第15章

"Thisdayyourdoubtswillbeatrest,forbeforeanothersunsetyouwillknowmoreofthewomanyoulove。"

Theintensityofthespiritualisticinfluenceheresomewhatweakened,forhepartiallylostsightoftheluminousfigures,andcouldnolongerhearwhattheysaid。Hisheartwasinhismouthashewalked,andhefeltlikeamanabouttosetoutonhishoneymoon,orlikeabridewhoknowsnotwhethertolaughortocry。Anindescribableexhilarationwasconstantlypresent。

"Iwonder,"thoughthe,"ifacaterpillarhasthesesensationsbeforebecomingabutterfly？ThoughIreturntotherockfromwhichIsprang,IbelieveIshallbewithSylviato—day。"

Footprintsformedinthesoftgroundallaroundhim,andtheairwasfilledwithspotsofphosphorescentlightthatcoincidedwiththerelativepositionsofthebrains,hearts,andeyesofhumanbeings。Thesesurroundedandoftenprecededhim,asthoughleadinghimon,whilethemostheavenlyanthemsfilledtheairandthevaultofthesky。

"Ibelieve,"hethought,withboundingheart,"thatIshallbeinitiatedintothemysteriesofspacethisnight。"

Attimeshecouldheareventhewordsofthechorusesringinginhisears,thoughatothershethoughttheeffectwasaltogetherinhismind。

"Oh,foraproof,"heprayed,"thatnosanemancandoubt！Myfaithisimplicitinthebishopandthevision,andIfeelthatinsomewayIshallreturntoeartherethecloseofanotherday,forIknowIamawake,andthatthisisnodream。"

Afireburnedinthemouthofthecave,withinwhichBearwardenandCortlandtlaysleeping。Thespecksofmicaintherocksreflecteditslight,butinadditiontothisadiffusedphosphorescencefilledtheplace,andthelargesod—coveredstonestheyusedforpillowsemittedpurpleanddarkredflames。

"Isthatyou,Dick？"askedBearwarden,awakingandgropingabout。

"Webuiltupthefiresothatyoushouldfindthecamp,butitseemstohavegonedown。"Sayingwhich,hestruckamatch,whereuponAyraultceasedtoseethephosphorescenceorbluishlight。AtthatmomentapealofthunderawakenedCortlandt,whosatupandrubbedhiseyes。

"Ithink,"saidAyrault,"IwillgototheCallistoandgetourmackintoshesbeforetherainsetsin。"Whereuponhelefthiscompanions,whoweresoonagainfastasleep。

Theskyhadsuddenlybecomefilledwithclouds,andAyraulthastenedtowardstheCallisto,intendingtoremainthere,ifnecessary,untilthestormwasover。Forabouttwentyminuteshehurriedonthroughthegrowingdarkness,stoppingonceonhighgroundtomakesureofhisbearings,andhehadcoveredmorethanhalfthedistancewhentheraincameoninaflood,accompaniedbybrilliantlightning。Seeingthehuge,hollowtrunkofafallentreenear,andnotwishingtobewetthrough,Ayraultfiredseveralsolidshotsfromhisrevolverintothecavity,todriveoutanywildanimalstheremightbeinside,andthenhurriedlycrawledin,feetfirst。Henextdrewinhishead,andwascongratulatinghimselfonhissnugretreat,whentheskybecameluridwithaflashoflightning,thenhisheaddroppedforward,andhewasunconscious。

CHAPTERXI。

DREAMLANDTOSHADOWLAND。

AsAyrault"sconsciousnessreturned,hefanciedheheardmusic。

Thoughdistant,itwasdistinct,andseemedtoringfromtheetherofspace。Occasionallyitsoundedevenmoreremote,butitwasrhythmicalandcontinuous,inspiringandstirringhimasnothingthathehadeverheardbefore。Finally,itwasovercomebythemorevividimpressionsuponhisothersenses,andhefoundhimselfwalkinginthestreetsofhisnativecity。Itwasspring,andthetreeswerewhitewithbuds。Thelongshadowsofthelateafternoonstretchedacrosstheway,buttheclearskygaveindicationofprolongedtwilight,andtheairwaswarmandbalmy。Naturewasfilledwithlife,andseemedtobeproclaimingthatthecoldwaspast。

Ashemovedalongthestreethemetafuneralprocession。

"Whatapity,"hethought,"amanshoulddie,withsummersonearathand！"

Hewasalsosurprisedatthekeennessofhissight;for,inclosedineachman"sbody,hesawtheoutlineofhissoul。Butthedeadman"sbodywasempty,likeacagewithoutabird。Healsoreadthethoughtsintheirminds。

"Now,"saidalargemaninthecarriagenextthehearse,"Imaywinher,sincesheisawidow。"

Thewidowherselfkeptthinking:"WouldithadbeenI！Hislifewasessentialtothechildren,whileIshouldscarcelyhavebeenmissed。IwishIhadnodutieshere,andmightfollowhimnow。"

Whileponderingonthesethings,hereachedSylvia"shouse,andwentintothelittleroominwhichhehadsooftenseenher。Thewarmsouthwesterlybreezeblewthroughtheopenwindows,andfarbeyondCentralParktheapproachingsunsetpromisedtobebeautiful。Thetablewascoveredwithflowers,andthoughhehadoftenseenthatvariety,hehadneverbeforenoticedthemarvellouscombinationsofcolours,whiletheroomwasfilledwithathousanddeliciousperfumes。Thethrushhanginginthewindowsangdivinely,andinasilverframehesawalikenessofhimself。

"Ihavealwayslovedthisroom,"hethought,"butitseemstomenowlikeheaven。"

Hesatdowninanarm—chairfromforceofhabit,toawaithisfiancee。

"Oh,forawalkwithSylviabytwilight！"histhoughtsranon,"forsheneednotbeathomeagaintillafterseven。"

Presentlyheheardthesoftrustleofherdress,androsetomeether。Thoughshelookedinhisdirection,shedidnotseemtoseehim,andwalkedpasthimtothewindow。Shewasthepictureoflovelinesssilhouettedagainstthesky。Hewenttowardsher,andgazedintoherdeep—seaeyes,whichhadafar—awayexpression。

Sheturned,wentgracefullytothemantelpiece,andtookaphotographofherselffrombehindtheclock。OnitsbackAyraulthadscrawledaboyishversecomposedbyhimself,whichran:

"Mydivine,mostidealSylvia,Ovision,witheyessoblue,"Tisinthehighestdegreeconsequential,Tomyexistenceinfactessential,ThatIshouldbelovedbyyou。"

Asshereadandrereadthoselines,withhiswholesoulheyearnedtohaveherlookathim。Hewatchedthecolourcomeandgoinherclear,brightcomplexion,andwasrejoicedtoseeinherthepersonificationofactivityandhealth。Beneathhisowneffusiononthephotographhesawsomethingwritteninpencil,inthehandheknewsowell:

"DidyoubutknowhowIloveyou,Nomoresillythingswouldyouask。

WithmywholeheartandsoulIadoreyou——

Idiot！goose！bombast！"

Andassheglancedatit,thesethoughtscrossedhermind:"I

shallnevercallyousuchnamesagain。HowmuchIshallhavetotellyou！Itisprovokingthatyoustayawaysolong。"

Hecamestillnearer——sonear,infact,thathecouldhearthebeatingofherheart——butshestillseemedentirelyunconsciousofhispresence。Losinghisreserveandself—control,heimpulsivelygraspedatherhands,thenfellonhisknees,andthen,dumfounded,struggledtohisfeet。Herhandsseemedtoslipthroughhis;hewasnotabletotouchher,andshewasstillunawareofhispresence。

Suddenlyawholefloodoflightandthetruthburstuponhim。HehadpassedpainlesslyandunconsciouslyfromthedreamlandofSaturntotheshadowlandofeternity。Themysterywassolved。

Likethedeadbishop,hehadbecomeafreespirit。Hisprayerwasanswered,andhisbody,struckbylightning,layfarawayonthatgreatringedplanet。Howhelongedtotakeinhisarmsthegirlwhohadpromisedherselftohim,andwho,henowsaw,lovedhimwithherwholeheart;buthewasonlyanimmaterialspirit,lightereventhantheetherofspace,andtheunchangeablelawsoftheuniverseseemedtohimbuttheironyoffate。Asaspirit,hewasintangibleandinvisibletothoseintheflesh,andlikewisetheywerebeyondhiscontrol。Thetragedyoflifethendawneduponhim,andtheawfulresultsofdeathmadethemselvesfelt。HeglancedatSylvia。Oncominginshehadlookedradiantlyhappy;nowsheseemeddepressed,andeventhebirdstoppedsinging。

"Oh,"hethought,"couldIbutreturntolifeforonehour,totellherhowincessantlyshehasbeeninmythoughts,andhowI

loveher！Death,totheaged,isnoloss——infact,ablessing——butnow！"andhesobbedmentallyintheanguishofhissoul。Ifhecouldbutcommunicatewithher,hethought;butherememberedwhatthedepartedbishophadsaid,thatitwouldtakemostmencenturiestodothis,andthatotherscouldneverlearn。

Bythattimeshe,too,wouldbedead,perhapshavingbeenthewifeofsomeoneelse,andhefeltasenseofjealousyevenbeyondthegrave。Throwinghimselfuponarugonthefloor,inaparoxysmofdistress,hegazedatSylvia。

"Oh,horriblemockery！"hethought,thinkingofthespirit。"HegavemeworsethanastonewhenIaskedforbread;for,inplaceoffreedom,hesentmedeath。CouldIbutbealiveagainforafewmoments！"But,withabittersmile,heagainrememberedthewordsofthebishop,"Whatwouldasoulinhellnotgiveforbutonehouronearth？"

Sylviahadseatedherselfonasmallsofa,onwhich,andnexttoher,hehadsooftensat。Hergentleeyeshadathoughtfullook,whileherfacewasthepersonificationofintelligenceandbeauty。Sheoccasionallyglancedathisphotograph,whichsheheldinherhand。

"Sylvia,Sylvia！"hesuddenlycried,risingtohiskneesatherfeet。"Ilove,Iadoreyou！Itwasmylongingtobewithyouthatbroughtmehere。Iknowyoucanneitherseenorhearme,butcannotyoursoulcommunewithmine？"

"IsDickhere？"criedSylvia,becomingdeadlypaleandgettingup,"oramIlosingmyreason？"

Seeingthatshewasdistressedbythepowerofhismind,Ayraultoncemoresanktothefloor,buryinghisfaceinhishands。

Unabletoendurethislonger,andfeelingasifhisheartmustbreak,herushedoutintothestreet,wishinghemightsoothehisanguishwithahypodermicinjectionofmorphine,andthathehadabodywithwhichtodivertandsuppresshissoul。

Nighthadfallen,andtheelectriclampscasttheirwhiteraysontheground,whilethestarsoverheadshoneintheireternalserenityandcalm。Thenwasitoncemorebroughthometohimthathewasaspirit,fordarknessandlightwerealike,andhefeltthebeginningofthatsenseofprescienceofwhichthebishophadspoken。Passingthroughthehousesofsomeoftheclubstowhichhebelonged,hesawhisnamestilluponthelistofmembers,andthenhewenttotheplacesofamusementheknewsowell。Onallsideswerefamiliarfaces,butwhatinterestedhimmostwasthegreatdivisionincessantlygoingon。Herewerejollypeopleenjoyinglifeandplayingcards,who,hisforesightshowedhim,wouldinlessthanayearbeunderground——likeMercutio,in"RomeoandJuliet,"to—dayknownasmerryfellows,whoto—morrowwouldbegravemen。

Whilehiseyesbeheldthesun,hehadimaginedtheairfeltwarmandbalmy。Henowsawthatthishadbeenahallucination,forhewaschilledthroughandthrough。Healsoperceivedthatbecastnoshadow,andthatnooneobservedhispresence。He,ontheotherhand,sawnotonlytheairasitenteredandlefthisfriends"lungs,butalsothesubstanceoftheirbrains,andtheseedsofdiseaseanddeath,whosepresencetheythemselvesdidnotevensuspect,andtheseventy—fivepercentofwaterintheirbodies,makingthemappearlikesacksofliquid。Insomehesawthegermsofconsumption;inothers,affectionsoftheheart。Inall,hesawtheincessantstrugglebetweenthehealthyblood—cellsandthemalignant,omnipresentbacillithatthecellsweretryingtoovercome。Manymenandwomenhesawwereinlove,andhecouldtellwhatallwereabouttodo。Oh,thesecretsthatwererevealed,whilethemotivesforactswerenowlaidbarethattillthenhehadmisunderstood！Hehadoftenheardtheoldsaying,thatifeverypersoninaball—roomcouldreadthethoughtsoftherest,theballwouldseematravestyonenjoyment,ratherthanrealpleasure,andnowheperceiveditsforce。Healsonoticedthatmanywerebetterthanhehadsupposed,andweretrying,inablunderingbutperseveringway,toobeytheirconsciences。Hesawsomeunselfishthoughtsandacts。Manythingsthathehadattributedtoirresolutionorinconsistency,heperceivedwereinrealityself—sacrifice。Hewentoninfranticdisquiet,distancenolongerbeingofconsequence,andinhisroamingchancedtopassthroughthegraveyardinwhichmanygenerationsofhisancestorslayburied。

Withintheleadencoffinshesawthecoldremains;somewellpreserved,othersbuthandfulsofdust。

"Tellme,Omyprogenitors,"hecried,"youwhosebloodtillthismorningflowedinmyveins,istherenotsomewaybywhichI,asaspirit,cancommunewiththematerialworld？Ihavealwaysadmiredyourjudgmentandwisdom,andyouhaveallbeeninShadowlandlongerthanI。Giveme,Iprayyou,someancestraladvice。"

Theonlysoundinanswerwasthehumoftheinsectsthatfilledtheeveningair。Themoonlightshonesoftly,butinaghastlyway,onthemarblecrossesofhisvaultandthosearound,andhefeltanunspeakablesadnesswithinthisabodeofthedead。"Howmanyunfinishedlives,"hethought,"haveendedbeneaththesesods！Unimprovedtalentshereareburiedintheground。

Unattainedambitions,andthosewhodiedbeforetheirtime;thosewhotried,inahalf—heartedway,toimprovetheiropportunities,andaccomplishedsomething,andthosewhoneglectedthem,anddidstillless——allaretogetherhere,thejustwiththeunjust,thoughitbeforthelasttime。Thegraveabsorbstheirbodiesandendstheirprobationaryrecord,fromwhichthereisnoappeal。"

Nearbyweresomeopengraves,readytoreceivetheiroccupants,whilealittlefartheronherecognizedtheCortlandtmausoleum,lookingexactlyaswhenshownhim,throughhissecondsight,bythespiritonthepreviousday。

Fromthegravesfilledrecently,andfrommanyothers,rosethreadsofcolouredmatter,intheformofgases,theforerunnersofmiasma。Henowperceivedshadowyfiguresflittingaboutonthegroundandintheair,fromwhoseeyespouredstreamsofimmaterialtears。Theirbrains,hearts,andvertebralcolumnswerethepartsmosteasilyseen,andtheywerefilledwithaninextinguishableanguishandsorrowthatfromitsveryintensitymadeitselfseenasablueflame。Therufflesandknickerbockersinwhichsomeofthesewereattired,evidentlybytheeffectsofthethoughtsintheirminds,doubtlessfromforceofhabitfromwhattheyhadwornonearthwhilealive,showedthattheyhadbeendeadatleasttwohundredyears。Ayraultalsonowfoundhimselfinstreetclothes,althoughwheninhisclubshehadwornadresssuit。

"Tellme,fellow—spirits,"hesaid,addressingthem,"howcanI

communicatewithonethatisstillalive？"

Theylookedathimwithmoisteyes,butanswerednotaword。

"Iattributedthemiseryinmyheart,"thoughtAyrault,"entirelytothedistressatlosingSylvia,whichGodknowsisenough;butthoughIsuspecteditbefore,Inowsee,bymycompanions,thatI

aminthedepthsofhell。"

CHAPTERXII。

SHEOL。

Failingtofindwordstoconveyhisthoughts,hethrewhimselfintoanopengrave,prayingthattheearthmighthidehissoul,ashehadsupposeditsomedaywouldhidehisbody。Butthegroundwaslikecrystal,andhesawthewhitebonesinthegravesallaroundhim。Unabletoendurethesesurroundingslonger,herushedbacktohisoldhaunts,whereheknewheshouldfindthefriendsofhisyouth。Hedidnotpausetogobytheusualway,butpassed,withoutstopping,throughwallsandbuildings。Soonhebeheldthefamiliarscene,andheardhisownnamementioned。

Buttherewasnocomforthere,andwhathehadseenofoldwasbutanincidenttowhathegazedonnow。Prayingwithhiswholeheartthathemightmakehimselfheard,hesteppeduponafoot—stool,andcried:

"Yourbodiesaredecayingbeforeme。Youareburyingyourtalentsintheground。Wemustallstandforfinalsentenceatthelastday,mortalsandspiritsalike——thereisnotashadowofashadeofdoubt。Youreverythoughtwillbeknown,andforeveryevildeedandeveryidlewordGodwillbringusintojudgment。Theangelofdeathisamongyouandatworkinyourverymidst。Areyoupreparedtoreceivehim？Hehasalreadykilledmybody,andnowthatIcanneverdieIwishtherewasagraveformysoul。IwasreassuredbyavisionthattoldmeI

wassafe,buteitheritwasahallucination,orIhavebeenbetrayedbysomespirit。LastnightIstilllived,andmybodyobeyedmywill。SincethenIhaveexperienceddeath,andwiththeresultingincreasedknowledgecomesthelossofallhope,withkeenerpangsthanIsupposedcouldexist。Oh,thatIhadnowtheiropportunities,thatImightwriteathesisthatshouldliveforever,andsavemillionsofsoulsfromtheanguishofmine！Inoculateyourmortalbodieswiththegermsoffaithandmutuallove,inastrongerdegreethantheydweltinme,lestyoulosethelifeabove。"

Butnooneheardhim,andhepreachedinvain。

Heagainrushedforth,and,afterahalf—involuntaryeffort,foundhimselfinthestreetbeforehislovedone"shome。

Scarcelyknowingwhy,exceptthatithadbecomenaturetowishtobenearher,hestoodforalongtimeoppositeherdwelling。

"Ohouse！"hecried,"inanimateobjectthatcanyetenthralmeso,Istandbeforeyourcoldfrontasasuppliantfromaverydistantrealm;yetinmysadnessIamcolderthanyourstones,morealonethaninadesolateplace。Shethatdwellswithinyouholdsmylove。Ilongforhershadoworthesoundofherstep。

Iammorewretchedlyinlovethanever——I,animpotent,invisiblespirit。MustIbearthissorrowinadditiontomyothers,inmyfruitlesssearchforrest？Mylifewillbeawakingnightmare,mostbitterironyoffate。"

Thetreesswayedabovehishead,andthemoon,initslastquarter,lookeddreamilyathim。

"Ah,"thoughtAyrault,"couldIbutsleepandbehappy！

Drowsinessandweariness,fatigue"sgraspisonme;ormaySylvia"snearnesssoothe,ashervoicehasbroughtmecalm！

QuietImaysomedayenjoy,butslumberagain,never！Iseethatsoulsinhadesmusteverhavetheirmisdeedsbeforethem。Happymaninthisworld,therepentant"ssinsareforgiven！Youloseyourcareinsleep。Somnolenceanddrowsiness——balmofachinghearts,angelsofmercy！Mortals,howblessed！untilyoudie,Godsendsyouthisrest。WhenIrecallsummereveningswithSylvia,whilegentlezephyrsfannedourbrows,IwouldchangePope"sfamouslineto"Manneveris,butalwaysHASBEEN

blessed。""

Aclockinachurch—steeplenowstruckthree,thesoundringingthroughthestillnightair。

"Itwillsoonbetimeforghoststogo,"thoughtAyrault。"I

mustnothauntherdwelling。"

TherewasalightinSylvia"sstudy,andAyraultremainedmeditativelygazingatit。

"Happylamp,"hethought,"toshedyourlightononesofair！

Shecanseeyou,andyoushine,forher。YouarebetteroffthanI。Wouldthathersoulmightshineforme,asyourlightshinesforher！Thelightofmylifehasdeparted。Othatthedarknesswerecomplete！Iamdead,"histhoughtsranon,andwhentheprivilege——bitterword！——thatpermitsmetoremainherehasexpired,ImustdoubtlessreturntoSaturn,andthereinpurgatoryworkoutmyprobation。ButwhatcomfortisitthatafewcenturieshenceImaybeabletorevisitmynativeearth？——

Theflowerswillbloominthemorninglight,Andthelarksalutethesun,Theearthwillcontinuetorollthroughspace,AndImaybenearermyfinalgrace,ButSylvia"slife—threadwillbespun。

"EvenSylvia"shousewillbeaheapofruins,oritsplacewillbetakenbysomethingelse。IfIhadSylvia,Ishouldcarefornothing;asIhavelosther,eventhissight,thoughsweet,mustalwaysbringregret。Iwish,atallevents,ImightseeSylvia,ifonlywiththesespirit—eyes,since,asamortal,shemaynevergladdenmysightagain。"

Tohissurprise,henowperceivedthathecouldsee,notwithstandingthedrawnshades。Sylviawasatherwriting—desk,inalight—colouredwrapper。Shesatthererestingherheadonherhand,lookingthoughtfulbutworried。Thoughitwassolate,shehadnotretired。ThethrushthatAyraulthadofteninlifeadmired,andthatshehadforsomereasonbroughtup—stairs,wassilentandasleep。

"Happybird！"hesaid,"youobtainrestandforgetfulnessoncoveringyourhead;butwhatwingcancovermysoul？IusedtowishImightfluttertowardsheavenonnaturalwingslikeyou,littlethrush。NowIcan,indeed,outflyyou。ButwhateverIdoI"munhappy,andwhereverIgoI"minhell。Whatismaninhishelpless,firstspiritualstate？Heisbutaflower,andwitherssoon。HadI,likethebishop,beenlessblind,andobeyedmyconscienceclear,ImighthavereturnedtomynativeearthwhileSylviastillsojournshere;andcomingthusbyvirtueofdevelopment,Ishouldbeabletocommunewithher。

"Whatislife？"hecontinued。"Intheretrospect,nothing。Itseemstomealreadyasbutaninfinitesimalpoint。Thingsthatengrossedme,andseemedofsuchmoment,thatovershadowedthedutyofobeyingmyconscience——whatwerethey,andwhere？Ah,where？Theyenduredbutamoment。Realityandevanescence——

evanescenceandreality。"

ThelightinSylvia"sroomwasoutnow,andintheeasthebeheldthedawn。Theubiquitousgreywhichhesawatnightwasinvadedbystreamsofgloriouscrimsonandbluethatreachedfarupintothesky。Hegazedatthespectacle,andthenoncemoreatthathouseinwhichhislovewascentred。

"WouldImightbeherguardianangel,toguideherintherightandkeepherfromallharm！Sleepon,Sylvia。Sweetone,sleep。

Yonstarsfadebesideyoureyes。Yourthoughtsandyoursoularefairerfarthantheeastinthisday"ssunrise。IknowwhatI

havelost。Ah,desolatingknowledge！forIhavereadSylvia"sheart,andknowIwaslovedastrulyasIloved。WhenBearwardenandCortlandtbreakherthenews——ah,God！willshelive,anddotheyyetknowIamdead？"

Againcamethatspasmtoshedspirittears,andhadhenotknownitimpossiblehewouldhavethoughthisheartmustbreak。

Thebirdstwittered,andthelightgrew,butAyraultlaywithhisfaceupontheground。Finallythespiritofunrestdrovehimon。

Hepassedthebarreddoorofhisownhouse,throughwhichhehadenteredsooften。Itwasunchanged,butseemeddeserted。Next,hewenttothewater—front,wherehehadlefthisyacht。

Invisiblyandsadlyhestooduponherupperdeck,andgazedatthelevers,inresponsetohistouchonwhichthecrafthadcleftthewaves,reversed,orturnedlikeathingoflife。

""Twasaprettytoy,"hemused,"andmanyhoursofjoyhaveIhadasIfloatedthroughlifeonboardofher。"

AshemopedalonghebeheldtwounkemptItalianshavingapiano—organandaviolin。Themusicwasnotfine,butittouchedachordinAyrault"sbreast,forhehadwaltzedwithSylviatothatair,anditmadehisheartache。

"Oh,theacutenessofmydistress,"hecried,"theutterdepthofmysorrow！CanIhavenopeaceindeath,nooblivioninthegrave？Iamremindedofmyblighted,hopelessloveinallkindsofunexpectedways,byunforeseentrifles。Oh,wouldImight,indeed,die！Mayobliterationbemydeliverer！"

"Poorfellows,"hecontinued,glancingattheItalians,forheperceivedthatneitheroftheplayerswashappy;thepianistwasavaricious,whiletheviolinist"snaturalandhabitualjealousydestroyedhispeaceofmind。

"Unhappinessseemsthecommonlot,"thoughtAyrault。"Earthcannotgivethatjoyforwhichwesigh。Poorfellows！thoughyourackmyearsanddistressmyheart,Icannothelpyounow。"

CHAPTERXIII。

THEPRIEST"SSERMON。

Itbeingthefirstdayoftheweek,themorningairwasfilledwithchimesfrommanysteeples。

"Divineservicealwayscomfortedinlife,"thoughtAyrault,"perchanceitmaydosonow,whenIhavereachedthestateforwhichittriedtoprepareme。"

Accordingly,hemovedonwiththethrong,andsoonwasascendingtheheightsofMorningsidePark,afterwhich,heenteredthecathedral。Thepriestwhosevoicehadsooftenthrilledhimstoodathispostinhissurplice,andthechoirhadfinishedtheprocessionalhymn。Duringtheresponsesinthelitany,andbetweenthecommandments,whilethecongregationandthechoirsang,heheardtheirnaturalvoicesasofoldascendingtothevaultedroofandarrestedthere。Henowalsoheardtheirspiritualvoicesresultingfromtheearnestnessoftheirprayers。

Thesewererungthroughthevastervaultofspace,arousingaspiritualechobeyondtheconstellationsandthenebulae。Theservice,whichwasthatoftheProtestantEpiscopalChurch,touchedhimasdeeplyasusual,afterwhichtherectorascendedthestepstothepulpit。

"Thetext,thismorning,"hebegan,"isfromtheeighthchapterofSt。Paul"sEpistletotheRomans,attheeighteenthverse:

"ForIreckonthatthesufferingsofthispresenttimearenotworthytobecomparedtotheglorythatshallberevealedinus。"

LetussupposethatyouorI,brethren,shouldbecomeafreeanddisembodiedspirit。Aminuteveininthebrainbursts,oraclotformsintheheart。Itmaybeameretrifle,someunexpectedthing,yetthecareerinthefleshisended,theeternallifeoftheliberatedspiritbegun。Thesoulslipsfromearth"sgrasp,asairfromourfingers,andfindsitselfinthefrigid,boundlessvoidofspace。Yet,throughsomelongingthissoulmightrejoinus,and,thoughinvisible,mighthearthechurch—bellsring,andlongtorecallsomeoneofthemanybrightSundaymorningsspenthereonearth。Hasadirefulmisfortunebefallenthisbrother,orhasaslavebeensetfree？Letussupposeforamomentthatthefirsthasoccurred。"Vanityofvanities,"saidtheoldpreacher。"Calamityofcalamities,"saysthenew。Thatsoul"sprobationaryperiodisended;hisrecord,onwhichhemustgo,isforevermade。Hehasbeenintheflesh,letussay,one,two,threeorfourscoreyears;beforehimarethecountlessaeonsofeternity。Hemayhavehadareasonablysatisfactorylife,fromhispointofview,andbeenfairlysuccessfulinstillingconscience。Thatstill,smallvoicedoubtlessspokeprettysharplyatfirst,butafterawhileitrarelytroubledhim,andintheenditspokenotatall。Hemay,inaway,haveenjoyedlifeandthebeautiesofnature。Hehasseenthefreshleavescomeandgo,butheforgotthemoral,thatbehimselfwasbutaleaf,andthat,astheyalldroppedtoearthtomakemoresoil,hisashesmustalsoreturntotheground。Buthissoul,friendsandbrethren,whatbecomesofthat？Ah！itisthestudyofthisquestionthatmoistensoureyeswithtears。Noevilmanisreallyhappyhere,andwhatmustbehissufferinginthecold,coldlandofspirits？Noslumberorforgetfulnesscaneasehislotinhades,andafterhiscondemnationatthelastjudgmenthemustforeverfacetheunsoftenedrealitiesofeternity。Noevilthingorthoughtcanfindlodgmentinheaven。

Ifitcould,heavenwouldnotbeahappyplace;neithercananymanimproveintheabyssofhell。Asthehorizongraduallydarkens,andthissoulrecedesfromGod,thetimespentinthefleshmustcometoseemthemostinfinitesimalmoment,moreevanescentthanthetickofaclock。Itseemsdreadfulthatforsuchshortmisdoingsasoulshouldsuffersolong,butnomancanbesavedinspiteofhimself。Hehadtheopportunities——andtheknowledgeofthismustgiveasoulthemostacutepang。

"InRevelation,xx,6,wefindthesewords,"Blessedandholyishethathathpartinthefirstresurrection:onsuchtheseconddeathhathnopower。"Ihaveoftenaskedmyself,Maynotthismeanthatthosewithabadrecordinthegeneralresurrectionafteratimeceasetoexist,sinceallsufferonedeathatthecloseoftheirperiodhere？

"ThisissomewhatsuggestedbyProverbs,xii,28,。"Inthewayofrighteousnessislife,andinthepathwaythereofthereisnodeath。"Thismightlimittheeverlastingdamnation,sooftenrepeatedelsewhere,tothelivesofthecondemned,sincetothem,inasense,itwouldbeeverlasting。