Caxton's Book: A Collection of Essays, Poems, Tales, and Sketches.

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Caxton's Book: A Collection of Essays, Poems, Tales, and Sketches. Page 17

by W. H. Rhodes


  [Decoration]

  XV.

  _WHITHERWARD._

  By pursuing the analogies of nature, the human mind reduces to order thevagaries of the imagination, and bodies them forth in forms ofloveliness and in similitudes of heaven.

  By an irrevocable decree of Nature's God, all his works are progressivein the direction of himself. This law is traceable from the molehill upto the mountain, from the mite up to the man. Geology, speaking to usfrom the depths of a past eternity, from annals inscribed upon theimperishable rock, utters not one syllable to contradict this tremendoustruth. Millions of ages ago, she commenced her impartial record, and aswe unroll it to-day, from the coal-bed and the marble quarry, we read increation's dawn as plainly as we behold in operation around us, themighty decree--ONWARD AND UPWARD, FOREVER!

  In the shadowy past this majestic globe floated through the blue ether,a boiling flood of lava. The elements were then unborn. Time was not;for as yet the golden laws of Kepler had not emerged from chaos. The sunhad not hemmed his bright-eyed daughters in, nor marked out on the azureconcave the paths they were to tread. The planets were not worlds, butshot around the lurid center liquid masses of flame and desolation.Comets sported at random through the sky, and trailed after them theirhorrid skirts of fire. The Spirit of God had not "moved upon the face ofthe waters," and rosy Chaos still held the scepter in his hand. Butchanges were at work. As the coral worm toils on in the unfathomabledepths of ocean, laying in secret the foundations of mighty continents,destined as the ages roll by to emerge into light and grandeur, so thelaws of the universe carried on their everlasting work.

  An eternity elapsed, and the age of fire passed away. A new era dawnedupon the earth. The gases were generated, and the elements of air andwater overspread the globe. Islands began to appear, at first presentingpinnacles of bare and blasted granite; but gradually, by decay anddecomposition, changing into dank marshes and fertile plains.

  One after another the sensational universe now springs into being. Thisbut prepared the way for the animated, and that in turn formed thegroundwork and basis for the human. Man then came forth, the result ofall her previous efforts--nature's pet, her paragon and her pride.

  Reason sits enthroned upon his brow, and the soul wraps its sweetaffections about his heart; angels spread their wings above him, and Godcalls him His child. He treads the earth its acknowledged monarch, andcommences its subjection. One by one the elements have yielded to hissway, nature has revealed her hoariest secrets to his ken, and heaventhrown wide its portals to his spirit. He stands now upon the very acmeof the visible creation, and with straining eye, and listening ear, andanxious heart, whispers to himself that terrific and tremendousword--WHITHERWARD!

  Late one afternoon in April, I was sitting on the grassy slope ofTelegraph Hill, watching the waves of sunset as they rolled in from thewest, and broke in crimson spray upon the peaks of the Contra Costahills. I was alone; and, as my custom is, was ruminating upon the grandproblem of futurity. The broad and beautiful bay spread out like a seaof silver at my feet, and the distant mountains, reflecting the rays ofthe setting sun, seemed to hem it in with barriers of gold. The city laylike a tired infant at evening in its mother's arms, and only atintervals disturbed my reflections by its expiring sobs. The hours ofbusiness I well knew had passed, and the heavy iron door had long sincegrated on its hinges, and the fire-proof shutter been bolted for thenight. But I felt that my labors had just commenced. The duties of myprofession had swallowed up thought throughout the long hours devoted tothe cares of life, and it was not until I was released from theirthraldom that I found myself in truth a slave. The one master-thoughtcame back into my brain, until it burned its hideous image there inletters of fire--WHITHERWARD! WHITHERWARD!

  The past came up before me with its long memories of Egyptian grandeur,with its triumphs of Grecian art, with its burden of Roman glory. Italycame with her republics, her "starry" Galileo, and her immortalBuonarotti. France flashed by, with her garments dyed in blood, and herNapoleons in chains. England rose up with her arts and her arms, hercommerce and her civilization, her splendor and her shame. I beheldNewton gazing at the stars, heard Milton singing of Paradise, and sawRussell expiring on the scaffold. But ever and anon a pale,thorn-crowned monarch, arrayed in mock-purple, and bending beneath across, would start forth at my side, and with uplifted eye, butspeechless lip, point with one hand to the pages of a volume I had openon my knee, and with the other to the blue heaven above. Judea wouldthen pass with solemn tread before me. Her patriarchs, her prophets andher apostles, her judges, her kings, and her people, one by one came andwent like the phantasmagoria of a dream. The present then rose up inglittering robes, its feet resting upon the mounds of Nimrod, its browencircled with a coronet of stars, pillaging, with one hand, the cloudabove of its lightnings, and sending them forth with the other, bridledand subdued, to the uttermost ends of the earth.

  But this was not all. Earth's physical history also swept by in fullreview. All nature lent her stores, and with an effort of mind, by nomeans uncommon for those who have long thought upon a single subject, Iseemed to possess the power to generalize all that I had ever heard,read or seen, into one gorgeous picture, and hang it up in the wideheavens before me.

  The actual scenery around me entirely disappeared, and I beheld animmense pyramid of alabaster, reared to the very stars, upon whose sidesI saw inscribed a faithful history of the past. Its foundations were indeep shadow, but the light gradually increased toward the top, until itssummit was bathed in the most refulgent lustre.

  Inscribed in golden letters I read on one of its sides these words, inalternate layers, rising gradually to the apex: "_Granite_, _Liquid_,_Gas_, _Electricity_;" on another, "_Inorganic_, _Vegetable_, _Animal_,_Human_;" on the third side, "_Consciousness_, _Memory_, _Reason_,_Imagination_;" and on the fourth, "_Chaos_, _Order_, _Harmony_,_Love_."

  At this moment I beheld the figure of a human being standing at thebase of the pyramid, and gazing intently upward. He then placed his footupon the foundation, and commenced climbing toward the summit. I caughta distinct view of his features, and perceived that they were black andswarthy like those of the most depraved Hottentot. He toiled slowlyupward, and as he passed the first layer, he again looked toward me, andI observed that his features had undergone a complete transformation.They now resembled those of an American Indian. He passed the secondlayer; and as he entered the third, once more presented his face to mefor observation. Another change had overspread it, and I readilyrecognized in him the tawny native of Malacca or Hindoostan. As hereached the last layer, and entered its region of refulgent light, Icaught a full glimpse of his form and features, and beheld the highforehead, the glossy ringlets, the hazel eye, and the alabaster skin ofthe true Caucasian.

  I now observed for the first time that the pyramid was left unfinished,and that its summit, instead of presenting a well-defined peak, was inreality a level plain. In a few moments more, the figure I had tracedfrom the base to the fourth layer, reached the apex, and stood withfolded arms and upraised brow upon the very summit. His lips parted asif about to speak, and as I leaned forward to hear, I caught, indistinct tone and thrilling accent, that word which had so often risento my own lips for utterance, and seared my very brain, becauseunanswered--WHITHERWARD!

  "Whitherward, indeed!" exclaimed I, aloud, shuddering at the sepulchralsound of my voice. "Home," responded a tiny voice at my side, andturning suddenly around, my eyes met those of a sweet littleschool-girl, with a basket of flowers upon her arm, who had approachedme unobserved, and who evidently imagined I had addressed her when Ispoke. "Yes, little daughter," replied I, "'tis time to proceedhomeward, for the sun has ceased to gild the summit of Diavolo, and theevening star is visible in the west. I will attend you home," and takingher proffered hand, I descended the hill, with the dreadful word stillringing in my ears, and the fadeless vision still glowing in my heart.

  # # # # #

  Midnight had c
ome and gone, and still the book lay open on my knee. Thecandle had burned down close to the socket, and threw a flickeringglimmer around my chamber; but no indications of fatigue or slumbervisited my eyelids. My temples throbbed heavily, and I felt the hot andexcited blood playing like the piston-rod of an engine between my heartand brain.

  I had launched forth on the broad ocean of speculation, and nowperceived, when too late, the perils of my situation. Above me weredense and lowering clouds, which no eye could penetrate; around mehowling tempests, which no voice could quell; beneath me heavingbillows, which no oil could calm. I thought of Plato struggling with hisdoubts; of Epicurus sinking beneath them; of Socrates swallowing hispoison; of Cicero surrendering himself to despair. I remembered how allthe great souls of the earth had staggered beneath the burden of thesame thought, which weighed like a thousand Cordilleras upon my own; andas I pressed my hand upon my burning brow, I cried again andagain--WHITHERWARD! WHITHERWARD!

  I could find no relief in philosophy; for I knew her maxims by heartfrom Zeno and the Stagirite down to Berkeley and Cousin. I had followedher into all her hiding-places, and courted her in all her moods. Nocoquette was ever half so false, so fickle, and so fair. Her robes arewoven of the sunbeams, and a star adorns her brow; but she sitsimpassive upon her icy throne, and wields no scepter but despair. Thelight she throws around is not the clear gleam of the sunshine, nor thebright twinkle of the star; but glances in fitful glimmerings on thesoul, like the aurora on the icebergs of the pole, and lightens up thescene only to show its utter desolation.

  The Bible lay open before me, but I could find no comfort there. Itslessons were intended only for the meek and humble, and my heart wascased in pride. It reached only to the believing; I was tossed on anocean of doubt. It required, as a condition to faith, the innocence ofan angel and the humility of a child; I had long ago seared myconscience by mingling in the busy scenes of life, and was proud of mymental acquirements. The Bible spoke comfort to the Publican; I was ofthe straight sect of the Pharisees. Its promises were directed to thepoor in spirit, whilst mine panted for renown.

  At this moment, whilst heedlessly turning over its leaves and scarcelyglancing at their contents, my attention was arrested by this remarkablepassage in one of Paul's epistles: "That was not _first_ which isspiritual, but that which was natural, and _afterward_ that which isspiritual. Behold, I show you a mystery: _we shall not all sleep_, butwe shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at thelast trump."

  Again and again I read this text, for it promised more by reflectionthan at first appeared in the words. Slowly a light broke in on thehorizon's verge, and I felt, for the first time in my whole life, thatthe past was not all inexplicable, nor the future a chaos, but that thehuman soul, lit up by the torch of science! and guided by theprophecies of Holy Writ, might predict the path it is destined to tread,and read in advance the history of its final enfranchisement. St. Paulevidently intended to teach the doctrine of _progress_, even in itsapplicability to man. He did not belong to that narrow-minded sect inphilosophy, which declares that the earth and the heavens are finished;that man is the crowning glory of his Maker, and the utmost stretch ofHis creative power; that henceforth the globe which he inhabits isbarren, and can produce no being superior to himself. On the contrary,he clearly intended to teach the same great truth which modern scienceis demonstrating to all the world, that progression is nature's firstlaw, and that even in the human kingdom the irrevocable decree has goneforth--ONWARD AND UPWARD, FOREVER!

  Such were my reflections when the last glimmer of the candle flashed uplike a meteor, and then as suddenly expired in night. I was glad thatthe shadows were gone. Better, thought I, is utter darkness than thatpoor flame which renders it visible. But I had suddenly grown rich inthought. A clue had been furnished to the labyrinth in which I hadwandered from a child; a hint had been planted in the mind which itwould be impossible ever to circumscribe or extinguish. One letter hadbeen identified by which, like Champollion le Jeune, I could eventuallydecipher the inscription on the pyramid. What are these spectralapparitions which rear themselves in the human mind, and are called bymortals _hints_? Whence do they come? Who lodges them in the chambers ofthe mind, where they sprout and germinate, and bud and blossom, andbear?

  The Florentine caught one as it fell from the stars, and invented thetelescope to observe them. Columbus caught another, as it was whisperedby the winds, and they wafted him to the shores of a New World. Franklinbeheld one flash forth from the cloud, and he traced the lightnings totheir bourn. Another dropped from the skies into the brain of Leverrier,and he scaled the very heavens, till he unburied a star.

  Rapidly was my mind working out the solution of the problem which had solong tortured it, based upon the intimation it had derived from St.Paul's epistle, when most unexpectedly, and at the same time mostunwelcomely, I fell into one of those strange moods which can neither becalled sleep nor consciousness, but which leave their impress far morepowerfully than the visions of the night or the events of the day.

  I beheld a small egg, most beautifully dotted over, and stained. Whilstmy eye rested on it, it cracked; an opening was made _from within_, andalmost immediately afterward a bird of glittering plumage and mockingsong flew out, and perched on the bough of a rose-tree, beneath whoseshadow I found myself reclining. Before my surprise had vanished, Ibeheld a painted worm at my feet, crawling toward the root of the treewhich was blooming above me. It soon reached the trunk, climbed into thebranches, and commenced spinning its cocoon. Hardly had it finished itssilken home, ere it came forth in the form of a gorgeous butterfly, and,spreading its wings, mounted toward the heavens. Quickly succeedingthis, the same pyramid of alabaster, which I had seen from the summit ofTelegraph Hill late in the afternoon, rose gradually upon the view. Itwas in nowise changed; the inscriptions on the sides were the same, andthe identical figure stood with folded arms and uplifted brow upon thetop. I now heard a rushing sound, such as stuns the ear at Niagara, orgreets it during a hurricane at sea, when the shrouds of the ship arewhistling to the blast, and the flashing billows are dashing against hersides.

  Suddenly the pyramid commenced changing its form, and before manymoments elapsed it had assumed the rotundity of a globe, and I beheld itcovered with seas, and hills, and lakes, and mountains, and plains, andfertile fields. But the human figure still stood upon its crest. Thencame forth the single blast of a bugle, such as the soldier hears on themorn of a world-changing battle. Caesar heard it at Pharsalia, Titus atJerusalem, Washington at Yorktown, and Wellington at Waterloo.

  No lightning flash ever rended forest king from crest to root quickerthan the transformation which now overspread the earth. In a second oftime it became as transparent as crystal, and as brilliant as the sun.But in every other respect it preserved its identity. On casting my eyestoward the human being, I perceived that he still preserved hisposition, but his feet did not seem to touch the earth. He appeared tobe floating upon its arch, as the halcyon floats in the atmosphere. Hisfeatures were lit up with a heavenly radiance, and assumed an expressionof superhuman beauty.

  The thought crossed my mind, Can this be a spirit? As sudden as thequestion came forth the response, "I am." But, inquired my mind, for mylips did not move, you have never passed the portals of the grave? AgainI read in his features the answer, "For ages this earth existed as anatural body, and all its inhabitants partook of its characteristics;gradually it approached the spiritual state, and by a law like thatwhich transforms the egg into the songster, or the worm into thebutterfly, it has just accomplished one of its mighty cycles, and nowgleams forth with the refulgence of the stars. I did not die, but passedas naturally into the spiritual world as the huge earth itself. Prophetsand apostles predicted this change many hundred years ago; but the blindinfatuation of our race did not permit them to realize its truth. Yourown mind, in common with the sages of all time, long brooded over theidea, and oftentimes have you exclaimed, in agony anddismay--WHITHERWARD! WHITHERWARD!r />
  "The question is now solved. The revolution may not come in the yearallotted you, but so surely as St. Paul spoke inspiration, so surely asscience elicits truth, so surely as the past prognosticates the future,the natural world must pass into the spiritual, and everything bechanged in the twinkling of an eye. Watch well! your own ears may hearthe clarion note, your own eyes witness the transfiguration."

  Slowly the vision faded away, and left me straining my gaze into thedark midnight which now shrouded the world, and endeavoring to calm myheart, which throbbed as audibly as the hollow echoes of a drum. Whenthe morning sun peeped over the Contra Costa range, I still sat silentand abstracted in my chair, revolving over the incidents of the night,but thankful that, though the reason is powerless to brush away theclouds which obscure the future, yet the imagination may spread itswings, and, soaring into the heavens beyond them, answer the soul whenin terror she inquires--WHITHERWARD!

 

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