The Coming Race by Edward Bulwer, Lord Lytton (sites to read books for free .TXT) 📖

fall into poverty. There is an old proverb amongst us
which says, 'The poor man's need is the rich man's shame---'"

"Pardon me, if I interrupt you for a moment. You allow that
some, even of the Vril-ya, know want, and need relief."

"If by want you mean the destitution that prevails in a
Koom-Posh, THAT is impossible with us, unless an An has, by
some extraordinary process, got rid of all his means, cannot or
will not emigrate, and has either tired out the affectionate
aid of this relations or personal friends, or refuses to accept
it."

"Well, then, does he not supply the place of an infant or
automaton, and become a labourer- a servant?"

"No; then we regard him as an unfortunate person of unsound
reason, and place him, at the expense of the State, in a public
building, where every comfort and every luxury that can
mitigate his affliction are lavished upon him. But an An does
not like to be considered out of his mind, and therefore such
cases occur so seldom that the public building I speak of is
now a deserted ruin, and the last inmate of it was an An whom I
recollect to have seen in my childhood. He did not seem
conscious of loss of reason, and wrote glaubs (poetry). When I
spoke of wants, I meant such wants as an An with desires larger
than his means sometimes entertains- for expensive
singing-birds, or bigger houses, or country-gardens; and the
obvious way to satisfy such wants is to buy of him something
that he sells. Hence Ana like myself, who are very rich, are
121obliged to buy a great many things they do not require, and
live on a very large scale where they might prefer to live on a
small one. For instance, the great size of my house in the
town is a source of much trouble to my wife, and even to
myself; but I am compelled to have it thus incommodiously
large, because, as the richest An of the community, I am
appointed to entertain the strangers from the other communities
when they visit us, which they do in great crowds twice-a-year,
when certain periodical entertainments are held, and when
relations scattered throughout all the realms of the Vril-ya
joyfully reunite for a time. This hospitality, on a scale so
extensive, is not to my taste, and therefore I should have been
happier had I been less rich. But we must all bear the lot
assigned to us in this short passage through time that we call
life. After all, what are a hundred years, more or less, to
the ages through which we must pass hereafter? Luckily, I have
one son who likes great wealth. It is a rare exception to the
general rule, and I own I cannot myself understand it."

After this conversation I sought to return to the subject which
continued to weigh on my heart- viz., the chances of escape
from Zee. But my host politely declined to renew that topic,
and summoned our air-boat. On our way back we were met by Zee,
who, having found us gone, on her return from the College of
Sages, had unfurled her wings and flown in search of us.

Her grand, but to me unalluring, countenance brightened as she
beheld me, and, poising herself beside the boat on her large
outspread plumes, she said reproachfully to Aph-Lin- "Oh,
father, was it right in you to hazard the life of your guest in
a vehicle to which he is so unaccustomed? He might, by an
incautious movement, fall over the side; and alas; he is not
like us, he has no wings. It were death to him to fall. Dear
one!" (she added, accosting my shrinking self in a softer
voice), "have you no thought of me, that you should thus hazard
122a life which has become almost a part of mine? Never again be
thus rash, unless I am thy companion. What terror thou hast
stricken into me!"

I glanced furtively at Aph-Lin, expecting, at least, that he
would indignantly reprove his daughter for expressions of
anxiety and affection, which, under all the circumstances,
would, in the world above ground, be considered immodest in the
lips of a young female, addressed to a male not affianced to
her, even if of the same rank as herself.

But so confirmed are the rights of females in that region, and
so absolutely foremost among those rights do females claim the
privilege of courtship, that Aph-Lin would no more have thought
of reproving his virgin daughter than he would have thought of
disobeying the orders of the Tur. In that country, custom, as
he implied, is all in all.

He answered mildly, "Zee, the Tish is in no danger and it is my
belief the he can take very good care of himself."

"I would rather that he let me charge myself with his care.
Oh, heart of my heart, it was in the thought of thy danger that
I first felt how much I loved thee!"

Never did man feel in such a false position as I did. These
words were spoken loud in the hearing of Zee's father- in the
hearing of the child who steered. I blushed with shame for
them, and for her, and could not help replying angrily: "Zee,
either you mock me, which, as your father's guest, misbecomes
you, or the words you utter are improper for a maiden Gy to
address even to an An of her own race, if he has not wooed her
with the consent of her parents. How much more improper to
address them to a Tish, who has never presumed to solicit your
affections, and who can never regard you with other sentiments
than those of reverence and awe!"

Aph-Lin made me a covert sing of approbation, but said nothing.

123"Be not so cruel!" exclaimed Zee, still in sonorous accents.
"Can love command itself where it is truly felt? Do you suppose
that a maiden Gy will conceal a sentiment that it elevates her
to feel? What a country you must have come from!"

Here Aph-Lin gently interposed, saying, "Among the Tish-a the
rights of your sex do not appear to be established, and at all
events my guest may converse with you more freely if unchecked
by the presence of others."

To this remark Zee made no reply, but, darting on me a tender
reproachful glance, agitated her wings and fled homeward.

"I had counted, at least, on some aid from my host," I said
bitterly, "in the perils to which his own daughter exposes me."

"I gave you the best aid I could. To contradict a Gy in her
love affairs is to confirm her purpose. She allows no counsel
to come between her and her affections."


Chapter XXIV.


On alighting from the air-boat, a child accosted Aph-Lin in the
hall with a request that he would be present at the funeral
obsequies of a relation who had recently departed from that
nether world.

Now, I had never seen a burial-place or cemetery amongst this
people, and, glad to seize even so melancholy an occasion to
defer an encounter with Zee, I asked Aph-Lin if I might be
permitted to witness with him the interment of his relation;
unless, indeed, it were regarded as one of those sacred
ceremonies to which a stranger to their race might not be
admitted.

"The departure of an An to a happier world," answered my host,
"when, as in the case of my kinsman, he has lived so long in
124this as to have lost pleasure in it, is rather a cheerful
though quiet festival than a sacred ceremony, and you may
accompany me if you will."

Preceded by the child-messenger, we walked up the main street
to a house at some little distance, and, entering the hall,
were conducted to a room on the ground floor, where we found
several persons assembled round a couch on which was laid the
deceased. It was an old man, who had, as I was told, lived
beyond his 130th year. To judge by the calm smile on his
countenance, he had passed away without suffering. One of the
sons, who was now the head of the family, and who seemed in
vigorous middle life, though he was considerably more than
seventy, stepped forward with a cheerful face and told Aph-Lin
"that the day before he died his father had seen in a dream his
departed Gy, and was eager to be reunited to her, and restored
to youth beneath the nearer smile of the All-Good."

While these two were talking, my attention was drawn to a dark
metallic substance at the farther end of the room. It was
about twenty feet in length, narrow in proportion, and all
closed round, save, near the roof, there were small round holes
through which might be seen a red light. From the interior
emanated a rich and sweet perfume; and while I was conjecturing
what purpose this machine was to serve, all the time-pieces in
the town struck the hour with their solemn musical chime; and
as that sound ceased, music of a more joyous character, but
still of a joy subdued and tranquil, rang throughout the
chamber, and from the walls beyond, in a choral peal.
Symphonious with the melody, those in the room lifted their
voices in chant. The words of this hymn were simple. They
expressed no regret, no farewell, but rather a greeting to the
new world whither the deceased had preceded the living.
Indeed, in their language, the funeral hymn is called the
'Birth Song.' Then the corpse, covered by a long cerement, was
tenderly lifted up by six of the nearest kinfolk and borne
towards the dark thing I have described. I pressed forward to
125see what happened. A sliding door or panel at one end was
lifted up- the body deposited within, on a shelf- the door
reclosed- a spring a the side touched- a sudden 'whishing,'
sighing sound heard from within; and lo! at the other end of
the machine the lid fell down, and a small handful of
smouldering dust dropped into a 'patera' placed to receive it.
The son took up the 'patera' and said (in what I understood
afterwards was the usual form of words), "Behold how great is
the Maker! To this little dust He gave form and life and soul.
It needs not this little dust for Him to renew form and life
and soul to the beloved one we shall soon see again."

Each present bowed his head and pressed his hand to his heart.
Then a young female child opened a small door within the wall,
and I perceived, in the recess, shelves on which were placed
many 'paterae' like that which the son held, save that they all
had covers. With such a cover a Gy now approached the son, and
placed it over the cup, on which it closed with a spring. On
the lid were engraven the name of the deceased, and these
words:- "Lent to us" (here the date of birth). "Recalled from
us" (here the date of death).

The closed door shut with a musical sound, and all was over.


Chapter XXV.


"And this," said I, with my mind full of what I had witnessed-
"this, I presume, is your usual form of burial?"

"Our invariable form," answered Aph-Lin. "What is it amongst
your people?"

"We inter the body whole within the earth."

"What! To degrade the form you have loved and honoured, the
wife on whose breast you have slept, to the loathsomeness of
corruption?"
126
"But if the soul lives again, can it matter whether