to what he wishes to impart.\"\n\nI leaned over, placing my ear close to the mouth of the monstrosity.\n\n\"Back, back, go thou back,\" it whispered.\n\n\"What have I to fear?\" I asked.\n\n\"Back, I say, back to earth, or--\"\n\n\"Or what?\" I said.\n\n\"Then go on; on to your destiny, unhappy man,\" he answered, and the hand\nloosed its grasp.\n\nMy guide drew me onward.\n\nThen, from about us, huge hands arose; on all sides they waved in the\nair; some were closed and were shaken as clenched fists, others moved\naimlessly with spread fingers, others still pointed to the passage we\nhad traversed, and in a confusion of whispers I heard from the pigmy\nfigures a babble of cries, \"Back, back, go thou back.\" Again I\nhesitated, the strain upon my nerves was becoming unbearable; I glanced\nbackward and saw a swarm of misshaped diminutive forms, each holding up\na monstrous arm and hand. The passage behind us was closed against\nretreat. Every form possessed but one hand, the other and the entire\nbody seemingly had been drawn into this abnormal member. While I thus\nmeditated, momentarily, as by a single thought each hand closed,\nexcepting the index finger, and in unison each finger pointed towards\nthe open way in front, and like shafts from a thousand bows I felt the\nvoices whiz past me, and then from the rear came the reverberation as a\ncomplex echo, \"Then go on; on to your destiny, unhappy man.\"\n\nInstinctively I sprang forward, and had it not been for the restraining\nhand of my guide would have rushed wildly into passages that might have\nended my misery, for God only knows what those unseen corridors\ncontained. I was aware of that which lay behind, and was only intent on\nescaping from the horrid figures already passed.\n\n[Illustration: \"EACH FINGER POINTED TOWARDS THE OPEN WAY IN FRONT.\"]\n\n\"Hold,\" whispered the guide; \"as you value your life, stop.\"\n\nAnd then exerting a power that I could not withstand, he held me a\nstruggling prisoner.\n\n\"Listen,\" he said, \"have you not observed that these creatures do not\nseek to harm you? Have not all of them spoken kindly, have any offered\nviolence?\"\n\n\"No,\" I replied, \"but they are horrible.\"\n\n\"That they realize; but fearing that you will prove to be as weak as\nthey have been, and will become as they are now, they warn you back.\nHowever, I say to you, if you have courage sufficient, you need have no\nfear. Come, rely on me, and do not be surprised at anything that\nappears.\"\n\nAgain we went forward. I realized now my utter helplessness. I became\nindifferent again; I could neither retrace my footsteps alone, nor guide\nthem forward in the path I was to pursue. I submissively relied on my\nguide, and as stoical as he appeared to be, I moved onward to new\nscenes.\n\nWe came to a great chamber which, as we halted on its edge, seemed to be\na prodigious amphitheater. In its center a rostrum-like stone of a\nhundred feet in diameter, flat and circular on the top, reared itself\nabout twelve feet above the floor, and to the base of this rostrum the\nfloor of the room sloped evenly. The amphitheater was fully a thousand\nfeet in diameter, of great height, and the floor was literally alive\nwith grotesque beings. Imagination could not depict an abnormal human\nform that did not exhibit itself to my startled gaze. One peculiarity\nnow presented itself to my mind; each abnormal part seemed to be created\nat the expense of the remainder of the body. Thus, to my right I beheld\na single leg, fully twelve feet in height, surmounted by a puny human\nform, which on this leg, hopped ludicrously away. I saw close behind\nthis huge limb a great ear attached to a small head and body; then a\nnose so large that the figure to which it was attached was forced to\nhold the face upward, in order to prevent the misshaped organ from\nrubbing on the stony floor. Here a gigantic forehead rested on a\nshrunken face and body, and there a pair of enormous feet were walking,\nseemingly attached to the body of a child, and yet the face was that of\na man. If an artist were to attempt to create as many revolting figures\nas possible, each with some member out of proportion to the rest of the\nbody, he could not add one form to those upon this floor. And yet, I\nagain observed that each exaggerated organ seemed to have drawn itself\ninto existence by absorbing the remainder of the body. We stood on the\nedge of this great room, and I pondered the scene before my eyes. At\nlength my guide broke the silence:\n\n\"You must cross this floor; no other passage is known. Mark well my\nwords, heed my advice.\"\n\n\"This is the Drunkards' Den. These men are lost to themselves and to the\nworld. Every member of this assembly once passed onward as you are now\ndoing, in charge of a guide. They failed to reach the goal to which you\naspire, and retreating, reached this chamber, to become victims to the\ndrink habit. Some of these creatures have been here for ages, others\nonly for a short period.\"\n\n\"Why are they so distorted?\" I asked.\n\n\"Because matter is now only partly subservient to will,\" he replied.\n\"The intellect and mind of a drunkard on surface earth becomes abnormal\nby the influence of an intoxicant, but his real form is unseen, although\nevidently misshapen and partly subject to the perception of a few only\nof his fellow men. Could you see the inner form of an earth surface\ndrunkard, you would perceive as great a mental monstrosity as is any\nphysical monster now before you, and of the two the physically abnormal\ncreature is really the least objectionable. Could you see the mind\nconfigurations of an assembly of surface earth topers, you would\nperceive a class of beings as much distorted mentally as are these\nphysically. A drunkard is a monstrosity. On surface earth the mind\nbecomes abnormal; here the body suffers.\"\n\n\"Why is it,\" I asked, \"that parts of these creatures shrink away as some\nspecial organ increases?\"\n\n\"Because the abnormal member can grow only by abstracting its substance\nfrom the other portions of the body. An increasing arm enlarges itself\nby drawing its strength from the other parts, hence the body withers as\nthe hand enlarges, and in turn the hand shrinks when the leg increases\nin size. The total weight of the individual remains about the same.\n\n\"Men on earth judge of men not by what they are, but by what they seem\nto be. The physical form is apparent to the sense of sight, the real man\nis unseen. However, as the boot that encloses a foot can not altogether\nhide the form of the foot within, so the body that encloses the life\nentity, can not but exhibit here and there the character of the\ndominating spirit within. Thus a man's features may grow to indicate the\nnature of the enclosed spirit, for the controlling character of that\nspirit will gradually impress itself on the material part of man. Even\non surface earth, where the matter side of man dominates, a vicious\nspirit will produce a villainous countenance, a mediocre mind a vapid\nface, and an amorous soul will even protrude the anterior part of the\nskull.\n\n\"Carry the same law to this location, and it will be seen that as mind,\nor spirit, is here the master, and matter is the slave, the same rule\nshould, under natural law, tend to produce such abnormal figures as you\nperceive. Hence the part of a man's spirit that is endowed most highly\nsways the corresponding part of his physical body at the expense of the\nremainder. Gradually the form is altered under the relaxing influence of\nthis fearful intra-earth intoxicant, and eventually but one organ\nremains to tell of the symmetrical man who formerly existed. Then, when\nhe is no longer capable of self-motion, the comrades carry the\ndrunkard's fate, which is here the abnormal being you have seen, into\nthe selected corridor, and deposit it among others of its kind, as in\nturn the bearers are destined sometime to be carried by others. We\nreached this cavern through a corridor in which heads and arms were\nabnormal, but in others may be found great feet, great legs, or other\nportions of self-abused man.\n\n\"I should tell you, furthermore, that on surface earth a drunkard is not\nless abnormal than these creatures; but men can not see the form of the\ndrunkard's spirit. Could they perceive the image of the real man life\nthat corresponds to the material part, it would appear not less\ndistorted and hideous. The soul of a mortal protrudes from the visible\nbody as down expands from a thistle seed, but it is invisible. Drink\ndrives the spirit of an earth-surface drunkard to unnatural forms, not\nless grotesque than these physical distortions. Could you see the real\ndrunkard on surface earth he would be largely outside the body shell,\nand hideous in the extreme. As a rule, the spirit of an earth-surface\ndrunkard dominates the nose and face, and if mortal man could be\nsuddenly gifted with the sense of mind-sight, they would find themselves\nsurrounded by persons as misshapen as any delirious imagination can\nconjure. Luckily for humanity this scene is as yet withheld from man,\nfor life would otherwise be a fearful experience, because man has not\nthe power to resist the temptation to abuse drink.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" I said, \"how long will those beings rest in these caverns?\"\n\n\"They have been here for ages,\" replied the guide; \"they are doomed to\nremain for ages yet.\"\n\n\"You have intimated that if my courage fails I will return to this\ncavern and become as they are. Now that you have warned me of my doom,\ndo you imagine that anything, even sudden death, can swerve me from my\njourney? Death is surely preferable to such an existence as this.\"\n\n\"Do not be so confident. Every individual before you has had the same\nopportunity, and has been warned as you have been. They could not\nundergo the test to which they were subjected, and you may fail.\nBesides, on surface earth are not men constantly confronted with the\ndoom of the drunkard, and do they not, in the face of this reality, turn\nback and seek his caverns? The journey of life is not so fearful that\nthey should become drunkards to shrink from its responsibilities. You\nhave reached this point in safety. You have passed the sentinels\nwithout, and will soon be accosted by the band before us. Listen well\nnow to my advice. A drunkard always seeks to gain companions, to draw\nothers down to his own level, and you will be tried as never have you\nbeen before. Taste not their liquor by whatever form or creature\npresented. They have no power to harm him who has courage to resist. If\nthey entreat you, refuse; if they threaten, refuse; if they offer\ninducements, refuse to drink. Let your answer be No, and have no fear.\nIf your strength fail you, mark well my--\"\n\nBefore he could complete his sentence I felt a pressure, as of a great\nwind, and suddenly found myself seized in an embrace irresistible, and\nthen, helpless as a feather, was swept out into the cavern of the\ndrunkards.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX.\n\n AMONG THE DRUNKARDS.\n\n\nI remember once to have stood on the edge of Niagara's great whirlpool,\nbut not more fearful did its seething waters then seem than did the\nsemi-human whirl into which I had now been plunged. Whether my guide had\nbeen aware of the coming move that separated us I never knew, but, as\nhis words were interrupted, I infer that he was not altogether ready to\npart from my company. Be this as it may, he disappeared from sight, and,\nas by a concerted move, the cries of the drunkards subsided instantly. I\nfound myself borne high in the air, perched on a huge hand that was\ncarried by its semi-human comrades. It seemed as though the contents of\nthat vast hall had been suddenly thrown beneath me, for, as I looked\nabout, I saw all around a sea of human fragments, living, moving parts\nof men. Round and round that hall we circled as an eddy whirls in a\nrock-bound basin, and not less silently than does the water of an eddy.\nThen I perceived that the disjointed mass of humanity moved as a spiral,\nin unison, throbbing like a vitalized stream, bearing me submissively on\nits surface. Gradually the distance between myself and the center stone\nlessened, and then I found that, as if carried in the groove of a\ngigantic living spiral, I was being swept towards the stone platform in\nthe center of the room. There was method in the movements of the\ndrunkards, although I could not analyze the intricacies of their complex\nreel.\n\nFinally I was borne to the center stone, and by a sudden toss of the\nhand, in the palm of which I was seated, I was thrown upon the raised\nplatform. Then in unison the troop swung around the stone, and I found\nmyself gazing on a mass of vitalized fragments of humanity. Quickly a\nfigure sprung upon the platform, and in him I discerned a seemingly\nperfect man. He came to my side and grasped my hand as if he were a\nfriend.\n\n\"Do not fear,\" he said; \"obey our request, and you will not be harmed.\"\n\n\"What do you desire?\" I asked.\n\nHe pointed to the center of the stone, and I saw thereon many gigantic,\ninverted fungus bowls. The gills of some had been crushed to a pulp, and\nhad saturated themselves with liquid which, perhaps by a species of\nfermentation, had undergone a structural change; others were as yet\nintact; others still contained men intently cutting the gills into\nfragments and breaking the fruit preparatory to further manipulation.\n\n\"You are to drink with us,\" he replied.\n\n\"No,\" I said; \"I will not drink.\"\n\n\"Then you must die; to refuse to drink with us is to invite death.\"\n\n\"So mote it be; I will not drink.\"\n\nWe stood facing each other, apparently both meditating on the situation.\n\nI remember to have been surprised, not that the man before me had been\nable to spring from the floor to the table rock on which I stood, but\nthat so fair a personage could have been a companion of the\nmonstrosities about me. He was a perfect type of manhood, and was\nexquisitely clothed in a loose, flowing robe that revealed and\nheightened the beauty of his symmetrical form. His face was fair, yet\nsoftly tinted with rich, fresh color; his hair and beard were neatly\ntrimmed; his manner was polished, and his countenance frank and\nattractive. The contrast between the preternatural shapes from among\nwhom he sprung and himself was as between a demon and an angel. I\nmarveled that I had not perceived him before, for such a one should have\nbeen conspicuous because so fair; but I reflected that it was quite\nnatural that among the thousands of grotesque persons about me, one\nattractive form should have escaped notice. Presently he spoke again,\nseemingly having repented of his display of temper.\n\n\"I am a friend,\" he said; \"a deliverer. I will serve you as I have\nothers before you. Lean on me, listen to my story, accept my proffered\nfriendship.\"\n\nThen he continued: \"When you have rested, I will guide you in safety\nback to upper earth, and restore you to your friends.\"\n\nI could not resist his pleasing promise. I suddenly and unaccountably\nbelieved in his sincerity. He impressed me with confidence in his\ntruthfulness, yes, against my better judgment, convinced me that he must\nbe a friend, a savior. Grasping him by the hand I thanked him for his\ninterest in a disconsolate wanderer, and assured him of my confidence.\n\n\"I am in your hands,\" I said; \"I will obey you implicitly. I thank you,\nmy deliverer; lead me back to surface earth and receive the gratitude of\na despairing mortal.\"\n\n\"This I will surely do,\" he said; \"rest your case in my hands, do not\nconcern yourself in the least about your future. Before acquiescing in\nyour desire, however, I will explain part of the experiences through\nwhich you have recently passed. You have been in the control of an evil\nspirit, and have been deceived. The grotesque figures, the abnormal\nbeings about you, exist only in your disordered imagination. They are\nnot real. These persons are happy and free from care or pain. They live\nin bliss inexpressible. They have a life within a life, and the outward\nexpression that you have perceived is as the uncouth hide and figure\nthat incloses the calm, peaceful eye of a toad. Look at their eyes, not\nat their seemingly distorted forms.\"\n\nI turned to the throng and beheld a multitude of upturned faces mildly\nbeaming upon me. As I glanced from eye to eye of each countenance, the\nrepulsive figure disappeared from my view, and a sweet expression of\ninnocence was all that was disclosed to me. I realized that I had judged\nby the outer garment. I had wronged these fellow-beings. A sense of\nremorse came over me, a desire to atone for my short-sightedness.\n\n\"What can I offer as a retribution?\" I asked. \"I have injured these\npeople.\"\n\n\"Listen,\" was the reply. \"These serene intelligences are happy. They are\nas a band of brothers. They seek to do you a kindness, to save you from\ndisaster. One hour of experience such as they enjoy is worth a hundred\nyears of the pleasures known to you. This delicious favor, an hour of\nbliss, they freely offer you, and after you have partaken of their\nexquisite joy, I will conduct you back to earth's surface whenever you\ndesire to leave us.\" He emphasized the word, desire.\n\n\"I am ready,\" I replied; \"give me this promised delight.\"\n\nThe genial allurer turned to the table rock behind us, and continued:\n\n\"In these fungus bowls we foment the extract of life. The precious\ncordial is as a union of the quintessential spirits of joy, peace,\ntranquillity, happiness, and delight. Could man abstract from ecstasy\nthe thing that underlies the sense that gives that word a meaning, his\nproduct would not approach the power of the potent liquids in these\nvessels.\"\n\n\"Of what are they composed?\" I asked.\n\n\"Of derivatives of the rarest species of the fungus family,\" he\nanswered. \"They are made by formulae that are the result of thousands of\nyears of experimentation. Come, let us not delay longer the hour of\nbliss.\"\n\nTaking me by the hand, my graceful comrade led me to the nearest bowl.\nThen on closer view I perceived that its contents were of a deep green\ncolor, and in active commotion, and although no vapor was apparent, a\ndelightful sensation impressed my faculties. I am not sure that I\ninhaled at all,--the feeling was one of penetration, of subtile, magic\nabsorption. My companion took a tiny shell which he dipped into the\nstrange cauldron. Holding the tiny cup before me, he spoke the one word,\n\"Drink.\"\n\nReady to acquiesce, forgetful of the warning I had received, I grasped\nthe cup, and raised it to my lips, and as I did so chanced to glance at\nmy tempter's face, and saw not the supposed friend I had formerly\nobserved, but, as through a mask fair in outline, the countenance of an\nexulting demon, regarding me with a sardonic grin. In an instant he had\nchanged from man to devil.\n\nI dashed the cup upon the rock. \"No; I will not drink,\" I shouted.\n\nInstantly the cavern rung with cries of rage. A thousand voices joined\nas by accord, and simultaneously the throng of fragments of men began to\nrevolve again. The mysterious spiral seemed to unwind, but I could not\ncatch the method of its movement. The motion was like that of an\nuncoiling serpent bisected lengthwise, the two halves of the body\nseeming to slide against each other. Gradually that part of the cavern\nnear the stone on which I stood became clear of its occupants, and at\nlast I perceived that the throng had receded to the outer edge.\n\nThen the encircling side walls of the amphitheater became visible, and\nas water sinks into sand, the medley of fragments of humanity\ndisappeared from view.\n\nI turned to my companion; he, too, had vanished. I glanced towards the\nliquor cauldrons; the stone was bare. I alone occupied the gigantic\nhall. No trace remained to tell of the throng that a short time\npreviously had surrounded and mocked me.\n\nDesolate, distracted, I threw myself upon the stone, and cursed my\nmiserable self. \"Come back,\" I cried, \"come back. I will drink, drink,\ndrink.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XL.\n\n FURTHER TEMPTATION.--ETIDORHPA.\n\n\nThen, as my voice reverberated from the outer recesses, I caught a sound\nas of music in the distance. I raised my head and listened--yes, surely\nthere was music. The melody became clearly distinct, and soon my senses\nwere aware that both vocal and instrumental music were combined. The\nairs which came floating were sweet, simple, and beautiful. The voices\nand accompanying strains approached, but I could distinguish no words.\nBy and by, from the corridors of the cavern, troops of bright female\nforms floated into view. They were clad in robes ranging from pure white\nto every richest hue, contrasting strangely, and in the distance their\nrainbow brilliancy made a gorgeous spectacle. Some were fantastically\nattired in short gowns, such as I imagine were worn by the dancing girls\nof sacred history, others had kirtles of a single bright color, others\nof many shades intermingled, while others still were dressed in\ngauze-like fabrics of pure white.\n\nAs they filed into the cavern, and approached me, they formed into\nplatoons, or into companies, and then, as dissolving views come and go,\nthey presented first one and then another figure. Sometimes they would\nstretch in great circling lines around the hall, again they would form\ninto squares, and again into geometrical figures of all shades and\nforms, but I observed that with every change they drew nearer to the\nstone on which I rested.\n\nThey were now so near that their features could be distinguished, and\nnever before had I seen such loveliness in human mold. Every face was as\nperfect as a master's picture of the Madonna, and yet no two seemed to\npossess the same type of beauty. Some were of dark complexion with\nglossy, raven hair, others were fair with hair ranging from light brown\nto golden. The style of head dress, as a rule, was of the simplest\ndescription. A tinted ribbon, or twisted cord, over the head, bound\ntheir hair with becoming grace, and their silken locks were either\nplaited into braids, curled into ringlets, or hung loosely, flowing in\nwavelets about their shoulders. Some held curious musical instruments,\nothers beautiful wands, and altogether they produced a scenic effect of\nrare beauty that the most extravagant dream of fairyland could not\nsurpass. Thus it was that I became again the center of a throng, not of\nrepulsive monsters, but of marvelously lovely beings. They were as\ndifferent from those preceding as darkness is from daylight.\n\nCould any man from the data of my past experiences have predicted such a\nscene? Never before had the semblance of a woman appeared, never before\nhad an intimation been given that the gentle sex existed in these silent\nchambers. Now, from the grotesque figures and horrible cries of the\nformer occupants of this same cavern, the scene had changed to a\nconception of the beautiful and artistic, such as a poetic spirit might\nevolve in an extravagant dream of higher fairy land. I glanced above;\nthe great hall was clothed in brilliant colors, the bare rocks had\ndisappeared, the dome of that vast arch reaching to an immeasurable\nheight, was decorated in all the colors of the rainbow. Flags and\nstreamers fluttered in breezes that also moved the garments of the\nangelic throng about me, but which I could not sense; profiles of\nenchanting faces pervaded the glimmering space beyond; I alone was but\nan onlooker, not a participant of the joys about me.\n\nThe movements of the seraph-like figures continued, innumerable forms\nand figures followed forms and figures innumerable, and music\nindescribable blended with the poetry of motion. I was rapt, the past\ndisappeared, my former mind was blotted from existence, the world\nvanished, and I became a thrill of joy, a sensation of absolute delight.\n\nThe band of spirits or fairy forms reached the rock at my feet, but I\ndid not know how long a time they consumed in doing this; it may have\nbeen a second, and it may have been an eternity. Neither did I care. A\nsingle moment of existence such as I experienced, seemed worth an age of\nany other pleasure.\n\nCircling about me, these ethereal creatures paused from their motions,\nand, as the music ceased, I stood above them, and yet in their midst,\nand gazed out into a distance illimitable, but not less beautiful in the\nexpanse than was the adjacent part. The cavern had altogether\ndisappeared, and in the depths about me as far as the eye could reach,\nseemingly into the broad expanse of heaven, I saw the exquisite forms\nthat I have so imperfectly described.\n\nThen a single band from the throng lightly sprung upon the stony terrace\nwhere I stood, and sung and danced before me. Every motion was perfect\nas imagination could depict, every sound was concentrated extract of\nmelody. This band retired to be replaced by another, which in turn gave\nway to another, and still another, until, as in space we have no\nstandard, time vanished, and numbers ceased to be numbers.\n\nNo two of the band of dancers were clothed alike, no two songs were\nsimilar, though all were inexpressibly enchanting. The first group\nseemed perfect, and yet the second was better, and each succeeding band\nsung sweeter songs, were more beautiful, and richer in dress than those\npreceding. I became enveloped in the aesthetic atmosphere, my spirit\nseemed to be loosened from the body, it was apparently upon the point of\nescaping from its mortal frame; suddenly the music ceased, the figures\nabout became passive, and every form standing upright and graceful,\ngazed upon my face, and as I looked at the radiant creatures, each\nsuccessive face, in turn, seemed to grow more beautiful, each form more\nexquisite than those about.\n\nThen, in the distance, I observed the phalanx divide, forming into two\ndivisions, separated by a broad aisle, stretching from my feet to the\nlimit of space without, and down this aisle I observed a single figure\nadvancing toward me.\n\nAs she approached, the phalanx closed in behind her, and when at last\nshe reached the stone on which I stood, she stepped, or was wafted to my\nside, and the phalanx behind moved together and was complete again.\n\n[Illustration: ETIDORHPA.]\n\n\"My name is Etidorhpa. In me you behold the spirit that elevates man,\nand subdues the most violent of passions. In history, so far back in the\ndim ages as to be known now as legendary mythology, have I ruled and\nblessed the world. Unclasp my power over man and beast, and while heaven\ndissolves, the charms of Paradise will perish. I know no master. The\nuniverse bows to my authority. Stars and suns enamored pulsate and throb\nin space and kiss each other in waves of light; atoms cold embrace and\ncling together; structures inanimate affiliate with and attract\ninanimate structures; bodies dead to other noble passions are not dead\nto love. The savage beast, under my enchantment, creeps to her lair, and\ngently purrs over her offspring; even man becomes less violent, and\nsheathes his weapon and smothers his hatred as I soothe his passions\nbeside the loved ones in the privacy of his home.\n\n\"I have been known under many titles, and have comforted many peoples.\nStrike my name from Time's record, and the lovely daughters of Zeus and\nDione would disappear; and with them would vanish the grace and beauty\nof woman; the sweet conception of the Froth Child of the Cyprus Sea\nwould be lost; Venus, the Goddess of Love, would have no place in song,\nand Love herself, the holiest conception of the poet, man's superlative\nconception of Heaven's most precious charms, would be buried with the\nmyrtle and the rose. My name is Etidorhpa; interpret it rightly, and you\nhave what has been to humanity the essence of love, the mother of all\nthat ennobles. He who loves a wife worships me; she, who in turn makes a\nhome happy, is typical of me. I am Etidorhpa, the beginning and the end\nof earth. Behold in me the antithesis of envy, the opposite of malice,\nthe enemy of sorrow, the mistress of life, the queen of immortal bliss.\n\n\"Do you know,\" she continued, and her voice, soft and sweet, carried\nwith it a pleasurable sense of truthfulness indescribable, \"do you know\nthat man's idea of heaven, places me, Etidorhpa, on the highest throne?\nWith the charm of maiden pure, I combine the devotion of wife and the\nholiness of mother. Take from the life of man the treasures I embody,\nand he will be homeless, childless, loveless. The thought of Heaven will\nin such a case be as the dismal conception of a dreary platitude. A life\nin such a Heaven, a Heaven devoid of love (and this the Scriptures\nteach), is one of endless torment.\n\n\"Love, by whatever name the conception is designated, rules the world.\nDivest the cold man of science, of the bond that binds him to his\nlife-thought, and his work is ended. Strike from the master in music\nthe chord that links his soul to the voice he breathes, and his songs\nwill be hushed. Deaden the sense of love which the artist bears his art,\nand as the spirit that underlies his thought-scenes vanishes, his touch\nbecomes chilled, and his brush inexpressive. The soldier thinks of his\nhome and country, and without a murmur sheds his life blood.\n\n\"And yet there are debasing phases of love, for as love of country\nbuilds a nation, so love of pillage may destroy it. Love of the holy and\nthe beautiful stands in human life opposed to love of the debasing and\nvicious, and I, Etidorhpa, am typical of the highest love of man. As the\nsame force binds the molecules of the rose and the violet as well as\nthose of noxious drugs, so the same soul conception may serve the love\nof good or the love of evil. Love may guide a tyrant or actuate a saint,\nmay make man torture his fellow, or strive to ease his pain.\n\n\"Thus, man's propensity to serve his holy or his evil passion may each\nbe called a degree in love, and in the serving of that passion the love\nof one heart may express itself as the antithesis of love in another. As\nbitter is to some men's taste more pleasant than sweet, and sour is yet\nmore grateful to others, so one man may love the beautiful, another\ndelight in the grotesque, and a third may love to see his neighbor\nsuffer. Amid these, the phase of love that ennobles, brings the greatest\ndegree of pleasure and comfort to mankind, but the love that degrades is\nlove nevertheless, by whatever name the expression of the passion may be\ncalled. Love rules the world, and typical of man's intensest, holiest\nlove, I, Etidorhpa, stand the Soul of Love Supreme.\" She hesitated.\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"I have already said, and in saying this have told the truth, I come\nfrom beyond the empty shell of a materialistic gold and silver\nconception of Heaven. Go with me, and in my home you will find man's\nsoul devotion, regardless of material surroundings. I have said, and\ntruly, the corridors of the Heaven mansion, enriched by precious stones\nand metals fine, but destitute of my smiles and graces, are deserted.\nThe golden calf is no longer worshiped, cobwebs cling in festoons\nmotionless, and the dust of selfish thoughts perverted, dry and black as\nthe soot from Satan's fires settling therein, as the dust of an\nantiquated sarcophagus, rest undisturbed. Place on one side the Heaven\nof which gold-bound misers sing, and on the other Etidorhpa and the\ntreasures that come with me to man and woman, (for without me neither\nwife, child, nor father could exist,) and from any other heaven mankind\nwill turn away. The noblest gift of Heaven to humanity is the highest\nsense of love, and I, Etidorhpa, am the soul of love.\"\n\nShe ceased speaking, and as I looked at the form beside me I forgot\nmyself in the rapture of that gaze.\n\nCrush the colors of the rainbow into a single hue possessed of the\nattributes of all the others, and multiply that entity to infinity, and\nyou have less richness than rested in any of the complex colors shown in\nthe trimming of her raiment. Lighten the softness of eiderdown a\nthousand times, and yet maintain its sense of substance, and you have\nnot conceived of the softness of the gauze that decked her simple,\nflowing garments. Gather the shadows cast by a troop of radiant angels,\nthen sprinkle the resultant shade with star dust, and color therewith a\ngarment brighter than satin, softer than silk, and more ethereal than\nlight itself, and you have less beauty than reposed in the modest dress\nthat enveloped her figure. Abstract the perfume from the sweetest\noriental grasses, and combine with it the essential spirit of the wild\nrose, then add thereto the soul of ambergris, and the quintessential\nextracts of the finest aromatics of the East, and you have not\napproached the exquisite fragrance that penetrated my very being at her\napproach. She stood before me, slender, lithe, symmetrical, radiant. Her\nhair was more beautiful than pen can depict; it was colorless because it\ncan not be described by colors known to mortals. Her face paled the\nbeauty of all who had preceded her. She could not be a fairy, for no\nconception of a fairy can approach such loveliness; she was not a\nspirit, for surely material substance was a part of her form; she was\nnot an angel, for no abnormal, irrational wing protruded from her\nshoulder to blemish her seraphic figure.\n\n\"No,\" I said musingly; \"she is a creature of other climes; the\nScriptures tell of no such being; she is neither human nor angelic,\nbut--\"\n\n\"But what?\" she said.\n\n\"I do not know,\" I answered.\n\n\"Then I will tell you,\" she replied. \"Yes; I will tell you of myself and\nof my companions. I will show you our home, carrying you through the\nshadows of heaven to exhibit that fair land, for heaven without\nEtidorhpa casts a shadow in comparison therewith. See,\" she said, as\nwith her dainty fingers she removed from her garment a fragment of\ntransparent film that I had not previously observed; \"see, this is a\ncobweb that clung to my skirt, as, on my way to meet you, I passed\nthrough the dismal corridors of the materialists' loveless heaven.\"\n\nShe dropped it on the floor, and I stooped to pick it up, but vainly--my\nfingers passed through it as through a mist.\n\n\"You must be an angel,\" I stammered.\n\nShe smiled.\n\n\"Come,\" she said, \"do not consume your time with thoughts of\nmaterialistic heaven; come with me to that brighter land beyond, and in\nthose indescribable scenes we, you and I, will wander together forever.\"\n\nShe held out her hand; I hesitatingly touched it, and then raised it to\nmy lips. She made no resistance.\n\nI dropped upon my knees. \"Are you to be mine?\" I cried. \"Mine forever?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she answered; \"if you will it, for he who loves will be loved in\nturn.\"\n\n\"I will do it,\" I said; \"I give myself to you, be you what you may, be\nyour home where it may, I give up the earth behind me, and the hope of\nheaven before me; the here and the hereafter I will sacrifice. Let us\nhasten,\" I said, for she made no movement.\n\nShe shook her head. \"You must yet be tempted as never before, and you\nmust resist the tempter. You can not pass into the land of Etidorhpa\nuntil you have suffered as only the damned can suffer, until you have\nwithstood the pangs of thirst, and have experienced heat and cold\nindescribable. Remember the warning of your former guide, mark well the\nwords of Etidorhpa: you must not yield. 'Twas to serve you that I came\nbefore you now, 'twas to preserve you from the Drunkard's Cavern that I\nhave given you this vision of the land beyond the End of Earth where, if\nyou will serve yourself, we will meet again.\"\n\nShe held aloft two tiny cups; I sprung to my feet and grasped one of\nthem, and as I glanced at the throng in front of me, every radiant\nfigure held aloft in the left hand a similar cup. All were gazing in my\nface. I looked at the transparent cup in my hand; it appeared to be\npartly filled with a green liquid. I looked at her cup and saw that it\ncontained a similar fluid.\n\nForgetting the warning she had so recently given, I raised the cup to my\nlips, and just before touching it glanced again at her face. The fair\ncreature stood with bowed head, her face covered with her hand; her very\nform and attitude spoke of sorrow and disappointment, and she trembled\nin distress. She held one hand as though to thrust back a form that\nseemed about to force itself beyond her figure, for peering exultingly\nfrom behind, leered the same Satanic face that met my gaze on the\npreceding occasion, when in the presence of the troop of demons, I had\nbeen tempted by the perfect man.\n\nDashing the cup to the floor I shouted:\n\n\"No; I will not drink.\"\n\nEtidorhpa dropped upon her knees and clasped her hands. The Satanic\nfigure disappeared from sight. Realizing that we had triumphed over the\ntempter, I also fell upon my knees in thankfulness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI.\n\n MISERY.\n\n\nAs all the bubbles in a glass shrink and vanish when the first\ncollapses, so the troop of fairy-like forms before me disintegrated, and\nwere gone. The delicate being, whose hand I held, fluttered as does a\nmist in the first gust of a sudden gale, and then dissolved into\ntransparency. The gaily decked amphitheater disappeared, the very earth\ncavern passed from existence, and I found myself standing solitary and\nalone in a boundless desert. I turned towards every point of the compass\nonly to find that no visible object appeared to break the monotony. I\nstood upon a floor of pure white sand which stretched to the horizon in\ngentle wave-like undulations as if the swell of the ocean had been\ncaught, transformed to sand, and fixed.\n\nI bent down and scooped a handful of the sand, and raised it in the palm\nof my hand, letting it sift back again to earth; it was surely sand. I\npinched my flesh, and pulled my hair, I tore my garments, stamped upon\nthe sand, and shouted aloud to demonstrate that I myself was still\nmyself. It was real, yes, real. I stood alone in a desert of sand.\nMorning was dawning, and on one side the great sun rose slowly and\nmajestically.\n\n\"Thank God for the sun,\" I cried. \"Thank God for the light and heat of\nthe sun.\"\n\nI was again on surface earth; once more I beheld that glorious orb for\nthe sight of which I had so often prayed when I believed myself\nmiserable in the dismal earth caverns, and which I had been willing to\ngive my very life once more to behold. I fell on my knees, and raised my\nhands in thankfulness. I blessed the rising sun, the illimitable sand,\nthe air about me, and the blue heavens above. I blessed all that was\nbefore me, and again and again returned thanks for my delivery from the\ncaverns beneath me. I did not think to question by what power this\nmiracle had been accomplished. I did not care to do so; had I thought\nof the matter at all I would not have dared to question for fear the\ntransition might prove a delusion.\n\nI turned towards the sun, and walked eastward. As the day progressed and\nthe sun rose into the heavens, I maintained my journey, aiming as best I\ncould to keep the same direction. The heat increased, and when the sun\nreached the zenith it seemed as though it would melt the marrow in my\nbones. The sand, as white as snow and hot as lava, dazzled my eyes, and\nI covered them with my hands. The sun in the sky felt as if it were a\nball of white hot iron near my head. It seemed small, and yet appeared\nto shine as through a tube directed only towards myself. Vainly did I\nstruggle to escape and get beyond its boundary, the tube seemed to\nfollow my every motion, directing the blazing shafts, and concentrating\nthem ever upon my defenseless person. I removed my outer garments, and\ntore my shirt into fibers hoping to catch a waft of breeze, and with one\nhand over my eyes, and the other holding my coat above my head,\nendeavored to escape the mighty flood of heat, but vainly. The fiery\nrays streamed through the garment as mercury flows through a film of\ngauze. They penetrated my flesh, and vaporized my blood. My hands,\nfingers, and arms puffed out as a bladder of air expands under the\ninfluence of heat. My face swelled to twice, thrice its normal size, and\nat last my eyes were closed, for my cheeks and eyebrows met. I rubbed my\nshapeless hand over my sightless face, and found it as round as a ball;\nthe nose had become imbedded in the expanded flesh, and my ears had\ndisappeared in the same manner.\n\nI could no longer see the sun, but felt the vivid, piercing rays I could\nnot evade. I do not know whether I walked or rolled along; I only know\nthat I struggled to escape those deadly rays. Then I prayed for death,\nand in the same breath begged the powers that had transferred me to\nsurface earth to carry me back again to the caverns below. The\nrecollection of their cool, refreshing atmosphere was as the thought of\nheaven must be to a lost spirit. I experienced the agony of a damned\nsoul, and now, in contradistinction to former times, considered as my\nidea of perfect happiness the dismal earth caverns of other days. I\nthought of the day I had stood at the mouth of the Kentucky cave, and\nwaded into the water with my guide; I recalled the refreshing coolness\nof the stream in the darkness of that cavern when the last ray of\nsunshine disappeared, and I cursed myself for longing then for sunshine,\nand the surface earth. Fool that man is, I mentally cried, not to be\ncontented with that which is, however he may be situated, and wherever\nhe may be placed. This is but a retribution, I am being cursed for my\ndiscontented mind, this is hell, and in comparison with this hell all\nelse on or in earth is happiness. Then I damned the sun, the earth, the\nvery God of all, and in my frenzy cursed everything that existed. I felt\nmy puffed limbs, and prayed that I might become lean again. I asked to\nshrink to a skeleton, for seemingly my misery came with my expanded\nform; but I prayed and cursed in vain. So I struggled on in agony, every\nmoment seemingly covering a multitude of years; struggled along like a\nlost soul plodding in an endless expanse of ever-increasing,\never-concentrating hell. At last, however, the day declined, the heat\ndecreased, and as it did so my distorted body gradually regained its\nnormal size, my eyesight returned, and finally I stood in that\nwilderness of sand watching the great red sun sink into the earth, as in\nthe morning I had watched it rise. But between the sunrise and the\nsunset there had been an eternity of suffering, and then, as if released\nfrom a spell, I dropped exhausted upon the sand, and seemed to sleep. I\ndreamed of the sun, and that an angel stood before me, and asked why I\nwas miserable, and in reply I pointed to the sun. \"See,\" I said, \"the\nauthor of the misery of man.\"\n\nSaid the angel: \"Were there no sun there would be no men, but were there\nno men there would still be misery.\"\n\n\"Misery of what?\" I asked.\n\n\"Misery of mind,\" replied the angel. \"Misery is a thing, misery is not a\nconception--pain is real, pain is not an impression. Misery and pain\nwould still exist and prey upon mind substance were there no men, for\nmind also is real, and not a mere conception. The pain you have suffered\nhas not been the pain of matter, but the pain of spirit. Matter can not\nsuffer. Were it matter that suffered, the heated sand would writhe in\nagony. No; it is only mind and spirit that experience pain, or pleasure,\nand neither mind nor spirit can evade its destiny, even if it escape\nfrom the body.\"\n\nThen I awoke and saw once more the great red sun rise from the sand-edge\nof my desolate world, and I became aware of a new pain, for now I\nperceived the fact that I experienced the sense of thirst. The\nconception of the impression drew my mind to the subject, and instantly\nintense thirst, the most acute of bodily sufferings, possessed me. When\nvitalized tissue craves water, other physical wants are unfelt; when man\nparches to death all other methods of torture are disregarded. I thought\nno longer of the rising sun, I remembered no more the burning sand of\nyesterday, I felt only the pain of thirst.\n\n\"Water, water, water,\" I cried, and then in the distance as if in answer\nto my cry, I beheld a lake of water.\n\nInstantly every nerve was strained, every muscle stretched, and I fled\nover the sands towards the welcome pool.\n\nOn and on I ran, and as I did so, the sun rising higher and higher,\nagain began to burn the sands beneath my feet, and roast the flesh upon\nmy bones. Once more I experienced that intolerable sense of pain, the\npain of living flesh disintegrating by fire, and now with thirst gnawing\nat my vitals, and fire drying up the residue of my evaporated blood, I\nstruggled in agony towards a lake that vanished before my gaze, to\nreappear just beyond.\n\nThis day was more horrible than the preceding, and yet it was the\nreverse so far as the action of the sun on my flesh was concerned. My\nprayer of yesterday had been fearfully answered, and the curses of the\nday preceding were being visited upon my very self. I had prayed to\nbecome lean, and instead of the former puffed tissue and expanded flesh,\nmy body contracted as does beef when dried. The tightening skin squeezed\nupon the solidifying flesh, and as the moisture evaporated, it left a\nshriveled integument, contracted close upon the bone. My joints stood\nout as great protuberances, my skin turned to a dark amber color, and my\nflesh became transparent as does wetted horn. I saw my very vitals\nthrob, I saw the empty blood vessels, the shriveled nerves and vacant\narteries of my frame. I could not close my eyes. I could not shield them\nfrom the burning sun. I was a mummy, yet living, a dried corpse walking\nover the sand, dead to all save pain. I tried to fall, but could not,\nand I felt that, while the sun was visible, I must stand upright; I\ncould not stop, and could not stoop. Then at last the malevolent sun\nsank beneath the horizon, and as the last ray disappeared again, I fell\nupon the sand.\n\nI did not sleep, I did not rest, I did not breathe nor live a human; I\nonly existed as a living pain, the conception of pain realized into a\nconscious nucleus,--and so the night passed. Again the sun arose, and\nwith the light of her first ray I saw near at hand a caravan, camels,\nmen, horses, a great cavalcade. They approached rapidly and surrounded\nme. The leader of the band alighted and raised me to my feet, for no\nlonger had I the power of motion. He spoke to me kindly, and strange as\nit may seem to you, but not at all strange did it seem to me, called me\nby name.\n\n\"We came across your tracks in the desert,\" he said; \"we are your\ndeliverers.\"\n\nI motioned for water; I could not speak.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"water you shall have.\"\n\nThen from one of the skins that hung across the hump of a camel he\nfilled a crystal goblet with sparkling water, and held it towards me,\nbut just before the goblet touched my lips he withdrew it and said:\n\n\"I forgot to first extend the greetings of our people.\"\n\nAnd then I noticed in his other hand a tiny glass containing a green\nliquid, which he placed to my lips, pronouncing the single word,\n\"Drink.\"\n\nI fastened my gaze upon the water, and opened my lips. I smelled the\naroma of the powerful narcotic liquid within the glass, and hastened to\nobey, but glanced first at my deliverer, and in his stead saw the\nfamiliar face of the satanic figure that twice before had tempted me.\nInstantly, without a thought as to the consequences, without a fear as\nto the result, I dashed the glass to the sand, and my voice returning, I\ncried for the third time, \"No; I will not drink.\"\n\nThe troop of camels instantly disappeared, as had the figures in the\nscenes before, the tempter resolved into clear air, the sand beneath my\nfeet became natural again, and I became myself as I had been before\npassing through the hideous ordeal. The fact of my deliverance from the\nearth caverns had, I now realized, been followed by temporary aberration\nof my mind, but at last I saw clearly again, the painful fancy had\npassed, the delirium was over.\n\nI fell upon my knees in thankfulness; the misery through which I had\npassed had proven to be illusory, the earth caverns were beneath me, the\nmirage and temptations were not real, the horrors I had experienced were\nimaginary--thank God for all this--and that the sand was really sand.\nSolitary, alone, I kneeled in the desert barren, from horizon to horizon\ndesolation only surrounded, and yet the scene of that illimitable waste,\na fearful reality, it is true, was sweet in comparison with the misery\nof body and soul about which I had dreamed so vividly.\n\n\"'Tis no wonder,\" I said to myself, \"that in the moment of transition\nfrom the underground caverns to the sunshine above, the shock should\nhave disturbed my mental equilibrium, and in the moment of reaction I\nshould have dreamed fantastic and horrible imaginings.\"\n\nA cool and refreshing breeze sprung now, from I know not where; I did\nnot care to ask; it was too welcome a gift to question, and contrasted\npleasantly with the misery of my past hallucination. The sun was shining\nhot above me, the sand was glowing, parched beneath me, and yet the\ngrateful breeze fanned my brow, and refreshed my spirit.\n\n\"Thank God,\" I cried, \"for the breeze, for the coolness that it brings;\nonly those who have experienced the silence of the cavern solitudes\nthrough which I have passed, and added thereto, have sensed the horrors\nof the more recent nightmare scenes, can appreciate the delights of a\ngust of air.\"\n\nThe incongruity of surrounding conditions, as connected with affairs\nrational, did not appeal at all to my questioning senses, it seemed as\nthough the cool breeze, coming from out the illimitable desolation of a\nheated waste was natural. I arose and walked on, refreshed. From out\nthat breeze my physical self drew refreshment and strength.\n\n\"'Tis the cold,\" I said; \"the blessed antithesis of heat, that supports\nlife. Heat enervates, cold stimulates; heat depresses, cold animates.\nThank God for breezes, winds, waters, cold.\"\n\nI turned and faced the gladsome breeze. \"'Tis the source of life, I will\ntrace it to its origin, I will leave the accursed desert, the hateful\nsunshine, and seek the blissful regions that give birth to cool\nbreezes.\"\n\nI walked rapidly, and the breeze became more energetic and cooler. With\neach increase of momentum on my part, corresponding strength seemed to\nbe added to the breeze--both strength and coolness.\n\n\"Is not this delightful?\" I murmured; \"my God at last has come to be a\njust God. Knowing what I wanted, He sent the breeze; in answer to my\nprayer the cool, refreshing breeze arose. Damn the heat,\" I cried aloud,\nas I thought of the horrid day before; \"blessed be the cold,\" and as\nthough in answer to my cry the breeze stiffened and the cold\nstrengthened itself, and I again returned thanks to my Creator.\n\nWith ragged coat wrapped about my form I faced the breeze and strode\nonward towards the home of the gelid wind that now dashed in gusts\nagainst my person.\n\nThen I heard my footstep crunch, and perceived that the sand was hard\nbeneath my feet; I stooped over to examine it and found it frozen.\nStrange, I reflected, strange that dry sand can freeze, and then I\nnoticed, for the first time, that spurts of snow surrounded me, 'twas a\nsleety mixture upon which I trod, a crust of snow and sand. A sense of\ndread came suddenly over me, and instinctively I turned, affrighted, and\nran away from the wind, towards the desert behind me, back towards the\nsun, which, cold and bleak, low in the horizon, was sinking. The sense\nof dread grew upon me, and I shivered as I ran. With my back towards the\nbreeze I had blessed, I now fled towards the sinking sun I had cursed. I\nstretched out my arms in supplication towards that orb, for from behind\noverhanging blackness spread, and about me roared a fearful hurricane.\nVainly. As I thought in mockery the heartless sun disappeared before my\ngaze, the hurricane surrounded me, and the wind about me became\nintensely cold, and raved furiously. It seemed as though the sun had\nfled from my presence, and with the disappearance of that orb, the\noutline of the earth was blotted from existence. It was an awful\nblackness, and the universe was now to me a blank. The cold strengthened\nand froze my body to the marrow of my bones. First came the sting of\nfrost, then the pain of cold, then insensibility of flesh. My feet were\nbenumbed, my limbs motionless. I stood a statue, quiescent in the midst\nof the roaring tempest. The earth, the sun, the heavens themselves, my\nvery person now had disappeared. Dead to the sense of pain or touch,\nsightless, amid a blank, only the noise of the raging winds was to me a\nreality. And as the creaking frost reached my brain and congealed it,\nthe sound of the tempest ceased, and then devoid of physical senses, my\nquickened intellect, enslaved, remained imprisoned in the frozen form it\ncould not leave, and yet could no longer control.\n\nReflection after reflection passed through that incarcerated thought\nentity, and as I meditated, the heinous mistakes I had committed in the\nlife that had passed, arose to torment. God had answered my\nsupplications, successively I had experienced the hollowness of earthly\npleasures, and had left each lesson unheeded. Had I not alternately\nbegged for and then cursed each gift of God? Had I not prayed for heat,\ncold, light, and darkness, and anathematized each? Had I not, when in\nperfect silence, prayed for sound; in sheltered caverns, prayed for\nwinds and storms; in the very corridors of heaven, and in the presence\nof Etidorhpa, had I not sought for joys beyond?\n\nHad I not found each pleasure of life a mockery, and notwithstanding\neach bitter lesson, still pursued my headstrong course, alternately\nblessing and cursing my Creator, and then myself, until now, amid a\nhowling waste, in perfect darkness, my conscious intellect was bound to\nthe frozen, rigid semblance of a body? All about me was dead and dark,\nall within was still and cold, only my quickened intellect remained as\nin every corpse the self-conscious intellect must remain, while the body\nhas a mortal form, for death of body is not attended by the immediate\nliberation of mind. The consciousness of the dead man is still acute,\nand he who thinks the dead are mindless, will realize his fearful error\nwhen devoid of motion he lies a corpse, conscious of all that passes on\naround him, waiting the liberation that can only come by disintegration\nand destruction of the flesh.\n\nSo, unconscious of pain, unconscious of any physical sense, I existed on\nand on, enthralled, age after age passed and piled upon one another, for\ntime was to me unchangeable, no more an entity. I now prayed for change\nof any kind, and envied the very devils in hell their pleasures, for\nwere they not gifted with the power of motion, could they not hear, and\nsee, and realize the pains they suffered? I prayed for death--death\nabsolute, death eternal. Then, at last, the darkness seemed to lessen,\nand I saw the frozen earth beneath, the monstrous crags of ice above,\nthe raging tempest about, for I now had learned by reflection to\nperceive by pure intellect, to see by the light within. My body, solid\nas stone, was fixed and preserved in a waste of ice. The world was\nfrozen. I perceived that the sun, and moon, and stars, nearly stilled,\ndim and motionless, had paled in the cold depths of space. The universe\nitself was freezing, and amid the desolation only my deserted intellect\nremained. Age after age had passed, aeons of ages had fled, nation after\nnation had grown and perished, and in the uncounted epochs behind,\nhumanity had disappeared. Unable to free itself from the frozen body, my\nown intellect remained the solitary spectator of the dead silence about.\nAt last, beneath my vision, the moon disappeared, the stars faded one by\none, and then I watched the sun grow dim, until at length only a milky,\ngauze-like film remained to indicate her face, and then--vacancy. I had\nlived the universe away. And in perfect darkness the living intellect,\nconscious of all that had transpired in the ages past, clung still\nenthralled to the body of the frozen mortal. I thought of my record in\nthe distant past, of the temptations I had undergone, and called myself\na fool, for, had I listened to the tempter, I could at least have\nsuffered, I could have had companionship even though it were of the\ndevils--in hell. I lived my life over and over, times without number; I\nthought of my tempters, of the offered cups, and thinking, argued with\nmyself:\n\n\"No,\" I said; \"no, I had made the promise, I have faith in Etidorhpa,\nand were it to do over again I would not drink.\"\n\nThen, as this thought sped from me, the ice scene dissolved, the\nenveloped frozen form of myself faded from view, the sand shrunk into\nnothingness, and with my natural body, and in normal condition, I found\nmyself back in the earth cavern, on my knees, beside the curious\ninverted fungus, of which fruit I had eaten in obedience to my guide's\ndirections. Before me the familiar figure of my guide stood, with folded\narms, and as my gaze fell upon him he reached out his hand and raised me\nto my feet.\n\n\"Where have you been during the wretched epochs that have passed since I\nlast saw you?\" I asked.\n\n\"I have been here,\" he replied, \"and you have been there.\"\n\n\"You lie, you villainous sorcerer,\" I cried; \"you lie again as you have\nlied to me before. I followed you to the edge of demon land, to the\ncaverns of the drunkards, and then you deserted me. Since last we met I\nhave spent a million, billion years of agony inexpressible, and have had\nthat agony made doubly horrible by contrast with the thought, yes, the\nvery sight and touch of Heaven. I passed into a double eternity, and\nhave experienced the ecstacies of the blessed, and suffered the torments\nof the damned, and now you dare boldly tell me that I have been here,\nand that you have been there, since last I saw you stand by this cursed\nfungus bowl.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, taking no offense at my violence; \"yes, neither of us\nhas left this spot; you have sipped of the drink of an earth-damned\ndrunkard, you have experienced part of the curses of intemperance, the\ndelirium of narcotics. Thousands of men on earth, in their drunken\nhallucination, have gone through hotter hells than you have seen; your\ndream has not exaggerated the sufferings of those who sup of the\ndelirium of intemperance.\"\n\nAnd then he continued:\n\n\"Let me tell you of man's conception of eternity.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLII.\n\n ETERNITY WITHOUT TIME.\n\n\n\"Man's conception of eternity is that of infinite duration, continuance\nwithout beginning or end, and yet everything he knows is bounded by two\nor more opposites. From a beginning, as he sees a form of matter, that\nsubstance passes to an end.\" Thus spoke my guide.\n\nThen he asked, and showed by his question that he appreciated the nature\nof my recent experiences: \"Do you recall the instant that you left me\nstanding by this bowl to start, as you imagined, with me as a companion,\non the journey to the cavern of the grotesque?\"\n\n\"No; because I did not leave you. I sipped of the liquid, and then you\nmoved on with me from this spot; we were together, until at last we were\nseparated on the edge of the cave of drunkards.\"\n\n\"Listen,\" said he; \"I neither left you nor went with you. You neither\nwent from this spot nor came back again. You neither saw nor experienced\nmy presence nor my absence; there was no beginning to your journey.\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"You ate of the narcotic fungus; you have been intoxicated.\"\n\n\"I have not,\" I retorted. \"I have been through your accursed caverns,\nand into hell beyond. I have been consumed by eternal damnation in the\njourney, have experienced a heaven of delight, and also an eternity of\nmisery.\"\n\n\"Upon the contrary, the time that has passed since you drank the liquid\ncontents of that fungus fruit has only been that which permitted you to\nfall upon your knees. You swallowed the liquor when I handed you the\nshell cup; you dropped upon your knees, and then instantly awoke. See,\"\nhe said; \"in corroboration of my assertion the shell of the fungus fruit\nat your feet is still dripping with the liquid you did not drink. Time\nhas been annihilated. Under the influence of this potent earth-bred\nnarcoto-intoxicant, your dream begun inside of eternity; you did not\npass into it.\"\n\n\"You say,\" I interrupted, \"that I dropped upon my knees, that I have\nexperienced the hallucination of intoxication, that the experiences of\nmy vision occurred during the second of time that was required for me to\ndrop upon my knees.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then by your own argument you demonstrate that eternity requires time,\nfor even a millionth part of a second is time, as much so as a million\nof years.\"\n\n\"You mistake,\" he replied, \"you misinterpret my words. I said that all\nyou experienced in your eternity of suffering and pleasure, occurred\nbetween the point when you touched the fungus fruit to your lips, and\nthat when your knees struck the stone.\"\n\n\"That consumed time,\" I answered.\n\n\"Did I assert,\" he questioned, \"that your experiences were scattered\nover that entire period?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"May not all that occurred to your mind have been crushed into the\nsecond that accompanied the mental impression produced by the liquor, or\nthe second of time that followed, or any other part of that period, or a\nfraction of any integral second of that period?\"\n\n\"I can not say,\" I answered, \"what part of the period the hallucination,\nas you call it, occupied.\"\n\n\"You admit that so far as your conception of time is concerned, the\noccurrences to which you refer may have existed in either an inestimable\nfraction of the first, the second, or the third part of the period.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied, \"yes; if you are correct in that, they were\nillusions.\"\n\n\"Let me ask you furthermore,\" he said; \"are you sure that the flash that\nbred your hallucination was not instantaneous, and a part of neither the\nfirst, second, nor third second?\"\n\n\"Continue your argument.\"\n\n\"I will repeat a preceding question with a slight modification. May not\nall that occurred to your mind have been crushed into the space between\nthe second of time that preceded the mental impression produced by the\nliquor, and the second that followed it? Need it have been a part of\neither second, or of time at all? Indeed, could it have been a part of\ntime if it were instantaneous?\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"Suppose the entity that men call the soul of man were in process of\nseparation from the body. The process you will admit would occupy time,\nuntil the point of liberation was reached. Would not dissolution, so far\nas the separation of matter and spirit is concerned at its critical\npoint be instantaneous?\"\n\nI made no reply.\n\n\"If the critical point is instantaneous, there would be no beginning,\nthere could be no end. Therein rests an eternity greater than man can\notherwise conceive of, for as there is neither beginning nor end, time\nand space are annihilated. The line that separates the soul that is in\nthe body from the soul that is out of the body is outside of all things.\nIt is a between, neither a part of the nether side nor of the upper\nside; it is outside the here and the hereafter. Let us carry this\nthought a little further,\" said he. \"Suppose a good man were to undergo\nthis change, could not all that an eternity of happiness might offer be\ncrushed into this boundless conception, the critical point? All that a\nmother craves in children dead, could reappear again in their once loved\nforms; all that a good life earns, would rest in the soul's experience\nin that eternity, but not as an illusion, although no mental pleasure,\nno physical pain is equal to that of hallucinations. Suppose that a\nvicious life were ended, could it escape the inevitable critical point?\nWould not that life in its previous journey create its own sad eternity?\nYou have seen the working of an eternity with an end but not a beginning\nto it, for you can not sense the commencement of your vision. You have\nbeen in the cavern of the grotesque,--the realms of the beautiful, and\nhave walked over the boundless sands that bring misery to the soul, and\nhave, as a statue, seen the frozen universe dissolve. You are thankful\nthat it was all an illusion as you deem it now; what would you think had\nonly the heavenly part been spread before you?\"\n\n\"I would have cursed the man who dispelled the illusion,\" I answered.\n\n\"Then,\" he said, \"you are willing to admit that men who so live as to\ngain such an eternity, be it mental illusion, hallucination or real,\nmake no mistake in life.\"\n\n\"I do,\" I replied; \"but you confound me when you argue in so cool a\nmanner that eternity may be everlasting to the soul, and yet without the\nconception of time.\"\n\n\"Did I not teach you in the beginning of this journey,\" he interjected,\n\"that time is not as men conceive it. Men can not grasp an idea of\neternity and retain their sun bred, morning and evening, conception of\ntime. Therein lies their error. As the tip of the whip-lash passes with\nthe lash, so through life the soul of man proceeds with the body. As\nthere is a point just when the tip of the whip-lash is on the edge of\nits return, where all motion of the line that bounds the tip ends, so\nthere is a motionless point when the soul starts onward from the body of\nman. As the tip of the whip-lash sends its cry through space, not while\nit is in motion either way, but from the point where motion ceases, the\nspaceless, timeless point that lies between the backward and the\nforward, so the soul of man leaves a cry (eternity) at the critical\npoint. It is the death echo, and thus each snap of the life-thread\nthrows an eternity, its own eternity, into eternity's seas, and each\neternity is made up of the entities thus cast from the critical point.\nWith the end of each soul's earth journey, a new eternity springs into\nexistence, occupying no space, consuming no time, and not conflicting\nwith any other, each being exactly what the soul-earth record makes it,\nan eternity of joy (heaven), or an eternity of anguish (hell). There can\nbe no neutral ground.\"\n\nThen he continued:\n\n\"The drunkard is destined to suffer in the drunkard's eternity, as you\nhave suffered; the enticement of drink is evanescent, the agony to\nfollow is eternal. You have seen that the sub-regions of earth supply an\nintoxicant. Taste not again of any intoxicant; let your recent lesson be\nyour last. Any stimulant is an enemy to man, any narcotic is a fiend. It\ndestroys its victim, and corrupts the mind, entices it into pastures\ngrotesque, and even pleasant at first, but destined to eternal misery in\nthe end. Beware of the eternity that follows the snapping of the\nlife-thread of a drunkard. Come,\" he abruptly said, \"we will pursue our\njourney.\"\n\n [NOTE.--Morphine, belladonna, hyoscyamus and cannabis indica are\n narcotics, and yet each differs in its action from the others.\n Alcohol and methyl alcohol are intoxicants; ether, chloroform,\n and chloral are anaesthetics, and yet no two are possessed of the\n same qualities. Is there any good reason to doubt that\n combinations of the elements as yet hidden from man can not cause\n hallucinations that combine and intensify the most virulent of\n narcotics, intoxicants, and anaesthetics, and pall the effects of\n hashish or of opium?\n\n If, in the course of experimentation, a chemist should strike\n upon a compound that in traces only would subject his mind and\n drive his pen to record such seemingly extravagant ideas as are\n found in the hallucinations herein pictured, would it not be his\n duty to bury the discovery from others, to cover from mankind the\n existence of such a noxious fruit of the chemist's or\n pharmaceutist's art? Introduce such an intoxicant, and start it\n to ferment in humanity's blood, and before the world were advised\n of its possible results, might not the ever increasing potency\n gain such headway as to destroy, or debase, our civilization, and\n even to exterminate mankind?--J. U. L.]\n\n\n\n\nINTERLUDE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIII.\n\n THE LAST CONTEST.\n\n\nI, Lewellyn Drury, had been so absorbed in the fantastic story the old\nman read so fluently from the execrably written manuscript, and in the\nmetaphysical argument which followed his account of the vision he had\nintroduced so artfully as to lead me to think it was a part of his\nnarrative, that I scarcely noted the passage of time. Upon seeing him\nsuspend his reading, fold the manuscript, and place it in his pocket, I\nreverted to material things, and glancing at the clock, perceived that\nthe hands pointed to bed-time.\n\n\"To-morrow evening,\" said he, \"I will return at nine o'clock. In the\ninterim, if you still question any part of the story, or wish further\ninformation on any subject connected with my journey, I will be prepared\nto answer your queries. Since, however, that will be your last\nopportunity, I suggest that you make notes of all subjects that you wish\nto discuss.\"\n\nThen, in his usual self-possessed, exquisitely polite manner, he bowed\nhimself out.\n\nI spent the next day reviewing the most questionable features of his\nhistory, recalling the several statements that had been made.\nRemembering the humiliation I had experienced in my previous attempts to\nconfute him, I determined to select such subjects as would appear the\nmost difficult to explain, and to attack the old man with vehemence.\n\nI confess, that notwithstanding my several failures, and his successful\nand constant elucidation and minute details in regard to occurrences\nwhich he related, and which anticipated many points I had once had in\nmind to question, misgivings still possessed me concerning the\ntruthfulness of the story. If these remarkable episodes were true,\ncould there be such a thing as fiction? If not all true, where did fact\nend and fancy begin?\n\nAccordingly I devoted the following day to meditating my plan of attack,\nfor I felt that I had been challenged to a final contest. Late the next\nday, I felt confident of my own ability to dispossess him, and in order\nfurther to test his power, when night came I doubly locked the door to\nmy room, first with the key and next with the inside bolt. I had\ndetermined to force him again to induce inert material to obey his\ncommand, as he had done at our first interview. The reader will remember\nthat Prof. Chickering had deemed that occurrence an illusion, and I\nconfess that time had dimmed the vividness of the scene in my own mind.\nHence I proposed to verify the matter. Therefore, at the approach of\nnine o'clock, the evening following, I sat with my gaze riveted on the\nbolt of the door, determined not to answer his knock.\n\nHe gave me no chance to neglect a response to his rap. Exactly at the\nstroke of nine the door swung noiselessly on its hinges, the wizard\nentered, and the door closed again. The bolt had not moved, the knob did\nnot turn. The bar passed through the catch and back to its seat,--I\nsprung from my chair, and excitedly and rudely rushed past my guest. I\ngrasped the knob, wrenched it with all my might. Vainly; the door was\nlocked, the bolt was fastened. Then I turned to my visitor. He was\nquietly seated in his accustomed place, and apparently failed to notice\nmy discomposure, although he must have realized that he had withstood my\nfirst test.\n\nThis pronounced defeat, at the very beginning of our proposed contest,\nproduced a depressing effect; nevertheless I made an effort at\nself-control, and seating myself opposite, looked my antagonist in the\nface. Calm, dignified, with the brow of a philosopher, and the\ncountenance of a philanthropist, a perfect type of the exquisite\ngentleman, and the cultured scholar, my guest, as serene and complacent\nas though, instead of an intruder, he were an invited participant of the\ncomforts of my fireside, or even the host himself, laid his hat upon the\ntable, stroked his silvery, translucent beard, and said:\n\n\"Well?\"\n\nI accepted the challenge, for the word, as he emphasized it, was a\nchallenge, and hurled at him, in hopes to catch him unprepared, the\nfollowing abrupt sentence:\n\n\"I doubt the possibility of the existence of a great cavern such as you\nhave described. The superincumbent mass of earth would crush the\nstrongest metal. No material known to man could withstand a pressure so\ngreat as would overlie an arch as large as that you depict; material\nwould succumb even if the roof were made of steel.\"\n\n\"Do not be so positive,\" he replied. \"By what authority do you make this\nassertion?\"\n\n\"By the authority of common sense as opposed to an unreasonable\nhypothesis. You should know that there is a limit to the strength of all\nthings, and that no substance is capable of making an arch of thousands\nof miles, which, according to your assertion, must have been the\ndiameter of the roof of your inland sea.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" he replied, \"and so you again crush my facts with your theory.\nWell, let me ask a question.\"\n\n\"Proceed.\"\n\n\"Did you ever observe a bubble resting on a bubble?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Did you ever place a pipe-stem in a partly filled bowl of soap water,\nand by blowing through it fill the bowl with bubbles?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Did you ever calculate the tensile strength of the material from which\nyou blew the bubble?\"\n\n\"No; for soap water has no appreciable strength.\"\n\n\"And yet you know that a bubble made of suds has not only strength, but\nelasticity. Suppose a bubble of energy floating in space were to be\ncovered to the depth of the thickness of a sheet of tissue paper with\nthe dust of space, would that surprise you?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Suppose two such globes of energy, covered with dust, were to be\ntelescoped or attached together, would you marvel at the fact?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nHe drew a picture on a piece of paper, in which one line was inclosed by\nanother, and remarked:\n\n\"The pencil mark on this paper is proportionately thicker than the crust\nof the earth over the earth cavern I have described. Even if it were\nmade of soap suds, it could revolve through space and maintain its\ncontour.\"\n\n\"But the earth is a globe,\" I interjected.\n\n\"You do not mean an exact globe?\"\n\n\"No; it is flattened at the poles.\"\n\nHe took from his pocket two thin rubber balls, one slightly larger than\nthe other. With his knife he divided the larger ball, cutting it into\nhalves. He then placed one of the sections upon the perfect ball, and\nheld the arrangement between the gas light and the wall.\n\n[Illustration: FIG. 33. A A, telescoped energy spheres.]\n\n\"See; is not the shadow flattened, as your earth is, at the poles?\"\n\n\"Yes; but the earth is not a shadow.\"\n\n\"We will not argue that point now,\" he replied, and then asked: \"Suppose\nsuch a compound shell as this were to revolve through space and\ncontinuously collect dust, most of it of the earth's temperature,\nforming a fluid (water), would not that dust be propelled naturally from\nthe poles?\"\n\n\"Yes; according to our theory.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" said he, \"the contact edge of the invisible spheres of energy\nwhich compose your earth bubbles, for planets are bubbles, that have\nbeen covered with water and soil during the time the energy bubble,\nwhich is the real bone of the globe, has been revolving through space;\nperhaps, could you reach the foundation of the earth dust, you would\nfind it not a perfect sphere, but a compound skeleton, as of two bubbles\nlocked, or rather telescoped together. [See Fig. 34.]\n\n\"Are you sure that my guide did not lead me through the space between\nthe bubbles?\"\n\nThen he continued:\n\n\"Do not be shocked at what I am about to assert, for, as a member of\nmaterialistic humanity, you will surely consider me irrational when I\nsay that matter, materials, ponderous substances, one and all, so far as\nthe ponderous part is concerned have no strength.\"\n\n\"What! no strength?\"\n\n\"None whatever.\"\n\nI grasped the poker.\n\n\"Is not this matter?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I can not break it.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Have not I strength?\"\n\n\"Confine your argument now to the poker; we will consider you next. You\ncan not break it.\"\n\n\"I can break this pencil, though,\" and I snapped it in his face.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nI curled my lip in disdain.\n\n\"You carry this argument too far.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I can break the pencil, I can not break the poker; had these materials\nnot different strengths there could be no distinction; had I no strength\nI could not have broken either.\"\n\n\"Are you ready to listen?\" he replied.\n\n\"Yes; but do not exasperate me.\"\n\n\"I did not say that the combination you call a poker had no strength,\nneither did I assert that you could not break a pencil.\"\n\n\"A distinction without a difference; you play upon words.\"\n\n\"I said that matter, the ponderous side of material substances, has no\nstrength.\"\n\n\"And I say differently.\"\n\nHe thrust the end of the poker into the fire, and soon drew it forth\nred-hot.\n\n\"Is it as strong as before?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Heat it to whiteness and it becomes plastic.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 34. B B, telescoped energy spheres covered with\nspace dirt, inclosing space between.]\n\n\"Heat it still more and it changes to a liquid.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Has liquid iron strength?\"\n\n\"Very little, if any.\"\n\n\"Is it still matter?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Is it the material of the iron, or is it the energy called heat that\nqualifies the strength of the metal? It seems to me that were I in your\nplace I would now argue that absence of heat constitutes strength,\" he\nsarcastically continued.\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"Cool this red-hot poker by thrusting it into a pail of cold water, and\nit becomes very hard and brittle.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Cool it slowly, and it is comparatively soft and plastic.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"The material is the same, is it not?\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"What strength has charcoal?\"\n\n\"Scarcely any.\"\n\n\"Crystallize it, and the diamond results.\"\n\n\"I did not speak of diamond.\"\n\n\"Ah! and is not the same amount of the same material present in each, a\ngrain of diamond and a grain of charcoal? What is present in a grain of\ndiamond that is not present in a grain of charcoal?\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"Answer my question.\"\n\n\"I can not.\"\n\n\"Why does brittle, cold zinc, when heated, become first ductile, and\nthen, at an increased temperature, become brittle again? In each case\nthe same material is present.\"\n\n\"I do not know; but this I do know: I am an organized being, and I have\nstrength of body.\"\n\nThe old man grasped the heavy iron poker with both hands, and suddenly\nrising to his full height, swung it about his head, then with a motion\nso menacing that I shrunk back into my chair and cried out in alarm,\nseemed about to strike, with full force, my defenseless brow.\n\n\"My God,\" I shouted, \"what have I done that you should murder me?\"\n\nHe lowered the weapon, and calmly asked:\n\n\"Suppose that I had crushed your skull--where then would be your vaunted\nstrength?\"\n\nI made no reply, for as yet I had not recovered from the mental shock.\n\n\"Could you then have snapped a pencil? Could you have broken a reed?\nCould you even have blown the down from a thistle bloom?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Would not your material body have been intact?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Listen,\" said he. \"Matter has no strength, matter obeys spirit, and\nspirit dominates all things material. Energy in some form holds\nparticles of matter together, and energy in other forms loosens them.\n'Tis this imponderable force that gives strength to substances, not the\nponderable side of the material. Granite crushed is still granite, but\ndestitute of rigidity. Creatures dead are still organic structures, but\ndevoid of strength or motion. The spirit that pervades all material\nthings gives to them form and existence. Take from your earth its vital\nspirit, the energy that subjects matter, and your so-called adamantine\nrocks would disintegrate, and sift as dust into the interstices of\nspace. Your so-called rigid globe, a shell of space dust, would\ndissolve, collapse, and as the spray of a burst bubble, its ponderous\nside would vanish in the depths of force.\"\n\nI sat motionless.\n\n\"Listen,\" he repeated. \"You wrong your own common sense when you place\ndead matter above the spirit of matter. Atoms come and go in their\nceaseless transmigrations, worlds move, universes circulate, not because\nthey are material bodies, but because as points of matter, in a flood of\nforce, they obey the spirit that can blot out a sun, or dissolve the\nearth, as easily as it can unlink two atoms. Matter is an illusion,\nspirit is the reality.\"\n\nI felt that he had silenced me against my will, and although I could not\ngainsay his assertions, I determined to study the subject carefully, at\nmy leisure.\n\n\"As you please,\" he interjected into my musings; \"but since you are so\ndetermined, you would better study from books that are written by\nauthors who know whereof they write, and who are not obliged to theorize\nfrom speculative data concerning the intrastructural earth crust.\"\n\n\"But where can I find such works? I do not know of any.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said he, \"perhaps it would be better to cease doubting the word\nof one who has acquired the knowledge to write such a book, and who has\nno object in misleading you.\"\n\n\"Still other questions arise,\" I said.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"I consider the account of the intra-earth fungus intoxicant beyond the\nrealm of fact.\"\n\n\"In what respect?\"\n\n\"The perfect loss of self that resulted immediately, in an instant,\nafter swallowing the juice of the fungous fruit, so that you could not\ndistinguish between the real guide at your side and the phantom that\nsprung into existence, is incredible. [See p. 234.] An element of time\nis a factor in the operation of nerve impressions.\"[12]\n\n [12] It is well that reference was made to this point. Few readers\n would probably notice that Chapter XXXVI. begun a narcotic\n hallucination.--J. U. L.\n\n\"Have you investigated all possible anaesthetics?\" he asked.\n\n\"Of course not.\"\n\n\"Or all possible narcotics?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"How long does it require for pure prussic acid to produce its\nphysiological action?\"\n\n\"I do not know.\"\n\nHe ignored my reply, and continued:\n\n\"Since there exists a relative difference between the time that is\nrequired for ether and chloroform to produce insensibility, and between\nthe actions and resultant effects of all known anaesthetics, intoxicants,\nand narcotics, I think you are hypercritical. Some nerve excitants known\nto you act slowly, others quickly; why not others still instantaneously?\nIf you can rest your assertion on any good basis, I will gladly meet\nyour questions, but I do not accept such evidence as you now introduce,\nand I do not care to argue for both parties.\"\n\nAgain I was becoming irritated, for I was not satisfied with the manner\nin which I upheld my part of the argument, and naturally, as is usually\nthe case with the defeated party, became incensed at my invincible\nantagonist.\n\n\"Well,\" I said, \"I criticise your credulity. The drunkards of the\ndrunkards' cavern were beyond all credence. I can not conceive of such\nabnormal creations, even in illusion. Had I met with your experiences I\nwould not have supposed, for an instant, that the fantastic shapes could\nhave been aught but a dream, or the result of hallucination, while,\nwithout a question, you considered them real.\"\n\n\"You are certainly pressed for subjects about which to complain when you\nresort to criticising the possibilities in creations of a mind under the\ninfluence of a more powerful intoxicant than is known to surface earth,\"\nhe remarked. \"However, I will show you that nature fashions animals in\nforms more fantastic than I saw, and that even these figures were not\noverdrawn--\"\n\nWithout heeding his remark, I interrupted his discourse, determined to\nhave my say:\n\n\"And I furthermore question the uncouth personage you describe as your\nguide. Would you have me believe that such a being has an existence\noutside an abnormal thought-creation?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" he replied, \"you have done well to ask these two questions in\nsuccession, for you permit me to answer both at once. Listen: The\nMonkey, of all animals, seems to approach closest to man in figure, the\nSiamang Gibon of Asia, the Bald-headed Saki of South America, with its\nstub of a tail, being nearest. From these types we have great deviations\nas in the Wanderer of India, with its whiskered face, and the Black\nMacaque of the Island of Celebes, with its hairy topknot, and hairless\nstub of a tail, or the well-known Squirrel Monkey, with its long supple\ntail, and the Thumbless Spider Monkey, of South America. Between these\ntypes we have among monkeys, nearly every conceivable shape of limb and\nfigure, and in color of their faces and bodies, all the shades of the\nrainbow.\n\n\"Some Squirrels jump and then sail through the air. The Sloth can barely\nmove on the earth. Ant-eaters have no teeth at all, while the Grizzly\nBear can crush a gun barrel with its molars.\n\n\"The Duck-billed Platypus of South Australia has the body of a mole, the\ntail of a raccoon, the flat bill of a duck, and the flipper of a seal,\ncombined with the feet of a rat. It lays eggs as birds do, but suckles\nits young as do other mammalia. The Opossum has a prehensile tail, as\nhave some monkeys, and in addition a living bag or pouch in which the\nfemale carries her tiny young. The young of a kind of tree frog of the\ngenus Hylodes, breathe through a special organ in their tails; the young\nof the Pipa, a great South American toad, burrow into the skin of the\nmother, and still another from Chili, as soon as hatched, creep down the\nthroat of the father frog, and find below the jaw an opening into a\nfalse membrane covering the entire abdomen, in which they repose in\nsafety. Three species of frogs and toads have no tongue at all, while in\nall the others the tongue is attached by its tip to the end of the\nmouth, and is free behind. The ordinary Bullfrog has conspicuous great\nlegs, while a relative, the Coecilia (and others as well) have a head\nreminding of the frog, but neither tail nor legs, the body being\nelongated as if it were a worm. The long, slender fingers of a Bat are\nunited by means of a membrane that enables it to fly like a bird, while\nas a contrast, the fingers of a Mole, its near cousin, are short and\nstubby, and massive as compared with its frame. The former flies through\nthe air, the latter burrows (almost flies) through the earth. The Great\nAnt-eater has a curved head which is drawn out into a slender snout, no\nteeth, a long, slender tongue, a great bushy tail, and claws that\nneither allow the creature to burrow in the earth nor climb into trees,\nbut which are admirably adapted to tear an ant-hill into fragments. Its\nclose relatives, the Apar and Armadillo, have a round body covered with\nbony plates, and a short, horny, curved tail, while another relative,\nthe Long-tailed Pangolin, has a great alligator-like tail which,\ntogether with its body, is covered with horny, overlapping scales.\n\n\"The Greenland Whale has an enormous head occupying more than one-third\nits length, no teeth, and a throat scarcely larger than that of a sucker\nfish. The Golden Mole has a body so nearly symmetrical that, were it not\nfor the snout, it would be difficult to determine the location of the\nhead without close inspection, and it has legs so short that, were it\nnot for the powerful claws, they would not be observed at all. The\nNarwhal has a straight, twisted tusk, a--\"\n\n\"Hold, hold,\" I interrupted; \"do you think that I am concerned in these\nwell known contrasts in animal structure?\"\n\n\"Did you not question the possibility of the description I gave of my\ngrotesque drunkards, and of the form of my subterranean guide?\" my guest\nretorted.\n\n\"Yes; but I spoke of men, you describe animals.\"\n\n\"Man is an animal, and between the various species of animals that you\nsay are well known, greater distinctions can be drawn than between my\nguide and surface-earth man. Besides, had you allowed me to proceed to a\ndescription of animal life beneath the surface of the earth, I would\nhave shown you that my guide partook of their attributes. Of the\ncreatures described, one only was of the intra-earth origin--the\nMole,--and like my guide, it is practically eyeless.\"\n\n\"Go on,\" I said; \"'tis useless for me to resist. And yet--\"\n\n\"And yet what?\"\n\n\"And yet I have other subjects to discuss.\"\n\n\"Proceed.\"\n\n\"I do not like the way in which you constantly criticise science,\nespecially in referring thereto the responsibilities of the crazed\nanatomist.[13] It seems to me that he was a monomaniac, gifted, but\ncrazed, and that science was unfortunate in being burdened with such an\nincubus.\"\n\n [13] This section (see p. 190) was excised, being too\n painful.--J. U. L.\n\n\"True, and yet science advances largely by the work of such apparently\nheartless creatures. Were it not for investigators who overstep the\nbounds of established methods, and thus criticise their predecessors,\nscience would rust and disintegrate. Besides, why should not science be\njudged by the rule she applies to others?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Who is more free to criticise religion than the materialistic man of\nscience?\"\n\n\"But a religious man is not cruel.\"\n\n\"Have you not read history? Have you not shuddered at the crimes\nrecorded in the name of the religions of man?\"\n\n\"Yes; but these cruelties were committed by misguided men under the\ncloak of the church, or of false religions, during the dark ages. Do not\nblame religion, but the men who abused the cause.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he added, \"you are right; they were fanatics, crazed beings, men;\nyes, even communities, raving mad. Crazed leaders can infuse the minds\nof the people with their fallacies, and thus become leaders of crazed\nnations. Not, as I have depicted in my scientific enthusiast, one man\nalone in the privacy of his home torturing a single child, but whole\nnations pillaging, burning, torturing, and destroying. But this is\nforeign to our subject. Beware, I reiterate, of the science of human\nbiology. The man who enters the field can not foresee the end, the man\nwho studies the science of life, and records his experiments, can not\nknow the extremes to which a fanatical follower may carry the\nthought-current of his leader. I have not overdrawn the lesson. Besides,\nscience is now really torturing, burning, maiming, and destroying\nhumanity. The act of destruction has been transferred from barbarians\nand the fanatic in religion to the follower of the devotees of science.\"\n\n\"No; I say, no.\"\n\n\"Who created the steam engine? Who evolves improved machinery? Who\ncreates improved artillery, and explosives? Scientific men.\"\n\nHe hesitated.\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"Accumulate the maimed and destroyed each year; add together the\nmiseries and sorrows that result from the explosions, accidents, and\ncatastrophes resulting from science improvements, and the dark ages\nscarcely offer a parallel. Add thereto the fearful destruction that\nfollows a war among nations scientific, and it will be seen that the\nscientific enthusiast of the present has taken the place of the\nmisguided fanatic of the past. Let us be just. Place to the credit of\nreligion the good that religion has done, place to the credit of science\nthe good that science is doing, and yet do not mistake, both leave in\ntheir wake an atmosphere saturated with misery, a road whitened with\nhumanity's bones. Neither the young nor the old are spared, and so far\nas the sufferer is concerned it matters not whether the person has been\nracked by the tortures of an inquisition, or the sword of an infidel, is\nshrieking in the agony of a scald by super-heated steam, or is mangled\nby an explosion of nitroglycerin.\"\n\nAgain he hesitated.\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"One of science's most serious responsibilities, from which religion has\nnearly escaped, is that of supplying thought-food to fanatics, and from\nthis science can not escape.\"\n\n\"Explain yourself.\"\n\n\"Who places the infidel in possession of arguments to combat sacred\nteachings? Who deliberately tortures animals, and suggests that\nbiological experimentation in the name of science, before cultured\naudiences even, is legitimate, such as making public dissections of\nliving creatures?\"\n\n\"Enough, enough,\" I cried, thinking of his crazed anatomist, and\ncovering my face with my hands; \"you make my blood creep.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he added sarcastically; \"you shudder now and criticise my\ntruthful study, and to-morrow you will forget the lesson, and perhaps\nfor dinner you will relish your dish of veal, the favorite food of\nmothers, the nearest approach to the flesh of babies.\"\n\nThen his manner changed, and in his usual mild, pleasant way, he said:\n\n\"Take what I have said kindly; I wish only to induce your religious part\nto have more charity for your scientific self, and the reverse. Both\nreligion and science are working towards the good of man, although their\ndevotees are human, and by human errors bring privations, sufferings,\nand sorrows to men. Neither can fill the place of the other; each should\nextend a helping hand, and have charity for the shortcomings of the\nother; they are not antagonists, but workers in one field; both must\nstand the criticisms of mutual antagonists, and both have cause to fear\nthe evils of fanaticism within their own ranks more than the attacks of\nopponents from without. Let the religious enthusiast exercise care; his\nburning, earnest words may lead a weak-minded father to murder an\ninnocent family, and yet 'tis not religion that commits the crime. Let\nthe zealous scientific man hesitate; he piles up fuel by which minds\nunbalanced, or dispositions perverted, seek to burn and destroy hopes\nthat have long served the yearnings of humanity's soul. Neither pure\nreligion nor true science is to blame for the acts of its devotees, and\nyet each must share the responsibility of its human agents.\"\n\n\"We will discuss the subject no further,\" I said; \"it is not agreeable.\"\n\nThen I continued:\n\n\"The idea of eternity without time is not quite clear to me, although I\ncatch an imperfect conception of the argument advanced. Do you mean to\nsay that when a soul leaves the body, the earth life of the individual,\ndominated by the soul, is thrown off from it as is the snap of a\nwhip-lash, and that into the point between life and death, the hereafter\nof that mortal may be concentrated?\"\n\n\"I simply give you the words of my guide,\" he replied, \"but you have\nexpressed the idea about as well as your word language will admit. Such\na conception of eternity is more rational to one who, like myself, has\nlived through an instant that covered, so far as mind is concerned, a\nmillion years of time, than is an attempt to grasp a conception of an\neternity, without beginning or end, by basing an argument on conditions\ngoverning material substances, as these substances are known to man. You\nhave the germ of the idea which may be simply a thought for you to\nponder over; you can study the problem at your leisure. Do not, however,\nI warn you, attempt to comprehend the notion of eternity by throwing\ninto it the conception of time as men accept that term, for the very\nword time, as men define it, demands that there be both a beginning and\nan end. With the sense of time in one's mind, there can be no conception\nof the term eternity.\"\n\nThen, as I had so often done before, I unwarily gave him an opportunity\nto enlarge on his theme, to my disadvantage. I had determined not to ask\nany questions concerning his replies to my criticism, for whenever I had\npreviously done so, the result had been disastrous to me. In this case I\nunwittingly said:\n\n\"Why do you say that our language will not permit of clearer conceptions\nthan you give?\"\n\n\"Because your education does not permit you to think outside of words;\nyou are word-bound.\"\n\n\"You astonish me by making such an arrogant assertion. Do you mean to\nassert that I can not think without using words?\"\n\n\"Yes. Every thought you indulge in is circumscribed. You presumably\nattempt to throw a thought-line forward, and yet you step backward and\nspin it in words that have been handed you from the past, and, struggle\nas you may, you can not liberate yourself from the dead incubus. Attempt\nto originate an idea, and see if you can escape your word-master?\"\n\n\"Go on; I am listening.\"\n\n\"Men scientific think in language scientific. Men poetical think in\nlanguage poetic. All educated men use words in thinking of their\nsubjects, words that came to them from the past, and enslave their\nintellect. Thus it is that the novelist can not make fiction less real\nthan is fact; that scientists can not commence at the outside, and build\na theory back to phenomena understood. In each case the foundation of a\nthought is a word that in the very beginning carries to the mind a\nmeaning, a something from the past. Each thought ramification is an\noffshoot from words that express ideas and govern ideas, yes, create\nideas, even dominating the mind. Men speak of ideas when they intend to\nrefer to an image in the mind, but in reality they have no ideas outside\nof the word sentences they unconsciously reformulate. Define the term\nidea correctly, and it will be shown that an idea is a sentence, and if\na sentence is made of words already created, there can be no new idea,\nfor every word has a fixed meaning. Hence, when men think, they only\nrearrange words that carry with themselves networks of ideas, and thus\nplay upon their several established meanings. How can men so\ncircumscribed construct a new idea or teach a new science?\"\n\n\"New words are being created.\"\n\n\"Language is slowly progressing, but no new word adds itself to a\nlanguage; it is linked to thought-chains that precede. In order to\ncreate a word, as a rule, roots are used that are as established in\nphilology as are building materials in architecture. When a new sound is\nthrust into a language, its intent must be introduced by words already\nknown, after which it conveys a meaning derived from the past, and\nbecomes a part of mind sentences already constructed, as it does of\nspoken language. Language has thus been painfully and slowly evolved and\nis still being enlarged, but while new impressions may be felt by an\neducated person, the formulated feeling is inseparable, from well-known\nsurviving words.\"\n\n\"Some men are dumb.\"\n\n\"Yes; and yet they frame mind-impressions into unspoken words of their\nown, otherwise they would be scarcely more than animals. Place an\nuneducated dumb person in a room with a complicated instrument, and\nalthough he may comprehend its uses, he can not do so unless he frames\nsense-impressions into, what is to him, a formulated mind-word\nsequence.\"\n\n\"But he can think about it.\"\n\n\"No; unless he has already constructed previous impressions into\nword-meanings of his own, he can not think about it at all. Words,\nwhether spoken or unspoken, underlie all ideas. Try, if you believe I am\nmistaken, try to think of any subject outside of words?\"\n\nI sat a moment, and mentally attempted the task, and shook my head.\n\n\"Then,\" said the old man, \"how can I use words with established meanings\nto convey to your senses an entirely new idea? If I use new sounds,\nstrung together, they are not words to you, and convey no meaning; if I\nuse words familiar, they reach backward as well as forward. Thus it is\npossible to instruct you, by a laborious course of reasoning, concerning\na phenomenon that is connected with phenomena already understood by you,\nfor your word-language can be thrust out from the parent stalk, and can\nthus follow the outreaching branches. However, in the case of phenomena\nthat exist on other planes, or are separated from any known material, or\nforce, as is the true conception that envelops the word eternity, there\nbeing neither connecting materials, forces, nor words to unite the\noutside with the inside, the known with the unknown, how can I tell you\nmore than I have done? You are word-bound.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless, I still believe that I can think outside of words.\"\n\n\"Well, perhaps after you attempt to do so, and fail again and again, you\nwill appreciate that a truth is a truth, humiliating as it may be to\nacknowledge the fact.\"\n\n\"A Digger Indian has scarcely a word-language,\" I asserted, loth to\nrelinquish the argument.\n\n\"You can go farther back if you desire, back to primitive man; man\nwithout language at all, and with ideas as circumscribed as those of the\nbrutes, and still you have not strengthened your argument concerning\ncivilized man. But you are tired, I see.\"\n\n\"Yes; tired of endeavoring to combat your assertions. You invariably\nlead me into the realms of speculation, and then throw me upon the\ndefensive by asking me to prove my own theories, or with apparent\nsincerity, you advance an unreasonable hypothesis, and then, before I am\naware of your purpose, force me to acquiesce because I can not find\nfacts to confute you. You very artfully throw the burden of proof on me\nin all cases, for either by physical comparisons that I can not make, I\nmust demonstrate the falsity of your metaphysical assertions, or by\nabstract reasonings disprove statements you assert to be facts.\"\n\n\"You are peevish and exhausted, or you would perceive that I have\ngenerally allowed you to make the issue, and more than once have\nendeavored to dissuade you from doing so. Besides, did I not several\ntimes in the past bring experimental proof to dispel your incredulity?\nHave I not been courteous?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I petulantly admitted; \"yes.\"\n\nThen I determined to imitate his artful methods, and throw him upon the\ndefensive as often as he had done with me. I had finally become familiar\nwith his process of arguing a question, for, instead of coming\nimmediately to his subject, he invariably led by circuitous route to the\nmatter under discussion. Before reaching the point he would manage to\ncommit me to his own side of the subject, or place me in a defenseless\nposition. So with covert aim I began:\n\n\"I believe that friction is one method of producing heat.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I have been told that the North American Indians make fires by rubbing\ntogether two pieces of dry wood.\"\n\n\"True.\"\n\n\"I have understood that the light of a shooting star results from the\nheat of friction, producing combustion of its particles.\"\n\n\"Partly,\" he answered.\n\n\"That when the meteoric fragment of space dust strikes the air, the\nfriction resulting from its velocity heats it to redness, fuses its\nsurface, or even burns its very substance into ashes.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I have seen the spindle of a wheel charred by friction.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I have drawn a wire rapidly through a handkerchief tightly grasped in\nmy hands, and have warmed the wire considerably in doing so.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nI felt that I had him committed to my side of the question, and I\nprepared to force him to disprove the possibility of one assertion that\nhe had made concerning his journey.\n\n\"You stated that you rode in a boat on the underground lake.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"With great rapidity?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Rapid motion produces friction, I believe?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And heat?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why did not your boat become heated even to redness? You rode at the\nrate of nine hundred miles an hour,\" I cried exultingly.\n\n\"For two reasons,\" he calmly replied; \"two natural causes prevented such\na catastrophe.\"\n\nAnd again he warned me, as he had done before, by saying:\n\n\"While you should not seek for supernatural agencies to account for any\nphenomena in life, for all that is is natural, neither should you fail\nto study the differences that varying conditions produce in results\nalready known. A miracle ceases to be a miracle when we understand the\nscientific cause underlying the wonder; occultism is natural, for if\nthere be occult phenomena they must be governed by natural law; mystery\nis not mysterious if the veil of ignorance that envelops the\ninvestigator is lifted. What you have said is true concerning the heat\nthat results from friction, but--\n\n\"First, the attraction of gravitation was inconsiderable where the boat,\nto which you refer, rested on the water.\n\n\"Second, the changing water carried away the heat as fast as it was\nproduced. While it is true that a cannon ball becomes heated in its\nmotion through the air, its surface is cooled when it strikes a body of\nwater, notwithstanding that its great velocity is altogether overcome by\nthe water. The friction between the water and the iron does not result\nin heated iron, but the contrary. The water above the rapids of a river\nhas practically the temperature of the water below the rapids,\nregardless of the friction that ensues between these points. Admit,\nhowever, that heat is liberated as the result of the friction of solids\nwith water, and still it does not follow that this heat will perceptibly\naffect the solid. With a boat each particle of water carries the heat\naway, each succeeding portion of water takes up the heat liberated by\nthat preceding it. Thus the great body of water, over which our boat\nsped, in obedience to the ordinary law, became slightly warmed, but its\neffect upon the boat was scarcely perceptible. Your comparison of the\nmotion of a meteor, with that of our boat, was unhappy. We moved\nrapidly, it is true, in comparison with the motion of vessels such as\nyou know, but comparison can not be easily drawn between the velocity of\na boat and that of a meteor. While we moved at the rate of many miles a\nminute, a meteor moves many times faster, perhaps as many miles in a\nsecond. Then you must remember that the force of gravitation was so\nslight in our position that--\"\n\n\"Enough,\" I interrupted. \"We will pass the subject. It seems that you\ndraw upon science for knowledge to support your arguments, however\nirrational they may be, and then you sneer at this same method of\nargument when I employ it.\"\n\nHe replied to my peevish complaint with the utmost respect by calling to\nmy attention the fact that my own forced argument had led to the answer,\nand that he had simply replied to my attacks. Said he:\n\n\"If I am wrong in my philosophy, based on your science thought, I am\nright in my facts, and science thought is thus in the wrong, for facts\noverbalance theory. I ask you only to give me the attention that my\nstatements merit. I am sincere, and aim to serve your interests. Should\ninvestigation lead you hereafter to infer that I am in error, at our\nfinal interview you can have my considerate attention. Be more\ncharitable, please.\"\n\nThen he added:\n\n\"Is there any other subject you wish to argue?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered, and again my combativeness arose; \"yes. One of the\ntruly edifying features of your narrative is that of the intelligent\nguide,\" and I emphasized the word intelligent, and curled up my lip in a\nsarcastic manner.\n\n\"Proceed.\"\n\n\"He was verily a wonderful being; an eyeless creature, and yet possessed\nof sight and perception beyond that of mortal man; a creature who had\nbeen locked in the earth, and yet was more familiar with its surface\nthan a philosopher; a cavern-bred monstrosity, and yet possessed of the\nmind of a sage; he was a scientific expert, a naturalist, a metaphysical\nreasoner, a critic of religion, and a prophet. He could see in absolute\ndarkness as well as in daylight; without a compass he could guide a boat\nover a trackless sea, and could accomplish feats that throw Gulliver and\nMunchausen into disrepute.\"\n\nIn perfect composure my aged guest listened to my cynical, and almost\ninsulting tirade. He made no effort to restrain my impetuous sentences,\nand when I had finished replied in the polished language of a scholarly\ngentleman.\n\n\"You state truly, construe my words properly, as well as understand\ncorrectly.\"\n\nThen he continued musingly, as though speaking to himself:\n\n\"I would be at fault and deserve censure did I permit doubts to be\nthrown upon so clear a subject, or discredit on so magnanimous a\nperson.\"\n\nTurning to me he continued:\n\n\"Certainly I did not intend to mislead or to be misunderstood, and am\npleased to find you so earnest a scholar.\"\n\nAnd then in his soft, mild manner, he commenced his detail reply,\npouring oil upon the waters of my troubled soul, his sweet, melodious\nvoice being so in contrast to my rash harangue. He began with his\nexpressive and often repeated word, \"listen.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WE PASSED THROUGH CAVERNS FILLED WITH CREEPING\nREPTILES.\"]\n\n\"Listen. You are right, my guide was a being wonderful to mortals. He\nwas eyeless, but as I have shown you before, and now swear to the fact,\nwas not sightless; surely,\" he said, \"surely you have not forgotten\nthat long ago I considered the phenomenal instinct at length. He\npredicted the future by means of his knowledge of the past--there is\nnothing wonderful in that. Can not a civil engineer continue a line into\nthe beyond, and predict where the projection of that line will strike;\ncan he not also calculate the effect that a curve will have on his\nline's destiny? Why should a being conversant with the lines and curves\nof humanity's journey for ages past not be able to indicate the lines\nthat men must follow in the future? Of course he could guide the boat,\nin what was to me a trackless waste of water, but you err in asserting\nthat I had said he did not have a guide, even if it were not a compass.\nMany details concerning this journey have not been explained to you;\nindeed, I have acquainted you with but little that I experienced. Near\nsurface earth we passed through caverns filled with creeping reptiles;\nthrough others we were surrounded by flying creatures, neither beast nor\nbird; we passed through passages of ooze and labyrinths of apparently\ninterminable intra-earth structures; to have disported on such features\nof my journey would have been impracticable. From time to time I\nexperienced strains of melody, such as never before had I conceived,\nseemingly choruses of angels were singing in and to my very soul. From\nempty space about me, from out the crevices beyond and behind me, from\nthe depths of my spirit within me, came these strains in notes clear and\ndistinct, but yet indescribable. Did I fancy, or was it real? I will not\npretend to say. Flowers and structures beautiful, insects gorgeous and\ninexplicable were spread before me. Figures and forms I can not attempt\nto indicate in word descriptions, ever and anon surrounded, accompanied,\nand passed me by. The canvas conceptions of earth-bred artists bring to\nmind no forms so strange and weird and yet so beautiful as were these\ncompound beings. Restful beyond description was it to drink in the\nindescribable strains of poetry of motion that I appreciated in the\nmovements of fair creatures I have not mentioned, and it was no less\nsoothing to experience the soul relief wrought by the sounds about me,\nfor musicians know no notes so sweet and entrancing.\n\n\"There were also, in side caverns to which I was led, combinations of\nsounds and scenes in which floating strains and fleeting figures were\ninterwoven and interlaced so closely that the senses of both sight and\nhearing became blended into a single sense, new, weird, strange, and\ninexpressible. As flavor is the combination of odor and taste, and is\nneither taste nor odor, so these sounds and scenes combined were neither\nscenes nor sounds, but a complex sensation, new, delicious. Sometimes I\nbegged to be permitted to stop and live forever 'mid those heavenly\ncharms, but with as firm a hand as when helping me through the chambers\nof mire, ooze, and creeping reptiles, my guide drew me onward.\n\n\"But to return to the subject. As to my guide being a cavern-bred\nmonstrosity, I do not remember to have said that he was cavern-bred, and\nif I have forgotten a fact, I regret my short memory. Did I say that he\nwas always a cavern being? Did I assert that he had never lived among\nmortals of upper earth? If so, I do not remember our conversation on\nthat subject. He was surely a sage in knowledge, as you have experienced\nfrom my feeble efforts in explaining the nature of phenomena that were\nto you unknown, and yet have been gained by me largely through his\ninstruction. He was a metaphysician, as you assert; you are surely\nright; he was a sincere, earnest reasoner and teacher. He was a\nconscientious student, and did not by any word lead me to feel that he\ndid not respect all religions, and bow to the Creator of the universe,\nits sciences, and its religions. His demeanor was most considerate, his\nmethods faultless, his love of nature deep, his patience inexhaustible,\nhis sincerity unimpeachable. Yes,\" the old man said; \"you are right in\nyour admiration of this lovely personage, and when you come to meet this\nbeing as you are destined yet to do--for know now that you too will some\nday pass from surface earth, and leave only your name in connection with\nthis story of myself--you will surely then form a still greater love and\na deeper respect for one so gifted, and yet so self-sacrificing.\"\n\n\"Old man,\" I cried, \"you mock me. I spoke facetiously, and you answer\nliterally. Know that I have no confidence in your sailor-like tales,\nyour Marco Polo history.\"\n\n\"Ah! You discredit Marco Polo? And why do you doubt?\"\n\n\"Because I have never seen such phenomena, I have never witnessed such\noccurrences. I must see a thing to believe it.\"\n\n\"And so you believe only what you see?\" he queried.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Now answer promptly,\" he commanded, and his manner changed as by magic\nto that of a master. \"Did you ever see Greenland?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Iceland?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"A geyser?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"A whale?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"England?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"France?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"A walrus?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then you do not believe that these conditions, countries, and animals\nhave an existence?\"\n\n\"Of course they have.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Others have seen them.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" he said; \"then you wish to modify your assertion--you only believe\nwhat others have seen?\"\n\n\"Excepting one person,\" I retorted.\n\nThen he continued, seemingly not having noticed my personal allusion:\n\n\"Have you ever seen your heart?\"\n\nI hesitated.\n\n\"Answer,\" he commanded.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Your stomach?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Have you seen the stomach of any of your friends?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"The back of your head?\"\n\nI became irritated, and made no reply.\n\n\"Answer,\" he again commanded.\n\n\"I have seen its reflection in a glass.\"\n\n\"I say no,\" he replied; \"you have not.\"\n\n\"You are impudent,\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"Not at all,\" he said, good humoredly; \"how easy it is to make a\nmistake. I venture to say that you have never seen the reflection of the\nback of your head in a mirror.\"\n\n\"Your presumption astounds me.\"\n\n\"I will leave it to yourself.\"\n\nHe took a hand-glass from the table and held it behind my head.\n\n\"Now, do you see the reflection?\"\n\n\"No; the glass is behind me.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes; and so is the back of your head.\"\n\n\"Look,\" I said, pointing to the great mirror on the bureau; \"look, there\nis the reflection of the back of my head.\"\n\n\"No; it is the reflection of the reflection in my hand-glass.\"\n\n\"You have tricked me; you quibble!\"\n\n\"Well,\" he said, ignoring my remark; \"what do you believe?\"\n\n\"I believe what others have seen, and what I can do.\"\n\n\"Excluding myself as to what others have seen,\" he said facetiously.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" I answered, relenting somewhat.\n\n\"Has any man of your acquaintance seen the middle of Africa?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"The center of the earth?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"The opposite side of the moon?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"The soul of man?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Heat, light, electricity?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then you do not believe that Africa has a midland, the earth a center,\nthe moon an opposite side, man a soul, force an existence?\"\n\n\"You distort my meaning.\"\n\n\"Well, I ask questions in accord with your suggestions, and you defeat\nyourself. You have now only one point left. You believe only what _you_\ncan do?\"\n\n[Illustration: \"FLOWERS AND STRUCTURES BEAUTIFUL, INSECTS GORGEOUS.\"]\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I will rest this case on one statement, then, and you may be the\njudge.\"\n\n\"Agreed.\"\n\n\"You can not do what any child in Cincinnati can accomplish. I assert\nthat any other man, any other woman in the city can do more than you\ncan. No cripple is so helpless, no invalid so feeble as not, in this\nrespect, to be your superior.\"\n\n\"You insult me,\" I again retorted, almost viciously.\n\n\"Do you dispute the assertion seriously?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well, let me see you kiss your elbow.\"\n\nInvoluntarily I twisted my arm so as to bring the elbow towards my\nmouth, then, as I caught the full force of his meaning, the ridiculous\nresult of my passionate wager came over me, and I laughed aloud. It was\na change of thought from the sublime to the ludicrous.\n\nThe white-haired guest smiled in return, and kindly said:\n\n\"It pleases me to find you in good humor at last. I will return\nto-morrow evening and resume the reading of my manuscript. In the\nmeantime take good exercise, eat heartily, and become more cheerful.\"\n\nHe rose and bowed himself out.\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD MAN CONTINUES HIS MANUSCRIPT.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIV.\n\n THE FATHOMLESS ABYSS.--THE EDGE OF THE EARTH SHELL.\n\n\nPromptly at eight o'clock the next evening the old man entered my room.\nHe did not allude to the occurrences of the previous evening, and for\nthis considerate treatment I felt thankful, as my part in those episodes\nhad not been enviable. He placed his hat on the table, and in his usual\ncool and deliberate manner, commenced reading as follows:\n\nFor a long time thereafter we journeyed on in silence, now amid stately\nstone pillars, then through great cliff openings or among gigantic\nformations that often stretched away like cities or towns dotted over a\nplain, to vanish in the distance. Then the scene changed, and we\ntraversed magnificent avenues, bounded by solid walls which expanded\ninto lofty caverns of illimitable extent, from whence we found ourselves\ncreeping through narrow crevices and threading winding passages barely\nsufficient to admit our bodies. For a considerable period I had noted\nthe absence of water, and as we passed from grotto to temple reared\nwithout hands, it occurred to me that I could not now observe evidence\nof water erosion in the stony surface over which we trod, and which had\nbeen so abundant before we reached the lake. My guide explained by\nsaying in reply to my thought question, that we were beneath the water\nline. He said that liquids were impelled back towards the earth's\nsurface from a point unnoticed by me, but long since passed. Neither did\nI now experience hunger nor thirst, in the slightest degree, a\ncircumstance which my guide assured me was perfectly natural in view of\nthe fact that there was neither waste of tissue nor consumption of heat\nin my present organism.\n\n[Illustration: \"WITH FEAR AND TREMBLING I CREPT ON MY KNEES TO HIS\nSIDE.\"]\n\nAt last I observed far in the distance a slanting sheet of light that,\nfan-shaped, stood as a barrier across the way; beyond it neither earth\nnor earth's surface appeared. As we approached, the distinctness of its\noutline disappeared, and when we came nearer, I found that it streamed\ninto the space above, from what appeared to be a crevice or break in the\nearth that stretched across our pathway, and was apparently limitless\nand bottomless.\n\n\"Is this another hallucination?\" I queried.\n\n\"No; it is a reality. Let us advance to the brink.\"\n\nSlowly we pursued our way, for I hesitated and held back. I had really\nbegun to distrust my own senses, and my guide in the lead was even\nforced to demonstrate the feasibility of the way, step by step, before I\ncould be induced to follow. At length we neared the edge of the chasm,\nand while he stood boldly upright by the brink, with fear and trembling\nI crept on my knees to his side, and together we faced a magnificent but\nfearful void that stretched beneath and beyond us, into a profundity of\nspace. I peered into the chamber of light, that indescribable gulf of\nbrilliancy, but vainly sought for an opposite wall; there was none. As\nfar as the eye could reach, vacancy, illuminated vacancy, greeted my\nvision. The light that sprung from that void was not dazzling, but was\npossessed of a beauty that no words can suggest. I peered downward, and\nfound that we stood upon the edge of a shelving ledge of stone that\nreceded rapidly beneath us, so that we seemed to rest upon the upper\nside of its wedge-like edge. I strained my vision to catch a glimpse of\nthe bottom of this chasm, but although I realized that my eyes were\nglancing into miles and miles of space, there was no evidence of earthly\nmaterial other than the brink upon which we stood.\n\nThe limit of vision seemed to be bounded by a silvery blending of light\nwith light, light alone, only light. The dead silence about, and the new\nlight before me, combined to produce a weird sensation, inexplicable,\noverpowering. A speck of dust on the edge of immensity, I clung to the\nstone cliff, gazing into the depths of that immeasurable void.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLV.\n\n MY HEART THROB IS STILLED, AND YET I LIVE.\n\n\n\"It now becomes my duty to inform you that this is one of the stages in\nour journey that can only be passed by the exercise of the greatest will\nforce. Owing to our former surroundings upon the surface of the earth,\nand to your inheritance of a so-called instinctive education, you would\nnaturally suppose that we are now on the brink of an impassable chasm.\nThis sphere of material vacuity extends beneath us to a depth that I am\nsure you will be astonished to learn is over six thousand miles. We may\nnow look straight into the earth cavity, and this streaming light is the\nreflected purity of the space below. The opposite side of this crevice,\nout of sight by reason of its distance, but horizontally across from\nwhere we stand, is precipitous and comparatively solid, extending upward\nto the material that forms the earth's surface. We have, during our\njourney, traversed an oblique, tortuous natural passage, that extends\nfrom the spot at which you entered the cave in Kentucky, diagonally down\ninto the crust of the globe, terminating in this shelving bluff. I would\nrecall to your mind that your journey up to this time has been of your\nown free will and accord. At each period of vacillation--and you could\nnot help but waver occasionally--you have been at liberty to return to\nsurface earth again, but each time you decided wisely to continue your\ncourse. You can now return if your courage is not sufficient to overcome\nyour fear, but this is the last opportunity you will have to reconsider,\nwhile in my company.\"\n\n\"Have others overcome the instinctive terrors to which you allude?\"\n\n\"Yes; but usually the dread of death, or an unbearable uncertainty,\ncompels the traveler to give up in despair before reaching this spot,\nand the opportunity of a lifetime is lost. Yes; an opportunity that\noccurs only in the lifetime of one person out of millions, of but few in\nour brotherhood.\"\n\n\"Then I can return if I so elect?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\n\"Will you inform me concerning the nature of the obstacle I have to\novercome, that you indicate by your vague references?\"\n\n\"We must descend from this cliff.\"\n\n\"You can not be in earnest.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Do you not see that the stone recedes from beneath us, that we stand on\nthe edge of a wedge overhanging bottomless space?\"\n\n\"That I understand.\"\n\n\"There is no ladder,\" and then the foolish remark abashed me as I\nthought of a ladder six thousand miles in length.\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\nHe made no reference to my confusion.\n\n\"There is practically no bottom,\" I asserted, \"if I can believe your\nwords; you told me so.\"\n\n\"And that I reiterate.\"\n\n\"The feat is impracticable, impossible, and only a madman would think of\ntrying to descend into such a depth of space.\"\n\nThen an idea came over me; perhaps there existed a route at some other\npoint of the earth's crevice by which we could reach the under side of\nthe stone shelf, and I intimated as much to the guide.\n\n\"No; we must descend from this point, for it is the only entrance to the\nhollow beneath.\"\n\nWe withdrew from the brink, and I meditated in silence. Then I crept\nagain to the edge of the bluff, and lying flat on my chest, craned my\nhead over, and peered down into the luminous gulf. The texture of the\nreceding mineral was distinctly visible for a considerable distance, and\nthen far, far beneath all semblance to material form disappeared--as the\nhull of a vessel fades in deep, clear water. As I gazed into the gulf it\nseemed evident that, as a board floating in water is bounded by water,\nthis rock really ended. I turned to my guide and questioned him.\n\n\"Stone in this situation is as cork,\" he replied; \"it is nearly devoid\nof weight; your surmise is correct. We stand on the shelving edge of a\ncliff of earthly matter, that in this spot slants upward from beneath\nlike the bow of a boat. We have reached the bottom of the film of space\ndust on the bubble of energy that forms the skeleton of earth.\"\n\nI clutched the edge of the cliff with both hands.\n\n\"Be not frightened; have I not told you that if you wish to return you\ncan do so. Now hearken to me:\n\n\"A short time ago you endeavored to convince me that we could not\ndescend from this precipice, and you are aware that your arguments were\nwithout foundation. You drew upon your knowledge of earth materials, as\nyou once learned them, and realized at the time that you deluded\nyourself in doing so, for you know that present conditions are not such\nas exist above ground. You are now influenced by surroundings that are\nentirely different from those that govern the lives of men upon the\nearth's surface. You are almost without weight. You have nearly ceased\nto breathe, as long since you discovered, and soon I hope will agree\nentirely to suspend that harsh and wearying movement. Your heart\nscarcely pulsates, and if you go with me farther in this journey, will\nsoon cease to beat.\"\n\nI started up and turned to flee, but he grasped and held me firmly.\n\n\"Would you murder me? Do you think I will mutely acquiesce, while you\ncoolly inform me of your inhuman intent, and gloat over the fact that my\nheart will soon be as stone, and that I will be a corpse?\" He attempted\nto break in, but I proceeded in frenzy. \"I _will_ return to upper earth,\nto sunshine and humanity. I _will_ retreat while yet in health and\nstrength, and although I have in apparent willingness accompanied you to\nthis point, learn now that at all times I have been possessed of the\nmeans to defend myself from personal violence.\" I drew from my pocket\nthe bar of iron. \"See, this I secreted about my person in the fresh air\nof upper earth, the sweet sunshine of heaven, fearing that I might fall\ninto the hands of men with whom I must combat. Back, back,\" I cried.\n\nHe released his hold of my person, and folded his arms upon his breast,\nthen quietly faced me, standing directly between myself and the passage\nwe had trod, while I stood on the brink, my back to that fearful chasm.\n\nBy a single push he could thrust me into the fathomless gulf below, and\nwith the realization of that fact, I felt that it was now a life and\ndeath struggle. With every muscle strained to its utmost tension, with\nmy soul on fire, my brain frenzied, I drew back the bar of iron to smite\nthe apparently defenseless being in the forehead, but he moved not, and\nas I made the motion, he calmly remarked: \"Do you remember the history\nof Hiram Abiff?\"\n\n[Illustration: \"I DREW BACK THE BAR OF IRON TO SMITE THE APPARENTLY\nDEFENSELESS BEING IN THE FOREHEAD.\"]\n\nThe hand that held the weapon dropped as if stricken by paralysis, and a\nflood of recollections concerning my lost home overcame me. I had raised\nmy hand against a brother, the only being of my kind who could aid me,\nor assist me either to advance or recede. How could I, unaided, recross\nthat glassy lake, and pass through the grotesque forests of fungi and\nthe labyrinth of crystal grottoes of the salt bed? How could I find my\nway in the utter darkness that existed in the damp, soppy, dripping\nupper caverns that I must retrace before I could hope to reach the\nsurface of the earth? \"Forgive me,\" I sobbed, and sunk at his feet.\n\"Forgive me, my friend, my brother; I have been wild, mad, am crazed.\"\nHe made no reply, but pointed over my shoulder into the space beyond.\n\nI turned, and in the direction indicated, saw, in amazement, floating in\nthe distant space a snow- and ice-clad vessel in full sail. She was\nheaded diagonally from us, and was moving rapidly across the field of\nvision. Every spar and sail was clearly defined, and on her deck, and in\nthe rigging I beheld sailors clad in winter garments pursuing their\nvarious duties.\n\nAs I gazed, enraptured, she disappeared in the distance.\n\n\"A phantom vessel,\" I murmured.\n\n\"No,\" he replied; \"the abstraction of a vessel sailing on the ocean\nabove us. Every object on earth is the second to an imprint in another\nplace. There is an apparent reproduction of matter in so-called vacancy,\nand on unseen pages a recording of all events. As that ship sailed over\nthe ocean above us, she disturbed a current of energy, and it left its\nimpress as an outline on a certain zone beneath, which is parallel with\nthat upon which we now chance to stand.\"\n\n\"I can not comprehend,\" I muttered.\n\n\"No,\" he answered; \"to you it seems miraculous, as to all men an\nunexplained phenomenon approaches the supernatural. All that is is\nnatural. Have men not been told in sacred writings that their every\nmovement is being recorded in the Book of Life, and do they not often\ndoubt because they can not grasp the problem? May not the greatest\nscientist be the most apt skeptic?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied.\n\n\"You have just seen,\" he said, \"the record of an act on earth, and in\ndetail it is being printed elsewhere in the Book of Eternity. If you\nshould return to earth's surface you could not by stating these facts\nconvince even the persons on that same ship, of your sanity. You could\nnot make them believe that hundreds of miles beneath, both their vessel\nand its crew had been reproduced in fac simile, could you?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Were you to return to earth you could not convince men that you had\nexisted without breath, with a heart dead within you. If you should try\nto impress on mankind the facts that you have learned in this journey,\nwhat would be the result?\"\n\n\"I would probably be considered mentally deranged; this I have before\nadmitted.\"\n\n\"Would it not be better then,\" he continued, \"to go with me, by your own\nfree will, into the unknown future, which you need fear less than a\nreturn to the scoffing multitude amid the storms of upper earth? You\nknow that I have not at any time deceived you. I have, as yet, only\nopened before you a part of one rare page out of the boundless book of\nnature; you have tasted of the sweets of which few persons in the flesh\nhave sipped, and I now promise you a further store of knowledge that is\nrich beyond conception, if you wish to continue your journey.\"\n\n\"What if I decide to return?\"\n\n\"I will retrace my footsteps and liberate you upon the surface of the\nearth, as I have others, for few persons have courage enough to pass\nthis spot.\"\n\n\"Binding me to an oath of secrecy?\"\n\n[Illustration: \"SPRUNG FROM THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF INTO THE ABYSS BELOW,\nCARRYING ME WITH HIM INTO ITS DEPTHS.\"]\n\n\"No,\" he answered; \"for if you relate these events men will consider you\na madman, and the more clearly you attempt to explain the facts that you\nhave witnessed, the less they will listen to you; such has been the fate\nof others.\"\n\n\"It is, indeed, better for me to go with you,\" I said musingly; \"to that\neffect my mind is now made up, my course is clear, I am ready.\"\n\nWith a motion so quick in conception, and rapid in execution that I was\ntaken altogether by surprise, with a grasp so powerful that I could not\nhave repelled him, had I expected the movement and tried to protect\nmyself, the strange man, or being beside me, threw his arms around my\nbody. Then, as a part of the same movement, he raised me bodily from the\nstone, and before I could realize the nature of his intention, sprung\nfrom the edge of the cliff into the abyss below, carrying me with him\ninto its depths.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVI.\n\n THE INNER CIRCLE, OR THE END OF GRAVITATION.--IN THE BOTTOMLESS\n GULF.\n\n\nI recall a whirling sensation, and an involuntary attempt at\nself-preservation, in which I threw my arms wildly about with a vain\nendeavor to clutch some form of solid body, which movement naturally\nended by a tight clasping of my guide in my arms, and locked together we\ncontinued to speed down into the seven thousand miles of vacancy.\nInstinctively I murmured a prayer of supplication, and awaited the\napproaching hereafter, which, as I believed, would quickly witness the\nextinction of my unhappy life, the end of my material existence; but the\nmoments (if time can be so divided when no sun marks the division)\nmultiplied without bodily shock or physical pain of any description; I\nretained my consciousness.\n\n\"Open your eyes,\" said my guide, \"you have no cause for fear.\"\n\nI acquiesced in an incredulous, dazed manner.\n\n\"This unusual experience is sufficient to unnerve you, but you need have\nno fear, for you are not in corporal danger, and can relax your grasp on\nmy person.\"\n\nI cautiously obeyed him, misgivingly, and slowly loosened my hold, then\ngazed about to find that we were in a sea of light, and that only light\nwas visible, that form of light which I have before said is an entity\nwithout source of radiation. In one direction, however, a great gray\ncloud hung suspended and gloomy, dark in the center, and shading\ntherefrom in a circle, to disappear entirely at an angle of about\nforty-five degrees.\n\n\"This is the earth-shelf from which we sprung,\" said the guide; \"it will\nsoon disappear.\"\n\nWherever I glanced this radiant exhalation, a peaceful, luminous\nenvelope, this rich, soft, beautiful white light appeared. The power of\nbodily motion I found still a factor in my frame, obedient, as before,\nto my will. I could move my limbs freely, and my intellect seemed to be\nintact. Finally I became impressed with the idea that I must be at\nperfect rest, but if so what could be the nature of the substance, or\nmaterial, upon which I was resting so complacently? No; this could not\nbe true. Then I thought: \"I have been instantly killed by a painless\nshock, and my spirit is in heaven;\" but my earthly body and coarse,\nragged garments were palpable realities; the sense of touch, sight, and\nhearing surely were normal, and a consideration of these facts dispelled\nmy first conception.\n\n\"Where are we now?\"\n\n\"Moving into earth's central space.\"\n\n\"I comprehend that a rushing wind surrounds us which is not\nuncomfortable, but otherwise I experience no unusual sensation, and can\nnot realize but that I am at rest.\"\n\n\"The sensation, as of a blowing wind, is in consequence of our rapid\nmotion, and results from the friction between our bodies and the\nquiescent, attenuated atmosphere which exists even here, but this\natmosphere becomes less and less in amount until it will disappear\naltogether at a short distance below us. Soon we will be in a perfect\ncalm, and although moving rapidly, to all appearances will be at\nabsolute rest.\"\n\nNaturally, perhaps, my mind attempted, as it so often had done, to urge\nobjections to his statements, and at first it occurred to me that I did\nnot experience the peculiar sinking away sensation in the chest that I\nremembered follows, on earth, the downward motion of a person falling\nfrom a great height, or moving rapidly in a swing, and I questioned him\non the absence of that phenomenon.\n\n\"The explanation is simple,\" he said; \"on the surface of the earth a\nsudden motion, either upward or downward, disturbs the equilibrium of\nthe organs of respiration, and of the heart, and interferes with the\ncirculation of the blood. This produces a change in blood pressure\nwithin the brain, and the 'sinking' sensation in the chest, or the\ndizziness of the head of a person moving rapidly, or it may even result\nin unconsciousness, and complete suspension of respiration, effects\nwhich sometimes follow rapid movements, as in a person falling from a\nconsiderable height. Here circumstances are entirely different. The\nheart is quiet, the lungs in a comatose condition, and the blood\nstagnant. Mental sensations, therefore, that result from a disturbed\ncondition of these organs are wanting, and, although we are experiencing\nrapid motion, we are in the full possession of our physical selves, and\nmaintain our mental faculties unimpaired.\"\n\nAgain I interposed an objection:\n\n\"If, as you say, we are really passing through an attenuated atmosphere\nwith increasing velocity, according to the law that governs falling\nbodies that are acted upon by gravity which continually accelerates\ntheir motion, the friction between ourselves and the air will ultimately\nbecome so intense as to wear away our bodies.\"\n\n\"Upon the contrary,\" said he, \"this attenuated atmosphere is decreasing\nin density more rapidly than our velocity increases, and before long it\nwill have altogether disappeared. You can perceive that the wind, as you\ncall it, is blowing less violently than formerly; soon it will entirely\ncease, as I have already predicted, and at that period, regardless of\nour motion, we will appear to be stationary.\"\n\nPondering over the final result of this strange experience I became\nagain alarmed, for accepting the facts to be as he stated, such motion\nwould ultimately carry us against the opposite crust of the earth, and\nwithout a doubt the shock would end our existence. I inquired about\nthis, to me, self-evident fact, and he replied:\n\n\"Long before we reach the opposite crust of the earth, our motion will\nbe arrested.\"\n\nI had begun now to feel a self-confidence that is surprising as I recall\nthat remarkable position in connection with my narrow experience in true\nscience, and can say that instead of despondency, I really enjoyed an\nelated sensation, a curious exhilaration, a feeling of delight, which I\nhave no words to describe. Life disturbances and mental worry seemed to\nhave completely vanished, and it appeared as if, with mental perception\nlucid, I were under the influence of a powerful soporific; the cares of\nmortals had disappeared. After a while the wind ceased to blow, as my\nguide had predicted, and with the suspension of that factor, all that\nremained to remind me of earth phenomena had vanished. There was no\nmotion of material, nothing to mar or disturb the most perfect peace\nimaginable; I was so exquisitely happy that I now actually feared some\nchange might occur to interrupt that quiescent existence. It was as a\ndeep, sweet sleep in which, with faculties alive, unconsciousness was\nself-conscious, peaceful, restful, blissful. I listlessly turned my\neyes, searching space in all directions--to meet vacancy everywhere,\nabsolute vacancy. I took from my pocket (into which I had hastily thrust\nit) the bar of iron, and released it; the metal remained motionless\nbeside me.\n\n\"Traveling through this expanse with the rapidity of ourselves,\" said my\nguide.\n\nI closed my eyes and endeavored to convince myself that I was\ndreaming--vainly, however. I opened my eyes, and endeavored to convince\nmyself that I was moving, equally in vain. I became oblivious to\neverything save the delicious sensation of absolute rest that enveloped\nand pervaded my being.\n\n\"I am neither alive nor dead,\" I murmured; \"neither asleep nor awake;\nneither moving nor at rest, and neither standing, reclining, nor\nsitting. If I exist I can not bring evidence to prove that fact, neither\ncan I prove that I am dead.\"\n\n\"Can any man prove either of these premises?\" said the guide.\n\n\"I have never questioned the matter,\" said I; \"it is a self-evident\nfact.\"\n\n\"Know then,\" said he, \"that existence is a theory, and that man is\nincapable of demonstrating that he has a being. All evidences of mortal\nlife are only as the phantasms of hallucination. As a moment in\ndreamland may span a life of time, the dreamer altogether unconscious\nthat it is a dream, so may life itself be a shadow, the vision of a\ndistempered fancy, the illusion of a floating thought.\"\n\n\"Are pain, pleasure, and living, imaginary creations?\" I asked\nfacetiously.\n\n\"Is there a madman who does not imagine, as facts, what others agree\nupon as hallucinations peculiar to himself? Is it not impossible to\ndistinguish between different gradations of illusions, and is it not,\ntherefore, possible that even self-existence is an illusion? What\nevidence can any man produce to prove that his idea of life is not a\nmadman's dream?\"\n\n\"Proceed,\" I said.\n\n\"At another time, perhaps,\" he remarked; \"we have reached the Inner\nCircle, the Sphere of Rest, the line of gravity, and now our bodies have\nno weight; at this point we begin to move with decreased speed, we will\nsoon come to a quiescent condition, a state of rest, and then start back\non our rebound.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVII.\n\n HEARING WITHOUT EARS.--\"WHAT WILL BE THE END?\"\n\n\nA flood of recollections came over me, a vivid remembrance of my\nearth-learned school philosophy. \"I rebel again,\" I said, \"I deny your\nstatements. We can neither be moving, nor can we be out of the\natmosphere. Fool that I have been not to have sooner and better used my\nreasoning faculties, not to have at once rejected your statements\nconcerning the disappearance of the atmosphere.\"\n\n\"I await your argument.\"\n\n\"Am I not speaking? Is other argument necessary? Have I not heard your\nvoice, and that, too, since you asserted that we had left the\natmosphere?\"\n\n\"Continue.\"\n\n\"Have not men demonstrated, and is it not accepted beyond the shadow of\na doubt, that sound is produced by vibrations of the air?\"\n\n\"You speak truly; as men converse on surface earth.\"\n\n\"This medium--the air--in wave vibrations, strikes upon the drum of the\near, and thus impresses the brain,\" I continued.\n\n\"I agree that such is the teachings of your philosophy; go on.\"\n\n\"It is unnecessary; you admit the facts, and the facts refute you; there\nmust be an atmosphere to convey sound.\"\n\n\"Can not you understand that you are not now on the surface of the\nearth? Will you never learn that the philosophy of your former life is\nnot philosophy here? That earth-bound science is science only with\nsurface-earth men? Here science is a fallacy. All that you have said is\ntrue of surface earth, but your argument is invalid where every\ncondition is different from the conditions that prevail thereon. You use\nthe organs of speech in addressing me as you once learned to use them,\nbut such physical efforts are unnecessary to convey sense-impressions\nin this condition of rest and complacency, and you waste energy in\nemploying them. You assert and believe that the air conveys sound; you\nhave been taught such theories in support of a restricted philosophy;\nbut may I ask you if a bar of iron, a stick of wood, a stream of water,\nindeed any substance known to you placed against the ear will not do the\nsame, and many substances even better than the atmosphere?\"\n\n\"This I admit.\"\n\n\"Will you tell me how the vibration of any of these bodies impresses the\nseat of hearing?\"\n\n\"It moves the atmosphere which strikes upon the tympanum of the ear.\"\n\n\"You have not explained the phenomenon; how does that tympanic membrane\ncommunicate with the brain?\"\n\n\"By vibrations, I understand,\" I answered, and then I began to feel that\nthis assertion was a simple statement, and not sufficient to explain how\nmatter acts upon mind, whatever mind may be, and I hesitated.\n\n\"Pray do not stop,\" he said; \"how is it that a delicate vibrating film\nof animal membrane can receive and convey sound to a pulpy organic mass\nthat is destitute of elasticity, and which consists mostly of water, for\nthe brain is such in structure, and vibrations like those you mention,\ncan not, by your own theory, pass through it as vibrations through a\nsonorous material, or even reach from the tympanum of the ear to the\nnearest convolution of the brain.\"\n\n\"I can not explain this, I admit,\" was my reply.\n\n\"Pass that feature, then, and concede that this tympanic membrane is\ncapable of materially affecting brain tissue by its tiny vibrations, how\ncan that slimy, pulpy formation mostly made up of water, communicate\nwith the soul of man, for you do not claim, I hope, that brain material\nis either mind, conscience, or soul?\"\n\nI confessed my inability to answer or even to theorize on the subject,\nand recognizing my humiliation, I begged him to open the door to such\nknowledge.\n\n\"The vibration of the atmosphere is necessary to man, as earthy man is\nsituated,\" he said. \"The coarser attributes known as matter formations\nare the crudities of nature, dust swept from space. Man's organism is\nmade up of the roughest and lowest kind of space materials; he is\nsurrounded by a turbulent medium, the air, and these various conditions\nobscure or destroy the finer attributes of his ethereal nature, and\nprevent a higher spiritual evolution. His spiritual self is enveloped in\nearth, and everywhere thwarted by earthy materials. He is insensible to\nthe finer influences of surrounding media by reason of the overwhelming\nnecessity of a war for existence with the grossly antagonistic\nmaterialistic confusion that everywhere confronts, surrounds, and\npervades him. Such a conflict with extraneous matter is necessary in\norder that he may retain his earthy being, for, to remain a mortal, he\nmust work to keep body and soul together. His organs of communication\nand perception are of 'earth, earthy'; his nature is cast in a mold of\nclay, and the blood within him gurgles and struggles in his brain, a\nwhirlpool of madly rushing liquid substances, creating disorder in the\nprimal realms of consciousness. He is ignorant of this inward turmoil\nbecause he has never been without it, as ignorant as he is of the rank\nodors of the gases of the atmosphere that he has always breathed, and\ncan not perceive because of the benumbed olfactory nerves. Thus it is\nthat all his subtler senses are inevitably blunted and perverted, and\nhis vulgar nature preponderates. The rich essential part of his own self\nis unknown, even to himself. The possibility of delight and pleasure in\nan acquaintance with the finer attributes of his own soul is clouded by\nthis shrouding materialistic presence that has, through countless\ngenerations, become a part of man, and he even derives most of his\nmental pleasures from such acts as tend to encourage the animal\npassions. Thus it follows that the sensitive, highly developed,\nextremely attenuated part of his inner being has become subservient to\nthe grosser elements. The baser part of his nature has become dominant.\nHe remains insensible to impressions from the highly developed\nsurrounding media which, being incapable of reaching his inner organism\nother than through mechanical agencies, are powerless to impress. Alas,\nonly the coarser conditions of celestial phenomena can affect him, and\nthe finer expressions of the universe of life and force are lost to his\nspiritual apprehension.\"\n\n\"Would you have me view the soul of man as I would a material being?\"\n\n\"Surely,\" he answered; \"it exists practically as does the more gross\nforms of matter, and in exact accord with natural laws. Associated with\nlower forms of matter, the soul of man is a temporary slave to the\nenveloping substance. The ear of man as now constituted can hear only by\nmeans of vibrations of such media as conduct vibrations in matter--for\nexample, the air; but were man to be deprived of the organs of hearing,\nand then exist for generations subject to evolutions from within,\nwhereby the acuteness of the spirit would become intensified, or\npermitted to perform its true function, he would learn to communicate\nsoul to soul, not only with mankind, but with beings celestial that\nsurround, and are now unknown to him. This he would accomplish through a\nmedium of communication that requires neither ear nor tongue. To an\nextent your present condition is what men call supernatural, although in\nreality you have been divested of only a part of your former material\ngrossness, which object has been accomplished under perfectly natural\nconditions; your mind no longer requires the material medium by which to\nconverse with the spiritual. We are conversing now by thought contact,\nthere is no atmosphere here, your tongue moves merely from habit, and\nnot from necessity. I am reading your mind as you in turn are mine,\nneither of us is speaking as you were accustomed to speak.\"\n\n\"I can not accept that assertion,\" I said; \"it is to me impossible to\nrealize the existence of such conditions.\"\n\n\"As it is for any man to explain any phenomenon in life,\" he said. \"Do\nyou not remember that you ceased to respire, and were not conscious of\nthe fact?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"That your heart had stopped beating, your blood no longer circulated,\nwhile you were in ignorance of the change?\"\n\n\"That is also true.\"\n\n\"Now I will prove my last assertion. Close your mouth, and think of a\nquestion you wish to propound.\"\n\nI did so, and to my perfect understanding and comprehension he answered\nme with closed mouth.\n\n\"What will be the end?\" I exclaimed, or thought aloud. \"I am possessed\nof nearly all the attributes that I once supposed inherent only in a\ncorpse, yet I live, I see clearly, I hear plainly, I have a quickened\nbeing, and a mental perception intensified and exquisite. Why and how\nhas this been accomplished? What will be the result of this eventful\njourney?\"\n\n\"Restful, you should say,\" he remarked; \"the present is restful, the end\nwill be peace. Now I will give you a lesson concerning the words Why and\nHow that you have just used.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVIII.\n\n WHY AND HOW.--\"THE STRUGGLING RAY OF LIGHT FROM THOSE FARTHERMOST\n OUTREACHES.\"\n\n\n\"Confronting mankind there stands a sphinx--the vast Unknown. However\nwell a man may be informed concerning a special subject, his farthermost\noutlook concerning that subject is bounded by an impenetrable infinity.\"\n\n\"Granted,\" I interrupted, \"that mankind has not by any means attained a\ncondition of perfection, yet you must admit that questions once regarded\nas inscrutable problems are now illuminated by the discoveries of\nscience.\"\n\n\"And the 'discovered,' as I will show, has only transferred ignorance to\nother places,\" he replied. \"Science has confined its labors to\nsuperficial descriptions, not the elucidation of the fundamental causes\nof phenomena.\"\n\n\"I can not believe you, and question if you can prove what you say.\"\n\n\"It needs no argument to illustrate the fact. Science boldly heralds her\ndescriptive discoveries, and as carefully ignores her explanatory\nfailures. She dare not attempt to explain the why even of the simplest\nthings. Why does the robin hop, and the snipe walk? Do not tell me this\nis beneath the notice of men of science, for science claims that no\nsubject is outside her realm. Search your works on natural history and\nsee if your man of science, who describes the habits of these birds,\nexplains the reason for this evident fact. How does the tree-frog change\nits color? Do not answer me in the usual superficial manner concerning\nthe reflection of light, but tell me why the skin of that creature is\nenabled to perform this function? How does the maple-tree secrete a\nsweet, wholesome sap, and deadly nightshade, growing in the same soil\nand living on the same elements, a poison? What is it that your\nscientific men find in the cells of root, or rootlet, to indicate that\none may produce a food, and the other a noxious secretion that can\ndestroy life? Your microscopist will discuss cell tissues learnedly,\nwill speak fluently of physiological structure, will describe organic\nintercellular appearances, but ignore all that lies beyond. Why does the\nnerve in the tongue respond to a sensation, and produce on the mind the\nsense of taste? What is it that enables the nerve in the nose to perform\nits discriminative function? You do not answer. Silver is sonorous, lead\nis not; why these intrinsic differences? Aluminum is a light metal, gold\na heavy one; what reason can you offer to explain the facts other than\nthe inadequate term density? Mercury at ordinary temperature is a\nliquid; can your scientist tell why it is not a solid? Of course anyone\ncan say because its molecules move freely on each other. Such an answer\nevades the issue; why do they so readily exert this action? Copper\nproduces green or blue salts; nickel produces green salts; have you ever\nbeen told why they observe these rules? Water solidifies at about\nthirty-two degrees above your so-called zero; have you ever asked an\nexplanation of your scientific authority why it selects that\ntemperature? Alcohol dissolves resins, water dissolves gums; have you\nany explanation to offer why either liquid should dissolve anything,\nmuch less exercise a preference? One species of turtle has a soft shell,\nanother a hard shell; has your authority in natural history told you why\nthis is so? The albumen of the egg of the hen hardens at one hundred and\neighty degrees Fahrenheit; the albumen of the eggs of some turtles can\nnot be easily coagulated by boiling the egg in pure water; why these\ndifferences? Iceland spar and dog-tooth spar are identical, both are\ncrystallized carbonate of lime; has your mineralogist explained why this\none substance selects these different forms of crystallization, or why\nany crystal of any substance is ever produced? Why is common salt white\nand charcoal black? Why does the dog lap and the calf drink? One child\nhas black hair, another brown, a third red; why? Search your physiology\nfor the answer and see if your learned authority can tell you why the\nlife-current makes these distinctions? Why do the cells of the liver\nsecrete bile, and those of the mouth saliva? Why does any cell secrete\nanything? A parrot can speak; what has your anatomist found in the\nstructure of the brain, tongue, or larynx of that bird to explain why\nthis accomplishment is not as much the birthright of the turkey? The\nelements that form morphine and strychnine, also make bread, one a food,\nthe other a poison; can your chemist offer any reason for the fact that\nmorphine and bread possess such opposite characters? The earth has one\nsatellite, Saturn is encompassed by a ring; it is not sufficient to\nattempt to refer to these familiar facts; tell me, does your earth-bound\nastronomer explain why the ring of Saturn was selected for that planet?\nWhy are the salts of aluminum astringent, the salts of magnesium\ncathartic, and the salts of arsenicum deadly poison? Ask your\ntoxicologist, and silence will be your answer. Why will some substances\nabsorb moisture from the air, and liquefy, while others become as dry as\ndust under like conditions? Why does the vapor of sulphuric ether\ninflame, while the vapor of chloroform is not combustible, under\nordinary conditions? Oil of turpentine, oil of lemon, and oil of\nbergamot differ in odor, yet they are composed of the same elements,\nunited in the same proportion; why should they possess such distinctive,\nindividual characteristics? Further search of the chemist will explain\nonly to shove the word why into another space, as ripples play with and\ntoss a cork about. Why does the newly-born babe cry for food before its\nintellect has a chance for worldly education? Why--\"\n\n\"Stop,\" I interrupted; \"these questions are absurd.\"\n\n\"So some of your scientific experts would assert,\" he replied; \"perhaps\nthey would even become indignant at my presumption in asking them, and\ncall them childish; nevertheless these men can not satisfy their own\ncravings in attempting to search the illimitable, and in humiliation, or\nirritation, they must ignore the word Why. That word Why to man\ndominates the universe. It covers all phenomena, and thrusts inquiry\nback from every depth. Science may trace a line of thought into the\ninfinitely little, down, down, beyond that which is tangible, and at\nlast in that far distant inter-microscopical infinity, monstrous by\nreason of its very minuteness, must rest its labors against the word\nWhy. Man may carry his superficial investigation into the immeasurably\ngreat, beyond our sun and his family of satellites, into the outer\ndepths of the solar system, of which our sun is a part, past his sister\nstars, and out again into the depths of the cold space channels beyond;\ninto other systems and out again, until at last the nebulae shrink and\ndisappear in the gloom of thought-conjecture, and as the straggling ray\nof light from those farthermost outreaches, too feeble to tell of its\norigin, or carry a story of nativity, enters his eye, he covers his face\nand rests his intellect against the word Why. From the remote space\ncaverns of the human intellect, beyond the field of perception, whether\nwe appeal to conceptions of the unknowable in the infinitely little, or\nthe immeasurably great, we meet a circle of adamant, as impenetrable as\nthe frozen cliffs of the Antarctic, that incomprehensible word--Why!\n\n\"Why did the light wave spring into his field of perception by\nreflection from the microscopic speck in the depths of littleness, on\nthe one hand; and how did this sliver of the sun's ray originate in the\ndepths of inter-stellar space, on the other?\"\n\nI bowed my head.\n\n[Illustration: DESCRIPTION OF JOURNEY FROM K. [KENTUCKY] TO P.--\"THE END\nOF EARTH.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIX.\n\n OSCILLATING THROUGH SPACE.--EARTH'S SHELL ABOVE ME.[14]\n\n [14] For detail illustration of the earth shell, as explained in\n this chapter, see the plate.\n\nContinued my companion:\n\n\"We have just now crossed the line of gravitation. We were drawn\ndownward until at a certain point, to which I called your attention at\nthe time, we recently crossed the curved plane of perfect rest, where\ngravity ceases, and by our momentum are now passing beyond that plane,\nand are now pressing against the bond of gravitation again. This shell\nin which gravity centers is concentric with that of the earth's\nexterior, and is about seven hundred miles below its surface. Each\nmoment of time will now behold us carried farther from this sphere of\nattraction, and thus the increasing distance increases the force of the\nrestraining influence. Our momentum is thus retarded, and consequently\nthe rapidity of our motion is continually decreasing. At last when the\nforces of gravitation and mass motion neutralize each other, we will\ncome to a state of rest again. When our motion in this direction ceases,\nhowever, gravitation, imperishable, continues to exert its equalizing\ninfluence, the result being a start in the opposite direction, and we\nwill then reverse our course, and retrace our path, crossing again the\ncentral band of attraction, to retreat and fly to the opposite side of\nthe power of greater attraction, into the expanse from which we came,\nand that is now above us.\"\n\n\"Can this oscillation ever end? Are we to remain thus, as an unceasing\npendulum, traversing space, to and fro across this invisible shell of\nattraction from now until the end of time?\"\n\n\"No; there are influences to prevent such an experience; one being the\nfriction of the attenuated atmosphere into which we plunge each time\nthat we cross the point of greater gravity, and approach the crust of\nthe earth. Thus each succeeding vibration is in shorter lines, and at\nlast we will come to a state of perfect rest at the center of gravity.\"\n\n\"I can only acquiesce in meek submission, powerless even to argue, for I\nperceive that the foundations for my arguments must be based on those\nobserved conditions of natural laws formerly known to me, and that do\nnot encompass us here; I accept, therefore, your statements as I have\nseveral times heretofore, because I can not refute them. I must close my\neyes to the future, and accept it on faith; I cease to mourn the past, I\ncan not presage the end.\"\n\n\"Well spoken,\" he replied; \"and while we are undergoing this necessary\ndelay, this oscillating motion, to which we must both submit before we\ncan again continue our journey, I will describe some conditions inherent\nin the three spheres of which the rind of the earth is composed, for I\nbelieve that you are now ready to receive and profit by facts that\nheretofore you would have rejected in incredulity.\n\n\"The outer circle, coat, or contour, of which you have heard others\nbesides myself speak, is the surface crust of our globe, the great\nsphere of land and water on which man is at present an inhabitant. This\nis the exposed part of the earth, and is least desirable as a residence.\nIt is affected by grievous atmospheric changes, and restless physical\nconditions, such as men, in order to exist in, must fortify against at\nthe expense of much bodily and mental energy, which leads them,\nnecessarily, to encourage the animal at the expense of the ethereal. The\nunmodified rays of the sun produce aerial convulsions that are marked by\nthermal contrasts, and other meteorological variations, during which the\nheat of summer and the cold of winter follow each other periodically and\nunceasingly. These successive solar pulsations generate winds, calms,\nand storms, and in order to protect himself against such exposures and\nchanges in material surroundings, man toils, suffers, and comes to\nbelieve that the doom, if not the object, of life on earth is the\npreservation of the earthy body. All conditions and phases of nature on\nthis outer crust are in an angry struggle, and this commotion envelops\nthe wretched home, and governs the life of man. The surrounding cyclones\nof force and matter have distorted the peaceful side of what human\nnature might be until the shortened life of man has become a passionate,\ndeplorable, sorrowful struggle for physical existence, from the cradle\nto the grave. Of these facts man is practically ignorant, although each\nindividual is aware he is not satisfied with his condition. If his\nafflictions were obvious to himself, his existence would be typical of a\nlife of desolation and anguish. You know full well that the condition of\nthe outer sphere is, as I have described it, a bleak, turbulent surface,\nthe roof of the earth on which man exists, as a creeping parasite does\non a rind of fruit, exposed to the fury of the ever-present earth\nstorms.\n\n\"The central circle, or medial sphere, the shell, or layer of\ngravitation, lies conformably to the outer configuration of the globe,\nabout seven hundred miles towards its center. It stretches beneath the\nouter circle (sphere) as a transparent sheet, a shell of energy, the\ncenter of gravitation. The material crust of the earth rests on this\nplacid sphere of vigor, excepting in a few places, where, as in the\ncrevice we have entered, gaps, or crevices, in matter exist, beginning\nfrom near the outer surface and extending diagonally through the medial\nand inner spheres into the intra-earth space beyond. This medial sphere\nis a form of pure force, a disturbance of motion, and although without\nweight it induces, or conserves, gravity. It is invisible to mortal\neyes, and is frictionless, but really is the bone of the earth. On it\nmatter, the retarded energy of space, space dust, has arranged itself as\ndust collects on a bubble of water. This we call matter. The material\nportion of the earth is altogether a surface film, an insignificant skin\nover the sphere of purity, the center of gravitation. Although men\nnaturally imagine that the density and stability of the earth is\ndependent on the earthy particles, of which his own body is a part, such\nis not the case. Earth, as man upon the outer surface, can now know it,\nis an aggregation of material particles, a shell resting on this\nglobular sphere of medial force, which attracts solid matter from both\nthe outer and inner surfaces of earth, forming thereby the middle of the\nthree concentric spheres. This middle sphere is the reverse of the\nouter, or surface, layer in one respect, for, while it attracts solids,\ngases are repelled by it, and thus the atmosphere becomes less dense as\nwe descend from the outer surfaces of the earth. The greater degree of\nattraction for gases belongs, therefore, to the earth's exterior\nsurface.\"\n\n\"Exactly at the earth's exterior surface?\" I asked.\n\n\"Practically so. The greatest density of the air is found a few miles\nbelow the surface of the ocean; the air becomes more attenuated as we\nproceed in either direction from that point. Were this not the case, the\natmosphere that surrounds the earth would be quickly absorbed into its\nsubstance, or expand into space and disappear.\"\n\n\"Scientific men claim that the atmosphere is forty-five geographical\nmiles in depth over the earth's surface,\" I said.\n\n\"If the earth is eight thousand miles in diameter, how long would such\nan atmosphere, a skin only, over a great ball, resist such attraction,\nand remain above the globe? Were it really attracted towards its center\nit would disappear as a film of water sinks into a sponge.\"\n\n\"Do you know,\" I interrupted, \"that if these statements were made to men\nthey would not be credited? Scientific men have calculated the weights\nof the planets, and have estimated therefrom the density of the earth,\nshowing it to be solid, and knowing its density, they would, on this\nconsideration alone, discredit your story concerning the earth shell.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE EARTH AND ITS ATMOSPHERE.\n\nThe space between the inner and the outer lines represents the\natmosphere upon the earth. The depth to which man has penetrated the\nearth is less than the thickness of either line, as compared with the\ndiameter of the inner circle.]\n\n\"You mistake, as you will presently see. It is true that man's ingenuity\nhas enabled him to ascertain the weights and densities of the planets,\nbut do you mean to say that these scientific results preclude the\npossibility of a hollow interior of the heavenly bodies?\"\n\n\"I confess, I do.\"\n\n\"You should know then, that what men define as density of the earth, is\nbut an average value, which is much higher than that exhibited by\nmaterials in the surface layers of the earth crust, such as come within\nthe scrutiny of man. This fact allows mortals of upper earth but a vague\nconjecture as to the nature of the seemingly much heavier substances\nthat exist in the interior of the earth. Have men any data on hand to\nshow exactly how matter is distributed below the limited zone that is\naccessible to their investigations?\"\n\n\"I think not.\"\n\n\"You may safely accept, then, that the earth shell I have described to\nyou embraces in a compact form the total weight of the earth. Even\nthough men take for granted that matter fills out the whole interior of\nour planet, such material would not, if distributed as on earth's\nsurface, give the earth the density he has determined for it.\"\n\n\"I must acquiesce in your explanations.\"\n\n\"Let us now go a step further in this argument. What do you imagine is\nthe nature of those heavier substances whose existence deep within the\nearth is suggested by the exceedingly high total density observed by man\non upper earth?\"\n\n\"I am unable to explain, especially as the materials surrounding us\nhere, seemingly, do not differ much from those with which my former life\nexperience has made me acquainted.\"\n\n\"Your observation is correct, there is no essential difference in this\nregard. But as we are descending into the interior of this globe, and\nare approaching the central seat of the shell of energy, the opposing\nforce into which we plunge becomes correspondingly stronger, and as a\nconsequence, matter pressed within it becomes really lighter. Your own\nexperience about your weight gradually disappearing during this journey\nshould convince you of the correctness of this fact.\"\n\n\"Indeed, it does,\" I admitted.\n\n\"You will then readily understand, that the heavy material to which\nsurface-bred mortals allude as probably constituting the interior of the\nearth, is, in fact, nothing but the manifestation of a matter-supporting\nforce, as exemplified in the sphere of attractive energy, the seat of\nwhich we are soon to encounter on our journey. Likewise the mutual\nattraction of the heavenly bodies is not a property solely of their\nmaterial part, but an expression in which both the force-spheres and the\nmatter collected thereon take part.\n\n\"Tell me more of the sphere in which gravitation is intensest.\"\n\n\"Of that you are yet to judge,\" he replied. \"When we come to a state of\nrest in the stratum of greater gravity, we will then traverse this\ncrevice in the sheet of energy until we reach the edge of the earth\ncrust, after which we will ascend towards the interior of the earth,\nuntil we reach the inner crust, which is, as before explained, a surface\nof matter that lies conformably with the external crust of the earth,\nand which is the interior surface of the solid part of the earth. There\nis a concave world beneath the outer convex world.\"\n\n\"I can not comprehend you. You speak of continuing our journey towards\nthe center of the earth, and at the same time you say that after leaving\nthe Median Circle, we will then ascend, which seems contradictory.\"\n\n\"I have endeavored to show you that matter is resting in or on a central\nsphere of energy, which attracts solid bodies towards its central plane.\nFrom this fundamental and permanent seat of gravity we may regard our\nprogress as up-hill, whether we proceed towards the hollow center or\ntowards the outer surface of the globe. If a stick weighted on one end\nis floated upright in water, an insect on the top of the stick above the\nwater will fall to the surface of the liquid, and yet the same insect\nwill rise to the surface of the water if liberated beneath the water at\nthe bottom of the stick. This comparison is not precisely applicable to\nour present position, for there is no change in medium here, but it may\nserve as an aid to thought and may indicate to you that which I wish to\nconvey when I say 'we ascend' in both directions as we pull against\nGravity. The terms up and down are not absolute, but relative.\"\n\nThus we continued an undefined period in mind conversation; and of the\ninformation gained in my experience of that delightful condition, I have\nthe privilege now to record but a small portion, and even this statement\nof facts appears, as I glance backward into my human existence, as if it\nmay seem to others to border on the incredible. During all that time--I\nknow not how long the period may have been--we were alternately passing\nand repassing through the partition of division (the sphere of gravity)\nthat separated the inner from the outer substantial crust of earth. With\neach vibration our line of travel became shorter and shorter, like the\ndecreasing oscillations of a pendulum, and at last I could no longer\nperceive the rushing motion of a medium like the air. Finally my guide\nsaid that we were at perfect rest at a point in that mysterious medial\nsphere which, at a distance of about seven hundred miles below the level\nof the sea, concentrates in its encompassing curvature, the mighty power\nof gravitation. We were fixed seven hundred miles from the outer surface\nof the globe, but more than three thousand from the center.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER L.\n\n MY WEIGHT ANNIHILATED.--\"TELL ME,\" I CRIED IN ALARM, \"IS THIS TO\n BE A LIVING TOMB?\"\n\n\n\"If you will reflect upon the condition we are now in, you will perceive\nthat it must be one of unusual scientific interest. If you imagine a\nbody at rest, in an intangible medium, and not in contact with a gas or\nany substance capable of creating friction, that body by the prevailing\ntheory of matter and motion, unless disturbed by an impulse from\nwithout, would remain forever at absolute rest. We now occupy such a\nposition. In whatever direction we may now be situated, it seems to us\nthat we are upright. We are absolutely without weight, and in a\nperfectly frictionless medium. Should an inanimate body begin to revolve\nhere, it would continue that motion forever. If our equilibrium should\nnow be disturbed, and we should begin to move in a direction coinciding\nwith the plane in which we are at rest, we would continue moving with\nthe same rapidity in that direction until our course was arrested by\nsome opposing object. We are not subject to attraction of matter, for at\nthis place gravitation robs matter of its gravity, and has no influence\non extraneous substances. We are now in the center of gravitation, the\n'Sphere of Rest.'\"\n\n\"Let me think it out,\" I replied, and reasoning from his remarks, I\nmentally followed the chain to its sequence, and was startled as\nsuddenly it dawned upon me that if his argument was true we must remain\nmotionless in this spot until death (could beings in conditions like\nourselves die beyond the death we had already achieved) or the end of\ntime. We were at perfect rest, in absolute vacancy, there being, as I\nnow accepted without reserve, neither gas, liquid, nor solid, that we\ncould employ as a lever to start us into motion. \"Tell me,\" I cried in\nalarm, \"is this to be a living tomb? Are we to remain suspended here\nforever, and if not, by what method can we hope to extricate ourselves\nfrom this state of perfect quiescence?\" He again took the bar of iron\nfrom my hand, and cautiously gave it a whirling motion, releasing it as\nhe did so. It revolved silently and rapidly in space without support or\npivot.\n\n\"So it would continue,\" he remarked, \"until the end of time, were it not\nfor the fact that I could not possibly release it in a condition of\nabsolute horizontal rest. There is a slight, slow, lateral motion that\nwill carry the object parallel with this sheet of energy to the material\nside of this crevice, when its motion will 'be arrested by the earth it\nstrikes.'\"\n\n\"That I can understand,\" I replied, and then a ray of light broke upon\nme. \"Had not Cavendish demonstrated that, when a small ball of lead is\nsuspended on a film of silk, near a mass of iron or lead, it is drawn\ntowards the greater body? We will be drawn by gravity to the nearest\ncliff,\" I cried.\n\n\"You mistake,\" he answered; \"Cavendish performed his experiments on the\nsurface of the earth, and there gravity is always ready to start an\nobject into motion. Here objects have no weight, and neither attract nor\nrepel each other. The force of cohesion holds together substances that\nare in contact, but as gravitation can not now affect matter out of\nmolecular contact with other forms of matter, because of the equilibrium\nof all objects, so it may be likewise said, that bodies out of contact\nhave at this point no attraction for one another. If they possessed this\nattribute, long ago we would have been drawn towards the earth cliff\nwith inconceivable velocity. However, if by any method our bodies should\nreceive an impulse sufficient to start them into motion, ever so gently\nthough it be, we in like manner would continue to move in this\nfrictionless medium--until--\"\n\n\"We would strike the material boundary of this crevice,\" I interrupted.\n\n\"Yes; but can you conceive of any method by which such voluntary motion\ncan now be acquired?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Does it not seem to you,\" he continued, \"that when skillful mechanics\non the earth's surface are able to adjust balances so delicately that in\nthe face of friction of metal, friction of air, inertia of mass, the\nthousandth part of a grain can produce motion of the great beams and\npans of such balances, we, in this location where there is no friction\nand no opposing medium--none at all--should be able to induce mass\nmotion?\"\n\n\"I can not imagine how it is possible, unless we shove each other apart.\nThere is no other object to push against,--but why do you continue to\nhold me so tightly?\" I interrupted myself to ask, for he was clasping me\nfirmly again.\n\n\"In order that you may not leave me,\" he replied.\n\n\"Come, you trifle,\" I said somewhat irritated; \"you have just argued\nthat we are immovably suspended in a frictionless medium, and fixed in\nour present position; you ask me to suggest some method by which we can\ncreate motion, and I fail to devise it, and almost in the same sentence\nyou say that you fear that I will leave you. Cease your incongruities,\nand advise with me rationally.\"\n\n\"Where is the bar of iron?\" he asked.\n\nI turned towards its former location; it had disappeared.\n\n\"Have you not occasionally felt,\" he asked, \"that in your former life\nyour mind was a slave in an earthly prison? Have you never, especially\nin your dreams, experienced a sensation of mental confinement?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Know then,\" he replied, \"that there is a connection between the mind\nand the body of mortal beings, in which matter confines mind, and yet\nmind governs matter. How else could the will of men and animals impart\nvoluntary motion to earthy bodies? With beings situated as are the\nanimals on the surface of the earth, mind alone can not overcome the\nfriction of matter. A person could suspend himself accurately on a\nstring, or balance himself on a pivot, and wish with the entire force of\nhis mind that his body would revolve, and still he would remain at\nperfect rest.\"\n\n\"Certainly. A man would be considered crazy who attempted it,\" I\nanswered.\n\n\"Notwithstanding your opinion, in time to come, human beings on the\nsurface of the earth will investigate in this very direction,\" he\nreplied, \"and in the proper time mental evolution will, by\nexperimentation, prove the fact of this mind and matter connection, and\ndemonstrate that even extraneous matter may be made subservient to mind\ninfluences. On earth, mind acts on the matter of one's body to produce\nmotion of matter, and the spirit within, which is a slave to matter,\nmoves with it. Contraries rule here. Mind force acts on pure space\nmotion, moving itself and matter with it, and that, too, without any\nexertion of the material body which now is a nonentity, mind here being\nthe master.\"\n\n\"How can I believe you?\" I replied.\n\n\"Know, then,\" he said, \"that we are in motion now, propelled by my will\npower.\"\n\n\"Prove it.\"\n\n\"You may prove it yourself,\" he said; \"but be careful, or we will\nseparate forever.\"\n\nReleasing his grasp, he directed me to wish that I were moving directly\nto the right. I did so; the distance widened between us.\n\n\"Wish intensely that you would move in a circle about me.\"\n\nI acquiesced, and at once my body began to circle around him.\n\n\"Call for the bar of iron.\"\n\nI did as directed, and soon it came floating out of space into my very\nhand.\n\n\"I am amazed,\" I ejaculated; \"yes, more surprised at these phenomena\nthan at anything that has preceded.\"\n\n\"You need not be; you move now under the influences of natural laws that\nare no more obscure or wonderful than those under which you have always\nexisted. Instead of exercising its influence on a brain, and thence\nindirectly on a material body, your mind force is exerting its action\nthrough energy on matter itself. Matter is here subservient. It is\nnearly the same as vacuity, mind being a comprehensive reality. The\npositions we have heretofore occupied have been reversed, and mind now\ndominates. Know, that as your body is now absolutely without weight, and\nis suspended in a frictionless medium, the most delicate balance of a\nchemist can not approach in sensitiveness the adjustment herein\nexemplified. Your body does not weigh the fraction of the millionth part\nof a grain, and where there is neither material weight nor possible\nfriction, even the attrition that on surface earth results from a needle\npoint that rests on an agate plate is immeasurably greater in\ncomparison. Pure mind energy is capable of disturbing the equilibrium\nof matter in our situation, as you have seen exemplified by our\nmovements and extraneous materials, 'dead matter' obeys the spiritual.\nThe bar of iron obeyed your call, the spiritless metal is subservient to\nthe demands of intelligence. But, come, we must continue our journey.\"\n\nGrasping me again, he exclaimed: \"Wish with all intensity that we may\nmove forward, and I will do the same.\"\n\nI did so.\n\n\"We are now uniting our energies in the creation of motion,\" he said;\n\"we are moving rapidly, and with continually accelerated speed; before\nlong we will perceive the earthy border of this chasm.\"\n\nAnd yet it seemed to me that we were at perfect rest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LI.\n\n IS THAT A MORTAL?--\"THE END OF EARTH.\"\n\n\nAt length I perceived, in the distance, a crescent-shaped ring of silver\nluster. It grew broader, expanding beneath my gaze, and appeared to\napproach rapidly.\n\n\"Hold; cease your desire for onward motion,\" said the guide; \"we\napproach too rapidly. Quick, wish with all your mind that you were\nmotionless.\"\n\nI did so, and we rested in front of a ridge of brilliant material, that\nin one direction, towards the earth's outer circle, broadened until it\nextended upward as far as the eye could reach in the form of a bold\nprecipice, and in the other towards the inner world, shelved gradually\naway as an ocean beach might do.\n\n\"Tell me, what is this barrier?\" I asked.\n\n\"It is the bisected edge of the earth crevice,\" he said. \"That\noverhanging upright bluff reaches towards the external surface of the\nearth, the land of your former home. That shelving approach beneath is\nthe entrance to the 'Inner Circle,' the concavity of our world.\"\n\nAgain we approached the visible substance, moving gently under the will\nof my guide. The shore became more distinctly outlined as we advanced,\ninequalities that were before unnoticed became perceptible, and the\nsilver-like material resolved itself into ordinary earth. Then I\nobserved, upright and motionless, on the edge of the shore that reached\ntoward the inner shell of earth, towards that \"Unknown Country\" beyond,\na figure in human form.\n\n\"Is that a mortal?\" I asked. \"Are we nearing humanity again?\"\n\n\"It is a being of mortal build, a messenger who awaits our coming, and\nwho is to take charge of your person and conduct you farther,\" he\nreplied. \"It has been my duty to crush, to overcome by successive\nlessons your obedience to your dogmatic, materialistic earth philosophy,\nand bring your mind to comprehend that life on earth's surface is only a\nstep towards a brighter existence, which may, when selfishness is\nconquered, in a time to come, be gained by mortal man, and while he is\nin the flesh. The vicissitudes through which you have recently passed\nshould be to you an impressive lesson, but the future holds for you a\nlesson far more important, the knowledge of spiritual, or mental\nevolution which men may yet approach; but that I would not presume to\nindicate now, even to you. Your earthly body has become a useless shell,\nand when you lay it aside, as you soon can do, as I may say you are\ndestined to do, you will feel a relief as if an abnormal excrescence had\nbeen removed; but you can not now comprehend such a condition. That\nchange will not occur until you have been further educated in the purely\noccult secrets for which I have partly prepared you, and the material\npart of your organism will at any time thereafter come and go at command\nof your will. On that adjacent shore, the person you have observed, your\nnext teacher, awaits you.\"\n\n\"Am I to leave you?\" I cried in despair, for suddenly the remembrance of\nhome came into my mind, and the thought, as by a flash, that this being\nalone could guide me back to earth. \"Recall your words, do not desert me\nnow after leading me beyond even alchemistic imaginings into this\nsubterranean existence, the result of what you call your natural, or\npure, ethereal lessons.\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n\"I beg of you, I implore of you, not to abandon me now; have you no\ncompassion, no feeling? You are the one tie that binds me to earth\nproper, the only intelligence that I know to be related to a human in\nall this great, bright blank.\"\n\nAgain he shook his head.\n\n[Illustration: \"SUSPENDED IN VACANCY, HE SEEMED TO FLOAT.\"]\n\n\"Hearken to my pleadings. Listen to my allegation. You stood on the edge\nof the brook spring in Kentucky, your back to the darkness of that\ngloomy cavern, and I voluntarily gave you my hand as to a guide; I\nturned from the verdure of the earth, the sunshine of the past, and\naccompanied you into as dismal a cavern as man ever entered. I have\nsince alternately rebelled at your methods, and again have trusted you\nimplicitly as we passed through scenes that rational imagination\nscarce could conjure. I have successively lost my voice, my weight, my\nbreath, my heart throb, and my soul for aught I know. Now an unknown\nfuture awaits me on the one hand, in which you say my body is to\ndisappear, and on the other you are standing, the only link between\nearth and my self-existence, a semi-mortal it may be, to speak mildly,\nfor God only knows your true rank in life's scale. Be you man or not,\nyou brought me here, and are responsible for my future safety. I plead\nand beg of you either to go on with me into the forthcoming uncertainty\n'Within the Unknown Country' to which you allude, or carry me back to\nupper earth.\"\n\nHe shook his head again, and motioned me onward, and his powerful will\novercoming my feeble resistance, impelled me towards that mysterious\nshore. I floated helpless, as a fragment of camphor whirls and spins on\na surface of clear, warm water, spinning and whirling aimlessly about,\nbut moving onward. My feet rested on solid earth, and I awkwardly\nstruggled a short distance onward and upward, and then stepped upon the\nslope that reached, as he had said, inward and upward towards the\nunrevealed \"Inner Circle.\" I had entered now that mysterious third\ncircle or sphere, and I stood on the very edge of the wonderful land I\nwas destined to explore, \"The Unknown Country.\" The strange, peaceful\nbeing whom I had observed on the shore, stepped to my side, and clasped\nboth my hands, and the guide of former days waved me an adieu. I sank\nupon my knees and imploringly raised my arms in supplication, but the\ncomrade of my journey turned about, and began to retrace his course.\nSuspended in vacancy, he seemed to float as a spirit would if it were\nwafted diagonally into the heavens, and acquiring momentum rapidly,\nbecame quickly a bright speck, seemingly a silver mote in the occult\nearth shine of that central sphere, and soon vanished from view. In all\nmy past eventful history there was nothing similar to or approaching in\nkeenness the agony that I suffered at this moment, and I question if\nshipwrecked sailor or entombed miner ever experienced the sense of utter\ndesolation that now possessed and overcame me. Light everywhere about\nme, ever-present light, but darkness within, darkness indescribable, and\nmental distress unutterable. I fell upon my face in agony, and thought\nof other times, and those remembrances of my once happy upper earth life\nbecame excruciatingly painful, for when a person is in misery, pleasant\nrecollections, by contrast, increase the pain. \"Let my soul die now as\nmy body has done,\" I moaned; \"for even mental life, all I now possess,\nis a burden. The past to me is a painful, melancholy recollection; the\nfuture is--\"\n\nI shuddered, for who could foretell my future? I glanced at the\nimmovable being with the sweet, mild countenance, who stood silent on\nthe strand beside me, and whom I shall not now attempt to describe. He\nreplied:\n\n\"The future is operative and speculative. It leads the contemplative to\nview with reverence and admiration the glorious works of the Creator,\nand inspires him with the most exalted ideas of the perfections of his\ndivine Creator.\"\n\nThen he added:\n\n\"Have you accepted that whatever seems to be is not, and that that which\nseems not to be, is? Have you learned that facts are fallacies, and\nphysical existence a delusion? Do you accept that material bliss is\nimpossible, and that while humanity is working towards the undiscovered\nland, man is not, can not be satisfied?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said; \"I admit anything, everything. I do not know that I am\nhere or that you are there. I do not know that I have ever been, or that\nany form of matter has ever had an existence. Perhaps material things\nare not, perhaps vacuity only is tangible.\"\n\n\"Are you willing to relinquish your former associations, to cease to\nconcern yourself in the affairs of men? Do you--\"\n\nHe hesitated, seemed to consider a point that I could not grasp; then,\nwithout completing his sentence, or waiting for me to answer, added:\n\n\"Come, my friend, let us enter the expanses of the Unknown Country. You\nwill soon behold the original of your vision, the hope of humanity, and\nwill rest in the land of Etidorhpa. Come, my friend, let us hasten.\"\n\nArm in arm we passed into that domain of peace and tranquillity, and as\nI stepped onward and upward perfect rest came over my troubled spirit.\nAll thoughts of former times vanished. The cares of life faded; misery,\ndistress, hatred, envy, jealousy, and unholy passions, were blotted from\nexistence. Excepting my love for dear ones still earth-enthralled, and\nthe strand of sorrow that, stretching from soul to soul, linked us\ntogether, the past became a blank. I had reached the land of Etidorhpa--\n\nTHE END OF EARTH.\n\n\n\n\nINTERLUDE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LII.\n\n THE LAST FAREWELL.\n\n\nMy mysterious guest, he of the silver, flowing beard, read the last word\nof the foregoing manuscript, and then laid the sheet of paper on the\ntable, and rested his head upon his hand, gazing thoughtfully at the\nopen fire. Thus he sat for a considerable period in silence. Then he\nsaid:\n\n\"You have heard part of my story, that portion which I am commanded to\nmake known now, and you have learned how, by natural methods, I passed\nby successive steps while in the body, to the door that death only, as\nyet, opens to humanity. You understand also that, although of human\nform, I am not as other men (for with me matter is subservient to mind),\nand as you have promised, so you must act, and do my bidding concerning\nthe manuscript.\"\n\n\"But there is surely more to follow. You will tell me of what you saw\nand experienced beyond the end of earth, within the possessions of\nEtidorhpa. Tell me of that Unknown Country.\"\n\n\"No,\" he answered; \"this is the end, at least so far as my connection\nwith you is concerned. You still question certain portions of my\nnarrative, I perceive, notwithstanding the provings I have given you,\nand yet as time passes investigation will show that every word I have\nread or uttered is true, historically, philosophically, and spiritually\n(which you now doubt), and men will yet readily understand how the\nseemingly profound, unfathomable phenomena I have encountered may be\nverified. I have studied and learned by bitter experience in a school\nthat teaches from the outgoings of a deeper philosophy than human\nscience has reached, especially modern materialistic science which,\nhowever, step by step it is destined to reach. And yet I have recorded\nbut a small part of the experiences that I have undergone. What I have\nrelated is only a foretaste of the inexhaustible feast which, in the\nwisdom expanse of the future, will yet be spread before man, and which\ntempts him onward and upward. This narrative, which rests against the\nbeginning of my real story, the Unknown Country and its possibilities\nshould therefore incite to renewed exertions, both mental and\nexperimental, those permitted to review it. I have carried my history to\nthe point at which I can say to you, very soon afterward I gave up my\nbody temporarily, by a perfectly natural process, a method that man can\nyet employ, and passed as a spiritual being into the ethereal spaces,\nthrough those many mansions which I am not permitted to describe at this\ntime, and from which I have been forced unwillingly to return and take\nup the semblance of my body, in order to meet you and record these\nevents. I must await the development and expansion of mind that will\npermit men to accept this faithful record of my history before\ncompleting the narrative, for men are yet unprepared. Men must seriously\nconsider those truths which, under inflexible natural laws, govern the\ndestiny of man, but which, if mentioned at this day can only be viewed\nas the hallucinations of a disordered mind. To many this manuscript will\nprove a passing romance, to others an enigma, to others still it will be\na pleasing study. Men are not now in a condition to receive even this\npaper. That fact I know full well, and I have accordingly arranged that\nthirty years shall pass before it is made public. Then they will have\nbegun to study more deeply into force disturbances, exhibitions of\nenergy that are now known and called imponderable bodies (perhaps some\nof my statements will then even be verified), and to reflect over the\nconnection of matter therewith. A few minds will then be capable of\nvaguely conceiving possibilities, which this paper will serve to\nforetell, for a true solution of the great problems of the ethereal\nunknown is herein suggested, the study of which will lead to a final\nelevation of humanity, such as I dare not prophesy.\"\n\n\"Much of the paper is obscure to me,\" I said; \"and there are occasional\nphrases and repetitions that appear to be interjected, possibly, with\nan object, and which are yet disconnected from the narrative proper.\"\n\n\"That is true; the paper often contains statements that are\nemblematical, and which you can not understand, but yet such portions\ncarry to others a hidden meaning. I am directed to speak to many persons\nbesides yourself, and I can not meet those whom I address more directly\nthan I do through this communication. These pages will serve to instruct\nmany people--people whom you will never know, to whom I have brought\nmessages that will in secret be read between the lines.\"\n\n\"Why not give it to such persons?\"\n\n\"Because I am directed to bring it to you,\" he replied, \"and you are\nrequired:\n\n\"First, To seal the manuscript, and place it in the inner vault of your\nsafe.\n\n\"Second, To draw up a will, and provide in case of your death, that\nafter the expiration of thirty years from this date, the seals are to be\nbroken, and a limited edition published in book form, by one you select.\n\n\"Third, An artist capable of grasping the conceptions will at the proper\ntime be found, to whom the responsibility of illustrating the volume is\nto be entrusted, he receiving credit therefor. Only himself and yourself\n(or your selected agent) are to presume to select the subjects for\nillustration.\n\n\"Fourth, In case you are in this city, upon the expiration of thirty\nyears, you are to open the package and follow the directions given in\nthe envelope therein.\"\n\nAnd he then placed on the manuscript a sealed envelope addressed to\nmyself.\n\n\"This I have promised already,\" I said.\n\n\"Very well,\" he remarked, \"I will bid you farewell.\"\n\n\"Wait a moment; it is unjust to leave the narrative thus uncompleted.\nYou have been promised a future in comparison with which the experiences\nyou have undergone, and have related to me, were tame; you had just met\non the edge of the inner circle that mysterious being concerning whom I\nam deeply interested, as I am in the continuation of your personal\nnarrative, and you have evidently more to relate, for you must have\npassed into that Unknown Country. You claim to have done so, but you\nbreak the thread in the most attractive part by leaving the future to\nconjecture.\"\n\n\"It must be so. This is a history of man on Earth, the continuation will\nbe a history of man within the Unknown Country.\"\n\n\"And I am not to receive the remainder of your story?\" I reiterated,\nstill loth to give it up.\n\n\"No; I shall not appear directly to you again. Your part in this work\nwill have ended when, after thirty years, you carry out the directions\ngiven in the sealed letter which, with this manuscript, I entrust to\nyour care. I must return now to the shore that separated me from my\nformer guide, and having again laid down this semblance of a body, go\nonce more into--\"\n\nHe buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Yes; this strange, cynical\nbeing whom I had at first considered an impertinent fanatic, and then,\nmore than once afterward, had been induced to view as a cunning\nimpostor, or to fear as a cold, semi-mortal, sobbed like a child.\n\n\"It is too much,\" he said, seemingly speaking to himself; \"too much to\nrequire of one not yet immortal, for the good of his race. I am again\nwith men, nearly a human, and I long to go back once more to my old\nhome, my wife, my children. Why am I forbidden? The sweets of Paradise\ncan not comfort the mortal who must give up his home and family, and yet\ncarry his earth-thought beyond. Man can not possess unalloyed joys, and\nblessings spiritual, and retain one backward longing for mundane\nsubjects, and I now yearn again for my earth love, my material family.\nHaving tasted of semi-celestial pleasures in one of the mansions of that\ncomplacent, pure, and restful sphere, I now exist in the border land,\nbut my earth home is not relinquished, I cling as a mortal to former\nscenes, and crave to meet my lost loved ones. All of earth must be left\nbehind if Paradise is ever wholly gained, yet I have still my sublunary\nthoughts.\n\n\"Etidorhpa! Etidorhpa!\" he pleaded, turning his eyes as if towards one I\ncould not see, \"Etidorhpa, my old home calls. Thou knowest that the\nbeginning of man on earth is a cry born of love, and the end of man on\nearth is a cry for love; love is a gift of Etidorhpa, and thou,\nEtidorhpa, the soul of love, should have compassion on a pleading\nmortal.\"\n\nHe raised his hands in supplication.\n\n\"Have mercy on me, Etidorhpa, as I would on you if you were I and I were\nEtidorhpa.\"\n\nThen with upturned face he stood long and silent, listening.\n\n\"Ah,\" he murmured at last, as if in reply to a voice I could not catch,\na voice that carried to his ear an answer of deep disappointment; \"thou\nspokest truly in the vision, Etidorhpa: it is love that enslaves\nmankind; love that commands; love that ensnares and rules mankind, and\nthou, Etidorhpa, art the soul of Love. True it is that were there no\nEtidorhpa, there would still be tears on earth, but the cold,\nmeaningless tears of pain only. No mourning people, no sorrowful\npartings, no sobbing mothers kneeling with upturned faces, no planting\nof the myrtle and the rose on sacred graves. There would be no\nchild-love, no home, no tomb, no sorrow, no Beyond--\"\n\nHe hesitated, sank upon his knees, pleadingly raised his clasped hands\nand seemed to listen to that far-off voice, then bowed his head, and\nanswered:\n\n\"Yes; thou art right, Etidorhpa--although thou bringest sorrow to\nmortals, without thee and this sorrow-gift there could be no bright\nhereafter. Thou art just, Etidorhpa, and always wise. Love is the seed,\nand sorrow is the harvest, but this harvest of sadness is to man the\nrichest gift of love, the golden link that joins the spirit form that\nhas fled to the spirit that is still enthralled on earth. Were there no\nearth-love, there could be no heart-sorrow; were there no craving for\nloved ones gone, the soul of man would rest forever a brother of the\nclod. He who has sorrowed and not profited by his sorrow-lesson, is\nunfitted for life. He who heeds best his sorrow-teacher is in closest\ntouch with humanity, and nearest to Etidorhpa. She who has drank most\ndeeply of sorrow's cup has best fitted herself for woman's sphere in\nlife, and a final home of immortal bliss. I will return to thy realms,\nEtidorhpa, and this silken strand of sorrow wrapped around my heart,\nreaching from earth to Paradise and back to earth, will guide at last my\nloved ones to the realms beyond--the home of Etidorhpa.\"\n\nRising, turning to me, and subduing his emotion, ignoring this outburst,\nhe said:\n\n\"If time should convince you that I have related a faithful history, if\nin after years you come to learn my name (I have been forbidden to\nspeak it), and are convinced of my identity, promise me that you will do\nyour unbidden guest a favor.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"I STOOD ALONE IN MY ROOM HOLDING THE MYSTERIOUS\nMANUSCRIPT.\"]\n\n\"This I will surely do; what shall it be?\"\n\n\"I left a wife, a little babe, and a two-year-old child when I was taken\naway, abducted in the manner that I have faithfully recorded. In my\nsubsequent experience I have not been able to cast them from my memory.\nI know that through my error they have been lost to me, and will be\nuntil they change to the spirit, after which we will meet again in one\nof the waiting Mansions of the Great Beyond. I beg you to ascertain, if\npossible, if either my children, or my children's children live, and\nshould they be in want, present them with a substantial testimonial.\nNow, farewell.\"\n\nHe held out his hand, I grasped it, and as I did so, his form became\nindistinct, and gradually disappeared from my gaze, the fingers of my\nhand met the palm in vacancy, and with extended arms I stood alone in my\nroom, holding the mysterious manuscript, on the back of which I find\nplainly engrossed:\n\n \"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio,\n Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.\"\n\n\n\n\nEPILOGUE.\n\n LETTER ACCOMPANYING THE MYSTERIOUS MANUSCRIPT.\n\n\nThe allotted thirty years have passed, and as directed, I, Llewellyn\nDrury, now break the seals, and open the envelope accompanying the\nmysterious package which was left in my hand, and read as follows:\n\n Herein find the epilogue to your manuscript. Also a picture of\n your unwelcome guest, I--Am--The--Man, which you are directed to\n have engraved, and to use as a frontispiece to the volume. There\n are men yet living to bear witness to my identity, who will need\n but this picture to convince them of the authenticity of the\n statements in the manuscript, as it is the face of one they knew\n when he was a young man, and will recognize now that he is in\n age. Do not concern yourself about the reception of the work, for\n you are in no wise responsible for its statements. Interested\n persons, if living, will not care to appear in public in\n connection therewith, and those who grasp and appreciate, who can\n see the pertinence of its truths, who can read between the lines\n and have the key to connected conditions, will assuredly keep\n their knowledge of these facts locked in their own bosoms, or\n insidiously oppose them, and by their silence or their attacks\n cover from men outside the fraternity, their connection with the\n unfortunate author. They dare not speak.\n\n Revise the sentences; secure the services of an editor if you\n desire, and induce another to publish the book if you shrink from\n the responsibility, but in your revision do not in any way alter\n the meaning of the statements made in the manuscript; have it\n copied for the printer, and take no part in comments that may\n arise among men concerning its reception.[15] Those who are best\n informed regarding certain portions thereof, will seemingly be\n least interested in the book, and those who realize most fully\n these truths, will persistently evade the endorsement of them.\n The scientific enthusiast, like the fraternity to which I belong,\n if appealed to, will obstruct the mind of the student either by\n criticism or ridicule, for many of these revelations are not\n recorded in his books.\n\n [15] From a review of the fac simile (see p. 35), it will be seen\n that an exact print word for word could not be expected. In more\n than one instance subsequent study demonstrated that the first\n conception was erroneous, and in the interview with Etidorhpa\n (see p. 252), after the page had been plated, it was discovered\n that the conveyed meaning was exactly the reverse of the\n original. Luckily the error was discovered in time to change the\n verse, and leave the spirit of this fair creature\n unblemished.--J. U. L.\n\n You are at liberty to give in your own language as a prologue the\n history of your connection with the author, reserving, however,\n if you desire to do so, your personality, adding an introduction\n to the manuscript, and, as interludes, every detail of our\n several conversations, and of your experience. Introduce such\n illustrations as the selected artist and yourself think proper in\n order to illuminate the statements. Do not question the\n advisability of stating all that you know to have occurred; write\n the whole truth, for although mankind will not now accept as fact\n all that you and I have experienced, strange phases of life\n phenomena are revealing themselves, and humanity will yet surely\n be led to a higher plane. As men investigate the points of\n historical interest, and the ultra-scientific phenomena broached\n in this narrative, the curtain of obscurity will be drawn aside,\n and evidence of the truths contained in these details will be\n disclosed. Finally, you must mutilate a page of the manuscript\n that you may select, and preserve the fragment intact and in\n secret. Do not print another edition unless you are presented\n with the words of the part that is missing.[16]\n\n [16] I have excised a portion (see p. 190).--J. U. L.\n\n (Signed.) I--Am--The--Man.\n\n\nNOTE BY MR. DRURY.--Thus the letter ended. After mature consideration it\nhas been decided to give verbatim most of the letter, and all of the\nmanuscript, and to append, as a prologue, an introduction to the\nmanuscript, detailing exactly the record of my connection therewith,\nincluding my arguments with Professors Chickering and Vaughn, whom I\nconsulted concerning the statements made to me directly by its author. I\nwill admit that perhaps the opening chapter in my introduction may be\nsuch as to raise in the minds of some persons a question concerning my\nmental responsibility, for as the principal personage in this drama\nremarks: \"Mankind can not now accept as facts what I have seen.\" Yet I\nwalk the streets of my native city, a business man of recognized\nthoughtfulness and sobriety, and I only relate on my own responsibility\nwhat has to my knowledge occurred. It has never been intimated that I am\nmentally irresponsible, or speculative, and even were this the case, the\nmaterial proof that I hold, and have not mentioned as yet, and may not,\nconcerning my relations with this remarkable being, effectually\ndisproves the idea of mental aberration, or spectral delusion. Besides,\nmany of the statements are of such a nature as to be verified easily, or\ndisproved by any person who may be inclined to repeat the experiments\nsuggested, or visit the localities mentioned. The part of the whole\nproduction that will seem the most improbable to the majority of\npersons, is that to which I can testify from my own knowledge, as\nrelated in the first portion and the closing chapter. This approaches\nnecromancy, seemingly, and yet in my opinion, as I now see the matter,\nsuch unexplained and recondite occurrences appear unscientific, because\nof the shortcomings of students of science. Occult phenomena, at some\nfuture day, will be proved to be based on ordinary physical conditions\nto be disclosed by scientific investigations [for \"All that is is\nnatural, and science embraces all things\"], but at present they are\nbeyond our perception; yes, beyond our conception.\n\nWhether I have been mesmerized, or have written in a trance, whether I\nhave been the subject of mental aberration, or have faithfully given a\nlife history to the world, whether this book is altogether romance, or\ncarries a vein of prophecy, whether it sets in motion a train of wild\nspeculations, or combines playful arguments, science problems, and\nmetaphysical reasonings, useful as well as entertaining, remains for the\nreader to determine. So far as I, Llewellyn Drury, am concerned, this\nis--\n\nTHE END.\n\n[Illustration: handwritten script]\n\nHad the above communication and the missing fragment of manuscript been\nwithheld (see page 161), it is needless to say that this second edition\nof Etidorhpa would not have appeared.\n\nOn behalf of the undersigned, who is being most liberally scolded by\nfriends and acquaintances who can not get a copy of the first edition,\nand on behalf of these same scolding mortals, the undersigned extends to\nI-Am-The-Man the collective thanks of those who scold and the\nscolded.--J. U. L.\n\n[Illustration: handwritten script]\n\nThis introduction, which in the author's edition was signed by the\nwriter, is here reprinted in order that my views of the book be not\nmisconstrued.--J. U. L.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF\n\nPROF. DANIEL VAUGHN\n\nBY PROF. RICHARD NELSON\n\nTO WHICH IS ADDED\n\nAN ACCOUNT OF HIS DEATH\n\nBY FATHER EUGENE BRADY, S.J.\n\n\n\n[Illustration: PROF. DANIEL VAUGHN.]\n\n\nStory of the Life of Prof. Daniel Vaughn.[17]\n\n\n [17] Reprinted from the Cincinnati Tribune.\n\nBY PROF. RICHARD NELSON.\n\nHIS VALUABLE LIBRARY SHOWING MARKS OF MUCH STUDY.\n\nTwelve Years' Record in the Chair of Chemistry at the Cincinnati College\nof Medicine.\n\n[A paper read before the Literary Club by Prof. Richard Nelson.]\n\n\nFew men, if any, so eminent in science and philosophy have been known to\nlive and die in such obscurity as the subject of this paper. A\nmathematician whose knowledge has never been fathomed, an original\ninvestigator in terrestrial and celestial chemistry, most of whose\nspeculations are now accepted as law; a contributor to the philosophical\njournals of Europe, whose papers were received with distinguished favor;\nan astronomer, who, in those papers, ventured to differ with Laplace,\nand, too, as will be shown, a man skilled in classical scholarship, yet\nunknown to his nearest neighbors and recognized by only a few in his own\ncity. He lived and died in obscurity and poverty in a city distinguished\nfor its schools of science and art, and the liberality and public spirit\nof its men of wealth; who, if any, were to blame? One object of this\npaper is to unravel the mystery.\n\n\nHIS BIRTHPLACE AND PARENTAGE.\n\nDaniel Vaughn was born in the year 1818 at Glenomara, four miles from\nKillaloe, County Clare, Ireland. His father's name was John, who had two\nbrothers, Daniel and Patrick. John, like Daniel, was educated for the\nchurch, but, being the eldest son, remained on the farm. Daniel became,\nsubsequently, the parish priest of Killaloe, and in 1845 was ordained\nBishop.\n\nJohn Vaughn had three children, Daniel (the subject of this paper), Owen\nand Margaret, afterward Mrs. Kent. The distance to the nearest school\nbeing four Irish miles, John had his sons educated by a tutor till they\nwere prepared to enter a classical academy.\n\nAt the age of about sixteen Dan, as he was familiarly called, was placed\nunder the care of his uncle and namesake at Killaloe, where he entered\nthe academy. There the young student pursued the study of Greek, Latin\nand mathematics, giving some attention to certain branches of physics,\nfor which he evinced peculiar aptitude.\n\n\nHE EMIGRATES AND FINDS A HOME.\n\nAbout the year 1840 his uncle, desirous of having the young man enter\nthe church, advanced him a sum of money to defray his expenses at a\ntheological school in Cork, but on seeing the American liners when he\nreached Queenstown, the temptation to take the voyage to the land of\npromise was too great for the young adventurer to resist, so he secured\na passage to New York. When at school he made wonderful advancement in\nstudy, especially in higher mathematics, and felt he ought to go to a\ncountry where he could be free to pursue his favorite line of thought\nand where attainments in science would not be circumscribed, as in the\nchurch.\n\nOf his voyage and subsequent wanderings little is known until he reached\nKentucky. That he visited many schools and paid his way in part by\nteaching there is no question. The college of the late Dr. Campbell, in\nVirginia, was one of the institutions visited, but he felt he must push\non to Kentucky. About 1842 he had reached the Blue Grass region, near\nthe home of the late Colonel Stamps, in Bourbon County. The Colonel saw\nhim engaged at work and was quick to observe that the stranger was no\ncommon man. Taking him to his house and supplying his wants, the Colonel\nsoon installed him as his guest, and eventually made him instructor of\nhis children. Access to the Colonel's library was a boon to the\nstranger, developing in him traits of genius of which his host was very\nproud.\n\nIt was only a short time till the neighboring farmers heard of the\ndistinguished young scholar, and desired to have the more mature members\nof their families under his care. A school was opened in the Colonel's\nhouse for instruction in the higher mathematics, the classics, geology,\nphysical geography and astronomy. The young people were pleased with\ntheir teacher and made commendable progress, but the curriculum was too\nvaried and comprehensive for an instructor, who, though far advanced in\nscholarship, had not yet studied the art of teaching.\n\n\nACCEPTS A PROFESSORSHIP.\n\nIn 1845 he accepted the chair of Greek in a neighboring college, which\nafforded him leisure for his scientific pursuits. After an absence of\nseven years the Professor returned to his old friend, Colonel Stamps and\nfamily, where he remained some two years, leaving them to settle in\nCincinnati.\n\nDuring his stay at the Colonel's (1851) he became a member of the\nAmerican Association for the Advancement of Science, and in 1852\ncontributed to it his first article, entitled \"On the Motions of\nNumerous Small Bodies and the Phenomena Resulting Therefrom.\" Having\naccumulated a valuable collection of books on science and philosophy and\nobtained access to several libraries, public and private, in the city,\nhe was now in a condition to devote most of his time and energies to his\nfavorite sciences. For subsistence he delivered lectures before\nteachers' institutes and colleges till 1856, when an affection of the\nlungs compelled him to abandon the lecture field.\n\nIn the meantime he had offered papers for publication to Silliman's\nJournal, the principal scientific magazine of America at that time,\nbut, receiving no response to his communications and being denied\npublication, he took the advice of a friend and sent his subsequent\narticles to the British Association for the Advancement of Science and\nto the Philosophic Magazine, where they were received with favor. He was\nmuch gratified to find his article on \"Meteoric Astronomy\" published in\nthe report of the Liverpool meeting of the association in 1854. Six\npapers, which he subsequently sent in 1857, 1859 and 1861, met with\nsimilar favor.\n\nFor several years he visited schools, colleges and teachers' institutes\nin Oxford, Lebanon, Cleveland and other cities, lecturing on his\nfavorite branches of science. It had been his intention to popularize\nthe science of physical astronomy by the publication of tracts or\npamphlets.\n\n\nPUBLISHES PAMPHLETS.\n\nIn the year 1856, at the request of teachers before whom he had lectured\nat the institutes, and with a view to popularize scientific knowledge,\nthe Professor commenced the publication of pamphlets. The first number\ntreated of \"The Geological Agency of Water and Subterranean Forces.\"\nOnly two of these pamphlets came into the possession of the\nadministrator. One of them was a good-sized volume, as may be inferred\nfrom the following articles it contained:\n\n \"The Influence of Magnitude on Stability.\"\n \"The Doctrine of Gravitation.\"\n \"Theory of Tides.\"\n \"Effects of Tides.\"\n \"Cases of Excessive Tidal Action and Planetary Instability.\"\n \"The Rings of Saturn.\"\n \"The Supposed Influence of Satellites in Preserving Planetary Rings.\"\n \"Movements of Comets.\"\n \"The Tails of Comets.\"\n \"Mass and Density of Comets.\"\n \"Cometary Catastrophes.\"\n \"Phenomena Attending the Fall of Meteors.\"\n \"The Origin of Solar and Meteoric Light.\"\n \"Variable Stars and the Sun's Spots.\"\n \"Temporary Stars.\"\n \"Electrical Light and the Aurora Borealis.\"\n \"Proof of the Stability of the Solar System,\" with an appendix.\n\nSome of these subjects had been treated of at greater length and\npublished by American and British associations for the advancement of\nscience.\n\nHe sent to the British Association for the Advancement of Science:\n\n \"Cases of Planetary Instability Indicated by the Appearance of\n Temporary Stars.\"\n \"Appearance of Temporary Stars.\"\n\nOther papers appeared:\n\n \"Note on the Sunspots,\" Philosophical Magazine for December, 1858.\n \"On the Solar Spots and Variable Stars,\" idem, Vol. 15, p. 359.\n \"Changes in the Conditions of Celestial Bodies,\" an essay.\n \"The Origin of Worlds,\" Popular Science Monthly, May, 1879.\n \"Planetary Rings and New Stars,\" Popular Science Monthly,\n February, 1879.\n \"Astronomical History of Worlds,\" idem, September, 1878.\n \"On the Stability of Satellites in Small Orbits and the Theory of\n Saturn's Rings,\" Philosophical Magazine, May, 1861.\n \"On the Origin of the Asteroids.\" Contributed to the American\n Association for the Advancement of Science.\n \"Static and Dynamic Stability in the Secondary Systems,\"\n Philosophical Magazine, December, 1861.\n \"On Phenomena which May be Traced to the Presence of a Medium\n Pervading all Space,\" idem, May 11, 1861.\n\nThe Professor contributed to other publications on both sides of the\nAtlantic, but as he failed to retain copies of the articles or of the\nmagazines in which they were published, doubtless many papers of\ninterest are among the number.\n\nThe year 1860 found the Professor possessed of a valuable collection of\nbooks, the accumulation of ten or fifteen years, all showing the marks\nof wear, some of them besmeared with the drippings from his candle.\nAmong them were works of some of the most prominent authors in branches\nof theoretical and practical science. Those of Laplace, Kepler,\nTycho-Brahe, Leibnitz, Herschel, Newton and others, together with many\npamphlets and periodicals, composed his library. He possessed a familiar\nknowledge of the German, French, Italian and Spanish languages, and of\nancient Greek and Latin. Many of his papers appeared in the continental\nlanguages. It may be here stated that for the eminent astronomer,\nLaplace, as a scientist and writer, Prof. Vaughn entertained great\nrespect, though he could not accept his nebular hypothesis, because\nimportant parts of it would not bear mathematical investigation. [The\nproof is in the papers in my possession.--N.] In an article of the\nProfessor to the Popular Science Monthly (February, 1879) is a case of\nthe kind, showing that the distinguished astronomer ignored his own\nfamous theory. The article reads: \"In endeavoring to account for the\ndirect motion in secondary systems Laplace contends that, in consequence\nof friction the supposed primitive solar rings would have a greater\nvelocity in their outer than in their inner zones. Now, if friction is\nto counteract to such an extent the normal effects of gravitation, it\nmust be an eternal bar against the origin of worlds by nebulous\ndismemberment, and if the ring of attenuated matter were placed under\nthe circumstances suggested by the eminent astronomer, it would be\nultimately doomed, not to form a planet, but to coalesce with the\nimmense spheroid of fiery vapor it was supposed to have environed.\"\n\nIt is interesting to know that the theory of our Professor was the\ncorrect one, as proved by a recent discovery of Prof. James E. Keeler,\nastronomer of the Allegheny Observatory. As announced in a daily paper:\n\"Prof. James E. Keeler, of the Allegheny Observatory, has made a\nwonderful discovery. It is a scientific and positive demonstration of\nthe fact that the rings of Saturn are made up of many small bodies and\nthat the satellites of the inner edge of the rings move faster than the\nouter.\"\n\nAs to satellites, Prof. Vaughn, in the paper quoted, page 466, states:\n\"The matter spread over the wide annular fields is ever urged by its own\nattraction to collect together and form satellites, which are ever\ndestroyed by attractive disturbance of the primary, and have their parts\nscattered once more over a wide space.\"\n\n\nINSTALLED AS PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY.\n\nThe Professor was elected to the chair of chemistry in the Cincinnati\nCollege of Medicine and Surgery in 1860, where he served with\ndistinction for twelve years. His scholarly valedictory at that\ninstitution is one of the papers reserved for publication in his\nmemoirs.\n\nWhile in the college he continued his investigations in science,\napplying his knowledge of terrestrial chemistry to the chemistry of the\nheavens, as shown in nearly all his writings. Besides the position held\nin the college, he gave lessons in schools and seminaries in geology,\nastronomy, chemistry, Latin and Greek.\n\nIn 1873 he visited Lexington, where he met his old friend, Dr. J. C.\nDarby, and delivered lectures in public, at the Sayre Institute and the\nBaptist School, returning to Cincinnati the following spring. Except\nfrom his writings, he seemed to have no source of revenue for several\nyears. How he managed to exist his most intimate friends could only\nconjecture. True, he contributed papers to monthly publications, but\nthey appeared at such long intervals they could not be relied on for\nsupport, so, in the autumn of 1878 his friends organized for him a\ncourse of lectures, which were well patronized by physicians and others\nversed in science. In the meantime, negotiations were opened with\nprominent citizens of suburban towns for other lectures, and efforts\nwere made to retire the Professor on an annuity.\n\n\nHIS END DRAWING NEAR.\n\nEnfeebled health, which confined him to his room for several weeks,\nprevented him from entering on the suburban course, so a second course\nwas projected for the city and one of the lectures delivered. From what\ntranspired after that lecture his friends were again anxious regarding\nhis health, and, as the time approached for the delivery of the second,\ndetermined to see him. For reasons stated elsewhere it was with some\ndifficulty he was found. Prostrated on a couch, he was suffering from a\nhemorrhage of the lungs of a few days previous, with evidences all\naround of a state of extreme destitution. No time was lost in having him\nremoved to comfortable quarters in the Good Samaritan Hospital, where\nhis friends arranged for his care as a private patient. Next day, April\n3, he expressed himself as greatly benefited by the change and talked\ncheerfully and hopefully of the future. Next day, Friday, he continued\nto improve, but on Saturday proof of his forthcoming article in the\nPopular Science Monthly reached him, and, feeling that he ought to\nreturn it promptly, he sat up to do the work. The effort was too great.\nOvercome with exhaustion after its completion, he sank to sleep and a\nlittle after two o'clock next morning, April 6, his weary spirit\npeacefully took its flight. Born in 1818, the Professor was then in the\nsixty-first year of his age.\n\n\nHIS OBSEQUIES.\n\nA committee of the more intimate friends of the deceased was formed,\nconsisting of the late Jacob Traber, his nephew, J. C. Sproull, Drs. J. J.\nand William Taft and the writer.\n\nFuneral services were held in the chapel of the Hospital, where,\nconsidering the suddenness of the Professor's demise, many mourners were\npresent. The interest evinced was profound, while the floral tributes\nthat covered the casket were eloquent of affection and esteem.\n\nThe remains were interred in a burial lot of Jacob Traber, who\ngenerously tendered its use until a separate place of interment and a\nmonument could be procured. The remains of the two friends now lie side\nby side.\n\n\nHIS EFFECTS.\n\nAfter the funeral the committee referred to visited the room occupied by\nthe Professor prior to his decease, and had the writer, as his nearest\nfriend, procure letters of administration, so that papers of value, if\nany, would be cared for. A few letters, some private relics, unsalable\nremnants of books and pamphlets and scraps of manuscript constituted the\neffects. The scarcity of manuscript was easily accounted, for, as it was\nthe habit of the deceased for years to print articles designed for\npublication and have them mailed to magazines and to savants in\ndifferent parts of Europe and America.\n\n\nCHARACTERISTICS AND HABITS OF STUDY.\n\nA prominent characteristic of Prof. Vaughn was shyness--a shrinking from\nfamiliarity or conspicuousness. He never was the first to salute a\ncasual acquaintance on the street, and when introduced to a stranger\nwould extend his hand with apparent diffidence or reserve--not with the\nwarmth of a hearty shake, but rather with a cautious presentation of the\nfinger tips. Undemonstrative in manner, and inexperienced in the customs\nof social life, his diffidence was taken for coldness, yet he was kind\nand tender hearted almost to a fault, and a most grateful recipient of a\nfavor. In his poverty he would part with money or personal property to\npeople whom he considered more necessitous than himself. Of the proceeds\nof his last course of lectures he gave to one such a sum so large as to\nalmost discourage his friends from helping him.\n\nThen, too, he was glad to render service to professional and public men.\nHe made translations for writers and wrote lectures for others and made\nchemical analyses for the city when payment was not expected. As to his\nplacing a commercial value upon his services he never learned to do it,\nthough they often cost him both time and money that he could not well\nspare.\n\nHis waking hours were always fully occupied in writing or study, either\nin his laboratory, the libraries or in open-air observations. He was\nthoroughly familiar with the geology of the neighborhood and the\nphysical geography of the entire continent, as may be seen by his\narticles on \"Volcanoes,\" \"The Origin of Lakes and Mountains,\" \"The\nAbsence of Trees on Prairies,\" \"Malaria,\" etc. His ingenuity in the\nconstruction of apparatus for his illustrations in chemistry was\nremarkable. Given a few tubes of glass and rubber, a piece of tin, some\nacid and alkali, a blow-pipe, soldering iron and a pair of pinchers, he\ncould construct at will enough apparatus for a lesson, a lecture or an\nanalysis.\n\nConsidering his poverty, it may be questioned how he was able to\nmaintain a laboratory. For twelve years he found a room at the Medical\nCollege. At other times he extemporized quarters at his humble lodgings,\nwhere the same apartment was to him laboratory, study and living room.\nSuch a room he could not find in a private house, so he sought it\nelsewhere, as in the tenement in which he was found in his last\nillness. That life necessarily isolated him from society, its pleasures\nand advantages before he became familiar with the laws by which it was\ngoverned.\n\nHaving acquired a mastery of Greek and Latin in his youth, he had a good\npreparation for the acquisition of the modern languages; besides, to\nprosecute his studies and investigations, he found it necessary to\nunderstand most of the languages of Europe.\n\nException has been taken to the Professor's manner as a lecturer. When\nwe consider his natural diffidence in the presence of strangers we are\nsurprised that he attempted to lecture at all. Take his case when he\nlast lectured,--his lecture hall, the operating room of the Dental\nCollege, and his platform that of the operator with his audience around\nbut elevated a few feet above him. The position was an exceedingly\ntrying one, and some time elapsed before he was able to make a good\nstart. While hesitating, on such occasions, his eyes would wander around\nthe audience till they rested on those of a familiar friend. Immediately\nhe addressed himself to that person, and confidence was restored. Like\nother public speakers we know of, he continued to address himself\nchiefly to the one selected, however embarrassing it might be to that\nindividual.\n\n\nHIS RELIGIOUS LIFE.\n\nThe Professor was a Bible student, if we judge from fragments found\namong his effects and a well-worn Bible, now a relic in possession of a\nformer student. The book is a curiosity, worn as is the cover with marks\nof his fingers as he held it, often with a candle in his hand, as shown\nby occasional drippings on the page and cover.\n\nHe was not a member of any church. At least, had not been up to a month\nbefore his decease, though he visited churches of all denominations and\nwas familiar with their doctrines and polity. His religion consisted in\nhis living up to his highest ideas of right and truth; hence he was\ncharitable almost to a fault. When he had not money to give, he parted\nwith his books.\n\nAn eloquent public speaker, referring to his private life, has said: \"He\nwas social, kind and humane. He took pleasure in instructing the\nchildren and communing with friends--good men and women, who loved and\nadmired him--and his humanity was gratified in bestowing what he valued\nmost--knowledge. To him nothing seemed more precious than truth, and to\nshed the light of it abroad. His heart was in his work, and without a\nglance to the right or left, he pursued his arduous quest.\"\n\nOf the works of creation which occupied so much of his thoughts, the\nProfessor's views may be had by reading the following concluding remarks\nfound in his \"Physical Astronomy:\"\n\n\"Whatever doubts may hang over all speculations respecting distant\nevents, either of past or future time, we have reason to believe that\nour universe will ever exhibit great and useful operations throughout\nits extensive domains. From the ruins of some celestial bodies others\nwill rise to act a part in the drama of the physical creation in future\nages. Though nature's work may all decay, her laws remain the same, and\nnumerous agencies, obedient to their control and aided by occasional\ninterventions of creative power, must maintain the heavens forever in a\nharmonious condition and transform innumerable spheres into seats of\nlight and intelligence. While the laws of nature have been thus widely\nordained for such great ends, their simplicity renders them intelligible\nto the limited powers of the human mind, and the immense universe thus\nbecomes a vast field of intellectual enjoyment for man.\"\n\n\nTESTIMONY OF THE LATE DR. JOHN HANCOCK.\n\nThe late Dr. Hancock, in writing to Mrs. J. W. McLaughlin, stated that he\nattended institute lectures of Prof. Vaughn, making his acquaintance at\na meeting of the Southwestern Ohio Normal Institute. The Professor was\nengaged to lecture on his favorite specialties, physical geography and\nastronomy. \"It is my recollection,\" says the doctor, \"that Prof. Vaughn\nwas a graduate of Trinity Collage, Dublin. However that may be, there\ncan be no doubt as to his wide and profound scholarship. He was not only\ndeeply versed in the physical sciences, but was equally proficient in\nthe classics and mathematics. It is said by competent judges that he\nread Greek and Latin as he would English, as though he thought in those\nlanguages, and he was one of the few Americans who read through\nLaplace's 'Mechanique Celeste.' He had a prodigious memory. At the\nOxford Institute, to which I have referred, some dozen of the leading\nmembers, Prof. Vaughn among them, got up some literary games requiring\nwide reading and retentive memories for successful rivalry. In these\ngames the Professor showed a wealth of reading and an ability to use it\non the instant that I have never seen approached by any other scholar.\nIt is needless to say that he was first in the game and the rest\nnowhere.\n\n\"Some ten years afterward, when connected with Nelson's Commercial\nCollege, I edited a little educational paper, the News and Educator, of\nwhich Mr. Nelson was proprietor. In this relation I came much more\nfrequently in contact with Prof. Vaughn than I ever did before. To this\npaper he contributed a number of articles on scientific subjects, but,\nbeing printed in an obscure local paper, they attracted little\nattention.\"\n\n\nREMINISCENCES OF MRS. STAMPS.\n\nMrs. Eliza Stamps, widow of the late Colonel Stamps, in giving her\nexperience with the Professor, said: \"He was a very industrious student,\nin his profound researches pursuing them to the exclusion of every thing\nelse. He would frequently forget the demands of hunger and disregard the\nsummons to his meals. As to his engaging in innocent amusements, he\nconsidered it a sacrifice of valuable time; yet, lest he should be\naccused of selfishness or wanting in social etiquette, he sometimes left\nhis books to unite with the children in their games, and, diffident\nthough he was, would occasionally take part in the dance.\n\n\"He enjoyed the Colonel's library, but soon exhausted its resources and\nthose of the neighbors; so, to obtain a supply, he would go on foot to\nCincinnati, one hundred miles distant, and return in the same manner,\nloaded with new books.\"\n\nThroughout his after life he gave evidence of his great respect and\naffection for Colonel Stamps, his benefactor, and his family, and the\nyoung ladies and gentlemen who had been his pupils, who never ceased to\nvenerate him for his learning, or to love and cherish his memory. Some\nsuch were among the mourners at his funeral.\n\n\nREPUTATION IN ENGLAND.\n\nThe late Jacob Traber, one of the most intimate friends of the\nProfessor, has written: \"In the year 1858 I was in the office of John\nSayre, bookseller, High Holborn, where I made the purchase of books that\nwere yet in the hands of the printer. I gave my address and directions\nfor shipping. When in the act of leaving the office I was accosted by an\nelderly gentleman who, with the apology, 'Beg pardon, I overheard you\nwhen you gave your address, Cincinnati, and desire to make inquiry about\none of your distinguished citizens, Daniel Vaughn. Assuming that you\nknow him, may I ask how long it is since you have seen him?' I replied\nthat I had known the Professor some four years, and had met him but a\nfew months ago. At that time I regarded the Professor as a mechanical\ngenius of the speculative type, and so expressed myself. A quick\nrejoinder came in that broad and forcible accent of an Englishman: 'If\nyou Cincinnati people vote Vaughn as a speculative mechanic, the ripest\nand profoundest mathematical scholar in England may be marked as his\napprentice. You have a treasure in that man. Why, sir, we send him\nproblems that fail to be mastered here, and speedily have them back not\nonly with a solution, but with the demonstration.' The speaker proved to\nbe one of the ablest scholars and scientists in Europe.\"\n\n\nFIXING THE RESPONSIBILITY FOR HIS CONDITION.\n\nThe subject of this paper, it will be inferred, did not inherit a\npatrimony, yet he contributed his valuable services to many worthy\nobjects without pecuniary compensation. As has been stated, his great\npleasure, next to the investigation of truth, was to impart useful\nknowledge and help the needy. When in the medical college he was paid\nwith shares of stock on which a dividend was never declared, and when\nengaged in lecturing and teaching his diffidence prevented him from\nplacing a sufficient value on his services. Living the life of a\nrecluse, he concealed his poverty from his nearest friends, who were\nignorant even of his address. Then, he never sought a gratuity, and his\nfriends could only learn by conjecture when he was in need. When asked\nif his privations did not cause him much anxiety, he said they gave him\nno concern.\n\nOn more than one occasion the writer, at the request of men of wealth\nand influence, proposed to retire him on an annuity, but he modestly but\nfirmly declined to accept, and it was not until after the announcement\nof his last course that he consented. Then the proposition was to pay\nhis expenses at a hotel of his choice and advance him money for his\npersonal expenses, for which he was to lecture when and where he might\nchoose. The gentlemen most active in this project were the following,\nnow deceased: Henry Peachy, William F. Corry, Jacob Traber, Colonel\nGeoffrey and others. Favorably known to the public were Drs. J. J. and\nWilliam Taft, Dr. Thad Reamy, J. C. Sproull, etc.\n\nThe project had so far matured that the writer and another had arranged\nwith Mr. Peachy to make the Lafayette National Bank the custodian of the\nfunds. Had the Professor survived, he would have enjoyed a life of\nleisure and comfort, at one of the most prominent hotels in the city.\n\nThe people of Cincinnati were, therefore, not responsible for the\npoverty of our friend, nor for the state of destitution in which he was\nfound prior to his removal to the hospital.\n\n\n\n\nACCOUNT OF THE DEATH OF PROF. VAUGHN, BY REV. EUGENE BRADY, S.J.\n\n [Concerning the last days of Professor Vaughn, the following from\n the pen of Father Brady, pastor of St. Xavier's Church, is of\n special interest. This is peculiarly appropriate by reason of the\n fact that Father Brady, while a boy, attended the college during\n the time Professor Vaughn taught in Bardstown, Kentucky, and\n finally comforted him in his last moments.--J. U. L.]\n\n \"MY DEAR MR. LLOYD:--\n\n \"Concerning the foot-note on page 160 of Etidorhpa. The\n description of Daniel Vaughn is correct. The story of his\n privations is quite true. He was so absorbed in science as to be\n self-neglectful. Moreover, he was grossly neglected by those _who\n made use of his labors_.\n\n \"A servant girl told the venerable Sister Anthony that a poor\n lodger was dying in destitution in the west end of the city. The\n lodger was Professor Vaughn. The Sister had the good man conveyed\n to the Good Samaritan Hospital on April 1, 1879. She made him\n comfortable, as he repeatedly declared. He died on April 6, 1879.\n _Thoroughly conscious_ up to the last moment, _it was at his\n request_ that the undersigned had the melancholy pleasure of\n administering to him the last rites of the Catholic Church. It was\n neither delirium nor senility that revived his faith. He was but\n sixty-one years of age, and as rational as ever in life.\"\n\n --EUGENE BRADY, S.J.\n\n\n\n\n\nETIDORHPA.\n\nTO THE RECIPIENTS OF THE AUTHOR'S EDITION OF ETIDORHPA:\n\n\nThat so large an edition as 1,299 copies of an expensive book,\npreviously unseen by any subscriber, should have been taken in advance\nby reason of a mere announcement, is complimentary to the undersigned;\nand yet this very confidence occasioned him not a little anxiety. Under\nsuch circumstances to have failed to give, either in workmanship or\nsubject-matter, more than was promised in the announcement of Etidorhpa,\nwould have been painfully embarrassing.\n\nNot without deep concern, then, were the returns awaited; for, while\nneither pains nor expense were spared to make the book artistically a\nprize, still, beautiful workmanship and attractive illustrations may\nserve but to make more conspicuous other failings. Humiliating indeed\nwould it have been had the recipients, in a spirit of charity, spoken\nonly of artistic merit and neat bookwork.\n\nWhen one not a bookman publishes a book, he treads the danger-line. When\nsuch a person, without a great publishing-house behind him, issues a\nbook like Etidorhpa--a book that, spanning space, seemingly embraces\nwild imaginings and speculation, and intrudes on science and\nreligion--he invites personal disaster.\n\nThat in the case of the Author's Edition of Etidorhpa the reverse\nhappily followed, is evidenced by hundreds of complimentary letters,\nwritten by men versed in this or that section wherein the book intrudes;\nand in a general way the undersigned herein gratefully extends his\nthanks to all correspondents--thanks for the cordial expressions of\napproval, and for the graceful oversights by critics and correspondents,\nthat none better than he realizes have been extended towards blemishes\nthat must, to others, be not less apparent than they are to himself.\n\nSince general interest has been awakened in the strange book Etidorhpa,\nand as many readers are soliciting information concerning its reception,\nit is not only as a duty, but as a pleasure, that the undersigned\nreproduces the following abstracts from public print concerning the\nAuthor's Edition, adding, that as in most cases the reviews were of\ngreat length and made by men specially selected for the purpose, the\nbrief notes are but fragments and simply characteristic of their general\ntenor.\n\nThe personal references indulged by the critics could not be excised\nwithout destroying the value of the criticisms, and the undersigned can\noffer no other apology for their introduction than to say that to have\nexcluded them would have done an injustice to the writers.\n\n Respectfully,\n JOHN URI LLOYD.\n\n\n\n\nETIDORHPA AS A WORK OF ART.\n\nPROFESSOR S. W. WILLIAMS, WYOMING, OHIO.\n\n\nIf a fine statue or a stately cathedral is a poem in marble, a\nmasterpiece of the printer's art may be called a poem in typography.\nSuch is Etidorhpa. In its paper, composition, presswork, illustrations,\nand binding--it is the perfection of beauty. While there is nothing\ngaudy in its outward appearance, there is throughout a display of good\ntaste. The simplicity of its neatness, like that of a handsome woman, is\nits great charm. Elegance does not consist in show nor wealth in\nglitter; so the richest as well as the costliest garb may be rich in its\nvery plainness. The illustrations were drawn and engraved expressly for\nthis work, and consist of twenty-one full-page, half-tone cuts, and over\nthirty half-page and text cuts, besides two photogravures. The best\nartistic skill was employed to produce them, and the printing was\ncarefully attended to, so as to secure the finest effect. Only enameled\nbook paper is used; and this, with the wide margins, gilt top, trimmed\nedges, and clear impressions of the type, makes the pages restful to the\neyes in reading or looking at them. The jacket, or cover, which protects\nthe binding, is of heavy paper, and bears the same imprint as the book\nitself. Altogether, as an elegant specimen of the bookmakers' art it is\na credit to the trade. All honor to the compositors who set the type,\nthe artists who drew and engraved the illustrations, the electrotyper\nwho put the forms into plate, the pressman who worked off the sheets,\nand the binder who gathered and bound them in this volume.\n\n\n\n\nREVIEWS OF ETIDORHPA.\n\n\n[Sidenote: B. O. Flower, Editor of The Arena, Boston.]\n\nThe present is an age of expectancy, of anticipation, and of prophecy;\nand the invention or discovery or production that occupies the attention\nof the busy world, as it rushes on its self-observed way, for more than\nthe passing nine day's wonder, must needs be something great indeed.\nSuch a production has now appeared in the literary world in the form of\nthe volume entitled \"Etidorhpa, or the End of Earth;\" the very title of\nwhich is so striking as to arrest the attention at once.\n\nA most remarkable book.... Surpasses, in my judgment, any thing that has\nbeen written by the elder Dumas or Jules Verne, while in moral purpose\nit is equal to Hugo at his best.... It appeals to the thoughtful\nscientist no less than to the lover of fascinating romance.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Mr. Herbert Bates, in the Commercial Gazette, Cincinnati.]\n\nIn summing, I would say that I have found the book distinctly\nstimulating. It is odd, but with the oddity of force. It has passages of\nuncanny imagination, but they excellently evade the enormous and\nextravagant. It is a book that by its title and by such features as\nstrike one at a hurried glance might easily repel. Yet it is a book\nthat, studied carefully, calls for re-reading and deep meditation. Its\ntheories are capable of scientific demonstration, its imaginings, while\nthey may not be fact, are always consistent with it. The reader who lets\nthe outside repel him errs sadly. Let him read it, and he will be as\nchanged in his position toward it, as ready to convert others, as is the\nreviewer, who picked it up with foreboding and laid it down with the\nsense of having read great thoughts.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Dr. W. H. Venable.]\n\n\"The End of Earth\" is not like any other book. The charm of adventure,\nthe excitement of romance, the stimulating heat of controversy, the keen\npursuit of scientific truth, the glow of moral enthusiasm, are all found\nin its pages. The book may be described as a sort of philosophical\nfiction, containing much exact scientific truth, many bold theories, and\nmuch ingenious speculation on the nature and destiny of man.... The\noccult and esoteric character of the discussions adds a strange\nfascination to them. We can hardly classify, by ordinary rules, a work\nso unusual in form and purpose, so discursive in subject-matter, so\nunconventional in its appeals to reason, religion and morality.... The\ndirect teaching of the book, in so far as it aims to influence conduct,\nis always lofty and pure.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Letter from Sir Henry Irving, to the Author.]\n\n\"_My Dear Sir:_ Let me thank you most heartily for sending me the\nspecial copy of your wonderful book 'Etidorhpa,' which I shall ever\nvalue. I may say that when by chance I found it in Cincinnati I read it\nwith the greatest interest and pleasure, and was so struck by it that I\nhave sent copies to several friends of mine here and at home. I hope I\nmay have the pleasure of meeting you some day either here or in London.\nI remain, sincerely yours, HENRY IRVING.\n\n \"20th March, 1896.\"\n\n\n[Sidenote: Etidorhpa as a work of art. Prof. S. W. Williams.]\n\nIf a fine statute or a stately cathedral is a poem in marble, a\nmasterpiece of the printer's art may be called a poem in typography.\nSuch is \"Etidorhpa.\" In its paper, composition, presswork,\nillustrations, and binding--it is the perfection of beauty. While there\nis nothing gaudy in its outward appearance, there is throughout a\ndisplay of good taste.\n\nThe illustrations were drawn and engraved expressly for this work, and\nconsist of twenty-one full-page, half-tone cuts, and over thirty\nhalf-page and text cuts, besides two photogravures. The best artistic\nskill was employed to produce them, and the printing was carefully\nattended to, so as to secure the finest effect.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Eclectic Medical Journal, Cincinnati.]\n\nNo one could have written the chapter on the \"Food of Man\" but Professor\nLloyd; no one else knows and thinks of these subjects in a similar\nway.... The \"old man's\" description of \"the spirit of stone,\" \"the\nspirit of plants,\" and finally, \"the spirit of man,\" is very fine, but\nthose who hear Professor Lloyd lecture catch Lloyd's impulses\nthroughout. The only regret one has in reading this entrancing work is,\nthat it ends unexpectedly, for the End of Earth comes without a\ncatastrophe. It should have been a hundred pages longer; the reader\nyearns for more, and closes the book wistfully.\n\n\n[Sidenote: New Idea, Detroit.]\n\nOne of the great charms of the book is the space between the lines,\nwhich only the initiated can thoroughly comprehend. Don't fail to read\nand re-read Etidorhpa. Be sure and read it in the light of\ncontemporaneous literature, for without doing so, its true beauty will\nnot appear. Aside from its subject-matter, the excellency of the\nworkmanship displayed by the printer, and artistic beauty of the\nillustrations, will make Etidorhpa an ornament to any library.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Cincinnati Student.]\n\nThis book, to use the words of the editor of the Chicago Inter-Ocean, is\n\"the literary novelty of the year.\"... In a literary sense, according to\nall reviewers, it abounds with \"word-paintings of the highest order\"--in\nsome chapters being \"terrible\" in its vividness, several critics\nasserting that Dante's Inferno has nothing more realistic....\n\n\n[Sidenote: The British and Colonial Druggist, London, England.]\n\nWe have read it with absorbed interest, the vividly-depicted scenes of\neach stage in the miraculous journey forming a theme which enthralls the\nreader till the last page is turned. Many new views of natural laws are\ngiven by the communicator, and argued between him and Drury, into which,\nand into the ultimate intent of Etidorhpa, we will not attempt to enter,\nbut will leave it for each reader to peruse, and draw his own\nconclusions.... Professor Lloyd's style is quaint and polished, and\nperfectly clear. The printing and paper are all that can be desired, and\nan abundance of artistic and striking illustrations are admirably\nreproduced.\n\n\n[Sidenote: New York World.]\n\nEtidorhpa, the End of the Earth, is in all respects the worthiest\npresentation of occult teachings under the attractive guise of fiction\nthat has yet been written. Its author, Mr. John Uri Lloyd, of\nCincinnati, as a scientist and writer on pharmaceutical topics, has\nalready a more than national reputation, but only his most intimate\nfriends have been aware that he was an advanced student of occultism.\nHis book is charmingly written, some of its passages being really\neloquent; as, for instance, the apostrophe to Aphrodite--whose name is\nreversed to make the title of the story. It has as thrilling situations\nand startling phenomena as imagination has ever conceived.... There is\nno confusion between experiences and illusions, such as are common in\nthe works of less instructed and conscientious writers treating of such\nmatters. He knows where to draw the line and how to impress perception\nof it, as in the four awful nightmare chapters illustrating the curse of\ndrink. Etidorhpa will be best appreciated by those who have \"traveled\nEast in search of light and knowledge.\"...\n\n\n[Sidenote: John Clark Ridpath, LL.D.]\n\nWe are disposed to think \"Etidorhpa\" the most unique, original, and\nsuggestive new book that we have seen in this the last decade of a not\nunfruitful century.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Times-Star, Cincinnati.]\n\nIt is as fascinating as the richest romance by Dumas, and mysterious and\nawe-inspiring as the wild flights of Verne. Hugo wrote nothing more\nimpassioned than those terrible chapters where \"The-Man-Who-Did-It\"\ndrinks liquor from the mushroom cup. There never was a book like it. It\nfalls partly in many classes, yet lies outside of all. It will interest\nall sorts and conditions of men and it has that in it which may make it\npopular as the most sensational novel of the day. Intricate plotting,\nmarvelous mysteries, clear-cut science without empiricism, speculative\nreasoning, sermonizing, historical facts, and bold theorizing make up\nthe tissue of the story, while the spirit of Etidorhpa, the spirit of\nlove, pervades it all.... Happy is the scientist who can present science\nin a form so inviting as to charm not only the scholars of his own\nprofession, but the laymen besides. This, Professor John Uri Lloyd has\ndone in his Etidorhpa.\n\n\n[Sidenote: The Inter-Ocean, Chicago.]\n\nFor eighteen years the writer has been seated at his desk, and all kinds\nof books have been passed in review, but has never before met with such\na stumper as Etidorhpa. Its name is a stunner, and its title-page,\nhead-lines, and weird, artistic pictures send you such a ghastly welcome\nas to make goblins on the walls, and fill the close room with spooks and\nmystery. The writer has only known of Professor Lloyd as a scientist and\nan expert in the most occult art of the pharmacist, and can scarcely\nconceive him in the role of the mystic and romancer in the region\nheretofore sacred to the tread of the supernatural.... The book is the\nliterary novelty of the year, but those interested in such lines of\nthought will forget its novelties in a profound interest in the themes\ndiscussed.\n\n\n[Sidenote: The Chicago Medical Times.]\n\nThe work stands so entirely alone in literature, and possesses such a\nmarvelous versatility of thought and idea, that, in describing it, we\nare at a loss for comparison. In its scope it comprises alchemy,\nchemistry, science in general, philosophy, metaphysics, morals, biology,\nsociology, theosophy, materialism, and theism--the natural and\nsupernatural.... It is almost impossible to describe the character of\nthe work. It is realistic in expression, and weird beyond Hawthorne's\nutmost flights. It excels Bulwer-Lytton's Coming Race and Jules Verne's\nmost extreme fancy. It equals Dante in vividness and eccentricity of\nplot.... The entire tone of the work is elevating. It encourages thought\nof all that is ennobling and pure. It teaches a belief and a faith in\nGod and holy things, and shows God's supervision over all his works. It\nis an allegory of the life of one who desires to separate himself from\nthe debasing influences of earth, and aspires to a pure and noble\nexistence, as beautiful and as true to the existing conditions of human\nlife as Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. The sorrow; the struggle with self;\nthe physical burdens; the indescribable temptations with the presence\nand assistance of those who would assist in overcoming them; the dark\nhours, Vanity Fair, and the Beulahland, are all there.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Indianapolis Journal.]\n\nIn every respect the volume bearing the title Etidorhpa, or the End of\nthe Earth, is a most remarkable book. Typographically, it is both unique\nand artistic--as near perfection in conception and execution as can be\nconceived.... The author is John Uri Lloyd, of Cincinnati, a scientific\nwriter whose pharmaceutical treatises are widely known and highly\nvalued. That a man whose mind and time have been engrossed with the\naffairs of a specialist and man of affairs could have found time to\nenter the field of speculation, and there display not only the most\nextensive knowledge of the exact natural sciences, and refute what is\nheld to be scientific truth with bold theories and ingenious\nspeculations on the nature and destiny of man is marvelous....\n\nThe Addenda is as original as the book itself, consisting, as it does,\nof a list of names, some of whom are not subscribers, but to whom the\nauthor is deeply obliged, or whom he regards as very dear friends, and\nthose of a few whom he personally admires.... If each of them has a copy\nof Etidorhpa, or the End of the Earth, he possesses a book which is not\nlike any other book in the world.\n\n\n[Sidenote: Cleveland Leader.]\n\nIt relates to a journey made by the old man under the guidance of a\npeculiar being into the interior of the earth. The incidents of this\njourney overshadow any thing that Verne ever wrote in his palmiest days.\nBut perhaps the most singular part of it is that they are all based on\nscientific grounds. Dr. Lloyd, the author of the volume, is one of the\ndeepest students, and is well known as a profound writer on subjects\npertaining to his profession, as well as one who has taken much pains in\nstudying the occult sciences.... The book is a very pleasant one to\nread, a little redundant at times, but full of information.... Readers\nwho succeed in securing it will be very lucky indeed.\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER NOTES:\n\n Punctuation corrected without note.\n\n page 47: no illustration is found in the original book for\n this reference.\n\n page 228: \"siezed\" changed to \"seized\" (The guide seized me by the\n hand).\n\n page 284: \"begun\" changed to \"began\" (began a narcotic\n hallucination).\n\n page 338: \"comformably\" changed to \"conformably\" (that lies\n conformably with the external crust).\n\n page 385: \"wierd\" changed to \"weird\" (and weird, artistic pictures).","title":"Etidorhpa; or, The End of Earth.: The Strange History of a Mysterious Being and the Account of a Remarkable Journey","tradition":"ritual-magic","translated_text":null,"word_count":120628}