Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1894-11-30

THE DEAD AND LIVING MEET.

THE DEAD AND LIVING MEET.
''BEHoLD the place where l have slept
for these two thousand years. said Ay-
esha, taking the lamp from Leos hand
and holding it above her head Its rays
fell upon little hollow in the floor, where
/ had seen the leaping flame, but the fire
was out now They fell upon the white
form stretched there beneath its wrappings
upon It's bed of stone, upon the fretted
carving of the tomb, and upon another
shelf OF stone opposite the one on which
the body lay. and separated from it by
the breadth of the cave
Here" went on Ayesha, laying her
hand upon the rock-"here have | slept
night after night for all these generations,
with but cloak to cover me. 1t did not
become me that should lie soft, when my
spouse yonder. and she pointed to the
rigid form, "lay stiff in death. Here
night by night haye slept in his cold
company, TILL thou seest, this thick slab,
like the stairs down which we passed, has
worn thin with the tossing Of my form
so faithful have we been to thee even in thy
space of sleep. Kallikrates And now,
my love, thou shalt see wonderful thing
living, thou shalt behold myself dead
for we'll have l tended thee during all
these years, Kallikrates Art thou pre-
pared?"
We made no answer, but gazed at each
other with frightened eyes. the whole
scene was so dreadful and so solemn.
Ayesha advanced, and laid her hand upon
the corner of the shroud. and once more
spoke.
"Be not affrighted," she said. Though
the thing seems wonderful to thee-sll we
who live have thus lived before; nor is the
very shape that holds us stranger to the
sun. Only we know it not, because mem
DRY writes no record and earth hath
gathered in the earth she lent us, for none
have saYed our glory from the grave. But
l, by my arts and by the arts of those
dead men of Kor. which | have learned,
have held thee back, oh, Kallikrates, from
the dust, that the waxy stamp of beauty
on thy face should ever rest before mine
eye. Twas mask that momory might
fill, serving TO fashion out thy presnce
from the past. and give it strength to
wander in the habitations of my thought,
clad in mummery of life that stayed my
appetite with visions of dead days.
Behold now, let the dead and living
r,,aot Acrocc tho Cplf Of fiua thav ctill
are one Time hath no power against
identity. though sleep, in mercy, hath
blotted out the tablets of our mind, and
With oblivion sealed the sorrows up that
else would hound us from life to life
stufTlng the brain with gathered misery
till it burst in the madness of uttermost de.
spar. Still are they one, for the wrap
pings of our sleep shall roll away as thun-
der clouds before the wind the frozen
voices of the past shall melt in music like
mountain SHOWS beneath the sun; and the
weeping and the laughter of the lost hours
shall be heard once more sweetly echoing
up the cliffs of immeasurable time.
cay the sleep shall roll away, and the
voices shall be heard, when down the com
pleted chain, whereof our each existence
is a link, the lightning of the spirit hath
passed TO work out the purpose of our be.
ing quickening and fusing those separated
days of life, and shaping them to a staff
whereon we may safely lean as we wend
our appointed fate.
bava 10 Il oil
when thou-living, but lately born-shal
look upon thine own departed self. who
breathed and died so long ago. do but
turn one page in thy book of being, and
show thee what is writ thereon.
"BehOldi'
With a sudden motion she drew the
shroud from the cold form, and let the
lamp light play upon it. l looked, and
then shrunk back terrified, since. say what
she might in explanation, the sight was an
uncanny one for her explanations were
beyond the grasp Of our finite minds, ard
when they were separated from the mists
of vague esoteric philosophy and brought
into conflict with the cold and horrifying
fact. did not do much to break its force.
For there. stretched on the stone bier be
fore US, robed in white and perfectly pre-
served, was what appeared to be the body
of Leo Vincey. l stared from Leo stand
ing there alive, to Leo lying there dead and
could see no difference. except, perhaps,
that the body on the bier looked older.
Feature for feature they were the same,
even down to the crop of little golden