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 S23 
 
 Let us (since life can little more supply 
 Than just to look about us, and to die) 
 Expatiate free o'er all this scene of Man ; 
 A mighty maze ! but not without a plan ; 
 ^ wild where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot. 
 Or garden tempting with forbidden fruit. 
 Together let us beat this ample field, 
 Try what the open, what the covert yield ; 
 The latent tracts, the giddy heights explore, 
 Of all who blindly creep or sightless soar ; 
 Eye Nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, 
 And catch the manners living as they rise ; 
 Laugh where we must, be candid where we can. 
 But vindicate the ways of God to Man. 
 
 Say first, of God above or Man below 
 "What can we reason but from what we know ? 
 ^ Of Man what see we but his station here, 
 ,^ From which to reason or to which refer ? 
 
 ^ Through worlds unnumber'd though the God be known, 
 $■ 'TIS ours to trace him only in our own. 
 ^ He who through vast immensity can pierce, 
 See worlds' on worlds compose one universe. 
 Observe how system into system runs, 
 What other planets circle other suns, 
 What varied being peoples every star, 
 May tell why heav'n has made us as we are : 
 But of this frame, the bearings and the ties. 
 The strong connexions, nice dependencies, 
 ^ Gradations just, has thy prevading soul 
 
 (Jl^ Look'd through ; or can a part contain the whole? 
 
 
 >s'
 
 vi THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Is the great chain that draws all to agree, 
 And drawn supports, upheld by God, or thee ? 
 
 • •••••• 
 
 When the proud steed shall know why Man restrains 
 
 His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains ; 
 
 When the dull ox why now he breaks the clod, 
 
 Is now a victim, and now Egypt's God ; 
 
 Then shall Man's pride and dulness comprehend 
 
 His actions, passions, being, use, and end ; 
 
 Why doing, suff'ring, check'd, impell'd ; and why 
 
 This hour a slave, the next a diety. 
 
 Then say not Man's imperfect. Heaven in fault ; 
 Say rather Man's as perfect as he ought ; 
 His knowledge measured to his state and place ; 
 His time a moment, and a point his space. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 X
 
 PKEFAGE. 
 
 " As in men so in books, the soul is all with which our souls 
 must deal ; and the soul of the book is whatsoever beautiful, 
 and true, and noble we can find in it." — Canon Kjngsley. 
 
 " I AM desirous," says Benjamin Disraeli, in the 
 introduction to his psychological romance CoN- 
 TARiNi Flemixg, " of Writing a book which shall 
 be all truth : a work to which the passion, the 
 thought, the action, and even the style should 
 spring from my own experience of feeling, from 
 the meditations of my own intellect, from my 
 own observation of incident, from my own study 
 of the genius of expression." This has also been 
 my object in writing the follomng pages, which 
 have sprung, as it were, naturally out of those of 
 " The Honeymoon." In that romance I tried to 
 picture the struggle of a noble spirit chafing 
 against the fetters of modern churches ; whilst at 
 the same time it feels an almost womanlike 
 tenderness for the bonds it is endeavouring to 
 shake off.
 
 viii THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 This book may be considered as the counter- 
 poise and completion of " The Honeymoon." 
 
 The battle between exact knowledge and 
 orthodoxy has been waged for many long 
 years, until science has shown a tendency to 
 drasf mankind into blank, cold materialistic 
 atheism, and blind faith to draw it towards 
 superstition and implicit belief in the incre- 
 dible. Hence the world is prepared for the 
 advent of religious ideas founded upon facts, 
 which every man can prove for himself, and 
 which can reconcile the discoveries of science 
 with the revelations of God as given in the Bible, 
 and other inspired writings. 
 
 Modern philosophy, with its partial discoveries, 
 has infused into the breast of man a spirit of 
 scepticism ; whilst, on the other side, dogmatic 
 theology would fain prevent the expansion of his 
 ideas, which the growth of knowledge in this 
 century of progress so inevitably contributes to 
 enlarge. For my own part I believe there is much 
 truth on both sides, and that, ere long, science will 
 embrace a higher field, and become more specu- 
 lative, and that when we know more, we shall 
 believe more ; whilst the churches will, on their 
 side, become more liberal and progressive, and 
 yielding to science will help philosophy in the
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 struggle to penetrate the dark veil wliicli has so 
 long veiled our destiny. 
 
 There have been many theories formed and re- 
 formed to explain the great mysteries of creation 
 and existence. What am I ? How am I? Where 
 do I come from ? and whither am I going? — but 
 in spite of Darwin, Tyndall, and Agassiz, I doubt 
 very much if we are nearer the truth now than 
 when Moses wrote the first chapters of Genesis. 
 
 Man, by himself, will never arrive at a com- 
 plete comprehension of these things, but God has 
 given us His revelation to assist us, why should 
 we despise it and seek elsewhere for the truth 
 which, if we " search the Scriptures,'^ as we have 
 been told to do, we shall be sure to find, has been 
 declared to us already, according to the degree of 
 our perceptive faculties. 
 
 ** Progress being infinite, and man being a pro- 
 gressive being, it is evident that, as no formula 
 can ever be an exhaustive expression to him of 
 truth in any branch of knowledge, no formula 
 can ever be final ; and, consequently, no doctrine 
 can ever be anything more than a summing up 
 of the attainment of some given epoch of human 
 thought, or can ever be useful except as stepping- 
 stone to farther progress. 
 
 " Hence the need of a succession of progressive
 
 X THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 * revelations,' i.e. re-veilings, the replacing of one 
 veil by another a little less opaque, as we become 
 capable of understanding, and profiting by a some- 
 what less obscured view of what is about us." 
 
 At the end of " The Honeymoon," after weigh- 
 ing well the long line of dogmas and philosophies, 
 my hero comes to the conclusion, that " from the 
 beginning of humanity there has been a pro- 
 gressive development of religion ; that is to say, of 
 the hisrher faculties which connect man with his 
 Creator. This progress appears in the rise, de- 
 cline, and fall of the difierent forms of religion 
 that have appeared upon the earth." From this 
 he concludes that all religions have been originally 
 revealed by God, according to the capabilities of 
 the intellectual advancement of the man to whom 
 they were given, and that all of them are, in this 
 light, true and holy, but progressional. 
 
 To this it may be objected that there can only 
 be one truth, but my object was to prove that in 
 all these difi'erent revelations there is but one 
 truth, but that that truth can only be gradually 
 perceived, as the human mind gradually expands. 
 All the Bibles of antiquity teach the same funda- 
 mental doctrines, more or less hidden under the 
 veil of allegory, and these doctrines I hold to be 
 true, because I believe them revealed by God.
 
 PREFACE. XL 
 
 In the present volumes I have tried to put 
 forth some of these doctrines which have existed 
 ever since God's first revelation to mankind, in 
 one form or another, viz. — The existence of a 
 God, creator of the universe ; the immortality of 
 the soul, and its eternal progress through the ages, 
 which necessitates a succession of incarnations in 
 material worlds ; and the plurality of these worlds 
 which are inhabited by the said spirits. 
 
 It is to the second of these doctrines that I 
 devote the present work, for it has always been, 
 and ever will be, one of the fundamental and most 
 important in the religions of mankind. It was 
 common to the most uncivilised and to the most 
 civilised nations of the earth ; it has been the 
 object of fantastical superstition as weU as that of 
 philosophical speculation, and it is the property 
 of both ancient and modern times. 
 
 It finds its origin in the idea which is innate 
 in man, that the soul is immortal, and that it is 
 of divine essence. But being of divine essence 
 it must have been originally pure ; and hence the 
 fall of man which we find holding such a pro- 
 minent place in all the Bibles of antiquity. 
 
 According to the doctrine of the ancient Egyp- 
 tians, the human race originated after the angels 
 had revolted against the gods, and were therefore
 
 xii THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tainted with guilt, a guilt which they must 
 expiate ; to enable them to do this, the gods 
 created earthly bodies, which these fallen spirits 
 were sentenced to animate, so that by expiations 
 they might regain their state of original purity. 
 And these fallen spirits incarnated in these 
 earthly bodies are the human race ; and human 
 life — that is to say the connection of body and 
 soul — is merely intended as a means of purifying 
 the soul which had rebelled against its divine 
 nature. All the precepts regulating their course 
 of life were laid downa by the Egyptians for this 
 end ; and the judgment passed after death in the 
 palace of Osiris they believed decided whether it 
 had been attained or not. If it had not, the soul 
 must return to the earth, ao^ain to renew its 
 expiations ; and, according to the nature and 
 measure of the guilt which it had contracted 
 during its previous career, it must form a new 
 union with a human body ; but if the soul was 
 declared pure by the judge of the dead, it 
 gradually ascended through the various regions of 
 heaven to the highest abodes of the gods and 
 pure spirits, where it would have gone by a 
 much more direct road if it had not revolted and 
 fallen. 
 
 This same belief we find in every religion of
 
 PREFACE. xiii 
 
 antiquity, in the Vedas of Southern India as in 
 the Eddas of Northern Europe, there is always the 
 same doctrine of the immortal soul, which, having 
 been created pure and subsequently fallen, must, 
 through a successive course of earthly existences, 
 regain its lost purity and attain perfection. 
 
 Thus, in the Eig-Veda, the oldest of the so- 
 called " sacred writings " of the planet, and which 
 were supposed to have been inspired by God him- 
 self, we read, — ''whilst yet enveloped in his 
 mothers womb (a spirit) is subject to many births, 
 and lias entered upon evil." — (Professor Wilson's 
 Translation, vol. ii., p. 137). 
 
 In the Bhagavat - Gita, we read of Crishna 
 telling the Prince Arjuna, "As a man throweth 
 away old garments and putteth on netv, even so 
 the soul, having quitted its old mortal frames, 
 entereth others which are neiv.'^ "/ have had 
 many births, and thou also, Arjuna. I knovj 
 them all, but thou, Hero ! hnowest them not." 
 
 The necessity for these repeated returns to the 
 material life, is thus explained in the same book : 
 — " The reconfipense acquired by good or evil 
 deeds is like the waves of the sea, ivhose ivorhing 
 none can hinder ; it is like a cord which binds 
 them to their author, and which none can break. . . . 
 For the education of our preceding life influ-
 
 xiv THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 ences us in the life that follows If a man 
 
 have done the ivorks that lead to the world of the 
 moon, he goes to the world of the moon. . . . Ij 
 a man has done the works tJiat lead to the world 
 of the sun, he goes to the world of the sun ; if a 
 man has done the works that lead to the world 
 of the Creator, he goes to the world of the 
 Creator. Thus the soul goes to the world to 
 which its works belong. Wliat, then, is the use 
 of giving oneself up to the gratification of sen- 
 sual desires ? Abandon yourself to the satisfac- 
 tions of sense, and all you will have got from this 
 indulgence will be to have forged for yourself, 
 at death, the chains that will link you to other 
 bodies, and to other worlds. . . . The soul, on 
 returning to the earth, profits by its previous 
 acquirements : and thus through a long succes- 
 sion of gradual advances . . . and only after 
 many births . . . the soul that has become pure 
 and wise, is at last enfranchised from the neces- 
 sity of coming back to this earth, and goes to the 
 Pure," in other words, passes into a world of a 
 higher degree than ours. " When these great 
 soids have attained to perfection," we read 
 further on, " they return no more to this pemsh- 
 able life of earth, and sojourn of sorrows. . . . The 
 love of virtue is the supreme path, those who have
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 attained to that elevation undergo no "more hirtliSy 
 hut take on luminous bodies." 
 
 In the laws of Manu, especially in the twelfth 
 book, we have also a lengthy account of this 
 doctrine of regeneration, or transmigration, as it 
 has been badly called, and there is no doubt that 
 the Buddhistic belief in the immortality of the 
 soul, being derived from that of the Brahmanic 
 Hindus, is based also on this doctrine. " Make 
 thyself an island, work hard, he wise" we read 
 in Buddha's Dhammapada, or Path of Virtue. 
 " When thy infirmities are hlown away, and 
 thou art free from guilt, thou wilt not enter 
 again into hirth and decay. Let a wise man 
 hloiv off the infirmities of his soul, as a smith 
 hlows off the impurities of silver, one hy one, 
 little hy little, and from time to time." 
 
 The Buddhists also believe that all souls have 
 begun pure, and like the Brahmins they also 
 believe in the unreality and sinfulness of the 
 world, in the necessity of the soul's freeing itself 
 from the bondage of this world, and in the causal 
 connection between the actions of man in this, 
 and his condition in a subsequent, life. They, 
 too, hold therefore that sin is the cause of rein- 
 carnation, and that by a total expiation of sin, 
 the soul ceases to be reborn, and attains its final
 
 xvl THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 resting place. Hence Sakya Munis famous 
 hymn : — 
 
 " Through many various, oft repeated births, 
 I've run my course ; still seeking, but in vain, 
 The Builder of the house framed by desire. 
 Painful and wearying are repeated births. 
 But now, House Builder ! I have found thee at last, 
 No house, henceforward, can'st thou build for me ; 
 For having quenched the flames of low desire, 
 Eafters and ridge-pole I have broken down, 
 My soul from earthly lives has gained release. 
 And entered blest Nirvana's glorious peace." 
 
 I will not quote the numerous passages from 
 the ancient Bibles which prove the antiquity of 
 this doctrine, but merely enumerate a few of the 
 most prominent nations and men of antiquity 
 who believed in it, and based their religion 
 upon it. 
 
 The old Mexicans may be cited as one in- 
 stance, for their religion, strange to say, was very 
 similar to that of the Egyptians, a similitude 
 which is a strong proof, to my mind, of its 
 divine origin. 
 
 The Persians and Chaldeans are another, for 
 Zoroaster — the great religious teacher of the 
 former — was a believer in the same doctrines. 
 
 The Chinese are another, the three greatest 
 philosophers of which nation, Confucius, Lao-tze,
 
 PREFACE, xvii 
 
 and Mencius, based their systems on the same 
 great fiindamental truths, which, indeed, seem 
 common to all Eastern sages. 
 
 In Greece, the doctrine of reincarnation, or as 
 it was then called, metempsychosis, was very 
 popular amongst the great philosophers, such as 
 Thales, who is said to have been the first to pro- 
 pound it, Aristotle, Pherecydes, Pythagoras, 
 Socrates, Plato, &c., &c. ; indeed the whole teach- 
 ing of Plato, like that of his illustrious master, is 
 undoubtedly based on the double idea of the 
 immortality of the soul, and of the happiness or 
 unhappiness of its successive existences accord- 
 ing to its good or evil deeds. 
 
 In Greece, however, this doctrine never became 
 the general belief of the people, but was confined 
 to the teachings of the Mysteries, most of which, 
 as the Hermetic, Orphic, Eleusinian, &c., taught 
 substantially the same great doctrine. Delormel 
 in his important work on the Ancient Mysteries, 
 thus expresses himself: — "From the earHest times 
 the initiated have known the unity, infinity, 
 and perfection of God ; the infinity of inhabited 
 worlds ; and our successive lives in them ; " and, 
 in arguing in support of the latter point, he says, 
 " As it is absurd to suppose that blessings and 
 sorrows are the result of chance, we must believe
 
 xviii THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 them to be a consequence of our right- doing or 
 wrong-doing in previous lives." 
 
 Amongst the Jews this doctrine — Gilgul 
 Neshamoth — was also taught in the Mys- 
 teries or secret Kabbala. ^^ All the soulsy" says 
 the Sohar, its great code, " are subject to the 
 trials of transmigration ; and rnen do not know 
 tuhich are the ways of the Most High in their 
 regard. They do not know how they are judged 
 in all times, as well before they come to this 
 world as after they leave it. They do not know 
 how many transformations and mysterious trials 
 they must undergo ; how 7nany souls and spirits 
 come back to this world without returning to the 
 'palace of the divine king'^ 
 
 In the time of Jesus, however, this doctrine 
 was becoming more generally known, and from 
 the account given of the Pharisees by Josephus, it 
 would seem that their doctrine of the immortality 
 of the soul was the same as that taught in the 
 Sohar. 
 
 In Home's introduction to the Critical Study of 
 the Scriptures we read, ** It appears that their 
 notion of the immortality of the soul was the 
 Pythagorean metempsychosis ; namely, that the 
 soul, after the dissolution of one body winged its 
 flight into another ; and that these removals were
 
 PREFACE. xix 
 
 perpetuated and diversified through an infinite 
 succession, the soul animating a sound and 
 healthy body, or being confined in a deformed 
 and diseased frame, according to its conduct in a 
 prior state of existence. From the Pharisees, 
 whose tenets and traditions were generally 
 received by the people, it is evident that the 
 disciples of our Lord had adopted this philosophic 
 doctrine of the transmigration of souls ; when, 
 having met a man who had been horn blind, they 
 asked Jesus whether it were the sins of this man 
 in a pre- existent state, which had caused the 
 sovereign disposer to inflict upon him this 
 punishment. To this inquiry, Christ replied that 
 neither his vices nor sins in a pre -existent state, 
 nor those of his parents were the cause of this 
 calamity (in this ^particular instance)." (John 
 ix. 1-4). 
 
 " From this prevalent notion derived from the 
 Greek philosophy, we find that dming our 
 Saviour's public ministry, the Jews speculated 
 variously concerning him, and indulged in several 
 conjectures as to which of the ancient prophets it 
 was whose soul now animated him, and performed 
 such astonishing miracles. Some contended that 
 it was the soul of Elias ; others of Jeremiah ; 
 while others, less sanguine, only declared in
 
 XX THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 general terms that it must be the soul of one of 
 the old prophets by which these mighty deeds 
 were now wrought." (Matt. xvi. 14; Luke, 
 ix. 19.) 
 
 Herod also believed in this doctrine, when he 
 said, speaking of Jesus, "This is John the 
 Baptist ; he is risen from the dead ; and therefore 
 mighty works do show forth themselves in him." 
 (Matt. xiv. 2 ; Luke, ix. 7.) 
 
 The author of the Book of Wisdom (viii. 20) 
 seems to allude to the same doctrine when he 
 tells us, that heing goody he came into a body 
 undejiled. 
 
 And surely Jesus himself believed in it when 
 he told Nicodemus, " Verily, Verily, I say 
 unto thee, except a man he horn agaiii, he can- 
 not see the kingdom of heaven." (St John 
 iii. 3.) 
 
 Besides, does he not tell us plainly in several 
 places, speaking of John the Baptist, '^Ifye will 
 receive it, this is Elias who was to come ; " but, 
 at the same time, he distinctly tells us that not 
 all are yet able to receive this great truth, but 
 only those who have grown up to its comprehen- 
 sion, "He that hath ears to hear let him hearV^ 
 
 Amongst the early Christians, this was also a 
 most popular doctrine. St Jerome positively
 
 PREFACE. xxi 
 
 asserts that " the transmigration of souls is a 
 doctrine which has been secretly taught from 
 ancient times, as an esoteric and traditional truth, 
 which ought to be confided only to the selected 
 few ;" and therefore warns those who possess not 
 to divulge it. 
 
 Origen says of it, that it afibrds the only 
 possible explanation of certain Biblical narratives, 
 as the fighting of Jacob and Esau before their 
 birth, and the declaration that God had already 
 loved the one and hated the other ; or the selec- 
 tion of Jeremiah when he was not yet bom, after 
 the statement said to have been made by God 
 concerning him, — " / hiew thee hefore thou ivert 
 formed in the luomh,'^ or the strange fact that 
 Kuth (who was said to have the soul of Thamar) 
 could not bear children until God had imparted 
 to her the spark of a female soul, and many other 
 events which he argues '^ ivoulcl throw discredit 
 on divine justice, unless they ivere jiistijied hy 
 good or had acts done in a former life" 
 
 Origen further asserts that the differences of 
 
 himaan conditions which we see around us are 
 
 caused by difierences in the previous lives of the 
 
 souls thus incarnated ; that souls have sinned in 
 
 wandering from the Creator ; that they occupy 
 
 different stations according to the degree of their 
 
 h
 
 xxii THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 culpability; that they go to higher or lower 
 worlds according to the weight of the corporeal 
 chains they have forged for themselves by their 
 wrong- doing ; and that this earth is one of the 
 primitive and purgatorial worlds. 
 
 We also read of St Augustine exclaiming, — 
 " Did I not, perhaps before I entered my mother^ s 
 womh, live elsewhere in another body ? " Lac- 
 tantius, Arius, Mani, and Gregory of Nyanzen 
 also professed the doctrine of the re -incarnation. 
 
 In latter years the Church has neglected it or 
 not taken it into consideration, although some 
 Catholic priests believe in it to this day, having 
 come to the conclusion that, since baptism is de- 
 clared to be necessary to salvation, providential 
 justice must necessarily send back into this world 
 the souls of infants who die without having re- 
 ceived baptism, in order to give them a new body 
 in which to receive that sacrament. 
 
 Many modern philosophers have based their 
 views of the progress of mankind on the same 
 doctrine, amongst whom may be mentioned 
 Dupont de Nemours, Delormel, Lavater, 
 Fontanelle, Paracelsus, Giordano Bruno, Saint 
 Martin, Fichte, Schlegel, Ballanche, Van Hel- 
 mont, Cardano, Postel, Bonnet, De Bretonne, 
 Charles Fourier, Jean Eeynaud, De Montal,
 
 PREFA CE. xxiii 
 
 Jouffroj, Savj, Chateaubriand, De Codre, De 
 Balzac, Lange, Cavour, Massimo d' Azeglio, Sir 
 Humphrey Davy, Charles Young, Hoeffle, Flam- 
 marion. Fuel, George Sand, Sardou Pezzani, 
 Pelletan, Louis Figuier, Allan Kardec, &c., &c. 
 
 Of these I shall only quote one, the celebrated 
 German critic and philosopher, G. E. Lessing, 
 who endeavoured to establish it on metaphysical 
 grounds. His arguments are briefly these, — The 
 soul is a simple being, capable of infinite concep- 
 tions, but, being a finite being, it is not capable 
 of such infinite conceptions at one and the same 
 time ; it must obtain them gradually in an infinite 
 succession of time. If, however, it obtain them 
 gradually, there must be an order in which, and 
 a degree to which these conceptions are acquired. 
 This order and this measure are the senses. At 
 present the soul has of such senses five, but 
 neither is there any ground to assume that it has 
 conamenced with having five senses, nor tha,t it 
 will stop there. For since nature never takes a 
 leap, the soul must have gone through all the 
 lower stages before it arrives at that which it 
 occupies now. From this he goes on further to 
 say that since nature contains many substances and 
 powers which are not accessible to those senses 
 with which it is now endued, it must be assumed
 
 xxiv THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tliat there will be future stages, at wliich the 
 soul will have as many senses as correspond with 
 the powers of nature. " And what if it were as 
 good as proved," he says in his * Education of the 
 Human Race,' "that the vast slow wheel which 
 is bringing mankind nearer and nearer to its 
 future perfection, is only put in motion by 
 smaller, swifter wheels, each of which contributes 
 its own individual unit to the sum of that great 
 movement ? . . . And so it is ! The very same 
 way by which the Human Eace is travelling on to 
 its perfection, must every individual of that race 
 — one sooner, another later — have travelled over. 
 Have travelled over in one and the same lifetime ? 
 Can he have been, in one and the self-same life, 
 a sensual Jew and a spiritual Christian ? Can 
 he, in the self- same life, have overtaken both 1 
 . . . Surely not that ! But why may not every 
 individual man have existed more than once 
 upon the earth ? Is this hypothesis so laughable 
 merely because it is the oldest ? Because the 
 human understanding, before the sophistries of the 
 schools had perverted and debilitated it, lighted 
 upon it at once ? Why may not / have already 
 performed these steps of my education which the 
 prospect of merely temporal penalties and rewards 
 can bring man to ? And why may I not also
 
 PREFACE. XXV 
 
 have performed all those other steps which the 
 prospect of eternal rewards has so powerfully 
 assisted us to accomplish ? And why should I 
 not come back again as often as I am able to 
 acquire fresh knowledge, fresh expertness, from 
 the experiences of this world % Do I take away 
 so much from one life that there is nothinor to 
 repay me for the trouble of coming back ? Is 
 this a reason ao^ainst it ? Or because I forofet 
 that I have been here already ? Happy is it for 
 me that I do forget ! The recollection of my 
 former condition would permit me to make only 
 a bad use of the present. And even that which 
 I forget now, is it necessarily forgotten for ever ? 
 Or is it a reason against this hypothesis that so 
 much time would have been lost to me ? Lost ? 
 Time lost ? And how much, then, should I miss % 
 Is not a whole eternity mine ? " 
 
 " And this my system," he adds in his little, 
 but important essay, Dass mehr als fuist 
 SiNNE DEN Mexschen sein konnen — in a frag- 
 mentary note discovered after his death — " this 
 my system is certainly the oldest of all philoso- 
 phical systems ; for it is in reality no other than 
 the system of the pre-existence of the soul and 
 metempsychosis, which did not only occupy the 
 speculations of Pythagoras and Plato, but also
 
 xxvi THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 before them of Egyptians, Chaldeans, and Per- 
 sians — in short, of all the sages of the East ; and 
 this circumstance alone ought to work a good 
 prejudice in its favour ; for the first and oldest 
 opinion is, in matters of speculation, always the 
 most probable, because common sense immedi- 
 ately hit upon it." 
 
 I have quoted at some length the reasonings of 
 this eminent philosopher, because I believe they 
 will serve as the fittest introduction to the subject 
 of this book, as they present the doctrine on which 
 it is based in its four principal points or aspects. 
 
 First. That the education of each and every 
 individual must be accomplished as that of the 
 whole human race, by gentle but progressive 
 stages, for which a plurality of earthly existences 
 become necessary. 
 
 Secondly. The just and wise reasons why w^e 
 should forget during our present life those al- 
 ready undergone by our spirit. 
 
 Thirdly. The great superiority of this doctrine 
 over all others, for it affords us the only possible 
 demonstration of the justice of God and of the 
 brotherhood of the human race, and the only 
 plausible explanation of the difficulties, sorrows, 
 and inequalities of this life which every other 
 doctrine has as yet failed to explain.
 
 PREFACE. xxvii 
 
 And Fourthly. The antiquity and universality 
 of this doctrine, which is one of the greatest 
 proofs of its truth, for (to recur to the philoso- 
 pher's own words) "the first and the oldest 
 opinion is, in matters of speculation, always the 
 most probable, because common sense immediately 
 hit upon it." 
 
 Thus, you see that the doctrine with which I 
 have tried to solve the great problems of exis- 
 tence — What am I % How am I ? Where do 
 I come from ? and Whither am I going ? — would 
 seem at once to be the most probable, and philo- 
 sophical, as it is the oldest, a doctrine which 
 would appear to have been both revealed by God 
 and arrived at by the speculations of man, and 
 is certainly a doctrine w^hich has occupied the 
 minds of the greatest philosophers and divines 
 since the creation of the world. 
 
 In writing the following pages, my idea has 
 been to give in the form of a romance the sub- 
 stance of this theory, which to so many minds 
 is the only one that can explain the mysteries of 
 life and reconcile science with religion. 
 
 It may be deemed unwise to attempt to give 
 to the world, in the shape of a novel, that which 
 is, in fact, a religious and psychological disserta- 
 tion ; but, having come to the conclusion that
 
 xxviii THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 most people will read in the form of a romance 
 things which in another form they would never 
 dream of reading, I have thought it better to 
 adopt this method and brave the criticisms of 
 reviewers who only deal with romances as with 
 amusing tales of pure fiction — ^our "passer le 
 temps. 
 
 In the first part of "Through the Ages" I 
 have attempted to portray the unsatisfactory 
 hollowness of the world to a man of a certain 
 degree of enliofhtenment : its unfitness to offer con- 
 solation for the death of a dear relative, and that 
 when we do not find consolation and peace of 
 mind in ourselves it is useless to seek for it else- 
 where. Here is a man favoured by fortune in 
 every way, rich, and envied by all, in good 
 health, and surrounded by everything that could 
 make life agreeable, and yet whose heart is heavy ; 
 and who in the hours of the greatest enjoyment 
 sighs for something beyond, higher and surer 
 than anything the world can give ; and is over- 
 powered by the sense of the mysteries of life 
 which surround him at every step. 
 
 In the second part the scene changes, the veil 
 is lifted, and the peace which passes all under- 
 standing penetrates into his heart ; he learns that 
 love is stronger than death ; and that what we
 
 PREFACE. xxix 
 
 call by that name is only the transition between one 
 state of existence and another ; that the body we 
 occupy one day and quit the next, has in reality 
 but little to do with our heing. For the inad- 
 missible doctrine of the resurrection of the flesh 
 he has learnt to substitute the grand doctrine of 
 transmigration of souls, and the resurrection in 
 the flesh. 
 
 And, dear reader, do not imagine that 1 am 
 drawing on my imagination when I describe the 
 spirit form of a departed soul visiting once more 
 the earth, and becoming so materialised as to be 
 distinctly recognised by him who knew and 
 loved her during her short earthly life; for T 
 have myself witnessed such apparitions, and so 
 have many others ; men and women whose 
 character and position is too well established for 
 anyone to dream of lightly pronouncing them to 
 be devoid of reason for so believing and stating ; 
 besides, this is only what the Bible teaches us as 
 having often taken place in olden times, when 
 the appearance of angels amongst men was too 
 common an occurrence to excite doubt, or even 
 surprise. 
 
 In ^the second part I have tried to narrate 
 the history of two spirits who begin their 
 career almost at the same time, and go on pro-
 
 XXX THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 gressing, by means of a succession of earthly 
 existences through the ages, and hence the title 
 of the book. In them T have attempted to shew 
 the gradual formation of character as it is more 
 or less developed in one way or another by the 
 circumstances in which they are placed, and by 
 the discipline and the trials they respectively 
 undergo. I have endeavoured to present these 
 two characters with all the inconsistencies and 
 self - contradictions peculiar to untrained and 
 uncultivated human nature— with the intricate 
 mixture of good and evil qualities, of greatness 
 and meanness, of wisdom and folly, which belong 
 only to the human race ; and from which the 
 animals are exempted ; and to show how, by 
 means of this very inconsistency of character, 
 they were able to progress in goodness and know- 
 ledge, and were gradually drawn towards one 
 another until their primitive repulsion was deve- 
 loped into a kinder feeling, and at last grew into 
 a mutual love and devotion which braved even 
 death. 
 
 In one of their earthly lives, which takes place 
 in Judea about one thousand eight hundred years 
 ago, and the events of which I have taken prin- 
 cipally from those recorded by the Evangelists, I
 
 PRE FA CE. xxxi 
 
 introduce, with all reverence, the Saviour of man- 
 kind : am I justified in so doing ? 
 
 Can the sacred records of Chiistianity be used 
 as the basis of a fictitious tale ? 
 
 These were the questions which I naturally 
 put to myself whilst writing the Sixth, Seventh, 
 and Eio^hth Xio^hts. And I have since arrived at 
 the conclusion that I was perfectly justified in so 
 doing, having come across Klopstock's famous 
 "Messiah," a poem which describes the principal 
 events attending the passion and crucifixion of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, which has always been 
 considered most orthodox. Besides, the same 
 thing, although in a very diflerent spirit, was done 
 by the immortal Spanish dramatist, Calderon, in 
 his "Autos Sacramentales," a collection of seventy- 
 two religious dramas which were published in six 
 volumes, in the year I7l7, with the sanction of 
 the Catholic Church, and have often been per- 
 formed. Since then, a curious novel, in which 
 Jesus is the hero, has also appeared in Spain, 
 with the full consent and approbation of the 
 Church ; to say nothing of the yearly sacred 
 plays which, like the " Mysteries of the middle 
 ages," are descriptive of the birth of our Lord, or 
 of his passion and death, according to the seasons 
 of the year, and which are performed to this day
 
 xxxii THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 in the theatres of Madrid and the provinces. I 
 have therefore come to the conclusion that such a 
 step, far from being irreverent, is one most 
 orthodox and wise; for the conditions of a good 
 novel should be those which have for their object 
 the inculcation of religion, morality and virtue; 
 by means of an interesting tale of love and woe ; 
 in which vice and crime should be made to strive 
 and combat with virtue and holiness and finally 
 end by being overcome and converted by them. 
 
 And where will the novelist find such an in- 
 exhaustible store of moral virtue and interest as 
 in the Scriptures ? Why should not the character 
 of our Lord be held up to admiration as frequently 
 as possible, when he is precisely the great model 
 offered to us for imitation ? 
 
 It is in Sacred History that we should seek 
 for inspiration, and for fit examples of the 
 triumph of virtue over sin. It was the Bible 
 which inspired such great works as Tasso's 
 " Gerusaleme Liberata," Milton's " Paradise 
 Lost " and " Paradise Kegained," Chateaubriand's 
 " Martyrs," and Cardinal Wiseman's " Fabiola," 
 works which are written in the pure and holy 
 spirit of true faith, and which fill the reader with 
 holy and saint-like aspirations. 
 
 And now I shall conclude this long preface
 
 PREFACE. xxxiii 
 
 by saying of this book, as Lord Lytton says, 
 of " Zanoni," a work very much after the same 
 kind ; "it is a romance, and it is not a romance. 
 It is a truth for those who can comprehend it, 
 and an extravagance for those who cannot."
 
 THROUGH THE AGES 
 
 art t^i gitsi.
 
 art tlje Jfirst. 
 
 I. 
 
 " Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, 
 A shadow on those features fair and thin ; 
 And softly, from that hush'd and darkened room, 
 Two angels issued where hut one went iny 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 It was towards the middle of June, a fine starry 
 night, and the moon shone brightly over our old 
 ancestral home. 
 
 It had been an oppressive, anxious, and busy 
 day for me, for every moment I expected a joy 
 which I fondly endeavoured to realise, or feared 
 a misfortune, of which I hardly dared to think. 
 
 Nearly two years had elapsed since my mar- 
 riage T^dth Conchita Vargas, the lovely Spanish 
 bride who had made my home so supremely 
 happy, and whom I still fondly loved, as when 
 we wandered side by side on the banks of Loch 
 Lomond, during the happy bridal tour I have 
 endeavoured to record in the pages of *'The 
 Hone}Tiioon."
 
 4 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 How long this happiness was to last, was 
 a thought I shrank from dwelling upon, for 
 every movement of the clock brought us 
 nearer to the dreaded hour that was to realize 
 the dreams we had indulged in together for the 
 last two years. Blessed, infinitely blessed as I 
 already was, the Almighty Father of souls was 
 about to bestow upon me a new and fruitful joy. 
 In a few hours, perhaps in a few moments, I was 
 to become a father. Yes, a father ! But who 
 can understand to its full extent the rapturous 
 joy contained in that word ? Ah 1 only Ae, the 
 supremely blessed one, who has pressed against 
 his heart the youthful and beloved bride of his 
 choice with her first-born in her arms. 
 
 The night had been fine and clear, although 
 now, within the last hour, some dark, heavy 
 clouds had gathered over my head, threatening 
 every moment to burst into a storm of rain and 
 thunder. Yet it might pass ofi", for there was a 
 high wind, and here and there large open spaces 
 of blue sky showed still the bright, brilliant 
 firmament sparkling with the myriad worlds of 
 the universe. 
 
 And the moon, the ever-welcome companion 
 of lovers, she too illumined the heavens above 
 me, as ever and anon she appeared as if sailing 
 along through the black thunder clouds which 
 veiled her brightness, casting her pure white 
 light over tree and tower, bringing the whole
 
 PART THE FIRST 5 
 
 Gothic pile into view at every moment, only to 
 be blotted out by the dark clouds that would 
 shadow it as with a funeral pall the next. 
 
 I had lingered long that night smoking my 
 Havannah, on the stately marble terrace that 
 encircled two sides of the old building. I burnt 
 with the anxious yet dreaded desire of regaining 
 the house, and entering once more the tapestried 
 chamber in which I had passed the whole day, 
 and in which lay all my love and all my hopes ; 
 but I trembled at the thought, that perhaps 
 she, on whom all my future happiness or misery 
 depended, might abeady have been called to quit 
 the old tower, for a far more beautiful and 
 enduring mansion from which she could not 
 return, and to which I could not follow her. 
 This fear haunted me. I could think of nothinof 
 else : I tried over and over ao;ain to drive the mad- 
 dening idea from my oppressed brain; but no, it 
 would return, and each time more horribly distinct 
 than before. A thought came over me. " Could 
 this be a presentiment?" and my heart sank 
 within me at the idea. " But no, it cannot be !" 
 I exclaimed ; " the doctor told me only half-an- 
 hour ago that she was going on as well as we 
 could hope, under the alarming crisis which was 
 causing us so much anxiety. It cannot be. . . . 
 God cannot take her away from me . . . now, 
 when I have begun so well to understand her 
 pure and fervent spirit; now, when our souls are
 
 6 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 made as one by our long companionship ; our 
 mutual confidences ; and our sympathy in all high 
 and holy things — now, when she is going to 
 become a mother — and yet ! " 
 
 I sank down overcome upon one of the stone 
 seats of the terrace, and I felt myself shiver and 
 turn cold, even as the very marble upon which I 
 leaned. 
 
 At this moment I felt, for I could not have 
 heard it on account of the distance that separated 
 me from her, I felt a low cry, a cry that filled 
 my whole being with terror, a cry that, thrilling 
 through me, made me feel all the agonies of 
 death, and yet a cry so soft that it might easily 
 have been mistaken for the murmur of the distant 
 fountains that fell softly upon the grass, behind 
 the ivy- covered turrets of Carlton Hall. 
 
 I rose with a shudder, as if an electric shock 
 had run through my whole frame, and I hastened 
 towards the house with a beating heart and an 
 unsteady step. As I mounted the stone staircase 
 that led to our apartments, I was met by the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Ts it all over ? " I cried to him, out of 
 breath. 
 
 He said nothing, but there he stood before the 
 old door, as if barring the way that I should not 
 pass ; the moon shone upon him with all her 
 ghastly brilliancy; his dark dress was in disorder,
 
 PART THE FIRST 7 
 
 and his face was careworn and anxious, and as 
 pale as death. 
 
 He said nothing, but I understood it all too 
 well .... Ah! I shrieked. her beloved name, 
 " Conchita ! " And I fell as if struck by light- 
 ning at his feet.
 
 II. 
 
 " Hojas del arbol caidas 
 Juguetes del viento son, 
 Las ilusiones perdidas, 
 Ay ! son hojas desprendidas, 
 Del arbol del corazon." 
 
 ESPRONCEDA. 
 
 She was gone. My love, my darling, my trea- 
 sure, my all ! 
 
 For some days I could not realize it, my brain 
 refused to retain the fatal truth ; for days, for 
 weeks, I was insensible to it ; sometimes I raved 
 like a madman, and had to be held and fastened 
 down to my bed, for they feared 1 might destroy 
 myself ; sometimes I would wander for hours 
 through the gardens and woods I had so often 
 visited with her, or sit by the tranquil lake side 
 moaning, until my burning brain would lose all 
 consciousness of the surrounding scene, and they 
 would come out and seek me, to find me at last, 
 after hours of useless search, lying senseless on 
 the damp ground. 
 
 The babe had been saved, but what was he to 
 me, now that she was no more I I felt almost a 
 loathing to him ; in my mad folly I accused him
 
 PART THE FIRST 9 
 
 of his mother's early death. I could not bear to 
 see the tiny face that so reminded me of my lost 
 darling ; those dark, clear eyes, which seemed to 
 penetrate the profoundest abyss of my soul, were 
 too much like hers, too much like those sweet 
 almond-shaped Spanish eyes of my Conchita ; 
 eyes that had once been my pride and glory. 
 His hair was also glossy and soft like hers, and 
 of the same golden hue. The resemblance was 
 too great, and I dreaded to look at him. I 
 dreaded to meet his baby gaze. I dreaded his 
 angelic smile, that reminded me of my utter 
 loneliness ; for had not the angels taken her to 
 their home ? 
 
 My heart was all with her, and I had no sym- 
 pathy left for her child. 
 
 I left him at Carlton Hall, and by the advice 
 of the doctors I determined to make a voyage to 
 America, hoping that travelling might give 
 another current to my thoughts, and help to dis- 
 sipate the settled gloom that eventually seemed 
 to take possession of me, and which threatened 
 to undermine my reason and to unsettle my 
 mind. 
 
 This complete change of life, and scene, had 
 become now absolutely necessary for me ; I was 
 therefore obliged to confide my poor motherless 
 babe to the care of Mrs Glenn, my dear old 
 nurse, who, since my youth, had filled the situa- 
 tion of housekeeper at Carlton Hall.
 
 10 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 I knew I could depend on her maternal care, 
 and on the deep attachment that bound her per- 
 sonally to me, as well as to the family ; two of 
 her daughters also lived on the property, having 
 married men who had been employed an the 
 place for years. 
 
 My mind was therefore at ease, as far as the 
 child was concerned. I felt assured on that point ; 
 as I stood on the broad deck of the noble steamer, 
 as she majestically floated down the Mersey bear- 
 ing me to a new world, and as I looked back on 
 the land I was leaving, and which only seemed 
 to contain for me a grave ! 
 
 I knew that my child would at least want for 
 nothing in my absence, except indeed the sweet 
 mother, whom it had pleased God to call nearer 
 to His throne of glory. 
 
 We had continual head winds, and therefore a 
 rough and slow passage across the Atlantic. I 
 passed whole days and nights on deck alone, 
 leaning over the stern of the vessel contemplating 
 the ever- changing waves of the restless sea. 
 
 I never could have imagined anything so solemn, 
 so grand, and so glorious ; and yet it seemed to 
 have no effect upon me whatever, unless it were 
 to increase my gloom. 
 
 We were nearly two weeks at sea. Two weeks 
 ■ — that seemed as centuries for my anxious fellow- 
 passengers, who for the most part were probably 
 expecting to meet their families and fiiends at the
 
 PART THE FIRST. ii 
 
 end of the voyage — but to me, left alone in the 
 world, in the wide, wide world, they passed like 
 a dream. I could keep no account of days, nor 
 think of anything but my lost happiness, and the 
 one who absorbed every thought of my soul. 
 
 Since the day we left Liverpool, the infuriated 
 waves had dashed continually with all their 
 violence against our frail and fragile ship. One 
 plank alone separated us from the profound 
 abyss of the everlasting deep. '* Oh 1 if that 
 plank would only fail!" I thought at the time, 
 " I should then join my lost love again, never 
 to part from her more." 
 
 One cannot help shuddering at the thought of 
 the immensity of the ocean that is spread around 
 us on all sides. — Water, water — nothing but 
 water ; and above our heads the still broader 
 firmament, sparkling with its myriads of worlds, 
 each of which contains oceans as large, or larger 
 than the one upon which we are now floating. 
 
 The spectacle which the sea offers during the 
 tranquil hours of the long night, is perhaps still 
 more beautiful and touching, than when illumined 
 by the garish light of day, and is certainly not 
 less sublime, for then all human voices are hushed 
 in sleep, aU is silent as the grave on board, and 
 the wide ocean's deep, mellow, and murmuring 
 voice alone is heard, filling the heart with dread ; 
 and yet with great thoughts too — for it is full of 
 deep, mysterious meaning to the soul brought 

 
 12 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 face to face with it alone in the silence of the 
 night. 
 
 Who has not felt awe when he has contem- 
 plated alone the immensity of the deep, chanting 
 its eternal requiem over the dead it holds in its 
 bosom, or lulling them by its mournful voice to 
 unbroken slumbers in the caverns of its vast 
 desert! Who that has thus stood by himself 
 contemplating such a scene, and filled with such 
 sad thoughts as mine then were, but has not 
 yearned to feel the warm pressure of some dear 
 and tender hand in his, that would have assured 
 him of human sympathy and human love ! 
 
 And yet nowhere does one feel more the pre- 
 sence of the Creator than in the midst of the 
 lonely ocean, where there is no other hand to save. 
 For the sea is but a vast cemetery, and the 
 thousands that slumber in its depths seem to 
 praise the Lord with the mighty voice of its ever- 
 rolling waves. 
 
 But the sea is not hihabited only by the 
 corpses of the dead ; thousands of living beings 
 breathe in it who also praise the Lord in their 
 way, and afford ample proof of His wisdom and 
 of His power. The deep has its monsters as well 
 as the earth, and it contains the largest as well 
 as the smallest specimens of the animal creation, 
 from the wondrous cetaceous tribe, to the invisible 
 infusoria, from the colossal whale of the south sea, 
 to the diminutive insect imperceptible to the
 
 PART THE FIRST. 13 
 
 human eye. It has its butterflies as well as the 
 air. Fire-flies flit through its billows, and, like 
 their terrestrial representatives, dance and gleam 
 amidst the foliage of a tropical forest. Little 
 living lamps are hung amongst the waves, and 
 pour out their silvery radiance from vital urns, 
 which are replenished as fast as exhausted. The 
 transparency of some of these inhabitants of the 
 deep gives them an appearance of fairy workman- 
 ship, which is perfectly enchanting. It can 
 hardly be said I exaggerate, if I state that some of 
 them resemble little globes of the purest ice. 
 
 Ah ! indeed there is something fascinating in 
 the sea and its crystalline inhabitants. Hom^s and 
 hours have I passed, leaning over the side of the 
 vessel, watching the phosphorescent lights that 
 surround it at night, and often have I found con- 
 solation in those vague and ghastly apparitions 
 that not all the s}Tnpathy of my friends could 
 obtain for me with their stereotyped consolations. 
 Alone in the midst of the waves one feels sur- 
 rounded by invisible voices, that pour into one's 
 heart the comfort which human lips in vain try 
 to bestow upon their fellow creatures. 
 
 To encounter a ship in the middle of the 
 Atlantic is an occurrence common enough, and 
 yet one that brings each time a new sense of joy 
 to our hearts. The steamship is the emblem 
 of our modern civilisation, and to discover one on 
 the horizon makes one feel that even upon this
 
 14 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 liquid desert, man has succeeded in extending 
 his dominion by the aid of civilisation and 
 science. I have often contemplated those 
 apparitions, for such did they seem to me, and 
 each time they have suggested a new train of 
 ideas, particularly at night when all is mystery 
 and obscurity. 
 
 A light in the distance is first seen, dim and 
 uncertain, it grows larger and larger every 
 minute, then we perceive a dark body surmounted 
 by some white sails ; nearer it approaches. The 
 sailors recognise each other as fellow beings, and 
 pass a signal of greeting, two rockets fly into the 
 air, disturbing, for one moment, the tranquil 
 darkness of the night. A moment afterwards 
 this passing vision has completely vanished. 
 Whither has it gone % No one knows. Most 
 likely we shall never see those fellow men again, 
 and yet we are exposed to the same dangers, we 
 are on the borders of the same unfathomable 
 abyss. Perhaps in half-an-hour we may sleep 
 with them in one common grave. The same 
 waves may roll over us, and over them, the same 
 storm may beat over our remains and add new 
 corpses to the common grave. And so we pass 
 them as if they were not total strangers to us. 
 Strangers ! Are there two men upon this earth 
 who can be said to be strangers to each other ? 
 
 At last, after fourteen days of sea, we arrived 
 in sight of Long Island, to the great joy of my
 
 PART THE FIRST 15 
 
 companions. The Pilot came on board with the 
 newspapers, which were soon seized upon and 
 devoured by my anxious fellow-jDassengers. To 
 me they could tell nothing that I cared to hear. 
 They could announce no good tidings of home or 
 friends, and they could bring no bad news to 
 make my heart feel heavier than it did. 
 
 That afternoon we entered the harbour and 
 anchored off Jersey City. The steamer was soon 
 over-run by the numerous friends and relations 
 of our passengers. Every one had somebody 
 belono^ino: to him who came on board to bid 
 him welcome to the new world. Amidst this 
 scene of general joy, I alone was sad and lonely, 
 I felt even more lonely than I did on the midst 
 of the ocean the day before. 
 
 The passengers are all visibly agitated at the 
 sight of the crowd that invades the pier, and 
 even the deck of the steamer. They all try to 
 recognise amongst them some friend, or some 
 relation. In one corner, and standing upon some 
 ropes, there is a man seeking his wife with his 
 anxious eyes ; a little farther, a young woman 
 standing upon the very verge of the vessel is 
 waving her handkerchief, while a little behind 
 her another, perhaps a sister, has taken off her 
 hat which she holds in the air as a token of 
 recognition to a young man, who, with his eyes 
 fixed upon her, stands on the pier below. Upon 
 one of the wheels a little fat man with a red nose
 
 i6 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 seeks in every direction, with his opera glass, 
 some person who does not seem to he forthcoming, 
 or who does not see him in his elevated position. 
 At my very side, two young ladies, with blue 
 eyes and golden hair, fall into each others arms ; 
 while upon the plank thrown across the water, 
 that yet separates us from the land, a young 
 sailor stands, holding in his arms his sweetheart, 
 they both blush and look half ashamed of them- 
 selves, but it would be impossible to paint the 
 joy and the unconcealed happiness their faces 
 expressed as they went down on to the pier to 
 make room for the stout lady and her white- 
 haired husband, who were landing just then. 
 
 I turned my head not to see all this joy that 
 made my heart feel only the more sad, every one 
 had some one belonging to him, some one who 
 loved him, some one to love and to cherish ; I 
 had no one,^ — father, mother, brothers, wife, all had 
 gone, and now I was alone ! alone ! . . . With 
 an uncertain step, and a sad look, I quitted the 
 good old ship that had borne me safely across the 
 broad Atlantic, and I stepped upon the American 
 soil as I might have stepped upon a grave.
 
 III. 
 
 " I suoi pensieri in lui dormir non puono." 
 
 Tasso, Gerusaleme Liberata. 
 
 I REMAINED six months in the United States, 
 during which time I visited all the principal cities of 
 this immense country. New York with all its busy 
 life and noise, Washington with its grand public 
 buildings, Baltimore with its lovely daughters, 
 Boston with its literary and scientific institutions, 
 and Philadelphia with its charming society ; but 
 nowhere did I succeed in finding that balm and 
 consolation which was the aim and object of my 
 travels. I hunted the wild bufialo in the prairies, 
 and I navigated the dangerous rapids of the 
 rivers from their very source, but nothing 
 succeeded in mitigating my sorrow, much less 
 in efiacing from my mind the constant bitter 
 regret for the great loss I had so recently ex- 
 perienced, aud at last I came to the conclusion 
 that when one does not find consolation and 
 peace of mind in oneself, it is useless to seek for 
 it in outw^ard distractions. 
 
 But my travels were not quite wasted upon me. 
 I have always been very fond of travelling, and 
 
 I. B
 
 1 8 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 particularly of travelling in America, where it is 
 impossible not to derive some good and nsefal 
 knowledore from all one sees. 
 
 In this immense continent the continuous and 
 rapid advances of civilisation are perhaps more 
 visible than anywhere else. 
 
 Half a century has hardly elapsed since the 
 days when steam and electricity were almost un- 
 known ; to-day the entire superfice of this vast 
 country is traversed in every direction by railway 
 lines, and even through the still savage prairies of 
 the far west does the steam-engine work its way 
 to the golden gates of California. 
 
 The lakes and rivers that twenty years ago 
 were unknown to us, are to-day navigated to 
 their very sources, by the palace-like steamers 
 that carry civilisation and prosperity to the very 
 heart of this comparatively virgin world. 
 
 Fifty years ago, months were necessary to 
 transmit news to Europe, to hold, indeed, any 
 sort of communication with the old world. To- 
 day the electric telegrams cross the broad Atlantic 
 with the rapidity of lightning, and our message 
 is received in America four hours before it left 
 London ! 
 
 Could Columbus come back and look again 
 upon this fair half of the world that he alone had 
 the courage to discover and give to civilisation, 
 would he ever be able to realise that it was the 
 same land that his dreams, his endeavours, his
 
 PART THE FIRST 19 
 
 heart-broken aspirations and invincible persever- 
 ance, had at last wrested, as it were, from the broad 
 bosom of the ocean ; from the dreaded darkness of 
 the unknown and invisible ; and given as a free 
 gift, a bright radiant jewel to shine in the crown 
 of the noble-minded Spanish queen, the only 
 sovereign of Europe who would listen with inte- 
 rest to his enthusiasm, or give credence to his 
 arguments, and who so grandly gave her own 
 personal jewels to procure him the means of un- 
 dertaking his long, lonely, hazardous voyage across 
 undiscovered seas ; the result of which was to be- 
 stow on her country and on her descendants the 
 sovereignty of a new world ? Would either Colum- 
 bus or his companions recognise in the luxurious, 
 highly cultivated, utilitarian, bustling, go-ahead 
 country, that has so far outstripped the progress 
 of their own, the virgin America of the impene- 
 trable forests they had given to the knowledge, 
 and the benefit of Christendom % Who indeed 
 would believe that this flourishing and nobly 
 utilitarian country was but the baby child of poor 
 old Spain % 
 
 Where the first early discoverers found virgin 
 woods, are now spread wide fields and meadows, 
 cultivated and cared for with all the appliances of 
 modern improvement. The httle huts and vil- 
 lages of the Indians have become rich cities ; and 
 the poor wigwams of the savages have been con-
 
 20 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 verted into luxurious mansions, that can compare 
 in every respect with the richest palaces of Europe. 
 
 Such are the effects of civilisation. In Europe, 
 where all these changes have been brouo-ht about 
 by slow and marked degrees, it is not so noticeable ; 
 but in America it is impossible not to marvel and 
 wonder at the great victories obtained by the 
 mind of man over wild nature. 
 
 "Can this progress go on for ever"?" is the 
 question one often asks oneself at seeing at every 
 instant new proofs of its wonders. " Civilisation 
 once commenced, will it ever stop '? " No ; whilst 
 man inhabits this planet, it will, it must go on 
 progressing ; there is that in the human mind 
 that conducts it towards perfection, something 
 that prevents it from ever standing still. Can it 
 be possible that our soul, made after God's 
 image, aspires towards its Creator — towards per- 
 fection ? Or is it perchance that His divinity 
 attracts all and everything created, towards its 
 Creator, the source of infinity ? But can this 
 progress ever reach a climax ? Shall we ever 
 arrive at the top of the ladder, and be all made 
 perfect *? No, this cannot be, for we are so con- 
 structed, that if to-day we could be all alike, to- 
 morrow there would already be some wiser, and 
 better, and further advanced than the rest, and 
 the standard of perfection is ever before us ! 
 
 Besides, the wisdom and goodness of God are 
 infinite like Himself, and the wiser and better we
 
 PART THE FIRST. 21 
 
 become the farther we appear from possessing 
 either. The nearer we approach to His eternal 
 glory the more we are able to understand the little 
 we know, and the immensity of what lies before us. 
 Progress, therefore, can know no limits ; if it had 
 any, surely we would have reached them long ago. 
 
 But the sun will always gild the tops of the 
 mountain before it shines upon the plain ; there- 
 fore the few in every country must govern both 
 morally and physically the many. The Constitu- 
 tion of the United States has made all its sub- 
 jects alike, but are there in the whole continent 
 of America two men exactly alike ? For my 
 part I know no country where there exists such 
 inequality between men, as in the United States. 
 
 The Americans are accused of ha^dnor neo-lected 
 
 o o 
 
 their moral education in their anxiety to develope 
 their material progress to its full extent. This 
 comes from the fact that the United States have 
 no national religion. All religions are here con- 
 sidered ahke ; the government of the country has 
 nothing whatever to do with them, and lets them 
 fight their own battles as well as they can. So 
 the result is, that religion is quite a matter of 
 fashion or feeHng in the States, the most fashion- 
 able church is the best supported, and when it 
 ceases to be so, then it is done away with alto- 
 gether. There exists in Broadway a large hand- 
 some church, that when it went out of fashion 
 was changed into a theatre ! Theatre or church,
 
 22 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 all seems to be the same now-a-days. But I 
 really cannot say that I like to see the house of 
 God changed into a play-house. 
 
 But is this the fault of the people ? Is it not 
 rather the fault of the churches themselves and of 
 the religions they teach % I must say that as for 
 morals and real religious feeling, the Americans 
 are far in advance of us. They may not care so 
 much for their churches, but they evidently do 
 not shut their eyes to avoid seeing the darkness 
 of the past, but open them to look to the light of 
 the present. 
 
 " Whatever may have been the faults of the 
 ancient governments," says B. Disraeli, speaking 
 of forms of government, "they were in closer 
 relation to the times, to the countries, and to the 
 governed than ours. The ancients invented their 
 governments according to their wants ; the 
 moderns have adopted foreign policies, and then 
 modelled their conduct upon this borrowed 
 regulation. This circumstance has occasioned 
 our manners and our customs to be so confused, 
 and absurd, and unphilosophical. What business 
 had we, for instance, to adopt the Eoman law — 
 a law foreign to our manners, and consequently 
 disadvantageous ? He who profoundly meditates 
 upon the situation of Modern Europe will also 
 discover how productive of misery has been the 
 senseless adoption of oriental customs by northern 
 people." Can this not be equally well appHed and
 
 PART THE FIRST, 23 
 
 with greater reason to our religious institutions ? 
 What business had we to bind the intellect and 
 fetter the conscience, by adopting the garb of 
 ancient Jewish faith, in spite of its being so 
 much too narrow for us, and for our present 
 knowledge of the universe ? If anything has 
 been productive of misery to Europe, I am sure 
 this adoption of an old Hebrew philosophy by a 
 modern and northern progressive people has been 
 the greatest. 
 
 This is the reason why to-day we think much 
 more of the form of adoration, and of maintaining 
 our dogmas, than of religion itself. And I venture 
 to say that not half the men that call themselves 
 Christians know what that word really means. 
 
 When will the Christian churches be freed from 
 the narrow-mindedness and false ideas that are 
 at present undermining their very foundations \ 
 When will men get to understand that what God 
 expects from us, is not that we should belong to 
 this or that community, nor hold to this or that 
 dogma, nor, indeed, to any special phase of belief, 
 but that we should do unto others as we would 
 have others do unto us ? When shall we fully 
 comprehend the words of Jesus, " Not those 
 who call Lord ! Lord ! will enter the kins^dom of 
 heaven, but only those who do the will of my 
 •Father that is in heaven ? " And when, oh God ! 
 shall we realise that religion is the love that 
 unites the creature with his Creator.
 
 IV. 
 
 " Thy mighty waste of waters rushing on, 
 Yet inexhaustless, great Niagara, 
 Monarch of floods, whose torrent of an hour 
 Surpasses mighty rivers' annual floods, 
 And seems an emblem of eternity." 
 
 N. Whyte. 
 
 The 9th of August, about eight o'clock in the 
 morning, I left New York by the railway with 
 the intention of visiting Niagara. Niao^ara ! 
 How many dreams and how many efforts of the 
 imagination are there comprised in this word ! 
 Niagara, the wonder of the whole world, the most 
 marvellous scene of this planet, was going to be 
 developed before my eyes, and my heart beat at 
 the idea, that at last this dream of my life would 
 soon be turned into a remembrance. 
 
 The numerous railways of the United States 
 form a no small phase of its civilisation. Every 
 body knows the superiority of their cars over our 
 usual carriages, and this superiority demonstrated 
 itself in full to me during my journey to Canada, 
 that takes about twelve hours to perform. 
 
 The Company of the Erie Eailway put one of
 
 PART THE FIRST 25 
 
 tteir splendid palace-cars at my disposal, free of 
 charge, a carriage capable of holding forty- eight 
 persons with the greatest comfort and ease. 
 
 And here let me thank the different companies 
 of the American railways and their presidents, 
 for their unbounded kindness to me during 
 my tour in the United States, where I never 
 was allowed to pay a railway fare, but had 
 splendid saloon cars always put at my disposal 
 whenever I wanted to go anywhere, and fre- 
 quently sumptuous luncheons supplied by the 
 courtesy of the directors. 
 
 The country through which the train passes on 
 its way north is • extremely picturesque and rich. 
 It runs successively through the valleys of the 
 Hudson, the Delaware, and the Susquehannah. 
 It would be impossible to describe the beauties of 
 these majestic rivers, the size and surroundings of 
 New York Bay, the glories of the Palissades and 
 highlands of the Hudson river, the romantic 
 beauties of the Delaware and its grand canals, 
 and the luxurious vegetation of the lovely and 
 poetic Susquehannah, beautiful in every part, 
 even as its Indian name. 
 
 We dined on the banks of this charming; river, 
 in the hotel known as the Hearrucca House, and 
 then continued our journey on towards Buffalo, 
 passing just below the lovely falls of the Genesee 
 river, that pour down a mighty torrent of water 
 from a height of no less than three hundred feet.
 
 26 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 At half-past one in tlie morning we arrived at 
 Niagara, a small station, and tlie last I believe in 
 the United States. An omnibus conducted us to 
 the hotel, a monster building, as all the great 
 hotels are in this country. 
 
 From the railway I could hear the roar of the 
 waters, and a large white misty cloud, rising to a 
 prodigious height upon the dark blue sky, 
 showed me the proximity of the great cataract. 
 
 At first I took this colossal column of 
 evaporated water for a mere illusion, but no, it 
 was a reality, although an astounding one, for 
 I was as yet far away from the Falls themselves. 
 
 At that moment the full moon of August 
 illumined this vaporous spray of the waters, that 
 seemed to wish to invade the skies, not con- 
 tented with the possession of the greater part of 
 the planet. 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 It was already late in the afternoon, but I took 
 a fly to drive over to the Falls. 
 
 We passed through the village, a small town 
 entirely formed by hotels and shops, to-day the 
 latter were all closed, for it happened to be Sun- 
 day, and the pious inhabitants directed their 
 steps towards their respective churches, in order 
 to worship God each in his own way ; but how 
 much more truly was I going to worship the 
 almighty Creator, by admiring His glorious 
 work I How much more soul-inspiring was my
 
 PART THE FIRST. 27 
 
 awe-stricken admiration, than all their too often 
 empty repetition of words ! 
 
 We crossed the suspension bridge. 
 
 This stupendous structure measures eight 
 hundred feet in length, and is hung, as if by a 
 miracle, some three hundred feet in the air ; 
 beneath it dash, wdth all their might, the en- 
 furiated waves of the rapids, impelled along by 
 the swift current, midst foam, and mist, and 
 spray, forming in their headlong career the 
 celebrated whirlpool a little way beyond the 
 bridge. 
 
 This bridge is constructed entirely of iron, and 
 weighs eight hundred tons, it is of two stories, 
 one above for the trains, and another beneath for 
 carriages and foot passengers. 
 
 Once in Canada, the road goes on by the side 
 of the river for nearly two miles ; we con- 
 tinued this way, the rapids dashing against 
 the sides of the rocks with more and more im- 
 petuosity, the nearer we approached the great 
 cataract ; while the stone walls of this infernal 
 whirlpool became higher and higher. 
 
 We ascend to about a height of some three 
 hundred feet. In front of us, on the other side of 
 the river, a snow-white torrent falls from the top 
 of the high cliff ; it is called the Bridal veil, and 
 is an artificial waterfall. 
 
 The carriage continues its onward way. It is 
 a splendid day, the last rays of the setting sun
 
 28 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 linger still upon the trees, upon the trees attired 
 in those warm autumnal tints that have made 
 the American-Indian summer, as it is called, so 
 famous all over the world. The western sky is 
 aglow with indescribable radiancy, and the mur- 
 muring waters below reflect each tint of the 
 setting sun, thus making of the rapids a perfect 
 river of molten fire. 
 
 Onward still we go. My heart beats with 
 excitement. I tell the coachman to go still faster, 
 every moment seems a century — after a few 
 minutes a thick rain begins to pour down upon 
 us — a perfect deluge — and yet the sky is as 
 bright as ever ; there before me is the departing 
 Lord of day shining through the waters and 
 making the most perfect rainbow of every colour 
 with its last but still powerful rays. 
 
 This is not rain, the coachman says, as he gets 
 down to close the carriage, which is an open one : 
 it is the spray from the cataract. I cannot 
 speak, — before me, at my right, at my left, there 
 is nothing but water, water falling on every side. 
 
 The sound of this immense volume of ever- 
 falling water, is louder than the loudest thunder 
 I ever heard ; and yet, I can hear every pulsation 
 of my beating heart ! 
 
 Suddenly the wind changes, the spray is 
 driven in another direction, and the blinding 
 shower ceases for a moment to envelope my 
 carriage, the mist is dispersed — just in front of me
 
 PART THE FIRST. 29 
 
 — just before my eyes — and close, quite close, 
 closer tlian I could have imagined, I beliold — 
 Niagara. . . . Great God! who can describe 
 the effect this glorious sio;ht has on the heart of 
 thy adoring creature ! 
 
 • ••••••• 
 
 Since that never-to-be-forgotten moment, I 
 have often seen Niagara. I have seen it from all 
 points, and under all circumstances. Lighted up 
 by the silvery moon, and red with the reflection 
 of the setting sun. Surrounded by the thousand 
 different colours of the autumnal foliage, and 
 draped in its snowy vestments of mid-winter, 
 when, perhaps, it presents the grandest and most 
 wonderful spectacle of all ; but it never impressed 
 me so much as on my first ^dsit, when I beheld, 
 for the first time in my life, this, the most 
 striking and sublime of e^lrthly scenes. 
 
 But what can I say that will convey to my 
 readers an idea of the marvellous reality ? How 
 many travellers have attempted to describe it, 
 and yet, not one has as yet been able to create in 
 the mind of his reader, a conception of what it 
 really is. 
 
 The first impression that Niagara makes upon 
 the traveller, is one of stupor ; amazed, dazzled, 
 one is obliged to shut one's eyes and cover 
 one's ears ; a new sensation takes possession of the 
 astounded mind. The spray rising to a colossal 
 height over the Falls, hides it entirely from our
 
 30 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 gaze, for the first moment or two, and it is only 
 througli this mist, and after some time, that one 
 can perceive the cataract, at least the top part of 
 it, for the bottom is always lost in the white 
 foam which the violent fall of this stupendous 
 volume of water produces as it strikes the rocks 
 below. The spray, carried by the wind, falls all 
 around like a thick piercing rain. 
 
 When I again opened my eyes a reaction came 
 over me, my first impressions were scarcely real- 
 ised, and a feeling of disappointment crept over me. 
 I had heard so much of Niagara, of its beauties 
 and its colossal size, that I found, when at last 
 I was able to judge for myself, that I had enter- 
 tained in my mind a most exaggerated picture of 
 it, my vivid imagination had quite outrivalled the 
 greatest wonder of the earth, and for one moment 
 I would have given anything not to have seen the 
 reality. 
 
 I believe that this disappointment has been 
 felt by almost all those who have visited the great 
 waterfall. 
 
 But this feeling only lasted, a short time, for 
 the longer one looks at this perpetual fall of water, 
 the more one is able to realise its grandeur, and 
 is obliged to admire it ; it seems to grow under 
 our very eyes. 
 
 Niagara, I believe, means in the Indian lan- 
 guage " thunder of waters," and well it deserves 
 its name.
 
 PART THE FIRST 31 
 
 Between tlie two principal falls — that is to say, 
 between the American and the Horse- Shoe Fall of 
 Canada — there are a few picturesque and lovely 
 islands which seem to have sprung of the foam 
 caused by the waters. Nothing can equal their 
 wild, glorious shores covered with luxuriant vege- 
 tation of the most vivid hues, from the brig^ht red 
 to the palest yellow, and constantly washed by 
 the ever green water as it falls into the abyss 
 below. 
 
 On this island I used often to stand and watch 
 the rapids above the Falls, and the mysterious and 
 impenetrable foam and spray below. There are 
 bridges from island to island, bridges that the 
 rush of the water would seem must break to 
 atoms every instant, but they are however, safe 
 enough. Upon one of these bridges I have passed 
 hours leaning upon the rustic railing and gazing 
 below upon the falling waters, over which there 
 is always a rainbow trembling, as if it really were 
 in the angry surge, and not merely a reflection. 
 
 " From side to side, beneath the glittering moon, 
 An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, 
 Like hope upon a death-bed, and worn ; 
 Its steely dyes, while all around is torn 
 By the distracted waters, bears serene 
 Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn ; 
 Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene. 
 Love watching madness with unalterable mien." 
 
 as I beheve Byron's verses run. But the real 
 time to stand upon those fairy-like islands and
 
 32 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 watch the ever-falling waters and the eternally 
 rising spray, is at night. When the tourist leaves 
 them to seek his hotel bed at night, when the 
 full moon of August shines like silver over the 
 whole scene, blending every outline, and making 
 the ever-glorious picture appear still more myste- 
 rious and sublime, under the bright and clear 
 light of the harvest moon. Calypso herself would 
 have been proud of this island. 
 
 The peculiar effect of moonlight upon the fea- 
 tures of a landscape is to harmonise, to blend, to 
 soften down, to spiritualise it, so to speak. Every- 
 thing within its smile is lighter, more graceful, 
 less material. The rivers are turned into vales of 
 winding silver, the waterfall turns into a cascade 
 of diamonds ; the very cliffs lose their harshness 
 of outline ; the trees, in their picturesque repose, 
 look like the trees of a dream ; and even the 
 thunder of the waters in sympathy with the scene 
 falls upon the ear with musical cadence. 
 
 It is standing upon this very Luna island that I 
 have witnessed the extraordinary phenomenon of the 
 lunar rainbow, from which I believe the spot derives 
 its name, and which I believe can only be seen here. 
 If we think the rainbow we are so accustomed to 
 see beautiful, how much more beautiful must we 
 think this pale, transparent bow formed by the 
 silvery reflection of the midnight moon ? 
 • . • • . . 
 
 I had a strong desire to go below the Falls, so I
 
 PART THE FIRST, 
 
 00 
 
 liired a guide and a dress, and went doT\Ti from 
 the Canada side. 
 
 A large and interestins: museum lias been erected 
 in front of the site of the late famous table rock that 
 came down in 1862. Here travellers change their 
 dresses for the waterproof garments usually worn 
 for this expedition ; those of the ladies are exactly 
 like those worn by the men — ^they consist of a 
 pair of trowsers, a gTeat-coat of oilskin, T\'ith a 
 large hood which covers the head, and a pair 
 of galoshes. Much amusement is thus derived, 
 when the party meets again in front of the hotel, 
 after the metamorphosis, for it is impossible to 
 tell who is who, disguised as everybody is with 
 this most unbecoming of all costumes, and of which 
 I am sure the gTeat Worth never even dreamt. 
 
 But here all the fun ceases, for the excursion is 
 much too dangerous to be amusing or even plea- 
 sant. 
 
 The sensation one experiences is one of the most 
 disagreeable. It is impossible to hear an}i:hing 
 whatever but the roar of the cataract ; moreover, 
 the spray borne by the ^-ind makes one quite 
 blind, and penetrates €ven into the ears. The 
 rocks are so slippery that walking is almost im- 
 possible ; and when at last I arrived at the little 
 wooden bridge, constructed at the very bottom of 
 the falls, amidst the falling water, I was so tired 
 and so bewildered that I could not enjoy the 
 
 c
 
 34 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 glorious spectacle of the Horse-shoe fall seen from 
 underneath. 
 
 The water kept rolling down in torrents over 
 me, so that I could not open my eyes. Presently 
 my feet slipped on the moss -covered wooden 
 bridge, and I fell heavily upon it. Fortunately I 
 did not lose my presence of mind, but kept firm 
 hold of the hand-railing, the only thing that saved 
 me from falling into the roaring, seething waters 
 below, while my body hung half over them. 
 Of course my guide, a strong negro of athletic 
 frame, soon came to my rescue, and thus saved 
 me from a sure death amidst the dash of the 
 waters of Niagara Falls.
 
 V. 
 
 " From our own paths, our love's attesting bowers, 
 I am not gone ; 
 In the deep hush of midnight's whispering hours. 
 
 Thou art not alone ! 
 Not alone when by the haunted stream thou weepest ; 
 
 That stream whose tone 
 Murmurs of thoughts the holiest and the deepest 
 We two have known." 
 
 Mrs Hemans. 
 
 I EETURXED to New York about the middle 
 of November, after a short tour through Canada 
 and the Northern States of the Union. I had 
 seen a great deal in that time, but I could not 
 say that my travels had done me much good in 
 the T\'aj of bringing consolation to my sad and 
 lonely spirit. At the end of ^ve months my 
 mind was in the same desponding condition in 
 which the sudden death of my Conchita had 
 left it. 
 
 When once more I took up my abode at the 
 Fifth Avenue Hotel, I was in such low spirits 
 that my friends began to get anxious about me, 
 and one of them suggested that 1 should try 
 spiritualism. 
 
 " T wonder," he said, '' Lord Carlton, that you
 
 36 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 have never been at a seance. 1 am sure you 
 would be just the man to be convinced." 
 
 " I have heard a great deal about spirits and 
 table-turning in my time," I answered ; "indeed, 
 who has not heard of the famous Home, who for 
 some time was the talk of the two continents ; 
 but in those days I was so happy with my wife, 
 that I did not need to seek communications from 
 another world." 
 
 " But now you have lost your dear wife, I am 
 sure you need it. And I am convinced," he added, 
 " that you would derive great consolation if you 
 could obtain a true communication from her." 
 
 " I doubt it very much, my dear fellow," I 
 vsaid ; " not that I doubt for one moment the 
 possibility of holding communication with the 
 other world, — for after all it is no more than the 
 Church teaches and all believe, — but I cannot 
 bring myself to hope that I shall ever see or com- 
 municate with my darling Conchita in this world. 
 I ana not a saint that she, an angel as she now 
 is, should come and converse with, ' or appear 
 to me.' " 
 
 *' Without being a saint, have you not even a 
 greater chance that she should come to you ? To 
 whom, indeed, should she appear in this world 
 but to her husband, the father of her child ? 
 I am sure if any one needs consolation it is surely 
 you. Now, do try ; you will lose nothing by 
 attending a seance, and you might derive a great
 
 PART THE FIRST, 37 
 
 deal of good fi'om it, for I do not think you 
 are one of those who would attribute all the 
 manifestations you might witness to mechanical 
 arrangements and clever legerdemain." 
 
 " If such is the cause of the manifestations you 
 speak of, I shall soon detect them, for I can tell 
 you that I will be on my guard, and will have 
 my eyes wide open all the time." 
 
 So I consented to go with my friend to visit a 
 medium, as I believe the spiritualists call those 
 magnetic batteries of theirs. It was some time 
 before we could fix on one however ; for I 
 strongly objected to see a paid one, thinking that 
 I would have naturally more faith in him if I 
 could be sure he derived no profit from the pro- 
 ceedings. But such a medium could not be 
 found ; for neither my friend, who, by-the-by, 
 was not a confirmed spiritualist, nor I, had any 
 personal acquaintance with any one possessing 
 the necessary qualifications, and no private per- 
 son would have given a seance to total strangers, 
 as we must necessarily have been to him. 
 
 At last we decided to go to Doctor Slade, 
 whom we heard of as a very celebrated medium ; 
 and a very pleasant, gentlemanlike man we found 
 him to be. 
 
 We repaired together to his house ; but when 
 I had announced the object of my visit to the 
 doctor, my friend left me, and I entered the sacred 
 room with him alone.
 
 38 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I was determined to detect the least sign of 
 trickery on the part of the poor medium, so I 
 never for one moment took my eyes from him 
 during the whole time our seance lasted. 
 
 He first made me examine minutely the whole 
 room, a small back drawing-room, lighted by the 
 brilliant rays of the mid-day sun. Then we sat 
 down to a small table in the centre of the room, 
 when I was quite convinced that there was no 
 possibility of deception whatever. He sat at the 
 side and I at the top nearer the window, my feet 
 resting on his the whole time, so that if he had 
 made the slightest movement I must have 
 necessarily felt it. 
 
 Thus we sat in silence for at least ten minutes, 
 during which nothing happened, although he 
 kept sa37ing that he heard raps, that the table was 
 beginning to move, and that the S23irits had not 
 as yet enough power. 
 
 Presently I did really hear a few indistinct 
 raps which sounded to my ear wonderfully like 
 the twittering of birds. 
 
 The doctor said the spirits were gaining force, 
 and then asked the table , for there was no one 
 present except myself, " AVill the spirits present 
 communicate ? " Three loud taps came then, just 
 under my hand, which, I was sure, he could not 
 have produced. " Will the spirits write ? '' he 
 asked, after a time. Three taps more came 
 immediately. "That means yes," he said; "we
 
 PART THE FIRST 39 
 
 have established a code of signals between us, 
 one tap means no ; two taps mean doubtful, and 
 three taps mean yes." The table gave three 
 taps more, and louder than ever as if corroborating 
 his statement. 
 
 '' Are you sure you are not doing all this ? " I 
 then said, utterly bewildered. I do not remember 
 what he answered, but I could not help being 
 reassured by his very kind and natural manner, 
 and I was so convinced of his honesty that, until 
 the end of the sitting, I never once more doubted 
 of the genuineness of the manifestations. 
 
 After a few minutes more, he took up a slate 
 that was lying on the table, he put it in my 
 hand, and made me wash it well with a sponge 
 on both sides, then he broke a little slate pencil 
 with his teeth, and placed a very small little bit 
 under the slate, so small, indeed, that it could 
 easily move between the table and the slate, 
 which was just a little raised by its wooden 
 frame. He placed the slate upon the table, and I 
 put my hand upon it. I could plainly see both 
 Dr Slade's hands upon the table ; presently I 
 began to hear and to feel the vibrations caused 
 by the little piece of pencil moving under the 
 slate as if it were writing upon it. I lifted it up 
 when the writing ceased, an,d to my great 
 surprise, I saw distinctly written in white upon the 
 black surface of the slate, the words " Concepcion 
 Vargas.'^
 
 40 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I could not contain a cry of wonder ; there, 
 before my very eyes, was the sweet name which 
 my wife had borne ! Who had written it ? 
 Surely not I, I had not moved my hands, and 
 he, the medium, had not moved either, besides 
 how could he have known her name ? He did 
 not know mine, for I had been very careful not 
 to tell him who I was, but even if he had heard 
 it, how did he know my wife's name ? 
 
 I could not believe it, and yet there it was in 
 black and white, and I held it in my trembling 
 hand, fearing every moment, I must confess, it 
 would vanish as it had come. 
 
 Doctor Slade took the slate from me, and made 
 me clean it with the wet sponge, effacing all 
 traces of those words, then he placed it again 
 upon the table with the pencil underneath as it 
 had been before. 
 
 "Do you know the spirit?" he said to 
 
 me. 
 
 I was determined not to give him any clue as 
 to the relation between us, so I said, carelessly, 
 '' I think I do ; it must be a Spanish lady I met 
 once in Seville." 
 
 No more words passed between us. He 
 remained in his seat, and I placed my hand again 
 upon the slate while the little pencil was writing 
 underneath. I was quite anxious to see what was 
 being written, but I did not dare to lift up the 
 slate ; after ten minutes of suspense, the table gave
 
 PART THE FIRST, 41 
 
 three raps. " It is the signal," said Dr Slacle, 
 " the spirits have finished." 
 
 I again lifted up the slate and found it 
 covered all over with ^Titing. Dr Slade took it 
 first, but said he could not read it as it was in a 
 foreign language, which he did not know — Italian 
 he said. 
 
 I took it, it was in Spanish, the beautifid 
 hmguage of my wife. My agitation and my 
 intense surprise can better be imagined than 
 described. 
 
 I will try to translate this communication as 
 well as I can, for it was the first I ever received 
 from my angel wife ; but I fear it will lose much 
 by being rendered into English. 
 
 "My own husband, my beloved Walter, — 
 Cans't thou thus weep because thy love has 
 entered a brighter sphere ? Oh, Walter, how 
 cans't thou be so sad when I am happy, thou 
 too who didst first teach me not to fear death ; 
 death ! what would life be without death ? a 
 worm never to become a butterfly ! a dream of 
 happiness never to be realised ! 
 
 " And yet thou seest nought but the sad part 
 of it, thou only seest the flower fading away 
 before its time as it seems to thee .... and 
 dost not perceive that it has gone to bloom in a 
 glorious sunshine. Oh ! Walter, try to look be- 
 yond the tomb, you will see there is no sorrow in 
 death, there should Ije joy ; but in spite of all
 
 42 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tliy philosopliy thou still entertainest doubts as to 
 the future existence which awaits thee on this 
 side of the grave. 
 
 *'In thy tearful blindness thou hast thought 
 the magnetic chain that bound us was severed, 
 but it is not so, dear husband ; that chain 
 was fashioned by more than human hands, and 
 not a link has broken or can ever break that 
 binds my soul to thine. 
 
 " Try rather to see that a new link has been 
 added, a link between thy world and the next — a 
 link to bind thee nearer to God, because it will 
 raise thy heart often to brighter spheres. 
 
 " Wouldst thou change the purposes of God ? 
 I left the world when my time had come, I. 
 left it to give birth to our child, the child whom 
 thou hast neglected, the child whom thou hast 
 deprived of a Father ! And thou sayest still that 
 thou lovest me ! Oh Walter ! I could never have 
 believed this of thee. Ah ! turn not thine eyes 
 from our babe, see in him rather the sacred charge 
 of thy wife whom thou thinkest gone. Yes, I am 
 gone from thy sight, but not into another world. 
 I am still by thy side, and shall constantly watch 
 over thee until the day in which thou wilt join 
 me here. 
 
 "Hast thou never felt a soft touch on the 
 cheek, a gentle waving of the hair, a breath of 
 tender sweetness on the brow? It was mine, 
 oh ! my husband ; it was I who touched thee ; I,
 
 PART THE FIRST. . 43 
 
 who seldom stir from tliy side. In tlie middle of 
 the ocean, on the heights of the White Mountains, 
 in the desert prairies, under the falls of Niagara, I 
 have been with thee. Were I still upon thy 
 earth, I could not follow thee nearer than I now 
 do. And yet thou still complainest ! 
 
 '^ Oh ! believe me, Walter, there is no sorrow 
 in death — there should be joy. 
 
 '* Think of me often, but with pleasure, not 
 with tears in thine eyes, and mom^ning in thy 
 heart. Think of our earthly love so soon now to 
 become divine, think of our rambles in Scotland, 
 when I was the disciple and thou the master, — 
 where thou didst first open my eyes to the light 
 of truth that now floods my spirit. Think of all 
 this, Walter. Thought unites our souls." 
 
 When I had finished the perusal of this com- 
 munication, my eyes were full of tears. Could 
 it have been my Conchita, my wife who had 
 written this upon the slate ? Dr Slade had not 
 touched it since the moment it was put upon the 
 table after havinof been thorouo^hlv cleaned and 
 washed by my own hands, besides he said, he 
 did not know Spanish, and at all events he could 
 not have known my Christian name, or that of my 
 wife. Who then had written this communication ? 
 
 I could not doubt my senses, and yet it seemed 
 too wonderful to be true. I could scarcely bring 
 myseK to believe that it was my Conchita, 
 my long mourned wife, who had thus come to
 
 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 mc tlirough a stranger, by means of a paid 
 medium in a foreign land beyond the seas, to 
 console me and dry my tears. After all, why 
 should not Dr Slade know Spanish ? Conchita 
 surely is not the only one who can write in that 
 language ; this could then be no proof, besides 
 the languao:e in which the communication was 
 expressed was not in the least like the language 
 she would have iised to me when on earth, but 
 then I must take into consideration that she is no 
 longer a material being, as she was then. But 
 then, I thought, how could Dr Slade have written 
 on the reverse side of the slate, when his hands 
 were in sight on the table. 
 
 One thing struck me in this long writing, and 
 that was the mention made of my little child. 
 The writer was evidently displeased with my 
 conduct towards him, — who but the mother could 
 feel so deeply for a new-born babe ? I felt all 
 this as I sat there with my eyes fixed upon the 
 slate, and the thought struck me, for the first time, 
 that I had perhaps done wrong in abandoning 
 my child, her child to the care of servants. 
 
 The doctor saw how moved I was by the 
 writing, "direct spirit writing," as he called it, 
 and told me that I was a medium myself, and 
 that in a few months I would not require his or 
 any one else's services, but that I should be able 
 to obtain communications from the spirit Avorld 
 unaided.
 
 PART THE FIRST, 45 
 
 I asked him what constituted a medium. This 
 he could not tell me precisely. " It is a magnetic 
 power allotted to some, by means of which the 
 spirits of the departed can hold communication 
 Tvdth those they have left on earth, a sort of 
 bridge between this world and the next, what it 
 consists of I cannot tell. I am a medium and so 
 will you be in time, but farther I cannot tell you." 
 
 I tried to conceal my doubts from him, he was 
 so earnest about it, and he kindly invited me to 
 go the next day in the evening and sit for the 
 " materialisations," as he called them, or spirit 
 forms, which he said we might, perhaps, succeed 
 in obtaining. 
 
 So I departed from the doctor's house full of 
 hope, and yet misgivings, a new sensation had 
 taken possession of my being. Could it be 
 possible that Conchita was still by my side ? I 
 dared not think so, yet I would have given any- 
 thing to be convinced of the fact.
 
 VI. 
 
 "Sera acaso verdad? Hay otros seres 
 En otros nrnndos de eterna ventura, 
 De que sou debil copia los placeres 
 De esta vida de misera amargura ? 
 No es ensueno de Candidas mugeres 
 Esa grata esperanza de dulzura? 
 Porque la eternidad esta vedada 
 En el foudo insondable de la nada ? " 
 
 Fernandez y Gonzales. 
 
 I COULD not sleep that night. I was burning 
 with excitement. I got up very early and took 
 a sledge drive through the Central Park, that 
 beautiful artificial garden which forms the centre 
 of the island, and of which New York is so 
 proud. 
 
 The morning was exceedingly cold, but clear 
 and fine ; the sky was blue above my head, and 
 the sun shone brightly upon the snow-covered 
 trees, forming a thousand different diamond-like 
 sparks to glitter and sparkle on the hoar frost of 
 the early morning. 
 
 The Park was deserted, not another sledge was 
 visible upon the extensive trotting-ground or the 
 boulevard beyond, nothing but snow everywhere, 
 dazzling the eyes with its pure whiteness against
 
 PART THE FIRST. 47 
 
 the dark blue sky above ; the lakes, generally so 
 full of skaters, were also deserted at this early 
 hour. 
 
 As I galloped along alone in my light sledge 
 well-covered with furs, my thoughts were naturally 
 drawn towards the strange phenomena of the pre- 
 ceding day. 
 
 " Can it be possible," I said to myself, '' that 
 this park, apparently so empty, may be full of 
 invisible beings who can watch over me, and yet 
 whose presence I ignore, or knowing cannot per- 
 ceive ? 
 
 '' Yet why should it not be so ? We cannot 
 see electricity, and yet we know it exists. Again, 
 if we put a piece of sugar into a glass of water, 
 and let it melt, we lose sight of it. I cannot see 
 the sugar, and the water is as clear as it was be- 
 fore I put the sugar into it. Yef the sugar is 
 there still, although invisible to my eyes." 
 
 A thousand equally common occurrences which 
 we witness every day, and therefore think nothing 
 of, rushed through my mind. 
 
 " If I throw a silver coin into a basin full of 
 nitric acid or aqua-fortis, does not the silver dis- 
 appear entirely from my sight 1 And the liquid, 
 does it not remain as clear as before ? The silver 
 becomes invisible. Why \ We cannot tell, but 
 we cannot doubt the fact. 
 
 " Could we not, then, compare the piece of 
 silver to a spirit which disappears from our sight
 
 48 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 iit the death of the material form that con- 
 tained it ? 
 
 " The silver is still in the basin, though in- 
 visible ; there is also the nitric acid as before, 
 and some chemist might tell me that he could 
 get out the silver by introducing electricity into 
 the acid, for which the silver has a strong affinity. 
 
 " Can that singular power called mediumsliip 
 be something of this kind ? That extraordinary 
 faculty, which Dr Slade could not explain, and 
 by means of which the invisible spirits of the 
 departed are able to convince us of their con- 
 tinued existence, may it not resemble, at least in 
 its secret power, the electricity which the chemist 
 assures us has such an affinity for silver, that it 
 can call it back again to our sight 1 
 
 " Electricity ! affinity ! What are they ? Can 
 any one tell ? 
 
 "We are still so ignorant that we are com- 
 pelled to use words the true meaning of which 
 we ignore." 
 
 My thoughts wandering in this direction, took 
 presently another form, as I thought of the hun- 
 dreds of invisible things and forces which surround 
 us, of which we are conscious, but which, how- 
 . ever, we cannot see with our imperfect and limited 
 vision. I concluded that it might very well be 
 that there are other beings upon the very earth 
 we inhabit of whose existence we are totally ignor- 
 ant, whose attributes may be so diflferent to ours
 
 PART THE FIRST. 49 
 
 that we cannot perceive them with our, as yet, 
 only partially developed and most limited senses. 
 For who can say positively that the five senses 
 belonging to human beings are the only possible 
 senses that exist in this universe of which we 
 know so little ? The same as a blind man could 
 not understand the sensation of sight, had he 
 never possessed it, there may very well be other 
 senses which we cannot comprehend, and which 
 may yet very possibly exist very near us ; so 
 that many things may take place in nature which, 
 not being in correspondence with our organisa- 
 tions, must remain for ever ignored by us, or at 
 least so long as our spirit, or interior being, is 
 confined in our present organisation, for our per- 
 ceptions must be limited to its capabilities. 
 
 " But," I said to myself, " do not the senses 
 we possess suffice to hint to us the possible 
 existence of other senses, not only different from 
 ours, but most likely far more powerful and 
 useful % 
 
 "We must all admit, I think, that we are as 
 yet ignorant of most things belonging even to 
 our own sphere, and that outside of the im- 
 pressions we receive, there may be an infinite 
 number of others which we cannot perceive. I 
 will explain myself. 
 
 " Sound is formed, we are told, by certain 
 imdulations which take place lq the air, and 
 which come to strike the membrane of our 
 
 D
 
 so THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tympanum, and thus give us the impression of 
 different sounds. Man cannot possibly hear all 
 sounds. When the undulations are too slow (under 
 40 per second), the sound is too low, our ear can- 
 not catch it. When the undulations are too 
 rapid (above 36,850 per second), the sound is too 
 loud, our ear cannot appreciate it. Under and 
 above these two limits of our audative organisa- 
 tion, innumerable sounds might exist of which 
 we know nothing. 
 
 *'The same reasoning may be also applied to 
 light. According to Descartes' theory, light 
 proceeds from undulations in the ether of the 
 universe (the undulatory theory is now, I believe, 
 in full favour with all scientific men). The 
 different aspects of light, the shades and the 
 colours of objects, are due to undulations which 
 strike our optic nerve, and thus give us the 
 different impressions of light and darkness. Man 
 cannot possibly see all that which is visible. 
 When these undulations are too slow (under 458 
 trillions per second, light is too feeble ; our eye 
 cannot perceive it. When the undulations are 
 too rapid (above 727 trillions per second), light 
 surpasses our organic faculty of perception, and 
 becomes invisible for us. Above and below these 
 two narrow limits, thousands of colours may 
 exist which we cannot see. So I think that we 
 are most reasonably and philosophically justified 
 in asserting that there may exist beings in this
 
 PART THE FIRST. 51 
 
 very world, by our very sides, wliicli we can 
 neither hear nor see, for innumerable undulations 
 there are in nature which, not being in corres- 
 pondence with our organisation, must necessarily 
 remain ignored by us. 
 
 "Whether these beings may, by means of 
 certain extraordinary conditions, ever become 
 visible and audible to us, is a question I cannot 
 answer. 
 
 " And yet," I exclaimed, " did not our fore- 
 fathers believe in the possibility of spiiit 
 apparitions ? 
 
 "All the old Bibles of the Ancients attest this, the 
 Vedas, the Eddas, the Zend-Avesta, the Koran, are 
 full of spiritual visions and apparitions of angels. 
 Almost all the ancient philosophers also believed 
 in them, and even our own Bible is full of 
 accounts of such supernatural visitors. 
 
 " Was it not an angel that appeared to Moses in 
 the burning bush, and sent him on his work to 
 deliver the Israelites from Egypt ? It was 
 angels that gave Moses the law on the Mount 
 Sinai. In Joshua's war an angel appeared, and 
 professed himself to be the captain of the Lord's 
 hosts. It was an angel that chose a wife for 
 Isaac, an angel delivered the three men from the 
 fire, and Daniel from the lions' den. Angels 
 preached Christ to the shepherds ; an angel 
 preached to Cornelius ; an angel delivered Peter 
 and Paul. St John tells us that God first .^ 
 
 S^'^"' v>**
 
 52 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 revealed His will to Christ, Christ to the angels, 
 the angels to him, he to the churches, and the 
 churches to posterity. Angels even ministered 
 to Christ Himself when He was hungry, and 
 appeared in His agony strengthening Him. 
 
 "Can we call ourselves Christians, and yet 
 doubt the possibility of spirit communication, 
 when the Bible upon which our faith is based, 
 bears such strong testimony to the fact. 
 
 *' It is true that all this happened long ago, but if 
 spirits could appear then, why should they not 
 appear now ? the conditions of the earth have 
 not changed. 
 
 " Besides our church teaches us to believe in an 
 infinity of other apparitions of a much more 
 recent date. If the saints received visits from 
 beings of another sphere, why should we not be 
 able to receive them also ? Have we not the 
 assertion of St Augustine, who wrote, 'I am 
 convinced that my mother will come again to 
 visit me and to give me advice, by revealing to 
 me what awaits us in the future life ? ' 
 
 " Many persons seem to think that it is wrong to 
 hold communication with those who have left 
 their earthly bodies ; but did not St Augustine, 
 Santa Theresa, St Thomas, St Ignatius of 
 Loyola, and a thousand others hold these com- 
 munications, and yet no one has ever blamed 
 them for doing so ? " 
 
 The phases of modern spiritualism may per-
 
 PART THE FIRST. 53 
 
 chance not be quite so holy as those visions of the 
 saints, but must they be less real for this ? and after 
 all they are holy, when it is a mother, a sister, a 
 wife who comes to console a broken heart. 
 
 I cannot yet say that 1 believe, and yet 
 I am convinced that "no fact in sacred or 
 profane history is supported by a stronger 
 array of proofs.'' 
 
 Can it be possible, I thought, that millions of 
 people should believe this, if after all, the wonder- 
 ful phenomena upon which their faith is based 
 are only produced by more or less ingenious 
 machinery and clever leger-demain 1 And it is 
 not only the ignorant and uneducated crowd that 
 believes in seances and in mediums, some of the 
 wisest and first men of France, Italy, Spain, 
 England and America believe in them, and pro- 
 fess to hold communications with the dead. 
 
 Some years ago the London Dialectical Society, 
 under the presidency of Sir John Lubbock, Bart., 
 M.P., appointed a committee to investigate 
 spiritual phenomena. The committee was 
 appointed on the 26th of February 1869, and 
 after investigations and researches which lasted 
 two years, it issued its report, which, with the 
 evidence, forms a bulky volume. This committee 
 was formed of some of the greatest men of science 
 of the day, and its report was as follows : 
 
 1. That sounds of a very varied character, 
 apparently proceeding from articles of furniture,
 
 54 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 the floor and walls of the room — the vibrations 
 accompanying which sounds are often distinctly 
 perceptible to the touch — occur, without being 
 produced by muscular action or mechanical 
 contrivance. 
 
 2. That movements of heavy bodies take place 
 without mechanical contrivance of any kind, or 
 adequate exertion of muscular force by those 
 j)resent, and frequently without contact or connec- 
 tion with any person. 
 
 3. That these sounds and movements often 
 occur at the time, and in the manner asked for 
 l)y persons present, and by means of a simple 
 code of signals answer questions and spell out 
 coherent communications. 
 
 One of the sub- committees of the Dialectical 
 Society reported : — '* Your committee studiously 
 avoided the employment of professional or paid 
 mediums. All were members of the committee, 
 persons of social position, of unimpeachable 
 integrity, with no pecuniary object, having 
 nothing to gain by deception, and everything to 
 lose by detection of imposture." 
 
 Such was the concise report of that body of 
 intelligent and unprejudiced men, who so 
 earnestly devoted themselves for the space of two 
 years to the discovery of the truth. Since then, 
 Mr Crookes has published some interesting papers 
 in the Quarterly Journal of Science y of which 
 he is the editor ; and Mr Alfred E. Wallace, the
 
 PART THE FIRST 55 
 
 well-known originator of the ''Natural Selection " 
 theory, has also written a magnificent article in 
 the Fortnightly Eevieiv, under the head of "A 
 Defence of Modern Spiritualism," which furnish 
 us with ample proofs of their firm belief in the 
 genuineness of these strange phenomena. 
 
 All this is really most bewildering, for after all, 
 as Mr Crookes says in one of his able papers, — 
 
 " The supposition that there is a sort of mania 
 or delusion which suddenly attacks a whole room 
 full of intelligent persons who are quite sane 
 elsewhere, and that they all concm^ to the 
 minutest particulars, in the details of the occur- 
 rences of w:hich they suppose themselves to be 
 witnesses, seems to my mind more incredible 
 than even the facts they attest." * 
 
 And thus I passed the whole day arguing 
 against myself. I wanted to believe, and yet 
 dared not venture to do so, fearing to nurse a 
 joyous hope of which perhaps time and common 
 sense might afterwards deprive me, by convincing 
 me that after all, all these wonderful phenomena 
 wliich have, until now, baffled the greatest men 
 of science of this age of enlightenment, are but 
 an illusion of the senses. 
 
 * W. Crookes, F.R.S., Quarterly Journal 0/ Science, Xo. XLI.
 
 VII. 
 
 " With a slow and noiseless footstep 
 Comes that messenger divine, 
 Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
 Lays her gentle hand on mine. 
 
 " And she sits and gazes at me 
 
 With those deep and tender eyes 
 Like the stars, so still and saint-like ; 
 Looking downwards from the skies." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 It was about eight o'clock in the evening when 1 
 again entered Dr Slade's house. I was strongly 
 moved as I ascended the stairs, and could hardly 
 conceal my excitement. 
 
 We entered the seance-room and sat at tlie 
 table as we had done the day before, I at the top 
 and he at the side on my left hand, my feet 
 resting as then upon his, by his express desire. 
 
 We sat in silence for nearly a quarter of an 
 hour, at the end of which time raps came on tlie 
 table. The room was well lighted, for a large five- 
 light gasalier hung from the ceiling, three of whose 
 burners threw a good light all around the small 
 apartment. 
 
 The doctor asked the spirits if they could
 
 PART THE FIRST 57 
 
 manifest, upon which the physical manifestations 
 began. The table heaved up and down, and 
 was made heavy or light at my desire. A chair 
 moved from the wall, drawn by some unseen 
 agency, an accordion was played in mid-air, 
 apparently all by itself, and cj^uite unsupported by 
 any visible hand, and several other wonderful 
 things took place, all in the bright light of the 
 three jets of gas. 
 
 But I must confess that all those wonders pro- 
 duced very little effect upon me, perhaps l3ecause 
 I had gone prepared to doubt everything, perhaps 
 because they seemed to me so very puerile and 
 unmeaning ; and after all, I had seen much more 
 wonderful and impossible things done by legerde- 
 main. The doctor wondered very much that I 
 was not convinced by such extraordinary tours 
 deforce, and assured me that the spirits could do 
 anything for me, for the conditions were perfect. 
 
 " You promised me," I said, '^ that you would 
 try to show me the spirit forms ; do you think 
 that you will be able to do so ? " 
 
 " I do not know," he answered. " It does not 
 depend upon me, but I can tiy." Thus saying, 
 he put two of the gas-lights out, leaving only one, 
 which, however, was quite enough to light the 
 room, although this one he also lowered. But 
 previous to doing so he opened a small closet, 
 situated in the corner farthest away from the 
 table, and got out of it a small curtain of black
 
 58 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 calico, with a square hole in the centre, of about 
 a foot square ; the curtain or calico was of about 
 three feet in diameter measured each way. This he 
 hung with a small string across the room, just 
 before one end of the table, but a little above it, 
 so that I could just see the light all round it. 
 
 Having finished these preparations he sat down 
 again by my side to await the result. 
 
 " How is it," I asked him, " that you need that 
 black veil ? Could the spirits not come without 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, they have done so, but it is always 
 better to have somethino- Avith a hole throuo^h 
 which they can show themselves, as it saves them 
 the trouble of materialising their whole form. 
 Most mediums have a regular cabinet made of 
 wood, inside which they are tied, but I find that 
 this little curtain answers the purpose equally 
 Avell, and does not lead to so much suspicion." 
 
 *' I often wonder, doctor, why it is that spirits 
 always tap on tables and chairs. Why should 
 they not also rap, and knock, and move about 
 other things ? " 
 
 '^ What other things'?" he said. "Of course 
 they could do it ; but are not tables and chairs 
 the objects mostly to be found in drawing-rooms 
 and dining-rooms ? They take what they find 
 nearest at hand ; in the open air they will rap on 
 a gate or a tree." 
 
 I said no more for fear of spoiling the seance,
 
 PART THE FIRST. 59 
 
 and contented myself by holding his hands tightly 
 in mine, while my feet rested upon his. 
 
 Another quarter of an hour passed, during 
 which time the piece of pencil wrote, as it had 
 done the day before, all by itself (at least so it 
 seemed to me), upon the slate. 
 
 '' I will try to show myself if I am able," it 
 first wrote. Then, after a time, 
 
 " You are too excited, Walter. I find it very 
 difficult to conmiunicate," and this was signed 
 " ConcldtcL' 
 
 At last : '' / ivill do my best to-night, my clear 
 Imshandj hut you must not expect too much, I 
 would advise you not to luaste your poiver by 
 sitting just now. In a few months I ivill be 
 better able to appear to you, and perhaps ivith- 
 out the aid of any other medium; at present I 
 ca.nnot. But do not think that I ivill leave you 
 in the meantime. Remember that I am always 
 by your side. Wlien you ivant me I icill come. 
 This ivill be my sign.'' And then I felt the pres- 
 sure of a cold kiss upon my brow. I looked 
 round and saw nothino; near me : the doctor had 
 not moved and was looking another way. 
 
 The ciuiain before us beo-an now to move a 
 little. I kept my eyes fixed upon the opening in 
 it. A misty haze began slowly to form, as it 
 were, on the inner side of it. It was about the 
 size of a person's head, and became gradually 
 whiter.
 
 €0 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 It grew more and more distinct, and it seemed 
 to come gradually nearer to the opening. After a 
 few minutes I could distinctly perceive a female 
 face, but alas I it might have been the face of any 
 woman. I could discover nothing in it which 
 reminded me of the beloved countenance of my 
 lost Conchita. 
 
 Light seemed to proceed from this apparition, 
 it seemed so luminous that suddenly the thought 
 struck me that if I were to put out the gas I 
 could see it more distinctly. I made this sug- 
 gestion to Dr Slade ; he shuddered and warmly 
 opposed it. It was easy to see that he disliked 
 the idea of darkness. But my curiosity was so 
 great that all of a sudden I rose from my chair 
 and deliberately extinguished the light. Dr 
 Slade gave a wild cry of alarm when he sud- 
 denly found himself in total darkness. 
 
 I kept my eyes steadily fixed upon the white 
 figure before me ; in that supreme moment of 
 anxiety I felt no fear. Not so, however, the 
 Medium ; there was no longer any occasion for 
 me to retain my hold upon his hand, for in his 
 alarm he was grasping min(^ till he almost hurt 
 me with his convulsive clutch. 
 
 The apparition now became more and more 
 luminous and distinct, but still I could not recog- 
 nise the face. I could no longer distinguish the 
 black curtain in the darkness, and saw nothing 
 but the white misty form, which, however, cer-
 
 FART THE FIRST. 6i 
 
 toinly had nothing to me alarming in its appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Presently the whole figure came out of the 
 mist and moved towards me, to my very side. 
 As I gazed at it with such an intensity that all 
 my senses seemed concentrated in that gaze, it 
 suddenly seemed to expand, if I may so describe 
 it, — it intensified, and flashed out for one moment 
 before me, — and then I recoornised mv lost wife ! 
 Yes, it was Conchita ! my angel, my darling I I 
 could doubt no longer. She stood before me 
 for one moment, radiantly beautiful ; her fair face 
 illumined by no earthly light, but as if bright 
 by her oa\ti purity, as we can imagine would 
 be that of an angel of light ! 
 
 I could not describe her dress, so instantaneous 
 was her appearance. I only saw that it was white 
 and dazzling, and that her beautiful golden cmis 
 encircled her fair head as ^ith a glory, while 
 some of her brig-ht curls hunoj over her bosom. 
 
 The beautiful vision stretched out her arms 
 towards me ; at that moment I felt, — not a 
 touch, but rather the sensation of an electric 
 shock run through my frame, and I fell senseless 
 upon the floor. 
 
 "When I recovered my senses I found myself 
 lying upon a sofa in the front room. Dr Slade 
 was by my side, looking pale and agitated, and 
 was bathing my temples with eau-de-Cologne.
 
 62 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I soon recovered myself, and was able to talk. 
 I asked for an explanation, but he could give me 
 none. As soon as I put out the gas he said, that 
 he closed his eyes, not daring to look upon a spirit 
 in the dark ; that when I fell, he rushed from the 
 room and returned with a lio^hted candle. He 
 then found that I had fainted, and he added, " It 
 was very rash of you to put out the light ; I never 
 dare do it, it is too dangerous." 
 
 I went back to the stance room, and what was 
 my astonishment when I found there, lying on 
 the ground in the same place where I had fainted, 
 a small curl of golden hair ! 
 
 It was no dream then, the fair vision that had 
 appeared to me was no hallucination of my 
 agitated brain. The piece of hair was in my 
 hand ; I could not now doubt the truth of what 
 I had seen. 
 
 But was it really Conchita ? I could not tell. 
 I had thought so at the time, but now I again 
 began to doubt. Everything in the room looked 
 so common-place, so matter-of-fact, that it seemed 
 impossible that the spirit of an angel could ever 
 have entered it. 
 
 The Doctor could give me no explanation of 
 the curl, so I put the golden ringlet into my 
 pocket-book, and thanking him warmly for this 
 extraordinary seance, for which he would take no 
 fee, as he said he had invited me to it, I left 
 the house.
 
 PART THE FIRST, 6^ 
 
 And thus finished the few experiences I have 
 €ver had of mediums, seances, and spirit-rapping, 
 for the events which shortly followed these pheno- 
 mena rendered all these things useless to me for 
 the future. 
 
 [Note. — The apparition described in the preceding chapter is 
 not imaginary, but was really witnessed exactly in the nianner re- 
 lated by the author, at the house of Dr Slade, 143d Street, Xe^v 
 York.]
 
 VIII. 
 
 " Se a ciascuno rinterno affanno 
 Si leggesse in fronte scritto, 
 Quanti mai che invidia fanno 
 Ci farebbeno pieta." 
 
 Metastasio. 
 
 Shortly after the events recorded in the last, 
 chapter, I left New York for Washington, where 
 I had some business with our minister, Sir Garnet 
 Howard. 
 
 The Americans call their capital " the city of 
 magnificent distances," but I should be incHned 
 to call it " the city of magnificent projects." 
 Washington is certainly a town of the future. 
 The streets are wide and straight, but the houses 
 are far apart. Here and there a grand public 
 building rises in all the pride of its gorgeous 
 marbles, and magnificent colonnades and statues, 
 from amidst green fields and modest little cottages. 
 Here — as in all other towns throughout the States 
 — the streets are numbered and designed long 
 before they possess a single habitation. A few 
 little shops, here of course dignified by the name 
 of stores, decorate some of the streets, which are 
 mostly planted with trees, through which are
 
 PART THE FIRST, 65 
 
 visible at intervals a few country houses painted 
 white, witli red roofs and green shutters, and 
 almost all encased with wood, which gives them 
 that appearance peculiar to American country 
 houses. 
 
 Such is Washington, the capital of the United 
 States, — its principal streets resembling the out- 
 skirts of a great city, rather than the capital of 
 one of the greatest nations of the world. The 
 similarity is indeed so great, that when once one 
 begins to institute the comparison, it is recalled 
 to one's mind at every tm-n. One is always ex- 
 pecting to enter the real city, which one imagines 
 must lie somewhere beyond these long wandering 
 suburbs. It was well described by a lady some 
 thirty years ago as "a great wide rambling red- 
 brick image of futurity, where nothing is, but 
 everything is to be." And it is still " to he" for 
 the Americans themselves allow that it scarcely is ; 
 and the only difference I would note is, that the 
 red brick is now the exception, having been super- 
 seded by more sightly edifices of white stone, or 
 of what would represent it. 
 
 Many large and important cities in this go- 
 a-head country have sprung up and prospered on 
 spots where large forests stood, and have become 
 great, busy, important centres of life and com- 
 merce, since the description of Washington flowed 
 from that facile pen, but its reputation as a city is 
 still in the future, for it is still wide and rambling 
 
 E
 
 66 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 with large spaces between its buildings — ^no doubt 
 to be filled up with handsome edifices when the 
 present inhabitants lie mouldering in the dust. 
 The reason of this anomaly amidst such a busy, 
 town-constructing, energetic people as the Ameri- 
 cans, is no doubt to be found in the fact, that 
 Washington can never become a great commer- 
 cial centre, and that the energetic minds of the 
 energetic men who come to it year after year, 
 are too wholly absorbed by, and devoted to the 
 public weal, for which they daily exert their 
 talents and great oratorical powers in the Senate 
 and Congress, to the exclusion of every thought of 
 building, even of log huts and grand hotels. And 
 yet these exist in Washington, and are crowded to 
 overflowing when Congress is sitting, and ofttimes 
 people have been obliged to sleep in the Elevator, 
 or Lift, if they would recline at all. When not 
 overcrowded, however, the hotels of Washing- 
 ton possess every comfort and luxury — as where 
 do they not in this model land of modern com- 
 forts ? Indeed, I must say that, go where he will 
 in the United States, the traveller is sure to find 
 not only a good bed, but a more truly comfortable 
 and luxurious one than he will find anywhere in 
 England, I might say anywhere irt all Europe ; 
 and I should be correct, were it not that French 
 beds have probably served for the model of the 
 modern American couch of comfort. After this 
 well-deserved tribute to American hotel accom-
 
 PART THE FIRST. 67 
 
 modation, I will continue my ramble through this 
 rambling city. 
 
 The public buildings of Washington are truly 
 beautiful, particularly the Capitol, which I believe 
 is the largest buildino^ of white marble in the 
 world, and which rises above the city to a con- 
 siderable height upon an imposing eminence. The 
 Post-Office, the Patent Office and the Treasury, 
 three mao^nificent structures also in white marble, 
 should not pass unnoticed. 
 
 All these buildings are much more splendid 
 than those which fulfil the same destiny in the 
 European capitals. But Washington is rich in 
 monuments. The Smithsonian Institute, the 
 White House, the City Hall, and all its numerous 
 museums and exhibitions, are fine, and possess 
 the greatest architectural beauties ; and if public 
 buildinors could make a town, Washins^ton would 
 undoubtedly be one of the handsomest cities on 
 the face of the earth. 
 
 My stay there was not a very long one, but I 
 could not pass through it without this slight 
 mention, as it was there I first met Lilian Leigh, 
 the beautiful American lady who was destined to 
 play such an important part in my after life, even 
 after I had quitted the States. 
 
 Lilian Leigh was an American by birth, and 
 like all the daughters of her country, beautiful 
 and accomplished in the utmost degree. I tnoQ 
 not attempt to describe her, for I fear that my
 
 6S THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 pen could never do justice to her beauty. Suffice 
 it to say that she was neither a brunette nor a 
 blonde ; that she was tall and graceful, her figure 
 being slight and flexible ; and that she had that 
 indescribable something which makes most Ameri- 
 can women so charming in the eyes of men. 
 
 But in spite of all her fascinations, the beauti- 
 ful American was far from bearing any compari- 
 son with the high-souled and noble-minded wife 
 I had so recently lost. My readers must not 
 accuse me of infidelity to the memory of my 
 angel Conchita, when I thus describe the im- 
 pression first made upon me by the American 
 beauty. I still loved my lost Conchita above all 
 earthly things, but Conchita no longer belonged to 
 earth ; she had returned home to the heaven from 
 whence she had come to bless me for a few short 
 years, and to give me a foretaste of what heaven 
 might be ; and Lilian Leigh was thrown con- 
 stantly in my path, and was the only person with 
 whom I had conversed with any degree of plea- 
 sure since my sad bereavement. 
 
 In spite of all the wonderful phenomena I had 
 witnessed in New York, I still could not bring 
 myself to believe entirely in the possibility of 
 spirit communication. The time that had elapsed 
 had efiaced the vivid impressions which had so 
 startled and bewildered me at the time ; and the 
 idea that I had only made myself the subject of 
 ridicule by seeking to communicate with the
 
 PART THE FIRST. 69 
 
 spirit of my dead wife, was an idee fixe in my 
 mind. All my 'friends had laughed at what they 
 called my folly and delusion, and talked of 
 hidden machinery and clever cheating, till I 
 almost began to think I had been duped — I will 
 not say robbed of my money, as my good friends 
 assured me I had been — because I must do Dr 
 Slade the justice to say, that he had most kindly 
 invited me of his own accord, the night I beheld 
 the wonderful apparition, and I was therefore 
 sure that he had had no mercenary motive in 
 deceiving me. 
 
 Only too happy to try and forget my sorrows 
 in excitement of some kind, it came to pass that 
 I had plunged for one moment into the whirlpool 
 of society as soon as I arrived in Washington. 
 Accepting one invitation had rendered it im- 
 possible to refuse another, and at the very first 
 I had made the acquaintance of Lady Leigh. 
 
 Lady Howard — the amiable wife of our 
 minister — had introduced me to her at the 
 Embassy, where she was staying on a ^dsit. 
 
 I there learnt her romantic and sad history, 
 which added a great deal to her attraction; 
 and I am sure no one could have passed a day 
 near this beautiful and unfortunate woman mth- 
 out some feeling of interest and affection being 
 awakened for her in his heart — even were that 
 heart, like mine, devoted wholly to the memory 
 of another.
 
 70 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 She was tlie daughter of a very rich planter 
 from Louisiana ; while quite a young girl, she 
 had been sent to live with her aunt in Paris — 
 an American lady, the wife of a great banker in 
 that city — this accounted for her refined and 
 almost European manners, and her perfect breed- 
 ing. I saw in a moment that Lady Leigh was a 
 woman of the world, and of the best world ; highly 
 accomplished, accustomed to the best society, in 
 which she had acquired a certain cachet only to 
 be obtained from it ; but her aunt died when she 
 was scarcely twenty, and she had been obliged, in 
 consequence, to return to America, though she 
 had lost her mother some years before this, and 
 so her father, who did not care to take his 
 beautiful daughter to his distant estate in the 
 south, purchased a house in New York, where he 
 settled down with her for its mistress. 
 
 Their residence in New York, however, was not 
 a very long one. Sir George Leigh, a young 
 Englishman, who had just come over as secretary 
 to the British Legation, fell in love with the 
 American belle, and her millions, and soon after 
 married her, thus carrying off the prize from 
 many rivals. 
 
 I believe from what I learnt in the course of 
 conversation from her friends, that there had 
 been little or no love in the match. He was a 
 delicate, fair-complexioned young Englishman, of 
 good family, but poor ; he wanted energy, life,
 
 PART THE FIRST. 71 
 
 experience of the world, and was besides very 
 delicate in health. 
 
 People whispered that he was in a consump- 
 tion when he married her ; whilst she was a 
 gay, bright, beautiful woman, full of life and 
 spirit, with many talents and accomplishments ; 
 blooming with youth and health, and quite a 
 woman of the world, as I have before said. But 
 the convenance of the marriage was undoubted, 
 for he had wanted money, and she was not sorry 
 to obtain rank ; if only that of an English 
 baronet's wife. So they married and lived at 
 Washington, as happily as might be for some 
 years. The American war had broken out soon 
 after this, and like so many others, Lilian's father 
 was ruined completely. The cotton plantation 
 which had before been such a mine of wealth to 
 the family, had now gone to utter ruin ; with the 
 loss of the slaves, all the works were stopped, the 
 warehouses were burnt, and the whole place gone 
 to destruction. For such were the sad conse- 
 quences of the war for the unfortunate southern 
 states of the union. 
 
 The poor old man did not long survive the loss 
 of his wealth, and shortly after the sad events 
 of that dreadful war he had died in the arms of 
 his disconsolate daug-hter at her house in 
 Washing-ton. 
 
 The health of her husband. Sir George Leigh, 
 was also failing fast. The anxiety of the last few
 
 72 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 years of the war had been too much for his 
 already delicate constitution, and the doctors 
 said that he would never be able to recover in 
 the cold climate of North America. He was, 
 however, obliged to wait till the end of the long 
 protracted war before he could safely leave the 
 capital for a more genial climate. 
 
 At last the peace was signed, and he was able 
 to quit Washington before the dreaded cold of 
 the coming winter. 
 
 He sailed from New York for the Spanish 
 island of Cuba, where his wife promised to follow 
 him in the next boat. Unavoidable circum- 
 stances, however, prevented her from fulfilling 
 her promise, and more than two months elapsed 
 before she was able to quit her estate in Louisi- 
 ana, where she had been obliged to go after her 
 father's death, to attend to her affairs. 
 
 Sir George had borne the sea voyage well 
 enough, and had arrived safely at Havana, where 
 he was comfortably lodged at one of the best 
 hotels of the place ; but the change of climate, 
 that would have done him so much good, had he 
 been able to make it a few years sooner, only 
 served now to shorten his career. The evil had 
 taken firm hold of him, and the first appearance of 
 relief he had derived from the sea voyage did not 
 continue long after he arrived at the island ; 
 neither its balmy climate nor pure air were able 
 to do the poor young fellow any good. His fate
 
 PART THE FIRST. 73 
 
 was sealed. He must fade away as so many- 
 others have done upon these fair shores of the 
 Gulf of Mexico, a victim to the hard treatment 
 experienced from the severe northern climate, 
 which had been so ill suited to his feeble con- 
 stitution. 
 
 I will relate the rest as she herself told it to 
 me, one afternoon, leaning on my arm with her 
 eyes full of tears, as we paced together the marble 
 galleries of the capitol. 
 
 " AMien my poor dear George first landed on 
 that dreadful island, that was destined to be his 
 grave, and whose climate I fear accelerated his 
 death, whatever the doctors may say to the con- 
 trary, he used to write me every boat. But I 
 am afraid I shall tire you, Lord Carlton, my 
 story is so sad ; ah, so sad ! " and she sighed 
 deeply as she pronounced those last words. 
 
 " Do not think me so unfeelino^, dear Ladv 
 Leigh, as to tire of hearing an account of your 
 sorrows. I assure you that my ot\ti sad story 
 has made my heart more sensitive and compas- 
 sionate to the trials of others ; though I cannot 
 remember a time in my life when I could have 
 been indifferent to a tale of distress," I said, 
 really moved by the tears which stood in her 
 bright blue eyes. 
 
 She looked up, and cast a look of thanks upon 
 me, then leaning anew on my arm she continued, 
 
 " How kind you are. Lord Carlton ; how very
 
 74 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 kind to feel so mucli for me, a poor lonely widow 
 as I am. Ah ! my misfortunes have been great 
 indeed, nobody can tell how I have suffered ; — 
 and I was so young then — although it only hap- 
 pened two years ago," she added quickly, casting 
 another tender look at me through her tears. 
 
 A gentleman came up now. As he approached 
 us in the large marble rotunda, my fair compan- 
 ion stopped him. 
 
 " Ah, Mr Everett, I am so glad to see you. I 
 must compliment you on that beautiful speech ; 
 ah, what a beautiful speech, no other man in the 
 States could have made one like it. . . . When 
 you spoke about the negroes, I thought I should 
 have died with laughter — I understood it all, 
 you wicked man — I was in the diplomatic 
 gallery with Lord Carlton. But I forget, I must 
 introduce you — Lord Carlton — the Honourable 
 Mr Everett, a great friend of mine — we are 
 great friends, are we nof? In spite of your 
 speeches against slavery during the war ; Lord 
 Carlton has only lately crossed the pond, as 
 I believe you call that dreadful ocean I so 
 abominate, and I am doing the honours of our 
 country to him.'' 
 
 Mr Everett, as I afterwards learnt, is a mem- 
 ber of the American Senate, and although a 
 northerner, a great friend of Lady Leigh's, which 
 accounted for her familiarity with him. 
 
 On this occasion, however, he was in a great
 
 PART THE FIRST. 75 
 
 hurry, as he was on his way to dress for an 
 official dinner, as he told us, and after a few 
 commonplace remarks, during which he pointedly 
 asked me how I liked America and the Ameri- 
 cans, he left us once more to ourselves. 
 
 Lady Leigh leant again on my arm, and for 
 some minutes we walked on in silence, making 
 our way as well as we could, through the crowd 
 of senators, representatives, diplomatists, ladies, 
 Indian chiefs, idlers, and stall-keepers, which is 
 generally collected during session, under the 
 magnificent rotunda between the two houses, and 
 which forms the most fashionable lounge and pro- 
 menade of the city. 
 
 We crossed the central hall and the library, 
 and entered into one of the stately marble corri- 
 dors which overlook the city on the other side of 
 the building ; this corridor was deserted, for the 
 idle crowd which frequents the capitol was at the 
 time anxiously listening to the progress of some 
 interesting debate w^hich was going on, as Lady 
 Leigh told me, in the House of Kepresentatives. 
 
 "It is so consoling to have a friend to open 
 one's heart to," she said, with a sigh, after some 
 minutes. " I have suffered so much ! One day 
 while I was still in Louisiana I received a tele- 
 gram telling me how ill my poor husband was. 
 Imagine how cruel it was of those people at 
 Havana to frighten me so ! It never occurred to 
 them to break the news to me by degrees, but
 
 76 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 they just said that my presence was necessary, 
 and that I must go at once if I ever hoped to see 
 my husband alive. Oh, it was cruel I I turned 
 sick, and cold, and it nearly made me faint, but 
 of course I went. My husband's life was at stake, 
 so I sacrificed myself, and went by the Mississipi ; 
 exposing myself to be blown up, or burnt, and 
 God knows what besides, — ^but what could I do ? It 
 was the nearest way, so 1 braved everything, every 
 danger, and in two days I was at New Orleans. 
 
 "But, once there, new troubles awaited me. 
 I was so unaccustomed to travel alone, that of 
 course I made a mess of it, and missed the steamer 
 that was to leave for the Havana that very day, 
 through my over-anxiety to be on board in time. 
 The owner of the hotel probably wished to keep me 
 there for a few days. I cannot tell, but he under- 
 took to convey my luggage on board while I drove 
 round to see the town, which was quite new 
 to me. When I reached the pier I found my 
 luggage had not arrived, so hastened back to the 
 hotel. Whether it went by some other streets I 
 know not, but at the hotel they told me my lug- 
 gage was on board ; and when I returned again to 
 the pier I found the man standing in the midst of 
 my packages, and the steamer gone 1 My heart was 
 very, very heavy as I returned to the hotel, and I 
 wept very bitter tears that night, and wrung my 
 hands in despair, Avhen I thought of my poor 
 George, alone and ill in a foreign land.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 77 
 
 " I was obliged to remain three days in New 
 Orleans ; you may imagine in what a state of 
 mind, ^dthout the possibility of receiving either 
 letters or telegrams from my husband. I was 
 indeed miserable ! I knew no one in the place, 
 and took a perfect loathing to it. There was no 
 means of continuing my journey before the boat 
 of the following week, unless I would make the 
 voyage in a nut-shell of a sailing-vessel that was 
 sailing on the evening of the third day. My im- 
 patience to be with my poor George was so great, 
 that I did not hesitate, and determined to run all 
 risks rather than remain inactive three days longer 
 in New Orleans. I had no one to advise me, or 
 to convince me that I was probably risking my 
 life, and that I should not arrive a day sooner 
 than I should have done had I waited for the 
 regular boat of the following week, and so I went 
 in the little sailing-vessel. Ah ! no one can tell 
 what I sujBfered in that little ship. My maid and 
 I were the only females on board. The cabins 
 were miserable, the cooking abominable. Provi- 
 dence fortunately favoured us in the weather, 
 which was smooth and lovely. What would have 
 become of me had it been rough and stormy I 
 dread to think. At last we sio-hted the Morro 
 Castle, but it was dusk, and we had to rock about 
 all night, and wait for the daylight before we 
 could round it and enter the harbour, because no
 
 78 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 vessels are allowed to enter after a certain gun is 
 fired in the evening. You can better imagine my 
 feelings than I can describe them, as I passed long 
 hours on the deck gazing at that immense revolv- 
 ing light ; alternating, like my hopes and fears, 
 between light and darkness. At daylight we 
 crowded all sail and entered the harbour, but it 
 was in the wake of the large and commodious 
 steamer, in which I might have made the voyage 
 if it had not been for my impatient haste ! 
 
 " Directly I landed I hastened to the hotel 
 where I knew my poor George was, but instead 
 of my husband I found General Herbert, the 
 American Consul, who evidently was waiting for 
 me. 
 
 " Ah 1 how can I tell you the rest ! He broke 
 the dreadful news to me. I was, of course, much 
 overcome. The privations of my hurried journey, 
 and the suddenness of the blow, brought on a 
 violent fever. I was obliged to keep my bed for 
 two weeks, during which time dear Mrs Herbert, 
 who is an angel of goodness, and who lived at the 
 same hotel, nursed me like a daughter, and con- 
 soled me with kind words and good advice. She 
 told me how my poor dear George had died just 
 a week before I arrived, with my name on his lips. 
 If I had not missed the steamer at New Orleans 
 I should have been in time, but would it have 
 done me any good ? Perhaps it all happened for
 
 PART THE FIRST 7c) 
 
 the best. Perhaps the parting scene would have 
 been . more than I could have borne and lived ; 
 and though I would have given the world to have 
 seen him once again, I could have done nothing 
 for him, poor darling ! But it was very sad, very 
 sad, indeed, for me to be left alone, a widow, at 
 the age of twenty-five ! Ah ! Lord Carlton, you 
 can pity me ; you who have such a feeling heart, 
 you who have also lost a beloved companion re- 
 cently. Ah I you know how sad it is to be left 
 alone ! " And the lovely widow lifted her tearful 
 eyes till they met mine, and found them almost 
 suffused in a rush of sympathetic tears. 
 
 " What made it still worse was that he was 
 no longer there. I mean to say, that seeing I 
 did not come, they had sent his dear remains to 
 New York. Only conceive, I must have crossed 
 him on my way to the island !" 
 
 " Your story is indeed a sad one," I said ; '' but 
 I hope you will always consider me as a true 
 friend. We can sympathise with one another, 
 for we have both lost the one dearest to our 
 hearts." 
 
 At that moment the corridor was all of a sud- 
 den invaded by the idle crowd. The debate had 
 finished, and the senators and their ladies were 
 gaily discussing the events of the day as they 
 walked through the galleries towards the Eotunda. 
 We got presently mixed up amongst the gay
 
 80 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 ladies and the excited politicians, and my fair 
 companion soon regained her spirits, and seemed 
 to have forgotten her sorrows as she discussed the 
 affairs of the nation with her numerous friends 
 and admirers.
 
 IX. 
 
 " Dicen que pasas los dias 
 Contemplandote al espejo, 
 For fuera eres muy bonita 
 Pero ? Te has visto por dentro ? 
 Tu alma segun aseguran 
 No se parece a tu cara 
 Y luego diran que el rostro 
 Es el espejo del alma ! " 
 
 Spanish Romance. 
 
 The conversation I have just narrated will, I think, 
 give to my readers a very fair idea of Lilian 
 Leigh's character. An acute observer would per- 
 haps discover that in reality there was very little 
 in her ; but, nevertheless, it was impossible not to 
 admire her as the tears suffused her soft eyes 
 leaning on my arm, or when she laughed gaily 
 with her other friends. She was beautiful, there 
 was no doubt of that ; and her sweet, innocent, 
 and winning ways had won for her the sympathy 
 of all who knew her. She was really fascinating. 
 She lived at the embassy with Lady Howard, 
 and mixed a great deal in the diplomatic circle, 
 of which she was the acknowledged belle. That 
 she was a coquette no one doubted for a mo- 
 ment ; but, being a widow and an American,
 
 82 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 her conduct, not perhaps in accordance with the 
 strictest laws of English society, was passed over 
 with every indulgence. 
 
 The world pitied her, and was kind to her, 
 perhaps not so much on account of the husband 
 she had lost, as for the millions which, although 
 lost to her for the present, might on some future 
 day change the poor young widow into one of the 
 wealthiest women in America. For people knew 
 well that the estates which the war had ruined 
 for the time being, belonged to her still, and would, 
 now that the war was over, become every year 
 more and more valuable, if properly managed. 
 
 Somehow or other, wherever I went I met 
 Lady Leigh, so that, whether I would or not, 1 
 was always in her company. I was not sorry for 
 this — far from it. It is true that, if I had been 
 left to myself, I should not have gone after her ; 
 but as chance always threw us together, I found 
 her society most agreeable. She had a great deal 
 of esprit ; although she possessed no real talent, 
 her conversation, if not of a very high character, 
 was amusing ; she knew so much about what 
 was going on in the world, so many interesting 
 anecdotes about everybody, that, somehow or 
 other, time never seemed to hang heavy on one's 
 hands when near her. 
 
 Her agreeable conversation gave you the idea 
 that there was a great soul hidden in that lovely 
 form ; but whenever I tried to explain to her
 
 PART THE FIRST. 83 
 
 some of the philosopliical speculations which have 
 always been my delight, she invariably contrived 
 to turn the subject of conversation. 
 
 *'I hate philosophy and philosophers, Lord 
 Carlton," I remember her saying on one occasion ; 
 " I take the world as I find it, and do not trouble 
 my head about such nonsense." 
 
 *' Nonsense you call it I To me philosophy is 
 life ; the present would be but a blank to me if I 
 were not able to speculate about the future. Do 
 you take no interest, Lady Leigh, in knowing 
 what awaits us on the other side of the g-rave ? " 
 
 " No, I do not ; and no sensible woman should. 
 We leave such idle dreams to you men ; and do 
 not expose ourselves to ridicule, as you do, by 
 speculating about what we never can know. I 
 suppose you like a woman to be learned and 
 strong-minded — a blue stocking, in fact ; one who 
 would walk about with cropped hair and manly 
 continuations, like Dr Mary Walker, whom you 
 remarked the other day in the Capitol ; a woman 
 who can talk big, and discuss science like a man. 
 I hate such anomalies. I Kke a man to be a man, 
 and a woman to be a woman. Only plain women 
 and old maids fight for woman's rio-hts. I find 
 my eyes quite powerfid enough to rule men, with- 
 out any need of special rights. No man has ever 
 ventured to deny us the gift of fascination, which, 
 after all, is the most powerful weapon in a woman's 
 hands."
 
 84 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 By this and other conversations, I soon learned 
 that it was useless to waste my time in arguing 
 with her, and I came at last to the conclusion 
 that but few women are gifted with so great a 
 heart and so speculative a mind as my lost Con- 
 chita had been. 
 
 Lilian Leigh was very amusing and entertain- 
 ing while in society, but out of her sphere I must 
 confess she was little better than a nonentity. 
 Whenever I started any serious subject she in- 
 stantly turned the conversation, and gave me to 
 understand that such things were too dry or too' 
 learned for women's ears. The colour of a ribbon " 
 was in her eyes far more important than all the 
 wisdom of the world put together. 
 
 She was a Catholic by birth and education, but 
 I am afraid her religion did not much occupy 
 either her head or her heart. She ' was very 
 bitter, nevertheless, against Protestants, whom 
 of course she firmly believed destined to perdi- 
 tion. However, she did not let this thought 
 trouble her much. I remember one Sunday 
 accompanying her to High Mass; Father Taylor 
 was going to preach, and the little church was 
 of course as crowded as it could be. At the 
 door we met a great friend of hers, a lady from 
 Louisiana, who was married to a senator. 
 
 *'How do you do, Ethel? How lovely you 
 look, dear," said my fair companion, as she kissed 
 her friend on both clieeks.
 
 PART THE FIRST 85 
 
 "So you have come to hear dear old Father 
 Taylor ! What a beautiful sermon he gave us 
 last Sunday ! By the by, I did not see you at 
 church. Were you here ?" 
 
 " No/' answered Lady Leigh, '' 1 had a dread- 
 ful headache, but I came to early mass instead ; 
 it is so much shorter, you know." 
 
 "You wicked little thing! But the fault 
 carried its o^ti punishment," added her friend, 
 with a sarcastic smile, " for you missed seeing 
 my new dress, which everyone admired and pro- 
 nounced a great success." 
 
 " Oh, if I had known that, I would not have 
 missed the High Mass for anything. But you 
 
 look lovely to-day Is that dress from 
 
 Worth ? " 
 
 " Yes, it came last Wednesday. How kind of 
 you, dear Lilian, to admire it ? Do you know 
 what Father Taylor is going to preach about ? " 
 
 " No, not in the least. I only hope it won't be 
 a very long sermon. Will you come and sit in 
 our seats ? " 
 
 " No, I have promised LIrs Morrison to sit in 
 hers. But do look here — what a dress ! Ah ! it 
 is Opaline Fitz- Albert. It is just what I should 
 have expected from her. Some people do not 
 know the difference between the house of 
 God and the Opera. I should be quite 
 ashamed to appear at church in such a dress ! 
 By the by, Lilian, how do you get on with Lady
 
 ^6 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Howard ? It must be a great mortification to you 
 to live with Protestants. There is nothing so 
 bad in the world as bad example. How do you 
 manage, for instance, on Fridays ? Do you have 
 a dinner cooked for yourself alone ? " 
 
 " Oh dear, don't talk to me of that. When I 
 think of it, it makes me shudder. Just fancy, I 
 have been obliged to give up fasting altogether ; 
 for Lady Howard's cook makes such a mess of 
 fish dinners. She knows no more about dressing 
 fish than you or I do. Ah ! when I remember the 
 elegant dinners we used to have at home on 
 Fridays ! That was something like fasting ! 
 Oh ! there's nothing like a French cook. French 
 cooks understand all these things so well ! " 
 
 " Do you mean to say, Lilian," exclaimed her 
 friend, thoroughly shocked, "that you eat meat 
 on fast days ? " 
 
 '' Well, but how can I help it ; you would not 
 have me starve ! " 
 
 After this we entered the church in silence, and 
 the two friends separated. I accompanied Lady 
 Leigh to her friend's pew. " The conceited 
 hypocrite," she exclaimed, as soon as she had 
 crossed herself with her little delicate hand, 
 compressed into the smallest pale lavender glove. 
 " The conceited hypocrite ! She pretends to be 
 shocked at my living with Lady Howard, whom 
 she calls a heretic. I suppose she has forgotten 
 that her husband is also a Protestant ! Just
 
 PART THE FIRST 87 
 
 fancy, Lord Carlton, that woman is considered by 
 some people quite a beauty 1 I know you do not 
 tbink so, just look at her there, on the other side, 
 flirting away with Colonel Armstrong. Oh it is 
 disgraceful, and in church too ! But look at 
 that lady behind her. AMiat a bonnet ! Why ! 
 it's Cornelia ! She looks quite pretty though 
 through that veil." 
 
 Findinor that I did not answer, she knelt down 
 again upon the soft red velvet cushion, and 
 casting a look of adoration towards the high 
 altar, which blazed with candles and wax tapers, 
 she again crossed herself, this time finishing by 
 hiding her face completely in her pretty Kttle 
 hands. 
 
 For two minutes she remained in this interest- 
 ing attitude ; then she sat down again by my 
 side, retied the elegant knot of her bonnet, 
 deposited her jewelled prayer-book upon the desk 
 before her, and began to cast little searching 
 looks around her through her long eye-lashes, 
 smiling right and left as she met the eye of some 
 friend or acquaintance. At last she turned to 
 me, and asked me to look out the place for her 
 in the missal. 
 
 " You must be very quiet, Lord Carlton," she 
 said, *' for Madame Guerin is going to sing, and 
 I am so fond of music ! " 
 
 The holy servdce began and finished in due time, 
 accompanied by various little running remarks
 
 88 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 on the part of my fair friend. After a long, 
 wearisome, and superficial sermon, she said, 
 turning to me, — " What a beautiful sermon ! 
 There, I am sure if Lady Howard had heard it, 
 she would have become a Catholic at once. 
 Ah, Father Taylor is a charming man ; so 
 gentlemanly, and so very clever ! I really must 
 ask her to invite him to her next dinner party. 
 Besides he is my father confessor," she added, 
 looking at me wickedly. ** I see you understand." 
 
 Shortly after this the blessing was pronounced, 
 and we left the church. 
 
 I only mention these scenes, which may appear 
 but trivial, in order to convey to my readers, if 
 possible, a true idea of Lilian Leigh's character, 
 which, I am sure, I should fail to do in any other 
 way. 
 
 One day Lady Leigh told me that she had 
 received an invitation from Mrs Herbert, the wife 
 of the American Consul in the Havana, asking 
 her to spend a month or so with her in the 
 beautiful island of Cuba. 
 
 " And will you accept it ? " I asked her. 
 
 " Yes, I think so ; although I have suffered so 
 much in that island it is too lovely a spot to be 
 despised. Besides I have many friends there, 
 and dear Mrs Herbert and the General were so 
 kind to me all through my troubles, that I think 
 it would seem almost ungrateful not to accept 
 their kind invitation. So I shall go."
 
 PART THE FIRST. 39 
 
 " And ^oll you leave all your friends in tliis 
 way, just in the midst of the season ?" 
 
 '' They won't miss me, I am sure, Lord Carlton. 
 Ah ! all are not like you, so kind, so considerate, 
 so agreeable. By -the -by. Lord Carlton, why 
 don't you go with me to Cuba ? You have 
 nothing particular to do in Washington, so I am 
 sure you had better go with me." This abrupt 
 invitation was given in that true-hearted, plain- 
 spoken American fashioji, which one finds so 
 difficult to decline. I did not promise to accom- 
 pany the lovely widow however, on her expedi- 
 tion to the Spanish West Indies ; but I did not 
 say no, and she, of course, took it for granted 
 that I should be her escort.
 
 X. 
 
 " Ah ! d'une ardeur sincere 
 Le temps ne peut distraire, 
 Et DOS plus doux plaisirs 
 Sout dans nos souvenirs. 
 On pense, on pense encore 
 A celle qu'on adore, 
 Et I'on revient tou jours 
 
 A ses premiers amours." 
 
 Etienne. 
 
 Two months had passed away smce the conver- 
 sations I have narrated in the last chapter. 
 
 At last, after a few days' hesitation, I decided 
 to accompany Lady Leigh on her trip to Cuba. 
 An uncle of hers, Professor Farren, was also to 
 be of the party, so that I no longer had occasion 
 to dread the world's gossip, which world would 
 certainly have thought fit to lift up its hands and 
 be scandalised, if I had ventured to travel alone 
 with the young and handsome widow. 
 
 At first I had determined not to accompany 
 her ; but the dreaded idea of being deprived of 
 her society, — superficial and trifling as it was, — 
 made me change my mind. . I was alone in the 
 world, without friends and even mthout hopes ; 
 and man upon this earth needs some companion-
 
 PART THE FIRST 91 
 
 ship, — some one who at least appears to feel an 
 interest in his thouo[hts and feelino-s. Without 
 this some one life would be worse than a blank, 
 it woul.d be torture. My thoughts were so sad 
 and so disheartening since my wife's death that I 
 was only too glad to avoid them, and even to 
 endeavour to forget, if possible, the happy past, 
 in the excitement of the fleeting pleasures of the 
 present. 
 
 Lilian Leigh was the first woman fate had 
 thrown in my way since Conchita's death ; and 
 although' I could not help perceiving her inferiority 
 to the latter, I cluno: to her as a drownino^ man 
 clings to the slight plank which alone is left to 
 save him from the dark abyss. 
 
 Conchita appeared now to me as a happy 
 dream, too beautiful to have ever been. True, I 
 thought it impossible ever to find another woman 
 equal to her, — so beautiful, so wise, so good, so 
 superior in every way, — and thus I tried to con- 
 sole myself, as well as I could, with the American 
 beauty, whom people thought I so much admired. 
 Ah ! how often does the world mistake our feelings 
 towards those it most delights to couple us T\dth ! 
 And yet, perhaps, the world was, in this case, 
 better able to judge of my sensations than I was 
 myself. 
 
 Lilian Leigh was thus given over to me by 
 universal report, and I, clinging to her society, as 
 a matter of course tried to endow her in my
 
 92 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 imagination with all the talents and high quali- 
 ties which I would have wished her to possess ; as 
 well as with those few which she actually mani- 
 fested ; till I sometimes metamorphosed her in my 
 mind into the perfect ideal of womanhood I had 
 conceived in my wildest dreams of supreme hap- 
 piness ; though I must confess she would not have 
 been able to recognise herself had she known them. 
 
 We were to meet at New York, where she was 
 to go with her uncle, Professor Farren, direct ; 
 and in the meantime I spent a few weeks in 
 Philadelphia, that most enjoyable of all American 
 cities. 
 
 Philadelphia is one of the largest of these cities, 
 although, perhaps, New York possesses more 
 inhabitants ; but Philadelphia is by right the 
 historical city of the Union, for in it was signed, 
 in July 1776, the Declaration of Independence, 
 which gave birth to the great Eepublic. It is 
 also full of mementos of Washington, William 
 Penn, Franklin, Kittenhouse, Bartram, Lafayette, 
 Jefferson, Morris, Talleyrand, Thomas Penn, 
 Lincoln, Grant, &c. 
 
 As every one knows the old town w^as planned 
 by William Penn, who afterwards gave his name 
 to the whole State in the year 1682, and served 
 first of aU as a. Quaker settlement. Indeed, 
 it retains to this day its Quaker air, although 
 nearly all the original Quaker families for whom 
 it was built have long since disappeared.
 
 PART THE FIRST 93 
 
 The city is built witli mathematical accuracy ; 
 all the streets are straight and of equal breadth, 
 running due north and south, east and west, 
 with the distinction that those running east and 
 west are named after native trees, and those 
 running north and south are numbered from the 
 banks of the Delaware westwards. 
 
 In the centre, where Fourteenth and Market 
 Streets meet, there is a large square, in which 
 the municipal building's of the town will shortly 
 be erected ; and in the centre of the other four 
 quarters of the city there are also four other 
 squares, which have been called the lungs of the 
 city. The houses are numbered alternately, and 
 follow the order of the streets ; thus. Front Street 
 being No. 1, the house next west of it is Xo. 100; 
 at Second Street, though the first 100 is not 
 exhausted, a second series begins ; and in this 
 way, after a little mathematical calculation, a 
 person can always tell you exactly in what part of 
 the city he is, or in what direction he wants to go. 
 If the number of the nearest house is 4081, for in- 
 stance, he knows that Fortieth Street is east of him, 
 and that the next street west is Fortv-first Street. 
 
 Market Street is the principal artery of the 
 city^, and runs its one hundred feet of width from 
 the Delaware to the Schuylkill, in a perfectly 
 straight line ; it is, however, entirely a commer- 
 cial street, lined with shops or stores, as they are 
 here called, and warehouses, from river to river.
 
 94 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 The more fashionable streets being Chestnut, 
 Walnut, and Broad Streets. 
 
 The capital of Pennsylvania is rich in beauti- 
 ful buildings, the greater part of which are of 
 marble, and decorated in a most artistic style. 
 Not even the Fifth Avenue of New York, which 
 is the pride of all Americans, can, to my taste, 
 compete with some of the streets of Philadelphia. 
 The palaces of the merchant princes of this city 
 are truly gorgeous, and might well stand com- 
 parison with our very best European houses ; 
 as, for instance, those of Mr George W. Childs, 
 Mr Thomson, and Mr Thomas MacKellar, which 
 might be taken for models of the most sumptu- 
 ous, artistic, and splendid mansions. 
 
 The public buildings are also very beautiful. 
 I may mention the Catholic Cathedral of St 
 Peter and St Paul, which is cousidered the finest 
 church in the United States. There are also 
 other thirty-five Catholic churches in Phila- 
 delphia, while there are scarcely thirteen Quaker 
 Meeting-houses left ! 
 
 Thanks to the great kindness of Mr George W. 
 Childs, the well-known and celebrated proprietor 
 of the Public Ledger, which, by the by, is the 
 paper which has the largest circulation in the 
 world, I was able to see and admire, in all then- 
 particulars, the most interesting buildings and 
 historical sites of this city. 
 
 I will particularly mention the Girard College,
 
 PART THE FIRST. 95 
 
 a beautiful structure, copied from the Made- 
 laine in Paris, it was built by Stephen Girard, 
 a Frenchman who made an immense fortune in 
 Philadelphia, and at his death bequeathed to 
 the town an estate of forty-five acres and the 
 sum of two million dollars, to be employed in 
 erecting a college capable of accommodating 
 three hundred poor orphan children. The pre- 
 sent number of pupils amounts to five hundred 
 and fifty ; five other buildings, also of marble, 
 and built in the Grecian style to match the prin- 
 cipal college, have been added for their accom- 
 modation. 
 
 The University of Pennsylvania is another 
 beautiful building, of serpentine marble, in the 
 Gothic style of architecture. 
 
 Indeed, Philadelphia is rich in colleges and 
 public schools, and also in libraries, with which 
 she has supplemented an admirable educational 
 system. 
 
 While in that town I went to see the celebrated 
 prison known as the Eastern Penitentiary, of 
 which Charles Dickens gave such a sad and melan- 
 choly account. I even saw the man of whom he 
 wrote : "I never saw such a picture of forlorn 
 affliction and distress of mind. My heart bled 
 for him ; and when the tears ran down his cheeks, 
 and he took one of the visitors aside to ask, with 
 his trembling hands nervously clutching at his 
 coat to detain him, whether there was no hope of
 
 96 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 his dismal sentence being commuted, the spec- 
 tacle was really too painful to witness. I never 
 saw or heard of any kind of misery that impressed 
 me more than the wretchedness of this man." 
 
 And 1 found him to be a jolly, fresh-faced, 
 happy-go-lucky German, who laughed in my face 
 when I asked him if he had read Dickens' ac- 
 count of him in his " American Notes." 
 
 Considering that this man since that time 
 (1842) has been set free, and put into the same 
 prison as many as five consecutive times, and that 
 the last time, when he once more took possession 
 of his comfortable cell, he exclaimed, " Thank 
 God I am at home once more!" considering 
 that I heard from his own lips that he could not 
 be happy outside those walls, I do not think he is 
 much to be pitied. 
 
 It is true that the prisoners are separated, but 
 not solitary ; they see and converse with the 
 prison inspectors, and even with their families 
 and friends, and I think to be kept away from 
 the other prisoners ought to be considered a bless- 
 ing rather than a misfortune, for I am sure little 
 good can be derived from such society, and no 
 honest man could pine for it. Constant contact 
 with the vicious can only conduce to vice. Each 
 prisoner is furnished with enough work to keep 
 him moderately busy, and is, besides, allowed to 
 earn as much money as he can, by working for 
 himself. The cells open on either side out of 
 
 V
 
 PART THE FIRST. 97 
 
 long corridors, which all proceed from a centre 
 room forming a star ; this room is the library for 
 the prisoners, who are allowed to read as much 
 as they like, and those who do not know how to 
 read are taught to do so, it being one of the rules 
 of the penitentiary ; so that, altogether, I do not 
 think, as Dickens did, that ^* death would be pre- 
 ferable to such a life." Nor do I hold with the 
 great writer, that " this slow and daily tampering 
 with the mysteries of the brain is immeasurably 
 worse than any torture of the body." On the 
 contrary, I firmly believe it to be by far the most 
 philosophic and humane chastisement that man 
 can inflict, since, while it insures the prisoner 
 from the continual contact and consequent con- 
 tamination of vice, it provides time for reflection, 
 and wholesome food for the mind, which is not 
 left to prey upon itself. Of course it is always 
 happier to be free, but then it is their own fault 
 if they find themselves in a prison. Crime must 
 be punished, otherwise society would soon come 
 to an end. This was the first prison ever started 
 on the solitary system, and I believe it has given 
 the very best results. Its great advantage over 
 other systems is, as I have indicated, that the 
 convicts have leisure and opportunity for reflec- 
 tion, and for the formation of steady and correct 
 habits : and when set free are not in danger of 
 meeting other prisoners who can identify them, 
 and thus obtain a fearful power and influence 
 
 I. G
 
 98 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 over them for wrong- doing, neither can tliey be 
 contaminated by them during their confinement. 
 
 The same day, after visiting the Eastern Peni- 
 tentiary, I went to see the Pennsylvania Insane 
 Hospital, which is giving such good results under 
 the able management of Dr Kirkbright ; and this 
 is, indeed, a sad and a melancholy place if you 
 will, in spite of its beautiful marble halls, com- 
 fortable rooms, and stately gardens and park. 
 
 And yet perhaps, after all, those poor people 
 are happier in their madness than we with all 
 our boasted sense. I am sure sometimes I have 
 wished I were mad, and could forget all that has 
 happened for the last few months, to live once 
 more in the happy past. Such were my thoughts 
 as I paced that splendid mansion, which seems, 
 indeed, the heaven of forgetfulness, and yet there 
 is something very sad in a madhouse ; and one can- 
 not help asking oneself the unanswerable question, 
 Why are these things so ? Why should there be 
 madness and idiocy ? 
 
 In one of the rooms I saw an old-looking lady 
 lying upon a sofa with her legs and feet resting on 
 the arm of the couch, and her hair, which was white 
 as snow — ^and, strange to say, most of them are 
 grey-headed — hanging loosely over the back of 
 the sofa. This poor woman, long past the prime 
 of life, they told me had once been the belle of 
 Philadelphia, and had gone mad when she lost 
 her beauty. She had already been twenty years
 
 PART THE FIRST. 99 
 
 in the establishment. Do all the vanities of this 
 world end thus % 
 
 But I must turn away from this sad subject. 
 
 The society of Philadelphia is generally ac- 
 knowledged to be the best in the States, and the 
 most agreeable. From the very first day of my 
 arrival at the Continental Hotel — which, by the 
 by, is the best I have been in as yet in America, 
 — I received visits from manv of the kind in- 
 habitants, who seemed to take a real interest in 
 me, and to feel a sympathy for my sadness. 
 They have all been so good and so truly kind, 
 that I could not let this occasion pass without 
 recording my gratitude, and thanking them all 
 from the bottom of my heart for the delicate 
 attentions and friendly kindnesses I received from 
 them, and which I fear it will never be in my 
 power to return. 
 
 These kind and indefatio;able friends arrang^ed 
 a delightful excursion for me to visit the Penn- 
 sylvania coal district, which we did, a large party 
 of ladies and gentlemen all seated on three 
 little separate engines, which followed each other 
 at a short distance — the three always keeping in 
 sight of one another, and looking very much like 
 toy engines. They were gaily painted on the 
 outside, and covered in with glass roofs and sides. 
 I think I never experienced a more enjoyable 
 sensation than whilst rushing over the country in 
 this tiny vehicle, surrounded by gay and pleasant
 
 100 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 companions, protected from the intense cold with- 
 out by the comfort that reigned within the little 
 glass abode. We were sitting on the engine it- 
 self, whose blazing fire kept us at a most com- 
 fortable temperature, although all without was a 
 glorious scene of ice and snow ; every tree was 
 frosted, and nothing to be seen for leagues 
 and leagues but that solemn snow-covered land- 
 scape ; relieved by the dark pine-trees and forests 
 of evergreen on the tops of some of the high 
 mountains. Now and then we would come 
 upon a long train — a line of cars they would call 
 it here — humbly drawn up on one side of the 
 road to allow our three little spinning engines to 
 fly past unmolested ; for the telegraph was kept 
 at work incessantly during the two days of our 
 most original excursion, to give warning of our 
 approach, and convey the order from the Directors, 
 who were of our party, to suspend all traffic on 
 the line until we had rushed past. Suddenly 
 would occur a deep bend on the line and a curve 
 which would cause the first engine, our leader, to 
 pass in a parallel line with us, as if retracing its 
 steps many yards below us — that was a pretty 
 sight, as we rushed wildly after each other 
 through this ghostly-looking universe of snow ! 
 Then again we would come to an immense 
 mountain, up whose perpendicular sides our fairy 
 engines had to climb ! And this feat of man's 
 ingenuity and power was performed in less time
 
 PART THE FIRST. loi 
 
 than it would take me to describe it, by stupendous 
 machineiy of pulleys and ropes that I have not 
 genius enough to explain, but which drew forth the 
 admiration of every practical man in our party. 
 The leaoTies and leasoies of coal mines that we 
 passed were perfectly bewildering. I can only 
 say they left the impression on my mind that the 
 startling report that was once raised in Europe 
 of an approaching end of that necessary article of 
 use and comfort, was most uncalled for — I should 
 say this district alone could supply the world 
 with coal. We found a handsome luncheon 
 awaitinor us at the best hotel in Eeadinor, and a 
 most sumptuous banquet by way of a dinner at 
 Mount Carbon, the end of our first day's journey; 
 with the best of wines, including the most 
 expensive Johannisberg that the Prince of 
 Metternich's celebrated vineyards ever produced ; 
 and the most exquisite ices ever invented by 
 Parisian genius to tempt the fastidious taste of 
 her spoilt children of fashion. On entering the 
 dining-room the eye was not only struck with the 
 brilliancy of the hundreds of wax lights reflected 
 on the rich silver plate, but also enchanted with 
 the luxurious profusion of freshly gathered flowers 
 of every hue. Nothing can surpass the beauty 
 and the profusion of these lovely flowers which 
 are to be seen in the greatest abundance on every 
 well appointed table in all the large cities of the 
 Union ; they all come from Boston, where they
 
 102 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 are cultivated as an immense trade, and from 
 whence they are sent all over the country. The 
 packing of these fragile beauties appears to me as 
 great a mystery, and as wonderful an art, as their 
 cultivation in the midst of the intense cold that 
 reigns on this eastern coast during their Arctic 
 winters, for the whole country round is covered 
 with several feet of snow ; the sleigh bells are 
 sounding merrily in the air ; but instead of holly, 
 Christmas berries, and mistletoe in their houses, 
 these spoilt children are surrounded by lovely 
 Boston rosebuds of every hue — and hot-house 
 flowers of every variety of beauty too numerous 
 to specify, and only to be obtained at an immense 
 cost — 50 or 100 dollars a hundred. 
 
 Comfortable bed-rooms were provided for all 
 the merry party, who retired early to rest after 
 listening to a few sweet songs from the lovely 
 voice of the fair wife of Mr Childs, who assisted 
 to do the honours of the table for Mr Cowan, the 
 President of the Eeading Kailway, to whose 
 princely hospitality we were indebted for this 
 memorable, and most agreeable, entertaining, and 
 instructive excursion of two days' duration. 
 
 Philadelphia abounds in manufactories of all 
 descriptions, many of which I visited through 
 the kind instrumentality of the various pro- 
 prietors, acquiring fresh knowledge and informa- 
 tion at every visit I paid ; for 1 found every one
 
 PART THE FIRST. 103 
 
 anxious to explain and indefatigable in their 
 endeavours to acquaint one with the processes of 
 their various productions. 
 
 I must not omit to mention a most interesting 
 visit I paid to the immense establishment of Mr 
 Lippincott, the great j)^^!!*'^^^^? whose vast 
 premises, and endless galleries full of intelligent 
 work-people, each and all engaged on the various 
 processes of printing, lithographing, binding, 
 gilding, and all the multifarious recj^uirements 
 needed to carry out the work of publishing the 
 words and thoughts, that are by these means to 
 spread far and wide over the land, afforded me 
 one of the greatest pleasures I enjoyed in my 
 rambles through Philadelphia. I was surprised 
 to learn from Mr Lippincott that large quantities 
 of the great placards of different announcements, 
 and various theatrical and other entertainments 
 that line our London streets^ are printed in his 
 vast establishment, and sent over to England by 
 the hundred weight. 
 
 I believe had I stayed a month longer in 
 Philadelphia, I should still have found much of 
 interest to see and hear. Upon the whole, I 
 spent a most agreeable time in this capital of the 
 beautiful State of Pennsylvania, and if I was able 
 anywhere to forget the heavy loss I had so 
 recently sustained, it was certainly in this city, to 
 whose kind inhabitants I am so much indebted ; 
 they treated me with splendid hospitality, and
 
 104 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 what is far more to the lonely traveller con- 
 tinually made me feel that I was surrounded by 
 the true interest of friendship. The kind voices 
 of Mr Childs and his charming accomplished 
 wife will ever be associated in my mind, with 
 the calm stately atmosphere of tlie Quaker City. 
 The jDleasant hours I have passed with them will 
 never be forgotten. The princely hospitality of 
 Mr and Mrs E. Thompson is, indeed, something 
 to record in the history of my journey to 
 America for not only was their magnificent 
 mansion always open to me, but they provided 
 me with their own private car for the different 
 excursions I made by rail, excursions which, in 
 the old country, could no longer be called by so 
 unimportant a name, for some of them lasted for 
 days and nights, during which I found every 
 comfort and luxury — both of table and service — 
 that the most fastidious taste could desire, pro- 
 vided for me by the forethought and attention of 
 these kind and most hospitable friends. I shall 
 certainly never forget Philadelphia, where I was 
 feted and treated more as a European Prince 
 than as the humble, sad, and solitary wanderer I 
 really felt myself to be. May all good blessings 
 rest upon those kind friends ; and on thine too, 
 my kind thoughtful young host of the Continental 
 Hotel, whose hand was the last to press mine as 
 I stepped into that princely private car, composed 
 of drawing, dining, and bed-rooms, with rich
 
 PART THE FIRST. 105 
 
 blue satin furniture and hano'inp;s. Farewell, 
 good and kind Frank Henderson — I trust to 
 welcome you all some day on my side of the 
 broad Atlantic ; till then, God bless you all for 
 your kind reception of the lonely stranger to your 
 beautiful city, to your marble halls, and above all, 
 to your noble hearts !
 
 XL 
 
 " La science n'est pas materialiste et ne peut servir I'erreur. 
 
 " II nous faut une croyance ; les esprits qui se vontent de n'en 
 avoir aucune, sont les plus pres de tomber dans la superstition, ou 
 de s'evanouir dans I'indifference. 
 
 " Les doctrines a priori ont fait leur temps, et nous n'en voulons 
 plus. 
 
 " La science n'affirme rien. ne nie rien ; la science cherche." 
 
 C. Flammarion. 
 
 After this short but exceedingly agreeable so- 
 journ in Philadelphia, I went once more to New 
 York, where I found Lady Leigh and her uncle. 
 Professor Farren, already installed in the Fifth 
 Avenue Hotel, awaiting my arrival to take the 
 first steamer for the Havana, as we had arranged 
 before leaving Washington. 
 
 Professor Farren was a very clever man, of no 
 small attainments. He was a profound scholar, 
 and, for many years, had been professor at Cam- 
 bridge, in New England. Unlike his niece, 
 Lilian Leigh, he cared little for society, of which 
 he knew nothing, and unlike her too, he loved 
 philosophical speculations and those metaphysical 
 dreams that I also delighted in. 
 
 His school of philosophy was, however, so dif- 
 ferent from mine, that we found it very difficult to
 
 PART THE FIRST 107 
 
 agree on scarcely any subject; so that to the great 
 delight of Lady Leigh, who hated any serious 
 conversation, we generally abstained from men- 
 tioning subjects on which we knew we could never 
 come to an understanding. 
 
 One day, however, after listening to a long and 
 detailed list of the merits of Sir George Leigh, 
 which his widow thought fit to give us, I asked 
 her why she did not try to communicate with 
 him through a spirit-medium. I related the ex- 
 traordinary manifestations I had witnessed at Dr 
 Slade's, and my firm belief that all those pheno- 
 mena really proceeded from some unseen and im- 
 material acrencv. 
 
 " I wonder," I said, " that you have never tried 
 to communicate with the spirit of the husband 
 you so loved on earth, and whose memory still 
 seems so dear to you ! " 
 
 " Oh ! I do not beheve in those things," she 
 said. " Besides, I should be so frightened if a 
 spirit were to appear before me ; and then, too, 
 my confessor would never forgive me." 
 
 " You are fit company for one another," inter- 
 rupted the old professor, with a sneer. " You, 
 Lilian, with your fear of priests and the confes- 
 sional, and you, sir, with your low superstitions 
 about spirit-manifestations and miracles. I should 
 never have taken you for such a simpleton," he 
 politely added, " as to believe in the possibility of 
 anything happening contrary to the laws of nature."
 
 io8 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " But I do not assert that anything ever hap- 
 pens contrary to the laws of nature. On the 
 contrary, I see nothing in those laws which would 
 prevent us believing in the possibility of such a 
 thing." 
 
 " Our ideas are very different on this point, 
 Lord Carlton," he said, after a few minutes. " To 
 believe in the possibility of spirit- communication 
 one must necessarily believe in a future state." 
 
 "Is it possible, then, that you do not believe 
 in the immortality of the soul ?" 
 
 " I would believe in it," he said, " most assur- 
 edly, if I believed in its existence at all ; but as 
 yet I have found nothing to prove to me its exist- 
 ence. I have indeed, read many, more or less 
 probable speculations, trying to establish the truth 
 of these worn-out and empty dreams which men 
 in their unheard-of conceit, have tried to establish 
 as a reality, but I have never seen anything worth 
 even inquiring about." 
 
 " But if you deny a man a soul, you cannot 
 possibly deny him the power, which undoubtedly 
 he possesses, of reasoning, thinking, remembering, 
 &c., &c. How can y^ou account for those pheno- 
 mena, if you deny the existence of a mind, sepa- 
 rate and distinct from the body ?" 
 
 *^ You talk of things you do not understand. 
 Those properties of which you speak only prove 
 to me that matter possesses numerous and varied 
 properties. Thinking is neither more nor less a
 
 PART THE FIRST, 109 
 
 property of matter than digestion, only that one 
 is the especial property of the brain and the other 
 of the stomach." 
 
 " The brain I take to be the instrument of 
 which the spirit makes use in the same way as a 
 man makes use of a piano to produce music. The 
 instrument would not, could not produce it if left 
 to itself." 
 
 " Ah 1 that is what people who know nothing 
 of the brain and its particular formation are 
 always telling me ; but if such is the case, tell 
 me, how is it that when the brain is injured men 
 lose their reason % I have known hundreds of 
 such cases. The smallest pressure of a bone upon 
 the brain will stop all thought, and even conscious- 
 ness. AVhat does that show, but that thouo-ht is 
 but a property of that especial organ ?" 
 
 " I cannot deny, sir, that the state of the body 
 aflfects the mind and reason of a person ; but you 
 must remember that I do not assert that man 
 possesses a soul separately and independently from 
 his organisation, but, on the contrary, that I firmly 
 believe this organisation to be the instrument 
 through which the soul receives impressions. Xo 
 wonder, therefore, that the imperfections of the 
 instrument should render those impressions un- 
 true, or that the total destruction of it should 
 stop those impressions altogether." 
 
 " My dear uncle," said Lilian, all of a sudden, 
 " I hope you are not going to enter now into a
 
 no THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 never-ending discussion about all that rubbish of 
 which you are both so fond. It is very rude, 
 particularly before a lady. ... I think we had 
 better dine to-day at Delmonico's. So it is time 
 to make our preparations." 
 
 This, of course, put a stop to our discussion ; 
 but before I left the room Professor Farren came 
 up to me and said, " I am not sorry that my 
 niece has checked our wild speculations in this 
 way ; for, my dear sir, I am like the old Alexan- 
 drian philosopher, ' sick of syllogisms, and pro- 
 babilities, and "pros and cons.' What do I care," 
 he continued, " after all, if on weighing both 
 sides, the nineteen pounds' weight of question- 
 able arguments against, are overbalanced by the 
 twenty pounds' weight of equally questionable 
 arguments for ? Do you not see that my belief 
 in your victorious argument will be proportioned 
 to the one over-balancing pound only, while the 
 whole other nineteen will go for nothing ? " 
 
 I laughed at this unexpected sally, but was 
 obliged to answer. "You are right, sir, and 
 I must confess that you are so, although I am 
 really chagrined at it. But the more I see of 
 the world, the more I am convinced that what 
 men need, is not so much a more or less probable 
 philosophy sustained by more or less convincing 
 arguments, but a faith beyond all arguments and 
 discussions ; for what would be an unquestionable 
 proof to me, need not therefore be equally so to
 
 PART THE FIRST. jii 
 
 you. We do not want to possess a faith, we 
 want a faith capable of possessing us." 
 
 And thus we parted, having gained little, as 
 usual, from our discussion, excepting the disap- 
 proval of Lilian Leigh.
 
 XII. 
 
 *' Gerarda. Todo se apreude hija y no hay cosa mas facil que 
 enganar a los hombres, de lo que ellos tienen la culpa; porque 
 como nos tan privado del estudio de las ciencias en que pudieramos 
 divertir nuestros ingenios sutiles, solo estudiamos una, que es la 
 de enganarlos, y como no hay mas que un libro, todas lo sabemos 
 de memoria. 
 
 " Dorotea. Nunca yo le he visto. 
 
 " Gerarda. Pues es excelente lectura y de famosos capitulos. 
 
 " Dorotea. Dime los titulos siquiera. 
 
 " Gerarda. De fingir amor al rico, y no disgustar al pobre. De 
 desmayarse a su tiempo, y llorar sin causa. De dar celos al 
 libre, y al colerico satisfacciones. De mirar dormido y reir con 
 donaire. De estudiar vocables y aprender bailes. . . . Y de no- 
 enamorarse per ningun acontecimiento, porque todo va perdido, 
 sin otros muchos capitulos de menor importancia." 
 
 "^LoPE DE Vega. 
 
 The tenth of December found us still in New 
 York. For some reason or other we had not 
 been able to get a steamer in which to proceed 
 on our voyage to Cuba, and were still stopping 
 at the Fifth Avenue Hotel in the great American 
 metropolis. 
 
 We had been to the theatre to witness Miss 
 Neilson's interpretation of Shakespeare's Juliet. 
 The merits of this pleasing actress are too 
 well known for it to be necessary that I 
 should dwell upon them here ; indeed, what could
 
 PART THE FIRST 113 
 
 I say that would add to lier fame ? She exercises 
 such an absolute power over her audience that 
 she makes the Avhole theatre shed tears of 
 sympathy. It is impossible not to feel her gentle 
 and graceful influence. 
 
 Lady Leigh could hardly control her feelings, 
 she who generally possessed such power over 
 herself, and even Professor Farren who particularly 
 disliked theatres, was overcome by those tender 
 scenes so life-like when represented by the beauti- 
 ful Miss Neilson. 
 
 We had had a cold and windy sledge drive 
 from the theatre — which fortunately is not very 
 far from the hotel — and now behold us seated before 
 a luxurious supper, in which the delicate dishes, 
 terrapin, and canvass-back ducks, figured with a 
 gumbo of oysters, and other American daiaties, 
 while iced champagne was ready to recruit the 
 vital powers exhausted with the stifliag heat of 
 the theatre and the cold drive which had 
 followed it. 
 
 Lady Leigh occupied a suite of apartments on 
 the twenty- second street side of the hotel, and it 
 was in one of these we were now sitting, alone, for 
 the first time since our arrival in New York, for the 
 old professor had retired to his club after the play. 
 
 We seemed to have brought with us, from the 
 theatre, an atmosphere of poetry and passion. 
 Shakespeare's burning words still vibrated in my 
 eaxs, and I could have fancied that the glo^-iag 
 
 I. H
 
 114 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 sun of Italy had just set over fair Verona, and 
 all the personages of the soul-stirring tragedy. 
 
 In such a mood of mind, with a lovely woman 
 by my side, whose eyes told their tale of love 
 only too plainly, will not the reader pardon me 
 if the sweet pure image of Conchita paled for the 
 first time before the overwhelming combination of 
 glowing reality and glorious fiction ? Alas ! 
 I found it so, and when Lilian's voice stole softly 
 on my ear, it found a too ready echo in my heart. 
 
 " Lord Carlton," said she, a tear trembling in 
 her blue eye, like the morning dew on a violet, 
 " does not your heart bleed for those true lovers, 
 and yet do you not feel that their short life of 
 love was infinitely to be preferred to an eternity 
 of loveless apathy ? Is life worth having 
 uncheered by affection, by — " a glance and a 
 slight movement towards taking my hand in hers 
 completed the sentence. 
 
 But the image of Conchita seemed to interpose 
 between me and the delicate little hand extended 
 hesitatingly towards me, and I answered in the 
 calmest tones I could command, 
 
 " Love, beautiful Lilian, is, no doubt, the wine 
 of life, its glory, and its crown of bliss; but 
 once felt, it never can be renewed ; we have both 
 loved much, and we have both lost the object 
 loved ; does this not show you that love is never 
 to be completely realised on this earth ? We must 
 therefore guard ourselves, in this world, where so
 
 PART THE FIRST. 115 
 
 much is to be done, from alloTs-ing it to engross 
 our thoughts, and enfeeble our characters, 
 and — " I stopped short in the very middle 
 of the rather ')nal d, propos course of philosophical 
 reflections into which I had been driven as a 
 refuge from my own feelings ; by the tears which 
 now fairly overflowed the eyes of my fair 
 companion, and bedewed the roses on her lovely 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried she, *' how you must despise me, 
 you so wise and strong — so far removed above 
 all earthly weaknesses — whilst I — alas ! Oh ! 
 Lord Carlton, I T^dsh you would teach me to 
 imitate you, to be cold and wise, to still the beat- 
 ings of my heart, and to fear nothing on earth, 
 but to do wrong ; and wish for nothing but the 
 heaven beyond." 
 
 Could anything be more calculated than this 
 request to show me how ill-fitted I was to play 
 the part of Mentor to so sweet a pupil ? She 
 asked me to teach her calmness, while my own 
 heart beat high, and my pulses throbbed with 
 excitement, and I felt with E-omeo that there was 
 *' more peril in her eye than in twenty of their 
 swords." 
 
 Flight was impossible ; what excuse could I 
 make for leaving her ? The temptation was too 
 great, and her uncle might be detained at his 
 club for hours to come. A pause ensued, fraught 
 with danger for me ; at last she timidly placed her
 
 ii6 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 hand on mine as if to attract my attention, and 
 '*Why do you not reply," she said in a voice 
 scarcely above a whisper, " are you afraid to 
 undertake so inapt a scholar ? " 
 
 " No," cried I, almost driven from my defences ; 
 "but I fear that the pupil would become the 
 master — the master the too willing slave. Oh, 
 
 lovely Lilian ! " What more I should have 
 
 said I know not, but certainly what I should have 
 repented of in a more sober mood ; but at that 
 moment she seemed to fade from my view, as a 
 heavy vapour filled the room, and interposed be- 
 tween me and her fair face. A strong odour 
 of smoke at the same time was perceived. 
 
 " Good heavens ! what is this ? " cried I, start- 
 ing up, and feeling as if awaking from a dream. 
 
 But she, much more engrossed by her feelings, 
 did not seem to be aware of anything unusual, and 
 keeping her hand on mine, " Tis nothing," she 
 said, — " nothing ; smoke in the next room, per- 
 haps. . . . Call me Lilian again ; I like it. It 
 seems as if you did really take some interest in 
 me when you call me thus." 
 
 But at that moment confused noises sounded 
 in the passage, in which the fearful cry, " Fire ! " 
 — too often heard in America — predominated, and 
 a man rushing into the room exclaimed, 
 
 " The hotel is inflames.^'
 
 XIII. 
 
 *' Hbrt ihr's -svimmern hoch vom Thurm? 
 
 Das ist Sturm ! 
 Eoth, -wie Blut, 
 
 Ist der Himmel, 
 Das ist nicht des Tages Glut ! 
 
 Welch' Getummel 
 Straszen auf ! 
 
 Dampf wallt auf ! 
 Flackernd steigt die Feuersaule 
 
 Durch der Strasze lange Zeile 
 "Wachst es fort mit Windeseile, 
 
 Kochend, wie aus Ofens Rachen, 
 Oliih'n die Liiste, Balken krachen, 
 
 Pfosten sturzen, Fenster klirren, 
 Kinder gammem, Mutter uren, 
 
 Thiere ■wrnimern 
 Unter Triimmem, 
 Alles reDnet, rettet, flUclitet, 
 
 Taghell ist die Xacht gelichtet ; 
 Durch der Hiinde lange Kette 
 Um die "Wette 
 
 Fhegt der Elmer, hoch im Bogen 
 Spritzen Quellen Wasserwogen. 
 
 Heulend kommt der Sturm geflogen, 
 Der die Flamme brausend sucht. 
 
 Prasselnd in die diirre Fmcht 
 Fallt sie, in des Speichers Eaume, 
 
 In der Sparren diirre Baume, 
 TJnd als wollte sie im "Wehen 
 
 Mit sich fort der Erde TTucht 
 Reiszen in gewalt' ger Flucht, 
 
 "Wachst sie in des Hhnmels Hohen
 
 ii8 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Kiesengrosz ! 
 
 Hoffnungslos 
 Weiclit der Mensch der Giitterstiirke, 
 
 Miiszig sieht er seine Werke 
 Und bewundernd untergehen." 
 
 Schiller. 
 
 I BUSHED from the room, whilst Lilian, half-faint- 
 ing, followed me, still holding by my arm. 
 
 The scene that met our eyes as we stepped into 
 the corridor soon told ns the dreadful truth. The 
 hotel was in flames. Nobody knew how ; nobody 
 seemed in that awful moment to think of any- 
 thing but personal safety. The passages, gene- 
 rally deserted at that late hour of the night, were 
 now crowded with half-dressed men and fainting 
 ladies, all running to and fro in the wildest 
 excitement. 
 
 Here a young mother was lifting her new-born 
 babe over her head, as if to save him from the 
 flames which she thoue^ht would devour him. A 
 little farther a young lady, her face worn with 
 recent suffering, her arms folded closely upon her 
 breast, was carried by a man of middle age, pro- 
 bably her father. On the other side, two young 
 lovers stood still against the wall, waiting in each 
 other's arms, for the death which they thought 
 inevitable; whilst hither and thither, in every 
 direction, little children were rushing wildly 
 about, who, in the excitement of the moment, 
 had been separated from their parents. 
 
 Thick clouds of smoke half-veiled the scene.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 119 
 
 jvealino: here and there some touchinsj iucident 
 
 f blank despair or devoted love. 
 The usurer pressing his gold to his heart, — the 
 liiother clasping her child, which*' she had but just 
 •roused from its quiet sleep, — the servants of the 
 hotel draororinoj the furniture about, — excited 
 groups, too agitated to know what to do ; such 
 were the scenes which met our eyes as we stepped 
 into the wide corridor outside our room. 
 
 Lilian, still grasping my arm, and white as 
 death, stood motionless by my side. I looked at 
 her in silence, not one trace of love or even of 
 affection could I now see in her lovelv face, which 
 an instant before had been so idealised by that 
 heavenly passion ; nothing but selfish fear could 
 now be traced upon her perfect features. I 
 trembled as I made this observation. I trembled, 
 but it was with pleasure ; and my first impulse was 
 to raise a prayer of thanksgiving that the fatal 
 temptation was now at an end. Thank God, the 
 fire had come to my rescue, for who knows what 
 the next moment would have brought forth ; but 
 the fatal spell was now broken, and I felt safer 
 amidst the flames than I had done an instant 
 previously under the spell of her soft blue eyes. 
 
 As this feeling of relief passed through my 
 mind, I fancied I felt the pressure of a cold lip 
 against my burning brow. Could it have been 
 my angel Conchita ? But I had no time to re- 
 flect — the most uro^ent thinoc now was to save our 
 
 o o
 
 120 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 lives if possible ; surely the numerous staircases 
 could not all have been burnt in such a short 
 time! Taking the half-fainting Lilian in my 
 arms, I made my way as best I could through 
 the dense crowd till I reached the head of the 
 great marble staircase with my fair burden. 
 
 This was safe enough, but it was full of police, 
 and firemen carrying hose and water-pipes. It 
 seemed impossible that in so short a time all this 
 commotion could have arisen ; the fire-engines 
 were there already, and had been playing from 
 almost the first moment upon the hotel, and to 
 my astonishment the greatest order prevailed 
 amongst the hotel servants and the firemen, who 
 filled every corner of the hall and diff'erent stair- 
 cases. 
 
 But even from this spot we could hear the 
 cries of anguish from the people up -stairs, and 
 from the more distant corridors. 
 
 Flames as yet there were none to be seen, but 
 the smoke was very dense. I asked where the 
 fire originated ; no one knew, but the thick 
 volumes of smoke which surrounded us were 
 proof enough of the terrible reality. 
 
 '' I think we shall have time to save some- 
 thing," I said to Lady Leigh. 
 
 " Oh, no," she cried, pressing my arm con- 
 vulsively, " Oh, no, save me — save me, I only 
 want to live ; I care for nothing else but life — 
 life ! Surely they won't let us perish in this way ! "
 
 PART THE FIRST 121 
 
 "Nonsense, Lady Leigh/' I said more bluntly 
 than politely, '' as yet the danger is not so great; 
 you have jewels of value — Tre must save those at 
 least — Trhere are they ? " 
 
 " In my room ; but surely you Tvon't leave me 
 alone here — Save me ! save me ! — Take me 
 out of the hotel, and then do what you like with 
 my jewels. Here are my keys — take them — 
 save me, Lord Carlton, and then do what you 
 will!" she exclaimed, as she put a bunch of 
 keys into my hand. 
 
 Not one thought for me ! Could she really 
 love me when in this supreme hour she only 
 thought of herself ? I shuddered, and yet I was 
 not displeased. It was a relief to know that I 
 owed her nothing. 
 
 After some hesitation on her part, and much 
 persuasion on mine, she decided to return to her 
 apartments, and save something if possible. 
 
 There upon the table lay the supper untouched, 
 just as we had left it. I made Lilian drink a 
 glass of champagne, which re^dved her a little, 
 and then we hastily proceeded to pack. ' 
 
 Professor Farren came into the room at that 
 moment ; he had heard in his club of the fire, 
 and hastened as fast as he could to the hotel, 
 which, however, he had had some difficulty in 
 entering, as all the doors were guarded by the 
 police. 
 
 He helped us to pack ; one of the hotel
 
 122 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 managers came kindly to tell us that we should 
 have time to save everything if the wind would 
 only remain in the same quarter. 
 
 Lady Leigh, who five minutes before wanted 
 to fly and leave everything behind, was now for 
 taking everything away with her. Her French 
 maid was so terrified that she proved of very 
 little use, but the Professor and I got some of her 
 trunks, and began to throw everything in as fast 
 as we possibly could, and I told my man to go 
 and pack my things, so as not to lose any time. 
 
 " Oh dear me, what shall we do ? — Oh, 
 Lord Carlton, don't forget that dress — the blue 
 dress just behind you — and my tulle dress in the 
 other wardrobe. — Take care, uncle, you are 
 treading on my favourite opera-cloak. — Oh ! Lord 
 Carlton, who would ever have thought that we 
 should have come to this ! I'll never go to an 
 hotel again — if I am not burnt to cinders before 
 I leave this." 
 
 And with these, and many other exclamations, 
 the lovely widow, beautiful in her despair, threw 
 her rich dresses on the ground one after another, 
 while her maid, terrified out of her very senses, 
 lay swooning in the arm-chair by the side of the 
 , fire-place. 
 
 Torrents of water now came pouring down from 
 the ceiling, and added greatly to the general con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Lady Leigh, more frightened than ever, was at
 
 PART THE FIRST. 123 
 
 her wits' end to save lier dresses from the pelting 
 shower. 
 
 " Oh, uncle, just tell them not to play the 
 engines over us — ^how disagreeable of them to 
 throw so much water over people's rooms — oh 
 my pink dress — my poor pink dress 1 it only 
 came the day before yesterday from Paris — I shall 
 go wild — " and the lovely widow threw herself 
 on the sofa, dissolved in tears, whilst the water 
 kept pouring down upon us in torrents. 
 
 The packing was finished at last, and with the 
 greatest difiiculty we managed to shut the trunks 
 and carry them to the floor below. 
 
 Here the most ridiculous as well as the most 
 dramatic scenes awaited us, for the most serious 
 things in life have often their comic side. Here 
 were the disconsolate managers looking most panic- 
 struck ; and women in the depths of despair, ring- 
 ing their hands; there were young ladies half- 
 dressed, who, in their hurry, had forgotten their 
 chignons, and sundry other adornments, with- 
 out which they presented the most laughable 
 appearance. Half- dressed dandies, with their 
 wigs the wrong side before, and middle-aged 
 ladies without any wigs at all. But no one 
 seemed to perceive all these things, for people 
 only thought of themselves and their belongings 
 at that moment. 
 
 In the midst of these scenes we remained for 
 half-an-hour, waiting to learn the progress the
 
 124 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 fire was making, or with what success the firemen 
 were putting out the flames, before we made up 
 our minds to rush into the cold street outside the 
 hotel; but ready to fly at the slightest signal of 
 real danger given by the men above. 
 
 The fire was raging at the top of the house in 
 the servants' quarters, several of whom, it was 
 whispered, had already perished in the flames ; for 
 unfortunately the staircase leading to their rooms 
 had been burnt before they were even aware of 
 the fire ; and the windows opening on the roof 
 of the hotel had strong iron gratings before them. 
 This proved to be only too true — half the servant 
 girls already reduced to cinders, lay in an 
 undistinguishable heap on the upper floors — let 
 us only hope that the smoke had sufl'ocated 
 before the flames had had time to reach and 
 consume them.* 
 
 The poor servants who had escaped — Irish 
 girls the greater part — had come down into the 
 hall and corridors, the only places that were con- 
 sidered safe, and this was the saddest sight of 
 all. Nearly every one of those poor women had 
 lost a sister, a daughter, or a friend, and even 
 those who had been fortunate enough to escape, 
 had lost their savings, their little all. Their 
 despair may well be imagined. There they all 
 crowded in numbers, with bare feet and wrapped 
 in the blankets and sheets from their beds, the 
 
 * Too true ! alas !
 
 PART THE FIRST 125 
 
 only covering they had been able to save from the 
 all-consuming flames. There they were, all close 
 together, looking the very picture of misery and 
 despair ; and their cries were heard all over the 
 place, making the sad scene still more terrible. 
 I managed, after some time, to go upstairs to the 
 very top of the house. Only one side of the great 
 handsome building had been destroyed. 
 
 This was owing, no doubt, to the wind which 
 fortunately kept all night in the same quarter, 
 but more still to the wonders worked by the New 
 York firemen, who, no doubt, are the best in the 
 world. Their organisation as a body, their 
 discipline, and their courage were indeed beyond 
 all praise, as any one can testify who has 
 witnessed a fire in the United States ; and theii* 
 engines and appUances are the best I have ever 
 seen. 
 
 I helped them as well as I could to extinguish 
 the last remains of the fire, whilst the Professor 
 remained with Lady Leigh on the first floor of 
 the hotel. 
 
 The whole night was passed in this way, and 
 when at last day dawned, and the sun gilded the 
 tops of the numerous spires of New York the 
 next morning, it revealed to us all the horrors of 
 the past night. 
 
 We had new rooms assigned to us in the hotel 
 on twenty-third street side ; for we thought it 
 would be hard to abandon the poor hotel just
 
 126 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 after its misfortunes, as the great majority of the 
 inmates did ; but the horrors of that dreadful 
 night were always before our eyes, ft was 
 impossible to forget those poor servant girls 
 roasted alive in their very beds, and the cries of 
 agony of their companions as they lay on the cold 
 hall of the hotel, unable to realise all their 
 misfortunes. We remained in the Fifth Avenue 
 Hotel until we embarked in the first steamer 
 which left for the Havana, and soon afterwards 
 quitted New York and the United States for a 
 more genial climate at this cold season of the 
 year.
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Thou paragon of elemental powers, 
 Mystery of waters — never slumbering sea ! 
 Impassioned orator, with lips sublime, 
 "Whose waves are arguments which prove a God ! " 
 
 R. Montgomery. 
 
 The day for our departure arrived at last, and 
 the American steamer " City of Havana " was 
 awaiting us at the wlfarf near Castle Garden. 
 
 Of course there was a great deal of delay 
 before we could leave the hotel. Lilian's dresses 
 not having been made, so to speak, with a view 
 to travelling, her French maid was in a greater 
 *' fix " than ever, how to pack without squeezing 
 and crumpling them, which, indeed, seemed a 
 problem never to be solved. Professor Farren 
 was very fidgetty and impatient, which did not 
 make matters easier, as Lilian thought fit to go 
 into hysterics, calling herself the most ill-treated 
 of women, and the Professor the most hard- 
 hearted of uncles. 
 
 But in spite of all these little misfortunes, we 
 were out of the hotel at last, and the colossal 
 trunks of the fair enslaver, who with their con- 
 tents intended to conquer all the Havanese hearts,
 
 128 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 were brought out with immense difficulty on ac- 
 count of their enormous proportions, and placed 
 on the top of the carriage. 
 
 And this was the most extraordinary vehicle 
 I have ever seen. It was a carriage — and yet 
 no, it was an omnibus — no — it was a carriage, 
 but what a carriage! I do not think that even 
 that wondrous contrivance in which Richelieu 
 used to travel during the latter years of his life, 
 could have borne comparison with this vehicle. 
 There was room inside for ten people ; and yet to 
 look at, it was only a square carriage like any 
 other, in everything but size, and in this respect 
 certainly it was different, f6r it actually seemed 
 constructed for giants, half a dozen of whom could 
 have sat comfortably in it, if such persons are com- 
 fortable, which I doubt ; for I know how much I 
 suffer with my comparatively small prison-house, 
 so that I can easily imagine how much more they 
 must have to endure with their colossal frames. 
 
 Outside this carriage were placed the trunks, 
 one on the top of the other, until they literally 
 reached the height of the first floor. When every- 
 thing was ready, and Lilian had taken her place 
 in the very remotest corner of the carriage still in 
 a very bad humour, and the Professor had settled 
 himself in another corner with his head right out 
 of the window ; I suppose to be as far from his 
 niece as he possibly could, we started. The snow 
 ^as coming down thick and fast, and the streets
 
 PART THE FIRST. 129 
 
 were white with it — I mean black, for snow has 
 the peculiar property, somehow or other, of be- 
 coming black as soon as it touches the pavement 
 of a town. It was freezing hard, and the news- 
 boys in Broadway were sliding to their heart's 
 content, and to the annoyance of their natural 
 enemies the policemen on either side, which of 
 course made the pavement as shppery as it is 
 possible for stones to be, which is a great deal too 
 much at times ; and the ladies who were shoj)ping 
 in and out of the different stores, as I believe 
 women were born to do, did nothing but slip, 
 and slide, and drop their newly-purchased articles 
 in the gutters, to the great delight of the little 
 beggars and boot -blacks. 
 
 When we arrived at the wharf, we found the 
 steamer just ready to start, and all the passengers 
 on board ; and we were only too glad to take 
 shelter in the cabin, lea^Tino; the luo-o-aore, and in- 
 numerable hand-bags and baskets, to the care of 
 the servants, to the gxeat disgust of the Professor, 
 who of course predicted they would be all left 
 behind— which prophecy, however, happily for 
 us, was never fulfilled. 
 
 The state cabin was in great confusion, and the 
 negro servants kept running to and fro as if they 
 had. suddenly been seized ^^ith a desire of being 
 useful, and did not know how. 
 
 The passengers, of course, ran the first thing to 
 take their places at the table, which seems to be 
 
 I. I
 
 130 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 the principal and most important thing to do 
 when you enter a steamer. Our places had been 
 kept for us beforehand, beside the captain at the 
 head of the table, where I was happy to see 
 written on three little cards — Lady Leigh, Lord 
 Carlton, and Professor Farren. As we had no- 
 thing particular to do, and the deck was impos- 
 sible, on account of the snow and cold, and in- 
 numerable icicles which hung from the rigging 
 like fanciful silver fringes, we sat down in our 
 respecti^^e places before the long table. This was 
 covered from one end to the other with bouquets 
 and baskets of flowers, but flowers the most 
 beautiful, and arranged as only Boston florists 
 can arrange them, in the most fantastic of shapes, 
 forming boats, steamers, light-houses, castles, 
 &c., &c. As these expensive articles could not 
 possibly belong to the captain, it was soon ascer- 
 tained that they belonged to one of the pas- 
 sengers. I say one, because the same name was 
 written on the card which accompanied each of 
 them — and this name was — Miss de Fison. 
 
 In America it is the custom, when ladies are 
 going on a sea-voyage, for the gentlemen of their 
 acquaintance to send flowers and fruits to the 
 steamers before starting ; but this, of course, is 
 only done to great belles, for no man would be so 
 stupid as to send bouquets to old or ugly women, 
 unless, indeed, these were great millionaires, or 
 rich widows, which of course would alter the case.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 131 
 
 We therefore arrived at the conclusion that this 
 Miss de Fison must be the most beautiful and 
 charming of young ladies, unless, indeed, she was 
 a frightful old maid with a great fortune, from 
 the far West, which was Lilian Leigh's opinion. 
 
 Sitting by my side at the table there was 
 a very finely developed lady, who might easily 
 have passed for a show-woman, if she had been 
 dressed in short petticoats and tights, which, 
 however, she was not ; and three young ladies, 
 her daughters, on the same scale as their mamma, 
 who also looked in very good condition. They 
 talked Spanish. 
 
 Opposite to lis, and at the same table, there 
 was a very thin, very tall, and very spare-looking 
 old maid, with a little boy on either side of her, 
 whom she certainly kept in the best order by 
 giving them a thump now and then. Beside her 
 sat another lady, who might have been of any age, 
 and who looked very miserable indeed, just as if 
 she had quite made up her mind to be ill all the 
 voyage, and who I am sure was suffering already, 
 in her imagination, from all the horrors of sea- 
 sickness. There were also two gentlemen at the 
 other end of the cabin, who looked very grave and 
 solemn, and a lady, with four unruly children, 
 who were as many as she could possibly manage 
 on land, and who very soon began to get the 
 better of her at sea. And I must not forget a 
 stout old gentleman, who talked very loud, and a
 
 132 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 younger one, in a gorgeous travelling suit, and 
 another, who had put on at once the cool costume 
 which he had thought necessary for the tropics, 
 and did nothing but shiver and blow his hands, 
 looking very foolish, indeed, in his white linen 
 trowsers and large Panama hat. 
 
 These were our fellow-passengers, — at least 
 those that were in the cabin at the time, for the 
 great swells kept to themselves in their state 
 cabins, and were, I suppose, engaged in beautify- 
 ing for dinner. The rest were on deck, in spite 
 of all the snow and the icicles, saying farewell to 
 their friends on the pier. 
 
 Miss de Fison was, of course, the great topic of 
 conversation, and I could see that she was not a 
 favourite with the ladies ; none of whom, by-the- 
 by, had yet seen her. 
 
 " She must be a very fast young lady, indeed," 
 said one of the blooming daughters, in Spanish, 
 which she thought no one could understand. 
 
 " It is my opinion," said the mamma, " that 
 she has sent all these flowers herself to call atten- 
 tion to her." 
 
 All the three daughters seemed quite to coincide 
 with this opinion, and remained silent once more. 
 
 As we did not know each other no one dared 
 to speak, and an oppressive silence reigned, which 
 made every whispered word audible throughout 
 the cabin, and consequently turned all the faces 
 to the speaker, who invariably turned red, and
 
 PART THE FIRST. I33 
 
 suddenly forgot all that he was going to say. 
 This state of thinors did not lead to much socia- 
 
 o 
 
 bility, and Lilian, w^ho was sitting by me, said in 
 my ear, that " they were all very stupid, and a 
 very second-class set of people, if one might judge 
 from their appearance." 
 
 Suddenly the lady opposite to me, the one who 
 had made up her mind to be sea-sick, called one 
 of the stewards, which, of course, attracted the 
 attention of all the passengers, and for the moment 
 she became the ffreat centre of attraction. 
 
 " Waiter," she said, in a very shrill tone, and 
 speaking through her nose, " take away those 
 flowers, if you please, or I guess they'll make me 
 sick right away." 
 
 If a thunderbolt had suddenly dropped on deck 
 a greater surprise could not have been produced 
 than by those words. There was something so 
 dreadful in the alternative, that even the black 
 steward began to fear the consequences if he failed 
 to obey the command. Yet he stood motionless 
 in the middle of the cabin, exhibitinsf his beauti- 
 ful double row of teeth in dumb astonishment. 
 
 " Do you hear ? " said the delicate lady, seeing 
 that her first order had not been obeyed. "Do 
 you hear ? Oh take them right away do, or I 
 calculate — " 
 
 The poor steward did not wait to hear what 
 she calculated, taking it for granted that it must 
 be something very dreadful, but forthwith began
 
 134 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 to clear the table. A gentleman now came up 
 and inquired wliy lie was taking away his 
 daughter's flowers, which, of course, made him at 
 once the object of general attention, and we all 
 fixed our eyes on Mr de Fison, who was a portly 
 gentleman who seemed to have started out of the 
 cabin floor when his daughter's flowers beoran to 
 be removed, for we had never seen him before. 
 
 " If you please," he said, " leave them alone ; or 
 Miss de Fison will be very angry." 
 
 The steward trembled when he heard this, it 
 was said in such a commanding tone, and all the 
 passengers were impressed from that moment with 
 Miss de Fison's importance, who, I am sure, they 
 all took to be a perfect ogress, whose displeasure 
 would be fatal to the ship's safety. And the old 
 maid, with the little boys, fixed her green 
 spectacles upon the worthy father of this terrible 
 lady, and never removed her gaze until he was 
 out of the cabin. 
 
 The delicate lady now began again. "Take 
 all these flowers away — take them away or 
 I'll be ill. — Jonathan, she said," calling the 
 stout gentleman, at the other end of the cabin, 
 who now approached us, " Jonathan, tell this 
 feUow to take those nasty flowers away — you 
 know I can't bear them — they come from 
 Boston," she added, as if this was the very worst 
 thing she could possibly say of them. " They 
 come from Boston ! "
 
 PART THE FIRST 
 
 03 
 
 The stout gentleman seemed to be struck with 
 this terrible truth, and called back the bewildered 
 steward, who was sneaking away. 
 
 " Take all these things away, sir ; why don't 
 you do what the lady tells you. — Damme, sir, 
 you'll take them all away, right away, or — " 
 
 The poor man began once more to remove the 
 flowers to another table, but he was stopped by 
 the captain, who looked very indignant when 
 he was told what had happened, and ordered the 
 negro to bring all the flowers back again to their 
 places. A great discussion now arose between the 
 stout gentleman and the captain, which ended in 
 the delicate lady taking her husband's arm, and 
 ascending to the deck, where they remained all 
 the rest of the day, bravely encountering the 
 snow and the wind which was now worse than 
 ever, rather than to inhale the delicate perfume 
 of the Boston rosebuds. 
 
 This, of course, settled the position of the De 
 Fisons on board, everybody being now quite 
 convinced of their importance, and even the 
 Spanish family changed their minds about them, 
 and the genuineness of their bouquets. 
 
 I was, of course, very anxious to see the great 
 belle, but my wishes were not so easily to be 
 gratified. Dinner came, just when we were 
 starting, and was a very long afi*air, but at which 
 JVI^ss de Fison did not make her appearance. 
 
 The captain was called several times from
 
 136 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 table, the ice being very thick in the bay, and 
 the steamer obliged to cut her way through it to 
 get out into the open sea. Grapes and 
 champagne were sent, with compliments, from 
 some of the passengers to Miss de Fison, who 
 had a cabin on deck. Towards desert, the maid 
 of this young lady made her appearance, and 
 told one of the gentlemen, with her mistress's 
 compliments, that she wanted some cheese salad, 
 having been told it was the best thing for sea 
 sickness. 
 
 The salad was instantly put in hand, and 
 a wonderful dish it proved to be, a mixture of all 
 imaginable condiments, and the last thing I 
 should have recommended for sea-sickness ; but 
 when it was finished, the maid took it up, and 
 after a few minutes, again made her appearance, 
 but this time with a beautiful Boston bud, which 
 she presented to the gentleman who had made the 
 salad. This special mark of favour seemed to 
 make all the other men jealous, for they looked 
 at him very savagely, and began forthwith to 
 make strange dishes for the young beauty, which 
 were afterwards sent up to her with each gentle- 
 man's compliments. 
 
 Mr de Fison did not seem to take much part 
 in all these proceedings, but ate his dinner, talk- 
 ing only to the captain, and this at rare intervals. 
 Lady Leigh was more cross now than before, and , 
 did not at all think it right that so much attention
 
 PART THE FIRST. I37 
 
 should be paid to this Miss de Fison when she 
 was there ; and the Spanish lady turned her head 
 in disgust, whenever that young lady's name was 
 mentioned, which was pretty often, I must 
 confess, and gazed at the three daughters before 
 her, who were such perfect specimens of feminine 
 health and beauty. 
 
 Strange to say I found myself enjopng all this 
 in spite of myself. How different it all seemed 
 to me from my last sea voyage, when I could 
 think of nothino; but mv misfortuues, and felt as 
 lonely as if I had been in Sahara's desert, in the 
 midst of nearly a thousand fellow passengers ! 
 
 But in this little steamer I no longer felt 
 lonely, and I found myself, to my great astonish- 
 ment, not only taking an interest in what was 
 going on, but actually amused by it ; and that 
 evening I dreamt of Miss de Fison surrounded by 
 her boats and castles of Boston roses, as I slept 
 in the cabin next to that invisible belle. 
 
 The next two days were very windy and 
 rough, and it snowed all the time ; until at last, 
 on the second night, we passed Cape Hatteras, the 
 end, but also the climax of all our troubles. 
 
 Miss de Fison had not made her appearance 
 yet, but some of the more fortunate passengers 
 had been favoured with an occasional sight of 
 her, for she condescended to receive a few in her 
 cabin, the passage in front of which, was in con- 
 sequence, day and night, crowded with gentle-
 
 •138 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 men, anxiously awaiting a summons from tlie 
 fair enslaver. 
 
 In the meantime I had made friends with Mr 
 de Fison, whom I found to be a very congenial, 
 generous, and convivial person, and a great 
 favourite on board. Whether his daughter had 
 anything to do with his popularity, I could not tell, 
 but I could not help thinking, sometimes, that 
 if he had been alone, he would not have been 
 half so much sought after, notwithstanding his 
 amiability. And he was very amiable indeed, 
 and sent his champagne round the table, and 
 grapes to the ladies, of which species of fruit, 
 by the by, he seemed to have brought a perfect 
 cargo. 
 
 Lady Leigh also got a great deal of attention 
 paid to her, but it was only by those unfavoured 
 men who could get no invitation to Miss de 
 Fison's state cabin. 
 
 Ever since we left New York we had been 
 racing with another steamer, the " City of New 
 Orleans," which was bound for that port ; and I 
 even believe that there was a heavy bet put on 
 the winner by the respective companies, so that 
 we seemed to fly over the water after that ship 
 which had left the mouth of the Hudson only 
 about one hour before us. 
 
 When once we had passed Cape Hatteras, and 
 there seemed to be a prospect of good weather, 
 the race became very exciting indeed. Every
 
 PART THE FIRST. 139 
 
 one on board took the greatest interest in it, and 
 our funnel was red-hot with the tremendous 
 pressure of steam on the boiler below. The ex- 
 citement was so great, that eyen Miss de Fison 
 came on deck to look after the rival steamer, 
 which still kept ahead of us. And thus we were 
 at last gratified with a sight of that young lady. 
 
 And she really deserved to be a great belle. 
 She was dark, and had the most magnificent eyes 
 I think I have ever seen, veiled by long drooping 
 eyelashes, through which they sparkled like black 
 diamonds. Her hair, which she then wore hanging 
 down its full length, was very long and glossy, and 
 of a dark brown. As it waved about her, carried 
 here and there by the wind, it looked very charm- 
 ing. Her dress was most beautiful and costly, 
 and I am sure three weeks had not elapsed since 
 it had left the Rue de la Paix. She was very 
 fascinating^ indeed altogether, and would have 
 been perfection, if for one moment she could have 
 forgotten her personal charms ; but, as she sat on 
 deck, stretched out in a large arm-chair, covered 
 with furs, and surrounded by admirers, she posi- 
 tively gave one the idea that to her mind there 
 was nothing worth looking at in this world except 
 a lookinor-oiass. 
 
 The race was now becoming very close indeed. 
 We were certainly gaining ground — I mean water 
 — and the " City of New Orleans " was plainly 
 visible to all of us as a dark object on the
 
 140 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 horizon, amidst the red and gold splendours of 
 that night's sunset. 
 
 The " Sombrero " lighthouse was now in sight, 
 and this must be the decisive point of our long 
 race, for here our rival was going to change her 
 course, so as to steer for the Bay of Mexico, where 
 lay the city of her destination. The object of our 
 captain was to cross her bows, and make her go 
 astern of us to the right, while we were proceed- 
 ing forward to the left. 
 
 Night came on, and brought her uncertain 
 shades and mysterious voices. No one left the 
 deck ; and all eyes were fixed upon the ship before 
 us, which was going full speed across the dim 
 reflection which the clouded moon now and then 
 made upon the tranquil waters. 
 
 Lilian was with her uncle on the prow, where 
 almost all the other passengers were also col- 
 lected, excepting the delicate lady, who was in her 
 cabin very sick indeed ; I suppose, on account of 
 the Boston flowers, from whose effects she had 
 never recovered, for the sea was calm enough, 
 and Miss de Fison, who had retired to the poop, 
 thinking there would be less danger there of new 
 attacks from her numerous admu^ers, and that she 
 would be able to enjoy their society in peace and 
 one of them at a time. 
 
 And yet there was nothing wrong in this, 
 and no one on board, except of course. Lady 
 Leigh, thought the worse of her for it. It was
 
 PART THE FIRST. Hf 
 
 simply the American fashion, and no American 
 could possibly see any harm in it. In Europe 
 people think that when one flirts with a young 
 lady one must necessarily be in love with her ; but 
 what we find the least of in flirtation is love. 
 Woman by nature is a flirt, but her flirting 
 changes both in the mode and in the object, 
 according to the country in which she has been 
 brought up ; and, as Lord Byron says, 
 
 " There are some, they say, who have had none ; 
 But those -who have ne'er end with only one." 
 
 No one must therefore accuse the young 
 American ladies of being inconstant and flighty, 
 for, you may be sure the English would do the 
 very same if they had a chance. 
 
 But all this time we are gaining, jp^^etty con- 
 siderahly, as the Yankies said, on the " City of 
 New Orleans." Our speed increases every mo- 
 ment, and some of the passengers begin to get 
 frightened. The funnel gets redder and redder, 
 and the greatest excitement prevails amongst the 
 sailors. We reach the Sombrero buoy, whose red 
 light warns ns of approaching danger, and we get 
 closer and closer to our rival. We can now see 
 the people on her deck, who appear quite as ex- 
 cited as we are, and some even shout to us. We 
 are close to them, so close that another turn of 
 the screw, one would think, would make us touch, 
 and yet we do not slacken our pace. Full speed 
 we cut through the waves, and the wake of the
 
 142 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 two sliips is lost in one wide stream, in which 
 sparkle the agitated waves with their thousand 
 phosphorescent lights. 
 
 The "City of New Orleans" is gaining now, and 
 seems as if she would run right against us, yet we 
 do not give up, and flash full speed right across 
 her 1)0 ws ! We all begin to feel uneasy at this 
 moment. Lady Leigh has left her uncle, and comes 
 as near to me as she can. The large Spanish lady, 
 with the blooming daughters, who have defied sea- 
 sickness and all the other dangers of the deep, 
 give every now and then little screams of alarm ; 
 we turn so rapidly that the deck is all on one 
 side, and it is with the greatest difficulty that 
 we can keep our legs upon it ; indeed one of the 
 little boys tumbles down, and the thin old maid, 
 who has gone to pick him up, rolls over and over 
 until she reaches the bulwarks. 
 
 Professor Farren goes to the captain and asks 
 him, with a very serious face, whether it would 
 not be advisable to pack up one's things to be 
 ready for any emergency. 
 
 The truth is that our vessel is of wood, and the 
 " City of New Orleans" is of iron, so that if she 
 were to run into us, which now seemed to us 
 our inevitable destiny, we would certainly have 
 the worst of it. 
 
 Miss de Fison now approaches our group and 
 looks anxiously at the dark sea before us, but does 
 not leave off flirting for a moment, and says she
 
 PART THE FIRST. 143 
 
 can swim as well as anybody; to the great dismay 
 of the young gentlemen, some of whom would 
 have thought themselves hap23y for life if they 
 could have saved her in their arms from a horrible 
 death. 
 
 But this was not to be the case, for, Hurrah ! 
 we are past ! we have won the race ! Hurrah ! 
 the " City of New Orleans" is obliged to go astern 
 of us, and turn once more round the buoy before 
 continuingr her westward course. 
 
 A cry of joy and exultation rises on the mid- 
 night air from aU the passengers, and a rocket 
 flies high over our heads in sign of triumph, after 
 which we all retire in silence to our cabins ; ex- 
 cept Miss de Fison, who could not thus cruelly 
 and deliberately break half a dozen manly hearts, 
 and therefore remains an hour or two lono^er walk- 
 ing up and down with the young gentleman in 
 white linen trowsers and laro-e Panama hat, whom 
 it is to be hoped is kept warm by love in spite 
 of his tropical costume.
 
 XV. 
 
 '* We left behind the painted buoy, 
 
 That tossed at the harbour mouth ; 
 And madly danced our hearts with joy, 
 
 As fast we fleeted to the South. 
 How fresh was every sight and sound 
 
 On open main or winding shore ! 
 We knew the merry world was round. 
 
 And we might sail for evermore. 
 
 *' Warm broke the breeze against the brow, 
 Dry sang the tackle, sang the sail ; 
 The lady's head upon the prow 
 
 Caught the shrill salt, and sheered the gale. 
 The broad seas swelled to meet the keel. 
 
 And swept behind ; so swift the run 
 We felt the good ship shake and reel, 
 We seem'd to sail into the sun." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 The next morning we had left the coast of 
 Florida and the Sombrero lighthouse far behind, 
 and were speeding along with all sails set. Our 
 bright expectations of soon seeing the glorious 
 land we were nearing, had quite driven from our 
 minds the excitement of the previous night. 
 
 We had been obliged to break through the ice 
 only three days before, in order to leave New 
 York harbour, and now we were steering our
 
 PART THE FIRST. 145 
 
 vessel through the ever warm waters of the Gulf 
 Stream, which constantly brought to our side the 
 green sea weeds of the bay of Mexico. How 
 Columbus must have welcomed these poor but 
 cheering specimens of tropical vegetation, which 
 first announced to him the proximity of the new 
 world he sought, and' which seemed to give him 
 the first greeting to the land he was so soon 
 destined to discover ! 
 
 The very air seems to bring new life to our 
 being ; the soft voluptuous breeze of the tropics 
 blows gently over our heads, wafting us through 
 the waters of the Gulf Stream towards that land 
 of promise — the Pearl of the Antilles. 
 
 The sun, the stars, the moon, seem to have in- 
 creased in size; the ethereal vault of heaven 
 seems deeper, grander, more diaphanous, more 
 splendid ; one can even appreciate in this clear 
 atmosphere the distance which sej)arates one 
 heavenly body from another. The bright trans- 
 parent clouds seem to hang as awnings over our 
 heads, thus preserving us from the scorching rays 
 of an ever-burning sun, but which, however, 
 shines through them, adorning them with the 
 vivid colours of the rainbow. The sky above our 
 heads appears as a vault of pellucid sapphire 
 seen through a veil of golden gauze, while the 
 sea below us shines as millions of emeralds as we 
 seem to fly over these dazzling waters. 
 
 At night the pure bright moon of the tropics 
 
 I. K
 
 146 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 smiles in all her splendour over the immense 
 plains of Florida, which she reflects upon the 
 tranquil waves as upon a mirror of Venetian 
 glass. As we lean over the vessel's stem watch- 
 ing the ship's wake, sparkling with the phos- 
 phorescent lights, one feels the strongest desire to 
 plunge into the ever-shining waves, and become 
 a part of that luminous whole. 
 
 That morning Dr Farren and I were leaning 
 over the stern, watching the indefatigable sharks, 
 as they sported with the waves in their race 
 alongside the vessel through the green waters, 
 and amusing ourselves by throwing them biscuits, 
 which they instantly devoured with all the avidity 
 of wild beasts. 
 
 " What short work they would make of us if 
 we were unfortunate enough to fall overboard ! " 
 I remarked, as an enormous fellow a little swifter 
 than the others swallowed a large piece of bread 
 I had just thrown amongst them. 
 
 "You may well say so. Lord Carlton," an- 
 swered the learned professor ; " those sharks are 
 the most voracious creatures known, and the 
 most dreaded enemies of the sailor. You were 
 suggesting the possibility of being eaten by one 
 of them, which I must say is not so very un- 
 likely ; but if such were to be our fate, what 
 would become of the soul you suppose we pos- 
 sess ? In less than an hour we would have be- 
 come part of the shark's body. Surely this fact
 
 PART THE FIRST. 147 
 
 puts at once an end to your extravagant theory 
 concerning tlie immortal spirit which you say 
 dwells in man ! " 
 
 " I cannot say that I see your argument It 
 is true that our bodies, or rather the particles of 
 matter of which they are composed, would go 
 to form parts of the shark's organisation, but our 
 individuality can never be united to that of 
 another animal," 
 
 " Your argument only strengthens my theory. 
 I do not pretend that the man's individuality is 
 united to that of the shark, as you express it, for 
 I take it that this individuality ceases at the 
 moment of death. A man is a certain quantity 
 of material atoms put together for a certain time 
 and for a certain purpose. When the atoms are 
 divided, and the organisation disorganised, life 
 must necessarily cease, and with it the man's in- 
 dividuality." 
 
 " I cannot imderstand," I answered, " how any 
 one can possibly believe that there is nothing in 
 man but a certain quantity of material atoms 
 formed into an organisation which, once made, is 
 able to work quite by itself until, for some reason 
 or other, something happens which stops the 
 working of the machine, thus putting an end to 
 the body and the individual at the same time. I 
 remember, doctor," I said, after a while, " that 
 the other day, talking of the existence of a Creator, 
 you said that you had been into man v\ith your
 
 148 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 scalpel and your microscope, and that you had 
 found no soul in him. Can it be possible that 
 you do not believe we possess a soul at all \ " 
 
 *' I should like to know," he said, " first of all, 
 what you call a soul." 
 
 " I call a man's soul his spirit, his inner self, 
 his mind — that immaterial part of our nature that 
 thinks. Surely it is impossible to speak of ideas 
 as of material objects '? Therefore what produces 
 them I hold to be spiritual, this I call the soul of 
 
 a man." 
 
 " In this I do not agree with you ; what you 
 call soul is only — as I have often told you — the 
 peculiar property of the matter which forms the 
 brain, on which it is entirely dependent, and from 
 which it alone proceeds. The mind is dependent 
 on the state of the brain, the same as life is de- 
 pendent on the state of tlie body. What you 
 hold to be the spirit of the man must therefore 
 proceed from, and depend entirely on, his mate- 
 rial structure." 
 
 *' Physiologists tell us, however," I suggested, 
 " that our bodies are perpetually undergoing 
 changes, and that at least every seven years we 
 possess quite a new body ; then, how can it be 
 that we are able to remember events that we wit- 
 nessed several years previously, as if they had 
 occurred but yesterday ? If there be no spiritual 
 soul, how can we retain impressions which were 
 stamped upon mere matter, which is constantly
 
 PART THE FIRST, 149 
 
 changing, the matter which formed our minchy 
 and which may now, very likely, form part of 
 some one else's mind ? Is it possible to explain 
 this fact by your materialistic theory ? To do so, 
 it is necessary to suppose that the old matter, 
 which originally received the impressions, re- 
 stamped those upon the new ; and that this pro- 
 cess was repeated every time the molecules of 
 matter were chano-ed : that is to sav, twelve or 
 fifteen times in a life time. But this could not 
 be done, and we remain unconscious of the pro- 
 cess. Surely this is harder to believe than is the 
 theory, that memory is a result of the action of 
 a spiritual element in our nature, which remains 
 essentially the same during its connection with 
 the physical body, the particles of which are con- 
 stantly changing. 
 
 ''To this theory you object, that the body is 
 essential to the mind, without which it could not 
 exist. Surely this is not a reason against it ! 
 The body can be essential to the spirit, and yet 
 it need not be the spirit itself. Without the eye 
 there could be no sensation of vision, and with- 
 out the brain there could be no recollection of 
 ideas ; but neither the optic nerve nor the brain 
 can be considered as the perceptive principle, for 
 they are only the instruments of a superior 
 power. 
 
 " Besides, the brain is not so essential to the 
 powers of thinking and memory as we usually
 
 150 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 suppose. People have been known to live in 
 perfect health, and retaining all their faculties 
 with only one half of their brain left to them. 
 According to your theory, doctor, it will follow 
 that if one part of the brain were missing, the 
 thinking powers of the individual would of course 
 be diminished. But you must be aware that this 
 is not the case, at least not always. You may 
 call such cases exceptional, but they are enough 
 to establish the fact, that the brain is not so 
 essential as we are apt to suppose. If a man can 
 retain all his thinking and remembering powers 
 after losing the half of his brain, can these pro- 
 ceed entirely from that organ ? You must agree, 
 doctor, that there must exist something in man 
 which produces ideas, and which is able to retain 
 the memory of events, infinitely superior to the 
 mere material instrument to which you attribute 
 them. 
 
 " Just suppose for one moment that a savage 
 were to see, for the first time in his life, a large 
 steam-engine stop on account of the stoppage of 
 one of its wheels, he w^ould at once believe that 
 the motive power was in that wheel — he could 
 not guess that it depended more closely on the 
 steam, and ultimately on the fire which produces 
 it. The philosopher sees the fire which produces 
 the steam, but I fear both philosopher and savage 
 are equally ignorant of the divine fire which pro- 
 duces life."
 
 PART THE FIRST 151 
 
 I could see that my pliilosopher, if not quite 
 convinced bj my argument, was at least begin- 
 ning to think about it, weighing it in his mind, 
 as he would have expressed it, against his precon- 
 ceived opinions on the subject. 
 
 " And where do you suppose that this sacred 
 fire, as you call it, dwells ? " he inquired at last 
 with a cynical smile, as he threw a large captain's 
 biscuit at our old friend the big porpoise, who 
 made a grab at it. "In the brain you will say, 
 of course, following Galen's theory ; but in what 
 part of it, in the white globules of matter, or in 
 the grey ones ? I guess you cannot tell me, no 
 more can any one for that matter." 
 
 " You will laugh at me, doctor, I am sure — 
 for, as our valued friend Professor Agassiz said, 
 ' Whenever a new and startling truth is brought 
 to light in science, the world first says. It is not 
 true. Afterwards, It is against religion. And 
 at last it ends by saying. Everybody knew it a 
 long time ago.' But I have a new theory on that 
 subject, which perhaps may prove a startling 
 truth if properly demonstrated." 
 
 *' Oh, let's have it by all means ; only I do not 
 promise you to believe in it all at once, and most 
 likely I shall do as the world does, condemn it 
 directly I hear it." 
 
 " And then say it is against religion ! Con- 
 demn it ! I know you will. Doctor," I answered 
 him, laughing ; "for I know that is just what
 
 152 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 you have made up your mind to do. Ah ! you 
 men of science are all alike ; you take years to 
 believe in a thing, and not one minute to con- 
 demn it. You forget the real mission of science, 
 which is to inquire and not to give opinions at 
 random as to the truth or falsehood of things you 
 know nothing about. My dear friend, Za science 
 riafirme rien, ne nie rien ; la science cherche. 
 But to come back to my new theory, which, by 
 the by, for aught I know, may be as old as the 
 hills, I will just express it in as few words as I 
 possibly can : — 
 
 "You know, Doctor, that philosophers have, 
 ever since the time of Plato, been trying to solve 
 the great problem of the true seat of the soul ; 
 some, as you have just said, following Galen's 
 theory, believe the brain to be the spirit's home. 
 Others, amongst whom we may place Harvey, 
 the immortal discoverer of the circulation of the 
 blood, have supposed the blood to be the seat of 
 the soul ; while others have inferred that the 
 heart must be where the spirit dwells. 
 
 "All these theories have certainly a strong 
 foundation, but would it not be much more 23hilo- 
 sophical to believe that the soul dwells in every 
 part of the material organisation alike ? " 
 
 "Is that your new theory?" exclaimed the 
 Professor, with a laugh. " I cannot say it is a 
 very original one, my dear friend, for even I 
 myself, of all people, have thought about it ; but
 
 PART THE FIRST. 153 
 
 I should like to hear ^vhat reasons you give for it, 
 and upon what extraordinary facts you base it." 
 
 "They are extraordinary facts, indeed, although 
 not at all uncommon. You know, Doctor, that 
 people, when they have suffered amputation of a 
 limb, still feel the sensation of possessing it, and 
 even cold and heat seem to act upon the limb 
 that in reahty lies mouldering in a distant church- 
 yard. I knew a man who had his arm cut off 
 above the elbow ; still he always felt that he pos- 
 sessed both hand and arm, althouo-h these had 
 been removed and buried years before. He swore 
 he could hold his arm up and feel the motion the 
 same as he had always done ; and if he put the 
 stump against the wall, he said he could feel his 
 arm in the other room. 
 
 *' I know of several similar cases, which to me 
 are proof positive that the spirit and the body 
 are of the same shape. I will only tell you of 
 one that Segur, in his famous history of the great 
 army, has recorded. The great historian tells us 
 that amongst the wounded, after the battle of 
 Moskowa — or Borodino, as some call it — there 
 was one, the most mutilated, for he only had left 
 him his body and one arm. He, however, ap- 
 peared so animated, so hopeful, and even so gay, 
 that the surgeons undertook to save him, if 
 possible. As they were carrying him, they 
 remarked that he complained of pain in the limbs 
 Jie no longer possessed. To this S^gur adds : —
 
 154 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 'This is a common case with mutilated people, 
 and appears to me to be a new proof that the 
 soul-body remains entire, and that feeling belongs 
 to it alone, and not to the body, which is as 
 unable to feel as to think.'* 
 
 "Don't you consider this enough proof that 
 there exists a spiritual as well as a material body 
 in man — a material organisation and an inner 
 soul that remains unchanged even after the 
 destruction of the material body with which it 
 was clothed I A part of the material man may be 
 removed by amputation, but the spiritual man 
 still remains the same. Thus it is that a man 
 can feel his limbs, though their material envelope 
 be removed. You will remember that St Paul 
 said to the Corinthians, * There is a natural body, 
 and there is a spiritual hody.'^^ 
 
 " You forget, Lord Carlton," said the Professor, 
 as we walked up and down the deck, " that that 
 extraordinary feeling after amputation of which 
 you speak has been attributed to, and almost 
 proved to be the result of, the sympathy which 
 still exists in the nerves with the limb." 
 
 " I know that such has been the opinion of a 
 great many surgeons, but this theory, like mine, 
 still remains to be proved, and you must bear in 
 mind that I deny nothing, and I assert nothing ; 
 I only speculate, and seek for truth. I am ready 
 to adopt any doctrines which I think true, but 
 
 * Segur's " Histoire de la Grande Armee," Livre VII., chapitre xii.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 155 
 
 until I have proved them beyond doubt to be so, 
 I'll stand up for my theories and opinions." 
 
 " But I have not yet exposed all my thesis, 
 Doctor," I continued, relighting my cigar. " I 
 take man to be composed of three elements — a 
 spiritual soul, clothed in a material organisation 
 made up of oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon, 
 phosphorus, &c., &c., which are put in communi- 
 cation with each other by means of force, a 
 third element, which includes all the numerous 
 forms of motion, to which we give the name of 
 life." 
 
 " How do you make that out ?" exclaimed the 
 professor. 
 
 " Very easily, indeed, as you will see. Dubois 
 Eaymond discovered that ' the muscles and 
 nerves, including the brain and spinal cord, are 
 endow^ed during life with an electro -motive power, 
 which acts according to a definite law.^ Since 
 then galvanic batteries have been formed by plac- 
 ing a certain number of slices of muscle, taken 
 recently from the body of a man in the form of a 
 pile, and such a battery has been found to act 
 upon galvanic instruments, from these and other 
 facts I have concluded th^t what we call life is 
 neither more nor less than electricity." 
 
 "Electricity!" 
 
 " Yes, and why not ? " 
 
 " Because I know the body of man as I know 
 the palm of my hand ; because I have dis-
 
 156 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 sected hundreds, and have never found that elec- 
 tric fluid of which you speak." 
 
 " That is because you have only dissected dead 
 matter, in which, of course, it no longer exists. 
 The wires are still there, but the electric spark 
 which animated the body, putting in motion its 
 various parts, has ceased to How. Nerves are not 
 electricity any more than are telegraph wires. 
 The latter, as the former, are only the medium 
 through which electricity passes. 
 
 " But I must not speak of this great theory 
 without mentioning its discoverer, my friend. 
 Professor Elizabeth French, of Philadelphia, who, 
 in her interesting and scientific book, entitled, 
 * A New Path in Electrical Therapeutics,' gives 
 the following explanation, if I remember rightly, 
 of her doctrine : — 
 
 " ' I would liken the human organism not to a 
 magnet, which has been often done, but to a great 
 natural battery, of which the lungs are the mag- 
 nets, generating the electricity for the whole 
 organism ; the nerves, the wires or conductors ; 
 the heart, the helix or intensifying factor ; the 
 head and feet answering to the positive and nega- 
 tive poles. Conceive that the lungs generate the 
 fluid from the oxygen of the atmosphere, and we 
 have at once a never-failing electric reservoir, in 
 which the slightest perturbation in the current 
 produces, as is well knoAvn, a corresponding dis- 
 turbance in the electric condition of the body.' "
 
 PART THE FIRST. 157 
 
 " Your friend must be a clever woman. I 
 have often heard of her as the discoverer of the 
 cranial diagnosis, but I have never read any of 
 her works." 
 
 " I think, doctor, that if you knew all the pros 
 and cons of this thesis, you would at once accept 
 it as a truth, and only wonder that you never 
 thought of it before. Let me however tell you, 
 that I do not believe electricity to be the gene- 
 rator of Hfe, — the i(;i7Z-principle of the mind. It 
 is merely the messenger, so to speak, which car- 
 ries the telegraphic messages of the mind, and 
 brings back to it the obedient response of the 
 muscles. For the cerebro-spinal nerves, with their 
 dual functions of motion and sensation, provoke 
 the muscles to act, and report faithfully back to 
 the brain the sensation which all such actions have 
 produced. 
 
 " The magnetic force, that thus binds matter 
 and spirit together, putting the soul in direct 
 communication with the body, I should be in- 
 clined to call the vital principle of man. 
 
 " Now, Doctor, tell me frankly, what do you 
 think of my new theory ?" 
 
 Professor Farren was just going to present me 
 wdth his objections to it, when a voice from the 
 bridge over our heads sang out, 
 
 " Cuba is in sight."
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Es la tierra mas hermosa que jamas vieron mis ojos." 
 — Cristobal Colon. 
 
 This, of course, put an end at once to our interest- 
 ing discussion, for we all rushed to the prow of the 
 vessel to get a first glimpse of the mountains of 
 the beautiful and siemprejiel island as they rose 
 above the horizon before us. 
 
 Even Lilian Leigh came out of her cabin, in 
 spite of the early hour, to contemplate the beauti- 
 ful sight ; and Miss de Fison • forgot for one 
 moment her numerous admirers. 
 
 A strong morning breeze wafted us towards 
 the land swiftly and yet smoothly. As the vessel 
 bent under the weight of canvas, we actually 
 seemed to glide over the blue waters, here and 
 there gilded by the rays of the bright morning 
 sun, which shone dazzlingly upon the thousand 
 sails of the innumerable boats we met as we 
 approached that land of promise. 
 
 Cuba is now in full sight. Its hills stand out ' 
 boldly against the azure sky, the Pan de Matanzas, 
 the highest mountain of the island, rising above 
 them all, whilst thousands of tall palm-trees, ever 
 graceful and ever green, cover their sides.
 
 PART THE FIRST 159 
 
 The crystal-like waters dash in orentle waves 
 against the golden sand of the coast, on which we 
 can just see in the distance the town of Matanzas 
 reposing voluptuously bj the sea-side upon a bed 
 of eternal verdure. 
 
 We seem drawn towards the land by some 
 unseen but irresistible power, as the magnet is to 
 the pole. We advance rapidly. AU the pas- 
 sengers — even those who have not made their 
 appearance before — are now grouped on deck in 
 summer costumes, for the tropical sun is hot even 
 in the month of January. 
 
 But there is no time to make any personal 
 observations : the castle of the Fuerza Vieja rises 
 in all its grandeur before us. 
 
 This strong citadel was built by Don Fernando 
 de Soto in 1.544 ; — but we have passed it already. 
 And now the Morro itself, the stronccest fortress 
 of all, presents itself before us. 
 
 The elegant and graceful lighthouse stands 
 upon the grim walls that rise from the very waters 
 below to a considerable heis^ht, whilst the whole 
 is crowned by the Spanish flag. 
 
 Five years have passed since I last saw that 
 gold and crimson banner floatino- over the 
 Alcazar at Seville. Since then, how many scenes 
 have I witnessed ! — how much have I learned 
 and sufi*ered ! The bride whom I there wooed 
 and won, after making me for two years the 
 happiest of men, has floAvn to her original country
 
 i6o THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 beyond the skies, where no flags are needed, and 
 from whence I cannot fetch her back, travel as I 
 will. All these sad thoughts passed through my 
 mind as I contemplated those victorious stripes of 
 gold and crimson which once ruled supreme on 
 this side of the ocean, and upon which the sun 
 never sets. 
 
 We fire a salute to the still proud banner, the 
 noise of which brings me back to the beautiful 
 reality before me, and my dreams of past happi- 
 ness vanish from my mind for the moment, as 
 the smoke of the gunpowder disappears from the 
 glorious blue sky. 
 
 We turn to the right, close to the walls of the 
 Morro castle, at the foot of which the waves dash 
 in spray as we pass. 
 
 And now, what a glorious panorama opens out 
 before us ! the outskirts of the Havana sur- 
 rounded by their laurel groves and forests of 
 palm-trees, whilst the aroma of a thousand 
 tropical flowers is wafted to us by the fresh 
 morning breeze. 
 
 The numerous country houses, with their 
 marble colonnades and orange-trees, take now the 
 place of the grim old castles ; and in the distance 
 the outlines of the blue mountains are painted 
 upon the intensely blue and peaceful sky. 
 
 On the other side of us is the Punta, another 
 strong fort, and the last ; for we now enter the 
 famous bay, and amongst ships of every nation,
 
 PART THE FIRST. i6i 
 
 the numerous masts of whicli seem to fill the air, 
 we discover the walls of the city, inside of which 
 tower up one above the other the roofs of a 
 thousand houses, and the towers of innumerable 
 churches and convents. 
 
 Still we proceed swiftly, gliding as well as we 
 can through the forests of masts. The enormous 
 prison of Tacon — the most conspicuous building 
 we have yet discerned — stands just in front of us, 
 surrounded by forests of orange and laurel trees. 
 
 On the other side of the wide bay the hills of 
 the Cabanas, surmounted by the fortifications of 
 the same name, rise abruptly over the suburbs of 
 Casa Blanca and Regla, famous for their enormous 
 warehouses and tobacco manufactories. 
 
 But who can describe the beauties of this won- 
 drous bay ! Who can take in at a glance all the 
 lovely details of this enchanting picture ! 
 
 We are at anchor at last ; but we cannot land 
 until the Junta de Sanidccd (the sanitary officers) 
 make their appearance ; so we have time to gaze 
 once more on the quaint foreign looking city 
 before us. 
 
 Thick walls of solid stone encircle it, over 
 which are planted shady walks of Indian laurel 
 trees, green now in the middle of winter, as in 
 the hotest of summer months. Under their in- 
 vitingly cool shade, specimens of the numerous 
 and mixed population of Havana are grouped, en- 
 joying the fresh air of the morning. 
 
 I. L
 
 1 62 THR UGH THE A GES. 
 
 Slaves just come from the distant shores of 
 Africa — Free Americans from the nearer United 
 States — Chinamen with their pig-tails and yellow 
 faces — Cuban belles in white muslin dresses, with 
 only a flower in their glossy locks for their entire 
 out-of-door head dress — Dandies in white linen 
 trowsers, black coats, and huge Panama hats — 
 Negresses in low dresses and short sleeves, carry- 
 ing snow-white babies in their black arms, and 
 strongly resembling those figures of ebony and 
 ivory we sometimes see, — such is the crowd which 
 is grouped under the Indian laurel trees in the 
 Cortina de Yaldes. 
 
 The numerous houses which overlook this pro- 
 menade will give us a very fair idea of Creole 
 architecture ; the low arches underneath, the 
 small entre-sol with the little balconies, and the 
 large floor above, with its enormous windows and 
 verandahs. 
 
 The balconies are all open, we can see into the 
 innermost room of every house ; the rooms are all 
 white, with marble floors, the entire furniture of 
 which consists of a few rocking chairs, mth here 
 and there a table and a couch. The apartments 
 are large and cool, and the beautiful young ladies 
 sitting in the rocking chairs by the window side, 
 would tell us how well suited is this style of dolce 
 far niente home for the heat of a tropical climate. 
 
 On the other side we can observe a different 
 phase of Cuban life.
 
 PART THE FIRST, 163 
 
 We perceive the Machina, surrounded by in- 
 numerable vessels of every nation under the sun, 
 which resoi-t here to fetch the wealth of the island. 
 On the quays we see millions of hogsheads, boxes, 
 and bags, on which are written coffee, sugar, cocoa, 
 vanille, indigo, tobacco, &c., while scores of negroes 
 and Chinamen are shipping all these treasures in 
 the various vessels. 
 
 But the Junta de Sanidadj and the custom- 
 house officers, come on board, and, after going 
 through the few necessary formalities, we are at last 
 told that we are free to land. 
 
 The fleet of Httle gondolas, steamers, and fairy- 
 boats which surround us is increased at every 
 moment. Each hotel sends its boat to meet every 
 steamer that comes into the harbour ; and large 
 barges full of tropical fruits are also grouped 
 around the vessel, tempting us with the beauty 
 and fragrance of their cargoes. 
 
 At last General Herbert, the American Consul, 
 arrived in the Captain -General's elegant little 
 steamer, and soon afterwards we found ourselves 
 seated by his side, gliding along swiftly and 
 threading our way tlirough the numerous little 
 boats on the blue waters of the beautiful bay. 
 
 Ah ! who would not exclaim at seeing this 
 wondrous scene for the first time, as Columbus 
 did, 
 
 " Es la tierra mas hermosa que jamas vieron mis ojos." * 
 
 » u 
 
 It is the most beautiful country that my eyes ever beheld ! "
 
 XVII. 
 
 " The "West Indies I behold, 
 Like th' Hesperides of old, 
 — Trees of life with fruits of gold.'' 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 The little steamer of the Captain- General landed 
 us at the Machina, such is the name of one of the 
 landing places about the centre of the bay. 
 
 Everything looks quaint, strange, and foreign, 
 as we step on shore. 
 
 Crowds of negroes and Chinamen surround us 
 on every side ; one takes a trunk, another a parcel, 
 and with no little noise and fuss on the part of 
 these variegated assistants, and great amusement 
 on the part of Lilian Leigh, we find ourselves 
 seated at last in General Herbert's carriage. 
 
 What a novel scene meets our eyes in every 
 street and at every turn ! 
 
 The carriage, which is open, takes us quickly 
 throuofh the reo^ular but narrow streets. The air 
 is now burning hot, and the rays of the sun shine 
 full upon us even through the awnings which 
 cover every street from side to side. These are 
 becoming more deserted as the heat of the day 
 advances ; soon they will be perfectly empty, for
 
 PART THE FIRST. 165 
 
 • 
 here night is turned into day, or rather day is turned 
 
 into night, and every one seeks, on a cool couch, 
 
 the refreshing and pleasant sleep of the Siesta. 
 
 We soon reach the Hotel San Carlos, where 
 General Herbert lives, and where we intend to 
 put up. This is one of the best hotels of the 
 city, situated on the Alameda de Paula, with fine 
 views over the lovely bay. 
 
 Mrs Herbert received us ; we found her to be 
 a most agreeable, well-informed, and charming 
 American lady, and we soon became great friends. 
 I perceived that she received Lady Leigh as a 
 kind mother might have done, which raised her a 
 great deal in my favour. 
 
 I had a room given to me on the first floor, 
 which, in this country, is either the topmost or 
 the middle one, the walls were unpapered, but 
 painted white, and having a gaudy border of 
 bright colours, reaching to about the height of three 
 feet. The floor was of white and black marble, 
 and had no carpet excepting just beside the bed. 
 This did not please me very much. It was an 
 iron bedstead, without mattresses or bedding of 
 any kind. A very tightly drawn canvass and a 
 couple of frilled sheets composed the entire bed- 
 ding. To my English idea of comfort, this seemed 
 a most detestable couch ; but I soon got accustomed 
 to it, and as I afterwards learnt, this sort of bed 
 is considered by far the most healthy and suitable 
 in every way for tropical climates.
 
 i66 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 m 
 
 The room was large, and had four enormous 
 doors ; one on either side, conducting into the 
 adjoining rooms, whilst another of them opened 
 into a wide balcony which overlooked the bay ; 
 the Indian laurels of the Alameda shading it 
 from the hot rays of the mid-day sun. 
 
 This balcony I found had no windows, or at 
 least, not what in Europe we would call a 
 window ; it possessed Venetian blinds and outside 
 shutters, but as for glass, there was none, except- 
 ing a very small slip let into one of the side 
 panels. This, as I learnt in time, is another 
 useless thing in a tropical country where cold is 
 never to be dreaded. 
 
 The fourth, and opposite door opened into a 
 spacious marble hall, which served as general 
 dining-room to the hotel, and was fitted up accord- 
 ingly, with a great many dining tables of various 
 sizes, each of which was always covered with its 
 snow-white cloth, and shining plate full of tempt- 
 incr-looking tropical fruits. This immense gallery 
 had also enormous windows with Venetian shutters, 
 which looked upon the courtyard in the centre of 
 the building, and ran all round the house. 
 
 The other two doors in my room opened, as I 
 have said, into the adjoining rooms on either side, 
 which would thus make a suite of apartments if 
 required for a family. 
 
 What first strikes one, in Cuban houses, is 
 the enormous size of everthing — doors, windows,
 
 PART THE FIRST 167 
 
 galleries, passages — they all seem to have been 
 built for giants. 
 
 At last, I was in the Havana, the city I had so 
 often dreamt about ; the city of Columbus, 
 Velasquez, and Fernan- Cortes ; the capital of the 
 island so bravely defended by its first peaceful 
 inhabitants ; and made so interesting to us by 
 the writings of Las Casas, Prescott, Washington 
 Irving, and so many others. As I sat in my large 
 rocking-chair by the window side, looking over 
 the blue waters of the bay, my mind was full of 
 those glorious recollections of the gallant adven- 
 turers who first discovered this beautiful land. 
 
 The harbour, spread out like a panorama 
 before my eyes, is considered one of the finest in 
 the world. The entrance is very narrow, so 
 narrow indeed, that they say it is possible to 
 speak from one side to the other. On one side of 
 this entrance rises the fortress of the Morro, on 
 the other the castle of La Punta, both strongly 
 guarded by cannons. Once past these castles, 
 the bay widens out, and in front of the town it 
 becomes an enormous harbour capable of holding 
 thousands of ships ; its waters are always calm 
 and blue, and only rippled by a summer breeze, 
 even when the infuriated sea outside the forts 
 dashes against the walls of the Morro. It would 
 seem as if the anger of the mighty element is 
 soothed the instant it reaches this calm and 
 beautiful haven.
 
 1 6S THR UGH THE A GES. 
 
 This harbour is thus one of the strongest in 
 the world, and if it were taken during the past 
 century by the English, it was by surprise, and 
 in the same way that the robber introduces him- 
 self through a half-shut door during the sleep of 
 the porter. 
 
 After a long bombardment, for the siege had 
 lasted several weeks, the English suddenly ceased 
 all action ; they had not renounced the enter- 
 prise, but changed their plan of attack. Not 
 having been able to succeed by force, they would 
 now try stratagem. They knew that during the 
 hot hours of the day the whole population, and 
 even the garrison, indulged in the delicious re- 
 freshment of a siesta. The Spanish soldier, vigi- 
 lant and brave at any hour of the night, fell into 
 a deep sleep when the hot sun of the tropics 
 shone with all its power upon his head. 
 
 At mid-day the English squadron entered 
 the bay in silence, not one cannon was fired ; 
 and, what was the surprise of the Cubans that 
 afternoon, when they awoke from their unfor- 
 tunate sleep, to find the English in full force 
 inside their impregnable harbour ! 
 
 In the afternoon I went out with Professor 
 Farren for a first ramble through the city. The 
 sun was now going down, and the Havaneros 
 were coming gradually out of their houses to en- 
 joy the cool of the evening. 
 
 What first strikes a stranger in the Havana is
 
 PART THE FIRST. i6g 
 
 the want of people to be seen in the city ; there 
 are no common people, strange to say, for the 
 whole population may be said to be divided into 
 two classes, masters and slaves, the first of which 
 may be again divided into two classes, the 
 nobility and the commercial class, which is the 
 largest, and is in its greatest part composed of 
 Catalans, and natives of the Canary Islands. 
 There are very few or no white servants ; no poor 
 people, excepting the Chinamen or coolies, 
 recently imported into the island ; and the slaves 
 from Africa. This alone gives the town a look 
 peculiar to itself 
 
 As we walked through the shady streets we 
 had plenty of new things to wonder at and to 
 admire. Cuban ladies never walk in the street ; 
 and even white men walk so little, that it is quite 
 by accident you meet one, excepting foreigners, 
 and particularly English, who of course will 
 always do every thing in their own way. 
 
 Every lady in Havana has a carriage, generally 
 a volanta or quitrin, which is a two-wheeled 
 carriage with very long shafts, which rest upon a 
 horse, by the side of which, but a little ahead, 
 is another horse, upon which rides the driver, or 
 calesero. These carriages are generally kept in 
 the hall of every house, so as to be ready at any 
 moment ; for a Cuban lady would not like to 
 wait five minutes for her carriage if she had made 
 up her mind to go out.
 
 170 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Every house, however poor, has its volanta, 
 but besides these, there are hundreds of public 
 victorias in every street to be hired for twenty- 
 five cents, besides cars, tramw^ays, and omnibuses 
 which go from one part of the city to the other ; 
 the consequences are, that Cubans, either from 
 indolence or vanity, never walk, and if they had 
 to go two streets from their house they would go 
 in a carriage.
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Where first his drooping sails Columbus furl'd, 
 And sweetly rested in another world, 
 Amidst the heaven-reflecting ocean, smiles 
 A constellation of Elysian isles ; 
 Fair as Orion when he mounts on high, 
 Sparkling with midnight splendour from the sky ; 
 They bask beneath the sun's meridian rays, 
 When not a shadow breaks the boundless blaze ; 
 The breath of ocean wanders through their vales. 
 In morning breezes, and in evening gales ; 
 
 • Earth from her lap perennial verdure pours, 
 
 Ambrosial fruits and amaranthine flowers ; 
 
 O'er the wild mountains and luxuriant plains, 
 
 Nature in all the pomp of beauty reigns 
 
 In all the pride of freedom." 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 When, in 1515, the filibusters, as they were 
 called, burnt and sacked the old town of San 
 Cristobal de Cuba, the capital was removed to 
 the present city of Havana, then a little village 
 known as Puerto de Larenas. The present site 
 of the Castle of la Punta was occupied by the 
 village of Batabanoa. 
 
 Strong walls were built all round the city — 
 walls which the city has, however, outgrown long 
 ago ; those by the side of the sea and bay still 
 exist ; but those on the land side have lately 
 been pulled down, and the ground they occupied
 
 1/2 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 is being turned into j^ccseos and boulevards, thus 
 joining the numerous suburbs of San Antonio, 
 Luz, Jesus-del-Monte, Cerro, &c., &c., to the town 
 itself. 
 
 The streets of the town that was till lately en- 
 closed within these walls, are all built at right 
 angles, and on account of the heat of the climate are 
 narrow. This, however, is not an inconvenience, 
 for there are streets by which to go, and streets 
 by which to return ; or, as they call it here, streets 
 to ascend, and streets to descend, so that carriages 
 never meet going in opposite directions. The 
 houses are generally low, the highest having only 
 three stories, while the greater part only possess 
 one ; the rooms are thus all on the ground-floor, 
 and open to the street, like the old Roman, or 
 rather Pompeian dwellings. In the houses where 
 there are two floors, the upper one is the prin- 
 cipal, the basement being then devoted to com- 
 merce, and occupied either by shops or ware- 
 houses ; and the entresol serving as a residence 
 for the shopkeepers. These latter edifices are the 
 finest ; they are perfect mansions, some of which 
 — particularly those occupied by the ■ nobility — 
 are palaces in every respect. 
 
 In the Havana there is no specially fashionable 
 quarter as in London or New York ; no West 
 End, or Fifth Avenue ; the houses are all mixed 
 up, and we often see a magnificent palace by the 
 side of dingy little shops ; and even shabby ware-
 
 PART THE FIRST. 173 
 
 houses smelling of tar and turpentine, under a 
 magnificent palatial residence of some grandee of 
 the island. 
 
 The houses are all open ; the shops have no 
 windows whatever ; but the whole store is exposed 
 to the gaze of the curious passer-by, and even the 
 private houses are so open, that the people in the 
 street can see everything that is going on inside. 
 
 When there is a party in one of these houses 
 the street is crammed with people looking through 
 the windows at the ladies and gentlemen dancing 
 inside; but as there are no — what in other places 
 would be called, common people — nobody minds, 
 and ices and refreshments are even sometimes 
 sent out to them by the kind host. Families in 
 mourning, have been known to attend in this 
 way parties to which they dared not go openly 
 for fear of criticism. 
 
 But although the houses are all wide open to 
 the street, they are, nevertheless, as impreonable 
 as fortresses ; for the walls are immensely thick, 
 and every window — even those in the roof — is 
 barred like a prison with strong perpendicular 
 iron bars, through which it would be impossible 
 to get into the house. 
 
 An immense doorway gives entrance to most 
 Cuban houses, through which is pierced a smaller 
 door so as not to open the large one, which is 
 covered with brass knobs and door-plates, and is 
 only opened for the entrance or exit of the car-
 
 174 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 riage. As you enter, the first thing that strikes 
 your attention is this same elegant piece of furni- 
 ture — for such a carriage is considered here — 
 which is always kept in the hall ; then passing 
 througli a marble inner hall, you enter the house. 
 
 The rooms are all open. From the drawing- 
 room or saloon you can see the rest of the house 
 to the very bed-rooms, which seem only made for 
 show, and are gorgeously decorated. 
 
 The walls are white ; and the floor is generally 
 of black and white or variegated marble. In 
 some houses columns take the place of walls, 
 and then curtains are hung between the marble 
 columns to divide the rooms. Indeed, in some 
 houses it is almost impossible to tell where one 
 room ends, and another begins. 
 
 The entire length of the reception-rooms is 
 taken up by two rows of rocking-chairs parallel 
 to each other. Between these there is a small 
 narrow carpet where the sitter's feet can rest. 
 The people of the house and their visitors sit in 
 these chairs and rock themselves for hours with- 
 out ever changing their position, which would be 
 considered a breach of etiquette until departure 
 necessitates a formal leave-talking — when, if the 
 visitor is a lady, all rise ; and if a gentleman, the 
 men only rise and the ladies bow. 
 
 Such is a Cuban house. When there are two 
 stories to the house, the principal rooms are in the 
 upper one, and then a marble staircase proudly
 
 PART THE FIRST. 175 
 
 rises from tlie inner hall. When the house is 
 large, there is a garden in the centre with a foun- 
 tain, and round it a marble colonnade very much 
 in the style of the houses in Seville. In the 
 dwellings outside the walls, the garden is at the 
 back, and the entire front is taken up by a hand- 
 some stone verandah with marble pillars and 
 statues. 
 
 But it is time I should go back to my first 
 ramble through this strange but fascinating city. 
 
 Neither the Professor nor I had ever been in 
 the Havana before, so we made many mistakes, 
 and got lost not a few times before we reached 
 the Plaza de Armas, where we had intended 
 to go. 
 
 This is a large, handsome public square planted 
 with palm-trees, orange-trees, and various other 
 tropical plants. In the centre is a stone statue of 
 Ferdinand VII. ; and the principal side of it is 
 taken up by the palace of the Captain- General, 
 a magnificent building, not unlike a royal resi- 
 dence. The other sides are occupied by the 
 Lonja, the palace of the Count de Santovenia ; 
 and the Templete, a Grecian-looking temple 
 erected to the memory of Columbus, on the site 
 where the first mass was ofiered up in the New 
 World. 
 
 Not far from the Plaza de Armas is the Cathe- 
 dral, which we visited the same day. It is a 
 large stone building, an unhappy mixture of
 
 176 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Gothic, Moorish, Spanish and Mexican styles of 
 architecture, which still has a peculiar beauty of 
 its own, like all the works of art of a young 
 nation, being a primitive endeavour to imitate 
 the best efforts of other more advanced coun- 
 tries. 
 
 Originally it served as a chapel consecrated to 
 San Isidoro ; in 1724 it was re-constructed by 
 the Society of Jesus ; and later on, the unfortun- 
 ate Jesuits having been expulsed from the island, 
 their church became the first parish of the town ; 
 and at a still later period the cathedi'al of the 
 bishopric of Havana, only second to the great 
 cathedral at Cuba. 
 
 It is built of a peculiar brown stone, carved 
 and moulded into all sorts of primitive designs. 
 The fagade, however, with its curious towers, 
 niches, columns, and large doors, is rather striking. 
 You ascend to it by a flight of stone steps the 
 whole width of the building. 
 
 The inside is poor and dark, in spite of its 
 many altars and colossal mahogany pillars. The 
 large altar and the choir are in good taste, and 
 exceedingly rich and handsome. 
 
 The church altogether, considered as a cathe- 
 dral, is poor ; but for every one who visits it, it 
 has one object of the very greatest interest — the 
 grave of Columbus. 
 
 It consists of a small stone ornamented with 
 the portrait of the great Admiral in basso-relievo,
 
 PART THE FIRST. 177 
 
 situated on tlie left of the great high altar. Under 
 the portrait is written : 
 
 " O restos e imagen del gran Colon! 
 Mil sighs durad, guardados en la urna^ 
 Y en la rememhranza de nuestra nacion." 
 
 After death, as in life, the destiny of the great 
 discoverer was to traverse the ocean. His death 
 occurred at Valladolid ; his remains were first 
 sent to Seville, from thence to Santa Domic o-o, 
 and finally to the Havana in the year 1796, 
 where they are very naturally prized by the 
 Cubans as the relics of a saint. 
 
 Near the Cathedral is the Fish Market, where 
 every kind of fish, from whitebait to shark, is 
 exhibited for sale. 
 
 After rambling through the Calle del Ohispo, 
 where all the best shops are situated, and the 
 market {mercado de Cristinci), we went back to 
 the hotel to join Lady Leigh and Mrs Herbert, 
 with whom we proceeded in a carriage to the 
 Paseo, which is the handsome promenade outside 
 the walls, between the old town and the new, and 
 might well be called, as in Vienna, the Ring of 
 the town. Here we had an opportunity of 
 admiring the beautiful Cuban women, ?s they 
 passed us in their elegant volantas, reclinino- 
 languidly amidst clouds of tulle or lace, with low 
 dresses, and nothing on their heads save their 
 abundant hair, adorned, generally speaking, with 
 flowers, and often with jewels and precious stones. 
 
 I. M
 
 178 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 This Paseo, or public promenade and drive, is 
 the afternoon resort of the fashionable world of 
 the Havana, and sometimes it is so crowded with 
 carriages that these can hardly move, and proceed 
 at a slow pace, one behind the other, up and 
 down, sometimes coming to a dead stand-still 
 when some other carriao^e dashes in from a neiojh- 
 bouring street to occupy its place in the ranks — 
 and to do this, it will sometimes have to wait till 
 the Calesero (postilion or driver) of some friend's 
 carriage will make room for it to enter. 
 
 It is a handsome promenade, with trees on 
 either side, and fountains in the middle ; the build- 
 ings on it are principally clubs, theatres, and hotels. 
 The Tacon Opera House, one of the largest 
 theatres in the world, and certainly the handsomest 
 in America, is situated on this promenade. 
 
 As the evening advances, the crowd becomes 
 larger and larger ; and when night comes all at 
 once, as it does in this climate, where there is no 
 twilight, the entire promenade is in an instant 
 transformed, as by a coup de theatre, into a 
 dazzling scene illumined by thousands of brilliant 
 gas-lights, when it has the effects of the Champs 
 Elys^es in miniature. Indeed, when lighted by 
 the pure white rays of the silvery moon of the 
 tropics shining on the feathery leaves of the 
 palm-trees, and making them appear as of silver, 
 I can only compare it to the grand tableau at 
 the end of a fairy tale.
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Ah ! No es cierto, aDgel de amor, 
 Que en esta apartada orilla 
 Mas pura la luna brilla 
 Y se respira mejor ? 
 Esta aura, que vaga llena 
 De los sencillos olores 
 De las campesinas flores 
 Que brota esta orilla amena ; 
 Esa agua limpia y serena 
 Que atraviesa sin temor 
 La barca del pescador, 
 Que espera cantando el dia, 
 No es cierto, paloma mia 
 Que estan respirando amor ? " 
 
 Jose Zorrilla. 
 
 We had been a week already in Havana. The 
 charm of novelty had by this time nearly worn 
 out, but I still found something to admire anc'. 
 wonder at in this quaint capital of the tropics. 
 
 The indolent, luxurious life we led, rendered 
 our existence doubly happy in this land, wh ire 
 to breathe is to enjoy. 
 
 I still lodged at the Hotel San Carlos, w.aere 
 General and ]\Irs Herbert lived; but although in 
 the same house with Lilian Leigh, and seeiug her 
 every day, I very seldom had a tete-d-tete with 
 her, for which I must confess I was not sorry.
 
 i8o THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I will try to describe, if possible, the strange 
 sort of life I led amidst these beautiful scenes of 
 tropical life. 
 
 Early in the morning, at the break of day, a 
 negro used to come into my apartment, and pre- 
 sent me with a cup of that delicious coffee only 
 obtainable in the land of its growth. I then got 
 up and opened the Venetian blinds, letting the 
 first rays of coming day inundate the room with 
 the balmy breeze of the neighbouring sea. 
 
 After a refreshing bath I sat in the balcony, 
 lazily rocking myself in my rocking-chair, con- 
 templating the bay before me, with its thousand 
 ships and steamers ; and the immense warehouses 
 on the opposite shore, near Kegla, shaded by 
 groves of orange and ceihas, over which rose in 
 supreme grace and majesty the royal palm 
 peculiar to the island. 
 
 A book was generally on my knees, but my 
 eyes seldom rested upon its pages, the all-absorb- 
 ing scene constantly before them, proving too 
 strong an attraction for me to resist. Indeed, 
 what book is comparable to the wondrous work 
 of nature when it unfolds its glorious pages 
 amidst scenes such as this ! 
 
 Besides, there were the ever-mo^dng vessels, a 
 constant object of amusement and interest — some 
 preparing their white sails like beautiful sea gulls 
 pluming their wings for a fresh flight across the 
 ocean ; others arriving, proudly and gallantly
 
 PART THE FIRST l8i 
 
 swimmirig past my ^Tudows like queens of the 
 sea, their decks often crowded with life. Where 
 had they come from ? — what human hopes and 
 sorrows did they bear to this new shore ? — were 
 thoughts that would fill my mind as I stood on 
 my balcony and watched them till the minutes 
 grew into hours, and it was time to prepare for 
 the morning meal, before I had read a single page. 
 
 At eleven we breakfasted. A Cuban breakfast 
 is a regular dinner — a second edition, or rather a 
 first one of that meal — the only difierence being, 
 that in the former the coffee is served at the 
 beginning, while in the latter it is served at the 
 end. The number of dishes is the same, but al- 
 ways varied and delicious, for the cuisine Creole 
 is famous throughout the world. 
 
 The principal feature, however, of this our early 
 meal, was a plate of eggs and rice with tomatoes, 
 which is eaten with fried plantains, and sweet 
 potatoes — those two delicious productions of the 
 island. 
 
 After breakfast I generally went out to study 
 Cuban life, sometimes with Professor Farren, but 
 most days alone. 
 
 During the hot hours of the day the streets of 
 Havana, although covered by awnings, and thus 
 guarded from the rays of the sun, are generally 
 deserted. Most of the shops are shut, and the 
 town presents the appearance of a deserted city. 
 Pompeii itself could hardly look more dead.
 
 1 82 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 But here and there a man standing close by 
 a window, inside of which, half hidden by the 
 white curtain, we can perceive a pair of large and 
 flashing black eyes, serves to assure us that the 
 Habaneros are . not dead, but only appear so. It 
 is a strange fact that here the sun takes the place 
 of the moon as the protector of lovers. 
 
 But we must not be too severe upon these little 
 peccadillos, so common in the south. In Spain 
 '^ pelar la pava^' is indeed the acknowledged way 
 of love-making, and all young people must neces- 
 sarily spend a part of their lives in gentle and 
 innocent flirtation through the iron bars of a 
 ground floor window. 
 
 A few business men, and a priest or two, com- 
 pose, with the lovers before mentioned, the whole 
 population of Havana during the hot hours of the 
 day. Thus, during the best part of the morning, 
 movement is the exception, sleep the rule. Even 
 the slave from the burning soil of Africa sinks on 
 a door step, or in any shady corner he can find at 
 hand, overcome by the heat. 
 
 During these few hours of relaxation and rest 1 
 often, when by myself, retired into some church 
 or other, where the air is always cool and pleasant. 
 
 The church of La Merced, in the corner of 
 
 Merced and Cuba streets, used to be a favourite 
 
 . resort of mine. This is the most fashionable, as 
 
 well as the most elegant, church of the city ; it is 
 
 large and well proportioned, and an air of comfort
 
 PART THE FIRST 183 
 
 and prosperity pervades it, which is more than I 
 can say for the other churches of the Havana. 
 
 The Cuban ladies often frequent this church 
 during the morning, especially on Sundays ; and 
 if a foreio^ner wishes to behold those eleo-ant houris 
 of the tropics, this is certainly the place from 
 whence he can best direct his observations. 
 
 To go to church, the Havana ladies generally 
 adopt the graceful Spanish mantilla, which they 
 wear with a grace not inferior to that of the most 
 beautiful daughters of Seville or Cadiz. Others, 
 however, prefer the Parisian bonnet, or the Madrid 
 veil, but they always wear something on their 
 heads to enter a church, and also, perhaps, to 
 make a difference from their afternoon toilette, 
 when they display their beautiful and abundant 
 curls uncovered. 
 
 The Cuban churches, like those of Spain and 
 Italy, have no pews or seats of any kind ; so every 
 lady is accompanied by one or two slaves — these 
 are generally little children attired as grooms, 
 with top-boots and hats, who carry respectively 
 a small chair, and a carpet. Upon this they sit, 
 and with their enormous fans keep time to the 
 music, while their large liquid eyes wander round 
 the building, probably seeking among the young 
 gallants, who are grouped around the marble 
 columns, their special inamorato. 
 
 The church of La Merced is dedicated to the 
 Virgin (our Lady of Mercy), whose image is
 
 i84 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 placed upon a throne of gold on the high 
 altar. 
 
 This beautiful statue is enormously rich ; her 
 dresses are of the most wonderful materials, and 
 her jewels surpass all description ; her crown, 
 which is kept in the sacristia at the side of the 
 church, is alone worth millions; she also possesses 
 a golden carriage, and an altar of precious stones. 
 
 She has a regular household. Maids of honour, 
 ladies and lords in waiting, grooms of the cliam- 
 ber, and a mistress of the robes, who has under 
 her charge all her dresses and jewels, and who is 
 obliged to replace them, and add to the collection 
 every year. This post, which is considered one 
 of great honour, belongs to the noble family of 
 Montalvo, and is held to-day by the Dowager 
 Countess, who esteems it as her greatest distinc- 
 tion. The other posts are also taken by ladies of 
 rank, who rival each other in their splendid pre- 
 sents and devoted zeal. All this for a wooden 
 image ! Where will the fanaticism of the world 
 carry it to ? 
 
 I must confess that to my mind the poor grave 
 of Columbus, in the deserted cathedral, is more 
 worthy of veneration than all the images under 
 the sun. 
 
 By the time I come out of the church, all is life 
 again in the city; the shops open their doors; the 
 negroes go about the streets carrying pines, 
 oranges, and bananas ; the lottery ticket vendors
 
 PART THE FIRST, 185 
 
 vie ^dth each other in crying out as usual the 
 number of their tickets; the yelloTv-faced China- 
 men go about with their peculiar dress ; the mulat- 
 toes drive their donkies, laden to a great height 
 with mcdoja^ or fodder for horses ; the Guajiros 
 run to and fro trying to sell to the best of their 
 ability the varied productions of their little 
 gardens outside the walls; and business begins 
 anew in all its divers phases. 
 
 At five we dine, after which we all start in 
 volantas for the promenade, or for some excursion 
 or other to the suburbs of the town or its en- 
 virons. 
 
 These are numerous and interesting ; particu- 
 larly those of Puentes Grandes, and Marianao, 
 which, I am told, are very fashionable and 
 crowded resorts in the summer season. They 
 are all rich in country houses, or quintas, some 
 of which are regular little palaces in the midst of 
 lovely gardens, in which the luxuriant vegetation 
 of the tropics is cultivated with the greatest care 
 and taste. 
 
 In the Cerro, and in the Paseos de Tacon, and 
 de Isabel II. there are also some fine ^illa resi- 
 dences surrounded by marble colonnades. These 
 are mostly of only one floor high ; but at the 
 back they have large gardens, the palms and 
 ceibas of which rise to a considerable heig^ht over 
 the building, giving it a cool, fresh, and elegant 
 appearance.
 
 i86 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 At night, when one passes in front of these 
 mansions, one is often compelled to stop before 
 them to admire the elegance and beautj of their 
 interiors. The rooms are all brightly illuminated 
 by gas, under which the marble statues seem to 
 come to life against the dark green tropical 
 plants with which they are surrounded. As 
 there are no windows, the whole house can be 
 seen from the outside ; and in those marble halls 
 and galleries, the eyes of a foreigner wander in 
 astonishment, as do those of a child before the 
 transformation scene of his first pantomime. 
 
 In some of them we see elegant women danc- 
 ing the graceful waltz of Cuba, so well calculated 
 to display their slender forms, and in which the 
 feet scarcely move at all ; for, as there must be 
 contradictions in every thing in this world, these 
 languid daughters of the tropics, whom one 
 would suppose too indolent ever to move from 
 their rocking-chairs, are passionately fond of 
 dancing. 
 
 At night we often repaired to the Tacon 
 Theatre, where an excellent opera company was 
 performing, under the direction of Signor Tam- 
 berlick, the celebrated tenor. Both the singing 
 and the mise en scene seemed to me far superior 
 to those I had but recently witnessed at the New 
 York Opera House. 
 
 We generally finished the day with a sail on 
 the bay by moonlight in one of the gondolas.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 187 
 
 This, perhaps, was the most delightful of all. 
 Nothing can compare mth the stillness and 
 beauty of those soft moonlight hours, passed 
 under the warm southern sky of this most 
 glorious bay of the Havana. 
 
 All was gentle and soft like the moonlight, and 
 the gondola glided over the phosphorescent waves, 
 like those flies which walk upon the water and 
 hardly seem to touch it. 
 
 From the bay we could see the whole town 
 spread out before us, with its many towers and 
 spires, all ghttering in the moonlight ; while on 
 the other side Kegla and Casa Blanca, with its 
 immense fortifications, looked dark and dim in 
 the distant backo-round. 
 
 Ever and anon the tinkling^ of some distant 
 guitar, or the dash caused upon the water by 
 some fairy boat, or passing steamer, came to 
 break the stillness of the scene, calling us back 
 to its reality. 
 
 Over our heads the spectacle was more sublime 
 and not less beautiful. The many constellations 
 of the south, presided over by the great southern 
 cross itself, the most beautiful of them all, gently 
 smiled down upon the scene below, as they had 
 been doing for untold ages upon other races and 
 generations of men. Every moment of that deli- 
 cious sail, on that lovely bay, seemed a centmy 
 of bliss for us, and we regretted every stroke of 
 the oars, which brought us nearer and nearer to
 
 i88 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 its termination. When at last, at a late hour of 
 the night, we regained the hotel, it was with 
 regret that we shut out the lovely scene, — those 
 glorious stars, and that glittering sea. For my 
 part, I only laid my head upon my pillow, to 
 see it all over again in my dreams — and to long 
 for the repetition of its reality on the next night 
 and the next again.
 
 XX. 
 
 " Ye tropic forests of unfading green ! 
 "Where the palm tapers and the orange glows — 
 Where the light bamboo waves her feathery screen, 
 And her far shade the matchless Ceiba throws. 
 
 " Ye cloudless ethers of unchanging blue ! 
 Save where the rosy streaks of eve give way 
 To the clear sapphire of your midnight hue, 
 The burnished azure of your perfect day ! " 
 
 Lord Morpeth. 
 
 The two weeks I had spent at Havana had passed 
 like a pleasant dream. My life had been a suc- 
 cession of happy events ; all was calm, bright and 
 peaceful around me ; and yet I was not happy ! 
 In my happiest moment I needed something to 
 make my joy complete, something which I 
 thought impossible ever to find in this world ; 
 and yet something which I had possessed in my 
 rambles over the bleak and wild, but to me, 
 heavenly shores of Caledonia during my happy 
 honeymoon. 
 
 The most tame of scenes has a certain charm 
 when viewed in the company of a beloved being ; 
 and the most luxuriant of tropical pictures seems 
 dull and uninteresting when visited alone. Yet
 
 1 90 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I was not alone, I had plenty of companions, and 
 one of the greatest belles of America by my side ; 
 but what were they all to me ? For one moment 
 I had f^incied that Lilian entertained some slight 
 affection, if not more for me ; but now I was 
 convinced of the contrary. She might like Lord 
 Carlton and his estates very well, but she did not 
 love the man. 
 
 Now that I could see through her, I despised 
 her coquettish, deceitful ways ; she would have 
 liked to imprison me in her charms, but if she 
 had met with a more advantageous offer later on, 
 I could not help thinking that she would have 
 been only too glad to have set me free. 
 
 Since that memorable night of the 10th of 
 December, a coolness had sprung up between 
 us ; a coolness that threatened to last ; for an 
 explanation was impossible after the strange 
 events which had preceded the horrors of the 
 Fifth Avenue fire. We saw each other every 
 day, it is true ; but a strange feeling of reserve 
 prevailed in all our conversations ; and extra- 
 ordinary to say, Lilian Leigh, instead of seeking 
 my company, as she had done before, now 
 dreaded even more than I did, to find ourselves 
 alone together. 
 
 She was therefore no company to me, and her 
 uncle. Professor Farren, was scarcely more so, for 
 with him I could never hope to sympathise. His 
 cold and sceptical opinions froze my heart to
 
 PART THE FIRST. 191 
 
 stone, and disgusted me as mucli as his cynical, 
 hopeless, and faulty philosophy, which to me ex- 
 plained nothing. 
 
 Thus, in the midst of splendid scenes, and 
 surrounded by the finest of nature's lovely works, 
 I felt sad and alone, and wished myself far away 
 from this enchanting world which said so little 
 to my heart. 
 
 General and Mrs Herbert were, however, very 
 kind to me, taking me everywhere with them, and 
 shewinsf me all the different sio;hts of the Havana 
 and its surroundings. 
 
 About this time they formed a large party to 
 visit the town of Matanzas, situated about two 
 hours by the railway from the capital, and they 
 insisted that Lady Leigh, her uncle, and myself, 
 should join the expedition. 
 
 We started on the l-ith of January from the 
 great station in the town of Eegla, to which we 
 went by one of the many ferry steamers which 
 cross the bay in all directions. 
 
 The Cuban railway carriages are very much 
 like the American cars, from which they have 
 been copied, but are of course adapted to the 
 country, being open at the sides, protected with 
 Venetian blinds, and having straw seats instead 
 of stuffed velvet or cloth ones. 
 
 The country through which we passed was 
 rich, and covered with the most wonderful 
 vegetation. The grass is of a dark bluish green
 
 192 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 hue, which the hottest sun of the summer never 
 turns into gold ; and over this rise one over the 
 other in luxuriant profusion, ceihas (cottonwood 
 trees), with their parasites, the graceful cupey 
 and jagueyy banana-trees, plantains, mameys, 
 cocoa-nut, palms, and above all, the royal palm, 
 which seems to rise from the cane and coffee fields 
 below, and to pierce the very sky above, straight, 
 unbending, and evergreen, forming the most 
 perfect of lightning conductors, and thus pre- 
 serving the rich crops from the fire of the 
 atmosphere. 
 
 Nothing can in any way compare with the 
 general aspect of the country, in this, the pearl 
 of the Antilles, and when the glorious sun sinks 
 in the west, the effects of colouring are beyond 
 all description. This was what we all felt, as 
 we flew along past sugar-cane fields, and palm- 
 tree groves, with the last rays of the setting 
 sun. 
 
 Matanzas is a fine city, built at the head of the 
 bay of the same name, between the rivers Yumuri 
 and San Juan, which bound it on the east and 
 west. This gives the town, when viewed from 
 one of the bridges built over these rivers, an 
 aspect not unlike that which Venice presents 
 when seen from the top of the Eialto, although 
 in every other respect it is a genuine Spanish 
 city. 
 
 I have heard many people say that the island
 
 PART THE FIRST. 193 
 
 of Cuba was much more Spanish than the old 
 country itself, where the French and Itahan 
 fashions have been adopted for the most part. 
 Of this I cannot judge, but I should say 
 that if any, Matanzas was decidedly the most 
 Castilian of all the towns I have visited in the 
 whole island. The streets are narrow but straight, 
 and well built, the houses being very like those 
 I have already described in Havana. The Cal- 
 zada de San Esteban is, perhaps, a finer street 
 than any in the latter town, but for the rest the 
 general appearance of both cities is pretty much 
 the same. 
 
 We put up at the Hotel "Leon de Oro," where 
 we found rooms already prepared for us. After 
 dinner we went to the Plaza de Armas, a very 
 handsome pubhc square in front of the governor s 
 palace, planted with considerable taste with 
 shrubberies, flowers, palms, and laid out in all 
 directions with paved and gravelled walks, 
 adorned with handsome gas lamps. 
 
 Eound it there are some fine houses, cafes, and 
 hotels, and in its centre a military band plays 
 every evening. This evening music is called the 
 ** Retreta." The appearance of this square during 
 the fine star-light nights of the winter months, is 
 indeed a novel and, at the same time, a pretty 
 one. 
 
 The walks are filled with ladies and gentlemen, 
 the former beautifully dressed with light gay 
 
 I. N
 
 194 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 colours, and nothing in the hair unless it be a 
 natural flower; and all round the square are 
 grouped hundreds of elegant carriages, also full 
 of ladies, taking their ices, and listening to the 
 sweet strains of the military music. 
 
 There is a handsome new opera house in 
 Matanzas which, to judge from its facade — rich in 
 marble colonnades and statues — must be as fine a 
 one as that of the Havana, but unfortunately 
 I cannot speak of the interior, as the only night 
 we might have gone to it, it rained, and in this 
 country when it rains there is no performance, 
 so we were obliged to remain at the hotel, and 
 amuse ourselves round the grand piano.
 
 XXL 
 
 "What wonder then, if fields and regions here 
 Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run 
 Potable gold, when with one virtuous touch 
 Th' arch-chemic sun, so far from us remote. 
 Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd 
 Here in the dark, so many precious things, 
 Of colour glorious, and effects so rare ? 
 
 Near tlie town of Matanzas are the celebrated 
 stalactite caves of Bellamar, whicli are by some 
 considered tbe most perfect in the world. 
 
 We all set out to visit them one morning when the 
 sun had hardly yet begun to colour the eastern sky. 
 
 We were a large party, and, as the Cuban 
 volantas only hold two persons with comfort, we 
 formed a procession of ten carriages, besides a few 
 men on horseback, and half a dozen guides. 
 
 Mrs Herbert and I occupied one, and Lady 
 Leigh another, with a Cuban gentleman belonging 
 to the party ; I could see that she was vexed that 
 I had not offered her my company during the 
 whole of the journey, but I determined rather to 
 incur her displeasure than the dangerous fire of 
 her violet eyes. 
 
 The drive to the caves was delicious, the cool 
 fresh air of the early morning, and afterwards the
 
 196 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 exliilarating sea breeze, for our road lay partly by 
 the sea-shore, prevented our feeling the fatigue 
 we should otherwise have done. 
 
 The sun as yet only gilded some of the sapphire- 
 like waves of the glittering blue sea, and had no 
 power to harm us ; so we were able to have our 
 volantas open, and enjoyed the beautiful scene in 
 all its loveliness. 
 
 Presently we left the sea-shore, and began to 
 ascend the mountains on the right by a winding 
 path, exceedingly rugged and stony — so much so, 
 that we were all obliged to get out and walk the 
 greater part of the way, not being able to bear 
 the jolting of the carriages. 
 
 At last we arrived at a little house in the 
 middle of a large field, which proved to be the 
 entrance to the caves. 
 
 Here we took off as much of our clothing as we 
 possibly could — for the grottoes, the guides told 
 us, were exceedingly warm — we therefore left our 
 superabundant clothing in charge of the men at the 
 cottao^e, who undertook to furnish us with break- 
 fast on our return from our visit of exploration. 
 
 The caves of Bellamar are indeed beautiful — to 
 my mind even more so than the caves of A dels- 
 berg, in the south of Austria, although not half 
 so extensive. Some of the grottoes sparkle like 
 myriads of diamonds, whilst others present the 
 appearance of temples in the most beautiful style 
 of decoration. The Gothic temple, for instance,
 
 PART THE FIRST. 197 
 
 is far exceeding in brilliancy and colouring any 
 of the numerous caves at Adelsberg, for the stalac- 
 tites here are much more perfect and brilliant 
 than any in the former caves, where the con- 
 tinual smoke of thousands of tallow candles has 
 greatly marred their beauty, and rendered them 
 in course of time dim and opaque. The cave 
 of Bellamar is now lighted by gas, but only in 
 some places, the greater part being as yet only 
 visible by the torches carried by the guides. 
 
 In this newly discovered cave, as in the great 
 European one, every specimen of crystal forma- 
 tion has received a name. I remember one 
 particularly striking pillar, which is called " the 
 Mantle of the Virgin," and another, scarcely less 
 beautiful, known as " the Fountain of Snow." 
 
 The stalactites are of various colours, varying 
 from the pure white of the diamond to the deep 
 red of the ruby, and the bluish hue of the sapphire. 
 Our guides sometimes placed their torches behind 
 some of the most projecting ones, causing them 
 in this way to sparkle and glitter just like the 
 precious stones before -mentioned. 
 
 The cave is nearly four miles long, but we did 
 not visit it in its whole extent, contentinof our- 
 selves with viewing its finest grottoes. 
 
 When we once more emerged into the open 
 air, after two hours passed in the close, confined 
 air, and intensely sufibcating heat of the depths 
 of the earth, we appreciated, as perhaps we had
 
 198 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 never done before, the fresh, although by this 
 time sultry breeze, of the neighbouring sea. 
 
 After a light breakfast, which consisted prin- 
 cipally of eggs, rice, coffee, and the delicious fruits 
 of the country, which to us were still so entirely 
 new, we took our seats again in the volant as, and 
 returned to our hotel in the same order that 
 we had come. 
 
 Another very delightful excursion to be made 
 from Matanzas is to the valley of the Yumuri. 
 
 The history attached to this lovely valley is as 
 romantic as its situation. When the early Spanish 
 adventurers captured the bay and its surround- 
 ings, they massacred all the poor, peaceful natives, 
 who, as they jumped into the river, noAV called 
 by those words converted into a name, cried, 
 " Yo — muri^ — that is, " I die." From this in- 
 human and cruel massacre proceeds also the name 
 of the town, Matanzas (massacre). 
 
 During our stay in this city. General Herbert 
 received an invitation to a grand fete that was to 
 be given by the Count of Guanabacoa to celebrate 
 the saint's day of his wife on his sugar estate 
 known as the " Ingenio de la Azucena." This in- 
 vitation included the whole of his party, as well 
 as his wife and himself; so as the others accepted 
 it, I of course gladly decided to accompany them, 
 as perhaps this would be my only chance of study- 
 ing real Cuban life during my stay in the island.
 
 XXII. 
 
 " All is vanity and vexation of spirit." 
 
 PpvOverbs of Solomon. 
 
 " Todo es vanidad en este mundo." 
 
 QUEVEDO. 
 
 The Count of Guanabacoa's estate Azucena, is 
 situated at a distance of two hours by railway 
 from Matanzas. There is a small station on the 
 estate itself, so ^vhen we reached it, we had but a 
 short drive to the house. 
 
 The little station and the avenue near it, were 
 gaily decorated wdth flags and garlands of flowers, 
 to celebrate the occasion ; here we found three 
 volantas belonging to the count, to diive us to 
 the house, which was about a mile from the 
 railway. 
 
 A handsome avenue of palm trees of enormous 
 height, formed the approach, and we entered it 
 soon after leaving the station. 
 
 We found the mansion at which we arrived 
 some ten minutes afterwards, to be a laro-e two- 
 floor building, constructed almost entii^ely of 
 stone and wood. A handsome marble colonnade 
 extended the whole of one side, below which 
 were the extensive gardens and pleasure grounds.
 
 200 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 On the other side, and across an immense square 
 planted with trees, were the sugar works, the 
 Batej, as it is called, the Casa de Molienda, or 
 engine-house for crushing cane, and the houses of 
 the Chinamen, and barracks for the slaves. 
 
 The count and countess received us as we 
 alighted from our volantas ; we then learnt that 
 the greater part of the guests invited had already 
 arrived. The house was as full as it could hold, 
 several people sleeping in one room, for there 
 were about two hundred persons in all. I, how- 
 ever, fortunately had a room to myself, a pleasant 
 little apartment opening on to the garden. 
 
 General Herbert told me that I should meet 
 the best people of Cuba here, for the noble count 
 was a general favourite, and his house was one 
 of the most hospitable and pleasant in the whole 
 island. 
 
 I almost began to think the guests would never 
 end, as we sat in the large marble saloon, each in 
 a rocking chair, waiting for dinner. Generals and 
 their wives and daughters, counts and countesses, 
 a handsome duchess, dressed in white tulle, and 
 glittering with diamonds, priests and coquettes, 
 bankers and nobles, here they all were, ready to 
 sit at the same table. 
 
 The men were all in full evening dress, 
 although it was yet day, and great elegance 
 prevailed amongst the ladies, although, for the 
 most part, they were in simple white tulle or
 
 PART THE FIRST. 201 
 
 muslin dresses, with low bodies, short sleeves, 
 and flowers in their hair ; some of them had 
 splendid jewels, and thej all looked fresh and 
 young, even the mammas, a thing one seldom sees 
 in Europe, where the artificial life we lead renders 
 women prematurely old. 
 
 Nothing could equal the general effect of the 
 many beautiful groups and lovely faces, as they 
 sat or stood here and there in this grand saloon. 
 It was a splendid sight, and yet the room had 
 nothing gaudy or even rich in its appearance — no 
 gold, no pictures, no satin chairs, nothing but the 
 whitest of WciUs, marble floors, and hundreds of 
 cane rocking chairs, placed in rows along the 
 rooms. The same elegant simplicity prevailed all 
 through the house ; there was nothing grand nor 
 ricli in it, and yet nothing could have equalled 
 its cool, pleasant aspect, and its undeniable 
 comfort. 
 
 Almost all the rooms opened into the garden, 
 which was full of the most beautiful and costly 
 flowers — such as we never see out of hot-houses in 
 England. The luxuriant vegetation extended its 
 branches into the very apartments, there being 
 no windows to keep them out. 
 
 Inside the house there was another small garden, 
 surrounded by marble colonnades, and ornamented 
 with fountains and statues in the Pompeian style. 
 This inner garden had an awning over it, so that 
 during the hotest hours of the day one was able
 
 202 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 to walk through it into the other parts of the 
 house, which lay across the cool shade of its 
 orange and lemon trees. 
 
 At last, dinner was announced. When we all 
 proceeded in a long procession to the dining-room, 
 another enormous hall as plain as the saloon, and 
 also as cool and as eleo-ant-as the latter. 
 
 o 
 
 The dinner was long and elaborate, as such 
 dinners generally are ; we were, however, too 
 many people for it to be very pleasant. At least 
 fifty negro slaves, all dressed in white liveries, 
 waited upon us, one standing behind every two 
 or three guests. I could not but wonder at the 
 enormous quantity of servants employed in this 
 establishment ; but I wondered no longer wheu 
 Lady Leigh told me that there were at least six 
 hundred slaves on that estate alone, besides many 
 Chinamen, freemen, and white servants. '' The 
 greater part of the slaves," she added, " are, of 
 course, entirely devoted to the field work and the 
 machinery, and never make their appearance in 
 the house." 
 
 AVhen the first service was over, we all got up 
 together, and went for a stroll in the gardens, the 
 sun haviug now gone down ; we shortly returned, 
 however, for the desert, which had been placed 
 on the table durino; our* absence. Cie^arettes were 
 passed round, together with the sweets and fruits, 
 — a custom which, I believe, is very general in 
 the island. The rooms being all open, the ladies
 
 PART THE FIRST. 203 
 
 did not object to the smoking. I did not, how- 
 ever, see any lady indulge in it, although Lady 
 Leiorh told me some of the older ladies did so 
 when by themselves. 
 
 After dinner, the young people proceeded 
 directly to the ball-room. This was a most 
 extraordinary building. In the midst of the 
 garden, surrounded on all sides by trees and 
 flowers, there was an arbour, or rather an immense 
 cage, entirely constructed of gilt wires, through 
 which were twined creepers and vines of various 
 kinds, the grapes hanging gracefully inside. This 
 enormous cage — for I really can find no better 
 name for it — was paved \\dth white marble, and 
 lighted from the top by hundreds of gas jets, 
 which lay hidden amongst the flowers and grapes. 
 
 Such was the ball-room in which we found 
 ourselves after dinner, and which far surpassed 
 in its elegance and brilliancy the most gorgeous 
 of fairy palaces I had ever read about. There 
 was no Asiatic luxury about it, no Alhambra-like 
 marble halls, no gold nor jewels nor fine tapestry, 
 nor invaluable paintings, nothing bnt the beauties 
 of Nature, nothing but the wild, grand, luxurious 
 nature of the tropics to adorn it. 
 
 While the young people danced the hours 
 merrily away in this fairy like ball-room, the 
 older guests were gambling their money away in 
 the scarcely less cool and beautiful drawing-rooms 
 of the house.
 
 204 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 The Cubans in general are passionately fond of 
 gambling, at which they win and lose fabulous 
 sums, sums which alone would ruin most Europ- 
 eans. But in this country, where money is so 
 easily made, gold seems to be but little appre- 
 ciated. 
 
 Tt was a most extraordinary sight to see all 
 these fine ladies, so proud and so beautiful, seated 
 round a table, with heaps of gold before them, 
 forgetting everything in the excitement of the 
 game, whilst their negro slaves stood behind them, 
 fanning them with their enormous fans, and 
 anxiously watching the luck of their mistresses. 
 
 Lilian was here in her element. She flew from 
 the house to the ball-room, danced with one after 
 another, strolled through the dark paths of the 
 garden with one handsome admirer and another ; 
 flirting with each in their turn, and at last, 
 against my entreaties and urgent request, she sat 
 down at a table to play at Baca with a rich 
 banker, who offered to let her have his money if 
 she would give him her luck. 
 
 Displeased with all, and still more disgusted 
 with myself, I walked out of the gay room and 
 wandered alone into the dark alleys of the garden, 
 seeking in the solitude of the night the pleasure I 
 could not derive from any of the gay scenes which 
 surrounded me.
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Alone ! alone ! 
 
 Mrs Hemaxs. 
 
 Who Tv^as 1 in tliis gay palace ? A stranger, a 
 foreigner, unknown, uncared for. What were all 
 these people to me but so many ghosts in a land 
 of shadow ; inhabitants of a world to which I no 
 longer belonged. 
 
 A great crisis was hanging over me ; 1 felt it 
 coming, but I did not dread it ; was it for my 
 good ? I could not tell ; but certainly I was no 
 lono^er the same man. 
 
 There was something preying upon my inner 
 life, so that I could not be gay ; to spend a few 
 hours as formerly amid gaiety and gladness, 
 seemed now to have become utterly impossible 
 for me. I could no longer enter with spirit into 
 either the pastimes, sports, or pleasures of my 
 fellow beings ; so I stole away from the gay 
 crowd and wandered alone, pondering upon the 
 mysteries of nature, with her ever- working, ever- 
 consuming forces. 
 
 It was a beautiful night, there was no moon, 
 but the stars shone brightly over my head, as so 
 many suns of light, and as they only shine in the
 
 2o6 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tropics. The great southern cross was high "upon 
 the southern horizon ; and the refreshing land 
 breeze, which in the tropics prevails by night, 
 giving place to the sea breeze in the day time, 
 played amongst the cactus, waving the enormous 
 leaves of the palm-trees, and filling the air with 
 the rustle of its sweet harmony. 
 
 I stept across the principal alley that led to 
 the ball-room, and which was brilliantly illu- 
 minated with Venetian lamps of a hundred 
 colours. I paced avenue after avenue of the 
 splendid garden, until at last I emerged into a 
 thick wood of plantain-trees and canas-hravas 
 (bamboos). Here, amongst pine apples, bananas, 
 and all the wonders of tropical vegetation, I sat 
 down to meditate. 
 
 I had not been long in this position when I 
 heard voices coming towards me — ^two distinct 
 and soft, but melodious voices. I kept my seat 
 in silence, wondering who could be wandering in 
 the wood at that hour, and who would thus quit 
 the gay ball-room for the solitude of the bush ? 
 
 Then a soft woman's voice whispered at my 
 very side — 
 
 " Can it be possible you love me ! Oh ! this is 
 more than T dare believe." 
 
 I started ; were these words addressed to me ? 
 
 But I was soon convinced of my mistake, for 
 another voice, but this time a manly and richly 
 toned one answered, — " Can you doubt it. Sera-
 
 PART THE FIRST 207 
 
 fina ; can you still doubt my words and my 
 looks ? " 
 
 " Ah ! you men are so false," responded llie first 
 
 voice I had heard ; " and I am so young 
 
 Oh, do not be anorv with me, Carlos : does not 
 my very agitation tell you how I love you ! " 
 
 " Oh ! amor mio." 
 
 And the echo of a long kiss reached my ear. 
 Soon the voices were lost in the thickness of the 
 wood, and I remained once more in solitude. 
 
 " Ah love ! " I then exclaimed, " thou art the 
 true mystery of happiness ; without thee, we are 
 sad, dreary and alone ; and I, who have lost thee, 
 can now only know solitude and sorrow." 
 
 A distant low sound, as of many voices, now 
 came ^dbrating on my ear, it grew louder and 
 louder, then it ceased, and after a time it again 
 burst forth. It resembled the cries of some T^-ikl 
 animals rather than the human voice ; the regu- 
 lar motion of a steam-engine seemed to keep time 
 to the wild voices. 
 
 This told me its origin. It was the wild sing- 
 ing of the negroes in the neighbouring hatey, as 
 they worked the machinery of the sugar-house, 
 chantinoc their wild war-sono-s of central Africa. 
 
 The wind asain chanored, and ao^ain I was left. 
 in total silence, save the never-ceasing hum of 
 the insects, for they, too, were singing as they 
 worked. 
 
 " Even in servitude man can be happy/' I
 
 2o8 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 murmured ; '' even the slave, even the insect, has 
 moments of pleasure, whilst I . ..." 
 
 I \\^as stopped short in the midst of my reflec- 
 tions by two other voices, which seemed to pro- 
 ceed from the very plantain-trees around me. 
 
 " What a delightful spot, Silvestre ! " 
 
 " Yes, when by the side of a beloved one ! " 
 
 " You can soon enjoy it as much as ever you 
 like then, Silvestre, when you are married." 
 
 " Married !" 
 
 " Are you not engaged ?" 
 
 A deep sigh was the only answer to this ques- 
 tion ; the lady's voice was the first to break the 
 silence. 
 
 " Silvestre," she said, " I envy her !" 
 
 " Oh, Pilar, you are not happy with your hus- 
 band ; I know you do not love him. — Confide in 
 me. — Oh, if you could be my wife ! the companion 
 of my life ! but you are married." 
 
 " No one forced me to marry him, Silvestre ; it 
 is my own fault if I have made a mistake ; — but 
 he does all he can to make me happy." 
 
 " And what man would not do as much ? As 
 for me. Pilar, I would gladly give my life to make 
 you happy — even for a single day ! " 
 
 There was a rustling amongst the tall sugar-cane, 
 and then the man's voice again whispered softly, 
 " I love you." 
 
 I heard a distant cry, and then the lady, who 
 said hurriedly,
 
 PART THE FIRST. 209 
 
 " We must fly; we are pursued. — My husband ! 
 Oh, Silvestre, he must not find us together, save 
 me, save me from his jealousy ! " 
 
 The rustling of a dress told me they had gone. 
 I got up and prepared to go in my turn, but the 
 sound of other voices again stopped me. 
 
 This time they were men's voices, and in 
 one I thought I recoo:nised that of the first 
 lover. 
 
 " "Will you go to-morrow to the village ? " it 
 asked. 
 
 " Are you going, Carlos ?'' 
 
 " Yes, my friend, there is a girl there worth 
 all the senoritas in the count's house." 
 
 " I thought you were in love with Serafina." 
 
 " Of course I am in love with her. And what 
 then ? Am I only to love Imr ? That would be 
 very dull work !" 
 
 " And she loves you, the poor girl ?" 
 
 " Of course she does. She has been brought 
 up in the countr}', and I believe I am the first 
 man who has spoken to her of love." 
 
 " And you do not love her ? Are you not 
 ashamed of yourself, Carlos ?" 
 
 " Oh no ! You know one must amuse oneself. 
 When I have done with her I'll pass her over to 
 some friend. But do come to the village to- 
 morrow ; I'll introduce you to my miLchaclia" 
 
 The voices were soon afterwards lost in the 
 thickness of the wood. 
 
 L O
 
 210 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I got up this time, and made my way as best I 
 could out of tlie "platanar. I had heard enough. 
 Was this what they all called love — happiness? 
 Oh, shame I — a wife who deceives her husband ! 
 — a man who deceives an innocent young girl ! — 
 Was this all the world could offer me as an 
 example of happiness and love ? 
 
 " Oh Conchita, Conchita ! " I exclaimed, 
 '* Would to God you were here, that I miglit show 
 them what real love is ! Or that I were with you 
 in your bright home 1 " 
 
 And a cold breeze passed over my brow, as of a 
 kiss, so soft, so sweet, so lingering, that I knew I 
 was not alone.
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " A poor old slave, infirm and lame ; 
 Great scars deformed his face ; 
 On his forehead he bore the brand of shame, 
 And the rags that hid his mangled frame, 
 Were the livery of disgrace." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 As I emerged from the plantain wood, a novel and 
 spirited scene burst upon my view. 
 
 In my rambling walk through the gardens and 
 woods, I had crossed the whole extent of the 
 pleasure-grounds, and now I found myself stand- 
 ing in front of the Batey, or works of the sugar 
 estate, comprising the sugar-mill, purging-house, 
 drying-house, and other important buildings, which 
 are grouped round a large square without a single 
 tree, and called the Batey. 
 
 In the centre of this there were about three 
 hundred slaves, men and women, working at the 
 sugar-cane, placing it in the mill, carrying it into 
 the house, and conveying coals for the different 
 steam-engines. To and fro, to and fro, it was a 
 scene of busy life. AU this work is done at 
 night, on account of the comparative coohiess of 
 the air. As they worked the poor negroes sang
 
 212 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 merrily their wild war-songs, which reminded 
 them of their savage African homes, and perhaps 
 of their beloved families. A strong fragrant odour 
 of boiling sugar served to flavour the scene. 
 
 I had never seen anything of the kind before, 
 so I was quite taken by surprise, coming so un- 
 expectedly as I had done upon it. 
 
 I walked on a little way amongst them to 
 inspect the workers more closely. They looked 
 happy enough, and showed their white teeth, as 
 they attempted to smile, making a half-cunning, 
 half-savage grimace. But another look served to 
 assure me, that what those poor men needed was 
 not so much liberty, as intelligence. They were 
 men in the outward form, but brutes as to their 
 intellect. 
 
 And then the question came to me, — " Why is 
 there such a difference amongst men ? Why is it 
 that we are not all alike ? Surely God is unjust 
 in making some of his children savages and some 
 philosophers ? Why are these things so ? Then, 
 looking into myself, I thought, Why should I be 
 superior to these savages ? What have I done 
 whereby to merit so many privileges % Why was I 
 created an Englishman, a nobleman, and why were 
 these poor men created negroes, to be bought and 
 sold as slaves ? Surely there is more difference be- 
 tween man and man than between man and beast ? 
 But why are these things so ? Surely God must 
 be just in all His works, and yet — "
 
 PART THE FIRST 213 
 
 As I retraced my steps towards tlie wood, an 
 old, decrepit, gray-headed negro approached me. 
 I started back as I perceived his white hair, 
 feeble and bare limbs, worn by toil and age, his 
 squalid, lean countenance, and his tottering, flesh- 
 less frame. He grasped my hand in his convul- 
 sively, and, falling on his knees, he exclaimed, 
 
 ^' La bendicion mi amo" (Your blessing, 
 master.) 
 
 I looked at his unmeaning, unintelligent, and 
 yet cunning countenance, and I shuddered. I 
 had seen old men, worn-out, poor, ignorant, 
 before, but never had 1 seen anything like this 
 poor negro. 
 
 " Su merc^ d^ medio pa tabacco ^ negro viejo 
 mi amo ?" (Will your lordship give some money 
 to the poor old negro for tobacco ? ) he again said 
 in his broken Spanish. 
 
 I threw him a dollar, and, escaping from his 
 grasp, I flew back into the wood. 
 
 As I entered it I saw Professor Farren, who 
 had been behind me all this time. I turned round 
 and addressed him. 
 
 " Doctor," I exclaimed, " can your philosophy 
 explain that ? Can you tell me why I am Lord 
 Carlton and he is a poor savage slave ? " 
 
 He looked puzzled, but did not answer my 
 question. 1 looked at him in silence, and, enter- 
 ing the wood, I again walked on, lost in yet deeper 
 meditation.
 
 XXY. 
 
 " La vida es un mister io." 
 
 Cervantes Saavedra. 
 
 " I may not look where cherubim 
 
 And seraphs cannot see ; 
 But nothing can be good in Him 
 Which evil is in me. 
 
 " The wrong which pains my soul below 
 I dare not throne above : 
 I know not of His hate — I know 
 His goodness and His love." 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 " However strong, hale, and intelligent, noble- 
 man or slave, born unto wealth and power, or 
 born unto poverty and toil, there is the same 
 fate for all you say — annihilation. Why, then, 
 had we a soul given unto us ? — for we have a 
 soul, in spite of your unphilosophical philosophy. 
 ... If, on the contrary, there is immortality, a 
 future heaven beyond the grave, shall we all be 
 alike rewarded or punished there V 
 
 " Of course, Lord Carlton, or at least so say 
 your priests ; tlie good will be happy for ever, 
 the wicked miserable." 
 
 " And is there no progress after death ? . . . .
 
 PART THE FIRST, 215 
 
 ttiat negro, will he never become wise as well as 
 good?" 
 
 "Your church says, *As the tree falls, so it 
 wiU He. ' " 
 
 *' Impossible ! T^Tiere would the justice of 
 God be if such were the case % And you, Doctor, 
 what does your philosophy teach you ? " 
 
 " It teaches only too plainly that there is no 
 after-life. Don't you see now, Lord Carlton, that 
 the doctrines of your church contradict each other 
 in ever}^ respect ? If you believe in a God at all, 
 you must believe Him to be just ; if you believe 
 in immortality, you must believe in eternal pro- 
 gress. All the churches teach you that God is just, 
 and yet that He condemns the greater part, of His 
 children to everlasting torments ; and those who 
 are saved are not so on account of their good 
 works, but by the blood of Jesus Christ, God's 
 only Son sent upon earth to save the world ; and 
 those who do not believe in Christ, or who have 
 never heard of Him, wiU be damned for ever. 
 Where is the sense or the justice of this ?" 
 
 " I know not ! All I can teU you is that this 
 world was not intended for mere eating and 
 drinking, and sinning, as I have seen people do 
 this very evening, which is the natural conse- 
 quence, after all, of these two alternatives. This 
 is not the only life. Doctor ; we are not men for 
 a few days, and dust for ever afterwards ; we 
 have not been created for one short existence —
 
 2i6 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 an existence without meaning or result. Neither 
 is it an earth in which we have been placed for 
 the sole purpose that we might believe in certain 
 doctrines whereby alone we can be saved, or, if 
 we do not believe them, sink into hell for ever- 
 more. Of this I am convinced. . . . Further I 
 know not. . . . But I will solve the secret. I 
 will unfold the mystery of life. From this day 
 my whole existence will be devoted to the solu- 
 tion of this problem, and I will solve it. I will 
 wrench from death its mysterious secret ! "
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " 'Tis woman that seduces all mankind." — Gay. 
 
 After a few hours' sleep and a refreshing bath 
 the next morning, I was once more myself. 
 
 One of the customs to which I never could 
 reconcile myself was to see people come into my 
 room at all hours of the day or night, without so 
 much as knocking to ask permission. As I was 
 dressing that morning in my Httle apartment, a 
 crowd of negro boys and even men were standing 
 in the garden outside my mndow, and one of 
 them went so far as to enter the room and to seat 
 himself in a rocking chair placidly smoking his 
 cigar. He looked quite astonished when he saw 
 how displeased I was, but as he hardly understood 
 any Spanish I found it impossible to tell him to 
 go away. 
 
 In this country the slaves are treated as children 
 of the house, and I must confess in most houses 
 as spoiled cliildren. They go in or out as they 
 please, and, as far as I could see, work as little as 
 possible; in fact, if they were not made to work I 
 think they would not work at all. 
 
 A fact to which I soon got accustomed, but one
 
 2i8 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 which astonished me a great deal at first, is, that 
 the Creoles are infinitely more considerate and 
 humane towards their slaves than are the Euro- 
 peans, who only remain in the island a short time ; 
 be it til at the Creoles feel more s}Tnpathy towards 
 them, from seeing them toil day after day and 
 year after year by their very side ; be it that their 
 patriarchal sort of life extends the paternal care 
 even to the slave ; certain it is that the head of 
 each house is not only kind and just, but also less 
 haughty towards his slaves ; and while he treats 
 them with all the authority of a master, he also 
 cares for their welfare with all the solicitude of a 
 father. So that instead of seeing in their master 
 a cruel tyrant, they only see in him a kind father, 
 ready to do them every good in his power. The 
 consequences are that they hardly ever revolt 
 against their masters, however discontented they 
 might be with the administrator who rules them 
 in his name. The master's appearance will quiet 
 them at once, and even the most turbulent would 
 fall on their knees and ask him for his blessing. 
 
 The European, who takes Avith him to Cuba the 
 refined ideas of his country, begins by feeling for 
 the slave an exalted pity; from this he passes 
 without any transition to despise his ignorance 
 and stupidity, he gets impatient with the unin- 
 telligent savage, and, as the poor negro cannot 
 understand him, he finishes by persuading him- 
 self that the negro is but a beast of burden, and
 
 PART THE FIRST 219 
 
 only too often ends by treating him as sucli, and 
 by beating and ill-using him. 
 
 When I made my appearance in the saloon or 
 drawing-room the next morning, I found it already 
 full of people in spite of the early hour. A group 
 of gentlemen were playing cards in a comer of the 
 room just as I had left them the night before, and 
 the thought occurred to me whether they had been 
 playing there all night ? 
 
 In another corner, standing by the colonnade 
 which opened on the inner garden, were a group 
 of young ladies in muslin dresses, chatting gaily, 
 while they rocked themselves indolently in their 
 respective chairs. 
 
 I wondered as I gazed upon them which was 
 Serafina and which was Pilar ; which was the 
 deceived girl, and which the deceiving wife ! 
 
 But I reproached myself when this thought 
 came into my head for having done so. What 
 had 1 to do with their passions or their crimes ? 
 Who was I to meddle in their private affairs '? and 
 yet I could not but pity the one and despise the 
 other. I wished I had not heard their conversa- 
 tion the night before, but I had not been able to 
 avoid cloino: so, and what could I do ? it was now 
 too late to regret it, as an interest was abeady 
 awakened for them in my mind. 
 
 It served to teach me, however, that even here, 
 in this gay palace, where aU seemed so happy and 
 so unconscious of pain or sorrow, there were
 
 220 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 human passions at work, and many mysteries, 
 many intrigues, unknown, but not less dangerous, 
 not less the germs of future sorrow and misery. 
 
 But I must not go any further without saying 
 a few words about the beauty of the Cuban ladies. 
 
 They are generally of middle height, rather 
 thin than otherwise, with exceedingly small feet 
 and hands, which are their great pride. They 
 hardly ever walk, never in the street, and even 
 when they go out shopping they do not get out of 
 their carriages, but have half the shop brought 
 out for them to choose from ; and yet they are 
 not lazy, they would remain up all night dancing 
 without ever feeling tired; and they would travel 
 for miles on horseback without fatigue, and enjoy 
 the fun above everything. 
 
 They are very white, but their complexions are 
 of the whiteness of ivory, and of a yellowish tint, 
 as if the sun were perpetually shining upon it ; 
 their hair is either of a rich brown or of a still 
 richer black, long and glossy ; they generally dress 
 it in a simple manner, with a rose, or other natural 
 flowers, of which they are passionately fond. 
 
 They dress generally in very simple white 
 muslin or tulle dresses, which they, however, only 
 wear while new and clean ; once washed, they are 
 passed over to the slave girls, who, in this way, 
 always look fresh and clean. Their great luxury 
 is in their white silk shoes and stockings, which 
 they also give away when almost new. They
 
 PART THE FIRST. 221 
 
 would scorn any other kind of chaussure, for tlie 
 prettiest of Parisian liigh-heeled boots would be 
 too coarse and too heavy for their delicate and 
 tender feet. 
 
 Some of them have beautiful diamonds, mostly 
 set in Madrid or Paris. In the country house 
 where I was now stopping, I remarked some 
 truly magnificent stones ; the Countess of 
 Guanabacoa herself possessing perhaps the hand- 
 somest. But the Cuban women possess the 
 greatest of their treasures in their own persons. 
 
 Their movements which partake of a voluptuous 
 langour, and their soft and melodious voices, 
 contrast with the extreme vivacity of their 
 physiognomy, and with the rays of fire which 
 escape from their beautiful eyes, through the long 
 and abundant eyelids which veil them. 
 
 Such is a Cuban woman — a true daughter 
 of the tropics — passionate yet chaste, beautiful, 
 and yet good and charming, in a moral as well as 
 in a physical point of view. 
 
 As soon as they are born, they have a slave 
 girl given to them, who becomes their companion 
 throughout their lives, and who, of course, 
 becomes free as soon as they marry. 
 
 Their fathers never consult their own private 
 ends in the union of their daughters, neither are 
 they exhibited for sale as they too often are in 
 England, ready for any proposals, and pnflfed ojQf 
 by their mothers, until the highest bidder takes
 
 222 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 them off their hands. The Cuban girls are 
 engaged at an early age, generally to a relation ; 
 for their parents have a strong objection to mix 
 up their blood, as they call it. The young people 
 are brought up together, and thus, in most cases, 
 their union proves a happy one, for they know 
 each other so well before marriage that they can 
 hardly be disappointed when they mutually 
 discover that they are not the angels they thought 
 each other to be. 
 
 After breakfast, which was as long and as 
 important a meal as the dinner had been the day 
 before, the young people again resorted to the 
 ball-room ; and the rest seated themselves once 
 more at their card tables ; indeed, their whole lives 
 seemed to be nothing but a continual round of 
 dancing and gambling from morning till night. 
 
 Before leaving the table, however, the Count 
 got up and proposed to his guests to make an 
 excursion on the morrow to a neighbouring coffee 
 estate. 
 
 This proposal was received with great acclama- 
 tions of delight by every one present. And the 
 question was directly put — how shall we go ? 
 
 Some proposed we should all go on horseback. 
 This was strongly objected to by the handsome 
 duchess, who sat at the count's right hand. 
 
 " Jesus Maria ! " she exclaimed, " do you 
 expect me to go on horseback ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, Duchess," said our kind host ; " every
 
 PART THE FIRST 223 
 
 one will go as best he pleases. I put my horses 
 and carriages at your disposal, my friends ; yo,u 
 can each choose your mode of conveyance." 
 
 At fii'st I was rather inclined to remain at 
 Azucena, but my neighbour, Don Jose Cardenas, 
 assured me that it was quite worth seeing, and 
 said that I was sure to amuse myself. 
 
 " By the by," he added, " what do you intend 
 doino; this evenino^ ? " 
 
 " I ? nothing that I know of in particular," I 
 answered. 
 
 " Ah ! then you had better come with me to 
 the velorio in the village." 
 
 " What on earth is that, Don Jos^ ? " I asked, 
 surprised by his extraordinary proposal. 
 
 " Do not be so thunder-struck, Jwmbi^e," he 
 said. " A rich guajiro in the neighbouriug vil- 
 lage is dead, and there will be a reception at the 
 widow's house to-night before the funeral. This 
 is what is called a velorio. Do come." And he 
 added in a low voice, between sarcasm and mys- 
 tery, "You are sure to amuse yourself." 
 
 " But what pleasure can there be in looking at 
 a dead man ? " 
 
 " You will see when you come. It is one of 
 the customs amongst the lower classes of the 
 island — a very curious one certainly, and one no 
 foreigner should leave unseen. But mind you 
 do not tell any of the fine people in this house
 
 224 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 where you are going, for of course they would 
 think it their duty to be shocked." 
 
 " Going to watch by a dead man I " I thought, 
 as I left the table ; " what pleasure can there be 
 in that ! Yet this man seems to think it rather 
 amusing. Some people can discover amusement 
 in everything. At all events, we shall see."
 
 XXYIL 
 
 " In all distresses of our friends, 
 We first consult our private ends ; 
 While Nature, kindly bent to ease us. 
 Points out some circumstance to please us." 
 
 — Swift (after La Rochefoucauld). 
 
 After dinner, we were in the large saloon, which 
 opened, as I have before said, into the inner 
 garden. The Countess, sitting in a rocking- 
 chair by the side of a colossal and rare tropical 
 plant placed in a handsome Sevres vase, was 
 talking with the Duqnesa de Miranda, who always 
 needed some one to amuse her, and who could 
 only talk about her absent son, who was now 
 making a grand tour in Europe, after having 
 completed his education at Beaumont College, 
 Windsor; as his devoted mama proudly informed 
 every one. 
 
 The Count was, with a few other friends, talk- 
 ing with the reverend old chaplain whilst they 
 smoked their Havanas ; and I was in the centre 
 of a gay group round the piano, composed of the 
 youngest portion of the party, listening to some 
 beautiful Spanish songs, and chatting of one 
 thing and another, till the hghts would be lighted 
 
 I. P
 
 226 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 in the ball-room, and the real business of the 
 night might begin. 
 
 Presently the bell of the little chapel sang out 
 the melodious chimes of the Oracion, or vesper, 
 for it was already eight o'clock ; and then all 
 conversation suddenly ceased as if by magic ; the 
 greater part of the visitors stood, whilst a few 
 knelt down, all lost in silent prayer. 
 
 Then I felt the pressure of a hand upon my 
 shoulder, and, turning round, I recognised my 
 friend Don Jose, who, with a slight movement of 
 his eyes, and an unmistakeable expression of his 
 face, bade me follow him out of the room. 
 
 I understood the meaning of this, so I followed 
 him in silence, not only out of the room, but out 
 of the house. 
 
 We traversed the terraces and gardens, and soon 
 found ourselves in the cane-fields, which we 
 crossed one after another. A short walk brought 
 us at last to the village of Corral Falso. 
 
 This we found to be a pretty little place of 
 about 1400 inhabitants, belonging in its greater 
 part to the Count, as my friend told me. In the 
 centre is situated the church, surrounded by a 
 square planted with trees, round which are 
 grouped the principal buildings, the barracks, the 
 bank, the theatre, &c. The streets are straight, 
 and cut each other at right angles, as indeed all 
 the streets in the island do. 
 
 We saw some good shops as we passed, but we
 
 PART THE FIRST, 227 
 
 did not stop to examine anything, as we were 
 late already. 
 
 Every house has a rustic verandah in front, most 
 of them built of wood, but some with stone pillars. 
 These were gaily decorated with palm-leaves and 
 flags, in honour of the patron saint of the Countess, 
 (Santa Catalina) who is also the patroness of the 
 village, and some of the houses exhibited great 
 taste in their decorations. 
 
 At last we arrived at the dead man's house, 
 situated near the railway station, and surrounded 
 by trees. I saw at a glance that this house was 
 about the best in the place; and calculated there- 
 fore that the dead man must have been very rich, 
 although only a guajiro. 
 
 As we entered the saloon, which opened into 
 the verandah, unpreceded by any hall, a new 
 and extraordinary sight met our eyes. The 
 room was full of people, and brilliantly lighted. 
 In the centre, raised to a. considerable height on 
 a black velvet catafalque, or funeral canopy, lay 
 the dead man surrounded by a hundred torches, 
 which threw a ghastly light over his livid fea- 
 tures. In front of the bier there was a large silver 
 cross and a priest on his knees praying. 
 
 In a corner of the room, surrounded by her 
 children and family, was the widow, dressed in 
 black ; she did not cry, but her eyes were red, 
 and showed signs of recent tears. On her knees 
 her youngest boy was playing with a little negro
 
 228 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 of his own age, ignorant of the loss he had sus- 
 tained. 
 
 This melancholy spectacle was most decidedly 
 not to my friend's taste, so, after bowing low to 
 the widow, he hurried as fast as he could across 
 the room, to the other part of the house which 
 lay behind it. I followed him as fast I could, 
 for this sad scene revived too vividly remem- 
 brances in my mind that were seldom absent 
 from it. As we passed the corpse, however, I 
 could not but cast a glance at it. There it lay in 
 all its funeral pomp and splendour, and around 
 it were grouped a few devoted slaves, who still 
 clung to their lost master. Why was he dead ? 
 Why had that man become a cold corpse all at 
 once ? What is death 1 ay ! and more still, 
 what is life ? Can this man be dead ? dead for 
 ever ? Can he have gone to a distant heaven, 
 forgetting his family, his wife — all his earthly 
 ties and loves 1 Will his new home be heaven to 
 him when he recollects what he has left behind ? 
 
 All these thoughts rushed into my mind before 
 I could recover myself from the ghastly sight, 
 and I turned sick and faint, and would have fallen 
 to the ground, if Don Jos^ had not taken me by 
 the arm and forced me out of the room. 
 
 The cool air of the court-yard revived me, and 
 with a firm step I entered the saloon beyond, with 
 the determination to drive all such sad thouorhts 
 out of my burning head.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 229 
 
 Here a scene of a totally different character 
 met our eyes. This room, which was smaller 
 than the first, was crowded with people of all 
 aofes and stations, who formed various animated 
 groups aroimd it ; the youngest played at loto, 
 and at dominoes, at a side-table ; and their 
 laughter and gay talk was heard all over the 
 room. The older portion of the guests were 
 seated at another table on the opposite side, 
 busily engaged with a good supper, and scarcely 
 less gay ; whilst in the centre a third group, 
 composed of the old maids of the collage and a 
 few priests, were listening to the merits, riches, 
 and particulars of the illness of their dead host, 
 and speculating on the amount he had left for his 
 family, as his worldly goods were enumerated in 
 detail by an old housekeeper, who smiled through 
 her tears, and, as any one could see, was quite 
 in her glory, at being listened to with so much 
 attention by all the comadres and compodres of 
 the village ; who, I suppose generally, had too 
 much to say of their own, to listen to any one 
 else's gossip. 
 
 Don Jose turned round and smiled at me, as 
 we entered the gay apartment and this animated 
 scene met our eyes, but I turned mine away in 
 disoTist. I cannot tell which of the two scenes 
 seemed to me at the time the most melancholy, 
 whether the sad sorrow of the former, or the dis- 
 gusting mockery of the latter.
 
 230 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 All I know is, that at that moment I hated 
 poor Don Jos^ for having brought me to such a 
 place, and without another word I left the house 
 and returned, as fast as I could, to the sugar 
 estate ; but not without losing mj way in the 
 dark cane-fields more than once, and leaving por- 
 tions of my coat in the wild cactus and prickly 
 hedges.
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 *' All is of God : If He but wave His hand, 
 
 The mists collect, the rain falls thick and loud, 
 Till, with a smile of light on sea and land, 
 Lo ! He looks back from the departing cloud. 
 
 '* Angels of life and death alike are His ; 
 
 Without His leave they pass no threshold o'er ; 
 "Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, 
 Against His messengers to shut the door ? " 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 My room in the Ingenio Acucena was, as I have 
 said before, on the ground floor, below the 
 terraces, and opening into the garden, from 
 which I could enter it without fifoinor throucrh the 
 rest of the house. 
 
 To this room I repaired when I reached the 
 house. Too much pained and disgusted with 
 what I had seen to enjoy the gay society of Lady 
 Leigh and her friends that evening, I shut myself 
 up in my apartment, and was soon lost in medi- 
 tation. 
 
 "How uncertain is life!" I thought; "how 
 certain death ! and yet how little do people 
 trouble themselves about either the one or the 
 other — they take it as a matter of course ; and 
 perhaps that is the true way, after all, of viewing 
 the subject, the real meaning of which we cannot
 
 232 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 understand. It is the most philosophical way, at 
 all events, and yet there is something in the 
 subject that attracts and fascinates me with its 
 mournful spell, and absorbs my thoughts so much 
 that it allows me to think of little else besides ; 
 life seems to me as nought by the side of death. 
 
 "All my sympathies, all my love, lie on the 
 other side of the grave ; my father, my mother, 
 my wife, all the friends of my youth, have passed 
 away from me ; and yet I feel for them just as I 
 did when they were still on earth. Can death be 
 annihilation, as Professor Farren tries to prove ? 
 
 " Eeason teaches us that vice, crime, wicked- 
 ness, deserve punishment and expiation ; and 
 that virtue, goodness, faith, deserve in the same 
 way reward and happiness. The ancient Egyp- 
 tian philosophers, and Moses after them, thought 
 thus. They therefore based their laws and com- 
 mandments upon this foundation. The old dis- 
 pensation teaches us to do good in order that we 
 may be happy here, and to fear the immediate con- 
 sequences of evil. The rewards and the punish- 
 ment both pertain only to this life. " Honour 
 thy father and thy mother, that thy days may he 
 long upon the land which the Lord thy God 
 giveth thee." But is this always the case '? On 
 the contrary, experience soon teaches us that 
 fortune, in nine cases out of ten, favours the 
 wicked. How often do we see the ill-doer not 
 only live unpunished, but even, as the conse-
 
 PART THE FIRST. 233 
 
 quence of his crimes, obtain a large fortune, with 
 worldly honours and power, and after long years 
 spent in perfect happiness, die respected by a,ll 
 men, and blessed by many ; whilst the honest 
 man, on the contrary, whose virtuous scruples, 
 and love of justice and goodness, divide him from 
 fortune and friends, lives but to be laughed at 
 and scorned ; and only too often dies forgotten 
 and calumniated. 
 
 " The newer revelation still holds out for the 
 wicked the same fear of punishment, and for the 
 righteous the promise of reward, happiness, and 
 glory ; but removes both beyond the grave, to 
 another world, which is to be the sequel of this ; 
 and in which the TVTong-doer shall meet his punish- 
 ment, and the right-doer his reward. 
 
 "And this is quite a rational behef, and one 
 which we must accept, if we hold God to be just 
 and merciful, as we do. It is well for those who 
 deny the existence of a God to deny also the 
 immortality of the soul ; but those who believe 
 in one must necessarily believe in the other, as 
 the natural consequence of the first belief. 
 
 *• But at the same time that the justice of the 
 law requires expiation, it also must need this 
 expiation to be only proportionate to the gravity 
 of the infraction. The fault requires a punish- 
 ment, but one equal to it, neither greater nor less ; 
 at least this is the law of justice. Tiie more I 
 have exceeded the standard in the quantity of
 
 234 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 my food, the more dangerous and painful will be 
 the indigestion, which is the natural consequence 
 of over-eating. But the reaction can only last as 
 long: as the eflfects of the action. If the sinner 
 recognise his errors, and correct them ; if he sin 
 no more, the law being no longer violated, the 
 nature of things being no longer out of divine 
 order, the retributive action can no longer take 
 place ; because the violating cause is already at 
 an end. 
 
 " The same reasoning, therefore, that proves to 
 us the necessity of future rewards and punish- 
 ments in another life, proves also that those 
 rewards and punisliments must be in exact ac- 
 cordance with the good or bad deeds here com- 
 mitted. The punishments could, therefore, only 
 be eternal, if it were possible to find a being 
 eternally wicked, eternally in opposition to God's 
 law. And then only, would eternal punishment 
 be just. But this cannot be, for pain, the 
 greatest of educators, must necessarily do its 
 work, and end by opening the eyes of the most 
 obstinate. 
 
 " But if we believe that in that other life, the 
 happiness or misery of which is but the conse- 
 quence of this, we can yet repent of our sins and 
 attain unto virtue, would this not prove that 
 there must be progress in that other life ? 
 
 " The more I think of this, the clearer it seems 
 to me. Our life upon earth may be summed up
 
 PART THE FIRST 235 
 
 in one word, progress ; can this progress stop in 
 the crave ? For this to be the case, our natures 
 must necessarily undergo a total change, for our 
 present nature is progressive, and if we were to 
 change our nature with our body, should we not 
 also change our identity, and become a totally 
 different beins; ? " 
 
 As my thoughts wandered on, ever meditating 
 on this endless and fruitful subject, I felt myself 
 gradually losing consciousness of the scene around 
 me. I lay with my arms folded over my writing 
 table, and my head lying heavily upon them ; by 
 degrees I lost all consciousness in sleep. 
 
 I cannot tell how long I may have slept, but I 
 had a dream, a long fascinating dream, that 
 miofht have lasted hours, for so it seemed to me. 
 I saw anorels floatinor aroimd me, brio^ht orbs of 
 light, and sweet melodious music, sweeter, and 
 more intense in its power than any I had ever 
 heard before, sounded in my ear, and I saw Con- 
 chita in the midst of clouds and rainbows, radiant 
 with light and harmony, her golden hair forming 
 a brilliant halo around her angel face. 
 
 But it was only a dream, the wild, incoherent, 
 but happy dream of a lover ; and when I awoke, 
 I was sorry it was so soon over. 
 
 But what was my astonishment when I moved, 
 to see upon the table over which I had been 
 leaning, a piece of paper covered with some un- 
 known characters, to me unintelligible. How came
 
 236 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 they there ? Surely no one had entered the room 
 during my sleep ? And if they had, my arms 
 were upon it, they could not have placed anything 
 under them without awaking me. 
 This is the paper I held in my hand. 

 
 XXIX. 
 
 " Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant 
 Let the dead Past bury iis dead ! 
 -Act — act in the living Present I 
 Heart \vithin and God o'er head! " 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 The next day was Tuesday, wliicli on this estate 
 is kept as Sunday, and no work whatever is done. 
 
 In certain districts of the island where, Hke 
 this, many estates join each other, it has been 
 found necessary to chose a different day of rest 
 for each one, in order that the neoToes of one 
 should not meet and mix with those of another. 
 
 In this way each estate has a Sunday of its 
 own, and is able to maintain its neo:roes and its 
 coolies free from any contamination which might 
 prove dangerous to both proprietors ; for one can 
 never be sure of the behaviour of savao^es. 
 
 I spent the whole of the morning in my room, 
 trying to decipher the curious cryptogram I had 
 so mysteriously received the previous evening ; 
 but all my endeavours proved useless ; I showed 
 it to Professor Farren, and others, no one knew 
 where it came from, and what is more, no one 
 cared. But I, at least, could not but feel 
 intensely interested in its interpretation. Could 
 it really have come from another world \
 
 238 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 My little apartment, which I do not think I 
 have yet described, and of which I was beginning 
 to get particularly fond, was rather a small 
 room, although very lofty ; it had two window- 
 doors which opened, as I think I have already 
 said, into the lower garden ; these windows, like 
 all I have seen in Cuba, were totally unfurnished 
 with glass, but were provided with Venetian 
 blinds, which opened and shut from the inside, 
 and had massive shutters of Cedarwood for the 
 night, which, however, I never found it necessary 
 to close, for the weather was warm, and as far as 
 insects of any kind were concerned, I saw none 
 that could trouble me. 
 
 On the opposite side to these windows, and 
 facing them, was a large door which opened into 
 a corridor or gallery, into which several other 
 rooms also opened. Besides this door, which was 
 of solid mahogany, there was an inside door 
 which only reached to the middle of the door- 
 way, thus permitting a free circulation of air, 
 and which was entirely constructed of polished 
 mahogany Venetian blinds. This second door was 
 for the warm weather, when the larger one 
 always stood wide open, for a constant draught 
 is almost necessary ; and yet a door of some kind 
 is also desirable to insure privacy and comfort. 
 
 The floor was of white and green marble, 
 arranged in a geometrical pattern. The walls 
 were white as usual, excepting the coloured
 
 PART THE FIRST. 239 
 
 border round the lower part, which was of pretty 
 little tiles in the Moorish style. The ceiling was 
 of painted wood, resembling polished mahogany, 
 at least so it seeemed to me from below. 
 
 The bed was, of course, a true Creole one, 
 without any mattresses or blankets of any kind ; 
 a couple of sheets and pillows, with a silk 
 coverlet, forming its entire furniture. But these 
 were indeed luxurious in the extreme ; they had 
 a deep lace all round, and above this a fine 
 embroidery in floss silk, of the most vivid colours. 
 They were besides starched in such a way that it 
 was as much as I could do to keep them over me 
 at night, they were so slippery. 
 
 The Cuban ladies are very proud of their linen, 
 which they embroider and trim with as much 
 lace as they possibly can, all which work is done 
 at home by the slave girls ; even the towels are 
 richly embroidered in various colours, and sur- 
 rounded by lace ; but as they also, like the 
 sheets, are starched until they become as stiff 
 as paper, they are almost useless, for directly 
 one puts them to one's face, all the starch comes 
 out upon it. 
 
 This fancy of starching everything to such a 
 ridiculous degree is, to my taste, a very disagree- 
 able one. I remember once my things came 
 from the laundress, starched all over, and so stiff, 
 that I could scarcely put them on. 
 
 A writing-table, a dressing-table, a wardrobe,
 
 240 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 and a few cane chairs, completed the furniture of 
 mj room, together with a marble slab with silver 
 basin, to which there were tubes of hot and cold 
 water attached, in the American style. 
 
 Our much talked-of excursion to the neighbour- 
 ing coflfee estate was to take place on the after- 
 noon of this day, which was to amuse us, and 
 pass the time previous to the great feast of the 
 morrow, when we were to celebrate the great day. 
 
 Almost all the guests formed part of the 
 excursion, so we were a very large party. All 
 the Count's carriages and horses were put in 
 requisition, and many were obliged to hire con- 
 veyances from the village. There were carriages 
 of all kinds — from the native volanta to the 
 Eno^lish drao^ — from the eleo;ant barouche of the 
 Countess, to the dog- cart of the Administrator. 
 Many went on horseback, I amongst them ; and 
 Lady Leigh would also have joined us if she had 
 had her habit with her, but unfortunately she had 
 left it behind her in Washington. 
 
 We were soon en route, the volantas and 
 carriages in front, while we rode behind, cantering 
 over the fresh grass which grew on either side. 
 
 The road was very narrow — so much so, that 
 the carriages had to follow each other in single 
 file — but it was a lovely road, although rather 
 rough, lined with cane-fields, and often passing 
 through woods of plantain and orange-trees, the 
 thick branches of which ensured a cool shade over
 
 PART THE FIRST. 241 
 
 the hot road, filling it with their sweet perfume. 
 Here and there a lofty palm or cactus spoke to 
 us of the tropics, whilst large high ceibas, the 
 only tree which amongst all this grand vegetation 
 ever loses its leaves, reminded us of the advanced 
 season of the year which the oranges and bananas 
 on the other trees might easily have made us 
 forget. 
 
 Gaily we rode along, some jesting and others 
 flirting with the ladies, and talking to those in 
 the carriages, when presently the one in which 
 Lady Leigh was sitting, and which happened to 
 be the first, stopped. Of coui^se the whole pro- 
 cession of carriages had to halt also. I, and 
 several others, rode on to see the cause of the 
 stoppage ; we found that one of the reins had got 
 loose, and the postillion had dismounted to set it 
 to rights. I was talking to her, and asking her 
 how she enjoyed the drive, when all of a sudden, 
 the horses taking fright, dashed ofi" down the road 
 before them, full gallop, lea^dng the dismounted 
 postillion and all of us, thunder-struck in the 
 middle of the road. 
 
 Lilian gave a scream as she flew past me, and, 
 as I thought, fainted. 
 
 Then began a race as if for life ; everybody 
 thought it his duty to gallop after the runaway 
 volanta ; so on we went, helter-skelter, one after 
 the other, horses and carriages, as hard as we 
 could down the straight road. 
 
 I. Q
 
 242 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 To no one did it occur that this wild chase 
 would only frighten the runaway horses all the 
 more ; on we went as fast ^s we could tear, down 
 one hill and up another, till at last I began to 
 think the race would never end. 
 
 My horse fortunately was sa very good one — a 
 thorough -bred, of English extraction, belonging to 
 the Count — so I was not afraid for myself; and 
 the idea struck me that if I could jump over the 
 hedge and gallop through one of the fields, I might 
 cut off an angle, and arrive at the turn of the road 
 before the runaway volanta. 
 
 I did so without much difficulty, and two 
 others followed my example ; but not even this 
 seemed to be of much use, for the horses, more 
 frightened tfian ever, galloped faster than we 
 could do, so we were always behind them, and 
 seemed to gain but little ground. 
 
 A large forest of palms, surrounded by bamboos 
 and cactuses, was now in front of us, forming the 
 end of the fields, and dividing the two estates. 
 Our only chance, therefore, was to arrive there 
 before the carriage ; for if not, we would probably 
 have to lament a catastrophe, for it would inevi- 
 tably be dashed against the trees before the horses 
 could make their way through the thick branches, 
 out into the open country on the other side. 
 
 We galloped harder than ever ; I do not think 
 I have ever ridden so fast before ; trees and fields 
 seemed to cross my eyes before I could even
 
 PART THE FIRST. 243 
 
 look at them. But my horse was in front now. 
 I was gaining ground, and, out of breath, I arrived 
 at last at the edge of the forest. I looked up ; 
 the carriage was behind, although the horses, 
 covered with foam, seemed as if they would rush 
 on me. 
 
 I made a last effort, and jumped over the 
 cactus hedge, running the risk of killing my good 
 horse, and perhaps breaking my neck -, but I was 
 excited, and thouo-ht of nothino^ at that moment 
 but of saving the lady if possible. 
 
 I landed at the other side of the hedge just as 
 the volanta was passing ; the horses, startled at 
 seeing me all at once in the middle of the road, 
 stopped ; and one of them, stepping on a stone, 
 fell down heavily, bringing the carriage down 
 upon him, for these vehicles have no fore wheels 
 whereon to rest. 
 
 I jumped down from my horse and received 
 Lilian Leigh in my arms, just as the sudden 
 stoppage of the carriage pitched her forward upon 
 the road.
 
 XXX. 
 
 " Umile in tanta gloria." 
 
 Petrarch. 
 
 I HELD her, in my arms, I pressed her against my 
 heart. There she lay insensible ; her beautiful 
 hair, escaped from the one comb that confined it, 
 hung loosely over her brow ; her dress was in dis- 
 order. Beautiful I — ah ! she was beautiful as she 
 thus lay, light as a feather, near my beating heart ! 
 
 For one moment my head swam round. 1 saw 
 nothing but those heavenly features and that 
 perfect form. I felt my heart beat, and my 
 reason give way. I felt drawn towards her by a 
 force I was unable to resist. A cold shiver ran 
 through my whole frame — and, leaning forward, 
 I pressed my burning lips against those cold, pale 
 lips of hers ! 
 
 A shock ran through me. I turned round, 
 and, to my dismay, I saw all the party grouped 
 behind me, ladies and gentlemen, servants and 
 slaves, there they all were ! They must have 
 seen my involuntary, my insane action ! 
 
 I felt ready to sink into the ground. 
 
 At that moment I would have given worlds
 
 PART THE FIRST. 245 
 
 not to have been the one who had thus saved her. 
 Every one, of course, offered me their compli- 
 ments and their congratulations. They might 
 have seen the kiss, but if they did, they were 
 discreet enough to keep it to themselves, for they 
 said nothing about it to me. I, however, could 
 not forget it, and I am afraid I must have pre- 
 sented the most ridiculous picture in the moment 
 of my triumph. 
 
 Lilian soon recovered, and came back to her 
 senses. Mrs Herbert, the Countess, and all the 
 other ladies, inundated her with eau-de-cologne, 
 and even the handsome Duchess stepped out of 
 the barouche and presented her with her j ewelled 
 vinaigrette. 
 
 As soon as she learnt who had saved her, she 
 came towards me, her bright blue eyes sparkling 
 amidst her tears. 
 
 " Lord Carlton," she said, putting her small 
 hand on mine, "you have been twice my deliverer. 
 This is the second time I owe my life to you. Is 
 there no way in which a poor helpless woman like 
 me can reward your courage and " — looking ten- 
 derly at me, she whispered — " your affection ? " 
 
 "We must crown him," suggested some one 
 behind me. 
 
 The strain was taken up immediately by all — 
 
 " Yes, we must crown him 1 " 
 
 " Lilian should crown her deliverer ! '' 
 
 " He deserves to be crowned 1 "
 
 246 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " El Caballero Campeador ! " 
 
 " Beauty should reward her preserver I " 
 was shouted on all sides. Lilian lifted her eyes 
 once more till they met mine. 
 
 " You see, Lord Carlton," she whispered, " I 
 have to crown you. Will you accept this from 
 my hands ? " 
 
 Of course I was obliged to submit ; and a few 
 seconds afterwards the young ladies had twined a 
 crown of laurel-leaves and orange-flowers, which 
 they presented to Lilian. 
 
 I knelt down at her feet, while she placed the 
 crown on my head. 
 
 " Sir Knight," she said, " be for ever faithful 
 and brave ! " 
 
 These words were followed by great shouts and 
 acclamations of applause. Our names were 
 coupled together, and even the handsome Duchess 
 of Miranda forgot her absent son, and compli- 
 mented me on my beautiful intended, as now 
 every one pleased to call Lilian Leigh. 
 
 The congratulations were now put a stop to, 
 and the general group was dispersed by the Count, 
 who said in his usual kind and considerate way, 
 " Now, my friends, we must make haste. We 
 have lost too much time already, and Don Juan 
 is waiting for us at his cafetal." 
 
 We were near the gates of the coffee estate to 
 which we were going, so a drive of a few minutes 
 brought us to our destination.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 247 
 
 We aclvanced through the guar da -ray a, a 
 stately avenue of palm-trees leading to the 
 house. 
 
 Nothing can possibly equal the beauty of the 
 scene which now surrounded us. On either side 
 of the avenue, and extending for miles all around, 
 were the coffee-fields, now in full blossom, in 
 spite of the early season of the year. As far as 
 the eye could reach was a vast sea of enormous 
 green shrubs, whose branches, mingling ^siih. one 
 another, covered the entire superficies of the rich 
 red soil, whilst, scattered over this sea of green, 
 the beautiful white blossoms of the coffee looked 
 like millions of snowdrops hanging in thick 
 bunches, clustering closely around each stem. 
 
 Over the ever-green coffee-plants waved high 
 in air, casting a cool shadow upon them, cotton- 
 plants, plantain and banana trees, cocoa-nut, 
 Indian laurel, cedar, orange, fig, lemon, tama- 
 rind, and other tropical trees ; for nature seemed 
 indeed to have been prodigal of her bounties to 
 this favoured land. 
 
 And now we arrived at the residence, a large, 
 two-floored house, situated in the middle of the 
 Batey, — for a coffee estate has also its Batey, the 
 same as a sugar estate, consisting, in this case, of 
 tendales or store-houses, secaderos or large stone 
 squares, for drying the coffee in the sun, pumping- 
 mill (molino de pila), Barracon or barracks for 
 the negroes, hospital, casa de vivienda (residence),
 
 248 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 and a hundred other buildings, all grouped to- 
 gether around a large square. 
 
 Behind the house were the gardens, extensive 
 and beautiful, as they always are in Cuba, full of 
 statues, fountains, and summer-houses, and offer- 
 ing a cool shade during the hottest hours of the 
 day. 
 
 Don Juan Aguilas, the master of the house, 
 came out to receive us, and politely offered us his 
 house in the true Castilian fashion, " Esta casa 
 estd d la disposicion de ustedes, senoresy 
 
 We partook of refreshments in the garden, 
 under the orange and lemon trees, and after this 
 the more mature amongst us sat down about 
 the gardens to converse, whilst the rest walked 
 through the gardens and shrubberies, and the 
 more practical retired to the Batey, to inspect 
 the machinery and study the process of culti- 
 vating and making coffee. 
 
 I joined them, quitting the gay society of the 
 fair ones, and went with them deep into the par- 
 ticulars of this highly interesting manufactory, 
 which I must confess was Greek to me ; but I did 
 this in order to avoid the repeated congratulations 
 and tender looks of Lilian, and the gossip and sly 
 jokes of the young -ladies, who had witnessed my 
 unfortunate kiss ; so rashly, so foolishly be- 
 stowed. 
 
 I was not sorry therefore, when, later in the 
 afternoon, we returned to the sugar estate. I
 
 PART THE FIRST 249 
 
 rode back as I had come, but kept bebind with 
 the men, and abstained from any communication 
 with Lilian or the other ladies. 
 
 The evening was spent as usual, in gambling, 
 dancing, and music, but I retired early to my 
 room, and soon a quiet sleep made me oblivious, 
 for the time, to what I considered the unfortunate 
 and disagreeable events of the day.
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " La ilusion que se suena hechiza el alma, 
 La ilusion que se toca . . . hace llorar." 
 
 Unpublished Poem. 
 
 The next day was the feast of Santa Catalina, 
 the patroness of the village, as also the saint of 
 our kind hostess, the Countess of Guanabacoa. 
 
 In the morning there was a review of the 
 soldiers and volunteers, which took place in the 
 square in front of the house, from the marble 
 balconies of which we enjoyed a beautiful view of 
 the whole proceedings. 
 
 The uniform of the volunteers is picturesque as 
 well as suited to the climate. It consists of coats 
 and trowsers of white and blue striped linen, 
 turned over and trimmed with scarlet, high boots, 
 and large straw hats, with a red and yellow ribbon 
 and cockade (Spanish colours) round it. 
 
 They are fine men, and looked quite soldier- 
 like as they galloped on their fine steeds before 
 the house. 
 
 The Spanish soldiers also looked very well in 
 their linen uniforms. Their dress was quite new 
 to me, for in Spain, of course, it is very different ; 
 but I do think a great deal of good sense as weU
 
 PART THE FIRST. 251 
 
 as taste has been displayed in this, for the climate 
 is a great deal too hot to wear regular uniforms 
 of heavy cloth as they do in Europe. 
 
 But I could not help shuddering as I beheld 
 those poor soldiers, the greater part of them very 
 young men, sent out to die in this distant land, 
 victims of its tropical climate, far away from their 
 homes and families. 
 
 Oh Spain ! it is only with the blood of thy 
 children thou canst keep the finest colony which 
 is now left thee, of the once colossal transatlantic 
 empire, that once owned thy sway. 
 
 In the afternoon we all repaired to the village, 
 to attend the grand procession, for which so many 
 preparations had been made. 
 
 It was late before we arrived there, the sun 
 had already gone down, and as there is no 
 twilight in the tropics, the many illuminations 
 showed to the greatest advantage. 
 
 We went to the doctor s house, from whence, 
 those who did not walk in the procession, were 
 to see it pass. 
 
 An hour more elapsed however, before it 
 reached the street in which this house was situ- 
 ated, which hour we passed in talking, laughing, 
 eating sweatmeats, and taking ices and cool 
 beverages. 
 
 We were in the great verandah in front of the 
 house, which had been carpeted and hung with 
 silk damask, and decorated with palm leaves and
 
 252 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 large banners, on which were painted the wheel 
 of martyrdom, being the celestial arms of St 
 Catherine. 
 
 Mrs Herbert, Lady Leigh, Professor Farren, 
 and many others were sitting before a large 
 table which had been placed there temporarily, 
 eating strawberries and guayavas, whilst on the 
 other side of the verandah was a group of ladies 
 discussing the dresses, jewels, and miraculous 
 power of the Image whose feast we were cele- 
 brating. 
 
 " Have you seen the dress, Nieves ?" asked an 
 old lady of a pretty little brunette, who sat by 
 her side. 
 
 "No, I believe it only arrived yesterday, but 
 it must be very beautiful; just fancy, it is of gold 
 brocade, and embroidered with pearls, real pearls, 
 I believe." 
 
 " The Countess has lent her her jewels, I have 
 heard," said another. 
 
 "Indeed," suggested an old maid, the lady 
 companion of the Duchess of Miranda, known as 
 Dona Eulalia, who believed herself to be the 
 great wit of the party, " I fancy she would not 
 give them to her.'' 
 
 " But she is very pious, nevertheless, and has 
 a great devotion for the saint," said another. 
 
 "Then," muttered Dona Eulalia, "she should 
 buy her jewels of her own. An Image such as 
 this should have diamonds like a queen."
 
 PART THE FIRST. 253 
 
 "Do you believe all they say about her 
 miracles ? '^ said an old beau, witb a grin. 
 
 " Well, I do not know if I do quite," answered 
 the old lady who had first spoken ; "of course, 
 they must stand up for the merits of their 
 patroness." 
 
 " Ah, if she were like my Virgen cle la Con- 
 solacion! that is indeed a miraculous image," 
 said the old beau, with a look of triumph. 
 
 " Have you a miraculous image of your own, 
 Don Matias '? " broke in one of the young ladies, 
 as she threw a sweetmeat to one of the little 
 negroes in the street below. 
 
 " Ah yes, and such a virgin ! * tiene cctra de 
 cielo.' It came direct from heaven, and was 
 found by an old negress in one of my fields. Of 
 course, I gave her her freedom directly." 
 
 The old maid smiled maliciously. " Ah, Don 
 Matias," she said, " if you ofier freedom to every 
 slave who discovers an image, you would soon 
 have them all coming in with saints and virgins, 
 all dropped from heaven, of course.'' 
 
 " Jesus-Maria, what a sacrilege," exclaimed one 
 of the young ladies. 
 
 " How dare you hint such a thing, Dona 
 Eulalia," said another. 
 
 "Well, well, my dear Eduardo," she answered 
 coolly, not seeming to mind this general outburst 
 • of indignation, "such things have taken place 
 before now."
 
 254 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 "Oh fie, fie I" 
 
 " Ignorant superstitions ! " muttered Professor 
 Farren, turning away in disgust from the group, 
 to whose conversation we had been listening. 
 
 Lady Leigh now called my attention in an- 
 other direction. "Are you going to the great 
 ball on board the * Numancia,' next Saturday ? '^ 
 she said. 
 
 " I did not know there was going to be one," 
 I answered ; "I have not been invited." 
 
 "Oh, General Herbert will soon get you an 
 invitation, if you would like to go. But I sup- 
 pose you do not care for such trivial amusements. 
 I see you always fight shy of our pretty ball- 
 room at Azucena, which you so seldom favour 
 with your presence." 
 
 She said this in a careless way, but I knew 
 that she meant it as a reproach, but what could 
 I say ? It was only too true ; I did fight shy, as 
 she called it, of the gay cage in which she danced 
 merrily away half the night, and yet I could give 
 no excuse for this. I could not tell her openly 
 that I dreaded her society. 
 
 " It will be a very grand afiair," she continued, 
 seeing I did not answer her first proposition. 
 " The Numancia is the finest of the Spanish men- 
 of-war, and then a ball on board ship is always 
 interesting, even for those who do not dance." 
 
 " You are mistaken. Lady licigh, I do dance 
 sometimes ; indeed I used to be very fond of it
 
 PART THE FIRST, 255 
 
 once, but since m j wife's death I have lost all my 
 spirits." 
 
 " I know what it is, Lord Carlton!" she said, 
 with a siofh. " I know what it is to lose one's 
 companion, one's love. I was inconsolable for 
 months after the loss of my darling George, and 
 even now I often feel lonely and sad. . . . Ah ! 
 if I had a child, just a little boy who would call 
 me 'Mamma,' and remind me of him I so loved. 
 Ah ! Lord Carlton, how happy you must think 
 yourself, to have a little angel to cherish and 
 pet. I who am so fond of children have been 
 denied one." 
 
 " I did not know you were fond of children, 
 Lady Leigh?" 
 
 *' You used to call me Lilian once ; you know 
 people wonder here why you call me Lady Leigh, 
 for, as you see, it is the fashion here to call one 
 another by one's Christian name, except, perhaps, 
 total strangers ; but we can hardly be called so, 
 after the months we have travelled together, and 
 the adventures we have gone through. I hope, at 
 least, you do not consider me as a stranger, do 
 you Carlton ?" 
 
 She said this in such a sweet artless way that, 
 of course, I could not remonstrate. 
 
 As I have said before, since the fatal night of 
 the fire at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, a coolness had 
 sprung up between us, a coolness which neither 
 of us dared to break, we had therefore not seen
 
 256 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 much of each other during the last two months ; 
 but the accident of the day before had again 
 thrown us in each other's way, and to-night, for 
 the first time, we found ourselves indulging in a 
 little flirtation in a corner of the doctor's ver- 
 andah, overlooking the main street of the little 
 village of Corral Falso. 
 
 *' How is your little boy called % " 
 
 " Eaphael." 
 
 " Raphael ! " she repeated, laying a soft strain 
 on the word, " Raphael Carlton, what a sweet 
 name ; how fond you must be of him, the little 
 angel ! " 
 
 How little she knows, I thought, what I really 
 feel for the poor boy! I suppose it was very 
 wrong, but really at that time I could not bring 
 myself to love him. His life was still coupled in 
 my mind with his mother's death. 
 
 " You will come to the ball on Saturday, now, 
 won't you ? Uncle Farren will not go, so you 
 will chaperon me ; I am sure you will enjoy it, 
 once there; everybody is going from here, the 
 Countess and all. She has invited me t-o go and 
 stop with her at her town house in Havana. Is 
 it not kind of her ? It is such a beautiful house, 
 quite a palace, and they receive lots of company, 
 so I think I shall enjoy my visit." 
 
 " And Mrs Herbert, will you leave her ? " 
 
 " Well, she is very kind, and all that, but to 
 tell you the truth I am rather tii*ed of her and
 
 PART THE FIRST. 257 
 
 her American friends ; a private home is so much 
 nicer than an hotel. I cannot imagine how they 
 like to live always in an hotel amongst people 
 they do not know.'* 
 
 ** It is an American fashion," I said, " which 
 some people find rather convenient." 
 
 " Some Americans, but not all ; you know, be- 
 tween ourselves, Carlton, the Herberts, although 
 very kind and hospitable, are not of the best 
 society ; in fact, I do not think it would be 
 proper for me to visit them at home." 
 
 " I did not know such differences existed 
 between Americans. I thought in a Eepublic all 
 were equal." 
 
 " Oh no, thank God ! we are not yet fallen 
 so low. We too, although Eepublicans, have 
 ancient families amongst us, although, unfor- 
 tunately, they are not distinguished by any title 
 of nobility, as they would be in Europe. My 
 family for instance, is a very old one, descended, 
 I believe, from some nobleman's second son who 
 came to America long long ago. I do not know 
 exactly how it was, but I know the Eobinsons 
 were titled people in England." 
 
 I could not help smiling at the fair widow's 
 ancient pedigree. 
 
 " Your name is so pretty," she continued, " it 
 must be a very old one, it sounds quite classical. 
 Oh, I know all about you, Carlton, through the 
 peerage you know ! " 
 
 I. B
 
 258 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 A merry chime of bells from the little churcli 
 now announced that the procession was coming 
 out, and all our eyes were directed to that end of 
 the street at which it would first make its appear- 
 ance. Of course the whole party stood up to see 
 it pass.
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " C'est le coeur qui sent Dieu, et non la raison. Yoilk ce que 
 c'est que la foi ; la religion sensible an cceur non a la raison." 
 
 Pascal. 
 
 DoSa Eulalia and her party left the little table 
 round which they had been eating the delicious 
 fruits of the tropics ; and took their places in 
 front of the verandah. Lilian and I also joined 
 them; and even Professor Farren condescended to 
 lean forward to behold the ignorant superstitions; 
 as he persisted in calling them, of the good inha- 
 bitants of Corral Falso. 
 
 Below our balcony the dense crowd of people 
 were grouped as thick as they could be ; and 
 a motley and merry sight those men of so 
 many different faiths and climates presented, 
 all collected together in the narrow street to 
 see the procession of Santa Catalina. Negroes 
 from Africa, Chinamen from Pekin and Canton, 
 American citizens from the States, Peruvians and 
 Brazilians from South America, Englishmen from 
 Liverpool or London, Catalonians from Barcelona, 
 Castillians from Madrid, Andalusians from fair 
 Seville, Italians from Eome and Naples. There 
 they all were, side by side, in the Kttle street
 
 2 5o THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 below us, meeting each other for the first time, 
 and perhaps for the last, in a little unknown 
 village of the West Indies, where they had come 
 to make their fortunes or ... to die. 
 
 But now the procession was approaching, the 
 crowd moved like the waves of the sea to and 
 fro, while the brilliant light of the many torches 
 showed here a Panama hat, there a European 
 bonnet ; a little further the bright red handker- 
 chief of some negro woman ; at last the procession 
 came in sight. 
 
 Four mounted policemen rode first, to open 
 the way through the great crowd, which had 
 been congregating in the streets all day from all 
 the villages round. 
 
 Then came a long line of priests and acolytes, 
 bearing standards and crosses ; these were fol- 
 lowed by about forty little children dressed as 
 angels, with feathered wings, and a few as St 
 John the Baptist in miniature, with little lambs 
 in their arms, or walking by their side. As they 
 passed through the street, flowers and bon-bons 
 were showered upon them from the ladies in the 
 different balconies. 
 
 The parish priest came next, under a golden 
 canopy, in full ecclesiastical costume, and imme- 
 diately behind followed the saint herself. 
 
 The image was carried on a golden car, sur- 
 rounded by lighted tapers, and upon her was also 
 thrown an electric light, so that she stood out in
 
 PART THE FIRST. 261 
 
 conspicuous relief, and blazed like fire amidst the 
 darkening shades of the eveninor. 
 
 She wore a rich brocade dress, Trhich had come 
 from Spain on purpose for that day ; but this dress 
 was so covered with jewels (lent to her by the 
 Countess and the other ladies, for the occasion), 
 that it was hardly visible. 
 
 As the image of Santa Catalina passed, all went 
 down on their knees. 
 
 Behind the saint walked the Count and 
 Countess, with many other ladies and gentlemen, 
 each bearing a lighted taper, and behind these 
 again came the band, which played a solemn 
 march all the time. 
 
 This was followed by the soldiers and 
 volunteers ; the latter on horseback closing the 
 procession. 
 
 The sight was really impressive ; although 
 simple enough, and poor, compared with the 
 gorgeous displays of Rome and Seville ; but it 
 had a certain air of devotion and piety, that 
 pleased me much. 
 
 The o;reat ceremonials of the Catholic Church 
 have been accused of deluding and robbing the 
 spectators of their faith — " the pageant," they say, 
 "supersedes the piety, when men come to see a. pan- 
 tomime they will look at nothing but the tricks." 
 
 This I cannot believe, I have lived much in 
 Catholic countries, and I have always seen with 
 real pleasure, the veneration and faith, that such
 
 262 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 an exhibition as this generally extracts from the 
 mob, for whom it is intended. It is very well for 
 a northern people, like the English or Scotch, to 
 content themselves with a purely spiritual religion ; 
 but the warm imaginative natures of the children 
 of the sun need something that will not only strike 
 the eye, but warm the heart, and make it throb 
 with emotion for the holy mysteries of their faith. 
 
 You cannot change the time-honoured customs 
 of a nation, any more than you can change the 
 natures of its children — it is part of themselves. 
 
 The Latin races have, from time immemorial, 
 delighted in beholding images, and witnessing 
 processions. The descendants of the old Druids, 
 whose worship was more mental than material, 
 can pray without any visible shrine ; but the 
 children of Eome and Greece must still behold 
 upon their altars the representative image or 
 picture of some god or saint. As I have tried to 
 prove in " The Honeymoon," each religion is the 
 true one for him hy vjho7n it is received. No one 
 can change the religious belief of a nation, for 
 this belief is not a thing appertaining to the 
 mind, which you can argue out of it, or change 
 with a certain amount of reasoning. Our religi- 
 ous sentiments, like our ideas of God, are deeply 
 seated in our hearts, where no philosophy and no 
 reasoning can reach them. In our hearts we are 
 always the same, whatever we may outwardly pre- 
 tend to be ; and those who change their religion.
 
 PART THE FIRST. 263 
 
 do so, because in their hearts they never believed 
 in their former faith at all ; or because they have 
 outgrown their former feelings in the course of 
 their progress. 
 
 I know Protestants, who are in their hearts 
 Catholics, and Catholics who are Protestants ; it 
 is the fault of their minds, not of their hearts, if 
 they do not change their exterior worship at 
 once, and overcomino- all obstacles declare them- 
 selves CathoHcs or Protestants as the case may be. 
 
 " Image worship/' says the Protestant, " makes 
 the idea of Deity ridiculous. Eational men 
 despise a God that is made by a carpenter." 
 Now this is not true ; what Catholic ever 
 worshipped the actual wooden image ? It is that 
 which it represents that we really worship, not 
 the mere representation. " The perpetual use of 
 sacred things and terms, which is the necessary 
 habit of superstition," I have heard them say, 
 "renders them too familiar." Ah! I only wish 
 they were still more familiar to the greater part 
 of mankind ! What better example could men 
 have constantly before them, than the glorious 
 pages of the life of Jesus, and of the saints ? 
 
 The suflferings of Christ will teach them how to 
 suffer, and conquer death. The images of Mary 
 will give them a wholesome example of what 
 a wife and a mother should be ; the pictorial 
 representation of her sorrows wiU give them hope 
 and encouragement ; the pictures of the saints
 
 264 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 and martyrs constantly before their eyes, will 
 give them a nobler and a higher view of life and 
 its responsibilities, than the mere routinal sing- 
 ing of psalms. 
 
 When the image of St Catherine passed 
 through the principal street of the pretty little 
 village of Corral-Falso, midst flowers, and jewels, 
 music, and lighted tapers, how many hearts did 
 it not move, and inspire with a holier and more 
 Christian aspii-ation than they had had before ! 
 There was an example before their very eyes of 
 the success of hoHness and goodness ; if St 
 Catherine had attained to such a high position 
 and to so much honour, through her good deeds, 
 her pure heart, and her holy faith, why should 
 they not also follow her example, and try to 
 reach the same elevation ? 
 
 I am sure this passed through many a heart in 
 that little street ; and it w^as with piety and 
 veneration that they lowered their heads, Africans, 
 and Chinamen, Englishmen and Spaniards, before 
 that wooden image of the martyred saint. 
 
 But what is the use of discussing any more ! 
 No amount of reasoning will ever convert a 
 Protestant ; and the Catholics, I am sure, do not 
 need any of my arguments to convince them of 
 the beauty and poetry of their religion — of which, 
 however, I am the first to denounce the many 
 faults and errors, as I am the first to stand up 
 for its eternal truths.
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " And slight, withal, may be the things which bring 
 Back on the heart the weight which it would fling 
 Aside for ever." — Byeon. 
 
 The next day we all left the Ingenio de la Azu- 
 cena, and returned to the Havana. 
 
 I, to my rooms at the Hotel San Carlos, with 
 the Consul and Mrs Herbert ; and Lady Leigh to 
 the Palacio de Guanabacoa with the Count and 
 Countess, who had in^dted her to stop with them. 
 
 I was not sorry for this separation, for since the 
 unlucky accident at the Cafetal, I almost dreaded 
 the fair widow's society ; and some reports had 
 been circulated lately, (not without her tacit 
 assent, I think, if all were known), which coupled 
 our names together more than I should have 
 desired. 
 
 Some even asked me when I intended to marry 
 her, which was exceedingly annoying and dis- 
 agreeable. 
 
 For, what excuse could I give for not doing 
 so/? She was beautiful and rich — a widow, and 
 certainly no one ever questioned her unspotted 
 reputation or the sweetness of her character. And 
 yet, the more I saw of her, the less I liked her,
 
 266 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 for the more I was convinced of her frivolity and 
 her flightiness. She was a beautiful butterfly 
 with the most brilliant wings, who flitted from 
 flower to flower, extracting from them all the 
 sweetness she could, and yet giving nothing in 
 return. How could I ever love such a woman, 
 after the perfect wife I had so recently lost ? 
 
 The ball on board the Numancia was to take 
 place that evening. From my balcony in the 
 hotel I had watched for days, before going to the 
 country, the various preparations which had been 
 going on in the Bay for the great occasion. This 
 grand ball was the subject of all conversations, 
 the all-absorbing topic of the day. 
 
 At last the long looked for evening had arrived, 
 and that night was to find a thousand hopes 
 realised, and a thousand fears ended. 
 
 I was to call at the palace of the Count de 
 Guanabacoa for Lady Leigh and the Countess, 
 whom I was to escort to the ball. I therefore did 
 so about ten ; and with them I drove back to the 
 side of the town adjoining the bay. 
 
 At the Machina, which is the wharf and landing- 
 place for the men-of-war's boats, we found little 
 steam barges awaiting the guests to convey them 
 on board the frigate ; and as the ladies descended 
 from their carriages, they stepped upon a soft 
 carpet between these and the boats. 
 
 The quays and piers were tastefully decorated 
 with flowers and flags, amidst which thousands of
 
 PART THE FIRST. 267 
 
 coloured lamps slione like so many stars. It was 
 a dark nioflit and there was no moon, so that the * 
 illuminations shone to perfection ; and the large 
 ship before us, rigged up to the very top of its tall 
 masts with Venetian lanterns and coloured lamps, 
 which were faithfully reflected on the calm waters 
 below, presented the most fairy-like scene I have 
 ever gazed upon ; and extracted from all beholders 
 an involuntary exclamation of applause and 
 admiration. 
 
 Hundreds of little boats, barges, steam-barges, 
 and canoes were crowded around the great ship, 
 each one bearing a bright torch at its bow, thus 
 making a perfect flotilla of hghts on the water. 
 
 At last we reached the ship. A very large 
 barge had been placed along-side the man-of-war 
 to serve as an entrance-hall. This had been 
 filled with earth, in which were planted palm- 
 trees, from the spreading leaves of which hung 
 coloured lamps, in the form of various tropical 
 fruits, which, I suppose, they were meant to re- 
 present. The efi'ect was of course very striking. 
 
 On either side of this barge were the sailors in 
 uniform ; and in the centre stood the captain re- 
 ceiving his guests. 
 
 From the baro-e there had been constructed a 
 wide staircase, which rose to the very deck of the 
 ship. The centre of this was carpeted; but on 
 either side there was a very wide border of 
 natural flowers, amongst which, there had been
 
 268 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 placed little coloured lamps, in the style of the 
 .balls at the late Hotel de Ville in Paris. 
 
 At the top of this stately staircase there was a 
 large archway, entirely covered with sea- weeds, 
 bright sea-shells, and aquatic plants, which gave 
 entrance to the deck. 
 
 This had been transformed into a ball-room ; 
 and was covered over with a white awning; from 
 which hung many chandeliers and garlands of 
 flowers entwined around the masts, which had 
 been made to look like marble columns. 
 
 On the deck, which was crowded already, stood 
 the admiral ; who received his guests with the 
 stately dignity of a Spaniard of the old school. 
 It was yet early in the evening, although the 
 dancing had begun. The ladies were all beauti- 
 fully dressed ; and the men mostly in uniform, 
 which added a great' deal to the general effect. 
 The first impression was indeed surprisingly 
 beautiful ; and it would have been hard to recog- 
 nise, in that splendid ball-room, the deck of an 
 iron- clad ship of war, destined for anything but 
 gaiety and pleasure.
 
 XXXIY. 
 
 " Vergiss die trenen Eodten nicht," 
 
 KORNER. 
 
 Lilian Leigh was radiant that nio-ht. I do not 
 think I had ever seen her look so beautifuL 
 She wore a dress of black tulle, which set off her 
 fair complexion ; and amongst its many dark 
 folds were little fire-flies half hidden, which 
 sparkled like living stars when she danced. On 
 her hair she also wore a coronet of these insects, 
 which cast a bright light upon her luxuriant 
 dark tresses. 
 
 The Cuban " cucullo," or fire-fly, is a little 
 insect not unlike a beetle ; but it possesses three 
 large bright lights, two over its eyes, and one in 
 its breast, the three appearing as one when seen 
 at a certain distance ; and the light which they 
 give is so strong that, when seen amongst the 
 flowers in a dark night, it is quite bright enough 
 to point the way, and I have often read by it 
 when in want of a better candle, by holding one 
 of the httle beetles over the page. 
 
 Under their throats, or necks, they have a little 
 link, through which a hair-pin can be passed, 
 holding them prisoners without hurting them in
 
 2;o THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 the least, so that ladies often wear them in their 
 hair and in their dresses, the effect of which, as 
 may be imagined, is as novel as it is beautiful. 
 
 After a few turns round the ball-room in that 
 mad whirlpool, called a waltz, I proposed to her 
 to step outside the awning, at the stern of the 
 vessel to refresh ourselves from the heat of the 
 enclosure. 
 
 We did so. Here the noise and confusion of 
 the ball only reached us in a faint murmur, and 
 the cool breeze of the sea soon revived us. 
 
 We sat down near the bulwarks, side by side, 
 and for some minutes we remained in silence con- 
 templating the lovely scene before us. 
 
 Immediately beneath us, and almost touching 
 the iron-covered sides of the ship, were innumer- 
 able little boats and barges full of guajiros, and 
 market women, who had come to get a distant 
 view of the fine ladies and the gallant officers 
 enjoying themselves, little expecting to be them- 
 selves the object of any one's observation. 
 
 Beyond them lay the town; the many lights of 
 which, reflected in the water, gave it an appear- 
 ance which I could only compare with that pre- 
 sented by Venice during the gay nights of the 
 carnival, when the queen of the Adriatic seems to 
 awaken from her dream, and once more revive 
 into the capital of the Doges. 
 
 The Machina, decorated and illuminated to- 
 niofht for the occasion, and from which, ever and
 
 PART THE FIRST. 271 
 
 anon, a rocket would rise into the air, presented a 
 bright point in the distance, attractive enough 
 in itself to have absorbed all our attention. 
 
 There was no moon, as I have said before; but 
 the stars sparkled in all their glory ; and the 
 southern cross itself was high over the distant 
 landscape. 
 
 To this enchanting scene we must add the soft 
 gentle strains of the band, which floated from the 
 ball room; and then the reader may perhaps have 
 an idea, although always an imperfect one, of the 
 wondrous beauty and fascination of the spectacle 
 unfolded before my bewildered senses as I sat 
 by the side of the lovely American ; who, at that 
 moment, sparkled like the queen of night, the 
 presiding goddess of the scene, radiant in all her 
 charms by the bright glitter of the fire-flies im- 
 prisoned under the gauzy folds of her dark dress. 
 
 I was the first to break the silence, which, of 
 itself, was melodious enough to fill our hearts 
 with soft thoughts. " You seem sad," I said to 
 my beautiful companion, as I gazed upon her 
 fair young face, which seemed lost in deep medi- 
 tation, a thing so unusual vdth her that it coidd 
 not but call my attention. " You seem sad, 
 Lilian, to-night — to-night !" I added, ''of all 
 nights, when you are reigning supreme over all 
 hearts, the beauteous queen of night. I have 
 never seen you look so well, Lilian," I continued, 
 seeing that she did not answer my first remark ;
 
 272 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " black becomes you more than you have any 
 idea, and those cucuUos shine as stars amidst your 
 beautiful tresses." 
 
 "And what is it to me ? " she said at last, but in 
 such a quiet dreamy way that it seemed more like 
 thinking aloud than speaking. " What is it to 
 me to reign supreme over men's hearts, if the only 
 one I in the least appreciate, belongs to another?" 
 
 As she muttered these words her face turned 
 bright crimson, for she felt her lips had betrayed 
 her thoughts. Her breathing became agitated, 
 and caused the diamonds on her snowy neck 
 to sparkle, as they rose and fell on her white 
 breast. 
 
 Presently she got up, and, standing straight be- 
 fore me, she said, casting her eyes, for fear I sup- 
 pose that they should betray her, on the ropes 
 and chains at my feet : 
 
 *' Carlton, why must the world set itself against 
 me? why should I, all of a sudden, have become 
 the subject of all conversation, the object of all 
 their scandal ? " 
 
 " What do you mean, Lilian ? " I exclaimed, 
 surprised by her words. " Who has dared to talk 
 against you, who has dared to criticise your 
 actions ? But you must be mistaken ; are you 
 not free ? without rigid parents, or jealous hus- 
 band, without troublesome uncles or stupid aunts ? 
 Providence has liberated, and set you free from all 
 those restraints which generally surround a pretty
 
 PART THE FIRST, 273 
 
 woman, and lias only left you their inheritance. 
 You are a free agent, you can do as you please, 
 and no one has a right to criticise your move- 
 ments." 
 
 " It is true I do not depend on any one, and 
 yet I am dependent on every one. A woman is 
 never free, not even when a widow ; for society at 
 large takes upon itself to act the part of a jealous 
 husband. I am suspected, watched, and, although 
 free, as you say, I am even afraid of talking to 
 those I like." 
 
 " And who is the world jealous of ? " 
 
 " Of you ! " 
 
 I might have expected the answer, and yet it 
 took me by surprise. What could I say to that ? 
 The dreaded moment had arrived; we both felt it 
 so ; and we both remained in silence ; looking at 
 one another, fearing to break the spell which 
 had fallen upon us. 
 
 The situation was becoming more and more 
 unpleasant, and at last I worked up the courage 
 to begin. 
 
 " Of me ! of me ! and why of me, and not of 
 Cardenas, Grant, Arrias, or Gonzalez, or any of 
 the others *? " 
 
 " I know not. But you, Carlton, are the one 
 the world points to. Perhaps you are dangerous 
 without knowdng it, or society has discovered in 
 you a power ignored by your modesty. I know 
 not. Even my enemies find it natural that those 
 
 I. s
 
 2/4 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 men you speak of should talk with me, dance 
 with me — it is true — none of them have ever 
 travelled with me, or lived in the same hotel." 
 
 " You are right," I said ; " I own that I perhaps 
 compromise you. What in truth is but companion- 
 ship, sympathy, and pure friendship, the world 
 will translate into something far more important 
 
 and serious Yet God knows, Lilian, how 
 
 innocent has been our intercourse. But I must 
 put a stop to all this idle scandal. I will go away." 
 
 She gave a low sigh which, however, did not 
 escape my notice, and her fair cheeks became as 
 pale as the reflection of the iire-flies upon her 
 dress. 
 
 As I stood before her, I dreaded to lift my 
 eyes to look at her ; I dreaded to meet her gaze, 
 the danger was too great ; one word of mine 
 would have changed all my future, would have 
 made that beautiful creature mine for ever ; and 
 yet I dreaded that word more than anjrthing ; and 
 the thought of Conchita forbade me from pro- 
 nouncing it. 
 
 "I am sorry, Lilian," I again said, '* that we 
 must part thus ; but you see it is necessary, your 
 honour and mine require it. My friend Halsey 
 is in the bay with his yacht ; he is starting to- 
 morrow for a cruise in the Pacific ; he has often 
 invited me to accompany him on this trip. I 
 will go to-morrow ; I shall then be far away, and 
 your reputation will be saved."
 
 PART THE FIRST 275 
 
 " Is there no other way of putting an end to 
 this idle talk ? " she murmured, with tears in her 
 eyes. 
 
 I looked at her for one moment ; I was nearly 
 falling at her feet, but I soon recovered myself. 
 
 " None that I know of ... . Can you think of 
 one ? " 
 
 I saw her grow pale, and then again flushed ; 
 the diamonds round her swan-like throat sparkled 
 more than ever : she was oblio;ed to lean against 
 the side of the vessel for support. At last a word 
 came from her mouth, a word which sounded 
 more like a sob. 
 
 *' No." 
 
 We shook hands without looking at one 
 another ; the next moment I had left the ship.
 
 XXXV. 
 
 *' Yes, speak to me ! I have out watched the stars, 
 And gazed o'er heaven in vain, in search of thee. 
 Speak to me ! I have wandered o'er the earth 
 And never found thy likeness. Speak to me ! 
 This once — once more ! " Byron. 
 
 When I got back to the hotel, my first intention 
 was to pack all my things. I must fly, I said to 
 myself ; now or never is the time to get away 
 from her ; to-morrow will be too late ! 
 
 My head was burning with fever ; I went into 
 the balcony, and stood there for at least half an 
 hour, with my head leaning against the 
 balustrade. Was it possible that I was going to 
 quit this beautiful land for ever ? There, before 
 me, was the bay — the ever-beautiful phosphor- 
 escent bay of Havana, and in its centre, lay at 
 anchor, the " Numancia," brilliant with its many 
 lights up to the very top of its masts, with flags 
 and lamps. Even from where I stood I could 
 see the shadows of the dancers as they moved 
 alonef the decks to the sound of the music within. 
 There was Lilian, the beautiful American, from 
 whom I must fly. Methought I saw her leaning 
 over the stern with her eyes fixed upon my bal- 
 cony, still in the same place where I had left her.
 
 PART THE FIRST 277 
 
 But I had conquered the temptation once : I 
 must not fall into it again. Beyond the brilliant 
 man-of-war, and half lost in the shadow of the 
 night, was a little steamer, the Caledonia^ my 
 friend's yacht, that was so soon to bear me away 
 from all these bright scenes, far over the unsound- 
 able deserts of the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 This put me in mind of one thing. " I must 
 let Halsey know that I accept his invitation,'^ I 
 said to myself, "there is no time to lose, if he 
 sails to-morrow, as he intended." 
 
 I went to my desk to write him a note. As I 
 opened the top, a paper fell out of it. It was the 
 curious cryptogram I had found so mysteriously 
 upon my table at the Ingenio de Azucena. 
 
 I picked it up, and once more devoured the 
 extraordinary c}^her with my anxious eyes. 
 What could it mean 1 What mystery could be 
 hidden in those quaint-looking characters ? 
 
 ?0Ocies?>6ee<^9ciY?>69fj 
 )f>dYao?o^y.
 
 278 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 An idea struck me all at once. This signature 
 of eight signs, was it not most probably that of 
 Concliita ? What other could it be, if not ? 
 
 Yes I it must come from Conchita I And if so, 
 each one of those eight signs will correspond to 
 each one of the eight letters of her name I 
 
 I took a piece of paper, and wrote down the 
 following key : 
 
 2^ = 5 = H 
 
 <^ = 0=1 
 
 £? = C J=A 
 
 *^ It must be right ! " I exclaimed, when I had 
 written this down, " because the two C's of the 
 name are represented by the same character. 
 This, then, is the clue. I will now replace each 
 of these signs by the corresponding letter where- 
 ever I find them. After a few minutes, I had 
 written down on the piece of paper by my side 
 the following mixture of signs and letters : 
 
 eAA?iOAeA?}'6eeo?AX? 
 
 >(^'^TAyUAao9Tl'i^6Y& 
 
 <i 66 ciUoJ{S^6Y6Aca?> 
 
 NICA?C<Q>?-T>6Y Bl9lT>'
 
 PART THE FIRST. 279 
 
 Tliis was certainly very slow work, and threw 
 very little light upon the subject, for after all, 
 eight letters out of twenty-six was a very poor 
 beorinninof. 
 
 Of one thing I was now convinced, and that was, 
 that the cryptogram was written in Spanish, for 
 three reasons — firstly, because the " letter A w as 
 the most frequent, while in English, E is the 
 principal one ; secondly, because of the many ter- 
 minations in and A, which are so thoroughly 
 Spanish ; and thirdly, because Conchita — if 
 indeed it were she who had written it — would 
 naturally write in her own language. 
 
 As I was studying what I had written, with 
 little hopes of ever discovering its real meaning; 
 one thing suddenly struck me — in this curious 
 cypher there were really only thirteen difierent 
 characters, the rest being the same with a line 
 through the centre. 
 
 In the Spanish alphabet there are twenty-six 
 letters, just the double. Now, supposing that the 
 signs with a line across them indicated the letter 
 following, and those without it the letter preced- 
 ing, I should then possess sixteen letters to my 
 key instead of eight. 
 
 Thus— If ^ was C, ^ must be D. 
 If 00 ^as 0, GO must be P. 
 If r* was N, f must be M.
 
 28o THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 If ^7 was H, i) must be G. 
 
 If ly was T, o must be S; and 
 
 If c) was A, cr must be B. 
 
 According to this supposition, I then wrote 
 down the following, replacing the signs by the 
 letters which I supposed they must represent : — 
 
 AMADO<<^AST^^HAsS^(i^D 
 
 id(Q)Ca(^sposap69onoCa 
 
 AMIGA6A?y(^(io9ASM}'6? 
 TA)-6GAPO?-TID(iSD(i(i>6c 
 idCoADdsd^ACOM^NICA^ 
 
 coNTy (^spi9 iry 
 
 This, certainly was a little clearer ; there were 
 many words which must be right — such as Amado, 
 Has, Amiga, Con, &c. 
 
 ^My supposition then, that the signs with a 
 line across them were meant to represent the 
 following letter, and those without a line the one 
 before it, was right. 
 
 Another thing struck me, now that I possessed 
 the first word — the six signs following must stand 
 for my name Walter, and this much more so
 
 PART THE FIRST. 281 
 
 since the W and the T were abeady in the right 
 place. 
 
 *=\ therefore was W; o therefore was E; and 
 
 t „ L ; r „ E. 
 
 And if this were the case, the signs resembhng 
 these, with and without lines, must represent the 
 letters following or preceding them. 
 
 So if r is K, ; must be Q. 
 Now I only needed three letters to translate the 
 mysterious cipher — 
 
 y )^ A and ){ 
 
 This I had no possible means of finding out, 
 but I wrote the rest of them with the correspond- 
 ing letter of our alphabet underneath each, thus — 
 
 6 ^V"^ (^ 3 e 
 
 ABCDEG H I L 
 
 ? ^(^^f ? r ^ < 
 MNOPQE S T W 
 
 As soon as I had written this, I saw that the 
 three signs remaining would only be U, V, and Y. 
 
 /* must therefore be U, 
 
 ¥ „ V, and 
 
 A „ Y. 
 
 Now I possessed the meaning of every one of 
 the signs employed in the cryptogram ; so I began
 
 282 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 to decipher it, which I did with a beating heart, 
 and a trembling hand. 
 
 I was going at last to find out the mystery 
 which had so bewildered me for a whole week ; 
 now I was going to decipher this curious message 
 sent from a dead wife to a living husband — a 
 message from another world, in which, perhaps, 
 my whole future existence was concerned. 
 
 I trembled with excitement, as I wrote, by the 
 aid of my new alphabet : — 
 
 Amado Walter: Has per dido la Esposa, pero 
 no la amiga. La que lloras muerta, vela por ti 
 desde el cielo ; y desea communicar con tu 
 espiritu, Conchita. 
 
 (Beloved Walter : Thou hast lost the wife, but 
 not the friend. She whom thou weepest as dead, 
 is watching over thee from heaven, and desires- 
 to communicate with thy spirit. Conchita.) 
 
 This, then, is the mystery — she is near me, my 
 wife ! my angel ! And she desires to communi- 
 cate with me ! What would I not give up for 
 thee ? What are all the pleasures the world can 
 offer compared to this ? I might have doubted 
 the strange manifestations obtained through Dr 
 Slade in New York, but I could not doubt this, 
 for in this case I had been my own medium. 
 
 Yes, I will stay and receive thy communica- 
 tions, sweet angel. I will stay ! Not for Lilian, 
 but for Conchita !
 
 lart i\it ^tton^.
 
 IJTIGHT THE FIEST. 
 
 The soul is immortal. — Pythagoras. 
 
 I. S 2
 
 i 
 
 s
 
 NIGHT THE FIKST. 
 
 I. 
 
 " Celui qui en dehors des mathematiques pures, prononce le mot 
 impossible manque de prudence." — Arago. 
 
 It was a beautiful night, the stars were shining 
 brightly over head, as I stood on my balcony 
 overlooking the bay and the distant sea beyond. 
 My eyes wandered over the many spires, and 
 towers of the sleeping city at my feet, and over 
 the tall masts of the hundreds of vessels now at 
 rest, as they lay at anchor in the safe harbour of 
 this beautiful island, so deservedly called the 
 Queen of the Antilles. As I raised my eyes and 
 my thoughts towards those bright distant stars, I 
 saw one constellation grouped over another; and 
 beyond, millions and millions of miles from the 
 earth, nebulae formed by collections of thousands 
 of worlds, smiling placidly doTSTi upon this little 
 earth below, which, however, they could not pos- 
 sibly distinguish from such an enormous distance. 
 As my eyes wandered from sun to sun, lost in 
 mute admiration of the glories of nature, I seemed 
 drawn more particularly towards one of them, 
 by a force which I could not describe, and which
 
 286 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I would compare to sympathy, if sucti a com- 
 parison did not almost sound absurd. Of the 
 many stars before my gaze I only saw one now, 
 all the rest seemed to have faded away, and left 
 in the blue sky but one source of light, but one 
 point of attraction. 
 
 A luminous mist seemed to proceed from this 
 star, a mist which grew larger and larger. This 
 mysterious vapour also seemed to take form as it 
 gently approached the earth ... as it approached 
 the very spot from whence I gazed ... as it 
 approached me. Presently it touched the bal- 
 cony upon which I leant. Suddenly it vanished, 
 and in its place ... I beheld Conchita, my angel 
 wife, who fell into my arms and smiled sweetly 
 as I clasped her to my heart. Pronouncing one 
 word, only one, but worth all the universe to me, 
 a word that not only issued from her lips, but 
 shone from her eyes and beamed from her whole 
 countenance, as she gazed intently on me once 
 more . . . that one word was — 
 
 "Love!" 
 
 For a long time we remained lost in a close 
 and rapturous embrace. At last, then, we had 
 met once more ! Husband and wife — after six long 
 months of separation, of anguish, of incessant long- 
 ing, and concentrated thought ... at last we met 
 again ; and I felt we met now, never more to part. 
 
 And yet an unsoundable abyss divided us 
 still ; for we belonged to diJfferent spheres, to dif-
 
 PART THE SECOND. 287 
 
 ferent worlds, and T could not help shuddering in 
 spite of my great happiness, as I remembered this 
 tremendous fact. 
 
 Conchita perceived my despair, and with an 
 angel smile she whispered, or rather breathed — 
 for I could perceive her words rather than hear 
 them with my outward ears — " Our spirits have 
 never been divided, dearest ; and you have often 
 felt my presence, for I have never ceased to dis- 
 cern your thoughts which have been so constantly 
 devoted to me." 
 
 But from this great crisis in my life's history, 
 I prefer to record our conversations as they took 
 place, and as nearly as possible in the words we 
 used ; for, by so doing, I shall avoid confusing 
 my reader with useless repetitions, and still more 
 useless remarks concerninof them. 
 
 Walter. " Can it be you, my own Conchita ! 
 Is it possible I again can hold you in my arms, 
 and clasp you to my heart ; and that you still 
 love me, and still are mine ! " 
 
 Conchita. " Yes, Walter, our love is strono-er 
 than the grave. Death cannot part us : we are 
 one . . . one for ever ! " 
 
 Walter. " But are you dead ? or is this only a 
 dream, a wild impossible dream, too sweet to last, 
 and from which on wakinor I shall sink asfain into 
 the misery and the sorrow of my utter loneliness, 
 which will be more horrible than ever, now that I
 
 288 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 have dreamt of heaven and realised your pre- 
 sence ? " 
 
 Conchita. " It is not a dream, in the way you 
 employ that word. I am real, as real as a disem- 
 bodied spirit can be on earth. It is not a dream, 
 for you are not sleeping at this moment, although, 
 as long as you are bound to this material sphere, 
 your spirit is more or less enthralled. Walter, 
 the material life is but an imprisonment of the 
 soul. It will some day seem to you like a dream, 
 but you will not thus see it until you wake into 
 the real life, the life beyond the grave." 
 
 Walter. "The gravel Ah, Conchita! pronounce 
 not that accursed word that has so cruelly divided 
 us ! — pronounce not that word which alone 
 has parted our love ! " 
 
 Conchita. "And why not, my husband ! You 
 would not be so cruel as to deny me my liberty 
 — my life ? But I know when I was on the earth, 
 that I too hated that word, knowing not its true 
 meaning, and seeing only in death the unsoundable 
 depths of a material grave. But I am a free 
 spirit now, Walter. I know the why and the 
 wherefore of death, and I bless it. You still loathe 
 it, but it is because you still think it can take me 
 away from you. But now you must learn no 
 longer to hate it, for you will know that it cannot 
 divide us, for nothing material can affect our love 
 which is so purely spiritual. " 
 
 Walter. " But how is it that you can come
 
 PART THE SECOND. 289 
 
 back unto the earth \ How is it that you are 
 thus permitted to communicate with me ? " 
 
 Conchita. — " I could tell you, but you would 
 not understand it ; as yet you are too material to 
 comprehend the laws of the spiritual world. 
 Know only that around you, at your very side, 
 are thousands of spirits, invisible to your material 
 eyes, but not for that the less real. If your mate- 
 rial organisation cannot perceive them, you will 
 know them some day by your spiritual insight. 
 AJl on earth are surrounded by invisible guardians, 
 guides, and friends. Sympathy and affection 
 draw them towards you, and they are drawfL still 
 more by love. We are sometimes allowed to en- 
 velope ourselves with a semi-material body, and 
 appear to those we love. The material form you 
 hold in your arms at the present moment is no- 
 thing but cosmic matter : the outward clothino^ of 
 my inward soul, and mere matter ; that inward 
 soul you could not touch any more than I could 
 touch yours ; even in the pure spirit life the soul 
 must have a container, or spiritual body." 
 
 Walter. — " But how is it, Conchita, if you found 
 it so easy to appear to me, that you have not done 
 so before ? " 
 
 Conchita. — "I could not. My duties and 
 yours forbade ■ it ; but I have been always near 
 you, at least near you in spirit ; for my body (my 
 spirit body, I mean) has wandered from star to 
 star, and traversed many a time the distant 
 
 I. T
 
 290 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 regions of the coloured suns. But I did appear 
 to you once, — in New York, — when I told you 
 to wait a few months longer, and I would then be 
 able to communicate with you face to face, and 
 without the assistance of any medium. The time 
 I mentioned has arrived ; and now you have me 
 by your side, true to my word." 
 
 Walter. — " But why was this long space of 
 time needed before you could again make yourself 
 visible to me ? " 
 
 Conchita. — " For two reasons ; I had a mission 
 to perform ; and you had to undergo certain temp- 
 tations and trials before you were prepared and 
 qualified to hold direct communication with the 
 spirit world. You have triumphed over the temp- 
 tations which have been put before you by the 
 over-rulers ; and have proved yourself faithful to 
 your sister spirit, faithful to our love ; and, see, 
 here I am by your side, from whence no earthly 
 power can remove me more." 
 
 Walter. — '' Oh, Conchita, I love you ! I love 
 you now more than ever, for you have braved 
 death for my sake ; will you now remain always 
 by my side ? " 
 
 Conchita. — " Can you doubt it ? " 
 
 Walter. — " It seems too sweet to be true ; are 
 you really sure I am not dreaming, and that the 
 desires of my heart do not take form during my 
 sleep ? " 
 
 Conchita. — '' What would it matter even if it
 
 PART THE SECOND. 291 
 
 were a dream ! You have me near you ; is that 
 not enough ? But thank God, Walter, it is no 
 dream, but a reality, and as real as anything else 
 in your poor little earth." 
 
 Walter. — " Can you describe to me your death, 
 Conchita 1 Can you tell me all about that awfiil 
 moment which follows the cessation of life, and 
 the glorious sequel to that moment when the soul 
 awakens in another sphere, — your birth into life 
 everlasting ? I love you so much, Conchita, that 
 I am jealous of each moment of those six cruel 
 months which have elapsed since your death." 
 
 Conchita. — "I will tell you all I know. Perhaps 
 you won't understand me — most likely you will 
 not comprehend all I have to say, — ^but I should 
 like you to participate in all my impressions, and 
 take part in my present happiness. Listen, 
 therefore, oh Walter ! to what befell your loving 
 wife after she had quitted this world you call 
 earth, and that prison you call life I "
 
 n. 
 
 " La mort n'est qu'un mot ; elle n'est pas." 
 
 Boucher de Perthes. 
 
 " La mort est la plus grande des libertes. Elle est aussi le plus 
 grand des progres, c'est la moutee de tout ce qui a vecu au 
 degre superieur." Victor Hugo. 
 
 Conchita. — Men cannot think of death with- 
 out thinking of the grave. This is the great 
 mistake you all make upon earth. Death is 
 but a second birth — a birth into the spirit world, 
 the same as this is a birth into a material one, 
 and both are entered through a grave ; for what 
 is the mother's womb but a grave, through which 
 we enter the material world ? 
 
 You see, then, we are born into the world 
 through a grave ; the spirit, by means of the 
 magnetic qualities which connect it with the 
 soul, accretes to itself matter with which it con- 
 structs a material organisation. Then the spirit 
 dies from the spiritual world, and is born into the 
 earth. Years pass, during which the spirit, by 
 means of this vital force, is constantly attracting 
 to itself particles of matter, with which to form its 
 outward material body. This material body is 
 composed of the various molecules of matter
 
 PART THE SECOND. 293 
 
 whicli surround the spirit in whatever sphere it 
 may find itself for the time being ; they are inert 
 and passive as they are indestructible. They 
 enter into the organisation by the respiration and 
 the alimentation, and are daily renewed. These 
 molecules are always the same ; the molecule of 
 iron is always iron, whether it form part of the 
 braia of a Newton or of the hammer of a black- 
 smith; oxygen is always oxygen, whether in a 
 human eye or in a drop of rain. Of particles, 
 such as these, is our human frame composed. 
 Attracted by our animal magnetism, they are 
 united together — amalgamated, as we may say, 
 into one organisation, by means of the ^T.tal 
 principle, the electric spark procedent from the 
 spirit. The material atoms are indestructible ; 
 the ^dtal force is not. The material atoms have 
 no age ; vital force is born, grows old, and at 
 last dies. A man of ninety is older than one of 
 twenty. Why ? The atoms which constitute 
 their bodies have only formed part of them for 
 the last few months, and cannot therefore be 
 called old. If analysed, the elements which con- 
 stitute their bodies have no age. Their spiiits, of 
 course, cannot have grown old, for they are 
 immaterial, and therefore time cannot have any 
 power over them. What is wearing out is the 
 animal mao-netism, the vital force given for a 
 certain time ; which, in the man of ninety, has 
 been exhausted, whilst in the youth of twenty,
 
 294 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 it has but just arrived at its full develop- 
 ment. 
 
 As far as I can tell you, this vital force is 
 nothing but electricity, and is therefore procedent 
 from certain causes. It can be transmitted by 
 generation ; it can be extinguished. It is but an 
 effect dependent on certain causes, but it is an 
 effect which constitutes life. 
 
 It is this electrical magnetic force which attracts 
 and assimilates round the spirit or soul- envelope 
 the molecules which are to form its earthly body; 
 and which are constantly changing throughout the 
 terrestial life of the spirit. 
 
 But this body, like all things made for a 
 certain purpose, and a certain time, cannot last ; 
 the particles which compose it are daily changing 
 and others taking their place, and this constant 
 wear and tear cannot go on for ever ; the life- 
 principle becomes exhausted, and the freshness of 
 the body begins to fade. How soon do signs of 
 age appear on the previously downy cheek, and 
 at last when the power of attraction is worked 
 out, when the great electric battery of the soul 
 can no longer affect the material molecules 
 necessary to form and keep up its perishable 
 body, this shrinks and shrinks, and gradually 
 becomes weaker and weaker, and finally dies. 
 
 Thus death may take place after many years, 
 when the body has grown old and feeble, and the 
 animal magnetism is exhausted, or it can take
 
 PART THE SECOND. 295 
 
 place in the middle of its earthly career, like 
 mine did, when some accident deprives it sud- 
 denly of the magnetic fluid, falsely called life ; 
 and the spirit is then obliged to withdraw. The 
 gates of its earth-life are closed, and the spirit, 
 once more free, is born into the spirit-world. 
 
 As the seed dies, the shoot grows from it ; and 
 hence the development of the plant, the blossom, 
 the new seed, and then the death of the material 
 structure, and the gathering of its fruits. 
 
 As the spiritual body dies on entering the 
 material sphere, the spirit springs from it, and 
 commences the formation of its material body ; in 
 this it is developed, and undergoes a certain 
 amount of instruction ; then this also dies, and 
 the spirit gathers up the fruits of its last exis- 
 tence, and finding itself once more free, recom- 
 mences the magnetic construction of its new spiri- 
 tual body or envelope. 
 
 This is the history of all forms; the history of 
 birth, life, and death, which are, as you see, but 
 sequences to one another, the natural conse- 
 quences of the cessation of the one and the com- 
 mencement of the other. 
 
 You may fail to comprehend what I say, dear- 
 est husband ; you, who can at present only see the 
 half of our life, cannot be expected to imagine or 
 to realise the glories of the other half. You could 
 never believe, if you did not absolutely witness 
 with your own eyes, that the caterpillar would
 
 296 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 turn into a bright butterfly. But this is only a 
 shadow of the changes which await us in oui* 
 transit through the other world. We are all, like 
 the caterpillar, changed at death ; only that the 
 insect operates its resurrection on our earth, under 
 our own observation, and thus leaves us no doubt 
 concerning the possibility of such a change. 
 
 You must often have seen, in the fountains at 
 Carlton Hall, a little red worm which floats in 
 the middle of the waters ; for its specific gravity 
 is only equal to that of the liquid, and it cannot 
 therefore descend to the bottom or ascend to the 
 top. Our spirit can be, with much truth, com- 
 pared to this little worm. While imprisoned in 
 a material form it is obliged to submit to the 
 particular conditions of the world it inhabits. 
 Like the worm, it is enveloped in an organisation 
 adapted to the element in which it lives, incap- 
 able of subsisting in another. We pass some time 
 under this form of being, and while in it we do our 
 work and learn our lesson as best we can. But 
 one fine day the worm tln:ows off" its old body, 
 and out of it emerges a beautiful fly, not unlike 
 the worm, but infinitely more beautiful, more 
 ethereal, and, when viewed through a microscope 
 by the light of the sun, we find it clothed in a 
 glittering body, far more beautiful than any pre- 
 cious gems of the mineral world. 
 
 As the fly bursts forth, it leaves the body of 
 the AYorm on the surface of the water, while the
 
 PART THE SECOND. , 297 
 
 new born creature takes its ilio-ht towards the 
 
 o 
 
 bright sunshine of the eternal heavens. So do 
 we ; when we at last cast off our material 
 envelope, we find ourselves gathering a far 
 more beautiful body, but not unlike the former 
 in its outward shape and appearance ; and on 
 quitting the earth in which we have lived, we 
 soar aloft to the spiritual spheres. 
 
 We have now chano-ed our oro;anisation, and 
 therefore our conditions of existence ; we Kve in 
 a different element, and possess a body in har- 
 mony with our new state. While in the mate- 
 rial world, like the worm of which I have spoken, 
 we could not wing our flight upwards, we could 
 not quit the element to which alone our organi- 
 sations were adapted ; and now we have cast off 
 the material body, we cannot go back to it ; the 
 fly can no longer live in the depths of the foun- 
 tain, and surely it would not, even if it could. 
 
 Death is, therefore, not to be dreaded, but to 
 be looked to, as towards a liberator — a liberator 
 who frees us from the miseries of the material 
 world, a liberator who opens to us the golden 
 gates of eternal sunshine. 
 
 Men, you will say, do not so much fear death 
 as they fear the moment of transition. 
 
 It is true, the change of existence is never 
 gone through without a certain amount of pain 
 and perturbation, but this is so small compared 
 to the glories which await us on the other side.
 
 298 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 that it becomes as naught, when once we are able 
 to appreciate what we gain by it. 
 
 During our existence on the earth, the electric 
 current I have called life, runs through all parts 
 of the body, and forms the vehicle which trans- 
 mits all the physical sensations, and the medium 
 of communication from the soul to the body, 
 carrying its messages to the diverse parts of the 
 frame, and bringing the telegraphic answers back 
 to the mind, that its mandate has been obeyed. 
 At the extinction of organic life, soul and body 
 are separated by the rupture of the electric chain 
 which unites them. This separation cannot be 
 sudden, because this particular electric condition 
 which I have called life, must disengage itself by 
 degrees from all the organs it binds together. The 
 complete disunion is therefore not fully accom- 
 plished until every particle of this force or fluid is 
 withdrawn from every molecule of matter. The 
 painful sensations experienced during the rupture 
 are due to the number of points of contact still 
 existing between it and the body, and the greater 
 or less time required to ejffect this complete sepa- 
 ration. 
 
 This is the philosophy of death ; a truth which 
 I ignored as I lay hovering on the brink between 
 life and so-called death, in the tapestried chamber 
 at Carlton Hall. I did not fear death ; I did not 
 expect to die ; the doctors and nurse had done all 
 they possibly could, to make me forget the danger
 
 PART THE SECOND. 299 
 
 to which the slightest of my moYements exposed 
 me. I did not suffer much ; all mj thoughts 
 were centred on one hope, one all - engrossing 
 object — my child ! 
 
 It was in the middle of summer, as you know. 
 The large oriel window of my apartment was 
 wide open, and from my bed I could watch the 
 heavy slate-coloured clouds as they sailed along 
 the sky, now hiding, then revealing the pale 
 moon, whose rays of pure pale white illuminated 
 the gardens and terraces below. 
 
 You came into the room for one brief moment 
 to ask how I was getting on, and to impress upon . 
 my burning forehead a sweet kiss of love. This 
 was the last time I saw you upon the earth. You 
 leant over me, and as your lips touched my head, 
 they pronounced the last words I heard from you 
 — "I love you, my darling ! " 
 
 Then you went away, for you feared to re- 
 main ; you were much moved, very agitated, and 
 seemed indeed to suffer more than I did myself ; 
 so I would not ask you to stop by my side. 
 
 Once more alone, I again fixed all my atten- 
 tion on the passing clouds, and dreaming of 
 future happiness, when I should hold in my 
 arms my little Raphael (or Raphaela, for then I 
 did not know whether it would be a boy or a 
 girl), I fell into a sleep. 
 
 I did not sleep long, for I was awoke by the 
 most excruciating pains. I felt as if my bones
 
 300 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 were breaking ; all my nerves seemed to be drawn 
 by some mysterious power ; I felt that I must 
 die. I had no strength to bear so much ; I could 
 neither speak nor scream, for all utterance seemed 
 to be paralysed ; then I felt a dreadful pain in 
 the head, the skull seemed indeed to burst by 
 this terrific blow, and all was over. I lost con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 When I again recovered it, I was in a new 
 world. Bright faces surrounded me, from which 
 rays of light seemed to proceed, purer and 
 brighter than those of the very sun. I felt no 
 pain whatever now. I could see myself, and my 
 body seemed to be the same. Was I really in 
 another world ? 
 
 Presently the mist before me cleared away. I 
 saw the bed, and in it a body, or rather a corpse. 
 As I looked at it I could hardly restrain a cry, for 
 in that cold corpse I recognised myself. 
 
 Eound the bed were several people, and in 
 another corner of the room a nurse held in her 
 arms a new-born child. My heart leaped with 
 joy as I beheld him — my Eaphael, my pretty 
 little Eaphael. But as I looked around I saw 
 tears and sorrow on every face ; no one seemed 
 to share my immense happiness ; nothing but 
 misery and pain was expressed in those counte- 
 nances ; as for you — I could not see you. In vain 
 did I look around and search each corner of the 
 room — you were not there.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 301 
 
 A thick white mist seemed to collect now 
 around me. I felt myself going upwards. I 
 wanted to remain in the room, but a will stronorer 
 than my own drew me towards brighter regions 
 above, and I was obliged to comply.
 
 III. 
 
 " Dying, she shall be welcomed by her father, her mother, and 
 her brother in the other world." — Sophocles. 
 
 Conchita. — I cannot tell you how I traversed 
 the space, and by what extraordinary force I felt 
 myself drawn upwards ; but I could not stop — 
 higher and higher, I went through one constella- 
 tion and another. The earth seemed to recede 
 fropi me, rather than I to depart from it. I had 
 hardly quitted your globe when I found myself in 
 a region whence the earth appeared only as a dim 
 star, half lost in the mighty rays of the blazing 
 sun, which threw it into deep shade. 
 
 I approached the remote constellations which 
 you can scarcely distinguish from the earth, and 
 although, from the new regions I was now travers- 
 ing in space, they looked very different, yet I think 
 I recognised some which you so often had pointed 
 out to me whilst on earth. 
 
 But I could not stop, even to admire the 
 glories of creation. I passed systems of revolving 
 worlds, isles of ethereal light, nebulous realms 
 where worlds are but forming, sumptuous regions 
 that the Eternal Sower has sown with worlds as
 
 PART THE SECOND. 303 
 
 profusely as lie has sown jour earthly fields with 
 flowers. 
 
 I was now drawing near a very large star of 
 the purest white, much larger — at least so it 
 seemed to me — than the sun of our system ; and 
 whose rays, I am sure, seen from where I was, 
 would have blinded and burnt any human eye. 
 They had no effect of that kind for me whatever. 
 I did not even feel the enormous heat which must 
 have proceeded from them ; capable, I am con- 
 vinced, of reducing to ashes the entire earth, if 
 near enouo^h to feel its influence. 
 
 This star, if my calculations were not wrong, 
 formed part of the constellation of the Ljrre — one 
 of those around the polar star — and must have 
 been the « or the /3 of that group. Behind it, 
 millions and trillions of leagues beyond, was the 
 white river of the Milky Way, sparkling upon the 
 dark blue sky, with its hundreds of thousands of 
 suns, and which even from here had more the 
 appearance of a misty cloud than that of a 
 nebulae. 
 
 I thought I was going to stop in this brilliant 
 sun ; but no, I passed it, and then for the first 
 time I saw ten dark bodies which revolved around 
 it. I was in a planetary system. The large star 
 was the sun, and the ten dark bodies were the 
 planets, and some of them had satellites of their 
 own, even as the earth I had so recently left. 
 
 These ten planets went round their sun in the
 
 304 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 same way as those of this solar system go round 
 their sun, but they were larger than those belong- 
 ing to our day giver, and the central star which 
 lighted them was brighter and whiter than even 
 ours. 
 
 It was in one of these worlds that I at last 
 ended my journey. I came upon it gradually, 
 descending upon its surface gently and softly, as 
 a bird descends upon the green fields of your 
 world. 
 
 I then found myself in what you would have 
 taken for a large city, on account of the great 
 number of persons who seemed to be collected 
 together ; but neither houses nor streets were any- 
 where to be seen ; and above, hovering over the 
 crowd, were hundreds of others, scarcely less busy, 
 moving to and fro in mid air, and apparently 
 without the aid of any wings. 
 
 As I stood utterly bewildered, by the new and 
 strange scene before my eyes, I felt the pressure 
 of an arm round my waist. I looked round, 
 and what was my astonishment to find myself 
 face to face with my darling mother ; my dear, 
 dear mother, whose loss I had so deeply mourned, 
 and who had passed away from earth, as you 
 know, but a few months before me ! 
 
 I need not describe to you the emotions of our 
 first meeting, nor the hundreds of questions she 
 put to me, and the hundreds with which, in my 
 turn, I overwhelmed her.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 305 
 
 Another being, also radiant with light, now 
 came up to me, and in him I recognised mj 
 father I 
 
 Ah ! Walter, how could I tell you all that I 
 felt at that moment. I was no longer alone, nor 
 a stranger in the new world that was destined to 
 be my future home. I was surrounded by my 
 beloved parents and my friends, for they all came 
 to me, one after another, and welcomed me to mv 
 new existence ; all, all whom I had so wept and 
 sorrowed for while on earth, ignorant of the 
 glorious bliss which had become their portion, 
 and from which I would so selfishly have recalled 
 them to our earth. I was happy . . . happy ; 
 and I should have been supremely blest if you 
 had been with me to have shared my emotions 
 and taken part in my joy. 
 
 Presently they all went away, all the well- 
 known faces which had shown such marks of 
 delight at seeing me ; and I was left alone with 
 my father. 
 
 " Shall I see God ? " I asked him as soon as we 
 were alone. 
 
 " God ! " he exclaimed, much surprised by my 
 question. 
 
 " Yes, God ; will he not shew himself to me ?" 
 
 " Oh, my child ! do you think yourself good 
 and perfect enough to see God face to face ? You 
 must dismiss from your mind, Conchita, all those 
 
 I. u
 
 3C6 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 wild notions of the earth. Know that the most 
 perfect archangels are not pure enough, nor suffi- 
 ciently advanced to behold the Creator, and you 
 would see him, you who have but just arrived 
 from one of the most imperfect and purgatorial of 
 worlds." 
 
 " But is he not near me now V I asked, 
 thoroughly confused. 
 
 "Near you! He is always near you. As near 
 whilst on the eartb as in the most glorious part of 
 the heavens. He is everywhere, present alike in 
 all parts of his universe." 
 
 " But are we not in heaven ?" 
 " In heaven, child ; what extraordinary ideas 
 you bring from that poor little world of yours ! I 
 suppose you think yourself good enough to go 
 straight to the courts of heaven, don't you ? This 
 is not heaven, Conchita ; this is but a world like 
 the earth, only more ethereal and more spiritual, 
 but that is all ; if you want to know, we call it 
 Arabel, and it is one of the smallest of the ten 
 planets which revolve around the sun you see 
 above, and which the astronomers of the earth 
 have called Vega, and placed in the constellation 
 of the Lyre, in which they have made a great mis- 
 take, for the other stars which they have joined 
 with it, to make the constellation, are milli( ns 
 and millions of leagues from it." 
 
 " Are we far from the earth then % "
 
 PART THE SECOXD. 307 
 
 "No, oh, no ! only about 50,830,000 millions 
 of leagues." * 
 
 " And do you call that nothing, father ? " 
 
 " Of course, the sun you see over your head is 
 one of the stars nearest to the earth, in fact, 
 there are only ten nearer, and of these the nearest, 
 the Alpha of the Centaur, is 8,376,800 millions 
 of leagues away from it." 
 
 " You do not ask me any news from the earth, 
 father ? " I said, in order to change the conversa- 
 
 * The distances of the stars is a subject which lias naturallj 
 engaged the close attention of astronomers, both ancient and 
 modern ; but all their efforts to arrive at anything like satisfactory 
 conclusions have failed until within a very recent period. The 
 stars appear in precisely the same position from whatever part of 
 the earth they are viewed, but with the hope of detecting some 
 change of place, by which to judge of their separation from us, 
 they have been observed at points as widely distant from each 
 other as we are able to command, viz., from opposite parts of the 
 earth's annual orbit. With this base-Une of 190 millions of miles, 
 there is the most favourable chance of detecting the parallax of a 
 star, provided the instruments employed are sufficiently accurate. 
 
 An annual paraUax of one second of arc would indicate a distance 
 of about 206,000 times the radius of the earth's orbit, that is, of 
 206.000 times 95 millions of miles. In only one instance has a 
 paraUax closely approaching this amount been discovered, and this 
 is in the cas^ of the star a Centauri, which is never visible in Eng- 
 land. It is found that the semi-diameter of the earth's orbit would 
 subtend at the star an angle of ^^^Q'^ths of a second, whence it fol- 
 lows that the distance must be 211,000 times the distance of the 
 sun from the earth, or ticenty Ullions of miles. The late Professor 
 Henderson, astronomer royal of Edinburgh, and formerly at the 
 Cape of Good Hope, has the merit of having first detected the 
 parallax of a Centauri. 
 
 This distance is so enormous that the mind is hardly able to 
 appreciate it ; light, with its astounding velocity of 192,000 miles 
 per second, fur Irishes the only unit by which it can be measured,
 
 3o8 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tion, which was beginning to bewilder me. 
 " Don't you want to know how the Carlist war 
 is going on, and who is the Prime Minister now 
 in Spain ? " 
 
 " Do you think I need ask you all those 
 things to know them, child ! But I see you 
 forget that I am now a free spirit, and can there- 
 fore go where I like." 
 
 " Can you go to the world 1 have just left ? * 
 
 and brought within small numbers. Suppose a ray to leave this 
 star, travelling through space at the above prodigious rate, it 
 would not reach the earth until after the expiration of 1218 days, 
 or 3^ years. We do not see the star as it actually is, but it shines 
 with the light emitted 3^ years ago. Hence, if it were obliterated 
 from the heavens, we should continue to see it for more than three 
 years after its destruction. 
 
 Shortly before Professor Henderson's announcement appeared 
 respecting o Centauri, the great astronomer Bessel, of Konigsberg, 
 had published the results of his observations upon a star of the 
 sixth magnitude, numbered 61 in Cygnus, from which it was in- 
 ferred to have a parallax of tVo*'^^ ^^ ^ second — a conclusion 
 which is supported by the subsequent researches of Professor 
 Peters at the Imperial Observatory of Pulkowa, Russia, and those 
 of an English astronomer, the late Mr Johnson, director of the 
 Radcliffe Observatory, Oxford. Other determinations assign a 
 somewhat larger parallax (0""5) ; but with the smaller value of 
 Bessel it would appear that the distance of the star must be 
 650,000 times that which separates the earth from the sun, or 52 
 billions of miles. 
 
 Sirius, the brightest star in the heavens, shows a parallactic 
 displacement of a quarter of a second, which indicates a distance 
 greater than that of 61 Cygni, a star of the sixth magnitude only, 
 Vega in Lyra is supposed to have a parallax of about the same 
 amount. — The Stars^ how to know them and how to use them, by W. 
 H. Rosser. See also Introduction to Astronomy, by J. R. Hind, 
 F.R.S., &c., &c.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 309 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Could I go r' 
 
 *' Why, you have only just left it, Conchita, 
 and you already want to return to it 1 " 
 
 *' You forget," I said, " that I have left there 
 my husband and my child." 
 
 "Then you have only to look at that star, 
 the little yellow one, there over your head, it is 
 the sun of your late system ; if you look atten- 
 tively at it you will- presently see the earth and 
 the other planets." 
 
 I did so. I fixed my whole attention on the 
 little yellow star over my head. It grew larger 
 and larger, and after a little time all the other 
 stars seemed to vanish from my sight, and 
 the sun, our sun, alone occupied the blue firma- 
 ment above me. 
 
 I now saw eight planets round it, which 
 I knew directly were those of our system. I 
 recognised Saturn, on account of its ring's, and 
 Jupiter by its size and its four moons. But 
 the earth, which looked one of the smallest, soon 
 called my attention ; and I was able to identify 
 it by means of the moon, who, faithful to it, re- 
 volved around the planet. The earth, indeed, 
 looked to me brighter and gayer than the larger 
 planets, perhaps on account of its being nearer to 
 the sun, perhaps because all my attention was fixed 
 upon it, and I was therefore able to see it more 
 clearly. I had observed that whatever I fixed
 
 310 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 my attention upon, grew larger and more defined, 
 and ended by standing alone before my gaze. 
 So I fixed my attention entirely upon the little 
 planet, and after a few minutes I was able to dis- 
 tinguish its continents and seas, as plainly as if I 
 had been looking on a map. 
 
 I saw the snow of the poles, the blue waves of 
 the great ocean, the yellow triangle of Africa, 
 and near it the Spanish Peninsula, which, seen 
 from such a distance, presented the appearance 
 of a bull's skin extended upon a table of lapiz- 
 lazuli. 
 
 In the centre of this peninsula I soon traced 
 the deserted plains of the great table land, 
 bounded on the north by the eternal snows of 
 Guadarrama, and on the south by the wilderness 
 of the Mancha, made so famous by the adventures 
 of Don Quixote. In the very middle of the sun- 
 burnt hills I now distinguished a town, smiling 
 with its many gardens and surrounding parks, 
 which alone relieved the monotony of the desert 
 around. A little river ran through this town ; it 
 was the'Manzanares, and the town — Madrid itself, 
 the capital of Spain, the city of my birth ! 
 
 I gazed with anxious eyes upon the dear old 
 town ; yes, I recognised on the east the heights 
 of the Buen Eetiro, covered with trees with thick 
 foliage, under whose delicious shade I had played 
 when a child ; on the north side I saw distinctly 
 the colossal marble structure of the palace, raised
 
 PART THE SECOND. 311 
 
 high above the town upon many a terrace ; but, 
 to my astonishment, I did not see the great red 
 brick barracks in its vicinity, so conspicuous on 
 account of their site and size. And now, when I 
 looked closer upon the old town, I missed several 
 of the buildings which in my mind were so asso- 
 ciated with the capital of Spain. Almost all the 
 suburbs were wanting, particularly those of Sala- 
 manca, Principe Pio, Atocha, and Eecoletos, and 
 the large railway stations, together with many 
 churches and public buildings. 
 
 The streets also presented quite a different 
 aspect ; indeed, Madrid was so changed that, if 
 it had not been for its position, and the few un- 
 mistakable buildings, such as the Palace, the 
 Museum, and the churches of San Isidro, Santo 
 Tomas, and the Basilica of Atocha, together with 
 the Gardens of the Retiro, I do not think I should 
 have recognised the town at all, so changed it 
 appeared to me when I stopped to inspect it in 
 detail. 
 
 Could this really be Madrid ? I thought, as I 
 gazed upon the town before me, utterly bewil- 
 dered by the changes which had taken place in it 
 in so short a time. Then it occurred to me that, 
 instead of takins; a few seconds, as I had at first 
 thought, to reach Vega, I had taken several 
 years, and that the town I was now gazing upon 
 from that star, was the Madrid of the future. 
 
 This could very weU have been, for as time is
 
 312 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 essentially of a relative character, and peculiar to 
 the earth, once away from it, I would of course 
 have quite lost count of time, for I knew that out- 
 side of the earth days and nights do not exist by 
 which we may count its progress. I could, there- 
 fore, very well have spent years and centuries 
 during my voyage to Vega and back, without 
 having been aware of their length. 
 
 But as I examined more closely the changes 
 which had taken place, I was much surprised by 
 finding that the Puerta del Sol, that great centre 
 of the city, presented exactly the same aspect as 
 it did during my youth. The same smaller 
 houses surrounded it, the same crooked and narrow 
 streets emerged from it, and more strange still, the 
 old church of the Buen Suceso, which has long 
 ago disappeared, still occupied its central position 
 between the Calle de Alcala and the Carrera de 
 San Geromino. 
 
 But my astonishment knew no bounds, when 
 in one of the little streets issuing from this 
 square, I recognised the very house in which I 
 had been born twenty-one years before, and 
 which had been pulled down, as you know, to 
 make room for the Hotel de los Principes, a few 
 years later ! 
 
 This was very strange ; instead of having 
 before me the Madrid of the present, or even that 
 of the future, I had before me the Madrid of the 
 past, the Madrid which has so long ago disap-
 
 PART THE SECOND. 313 
 
 peared, the Madrid, in fact, of the time of my 
 birth! 
 
 I could hardly believe my own eyes, I could 
 scarcely credit my senses, was this really the 
 Madrid of twenty years ago ? How could this be ? 
 Could time go backwards instead of forwards, in 
 the strange land I now inhabited ?
 
 IV. 
 
 " Tlie stranger at my fireside cannot see 
 
 The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear, 
 He but perceives what is ; while unto me 
 A\\ that has been is visible and clear." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Walter. " What very strange things are these 
 which you are telling me, Conchita ? If you were 
 a living person, I would say you had been dream- 
 ing, but I can hardly attribute a dream to a free 
 spirit. How can you account for these strange 
 phenomena ? Surely you must have soon found 
 out the truth of what you saw ! But before 
 going on with your strange adventures, I wish 
 you would tell me how it was that you were 
 unable to calculate how long you had taken to 
 go to Vega, and see our little earth from that 
 star ? " 
 
 Conchita. " Because, my dearest husband, in 
 space there is no time. I mean to say, that 
 time, or what you call time on earth, is nothing 
 but a succession of periods, during which certain 
 changes in matter take place. The division 
 of time upon your earth, and upon all others 
 under the same conditions, is necessarily regu- 
 lated by their movements, with reference to the
 
 PART THE SECOND. 
 
 ji^ 
 
 central star or sun which illiiminates them. 
 Thus day to you, is when the sun's rays fall upon 
 your side of the earth ; night when they fall on 
 the other side, and natiu'ally you are left in the 
 shade. Each planet, even of your system, has a dif- 
 ferent measurement of time, according to the length 
 of their days and years. Thus, in Neptune the 
 year is one hundred and sixty-four times longer 
 than yours, while in Mercury it is only of eighty- 
 eight days. Thus you see that time is a thing 
 entirely distinct and peculiar to each planet, each 
 of which has an entirely dififerent measurement of 
 it. Whilst outside this, in space, time does not 
 exist at all. 
 
 " Time may therefore be defined as the period 
 which is occupied in eternity to effect certain 
 changes in material forms, and is entirely depend- 
 ent upon the movements of material bodies, by 
 which alone it is reo-ulated. 
 
 " Let us suppose ourselves to be present at the 
 origin of a world ; at that period of eternity 
 when God is about to call into existence a new 
 earth, and when there can be no time for that 
 particular world, as it does not exist. But the 
 world is formed, the first hour has sounded, and 
 now it will run its regular and periodical course 
 round its sun, having henceforth nights and days 
 and seasons, according to the velocity of its revo- 
 lutions. 
 
 " Let us now transport ourselves to the last
 
 3i6 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 day of this world, wlien, bowed beneath the 
 weight of ages, it will be blotted out of the uni- 
 verse. At this epoch the sequence of terrestrial 
 events is interrupted, the planetary movements, 
 by which alone time was constituted, come to an 
 end. The planet is destroyed, and its record of 
 time ends with it. 
 
 " Thus in each world there is a different time, 
 dating from the period of its formation, and 
 ending with its final destruction. Outside these 
 worlds there is no time, nothing but eternity, 
 passive and changeless, independent of suns and 
 planets. 
 
 " Spirits, while in a material world, are 
 obliged to accommodate themselves to its par- 
 ticular time ; but, once out of it, once free in 
 space, they are no longer limited or confined by 
 it ; for the laws of matter do not, even analogi- 
 cally, define those which bind spirit. 
 
 " Thus you see, my dear Walter, that being 
 now a disembodied spirit, independent of the 
 laws of particular worlds, I am unable to appre- 
 ciate what you call time, and could not therefore 
 realise how long I had taken to travel from the 
 earth to Vega, and from thence look back again 
 upon the earth." 
 
 Walter. " I think your definition of time 
 beautiful, Conchita ; for it enables me now, for 
 the first time, to realise its local character ; and that 
 in the numberless worlds of space time is as diverse
 
 PART THE SECOND. 317 
 
 as those worlds themselves ; and its ephemeric 
 succession of days, nights, and seasons are 
 merged, beyond the range of each world, in the 
 changeless light of eternity ; that fills with its 
 peaceful splendour, the immensity of God's 
 universe. I only wish I could comprehend as 
 clearly all your grand ideas ; but I am afraid 
 my earthly prejudices, and limited intellect, 
 will always stand in the way of your glorious 
 descriptions." 
 
 Concliita. " I wish then, my Walter, that you 
 would point out to me the things you cannot 
 understand, so that I may make them clearer to 
 you. You know that I only live for you, even in 
 this bright world of spirits." 
 
 Walter. " Then, if you are so very kind, my 
 angel wife, let me first of all ask you, how it was 
 that, from the great distance in which you found 
 yourself, 50,830,000 millions of leagues from the 
 earth, if I remember rightly, you were able to 
 distinguish so plainly our poor little globe ? 
 How is it that this and all the other planets 
 are not lost amongst the glorious rays of the 
 sun, as are those of other systems in the central 
 star, when we see them from our observa- 
 tories ? " 
 
 Concliita. " You are quite right, Walter ; this 
 would indeed be the case if we saw, as you do, 
 with material eyes ; but our organs are purely 
 spiritual, and can therefore see the smallest
 
 3i8 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 flower, where your largest telescopes only distin- 
 guish a misty nebula. In the material eye, the 
 rays of light — which, as you know, constitute the 
 vision — diverge, and diverge in such a way as to 
 make a small object placed near it, appear quite 
 large, thus hiding a larger but more distant one 
 from its sight. In the spiritual eye this does not 
 take place, for the rays of the vision enter it in 
 parallel lines, and thus it can see each object, 
 independent of the laws of perspective in its real 
 proportions. 
 
 " This will explain to you, I think, how it was 
 that from my new home, near the beautiful sun 
 of Vega, and about 50,830,000 millions of leagues 
 from the earth, I was able to distinguish, when I 
 fixed my attention upon them, not only the 
 streets of Madrid, but even the people walking in 
 them." 
 
 Walter. " Your explanation seems very clear, 
 Conchita ; and I think I can comprehend you 
 better, now I see that in order to appreciate 
 fully your adventures, I must keep constantly in 
 mind that your organs are different from mine; 
 that you are independent of any laws of time, 
 and in one word, that you are no longer a human 
 being, but a disembodied spirit. 
 
 *' One thing, however, puzzles me still. It is 
 true that you are an immaterial being, and are 
 therefore independent of all material laws ; but 
 surely you must- depend upon space, for this is a
 
 PART THE SECOXD. 319 
 
 thing equally necessary to all, whether material 
 or spiritual ; your spirit, pure and immaterial as 
 it is, must necessarily occupy some space." 
 
 Concliita. " I have told you already that 
 spirit is unhindered by, and independent of, all the 
 laws of time and space as applied to changes in 
 matter. Spirit does not occupy any material 
 space. 
 
 " In the chemical decomposition of death, the 
 spirit quits the form it occupied ; yet all the 
 attributes of matter will be found in their in- 
 tegrity in the form which ivas a man, but which, 
 destitute of spirit, is man no more. If you weigh 
 the lifeless coipse, nothing seems to be wanting, 
 nothino^ there is lost, nothino- at least that lived 
 in what you call time, or occupied what men 
 term space. By this alone I can prove to you 
 that the true man — the invisible spirit that 
 has fled — has neither weight, nor density, im- 
 penetrability nor divisibility, nay, nor any of the 
 attributes of matter : but is like thouo-ht, free 
 to come and go, and realises none of the bound- 
 aries of time, nor the obstacles of space, which are 
 purely material." 
 
 Walter. " Now I think I can comprehend all 
 you have told me before, but I am most anxious 
 to know how it was that when you saw Madrid 
 from Vega you saw it so changed ? This is a 
 mystery I fear I shall never understand. Could 
 you not have been mistaken, and thought you
 
 320 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 really saw, what was in truth but a dim recollec- 
 tion of your early life passed in a town, which a 
 few years have so much altered and improved ? " 
 Conchita. " You will see, from what befel me 
 directly afterwards, that the town I had seen 
 from Vega was really the Madrid of my birth ; 
 and I think, after hearing all I have to tell you 
 on the subject, that you Avill no longer wonder at 
 this, which to you at present seems so mysteri- 
 ous, and which is but a natural phenomenon, 
 easy to be accounted for by the law of Nature, 
 like every other, when the mind is capable of 
 understanding and appreciating the explanation."
 
 V. 
 
 " In Scripture we are perpetually reminded that the laws of the 
 spiritual world are, in the highest sense, laws of Nature, whose 
 obligation, operation, and effect are all in the constitution 
 and course of things." — ^Duke of Argyle. 
 
 You may easily imagine, my dearest Walter, 
 how surprised I was at seeing before me not only 
 the Madrid of the time of my birth, but the very 
 house in which I had been born twenty-one years 
 before, and which has long ago disappeared. 
 
 I had hardly recovered from my surprise, 
 when I felt the soft pressure of a hand upon my 
 shoulder. This brought me back instantly to 
 the full consciousness of my situation. I tm^ned 
 round, and saw my father, who stood behind me, 
 anxiously watching my movements ! 
 
 " You are studying your past life," he said, as 
 a sweet smile played upon his angel face. 
 
 " Father ! " I exclaimed, taking him by the 
 hand, "can you explain to me this mystery 1 — can 
 you tell me whether this is really the earth I see 
 in the distance, or a vision caused by the dim 
 recollections of my youth 1 " 
 
 "It is really the earth, my child. But I can 
 understand how it is that you are astonished at 
 seeing it as it appeared at the time of your birth. 
 
 I. X
 
 322 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 However, it is neither, as jou would at first 
 imagine, a vision, nor phenomenon of memory, nor 
 even a marvellous and supernatural occurrence; 
 but an actual, natural, incontestible, and positive 
 fact, which I think you will soon be able to 
 realise and appreciate." 
 
 " Can this be a natural occurrence ? Can the 
 past indeed become again the present ? " 
 
 " In this world, as well as on the earth, there 
 is nothing supernatural, although you may per- 
 haps be inclined to think otherwise, when I tell 
 you that for us free spirits there is no past.. But 
 even this extraordinary fact can be easily accounted 
 for by the laws of Nature. 
 
 " Nature, as you know, is ruled by certain 
 laws, unchangeable, immutable, eternal. The 
 whole course of the beautiful universe before you 
 is but the collective result of laws. There are 
 also spiritual laws as well as material, for spirits 
 are also ruled by laws the same as matter. All 
 occurrences, therefore, in the spiritual, as in the 
 material world, are determined by the relations of 
 the elements, and the actions of the forces of which 
 these rules are thus prescribed. 
 
 " Thus you see that nothing ever happens con- 
 trary to these laws. Men, as yet, only know a 
 few of the laws which govern matter, and even 
 to acquire this knowledge, limited and imperfect 
 as it is, the labours and the endowments of ages 
 have been necessary. As for the spiritual laws.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 323 
 
 whicli govern the spirit-world, they are still 
 completely ignorant of them." 
 
 " Were these laws of which you speak made to 
 rule creation ? — I mean to say, were they accom- 
 modated to the foreseen wants of livino^ beino-s, 
 or did those wants proceed from the laws that 
 govern them ? " 
 
 " The things, and the laws that govern them, 
 being created at the same time, they were made 
 the one for the other ; and in this you can see the 
 mathematical foresight of God, who knew, when 
 He created the universe, what laws it would 
 require/' 
 
 *' But is there a law, dear father, that will ex- 
 plain how it is that the past has all at once turned 
 into the present before my very eyes ? " 
 
 " I will try to explain to you this natural and 
 incontestible truth. You know that light is not 
 transmitted from one place to another instantly, 
 as was once believed by men ; but that it takes a 
 certain time to traverse space, the same as sound, 
 &c. The light proceeding from a star takes there- 
 fore some time to reach the earth, the length of 
 which depends, of course, on the distance of the 
 said star from your planet* 
 
 * The discovery of the laws of light. — " After the motions of the 
 four moons of Jupiter had been sufficiently observed to construct 
 tables of their movements, with a view to predict their eclij)ses, 
 some unaccountable phenomena presented themselves, which, for 
 a time, baffled all the efforts to explahi them. It should be re- 
 membered that the orbit of Jupiter encloses that of the earth, and
 
 324 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " The time that light takes to traverse space has 
 been calculated to be that of one minute for every 
 12,000,000 miles, or 192,000 miles in each second 
 of time. It is found, therefore, that to traverse a 
 distance equal to the entire diameter of the earth's 
 orbit, or 190,000,000 miles, it would take about 
 sixteen minutes ; in the same way it takes one 
 second and a quarter to go from the moon to the 
 
 when the two planets happen to be on the same side of the sun, 
 and in a straight line passing through that orb, they are then at 
 their least distance from each other, and are said to be in con- 
 junction. Now, suppose Jupiter to remain stationary, at the end 
 of half a year the earth will have reached the opposite point of 
 her orbit, and will now be more distant from Jupiter by an amount 
 equal to the diameter of her orbit, or nearly 200,000,000 miles. 
 Retaining carefully those positions in the mind, we shall follow 
 the facts about to be presented with the greatest ease. 
 
 " It was found that those eclipses of Jupiter's satellites, which 
 occurred while the earth and planet were at their least distance 
 from each other, always came on sooner than the time predicted 
 by the tables; while, on the contrary, those which took place 
 when the planets were most remote from each other, occurred 
 later than the computed time. A still more extended examination 
 of these remarkable phenomena demonstrated the fact, that the 
 discrepancies depended evidently on the absolute increase and 
 decrease of distance which marked the relative position of the 
 planets in their revolutions around the sun. For a long time no 
 explanation of these undeniable truths could be found, until the 
 mystery was finally solved by Roemer, a Danish astronomer, who, 
 with admirable sagacity, traced these irregularities to their true 
 source, and found that they arose from the fact that light tra- 
 velled through space with a finite and measurable velocity. 
 
 " The explanation is simple. When Jupiter and the earth are 
 at their least distance from each other, the stream of light flowing 
 from the satellite of the great planet traverses a shorter space to 
 reach the eye of the observer on the earth, by nearly 200,000,000 
 miles, than when the planets are most remote from each other.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 325 
 
 earth (which is about 96,109 astronomical leagues 
 from her satellite) ; eight minutes thirteen seconds 
 to arrive at the earth from the sun (which is about 
 37,000,000 leagues); fifty-two minutes to arrive 
 from Jupiter (which is about 155,000,000); two 
 hours to arrive from Uranus (which is about 
 666,000,000); and three hours to arrive from 
 Neptune (which is 1,073,000,000 leagues) from 
 your planet. 
 
 In case, therefore, this stream is in any way cut off, it will run 
 out sooner in the first than in the second position, by the time 
 required to pass over the diameter of the earth's orbit. The 
 stream of light is actually shorter, by 200,000,000 miles, in the 
 first than in the second position of the planets. 
 
 " Now, the satellites of Jupiter receive their light from the sun ; 
 they reflect this light to the earth, and when the body of their 
 primary is interposed between them and their source of light, 
 they are eclipsed ; their Hght is cut off ; its flow is interrupted ; 
 and when the stream of light starting from them at the instant 
 the supply is cut off shall have run out, then, and not till then, 
 does the satellite become invisible. This explanation accounts for 
 all the phenomena in the most beautiful manner. 
 
 "The tables had been constructed from the mean of a great 
 number -of observed eclipses. Hence, those which took place 
 while Jupiter and the earth were near each other, would happen 
 earlier than predicted ; while those taking place when the planets 
 were at their greatest distance, would occur later than the time 
 given by the tables. But the velocity with which this mysterious, 
 subtle, intangible substance called light, flew through the regions 
 of space, as determined by this wonderful theory, was so great as 
 to startle the miuds of even its strongest advocates, and to demand 
 the most positive testimony to induce the belief of those disposed 
 to scepticism. It was found to traverse a distance equal to the 
 entire diameter of the earth's orbit, or 190,000,000 miles, in about 
 sixteen minutes ! giving a velocity of 12,000,000 miles per minute, 
 or 192,000 miles (77,000 astronomical leagues) in each second of 
 time 1 "— rAe Orbs of Heaven, by 0. M. Mitchell, A.M.
 
 326 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " This. is the reason, Conchita, that we do not 
 see the stars such as they are, but such as they 
 were at the moment when the luminous rays 
 which we see, proceeded from them. If a volcano, 
 for instance, was to burst out in Jupiter, the in- 
 habitants of the earth would only see it two hours 
 afterwards. 
 
 " Thus you perceive that light does not travel 
 by any means as fast as thought, and that the 
 farther you go from a star the longer tinue does 
 its light take to reach you. The luminous rays, 
 for instance, of the star nearest to your earth (the 
 alpha of the Centaur) takes three years and eight 
 months to traverse the 8,376,800 million leagues 
 which are between it and the world. The farther 
 you go from the earth, the longer time will its 
 rays take to reach you ; if you go to Sirius, for 
 instance, the most beautiful of all stars, you will 
 only see your poor little earth as it appeared 
 fourteen years and two months before, because its 
 rays can only reach you in that time on account 
 of the enormous distance which divides you. 
 
 " Now, as at present, we are, as I have told 
 you, in Arabel, one of the planets belonging to 
 the star Vega or alpha of the Lyre, which is 
 50,830,000 million leagues from the earth, you 
 must not be astonished to learn that it takes 
 nearly twenty-one years and three months, for the 
 rays of your old home to reach your new habita- 
 tion. So that when you look upon it you see.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 327 
 
 not the city you have just left but the city of 
 twenty- one years ago. 
 
 •' Thus you see, my dear daughter, that the 
 past is always present to the free spirits, and that 
 they have only to go far enough from the earth 
 to see once more any particular act of their lives, 
 no matter how remote." 
 
 " Now I understand how it is that I see before 
 me Madrid as it was at the time of my birth, 
 just twenty-one years ago, which is precisely 
 the time which its rays take to reach Arabel, 
 where I now stand. But what I cannot yet 
 understand, my father, is, how I could have 
 travelled even faster than light, so as to have 
 reached my new home even before the very 
 luminous rays which emanate from the sun, to 
 which it appertains." 
 
 He smiled kindly upon me and then said : 
 '' You always forget that you are a free spirit, 
 and as such, independent of all the laws of mat- 
 ter. Lio-ht is a material element, and is reo-ulated 
 by time and space, but you are a spirit, and de- 
 pend therefore, on the spiritual laws, which do 
 not recognise either time or space. Spirits travel 
 with the velocity of thought, and they arrive at 
 their destination all the sooner when they desire 
 it, and later when they have less desire ; the way 
 itself beingr leno-thened or shortened accordino^ to 
 their desire. This may be illustrated by the 
 thoughts of man, for whatever he views intensely
 
 328 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 in thought he sees before him as present. He 
 who reflects, also knows that neither does his 
 sight take account of space, except from the inter- 
 mediate objects on the earth which he sees at the 
 same time ; now in the spirit world, as you know 
 already, the spirit only sees what it wants to see, 
 and therefore no intermediate objects are in the 
 way to point out to it the distance of the par- 
 ticular object its attention is fixed upon." 
 
 " Now I think I can understand the reality of 
 this curious fact; but it is indeed strange, oh, my 
 father! that in the year 1871 I should see what 
 happened in the year 1850." 
 
 " It is one of the laws of light which, as yet, is 
 unknown to the astronomers of the little world 
 from which you come ; and yet the physical law 
 of the successive transmission of light is the fun- 
 damental element of the conditions of our future 
 life. Every spirit when he dies, sees by this 
 means, his own life over again ; he has only to go 
 a few leagues into space, aAvay from the earth, to 
 catch the rays of light which carry into eternity 
 the photographic image of every one of his 
 actions. 
 
 " Thus you see, my child, that nothing is ever 
 forgotten, no good action is ever lost, no crime 
 ever remains unpunished, for light, with a velocity 
 of 77,000 leagues a second, carries the exact pho- 
 tograph, so to speak, of every one of our actions 
 into the unsoundable depths of eternity.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 329 
 
 "What spirits dread the most, my child, is to 
 see over again the crimes they have committed 
 during their earthly lives ; and God punishes them 
 sometimes ^dth a constant view of those crimes. 
 For this they are obliged to travel through space, 
 with a velocity equal to that of Hght, and they 
 have for ever before their eyes that particular 
 action of their life which was committed at the 
 moment when the ray of light, in company with 
 which they are travelling, left the world. All the 
 horrors of Dante's imaginary hell put together, 
 I can tell you, my Conchita, are not comparable 
 to this reality; for this is a spiritual punishment 
 which even our all-merciful Father finds sometimes 
 necessary to inflict upon His disobedient and sin- 
 ful children. 
 
 " But it is not only an earthly life which 
 spirits see over again as they travel through 
 space, but all their previous lives, all their 
 numerous material existences ; for, as you know 
 Conchita, our spirits before being last incarnated 
 upon the earth, had already gone through many 
 other earthly existences, the actions of every one 
 of which are at present travelling through space." 
 
 " The universe must be, then, of prodigious 
 si^e, if it is possible for a ray of light which, as 
 you say, traverses 192,000 miles (77,000 leagues) 
 every second of time, to travel for ages in one 
 direction and always with the same velocity," T 
 said, as I cast an inquisitive look towards the
 
 330 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 sparkling Milky Way, which shone in the distant 
 blue firmament, even as it does for the inhabi- 
 tants of the earth. 
 
 " The universe," he answered, " cannot be 
 called of prodigious size. It has no size, it is 
 infinite; and I assert this, because it is impossible 
 to conceive any limits to space ; and that, however 
 difficult it may be to conceive of infinity, it is 
 easier to go on for ever in thought through space, 
 than to stop short at any supposed point of the 
 universe, however distant, beyond which there 
 would be no more space to traverse. 
 
 *' To show you, however, how immense is the 
 universe, 1 will tell you that there exist myriads of 
 stars whose light can only reach us after millions 
 and millions of years of incessant travelling at 
 the rate of 192,000 miles (77,000 leagues) per 
 second. The light of those stars Avliich you see 
 over your head, belonging to the Milky Way, takes 
 15,000 years to reach us. Thus the stars you see 
 now are not those of to-day, but those of 15,000 
 years ago. 
 
 " If you meditate on these facts, you will easily 
 form an idea of the immensity of the universe, 
 and I am sure you will finish by saying that space 
 is infinite." 
 
 Here I ended my interesting view with my 
 father. I have related it to you, Walter, as well 
 as I could remember it, so as best to prove to you
 
 PART THE SECOND. 331 
 
 that tlie star I had seen from Arabel ^vas really 
 this earth, and that the Madrid I then inspected 
 was the Madrid of twenty years ago, and not a 
 vision caused by the vivid recollections of my 
 early youth, as I had at first imagined.
 
 VI. 
 
 " To doubt, and to be astonished, is to recognise our ignorance 
 Hence it is that the lover of wisdom is, in a certain way, a lover 
 of myths, for the subject of myths is the astonishing and marvel- 
 lous." — Sir W. Hamilton (after Aristotle). 
 
 Walter. "What you tell me, my dearest wife, is 
 really astonishing. I do not think I could ever 
 have believed such an extraordinary vision to be 
 a true fact, proved by the recognised laws of 
 science. I have often heard it said that in this 
 world there is no present, for as soon as you say 
 the word it belongs to the past ; but, according 
 to your father, in the spirit-world there seems to 
 be no past. This is indeed a new theory, and 
 one which, if generally known by men, would 
 occasion many disputes and many debates." 
 
 Conchita. " In the earth, Walter, as my father 
 truly remarked, you are as yet ignorant of half the 
 most essential laws of nature. But the day will 
 come when physical science will discover in light 
 the principle of all movement and of all existing 
 things. The spectro-analysis, only lately dis- 
 covered upon your world, has already taught you 
 to see in the luminous rays of the sun and the 
 stars, the substances which constitute them. By 
 this means you can determine, tln-ough a distance
 
 PART THE SECOND. * 333 
 
 of millions of leagues, the nature of the celestial 
 bodies of which you receive the luminous rays ! 
 Can you wonder, after this, at the truth of what 
 my father said respecting this same light ? " 
 
 Walter, " There is one objection, however, 
 which seems to me to stand still in the way of 
 his theory." 
 
 Conchita. "And what is that ? Perhaps I may 
 be able to explain it, and make it clear for you/' 
 
 Walter. ''You say that from the world of 
 Arabel you saw distinctly not only the earth, but 
 its continents, and oceans, its cities, and even its 
 inhabitants, and all this in the luminous rays 
 which proceeded from it. How could this be ? " 
 
 Conchita. " In the same way that astronomers 
 are able to determine, by means of the luminous 
 rays proceeding from the stars, their nature, and 
 the elements of which they are composed, are we 
 able to see all that is passing on the planet at 
 the moment that that particular ray of light issued 
 from it, by means of spectro-analysis." 
 
 Walter. " But the earth is an opaque body, it 
 has no light of its own, and cannot, therefore, 
 throw off any luminous rays." 
 
 Conchita. " You forget that it reflects, like all 
 planets, those of the sun, the same as a looking- 
 glass reflects the lighted candle before it ; and 
 thus sends them back again into space stamped 
 with the photograph of what was going on at the 
 time on its surface."
 
 334 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 Walter, " I see you are able to answer all my 
 objections, so I will not trouble you with any more. 
 How liappy you must be, Conehita, to be thus able 
 to know all things, and see all things past as well as 
 present ! What are, indeed, all the pleasures and 
 joys of the material world compared to your intel- 
 lectual and spiritual existence ! Matter, indeed — 
 coarse and heavy matter — while your enjoyments 
 cire purely spiritual ! Oh! if I could but be with 
 you in that brilliant world of yours, away from 
 the earth, and free from its corruptions and ties ! 
 A spirit, free to come and go, and free to love 
 you as an equal, and as a husband once 
 more." 
 
 ConcJiita, " The day will soon come when your 
 wish will be realised — soon, ay, sooner than you 
 imagine! — but you have still a mission to per- 
 form on earth. . . . Eaphael, our child .... 
 he is alone .... abandoned. . . . Ah ! if you 
 but knew how you have been connected in the 
 past, you would not now abandon him to the care 
 of strangers. He is yom^ son, however — and my 
 son. Oh, Walter, do not forget that I Until our 
 child is educated and able to take care of himself, 
 you must remain on earth to watch over him. 
 Until then you will not be free to come to my 
 celestial home to the arms of your loving Con- 
 ehita ! But I see the sun is already announcing 
 his approach at the golden gates of the Eastern 
 Hemisphere, and the beautiful Venus is gradually
 
 PART THE SECOND. 335 
 
 losing her brilliancy. I must leave you, for I too 
 have my duties and my tasks to perform." 
 
 Walter. " So soon ! — so soon ! Ah, Conchita ! 
 you know I only live now for you ; you know 
 that after this glimpse of heaven, the earth will 
 seem a very hell to me. Do not go, or if you 
 must, promise me, before going, that you will 
 come again soon — to-morrow." 
 
 Conchita. '' I will. But do not think that, in 
 the meantime, I shall leave you ; I will be con- 
 stantly near you in spirit. For even when I am 
 amongst the distant stars of the Milky Way, 
 millions and millions of leagues from the earth, 
 I am by your side in thought. Now, farewell, 
 oh, my husband ! May hope, faith, and love, re- 
 main always with you." 
 
 And she was gone ! 
 
 How she went I cannot tell. As her last 
 sweet and cheering words sounded on the thin 
 morning air, and disappeared from it, so had she 
 also vanished. Conchita was no longer by my 
 side ; as useless would it have been i;o strain my 
 ears to catch some lingering echo of her voice, as 
 to strain my eyes in the vain hope of seeing some 
 shadow of her form. 
 
 I looked upwards to the bright, clear sky, from 
 which the stars were fading fast ; thitherward 
 had my sweet spirit soared ; of that I was aware ; 
 and as long as a star remained I continued to 
 gaze. But as the last one disappeared as she had
 
 336 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 done, effaced, as it were, from the sky by the 
 bright effulgence of the coming day, I buried my 
 head in my hands, and felt utterly alone. 
 
 As I thus stood for a few moments giving way 
 to the blankness of despair, a new feeling came 
 over me — like a ray of hope which grew and 
 grew, till my whole being was warmed and 
 cheered by it — as was the dark earth on which I 
 dwelt by the bright rays of the rising sun. The 
 sun of my life had disappeared at its approach, 
 but would gladden my eyes and cheer my heart 
 again, as the orb of day should again disappear, 
 and leave the earth in the darkness of the night 
 — darkness such as had crept over my heart. Of 
 this she had assured me ; and I felt I must do as 
 the earth did, and patiently await her promised 
 return in the calm repose of silence and sleep. 
 
 I therefore hastened to my neglected couch, 
 and was not lono^ before a sweet drowsiness over- 
 powered me.
 
 :n"ight the second. 
 
 " Yerily, verOv, I say unto thee. Except a man be born again, 
 he cannot enter the kinadom of God." — John iii. 
 
 I.
 
 NIGHT THE SECOND. 
 
 I. 
 
 ' ' When the moon is on the wave, 
 
 And the glow-worm in the grass, 
 
 And the meteor on the grave, 
 
 And the wisp on the morass ; 
 
 When the falling stars are shooting. 
 
 And the answer'd owls are hooting, 
 
 And the silent leaves are still 
 
 In the shadow of the hill : 
 
 Shall my soul be upon thine, 
 
 With a power and with a sign/' 
 
 Lord Byron. 
 
 The sun was high in the heavens, when I awoke, 
 and threw open the Venetian blinds of my large 
 window to admit the refreshing sea breeze. How 
 bright was all outside, as I gazed again on the 
 glittering bay, with its little dancing waves, 
 which seemed to leap for very joy as the sun 
 shone on them ! All was busy life. The ferry 
 steamers were plying to and fro ; several large 
 ships had arrived since daybreak, and gay colours 
 were floating from their masts ; the white sails of 
 another were spreading to the breeze, as she was 
 slowly passing out to gain the open sea, and try 
 her fortunes once more upon its treacherous
 
 340 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 breast. Warm hearts were beating with joy on 
 her deck at the prospect of returning to their 
 native land ; and perhaps some were sinking with 
 sorrow from parting with dear ones in the land 
 they were leaving. Such is life on this sad earth ; 
 the smile and the tear are ever side by side. 
 
 Before me was the large dismantled ship, in 
 which the brilliant ball had been held the night 
 before ; hundreds of sailors and other men were 
 busily at work in clearing away, and making her 
 look again more ship-shape; but the awning, under 
 which I had left Lilian Leigh, when I had fled from 
 her side, was still untouched, and the sight of it 
 brought my adventures of the night most vividly 
 to my memory. What had become of her ? Had 
 she returned with heavy heart to the ball-room, 
 when I had left her ? — was she now convinced 
 that I had no heart to give ? — and would she let 
 sorrow and concealment prey on her damask 
 cheek, or would she revive the delicate tint of 
 that fair cheek by natural or artificial means, and 
 smile on some one more worthy of her blandish- 
 ments '? I could not tell ; — and the thought was 
 no sooner conceived than it was gone, to give 
 place to a far deeper emotion, as I thought of my 
 beautiful spirit-love, the darling wife who had so 
 lately stood on that spot by my side. Or could 
 it have been a dream — a wild, enthusiastic, im- 
 possible dreaca? God ! if such after all should 
 prove to be the ease ! Could it be possible that
 
 PART THE SECOND. 341 
 
 I had been dreammg* ? And then I reo-retted that 
 
 o o 
 
 I had nothing to prove, even to myself, that 
 slie had really been there ! If I had but asked 
 for a lock of her hair, or a morsel of her white 
 veil, I could then have gazed at the memento, 
 until convinced of the reality, of what now every 
 moment that I thought of it, seemed to me more 
 and more like an elaborate dream. Involuntarily 
 I turned my eyes to the marble pavement of the 
 balcony where she had stood ; but those light 
 spirit-feet had left no trace, her angel visit was 
 recorded alone in my memory and my heart ; and 
 if these — if these were but keeping the records of 
 a dream, I should indeed be of all men the most 
 miserable. 
 
 My brain spun round at the thought, and my 
 head throbbed so violently, I was obliged to 
 return to my couch, where I passed the rest of 
 the day, for I could not bear to meet any of my 
 fellow- creatures again, until the next night should 
 have brought me the certainty of conviction, and 
 taken me out of this horrible suspense. How 
 could I again meet Lilian Leigh, and indulge 
 with her in commonplace sentiment ? or talk with 
 the Herberts over the frivolities of a ball-room ? 
 I could not, and would not, drown my thoughts 
 and my reason as some men would have done : I 
 preferred to endure them — in solitary misery \ 
 No ; for hope was ever uppermost in my mind. 
 The more I reflected upon the wonderful visit
 
 342 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I had received from the inhabitant of another 
 world, the more wonderful did it appear. But 
 then again a thousand tales had come to mj ears 
 lately, which seemed to confirm the possibility of 
 such communion. Since my visit to the medium 
 in New York, I had become a subscriber to the 
 great Spiritualist paper, The Banner of Light ; 
 and its columns were full of such wonders occur- 
 ling from time to time both in America and in 
 England. Indeed, could I not myself bear witness 
 to the truth of these statements, for had I not 
 beheld my own lost love in New York through 
 the mediumship of Dr Slade ? It was only then 
 one step more wonderful that she should now be 
 able to manifest herself to me without any medium 
 at all, or rather — for that could not be — that an 
 unsuspected mediumistic power had lately been 
 developed in me. Through what unknown and 
 extraordinary process ? Ay, who can tell ? But that 
 there are such people as mediums, who can doubt? 
 Has not a book been gTeatly circulated in France, 
 called " Le Livre des Mediums," written by the 
 celebrated Allan Kardec, a man of great ability, 
 and who had long been known as an indefatigable 
 writer, not of fictions, but on chemistry, astronomy, 
 geometry, arithmetic, and other positive sciences ? 
 and, above all, had he not been crowned by the 
 Royal Academy of Arts for a celebrated treatise 
 on a question of a " System of Studies most 
 in Harmony with the Necessities of the
 
 PART THE SECOND. 343 
 
 Age ? " Was tins the man wlio would lend his 
 name to folly and deception 1 and not only his 
 name, but who would devote his precious time, 
 nay, long years of his life, to the study and the 
 elucidation of a glaring absurdity and delusion, 
 and thus contribute to make others take part in 
 the folly ? It would have been mlfully to have at- 
 tempted to deceive his fellow-beings ; and the whole 
 course of his previous life had been notoriously 
 devoted to their instruction and improvement ; 
 for, ever desirous of rendering the process of 
 instruction aoTeeable and interestino', all his 
 works had tended to that effect ; and even in his 
 earliest years, when at college, he was celebrated 
 for philanthropically teaching all he knew to those 
 fellow-students who had acquired less than himself 
 About the year 1850, when first the spiritual 
 manifestations began to be spoken about, Allan 
 Kardec had devoted himself to the most persever- 
 ing observation of the phenomena, limiting himself 
 principally to the elucidation of the philosophical 
 consequences to be deduced from it. He had 
 been thus able to perceive from the very first the 
 dawning of new natural laws, — new, inasmuch as 
 they had not yet been observed or studied ; laws 
 that re9:ulate the relations of the visible world 
 ^vith the invisible, — ^recognising in the action of 
 the latter, one of the forces of nature, the know- 
 ledo^e of which would throw lio:ht on an endless 
 number of problems considered unsolvable, and
 
 344 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 which had hitherto only been regarded from a 
 religious point of view. 
 
 ^j the study of eflfects we mount to the appre- 
 ciation of causes. In the order of studies united 
 under the generic denomination of spiritualism 
 the facts exist. But no one knows as yet the 
 manner of their production. They exist quite as 
 decidedly as the electric, luminous, and caloric 
 phenomena, but we are as ignorant of the laws 
 that govern them as we are of the essence of elec- 
 tricity and of the essence of light. 
 
 Allan Kardec was therefore continuing to act 
 as the wise and high-souled benefactor of humanity 
 he had always shown himself to be, when he de- 
 voted himself with so much patience and perse- 
 verance to the endeavour to discover these laws 
 which are likely to throw so much light on all the 
 anomalies of human life ; as through them man 
 will be better able to comprehend whence he 
 comes, whither he goes, for what purpose he is on 
 the earth, and why he but too often suffers 
 upon it. 
 
 The true knowledge of sj^iritualism dates from the 
 appearance of his " Livre des Esprits." It became 
 a science which, until then, had only possessed 
 stray elements scattered about without any co- 
 ordination, and whose depths could not be com- 
 prehended by every one. From that moment the 
 doctrine fixed the attention of serious and re- 
 flective minds, and was rapidly developed on the
 
 PART THE SECOND. 345 
 
 Continent. The book has been, I believe, through 
 twenty editions in French, and has been translated 
 into nearly every Continental and some Eastern 
 languages. I knew that in Spain it had attained 
 to its sixth edition some time ao-o. 
 
 It is true that Allan Kardec, who, from the 
 number and importance of the books he compiled 
 on the subject, may be considered as the great 
 master-mind on this particular study, has left us 
 no record of the spiritual appearances, or, as 
 they are called, materialisations, with which the 
 difierent spirituahstic journals, both in England 
 and America, are teeming at this moment ; 
 but that is because the phenomena have been 
 very gradual, and when he wrote had not 
 yet reached the higher point they have now 
 attained. 
 
 From the little tap on the table, which first 
 brought conviction and certainty to the mind that 
 doubted of the continued existence of the dear 
 ones gone before, we have now reached the 
 materialisation of the perfect form and feature, 
 and can in some cases communicate with those 
 dear ones face to face ; hear again the beloved 
 voice, and feel again the warm clasp of the dear 
 hand, which is no longer mouldering in the coffin, 
 but whose pulses are still beating with the warmth 
 and fervour of our own. So at least we are 
 assured, not by the mere wonder- seekers of the 
 hour, but by serious and enquiring scientific men,
 
 346 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 who voTicb. for tlieir assertions with the weight of 
 their own well-known names, after repeated ex- 
 periments of all kinds, made with scientific tests 
 and instruments. 
 
 Allan Kardec has been succeeded in his philo- 
 sophical researches after truth, by such well-known 
 scientific men as Alfred Wallace, F.K.S., one of 
 the foremost naturalists of the day, standing next 
 to Darwin as an elucidator of the doctrine of 
 evolution; Professor Crookes, F.E.S., editor of 
 the Quarterly Journal of Science ; C T. Varley, 
 F.E.S., the electrician of the Atlantic cable; to say 
 nothing of Judge Edmonds, Eobert Dale Owen, 
 Epes Sargent, and a host of other important names, 
 both in England and America, who vouch for the 
 genuineness of these spirit-forms and spirit- voices. 
 
 Why then, should I doubt the evidence of my 
 own senses, and break my heart, and agonise my 
 mind, by permitting these doubts to continue for 
 a moment longer of the reality of the beautiful 
 vision I had experienced the previous night "? If 
 such angel visitors from a brighter sphere had ap- 
 peared to others, and had been testified to by men 
 of such good sense, calm judgment, and cautious 
 observation, as I have named, why should I refuse 
 to believe in the reality of the return of my own 
 lost love ? She, at least, had had a powerful motive 
 to return ; for have we not often heard before, that 
 love is stronger than the grave ? Her love, then, 
 had been able to overcome all obstacles, and since
 
 PART THE SECOND. 347 
 
 she liad conquered them once, she could and would 
 conquer them again. 
 
 Thus I reasoned with myself throughout that 
 long, long, day. Many messages and kind en- 
 quiries were sent to me dm'ing its course from 
 Lilian Leigh, and from my kind friends the Her- 
 berts, who feared from my long seclusion that I 
 must be seriously ill ; but I pleaded a nervous 
 headache, and preserved that solitary seclusion all 
 day long ; and merely partook of a slight repast 
 provided for me by the kind care of ]\1ts Herbert, 
 and a cup of delicious iced lemonade, which I was 
 told by my servant that kind lady had prepared 
 for me with her own fair hands. 
 
 How I watched the glorious sun as he sunk 
 into his rich bed of crimson and gold in the glow- 
 ing western sky ; and how I welcomed the first 
 pale glistening star as it twinkled into sight in 
 the darkeninor mists of evenino-. I could not tear 
 myself away from the balcony, but stood, and 
 stood, until I could stand no longer. Then I 
 drew forward the large American rocking-chair, 
 and, lighting a cigar, I resigned myself to the 
 soothing influence of both these luxuries, whilst I 
 watched the silent heavens, and awaited the ap- 
 pearance of the beautiful star of my destiny, that 
 would set my doubts and fears at rest, and give 
 me positive proof of the glorious futm^e that 
 awaited me, when this mortal should put away its 
 mortality.
 
 348 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Star after star shone out, till the night was no 
 longer dark, but brilliantly beautiful, as those 
 have never seen it who have not been in the 
 tropics, and gazed on a tropical sky ; the air was 
 soft and balmy ; every sound was hushed to rest 
 in the busy city, save from time to time a soft 
 and beautiful gust of distant melody wafted 
 to my ear by the evening breeze, so soft, so dis- 
 tant, and so melodious, that it might have come 
 from some bright star. Now and then the regular 
 stroke of some boatman's oars would disturb the 
 stillness of the midnight ; otherwise all was hushed 
 except the usual voices of the night, the monoton- 
 ous hum of the busy insects in the thick trees of the 
 Mameda beneath my balcony, and the little 
 splash, splash, of the tiny waves, as they broke 
 against its side, which soon ended by lulling me 
 to a sweet repose. The last ashes of the cigar had 
 fallen from my hand when my head began to feel 
 the soothing influence of those soft and regular 
 sounds, and at last fell back on the chair as my 
 eyes closed in gentle slumber. 
 
 How long I slept I cannot tell, I was awoke 
 by the soft pressure of a kiss on my brow, and 
 the still softer murmur of that well-known voice 
 which gently whispered the precious words I had 
 so yearned to hear. 
 
 " My husband ! my darling, darling Walter, I 
 am again at your side, I have been with you 
 often during the day that has seemed so long to
 
 PART THE SECOND. 349 
 
 you ; have you not felt my warm breath on your 
 cheek, or its soft rustling on your hair ? I could 
 not show myself to you, for the daylight is too 
 positive for spirit power — which requires the 
 negative qualities that come with the darkness of 
 the night, when dew descends on the earth, and 
 its emanations are no longer drawn upwards by 
 the powerful rays of light. Walter, dear one, I 
 have kept my promise ; and here you have me 
 once more by your side, faithful to my word/'
 
 IL 
 
 " Wait, darling, wait ! 
 
 You have reached the heavenly strand; 
 But one you love is toiling up, 
 To the height of a better land. 
 
 " Oh ! pause by the shining gates of pearl, 
 Look down the narrow way ; 
 And guide me, by your angel hand, 
 Into a perfect day." 
 
 Walter, " Thank God ! thank God ! It was no 
 dream, for I once more behold yon, my own dear 
 love. God alone knows how much I have suffered 
 during this long day. You say you have been 
 often near me, and doubtless it was the sweet 
 influence of your presence that brought me those 
 happy gleams of hope that have sustained me 
 through those weary hours of suspense and doubt ; 
 but now I once more begin to live, now that I 
 see your beloved form again, and hear the low 
 murmur of your angel voice, dear mfe ! You 
 who are my sun, my life. Ah, Conchita ! how 
 empty and unmeaning the world appears to me, 
 now that I must look elsewhere for you. Oh, 
 forgive me, if for one moment I ever forgot our 
 old love, and indulged in a senseless flirtation
 
 PART THE SECOND. 351 
 
 witli Lilian Leigh ; how you must hate her, and 
 how you must despise me ! " 
 
 Conchita. " I bear no ill-will towards her, 
 Walter ; although she is but a worldly coquette, 
 and a cold schemer. I would have been 
 sorry to have seen you fall a Yictmi to her 
 calculating fascinations ; but I am not jealous 
 of her, for I know you could never have loved 
 her." 
 
 Walter. " I have been thinking, my dearest 
 Conchita, and turning over in my mind the ex- 
 traordinary facts you told me last night. At 
 first I could hardly credit them, although it was 
 you, my angel, who had told me of them. But 
 I have been meditating on them all day, and now 
 I think I can understand all their truth. I can 
 quite believe now, how it was, that finding your- 
 self in the system of Vega, so many millions of 
 miles away from the earth, you saw our little 
 planet, not as it appeared in June 1871, the date 
 of your death, but such as it was in March 1850, 
 l)ecause its rays take twenty-one years and three 
 months to traverse the 50,830,000 millions of 
 astronomical leagues, which divide the earth 
 from the star Vega, or Alpha of the Lyre. And 
 that, although in itself an obscure body, the 
 earth shines in space, as does its satellite the 
 moon, by means of the light reflected on it by 
 the sun. 
 
 " I will not enter into any investigation as to
 
 352 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 the much disputed theory of light ; whether it be 
 an actual emanation from a luminous body of 
 material particles, or whether it be a mere vibra- 
 tory or undulatory motion produced by luminous 
 bodies on some ethereal medium. My only object 
 is to agree to the undoubted fact, that light takes a 
 certain time to travel through space ; and that 
 in case a luminous body were to be suddenly 
 called into existence, and located in space at the 
 distance of 12,000,000 miles from the eye of an 
 observer, who was on the look-out for its light, 
 this light would not reach him until one minute 
 after the creation of the object ; and should it 
 suddenly be struck from existence, the same 
 observer would behold it for one minute after its 
 extinction. 
 
 " After this I can easily understand how it is 
 that, as the events which take place in Neptune 
 would only be seen by the inhabitants of this earth 
 three hours after their occurrence, in the same 
 way those of the earth are only seen in Vega and 
 its system of worlds, twenty- one years and three 
 months afterwards. 
 
 "At last I have begun to realise that the extra- 
 ordinary phenomena you witnessed, was neither 
 a vision, nor the effects of memory, nor even a 
 supernatural and miraculous act, but a positive 
 and natural fact. So you see, my Conchita, that 
 your revelations are not lost upon me, although I 
 do not see all their truth at first, as I should if I
 
 PART THE SECOND. 353 
 
 were a disembodied spirit such as you are ; free 
 from the limitations of materiality." 
 
 Conchita. " To-night I intend to relate to you 
 what befell me after the interesting conversation 
 I had with my father ; and which I repeated to 
 you last evening. 
 
 " As you know, I was in the planet Arabel, 
 one of those belonging to the star Vega. I was 
 yet standing on the same mountain upon which 
 he left me, and my eyes were still fixed upon 
 that little dew-drop in space, which had been my 
 home for twenty-one years, and which still pos- 
 sessed such an attraction for my soul. 
 
 " I saw before me the city of Madrid ; and as 
 I have already told you, the good old capital pre- 
 sented the same aspect it had in the beginning of 
 the year 1850, the date of my birth. 
 
 " My anxious eyes were fixed upon the heights 
 of the Buen Eetiro, those superb and shady 
 gardens on the other side of the Prado, in which 
 I used to play when a child by the side of my 
 Biscay an nurse, in her picturesque costume. As 
 I gazed upon them, vivid and distant recollec- 
 tions of my childhood, which I had long ago 
 forgotten, flashed through my mind. I re- 
 membered the old nurse with her showy dress, 
 covered with gold and velvet bands, and every 
 button of which was a little golden dollar, bril- 
 liant as the light of day. I remembered her 
 white lace handkerchief, so curiously t^visted 
 
 I. z
 
 354 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 round her head, and the large Basque ear-rings 
 which hung from her ears. As all these recoUec- 
 tions of my early days passed through my mind, I 
 noticed a group of children who, accompanied by 
 their nurses, were running under the shady avenues 
 near the lake. My attention was drawn towards 
 them, I inspected their white frocks, now crumpled 
 and soiled with earth, their bright rosy faces 
 and their long golden locks ; when what was my 
 surprise to recognise in one of these children . . . 
 myself ! " 
 
 Walter. "Yourself?" 
 
 Conchita. " Yes, myself, a little girl two years 
 old, running about by the side of my nurse. You 
 may imagine how surprised I was, how taken back. 
 But there was no doubting the evidence of my own 
 eyes. There I was, as large as life, in the same 
 place where I had been nineteen years before." 
 
 Walter. "My dear Conchita, what you are 
 telling me is impossible. You cannot be in two 
 places at the same time : you cannot turn into 
 two individualities. It would be impossible for 
 any one to see a thing which no longer exists. 
 You could not have been a woman of twenty-one 
 in the planet Arabel, and at the same time a 
 child of two, upon the earth." 
 
 Conchita. " It strikes me, Walter, that you 
 jump at conclusions without giving them a 
 moment's consideration. If you reflect upon it 
 for a moment, you will find the fact I have just
 
 PART THE SECOND, 355 
 
 told you to be but tlie natural consequence of 
 the truth you have just admitted. You agree 
 that the rays from the earth take twenty-one 
 years to arrive at Vega ; that the events which 
 take place upon its surface can only reach my 
 new home in that space of time ; in a word, you 
 admit that I saw the world from that star, such 
 as it appeared twenty-one years ago. You also 
 admit that I saw the streets such as they were 
 in those days, and the people who crowded 
 them. You admit all this ? " 
 
 Walter. " I am obliged to admit all that, 
 because I now see it to be nothing more nor less 
 than the natural consequence of the time employed 
 by light to travel through space." 
 
 Conchita. '' Very well. But if I saw a crowd 
 of children runninor throuo^h the avenues of the 
 Eetiro — children who lived twenty- one years ago, 
 just when I too was a child — is it not natural 
 that I should see myself amongst them ? " 
 
 Walter. " But you forget that you no longer 
 form part of those children ; you forget that you 
 are a spirit now, an inhabitant of another planet." 
 
 Conchita. " I do not deny that for a moment. 
 The children I saw before me are also grown up 
 men and women by this time. None of them are 
 now children, and yet I see them as such whenever 
 I like. Because the earth I have before my eyes is 
 not the earth of to-day, but the earth of twenty-one 
 years ago. As I was at that time a child, plapng
 
 356 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 with the others in the gardens near Madrid, I do 
 not perceive why I should not see myself as well 
 as I see the others. I see a great many girls. 
 Why should I not also see the little girl who was 
 myself "? " 
 
 Walter. " I must say that your arguments 
 are most conclusive, although your theory is 
 rather bewildering. Of course it is evident, that 
 if you saw your companions, there is no reason 
 why you should not see yourself. But, pray, go 
 on with your adventures. I feel too much inter- 
 ested in them to interrupt you again. Besides, I 
 know that you have a reason for everything you 
 say." 
 
 Conchita. "As I have told you then, I first 
 saw myself a little girl, playing with other little 
 girls in the beautiful gardens of the Eetiro. After 
 this, I frequently saw myself. 
 
 " I saw myself, when yet a little child, taken 
 for the first time to the Opera. I saw myself 
 driving about with my mother in the Fuente 
 Castellana, and saw over again hundreds of other 
 little events of my young life. 
 
 "Then a great gloom fell upon the house. 
 My father had been wounded in action, and was 
 brought home in a dying state. I once more wit- 
 nessed his death, and again I beheld the sorrow of 
 my riiother. I saw myself, a mere child, trying 
 to console her, and dry her tears with my kisses. 
 I heard her curse the Carlist invaders, who had
 
 PART THE SECOND. 357 
 
 murdered her husband and left me an orphan. I 
 witnessed all these sad scenes once more. How 
 they all came to my mind, when I saw them so 
 plainly before me — even the smallest details I had 
 long ago forgotten ! And new tears came to my 
 eyes, as I beheld this sad episode of my earthly 
 life over again. 
 
 '^ Shortly afterwards, we left Madrid for the 
 South. I saw the lumberinor diligence, which 
 was taking us to our new home ; for in those days 
 there was no railway. We passed over the moun- 
 tains near Toledo ; and then I once more spent 
 days and days on the plains of the Mancha, shut 
 up in a small coupe by the side of my mother, 
 whose black garments showed only too plainly 
 the great loss we had sustained. 
 
 "At last we reached the smiling valleys of 
 Andalusia ; green fields and a rich vegetation suc- 
 ceeded to the dreary wilderness of La Mancha, 
 nature seemed to smile again upon us, and my 
 youthful heart beat once more with joy and hope. 
 
 " We arrived at Seville ; I saw once again the 
 ancient city, the gorgeous Alcazar, and the superb 
 Cathedral. I saw myself standing on the top of 
 the Giralda, and looking up towards the very 
 point in the sky from which I now beheld my- 
 self. / met my own gaze ! Ah, Walter ! you 
 cannot imagine what an extraordinary efiect this 
 had upon me. 
 
 " I was soon afterwards taken to the convent on
 
 358 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 the other side of the Guadalquivir, near Triana, 
 at which I was to be educated, and where I was 
 to spend so many years of my short life. 
 
 *' The monotonous routine of the convent now 
 succeeded to my life of adventures. Once more 
 I strolled by the banks of the beautiful river 
 with my young companions ; once more I knelt 
 before the ancient altar of the church ; and, in 
 one word, I went through my school girl's life 
 over again ; seeing myself gradually growing up, 
 from a child to a woman. 
 
 *^ Then came the great event of my young 
 girl's life. My mother came to see me one morn- 
 ing accompanied by a foreigner, an Englishman. 
 This caused a great commotion amongst the girls, 
 who were watching him from behind the iron 
 railings of the locatory ; and they all pronounced 
 him the handsomest man they had ever seen. 
 Poor girls ! the greater part of them had never 
 seen a man at all, excepting the old doctor, or the 
 one-eyed gardener of the convent ! 
 
 " I came out and was introduced to the hand- 
 some stranger It was yourself. From 
 
 that moment all my thoughts were devoted to 
 you, you became the object of all my wild specu- 
 lations, and the hero of all my dreams. My 
 heart seemed to have been expecting you, for 
 you took possession of it from the very first 
 moment I saw you. 
 
 " Shortly afterwards I left the convent. I was
 
 PART THE SECOND. 359 
 
 presented to tlie Infanta, Duchess of Montpensier, 
 in her beautiful palace of San Telmo, and the next 
 day I went to my first ball, which was given by 
 the Countess of Fuencarral in my honour. There 
 I met you once more. I danced my first waltz 
 with you — the first waltz I had ever danced with 
 one who was not of my own sex — and from that 
 moment our intimacy grew greater and greater. 
 
 " I loved you, Walter ! Ah ! even from Vega 
 I could see how that girl of nineteen summers 
 loved the noble, manly Englishman who pressed 
 her to his heart 1 
 
 " It was, indeed, a new sensation to see you 
 embracing what to me seemed a ghost of myself ! 
 
 " For some time I thought you would not ask 
 my hand — I was so afraid you would go back to 
 your country and forget the poor young girl at 
 Seville who loved you so much ! 
 
 " But you did sue for it, and we were married. 
 Once more I travelled through Spain, but this 
 time it was in the railway, and by yom^ side. I 
 saw again the lovely spots in the Scottish High- 
 lands where our happy honeymoon had been 
 spent. I saw myself by your side standing on 
 the banks of Loch Lomond, and felt happy once 
 more in witnessing my past joys. 
 
 " I followed on my existence during the short 
 years I was your wife. I followed it closely, 
 fearing to lose one single instant of my past 
 happiness. At last the moment arrived which
 
 36o THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 was to be my last ; and strange, marvellous . . . 
 most wonderful of all, I had come back upon the 
 earth, and there I stood by the side of my bed 
 watching my new-born infant. 
 
 " Attracted by the all-absorbing contemplation 
 of my life, my soul had soon forgotten Arabel 
 and Vega. And as spirits travel as fast as 
 thought, I had gradually come nearer and nearer 
 to the earth, and thus I had seen the whole of 
 my past life in less than a day ; and I entered 
 once more my bed-chamber before the cold corpse 
 which had been my earthly envelope had been 
 removed from it to its final resting-place, the 
 family vault in the old church, near Carlton Hall."
 
 III. 
 
 And Abaris, so far from esteeming Pythagoras, who taught 
 these things, a necromancer or a wizard, rather revered and 
 admired him as something divine. 
 
 Jamblich, Vit. Pythag. 
 
 Walter. — " You found yourself again upon the 
 earth 1 " 
 
 ConcUta. — "Yes, \y alter." 
 
 Walter. — " Then, my dearest Conchita, I must 
 once more ask you for an explanation, for I really 
 cannot comprehend your meaning. You say that 
 the light from the earth takes twenty-one years 
 to reach Arabel, and at the same time you tell me 
 that you saw the whole of your earth life in less 
 than a day ; this seems a contradiction. If it was 
 the real course of your life that you were following 
 from the beautiful system of Vega, surely, in virtue 
 of the time necessary for light to traverse space, 
 you must, at least, have employed twenty- one 
 years to see the twenty-one years of your earthly 
 career. If in the year 1871 you saw the earth as 
 it appeared in 1850, surely the luminous rays 
 of 1871 could not possibly reach you before 1893, 
 because the light of our sun, as you have told me 
 yourself, takes twenty-one years to arrive at that 
 distant system of worlds."
 
 362 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Conchita. — " I see by that argument, Walter, 
 that you quite understand the laws of light, I 
 have been trying to teach you. This would 
 indeed have been the case if I had remained in 
 the system of Vega ; the luminous rays from your 
 earth could not have reached me in less than 
 twenty -one years ; but you forget that I am a 
 free spirit, and that I travel as fast as thought. 
 
 " As I fixed my attention on the earth, my spirit 
 was attracted towards it, and ended by gradually 
 drawing me back to my old home. 
 
 "As in this return voyage, I went faster than 
 light, I received the earthly impressions — if I 
 may give them this name — before they had time 
 to reach Vega and its system of worlds. In the 
 middle of my voyage, the light from the earth 
 reached me in ten years, and as I advanced 
 towards it, the time, of course, grew shorter and 
 shorter ; when I arrived at the sun, I saw the 
 earth as it appeared only eight minutes before, and 
 when at last I touched the earth, as light had no 
 distance to travel before reaching me, I beheld 
 the events as they were taking place. Thus, you 
 see, my dear husband, that I was able to view 
 over again my whole existence, in the short space 
 that thought takes to carry a spirit to Vega and 
 back." 
 
 Walter. — " Oh forgive me, my beautiful angel, 
 if I always forget, that, being free from all 
 material hindrances, you are able to travel
 
 PART THE SECOND. 16^ 
 
 through the universe with the rapidity of 
 thought." 
 
 Conchita. — *' What I have told you is not any 
 wonderful event as you may at first imagine, 
 but a natural consequence of spiiit life. Every 
 man, after his death, sees in the same way by 
 which I saw the whole course of my earthly life 
 over again. This, as you may imagine, is a great 
 punishment to the wicked, who do not see it 
 quickly as I did, but who are condemned by the 
 just Creator to contemplate for a certain length of 
 time (ages, in some cases), every bad action of 
 their lives, in order that, having their crimes con- 
 stantly before them, they may learn to comprehend 
 their wickedness, and repent before entering into 
 the full possession of their spiritual powers. 
 Being of the earth earthy, their whole soul is yet 
 concentrated upon the material world ; and thus, 
 even in the world of spirits, they cannot remove 
 their thoughts or their eyes from the material 
 hemisphere, in which they still exist in spirit, and 
 have their being." 

 
 IV. 
 
 Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting : 
 The soul that rises with us, our life's star, 
 Hath had elsewhere its setting, 
 And Cometh from afar. 
 
 WOKDSWORTH {Ode to Immortality). 
 
 II n'est pas plus surprenant de naitre deux fois qu'une; tout 
 est resurrection dans la nature. — Voltaire (Princesse de Bahylone). 
 
 Walter. — "Can you, my Conchita ! who seem 
 to know everything, explain to me the great 
 mystery of life ? You have lifted the dark veil 
 which stood before me and eternity; you have 
 unfolded to me the great mystery of death, which 
 no living man had yet been permitted to unravel ; 
 can you not also explain to me the mystery of 
 life ; which is hidden from mankind by a veil 
 thicker even than that which veils death from our 
 material gaze ? " • 
 
 Conchita. — " I am not all-wise as you suppose, 
 Walter; like Newton I seem but to have picked up 
 a pebble by the sea-shore ; for there exist millions 
 of things which still are mysteries to me, but much 
 I can tell you that you would like to know ; for 
 my spirit is now liberated from its former earthly 
 trammels, and can wander through the spheres 
 and learn to appreciate the laws of God; not to
 
 PART THE SECOND. 365 
 
 their full extent, — but to the extent of its capa- 
 bilities of comprehending and receiving them." 
 
 Walter. — ;" Can you tell me then, how it is that 
 there are good men and bad men in the world ? 
 Can you tell me how it is that life to some is 
 heaven, while to many others it is more like hell ? 
 Can you tell me why some children are born with 
 great minds, independent of all education ; and 
 others are born little n;iore than mere fools ? Can 
 you tell me why there are savages and civilised 
 men ; why some men are born to be bought and 
 sold as slaves, and others to rule as kings upon a 
 golden throne ? Can you tell me the why and 
 the wherefore of all these things ? Is God just in 
 permitting them \ " 
 
 Conchita. — "What to you appears such a great 
 mystery, Walter, is but a natural consequence of 
 the laws of progress ; and if you knew these laws 
 your whole soul would overflow with loving feel- 
 ings of admiration for the sublime wisdom of the 
 Creator, whose justice you now so wrongly ques- 
 tion in your gross ignorance of those laws." 
 
 Walter. — " Of what laws do you speak '? Is 
 there a law that rules life ? A law as arbitrary 
 and unchangeable as those which rule the course 
 of the stars ? " 
 
 Conchita. — " There is. And as I last night told 
 you, the spiritual world is, like the material uni- 
 verse, ruled by certain laws ; unchangeable, im- 
 mutable, wise, just, and eternal as. the Creator
 
 366 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Himself. The laws that govern the spirit are 
 similar in a certain way to the moral laws ; but 
 they differ from them in as much as that we 
 are free to obey, or to disobey, a moral law, but 
 we must invariably obey the laws of the spirit. 
 Their transgression is not punished as that of the 
 former; it is excluded. I may express it in this 
 form — man shall not kill, this is a moral law, but 
 man must die, this is a law of the spirit immutable 
 and eternal." 
 
 Walter. — "Can you tell me some of these laws'? " 
 
 Conchita. — "The principal laws of the spirit 
 world are two, — viz., eternal progress, and re-in- 
 carnation, which, as you must perceive, is but 
 the natural consequence of the first, it being im- 
 possible to progress to any great extent in the 
 short course of one earth life ; an infinite succes- 
 sion of finite existences are necessary to eflfect this 
 eternal progress." 
 
 Walter. — "Re-incarnation! I have often thought 
 of that. You must remember the vision I had at 
 
 Aberfeldy ; and those letters of Lady C which 
 
 interested you so much ; but I have always needed 
 positive proof. I do not doubt the possibility 
 of a second earthly life, but I need an unquestion- 
 able proof of this before I make up my mind to 
 believe in it fully." 
 
 Conchita. — "And what greater proof do you 
 want than that which is afforded to you every 
 day? Is not re-incarnation the only possible
 
 PART THE SECOND. 367 
 
 explanation of every phenomena of eartlily exis- 
 tence ? How else could you explain the facts 
 you are now enquiring about, and that appear to 
 you so incompatible with the msdom and the 
 love of a just and all- wise Creator : that some 
 men are good, and others bad — some higlily 
 intellio'ent, and others brutal savao;es ? 
 
 " Why do children, as you say, offer from their 
 earliest youth such diverse and marked aptitudes? 
 How is it that a Pascal is able to discover by 
 himself thirty-two propositions of Euclid at the 
 age of nine, and thus invent geometry ; while hun- 
 dreds of men are never able to get beyond the 
 Pons Asinorum f 
 
 " How is it that certain children show from their 
 very earliest youth those instincts of vices or of 
 virtues ; those sentiments of noble dignity, or of 
 evil pride, which offer such a contrast to the 
 sphere in which they have been born % 
 
 " AVhy, in one word, and making all abstraction 
 of education, are some men so much more ad- 
 vanced than others ? 
 
 " And above all, how else can you reconcile all 
 these undoubted truths with the love, justice, 
 wisdom, and power which at the same time you 
 attribute to God ? 
 
 " If you meditate on all these things, you will 
 undoubtedly come to the conclusion that this life 
 is but the sequel to a previous existence ; but one 
 link in an endless chain of eternal progress.
 
 368 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " What philosophy can otherwise explain these 
 mysteries of creation ? Either the souls at their 
 birth are equal, or they are not. If they are 
 equal, why these diverse aptitudes which no one 
 can deny '? Why that marked superiority of one 
 over another? Surely you would not sacrifice 
 the justice of the Almighty, in order to settle this 
 difficulty, by saying that Ae hxis made them so 
 according to his own caprice ? 
 
 " If, on the contrary, you admit a succession of 
 previous existences ; whether upon this earth or 
 upon another, all is satisfactorily explained. Each 
 man comes into the world with the intuition of 
 what he has previously acquired, he is more or 
 less advanced according to the number of his pre- 
 vious existences. Just in the same way as if we 
 compare several persons of various ages, each of 
 them will have a development proportioned to 
 the number of his years ; for the number of lives 
 are for the soul, as the number of years are for 
 the body. 
 
 " If you were to assemble in a large hall a 
 thousand persons from the age of one, to that of a 
 hundred, and supposing you ignored this differ- 
 ence between their ages, would you not wonder 
 how it happened that some were large and others 
 small, some old and others young, some educated 
 and others ignorant ? But if you knew the secret 
 that some had lived many yea is before the 
 others, all would be explained to you, and you
 
 PART THE SECOND, 369 
 
 would no longer be astonished at the great differ- 
 ence that would naturally exist between the baby 
 and the man. 
 
 " The succession of existences at once explains 
 all those differences. A Newton is a NeT\i:on 
 because he has lived many times ; and learnt so 
 much, that he is at once able to take the first 
 position in the planet upon which he is incar- 
 nated, independently of the age of his present 
 organisation. A savage is a savage, because as 
 yet he is uneducated, and inexperienced; but with 
 time he too will reach the mountain of knowledge, 
 and take his place by the side of the Xewton. 
 Thus you see that we are all brethren, that we 
 have all been created equal, and that it is only 
 after a long succession of existences that we are 
 able to triumph over ignorance and evil/' 
 
 Walter. " Your theory seems indeed to explain 
 many of the unaccountable facts which otherwise 
 seem likely to remain for ever as mysteries to us. I 
 could never bring myself to believe that God, with 
 all his eternal justice, goodness, and Omnipotence, 
 should have created some of his children superior to 
 others — should have allotted happiness and health 
 to a few, and misery and infirmities to all the 
 rest. According to you, my Conchita, he created 
 all men alike ; and the great difference that we 
 daily notice amongst them proceeds entirely from 
 their own subsequent conduct. Those who have 
 been good, are enjoying the reward of their good 
 
 I. 2 a
 
 370 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 deeds — those wlio have been perverse and wicked 
 are suflfering the consequences of their evil con- 
 duct. Have I understood your meaning ? " 
 
 Conchita. " Yes, Walter. " 
 
 Walter. '' But then, granting that God created 
 all spirits equal, why did he not make them at 
 once perfect, instead of subjecting them to this 
 long series of proofs and transformations ?" 
 
 Conchita. " If God had made the spirits from 
 the very beginning perfect in every way, he would 
 not only have made them according to his image ; 
 he would have made them equal to himself. 
 The creature would then have been equal to the 
 Creator, which of course would be impossible. 
 We are created ignorant and simple — innocent, it 
 is true — on account of our ignorance of all existing 
 things ; but far from being perfect, or even good ; 
 for, knowing not good from evil, how can we 
 choose between them ? Through a long series of 
 existences then, incarnated at different times, and 
 in different material bodies, more or less perfect 
 according to the condition of our soul, we progress 
 and advance gradually towards Him, in whom we 
 live, and move, and have our being; we become 
 in time good and wise ; but without ever reaching 
 that source of perfection which alone belongs to 
 the Almighty ; and which will always divide the 
 creature from the Creator ; for effect can never 
 become cause."
 
 V. 
 
 " Toutes les fois qu'un fait nouveau et saisissant se produit au jour 
 dans la science, les gens disent d'abord : ' Ce n'est pas vrai.' 
 En suite : ' C'est contraire a la religion.' Et a la fin : ' II y a 
 long-temps que tout le monde le savait/ •" — Agassiz. 
 
 Walter, " Do you think, my Conchita, that 
 God, with all his justice and goodness, would 
 force his children to undergo a second life of 
 miseries and tribulations ? Would it not be more 
 in accordance with the supreme ideas we have 
 formed of him, to suppose that he will pardon 
 and reward his children directly after their death, 
 and then send them all to heaven, to enjoy in 
 divine repose a whole eternity of happiness ? " 
 
 Concliita. " No, Walter, that would not be jus- 
 tice. If God were to pardon, and send the wicked 
 to heaven, where would he send the just ? The 
 wicked must be punished for their wickedness, and 
 for their own good, in order that they may repent, 
 and reform, and then enter Heaven. God, in his 
 great mercy, might pardon their sins, but in his 
 great justice he cannot. A punishment is there- 
 fore necessary, but a punishment proportioned to 
 the transgressions of the criminal ; and as man 
 cannot commit an eternal sin, an eternal punish- 
 ment would be preposterously out of proportion
 
 372 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 to his crimes, therefore would not be justice. Do 
 you think that God would be more just in condemn- 
 ing a man to perpetual sufferings for a few moments 
 of error, than in affording him the means of re- 
 pairing his faults and doing penance for them ? 
 
 " Just suppose that two farmers had each a 
 servant, who in time might become heads of farms 
 themselves. One day these two men go out for a 
 holiday together, and get drunk, as ignorant men 
 will do. One of the farmers dismisses his servant 
 in consequence ; in spite of all his prayers and 
 entreaties ; and the poor man, sent out of house 
 and home, dies of misery and cold. The other 
 farmer says to his man : * You have lost a day 
 by your bad behaviour, and you owe me a com- 
 pensation. You have done your work badly ; I 
 will not therefore give you your salary, but I will 
 let you begin over again. Try to work hard, and 
 not get drunk, and I will keep you still in my ser- 
 vice, and you may yet aspire to set up for yourself 
 in the course of time, if you behave properly.' 
 Which of the two farmers do you take to be the 
 most merciful and the most just and humane ? " 
 
 Walter. "The one who gives his servant 
 another chance, of course." 
 
 Concliita. ** And do you think God would be 
 less just and less merciful than the farmers of the 
 earth 1 No ; if we fail in one existence, he will 
 let us have a second chance of success. He will 
 not condemn us to eternal damnation because we
 
 PART THE SECOND. 373 
 
 have failed once. You must remember that he 
 is our Father as well as our God, and what 
 father would like to see his children miserable, if 
 he can make them happy for evermore ? " 
 
 Walter. " I quite agree with what you say, 
 Conchita. You know that I never could bring 
 myself to believe in the existence of an eternal 
 hell : my heart refused a doctrine which is so 
 contrary to all our ideas of justice and of mercy. 
 1 beheve in eternal progress. One is obliged to 
 believe in progress in these days, when all things 
 seem to progress so visibly. And I also believe, 
 that for this eternal progress one life is insufficient. 
 God is too merciful to refuse us opportunities of 
 repentance and amendment ; and vriR therefore 
 give us another chance in a second existence ; 
 but why should you suppose that this second life 
 will take place upon the earth ? Are there not 
 plenty of other worlds in God's universe ? " 
 
 Conchita. " Because we must repair our 
 faults where we have committed them. Besides, 
 I know it to be the case. And why should we 
 not come back to the same world as often as we 
 can find something to learn and to study upon its 
 surface ? Your hypothesis would be a true one, if 
 all the inhabitants of each world were exactly at 
 the same level, intellectually and morally. Spirits 
 could then only progress by going from one world 
 to another. But this is not the case. You have 
 only to look around you to be convinced of this
 
 374 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 fact. There are not two men alike ; whilst be- 
 tween the greater part there exists the greatest 
 degrees of difference. Look at those African 
 negroes, and at their white masters, just outside 
 your window, and you will be convinced of this. 
 Why should you send the savage to a distant 
 world to find the degree above him, when he has 
 got it by his very side upon the earth \ If this 
 were not the case, why did God place the savage 
 by the side of the civilized man ; the negro by the 
 white, the ignorant by the learned ? Do you not 
 see, Walter, that it is this very contact that will 
 make men progress ? There is no more necessity 
 therefore, for a spirit to change his world at every 
 new incarnation, than there is for a student to 
 change his college at every new class to which he 
 advances. 
 
 " God has, in his great wisdom, peopled his 
 worlds in such a way, that each one offers for the 
 spirits w^ho inhabit it, a wide field of improve- 
 ment and education. Besides, as I have told you 
 before, we must repair our faults in the place 
 where we have committed them, and surrounded 
 by the same spirits whom we have injured or 
 offended, or how can we make them the restitu- 
 tion and the reparation we must make them ? 
 what would become of all family ties, and of all 
 earthly friendships, if, after death, each spirit 
 were to go its own way into a distant world \ " 
 
 Walter. "Do you mean to say that families
 
 PART THE SECOND. 375 
 
 still exist in tlie spirit world, and that friendships 
 are more lasting than life % " 
 
 Concliita. "True friendships are. As for 
 family ties, they do not exist as ties outside 
 the earth; but you have seen with what joy 
 and happiness I met my dear parents again. 
 Sympathy and love are immortal as our souls 
 are immortal ; for they are attributes of those 
 souls, and therefore accompany them through all 
 our many incarnations. I will explain this to 
 you some other day. To-night, I want to con- 
 vince you that each spirit should remain in the 
 same world until he has acquired the total sum of 
 knowledge and goodness to be derived from it ; 
 and I should like you to be entirely convinced of 
 this truth before I go on with my subsequent 
 adventures." 
 
 Walter. " I certainly think your doctrine is a 
 very reasonable and just one ; that we should be 
 allowed to come back upon the earth to finish 
 what we have beoun, and bemn what we have 
 left undone ; to repair the evil we have caused, 
 and to suffer the chastisement due for our 
 crimes from the very spirits towards whom we 
 have been unjust ; to become the servants of 
 those whom we have oppressed as our slaves ; and 
 beg our very bread at the door of the palace in 
 which we have ruled supreme, if, in a previous 
 existence, we have disdained the poor beggars who 
 ate the crumbs of bread which fell from our tables.
 
 37^ THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 All this seems very just indeed, and exceedingly 
 plausible .... hut is it true f " 
 
 Conchita. " Can you doubt my words ? 
 What man at the end of his earthly career does 
 not regret to have acquired too late an experience 
 of which he can no longer profit ? This 
 experience cannot be lost, is not lost, for he 
 will profit by it in a new existence. Can you 
 still doubt this law so essential to our progress 
 and to our welfare ? Can you still entertain a 
 doubt as to the reality of re-incarnation ? I wish 
 you were a free spirit like myself, capable of 
 traversing space with the rapidity of thought, 
 that you might see your previous existences, one 
 by one, as I have done, and no longer doubt the 
 truth of this law.'" 
 
 Walter. " Have you seen any of your 
 previous existences, Conchita ? " 
 
 Conehita. "Yes, I have seen them all over 
 again, just in the same way that I saw my last 
 one, and with equal clearness. For this, I had 
 only to go to a star distant enough from the 
 earth, that the luminous rays of this planet 
 should only reach me at the end of many years, 
 in order to see my past over again. From the 
 Alpha of the Large Bear, a star which is millions 
 and millions of miles distant from your planet, I 
 have seen one of my former existences ; from 
 Antares or the Alpha of the Scorpion, I have 
 seen another, which took place many hundred
 
 PART THE SECOND, 377 
 
 years before ; from Fomaliant, I have seen still a 
 more remote one, and thus, by going further and 
 further from the earth, I have passed, in review, 
 one after another, all my previous lives upon its 
 surface. Can I possibly doubt of the reality of 
 re-incarnation after this ? " 
 
 Walter. " You see, my dearest Conchita, we 
 have not all been so highly favoured as you 
 have ; we are not all able to travel with the 
 velocity of thought as you do ; and from the 
 distant stars follow the course of our various 
 earthly existences. We have not even the 
 dimmest recollection of any — at least, I for my part 
 have not; although I have heard people say, they 
 sometimes had flashes of remembrance of some 
 unknown past. How can you ask me, therefore, 
 to believe in the reality of a past of which I 
 have lost all recollection ? " 
 
 Conchita. " Because you cannot remember 
 your previous existences, you will not believe 
 you have had any ! Can you remember your life 
 in your mother's womb ? No : and yet you 
 cannot deny that you were there. Can you 
 remember your first months upon this world 
 passed in the arms of a nurse ? No : and yet 
 you do not doubt for a single moment that you 
 were once a little babe in arms. 
 
 "While incarnated upon the earth, we are 
 obhged to use the material organs of our earthly 
 body, through which alone Ave can receive sensa-
 
 378 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tions, and remember events ; but as our material 
 brain is necessarily imperfect, it cannot remember 
 more than a certain number of events, and those 
 only of its own immediate experience. We thus 
 find ourselves engaged in a new existence, for 
 which we bring new organs, a material instrument 
 newly formed, and a stranger to all antecedents ; 
 of a limited and finite nature, incapable of receiv- 
 ing other impressions than those of the material 
 objects which surround it, and ignorant of all 
 things it cannot see or learn for itself. Such an 
 organism cannot, therefore, appropriate to itself 
 the concrete recollections of an existence which 
 has not been its own ; it cannot, in one word, 
 have the perception, or the memory of actions 
 performed by its in-dwelling spirit in another 
 centre, and with a difierent organisation. In 
 Man's economy, spirit and body constitute one 
 being ; the spirit then cannot divide this unity in 
 order to remember, in its present existence, the acts 
 and perceptions collected together during a pre- 
 vious incarnation ; it can only ponder and reflect 
 upon the actions and perceptions of its present 
 existence which will be the result of the quality it 
 has acquired, and in accordance with the progress 
 it has made in the past. We therefore, for a cer- 
 tain time at least, forget our previous experiences. 
 The caterpillar cannot remember its rudimentary 
 existence in the ^gg ; the chrysalis cannot 
 remember its early days when it worked amongst
 
 PART THE SECOND. 379 
 
 the grass of the field. The beautifully painted 
 butterfly, which flits from flower to flower, spark- 
 ling in the rays of the sun, cannot remember the 
 time when its grub slept suspended to the branch 
 of a tree, nor the morning when its larva coiled 
 itself round the small shrubs ; and yet the ^gg, 
 the caterpillar, the chrysalis, and the butterfly, 
 are they not all one and the same being ? " 
 
 Walter. '' And yet, my beautiful teacher, if 
 we had already lived upon this world, would not 
 something remain to us of those pre^dous exis- 
 tences ? Otherwise, what can be the use of them 
 if we lose all recollection of their having ever 
 taken place ? " 
 
 Concliita. " All is arranged for the best, 
 Walter. The more you know of the universe 
 and the laws which govern it, the more you will 
 admire the justice and foresight of the Creator. 
 God in his wisdom could not permit that the 
 recollections of a previous existence should dis- 
 turb the economy of a second incarnation, or 
 counteract the just measure of probation or ex- 
 piation that he has thought necessary to impose 
 upon the spirits who owe to him their existence ; 
 they therefore, only bring away from this earth- 
 life the general result derived from the lessons of 
 its experience. Every trial we imdergo leaves its 
 trace indelibly engraved upon our souls ; by forti- 
 fying us in ^drtue, improving our minds, colour- 
 ing our sentiments, and awakening our dormant
 
 38o THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 feelings. It is for us to improve each opportunity 
 thus afforded us for advancement, by cultivating 
 the better side of our nature, correcting our evil 
 propensities as they arise, and confirming our- 
 selves in goodness ; all that is required of us, is 
 to do the best we can, to the utmost of our power. 
 As each evil inclination is subdued, a virtuous 
 resolution is implanted in our very being, which 
 will in time bring forth good fruit ; at last per- 
 haps the time will come when, as more perfect 
 beings, the remembrance of the past will no longer 
 hinder our progress in the present, and we shall 
 then probably be permitted to remember even on 
 the earth the incidents of our past experiences, and 
 be able to profit by this knowledge. But at pre- 
 sent these particulars would not help us ; on the 
 contrary, if such a recollection could be reproduced 
 in man, with his present imperfect organism, the 
 confusion which would naturally result for him, 
 caused by the recollection of so many incoherent 
 events — particularly when his memory would begin 
 to fail him — would end by causing in his mind a 
 sort of mania, producing madness ; he would no 
 longer care for the present, and would end by living 
 completely upon the recollections of the past. 
 
 "Besides, if men in their present transitory and 
 imperfect state knew that what they cannot 
 accomplish in one existence they will be able to 
 do in another, they would simply give themselves 
 up to pleasure and enjoyment, saying, * In our
 
 PART THE SECOND. 381 
 
 next life we will work, in this one we intend to 
 enjoy ourselves.' 
 
 " And men are so ignorant at present of what 
 is really good for them, that that 'next life would 
 never come ; and like the children who do not 
 want to go to school, they would always find some 
 pretext for a holiday, and say to-morrow we will 
 work; to-morrow . . . and to-morrow, . . . but that 
 to-morrow would never come. This is the rea- 
 son why men, until now, have not been taught 
 this great truth, for fear that it would only serve 
 them as an excuse for deferring their tasks till a 
 future existence. And even now it can only he 
 received hy thefeiv toho are ready for it. 
 
 " And yet, although we do not remember our 
 previous lives, have we not all experienced at 
 some time or other vague recollections, or con- 
 fused intuitions, of a former existence ? 
 
 " Have we not all felt sometimes, when we 
 have seen a place for the first time, that we have 
 been there before *? 
 
 " And do we not also feel, sometimes, when 
 we meet a person for the first time upon the 
 earth, that we have been previously acquainted ? 
 If not, how is it that we take such sudden likes 
 and dislikes to people, whom as yet we have 
 neither cause to like nor to dislike. What is 
 sympathy, but the vague remembrance of a previ- 
 ous friendship or acquaintance ? 
 
 " And those fixed ideas we so often notice in
 
 382 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 some persons, are they not also the confused re- 
 collections of a previous life ? 
 
 " And as I have said, if it be true we forget 
 that we have ever lived before, we do not forget 
 what we learnt during our previous existences. 
 How else can you explain the extraordinary 
 facility with which some children learn certain 
 things, which we are sure they have never even 
 heard of before in this life ? How can you ex- 
 plain why a Paganini plays the violin from his 
 earliest years, and a Pascal discovers geometry 
 when scarcely nine years old? Why is it, in 
 one word, that some men know things without 
 ever having learnt them ? It is simply that they 
 still possess the remembrance of what they have 
 learnt in a previous incarnation ; although they 
 are not able to account for it When men say 
 that certain individuals have old heads on young 
 shoulders, or that they are born artists, pianists, 
 astronomers, linguists, they speak a great truth 
 without knowing it. 
 
 " In a new existence, some of our faculties 
 may remain dormant, so to speak, because our 
 spirit is required to exercise a new one, with 
 which our already acquired faculties might inter- 
 fere; but after death we recover, and again come 
 into the enjoyment of all our faculties, past as 
 well as present ; for nothing is lost that may be 
 of any use to progress, such is the economy of 
 the universe."
 
 PART THE SECOND. 383 
 
 Alfred Tennyson, with the prophetic inspiration of the true poet, 
 in his " Two Voices," alluding to this subject says :— 
 " I cannot make this matter plain, 
 But 1 would shoot, howe'er in vain, 
 A random arrow from the brain. 
 
 " It may be that no life is found, 
 Which only to one engine bound 
 FaUs off, but cycles always round. 
 
 " As old mythologies relate, 
 
 Some draught of Lethe might await 
 The stepping thro' from state to state. 
 
 " As here we find in trances, men 
 Forget the dream that happens then, 
 Until they fall in trance again. 
 
 " So might we, if our state were such 
 As one before, remember much, 
 For those two likes might meet and touch. 
 
 " But, if I lapsed from nobler place, 
 Some legend of a fallen race . 
 Alone might hint of my disgrace ; 
 
 " Some vague emotion of delight 
 In gazing up an Alpine height, 
 Some yearning towards the lamps of night. 
 
 *' Or if thro' lower lives I came — 
 Tho' all experience past became 
 Consolidate in mind and frame — 
 
 *' I might forget my weaker lot ; 
 For is not our first year forgot ? 
 The haunts of memory echo not. 
 
 » And men, whose reason long was blind. 
 From cells of madness unconfined, 
 Oft lose whole years of darker mind. 
 
 " Much more, if first I floated free, 
 As n^ed essence, must I be 
 Incompetent of memory :
 
 384 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " For memory dealing but with time, 
 And he with matter, should she climb 
 Beyond her own material prime ? 
 
 " Moreover, something is or seems, 
 That touches me with mystic gleams, 
 Like glimpses of forgotten dreams — 
 
 " Of something felt, like something here, 
 Of something done, I know not where ; 
 Such as no language may declare."
 
 VI. 
 
 " Veniet tempus, quo poster! nos, tarn aperta ignorasse, mira- 
 buntur." — Seneca. 
 
 *' It is a very ancient opinion that souls, when they leave this 
 world, go to Hades, from whence they again return to this earth, 
 
 coming back to life after having passed through death It 
 
 seems to me, Cebes, that nothing can be opposed to this truth, 
 and that we have not been mistaken when we adopted it ; for it is 
 certain, that there is a return to life ; that the living are born of 
 the dead ; that the souls of the dead still live, and that those of 
 the good are happier than those of the bad." 
 
 Socrates, in the Phoedros. 
 
 Walter. " Your theory, my beloved Conchita, 
 is certainly very philosophical, and it reminds me 
 of those speculations of Lessing on the education 
 of the human race,* which you know I so greatly 
 
 * " Go thine inscrutable way, eternal Providence ! only let me 
 not despair of Thee because of this inscrutableness ! Let me not 
 despair of Thee, even if Thy steps sometimes appear to me to be 
 going backwards ! It is not true that the shortest line is always 
 straight. Thou hast, on Thine eternal way, so much to carry on 
 together ; so much to do ; so many side-steps to take ! And what 
 if it were as good as proved that the vast slow wheel, which is 
 bringing mankind nearer and nearer to its future perfection, is 
 only put in motion by smaller, swifter wheels, each of which con- 
 tributes its own individual unit to the sum of that greater move- 
 ment ? . . . And so it is ! The very same way by which the 
 human race is travelhng on to its perfection, must every individual 
 of that race, — one sooner, another later, — bave travelled over. 
 Have travelled over in one and the same lifetime? Can he have been, 
 1. 2 B
 
 386 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 admire ; but certainly it is not a new doctrine, 
 and may be said to resemble in many points the 
 metempsychosis of Plato." 
 
 Concliita. " The antiquity of this doctrine should 
 rather prove to you its truth than form an objec- 
 tion. As to its truth, I may tell you, therefore, 
 that it is as old as the world, and that you will 
 find it to be the basis of all the ancient religions 
 
 in one and the self-same life, a sensual Jew and a spiritual Chris- 
 tian ? Can he, in the self -same life, have overtaken both ? . . . 
 Surely not that ! But why may not every individual man have 
 existed more than once upon this earth? Is this hypothesis so 
 laughable merely because it is the oldest ? Because the human 
 understanding, before the sophistries of the schools had perverted 
 and debilitated it, lighted upon it at once ? Why may not / have 
 already performed those steps of my education which the prospect 
 of merely temporal penalties and rewards can briug man to ? And 
 why may I not also have performed all those other steps which the 
 prospect of eternal rewards has so powerfully assisted us to 
 accomplish? And why should I not come back again, as often as 
 T am able, to acquire fresh knowledge, fresh expertness, from the 
 experiences of this world ? Do I take away so much from one 
 life here that there is nothing to repay me for the trouble of 
 coming back? Is this a reason against it? Or, because I forget 
 that I have been here already ? Happy is it for me that I do for- 
 get ! The recollection of my former condition would permit me to 
 make only a bad use of the present. And even that which I forget 
 now^ is it necessarily forgotten for ever ? Or is it a reason against 
 this hypothesis that so much time would have been lost to me ? 
 (^But can that time he said to be ' lost' to me whose 7'esults have made 
 me ivhat I am.) 'Lost!' 'Time lost!' And how much, then, 
 should [ miss? Is not a whole eternity mine .?" — Gotthold Lessing. 
 Translated by the Rev. Frederick WiUiam Robertson of Brighton. 
 [I consider this little essay of the eminent German philosopher 
 so beautiful, and so well-reasoned, that I have myself translated it 
 into Spanish ; in which language it has appeared in a magazine 
 published in Madrid.]
 
 PART THE SECOND. 387 
 
 and systems of philosophy. P}i;hagoras, as you 
 must know, was not the author of the system of 
 the metempsychosis ; he only adapted it from the 
 Indian and Egyptian philosophers, who believed 
 in it from the remotest period. But you also 
 must have noticed that there exists a vast 
 difference between the ancient metempsychosis 
 and the modern doctrine of re-incarnation. The 
 ancients taught that the soul of man could be re- 
 incarnated in the body of an animal, which of 
 course, is absurd, as where would then be the 
 progress of the spirit ^ I do not believe for one 
 moment that Pythagoras or Plato themselves 
 believed in this retrogradation, but that they 
 thouofht themselves oblis^ed to teach it, in order 
 to create in their carnal-minded and ignorant dis- 
 ciples the fear that if they behaved badly they 
 would be punished by having to live again in the 
 body of an animal. 
 
 " Every religion of antiquity had its Mysteries or 
 Sacred teachings ; thus concealing their profound- 
 est doctrines under a veil of initiation. The letter 
 of the ancient Bibles, in the same way, was but 
 a vestibule leading to the shrine itself; which was 
 thus veiled by veils which were intended to baffle 
 the rude gaze of the ignorant and carnal-minded ; 
 but still a vestibule, throuorh which the enlioiitened 
 soul might be led up to the inner sanctuary ; to 
 the Hesperian gardens and golden fruit of the 
 Timaeus and the oracles. The principal of these
 
 388 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 mysteries were the Hermetic, the Orphic, the 
 Eleusinian, and the Kabbalistic. Now all these 
 four taught the same great doctrines, upon which 
 were based all their beliefs ; but which were only 
 made known to a few, and this after a long and 
 painful ordeal of initiation. And the principal 
 of these doctrines were : 
 
 Firstly, *'The unity of the Supreme Being; and 
 the fact that the pretended ' gods' of the temple 
 were only representations of the Divine attributes ; 
 symbolised for the use of the unlearned, who were 
 considered to be incapable of appreciating abstract 
 ideas." 
 
 Secondly, *' The plurality of inhabited worlds ; 
 and the true motion of the planets round the sun, 
 as subsequently demonstrated by Copernicus and 
 Galileo." 
 
 Thirdly, " The anteriority of the soul to the 
 body ; and its gradual education and purification 
 through the trials and discipline of a succession of 
 earthly lives in your globe, and in other planets, 
 until freed from the need of any farther contact 
 with planetary matter."* 
 
 But the doctrine of a succession of lives was 
 
 * See Dr Dollinger's treatise on the Eleusinian Mijsteries and 
 his Judaism and Paganism^ vol. i., p. 164. Delormel, also, in his 
 great work on Ancient Mysteries entertains the same opinion, 
 ■when he says : — " From the earliest times the initiated have 
 known the unity, infinity, and perfection of God, the infinity 
 of inhabited worlds, and our successive lives in them ; " and in 
 arguing in support of this latter point he adds, " As it is absurd to
 
 PART THE SECOND. 389 
 
 not taught alone by the sacred mysteries. Reli- 
 gions older and more perfect than those to which 
 they appertained, also had this truth amongst 
 their doctrines. For we find it equally in the 
 Vedas, and in the Bhagavat-Gita of India, as in 
 the Eddas of Scandinavia, and the Zend-Avesta of 
 Persia. All the great masters of ancient religions 
 taught it, and even the Jews believed in it.* 
 
 suppose that blessings and sorrows are the result of chance, ice must 
 believe them to be a consequence of our right doing or tvrong doing in 
 previous lives. ''^ 
 
 The Mysteries also taught the fact of communication between 
 souls in the flesh and souls in the spirit-world, and the grand 
 doctrine of Orpheus in regard to the more advanced spirits, whom 
 he called the ^^ rector gods''"' or ^^ nding gods" of planets — the 
 " Viswadiva" of the Rig Yeda — the " Amshaspundi" of the Zend- 
 Avesta — the ''^ Elohim" of Genesis — and our own " Christ" of the 
 New Testament. We shall see later on, that these names all con- 
 veyed the same meaning. 
 
 For more information on this subject consult the Quatre Evan- 
 giles of Koustaing, the Testimony of the Ages of A. Blackwell, and 
 Simon, Hist, de VEcole d' Aiexandrie, i., 446, 590. 
 
 * " Their notion of the immortality of the soul was the Pytha- 
 gorean metempsychosis ; that the soul, after the dissolution of the 
 body, winged its flight into another ; and these removals were per- 
 petuated and diversified through an infinite succession ; the soul 
 animating a sound and healthy body, or being confined in a de- 
 formed and diseased frame, according to its conduct in a prior 
 state of existence. The author of the book of Wisdom (ch. viii., 
 20) seems to allude to the same doctrine when he tells us that, 
 being good, he came into a body nndejiled. It is evident that the 
 disciples of our Lord had adopted this philosophical doctrine of the 
 transmigration of souls from the Pharisees, whose tenets and tradi- 
 tions were very generally received, when, having met a man who 
 was born blind, they asked him whether it were the sins of this 
 man, in a pre-existent state, which had caused the Sovereign Dis- 
 poser to inflict upon him this punishment. To this inquiry Christ
 
 390 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Walter. " How do you account for the exist- 
 ence of this doctrine amongst those of the earliest 
 religions ?" 
 
 Conchita. " Because it was revealed to them by 
 God himself, for all religious teaching comes from 
 him, and from him alone." 
 
 Walter. "But if all religious teachings come 
 from God, how is it that they are so different ? 
 Surely the God who spoke to Buddha could not 
 have been the same God who afterwards spoke 
 through Christ ? If one revelation was true, the 
 other surely must be false, for they are wonder- 
 
 replied that neither his vices nor sins, in a pre-cxistent state, nor 
 those of his parents, were the cause of his calamity (in this parti- 
 cular instance). — John ix., 1-4. 
 
 " From this notion, derived from the Greek philosophy, we find 
 that during our Saviour's public ministry the Jews speculated fre- 
 quently concerning him, and indulged in continual conjectures as 
 to which of the ancient prophets it was whose soul now animated 
 him, and performed such astonishing miracles. Some contended 
 that it was the soul of Elias, others of Jeremiah, whilst others, less 
 precise, only declared in general terms that it must be the soul of 
 one of the old prophets by which these mighty deeds were now 
 wrought in their midst (Matt, xvi., 14; Luke ix., 19)." — Home's 
 Introduction to the Critical Study of the Scriptures. 
 
 To this I may also add the passage in Mark vi. 14, " And king 
 Herod heard of him (Jesus) ; (for his name was spread abroad :) 
 and he said, that John the Baptist was risen from the dead, and 
 therefore mighty works do shew forth themselves in him. Others 
 said, that it is Elias. And others that it is a prophet, or as one of 
 the prophets. But when Herod heard thereof, he said, It is John, 
 whom I beheaded : he is risen from the dead." (See also Jose- 
 phus' account of the Pharisees and their doctrines. — Antiquities oj 
 the Jewsy B. xviii.)
 
 PART THE SECOND. 391 
 
 fully unlike in almost every part, and often con- 
 tradict each other." 
 
 Conchita. " And does not the New Testament 
 also contradict the Old ? and yet don't you be- 
 lieve them both to have been revealed by the 
 same God?" 
 
 Walter. " This reminds me of Macaulay's con- 
 clusion, that ' revealed religion is not in the 
 nature of a progressive science.' " 
 
 Conchita. •" And vrhy not ? All religions have 
 been revealed by God, and are therefore true ; 
 but as men are at different stand- points, their 
 religious beliefs must also be of a progTe^sive cha- 
 racter. What is truth to you is not necessarily 
 truth to an Indian. You forget those beautiful 
 lines you used once to be so fond of : — 
 
 ' All theories are thought forms — that the mind 
 Creates from its own knowledge, or its guess. 
 God never yet revealed himself in full, 
 And never will. No intellectual form 
 Is able to receive the Deity, 
 Save as a crystal draws the solar light. 
 This is my faith, that God reveals himself 
 To every man according to his state ; 
 Higher to highest mind's ; so lessening down 
 To the dim verge of reason. I believe 
 That there are faculties in man, that are 
 Mind-organs for the Infinite to fill. 
 And that these may unfold without an end, 
 And multiply without an end, and all, 
 Inter-pervaded by one common life, 
 Inform the soul for ever. This I know, 
 Or, knowing not, believe in as in God ; 
 But still my thought is circumscribed ; my faith
 
 392 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Being the sum of all my added thoughts, 
 And these the measure of the active mind.' " 
 
 Walter. "How well you remember those lines ! 
 Yes, my Conchita, I quite agree with those opi- 
 nions. I fully believe that even revelation must 
 be progressive, and yet I cannot understand liow 
 this can possibly be." 
 
 Conchita. " The masters of the ancient religions 
 — Yishnou, Buddha, Moses, Zoroaster, Confucius, 
 Lao-Tze, Mencious, and likewise all the prophets 
 of the Jewish nation — were in the spirit, or in a 
 vision, when they saw all which they afterwards 
 described. When they were in the spirit, or in 
 vision, they were out of their material bodies — 
 that is to say, that their spirit was free from all 
 earthly ties, and able, therefore, to see such things 
 as are only visible to the spirit. The eyes of their 
 spirit were opened, and the eyes of their body 
 shut ; and then they heard what the angels spoke, 
 or what God spoke through the angels, and they 
 likewise saw the things which were represented 
 to them in heaven ; and then also they sometimes 
 seemed to themselves to be carried from place to 
 place, their bodies still remaining where they were. 
 In this state was John when he wrote the Apoca- 
 lypse ; Mahomet when he wrote the Koran ; and 
 sometimes also Ezekiel, Zechariah, Daniel, and 
 Moses.* 
 
 * Consult on this subject Swedenborg's Arcmm Coelestia (1055- 
 1925), Apocalypse Revealed (36), and Allan Kardec's La Ge'nese, 
 ks miracles et les predictions.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 393 
 
 " While in this state of spiritual trance, truths 
 were revealed to them which they were after- 
 wards to teach to the people, but only such truths 
 as they might understand and profit by. ^\^ien 
 they came back from their trance they prophesied 
 and preached what they had seen ; but being men, 
 and therefore carnal and imperfect, they added 
 what they thought proper, and in the same way 
 left out truths which they were intended to reveal. 
 For every prophecy has, according to the very 
 definition of the word, a double source ; it has, if 
 you can understand it, two authors — the one 
 human, the other divine. If uttered by the tongue 
 of man, it must be coloured by his own mind — 
 unless, indeed, he were but a mere instrument 
 without any opinions of his own. The master or 
 prophet expresses in words the truths conveyed 
 to his mind while in the spirit — that is to say, 
 during vision ; but his mind cannot fully em- 
 brace them, for how can man fully comprehend 
 the mind of God ? Every man lives in time, and 
 belongs to time ; the present must be to him 
 clearer than the future. But with God and the 
 higher spirits there is no past nor future ; as I 
 told you last night ; every truth is present to 
 him in all its extent — even as our past is present 
 to us free spirits in all its details — so that God's 
 expression of it, if you can understand me, dififers 
 essentially from that which can be comprehended 
 by the mind, or uttered by the tongue of man.
 
 394 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " Prophets are but the instruments through 
 whom, or rather by means of whom, God speaks 
 to his children — that is to say, inteUigent, and not 
 mere mechanical instruments, but instruments all 
 the same." 
 
 Walter, " The notion of a double sense in 
 the ancient religious teachings, has been enter- 
 tained by many persons. Some — Swedenborg for 
 instance — go further still, and attribute to it as 
 many as three different senses. The Pagans also 
 believed their oracles to possess two distinct 
 meanings. But don't you see, my Conchita, that 
 this notion is highly inconsistent ; because, accord- 
 ing to it, God, who is all-wise and all-powerful, 
 is unable to convey His meaning to the very men 
 he selects to teach his people ? " 
 
 Concliita. " On the contrary, it is the prophet 
 who is unable to understand and appreciate the 
 true meaning of God." 
 
 Walter, " This is more contradictory than 
 ever. The prophet is unable to comprehend God's 
 meaning, and yet he explains his doctrines to the 
 people ! God thus infuses the true meaning into 
 the words which are uttered, although he cannot 
 infuse it into the mind of the man who utters 
 them ! " 
 
 Conchita. " Does not this prove to you, 
 Walter, that the prophets of old, and all the 
 great religious teachers and reformers, were but 
 mediums, through whom the higher spirits, the
 
 PART THE SECOND. 395 
 
 rulers of the planet, taught men progressively the 
 great truths of religion, one after another, as they 
 were able to receive them ? 
 
 " The spirits spoke through them ; but as they 
 spoke with the tongues of men, their doctrines 
 and prophecies participated natui'ally of the ideas 
 of those men." 
 
 Walter, " If that were true, Conchita, we 
 can see farther into the mind and meaning of 
 God than those to whom he addressed those 
 doctrines and prophecies. For we can compre- 
 hend their true sense, while they — even the 
 prophets who meant to expound them — in ex- 
 pressing the ideas which he had put into their 
 minds, mistook or imperfectly conceived those 
 ideas ; but to us it is given to discover the truth 
 which their words contained, but did not express, 
 or which, if they did express, the very speaker 
 was not able to understand them." 
 
 Conchita. " This is only natural, if you re- 
 member the darkness of the times in which they 
 lived, and think for one moment what those men 
 were, and how little they knew; and what we are, 
 and the knowledge we possess. Those men, after 
 all, were but ignorant, and half- civilized : the most 
 learned amongst them ignored the very first laws 
 of Nature 1 No wonder, then, that they should not 
 have understood what we still find it so difficult 
 to comprehend ; aided as we are by all the dis- 
 coveries of modern science. Besides, it was not
 
 396 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 t 
 
 intended that those men were to comprehend to 
 their full extent all the truth of the doctrines 
 they blindly received. The real meaning, indeed, 
 as I have already told you, was not revealed to 
 the public; but only to the few initiated, who 
 alone were considered capable of appreciating the 
 truths, which lay hidden behind the veil of mys- 
 tery, and of external sacrifices and ceremonies ; 
 which baffled, so to speak, the common mind of 
 the ignorant crowd. Thus you see, that though 
 these views were handed down from generation to 
 generation among the learned, their public pro- 
 mulgation was forbidden ; lest they should lead 
 the common people to throw off the yoke of the 
 priests, to addict themselves to the practice of 
 magic, or even, disgusted with the ills of earthly 
 life, to commit suicide in the hope of finding 
 themselves in a happier state of existence; as did 
 the pupils of Hegesias at Cyrene, after listening to 
 his eloquent discourse on immortality ; when, im- 
 patient to enter on the enjoyment of the felicity 
 he had described, they all killed themselves in a 
 body." * 
 
 * Cicero and Plutarch exalt the teaching of the mysteries. 
 Aristophanes and Sophocles also speak in their favour. 
 
 Pythagoras, laniblichus, Socrates, Plato, Tinnaeus of Locris, 
 Archytas of Tarentum, Plotinus, Solon, Thales, Anaxagoras, 
 Archimedes, Aristotle, Aristarchus of Samos, Philolaus, Hierocles, 
 Hipparchus — all taught that the soul is anterior to its body, and 
 that it animates a succession of material forms. In his " Treatise 
 on the Egyptian Mysteries " (sec. vi., chap, iv.), lamblichus says : 
 — " The justice of God is not the justice of men. Man bases his
 
 PART THE SECOND, 397 
 
 « 
 
 Walter. " But is it not absurd to suppose that 
 God would have infused ideas into a man's mind 
 for the sole purpose of being kept hidden as 
 sacred doctrines of some Kabbala or Mysteries ; 
 only to be revealed to a few initiated individuals, 
 and not to be taught to the general public whom 
 he knew would not then have understood 
 them ? " 
 
 Concliita. " We have no reason to suppose that 
 what was then revealed could not be understood 
 by some more developed minds who were above 
 the ignorant superstitions and fanaticism of the 
 general public. In every age and in every 
 nation, there have been spirits at all stages of 
 development, and therefore as superior to the 
 general minds of the people, as we are over the 
 savages of Central Africa. Surely those must 
 have understood the doctrines they taught, and 
 lived for 1 Moses, Zoroaster, Socrates, Plato, 
 surely they at least must have comprehended, 
 even as we now comprehend, the great truths 
 which lay hidden in the wisdom of the Egyptians 
 and the philosophy of the Greeks ! 
 
 idea of justice on the relation of his present life ; God's justice is 
 based on our successive existences, and the great total of our 
 lives. Thus the troubles that afflict us are often the chastisement 
 of sins of which the soul has been guilty in a preceding life. 
 Sometimes God hides from us the reason of our earthly afflictions; 
 but we ought, none the less, to attribute them to his justice." 
 (See A. Blackwell's '' Testimony of the Ages,'" the excellent papers 
 in. The Patlijinder by Dr W. P. Perfitt and J. L. Gooding, and 
 Michelet's '' Bible de THumamte."
 
 398 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " We have no reason to suppose then, that 
 what was revealed in those days could not be 
 understood ; perhaps it was not Stj in all its mean- 
 ing ; I mean its deeper meaning ; but certainly it 
 was understood, to a certain extent ; otherwise it 
 would not have been revealed. 
 
 ''Beneath the obvious meaning of all the 
 doctrinces of antiquity, which were meant for 
 all ; lay a latent signification meant in some 
 future day to connect that revelation with a 
 future one. For example, some parts of the 
 Brahminical revelation were not understood in 
 their fulness until after the coming of Buddha ; 
 the ancient Yedas were only then explained and 
 fulfilled. Some essential doctrines of the Mosaic 
 revelation were not understood either, until the 
 coming of Christ ; who in the same way fulfilled 
 the predictions of the Jewish prophets. 
 
 " Thus you must bear in mind that revelation 
 is not only meant for a race, for a nation, for a 
 generation ; but for a great many races — nations, 
 and generations ; who must naturally be at very 
 difierent stand-points of progression."
 
 VIL 
 
 " temps, suspends ton vol ! heures propices, 
 
 Suspendez votre cours ! 
 Laissez-moi savourer les rapides delices 
 
 Des plus beaux jours ! 
 Mais je demande en vain quelques moments encore, 
 
 Le temps m'echappe et fuit ; , 
 Je dis k cette nuit ; sois plus lente ; et I'aurore 
 
 Va dissiper la nuit." 
 
 Walter. " Then you think that the doctrine 
 of the transmigration which, as we know, was 
 taught by all the ancient religions could not be 
 fully understood in all its bearings until now ? " 
 
 Conchita. — " Yes, and the mistaken notion that 
 human souls can enter the body of animals, 
 which sprang out of this misunderstood truth, 
 tells us plainly enough that the ancients did not, 
 and could not, understand all the truth which 
 lay hidden in ancient revelation ; although 
 revealed to them by God himself. 
 
 " The fact that life is a stream that flows 
 through endless transformations, led them to 
 suppose that a life of exceeding folly and wicked- 
 ness may condemn one to be born for myriads 
 of years, in the shape of abhorred and grovelling 
 animals (who sometimes symbolise that sin) ; but 
 this doctrine, absm^l and unphilosophical as it is.
 
 400 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 I have no doubt did a great deal of good, for it 
 created in the carnal-minded and ignorant people 
 such a mortal dread of becoming an animal in a 
 future existence, that this mere fear, certainly 
 saved them from many crimes and wickednesses 
 which otherwise they would undoubtedly have 
 committed. ^^ 
 
 * " Life was a stream that flowed tlirougli endless transforma- 
 tions ; and it was the delight of this mystical fancy to trace the 
 protean play from shape to shape, through all the changes of 
 natural birth and death in man, in the lower animals, in the 
 vegetable, and even in the mineral world ; and to associate them 
 by ideal identities, as earnestly as modern science traces the atom 
 through all the transmigrations of its history. 
 
 " The belief that each human soul passes through a succession 
 of lives, in different bodily forms, visible or invisible — human, 
 animal, vegetable, or even cosmical, from the plant to the star, — 
 has perhaps been accepted, in some form, by disciples of every 
 great religion in the world. It is common to Greek philosophers, 
 Egyptian priests, Jewish Rabbins, and several early Christian 
 sects. It appears in the speculations of the Kabbalists, of the 
 Neo-Platonists of later European mysteries, and even of socialists 
 like Fourier, who elaborates a fanciful system of successive lives 
 mutually connected by numerical relations. It reaches from the 
 Eleusinian Mysteries down to the religions of many rude tribes of 
 North America and the Pacific isles. Not a few noble dreams of 
 the cultivated imagination are subtly associated with it, as in 
 Plato, Giordano Bruno, Helder, Sir Thomas Browne Calso Voltaire, 
 Sir Humphrey Davy, Goethe, Benjamin Franklin, Ponson du 
 Terrail, Charles Bonnet, Dupont de Nemours, Jean Peynaud, 
 Bouchet de Perthes, Pezzani, Pelletan, Cavour, Massimo d' A zeglio, 
 George Sand, Mery, T^avater, Flammarion, Gautier, Victor Hugo, 
 Louis Figuier, &c.), and are especially notable in Lessing's concep- 
 tion of a gradual improvement of the human type through meta- 
 morphosis in a series of future lives. Its prominence in the faith of 
 the Hindus affords ample material for studying its natural gi^ouuds
 
 PART THE SECOND. 401 
 
 " But after all, is not even this horrible notion, 
 in spite of all its faults and impossibilities, more 
 
 and conditions, as well as its significance for the universal 
 experience. 
 
 " Metempsychosis, as an idea and a faith, has been substantially 
 the effort to express certain imperishable intuitions and organic 
 relations. 
 
 " At the root of it lay first the sense of immortality ; the idea 
 of life as not only transcending death, but as multiplying itself 
 through successive forms of transient being, as if to emphasise asd 
 aflSrm its own necessity again and again ; an entity which no 
 bonds of material investment could hold fast, and no dissolution 
 destroy, however low it might descend in the scale of nature. The 
 sense of immortality is indeed always in some sort a sense of inhe- 
 rent existence, and looks backwards as well as forward ; behind 
 birth as well as beyond death ; infers />re-existence as well as post- 
 existence. It shrinks as much from an absolute beginning of 
 our being as from an end of it ; and so either leaves the soul it 
 is tracing backward, in an impenetrable mystery, content with 
 noting its emergence thence, at the moment of what we call birth, 
 ' traihng clouds of glory from God, who is our home,' — or else 
 follows its earlier adventures with the eye of faith, through pre- 
 vious forms of being, forgotten or dimly recollected. And so the 
 contemplative imagination of the Hindus loved to brood over these 
 possible forms of successive births in hotli directions, from the island 
 of this present life through boundless oceans of the past and future. 
 It was at least a serene and immovable presumption of immortality 
 that made this dream -voyage through the spheres of existence 
 attractive and even possible. 
 
 " Then there was the profound faith in immutable laws of mora] 
 sequence. 'Action,' says Manu, 'verbal, corporeal, mental, beais 
 good or evil fruit, according to its kind ; from men's deeds proceed 
 their transmigrations.' (Manu, xii. 3.) In the philosophical 
 language of the Hindu schools, the ' bonds of action ' are but 
 another name for the endless consequences of conduct. It was 
 natural to explain in this way those present moral as well as phy- 
 sical inequalities among men, their differing characters and des- 
 tinies, which could not be accounted for by the data at hand. 
 The sense of justice demanded that there should be found adequate 
 
 I. 2 c
 
 402 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 sublime, because more just and merciful, than the 
 doctrine taught bj most of the Christian fathers ? 
 
 grounds for these differences, in antecedent good or bad conduct ; 
 which, of course, could only have made their marks in earlier 
 states of existence. Such speculations have been common in the 
 Christian world also, as solutions to justify not merely these actual 
 diiferences in human destiny, but even those imaginary ones of 
 theological invention, for whose infiniteness there seemed no 
 rational ground in men's actual doings in this world. From Origen 
 down to Edward Beecher the solution of this ' conflict of ages' has 
 been sought in pre-existence, which one or another theory of human 
 nature and destiny has made a necessary hypothesis, upon these 
 constantly recognised principles of moral continuity and sequence. 
 
 " We cannot wonder that the ancients satisfied their instincts 
 of justice by similar explanations of the mysteries of good and 
 evil, both physical and moral. 
 
 '•• It is the force of this ethical demand that every gift or defect 
 shall find its ground in positive desert, shall point to some way in 
 which it was earned, — that so frequently causes great personal vir- 
 tues or power to impress the imagination as spiritual resources 
 that only pre-existence can explain ; as heaped-up harvests of for- 
 mer lives, spent in noble disciplines and toil ; while excessive forms 
 of vice seem to require similar accumulations of evil tendency 
 through lives of correspondent tone. 
 
 " Hereditary transmission is indeed the only answer of science 
 to these problems ; and this, in fact, is transmigration of qualities 
 and destinies, if not of souls ; but it does not satisfy that demand 
 of the moral nature, which pre-existence, as we have seen, was 
 better suited to meet ; and so the solution of the inequalities in 
 question goes over with us more wisely, among the possibilities of 
 the life to come. Our oracle is not memory but growth. . . . 
 
 " The idea that evil is always the sign and punishment of past 
 sin was not, however, peculiar to the Hindus, nor to the belief in 
 transmigration. It was held by the Hebrews also ; and the pro- 
 test of the natural heart and mind against it is the central idea of 
 the sublime drama of Job." — Samuel Johnson's Oriental Religions — 
 India — Part the Second. 
 
 See also on this interesting subject — " Ueber gelehrte Tradition 
 im Alterthume, besonders in Indien," &c., read at the meeting of
 
 PART THE SECOND. 403 
 
 The law of Manu distinctly afl&rms the "restora- 
 tion of the wicked/'* and Tajnavalkya also de- 
 scribes the return of the vicious through these 
 purgations to their original better status, and to 
 new opportunities of amendment, t 
 
 " At worst, the Inferno of transmigration, with 
 all its extraordinary incarnations and sufferings of 
 all kinds, had not so relentless a spirit towards the 
 offender as is involved in the developed Christian 
 dogma of endless punishment. 
 
 " Would you not much rather be incarnated yb?' 
 years in the body of a lower animal than suffer 
 for ever the inconceivable torments of your Chris- 
 tian hell ? At least there is a certain hope still 
 left to you, in the doctrine of the metempsychosis, 
 mistaken as it is ; while in the hell of the Chris- 
 Orientalists at Heidelberg by Professor Roth, and published in the 
 Journal of the German Oriental Society, Leipzig, 1867, vol. xxi. — 
 " On the Interpretation of the Yeda," J. Muir, Journal of the 
 Koyal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland. — '• On the 
 Veda of the Hindus and the Veda of the German School," Th. Gold- 
 stiicker. — " The Hymns of the Gaupayanas, and the Legend of King 
 Asamati," by Professor Max Miiller. — " The Rig- Veda- Sanhita, the 
 Sacred Hymns of the Brahmans," translated by F. Max Miiller. — 
 " The Zendavesta," by Westergaard. — " Eastern Life," by H. Mar- 
 tineau. — "La Bible de 1' Humanite," of Michelet. — Williams's 
 " Translation of Sakuatala." — Garbha Upanishad, in Weber's In- 
 dische Stud." — "The Laws of Manu." — "Oriental and Linguistic 
 Studies," by William Dwight Whitney. — Wheeler s " History of 
 India." — And also the valuable article by Professor Roth in the 
 Zeitsch. d. Deutsch. Morg. Gesellschaft, viii. 467, seq. ; and another 
 by Max Miiller in the following volume of the same series for 1855. 
 * Manu, xii. 22. See Elphinstone, quoted in Allen's India, p. 430. 
 t Tajnavalkya, iii., 217, 218.
 
 404 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 tian Church there is none ; for does it not teach 
 us that * as the tree falls so it will lie.' But, 
 thank God, neither of these cruel and impossible 
 doctrines are true ! " 
 
 Walter. " I never could believe, as you know, 
 my Conchita, in the existence of a hell, and I 
 think with you, that even the doctrine of the 
 metempsychosis is preferable to that Christian 
 heaven in which the Deity is said to be glorified 
 by the joy of the saints over the eternal miseries 
 of the wicked in the flames of hell. 
 
 ** I remember St Thomas's celebrated words, 
 * The blessed, without quitting the place they 
 occupy in heaven, will nevertheless witness, in a 
 certain way, probably by virtue of their great in- 
 telligence and clear vision, the torments of the 
 damned; and when they see them, they will not 
 only not feel sorrow, but, on the contrary, they 
 will be overcome with joy ; and they will praise 
 God for their own happiness in witnessing the 
 dreadful anguish of the wicked.' 
 
 " Could anything be more horrible, more impro- 
 bable ? How can a religion which pretends to be 
 one of love and justice teach such monstrous, such 
 refined unutterable cruelty and selfishness ? 
 
 " Oh, good and just God ! let me preserve my 
 power of pitying and consoling my unfortunate 
 brethren ; for such charity is the best part of my 
 being, or shut for ever the doors of thy cruel 
 heaven a^rainst me ! "
 
 PART THE SECOND. 405 
 
 Conchita. " I am glad to find — oh, my husband! 
 — that such are your opinions. But do not so 
 calumniate God, nor attribute to him such 
 unjust and unmerciful proceedings as are im- 
 plied by the doctrines of the metempsychosis, or 
 of the eternal damnation of the wicked ; but rather 
 think of him as of a Father, loving, merciful, and 
 kind; and, above all, just and forgi^dng, who will 
 enable the sinner to repent, and amend his ways, 
 until seventy times seven. 
 
 " I have conveyed to you in as few words as 
 I could the antiquity of the doctrine of re-incar- 
 nation ; you see that all religions, up to Chris- 
 tianity itself, have been more or less based upon 
 this idea. The theory of the eternal transmigra- 
 tion of souls is not therefore a foolish notion, but 
 one which has been taught and believed in by the 
 most eminent men of all ages. You may believe it 
 to have been at first revealed from heaven to man, or 
 not, just as you like ; but an idea cannot traverse so 
 many ages, and be accepted by so many philoso- 
 phers and prophets, if it had no truth in its foun- 
 dation. The antiquity of this doctrine is there- 
 fore a proof in its favour rather than an objection. 
 
 "But I have a proof stronger still, and one 
 which cannot be refuted. I have seen several of 
 my previous lives ! — can I doubt, after this, the 
 reality of the re -incarnation ? " 
 
 Walter. " You have seen several of your pre- 
 vious lives ! How, pray?"
 
 406 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Conchita. " Through the same means by which 
 I saw my last. By going far away from the earth, 
 in order that the luminous rays of this planet, 
 reaching me after hundreds of years of perpetual 
 progress, are able to reveal to me what was going 
 on upon its surface at that time. For, as I have 
 already told you, our past is eternally travelling 
 through space with a velocity of 192,000 miles 
 per second (which is that of light), so that we 
 have only to go far enough from the earth in 
 order to see it all over again. 
 
 " Some things also I can remember, for some 
 things there are which one can never forget : and 
 I can always refresh my memory by seeing over 
 again the particular scene I would like to pre- 
 serve before me." 
 
 Walter. " I wish you would relate to me some 
 of your previous lives. Was I ever connected with 
 you in the past ? Did I also live by your side in 
 those remote existences I have so completely 
 forgotten ?" 
 
 Conchita, " I will tell you all you will like to 
 learn. You know, my beloved Walter, that my 
 greatest happiness is to be by your side, but to- 
 night our long conversation must end. I can 
 see the first rays of the rising sun as they gild 
 the towers of the Havana, and even the glorious 
 stars of the Southern Cross are beginning to fade 
 before the light of the coming day." 
 
 Walter. " Must you go ? Again another long.
 
 PART THE SECOND, a.q'j 
 
 long day to wait, before I can once more see you, 
 my darling ! Oh, cruel, cruel day, which robs me 
 of my happiness ! " 
 
 Conchita. "Is it not enough that you have me 
 with you during the night ? Think to how many 
 such comfort is denied. But I suppose the more 
 men have, the more they desire. You can never 
 be contented in this little world of yours, which 
 is so dear to me still, in spite of all its miseries 
 and imperfections. 
 
 " To-morrow, when the silver rays of the moon 
 shall once more be reflected upon the phospho- 
 rescent waters of the bay before us, I will again 
 be with you. I will then tell you of my past — 
 how, from being the most wicked of sinners, I 
 have become an angel of the spheres ; how, out 
 of the most violent of hatreds has gradually grown 
 up the most unselfish love ! And how we 
 have progressed, by slow but marked degrees, 
 from a half savage state, to our present station, 
 passing from darkness into light, and making our 
 way slowly but surely through ilie ages ! "
 
 ]sriGHT THE THIED. 
 
 ** Transitory things are perishable ; in this world there is no 
 permanence." — Sakya Muni.
 
 NIGHT THE THIRD. 
 
 I. 
 
 " In the first watch of the night the Lord (Buddha) entered 
 into that state of meditation which gave him the power of 
 remembering his former existences to a number beyond count. 
 He remembered the time, and place, and nature of each existence ; 
 his form, his colour, his good and evil fortune, and the condition 
 to which he transmigrated on death. All this the Lord saw 
 clearly as if it had been a world illumined by a thousand suns of 
 exceeding brightness, and he saw that each condition was an 
 effect of that which preceded it, and the cause of that which 
 followed it." — Alabaster's Life of BuckUia from the Siamese. 
 
 Conchita. " The earth you inhabit is, as you 
 know, but a small material planet which revolves 
 round one of the smallest stars of the mighty 
 Milky Way. 
 
 AIJ the millions of bright stars which sparkle in 
 the blue firmament over your head are suns, round 
 which revolve systems of worlds similar to yours. 
 Immeasurable distances separate those solar systems 
 from one another, distances for which the human 
 intellect has invented no numbers. Thought may 
 conceive, but cannot express the vast amount of 
 these systems which exist in the universe, any 
 more than it can calculate the distances which 
 separate them from yours.
 
 412 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 If you were transported for years, ages, 
 myriads of ages, through the far off realms of this 
 endless ocean, space, and yet more space, worlds, 
 and yet more worlds, for ever and for ever, would 
 meet your bewildered sight ; if you were able to 
 travel — I will not say with the velocity of an ex- 
 press train, which is at most, only that of sixty 
 miles an hour — but with that of light which is of 
 12,000,000 miles a minute, and if you could 
 travel for years at this almost inconceivable pace, 
 heaven would succeed to heaven before you, 
 sphere to sphere, one immensity to another 
 immensity, and then — after having travelled 
 without ceasing during endless ages, with this 
 astounding rapidity which almost beggars the 
 lightning's flash — were your flight to be eternal, 
 passing the limits of human imagination to con- 
 ceive, even then, the infinity of space would still 
 remain unexplored before you, undiminished by 
 the incalculable distances you would have already 
 travelled in the eternity of your flight's duration ; 
 for the infinitude of space would succeed to the 
 infinity of time, without any limitation ; and then 
 your soul, overcome with immensity, finding 
 itself only on the threshold of infinite creation, 
 would sink down, overpowered, before having yet 
 taken a single step in space ! 
 
 Such is the immensity of space ! such the 
 numbers of worlds which constitute it ! Only He 
 who has created them, and who holds them each
 
 PART THE SECOND. 413 
 
 in its appointed place, can measure their distances, 
 or count their myriad lights. And yet, this 
 immense extension of space (which, even if you 
 travelled with the rapidity of light at the rate of 
 12,000,000 miles every minute, you could not 
 traverse in an eternity of continued journeyings), 
 does not exist for me, and I can transport myself 
 in a single moment, from one bright constellation 
 to another with the rapidity of thought; for my 
 spirit is free from the bonds of any earthly laws, 
 and like thought, can wing its flight in less than 
 a second to any part of the universe it desires to 
 explore. Space does not exist for me. Neither 
 does time exist for my freed spirit ; I am inde- 
 pendent of all material things, and the laws which 
 rule matter are quite foreign to my sphere. 
 
 You must not therefore be surprised if I tell 
 you that I can transport myself with the rapidity 
 of thought to any of those distant stars which 
 sparkle like islands of light on the dark 
 atmospheric sea above your head. 
 
 Shortly after my death on earth, — I could not 
 tell you whether it was day or night, for in the 
 new life to which I was then born, the sequences 
 of time are as unknown as those of space, and do 
 not really exist, — I felt myself borne upwards 
 towards the glorious stars which shine in your 
 southern hemisphere. 
 
 I travelled, as I have told you, with the 
 rapidity of thought, which no earthly numbers
 
 414 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 can express. I passed close by those bright suns 
 which are the delight of the astronomers of 
 earth. I saw the constellation, in which shines 
 Procion in all its greatness, Taurus, with its 
 mighty Aldebaran for an eye, and glorious Sirius, 
 the most beautiful of all stars. But I was borne 
 further still, until I entered the constellation of 
 Orion, which men so gaze at and admire during the 
 long and beautiful nights of their earthly winter. 
 
 Orion is perhaps, indeed, the most admired of all 
 constellations. If you direct your eyes on a winter's 
 night towards the south of the Zodiac, a little 
 below the ' Bull ' — (Taurus), and the inseparable 
 * Brothers ' — (Gemini), you will at once notice 
 this giant, who raises in his powerful hand a mace 
 directed towards the forehead of the wild ' Bull ' 
 above him. 
 
 Seven beautiful stars will first strike you as 
 you gaze upon him. Two of these are of 
 the first magnitude ; the other five are of the 
 second, and mark the shoulders and the 
 right knee, and form the belt around his 
 waist. Under the line traced by these stars a 
 luminous ray of smaller ones very close to- 
 gether form the sword. Between the one which 
 marks his other shoulder and the neighbouring 
 constellation of the ' Bull,' you will see a number 
 of little stars, which together form a curved line ; 
 these are the shield which he raises against the 
 horns of the wild animal whose powerful eye
 
 PART THE SECOND. 415 
 
 (Aldebaran) shines just above it, amidst the thou- 
 sand lights of the nebula of the ' Crab.' The head 
 of the giant is formed by rather an insignificant 
 star of the fourth magnitude, which is scarcely 
 visible to the naked eye ; and the other two are 
 the raised arm in which he holds the mace or club. 
 
 But the most beautiful of all the stars of this 
 constellation is /3, which forms the left foot of the 
 giant, and which is sometimes called Rigel. 
 
 This enormous sun is the sixth star of that 
 part of the heavens visible from this earth, 
 and is undoubtedly infinitely larger than your 
 sun. 
 
 Near it there is a little star, half-forgotten by 
 the astronomers of earth, which forms the end 
 of the sword, not far from Betelgense, and from 
 that beautiful little nebula which so resembles the 
 head of a whale. This little star is so distant from 
 your earth, that light, which as you know travels 
 12,000,000 miles a minute, takes about 2470 
 years to traverse the space which divides them. 
 
 And yet, in spite of this enormous distance, 
 I reached it with the velocity of thought ! Such 
 is the power of locomotion of our freed souls ! 
 I could not tell you what attracted me first to- 
 wards that little star, but I no sooner directed 
 my eyes towards it than I seemed to find myself 
 upon its surface. 
 
 From it, as you may imagine, the earth is 
 invisible, lost in the golden rays of the sun ; but
 
 4i6 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 our spiritual power of vision is unlimited, so that 
 from that little star 1 could distinctly see all that 
 was going on upon the earth, not at that moment, 
 but 2470 years before — for, as I have already 
 told you, the luminous rays of your planet take 
 all that time to reach the small stars of the constella- 
 tion of Orion, from which I was now observing it. 
 
 From this little star I saw one of my former 
 existences which took place just 2470 years ago, 
 for I was precisely in time to catch the luminous 
 rays which carried its photograph into eternal 
 space as they passed me. 
 
 I had had many lives before that one, which 
 I have subsequently seen over again, and which, 
 now that I am free from all material limitations, 
 I can well remember when I care to do so ; but I 
 shall begin with this particular life, because it 
 was the one in which I first met you ; and because 
 from it I may date the gradual progress of our 
 souls which have been brought so much together 
 in all subsequent existences. I will therefore 
 begin to tell you what we did, and what we were 
 in the year 600 before the coming of our Lord. 
 Perhaps you will be able vaguely to recall some 
 of the incidents as I relate them to you, but I 
 doubt it, for your material organs are not adapted 
 to exercise such a prodigious power of recollec- 
 tion. You must not be shocked, my dearest 
 husband, if some of the incidents of that remote 
 existence are opposed to your present standard of
 
 PART THE SECOND. 41/ 
 
 good and evH ; for you must remember that in 
 those days we were but young in the scale of 
 beings, mere children of the human race, and 
 that'^our spirits were both ignorant and unde- 
 veloped. 
 
 1. 2d
 
 II. 
 
 " Between the porphyry pillars, that uphold 
 The rich moresque-work of the roof of gold, 
 Aloft the harem's curtained galleries rise, 
 Where, through the silken network, glancing eyes, 
 From time to time, like sudden gleams that glow 
 Through autumn clouds, shine o'er the pomp below. 
 "What impious tongue, ye blushing saints, would dare 
 To hint that aught but Heaven hath placed you there." 
 
 T. Moore. 
 
 In the year 645 B.C., I was born in the little 
 kingdom of Dewadaha, in Central India, not far 
 from the holy city of Benares, which reflects its 
 many towers upon the sacred waters of the 
 Gano^es. 
 
 The Nepaul mountains, that southern chain 
 of the lofty Himalayas, divide this little kingdom 
 from that of Kapila, the rajah, or petty king of 
 which, was kindred to our sovereign, King An- 
 kana, of celebrated memory. 
 
 Within this chain of natural outworks, with 
 many a lofty spire and minaret glowing under the 
 burning sun of India, lay the little city of Dewa- 
 daha, like some eastern houri, enveloped in rude 
 yet magnificent attire, but whose dazzling charms 
 and attractions — truly Asiatic — rivet the eye and 
 fill the soul of the weary traveller as he approaches
 
 PART THE SECOND. 419 
 
 from the mountains. The suburbs first struck 
 the beholder, with their many Brahminical con- 
 vents and temples, surrounded by umbrageous 
 courts and galleries, a sylvan scene, of garden, 
 grove, and forest, wildly intermingled with stone 
 columns, and marble statues. The cistus, the 
 aloe, the fig-tree, the pomegranate, the mango- 
 tree, the vine, and the bamboo, rose all around 
 towards the pure blue sky. The airy minarets 
 of the temples, competing in grace and elegance 
 with the glorious palm, that sylph of vegeta- 
 tion. 
 
 Once inside the little town, the uneven streets 
 and the rude and primitive style of architecture 
 were very apparent ; the miserable huts which 
 served as dwelling-houses were closely piled up, 
 one beside the other ; but fretted domes, and 
 sacred temples, whose roofs shone with rich golden 
 arabesques under the rays of the mid-day sun, 
 rose in every direction. 
 
 About the centre of the town was the palace, a 
 large structure, composed of numerous buildings 
 united by courts and terraces. Immense gardens 
 adjoined it on the western side, which only 
 ended in the walls of the town, where their 
 many trees gave place to the fertile fields outside 
 those walls. Situated in these gardens was the 
 harem, that part of the palace inhabited by the 
 women, and upon which all the riches and arts of 
 the Hindus are lavished.
 
 420 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 In this sumptuous residence I was born some 
 2500 years ago. 
 
 My mother was a Persian, one of the slaves of 
 Queen Sunantha. As for my father, I never could 
 learn his name. Some hinted the king himself; 
 and so I loved to imagine in my wild dreams of 
 ambition ; but I could not be certain, for what- 
 ever might once have been the feelings of Ankana 
 towards my mother, the sad truth was, that at 
 the time of my birth> and ever afterwards, he 
 disclaimed all connection with the Persian 
 slave. 
 
 I was brought up in the harem, with the 
 children of the king, according to eastern custom, 
 and from my earliest youth I was made the slave 
 of the Princess Maia, his eldest daughter. 
 
 I cannot tell you how I hated this beauti- 
 ful princess. Her great beauty caused me daily 
 vexation ; and even her constant kindness and con- 
 sideration towards me, irritated me, and made my 
 hatred towards her all the more violent. 
 
 I have suffered so much for this unworthy 
 passion, Walter, that now I no longer blush to 
 avow it. It all seems a dream, now that I have 
 so completely out-grown that imperfect and rudi- 
 mentary existence ; and I feel pretty much like 
 the man who, in his mature age, remembers the 
 peccadillos he committed at school with almost a 
 feeling of indifference, although they caused him 
 so many bitter tears at the time.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 421 
 
 I hated the princess and all the other women 
 of the harem, they were all so much more beau- 
 tiful and accomplished than I was I And yet 
 they treated me like their equal. I took part in 
 all their amusements, and my fare was in no way 
 inferior to that of the kinor's dauo^hters : but I 
 could not forget that I was but their slave, born 
 to serve and flatter them, and that my place was 
 at their feet rather than by their side. 
 
 I was wicked and ignorant in those days, and 
 yet I lacked not a certain sense of what was good 
 and virtuous. I was cunning and artful, and 
 from my earliest youth I learned to dissimulate, 
 and to hide my true feelings. I kept my intense 
 hatred to myself, and only showed a smiling face 
 to the amiable princess, who was so innocently 
 the cause of all my jealousy. In this way I 
 managed to get into her favour, for she, like all 
 the rest, believed me to be good and true. So 
 little were the ways of the world known in the 
 little palace of Dewadaha ! 
 
 The two sisters, ]\Iaia and Pachapati, were as 
 difi'erent in outward appearance as in character. 
 Maia, the eldest, was fair and sweet to behold, 
 and her face portrayed her mind, which was lofty 
 and virtuous : she was the favourite of the kinor, 
 her father, whom she loved with all the streng^th 
 of her true and loving heart. Pachapati was 
 also very handsome, taller than her sister, and 
 of a darker complexion ; she was the wiser of the
 
 422 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 two, and the inseparable companion of her mother, 
 the first wife of Ankana, and consequently the 
 reigning queen. 
 
 One beautiful afternoon in spring, I was 
 walking with the princesses through the shady- 
 avenues of those splendid gardens. I was but a 
 girl, scarcely yet fourteen, but as the slave 
 of Maia I was allowed to follow her in all her 
 rambles through the immense gardens adjoining 
 the harem. I was but a mere girl, as I have told 
 you, and yet nearly all the worst passions of a 
 grown-up woman were already developed in my 
 bosom, and in spite of my early age I was a con- 
 summate hypocrite, and could hide my bitter 
 feelings in the depths of my heart, and cover 
 them with winning smiles. 
 
 We were walking through the stately avenue, 
 and, as girls have done since the beginning of the 
 world, we were discussing our future prospects. 
 Maia, who was three years older than I, and 
 therefore the eldest of the three, was telling her 
 sister the incidents of her recent interview with 
 the eight Brahmins sent by Singhanu, the neigh- 
 bouring king of Kapila, to ask her hand for his 
 son, the prince Suddhodana. 
 
 ** I was walking in the garden, my sister," she 
 said, " when suddenly the branches of the trees 
 before me opened, as if impelled by some unseen 
 Yaklias, and the venerable messengers of the king 
 of Kapila stood before me."
 
 PART THE SECOND. 423 
 
 " You must have been surprised, Maia/' inter- 
 posed the Princess Pachapati. 
 
 " That I was, my sister, and at first I took 
 them to be messeno;ers from heaven rather than 
 Brahmins. They said that they had been sent 
 forth by the king of Kapila, their lord, to seek a 
 princess having the sixty -four signs of perfection, 
 who would become the wife of their prince. They 
 added that they had indeed found some few en- 
 dowed with eighteen signs, but none with sixty- 
 four. 
 
 " Their king, they told me, had some time ago 
 a marvellous dream. Singhanu was calmly sleep- 
 ing on his royal couch, when a palace covered 
 with jewels sprung up before him ; its base rested 
 on the world of men, its roof reached to the 
 Brahma heavens, and it embraced all the ten 
 thousand worlds within its gorgeous walls. Its 
 first story was in the lowest angelic world, its 
 second in the next hio-her ano^elic world : in each 
 of the six Dewa heavens was one story, and its 
 stories extended throughout the sixteen heavens 
 of the great Brahmas, and the heavens of the 
 formless. Its dazzling radiance shone throughout 
 aU worlds, and in its midst there was a jewelled 
 throne, two hundred and fifty miles in height and 
 fifty miles in width; and on it sat a mighty lion- 
 like man, beside a beautiful lady. Then there 
 arose a great cloud, and rain fell in gentle showers 
 over the whole world. Then all created beings
 
 424 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 fell before the feet of the mighty man, and he 
 made them learn the rules of virtue, and bestowed 
 exceeding happiness upon them. And on the 
 east of the palace there was a vast lake, so wide 
 that none could see the other side ; and the mighty 
 man made a ship, so that all who desired might 
 be able to cross it.* 
 
 "The next morning the king called us in to 
 interpret this curious dream. We consulted 
 together and discovered that it meant that his 
 messengers would be successful ; that we should 
 find a princess possessing the necessary sixty-four 
 signs of perfection, who would marry his son, and 
 that her child w^ould be a Buddha. 
 
 " Then the eight men fell on their knees before 
 me, and said, ' Thou, oh Maia, art the chosen 
 bride ; thou wilt be the mother of a great 
 Buddha, if thou wilt marry Prince Suddhodana.' " 
 
 " And what did you answer, my princess ? " I 
 asked her. 
 
 "What could I answer, Ananda? I told 
 them that this was no matter for my ears. I 
 bade them tell my father, and ask his consent. 
 What more could I say ? " 
 
 " Ah ! yours is a glorious fate, Maia. You 
 will be a queen, even as our mother ; and Prince 
 Suddhodana is a handsome youth of your own 
 age, — ^how happy you will be." 
 
 " And I shall be the mother of a Buddha, like 
 
 * This dream is taken from H. Alabaster's life of Buddha.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 425 
 
 Wipassi. Only tliink of that ! " As slie pro- 
 nounced those last words her face beamed with 
 delight, and the beautiful princess fell on her 
 knees, and lifting her bright blue eyes towards 
 the sky above, she cried, " Lord Brahm, who 
 excellest in the three worlds, God of angels and 
 men, let me be the mother of a Buddha, like thy 
 messenger Wipassi ! " 
 
 She looked so beautiful in that position, and 
 her words were so full of faith, that it made my 
 heart quite sore to behold her ; and I exclaimed to 
 myself, "No, thou shalt not, hateful Maia. No, 
 thou shalt neither be queen of Kapila, nor the 
 mother of a Buddha, as I live! For my whole life 
 shall be spent in baffling thee, and in rendering 
 thy existence unhappy. We shall see who will 
 be the most powerful. The daughter of the 
 powerful king, or the despised slave girl ! "
 
 III. 
 
 "El hombre propone, Dios dispone." — Spanish Proverh. 
 
 But what could I do ? 1 was, as 1 had said, but 
 a poor slave girl, a little viper too feeble as yet to 
 bite the generous hand which nursed it. 
 
 The ambassador from Kapila made a formal 
 proposal for the Princess, from Prince Suddhodana, 
 which was accepted by the king, her father. 
 
 Shortly afterwards the marriage took place, 
 for which great preparations were made, and 
 which was solemnised in the great temple. 
 
 It was arranged that the whole of Maia's house- 
 hold should accompany her to her new capital 
 to form there an harem worthy of the wife of 
 so mighty a prince. Her sister the Princess 
 Pachapati and forty other ladies, besides her 
 numerous slaves, accompanied her therefore to 
 Kapila, where a beautiful palace had been pre- 
 pared for her by the Sakya princes. Since that 
 day my home was in the city of Kapila, and in 
 the harem of its queen. 
 
 My jealousy and hatred, as you may imagine, 
 was not diminished by this success of my rival. 
 Her marriage with the prince of Kapila only served 
 to increase my anger and thii'st for vengeance.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 427 
 
 I saw her now the mistress of a splendid harem, 
 the wife of a great prince, beloved by all, and 
 held even by the Brahmins as a model of all 
 virtuous and praiseworthy acts, whilst I was 
 still a slave girl unnoticed, and despised. But 
 my hatred made me feel superior to all around 
 me. I longed for power, and for revenge, and 
 whilst before Maia I bowed smiling at her feet, 
 behind her back I used all my arts and machina- 
 tions to degrade her in the eyes of the prince, 
 her husband, who, as I soon observed, was not 
 quite unconscious of the few charms I then 
 possessed. 
 
 And now, my beloved Walter, you first began to 
 form part of my spirit's history, for the connection 
 of our two uneducated and undeveloped spirits 
 commenced at this period ; my spirit's history is 
 therefore henceforward that of your own. This 
 fact has come to my knowledge since I last left 
 you, endearing you to me more than you can 
 possibly imagine, for you only remember the 
 Conchita you have lately lost, whilst I can see 
 you ever by my side, destined to become a part 
 of myself, as you most truly have done through 
 the lonsf succession of trials and events that have 
 connected us by our successive earth-lives through 
 the ages, during which we have ever been side by 
 side, first as enemies, gradually as friends, after- 
 wards as lovers, latterly by the sacred bond of 
 holy union, that bond which unites us as one
 
 428 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 complete spirit for evermore. But at the time of 
 the history I am now relating, and which I saw 
 so distinctly from the little star in the constella- 
 tion of Orion, our spirits had not yet been dra^vn 
 together ; there were many antagonistic elements 
 in their individual characteristics, and I must 
 first introduce you in my spirit's history as an 
 enemy rather than as a friend. 
 
 You were then, one of the servants of the King 
 of Kapila, by name Channa ; you will therefore 
 know that when I speak of him, it is the history 
 of your own spirit that I am relating. 
 
 I first saw you in the harem of Maia, where 
 you used to come sometimes with your master, 
 Prince Suddhodana, of whom you were the con- 
 stant attendant. Indeed, you and the prince 
 were the only men who had free admittance into 
 the women's quarters of the palace. 
 
 From the first moment I saw this Channa, an 
 idea suggested itself to my mind, and soon took 
 entire possession of my imagination, becoming 
 my constant dream. Yes, I would induce this 
 youth to speak to the prince on my behalf. I 
 would win him to my side, and make him the 
 tool by whose means I could arrive to Suddho- 
 dana's favour, and in time supplant my beautiful 
 rival. 
 
 For did I not belong to his harem, and con- 
 sequently was I not also his wife in a certain 
 way? It is true that I did not belong to the
 
 PART THE SECOND. 429 
 
 royal caste, as my mistress, nor could I boast like 
 her of sixty-four signs of perfection, but love 
 knows no obstacles, and the heir of Kapila's 
 throne was all-powerful. If I could once obtain 
 his favour, I then thought, it will not be my 
 fault if I do not share his golden throne. 
 
 You must not imagine, my Walter, for one 
 moment, that I entertained any feeling of love 
 towards this prince. In those days my spirit 
 was yet too rude and undeveloped to nourish 
 any such tender passion. 
 
 It was revenge and ambition alone that 
 prompted me, and I was too ignorant to know 
 that my hatred was wicked, and that all my 
 passions that I then thought so grand, were those 
 of sin. 
 
 One night you had come to the harem with 
 the prince, who was in Maia's apartments. I was 
 on duty that night ; it was late, and aU the other 
 women had retired to their couches, so that I 
 found myself alone with you in the long gaUery 
 adjoining the princess's rooms. 
 
 "Channa must surely feel tired and weary,'' 
 I said, as I stepped out into the paradise outside 
 the gaUery, "the niojht is close, and I think a 
 walk in the open air might perhaps revive the 
 faithful servant while he waits for his master." 
 
 " There's nothing I should so enjoy, my beau- 
 tiful Ananda ; but I fear the prince will be coming 
 out, and surely he would miss his trusted slave."
 
 430 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 " Oh, no fear of that ; Suddhodana is sure 
 to remain yet several hours by the side of the 
 princess." 
 
 This assertion soon convinced Channa, for he 
 at last consented to step with me into the beauti- 
 ful garden below, in the delicious shades of which 
 we were soon lost. 
 
 He was quite a youth, two or three years 
 younger than I, and in any other country he 
 might still have been considered a mere boy; so that 
 I did not anticipate much opposition to my plans 
 on his part. I therefore entered into the subject 
 at once, and one after another I displayed before 
 him all my plans of future greatness and power. 
 I offered him untold wealth ; although I did not 
 possess a single silver piece of my own ! The 
 first post in the palace ! I unfolded before his 
 eyes golden visions of glory and fame, and pro- 
 mised him beforehand all he should ever ask 
 me, if he would only speak for me to the 
 prince, and arrange in some way or other that 
 we might meet sometimes in secret, in order 
 that Maia might not suspect anything, and 
 baffle my plans before they had obtained a sure 
 footing. 
 
 When I had done speaking, I took his hand 
 in mine, and with a trembling heart and re- 
 strained breath, I awaited his reply, upon which 
 all my future depended. 
 
 He looked at me for a minute in silence, and
 
 PART THE SECOND. 431 
 
 then taking hold of my arm with both his hands, 
 he exclaimed, 
 
 "Wretch, you would supplant the noble Maia in 
 the heart of our prince ; you vile slave girl, little 
 viper, whom she has nursed in her bosom, and 
 who now wants to sting the very hand which 
 gave you protection. And you ask me to help you 
 in your vile plans ! Ah, but you are mistaken ! 
 For, instead of aiding you, I will disclose the 
 whole to Suddhodana, he will chastise you as you 
 deserve for your unheard-of ambition. Do you 
 think I would betray my master ? Learn, 
 wretched slave, to fear me henceforward ; for I 
 know your plans, and can baffle them. My 
 master's enemies are also mine, and I can crush 
 them as I crush thee now." 
 
 Saying which he took me in his arms and, 
 with a strength of which I would never have 
 thought him capable, he threw me on the ground 
 where I fell heavily, and remained for some time 
 insensible.
 
 IV. 
 
 '' I'll seek for other aid. Spirits they say, 
 Flit round invisible, as thick as motes 
 Dance in the sunbeam. If that spell, 
 Or necromancer's vigil can compel them, 
 They shall hold council with me." 
 
 James Duff. 
 
 Ever after that memorable night my life was 
 one of constant fear. I trembled lest Channa, 
 faithful to the prince, should discover to him the 
 plans I had so rashly confided to his ear. 
 
 But the days passed, and I could notice no 
 change in the manner of Suddhodana towards 
 me ; it was evident that, for some reason or 
 other, the young slave had not betrayed me as 
 yet, perhaps it was because he wished to keep 
 me in his power. I could not tell. I feared to 
 meet the gaze of the prince, and yet all my hopes 
 were placed upon that gaze. 
 
 There lived in the city of Kapila, not far from 
 Maia's palace, a renowned necromancer, a vener- 
 able Brahmin and ascetic, who devoted his life to 
 the study of the stars, and who, according to 
 the popular belief, had the power of calling to 
 earth the spirits of the departed, and learning 
 from them the events of the future. To this
 
 PART THE SECOND. 433 
 
 man I resolved to go, to learn from his moutli what 
 I had to fear and what I might venture to hope. 
 
 One morning, when my mistress was yet re- 
 posing on her silken couch lost in sleep, I stole 
 out of the harem by a back door, the key of which 
 I managed to steal, and with a quick step, and 
 enveloped in a dark mantle, I soon arrived at the 
 door of Alkaska's cell. 
 
 The Brahmin himself opened the door, and 
 after learning the object of my visit, he conducted 
 me into an inner room beyond the court-yard, 
 where he motioned me to sit upon the only couch 
 which occupied its whole extent. 
 
 " Am I in the house of Alkaska ? " 
 
 The Brahmin bowed in silence. 
 
 *' The venerable ascetic, the wise prophet who 
 can reveal the secrets of the future ? " 
 
 " Say rather the humble admirer of nature, 
 the mere machine throuorh which the orreat Brahma 
 condescends to speak." 
 
 *' And will Brahma reveal to his poor slave 
 the secrets of her future V 
 
 ** Yes ; if the curious inquirer who desires 
 that knowledge will make to the supreme God 
 a sacrifice worthy of his glory." 
 
 I understood what Alkaska meant by this ; 
 so, without saying another word, I took out from 
 under my mantle the little bag containing the 
 silver I had accumulated beforehand, and which 
 at the time constituted all I possessed. 
 
 1. 2 E
 
 434 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 The Bralimin looked at the poor ofiering with 
 a curious face, and I could see that a look of dis- 
 appointment passed over his features. 
 
 " Small is the offering," he said, " but what 
 Brahma prizes is not the amount of the sacrifice, 
 but the intention with which it is offered, and I 
 doubt not that he will send his angels to aid me 
 in my prophecies." 
 
 The old man then retired into the interior of 
 the cell, coming back after a few minutes with a 
 large round crystal like a ball, which he held with 
 the greatest reverence between his hands. 
 
 ^' I shall need some blood of the person whose 
 horoscope you would like me to make," he said, 
 cleaning the crystal carefully with his mantle. 
 After which he gave me a needle, with which I 
 pricked my arm ; a few drops of blood came out, 
 which he collected with the greatest care upon 
 the glass ball. 
 
 " Will your science, oh Alkaska, teach you 
 the name of the person to whom that blood 
 belongs ? " 
 
 He looked at it carefully, and then looking at 
 me straight in the face, he said, — 
 
 " Ananda, can you doubt of the power of a 
 Sramana ? " 
 
 I was certain he had never heard my name 
 before, so this began to give me a certain amount 
 of faith as to what he might prophesy. 
 
 He then spread the blood all over the crystal,
 
 PART THE SECOND. 435 
 
 and began to blow gently upon it. I watched 
 every movement of his with the greatest curiosity, 
 and I could hardly breathe, so intense was my 
 anxiety. 
 
 " What do you see ? " I asked at last. 
 
 He said nothing, but presented me with the 
 crystal. 
 
 I took it in my hands, and fixed all my atten- 
 tion upon it. I seemed to lose consciousness of 
 everything around me ; I could see nothing but 
 that piece of glass, here and there covered by 
 little red spots. Alkaska placed a little tripod 
 before me, from the fire in which proceeded a 
 bluish flame, and upon it he dropped some herbs 
 and seeds, which changed its colour into a vivid 
 scarlet. All my attention was, however, still 
 fixed upon the crystal. 
 
 A mist seemed now to form before me, and 
 through it I saw a figure radiant with glory, and 
 beautiful as the very skies. It was seated upon 
 a throne of gold and precious stones, and around 
 it were leoions of ano;els, holdino^ crowns of o^lorv. 
 In its arms it held a little child most beautiful to 
 behold, and in the dimpled foot which he held 
 towards me, I distinctly saw the mysterious 
 Phrabat, the sure mark of a Buddha ! 
 
 The picture which these two persons pre- 
 sented was not unlike those you have so often 
 seen of the \drgin and her divine son, only that 
 they hardly looked like human beings at all, so
 
 436 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 beautiful and ethereal were their forms, and so 
 radiant their countenances. 
 
 As I looked closely upon this vision, the mist 
 seemed gradually to disperse, and soon I was 
 able to recognise in this glorious mother, the 
 Princess Maia herself, my hated rival ! 
 
 But the folds of her dress now began to move, 
 and out of them, and as it seemed, from under her 
 feet crept a serpent. A long serpent, of a reddish 
 hue, which, gliding along behind the Princess, 
 arrived in time to the height of her face. All at 
 once it gave a spring, and darting forward its 
 sting, it bit her under the ear. 
 
 The Princess turned pale, and seemed to 
 droop, and expire ; but I could look no longer, 
 for in the red serpent, I had recognised my own 
 self, and this discovery made me drop the crystal, 
 which fell heavily upon the ground. 
 
 The noise it made as it fell upon the hard 
 stones brought me back to my senses, and I felt 
 as if I had awakened from a long and hideous 
 dream. 
 
 I stood up, and rubbing my eyes, I exclaimed 
 to myself, 
 
 "Yes, the despised serpent, which she would 
 fain keep under her feet, can sting yet ; I am not 
 as powerless as I thought ; this vision has given 
 me a new desire, a new hope of success ; the 
 poorest and the humblest can sometimes do as much 
 harm as the great and the mighty." And then
 
 PART THE SECOND. 437 
 
 turning to the Bralnnin, who stood in silence by 
 my side, I said, " To the great Alkaska, to whom 
 is given the knowledge of the future, is it not 
 also given to know the secret of life and death ? 
 Does not your science possess the secret of some 
 powerful potion by means of which life can be 
 extinguished ? " 
 
 The Ascetic smiled in approbation \ one would 
 have thought that he had almost expected my 
 words by the way in which he received them. 
 
 " My science is unbounded ; Brahma has no 
 secrets for me ; but the sale of such potions as 
 you demand, Ananda, is forbidden by our order ; 
 I dare not sell them." 
 
 " But surely, in the three kingdoms of nature, 
 mineral, vegetable, and animal, there must be 
 some poison concealed, whose use is not forbidden 
 by the strictest- Brahmin ; for Brahma himself, 
 prodigal in all, offers to men, both good and evil, 
 and consequently a sure way of ending their 
 miseries. I need the poison for myself. Am I 
 not mistress of my own life ? " 
 
 " Ah ! if you want it for yourself, that alters 
 the case, and perhaps I might furnish what you 
 desire." 
 
 " Ah ! I thought you would ! " I exclaimed, 
 breathing freely once more. " I thought you 
 
 would But I want a poison whose presence 
 
 cannot be traced upon the corpse after death. . . . 
 I would not like my friends to know that I had
 
 438 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 put an end to my own existence. You under- 
 stand ? " 
 
 " I know of a sure poison whose secret powers 
 I have discovered myself ; it is not a murderous 
 drug whose presence can be detected ; it is simply 
 a medicine which, instead of curing an illness, 
 augments and renders it worse ; it affects any 
 part of the body which is already predisposed, 
 and can be administered through any of the three 
 senses of touch, taste, or smell." 
 
 " Is the power of this wondrous potion equal 
 on all three ? " 
 
 "Yes, with some slight modifications. You 
 can either put a few drops in a glass of water, or 
 mix a portion with the oil of a lamp, or sprinkle 
 your clothes with it, so that some portion of it 
 will touch your skin, in all these cases death is 
 certain." 
 
 " And will it be the same for all 1 . . ." 
 
 " With equal proportion, yes ; its contact to the 
 lips for a single second will be equal to that 
 which in the hand would be prolonged for a 
 whole minute." 
 
 "By Crishna it must be a dangerous and a 
 terrible weapon this discovery of yours, holy 
 Alkaska ! " 
 
 " It inflicts death to all who come near it." 
 
 *' But surely your great science must also have 
 made you discover an antidote equal, if not 
 superior in power, to this glorious poison."
 
 PART THE SECOND. 439 
 
 " You are right, Ananda, by the seven Buddhas 
 you are right. This poison has its counterpoise, 
 like all others." 
 
 " And how do you apply it ? " 
 
 " In the same way as the poison, only that it 
 will require double the quantity." 
 
 " Would it be dangerous to use this precious 
 antidote too freely for an excess of precaution ? 
 
 " No, there is no harm in it whatever." 
 
 " Answer me one last question. Oh, holy master! 
 How long would a person live after touching an 
 object moistened beforehand with your potion ? " 
 
 " About a week, more or less." 
 
 *'And how much would you take for it and 
 its precious antidote ? " 
 
 " Sixty flowers of gold." 
 
 I shuddered as I heard this enormous price, 
 but it did not discourage me. 
 
 " You shall have it," I said; *'hold it ready for 
 this evening, and I will call again upon you." 
 
 I went back again as fast as I could to the 
 harem. The vision I had seen of Maia on a 
 throne of glory, surrounded by angels, and hold- 
 ing an infant Buddha in her arms, was constantly 
 before me, but I recollected the red serpent, and 
 new hopes filled my bosom. ' I must have the 
 money,' I thought, but how to get it ? I had 
 none left. An idea then struck me. I would 
 take one of the princess's jewels and sell it ; she
 
 440 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 would never miss it, she had so many ; and be- 
 sides, once dead, she would not need it any 
 longer. 
 
 I did so. I stole a ring of diamonds and 
 emeralds, which I was soon able to sell not far 
 from the palace, and in the evening I again en- 
 tered the cell of the Brahmin. 
 
 Alkaska was sitting in the porch of his house, 
 saying his evening prayers. I presented him the 
 sixty pieces of gold he had asked for, in exchange 
 for which he gave me two little bottles. The 
 one contained a red liquid, the other a white 
 transparent substance. ... It was the poison.
 
 V. 
 
 " Dire was his thought, who first in poison steep'd 
 The weapon form'd for slaughter ; direr his, 
 And worthier of damnation, who instill'd 
 The mortal venom in the social cup, 
 To fill the veins with death instead of life." 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 Some time afterwards the king, Singhanu, died, 
 and Prince Suddhodana succeeded him on the 
 throne. 
 
 Channa continued to be my greatest enemy, 
 although his interference perhaps did me more 
 good than any evil I might have dreaded from 
 him. As he had threatened to do, he revealed 
 the plans I had so foolishly confided to him, to 
 his master the king. But strange to say, either 
 Suddhodana did not believe him, or he was not 
 displeased with my desperate plans, perhaps attri- 
 buting them to an excess of love for himself on 
 my part. The truth was, that from the moment 
 he was made aware of them, the king began to 
 court my favour, and instead of experieucing any 
 harm from the disclosure of my machinations, I 
 derived more good from that disclosure than I 
 would have done had Channa been faithful to me, 
 and had they remained unknown to the king.
 
 442 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 Yet I was still in Channa's power. He might 
 expose me to the queen, and then I should 
 be lost for ever. I asked Suddhodana repeat- 
 edly to banish him, or to send him on some dis- 
 tant mission, so as to get rid of him ; but he was 
 determined to keep him, and my power was as 
 yet very slight, — the hold I had all at once taken 
 upon .the king being as unsteady as my position. 
 
 I could not tell you whether the husband of 
 Maia ever loved me. I tried all I could to win 
 his heart ; but there were so many women in the 
 palace, and almost all so much more beautiful 
 than I, that my chances were very limited. But 
 as I formed part of his harem, I too was in a cer- 
 tain way his wife ; and at the end of a year I 
 gave birth to a daughter, whom he condescended 
 to recognise, and to name Pastophora, which 
 means, literally, ' dweller in the temple of love.' 
 
 After the birth of this child Suddodhana 
 seemed to forget all about me, for I seldom saw 
 him, and when 1 did, it was always before other 
 people, when he showed the greatest indifference 
 towards me. All my hopes and plans of future 
 grandeur were now based upon my little Pasto- 
 phora. She was a beautiful child, the admiration 
 of all the harem, and I delighted in the thought 
 that perhaps the angelic face of the child would 
 win from her father what I had been unable to 
 obtain in the two years I had now spent in the 
 royal palace of Kapila.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 443 
 
 But new griefs were now in store for me. 
 The queen lierself was about to give birth to a 
 child, which event put an end to all my long- 
 cherished dreams. Maia's child would, of course, 
 succeed Suddhodana, and my Pastophora would 
 be forgotten. I determined to risk everything 
 rather than give up my thirst for vengeance, — or 
 rather, for power, — which had now become part 
 of my very being. Whatever happened, Maia's 
 child should never be born. 
 
 One night I was in attendance upon the 
 queen, who felt a little worse than usual, and was 
 lying half-asleep upon her silken couch. She 
 had dismissed all her other women, and I was for 
 once alone by the side of my rival. A dreadful 
 idea came into my head. Why should I not at 
 once put an end to all my fears and miseries ? I 
 had her in my power. No one would ever sus- 
 pect me. I had no fear of a Divine Provi- 
 dence, or of a just and all-seeing God, who would 
 detain my arm ; and as for conscience, I had none 
 in those remote days ; for, my dear Walter, I was 
 little better than a wild beast, and my heart was 
 a stranger to all the higher feelings of humanity, 
 which I have only acquired through much suffer- 
 ing and expiation. 
 
 I stole as noiselessly as I could out of the 
 royal chamber, and hurried to my room ; once 
 there, with a trembling hand, and a yet more 
 trembling heart, for in spite of my great ignor-
 
 444 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 ance and violent passions, I already felt a vague 
 sense that what I was doing was wrong. I 
 opened the closet where I had hidden the potions 
 prepared bj Alkaska, and out of it I took a little 
 silver box of filigree work. Before opening it, 
 however, I took care to prepare a pair of 
 gloves made from the skin of a lion. I then 
 proceeded to open the little box without any 
 fear, and out of it I extracted the two bottles. 
 I took the one which contained the red liquid, 
 which was the preservative, and with it I 
 painted the inside of my gloves. Then I 
 opened the other bottle, and with a little brush, 
 which I also took out of the silver casket, I 
 painted them on the outside with the white 
 liquid. This operation finished, I threw the 
 empty box and bottles out of the window, and 
 I was not satisfied until I heard them fall into 
 the river below. 
 
 I returned once more to my mistress's room 
 and waited in silence by her .side, the moment 
 when she should awake, which she did soon 
 afterwards. 
 
 " I have had such a dream," quoth she, after 
 a time, " I have seen my child, my beautiful 
 boy, Ananda, for he is a boy and so beautiful ! 
 Ah ! as beautiful as Crishna himself. He will 
 be a great man — the greatest that ever lived — 
 for Hamadeva, the goddess of love, held him in 
 her arms, and of his own free will he descended
 
 PART THE SECOND. 445 
 
 from Nirvana as a ray of light into my womb. 
 All created things testify of him, and he will be 
 a Buddha, for I have seen in my dream all the 
 five portents which invariably precede the birth 
 of a Buddha. 
 
 " I have seen the Kamawachara angels in their 
 purple mantles traverse the abodes of men, crying, 
 ' Attend all ye who are upon the earth ; repent 
 and be not insolent, for the Lord of the universe 
 will be born upon the earth.' 
 
 *' Then I saw heaven open, and crowds of 
 angels and demons, and beyond the ten thousand 
 systems of worlds, each with its four guardians 
 and one hundred genii ; and out of their midst 
 came the three formless ones, Brahma, Vishnu, 
 and Siva, and afterwards Brahm himself, the 
 almighty, who said, ' Be not intent on that 
 which is around you, for the Lord, the jewel, 
 Buddha, is coming unto you, and will teach you 
 his glorious secrets.' 
 
 " And as I was seeing all these marvels, behold 
 the flowers in my hand withered. My splendid 
 robes appeared discoloured and soiled, . sweat 
 streamed from the pores of my body, my skin 
 became dark and discoloured; I could not rest 
 at ease on my couch, and I awoke. 
 
 "This you see, my faithful Ananda, are the 
 five sure signs that my child will be a Buddha, 
 and I shall be the happiest of queens." 
 
 Saying which she lifted her hands towards
 
 446 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 heaven, as if in gratitude for the dream she had 
 had, and in this position she looked even more 
 beautiful than I had ever seen her before. Her 
 clear blue eyes had the appearance of the blue 
 sky of a summer evening, and her golden locks 
 hanging loosely over her shoulders, looked like an 
 aureola of glory around her fair head. 
 
 I could hardly retain the violent pulsations of 
 my heart as I beheld her ; but why should I 
 suffer any longer the misery of her hated 
 presence, when I had her life in my hands at 
 that moment ? 
 
 I stretched forth my arms and pressed her 
 against my breast, how I wished I could have 
 stranerled her at that moment ! But no sooner 
 had my hands touched her than a cold shiver ran 
 through her whole frame. 
 
 " Why those gloves, Ananda ? they hurt." 
 
 I was too excited to say anything. I took 
 them off in silence and threw them out of the 
 window, as I had done the bottles and the 
 casket. My work was finished now, and all I 
 had to do was to wait patiently the efiect of my 
 embrace. 
 
 I passed seven days in the greatest anxiety. 
 What would be the end of it all ? But I had 
 calculated badly. Maia died at the end of the 
 week, as the wise Brahmin had predicted ; but, 
 before dying, she gave birth to a child, a little 
 boy, who was named Gotama after the title of
 
 PART THE SECOND. 447 
 
 his father, but whom I shall in future designate 
 by the name of Sakya Muni, a name which he 
 has made so famous throughout the world, and 
 by which he is most generally kno^m.* 
 
 I was in the greatest despair. My crime had 
 proved useless after all ! 
 
 * For the true life of Buddha read — Le Bouddha et sa reli- 
 gion, by Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire ; Voyage au Tibet, L'abbe 
 Hue ; Die Religion des Buddha, von Koppen ; The Sankhya 
 Aphorisms of Kapila, translated by J. R. Ballantyne ; Essays on 
 the History of Religions, by Max Miiller ; Wilson's Essays ; The 
 Religion of the Hindus, by the discount de Lanjuinais ; The 
 Wheel of the Law, by Henry Alabaster ; Legend of the Burmese 
 Buddha, by Bigandet ; Etudes Orientales, by Franck ; Christ and 
 other Masters, by Hard wick ; Indische Studien, by Weber ; The 
 Life and Teachings of Sakya, by Dr Perfitt, published in the 
 Pathfinder^ Vol. V. ; Legends of Buddha in Hardy's ^fanual ; 
 Hand-book for the Student of Chinese Buddhism, by Ernest T. 
 Eitel ; Three Lectures of Buddhism, delivered at Union Church, 
 Hongkong, by Ernest Eitel ; Chips from a German Workshop, 
 by Max Muller ; Buddhagosha's Parables, by Captain F. Rogers ; 
 The Dammaphada, translated by Max Miiller ; A Catena of Bud- 
 dhist Scriptures from the Chinese, by S. Beal ; Malcolm's Travels 
 in Hindustan ; Prinsep's Thibet, Tartary, and Mongolia ; The 
 Chinese Empire, by the Abbe Hue ; Cosma Korosi, Life of Sakya ; 
 Asiatic Researches, vol. xx. ; L^pham's Sacred Books, vol. iii. ; 
 Prinsep's Bengal Asiatic Journal ; Cosma Korosi, Bengal Re- 
 searches, &c. ; the greater part of which works are published by 
 TrUbner and Co., London.
 
 VI. 
 
 " To be or not to be, that is the question." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Fifteen ypars had passed since the death of 
 Maia and the birth of her son Sakya. During 
 those fifteen years I had remained in the harem of 
 the king at Kapila, where no one ever suspected 
 the part I had taken in the queen's sudden death. 
 The Princess Pachapati, her sister, had taken her 
 place, and was now the queen of Suddhodana, by 
 whom she had two children — a son, Nanda, and 
 a daughter, Ganapada. 
 
 This virtuous princess took upon herself the 
 education of her stepson and nephew, whom she 
 kept constantly by her side. 
 
 I, too, devoted myself entirely to the educa- 
 tion of my daughter, Pastophora, who was now a 
 beautiful young woman, and on whom were con- 
 centrated all my thoughts and aspirations. All 
 the tenderest feelings of my fierce and wild nature 
 were devoted to her. I loved her as a lioness 
 loves her cubs, which in that preparatory state of 
 existence was as much as I could love any human 
 being, and I would gladly have sacrificed my own 
 life for hers. But then, it is true, my love was
 
 PART THE SECOND. 449 
 
 rather interested and selfish, for in that child were 
 centred all my hopes of future power, not that her 
 father exhibited any great love towards her, but 
 she was always his child, and I was her mother. 
 
 Channa had been sent on a mission to Benares, 
 and for the last few years he had not troubled me 
 much ; but he was always my enemy, and I had 
 reasons for suspecting that he at least was not 
 quite unacquainted with the secret of Maia's 
 death, for the day after that catastrophe he had 
 found under her window the poisoned gloves, 
 which in my confusion I had thrown into the 
 paradise below. 
 
 All my thoughts had been running of late upon 
 how to ruin if possible the young prince who in 
 spite of all my machinations, had made his way 
 into the world. I dared not use as^ainst him the 
 same means I had employed to rid myself of his 
 mother ; poisoning was too dangerous a thing to 
 be practised frequently, particularly in the little 
 harem of Kapila, where every act of one's life was 
 known. I might be found out, and then all my 
 grand ideas of powder would have found an un- 
 timely end in one of the darkest dungeons under 
 the palace, or in death itself ; for Sakya was the 
 general pet, and the king, I was sure, would never 
 have forgiven any act of violence against the life 
 of his eldest and favourite son. 
 
 This was the only reason that prevented me 
 from murdering the son as I had murdered the 
 
 I. 2 F
 
 450 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 mother, as for remorse I felt none, so low was as 
 yet my standard of good and evil. 
 
 As I would not, or rather dared not, take 
 away his life, I determined to deprive him of his 
 happiness by injuring his moral character and his 
 physical strength. For this end I prevailed upon 
 his father, in spite of his early age, to give him 
 an harem as befitted his station and future 
 prospects. I also tried to court him as much as 
 I could, in order to win his favour by means of 
 flattery — a resort which has been used by men to 
 ruin their enemies from the beginning of the 
 world. 
 
 But the mind of the young prince was far 
 above all worldly weaknesses, and after a few 
 attempts of this kind, I came to the conclusion 
 that Sakya was not an ordinary man. To give 
 you a proof of this, my dearest husband, I will 
 repeat to you what he one day said to me,- — 
 
 I was walking in the shady gardens adjoin- 
 ing the harem when I met him ; no sooner did I 
 see him than I fell on my knees before him, as 
 was the etiquette, exclaiming, "Happy the parents 
 of the Prince Sakya, for he will keep all sorrow 
 from them ! Happy the wife of the Prince Sakya, 
 for he will make her heart glad, and keep all 
 sorrow from her ! " But what was my surprise 
 when, instead of greeting me, he went on his 
 way muttering to himself, — " How shall I ex- 
 tinguish the sorrows of my parents and of my
 
 PART THE SECOND. 451 
 
 wife ? What are the means by which sorrow can 
 be destroyed ? If I could destroy concupiscence, 
 or pleasure in love, anger, or the desire to injure 
 others, and the folly which causes men to err — 
 if I could destroy the sources of evil, such as arro- 
 gance and falsehood, then I might be called the 
 extinguisher of the misery of my parents and of 
 all living beings. For this end must I now seek 
 the way to Nirwana, that evil and misery may 
 be destroyed. I must relinquish this royal pomp, 
 and devote myself to religion." * 
 
 An harem with the most lovely and fasci- 
 nating girls that could be found in all Asia, sur- 
 rounded him. These strove by dancing, music, 
 and songs, to attract his thoughts to pleasure ; 
 but all their enticements were vain. He could 
 not find any satisfaction in such things ; he had 
 conceived a disgust for all worldly vanities ; when- 
 ever he could he stole away from his harem, and 
 leaving the lovely houries who had been brought for 
 him from all parts of the known world, he wandered 
 alone, pondering upon the mysteries of nature. 
 
 One day while riding in his golden chariot 
 through the gardens of Loumbini, outside the 
 city walls, he met an old, decrepit, grey-headed 
 and toothless man, who tottered along feebly with 
 a staff. 
 
 " Who is that man V he asked of his charioteer; 
 "why does he walk like that, supporting his totter- 
 
 * Historic.
 
 452 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 ing and shrivelled body with a crutch ? Is it the 
 peculiar condition of his caste, or is it the law of 
 all human beings ? " 
 
 *'Sire," answered the charioteer, "this man is 
 worn out by age ; all his senses are weakened, 
 sujBferinor and starvation have overcome his 
 
 o 
 
 strength, and he has been abandoned by all his 
 friends. But it is not the peculiar condition of 
 his family or of his caste ; your own glorious 
 father, sire, and even yourself, will, one day, if it 
 should please Brahma, be in the same condition ; 
 it is the end to which all human creatures must 
 come sooner or later." 
 
 " Why, then, care so much for the world," 
 quoth he, " when we must fall into the sere and 
 yellow leaf, and move as snails, where once we 
 moved with the fleetness of the roe ? No, I will 
 return. Charioteer, conduct me back to my 
 palace ; the delicious shades of Loumbini would 
 not amuse me to-day. What is pleasure and joy 
 to me whose body is but the future home of old 
 age and sujffering \ " 
 
 And Sakya returned to his home. Another 
 day, whilst walking with his numerous suite, he 
 came upon a poor and helpless young man, who 
 was nearly exhausted by a burning fever. The 
 youth was lean and squalid ; there was no sign of 
 hope or comfort about him ; and when the prince 
 inquired the cause of what he saw, he was 
 answered that sickness was common — was, in
 
 PART THE SECOND. 453 
 
 fact, nothing more than one of the calamities to 
 which mortals, by their nature, are continually 
 exposed. 
 
 " Is this the course of nature ? " he exclaimed 
 to those around him. " Let us speed back to the 
 palace, for what wise man can rejoice in his 
 health, when he has before him the spectre of 
 coming disease ! " 
 
 On another occasion, while on his way to his 
 hunting grounds, he met a venerable ascetic, a 
 Brahmin, one of that race which have neither 
 home nor business, wife nor child, hopes nor 
 fears ; one who was as barren of desire as of 
 aflfection, and who, in accordance with the 
 Brahminical belief, waited in C[uietude and single- 
 ness of heart for all impurity to quit him, so that 
 in extinction he should find heaven and blessed- 
 ness. The sight of this man gave him the 
 thought which of the two, he or the Brahmin, 
 was the happier man. 
 
 "It is true that I can command a large body 
 of slaves to attend me in my palaces and 
 gardens ; it is true that the best horses and the 
 most costly chariots are ready at any moment 
 awaiting my pleasure ; the choicest food and the 
 richest robes are mine, and yet what does all this 
 avail me if they fail to bring me joy and 
 happiness ? what are all these but transitory 
 things which are vulnerable at every point, and 
 as susceptible of change as even the great sky
 
 454 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 over my head ? Are they anything more than 
 golden links which hold man in bondage to time 
 and earth, preventing the spirit from asserting its 
 true freedom ? Take heed, Sakya, transitory 
 things are perishable ; in this world there is no 
 permanence ; transmigratory existence must be 
 attended by destruction. Ignorance leads all 
 beings astray, and makes them think that to be 
 good which is really evil ; it hinders them from 
 appreciating the truth that life is an evil, and it 
 prevents their becoming disgusted, and clinging 
 to circling existence. I will go, I will quit my 
 home and friends, I will give up the pomps and 
 vanities of this world, and become an ascetic such 
 as this, and by fasting and prayer, I will attain 
 the blessed Nirwana ! " * 
 
 His resolution was taken, he would fly away 
 from the court and the city, and become an 
 ascetic. 
 
 Channa, in the meantime, had come back from 
 the mission which had detained him so long in 
 the holy city, and he now formed part of Sakya s 
 household. 
 
 While in the palace of Kapila he saw Pasto- 
 phora for the first time, and became deeply 
 enamoured of her. She was just sixteen, and 
 
 ♦ Historic. See "Le Bouddha et sa Religion " of Barthdlemy 
 Saint Hilaire, p. 12. "The Pathfinder," vol. v., p. 234. "The 
 History of Religions" of Max Muller, ix. " The Wheel of the 
 Law" of H. Alabaster, p. 121, &c., &c.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 4s 5 
 
 considered by all the most beautiful girl in the 
 harem. She was tall and graceful as the palm 
 trees of our native country, her eyes were ex- 
 ceedingly large, black, and brilliant as the stars 
 of night, but soft and thoughtful ; the natural 
 direction of her look was upward, as if towards 
 heaven, which made her seem as though she 
 looked beyond this world ; her long and deeply- 
 fringed eyelashes were as soft and silky as her 
 arched eyebrows. In those beautiful eyes one 
 could read a whole history of love. 
 
 Her hair was not long, it never grew beyond 
 her swan-like neck, but it was wonderfully thick, 
 and of a black that might have passed for indigo 
 blue. All her other features were those of perfect 
 beauty, and it was no wonder that from the very 
 first moment Channa cast his eyes upon her, he 
 should have fallen so deeply in love with her as 
 almost to forg^et for the dauorhter the hatred he 
 still felt for the mother. 
 
 He was now a man in the prime of life, and a 
 man with whom any woman might easily have 
 fallen in love. Pastophora, I believe, loved him 
 from the very first, but unfortunately I did not 
 perceive this secret passion until it was too late to 
 put a stop to its progress, and the fate of the 
 two lovers was sealed. 
 
 Things had arrived at this point, when Sakya 
 one morning awoke Channa, who slept in the 
 chamber adjoining his own, and told him to pre-
 
 456 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 pare their horses for a journey, for he intended to 
 start that very instant. 
 
 The faithful servant, much surprised, did as 
 his master bade him, and half-an-hour afterwards 
 they were galloping along the slopes of the Nepaul 
 mountains, meeting the fresh morning breeze. 
 
 When they arrived at the banks of the river 
 Anoma, they dismounted, and then for the first 
 time, did Sakya reveal to his attendant the true 
 cause of his flight. 
 
 " I give up the world and all its vanities for 
 ever more, Channa ; henceforward I will be a 
 mendicant, an ascetic, my only property will be 
 the begging pot, the waistband, and the priest's 
 fan proper to a Brahmin. I know that by doing 
 this I break through all the established laws of 
 caste, but is not the life of a saint preferable to 
 that of a king ? You will accompany me too, 
 Channa, for you will be my ever-faithful brother, 
 as you have been my faithful servant." 
 
 " You do me too much honour, prince," an- 
 swered Channa. "But I feel no vocation for the 
 ascetic life ; all men, sire, are not as wise as you 
 are, and I fear by following you, I should go 
 against my desires, for my heart must ever remain 
 in the harem of Kapila, where the lovely Pas- 
 tophora dwells." 
 
 " Ah, you are in love Channa' . . . ! Well, 
 go back to the world and all its vanities, I for- 
 give you. I have no longer any power to com-
 
 PART THE SECOND. 457 
 
 mand ; but some day you will come back to 
 me disgusted with the joys and pleasures of 
 the harem. For the most beautiful woman upon 
 earth has nothing to offer you compared with the 
 supreme joys of Nirwana. But go, and tell my 
 father when you see him, that when I have 
 found the Supreme Wisdom, I will return to him 
 and console him ; farewell." 
 
 These were the last words of • the prince, 
 changing his rich garments for those of a poor 
 hunter whom he met on the road, he proceeded 
 on his way to Ragagriha, the capital of the king- 
 dom of Magadha, where he intended to join a 
 celebrated Brahmin, who lived in the greatest 
 austerity. And Channa, meanwhile, galloped 
 back to Kapila, where the greatest excitement 
 soon prevailed, on account of the prince's sudden 
 disappearance ; but this faithful companion and 
 friend soon forgot everything in the smiles of his 
 beloved Pastophora. 
 
 And now, my dearest Walter, I think I must 
 leave the rest of my story for another night, for 
 morning is already approaching, and the light of 
 day, as you know, puts the ghosts to flight, ren- 
 dering them invisible." 
 
 Walter. "Must you leave me again ^ But you 
 will come to-morrow, my angel wife, and tell me 
 more about our past ? Can it be possible that 
 you were ever that wicked Ananda, whose his-
 
 458 THROUGH THE AGES, 
 
 tory you have been telling me ? Can it be 
 possible that you ever were so wicked I you 
 who are now the purest, and the most loving 
 of angels ? " 
 
 Conchita. "Yes, Walter, I was Ananda ; and if 
 you knew the history of my spirit before that, 
 you would no longer be surprised at my evil 
 passions, for you would see me still more savage, 
 still more brute-like. In a previous existence I 
 not only murdered my victims, but I ate them ! 
 Such is the gradual growth and development 
 of the spirit ! Now, I would not take any 
 one's life ; I could not, even in self-defence, 
 for I have grown out of it, it is no longer in my 
 nature." 
 
 Walter. " And I was your enemy, my Con- 
 chita! But tell me, who is that Pastophora of 
 whom you speak? Have I known her in this life? 
 Can it be possible that I have ever loved any 
 other woman but you, my love ? " 
 
 Conchita. " If you wish to know, the spirit of 
 her who was Pastophora, 2500 years ago, was, in 
 your present existence, the former Lady Carlton, 
 your own mother." 
 
 Walter. " My mother ! " 
 
 Conchita. " Yes, my Walter, love is never lost, 
 and, as 1 have told you before, we have long been 
 one family, and have often been incarnated side 
 by side ; and what has been the case in our family 
 is also the case in most others ; whenever love or
 
 PART THE SECOND. 459 
 
 sympathy unites one soul to another, it is attrac- 
 tion to that soul ; spirits are gathered together in 
 groups, suiting their needs. Whatever kind of in- 
 tellectual life I may be attracted to, there I shall 
 gravitate ; but if there is no natural or spiritual 
 attraction between persons composing earthly 
 families, they will separate in the spirit world, 
 and meet as strangers on earth. 
 
 " But I must leave you now, to-morrow I will 
 continue the history of our spirits through the 
 ages, till then, farewell."
 
 NOTE. 
 
 Whilst the foregoing pages were in the press, 
 I chanced to see the number of ^' The Spiri- 
 tualist " for September the 18th, 1874, and 
 in it I found a letter from the well-known Prince 
 of Wittgec stein to the editor of that journal, 
 which bears so strongly upon the subject of this 
 book that I take the liberty of transcribing it here, 
 as it seems to me to afford very strong proof of 
 the truth of the doctrines I desire to advocate : — 
 
 Allow me to communicate to you a fact, which seems 
 strongly to corroborate my belief in reincarnation, and which 
 happened to me in tlie summer of 1869. 
 
 A very distinguished French writing medium, Mdme. 
 
 C , had come to spend some weeks at my house, at 
 
 Nieder Walluf, and we had asked our leading spirits whether 
 it was possible or not to evoke during the sleep of the body 
 the spirit of a person now alive ] Soon after there fell from 
 
 the ceiling, on the table where Mdme. C was writing 
 
 under spiritual control, a small oval bronze medal, quite 
 tarnished, with some dry yellow earth sticking to it, bearing 
 on one side the likeness of Christ, on the other one that of 
 the Virgin Mary, and seeming, by its style, to belong to the 
 sixteenth century. We were then told that this medal had 
 been buried a long time ago, with a person who had con- 
 stantly worn it, and who had died a violent death — that 
 this person was now re-incarnated in Germany — that an 
 object which had belonged to her formerly was necessary to
 
 462 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 establish between her and us a fluidical connection, which 
 might enable her to come and appeal to us for assistance 
 against a sort of painful obsession under which she was 
 labouring — that her name began with an A — and that we 
 were to call her " In memory of the toivn of Dreux^ 
 
 Accordingly, on the following and some other evenings 
 
 we set to work, Madame C (whom I had mesmerised 
 
 to sleep for better control) holding the pencil : And pre- 
 sently the spirit wrote, in small, hasty writing, " I am 
 here." 
 
 Quest. — How is it that you a/re already asleep ? (It was 
 only ten o'clock.) 
 
 Ans. — I am in bed, ill of fever. 
 
 Quest. — Can you tell us your present name ? 
 
 Ans. — Not yet. When I wore the medal I was in 
 France. In the reign of Louis XIV. I was killed by a man 
 who was carrying off a lady from the monastery where I 
 was a nun. 
 
 Quest. — Why did he kill you ? 
 
 Ans. — He did so unintentionally. I had just returned 
 from Dreux, where I had been sent on an errand by our 
 Abbess. I overtook them unawares and threatened to 
 scream ; he then struck me on the head with the pommel 
 of his sword, in order to stun me into silence, and killed 
 me. 
 
 Quest. — How did he manage to enter the convent ? 
 
 Ans. — By bribing the man who kept our doors, and who 
 feigned to be asleep while they were stealing his keys. When 
 he saw that I was dead he was frightened. He and his 
 servant bore me off and buried me in the first place they 
 found fit. There are now houses built all over it, but my 
 grave exists, still unknown, in a garden. 
 
 Quest. — What place was it ? 
 
 Ans. — The Pre-aux-Clercs, Paris. 
 
 Quest. — Was the man who killed gou a nobleman ? 
 
 Ans. — Yes ; he belonged to the Lesdiguieres. 
 
 Quest. — Who was the nun he carried off? 
 
 Ans. — A novice of a noble family. He had led her 
 already to a coach, which was to carry her off in another
 
 PART THE SECOND. 463 
 
 direction than the one he intended to take ; they were to 
 meet again later. So she knew nothing about ray death. 
 They fled to foreign countries. She died soon after. 
 
 Quest. — What did your spirit do when it left your body 1 
 Ans. — I hastened straight to our Abbess, but she was 
 terribly frightened when she saw me, thinking it was a 
 nightmare. I then roamed about the chapel, always think- 
 ing myself alive still. I only understood that I was dead 
 when those who were burying me said a prayer before 
 covering my body with earth. A great trouble overcame 
 me then, and I felt it a hard task to pardon them. I have 
 great difficulty in obeying your call, because as soon as I 
 am asleep, I am usually forced to return to Dreux and to 
 haunt the church under my former aspect, as I used to do 
 before my present incarnation. It is a terrible subjection, 
 a constant hindrance to my progress, as it paralyses all my 
 efforts to come into contact with the good spirits who guide 
 and comfort those who are in the flesh and asleep. Emile ! 
 You must help me to free myself. 
 
 After some words of advice and encouragement, and my 
 promise to help her, we continued : — 
 
 Quest. — In ivhich street at Paris teas your 7nonastery 
 situated ? 
 
 Ans. — Rue de I'Abbaye. 
 
 Quest. — Under the patronage of which saint 1 
 
 Ans. — Of St. Bruno ; the congregation of the Ladies of 
 the Passion. 
 
 Qusst. — Does the monastery still exist 9 
 
 Ans. — Destroyed ; plundered during the Revolution. 
 
 Quest. — Is tliere anything now remaining of it 9 
 
 Ans. — A wall. 
 
 [Having, after this, written to Paris for information, the 
 friend to whom we wrote informed us that, after many long 
 searches, he had indeed found out, incrusted between houses, 
 an old wall, which once, as was said, belonged to a lady's 
 monastery.] 
 
 Quest. — Have you^ in your present incai^iation, any recol- 
 lection of the one gone hy ?
 
 464 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 Ans. — I have a sort of apprehension, as if I were to die 
 of a violent death — an injury to the head. It makes me 
 very nervous at times ! I see now that it is only a reflex 
 of the past. I also dream of phantoms in monastic gowns, 
 and of murderers rushing at them ; also of a spectre in an 
 ancient dress, who grins at me. 
 
 Quest. — Do you live far off? 
 
 Ans. — In Germany. 
 
 Quest. — Is your name a German one ? 
 
 Ans. — Yes. Those questions hurt me ! 
 
 Quest. — Do I know you ? 
 
 Ans. — To be sure you do ! 
 
 Quest. — Where do you live ? 
 
 The medium then begins to trace with great difficulty, 
 " F . . . Fu ..." I exclaim, under sudden inspiration, 
 
 " Fulda .^" and at the same moment Mdme. C gives a 
 
 shriek and a violent start, nearly upsetting her chair. She 
 says she felt a commotion, as of a strong electric discharge. 
 I understand at once that the controlling spirit is that of 
 
 my cousin, the Countess Amelie of Y who lives in 
 
 Fulda (a small town about five hours' journey away by the 
 railway), where she occupies a high charge in a Protestant 
 Chapter of noble ladies. 
 
 Quest, (after a long pause). — Why did you give the medium 
 such a shock 1 
 
 Ans. — I did not want you to know yet. 
 
 Quest — Did your body aviake ? 
 
 Ans. — No ; but I was startled. 
 
 While we were still (Madame C and T) debating 
 
 whether it were really my cousin or not, the medium's hand 
 unconsciously wrote down a name which cut short all my 
 doubts, as it referred to a secret known only to the Countess 
 of Y and myself. 
 
 Quest. — Hoiv am I to ascertain your identity^ and make 
 sure that you are not a frivolous spirit, mocking us 1 
 
 Ans. — When you meet me, before long, ask whether I 
 have any dreams, in which it seems to me as if I were 
 killed % I shall say no, and add, that I dream sometimes
 
 PART THE SECOND. 465 
 
 of a priest murdered by ruffians. You may also show me 
 the medal ; I shall feel then as if I had known it before. 
 
 With this communication we closed our evocations of 
 Amelie, which had taken us several evenings. 
 
 A few months later I met my cousin at my sister's 
 country seat. Amelie, as was her wont, began joking with 
 me about my faith in spiritualism, declaring that it was all 
 delusion and deception. I bore her merry attacks merrily, 
 defending, however, my theories about dreams, reminis- 
 cences, spirit messages, and so on, till I came to ask, as in 
 a joke, whether she, for example, ever di-eamt that she 
 was being murdered ? She answered " No ;" adding, after 
 a slight pause, that, in fact, she had sometimes a disagree- 
 able dream, always the same — a sort of nightmare — which 
 made her nervous and uncomfortable for the whole day 
 after. On my insisting upon receiving the particulars, she 
 said at last, that she dreamt of a Catholic priest in sacerdotal 
 dress, flying from a burning church, with armed men at his 
 heels, who wanted to kill him. After chansjincf the conver- 
 sation, I took the medal out of my pocket and showed it to 
 her, feigning to have bought it at an antiquary's. She 
 handled it about for some moments, and then began to 
 examine it so long and so closely that I, at last, asked her, 
 "What was the matter]" whereupon she answered that 
 " she could not understand how that object seemed as 
 familiar as if she had possessed or seen it formerly, although 
 she could not, for the world, recollect under what circum- 
 stances." 
 
 I now told her all about our evocations ; and she, being 
 very much struck by my narrative, requested to be shown 
 the medial writing. This writing, I had thought, was not 
 like her own. I had known hers only by her letters, in 
 German, written with pen and ink, while the former, traced 
 by a French medium, was written in French. When she 
 saw it she exclaimed that it was positively her wi-iting, when 
 she used a pencil instead of a pen ; and forthwith she wrote 
 some words which I dictated, and which proved to be exactly 
 like the original
 
 466 THROUGH THE AGES. 
 
 She got into a great fright at the thought of her soul 
 haunting an old church, and I advised her, in order to para- 
 lyse the attraction, to pray every evening for help to her 
 guardian angel, and to say three times aloud, before going 
 to bed, " I will not (jo /"' 
 
 Since she has done this, I was informed by my leading 
 spirits that she has entirely succeeded in ridding herself of 
 tJie aforesaid subjection. 
 
 '* This, my dear sir, is my personal experience of a fact, 
 interesting enougli, I think, to find a space in your columns; 
 and I would be thankful for every explanation of it, given 
 in the non-reincarnationist sense, in favour of the French 
 proverb which says, Du choc des opinions jaillit la verite. 
 
 Believe me, at the same time, my dear sir, yours very 
 truly, 
 
 Emile, Prince of Wittgenstein. 
 
 NiEDER WaLLUF, on THE RhINE, 
 
 September 6, 1874. 
 
 END OF VOL. I, 
 
 TUKNltlll.I AND -iPKAK?*. r-KlMEKS, kUINBlTROb.
 
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