IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 i4 5 ^ l^ ilM |40 2.2 2.0 111= U IIIIII.6 V] !pletion of the Temple of Pro gress XXIX. The sudden Destruction of the Temple OF Progress XXX. A New Temple XXXI. A Great Revivai XXXII. A Grani> Union XXXIII. A New Title for the Prince . XXXIV. The Overthrow of the Prince of Pro ORES J ....... XXXV. Progress Purified .... XXXVI. The Reign of the King's son, and a New Name for the City PAGR 99 108 129 137 143 152 158 168 176 179 1S6 190 1 98 207 213 219 229 237 245 249 54 THE CITY OF PROGRESS AND SIGNS OF THE TIMES. CHArXER I. A PAGE OF HISTORY. Full of wisdom, and perfect in beauty : Thou hast been in Eden, the garden of God. — Ezek. xxviii. 12, 13. I WAS born in a city called Progress, which has been great from its earliest days, and whose citizens have a name known in heaven above and in hell beneath. The inhabitants love their City more than their lives ; indeed, they will cheerfully die for its honours and glories. Their highest ambition is to have their names handed down to posterity, to have their statues admired and their deeds exalted, when they themselves B [" i II 2 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. have no longer either eyes to see or ears to hear. The marvels of the City of Progress unfold daily, the labours of past generations are con- tinually brought to light, and the inventions of the living are ever on the increase. While the past and the present of the City's greatness are themes of wonder and praise, it is the future which stimulates the energy and zeal of the citizens, who anticipate a glory which it is be- lieved will dim both the present and the past. The origin of the City of Progress is remark- able. Once upon a time certain poets of the City sang of their townsmen as the offspring of the Ruler ot the Heavens, who orders the courses of the stars which are placed there ; while in the most ancient Book to be found in the City there are records even stranger than those of the poets. This Book states, that many years ago the King of Eternity for his own pleasure designed a certain plantation, which was called the Garden of Delights: it was brilliant with delicate and THE GARDEN OF DELIGHTS. gorgeous flowers, and rich with leafy and fruitful trees — all of which grew freely, without the toil of the hand or the sweat of the brow. The morning smiled upon this lovely place, and the evening watered it with dew. This spot, so well suited to be the abode of contentment, the King placed under the care of a man whom he loved and upon whom he had set his heart. This man was gifted with rare intelligence and administrative ability, and the King entrusted him with every treasure which his Garden contained, making him lord of all. Having thus placed all under this man's control, and desiring that he should carry out, by wisdom and in gladness, the pur- pose for which this Garden was designed, the King bade him enjoy its sweets and dress and keep it for his sake. The Garden-gate was upheld by two white pillars, called respectively God-Fear and God- Trust ; and it had a key, named Obedience; and this, with the earnest charge and the solemn warning of the King, was entrusted to the man's custody. 13 2 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. SI I il i For a while all went well : the flowers un- folded to the rising sun, and gave forth their fragrance to the noon-day breeze ; the birds sang amongst the branches ; and creatures, all of theni gentle, basking in the sunshine or frolicking beneath the shady trees, gave life and grace to the scene. However, it happened that a stranger ap- proached the Garden-gate. This personage had at one time served under the King of Eternity, and had held a chieftain's post of high trust in his great palace ; but the pride of glory elated him, he corrupted his wisdom, and therefore was cast out from his high estate and driven from his honors. No longer a servant of thci King but an enemy, the aim of this personage was to injure his former lord. The King's palace was situated where he could not gain admittance to corrupt, and it entered his mind to seek an entrance into the Garden of Delights, in order that he might perchance vex the King by inducing its custodian to depart from his lord's purpose. This fallen chieftain knew very FAIR PROMISES. well that, so long as the man held the key of the Gate, entrance was for him impossible ; he therefore waited till he saw the wife of the man near the Gate, and addressed himself to her with flattering speech and fair promises. He told her, that by following his counsel she should rise to the level of the gods ; and she, strange to flattery, not used to deception, nor accustomed to the pleasures of false hope, gave him her attention. " The King your master," said he, '* limits you to part only of the pleasures which surround you. Do what I say. and be wise. Besides," he hinted, " your master knows that what you dread shall not take place." In her ignorance, she was beguiled ; then straigbcway arose in her a threefold craving — desires after feeding the flesh, desires after pleas- ing the eyes, and pride of life. She went imme- diately to her husband, persuading him to do as the stranger suggested, and he, fully aware oi what he was doing, deliberately unlocked the Gate. This done, the direst consequences ensued: a quaking fear seized them; the pillars of the Gate- 6 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. way fell down flat, breaking into countless frag- ments ; and the key, so earnestly confided to their keeping, was irrecoverably lost beneath the ruins. The disaster revealed to them their folly, and opened their eyes to their ingratitude ; they fled they knew not where, and tried to hide them- selves in the leafiest spot they could find. But the stranger helped them not. After this, the King came to his Garden of De- lights ; he beheld the ruin which was wrought, and at once recognised the hand of its author. He sought for the man and the woman. Their confidence in him had departed; fear of him — born upon the moment of their disobedience — had mastered them: but he called them from their hiding-place, and asked them what they had done. Instead of at once owning to the disobe- dience, they each ignobly laid the blame of their misdeeds upon the other, and both upon the stranger. Their excuses availed them not, they were forthwith driven out of their happy home, and through the very breach which, by folly and wilfulness, they had rent. ^i> THORNS AND THISTLES. It was not according- to the ways of the King to repair the ruin tlius effected; hence, for ever the Garden of Dehghts was a thing of the past, and entrance into it jealously prevented. But the King loved the man still, and accordingly he let fall a word of hope, by which these two, and their children after them, should be able to stay them- selves, even in the midst of their untoward cir- cumstances, and the power of which within them should strengthen them to look for a future even more excellent than the lost past. Being expelled from their home, the Garden of Delights, the two began to wander, and they pre- sently found a spot where thorns and thistles grew ; and there the man began his work, and the woman shed her tears, and both began to hope in the King's word and to look for the future. Here it was that their first-born son, who was born where the thorns and thistles c^rew, slew his younger brother in a fit of jealousy, and there- upon forsook his parents: nor them only, but also the word of hope, in which his brother trusted. 8 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. As time went on, this man-slayer, who was skilful and energetic, began to build a city, and by degrees he made it great He introduced into it mechanical science and inventions, and enliv- ened it with music and art. So his city began to be a noted place ; there was none like it upon the earth, of which, indeed, it became the centre. As the city increased, the citizens bethought them to elect a prince over them ; and amongst the candidates was the stranger whose guile had led to the opening of the Gat( of the Garden of Delights. He promised the citizens great things for themselves in the present, and a magnificent future for their city. In truth, a vast scheme filled his vision, a future redounding to his own glory .and his former lord's dishonor. The citizens willingly listened to him, and by racclamation made him their Prince; and upon the selfsame day they gave to their city the name of Progress. 1 ciiArTER ir. PHILOSOPHIC IDEAS. The ivjrld by wisdom kneiv not God. — i Cor. i. 21. This page of history — this parable, as the Wise Men of Progress describe it — neither accords witli the minds nor tastes of its present citizens, nor with the Hterature of the City, far less with the moral sense of its historians and philosophers: it will therefore be well to turn from the past to the present. From among many of their historic and philo- sophic ideas, a selection of two or three is now made from those which excite interest and debate amongst the citizens. There are Schools of Thought within the City, 1^ lO THE CITY OF PROGRESS. built up by many learned men ; and over these there arc professors. The present head of one of these Schools is Professor Choice-Selection: this gentleman thus accounts for the origin of his City. Ages ago, far back in eternity, the site whereon the City of Progress now stands, as well as the localities now occupied by the sun, moon, and stars, were filled with the countless hosts of the race of Tinies. These invisible creatures were ruled by the giant Median ical-P\)rce, \\liose arms stretch fiom north to south, and whose immeasur- able strength holds all niattcr in his grip. This giant — as conflicting winds stir the air and tear the rushing clouds to shreds — with his hands flung and tossed the race of Tinies everywhere, until at length, after millenniums of whirlings, they themselves acquired the spirit of unrest, and so of themselves dashed through space, bumping and thumping against each other. That was the Bumping-age, the period of in- cessant collisions, during VN-hich the weakest were either absorbed by their compatriots or were A MYSTERIOUS GODDESS. II thrust into nothingness, while the strongest grew bigger. Then followed the Fusion-age. As it is in the City of Progress in the present day, the strong overwhelm the weak, the crafty convey the riches of the foolish into their own coffers, the wise in business obtain the possessions of the incapable and absorb them, — even, according to the Pro- verbs, '* the weak go to the wall," *'the fittest sur- vive;" — so in those ancestral days the fusion of the Tinies arose out of absorption, emanating from collisions, and great shapes sprang up out of the falling foul of each other of these small people. Then did the Queen of all. Necessity, step upon the scene. She is that mysterious goddess who possesses neither mind nor body, who out of nothing produces something. This Queen fashioned confusion into order, and changed un- couth shapes into forms of beauty ; she filled the depths of space with suns and stars, and bade them roll on in their vast courses; and she bound them in their circuits into one harmonious whole 12 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. Ih i by bands of mystic sweetness, arising from the clustering brilliancy of far-off stars. This Queen built the mountains into their magnificence, crowned them with glistening snow, and clad them with verdant forests. She, know- ing nothing of herself and having no intentions, painted the feathers upon the wings of butterflies and sprinkled tinted dust upon the petals of flowers. She it was who framed the law of Beauty, which strange law — whether in far-off stars or in the deep places of might) oceans, whether in falling snow-flakes or in sparkling minerals from the bowels of the earth, whether in enduring mountains or in transient rainbows, whether in wings of birds that live a century or in feathers of insects that last but a day, whether in clouds sweeping over plains or embracing hills, whether in the colors of flowers or the varied green tints of their accompanying leaves — both everywhere and upon everything stamps its mystic and in- imitable mark. This Queen, too, formed men into life, and gave them powers of perception and reflection. NO-BACKBONEITES. 13 She it was who, by their law of being, made some minds poetical, others prosy, and some men righteous, and others knavish. She it was who laid the foundations of Progress, and gave the City its elements of greatness. Professor Self-Causation, the chief of another of the Schools, thus teaches : There is a country at the bottom of the sea called Mollusc-land, where the No-Backboneites live. In bygone years one of these people. Chance by name, began to feel his need of advancement. The desire to possess at least an infinitesimal approach to the idea of a germ of a backbone, penetrated his in- most being. By slow degrees this unquenchable longing so affected his constitution, that, by the aid of a powerful microscope, there possibly might have been seen the commencement of an organism effected in that part of his body where his spine should be. He bequeathed his desires, together with these first elements of backbone, to his son, who in turn transmitted them to his offspring. So it happened that, after millions of H THE CITY OF PROGRESS. generations, the family name became changed from No-Backboneites to Backboneites. This accomphshcd, the family — as is still customary with the citizens of Progress under similar cir- cumstances — since they had risen sociall}', re- garded it as proper to look down upon their original position in life as one altogether beneath their notice. One day one of these Chances bethought him to leave the bottom of the sea, and to come up higher still — so he came to shore. His successors, actuated by similar desires, after many changes at length adopted the pre- sent form of citizens of Progress. And to this day the moral activity of the citizens follows the principles of their ancestors, for the citizens es- cape from their low estate by acquiring a know- ledge of it, and grow up into the condition of goodness by leaving that state in which they were born. Having accomplished this, they scorn their past and pride themselves in their present ac- quirements. The future of his fellow-citizens, the Professor LATENT rOWKRS. IS asserts, w ill be worthy of their past and present. In due course tliey will, by the force of their desires, develop their latent powers ; their legs will become as numerous as those of a centipede, their eyes as manifold as those of a fly, their ears as acute as those of a mouse, their scent as keen as that of a blue-bottle, and their taste as true as that of a honey-bee. Besides which, there will be an acquirement of entirely new powers — such as wings and fins; of eel-like, electric force; of glow-worm like, self-illuminating powers; not to take note of the new and unnamed senses which the citizens wish to develop : and then neither air nor water, heaven nor hell, will impede their magnificent m:irch. 'SI i :!<' CHAPIER III. MORE PHILOSOPHIC IDEAS. /■^//y is set in great dignity. — Eccl. x. 6. In the School of Thought, of which Professor Comparative is the head, another theory is ad- vanced. Close by the City of Progress is the City of Apes. Neither city, says this Professor, possesses archives, but each is of pre-historic origin and of impenetrable antiquity. " Let facts speak for themselves," observes this learned gentleman, as he places side by side types of the two peoples. *^ Physically^ the Apeites, or at least several of them, have the advantage ; for most of their patriarchs enjoy spinal elongations — a highly APEITES. i; beneficial arrangement for the furtherance of gymnastic science, so much esteemed in Pro- gress — and these but very few of the citizens possess. Again, the skin of the Apeites being rough, while that of the citizens is smooth, the former have the superior place in an age of economy and simplicity of attire, for they are at no cost for clothes. Morally^ also, the balance favours the Apeites ; their constitution requiring neither standing armies, police regulations, pri- sons, temperance societies, nor even women's rights. Intellcctnally, however, the Apeites arc inferior to their neighbour's — the importance of affinity not having led any of their moralists to desire to claim kindred with the citizens of Pro- gress, nor the inconvenience of shivering having originated in any of their sages the art of light- ing a fire. Yet, even intellectually," observes the Professor (whc se great-great-grcat-grandson pro- poses, when he is born, to marry one of their family, provided the young lady will accept him), •' when the Apeites require a history, certainly they will manufacture one; and when they really u It tl i8 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. need fires, no doubt they will light them ; and when they require light, they will discover what *A. ' ft It IS. One more theory, that advanced by Professor Human-Responsibility, and then adieu to the Professors. This gentleman is a liberal-minded man, and agrees with all he can. He goes with other Schools of Thought as far as his principles will allow him ; for example, he accepts the hypo- thesis that the citizens of Progress being of a wormy ancestry arc naturally " of the earth, earthy," and being of a low origin arc con- sequently " essentially bestial." This Professor gives a reason for things moral, and finds it in the middle of the human heart. Says Professor Human-Responsibility : " In every citizen of Progress is a heart, in the centre of which is a hollow space wherein is located what is vulgarly called the will, scientifically termed molecules, but by the students of human nature named whispers within prompting the instincts of the heart or moral-cues. There is, in truth, PROFESSOR HUMAN-RESPONSIBILITY. 19 no such formation in the citizen as a will, but his emotional machinery is set in motion and his desires are stimulated by moral-cues. For in the heart-hollow these creatures hold their court, there they rush and whirl, expand and contract, irritate and agitate, incessantly. Now, moral-cues are exceedingly small, and in order to see into their inner being both a large eye and a powerful microscope are requisite. How- ever, one thing about them is evident from their action, namely, they possess a will of their own, which will actuates the mental machinery of each citizen. " The common sense explanation of all this," says Professor Human - Responsibility, '* is as follows. " It is very well known to scientific men that in bygone ages every body was a moral-cue, and that now moral-cues compose every body. Ex- ample : bricks and men are both formed of earth, which itself is simply compressed moral-cues, — hence both bricks and men possess a similar nature. That is to say, both have a tendency to i < 20 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. seek the level of the earth — bricks by falling thereupon when left to themselves, men by dc- gradinff themselves as low as possible. Starting from this ascertained fact, and by the aid of the microscope, in the cavities of bricks and in the heart-hollows of the citizens of Progress can be seen moral-cues at work, to whose energy is attributable this common downward gravita- tion. Thus it is evident that every body is a machine, the motive power of which is the moral-cue." It must be admitted th, ' no theory conceived by any mind in relation to matter can be more simple than this. One day Professor Human - Responsibility called upon a friend. He had not been long within the house before it happened that the moral-cues within him — whirling about in his heart-hollow as do animalculai in dirty water — so affected his emotional machinery that they wound him up to wishing for his friend's goods. His eyes began to covet and his fingers to itch ; and so, presently, his mouth was opened, and SCIENTIFIC COMMUNISM. 21 thus did his wormy qualities scientifically e::.press themselves. " Neighbour, the moral-cues within me would like me to possess myself of thy goods and chattels." " Surely ! " cried his friend ; " but the moral- cues inside me lead me to incline to retain pos- session of my house." " Doubtless, neighbour," replied the worthy Professor; "and your remark grieves me to the heart, but the moral-cues within mc will not allow me to leave this house ; ihey (not I) de- clare that henceforth it is mine. And now let us consider this matter abstractedly. Is not all mind and matter reducible to moral-cues, conse- quently are not all things one, and therefore all possessions the common property of all ? Why should any citizen call anything exclusively his own ? AVhether mind, body, or house, he is only a part of every body, and every body is a part of him." "True," his friend replied; "yet did not the moral-cues inside me lead me individually to I ■: ' i. ' 1 a II' » rf" m 22 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. count out the gold with which this house and its contents were purchased, for my own proper per- sonal use ? '' "Neighbour," the Professor said seriously, "thou knowest that the gold of which thou speakest is merely solidified moral-cues, like thyself. Gold is but thyself in another combination. Every- thing material is moralicular. Man is but a box of moral-cues." " I don't see it," was his neighbour's retort. " Quit my house instantly." Whereupon Professor Human-Responsibility calmly replied, "Thy house is moralicular. Thou and I are moral-cues. I stay." Then in that house was there a return to the Bumping-age, the period of incessant collisions, and the Queen of All, Necessity, of bygone aeons, stepped in upon the scene. Eventually the fittest survived, and what remained of Professor Human- Responsibility's box of moral-cues was cast into Kif::: .-It; CHAPTER IV. A VIEW OF THE CITY OF PROGRESS. til 9 \ i: i r Jl7to can tell a man zvhat sJiall pe after him ?— Eccl. vi. 12. The City of Progress of to-day is adorned on every hand by noble buildings, and its four great Broadways, Reformation, Agitation, Advance- ment, and Development, are among the wonders of the world. The chief rulers are elected for their activity, or their wealth of words ; and amongst these Mr. Do-good-to-yourself, the brothers To-and-fro, Mr. All-haste, and Mr. Wind-bag, are the most prominent. Building is carried on vigorously, and great works are in course of erection everywhere. There is also a vast amount of pulling-down t! \ \ 24 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. II ii going on, and a very great number of old houses arc coming to the ground all over the City. This is especially the case near the Improvement Broadway ; and hence there is not a little dust flying about the City of Progress. Indeed, the effect of pulling these old things down renders all garments of a kindred hue ; consequently, the man who wishes to show the color of his cloth needs always to carry a brush in his hand. On the most notable site in the City a huge building is being rapidly set up. It is dedicated to Popularity ; and to make room for it, two small and decayed temples which had been erected to Honor and Virtue have been rased to the ground. This great building is chiefly for the multitude, whose numbers prohibit them from taking pleasure in the ancient temples. It is said, that when the temple to Popularity is finished, there will be in it as many pillars as citizens in Progress, and also countless chambers suitable to devotees, each fitted up with a kneeling stool and a mirror. In the centre there is to be set up a brazen image, after the likeness of a man, with THE TRADING QUARTERS. 25 the world for its base, holding in one hand Time and in the other Eternity. The trading quarters of the City are models of convenience ; they arc furnished with every hu- man requirement, and everything under the sun can be bought there. Anyone may obtain a name for philanthropy by doing good to himself ; ap- plause by self-conceit; favour by flattery; honours by scheming ; love by money ; in a word, every- thing that Progress can afford. Each trader is jealous of his competitor, and denounces all other trades than his own as dishonest or immoral ; fathers teach their sons their tricks of trade ; and, according to the old proverb, " every man is a thief in his own occupation." The houses in which the most profitable trade is carried on be- long to the Father of Lies, an easy-going, popular man, who is the ground-landlord of a vast extent of property in the City. The public parks are exceedingly fine ; they are laid out in an elegant and picturesque manner, and are handsomely planted with the luxuriant Tree of Knowledge. This tree is so I 4 t 1 < \''\ I |:il i 26 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. much prized, that it is cultivated in both dwarf and giant varieties, and may be seen upon the window-sills of the poor and in the gardens of the rich. It is valuable both for use and ornament, and its leaves, fruit, and juices are all sought after. It is desired to make one wise, and is highly commended for opening the eyes. Recently a discovery has been made of a heal- ing property in this tree for every disorder of the inner man, for the Lust-of-thc-Flesh, the Lust-of-the-Eyes, and the Pride-of-Lifc, which at times break out in violent epidemics, and which always hang about the City in endemic form, and are called by the doctors Immorali- ties, Robberies, Tumults, Wars, Murders, and the like ; but whether to apply the medicine to the patient externally or internally, or whether to obtain the healing virtue of the tree from juice or fruit, leaf or root, remains at present a matter of dispute. While there is much discussion upon the solidified past, and not a little controversy upon the altering present, yet there is no con- THE GLORIOUS FUTURK. 27 tcntion about the unformed future ; for all exclaim, " The City's future will be glorious ! Soon every child will be a judge, and evciy servant a master. Distinctions will be swept away, both of body and mind, and obstructions of dialect and sex." '' And," add some, " soon there shall be no longer necessity for toil, for sorrow, for decay or death." ■ r I V\ u. CI I AFTER V. GENERAL IDEA OF THE SITUATION OF THE CITY. I i That 7vhich hath been is >io7v ; And that n i 111 i it a If! 1 f 1 h i ;l ^1 U ' 34 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. the sound of gladness is incessant, and the splendour unclouded. Upon this fair City some have gazed rap- turously, until the sinking sun casting his rich glow over its girdling sea, has traced a molten pathway of light and glory reaching from its very gates to the foot of the mountains. In- deed, some few tell of beholding the gates of pearl opened, and of watching the silver skiffs, freighted with travellers, entering in ; and then of hearing the far-off music of harpers, harping with their harps, and the distant joy-song of many voices — now tender as soft winds whisper- ing through ripened corn-fields — anon mighty as long waves breaking upon a shelving shore. Upon these mountains, rills and water-brooks, choice herbs, and pleasant fruits abound; the air is beyond measure invigorating, strengthening the travellers to climb the peaks and to perform great deeds. Travellers returning from these mountains describe in the streets of Progress what they have witnessed, and sing snatches of the songs JOY AT THE END. 35 t| they have learned there : whereupon the simple and the weary lift up their hands at the tidings. Then the travellers reply, that the way to these heights is as free as the air, and the hardships of the journey are not to be compared with the reward awaiting those who reach the end. i- in rr >rm LUIS hey M CHAPTER VII. REVEw^ ■ ONS OF THE TELESCOPE. Fooiis/tfUi' jJt'' !od. — I Cor. iii. 19. The good report of the travellers is an undis- guised source of weakness to the City of Pro- gress, and a constant irritation to its Prince. Indeed, in former years — fearing to lose the allegiance of his people — not infrequently the Prince had the travellers burned, sawn asunder, thrown to wild beasts, or otherwise tortured. These cruelties, he declared, were feasts in honor of genuine faith; and he himself presided over them, and inquired of the travellers how they fared, and how many hours it took a man to journey to the Everlasting City. Of late }'cars, SPECULATIVE TROSrECTS. 37 f ,1 though he hates the travellers as much as ever, he has changed his arbitrary plans for wily prac- tices. He now stigmatizes as fools or knaves all who adopt the language of the travellers, and turns their songs into ridicule. Before very long the Prince promises a con- clusion to all desires after travelling, and he lias specially retained the services of some of the most talented men in the City of Progress to accomplish this result. The seven Wise Men who can give an answc , and the calculators who can measure by how much the heavens are higher than the earth, and how far the east is from the west, are now earnestly engaged upon the scheme. They work with a will, for the words of the travellers are as thorns in their eyes, and a hindrance to the grand idea of the perfection of Progress. The centre, where the Wise Men assemble who are engaged upon this work, is the famous Observatory in the Development Broadway, wherein is fitted up the great Telescope, called Reason. In this building the speculations of ;j" n. 38 Tilt; CriV OK I'ROGRIiSS. I the learned men are made, chiefly during the hours of the night. They ah-eady are able to prove, by scientific analogy, the absurdity of the statements of the travellers; and to convince all who care to be convinced, by the evidence of the Telescope, that the Everlasting City has no existence save in tlie fevered vision of travellers. In due time, according to the negative princi- ples of these Wise Men, peering through the Tele- scope will supersede tra\'elling to the mountains. Already, and in anticipation of their projected millennial cT;3och, the Council of Education is correcting the old books of geography, and is about to issue a fresh edition, in which neither the locality nor the name of the Everlasting City will appear. The Observator\' is attractive, not only to the more educated of the citizens, but also to the ignorant, — for the Prince has had the most bril- liant gems from the city storehouses lavished upon its adornment. The foundation of the Observatory is set in solid and magnificent marble from the Pride quarries, and its steps PRACTICAL CONSIDERATIONS. 39 arc formed of polished slabs of the variegated stone Wise-in-yoiir-own-Conceits, The place is open free upon all days of the week, on the production of a ticket with '* Man's- Will " stamped upon it. A consideration of another kind is also taxing the brains of the Wise Men. They are considering, What fnially becomes of a citizen after he has gone down The-Way-of- all-Flcsh? Very costly experhnents have been under- taken in order to arrive at a conclusion, and very learned theories have been advanced upon the subject. Citizens in a state of dissolution have been studied by means of the spectrum, and have been watched on their journey through the Telescope ; but no sufficient answer, as yet, has been given to the question. Not long ago, it was agreed at one of their scientific assemblies that something must be done in the matter, and a practical test was mori resolved upon. Nothing bein prac tical than_chemistry, it was agreed that a commis- I ) I 1 H ii t. ■— 40 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. sion should conduct the chemical analysis of a citizen, and that the commissioners should pub- lish the result. The commissioners settled that the most prac- tical method would be to place a citizen of Progress in a retort, and to reduce him, bod}-, mind, and spirit, to I is elements. This being done, it was said, by means of careful observa- tions, discovery would be made of what these elements were, and, according to what such ele- ments were, would they have affinity ; then, to what these elements had affinity, to that would they connect themselves; and by noting to what they connected themselves, would be clearly shown what would be the end of a citizen of Progress. The commissioners decided that a citizen with a large mind was requisite to experiment upon, lest an ordinary mind should perchance evaporate or otherwise disappear in the analysis. A large-minded citizen was not easily pro- curable, but at length a noted philosopher, in the interests of science, kindly offered himself ^ THE END OF THE nilLOSOniER. 41 for the retort. He was accordingly scaled up tight, and reduced to his elements ; whereupon the commissioners discovered, by unfailing proofs, that all that remained of him was a little gas. This astonishing fact has oozed out, but the scientific deductions of the commission have not }'et been published. As the philosopher was a man whose mind and body were both very large, and whose spirit was far from small, there is quite a stir in some circles to know — at least if not what has become of his spirit, where his mind may be ; for the result seems incredible, chemistry notwithstanding, that all that is left of such a philosopher should be gas! -1 i » I • f « \ J. f 1 I l! i ■ {, fi I; I 1 CHAPTER VIII. THE KING'S SON. Then cn'td ihcy all — Not this imxti. — Jolin xviii. 40. The Evcrlastini^ City is ruled by the Kini^ of Eternit}', whose heart of love embraces the people of Progress. The King, some little time ago, sent his son to the City to announce to the citizens his ref^ard for them. It was bv ni^ht that the royal messenger entered Progress ; and the people were asleep. A glorious company from the ICverlasting City robed in shining light came to the outskirts of Progress, and with glad voices proclaimed his arrival, and then, according to their orders, hastened home again. The King's son, attired as a plain and poor THE rUTURE KINO. 43 man, went in and out amongst the citizens; he won his daily bread by work, and fulfilled his father's commands. Never before, never since, did Procrress see or hear a man like him. Words of kindness and of wisdom fell from his lips, new to the City, and, until he uttered them, unknown. His sayings are the wealthiest treasury of life and love that Progress contains, whilst the record of his deeds teaches men to lonq; for his kincfclom. The Kimr's son told the citizens the truth concerning themselves and their Prince, and warned them of his father's anger. More than this, he gave them to understand that the time would come when he should reign over their City; and he bade them cast out the evil from their midst, and repent. And, further, he told them that an end would come to the way of Pro- gress, and to its principles and its practices; and he bade them prepare for the coming kingdom. The common people heard him gladly — and with good reason, for none loved the poor as did he. Nor did hunger and sickness abide in his presence; his hands were full of bounty, and he r" i' ^ 44 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. gave freely. By his good deeds the people learned that when he should reign over their City, neither pang, nor want, nor sorrow should be kno^\ n in their streets. But the lords of the City envied him, and, urg'ng on the populace, they cast the King's son out from among them, thrusting him down the \Va^•-of-all- Flesh ; and as thcv did this, they cried, "We will not have this man to reign over us;" and with such violence did they shout, that the sound reached right up to the throne of the King of the Everlasting City. Then, after the lapse of three days the King's son returned to his o\\'n in Progress, and a few days later on, the King called him up to the ICverlasting City, and said to him, " Sit thou on my right hand, until I make thy enemies thy footstool." And there, still bearing the likeness of the citize'is of Progress, but withal too fair for eye of citizen to behold, and robed in ex- ceeding glory, he waits till the time appointed for the display of his power and the setting-up of his kingdom. Though the King's son was thrust out of the THE UNSEEN. 45 City, yet his coming to it wrought the greatest change in it that any city ever knew. lk\sidcs which, even unto this day many dwellers in rr(>- gress lament the treatment he received, and long for and wait for his coming again. After the King's son had returned home, he sent a formal mc-^cage to those in Progress v/ho were true to himself, bidding them wait for his kingdom, till he should come again ; and, in the interval, committed to them a sacred trust, whicli was to be nearer and dearer to them than their very lives. Special tools were given to them for the arduous work involved by this trust, and weapons from the arsenal of the Everlasting City for their protection. More than these: a mighty person, always unseen by the citizens of Progress, was sent by the King's son and by his father, to abide with and to strengthen his faithful followers, so that they, come what might, in Progress should know what transpired in the presence of the King, and continue loyal to the King's son. At the commencement of the work which the I I: i 11 ii f. i1 t\ •:!si; 'I t^ I r 46 Till': CnV OF rROGRESS. trust entailed upon the followers of the King's son, the few who entered upon it ^\•crc looked upon with contempt ; they were despised as the off-scouring of the City, and considered as fit only for feeding wild beasts and bonfires. But the more they were trodden down, the greater grew their numbers and their zeal. Kt9^*>w>^^*ff.n'^*^!iamm ? *1 CHAPTER IX. THE BEGINNING OF THE TEMPLE OF PROGRESS. One Body, whetht'r Jcivs or Gi'niilts.~\ C 1 I I; ^H: so THE CITY 01" TROGRESS. their work they were fallen upon by the soldiers of the Prince of Progress, and many were slain,, but the others held their ground. As they fought and worked, sword in one hand, trowel in the other, there rose up amongst them a man wliose unconquerable energy re- mains to this day an astonishment to all. He was formerly a leader amongst the noblest of the noble families of Progress. Put the King's son won him for himself, and ga\'e him the name of Worker, entrusting to liim the plan upon which his Temple should be built. The foundation was to be upon the solid rock ; the walls were to be four-square, accord- ing to the four quarters of the Cit\' ; the materials gold, silver, and precious stones, united by an invisible but enduring cement, the composition and the handling of which still remain a secret with the faithful builders. The roof was to be iiie blue lieavens ; and it was enjoined that there should be no side- light wliatever. The doorway — and this was strictly laid down — was to be so narrow that THE PLAN OF THE TEMPLE 51 only one man could enter it at a time, an d he was not to brin^c^ in cither the lust of the flesh, the lust of the e\'es, or the pride of life — valued by the citizens of Progress; and the door was named Strait. This noble servant was sorely hated by the Prince of Pro^^ress, who at length caught him and slew him. But before his death the man nailed this caution to the wall of the Temple, where it may yet be seen : — "According to the grace of God which is given unto mc, As a wise Master Puilder, I have laid the Foundation And anotlier biiildeth thereon, Put let every man take heed how he Iniildelh thereupon, For no other Foundation can any man lay than that is laid. {l/cir stood the name of the rock forming its foundation^ which is mno scarcely ici^il>Ie.'\ Now if any man build upon this Foundation Gold, Silver, Precious Stones- Wood, Hay, Stub])lc— Every man's Work shall be made manifest ; For The Day shall declare it. Because It shall be revealed by fire, And the F'ire shall try ever}' man's Work of what sort it is." i; n W'\ W ■MMMH 52 THE CITY OF rROGRKSS. Note — "If any man's Work abide, which he hath built upon the Foundaticjn, he shall receive a l\cwar{l. If any man's Work shall be burnt, he shall suffer Loss. . If any man defile the Temple, him shall Cod ilcfile. Witness my hand, WORKKR." From Worker's blood a voice still speaks ; the spirit of his enerc^y still labours on, and finds fresh vigour in the memory of his death. The Prince of Progress was outwitted by his own acts. In vain did he endeavour to destroy the rising Temple ; his fire only made the gold, silver, and precious stones of its walls shine the brighter, and appear the more beautiful; and to his flames it was also greatl)' due that so little wood, hay, and stubble were introduced into the building. As vegetation grows beneath sun and shower, so grew the Tem[)le by fire and blood. CllAI'lKR X. THE DKVKLOPMKNT OF THE TEMPLIC OV PROGRESS. 7Vie Iciisi » - !'< t I 1 t J 1 r w if 72 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. li' 1 " Oh ! this is what Doctor Conscience told me would certainly be my end. What shall I do ? " He was too ill to explain what it was that he dreaded, or indeed to say more — so with one or two friends I led him towards his house. As we did so, he recovered his physical powers; then he looked us in the face, with a strange but resolute gaze, and said, "I cannot stay with you. Go I must — it is destruction here;" and insisting on being left alone, v/alked away from us. " You had better keep near him ; his head seems affected ; or perhaps it is some speculation, or a love affair," my friends said to me; so I quickened my steps after my neighbour. lie walked on, and as I followed he hastened till he broke into a run, and soon went at such a speed that I completely lost sight of him. The disappearance of Mr. Ready-to-Pcrish from amongst us was a nine days' wonder amongst his old friends and neighbours. The usual charitable inferences from his behaviour were drawn, — he had gone mad — he had played a trick upon his creditors — he had escaped to MENTAL DISTURBANXES. 'I 73 fhboui to another country. But knowing my n personally as a sober-thinking, honest, and unimaginative man, the event had a strange influence upon me. I could not fathom its meaning, and it made me unaccountably de- pressed. One evening a friend called upon me to ask what was wrong with me, and why I had turned so melancholy. He spoke very kindly. He was/, considerably rny senior, and begged me to shake myself out of myself; *' for," he added, "you know- that melancholia and mental disturbances arc increasing in our City, and I do not want to sec you go off your head." So I related to him the behaviour of mv old neighbour, and the incidents of the evening wherw I was last with him. lie shrewdly asked if 1 thought that the notion of the comini^ of the King's son had in any way affected our neigh- bour's mind. " Not," added my friend, earnestly, " that I believe such things for one moment; but some minds are affected by these notions. The strongest minds, like armour-clad sliips, have SI I;, i; .« f'i ' ,! 'i'l f. M II 74 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. their weak points. And when a strong mind is reached through its weakness, it is in a worse case than with one which, like a wooden vessel, is weak all over ; an idea that goes in at one side of a weak mind, and out at the other, will literally explode in and shatter a strong one." Then, perhaps not so much to compliment as to console me, he suggested that if I could sec some of the people of the Temple, learned in the things relating to that edifice, and therefore authorities in matters concerning the King's son and his coming again, I should probably have my brain s^vcpt clear of its cobwebs, which, because of the effect produced upon me by Mr. Ready-to- Perish's strange behaviour, threatened to cover it. " Or, at all events," said he, " by thus occupying your mind, )'ou will have something to ccunteract the creeping influences of melancholia." 1 1' !* W CHAPTER XIII. PROFESSIONAL BUILDINGS. -ill I t» 1 in IV/iat is my reward iJtcn ? — i Cor. ix. 18. :t \ Mv friend's advice, or the latter part of it, I thought contained sound sense, so early the next morning I began my inquiry after the learned people of the Temple. It is said that no man is usually more ignorant of a country than he who is born there. The saying holds good of the citizens of ^Progress. Personally, I can bear witness to having] passed and re-passed many of the great buildings of my own city without entering or even thinking of entering them ; whereas, had I been in a foreign land, I should have obtained the services of a guide, and should have observed the buildings **; \n i:. IP i i 16 / THE CITY OF rROGRESS. from different points of view and searched them through and through. What is true respecting the ignorance of citizens regarding buildings, is seen even more distinctly in their manners and customs, which arc scarcely, if ever, noted by those who practice them; while to a foreigner the things of every-day life, down to the style of a dress or to the prattle of a child, arc equally strange and interesting. In the City of Progress there are streets and quarters which, cither by habit or by tacit under- standing, become devoted to different trades or classes. One of these is an old square, in which are situated the Professional Buildings, of these for years I remained in ignorance and unconcern, simply because the square and the buildings \\'erc known to everybody in the City. The Professional l^uildings are in that part of the City where the officers over the workmen of the Temple most frequently reside. Led by the instinct of my desires, with no settled plan, I found myself looking about mx early in the morning in this square, and with the eyes rather \ A MOST DIFFICULT CHOICE. 77 of a foreigner tban of a citizen; and tlnis my soul took note for the first time of things which my c\'cs had seen a hundred times. There is no distinguishing style of architecture in Professional Building's, the dwellincrs beincf formed according to the wants of their tenants, and ranging from the ill-furnished and insigni- ficant prophet's chamber to the luxurious and stately ecclesiastical palace. Some of the houses are old and in a state of decay; others not too modern to be considered without a history, arc fitted up with all the most recent improvements of the Citw ml Jkit that mornincr I was thinkincr rather of the inmates than of their residences, for there was somethincf within me which lonircd after I knew not what. Still, those houses in the hush of the early morning had a strange effect upon mc — not ...nlikc that of a row of doctors' residences upon a man whose ignorance of the merits of the respective physicians hinders his knocking at any one door, yet whose sense of sickness detains him in their neighbourhood. if ■i I. ii L /8 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. While thus doubtful I chanced to read upon the door of the oldest building in the square, in letters almost worn away by time, a strange inscription — one, indeed, so peculiar that to this hour I remember it well. These were the words: — " God's ministers for Ilim should work; His ministry should toll; And all mIio are Ills servants true, May in this College dwell. Then ye wlio have His grace Avith us A Improve yourselves His servants, thus: — Tn much patience, In altiictions, In necessities, In distresses, In stripes. In imprisonments, In tumult Sj, In labours, In watchings, In fastings." I pondered over these words for a considerable time, till they so fascinated me that I was held by the eager desire of seeing him. or them, who dwelt within doors. As knocking went for nothing, I ! in ?c us IC A DESERTED HABITATION. 79 made bold to lift the latch, whereupon the door, not being fastened within, readily opened to my push. As it slowly swung back, creaking upon its rusted hinges, the morning light shone across a writing upon the wall, which ran thus: — ** Master ! Thy servants' hearts incline To patience much ! Afllictions nine Furnish our house —which once was Thine ! We would not greater be tlian Thou, Master, when suffering crowned Thy brow." There were some further lines, but so very much worn that I could not decipher thern. However, I traced some of the words, namely, ''promise," "throne," "rest": but do what I v/ould I could not frame the sentence. Then the inscription continued in larger letters, very easily legible — " Ye servants read, and ye shall tell How in this house a man may dwell — By pureness, I5y knowledge, By long-suffering, By kindness, By the Holy Ghost, By love unfeigned, il « X 'mJ * ' > n l.ll 1 80 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. By the love of truth, By the power of God, By the armour of righteousness on the riglit hand and on the left. By honour and dishonour, By evil report and good report. Servants of Him who lives in Heaven, If ye have read these Bys eleven, Approve yourselves amongst these seven — As deceivers, and yet true, As unknown, and yet well known. As dying, and behold we live. As chastened, and not killed, As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing, As poor, yet making many rich, As having nothing, and yet possessing all tilings." Not seeing anyone within the place, I called loudly; but the house was as still as death, so I returned into the square. Immediately opposite this small lodging-place stand the palatial residences of the three greatest persons in Professional Buildings — the dignitaries Purple, Scarlet, and Lawn. My calling loudly at the early morning hour apparently disturbed these personages, for from each mansion servants carne running to stop my voice. THE SPIRITS OF THE PAST. Si One, a scarlct-livcricd footman roughly asked me my business. He was inclined to think I had been indulging in the festiv^itics of Progress, and had lost my way; but no sooner did he hear what it was that I wanted, than, lowering his voice, with a wink he whispered, " The sooner you are away from my master's neighbourhood the better, for he little likes the spirits of the past. He is very superstitious, and did he know your intention he might think that one of the ghosts of that old house would be raised to visit him." To this, on behalf of their respective masters, the purple and the lawn liveried foot- men agreed. " The present and the past are remarkably unlike," muttered I, as I strolled further down the square; and while so doing, read on various brass plates affixed to the doors the titles of those within — " The Reverend," " Status in Society," occurring most frequently. While scanning the inscriptions upon the doors, a passer-by thus addressed me: " You arc in the professional quarters of the * \ '•I .1 ' 1\\ i I 82 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. I " great City of Progress. These buildings arc inhabited by persons of reputation and degree. The antiquated house in which you interested yourself is too old for present use, and too narrow for the advanced customs of the times; it was built when the Temple was in its infancy, and was regarded by the citizens as the abode of fools appointed to death, who were a spectacle unto the world and to angels and to men. These modern constructions arc in cliief part the abodes of those who are rich, who are full, who reign as kings before the coming of the King's son and his kingdom — people wise in their generation and respected by the citizens." Then, noting my expression of astonishment and perplexity, he added, " Nevertheless, all these profess to serve the King's son, and to look to him for reward ; and such being the case, he holds them to his word — * If any man serve me, let him follow me:' ' the servant is not greater than his lord:' Tf ye know these things, happy arc ye if ye do them.' Each of these personages will have to render an account to Till-; SERVANTS OF lUE TIMllS. 83 him, — those who say in tlicir hearts, ' Our lord clcla}-cth his coming;' those who smite their fellow-servants, and eat and drink with the drunken, and those who act as lords over the heritage; as well as those who arc examples to their fellow-servants and faithful to their master; — for though these buildings do dishonor to the King's son, yet there are men in perhaps all of them who honor him. ** When he comes," and my informant spoke in tones of deep distress, " there will be cutting asunder, \\eeping and wailing, and a portion with the hypocrites. Oh! that the ancient house, furnished as you have read, might once more find tenants ! Yet be not discouraijed. You wish to obtain advice from the learned men of the Temple, and to obtain instruction from the instructed there. Go, then, as a blind man whose eyes have just been opened. IJefore you is the great Court-}'ard ; its doors arc never shut. May peace attend your steps !" : » ; 1 '* '! 1 fi: 1 If % > «^' 4 '\ 'il 1 ^'i: ffl '1 ill «rVi %> .%. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 't IIIM ■ lilM ;■ IIIM 11^ 12.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" ► % ^' "^m /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 4^ V \ \ A*^ "^ 0. ^ <^ 6^ ^•v > ' i 1(1 I ( CHAPTER XIV. THE COURT-YARD OF THE TEMPLE OF PROGRESS. To linxw n'iuiy dlscipL's a/.'cr i/tciii. — Acts x.\, 30. The sun shone cheerfully, and the fresh breeze hastened the morninc^^ clouds across the clear blue sky, as I stood wistfully gazinc^ at the Court-yard gate. Within the enclosure there were as }'et but few signs of life. Some men — officials, appar- ently — hung about the entrances to the various Courts, looking like sentinel-bees at their hive doors; but upon the great Court-}'ard were no other shadows than those of the passing clouds and myself. As I scanned the familiar entrances, strange feelings came over me, and I anxiously con- bSnOMtafiUMfnMMVMaMMH'M TRUTH, NOT TEMPLF-S. S5 sidcrcd by which door I should enter the Temple, or by what principle I should guide my choice. It was neither curiosity nor routine that had led me there that morning — but desire. How majestic did the Temple appear; a noble pile, truly, towering up in its glory to the very heavens, and stretching in a long array of Courts as if it would cover the whole earth. " Somewhere in this mighty place," sighed I, " am I to find an answer to the longings of my soul ! Temples may be great, but the heart of man is greater — Truth, not the Temple, satis- fies." As I halted and hesitated, a venerable man of commanding appearance accosted me; became from the Temple, but out of which entrance I do not know. lie heard my story, and then said, in a silver toned voice, " Vou have done well, my son, in coming hither; I perceive that your soul drinks in the glories of this vast edifice : follow me. " Sir," said I, " I wish to know whether It be true that the King's son is coming to this City 1 .1 •Wj: i til- mmmmmmmm 9 II 86 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. I m 1,1' with his armies, and how his friendship may be obtained." " Cast the burden of your mind upon me, my son," answered he; "simply follow me, and you shall learn all that you wish to know." As I followed him across the Court-}'ard, I anxiously looked at the many Courts and their respective gateways, and enquired which of their number might be the chief, and which was the acknowledged entrance to the whole. Father-like, yet chidingly, he replied, " My son, follow me: there is but one Temple, and but one entrance, and also but one voice uttered by the Temple — a voice which has not failed these " Before he could complete his sentence, as the words were leaving his lips there rushed out from the Temple a man in violent wrath. He roughly pushed the venerable man aside, and shouted in his face, "Tradition, away." And turning to me he cried, in the same rough voice, " The fellow is a forger of lies, — heed him not." Whereupon Tradition, with more than the SAVAGE CONTROVERSIES. 87 strength of youth, seized the interrupter, and shaking him fiercely, hissed at him through his clenched teeth, '* Protestor, objector, faggot of negatives, fit only for the fire of hell, would you lead this youth down to your own per- dition ? " The two struggled violently, and the noise of their strife speedily brought a number of persons into the quiet Court-yard, and changed it into a scene of wild activity. From the various Courts issued several officials — perhaps gate-keepers ; and these, to my intense surprise, instead of seeking to cool or to separate the combatants, began, some warily, some wildly, a free fight amongst themselves. Riots in the streets of Progress I had often seen, but there fighting is carried on under the most considerate and humane of laws. Indeed, so refined are the laws regulating murder in the City of Progress, that the only wonder is that what is spoken of as slaughter is lawful. Put such a merciless and unfiiir struggling, such biting and devouring of one another as took place in the Court-yard of k' i ♦fr f'l ! 1 f I 88 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. Ill m the Temple, was new to me. It was more like the persistent and exterminating fury of con- flicting hives of bees than anything else I have witnessed. What gave this pecuh'ar strife at first an amusing, though afterwards a painful, interest to nic, was the discovery that I was regarded in the light of a prize to be captured. Yes, I ! — who from my childhood, as a listless visitor to the Temple, had been unnoticed by any one of its officials, and who might surely have been laid hands on years before, had I been thought worthy of the pains ! Thus, while they stung each other with bitter words, and belaboured each other's spirits with violent language, their eyes were upon me ; and if, perchance, I in- clined, or even looked, towards one gate-keeper, then another would pull my ear towards him- self; and, while torn between these two, a third would force me back by my hair in his direction, or a fourth would trip up my feet to make mc lean his way. So that, in self-defence — though not knowing for what I contended, unless it »*,v«-lta mmmmmKmmimmim^mmimmm^mmiimmmvmfmmii'* T.AVING ON or IIAXDS. 89 were for breathing-room — I too was fain to battle in tlie general strife. During a momentary lull, I shouted again: " Sirs ! is it true that the King's son is coming to this City?" and, "Is there pardon for the rebellious?" But this made matters worse, for amid a medley of replies and a common declaration of creeds, which supplied me with no answer, a fiercer laying-on of hands upon me than ever followed, and a more furious conflict amongst the gi.tc-keepers, in the midst of which, by a desperate SL>aggle, I escaped, panting, from the fight. The effect of my question was thus my sal- vation, for while it gave rise to disputing amongst the gate-keepers hotter than before, the hands that held me were loosed to grij) their adversaries ; and I doubt whether, when the battle was over, I was missed by even one o f the m. n As I was about to leave the Court-yard i disgust and despair, a stately man bade me i * !| \ A ;(' i 1 HI 1 ii :i i !i ii 90 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. stop. His face was calm but sad, and dignity wreathed his brow. "A burning fire is in my bones ; I am weary of forbearing, and cannot stay," he exclaimed. " Oh ! that men did contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints, and not for creeds! The King's son will surely come again to this City of Progress, for such is his word. And there is free pardon for all who seek it, for he has said it." He placed in my hands a copy of the ancient Book which is kept within the Temple, bidding me read that and learn. As he led me quietly but quickly further from the still struggling throng, he explained to me that the Temple contained in it, not only the principles and practices of Progress, but that the Temple was also the only pillar and ground of the truth in the City ; and hence the Book was found there. " Yes, the hand of the King's son," he said, " will soon be felt in the Temple and afterwards in the streets of Progress. Now, see to it that you are ready, so that when he comes you may READING AND RUNNING. 91 not be found amongst his foes, whom he will make his footstool. " Now take }'our journey to the Faith Moun- tains. Your way will be beset with difficulties; but one hour of the air, and of the sights and sounds of those heights, is worth ten thousand life-times spent within these City walls." Then I read in golden letters upon the cover of the Book, " i\Iake it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it ; " and, hardly con- scious whether I was indeed myself, or whether the earth was still the earth, I began my journey towards the faint blue distant line of mountains. Seeing this, he who had c^iven me the l^ook cried after me, " If the truth shall make you free, then shall you be free indeed." .1 ' it i^ t'\ I ■• ■1' 1 •n; . . * .1:1 CHAPTER XV. A VERY OLD ROiVD. :. I ■,"■> W: ! i The U'ork cf their own J:aiuh.~\^'^.\\ 8. Before I had been on my journey many hours, I learned that there was an energy without as well as within the City of Progress; for I found, to my surprise, that instead of being alone upon a dreary road, my difficulty rather lay in select- ing my companions. Men, women, and children — like birds flitting across the autumn sky — were hasting, some in companies, some singly, along the plain which surrounds the old City. In one thing they were all agreed : their birthplace did not satisfy them, nor did its glories fulfil their desires. Yet I could wmmm AS OLD AS ADAM. 93 have wished m}'seh'" solltai*)', for amongst the travellers there were the most diverse judLjment.s upon the principle of travellini^, and tlie way to be trod. A track extolled by one would be de- nounced by others, and the various c^uide-books possessed by many were as diverse as the minds of their compilers — not a few of wliom, by the evidence of their own experiences, it was clear to the simplest of travellers had never been so much as a day's journey outside the City walls. Wandering on, I came to an old sign-post, which pointed to the Everlasting City. Upon its arm was written this quaint doggerel: — Ji- ll " I am the Sign-post : Travail is the Way ! And old as ancient Adam, people say ; Haste along, Pilgrim, Do not delay." This, then, thought I, is that of which I have read; a Way for wayfaring men, who, should they be fools, with so plain a direction need not err therein. The exercise of walking rendered good scr- ■m m » • ; •/ n 4 ill"' p. 1 1 1 1 94 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. vice to my nerves, and I stepped blithely for- ward. Presently I came to a man with hammer and chisel in his hand, who was eyeing the ground for specimens. lie introduced himself to mc as Mr. Geologist, and told mc that he could read the language of the earth — adding, that because of an argument he had lately had with a friend, respecting the Way of Travail, he was sr -ending a few hours in studying the materials of which it was composed. *' You are a traveller from the scientific City of Progress, I perceive; let me, then, inspire you with desires to learn the character of the ground upon which you tread before you take another step. There arc ' sermons In stones,' as one of your poets has said." As I seemed unwilling to delay my journey, Mr. Geologist laid hold of my sleeve and began, with the earnestness of a scientific explorer, to ex- plain to me the characteristics of the road as evi- denced by the materials used in its construction. " It is the most remarkable road in the world. ' NEW, NOT NOVKL. 95 Never has man formed such another. It Is the wonder of all who study it. History declares that it was commenced some six thousand }'ears ago, and lias had the skill of generations of engineers expended upon it. Untold wealth, also, has been directed towards its completion, and still it is not finished." Then, diving into the satchel which was slung acioss his shoulders, he drev.- out a fossil, saying, "This stone I found imbedded in the mortar of one of the most ancient of the bridges which diis road possesses; and the bridge is nearly as ancient as the oldest part of the road. The interesting fact is, that this very type of fossil is to be found scattered all along the road; and it may be discovered in its most modern as well as in its most ancient parts. Now, what is the type of this fossil? Wc recognize it as one peculiar to the Rocks-of-the- Flesh formation, which we geologists are all agreed were upheaved when the Waters-of-Sin burst out. The deduction is simple, — it is this: the engineers, past and present, engaged upon this road have obtained their materials from the ;!t' ■\ 'fii •< :#| 'iM. <'i;; 11 ti m ■ m 4 96 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. 1 same quarries; an interesting fact, not to be gainsaid," " Now, look you at this specimen," and Mr. Geologist produced a different kind of stone. ** See how it sparkles ! You might take it for a gem ! But it is not fit even for road-mending. See!" and, tapping it with his hammer, it fell into atoms in his Jiand ; " it is merely com- pressed sand, and b}' its characteristics we know that it has been brought hither from the Sand- pits of Modern-Religiousness." " The road," Mr. Geologist ardently continued, " is most interesting. We may form a fair judg- ment of engineers by the materials which they use. ' ]?y their works yc shall know them.' Personally, I am assured that a road made of such materials is fit only for sunny climes. It may suit well enough for a cloudless climate, where buildings made of mud and slime may stand for centuries; but where rains descend and floods rise it will never avail. What may be ahead of you, I know not." Having bidden Mr. Geologist good afternoon, I *'m NOT CALCULATED OX. 97 I continued my way. How much further I might have gone upon it I can hardly tell, had I not fallen in with a workman who was returning from his day's labor. I inquired of him how many miles further on it was to the Everlasting City. "Bless ye, sir," he answered, "nobody knows that. I have been working on this road the best part of my lifetime — keeping bits of it in order, and that like. It was many a year ago when the foreman says to me, 'Come, Hopeless' (that's my name, sir), ' work you for Mr. Super- erogation, governor of the Congregation of the Dead ; he's the master.' So I came on, and have been working on this road ever since. Well, Mr. Supererogation was to get a fortune out of it, and all of us working men were to be well paid. But it's the river, sir, — that beats them. ' "What do you mean," inquired I, " by the river?" "They can't get a bridge across Ic; there's nothing on the other side to hold to." " What river ? I do not understand you, Hopeless," said I. < f I ! i. ^ i ' ) ^-^ i !■- 93 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. : 3( " Why, the river, to be sure, that runs down into the Sea of Death. Sure, sir, you know all about that, — you don't need to be taught by a working man Hkc me. It's tlie river they call Disobedience, and sometimes it has less and sometimes more water in it, according to the weather. I ha\e seen it wash away in a night all the works my master had put up in a \-ear. I believe he's more like to be ruined than that he's like to make a fortune out of this job; nor do I believe that they will ever finish the bridge and the road. But that's no business of mine, sirr I work for my living." And with this he bade me good day. ■ I CHAPTER XVI. W AN OLD IIOSriTAL. Cjoci, if a viiin use it lawfully. — i Tiiii. i S. tff^ Circumstances have a powerful effect upon the mind, and influence the judgment as strongly, and often as permanently, as the unseen sea- wind does the trees growing upon the shore. Once more I fell in with the people who were hasting across the plain. Some of the travellers bent their steps in one direction, because a path- way was trampled out before them ; some fol- lowed another course, because their guide-books had been paid for out of their own pockets, and they did not like to waste their money ; and some stepped blithely forward, because the com- pany in which they were pleased them. One E 2 I ^ :ii i 100 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. Mi ! • ■ & ■ I' 4 lii thing was evident — each traveller's destiny de- pended upon his own steps. After some hours of walking, I overtook a company of persons zealously plodding along a well-trodden track. Whether hap, or like-nature, drew me amongst them, I know not; but I was soon in their midst, listening to the chief spokes- man. " You must be aware," said he, " that the climbing of mountains is a task which taxes a man's encrurance. We are not of the mountains, but of the plains, by birth, and therefore heights and crags are not natural to us. Hence, we re- quire preliminary training; and so we go to the Law-l^^stablishment }-onder, where not only is exercise to be undergone qualifying for moun- taineering, but where also any who arc not strong enough for the task, can obtain strengthening treatm.ent." Falling back a little amongst the company, I observed that several of the number seemed out of health: one had an Evil-eye, another a Foul- mouth, a third had Fect-swift-to-shed-blood ; not VARIOUS COM PLAT NTS. lOI a few were dis^i^urcd witli a skin-disease called Vain-glory, or were afflicted with the ner\ous twitch called Self-conceit; while Ileadiness and Highmindedness so sorely interfered with the walking powers of others that they could not keep to a straight line. Now the human frame is readily affected by the sufferings of others, and I soon found that I was looking within myself to find the symptoms of sickness which I perceived in my companions; and presently I began to feel peculiar sensations. Thus we went forward till we reached the Law- Establishment. It is a building half for pleasure and lialf for pain — a mixture between hotel and hospital. Within the same walls are heard the laughter of the strong and the groans 'of the weak. The idea of the place is to combine the requirements of appetite with medical attention, and to occupy the patient or the guest with himself, and yet not to make him melancholic — while all these attractions arc especially set out for such as possess but slender means. I t t i I ' f ■ ' ■] I'i 1 ' I . ■! '■ \ 102 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. p-j I III ■ Some seemed to enjoy the Establishment im- mensely, while others were the very picture of miocry; and all talked incessantly over their own and their friends' complaints — which I cannot but thir^k tended to retain them in the Establisl> mcnt, rather than to restore their health. Perhaps I should have been at home there for a time, had it not been that I happencfl to see a young man whom I used to know in Progress, who was serving as a medical assistant under the physician of the EstablishniCnt. Heal-others, the young man in question, was, like most students, very warm and enthusiastic about his profession ; and I, being an old friend, niust needs go with him into every corner of the building. lie first took me into the room where those who needed the services of the physician were waiting. Heal-others was soon chatting with some of these, and I heard him inquire of a young man who complained of a little weak- ness, where he came from and what he wanted of the doctor. " Oh ! I have not been here long," said the TREVAILING WEAKNESS. 103 stranger. " I am Mr. Ailing, of Not-worsc-than- your-Ncighbours Street ; and I merely require a little strength.^' I knew that street well, for it forms part of the long street in which my old neighbour Mr. Rcady-to-Perish dwelt, only he lived in the lower end of it, where it goes by a different naine — Graceless Street. So I was very much interested to hear Mr. Ailing's description of himself Ileal-others told him that now-a-days vv-ant of strength, or being a little weak, was what ever}'body seemed to suffer from, and this comforted ]Mr. Ailing exceedingly; however, when he went into the physician's private room, I learned that he v/as anything but comfortable. "You say vou live in Not- worse than your- Neighbours Street, I think?" " Yes, doctor," replied the young man. "The death-rate is very high there; it is the most unhealthy part of Progress, sir. I advise you to change your residence as quickly as possible. Now, if you please, I will examine you." I, * n m li f I i '1 104 THE CITV OF PROGRESS. I ^ ! I : ^?* ;f ' As he did this, the physician shook his head, and said to himself, "Tongue has used deceit; mouth full of bitterness; eyes without fear of God." He then prescribed for young Mr. Ailing, who was so confused and upset that when he came out, if I mistake not, he went straight back home, and as he reached his door found that he had lost the doctor's prescription. Be that as it ma) , he took neither the doctor's advice nor his medicine. Amongst those who were waiting to see the physician — whose name, Dr. Insist, should have been mentioned before — was a woman of a very nervous temperament, and who talked a great deal. She complained much of her heart, and of dreadful things which she believed came from it. She had the notion that her complaint was Stony-heart, because almost all of her family had died of that disease. Then she would begin, in a hysterical way, to weep and say, that with such a bad heart as hers it was impossible ever to endure the exertion of climbing the mountain. . A SERIOUS CASE. lO: I learned that Dr. Insist prescribed for lier with a view to touch her comphiint in siicli a way, that she should herself turn her heart into a heart of flesh ; but whether she took his medicines I know not. As I did not feel a sufficient interest in the theory of the Law-Establishment to please ITcal- others, for my tastes are not medical, he must needs next take me to witness the practice of the place. Upon this business, I went with him by constraint, and merely out of old friendship. He led me into a large room, containinc^ several beds, all of w^hich were occupied. Upon one of these lay a man who was being con- sumed by a disease called inability. On his bed- card Dr. Insist had written, " To do his duty towards God." " Will he ever get well ? " I whispered to my friend. "Oh, no," said Ileal-others, "but we have to take all sorts into our l^stablishment, you know." Another was continually moaning," O wretched I I I I f'l i ( I ■w % T 1 06 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. I man that I am!" Of him my friend could not say whether he would live or die. Hcal-others seemed to take an acutely pro- fessional interest in the various patients, for to my remark, *' What agonies they suffer," he replied, "Very interesting cases." There was one poor creature whose case par- ticularly struck me; he was afflicted with some internal disorder, and yet, until the doctor's treatment, was insensible to pain. Dr. Insist had asked him if he felt the sensation of lusting, and when he replied, " No," the doctor applied an instrument called Desire to him ; whereupon the poor man was seized with a fit of covetous- ness, and was, when I saw him, still convulsed. " He " many of these reach the top of the Faith Mountains, Heal-others ? " I inquired. " Really, I do not know," he replied, " for I am so engaged in attending to the sick and in studying my profession that I have not gone into statistics." . While we were speaking, he led me down a back staircase, and there, as providence would LEAVING THE PHYSICIAN. lo; have it, I saw the way out of the Law-Kstab- h'shmcnt. It was growing dark, and what I had licarJ aroused within me certain misq:ivincTs. Some long time after this, being in a different locaHty, I made the acquaintance of Mr. Grace, who gave me certain information respecting the patients in the I.aw-EstabHshment. Mr. Grace said that none of tliem had im- proved in health; indeed, that under Dr. Insist they rather grew worse, or a[)peared to be worse ; and this result was due not sim})ly to the system of the Law-Establishment, but chiefly to the fact of the bad constitutions of the patients, whose inherent weakness rendered the medicine of no effect. " Nevertheless," said Mr. Grace, who was the kindest of men, " v/hosoever will, may climb the Faith Mountains, but not so long as he remains in the Law-Establishment." ■i I- 11 ■y ti I CIIAITKK XVI r. AN OLD INN. Arc yc so foolish''. Ifaz'ing I'cgtin in the S/>iyit, arc yc nto Jiiade /cr/cct l>y the J?cshl—Ga.\. iii. 3. With the growing darkness my difficulties in- creased. The ground beneath my feet became less and less secure. I stumbled over stones, plunged into pools, and at last was fairly held fast by the sinking soil. Whilst bogged, and up to my shoulders in reeds and rushes, and scarcely daring to move, a light flashed and flitted before me. Any light is hailed in the gloom. Ship- wrecked mariners have before now thanked providence even for the wrecker's torch, and broken hearts have blessed even deceivers for A WKETCIlKi) NUilir. 109 their smiles. Whether it was a will-o'-the-wisp or a f,ruardian angel leading me, I knew not; but after much stumblinif ihrouLrh mire and \\ater I gained the door of what pro\ed to be an Lin. It was midnight, and tlic house was still ; but at length an overworked and half-asleep servant girl opened the door, and after telling me that there was no fire, and only Isaiah's bed to be had, left me. I tried to warm myself with some sparks of my own kindling, and then betook my shivering self to the bed, which was shorter than a man could stretch himself on, and the covering nar- rower than he could wrap himself in. It was the worst bed and the most wretched nici^ht I ever experienced; almost sufficient to deter anyone from leaving the comfortable City of Progress. In the morning the company assembled in the only public room of which the Out-of-the- way-Inn boasted. However, Mr. Feelings, the proprietor, did his best to keep us from leaving him. He was hardly a genial person. He had a I . mI|I..„1MiJUIIIIIII i n I* I ^ f » no THE CITY OF TROGRESS. long face by nature, although he had what he called his bn\dit seasons. Of such a table as he spread it was never before, nor has it been since, my lot to partake. Self-experiences served for bread and lamentations-about-self for water, neither of which are palatable. Mr. Feelings strongly commended some dishes of his own preparation, especially a little one spiced with complacency; and a large one which he described as resources-within, he said was sweet and toothsome. To my taste they were sour and ill-cooked, but I was too hungry not to make a meal off them. The company was as singular as the dishes. Diverse as each guest was from the other, all seemed to have an affinity of taste and to like the fare. Certainly they were all agreed that Vvhat Mr. Feelings provided for the inner man could not be otherwise than whulosomc. Upon my recounting the night's discomforts I received some kindly looks, but when I inquired if any of those present had seen the Everlasting City, all dropped their eyelids, and, with sighs, in >.' y^U. ' BAD WEATHER. Ill almost inaudible tones, replied that they hoped to do so. Frequenters of the Inn complained of habitual mist and cloud, but cheered themselves by sayin^^ they were only waiting for a promising day for their journey. The proprietor told us that at times splendid views were to be had from his windows, and that on fine days and with strong eyes the shepherds and travellers on the moun- tains might be easily discerned. A gentleman, whose name 1 learned was Mr. Self-strength, sat at the head of the table, by right of his lengthened stay in the Inn. He was a very old man indeed. Mrs. Try, a lame little woman, very chatty, sat on his right. She, too, was advanced in years. "She was always hoping," she said, ''but as yet had never had more than a hope of seeing the Everlasting City." She told me that as recently as the previous morning she thought of starting for the journey, but was delayed through not being able to clear up her accounts with the proprietor in time for the weather; adding, f {■•■ \ I. \ M !(•■: Jk P»W" *iM 112 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. " that keeping accounts had always been a difficulty with her from her childhood." Hearing her, a Mr. Dudgeon, who was on Mr. Self-strength's left, answered, "Ah, Madam, I can sympathise with you, for I fear I shall have to return to my mansion in the Vale of Dust without so much as seeing even what you hope to do. I can hardly expect a sight of even a small portion of it. Yet I have heard some travellers tell that they have beheld the sun shining upon patches of the mountains, which they have seen high above their heads, through cloud-rents, as birds hovering with out- spread wings; but as for me, it has been cloud, cloud, continually. 15c^:ides which, my sight does not improve with advancing years." Here another of the travellers, Mr. Unstable, related how he had in his young days climbed the mountains half-way, when, coming to a dan- gerous place, he had slipped, and had nearly broken his neck. I will not record the conversation of the younger portion of the company — of the Ups- ROBIiED. in and-downs, Ncver-surcs, and Change-colors, who were also staying at this Inn ; but will simply add, that I was either robbed of m}' purse or lost my money at the place, and that it was only after some angry words and no little violence to ]\Ir. Feelings, that I managed to leave the shelter of his house. After an interval, and at about the time of my making the friendship of Mr. Grace, my unceremonious mode of departure pressed so heavily upon me that I wrote l\Ir. hVelings a few lines explanatory of my inability to pay his bill:— i- : " Sir, — I left the Out-of-the-way-Inn in your debt ! Neither can I nor shall I discharcrc it. None of your food satisfied me, your bed did not afford me rest. "Kindly inform Mr. Self-strength that if he would learn what strength is, he must turn from himself; Mistress Try, that she shall find by giving up effort; Mr. ]J)udge(jn, that it is not a long face but faith which opens the door of ■MMB iiji i 114 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. gladness; Mr Unstable, that his name shall be changed when he believes. And as to the rest of the company, I pray, Mr. Feelings, that Trust, the gracious servant of the King, may lead each one far from your shelter, for, despite your sanc- timonious appearance and humble voice, you are the greatest impostor that ever robbed travellers to the Faith Mountains." 1: Thfy I.uut 02ir steps. — Lamentations iv. i3. To be penniless was at first intensely trying, but it sharpened my eyes to look out for help. The experiences, too, through which I had passed led me now to consult the Book which had been presented me at the Temple. I had often searched through it, but now I began to let it search through me, and was astonished to dis- cover how it discovered me to myself It showed me not only which were wrong roads, but also why I was wont to tread them. That Book can only be read in its own light. And the wonderful thing about it is, that its letters arc as * I I I i I > .^i CHAPTER XVI I r. GUIDES. If: ii6 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. H If m I • r..>. visible in the dark as in the day, — it is a h'ght' to the feet and a lamp to the path. Coming to a place of rocks, where the way was weary, the mountains began to rise before me. This is characteristic of them; the nearer you approach the bigger they grow. They began to assume distinct and strange shapes to my eye, filling me with awe — such as only those who for the first time have seen mountains can understand. The nearer I came to them the more noble did they appear. My soul thrilled at the sight. I had seen pictures of mountains in the City of Progress, but no one can even understand a picture of a mountain who has not seen the reality. The more life-like the picture, the more it is necessary to know that which the painter conveys to the eye. Dark shadows moved across them ; the light of the sun illumined them. They were giants, but friends, as I gazed on them. From that hour, even the buildings and works of Progress were as nothing to me. S ,r DULY LICENSED. 117 But the way was roufrVi — tlic sun, too, was hot; so I sat down to rest. It was a stony place, with patches of sand and bush. The mountains grew continually more beautiful ; every fresh look revealed fresh wonders. There was a great mass or shoulder in front of me, which I pon- dered how I might best reach, and wondered whether from it the summit could be seen. Then I took out my Book again, and read the in- structions it contained. While thus delighting myself, three men, whom I had scarcely noticed, drew near. They were dressed alike, each wearing a loose gar- ment girded about him with a knotted rope, and havinix a crook-headed staff in his hand. " Peace to you, traveller," said they ; " we saw you a long way off, and being the licensed guides of these parts, have come to lead you whither you would go." Now my purse had been lost at the Out-of-the- way-Inn — and I knew that in Progress licences have to be paid for — so I naturally replied, that I was but a poor man on his way to the PLvcr- I I i I. if I • I I I! I 1: \ ii : l!l ■ ! i I 'I ' :.^ rr:r i ii8 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. « \ m\ IB ** rnj « hI ' 1^'' i lasting City, and must decline their services, which no doubt would be useful to the rich. " We serve for duty, not for gain, traveller," said they — adding that in them had been vested through their fathers before them, in one un- broken succession, the responsibility of caring for all, rich or poor, who would reach the Everlasting City. The ropes about their loins, they explained, were for attaching travellers to themselves at slippery places, and their staves for climbing purposes. " So on v.ith us, traveller, to a resting-place, before the sun goes down." They were well accustomed to their work; they read my thoughts even before I could speak again, for one said, " By the orders of the King, no man may set foot upon these mountans without us. Upon the mountains are dangers unseen at such a distance from them as that at which you now are. Those seemingly velvety sides are a mass of rents and gaps, crags and precipices, sinking ground and miry places, where the foolhardy perish. Mists, too, roll M MISERABLE COMFORTERS. 119 suddenly down from the higher crags, or rise from the hollows, and in a moment envelop in their gloomy folds such as climb there, and, should the travellers be without us, the clouds become their shrouds." As they thus spoke, a dark shadow and then a mist, thick and apparently imipenetrable, rolled dov/n the mountain side — the chill attending which blotted from my sight the former sunny beauty. " Yes, traveller," said another, " it is fatal to climb alone." " Friend," said the third, " we are well-known meii, — you may trust us. We are the three brothers Not, and are distinguished by our christian names as Handle Not, Touch Not, and Taste Not. Clouds not more dense than the one you now observe, have wrought death to many," " Well, you make me to doubt," I answered ; for the clouds, like sentient beings, began to rise from the hollows and slowly to creep down the heights before me. t I I I \ ■ f\\ 1 1 1 ' f" H -^ 120 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. 11 " Rightly spoken," Taste Not said. " Wise fears, serviceable doubts. Surrender your judg- ment to ours, and place }'ourself under our guidance, and then you will soon be in a posi- tion of safety." Just then a ray of light burst through the gathering darkness, causing me to exclaim : " Pray, guides, what are the glories of yonder heights ? Tell me not only of dangers, nor dishearten me with obstacles — brace me up with rewards ; for the Everlasting City I must reach." " Traveller," Touch Not said, " )our wisdom is first the way, next the end." " But my Book declares to me that first the end, next the way, is wisdom." They whispered together a little, when Handle Not broke forth, " Traveller, pray what book may that be of which }'ou speak?" "That," replied I, "which was given mc at the Temple, and which has inscribed upon its cover these golden words, ' III-: MAY RUX THAT READETH.'" IMPUDKNT ASSUMPTION. 121 "You must not trust to a book or a chart; you will surely read its instructions amiss. It is sheer madness to attempt crossinj^ a mountain range with a chart for a guide ! You recjuirc the voices of living men, whom you can under- stand ; not the letter of that which has no voice, and which is, perforce, to you unintelligible. You need men to help you whose profession it is to guide ; and such arc we." Here I turned away, for a space between them and mc seemed desirable ; but they followed, and, changing from argument to requirement, insisted that the Book or Chart should be sur- rendered to them ; and Handle Not, who was the stoutest of the three, stood in front of me, and peremptorily demanded that I should forthwith give it up to him. '' The lives of travellers are committed to us. Our life for yours. The evil influence caused by the retention of that piece of property will be your ruin." As I still refused to part with what I con- sidered my own possession, an altercation ensued, during which Taste Not, who was of a wiry t I I I I I. I ii ! ; , I i i I 122 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. h 11' build, came behind me, and, before I was aware, with his crook-headed staff caught my foot, as a shepherd does a stray sheep. This threw mc face forwards, and as I stumbled, in an instant ihc other two had me in their arms, and whipping their rope girdles from their loins, sought to tic my hands and feet. I now believed they were highwaymen, and fought for my life. But their tripping-up tricks mastered me. So they tied my hands and my feet, all the while imploring me not to misunder- stand their motives. But when I shouted for help, they proceeded to gag me — declaring that it was all for my good. Then they searched me, still assuring mc of their benevolent inten- tions. However, the only piece of my property they cared for was the Chart ; and indeed I had little else. This Touch Not withdrew from my posses- sion and flung aside. *' Now, traveller," said they, smiling, "you are in a fair way to be regarded as safe; that is, provided you remain as you are. Trust alone to CKRTAI N DESTRUCTION'. 123 US, and you shail doubtless sec the Everlasting City;" and then they removed the gag in order to hear my reply, but almost immediately re- placed it, declaring I was bent on suicide. " IJsten to love and authority, poor deluded youth, bent on self-destruction," said Touch Not. " We, the family of guides, have, after the labour of generations, constructed a pathway, step by step and bridge by bridge, up to the very gates of the Cit}'. Upon this pathway h.vc multitudes of travellers journeyed. The wise and the great have trodden it, the footprints of the noble arc upon it." The three proceeded, at considerable length and with great fervor, to recount the glories of the works of their fathers, till so excited did they grow, that they left me to engage in a kind of triumphal dance in honor of their pre- decessors. Their passes and leapings led them a little distance from the spot where I lay bound. I could not see all that they did, but once, by twisting my head, perceived them executin various steps over and around the Book. CT i: ! 1 ' : I ■m + »• li I 1 ' s ', ) ' If ' mm'' mmmm I i if 'I 'I ■P Hi \ 124 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. They spat upon it, kicked it, struck it with their crooked staves of authority, and finally heaped a pile of stones upon it. Then, tired with their vehemence, they sat upon the heap, and so soon as they had regained sufficient breath, joined in a song of triumi:)h. Perhaps it \\ as this song which drew a passer- by towards the spot. He saw me lying bound and gagged, then glanced at the three singers, and in less time than it takes to relate, guessed the whole scene. Before I'lCv wc.c aware, he was between me and them, uemanding, in the name of his master, their business. Me was a powerful, active man, and though they were three to one, the nov/ silent singers neither liked his question nor his look. " Pray, sir, and who may }'ou be ? " I heard them say. " We alone are responsible for the security of travellers ; we follow the occupation of our fathers/' thereupon drawing out their staves as evidences of their autliority. Upon which the stranger cried, " I am Break- bands," and lifting up a cudgel whereupon was A STAND-UP FIGHT. 125 engraven one word — Truth — added, "and this carries its own authority with it." As he was speaking, Taste Not, the guide who had tripped me up, crept behind him, to do the same to Break-bands. But he seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, for, Hfting up his foot, he crushed it down upon the head of the staff, spHntering i^ in two. With angry cries the otlier brothers imme- diately rushed upon him, and then began the manfullest fight I had ever witnessed. I only wish that I had had a fairer view of it, but my thongs would not allow this. It was cudgel against staves, truth against authority, one against three. As for Ikcak- bands, he seemed to grow more vigorous by tlie blows he received, and to care not one wliit for his wounds. Yet at times I thought he would have been beaten down and killed outright. It might have been so, had not Taste Not lost heart at the loss of the head of his staff. After a long conflict, Break-bands forced up their staves, and rushing upon them gripped W I t ■ it • i i i i 126 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. :l I Handle Not with his right hand and Touch Not with his left, and by sheer strength of loins forced them both down upon the ground. Taste Not had fled. Drawing them to the spot where I lay, Break-' bands, having ungagged my mouth and loosed me, bade me declare, in the presence of the two witnesses, how I came to be found lying helpless on my way to the Everlasting City. " You may know who are and who are not guides sent by the King," said Break-bands, " by their feet and by the shoes they wear. For beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those who publish glad tidings of peace, and their feet are shod w^Ith the preparation of the gospel of peace." Having said which, he bade the brothers take off their shoes, and though they cringed yet they obeyed ; so I savv' their crooked feet. " The way of peace have they not known," said Break-bands. Having soundly chastised them, Break-bands let them go, and turning to me, smilingly, said. NONE THE WORSE. 127 " You arc }-oung; the roughness with which you have been handled will do you good. A man who cannot endure hardness is not worth the name of a man. All along the way you will be met by wolves in sheep's clothing, and deceitful workers transformed like their master into angels of light, whose end shall be according to their works. Therefore, buy the truth and sell it not, and make what you have acquired part of \'Ourself Hold fast that which you have." As he spake thus, I told him that the guides had made away with my Book. He was very indignant, and exclaimed, "Why did you not say that before, for then those mock guides should have received their due ? " " My own deliverance so occupied me that I did not think of it at the time," I answered. " Ever the way, ever the v/ay, " said he, frowning; "self first. ]iut where did they hide it?" \Vc searched, and Jkeak-bands recovered the Book from its burying-place. He returned it to me, bidding me note that despite the spitting upo.i and kicking it had received, yet it was I \l ■;iN I 128 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. none the worse for its treatment. Not a leaf was sj)oiIcd, not a letter of the writing was marred. '' No," said my deliverer, '* not one jot or tittle harmed, and so long as you live this shall be a sign to you; for not all malice, not all ingenuity, can remove from the Book a dot from one i or a cross from one t^ Ui '1 I I r 1 I CIIArTER XIX. E X A M P L E S . . : ■' Hi I^or these things our fjfs arc dim. — Liimcntations v. 17. I NOW began my ascent of the mountains. Many arc the lovely flowers upon the slopes, and sweet are the scents wafted on the wind as the climb is made. Sheep feed in the green hol- lows; here and there a sparkling stream leaps down the hoary rocks. Each upward step opens entirely new scenes. Rising higher and higher, all things around take different shapes. Let all who would really know enjoyment toil up the rugged mountain side. Never from that day have even the flowers on the plains a[)peared as those upon the mountains : and the higher i. i^ r \ t '1 I 11 % n,o THE CITY OF PROGRESS. you ascend, the fairer arc their tints. The cloud- shadows, too, upon the heights arc in no sense \\hat tliey seem to be upon the level land. Another thing, which none can fail to notice, is the immensity which surrounds the traveller, w V 'w standing upon heights, and fills his very Soui. it is no wonder that mountaineers are a, credited n-ith fire and enthusiasm, which men of flat coLaiti.js are said not to possess. Presently I came to a flower-decked dell, where, welling from a rift in the rock, a crystal stream poured forth its soothing music. Much fruit was clustered here — some upon the branches of lofty trees, some upon the sprays of plants trailing upon the ground. I gathered to my appetite, and ate all that I wished ; but it was not lawful to carry away a store for the morrow, and anyone doing so would find the fruit rotten in his lips. As I went on, the very vastness of that which became increasingly great with each upward step, in some measure perplexed me; and I perceived, with pleasure, a shepherd seated SORE FEET. 131 upon a rock at some little distance. Now, shepherds are spoken of in the directions in the Book ; and having there read of them, it was as to a friend that I approached him. The old man was sitting- upon a stone, and holding one of his feet — as children nurse a sore finger. In answer to my inquiries, he said that he was not in a fit state to help me, because of his own suffering; then, pointing to another shcf-herd, he sighed, *' My brother, yonder — who should know better, for he is aware how acutely sensitive I am — did but just now tread violently upon my toes, and the agony is insupportable. It renders me unfit both for feeding the sheep and for helping you." There were other shepherds a little higher up, so, wishing the good man well, I joined them. One of their number lamented that the painful self-consciousness of his brother with the sore foot should so spoil his usefulness. They said wise things, and showed me the way ^^■hich I should go. A pleasant and profitable conversation was, F 2 f I I t :> n f\ f !.- Ml ' I *: I { ,nj Ji K \ i I ;2 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. I regret to say, broken off by one of the shepherds exclaiming that he was sure he smelt the savor of Filthy-lucre. This, it should be explained, is a kind of truffle, and is found underground. In the plains about the City of Progress, unclean creatures — such as dogs and swine — are trained to scent it out ; and there the dainty is highly prized. It was very surprising to hear a shepherd amongst such clean creatures as sheep thus exclaim. But he spoke not in vain ; for, himself leading the way, he was presently digging into the ground for the treasure — and there surely it was. A general scramble ensued, each shepherd taking, for the benefit of his children, as much as he could of the savory spoil. Presently I came to a flat and somewhat boggy spot, where I lighted upon a group of children flying kites. Now the children of the City of Progress are noted for their imaginative powers. Ragged little urchins may often be seen crowned with weeds, yet happily fancying themselves kings and queens; and hungry Ur IN THE AIR. ^33 beggar boys and girls will often gather up small heaps of mud, and, dotting these with stones, declare to one another that they arc enjoying a banquet ! They reason not, that perishing weeds are not immortal crowns, nor mud pies the endless feast at the King's table. Half their pleasure consists in supposing them- selves to be what they are not. These little kite-flyers, however, proved themselves to pos- sess powers of imagination as remarkable as the children of Progress. " My boy," said I to one of them, " how is it that you arc engaged upon this pastime here ? " But he merely turned his eyes towards his plaything, which drew my attention to the fact that each child had his eyes set upon his kite, or fixed where he believed his kite to be — for some of the kites were clean out of sight, and, save for the tugging at their strings, those who flew them could not tell where they were. Perceiving some words upon one of the kites which happened to be near the ground, ^ i i J' ' I' : J I 1 i ? t-t .1 134 THE CITY or rROGRESS. I looked steadfastly at it — for these demure but slovenly children considerably interested me — and I made out these words to be, " I am in heaven." Then I learned that all the kites had been bought at one shop, kept by a Mr. Trans- cendental, and that as the Faith Mountains are high, and climbing them is difficult, these children were playing at being where their kites were. They seemed to be quite satisfied, and apparently imagined that they had reached the heights of the mountains. So strangely does the imagination render children unpractical — keeping those of the City of Progress from realizing the fact that they grovel in the mud, and those of the Faith Moun- tains from perceiving that they are up in the air. Near the spot where I savv' the shepherds scuffling, ]\Ir. Lukewarm met me. He was coming down hill. I knew him well, having, when in the City of Progress, been to school with his sons, under old Mr. Assent-to-thc- Truth, of Creed College. DOWN HILL. 1 "^ ^ ^03 "What!" he cried; *'arc you going up this toil- some place? Once, my young friend, I was as eager for climbing mountains as }-ou may be now; but my }'oung blood has cooled. Youth is hot and excitable, age is calm and quiet ; spring-time is full of blossom, but the flowers die like the hopes of youth — not one in a thou- sand reaches perfection. Not all eggs are hatched ; and even of the chicks which pipe within the shell, many never break out. Such is my ex- perience; and so I am for spending the rest of my days in ease and quiet." " But, I\Ir. Lukewarm, what upon these moun- tains has so disappointed you?" I inquired; for the sweetness of the air and the glory of the scenery were as new life to me. " Ah ! young friend, I do not wish to disturb your inclinations; but it is the ceaseless up-hill work which has exhausted me. It is this in- cessant up, up, up, — I am worn out by it." So the old man went down the mountain side, and I afterwards learned that, growing colder as he descended and needing exercise, he began at S'i mmmm 136 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. a steep place to run, and having once started could not stop himself — but by his own imj s was driven down the slope swifter and swifter. Presently, losinj:^ his balance when ncaring a spot where he knew there was a precipice, the poor man threw himself down, and clutched at the grass and the ground to save himself: but, alas ! it was of no avail! — down, down he rolled, and was dashed to pieces upon the crags beneath! cd i :cr. pot Dor the as! md CHAPTER XX. THE MOUNTAINS. £_yc hath not seen, /lor ear hea> , ncitJter have cnteicd ttito the heart cf man, the things which God hath J>reparedfor thetn that love Hint. But God hath revealed thetn unto us hy His Spirit.— i Cor. ii. 9, 10. Mr. Lukewarm's sad end led me to study my Chart afresh, and again to address myself to the work before me. Such as have climbed moun- tains have often mistaken jutting rocks and rising knolls for the true summit, and have frequently fancied that they were just at the top, when in reality they were still far down the sides. Thus, too, is it upon the Faith Mountains ; but the higher the traveller rises the higher he longs to go. Step by step he surmounts the steep places, and overcoming difficulty after difficulty, acquires fresh energy for stouter exertions. M > ' 'ff j] k I -jc-r •38 THE CITV OF PROGRKSS. i f V I ■' k m 11- 1 « s , « ... ? ll. if f It is not easy to describe the peculiar emo- tions which possess all who force their way up- wards ; but it is be}'ond the power of words faithfully to express the thrilling delight which masters the soul of him who, for the first time in his life, gains the mountain crown and be- holds below his feet the scene that bursts upon his vision. But I must relate how the topmost ridge of the Faith Mountains may be gained. All along this ridge runs a steep, unbroken wall ; — these are the Rocks-of-gold, or, as some name them, the Rocks-of-righteousness. This wall is high, and has neither crack nor crevice by which human hand or foot can hold. Re- splendent like a mirror, these rocks shine terrible in the light. T long wandered at the bottom of this ridge, vainly searching for means to cross it. Many a weary hour did I spend at its foot. After a long time, at a certain place, I heard an echoing voice, and, listening intently, it seem»ed to resound from the rocks on every side. Presently I perceived a tree, and as I had seen none grow so high up on the mountain, ' )l LIFE FROM DEATH. 139 this tree attracted my earnest attention. It was rooted in the Rocks-of-gold. Again the echoing voice was heard. There was no living person visible, yet unmistakably from the precincts of that tree came the voice. It was a withered tree, which had apparently been long dead. Drawing nearer to it, the voice spake more and more clearly, till these words were distinctly audible : " He that eateth me, even he shall live by me." The voice was that of a man, and the words were sweetly spoken. Drawing nearer still, I stood beneath the branches of the tree: they stretched towards the four quarters cf the eartli — their shoots pointing up to heaven. Upon these lifeless branches was much fruit clustered, and as I looked upon the tree the same voice said again : " He that eateth me, even he shall live by me." So I stretched out my hand to this Tree-of- death, and plucked therefrom the TVuit-of-life, and ate. Then my eyes were opened in a mar- I I ^\ i 4! mmm , M ?*' if * J. 140 THE CITY OF TROGRESS. vcllous manner, and I experienced what I had only heard of before. Once more the voice amid the branches whispered : *' I lead in the way of righteousness ; in the way of righteousness is life, and in the pathway thereof is no death." The fruit of this tree is most bitter to the taste, but being eaten, it fills the soul with sweet- ness and with strength, and with joy unspeakable and full of glory. My eyes being thus opened, I saw the way to the Everlasting City through the Rocks-of-gold. This is the way whereof it is recorded : " There is a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not seen ; the lion's whelp hath not trodden it, nor the fierce lion passed by ft. He putteth forth his hand upon the rock." The way for the traveller is straight through the rocks, and the pathway leads through a cave where once One was buried. Upon the other side of this way are all things new. lie who enters upon it leaves the old behind. He is him- self what he sees before him — a new creation. FULL OF GLORV. 141 1. In a moment more I was upon the ledges of the mountains \\hich face towards the Ever- lasting Cit\-, and I beheld its glory. Now, not having looked at aught, save at my footing, for a long time, such was the overpowering glory of the scene that, like one fainting, I sank upon the ground. At first I was not sufficiently steady to look intently, and could only lift m\' head for a moment to gaze, and even then scarce dared believe the witness of m)' eyes. Yet it was so. The Everlastincf Citv and its girdling sea glowed and glittered before me. Upon the waters were the pleasant vessels — those silver skiffs wherein travellers are carried to their home. The light of the City was as that of the sun shining through transparent jewels; it combined a splendor more glorious than that of the noon- day, with a tenderness more refined than that of the softest beauty of the rainbow. But I saw nothing with absolute clearness, my c)'es not being accustomed to such brilliancy. Looking behind me — for I turned to look that 9V.i t I 'I' n 142 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. way — the City of Progress was also distinctly evident. It stood far away upon the plain. y\cross this ran the Wav-of-all-Flesh, in a straiijht line to the Gate Judgment. The broad river Vanit}', emptying its bubbling, sparkling waters in the Sea of Death, could also be plainly dis- cerned. The eye quickly becomes tutored ; it takes in new things far more readily than the ear. Looking steadfastly towards the Everlasting City, that which at first appeared so far off became gradually nearer — till the City seemed \erily to glow beneath my feet. The golden streets were clearly visible. Radiant companies walked there. Each person composing them shone as a star beautiful in itself; and all blended in one blaze of glory — forming an union of brightness like the thickly-studded way of light which arches the midnight skv. Then my eyes failed, for longing, — I forgot the darkness by reason of the light, the sorrow for the joy, the evil for the good. II CHAPTER XXI. THE VIEW FROM THE FAITH MOUx\TAINS ^1 I c Her country.— H^h. x'l. 16. SHnXE that first sight of the Everlasting- Cit}-, it has been my lot to behold the scene frequentl}-. Unlike all other scenes, it never palls upon the eye; while each fresh view of it renders the soul of him who gazes upon it more desirous to see it afresh. There is but one solitary thing in the City of Progress, the joy of the possession of which in any degree expresses the pleasure of beholding the Everlasting City— and that is the evergreen called Love. This little plant is prized alike by young and old, by poor and rich, for its lustrous leaf never fades. ■[: hi ■*!■ : i J il r il 144 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. One clear day, when feasting my soul upon the scene, the golden way of light, which leads across the sea from the foot of the mountains to the City gates, partook in my vision of a dis- tinct form ; so that instead of seeming, as it had done previously, a blaze and a glory too wonderful for words to describe or for eye steadfastly to behold, it fashioned itself into a rip2)ling pathway to the very gates of pearl. On that day, not only did I see the land, which is very far from the City of Progress, but my eyes beheld the King's son in his beauty. He sat upon the throne, arrayed as on that day when, despised and rejected in the City of Progress and cast out from it down the Way-of- al'-Flcsh, the King his father had said to him, " Sit thou on my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool." Lilies lightL led by the morning, jewels re- splendent in the sun, may be described; but none can adequately testify to the light itself. Con- cerning the King's son my lips are sealed. Around him were those who are robed in ' I REST. 145 in shining light — those who had announced his arrival when he entered the City of Progress; and nearer to him still the waiting company of those who had reached the Everlasting City by the Way-of-all-Flcsh. On other occasions I have seen, bright with glory, the landing-place whence travellers depart to cross the sea and to enter the City. The silver skiffs touch at this landing-place, to carry the travellers home. No sooner does a traveller step into a vessel, than the sails are spread by one of those who are robed in shining light, upon which it floats across the sea straight to the pearly gates. I have many times seen travellers take this voyage home. Once I saw one leave the landing-place. He bade his children farewell, and told them that he was weary and longed for rest. " This," said he, " all the wealth of the City of Progress can never buy ; neither is it there ever offered to the heavy laden. But whither I go, there is rest." Upon the shining shore there waited for him it; i 146 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. t I i I' 11 I I one who had gone before, and who had told him that she should see him again. I saw a beautiful boy borne in his father's arms to the Rocks-of-gold. The child tasted of the fruit of the Lifeless-tree, and lived never to die. As he trod his }-outhful way, a silvery glow marked his goings; and, though it is some time agone, the prints of his feet still give forth a gentle light, and many weep who look upon them. The child came to the landing-place, and upon and from his face the glory shone. Then he stepped into the silver skiff, v.hich the King's son had sent for him, and with a smile he looked towards the City, and then waved his hand and bade his friends adieu. It is at such seasons that the melodies which fill the Everlasting City are clearly heard; they come wafted across tlie sea, like the many-voiced chorus of a spring dawn when the woodland wakes to greet the coming day, or like the laughter of thronging children heard from afar, which lives in the memory as one continuous delight. The gladness wherewith this music fills EXrECTATIOXS REALIZED. 147 the soul is as tliat which possesses him who, waiting upon a wintery height for the coming spring, smells, upborne upon the breeze, the odours of budding valleys beneath him. So pure is this melody, that it counts no tones of sadness among its notes ; it fears no winter after spring, nor age following youth ; it is the melody of realized expectation, yet of expecta- tion more than realized. It was upon a day that, having accompanied a dear friend to the landing-place, and seen him take his seat within a silver skiff, I heard him sing a song of loves. Then, as his vessel spread her sail and glided gently homewards, his song came wafted to me across the shining water; it grew fainter to my ear as the vessel flew from sight, till reaching the gates of pearl my friend was lost to sight and his song to my ear. One of these songs, beginning with a sigh and ending with a triumph, was once thus recorded in a book : — ii t, rii » „ fi :5; 148 THE CITY OF PROGRESS. A SONG, One countenance transcendent Tlian noon-day sun more bright, lilest City, all resplendent, Fills all thy ways with light ! Did men but know Thy treasures. Thy joys, no tongue can tell, Amidst thy ceaseless pleasures Their souls would pant to dwell. Behold ! in virgin whiteness Upon her marriage morn, In gems of costly brightness The bride her lord adorn ! So City, jewel-gleaming. Bear thine own lover's name As from thee glory streaming Spreads far and wide his fame. Lo ! girt about thy treasures Thy mighty jasper wall ; The bulwark of thy pleasures His glor)^, keeping all. Security unbounded ! Thy sons have nought to fear. With majesty surrounded No foe dare venture near. How firm thy twelve foundations, Wi*h twelve great names engraved, From whoir. all tongues and nations Learned His, who dying saved. If. \ A SONG. Each garnished is with treasures Of varied jewels rare, ^Vhile all their equal measures A perfect work declare. Pearl gates ! all pure and holy, Through which no ill can glide, Nor pain, nor melancholy, Though ever open wide. Within, all fair and smiling. No stain thy gold defiles ; No Tempter there, beguiling, Corrupteth with his wiles. Pure holiness, those golden Translucent streets declare ; While garments white embolden The blameless walking there : Each washed his robe to whiteness In springs of crimson dye. And treads the paths of brightness In perfect liberty. Fresh limpid streams, e'er flowing, Rejoice the golden street, Where trees of life are growing With fruits and blossoms sweet. 'Tis from the Throne Eternal These gladd'ning waters well ; And these fair trees, e'er vernal, I'ree favour ever tell. 149 . * f ! I t ^ «!| = n if S: ^ fi ' i ' H^ 1 r li 1 I! 150 THE CITY OF rROGRESS. Dlcst City ! where can enter No curse ; where hght divine, As from a radiant centre, In ceaseless smiles doth shine. J''rom tliee, for ever flowing In crystal, spreading tide, Grace pours its gifts, bestowing On nations far and wide. Each citizen inslnxted IJoth good and evil knows. Yet loves the good, inducted Where evil never grows. Once Innocence was dearest, Now Love with Light is wed, And Holiness, the clearest, Crowns every priestly head, A graven jewel sightly Each forehead, see, adorn ! And ever glisten brightly As dew-drops on that morn When flowers, fields, and fountains Reflect the sun's glad rays, As, rising o'er the mountains, He sheds around his blaze. Here grief is ever banished, Hert t^ars are wiped away, Dark memories have vanished In endless, cloudless day. A SONG. ISI Here hearts faint not : and never Do liirelings sigh for rest ; Love's service works for ever — Eternal service blest. Pearl gales ! lo, now I enter, And ever cease from strife ! My thoughts now ever centre On Thee, my Lord of Life. Ah I Death ! 'Tis thou art dying ! Thou, Grave, hast lost thy prey ! My sorrow, sin, and sighing. Have fled with night away ! > ; ill I r ( mm 1, 1 III CIIArXER XXII. m h^ff ' . m m . . AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NP:W NAME. (?A^ things are /asscti away; all thin::;s arc bcconc «