CHAPTER XXI.

The Life on Wings.

As I darted from world to world, I was not then fully conscious of the

vast stretches of space that I had covered. No mortal nor angel tongue

can even commence to describe the vastness of created things and the

trackless oceans of space in which the ponderous suns and planets

revolve.

According to the classification of our astronomers I next found myself

in the constellation of Perseus, and was again convinced of the weakness

of our most powerful telescopes, for I now saw thousands of immense

stars, hitherto invisible to me. Not one of these stars is within a

trillion miles of any other.

In this distant system of our universe I saw that the same plan of

creation obtained. Around a majority of the stars a group of various

sized worlds revolves. On many of these worlds human life abounds in

endless degrees of development and in a countless variety of

manifestations. I marveled anew as I saw the endlessness of the Infinite

Mind, supporting not only the conscious life of this whole

constellation, but also of all the constellations of our universe, and

of all the universes scattered at large throughout the unending depths

of space.

I paused at a star of variable magnitude in the Milky Way, but took only

a passing glance at the physical wonders of this great sun, compared

with which our own Sun is a mere pigmy. Onward I hastened to one of the

larger worlds of this solar system which, for my convenience, I will

call Swift.

Here new wonders opened wide to my view. Human beings, charmingly

beautiful, moved over the face of the planet or on wings through the air

at pleasure and with great ease. These creatures are about three-fourths

of our size, and are most gracefully formed. Their whole physical

appearance is more similar to a bird than to a human being of our Earth.

They are relatively much lighter than we, and are covered with nothing

akin to feathers.

If you were to see them standing in their erect posture and walking

with man-like dignity, you would at once feel that they are the lords of

the creation on their world, and so indeed they are.

These ethereal creatures have the loveliest eyes of any human beings I

ever beheld in any world. They sparkle with the brilliancy of a diamond

and move with the quickness of electricity. The head is small but

symmetrical and all physical proportions are most harmoniously adapted

even to a nicety that would be pleasing to the most refined tastes of

our world.

At first I could not understand how these people of Swift could travel

so conveniently in the air, for their wings are very small and the

exertion when flying is very limited. But the lightness of the body, the

heaviness of the air, and the unusual strength of the Swiftites, each

conduces its share to the fortunate result.

In my thoughtlessness I envied these gifted people and wished that when

I would return to my world, I could enjoy such privileges of flight. I

soon checked this rising covetousness, and again contentment flung over

me its white mantle.

The bodies of these Swiftites are covered by nature with a clean growth

of soft, silken hair. They change their garments with the seasons, but

at all times dress very sparingly and neatly. They are so easily clothed

that all their apparel occasions them no more trouble than the more

seasonable covering of the head gives to our women.

The average length of life is nearly four hundred years of our time.

There are very few worlds in space where the general health of its

inhabitants is as perfect as is found on this beautiful planet. There

are but few doctors because there is but little demand for them. Those

who are engaged are under government service, and all persons who are

unfortunate enough to become ill receive at least all medicine and

professional attention free.

We are quite an exceptional world in our medical system. In all my

journey I saw comparatively only a few worlds that have the private

system of medical treatment. Have we not noted the laboring husband

bending at his toil for eight or ten hours to pay the physician who

calls for a few minutes? In some cases this program is continued for

weeks, until the honest toiler finds himself confronted with a doctor's

bill and medicine bill to haunt him until the debt is either forgiven or

paid at great sacrifice.

On the world of Swift and in the vast majority of civilized worlds in

space, the community or government furnishes a salaried physician within

reasonable reach of every home. The doctors of Swift are not expected to

work night and day. They have shifts to divide the toil equally.

In architecture this distant planet excels us by far. I improved the

opportunity and went to witness a magnificent temple of worship which

has been in process of erection for over two hundred years. Any conceit

that I previously had on account of the large structures of my own world

quickly vanished at the sight of this imposing edifice. During my visit

the winged workers were laboring on the upper stories and I watched them

with great wonderment as they descended from the clouds to carry

materials to the higher stories. Can you imagine the picture of workmen

flying in all directions with tools, each one busily employed? It is

promised that the present generation of employees will live to see the

completion of this notable structure.

This vast building is the national religious center of the Swiftites.

Each government has such a central station, and from it all temples of

worship are controlled. Here the church and the state are yet married,

and the state maintains its religious departments with careful scrutiny.

The chief ambition of each government has always been to outshine the

others in the glory and magnificence of its central temple which, of

course, is fire proof and almost time proof.

One may wonder as he gazes upon this extensive structure why there are

seventy thousand sleeping rooms and dining halls built after such

extensive plans as to entertain, at one time, twenty-five thousand

guests. All this is to accommodate the vast throngs that take their

sacred pilgrimage once in a year under an arrangement by which one tenth

of the able-bodied go each thirty-nine days, which corresponds to our

month.

The most notable feature of this central temple is the main service

room, built at fabulous cost and capable of accommodating one hundred

thousand pilgrims at one time. The most costly sections of this one room

are guarded night and day by armed government soldiers.

The religion of these Swiftites is of a very pure kind. The ministers of

this national church are fully equipped before entering upon their

office. The training schools for ministers attracted my closest

attention. Fortunately, these people have no language complications as

we have, so that a prospective minister can spend some of his time

studying the Book of God's Revelation instead of spending a great

portion of his training period in learning the languages in which the

book had once been written.

A minister's training consists as much in voice culture and the many

branches of elocution as it does in acquiring a correct knowledge of

God. But in illustrative teaching Swift leads us by far. I was

profitably entertained in the main temple as I listened to one of the

famous orators discoursing to an audience of eighty thousand. Not only

did his canary-like voice penetrate to all parts of the large room, but

his objective illustrations clinched the truth remarkably well.

A series of special services is held at the close of each month. The

most wonderful of all these exercises, or renditions, is called "The

Mediator Service." This is one of the most spectacular and impressive

exercises outside of Heaven. Even the famous Passion Play of

Oberammergau (our world) with the less glorious exhibitions at Horitz

and Selzach, all dwindle into insignificance compared with "The Mediator

Service" on the world of Swift.

During my visit I witnessed the full program of this sublime rendition.

The music was inexpressibly grand as rendered by the vested Mediator

Choir. Naturally the Swiftites have sweet, bird-like voices. Can you

conceive the effect of a triple choir of these human warblers all

trained in perfect harmony and unison?

When you consider that nearly the whole population witnesses these

special exhibitions at least once a year, you can the better understand

why the spiritual condition of the people has reached a high very level.

I investigated the many interesting features of this inviting world and

found that in some respects we are inferior to these human bird

creatures, although in many other respects we are superior. Electricity

is known in their world, but they have not yet harnessed it; hence they

are ignorant of telegraphy and a long list of similar inventions which

we enjoy.

In agriculture the Swiftites are ahead of us. They raise their crops

with less labor relatively than we. All things considered it is easier

to live on Swift than here.

Knowing that my time was limited, I decided to secure some nuggets of

truth by a personal interview; so I concluded to appear to the wisest

person on the planet, who was a woman of wonderful mental acquirements.

In addition to her superior intellect she was also bewitchingly

beautiful.

I waited for the best opportunity and came near to her as she was about

to spread her wings for a morning flight from the beautiful summit

near her summer home. Not wishing to cause her undue alarm, I at first

spoke softly, remaining invisible and watching her rare eyes send their

glances toward the palmy trees around me, as her wings were relaxing

quietly at her side. She was positive of having heard a voice, and as

she still further scanned the immediate surroundings I saw that

perplexity was furrowing marks upon her face.

[Illustration: Beautiful Plume on the World of Swift.]

"Hast thou time to spend with a friend from another world?" I calmly

inquired as I was still unseen by her.

She was nervously agitated, but being of strong fibre she quickly

rallied with her answer, "Where art thou and who art thou?"

"I am on a peace mission from a far distant world," I quietly said as I

slowly became visible to my audience of one.

Naturally she was alarmed at my appearance, and consequently I drew

gradually farther and farther away until she gained more self-possession

and turned interestingly toward me.

"Ah! how can you be a spirit without wings?" were her first unexpected

words.

"But I am no spirit," I said assuringly.

"You cannot be otherwise," she insisted.

"Believe what you wish, we have no time for parley. I am delighted to

visit your world and I desire, if possible, to have some mysteries

solved. Can you help me?"

Plume, for that is the name I called her, was much unsettled. She

scanned my form with wild curiosity and I feared that she would at once

use her wings at their swiftest.

"Pray do not fly hence," I quickly urged. "I will never harm you, even

though we could converse together forever. Believe me true, and rest

your wings and heart in peace."

My words had some effect toward calming her mind and with more placid

features she still looked at me half shrinkingly.

"Are you not happy that you have wings with which fly?" I continued,

hoping to create a more natural familiarity.

"Happy? No more than for my feet, my ears, or my life," she answered in

a more composed manner. "You say that you are from another world. Where

can that be?" was her welcome query.

Then I pointed my finger in the direction of our world and remarked:

"If you could travel in that direction on swift wings day and night for

a few millions of years, you would still be far, far away from the world

where I live."

"And is that world inhabited by sensible creatures?"

"It is."

"But how could you have traversed so great a distance?"

"Never can I explain that mystery to you. Be content that I am here."

"Are you in the image of the other human creatures in that far away

world?"

"In general they are all fashioned as I am."

"No one having wings?" she added with surprise.

"Not one."

"How can that be true?"

"Because we were made without them."

"And have you no way of moving through the air at pleasure?"

"Not without artificial machinery."

"Artificial machinery?" she repeated. "What can you mean by that?"

Of course they have no word for balloon or flying machine, and I found

it difficult to describe the shape and explain the philosophy of these

things. I did the best I could in her language, and after I had finished

my description she for the first time smiled and said:

"That sort of a construction would be a fine thing for the indolents of

our world who, through misuse or lack of use of their wings, have no

more ability to fly."

This was interesting to me and I closely inquired as to the cause of

this loss of the wing power. Plume grew more and more familiar in her

address and in a long conversation told me of the many conditions that

make people unfit to fly. I deduce from our conversation a few of these

causes.

1. Simple neglect.

2. Gluttonous life.

3. Sensuality of a low and heavy life.

4. Pride. Some yield to a superstitious notion that it is honorable to

make but little display of themselves, and allow their wings to be bound

or partly clipped.

5. Certain kinds of sickness render the wing-chords inoperative.

I learned that altogether nearly one-half of the population are unable

to fly. How my mind flew back to our own life as I was learning of these

sad conditions. There is a sort of a life on wings in our world,

although the wings are invisible. But on account of the low, mean lives

so many are living, they never rise above the miasmic contagion of the

sin and self level. These unseen wings are either paralyzed or clipped.

Plume now actually stepped toward me. What a graceful tread. She was

indeed the most charming creature I had met outside of my own world. She

seated herself near me on the rustic bend of a tree unlike any in our

world and hurried her questions at me as if she realized that I would

not tarry long. At length she gratefully said:

"I am beginning to believe that you are really a son of another world,

or else I am reveling in a day dream."

"Happy am I that I can learn from you some of the truths after which I

am seeking," was my evasive reply. "Tell me, Plume, something about your

faith religiously."

"I worship the God who made all things and am hoping to live in the

wider life after my mortal days are ended."

"Do you expect to meet, in that wider life, representatives from other

worlds?"

"Ah! I have often thought that it might be so," she answered, as her

face brightened in poetic fervor, and her eyes sparkled with seraphic

luster.

"It shall all be so, and much more," I declared. "In that life you can

fly without wings and mingle with the pure from the unnumbered worlds of

space."

"What an incentive to a pure life," she quickly added.

"Talking of wings, do you object if I see more closely the cut and style

of your wings? I never saw before a human creature possessing a pair."

After a moment's hesitancy she raised her right arm and with it the one

wing unfolded. I ventured near enough to see the intricate network of

muscle and bone woven around the arm and filling the space between the

raised arm and the side of Plume's body. She was surprised at the

interest I manifested in the human wing. After this she offered to

furnish an able escort to conduct me to several points of interest.

All this I declined and informed my talented friend that I must hasten

away to another world.

"Let me go with you," she strongly insisted.

"Your wings are not of the right kind," I replied hurriedly.

"They are strong enough to bear us both," were her inviting words.

"But not beyond the atmosphere of this world," I explained.

I quietly arose, scanned once more the beautiful valley before me, and

indicated that I was about to wane into the invisible. Then did her

womanly nature assert its supremacy and she, for the first time, touched

my hand imploringly:

"Have I been dreaming, or do my eyes deceive me? How can all this be

true? Your hand is sensible to my touch. I implore you to remain until I

speak to you more about the sciences of your world."

In all my journey I never yielded to persuasion before. But somehow I

consented to spend a season longer of most charming fellowship, talking

of the elements in nature, their chemical affinities, and the laws of

matter and mind. Plume was unusually bright in the philosophies, and I

gathered from her many truths which had always before been hidden to me.

Finally I became rigid in my determination to leave, for I knew that I

could not stay.

"Grant me one request," she begged.

"Let me hear it."

"Promise me that you will return."

"Impossible, impossible!"

The parting that followed was indeed memorable. Without any further

notice I suddenly vanished, but still tarried invisibly in close

proximity.

Plume was now left in deep bewilderment, and I could not even

conjecture the details of her warring thoughts. Finally I saw that for

which I had tarried. Plume lifted her wings and flew skyward as

beautifully and gracefully as any bird of our earthly air.

Life in a Thousand Worlds · 第 21 / 22 章