ANIMULA

The three months succeeding Simon's catastrophe I devoted night and

day to my diamond lens. I had constructed a vast, galvanic battery,

composed of nearly two thousand pairs of plates,--a higher power I

dared not use, lest the diamond should be calcined. By means of this

enormous engine I was enabled to send a powerful current of

electricity continually through my great diamond, which it seemed to

me gained in lustre every day. At the expiration of a month I

commenced the grinding and polishing of the lens, a work of intense

toil and exquisite delicacy. The great density of the stone, and the

care required to be taken with the curvatures of the surfaces of the

lens, rendered the labor the severest and most harassing that I had

yet undergone.

At last the eventful moment came; the lens was completed. I stood

trembling on the threshold of new worlds. I had the realization of

Alexander's famous wish before me. The lens lay on the table, ready

to be placed upon its platform, my hand fairly shook as I enveloped

a drop of water with a thin coating of oil of turpentine, preparatory

to its examination--a process necessary in order to prevent the

rapid evaporation of the water. I now placed the drop on a thin slip

of glass under the lens, and throwing upon it, by the combined aid

of a prism and a mirror, a powerful stream of light, I approached my

eye to the minute hole drilled through the axis of the lens. For an

instant I saw nothing save what seemed to be an illuminated chaos, a

vast luminous abyss. A pure white light, cloudless and serene, and

seemingly limitless as space itself, was my first impression. Gently,

and with the greatest care, I depressed the lens a few hairs'

breadths. The wondrous illumination still continued, but as the lens

approached the object, a scene of indescribable beauty was unfolded

to my view.

I seemed to gaze upon a vast space, the limits of which extended far

beyond my vision. An atmosphere of magical luminousness permeated

the entire field of view. I was amazed to see no trace of

animalculous life. Not a living thing, apparently, inhabited that

dazzling expanse. I comprehended instantly, that, by the wondrous

power of my lens, I had penetrated beyond the grosser particles of

aqueous matter, beyond the realms of Infusoria and Protozoa, down to

the original gaseous globule, into whose luminous interior I was

gazing, as into an almost boundless dome filled with a supernatural

radiance.

It was, however, no brilliant void into which I looked. On every

side I beheld beautiful inorganic forms, of unknown texture, and

colored with the most enchanting hues. These forms presented the

appearance of what might be called, for want of a more specific

definition, foliated clouds of the highest rarity; that is, they

undulated and broke into vegetable formations, and were tinged with

splendors compared with which the gilding of our autumn woodlands is

as dross compared with gold. Far away into the illimitable distance

stretched long avenues of these gaseous forests, dimly transparent,

and painted with prismatic hues of unimaginable brilliancy. The

pendent branches waved along the fluid glades until every vista

seemed to break through half-lucent ranks of many-colored drooping

silken pennons. What seemed to be either fruits or flowers, pied

with a thousand hues lustrous and ever varying, bubbled from the

crowns of this fairy foliage. No hills, no lakes, no rivers, no

forms animate or inanimate were to be seen, save those vast auroral

copses that floated serenely in the luminous stillness, with leaves

and fruits and flowers gleaming with unknown fires, unrealizable by

mere imagination.

How strange, I thought, that this sphere should be thus condemned to

solitude! I had hoped, at least, to discover some new form of animal

life,--perhaps of a lower class than any with which we are at

present acquainted,--but still, some living organism. I find my

newly discovered world, if I may so speak, a beautiful chromatic

desert.

While I was speculating on the singular arrangements of the internal

economy of Nature, with which she so frequently splinters into atoms

our most compact theories, I thought I beheld a form moving slowly

through the glades of one of the prismatic forests. I looked more at

tentively, and found that I was not mistaken. Words cannot depict

the anxiety with which I awaited the nearer approach of this

mysterious object. Was it merely some inanimate substance, held in

suspense in the attenuated atmosphere of the globule? or was it an

animal endowed with vitality and motion? It approached, flitting

behind the gauzy, colored veils of cloud-foliage, for seconds dimly

revealed, then vanishing. At last the violet pennons that trailed

nearest to me vibrated; they were gently pushed aside, and the form

floated out into the broad light.

It was a female human shape. When I say "human," I mean it possessed

the outlines of humanity,--but there the analogy ends. Its adorable

beauty lifted it inimitable heights beyond the loveliest daughter of

Adam.

I cannot, I dare not, attempt to inventory the charms of this divine

revelation of perfect beauty. Those eyes of mystic violet, dewy and

serene, evade my words. Her long lustrous hair following her

glorious head in a golden wake, like the track sown in heaven by a

falling star, seems to quench my most burning phrases with its

splendors. If all the bees of Hybla nestled upon my lips, they would

still sing but hoarsely the wondrous harmonies of outline that

enclosed her form.

She swept out from between the rainbow-curtains of the cloud-trees

into the broad sea of light that lay beyond. Her motions were those

of some graceful Naiad, cleaving, by a mere effort of her will, the

clear, unruffled waters that fill the chambers of the sea. She

floated forth with the serene grace of a frail bubble ascending

through the still atmosphere of a June day. The perfect roundness of

her limbs formed suave and enchanting curves. It was like listening

to the most spiritual symphony of Beethoven the divine, to watch the

harmonious flow of lines. This, indeed, was a pleasure cheaply

purchased at any price. What cared I, if I had waded to the portal

of this wonder through another's blood? I would have given my own to

enjoy one such moment of intoxication and delight.

Breathless with gazing on this lovely wonder, and forgetful for an

instant of everything save her presence, I withdrew my eye from the

microscope eagerly,--alas! As my gaze fell on the thin slide that

lay beneath my instrument, the bright light from mirror and from

prism sparkled on a colorless drop of water! There, in that tiny

bead of dew, this beautiful being was forever imprisoned. The planet

Neptune was not more distant from me than she. I hastened once more

to apply my eye to the microscope.

Animula (let me now call her by that dear name which I subsequently

bestowed on her) had changed her position. She had again approached

the wondrous forest, and was gazing earnestly upwards. Presently one

of the trees--as I must call them--unfolded a long ciliary process,

with which it seized one of the gleaming fruits that glittered on

its summit, and sweeping slowly down, held it within reach of Animula.

The sylph took it in her delicate hand, and began to eat. My

attention was so entirely absorbed by her, that I could not apply

myself to the task of determining whether this singular plant was or

was not instinct with volition.

I watched her, as she made her repast, with the most profound

attention. The suppleness of her motions sent a thrill of delight

through my frame; my heart beat madly as she turned her beautiful

eyes in the direction of the spot in which I stood. What would I not

have given to have had the power to precipitate myself into that

luminous ocean, and float with her through those groves of purple

and gold! While I was thus breathlessly following her every movement,

she suddenly started, seemed to listen for a moment, and then

cleaving the brilliant ether in which she was floating, like a flash

of light, pierced through the opaline forest, and disappeared.

Instantly a series of the most singular sensations attacked me. It

seemed as if I had suddenly gone blind. The luminous sphere was

still before me, but my daylight had vanished. What caused this

sudden disappearance? Had she a lover, or a husband? Yes, that was

the solution! Some signal from a happy fellow-being had vibrated

through the avenues of the forest, and she had obeyed the summons.

The agony of my sensations, as I arrived at this conclusion,

startled me. I tried to reject the conviction that my reason forced

upon me. I battled against the fatal conclusion--but in vain. It was

so. I had no escape from it. I loved an animalcule!

It is true, that, thanks to the marvellous power of my microscope,

she appeared of human proportions. Instead of presenting the

revolting aspect of the coarser creatures, that live and struggle

and die, in the more easily resolvable portions of the water-drop,

she was fair and delicate and of surpassing beauty. But of what

account was all that? Every time that my eye was withdrawn from the

instrument, it fell on a miserable drop of water, within which, I

must be content to know, dwelt all that could make my life lovely.

Could she but see me once! Could I for one moment pierce the

mystical walls that so inexorably rose to separate us, and whisper

all that filled my soul, I might consent to be satisfied for the rest

of my life with the knowledge of her remote sympathy. It would be

something to have established even the faintest personal link to

bind us together--to know that at times, when roaming through those

enchanted glades, she might think of the wonderful stranger, who had

broken the monotony of her life with his presence, and left a gentle

memory in her heart!

But it could not be. No invention, of which human intellect was

capable, could break down the barriers that Nature had erected. I

might feast my soul upon her wondrous beauty, yet she must always

remain ignorant of the adoring eyes that day and night gazed upon her,

and, even when closed, beheld her in dreams. With a bitter cry of

anguish I fled from the room, and, flinging myself on my bed, sobbed

myself to sleep like a child.