a journey in other worlds-第45章

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bishop　had　spoken。　　Passing　through　the　houses　of　some　of　the
clubs　to　which　he　belonged；　he　saw　his　name　still　upon　the　list
of　members；　and　then　he　went　to　the　places　of　amusement　he　knew
so　well。　　On　all　sides　were　familiar　faces；　but　what　interested
him　most　was　the　great　division　incessantly　going　on。　　Here　were
jolly　people　enjoying　life　and　playing　cards；　who；　his　foresight
showed　him；　would　in　less　than　a　year　be　under　ground　like
Mercutio；　in　〃Romeo　and　Juliet；〃　to…day　known　as　merry　fellows；
who　to…morrow　would　be　grave　men。
　　　
While　his　eyes　beheld　the　sun；　he　had　imagined　the　air　felt　warm
and　balmy。　　He　now　saw　that　this　had　been　a　hallucination；　for　he
was　chilled　through　and　through。　　He　also　perceived　that　be　cast
no　shadow；　and　that　no　one　observed　his　presence。　　He；　on　the
other　hand；　saw　not　only　the　air　as　it　entered　and　left　his
friends'　lungs；　but　also　the　substance　of　their　brains；　and　the
seeds　of　disease　and　death；　whose　presence　they　themselves　did
not　even　suspect；　and　the　seventy…five　per　cent　of　water　in　their
bodies；　making　them　appear　like　sacks　of　liquid。　　In　some　he　saw
the　germs　of　consumption；　in　others；　affections　of　the　heart。　　In
all；　he　saw　the　incessant　struggle　between　the　healthy
blood…cells　and　the　malignant；　omnipresent　bacilli　that　the　cells
were　trying　to　overcome。　　Many　men　and　women　he　saw　were　in　love；
and　he　could　tell　what　all　were　about　to　do。　　Oh；　the　secrets
that　were　revealed；　while　the　motives　for　acts　were　now　laid　bare
that　till　then　he　had　misunderstood！　　He　had　often　heard　the　old
saying；　that　if　every　person　in　a　ball…room　could　read　the
thoughts　of　the　rest；　the　ball　would　seem　a　travesty　on
enjoyment；　rather　than　real　pleasure；　and　now　he　perceived　its
force。　　He　also　noticed　that　many　were　better　than　he　had
supposed；　and　were　trying；　in　a　blundering　but　persevering　way；
to　obey　their　consciences。　　He　saw　some　unselfish　thoughts　and
acts。　　Many　things　that　he　had　attributed　to　irresolution　or
inconsistency；　he　perceived　were　in　reality　self…　sacrifice。　　He
went　on　in　frantic　disquiet；　distance　no　longer　being　of
consequence；　and　in　his　roaming　chanced　to　pass　through　the
graveyard　in　which　many　generations　of　his　ancestors　lay　buried。
Within　the　leaden　coffins　he　saw　the　cold　remains；　some　well
preserved；　others　but　handfuls　of　dust。
　　　
〃Tell　me；　O　my　progenitors；〃　he　cried；　〃you　whose　blood　till　this
morning　flowed　in　my　veins；　is　there　not　some　way　by　which　I；　as
a　spirit；　can　commune　with　the　material　world？　　I　have　always
admired　your　judgment　and　wisdom；　and　you　have　all　been　in
Shadowland　longer　than　I。　　Give　me；　I　pray　you；　some　ancestral
advice。〃
　　　
The　only　sound　in　answer　was　the　hum　of　the　insects　that　filled
the　evening　air。　　The　moonlight　shone　softly；　but　in　a　ghastly
way；　on　the　marble　crosses　of　his　vault　and　those　around；　and　he
felt　an　unspeakable　sadness　within　this　abode　of　the　dead。　　〃How
many　unfinished　lives；〃　he　thought；　〃have　ended　beneath　these
sods！　　Unimproved　talents　here　are　buried　in　the　ground。　
Unattained　ambitions；　and　those　who　died　before　their　time；　those
who　tried；　in　a　half…hearted　way；　to　improve　their　opportunities；
and　accomplished　something；　and　those　who　neglected　them；　and　did
still　lessall　are　together　here；　the　just　with　the　unjust；
though　it　be　for　the　last　time。　　The　grave　absorbs　their　bodies
and　ends　their　probationary　record；　from　which　there　is　no
appeal。〃
　　　
Near　by　were　some　open　graves；　ready　to　receive　their　occupants；
while　a　little　farther　on　he　recognized　the　Cortlandt　mausoleum；
looking　exactly　as　when　shown　him；　through　his　second　sight；　by
the　spirit　on　the　previous　day。
　　　
From　the　graves　filled　recently；　and　from　many　others；　rose
threads　of　coloured　matter；　in　the　form　of　gases；　the　forerunners
of　miasma。　　He　now　perceived　shadowy　figures　flitting　about　on
the　ground　and　in　the　air；　from　whose　eyes　poured　streams　of
immaterial　tears。　　Their　brains；　hearts；　and　vertebral　columns
were　the　parts　most　easily　seen；　and　they　were　filled　with　an
inextinguishable　anguish　and　sorrow　that　from　its　very　intensity
made　itself　seen　as　a　blue　flame。　　The　ruffles　and　knickerbockers
in　which　some　of　these　were　attired；　evidently　by　the　effects　of
the　thoughts　in　their　minds；　doubtless　from　force　of　habit　from
what　they　had　worn　on　earth　while　alive；　showed　that　they　had
been　dead　at　least　two　hundred　years。　　Ayrault　also　now　found
himself　in　street　clothes；　although　when　in　his　clubs　he　had　worn
a　dress　suit。
　　　
〃Tell　me；　fellow…spirits；〃　he　said；　addressing　them；　〃how　can　I
communicate　with　one　that　is　still　alive？〃
　　　
They　looked　at　him　with　moist　eyes；　but　answered　not　a　word。
　　　
〃I　attributed　the　misery　in　my　heart；〃　thought　Ayrault；　〃entirely
to　the　distress　at　losing　Sylvia；　which　God　knows　is　enough；　but
though　I　suspected　it　before；　I　now　see；　by　my　companions；　that　I
am　in　the　depths　of　hell。〃



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　CHAPTER　XII。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　SHEOL。

Failing　to　find　words　to　convey　his　thoughts；　he　threw　himself
into　an　open　grave；　praying　that　the　earth　might　hide　his　soul；
as　he　had　supposed　it　some　day　would　hide　his　body。　　But　the
ground　was　like　crystal；　and　he　saw　the　white　bones　in　the　graves
all　around　him。　　Unable　to　endure　these　surroundings　longer；　he
rushed　back　to　his　old　haunts；　where　he　knew　he　should　find　the
friends　of　his　youth。　　He　did　not　pause　to　go　by　the　usual　way；
but　passed；　without　stopping；　through　walls　and　buildings。　　Soon
he　beheld　the　familiar　scene；　and　heard　his　own　name　mentioned。　
But　there　was　no　comfort　here；　and　what　he　had　seen　of　old　was
but　an　incident　to　what　he　gazed　on　now。　　Praying　with　his　whole
heart　that　he　might　make　himself　heard；　he　stepped　upon　a
foot…stool；　and　cried：
　　　
〃Your　bodies　are　decaying　before　me。　　You　are　burying　your
talents　in　the　ground。　　We　must　all　stand　for　final　sentence　at
the　last　day；　mortals　and　spirits　alike　there　is　not　a　shadow
of　a　shade　of　doubt。　　Your　every　thought　will　be　known；　and　for
every　evil　deed　and　every　idle　word　God　will　bring　us　into
judgment。　　The　angel　of　death　is　among　you　and　at　work　in　your
very　midst。　　Are　you　prepared　to　receive　him？　　He　has　already
killed　my　body；　and　now　that　I　can　never　die　I　wish　there　was　a
grave　for　my　soul。　　I　was　reassured　by　a　vision　that　told　me　I
was　safe；　but　either　it　was　a　hallucination；　or　I　have　been
betrayed　by　some　spirit。　　Last　night　I　still　lived；　and　my　body
obeyed　my　will。　　Since　then　I　have　experienced　death；　and　with
the　resulting　increased　knowledge　comes　the　loss　of　all　hope；
with　keener　pangs　than　I　supposed　could　exist。　　Oh；　that　I　had
now　their　opportunities；　that　I　might　write　a　thesis　that　should
live　forever；　and　save　millions　of　souls　from　the　anguish　of
mine！　　Inoculate　your　mortal　bodies　with　the　germs　of　faith　and
mutual　love；　in　a　stronger　degree　than　they　dwelt　in　me；　lest　you
lose　the　life　above。〃
　　　
But　no　one　heard　him；　and　he　preached　in　vain。
　　　
He　again　rushed　forth；　and；　after　a　half…involuntary　effort；
found　himself　in　the　street　before　his　loved　one's　home。　
Scarcely　knowing　why；　except　that　it　had　become　nature　to　wish　to
be　near　her；　he　stood　for　a　long　time　opposite　her　dwelling。
　　　
〃O　house！〃　he　cried；　〃inanimate　object　that　can　yet　enthral　me
so；　I　stand　before　your　cold　front　as　a　suppliant　from　a　very
distant　realm；　yet　in　my　sadness　I　am　colder　than　your　stones；
more　alone　than　in　a　desolate　place。　　She　that　dwells　within　you
holds　my　love。　　I　long　for　her　shadow　or　the　sound　of　her　step。　
I　am　more　wretchedly　in　love　than　everI；　an　impotent；　invisible
spirit。　　Must　I　bear　this　sorrow　in　addition　to　my　others；　in　my
fruitless　search　for　rest？　　My　life　will　be　a　waking　nightmare；
most　bitter　irony　of　fate。〃
　　
The　trees　swayed　above　his　head；　and　the　moon；　in　its　last
quarter；　looked　dreamily　at　him。
　　　
〃Ah；〃　thought　Ayrault；　〃could　I　but　sleep　and　be　happy！　
Drowsiness　and　weariness；　fatigue's　grasp　is　on　me；　or　may
Sylvia's　nearness　soothe；　as　her　voice　has　brought　me　calm！　
Quiet　I　may　some　day　enjoy；　but　slumber　again；　never！　　I　see　that
souls　in　hades　must　ever　have　their　misdeeds　before　them。　　Happy
man　in　this　world；　the　repentant's　sins　are　forgiven！　　You　lose
your　care　in　sleep。　　Somnolence　and　drowsinessbalm　of　aching
hearts；　angels　of　mercy！　　Mortals；　how　blessed！　until　you　die；
God　sends　you　this　rest。　　When　I　recall　summer　evenings　with
Sylvia；　while　gentle　zephyrs　fanned　our　brows；　I　would　change
Pope's　famous　line　to　'Man　never　is；　but　always　HAS　BEEN
blessed。'〃
　　　
A　clock　in　a　church…steeple　now　struck　three；　the　sound　ringing
through　the　still　night　air。
　　　
〃It　will　soon　be　time　for　ghosts　to　go；〃　thought　Ayrault。　　〃I
must　not　haunt　her　dwelling。〃
　　　
There　was　a　light　in　Sylvia's　study；　and　Ayrault　remained
meditatively　gazing　at　it。
　　　
〃Happy　lamp；〃　he　thought；　〃to　shed　your　light　on　one　so　fair！　
She　can　see　you；　and　you　shine；　for　her。　　You　are　better　off　than
I。　　Would　that　her　soul　might　shine　for　me；　as　your　light　shines
for　her！　　The　light　of　my　life　has　departed。　　O　that　the　darkness
were　complete！　　I　am　dead；〃　his　thoughts　ran　on；　and　when　the
privilege　bitter　word！that　permits　me　to　remain　here　has
expired；　I　must　doubtless　return　to　Saturn；　and　there　in
purgatory　work　out　my　probation。　　But　what　comfort　is　it　that　a
few　centuries　hence　I　may　be　able　to　revisit　my　native　earth？

　　　　　　　The　flowers　will　bloom　in　the　morning　light；
　　　　　　　　　　　And　the　lark　salute　the　sun；
　　　　　　　The　earth　will　continue　to　roll　through　space；
　　　　　　　And　I　may　be　nearer　my　final　grace；
　　　　　　　　　　　But　Sylvia's　life…thread　will　be　spun。


〃Even　Sylvia's　house　will　be　a　heap　of　ruins；　or　its　place　will
be　taken　by　something　else。　　If　I　had　Sylvia；　I　should　care　for
nothing；　as　I　have　lost　her；　even　this　sight；　though　sweet；　must
always　bring　regret。　　I　wish；　at　all　events；　I　might　see　Sylvia；
if　only　with　these　spirit…eyes；　since；　as　a　mortal；　she　may　never
gladden　my　sight　again。〃
　　　
To　his　surprise；　he　now　perceived　that　he　could　see；
notwithstanding　the　drawn　shades。　　Sylvia　was　at　her
writing…desk；　in　a　light…coloured　wrapper。　　She　sat　there　resting
her　head　on　her　hand；　looking　thoughtful　but　worried。　　Though　it
was　so　late；　she　had　not　retired。　　The　thrush　that　Ayrault　had
often　in　life　admired；　and　that　she　had　for　some　reason　brought
up…stairs；　was　silent　and　asleep。
　　　
〃Happy　bird！〃　he　said；　〃you　obtain　rest　and　forgetfulness　on
covering　your　head；　but　what　wing　can　cover　my　soul？　　I　used　to
wish　I　might　flutter　towards　heaven　on　natural　wings　like　you；
little　thrush。　　Now　I　can；　indeed；　outfly　you。　　But　whatever　I　do
I'm　unhappy；　and　wherever　I　go　I'm　in　hell。　　What　is　man　in　his
helpless；　first　spiritual　state？　　He　is　but　a　flower；　and　withers
soon。　　Had　I；　like　the　bishop；　been　less　blind；　and　obeyed　my
conscience　clear；　I　might　have　returned　to　my　native　earth　while
Sylvia　still　sojourns　here；　and　coming　thus　by　virtue　of
development；　I　should　be　able　to　commune　with　her。
　　　
〃What　is　life？〃　he　continued。　　〃In　the　retrospect；　nothing。　　It
seems　to　me　already　as　but　an　infinitesimal　point。