Now, friends, we must attend to material affairs. The region over which we are passing is a reminder of an American desert, minus a fauna and flora, of which there is no indication, but when the beneficent system shall have watered its parched soil all that will be changed. Gentola̤, you perceive that away northward and southward there are irrigated tracts, made possible through immense reservoirs which the annual floods fill to repletion, and which with the addition of occasional showers, suffices to moisten the thirsty lands. Also there are deep wells which supply water for domestic and other purposes. Certainly the general Government spares neither expense or labor for the protection of those engaged in the conflict with such adverse forces. Yes, doubtless, in time, the System will reclaim Ento's entire waste lands, and again the equatorial regions will become the most fertile and populous portions of the planet.
For the reason that the waste over which we have passed offers little to either instruct or interest you or our dear lad, Bernard, we have journeyed rather hurriedly. For the scientist, deep under its surface there are treasures untold. Histories of races so ancient that neither record or legend hints of who or what has been buried there. No trump of Angel ever will awaken to animation the ashes of peoples who ages ago lived and loved upon the highlands and amid the verdant vales of the long since levelled lands, but as no atom of the universe can go astray or cease to be, somewhere those ancient ones yet are living, loving and filling their allotted places among the countless myriads of the children of the Infinite Father, Mother God.
Before us, gleaming in the sunlight, is Hûnda̤ffon (name of Andûmana̤'s cup bearer) and lining its northwestern shore and gracing its slightly rising background is Roûva̤ Tylû, one of Ento's ancient cities. We will alight on yonder lofty Temple dome, near the centre of the city.
George—Although previously I have passed this way, I have not looked through this antiquated city, so with your approval, friends, Genessano, Bernard and I will make a hurried exploration of its highways and byways.
De L'Ester—Your pleasure is ours, and you, Zenesta̤, who are so well versed in the histories of Ento's ancient and modern cities, will kindly relate whatever you may know of Roûva̤.
Zenesta Hao—With somewhat of pleasure and somewhat of sadness I shall comply with your request. It may surprise you to learn that this city was the home of my parents and also my home during a portion of my last Re-embodiment. You who understand the Law know that in referring to my parents I mean those through whom I last was reborn into mortal existence, and who were a newly wedded pair, wealthy, cultivated and possessed of virtues of an exalted nature. See you yonder stately dwelling nearby whose portals a fountain throws into the air its silvery spray? In that dwelling the Angels of the Visitation found for me suitable environments for my rebirth, and when I grew self-conscious I found myself cradled on the bosom and gazing into the eyes of the loveliest and gentlest of women. As an infant thinks, so thought I of a wonderful past existence, but I looked into my mother's lovelit eyes and I forgot, I forgot. Soon for me was naught but a blessed present, the present of my mother's caresses, the present when from her fair breasts I drew into my life a part of her life, and the days passed, and as other children unfold, so did I until three birth anniversaries had marked the passing years of my mortal existence, then an awful shadow began to creep over our threshold. My lovely, gentle mother, who, from the time of my birth, had not been strong, rapidly grew weaker, and my father, in an agony of grief and terror scarcely left her side. As memory recalls that sorrowful time, I see the look of fear and despair in my mother's eyes, and I hear her pathetic appeals to the physicians, to my father, to save her life, to hold her fast, lest death might tear her from her husband, from her child, but the shadow crept nearer, ever nearer, and child as I was, her prayers for succor, and my father's moans and sobbing cries to Andûmana̤, to Phra̤, to the Gods to save the dear life so surely ebbing away, filled me with terror indescribable.
At the last my father sought to keep me away from the closing scene of my mother's life, but with the depth and tenacity of a mother's love she held me close within one arm and with the other she drew my father's face to hers, and her breathing grew fainter, fainter, and after a little ceased and there was Silence, and the dear arms relaxed their caress, the throbbing heart-beats were stilled, and in affright I raised my head from my mother's breast to look into her pallid face on which the calm of death was resting. In terror I reached out my arms, crying, "Father! father!" No answer came to my cries, but a moment later alarmed attendants hurried into the apartment and lifted me from my dead mother's breast. As they bore me away some one raised my father's head, and on his face, too, was the calm of death, and from his lips a crimson stream fell upon my mother's white robe.
Pardon me, friends, I had not meant to sadden you, or to wet my own eyes with infrequent tears over the memories of a bygone time.
After the untimely death of my parents I was cared for by my father's brother until, as a pupil, I was placed in the Galarēsa̤ of Camarissa̤, which, I may say, thereafter was my home until I joined my dear ones in our Spirit Realms. Your sympathetic expressions assure me that I have not too greatly presumed in offering this recital of my earliest days, recalled through viewing remembered scenes of my childhood and of later years.
Now I will hasten to acquaint you with a condensed history of this really ancient city. Fourteen Ento centuries ago Roûva̤ was a rich and very populous city, situated on ground so elevated as to afford an extended view of the expanse of Hûndaffon and somewhat of the lands beyond its further shore. A reliable historian of that period says: "From some very ancient writings in my possession I have learned that in remote times the region north of Roûva̤ was broken by mountainous elevations and vales through which tumultuous streams found their way into Loisa̤ Hûndaffon, which in the spring season overflowed its banks to the great detriment of contiguous low lying lands." The historian to whom I have alluded was Lotis Oovan Issillo, whose Writings are considered standards of excellence. Of the ancient Writings of which he makes mention no trace remains, but through ancient Ento Spirits we know that their statements were correct. During the passing centuries unfavoring conditions have greatly changed Roûva̤, which retains but slight traces of its ancient greatness. Still it is an attractive and quite prosperous city.
Hûndaffon is about thirty English miles long and quite twenty miles wide. Through continuous dredging its depth of about two hundred feet is maintained, and largely it furnishes irrigation for certain low south lands, and affords carriage for various craft plying between Roûva̤ and villages along its shores. Toward the northwest we perceive a very considerable river pouring its sparkling waters into the lake, the fine bridge spanning it affording communication between the two divisions of the city. This river, which now is the only stream of importance flowing into Hûndaffon, is known as Somû-ikaton (Blessing River). It rises in the far north, and truly it is appropriately named, for its life giving water supplies ample irrigation for the lands lying along its length, from which agricultural and other communities derive sustenance. Along its shores are towns and villages in which are excellent schools, libraries, temples and other features for the advancement and enjoyment of highly cultivated communities. From Loisa̤ Hûndaffon northward the river has been deepened and widened, culminating at its head in an immense reservoir, which we have learned is to be increased to twice its present dimensions. The river, too, is to be further deepened and widened, that it may afford carriage for vessels of large tonnage. During the efficient Administration of Omanos Fûnha̤ many extensive reservoirs have been constructed and flowing streams deepened and widened, the growing needs of the people demanding the exercise of all possible means favoring their natural, therefore just, requirements. You are aware that Ento's entire Public Works are owned and maintained by the General Government, thus abuses of privileges, consequently of peoples, are avoided, and so energetically is the construction of the Waterways and Irrigating System being executed that ere long Ento will experience a degree of prosperity greater than at any time during the history of the Planet. Then, too, knowledge of the coming new religion will usher in universal happiness where now is universal sadness.
You express surprise at the stupendous excavations that have been and now are being made on Ento. Generally one ceases to wonder at an accomplished fact, so I perhaps cannot quite appreciate your state of mind, my last rebirth having occurred long after such excavations had become a common feature of Ento. Many centuries previous to the inception of the System, through the agencies of scientific appliances, excavations of Ento's light, porous soil were easily accomplished. To render them watertight was the greatest embarrassment, but through the formation of a conglomerate cement for linings of reservoirs, canals and the like science arranged that difficulty. The great Waterways also are lined with a combination of cement and stone, the exceeding porosity of the soil requiring it.
I now will conclude my reminiscences associated with Roûva̤. During my youth and later years at intervals I returned to my old home to attend to such interests as I had inherited from my parents, but at length age and infirmity disinclining me for further journeyings, in a manner agreeable to my sense of justice I disposed of my possessions and as I then thought bade a last farewell to Roûva̤. Since then it appears to have but slightly changed, yet I doubt not ere long it shall find itself within the hospitable embrace of the System, it will so rejuvenate itself as to again become one of the foremost cities of Ento.
De L'Ester—For having afforded us an interesting half hour we are your debtors. Certainly it is a surprise to learn that in this city your last rebirth occurred, and that in yonder stately Kinos draped residence your earliest Ento experiences came to you. Since we all at one time or another have tasted of the sweets of joy and the bitterness of sorrow, we know how to sympathize with the joys and sorrows of others, and what sorrow is so pathetic as that of a young child Soul, whose tender feet are essaying their first steps upon the rugged pathway of mortal existence. No, Gentola̤, repeated embodiments do not inure the mortal expression of the Ego to the sorrows and vicissitudes of the physical plane, but through such experiences the Ego evolves into loftier, grander states of Being. Does the Ego and its mortal expression mutually experience joy and sorrow? Aye, truly, but the ego knows, while the objective expression or Soul only sees through a glass darkly. Only the fully freed Ego is capable of comprehending this occult statement, so patiently you will await its solution.
Here are our explorers. Have you found aught of interest?
George—We only have glanced here and there, but can assure you that we might linger here for a day and then leave this hoary Roûva̤ with regret. It is so quaint, so enchanting, that I propose that some time when you and my sister may feel so inclined we will again bring you to Roûva̤, that together we all may view its many objects of interest. You will be delighted to come? Then that matter is settled, and Bernard will relate an incident of our half hour ramble that may amuse you.
Bernard—Mother, dear, you should have seen how George startled a young Priest who stood in the doorway of a Temple talking to an elderly, dignified personage. As we approached them the priest said: "Yes, yes, we are hearing of strange proceedings in many places, but more particularly in the Palace of our Supreme Ruler, where the Princess Valloa̤ is thought to be dying. May the pitiful gods prolong her days. Think of it, sir, think of it, it is openly said that Prince Dano, as also the Princess Valloa̤, declare by the Gods that they both see and converse with those who long have been in the Silence, and whose ashes attest to their nothingness. Your pardon, sir, but truly it is so very absurd that I cannot forbear smiling when I think of what Prince Dano has given utterance to. Why, he goes so far as to assert that not only has he talked with the dead, but with a woman who says she belongs to a World somewhere in space. I cannot at this moment recall the name of this World, and have not learned where it is supposed to be located, but he declares that she not only spoke to him, but touched him, yes, sir, really touched him. Of course this is the merest hallucination, for persons of healthful minds never are subject to such vagaries. It is true that in past times on momentous occasions the Gods have, and do now, speak to our High Priests, and with the Most High Priest of the Inner Temple Zim, but with the people, never. Fancy yourself, sir, indulging in such wild imaginings as that the dead, or a being from an unimaginable World have spoken to you, or what is quite as impossible, touched——" Just then George touched him on the extended right hand, and with a start instantly he stopped talking, and for a moment looked at his hand, then glanced about him with such a perplexed expression that the man with whom he was speaking regarded him with some surprise, and an inquiry as to what had disquieted him. Recovering himself, he attempted to explain that he had experienced a peculiar sensation, but he got no further, for George gave him such a palpable touch on his left hand, then on his face, that he cried out in terror: "Save me, Andûmana̤, save me, save me," and fled through the temple and out at a rear door, leaving the dignified personage in a state of bewilderment. Mother, it was such a droll performance that I shall laugh whenever I think of it. Oh, no, I did not understand what the Priest said; George translated it for me.
De L'Ester—George, if your exploit is not altogether commendable, at least it is amusing, and certainly you have given the priest who evidently is a Sensitive, a novel experience, which may serve as a stepping stone toward his later enlightenment. I fancy that he will not relate his strange experience to his Superiors, who already are greatly agitated over the weird reports with which the air is vibrant, and which soon will be so augmented as to overwhelm both priests and people.
Roûva̤, we now must say to you Info Oovistû. The hours are swiftly passing and at any moment we may be called upon to turn our faces toward Da̤o. No, we do not consider Valloa̤'s departure imminent, but in her devitalized state it soon may occur, and we must hold ourselves in readiness for our part in the closing scene of the momentous occasion.
George, we will rise to a greater height, so that Gentola̤'s vision may command extensive views of the countries over which we shall pass. It is not likely that we shall alight more than twice between Roûva̤ and the western shore of Indoloisa̤.
Ah, Gentola̤, you have grown weary. In our eagerness to afford you views of many things we forget that you are not like ourselves, tireless. George will escort Bernard to his bright home, so make your adieus to him and our friends, and then I shall bear you swiftly to your home, where ere now you should have arrived.
In no more than five minutes we have crossed the space between Ento and Earth. Yes, a speedy passage, but when again you shall be a freed Spirit, you will journey with the quickness of thought.
I pray you to retire early and rest; rest until to-morrow, when we will come for you.
Adieu.
CULMINATION OF THE MISSION.
De L'Ester—Good morning, madame. We are delighted to find you in such a favorable mental and physical state. Yes, Dr. Merthel, White Cloud and your humble servant gave you a treatment last night, and we were somewhat amused at your idea that suddenly your room had grown very warm. Hereafter, when you shall perceive white, vaporish clouds drifting or falling over your closed eyelids, you may feel assured that White Cloud is paying you a visit fraught with beneficence. Yes, when properly administered, invariably Magnetization produces in the recipient a sense of warmth and increased vigor. But your son, with our Band, awaits us at a point near Roûva̤, and we must hasten our departure. George, allow me to assist madame. We regret that we find it necessary to still further change our original programme, which included views of the extreme northern and southern portions of the Planet. Events are so shaping themselves that until after the culmination of our Mission and your recovery from the effects of the ordeal to which presently we must subject you, we must defer this feature of our purposes. Be not disturbed; rest assured that we will see to it that you shall not be tried beyond endurance.
Gentola—I am not in the least alarmed, but when I think of a cessation of continuous association with my dear lad and you, my dear friends, like a shadow a sense of sadness and loneliness steals over me, and I shrink from the coming——
De L'Ester—No more; say no more; your every thought is apparent to us, and this emotion endangers your safety. We, better than you have been able to count the cost of this to you strange and engrossing experience. All along we have known that to a degree it would unfit you for the common avocations of your mortal existence, and for this reason, for the time being, we have induced in your mind a state of forgetfulness, but when the proper time shall arrive you will be made to recall all that has occurred during the pursuance of our Mission, and you will recall it without pain or regret, and as the years of your mortal existence shall pass, we will be with you, not as now, but in a manner that will add to your interest in the affairs of your daily life.
Ah, our friends have not awaited our arrival, but are coming to meet us. Loha̤û; loha̤û; Onos isson ē twa̤, ēmanos. (Hail, hail; we welcome you, friends.) Bernard, you find your mother in a sad mood, and you will comfort her, and you, Robert, will improvise a song in which we may join; thus we may restore our disturbed harmony.
Robert—
From a faraway shore come the notes of a song,
Its music in waves of sweet melody falling,
Are drifting, are drifting the bright way along,
From the homes where our dear ones are calling, are calling.
Refrain.
We are waiting for you, we are watching for you,
As your boat drifts along toward our fair, shining shore,
And when Earth's troubled scenes shall recede from your view,
We will greet you where sorrow shall come nevermore.
Our souls thrill with joy, as the glad notes come swelling
From the lips of our loved ones, so fond and so true,
Hear you not the sweet message their voices are telling,
We are waiting, yes, waiting, and watching for you.
Refrain.
We are waiting for you, we are watching for you,
As your boat drifts along toward our fair, shining shore,
And when Earth's troubled scenes shall recede from your view,
We will greet you where sorrow shall come nevermore.
De L'Ester—Ah, now you are smiling; the shadows have flown, and you are serene. Thus may it ever be until the shadowy veil falling between the seeming and real World shall be lifted and you shall join the loving, joyous Band who are ever waiting and watching for you.
Now we will journey eastward. In all directions the lands are somewhat broken by low plateaus, the vestiges of mountain ranges or of spurs of mountain ranges, and at intervals we catch views of existing mountains of no great altitude. The lands lying between the plateaus, although not thoroughly irrigated, are more or less fertile, and northward and southward are scantily timbered lands and inconsiderable streams, both of which are rare features of Ento's equatorial natural scenery. Speaking of irrigation reminds me of something that I have desired to mention. Through telescopic observations, one of Earth's foremost astronomers is inclined to believe that the Entoans (Marsians) have resorted to irrigation. To him and to another illumined scientific man, who, I am proud to say, is my countryman, you will convey this message: "Gentlemen, to your vision your telescopes convey faint, and generally misleading gleams of what may be facts, but in the instance mentioned, I assure you that the surmise is entirely correct, and inevitably a period will arrive when Earth, like Ento, will require the same treatment." Indeed, it is not too much to say that already the inception of the period has arrived, and as the centuries pass it will grow more and more apparent, and were Earth's peoples as wise as some time they will be, they would value the ounce of prevention beyond the pound of cure.
Flammarion, my countryman, I greet you, not as one greets a stranger, but as one co-worker greets another. Ofttimes, son of our beloved France, while you have striven to learn the secrets of our glowing Central Sun, or to read the hither side of the inscrutable face of Earth's shining satellite, or when through the hours of quiet nights you have sought to wrest from illimitable starry spaces the meaning of the Universe, I, with others interested in your life work, have been by your side, striving to assist your aspiring Soul, and be assured that when you again shall come into the realm of causes, you will find the reward of your loving, patient labor, of your aspiring, exalted endeavor.
And you, son of a land whose deeds of good and of ill have been sung by lips more tuneful than are mine, with kindest thoughts I and those with me greet you. When, with questioning eyes and reverent Soul, you too, have gazed into the immeasurable distances, in whose depths countless Worlds, peopled and unpeopled, move in stately order toward their allotted destiny, not I alone, or this grand Spirit, Giordano Bruno, whose ashes attested to the steadfastness of his integrity and hallow the soil of Italy with the sacredness of martyrdom for truth's sake, but others yet more exalted, have held vigil with you, when you have been alone with the night, with the World Invisible to mortal ken, and with the all pervading, Infinite Intelligent Energy, known by many names. May success crown your ceaseless endeavors to discern, not to obscure, Truth, is the earnest desire of your co-worker, Carl De L'Ester, and of those with me, who, like yourself, are workers for Love's sake.
Now, Gentola̤, direct your gaze far, far toward the northeast. Yes, that is the right direction. Do you perceive anything peculiar?
Gentola—Afar I see a body of water so extensive that my vision does not reach the farther shore. A silvery vapor partly obscures the view, but as we draw nearer I see the water sparkling in the sunlight, and over its slightly disturbed surface vessels great and small are passing in all directions. As we approach still nearer I perceive that from its eastern shore gradually the ground rises to quite an elevated plateau, and through the mist, which really is a gentle shower of rain, upon which the sun is shining, I seem to perceive tints of all the colors of a rainbow. I should have said hints rather than tints, for they are mere suggestions of color. The shower has ceased, and—dear me, a great city covers the slope and extends away across the plateau. What a strangely peculiar scene. Is it real, or is it a mirage?
De L'Ester—We will go nearer, and you shall decide. A little lower, George. Now look and describe the view.
Gentola—As before, I see a great expanse of water, which, as far as my vision reaches, is inclosed by a wall so broad that the top of it is a roadway on which people are walking and motor vehicles are passing to and fro. The top of the wall is quite above the level of the water, and on the farther side are massive buildings which appear to be warehouses and manufactories. The first street away from the water is very wide, beautifully paved and appears to be devoted to business purposes. The second street is parallel with the first, and from it the city is terraced upward to the level of the plateau. All the streets cross at right angles, and they are so wide, so well paved and kept that it is a pleasure to look at them. On the crest of the plateau illuminating columns, domes, turrets and lofty structures of various kinds are outlined against the now cloudless sky. Tramway cars and motor vehicles swiftly climb the ascending streets to the wide, level ways of the city. In all directions air Transports, like huge birds, are passing through the quiet air. On the streets are many people, walking or riding in tramway cars or in motor vehicles, and on the outgoing or incoming vessels are many passengers. Altogether the scene is very animated. The city itself is indescribably and peculiarly beautiful. From its front upward and throughout its extent there is a sort of diffusion of color resembling the tints of a fading rainbow. Now a passing cloud partly obscures the sun, and the tints deepen into positive color. The effect is charming but bewildering, and to me so inexplicable that I shall feel obliged if some one will inform me concerning it.
De L'Ester—Phoemadon, the body of water bathing the feet of the far famed Bendolû iffon, which in your language would mean rainbow hued, is little less extensive than is Indoloisa̤. By the Entoans it is regarded as an inland sea, but it is so slightly saline as to serve the city for all domestic and other purposes. Properly it is a lake, its depth varying with the season, for during the spring, when melting polar and snows of more temperate climes flow over the face of the Planet, yonder great seawall scarcely restrains its increased volume. The plateau upon which Bendolû-iffon is built is a remnant of a mountain which in a bygone age reared its lofty peaks along the entire length of Phoemadon, then curving in a northwesterly direction lost itself very near the North Pole. Zenesta̤, mon ami, in all that relates to your Planet you are better informed than am I. Will you kindly devote some moments to our enlightenment?
Zenesta Hao—Always your pleasure is mine. Bendolû-iffon is one of the oldest cities of Ento. Through a study of historical works, personal investigation, and an acquaintance with ancient Ento Spirits, I have learned that its origin dates back to a period anterior to the establishment of the Government under one Supreme Ruler. Previous to this period the various countries of Ento were ruled by might, each ruler with his people occupying either an offensive or defensive attitude. Naturally the results of such a condition were inharmonious, yet strangely enough out of such inharmony Bendolû-iffon came into existence. Notwithstanding its apparent newness it is not built upon the ruins of an ancient city. Not at all. Despite its age, it never has been in a ruinous state, its inhabitants ever having considered it a Sacred obligation to maintain it at its best. Although it is built upon rock, everywhere are towering trees, shrubbery, climbing vines and a wealth of blooming plants. Chiefly through extensive excavations, filled with soil, this has been brought about; indeed largely the surface soil of lawns and gardens has been borrowed from elsewhere. From Phoemadon the city receives a plenteous water supply, and the climate of this region being all that can be desired, vegetation grows luxuriantly. Were we less pressed for time, you, Gentola̤, and your son would find much of interest in the really wonderful system of water supply of this rainbow hued city. No, no other city of Ento exhibits this peculiar color effect, and the story of its origin may serve to interest you. Unlike many historical and legendary narratives the story is absolutely true, the proofs of its integrity being indisputably evident.
During a period antecedent to the establishment of the National Government, Azokēon, King of Ra̤ûhû, was at enmity with Mēdos, King of Tsirma, and out of the angry impulses of the two Sovereigns grew bitter strife and warfare. Again and again, fierce relentless battles were fought, and in both armies so many were slain that at length both sovereigns grew alarmed lest complete extinction of their subjects might result, or, that what was more to be feared, other rulers perceiving their exhausted state, might take advantage of it to subjugate them, even as they sought to subjugate each other. Finally mutual adversity brought about a mutual desire for reconciliation, and that they might amicably adjust their real, or fancied grievances, a conference was agreed upon, and at a specified time the Sovereigns with their armies met on the crest of this plateau, across which was the boundary line between their two kingdoms.
The morning of the day set apart for the conference was fine and clear, the radiance from Andûmana̤'s abode bathing the home of His children as in a sea of light. With an exchange of courteous greetings the conference was opened, but as it proceeded, each Sovereign inclining toward his own interests, demanded more than either one was willing to concede to the other, and ere long their hostile minds threatened the conference with a disastrous conclusion. Suddenly ominous clouds swiftly climbed up from the western horizon, and a strange stillness, like that preceding the dread approach of Phra (Death) hushed all things into frightened silence. Over land and sea fell a ghastly shadow, deep as twilight, and in terrified dismay, Sovereigns and soldiery gazed into each other's eyes. Swiftly the tumultuous, inky clouds rushed across the sky, and fitful gusts of wind stirred all things into motion. Blinding lightning set the lurid air ablaze, and thunder so terrific, that it shook the foundations of Ento, attested to the anger of the incensed Deities. Then an unprecedented storm, in all its fury, burst upon the two armies, and so fierce was the lightning that many were stricken dead. Blinding torrents of rain fell from the dark, angry clouds, and mad gusts of wind swept across the rocky plateau, hurling confused masses of camp equipage and soldiery down the slope and into the surging waves of Phoemadon. Above the rushing, roaring fury of the tempest, arose the shrieks, groans and prayers of the terror stricken, unsheltered men who were powerless against the terrific onslaught of the elements, and the two sovereigns being equally endangered, were overwhelmed with awe and despair, recognizing that their iniquities had brought upon them and their inoffensive people the just vengeance of Andûmana̤ and the Deific ones. In their dire extremity they implored the Divine Messengers to entreat Andûmana̤ to stay His wrath lest Phra should utterly destroy them and their armies. Azokēon, the Sovereign of Ra̤ûhû, being a man of high courage, fine character and very devout, with hands upraised toward Andûmana̤'s obscured abode, cried aloud, "Creator and Preserver, and at Thy Will, Destroyer of the work of Thy hands, Sovereign of Sovereigns, God of all Gods, and Father of Thy righteous and unrighteous children, I beseech Thee to listen to Thy humbly repentant Son, who in taking vengeance into mine own hands have impiously offended Thee. Destroy me, oh destroy me utterly, but spare Thy unoffending children, who at my command and that of Mēdos, have striven to slay each other. For shame, that we have forgotten that we are brothers, we cover our faces and implore Thy mercy." Then, as in trembling expectancy, he awaited the dread touch of Phra's icy fingers, Mēdos clasped him about his knees, crying in piteous tones, "Andûmana̤, I, too, have grievously sinned against Thee. Destroy me too, if it may please Thee, for it is I, not my people, who foolishly have forgotten Thy Commandments. It is Azokēon and I who have forgotten that Ento and Ento's children are Thine, and that all men are our brothers. For him and for myself I implore Thy mercy, and Thy pardon, and henceforth, as we may do unto others, so do Thou unto us;" and Azokēon's Raû, Raû, Raû, was as fervent as his own. While they prayed the awful tempest raged, and the face of nature was as a distorted mask, then as suddenly as the tempest had burst upon the assembled armies, so suddenly came a lull in its activities, and presently the fierce turmoil subsided into comparative quiet, and slowly from his shining abode, Andûmana̤ drew away the dark cloud drapery, and a glorious effulgence irradiated the woful scene of the prostrate and stricken armies. At the same moment the archway to the entrance of Astranola̤ became visible to the eyes of the adoring Sovereigns and their soldiery. Stooping, Azokēon raised Mēdos to his feet, and as with extended arms and uplifted faces, they reverently gazed upon the gloriously beautiful archway, Azokēon's trembling lips brokenly murmured, "To Thee, Thou Supreme One, Who art All seeing, All knowing, and to Thy Messengers the Deific ones, to whom the thoughts and deeds of men are known, we, Azokēon and Mēdos, vow that as through Thy pitying love for Thy erring children, Thou hast not utterly destroyed us and our people, but hast shown to us the glorious archway, the sign that Thy displeasure is turned away from us, we, on this spot, will build cities which shall be a memorial of Thy mercy to us, and a perpetual reminder that henceforth we and our people, side by side, shall dwell in peace and unity;" and with fervor Mēdos responded, "As Azokēon hath said, so may it be, and should I fail in the performance of this vow, may the Gods visit upon me and mine swift and certain destruction."
Thus through the dread visitation of an unparalleled tempest, those two conscience stricken and humbled Sovereigns arrived at an amicable adjustment of their several differences, and thereafter they not only sustained toward each other harmonious relations, but remembering their mutual vow to Andûmana̤ and His Messengers, at once they set about its fulfillment. We now will move to a more central position over the city.
Beneath us now is a stupendous Column, whose dimensions exceed those of the loftiest Light Towers of Ento, its coloring being quite as peculiar as that of the edifices of the city. From base to capital, the stones of which it is composed represent all the colors of the rainbow, but so delicate are the tones that they are more pearly suggestions of, than positive colors. When at nightfall those two great arches on its apex are aglow with iridescent lights, the effect is enchantingly beautiful. I have mentioned that the conference was held on the boundary line separating the two kingdoms, and on the spot where they had learned their Wisdom Lesson, Azokēon and Mēdos reared the Memorial Column, which to this day is one of the noted objects of Ento. Do I believe that Andûmana̤ inflicted the tempest upon them for the special purpose of affording them much needed lessons of humility and mutual forbearance? Certainly not, but I do believe that every mortal experience is fraught with beneficence for those wise enough to comprehend the plainly expressed Laws of The Infinite One, who is the embodiment of unerring, unchanging law.
The wide avenue in which the column stands was the line of division between the two kingdoms, and peace having been declared, Azokēon and Mēdos, in fulfillment of their vow, began the erection of the two cities which should be so closely adjoined as to present the appearance of one city, and which ever should be known as Bendolû-iffon Tylûsa̤a̤ (rainbow hued cities).
In this region, as in others of Ento, there are quarries of most beautiful marbles and stones, and in numerous caverns there are great deposits of what to the Entoans is known as Ingloita̤, possessing a range of exquisite colorings. These varied materials were and still are used in the construction of Bendolû-iffon. Some persons might question the taste of Azokēon and Mēdos in building iridescent cities, but to them the accomplishment in a marked manner of their vow to Andûmana̤ and the gods was the all important matter. In pursuance of this object they issued a joint decree that thenceforth and forever all persons erecting structures in Bendolû-iffon Tylûsa̤a̤ must build in harmony with the coloring of the Memorial Column, and thus far the decree has been observed. On the base of the column is inscribed the story of the war, of the storm, of the vow of Azokēon and Mēdos, of the appearing of the sign of peace, of the reconciliation of the two Sovereigns, and of the decree which should perpetually be observed lest Andûmana̤ might avenge himself for the infidelity of his children of Bendolû-iffon Tylûsa̤a̤.
At that time the religion of the Entoans included much that was deplorably irrational and superstitious, but you who have come to understand that the Spiritual or real man and the natural or animal man sustain toward each other a most complex relation, are aware that superstition is wholly of the lower or physical plane of Being. As the Dual man creature evolves into finer conditions the Ego, the Spiritual Self, is better able to manifest its higher attributes, thus, though the Entoans still observe the superstitious beliefs of their religion, Spiritually they have outgrown them, and at a fitting opportunity gladly they will discard them and quickly they will manifest that despite ancient usages, Priestly influences, fear of the Deific Ones and a lack of knowledge concerning the continuity of existence, they are a Spiritualized people. Yes, superstitions become involved in the mentality of humans, forming what may be termed hereditary tendencies or traits. Fear being a most forceful trait of the Entoans, no one has dared, or perhaps cared, to act in opposition to the Decree chiselled in yonder majestic Column, and not until the new religion shall have dispelled old superstitious beliefs will the Entoans venture upon freedom of thought and conduct which we trust will not lead to the effacement of the unique beauty of Bendolû-iffon Tylûsa̤a̤, which long has been known as Bendolû-iffon, for when the Government became Centralized, kingdoms went out of fashion and the two cities became one.
De L'Ester—We are pleased that you and Bernard are as charmed as ourselves with this matchlessly lovely iridescent city, and we, too, will hope that a lessening belief in imaginary Gods and other superstitions may not lead to a modernizing of its unique features. Yes, Earth contains marbles and stones presenting the same colorings, but they are not likely to serve architectural purposes, at least not to the extent of building of them an entire city. We cannot now devote further time to Bendolû-iffon, but our future is all before us, so we only will say to it au revoir, for ere long we will return and you, Gentola̤, and this interested lad will be with us.
Now we will journey toward Yoitan-dylû (tempest tossed), which lies directly eastward. It is a long, narrow, very salt sea, and it is the most tempestuous water of the Planet. Once it was a great body of water, but gradually during passing centuries it has so decreased in extent and depth as to have become one of Ento's smaller salt seas. A little higher, George. Now glance backward. Is not the scene wonderfully beautiful? Over the receding city and over the ruffled surface of Phoemadon a luminous, opalescent veil has fallen and the scene is vanishing, vanishing, and now—it is gone.
In a certain locality on the northern shore of Yoitan-dylû we will find our friend Sylvian, who will inform us of affairs at Da̤o. Yes, we were there this morning and perceived that the hour of Valloa̤'s departure is very nigh. Why do not we go there at once? For the reason that it would not be well to subject you to the powerful influences concentrating there. Were you physically strong we might venture to do so; as it is, your vitality must be conserved for a special occasion.
Inland about four English miles from Yoitan-dylû are the noted ruins of an ancient city whose principal features are several immense statues. Very ancient Ento Spirits say that the now arid regions surrounding the ruins of a great city were in their time sufficiently productive for the sustenance of a large agricultural population, but for many centuries they have not been inhabitable. The name of the city was Tena̤va̤h, and once the waves of Yoitan-dylû tumultuously rushed to its very feet, and to it at stated times, from all over the Planet, came multitudes of people to offer and to witness sacrifices to Andûmana̤ and the lesser Deities. When we shall have reached the ruins Zenesta̤ will tell us something concerning them. Yes, the underlying lands present the same desolate appearance as others that we have traversed. Here and there springs of pure water well up, supplemented by deep borings which furnish a limited water supply, rendering somewhat productive small areas of land, which afford a precarious subsistence for small communities of frugal and industrious people, but were it not that the general Government keeps over these isolated peoples a paternal supervision they would not be able to sustain themselves. A special air Transport service holds them in touch with other portions of the Planet, bearing to them such commodities as they require, in turn carrying away the surplusage of their several industries. As it is the fixed policy of the General Government to carry the Irrigating and Waterways System around the Planet, in time these fertile localities will become a part of the System. No, it will not be very long before this will occur, for by far the heaviest portion of the stupendous work already is accomplished. Owing to the many rocky formations existing between Camarissa̤ and Etzoina̤ Loisa̤ the undertaking thus far has been very arduous, the remaining work will be far easier of accomplishment. Indoloisa̤, Etzoina̤, Phoemadon, Yoitan-dylû and other bodies of water lying within the area of the system will obviate the necessity of excavations for the Waterways. Through hydraulic and mechanical engineering all bodies of salt water are kept within their own bounds, only fresh water being permitted to flow in the Waterways and Irrigating Canals.
Slowly, George, and we will descend a little. Gentola̤, what do you now see?
Gentola—Upon an immense oblong platform, which is quite elevated above the level of the sandy plain, I see one, two, three, four, five, six, seven enormously large statues. On the raised centre of the platform is a statue very much larger than the others. Its proportions are indeed gigantic, and its form and features are so finely modelled, so majestically beautiful that it seems incredible that mortals could have fashioned it. Above the forehead of this colossal statue is a golden Sun, its rays set close with jewels which gleam and scintillate as though endued with life. In its extended right hand is a great cluster of golden rodels, and in the less extended, partly closed left hand is what appears to be a large golden egg. The other statues are very beautiful; three are male and three are female figures, at whose feet are altars in the form of great oblong basins. Why is it that the platform, the altars and the statues are so perfectly preserved and only fragmentary ruins of the great city remain?
Zenesta—Before replying to your question allow me to say that the founding of this ruined city antedated the Establishment of the National Government and Religion, and that aside from what has been learned through the inscriptions on the base of the platform and on the altars to the Entoans of to-day, its history is little more than legendary. On our side of life we possess its authentic history. That you and Bernard may obtain a clearer view of the statues we will descend.
Now you perceive that though the foundation of the platform is of stone its upper portion upon which the statues stand is of a non-corrosive metal known as Sauva̤. The central figure represents Andûmana̤, the Supreme One. The three female figures on His right, and the three male figures on His left hand, are Deific Ones of Astranola̤. Yes, the coloring of the statues is very fine. Enamelling is an art in which the Entoans excel. Observe that the statues are composed of sections so nicely adjusted as to be nearly imperceptible. De L'Ester says that the metal is very like what you term bronze.
As briefly as possible I will relate somewhat of the history of the ruined city and of the temple of which this great altar and these wonderfully fine statues were features. Yes, this that you have thought a platform is an altar.
At a period when the equatorial regions were yet to a degree fertile Kēhoivas Edda, the sovereign of the most powerful nation of Ento, resolved to build on this spot a magnificent Temple and altar of sacrifice to the Supreme One and his chiefest Messengers, and in pursuance of this resolve he issued a proclamation, requesting all other sovereigns to join him in this pious undertaking. At this time, between the various races of Ento, wars were of frequent occurrence, and Kēhoivas Edda proposed that during the building of the Temple, and thereafter at stated periods, all wars and animosities of whatever nature for a certain number of days should cease, that thus all of Andûmana̤'s children might pass to and from the temple to their own places without fear of molestation. Calling upon Andûmana̤ and His Messengers to bear witness to his sincerity he declared that for all time the Temple, which should be known as Infadoihan-lûvētas (place of sacrifice), should belong to the several nations of Ento. Kēhoivas Edda, being the most powerful Sovereign of Ento, and his purpose a most pious one, his proposal received universal acceptance, and very soon from all parts of Ento came a multitude of artisans and laborers to assist in the building of the Temple. Each nation contributing according to its means, quickly vast treasure and material for the undertaking accumulated and within two Ento years the great temple reared its majestic beauty above the loftiest structures of the wide spreading city.
During the building of the temple, and for many succeeding years, almost universal peace prevailed, and through many centuries the fires of those great altars consumed many, many victims of the dread superstitions of perverted religious ideas. Could these mute statues relate the story of the tragedies enacted upon their altars, we would turn away in horror from their recitals of scenes upon which loving, pitiful spirits once gazed and wept. You perceive that each statue has its own altar upon which special sacrifices were offered. On the altar of the statue representing Andûmana̤ the Supreme One, the fairest and dearest of Ento's youths and maidens were sacrificed. On the altars of His six servitors animals set apart for the sacred purpose were burned. Other altars, no longer in existence, scarcely sufficed to contain the profusion of precious things and of grains, fruits and flowers offered for the purpose of securing the kind offices of the Gods and Goddesses of Astranola̤. Happily all this is of a bygone day, and even the ruins of the grandest Temple of that ancient time have nearly disappeared. The massive walls, the towering dome, the many huge columns, the great interior, enriched by all that treasure could command or art could produce, all, all, long since have been scattered abroad or buried beneath the shifting sands of this desert waste. Only these indestructible statues, the great altar supporting them, with here and there a broken column or a fragment of sculpture hints of the vanished glories of Infa̤doiha̤n lûvēta̤s and of the great city Tena̤va̤h.
Previous to the building of the Temple, and for centuries afterward, the Entoans scarcely realized the increasing aridity of the soil of the equatorial countries. Thus while they gloried in and bore to the altars of their great and beautiful Temple their most valued possessions, the already greatly lowered mountains were growing less majestic, elevations imperceptibly were becoming levelled, valleys were being filled to the level of the plains, and flowing streams were being lost or diverted from their courses. The changes of centuries are as the long, long thoughts of the Infinite Mind. They go forward, perhaps almost imperceptibly, but they go forward.
Thus in time the region about Tena̤va̤h grew infertile, and gradually the population drew away to more favorable lands. The multitudes who, during many centuries, had journeyed to the Temple to worship and to offer sacrifices, gradually ceased their attendance. The altar fires which, during centuries, had glowed incessantly, burned fitfully, then died away and the Temple fell into disuse, then into decay, its treasures serving for the enrichment of other shrines. With disuse of the Temple, Tena̤va̤h became entirely deserted, and for centuries past its ruins have found sepulture beneath the shifting sands, which, ere long, through the influence of the beneficent system, will yield up many buried pages of its history.
Now I will reply to your question. These statues are regarded with such reverential awe that ever the Priesthood have protested against their removal elsewhere, and the Government sees to it that at stated times competent persons are dispatched to this lonely spot to clear away drifting sands and to keep them and the altars in perfect repair.
From Entoans who recently have come into our Spirit Realms, we learn that when the system shall have reached this locality, on this spot the Government will erect another Temple. Is it too much to hope for, too much to expect, that it will be dedicated to the One Whose chiefest attribute is love?
De L'Ester—We will hope that it may be so. This we know, that no more on these altars will the crime of human sacrifice be perpetrated. These survivals of a tragic past do well to observe perpetual silence, for if they might even whisper the story of the atrocities committed in their names, the more enlightened, gentler Entoans of to-day would shrink from it in horror.
Now we must be up and away. Gentola̤, of all the scenes you have observed, none, I think, have appeared so utterly lonely, so pathetically forsaken as this verdureless plain and those sombre, gigantic statues standing like silent sentinels over the buried city and temple.
We now will follow northward the western shore of Yoitan-dylû, and shortly we will arrive at some irrigated lands and an inconsiderable and rather modern city named Crysta̤ Fûyon, the name of its founder, and it is the capital city of this province, A-Shinoh. Yes, those green, luxuriant growths are in strong contrast to the adjoining desert lands. No, they are not irrigated by the water of Yoitan-dylû. You forget that it is a salt sea. To procure water for irrigation and for the service of the city, Crysta̤ Fûyon instituted a system of artesian wells, which was not difficult of accomplishment, as at no great depth, even under desert lands, there is an abundance of water.
George, for a few moments we will pause here. Yes, it is an attractive scene. In the near distance is Yoitan-dylû, on whose foam capped waves vessels of various kinds are tossing on their ways, and on its hither shore is white Crysta̤ Fûyon, with its beautiful snowy temple and many fine structures. On its landward side the city and its pretty suburban homes are surrounded by the luxuriant greenery of grains, grasses, fruit-bearing and other trees, and a wealth of blooming shrubs, vines and plants. Certainly Crysta̤ Fûyon, the founder of the city and of the Irrigating System which has reclaimed many miles of arid lands, deserves high praise for his efforts. Oh, yes, for over half an Ento century he has been on the spirit side, yet his interest in the city and its fortunes is unabated. Ah, Sylvian and Inidora̤ are coming to meet us.
Inidora—Lohaû, lohaû, ēmanos.
De L'Ester—Hail, and a loving welcome for you, dear friends.
Sylvian—And for you all our hearts speak a fond greeting. No, we have not long awaited your coming, but long enough for Inidora̤ to relate to my willing ears the story of his unlooked for finding of his other self and his attempts to establish a mutual rapport, in which, happily, to a degree, he has succeeded. What word do I bring you from Da̤o? It is that for the present your journeyings must cease. Valloa̤ is about to pass into our Spirit Realms, and in anticipation of the event which can no longer be delayed, a vast number of our friends of many Planetary Spirit Realms have assembled to witness and to aid in the anticipated successful culmination of our Mission. That it will be successful we no longer doubt. Valloa̤ and Dano now fully realize that life does not end with death of the body, and in a measure this assurance assuages the sorrow of their approaching brief separation. For Omanos Fûnha̤ there is but one step to be taken, when gladly he, too, will embrace the faith that will assure him of the existence of another world, where he will find his dear ones. Unconsciously he and many others are shrinking away from the old dread beliefs, and light from Spirit Realms is penetrating their consciousness and inspiring them with the hope that at last Andûmana̤ has heard their importunate cries and is about to grant them continuous existence.
Valloa̤ now scarcely animates her physical body, and like an imprisoned bird she struggles for freedom, yet even as she tries to escape, her beautiful eyes, full of love and pity, turn to her despairing father, then upon her grief stricken lover, Dano Andûlēsa̤, who kneels by her couch murmuring words of tenderness and covering her cold hands with tears and kisses. His Spirit vision has grown very clear and as in bewilderment he gazes upon the partially freed Valloa̤, then upon the wasted form he so long has adored, in piteous tones he cries, "Valloa̤, Valloa̤, whither goest thou? I see thee, and thou art escaping from thy body, and thou art not dead. Oh, thou dread mystery death, take me, oh take me too, for wheresoever my love may go, I, too, would go." Then again he cries, "Woman, woman of another world, come to me, come to me. Thou didst promise that in the supreme hour of trial thou wouldst come to me. Oh, come and teach to me the meaning of death." And thus the pitiful scene repeats itself, and the change is very near.
Gentola̤, the time has arrived for our departure for Da̤o, and soon in the presence of Omanos Fûnha̤ and those about him, you, through the departing Valloa̤ and her affianced, Prince Dano, will proclaim the glad tidings that death of the physical body affords release of the immortal Spirit. That life is unending, and that in a World unseen of mortal eyes all surely will find their loved ones whom they had mourned as having gone into eternal Silence.
Among those about the couch of Valloa̤ is Ozynas Dûlsa̤, the Most High Priest of the Temple Zim, which you may know is the most sacred of Ento's Temples. Through purity of life and most ascetic habits this Most High Priest has to an unusual degree developed the Senses of Clairvoyance and Clairaudience, and when he shall come to understand their real meaning he will become a powerful force in the introduction of the new religion. Perhaps you are aware that all humans possess these senses, and that under favorable conditions all may exercise them. No, the case of this Priest is not exceptional. All high Priests are chosen for the position because of their supposed ability to hold converse with the Deific Ones. That they hold converse with discarnated Spirits is true, and naturally you may wonder why they and the peoples have not learned of the continuity of existence. The reason is obvious. Since ancient times a harsh, unyielding religious creed has held in bondage both Priests and peoples, and lest the Gods might call them to a fearful account for their impiety, none have dared to assail it. Such Spirit communications as from time to time the Priests have received, if opposed to the creed, have been dismissed as mere hallucinations, but when in harmony with the creed they have been regarded as of Divine origin. Without such intervention as our Mission proposes this unhappy condition must indefinitely continue, but when, through such evidence as the Mission will offer, Omanos Fûnha̤ and those nearest him shall have accepted the new faith, the way will be made clear for Priests and peoples to follow the light which shall lead them into ways of greater happiness than ever they have dreamed of.
Ozynas Dûlsa̤, who is nearing the threshold of truth, is a courageous, eloquent and very spiritual man. Through recent experiences of Valloa̤ and Dano he is so nearly convinced of the continuity of existence that he is ready to battle against the old faith and for the reception of the new religion, whose heralds noiselessly but determinedly are approaching the sorrowful peoples, resolved to dissipate the darkness which ever has enshrouded their lives.
Now look straight ahead and in a moment you will perceive the dim outlines of the lofty domes and loftier Light and Signal Towers of Ento's capital city. To the left of the loftiest Signal Tower which overlooks the city is the residence of the Supreme Rulers of Ento, and where now Spirit hosts are concentrating their forces, and where very soon you will be the central figure of what to you and this dear youth will be a strange drama. I much regret my inability to converse with you directly, but I trust that our mutual friend has made my meaning clear to you.
De L'Ester—I believe that I have correctly translated all that you have said, and now that the momentous hour has arrived for a brief time our Sensitive must return to her home so that she may arrange for an unusually prolonged absence from her physical body. Within a half hour we will meet you near or in the palace.
Info oovistû.
Gentola̤, George and I will swiftly bear you to your home, where I shall have something of moment to say to you. You will close your eyes, for we shall traverse the space between Ento and Earth with utmost speed. Ah, ah. That is well. Now unclose your eyes, for you are safe within your quiet, darkened room, and no one but the faithful Vena is in the house, and she is preparing to leave it, but you will request her to remain at home, for you must not be left unattended. Now listen attentively to what I shall say. As you have learned, but do not now clearly remember, Valloa̤, daughter of Omanos Fûnha̤, Osy Hûn, is about to pass into Ento's Spirit Realms, and that success may attend the Mission of Love in which you and we are engaged, we must ask you to unreservedly submit yourself to our requirements. Rest assured that we will guard you carefully, and by all that is Divine we pledge ourselves that you shall not be tried beyond your strength. To prevent possible injury, we desire that you shall charge Vena to, on no account, permit any one to enter the house during your submergement, and that will occupy six, probably seven, hours. Say to her that she must not attend the door bell or open the door of your room, and do so at once, for we must hasten our return to Ento.
Gentola—I have instructed Vena to remain in the house, to allow no one to enter it, and to leave me undisturbed until five o'clock, which will be seven hours hence.
De L'Ester—We have heard your conversation with the girl, who is in a state of nervous alarm lest some evil may befall you. Ask her to lower the window shade in the adjoining room. Some rays of light are penetrating the desired darkness of this one, and it may be well to further reassure her, so that she may not feel impelled to disturb you. That is well, and all things being arranged to our satisfaction we at once will depart. Close your eyes and render yourself passive. You are not afraid?
Gentola—Not afraid, but a little nervous. As I ever have found you true to your word, I will trust you to the end.
De L'Ester—That you safely may do, for aside from all other considerations we greatly desire that you shall yet a while remain on the Earth plane, that with your approval we may make further use of your peculiar phase of Mediumship. We have not labored all these years to fit you for a definite purpose to now willfully permit injury of our Instrument. You may believe, too, that in our demands upon your time and strength for the furtherance of our Mission, we are not actuated by selfish motives, and in time you will understand that if you have suffered and practiced much self-denial, we, too, have sacrificed much that we might aid in the accomplishment of what you and we regard as a sacred duty. Now you are tranquil and we are ready for our flight to Ento.
You now may unclose your eyes for we are nearing Da̤o, and you may perceive its many stately structures, whose domes and towers are in relief against a background of cloudless azure sky. We now will approach the Palace, which you will observe is enveloped in a shining, mistlike aural cloud, within which a host of exalted Spirits are aiding in the Spiritual unfoldment of Omanos Fûnha̤ and others who, ere long, will proclaim to the peoples of Ento the glorious truth that the Spirit, the real Self, survives the change called death. When presently we shall enter within the aural cloud you will clearly see what you never—But I must not anticipate, and you will strive to regain your usual tranquillity.
One seldom sees a more artistic structure than this massive, stately, harmoniously designed residence of the Supreme Rulers of Ento, its lovely surroundings affording an admirable setting for such a gem of architecture. Indeed the entire city is an architectural dream. It strictly is a residence city, though of necessity in it are bazaars and marts containing all that is finest and best pertaining to art, manufactured wares and natural products. No, it is not an extensive city, the population not exceeding a half million, but it is the richest city of Ento, and one of the oldest.
Now you are quieted and we will join our Band within the aural cloud.
Gentola—De L'Ester, friends, wait a moment; I believe I am frightened. Oh, who are those wonderfully beautiful Beings? Are they Angels or are they Spirits? Oh, I am overwhelmed by the amazing spectacle.
De L'Ester—Tranquillize yourself, I pray you, tranquillize yourself; none but loving friends are here. Those radiant Beings are exalted Spirits from many Spirit Worlds, and conditions are such that for the first time during our Mission you see Spirits as they really are. You are aware that the physical body is composed of grosser elements of substance, and the Spirit body of elements more refined, the elemental quality of the Spirit body depending upon the manner of existence of the mortal, so you readily may conclude that those Spirits are of an exalted plane, else they would not present such a glorified appearance, neither would they be able to serve the purpose for which they have assembled. Adonēon, the leader of a Band, desires to address you.
Adoneon—Trembling one from the Earth-world, the Sorrowful Star, upon which I, too, once dwelt, I pray you to accept our gentlest, our most loving greeting. Once we all existed in mortal forms, but having been freed from physical expression we present to your unaccustomed gaze an appearance which startles and occasions you some trepidation. Will it calm your disquietude if I say that could you see yourself as we see you, you would be as greatly amazed at your real appearance as you are at our own. Then be at peace, for as we are, you some time will be, and then, as now, gladly you will serve the lowliest of the human Brotherhood. Gentola̤, you are rightly named, for only one of kindliest nature would risk the severance of the ties of your present Embodiment, that thus you may aid this Mission of Loving endeavor. You desire to learn somewhat of my earthly history. As you will, but it must be as the merest fragment of the whole.
Rome was my birthplace, and I was the only child of persons of distinction. From my earliest youth I revolted against the gross licentiousness and debauchery, not only of the masses, but of those in highest places, whose criminally bestial orgies were beyond description, vile and demoralizing. My parents, too, shrank in horror and disgust from a condition of society which words cannot express. So did others, but those who dare oppose themselves against the example of the conscienceless Emperor Nero, and his equally conscienceless courtiers, did so at the peril of life and estate. Through his intolerable tyranny I, with other youths of the best blood of Rome, were driven to plot rebellion against his misrule, and when our hopes of success were at the highest, a treacherous youth betrayed us and we were arrested and sentenced to death in the arena. My beloved father was shorn of his rank and possessions, and with my gentle mother, was driven into exile, which they did not long survive. But Nero, the insane, brutal tyrant, the ferocious, drunken beast, and the curse of his unhappy time; Nero, who made human agony his pastime, still lived to gleefully laugh while naked, empty handed victims were cast into the arena to be torn limb from limb by creatures no more savage, no more relentless than the insensate wretch who gloated over the horrible scene. Earth has not harbored a more ignoble mortal than he who styled himself, and indeed regarded himself, as the "Divine Cæsar."
When the hour of my agony arrived, I, with many others, one a fair girl scarcely beyond childhood, were driven to our doom. Some, through terror, swooned into merciful oblivion, others shrieked wildly and pitifully, frantically strove to escape from the great beasts who tore them into fragments, and still others instinctively fought for life, or coweringly shrank from their hideous fate. But not I, not I. As an enormous lion rushed like an avalanche from the opened door of his cage, the young girl clung to me for protection. One glance at her wide open eyes and terror stricken, lovely face, round which her golden hair fell in curling profusion, inspired me with courage born of pity and despair. Putting her behind me, I strode toward the lion, my burning, unwavering gaze meeting the glowing eyes of the famished and enraged beast, and for a moment the crouching creature hesitated, and Nero shouted and clapped his jewelled hands. The next instant the lion launched himself against my naked form and in another moment I was freed and beyond the reach of the cruelest of all creatures—the human animal.
After the lapse of half a thousand of your years, at my own desire, and for a purpose, the Angels of the Visitation found me a birthplace on the glorious planet Jupiter. Your astronomers would question this statement. They do not take into account the fact that necessarily they possess but a limited knowledge of the constitution and conditions of the Planets of our Solar System, or of the Beings who may inhabit them, and they do not recognize the more important fact that Spirit, the Life Principle, is indestructible, and that it possesses the ability of adjusting itself to other environments than those of Earth. From Jupiter's Spirit Realms I, and these my comrades have come to aid in this attempt to bring Spiritual enlightenment to the sorrowful children of Ento. Our Band of nine Spirits will endeavor to come into harmonious relations with Omanos Fûnha̤. To other Bands of Spirits from other Planetary Spheres have been assigned special duties. Upon De L'Ester and his Band will rest the responsibility of controlling and directing you. As far as possible our plans have been perfected, and the supreme moment having arrived, may the Divine, Intelligent, All Potent One direct and aid us in our endeavor to fulfill the Law of Love.
De L'Ester—Gentola̤, now that you have grown tranquil, we will enter the apartment of the passing Valloa̤. Be attentive while I inform you as to who some of the assembled personages are, then you will describe the surroundings of this pitiful scene. Later, your deeper submergence will oblige me to continue a narration of what may occur. Do you understand?
Gentola—I do, and shall try to meet your wishes. I find myself standing at the foot of Valloa̤'s couch, which is near the centre of the very spacious apartment, whose walls and ceiling are marvels of beauty. Upon their ivory white surfaces are sprays of exquisite blossoms so true to nature that it seems as though one might gather them from their delicate foliage. Rich tapestries of palest blue, combined with snowy laces, drape the lofty windows, and fluted panels of the same tapestry separate the flower designs on walls and ceiling, the effect being very refined and beautiful. On opposing sides of the apartment great mirrors are let into the walls, their frames and the woodwork of doors and windows being in white and gold and the floor is such an exquisitely dainty mosaic that it seems a profanation to step on it. There are some very beautiful divans and chairs and a large, handsome table which, with the exception of the lovely couch on which Valloa̤ lies, completes the furnishing of the apartment.
Through a window from which the drapery is drawn aside the light falls upon a young girl whose angelically lovely face is framed in a mass of curling, golden hair. It is the face of the young girl you once showed me in a picture, but it is more mature, more expressive, more spirituelle, than the pictured face. The soft, fleecy, white couch clothing outlines a tall, slender form, somewhat emaciated, but modelled most beautifully, and as she lifts her hands to push away from her low, wide forehead her shining hair, I see that they are as white as lilies and exceedingly shapely. On one side of the couch sits Omanos Fûnha̤, a majestic, very handsome, dark skinned man of about middle age. On the other side of the couch kneels Dano, his mournful gaze fixed upon the face of the dying girl, whose expression is serene but very pathetic. In Dano's clasp is her left hand, which he holds against his tremulous lips. With her right hand she fondly but feebly caresses her father's stately head, bowed near her own, and her large, beautiful azure hued eyes look into his despairing face, then turn toward the sorrowful face of her affianced, and she murmurs low, broken words of endearment for both. Dano's father, Basto Andûlēsa̤, who, with bowed head and folded arms, stands near the head of the couch, is a picture of woe. By Dano's side stands his mother, a very tall, olive skinned, strikingly handsome woman, whom her son closely resembles. On her face is an expression of great tenderness, as she whispers fondly pitiful words to the dying girl, who gently touches her face and smiles up at her. Suddenly, with a quivering moan and a look of terror in her dark eyes, she draws away, but quickly recovers herself, and again she stoops to murmur loving words to Valloa̤ and to Dano, upon whose dark, flowing hair her tears fall like rain. Near Omanos Fûnha̤ stands the Most High Priest Ozynas Dûlsa̤, and what a singularly grand looking man he is. He is taller than any Entoan I have seen; taller even than Omanos Fûnha̤ whom I think he resembles. As he stands erect, silent and motionless, he looks like a draped bronze statue. There is a peculiar expression on his quiet face, a sort of introspective expression which suggests the thought that he is questioning himself as to the mystery of death, whose dread shadow is stealing over the beautiful face of Valloa̤.