THE CONVERSATION OF EIROS AND CHARMION
I will bring fire to thee.
_Euripides--Androm:_
EIROS.
Why do you call me Eiros?
CHARMION
So henceforward will you always be called. You must forget too, myearthly name, and speak to me as Charmion.
EIROS.
This is indeed no dream!
CHARMION.
Dreams are with us no more;--but of these mysteries anon. I rejoiceto see you looking life-like and rational. The film of the shadow hasalready passed from off your eyes. Be of heart and fear nothing. Yourallotted days of stupor have expired and, to-morrow, I will myselfinduct you into the full joys and wonders of your novel existence.
EIROS.
True--I feel no stupor--none at all. The wild sickness and the terribledarkness have left me, and I hear no longer that mad, rushing, horriblesound, like the "voice of many waters." Yet my senses are bewildered,Charmion, with the keenness of their perception of the new.
CHARMION.
A few days will remove all this;--but I fully understand you, andfeel for you. It is now ten earthly years since I underwent what youundergo--yet the remembrance of it hangs by me still. You have nowsuffered all of pain, however, which you will suffer in Aidenn.
EIROS.
In Aidenn?
CHARMION.
In Aidenn.
EIROS.
Oh God!--pity me, Charmion!--I am overburthened with the majesty of allthings--of the unknown now known--of the speculative Future merged inthe august and certain Present.
CHARMION.
Grapple not now with such thoughts. To-morrow we will speak of this.Your mind wavers, and its agitation will find relief in the exercise ofsimple memories. Look not around, nor forward--but back. I am burningwith anxiety to hear the details of that stupendous event which threwyou among us. Tell me of it. Let us converse of familiar things, in theold familiar language of the world which has so fearfully perished.
EIROS.
Most fearfully, fearfully!--this is indeed no dream.
CHARMION.
Dreams are no more. Was I much mourned, my Eiros?
EIROS.
Mourned, Charmion?--oh deeply. To that last hour of all, there hung acloud of intense gloom and devout sorrow over your household.
CHARMION.
And that last hour--speak of it. Remember that, beyond the naked factof the catastrophe itself, I know nothing. When, coming out from amongmankind, I passed into Night through the Grave--at that period, ifI remember aright, the calamity which overwhelmed you was utterlyunanticipated. But, indeed, I knew little of the speculative philosophyof the day.
EIROS.
The individual calamity was as you say entirely unanticipated; butanalogous misfortunes had been long a subject of discussion withastronomers. I need scarce tell you, my friend, that, even when youleft us, men had agreed to understand those passages in the most holywritings which speak of the final destruction of all things by fire,as having reference to the orb of the earth alone. But in regard to theimmediate agency of the ruin, speculation had been at fault from thatepoch in astronomical knowledge in which the comets were divested ofthe terrors of flame. The very moderate density of these bodies had beenwell established. They had been observed to pass among the satellitesof Jupiter, without bringing about any sensible alteration either in themasses or in the orbits of these secondary planets. We had long regardedthe wanderers as vapory creations of inconceivable tenuity, and asaltogether incapable of doing injury to our substantial globe, even inthe event of contact. But contact was not in any degree dreaded; forthe elements of all the comets were accurately known. That among them weshould look for the agency of the threatened fiery destruction had beenfor many years considered an inadmissible idea. But wonders and wildfancies had been, of late days, strangely rife among mankind; and,although it was only with a few of the ignorant that actual apprehensionprevailed, upon the announcement by astronomers of a new comet, yet thisannouncement was generally received with I know not what of agitationand mistrust.
The elements of the strange orb were immediately calculated, and it wasat once conceded by all observers, that its path, at perihelion, wouldbring it into very close proximity with the earth. There were two orthree astronomers, of secondary note, who resolutely maintained that acontact was inevitable. I cannot very well express to you the effect ofthis intelligence upon the people. For a few short days they wouldnot believe an assertion which their intellect so long employed amongworldly considerations could not in any manner grasp. But the truth of avitally important fact soon makes its way into the understanding of eventhe most stolid. Finally, all men saw that astronomical knowledgelied not, and they awaited the comet. Its approach was not, at first,seemingly rapid; nor was its appearance of very unusual character. Itwas of a dull red, and had little perceptible train. For seven or eightdays we saw no material increase in its apparent diameter, and but apartial alteration in its color. Meantime, the ordinary affairs ofmen were discarded and all interests absorbed in a growing discussion,instituted by the philosophic, in respect to the cometary nature.Even the grossly ignorant aroused their sluggish capacities to suchconsiderations. The learned now gave their intellect--their soul--tono such points as the allaying of fear, or to the sustenance of lovedtheory. They sought--they panted for right views. They groaned forperfected knowledge. Truth arose in the purity of her strength andexceeding majesty, and the wise bowed down and adored.
That material injury to our globe or to its inhabitants would resultfrom the apprehended contact, was an opinion which hourly lost groundamong the wise; and the wise were now freely permitted to rule thereason and the fancy of the crowd. It was demonstrated, that the densityof the comet's nucleus was far less than that of our rarest gas; and theharmless passage of a similar visitor among the satellites of Jupiterwas a point strongly insisted upon, and which served greatly to allayterror. Theologists with an earnestness fear-enkindled, dwelt upon thebiblical prophecies, and expounded them to the people with a directnessand simplicity of which no previous instance had been known. That thefinal destruction of the earth must be brought about by the agency offire, was urged with a spirit that enforced every where conviction;and that the comets were of no fiery nature (as all men now knew) was atruth which relieved all, in a great measure, from the apprehensionof the great calamity foretold. It is noticeable that the popularprejudices and vulgar errors in regard to pestilences and wars--errorswhich were wont to prevail upon every appearance of a comet--were nowaltogether unknown. As if by some sudden convulsive exertion, reason hadat once hurled superstition from her throne. The feeblest intellect hadderived vigor from excessive interest.
What minor evils might arise from the contact were points of elaboratequestion. The learned spoke of slight geological disturbances, ofprobable alterations in climate, and consequently in vegetation, ofpossible magnetic and electric influences. Many held that no visibleor perceptible effect would in any manner be produced. While suchdiscussions were going on, their subject gradually approached, growinglarger in apparent diameter, and of a more brilliant lustre. Mankindgrew paler as it came. All human operations were suspended.
There was an epoch in the course of the general sentiment when thecomet had attained, at length, a size surpassing that of any previouslyrecorded visitation. The people now, dismissing any lingering hope thatthe astronomers were wrong, experienced all the certainty of evil. Thechimerical aspect of their terror was gone. The hearts of the stoutestof our race beat violently within their bosoms. A very few dayssufficed, however, to merge even such feelings in sentimentsmore unendurable We could no longer apply to the strange orb anyaccustomed thoughts. Its historical attributes had disappeared. Itoppressed us with a hideous novelty of emotion. We saw it not as anastronomical phenomenon in the heavens, but as an incubus upon ourhearts, and a shadow upon our brains. It had taken, with inconceivablerapidity, the character of a gigantic mantle of
rare flame, extendingfrom horizon to horizon.
Yet a day, and men breathed with greater freedom. It was clear that wewere already within the influence of the comet; yet we lived. We evenfelt an unusual elasticity of frame and vivacity of mind. The exceedingtenuity of the object of our dread was apparent; for all heavenlyobjects were plainly visible through it. Meantime, our vegetationhad perceptibly altered; and we gained faith, from this predictedcircumstance, in the foresight of the wise. A wild luxuriance offoliage, utterly unknown before, burst out upon every vegetable thing.
Yet another day--and the evil was not altogether upon us. It was nowevident that its nucleus would first reach us. A wild change had comeover all men; and the first sense of pain was the wild signal forgeneral lamentation and horror. This first sense of pain lay in arigorous constriction of the breast and lungs, and an insufferabledryness of the skin. It could not be denied that our atmosphere wasradically affected; the conformation of this atmosphere and the possiblemodifications to which it might be subjected, were now the topics ofdiscussion. The result of investigation sent an electric thrill of theintensest terror through the universal heart of man.
It had been long known that the air which encircled us was a compound ofoxygen and nitrogen gases, in the proportion of twenty-one measuresof oxygen, and seventy-nine of nitrogen in every one hundred of theatmosphere. Oxygen, which was the principle of combustion, and thevehicle of heat, was absolutely necessary to the support of animal life,and was the most powerful and energetic agent in nature. Nitrogen, onthe contrary, was incapable of supporting either animal life or flame.An unnatural excess of oxygen would result, it had been ascertainedin just such an elevation of the animal spirits as we had latterlyexperienced. It was the pursuit, the extension of the idea, which hadengendered awe. What would be the result of a total extraction of thenitrogen? A combustion irresistible, all-devouring, omni-prevalent,immediate;--the entire fulfilment, in all their minute and terribledetails, of the fiery and horror-inspiring denunciations of theprophecies of the Holy Book.
Why need I paint, Charmion, the now disenchained frenzy of mankind? Thattenuity in the comet which had previously inspired us with hope, wasnow the source of the bitterness of despair. In its impalpable gaseouscharacter we clearly perceived the consummation of Fate. Meantime a dayagain passed--bearing away with it the last shadow of Hope. We gaspedin the rapid modification of the air. The red blood bounded tumultuouslythrough its strict channels. A furious delirium possessed all men; and,with arms rigidly outstretched towards the threatening heavens, theytrembled and shrieked aloud. But the nucleus of the destroyer wasnow upon us;--even here in Aidenn, I shudder while I speak. Let me bebrief--brief as the ruin that overwhelmed. For a moment there was a wildlurid light alone, visiting and penetrating all things. Then--let usbow down Charmion, before the excessive majesty of the great God!--then,there came a shouting and pervading sound, as if from the mouth itselfof HIM; while the whole incumbent mass of ether in which we existed,burst at once into a species of intense flame, for whose surpassingbrilliancy and all-fervid heat even the angels in the high Heaven ofpure knowledge have no name. Thus ended all.
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4 Page 21