THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE [5]
he called the rough part
of his work. Every man's mind was to him as a vessel in which
something was concocting; every land a kind of mental kitchen.
"There are no delicacies here," he said; so he wished to go out into
the world to find something delicate to suit his taste. "Perhaps
fortune may be more favorable to me than it was to my brothers. I
shall start on my travels, but what conveyance shall I choose? Are air
balloons invented yet?" he asked of his father, who knew of all
inventions that had been made, or would be made.
Air balloons had not then been invented, nor steam-ships, nor
railways.
"Good," said he; "then I shall choose an air balloon; my father
knows how they are to be made and guided. Nobody has invented one yet,
and the people will believe that it is an aerial phantom. When I
have done with the balloon I shall burn it, and for this purpose,
you must give me a few pieces of another invention, which will come
next; I mean a few chemical matches."
He obtained what he wanted, and flew away. The birds accompanied
him farther than they had the other brothers. They were curious to
know how this flight would end. Many more of them came swooping
down; they thought it must be some new bird, and he soon had a
goodly company of followers. They came in clouds till the air became
darkened with birds as it was with the cloud of locusts over the
land of Egypt.
And now he was out in the wide world. The balloon descended over
one of the greatest cities, and the aeronaut took up his station at
the highest point, on the church steeple. The balloon rose again
into the air, which it ought not to have done; what became of it is
not known, neither is it of any consequence, for balloons had not then
been invented.
There he sat on the church steeple. The birds no longer hovered
over him; they had got tired of him, and he was tired of them. All the
chimneys in the town were smoking.
"There are altars erected to my honor," said the wind, who
wished to say something agreeable to him as he sat there boldly
looking down upon the people in the street. There was one stepping
along, proud of his purse; another, of the key he carried behind
him, though he had nothing to lock up; another took a pride in his
moth-eaten coat; and another, in his mortified body. "Vanity, all
vanity!" he exclaimed. "I must go down there by-and-by, and touch
and taste; but I shall sit here a little while longer, for the wind
blows pleasantly at my back. I shall remain here as long as the wind
blows, and enjoy a little rest. It is comfortable to sleep late in the
morning when one had a great deal to do," said the sluggard; "so I
shall stop here as long as the wind blows, for it pleases me."
And there he stayed. But as he was sitting on the weather-cock
of the steeple, which kept turning round and round with him, he was
under the false impression that the same wind still blew, and that
he could stay where he was without expense.
But in India, in the castle on the Tree of the Sun, all was
solitary and still, since the brothers had gone away one after the
other.
"Nothing goes well with them," said the father; "they will never
bring the glittering jewel home, it is not made for me; they are all
dead and gone." Then he bent down over the Book of Truth, and gazed on
the page on which he should have read of the life after death, but for
him there was nothing to be read or learned upon it.
His blind daughter was his consolation and joy; she clung to him
with sincere affection, and for the sake of his happiness and peace
she wished the costly jewel could be found and brought home.
With longing tenderness she thought of her brothers. Where were
they? Where did they live? How she wished she might dream of them; but
it was strange that not even in dreams could she be brought near to
them. But at last one night she dreamt that she heard the voices of
her brothers calling to her from the distant world, and
of his work. Every man's mind was to him as a vessel in which
something was concocting; every land a kind of mental kitchen.
"There are no delicacies here," he said; so he wished to go out into
the world to find something delicate to suit his taste. "Perhaps
fortune may be more favorable to me than it was to my brothers. I
shall start on my travels, but what conveyance shall I choose? Are air
balloons invented yet?" he asked of his father, who knew of all
inventions that had been made, or would be made.
Air balloons had not then been invented, nor steam-ships, nor
railways.
"Good," said he; "then I shall choose an air balloon; my father
knows how they are to be made and guided. Nobody has invented one yet,
and the people will believe that it is an aerial phantom. When I
have done with the balloon I shall burn it, and for this purpose,
you must give me a few pieces of another invention, which will come
next; I mean a few chemical matches."
He obtained what he wanted, and flew away. The birds accompanied
him farther than they had the other brothers. They were curious to
know how this flight would end. Many more of them came swooping
down; they thought it must be some new bird, and he soon had a
goodly company of followers. They came in clouds till the air became
darkened with birds as it was with the cloud of locusts over the
land of Egypt.
And now he was out in the wide world. The balloon descended over
one of the greatest cities, and the aeronaut took up his station at
the highest point, on the church steeple. The balloon rose again
into the air, which it ought not to have done; what became of it is
not known, neither is it of any consequence, for balloons had not then
been invented.
There he sat on the church steeple. The birds no longer hovered
over him; they had got tired of him, and he was tired of them. All the
chimneys in the town were smoking.
"There are altars erected to my honor," said the wind, who
wished to say something agreeable to him as he sat there boldly
looking down upon the people in the street. There was one stepping
along, proud of his purse; another, of the key he carried behind
him, though he had nothing to lock up; another took a pride in his
moth-eaten coat; and another, in his mortified body. "Vanity, all
vanity!" he exclaimed. "I must go down there by-and-by, and touch
and taste; but I shall sit here a little while longer, for the wind
blows pleasantly at my back. I shall remain here as long as the wind
blows, and enjoy a little rest. It is comfortable to sleep late in the
morning when one had a great deal to do," said the sluggard; "so I
shall stop here as long as the wind blows, for it pleases me."
And there he stayed. But as he was sitting on the weather-cock
of the steeple, which kept turning round and round with him, he was
under the false impression that the same wind still blew, and that
he could stay where he was without expense.
But in India, in the castle on the Tree of the Sun, all was
solitary and still, since the brothers had gone away one after the
other.
"Nothing goes well with them," said the father; "they will never
bring the glittering jewel home, it is not made for me; they are all
dead and gone." Then he bent down over the Book of Truth, and gazed on
the page on which he should have read of the life after death, but for
him there was nothing to be read or learned upon it.
His blind daughter was his consolation and joy; she clung to him
with sincere affection, and for the sake of his happiness and peace
she wished the costly jewel could be found and brought home.
With longing tenderness she thought of her brothers. Where were
they? Where did they live? How she wished she might dream of them; but
it was strange that not even in dreams could she be brought near to
them. But at last one night she dreamt that she heard the voices of
her brothers calling to her from the distant world, and