FROM ANOTHER WORLD.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 431, 25 December 1889, Page 4

FROM ANOTHER WORLD.

By J. Mosro,

Author of • The Sphinx,' ' From the Firafc, 1 &c.

ijSf T is now two years since iMl^-*v wa^ P rac '''' s * n K mcdi* JjpffllffflHU^ Cumberland. I had ifjUBHfH come home tired and £ss£aQnmK^ wet one evemn s rom a long, wearisome rid e *~-^Jj\j^~' among the hills, and £?=£* after dinner had settled myself in an easy cnair before the fire in my coneulting-room, with a well-filled pipe and a pair of cozy slippers, to enjoy the bliss of rest and comfort after a hard day's work, in the agreeable hope of not being called out again that night. My house was solitary, and stood apart from 1 the village, beside the churchyard, which solemnly reminded me of past failures. The weather had been stormy, the mountain burns were swollen with rain, and the November gale had swept away the last hectic leaves. I remember that as it roared through the trees of the churchyard that night, and moaned about the eaves of my dwelling, it seemed to bo peopledurith the spirits of the dead, bewailing their outcast lot, or chiding me for having sent them to an early grave. Whether it was owing to the mournful dirge of the wind, or to my exhausted state, I began to review the experiences of the day and fell into a melancholy tiain of thought). In the early morning I had been sum- j moned by an honest miner, the father of a large family, who had tramped ten miles through the rain and darkness to fetch me. After paying his bill— my professional fees for ushering his last child into the world — he broached the subject of his errand in a bashful manner, ' It's about the mistress, sir,' said he, in a broad Scotch accent. • She's gaun to hae anither ane.' As this was the eleventh baby in as many years, I could not refrain from laughing, at which he blushed, and smiled with evident pleasure. The case was an anxious one at first, but ended well. During the day I had the satisfaction of presenting the happy miner with number eleven, and tickled his good wife by the suggestion that she would yet" achieve the baker's dozen. Their modest mansion was one of a row, built in the bottom of an old quarry. It was swarming with ' bairns' — little tow-headed, rosy-cheeked urchins, running out and in, playing at l houses ' in the corners of the quarry, and sprawling everywhere. At night they were all packed in one big trundle-bed, top and bottom, like herrings in a barrel. But they were all merry and bright and healthy, and their parents were as proud of them as if they had been gold and- gems. 'You should hear them singin', sir,' said the father, with a glorious twinkle in his eye. ' They sing like Unties. It's just a treat to hear them. 1 They were happy and contented, though living apparently in ignorance, and with little or no thought for the morrow. The father doomed to labour in the bowels of the earth all his life, denied even the light of day ; the mother burdened with the cares of a large family ; the children left to j their own devices. What was their secret ? Health and content, love and trust. With my experience of life and its weakness, I could not help fearing for their future. Leaving the old people aside, what would become of the children ? The eldest boy showed a talent for mechanics ; others of them had singularly sweet voices. Who would take them by the hand and bring them forward ? A loud knock at the outer door arrested these reflections, and presently my servant announced that a messenger on horse- back wanted to see me. I stepped to the door and found a young groom mounted on a stout cob, steaming with perspiration and bespattered with foam. ' Can you come at once, sir V said the man, in his Cumbrian tongue. 'Mr Weirlock, of the Blae Fell, has had a stroke, and we think he's dying.' ' Weirlock,' I replied, uncertain. 'Is that the gentleman who lives on the hill top — the astronomer V ' Yes, sir, the gastronomer. Him the folks call 'Lectric Billy.' I ordered my horse, and we were soon upon the high road. The night was fair, and the moon gleamed silvery and bright in the blue deep of the rain-washed heavens. The wind, however, was still fresh, and the rivulets roared like torrents under the rubble bridges, and down the rocky glens. The clumps of ash and plane trees sighed and shivered on the bleak hill sides. We had a long journey before us — mile after mile of mountain track, which we traversed without speaking — 1 sunk in my own thoughts. I had often heard of this Weirlock, the eccentricity of the neighbourhood, but had never seen him. They said he had been in India, and had made a large fortune, but whether in the Civil Service or in trade I did not know. He had come to these quiet dales several years ago, and bought a property gome ten or fifteen miles from anywhere. Here, on the summit of a high, bare fell, he had built a tower, and turned it into an astronomical observatory. In this he dwelt, like a hermit, with one or two necessary servants, and devoted himself to scientific studies. He took no interest in the country folk around him, or their concerns, and when occasionally seen by them, riding on his cob, he was generally so wrapped in thought as not even to notice the salutations which they offered him. Some said he was mad, others that he was the devil ; and all of them agreed that he was *no canny.' Children usually fled at his approach, shouting, c Daft Weirlock !' ' 'Lectric Billy !' and hid themselves in fear and trembling. The observatory on the hill was known through the country side as Weirlock'a Folly. Its round black dome could be seen for many miles, topping a wind-clipt girdle of trees. He was believed to watch the stars, but none knew why, unless for his own unhallowed amusement. Of late he had taken to the electric light, and a mysterious ray was often visible shooting far into the night sky. After travelling an hour, my companion turned up a steep track on a hillside, leading to a grove of leafless trees huddled up together like a herd of cattle in the wintry blast. As we traversed this belt of woodland the wind groaned among the branches with a sound like distant thunder, and occasionally a rotten stick came whirling to febe ground, or a ghostly gleam of moouSight struck athwart the trunks and jatarf/cd our horses. In front I could distinguish a massive tower of hewn stone, orith a flight glimmering in its upper win<£e«rc. 'It trae built square, the lower part occupied as a dwelling, with offices and garden attached, (fcb© upper capped with the round cupola of aa -observatory.

My guide knocked ab a low door, and presently it was opened by an elderly woman, shading a Bputbering candle with her hand. • It's you, Tom !' she said, with a look of relief. 'Thank the Lord. Will you come inside, air ? Tom will take care of the horses.' ' How is your patient now ?' I inquired, stepping within. ' Much the same, sir. He is still alive, but ' She shook her head and sighed. * Will you follow me, air 1 He is lying in the observatory, where he was taken ill.' Mounting a narrow staircase I reached the cupola, where beside the great telescope and other apparatus I found the patient lying on a couch, with his eyes closed, as if he wore asleep. An examination showed me that he had suftered a stroke of paralysis, which had affected his heart. He was a man about seventy, gaunt in figure and with strong, aquiline features, worn by study. His forehead wns remarkably high and full, especially over the eyes, which were deep aud sunken beneath a pair of shaggy eyebrows of iron-grey, tufted with black, and giving his face a curious resemblance to that of a horned owl. He opened his eyes in a dazed fashion while 1 administered a dose, but relapsed into a state of torpor, with stertorous breathing. Medical aid had been too long in coming, and 1 anticipated the worst. I inquired what he was doing when he was seized. • Every night, sir, for months past,' replied the housekeeper, in a whisper, ' he has been up here by himself, and no one was allowed to enter but me when I brought his meals. He scarcely ever looked at food, sir, and never seemed to relish it. You'd say he was moonstruck, he was so queer — bub such a clever man ! Of late he has been more absent, and that electric light there (she pointed to a piece of apparatus) has been going most nierhts. Why I cannot tell, sir. Ab six o'clock this evening I brought him a cup of tea. He was sitting in the chair there, at the desk, beside the telescope, with the roof wide open as you see it now, and the stars shining down upon him — I do not know how to shut it, or 1 never meddle with his books or instruments, beyond dusting them when he goes out. He was busy scribbling something in that writing book upon the desk, and never answered me when I set the tea things down. It's my way not to disturb him, so I left. At seven o'clock I heard my electric bell ring, and on coming up here to answer ifc I found him lying back in his arm-chair, and I thought he was a dead man ! The pen was pinched in his hand, and the book lying open before him. Perhaps you would like to look at it, sir ; it may tell you something more.'

I sent the good woman to her bed on the understanding that I would ring if I required her, and seated myself in the chair before the desk, which was illuminated by a powerful glow lamp. The eye-piece of the telescope projected over the desk, so that an observer in the chair could make a note of his observation. The instrument was a splendid specimen of the equatorial type, designed to dog a wandering 1 star or planet throughout the heavens and keep it constantly in view. It must have cost a kind's ransom. The aperture of the cupola revealed the long tube pointing at the stars which fretted the blue vault. I looked through it into an abyss of orbs, to me as nameless as the motes in a sunbeam, but in the middle of the field I saw the ruddy disc of a planet, round and plain, as though it were floating in the ether, and I gazed upon it with that rapt and curious awe which we experience on getting a closer view of some distant world. (J ratified with the sight, but no wiser than before, I opened the note-book lying on the desk, and, after turning over a variety of hasty jottings, dates and queries, I came upon the following strange narrative : — ' The experiments lam about to describe owe their existence to a newspaper. In December last, while reading a country journal, my eye fell on a short paragraph describing a new electric lamp of halt-a million candle power, which had been fitted up in one of our great lighthouses, and was capable of throwing a beam for thirty miles across tho sea. I was reminded of the heliograph, which I had seen in India flashing messages for eighty or a hundred miles through the clear atmosphere of the hills, and it occurred to me that with the intense light of the new lamp it might be possible to signal to another planet. Mars, the nearest, is some 35,000,000 miles away ; butlconsiderodthat a ray of light would" traverse the ethereal space unchanged, and only be enfeebled jn passing through the gaseous atmosphere of the two planets. As that of the earth is virtually 100 miles thick, and that of Mars, a smaller body, is probably less, it follows that my luminous signal needs only be strong enough to penetrate 200 miles of air. The moon has little or no atmosphere, and being but 240,000 miles distant, presents a larger face than Mars ; but, on the other [ hand, it is believed to be a dead world, without intelligent life. Mars, again, with its polar snows, its oceans and continents, its seasonable vegetation and varying atmosphere, resembles our own world. It seems to be a planet in its prime, perhaps aider than the earth, and surely tenanted by an intelligent order of beings^ similar, if nob superior to men, and capable of responding to my signal. I resolved, therefore, to begin with Mars. •My plan was to direct the light of a powerful electric lamp, night after night, whenever feasible, towards the planet Mars, and occult the beam at regular intervals in order tp fix the attention, of any astronomer there who odghit be watching the earth. Afc the Banxe time I was t to keep # sharp lookout for the answering signal, 1 By the following sprang my arrangements were complete. An. eleetrfe lamp, focussed in a silvered reflector having an equatorial movement which kept the beam

upon the planet, was installed in my observatory. A neighbouring waterfall, by means of a dynamo and accumulator, supplied the electricity required to feed it. By a special key, placed on my desk, 1 could break the current and put out the light, with one hand, while sitting in my chair, with my eye at the tele&cope, and my other hand free to write. •At length I was ready to make the first trial. The night was clear and fine, and Mars was nearing his "opposition," the point where he is nearest to the earth. My hand was on the signalling key, the telescope was pointed to the planet, and my eye bent on his floating disc. Never shall I forget my feelings at that moment — the expectancy of hope with which my heart beat. I knew it might take weeks and monbhg of vain repetition before my signal was seen and answered, and yet my heart thiilled with all the ardour of discovery. Columbus had found a new continent, but it seemed to me a greater discovery to prove the existence of intelligent creatures in another world, and learn that we were not alone in the universe. • I struck the key, and an intonso white beam of light, tinged with violet, shot from the lamp far into the night sky, broadening os it wont. Click, click, click went the key, and the lustrous ray vanished at each stroke. I paused a minute, and then repeated the signal time after time, hour after hour, during the night, but there was no response. •Next night I renewed tho experiment until the clouds drove me to sleep, but again without success. For full throe weeks I continued signalling, when the weather permitted, but still without reply, and though my taith in the result was shaken, I persevered. More current was added to the lamp, and the periods of eclipse and Hash were lengthened. 1 One evening, towards the closeof March, I was keeping watch as usual in a mechanical kind of way, with the full powors of my telescope in operation, and tho maximum strength of current on tho lamp. It occurred to me to stop signalling and carefully review the whole disc of Mars. I therefore concenti'ated my attention on the scrutiny, and as my eye roved slowly over the shadowy surface of the planet I seemed to see a phenomonen I had not observed before— a luminous point on one of the continents, very faint, but yet distinct. I watched it narrowly for some time, and seemed to see it come and go, though always in the same position. Could it be a response? My heart beatwildly at the thought and the perspiration broke out upon my brow. I leaned back in my chair to collect my scattered thoughts, and then looked again. Sure enough there was the same

bright speck, now seen, now lost. I timed its intervals and found them corrc&pond wibh those of my own signal. Was it a call? I grasped the key with trembling fingers and clicked it thrice. The speck on Mars went out three times. I signalled four times, and it was gone as olten. Five times, and the number was repeated. There could be no doubt about it. / was amicercd .' 1 was a supreme moment in a man's life. Such as comes but once or twice, as when his farst child is born, or a great war breaks out and he is brought face to face with death. The gates of the infinito and eternal seemed to have opened on my sight. ' I felt a glorious sense of tviumph, and my thoughts were winged with lightning. I had solved the question of the habitability of the planets, and spoken with the denizens of another world. Henceforth we knew that we had neighbours in the universe, and there was a strange comtort in the thought. • If, now, we could devise a code of signals mutually intelligible, the results would be incalculable. The two planets would be in regular communication, exchanging ideas and giving each other fche benefit of their experience. Manat leasfcmighfc profit by the older civilization of fche Martials, and receive an answer to the standing questions of his origin and destiny. Science, letters, and philosophy could be transmitted, and the morning newspapers of both worlds would be able to give the "Latest intelligence from Mars or Terra." 'Ib was an easy matter to occult the light in long and short flashes, and combine these elementary signals into words, according to fche Morce alphabet, as is done in the case ot the heliograph. But we had no common language, nor even a common knowledge of each other's environment, to enable us to interpret them. The difficulty was to attach a definite meaning to each signal, and it seemed insuperable. A plan bad, indeed, presented itself to me, but I rejected it as impracticable. ' While brooding over the problem, J kept in touch with my correspondents by passing fche signal fco whioh our intercourse was confined. One night, however, I observed something new. After our callsignal had been exchanged, I saw two additional spots on fche planet, forming with fche first an equilateral triangle. I acknowledged this figure by a signal, and the original spofc fchen twinkled a new signal, a shorfc flash followed by a long one. I acknowledged this, too, and almost immediately after, the fcriangle became a square, and the first epot twinkled another new signal, a long flash followed by a short one. Grasping fche idea, which was fche same as had occurred to myself, I recognised that the ne»v signals were intended to indicate, the one a triangle, the other a square. I acknowledged the last) as before, and a third system of lights, forming an irregular polygon, appeared on fche planet. I could make nothing of this until I plotted them pn paper, and running a line through thtp points found thafc ib traced the crude liUenoas of a human head. The corresponding signal, duly acknowledged, was a short, 9, Jpng, and tljen 3 3borfc fla^. ' ' ' ' ??his dispovery fjUed mo wifch. astpnish. r menfc, revealing as ifc did fche existence of a form of a man on the planet Mars. I argued,

too, from the area of the signal system, and its rapid manipulation, that the Martials wore in a very forward state of civilisation, with numerous cities forming a vast community, and provided with telegraphs and electric lights, or something equivalent. It would be tedious to purticularis© the progress by which a code of signals, ' with its graphic meaning, was thus transmitted to me. The connecting parts of speech were signalled in the same way as the substantives, by two or more figures placed in different relations to each other. For example, the conjunction 'and ' wus sent by showing tho figures of a man and a horse, with their respective signals, and a new one intermediate. The man turned to the hoise, or from it, gave me in the same way the signals ior * to ' and 'from.' Having acquired a simple code of signal in this way, and practisod it on clear nights, I was able to convorso at greater length with the Martials, and learn s>ome interesting facts about their condition. •I gathered, for instance, that Mar? is divided into solf-governing commonwealths united in one federation, with a common court, or pan-Martial council, to adjust matters affecting the harmony ot the whole. War is avoided by these means, and Mars, belying the name we have given it, is the most peaceful of planets. My correspondents expressed surprise on hearing that our earth was by no means so advanced, for they had considered it a glorious habitation ; but porhnpB the smaller size and matmcr aye of Mars, or some superiority in the Martials, may account for the difference. Their means of communication are excellent, including air and submarine vehicles, a state of things attributable in some degree to the fact that gravity is only half as great on Mars as on the earth. The sciences are cultivated there with great success, but mechanism has ceavsed to be unduly prized, as people have become familiar with it and found out its limitation. It is merely regarded as an extension of the physical capabilities of nature. Art is cherished most of all as ministering to the spirit of num. Mere utility is considered a relic of barbarism. He who constructs a inerety useful thing is regarded as a bungler, for the Martials hold that it is commendable to unite beauty with fitness. Their philosophy is to do the best with life and the materials at their disposition. They also say that the welfare of a pait affects the whole, and that the happiness or misery of a single person reacts on all, and raises or lowers the well-being of the whole race. Theiefore their aim is to diminish evil and increase good by mutual ' assistance. The good of all is believed to lie in contributing to the good of each, and hence they are careful to foster talent, giving each person a fair opportunity and a meet reward. They honour personal qualities alone, caring little for property, which they cay is no part of a man. Goodness and intellect, strength and beauty, are regarded as the admirable things. Happiness, the result of health in mind and body, is the object of theirlawa — the happiness, notof the majority, but of each and all. They regard each other as kinsmen and blood relations, by origin and intermarriage, but say that if it were not so, they would still act as they do from principle, being sent together on the same planet to make the beat of it. When a oriminal appears he is deprived of liberty, as one unfit to play his part in the commonwealth, but he is not therefore ill-treated, or destroyed. On the contrary he is well-cared for, as one who by the influence of loving-kindness will turn from the error of his ways. ' As it was getting late in the season, and the weather often unfavourable, I prepared a series of questions to which I desired an answer. The following was their reply :—: — •"A great Being has created us, from what essenco we know not, but after a mode which we in part discern. We cannot conceive His true nature, but we regard the Universe as His vestiture, the work of His will, enabling us to form an imperfect idea of His attributes and power. The Universe is evei lasting, yet ever-changing in time and space, and beneath its infinite variety there lies a unity and plan. Evil exists to ibe overcome, and as a spur to exertion. In ' this regard it is the proof of good, since mind and body must be exercised to keep in health, and produce happiness. Misfortunes are to be overcome by wisdom, and hate with love. What seems a particular evil is for the general good, and in the end all is for the be?t. Life is a priceless boon, every aspect of it is a miracle, every moment a psalm. Death is not an evil any more than birth ; we know that we must die in our turn, and that the end of our planet is approaching 1 , but we are not afraid, since we trust in the Great Being, our Creator, and, believing in His goodnuss, we worship Him and are happy. We believe that alter death " ' Thewriting in the astronomer's notebook, which had become more inegular towards the end, as if written under growing agitation, broke off suddenly ato this point, and it Hashed upon me that he had been penning these last lines when he had been stricken down. The nightly vigils bad. no doubt, shattered his aged frame, and the excitement of composition had overtaxed his enfeebled heart. That last important question had proved too much. Had he leceived the answer — and what was it? I turned to the telescope, and gazed into the dark blue field of vision, irradiate with stars, I saw the ruddy disc of Mars, and traced the shadowy curves of its continents, even to the white poles, but I could detect no lights. Perhaps they had cea&ed to signal i Yielding to my curie slfey I touched the key referred to in the manuscript ; there was a hissing, rattling sound in the reflector and a vivid beam of light shone through the dusty air of the apartments into the darkness without. Three times I broke the beam, and waited, breathless, for the return signal. There was no sound in tho darkened chamber, but the solemn ticking of the astronomical clock, the heavy, stertorous breathing of the sick man, and the moaning of the wind outaide. Suddenly I folb my arm clutched from behind, and starting round, discovered the old man standing by my side. 1 Whp are you?' he inquired, gruilly, still keeping a hold of my arm, and looking, in his long dressing-gown ■ like some medieval wizard in his gabardine, • Pardon me, sir,' I x-epliod, taken all aback, •I am your physician. You have been ill.' ' 111 !' repeated the old man, wondcringly, ' 111 ! Oh dear me. But lam better, now, thank Uod. Yes, lam bettor now.' 1 Sir,* fcaid I, ' you are far from well, and must lie down again. Allow me to assist you to your bed.' • No— no— no !' cried the astronomer, testily. ' I must have their answer ; I must finish this.' There was something wild and unearthly in the energy of his manner. • My dear air, believe me ' I began, but he sternly interrupted me. ' Silence, sir ; I will know. What have you seen ?' •Nothing,' I replied. • No lights ?' shrieked the old man, pushing me aside. •How long have I been ill ?' ' Three hours or more.' ,c, c Three hours !' he echoed, in a tqne of digamy. • Quick ! Helpme'intq the chair.' There woa a strange light in his eye. I protested against this fatal step, but he was obdurate, and fearing another stroke I as-

si3ted him into the chair. With a sigh of relief ho appliod his sunken eye to the telescope, and gazed for a time, in silence. I watched him attentively, prepared ■ for anything that mighthappen, and secretly touched the electric bell for help. After a little he reached out one trembling hand towards the key, and pressed it. The white blaze darted into the sky, revealing a myriad motes in its track, and vanished into the mist of < tho night air. Again it was broken threo times, and the old man peered through the telescope for full a minute. • Then a singular smile flitted across his haggard featuies, and a gleam ot triumph shone in his eager eye. After that he held hi 3 breath, like a man in pained suspense. Then a spasm convutacdhis whole frame, ahoilowgroan escaped his breast, and he fell back, motionless, into his chair. I felt his> heart and found that he was dead. At this moment the housekeeper entered with an anxious look, and when the first shock of the calamity was over, we laid the body on the couch. Curiosity led me to try the telescope again, but I saw nothing. Nor could I ever find any trace of the signal alphabet which the astronomer professed to use. Was he mad ? [The End.]