A Journey in Other Worlds [127]
during the night, they piled on wood, and talked of
their recent experiences.
"However unwilling I was," said Cortlandt, "to believe my senses,
which I felt were misleading me, I can no longer doubt the
reality of that spirit bishop, or the truth of what be says.
When you look at the question dispassionately, it is what you
might logically expect. In my desire to disprove what is to us
supernatural, I tried to create mentally a system that would be a
substitute for the one he described, but could evolve nothing
that so perfectly filled the requirements, or that was so simple.
Nothing seems more natural than that man, having been evolved
from stone, should continue his ascent till he discards material
altogether. The metamorphism is more striking in the first
change than in the second. Granted that the soul is immaterial,
and that it leaves the body after death, what is there to keep it
on earth? Gravitation cannot affect it. What is more likely
than that it is left behind by the earth in its orbit, or that it
continues its forward motion, but in a straight line, till,
reaching the paths of the greater planets, it is drawn to them by
some affinity or attraction that the earth does not possess, and
that the souls held in that manner remain here on probation,
developing like young animals or children, till, by gradually
acquired power, resulting from their wills, they are able to rise
again into space, to revisit the earth, and in time to explore
the universe? It might easily come about that, by some
explainable sympathy, the infant good souls are drawn to this
planet, while the condemned pass on to Cassandra, which holds
them by some property peculiar to itself, until perhaps they,
too, by virtue of their wills, acquire new power, unless
involution sets in and they lose what they have. The simplicity
of the thing is what surprises me now, and that for ages
philosophers have been racking their brains with every
conceivable fancy, when, by simply extending and following
natural laws, they could discern the whole."
"It is the old story," said Bearwarden, "of Columbus and the egg.
Schopenhouer and his predecessors appear to have tried every idea
but the right one, and even Darwin and Huxley fell short in their
reasoning, because they tried to obtain more or less than four by
putting two with two."
Thus they sat and talked while the night wore on. Neither
thought of sleeping, hoping all the while that Ayrault might walk
in as he had the night before.
At last the dawn began to tint the east, and the growing light
showed them that the storm had passed. The upper strata of
Saturn's atmosphere being filled with infinitesimal particles of
dust, as a result of its numerous volcanoes, the conditions were
highly favourable to beautiful sunrises and sunsets. Soon
coloured streaks extended far into the sky, and though they knew
that when the sun's disc appeared it would seem small, it filled
the almost boundless eastern horizon with the most variegated and
gorgeous hues.
Turning away from the welcome sight--for their minds were ill at
ease--they found the light strong enough for their search to
begin. Writing on a sheet of paper, in a large hand, "Have gone
to the Callisto to look for you; shall afterwards return here,"
they pinned this in a conspicuous place and set out due west,
keeping about a hundred yards apart. The ground was wet and
slippery, but overhead all was clear, and the sun soon shone
brightly. Looking to right and left, and occasionally shouting
and discharging their revolvers, they went on for half an hour.
"I have his tracks," called Bearwarden, and Cortlandt hastened to
join him.
In the soft ground, sure enough, they saw Ayrault's footprints,
and, from the distance between them, concluded that he must have
been running or walking very fast; but the rain had washed down
the edges of the incision. The trail ascended a gentle slope,
where they lost it; but on reaching the summit they saw it again
with the
their recent experiences.
"However unwilling I was," said Cortlandt, "to believe my senses,
which I felt were misleading me, I can no longer doubt the
reality of that spirit bishop, or the truth of what be says.
When you look at the question dispassionately, it is what you
might logically expect. In my desire to disprove what is to us
supernatural, I tried to create mentally a system that would be a
substitute for the one he described, but could evolve nothing
that so perfectly filled the requirements, or that was so simple.
Nothing seems more natural than that man, having been evolved
from stone, should continue his ascent till he discards material
altogether. The metamorphism is more striking in the first
change than in the second. Granted that the soul is immaterial,
and that it leaves the body after death, what is there to keep it
on earth? Gravitation cannot affect it. What is more likely
than that it is left behind by the earth in its orbit, or that it
continues its forward motion, but in a straight line, till,
reaching the paths of the greater planets, it is drawn to them by
some affinity or attraction that the earth does not possess, and
that the souls held in that manner remain here on probation,
developing like young animals or children, till, by gradually
acquired power, resulting from their wills, they are able to rise
again into space, to revisit the earth, and in time to explore
the universe? It might easily come about that, by some
explainable sympathy, the infant good souls are drawn to this
planet, while the condemned pass on to Cassandra, which holds
them by some property peculiar to itself, until perhaps they,
too, by virtue of their wills, acquire new power, unless
involution sets in and they lose what they have. The simplicity
of the thing is what surprises me now, and that for ages
philosophers have been racking their brains with every
conceivable fancy, when, by simply extending and following
natural laws, they could discern the whole."
"It is the old story," said Bearwarden, "of Columbus and the egg.
Schopenhouer and his predecessors appear to have tried every idea
but the right one, and even Darwin and Huxley fell short in their
reasoning, because they tried to obtain more or less than four by
putting two with two."
Thus they sat and talked while the night wore on. Neither
thought of sleeping, hoping all the while that Ayrault might walk
in as he had the night before.
At last the dawn began to tint the east, and the growing light
showed them that the storm had passed. The upper strata of
Saturn's atmosphere being filled with infinitesimal particles of
dust, as a result of its numerous volcanoes, the conditions were
highly favourable to beautiful sunrises and sunsets. Soon
coloured streaks extended far into the sky, and though they knew
that when the sun's disc appeared it would seem small, it filled
the almost boundless eastern horizon with the most variegated and
gorgeous hues.
Turning away from the welcome sight--for their minds were ill at
ease--they found the light strong enough for their search to
begin. Writing on a sheet of paper, in a large hand, "Have gone
to the Callisto to look for you; shall afterwards return here,"
they pinned this in a conspicuous place and set out due west,
keeping about a hundred yards apart. The ground was wet and
slippery, but overhead all was clear, and the sun soon shone
brightly. Looking to right and left, and occasionally shouting
and discharging their revolvers, they went on for half an hour.
"I have his tracks," called Bearwarden, and Cortlandt hastened to
join him.
In the soft ground, sure enough, they saw Ayrault's footprints,
and, from the distance between them, concluded that he must have
been running or walking very fast; but the rain had washed down
the edges of the incision. The trail ascended a gentle slope,
where they lost it; but on reaching the summit they saw it again
with the